#I am NOT pressing the tags on tumblr that have the word suck in them.

[marcysdreamydays11]

Decided to search up Tamir Rice since its been years since I've heard about his case and he still hasn't got any justice WHAT THE FUCK IS AMERICA DOING???

So let me tell you a story if you do not know who tamir rice is.

An angel was born on June 24th of 2002.

November 22nd

Tamir rice was a 12 year old African American boy just playing with a toy gun in the park. 911 was called the caller was a bit vague. Cops pull up don't even talk to him just shoot him. His sister ran to his body at the scene and was tackled and handcuffed and put in the back of a police car.

That officer was Timothy Loehmann(and his partner Frank Garm back) the man responsible for killing a little boy who would've had a bright future that boy would've been 22 years old. He was athletic he couldve been playing sports. His favorite color was red. he loved chicken nuggets like a lot of kids. he loved video games he played with hot wheels and he biked around the neighborhood. A lot of kids like doing those things why was Tamir rice taken from us? He should've still been on his bike cruising through his neighborhood? He should've been snacking on chicken nuggets? shit maybe he would've liked anime??? He should be an adult by now just starting life.

The police officers had administrated no aid to that little boy.

So why hasn't he gotten justice yet you can obviously tell the cop is a cunt??

The court said Loehmann's response was valid.

Even though he's not fit to even be a officer he was put on paid administrative leave and he also failed to include details about his past employment which is really crucial and he probably wouldnt even have been allowed to be an officer and if he did maybe Tamir would've been playing basketball while snacking on chicken nuggets.

Also the other office Garmback who drove the car and Loehmann shot at Tamir. Apparently the city of cleveland paid a settlement of 100k to settle a lawsuit against him in which he put her in a chokehold and twisted her wrist and hit her repeatedly after she called to report a car blocking her drive way. This didn't even appear in Garmback's files.

So why is this all being covered up and why were these two freaks allowed to even be officers??

Also Loehmann lied saying he warned Tamir to show his hands several witnesses never heard a verbal warning. Again why isn't this cum dumpster sitting in jail.

Theres speculations the prosecutor sabotaged Tamir's case since he chose some pro-police people individuals to serve as the jury.

With all this information guess what, its been 10 years since that baby's life was cut short.

Updates on the case?

hahaha his case is closed.

Samaria Rice his mother is still grieving and is continuing to fight for the justice of her son and for police reform.

Anyway if you didn't know about Tamir Rice's story there you have it boom you learn something new on Tumblr everyday.

Now that you've learned his story...

Dont forget his name.

When you eat chicken nuggets think about him he wouldve loved to snack on them. When you play video games think of him he would've maybe loved that game. When you play sports he would've wanted to play that too. When you ride on your bike he would've loved to ride that too. When you see hot wheels at the store he would've probably thought those were cool.

Even though he lost his life decades ago think about him don't let his death be in vain

Think about him and the other people of color who have lost their lives due to toxic cops

Thank you for reading this lol I just really wanted to share this sorry if this was long

But I just want you guys to remember this is the boy that was taken from everyone

Do you think this boy could've been a threat?

This smile was taken away from his mother, from his sister, from everyone

But it's not forgotten.

I hope you guys learned something :)

Rest in peace Tamir Rice I hope you're eating chicken nuggets I wish I could've met you I was only 4 at the time you had lost your life

[chimcess]

Bittersweet || myg (1)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Other Tags: Grad Student!Yoongi, Undergrad!Reader, Grad Student!Hoseok, Uncle!Namjoon, Doctor!Namjoon, Grad Student!Jimin, Fuckboy!Jungkook, GradStudent!Jungkook, Boss!Seokjin, Yoongi POV Genre: College!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, kinda Student/Teacher but not really, Older!Yoongi, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut Word Count: 19.9k+ Summary: When a cynical graduate student meets an overly enthusiastic undergraduate, the air crackles with tension—though not all of it is good. Warnings: Mean!Yoongi, he's extremely rude, like extremely so, prank gone wrong, bitter grad student to the max, strong language, Jimin is a snitch, possible wrong science information (i'm sorry i'm not perfect), sexual tension, reader faints at the sight of blood, unfunny pranks, Yoongi is jaded, he's a softie once you get to know him, hospital visit, non-descriptive male masterbation, reader has a stutter when nervous, Yoongi just being in denial for almost 20k words, kissing at work, almost caught, Jealous!Yoongi, i'm sorry but this JK is kind of a slime ball, Reader knows what she's doing, they're adorable, lots of bickering, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Another old draft I found buried in my Google Docs! I didn't need to change too much, and it's very loosely edited, so please forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes. This was rather long (and I don't know why I never posted it), so it had to be split into two parts because of Tumblr's new rules. Thanks for reading!

Next

Subject: Undergrad Mentoring From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 6:18 AM   To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Yoongi,  

I’m forwarding an email from a brilliant undergraduate. Have you thought about mentoring a student? I really think you should.  

— Jin  

---

From: ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 2:08 AM   To: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Subject: Undergraduate Research  

Dear Professor Kim,  

My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m a junior in the School of Arts and Sciences, majoring in microbiology. I’m incredibly interested in undergraduate research, particularly in your fascinating work on Helicobacter pylori and its connection to stomach cancer.  

Although I don’t have prior research experience, I’m hardworking and responsible, and I would appreciate the chance to join your team. Please let me know if you have space available in your lab.  

Attached are my CV and transcript.  

Thank you!  

Y/N Y/L/N  

---

Dr. Seokjin Kim Member, Division of Basic Sciences   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

I stared at Jin's email, the words bouncing around in my head. No previous research experience? Oh great! Just fucking great!

As the clock hit noon, I trudged into the break room, where the fluorescent lights buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. It was my little escape, my sanctuary from the suffocating hallways of academia. Hoseok, the only graduate student I considered a friend, was already inhaling his lunch.

I plopped my Tupperware into the microwave, the day’s weight pressing down on me like a thick fog. “Jin wants me to take on an undergrad,” I grumbled, feeling the words stick in my throat.

“Seriously?” Hoseok asked, mouth half-full. He didn’t even bother to swallow before adding, “Have them do the dishes.”

“Oh man, this is going to suck,” I muttered, stirring my mac and cheese with the enthusiasm of a person headed to their execution. “I have to train her, and she has zero lab experience. I don’t have time for this crap.”

The microwave beeped, its harsh sound grating against my nerves. I pulled out my steaming food, the steam rising ominously. “I tried to get out of it, but Jin insisted it’s ‘all part of the training.’” I mimicked his voice, nasal and overdramatic. Hoseok chuckled, nearly choking on his food.

I dug into my lunch, my mind racing. “She’s probably some pre-med trying to pad her CV. Calling our research ‘fascinating’ like she even knows what we do here—just another cookie-cutter student firing off a hundred emails.” 

“Maybe she’s cute?” Hoseok waggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring him. My single status was a constant source of irritation for him. He meant well, but his attempts at matchmaking were like trying to fix a flat tire with a spoon.

“I already did my required TA-ing last year, and it nearly gave me an ulcer. I thought I was done with whiny undergrads! This really sucks!” The words burst out, hot and angry. The idea of babysitting a clueless student gnawed at me like a persistent itch.

I focused on my research, hoping it would be my ticket out of this academic purgatory. Mentoring an undergrad was the last thing I needed—a distraction threatening to derail my meticulously planned escape.

After lunch, I headed to the incubator to check on my cultures, the familiar hum a small comfort amidst the chaos. Then I settled at my desk, drafting a reluctant email to the undergrad, my words dripping with begrudging obligation.

From: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 1:05 PM   To: ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Come to the lab on Monday between 8 AM and 7 PM. Bring your schedule.  

Yoongi Min PhD Candidate   Kim Lab   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

This was going to suck.

“Hi, I’m looking for Yoongi Min?” A stranger’s voice cut through the quiet of the lab, and I felt my focus waver. I was knee-deep in DNA sequencing data, desperately searching for a start codon when the interruption struck like nails on a chalkboard.

“That’s him over there,” Jimin, my lab mate, replied. I didn’t need to look up; I knew he was pointing at me.

“CTT ATC GTG ACT…” I murmured; eyes glued to the screen. The code demanded my attention.

A shadow crept closer, invading my peripheral vision. I ignored it, hyper-fixated on the screen.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” the shadow solidified into the undergrad I’d been dreading. I continued to stare at the screen, unwilling to break my concentration.

“Did you bring your schedule?” My voice was clipped, an attempt to maintain my rhythm.

CGC CTC CGT ATG… There it was! I highlighted the start codon, feeling a small sense of victory amidst the irritation. Finally, I turned to face her. She held a crumpled piece of paper in trembling hands.

The crackling noise of the paper grated on my nerves, and I snatched it from her. A quick scan revealed she had a limited availability. Tuesdays and Thursdays it was.

“Do you want one or two credits?” I asked, filling out her form with practiced efficiency.

“Oh… um… t-two,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Oh great, a stammerer. I disliked her already. My frustration bubbled beneath the surface.

“That’s ten hours a week,” I said, scribbling on the form. “Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, maybe some Wednesday mornings.” I thrust the completed form back at her and turned back to my computer.

“See you tomorrow,” I dismissed her with a wave, eager to end the interaction. Her stammering was already wearing on my patience.

When I returned from lunch, she was perched at my bench. A laugh escaped me at the sight of her attire.

“What the hell is that?” I pointed at her lab coat, which was covered in hand-drawn bacteria.

She jumped, eyes wide. “My la-la-lab coat?” she stuttered.

Oh great, she’s a fucking idiot.

I took a deep breath, scanning her outfit for safety violations. At least she wore closed shoes and jeans, but her long hair hung loose.

“You should tie your hair up. You’ll be working near the flame.”

She pulled a hairband from her wrist and started tying her hair back. As I walked past, I noticed the back of her lab coat had “Bacteria Rule” scrawled in huge letters.

Bacteria Rule? Is she serious? I wanted to stab my eyes out with the pen in my hand. Who wastes time drawing on a lab coat? Nobody in their right mind, that’s for sure.

Something was off about her—I was certain of it. Concerned about her competence, I decided she couldn’t be trusted with any real work. Instead, I assigned her mundane chores, the kind even a high schooler could handle. It might not have been what Jin envisioned, but it was the only way.

God, I’m already dreading this. Can it be Friday already?

Hoseok and I lounged in the break room, our feet propped up on the coffee table, Tupperwares in our laps. The lack of a proper dining table didn’t bother us; it still beat eating at our desks.

“How’s it going with the undergrad?” Hoseok asked, mouth full.

“I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong with her,” I said, dead serious.

Hoseok laughed, even though I wasn’t joking.

“All she does is nod at what I say,” I elaborated. “Like one of those bobblehead dolls.” I stretched my neck and bobbed my head for effect. “Except she has bangs flopping all over her face when she nods frantically at everything I say.”

Hoseok snorted but kept eating.

“And she stutters! Well, when she speaks, that is. She doesn’t speak much. I kind of like that about her.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Sounds like you’re in love, bro.”

“Fuck you, Hoseok,” I shot back, uninterested. I already knew where this was heading.

“Is she cute?” Hoseok asked, glancing at me with a smirk.

“She’s a baby.”

“Is she a cute baby?”

“Hoseok, she’s… she’s a zygote.”

“Well, maybe with this zygote, you’ll learn how to be human again.” He turned his attention back to his food.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. You’re not exactly social, bro. All you do is lab stuff and occasionally hang out with me and Serena.”

“What are you talking about? I am social.” My tone came out whiny, betraying my disbelief.

“Oh, really?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, gesturing to my Tupperware. “So social that you prefer to eat alone in the lab over joining us in the break room?”

“Do you even hear yourself? You’re such a dork. I eat in here because the lab is a mess, not because I’m antisocial.” I shrugged, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping into my cheeks.

“Whatever you say, Yoongi,” he laughed, clearly unconvinced.  

I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about this right now. Instead, I grabbed my backpack, bracing myself for the next round of research duties.

After a few weeks of working together, I had to admit—albeit grudgingly—that the undergrad was following instructions better than I’d expected. If I could just ignore her ridiculous lab coat and the way those bangs flopped annoyingly over her forehead, she wouldn’t be half bad. The real annoyance, though, was her constant presence invading my space. But honestly, it could be worse; at least she wasn’t stammering nonstop. Most of the time, she barely spoke, and mercifully, she didn’t ask a ton of questions.

As I walked back from lunch with Hoseok, I was surprised to realize I didn’t dread the thought of the undergrad being in the lab when I arrived. Maybe having her shadow me wouldn’t be the end of the world after all.

Of course, the moment that thought crossed my mind, I jinxed myself. Stepping into the lab, I found her cleaning my bench, and a wave of irritation crashed over me. 

“What the heck are you doing?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

She flinched, turning slowly to face me, her gloved hands still gripping an ethanol squeeze bottle. “I-I just thought I’d clean up a bit,” she stammered.

“Did you touch my samples?” I shot back, a surge of panic coursing through me.

“Which samples?” 

“Those!” I pointed at the upside-down tubes that had been perfectly positioned when I left, now carelessly shoved to the side. 

“I-I just mov—”

“Did you touch my RNA samples?” Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air—an annoyingly stupid fish. “Do you know how labile RNA is?”

“L-la-labile?” 

“Yes! Unstable—easily degradable. The main point here: you don’t touch my RNA samples!” 

“I-I used gloves… I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tears shimmering in her eyes. 

If she started crying, I was really going to lose it. 

I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose to calm the storm brewing inside me. Slipping on my own gloves, I gently set my samples back in their rightful place, praying I hadn’t lost a week’s worth of work. 

I could hear her sniffling next to me, and I groaned out loud. “Why don’t you and your la-la-lab coat coat go find something useful to do?” 

I listened as she shuffled away, clearly eager to escape my sight. I should have known better than to think this arrangement would work out.

From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Monday, February 14, 2024, 6:27 AM To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu

Yoongi,  

Part of the undergrad training involves more than just doing chores. Cleaning dishes, stacking pipette tips, and capping tubes do not count as experiments.  

I expect your undergrad to have enough experimental data to give a presentation at the end of the semester.  

Jin  

What the hell? Did she tell him I’m only having her do chores? 

Shit, shit, shit, shit. 

Jin was right, though. All she’d done these past few weeks were chores. Aside from that little incident with my RNA samples, she hadn’t completely messed up yet. Maybe I should cut her some slack and give her a real project. She might learn something—or at the very least, realize how frustrating science could be and decide to give up on it sooner rather than later. 

Oh God, how was she going to give a presentation if she couldn’t even say one coherent sentence without stuttering? 

This would be an embarrassment, not just for her but for me too. If she messed up, she’d make me look bad. 

Decision made. I needed to lighten up a bit and actually try to teach her something.

On Thursday, the undergrad was busy with her chores when I approached her, project sheet in hand. 

She looked at it, her eyebrows raised. “What is this?” 

“Your project for the next few weeks.” 

Her face lit up with excitement. 

“You didn’t have to go crying to Jin. I was going to give you a project anyway.” 

Her smile faltered into a frown. “W-What are you talking about?” She gazed up at me, bewildered, but I waved her off, unwilling to explain further. 

“Enough chattering. Those tubes aren’t going to wash themselves.” 

Gotcha, undergrad. Your puppy dog eyes don’t work on me.

It was the first week of real work for the undergrad, and I felt a knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. My palms were clammy, and my heart raced uncomfortably. 

Am I excited about this? Nah… I’m probably just hungry.

“Do you know what PCR is?” 

She nodded eagerly, pulling out her notepad, ready to take notes. 

I explained how I wanted her to amplify two toxin genes from a set of H. pylori samples that had just arrived that morning from the hospital. Naturally, I only gave her a small subset of the total samples. It was a manageable number—enough for her to play around with, but not so many that I’d be ready to murder her if she messed up.

As usual, the undergrad took notes on everything I said, jotting down even where I pointed out the locations of various equipment. For all I knew, she was sketching a detailed map of the lab in that notepad of hers.

The undergrad sat at the bench, PCR tubes lined up in front of her, the protocol to her left, pipettes to her right, and a rack of reagents looming in the back. I watched her as she stared at everything, nervously picking at the edges of her gloves. 

She was going to drive me insane. 

“Do you know how to use the pipettes?” 

She looked up at me, shaking her head timidly. 

“Why didn’t you say so?” My voice came out louder than intended, and she flinched. 

We were never going to get anywhere like this. 

I took a deep breath and tried again, grabbing one of the micropipettes. “You set the volume here.” I pointed to the rings. “Clockwise to increase, counterclockwise to decrease.” 

I demonstrated, twisting the rings as I explained the display window and where to discard the disposable tips when she was done. 

After a few trials, the undergrad carefully pipetted into the PCR tubes, preparing the reaction with surprising precision. 

She was focused, making sure not to contaminate anything. It was clear she was paying close attention to every detail. 

Skilled hands, I noted, feeling a flicker of satisfaction. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.

I led the undergrad into the darkroom, where shadows clung to the walls like forgotten secrets, ready to ensnare us. The air was thick with a sharp, chemical tang, buzzing with anticipation as we approached the agarose gel. The PCR products shimmered faintly under the dim light, a hidden treasure waiting to be revealed. Surprisingly, a flicker of excitement sparked within me, a rare departure from my usual brooding.

“The ethidium bromide binds to the DNA,” I explained, my voice echoing softly in the sterile silence. “When we expose it to UV light, it fluoresces an orange color. You’ll see the PCR products light up on the gel.”

She walked beside me, clutching the gel like a sacred relic, her wide eyes absorbing every word. I could almost see the gears turning in her mind, likely wishing she had her notepad to document my brilliance, as if capturing my words would somehow validate her existence.

As we stepped into the darkroom, she hesitated, like a deer caught in headlights, before gingerly placing the gel inside the UV box. She moved carefully, avoiding the pitfalls of air bubbles that could ruin everything. Either she’d done this before, or she had the sense to read up on it. 

Good. I liked a prepared undergrad.

Once she’d set the gel, I instructed her to turn off the lights. The room plunged into darkness, and I leaned in, my heart racing a little faster. Peering into the UV box, I couldn’t help but grin. “Well, look at that. All your reactions worked.”

“Really?” Her voice trembled from the back, laced with a quiver of hope.

“Yeah,” I called back, though the shadows played tricks on me. “Come closer so you can see.”

I waited, but she lingered in the gloom, frozen as if afraid to approach the light. “Come here, I don’t bite,” I coaxed, trying to keep my tone lighthearted.

Finally, she moved, her profile illuminated under the eerie purple glow. Her eyes widened, and a smile broke across her face like dawn piercing through a dark night. I snorted softly, amused by how easily undergrads were impressed.

After she soaked in the spectacle, I showed her how to take a photo of her gel, and we returned to the lab. She began dutifully filling in her lab notebook, and a glimmer of pride swelled within me. That was until I checked her progress later. The notebook was pristine—a meticulous record of her every move since day one. Hope flickered in my chest, only to sputter out when I turned to the last page. There it was, taped prominently: a picture of the gel with “All worked!” scrawled underneath, accompanied by a crude smiley face.

A fucking smiley face.

This undergrad, I thought, definitely had a screw loose.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” 

“What’s wrong with it?” I glanced down at my sweater, a worn piece of fabric riddled with holes—just like my soul. It was what I had been wearing all day, and it sufficed. 

“It has holes in it.”

“And?” I shot back, genuinely baffled. It was just clothing—a shield against the chill of the world.

“Are you making a fashion statement? You do know grunge was over twenty years ago? I know you live in Seattle and all, but I’m not digging the Kurt Cobain look… at all.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. “I’m starting to regret bringing you to this.”

“Relax, it’s just beers with Hobi and Serena,” she said, rolling her eyes like I was some petulant child.

I raked a hand through my hair, but it sprang back defiantly, so I slapped on a beanie to cover the chaos.

“You know, Yoongi, it wouldn’t hurt to wash your hair once in a while. How are you going to meet any cute girls?”

Here we go again.

“Yoonji, would you get off my case? I don’t want to meet anybody.” 

Yoonji dropped in at least once a month, a whirlwind of concern and relentless nagging. She never believed me when I claimed to be fine over the phone. 

It was endearing, in a way, but mostly a burden I didn’t need. My family was my anchor, yet their relentless need to take care of me felt like shackles.

“Okay, okay... let’s go then.” 

“It’s just beers, for crying out loud.” 

“I’m telling you to relax.” 

In the car, I felt her eyes boring into me. “It’s just... I worry about you.” She brushed her hand along my arm, and I sighed.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, but I could see the disbelief flickering across her face. “Really. I’m just tired of school. I want to start real life already. I’ll be twenty-six this summer, and I’m still stuck in this academic limbo.”

“Hell, I’m twenty-seven!” Hoseok said when we arrived at the bar, lifting his pint in a mock salute. “And look at all the fuck I give!” He downed it with a flourish.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I shot back.

“Hey,” Serena interjected, her tone warning.

“It’s okay…” Hoseok waved dismissively. “He’s just got a bad case of graduate bitterness.”

Graduate bitterness... yes, that was exactly it. A malaise that settled in my bones like a persistent chill. I glanced around, my throat tightening as if the weight of my uncertainty was squeezing the life out of me.

I led the undergrad through the winding corridors of the building, our footsteps echoing like whispers in the shadows. She walked beside me in near silence, her gaze occasionally darting down to her notepad, scribbling furiously as if the ink might escape her. If only she spent as much time observing her surroundings as she did with her frantic notes, she wouldn’t need them to find her way back to the sequencing facility.

There was something peculiar about her. She avoided meeting my eyes, her demeanor skirting the edges of unease, a deep-seated shyness that pricked at my irritation. And Hoseok thinks I’m the antisocial one!

As we turned a corner, I pondered the unspoken rules of social behavior in the lab when we suddenly bumped into Jungkook Wand, another graduate student known for his knack for lurking around.

“Min,” he greeted, his gaze fixated on my undergrad, likely eyeing her in that ridiculous lab coat that looked like it had seen better days. Why she insisted on wearing that tattered garment was beyond me.

“We missed you at happy hour,” he added, his eyes still glued to her, ignoring me completely.

Every Friday, the department hosted a gathering that, while lame, at least offered beer. Last week, Yoonji was visiting, and I wouldn’t have dreamed of dragging her into that debacle.

“Yeah, my cousin was in town,” I managed, trying to shake off the feeling of being an afterthought.

Jungkook’s smile widened as he turned his attention to her. I should probably introduce them, but for the life of me, her name eluded me. Panic set in like a cold sweat.

“Hi,” Jungkook said, flashing a grin that felt a bit too eager.

Shit. What was her name again?

The girl glanced up at me, and a flash of annoyance crossed her features, as if she could read my mind. “I’m Y/N,” she said, her voice laced with indignation as she extended her hand. The scowl she shot me could peel paint off the walls.

Y/N. The name landed in my mind like a lead weight. How had I forgotten it?

Before I could muster an excuse, Jungkook was launching into conversation, his gaze lingering on her with a familiarity that irked me. I didn’t like Jungkook, nor the way he looked at my undergrad, so I steered her away from him, back toward the safety of the lab.

Now, what was her name again? Damn it.

The following week, I was knee-deep in sequence alignments at my cluttered desk when the fire alarm shrieked, slicing through the stillness like a knife. I turned to find my undergrad, her wide eyes betraying sheer panic. 

She thought it was real. In that moment, a mischievous idea sparked in my mind. 

“Run, Becca! Run!” I shouted, leaping from my chair.

“What?” 

The color drained from her face, and I couldn't help but laugh as confusion and fear played out across her features— priceless. I doubled over, laughter bubbling out like soda from a shaken can. 

The alarm blared on, drowning out her startled gasp as she clutched a rack of tubes, trembling. “It’s just a fire drill! Relax!” I finally managed to gasp.

She set the tubes down, took a deep breath, and shot me a glare, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “That was not funny,” she huffed, her voice laced with indignation. “And my name is Y/N!”

With that, she stormed off, leaving me with echoes of my laughter still ringing in my ears. 

Oh, being social was unexpectedly entertaining!

The fire alarms continued to test my patience, ringing again and again. Each time, I chuckled at the memory of her startled expression. Now, standing outside for what felt like the fifth time, I glanced sideways at Y/N, who was shifting her weight from foot to foot, hands shoved into her pockets. 

“Want to grab some coffee?” I asked, feeling an odd urge to make amends.

She blinked at me, surprise flickering across her face as if she couldn’t believe I was actually talking to her.

The cafeteria at the library was our destination, and we walked in silence, the clouds parting for a moment to let in the faintest hint of sunshine. 

As we stood in line, I noticed her tense shoulders. Suddenly, she muttered a string of curses under her breath. Before I could react, her arm was around mine, grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, bewildered.

She maintained her smile but released me, stepping in front. “Say something funny,” she ordered, her voice low and urgent.

“What?”

Then she erupted in laughter, leaving me standing there in utter confusion.

She pressed a hand against my chest, and I wasn’t sure whether to be amused or alarmed. Was this how lab partners acted in her world?

But just as quickly as the laughter came, it faded, and she stepped back, looking sheepish, as if the moment had been a strange dream.

I moved up in line to get my coffee. “Do you want anything?”

“No, thanks,” she replied, shaking her head. I decided to drop the subject entirely.

As we started heading back, she caught up to me, her expression suddenly earnest. “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “There’s this guy, Jonah. He won’t take a hint. I thought if he saw me with someone…”

I tuned out her words, her rhythm a blur as I realized just how bizarre everything was.

Could undergrads get any weirder?

Sitting alone on a bench Wednesday afternoon, I savored the solitude when Jungkook appeared, looming over me like a vulture. 

“Min,” he said, his tone dripping with false familiarity.

I glared at him, not in the mood for whatever nonsense he was about to spill. 

“Where’s that cute little thing you were with?” 

“Who?”

“You know, the one in the colorful lab coat.”

Colorful? I snorted, recalling the eyesore she wore.

“She’s not here,” I replied curtly.

“Got her number?”

“Why would I have her number? And why do you want it?”

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk spreading across his face. “You know… you and her…”

I cut him off, anger flaring in my chest. “Me and her what?”

“Is she up for grabs?”

I couldn’t believe he’d come to my lab just to ask about her.

“Jungkook, she’s an undergrad.”

He laughed, completely oblivious. “Dude, have you looked at her? She’s fine.”

“Yeah, and she’s crazy.”

“Even better!” His expression made my stomach churn.

“I don’t have her number, and if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you.”

With that, I shoved my earbuds in, blocking him out as he stormed off, his words echoing in my mind.

Fucking creep.

Even though it was Friday—one of those days Y/N usually avoided—the lab felt off-kilter, like an old, rickety house holding its breath. She hovered at my desk while I pulled up the sequencing results on my laptop. Last night, I’d sent her a simple email, expecting a casual response. But her reply had come back faster than a ghost in the night. She wanted to see the data today.

As we sat there, the silence between us thickened, almost palpable. Her face was a mask of concentration, but her expressions kept faltering, crumpling like old paper. Not that I cared too much; she had to learn that research was 90% disappointment wrapped in frustration.

“Why didn’t it work?” she asked, her voice tinged with sadness, as if she were mourning a lost hope.

“Maybe you made a mistake?” I suggested, trying to sound casual.

“I was very careful,” she shot back, defensive, her eyes narrowing like a predator ready to pounce.

How typical. Pre-med students always thought they were immune to failure, that the universe owed them success on a silver platter.

“It happens,” I shrugged, trying to dismiss the tension.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her brows knitting together.

“There's a reason it’s called research. If you only had to do it once, it would be called a search.”

“So, what do I do now?”

“You start over.”

“From the beginning?” Her voice trembled, disbelief flickering in her eyes.

“Yeah.”

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she gazed at her notebook, defeated. Her eyes flitted to the calendar on the wall, and her pencil scratched furiously on the pad. “Can I come tomorrow? I want to have cells growing by Monday.”

Her eagerness surprised me. I added “overachiever” to the growing list of quirks that made Y/N so peculiar.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“I know that.”

“Don’t you have a frat party to attend?” I quipped, but her glare silenced me, a reprimand that cut through the lab's sterile air. “Fine, come tomorrow,” I relented, knowing I’d be here anyway. Weekends in the lab were the best; no distractions, just the hum of machinery and the click of keys.

“Awesomesauce!” she chirped, her smile lighting up the dim room. I rolled my eyes, annoyed yet impressed by her determination. Maybe, just maybe, she had what it took for grad school after all.

Saturdays were sacred—my little slice of peace amid the storm of classes and lab reports. After a killer morning workout, I made my way back to the lab, my damp hair fluttering in the cool breeze. Just as I settled into my zone, my phone buzzed with a message that snapped me back to reality. 

“Mr. Graduate Student, I’m at the front of the building. Y/N.”

I chuckled, shaking my head at her cheesy attempt at humor. By the time I reached the entrance, I found her wrestling with her hair, tying it up into a high ponytail that looked like it could give anyone a headache just by looking at it. But when she caught sight of me, her face lit up with a grin that could brighten the cloudiest day.

“Very funny,” I replied dryly as I held the door open for her. “It’s Yoongi, remember?”

As we stepped inside, the silence stretched between us, thick and awkward. I considered tossing out a quip about her hairstyle or her lab coat, but then a mischievous prank began to brew in my mind—dark and delightful, like a noxious weed spreading through my thoughts.

“Start your experiment from scratch,” I said, forcing a serious tone. “Could be that my reagents were contaminated.”

Her eyes widened, and I could barely suppress a smirk. It was a complete lie, of course; the old autoclave in the corner was already wheezing like an ancient beast. But picturing her panic was too tempting. 

Settling at my bench, I could barely contain my excitement. But instead of the expected rush of alarm, there was a loud crash—glass shattering like a million tiny dreams—and then silence. 

What the hell was that?

I found her on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass that sparkled like lost hopes. The autoclave hissed and wheezed, steam curling around us like a ghost. I rushed to her side, trying to stem the leak with my hands. 

“What happened?” I asked, crouching beside her. She looked like a wilted flower, her head buried in her knees, eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you okay?” I tried again, dread pooling in my stomach as I saw her trembling hands. Her breath came in quick bursts, and my heart raced. 

She mumbled something I couldn’t catch, her palm pressed hard against her leg. “Let me see,” I urged, only to be hit with a wave of horror: a deep gash across her palm, crimson pooling onto the cold tiles.

Oh, no...

Panic surged as I scooped her up, her fragile body slumping against mine. “You’re okay,” I whispered, the words feeling hollow. “It’s okay.” 

I hurried her to the sink, the cool water a sharp contrast to the rising heat in the lab. She buried her face in my chest, her panic palpable against my shirt. 

“Is there still blood?” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Mostly gone. But we need to get to the ER,” I insisted, urgency tightening my tone.

She groaned, eyes still shut tight, her composure slipping away. 

“Please, open your eyes,” I pleaded, gently lifting her chin. I rubbed my thumb along her cheek, trying to anchor her to reality.

“Can you walk?” 

She nodded weakly, but when she tried to stand, her legs buckled. I swept her back up, panic clawing at my throat. 

What have I done? The air felt thick with dread, and I knew I had to get her out of there. 

I carried her to my car, the world outside fading into a blur, as if the universe was holding its breath. Carefully, I placed her in the passenger seat, her eyes still shut like she was blocking out the horrors around us. I fastened her seatbelt, feeling the weight of the moment. "Please say something," I urged, glancing at her, desperate for any sign of life.

"I hate blood," she mumbled, voice fragile.

Relief washed over me—she was talking. It struck me as strange that a pre-med student would detest blood. "Are you still dizzy?" 

She nodded, and my heart sank at her admission. The crease in her forehead deepened, and I wanted nothing more than to smooth it away.

"We’ll be at the hospital in ten minutes," I promised, focusing on the road ahead.

"Would you distract me, so I don’t think about the blood?" 

"I don’t know how," I admitted sheepishly.

"Say something funny." 

"Funny? Okay. It’s pretty funny that you want to go to med school and you faint at the sight of blood." 

"Who says I'm pre-med?" she shot back, and I blinked in surprise.

"You're not?" 

"No, and that really wasn’t funny. Talking about blood isn’t going to help me forget about it." 

Frustration clawed at me as I struggled for something to say. 

"What do you want me to say?" 

"Don’t you know any jokes?" There was an edge of frustration in her voice.

"No." 

"Everyone knows at least one joke, Yoongi." The way she said my name sent a jolt through me, tightening my stomach with something close to admiration.

Before I knew it, I blurted out the lamest joke I could remember from college. "Two hydrogen atoms walk into a bar," I began, watching her lips twitch upward. "One says, ‘I think I've lost an electron.’ The other asks, ‘Are you sure?’ The first replies, ‘Yes. I'm positive.’"

I cringed at how cheesy it was, but when her smile finally broke through, it felt like winning the lottery.

"That was lame," she said, but the glimmer of her smile gave me hope.

At a red light, I risked a glance at her. Her eyes were still closed, but the pale green tint to her skin had faded, replaced by a healthy glow. My heart swelled with relief.

The driver behind me honked impatiently, snapping me back to reality.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, noticing her fingers curling around her injured wrist. 

She nodded, a pout forming on her lips that made my heart ache. I nearly missed a stop sign, cursing under my breath.

"God, I’m such a jerk," I muttered, guilt gnawing at me. I had messed up, all in the name of a stupid joke. I racked my brain for something else to say but came up empty.

"I don’t know any more jokes, but I was good at geeky pickup lines back in college," I offered, desperate to lift her spirits. Her smile returned, lighting up the car.

"This better be good," she warned teasingly.

"If I were an enzyme, I’d be DNA helicase, so I could unzip your genes." 

"Oh my God," she snorted, and I laughed, relieved to see her react. "Did you use that on anybody?" 

"Maybe," I hinted, my chest tightening with excitement.

"Did it work?" 

"No," I admitted, but I was laughing now, and she was grinning, even with her eyes still closed. I was determined to keep her smiling. 

"Oh! Do you like The Police?" 

"The police?" She frowned, confusion crossing her features.

"Yeah…" 

"As in the profession?" 

"No, you dork. The band. Sting's band?" 

"Oh, yeah. I guess." She shrugged.

And against my better judgment, I cleared my throat and began singing. "Every bond you break… Every electron you take…"

Finally, her eyes fluttered open, surprise and delight dancing across her face. I couldn’t help but wiggle my eyebrows, and her smile broadened, banishing the shadows of panic. "Oh, can’t you see, you’re covalently bonded to me…" I sang, pouring my energy into the ridiculousness of it. Nothing felt more beautiful than the light in her eyes. 

How had I never noticed how amazing her smile was before?

We pulled into the University’s Medical Center in under ten minutes, just like I expected. I parked quickly and rushed around to help her out, but she stumbled out on her own, nearly losing her balance. I caught her just before she could face plant onto the pavement—or worse, land hard on her injured hand.

I could feel irritation bubbling up inside me. Did she really think I wouldn’t help? Sure, I was an idiot sometimes, but I still had a decent sense of gentlemanly instincts. 

“Can you walk?” I asked, keeping my hand around her elbow as we approached the entrance.

“I think so,” she replied softly, but I kept my grip steady, guiding her into the emergency room. 

Inside, a flicker of relief hit me—the place was nearly empty, and we should get seen fairly quickly. “Hello,” I said to the front desk lady, who was glued to her computer screen. She glanced up, her expression completely bored, and didn’t reply. Instant dislike. 

“She cut her hand, and it looks deep,” I said, gesturing toward Y/N beside me.

“Name?” The front desk lady’s question hung in the air like a sword about to drop, and suddenly, I froze.

Goddammit…

She didn’t mean my name. My stomach twisted as I desperately searched my memory. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten her name again.

It starts with a B, doesn’t it? I racked my brain, stalling as the front desk lady’s eyebrows shot up impatiently.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” came the shaky voice next to me, cutting through my fog of embarrassment.

God, I was such an idiot! I wanted to punch myself for being so careless.

I looked at her—Y/N—and even though she shook her head, a grin crept onto the corner of her mouth. Maybe, just maybe, I was forgiven. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N… I repeated silently, determined that this time I would remember.

I was convinced that the “doctor” tending to Y/N wasn’t a real doctor—not yet, anyway. He claimed the cut wasn’t deep and that it hadn’t damaged any tendons or nerves. He even said it was clean enough to glue shut, which apparently was a thing now. But my gut twisted with doubt; something about him set off alarms in my head.

Y/N had her eyes squeezed shut, clutching my hand like it was a lifeline while this wannabe physician—Doogie Howser, I mentally dubbed him—cleaned her wound. She perched on the examination table, her injured hand resting on a tray beside her, as I stood behind her, anxiety tightening my chest. In the chaos of her injury and my desperate attempts to care for her, her ponytail had loosened, hanging low at the nape of her neck. A sudden curiosity gripped me: What would her hair look like, cascading down like a waterfall?

“Y/N,” I whispered, leaning closer, needing to say her name again, to engrain it into my memory. “Breathe through your mouth. It’ll help.”

I lingered near her neck, unable to pull away, drawn by something I couldn’t quite name. I tried to find the words to describe her scent—something fresh, like the morning air spilling through an open window—but words failed me. I’d caught a hint of it earlier when I held her close at the sink, but now, in the confined space of the ER, it enveloped me, bringing back echoes of happier times.

Y/N smelled good—no, different. Refreshing, like the world waking up after a long sleep. And I was trapped in this moment, lost in the intoxicating blend of her presence and the sterile smell of antiseptic.

Every time she flinched, my instinct was to lash out at Doogie. I wanted to punch him for every wince that slipped from her lips, but I knew that wouldn’t help; it might just make things worse. I fought against the urge to ask the nurse for someone else to help her, terrified to leave her side. So I stayed, fingers entwined with hers, trying to offer some measure of comfort in the storm of uncertainty.

When Doogie finished and began to bandage her hand, I felt a wave of relief wash over me as she released her grip. I stepped back, taking a breath that felt heavy in my chest. Tension still coiled inside me; I hated that she’d gotten hurt, but a part of me marveled at her resilience. Despite her aversion to blood, she had held herself together with a strength I hadn’t given her credit for. There was more to Y/N than I realized, and that realization struck me hard.

“Listen, I’m really sorry,” I said once we were back in the car, the weight of guilt pressing down on me.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault I’m such a klutz.” She offered a radiant smile that twisted my insides with guilt all over again.

“So, what happened?” I asked tentatively, hoping against hope that this wasn’t really my fault.

“I was carrying a rack of test tubes when that thing started shooting vapor out. I freaked out. I thought it was going to explode! So I dropped the tubes and cut my hand trying to pick them up,” she admitted, embarrassment creeping into her voice as she stared down at her hands.

I should have known...

“Shit…” I thumped my head against the steering wheel, frustration bubbling up inside me.

“Hey, stop.” Her hand reached up to my shoulder, a gentle gesture that only deepened my self-loathing. “You couldn’t possibly have known that thing was going to start leaking, right?” I peeked at her, guilt etched on my face. She scrutinized me, her brow furrowing as realization dawned. “You did know, didn’t you?” Her hand dropped from my shoulder, and I felt the accusation hanging between us like a thick fog.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” I said earnestly, trying to convey the depth of my regret, how much I hated myself for her injury.

“You’re unbelievably cruel!” she shot back, eyebrows knitting together as she glared at me.

She was right, but I felt compelled to explain. “There wasn’t any risk of you getting hurt. The door just leaks a little vapor. I was going to close it after you got scared. It was a stupid joke, Y/N. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

“Well, excuse me for ruining your prank,” she snapped, rolling her eyes and turning away from me.

Sarcasm. Just lovely.

“I am truly sorry. Can you forgive me?” I asked, keeping my gaze on her even though she pointedly avoided me.

“Whatever, Yoongi.” She shrugged, irritation radiating from her as she stared out the window.

I wanted to tell her she was acting like a child, but I held my tongue, knowing that teasing her wouldn’t help my case. Instead, I focused on driving, ruminating on how to make this right again.

How the hell do I fix this?

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” I said to Y/N, trying to sound calm even though a knot twisted in my stomach as I parked in front of the research building.

“This is really not necessary, Yoongi. I’m fine,” she replied, brushing off my concern.

“Y/N, can you please, just for once, not contradict me?” I shot back, frustration bubbling under the surface.

“I never contradict you!” she protested, eyes wide in disbelief.

I fixed her with a glare until the tension between us shifted, and a small smile broke through her pout as I climbed out of the car. Maybe I was getting through to her, even just a little.

I dashed into the lab to grab her bag, but was abruptly halted when I spotted Jimin hunched over her bench. An urge to warn Y/N about the mess brewing in the autoclave room hit me hard. 

“Jimin?” I called, feeling an unusual tension in the air as he turned to me, eyes wide like I’d just spoken an alien dialect. We rarely exchanged more than necessary pleasantries. “There’s a big mess in the autoclave room. I’ll be right back to clean it up.”

“And you’re telling me this why?” he shot back, still looking as confused as a cat in a dog park.

“There’s a bunch of glass… I don’t know. My undergrad—she dropped the tubes. I—” The words tumbled out in a jumbled mess, and Jimin continued to stare at me like I’d just pulled a rabbit out of a hat. “Never mind,” I muttered, eager to escape the awkwardness.

“How’s that for a change? First, you have her doing your chores, and now you’re cleaning up after her,” he called after me.

I spun around to glare at him, irritation sparking. Sure, he was right, but I had bigger problems than petty lab gossip. I left him behind, shaking off the encounter.

When I climbed back into the car, Y/N was waiting for me, eyebrow raised, holding a CD case. My stomach dropped as I recognized it—my mom’s treasured Carpenters album.

“Really, Yoongi?” she asked, her smile widening. “The Carpenters? Okay, cool.” She casually tucked the CD case back into the glove box.

She was teasing me—smiling at me. That had to be a good sign, right? Maybe she had forgiven me after all.

I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on her face, how her smile lit up the whole car. It was stunning; how had I never noticed it before? A pang of regret hit me for all the moments I had let slip by.

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to reality.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just—uh, how’s your living situation?” I mumbled as I started the car and drove off, reminding myself to keep it together. She’s just an undergrad, I thought, shaking off the flutter in my stomach.

As I parked in front of her building, my chest tightened again. I was still angry—mostly at myself—for letting her get hurt. I wouldn’t feel at ease until she was safely tucked inside her apartment.

“Are you still dizzy?” I asked, unable to hide the concern in my voice.

“I think I’m all right now,” she replied, a small grin dancing on her lips.

Would it be weird if I walked her to her door? Did guys still do that? It had been ages since I’d been on a date. What was the protocol these days?

What the hell am I thinking? This isn’t a date.

But she didn’t look a hundred percent. Maybe carrying her bag would help. I climbed out of the car, and she shot me a bewildered look as I opened her door.

“I’ll feel better once I know you’re safe inside,” I insisted, my voice firm.

“I’m fine. You don’t hav—”

“Please, humor me,” I interrupted.

Y/N hesitated, then took my hand as she stumbled out of the car. I grabbed her backpack, and we walked inside together, a strange sense of connection warming the air between us.

At her door, she paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. When she turned to look at me, her brown eyes sparkled with something I couldn’t quite pin down.

“I’ll see you Tuesday then,” I said, handing her the bag.

“Yes. Tuesday.” Her gaze flickered up through her long lashes, and I was momentarily mesmerized. “Not Monday.” A playful grin crept across her face, and I felt my breath catch at the sight of her eyes crinkling with delight. “You know why not Monday?”

I was still entranced by her smile and completely missed the point she was trying to make. “Because rainy days and Mondays always get me down,” she said, and heat rushed to my cheeks.

Great… she’s making fun of me.

I took a deep breath and snorted, forcing myself to look away from her lips. “You’re such a dork, Y/N. How long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Too long.” Her giggle sent my heart racing, a rhythm I couldn't ignore.

“Good night, Y/N,” I replied, managing a smile despite my racing heart.

As I walked back to my car, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window and was horrified to find myself grinning like a fool. I frowned and climbed inside, but before I could drive away, I pulled my mom’s CD from the glove box, popped it in, and began to hum along.

Why do birds suddenly appear… every time… you are near?

I slammed on the brakes and hit the eject button.

Holy shit, what the hell is wrong with me?

Thankfully, when I returned to the lab, Jimin was gone. I started cleaning up the autoclave room, picking up shards of glass and mopping away the blood from the floor. As I worked, I spotted Y/N’s lab coat next to the sink, and my heart sank. It didn’t look festive anymore; it resembled a tattered Halloween costume.

Shit… She loved that ridiculous thing, and now it was ruined.

Before I knew it, I found myself washing the lab coat. I tried everything, even bleach. When I was done, the blood stains had vanished, but so had the whimsical bacteria drawings she’d painstakingly decorated it with.

Fuck my life...

When Hoseok called, I told him the chances of me making it to Serena’s party were slim. “I’m stuck in the lab and still have a long way to go,” I said, leaving out the details of my time spent doodling on a lab coat that now looked like a toddler’s art project. I also didn’t mention that I was starting Y/N’s experiment along with my own.

After inspecting the now-ruined lab coat, I realized I couldn’t give it back to her. Tossing it felt wrong, though—I’d just spent hours on the damn thing. So, I wrapped it in a plastic bag and tucked it under my desk, trying to forget it existed.

I left the lab after two in the morning, exhausted but restless. My mind buzzed with thoughts, not about experiments this time, but about Y/N—how she had gotten hurt because of me, and yet she hadn’t unleashed her fury. Somehow, she felt bigger than this. Bigger than me.

God, I’ve been such an asshole.

Images of her haunted me throughout the night. The way she smiled at my lame jokes, how she laughed at my terrible rendition of “Every Breath You Take.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sung to someone, not since my mom had forced me to sing The Carpenters with her. I turned over in bed, a smile creeping onto my face at the memory.

I didn’t have to be a jerk to Y/N anymore. I didn’t want to be. It wasn’t her fault grad school was a pain. If anything, having her around made it bearable. Maybe I could lighten up a bit… or maybe we could both learn something from this. No, I wanted to be nicer to her. I wanted to see her smile.

I want to make her smile?

First The Carpenters, now this?

When did I turn into such a marshmallow?

Monday night in the dingy gym felt like a scene straight out of a bad movie. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a harsh, sterile glow that did nothing to uplift the atmosphere. Hoseok and I were at the bench press, trading off sets like two battered soldiers in a war that would never be chronicled. I stood behind him, bracing for the weight, but my gaze was pulled away, caught in the orbit of something infinitely more captivating.

There she was—Y/N—effortlessly gliding on the treadmill like she was born to run. Her ponytail swung rhythmically with each stride, a pendulum marking the time as she jogged. My breath hitched, a tightening in my chest as I let my eyes wander down her back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine. And then—oh God—those shorts. Tiny and black, they hugged her body in a way that made my heart race uncontrollably.

The fabric didn’t just cling; it cradled her curves, indenting just enough in the middle to draw the eye downwards. I could almost feel the heat radiating off her skin, my mind spiraling into places I really didn’t want it to go.

“Dude! Hold the bar, would ya?” Hoseok’s voice jolted me from my daze. I blinked hard, shaking off the spell as I refocused on the weights pressing down on him.

“Right, sorry,” I mumbled, fumbling with the bar as I lifted it off him.

Hoseok wiped the sweat from his brow, the glistening drops catching the unforgiving light. I tried desperately to keep my thoughts in check, to suppress the smirk that threatened to creep onto my face, but my eyes betrayed me, fixating once more on Y/N’s ass as it bounced with every determined step on the treadmill.

“What is it?” Hoseok shot me a sideways glance, amusement dancing in his eyes. He knew. Damn him. “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

“Nothing,” I shot back, the word cracking like ice beneath my weight. I raked a hand through my hair, feeling more like a deer caught in headlights than a man. “That’s... um... that’s my undergrad.”

“Your undergrad?” He nearly shouted, and I winced at the volume.

“Shut up!” I hissed, heat creeping up my neck.

“She’s your undergrad?” He lowered his voice, his tone conspiratorial, as if we were discussing some top-secret mission.

“Yes,” I said, willing myself to tear my gaze from Y/N and muster some semblance of composure. “I don’t know why she’s here. This is the first time I’ve seen her in this gym.”

“Are you kidding?” Hoseok replied, incredulous. “She’s here all the time! You’ve just never noticed because you’re practically blind.”

My eyes darted back to her. She was still running, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing behind me. Could Hoseok really be right? Had I been so wrapped up in my own world that I hadn’t seen her before?

But then again, I didn’t recognize anyone else in this place. I came here every day—every damn day—and not one face looked familiar. Blind. I was completely blind.

And yet, here I was, rooted to the spot, entranced by the hypnotic sway of her hips, the way her legs flexed with each determined stride. It was as if she had cast a spell over me, one I didn’t want to break. But I had to; I was standing there like a moron, the weight of Hoseok’s gaze a smirk stretched across his face as he shifted to take his place on the bench.

“Yoongi!” he called, pulling me from my daydream. “It’s your turn.”

I shook my head as if waking up from a fog and stepped to the bench, but my mind remained tangled in thoughts of what I’d just seen. Y/N’s form, bouncing like it was teasing me, was too much. Too distracting. My body was responding in ways I hadn’t felt in years, and it took every ounce of willpower to focus on lifting weights instead of ogling her.

Then, as if she sensed my eyes on her, Y/N turned her head slightly, her gaze locking with mine. For a brief moment, the world melted away—the gym, the weight, the noise—all faded into the background as our eyes met. She faltered on the treadmill, her grip tightening on the bars like a lifeline before she recovered just in time.

What was I doing? I didn’t realize I was moving until I stood beside her, the tension thick enough to slice through the air.

“Hi,” I managed, the word slipping out like a confession.

“Hi?” Her smile lit up the stale space between us, brightening everything. “Who are you and what did you do to my bitter grad student?”

“What?” I stammered, disbelief knotting my stomach. “You’ve seen me here before?”

*Her eyes rolled in a way that was both exasperating and endearing. “Yes.”

“Well, I’m saying hi now. So, hi.”

“Hi…” she giggled, and I felt a low groan bubble up from my chest. What was happening? I hated how she made me feel, how she toppled everything I thought I had under control.

“How’s your hand?” I asked, grasping for something to anchor myself in this whirlwind of emotions.

“It’s fine,” she said, lifting her bandaged hand like it was a trophy. But I was lost, mesmerized by the way her lips moved, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, and how the sweat glistened on her skin.

I needed to leave before my body betrayed me further. “Um, I should go,” I interrupted, offering a shaky goodbye as I fled, a whirlwind of confusion and unwanted desire crashing over me.

What the hell was happening to me?

I ran home, my legs pumping, heart racing, trying to outrun the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind. It had been four years since Estelle, and the memory felt as distant as a long-forgotten dream. But Y/N was everywhere now, invading my thoughts—her freckles, her laugh, those bangs that had once annoyed me but now framed her face like a masterpiece.

I stormed through my apartment, shedding my sweat-soaked clothes, bewildered by this tempest of feelings. I couldn’t fathom why it had taken me so long to notice her, why she had pierced through the fog of my indifference and settled in my mind like an unwelcome guest.

In the shower, the warm water cascaded over me, soothing yet insufficient to wash away the turmoil. She was a kid, for Christ’s sake! Nineteen? Twenty? Too young, too innocent for someone like me. I banged my head against the tiled wall, cursing my own weakness.

And yet, even as I stood there, I could feel her presence lingering, like a ghost clinging to the edges of my consciousness—a haunting I couldn’t shake. Was I becoming one of those men who pursued young girls, crossing lines drawn in the sand, sliding down that slippery slope of desire? The universe had a wicked sense of humor.

God, I hoped I wouldn’t see her again at the gym. The very thought sent a chill down my spine—a mix of longing and guilt. But there I was, fantasizing about her hands instead of my own.

When did I become such a creep?

I’m in a foul mood. Not a glimmer of sunshine inside me, just the dense fog of irritability that seems to thicken the air around me. Maybe it’s the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders, or maybe it’s just Tuesday. Either way, I know I’ll probably regret having lunch with Hoseok today, but deep down, I’m still holding onto the hope that, by some miracle, he didn’t notice my bizarre behavior at the gym last night.

As I step into the lunchroom, Hoseok’s voice slices through the stillness. “What the heck happened to you yesterday?”

Well, so much for miracles.

“Nothing. Why?” I try to sound casual as I toss my food into the microwave, but my heart races in protest.

“Nothing? You nearly killed me, bolted off to talk to Y/N, and then stormed out. That seems normal to you?” He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin stretching across his face.

I shrug, feigning indifference, but my stomach twists.

“We were supposed to have drinks with Serena and her friend with the—” he gestures dramatically, “the big personality.”

“Listen, you and Serena need to stop setting me up with her friends.”

“Why? Did you take a vow of celibacy or something?”

“I’m just not in the mood for this today, Hoseok.” I plop down in a chair, my food forgotten.

“Is it because of Y/N?” he asks, cheeks bulging with half-chewed food.

“No,” I reply, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “And her name is Y/N, by the way.”

“OH. MY. GOSH. It is! You’re totally crushing on her!” Hoseok leaps from his chair, fork aimed at me like a weapon. His eyes widen as if he’s just uncovered a major conspiracy.

“What? NO!”

“Dude, you remembered her name!” He plops back down beside me, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Hoseok, what does that—”

“Oh man. This is too good... like, really, really good.” His grin is the kind that makes me want to punch him—or maybe just smack some sense into him.

“Hoseok, please. Just for one day…” I rub my forehead, trying to ease the confusion tightening my temples. The last thing I need is Hoseok’s theories swirling around my mind like a chaotic storm.

“Okay, okay…” He continues to chew, stealing glances at me every few seconds. “So, when’s Yoonji coming?” he asks, smirking, and I shoot him a glare that could curdle milk.

So what if I remembered her name? It hardly means anything. I’ve been working with her for weeks now. I’m not some clueless idiot; I can remember a name. I don’t care what Hoseok or Yoonji think. This is nothing. This doesn’t mean anything.

Except it does. Because Y/N, not “the girl” or “the undergrad,” is going to be in the lab when I return. And I’m not just aware of it—I’m looking forward to it. I want to see her smile, to hear her laugh.

I want to hear her giggle? Jesus, I need to get a grip on myself.

My bad mood evaporates the moment I spot Y/N at my bench, scribbling away in her notepad. Her hair cascades over her shoulder, wild and free. It should bother me—should send alarm bells ringing—but it doesn’t. It looks soft and inviting, and suddenly, all I want is to run my fingers through it.

Okay… I’ve really lost it now.

And just like that, my bad mood crashes back in.

“I can’t find my lab coat,” she says, tying her hair up with an intensity that almost makes me envious.

I feel a spark of irritation at the safety rules that dictate her hair must be tied back. I find myself imagining the kinds of experiments that would allow her to leave it down, just so I could watch it flow freely.

“Do you know where it could be?” she asks, glancing up at me.

I’ve completely lost track of her words, staring at her blankly.

“My lab coat?” she repeats, tilting her head.

Right… the lab coat.

“Let me get you a new one. That one was all covered in blood.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll wash it.”

“We have lab coats here, Y/N—new ones. I’ll get you one,” I say, moving past her, determination pushing me forward.

She stops me, grabbing my elbow. “Please, can I have my old one back?” Her eyes are wide and earnest, as if I hold the key to some sacred treasure.

A flush of embarrassment rises in me, and instead of confessing, I lie. “I threw it away.”

“What? Why?” Her gaze pierces through my flimsy excuse.

“It was covered in blood!” I bark, frustration bubbling over.

“I could have washed it!” she snaps, defiance igniting her eyes.

“I’m getting you a new one.”

“I don’t want a new one. Is this some cruel joke? Because if it is, I’d really, really like my lab coat back. It means a lot to me.” The shift in her expression from anger to sadness tugs at something deep within me. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, like I’ve just crushed her puppy.

Realization washes over me like a cold wave: I’m making her cry. With a deep sigh, I relent. “Okay, I didn’t get rid of it.”

“Oh thank God,” she breathes, closing her eyes in relief.

“But… I tried to wash it, and the bloodstains wouldn’t come out. I thought it would be a good idea to use bleach. And it was. I mean, it got rid of the bloodstains, but it also erased your drawings.”

“Oh no…” Her eyes fly open, panic etching her features.

“I’m sorry. Can I please get you a new one?” I plead, hoping to smooth over this disaster before it spirals further.

“I would really prefer to have my old one back,” she insists, crossing her arms defiantly, her gaze unwavering.

Jesus! Why does she have to be so difficult?

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” I groan. She’s staring at me like she’s just won the lottery, and I can’t bring myself to back down. “Fine…” I reach under my desk for the bag containing her lab coat and hand it over, feeling like I’m offering her a corpse.

I should have burned the damn thing.

Her gasp as she pulls the coat from the bag makes my stomach drop.

“Oh my gosh!” She turns it around, inspecting the shapes I drew in a moment of misguided creativity. When she spots my pathetic attempt at rewriting “Bacteria Rule” on the back, she giggles, and I swear my heart stumbles.

How do I keep up with her?

One minute, she’s annoyed; the next, she’s crying; now, she’s laughing. It’s like watching a storm change directions on a whim.

“You… did you do this?” She glances up at me, her eyelashes still damp, and my chest tightens painfully.

“Yeah, it looks even more ridiculous now. Didn’t think that was possible. Would you please let me get you a new one?”

“Oh no. I’m wearing this one,” she chirps, slipping her arms into the sleeves like she’s donning a crown.

“Please say you’re kidding.”

“What? It’s perfect!” she beams, buttoning the coat closed, that radiant smile piercing through my irritation.

Even as she parades around in that god-awful coat, all I can think about is pulling her close and kissing her senseless. It’s ridiculous and utterly baffling, but I can’t shake it.

I really must have lost it now.

The morning air felt heavy, thick with a strange malaise that weighed on me like a thick blanket. "So, what's on the agenda for today, Boss?" Y/N chirped, her pen clicking in a cheerful rhythm as she flipped open her notebook, the sound almost irritatingly upbeat.

"Don’t call me Boss," I grumbled, trying to shake off the oppressive darkness that seemed to cling to me like damp fog.

"Okay, Grumpy. What are we doing today?" Her smile was a bright spark against the backdrop of my brooding mood.

I could tell she was trying to be funny, deliberately poking at my irritation. With an exasperated huff, I shoved the list of activities at her. "Try not to mess up this time, Becca."

She took the list with a theatrical pout, and I stifled a real smile beneath my carefully crafted mask of indifference—a skill I'd perfected over the years. 

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the list. "I thought I was starting from scratch."

"You are," I replied, trying to keep my tone as casual as possible.

"But you did all these steps already." She pointed to the initial tasks, her voice laced with disbelief.

"I was bored Saturday," I said, as if boredom were an acceptable excuse for taking the initiative.

Her eyes darted between the list and mine, a spark of awe lighting up her face. "You started my experiment for me?"

The way she looked at me made my skin crawl—a mixture of discomfort and something warmer I didn’t want to acknowledge. I clamped down on my tongue, suppressing the urge to explain myself. 

"You better get cracking, Y/L/N. There's a seminar at four I want to attend."

Her gaze lingered on me a moment longer before she shook it off, returning to her notebook. A sense of relief washed over me. 

We worked in silence, but I could feel her stealing glances at me like a kid peeking into a haunted house. I knew—I just knew—I had crossed some invisible line. What I felt was tangled, a confusion I was desperate to untangle.

"What’s the seminar about?" she asked, her voice light with curiosity as we carried bottles of growth media to the incubators.

"I don’t know," I said, holding the door for her as we entered the incubator room.

"Then why are you going?" She squatted to stow the bottles inside, her dark hair falling around her face like a curtain.

"Free food." I shrugged, trying to sound indifferent.

"Seriously?" She looked up at me, disbelief written all over her features.

"Y/N… if you go to grad school, you’ll learn to appreciate the majesty of free food."

When she stood up, she released my hand with a huff, her pride surfacing. "When I go to grad school, I’ll enjoy the seminars, even without the free food."

"Right…" I turned away, shaking my head.

"So, can I come?" she asked shyly, her voice nearly drowned out by the hum of the incubators.

"You want to come to the seminar?" I shot her a skeptical glance.

"Hells to the yeah!" 

I suppressed a snort, the surprise of her enthusiasm bubbling up inside me. "Why?"

"I might learn something."

"Okay, you can come, but the la-la-lab coat stays." 

The thought of her actually being excited about attending a seminar with me sent a strange thrill through my chest, one that both excited and unnerved me.

As we made our way to the seminar, Y/N rattled on about her dreams for grad school, her voice bubbling over with energy. I struggled to interject, her words flowing like a vibrant stream, full of life.

When we reached the seminar room, she shook her head at my heaping plate of food. I settled into my seat, grateful for the chance to hide from the annoyed glances of the people behind us. Y/N plopped down beside me, her nervous energy radiating from her.

"That one with the sweater vest is Prof. Waylon," I said, nodding toward him. "He has a serious case of narcolepsy. Snores through the entire talk but wakes up right on cue to ask the hardest questions."

She giggled, and the sound pierced through the fog that had settled around me.

"And over there, with the red bow tie, is Dr. Amun-Kebi. Brilliant but completely bonkers—he discovered Quorum Sensing, yet can’t make eye contact because he’s too busy staring at the ceiling."

She snorted, laughter bubbling up as she covered her mouth, her joy infectious.

"Then there’s Jin," I continued, "who dresses like he’s going to a board meeting every day. Knows more adjectives than a thesaurus, but his favorite is definitely 'fascinating.'"

I mimicked Jin’s exaggerated tone, and Y/N laughed again, drawing some disapproving throat-clearing from the folks behind us.

"Main point is, Y/N," I said, "science makes you lose your mind. You’ve been warned."

"Oh, I think I can handle it," she replied, winking at me, and my heart twisted painfully in my chest.

As the speaker began, I couldn't help but chuckle when I noticed her furiously scribbling notes as if her life depended on it.

Once the seminar ended, we returned to the lab. Y/N still had work to catch up on after being away for an hour. I’d finished my tasks long ago, but I lingered, a shadow in the corner, unwilling to leave her alone in this sterile, fluorescent-lit space.

She closed her notebook with a satisfying smack and turned to me, her eyes bright. "This is so exciting! I can’t wait to see if it works this time."

"Yeah, you’ll get over it," I said, trying to keep my tone light.

"Have you always been such a grump? Or was there a time when you actually liked what you do?"

Her question hit me like a punch to the gut, catching me off guard. I could feel her gaze piercing through my defenses.

"I like what I do."

"Do you love it?"

Her question hung in the air like a dark cloud, and I found myself lost in a maze of memories, the joy of discovery overshadowed by the weight of expectations. Had there ever been a time when I shared her enthusiasm?

"I don’t really remember," I mumbled, avoiding the truth. "It’s getting late, Y/N. How are you getting home?"

"I’m walking."

"I’m walking too. Let’s go."

Did I used to love what I did? The memory felt elusive, slipping through my fingers like water.

As we walked, Y/N asked, "Why did you decide to go to grad school?"

"Why does anyone?" I shot back, a cryptic smirk teasing my lips.

"To make a difference? To revolutionize the field?"

"Very cute, Y/N."

"It’s not cute. It’s true."

"Is that why you want to go to grad school?"

"Yes. I’ve always wanted to help people. Since medical school is out of the question for me—"

"You’ll get over the smell of blood, Y/N."

"It’s not just that. I get too attached. I’d rather contribute silently from the lab." She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Plus, where would medicine be without science? They’d still be pouring hot oil into wounds!"

I chuckled, a genuine laugh bubbling up like warmth breaking through winter’s chill. "You’re funny." The words slipped out before I could think better of it, and before I could process my thoughts, my fingers brushed against her arm, lingering over the fabric of her hoodie.

She halted, her cheeks tinged pink, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

I froze, my hand dropping to my side, panic racing through me. That had to be inappropriate.

"I’ve been called worse," she joked, her smile radiating a warmth that sent shivers down my spine.

We walked on in silence until we reached her building.

"Do you live on campus too?" she asked, fishing for her keys from her bag.

"No. I live in Portage Bay."

"Oh… we passed that already."

"I know."

Suspicion flared in her gaze as she pieced things together, and I felt the weight of my own guilt creeping up on me. She would realize I was that gross old grad student trying to woo the sweet, naive undergrad—the very person I had mocked in others. The thought made my stomach churn.

"I know what you’re doing," she accused, crossing her arms defensively.

Here it comes…

"You feel guilty because I got hurt," she said, her voice steady. "You feel responsible. But you don’t have to do this."

Is that really what she thought?

"You think I’m walking you home out of guilt?" My voice was harsher than I intended, anger bubbling up inside me.

"I know you are."

"You don’t know anything," I spat, turning away, desperate to escape the rising tide of emotions threatening to drown me.

"Yoongi, wait!" she called after me, dread washing over me.

Keep walking… don’t look back.

I couldn’t believe she thought I was being nice out of guilt. I had done nothing but act like a jerk for too long, and now I was about to lose the only flicker of light stupid, lonely world.

God, she had no clue.

Wednesday morning felt heavy with an unsettling quiet when Y/N arrived at the lab a little earlier than usual. I was already there, lurking like a shadow in the corner, unable to shake off the ghosts of a sleepless night. I busied myself with the equipment, clinging to the hope that keeping my distance would somehow quell the anger simmering beneath my skin.

It was confusing, really. I was furious with her—not just because of the injury that haunted my thoughts like a ghost, but because she had twisted my kindness into something it wasn’t. Sure, I felt like a hollow shell, the guilt gnawing at my insides like a rat in a rotting wall, but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy walking her home. Yesterday’s seminar had been a strange kind of fun—the first I’d experienced in what felt like ages.

As I returned to the lab, pretending to check something in my desk drawer, I caught her gaze from across the bench. The way her eyes followed me stirred something deep inside, a mix of frustration and longing I couldn’t quite place. I tried to slip away, but as I turned to leave, her fingers brushed against my elbow.

“Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said, her voice soft and sincere, those puppy-dog eyes piercing through my defenses. Warmth rushed through me, a strange blend of emotions swirling inside. “It was really nice of you to walk with me. Thank you.”

With a timid smile, she released my arm, leaving me reeling, torn between the urge to pull her back and the need to retreat. Just then, I caught sight of Jimin, his piercing blue eyes wide with suspicion from the shadows of the lab. What the hell?

“You’re welcome,” I muttered dryly to Y/N, my voice almost a growl, before storming away, seeking refuge from the chaos in my head.

In the media preparation room, I paced like a caged animal, cracking my knuckles repeatedly to chase away the madness. This was absurd. I was losing it over a girl—an undergrad—who seemed blissfully unaware of the tempest she stirred within me. Deep breaths. Focus. But I knew this strange obsession wasn’t going anywhere.

When I returned to the lab, I found Jungkook leaning casually against my bench, chatting with Y/N. She wore that timid smile again, twisting something inside me. My hands curled into fists, rage and jealousy flaring up like a wildfire.

“I’ll see you Friday,” Jungkook said, flashing a grin as he sauntered past me. Did he just ask her out? The urge to grab him by the ponytail and shove him to the floor was overwhelming. “What did he want?” I spat, unable to contain the fury boiling within.

“Nothing,” she replied innocently, her attention flitting back to her notebook as if she hadn’t just tossed gasoline on my fire.

“Y/N,” I hissed, slicing through the air with my words, demanding her attention. “What did he want?”

“Nothing important,” she clarified, but her eyes locked onto mine, searching. My resolve wavered. What the hell was wrong with me? The desire to pummel Jungkook quickly transformed into an intense longing to press my lips against that bottom lip she kept biting. The confusion swirled around us, thick and suffocating, and I felt trapped.

Just then, Jimin reentered the lab, breaking the spell that had ensnared us. I stepped back, the tension snapping like a brittle twig, and Y/N sighed, disappointment heavy in the air.

“Are you done?” I asked, my voice cold, each word laced with the weight of my internal turmoil. “I need to use the bench.”

Hurt flickered in her eyes before she masked it, and guilt settled in my stomach like a stone. I tried to focus on my work, but her presence lingered, a distraction gnawing at my concentration until she finally left for the day. This is ridiculous! Why did she affect me so much? I couldn’t keep living like this.

Thursday afternoon arrived, and I maneuvered around Y/N like a ghost. I didn’t want to be a jerk, but the thought of her and Jungkook had me seething. It felt like every nerve in my body was on fire, irritation coiling tighter with every passing second. I tried to stick to succinct answers and instructions, but the tension thickened around us like fog.

As we received her sequencing results, I could no longer pretend she didn’t exist. She pulled a chair next to me at my desk, her presence suffocatingly close. My fingers twitched on the mouse, nerves sparking as I avoided glancing her way. She tapped her pen rhythmically; each tap a countdown to my sanity.

“Please, stop that,” I groaned, frustration spilling over.

She halted instantly, a sigh escaping her lips, and my heart sank. I hated feeling this way—trapped between annoyance and an attraction that sent shivers down my spine. How was that even possible?

Finally, the software loaded, and I opened her file. Y/N gasped, and I held my breath as she leaned closer, the tension between us palpable.

“Sample 1. Ran well. Sample 2. Ran well… ran well, ran well, ran well…” All fifty samples had run flawlessly. Impressive. I couldn’t recall a time when every single sequencing reaction had succeeded; there was always a failure or two. Y/N was undeniably skilled.

As I turned to her, a smile crept onto my lips despite myself. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and before I could process it, she squeaked, throwing her arms around my neck. Her warmth enveloped me, her hair brushing against my face, and the world narrowed to just her, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating. My body responded in ways I couldn’t understand.

I shot up from my chair, breaking the spell. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her cheeks a deep crimson, laughter spilling from her lips. “I’m just so happy! They all worked!”

My heart raced, shock coursing through me as I struggled to regain composure. The pull I felt toward her was almost unbearable, thrumming like an electric wire, demanding release.

“Good job,” I managed, forcing my voice to remain steady. But as she smiled at me, her joy tearing through my carefully constructed barriers, I knew I was in deep trouble. I wanted to hold her again, to kiss her until the world faded away. God, I needed help.

As I turned to her, a smile crept onto my lips despite myself. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and before I could process it, she squeaked, throwing her arms around my neck, her warmth enveloping me, her hair brushing against my face. The world narrowed to just her, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating, my body responding in ways I couldn’t understand. 

God, I needed help.

You know those days when nothing seems to go right? When you drag yourself out of bed, and it feels like the universe is playing tricks on you, pushing you back with every step forward? Yeah, today is one of those days. A downright miserable Friday, and I can’t help but feel that the promise of the weekend is just a hollow consolation.

This morning was a disaster. I tossed and turned all night, haunted by thoughts of Y/N. Her smile flickered in my mind like a candle caught in the wind—warm and inviting one moment, then snuffed out the next. The irony is, while I’m relieved I won’t have to face her today, the gnawing uncertainty of whether she’s out with Jungkook weighs heavily in my stomach. Anger simmers beneath my skin, bubbling over in waves I can’t seem to control.

As I step into the lunchroom, the emptiness greets me, broken only by the taunting hum of the microwave. I slam my fist against its cold metal side, frustrated when it refuses to cooperate. It beeps at me, a cruel mockery in the sterile silence. I slam the door shut again, and my temper flares.

“What did the microwave do to you?” A familiar voice cuts through my frustration. It’s Hoseok, ever the jester, his amusement practically radiating off him.

“It’s broken,” I mutter, fingers still mashing buttons like a madman.

“Step away from the microwave,” he orders, a playful yet firm tone in his voice. In two quick moves, he’s heating up my food. “What’s up your ass?”

“Nothing,” I groan, flopping down in a chair with a defeated sigh. “Just one of those days.”

“Why?” 

“It’s just one of those days…” I can’t muster the energy to say more.

“Like, ‘Everything’s messed up and everyone sucks’?” He turns his baseball cap backward, bobbing his head as if ready to launch into a nu-metal anthem.

“Great, Hoseok. Quote Limp Bizkit. That’s really going to help.” I cut him off before he can get into full swing.

“Dude, you’re in a mood. What happened?” His eyes reflect genuine concern as he rummages through the fridge.

“Nothing,” I insist, rising to retrieve my Tupperware.

“Bullshit. I’ve known you for four years. This isn’t just a failed PCR kind of mood.” He crosses his arms, blocking my path.

Part of me wants to spill my guts, but the words feel lodged in my throat. Still, they tumble out. “If I tell you, can you at least try to be mature about it?”

“Mature is my middle name,” he grins, but I can’t help but scowl.

“Fine. It’s Y/N.”

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

I bury my face in my hands, feeling the weight of his excitement pressing down on me. “What happened?” he whispers, leaning in, all ears.

“She’s... I don’t know.”

“Come on, man. I’m serious.”

“Yeah, she’s out with Jungkook.”

“Jungkook?” Hoseok’s voice rises as if he’s just spotted a raccoon in the hall.

“Jesus, Hoseok!” I hiss. “Keep it down!”

“Sorry.” His whisper is tinged with amusement. “Jungkook fucking Jeon?”

“Yes.” I take a deep breath, frustration bubbling over. “And she’s my undergrad.”

“Puh-lease. Who cares?” 

“I’m at least five years older than her,” I retort.

“The younger, the better.” He waggles his eyebrows, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“Disgusting.”

“Stop brooding, dude. Jeon’s got nothing on you. Go get your girl. She’s fine, and she was always checking you out at the gym—like I told you a thousand times.”

Y/N checking me out? No way. Hoseok’s just being delusional. I shake my head, dismissing his words. This fixation has to end. She’s just my undergrad. That’s all she’ll ever be—at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Happy Hour. The name is ironic, a pathetic excuse for mingling—if you can even call it that. It never lasts an hour, and “happy” is a stretch, but hey, there’s free beer, so here I am. Alone in the corner, I down red cups like they might wash away the grime of the day. By the time Hoseok and Serena finally stroll in, I’ve polished off four.

���You’re here before us. That’s weird,” Serena quips as they approach.

“Thanks for the observation, Captain Obvious.” 

“What’s his problem?” Serena glares at Hoseok, arms crossed.

“He’s in a mood,” Hoseok replies, handing me another red cup that I chug.

“Why?” Her tone is whiny, as if I owe her an explanation.

“Lady problems,” Hoseok shoots back before I can stop him.

“Yoongi has lady problems?” Serena sounds incredulous, as if she’s just discovered a new planet.

“I’m standing right here!” My voice is louder than I intended, laced with irritation.

“So you like a girl, Yoongi. Not the end of the world. I mean, this self-imposed celibacy was bound to end someday. I just wish I knew who she is.” She twists the conversation back to herself, as always.

“It’s not just a girl. It’s his undergrad,” Hoseok interjects, unable to contain his enthusiasm.

“You old perv!” Serena playfully smacks my chest, and I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks.

“I’m going to get fired,” I murmur, tipping my cup back for the last drops of liquid courage.

“No, you won’t, drama queen.” She dismisses me with a wave, annoyance radiating off her.

“It happens all the time! PIs hit on post-docs, post-docs on grad students, grads on undergrads. What world do you live in?”

“It’s like a jungle,” Hoseok chuckles.

“Shut up, Hoseok,” Serena snaps. “Good news is, now that there’s this girl, you can stop with the emo bitterness. It’s getting old.”

“Fuck you, Serena.”

“Hey, hey now,” Hoseok says, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go get another round.”

When we return, my anger toward Serena simmers just beneath the surface, but I’m too tipsy to think straight. “For your information, Serena, this girl has a name. Her name is Becca. No, wait... it’s Y/N! Dammit!” My palm meets my forehead in a facepalm of pure embarrassment.

“Wow. She must be something special, Yoongi. You don’t even know her name.”

“Baby, stop. He’s drunk, and he’s having a shitty day.”

“Why?” 

“Y/N is out with Jungkook,” Hoseok explains.

“Jeon?” Serena’s expression shifts to one of shock, and they dive into speculation, completely oblivious to my presence.

I shut them out, groaning into my cup as I gulp it down. It’s true. I know it. Jungkook is with Y/N tonight, probably taking her to dinner and drinks, sharing laughs while I’m stuck here. My mind spirals into a dark abyss—what if he kisses her? What if she invites him in? God, I’m sick just thinking about it.

Of all the undergrads in this department, Jungkook Jeon had to go after mine. I hope Y/N gets drunk and spills her drink all over him.

Worst. Hangover. Ever.

Well, maybe not the worst, but it’s definitely up there. My head pounds like a jackhammer, and my stomach feels like a chaotic whirlpool of regret as I stumble into the shower. The hot water cascades over me, a fleeting relief, but all I can think about is how tempting sleep sounds right now. But I have things to do in the lab. Don’t I always?

The apartment is a total disaster zone—a messy tribute to last night’s antics. Red cups are scattered across the coffee table like the remnants of a forgotten battle, and chip crumbs litter the floor like confetti from a party that had long overstayed its welcome. Hoseok and Serena wouldn’t leave me alone last night, terrified I’d do something reckless, so we ended up bringing Happy Hour back to my place. I was just the third wheel, watching them get lost in their own world of laughter and flirting. By the time I woke up on the couch, blanketed by a pile of crumpled chips, they were long gone.

I shuffle into the library, desperate for my usual caffeine fix on the way to the lab, but my stomach is rebelling. Still, I know I’ll need that coffee to survive the day.

Inside, the library feels like a claustrophobic hive of undergrads buzzing around like over-caffeinated bees. It’s overwhelming.

What a nightmare!

I hurry to the coffee line, pouring sugar into my mug like it’s a lifeline. Just as I catch my breath, I spot her—Y/N—sitting at a table surrounded by a fortress of books. Her hair falls like a curtain, hiding her face from view. I can’t help myself; I’m drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

“Hello, Y/N,” I say, sliding into the chair across from her.

She looks up, surprise flickering across her features, and for a moment, my heart races. 

“Oh, so I’m back to being Y/N?” There’s no hint of humor in her voice, only seriousness, and it feels like a punch to the gut.

What’s going on? Where’s the smile that usually lights up her face?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light as I settle in.

“What are you doing here?” she replies, her gaze cool and collected.

“Y/N, please go easy on me today. I’m not feeling great,” I admit, running a hand down my face, feeling every ache from the night before.

“Oh... what’s wrong?” Her stoic facade starts to crumble, replaced by genuine concern, and it warms me a bit.

“Too much beer,” I confess, and the word makes my stomach churn at the memory of my poor choices.

“I see... does that explain this?” She pulls out her phone and turns it toward me.

Grumpy: Becca, you’ve just revealed yourself to have absolutely no taste.

“Who the hell is Grumpy, and why does he call you Becca?” I blurt out, anger bubbling up before I can stop it.

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “You’re the only Grumpy I know.”

“Are you saying I sent you that text?” 

“Yes,” she says, sighing as her eyes drift away like leaves in the wind.

I pull my phone from my pocket, my heart sinking as I check my sent texts.

Well, great…

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes, wishing I could take back last night’s mistakes.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean either. No taste in what? Music? Food? Men?” 

“Men?” I let out a dry laugh. “Jungkook is not a man. He’s a tool.”

“So this is about Jungkook?” she says, gesturing to her phone.

“Yes.” My brain feels sluggish, like I’m moving through molasses.

“Why do you care?” 

“I’m uncomfortable with you dating my classmate,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to appear nonchalant.

“He’s not your classmate, and we’re not dating.”

“We both started our PhDs at the same time in the same program. That makes him my classmate… Wait… you’re not dating?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. We went out for coffee, talked, he asked me out again, and I kindly declined. I’m focused on my studies right now, Yoongi, and I really don’t have room for anything more.”

“Oh…” Relief floods through me, even as my hangover rages on. I might even be smiling.

“Yes, oh indeed. Which brings me back to why you’re sitting here distracting me from my study session.”

“What are you studying?” I ask softly, a smile creeping onto my face, hoping to steer the conversation away from Jungkook.

“I have an organic chemistry exam on Monday.”

“Oh, I see…” I hesitate, but the temptation of spending time with her outweighs my growing pile of work in the lab. “Well, it might just be your lucky day, Y/L/N, because I happen to be an expert in all things organic chemistry.”

“You are?” Her lips curl into a small grin, and I feel a surge of relief wash over me. She’s back.

“I am…” I smile at her. “So, do you want some help?”

“I could use some help.”

Help… yeah… that’s what I’m here for… help.

For the next two hours, I guide Y/N through her organic reaction problem sets, all while ignoring my cooling coffee. She’s a quick study, soaking up the information, and I’m confident she’ll ace her test on Monday.

I keep my hands clasped between my knees—except when I need to draw reactions for her—wanting to hide how my fingers twitch every time she brushes her hair behind her ear.

Y/N is focused on her notebook, but the third time I yawn, she looks up at me.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Tell me about it… On average, I get about four hours a night.”

“Four hours? If I don’t get at least six, I get grumpy.”

“Grumpier than this?” she says, waving a hand at me, a smile teasing at her lips.

“This,” I gesture to my chest, “this is the five-hours-of-sleep me.” I stretch, feeling my muscles pull, and I notice her eyes trace down my torso before I quickly pull my shirt down.

Was Y/N checking me out?

“Anyway…” I scramble for a distraction. “It’s healthy to sleep eight hours. I’m all about being healthy.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re an old man.”

“Hey… I’m only twenty-five!”

She laughs, and before I can ask how old she is, her gaze shifts behind me, and I can sense her tension.

“Shit…” she whispers.

“What?”

“Remember that guy I told you about, Jonah Rodgers, the stalker?” Her voice drops to a near whisper, laced with panic.

I wrack my brain, trying to recall. Y/N had a stalker? She looks at me, and it’s clear she knows I’m lost.

“Just play along, please,” she whispers, scooting her chair closer to me. Her hand brushes my knee, and I’m startled by the tentative touch.

A vague memory flickers in my mind—her acting strange around me one day, but it’s obscured by the haze of regret and longing.

Y/N’s gaze is intense, making it hard to focus on anything else. She smiles shyly, then looks down before peeking at me through her thick lashes.

God, what is she doing to me?

I know she’s faking it, pretending for someone else—but I can’t help how my body reacts, how hyper-aware I am of her presence. My hand moves to her cheek, my thumb tracing her soft skin. She blushes, biting her lip, and it sends a jolt through me, a deep ache to pull her closer—bring her lips to mine.

Her hand slides from my knee, brushing my thigh, and I can feel a warmth stirring inside me.

This isn’t real… it can’t be.

She’s still staring at me, and I’m lost in her gaze, wondering what she’s thinking, if she feels it too.

But then, all too soon, her attention darts behind me again.

“He’s gone,” she breathes, relief washing over her. Her hand rubs my thigh one last time before she withdraws. “Thank you.”

I know I should let go, but I can’t. My hand remains on her face, my thumb tracing her cheek while my fingers tangle in the nape of her neck. Her expression shifts, confusion knitting her brow. She reaches for my hand, her fingers enveloping my wrist—her thumb brushing the top of my hand, once, twice—and then she smiles.

But she’s not looking at me seductively anymore. She’s looking at me like she doesn’t understand why I haven’t let go. And honestly? Neither do I.

I drop my hand from her face and stand abruptly.

“I better get to the lab,” I say, running a hand through my disheveled hair. “Good luck on your test.” Her eyes linger on me, confusion clouding her expression as I turn to leave.

I guess the show is over…

I spent the rest of the weekend in the lab, mostly because I had nothing better to do. It felt easier to throw myself into my work than to face the nagging thoughts of Y/N swirling around in my head. Pining after her felt wrong—she was just a kid, my intern, and whatever was brewing inside me needed to stop. I had to keep my distance.

When Y/N walked in on Tuesday, she looked a bit worn out. I wanted to ask her about the test, but I bit my tongue, forcing myself to act indifferent.

As the day wound down, she asked for my help, and I followed her into the dark room. She needed to cut different bands from an agarose gel to purify the DNA. Even though she knew how to use the UV light box, I guided her through the excising process.

Once inside the dimly lit room, Y/N flipped on the UV box and switched off the lights. I stood behind her, watching as her shaky hand hovered nervously over the gel, clutching the blade. 

"I think it’s safe to say that not going to medical school was the right choice for you," I teased, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension. "With those shaky hands, I wouldn't want you holding a scalpel near me."

"I had too much coffee today," she shot back, her tone sharp but playful.

"Right," I snorted, a grin breaking free.

"Shut up. You're making me nervous." I could almost hear her smile through her words.

"Here," I said, inching closer. I covered her hand with mine, steadying her fingers over the blade. "Relax," I suggested, hoping it would ease both our nerves.

Her proximity felt electric, as if the air around us vibrated with tension. The scent of her hair—fresh and unplaceable—danced under my nose, making my heart race. Y/N's hand trembled beneath mine as she turned to glance up at me. In the faint blue glow of the UV light, her features looked even more striking. 

"This is making it worse," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

I felt her warm breath against my neck, and everything inside me screamed that we were too close. I should step back. I needed to step back. But God, I wanted to kiss her. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

Her bewildered expression shifted as her eyes drifted from my gaze to my lips. My heart thundered in my chest as I watched her tongue trace the edge of her bottom lip before she began to nibble on it nervously.

Then, without thinking, I closed the distance and pressed my lips against hers.

I inhaled deeply through my nose, intoxicated by her sweet scent as my mouth enveloped her bottom lip. Y/N whimpered softly against me, turning her body to face mine. My hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

What was I doing?

I felt lost, unsure of how to proceed or how to stop. Reluctantly, I released her neck and gripped the bench for support, struggling against the rising tide of desire. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around her and pull her onto the counter, to lose myself in her warmth.

No, stop! This is wrong!

I broke the kiss, panting heavily. "Y/N…" I gasped. "Shit, I'm so sorry." I stepped back, needing space. She was breathing hard too. "I-I didn’t mean to do that. I shouldn’t have… Shit." My hands raked through my hair, searching for words that eluded me.

Then, with a single determined step, Y/N closed the distance. She grabbed my t-shirt and pulled me down to her level. Her lips collided with mine once more, and I felt her inhale sharply.

I was too tall, or she was too short; either way, I hunched over her as her legs wrapped around my hips, lifting her onto the countertop beside the UV box.

Her hands tangled in my hair, tugging in a way that made me groan into her mouth, while my own hands hovered uncertainly over her body, torn between desire and restraint.

Loud, insistent knocking on the door shattered the moment.

Y/N gasped, and her legs slipped from my sides. 

"I need to look at a gel, Yoongi. What’s taking so long?" Jimin's voice rang out.

Jimin… shit…

I groaned against Y/N's shoulder, gripping her thighs to steady myself. Her fingers remained tangled in my hair, and I felt dangerously close to losing it.

"We're cutting a gel, Jimin," I called out, taking a reluctant step away from Y/N. "Give me a fucking break," I muttered under my breath.

I heard Jimin huff through the door, and Y/N’s voice came low and tense. "What do we do?"

I didn't know about her, but I needed to get out of there. I was uncomfortable and desperately needed to regain control. I moved to the UV box, which was still glowing. Y/N jumped down from the bench as I grabbed the blade, cutting around the bands on the gel. I found it ironic that my hands were now shaking, yet I managed to do a decent job.

Once finished, I shut off the UV light and flicked the room lights back on. Y/N jumped a little, and though I was sure she was staring at me, I couldn’t meet her gaze—I wouldn’t.

I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath. "Take each piece of gel and put it in a single epi tube," I instructed, forcing myself to focus on anything but her. "You can follow the rest of the protocol at the bench."

"Yoongi," she whispered, urgency lacing her voice.

"I’ll be back in a bit," I said, my hand on the doorknob. I didn’t risk a glance at her, fearing that a single look would draw me back in. I opened the door and stormed out, nearly colliding with Jimin, who stood there with his arms crossed.

What the hell just happened?

A few moments later, I was outside the building. Rain hammered down, but I didn’t care. I wished I smoked, drank, or had any vice to help me calm down. I tried deep breaths to steady myself, but the rain only added to the chaos swirling inside me. I made it to the tree line behind the parking lot, leaning against a trunk with one hand while the other pressed against my chest, where my heart threatened to pound its way out. I was panting, sweating, and completely unraveling.

What the hell had I been thinking?

Well, clearly, I hadn’t been thinking at all.

God, I could still taste her on my lips.

I swallowed hard.

Y/N had the sweetest lips I’d ever kissed.

I was doomed.

This could ruin everything. I couldn’t let myself be distracted by Y/N like this. I had lost all control, and I didn’t know what would have happened if Jimin hadn’t knocked. Or worse, what if Y/N had opened the door without knocking? Thank God the light was off, and the “IN USE” sign was outside.

No one could know about this, especially not Jimin—he was Jin’s puppy! If Jin ever found out…

God, this was all so messed up!

I had to make it clear to Y/N—this had to stay between us. We had to pretend it never happened.

It would never happen again.

I could never have my lips on hers again—just the thought of it made my chest ache.

I had known kissing her would be good. She had the most beautiful lips I’d ever seen. They didn’t disappoint. Her kiss exceeded any expectation I had dared to dream. How could I endure not kissing her again, knowing how sweet she tasted?

If I thought it was torture to be around her before, now it was going to be hell.

And she had kissed me back. She had. It wasn’t just me. She wanted this too. Didn’t she know it was wrong? I needed to talk to her, to explain that this couldn’t happen again. We had to keep things professional, to work together without awkwardness. We had to manage that. I needed to manage that.

I wouldn’t look at her lips, or her smile, if that’s what it took. Maybe I could lie and say we needed to wear mouth masks for the rest of the project…

With a groan, I stepped away from the tree. I fisted my hair, realizing I was getting drenched, and walked back into the building. I shook my head to rid myself of some of the water, but I was still soaked when I climbed the stairs.

When I entered the lab, Y/N pretended not to see me, but I knew better. Her posture shifted, her back straightened, and the foot she had been tapping on the floor stilled.

I noticed Jimin was in the lab, standing at his bench across from Y/N, staring at her. It became clear to me that Y/N was putting on a show for him.

I sighed, feeling a little relief wash over me.

Y/N wouldn’t tell anyone—at least that much was clear.

But I still needed to talk to her. What happened was wrong and completely inappropriate. I couldn’t let her get the wrong idea.

I buried myself in my computer for a while, pretending to work by aimlessly scrolling and clicking, but my attention was entirely on Y/N. She seemed to move through the purification protocol without a hitch. What was going through her head?

Y/N strolled into the lab on Thursday, her smile cutting through the sterile, fluorescent gloom like a ray of sunlight. I gave her a nod—polite, detached—but that didn’t stop my heart from racing at the flicker of warmth in her gaze. As I turned back to my work, she let out a sigh that lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her glancing at Jimin's empty bench, and the reminder of his absence hung like a storm cloud between us. 

"Okay," she began, hands planted defiantly on her hips. "Should we talk about this?"

I forced myself to meet her gaze, focusing on those deep, captivating eyes while battling the temptation to let my gaze wander to her lips, which seemed to whisper promises that drove me mad with longing. 

"There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N."

"Well, are you going to go back to being mean to me?" 

"I was never mean to you."

Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and heat crept into my cheeks as I remembered all the stunts I’d pulled—the pranks that had hurt her, the lab coat I’d ruined...

"I won't be mean to you again," I muttered, letting out a heavy sigh and looking at the floor.

"Yoongi..." Her voice was soft, almost melodic, and it tugged at my heart. 

When I met her gaze again, it was a mistake—her lip caught between her teeth was a distraction I didn’t need. My hands clenched into fists, seeking refuge in my pockets as her eyes searched mine, wary but hopeful, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"It won't be awkward, all right? I promise."

That smile of hers struck me like a bolt of lightning, forcing a groan deep within my chest. I could see the words dancing on her lips, ready to spill out, but they vanished like smoke when Jimin walked back into the lab. Taking advantage of the reprieve, I buried myself in my work, fighting to act normal.

But normalcy felt like a distant memory whenever Y/N was near. She moved through the lab with quiet grace, while I stood like a rock in a river of uncertainty, drowning in my thoughts.

As the day wore on and shadows lengthened, I noticed her gathering her things. Instinct kicked in—I pretended to be engrossed in my computer, watching her shuffle and fidget until she finally took a step toward me.

"Hey, Yoongi?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes?" I turned to face her, masking the turmoil inside.

"Um, I was wondering... I know I’m just an undergrad here, and there’s really no room for me to... I-I mean, I know it’s really not my place to ask, but..." Her words faltered, and the crimson blush creeping up her cheeks sent my heart racing.

"Y/N, would you get on with it? I don’t have all day." My frustration boiled over, the energy it took to be normal around her fraying my patience.

Her frown was instant, a storm brewing in those beautiful eyes. 

Shit, that was uncalled for...

"Never mind…" she sighed, disappointment echoing in the air.

"Wait." I took a breath, willing myself to soften. "I’m sorry. Please, Y/N, tell me."

She sighed again, a deep, resigned breath. "I know there’s that recruitment party this Saturday. It’s for prospective students to meet the current students in the department. And I know, I’m just the undergrad, but I think it would be great if I could meet them. You know? Hopefully, in a year, I’ll be going through recruitment myself." Her fingers twisted anxiously in front of her, a sight that both amused and strained my patience.

"Is there a question you wanted to ask?" I barked, the irritation bubbling to the surface.

"Yes…" she snapped back, indignation rising. "My question is: do you mind if I’m there?" She crossed her arms, defiance written all over her.

Why would I care if she came? I hadn’t even planned on attending that stupid party. But suddenly, the thought twisted in my gut, a knot tightening as a realization hit me.

I shot up from my chair, startling her. "Who told you about the party?"

Her eyes dropped, a sigh escaping her lips, and just like that, the truth hit me like a freight train. I fucking knew it.

"You’re going with Jungkook, aren’t you?" I took a step closer, looming over her.

"No, I’m not going with Jungkook." Her voice was steady, but her gaze flickered to meet mine. "But I’m going."

"Well, I guess I’ll see you there, then."

"Okay," she said with a nonchalant shrug, but the smile that graced her lips made my stomach twist. She turned to leave, and I felt something unravel within me—my hands instinctively reached out, fingers curling into frustrated fists. I didn’t know if I wanted to strangle her or pull her into a desperate embrace. All I knew was that I was left staring helplessly as she walked away.

I didn’t need her to say it; I knew Jungkook was behind this. She might not be going with him, but the thought of him lurking at that party made my blood boil. For the first time in a long while, I felt the gnawing sensation of jealousy eat away at my insides.

Fucking Jungkook Jeon.

I couldn’t believe I was even considering this.

Why did it matter if Y/N went to the recruitment party? It shouldn’t. Yet here I was, battling an angry tide rising in my chest, all because of that idiot Jungkook. If she were going with someone more acceptable—someone who didn’t make my skin crawl—I’d be okay with it. I should be okay with it. The rational part of my brain knew that, but the irritation overshadowed everything else.

What did she even see in Jungkook? The guy barely scraped by on his Qual after taking it twice and hadn’t published a single paper. He was working with fruit flies for crying out loud! And his personality? A brick wall. I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t like him. I couldn’t stand him.

I had to go to this party.

At lunch, against my better judgment, I decided to bring it up with Hoseok. 

"Hey, where’s the recruitment party this year?" I asked, trying to sound casual as I stabbed my fork into the mac and cheese.

"You’re going to the recruitment party?" Hoseok dropped his fork, suspicion etched across his face like a roadmap to his thoughts.

"Yes," I groaned, already regretting bringing it up. Of course, he’d make a fuss.

"To our department’s recruitment party?" He pressed a finger to his chest as if I’d committed a heinous crime.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" I shrugged, pushing the macaroni around in my bowl.

"Let me think… maybe because I’ve organized every single one since I got here, and you’ve never attended."

"Will you just answer my question?" I snapped, frustration boiling over.

"It’s at the South Campus Center, bro." Even though he finally answered, his gaze lingered, scrutinizing me like I was a specimen under his microscope.

"Great, thanks." I tried to keep my tone light, rolling my eyes at his obvious scrutiny.

"I can’t believe you’re going." A knowing smile danced at the corners of his lips, and I loathed it.

I pretended not to care, shrugging off the comment as he took a seat next to me. 

"If only I had known all it would take was an undergrad to get through you."

"This has nothing to do with Y/N," I spat, defensiveness creeping in, my irritation sharpening with each word. Her name was Y/N, not ‘the undergrad.’

"Right, so it’s just a coincidence… this is just the year you happen to decide to attend this thing."

"Yes."

"Is she going?" His eyebrow arched, mischief glinting in his eyes.

I groaned and turned away, pretending to be absorbed in my food.

"Dude, I can see it. How she’s affected you. It’s kind of obvious. You can talk to me, you know? It might help."

The breath I took was deep and shaky, every nerve ending igniting with frustration. But before I could stop myself, the words came pouring out. "She drives me crazy, Hoseok. I can’t stand it. I lose all control when I’m around her. I kissed her… I kissed her, and she said she doesn’t want to jeopardize her work in the lab. And it makes sense for her to think that. But the worst part is now I can’t stop seeing her everywhere. She’s in the lab, at the gym, at the freaking library where I get my coffee—she’s everywhere! I need to go back to not seeing her, because I can’t handle this." I stared down at my lunch, the food suddenly unappetizing, a lifeless pile of carbs.

"So you don’t want to see her?" Hoseok asked, surprisingly calm, like he was dissecting a specimen on his lab bench.

"Exactly."

"You don’t want to kiss her again?" He pushed, an amused grin creeping across his face.

"I don’t know what I want!" I barked, irritation flaring.

"Sounds to me like you want to go to the party, see her, and kiss her again. The question is, how are you going to deal with Jungkook?"

My shoulders tightened at the mention of his name, a cold shiver running down my spine. "I don’t care about him."

"I don’t know, man. It’s weird. The vibes are strange. You’re talking about her with a lot of… emotion."

"Emotion?" I snapped, but deep down, I felt the truth behind his words. I was at the mercy of my own feelings, a trembling wreck in the face of Y/N’s smile. I hated it. I wanted to turn it off. I couldn’t afford to feel anything.

"Fine," I muttered, sinking back into my chair, wishing to be swallowed by it.

"You’re going to have to confront those feelings eventually, Yoongi."

I grunted in response, refusing to admit he was right. I didn’t want to think about Y/N, and I definitely didn’t want to deal with Jungkook. All I wanted was to escape this mess, but deep down, I knew I was already trapped.

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[thefrogman]

Back in the olden days, if you used the "keep reading" function on a Tumblr-dot-com post, it would

not get very many notes.

At all.

I am not sure exactly why.

I think people hated pressing an extra thing.

But maybe it was also a psychological phenomenon where, given the choice, they were unwilling to trust me with their time.

But if I sucked them in with a good story or a compelling image, they would get serious FOMO.

When I created a super high effort post-of-length I would get comments like, "This was way too long but before I realized it I was reading the last sentence."

That was a really good feeling.

I used to do tests to figure out the best posting strategies and I think I figured out you'd lose about 90% of your notes if you did a "keep reading" post.

So that notion was ingrained in my brain again and again from when I was very note-obsessed and I have since avoided the "keep reading" option almost like a conditioned response.

Just seeing that squiggly line appear still induces a Pavlovian fear.

But that was probably a decade ago and I did a new experiment. My story about replacing my mailbox did reasonably well with a strategically clickbaity "keep reading."

This was a promising result due to the fact that some people like to send me hate for writing a lengthy post.

I recently got a death threat for writing too much, which was a fun reminder of my M&M days (I melted men's rights activists' brains with a poorly worded analogy and they launched a years long harassment campaign).

It seems in present-era-Tumblr-dot-com many more people prefer pressing an extra thing rather than scrolling a bunch on their smartphone. The collective behavior has changed. And maybe I don't need to use tricks and running gags in order to get folks to "keep reading".

Unfortunately I started writing that ring light post a few months ago so I wasn't able to include that in the experiment. But I am going to try using the keep reading function in the future and as long as the average number of folks that usually read my longer posts continue to read my posts, that will be the standard approach.

I also tag these posts with "long post" so you can flag that if you wish.

While I am no longer in the audience-building phase of my Tumblr career, these essays and stories and educational posts take a considerable amount of time and effort to create, so I do want to make sure everyone who wants to read them is able to. But posts without hearts and reblogs can quickly die a gruesome algorithmic death. Even my most ardent followers would tell me things were not showing up on their dash. (I think replies help mitigate that, so if you like a long post, you can help with engagement.)

The collective noun is a "business" of ferrets.

Do you want to see a business of ferrets ready to do some business?

KEEP READING

I love writing and it is a huge catharsis for me. And I love sharing any knowledge I feel like I have the earned expertise to speak on with authority (technology, photography, light, fun ferret facts, etc). I wish I had the energy to be a photography teacher, but long posts on Tumblr are probably the best I can do for now.

I know my posts are super long, but I try to make them as fun and informationally dense as I possibly can. I don't like wasting people's time if I can avoid it. Though maybe I should trust my follower's attention span a bit more. I have this fear that if I am not constantly entertaining, people will click away or unfollow.

I think a good business for a business of ferrets would be selling pool noodles that look like ferrets.

So as long as I get roughly the same amount of notes I will do the keep reading. And then maybe people can lay off on the mean comments and occasional requests to end my own life because I bloviated about soft light.

100% true ferret fact..

If you ask a ferret what their business is, they will crawl on your shoulder and whisper in your ear...

[katyawriteswhump]

WIP Weekend

Thanks to @medusapelagia for the tag :D You are too kind!

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post or new thread, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from, write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post.

If you’re reading this, you’re invited! If you see someone posting a WIP Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

These are the options:

the freak in the penthouse (steddie au, eddie is an accidental video game milllionaire/steve is a (part-time) sex worker) snippet below!

dragon's pet (steddie, third instalment of my dragon's hoard series--subby steve/occasional-dragon eddie)

tree-shifter fic (harringrove bingo, honestly, if anybody asks they are truly brave because I am a truly weird person and my writing gets even odder)

no upside down au lifeguard fic (harringrove bingo)

Ask away... if you're brave.

A little snippet from 'the freak in the penthouse' chp 2

“Hey, should we put music on?" asked Steve. "Or do you wanna jam? You know, I kinda dabble myself from time to time… uh, you okay?”

Eddie had finally got up. He took two paces across the room and yanked the guitar from Steve’s grip. “Nooooo music.”

“Is that some kinda rule?”

That teeniest smile again. “Shouldn’t you be telling me your rules, Steve? Like how much is a ‘party’ with you gonna set me back? Not that I give a rat’s ass, but…”

Another internal facepalm. Steve had intended to be upfront about that. Then again, it was the first time he’d negotiated for himself. 

“Okay, so you want me to stay the whole night?”

Eddie shrugged. Up close, his dark eyes were intoxicating, sucking Steve in, which was probably why he said, flustered: “Two hundred bucks, okay?”

You were gonna quote four! If Kline comes sniffing, he’ll have at least a hundred off you.

Eddie nodded, laughed. The air reeked of vodka. As well as the weed. Steve pressed on:

“Rules. Okay. Nothing that leaves any marks on my skin. Got any weird kinks?”

“Not right now.” Eddie started fiddling with his rings, suddenly squirmy. “Nothing other than a hankering to sleep with a really cute guy.”

Steve blushed like an idiot, and his heart gave a crazy leap.  What the fuck? “And we gotta use rubbers,” he said.

“Obviously. Anything else? Like, do you kiss on the lips?”

Steve snickered. “You watch too many movies, Eddie.”

“Not much else to do, stuck up here with cable. So, you do kiss on the mouth?”

“Sure thing.” 

Truth was, Steve had been hungry for Eddie’s soft-looking lips since that first merest hint of a smile. He edged forward so they stood pretty much nose to nose. He slipped a hand to cup Eddie’s jaw, and plastered his mouth enthusiastically to Eddie’s. Eddie gave a surprised grunt, not yet parting those enticing lips. 

Steve panicked. Shit, too much?

Then Eddie plunged his tongue straight towards Steve’s tonsils and they started kissing for real, and… Wow! 

It was some kiss.

Chapter one is now up here on ao3. Might post on tumblr later not sure... sort of nervous about it :P

[randomtacoscry]

WIP Wednesday

Okay, so I've never done one of these before, but I wanted to ask for some input on my wip so far. Be aware:

This WIP is far from published!

I just wanted to see how it did on tumblr and maybe try to see if anyone is interested in this kind of story. DISCLAIMER: I am not much of a writer (this is my first official fic- I have written unpublished drabbles and one shots though), so apologies if this sucks. (There is more below the break btw)

“Would it change anything?” Pete asks through a tightened throat and he doesn’t feel Tom’s hand shift, almost like he was expecting Pete to say this. Tom doesn’t answer, at least not verbally, but his eyes tell Pete everything, like they always have. 

It couldn’t. 

Pete and Tom knew the consequences of their relationship. They knew they would never be a regular couple, able to hold hands out in public, or tell friends and their jobs about their relationship. 

But I wish it did. 

Tom didn’t want this either; apparently it was up to higher powers to make both of their decisions for them, no matter what they wanted. Pete didn’t choose to lose Goose. Or Carole. Or to never know his father. And Tom never chose to live in a society like this; where he had to choose between his dream career or a secret that would tear both of their reputations to shreds in a heartbeat. 

Tom closes the distance between them, leaning down to place his forehead against Pete’s. Their breathing matches pace, clicking them together naturally, as if four months haven’t passed since they’ve been together. He feels Tom’s other hand come to the left side of his face, holding onto it like it’s the last thing he’ll ever touch, before the man leans in to press their lips together. 

Pete hates that he kisses back. Hates that his hands grip Tom’s forearms automatically before deepening the kiss. He hates that Tom moves his hands to Pete’s back and presses them even closer together, and that he knows he likes that. Pete lets himself grip the back of Tom’s shirt and he hates that Tom knows what that means. 

Tom pulls the plain gray shirt over his head before continuing to kiss Pete harder. He lifts the hem of Pete’s shirt, placing his cool hands on the warm skin of Pete’s waist, causing him to stiffen at the drastic temperature change. Pete needs Tom closer… he pulls his shirt off, pressing their chest together before finally breaking the kiss off. He rests his head on Tom’s chest, breathing heavily to catch his breath.

This is a bad idea.

Pete feels Tom’s breathing soften and he uses his forehead to push his head off the other man’s chest. He keeps his eyes down before (he already hates himself for this) pressing a kiss to Tom’s collarbone. 

“Are you sure?” His voice is just above a whisper and Pete feels weak for nodding his head ‘yes’. He looks up at Tom and they lock eyes. They both know what each other is thinking-

This is a bad idea…

Tom presses Pete’s chin up and leans down to kiss him and it almost feels like old times. Like they’re in their old, shared assignment and Pete is home on shore leave. Like their relationship is perfectly fine and they’re just enjoying their time together. Back then it felt like nothing was looming over the both of them…

Tom pushes Pete into his bedroom, barely breaking kisses before trailing a line down his neck.

I know this is only about 500 words (don't worry I have more), but I did NOT want to spoil some MAIN plot points. If you have any tips, ideas, or critiques, they are all welcome (whether anonymously, in the tags, or comments)! Thanks for reading! (This is also a first draft, so hopefully it will become more polished in the future.)

18+ below:

Also, any idea how to write M-rated? If anyone has any fics that can help me grasp how to write smut (not really explicit-level), that would be great. I literally have no idea what I am doing, but I would like to make this fic M-rated.

[excedrinpm]

lmfao heads up for hot fucking takes and unpopular opinions about jirai kei

this is just me venting abt petty shit bc I have no real like friends to even begin to explain this to it's rly not that serious:

the more I look into jirai kei on other social medias the more I realize the JK community as a whole actually just fucking sucks I'm ngl.

Like yk if the shoe doesn't fit don't wear it but holllllllly shit its actually a shame that I like dark girly kei fashion & generally enjoy jiraiblr because I feel like I'd be way better off just not even thinking about Jirai Kei.

Like on twitter they're actually just fatphobic proana girlie-pops with horrible self-righteous attitudes who act like they're justified in being horrible for some reason, and on reddit they're all a bunch of lolita wannabes who bully people to hell and back for not "wearing the fashion right" like I've literally seen people bitching about the shade of pink not being "jirai" enough bestie wh...what, and tiktok is just a bunch of kids who are over-romanticizing toyoko kids and sex work in japan and repeating the same four unfunny jokes.

Also like I truly do not understand why the idea of being a toyoko kid is so cute and quirky like they're literally in terrible terrible situations a lot of them are not having fun it's actually so heartbreaking and why are we acting like its an UWU quirky thing to be like borderline forced into engaging in underage prostitution and surrounded by people ODing on cold medicine and self-harming, like what... what part of that is super cute and quirky to you. That's one of my biggest issues is the way people talk about toyoko kids, so many people completely disregard the real gravity of the situation and the way some people talk about them you wouldn't even get a basic idea of the VERY REAL mental suffering a lot of them are enduring.

ALSO and this is so fucking petty I will admit but I'm so sick and fucking tired of seeing people talk about ryousangata like it's a fashion by itself. It literally just means "mass-produced" it's a term used to describe the most popular non-mainstream subculture of the time, like it was used to describe Gyaru through the 90s and 2000s and they never had this issue, and then I've seen people complaining that Liz Lisa and MA*RS are moving away from the "ryousangata" look to other fashion styles like BABE IM SO SORRY but if Liz Lisa and MA*RS are selling it, it's pretty much ryousangata by default I don't understand how you can be so pressed about what is considered ryousangata changing when it's literally not even a fashion by itselffffff its just used to describe whats popularrrrr of fucking course it's changing it has changed multiple times over the yearsssssssssssss oh my GOdddddddddddddddddddddd. Your misunderstanding of the words you are using is literally the only issue here and you're making a fool of yourself as a reSULTTTTtttttt.

and while I'm here bitching about jirai kei completely unprompted I know I've said it before but can we please get your quirky jirai kei memes out of the menhera tag I am on my fucking knees begging you. IDK if its just because its like younger people who are part of Jirai kei and don't actually understand what menhera is (also I'm going to be honest I've never understood the beef between Jirai Kei and Menhera outside of the tagging issue like maybe it's just my experience with the menhera community but I've seen so many people be like "menhera bullies people who aren't in recovery" which I've literally never seen???????? I'm confused??????????????) Like there are overlaps but be so fucking on god you know that jirai kei and menhera are different things and being one does not inherently make you the other and I stg if I see one more dark girly coord or meme about strong zero in the menhera tags I'm going to fucking scream.

Like honestly I bARELY engage with the community outside of tumblr (and honestly even on Tumblr it's only a handful of blogs but i think that's mostly bc I don't rly interact with minors) bc I'm not going to fucking lie I find a majority of the larger jirai kei community absolutely fucking insufferable.

'tis a shame, but I guess it is what it is.

[sparklingchim]

naughty pictures; m | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 6k

rating: 18+

genre: smut, established relationship, idol!au

warnings: nudes, throat fucking, choking, edging, possessiveness, jealousy, unprotected sex, spanking, face slapping, spit kink, dirty talk, squirting, creampie

summary: perhaps you've gone a little too far with teasing jungkook with naughty pictures of yourself after he was done with the concert.

a/n: this fic was never planned to happen, but i couldn't get sowoozoo jk out of my head😣😔✊ (can't tag anyone cause tumblr is a bitch rn, sorry about that :(( )

masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

y/n 9:07 pm

someone is waiting for you at home

jungkookie 9:07 pm

who??

y/n 9:08 pm

[ jpg ]

jungkookie 9:10 pm

holy shit

jungkookie 9:12pm

babe

fuck

taehyung might have seen it because he's sitting next to me

don't start without me

we're in the car

i'll be home in about 10 mins

You have to stifle a laugh at his sudden quick texts he sends you in scarcely more than a few seconds. Yes, you did just send him a picture of you lying down on your shared bed, wearing his favourite lingerie and a hand sneakily tucked into your pantie, the outline of your knuckles showing through the thin fabric. It's funny to see Jungkook getting so excited all of a sudden, even though it has been years since you got into this relationship - and even though this is not your first time sending him filthy pics when you want to tease him a little. You lean against the headboard now, typing your reply with a smirk on your glossy lips. y/n 9:13 pm hm, 10 minutes is still a long time what am i supposed to do in the remaining time? jungkookie 9:13 pm don't you dare touch yourself wait for me be a good girl and listen to me y/n 9:14 pm it's really hard to stop myself after seeing you perform tonight :( jungkookie 9:14 pm you watched it? y/n 9:14 pm of course i did it was on an illegal site though, i forgot to buy a ticket jungkookie 9:14 pm that's fine babe i'm just happy to hear that you watched it y/n 9:15 pm you looked so good like damn every time you were shown i couldn't believe that you are mine it's just i don't know you're making me crazy, koo i think i need to suck your cock to calm down jungkookie 9:16 pm fuck, babe i bet your pussy is so wet right now god im gonna make you ride my face and you're gonna cum all over me, how's that sound? y/n 9:16 pm god yes i love it It's like a magical source prompts your hand to slide down your body, fingers reaching under your rose laced pantie and tenderly brushing over your wet folds. And because the brat in you can't get enough of teasing Jungkook you open your camera and start filming a short video just for him. The movements of your hand fasten a bit, the outlines of your hand making clear what you're doing. Lewdly arching your back and a soft moan erupts from your throat. Shortly after you trail your hand up your body, your fingertips that are coated with your arousal leaving a shiny imprint on your skin. You palm your covered breast before your take those digits into your mouth, full lips slowly sucking on them. A vicious smirk graces your mouth, eyes glimmering with mischief as you moan around your fingers, slightly loader than the first time. And with that you finish the video. Jungkook is typing something, but before you wait to let him text you whatever he was going to say, you send him the video. You press your lips together to prevent the playful grin widening even more. You're undoubtedly sure that Jungkook will hardly survive the car ride with the video you send him. That impish side of you hopes that he has his volume up a bit, allowing the device to let your soft moans fill the car and rile Jungkook more up. y/n 9:17 pm it's really wet for you jungkookie 9:18 pm shit fuck taehyung fucking heard it y/n what didn't you understand about 'don't touch yourself' ? y/n 9:18 pm i'm sorry gukkie :(( i couldn't resist jungkookie 9:18 pm don't you act like you didn't fucking plan this. always doing bratty things and then acting like you're a good girl when i'm home i want you to sit on your knees on the floor and hands behind your back like the obedient slut you are, is that clear? y/n 9:19 pm yes, daddy jungkookie 9:19 pm good and now put your phone away before you do something stupid again You close your phone and throw it across the mattress before you crawl down the floor in front of the bed and sit on your knees. Your lower lip is caged between your teeth, heart beating faster in anticipation of Jungkook's arrival. He could come home at any minute now. Ever since you saw Jungkook in that yellow shirt, full sleeve tattoo exposed, voguish sunglasses framing his face and his eyebrow piercing gleaming in the lights, you couldn't stop yourself from dreaming about all the things that Jungkook could do to you in the bedroom. Of course you knew before how gorgeous and

breath taking he is, but there is just something about today's outfit and radiance of him that make you want to let him degrade you and devour your whole being. It doesn't take long till you hear the front door opening, heavy footsteps nearing the closed bedroom door. Your heart drums in your chest, eyes completely focused on the door and the man who is about to enter it. The doorknob is being pushed down and the door slowly opening reveals Jungkook, who you so desperately long for ever since you watched the online concert. You could swear that your pussy got wetter just by the sheer sight of him. As Jungkook strolls towards you, you keep your eyes locked on his, tilting your head once he's standing in front of you. ,,You just don't know how to listen, do you?" His eyes swallow the sight in front of him, taking every bit of your marvellous body in. You open your mouth to reply, but Jungkook stops you. ,,Don't say a fucking word." His cold voice sends shivers down your spine and make your toes curl in excitement. This is exactly what you wanted and imagined while watching Jungkook perform. ,,What did you think you were doing by sending me that video? Disobeying my order and moaning like a dirty slut? You're lucky that only Taehyung was in the car with me." You have to bite your tongue to prevent yourself from asking questions like, why didn't you wear earphones like you usually do or why didn't you check the volume of your phone before clicking on it? Jungkook's thumb brushes over your cheek, trailing down to your lower lip. ,,Open." You take his thumb inside, tongue ploddingly circling around his digit. But then he exchanges his thumb with two of his fingers. He drags them all the way in, the sudden movement making you cough. He fucks your mouth with his long and thick fingers, watching your eyes get teary and smirking every time you try to hold back your chocking. With a harsh pull he drags them out of your mouth again, taking his slick fingers in his own mouth and licking them clean from your saliva. Jungkook leans down, one hand cupping your face. ,,Tongue." You immediately stretch out your tongue, looking up at him with obedience glimmering in your orbs. A big drop of Jungkook's spit falls onto your tongue. You close your mouth and visibly swallow his saliva. Jungkook hums satisfies before he leans back again. ,,Take my pants off," he orders. While your hands work on opening his belt and pulling down the zipper, Jungkook removes his black pullover and scatters it across the room. As you tug his pants down you can't stop gawking his arm painted with tattoos and chest that is graced with his big muscles. Jungkook kicks his pants away. You rest your hands on your bare thighs, your digits tickling just from thinking about touching Jungkook's body, but you're certain he won't allow you to. He discards his briefs and his rock hard cock springs free, nearly slapping your face. You swallow once you take his length into sight. Big and hard and veiny. So ready to get sucked by you. Jungkook spreads his precum over his cock, his hand leisurely stroking himself, pushing his foreskin back with every rub. ,,Did you think about sucking me off while watching me tonight?" Jungkook's dark voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You nod. Perhaps the first thing you want to do whenever you feel horny. ,,What a naughty slut you are." He grabs his cock from the base and rubs his tip over your face, his sticky precum marking your cheeks and lips. You poke your tongue out, getting a brief taste of his cock. Jungkook hisses and takes a step back. Jungkook clicks his tongue. ,,Did I fucking tell you to open your mouth?" He grabs a fistful of your hands, tugging at your strands with a strong hold. ,,Please, I just wanna suck you off," you reply, voice oh so sweet and batting your eyelashes innocently. ,,Greedy whore," Jungkook says, letting go of your hair. He rubs the cockhead over your lips and you have to dig your nails into your thighs to not open your

mouth and take him. ,,You really want to? Huh?" ,,Uh-huh." Even you can't believe how desperate you sound. ,,Then open your mouth." Within a second you part your lips, eyes looking up at him with hope. ,,Hands behind your back." You do, impatiently stretching your tongue out. You thought Jungkook would start slow, maybe let you get used to his size, but you certainly didn't think about him ramming his cock past your lips, hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes sting with tears and you gag around him. The warmth of your mouth envelopes Jungkook's hard, veiny cock and he shortly kicks his head back, relishing the tightness of your throat, letting out a pleased groan. ,,Aw, already crying, baby?" he coos, thumb sweeping over the one tear that rolled down your cheek. Saliva gathers in your mouth and you swallow, your throat tightening even more around his length. ,,Shit," Jungkook moans, taking that as the go for fucking your mouth. He starts moving his hips, long cock pushing in and out, his tip hitting your throat continuously. Low moans ring through the room as Jungkook picks a faster rhythm. Your face was already dirty with his precum and now your chin is coated with your own saliva. ,,That's what you fucking get for behaving like a bad girl," Jungkook hisses, hips rolling forward with a hard push. You choke around his cock, eyes filling with tears again. Brows furrowing as you try to relax your throat the best you're able to. His tattooed hand is pushing the back of your head closer to him, your nose brushing his shaved skin. You swallow, making Jungkook hiss when your warm throat gets even tighter. ,,I bet your pussy was a mess after the concert was done, hm? Did you get wet while watching me?" In small moves he rocks his hips back and forth. You close your eyes, the tears immediately falling down your cheeks and dropping to the ground, following the spit that already trickled down your chin. His fingers in your hair tighten, wrapping around a few strands before harshly tugging at them. ,,Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you," Jungkook exclaims, pierced eyebrow dangerously arched. ,,God, you enjoy this way too much, don't you, baby?" He slips his cock out of your mouth and you cough and splutter, tears coursing down your face. ,,Such a pathetic slut." He spits on your face, rubbing his spit into your skin with his cockhead. You're glad that you already took your make-up off, because else your face would have been way much of a mess than now. Jungkook taps the tip of his cock on your cheeks, moving down to your tongue and doing the same there when you poke out your wet muscle as an invitation. You love having his cock in your mouth, being able to taste him. You close your mouth a little, sucking on his tip. Jungkook puffs out a shaky breath, enjoying your gentle sucking for a moment before he pulls your head away. You watch him as he lies down on the bed, hand prompting you to follow him. ,,Sit down on my face." As soon as you hear the words you discard your panties and climb up the bed, throwing your leg over Jungkook's body and position yourself over his head. His fingers pull your soaked lips apart, cursing once when he ogles your glistening pussy. Jungkook pulls you down by gripping your ass with his big hands, his wet muscle liking a stripe up over your folds. You shudder when he meets your clit briefly, hands gripping the headboard. His digits hold your hole open and he flicks his tongue over your entrance, teasing it with short and quick brushes before he sinks into your warmth. ,,Jungkook," you pant, head slowly falling forward. His nose nudges your clit, rubbing against your sensitive bud with every move of his head. Soon your hips start rolling. Jungkook mouth latches onto your clit and suckles on it, making you squirm and squeak on top of him. ,,Just like that, ohhh." One hand trails down to his hair, tugging at his strands and combing his soft hair. You move faster now, Jungkook's grunts against your pussy prompting your

aching hole to clench around nothing, making it long for his big cock. His name is embedded in your brain like a mantra, his too skilled mouth making you see stars. Jungkook's hands skim over your bare back, tongue swirling over your clit in fast movements. One thumb teases your hole, not quite sinking in, but the added sensation is enough to make you grip the headboard harder, shut your eyes close and focus on the feeling inside your stomach that steadily grows. You choke out a moan, the anticipation of your orgasm running through your body like a wildfire. He is slurping your juices, his face covered in your arousal. ,,'tis so good," you slur. His tongue is wild and fierce, relentlessly assaulting your throbbing clit. Jungkook reaches for his dick to rub his cock. He can't bear to listen to your delicious sweet moans without touching himself, he'd go crazy. ,,Don't stop - fuck, baby - please don't stop." Pleasure fills every cell of your body. Your legs close around his head more, trapping his face between your thighs. The coil in your stomach is so close to finally shatter. Your thighs start to tremble and you're momentarily stop breathing, too focused on your climax than anything else. Suddenly Jungkook pulls you down from his face, his skilled tongue gone from your drenched folds and all that is left is your shaky breathing and trembling body from your stolen orgasm. ,,I was close!" you complain. Jungkook scoffs. ,,Sweet of you to think that you get to cum when you want to." ,,Jungkook," you whine. Fuck, you didn't think it through when you decided to tease him. ,,Don't you even dare to look at me with big innocent eyes. You're a dirty slut and dirty sluts are only allowed to cum when I want them to cum." You huff. You won't be able to persuade Jungkook with your pouty and innocent looks this time. ,,Ride my cock and maybe then I'll allow you to cum," Jungkook says, grabbing your hips to position you better on his lap. There's no need to say it again, you already raise your body to align his cock to your entrance, sinking down once your positioned it right. Your both moan at the feeling. ,,You're so goddamn tight, fuck." His cock stretches your walls open, making room for his huge girth. ,,S-so big," you whimper, eyes momentarily closed when you get used to his size. You slowly start moving your hips back and forth and build up a rhythm. ,,A whore like you can take my cock, don't you think so?" You don't answer, way too focused on how his cock is feeling inside you, stroking just the right places. Forceful fingers grip your throat, his big hand completely covering your throat. Your brows pinch when he puts pressure on your neck. Hands resting on his chest for leverage. ,,I think I've never seen you this desperate before," he smirks, smug amusement lingering in his eyes. ,,Love your cock," you admit, clasping his arm that's around your throat. ,,Didn't expect anything else from a desperate slut like you," he retorts, smacking your ass. You moan his name, bouncing faster on his lap and sinking your teeth into your lower lip. Jungkook could listen to you screaming his name all day long. ,,Who's slut are you, hm?" ,,Yours - mhm, fuck - I'm your slut, Jungkook!" Jungkook slaps your ass again, fingers gripping your flesh and nails digging into your skin. You whimper, thighs starting to ache a little, but you won't stop - can't stop - when you get closer to cumming with every rock of your hips. Jungkook thumb nestles between your bodies and starts circling around your clit. You mewl when he cruelly flicks his thumb over your little bud, carefully watching your reaction. Your boobs start bouncing as you fasten your speed, almost spilling out of the bra cups. He cherishes the sight in front of him, his hand around your throat moves to cup your cheek. Jungkook's thumb caresses your bottom lip, it's red and puffed from kissing and biting, looking so beautiful and lewd. You take his thumb in, working your tongue around it while holding

eye contact with Jungkook.

A few sweaty strands of his hair fell onto his forehead. His whole body is covered in a layer of sweat, just like you. He withdraws his thumb from your mouth before he holds your hips with it, a curse falling from him as your pussy contracts around his length. Your hips move in an unsteady manner, but it's enough for you to set the knot in your stomach on fire. ,,Can I please cum?" you whine desperately. ,,No." God, he's so annoying. An exasperated huff bubbles past your lips. You find it hard to concentrate on not cumming when he fiddles with your clit, so you wrap your fingers around his wrist. ,,Fuck, then please stop playing with my clit if you don't want to make me cum!" With a sly smirk he complies, hand wandering to your hair instead and pulling you down to him. His lips meet yours, passionately kissing you with his soft mouth. Jungkook's wet muscle explores your mouth wildly and you moan into the kiss when he squeezes your ass with boss his hands. Jungkook moves on to your neck, biting and sucking and liking until he his satisfied with the result - neck blooming in red marks. When you're both done kissing and marking each others bodies you start bouncing on his cock again, hips languidly twisting and desperate tones filling the air again. Jungkook's mind is too fogged up with pleasure and euphoria to be able to control himself. Perhaps that's why he tugged at your bra a little too strong, and made the flimsy piece snap in the middle of your boobs instead of only tugging the cups down. ,,Ah, fuck, sorry, babe," he grunts, his words more hollow than being actually sincere. ,,Koo," you scold, the straps of your bra slowly falling from your shoulders and freeing your tits. Jungkook hurls the two pieces away and palms both of your breasts. He isn't really concerned about him destroying his favourite set of lingerie - yet. ,,This isn't the first time," you remind him, words breathlessly falling from you as you keep going with your fast rolls on his cock. The amount of bras, panties and tights he managed to tear to pieces are uncountable. ,,I know." Your soft tits in his hands are way too distracting. God, he can't get enough of your gorgeous body. ,,I'll always buy you new lingerie though,", he says, short memories of every time he bought you sexy underwear, the Little smiles that always graced your face when you opened the too expensive boxes with even more expensive little pieces of clothing in there. Jungkook loves spoiling you, he can't quite decipher the why, but he guesses it's for the sole reason of seeing you happy whenever he buys you something. ,,It's been a while." Your hands reach down to his chest, hands slowly skimming over his abs. ,,Really?" Jungkook tries to think about the last time he gifted you a new set, but the last time he is able to recall is way too far away. ,,You're right. I've been - shit - I've been too busy with work." ,,It's fine, babe," you assure. You feel how your chest tightens again, and how your insides are all tossing and turning in anticipation of the incoming climax that grows bigger with every brush against your sweet spot. ,,Well, it's only fine if you make me cum right now." It's like you words snap him out of his trance, remind him that he is supposed to be punishing you for that stupid video you sent him and not have a small chit chat with you. He tweaks your nipple, causing you to whimper. ,,Oh no, absolutely not." Jungkook wraps his arms around your back, pulling you down to his body and starts to pound into your pussy from beneath you. You squeal at his rapid pace, the layer of sweat on his chest sticking to your cheek. ,,You want to cum so badly, don't you?" he coos. The headboard slams against the wall with every snap of his hips, leaving your pitiable neighbours no room for imagination at what you are both doing. ,,I'm so close," you whimper, hands gripping his biceps and nails scratching his skin. ,,Yeah? You're close?" You nod, eyes tightly shut close and body yearning for release. His

hands reach down for your ass, big hands spanking your cheeks before he holds them in a strong grip. ,,You want to cum? Huh?" A shred of hope arises within you when you hear his words. But what a shame that you have your eyes closed and can't see the crooked smile that blooms on Jungkook's face. ,,Please," you beg. But then Jungkook holds up your hips and let's his cock slip out from your clenching hole. ,,Jungkook," you mewl, your pussy pulsating around nothing and longing to get filled up again. He throws you onto the mattress, spreading your legs and sitting between them. Your chest is rising up and down heavily and your whole body is covered in sweat. ,,You're so mean," you say, brows stubbornly pinched together. ,,And you're so wet," he replies, a digit running over your soaked pussy lips. ,,Shit," he whispers to himself, mesmerised by your pretty pussy. His cock is back inside your pussy before you realise. You sigh pleased, his girth perfectly reaching every spot inside you without having to try. Jungkook grabs your calves and pushes them up to your chest. ,,You're such a slut for taking my cock so well," Jungkook comments, eyes glued to the spot where your bodies connect. Your tits move with every move and you're immediately back at fighting back your orgasm that is so easy to trigger after everything Jungkook put you through. Jungkook stares at the bulge in your lower stomach, the movements of his cock visibly showing through your body. His deep thrusts are already rekindling the heat in you core, your muscles tightening in pleasure. ,,You fucking did it on purpose, didn't you?" Jungkook asks, tongue poking his cheek and eyes as cold as never before. ,,You wanted him to hear you moan, right? Wanted to show him how you sound in bed and get all the attention, huh?" Jungkook clenches his sharp jawline. You don't reply, only shyly biting your lip and averting your gaze to where he pounds into you. Jungkook is right. And him calling you out like that is oddly making you feel embarrassed. ,,Answer me, slut," he urges. Jungkook's hand slaps your cheek harshly, leaving a red mark on your already flushed skin. ,,Y-yes. I did it on purpose," you mumble, now meeting his piercing gaze. ,,God, I hate the brat that you are sometimes," he groans, punctuating his statement with a hard drag of his cock. ,,Always seeking for attention, huh? Am I not enough for you dirty slut?" You shake your head vigorously. ,,You are enough - nnghh - I, I just wanted to tease." ,,Wanted attention from another man?" He is rapidly drilling inside you, bruising your aching pussy with fierce strokes. The jealousy on his mind goading his unrelentless speed and the dirty words that fall from him. ,,No! I only want you! Only you, Kookie," you choke out, surprised at yourself for managing to speak at this point. ,,Oh, is that so?" He asks, voice sounding like he doesn't believe you, doesn't believe the pathetic words that you puff out. ,,Uh-huh!" Voice small and being the absolute opposite of sounding convincing, but how are you supposed to focuse on that, when you have a big cock mercilessly splitting your pussy open? ,,Huh? What was that?" He heard that paltry affirmation clearly, but that's not enough for Jungkook. He raises his pierced eyebrow, scanning your fucked out features and waiting for an answer. ,,I want you, Jungkook! Only you, no one else!" ,,Yeah?" ,,Yes!" He grabs your thighs to wrap them around his waist, hands squeezing your throat one more time for good measure. Your heels dig into his body with every stroke against your sensitive spot. Your heartbeat roars in your ears, the hot pleasure blurring every thing except Jungkook's perfect girth fucking you brainless. ,,Then show me how much you want me," Jungkook pants. ,,Cum around my cock and show me how much my dirty slut wants me." His hands are anchored in your hips, digits creating bruises all over your soft skin. Jungkook's approval for you to cum comes out of nowhere, but your body is certainly

ready for it - has been for so long now. ,,I c-can cum?" ,,Do it now or I'll use you a bit longer as my fuck toy." The small threat, combined with his dark eyes sends chills down your spine, but at the same time you're quick to react and reach down to touch your clit, playing with yourself to make you cum faster, but before your finger is close to your swollen bud, Jungkook grabs your small wrist. ,,You didn't want me to touch your clit before too, so now you don't get to touch it either." That smirk that spreads on his face is so wicked. An immediate whine erupts from your throat. ,,Complain some more and you'll be choking on my cock again." Well, that doesn't sound that bad, but reaching your high is higher on your priority list, so you fist the sheets next to you instead, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. All the times Jungkook wickedly robbed you from having an orgasm comes crashing down on your whole body with full force. The intensity catches you off guard, mouth agape and eyes tightly screwed shut as you let the knot in your stomach snatch and overwhelm all your senses. Every inch tickling and trembling as the pleasure overtakes each nerve of yours until you are a nothing but a mess beneath him. Jungkook is literally creating a mess, his teasing and edging on you causes a climax that feels like it could shatter you whole, your pussy leaking with juices, spilling everywhere and making everything wet. The sheets, Jungkook's lower body, your thighs - everything soaked in your arousal. A high pitched moan cuts through the thick air, rebounding off the walls and echoing in your ears. One hand palming your breast, while the other ones tightly clenches its fist around the sheet, you lock your legs tighter around his waist. Jungkook curses, watching the scene unfold in front of him and tries to get his eyes on every little detail, take all of your utterly beautiful being in. He'd never get tired of watching you getting completely lost in pleasure. Your walls flutter around him, a shaky breath falling from his mouth as you continuously tighten on his cock. Jungkook follows with a low, prolonged groan, stilling his hips momentarily when he spills his seed inside you, before he continues with a slower speed, cock pumping you full with his cum. You're gasping for breath, the climax overwhelmed you in every sense you could possibly imagine and making your brain go all foggy. You can't think of anything else than the astounding feeling of pleasure that rippled through your nerves like sparks of a fire. ,,Fuck, I love making you squirt around my cock," Jungkook says, eyes glued to the spot that's now all soaked and drenched with your juices. Your stomach clenches with every move he does, your pussy sensitive like never before. ,,Jungkook," you sigh, his name rolling over your pretty lips the softest he has ever heard. ,,You're good, baby?" Jungkook's thumb caresses your hip bone, eyes filled with so much adoration. Your cheeks are flushed, lips painted in a darker colour, eyes soft like they're always when you look at him and neck marked with different shades of love. He adores this sight. Could never get enough of it. And that's why he loves fucking you till you're in the current state, because god, you're gorgeous and magnificent and unbelievable. You hum your response, too exhausted to say anything. Your hands seek for his body, pulling him down once your tired limbs reach him and let his warmth engulf you. Your body still feels electrified after you calmed down for a bit, Jungkook's cock still tucked within your drenched pussy reminding you of the sharp and calculated thrusts that got you right were you are right now. Jungkook peppers kisses over your face and neck, allowing him to cling onto him like a koala baby while he comforts you. Slowly his cock slips out of you. You whimper at that, but Jungkook is quickly there to seals your lips together with a sweet peck. Jungkook cleans you up before he's back in the same position, lying on top of you and nuzzling

his face into your neck. You stare at the ceiling, deep in thoughts before an annoyed huff bubbles from your lips. ,,What's wrong, baby?" Jungkook plants a loving kiss on your collarbone and then looks up at you. ,,I'm mad." ,,At what?" ,,I changed the bed sheets today and now they're all dirty again." You pout thinking about having to change them again. Jungkook chuckles, stealing a kiss from you, but the pout remains. ,,It's fine, I'll change them for us." ,,But they're my favourite sheets," you sulk. ,,Well, next time don't squirt if you don't like the mess afterwards." ,,It's your fault for edging me the whole time!" you defend. ,,I'd say then don't make me mad, but I know you do all of this bratty shit to get me to order you around and call you dirty names, because you're a naughty girl." You faintly blush at that, biting your lip and hiding your face into his biceps. Jungkook is right. With all of it. Jungkook chuckles at your reaction, brushing your hair with his fingers. ,,How exactly did Taehyung react to my video?" you ask when you suddenly remember how you got Jungkook mad in the first place. ,,Shit, I totally forgot about that," he groans. ,,I'm still pissed at you for that." ,,Wait, did he see it?!" ,,No, but it's bad enough that he heard you moaning." You giggle. Jungkook is noticeably upset about it, so you comb your fingers through his hair. ,,It's fine baby." ,,It's not fine. You're mine, y/n. No one gets to hear those delicate sounds from you except me," he claims and his arms around you tighten their hold. ,,Did he say something?" ,,Mmh-hm," he mumbles and nuzzles further into your neck. ,,Soo...?" You question and tilt your head to have a better look at him. ,,Taehyung can be an asshole sometimes." You know when it comes to you Jungkook is sensitive and pretty easy to provoke, because of his protective nature. Which is also the reason why the boys sometimes - well, recently more often than only sometimes - take that as an advantage and tease him with you. ,,He said something mean?" you try to guess, but Jungkook shakes his head. ,,Doesn't matter what he said," Jungkook answers, lifting himself up from your body. You're a bit confused about him avoiding to answer your questions, but barely a second later Jungkook slides his arms under you, his strong arms securely hoisting you up. You naturally wrap your arms around his neck and don't even question where he is going with you. ,,We should take a shower now." Jungkook ducks down to press a sweet kiss to your temple. ,,Or do you want me to run you a bath?" he asks, eyes roaming over your face to discern if he exhausted you more than usually today. ,,Showering is fine," you reassure. ,,You're sure?" You nod and lean your head against his strong chest. Jungkook continues walking, but to your confusion he doesn't aim for the bathroom but walks down the hall. ,,You should drink some water first," he says after feeling your baffled stare on him. ,,I'm good, Koo." ,,Your throat must be feeling sore after all the screaming, babe." Your cheeks heat up when he calls you out like that. ,,N-no? That's not the case," you defend yourself. Jungkook casts a brief glance down to you, his pierced eyebrow arched. ,,I wasn't that loud...," you pout. ,,You can't tell me your throat is okay after I shoved my whole cock inside you, babe." ,,See? It wasn't my screaming, it was you stuffing your whole cock into my throat." ,,Was it too much? Did you not like it?" he asks, concern coating his words. He stops walking towards the kitchen and eyes you with a worried look. You roll your eyes. ,,Really?" ,,Yeah, you're right. I don't know why I was worried, you're a whore for sucking cock." ,,Jungkook!" you scold, swatting his chest. ,,What? Am I wrong?" he says, with a big bunny smile adorning his face. ,,No, but you're getting too comfortable with calling me dirty names outside of sex." ,,Then you have to stop getting comfortable with sending me nudes," he

retorts. Your mouth hangs open. ,,I know that you like them! Your the one always asking me to send something." ,,Next time I ask, don't send me anything, okay?" ,,But why?" ,,It's risky." ,,I know damn well that you're gonna ask for something the next time you guys go on tour," you say, rolling your eyes again, because he is being ridiculous right now. ,,I won't," he claims. ,,And if I do, then please don't send anything. At least one of us has to stay strong." ,,Babe, I think-" You want to tell him how stupid this sudden idea of his is - you can't even imagine sending no nudes to Jungkook when he is away, it's something usual between the two of you - but he cuts you off. ,,No, this is officially the end of sending nudes to each other. We won't be doing that anymore," Jungkook says. By now you arrived at the kitchen and Jungkook searches a glass for you. ,,I don't like this," you mumble, sighing when Jungkook gives no response and rest your cheek on his buff chest. The disappointment of him cancelling something that kept your relationship fun and exciting doesn't last for long though - you know he won't be able to hold onto his new rule, he'll be begging you to send something soon enough.

[onlymingyus]

cw; xu minghao (the8) x gn reader, suggestive - minghao and the reader are both naked

imagine laying in the floor of minghao's studio. the lights are dimmed, the sun is setting so there is an orange tint to the entire room that is warm and calming. he smiles at you as he sits on his hip, a paint brush hanging from his slender fingers, his hair long enough that it hangs just in front of his eyes.

you watch him lean to dip the brush into a deep rich blue paint as he bites at his lip before he brings the paint to your bare stomach and runs it along your skin watching as you suck in your breath. "it's cold." he laughs at your words very softly with a nod. your eyes travel over his bare skin as the brush moves over your chest as he swirls it in a design.

minghao swallows hard as your fingernails gently run over his thigh, this was sensual and romantic. it was everything he had hoped it would be as he worked to paint the scene onto your skin. "you are so beautiful."

you laugh closing your eyes as he switches the brush changing colors working on another space of your skin leaning in closer to work on smaller details of his painting. "you are looking at your painting."

shaking his head minghao leans back and brings the paint brush up to your face trailing it along your nose making you smile before he leans down to press tender kiss to your lips before speaking on them. "my painting is only as beautiful as my canvas."

———————————

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[soft-ramuda]

“Sweet.”

uhhhh sooooo this ramuda week prompt list is by @/ramumemura on twt !! so shoutout to them for providing this amazing prompt list for such an amazing character !! give them a follow too !!

this is my first time posting here and i spent a good amount of time lurking in the ramuda amemura x reader tag and there is great lacking for oneshots about my number one boi so uhhh have this !!

this might suck as i haven't properly written anything in two years but i tried my best OTL have fun and enjoy tbf this was really fun to write and i love ramuda so much he deserves the world omg

lowercase intended !! idk how tumblr formatting works since i am very unfamiliar with it so uhhh apologies >< im also on mobile so double apologies ><

words: 1,043 <333

sunmary:

do you still want to taste the icing, y/n?”

you nodded then he pressed his lips to yours. the kiss lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away. an unprecedented whine left your lips which only caused him to chuckle.

“it tastes sweet, doesn't it, bunny?”

••••

eggs? check!

flour? check!

baking powder? check!

everything else that was needed to make cupcakes that ramuda couldn't list on the top of his mind? triple check check check!

ramuda stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth as he tied his bangs up to prevent them from being a distraction. after that, he grabbed a pretty pastel pink apron that had shibuya's cutest baker embroidered on it in different brightly coloured letters. he stood by the kitchen counter, happily waiting your return as you promised to bake cupcakes with him as an early birthday celebration. he stared at the door of his apartment, bouncing up and down on the soles of his feet, as if he was an excited puppy waiting for his owner's return.

a few minutes later, the door opened and ramuda's imaginary puppy ears and tail perked up and wagged respectively.

“y/n–nee!” he exclaimed, running over to tackle you in a hug.

“ramu–chan!” you steadied yourself because you almost fell over when he suddenly threw all of his weight on you. “as adorable as you are, please don't scare me like that. i haven't even properly entered the apartment.”

his response was a giggle and to snuggle his face deeper in your chest, holding you closer to him. you rolled your eyes playfully yet you couldn't help but smile at the affection you received from your boyfriend. you placed your hand on his head and gave his hair a ruffle, appreciating the warmth he gave off. it was surely needed after a tiring day.

he looked up at you with sad puppy dog eyes and an exaggerated pout on his lips. “but you promised,” he whined like a child, exaggerating his tone on the last syllable of ‘promised’, “you said we'd bake cupcakes so i prepared!”

you rolled your eyes, trying your best to remove his arms around your torso (to no avail, by the way). you gave up after a few struggles because his grip was strong.

“i never said we'd never bake!”

“but you took so long!”

you laughed at the way he stomped his foot while still looking up at you with a fake glare. he huffed, turning up his nose, and looking away at you to cement the fact that yes, he was ‘mad ’ at you. he showed no signs of letting you go. with the way he acted, you couldn't believe he was gonna be 25 in a few days.

“alright, alright.” you raised your hands in faux defeat. “i'm sorry i had to work today. let go of me so i can change and we can get started.”

his imaginary tail wagged as he smiled, letting go of you, raising his arms in victory. he stood behind you and began pushing you in and towards the room you two shared.

“hurry up, y/n–nee!”

“be patient!”

“no! i already waited all day!”

••••

usually, when you baked on your own, it would be swift, clean, and easy. usually you'd be done within an hour — preparation and other stuff already thrown in there. but when ramuda was in the picture… oh boy.

it basically took you two almost two hours to finish up because of all the distractions (kissing, flirting, throwing ingredients at each other's faces, all that stuff). flour wasn't only on the countertop like it should be when things get a bit messy but also on the floor, on the kitchen walls, in the sink … honestly it was everywhere in the kitchen. the mess due to a certain someone initiating a flour fight and of course, you wouldn't say no to an ongoing war so you had to fight along.

that was the only mess that you permitted because cleaning up would be a pain in the ass and ramuda would use his birthday as an excuse to get out of cleaning. so far, besides the two of you being covered in flour, sugar, and egg shells, everything went by smoothly and ramuda was the best (but also the worst) assistant there could be.

you took a breath of relief as you pushed the cupcake tray into the oven. you turned the oven on, set an alarm on your phone, and walked over to ramuda who was busy mixing the sweet lemon flavoured icing. he picked that flavour because yellow for fp, bunny !

you leaned on the countertop, looked at his face, and smiled. his tongue stuck out at the side of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration– you couldn't help but think he was adorable … and handsome.

‘i want to kiss him right now.’

when he noticed you were looking at him, he winked and gave you a side smile. he chuckled, breaking you out of your trance.

“like what you're seeing, bunny?” he said, his voice lower than usual.

you became red and buried your face in his shoulder. he giggled and leaned his head against yours.

“taste the icing if it's alright, y/n!” he said excitedly, his voice back to normal before moving his shoulder so you'll stop leaning on him (rude). but before you could react, he dipped his finger in the mix and booped your nose, leaving the icing there.

you twitched your nose and tried to reach it with your tongue. ramuda watched amused as you tried. you both laughed after multiple failed attempts. eventually you gave up and tried to wipe away the icing on your nose. but before you could, ramuda grabbed your hand, twirled you, then he placed his hand on your hips. your faces centimetres apart. he had a smirk on his lips as you blushed redder. he licked your nose, removing all the icing before he hummed.

“do you still want to taste the icing, y/n?” he asked the same deep voice as earlier, tongue stuck out teasingly. he leaned in closer, his lips almost touching yours.

you nodded. before you could process anything, he pressed his lips to yours. you kissed back, your hands going to the collar of his dress shirt, pulling him closer— deeper. the kiss lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away. an unprecedented whine left your lips which only caused him to chuckle.

“it tastes sweet, doesn't it, bunny?

[itsallyscorner]

Play Me A Song

Paring: Tom Holland x fem!reader

Summary: This is based off the video of Tom playing guitar that he posted on Instagram:) Tom facetimes you to help brighten up your day.

Warnings: none

A/n: Not me using fan fiction as a coping mechanism for my stress, yet ONCE AGAIN.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

“Hellooo, gorgeous girl!” Tom cooed as his face popped up onto your phone screen.

You let out a nasally giggle, the side of your face snuggling deeper into the pillow Tom would use when he was over at your house.

Tom tilts his head at the phone, a hint of a smile on his blush colored lips. The action caused his mop of chocolate brown curls to slightly bounce, catching your attention. You longed for the feeling of running your hands through his soft hair. You missed the way it felt between your fingers and how it would make Tom nuzzle closer to you.

“How was your day? You sounded a bit upset on the phone.” He checked in, voice soft and sweet, yet full of concern. His brows furrowed, causing a wrinkle to form between his brows.

You breath in, smelling the hints of him on your pillow. He was miles away, FaceTime allowed you to see and talk to him, though it wasn’t the same as him being beside you. If you were together right now, he would probably envelop you with his protective arms, pull you into his warm chest, and press kisses all over any bit of your exposed skin. His curls would tickle against your neck while he buried his head into the small space between your neck and shoulders—though you wouldn’t mind the tickle because it would remind you that he was there with you.

You sighed, “Today was a rough day. My professors have been piling work on us and I got called into work on my day off. I haven’t even gotten to start that research paper for class—I’m just so burnt out. I’m tired of trying, Tommy.”

Tom pouted, bringing the camera near his face to feel closer to you. He only felt the heat of his phone screen against his face, but he could still feel the light vibrations of your voice through the phone’s speakers. He placed the speaker of his phone slightly atop his chest, so he could feel the rhythm of your words against him. It reminded him of the days you two would cuddle after the both of you had long days at work. You would tell each other about your days and bask in the feeling of being in each other’s arms. He missed the feeling of being close to you.

“I know you have a lot of work to do, but you need to give yourself breaks, darling. And don’t tell me that you don’t need a break, you’re human (y/n), there’s only so much you can do in a day.” He began. Tom knew how you could get when college got overwhelming. Sometimes there were weeks where you would throw yourself into work, with no sleep, minimal food, and too many cups of coffee. He adored the diligence you had for your education, he wished he could’ve had that when he was still in school, but he wanted to make sure that you were taking care of yourself.

“Listen, you got this, I know you do. You’re the most intelligent and hard working woman I have ever met in my life. There’s nothing you can’t do, because I know, one way or another, you’re gonna find a way to do it. You always do. I just don’t want you to forget to take care of yourself. I know your education is important, but so are you.” He finished, a small smile forming on his lips. You hum in response, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself Tommy.”

What you say seems to reassure him, his shoulders visibly loosened up and the smile on his face grows a bit wider. Your own lips turn up on their own, reciprocating his smile.

“How about you, how was your day?” You ask him. Tom sits up and leans against his headboard.

“Well they’re still renovating the house, so Harry and I decided to rent out a place not too far from mum and dad’s. We actually had lunch with them, I got to see Tessa—gosh, I wish you were here right now. Tess was bouncing all over the place and giving everyone kisses, you would’ve loved it. And Paddy! He’s gotten so much taller since I’ve last seen him, and his voice keeps getting deeper, it’s actually embarrassing for me to be beside him because I’m older and I sound like I’m the one going through puberty.” He rambled, one of his hands making gestures and his face making expressions as he spoke. You loved the way he could just go on about a certain topic, especially when it came to his family. As sad as it was to see him leave for the UK, you were also happy because you knew he’d get to see his family.

He continued to talk about his day until his leg bumped into something, causing a hollow thump to emit from the object.

“What was that?” He leaned forward, the sound of his sheets rustling as he moved to grab the object filling your speakers.

“My guitar.” He grunted, holding the instrument up. “Remember, you got this for me for my birthday!” He proudly reminded you. You had gotten him the Ed Sheeran edition Martin Guitar after he had been going on and on about wanting to learn how to properly play the instrument. At the same time, he had a little obsession with Ed Sheeran and his music, so when you saw the guitar in the shop, you thought why not? You knew he would love it.

You fondly chuckled at him, “Yeah I do! You even promised to write me a song one day after you opened it.”

The last part of your sentence caught his attention, “I will write you a song one day, I’m very serious about that promise, love.” He pointed at you.

“Oh, are you?” You tease him.

“Yes, I am. In fact, ever since I’ve gotten back home, I’ve been practicing again and I’m doing much better.” He confidently told you.

“Can you play me a song?” You softly ask him.

“I can play you ‘Grow as we Go’ by Ben Platt. It’s the song I’ve been practicing.” He placed his phone against a pillow, using it as a stand. He placed the guitar in his lap, positioning his fingers on the frets and strings of the guitar.

“Yeah, play anything. I just wanna hear you play.” You mumble, your voice coming out in a muffle against Tom’s pillow.

“Just a warning, it’s probably not that good.” He mentions, shooting you a playful look.

“I don’t care.” You smile. He starts to softly strum the opening of the Ben Platt song and you couldn’t help but smile. He looked away from the camera, trying to focus on the notes and giving you a good look at the side of his face. The light shines part of his face, leaving the features you can see dark in the shadow, though it didn’t stop you from making out his gorgeous brown eyes. His long fingers move fluidly along the strings, creating a sweet melody on the guitar.

He stumbles a bit, making him whisper “Bollocks.” The little hiccup didn’t stop him from playing and so he continued to strum the guitar. You decided to stay quiet, letting him be in the zone. He messes up again, this time saying “bollocks” louder than the first time. You see him slightly shake his head as he regains his focus and places his fingers on the proper strings again.

You fondly watch him as he play, admiring the man you call your boyfriend. His fingers twitch on the string causing him to pause. He sucks his teeth, a bit of a frustrated grin on his face.

“Mmm.” He looks at you before turning away, “Okay.” He plays again, brows furrowed together in concentration as he tries to play the part of the song his keeps messing up on. You couldn’t contain the giggle that came out of you when he cringed at the sound the guitar made when he tried to play past the note. He pauses looking at the ceiling and tries to figure out the next notes.

“Alright, last time.”

“You’ve got it.” You encourage him. Your words give him some confidence and he shoots you a sweet smile. He readjusts the guitar in his lap, this time keeping his eyes on the strings as he plays. He strums the song again, starting off slow then slowly getting faster. Though his pacing was off by a bit, the song still sounded great nonetheless. You were thoroughly impressed.

He stops playing sitting back against the headboard, “I don’t know why I speed up though. I don’t know why I decide to do it so quickly.” He says into the camera.

You laugh, “It still sounds great though, I really enjoyed it.”

Tom tilts his head at you, teasingly squinting at the camera, “Even with the amount of times I kept stopping?”

“Yes, even with the amount of times you kept stopping.” You laugh, adjusting your phone. Tom puts the guitar aside and grabs his phone. He lays back on his bed, his head resting on his pillow and his curls sprawling out on the cushiony white surface. One of his hands rest behind his head as he stares at you.

“I’m gonna keep practicing. So the next time I see your beautiful face I can serenade you with a song and my guitar.” He muses, a lazy grin on his features.

“That sounds like something out of a chick flick.” You snort. He shoots you a playful glare, “Shut up, you love it.”

Tom knew you were a sucker for chick flick gestures. Kissing in the rain, watching the sunset, you name it.

You sigh, scrunching up your nose, “Yeah, I do.”

“But only from you.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[scuttling]

Perfect

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 6,154 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Daddy Kink, Daddy Training, Dom/sub, Dry Humping, Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk, Oral Fixation, Subspace, Aftercare, Multiple Orgasms, Established Aaron/Sophie Summary: Two weeks after the events of 'Present,' Aaron plans another surprise—this time for Spencer and Sophie. Collection: Part 2 of 5 of Present, Perfect, Patient, Promise, Pretend series Note: This is a previously published work from A03, just moving it over to tumblr. Link to A03 or read below! Spencer is sitting at his desk working on a consultation, in his own little world, when a perfect denim-covered butt comes to rest on his case file, thighs spread in front of his face. His mouth falls open, and he looks up at Sophie. She’s grinning, cherry red lollipop in hand. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, and he looks around the bullpen, panicked, but miraculously, they’re alone.

“Food truck today, everyone’s at lunch. I was in Aaron’s office, but he had to take a call; thought I’d come say hi.” Her fingers reach out to brush over his lips. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You look really cute today, all tie-d up.” Her fingers slide down to wrap around it. “Can I kiss you?” He nods, and she bends down to press her mouth to his, humming against it. “Aaron said I could ask you to spend the night tonight. Or, all weekend, if you’re free.” She sits up properly, slides the lollipop into her mouth, sucks on it. He licks his lips, and she pulls it out, smiles. “Are you free?”

“Extremely,” he answers, and he wraps his hand around her calf, half-stands so he can have another kiss. They’re being bold, even if everyone is at lunch, but he likes it.

“I take it he said yes.” Spencer curses and pulls back, but Sophie just laughs. It’s only Aaron.

“He did. I think he likes us.”

“I know he likes us,” Aaron replies, voice low, and Spencer’s head is almost spinning with how fast they’ve turned him on. He comes to stand beside them, and Sophie looks up at him, swipes her tongue over the lollipop, and then presses it to Spencer’s mouth. He sucks it in, wraps his tongue around it, and when she pulls it out with a pop, Aaron groans. “Fuck.”

“That’s the plan,” Sophie says, cheeky, and he leans in, presses his fingers to her jaw, tilts her head up so she’s making eye contact.

“You don’t make the plans, sweet girl. I do. Do you want to know what the plan is?” She nods as best as she can, and when Aaron looks to Spencer, he nods too. “You like being dominated by me. You like having a daddy who tells you what you can and can’t do.” Spencer swallows hard, because he knew about the dominating, but he didn’t know about the daddy thing. His dick throbs. “But wouldn’t it be something if I let you have two daddies? Two daddies to order you around, to fill you up, to tease you until your pussy is so wet you make a mess of everything?”

Sophie whines, spreads her legs further apart, and Aaron drops his hand to squeeze hard at her thigh.

“If Spencer wants to learn, baby, I’m going to teach him how to be your daddy this weekend. He’s had a taste of you, but he’s going to find out just how dirty and needy my little slut really is.”

“I want to learn,” he says quickly, practically tripping over his own tongue to do so. Sophie takes a couple of shallow breaths, and he’s suddenly so aware of how thin her t-shirt is, how he can see her nipples even through her bra. How fucking perfect she is.

“He wants to learn. Does that sound good, precious girl?” She closes her eyes, wets her lips, and Aaron caresses her face.

“Yes, daddies.”

Fuck.

“Good girl. Time to get down; everyone will be coming back soon.” He puts his hands on her waist, helps her to her feet. His fingers wrap around her hand, the one with the lollipop, and he guides it to her mouth, pushes it inside. “You can come sit in my office and suck on that until you calm down. Give Spencer a hug.” She does, puts her arms around him, and he reciprocates, inhaling sharply when she presses against his erection; she steps back, looks down at it, looks up at Aaron. “It’ll have to wait, sweetheart. We don’t have time. Spencer understands.” He presses his hand to Spencer’s back, and he exhales, nods.

“I understand. It’s okay,” he tells her, and when he touches her cheek, she closes her eyes, sighs. “You go calm down. I’ll see you in a little while.” Aaron moves his hand to his arm, squeezes him, and then he leads Sophie up the stairs to his office. The rest of the team files back into the bullpen so suddenly it’s almost alarming; not even a full minute has passed. He sits back down, tips his head back, and blows out a breath.

“What’s going on with you, Reid?” Morgan asks as he and Prentiss take their seats. “You missed lunch.”

“I guess my mind is on other things,” he says offhand, and it is an incredible understatement. Aaron texts Spencer, tells him to come over at 7 and to come hungry, and he and Sophie make mushroom risotto, to be served with French bread and white wine.

He may be trying to woo him a little, since the last time he spent the night was quick and frantic and ended with pizza in bed before an equally hurried round two. He deserves some romance, if they’re going to continue this, make it more than just a thing, as Sophie calls it. He’s never been in a relationship with two people at once, never thought he would want to, and he wants to be sure he does things right.

He takes off his jacket but stays in his work clothes; no sense changing out of them when they’ll be removed soon enough. He does choose a new outfit for Sophie, though: it’s a lavender colored, transparent, lacy babydoll dress—lingerie, really—with matching panties, though he doesn’t let her wear them. He wants to see the look on Spencer’s face when he realizes she’s practically naked already.

“You’re a little bit evil,” Sophie says when he tells her to remove them, gives her his reasoning, but she takes the panties back off and tosses them at his face.

“You love me, though,” he says, setting them on the counter, and she grins, wicked, and sidles up to him for a slow, lingering kiss.

“Yeah, I do, handsome.” They kiss a little longer, and he lifts her up onto the counter so he can keep his hand on her while he stirs the risotto, knows she likes to be gently touched as much as possible before the kind of playing they’re going to do tonight. He gently trails his fingertips over her thighs, earning happy sighs, and when the doorbell rings, she looks up at him, clearly excited. It’s so cute. “Want me to get the door, or take over stirring?”

“You stir, baby. I’ll go get him.” He leans in for a kiss, and she smiles into it, pulls back looking affectionate and sweet.

He can’t wait for them to wreck her.

“Hi,” Spencer greets a little nervously when he opens the door. He’s holding a small bouquet of white flowers, still in his work clothes, too, and he looks just... perfect. “Jasmine. I remember Sophie said they were her favorite, once.” Aaron smiles, and he leans in to kiss him soft and slow.

“She’ll love them. You’re very thoughtful, Spencer. That’s how I know I can trust you with her.” His answering nod is serious, and his eyes are wide.

“Of course you can. Of course.” He ushers him in, and when he sees Sophie on the counter, leaning over to stir the risotto in her tiny little dress, he swallows audibly. She turns, and her eyes light up when they fall on the both of them.

“Hi, Spencer.” Aaron guides him over to her, bends to kiss her mouth, and then she kisses Spencer. He grabs a vase to put the flowers in while they greet each other. “Mmm, flowers?” she asks when they separate, and he touches her face while he fills the vase at the sink.

“Jasmine. He remembered they’re your favorite. Do you want to smell?” She nods, and he tips them toward her, earning a deep, happy inhale.

“God, they smell so good. Thank you.” The smile she gives Spencer is brilliant, and Aaron feels really happy. He’s only been here five minutes and it already feels like something good.

“I’ll finish dinner, sweet girl,” he says, coming to take the spoon from her with a kiss. “Can you tell Spencer daddy’s rules for tonight?” She straightens a little, her posture less relaxed, but she does wind her arms around Spencer's neck.

“Yes, daddy. First rule is no panties,” she explains, and it makes his eyes fall to her lap, his tongue flick over his lips. Aaron smirks privately. “I have to be patient while we eat dinner, and after, while we relax, but I am allowed to hump daddy’s thigh—both daddies’ thighs.”

“That’s a good rule,” he murmurs, looking a little dazed. It’s a great look on him, and Aaron absently wonders how submissive he could make him, if he’d like that, too.

“All of daddy’s rules are good rules. He’s smart and takes care of me when I’m too needy to think for myself.” That earns her a soft kiss on the nose from Aaron, and her answering smile is lovely. “I have to come on each daddy’s cock at least once. You get to decide if I’m allowed to come from something else as well.”

“We’ll talk more about that later,” he promises Spencer, who nods. He leans in for a kiss, because he looks horny and overwhelmed and adorable. “Continue please.”

“Yes, daddy. We all need to be honest about what we like and don’t like. If the thought of something makes you feel bad, you stop and tell daddy. Aaron. We won’t ever be disappointed, we promise.”

“There are some things she and I may like that you won’t, or maybe some things the two of you will like that I won’t. If we already know, we’ll tell you that.”

“I can confidently say that this is much more intense than anything I’ve done before, so I may not know,” he says, unsure. Aaron grabs potholders and takes the pan off the stove, plates their food.

“That’s absolutely fine. If something you see interests you, or you think of something, speak up. I’m happy to talk you through it. I wasn’t intense either, until I met Sophie.”

“I bring out the latent daddy in the men I like,” she says with a wink. “You still want to do this, though?” she asks, confirming. “It’s okay if this isn’t for you.”

“I think it’s for me,” he says quietly. “I know you two are.” That gets him hugs and kisses from the both of them, with Aaron wrapping his arms around him from behind and pressing his lips to his cheek. Sophie leans forward, kisses him deeply, soulfully.

“Good. You’re for us, too,” Aaron speaks into his ear with certainty. “Let’s eat, and we can talk more while we relax.”

Dinner is good, with soft laughter and affectionate looks from the both of them, at him and at each other. He’d placed the vase of jasmine on the table, and he can tell looking at it turns Sophie on; she loses her mind over sweet gestures like that.

When the table has been cleared, dishwasher humming in the background, they go into the living room to relax with another glass of wine—for Aaron and Spencer only, because Sophie had her half a glass with dinner, and that’s all she can have before play.

They sit on the couch, Aaron then Sophie then Spencer, talking about nothing in particular, and he smooths his hand up Sophie’s thigh, tries to judge how horny she is by the way she responds. Spencer is talking about biology, something Aaron can’t follow, but she is listening intently, her eyes on his face; when Aaron’s hand creeps up her leg, though, closer and closer to her bare pussy, she moans softly.

“I’m sorry, Spencer, go ahead,” she apologizes, but he’s blinking in confusion, and then he sees the hand pushing up her dress and it looks like he suddenly understands the reason for the interruption. “Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

“It’s okay, really,” he says, wetting his lips, and Aaron gets a brilliant idea.

“Why don’t you sit on his thigh and hump while he finishes his story, sweet girl? You can face him.” He looks to Spencer, to make sure that’s okay, and he nods, opens his arms for Sophie. She takes his hand, but turns back to kiss Aaron softly on the lips before sliding her knees around either side of his right thigh. Aaron takes the spot she previously occupied, so he can be closer to both of them. “Go ahead, Spencer.”

He swallows, puts his hands on Sophie’s hips over her clothes, and continues his story while she grinds against his leg, slowly at first. She remains focused, interested—he knows she enjoys being his outlet sometimes, when others won’t give him the chance—for several minutes longer than he’d expected, but at some point she gives in, releases another soft, needy moan, clutches at his arms.

“Good girl, rubbing on your daddy while he talks to you. He’s very smart, and it turns you on when a daddy talks about things you don’t understand, doesn’t it?” She shivers at the sound of his voice, humps faster.

“Yes, daddy. I have two very good, very handsome, very smart daddies, and it makes me so wet.”

“I bet it does, baby, and you aren’t wearing panties. Are you making a mess of your daddy’s thigh?”

“Yes, such a mess. I’m sorry, daddy,” she says directly to Spencer, the first time she’s addressed only him that way, and he can see in his eyes that he’s a fucking goner. He’s so into it, even if he’s nervous, even if he’s shy. He’s at least sure, now.

“That’s okay, baby,” Spencer says, tentative, like the word is new for him. “I know you’re needy. It’s okay, keep rubbing.” She pants at his words, works her hips harder.

“Yes, daddy. Do you want me to come, daddy? Or do you want me to stop myself?” He looks over at Aaron, who puts his hand on the thigh Sophie isn’t riding.

“It’s up to you. Either is good with me. And she’ll take whatever we give her, won't you, sweetheart?” She moans, nods frantically.

“Yes, I’ll take whatever my daddies give me. They decide when and where I get to come, if my pussy is empty or if there are fingers or a cock inside it.”

“Fuck,” Spencer groans, and he holds tighter to her hips. “You can come baby, come for daddy.”

“Put your thumb in her mouth,” Aaron directs, and he presses one against her lips; she moves her fingers from his arm to his hand and holds it close, sucks and humps for another ten or fifteen seconds before coming, moaning around his thumb. He watches, rapt, as she loses it, and Aaron gets it—having her come on his tongue was one thing, during intercourse another, but watching the woman they know is strong, smart, formidable, just come completely and gorgeously undone at their request to hump his thigh? It’s something else entirely.

Spencer pulls her close, kisses her deep and wet, and when he breaks the kiss he urges Aaron closer, so he can kiss her too. “Good girl, Sophie. You did so good, listening to your daddies’ commands. We’re so proud of you.” He runs his hand over the arm closest to him, is happy to see that Spencer catches on, does the same with the other side. “When our baby girl does really well for us, she likes to hear it, and she likes to feel gentle hands so she doesn’t get too fuzzy and lose herself before we’re done playing.”

“Sure, of course,” Spencer says, nodding, and he knows he’s committing it to memory. “That was perfect, Sophie. We’re so proud of you.” He smooths his hands up over her throat, and she hums happily.

“Come over here, now, sweet girl. I want to see how wet you made daddy.” She reaches for him, and Spencer gives her up—not easily, he thinks. He looks so attached to her already, and it’s incredible, to see the things he’s felt happen to himself, happen to someone else.

Spencer’s pants are gray, so the dark, wet patch on his thigh looks all that much more indecent; Spencer tips his head back, runs his hands through his hair, licks his lips, and Aaron can’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry; we have a really good relationship with our dry cleaner." After the thigh-riding thing, Spencer is probably more desperate to come than Sophie was. He never imagined himself as someone a woman would call daddy—he’s young, but more importantly not experienced, or confident, or classically, painfully handsome like Aaron, so the thought never even crossed his mind, but… It is an intoxicating, addicting feeling, one he wants to chase until they wise up and kick him out of their bed.

And learning about it all from Aaron, who is so knowledgeable, and firm, and careful with her? It’s got him so hard it’s almost embarrassing.

They’ve moved to the bedroom, and Sophie is content to watch them kiss each other, grope each other, take each other’s clothes off. He thinks they both felt a rush from watching her fall apart, can almost taste it on Aaron’s lips.

Her little, purple, see-through dress stays on, and he almost likes it better that way. For now, at least.

“What should we do next?” Aaron asks, breathless after kissing. “Do you want to fuck her? Want me to fuck her? Or should we tease her some more? With our fingers?” It’s so hard to choose, because he’s so ready to come, but he thinks he can wait, wants to see more of what they can do to her.

“Fingers,” he decides, his voice rougher than he’d anticipated, because that’s something he’s wanted to see since he ate her pussy the last time. Aaron nods, looking pleased.

“She loves to be filled up with fingers. She’s such a perfect girl, because one is enough to make her come, but she can probably take three of yours if you want her to. Isn’t that right, baby? You’re a desperate slut for your daddy’s fingers.” She is sitting on the bed, propped up with her hands behind her, and she nods, swallows.

“Yes, I'm a desperate slut for daddy’s fingers.” Spencer’s heart rate jumps at hearing her recite the words back, and again, it’s not something that ever crossed his mind, but now he needs to test it out at some point.

“Sophie likes ‘slut’ because that’s how her daddies make her feel; like she could just be bent over and fucked for days and it wouldn’t be enough,” Aaron murmurs in his ear. It makes him shiver.  “It’s a little smoother when you say, ‘a slut for daddy’ or ‘a slut for daddy’s cock’—make it possessive. She doesn’t like ‘whore.’” He presses another kiss to his lips before heading for the bed.

“Hi, daddy,” Sophie says when he reaches her, and she puts her arms around his neck, kisses him happily. “I’m getting fingers? Am I supposed to come on them?”

“Let’s ask daddy,” he says, and Spencer joins them, earns his own warm greeting and kiss.

“Hi, daddy. Am I supposed to come on the fingers?”

“Remember the rules,” Aaron reminds him gently. “She has to come on each of our cocks, and she came on your thigh. That’s three. She can do four, if you want. If we take a break in between, she can probably come six or seven times in a night, but she’ll be damn near useless the next day. That would be saved for something special.” Spencer nods, files that away. Seven orgasms. She deserves a day in bed after that. He gets tired after one.

“Uh. No, no coming on the fingers. I just want to play with you, feel how wet you are for us.” She nods seriously.

“Okay daddy, no coming. I’ll try really hard.” Her tongue peeks out, swipes over her bottom lip.

“What do you say when you’re getting close, sweetheart?” Aaron asks her, and she frowns.

“I say, ‘that's enough, daddy,’ and then you stop.”

“That’s right, because good girls don’t come unless daddy says to, and daddy said no.” He starts to feel kind of bad for denying her, but Aaron touches his face, kisses him. “This is okay. We have to tell her no sometimes. She’s good at this, I promise.”

“Okay,” he breathes, and he touches her throat, her face. “Can we take this off?” he asks of her dress, changing his mind, and Aaron smiles softly.

“You’re her daddy, you can do whatever you want.” Spencer exhales, feels like he needs to defer to Aaron because he always has, but this is different, and he knows that.

“Arms up, sweet girl,” he says, and she makes it easier for him to pull off the dress. Aaron hands him a pillow, and he lays her back on it, so her head and neck are supported. “Remember, no coming. Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Yes, daddy.” He leans up for a kiss and slides one finger inside her; she is soaking wet, and he meets no resistance at all. It’s incredibly hot. “Yes, daddy, your finger is so deep inside me.” He closes his eyes for a second, because that’s hot too.

“Yes it is, baby girl. Deep inside your achy little pussy.” She nods, flushed and eager.

“‘M achy for you, daddy.”

Aaron curls himself along her side, stroking her hair and kissing her skin, and after a minute or so of teasing her with one finger, Spencer presses in another alongside it.

“Oh, mmm.” She thrashes her head a little, and Aaron shushes her softly. “But daddy. It feels so good.”

“I know baby, but remember, you can’t come. We don’t want daddy to have to discipline you already.” She looks down at him, where he’s thrusting his fingers inside, and squeezes her eyes shut. Her chest is heaving.

“But daddy is so handsome and good, and his fingers feel good. I wanna come on them.” Aaron looks at him, and he works hard to find some resolve; he knows he can’t give in now, has to stand his ground. It’s what Aaron would do.

“No coming, baby. Listen to daddy.” She sighs, and he slows his hand, teasing a little more. “I know you’re desperate to come on daddy’s fingers, but you’ll have to wait for my cock. Can you do that?”

“Yes, I can wait, daddy. Can wait for your big cock to push inside me so deep. I can wait.” She sounds almost frantic, repeating herself, but Aaron is just soothing her gently, so it must be okay.

“Good girl, yes you can. You’re going to make your daddies proud.” She arches up when Spencer says it, reaches for Aaron’s hair, tugs it.

“I’m your good girl, daddy? Promise?” Fuck. That shouldn’t sound as good as it does. He covers her breast with his free hand, squeezes it, and very carefully adds a third finger.

“Yes, you’re my good girl, baby. Taking daddy’s fingers, waiting so patiently to come. You’re perfect, sweetheart.” She’s wet enough that his three fingers slide in and out easily, and he moans as he watches them. “Fuck, Sophie. So good, so good for daddy.”

“Look at daddy, baby girl,” Aaron coos, and Sophie hums. “Look at how good he looks with his hand between your legs. He’s incredible. Tell him.”

“So incredible, daddy. He’s such a good daddy already, makes me dumb and needy and horny. I want him.” Spencer’s so hard he feels like he could pass out. He presses his cheek to her knee, kisses her there.

“When you’re close, baby, tell me and I’ll put my cock in you. You won’t be a bad girl, I promise.” Aaron reaches out a hand, puts it in his hair, comforting him. He knows he’s going off script, but he must be doing something good. “Tell me baby, when you’re very close.”

“Yes daddy, I’ll tell you, thank you. I want it so bad.” She rocks against his hand, hard, several times taking him down to the knuckle. “Oh, daddies, please.”

“Please what, Sophie? Needy, whiny little slut for your daddies. Please what?” Aaron moans, Sophie moans, Spencer moans; she’s being called needy, but they’re all a mess at this point, and it makes him a little proud, to be honest. He’s a quick learner even when it comes to this.

“Please daddy, that’s enough, I need your dick, please.”

He carefully pulls out his fingers, pushes down one of her thighs with his wet hand, hooks the other leg over his shoulder, and slides inside, bottoming out with a groan. Sophie cries out in pleasure, grabs for him, and he fucks her and kisses her with lots of tongue.

“Yes, yes, daddy, harder,” she pants, and Aaron touches the both of them with strong hands.

“Settle, baby, it’s okay,” he murmurs, rubbing over her breasts. “Daddy will get you there, just be good for him. Almost time.”

“But I need it, daddy, I need it.” She tosses her head back, and she’s full on begging, which shouldn’t make him feel so good, but it does.

“She’s a fucking mess,” Aaron says, affectionately. “Rub her clit, okay? You can’t beat the combination of clit and tits when you need to get her off fast.” He leans in, sucks at her nipple, and Spencer rubs tight circles against her clit until she comes so loudly he fears a noise complaint. She is still shivering through it when he leans forward, puts his hands on her waist, and pumps a few times until he comes as well, his sweaty face pressed against her leg.

Now that she’s got what she’s been begging for, she’s soft and sappy again, and she pushes his hair back, touches his cheek. “I have the best daddies in the whole world,” she sighs, reaching for Aaron, too, and he huffs a laugh.

“See how she goes from desperate, horny monster to sweet baby girl in like five seconds flat? It might be intense, but it’s the best sex you’ll ever have.”

“Yeah, no I got that,” Spencer says, panting. It was, by far. His other encounters pale in comparison. “Good girl, you did perfectly for me,” he praises, switching his attention back to Sophie. Aaron still needs to come, so they need her to be present. “I filled you up, came deep inside. You liked that, baby.”

“Yes, daddy, I liked that. So big inside me. I’m full of your come.” He blows out a long breath, because even though he’s completely spent, her words hit him right in the dick.

“Is there room for daddy to come in your little pussy too? He’s been waiting for you.” Her eyes linger on his face, then turn to look at Aaron’s, and she reaches out a hand to touch his cock.

“Yes, I always have room for daddy. I always want daddy to come in me.” Aaron moves his hand to cover hers, helps her stroke him, and she bites her lip. “Do you have a plan, daddy?” Aaron gives her a dark, serious look, and he can see it makes her eyes light up with hunger again.

“I always have a plan, baby. This one involves daddy.” He kisses Spencer with a hand on the back of his neck, and it makes him melt a little. He may be one of Sophie’s daddies now, but Aaron will always have a little dominance over him, and he’s really so okay with that. “Lay back for me?” Spencer does as asked, up against the pillows, and Aaron scoots up, guides Sophie there too. “Now you climb up on daddy, hands and knees.”

“On top of daddy?” she asks, like she’s confused, and he lays her on his body, situates her arms and legs the way he wants them, so she’s hovering over him, ready to be taken from behind. “Oh, god.”

“Yes, baby, you’re going to love this. Daddy is close enough to kiss and touch, but you’ll probably just whimper and moan on top of him and rub your little clit against his cock, get it hard again. You’re such a needy slut for your daddies, even after two orgasms, aren’t you?”

“So needy for my daddies, so slutty,” she agrees, and Spencer catches her lips in a kiss, can’t help himself. He’s breathing hard.

“You’ll be a good girl for me while daddy fucks you, won’t you, baby?” he asks, and she nods seriously.

“Yes daddy, I’ll be so good, I promise.” Aaron gets behind her, plants his hands around where Spencer’s shoulders are.

“I need daddy’s help with this,” he says, but he’s looking at Spencer. He picks up one of Spencer’s hands, presses it against Sophie’s thigh so he’s pinning her up against Aaron, holding her in place. To say that's hot is an extreme understatement; he puts his other hand on the other side. “You’re allowed to come, baby girl, but if this feels like too much, what do you say?”

“I say, ‘enough, daddy,’” she murmurs, looking back at him.

“Right, sweet girl, because even when we’re playing, when you tell me it’s enough I’ll stop right away and hold you until we figure out what went wrong.”

“Yes, daddy, because you love me.” He knows that, of course, but it’s the first time love has been said aloud, and it makes him wonder if he does. If he should. How he’ll know.

“Yes baby, I love you, but even if we weren’t in love, I respect you, and I care about you, and it's the right thing to do: that’s why we stop when you say enough.” Spencer thinks maybe that was a roundabout way of easing his mind, of saying it’s okay if he doesn’t love them, yet.

He’s suddenly a little more jealous of Sophie. He kind of wants Aaron for a daddy. He has a way of always saying just the right thing. “Good girl, being fucked so hard by daddy,” Spencer murmurs, holding Sophie against Aaron while he pounds inside her. Her fingers are fisted in the sheets, but there is no pain, only pleasure as she moves her hips quickly back and forth, her breathing hard. “Perfect, beautiful girl.”

“Thank you, daddy,” she breathes, her clit sliding up and down the length of Spencer’s cock while she bucks back against Aaron’s. “Thank you daddies for helping me come, and get full of daddy’s come.”

“You’re welcome, sweet girl,” Aaron pants into her ear. She’s so fucking good at this. “Your daddies love getting you off. You’re so pretty when you beg and whine and moan.”

“So pretty,” Spencer agrees, pressing harder against her thighs, and she whimpers, her legs shaking. “Everything okay, baby?”

“Yes, I just… it feels so good. What if I need to come twice? Am I allowed?” Aaron nips at her ear, starts fucking faster.

“Yes baby, come now. Come for your daddies right now.” Spencer sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, looking dazed and a little curious, like he’s not sure that will actually work. Aaron isn’t sure either.

Sophie does come, groaning, short, surprised sounds of pleasure, rubbing against Spencer’s half-hard cock just like his thigh earlier, and yeah, that’s his perfect, obedient girl. He grins.

“Good girl.” His words are full of pride, and he pulls her hair to the side, kisses her shoulder. “We’ve been practicing that, haven’t we sweetheart? It’s only happened one other time.”

“Yes daddy,” she mumbles, head down as he fucks her. “Thank you daddy.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, baby girl. You earned that. So good for us.” He grunts, gets close—her body's obedience drives him insane—and he presses up from his hands and knees to just his knees, puts his hands on her hips and works her hard with, short, quick thrusts.

“Oh, oh, daddy, yes, please.” She arches her back, fucks against him even though their hands are stronger, doing it better. “Daddies, oh, fuck. Your baby girl is being used so good, so close to being filled up.” Her voice is weak, and high, and Spencer looks up at him like he’s worried, but he just shakes his head. She gets like this, she can handle it.

“Yes baby, you’re being used by your daddies because that’s what we do. We fuck your tight pussy and your mouth and your ass, and you just take it, baby.” Sophie moans, loud and wanton, and he’s so close to losing it, and Spencer, gorgeous, perfect Spencer, presses two long fingers into her mouth.

Aaron is careful not to make any jerky movements, and she sucks on the fingers, whines around them, and when he comes, clutching her hips tight, she moans high, loud, lets the fingers fall out of her mouth; the final sound she makes is a cry, and he can’t tell if it’s pleasure or overstimulation.

“Have you had enough?” he asks her as he grinds against her, and she shakes in their hands, comes again. Her legs have given up, and she’s flat against Spencer, who looks like he just witnessed something incredible. Aaron figures he did.

“Enough, daddy,” she sighs, and he pulls out, watches his come drip out of her and onto Spencer’s balls. It’s a visual he’s going to have to reflect on later, to see if he can plan for it again in the future.

“You did so amazing,” he coos into her ear, running his hands up and down her back. Spencer is doing the same, and though it’s clear they’re losing her, she hums at their touches. “So perfect for us. We couldn’t ask for a better girl.”

“You’re so good, baby. So good for your daddies,” Spencer murmurs, and he looks over at Aaron. “I think she needs some water. I don’t want to move her.” Aaron smiles, kisses his lips.

“That’s part of aftercare for Sophie. I’ll get her some and then I’ll tell you all about it,” he promises.

On his way back from getting the water, he gets a warm, wet washcloth from the bathroom, wipes at her pussy while Spencer presses the cup to her lips. When she’s had a few sips, looks a bit livelier, he gets her to roll over onto the bed on her back, cleans up the front of her.

“Sophie likes to be held, and gently cleaned up—sometimes she wants a bath or shower, and she’ll say that. I usually do it all, wash her body, her face, her hair. It makes her feel more human after. She’ll just sag against you and let you scrub her. It’s very cute. Then I will ask if she needs more cuddles, or food, or sleep, or something else. As you know, she’s not shy about asking for what she wants.” Spencer nods, taking it in.

“What can we do for you, baby girl?” he asks, wrapping his arm around her; her eyes are closed, and her breathing is returning to normal. She sighs.

“I want to lay between my daddies and be cuddled. Am I clean enough?”

“You have to go pee first, but yes, I think you’ll be fine until morning. Then we can all take a nice hot shower and get you soapy and fresh, and figure out our plans for tomorrow.” She smiles softly.

“I forgot we get Spencer all weekend. If I didn’t scare him off,” she adds, and Spencer pulls her close, kisses her gently, but very affectionately.

“You didn’t scare me off, needy little thing. I can see why your daddy thought you needed another one, though. You are a handful.”

“She is a handful,” Aaron agrees, leaning in to kiss them both, “and you haven’t even seen her being bratty, needing to be disciplined.” Sophie groans, tired, probably figures he’ll want that tomorrow. He’s not sure yet, honestly. “But even then, she’s pretty fucking perfect. Just like you.” When Spencer looks at him, he thinks he sees a flicker of love, but it could just be the orgasm talking. Either way, he looks forward to holding the both of them, and a night of extremely restful sleep.

[starsinmylatte]

Nightcall

Pairing: Thrawn x afab reader

Rating: Explicit (Very 18+)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: established relationship, edging, praise k!nk, very slight dom/sub undertones, interspecies relationship

Summary: Reader has had a VERY long day, and Thrawn is away from the Chimaera. Or is he?

Author's note: Hi! I'm finally starting to post fics to Tumblr again. I've been away for a bit, but I am very excited to write more. All my stuff is also on AO3 here! Any comments or reblogs are always greatly appreciated (seriously y'all leave the sweetest comments and it makes my day). Have fun reading my first ever attempt at smut and lmk if you'd like to be added to my tags <3

Today had been hell.

Thrawn had departed the Chimaera days ago to handle some business on Coruscant, and, as usual, Konstantine was using his absence as an excuse to be a massive pain in the ass. The Grand Admiral relied on you to help keep order just as much as he relied on Eli Vanto, but he was currently as busy as you were. So, the ever-glamorous job of making sure the Seventh Fleet remained in orbit mainly fell to you.

It was the fifth day Thrawn had been gone, and you were already fantasizing about throwing Konstantine out of the airlock. It would undoubtedly save the remnants of your sanity. He usually wasn’t blatantly insubordinate, but today he seemed to make an exception.

“I simply don’t understand why the Grand Admiral is insisting on holding this formation,” he exclaimed. “We should be chasing the rebels back to their base by now!”

Another headache was definitely coming on. I swear on every star in this kriffing galaxy…..

Your reply was icy and tinged with frustration, “Konstantine, if you wish to question the Grand Admiral’s tactics, you are more than welcome to discuss it with him when he comes back. Until then, we will be following the orders he left us with.”

He momentarily met your piercing stare before realizing any further arguments would be futile.

“Fine. I do believe I’m needed elsewhere,” Konstantine huffed as he departed the bridge.

For the first time in hours, the bridge was blessedly silent. You sank into a chair, rubbing your temples. Kriff, I definitely feel that headache now….

A sudden hand on your shoulder made you jump. You were so distracted that Eli might as well have materialized out of thin air.

“Hard day?” The corners of his mouth twitched as he attempted to stifle his amusement. “I heard you gave Konstantine a well-deserved earful.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Next time, it’s your turn. This is my fourth headache in the past five days.”

“Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? You’ve been working harder than anyone else on the Chimaera for days.” He lowered his voice before adding, “He should be back soon.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the news. You and Thrawn had gone to great lengths to keep your relationship secret from the crew, but Eli was too good of a friend to be kept in the dark. Besides, he would’ve noticed eventually that his two best friends were slightly more than friends.

Eli must’ve noticed the change in your expression, “Oh, you definitely need a break.”

He shoved a datapad in your hands and started pulling you to your feet, ignoring the numerous protests you gave him. “Here, take this to Thrawn’s office, leave it on his desk, and then you’re taking the rest of the day off. No arguments.”

-----------------------------

Thrawn’s office was its usual freezing temperature. Even though your uniform had layers of thick material, the chill was easily seeping through them. Shivering, you placed the datapad on the large desk in the back of the room.

You turned to leave, but a pang shot through your heart as you looked around the empty room. It was normal for you to barely see Thrawn on the days he was especially busy, but it was always different when you knew he wasn’t on the Chimaera at all. Stars, you missed him when he was gone. Just knowing he was nearby on days you couldn’t see him was so comforting. “Soon” wasn’t a good enough time frame for when he’d return.

A sudden thought crossed your mind; nothing was stopping you from spending the night in Thrawn’s quarters. It wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence for you to sleep here, and it would be comforting. Besides, with your headache, you didn’t exactly feel like walking all the way back across the ship to your room, and his private quarters were conveniently connected to his office.

You began stripping off your uniform as you walked into the room and made your way over to the bed. It was still freezing, but every layer you removed took the worries of the day with it. Soon, everything except your bra and panties sat neatly folded on the bedside table. In this moment, you weren’t an Imperial officer; you were a woman climbing into her lover’s bed for comfort after a long day.

As soon as you slid between the soft, black sheets, you instantly received the comfort you were craving. They smelled exactly like Thrawn, crisp and clean, but with a unique depth cut by the citrusy scent of his favorite tea. You could almost imagine that he was actually there beside you. A contented smile crossed your lips as you drifted off to sleep.

---------------------------------

You suddenly woke to a light caress on your cheek. In your groggy state, you didn’t fully realize what that touch meant until you leaned into it. You would have probably fallen back asleep were it not for the low, pleased murmur that followed your actions.

“Apologies, ch’eo bat in’a, I did not mean to wake you, but I was not expecting to find you here.”

Your eyes flew open in shock as you sat up and gasped, “Thrawn!”

The low light in the room illuminated the regal form sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. Thrawn’s usually unreadable expression was one of slight amusement mixed with another, softer expression. You couldn’t help but notice his beautiful azure-hued skin and luminous ruby eyes were only complemented by the dimmed light; you couldn’t help but think he was meant to be seen like this. He must’ve been tired from the constant travel, but nothing in his posture or expression gave it away.

You didn’t wait for him to speak again before reaching over to embrace him. Thrawn immediately wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you in tightly. Pressing your face into his chest, you quietly murmured, “I missed you.”

He said nothing, so you assumed he didn’t hear. You both sat contentedly for a few minutes and savored the intimacy before he moved one hand to stroke lazily down your back and the other to run through your hair. As you leaned further into his touch, he grabbed your chin and turned your head so he could press his lips to your ear.

“You are quite endearing when you’re half-asleep. It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

The praise combined with the sensation of his warm breath in your ear finally did you in; a flame began to spark to life in your core. You had missed him, and every single part of you was screaming for you to let him know just how much.

Before you could even move, Thrawn trailed his lips down to kiss your neck, and the flame in your core blossomed. You let out a quiet, breathy moan, and he immediately stopped.

Bringing his lips back to trace the shell of your ear, he rasped, “Oh? It seems you did miss me. How fortunate that I was able to return to you already in my bed.” He paused to lightly trace the outline of your bra before continuing. “And in something so pretty too. A shame that it will soon be discarded.”

You whimpered at his words as his lips renewed their brutal assault on your neck and upper chest. For what seemed like an eternity, Thrawn was content to lavish affection on the spots that provoked the greatest responses from you as his hands held you in place.

“Thrawn, please…. Touch me….” you begged, hoping desperately for him to comply.

He merely let out a dark chuckle as he chided, “Patience, ch’eo ch’itiseb, for every protest that leaves your pretty mouth, I will be sure to make you wait even longer.”

You bit back a moan at his sinful words; his eyes seemed to glow even brighter, and his smile turned feral. The look he gave you in return was simply predatory.

He continued to suck hickies into the sensitive skin at the base of your neck and around your collarbones. His tongue licked a long, torturous line up the column of your neck to kiss the area under your jaw. With every kiss, caress, and touch, the flame in your core spread throughout your entire body. He bit down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and you melted even further into his arms.

“It seems you were able to learn an adequate lesson in patience, so now we may continue. Turn around for me,” he ordered.

You turned to face the wall as he returned to his previous position at the edge of the bed. He trailed his hands up your waist and around to cup your breasts. Thrawn may have decided that you could have more of his touch, but he still refused to dip his hand under the lacy fabric of your bra. Instead, he teasingly rubbed over the material to brush against your nipples. Your head fell back to rest on his shoulder as you pushed your chest out into his hands, still desperate for more.

“How very, very eager for my touch….” His tone was still infuriatingly collected for how quickly he’d reduced you into a moaning mess, but a slight accent began to mar his words. “Ch’itses’o euhn ei.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Thrawn unfastened and discarded your bra. Finally, he wrapped his hands entirely around your breasts. The sharp contrast between the warmth of his body and the room’s icy air only intensified the pleasure as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers.

You couldn’t help but moan his name again, loudly. Thrawn’s breath hitched before he let out a low, breathy moan, “Bun vn’inen’i. Let me hear you.”

His voice had always been profoundly attractive, but hearing him murmur filthy sentiments into your ear in his native tongue made you absolutely melt. You let out another gasp and rubbed your thighs together, seeking any friction you could find, keenly aware of the desire beginning to pool between them. In your desperate search for friction, you accidentally rubbed your ass back against him and felt his growing erection.

The contact made Thrawn hiss. In one fluid motion, he flipped you around, pushed your back flat against the mattress, and leaned over you.

It was moments like this when you remembered you were in the bed of one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. Thrawn’s ruby eyes glowed with lust as he gazed down at you. His feral smile returned as he studied his prize. “Allow me to show you just how much I missed you.”

He trailed kisses from your breasts down to your inner thighs, nipping at them slightly, then stopping to look up at you as he reached your panties. “These must go,” he murmured against your thigh. Thrawn took the band in his teeth and began to tug the panties off, using his hands to remove them fully.

Finally, you laid before him completely bare, and once again, he paused to appreciate your body. “Simply beautiful,” he cooed.

Thrawn returned to kiss your inner thighs before he spread your legs further. He moved to kneel on the floor at the side of the bed and pulled your hips to the edge. You knew exactly what was coming next. “Oh….”

You barely had time to moan before he swiped an experimental finger through your core. Under any other circumstances, you’d be embarrassed that you were already so wet, but Thrawn lit a fire in you that no one else could. Now it was his turn to let out a low groan at his discovery.

He didn’t waste any more time before moving one of his long fingers to lightly trace around your entrance. The torment of his delicate touch made you rock your hips upwards, desperately begging for more contact. Without warning, he pushed two fingers deep inside you, making your walls clench hard around them. You moaned and begged for more as he began to pump them in and out of your drenched core, causing your legs to shudder in pleasure.

“Look at you, I’ve only just started using my fingers, and you’re already shaking,” Thrawn groaned.

He brought you right up to the peak of pleasure before suddenly withdrawing. You sobbed in protest as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. “Clean them off,” he commanded. Hoping that he’d finish you off if you complied, you obediently took his fingers into your mouth and sucked all your juices off of them.

Thrawn was very pleased. He moved back down between your thighs and sucked another hickey on the delicate skin before returning his attention to your core. He slowly circled your sensitive clit with a finger before licking his way up to suck on it. Once again, he continued his attention until you were at the very edge before withdrawing. Being edged once was hard, but the second time left you an absolute mess.

When Thrawn looked down on you, covered in his marks, eyes glazed over in lust and absolutely begging for completion, he lost the remnants of his control. He leaned back up to murmur, “Ch’eo ch’itiseb, how would you like me?”

“Stars, Thrawn, I don’t care. I just want you inside me now,” you moaned back at him as you reached up to help tug off his remaining clothing. After a few moments, he was also completely bare and leaning over you on the bed again.

With how desperate you felt, any time at all was too long, but your pleas and cries finally turned into more gasps and moans of pleasure as he finally lined his thick cock up with your entrance. The feeling of being so gloriously stretched and filled as he pushed in made your walls clench around him. Thrawn moaned at the sensation and began fucking you at a leisurely pace.

He leaned in to capture your lips in a burning, passionate kiss as his thrusts grew faster and your hips rose to meet them. His hands roamed your body, finding their way to pinch and tug at your nipples. You moaned into his mouth as you grew closer and closer to the high you’d been chasing all night.

Pausing between kisses, Thrawn suddenly grabbed your chin and stared into your eyes with his burning red ones before returning to kiss you hungrily. The unspoken message was clear: you were his. This new intensity, combined with his thrusts that came faster and faster, finally sent you over the edge into a shattering climax. Thrawn’s thrusts grew more and more erratic until he finished soon after you, coating your walls with his seed as he came.

As you both lay there in the afterglow, Thrawn mused, “I may have to find an excuse to be gone more often.”

Tags: @pretty-with-andorian-shingles @mittheresabosen @handbaskethell

[cherryonigiri]

S/O that thirsts over anime/game guys

reposted bc wasn’t showing up in the tags + I want to keep nsfw under the cut

@nononononojustno asked: Okay so could you write a headcanon where 2 random boys (can you pick then? I love all of boys from hq) and Ushi-kun where they walk on their gfs fangirling or thirsting over another anime/game character?And she was talking how hot he is? How they would react?👀😂 have a great day/night and dont forget to eat and get rest, love you💕

A/N: hahahahaha i laughed while writing this. FYI these are all based on legit crushes i had on anime/game characters at some point in my life - see if you’ve watched the shows i’ve watched :) ILY I PROMISE I’M DOING MY BEST TO EAT THREE MEALS A DAY AND GET ADEQUATE SLEEP MWAH. also i went overboard and added an extra boy bc why not. These are a little shorter since there were 4 characters but I hope you enjoy!

Content warning: implied nsfw for Atsumu + slight nsfw hcs for Matsukawa (both are under the cut)

PS: If anyone wants a spicy sequel/one shot for matsukawa i’m open to the idea 👀👀 let me know in my inbox!

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Ushijima definitely knows you’re into anime + games

Having visited your dorm room on multiple occasions he’s seen your extensive collection of manga, anime posters and you always seem to be playing on your switch whenever you have free time

Of course, he notices a significant portion of your collection is centered on male characters

And you’ve definitely mentioned a few games to him - Ikemen Sengoku, Code:Realize, Hakuouki (wow i’m really out here exposing myself) etc.

He doesn’t really mind though? Like - at the end of the day these are 2D men, whereas he is a very real boyfriend

At least he thinks he doesn’t mind

Recently, he notices that you seem to be on your phone a lot, and you seem to be texting the same group chat very often

He asks why and you laugh - it’s not actual text messages you’re just trying out a new otome/simulation game called Mystic Messenger. He finds the name silly but he just brushes it off he’s definitely J E A L O U S

Until one day he walks into your room while you’re calling one of your friends to freak out about that specific game

You sound kind of teary from outside the door “Oh MY GOD OH MY GOD I GOT THE GOOD ENDING WITH JUMIN!” and “[friend name] I THINK I CAN DIE HAPPY I’M MARRIED TO JUMIN HAN WHAT MORE DO I NEED IN LIFE” and “HE’S SO FREAKING ATTRACTIVE UGH I AM BLESSED”

He’s like who TF is Jumin and immediately bursts into your room looking pissed off

Poor babie is all like “you’re married?” and “if you had someone else you were interested in you should have told me.” “Who is this Jumin Han???” 🧐

Oh my god you start cackling, but you manage to tell him that NO you are not married and that Jumin Han is a fictional character from the game you’re playing

Ushijima looks confused after you explain - why would you find fictional men attractive when you’re already dating him?

Tendou almost dies laughing the next day when Ushijima tells him about what happened

Oikawa Tooru

Since practice finishes pretty late he usually goes to see you at your house at night, but tonight things wrapped up earlier - he’s excited to spend more time with you

You’ve finished up most of your homework so you’ve just been rewatching Attack on Titan since you’re super excited for the new season

You’re kinda distracted/have headphones on so you don’t hear your boyfriend knock on the front door. Your mom answers it and lets him in and he climbs the stairs

He can hear your fangirling (freaking out) over something as he walks towards your room

You jump in surprise when he opens the door, because you thought he would be a bit later but immediately release your pent up excitement

“Tooru just LOOK at him he’s such a bad ass like oh my gosh he literally has swords and he’s still running around slaying the MPs who have guns. God whenever he gets angry he looks so hot,” etc. etc.

You’re shoving your laptop in his face, showing him gifs and video of attack on titan, specifically the captain of the survey corps that you are obsessed with

Tooru gets it - for him its space, shitty alien films and astronomy. For you it’s video games and anime - or more specifically, handsome characters from said franchises

Even though he understand that it’s something you’re passionate about he still makes a whole show about whining how you’re in love with Levi Ackerman (lmao i still thirst over our favorite captain) instead of him

“y/n i’m taller than him! And more handsome! He has blood on him all the time! And he’s super annoying because he’s obsessed with cleaning.” *cue pouty Tooru*

You probably shouldn’t tell him that you are an avid follower of the levi x reader tag on tumblr

Tooru still somehow finds out you’re also reading reader insert fanfic and goes BERSERK with his pouting and whining - literally everyone and their mothers have heard his sob story about how “his darling y/n is leaving me for a short germaphobic asshole”

The rest of the team finds it hilarious - the end up pranking him by posting pictures of Levi in his school locker or texting them in the volleyball groupchat (Oikawa is Suffering™)

Makki and Mattsun get him a Levi keychain for his birthday and cackle when he chucks it violently into the nearest trash can

Miya Atsumu

Doesn’t really know you’re into anime/gaming at first

I don’t think that’s on purpose - Atsumu just has such a one track mind when it comes to volleyball and he’s always busy with practice

so he just kinda doesn’t really give all the anime merch in your room a second glance even though it’s a dead giveaway

I bet Atsumu secretly watches some superhero anime - probably shounen stuff like My Hero Academia, one punch man etc.

He probably starts to notice you’re into anime/games because you’ll play games on your phone/gaming device all the time

One day he notices you’re giggling + blushing while looking at your screen. He’s curious to he heads over to you when coach says they can have a break

Peeks over your shoulder because he wants to know what you’re playing - but instead he’s greeted by some 2D samurai guy called Harada Sanosuke asking you to marry him

“Huh, I didn’t know you were into this kinda stuff y/n” tries to sound playful but internally he is screaming / ?????? WOT I DIDN’T KNOW MY S/O WAS INTO OTOME GAMES

Atsumus pretty chill about it at first, he probably teases you a lot about playing the game but isn’t really bugged about it

“Maybe you should thirst over your boyfriend instead of a fictional character babe~”

I mean - he knows he’s attractive and why be jealous? You only really play the game when he’s busy and you don’t really let the game play seep into your dates/hangouts

But one time he walks in on you reading some ~spicy~ hakuouki x reader fanfic and he’s like are u serious

Like you were lowkey quiet screaming to yourself and muttering “omg omg omg” when he walked in and you definitely tried to close your laptop so he couldn’t see what was open in your browser

Too bad Atsumu has mad reflexes and manages to prevent you from making your computer go to sleep

Briefly skims whatever it was that you were reading and smirks at you

“Hey, if you really want something like this, why don’t you let your real boyfriend deliver” before kissing you

Matsukawa Issei

Look, Issei just wants a chill movie/tv show night where the two of you can bundle up on the couch and binge whatever anime you feel like

Has everything set up - this man is ready to go: snacks? he has all of your favorites, couch? filled with soft pillows + multiple pillows. Attire? Comfy sweatpants shirtless 🥵

Last time he chose the series for your binge sleepover so he let you choose what the two of you were gonna watch this time

Turns out you decided to watch Psycho-Pass - it seemed like a pretty cool show, he was down with the whole dystopia/psychological concept

Starts out pretty normal, is appreciating the action + mystery elements and is glad that you chose that show

About halfway through the anime you two decide to take a break - he goes to the kitchen to refill your snacks, leaving to stretch you back.

When he comes back with more food, he notices that you’re hunched over your phone, typing something

He sneaks up behind you after he puts the food down, “Whatcha reading there babe?” You squeak and try to hide your phone, but not before he sees the words kougami x reader typed into your tumblr search bar

Lit-rally exCuSE me what - he’s not mad (more amused than anything else) but he also kind wants to tease you (bc Mattsun is a little shit)

“Is that the reason you wanted to watch this show?” he asks playfully. “He’s pretty hot tho, I kinda agree with you there babe.”

Now that he’s released the floodgate, he can’t stop your occasional comments like “omg how does he look so GOOD when he’s punching someone” or “he could shoot me with his dominator and i’d still say thank you”

The thirst comments are kinda getting to him, so he decides to take things in a different direction

“Let me what I can show you with my dominator~” L M A O I’M SORRY THIS EXISTS

Suddenly you’re being pulled onto his lap, and pressed against his bare chest, Issei barely gives you time to adjust before he’s kissing you roughly, tongue plunging into your mouth

His hands wrap around your hips pressing your core closer to his own, and you can feel his hard-on pressing into your stomach

He’ll be sure to suck a dark hickey onto the side of your neck and his hands travel under your shirt, just to remind you who your real boyfriend is

Needless to say, you won’t remember a single thing about the second half of the show after the night is over couch sex? Couch sex 😏

[buckys-other-punk]

Hold on..THIS IS YOU?!

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Request: where she is a fanfic writer and Sebastian stumbles upon her blog and messaged her as well not letting her know who he was but being an open person she is as to who she was, sending pictures and all, and until one day, decides to meet with her and she is surprised that it was the one she was writing for?

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: fluff, sarcasm (of course) and cussing? i think that’s all

A/N: Hello my lovelies. I am sorry I haven’t been posting as much, but that’s usually how I roll..no jk I legit had no time to write because of my classes this semester, so if this sucks I’m sorry lol. I’m still trying to get back into my writing groove...Also don’t mind my minor mistakes 😅

A/N 2: Anyways I AM BACK AND this is my first request ever!! I’m so excited to write this, I am soo sorry this took forever, but hope I did your request justice and that you like it (and so do others). I feel like I wrote this kinda cheesy, but whatever.

[Y/B/N = your blog name]

As always lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my future works and feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! <3

Just another normal day without stress and a less anxiety filled world...no, today was actually awful. You were swamped with work and your best friend was complaining about her boyfriend. Let’s just say that the stress she was having with him was making you feel happy that you were single. Trying to relax you heated up some coffee (a/n: or tea) and sat on the couch of your small apartment. Grabbing your laptop you wanted to unwind reading. Probably some fanfics on Tumblr usually does the trick. 

After reading some pretty good marvel related fics by your mutuals, you got inspired to write some fics yourself. Opening up a new tab you began writing about your favorite actor, Sebastian Stan. That man literally makes your miserable day a little better. Sadly, like all the girls and women who fantasize over him, he doesn’t know you. But, whatever right? You can always use your imagination and conjure up a make believe world where the two of you are happily engaged and have a German Shepard puppy named Stitch. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you opened another tab on your laptop to pull up your writing playlist, you began typing away on your keyboard writing a new AU where you’re the celebrity of the world you were creating and he was a huge fan of you. After you finished your new fic, you posted that immediately without edits because you were so excited to see people read it.

*across town*

“Have you guys ever read any fanfiction about your characters or yourselves?” the interviewer asked the pair.

“You know I’ve seen a few that were quite impressive. These writers are damn creative.” Anthony replied with a smile. “I will also not lie. I’ve read a few steamy ones and y’all are dirty.” he added with a slight disgusted face shaking his head towards the camera.

“What about you Sebastian? Have you read any?” the interviewer lady asked, looking over to the man.

“Honestly. I haven’t.” Sebastian chuckled looking back at her. “Maybe, if Mackie here finds a good one about me I’ll give it a read.” shrugging towards his friend.

“Oh man, I got a few that are worth reading.” Mackie laughed, rubbing his hands together.

“Hey, might as well share them with the world. Let’s give that writer a shout out!” she exclaimed, placing her notecards on her lap.

“Well, like I’ve said I’ve only read a bit, but I do have some blogs that I’ve saved. Maybe next time I’ll name drop a few and give fans some well deserved praise.” Anthony smiled looking at the two.

“Alright, well you better have a huge list for me.” the lady said with a smile looking at Anthony. “Thank you both again for your time. For everyone watching Falcon and the Winter Soldier comes out in March 2021.” She finished off the interview smiling and waving at the camera and the two men followed her actions as well. Once the cameras and mics were turned off the lady came back to the two men.

“Thank you again guys for your time” the lady said to the pair shaking their hands (a/n: ok let's pretend there is no corona in this world so yeah. Everyone is healthy and so is the world!). The two replied with a simple you’re welcome and another thanks in return.

“Wait, have you really read fanfiction before?” Sebastian asked his co-star as the pair walked towards their manager, who was waiting for them outside the room, getting their schedule for the pair’s next interview.

“I mean yeah. I got curious on what people were writing about us and our characters.” Anthony responded with a shrug looking down at his phone.

“Aren’t most of those like fifty shades of grey?” Sebastian asked, staring at his friend as stood near their manager.

“Only if you want them to be..” Mackie stared at his friend with a blank face as they came to an abrupt stop. “Nah man, I’m just playing. Some of them are steamy, others can be sad, like crazy sad and some are like tooth rotting cute. Like I recently read one that was with Captain America and this original character that the author came up with and it made me say ‘aww’ when I finished it. Me. A grown man said ‘aww’ after reading a fanfic. A FANFIC!” he added. Their manager quickly explained their schedule and walked them over to their car to head off to the next location. The two were seated at the back, while their manager sat next to the driver.

“You know what. Send me that story you read.” Sebastian said to Anthony.

“Are you sure Seb?” Anthony asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, why not.” he replied with a shrug. “Might as well read a good story before our next interview.”

“Alright let me send it to you right now. Honestly I think this writer is one of my favorites. I don’t know if it's her writing style or how she portrays our characters, but she’s amazing.” Mackie said with a smile getting the fic he recently read and sending it to his friend. 

“So all her stories are good?” Sebastian asked, looking at the notification.

“I just said that she is my favorite writer.” Anthony looked at his friend with a ‘are you serious face.’ 

“Okay. Okay.” Seb said with his arms up in defense. After a few minutes of reading the fanfic Sebastian actually said ‘aww’ aloud just like Mackie after he first read the story.

“It was good wasn’t it.” Anthony asked with a toothy grin.

“Yeah this was really good. Y/B/N is a pretty good writer.” Sebastian said looking through your feed.

“You should tell her!” Anthony exclaimed.

“What, like make an account?” Seb asked.

“Well yeah, but I mean not your actual name of course. Make a fan account. Show these writers your appreciation, I know that if I were an author I would love that (a/n: wink wink). I’ve messaged a few writers complimenting their work without actually telling them who I am.” Anthony said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna read more stuff from her before I message her.” Sebastian chuckled. Sebastian clicked onto your main blog page to find that you had just posted a new fic about him. “Wait, dude she just posted a new story...About me!” Sebastian exclaimed, showing his phone to Anthony. 

“Nice, but we have to finish these interviews. You gotta read it during your free time man, sorry to crush your dreams.” he chuckled, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. Sebastian sighed and followed his co-stars actions getting out of the car and continuing the rest of his day filled with interviews.

*later that evening*

After the interviews Anthony and Sebastian had dinner together at a fancy restaurant. During their dinner they talked about how crazy some interviews were. Sebastian brought up the subject of how Mackie publicly announced that he had read fanfiction. With that still stuck in his mind the two finished their meal and after parting ways. Sebastian took a cab and arrived at his apartment, changed out of his fancy suit to some comfy clothes and grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge. He walked over to his couch turning on the tv, not really paying attention to what was playing, grabbing his phone he opened the tumblr app finally creating an account.

*one week later*

Sebastian has read almost all of your works and texting Anthony almost every time after he has finished a new fic giving his reactions to each. He has liked and reblogged everything he has read from you and other writers, but he favors your stuff the most.

Mackie: dude you should tell her you like her stuff and stop texting me!

Seb: Alright I will, I just don't know what to say.

Mackie: Just say you like her work. It's as simple as that.

Seb: okay okay I will

Mackie: ok good, no stop texting my its legit 2 am

Seb: fine

Sebastian opened up the messaging area of the app and began typing away his appreciation to you. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous after he pressed send. Getting out of the app completely he tried to focus on whatever was playing on the tv. Then all of a sudden he heard a notification go off and his phone light up. Looking down on it he saw that it was a notification from you. Again his nervousness took place as he unlocked his phone to read the notification. The app opened and the direct message filled his phone screen.

(a/n: this is my first time using a fake dm thingy so just imagine that Seb is following you)

Seb: Holy shit dude, she actually replied back to me!

Mackie: Well of course she did, she's not a robot. But maybe she is since she’s up so late...

Seb: shut up and why are you still up? I though you were mad at me for texting you

Mackie: well you woke me up so what am i supposed to do

Seb: whatever I’ll let you go

Mackie: alright. bye lover boy 

Sebastian shook his head at the text, he went back to the app to reply back to you. “What should I say?” he said to himself. “Maybe she’s in a different time zone or lives across the world or something… Okay okay. Maybe be chill and say I hope i didn’t wake you? No that sounds weird.” he shook his head trying to come up with something to say. Eventually he fell asleep trying to think of what to say to you.

*the next morning/later that day*

Sebastian woke up with his phone gone from his hand. He quickly got out of his bed in panic to look for it. Maybe you had said something to him or he had said something dumb to you. Once he found his phone he quickly unlocked it to check and thank god he didn’t say anything stupid. But he didn’t say anything. He shook his head clearing his thoughts. “Alright I think I know what to say.”

Y/N’s POV

You woke up to the sound of cars honking, groaning you looked at your clock. “How is it already 10 am?” you said aloud to nobody in particular. You sat up on your bed and grabbed your phone scrolling through various social media apps. At the top of your screen you saw a notification from tumblr. Opening the app to the notifications section, you noticed it was a blog that had messaged you from earlier in the morning.

sebstan_fan: Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Carter. I don’t know where you live, but I just woke up and had a dream about one of your fics. (wow I hope that didn’t sound creepy)

You smiled at the message, since you loved interacting with your followers.

y/b/n: haha its ok. I actually live near New York City and I also woke up. What was your dream about? (if i can ask)

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian had just finished taking a shower and began preparing his late breakfast. “Holy shit she replied again!” he said to himself looking at the message.

sebstan_fan: Wait, you live near NYC! Me too! Wow such a small world. But anyways my dream was honestly just a reenactment of your fic.

y/b/n: that’s so crazy how we live near each other lol. But that's so cool how you dreamt about my work. You must have really liked it.

sebstan_fan: yeah it was really interesting how you wrote such a life like scenario.

y/b/n: thank you Carter <3

sebstan_fan: ok I now this is random, but what’s your favorite place to eat in New York?

y/b/n: ooh that’s tough. Let’s go with Lombardi’s since its the very first pizza place to open in the US

sebstan_fan: oh wow an excellent choice :)

*a couple weeks later*

You and your new tumblr friend have been talking about one another’s favorite hobbies and interests for the past few weeks. You feel like you have grown a new connection with your new friend and telling them about your shitty days at work. Today your best friend wanted to bring you with her and her boyfriend to some fancy restaurant. 

y/b/n: Carter, I’m practically third wheeling with her and her boyfriend. 

sebstan_fan: well that sounds awful. Where is she taking you?

y/b/n: idk to some fancy restaurant I’ve never heard of. Anyways she’s making me wear fancy clothes, but I just wanna wear my pajamas!

sebstan_fan: y/n come on. you gotta dress nice if other people are dressing nice too 

y/b/n: ughh ok I think I found something nice. *sends picture of yourself in an elegant dress* what about this?

Seb’s POV

Sebastian got a glass of water and sat back down on his couch. Unlocking his phone to see the new dm from you he spit his water out of his mouth wetting the coffee table in front of him. “HOLY SHIT SHE’S GORGEOUS!” he yelled aloud staring at his phone in awe of your beauty.

sebstan_fan: Y/N, you look amazing! That dress is literally making you glow!

y/b/n: stop you’re making me blush..my friend just pulled up. I’ll dm you later once this stupid night is over. 

sebstan_fan: alright have fun 

y/b/n: <3

Sebastian quickly called Mackie to tell him that you sent him a photo of yourself. 

“Dude, she is unbelievably gorgeous. I actually spit my water out all over my coffee table when I saw the picture. ” Sebastian said on the phone.

“Man you are so obsessed with her, it's kinda creepy.” Anthony replied through the phone.

“What? No man, we just clicked. We have a bunch in common and she’s really easy to talk to.” Sebastian gushed to his friend.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that you’re lying to her about your real identity. You’re like fucking Superman with a secret persona!” Anthony snickered at the man on the other line.

“Dude no, but I’ll tell her eventually that I’m me.” Seb replied back to Anthony.

“Well you better do it soon because I’m tired of hearing about you gushing over this woman.” Anthony huffed under his breath. “Anyways I gotta go so bye bitch.” 

Sebastian laughed at his friend hanging up the phone and heading to his room getting ready for bed. As he laid on his bed he couldn’t take his mind off of you in that dress. You were so open with sharing your life to him, a complete stranger, yet he couldn’t do the same.

*the next day*

y/b/n: Carter! I forgot to dm you once I got home, but that dinner was terrible. I hated every minute of it.

sebstan_fan: what happened? Also good morning :)

y/b/n: good morning, sorry if I woke you. But anyways my best friend and her boyfriend brought some dude to make it a double date and the guy was a complete douche. I couldn’t stand a minute being there.

sebstan_fan: damn I’m sorry to hear that. I bet if I was there with you the night wouldn’t have been so bad haha

y/b/n: creepy..jk But I bet we would have completely ditched my friend and her boyfriend lol

sebstan_fan: wait, I got an idea! I mean since we live around the same area why don’t we meet!

y/b/n: what like in person?

sebstan_fan: no through zoom, yes in person!

y/b/n: wow the sarcasm in this one, but that sounds like a lovely idea. I feel like I already know so much about you tho...

Sebastian huffed under his breath, “not everything.”

sebstan_fan: lol yeah but it’ll be different to meet in person. Anyways where should we meet?

y/b/n: lol that’s true. Well I know this small cafe that’s so cute and I heard they have pretty good pastries. It would be awesome to meet there :D

sebstan_fan: alright how about Saturday afternoon? You don’t have work right?

y/b/n: nope I’m off! but that sounds good to me! I’m so excited and nervous at the same time. Like what if you’re some creepy stalker...

Sebstan_fan: why would you accuse me of such a thing?!

y/b/n: lol you know i’m just messing with you. But I gotta go my friend is now calling me, probably about that douche from last night...but I can’t wait to see you Carter!<3

“Yeah, me too.” Sebastian said to himself smiling.

*Saturday*

You sat at the cafe where you told your new tumblr friend to meet you. You ordered a drink and once it was finished, you grabbed it and sat near the windows saving a seat for Carter. As you waited you pulled out your laptop and began on typing away a new fic idea drawing inspiration from the small cafe and the gloomy weather outside. 

“I’m sorry that seat’s taken...” you muttered to a man who pulled out the chain next to you, looking up at the figure. “Holy shit!” you exclaimed to the man who sat next to you.

“Shhhh...Please don’t say anything.” Sebastian whispered to you, sitting on the chair next to you and taking off his sunglasses.

“What? But how? You’re!? I can’t breathe.” you exclaimed erratically looking down at your drink.

“Hey, hey Y/N, just calm down and take slow deep breaths.” he said calmly placing his hand on your back.

“How the fuck do you know my name?!” you exclaimed again staring wide eyed at the actor. “Am I getting pranked or something? Where are the cameras?!” you nervously laughed looking around the empty cafe.

“No, you’re not getting pranked. It’s me Carter…” he said quietly rubbing the back of his head.

“You’re Carter?! I thought you were a girl!” you said looking into the man’s blue eyes.

“I may have lied about who I was, but I wanted to meet you.” he started as he stared down at the ground. “I didn’t want you to freak out knowing that it was actually me.” he said looking back up at you.

“Let me just gather my thoughts for a sec.” you said, putting your hand to your temples.

“Wait, why did you assume I was a girl?” he asked with a smirk.

“I don’t know! Carter is a unisex name.” you frantically said with a shrug. “And I mean most of my followers are female, so I just assumed you were one too.” you added grabbing your drink and taking a sip to calm your nerves.

“That makes sense I guess.” he said chuckling, looking out the big window of the cafe.

“This is so crazy that you are here. Sitting next to me and talking about my stupid tumblr blog.” you uttered. “Like you’re famous!”

“Yeah so what.” he looked back to you. 

“I mean aren’t you busy filming and stuff?” you asked the man.

“Nope, we just wrapped up the interviews a couple of weeks ago. I’m on vacation.” he said with a toothy grin, which made you blush. “Aww look she’s blushing.” he said sweetly towards you.

“Shut up. It’s not like I get to meet my favorite actor who I’ve had a crush on since forever sitting next to me and casually conversing with.” you muttered quickly hoping he didn’t hear your profession of love for him.

“You got a crush on me?” he smiled at you.

“Fuck you. I do not!” you exclaimed looking away from him.

“Aww I think you do.” he said, nudging your shoulder.

“Whatever.” you said under your breath trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Hey, I’m in awe too.” he began, which made you look at him. “It’s not like I get to see a beautiful woman who I like.” he smirked at you.

“I think I’m dreaming. Did you just say you like me?!” you asked pinching yourself back into reality.

“I mean yeah. I really like your work as a writer and the past what month we’ve been talking I think you’re a really cool and sweet person.” he said now blushing. 

“I bet you say that to all the women you meet.” scoffing at his comment.

“No I’m serious Y/N. I think you’re a really talented writer. And I think you’re also really pretty.” again blushing, but this time he looked straight at you.

“Oh, wow. Thank you so much Sebastian.” you hesitated, your cheeks heating up. “That means a lot coming from you.” you smiled.

“Of course. And also I wanted to ask you in person if after coming clear about who I actually am, if you wanted to go out sometime. I know its weird and all sudden but-”

“Yes!” you exclaimed quickly cutting him off. “I mean. I would love to.” you said more calmly. “God, I’m trying so hard to keep my inner fangirl in.” you huffed under your breath. 

Sebastian laughed at your comment and then asked, “Alright then. What about tomorrow I take you out for dinner?” 

“That sounds delightful.” you smiled at the man. The two of you fell silent watching the people who passed by the small cafe.

“Oh, but can I ask you one more question? Why are you wearing a hat? And shades earlier? It's legit rainy and cloudy as hell outside.” you asked, looking at the man with your head resting on your hand.

“I’m going incognito. I don’t want my fans to recognize me.” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Are you embarrassed of them seeing you with me?” you hesitantly interrogated.

“No, I just don't want them to interrupt our first date.” he responded with a smirk looking at you.

“Wait, this is a date?!” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

“Only if you want it to be sweetheart.” Sebastian smirked, winking towards you.

“Fuck you.” You said with a smile.

A/N: Yay you finished! Was that good? bad? cheesy? lemme know lol Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up! Thank you guys for reading and I hope you get excited for more stuff to come.

Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @sebtheromanianprince​ @aquabrie @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan​ @princess76179​ @anbrax5553​ @wintersoldierissucharide @caplanbuckybarnes​ @miraclesoflove​ @kitkatd7 @msgreenverse @saiyanprincessswanie​ @fandomsandxfiles @hailmary-yramliah @coffeebooksandfandom​ @thefallenbibliophilequote

^please lemme know if you wanna be added to future works or removed for tags^

[kaysayshey]

lunch break || s. aizawa

Kay's Notes: Hey, y'all. I think this might be my first time ever posting my writing on Tumblr, so bare with me. I've been using mobile exclusively, and let's just say that my theme is going to be a work in progress. If there is anything you as a reader would like me to change in either tagging or formatting, please let me know! I'm always open to comments, suggestions, critiques, whatever. This work is edited from an OC x Aizawa fanfic that I am working on. I'll be writing more reader insert type works in the upcoming months, as I now have an embarrassingly long list of them.

Summary: Aizawa and Y/N decided to meet up for lunch. That sounds simple enough, right? Ha, wrong. Lunch for two turns into lunch for one.

Warnings: AFAB reader, NSFW, minors DNI. Non-established relationship, oral (f! receiving), praise, slightly insecure reader near the end. Reader is a hero and has a quirk, but it is not defined.

The hellions were too much. Administering the written portion of the final exam had Shouta questioning his choice in career path, if he was being frank. How some of his students had passed the entrance examinations was beyond him at this point, and the thought of grading them sent a chill through his body despite the day's heat.

Despite the impending horror that was Kaminari Denki's handwriting and subsequent answers, Aizawa had a small smile on his face as he made his way to Y/N's apartment. Their last encounter had him yearning for more, anything to learn more about the angel that had graced his presence.

How could he even describe it? She had been nothing like his expectations, instead defying them one by one. Snarky in the best ways, quick-witted enough to leave him holding back chortles. Powerful enough to keep almost any other hero on their toes. Gorgeous, too gorgeous. And she had admitted feelings to him? What was there left to say? He felt honored to be attempting, well, whatever it was they were calling their relationship. Kisses and lingering touches be damned.

"Meet me for lunch after the finals? I'd be more than happy to cook for you at my place."

And meet Y/N for lunch he would.

She had left her door unlocked, obviously expecting him. But when Shouta made his way through the foyer of her apartment, Y/N was nowhere to be seen. Not in the living room, not in the kitchen. What happened to lunch?

“Oh, Shouta…”

There was no chance in hell. He had to keep every muscle in his body taut so as not to sprint to her bedroom, the stiffening of his member almost instant. It took all of his willpower to casually make his way to her room, the door wide open.

That little minx. She was laid out on her bed completely bare, hair splayed beautifully beneath her. Her back arched as she rubbed slow circles over her clit, slick all the way down to her mid-thigh. Another breathy gasp escaped her; her eyes squeezed shut as she moaned out his name once more.

He couldn’t help himself from slowly making his way to the edge of her bed, unraveling his capture weapon as he walked. “Kitten, is this all for me?”

Y/N's eyes shot open immediately. Those incredible breasts were on display for him, finally. Her thighs clenched together over her hand, blocking him from viewing anymore of her dripping folds.

“I – I thought you’d be later,” she gasped, snaking her free arm over her chest.

“I’m glad I’m not.” The words came out in a murmur as he pulled his top off in one fluid motion, dark eyes taking in every inch of her form. Achingly slowly, he kneeled onto the bed, one hand creeping up her side, relishing in the soft skin beneath his fingertips. He moved to grasp her chin in his hands, forcing her to meet his lust-blown gaze. He gently pressed a kiss to her lips, sighing when she responded so eagerly.

“Who knew I’d be having you for lunch, angel?” At his question, Y/N moaned, the very phrase sending goosebumps all over her body. The slightest heave of her breathing sent her chest up closer to him, and God be damned if he wasn’t desperate to pull every part of it between his lips.

“Sho-Shouta, please,” she stammered, her head rolling to one side of the pillow. He took that as an invitation to press his lips to her neck, nipping lightly at her skin, groaning at the sound of her voice. God, this was too much. He was suckling at her skin like a man starved, ravenous for her crying out for him. But he knew better than to push too far. He’d make her beg for it. Not just today, but for as long as he could get away with it. Until she couldn’t go a single day without pleading for him to fill her completely, to give in to her wanton need for them to become one.

“Easy, kitten. I’ll take care of you.” Shouta’s voice was low and gravelly as he moved further down her skin, lips endlessly exploring every part of her flesh. He stopped at her collarbone; another suckle that had her bucking her hips, leaving a lovely bruise in his wake. To her sternum, lazily licking between her breasts. Y/N heaved a sigh, running a hand through his hair and subsequently whining when he wouldn’t move. A soft tug to his locks made him smirk, eyes flashing up, mesmerized by the expression on her face. Her eyes were half-lidded and those pouty lips were plump and parted. He could only imagine how it would feel to watch as her lips wrapped around his cock, to have those beautiful eyes staring up at him from where she was settled on her knees.

Finally, he allowed himself to wrap his lips around one perky nipple, giving it a quick suck before leisurely stroking it with his tongue. Shouta slid a hand down to gently push her thighs apart, anxious to feel her heat for himself. God, she was overwhelmingly wet. How could he keep himself from smiling when he knew he was turning her on so well? As he languidly continued to work his tongue around her breast, he inched a finger to her folds, chuckling softly when she arched at the touch.

“You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” Shouta whispered the words, pleased when she gasped out as he rubbed a soft circle over her clit, the lightest touch to keep her on edge.

“Ba-baby, please,” she groaned, releasing her vice-like grip on his hair when he moved from her side to kneel at the edge of the bed. It was followed by a squeak as he pulled her by the hips to meet him, keeping her thighs spread for him to enjoy. The hums she emitted were low, interrupted by soft whispers, his name a prayer between her lips. But in Shouta’s eyes, her body was a temple, and he was here to worship it, eager to finally have a taste of heaven.

His tempo was torture, agonizingly slow. The up and down of his thumb over her clit kept her rolling her hips, wordlessly begging him for more.

And when she looked down, the smirk he gave her was brash, an arrogance she would never have expected to see on Shouta’s usually stoic face. But the moment he gave her one long, achingly slow lick from her entrance to her clit, she learned why he was so cocky. He knew that he was going to leave her breathless. He repeated the movement for what felt like forever, leaving Y/N running her hands through his hair once more. Those easy strokes evolved into Shouta focusing his attention to her clit, lapping at it greedily.

Shouta couldn’t get enough of her. The taste of her, the feeling of her hands keeping him exactly where she wanted him. The way she would moan out softly, following it up with a whine when his licks turned into soft sucks. He fervently slipped a finger inside of her, curving it as he slowly pumped.

“More, more, please.” Her mewls were desperate, and he chuckled against her folds, obliging her. The movements were deliberate, his pace steady as he continued to thrust into her, reaching the spot that made her groan. Looking up again, he was mesmerized by the carnal desire in her eyes, by the way she deliciously rolled her hips against him. And as much as he yearned to just take her then and there, Shouta kept his focus on her pleasure. He gradually increased the pace of his thrusts, continuing to suck on her swollen nub.

Her walls started clenching, and Y/N’s breathing grew more labored with every minute.

“Shouta, wait, I'm going to -” Her words were strangled in her throat, and he had no problem ignoring them. He wouldn’t wait. Not when she was writhing from his touch, from the way he devoured her. No, he wouldn’t stop, not when she was on the edge. This was what he had been aching for. Shouta added a third slender finger into her folds, groaning as she started to flutter around him. Her hands were gripping the bed sheets like she was afraid they’d fly away, and the movement of her hips was erratic.

He held one of her thighs down with his free hand and thrust into her furiously, knowing just how close she was.

“Oh my God, Shouta, I -”

“Come for me, angel.”

Her walls spasmed around his fingers, and those luscious hips lifted off of the bed, furiously writhing against his hand. Y/N’s moans were the most beautiful music he had ever heard. Shouta watched in awe as she came, keeping his pace consistent until she begged, pleaded for him to slow down, no more, please, Shouta.

Y/N shuddered on the bed, her legs finally closing together when Shouta laid himself next to her, gingerly running his hands through her hair. Gentle kisses against her cheeks, her neck, her forehead. God, she was sacred in his eyes. Those brilliant eyes fluttered open, and a radiant smile graced her lips.

“You’re absolutely divine, Y/N,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist. Her skin was damp to the touch, but he wanted to feel it all the same.

“You can’t say things like that, Shouta. A girl just might believe it.” The words were light, but they held a hint of sorrow behind them. As if she didn’t think he’d ever mean it. He took her chin in one of his hands once more, begging her to meet his eyes. And she did, albeit it begrudgingly.

“Y/N, you are an angel on Earth, and I will make you believe it, whether you like it or not.” A devoted kiss to her lips. He’d remind her every single day until it was ingrained in her – she was incredible.

[honeygingergemini]

Now I'm thirsty for your writing! Can you write one where reader or steve wants to make a sex tape? Thank you😘😘

Hello my dear :) Thank you for being patient with me. I had writers block and just thought everything I was writing sucked so I kept deleting it and starting over. I hope you like it @donutloverxo

p.s. I was today years old when I found out tumblr doesn’t send you a notification when someone answers your ask (I’ve only ever asked on anon bc my main blog is something different so let me know if I am wrong lol) I tagged you just incase <3 IGNORE TYPOS :)

pairing: Steve rogers x fem!reader 

word count: 2.4k 

warnings: camera sex, dirty talk, oral male receiving mentions of face fucking (light), unprotected sex, cream pies and descriptions of it, light spanking, and praise kink for stevie :) 

On Camera

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. My heart is racing and we haven’t even done anything but set up the camera. We’ve only been dating for five months and four days, so imagine the graveling I had to do to get America’s golden boy to agree to fuck me on camera. I begged Steve for so long and now I'm the shy one. We’re supposed to be making a sex tape yet we are on opposite ends of the bed. 

Steve’s bare back is against the headboard while his long legs are spread out before him. He keeps looking everywhere but the camera. His eyes bounce from the walls to the sofa in the corner of the room but once he looks at me, he looks at the camera and he retreats further into his shell. His hand keeps running over his shorts and now I'm starting to feel bad. 

He agreed to this for me but I know he’s nervous. Maybe he doesn’t want to actually do this? Maybe I don’t want to do this? 

Nothing will happen if I get up and turn the camera off now, nothing will happen except me being deathly embarrassed. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I know I want this, I thought about it for a long time before and after bringing it up to Steve. It was my bright idea and now I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs like a dummy. 

You’ve had sex with Steve countless times, this is no different don’t let the camera scare you. Just relax, he’s your boyfriend, the one you’ve slept with numerous times. Just kiss him. 

I take a deep breath looking at Steve whose skin is slightly flushed. I lean over to his side of the bed and reach for him taking in his warmth. His skin is damp with a light coating of sweat. Steve’s eyes shoot over to mine with the unexpected contact. 

“Hi.” I smile at Steve hoping to relax him. As well as myself. 

“Hi.” He looks at me but then quickly looks at the camera. I follow suit doing the same.

We need a distraction from the boxed recording device. I lean over more to capture Steve’s lips in a demure kiss. I kiss him slowly trying to memorize every detail of his mouth. My tongue rolls over his teeth before dipping further into his mouth pulling a deep groan from him, but after his groan he tense and pulls away. 

“You okay?” I ask. 

“Yeah... i’m still not...” comfortable. he didn’t have to say it for me to know what he meant. I lift my body over his straddling him as I trace my fingers over his body knowing the simple act calms him. It works because this time Steve initiates the kiss. It’s more firm than the last but pleasing just the same. Our tongues waltz in a sinful manner pulling soft calls from me. Forced breaths exit my nostrils as I grind my hips slowly into his. His large hands grip my hips and he pulls me down harder. 

“Uh Steve.” I moan out. “More please.” He’s now attacking my neck leaving open mouth kisses across my jugular. His hips push up to meet mine once then twice then it’s a repeated action that leaves me breathless. 

His eyes snap open to meet mine but instead they meet the camera and his arms drop to his side. Deep sighs are released from the both of us 

“I’m sorry princess... I'm just trying to get used to this.” I know he’s turned on right now. I can feel how turned on he is. 

“Do you want to stop?” He looks at me but doesn’t answer. I peck his lips quickly before removing myself from his thighs. My fingers are at the rim of his shorts very close to pulling them down before Steve sits up to stop me. 

“What are you doing?” it comes out mumbled together almost as one complete word. 

“Let me help you relax.'' I push his chest back down softly and continue my plan. I pull his shorts down just enough to free his erection. It bounces back and hits Steve's stomach. I take him into my hands and slowly stroke him. I bend over Steve's thigh  arching my back while bringing my spit slick lips to his tip and leave a wet kiss. Steve shudders whispering profanity under his breath. My tongue joins the fun, slipping out to run around the tip in slow semi circles. I continue my teasing until Steve's hips jut forward and his hand is on the base of my neck. 

“Suck it right.” He grunts voice hoarse “Stop playing with me.” 

“Yes sir.” The last words I say before I take him fully into my mouth. I push down until my nose is met by the coarse curls of his base. One of my hands grip Steve’s thigh while the other is holding on to the side of his abdomen subconsciously giving the camera a perfect view. Steve's grip on my neck is unwavering; he's holding my head down. 

“Fuck... breathe through your nose doll.” He grunts with a rasp I’ve never heard from him before. I take in sloppy breaths trying to calm down. “You gonna let me fuck your face? hmm princess?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer; he begins pushing his hips up into me slowly speeding up with each thrust until he’s assaulting the back of my throat. The action pulls strangled noises from me. My sounds only serve as encouragement for Steve. I think he’s completely forgotten about the camera. 

Steve juts his hips in a way that knocks the wind out of me. I gag around him getting a deep groan in return. 

“F-fuck princess.” His hand finds your ass with conviction. Steve suddenly becomes fixated on your bottom. His burly hands run from your ass and down your thighs repeatedly. I wiggle my lower half as a silent plea for him to spank you again and he complies. 

“You like it when Captain spanks you?” Slap. “You like the pain?” Slap. “I asked you something, doll.” you were presented with two slaps this time. I nod ferociously around Steve’s cock. The super soldier rubs the area he’s abused before dipping his fingers into your core. 

“Shit princess.” he continues toying around with your pussy. He pulls your head from his dick not wanting to end his fun prematurely. His tongue meets yours in a grimy kiss. “I can’t wait to watch that back.” Steve mumbles around your lips as you simultaneously squeeze the finger within you. 

“Oh? You like that?” Steve adds his middle finger to his index and presses into your warm sex deeply. I cry out enjoying the sweet burn of Steve’s fingers. “You like the thought of me watching this while i’m away?” 

You absolutely loved the thought of Steve watching you pleasure him when he’s away. An image of Steve hunched over dick in hand pumping himself into oblivion leaves you dripping. 

“Take your dress off.” Steve demands his voice carrying power. I begin stripping myself for him when he quickly stops me. “Nuh uh, not for me, for the camera.”

I turn to the camera as a shiver runs down my spine. My slip dress easily falls off my body leaving me with only black lace panties as covering. Not that I want to be covered in this moment. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve’s thickset hands wrap around me from behind covering my breast giving them a pleasure filled squeeze. “Such a pretty sight.” Steve brings his body to mold into mine from behind. His left hand trails it’s way down back to my clothed opening. 

“Can i touch you?” I nod yes at Steve's ridiculous question. Why would you ever deny him? Your response must be good enough because he’s pressing down over the fabric just the way you like. It doesn’t take long for his self restraint to be overcome and he’s dipping his fingers under your panties. He dips into your liquid arousal and coats your sex with it.

“You’re dripping princess.” He shudders to himself. He says it every time you two are intimate but you never get tired of hearing it. “So wet.” 

“Always for you.” My words flow out breathlessly “Only for you.” You’re unsure of when steve removed his shorts but he’s aligning himself with your entrance. He’s bare. There’s no protective barrier between the two of you. He’s never done this before. You’ve never done this before. His tip is barely grazing your lips, Steve surprises you. 

“Are you okay with this?” He asks for your permission and of course you accept. How could you turn down your favorite super soldier? So now you’re face down into the mattress dripping at the idea of getting to feel your Steve in a new way. A more personal way. Steve pushes into you slowly, only his tip. An exasperated moan leaves you as your suspicion is confirmed. You feel every detail of Steve's mushroom tip. Your vice like grip cups him into your squelching center holding him there. You absentmindedly hear Steve express his approval of the pleasure your body is providing him. Steve pulls out his tip just as slow as he entered. A suctioning click echos in the room showing just how wet you are. 

“Fuck.” Steve whispers “You feel like a dream doll.” 

He hasn’t fully delved into your sweetness and he’s on cloud nine. Not wanting to waste anymore time Steve dips into your bottoming out quickly and stays there. Labored breaths from both of you fill the room. It feels like Steve sits there forever unwavering. He takes in every detail of your squishy walls as you commit every vein, dip, and curve of Steve’s dick to memory. 

“Stevie baby,” You can barely breathe but you need him to move. “Move… please… for me.” 

Steve takes in one deep breath before he’s pounding into with great intensity. He doesn’t work your way up to his speed. He just slams into you, repeatedly. Hips clashing into your ass causing a jiggle that Steve adores. His hands strike your bottom giving added stimulation you didn’t know you needed. Steve pulls your head off of the bed bringing your body to lay flush against his. He dips his hips just a little bit lower and his tip sweeps the sweet spot located deep in your center only he can reach. You choke out a cry, his name being the only thing on your mind. Your cries encourage him to duplicate the action. 

“It feel good, doll?” You nod so fast you feel the contents of your mind scramble. 

“Say it, tell the camera how much you like it.” Steve turns your head to the recording device in front of you. Something you forgot was even present in the room with you. “Tell the camera” With each word his body collides with yours making sure you feel him as well as his words deep. “ Tell ‘em how much you like Captain stretching this pussy out.” 

“Tell them.” Steve’s stern grunts are accompanied by passionate strikes to your outer thigh. 

“Captain…” You whine, The pleasure is starting to feel overwhelming. “You feel so good, so different.” You want to catch your breath but you always want to please Steve. Captain has a praise kink. 

“I can feel all of you.” You reach behind yourself to cup Steve's head. “It’s so deep.” You sigh when his fingers find your clit. The tingle of your orgasm begins at your toes and travels up your body. You’re so close. 

“You’re the only one that can make me feel this way.” Steve grunts in approval of your expression pressing harder into your clit. He likes control but only because you give it to him so when you praise him, he feels like he’s on fire. 

“I love when you touch me like that.” Another grunt from Steve. I teeter close to saying something important, something so permanent that once I say it, it can't be taken back. Steve’s chest puffs with need. A need for you to express the feeling you both have swirling within your chest growing with each passing day. A small smack is applied to your clit before Steve flips you over so you’re on your back. 

“Tell me what I want to hear.” His voice is as rough as his pace. You don’t respond. It’s only been a couple months. Way Too soon to say it. 

“Don’t wanna say it?” Steve is plowing into making sure no air is left in your lungs. “But I thought I was doing so good?” His thrusts are unabated. 

“Thought I was the only one that could make you feel this way? hmm? Thought only I could make you feel good?” Long drawn out moans escape you. One right after the other each one more melodic than the last. 

“Be my good little baby and say it.” His thumb flicks around your bundle of nerves with sharp short strokes. “Say it princess.” 

“I love you.” You think you say it. You hope you say it. You’re unsure, your words are completely slurred and your mind is only filled with white noise. Your body is levitating as your orgasm washes over you. You’re feeling everything all at once. Steve doesn’t stop. He doesn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. 

“I know you do baby,” Steve chuckles, pleased with his work. “I love you so much more.” Each word is followed by a sweet kiss. Too sweet for what’s taking place. Your understanding of time becomes weary but soon enough Steve meets you at the peak. 

“F-Fuucck doll.” His body tenses as he releases deep inside you. “Fuck.” Once he collects himself he’s off of you. You whine at the loss of heat from the super soldier. You didn’t realize it but Steve has grabbed the camera bringing its focus to your filled cunt. 

“You look so pretty like this doll.” His finger dip into your overstimulated sex. He pushes the proof of his orgasm around before pulling some of it out to spread it across your lower lips. 

You lay still trying, trying to breathe, trying to not pass out, trying to not look as fucked out as you feel. You hear steve mention how this was fun in the background but you don’t have the strength to respond. Soft kisses to your inner thighs, stomach, then lips lull you further into your euphoric state. 

“You okay?” 

“Mmhmm i’m perfect.” You sling a leg over the super soldier.  “So you love me?” Steve’s soft chuckle is the last thing you grasp before falling into much needed slumber.