#I was only saying that I didn’t want to get into these parts of the story lol

[madamechrissy]

✨️Feels like Stardust, Floating all around Us✨️

✨️The five times Suguru tried to confess his feelings, and the one that worked ✨️

✨️Pairings - Suguru Geto x F!reader

✨️Summary - It’s New Years Eve, and Suguru is at a huge party in the city, with Satoru, Nanami and Shoko, but his mind goes to the girl who moved to France right after your Freshman year of College ended. The girl he never got the courage to tell his feelings to, despite knowing her most of his life. You. When you return from abroad, looking even more beautiful than he remembered, he wonders if he can finally tell you how he really feels, and get your kiss at Midnight. (Or every night) Watch as Suguru tries to confess his feelings from Elementary, Middle, High school and College, while not knowing you felt the same.

✨️CW - MDNI- explicit, 18+ only! Very emotional, light angst, cute fluff, and smutty!! Mutual pining, same format of Duvet Days and Vanilla Ice Cream (Satoru’s 5+1 !!) If you enjoyed that storytelling format, you’ll enjoy this one! (Same world as this too) friends/idiots to lovers. Will be NSFW at the end, there is oral (f recieving), dirty talk, mating press, rough sex, creampie, the rest of the story also has suggestive, fingering, teasing, edging. -Word count- 16.2k- oneshot long af lol, just trust meee <3

Comments and reblogs so appreciated if you enjoy!! -(divider by @strangergraphics - banner made by me)

It’s New Year's Eve, and you’re so nervous to see your old friends again, especially one friend in particular, Suguru Geto. As the cool air makes you shiver a bit in your dress, you wrap your light suede jacket around you just a little tighter, stepping up to what you remember as Satoru Gojo’s house, opulent and extravagant, the perfect place for a party really.

You take a little breath, looking up at the clear night sky, knowing soon it would be smokey with fireworks, and you can’t help but remember all the times you’ve been here. Particular parties, or study sessions, with all of your best friends, who had clearly stayed close, you wonder will you still fit in? You also wonder, will you look good to a particular dark haired man.

Shaking it off, you psych yourself up, you’ve done your hair, your makeup, you’ve got this gold glitter all over your skin, and a gorgeous little gold dress. You wracked over ideas over and over, wanting it to be so perfect, wanting to make sure that you could maybe get noticed by him in a different way, in the way you’ve always wanted, but have never really said.

You finally, after minutes of standing and contemplating it, knock on the door, you can feel the music reverberating, and it blares when Satoru Gojo opens the door. When you see Satoru’s smiling face and pretty blue eyes you can’t help but smile. He says your name and yanks you in practically, pulling you in for a big hug, you giggle and hug him back.

“Satoru!” He pops a kiss on your head now.

“Oh my god, you’re back for good!?” You nod then, smiling.

“Croissants and wine are great, but I missed home for sure. Satoru, you're squeezing me to death!”

“Sorry, sweets. Just missed your face.”

“You’re hogging her.” Shoko says, you grin so big again, as she pulls you in for a tight hug, you both kiss each other’s cheeks. “You came home, huh?”

“Finally! Oh, Nanami!” He smiles a tired little smile, holding a strong arm out, you hug him tightly, his hand on your head gently.

“You came back to this shithole?” You snort, pulling back and shaking your head at him, leaning up to ruffle his sandy blond locks, much to his displeasure.

“Came back to torture you, Kento.” He rolls his hazel eyes, then you pause when you see him across the room, he stops right in his tracks, his lips parted just so, a pack of cigarettes in one hand as if he was about to step out. But he doesn’t move, not an inch, and neither do you then.

“He didn’t know you were coming.” Satoru whispers, you look up at him curiously, and Nanami chuckles a bit.

“We wanted to see the full effect.” He murmurs.

“Look, his jaw is on the floor. Shit, take her coat!” Shoko says, Satoru snatches it off casually, as Suguru approaches, and sees you in your dress now, your heart is racing in your chest when he stands right in front of you.

Suguru’s heart isn’t racing, it’s pounding out of his chest, when he sees you, so beautiful in this golden dress, it hugs your every curve, hitting mid thigh, revealing much of your supple skin that seems to glitter under the fairy lights hung all over. He blinks once, twice, three times, and opens his mouth, but he can’t even form a coherent thought.

You’re looking up at him with those eyes, the glittering ones that he’s looked at for so many years, but he has longed for them since you’ve been gone, he’s pictured them when he closes his eyes. Pictures of you are not the same, they are all gorgeous, you are gorgeous, but there’s something missing in them, something he can only truly feel in person.

He feels your very energy humming, and he’s so terrified, he’s going to close up again, isn’t he? He’s going to let you down again, hold back and shut down, when you last left he was in such a dark, dark place, and he would not let you in. He had no idea you would be here, though he knew you were coming home soon, he’d tried to prepare a whole speech, torn paper after paper.

Filled notebooks about you, highlighting sections, writing poems about your eyes, your lips, everything he would do to you if he got a chance. How he’d kiss every inch of your smooth skin, how he’d see you writhing in pleasure under him, but also how he’d get down on one knee for you, how he’d devote anything if he could just get a chance, a chance to tell you the truth.

The truth?

Suguru Geto has been in love with you since the first day you met, all the way back in elementary school.

“Gonna just stare and drool?” Satoru teases, bringing him back, he clears his throat, a dark pink rushing across his high cheekbones.

Suguru Geto was not inexperienced, he certainly was not a Satoru level player back in the day, but them both being in a fraternity and in sports came with certain things, parties and hookups. He mostly avoided it though, but he’s never been tongue tied with a girl, in fact being with girls was effortless for him, they all just came to him, but you?

You’re so different.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t seen you in so long…” You fidget a bit, nervous now, looking down. He’s fucking it up already.

“No, I’m sorry, I missed you all very much.” You say with a little smile, hands entwined in front of you, pressing your breasts together in a dress already too revealing, addling his mind. “You look good, Sugu.”

Sugu, the little nickname you had for him, hearing it from your lips after so long melts him, and you’re telling him that he looks good, he should be telling you how beautiful you are. He should have always told you it, but he could never find the right damn words, and after years of not seeing you, he hasn’t moved on, not even close, there is only one you.

“You… you look good.” He manages, voice breaking, he watches your face fall just a bit, cursing himself, as Satoru gestures behind you, a finger gun to his head, and Shoko slits her throat with her finger. Nanami pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Um, I mean great, really great. Like… you look…”

“It’s fine, I appreciate it.” You smile, walking up to him then, holding your arms out for a hug, when he pulls you against him, and inhales that scent, the sweet vanilla of your perfume, and the strawberries in your hair, it all hits.

It’s your scent.

He inhales, pulling you tightly against him, the longing making him ache, as you inhale his scent, that fresh yet masculine one, feeling his hard body against yours, he’s gotten even more buff, you feel all the muscles as he holds you tight. You feel how broad his shoulders are when your hands gently brush against his biceps over his soft black sweater.

You look up into his eyes, those dark violet ones that are lidded and lazy, making you wonder what they look like when he feels good. You shake the thoughts away, praying your dress covers the now perked up nipples from the contact, your heat pooling in your lower tummy just from a hug. How has he gotten more gorgeous, you can’t understand.

His mid length dark hair is even longer now, straight and silky to his shoulders and even beyond them, he has half of it up in a bun and damned if Suguru Geto is the only man that can make it look so attractive. A little wisp falls in front of his forehead just so, you ache to brush it back, to lean up and kiss those full lips, glossy when he runs a tongue along them.

It’s not just as bad as it was before for you…

It’s not just as bad as it was before for him…

It’s worse.

“Ahem, weren’t you going to smoke?” Shoko cuts in the awkward silence of you two, you step aside then.

“Sorry, don't let me keep you! We can catch up later.” You say, and he opens his mouth again, then Satoru interrupts.

“Go check out the stars together on the balcony and have a smoke, Suguru, yeah?” Suguru nods then, eagerly, taking your jacket from Satoru and gently putting it over your shoulders.

“Yeah, if it won’t bother you?” He asks, you shake your head with a smile, although you don’t smoke, it is very common in France, and you’re pretty used to it now, along with Sugu and Shoko having smoked since high school.

“Not at all. If you don’t mind the company.” You say, brushing your hair back behind your ear, you’re so fucking cute, Suguru wants to tell you…

No, he’s going to tell you.

Tonight.

What if you leave again, what if someone sweeps you off your feet? What if he’ll live forever and not have said it? He has to throw it out there, and if you do not feel the same, he worries he’ll hit that dark place again, but he’s going to try. He places his hand on the small of your back, then Satoru hands you both a glass of champagne, winking at you.

You walk out with him, god his big hand feels good there, it feels so natural. For years upon years you had a thing for him, but it seems you all had really just stayed friends, he’s kept in touch even though you’ve been abroad, but it seemed merely friendly. He watched your Insta and liked a couple pictures, made a couple comments, you two hadn’t even had a phone call.

You realize just how much you missed that dark, husky voice when you both step out back to Satoru’s balcony, it’s high up on a hill, giving the perfect view of the sky and of the city lights below. You lean against the glass railing, watching the sky glittering, stars twinkling, the moon a crescent shimmering and reflected on the water overlooking the pretty lake below.

“This is so nice, I missed the beauty here.” Suguru looks at you, at the breeze gently blowing your hair back, revealing your beautiful face in the night.

“I missed the beauty too.” He says, you look at him then, incredulously, and his heart hammers, like he’s a dumb teenager and not twenty two now.

“What do you mean, did you leave here for a bit?” You ask, and he exhales then, stepping closer to you, two fingers tilting your chin up, and you feel your body react, your pulse fluttering.

“I mean your beauty. You don’t just look great, fuck I am dumb sometimes, I suck at expressing…”

“Sugu, it's fine.”

“It’s not. You look breathtaking.” His violet eyes glimmer, dark lashes hovering over them, the words not computing in your muddled mind. “That’s as close to the word that describes you as I can think.”

“Breathtaking? I… that’s too…” You’re glad it’s dark, so he can’t see his effects on you, but surely he catches the rise and fall of your chest with the quickening of your breath, and when his thumb brushes over your lower lip, it trembles just a bit. “You really think so?”

He scoffs a bit, sighing. “I’ve always thought so, I’ve always thought you were beautiful, even when we were kids. I’m sure I’ve… said it.”

“N-no. Um, you have said pretty but I thought you meant it as a friend?” Suguru sighs again, looking back into your eyes, hand still on your chin.

“There are a few memories I’d like to look back on with you, do you think you can listen to them tonight? If I promise you the best New Years Eve kiss ever?” You giggle then, looking down shyly, hands roaming gently up his hard abdomen, fingers clutching the soft fabric just so.

“I get a kiss from Suguru Geto? Wasn’t the last one… gosh, prom?” He nods then, smirking just a bit.

“That will be one of the stories.”

“And do I get a kiss for each one?” You tease, raising a brow.

“Do you want five kisses?”

“Five! Sounds like it’d be more than kisses, hmm?” Suguru’s hair falls over his shoulder gently, his free hand pressing against the nip of your waist, and something clicks then, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

He knows this is where he is supposed to be, gazing down at your beautiful face, your lips parted just so, eyes dilating when his thumb presses against your ribcage under the swell of your breast. He watches your breath hitch, as his own does, when he feels your body, the curve of your waist, over the sequined dress he’d die to take off of you.

“I could kiss you everywhere.” You let this sound escape, this little cry that you quickly get embarrassed by, but he shakes his head, pulling you closer. “I’ll demonstrate a bit.”

“Y-yeah?” He chuckles against your ear, breath tickling.

“Yeah.” He kisses right behind your ear, a little press of firm lips, that touch alone has you aching, reeling, when his tongue flicks against your skin, your hands clutch him tightly, earning his quiet moan at your reaction.

“Sugu, I've also wanted to tell you something, something I really have been wanting to say for so long.” Suguru kisses your neck again, inhaling your scent, before nodding and pulling back.

“After my stories.” He says with a turn to his lips, you laugh softly.

“Yeah? All right. First one, shoot.” You pick up your glass off the railing, he picks his up as well. “Thought you were gonna have a smoke?”

“Trying to quit soon.” He admits, pulling one out then, leaning on the rail and looking at you, clinking your glasses. “Light for me?”

“Sure.” You take the lighter, hands just a little shaky when you flick it, the flame burns the cherry of his slim white cigarette, he takes an inhale, careful to blow the smoke up and away from you, then he takes a sip of the champagne, as do you.

“First story starts on the day we met, do you remember?” You smile fondly, nodding then.

*****

The First time Suguru Geto tried to confess his feelings - Age 11- Grade Five

Suguru Geto was staring at you, the new girl in the school, how could he not when you were just so cute? He thinks you’re the cutest girl he has seen, actually, and Satoru, his best friend, was snickering behind him as he just stared. “You think she’s cute!”

“No!” Suguru hissed, but Satoru was snorting in laughter, as you all played in the playground, it was winter time that year, and a light dusting of snow was on the ground, coating the grass in white.

“Hey, new girl!” Satoru shouted, you turned then, you were just reading a book rather than playing, Suguru found it so interesting, how your glasses sat just so on the bridge of your nose, which is a little red from the cold.

“Yeah?” You closed the book, standing and walking up to them both, Satoru had begun nudging Suguru in the shoulder, when your eyes met for the first time.

Gosh, he’s so cute, you thought, he literally looked afraid though as he stared at you with wide violet eyes. You worry then, is there something on your face!? The way he stared, you start to feel like something must be wrong with you, especially when he didn’t say anything, and instead his white haired best friend stepped closer to you, grinning.

“What’s your name, new girl?” He asked, you softly tell them, and Suguru repeated your name softly, as he continued to stare.

“Um, is there something on my face?” You asked him then, gloved hand coming to an overheated cheek. Suguru sputtered, and Satoru laughed then.

“Nah, he thinks you’re cute. I think he likes you.” Satoru had declared in a sing-song voice, and you felt it, your heart fluttering at the thought of such a cute boy liking you.

Suguru doesn’t like you though, he thinks he has fallen in love at first sight, maybe that sounds silly, but how else can he explain this?

“You think I’m cute?” You asked shyly, and Suguru shook his head, breaking your little eleven year old heart.

“No, I don’t! I don’t like you.” You gasped then, and Satoru grimaced at his friend's folly, hand on his own face. “I mean, oh my god, I don’t know you… I don’t not like you! I just… don’t think you’re cute. I mean-”

“I… I have to go.” You felt the tears pricking your eyes, embarrassment creeping in, maybe this is a thing, to be mean to the new girl? You turned and ran off.

“You really messed that up. She is cute.” Satoru had said, Suguru glared at him, then frowned when he looked at your retreating figure.

“Satoru, you throw snowballs at the girl you like.”

“It’s better than what you did!” Satoru was stomping his foot. Suguru sighed, running after you, calling your name, you paused, turning then, and he saw your face streaked with tears, it gives him the worst feeling in the world.

“What do you want?” You mumbled, voice breaking. “It’s fine if you don’t like me, but leave me alone.”

“I do! I… I don’t…” Why can’t Suguru say anything?

“Maybe we can be friends anyway?” You asked, sniffling then, and Suguru nodded eagerly, clearing his throat, brushing tears from your cheek then.

“Of course I’m sorry. You’re not… not cute. I…”

“Okay. Then… we are friends? I need friends, all mine are back home.” You were, holding out a hand, he took it in his, nodding with a little smile.

“Friends.”

But eleven year old Suguru knew even then that he didn’t just want to be your friend, no he’d like to always hold your hand, and it felt empty when you turned and walked away, a pretty smile brightening your tear streaked cheeks. Satoru whistled and shook his head when Suguru came back.

“You messed up, Suguru.”

“I know.”

*****

You feel emotions pick at you now, remembering that day like it was yesterday somehow, it’s all fresh in your mind even after all these years. You look down nervously, sipping the champagne and sighing, as Suguru puts out a cigarette now, brushing his hair back and looking down at you.

“I remember all of that. It was so embarrassing, Sugu, why are we going there?” Suguru shakes his head, taking your hand in his now, remembering how it felt to hold your hand the first time, even in both of your winter gloves.

“I did think you were cute, the cutest girl I’d seen.” You giggle a bit, shaking your head. “I did, Satoru put me on the spot, and I froze.”

“He’s good at doing that.” You are stepping closer, looking up at him under your lashes as he towers so tall over you. “I was so nervous, it was my first day, I think you two were the first to talk to me.”

“You had your nose in a book, you always have though.”

“So, why the walk down memory lane?”

Suguru takes a breath, cupping your face, he watches your pupils dilate, feels the heat of your cheeks under his palm, aching for you. “It’s so you know.”

“Know what, you thought the new girl was cute?” He exhales, shaking his head, lips just a centimeter from yours.

“Much more than that. But you needed to know that I liked you.”

“Really!?”

He chuckles. “Yes, really. I hated when you cried, it made me so upset. It always has.”

You gently hold his wrist, thumb pressing against the veins of his inner wrist that pop out of his skin just so, strong arms, strong hands, that make you wonder. “I think I earned one of your kisses.”

“You did, love.”

Love, that little term of endearment breaks you, breaks your resolve, when his plump lips descend, tasting just faintly of smoke, but also sweet like the grape of the champagne against yours.

When Suguru Geto kisses your lips, it takes everything in him now to lift up that dress and taste all of you, when his tongue dives into the sweetness of your mouth gently between the seam of your soft lips. You let out this breathy cry, one that makes him ache for you, fuck he’s getting hard just kissing you, just feeling your tongue glide along his, then you gasp.

“You got your tongue pierced?” You murmur then, when you feel the barbell hit your tongue, he chuckles a bit, thumb brushing along your jawline, making you tremble, you feel it, the wetness sticking against your lacy panties, from a kiss, then when he holds out his tongue?

You’re done.

“Yeah I got it done a couple years back.” You bite your lower lip, mind thinking insane thoughts, picturing just what it could do, and then trying to shove all that back, because you know how much it would mean if you both took that step.

Fuck it would mean too much to you, you don’t know if you can casually hook up with him, to the point you step back a bit. “I can’t.”

He frowns, brows drawing together. “Can’t what?”

“I thought I could maybe… hook up with you. God I want to.” His lips part, narrowed eyes widening now. “But it would be too much for me. I need to… I need to go, I’m sorry.”

“Stop. Please.” He murmurs your name, gripping your hand when you turn away, big hand swallowing your little one, you exhale, looking back up at him. “You think that’s what I want from you, a hook up?”

“No, I said I wanted it. But I don’t think I could be casual, not with you.”

“And you think I could be casual with you?” Your heart is almost thudding so fast you feel dizzy, he pulls you against him again, your eyes go back to his lips. “I wasn’t asking for a ‘hook up’ tonight.”

“If you keep kissing me, that’s what will happen. Your tongue ring is fucking up my brain.” He snorts then, you look down shyly. “I’m not joking.”

“You’re so cute.” You think back on that day again, as does Suguru. “I should have told you then, that you were the cutest girl I’d ever seen.”

“Sugu, we were kids, it’s fine. Don’t worry about things like that.”

“No, I need to tell you another time I didn’t say the right thing.” You shake your head. “Yes, I do. Want another drink for the next story?”

“Just don’t show me that tongue ring please, I don’t think I can handle the horny ass thoughts.” He chuckles again, leaning close, the breeze blowing his sweater just a bit, lining his hard body.

“Think that’s my only piercing?” You bite your lip, mind racing.

“You’re a tease, Suguru Geto.” You whisper softly.

“Not teasing. Another story, should we go inside for the next?” You nod, a little nervous as he guides you through the party, you wave and make small talk with old friends and new faces, when he grabs two more glasses of champagne and takes you by the hand.

“Where are we heading, storyteller? Feel like this is the ghosts of New years past.” He laughs again, fuck when is the last time he laughed this much?

“I have a room here for when I stay, though I don’t often now that Satoru has his girl, they fuck so loud it echoes everywhere.” You snort now, shaking your head.

“It’s wild they ended up together after so long, I didn’t know if they’d ever admit their feelings.” It gets quiet then, between you two, so much left unsaid, because Suguru hasn’t admitted his own feelings, despite helping Satoru finally confess his.

Suguru shuts the door to the room, heading over to the speaker and connecting his phone, putting on one of your favorite songs, sitting on the bed then, leaning casually and patting the spot next to him. You sit down, you’re alone with Suguru Geto, the boy you’ve been head over heels for, since forever.

His heart skips a beat when you sit down, and sip your drink, smiling curiously at him, the longing just growing with every breath you take. “You remember this?”

“Of course I do. It’s going to fit into my next story.”

“Can I pick the next spot you kiss? Shit that’s so forward oh my-”

“Shh.” Suguru has a finger on your lips. “Yes, you can pick anywhere on your pretty little body.” His words fuck what’s left of your mind, one of his hand casually brushing against your bare thigh.

“Pretty little body?” You whisper back.

“Very, very pretty. Are you ready for more of me admitting I absolutely was trash at communicating?” His violet eyes glint just a bit with humor, you sip your drink, scooching just a little closer, nodding then.

“I’m ready. Where to next?”

“Middle School.”

*****

The Second time Suguru Geto tried to confess his feelings - Age 14- Grade Eight

You and Suguru had a school project together, and he had to admit he was so nervous for you to be here, in his house, in his room. You were laying on your tummy on the floor, feet kicked up in the air, little silver anklets on your ankles dangling just so as you swung them back and forth, as you drew all over the giant poster board, shading it in as you go.

“You’re really good at art.” Suguru said softly, you smiled brightly at the compliment, lighting up your pretty face, your braces just adding to it.

“Oh thanks Suguru, you’re always so nice. I’m so glad we’re friends.” You said, sitting up then, on your knees, a hand on his shoulder fondly.

With glasses and braces, some kids picked on you here and there, but Suguru and Satoru never let anyone mess with you, so people backed off rather quickly when the boys getting taller and bigger than everyone stood up for you. Especially Suguru, he was the first to defend from any standpoint.

When your hand touched his shoulder he blushed, and you tilted your head curiously at him. “Are you hot in here, Suguru? Do you have a fan?”

“I… um… yeah. Hot.” He cleared his throat, turning the little fan on in the room, it blew back his hair just so, his growing dark locks blowing back, and your heart faltered just a bit.

He looked like some guy from a book, from a movie you think, riding some horse with his hair blowing like that. When he smiles at you with those tired violet eyes of his, you melt more and more. How were you supposed to only be his friend when he’s that handsome, and you kept imagining your first kiss in your head over and over, wishing that it could be him.

You know you’re probably not his type though, Suguru had girls that flirted with him a lot, and the only couple you’ve seen him with were pretty different from you. You’re a nerdy girl and quiet, so the two of you fall into a comfortable silence often. You imagine maybe he wants someone a little more outgoing, a little more popular, but you’re not sure.

You do know no matter how many times you all hang out, he has never even glanced at you as anything but a friend.

But you’re very wrong.

Every time you look away, Suguru looks at you, and would think just how cute you are doing every little mundane thing you did. His already deep feelings had him writing in his journals about you, and only you, he composed silly poems that absolutely should never see the light of day. You made him feel so silly, he should just share it with you, right?

He’s brought back to you gently putting your hand down, scooching close to him on the soft carpet of his bedroom, leaning back against the bed. “Suguru, can I ask something personal?”

“Of course. Yes, I am a spy, undercover. You knew?” You snort at that, rolling your eyes.

“Knew it. No, um… you’ve… have you ever kissed?”

Suguru’s heart literally stopped at that moment, god he thinks the room is spinning, as those words casually came from your lips, lips that had sparkly gloss on them, that he’s currently staring at now. He gulps, and you nervously wet them, doing far too many things to his teenage brain, that already runs at half capacity when in your presence.

“Have I what!?”

“Oh that’s too personal? I’m sorry… I just haven’t yet, and I feel like everyone else has. Is it the braces? Or… am I too shy? Not… maybe not pretty enough. Suguru, do you think I’ll get prettier when I get these off?” You asked, and he glared at you, long lashes lowering. “Am I asking too much?”

“You’re… you’re so…” Say it, say it, say it.

“So…” You lead him to finish but he takes a breath then, shocking you when he cupped your face gently, your hands came to his wrists, breath catching when he leaned over you.

“You’re pretty with braces, or without, okay?” You felt your own cheeks heat up, when he leaned closer, his silky hair falling to the side.

“Thank you, you’re the best friend.” You whispered, the word friend made him sick almost. “You made me feel better.”

“I’ve kissed before, I can show you. If… if you want.” He said then, and you nodded nervously, it’s a friend showing you a kiss, right?

When Suguru’s lips found yours that day, while your favorite song played on the radio, it was like some electric current ran through you, his lips pressing just so gently on yours, careful and sweet, his hand on your face pressed just a bit more. You gasped out, pulling back, eyes shooting up to his, his lips were just so glossy, covered in a bit of your glitter, making you giggle.

“You’re glittery.” You teased softly, and he licked his lips to taste the gloss.

“Strawberry?” You nodded nervously, your hands went to his shoulders.

“Can I try again? Like what do I do with… the tongue and all that?” Suguru gulped then, you were literally killing him.

“That’s making out. You just um… I don’t know how to explain. I can show you again?”

“Sure.” You both kissed once more, his tongue darted in your mouth, making you gasp at the sensation, you felt so warm, butterflies in your tummy, as you tried to move your tongue back. You felt so awkward in his comparison, the ease in which he moved, he seemed so smooth, so practiced.

But he enjoyed it, he enjoyed it so much, how sweet you were, and how much he wanted to kiss you every moment of every day. You tentatively moved your lips, your tongue, at certain points you sighed and leaned even further against him, Suguru lost himself in you, imagined that this was all real, that you were his girlfriend, that he could tell you the truth.

Soon you both heard a knock on the door, and you both separated quickly, nearly jumping apart.

“Hey mom.” He said, as she smiled at you both.

“Do you all want anything to eat? I’m cooking dinner.”

“Oh I can’t stay, mom will want me back home, but thank you!”

“Of course sweetie. Alright well it is six, so you may want to head home soon if you are all done.” She smiled as she walked out, leaving you to nervously gather your things.

You just kissed Suguru Geto.

Your first kiss!

You opened your mouth, then shut it. How do you tell him your feelings?

“Um, that was really nice. Kissing you.” You whispered, wondering if that was okay, but Suguru was still reeling, kissing you was nothing like kissing the other girls, it was… just, different, it was special.

“Oh, um yeah.” Was all he said then, and you stood there, blinking up at him, as he struggled to form the right words.

Tell her.

He said nothing, however. The silence was loud while you both stood there in that awkward silence, until you felt so mortified, embarrassed beyond belief. He was just showing you as a friend, why would you expect him to feel what you do? He probably felt sorry for you if anything, you immediately turned to leave, he stopped you with a gentle hand on the shoulder.

He cursed himself internally, why couldn’t he reassure you, why couldn’t he tell you that he has never felt this way!? When your eyes were just a bit glassy, and he saw your lips were just a little swollen from his kisses, you look even prettier, so pretty and perfect just how you are, that he was intimidated to say it. He was terrified, were you just wanting a friend to show you?

Was he overthinking it?

Were you overthinking it?

“I’m… you… you’re…”

“Suguru, what is it?” You asked, blinking just a bit and tilting your glasses up, he brushed your hair back, clearing his throat, your lips parted just a bit.

“You’re not bad at it.” Your face falls, the hopes just shattered, and Suguru could sense it, sputtering, what the heck was coming out of his mouth!?

“That’s good I guess?”

He can’t think of what to say, that he wants to kiss you again, that he wants to ask you to be his girl. How could he fuck it all up this bad!?

You felt so emotional you turned away again. “Bye Suguru.”

He’d shut the door behind you, resting his head on it, seeing your sad face in his mind until he closed his eyes that night. He kept looking at his phone, but he couldn’t reach out. He didn’t wanna mess up even more.

*****

You bite your lower lip now, it’s quiet as the song fades in the background, the same song that had played when he kissed you. “Was I so bad at it?”

“God no, I wanted to tell you then, but I couldn’t.” He leans close to you, eyes drinking you in. “You were beautiful then, and now. And you were the best kiss I had, you are the best kiss I’ve had.”

You gasp in surprise, brows together as you look into his eyes, as his hand on your thigh slips up just a bit, the contact making heat pool between your thighs. You look down, at his strong, tanned hand so casually touching you, before looking back up at him, letting his words set in.

“You were my first kiss, and you… are still my best kiss too.”

He blinks. “I am?”

You smile softly, brushing his hair back behind his ear, fingertip running along his gaged earring then. “Oh Sugu, you're so silly. Of course you are, I thought you didn’t like it, or felt bad for me?”

“No, no… no. I should have said it then, something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

He smirks now. “First you get a kiss, anywhere you want, remember?” Your mind goes to the most lewd places, you raise a brow.

“Anywhere?” He laughs softly.

“Anywhere.” His voice is husky, so deep, the timbre just adding to your addled senses, but you can’t just be like- kiss my pussy Sugu thanks- so you look where his hand is touching you now.

“There.” You gesture to your upper thigh, Suguru kneels then, shocking you as you look down at him, between your thighs, leaning low, the sexiest thing you can imagine seeing. You whimper, you fucking whimper when he presses his lips on your inner thigh gently, looking up at you.

“Here? Or… here.” He kisses higher, you grit your teeth to hold in another embarrassing cry, hips arching just a bit off the bed.

“There, actually.” You whisper, tapping your other thigh. “You have to make it even now.”

“Oh, of course.” He kisses your other soft inner thigh, fuck he can see those lacy panties peeking out under your dress, the plump lips of your pussy visible, along with a wet spot forming, making him throb under his jeans. His hands grip your calves, feeling the muscles tense under his hands, kissing up your other thigh.

He watches your head fall back, your eyes fluttering shut. “Sugu…”

“Yes, love? Somewhere else?” He stands now, leaning over you, fingertips trailing up your inner thighs and higher, leaving a network of goosebumps in their wake.

“Can I be greedy and get another kiss here?” You tap your lips, he smiles softly, nodding, then he’s kissing you, pressing your back into the mattress, and you swear you’d just have his fucking babies at this point when you feel him, hard under his jeans, pressing against your aching cunt. “Ah!”

“You okay?” He whispers, you nod eagerly, too eager, yanking him down against you, tongues moving, messy and sloppy, his kiss so intense you have to pull away to suck in a breath. “Fuck.”

“Y-yeah. F-fuck.” You manage to whisper back, he leans up on one arm, your hands slip under his sweater, feeling his hot skin, his taut perfect abdomen. “Do I need three more stories? I’ll die.”

He laughs softly, kissing down your neck, your hands grip his back, hips arching, he feels your heat against his cock. “Are you so needy for me, Princess?”

“Princess!? I’m already wet, stop.”

“Oh, I can feel that.” You’re heating up when he reaches down, rubbing you over your panties, then his violet eyes dilate, and he moans. “Oh, you’re that wet? Fuck.”

“Embarrassing.” You mumble, he shakes his head, thumb pressing against your clothed clit, fabric so damp it’s pathetic, his touch feels so good you could almost cum from his little circles.

You’re not like this, what does Suguru do to you?

“One more story and I’ll make your pretty pussy cum.” He says in your ear, your head falls back, when he nips it with his teeth.

“Oh fine, but Sugu we need to cool off or you’re not making it.” He smirks down at you, making your eyes narrow. “You’re getting cocky about this.”

“Getting you this wet, oh yes.” He laps the sticky clear arousal off his thumb, thin nostrils flaring then, he moans, as your mouth opens at the action. “You taste so sweet, oh my god.”

“Sugu…”

“Shit, yeah, come on.” He exhales and you both fix yourself a bit, you both down your drinks and he then leads you down the stairs, holding your hand as he does, earning the grins of your friends, including Satoru’s girlfriend.

Just this Christmas they’d finally gotten together after a lifetime of just being friends, Suguru hopes and wonders if something is in the air, as he tastes your sweetness still on his tongue, mixing with the champagne. “You all were up there a while, but not long enough.” Gojo teases.

“He’s regaling me with stories.” Gojo’s girlfriend giggles then.

“Oh, let me guess, five of them?” She teases, as Gojo yanks her closer.

“It’s the formula.” Suguru pulls you away then, as a song starts.

“Let’s dance?” You agree, smiling as he holds you in his arms, fuck it feels so good, his strong arms wrapping your hips, it’s nothing like the dances you remember with him before, not when he pulls you against him, and his thigh presses between you, torturing you when you roll your hips. He leans close, as your friends watch, kissing you in front of everyone then.

Something you never, ever thought he’d do.

Something he’d been dying to do.

He pulls back, turning you, your back against him as you rock side to side, pressing kisses down the side of your neck. Your eyes flutter shut in pleasure, ass arching against him, his big hand splaying your waist completely as it presses gently over your tummy.

“Having you in my arms? Am I having some dream.” He murmurs, surprising you then.

“You, having a dream about me?”

God, if you only knew what he dreams of, all the positions he’d have you in, the ways he’d make you cum for him. But also little things, like having coffee in the morning on the balcony with you, sweet little intimate moments he can picture so very vividly, like waking up with you in his arms, smiling at him sleepily.

“I have so many times while you’ve been gone. God I missed you.” Suguru turns you back around then, hands finding purchase on your waist, the entire room fades away then, it’s just you two.

Just like that night, the one where Suguru failed again.

“Third story, I’m ready. What’s the next story, Sugu?”

He grins, white teeth glinting. “So eager to cum, hmm?”

“Shush.” Your arms wrap his neck, fingers playing with his long silky locks. “Go on then, what grade are we travelling to?”

“We’re up to sophomore year now.”

*****

The Third time Suguru Geto tried to confess his feelings - Age 16- Grade Ten

 You were at this party after Satoru and Suguru had won the state championship for your school. It was an insane party you’d had to sneak out to go to, your mom thought you were at Shoko’s house, her mom thought she was at your house. You’re both giggling as you sit next to each other now, in a circle with a ton of your friends and a vodka bottle someone had snatched.

It’s spinning currently, Suguru was looking at you then, he was the one who had spun it, he watched you bite your lip, he studied you carefully, in bits and pieces, looking away every time you catch his gaze. Since that night in eighth grade you all had stayed great friends, but now Suguru knew how it was to kiss you, and no other girl had such an effect.

He had so many journals of you it’s embarrassing.

You had so many diaries of him it’s embarrassing.

You kept looking at him, at his jaw line, at him smiling and sipping on a soda as he watched everyone at the party, ever observant and aware, and even more handsome as you all grew up. Suguru and Satoru were two of the most popular boys there were, and they had their dedicated fans. You’d gotten your braces off and gotten contacts, you suppose you’re sort of popular by association of your friends, but nothing like them.

Suguru missed your glasses, he missed how they sat on the bridge of your nose, though he does enjoy seeing more of your pretty eyes now, not that you knew that.

Suguru had a girl by his side who was whispering something in his ear. You hated that you felt it like a punch to the gut, sipping your drink nervously to choke down the sensation. Shoko leans in, giving you a knowing look in her dark brown eyes. “You should just tell him.”

“Tell who what?” She snorted at you, rolling her eyes and wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

“You’ve got it bad baby, it’s painfully obvious.” You sighed, looking back at Suguru again, catching his violet gaze across the circle, and you busied yourself looking back at Shoko, whispering in her ear.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Oh yeah. He likes you too, you know?”

“No way. He’s never said so.” Shoko had leaned over and poured a little vodka in your cup, you gasp. “Shoko!”

“For courage.” You sipped it and winced, earning her laughter, when the bottle stopped, and it was just a bit from you… it’s on Shoko. “Yuck.”

“Yuck.” He agreed, and Satoru was laughing maniacally.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss.”

“Oh whatever.” Shoko leaned close, disgust plain on her pretty features. “I’ll puke after this.”

You giggled a bit at her expression, she leaned over, as did Suguru, and you watched their lips press together, but Satoru booed when they pulled back quickly, as did everyone in the circle. “You have to make out, you know the rules.”

They both grimace, and kiss each other again, Suguru’s eyes caught yours as he did, as he pictured kissing you instead, long lashes fluttering and casting shadows along his high cheekbones. You felt sick then, downing more of the strong drink with cheap vodka, as you saw the love of your teenage life kiss your best friend, his hand cupping her face.

Everyone whistled after that, and the worst part is it looked like Suguru enjoyed it, but he only did in any way because of looking at you, picturing your lips on his. Was your lip gloss still strawberry, he wondered? Was it another flavor? And when he caught your gaze, he could see you’re upset, and he wondered why. It can’t be you liked him, it had been years and you’ve never brought it up again.

Friends.

Best friends.

Shoko had wiped her lips in disgust as everyone laughed, and then it was Satoru’s turn, he spun the bottle and winked over at Suguru. “Hope it’s you baby boy.”

“Shut up, Satoru, ugh.” Suguru grumbled, his eyes kept flitting to you, watching Shoko pour more liquor in your cup, when Satoru’s bottle landed directly at you.

Shit.

Satoru leaned in close, lips against Suguru’s ear. “You don’t like her like that anyway, right? So no big deal.”

“Yeah.” He managed to try to spit out that lie, and Satoru knew it, rolling his blue eyes.

“Yeah? Won’t care?” Suguru shook his head, when you scooted to the middle of the circle, on your knees, your little pleated skirt spread just so, killing Suguru then. You had looked at him with something deep in your pretty eyes, before looking back at Satoru.

“Are we doing this?” You asked nervously, Satoru smirked charmingly, nodding and cupping your face, before descending his lips on yours.

Suguru wanted to punch his one best friend for kissing his other best friend, he’s never felt so mad, so sick as when he had to see Satoru kissing you. His fists clenched at his sides, anger coursing through his veins, at himself. His breath caught in his throat, Nanami and Shoko were whispering and looking right at him, your eyes were fluttering shut, like you enjoyed it.

Why wouldn’t you? You weren’t with Suguru, he shouldn’t expect you to just know what he thinks, how he felt, but when Satoru was pulling you against him, putting on a show, Suguru was losing the little control he had. Your hands came to rest on Satoru’s shoulders, wrecking Suguru then, he couldn’t handle it, the longing, the need for you, the desire to rip his friend off you.

You were kissing Satoru Gojo that night, and sure, it felt good, but it felt like a friendly press of lips at first. Then, Satoru surprised you, he was moving his tongue against yours, making you gasp as his big hands pressed your waist, you hadn’t been kissed like that.

Satoru had pulled back and whispered in your ear. “Gotta make it look good, look how mad he is.”

“Mad? No way.” You shook your head, Satoru chuckled, kissing you once more, your eyes found Suguru then, standing and turning, making you gently push Gojo away. “What are you trying to do?” You had asked him, glaring at his antics.

“Get him to admit his feelings.” Satoru winked now. “Oh you’re a good kisser by the way.”

You’re a blushing mess. “Go after him.” Nanami’s voice said softly behind you.

“Should I?” You ask, they nod, and you had taken a breath for courage, hopping up and running after Suguru, finding him alone out front of the little white house full of so many people. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he turned to look at you.

“Suguru, are you okay?” You asked softly, he sighed, shaking his head, looking at your lips, just a little glossy and swollen.

“No.” You stepped closer, shivering a bit, he took his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders, rubbing your arms gently under it, warming you with the contact, making the butterflies soar in your tummy.

“Why?” You asked, he had tilted his head, opening his mouth, closing it, then opening it again.

“I didn’t like it.”

“Me kissing Satoru?”

“Yeah.” He said, but did not elaborate.

You blink a bit, looking down. “I didn’t like you kissing Shoko.”

“You didn’t?” You both stepped closer, the alcohol was new to you, it’s hitting a bit, and that plus him leaning so close made you dizzy, made you want to kiss him so badly, and only him. “Why not?”

“Why didn’t you, Sugu?”

He sighed, cupping your face, brushing your silky hair back, his jaw tensing just a bit. “I just… I don't like it. Did you like kissing him?”

“I mean, he’s a good kisser.” The words bring you back then, and you step back, surprising him. “I guess I wasn’t then, was I?”

“What now?” His eyes narrow.

“In your room, do you even remember? It’s probably nothing to you, but it was my only kiss until just now.” His lips parted in surprise, and you feel embarrassment creeping up.

“Only kiss till now? But guys are all after you. Look at you.” His gaze had darted down, making your breath come in little pants.

“You like looking at me?” You asked softly, he scoffed then, looking to the side, seeing cars drift down the road.

How can you not know?

“That’s a dumb question.”

You blink then, before glaring. “Excuse me for asking, I guess I should know you don’t even see me that way.”

“What?” You were handing him his jacket, feeling tears prick your eyes.

“Why do you say things like that!? That you don’t like me with someone, when you’ll never have interest in me. No matter how pretty I try to look around you, it’s not like you care, I’m just your friend.” You turned and stomped away, confusing the shit out of him then.

“You’re drunk or something, you’re not just walking off into the night. And you’re wrong, you know.” He turned you back to face him, throwing the coat back on you, the moonlight glinted off your tears, tears that broke him. “Don’t cry please. You’re… you’re…”

“I’m what?”

“You’re pretty, okay? I notice.” You gasped, and Suguru wondered just how you were so oblivious, or was he that good at hiding it. “I notice a lot about you, all the time.”

“Why have you never even asked me out?” You asked boldly then, and he just stared at you. “Will we only be friends? I need to know, Sugu, because I hold back constantly, in this silly dream.”

“Hold back?”

“Yes. Why do you think you were the only kiss? I hoped you’d want to again, one day. But I think I’m wrong here.” Suguru tilted your chin up, leaning down so close you taste his sweet breath.

“Thought you liked the kiss with Satoru, hmm?” His thumb brushed over your lower lip, shocks were running through you.

“Not like our-”

“Suguru!” The girl that had been all over him most of the party came out giggling then with two more girlfriends, Suguru pulled back, and you felt your heart break into pieces, when you took the coat off and handed it to him, rage seething through you along with embarrassment.

“Hey, it's your friend!” They waved at you, and you smiled politely, Suguru just watched you, not saying anything, coat in his hand.

“Come on back in, they’re doing seven minutes in heaven Sugu.” Another girl teased, you stare at each other then, you ached for him to say something, say anything, but he cleared his throat, holding out a hand to you.

“Wanna go back in?” He asked, a fake smile on his face.

“Sure.” You don’t take his hand, but soon he has girls all over him, as you all return to the party, and he’s sent to that closet for seven minutes with one of those girls, Shoko is rubbing your shoulder gently.

“Did you say how you feel?”

“I tried, I tried. But he doesn’t say anything Shoko, he just shuts down.”

“He does that sometimes, but I swear he really likes-” Her vision went to the opening door, people were all whistling and making comments, you turned and saw him, with lipstick all over his cheek and neck, and the girl was giggling. His eyes caught yours, his face falling then.

“Let’s go home, please.”

*****

The memories hit so hard you can’t breathe for a moment, Suguru’s face is serious, you all aren’t dancing any longer. Remembering seeing him out of that closet feels as fresh as ever somehow. Now you’re in his strong arms, and he watches those tears back in your eyes, hating himself for them.

“I didn’t kiss her.” His voice brings you back to the present.

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“I never kissed her. She didn’t wanna get made fun of, so she asked if she could plant some kisses on my cheek, she was getting pressured by some friends. So I agreed and let her, but the rest of the time we talked, and I thought about you, fuck I felt horrible after.” You step back then, taking a breath.

“I need air.” You walk back outside, Suguru follows you then, your eyes are shut as it all sinks in.

“I’m sorry, I know that night was terrible, and after…”

“I got a boyfriend like a week after.” You say, when he stands behind you, hands on your bare shoulders, he leans over you, kissing one, making you tremble. “I was so hurt and upset I dated the first guy who asked me.”

“Shit.” Is all he manages, and you laugh without humor, resting back against his warm, hard body.

“Yeah, shit.”

“I wanted to kill Satoru, he did it to get a reaction, and he got one, but I still couldn’t open up. I couldn’t tell you that I wanted to kiss you.” You turn then, looking up at him, head falling back just so, seeing his own emotions now, making his violet eyes glisten, adam's apple bobbing as he gulps. “I only ever wanted to kiss you.”

“Suguru…” You’re crying when he captures your lips again in his, taking a breath against him, shaking with emotion. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“Every time I tried I closed up. Then I fucked it all up, and… then you dated that guy for like almost a year.”

“I know. I wanted to get the silly idea of us becoming more pushed back in my brain. But… I never stopped…”

“Me either.” You both rest your foreheads together now, emotions coursing through you both. What seemed like a silly high school night had meant so much, and done so much damage. “We weren’t as close after that, I wanted to make it right, but I think I just fucked it up more.”

“No more stories for a minute.” He nods then, brushing your tears away gently, the love for you swelling more and more, he’s so ready to tell you, for you to know everything in his heart and soul.

“Let’s finish the other story on the way to my house.” You heat up then at the thought, eyes darting back at his lips.

“Are you inviting me to stay the night?” He moans softly, pressing your back against the railing, hands sliding down your arms gently, a thigh pressing between your own, right where you’re so hot for him. Your head falls back, hips arching just so, he feels you so wet against him.

“If you want to, shit I’d let you move in.” You giggle, shaking your head, but he’s dead serious. “I would, fuck I’d let you do anything you want, just to see you every day, just to hear your voice. After all these years, just pictures, just memories.” His voice is hoarse, as his hands slip across the sides of your breasts. “The real thing is finally here, and I don’t intend to let you go.”

“I missed your voice.” You admit, sniffling now, cupping his face and running your fingers along his jaw. “I missed you so much, god I just wanted to call.”

“I did too, god I kept dialing it and hanging up, I kept… dreaming of you.”

“I did too, Sugu.” He sighs now, as he holds you in his embrace, and it feels so perfect, to be in his arms.

You were always supposed to be here.

“Why all the stories, to make me cry my makeup off hmm?” You tease, trying to ease the tension, he smiles, shaking his head.

“Not a drop out of place, you’re perfect, Princess.”

Princess, you’re gonna die.

You bite your lower lip now, arching your hips just so, his hand trails down your tummy, it trembles under his touch. “Will you come spend the night at my house? So I can kiss you in more places?”

“Oh yeah?” He nods, smiling.

“I already owe you an orgasm for this one, don’t I?” The casual way he says those words wrecks your psyche.

“You do. Leaving me edged, you’re cruel Sugu.” He snorts softly at that, shaking his head.

“I’ll make up for it. Come on.”

“Oh you’re having a VIP party huh?” Satoru wiggles his white brows, smacking Suguru on the back. “You remember how to do it anymore? I have tips.”

“Oh fuck you Satoru.” You giggle a bit, raising a brow.

“It’s been a while?” You ask teasingly.

“Just a bit, is all. I assure you I know how it works.” His timbre is low as he whispers in your ear, making you ache.

“I believe you. It’s been a while for me too.” You whisper, he exhales, picturing everything he’s going to do to you.

“We’ll make up for it.”

“Get out before you fuck right here, god.” Shoko says, and your friends are grinning maniacally, basically shooing you all away.

“They planned all of this, didn’t they?” Suguru says, walking next to you now, you nod with a little smile.

“When aren’t they scheming something? Oh… is this your car, holy shit!” Suguru blushes a little, nodding as he opens the door for you, his sleek black sports car worth more than anything you own likely, but it doesn’t surprise you. Satoru and Suguru had killed it in sports, and both were making a lot of money. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Soon he’s shut your door and started up the car, leaning close to you, studying your face carefully, as if committing it all to memory. He studies you like you’re a beautiful work of art, and he’s a connoisseur, like you’re the most precious thing there is. And that is what made you always feel so special, how he looked at you, how you captured his full attention, even as a friend.

“Where is the spot you want a kiss?” He asks softly, you look around nervously, you all are in a car right in front of Satoru’s place still. “They’re very tinted.”

“Oh. Um.” You pull down your top then, and his throat goes dry when he sees them, your perfect breasts that gently bounce out, your nipples pronounced and begging for attention.

“Jesus Christ.” Is all he manages to say hoarsely, bending low, gripping your breasts in his huge hands, you cry out at it, nipples getting harder in his touch. “You’re perfect.”

“You don’t have to say-”

“You are. You are so perfect.” You feel a whirl of emotions, desire, love, pure fucking bliss when he runs his tongue around one areola, before sucking one into his hot mouth, moaning.

“Suguru!” Your hands entangle in his locks, back arching, one of his hands pulls you against him, the other gripping your breast, as his barbell flicks on it, and you’re getting soaked, so wet your panties are sticking. “Oh my god…”

Your voice is a breathy cry, urging him on more when he sucks on your other perky nipple. “Can’t wait to taste you everywhere.”

“Mnnh.” You yank him back up, kissing him over and over, it’s hungry and desperate, it’s full of a longing you’ve both had for over a decade, it’s needy and messy, so fucking messy. He’s got you on his lap, you’re grinding against him, pulling back for a gasp of air. “Sugu, I can’t make it to your house.”

“Lemme make you cum, Princess. Yeah?” You nod eagerly, he positions his arm so his fingers slip under your barrier, earning his groan, his eyes dilating so much they’re almost black when he feels you. “Oh my god, feel her, she’s so wet for me, isn’t she?”

You just nod weakly, when he’s teasing your entrance with his fingertip, before sinking in, you scream out at it, breasts pressing against his chest as he sinks one fully in, stretching your slick walls. You’re blinded when he finds that spongy little spot, pressing like he’s known your body forever, making you feel better with one finger than anything ever has.

“You’re so tight, fuck.” He whispers, you’re squeezing him like a vise when he slips two in, stretching you out, hearing the squelching wetness in his car now. He watches your face contorted in pleasure, his cock straining against his pants. He has precum leaking against them, so ready to be inside you. “You’re close already, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

“Please.” Is all you manage, rocking on his hand now, dripping all down him, crying out your pleasure into his lips, as he works you so well, long fingers hitting your spot again and again. “M’close, y-yes.”

“I can feel her, let go Princess. Let go for me.” He’s talking you through it as his thumb finds your clit with the pad of his thumb, and it’s over, you’re shattering for him, cumming so hard you can’t even see then, and he watches you as you fall apart. “That’s it Princess, good girl.”

“Sugu, Sugu- mmm!” You’re shaking as the orgasm wracks through your body, as his fingers slow in your sloppy cunt, so wet it’s fucking stupid, curling them just so to prolong the orgasm even more, until you’re weak. You clutch at his shirt desperately, thighs shaking. “Oh my g-god… what… you’ve been holding out on me this whole t-time!?”

He chuckles, cupping your face now, but not before sucking your arousal off his fingers, kissing you and letting the flavor of you mix with both of your mouths. “Can this hold you for two more stories?” He teases softly, you sigh.

“God I want more though.” You run a hand down his length, he pauses you, shaking his head.

“Not yet, I’ll die.” You’re blushing at the effect you have on him, his thumb runs along your inner wrist, as both of you gather your breaths.

“I don’t do this, I don’t get this way…”

“You still think that I want a hookup? No.” He cups your face, dragging your lips back down to his, as your fears melt. “I’ve waited forever for you, we can wait just a little longer.”

“Forever?” You ask softly, he nods, gulping and then easing you off him, adjusting himself with a wince, you giggle a bit, earning his glare.

“You laugh at my pain, hmm?”

“I’m flattered.”

“You seatbelt up.” He murmurs, leaning across and buckling you in, an arm around the back of your seat as he looks back and reverses, then he turns toward the road, which is surprisingly quiet. You lean against him then, head on his strong shoulder, it feels perfect, despite the nerves.

Would you be good at it? It had been forever.

“So it’s been a while.” Sugu teases, as if reading your thoughts, you grimace and bury your face against him. “It’s fine, you know. It’s been like ten months for me.”

“You? How. Aren’t women all over you?”

“Not the one I want.” You feel the happiness swell at that, looking up at him in the night, the red light you all stop at casting a glow across his handsome face, bathing it in soft red when he looks at you. “I also only really have sex in relationships.”

“Me too, actually. Um… it's been like two years for me.”

“Shit, yeah?” You nod nervously, clearing your throat.

“Yeah, and before that? Freshman year of college. I’ve only been with a couple people, I know that sounds lame.” You’re fidgeting nervously with your hands.

“It’s not, not at all. You’re picky hmm?”

“I wanted some dark haired broody man, one who lived so far away.” Suguru’s jaw tenses, the light goes green but he’s kissing you before he pulls off, exhaling as your words hit him.

“You wanted me?”

“God yes. Want you.” You lean closer, kissing up his neck and unclipping your seatbelt. “Should I show you how much?”

“You are not going to suck me before I eat your pussy. I’m a gentleman, mmkay?” You giggle now, he peeks at you with a tortured expression. “Seriously, I won’t last one stroke if you don’t stop.”

“Oh fine. I was going to see if I have any skills left!”

“I’ll teach you again.” His husky voice melts you all over, you stop the teasing strokes on his hard length, much to his relief, as a couple of more strokes and he’d cum in his pants and embarrass himself. “Alright, let's get this next story going, yeah? We’re at prom now.”

“Oh…”

*****

The Fouth time Suguru Geto tried to confess his feelings - Age 18- Grade Twelve- Prom Night

Suguru couldn’t stop his mouth from dropping that night when he saw you, in your beautiful prom dress, this little red number that clung to you in places that wrecked his brain. You typically were a little more covered up, so for Suguru to see the love of his life’s body like this, it was difficult to function, like you had short circuited his brain, well what was left of it.

It’s about to be the end of high school, and you and Suguru had grown a little distant, despite still having a good friendship. Suguru had been dating this girl for a few months, and they had been intimate already, he had always hoped his first time would be you, but you also were dating someone again. Every time he would think for a moment he could admit his feelings, something got in the way.

At this point he had just tried to focus on being a good friend to you, to have you in his life in any capacity, the journals he penned growing dusty as he lived his life, with sports and school. Friends and a girlfriend, who was then in his arms, dancing with Suguru, despite the person that he wanted, you, were standing there all alone suddenly, tiny in the center of the dance floor.

Your date had left you, right in the middle of prom on the dance floor, you were mortified then, when Nanami came to your rescue, pulling you in his arms and looking at you with concern. “What happened?”

“Oh Nanami, you don’t have to dance with me.” You murmured, tears pricking your eyes, you felt Suguru’s glance as he danced with his pretty girlfriend, you hated that you wished you were her.

“Nonsense, tell me.” Nanami spins you a bit then, he’s gotten so handsome already, him Suguru and Satoru all had, they were so tall and towering over everyone at the school, buff with pretty features. It wasn’t fair how attractive they all were.

So why then, did it only hurt that Suguru was with someone? You didn’t know if you ever would get over it, some dumb kiss from eighth grade!? It had been over four years, nothing was ever, ever going to happen, why couldn’t you just give it up, why couldn’t you stop comparing any boy you date to the man that he was?

“He wanted to go too fast. I couldn’t.” Nanami’s jaw tensed then. “Nanami don’t beat him up!”

“I will, and I will get Satoru and Suguru-”

“No, no it’s fine! Swear. I love you though.” You leaned up and pecked his cheek, earning a blush on his features, you pulled back shyly. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, darling. But I really think someone is mad now.” He teased, and you saw it, Suguru’s glare.

“We’ll never be anything.” Your whisper was broken, Nanami frowned at it.

“You don’t know that.”

“Look at who he’s with, and he never… I… Nanami I need a minute, okay? I’ll be right back.” He nodded then, and you strode past Suguru as the song ended, heading to sob your worries in the bathroom.

“I’ll be right back.” Suguru had said to his girlfriend, he ran down the empty halls of the school then, watching you turn the corner, hearing your sobs. He faced you then, watching mascara streak on your face, breaking his heart. “What happened, are you okay?”

“Just go!” You surprised him at your emotional outburst, shoving at him. “You just go be happy, okay?”

“But my friend is-”

“Nanami danced with me, I’m fine.” Your voice got so cold, and it made Suguru break down, stepping closer to you. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He whispered, his hands came to rest on your shoulders, which heaved with your breaths.

“Like you want me. When you never will. Stop giving me hope.” Suguru blinked in confusion at you, how could you think he didn’t want you!?

“What now? You think I don’t want you?” He brushed your hair back, your hands came to sit on his jacket, clutching the fabric, your corsage the same color as the red rose in his pocket, a trembling hand, as your breaths entwined.

“You’re with her.” You had whispered.

“And you were with him.” He said softly back, the hurt on your faces and in your voices so clear.

“Just go, before I do something stupid.” You said, sniffling then, but Suguru leaned even closer, lips a breath away.

“I’m not leaving you.” You tiptoed, dragging him down to you, kissing him deeply then, and it had been like everything clicked into place, like the world all around you all melted. When Suguru’s tongue devoured your mouth, like no kiss you had before, and his hands cupped your face. “Fuck.” He whispered softly.

“Mnh.” You were whining out weakly, Suguru’s hands came to your waist, dragging you against his hard frame, you were heating up like you never have, heart thudding in your chest, when he’s slipping them lower, to your hips. Your back arched, breasts brushing against his chest, earning his moan, as he lifts you then, right on the sink.

Your eyes meet, both of your breaths coming in pants, Suguru Geto is between your fucking thighs, in your school bathroom, and your mind is reeling. “I’ve always wanted you, okay? I have always wanted you.”

His words destroy you.

Are you just dreaming?

“You’re with someone. I can’t do this.” You panicked then, Suguru’s face fell, he had been ready to leave that girl then and there just for one more kiss from you, but you hopped down, touching your lips and shaking your head. “I’m terrible, you’re making me terrible!”

“You’re not terrible, I am. Please, I’ll make it right, don’t leave just give me time and I will-”

“No, I’m awful.” You hated yourself then, so willing to kiss a taken boy, just because he’s Suguru. “You can’t just do that… for me to…”

“Stop, please.” He had begged, gripping your wrist then.

“No. Forget it. Forget it ever happened, I’m sorry I did that.” He doesn’t want your apologies, he wants you, you who disappears that night, before he could stop you, leaving him with one realization.

Kissing you was Earth shattering, kissing you was everything he could ever imagine, and he knew then, he would never get over you.

*****

“I broke up with her, you know.” The hurt in Suguru’s voice is clear as you all come to a stop in front of his home, it’s beautiful and sleek, wide open floor to ceiling windows surrounding it, in a quiet street. You admire it when he opens the door for you, pressing your back against the car as he leans down. “I wanted so badly to finally tell you that night.”

“I ran off on you, you can’t blame yourself for that.” You cup his face now, brushing your lips against his softly. “I was terrified that I did it, that I could do that to another girl, even if it was just a kiss. It felt like the worst thing I could do, but the kiss was the best thing I’d ever felt.”

Your words take Suguru’s breath away. “For me too, it eclipsed anything… though I think kissing you now is even better.” He smiles just a bit, enjoying the blush on your cheeks. “Come inside, Princess.”

“Princess, is that what you call the ladies?” You tease, as he unlocks the doors, and you step in, it’s sleek and modern, but it’s warm and inviting too.

“Only you.” He admits, you feel it then, you’re alone in Suguru Geto’s home now, he’s taking off your jacket, hanging it, warming your chilled fingers with his hands ever so gently.

“Well I’m special then.” You tease, but he’s serious, when he nods, and you lean up, taking out the bun of his hair, letting it fall. You exhale. “You’re like a whole romance cover with it down.”

“A romance cover?” His lidded eyes assess you carefully, now taking out the few hair clips you had holding your hair half up. “You’re beautiful.”

“Sugu…” He’s kissing you again, your hands slipping under his sweater, dying to see him, to see all of him, when he pulls away just an inch. “No, no more stories! I need you to kiss a certain area.”

“I bet you do.” He laughs softly, easing back, enjoying your slumped shoulders and head falling back in frustration.

“Biggest tease of a man ever.”

“We’re almost done now though, want a drink? It’s actually almost midnight.” He muses, peeking at his silver rolex then.

“It is, huh? Alright you better get this last one going then.” Suguru leads you to the kitchen now, he pops a bottle of bubbly, it looks stupidly expensive, and tastes so sweet on your tongue, and as he gazes at you, you ache to tell him. “Sugu… I really should say something.”

“You can soon, I promise.” He plants a kiss on your lips, leading you over to his living room, he slides open the curtains, revealing the pretty night, where people are already lighting fireworks. He sits in a leather seat, patting his lap, you sit on one hard thigh, his arm comes around your waist.

“It's so natural.” You say, brushing your fingers along his hand.

“I know, it feels like you were always supposed to be here.” He sips his drink, setting it down, cupping your face delicately, thumb brushing a drop of champagne that spilled on your lip. “I never want you out of them.”

“Then keep me.” You say softly, he moans, kissing you again, big arm wrapping you so tightly. “Mmm, finish, I’m dying here.”

He chuckles a bit, feeling your heat on his lap, his hands slipping under your dress on the side of your thigh, making your body react. “Alright, the last story.”

*****

The Fifth time Suguru Geto tried to confess his feelings - Age 19- The Summer before Sophomore year college

You were leaving for France, you were leaving for at least two or more years, and you still didn't see Suguru Geto at the airport. With all your friends and family, you kept looking for him. You all had not talked much this year, not after prom, not after that kiss that had you reeling for days, you hadn’t even gone to school that last week, you’d spent it in your room, a mess.

You decided that night to only be friends, no matter what, you’d come back to school for the graduation and given him a hug and a bright smile, and neither of you brought it up again. The lingering tension eased somewhat, and in college you all were so busy you didn’t get together much, and then you got the news that you’d get to study abroad.

A dream of yours, always. All these years you’ve dreamt of going to Paris, of seeing the Eifell tower, of walking along the rolling hills and cobblestone streets, drinking wines and nibbling on croissants and watching the sunrise. The only thing missing from your dream?

Suguru next to you.

“He’ll come, I’m sure sweetie.” Your mom had said softly, you sighed as they sound that you have ten minutes to board over the intercom. “We’ll see you soon, promise to take care?”

“Promise, love you mom, dad.” They left, as did Nanami, then Shoko, Satoru stayed for a moment, madly texting Suguru over and over.

“He’ll come, I swear.” Satoru tried to assure you. You put a hand on his shoulder, shaking your head when the five minutes are announced. “I swear if he doesn’t-”

“Satoru, it's okay. You’re a good friend.” You hugged him tightly, he exhaled, wrapping arms around you, then he chuckled. “What is it?”

“He’s here. God with one minute to spare.” You turned and saw him then, his face so serious, wrapped up in a black coat as he ran up to you. “Alright, bye sweets.”

“Bye Satoru.” You kissed his cheek and he shoved at Suguru, whispering something in his ear, before running off and waving, leaving you two alone, as there are just three more minutes before you board.

The busy airport faded that afternoon, all the people running, hugging, boarding and leaving. It was chaotic, but it’s just Suguru and you, as he’s breathless, his silky dark locks falling just so out of their bun. You felt it then, the emotions, as he opened his mouth to apologize for being late, but you stopped him with a big hug. He wrapped you in strong arms, pulling you against his chest.

“I almost didn’t come.” He admitted, you look up at him with eyes glittering with tears now, broken hearted at the comment.

“What? Why?”

“It’ll hurt too much.” He admitted, his own eyes glittering violet, lidded as tears threatened to spill, tears he cried all morning thinking of you leaving.

“Oh Sugu, I’ll miss you so much.” There was so much more you wanted to say, you ached to say, but you knew you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t spill a bunch of feelings a minute before leaving the country. Feelings you doubted were returned.

“I’ll miss the fuck out of you. Barely even seen you this year.” You nodded in agreement, choking up when he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, cupping your face, and you ached to kiss his lips, he ached to kiss your lips. To tell you.

That he’ll always love you.

But he can’t do that, he can’t just ruin your opportunity, this is your dream, and he wants you to live it, despite it killing him, despite him longing to keep you by his side, forever. So he swiped those tears, smiling down at you, as the final minute was announced loudly, he felt his heart shattering, his mouth opening and closing, as it always does, because he was terrified.

Terrified to lose what he never had.

Terrified you wouldn’t feel the same, terrified also that maybe you did, and that he’ll mess up your opportunities, ruin your life.

Terrified of you getting on that plane.

Terrified.

“Suguru, I…” The announcer cut off your admission that day, he never heard it, he never heard that you said you love him.

“What?” He asked, as it quiets, and you feel a relief, having said it, even if he doesn’t know. You leaned up on your tiptoes, kissing his perfect high cheek bone, arm wrapping around him once more.

“I said something silly, Sugu. Just know, I’ll miss you most of all, out of everyone, I will.” He opened his mouth once more, only for you to place a kiss on it, quick, running off before you talked yourself out of it.

He called your name, and you turned as you’re about to board the plane, he feels like he has to tell you. He should, what if he never sees you again? But he waves at you, smiling just so. “I’ll miss you the most.” He responds, shouting across the airport now.

You smiled sadly, sniffling as you turned and left the love of your life, knowing he has no clue how you feel.

“I love you.” He whispered, watching your retreating figure, leaning against one of the pillars then, sobbing into his hand as your plane took off, not knowing when or if he would ever have a chance to tell you.

*****

You’re a mess now as you’re brought back to the present, Suguru pulls you against him tightly, feeling your every emotion rake through him. “I should have told you then.”

“Told me what, Sugu?” Your voice breaks as you ask him, and he smiles through his own tears when he can finally say those words.

“That I’m in love with you.” Your breath catches, entire body overheats, as your heart clenches with his words. “That I’ve been in love with you, since the day I first saw you reading that book outside. That your first kiss with me that day in middle school? I wrote in twenty different ways in my journal. That night Satoru kissed you, I should have told you that I’ve never been more upset.”

“Sugu…” He shushes you gently, shaking his head, standing you both up then, your hands go to his chest as he pulls you against him.

“The night of prom, I should have danced with you, I should have let you know then, that you were the one I wanted to be with me. I should have told you then that I was in love, but that day you left? I should have let you know that I wanted to be selfish, I wanted you to stay, by my side, every day. But I loved you so fucking much, I wanted you to have the best life, even without me.”

“Suguru Geto, my life was not great without you, it was lonely, it was empty.” You speak now, your hand enwrapping in his hair, as he gulps, leaning so close. “I should have told you that I loved you. That I’ve been in love with you since I met you.”

Suguru gasps, and shakes his head, your words a dream, your body against his some insane fantasy. “You… you love me too?”

“God, yes, I always have. There was never anyone but you for me, not in my mind, not in my heart. I said it at the airport, but you didn’t hear, and I thought… I can’t do this, before I leave for years. So I didn’t repeat it, but in my heart? It’s always been you.”

He slams his lips on yours now, kissing you desperate, hungry, backing you until your shoulder blades hit the cold glass, you gasp at it, as he hovers above your lips. “Will you be mine, Princess?”

“I’m already yours, Sugu.” You answer, he groans then, turning you, unzipping your dress slowly, his long slender fingers trailing your spine when he lets it fall to the floor in a pool around your ankles, leaving you bare as the fireworks blast outside, his lips pressing kisses along the nape of your neck.

“You wanted another place kissed?” He whispers, you feel your cunt throb around nothing, nodding, getting so nervous when he turns you, when he sees your beautiful body naked for the first time, feeling his gaze all over you. “Oh fuck you’re so perfect.”

He melts your every fear.

“I want to see you.” You slip his shirt over his head, heating up when you see his broad chest, his perfect chiseled muscles, flat tan nipples pierced with black barbells, your body clenches when he’s got you back against him, his hands gripping your ass, just your panties a barrier now. “You’re so gorgeous, look at you.”

“Look at you.” You grin when he kisses you again, and he grins, you both have never felt this, the bliss, the beauty, words you both kept for so long spilling over and over in quiet whispers, when he picks you up in his arms, so effortlessly. “I need you in my bed.”

You cling to him, your thighs wrapped on narrow hips, and he carries you to his room, beautiful and huge, so clean aside from a set of journals scattered all over his bedside table. He lays you down then, kissing between the valley of your breasts, peeling down your damp sticky panties slowly off your thighs. You’re trembling as he does, hips arching up.

“Suguru…” You’re whining out when he’s between your thighs, broad shoulders nudging them apart, and he sees you intimately, all of you. His fingers part your plump lips, watching arousal drool out of your little hole, he looks up at you with hungry violet eyes, licking his glossy lips.

“Is this where you wanted your kiss, Princess? Your pretty pussy?” He asks huskily, you nod shyly, you’re so cute he thinks, when he laps at your honeyed arousal, making you cry out in pleasure, gushing more wetness out, coating his lips and tongue. “Fuck you taste so good.”

He’s lapping at you more now, his tongue ring hitting your clit, making you jerk, crying out as he starts flicking it over and over, long fingers pressing into the plush of your thighs, keeping them open as he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your hands entangle in his long locks, pulling his hair and earning his moan, you let go then and he looks up.

“Pull it, Princess. Fuck my face.”

“Fuck your… face!? I…” You’re panting, his tongue flicks again, teasing, and you pull his hair then, putting him right there, he devours you then, his fingers bruising in their grip, the sounds of Suguru drinking you lewd and wanton in his quiet room, the fan spinning above doing nothing to cool you down. “Ah, m’close, Sugu! S’good at… you’re s’good I-”

You’re mumbling as he sucks your clit in his mouth, feeling it twitch when his barbell hits it again, and then he hums. He fucking hums on your clit, your juices flowing all over his mouth as you cum so hard you can’t form a thought, clinging to his hair and rolling your hips, unsure how he was even breathing as he’s buried his face, moaning as he drinks you all up.

The slurping sounds are ridiculous, when he leans over you, he kisses you, and you taste your sweetness, gasping out when he slips a finger in your eager hole, feeling the aftershocks pulse around his fingers. “That’s it, Princess, can you cum again f’me?” He whispers, kissing back down your body.

“Y-yes, yes. Ah!” Suguru is curling those long fingers in your gummy walls, so slick they’re slippery, his tongue circling your clit again, and you’re so sensitive you’re close stupidly quick, he smiles against your pussy lips when he watches you, shaking and falling apart for him.

“Good girl, you’re close hmm?” You nod weakly, he begins scissoring his fingers in and out of your squelching wetness, which pours everywhere down his hand, down his wrist, his cock aching as he grinds against the bed. He could cum just from drinking you, tasting you, feeling you cum again, gripping him like a vise. “Can you take three Princess, I need you ready.”

“Three? I… think? I haven’t…” You’re nonsensical, it’s been so long, and you have never felt anything like this in your experiences, Suguru’s so precise, overstimulating you to the point of tears when he slips a third in, leaning over you, hair falling to the side, his face coated in your slick.

“You’re so fucking tight, god. Hear yourself?” You nod weakly, as he stretches you with his fingers, your own jerkily unbuckling him, gasping when his cock leaves his boxers, thick, heavy and so long, you gulp at it, throat dry.

“You’re huge.” He blushes at that, where you thought he may brag or laugh, but he just nods, then moans, eyes fluttering shut when you stroke him, down his veiny length to his reddened tip, drooling precum. “Will this fit?”

“I’m gonna have fun trying.” He teases, his voice a whisper, he pulls back and slides his boxers and pants off then, and you drink in his body for a blissful moment before he’s on you, laying on top of you, you whimper.

“Lemme suck you, Sugu.”

“I won’t make it. Next time.” You stroke him, running your thumb on his tip, making him hiss, you lick his pearly precum. “You’re too hot, stop it.”

“Me hot? You.” He moans, kissing you deeply, lining his cock up then with your entrance, sliding it between your lips, you’re crying out, nails pressing into his back when he starts sinking in you, stretching you so much it burns. You’re so full of him just barely in, just the tip, you’re almost cumming again from it, your eyes flying up to his.

“Are you okay, Princess? Need more work up?” He’s so sweet, so caring you melt, but you pull him more, rolling your hips, watching his violet eyes roll back when you take more of him.

“I want all of you, Sugu. I can take it.” You whisper, he groans, one hand bracing himself up, the other cupping your face when he sinks in further, then in two more thrusts his tip is pressing your cervix, so intense you scream out. He’s kissing down your throat as your thighs shake around his hips.

You’re so full.

Too full.

But it’s so good, you feel him fucking everywhere, you’re dizzy when he begins to move, when he starts pumping inside you, your wetness dripping down his length, down his balls that are smacking your ass as he fucks into you more and more. Suguru can’t stand how good your walls feel tightening around him, how wet you are, the sounds of skin smacking mixing with your cries and his soft moans.

You lose your breath when he bottoms out, stuffing you full of his cock, when he slides a hand down, pressing into your clit, and your eyes lock. He watches you with parted lips, rolling his thumb on it as he rolls his hips just so, bringing you close again, but this time it’s so intense you can’t handle it, you’re whimpering and sniffling, eyes rolling back in your skull.

“Let me fuckin feel you cumming around me, that’s it. You’re taking me so good, love.” Suguru is murmuring in your ear, your nails leave crescent marks in his back, feeling the muscles roll and bunch as he fucks into you, curved tip dragging just so, and your orgasm starts hitting you in waves. “Oh, there it is. Good girl, so good.”

“Suguru f-fuck!” You’re sobbing out the words, he pulls back, your eyes lock, one of his hands entwined with yours over your head, as you try to focus, try to keep your eyes from rolling back. You’re weak, pathetically mumbling under him, cock drunk eyes lidded and heavy as you whisper. “L-love you, Sugu.”

“Love you, Princess. Love your body, your pussy, how your face looks when you cum? How wet you are.” He praises you, every bit of you then, before he shoves your thighs up so high, until your knees are on his shoulders, leaning over and folding you in half under his weight, hands gripping your face when you gasp. “Where do you want all this cum, Princess?”

You’re so flustered now, cunt spasming around him, his pelvis pressing against you, still snug in your drooling hole, so deep you can’t think of where he ends or you begin. “In me, Sugu. In me.”

“Fuck.” He growls that word then, pounding his cock now into your hole, slamming your abused cervix, balls slapping heavy where your cunt is dripping down your ass, down to his blanket. “You’re a mess, Princess.”

“F-fuck… you… I am… but…” He laughs just a bit, you glare, tightening, making him gasp, and glare as you giggle.

“Bratty Princess, hmm?” You bite your lip, then start drooling as he jerks his hips, hitting your spot again, throbbing inside you. “Can you take it hard, love?”

“Y-yes.” He smiles, kissing you so sweet, before he leans up and starts fucking you harder, faster, mean strokes of his fat cock in your sweet little pussy, hands shoving your thighs even higher, you feel him in your tummy when your head falls back, he watched the bulge move in your tummy, the site ending him then.

“F-fuck… Princess… gonna fill you so full.” He leans down, breath against your lips, you whimper and try to open your eyes as he cums so much, filling your cunt, coating you with his white hot ropes. His groans fill the room while he pumps it more and more, until you’re both oversensitive messes.

“You… feel so good in me…” You whine, tears falling when he finally slows, allowing you to get a breath, your thighs falling to the side now. He kisses you over and over, gently, softly, all over your face. You cling to him, struggling to catch your breath as you both come down. Suguru eases out, watching the mess of his cum and yours pour out of your little hole then.

“Oh my god, look at you, took so much cum in you, didn’t you?” He kisses your inner knee, you giggle, skin so sensitive you feel ticklish, he smiles softly, running his fingers across your skin.

“Ah!”

“Do you get like this after?” He muses, watching goosebumps form everywhere he touches, you shake your head then.

“Never, it’s never been like this for me.”

Suguru kisses your lower lip, exhaling sweetly on your lips. “It’s never been like this for me, either. God I can’t believe you’re here.”

Soon he’s got you cleaned up, and you’re wearing one of his sweaters, it’s swallowing you, so comfy and it smells just like him, you keep inhaling the sleeves as he makes you both coffee, you’re sitting on his balcony watching the fireworks. You’re enamored by them, but Suguru is watching you, your pretty face so enthralled by the sky, he can’t take his eyes off you.

You smile at him then, melting his heart, snuggling up to him and resting your chest, feeling his heart thud against your ear. “So where are you staying?” He asks, you lean up, sipping the coffee then sighing.

“My parents for now, ugh I know! But I need to find a place, the market is so crazy right now.”

“Stay here.”

You blink in shock, mouth opening. “Sugu, I’d love to but…”

“Then stay here. Home, where you belong.” He says softly, and you feel those tears again, tonight has been such a whirlwind, but this?

“Home.” You repeat softly, and he gently kisses your salty tears from your cheeks, as you snuggle even closer to him. “I feel like I’m home, Sugu.”

“Then stay with me. For as long as you want. Forever.”

“Yes.” You kiss his lips, and Suguru soon has you back in his bed, as you all get to know each other in every way, the fireworks are still thundering outside, as you get the best new years kisses all over your entire body.

And that was the last time Suguru tried to confess his feelings, but this time it worked, and you felt the same way the entire time.

A/N- This one was a lot of work so I really hope you all enjoyed, I love this format of storytelling, if anyone wants another similar let me knowww! Hope you enjoyed I got emotional w/this one, have an AMAZING new year!

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[okwonyo]

.. TRYNA CHANGE YOUR MIND ⠀ ⟡​⠀YJW

─── 𝖮𝖭 𝖧𝖨𝖲 𝖪𝖭𝖤𝖤𝖲 𝖥𝖮𝖱 𝖸𝖮𝖴. ⠀❀ ⠀❛ 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗒.

정원 & fem!rea 1.6THOU の fluff exsituationship getting together warn𓈒 drunk!jungwon profanity ﹑ recue𝒾l

嘉 i was a bit in a rush writing this and i got carried away a little bit … ㅠㅠ but happy birthday @soov 🎀

reblogs ੭୧ feebacks ─── click ！

you have been staring at your phone’s screen for what feels like an eternity. your body stays in halt, as if frozen— there is a battle between your heart and brain.

“can i come over?” questions the last message received by you. it’s only four simple words, but it puts an invisible weight in your stomach. blossoming feeling or growing guilt, you are unable to say, unable to pinpoint.

the message before this one says, “i did something stupid” and you recent your burning curiosity and glimpse of desire for even opening it in the first place.

you try to not let your feelings take over again. your lip almost hurts from how hard you have been biting it— finding a sane balance between spirit and body is hard. especially when it comes to him.

a notification brings you out of your trance like state before making it worse, “please,” it says. your name at the end of it makes your breath hitch.

the worst part is that you already went through this already.

you take your phone, takes a deep breath before telling him to not come to your apartment. you prepare yourself to reject him once again. to apologize and to turn off your phone without reading his answer.

however, tonight your body moves on it’s own: “yes,” you send first without even realizing. “of course you can.”

double texting your ex situationship might be the most embarrassing you have done so far.

you throw your phone on your bed before putting your palm in your eyes and groaning gently. you fall backwards, your body bounces on the soft mattress as you rethink your life decision.

it is three in the morning. no one should ever have to deal with this kind of situation so early— or late, considering the fact that you haven’t slept yet— in the day. especially not with jungwon.

the doorbell rings the moment your back hits your bed. approximately, ten seconds after you responded to his text.

a smile creeps on your face unknowingly.

before opening the door, when you hold the door’s handle, jungwon ring the bell again. and, out of pettiness, you want to leave hum hanging a little bit more.

but you don’t.

you open the door in one breathe, the outside door hit your face— it is nothing compared to what you feel when you see his face after so long. well, merely a week.

he stares down at you with slightly widened eyes, as if he didn’t expect to you see you there. although he is the one who wanted to come over. you swear he has got manlier and his freshly new blonde hair makes you weak in the knees.

his first instinct is to step closer. even if his state is as clear as a day, he is enchanting. the scent of the liquor on his lips is mixed with sugar touches your lips as he breathes, his eyes pouring their devotion into yours, his beautiful face.

he leaves you breathless.

his eyes fall on your lips, staring at them shamelessly while you are not capable of focusing on anything but his face. while you are not capable of doing anything but wait for the connection.

he gets so close, starry-eyed and a pink hue on his cheeks. he looks like he is daydreaming although you are right in front of him. so lost in the clouds that he stumbles over his own feet— breaking the rising romantic tension.

you chuckle as he falls against the doorframe, “and we didn’t even kiss yet.”

he chuckles back, standing up straight and trying to maintain is posture as much as he can. he leans against the doorframe he just fell on, trying to appear cool. “i missed you.”

it is lovely, really. it gets you giddy. maybe you even blush a little. alas, you cannot help but huff slightly. not even in a mean way, a very faint smile appears on your face, but just to make him remember, “you’re drunk.”

jungwon doesn’t say anything. he barely even budges, he just blinks at you. he contemplates your face and forgets to answer somewhere along the line. he breathes again, “i missed you.”

he says it softly, as if omitting the fact that he has never said that to you before. it falls like water. angelic and dreamy. oh, so dreamy.

it is your turn to watch him now. with eyes narrowed as you examine his foolish expression. he doesn’t seem regretful in the slightest, as if it was as natural as breathing to him.

“i’ll give you some water,” you sigh, turning around to get into your apartment. he follows you immediately, even closing the door when you don’t look back. you continue, “it’ll make you quiet for a while.”

jungwon’s steps are steady for how drunk he looks. you have never seen him this red in the face ever.

“you have such—” cuts himself as he swallows before giggling. “a way with words, my love.”

you wince. he only calls you that when he is full of alcohol— well, he only texts you when he is full of alcohol, if you are being honest. he calls you nicknames sometimes, to annoy you most of the time. but he only add ‘my’ when he is drunk. he is only ever intimate when he is drunk.

pouring water in a glass, you don’t even respond to him. you don’t tell him to shut up as you usually do, you don’t hit him playfully, you just wince. not feeding into this, it doesn’t feel right.

you turn around to jungwon being nowhere in sight. even as you look around you, he disappeared. and for a minute, you wonder if you are starting to have hallucinations. until someone tap your hand, making you look down.

you almost told a man on his knees to get up before he protested, “please, let me do this,” and honestly, you are just a weak woman.

jungwon takes a shaky breath before starting to talk, “listen, i know you didn’t want to see me anymore,” he starts, his brown eyes get progressively more sad and desperate as he looks at you. “and i know that i have been an idiot.”

your grip on the glass of water in your hands gets tighter. you bite down your lip to fight the urge of saying something like ‘it’s an understatement’.

he smiles, catching your antics, “i apologize for my behavior,” he adds. it shocks you a tad, you frown. “i truly do,” his hands clap together, as if it was a prayer. “i know i said i wasn’t ready for a relationship, i know that we agreed to not see each other anymore but i— i missed you so much. as if my heart was missing in my chest,” weirdly poetic. “i need you with me.”

your mouth gets dry. you feel a jolt deep in the pit of your stomach. you put the glass on the kitchen’s counter. to refresh both of your memories, you speak, “jugwon,” he waits for you to continue. “you’re drunk. please, get up.”

instead, he kneels closer and takes your hand in this, “no, no, not that much,” he pleads. “give me just one chance. one last chance to prove what i feel for you. i—i promise, i won’t fail you, love.”

his words fall out of his mouth like sweet honey. so sweet and tempting. the way he looks at you, begging for you on his knees, his eyes like alluring pearls.

you might give in.

as far as your remember, he has never done that. he has never said those words to you, even as drunk as he might have been. he is the kind to lie to get what he wants, you have to admit.

although you would love to have a reason to hate him— he is not a liar. maybe just a coward at times.

you get your hands out of his grip. his pretty lips parts, ready to beg you a little more but he calms down when you cup his cheeks.

looking down at him, your thumb parts his lips, brushing over their petal softness. tingles runs down your back when he sighs. you lean in. falling, falling and falling into him like you always do.

“please,” he implores. “please.”

you give him a gentle peck before pulling away slightly. his hand comes holding your wrist, a silent plea. you kiss him again. longer and more passionate than before. he kisses you right back.

between a kiss you murmur, “stand up,” and he obliges immediately.

his strong arms hugs your waist. you bury your fingers in his hair before wrapping your arms around his neck. he is so desperate, his entire body curves into yours. you can feel his heartbeat rising inside of your own chest as it goes on.

his mouth is warm, soft and tastes like enough alcohol to intoxicate you a little and enough sugar to make you crave for more.

you both bump into the kitchen counter, making the glass of water you put there shake. but you don’t care enough to see if it fell or not, because his tongue teases yours just right. you feel faint when he tilts his head to the side to get in your mouth properly— a little too great and little too good.

he manages to get you out of breath after a few seconds. his lips are red, his cheeks are crimson and you want to kiss him again.

“you better do things right,” you grin. he presses his fingertips under your top as you talk, not to take it off, just to touch— it makes you gasp at the end of your sentence.

in a hoarse whisper, he tells you, “i promise, you i will.”

𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[prentisssbxtch]

An experience.

summary: the woman you slept with the night before, ends up being your boss.

relationship: wanda x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, hits to smut, lil make out, uhh i think that’s it? bad writing <3

this is my first time writing a fanfic so… bear with me

also not proofread !!

part 2?

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

waking up confused and disoriented, i looked around my surroundings to see i was in my living room… naked.

i turned to see a naked woman’s back facing me as she lied passed out. i could see she had gorgeous red hair; which was going in every direction possible.

the color of her hair suddenly brought back memories or the night before:

the two of us stumbled through my apartment door before my back was pressed up against it. wanda’s lips never left mine as she gripped my waist, which definitely left bruises.

as her lips moved down towards my neck, i let out a soft moan, gripping her hair tightly between my fingers.

i let out a soft whimper as she nipped my neck. i could feel her lips turn up into a grin before i pulled her head back up to kiss me.

i suddenly snapped back to the present when i noticed the woman on my floor moving. wanda is her name, if i remember correctly.

i quickly pulled the blanket off her body to cover my own. i threw a pillow down to cover her ass, giving her at least some decency.

i wrapped the blanket around my body before standing as wanda began to full awaken.

i moved to stand behind my couch as i watch wanda wake up. she turned her head towards me after a moment of silence.

she has gorgeous eyes

“hey, um i have to be somewhere really soon, so if you wouldn’t mind, uh, leaving… that’d be great,” i said awkwardly, trying to avoid small talk.

“what don’t wanna go for round two?” was her only response, with the most cockiest smirk i’d ever seen.

i felt my eyes widen before quickly recovering, “as great as that sounds, i have somewhere to be. so i’m gonna go to my bathroom and take a shower, and when i come back, you’re going to be gone. okay?” i said as i slowly started backing away towards the bathroom.

she gave a small sigh before standing, completely nude. i quickly turned to give her privacy after being caught off guard.

“uh it was great meeting you…” i paused not wanting to get her name wrong.

“wanda” she said, filling in the blank, while she picked up her belongings.

“wanda,” i said repeating after her as i slowly turned to look back at her. “well, bye.”

was my final response as i turned to leave to the bathroom, again.

——

after my… eventful morning, i quickly rushed through my shower before putting on work appropriate clothes.

i was starting an internship at a law firm here in new york. it was one of the biggest companies in the city, Maximoff Industries.

the fancy name already had my scared, but the fact of a whole new building, which could make or break my career… i felt as if i could throw up at any moment.

i was luckily able to grab a taxi, before having a small panic attack in the car. i put my headphones in, turning on music to hopefully calm my nerves.

it didn’t.

as the taxi pulled up outside the building, i felt as if i was shitting bricks.

i turned to pay the driver before quickly exiting the car.

i slowly walked towards the building, trying to even my breathing as i neared the main entrance.

the second i walked through the door, i was greeted by marble floors with a gorgeous chandelier.

i walked to the front dest asking where to go. she told me all the interns were to go to the 5th floor, where we would meet Ms. Maximoff, the owner of the building.

i nodded my head before saying a quiet thank you. i moved towards the elevator, quickly pressing the button calling it to my floor.

once the doors opened i stepped in, pressing the button for the fifth floor before leaning against the back wall.

suddenly i began to realize i had no idea what any of the maximoffs looked like. they had a very house hold name, everyone knew of who they are. i thought of googling the name before realizing it was pretty pointless. i would be seeing her in person in just a few minutes.

as the elevator dinged, alerting me of my arrival to the fifth floor, i felt my anxiety suddenly jump even higher than before.

which i didn’t think was possible, but clearly it was.

i stepped out as i politely smiled at the people getting in. i saw another front desk for the floor, quickly making my way towards the woman sitting there. she quickly directed me towards a room off to the left, which already had several people sitting around it. i gave a small thank you before walking to the area.

i looked for an open seat before quickly sitting. as time passed more people began to walk into the room. once the clock on the wall turned to 2:30, two people walked into the room.

the first, a tall man with blond hair, slightly blocking the person behind them.

the person being him stepped to stand beside him, i cast a glance to the woman who stepped out. only for my jaw to drop once i realized who it was.

the woman from this morning. wanda.

the man cleared her throat, regaining my attention, “this will be the internship that could potentially make or break your future. you have all been picked on how well you did in school. do not think because you are here, you’re safe of future problems. we will not hesitate to let you go, if we see fit.”

i turned my attention back to the woman standing next to the man, seeing her already looking at me. i could tell from her expression, she too was surprised by my presence. within a blink, she looked completely neutral.

this was definitely going to be an experience.

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

thank you for reading🫶🏻

if you want a part two lemme know!!

[staysdelulus]

Bang Chan - Pajamas

SKZ Bang Chan x Female 9th Member Reader

a/n: inspired by SKZ-Code; didn't know what to call this, exactly, so...

ASKS ARE OPEN

Summary: After getting your pajamas chosen and sleeping in the same room and bed with Chan, you find yourself confronting him about his behavior before finally fucking it out.

Warnings: smut, pinv, oral (both receiving), mentions of fingering, etc.

WC: ~2k

--

“A or B?” Chan’s voice rings out from behind you, the others giggling as you sigh, contemplating your choices. You honestly didn’t know what to choose. As more and more members continued to make their choices, the boys had gotten even more ideas.

And then there was Felix. Lee Know had switched his top despite his choice, essentially choosing his entire outfit. Pray that they would spare you the embarrassment, being the youngest and the only female in the group. “A.”

“A or B?” Chan’s voice rings out again after another bout of giggling. Unable to help yourself, you laugh as well before speaking. “B.”

Last but not least, the accessories come. “B.”

When you turn to take a look at your outfit, your eyes widen. There were the tight short shorts you had brought, and a shirt with the heart shaped cut on the back (after Felix cut his shirt up, some of the other members had followed), and the cute pigtail headbands with the shorter hair.

After another game of chance, resulting with Bang Chan and Hyunjin switching their outfits, you make your way to change. Slowly, the members come out one by one. You’re last.

The members, like always, are loud, laughing and cheering as you stroll in, grinning in your short shorts, back exposed, your bra strap cutting right across from it. As the members continue the fun, you inevitably get 8th place after choosing a bad time for the next challenge.

When the time to pick the rooms come, you and Chan, who was last, are stuck together. Cheeks flushing slightly, everyone heads to their rooms, and you find yourself following Chan quietly. He wasn’t close with you, not as much as the others, anyway. A small part of you feared he hated you, but you knew Chan wasn’t like that.

If you respect me, I respect you. Those words ring in your head, and you take a deep breath, reassuring yourself before Chan suddenly speaks. “You can shower first, I’ll wait out here.”

You swear he sounded annoyed. Nodding quickly, you make your way to the bathroom, grabbing your towel on the way before hopping into the shower. As soon as you’re done, Chan slips into the bathroom, taking his shower. When he returns, he slips into bed, muttering a goodnight before turning away.

You make your way to brush your teeth, washing your face before returning to the bed and crawling into bed beside him. You can tell he’s awake by his tense shoulders, his body too tight to be relaxed.

“Chan?” you whisper softly. He grunts, turning to face you, his eyes fixed on you.

“Yes?” his voice is flat. Not mean, but still… it hurts a bit.

“I… nevermind.” You turn away quickly, shrinking into yourself, holding back tears. You didn’t know what it was that made you want to cry. Maybe it was the lack of communication between the both of you. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded each time he talked to you - flat, slightly sharp, and dry.

An awkward silence falls upon the room, before you feel Chan shifting closer to you. And then… His arm wraps around you, chest against your bare back, his voice quiet. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?” you whisper, your voice small, wavering slightly. Chan takes a deep breath, his voice soft. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble again. He pulls you slightly, turning you around to face him, his voice quiet.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, his thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly. “Just got… something in my eyes.”

“You’re bad at lying,” Chan responds. “Talk to me.”

“How?” the word slips out before you can stop it. Chan’s brow raises, his eyes confused before he speaks quietly. “What do you mean?”

This was it. This was your chance. And so, you take it. “Don’t you… dislike me?”

You continue, your voice undeniably vulnerable. “I just… everytime we’re alone it doesn’t feel the same as with the others. Not in a bad way, exactly, but… you know. You’re always snappy and- and-”

Your voice cracks, and Chan’s eyes soften the most they ever had in your presence. He gently strokes your cheek, his voice quiet. “I don’t hate you, Y/n. I just…”

He bites his lower lip, his eyes trailing all over your face, forehead pressing against you. You take a deep breath, your eyes wide as his nose brushes yours. “Chan, what are you doing?”

He groans softly, his hand shifting to your waist, grip tight as he murmurs against your lip. “Everytime I’m with you, Y/n, I barely stop myself.”

“Stop yourself?” Fuck. You looked innocent. Too innocent, with your boba brown eyes, wide as they stared up at him. “Like… how- oh.”

Your breath hitches as his head moves down, nose inhaling your scent as it brushes your lips. You gasp softly, and his eyes meet yours, darkened with something. A need. “Y/n, can I?”

His lips are basically touching yours now. You nod.

He growls, groaning as he kisses you, tongue fighting through your pressed lips as he deepens it, body moving firmly against you as you whimper. Whimper. Even that sounded cute and hot at the same time.

His hand trails to your open back, fingers flicking the hook of your bra as you whine, eyes wide when he pulls away. He smirks, eyes half-closed as he gently tugs on it. “Can I?”

You manage to nod. Your clothes are off in a few seconds, laying naked on the bed. He follows suit, his cock throbbing as he kisses you again. When you manage to pull away, gasping for breath, you speak softly. “Chan, I’ve never…”

He pauses, his voice quiet. “Y/n, we don’t have to do this.”

As soon as he begins to pull away, you protest. “No, Chan, it’s fine, I just…”

He nods, understanding in his eyes as he kisses your shoulder softly. “Okay, just tell me if you need me to stop. Promise?”

“I promise,” you answer, eyes wide. As his fingers trail down to your stomach, moving further, you grab his hand quickly. “Chan, wait.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs softly, his eyes soft. You gulp, cheeks flushing. “Can I… try to give you a blowjob?”

How could someone say that so innocently? He nods, helping you up and back down onto your knees, a pillow beneath you. You look up at him, his legs spread, cock ready for you to take as he murmurs softly. “Take it slow. Don’t overwhelm yourself, baby.”

Your legs nearly buckled at his endearment, but you nod quickly. “Okay.”

Gently, you press your hands on his shaft, using the precum forming already to stroke him, your lips puckering as you take a deep breath. He groans slightly at the feel of your warm breath fanning over him, before you take him in slowly.

Very slowly. That’s what you want, and that’s what he wants - for you to take it slow. His fingers thread through your hair as your lips wrap around him, gently pushing an inch in before pulling out, and going at it again. Finding a rhythm, you slowly take in more of him, hands touching him where you couldn’t reach.

He groans softly, eyes rolling back as he growls. “Fuck, Y/n, you feel so good.”

You whine, the vibrations making him neary come already as his hands tighten around your hair, doing his best not to just thrust himself into your mouth all the way. As you move quicker and quicker, whining softly, he groans again. “Y/n, I’m gonna come- fuck- get off if you don’t want me to-”

You just whimper, begging for it. He comes, ropes of it shooting into the back of your throat, even when you pull off, falling onto your skin as your wide eyes look up at him, jaws falling open to show him his whole spectacle in your mouth.

“Swallow for me?” he murmurs gently. You nod, lips clamping shut before swallowing it whole. “Good girl.”

You whimper at the praise, and he laughs immediately, catching on before easily grabbing you in his arms and throwing you onto the bed.

“Gonna eat you out,” Chan mutters, spreading your legs before he looks up at you from between the bed. “Let me know if you need to stop.”

His lips are on you in a flash, sucking at your clit and swiping at your folds, delving slightly into your entrance. He’s relentless, attacking you as you whine, hands falling to his hair as you gasp, his tongue and lips working wonders. You feel yourself about to come, and he taps on your thighs to let you know it’s okay. Falling apart, he licks every drop off of you, lips trailing up your skin, sucking and leaving hickeys, latching onto your breasts before bringing his lips to yours, the tastes of you both mixing.

“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, his fingers finding your folds as he teases you. “You’re so wet, baby… hm?”

Nodding, you lean up to kiss him, hands needing to do something as they wrap around his neck, holding onto him desperately, his hardened dick pressing against your inner thigh before he adjust himself against your entrance. “This okay?”

You nod, and he gently kisses you before slowly pushing himself in. He barely pushes himself in before pulling out, and pushing in again, slowly stretching you out as you whine, whimpering into his mouth as his hands find your waist, pulling you up slightly. As he shifts further into you, the furthest he can go, he pauses to let you adjust. As soon as you give him a nod, he’s moving. Slow, and then suddenly fast.

Lips leaving you, his head falls back, eyes hooded as he looks down at you, fucking you into oblivion as you cry out, whining softly. “Channie, Chan- p-please- it feels g-good-”

“Sh, sh, baby,” he murmurs, groaning softly as he pushes himself into you again, your tightness making his head spin. “Hold onto for me, hm? Good girl.”

Sniffling, you nod, whimpering as he continues to pound his way into you. As soon as he feels your core clenching around him, your hands wild as they ran over the bedsheets, whimpering, sobbing, and crying all at once, he pulls your hip up higher, your moans turning into straight sobs as you beg. “Channie, please, can’t hold on anymore, please, please please, Channie, please-”

“Good girl,” he grinds out, teeth clenched. “Fuck- come on, baby, Y/n, need you to come for me like the good girl you are.”

His words send you to heaven, your head throbbing as you scream, thankful the walls were soundproof, as you cry through your orgasm, him following through as he fucks through it, groaning softly. “Fuck, Y/n… you okay?”

You sniffle, eyes wide as you nod up at him, chest heaving. He gently sets you down on the bed, hands leaving your waist as he rushes to the bathroom, grabbing a warm cloth to clean you up. Kissing your forehead, he grabs the scattered clothes from the ground before speaking. “We should put these back on, although I’d love to see this view every day and night. The members will be roaming around in just a few hours.”

“Okay,” you murmur tiredly. “Thanks, Channie.”

“Get some sleep,” he says, pulling you into his arms. “Let’s talk about this - us - another time. When we get back.”

--

The next day, you’re blindfolded, sitting next to Lee Know and Jeongin, judging Felix and Han’s seaweed soup and… interesting egg mixture. As Chan brings the food up to your lips, he murmurs against your ears. “Swallow.”

[emitowrites]

Ok this is so true, but then my brain does the thing, and something completely different comes out. It’s not even a horse that I’m creating, it’s an entire herd…

I started writing a story called Everywhere, Everything exactly one month ago today, and I decided the other day to read it fully for the first time. And let me tell you… when I was writing it, I had no idea where it was going, but holy shit…

I’d had these two ideas, so imagine like two parts of the horse image above are detailed and glorious, and there isn’t even an idea of a horse in between them, just a blank space. I had these story bookends, but I didn’t even map out a vague idea of how to connect them, just started writing it. I barely even edited it before I posted the chapters. I let it flow out of me in, what, like, 4 days, and then moved on to the next thing.

I hadn’t read it back in the weeks since I posted it, and then I read it fully over the past few days and… the bits that I had thought were the beautiful, detailed parts of the story, those two initial ideas? They now read like they were actually only a first draft, like a kid had drawn a stick figure horse. It’s the rest of it that works. Somehow, I’d foreshadowed things I hadn’t even thought of yet. I’d hinted at things without realising it, but maybe I can only see that with hindsight and distance?

I loved writing it so much. I didn’t even eat or move (of my own volition) the entire time, just let it course out of me. My partner had to bring me food and remind me to go to the bathroom and sleep even! And I know that it’s not the best I could have done. It was rushed and spontaneous and uncontrollable and… I want to rewrite it all now, make those initial ideas fit better for the rest of the story, you know? They feel clunky and awkward, hurried and inelegant. Who knows, maybe I will rewrite it at some point… if my brain ever stops coming up with new ideas for me to explore.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say (but am instead dancing around and losing my way a bit, get it together Em!) is that sometimes you think you’re creating one thing, and then the ‘art’ actually happens and you’ve emerged with something else entirely. Sometimes your projection from the place you start is completely different from where you end up.

For me, the point of art is not the product or the idea itself, but the journey you go on to create it.

me as a writer

[vvinirl]

toji. f

all you did was call toji to your apartment to fix your sink since the maintenance man always charged too much and you really didn’t wanna spend too much money this week

so why not get free services from your work friend, toji fushiguro

toji didn’t really mind helping you out, he was actually glad you called him instead and definitely not because he gets to see your pretty face, free of charge

he basically rushed over to your apartment in under 10 minutes to fix your sink, and only your sink.. nothing more

“how are you already tired? come on, keep throwing that ass back on my dick pretty girl”

you tried to comply but your thighs were getting sore and you already felt overstimulated after you already came about 3 times, your cream leaving a white ring around the base of toji’s cock

even if this was his first time getting a taste of your pussy, he wanted more, he yearned for more, he need more

you gasped when toji bucks his hips into yours teasingly, his cock hitting that spongy sweet spot inside you

“fuck- toji, p-please” you begged him to fuck you, your hands gripping the sheets as you continue to throw your ass back on his dick, your movements uncoordinated and sloppy

“please what?” he taunt you, that scarred lip of his going up into a smirk, his hands subtly rest on your ass as he felt the water-like movements and the rotation of your ass

“please, fuck meee” your words dragged out as you moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head

“oh you can do better than that” he teased again

“toji stop fucking playing with me” you managed to say, giving him a slight warning look

he made a “tch” sound before firmly grabbing your hips and delivering a deep thrust into your cunt. “is that what you wanted?” he thrusted again, this time deeper than the last, “for me to fuck you like this hm?”

his pace begin to speed up, each thrust deeper and rougher than the last, each time he hit a new and different spot within, hitting that perfect spot in you that made your toes curl and your eyes glossy

your mouth hanged open, lips parted as your hands gripped the sheets. this is exactly what you wanted and it felt better than you imagined

who knew toji was this big, i mean it was pretty obvious but the way is girth is stretching out your poor cunt was something you never expected. his hands moved from your hips to your ass, grabbing the soft flesh and squeezing it before delivering a hard slap to it

it bounced back like water and the sight alone made toji wanna drool, you were so perfect, like putty in his hands, easily falling apart from the smallest touch and not to mention the way your pussy is taking him so well

your walls clenched around him, squeezing his dick as he groaned and cussed under his breath. “yeah just like that, pretty pussy taking me so well” he grunted with each thrust he delivered to your pussy

you could feel that certain feeling forming in your lower stomach, making your back arch against him. he could tell you were close and he was too, he wanted nothing more than to fuck you until your pussy was creaming around his length, until you were spent out, until you couldn’t take it anymore, until your pussy was begging for more, more of him

“s-so close- fuck” you stammered, your words barely coming out audible, you tried to move away from him and deep strokes, the pleasure becoming too good to handle- you were beginning to feel overstimulated- this was gonna your 4th time cumming

“nuh huh, you said you wanted it. so take it” toji grabbed you by your hips, pulling you back against his dick, his thrust somehow getting faster than it already was. you didn’t think it could get any faster but what were you expecting from a guy built like him, toji could go for hours nonstop if you let him

you legs begin to gave out under you, your thighs shaking slightly. toji held you up, his pace not stopping, he needed to feel your pussy clench around him again, he needed to feel you cum around his dick again

his pace was becoming sloppy and uncoordinated but his speed and deep thrusts did not stop

you were now drooling against the pillow, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your stomach tightened again, your cunt clenching around him before he felt your cum

“just like that, good girl, good fucking girl” toji praised you as he chase his own release. he replenished one last deep stroke to your poor cunt before shooting ropes of cum into you, painting your walls

he cussed under his breath, his movements not stopping as he continued to slowly move inside you, watching as yours and his cum mixed together drip out of you- some falling onto your sheets and down his length

your body was shaking slightly, your eyes closed as toji watched your fucked out expression, proud of himself that he finally got a taste of you

a/n: sorry this one took a while but it’s finally here!!

[amiaclone]

hi, can you write where 001(frontman) and reader fall in love during the games?

Sure I’ve gotten so many frontman im kinda used to writing him now 🥲

Tw: cursing

Love works in mysterious ways

*In ho laid down in bed in the middle of the night thinking about the concept of something that can be dangerous toxic yet joyful and bitter sweet at once.*

*It was love*

*As he thought of that the same memory kept on replaying it just had to be that one person…*

“In ho incase the two of us don’t make it I just wanna you to know…..you’ve stolen my heart…” *He stood stunned but tried to remain calm* “We’ve known each other for a few days how can you be sure?” “The chemistry the talks the….ugh In ho it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way but there’s something about you that drives me fucking crazy…”

*And he stood there silent for the rest of the time*

*As the moment replayed In his head he could only ponder what should he have said? What should he say? Should he avoid you?*

*He barely knew you…*

*You just happened to be a friend and helper of Gi hun to end the games unfortunately for you just happened to be there and got trapped in the games with him…*

*And you met now he won’t be in denial….the feelings for you are strong too and aren’t hate….he feels something sweet towards you no matter how bittersweet it makes him feel at the same time.*

*He pitied you really the man you’re trying to stop is….the man you fell in love with and honestly…he regrets it almost.*

*Here he was dreading the morning knowing he has to face you…….should he kill you should he spare you should he get one of the workers to kick you out so he can never see you again? He didn’t know why but…a part of him didn’t want that.*

*In the morning he’ll say something……love can be strange it’s so strange maybe he can somehow convince you him managing these games aren’t that bad.*

Andddd sorry if this was short i really had no ideas 😅

[awkwardandeccentric]

Okay wait I wanna add more.

I will acknowledge that the more outward signs of parentification are in the comics (which are of dubious canon) and that Wirt is an unreliable narrator. If you choose to say that the comics are canon (which I do with the exception of Sisters of Charity because fuck that), then there is the scene where Wirt is in tears because taking care of Greg is such a stressful task (because of course it is, he’s a child being treated like an adult) he’s holding back tears talking about it.

If you want to go show only, then it’s mostly up for interpretation. But the only time we see any adult in their hometown is their neighbor for just a couple seconds. And the big one: when Wirt wakes up, he does not ask for his parents.

That’s actually very concerning! It never occurs to him to ask for his parents when he nearly dies. And no one tells him anything about them. For all he knows, they were never notified that their two sons almost died.

We also see in the show that Greg loves Wirt, adores him to pieces, but doesn’t actually ever do what Wirt asks. He wanders off constantly, he gets them into trouble constantly by speaking up when Wirt’s trying to smooth things over, he throws their pennies out, he gives Sara the tape when Wirt didn’t want him to, etc. And of course he’s not doing what Wirt wants! Wirt is not a real authority figure to him. Because Wirt just an older child.

And if you want to talk about the psychological effects of parentification? Why Wirt is as lonely and depressed as he is?

Parentified Child Symptoms (according to Newport Academy)

A parentified teenager may exhibit the following symptoms:

Anxiety, particularly regarding caring for others (check, he’s an anxious mess and avoids taking care of Greg as much as he can)

Depression (check, he clearly has an untreated mood disorder)

Suicidal thoughts (not until the very end when The Unknown finally broke him, but he has been acting as Greg’s de facto parent that whole time, so check)

Compulsively overworking in order to fulfill responsibilities at school and at home (no proof of this, so not check)

Feelings of guilt and shame (you could interpret this in many ways, so not check)

Unrelenting worry (ha! Check!)

Social isolation (he has no friends at home, so check)

Physical symptoms of anxiety and depression, such as stomachaches, headaches, etc. (no check).

Wirt is being parentified and that’s a large part of the reason why it takes him so long to take care of Greg. He didn’t want that responsibility, he didn’t ask for it, and unless you’re in an extreme situation like ‘We’re wandering through purgatory on our own’ it shouldn’t be up to the eldest child to be a parent to the youngest. It will fuck with them for life.

Watching a coming-of-age story is just a different experience when you’re an adult. When you’re a kid, it’s teaching you important life lessons. But when you’re an adult, you just wonder why no one protected them.

And why no one protected you.

i dont think enough otgw fans talk about the exploration of complex family dynamics that the show manages to weave through pretty much every episode. like the relationship between wirt and greg seems so innocuous in the beginning, just normal aloofness due to the age gap, but as the episodes go on it becomes clear that wirt full on resents greg and actively dismisses him as “his stepdad’s kid,” while greg openly admires/loves wirt and doesnt understand why he wont spend time with him. theres so many little moments that make the lack of reciprocity in their relationship obvious, and it literally takes almost DYING for wirt to understand that he needs to treat his brother better. like holy fuck man ill be shocked if the person who wrote their backstory doesnt have a step/half-sibling cause WOW they got it right

[ktownshizzle]

A Christmas Encore | Part 1 of 2

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: You never thought you’d see Min Yoongi again, not in this lifetime, not in this place. He left years ago with big dreams and bigger talent, trading snow-covered Seollim Hollow for the city lights of Seoul. But now, with the cultural center—the heart of your hometown—on the verge of being sold to a soulless corporation, you’ll do anything to save it.

When Yoongi appears on your doorstep, it feels like a miracle wrapped in regret. But as the two of you work together to save the center, old promises resurface, along with feelings you thought you’d left behind. Can you trust someone who was never meant to stay? Or will you just get hurt again?

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Childhood Friends to Kinda Lovers to Kinda Strangers to Friends to Lovers (WHAT?! Yeah I got dizzy too) Second chances basically, Fluff, Smut, Mild Angst, Very Hallmark

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ only. Cheesy sometimes theatrical dialogue (just roll with it please), christmas cliches, virgin and vanilla sex (written in flashback scene), penetrative sex (wrap it before you tap it), reader is in an FWB arrangement with a different male character, a couple of cute kisses, yoongi’s a little messy (thinks you have a boyfriend, but flirts with you anyways), lots of pining and yearning but MC is still a baddie who is fighting capitalism, Maknae line are here

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 11k (i knowww. 😬 That's why i’ve broken it in 2 parts)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting Date: December 28, 2024

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Hello ho ho. We are back with another Ginger Yoongi fic, because I lub him 🧡 If you’ve read the teaser, I added one significant line here which I placed in boldface. Flashbacks are in italics. Hope you are enjoying your holidays! :)

Part One | Part Two | Masterlist

Part of A Holly, Jolly Holiday with Min Yun-Kay collab with @yooglefics

The air in Seollim Hollow’s town hall is colder than the streets outside, though snow has been falling all day. You stand stiffly in front of Mr. Choi’s desk, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you try to keep the trembling in your hands at bay. Mr. Choi, the man who holds the fate of the cultural center in his grasp, leans back in his chair, his gaze apologetic but firm.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” he says, his tone measured, almost regretful. “You have to understand, the town needs this money. We’ve been running on fumes for years, and this offer… it’s more than we could have ever hoped for.”

“Fuck money!” You slam your hand on his desk, voice thick with frustration. “You know what that center means to this town. It’s not just a building—it’s where the kids go after school, where the seniors quilt their memories together, where people connect in ways they can’t anywhere else. Without it, Seollim Hollow loses a part of itself.”

Mr. Choi’s expression softens for a moment. “I know,” he says quietly, leaning forward now, his elbows resting on the desk. “I really do. That’s why this decision wasn’t easy. But this isn’t just about sentimentality. The town’s been struggling, and we can’t keep running on good intentions alone. The offer they’ve made—it’s more money than we’ve seen in years. It’s enough to keep us afloat.”

“By selling our soul to a corporation,” you counter bitterly, your grip tightening on the edge of his desk. “By tearing apart the heart of this town.”

“It’s not personal,” he replies softly, though his tone carries the weight of his own conflict. “It’s not easy, either. I’m just trying to do what’s best for the town.”

“What if…” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you’ve even thought them through. “What if I can find the money to match their offer? Would you give me the chance to save it?”

“Do you know how much they’re offering?”

“Tell me.”

He rattles off a number, and–shit–your heart sinks. It’s worse than you imagined, the kind of figure that feels impossible. 

Mr. Choi’s voice softens. “It’s a lot, I know. And honestly, I don’t think it’s fair to put this on you. But if you’re serious, and you think you can do it… I’ll give you two months. Two months to pull it together. If you can match the offer, I’ll bring it to the council.”

His gaze is steady, earnest. You can tell he doesn’t believe you’ll succeed, but there’s a quiet sincerity in his voice, like he wants to give you the chance, even if it’s a long shot.

You nod, jaw tight, and push away from his desk. “I’ll do it,” you say firmly, even as your stomach churns.

“The buyer’s representative will be in town soon to finalize details,” Mr. Choi says, shuffling papers. “They’ve been… persistent.” He hesitates before looking at you with a grimace. “I just hope they’re as reasonable as they seem.”

As you turn to leave, his voice stops you. “For what it’s worth,” he says softly, “I hope you succeed.”

The cultural center feels like a refuge as you step inside, shaking snow from your boots. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and make your way to the meeting room where the rest of the team is waiting.

Everyone is already bundled up in their winter layers, scarves and hats still clinging to stray flakes of snow. They sit around the table, faces ranging from cautious to hopeful. These people are the lifeblood of this place—they’ve poured countless hours into keeping the cultural center alive and making the people feel the same way through music, sports, and art.

There’s Jungkook, a pitch-perfect singer whose natural talent and boundless energy makes every day a little brighter, his enthusiasm infectious even on the hardest days.

There’s Jimin, a former ballerina whose grace and dedication to dance and sports inspire everyone to push a little harder, his charm and easy warmth a constant source of comfort.

And there’s Taehyung, an artist with a quiet yet magnetic presence, his creative soul always dreaming up murals, community projects, and ways to make the town a little more beautiful.

Oh, and between the three of them, their face card never declines. 

With their immense talent, killer looks, and hearts of gold, you couldn’t ask for a better group of soldiers to see you through this ordeal.

You take a deep breath and face them. “Alright,” you say, and your voice is steady this time. “We’ve got two months to save this place. That’s it. We need to raise enough money to match the offer from the corporation, or it’s gone. We can do this, but it’s going to take everything we’ve got.”

“How much is the offer?” Taehyung asks hesitantly.

You tell them, and a ripple of gasps moves through the room. It’s a huge number. Maybe impossible. But it’s not completely out of reach.

“We’re going to hold a benefit concert,” you say. “A big one. Something that’ll get the entire town involved. We’ll sell tickets, get sponsors, take donations—whatever it takes. This can work. It has to work.”

Ideas fly around the room. Jungkook says the children’s choir he conducts can perform. Taehyung lists a couple of local baker-artisans that can organize a bake sale, and he volunteers to start a website so they can accept online orders. There’s a spark of energy in the air, cautious but real, and it makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, this isn’t impossible.

“Do you think this will be enough?” Jimin asks as he surmises all the ideas he’s scribbled on the whiteboard.

Silence falls over the group. They’re looking at you, waiting for a solution you don’t have yet. You force a smile and say, “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”

The meeting wraps up, and the others file out, leaving you alone in your office.

You stay through the night thinking of ways to make this work. You sit at your desk, scribbling a to-do list, chewing on the end of your pen. Next, you’re drawing up budgets, listing contacts. God this is a fuckin’ mess. You’ve made a promise to your team, but the cracks in it are already starting to show.

Then, you hear a shuffle of footsteps outside your office and freeze. It’s late. Too late for anyone to still be here. Shit.

You should’ve locked up when the boys left earlier. Too late now.

Your pulse kicks up as you glance at the coat rack in the corner, grabbing the old baseball bat you keep propped against it. You stand, holding the bat tightly in both hands as you approach the door.

“Hello?” you call out, trying to sound calm but firm.

The figure standing in the doorway doesn’t move. They’re tall, dressed in a black coat, with a ball cap pulled low over their face. Your heart races. An intruder? Someone sent by the corporation to intimidate you?

“Don’t fuckin’ try anything,” you say sharply, raising the bat a little higher. “My… my boyfriend’s a cop.”

The figure finally shifts, lifting their hands slightly in surrender. “Relax,” they say, their voice low and familiar. Too familiar.

You freeze. That voice is impossible to mistake.

The man reaches up and tips his cap back, revealing a face that stops you in your tracks. Min Yoongi.

Your mind scrambles to catch up. It’s him. But not exactly how you remember. His eyes are even sharper, his jawline more defined. Tufts of bright hair peaks from his cap. He’s wrapped in a black coat that fits him perfectly, the snow-dusted collar somehow making him look like he’s stepped out of a k-drama.

“What…” Your grip loosens on the bat, and it clatters to the floor. “What are you doing here?”

Yoongi’s mouth quirks into the faintest smile, the same one you’ve seen in every polaroid and Christmas card he’s sent over the years. “Hi,” he says simply, as if he hasn’t just materialized in your life after years of absence.

You stare at him, your thoughts a snowstorm. He looks good—too fuckin’ good, if you’re being honest. But he doesn’t belong here, standing in the doorway of your tiny office like he’s just another guy in town.

And yet, here he is.

(Flashback)

You’ve always known Min Yoongi. At least, that’s how it feels. He’s been part of your life for so long that imagining a version of it without him is impossible. 

Your parents had been neighbors, then friends, and you’d grown up sharing porches and bike rides and bowls of tteokguk on New Year’s morning. When you were younger, you’d bicker like siblings, but by the time you hit your teens, something had shifted—an unspoken understanding between you, like you’d been playing different roles all along and had finally settled into the right ones.

You’d always thought of Yoongi as yours, in some indefinable way. Not like a boyfriend, not like family, but something in between. 

It’s late one night when the bond between you is cemented forever.

You’re sixteen and walking home from a talent show at the community center. Snow falls in lazy flurries, clinging to your scarf and catching in Yoongi’s coat. The air smells crisp and clean, and the night feels like something out of a dream.

Yoongi’s carrying his guitar slung over his shoulder, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. He’s quiet, still riding the high of his first-ever performance. You’d clapped so hard your palms were stinging by the end, and the memory makes you smile.

“You were good,” you tell him. “Not just ‘good for your first time,’ but, like… really good.”

He shrugs, but the tips of his nose turn red. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, pulling his beanie lower to hide his eyes. “Thanks.”

You laugh, a puff of white in the cold air. “I am truly honored to know such the nation’s next musical superstar.”

“Alright, alright,” he says, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. You know Yoongi well enough to recognize it for what it is—real pride, buried under layers of modesty.

“You should keep doing this. You’re going to be great at it.”

Yoongi stops, turning to look at you. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes are soft. “You really think that?”

“Of course,” you say without hesitation. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He glances down at the snow for a moment, his breath fogging the air. Then, quietly, he says, “If I’m serious about this, I’ll have to leave. I can’t do it here.”

The words settle heavily between you, and for a moment, you can’t find anything to say. You knew Yoongi wanted more, wanted a life bigger than Seollim Hollow could give him. But hearing him say it out loud feels different. More real. You swallow a lump in your throat.

“Not now,” he adds quickly, almost like he’s trying to reassure you. “Not yet. But someday.”

Your chest tightens, but you force a smile. “Well, when you’re famous, you better not forget me. I’ll show up in Seoul and embarrass you in front of all your fancy friends.”

That makes him laugh–his soundless shoulder chuckle you always love seeing. “Forget you? Nah, you’re too weird...”

“Promise me, then,” you say, holding out your pinky. “You’ll never forget the weird girl.”

He looks at your hand for a moment, then hooks his pinky around yours. His fingers are warm against the cold night. “Fine,” he says. “But only if you promise the same.”

“Deal.”

You’re about to let go, thinking that’s the end of it, when Yoongi glances up at the streetlamp above you. Hanging there, half-hidden by the snow, is a sprig of mistletoe.

He hesitates, his hand still holding yours, and looks at you with an unspoken question in his eyes.

Your pulse skips. For a moment, the rest of the world seems to fall away. Just you and him, standing under the mistletoe.

You nod, giving him your answer without a word.

He leans in slowly, his breath warm against your cold cheeks. His lips brush yours, soft and careful, and the moment is an ice sculpture, so fragile you’re afraid to move, afraid it might shatter.

When he pulls back, you’re both quiet, the snow falling around you like a curtain closing on a scene. Yoongi’s cheeks are pink, looking away but his lips hold the faintest of smiles.

He walks forward, glances back though he’s not quite meeting your eyes when he says, “You won’t forget that, will you?”

“Not a chance,” you say, biting your lip as you surge forward, bumping him as you walk ahead with a happiness you couldn’t quite contain.

And in that moment, you believe it. You believe you’ll carry that moment with you forever.

(End of Flashback)

Adulthood changes everything.

Yoongi leaves a few years after that night. Three to be exact. He tells you quietly one day, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the cultural center’s music room, that he’s moving to Seoul to chase his dream to be a serious musician. You wish you could say you’re surprised, but you’re not. You knew he’d leave eventually. You’d prepared yourself for it.

Or at least you thought you had.

At first, you keep in touch. There are phone calls, texts, even a few visits during holidays. But slowly, inevitably, the gaps between those moments grow wider. Yoongi gets busier, and you try not to hold it against him. You hear whispers from mutual friends about how well he’s doing, about the producers and idols he’s working with. You’re proud of him. You always knew he’d be brilliant.

But sometimes, late at night, you feel the ache of his absence. You miss him. You miss the way he used to make you laugh when you were having a bad day, the way he’d quietly push his half-eaten snacks in your direction because he knew you’d forget to eat when you were stressed.

You tell yourself it’s for the best. You’ve learned that love—real love—isn’t just about wanting someone. It’s about being able to keep them. And Yoongi was never yours to keep.

Even as your lives drift apart, there’s one thing Yoongi never forgets. Every year, without fail, a postcard arrives in your mailbox a few days before Christmas.

They’re always simple—no long, heartfelt messages, just a quick note scrawled in his familiar handwriting. “Merry Christmas.” “Hope you’re doing well.” Sometimes, if he’s feeling generous, he’ll add, “I miss home.”

You keep every single one. They’re tucked in a small box under your bed, and every December, you take them out and read through them. It’s a ritual you never admit to anyone. The postcards remind you of a part of him you thought you’d lost, a thread of connection that still holds, no matter how frayed it might feel.

Sometimes you wonder what they mean to him—if he sends them out of obligation, out of nostalgia, or because he misses you in the same way you miss him. But you never ask.

You think of Yoongi as the one who got away. And you’ve made your peace with it. He deserves to chase his dreams, and you deserve a life with someone who won’t leave.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

“Fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop…”

“I’m not stopping, princess.”

The grip the man has on your waist tightens as he drives his cock to your entrance, fast and deep. The sound of skin slapping on skin fills the quiet of your room, matching the beat of your headboard banging against the wall. The neighbors are gonna hate you.

“C’mon, princess, cum with me” his hand reaches forward, parting your slick folds to rub your swollen clit furiously. Shit—

“I’m almost there…” you pant.

After a particularly hard thrust, you’re moaning, and he’s groaning, and you’re both coming at the same time, bliss washing over your body in waves.

You fall flat against your pillows as he pulls out and you sigh. You really needed that release.

Minutes later, Sgt. Jung Hoseok—Seollim Hollow’s most cheerful cop and your sometimes stress relief—grins at you from the other side of your bed like you’ve just handed him the best news of the year.

“Min Yoongi’s back in town? Wowwww…” he says, dragging the words out as he stretches his arms behind his head. His grin widens when you don’t answer right away. “Is that why you called me tonight? You never initiate. Is this some kind of nervous breakdown booty call?”

You throw a pillow at him, but Hoseok just catches it, laughing so hard his shoulders shake.

“Shut up,” you mutter, but the warmth in your cheeks gives you away.

When you were in your teens, Yoongi and Hoseok were the town’s favorite duo, the cute boys everyone couldn’t help but smile at. Hoseok was the one who dragged Yoongi into b-boying, claiming they’d be unstoppable if they combined Yoongi’s rhythm with his own moves. And even though Yoongi liked to grumble about how much he hated it, he was actually pretty good—not that he’d ever admit it. Still, you knew he was way more into playing instruments than throwing himself into flips and spins.

They were total opposites—Hoseok all sunshine and endless energy, Yoongi the moody, chill counterpart—but somehow, it worked. The town loved seeing them running through the streets, jumping off ledges, or randomly breaking out into a routine just for fun. They were just two boys with way too much chemistry and rhythm to keep to themselves.

But just like you and Yoongi, he and Hoseok also drifted apart when he moved to Seoul. Hoseok took the more practical approach, used the innate energy and strength he has to keep the community safe. He followed in the footsteps of his dad and became one of the neighborhood policemen.

“Your face…” He cackles, sitting up now, bare chest gleaming in the low light of your bedroom. “Did you just realize you’re still hung up on him after all these years?”

“Yah!!!” Your stomach flips, and you hate that he’s got you pegged so easily. You mutter a feeble, “Fuck you.”

“Already did,” he teases and you roll your eyes.

The “friends with benefits” part of your relationship started casually, almost accidentally early this year, and over the past months, it became something routine. A distraction. A comfort. Nothing more, and you both liked it that way.

Except right now, Hoseok looks entirely too smug, like he knows things you haven’t admitted to yourself.

You hesitate, suddenly sheepish, and Hoseok’s sharp eyes catch it instantly. He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Well…” You pick at a loose thread on the blanket, avoiding his gaze. “I might have said something… dumb when I saw him.”

“Define dumb.”

Your cheeks burn. “I told him my boyfriend’s a cop.”

Hoseok blinks. Then he bursts out laughing, so loud and sudden it startles you. “Oh my God,” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “You mean me? You told Yoongi I’m your boyfriend?”

“I didn’t say it was you!” you snap, throwing another pillow at him. “I just panicked, okay? He showed up out of nowhere, and I thought he was gonna murder me!”

“Yah... He’s gonna figure it out, you know. You think he’s stupid?”

You groan, pressing your hands to your face. “I don’t know, Hoseok! I was already having a bad day.”

That shuts him up for a second. Hoseok straightens, his laughter softening into something more thoughtful. He tilts his head, studying you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re really messed up over this, huh?”

“No, I’m not—”

“Can’t wait to run into him soon. See how the big-shot producer’s doing,” he says.

You sigh, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “I was thinking about asking him to help with the benefit concert, actually.”

Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “So, let me get this straight. You’re going to ask your childhood best friend—who also happens to be the guy you’ve been quietly pining for since forever—to save the town’s cultural center with some grand Christmas concert?” 

“You roll your eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure,” he says, dragging the word out with all the disbelief he can muster. “Honestly, it sounds like the plot of a good story, and I can’t wait to read it.”

“Hoseok,” you warn, but he just chuckles, standing up and grabbing his clothes from the floor.

“Look,” he says, tugging on his jeans, “if you think you want to start something with Yoongi—like, really start something—I’m cool with calling this,” he gestures between the two of you, “off. No hard feelings. I’m not about to stand in the way of a Christmas miracle or whatever.”

You gape at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m serious,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head.

You shake your head, trying to play it off. “I’m not–Yoongi’s just… probably in between things. He’ll be gone again before New Year’s. I’m not counting on anything.”

“You sure about that?”

“A thousand per cent.”

“Alright,” Hoseok shrugs. “Knew you couldn’t last a week without hopping on my dick anyway…”

“Boy! If you don’t–” you throw a pillow at him, hitting him square in the face.

That makes him laugh again, his bright, warm laughter filling the room as he pulls on his jacket. “Aight, I’m just playing,” he says, still chuckling, but his tone is lighter now. “I’m out. But call me if you need me.”

As the door clicks shut behind him, you lean back against your pillows, staring at the ceiling. You know Hoseok means well, but he doesn’t get it. Yoongi was never meant to stay. He made that clear years ago, and you’ve made your peace with it. You’re not about to let yourself hope for anything more. Not this time.

Why couldn’t you just fall in love with someone like Hoseok?

The next time you see Yoongi, he looks like he’s stepped straight out of some idol photofolio.

It’s mid-morning, and you’re walking toward the café on Main Street when you spot him across the square. Shelby, the dog his mom got years ago, is tugging at her leash, bounding through the snow while Yoongi trails behind her, americano in hand. His orange hair glows against the overcast sky, a cobalt jacket pulling his frame together like he’s stepped out of an editorial.

He looks striking. Expensive. Entirely out of place in Seollim Hollow.

You don’t realize your feet are moving until you’re halfway across the street. “Yoongi!”

He looks up, pausing mid-sip of his coffee, and tilts his head slightly when he sees you. Shelby stops sniffing a patch of snow and wags her tail furiously at the attention.

“Hi Shelby!” You say, scratching the back of her ear for a few seconds before turning to the cat-like man who was looking at you amusedly. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad.”

You hum, pouting as you try to string together the words you wanted to say.

His lips form a straight line, the edges of his mouth bracketing his awkward smile.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you say, willing your voice to steady. 

Yoongi’s brow lifts slightly. “What about?”

“You’re a music producer, right?”

He shrugs, “Why? What do you need…”

So you tell him your predicament. How some greedy, low-life motherfuckers want to tear down the cultural center. (His eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline when you say this, but you’re just getting warmed up.)

“Like, who even does that?” you rant. “Only the worst kind of people. The type who steal candy from babies, kick dogs—not you Shelby girl—and probably thinks pizza tastes good with pickles.” You pause, pointing at him for emphasis. “And not in the fun, quirky way either. Like, sociopath level.”

Yoongi blinks at you, clearly trying to process your spiraling rage. “So… you’re upset.”

“Fuck yeah I’m upset!” you snap, gesturing wildly. “They’re trying to destroy something important! For what? To build another strip mall no one’s going to shop at because Amazon exists? It’s evil. Straight-up Squid Games territory.”

“Is that what they’re doing with it?”

“Honestly, I don’t even know. I don’t care. They’re all the same capitalist motherfuckers in my book. But they’re not taking the beating heart of this town. Over my dead body.”

At this, Yoongi just nods slowly, lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh. “Remind me never to cross you.”

You further explain your ideas to save the town. But where he comes in is the benefit concert. You tell him you need his help in song arrangements, coordinating and coaching the performances, even performing himself, if he’s willing. You’re careful to manage your tone, to make it sound less desperate than it is. He listens, his face unreadable, but he’s probably qualifying if he can actually help you, or maybe if he even wants to.

“All the proceeds are going toward reclaiming the cultural center,” you say firmly. “If we hit our goal, we can match the corporation’s offer and keep it from being sold.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Shelby, apparently bored, starts sniffing his shoes. “I can help,” he says finally.

Your chest loosens with relief. “Seriously?”

He shrugs, lips twitching upward. “Yeah. But you’ll owe me a drink. Or dinner. Something.”

“I can do that.”

His smirk grows faintly. “So… you want me to perform too, or just help with arrangements?”

“You’d perform?”

“Depends.” He tilts his head. “How desperate are you?”

“Enough to go down on my knees.” 

His eyes are like saucers, but he keeps the rest of his face neutral. “Mm. Noted.”

Suddenly you realize what your words could’ve meant and your nervous laughter spills out before you can stop it. “I just meant I’m not too proud to beg.”

“Again, noted.”

“Shut up.”

“Didn’t think you meant anything else,” he tells you, although you can tell he’s lying by the way he’s poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue.

Just as you’re wrapping up the conversation, Yoongi glances at you, his voice shifting slightly. “Oh, I ran into your boyfriend earlier…”

You tilt your head dumbly.

“Hob-ah.”

Oh shit. Your stomach drops. “Ah, Hoseok. My boyfriend…” you quickly remember the lie, and you recover, kinda. “You did?”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone as casual as ever. “We ran into each other at the bakery. He was picking up red bean buns for his appa.”

You nod, throat dry.

Yoongi hums, sipping his coffee. “Guess nice guys really do get the girl in the end.”

Before you can even process what he just said, you hear the unmistakable voice of his eomma from across the street.

“Well,” he says, adjusting Shelby’s leash. “See ya.”

He lingers for a beat, then gives a small wave before turning to walk away. 

You stand frozen, Yoongi’s words looping through your head. You shake your head, trying to push the thought away. A pang of bitterness settles in your gut. Yoongi’s wrong. The type of guys that get the girl? The ones who stay.

When Yoongi shows up at your office the following Monday, and it takes everything in you not to gape like an idiot.

He’s wearing a black turtleneck that fits him too well, sharp and effortless in a way that makes him look untouchable. He’s leaning against your doorframe like he has nowhere else to be, a small notebook tucked under his arm, which looks just like the notebook he used to scribble lyrics in back when you were teenagers.

“You’re early,” you say, as you settle your bag on your desk.

“Well, you’re the one running the show. Figured I’d want to stay on your good side.”

You roll your eyes, “Sit. I’ll get you up to speed. And Yoongi, you’re working pro bono, you’re already on my good side.”

He grins slightly, scratching his nose as he shakes his head. It’s the same mannerism he’s had when you were young, when he’s just a tad embarrassed. You try not to be too endeared even though it’s virtually impossible.

You walk him through your plans for the benefit concert, pointing out the lineup you’ve pulled together so far. Yoongi listens quietly, his fingers drumming lightly against the edge of your desk as you speak.

“You’re really pulling this together,” he observes.

“It’s been a group effort. You should meet the maknaes, they’re the reason everything is moving so swiftly,” you say, brushing it off. “But we’re still short of a showstopper. Someone who’ll get the town buzzing.”

Yoong nods his head. “If you want I can make some phone calls, see who I can rope in from my contacts.”

“You’d do that to save the center?”

“Yeah, I’d do it for you,” he nods. “And the town.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. “Thank you. I owe you.”

He exhales softly and leans back in his chair. “I already told you, just buy me dinner once and we’ll call it even.”

You let the silence fester for a bit, but curiosity got the best of you.

“Why are you here anyway?” you ask, the words tumbling out before you can second-guess them. “Not that I don’t appreciate the help, but you kind of appeared like some apparition all of a sudden.”

Yoongi looks at you for a beat too long, like he’s debating whether to tell you the truth. Then he shrugs, eyes dropping to his notebook. “I guess I was just missing home. And eomma’s been on my case about coming back for the holidays this year, so…”

You don’t understand why he looks sus. His answer is casual, but unconvincing. You still don’t know if you’re buying it.

“Okay,” you say, because pressing him won’t get you anywhere. But as you move on to the next topic, you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more he’s not telling you.

“It’s funny,” he says casually, looking around the cultural center. “I didn’t think this place would look as well as it does.”

You give him a funny look. “What do you mean?”

“I just thought it’d be more… decrepit? It’s been here since we were young.”

“You’d be surprised what this town can do when it comes together. The Kim’s donated paint one year, even did all the labor. We did a fundraiser to get new musical equipment. The maknaes did all the regrouting and retiling in the bathrooms and the pantry.”

“You’re amazing.”

“It’s all them,” you say, kicking your shoe lightly on the carpeted floor.

Yoongi smirks, “you don’t know the effect you have on people, Y/N.”

Your cheeks flush.

“They may have done the brunt work, but you’re the leader that inspired them to do it,” he says, with the confidence of someone who’s known you all his life. Even if he did disappear for years. “It’s not easy keeping things alive.”

Your heart stops for a second at his words. You know he’s just talking about the center. He’s not talking about anything else. Certainly not his unspoken feelings towards you that were obviously left in the past. So you manage a curt, “Thanks, Yoongi.”

When he comes over the next day, he’s all business. He steps into your office with his notebook and a couple of sheets of paper, saying he has ideas for the lineup.

You’re expecting something good, but what he shows you takes your breath away.

“These arrangements are perfect,” you say, flipping through the pages he’s handed you. It’s been years since you’ve seen his work up close, but the brilliance of it still stuns you. “You’re still… incredible at this, Yoongi.”

“Thanks,” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck. His ears are faintly pink, and the sight tugs at something deep in your chest.

“And this…” You pause at the last page. “What’s this song?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he nods toward the piano in the corner of the room. “C’mere. I’ll show you.”

You hesitate, your heart already pounding, but you follow him. He sits down on the bench, and without a word, he gestures for you to sit next to him. The space is too small. Your shoulder brushes his, and you suddenly feel nineteen again. The last time you sat beside each other in this very bench, in this very room, is still ingrained in your memory. You wonder if he even remembers.

Yoongi’s fingers press against the keys, and the first notes ring out softly, reverently. The melody is mesmerizing, weaving through the room like smoke curling through the air. You watch his hands—elegant and sure and effortless. 

And somewhere between the rise and fall of the music, you can’t stop yourself from still wondering: Why did he leave? Why did he let so much time pass without a word? And why, now that he’s back, does it feel like you can’t breathe when he’s near?

The song ends too soon, the last note lingering in the air as Yoongi turns to you. He catches you staring, and for a long moment, neither of you says anything.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks quietly.

You swallow hard, unable to look away. “I– I don’t know.”

His gaze drops to your lips, staying there for just a moment too long. And, wait–is he leaning just a little closer?

You think he’s going to kiss you. You want him to kiss you.

But then Yoongi pulls back slightly, his expression shifting. “Hoseok’s probably waiting for you at home.”

The words douse the warmth in you like a bucket of ice cold water.

Your stomach drops, and you can’t stop the truth from falling between your lips, “No, he’s not.”

Yoongi nods once, his face unreadable again as he stands. “Still, I should go.”

You don’t stop him. You can’t. Because you have to remind yourself, he’s not here for you. You don’t even know if he wants to stay or if you could ever ask him that. If your past is an indication, Yoongi was never yours to keep and you were never enough to make him stay.

When the door closes behind him, you’re left sitting at the piano bench alone, your heart still racing and your thoughts an absolute mess.

(Flashback)

It had been a quiet winter evening, the kind of cold that numbed your cheeks and made your breath fog up in front of you. The cultural center was nearly empty, save for you and Yoongi, tucked away in the rec room where he was hunched over an old piano. The air smelled faintly of dust and wood polish, the dim lights casting long shadows across the room.

Yoongi’s fingers moved over the keys with absent precision, but the music wasn’t soft tonight. There was tension in the notes—sharp and uneven, like his thoughts were spilling out of him one chord at a time. You watched from the doorway, arms crossed, the anger in your chest building until it felt like you might burst.

“So that’s it?” you blurted out suddenly, your voice loud in the silence. “You’re just leaving?”

Yoongi’s hands stilled immediately, the final note ringing harsh and hollow before fading out. He looked up, frowning. “You knew I was leaving.”

“You didn’t say it was this soon.”

He sighed, turning back to the keys, playing a few softer notes now—like he was trying to calm both the piano and himself. “You make it sound like I’m never coming back.”

“Are you?” You stepped into the room, the accusation sharp in your tone. “Because it sure feels like you’re running, Yoongi. From this place. From… everything.”

He turned to face you fully then, his brows drawn together. “I’m not running.”

“Yes, you are!” The words came out louder than you’d intended, and Yoongi blinked, surprised at your volume. But you didn’t stop. “You’re leaving your mom, leaving me—all so you can go chase some stupid dream in the city.”

Yoongi flinched at that, his expression darkening. “It’s not stupid.”

“It feels stupid,” you shot back, your voice trembling now. “What’s wrong with staying here? With making a life here? ”

Yoongi’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with something you couldn’t quite read. “For you, maybe. But not for me.”

The words hit like a slap. You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but Yoongi wasn’t done.

“You don’t get it,” he said, his voice lower now, quieter but just as cutting. “You’ve never wanted to leave this place. You don’t need to look elsewhere to give your family a chance at a better life. You’re happy here, stuck in this tiny town where nothing ever changes. But that’s not me. I can’t stay.”

“Why not?” you asked, the question breaking out of you like a plea.

Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly. “Because I want more, okay? I want… I don’t know. I wanna be rich, I wanna be me, I wanna be something.”

“And what am I?” you whispered, the words barely audible. “Am I nothing?”

Yoongi froze, his expression faltering for the first time. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But that’s what it feels like,” you said, your voice breaking as you turned away from him. “You make it sound like staying here means I’m such a loser. Like I’m not enough.”

“That’s not—”

“No.” You spun back to face him, tears pricking at your eyes. “Just go, Yoongi. Go to Seoul. Go be something, like you keep saying. I hope it’s worth it.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You waited for him to say something—anything—that might fix the jagged edges of the fight, but he didn’t. He just stood there, his face unreadable, his hands hanging loosely at his sides.

That night, you toss and turn in your sheets, the ache in your chest refusing to let you sleep. The silence of the room feels heavy, the kind that makes every sound louder—the creak of the floor, the rustle of your blanket.

Then there’s a knock. A soft, deliberate rap on your window.

You sit up, heart already pounding, and there he is. His silhouette is familiar in a way that makes your throat tighten, hunching over the windowsill before he lands on your carpet with a dull thud.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, rolling on your bed to face away from him, hoping the distance might make it easier to breathe.

“I can’t go like this,” he says.

“It’s fine,” you reply quickly, your voice quieter than you meant.

“The hell it is.”

You hear the shuffle of fabric as something—probably his coat—falls to the floor. And then the mattress dips under his weight, and before you can steel yourself, warmth blooms behind you. His arms slide around you, pulling you against him with a kind of confidence that feels too natural for something you’ve never done before.

“What are you doing, Yoongi?” Your voice shakes, and you hate how it betrays you, how it cracks under the weight of the tears threatening to spill.

“Shh…” he murmurs, tucking you closer to him, his forehead pressing against the back of your head. “Don’t cry.”

Your breath hitches, and you choke out, “I hate you.” It’s a lie, of course, but your heart pounds against your chest, calling you out for it anyway.

Yoongi hums, his breath warm against your neck, and the sound is a smirk made audible. “No, you don’t.”

You roll over to face him, your vision blurry now. His face is close, closer than it’s been in years, and the glassiness of his eyes mirrors your own. There’s a sadness there, deep and heavy, that he doesn’t say out loud but you can feel pressing against you like a second heartbeat.

“It’d be a hell of a lot easier if I did,” you whisper, a tear slipping down your cheek.

Before you can process what’s happening, Yoongi leans forward and kisses it away, his lips brushing your skin so softly it makes you shiver. He pulls back, searching your face.

“Is it okay if I…” He trails off, the question hanging in the air.

You know the question. You answer without words, leaning in and closing the gap between you. Your lips slot against his, and it’s slow at first but it deepens quickly, your fingers tangling in his hair, his hands pulling you closer like you’re the one who’s skipping town.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breathing uneven. But he doesn’t stay still for long—his hands find your waist, sliding up beneath your shirt until they rest just beneath your ribs. His touch is warm, and your breath stutters in response.

“I want you,” you say softly, your voice barely audible.

He nods, his voice rough when he says, “Me too, baby. I want you so bad.”

The shirt is gone before you know it, leaving you exposed to the cool air, but the warmth of Yoongi’s touch quickly erases the chill. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips finding yours again he cups the underside of your breast and smooths a calloused thumb over a nipple. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

“Off,” you mumble against his mouth, tugging at his sweater. He obliges, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him like this—bare, unguarded.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

When he sinks into you that night, it feels like your world is spinning off its axis. The fullness, the warmth, the way his body feels against yours—it’s overwhelming in a way that makes you feel complete. His taste, his softness, his scent, you’re drowning in everything Yoongi and you’re not sure you want to resurface.

“Yoongi,” you breathe out, air sucked out of your lungs as he bottoms out.

“Shit,” he grunts, voice raw as he stares at the area where your bodies have connected. “You feel so good.”

“Baby…” you test the name on your lips, wishing this wasn’t the first, and likely last. You plant your hands on his shoulders. “Go slow.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, and he does—slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to memorize every moment, every sound, every gasp, every single feeling.

It’s a little painful at first, the stretch of his cock against your walls pulls a soft whimper from your lips. Yoongi notices immediately—of course he does. His fingers slide gently along your jaw, tilting your face toward him as his mouth finds yours. He kisses you slowly, tongue sweeping against yours in a way that steals your focus, drowning out every inconsequential ache.

Soon, there is nothing else but bliss. Pleasure has bloomed full force as he fucks into you.

His mouth moves to your neck, teeth sharp as he clamps down your soft skin, no doubt wanting to leave his mark. It’s a little cruel, you would think days after when a Yoongi-shaped hole suddenly forms in your heart, but tonight, you revel in the fact that he wants to claim you as his.

“Baby,” you plead. God, why do you sound so desperate?

Something builds and builds inside you, threatening to explode and you’re afraid, so fucking terrified that you won’t find every single piece of yourself when you shatter.

“Yoongi…” you call his name again, the storm in you gaining strength, even though the pace of his thrusts are unchanged.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks you half-heartedly, busy pushing your tits upward to capture a nipple in his mouth and sucking gently.

“Ahh, shit.” That’s nice. You love it but you need more. “Can you go faster?”

“Okay, yeah,” he adjusts his stance, slipping out of you momentarily, and you feel your juices seeping out of your cunt and onto your sheets. “Can you maybe raise your leg higher?”

You do so, holding the back of your knees, opening up to him wide and wanton, shame out the door and into the flurry of snow outside.

He lines himself up on your slick entrance, this time slipping straight inside without much resistance. He thrusts again, hitting you deeper and better at this angle.

Your eyes meet as he bucks his hips into you over and over. Your eyelids grow heavier with every passing second, but you fight to keep them open, desperate to hold onto this moment. You want to memorize him—every detail, every fleeting movement. The way his hair falls, framing those sharp, feline eyes that hold something soft beneath their intensity. The way his pink, pillowy lips part slightly, his sinful tongue skimming the corner of his mouth. He looks tender yet determined, his focus unwavering as he works to make this good for you. There’s a gentleness to it, a care that leaves your chest aching even as your body melts under his touch.

His hand makes its way down to where your sweaty bodies are linked, thumb searching your clit against your slippery folds. Has he done this before? Because how can he know that the wiggle of his single digit is enough for you to lose your goddamn mind. You want to scream, at the risk of getting caught by your eomma, but you can’t care about that right now. The pads of his thumb brushes over you, pulling a gasp from your lips as your senses blur, overwhelmed by him—his touch, his heat, the way he seems to know exactly how to unravel you.

“Take it, baby,” he urges, voices as reverent as his every movement.

Soon you’re keening at the pressure on your nub and the friction against your inner walls. Your pleasure crests without warning, body arching towards him as you ride out your orgasm.

“God you’re so tight, shit I’m about to—“

A few sloppy thrusts, a stutter in his breath and a stretched out groan. You close your eyes, every feeling increasing in intensity, and suddenly you’re empty, you hear a grunt, and his warm cum spills on your pussy lips, sliding towards your ass.

It’s messy. He’s sweaty. You’re spent.

The feeling is unfamiliar, the sensations coursing through your body strangely new. Yet, it’s the whirlwind of jumbled thoughts in your mind that unsettles you the most.

Afterward, you lie tangled together, your head resting against his chest. The weight of the moment feels too much, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out: “I wish I could keep you.”

Yoongi tenses, his hand coming up to rest against your back. “I’m sorry,” he whispers as he presses a kiss against your hair. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The next morning, you woke to find that Yoongi was gone.

It wasn’t until two days later, when you finally found the courage to sit at the piano in the rec room, that you found the note. It was tucked carefully inside the piano bench, folded neatly and written in Yoongi’s familiar handwriting: Don’t forget.

As if you could. He’s made it impossible not to.

(End of Flashback)

It starts with a phone call from your mom. “Yang-hee invited us over for dinner tonight. Isn’t that nice?”

“Huh?”

“Dinner with Yang-hee and Yoongi,” she says, unbothered by your fake disinterest. “You’re coming too, obviously. It’s been years since we’ve all sat down together, and you know how Yang-hee is. She’s been so excited her son’s back.”

It’s not like you can say no, so you don’t.

Later that evening, you find yourself standing on the porch of the Min’s, a whole casserole of your mom’s homemade japchae in your hands. 

It’s not the same house. It’s still built on the same street, but it’s completely renovated, extended, pimped the hell out. The spoils of Yoongi’s successful career are definitely visible in the way their mansion (I guess you can’t call it a bungalow anymore) stands proud.

Yoongi opens the wide wooden door, dressed in a festive green and red Christmas sweater and white pants. His orange hair is a little messy, and he greets you with that cocky little smirk as if he doesn’t have a goofy Santa Claus headband perched on top of this head.

“Hello, Mrs. Y/L/N.” he turns to your mom, who gives him her sweetest smile. She’s always really loved him.

“How have you been, Yoongi my dear?”

“I’m doing well. You’re looking even younger than when I last saw you.”

He’s so full of shit. But your mom is none the wiser as she breezes past you both with a giggle, already chatting animatedly with Yoongi’s mother, leaving you standing in the doorway with him.

“You came,” he says, finally taking the casserole from you.

“Of course I came,” you shoot back, trying to sound unaffected. “Consider this the dinner I owe you.”

He shakes his head, “Nice try.”

“Nice headband.”

“Hoseok not coming?” he asks a little too casually as he leads you to the kitchen.

“I didn’t know the invitation was extended to him.”

He shrugs. “I don’t think eomma will mind.” Then he pauses, looking at you with something unreadable in his eyes. “I–umm. It’s nice to have you here.”

It’s so simple and yet hits like a punch to the gut. 

Dinner was sublime. The table is covered in a festive red cloth, tiny gold stars scattered across its surface. Platters of food crowd every inch—kimchi stew steaming in a clay pot, neatly sliced rolls of gimbap, and bowls of your eomma’s japchae glistening with sesame oil. A plate of sugar-dusted cookies sits at the center, shaped like Christmas trees and snowflakes. But the best part is that it feels like old times—full of laughter, familiar stories, and his mother fussing over both you and Yoongi. Your mom talks about the concert, and you catch Yoongi listening quietly, a faint smile playing at the edges of his lips. There’s something grounding about being here, the four of you around the table, like no time has passed at all.

After dinner, Yoongi’s mom insists on showing your mom something in the kitchen, leaving you alone with him. 

“You still remember where my room is?” he asks behind his mug of eggnog.

“Please.” You push your chair backwards, standing up. “I practically lived here when we were kids.”

So his old room hasn’t changed much. Despite the makeover from outside, the expansion of the living room and dining areas, you guess Yoongi had asked his eomma to preserve this room like a little time capsule of sorts. The walls are still plastered with faded hip hop posters, plus an SNSD one that made you unreasonably jealous way back when. 

You point to it with a laugh. “What was your favorite line from that song?”

“Listen, boy! My first love story!” he replies without missing a beat and you both erupt into giggles.

Your eyes dart around a bit more, and you find scribbles from years ago. On the far corner, your handwriting is etched faintly into the paint, and you feel a pang of nostalgia. You step closer, brushing your fingertips over your names and the date. It was the night of your first kiss.

Yoongi’s voice comes from behind you, soft and steady. “Vandal.”

“You let me,” you try for casual, though your throat feels oddly tight at the memory. “I didn’t think you’d still have it here.”

He doesn’t answer, and you turn, glancing at the study desk and there’s the old notebook you gave him for his seventeenth birthday. The one you’d filled with doodles and little prompts, telling him to write music “so the world would hear it.”

“You kept this, too?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

Yoongi shrugs like it’s no big deal. “You gave it to me. Why wouldn’t I?”

Something about that makes your chest ache. You shake it off quickly, turning back to him with a small grin.

Later, the two of you end up on the porch, mugs of whisky-spiked eggnog between you, your breath clouding the cold air. You’re both a little tipsy, maybe drunk even, the edges of this nostalgic night already fuzzy around the edges.

You tilt your head toward him. “Yoongi-yah… you got a girlfriend back home?”

Yoongi glances at you, one eyebrow raised. “No.”

You’re surprised by the sharp flicker of relief in your chest. You try to play it off, swirling the cup in your hands. “Oh? Why not?”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment too long, before he finally says, “Because the girl I wanted didn’t wait for me.”

Your breath catches as he looks straight into your soul. You pull your sweater tighter against your frame. “Yoongi. You can’t say shit like that,” you admonish him, but your voice doesn’t sound as strong as you want it to. 

He says nothing, just watches you with that quiet intensity that always intrigued you. Then, slowly, he tips his chin upward.

You follow his gaze, your stomach dropping when you see it: a sprig of mistletoe dangling above you, its leaves swaying gently in the breeze. He knows it’s there—hell, he may have been the one to hang it.

Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. Why would he even—

Yoongi grins faintly, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t lean closer, doesn’t close the gap. He just lets the moment hang there, full of unsaid words and unanswered questions.

“What am I going to do with you…” you shake your head, admonishing him again.

“Honestly, anything you want…” He shrugs, his smirk softening into something else. “Goodnight,” he says quietly, standing up and stepping back inside the house, leaving you sitting on the porch with your thoughts spinning and your heart completely out of control.

That night, you lie in bed staring at your phone, your interactions looping in your mind.

You don’t know what you’re doing when you pull up Hoseok’s contact, but the text you send is short and simple:

You: Can we talk?

It doesn’t take long for Hoseok to call back. You swipe to answer it.

“You finally breaking up with me?” he asks with a giggle.

You groan, “Stop.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s been fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Best I’ve ever had.”

“Aw, quit the bullshit.” 

“It’s true!” he claims, laughing slightly. “Tell him if he doesn’t take care of you, I can literally throw his ass in the slammer. Make up some compounded traffic violation or whatever...”

You can’t help but laugh, even as your stomach twists uncomfortably.

“You’re insane,” you tell him, but you know Hoseok’s words will stay with you.

Because now you’re left with no more distractions. No more easy answers. Just the weight of Yoongi’s return and the question you’re not ready to ask yourself: what if this is finally your time?

You don’t see it happen, not all at once.

There’s no single moment where you look at Min Yoongi and realize you’re slipping back into something that feels alarmingly like love—just tiny, inconsequential moments strung together like fairy lights on the cultural center’s drafty ceiling.

Yoongi spending hours at the piano, fingers moving effortlessly over the keys as the children’s choir sings, while you sneak glances at him.

Yoongi, elbow-deep in sheet music, his sleeves pushed up, hair falling into his eyes as he concentrates.

Yoongi joking around with the maknaes like they’ve known each other all their lives.

Yoongi handing you an americano every afternoon like clockwork, his only explanation being, “You’re too grumpy without caffeine.”

It’s nothing, really. Nothing you can’t brush off.

Except when the three stooges notice and start taunting you relentlessly.

“The maknaes won’t stop teasing me,” you tell him one afternoon, watching as he scribbles something onto his notebook. “Jungkook especially.”

Yoongi doesn’t look up. “About what?”

“About you,” you say, huffing dramatically, though your heart thuds a little at admitting it out loud. “They think you—” 

Now Yoongi glances up, dark eyes fixing on you. “I what?”

You wave a hand vaguely. “You look at me.”

Yoongi blinks, clearly holding back a smirk. “I look at you?”

“They make it sound like you’re composing an epic romance ballad in your head every time you glance my way,” you say, curious to see how he’d react.

“Hmm.” Yoongi taps his pen against his notebook. His gaze doesn’t waver. “And what if I am?”

You freeze, caught entirely off guard. “You’re not.”

He shrugs lightly, looking back at his notes. “If you say so.”

And just like that, the conversation ends, but you’re left staring at the back of his head like an idiot.

You’re closing up the center after a particularly grueling rehearsal when you hear a voice in the piano room. It's Yoongi.

You pause just outside the door, catching the tail end of his conversation. His voice is low, clipped. “I already told you—it’s not that simple. Just… hold off until I figure it out, okay?”

There’s a pause, and then he sighs, frustrated. “Yes. I’ll take care of it. Don’t contact them directly.”

Before you can process the tone of his voice, he spots you in the doorway and quickly ends the call, stuffing his phone into his pocket. “Everything okay?” he asks, his expression neutral. But something in his eyes feels off.

“Hey,” you say finally, stepping into the room. “You hungry?” The words are out before you can stop them. 

“A little.”

“I still owe you dinner,” you remind him. “You want to come over?”

For a moment, Yoongi just looks at you, his expression unreadable. Then he nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

At your place, you keep it simple. You’re too tired for anything elaborate, so you throw together a few bowls of rice, leftover stew, wagyu cubes you tossed in a pan, and whatever banchan you can find in your fridge. Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind—he sits at your table with his sleeves rolled up, his beer bottle half-empty, watching you with a faint smile as you fuss over the food, refilling his plate once in a while.

“You don’t have to do all that,” he says. “It’s just me.”

“Don’t get spoiled,” you shoot back, setting a bowl in front of him. “This is a one-time thing.”

“Okay. I’ll take it.”

Dinner feels like something you’ve once yearned for especially during the first few years after he left. You talk about little things—how rehearsals are going, Shelby’s stubborn refusal to follow him anywhere, the little quirks of your team. Yoongi listens more than he talks, but when he speaks, it’s thoughtful, like he’s been holding the words in until they’re worth saying.

At some point, you find yourself finally telling him about the lie you blurted out the day he showed up.

“So you remember when I told you my boyfriend was a cop?” you say, poking at your rice with your chopsticks.

Yoongi’s lips twitch. “Yeah.”

“Well…” You hesitate. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Why? Didn’t realize you were dating Hoseok.”

“I’m not!” you say quickly. “I mean… Hoseok and I are… friends. But he’s not my boyfriend.”

“What’s with the pause?”

Your cheeks are on fire. You should have just kept it smooth, but your poker face is crap.

“Oooh Hoseok-ie, huh?” Yoongi’s expression is full of mischief, with a playful tone as he teases you. 

You groan, covering your face. “We just, like to keep each other company, sometimes. But not anymore. It’s over. So over.”

His eyes narrow on you, a smirk on his lips. “Okay.” He says.

You glance up, flustered. “Okay?”

To your surprise, he doesn’t push further. Instead, he studies you for a long moment, his smile softening. “I’m glad you’re not with Hoseok,” he says simply.

The words hit harder than they should. You look down at your bowl, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

The night you hit your first funding goal feels electric. Outside, the snow falls softly, blanketing the world in white, while the glow of Christmas lights spills through the frosted windows of the cultural center. Inside, the air hums with celebration, the kind of unrestrained joy that feels almost too big for the room.

The office is a whirlwind of holiday chaos. Jimin’s sporting a Santa hat, twirling like a figure skater in the middle of the room. Taehyung is wrapped in tinsel like a human Christmas tree, tossing candy canes to whoever will catch them. “All I Want for Christmas Is You” blares from the speakers, almost drowned out by the sound of laughter echoing through the halls. The air smells faintly of peppermint, hot chocolate, and the faint spice of cinnamon—Taehyung’s candy stash has clearly been raided, by Jungkook.

You check your laptop one last time, and there it is: the donation total, glaring on the screen like a miracle. The sight makes your stomach flip in disbelief and relief.

“Do you know what this means?” you yell, spinning in circles as Jimin grabs your hand and cheers beside you. “We might actually do this. We might actually save the center!”

“FUCK CAPITALISM!” Taehyung hollers from the corner, pumping his fist in the air, and you can’t help but laugh.

“We’re halfway there!” you add breathlessly, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. “This is insane.”

Jungkook whoops in victory, charging across the room and tackling you and Jimin into a clumsy, giggling group hug.

Amidst the chaos, your gaze drifts toward the far end of the room. Yoongi stands by the piano, arms crossed as he leans against it, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. He doesn’t say a word, but the way his eyes meet yours sends warmth spreading through your chest, as if he’s silently celebrating right along with you.

“Be right back,” you say, slipping away from the others before you can think better of it.

Yoongi doesn’t move as you approach, but his smile lingers. “You’re happy.”

“Of course I’m happy,” you say, unable to keep the grin off your face. “We might actually do this, Yoongi.”

“I always believed in you,” he replies softly.

Before you know what you’re doing, you close the gap between you and throw your arms around him. “This is amazing!”

Yoongi lets out a startled huff of air as you collide into him, his hands instinctively finding your waist to steady you. “Careful,” he says.

Except, suddenly, you’re both off balance, and the next thing you know, you’re falling—collapsing together in an awkward heap on the office floor.

“Oh my God,” you groan, sprawled half on top of him. “Are you okay?”

Yoongi blinks up at you, his expression caught somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Fuuuuuck. My back.”

“I’m sorry–shit!” You scramble to sit up, but his hands tighten gently at your waist, holding you in place.

“Don’t move,” he says softly, eyes just opening from a grimace.

Your breath catches. The laughter dies in your throat as you realize how close you are—close enough to see the faint flush at the tips of his ears, the way his dark feline eyes are fixed on you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“Yoongi…”

You don’t know what you’re going to say, but you don’t get the chance to figure it out. Because suddenly, he leans up, closing the distance, and kisses you.

It’s a simple peck at first—chaste, like he’s testing if you’d retreat. But you don’t.

He catches the pout on your lips and smirks. This time, he fixes his grip on your waist, rolls you onto your back, positioning himself above you.

Before you can react, his lips are on yours again, slotting against your plush seamlessly like it belongs there. You kiss him back, of course you do, your fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater as the world narrows to just this—him and you.

You don’t exactly remember the feeling when you kissed for the first time in the snow-covered streets or the second in your childhood bedroom, but this third time...

It’s a feeling you don’t want to end—

But, out of nowhere, you hear unmistakable sounds of whoops and hollers and when you peel your eyes open, confetti rains down on both of you.

“What the—” you gasp, jerking back as colored paper sticks to your hair and shoulders.

Above you, the maknaes are causing a ruckus, Jungkook clutching an actual pail (like where did that even come from?), while Jimin looks dramatically at the two of you on the floor, wiping pretend tears.

Suddenly, piano music is added to the mix as Taehyung plays some Christmassy tune you can’t remember the title of because there’s just so much shit happening all at once.

You glare at them. “Yah! Get out of here! You’re ruining the moment!”

But they’re not listening, clearly high off the adrenaline from the funding milestone, but also might just be high in general, because they’re already breaking into exaggerated oohs and ahhs, chanting, “Hyung and noona sitting in a tree—”

Yoongi, to his credit, hasn’t moved. He’s still on the floor, his face redder than the poinsettias decorating the cultural center, but his eyes are locked on you. He’s embarrassed—mortified, even—but there’s a quiet determination in the way he looks at you, like nothing could shake him now.

“Jungkook-ah, Jimin-ah, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi roll calls, his voice low but firm.

The maknaes pause, mid-tease, blinking at him.

“Leave.”

Jimin smirks, nudging Jungkook. “Should we?”

Jungkook shrugs dramatically. “I mean, they’re not even getting up…”

Taehyung’s head appears between the two, his arms resting on each of their shoulders. “I think–”

You point toward the door, scowling. “GO.”

With one last round of laughter, they finally fuck off.

The silence settles quickly after they’re gone, and for a moment, all you can hear is the sound of your own breathing. You glance back at Yoongi, honestly not knowing what to expect.

He’s gnawing at his lip. You reach up and touch your finger on his mouth, shaking your head so he releases his plush that’s gone red from his teeth pulling on the skin.

Finally, he speaks: “Go out with me.”

Your heart stutters, the words catching you off guard. “What?”

“You heard me,” he tilts his head. “Say yes.”

You stare at him, your pulse thrumming wildly, and there’s only one correct answer to give.

“Yes,” you whisper, your lips curving into a shy smile. “Okay.”

Yoongi exhales, his shoulders relaxing slightly, and you can’t help but notice the faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Well,” you say, brushing confetti off his sweater, “The maknaes were right after all.”

“Don’t even give those fuckers any credit right now.” He chuckles softly, his hand slipping into yours. “They’re lucky I didn’t throw that pail at them.”

For a moment, the two of you just sit there on the confetti-strewn floor, your hands intertwined, and it feels like this is your second chance to get it right after everything that fell apart before.

Your Christmas encore.

:)

A/N: Happy holidays, Yoongi's ho ho hos! How did we like this first part???

Coming in Part 2: - Why did Yoongi really come back to town? - Is Hoseok as nonchalant about calling off the arrangement as he seems?

We’ll find out soon!!! See you in the comments.

As always, thank you for reading this, you lovely, beautiful human xo Comments and Reblogs are always loved and appreciated. 🙂

Permanent Taglist (Part 1):

@wonh0oe @hyukaluve @glossdebut @kiki-zb @kookiewithluv

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

@aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells @butterymin

@eve1633455 @baechugff @lilkittenjenjen @wobblewobble822 @coffeedepressionsoup

@futuristicenemychaos @jadestonedaeho7 @granataepfelchen @whoa-jo @annyeongbitch7

@chimmisbae @sexytholland @idkjustlovingbts @kpophosblog @tinyelfperson

@yoongicatagenda @codeinebelle @parapiop7 @diame93 @janeelizabeth1216

@withmuchluv-tannie @abadiimm @angellekookie

[soft-beams]

you and me (let's make something great)

author's note: so i had an idea, and originally, it was gonna be a ficlet mainly focused on debauchery. BUT THEN my brain decided to turn it into something longer with plot, so here we are. it's very soft in the first bit but don't be fooled, it gets filthy as it progresses. please enjoy!

cw: gp!vi, afab!reader, pregnancy talk, breeding kink, dirty talk, nsfw 🔞 (primarily in the second part)

wc: 3.3k

dividers: @/cafekitsune

part i: let's talk about it

There’s always been talk of starting a family.

Kids with the white picket fence and a garden large enough for them to run around. Maybe a dog or two and a cat because you’ve always spoken about how much you want one. It’d be everything that’s so simple and expected of a family, something so ordinary that it’s almost laughable. But you and Vi never had the opportunity to experience what the ordinary family is.

She grew up an orphan with only her sister by her side, only able to survive due to Vander’s kindness.

You had your own set of problems; a family that didn’t listen or could listen but choose not to.

So to have a family where you can give your children the life you weren’t able to have, that means the whole world and more.

Vi toys around with the idea of asking you again, about the possibility of starting your family as soon as possible. You’ve been together for ten years and married for two, and life has never been as perfect as this.

You’re both doing well at work, bills are being paid on time and there’s even some savings in your joint account. Even savings to potentially look into starting something if that is what you want.

You’re swaying around the kitchen, speakers blasting your playlist as you cook up dinner for tonight. You’ve settled on a simple pasta dish, warm and spicy with delicious herbs. The sauce is bubbling away on the stove and your hips follow the stir of your wooden spoon. You bring the spoon up to your lips, blow gently before having a taste. A hum leaves your lips as your eyes flutter shut, pleased with what you’re creating.

Vi’s enchanted by you and one might call her silly, to be captivated by you merely making dinner. But it’s the mere act of it, the domesticity of it all and how you show your love through everything you do. Even if it’s cooking a dish that you’ve both eaten a hundred times before.

That’s what being in love is and Vi is greedy to share that with someone who’s both her and you.

“Taste this for me?” You ask, facing where she’s sat at the kitchen island. Vi’s quick to hop off her stool and make her way towards you. Her arms encircle you the moment she gets close and your smile brightens at the touch. You lift the spoon up to her lips and even though she knows it’s delicious, Vi goes in for a taste. She mimics your pleased hum from before, swaying you to the slow beat of the song that now plays.

“Babe, you crush it every time,” Vi reveres, causing you to roll your eyes fondly. “How do you do it? Were you a famous chef in your past life or what?”

“It’s pasta sauce,” you respond, voice deadpan but expression vibrant. “The same pasta sauce we’ve been making for five years and can make with our eyes closed.” You turn around in her arms so you can attend to the sauce, Vi taking this opportunity to latch onto your back. She nuzzles into the curve of your neck, pressing a kiss into the sensitive spot there just so she can feel you shiver. “It’s hardly Michelin star worthy.” You pause. “Wait, can dishes be given Michelin stars?”

“Fuck if I know,” Vi murmurs, hooking her chin over your shoulder and settling in. From here, she can see a pot full of water boiling for pasta and the sauce thickening nicely in its pan. “So I want to talk to you about something.”

“We can’t go to the water park next week,” you say, amused. “We’ve had this discussion like six times and as much as I would like to go and hit the wave pool, there’s no—”

The laughter that bursts out of Vi’s mouth is enough to hurt her chest. But it doesn’t stop her from cackling, burying her head into your shoulder in an attempt to muffle how loud she is. She can feel the shaking of your body and hear your lovely laughter as you join her, fully leaning into her chest for support.

“No, you idiot,” Vi manages to say through her chuckles. “Oh fuck you, this was supposed to be a serious thing.”

“Why do you think I said what I said?” You retort playfully and Vi falls even more in love with you, as if that’s even possible. “But tell me what’s on your mind, baby. What’s going on?”

Vi takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second to gather herself. When she opens them, you’re turning off the burner for the sauce and reaching for the fettuccine to the side. Just as you’re pouring the pasta into the bubbling water, Vi’s thoughts spill out.

“I want to have a family with you.”

You go still for a moment, your arms poised above the boiling water with the empty pasta box in your hands. Vi’s unable to see your face but she isn’t necessarily worried about your reaction. It’s a conversation that you’ve had multiple times over the span of your relationship, but today is where you start taking steps towards putting it in action.

“Well, yes,” you start, placing the pasta box back on the counter. Then you’re turning in her arms so you’re facing each other again, your eyes peering into hers. “We’ve spoken countless times about this.” You smooth your hands over the rounds of her shoulders, your face soft. “I’m still very much onboard with this because I want to have a family with you too. But I’m guessing you want to talk about a timeline.”

Vi nods, momentarily speechless because you always just get her, even without her having to say anything. She pulls you away from the stove to sit you on one of the kitchen island’s stools. She notes how you eye the pasta and makes a mental note to attend to the pot after five minutes.

“We always did say that we’d really start considering it once we’ve gotten our lives sorted,” Vi says, standing between your thighs. “And I’d say that our lives are pretty solid. We’re no longer in debt and we’ve got a decent amount saved away.” Her fingers play with your hair, causing you to lean into her touch. “So I thought that now would be a good time to try.” Vi then shakes her head. “Obviously, it’s your choice because it’s your body and I’d never want to pressure you into doing anything because of me and—”

Vi doesn’t notice she’s rambling until you’re pressing your finger against her lips, fond amusement colouring your features.

“I married a good woman,” you say, so tender that Vi feels her heart swell so much that it hurts. It presses against her ribs, pushes up on her lungs making her breathless. It makes her cling to you, hiding her head into the curve of your shoulder. Your hands come around to run soothingly down her back and she melts. “I know it's my choice, baby. You've never made me feel like it wasn't.”

Despite Vi knowing that, the relief that hits her is cool and instant. It's always nice to hear that she isn't pressuring you; that she's allowing you to make your own choices regardless of what she wants.

“I've always wanted to have children with you,” you continue, still running soothing patterns down her back. “That's something that has never changed and probably never will.” You then lean back and Vi's graced with the excitement in your beautiful eyes. “I imagine a little kid who's a mixture of me and you. Maybe my hair and your eyes or vice versa.”

“I hope they get your personality,” Vi says softly. “That they get your kindness and empathy. Your patience and wisdom.”

You laugh quietly, closing your eyes to hide from the blinding of Vi's earnest gaze. You're embarrassed, she can tell, and that makes this moment all the sweeter.

“Well, I hope they get your strength and conviction,” you reply, tilting your head up so the tip of your nose catches the softness of Vi's cheek. “That they get your loyalty and ambition. Your sympathy and empathy.”

Vi's cheeks burn at the compliments you dress her in. Compliments that you would call truths because that's how you see her. Even under all the mess and mistakes, you see the diamonds that rest beneath the dirt.

She'll never understand why someone as special as you forever wants to be with her.

“So…what are you thinking?” Vi asks, eager to see where your head’s at. She watches as you purse your lips with a hum, eyes rolling upwards to stare at the ceiling in thought. Then you’re looking back at her with a smile and that’s how Vi finds her answer.

“Really?” Vi has to double check, to be sure that you’re both on the same page; that this is what you want to do from this moment.

“I’ve been wanting to suggest it for a while but—Violet!” You exclaim out of surprise, laughter startled from you when Vi pulls you in for a tight hug. But your arms are wrapping around her instantly, holding on with a solid grip.

“Thank you,” Vi whispers into your neck, planting a delicate kiss over your pulse. “Thank you so much.”

“No need to thank me,” you say quietly, returning the kiss to the curve of her ear. “I want this too.”

Vi nods and gives you a firm squeeze before pulling away, but not too far so she can still keep you in her arms. She’s so overwhelmed; there’s so much she wants to say but all of it is tied at the back of her throat. The words aren’t coherent but they have meaning and Vi will try all she can to convey how precious that meaning is.

“Okay so,” you begin after you both sit in relaxed silence for a while. “I love you so much and you’re my everything but if that pasta’s mushy, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You lie,” Vi replies, nuzzling at your cheek. “You love me too much to hate me.”

“But I love pasta more,” you tease, your soft laughs muted by the gentle press of Vi’s lips against yours.

The pasta has gone soft but you don’t seem to mind, all too distracted by Vi's sweet kisses.

“So you’re officially trying for kids now?”” Jinx says one afternoon in the small cafe they often frequent. It's raining outside and there's a chill in the air that seeps into your bones and makes you want to stay in bed. That's where Vi wishes she was now, all curled up underneath the sheets with you.

“Yeah, we had a proper talk about it a few days ago,” Vi says. “Not that all the other talks weren't proper but our plans didn't have a start date.” She swirls the remaining dregs of coffee in her mug. “Now we're both ready and soon there's gonna be a kid in the picture.”

Jinx hums, taking a sip of whatever iced concoction she's gotten today. “I mean, it's a big thing,” she says around her straw. “Bringing a small human into the world. Plus babies are kinda gross with their uncontrollable bowel movements.” Her nose scrunches up. “Not to mention the crying and screaming and inability to talk for the first two years.”

Vi shrugs. “Yeah, but I don't give a shit about any of that.”

“Well, duh. Because you're with someone who's gonna make it worthwhile,” Jinx replies matter-of-factly. “It's kind of like being in love with the person of your dreams makes you more tolerable to things. Shocker.”

“You're already falling into your Cynical Aunt role.” Vi says, deadpan but smiles when Jinx chuckles.

“Don't get me wrong, I'm gonna love the shit out of that little goober,” Jinx says strongly. “Gonna be the best auntie in the world. Much better than Caitlyn or Mel, that's for sure.”

Vi makes a doubtful expression, an eyebrow raised, and raises her hands to placate when Jinx aims her butter knife at her.

“No, you'll be great,” Vi tells her and despite their jokes, she means it. She sees how Jinx is with kids; how she may not seem interested at first but then slowly opens up. Not to say that she connects with every child but when Jinx cares, she cares with her entire heart. So Vi knows that her children will be loved.

Jinx eyes her and takes another sip of her drink before saying, “There's something on your mind.”

Vi huffs. “How can you tell?”

“I'm your sister, we grew up together,” Jinx lists off. “I mean, ignore the fact that we didn't talk for seven years but I know you.” She finishes off her glass and pushes it to the side. “What's going on?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Vi chuckles, running a hand through her hair, before leaning back in her seat.

“I just…worry that I may not be a good parent.” She confesses after a moment.

“Why?” Jinx asks straight away, not giving Vi the time to wallow too deeply.

“Because…I mean, look what happened with us,” Vi says, gesturing between them. “I left you alone for seven years over a misunderstanding that took ages to fix. I was supposed to be there for you when our parents died. When Vander died and I…” Vi stops for a second, a heavy knot in her throat. “...I wasn't there and I'm just scared that I'm gonna fuck all of this up.”

Jinx stares at her for a bit, her expression unreadable, before she gives a big eye roll.

“You're so stupid,” she says loudly.

“Gee thanks.” Vi replies.

“You're so stupid because I don't think you realise how good of a big sister you were,” Jinx continues. “How good of a big sister you are. Life sucked for us for a long time, Vi. Especially after our parents and Vander died. Then the hits kept on coming and we had no say in how we survived for a long time. Yes, we got separated and yes, it made me so fucking mad at you, but you came back for me.” She takes a deep breath. “If we could redo the past, we would. But we can't. But things have been fixed and you've shown me time and time how capable you are.” She then laughs. “I mean, you've been in a committed relationship for twelve years, Vi. Most people don't last up to the five month mark.”

Vi tries to ignore the sting behind her eyes, the tears that slowly blur her vision.

“Plus you guys are totally in love,” Jinx says, a slight smile curving her lips. “It's absolutely nauseating but it's also kinda beautiful. You'll make a really good parent, Vi. You got the best of mom and our dads. And your partner kicks ass and is one of the best people I've ever met so…” Jinx shrugs. “Your children are gonna be so lucky to have you two as parents.”

There’s then a lull that falls between them and Vi's trying so hard not to cry. So she swallows back the knot in her throat, chasing it away with her last bit of coffee.

“Saying all of that must have driven you nuts,” Vi jokes weakly, reaching out to give Jinx's hand a grateful squeeze.

“Yeah, I feel gross and need to take a shower,” Jinx jokes in return, weak too and she squeezes Vi's hand just as tight. “Consider that your birthday and Christmas gift.”

Vi laughs loudly, eyes crinkling and mouth wide with the joy she feels.

“Fair enough.” She concedes, knowing damn well Jinx will surprise her with a homemade gift regardless.

“...So, gonna go home and blast your baby batter into—?”

“Jinx.”

A week or two pass after those conversations are held. Life maintains its norm, leaving you and Vi to continue your existence in its blissful way. It's comforting as it is confusing, because Vi knows that everything’s on the table now. Left wide open for the both of you to bask at.

Vi waits for your move, watches you with a keen eye as you drift throughout the days. She cooks the both of you dinner every other night, picks you up from work every day without fail and holds you close at night so you fall asleep. She does what she knows to do, does it because it has that essence of normalcy.

But that doesn't stop the urges from arising. It doesn't halt the need that bubbles in her stomach every time she sees you. It's overpowering, overwhelmingly so, and Vi fails to understand it until one late evening.

You're curled up beneath Vi’s arm as a movie plays on the television. It's a standard comedy, nothing utterly hilarious but enough to pull a few chuckles from both of you. Vi has hit optimal relaxation, all loose and soft due to you being so close. She can smell the scent of your body wash, drops her face into your hair so she can inhale what lies there. Your shampoo and something so uniquely you.

Her focus has since shifted from the movie, all of it on you as she notes how you’re barely paying attention to the screen. You’ve got this faraway look in your eyes, seemingly lost in thought and Vi wonders what's going through that pretty head of yours.

Then you do something unexpected; you shift a hand towards your stomach and…gently rub at it. The arc of your hand graceful as you follow the slope of your covered flesh. It looks soothing, similar to how you rub Vi's muscles on the days the flare-up of old injuries is too much. But it's also different and Vi's quick to notice it; she sees how your hand comes to lay at your lower stomach and—

Oh.

Vi's suddenly feeling a bit flustered.

A minute goes by, slowly ticking, and Vi tries not to give herself away. She tries not to reveal how the simple act of you rubbing your stomach has her heating up. How she's instantly imagining your stomach round with her child and the way your hand would look caressing the bump.

So tender, so gentle.

Something hot within Vi stirs, causing her to grow a bit restless. The movie captures her attention for a bit, but it hardly does much. Especially when you're pressed into her, still rubbing at your stomach and fuck, her sweatpants feel a little tight.

Because it isn't only about your stomach growing with life inside you. It's also about the transformation you'll grow through. How you'll get softer, how your scent will become a little milkier. How your breasts will swell in preparation and how you'd be a stunning image of how you belong to.

Vi.

Because it's Vi who'll do that to you; it's her who will fuck you full until you can't take anymore. It's Vi who will come and come and come in you until it takes and she sees the fruits of her labour.

It's her who'll…who'll breed you until you’re tongue's tied and your body's a wreck.

So beautiful and pilant and hers.

“...Vi?” Your voice calls her home, like a siren's song, and she's retrieved from her debauched thoughts. “Vi, sweetheart, the movie's done.”

Vi blinks at the television, the credits rolling down the dark screen. How long had she been spacing out for.

“Oh,” she says lamely and you chuckle, standing up from the couch. You tug at her arm, smiling tiredly, as you tilt your body towards the bedroom.

“I'm sleepy,” you say, giving one more tug before Vi’s standing on her feet. “Let's go to bed, we've got work in the morning.”

“Uh huh,” is all Vi can manage as she allows you to lead her to your bedroom.

Something new has clicked in her brain.

Something deep and primal at its core.

...She cannot talk to Jinx about this.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟜 – 𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕟 ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕔 (𝓕𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓓𝓻𝓸𝓹)

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

Part 1 𝜗𝜚 Part 2 𝜗𝜚 Part 3

𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 3 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓭 12/27

𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚞𝚣𝚣𝙲𝚞𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Warning: language, verbal + physical fighting, graphic violence, blood mentioned, pet names, jealous!rafe, kissing, angst, manipulation, multiple povs, cheating, SMUT warning later

📖 After meeting Rafe's (CurtainBangs!) twin brother Cam (BuzzCut!) for the first time, Rafe gives you a proposal you can't help but accept: sharing you. What Rafe didn't expect was his jealousy… And what you didn't expect was a text from Cam a week later wanting to see you again. Rafe told you it was ‘okay’ if Cam stopped by. During the Skype convo, you realize that Rafe has no idea that his brother is there… Cam placed the original call. Rafe thinks you’re alone, and you leave it that way

Reader’s POV:

You glance at Cam, his wide eyes on yours, reflective and remorseful, but his face only adds to your anxiety. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. You reach for Rafe’s jersey and your panties, tugging them back on as tears well in your eyes.

“Cam, why did you—why did you do that?” You whisper, your voice is shaky with nerves. “Why would you pretend to be Rafe? Why would you lie to me like that?”

He shrugs defeatedly. “I wasn’t thinking…”

“You weren’t,” you whimper, avoiding his gaze as you tug on some sleep shorts, stumbling slightly as your body trembles. The weight of your deceit is suffocating, wearing heavily on your heart. Nothing is fine…

“I’m sorry. I don't know what else to say. I just couldn't stop thinkin’ about you, and I knew he was only going to get in the way-”

“As he should, Cam! You came in here? Why the fuck wouldn’t you have stayed out in the living room? This is bad enough on its own! Just fuckin’ leave.” Cam walks toward you, wrapping himself up in your arms. You bury your head in his chest, trying to fight him away but he just holds you tighter.

“I didn’t want to make things worse,” he says quietly, his voice calm but firm. “I know you don’t want me to leave.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words don’t come out. He’s right—part of you wanted him here. You’ve been thinking about it since the second he left. But that didn’t change anything… “No,” you whimper, your voice cracking with the emotion you’re trying to hold back. “I don’t want this… I don’t want this mess,” you whisper. “You and Rafe got me into this shit, and now everything feels like it’s falling apart. Rafe and I… we were so fuckin’ happy, Cam,” you whisper as tears start to glass in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles softly against your skin. “We never wanted you to feel this way, baby. It wasn’t supposed to be anything at all.”

You can hear the emotion in his words, the desire to pull away, and the desperation to hold on, pulling you in two directions.

“Just please… Just let Rafe and I work this out in the morning, alright? You don’t gotta worry about it. I don’t want to go anywhere, and I fuckin’ won’t. Rafe doesn’t want to lose you… He’d do anything for you. We got you into this mess. We will figure it out. Okay?”

You take a deep breath, completely overwhelmed by the moment. You had no idea what would happen next. Cam made it seem so easy—his thoughts about how Rafe would act if they just talked it out flowed so smoothly from his mouth; it’s almost like he believed that lie himself.

Cam was here… And a part of you couldn’t bring yourself to let him go.

The darkness is exchanged for the day, soft light bleeding through the blinds as the sounds of the morning creeps through the cracked window. You shift slightly, letting out a lazy stretch, watching Cam’s hand move across your hip, making you freeze. The gravity of the situation sets in. You reach for your phone, checking the time, your head quickly snapping to the door as you hear a set of keys jiggle in the lock.

Your heart skips a beat with the creaking of the hinges, Rafe’s heavy feet moving along the hardwood floor; the thud of his bag landing shortly after. You tap Cam fast before scrambling to your feet, panic flooding your body. “Holy shit,” you whisper under your breath as you walk toward the closed door.

“Baby, you here?”

You push open the door, taking a step into the living room. Rafe’s smile doubles when he sees you. You feel the blood drain from your face as his demeanor shifts. He stands there stunned, his chest rising and falling slightly as his world crashes around him with Cam standing behind you.

“The fuck is happening?”

You reach for a breath, filling your lungs with air as you search for the words that will make this better, but there’s nothing that can make this better. Rafe stands there, his face unreadable for the moment, waiting for either of us to speak before something cracks.

“I said, ‘What the fuck is happening, huh?’” Rafe’s voice echoes through the house, hitting your chest hard.

“I’ll handle this, baby,” Cam says softly, his words sending chills down your spine as he steps around you, his eyes locked on Rafe’s and Rafe’s on his. Even the simple term of endearment felt wrong–hearing him say it so casually in front of Rafe. That simple name that let Rafe know that this was anything but casual for either of you.

“The fuck did you call her?” He asks in disgust, his voice tight with anger and confusion.

“What, you gettin’ jealous now?”

“Jealous?” Rafe’s voice raises, veins protruding as he steps toward the confrontation. “I’m not jealous of fuckin’ shit. Jealous? Jealous of you and MY fuckin’ girlfriend?”

Cam doesn’t flinch, taking a step closer as well. “Well, we both know she’s not just yours. So yeah. Think I'll call her whatever the fuck I like.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and everything went dead silent for the moment.

“Rafe-”

“Don't,” Cam stops you, putting a hand up, pleading with you to stop before you can say anything, his eyes soft and gentle, taking an entirely different approach with you. Rafe’s hands balled into fists, his muscles tight; face red. “You need to get the fuck out,” he spits, his voice low and lethal.

Cam doesn't budge; his posture relaxed. He’s probably the only person in the world who wouldn’t be cowering now. Rafe’s body language matches Cam’s, their emotions like looking in a goddamn mirror.

“Not goin’ anywhere,” Cam breathes.

“Rafe,” you gasp as Rafe’s fist shoots out, connecting with his brother’s jaw, making him struggle back, your stomach turning at the sound of it. Cam lunges at Rafe, pushing him back, making him hit the counter, and pictures and items crash to the floor.

The fight became a storm of punches, shoves, and sheer chaos as you watched in horror, neither of them showing any signs of backing down at all as you yelled and screamed for them to stop.

It was a fair fight–each landed jab met with equal force. Your hand clasps over your mouth as you watch your boyfriend go at it. You’ve seen him fight plenty; Rafe always gets the upper hand and fast. But not now… They don’t stop; their faces a mess of blood and bruises, lips split, noses bleeding, but neither seems to care.

That tension… That frustration that you felt all week was clearly felt by the boys as well. Mixing their jealousy on top of it… this was bound to happen. You try to stop them one last time, knowing the only way to tear these two dogs apart would be to leave.

Tears well in your eyes as you grab your keys and head toward the door,. Just as you reach the it, everything stops; just the sounds of their heavy breathing fill the space around you. “You can’t be serious?” Rafe pants, his voice breaking with anger. “Gonna fuck my brother. Walk out and not say shit to me?” Rafe’s voice bellows through the house. You turn around, matching his darkened eyes as tears of shame and sadness slip down your cheeks.

“You guys are scaring me, alright?” You cry. “I just wanted you to stop.”

“M’sorry, princess,” Cam pants, and Rafe shoves his fist against his chest, grabbing a handful of his shirt as he pulls it tight.

“You better shut your fuckin’ mouth.”

“Yeah, bitch? Or what?” Cam spits with a cruel smile as he steps closer, pushing his forehead against Rafe’s.

“STOP! Just fucking stop, alright?” You scream, making both of them turn to you. “Look at you guys. What the fuck is happening right now?” You ask, your voice laced with tears. “This whole situation is a fucking mess. And you both ruined everything. EVERYTHING!”

You turn your attention to Cam, walking toward him, pressing your finger into his chest as your heart hammers. “You lied about that fucking phone call, Cam.”

“What phone call?” Rafe asks weakly.

“You shouldn’t be here!” You continue. “I trusted you… You pretended to be your own brother. You came into the room and blindsided me mid-conversation. I can’t help how I feel about you, alright? I’m sorry that I feel something for you after that night. But I fucking do. Okay? Okay?” You scream, turning your attention from Cam to Rafe. “You know that I love you, Rafe… But you also know there’s something between him and me, and I can’t fuckin’ stop. And Cam… Jesus Christ. You keep putting me in situations, tempting me where if I turn you down I lose you.”

“I’m sorry I-” Cam starts.

“No fuck you. Keep your fucking sorrys to you self. And you,” your eyes cut to Rafe. “You ruined everything. If you wanted me to yourself, why would you put me through this in the first place, huh? You made me fucking beg for this, Rafe. And then, even after I begged, you said ‘it wasn’t enough,’ you wanted me to beg some more. If I meant so much to you, why the HELL would you even suggest this? You knew I was worried. You said ‘that night wouldn’t change anything,’ and I fucking believed you.”

“Just calm down, alright-”

“I told you I was worried!” You interject, voice shattered as you choke out your words. “I said that this isn’t something you do with a girlfriend. This seems like something you would do with some random girl at a bar. Not someone you wanted to be with forever. You said, ‘It was just going to be a fun night…’”

“I didn't think this would happen…”

“You messed me up, Rafe. I caught feelings for your brother and I love you. You put me in this situation, and now we’re fucked.”

Rafe’s face goes pale, his jaw clenched tightly as he looks at you, trying to comprehend what you’re saying.

Your bottom lip quivers as you blink away your tears, tugging off Rafe’s gold family ring before resting it on the counter. His eyes soften with hurt and anger. “You’re actin’ like you didn’t just sleep with my brother when I told you last week that I was jealous.”

“Yeah, Rafe? And when I told you ‘we don’t have to do that again’ and ‘I won’t talk to Cam,’ you said that ‘it wasn’t necessary and you just want me to remember who I belong to’.”

“Mhmm-yeah,” he huffs as he steps a little closer. “And I told you ‘I didn’t want him talking to you without me,’ and you fucked him…” His nostrils flare as tears brim in his waterline.

“We didn’t,” Cam mumbles.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP,” Rafe screams back at his brother before turning his attention back to you, taking a deep breath. “You did somethin’ I know you did,” he softens his tone, hurt and accusatory, cutting right through you. “I need a fuckin’ answer, alright? Me or him?”

You take a deep, shaky breath, not giving him the quick answer he was looking for.

“JESUS FUCK. I can’t believe I’m even askin’ you this twice. ME OR HIM?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

“How the FUCK you not know, huh? I am so fucking sure about you. How the hell do you not know?”

“Because, Rafe… We’re not going through the same shit. You have no idea what this feels like for me. I’m fuckin’ spiraling. I didn’t tell you about the text I got from Cam this morning. It was eating at me all day… I didn’t know whether to respond or let it go. And, I knew that if I didn’t say anything, he’d come regardless because you two are the fuckin’ same. So, when he called pretending to be you, I told him about the texts. He told me ‘I was fine,’ he told me to ‘stop worrying,’ and that he would talk to him… And then when he got here, he told me it’s okay and that you have me… You’re both fucking liars. The second I found out that he wasn’t telling the truth, I should have told you… I should have asked him to leave. But I didn’t want to.”

“Why?” he asks, his voice thick with frustration.

“I could ask you the same fuckin’ thing, Rafe. Why did we do this in the first place? Why are you jealous? Why are things different with me? I don’t know why I feel this way, just like you don’t know why all of a sudden this little thing the two of you do for fun all the sudden turned into the bad fuckin’ idea it was. I’m leaving.”

“You’re leaving? Where are you goin’?” Rafe asks as you storm down the front porch, the two boys trailing close behind you.

You grab the car door, tugging it open, but Rafe grabs it, his piercing blue eyes burning into yours. “I don’t know what I want anymore,” you breathe.

“You said ‘you love me,’” he struggles to push the words through his tight lips. “You said ‘you loved me, and you’re fuckin’ leaving me.”

“Oh my god. I love you, Rafe. We were fuckin’ perfect… Excuse me for needing a moment to think about how that got taken away.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he pleads, his knuckles turning white with his grip on the door. “I can’t lose you. Please.”

“Don’t leave,” Cam steps in. “Please. I’ve ruined enough, okay? I’ve fucked up so much shit for the two of you. I should have known this would eventually happen. I know how Rafe talks about you… He loves you so much. We weren’t thinking. I’ll go. Just–Just don’t leave him,” Cam begs, holding back his emotions too.

“I’m not choosing either of you… I just need some time to think.” You tug on the door; Rafe fights against you monetarily, “Give me some fucking time to think, Rafe.”

He submits as he sees the look in your eyes and the pain all this caused. “I’m sorry, princess.”

𝓓𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻, 𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓱 𝓛𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻…

iMessages

Rafe: I messed up baby

Rafe: I never should’ve put you in that position and I’m so sorry

Rafe: I love you more than anything

Cam: I’m sorry for everything that happened and for lying to you. I knew by the way Rafe talked about you that it was dumb in the first place, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know where this was headed even before we started.

Cam: I saw you before we met. I acted like I didn’t. But I saw the two of you on IG. I saw how fucking pretty you are. Got an idea of what he kinda girl you were… listened to his stories and shit i knew this was going to be trouble before it even started.

Rafe: I keep replaying everything over and over. Everything that you told me. You were so worried and I said I would take care of you. I’m supposed to take care of you.

Cam: I’m sorry for lying to you. I can’t believe I did that shit.

Rafe: Im begging you for anything. Please

Rafe: Saw you in the library. You look so pretty baby. I miss you so much

Cam: Merry Christmas

Cam: It hurts to hear Rafe talk about you. I’m sorry

Rafe: just want you to know that I’ll do anything to fix this

Rafe: Give me 5 minutes alright? Just 5 minutes I won’t take any more of your time.

Cam: If you’re ever willing to talk to me, just know I’m here. I can meet you anywhere. Anytime.

Rafe: When you’re ready I’ll be here. I hope you’re taking care of yourself

Rafe: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me

Rafe: You’re always on my mind. I’m so fucked up about this.

Rafe: I love you

Rafe: im sorry

𝓓𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 31𝓼𝓽…

Rafe’s POV:

Apparently, there’s a party goin’ on here tonight… Smiling, laughter, and clinking glasses fill the air, but the only thing I can see is her, all the sounds around me fading into the back as my racing thoughts take the front seat.

She’s beautiful. Fuck, she always looks good. She smiles and laughs; if I didn’t know her well enough, I’d buy it… I can’t believe I lost her–fumbled the best thing I ever had. She was everything to me. Our relationship was so fucking good. Now, it’s gone.

Cam stands next to me, sipping his whiskey. He looks out at the crowd, his eyes following her, too. The tension between us is thick. He feels the same way I do. He misses her. We both fuckin’ do.

“Somethin’s off, huh?” Cam asks, his voice gentle as he picks up on the same thing I did.

I sigh deeply, running my fingers through my hair. “Yeah. That ain’t her,” I answer against the rim of my glass. ‘Not her…’ He knows what I mean: that little light that’s usually in her eyes has dimed, her forced smile not even reaching her eyes. “I fucked everything up.” I rasp, feeling the bite of the liquor burn down my throat, numbing my nerves slightly.

“We both did,” he mumbles, his voice tight as he rubs his hand over his buzzed head.

The night goes on, and I still can’t take my eyes off her. She hangs out with her friends, floating between conversations, and suddenly, my world turns upside down. A guy? Someone new? I recognized him from campus, a hockey player… Heyward? I don’t fuckin’ know. Regardless, my stomach twisted in knots seeing her with someone else because, for a split second, she looked happy, and that should have been enough, but it did nothing but make all those thoughts in my brain louder. It does nothin’ but break my heart even more.

She found someone else.

Cam and I exchange glances, quietly watching, living the same nightmare.

“I can’t stop thinking about her,” Cam said quietly, his voice full of longing.

I clench my jaw, fists tightening at my sides. “I feel the same way. But we can’t force her to choose. Looks like—” I clear my throat, battling back my tears. “Umm… It looks like she found someone else anyway.”

“No way, man.”

“Regardless, we need to give her space and let her figure it out. And if she comes back around, we just have to promise each other that whoever she chooses is just that. Alright? None of this sneakin’ around bullshit,” I whisper, trying not bring up the past, but for the first time, I get a taste of what it felt like to be him… I don’t even think I could follow my own orders if she chooses Cam. I don’t fuckin’ blame him, honestly.

“I think I love her, man,” Cam whispers.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew it was fuckin’ true– I knew after that first night they were together this shit wasn’t gonna end well for me. But hearing him say it out loud… That’s a hard pill to swallow. I shut my eyes, breathing deeply before letting out a deep sigh.

“‘Course you do…”

Got nothin’ to lose. The only thing that I had I threw away. Every day we’re not together feels like a wasted moment. Every night I spend time alone, hurts a little more than the last. I gotta make this right…

I walk up to her, my heart racing in my chest. She looks up at me, fluttering her lashes, surprised to see me here. And with my arrival little light flickering in her eyes dims entirely, and I know it’s my fault.

“Can we talk,” I ask, my voice trembling slightly.

She hesitates, then nods, giving me a gentle smile. “Okay,” the word passes her lips as I hear her voice for the first time in too long… I extend my hand, and she takes it, following me out of the thick crowd, out of the swanky hotel bar into the lobby of the Ritz.

Cam steps away from the reception desk, thanking the clerk before stuffing his wallet in his pocket. He turns toward us, eyes locked on her, that same look in his eyes as mine. We gotta fix this.

Reader's POV:

The three of you walk into a dark hotel room, the city lights glittering outside the windows as the New Year’s Eve fireworks pop and crack in the sky. Cam flicks on a light, and Rafe pops open a bottle of champagne, filling three flutes.

You take a breath, feeling your heart patter and your stomach flutter. The night took a turn; one moment, you were chatting and drinking with your friends, and the next, the boys whisked you away for a chat. You’d be lying if you didn’t expect to see them; after Rafe had liked a picture of you getting ready on Instagram, it was only a matter of time.

These men take what they want and don’t go down without a fight…

Rafe passes you a glass, looking down at you with a nervous smile. He hands one to Cam as well, who looks down at you with that same reflective face.

“Thanks for agreeing to come up here,” Rafe breathes, and you give him a nod before taking the champagne to your lips. “I know I keep sayin’ it, but. I’m sorry,” he says softly, his blue eyes meeting yours. “We shouldn’t have put you in that spot. You were right; all the girls were just hookups before… Nothing serious. Nothing like you,” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry, too,” Cam starts next, his eyes brimming with guilt. “I lied… to him, to you. I told him I understood where he was comin’ from. I told him he had nothin’ to worry about, and I knew I was lying. I manipulated you… I shouldn’t have done that. And, I’m sorry I let on that I didn’t know her…” Rafe doesn’t say anything at first, his face hardening as he realizes the last apology was for him, not you. He blinks a few times, repeating the words in his head.

“Cam-” Rafe starts.

“When I first met her, I acted like I didn’t know her. But that wasn’t true. After you started datin’, I followed her on social media and learned more about her. I knew somethin’ like this could happen…” Cam continues, his voice trailing away with remorse. “And, I’d be lying to you if I said ‘I wasn’t hopin’ for it to happen.’ I didn’t think about what would happen beyond that… This shit. I don’t know. I was hoping it would work out. I didn’t back off when you asked me to, Rafe. I wasn’t ready. I’m sorry.”

Rafe’s expression darkens for the moment. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, choosing his battles, a mixture of sadness and betrayal in his eyes nonetheless. “So what? You thought you were just gonna come in here and break us up? What the fuck-”

“No… I don’t know what I was thinking,” Cam answers truthfully.

You sit there silent, stunned by their admittance, their utter vulnerability. They clearly had a while to cool down and think it through. But you knew you were blameless; the weight also hung heavy on your shoulders.

“I should’ve told you to leave, Cam,” you say softly. “I could have stopped it the second I knew the call earlier was you and not Rafe. You were walking out of the door, and I pulled you back in…”

“Holy shit,” Rafe mutters under his breath weakly before looking away, downing the rest of his champagne. “I was really confused. I was overwhelmed; the last thing I should have done was that. I’m so, so sorry, Rafe,” you whisper as a few tears spring from your eyes.

Rafe takes a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, rolling out the tension in his neck before turning around again. He walks toward you, cupping your cheeks in his big hands, lifting your gaze to his. “Don’t apologize to me,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “You told me you were worried… You told me that you loved me… I said I’d take care of you, and look how it turned out. Nothing would have happened if I just listened like I should have.”

Rafe’s eyes lift from yours, looking over his shoulder at his brother. You turn around, watching Cam take a few paces, his big arms crossed over his chest for comfort, trying his best to keep his feelings at bay.

“I can’t stay here,” Cam says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I should have told him ‘no’ ‘cause I was in too deep from the start. I should have backed off… If I had done that, the two of you would have been fine. You’re a good girl, and Rafe loves you. I should’ve respected that from the start.”

“Cam…” You breathe, your voice trembling, just knowing what’ll come next.

“I just want you both to be happy,” Cam continues, his gaze sincere but heavy as he blinks some tears away, running his eyes along the sleeve of his suit. “I know I made this harder. I’ll be fine. But I’ll always have love for you. I’ll control myself from now on. I promise you both. I swear.” Cam reaches out for you, pulling you into a tight hug, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “M’sorry, sweetheart.”

Your eyes pinch shut, and you feel a sense of reserve wash over you despite the sadness. You missed what you had with Rafe but weren’t sure how to balance it all.

“Later, man,” Cam draws away before pulling Rafe into a hug. “Key card is on the nightstand, alright. I’ll see you at the house tomorrow. You two have a great night,” he smiles, speaking sweetly even though you can tell he’s just holding on by a thread.

𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚎…

𝜗𝜚 𝓒𝓪𝓶 𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝜗𝜚 𝓒𝓪𝓶 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝔂𝓼

tags: @rafesthroatbaby @kisses4angels @littlelamy @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy @rafestoothbrush @bloodibambiidoll @laniirackssss @jkrafe @wtfdudesblog @alejstarkey @rafe-cameronswife @rafe-cameronswife @rafedaddy01

[drabblesandsnippets]

Imagine... (‘extreme weather leads to forced proximity’)

Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

December Daze Challenge - Day 29 - @the-slumberparty

Warnings: (440w) Virgin reader. Brief mention of body image, drinking, and sex toys. (Mostly implied) smut, including fingering.

Imagine Bucky finding out that you’ve never had sex. It was the last thing he was expecting to learn about you, the two of you still laying the foundation of your friendship, most of your time spent with the others. And then an ice storm led to getting trapped in an elevator, the enclosed space triggering a panic attack that had you blurting out you didn’t want to die a virgin. In the moment, Bucky chose to pretend he didn’t hear your entire admission, focusing only on assuring you that you weren’t going to die. But as soon as the ‘danger’ passed and he safely got you back on solid ground, all he could think about was being the one to introduce you to the world of shared pleasure. A night of drinking is the catalyst, the alcohol loosening your tongue to disclose more of your complicated past and joke that your inherent lack of confidence reduces what limited options you already have due to your size. As much as Bucky’s always appreciated your similar sense of humor and self-deprecating jokes, this one’s a step too far for him.  Now, it's no longer just about getting to have sex with you and show you how good it can feel - it’s about proving how hot you are and how incredibly lucky anyone would be to be in your bed. Luckily, it doesn’t take much convincing - a surprise kiss under mistletoe the next day and your trust in Bucky has you believing this isn’t just some weird favor he’s offering out of pity. Every step of the way, he's convincing you of his desire for you, never once letting your insecurities grow - “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he says while he slowly undresses you, his lips touching every part of you he reveals. "You're so perfect, better than anything I could've imagined," he groans once he finally has you naked, his hands exploring your bountiful curves. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans right along with you when you allow his hand to wander between your soft thighs, his fingers slick with your arousal. “Is this what you do when you’re alone?” he’s desperate to know, your pussy clenching around his finger as he learns what makes you feel good, paying attention to all the spots that have you trembling underneath him.  Your bold confession that you usually use a toy has him groaning, his resolve crumbling when you explain, in glorious detail, how you fuck yourself with it. And as soon as he makes you come, he’s climbing off the bed in search of your toy, begging to watch, promising to fuck you after you give him a show.

Day 28 | Imagine… Masterlist | Day 30

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[gojossocks]

Heaven knows

Gojo x Reader Genre: fluff, angst Summary: A glimpse of you and Satoru's relationship before you finally get married. wc: 5.3k a/n: this is set after they defeated Sukuna! so 2018. Nobody died <3

The grand doors swung open, and there you were, framed by the soft glow of sunlight streaming in behind you. In that moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, and so did he. You were radiant, ethereal in the way only you could be, adorned in your wedding dress that seemed to shimmer with its own light. 

You look exactly like an angel.

It was like heaven had come down in the form of you— a miracle that Satoru Gojo is privileged enough to see. 

1999

You had marched up right up to him on the first day of school, unimpressed by the murmurs of your classmates around you. 

“Satoru, right?” You asked, giving him a warm smile despite the dismissive look he gave you. 

“I am Y/N!” You announced excitedly as you extended a tiny hand toward him.

He didn’t shake your hand, just stared at it with a displeased look. 

It was the first time someone called him by his first name who isn’t a part of his clan.

But before he could even respond or point out your audacity to call him by his first name, you proceeded into a rambling monologue about the first time you two had met. 

He blinked at you, his blue eyes narrowing in slight suspicion as he debated whether to bully you or ignore you. The memory you described was extremely vague to him—something about your clan visiting his, something that he doesn’t even think worth remembering. 

“You don’t remember, do you?” you teased, tilting your head with a grin, completely ignoring his lack of response. “Your clan was so serious when my family visited. And you just sat there! All boring and serious too, like the world was ending.”

His brows furrowed and he crossed his arms, “I wasn’t boring!” 

“You were! You were talking about tech a nick or something and responsibilities, you didn’t want to play.”

“I did have responsibilities,” he muttered defensively, his chest puffing out slightly. “And it’s technique, you weirdo.” 

“Sure,” you replied with a shrug, your grin never fading. “Wanna prove you’re not boring by watching Digimon with me?” 

That seemed to catch his interest. Hesitantly, he lets you take his hand to lead him where you want to go. 

From that day on, it felt like his life truly had begun when you granted him with your sunshine. For the first time in his life, Satoru wasn’t pressured to be anything he needed to be. You made him feel normal, something he didn’t even know he wanted until then.

You were his first best friend. You were the first person who saw him for who he truly was, not what he represented or what he’s destined to be. 

The world had never quite felt right anymore unless you were in it. 

2007

Satoru has changed over the years. The roles between you had reversed; you were the calm and steady one now.  Gone was the stiff, overly serious boy you met when you were kids.  Now, he was obnoxious and loud, and painfully obsessed with you.

But despite all this, he was still your Satoru.

Satoru always knew that he felt strongly about you, he just wasn’t sure what it was exactly. All he knew was that he likes it when you look at him, the way your voice softens when you speak to him, and how your touch—even the slighted brush of your fingers, is something that he desperately craves. 

He never passes up an opportunity to pull out lame excuses just to touch you, which earns several eye rolls from your circle of friends. 

“Your hair’s messy,” he’d say, brushing an imaginary strand from your forehead and then putting an arm around your shoulders to ‘keep your hair in place.’  Or dramatically say (with an arm around your waist)  ‘come hold my hand, what if an ugly scary curse comes over to kill me?’ just so he could imagine (and plot) so many more moments where he can hold you. 

Everyone knew about it too. It was impossible not to notice. Satoru wasn’t exactly subtle about the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room. It was an open secret that you’d eventually get married anyway. You were practically glued to his side—at lunch, in class, during missions. Even Suguru would tease him mercilessly about it.

“Insufferable. You two are insufferable.” Suguru said one afternoon, groaning at the sight of you and Satoru feeding each other mochi during lunch break. 

Satoru just fluttered his eyes mockingly at him before he pulled you closer to him, practically hugging you. You didn’t pull away, like always. It never occurred to him that you might just like him back because of how much you don’t mind it when he’s hogging your personal space. 

Eventually, all those constant ‘we’re just friends’ seem to wear on Satoru.

He felt ridiculous. Satoru Gojo, bearer of the six eyes, rendered weak by your touch. 

Friends didn’t make his chest tighten every time they smiled, didn’t make his stomach flip with a single laugh. Friends didn’t leave him awake at night, staring at the ceiling, replaying the way your head rested on his shoulder or how your hand lingered just a second too long on his arm.  Friends certainly didn’t steal the air from his lungs the way you did every time you walked into a room. No, it was only you. 

And then there was the kiss.

It happened during one of your movie nights. 

It started as a joke—when you asked him about his worst kiss so far. 

Poor Satoru was blushing profusely when you asked him that question. At the back of his mind, he wanted his first kiss to be you. 

But he couldn’t say that, of course. So instead, he shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I don’t kiss and tell,” 

You raised an eyebrow, your grin widening as you saw right through him. “Oh my god,” you gasped, sitting up straighter. “You’ve never kissed anyone, have you?”

“What?” Satoru scoffed, but his voice cracked slightly, betraying him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I’ve kissed someone.”

Your eyes narrowed, sparkling with amusement. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying!” he protested, his blush deepening.

“Uh-huh,” you said, unconvinced. “If you’re not lying, then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not blushing!”

“You’re totally blushing.”

He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Of course I’ve kissed someone!”

“Prove it, then.”

The challenge hung in the air between you, crackling like electricity.

“Prove it?” he echoed, his voice faltering for the first time. “Maybe I should show you to shut you up.” 

You rolled your eyes but there’s something about the way you looked at him that caught him off guard, “You’re so full of yourself, Satoru.”

There was a pause, the teasing atmosphere suddenly shifting into something heavier, quieter.

“...We could try it,” You said, your voice a bit nervous. He gulped when he noticed the seriousness in your voice. 

After a moment, your eyes met his.

“For practice,” you added quickly, as if saying it out loud would make it true.

And he just nodded at your dumb excuse. “For practice,” he repeated, nodding as if  he’s convincing himself.

Neither of you moved at first. The air between you seemed to thicken, the rooftop suddenly too quiet except for the distant hum of the city below.

“Okay,” you murmured, leaning in slightly.

“Okay,” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your faces were close now, close enough that you could see the nervous flicker in his usually confident blue eyes. You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, the faint scent of mint and whatever candy he’d been eating earlier.

Then, your lips met.

It was soft—tentative at first, like you were both afraid to mess it up. His hand hovered awkwardly near your jaw, unsure whether to touch you or not. You leaned into him just a little, testing the waters, and he followed your lead.

Your lips are soft, too soft. In fact, he wants to keep practicing with you just so he could feel your lips on his again. 

It lasted only a few seconds before you both pulled away, blinking at each other like you’d just crossed some invisible line neither of you could unsee. He tried to play it cool by shoving his feelings down after, giving you a shit-eating grin you love to roll your eyes at. 

It was extremely hard for him to get his shit together when all that he could think about was that moment. He looked like a fool when he kept stealing glances at you every chance he got. 

but what is this feeling exactly? 

He just wanted to be by your side all the time, to go where you want to go as long as he can have you near. 

And it wasn’t until Shoko mentioned that you were going on a date that Satoru finally admitted to himself that it was not platonic— the feelings he had been bubbling up inside him since he was nine. 

“She’s what?” he asked, nearly choking on his drink.

“Going on a date,” Shoko repeated, her tone maddeningly nonchalant as she exhaled a stream of smoke. “Some non-sorcerer asked her out.”

Satoru froze, the glass in his hand halfway to his lips. A sharp, unfamiliar knot twisted in his chest.

“No way.” he said, though the doubt and the pitch in his voice betrayed him. “No fucking way. You’re joking, right?”

“She already said yes,” Shoko added, the corner of her lips quirking into a smirk. “Maybe you should stop being an idiot and do something about it.”

The words hit him like a sucker punch, and he hated how his brain instantly imagined you with someone else—laughing, smiling, being exactly the way you were with him, but for someone else.

Satoru didn’t even think—his body moved before his mind caught up, and before he knew it, he teleported directly to your room for the first time, barely managing to stick the landing.

The soft hum of music filled the air, and you were perched in front of your mirror, carefully applying your makeup. You didn’t notice him at first because you were too focused on lining your lips (and staring directly into the abyss). 

He leaned against your doorframe, his heart pounding harder than any fight he’d been in.

“Cancel your date,” he blurted out.

You jolted, spinning around so fast you almost knocked over a perfume bottle. “What the hell, Satoru?! What are you doing here? And how did you even get in?”

He ignored your questions, stepping closer to you. “I mean it—don’t go. Please?” 

You blinked at him, your expression shifting from surprise to confusion. “What are you talking about? Why do you care?”

“Because it’s a waste of time,” 

Your arms crossed defensively, your gaze hardening as you tilted your head, demanding answers. “And why’s that? 

“Because... because…” he began, his voice trailing off as frustration bubbled to the surface. His icy blue eyes locked with yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. 

“Because I like you, alright?” he finally confessed. His voice was raw, unguarded, and louder than he intended, but he couldn’t stop now. “There. I said it.”

The confession hung in the air between you, the weight of it pressing down on his chest. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he watched your reaction, searching for any sign of how you felt.

Your gaze softened, and to his surprise, a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

“You’re such an idiot,” you said, shaking your head.

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, shoulders slumping as he braced himself for rejection.

But then you stepped closer, the teasing edge in your voice replaced by something gentler. “No, Satoru. I mean, it took you long enough.”

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, wide with disbelief. “Wait... what?”

The way you smiled at him then—soft, genuine, and a little exasperated—sent a rush of warmth through him. “I thought it was obvious,” you teased, laughing softly.

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process what you’d just said. A grin broke across his face, wide and boyish. “So... you like me too?” he asked excitedly. 

Your laughter deepened, the sound soft and melodic. “How could you not notice?”

Before you could say anything more, he reached for you, his fingers curling gently around your wrist as he pulled you into him. You yelped, startled by the sudden closeness, but the protest never left your lips. His arms encircled you, holding you tightly, finally after waiting years to do this. Your hands hesitated for a moment before finding their place around his waist, your touch tentative but grounding.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and trembling slightly with emotion. His breath was warm against your hair as he buried his face in it, letting his eyes close. “Does that mean you’re dumping the loser who asked you out and you’re gonna spend the afternoon kissing me?” 

“Satoru.”

As Satoru stands near the altar, his usual confidence falters as his heart skips a beat—then stops entirely.

He swears that he had never been more in love with you, if that’s even possible. 

This feeling, an ache that stretched from his chest to his fingertips, leaves him trembling with an emotion he couldn’t put into words. He had never imagined it was possible to love someone this deeply, to feel his heart swell and his stomach churn with nervous exhilaration just from the mere sight of you.

And everything that he has ever done right, everything he had lost, was all worth it because it led to this moment. 

It led him back to you.

2008

It happened after a mission. The two of you had just finished taking down a particularly troublesome curse, your energy spent and your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps.  

Satoru, for once, was exhausted. But you, for once, were weirdly energetic— skipping ahead of him on the rain-soaked streets, your laughter carrying through the quiet night. 

Despite this, he insisted on walking you back to campus, even if his legs felt like lead. He just wanted to be around you a little longer. 

The night was heavy with the smell of rain-soaked pavement, the kind of scent that lingered and wrapped around you, making everything feel muted. 

You stopped suddenly in the empty area, just before you reached the school gates. 

“Are you even listening to me?” he asked, tilting his head toward you.  

You didn’t say anything more, just pulled out your newest ipod out of your pocket, fumbling with the earbuds tangled in the cords. Satoru leaned against a lamppost nearby, watching you with an amused tilt to his head.

“What’re you doing?”  He rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched into a smile.  

You brought a finger up to his lips and looked at him mischievously. “Shh.” 

“Music helps me relax,” you said, plugging one earbud into your ear and offering him the other. “Here. Try it.” 

Satoru hesitated, then shrugged, taking the tiny speaker and popping it into his ear. Almost immediately, the familiar opening notes of Every Breath You Take by The Police filtered through, slow and haunting.

“This?” He scrunched up his nose. “Really? The Police? That’s so lame.” 

You looked at him, a tired but content smile tugging at your lips. “This song’s a classic,” you said softly, “It’s my favorite song!” 

He opened his mouth to retort, but you surprised him by stepping closer, your eyes sparkling with a mix of playfulness and something else—something he couldn’t quite name. Without warning, you stepped closer, extending a hand toward him. 

“Dance with me,” you said, your voice barely louder than the melody playing between you. 

“What? Here?” Satoru raised a brow, glancing around at the deserted street.

“Yes, here.” You laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward you. “Come on, Satoru. Don’t tell me you’ve never danced before.”

Of course he didn’t. 

He spent most of his life training to be the strongest and loving you and only you. 

He let you guide him, his free hand hovering awkwardly until you placed it firmly on your waist. You placed one hand on his shoulder and the other intertwined with his. 

The song continued to play, the melody wrapping around you both as you swayed. 

Satoru stood stiffly for a moment, his brain short-circuiting as he tried to process what was happening.

“Relax,” you teased, giving his shoulder a gentle shove.

It was awkward at first but eventually, you fell into a rhythm.  

“You do realize this song’s about obsession and borderline stalking, right?” he said, a smirk adorning his lips. 

“It’s a love song.” You corrected him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.  “I think it’s kinda depressing, in a way. To be able to love someone from afar but not being able to actually love them. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but it’s devotion nonetheless. 

“You’re insane,” he replied, but there was a fondness in his tone that made your grin widen.

Like in the movies, it suddenly started to rain.  The rain was coming down soft at first, then it became heavier as the droplets started to soak through your uniforms and plastered your hair to your faces. 

But neither of you really cared.  Not when you were so close, your warmth cutting through the chill of the night. 

The rain soaked through his hair and trickled down his neck, and Satoru couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when you were looking at him like that, your eyes sparkling with mischief and something softer. Something about the way you looked at him, your face soft and serene under the rain’s glow, made him feel... grounded.

“You’re terrible at this,” you teased, your voice light despite the exhaustion in your body.

“Hey, I’m great at this,” he shot back, spinning you suddenly and making you laugh. The sound echoed through the empty street, warm and full of life, and Satoru realized he’d do anything to hear it again and again. 

When the chorus hit, you rested your head against his chest, your movements slowing. He felt your breathing even out, your exhaustion catching up to you, but you didn’t pull away. His arms tightened around you instinctively, holding you as if you might slip away if he didn’t.

“I want to be yours.” He murmured through your hair, hiding his face from you out of nervousness. “Can I be yours, Y/N?” 

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him.   

“I love you, Satoru.” 

He blinked, his heart stumbling in his chest. “Really?” A slow grin spread across his face. “You beat me to it.”

You giggled, the sound melting whatever nervousness was left in him. 

“I love you, Y/N. Can I be yours then?” He asked, his voice dropping slightly. “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

“I think my answer is pretty clear, you idiot.” 

And with that, you pulled him down into a kiss, the rain pouring around you like something out of a movie.  Satoru just held you tighter, thinking that he didn’t need anything else. 

He just needed to be yours.

As you walk down the aisle, closer and closer to him, his breath hitched when finally— fucking finally, your eyes met his. 

You smiled at him with lachrymose eyes. Satoru smiles back, wide and unrestrained, so much so that his cheeks are starting to hurt. His heart is pounding loudly in his chest that he’s afraid that everyone else in the church would hear how much his heart beats just for you. 

You were ethereal.

A dream, really. 

A dream he doesn’t ever want to wake up from. 

Satoru had prepared himself for this moment—or at least he thought he had.

He told himself he needed to be strong for you.

It had been years, after all. 

But no amount of preparation could steady the storm raging within him as the moment finally came. His jaw tightened, his smile strained, and he forced himself to breathe, even as each breath felt heavier than the last.

His chest constricted, and for that single, fragile moment, it felt as though everything he had ever wanted was still within reach. 

When you finally tore your gaze from him and walked past, your white dress trailed like a whisper and a mockery of the life he would never have with you. Satoru just watched, rooted to his place. 

His heart clenched painfully, screaming at him to reach out, to stop you, but he stayed still. He had no right. This was your moment, and he had promised himself he wouldn’t ruin it—not for you.

Your happiness means everything to him. It always has. Even if it means watching you walk toward another man, toward a future that doesn’t include him.

Satoru’s eyes followed you as you made your way to your soon-to-be husband,  Nanami Kento.

2013

The rain was relentless, pouring in heavy sheets that blurred the world around him, but Satoru barely noticed it. His hands were shoved deep into his coat pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold, as he walked toward you. His breath fogged in the air, but it wasn’t the cold that made his chest tighten—it was the thought of what he was about to do.

Through the rain-streaked glass, he saw you sitting at a small table by the window. You were hunched over, your uniform still clinging to your frame. You were drenched because you waited for him at the park before he texted you to meet up with him in this café instead. 

Satoru nearly stopped right there, frozen by the sight of you. That look on your face—the same tired, fragile expression you’d worn for the past six months—made something inside him shatter.

Satoru almost cracked. 

But he couldn’t.

He had to do this. For you.

He swallowed the lump rising in his throat, forcing himself to take another step, and then another, until he was close enough to see the rain streaking down your cheeks. Or were those tears? He couldn’t tell. He didn’t want to. 

His breath was uneven, his heart pounding as if it were trying to break free from his chest.

He hated this. Hated himself. But it didn’t matter. 

This was for the best.

“Satoru?” you asked, your voice soft but cautious. Disappointment is written all over your face but your determination to make your relationship work outweighs it. 

He froze for a second. God, you looked so beautiful, even like this—wet, shivering, and confused. A part of him wanted to just pull you into his arms and to apologize for what he was about to do, hold you so close that the world would have no choice but to give you to him without exceptions.

But instead, he dropped his gaze and forced the words out. “We need to talk.”

You blinked, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

He slid into the seat across from you, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. He couldn’t meet your eyes, so he stared at the surface instead, tracing a crack in the wood grain with his finger. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”

“What about us?” you asked, your voice quieter now. 

Satoru exhaled sharply. “I don’t think this is working anymore.”

You stiffened, your fingers tightening around your coffee cup. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Satoru, what are you saying?”

“I’m not in love with you anymore,” he said, his voice hollow, as if that would make it hurt less—for both of you. “For a while now.” 

The words tasted like poison on his tongue, each one more painful than the last.

Your eyes widened, disbelief etched across your face. “You– you don’t mean that.”

When he finally looked at you, he thought about telling you the truth—that he was terrified of putting you in danger, that loving him came with risks you didn’t deserve. But he swallowed it down.

“I do.” His voice cracked. “I’ve been feeling this way for a while. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

You shook your head, tears pooling in your eyes. “Satoru, if something’s wrong, we can fix it. Just talk to me. I know you love me—”

“There’s nothing to fix!” he interrupted, louder than he intended. He winced at the hurt that flashed across your face. Softer now, he added, “It happens. People fall out of love.  Don’t make this situation harder for the both of us, please. I can’t give you what you want.” 

“You’re lying. Why are you doing this?” you whispered in disbelief. You quickly held his hand.  “You’re trying to push me away. Just tell me what’s really going on.”

He couldn’t answer that. Not the truth, at least. That being with him would mean a lifetime of danger, of being a target simply because of who he was. That he couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt because of him. That he loved you too much to keep you by his side.

“I’m not lying,” he said quietly, the finality in his tone slicing through the air between you. “This is just how I feel.”

Your shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he thought you might collapse under the weight of his words. 

You took a shaky step back, wrapping your arms around yourself as though you were trying to hold yourself together. “I see.” 

“Sorry, Y/N.” 

Without another word, he turned and walked away, the rain drowning out the sound of his footsteps and the sobs he was certain he would hear if he stayed a second longer.

He didn’t look back. He couldn’t afford to. Because if he did, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to leave.

The first few years after your breakup were a strange limbo. You stayed friends—on the surface, at least. But there was always tension, unspoken words that hung heavy between you. He could see it in the way your eyes lingered on him during missions, the hope that flickered and faded every time he said something or did something that he used to do with you.

You waited for him to come back to you. Satoru knew that. 

And for a time, he almost let himself believe that he can. He just needed enough time to muster up the courage to come back to you. 

and when he finally received that wedding invitation on a random friday morning, he stared at it for hours before opening it.  He felt like he died twice as much when he also learned that your fiancé gave up his job as a sorcerer just to have a peaceful life with you. 

The life Satoru dreamed of giving you. 

That night, for the first time in years, he let himself cry. Not the quiet, controlled tears he shed in the rain that day, but the kind that left him gasping for breath.

And Satoru Gojo, the strongest, could do nothing but watch.

Looking back at everything he had done to keep you safe, Satoru doesn’t know which one’s better—losing you for good or losing you to someone else.

Always an arm’s length yet never close enough. 

His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He bit down on his lower lip hard, a desperate attempt to stifle the sound threatening to escape—a choked sob, a plea, a broken fragment of a heartache he couldn’t afford to show.

Out of the corner of his eye, he felt a nudge at his elbow. Gojo turned to see Shoko, quiet as ever, holding out his sunglasses.

Shoko looked at him with such softness and sympathy, one that Gojo wasn’t sure he could bear right now.

Shoko didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. 

Gojo took the sunglasses, slipping it over his eyes. He gave her a half-hearted grin before painfully turning his gaze back on you. 

His resolve cracks little by little, then all at once, when he finally sees the way you look at Nanami Kento. 

Gojo will never have the privilege to wake up to you in the morning, to be the first person who would witness your sleepy eyes as the sunlight slowly makes its way into the room. Never again will he have the privilege of making you breakfast, of watching your expression shift from fondness to playful exasperation as you scold him for drenching his pancakes in too much honey, his sweetness nearly as overindulgent as the way he looked at you. He will never be able to be the recipient of your lovesick eyes, that softness in your smile that was only ever reserved for him. 

He’ll never be able to feel your touch again, at least not in the way he yearns for used to. 

Gojo’s mind wanders off at the stolen moments he buried deep within his heart. How it seems like it was only yesterday when he’s still in your shared bed, with you curled up by his side while he wraps his arms around you, and how you’d point out that he was clingy even if he knew you loved every second of it anyway. How you caress his face and laugh at his antics only to assure him that he is the only one you love and that you won’t ever go away, putting his demons to sleep just with the sound of your voice. 

Oh, what a bliss.

And perhaps the most gut wrenching realization of all is that it was almost him. Those nights full of whispered secrets and promises to grow old together all vanished just because he was too scared of not being able to protect you.

Nanami will have all that he dreams of, all that he let go of, and all of you. 

What a lucky man he is, to be someone that is seen and loved by you. You look at Kento like how you used to look at him, so full of love and adoration as if he was the one who put all the stars in the sky. 

He wanted to hate him, to despise the man who now holds your heart, to curse the universe for giving your love to someone else. But how could he? How could he, when Nanami Kento wears his love for you so plainly, so unabashedly, as if it were his very lifeblood? All he needs to hear is evident in the unspoken devotion that screams in the way Nanami looks at you—a love so evident it makes him force to swallow down the bile in his throat. 

If it wasn’t clear before, it was painfully clear now—the ache in his chest was sharper, more unbearable than any blow he had endured as the strongest. His ribs felt as though they might collapse under the weight of his regret.

The realization comes all too late and unrelenting, you were already promising forever in the arms of a man who wasn’t him. 

He wanted to shout, to tell you to stop the wedding. to choose him. to beg for your forgiveness. 

Would you take him back? 

The voices in his head are becoming louder, much louder than ever. He was so stupid. So cowardly. How could he have let you go when being with you is the only thing he had ever truly wanted? 

He stayed firm in his place, knuckles turning white as he held himself together.

Not once did you look back at him. 

It has always been you, you had once told him. 

Yet you have already said I do—

It has always been you. 

It will always be you. 

a/n: sorry, did i scam you?

my song inspo for this is bizarre love triangle by new order. I feel like it's such a depressing love song aka love triangle between the writer, his lover, and something else. In Gojo's case, it's his duty as the strongest.

[nottswitch]

bf!sister theo eating you out on your birthday as a gift

fun fact: sister’s bf!theo is double the munch as the usual theo, and i think we all understand why

warnings: 18+ smut, oral (f receiving), degrading, implied intox, cursing

"don’t worry, amore, i’ll get her to her room."

"thanks, teddy, you’re the best."

theo placed a chaste kiss on your sister’s lips, looking all parts sympathetic. you frowned, your eyes darting between her and her boyfriend, wondering what they were even on about. it was your birthday, and you didn’t even have that much to drink – a couple of champagne glasses and just starting on shots. however, nott’s smirk that appeared as soon as he turned his face away from your sister told you everything you needed to know.

that was how you ended up splayed out on your bed, panting and biting your bottom lip to stifle your moans as your sister’s boyfriend slowly but surely devoured your dripping pussy. it was different today – not the usual hurried haste of your encounters, all dry humping and jerking off, but something slower, almost… gentle. you’d heard your sister gushing about theo’s oral skills multiple times, and finally, finally you could see for yourself, albeit it wasn’t really your initiative.

"such a slut f’me… always ready, huh? wet like a bitch…"

yeah, almost was the key word.

you grabbed a fistful of theo’s hair, pressing his face deeper between your thighs to shut him up – he liked running his mouth way too much when it was way more useful for other things. theo rolled his eyes, giving your inner thigh a light slap before wrapping his lips around your clit and giving it a firm suck, making your body arch off the bed from the sheer pleasure of it. your hand flew to your mouth, covering up a moan that threatened to escape, which only made theo smirk like an absolute bastard.

"can’t even stay quiet. pathetic, bambina, really," he murmured against your folds, but his face ended up being shoved into you once more, your grip on his – stupid – curls tightening. he hissed but eagerly returned to work, his tongue swirling around your sensitive clit and lapping up your juices that started staining the sheets underneath.

but he just couldn’t shut up, could he? "enjoy while you can, piccola," theo mumbled once again, each of his words interrupted by the slurping sounds of his lips collecting all your arousal into his mouth. "this is a present, just so you know, yeah? don’t think i’m gonna give you my mouth fully, baby, that’s your sister’s."

his infuriating smirk seeped into his voice, which only made you want to rip his hair out, and you probably would had you not been so fucking close.

"shut your damn mouth, teddy,” you breathlessly retorted, trying to match his mocking, though it wasn’t as easy with his tongue getting back to your swollen clit that throbbed with pleasure.

"nuh-uh, baby. theodore for you," he teased, but your fingertips digging into his scalp let him know that if he didn’t make you cum right that moment, he’d end up with a pretty nasty bald patch. he chuckled, slipping his tongue into your clenching entrance, pressing into the spongy flesh of your walls in a way that made you bite on your palm. your orgasm started trickling down his chin in a few seconds, and you’d be embarrassed of the speed which he managed to tip you over the edge with if you were still in your right mind.

"it’s so fucking easy with you, huh," theo hummed, pretending to be deep in thought as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "you like the exact same things as her. almost like you’re sisters or something?"

there was that smirk again. you gritted your teeth, giving him a shove to get him off your bed already – he was definitely overstaying his welcome.

"you sounded better between my legs,” you quipped, your voice finally starting to steady after the mind blowing orgasm this fucker managed to give you. so your sister definitely wasn’t lying–

"that’s what she says too," theo answered, giving you a sly wink as he climbed off the bed, accompanied by your slipper hitting his back with a quiet thud. he pretended to clutch his back, even though he wasn’t really hurt, and lingered at the door, giving you one last irritating, annoying, downright fucking exasperating look. "happy birthday, piccola. now i’m gonna give my girl a present too, for having such a slut as a sister."

» au ; more

[quarterlifekitty]

Desperate times

Based on the results of this post and poll

cw: dark content. Kidnapping, threats, drugging, noncon, restraint, the whole shebang.

❌ Gaz is starting to feel a little disheartened, babe. You don’t seem as committed to making this work as he is… But that’s okay. He told you he loved you, and love means always being willing to put in the effort, yeah? So if the public approaches aren’t working, maybe you need something more private. It’s easy to get one of his mates to follow you around bars, wait for the perfect moment, and slip something in your drink. It’s easy to know when on the walk home there won’t be any witnesses. The hard part is going to be training you out of hissing and spitting when he gives you sweet words and gentle touches. That’s no way for a bird to treat her man, not when he’s gone through so much for her.

❌Soap is starting to feel a little… restless. This was fun at first, this game of trying to win you back, of cornering you like he was some kind of creep, but now? He just wants his bonnie. He needs you, and he knows you’ll never be as happy with anyone else as you are with him. He starts right from when you wake up after that night of reigniting your passions. You’re saying things you don’t mean, things you’ll regret— and he’s never been able to keep his cool when you get emotional. So if he wraps his hands around your throat and squeezes until you still, he can’t be the only one to blame. Now, he’ll be the first to admit that his worship of your body last night was just a wee bit lackluster… he was too excited for the main event. When you wake up, tied to his bed and gagged, he won’t be making the same mistake. In fact, best start on it now.

⭕️ Ghost doesn’t keep it casual. He doesn’t take baby steps. Just as soon as you return one of his calls, you can barely say hello before he says “I’m comin’ over, dovie.” You’ve never seen him smile like he did on that day before, and quite frankly, you never want to see it again. He looks sick. Drunk on just his proximity to you. He attacks you with his mouth once you answer the door, grunting between heaving breaths that he knew, knew you’d come around, knew you were a good girl, knew you’d never wanna force him to do something he didn’t want to do. He takes you on a few surfaces before he can finally pull his mind together enough to take you to a real bed. Tells you he’s gonna put a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly so this can’t happen again, because honestly? He doesn’t wanna tell you what will happen if it does.

❌Nikolai thought it was cute at first, seeing you try to play at being the big, strong, independent girl. But while his love for you is endless, his patience isn’t. The longer he lets this go on, the more training you’ll need when you come back. So he decides to do the merciful thing, and take you home. It’s a shame you didn’t behave— he would’ve let you sit in the passenger seat with his hand on your thigh the way you used to love. Instead he had to drag you into the back, chemicals soaked in the cloth he put over your mouth and nose. It doesn’t do well for a princess to be out of her tower. No, it isn’t good for anyone, least of all the princess. You don’t realize the dragon is collared and chained to you, that’s okay— he’ll just have to put you in a collar and chains of your own while you get used to things again. Maybe you’d be a little happier with your life inside if you had something little and sweet to take care of, like he does? He could get you that, malýshka. You don’t even need to ask.

I was thinking of making this the last in the series, but maybe we can push it further?

[jarofstyles]

Pierced

Hi my ducklings! So this is part 2 of Pierced Through The Heart but it can be read as a standalone! I'm sorry it took me so long I've been hella depressed lol. I hope you lover her!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 220+ exclusive writings!

WC- 4.4k

Warnings- mention of needles, piercing is done/described, oral sex

“Alright… So tell me honestly. No bullshit. How badly does this hurt?” Swinging her legs on the bench, she watched her boyfriend gather what he needed for the piercings.

After becoming his official girlfriend- which hadn’t taken very long- she was quick to cash in on her free piercing promise. The first had been a cartilage piercing, but this was definitely a bigger decision.

Her nipples.

Harry looked up from his preparations, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the hidden nervousness in her eyes. She liked to play tough but he knew how she was. He didn’t tease her about it too much, but he knew. “It really depends. I’ve had a lot of people who say it doesn’t hurt nearly at all, some who say it does, but only a few who have passed out from it. But I’ll make it quick, promise. And afterwards, you’ll have something beautiful to show for it.”

“I mean, I think I’ve got a good pain tolerance.”

The shop was closed for the day, leaving only Harry and Y/N in the place. It was quieter than she would have imagined, only the noise of their chatting and the soft music on the radio in the back. It had been louder when she came to get her cartilage done when she had brought lunch for both of them a few weeks back. “Hey. wait.” Her brow raised. “Have you ever fucked a customer?”

“Well fuck, come right out with it then.” Harry chuckled at the sudden change in topic, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. Her lack of filter was something he did like about her though. “No, love, can’t say I have.” He walked over to where she was sitting on the bench, leaning against the wall next to her.

He reached out and brushes a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers gently tracing along her jawline. “But I have to say, the idea of fucking a customer who sits on this very bench, getting pierced by my hands, is a pretty tempting one.”

Y/N felt her face heat, his blatant flirtation still getting to her and making her feel giddy. Once the confession had been made, he had fallen completely into loverboy mode- with a libido that she heavily enjoyed the benefits of. “Hm.” It pleased her that he hadn’t had anyone here. She would have been jealous… but knowing he was flirting with the idea of doing it with her? That was a welcomed answer. “Maybe if you’re good and be nice to me when you pierce my tits, I’ll consider it.”

He was always oh, so nice to her. He worshipped her, really. It was insane, actually, sometimes making her wonder if her previous lovers actually liked her at all because the way Harry treated her seemed so genuine and second nature and yet so enamored that she was shocked. The smirk on his lips as he placed the sanitized packaging down on the table beside them made her tummy flip.  “Oh, love, I promise I’ll be extra gentle when I pierce those perky little nipples of yours. They’re my favorite too, y’know.”

“Mmm.” She pursed her lips to hold back a. grin. “You better. I’m delicate, you know.”

Harry chuckled lightly, moving away from her ear and looking into her eyes. He raised a hand to cup her chin, gazing at her like she was the only thing he wanted to look at in this whole world. She sorta was. “Alright, delicate flower. Take that top off and let me see those tits.”

Y/N couldn’t help her laugh, shaking her head as she undid the buttons of her shirt. Harry was the professional here, so he had given her the rundown on how it was going to work- including the fact that he couldn’t play with them for a while after to make sure they healed properly. He had mourned that but quickly got over it when he imagined her, audibly, having them pierced. Theh would suit her incredibly well.

“I’m still sad you’ll have to keep your mouth off of them for a while.” She pouted, opening her shirt to expose her breasts to him. “What a shame.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her, finding her cute when she pouted—he wanted to kiss that pout, but could stop himself from doing so. He stared at her bare breasts longingly, nodding at what she had said. "I know, it is a shame. I’ll get back to it soon enough, though."

Reaching out, he gently took one of her nipples between his fingers, giving it a soft pinch before letting go and reaching for the other. He did the same, his thumbs rolling over the sensitive buds as he admired them. "Fuck, they really are perfect. I'm going to love piercing these."

The touch had her squeezing her legs together. While it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to remember that her boyfriend had his hands on plenty other breasts when he had to pierce them, she assumed he wasn’t as liberal with the touching as he was now. “God, that feels nice.” She whispered, letting the shirt fall off her shoulders.

Harry's gaze darkened at the sight of her bare breasts, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. He realized he was getting a little ahead of himself, but he couldn't help it—she was just too captivating. "Yeah?" He smirked at her, letting go of her nipples before reaching up to play with her breasts in their entirety. He lifted them, feeling their weight in his hands, gently massaging with his fingers. He couldn't wait to do the same with the barbells in them.

“H….” Y/N’s voice was scolding but barely so, breathy as she leaned her head back and watched as he held them in his palms. His big fucking hands that felt so good whenever he touched her. “You’re being dirty… I hope you aren’t like this with your paying clients.” She teased.

Letting out a laugh, his thumbs brushing over her nipples as he teased them. "Oh, M’always the most professional with my clients. But with you...I can't help myself." He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, his breath warm on her skin as he added "You're the only one I can be dirty with, Y/N. The only one I can touch however I want, say whatever I want. And right now, I want to bury my face between your tits and not come up for air."

“D’you think you should?” She whispered. “You know… Cause you’re not gonna be able to for a while while they’re healing… feel kinda bad that your favorite toys are gonna be for looking and no touching.”

 "I do think about it, believe me. I fucking hate that they'll be out of bounds for a while." He nuzzled into her neck, groaning softly as he pressed a kiss to the skin. "But at the same time, I'm fucking thrilled to get to see these beauties every day, even if it means no touching." 

“You are insane.” She widened her thighs for him to stand between her legs. “Luckily, I like it. So I give you permission to suck on them a little bit… one last taste for a bit.”

Harry's eyes lit up, and he didn't waste a moment in moving to comply with her request. He leaned forward, capturing one of the nipples between his lips and sucking gently. He could feel her arching into him, moaning softly as he teased the sensitive flesh.

Y/N let out a soft moan, the cool metal of his tongue piercing brushing against the pebbled nipple. his large hand held her breast in his hand, keeping it where he wanted as she leaned back on her hand, giving him access to her chest. “God, that piercing is the best thing you’ve done to yourself.” His tongue was the best one.

Harry chuckled softly against her skin, switching to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment. He was relishing in this moment, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. "I knew you'd like it." he murmured, his words vibrating through her breast.

Holding it still, giving his tongue free reign to tease the the sensitive skin. He could feel her heart beating faster under his touch, her breath hitching as he played with her. It was so lovely that his pleasure in giving was just as appreciated in receiving.

To Y/N, every movement of Harry's tongue sent sparks shooting directly to her cunt. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was concentrated on the tips of her tits, and the cool metal only heightened the sensation. With gentle yet firm sucks and teasing licks, he had her sensitive nipples hardened and tingling, the sensation making her arch into his face. One hand held the back of his neck, her own head falling back as he switched back to the other nipple.

“Jesus…” She laughed breathlessly as his teeth grazed the swollen skin. “Careful, baby. You’ve still got t’pierce it. Don’t make me too sensitive.”

Harry chuckled against her skin, pulling back slightly. "You think m’new at this? I know my girl’s tits, baby." He said, smirking as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I know just how far to push it." 

“Mhm.” She narrowed her eyes at him, reaching up to wipe some of his spit from the corner of his mouth. It was shocking how dirty he could get, considering how clean every other part of his life was. “Let’s go then. I gave you your time. I want my nipples pierced.”

Adjusting his position, albeit with a slight pout, he reached for the tray of sterilized needles and other equipment to get it all ready. He didn’t forget the main objective. "Yes ma'am, we’ll get right to it." He sighed, playfully saluting her.

It took little time before she had Harry carefully cleaning her nipples with a medicated wipe, making sure every inch of skin was prepped for the piercing. He then applied a small amount of numbing gel to minimize any discomfort, massaging it into her nipples with gentle fingers. He tried to innocently say it was to help it work better but she only had to give him a look before he let it be.

“Alright, darlin’. Gonna be just like how I told you, okay?” Giving her a reassuring smile, he settled in front of her. “S’gonna pinch, but it’ll be over quickly. When I start to do it, let out and breat through your nose.” Harry's hands were steady as he picked up the needle, focusing on her left nipple first. He pinched the skin lightly with a sterile clamp, ensuring that her piercing would be straight and perfect. He then aligned the needle, giving her the instruction to give her exhale before pushing it quickly through her skin.

She winced slightly as the needle pierced her skin, but Harry was right there to soothe her. He quickly attached the short piece of jewelry and moved to her other nipple, repeating the process. This time around, she knew what to expect and took it better than before.

Her agony lasted just a moment, but he didn't feel right about letting her endure pain alone. Once her nipples were pierced and the jewelry sturdily in place, he was thorough, making sure everything was clean and sanitary before removing his gloves and gripping her chin and placing a soft peck to her lips. “You, lovely, took that better than most people I’ve ever pierced.” His words were genuine. Y/N really had taken it better than grown men had.

“Really?” Her eyes had teared up a bit during the process and yeah- it had hurt.. But it was tolerable enough. She could feel it throbbing as the new piercings adjusted, Harry helping her pull her shirt back on. He had taken the liberty to button her top back, making her grin at how second nature it was for him. Harry liked to take care of her in any way, she was finding out more and more each day.

His thumb stroked over her cheek to wipe away a stray tear, letting out a little hum. "Yeah, honestly, you did amazing. I'm proud of you. Fuck, I bet you're a beautiful crier, aren't you?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she caressed his jaw. The beard was growing in and she loved how it felt under her fingers as she ran them over his face. “You tell me everything I do is beautiful. I think you’re biased.”

Harry's heart warmed as she caressed his jaw. He fucking loved the feeling of her fingers against him. It had become second nature now for her to touch as she pleased and he couldn’t get enough of it. He leaned into her touch, nuzzling her hand with his cheek before pulling it down to kiss her knuckles.  "Yeah, m’totally fucking biased, but why the hell wouldn't I be?" He smirked down at her, stilling her hands and placing them both around the back of his neck before stealing another kiss. "I think you're beautiful, amazing, fuckin’ hilarious, smart as hell… sexy.” He smirked, making her scoff. “No, none of that. I mean every word.” Cradling her cheek, he took a moment to look at her before his eyes drifted down to his now covered work on her tits. “And M’more than honored that now a piece of my work is on your body.”

He watched as she looked down at her covered chest, he could tell she was admiring the work even while covered. "How do you feel?" He inquired lightly.

“I’m good.” It wasn’t really a pain now more than a soreness. But what she hadn’t expected was how it had… sort of turned her on. That pain and the reminder of it made her wake in a different way. Sure, they’d fucked around a bit and he had spanked her and stuff, but this sort of pain was different. Add in the fact that he had said in a fuck drunk lusty spiel against her ear the night before that he was horny over being the one to give her the piercing because it would feel like another claim to her, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So naturally, it was time to do something about it.

“I think you did a good job… so I think it’s time for your tip.” A mischievous smirk lit up her lips as she slowly slid to the floor from the bench, knees on the tile as she reached for his belt.

"Fuck, baby." Harry couldn't help but groan at her words, his hands finding her hair as she knelt on the floor in front of him. When she began to work on his belt, he felt his cock jerk to attention and he held his breath. “You don’t have t’do that, baby. I… I didn’t do it for you t’suck me.”

“I know.” Her warm hand ran over his cock, feeling it twitch up against her palm. “That’s partially why I wanna.” It was easy work getting his belt off, leaning in and kissing his cock over his jeans. “Is this an acceptable tip?”

Harry's eyes fluttered shut and he leaned back on the counter, his fingers slowly carding through her hair. "Y/N…" he groaned out, his hips moving forward when she mouthed at his erection over the denim. "…yeah, that's an… s’an acceptable tip. Only for you."

Harry's lips parted as he felt her teeth gently skim over the length of his cock through the fabric of his jeans. "Fuck, don’t…" Harry's hands tightened in her hair, his head falling back against the counter as she continued to mouth at his dick through his jeans. "Y/N, stop, please... I don't wanna cum like this. Want your mouth."

“Oh?” Her eyes lit up at how heavily it effected him. “What about this has you all worked up, baby? I’ve barely touched you…”

Harry's breath hitches in his throat as she speaks, his heart racing in his chest. He looks down at her, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and frustration. "It's because you're being so fucking gentle with me." His voice strained as she ran her finger over the waistline of uis jeans. Something about how she treated him, especially when she got that teasing look on her face, got him all riled up.

“Hm… you like me being all gentle, then?” Looking up at him through her lashes, she gently lifted her other hand under his shirt and lightly dragged her nails down his abdomen. “You like when m’nice and sweet to you?”

Harry shuddered at the feeling of her nails scraping against his skin, a low moan rising in his throat. "Fuck, yeah," he gasped out, fingers taking root in her hair. "I love when you're sweet to me… S’nice having such a sweet girl all for me."

“You’re so hot, H.” She grinned, fingers clasping on his button and slowly dragging down his zipper. “I love that you like that about me. Promise I’ll make this good.” his briefs had a wet patch from his cock leaking, her finger tracing over his twitching length. “Wanna be in my mouth?”

Harry's breath hitches as she speaks, his hips jerking forward as her finger traces over his leaking head. "Yes," he whispers, his voice strained. "I want to be in your mouth so fucking bad, m’baby..." He looks down at her, his eyes pleading. "Please, Y/N... just give me somethin’." His hands are tightened slightly in her hair, his body thrumming with need. 

Sharp jaw clenched, his body tensed as she slowly licked along the base of his shaft, lapping up the bead of moisture at the tip. He watches her, his eyes dark with desire, his voice ragged as he mumbled her name again, pulling her further in. Seeing him slightly desperate really did it for her- so she decided to give it to him. Slowly sucking the tip into her mouth, her tongue lapped over the leaking slit before she let herself sink down a little, pulling back with a soft ‘pop’ sound. “Like that?”

Harry groaned, his head falling back as she started to suck on the tip. "Yes, jus’ like that, baby. Suck me right into that perfect mouth.” Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock as she slowly took him in, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Seeing her lips stretched around his girth made him throb harder, his eyes nearly rolling back from the sensation. "That's it, sweetheart. Can I give you some more?"

Before she took him in deeper she nodded, letting Harry's hands find their place in her hair. Holding her in place as he started to thrust gently, his cock slid in and out of her mouth with a sinfully wet sound that had him reeling. His breath hitched as he looked down at her, his perfect vision as he watched his cock disappear between those perfect lips over and over.

Y/N looked like a fucking wet dream. Her lips were plump and stretched around his cock, her cheeks hollowing with every suck. Her eyes were half closed as she focused on him, her brows furrowed in concentration as she took him deeper. A string of spittle connected the tip of his cock to her lips for a moment as she pulled back before plunging back down, her nose nuzzling into the groomed thatch of hair on his groin. Her hands gripped his thighs for support, a blush rising on her cheeks as she continued to pleasure him, letting him lead.

When she took him all the way down, Harry threw his head back and let out a low moan. He felt her gag slightly, her lips brushing against his balls as she tried to take every inch of him. "Oh fuck, baby. That feels so fucking good. Knew you could do it. Tha’s my fucking girl." The guttural groan had her whimpering around him, teary eyes opening a little more to look up at him. It was one of her favorite parts about giving head- getting to see his pretty face contorted with pleasure that she was providing. 

Harry's thighs shook a little as she sucked him messily, her tongue working him over with each bob of her head. He felt himself getting closer to the edge, his breath coming in short, quick bursts. "Shit, sweetheart. M’gonna cum soon if you don't stop." Y/N was talented at giving head, better than anyone he had been with, and it was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because… obviously. A curse, because he didn’t last as long as he wanted to. He wanted to savor every bit of it.

Harry felt his balls tightening, signaling that he was about to come. He didn't want it to end so soon, but Y/N was just too good at what she did for him. He pulled her up and kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. "Goddammit, angel."

She moaned as he kissed her, hand falling down to his spot soaked cock and stroking it in her palm. The wet click of her strokes meddled with their kissing, making her even more eager to finish him off. “It’s okay, baby.” She breathed against his mouth. “Don’t care if it’s quick. Just like making you feel good. I love how you feel in my mouth. Can’t get enough of you. Jus’ let me go back and suck you more, want you to finish in my mouth.”

Harry's breathing quickened at her words. "Shit. If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna fucking cum right now." He closed his eyes as she dropped back to her knees. It was only natural as she went back to sucking him, her hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock as she gave tight strokes.

He really, really couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips as Y/N went back to sucking him. Her tongue worked its magic on his tip before she took him in as deep as she could, swallowing around him to make him hiss. He felt her hand moving in time with her mouth, creating a perfect rhythm.

Harry's eyes rolled back as he felt Y/N's warm lips delve down for a moment, licking over his sac before returning to his cock. He could already tell he wasn't going to last long, the feeling building in his balls. Grabbing onto her already messy hair, he pulled her closer. "Fuck, baby." He could feel his orgasm building, the feeling spreading from his balls and up his shaft. "Ah, fuck, Baby..” he whined, gritting his teeth. “M’gonna cum, keep fuckin’ doing that. My perfect girl, always make me feel so good. Filthy little thing getting on your knees for me after I pierce your tits. God, m’so obsessed with you." He was babbling a bit, but he couldn’t help it. It truly felt so good that he could pass out given the chance. 

Y/N could hear the desperation in Harry's voice, knew he was close. She loved giving him this kind of pleasure, the kind that made him lose it a little bit. Ever since their first time he had no qualms about showing her how much he adored her while she did this, and it only got better with time. As weird as it may seem, she really loved making him feel good, the weight of him in her mouth- but she wanted to finish him. She picked up her pace and used her free hand to fondle his balls.

"Fuuuck..." Harry hissed, his breath hitching as Y/N added that in, making him lose it. It was too much, too fucking much and he loved it. He couldn’t hold back anymore. With a loud moan, he came. It orgasm hit him hard and fast, his cock pulsing against her tongue as he released his load into her warm and waiting mouth. He tried his best to warn her, but he couldn't form words as he rode out his high. Y/N continued to suck him off as he came hard, milking the last of his orgasm out. She swallowed everything, looking up at him with a hum of satisfaction. Harry was utterly spent, and all that could leave his lips was a shaky grunt of her name.

That was the only thing she wanted to hear when he felt good.

Pulling off of him, a string of spit hung between her lips and the tip of his cock as she smiled up at him, utterly pleased with herself. Getting Harry to cum like that was a privilege, one that she was lucky enough to be the only one to do.

Letting out a laugh in disbelief, he grabbed a handful of Y/N's hair and pulled her up to meet his lips in a deep, messy kiss. He tasted himself on her lips and tongue, only adding to his post-orgasm haze. He held her there, kissing her sloppily as he tried to catch his breath. “Fuck me, that was incredible.” He mumbled into the kiss. “Can barely feel my fuckin’ feet.”

“Good.” Her smile was giddy as she pulled back to wipe her mouth, giving him her most innocent smile. “Hope you enjoyed your tip, baby. If I ever find out someone else did the same, I’ll kill them.” She said in an overly sweet tone.

He chuckled, pulling her close again, placing a sweet kiss on her lips. As if he’d ever need anyone else with the way she made him feel. "Only you do it for me, babe."

“Damn right.” She grumbled, pulling back and wiping her mouth. “Now that payment has been approved… I think I need you to feed me actual food, please.”

Still slightly reeling, he hummed, rubbing his hand over his messy hair as he watched her walk off to grab her coat. "Fine, fine. Let's get some food. Can’t let my number one client starve.”