#I'm sorry you had to bury your parents | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kookslastbutton · 8 months ago

Text

what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts au #fic:whatlovefeelslike #kookslastbutton

3K notes · View notes

volleychumps · 5 months ago

Text

When He's your Rival (w/ Tsukishima, Oikawa, Kuroo, and Atsumu) x Fem! reader

enemies to lovers but someone mistakes rivalry with feelings LMAO

Warning(s): cursing! some unwanted touches by an asshole in Oikawa's part, crying- Y/N's a little crybaby sometimes LOL

Tsukishima Kei

"Take a look and cry, four-eyes."

"Go back to fifth grade, I'm begging."

Smirking at his snarky comment, Tsukishima finds the energy to lazily lift his head off the desk, staring blankly at the red 97 inked on the corner of your paper, complete with a messily scrawled circle and a smiley face.

You always were a teacher's pet.

"Nice." The blonde yawns, going to put his head back down. "I scored a 99 though. Guess having four eyes really helps."

He can't stop the satisfied twitch tickling his lips as he buries his head a little further into his crossed arms, the sound of your groan of annoyance music to his ears as you crumple your test paper in your fist.

"This isn't over, Tsukki. I studied all night for this!"

"Don't call me that." He lifts his head to scowl at you as you haughtily spin on your heel, determination in your steps and a gloomy cloud over your head over the loss as he calls after you. "Not my fault you're obsessed with me."

You do a 360, pouting all the while as Tsukishima eyes you evenly, amusement twinkling momentarily in his eyes as he watches you grow flustered.

"I am not! Don't get it twisted, Tsukki- the only thing I'm obsessed with beating your sorry ass!" You crumple up your test paper further, fuming as you leave it on his desk in a childish manner.

"Why is my ass sorry when you're the one who lost?"

Yamaguchi watches on with a sigh, Tsukishima watching you storm off with a little bit more than amusement in his eyes before turning to his childhood friend.

"You feed into this way too much, Tsukki. Y/N is nothing but sweet, why do you bring out the worst in her?"

The tall blonde hums, his hand supporting his right cheek. "It's because she's just so fun to talk to."

Yamaguchi shivers at the cynical tone his childhood friend had taken on, wondering why this childish rivalry between the two of you had been stretched for as long as it was.

"We've known each other since we were kids, Tsukki. Y/N's parents used to joke about you guys marrying each other because you hated each other so bad."

"I don't hate her." Tsukishima's reply is immediate, moving to shift his headphones back onto his ears. "The brat knows I'd take care of her if it came down to it, so quit you're worrying, Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi's expression shifts to one of surprise, but Tsukishima's already distracted, eyeing your crumpled up test before dropping into his bag.

Nothing wrong with taking a trophy, right?

A couple weeks later, you're holding your breath as your eyes scan the top 100 scores in the school during late-study hours, the halls nearly barren, willing your name to be above a certain blonde hair middle blocker before visibly wilting.

"Ah, look." You groan, the utterly amused voice you're not wishing to hear at this moment sounding in your ears as Tsukishima smirks down at you, finger prodding at the box marked Tsukishima Kei before pretending like he's looking for your name.

Not one, but two names down from his.

"Looks like someone didn't study-"

Tsukishima cuts himself off at the sight of your eyes filling up with frustrated tears, not expecting the sight before him to make his chest heavy.

You were always so dramatic.

"Tsukki, you win this time." You sniffle, wiping your eyes haughtily as he looks at the eye bags under your eyes, growing annoyed all of a sudden- even more iriate when he can't figure out why.

He knows this, but why is this effecting him so much?

"Oi." His voice is quiet with an agitated edge, putting a hand on your shoulder to lean you up against the wall. "Why are you so obsessed with this? You're so stupid- crying over something as meaningless as beating me."

Your cheeks puff up at his blatant remarks, his chest tingling before you take a deep breath before knocking your forehead against his, taking the blonde boy by surprise as he glares down at you, rubbing his nose.

"What the hell-"

"I just want to be your equal, you always treat me like I'm such childish brat." You tell him, mixed feelings in your throat as Tsukishima takes on a look of bewilderment. "Ever since we were kids-"

"So you just want my attention, is that it?" Tsukishima's smirking now, the pain in his nose unnoticeable as your expression stiffens, a hint of realization in your eyes as the blonde's throat suddenly grows tight.

"What-"

"Little Y/N, do you have feelings for me?"

"You're not that much older-!"

"Don't avoid the question, brat." Tsukishima's even closer now, hand touching the wall by your waist as your eyes dart all over the hallway. "Is this what all this rivalry is about? Why you care so much about proving-"

"And what if I do?" Your voice quivers for a second, Tsukishima's lips shutting tight at your words before frustrated tears grow in your eyes again. As if realizing what you said, your eyes grow wide with embarrassment- shoving him away before taking off down the hall.

The tall blonde stands there for a second, soaking in the last few minutes before touching the back of his neck, the tips of his ears reddening before sighing deeply.

He rolls his eyes before smirking a little, your confused expression flashing in his mind once more as he wonders what will become of your one-sided rivalry.

Fuck a trophy. He wants to see you make that face again.

Oikawa Tooru

"Tooru, you wanna fight me so bad."

"Just because I want to doesn't mean I will, Y/N-chan. You'll probably lose."

Iwaizumi barks out a laugh as your glare evenly matches Oikawa Tooru's, lightning flashing between the two of you as the brunette crosses his arms with a frown. He almost thinks it's fate- the two of you ending up in the same class seated next to each other with Oikawa by the window.

"The fact that you said probably instead of definitely means we both know Y/N would win in a fight."

"Stay out of this, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa doesn't break eye contact with you, growing more irriated at the sweet smile that overtakes your lips.

"Tooru, I'll start telling people your hair isn't natural in color~" You start doodling on your notes nonchalantly, amused at the popular boy's growth in irritation.

"You wouldn't dare." Oikawa pales at the obvious lie, knowing your effect- how your words would send ripples through the school by the end of the day.

That's right, ever since you transferred schools and gained popularity as the most sought-out girl at Aoba Joshai and had made a passing comment (you didn't really think about it) about how you had no idea who Oikawa Tooru was and didn't really care- the school's popular setter has had it out for you.

Iwaizumi had a huge kick out of it though, satisfied seeing his friend being put in place by the one girl he couldn't really have. You grin cheekily, batting your eyelashes innocently as Oikawa meets it with a pouty stare.

"Why do you care so much of what I think of you?"

"I don't."

"Then piss off." You close your eyes with sugar-laced words, causing Iwaizumi to turn around with a shaking back.

"Iwa-chan, stop laughing!" Oikawa whines, turning his attention back to you with a haughty remark to discover you had stood up and skipped off towards the exit of the classroom.

"She's got me. I'm her fan- I see the hype."

"Iwa-chan, you're supposed to be on my side!"

"Y/N didn't know who you were- big whoop." Matsukawa yawns, leaning back in his seat from in front of Iwaizumi. "Not everyone cares about volleyball."

"And she was new." Hanamaki adds, shrugging his shoulders at the look of betrayal his brunette-friend had sent him. "I'm just saying- maybe your anger is misplaced?"

"Oikawa has a crush~"

"Mattsun- I almost threw up, please." Oikawa sighs, spinning around in his seat with a newfound exhaustion. He looks out the window, eyebrow twitching when he sees you bowed deep in apology to some poor student who was obviously amidst confession. His defined chin touches his palm in thought as anger swirls in his stomach.

How he despises you so.

You were so annoyingly pretty. It was ticking him off, how you spoke so nicely to his three provoking friends yet would barely muster up a smile at him unless it was sarcastic. Oikawa observed as you messily brushed your hair back with your hands to focus on your work, growing even more annoyed when he discovered how much you cared about school.

It was all because he didn't like you, that's why he paid so much attention.

..right?

He's sipping from a can of orange juice, having ducked away from his fanclub to turn a corner of the school no one really frequents when he sees you again later that week.

"Y/N- you always act like you're too good for anybody."

The tall brunette stops at the corner, peering around it while remaining out of sight.

"Maybe I just don't like guys who pressure girls into dating them." You don't miss a beat- but Oikawa hears it, the tinge at the edge of your voice.

Fear.

Some nobody who Oikawa doesn't even know the name of clicks his tongue, grabbing your wrist roughly as you stare down at his strong clasp on you.

"Let me go, you fucking loser." You're pissed off now, smiling your signature grin- the one with no real sweetness behind it. You were afraid to have followed this dangerous guy to an empty part of the school- thinking one of your fellow students would never do this sort of thing.

You were so wrong. His grip tightens as you try to fling his hand off in frustration.

"Pretty Y/N-chan. I'll ruin that face of yours and beat that attitude-"

"Someone isn't taking rejection very well."

You blink in wild surprise as your back touches Oikawa's chest abruptly, his strong grip on the student's wrist as he yanks him off. You don't see him, but you don't have to turn around to know that Oikawa was pissed.

"Get your pretty boy toy out of here, slut." You wince at the insult slightly when the guy doesn't even look at Oikawa, still glaring down at you before Oikawa tugs you gently behind him, towering over the absolute nobody who dared to put a hand on you.

"You shitty coward." You look up at Oikawa's broad back and shoulders, anxiety draining out of your system as Oikawa keeps a firm grip on your hand. He squeezes your hand once, and you get the message.

You're okay.

"Getting physical with girls now, are we? Someone doesn't want to have a future." Oikawa mocks, tilting his head to the side menancingly with a smug grin on his face. "You know what pisses me off the most? When people don't acknowledge my existence."

You've never seen this side of him before.

Suddenly, Oikawa side steps, both arms reaching out to keep you behind him as his grin widens. You cover your mouth at the sight of the student having failed to land a punch on the setter's jaw.

"You attacked me, right?" Oikawa hands you his bag, jaw clenching before easily grabbing the guy's collar, the height difference making him pathetically dangle slightly off the floor. You gasp when his eyes take on a darker edge, delivering a hook of his own to the side of his face, not seeming to hold much back as Oikawa momentarily wonders just what was fueling all this anger.

"What's going on here?! Oikawa Tooru, let him go!"

When he drops him to the floor on command, you're looking at him differently.

Maybe you should've cared a bit more about just who Oikawa Tooru was.

You're still staring when he ignores the teacher, your wrist in his hand as he inspects it, asking you something- but you don't hear him, feeling an unknown swirl in your stomach.

And why the hell he was making you feel something you've never felt before.

Kuroo Tetsurou

"Kuroo, get over it."

"Don't roll your pretty eyes at me, kitten."

You huff, not even bothering to look up at the raven-haired captain as you check another tally on your clipboard. Another successful receive for Lev.

"How do you do it?"

"Kuroo, we've been over this-"

"Blah blah blah."

The interruption ticks you off, prompting you to finally look up from your work as Kuroo Tetsurou smirks down at you easily.

"It's not my fault they like me so much."

"They can't like you more than me! I'm the captain!"

"Someone's insecure."

It's Kuroo's turn to grow irritated at your remark, and you smirk successfully as Kenma sighs at the sight of you two from across the court. Yamamoto sweat drops, bouncing a volleyball off the wall as you and Kuroo begin bickering. You were annoyed as the taller captain grinned easily down at you.

"Why does Kuroo-san hate Y/N so much?"

"No idea. She makes me cookies when I listen well during practice!" Lev adds brightly. "If anything, Kuroo's the villain."

"Nah." Kenma doesn't look up from his game, thankful you're keeping his childhood friend occupied so he can't make him practice. "Kuroo doesn't hate her."

The surrounding members still, eyeing the short boy weirdly as the volume of you two bickering rises in the background.

"He definitely bothers her because it's fun." Kenma flicks his joystick, suddenly immersed in the level as it grows more interesting. "I wouldn't be surprised if he likes her."

Kenma's just speaking his mind at this point, but his fellow teammates don't believe him as Kuroo flicks your forehead, breaking off in a run as you chase him out of the gym in irritation.

"Yeah. Sure."

"Okay everyone," you begin, fiddling with your papers as the volleyball team sit in a circle with their knees tucked into their chest, hanging on to your every word as you try not to smile at how well-behaved they were. "Nekomata-sensei is out today, and he left instructions-"

"We'll be practicing in 3-on-3's."

You hold back a groan as Kuroo cuts you off, standing up easily as the tension between the two of you rises. He cocks his head to the side like what? with a growing smirk on his handsome features, causing your irritation to grow further. To annoy you on the sidelines of practice was one thing, but to disrupt you in front of the team is another.

"Anyways, like I was saying-"

"Shouldn't the captain know what's best for his team?"

Oh you hated being cut off.

You meet him with an even stare, trying not to let your temper get the best out of you.

"Kuroo-"

"Call me Tetsurou, Y/N-chan."

Kenma sighs when the lead of your mechanical pencil breaks against the clipboard, knowing Kuroo was pushing limits he hadn't before.

"Alright, Tetsurou." Your voice is venomous, shoving the clipboard with their coach's instructions into Kuroo's hands with an aggression you were having trouble controlling. You were so mad you began to see your vision get blurry, suddenly exhausted from the captain's antics and why he wouldn't leave you alone.

"You lead practice then." Kuroo's easy smirk grows into a worried stare at the sight, watching you storm off before he can get another word out.

"Boo, you made our manager cry."

"This is why you'll die alone."

"Y/N for president!"

But Kuroo isn't listening to the obvious slander from his teammates, putting the clipboard down before jogging off after you, Kenma rolling his eyes to unzip his gym bag for his switch.

"He flirts like a little school boy."

The raven-haired third year catches you in the halls, frustrated with yourself as your back touches the shoe lockers behind you. You didn't mean to overreact. It was something about him that made you so-

"I'm sorry, Y/N."

"Don't apologize." You grumble, looking straight on ahead before glancing upwards. Kuroo awkwardly takes a seat next to you, the sound of after-school activities filling the air in your silence.

"Do you hate me or something?"

Kuroo blinks once, guilt filling his chest at the ideas in your head before hanging his head with a heavy sigh. It seems he took his antics a bit too far.

"Y/N, you're just fun to tease." He drops the nickname, and you smile a bit knowing he's serious. "I don't mean to make you upset. The team loves you, and I..."

He trails off, causing you to cock an eyebrow. Kuroo looks away quickly, clearing his throat before looking back at you-

to see you genuinely smiling at him, his chest suddenly tight.

"That's a relief. You're too much sometimes, but I can't say I don't enjoy our conversations. I didn't mean to over-react-" You cut yourself off, suddenly worried as you raise a hand to his forehead. "Wow, you're suddenly flushed. Are you sick, Tetsurou?"

He grows a shade darker when your sweet voice calls his first name, seeming to short-circuit in front of you as question marks seem to appear by your face.

Meanwhile, the team shushes each other as they peer around the corner of the hallway, Yamamoto and Lev's mouth agape as a certain gamer merely shrugs.

"Told you so."

"Nobody likes a know-it-all, Kenma."

Atsumu Miya

"'Samu, tell me I'm better than her."

"I'm not lyin' to ya', twin or not."

Almost immediately, the blonde setter glares at his own flesh and blood, Osamu offering a slight smirk in response at his brother's irritation. Atsumu sinks lower in his seat, pouting as Suna rolls his eyes to the right of him.

"Can't believe I'm spending my precious free time to watch more volleyball."

Atsumu isn't listening to his friend, silently focused at the way you controlled the court, triumphant grin on your face as you score the winning point to take the first set. In fact, you had scored over half the points, the other team's blockers barely standing a chance. He had to come see it. All the buzz around school can't have been for nothing.

Y/N L/N. Volleyball prodigy that seemed to have come out of thin air.

Osamu whistles lowly. "Y/N's kinda like you."

"Don't insult me, 'Samu." But Atsumu knows he doesn't mean it. Suna glances at his friend once, sipping his drink casually as Atsumu gets a glint in his eye, fire seeming to erupt in the back around him.

"Oho, Atsumu's got a rival." Suna isn't too interested, merely observing his surroundings as Osamu coughs back a chuckle.

"Shuddup." Atsumu mumbles, eyes meeting yours as you look up at the stands to see just who was burning holes into your head. He shakes his head with a smirk on his lips when you cockily blow a kiss in his direction.

"Y/N...that's Atsumu Miya, you do know he goes to our school, right?"

"Oh...shit." You back down, suddenly embarrassed as you look away, Atsumu's eyes spinning with amusement and eagerness to one-up you, the cheers of the stadium mocking in his ears.

So low in behold, you try not to let the surprise etch onto your features when Atsumu is pointing a finger at you, having escaped the boy's gym to crash your practice when after-school activities come around.

"You." You blink, utterly confused as your teammates squeal in excitement at his presence. "Yer' practicin' with me, got that?"

Your jaw slackens at the audacity, wondering if he wanted to practice or if he wanted to prove something. Atsumu knew he had the right idea about you when you take a step forward, tilting your head in challenge.

"Think you can keep up?"

"Oi, stop harassing Y/N at the girl's gym and practice with your team." Aran puts emphasis on his words as Osamu snickers from behind him, watching his twin get scolded as Kita sighs.

"She is very good at what she does." The captain nods. "But that doesn't mean our paths have to cross with the girls'- in fact, they never should."

"Then let her play here." Atsumu doesn't care if he doesn't make any sense. "Y/N runs circles around her team anyways- hell, she's pullin' the whole team on her back."

The Inarizaki team resist the urge to roll their eyes at their setter's blatant slander. Osamu is amused, tying up the net as he attempts to tame his twin.

"She runs circles 'round you, that's for sure."

Suna stifles a laugh as Atsumu feels it again. Competition. He loved the feeling of it- the feeling that things were finally getting interesting.

He's walking towards the girl's gym again to drag you out to play with his team so he can play against you, when something he hears makes him pause in his step.

"I just don't understand what Atsumu-kun sees in her!" It's a high pitched whine, one that causes his eyes to darken.

"Right? It's not like Y/N is pretty or anything like that."

"She's good at volleyball- so what? It's not like she'd be anywhere without her team."

A tap on his shoulder is what breaks him out of his eavesdropping, turning slowly to see you standing there with a sad smile, grip tightening on the bag filled with drinks- you had went to get drinks for the entire team, while they boldly slandered you behind your back.

Your voice is hushed, but tinged with a bit of hurt as you shrug.

"It's just the way of the game."

"Like hell it is." Atsumu growls, swinging open the door as you gape at the action. Before you can react, Atsumu's laugh is resounding through the gym as you peek out from behind his back.

"Oh my god, aren't you three bench warmers? Yer' the ones talkin' shit?" He can't hold back his laughter as you audibly sigh from behind him.

"A-Atsumu-"

"Oi." The blonde isn't laughing anymore, eyes on the edge of menacing as he cracks his neck, eyes darkening. "Squeal all you want, just hope and pray I'm not there to listen to it."

"Y/N-senpai, we're so sorry!" You blanch at the three girls who were now bowing profusely in front of you before assuring them it's fine, tugging on Atsumu's arm with an eyeroll.

"We need to talk."

"You know, you are pretty." Atsumu grumbles as you tug him along. "I don't know why they-"

"I can fight my own battles, 'Tsumu." You huff at the boy in front of you, considering him both your rival and your friend. "It's just misplaced jealousy- don't make it worse between my teammates and I. I would've said something- come on, do you know me?"

Atsumu stands there for a second, soaking in your words as a slow realization comes onto him. This whole time, he's been treating you like a rival, a thing, something to propel him further and sharpen his skills-

not realizing he had slowly grown to care about you a little more than a rival maybe should. He had moved without thinking, the thoughtless words not meant for his ears pissing him off way more than it would've any other person.

But this was you. You always walked along your bicycle when he insisted on walking you home, making him listen to your music as you trained before eventually making playlists for him when he told you how much he liked it. You trained with him for as long as he wanted, even going to the public gym together when you trained with your respective teams.

Atsumu is still staring at you, seeming to process something as you laugh a little at his expression as the sun begins to set behind your figure.

"I'm not mad at you. Come on, I'll bring you back."

"Quit treatin' me like a stray." Atsumu mumbles, but he's unfocused, burning holes into the back of your head as you tug him along, smiling back at him.

"You have a bad habit of staring at me, you know?"

Oh shit.

"Well, you did call me pretty and all." You tease, winking once as you wave at his team in the distance, waiting by the practice gym to continue the practice as his prolonged absence ended up affecting the entire team.

Atsumu ducks his head as his twin smirks at the sight, Atsumu's face on fire as his eyes lock on to where you're hand is touching his arm.

He's so fucked.

1K notes · View notes

mingtinys · 8 months ago

Text

" you should rest "

pairing : choi seungcheol x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : language

word count : 0.5 k

a/n : super super excited to be doing this little mini-series starting off with seungcheol !!

You're rudely awoken from your slumber by the slamming of brakes and Seungcheol throwing curses at the car in front of him. Your seat belt stops your momentum, though you can't say the same about your poor suitcases and bags in the back seat that tumble forward with a violent thud.

"Fucking idiot," he mutters, then looks over to you with a complete change of expression. "Are you okay?" He's still got his arm extended over your chest like a mother.

"I'm okay, are you?"

"Yeah," he sighs, letting his arm drop from its protective position in favor of resting his hand on your inner thigh. He squeezes ever so lightly in an attempt to ground himself. "Asshole cut me off and then slammed his brakes. I'm sorry to wake you."

You hum, reaching out to brush back his bangs from his eyes. A fond smile lights up his features at the gesture. "S'okay. How much longer do we have left?"

"About an hour or so."

An hour!?

"Cheol!" You scold, shuffling to sit up in your seat. "You were supposed to wake me up an hour ago to switch off!"

If there was only an hour left that meant he'd been driving for nearly three already. You only meant to nap during his half of the drive to your parents' house then you would finish the rest so he could get some sleep. You even made him promise about three times over to wake you up, but it seems that went unheard.

He just shrugs and steals a glance at you, that signature pout playing at his lips. "I don't mind. Besides, you've seemed stressed lately, I figured you could use the extra rest."

Admittedly, the extra shut-eye was pretty nice. But still, you wish he would've woken you. "I appreciate it, but I'll feel guilty if you take the whole drive. Pull over and we'll switch off for the last bit."

Stubborn as always, Seungcheol shakes his head. "I'll take care of everything, you should rest." There's honestly no arguing with him over stuff like this. So you just sigh and grumble about conquering the trip back on your own to make up for it. Seungcheol just chuckles at your dissent. "You're too cute."

You curl up in your seat once more, turning so you can admire glare at your boyfriend who's a little too happy with himself. He notices, and the way his lips crack into a smile is irritatingly adorable. Seungcheol reaches his arm to the back, fishing out his coat that had been buried under your multitude of travel bags. Placing it over your legs, he steals another lingering glance.

"You're not forgiven yet, I'm still mad at you." It's probably the least threading sentence you've ever uttered in your life. Your voice sounds whiney, even to you, and that really makes Seungcheol laugh.

"I know, baby. Sweet dreams."

2K notes · View notes

pin-k-ink · 1 month ago

Text

UNDER ONE ROOF ⋆✦⋆ kuroo tetsurou

synopsis ➸ kuroo didn’t know what he was agreeing to when he said yes to watching over you for two weeks. now, with you constantly coming onto him, he’s quickly realizing how hard it is to say no—and how much he doesn’t want to.

tags ➸ dílf!kuroo, huge age gap (20s + 40s), unhèalthy relationship dynamics, manipùlation, reader is a huge brat and she will get on your nerves, brat tamer!kuroo, mastúrbation (m & f), jealousy, possèssive behavior, dírty talking, gròping, heavy pétting, manhándling, mention of an injúry, degradàtion, slút-shàming, dry hùmping, unprotected séx, marathon séx, face fućking, bloŵjob, squírting, beggíng

wc ➸ 20.6k (i’m so sorry 💀)

"Dad, I'll be fine. You're overreacting as usual." You struggled to keep the exasperation out of your tone as Kenma pulled up to Kuroo's apartment complex.

Kenma killed the engine but kept a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. "I'm not overreacting. I'm being realistic based on your...track record." His jaw clenched minutely before continuing. "Just promise me you'll exercise some semblance of self-control this time?"

You pursed your lips, refraining from an outright eye roll. "It wasn't that big of a deal, okay? A few too many people at my place, that's all."

The flat, unamused look Kenma leveled your way made you shrink back slightly. "Neighbors had to call the police to break up your 'few too many people,' and I had to bail you out after they found you...indecently exposed with two random guys. Again."

Heat crept up the back of your neck at the reminder. In your defense, you'd been severely intoxicated and those two strangers had been very persuasive...and enthusiastic. Not that your father wanted to hear any of the details, based on the muscle ticking in his jaw.

"Look, that's why I'm leaving you with Kuroo this time," he pressed on, voice taking on that no-nonsense edge. "He'll keep you in line until I get back from this business trip. No promiscuous behavior, no binge drinking, nothing that could jeopardize your future."

Your fists clenched at the insinuation you were just some reckless, irresponsible child who needed constant supervision. Yes, maybe you enjoyed letting loose a bit more than most well-behaved college students. But you were an adult, damn it! Perfectly capable of looking after yourself without strict babysitting.

Before you could unleash the sharp retort burning on your tongue, there was a rap on the window. Kuroo's laidback grin appeared in the glass as he waggled his fingers in greeting.

"Ah, right on time! Was starting to worry you two had bailed on me," he chuckled, eyes crinkling in that easygoing way you'd always adored.

You seized the opportunity to exit the car before further lecturing could commence. Kuroo pulled you into one of his trademark bear hugs once you were vertical, squeezing with affectionate zeal.

"Took you long enough to get here, troublemaker," he murmured fondly into your hair. "Was starting to think I'd have to stay bored and lonely without my best girl around."

A pleasant shiver danced along your nape at the husky timbre of his voice so close to your ear. Kuroo had always been an indulgent, affectionate presence in your life - a welcome counterbalance to Kenma's frequently stern parenting. Growing up, you'd often admired the easy charisma and confidence your father’s best friend exuded. Part of you wondered, in a distant, abstract way, what it might be like to bask in that roguish charm aimed at you directly...

You quickly banished the stray thought, burying your face into Kuroo's solid chest instead as his arms tightened further. "Don't be so clingy, old man. I'll only be here for a couple weeks."

Behind you, the driver's side door creaked open, signaling Kenma's arrival. Kuroo tossed your father a grin over your head, not loosening his hold on you in the slightest.

"Ah, there's the doting dad now! C'mon, we can continue the lecture inside over some beers." His eyes danced with undisguised amusement as Kenma bristled slightly at the jab.

"Very funny, Kuroo," Kenma muttered, mouth set in a flat line. "But I do need to lay down some ground rules if she's staying with you for a while."

You extricated yourself from Kuroo's snug embrace, stepping back and crossing your arms over your chest defiantly as Kenma stepped closer. The tension between the two best friends thrummed familiarly - Kuroo radiating easy humor while Kenma maintained stern disapproval.

Your dad took a steadying breath before fixing you with a level stare. "I'm serious about this. You are not to throw any parties, end up in compromising positions with strangers, or make any unilateral decisions that could derail your education-"

"Oh my god, Dad!" The whine escaped before you could stop it. "I'm an adult, not a misbehaving toddler! When are you going to start treating me that way?"

Kenma opened his mouth, eyes flashing dangerously, but Kuroo quickly moved to insert himself between you both. His hands landed on your shoulders, calm yet firm, pulling your heated focus to him.

"Now now, you two, let's not jump straight into argument mode so soon. We'll have plenty of time to bicker later." He shot you a wink before shifting his gaze to Kenma. "I've got this under control. I know exactly how to keep our little hellraiser in line without killing her spirit."

Kenma stared at his friend, a thousand unspoken retorts flickering behind his eyes. You could practically see his inner monologue debating whether he could truly trust the two of you alone together for an extended period. At last, a weary sigh slipped past his lips.

"Fine, I'm putting my faith in you, Kuroo. For now." He leveled you with one final, intense stare that made you want to squirm. "But any misbehavior at all and I'm sending in reinforcements, understood?"

Whether he meant to hire an actual bodyguard or simply sick your mother on you, the threat was painfully clear. You nodded tersely, holding Kenma's gaze and refusing to be the first to look away. A battle of wills you were determined not to lose, if only to prove how much of an "adult" you were.

At last, Kuroo chuckled and slung a companionable arm around your shoulders, breaking the weighted tension between you and your father. "See? All settled! Now how about you head out and let me get my quality niece-uncle bonding time in before she gets sick of me?"

Though the sarcastic jibe brought a faint smirk to Kenma's lips, you could tell his dubious hesitation lingered. Nevertheless, your father stepped forward to enfold you in a tight hug, one you returned fiercely despite your earlier exasperation.

Kenma pulled away first, squeezing your shoulder and studying your features carefully. "Stay out of trouble. Please? For me?"

You mustered up your most reassuring smile, leaning in to peck his cheek lightly. "I'll be a perfect angel, Daddy. I promise."

The obvious lie should have rankled more than it did. But Kenma simply sighed and shook his head in resignation, adjusting his grasp on his travel bag as he prepared to depart.

"I'll hold you to that. Behave for Kuroo and...and I'll see what souvenir I can find for you in Italy..."

His muttered bribe brought an inadvertent grin to your lips as Kuroo ushered you back toward the apartment with a theatrical bow and exaggerated flourish of his free arm.

"And so the bonding festivities commence! C'mon troublemaker, prepare for the best girls' staycation your hot single uncle can provide!"

Kuroo's playful declaration had you rolling your eyes so hard they threatened to relocate. "Hot single uncle? Seriously? That's just creepy on so many levels."

He shrugged unapologetically, steering you through the lobby with his arm still slung around your shoulders. "What? I'm hot, I'm single, and while not technically related by blood, I'm about as close to an uncle as you've got."

You pulled a face of exaggerated disgust. "Please don't ever call yourself my uncle again. That's like...an instant boner-killer."

Kuroo's barking laughter echoed through the small space, and you grinned despite yourself. There was something innately infectious about his easy charm and rapscallion energy. "Wow, damn! Way to just completely obliterate any sense of family-friendly bonding, kiddo."

"Don't call me kiddo either," you retorted as the elevator doors slid open with a chime. "I'll be twenty-two next month, remember? Not exactly a child anymore."

You could feel the heat of Kuroo's assessing stare sliding over you, just on the periphery of your vision. The casual rake of it made you sit up fractionally straighter, all too aware of how your low-cut shirt gapped to reveal hints of cleavage from this angle.

"Oh trust me, I'm well aware you're not a kid anymore," he murmured, the undercurrent to his tone giving you pause.

But when you glanced over at him, Kuroo's expression was as impassively playful as ever. Not a single lascivious hitch to indicate he might have been venturing into more suggestive waters...which, of course, was precisely where your own thoughts had begun meandering unbidden.

The elevator dinged your arrival at Kuroo's floor, and he ushered you out ahead of him with a hand pressing warmth to the small of your back. The hallway blurred past in a vague tableau of drab carpeting and nondescript doors until he was guiding you into the first one off the small entry corridor.

You turned in a slow circle as Kuroo flipped on the lights, taking in the surprisingly spacious guest suite. Abstract art prints lined the walls, lending a vibrant splash of color amidst the black furniture and modern fixtures.

"Not too shabby," you remarked, lifting an impressed brow Kuroo's way. "Not what I pictured at all for a washed-up old man with no wife or life."

Kuroo scoffed in faux-offense, tossing the small duffel of clothes Kenma had packed for you onto the plush queen bed. "First off, I'm only fourty-six, brat. Second, I'll have you know this place is basically an Adonis' palace where all the finest honeys flock."

You quirked a dubious eyebrow, gaze deliberately sweeping over the space with exaggerated appraisal. "Right, 'cause I can totally see you whipping out those cheesy lines while trying to seduce some poor girl back here."

Before you could evade, Kuroo closed the distance and yanked you flush against his chest in a grip far more sensual than the earlier hug. You inhaled sharply at the sudden intimate proximity, meeting his intense stare from beneath your lashes. Kuroo smelled of sandalwood and peppery musk, a scent that was bafflingly more intoxicating than you'd ever noticed.

"Who says I'd need lines other than the truth?" He murmured, voice pitched low enough to ghost tingles down your nape. "Why go for cheesy when 'I want you' works just as well in the right tone?"

Your mouth felt abruptly parched, throat clicking in a tight swallow you couldn't quite stifle. The steady thrum of Kuroo's heart against your own fluttering pulse made you hyperconsciously aware of the lack of space between your bodies. The hard wall of his chest, the sinuous strength of his arms bracketing you against him, the faint tickle of his breath against your brow...

You rallied yourself with visible effort, putting on a show of extracting yourself from his arms and rolling your eyes in dismissal. "Wow, Kuroo, can't take you anywhere without the bachelor desperation vibes taking over," you chided with an airy laugh. "Good thing any girl with half a brain knows your bark is way worse than that impotent bite of yours."

Kuroo snorted, clearly unfazed by the brush-off. "Ouch, that hurts coming from my favorite companion." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the hallway. "C'mon, I'll give you the full penthouse tour while the slander is fresh."

As you followed him out, you couldn't resist one final flustered jab. "Please, do not refer to me as your 'companion' ever again. I don't need those gross old-man vibes getting all over me."

But even as the teasing counters continued flowing freely between you, brimming with practiced ease and playful brio, a newfound undercurrent seemed to lace each exchange. There was a thrilling energy now, veins of irresistible temptation and tension brimming just beneath the surface.

You found your gaze continually straying to trace the lines of Kuroo's body in ways it never had before. Mapping the shift of firm muscle and masculine definition barely concealed beneath his fitted t-shirt. Fixating on the sharp hollow of his throat each time he tilted his head back in unrestrained laughter. Drinking in the ruggedly handsome contours of his face as if seeing them for the very first time through the lens of burgeoning desire rather than familial fondness.

And from the heated glances you continually intercepted raking over your own frame, Kuroo seemed equally as preoccupied with thoroughly appreciating the woman you'd matured into, absently licking his lips whenever you turned away. Almost as if he too were acutely, viscerally aware of the new precedents being set between you.

Still, when you wandered back to flop gracelessly onto your temporary bed with a contented sigh, Kuroo knew better than to allow things to escalate too precipitously. One broad palm landed atop your head, smoothing your tumbled hair back from your forehead with an endearment more akin to an indulgent older brother than anything else.

You shot him a sly look from beneath your lashes, immediately recognizing this for what it was - Kuroo's subtle attempt to steer you both back into familiar, innocuous territory before the simmering undercurrents got away from you.

Well, two could play at that game.

With a put-upon huff, you rolled onto your back, deliberately arching your spine in an indolent stretch that made your shirt ride up to bare a sliver of toned midriff. You caught the telltale stutter in Kuroo's breathing, the way his heated stare latched onto the newly exposed stretch of skin like a magnet.

Slowly, methodically, you trailed your fingertips along the taut vee of muscles just visible beneath the hem of your top. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips in a show of exaggerated absentmindedness as you continued trailing indolent circles around your navel.

"Mmm, you know..." you murmured, letting your voice drop into a lower, sultrily purring register that had Kuroo's undivided attention snapping back to your face. "I could use a little...stress relief after Dad's interrogation out there."

You punctuated the blatant invitation with another tantalizing arch of your spine, pushing your breasts higher and straining against the thin fabric. A calculated glance slanted his way revealed Kuroo swallowing hard, looking distinctly like a man warring with his baser instincts.

"I'm sure we could find a fun way for us both to unwind after he put me through the wringer," you pressed, tracing patterns lower, dangerously closer to the button of your too-tight shorts. "Work off all that...heated tension before you call me out for dinner?"

Kuroo's nostrils flared as his jaw went rigid, and for a breathless heartbeat, you were certain he would finally succumb. That the carnal need simmering behind those sharp hazel eyes would win out over restraint and detonate between your tangled forms here and now. Your blood thrummed with peaky arousal, entire body liquid heat and tightly-coiled anticipation.

But then Kuroo expelled a low, rueful chuckle and the spell was broken. He raked one broad palm through the artful disarray of his hair, regarding you with an undeniable glint of dark amusement that only fuelled your petulance.

"Nice try, kiddo," he husked, the low timbre sending unwanted tingles rocketing through you. "But you're gonna have to work harder to unravel me with those moves. Not my first time fending off your wiles, remember?"

Your lips twisted in a pout you knew full well drew his gaze inexorably. "Maybe I don't want to just fend you off," you retorted, hoping the petulant whine in your tone conveyed precisely how turned on you were feeling. "Maybe this time, getting you riled up is the entire point."

Kuroo's brows winged higher as his gaze openly raked over your splayed form once more. This time, his yearning appraisal brought tingles of wicked satisfaction rather than self-consciousness.

"Trust me, gorgeous," he managed at last, voice gone tellingly husky. "Part of me would love nothing more than showing you just how riled you've gotten me. But we both know how that story has to end – with your dad hunting me down and gelding me within an inch of my life."

Your mouth opened to formulate a retort - a scathing denial of your tame, saintly reputation that had Kenma forever playing over-protective warden. But Kuroo didn't give you the chance to voice it.

One broad, calloused palm cupped your cheek with surprising tenderness, the rough pads of his fingers trailing sparks against your suddenly oversensitized skin. You felt the air leave your lungs in a harsh exhalation, held paralyzed beneath the searing, unguarded intensity of Kuroo's molten stare.

"So as tempting as you look," he rasped in that low, wrecked timbre that shot liquid heat arrowing through your core, "I'm not about to jeopardize what we've got over one round of pent-up games, yeah?"

Something inside you clenched at the implicit reminder – no matter what sinfully delicious tension existed between you, Kuroo still saw himself as almost family at the end of the day. He would never actually cross that forbidden line, no matter how persistently you tempted and goaded.

The realization flooded you with an odd blend of yearning, frustration, and reluctant respect for his restraint. You opened your mouth to spit out whatever caustic retort might help preserve your carefully cultivated blasé front-

"Tell you what," Kuroo pressed on before you could marshal the words, his thumb tracing a searing path along the plump bow of your lower lip in a blatantly intimate caress. "You promise to stow that wicked mouth and insatiable appetites of yours for the rest of the evening? And I'll take you shopping tomorrow night, just the two of us."

Your breath hitched audibly as he leaned closer still, heated exhalation gusting against the sensitized whorls of your ear to send delicious tingles arrowing straight to your core.

"Show me you can be an honest-to-god good girl for once, and I'll give you a grand adventure worth staying out of trouble for..."

With that sinful promise dangling tantalizingly in the air, Kuroo pulled back, lips curved in that same roguish smirk yet now laced with the undisguised promise of rewards still to come. He regarded you through heavy-lidded bedroom eyes, blatantly awaiting your breathless capitulation or further, fruitless temptation.

Your chest heaved with sharp, ragged pants you couldn't quite stifle. With tremendous effort of will, you kept your rebuttals and wanton offers leashed, refusing to give him any further cause to refuse your attempts at seduction outright. Not when the carrot of some unknown indulgence dangled so enticingly above you.

Eventually, Kuroo seemed satisfied by your mute surrender. He dipped his chin, lips brushing your fevered brow in a shockingly tender brand of possession and benediction.

"Good girl," he murmured in a hoarse growl that had your core musculature fluttering anew. "Put this behind us for now, and I promise you'll get everything you've been craving later..."

With one final searing caress that felt burned into the curve of your flushed cheek long after he retreated, Kuroo turned and made his way out of the guest suite. Leaving you a hot, shaky mess of thwarted need and simmering what ifs that felt poised to burst into searing reality sooner rather than later – even if he wouldn't be so easily taken before then.

As Kuroo moved about the kitchen preparing dinner, his thoughts were utterly consumed by the simmering tension now charging the air between you and him. He couldn't tear his mind away from replaying your bold attempts at seduction earlier, or how painfully tempting you'd looked splayed out so wantonly on the guest bed.

His hands stilled on the cutting board, knife poised over half-chopped vegetables as Kuroo's gaze went hazy with recollection. The way your shirt had ridden up to tease at soft midriff and the teasing vee of your hips. The subtle roll of your spine as you arched into an indolent stretch - so calculated yet seemingly artless in its invitation. And that come-hither rasp of your voice dropping into unrepentant sin, offering searing delights Kuroo shouldn't even entertain indulging.

A harsh exhalation gusted past his lips as desire, so cruelly reawakened yet stubbornly restrained, gave a sullen throb low in his groin. Kuroo couldn't deny being utterly transfixed when you turned your wiles on him like that. Some deep, primal part of him yearned to surrender - to take you up on that scorching proposal and show you exactly how "riled" you'd gotten him all these years with the slow burn of your teasing.

In his mind's eye, Kuroo easily pictured stalking back over to crouch above your reclined form, pinning your wrists to the mattress on either side of your head. He'd drink in every molten inch of you spread wantonly before him, from the sheen of exertion and arousal glazing your skin to the impudent quirk of your lips as you challenged him to make good on unvoiced threats.

Kuroo could practically taste the erotic potential crackling between your barely parted forms. All it would take was one decisive roll of his hips to grind his cock against your cloth-dampened heat. You'd stifle a strangled sound of yearning, back arching greedily to chase that first forbidden frisson—

"Tetsurou?"

The sound of his given name on your lips jolted Kuroo violently from his spiraling fantasy. The knife slipped in his suddenly vice-like grip, knicking open his palm with a bright blossom of crimson. He hissed out a sharp curse, both at the stinging pain and the fact he'd been so utterly consumed by his hunger for you he hadn't registered your approach.

You tsked sympathetically from somewhere behind him now, sending tingles of visceral awareness skating down his nape. "Need me to kiss it better and make the owie go away?" You crooned in that soft, saccharine tone Kuroo knew damn well was more velvet sheath for venom than genuine innocence.

He whirled to face you, pulse jackrabbiting beneath his ribs when he found you perched on the counter directly beside the scene of his lapse in focus. One leg was folded up against your chest, the other swinging lazily off the edge - all purposefully indolent insouciance and inescapable awareness of the effect you had on him.

"How generous," Kuroo forced out in a roughened rumble, trying for glib detachment even as his gaze raked hungrily over the strip of thigh exposed beneath your tiny sleep shorts. "Pretty sure I've got some bandaids around here somewhere that'll work just as well, but thanks."

Rather than retreating, you merely smirked wider and leaned forward a fraction, putting your breasts on indecently tantalizing display in that threadbare tanktop. "Suit yourself. But I was hoping for an excuse to get on my knees and lavish some personal attention for once..."

The blatant invitation hung suspended between you in a haze of static charge and spiraling heat. Kuroo could feel his self-restraint fast eroding, each labored breath stoking the banked embers of temptation simmering hotter by the second. His mind raced frantically, scrambling for some witty deflection or hasty retreat—

Before he could succeed, your tongue slipped out to trace a maddeningly slow path over the plump swell of your lower lip. "You know I've been told I have exceptional mouth-to-mouth skills for this sort of...situation," you murmured, voice pitched low and rough enough to feel like a physical caress along his thundering pulse. "Seems a shame to let that talent go to waste any longer than necessary, hmm?"

Kuroo couldn't stop the low, graveled growl of undisguised yearning that tore free from somewhere primal and smoldering at your teasing insinuation. Nor could he tear his gaze away from the wanton paths your fingertips traced over the bare expanses of skin you'd so meticulously put on display. Stomach clenching with mingled arousal and heated frustration, he took a single step forward, fully intending to—

He cut himself off sharply, turning on his heel and stalking away from the temptation of your poised, feline sprawl with every ounce of restraint he could muster. You watched him flee with heavy-lidded awareness, lips curved in a victorious smirk that only stoked Kuroo's smoldering urgency further.

"I need a cold fucking shower," he tossed over his shoulder in a guttural rasp. "Don't wait up, gorgeous. I'll come collect you when I've regained some goddamn rationale around that mouth of yours..."

The last, damning word seemed to resonate in the weighted silence he left hanging in his wake. Kuroo tried desperately to focus on the promise of frigid spray rather than the tortuous vision of your plump lips wrapped so prettily around that very phrase - and what other searing delights they might bring to blissful fruition between your tangled forms.

Somehow, he had to regain control before the next few weeks of close proximity eroded the last of his resolve entirely. You deserved far better than falling to his weaknesses in such a desperate moment. And he deserved far sterner retribution than even Kenma could deliver should he ever give in to the temptation of tainting you so profanely...

Dinner passed in a tense spiral of heated glances and loaded silence. Despite your outward veneer of angelic politeness, Kuroo could see the glint of challenge smoldering behind every coy flutter of lashes directed his way.

You seemed utterly focused on dismantling his restraint inch by excruciating inch. From the way you lapped up every stray crumb or droplet of sauce from your full lips with maddening leisure, to the insistent press of your stocking-clad foot tracing sinuous paths along his calf beneath the table's cover. Each tiny gauntlet thrown down made Kuroo's blood rush hotter, stoking his arousal to increasingly painful intensity with every passing moment.

By the time you'd retired for the evening with a sultry murmur of "Sweet dreams, Tetsu," Kuroo could barely see straight past the relentless fog of yearning clouding his thoughts. His skin felt seared from your seemingly innocuous caresses and teasing touches, every nerve ending overwrought to the point of maddening hypersensitivity.

The second Kuroo's bedroom door thudded closed behind him, he was already shucking his clothes in a fevered whirlwind - buttons popping and fabric tearing as he frantically shed the barriers separating him from the relief he so desperately craved. Within moments he collapsed back onto his bed in only his boxers, hand shoved unceremoniously beneath the tented cotton to fist around his painfully hard cock.

A guttural groan of pure ecstasy gusted from Kuroo as he started shamelessly pumping himself with rough, frantic strokes. Visceral scenarios of bending your body over the dinner table and rucking up that little skirt you'd worn instantly unfurled behind his clenched eyelids. He could practically feel the tight, slick heat of your cunt gripping him to the hilt as he surged forward to stake his claim.

"Fuck...gonna feel so goddamn good wrapped around me," He hissed through gritted teeth, thrusts becoming more erratic as the sinful image of your head thrown back in rapture crystallized hotly. "Been driving me crazy...teasing little bitch...need to teach you a fucking lesson..."

Kuroo's free hand flew up to claw at the rigid plane of his abdomen, leaving behind bright ribbons of crimson as his pleasure barreled relentlessly onward. He imagined capturing those wicked lips between his teeth as punishment for every taunt and flagrant provocation you'd issued so seamlessly all evening. Driving himself to brutal, punishing depths over and over until you sobbed and keened and swore to stay good - at least for a little while.

Even picturing your pleas for mercy in that breathless, wrecked timbre you'd used earlier was enough to have Kuroo teetering wildly on the razor's edge. His balls drew up tighter as electric jolts of blinding bliss raced along his synapses with each twist of his calloused grip. Already he could taste the coppery tang of his own strained groans filling the bedroom, breath sawing harshly and release imminent—

A metallic jangle from the front entranceway had Kuroo's orgasm aborting before it could quite crest. His eyes flew open in the same instant he stilled, body strung taut as a bowstring as a cold tendril of realization slithered down his spine.

The midnight quiet echoed with hollow, careful pacing as if someone were sneaking tiptoeing movements. Then, the unmistakable vibration of the front door's locks being disengaged from the other side pulsed through the apartment in a searing staccato.

Kenma's parting warnings slammed back into Kuroo's lust-fogged brain with all the force of a sledgehammer: "Watch her closely. I wouldn't put it past her to slip out looking for trouble the second you blink..."

You. Sneaking out alone into the night to find some godforsaken revelry, no doubt. And despite his current state of painfully swollen and unsated dick, Kuroo felt the switch within him flip from hungered deviant back to protective guardian in a heartbeat.

With a growl of exertion half frenzied lust and half recalcitrant duty, he wrenched himself off the bed and stumbled to locate the first shred of clothing in reach as stealthy footsteps crept ever closer.

Kuroo's footsteps slowed to a prowling gait as he neared the living room, every muscle in his body tensing like a predator catching the scent of prey. There you stood at the front door, hand curved around the knob as if seconds from twisting it open and slipping outside.

But it was your appearance that stole Kuroo's breath and ignited molten need pulsing through his veins anew.

The scrap of crimson fabric you wore could barely even be considered a dress - more like a lingerie bodice sculpted to your lithe curves with indecent intimacy. It cupped the swell of your breasts, forcing them into a tantalizing plunge of cleavage before tapering off into a loose, flowing skirt portion that revealed teasing flashes of thigh and the lace garter adorning your upper leg each time you shifted.

Kuroo drank in the delectable tableau you presented with undisguised starvation, any lingering notion of rebuke or chastisement withering before the scorching promise of your provocatively clad form. You seemed to sense his hungry regard boring into you, shoulders going taut as you tilted your head slightly in acknowledgment.

"Going somewhere?" Kuroo finally grated out, throat parched and pulse jackrabbiting beneath his skin.

You didn't startle or try to fabricate some trite excuse. Instead, you pivoted to face him fully - the motion causing the wispy material to flutter around your body like scarlet flame, offering a split-second's teasing glimpse at the bare curve of your hip and abdomen beneath.

Kuroo barely suppressed a low, ravenous sound at the visceral temptation.

"Not going anywhere, Tetsu," you murmured in a voice like dark, velvety honey dripping straight into Kuroo's veins. "Just thought I'd slip into something more...comfortable while you were gone."

Your tongue darted out to trace a slow, meandering path over that full pout of your lower lip and Kuroo felt the final tethers of his restraint starting to splinter like overheated metal.

"Is that so?" He breathed out a fractured exhale, unconsciously prowling closer now despite his rapidly unraveling discipline. "And just who were you hoping might appreciate the view should they happen by?"

Rather than blanching or feigning innocence, your lips curved into a slow, eminently satisfied smirk that would have put the most depraved temptress to shame. With maddening deliberation, you allowed the bodice's sheer skirt portions to slip open even further - shamelessly revealing the absence of any panties and giving Kuroo an unobscured view of your bare pussy glistening with arousal beneath.

"Oh Tetsu, don't be coy," you crooned in a voice that liquified Kuroo's bones and made his shaft strain against its confines. "We both know precisely who this little show was meant for..." You punctuated the brazen insinuation by trailing one hand up the dip of your waist and over the slight swell of your hip before palming one of your tits shamelessly.

Something inside Kuroo seemed to splinter with a visceral, protracted ache at the image you painted. Some primal, proprietary need he could no longer wrestle down or contain reared up with a vengeance. In two strides, he crossed the remaining distance separating you, muscles tensed for violence.

Before you could so much as flinch, his fist lashed out, slamming into the door's frame beside your head hard enough to rattle its hinges. You went rigid, every shallow breath gusting between your parted lips in teasing wisps and ghosting over Kuroo's own straining chest.

"Don't you fucking dare," he snarled, bracing his other palm against the door to cage you in fully and blanketing your slighter frame in his looming heat. His voice dripped with seething menace, hazel eyes boring into yours with unflinching demand. "You want to play your wicked games, little girl? Then you can stay right here and sate them properly for once instead of traipsing around and dangling your charms for any passing degenerate to see..."

As his words hung in the electrically charged space between your bodies, Kuroo allowed the tip of his thumb to graze the over-sensitized swell of your lower lip with a maddening brush of friction, heart hammering an erratic staccato beneath his ribs.

"That's what you've been gagging for all night, isn't it? For me to finally break and give you exactly the kind of thorough, unrestrained claiming you've been begging for with those eyes?"

His hoarse murmur reverberated straight through you, hips canting subtly forward to grind the hard outline of his cock into your lower belly and banishing any distance between your bodies. You gasped softly at the delicious contact, pupils blowing wide with naked hunger.

Kuroo snaked his other hand with slow, almost torturous care around your back, fingertips skating over heated skin to palm your ass with unabashed greed. He squeezed firmly enough to lift you and force you up onto your tiptoes, your gazes locked in an endless battle of wills and unleashed, unstoppable need.

"Well?" His breath ghosted over your parted lips in counterpoint to his rumbling challenge and the rhythmic grind he established against your core. "If you've finally had enough of playing coy and pretending you don't want this as badly as I do, now's your last chance to walk away before I cave to the beast you keep trying to unleash..."

The molten whisper hung between you, thrumming with electric inevitability. Kuroo could feel the ragged flutter of your pulse against his palm cupping your feverish skin, the delicate shudder coursing through your frame as you swayed instinctively closer.

Your lips parted further as if to give voice to either undeniable surrender or a breathless plea for Kuroo to finally claim you with the ferocity you'd been stoking all night. He tensed in anticipation, every over-sensitized nerve ending screaming for your explicit permission to shed the last threads of restraint still holding him paralyzed on that razor-thin edge.

For a dizzying moment, he could almost taste the searing potential of finally unleashing himself, ravaging your pliant body as roughly and thoroughly as the beast prowling his veins demanded. Kuroo could picture hoisting you bodily into the searing cradle of his hips, pinning you helplessly against the door as he ground your molten centers together with punishing friction...

That's when Kenma's words sliced through the desire-soaked haze enveloping Kuroo's thoughts like a bucket of ice water:

"If I ever find out you so much as looked at my daughter the wrong way, I'll neuter you myself. And that's after my wife gets through kicking your ass first..."

The haunting vow rang with merciless clarity in Kuroo's mind - a bucket of sobering reality to counter the lush temptation of violating the most sacred of boundaries with the woman openly offering her wanton surrender mere breaths away. He froze utterly, gut clenching with a queasy lurch of shame. How could he even consider jeopardizing his friendship with Kenma over some fleeting, heated indiscretion?

You seemed to sense the shift in Kuroo's demeanor, that he'd regained some tenuous grasp on restraint despite the fever still thrumming between your bodies. A tiny, frustrated noise slipped free as your features contorted in a glare of disbelieving outrage.

"Don't you dare fucking pull away from me again, Tetsurou," you growled in a cadence dripping with such naked challenge and need that Kuroo nearly faltered anew. "I swear to god, if you think shutting me down now is going to make me stop craving your cock, you're delusional!"

Kuroo shuddered fully despite himself, arousal jackhammering nearly to the point of pain at the visceral promise of your guttural words. But he dug deep, clinging resolutely to the kernel of conscience beating like a metronome through his lust-fogged thoughts. He couldn't - wouldn't - be that level of betrayal to Kenma, no matter how sweetly the temptation painted itself.

With a fortifying inhale that felt like drawing in shards of glass, Kuroo untangled himself from your sinuous clutches, ignoring your outraged hiss of protest as he forcibly restrained the urge to lay claim so savagely.

"It's late," he managed in a tone gone desert-dry and rough enough to scour his raw throat. "And clearly my better judgment is waning enough for the night. We'll discuss this further after you've had a chance to...cool down."

You watched him with those mercurial eyes gone molten with frustrated fury, chest heaving with ragged pants that did nothing to detract from your brazen state of undress. For a prolonged heartbeat, Kuroo expected an explosive outburst or further attempts at seduction from you. But then, miraculously, some spark of compliance or defeated resignation seemed to bleed the raging inferno from your gaze.

With a toss of your head that made soft tresses spill artfully around your bare shoulders, you sneered. "Whatever. Don't come crying to me when the strain of denying yourself gets to be too much to handle alone at night anymore..."

Kuroo drew himself ramrod straight, pouring every ounce of willpower into keeping his gaze locked forward rather than allowing it to track the provocative bounce of your ass as you spun on your heel and stalked away down the hall. He waited until the muffled thud of your bedroom door slamming echoed like a death knell through the apartment before slumping back against the wall and dragging in a harsh, shuddering breath.

How the hell was he going to survive the remaining weeks of your tempestuous presence while keeping both your ravenous desire and his own treacherous impulses properly leashed?

The following morning found an undercurrent of smoldering resentment still permeating the air. You seemed determined to punish Kuroo for his rejection with frosty glares and curt one-word responses to any attempt at conversation or banter. Your simmering fury was nearly palpable enough to scorch any time he entered the vicinity - deliciously thrilling and unnerving in equal measure.

Finally, unable to endure the bristling awkwardness any longer, Kuroo cleared his throat over the remains of his breakfast. "Look, we both know moping around sulking isn't going to make this go away," he drawled, careful to keep any hint of condescension from creeping into his tone. "Maybe we need to get out and do something a little more fun together? Give you a chance to blow off some of that pent-up steam more...productively?"

Your gaze was skeptical as it flickered up to meet his, clearly wary of any potential olive branch representing ulterior motives or opportunities for seduction. But Kuroo held steady under your scrutiny, offering his most disarming grin.

"C'mon, we can make a little day trip out of it if you'd like? Grab some lunch, do a little shopping, maybe hit up a few sights if the weather cooperates..."

Resentment warred visibly with intrigued temptation across your features before the latter finally won out with a resigned huff. "Fine. Not like I have anything better to do until Dad gets back anyway." You paused, worrying your plump lower lip between your teeth in a way that made Kuroo have to swallow thickly. "Just promise to keep your hands to yourself and maybe I'll consider not holding last night's debacle entirely against you..."

A spark of challenge lit in Kuroo's chest even as he gave a genial shrug of acquiescence. "Whatever you say, princess. Although that begs the question of whether you'll be able to control your own wandering paws around little old me for once..."

You scoffed in a pantomime of offense even as the barest hints of a wry smirk curved your lips. "Oh, I think I've proven my restraint is far superior to your own when push comes to shove, Tetsurou."

The familiar note of salacious teasing had Kuroo's blood heating despite himself. But he held your gaze levelly, determined not to let you regain advantage - at least not so swiftly in the wake of his hard-fought self-denial.

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" He countered at last, allowing his eyes to rake over you with unguarded appreciation. "After all, there's only so long either of us can hold our breaths before one of us is bound to...come up gasping..."

The blatant undercurrent of wager and innuendo made your own stare spark in undisguised awareness, the air between you shivering in a deliciously renewed charge. Kuroo rose, movements lazy and confident as a predator scenting fresh prey.

"Better go get ready, sweetheart," he drawled as he moved towards the hallway, uncaring you tracked his every step like a starving woman admiring an exquisitely prepared feast. "It'll be my pleasure making things...interesting for us both today."

With one final, searing glance over his shoulder that promised indulgences still to come, Kuroo sauntered off to prepare himself for the delectable temptations and torments ahead. He only hoped the day's distractions would be enough to purchase him another reprieve from your mutually cataclysmic desires...at least for a few blissful hours more.

The tension that had lingered from the previous night's heated confrontation seemed to dissipate as you and Kuroo ventured out together into the crisp morning air. He tried to remain hyper-aware of the simmering undercurrents still crackling between you, but genuinely found himself getting swept up in simply enjoying your company as the day unfolded.

Over a laidback brunch at a cozy café, you fell back into your usual effortless rapport of teasing banter and roguish quips. Kuroo realized with a strange sort of fondness how easy it was to forget the obscenely tempting woman you'd matured into when you were grinning up at him with syrup smeared at the corner of your mouth, looking for all the world like the same mischievous brat he'd watched grow up.

Still, there were moments that would jar him back into visceral awareness of the barely-restrained desire pulsing between you both – like when you stretched lazily and your shirt rode up to expose a tantalizing strip of toned midriff, or when you casually licked a glob of whipped cream from your fingertip with slow, indolent focus. In those heated instances, Kuroo had to actively tear his stare away from drinking in the lurid tableaus you unconsciously presented.

After brunch, you wandered through a nearby outdoor market – pointing out quirky items that caught your fancy and sharing stories of your latest college misadventures as Kuroo listened with poorly restrained fondness. He couldn't resist the occasional playful nudge or tug on your hair, relishing in your indignant squeals.

Small, innocuous gestures that nevertheless filled Kuroo with a strange sense of nostalgia for cherished days long since passed when your relationship held no murkier underpinnings. Back when things had been simpler...easier.

But then your hand would brush his with purported innocence, or you'd lean in fractionally too close as you tugged the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention, and the nostalgia would instantly combust into that now-familiar scorching heat low in his core.

By the time evening rolled around, that same tantalizing friction was back in full force – only heightened by the casual intimacy you'd both lapsed into over the course of the day. Almost as if all the emotional groundwork of boundaries and uncertainty had already been blazed through, leaving only the heady longing and pent-up tension still smoldering beneath polite veneers. ik

Kuroo felt like he was walking on a tightrope, trying to balance enjoying your company without giving in to the overwhelming desire simmering between you two. As you strolled together down the lively shopping promenade, he was hyperaware of every accidental brush of your arm, every sly glance you shot his way. The sexual tension hung thick in the air, stoking the fire raging within him.

You reminded him of his promise to take you shopping, that coy smile playing on your lips. Kuroo wanted to refuse, to steer you both back to safer territory. But the gleam in your eyes made his resolve falter. He knew you wouldn't let this go, not when you could sense his weakening restraint.

"Sure, one store," he agreed reluctantly. "But we're keeping things PG, got it? No funny business."

Your grin only widened at his futile attempt to set boundaries. "I'll be on my very best behavior," you promised, though the suggestive lilt in your tone said otherwise.

True to form, the moment you stepped into the trendy clothing boutique, you barreled straight towards temptation. Kuroo watched, jaw clenched, as you selected increasingly revealing outfits to try on – tight dresses that clung to your curves, low-cut tops that exposed a tantalizing swell of cleavage. Each time you emerged from the dressing room in a new ensemble, his eyes were helplessly drawn to your body like a magnet, drinking in every inch of skin on display.

You preened under his heated stare, arching your back or bending over just a bit more than necessary as you posed and asked his opinion. Kuroo tried to keep his responses clipped and neutral, but his voice emerged as a strained rasp each time.

Finally, you slipped behind the door again, and Kuroo forced himself to turn away before you reemerged in something even more sinful. He paced the small waiting area, hands fisted at his sides as he wrestled with the escalating ache between his legs. Get it together, Tetsurou, he scolded himself. You can't let her temptations break you.

The soft creak of the changing room door made his head snap up, breath catching at the sight of you. This time, the delicate black dress you wore could barely be called clothing – the flimsy material was practically see-through, clinging to your body like a second skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. As you sauntered closer, each swaying step made the dress ride up tantalizing higher on your thighs.

"Well?" You locked eyes with him, open challenge burning in your gaze. "What do you think about this one, Tetsu? Think it would look better..." You trailed off, slowly dragging your hands up your sides to emphasize your breasts straining against the sheer fabric. "On the bedroom floor?"

Kuroo's throat went dry as you closed the distance between you, plush lips parting invitingly as you pressed yourself flush against his body. He could feel the pebbled peaks of your nipples grazing his chest, smell the intoxicating floral scent of your skin and hair. The blood was pounding so fiercely in his ears, he barely registered your next words.

"Come on, old man," you purred, tilting your hips in a slow grind against his growing hardness. "You can finally give in, just this once. No one has to know how badly you want me..."

With a guttural groan torn from his very core, Kuroo captured your lips in a searing, desperate kiss. All of his flimsy resistance and halfhearted objections crumbled entirely as he pulled you harder against him, one hand burying itself in your hair while the other shamelessly groped your ass.

You eagerly reciprocated his hunger, mouth opening to allow his probing tongue to delve deeper as your nails raked over his shoulders. The kiss was all heat and wet friction and the slick tangling of tongues, devolving rapidly into messy desperation.

When you finally broke apart, lips swollen and breath sawing harshly, Kuroo's gaze was molten with naked need. "Fuck it," he rasped out, guiding you backwards toward the dressing room. "You want this so bad, princess? You got it..."

With a low growl, he yanked the flimsy dress clear over your head, leaving you beautifully bare before his ravenous stare. As he crowded you against the wall, hands greedily roaming your body, all thoughts of resistance fled entirely. You'd baited him expertly, and now there was nothing left but surrender to the raging inferno of lust you'd both fanned for far too long.

Kuroo pinned you against the dressing room wall, the flimsy door shuddering on its hinges as he ground his clothed cock against your naked heat. Your head lolled back, mouth falling open in a silent moan as his lips and teeth blazed a scorching path down the column of your throat.

One of his powerful thighs shoved between your legs, forcing them obscenely apart to make room for the delicious friction he established. You clung to his broad shoulders, nails raking over taut muscle and bunched fabric as you rocked wantonly into the exquisite pressure.

"Yes...oh fuck, Tetsu, please..." The entreaty slipped free in a shredded whimper as molten licks of rapture sparked outwards from your rapidly liquifying core with each punishing grind of Kuroo's hips.

He swallowed your cries with another deep, bruising kiss - all teeth and slick tangling of tongues as he laid utterly merciless claim. One large palm clamped over the generous curve of your breast, kneading and tweaking the peaked nipple with expert command until you arched into his brand with a ragged plea.

Just as the two of you threatened to shred through the last vestige of control, a shrill ringing cut through the haze of panting breaths and slick glides of skin. You startled against Kuroo's unrelenting attention, scrambling to locate the source of the interruption.

"Fuck, ignore it baby," Kuroo growled against the swollen swell of your lips as he tried to recapture your mouth. But you placed a palm to his heaving chest, stilling his insistent motions just long enough to locate your buzzing phone abandoned beside the discard pile of outfits you'd tried on.

The name "DADDY" glared up from the screen, undeniable and utterly disruptive in its timing. You froze, equal parts mortification and a sudden rush of clarity dousing the raging inferno like a bucket of ice water.

Kuroo seemed to experience a similar sobering, judging by the way he abruptly wrenched himself from your tangled clutches with a guttural curse. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, harsh breaths sawing raggedly through the quiet changing alcove.

"Answer it," he bit out in a grating tone when you continued staring numbly at the vibrating device. "It's probably Kenma checking in finally..."

Obediently, you connected the call, fingers trembling as you lifted the phone to your ear while Kuroo dragged himself back from the precipice of utterly losing control.

"H-hey Daddy..." you stammered out, unable to fully erase the undercurrent of breathy desire still permeating your voice. "Did you make it to the hotel okay?"

You kept your eyes trained resolutely on the wall opposite as Kuroo raked his tortured stare over your flushed, gloriously debauched state. His jaw ticked visibly with the strain of warring compulsions before he seemed to reach some grim inner resolve.

Without ceremony, he snatched up the discarded pile of clothing and strode for the exit, steps tight and precise as he headed for the register. You watched his exit helplessly with one hand clapped over the mic, entirely uncertain how to process the harrowing swing between total debauchery and cold sobriety.

Finally, you shook yourself from your daze. "Yeah, I'm just...just out getting a few things with...with Tetsu," you mumbled hoarsely into the receiver, unable to mask the warring torrent of disappointment and relief thrashing beneath your skin. "No, no everything is totally fine and...and normal here..."

You trailed off staring blankly at the dressing room's mirrored wall – the debauchery reflected back at you a bitter mockery of your platitudes. Hickeys darkened over the swell of your breasts, hair a riot of tangles from Kuroo's merciless grip, the proof of your arousal stark and glistening between your thighs and smeared incriminatingly over your inner thighs.

Far from fine or normal.

With a trembling sigh and a desperate prayer Kuroo would maintain his reforged nobility for just a while longer, you slunk into the bathroom to quickly restore some semblance of dignity and untangled poise before braving whatever storm awaited on the other side.

The drive back to Kuroo's apartment was cloaked in a heavy silence, the air thick with unresolved tension. You kept stealing sidelong glances at him, eyes tracing the taut set of his jaw and the way the tendons in his neck corded with strain. His knuckles were practically white from gripping the steering wheel, biceps flexing beneath the material of his shirt. You found your gaze lingering on those sculpted forearms, remembering the scorching imprints his large palms had branded into your bare skin not long ago.

A heated flush crept up your chest as you recalled the urgency of his touch, the blazing intensity in his smoldering stare as he'd pinned you against that dressing room wall. Just thinking about how utterly you had unraveled him, how close you'd both teetered to the edge of no return, made a spiral of arousal rekindle low in your belly.

Finally, you couldn't take the charged quiet any longer. As if giving voice to the roiling torrent might somehow lance the turbulent undercurrents between you. "Are we going to talk about what happened back there?" you ventured, keeping your tone carefully neutral despite the way your pulse thrummed with reawakened yearning.

Kuroo's Adam's apple bobbed convulsively as he swallowed hard, sharpened jawline tensing further. "What's there to talk about?" His gravelly response held an undercurrent of forced nonchalance that did nothing to mask the storm clearly raging behind his eyes. "Just a lapse in judgment that won't be happening again."

The curt dismissal ignited a fresh flare of indignant frustration deep in your core. As if he could so easily disregard the raging inferno he'd stoked and indulge in willful blindness. You bristled, the flames of desire now sparking into defiance as you bristled. "So that's it? You're just going to pretend like you didn't want me just as badly?"

Shifting in your seat, you arched your back slightly to thrust your breasts forward and let your hand trail up the inseam of your skirt in a slow, sinuous caress. You parted your thighs a few tantalizing inches, holding Kuroo's burning stare in silent challenge. The rapid dilation of his pupils and the way his throat worked around a convulsive swallow did not escape your notice.

"I felt how hard you were, Tetsu," you murmured in a voice gone low and syrupy with provocation. You bit your lower lip slowly, letting it plump up and glisten with the brief sweep of your tongue. "How turned on you were, having me pressed up against you. Don't tell me you’re just gonna ignore that."

A muscle ticked in his chiseled jaw, the corded sinews of his neck snapping taut. But Kuroo kept his glass-cutting stare locked resolutely on the empty road ahead, seemingly laboring to maintain his rapidly crumbling veneer of forced restraint. His chest rose and fell in harsh drafts, utterly at odds with his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

With a sharp swerve that jostled you both, Kuroo abruptly pulled over on a quiet side street. For a split second, you expected – hoped – that he would finally surrender. That the smoldering heat in his hooded stare would arc forward and consume you both in the searing release of passion too long stoked and denied. You even leaned subtly into his space, lips parting in breathless expectation.

But instead of seizing you in the punishing kiss you craved, Kuroo squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture of clear self-restraint. The sharp ridges and hollows of his profile were limned in stark relief by the ambient glow of the streetlamp, casting his features in an almost pained mask of stoicism.

"You don't understand, [Y/N]," he grated out in that deliciously rough timbre that made your pussy flutter traitorously. "It's not just about age or consent. You're Kenma's daughter, for fuck's sake."

The reminder lanced through the gauzy cocoon of longing clouding your thoughts – a sudden dousing that left you recoiling slightly. But even the fleeting pang of guilt was not enough to extinguish the ember of desire still burning molten and insistent in your core. You worried your plump lower lip with your teeth again, noting the way Kuroo's gaze tracked the unconscious gesture with naked yearning.

"So what? The two of you aren’t related by blood."

Even to your own ears, the attempted rationalization rang thin and hollow – a transparent grasp at justification for indulging in this increasingly inescapable compulsion arcing between your charged forms.

Kuroo's jaw clenched hard enough to throw his chiseled features into harsh relief, full lips peeling back from gritted teeth in a rictus of frustration. "That doesn't matter!" he exploded, the blaze finally detonating behind those piercing emerald eyes. "Kenma is my oldest friend, my brother in every way that counts. And betraying his trust like this by lusting after his little girl?"

His words emerged guttural and fraught, the muscle jumping sporadically along his tensed jawline as his chest heaved with the force of containing the twin maelstroms of lust and self-loathing clearly at war within his formidable frame.

"It's unforgivable..." he finished in a voice gone hoarse with effort that seemed to resonate through you in a full-body tremor of apprehension and answering hunger.

The car idled around you, the low thrum of its engine seeming to give voice to the pulse of hunger you refused to quiet so easily. You absorbed Kuroo's weighted condemnation and rationality through the molasses-thick silence, tasting the bitter truths on your tongue...and dismissing them with a willful defiance that roiled and snapped through your veins like liquid fire.

"What if," you hedged at last, carefully modulating your tone to a lower, syrupy warmth. "What if he didn't have to know? Just this once to get it out of our systems."

The insinuation hung wreathed in ephemeral promise – one you punctuated by allowing your hand to slowly creep higher along Kuroo's taut thigh until your questing fingertips brushed against the outline of his cock swiftly taking shape beneath the coarse denim. You relished the punched-out groan that gusted free of him despite his visible efforts to contain it, his powerful thighs parting incrementally in a reflexive, unbidden welcome to your temptation.

"[Y/N], baby...don't..." Kuroo's graveled entreaty was unmistakable even as his willpower hemorrhaged. You refused to grant him quarter or pause now, shuffling gracelessly across the console until your lips ghosted searing friction against the sandpaper rasp of his own in a tantalizing brush of silk over steel.

"Don't act like you don't crave this just as much as I do," you breathed against his parted mouth, your damp exhalation seeming to scorch its heated path along every molecule. "I can feel how much you want me..."

A visible tremor wracked Kuroo's powerful frame then, his control stretched gossamer-thin and shredding. With a ragged curse torn from somewhere deep in his chest, he crushed his mouth down over yours in a searing, desperate kiss that threatened to steal the very air from your lungs. His large palms slid over every lush curve and swell in a heated brand of possession – bunching the fabric of your skirt up over your hips without preamble as he hauled you bodily into the cradle of his lap.

The action pinned you flush to the hard-on you'd been so purposefully teasing, eliciting a shamelessly wanton moan that Kuroo swallowed greedily. A dizzying spiral of tongues and teeth and lush, bruising friction commenced between you – frantic and ferocious and lit by the feverish promise of total surrender. Kuroo's every ragged exhalation scorched over your flushed skin with the guttural relish of starvation, his powerful body undulating beneath you in open invitation.

It was finally happening – the dam breaking to unleash the turbulent waters you'd strained against for far too long...

Then, with an animalistic growl torn from the depths of his core, Kuroo abruptly tore his mouth from yours. You both panted harshly in the aftermath, chests heaving and bodies glistening with the visceral efforts of that brief conflagration. Kuroo's eyes bored into you from beneath hooded lids, burning with an intensity that nearly made you moan at the visceral, proprietary promise you found there.

"We can't..." he rasped out, even as his hands roved hungrily over every exquisite swell and hollow of your wanton curves. He kneaded the lush flesh of your ass shamelessly, grinding your molten pussy against his aching cock. "Fuck, you have no idea how badly I want to just fuck you right here..."

You arched against him with a keening sound of entreaty, nipping sharply at the corded tendon straining along the column of his throat with your kiss-swollen lips. "Then why are you fighting it? I'm right here, Tetsu...all yours for the taking if you just give in..."

A shudder wracked Kuroo's broad shoulders and he momentarily buried his face in the fragrant hollow beneath your ear, seeming to inhale the humid fusion of your desire and dizzying feminine musk. You felt the rasp of his tongue caressing the feverish jump of your pulse point before he leaned back, jaw visibly ticking with the strain of containing the beast howling for release within.

"Kenma..." he ground out through gritted teeth, chest sawing with exertion as he visibly warred to regain the tattered shreds of his composure. "I can't do that to Kenma...fuck, I can't betray him like this no matter how tempting you make it!"

You issued a wordless growl of sheer frustration and smashed your mouth back against Kuroo's in a punishing kiss of pure, wanton possession. Your hips surged erratically against his, grinding and circling in search of any exquisite friction to soothe the mounting ache. His hands – those peerless instruments of dominance and barely-restrained power – squeezed your hips with bruising force, meeting your agonized roll for ravenous roll as you both teetered ever nearer to the abyss.

"Don't think about him or anyone else," you rasped out between the wickedly slick tangling of tongues and fevered sips of lush, parted flesh. "Just think about me and what you're going to do to me once we get back..."

A full-body shudder wracked Kuroo's powerful, delineated musculature then, making you momentarily dizzy as your senses swirled with the intoxicating scents of your feverish exertions and his spiced, earthy virility. For a suspended, panting heartbeat, you thought he might actually give in right there and now – shed his shredded composure and take you right atop the creaking console in an animalistic frenzy of unleashed hungers.

But then Kuroo's expression slid into grim determination, emerald eyes glinting with a resolve too steely to ignore. "Get off me, princess," he grated out in a voice thick and molten from your arduous joining. With gentle yet unmistakable force, he untangled your limbs from around him, depositing you into the passenger seat with surprisingly finessed care.

You opened your mouth to protest or cajole further, but Kuroo fixed you with a look that brooked no additional discussion. Shaken by the authority blazing from his banked stare, you simply slumped back in sullen, heated frustration as he started the car and pulled back onto the empty road with sharp, jerky motions.

The drive passed in a thick, tension-laden silence once more – your own frustration and simmering yearning mounting with every block traversed and minute ticking past. From the passenger seat, your gaze traced over Kuroo's stern profile and lingered on the prominent set of his kiss-swollen lips before flickering towards the backseat...

Where easily a dozen glossy shopping bags lay scattered and overflowing with the entire selection of risque garments you'd sampled earlier during your flagrant attempts at seduction. The sheer volume of them, crammed haphazardly across the plush leather, suggested Kuroo had spared no expense in purchasing every single indecent offering you'd modeled so shamelessly for him across the evening.

You absorbed this visceral evidence of just how deeply your provocations had affected him – no matter how firmly he tried distancing himself from the primal, lust-choked demands you'd elicited. The sight of all those dresses and scandalously revealing tops, the ghost of their heated exchange permeated the fine material in a way you doubted would ever be expunged now.

Silently, you turned your gaze back out the window, chest constricting with equal parts yearning and a newfound flush of humbled apprehension. If even an evening as blatantly purposed to incite Kuroo's basest longings had pushed you both to such explosive limits, how on earth would either of you survive the smoldering compulsions newly awakened between you going forward?

Man and woman – both undeniably enraptured, yet torn between morality and forbidden lust...what choice did either of you truly have but to succumb entirely to the raging inferno now threatening to consume you both utterly?

The remainder of the evening passed in a blur of simmering tension and loaded silence. As soon as you entered Kuroo's apartment, you stormed down the hall without a backwards glance – the sharp staccato of your footsteps and the punctuating slam of the guest bedroom door ricocheting through the quiet like auditory shockwaves.

Kuroo stood frozen in the living area, shoulders rising and falling with deep, calming breaths as he struggled to regain equilibrium. Every inch of his body still thrummed with unspent arousal and the ghost of your lush, wanton curves pressed so urgently against his own aching hardness. The dusky floral scent of your desire seemed to permeate the very air, making his head swim dizzily.

He sank onto the sofa, scrubbing his palms over his face as warring tides of lust and self-loathing churned within. How close had he teetered to that razor's edge of indulging his most depraved impulses? Minutes from dragging your willing body back against his and consummating the forbidden, treacherous cravings coiled like a serpent around his resolve?

The thought sickened him as much as it made his cock throb insistently. With a muffled groan, Kuroo shoved himself upright to stumble towards the safe refuge of his room. Perhaps distance and unconsciousness would dull the overwhelming tempest now lashing against his shores.

He intended to seek you out later, when coherent sentences and rational discussions became possible again. An effort to assuage your understandable ire and work towards diffusing this entire disaster before it fractured something irreparable between you.

But for now, Kuroo needed to retreat and regroup – escape the torturous haunting of your essence clinging to every space if he had any hope of eventually confronting the minefield you had both set dancing across.

Sleep, however, proved equally elusive in light of his spiraling thoughts. Each time Kuroo closed his eyes, visceral flashes assaulted him – the slick swell of your parted lips, the blissed out arch of your spine as you ground down against his aching cock, the primal mewls of desire spilling wantonly past the swollen pout needing nothing more than his tongue to swallow them once more.

At some point in the restless fever dream, he found himself wandering down the dimly lit hallway, a silent wraith pulled towards the forbidden as surely as helpless debris caught in a riptide. He paused outside the guest suite, gaze riveted to the sliver of spilled illumination glowing from beneath. He could picture you stretched out on those rumpled sheets so achingly vivid it made his fingers ache with the urge to trail worshipful paths over every exposed expanse...

A ragged exhalation gusted from Kuroo's parched lips. He sagged back against the opposite wall, fighting off the insidious temptation to breach that final barrier. Clearly your alluring presence had completely unraveled his normally steadfast self-control and rationale. For both your sakes, he would have to keep a healthy gulf between you...at least for now.

With monumental effort, Kuroo retreated back to his room and the refuge of cool, clean sheets blessedly void of the temptress' haunting essence. He lasted a grand total of an hour sprawled out in solitary torment before surrendering what little composure remained and indulging himself in a rough, curse-laden fantasy that would have made even your wanton desires seem quaint by comparison.

By the time the first pale ribbons of dawn streaked across the horizon, a raw-throated and shuddering Kuroo finally succumbed to fitful slumber with the sticky residue of his cum cooling in streaks across his tensed abdomen. And through the shredding vestiges of restless unconsciousness, he swore he could taste the phantom heat of your tongue laving scorching paths along the insides of his thighs in leisurely benediction...

Sunlight filtering through the bedroom's gauzy curtains roused Kuroo from his lurid fever-dreams at last. With monumental effort, he tugged leaden eyelids open to blearily assess his surroundings – half expecting to find you a tousled, inviting vision spread out beside him after the feverish imaginings plaguing his slumber.

But the rumpled sheets beside him remained untouched, unsullied of any presence save his own. A sudden, petulant hollowness seemed to yawn through Kuroo's core at the realization, far more visceral than he cared to analyze.

Huffing out a frustrated exhalation, he finally levered himself upright and scrubbed his hands through the sweaty disarray of his bedhead. The motions caused his shoulders to crack in relief, reminding him of just how restlessly he must have tossed and turned throughout the night. Each minute of failed slumber scored into his senses by the molten brands of fantasies too lurid for conscious recollection.

With jerky, still sleep-clumsy movements, Kuroo tugged on a pair of sweatpants before making his way towards the kitchen and the steadying ritual of brewing a strong pot of coffee. He needed fuel and sustenance if he harbored any hope of somehow diffusing the powder keg now smoldering so perilously on his doorstep.

Kuroo fully intended to seek you out, clear the air, and work towards patching the cracks already webbing between you with remorseless speed. Before more irrevocable sins and unspeakable hungers could leach through and fracture everything apart.

But the moment Kuroo shuffled into the front living area and spotted your silhouette perched on the sofa, all intentions scattered like ashes in a downdraught. You sat utterly motionless, hands folded demurely between your knees and shoulders hunched beneath a thick sweater that seemed to swallow your slender frame.

For several weighted heartbeats, Kuroo simply stared – part of him frantically scrambling to piece together what apologies or arguments or tempering explanations might be fitting for the storm no doubt still churning your stare.

But when you lifted your chin and met his gaze full-on, he knew in an instant that the tumultuous anger and hurt smoldering behind your depths had dimmed to low embers overnight. All of the thorns and hissing defensiveness he'd steeled himself for seemed...muted, dampened to a bemused sort of weariness.

"Morning," you murmured, offering an uncertain smile that halted Kuroo in his tracks. "There's coffee made already if you want some."

And just like that, it was as if some unspoken truce had been negotiated over the empty hours of sleeplessness plaguing you both. No blazing recriminations or bitter wrath, simply a thin veneer of civility draped between your respective wounds like gauze still awaiting a more permanent salve.

Part of Kuroo wanted to tear through the falsely calming atmosphere with demands and impassioned pleas to finally hash out the forbidden hungers simmering between you openly and without restraint. A larger, more guarded piece of him reveled in the reprieve – no matter how brittle its origins or longevity.

For now, there would be no knock-down-drag-out confrontations about culpabilities or unspeakable transgressions. Just the steady, comforting motions of two friends clinging to the shreds of propriety still distinguishable through the smoky haze of sin.

"Thanks," Kuroo rasped out at last, gesturing vaguely towards the hallway. "I should hit the shower, but I'll grab a mug after."

You merely nodded without lifting your chin, as if any sudden movements or excess attentions might shatter the delicately-reforged peace between you. Kuroo allowed the hazy beat of silence to stretch and congeal around him for a few more endless seconds before retreating with a self-conscious clearing of his throat.

Hot water scouring his fatigued muscles did nothing to cleanse the heavier burdens now bearing down upon him. Each droplet scissoring down his well-muscled frame seemed to whisper your name in a haunting sussurus laced with equal parts damnation and devotion. Over and over until his skull echoed with the weight of it all, the agonizing decisions and tempests of lust still holding court behind his eyes as he fought for purchase on elusive clarity.

By the time Kuroo finally emerged, towel slung low around his hips and bare feet damp against the living room floor, he found you exactly where you'd been. Your eyes flickered over the exposed expanse of defined musculature, trailing down the dewy hollow of his throat to the thick, coarse hair trailing down his navel before hastening away.

A flush stained your cheeks despite your otherwise placid expression and Kuroo felt the bottom drop out of his stomach in sympathy. It would seem neither of you was quite immune to the molten brands of temptation searing between your shared spaces after all.

Some desperate instinct prodded him to break the ice, to raise a jest or levity to at least mask the simmering current tugging them both down into murky depths once more...until he saw the two mugs already awaiting on the coffee table.

And beside them the cheerfully plain cardboard box containing the six-pack of fancy cookies he favored but rarely indulged. His stomach clenched, suddenly painfully unsure whether the gesture stemmed from simple thoughtfulness and consideration...or carried infinitely murkier underpinnings of appeasement or delayed capitulation.

"[Y/N]..." Kuroo murmured, the name dripping from his tongue like fragrant benediction and damnation all at once. "What...?"

But your only response was to lift one shoulder in a tiny shrug before inclining your head towards the prepared dishes silently. The weight behind your compliant silence made Kuroo's gut churn for reasons he could barely fathom.

He crossed the space more out of instinctive compulsion than true desire, sinking onto the couch cushions careful inches away from where you huddled beneath the oversized sweater. For one teetering heartbeat, he was frozen - every fiber of his being screaming at him to reach out and map the enigmatic hollows and slopes of your features with desperate reverence. To try and see past whatever crossroads you had navigated in the cold depths of morning while he wallowed in his own disgraced indecision.

But in the end, he simply reached for the prepared mug of steaming brew, cradling the heat and steadying ceramic between his palms as a penitent before an altar he longed to glimpse...yet dared not risk profaning further with any more selfish, craven demands.

The silence stretched between them, thick and weighted as Kuroo sipped his coffee. He stole furtive glances at you over the rim of the mug, brow furrowed slightly as he tried to decipher the strange shift in your demeanor. Gone was the defiant fire that had blazed so brightly the previous day, the blatant challenge and provocation that had nearly unraveled him completely.

Instead, you seemed...subdued, almost chastened. Your eyes remained downcast, fingers worrying at a loose thread on the sweater you were huddled in. Kuroo recognized it as one of his own - the sight of you engulfed in the worn fabric sparked an unexpected flicker of tenderness amidst the swirling uncertainty.

Just as he opened his mouth, prepared to finally broach the smoldering tension crackling between them, you spoke up in a soft murmur.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." Your gaze flickered up to meet his, equal parts contrition and a guarded wariness he couldn't quite decipher. "I acted like a brat, and I crossed so many lines I shouldn't have."

Kuroo's brows hiked up, the apology catching him completely off guard. A thousand potential responses flickered through his mind, but he remained silent, letting you continue uninterrupted.

"You were right to shut me down," you pressed on, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. "What I was trying to push you into...it would have been a huge mistake. A betrayal of my dad's trust in the worst way."

He watched, utterly transfixed, as you visibly gathered your composure with a deep, steadying breath. When you met his gaze again, there was a newfound determination glinting in your eyes that made his chest constrict painfully.

"I need to be better than that," you stated, more to yourself than him. "I can't keep letting my...impulses and selfishness rule me, not when it risks hurting the people I care about most." A wry, self-deprecating smile curved your lips. "Especially over something as stupid as a cheap thrill that would have ruined everything in the end."

Kuroo's mouth had gone dry, his coffee suddenly tasting ashen on his tongue. This measured, earnest side of you was so at odds with the wanton temptress who had pushed him to the boundaries of control mere hours ago. He couldn't decide if he was relieved at your apparent change of heart, or if a deeper part of him mourned the loss of that smoldering, unchecked passion.

"From now on, I'm going to be focusing on my studies," you continued, voice strengthening with conviction. "No more distractions, no more chasing selfish whims that could jeopardize my future and hurt the people I love."

Despite himself, Kuroo couldn't contain the incredulous huff of laughter that slipped past his lips. You cut him a mildly reproachful look, but he simply shook his head and lifted one shoulder in an unapologetic shrug.

"Sorry, I just..." He searched for the right words, sarcasm warring with sincere consideration. "After everything that happened yesterday, you'll forgive me for being a little skeptical about your sudden resolve to become a model student again."

To his surprise, you didn't bristle or retort defensively. Instead, you simply held his gaze steadily, mouth set in a solemn line.

"I mean it, Tetsurou," you stated, each word laced with sober emphasis. "Things went way too far yesterday, and we both know it. I refuse to let my lack of self-control ruin things any further between us or with my dad."

He searched your expression, looking for any hints of deception or lingering temptation simmering beneath the surface. But all he found was earnest determination and...an undercurrent of what could only be described as regret. Regret for the lines you had crossed, for the dangerous territory you had led him towards so brazenly.

Kuroo felt something within him loosen at your sincerity, the constant knot of wariness and residual arousal slowly unspooling. Perhaps you had both needed this reckoning, this moment of clarity amidst the maelstrom of lust and indecision.

With a slow nod, he set his half-finished coffee aside and leaned back against the sofa cushions. "Alright, if that's really what you want..." He let the implication hang in the air - giving you one final chance to contradict or deflect.

But you simply met his gaze evenly and offered a small, resolute smile. "It is. I promise."

He found himself returning the smile, some of the heaviness that had weighed on him since yesterday finally dissipating. "Then I'm with you. Whatever you need to get through this..." He waved a hand vaguely. "...whatever this chapter is, I've got your back."

A shimmer of gratitude flickered across your features, and you nodded silently. The air between you seemed to clear, the tension bleeding away to be replaced by a newfound sense of solidarity and understanding.

As you rose to retreat back to your room, likely to tackle some studying, Kuroo couldn't help but marvel at the shift. Just yesterday, the mere sight of you had set his blood boiling and restraint hanging by a gossamer thread. Now, you were calm waters, your determination sending ripples of pride through him rather than turbulent desire.

Part of him wanted to bask in this newfound sense of solidarity, to trust in the sincerity he had glimpsed burning in your eyes. You seemed so resolute, so committed to reining in the chaotic impulses that had nearly led you both down an irreversibly dark path. For a fleeting moment, Kuroo allowed himself to truly hope that the worst had passed - that you had both exorcised the ravenous temptations and granted each other the space needed to heal.

But another, more cynical part of him couldn't shake a lingering wariness - a nagging suspicion that this abrupt shift in comportment was simply a new gambit in whatever twisted game of seduction still simmered beneath the surface. He knew you too well, had witnessed firsthand just how adept you were at manipulation and preying on his weaknesses when the mood struck.

Was this whole 'good girl' act merely a calculated move to lull him back into a false sense of security? To bait him into dropping his guard entirely before the next onslaught of provocation? Kuroo clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to rake his palm through his disheveled bedhead. He couldn't afford blind trust anymore, not until his senses managed to fully disentangle themselves from the drugging aura of your temptation.

The rest of the day passed in that same strange, uneasy truce. You remained tucked away in the guest room, a silent sentinel devoted to your apparent studies. Kuroo tried to busy himself with mundane chores and mindless distractions, desperate to avoid falling back into the same spiral of fevered ruminations that had plagued him the previous evening.

When at last the knock at his door dragged him back to the present, the dimly lit hallway revealed your silhouette hovering uncertainly just past the threshold to his bedroom suite. A woven blanket was wrapped securely around your lithe form, soft locks tousled by evident restlessness.

"Hey," you greeted in a low, rough murmur that somehow still managed to caress over his nerves with unbearable gentleness. "I didn't mean to disturb you, I just..."

You trailed off, gaze flickering away as one slender hand worried at the blanket's edge. Kuroo inhaled a steadying breath, forcing himself to remain impassive rather than closing the distance to offer...well, whatever fragile intimacy his body instinctively longed to provide.

"Everything okay?" He prompted when you remained locked in uncertain silence.

Finally, you nodded and met his probing stare fully once more. "Yeah, it's just...I don't know, never mind. Sorry, I shouldn't have disturbed your evening."

As you turned to retreat back down the hallway, something deep inside Kuroo clenched at the thought of you withdrawing further into solitude and shadow. Before his rational mind could override the impulse, he found himself calling out to your departing figure.

"Wait!" It emerged more gruffly than intended, making you freeze in your tracks and glance back over one shoulder. Kuroo groped for an appropriate excuse, something benign enough not to raise defenses all while affording your company a while longer.

"Ah, I was actually planning to head into the office for a bit later," he fibbed. "Get a head start on some paperwork since I'll be out for the next couple weeks." Kenma's extended business trip suddenly provided convenient cover for maintaining a credible pretense.

"If you wanted," he pressed on, feigning nonchalance. "You could come along? Maybe grab a bite or something afterwards? No pressure or anything, just a chance to get out of the apartment for a bit."

Silence stretched between you as you seemed to mull over his proposal. Kuroo waited with studied patience, refusing to allow his desperation to bleed through the carefully measured tone of his offer. If you sensed how imperative it suddenly felt to draw you back out of your isolated solitude, there was no telling what fresh deceptions or exploitations might be unleashed...

"That's very kind of you," you said at last, rewarding Kuroo's lungs with oxygen once more. "But I think I'll pass tonight. I'm actually making really good headway on this literature review for my Criminal Justice class."

The unexpected excuse shouldn't have landed with such a hollow pang in Kuroo's core. He forced a tight smile and a nod as if your wholesome refusal was precisely what he had expected all along.

"Well hey, can't argue with putting education first. That's my girl." The endearment slipped past his lips before he could rein it back, making something almost pained flicker across your features.

"Thanks for understanding," you murmured, hugging the blanket tighter around yourself as you began retreating once more. "Really, Tetsu, this is exactly what I need right now, so just...don't worry about me for a little while, okay?"

The words sliced through Kuroo like a physical blow, leaving him unmoored and reeling in their wake. Before rational thought could intervene, his body propelled itself forward of its own volition - powerful strides devouring the distance until you were engulfed in the circle of his arms.

You went rigid at the sudden embrace, shoulder blades tensing beneath Kuroo's palms as he crushed you against the solid plane of his chest. For a breathless heartbeat, you remained frozen - two tautly strung bowstrings lashed together and thrumming with twinned uncertainty.

Then you seemed to melt fractionally, slender form softening into the cradle of Kuroo's insistent hold as you allowed your cheek to pillowed against the reassuring thrum of his heartbeat.

Kuroo drank in every visceral detail greedily - the fragrant whisper of your shampoo, the pliant silk of your hair brushing his jawline, the delicate points of your body pressing into his with undeniable substance and fever.

Without conscious thought, he angled his face downward, allowing the rough rasp of his stubble to score delicate friction against the downy slope of your temple. He inhaled deeply, pulling your combined scents into his lungs like a man starving for sustenance.

Your breaths hitched in response, mingling with his own in tremulous susurrances that sounded dangerously akin to shared whimpers of need. Before Kuroo's tenuous grasp on control could splinter entirely, he tilted your face up towards his with two blunt fingertips beneath your chin.

Your features were suffused with ethereal shadows, making your eyes glimmer with haunted liquid fire. Kuroo stared into those molten depths, every muscle in his body locked taut as he waged a silent war with the compulsions howling through his bloodstream.

To claim your lips in the searing, profane manner they had taunted and tempted with such maddening ardor? Or to retreat from the brink of that scorching precipice once more before he immolated the last tattered remnants of restraint still just barely tethering his hungers in place?

Kuroo could feel the answer being etched into the twin brands of your shared exhales, the tantalizing give of your body cradled against his hardening form. Every atom and synapse screamed for capitulation to the searing potential hanging like a livewire between your mouths.

With what felt like monumental effort, he dragged his lips across your searing cheekbone instead - angling his mouth to brand a searing path towards your brow. You shuddered fully beneath his roving caress, fingers clenching in the thick material of Kuroo's sweatshirt as if to tether yourself in place.

Finally, Kuroo pressed his lips against the warm silk of your forehead in what felt like a ghosting benediction – an aching promise to soothe and protect the most fragile innocence blooming within the banked furnace of your temptations. He lingered in that tenuous stasis, coaxing the stinging behind his eyes to relent long enough to steady his voice.

"Sleep well, little one," he rasped out at last in a tone gone rough with too many competing compulsions. "I'll be back before you know it, so try not to study too hard for once while I'm gone."

Reluctantly, he allowed his arms to fall away from you – slowly enough to avoid any abrupt separation that might shatter the fragile symbiosis you'd achieved. Then he turned to retreat, unable to risk glimpsing whatever swirling riptides of emotion still churned behind your mercurial depths.

Kuroo made it as far as the corridor leading towards the stairwell before his breaths began sawing erratically again, lungs burning with the effort of containing the turbulent hungers still prowling his inner battlefields.

The rest of the short trip towards the office building passed in a blur. In an effort to quiet his riotous thoughts, Kuroo found himself spontaneously re-routing his steps towards one of the neighborhood's more upscale bakeries instead. Perhaps a sugary indulgence and the simple, unassuming ambiance of the place could buoy his spirits and purchase some semblance of peace once more...

He had just collected a small box of artisanal marzipan fruits and some chocolates from the smiling confectioner when his phone began trilling. Kuroo felt his gut plummet straight through the floor as Kenma's name flashed on the screen.

Nearly dropping his purchase in the scramble to accept the incoming call, he pressed the device to his ear and tried to ignore the way his voice cracked upon answering.

"Hey, everything okay? You're still in Italy, right?"

There was a pregnant pause from the other line, followed by a low clearing of his best friend's throat. "Ah, yeah...yeah, I'm still in Milan until the weekend at least."

Another terse silence stretched between them - leaving Kuroo plenty of phantom shadows to populate with increasingly paranoid visions of half-articulated transgressions exposed. He was just about to blurt out some frantic platitude or innocuous excuse when Kenma's mild baritone interjected again.

"Sorry, I don't mean to call unannounced like this," he began in his usual reserved candor. "It's just...well, I've tried reaching [Y/N] herself but she hasn't picked up all day, and I wanted to check-"

"Oh, no, she's totally fine!" The words burst out in a panic-soaked rush before Kuroo could help himself. He forced himself to take a steadying inhale before continuing in a more modulated tone. "Yeah, we've just been...keeping busy and all while you're away. You know how she gets sometimes."

He winced at his own flustered rambling, but pressed on, desperate to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory. "Actually, it's kind of impressive. [Y/N] has really doubled down on her studies this week."

There was a pregnant pause on the other end before Kenma's responding laughter filtered through, dry and mildly disbelieving. "My [Y/N]? Studying voluntarily without being threatened bodily harm? Now I know you're kidding me, Kuroo."

Kuroo smiled thinly, well aware of how unlikely his claims sounded given your typical scholarly apathy. Still, he persisted, an idea sparking with sudden conviction. "I'm being totally serious, man. She's been holed up in her room almost nonstop, burying her nose in books and typing away at assignments. It's like she got body-snatched by a model honors student or something."

The laughter faded into skeptical quiet as Kenma seemed to realize his best friend wasn't joking around. "Wow...I, uh...I don't really know what to say," he admitted, sounding mildly bewildered. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled if she's taking her coursework seriously for once. But you have to admit it's a pretty drastic turnaround for my little hellraiser."

Kuroo couldn't help but grin ruefully at the apt description, old memories of teenage hellraising antics replaying in his mind's eye. "Tell me about it. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop and some massive rager or scandal to emerge."

"Hey now, don't give her ideas!" Kenma's feigned scolding was tinged with paternal fondness that made Kuroo's chest clench unexpectedly. "I'm putting my faith in you to keep her on this suddenly motivated path."

"You got it, don't worry," Kuroo assured him, tamping down the reflexive urge to confess the twisted detours you'd nearly led him down already. He sighed, shifting the bakery box to his opposite hand as he stepped out into the dusky evening air. "I'll keep a close-"

His words trailed off abruptly as his gaze landed on a darkened alleyway across the street. There, illuminated by a security lamp's harsh glow, a couple was intertwined in a heated embrace against someone's parked car. More specifically, the unmistakable figure of a young woman in a criminally short dress was straddling her companion's lap, hands fisted in his hair as she devoured his mouth with wild abandon.

Despite the poor lighting, something about the tumble of hair and feminine curves sparked a flicker of disquieting familiarity in Kuroo's chest. He squinted, trying to make out more details before forcing out an awkward chuckle.

"Damn Kenma, you're never gonna believe what I'm looking at right now," he muttered, unable to tear his gaze from the brazen public display even as he cringed. "Some chick literally grinding on some poor bastard's car like she's filming the intro to a bad porno. And get this - she looks dead-on like [Y/N]!"

The crass attempt at humorous deflection died on his lips as the security lamp flared brighter, casting the woman's face into sharp relief. Because there was no mistaking the upturned nose, the sensuous curve of those lips currently trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her partner's stubbly jawline...

It was you.

His daughter. His precious, frustratingly impulsive little girl straddling a stranger in the filthiest backstreet grope Kuroo had ever witnessed...right under his nose while he regaled Kenma with laughable tales of your studious reformation.

Something seemed to splinter behind Kuroo's ribcage as numbness descended like a burial shroud. He barely registered Kenma's concerned voice buzzing against his ear until the words "...llo? Kuroo? You still there?" pierced through the fog.

"Uh...y-yeah, sorry," he stammered weakly, unable to tear his gaze away even as you gyrated against your would-be lover with shameless abandon. "No, you're...you're absolutely right. Just another unfounded worry on my part."

He forced out a hollow chuckle, bile stinging the back of his throat as his stare stubbornly remained transfixed. "Don't worry about a thing over here. Everything is...is totally under control as per usual..."

The lie dripped like acid from his numb lips, curdling what little remained of his composure into smoldering embers. Before Kenma could probe or contradict further, Kuroo managed to force out some pithy excuse about paperwork needing attention and quickly terminated the call.

He stood rooted in place, chest heaving with ragged breaths as he absorbed the full, damning picture before him. You - tender, smart, mature you who mere hours ago had sworn up and down to reform your rebellious ways - rutting against a stranger in the most brazen, obscene manner imaginable.

The girl Kuroo had admonished himself to protect above all else, even his own pitiful weaknesses, was practically unraveled beyond recognition before his eyes. And all he could do was stand helpless witness while the sordid tableau unfolded around him like the punchline to a particularly cruel, cosmic joke.

Kuroo's entire being detonated into an inferno of fury as he watched you grind shamelessly against the stranger, uncaring of the sordid public spectacle. Every muscle went taut, tendons straining beneath his skin as a crimson haze of rage descended.

Part of him raged at the brazen deception - the fresh wounds of your earnest vows to reform and focus on your studies still burning raw. He'd actually begun to entertain cautious hope that this tempestuous chapter between you might reach some semblance of equilibrium once more. But here you were, spitting on that fragile detente without a shred of remorse.

But an even larger part seethed with something darker, more visceral. A primal, proprietary need to rip you away from that defiling embrace and reclaim what was his by...what? Right? Possession? The twisted tangle of sinful cravings you'd awakened anew these past few days that now clamored to be sated at any cost?

Kuroo's jaw clenched hard enough to grind enamel as you threw back your head in apparent bliss, lips parting in a punched-out moan of shameless rapture. His vision whited out momentarily, entire body going rigid as that same bestial impulse to claim and conquer you flared with blinding intensity.

Before conscious thought could fully intervene, his legs propelled him across the street in long, devouring strides. You didn't even register his thunderous approach until he was upon you, one large hand fisting in the hair at your nape to wrench you backwards.

"What the everloving fuck do you think you're doing?" Kuroo's voice lashed out in a guttural snarl so unrecognizable, even he barely identified it.

You yelped at the violent snapping of your heads, features contorting in a wince of discomfort as you were forcibly separated from your would-be conquest. Your erstwhile partner blinked in shock before bristling indignantly.

"Hey man, what the hell is your pro-"

Kuroo whirled on the hapless stranger with a look of such barely leashed violence, the other man actually flinched back. You seized the momentary distraction to scramble off the car's hood, chest heaving and confusion written large across your delicate features.

"Tetsurou, what are you-"

But Kuroo cut off your protest by reaching out and fisting an iron grip in your upper arm. You gasped at the punishing force, squirming futilely as his fingers dug in without mercy.

"We're leaving," Kuroo spat out through grinding molars, hauling you bodily against his side. "Now."

The unfortunate bystander who'd had his lurid plans so rudely interrupted seemed to rally his machismo at last. Squaring his shoulders, he took an inadvisable step forward - fists clenched and chest puffed out in a transparent display of misguided intimidation.

"Hey pal, I don't know who the hell you are," he sneered in a tone that was almost laughably unthreatening to Kuroo. "But you need to back the fuck off before I make you. The lady and I were in the middle of something private."

You opened your mouth to protest or deflect - undoubtedly either an innocuous excuse or an outright attempt at sneaking away if Kuroo had to guess. But any chance of mitigating this catastrophic situation through words or hollow placation had already burned to ashes in his blistering fury.

"Shut your goddamn mouth before I shut it for you," Kuroo growled, voice descending to a register of pure hellfire and devouring intent.

He didn't wait for the confused fratboy to rally another feeble retort. With insulting ease, Kuroo dragged you around and slammed the smaller man against the hood of the same car that had been the backdrop to such sordid debauchery only moments ago.

"This woman is my girlfriend," he snarled directly into the man's ashen face, not even registering the lie as it spilled from his bile-stained tongue. "And if you so much as look at her the wrong way again, I'll bury you out here in a shallow fucking grave. Nod if you understand."

The other man nodded with frantic obedience, every trace of posturing now wiped away by the tangible promise of violence rolling off Kuroo in searing waves. He barely registered you trying to twist out of his bruising grip, frantically motioning towards the terrified bystander.

"T-Tetsurou, stop! You're scaring him!" You hissed through plump, swollen lips. "Just let me handle this, you're only making it worse!"

With a wordless rumble of unadulterated venom, Kuroo tightened his fist in your hair and wrenched your head aside until your full attention focused solely on him.

"Don't you dare try and control the narrative now, little girl," he spat in a tone laced with sulfur and sin. Noting your flicker of apprehension at the potent authority in his commanding rumble seemed to kickstart some sadistic amalgam of satisfaction and self-loathing in his gut. "You lost all privileges to dictate anything when you decided to spread your legs and make a whore of yourself five minutes ago in public like a desperate fucking slut."

Your eyes widened into saucers at the vulgar insult, color searing your cheeks to match the angry flush staining your chest. But you wisely remained silent, apparently sensing the knife's edge Kuroo now teetered upon.

Not sparing the traumatized third wheel so much as a glance, Kuroo finally released his grip only to seize your arm once more. He dragged you away from the sordid scene in a wake of your stumbling footfalls, beelines towards where his car idled with ruthless intent.

"I swear to every higher power listening," he growled through clenched teeth as he hauled you implacably forward. "If you so much as look at another man between here and home, I'll toss you in the trunk like a misbehaving pet."

You couldn't entirely muffle the wounded sound that wrenched free, even as the furious compliance in your strides never faltered. Kuroo relished the heady swirl of shame and debauched satisfaction with equal relish - an intoxicating amalgam of brutality and corruption that threatened to rip the very seams of his tattered control wide asunder.

The drive back to Kuroo's apartment passed in thick, seething silence. You huddled against the passenger door, arms wrapped defensively around your midsection as you steadfastly avoided Kuroo's burning glare. The air was choked with unspoken recriminations and simmering fury.

Kuroo's knuckles were bone-white where they gripped the steering wheel, tendons standing out in harsh relief against his forearms. His jaw muscles ticked and flexed as he ground his teeth, struggling to contain the torrent of anger and disappointment roiling just beneath the surface.

When they finally arrived, Kuroo threw the car into park with more force than necessary, the tires chirping in protest. Without a word, he flung open his door and stormed towards the building's entrance, expecting you to follow. The fact that you immediately fell into step behind him only stoked his ire further.

It wasn't until you were both inside, the apartment door slamming shut with an ominous thud, that the dam finally burst.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Kuroo's voice lashed out like a whip crack in the tense quiet. He turned on you, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and something darker, more visceral. "Going off half-cocked like some reckless teenager chasing the next cheap thrill?"

You lifted your chin defiantly, refusing to be cowed. "I don't need to explain myself to you, Kuroo. You're not my father."

"You're damn right I'm not," he growled, advancing until you were forced to tip your head back to maintain eye contact. "Because if I was, I'd have spanked your disobedient little ass into next week a long time ago."

Your nostrils flared, clearly affronted by his harsh words. "That's real rich coming from the guy who nearly mauled a complete stranger just because he was getting a little action."

A muscle in Kuroo's cheek twitched at your mocking insinuation. "Don't play dumb, [Y/N]. We both know that shameless display had nothing to do with a casual hookup. You were out there practically begging to be treated like a glorified street walker."

His voice was low, dangerous, but you didn't back down an inch. If anything, your eyes glinted with fresh belligerence.

"And what if I was?" You challenged, jutting your chin out stubbornly. "My body, my choice who I decide to allow all over it. What's it to you, really?"

Kuroo closed the remaining distance between you in two strides, his larger frame suddenly looming over yours in clear intimidation. But rather than shrink away, you simply tilted your head back further, almost goading him with your refusal to yield.

"You want to act like a selfish, rebellious brat who doesn't comprehend consequences?" His voice was a rough growl now. "Fine, we can do this the hard way."

Your eyes widened a fraction at the tacit threat, but you disguised any trace of unease with a derisive snort. "Oh yeah? You gonna put me over your knee too while you're playing stern disciplinarian? Because we both know how well that worked out last time."

There it was - the flash of unmistakable hunger flickering to lurid life behind Kuroo's stare. You saw it, knew exactly which button you'd just pressed to fan the flames of his smoldering temper into something...else entirely.

"Keep pushing me," he rumbled, so close now that his words puffed hot over your parted lips. "I'm begging you, princess. Give me one more bratty remark, one more button to justify bending you over and showing you exactly what dealing with a selfish little brat like you really entails."

There was a beat of loaded silence, the undercurrent between you becoming a live wire of yearning and reproach in equal measure. Your tongue darted out to wet your lower lip, and Kuroo's gaze tracked the motion with laser focus, a muscle feathering in his clenched jaw.

"Is that a promise?" The words were little more than a throaty rasp, both challenge and outright invitation wrapped in velvet sin.

Kuroo's harsh exhale ruffled your hair, the sound more akin to a predator's growl than anything remotely human. Then, without warning, his hands landed on your hips in an unforgiving grip as he wrenched you flush against his rigid frame.

The breath stalled in your lungs as they finally breached that last fraying tether of resistance. One of you moaned - you couldn't tell who - before your mouths collided in a bruising, frantic clash of lips and teeth and shuddering need.

Kuroo's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips hard enough to leave lurid blossoms of mottled imprints as he wrenched you against the searing brand of his cock. A ragged growl tore from deep in his chest - part exaltation, part feral conquest - as your bodies collided with heated friction.

"You want this so fucking bad, don't you?" The words emerged in a gravel-roughened rasp that seemed to reverberate straight through to your molten core. "All those pouty little teases and wanton displays, just baiting me to give you exactly what your greedy body has been begging for."

He didn't give you a chance to respond before crushing his mouth over yours in a bruising, devouring kiss that rapidly turned slick and filthy. His tongue swept past your gasping lips to lash against yours in blatant possession, searing paths of possession that seared straight down to your quivering center as surely as any physical brand.

You whimpered against the onslaught, hands scrabbling up Kuroo's broad back to clench in the taut musculature knotted there. His hips rolled against you with a carnal grind of dominance that made you instinctively part your thighs wider in helpless invitation.

Kuroo noted your wanton display instantly, growling his viciously smug approval against the vulnerable curve of your throat where his scorching path led next.

"Fuck, look at you..." he rasped in a tone transmuted to pure gravel-laced decadence. "So goddamn desperate to take everything I've got already, and I've barely even begun claiming what's mine."

His fingers squeezed even tighter into the giving flesh of your ass, hauling you up until you were forced to lock your legs around his narrow hips to avoid tumbling fully into his punishing momentum. Kuroo took advantage instantly, rutting against your cloth-dampened heat with searing undulations that made your head fall back on a breathless moan.

"That's it, beautiful," he growled against the rapid flutter of your pulse point before lathing a heated path along the bared slope with his tongue. "Let me feel every one of those pretty little whimpers you've been dying to release..."

One large palm slid higher to palm the generous swell of your breast with merciless ownership. Your back arched as if electrified, nipples pebbling to diamond-sharp points that were promptly soothed by the calloused friction of Kuroo's palm kneading the swollen curves.

"A single night of you taunting me with that heavenly body was almost my undoing," Kuroo confessed in a fractured rasp that set your nerves afire. His lush lips branded a molten path up the vulnerable column of your throat until you trembled against him fully.

"Fuck...I can only imagine how quickly I would've self-destructed if I'd had you spread out and waiting for me with those big eyes begging for my cock night after night..."

Your entire body seized at the guttural benediction, walls fluttering against the scorching outline of Kuroo's cock still rutting against you with blistering intent. He swallowed your keening whimper with another punishing kiss that left you dizzy - tasting coppery crimson and utterly overwhelmed in the wake of his ruthless dominion.

By the time he tore his mouth from yours at last, you were quaking against him like a leaf in a storm - overwrought and delirious with a forbidden inferno now raging unchecked.

"Stay with me..." Kuroo entreated in a cadence that felt scored straight into your flayed nerves. The calloused rasp of his fingertips trailed rioting spirals of shattered restraint as he petted your sweat-dampened tresses back from your flushed features.

"Stay right here while I finally put that dirty little mouth of yours to use..." He ground out the barely-cloaked threat through gritted teeth. Those piercing hazel eyes you'd admired for so long now sparked with more lust and menace and proprietary challenge blazing behind them than you'd ever glimpsed before.

And the most terrifying part was how it didn't make you quail or retreat but rather molten thrills of eagerness knot in your quivering belly as Kuroo slowly lowered you back to your shaky feet. Heat sang straight through your veins at whatever reckoning had finally been unleashed between you...and how utterly powerless you felt to halt its all-consuming torrents even if you'd wanted to.

Kuroo stepped back at last, allowing you space enough to sway in dizzy abandon at the sudden deprivation of his scorching embrace. He watched you with the heated focus of a starving man beholding the most decadent delicacy - eyes burning over every trembling inch as his chest heaved with ragged drafts.

Then he lifted one hand towards you in a cruelly languid beckoning that made your entire body ignite with fevered possibility. That same hand you'd felt cradle your cheek was now extended imperiously, awaiting the benediction of total capitulation from your wrecked, overblown form.

"Come here..." Kuroo husked out with quiet promise that brooked no refusal. "And let me feel that greedy little cunt stretched around me while I teach it some manners for once."

With a strangled gasp, you stumbled forward on leaden legs. You didn't dare tear your gaze away from the predator's eyes that pinned you with such carnal hunger. Didn't risk shattering this fever-dream of temptation and utter ruination that seemed poised to engulf you completely.

When you were within arm's reach, Kuroo wasted no time, wrenching you flush against him with a bruising grip on your hip. Your lips parted in a startled gasp at the searing contact of his rigid cock grinding against the soaked gusset of your panties, but before any sound could escape, Kuroo had already seized the back of your neck with his other hand.

Your eyes flew wide in shock at the sheer possessive weight of his grip pinning you in place. But even as you tried to wrench away, a sharp slap across your ass stilled you immediately.

"That's right, beautiful," Kuroo purred, low and deadly. He rocked his hips in a punishing roll against the soaked seam of your underwear that made you shudder in helpless bliss. "You've got no say anymore. Not when you decided to behave like a reckless, attention-starved little brat and beg for someone else's cock like a cheap whore. No..."

He gave a rough, rumbling growl that vibrated all the way down your spine. Your toes curled against the floor, thighs quivering with the effort to remain upright under the onslaught. His words were like a physical brand, scorching their way through the remnants of your tattered resistance.

"From now on, I own every inch of you, including that perfect pussy," he crooned, the filthy promise making your cunt clench. "Every single delectable inch is mine to do with as I please. And if that means teaching you a lesson in the process..."

You could feel his smirk against your ear, the sharp, dangerous edge of it making you whimper. His palm slid from your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat with a firm pressure. Your eyes fluttered closed at the deliciously heady sensation, pulse fluttering under his touch.

"Then so be it."

You squealed as Kuroo suddenly lifted you off your feet, his hands gripping the back of your thighs to hoist them up and around his waist. Without a word, he started carrying you toward his bedroom, a small, distant corner of your brain marveling at his effortless strength.

Your back collided with his mattress a moment later, the abrupt impact forcing the air from your lungs in a startled gasp. Kuroo stood over you, hands working furiously at the buckle of his belt and the button of his slacks. The sight made something dark and twisted unravel deep in your belly, a need so overwhelming it threatened to drown you entirely.

The belt came free first, followed shortly by his pants. He made no move to remove them, simply lowering his boxers just enough to free the engorged length of his cock. The sight stole your breath all over again, your eyes greedily drinking in the sight of the thick, veiny shaft, already dripping with an ungodly amount of precum.

You didn't get long to stare, though, because a second later, Kuroo was grabbing your ankle and dragging you towards the edge of the bed. You yelped at the unexpected jolt, hands scrabbling for purchase in the soft sheets beneath you as he flipped your body around with ruthless ease.

His cock was now directly above your face, the tip dripping with need. With a low groan, Kuroo wrapped his fist around his throbbing shaft, pumping it slowly as his free hand grabbed the back of your head. Your scalp prickled at the sudden tug on your hair, a low, wounded sound escaping the back of your throat.

"You wanted this so bad, remember?" he grunted. His hand continued to pump his length, the head inches from your lips. You could see the way his cock twitched, hear the obscene sounds his hand made as he stroked himself, and your tongue darted out to swipe across your lower lip.

"Beg for it."

The command was simple and straightforward. Yet it struck at the deepest, most secret part of you, the part that was so desperate to be claimed, used, and ravaged, no matter the consequences. The part that had been aching for him since the day you'd first stayed with him.

"Please..." The word came out as a whine, pathetic and pitiful and needy. "Kuroo, please. Please fuck my mouth. Use me, however you want. I'm yours."

"Yes, you are," he rumbled. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling your face up to meet his cock. It slapped against your cheek, sticky pre-cum smearing along your skin, and a moan spilled from your lips. "Mine."

The tip of his cock dragged along your cheek, up towards your parted lips. It brushed across them, leaving a trail of his essence that you eagerly licked up, the bitter-salt taste flooding your mouth.

Kuroo groaned above you, eyes dark and dangerous and so fucking hungry. He thrust forward, cock sliding into your waiting mouth, and the world narrowed to that point of contact, the sensation of his length pressing against your tongue.

You moaned around his girth, and Kuroo's eyes fluttered closed, a hiss escaping him. He held your head in place as he began to fuck your mouth in slow, shallow thrusts, cock gliding along your tongue.

Your body felt alight with need, skin burning and prickling and electrified. Everything was too much and not enough, the air charged with anticipation and desire and an undercurrent of desperation. Your thighs pressed together, trying to alleviate some of the building pressure, and a muffled cry escaped you at the friction.

Kuroo opened his eyes at the sound, gaze darting down to where you squirmed on the bed. A low chuckle rumbled from him, and he withdrew his cock, letting it hover in front of your face. A thin trail of spit and pre-cum connected the tip to your lips, and the sight sent a shiver through you, made you clench around nothing.

"Is someone feeling left out?" Kuroo murmured, voice dripping with wicked promise. You nodded, unable to speak, and his cock twitched, another bead of pre-cum leaking from the slit.

"Then be a good girl and get yourself off for me. I want to watch while I fuck your mouth."

He waited until you'd shifted onto your knees, hand sliding down your belly, before plunging back inside your mouth. You moaned, the vibrations making his cock twitch, and slid your fingers underneath the band of your panties.

Your arousal was coating the insides of your thighs, had likely left a damp spot on the sheets beneath you, and you bit back a whine at the slick, gliding sensation as you ran two fingers along your folds. They slipped inside effortlessly, your walls already pulsing and hot and so, so needy.

Kuroo watched it all with an intensity that was both thrilling and terrifying, the hand not holding your head steady flexing into a fist as he fought for control. His hips rocked into you with more purpose, and your own fingers found the spot that had you seeing stars.

The room filled with the wet, squelching sounds of your fingers pumping into your pussy, the slap of Kuroo's balls hitting your chin, and his deep, guttural moans. Your free hand came up to cup his balls, and he growled, thrusting deeper into your mouth.

"Fuck," he rasped. His eyes were hooded, and you could feel him swelling in your mouth. "Take your panties off. I want to see you cum with my cock down your throat."

You shuddered at the crude words, pulling your soaked fingers from your dripping pussy and hooking them around the fabric to pull it down your legs. It fell to the floor, and you spread your thighs wider, fingers diving back to the apex of your legs.

A strangled noise tore from Kuroo's throat, and he thrust harder, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each snap of his hips. His pace was growing erratic, and you could tell he was close, could feel his balls tightening in your palm.

You pumped your fingers faster, the pressure in your belly building, coiling tighter and tighter. You were so fucking close, and the knowledge that Kuroo was seconds away from blowing his load down your throat was almost enough to send you over the edge.

"Look at me."

You obeyed instantly, eyes locking onto his. The intensity of his gaze nearly shattered you, the raw desire, the possessive hunger, the sheer need written on his face. Your walls clenched around your fingers, and the dam broke, a gush of liquid heat spilling from your core as you came.

Kuroo swore, his eyes fixed on the puddle of cum soaking into the sheets, and then his hips stuttered, cock jerking violently as he came. Hot, sticky ropes of cum coated your throat, and you swallowed around his length, milking him for every last drop.

His chest was heaving when he finally pulled out, his fist releasing its hold on your hair to lazily squeeze the remnants of his orgasm onto your lips. You opened without thinking, licking his cum from your lips as it fell, and Kuroo groaned.

"Fucking hell, you're perfect," he breathed, tucking his cock back into his boxers. He bent to scoop you up in his arms, cradling you to his chest like a precious treasure. "Kenma raised a fucking goddess. I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to ever let you leave this bed now."

The rest of your stay was a haze of sweat-slicked skin, tangled sheets, and broken cries. Kuroo spent the remainder of the week fucking you every way he could, on every available surface, until you could no longer think straight, until your legs were trembling from exertion and you were covered in a multitude of love bites and hickeys.

But the one thing that stuck with you most, the image that had been burned into your mind from the moment you'd arrived, was the look of pure, undiluted worship in Kuroo's eyes.

And it was that look that made you realize you would never be able to leave him, not for good. Because somewhere between the late-night talks and the teasing banter and the way he looked at you, Tetsurou had taken root in your heart.

The day of Kenma's return dawned with an electric undercurrent thrumming through the apartment. You stirred against Kuroo's furnace-hot skin, roused by the featherlight caresses he was trailing down the dips of your spine.

"He'll be here soon," Kuroo murmured, the graveled timbre of his morning voice making you shiver. There was an unspoken weight behind the words, an acknowledgment that your insular haven was nearing its inevitable end.

Rather than being cowed by the looming presence of reality, you felt a defiant spark flare to life in your core. Pushing up to your knees, you allowed the tangled sheet to slip sinuously from your body in a gauzy susurration until you knelt gloriously bare before Kuroo's riveted stare.

"Then we'd better make the most of our time left," you breathed, bracing your palms on his powerful chest as you straddled his hips purposefully.

Kuroo's hands flexed against your waist, fingers digging in with delicious possession. "You're insatiable, baby girl." His voice dropped an octave, dripping with undisguised sin. "Thought I'd have worked some of that greedy energy out of you by now."

"You'll just have to try harder then, won't you?" You leaned down to slant your lips over his in a messy, eager clash.

Kuroo surged upright with a growl, rolling you both until he caged you beneath the solid brand of his weight. His broad palms mapped scorching paths down your body until he was gripping the underside of your knees. Then he shoved your pliant legs apart to make room for his cock to grind forward in one slick, insistent thrust.

You cried out at the searing friction, back bowing as he bottomed out within your velvet depths. Kuroo swallowed the ragged sound with a searing kiss, setting a punishing pace that knocked the breath from your lungs.

"That's it, babygirl," he growled against the swell of your gasping lips. "Open up and take every thick inch of me while you still can..."

He drove into you then with undisguised relish, the bed frame creaking ominously beneath you. You locked your ankles at the small of Kuroo's back to brace yourself, fingertips scoring delicious crimson streaks along the corded ridges until your shared grunts and rough gasps filled the room.

You lost track of how many times he brought you to that shattering precipice, your cries reaching a fevered peak before Kuroo dragged you inexorably back over the edge with each new brutal joining. Only the muffled buzzing of Kenma's text chime finally caused Kuroo to slow his insistent rhythm.

"Looks like daddy's on his way up," he rumbled, sweat-slick hair hanging in wild disarray around his beautifully wrecked features.

Pinning you with a smoldering look of pure sin, Kuroo rose onto his knees, thick forearms flexing as he gripped your hips and heaved them upward to allow even deeper penetration.

"Time for one more ride, beautiful. Make it loud so he knows exactly who his little girl belongs to now..."

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #kuroo tetsuro smut #kuroo x reader smut #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #tetsurou kuroo x reader

808 notes · View notes

wintertime-in-june · 7 months ago

Text

A Marriage of Convenience

Colonel!König x Vulnerable!Reader

You sobbed, hot and heavy as tears streaked down your face. You looked at the email through bleary eyes one last time before swallowing the lump in your throat and letting out further cries.

Your visa had come to an end and your citizenship status was declined. You had to go back to your home country, back home, away from KorTac, off the Austrian base.

As König walked past the door to the empty teaching room in which you resided he heard it. The high pitched, sniffles and cries. No man on his base could make these delicate, heart wrenching noises, no, he knew it was you. His perfect little recruit, his good girl, y/n.

He stopped at the door to the room, ready to enter but wanting to do so carefully. Now was his chance, you were crying, upset and oh so vulnerable... in need of a big hero to swoop in and save the day. Now, he just had to find out what you needed and he could make all the pain go away...

He pushed the door open tentatively, trying his best not to nearly rip it from its hinges like he usually did. He scanned the room looking for his little girl and there you were curled up at the back, knees tucked against your chest, with your back against a cupboard. He couldn't help but smile at your small, helpless form. Quickly catching himself his face fell, back to its neutral, stoic stare as he shut the door behind him with a click.

You heard the door close and looked up to see the hulking man that was your Colonel walking towards you. Big, heavy combat boots trudging on the ground.

Your mouth fell into an 'o' as you attempted to wipe your tears away, shaky breaths and sniffles, trying to placate your crying.

The Colonel stood before you, looking down before he himself got down in a squat and eventually sat himself in front of you, arms resting on his knees.

"I'm s-sorry Colonel." You manage to stutter out, the tears having ceased but your choked up demeanour remaining.

He gave you a sympathetic smile, it was no secret he had a soft spot for you, although, no-one but him truly knew how deep it goes.

You gave him a small smile back, attempting to put on a brave face. 'Cute' he thought to himself as he tilted his head to the side.

"What's up kleine Maus?"

'Little Mouse', that was his nickname for you. You smiled a little at the use of the name, tears still brimming your shining eyes.

"I- I got an email," you managed to stutter out before the tears ensued once more, "they're sending me back Colonel, I don't know what to do."

You buried your face in your knees once more, breath shaking as you attempted to get some air in your lungs.

You unlocked your phone and passed it to König, letting him read the email.

"I don't want to go back." You said, barely above a whisper as you let out a shaky breath.

"I like it here," you continued, "I don't want to go back home, my parents... they're not nice... and here I get food and, and I have a bed."

You sob a little as you think back to your old life. Although the military was tough, for you it was an improvement, and you weren't ready to give all of this up.

König read the mail before placing the phone down. His eyes narrowed as you said why you didn't want to go back home. It upset him... no, it angered him that your home life could be worse than this. The one place you were supposed to have guaranteed safety and support and you did not.

"What am I going to do?" You said, choked up, lifting your head from your knees to look at the man that loomed in front of you.

"How could you stay?" König asked, already theorising how he was going to fight off anyone who would even attempt at taking you away.

"I would have needed approved citizenship, m- my visa ran out of time." You said, attempting to blink away tears but feeling yourself getting choked up again.

"But my citizenship was declined." You cried burying your head in your knees once more.

König let out a low sigh as he shuffled forward to sit next to you. When his back hit the cupboard that your own one rested on, it shook under the sheer force of him propping himself against it.

He snaked an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to lean on him. He rubbed the side of your arm soothingly, an expression of distain for the predicament resting on his features.

"O-or I'd have to marry a citizen, but that's not going to happen." You let out a shaky breath, almost like a laugh, as though even the notion was ridiculous.

König's eyes shot open, as if he was having a Eureka moment to say the least. His soothing rubs on the side of your arm stopping momentarily. "A-and why's that not going to happen?" He spoke perhaps too quickly, too eagerly.

You look up at him with a confused expression as if it were obvious.

"I don't have any boyfriend, let alone an Austrian one who would want to marry me in the next," you think for a moment, "...six days."

There is a beat of silence as König collects himself, tries to remain calm and chill.

"I'll marry you."

The air is thick with tension as he awaits your response. You can't believe what you're hearing.

"Really? You'd marry me?" You say softly, looking up at König with awe in your eyes. As if he'd saved you, as if he were your hero.

"But what about you? What if you want to get married for real someday, is there someone you like?" You ask, you couldn't believe he would do this for you.

He lets out a low chuckle, you don't even know the half of it. He wanted you, this was his dream, he could practically not contain the ecstatic happiness he was experiencing at your issue. He knew it was wrong. He knew he was a bad, bad man for enjoying this, but his heart was beating faster, he was holding back a smile and he couldn't help but seize this opportunity.

Before meeting you he thought he would die alone, but not from rejection, no, truth be told he has never been interested in a person enough to pursue them romantically, that was until you stepped into his office...

Perfect, cute, y/n, with an adorable little smile and oh... code violating underwear. That's how the two of you first met. On your first week, sent to the office by the Lieutenant for your dress code violations.

From that point forward he was obsessed, unbeknownst to you. You just thought he let you get away with more, being a girl and all. He was nicer, kinder, sweeter to you. Trying your baking, letting you sit with him at lunch, helping you over the walls in training. A caring Colonel.

"Come here." He said lifting you up and placing you in his lap.

You allowed him to do so, smiling a little, was he really going to fix your predicament?

He wrapped his large arms around you, thick muscles keeping you safe. You leaned into him hugging him back.

"I'm going to marry you, no-one is taking you away."

You couldn't help but smile more as you hugged him tightly. Your heart beating a little quicker.

"Thank you Colonel, thank you." You whispered.

He let out another chuckle.

"You know, you don't always have to call me Colonel, maus." He teased a little.

"What should i call you sir?"

"Mein Ehemann." he stated, petting your hair as you leant against his chest.

"Mein Ehrmann," you repeated, he smiled at this, "what does it mean?"

"Your husband."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, maybe this marriage would be for more than just convenience...

#WinterTime #konig x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #könig x reader #konig x you #konig x y/n #loser konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #cod konig #konig modern warfare #konig call of duty #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty

1K notes · View notes

luxaofhesperides · 8 months ago

Note

Final hour Ghostlights request! Soulmate AU where when your soul mate dies your soul mark expands. Duke was really heartbroken at first but now his soul mark makes it really difficult to keep his secret identity hidden because he is covered in a map of the cosmos. He has to use his shadow powers almost constantly to keep all the stars hidden! And and maybe they light up like actual stars when he uses his light powers.

He meets Danny at orientation or something at GU and they brush against each other and he just lights up like a supernova, all his stars literally blazing and he's just like "YOU!" Both excited and also OH MY GOD YOU ASSHOLE.

....I rambled a bit here I'm so sorry.

The thing about soulmates is that you don’t really know who they are until they die. And even then, most people never know who their soulmate was, only that they outlived them.

Duke became one of those people when he was thirteen.

He didn’t even notice until he went to change and saw the watercolor swirl of nebula spill out from over his heart.

One moment, he was tired and angry, ready to sneak out of his latest foster home to search for his parents and do all the things adults have failed to do. The next, he’s collapsed on his knees, shaking, unable to breathe as he tries to rip his soulmark off of his skin. He couldn’t think past the shock and horror of realizing that his soulmate is dead and Duke didn’t even know until that moment.

They’ll never get to meet.

Duke had never felt so alone before.

He spent the next few days in shock, his mind a mess of static, unable to focus. He hid away in his room, buried under the covers, and his foster parents were understanding when he whispered my soulmate’s dead. They called him out of school and brought him food and water throughout the day, gentle encouraging him to eat something every few hours.

But disaster waits for no one, and Batman was gone, so Duke pulled himself out of his misery and hit the streets again.

So his soulmate’s dead. So his parents are gone. So Gotham’s falling apart.

No one’s doing anything about it, so it’s up to Duke to start fixing things. It’s not like he had much to lose.

Soulmates become a bit of a taboo topic to him, after that. He speaks of them to no one, avoids all conversation about them, refuses to stay when people talk about soulmarks. He tries not to look at his soulmark at all.

And then he takes a hit to the chest and patches himself up with shaking hands. For the first time in months he looks at his soulmark again and…

Did it… grow?

Duke prods it gently, letting out a hiss when his bruised ribs protest at the movement. He remembers the mark being right over his heart.

But looking at it now, it branches out, swirls of galaxy and constellations reaching out along his ribcage.

Panicked, Duke grabs for his computer and looks up soulmark growth and webmd soulmark abnormalities.

Neither give him any answers, though WebMD helpfully suggests skin cancer.

“I’m gonna ignore this,” Duke decides, and pulls on a shirt and goes to sleep. The less he thinks about his dead soulmate, the better.

Time passes and Duke goes from being a Robin to being the Signal, a legitimate vigilante working with Batman. It’s nice to see Gotham start to settle, things falling into place. For once, nothing is awful; Duke’s found his parents and doctors are looking for a cure for long-term exposure to Joker Gas, Batman’s taking care of Gotham with a number of other Bats, Duke is getting used to his powers and slowly making a good name for himself out on the streets.

He keeps his focus on protecting people and getting stronger, helping solve cases with the other Bats. No one mentions soulmates, so he keeps his ever expanding soulmark a secret.

The only problem is that it keeps growing and Duke is concerned that it’ll move to a place he can’t easily hide under his clothes.

And he does need to hide them. The more his soulmark has grown, the more obvious it is, especially when he uses his powers and the stars on his skin light up like the Fourth of July. He knows it’s abnormal, but it’s also his soulmark and he doesn’t want anyone, least of all Bruce, poking around trying to study it.

The grief still lingers when he looks at it, but Duke has long since grown used to it. If anything, these days he’s quietly annoyed by how far the galaxies on his skin spread out, forcing him to take tank tops and shorts out of his wardrobe.

There’s also the tentative hope that maybe his soulmate is immortal and keeps coming back to life after they die. And they must also have terrible luck, because they just keep on dying.

Case in point: his soulmark flares and spills out onto his shoulder and wraps around his bicep. It’s not the first time he’s seen it move, but it still startles him.

“Are you serious,” Duke mutters to himself, pulling at his sleeve to adjust it and hopefully hide his soulmark. The starts are bright against his skin, and while sometimes he likes to trace them with his finger, now is not one of those times.

As pretty as it is, his soulmark is also very obvious and will cause people to realize his identity if they ever catch a glimpse of it while he’s out as Signal.

He sighs. There’s no choice but to live out the rest of his life in hoodies and sweatshirts.

As if to spite him, his soulmark grows once more.

Did his soulmate just die twice in the span of five minutes? That’s concerning.

He wishes he could meet them just so he can shake some sense into them. Maybe tell them to stop dying since it’s stressing him out so much. Maybe stick by their side to make sure they never have to die again. He’s honestly not sure what he’d do if he ever meets his soulmate, but he has to do something. This has gotten out of hand.

At least seeing his soulmark grow doesn’t hurt as much as it did a few years ago.

Lazily, he pulls at the light around him to hide the new portions of the soulmark on his arm from sight. It takes some focus, but he can hold it up long enough for him to grab a snack from the kitchen and retreat up to his room without being questioned by anyone. He could probably even keep this shirt on for the college orientation he needs to attend later in the day if the light works well enough to keep his secrets hidden.

He’s expecting Alfred in the kitchen when he arrives, but is greeted by Dick clapping a hand on his shoulder, right where his soulmark has claimed space. Duke falters and works to keep the light from fracturing as he returns Dick’s grin.

“Hey man,” he says, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out until Friday.”

“And miss a chance to hang out with you? No way. Besides, I wanted to give you a ride to your orientation.”

“You don’t have to,” Duke starts, only for Dick to cut him off.

“I’m going to,” he says, as if it’s a threat. “It’s been too long since we get to spend time together without a mask on. Are you really going to deprive me of this?”

Duke shakes off Dick’s hand from his shoulder, walking towards the pantry to find a small snack. “I guess not. It’s going to be pretty boring for you, though. I’m just going to listen to people talk about what college is like for a few hours.”

“We could always just walk around campus afterwards. I haven’t seen it since it was rebuilt after the last time Freeze attacked it.”

“Sure, that sounds fun. Thanks for offering to drive me.” Duke pulls out a box of Poptarts hidden behind stacks of pasta boxes and pulls out a pack for himself. He opens it and isn’t at all surprised when Dick steals one right out of his hands.

“Meet me out front in an hour then.”

And with that, Dick leaves, his stolen Poptart in hand, and Duke is left to shake his head and shove the Poptart box back into its hiding place. He heads off to eat his own snack, making sure no one is in the hallway as he lets go of his hold on the light. Already he can feel a migraine building with the immense focus he had to use to make sure nothing looked out of place.

At least Dick didn’t notice anything was off. If he can fool Dick, he can fool anyone.

Still, just to be safe, Duke changes into something with longer sleeves before he leaves and hops into the car with Dick.

The drive goes quickly to the tunes of ABBA, both of them singing along as they head for the GCU campus. Parking is a bit tricky, but they manage to find a spot a street away and walk towards the student union, where tables are laid out for incoming freshmen to sign in and grab a folder filled with papers meant to help them.

He waves to Dick and heads in once he gets his folder, and grabs a seat in the auditorium that’s close to a fire exit.

It takes another twenty minutes for the presentations to start. The lights dim and Duke panics for a brief moment before drawing the shadows over himself lightly to hide the soft glow of the star etched onto his skin.

They start with introductions, bringing in advisors, professors, and student ambassadors. Most of it is basic information that Duke already knows, so he zones out and plays with some shadows at his feet, where no one can see the way he twists shadows together like some dark magic form of finger knitting.

For the next hour, Duke halfheartedly listens to people talk about preparing for classes and keeping on top of schoolwork and learning how to ask for help. He’s saved enough college students that he knows the gist of things, and the orientation really doesn’t give him anything helpful.

He probably could have skipped, but he wanted a normal college experience.

He should have known that normal means boring as hell.

As soon as the presentation ends, an advisor encourages everyone to follow the schedule tucked into their folder to give them a half day modeled after a typical student’s schedule. Of course, all the classes are nonsense just to fill up their time, made to help freshmen coming into the college by covering topics such as how to write an email and an introduction to majors and minors.

Duke already declared himself as a Human Services major, his first step into becoming a social worker like his mom was.

Also he totally knows how to write an email, what are these advisors on about? Do they really think people his age can’t write emails?

Yeah, he’s ditching. The main presentation is really the only part that matters in the orientation. He’s not walking out on anything he needs.

Duke files out after the rest of the crowd, carefully letting the shadows slip off of him once he’s outside again. Instead of finding the first ‘class’ he’s supposed to go to in the Modern Languages building, he wanders off to find a quiet place he can sit down and wait until Dick finds him.

Tucked away towards the back half of the campus is a small nook full of trees, bushes, and benches. Judging by the amount of cigarette butts left in the single trash can there, it’s a popular smoking spot.

No one’s there, so the air is clean and free of smoke, so Duke heads in, hoping to sit down.

Someone else apparently has the same idea. He hops down from one of the concrete planters that’s keeping a bush contained and nearly falls on Duke.

They both shout in surprise, then Duke is moving without thinking, reaching out to steady the startled looking guy who accidentally jumped down in front of him.

Duke only has time to take note of how blue his eyes are before his hands wrap around the guy’s wrist and Duke feels his soulmark flare with warmth.

In the shade of the trees, the glow of each star on his skin is obvious. It’s visible even through the fabric of his shirt. His soulmark, at this point in his life, stretches across his chest, his ribs, his back, and now his shoulders and upper arms. All the stars in that watercolor galaxy are shining brightly as if the night sky has been draped across his body.

Soulmarks only react like that for one reason.

“You!” Duke shouts at his soulmate, both elated to see that he’s alive and annoyed that he made Duke’s soulmark so large. “Stop dying! Do you have any idea how much stress you’ve caused me?!”

“Oh my god,” the guy says faintly, eyes fixed on Duke’s chest where his soulmark originally rested, shining brighter and bigger than any other star, as if he’s tucked a sun into his heart. “Oh my god,” he says again, with more feeling.

“I’m so happy you’re alive, but please stop dying. It’s bad for my health.”

“I think I need to sit down?”

He does look very pale and faint. Duke tightens his grip on his soulmate’s arms and guides him to a bench, gently sitting him down.

“You’re not about to die, right?” Duke asks. “I don’t think my heart could take it if meeting me killed you somehow.”

“No, no,” his soulmate manages to say, “I’m not going to die. Um. Wow. I didn’t know my soulmark would do that? Sorry.”

“Well, it’s not like you had any way of knowing. It’s all good, man. Just please stop dying.”

His soulmate winces. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be possible. Sorry. Again.”

What does that mean, though? What does it all mean?

“Can I maybe get an explanation as to why you have to die again.”

“Mmmmm no. We just met and it’s kinda personal so. No.”

“Dude.”

Duke’s soulmate shrugs helplessly. “It really is personal! I know your my soulmate and all, so I’ll probably tell you one day, but right now I don’t even know your name.”

Oh shit. He’s right. Introductions completely slipped his mind, too busy reeling over the fact that his soulmate is here and alive. Which, honestly, would be enough to throw anyone off balance.

“Shoot,” Duke says. “Sorry. You just really caught me off guard. Hi, I’m Duke, I promise I’m more put together than that.”

“Hi Duke, I’m Danny, and I’ve apparently been traumatizing you for the past few years by making you think I keep dying.”

“Well. At least we’re thrown head first into the crazy. Best way to know if we’re be a good match.”

“You sure you can handle this? You seemed pretty frazzled a second ago.”

Duke flusters and lightly whacks Danny’s shoulder. “That’s normal! Anyone would do the same when meeting their soulmate for the first time!”

“Fair enough,” Danny laughs. “This is a totally weird request and you can absolutely say no, but… can I see?” He presses a hand against one of the glowing stars beneath this collar bone, looking up at Duke with wide, hopeful blue eyes, and Duke finds it so cute that he’s willing to do anything Danny wants.

“Here,” he says as an answer, pulling the collar of his shirt down a bit to reveal the nebula spilling onto his shoulder.

“Oh,” Danny breathes, tracing a light finger against it. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m guessing you like space?”

“Love it. I wanted to be an astronaut, but uh…. It’s never going to happen. Health problems, you know?”

“Well, I know it’s not the same, but I hope the stars you put on my body will be a good enough replacement.”

Danny cheeks turn red and he turns away, flustered. “Don’t smooth talk me right now, I’m not ready for it,” he mutters, bringing up a hand to try to hide his expression.

“Sorry, sorry,” Duke laughs, “I’ll try to keep the flirting down to a minimum. It’s just really great to finally meet you. And I’ve been wondering, what’s your soulmark look like?”

“Oh, well…” Danny fiddles with the long sleeve of his shirt. “I had a pretty bad accident years ago that kinda affected how my soulmark looks. So if it looks weird, that’s why, okay?” He takes a deep breath, then pushes up his sleeve, holding his wrist out to Duke.

The first thing Duke notices is the soft yellow glow, Signal yellow to be precise, running down his arm as if sunlight fills his veins. Then he sees Danny’s soulmark, a sun with rays that wrap around his wrist. And running through his soulmark are Lichtenberg scars, glowing yellow as if stealing the color from his soulmark.

“Guess we both got super obvious soulmarks, huh? At least we kinda match, that way.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Danny agrees.

“Man, what a day.”

Danny looks more relaxed with him now. It’s much better than the startled, tense version of him that first sat down on the bench. Duke hopes he chooses to stay with him; he doesn’t admit this often, willingly, or to other people, but he’s a romantic at heart and has always wanted to live a happy life with his soulmate. It’s still far off in the future, but he hopes Danny feels the same way.

“So, are you ditching the orientation classes to?” Danny asks.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m going. I mean, a class on how to send emails? They can’t be serious.”

“I know, right?! I saw that and thought I was being pranked. I mean, we’re going into college. We better know how to send an email by now.”

“Since we’re both free for now, wanna grab lunch with me? It can be our first date, if you want.”

“I’d love to! And you can show me around Gotham a bit. I’m coming here for college, but I haven’t really seen the city yet. It’d be nice to explore it with someone who knows where things are.”

“Are you free for the rest of the day? ‘Cause I wouldn’t mind showing you around, if you want.”

Danny smiles, radiant. “I am. I’m in your hands for the rest of the day.”

“Cool,” Duke says, trying not to think too much on that wording. It’s very suggestive, very flirtatious, and he’s looking forward to getting to know Danny more so he can start properly flirting. “Lemme just let my brother know to not wait up for me.”

He pulls out his phone and sends Dick a text that just reads: met my soulmate. going on a date now. i’ll see u back at the manor!

Then he puts his phone on silent and tucks it back into his pocket. He’ll tell Dick all about this later; for now, all his attention is on Danny.

Soulmates get priority, even stressful ones that give him the largest soulmark he’s ever seen.

And right now, he’s on a mission to find the best lunch spot to take his soulmate to for their first date. Everything else can come later; for now, he’s going to enjoy the time he gets to spend with Danny.

He hopes they’ve got a future together as bright as the stars in his soulmark.

Despite it all, Duke is sure they’re going to be alright.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #dannys obv not going to be able to keep his identity as phantom hidden for long in gotham #esp since he wants to protect people and transforms to do that #and one of those times will be in front of duke to protect him from some goons trying to kidnap duke for his connections to the wayne famil #duke ends up using his powers as well leading to an identity reveal on both ends #and then the dots connect and duke yells THIS IS WHY U KEEP DYING and danny has to sheepishly apologize for how large dukes soulmark is #he does kiss all the new stars that show up on dukes skin tho so hes forgiven very quickly #(not that duke was ever mad. he's just worried)#thanks for the prompt!!

1K notes · View notes

ramirezmindset · 2 months ago

Text

ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇ.

ᴛʏʟᴇʀ ᴏᴡᴇɴs x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

→ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: yourself and tyler go way back, further than you'd like to admit, but after a brutal end, it's been years since you've spoken. until one night when your roommate brings him home.

→ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: ANNNNGGSSSSTTTT, talks of fighting and yelling, reader and tyler having history, use of feminine pronouns and description, awkward asl atmosphere, sexual implication, longing, flashbacks will be in italics. ↳ wc: 4671 (not sorry)

→ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: this came to me when i was sat on the couch with MY roommates hahahaahah - requests are open!

↳ ❝ [ i shouldn't have called, cause we shouldn't speak. you do make me hard, but she makes me weak - save all the jokes you're gonna make, while i see how much drink i can take. then be my mistake ] ❞

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"Y/N, Emmie just texted me, she's found a male at the bar and he's coming back here" Your roommate Caroline slaps a hand over her mouth, biting back a laugh as you shake your head and chuckle. "I knew we should've joined her, but for some reason you refuse to go into that bar!"

"Carol, you know why I don't go there!" You scoff back, a playful smile on your face. You put the teaspoon in the sink and take a sip of the tea you just made, pushing a mug over the kitchen island to where Caroline sits. "I know that he tends to go there a lot and I just- I don't really want to be bumping into him and getting all weird and sad when I'm supposed to be having fun with my best girls"

"Yeah, yeah, Tyler this, Tyler that" You give her a disapproving look. "Ok, I'm sorry, that was rude. But I'm serious, Y/N, it's been four years. We never even met the guy, or even saw a photo! Surely if you were that spent on keeping him locked up in that little brain of yours for your eyes only, it can't have been that serious?"

"Oh, it was serious!" You defend, laughing and holding up your arms in mock offence. Carol wraps the blanket tighter around herself and leads you towards the couch, settling with her cup of tea, urging you to sit in front of her. "It was on and off like a strobe light, but I was crazy about him. And as far as I know, he was crazy about me. We just didn't mesh well. I mean, we had been together since we were fifteen, we grew out of each other, I guess"

"But you still have a photo of him in your wallet?" Your eyes widen at this statement, your face growing pale. "Relax, girl, I went in there to put your Costco card back and I saw a photo of some guy from the back. I assume it was him anyway and not some secret guy you've been hiding from us"

You bury your face in your hands in embarrassment, chuckling lowly to yourself. "That's Tyler alright"

"Y/N/N, will you just get in the truck?" Tyler said, holding his hand out for you to take. "Please?" You could never resist those puppy dog eyes, the one's you fell in love with all those years ago.

You smile at him, taking his hand and letting him lead you down the stairs of the porch towards his beat up old truck. Opening the door for you, he helps you climb in, a smile plastered across both your faces.

"Ty, where are you taking me?" You laugh, shaking your head at him as he just winks and shuts the door behind him, walking round the truck to slide into the drivers side.

"Now what would I gain from ruining the surprise, hm?" He turned the keys in the ignition and sped off down the dirt track of your parent's ranch, but instead of turning off onto the freeway, he heads in a different direction.

Deciding not to question him, you sigh and lean back into the headrest, staring at his side profile as he concentrates on the road. The furrow of his eyebrows, the clench in his jaw when he hits a particularly rocky piece of track, the slight smirk that flicks at the corner of his mouth when a song he likes plays on the radio.

"What are you staring at, pretty lady?" He jokes, glancing over at you and placing a hand on your thigh. "Something got your attention, hm?"

"Just my gorgeous boyfriend" You smile once again, interlocking your fingers with his hand that rests on your leg. "Thinking about how lucky I am to have such a beautiful man that loves me and drives me around and surprises me and buys me flowers and doesn't let me spend a dime."

"Yeah, you are pretty lucky" You both erupt into a fit of laughter as the truck pulls to a stop. He takes his hand off your thigh to take the keys out of the ignition and hops out the truck to open your door. "Here we are"

You look around you, confusion etching your features. "Tyler, this is the woods" He tuts at you.

"I knew you would say that. Just come with me" He takes your hand, leading you into the trees down a makeshift trail that's been made through hikers over the years. "You maybe know about this place, you maybe don't. I'm hoping don't"

You're walking for about 15 minutes before he tells you to close your eyes, grabbing your other hand to help you balance and show you the way. "Tyler, I am going to die out here!" You joke as you stumble over what feels like a branch.

"Relax, oh my Christ!" He laughs back, he pulls you into a stop as you find your feet on somewhat smooth ground. "Ok, keep your eyes closed. No peeking!" He lets go of both your hands and you feel him walk away, the crunch of his feet getting slightly further away before coming to a stop.

You take a deep breath, you arms still held out to the side slightly to keep your balance on the unfamiliar terrain.

"Ok, open" You open your eyes to find yourself on a wide cliffside at the edge of the woods, a picnic blanket sprawled out a few feet away from you where Tyler stood, and a basket full of what looks like all your favourite foods. A bottle of wine and two glasses sit comfortably on the blanket, and the city lights from below you glittered as the sun set below the peaks of the mountains miles away.

"Tyler, this is-" You place a hand on your heart, and you move your eyes to meet his, slowly walking towards where he was standing. "Tyler, this is incredible" You put your arm around his waist, pulling him in closely as you admire the intricacy of the set up. He places a kiss to your temple.

"I thought considering I'm leaving tomorrow for that storm, we could have a nice final date" He smiles, letting you go to sit down on the blanket.

"Nice?!" You exclaim, feigning offence. "Tyler, this is more than nice. This is perfect"

"Only the best for my girl" He winks, reaching for the wine and the corkscrew. "Now are you gonna sit down and enjoy this picnic with me, or are you gonna stand there staring?" He jokes again, fiddling about with the wine.

Before he could pester you again, you reach into your bag for your polaroid camera, an old thing Tyler got you for your seventeenth birthday that travels in your bag with you everywhere. Snapping a photo of him from behind, sat on the picnic blanket, the sun creating a silhouette of his frame, and all you could think in the moment was how beautiful he was, and how beautiful this could be.

"Earth to Y/N!" Caroline snaps her fingers from the couch opposite you. You flick back to reality, shaking your head and sheepishly apologising. "You OK?"

"Yeah!" You reply a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, I'm fine, just a bit tired"

"Do you mean tired or Tyler?" Caroline giggles as you half-heartedly fling a throw pillow in her direction. "Sorry, sorry! But seriously girl, it's been this long and he's still on your mind? He must've had you whipped, you haven't even been on a date since!"

"Yes I have!" You defend, placing your tea down on the coffee table and crossing your legs under your blanket.

"Fucking some guy on the gross sinks of the club handicap stall is not a date" She got you there. Suddenly, you hear the front door open, and Emmie's laughter echo around the hallway. "Christ, here she comes" Caroline sits up on the couch and fixes her hair, as if Emmie and her mystery man would come in the room anyway.

You were proven extremely wrong when the door is pushed open and your second roommate strolls in, three beers in hand. She throws one at you and one at Caroline, using her foot to keep the door open.

"I come bearing gifts!" Emmie exclaims, holding her own beer in her hands as you try biting the lid off the beer open. "We're gonna chill in here for a bit with you guys, Tyler's just taking his shoes off"

"Who?!" Caroline exclaims, as you choke on your own breath. "Who is gonna chill in here for a bit?" She looks between the two of you as you scramble on the couch to find the missing beer cap.

Confusion etches across Emmie's face, staring at you as you frantically sit back up, pushing your glasses back up your nose. "Oh shit!" She exclaims, her eyes widening in realisation. "Oh shit!"

"Oh shit what?" that all to familiar voice asks from behind her as he strolls into the living room, making eye contact with Caroline before turning towards you. His eyes grow wide, his hands immediately reaching to take his hat off and hold it to his chest. The hat that you bought him. That stupid, stupid hat that you spent a stupid, stupid amount of money on, but somehow all seemed worth it to see that stupid, stupid smile on his stupid, stupid face.

It seemed like forever that he was staring into you before Caroline broke the silence by clearing her throat. "Um, it's nice to meet you, Tyler. How are you, Tyler? What's going on, Tyler?" She raises her eyebrows at him, as you shoot her a glare.

"Uh- yeah, I'm good, you must be Caroline" He finally tears his eyes away from you to spare an awkward, tight-lipped smile. A familiar gut-wrenching embarrassment fills your body as you look down at your lap as it hits you that your ex-boyfriend is in your apartment, with the intention of fucking your best friend, and you're sat on the couch in your pyjama's drinking tea at 10pm on a Saturday night.

Emmie awkwardly sits on the couch next to Caroline, slipping her shoes off and mouthing a 'Sorry', reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone.

I'm so sorry, she texts you. I had no idea that was the Tyler, I'm gonna ask him to leave, tell him I don't feel well. I'm so sorry

You reply: you don't have to do that, i'm just gonna take myself off to bed

No this is my mess, Emmie's next text reads. I'll sort it all out.

Tyler's still standing awkwardly in the doorway as you launch yourself off of the couch and into the kitchen, pouring your beer down the sink out of pure humiliation. He still wore the same cologne, you could smell the sandalwood on his skin as you pushed past him, his warm flesh brushing against the bare skin of your arm. He still had that same look in his eyes all those years ago when he looked at you, that one of adoration.

You rub your eyes and look out the kitchen window of your apartment at the city lights, the rain pattering slowly against the glass panes as you sigh and lean your back against the counter. It was almost like mother nature was mocking you, laughing in your face as the memories of your last meeting with Tyler flooded your mind.

"Baby, just come back inside, we can talk!" He bellowed from his porch. "It's storming, Y/N, just come inside!"

You continue down his front path as the rain and hail slammed on the pavement. You didn't know what you were doing, your house was a forty-five minute walk from Tyler's place, but you knew you'd regret it if you gave in. Suddenly, his hand grabbed your bicep from behind, twisting you around. He saw your bloodshot eyes and puffy lips and immediately his features softened.

"Darlin', I'm sorry, please just come inside and we can talk it all out" His palm came up to cradle the side of your face, and you had to fight the urge to lean into his warm, tender touch.

"There's nothing to talk about, Tyler" You replied, shaking your head. Another tear rolled down your cheek, unrecognisable as the rain hammered down on your head. "You made your choice, let me make mine"

Tyler's eyebrows furrowed. "My choice? I choose you! I always chose you, I will always choose you!" His hand left your face, falling limp at his side.

"Tell that to Boone" You shook you head. "Tell that to everyone on that stupid fucking tornado chasing team! That's what you'd rather be doing!" He scoffs, wiping a hand down his face. "What? It's true! All I've done for the last decade is support you, I let you go off and do whatever it is you do in that stupid truck, I supported you in college when you didn't have a clue what you were gonna do with your life, I came with you on chases even though I fucking hate thunder, and I hate the danger, I do everything for you! And what do I get?"

"You get to be with me!" He cut you off, you were both yelling now, drawing attention from the neighbours as lights in the houses around you slowly turned on. "Isn't that enough? Am I not enough?"

"Don't you dare turn this on me!" You turn your back on him, wiping your face. You're too far in to let him see you cry. "Tyler, of course you're enough. I'm in love with you, I have been for ten years, but all I do in this relationship is hurt. I don't feel loved, I feel like you're not satisfied until you've got your adrenaline fix on some tornado hundreds of miles away from you. Am I supposed to sit on the porch knitting, waiting for you to show back up? God forbid my boyfriend cares about me and what I want!"

"If that's how you feel, maybe we shouldn't be together!" He exclaims, his hands flying into the air as the rain beats down harder and harder.

"Maybe we shouldn't!" Your shoulders slump as you stare at him, the hurt in his eyes clouding over as any ounce of hope he had in his body to remedy this is blown away by the wind and washed away by the rain. "We're not fifteen anymore, Tyler. I can't keep doing this, I can't keep hoping and praying that you'll come back to me alive. I just can't."

"Hey" Emmie's voice sounds behind you. You turn your head towards the kitchen door, where she's shutting it behind her. "I told Tyler I wasn't feeling well, and if I'm honest, he couldn't get out of here fast enough" She awkwardly chuckles and walks over to you, giving you a hug. "I'm so sorry, Y/N/N, I didn't know that was your Tyler. I would've never have spoken to him, let alone brought him home if I knew-"

"Emmie, relax" You reply, a dry laugh leaving your throat. "It's fine, there's no need to apologise. I was just shocked to see him, that's all. It's okay, I'm okay, I promise."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You climb out of the cab, Caroline and Emmie hot on your tail as the three of you link arms and giggle as you stumble towards the bar. The three bottles of wine you had in the refrigerator went down a treat as Emmie and Caroline coaxed you into drinking with them, and you let them convince you going to the bar that Tyler frequented was a fabulous use of your time.

It had been two weeks since your encounter with him, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't all you thought about. The look on his face, the smell of his skin and that goddamned hat that he still refused to part with all these years later.

You'd spent the majority of the past few weeks reminiscing on the relationship, thinking about what everything was and what it could've grown into. Where would you be today? On your own ranch, like your parents, but bigger, and would you finally have gotten that ring, maybe a couple of kids? Even today, when you pictured your future, it was always with him by your side.

The atmosphere in the bar was lively, music blasting out of the jukebox as you had to elbow your way to the bar for a drink. Your eyes take a scan of the room, but he wasn't in sight. A twang of disappointment struck you, as if you would've approached him anyway.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asks, but before you could open your mouth, someone responds for you.

"Black label, on the rocks" Tyler slides up beside you, the slight redness in his eyes indicating he was just as buzzed as you were. "Hey" He rests his elbow on the bar, passing the bartender his card and shooting you a smile.

He looked somewhat the same, his shoulders were broader and his smile no longer reached his eyes, but he was still your Tyler. The mischievous glint in his eye was gone, and he had grown some stubble, even with all the differences he was still just as charming as he was all those years ago.

"Hi" you reply, taking your drink from his hand and throwing it all down.

"Woah, slow down there, cowgirl" He laughed, his old nickname for you making shivers run up your spine. You glanced over your shoulder to find Emmie and Caroline, but they had scuttled off to a dark corner of the bar, no doubt to watch this interaction.

You had never felt more awkward in your life. All of a sudden the top you thought was cute three hours ago is too much for the atmosphere you're in, and your makeup is too perfect to be ruined by the tears that would inevitably fall within the next fifteen minutes.

Tyler nods his head towards the door, taking your hand delicately in his as he led you to the deck of the bar. Sparks shot up your arm and through your body at his gentle touch, his grasp far from firm, as if you were glass that would shatter. You follow him out and perch at an empty table overlooking the street.

"How are you?" He asked, looking at you, as if he could see inside your brain. You stare back, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm fine" You reply, nervously licking your lips and twiddling your fingers on your lap. This is so fucking awkward.

He gives you a knowing look. "No, you're not" He looks away from you and wipes his face with his hand, something he always did to stop himself from crying. "I know you're not, because I haven't been fine since we broke up. And we're cut from the same cloth, you and me, we've been interlinked since we met"

You were sat on the back porch of your parents ranch. It was a sweltering summers day, sweat licking at your skin as you shifted uncomfortably in the deck chair. Your friend Hannah was over, bringing a bottle of some sort of dark liquor with her as she sat next to you, pouring you both another glass.

"Say, when is your brother gonna be home?" She smirked at you as you playfully swatted her arm. "What!? He's hot!"

"Hannah, behave!" You laughed. "But it should be any minute now" You winked at her, reaching for your glass. Usually you wouldn't condone any of your friends getting with your twin brother, but Hannah had liked him for years and you kind of just wanted her to shut up.

As if on cue, the french doors of the patio slid open and your brother walked onto the porch, grabbing Hannah's glass and downing whatever concoction she had made for herself. She playfully giggled, and the sight made you sick to your stomach, but you laughed along anyway.

"Hello, Hannah" Your brother gave her her glass back before turning to you and grimacing. "Hello....thing...."

"Hello, ugly" you responded, pulling your sunglasses on top of your head and sitting up properly to face him. "Why did you have to come out here and ruin my time with my friend?"

"Um, it's hot, you fucking idiot, and the AC is broken, so Tyler and I are gonna chill out here. I see you have liquor, so we're gonna be enjoying that just as much as you are" He pulled up a chair opposite Hannah, so close to her that their knees touched. You wished he'd swallow his pride and make the first move, because you knew damn well Hannah wouldn't.

"Tyler?" Hannah asked, her eyebrows furrowing. "Who's Tyler?"

"I am" he said from behind you, a shadow was cast over your face as he moved to stand next to you. You looked up, and there he was, the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, and probably would ever see. "And you must be Y/N?" You nodded. "I've heard a lot about you"

"Good things I hope" You joke, a laugh bubbling out your throat as your brother clears his throat. "But if they're coming from my brother, I can't imagine it's anything but slander"

You all erupt into laughter, and that was it. After that day, Tyler never left your side.

You lean back into your chair, avoiding eye contact with Tyler. He wasn't lying, you two were eerily similar, and he'd always been the one person, aside from your brother, who could read you like a book. There was no denying your souls were hand crafted for each other.

"How's your brother?" He asks, a lame attempt at conversation.

"I thought you would know" You turned to look at him. "He married Hannah a few months ago. I was half expecting to see you there"

Tyler shook his head. "Corey hasn't spoken to me since we broke up. I think he's angry I broke his sister's heart"

Your lips form a tight line. "What do you want from me Tyler? Have you dragged me out here away from my friends to make pointless small talk or did you have anything of value to say to me?"

"Is it so wrong to want to talk to you?" He asks again, hurt brushing over his features before he regained composure. You roll your eyes and stand up, making your way back into the bar. Before you could walk in, Caroline runs over and slams the door to the deck shut in front of you, Emmie furiously pointing at Tyler, mouthing "fucking talk to him!"

You sigh in defeat and turn around to see Tyler smiling, shading his eyes from the heat lamp burning down on his skin.

"Guess you have no choice" He joked. "But I can't talk to you knowing your roommates are staring at us"

"Well, what do you propose?" You asked, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. You were not leaving the bar with him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You left the bar with him. You found yourself strolling down the street, buying a case of beer from the gas station and suddenly, twenty minutes later, you were sat on the cliffside Tyler took you to years ago, moderately buzzed from the mixture of beer and hard liquor.

"I still carry your photo in my wallet" You admit, looking at him on the other side of the bench. "The one I took of you here, in this exact spot, when you made us a picnic before you left on a chase"

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't done the same thing" He reached into his pocket and pulled a polaroid out of his own wallet. It was crumpled and faded, but you could still make out your own face in the moonlight, smiling up at the camera, eyes squeezed shut with Tyler's hat adorning your head. You laughed to yourself.

You settled into a comfortable silence, the subtle admission of lost love still hanging in the air, weighing down on you.

"Why?" He asked. You looked back at him. "Why did you keep it?"

"Why did you?" You retaliate, raising an eyebrow at him in suspicion.

"Why do you think?" He sighed and shuffled ever so slightly closer to you. "I remember when you broke up with me you told your brother I was the biggest mistake of your life. He came banging my front door down, probably ready to beat me to a pulp. I would've let him. But as soon as he told me that- as soon as he told me that you said I was a mistake, every bit of anger in me just dissipated. I was in love with you, hell, I am in love with you, and all I could do was question how I managed to fuck up so bad that our decade together felt like a mistake to you."

"You were never a mistake, Tyler" You whisper softly, choosing to ignore the fact he just admitted his love for you all these years later. "I was mad, mad that I let go so easily, and it was easier to blame you than admit that I broke up with you over something so- so mundane"

He had moved closer to you, his thigh pressing against yours on the bench as he leant down to put his empty beer bottle on the floor. He sat back up, putting one arm around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. You fit in the crook of his neck like a missing piece of a puzzle, and a satisfied sigh left your lips.

"Tyler?" You say, he hums in response. "You're in love with me?"

His shoulders tense as he sucks in a sharp breath. Maybe you should've continued to ignore it.

"Of course I am" he replies softly, lifting your head up and cupping your jaw. Finally, you lean into his touch, a smile tugging at your lips. "I have been for fourteen years. I could never love anyone like I love you, you're it for me"

You stare at him, allowing yourself to fall deeply into his gaze. His features had considerably softened since you first saw him in the bar. The glint of hope in his eyes had returned, and the crease in his brow has gone. The slow breeze pushed his hair slightly back, and you had to resist the urge to run your hands through his blonde locks.

He was slowly leaning in, and before you knew it, your eyes were fluttering shut as you felt his lips lightly graze yours. His other hand found the other side of your face, cradling you like you were the most precious jewel. Your hand instinctively goes up to hold his wrist, his skin rough against your palm.

"Can I- can I kiss you?" He whisper's against your mouth. You nod.

His lips finally pressed against yours, gentle and full of years of love. He tasted the same as he always did, the distinct flavour of vanilla from his chapstick he carried around in his back pocket. His lips slotted against yours perfectly as your arms made their way around his neck. For the first time in years, you felt at peace.

Tyler reluctantly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. "What do you say?" He whispered. "Be my mistake."

#tyler owens imagine #tyler owens smut #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens angst #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #twisters #twisters 2024 #glen powell imagine #top gun maverick #jake seresin #top gun jake seresin #twisters tyler owens #tyler owens x you

554 notes · View notes

auroraksr · 2 months ago

Text

PUPPY LOVE [ LANDO NORRIS ]

synopsis: you and lando as pet parents

warnings: fluff, just lando x y/n being the cutest, a lot of dog, not proofread

wc: 900+

since lando was a little kid he always wanted a dog.

since you were a little kid, you also wanted a dog.

and then you started dating. and got a dog.

"lando, for god's sake, how many times have i told you to not leave the leash by the door? i almost tripped!" you yell as you walk into the house back from work.

you and lando started dating 3 years ago and had your not-so-little dog for 2. his name was max - cause lando thought it was the funniest thing to name his dog after his best friend - and he was a huge golden retriever, the cutest you have ever met.

"sorry, love." you hear his muffled voice. when you walk into your room, the scenes strikes you like a bunch of hearts flying at your face.

lando was laying in bed, hugging max and with his head buried in the yellow fur. the dog was looking curiously at the door, waiting for your voice to actually become you.

when max sees you, his tail slaps in lando's leg and he stand up, moving in bed happily.

"hey, big boy." you greet him, caressing his fur and sitting down.

"where's my hi?" lando asks, his arms still plopped in the bed as he look at you.

"hey, big boy." you say again, now running his fingers through lando's hair. he shakes his ass like a tail wagging, for the joke, you laugh loudly. "stop it."

"so, sorry about the leash." he says sitting up. the dog going around you and laying with his head on your lap.

"always, huh?" you tease, almost mad.

"max was eager to drink some water, i can't say no to our only child!" he says in a high-pitched voice.

you push his head, he falls right back in bed and you stand up, resting max's head carefully on the matress.

"you should go take a shower, i'll order something for us, to enjoy or last weekend together." you groan as you remember the triple header coming and the amount of time you'd spent away from each other. "you want something special?"

"sushi?" you try, as always, convincing lando.

"hell no." he frowns, as he always do.

"i'll take some pizza, then." you shrug, walking in the shower.

when you get off, wrapping a towel around yourself, lando is not in the room. as you get dressed he appears, whistling and putting the pizza box down at the side table.

"don't let max get it before we can!" i barely yell, remembering the time lando placed the box on the bed and walked over to me. when we turned back, there was only two or three bites left of the pizza and a very hungry dog looking at us with his doe little eyes.

"sure, ma'am." lando sits down on bed, what gets a grunt from the dog.

you sit on bed, already in your pajamas, getting comfortable while lando puts something on the tv.

you take a piece of the pizza, biting it as max looks at you hopefully. you chuckle at his eyes.

"when did you learn to be like that, man?" you talk to the dog as lando puts one arm around your waist and uses the other one to grab his own piece of pizza.

"he was a good example." you look at your boyfriend as he looks at you with such doe eyes. "you sure you can't go to any race in the next weeks?"

"i can try, but my boss is already eating me alive for absolutely nothing." you roll your eyes and rest against his arm.

"you know you don't have to stay in this job, right?" he starts again as you huff. "i know, i know, you want to be independent! you can be independent working in a job that doens't stress you out that much."

"i like my job, lan." you argue.

"i know you do, but i'm saying that you're always complaining about something when you could just quit and be with me during the weekends." he pouts.

"i'm gonna try and make it out for at least one of the races, 'k?" you rest your head in his shoulder and looks up at him.

"better, yeah." he sighs.

you hear a huff from the end of the bed and turn to see your dog looking at you like a maniac, begging for a bite of your pizza.

"look at his face!" lando exclaims, pointing out.

"max, please." you cry and the door licks his mouth.

"no way your winning, better his give him a bite before he decides to get one by himself."

you have dinner and watch a few episodes of a show you had started weeks ago with lando - and max. as the night finally starts tire you, you let out a few yawns before lando realises it's already pretty late.

"let's have some sleep, babe." he whispers, turning off his side table lamp and getting comfortable with you in his arms.

not a minute goes by before the sound of ruffling sheets is heard and you feel a furred and soft by your feet. when you realise, max is already in the middle of you two, also seeking the comfort lando so desperately wanted.

"max!" he complains as his arms are torned away from your skin.

"let him be." it's the last thing you remember saying before drifting into sleep.

559 notes · View notes

sourbinnie · 1 year ago

Text

☆ interrupted tenderness ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> fluff ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> a member walks in when you're having a moment, how do they react? ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> none ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

maknae line

chan ✉

it wasn't often that you two got caught up in your own little world. you were mostly busy with work and that prevented you sometimes from actually being intimate with him, not really in a sexual way but leaning towards romance. chan really was an incredible boyfriend and supporting him through his journey was one of the best experiences you've ever had the pleasure to be a part of. so when you were in his dressing room as he got ready for his concert, you couldn't help but sigh as you looked at him.

"what's up?" he asked as he got closer to you and grabbed your hands. the sweet gesture of feeling your fingers intertwined. you didn't really know what to say, you were just daydreaming at this point because who wouldn't with a boyfriend like that?

"i just can't help but love you so much." you said as you looked at him eye to eye. you could see the happiness in his smile and then it disappeared as he leaned in for a kiss. you leaned in as well as you closed the gap to meet him and took his lips in yours.

"hyung? are you- i'm sorry, never mind!" jisung said as he opened and closed the door in a second. but then he opened it again to yell. "it's like seeing your parents kiss, never do that again."

the whole time chan couldn't help but look down embarrassed, he couldn't believe his kids' behavior sometimes. he leaned on your shoulder as he hid himself and you couldn't help but laugh the entire time, not feeling any shame at all. your boyfriend might be a shy little embarrassed ball but you loved him just like that.

minho ✉

now he didn't really give a single fuck. he would steal kisses from you in front of the whole world without a care in the world. but sometimes he wished you two would have more private moments where he could actually show you the affection he craved so much to get in return. so when he finally got to be alone in the dorms, he invited you over and you two were laying on the couch just enjoying each other's company. you worked just like that at times where no words were said but it felt better than anything.

"i missed you (y/n)." he said as he got closer to you and laid his head on your lap. you stopped looking at your phone, leaving it to the side to bury your hands on his hair as you messed it up. "if you were anyone else, i would kill you right now."

"luckily it's me!" you said with a little giggle as you moved your hands from his hair to his face. grabbing his cheeks on your hands as you squished them.

"if i did that to hyung, he would slaughter me." seungmin said from the kitchen and he got a death glare from minho. he really thought that the dorms were empty yet here he had one of his members looking at you two just now.

"not a word from you." minho said and seungmin did a gesture like he sealed his lips shut. you couldn't help but laugh at the interaction as you went back to bothering your boyfriend in the nicest way possible, of course. it's not like he could stop you anyways.

changbin ✉

now he wasn't really someone who got embarrassed easily. well at least that's what he liked to think, that he was just shameless especially with you. of course there were certain limits to the things you did in public but he couldn't resist you from time to time and he liked to show you off. you were his precious significant other for a reason and he wouldn't change you for anything. as he tried to come up with lyrics for one of his tracks, you were sitting in his lap and laying your head on his shoulder.

"are you comfortable?" changbin asked and you nodded, you were about to fall asleep at any moment so how could you not be comfortable? still changbin worried. it's like he needed to know all the time how you felt and that was very sweet of him.

"binnie you know we need to go home soon." you said as you kissed his cheek and that made him smile. he still got shy when you showed affection but that made you fall for him a little bit more each time.

"hey bin, are you done with the track? oh! sorry (y/n), didn't see you there." chan said as he got closer and saw you sitting on his member's lap. "i'll just go and we'll talk about it tomorrow changbin."

chan took a few steps back and then left with a little smile on his face. changbin knew that smile, it was more than happiness, he was proud. he truly did find the partner he wanted for the rest of his life and his bandmates knew that, you were a part of the family now and there was no turning back.

hyunjin ✉

he was a sucker for showing his affection and love towards you everywhere. most of the time though he resisted and fought himself to not do it because he was scared that you would get sick of it. obviously you didn't and every chance you got to get closer to him, you would. he would appreciate your little love gestures for him but the displays of love in public would be the ones he remembered the most. like right now, he held you as he hugged you from behind and you felt so safe in his arms.

"thank you for coming by today." he whispered in my ear as you were standing in the set of one of his music videos. you just smiled as you looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes and his words always made your heart melt.

"you don't have to thank me, i always love visiting you." you said as he leaned in for a kiss. you couldn't help but feel yourself lost in the moment as you two kissed, totally forgetting where you were standing.

"hyunjin, (y/n), the children are watching!" felix said as he covered seungmin's eyes with one hand and jeongin's eyes with the other. you couldn't help but break the kiss off as you laughed.

hyunjin was so embarrassed but he didn't care as he met you for another kiss, shameless in his actions. earning a gasp from almost everyone on set but not caring about the eyes that were watching. he loved you so much and he didn't want to be ashamed of showing it anymore.

#sourbinnie #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios #skz drabbles #skz x reader #stray kids drabbles #stray kids x reader #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz #stray kids #hyunjin x reader #chan x reader #changbin x reader #minho x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff

4K notes · View notes

emmylksblog · 4 months ago

Text

SLEEPY CLOSENESS // MARC GUIU

request: Can u do a Marc guiu we’re he’s being really clingy and cute with you in front of his family ?

content: almost cringy fluff

warnings: just overly sleepy marc

words: 1350

a/n: i’m so sorry it took me this long to post but my life got busy and i’m almost never home 😔 be patient with me with your requests i’m not ignoring them just figuring out how to elaborate each of them 🤌🏻

The Guiu family had invited you over for dinner, and you sit with your boyfriend Marc, he sits with his shoulder against you. His parents, as usual, are chatting amongst themselves, as Marc lets out a huge yawn. His head then lolls onto your shoulder, and despite the fact his parents are right there, he wraps an arm around you and snuggles into your shoulder, not caring if they see.

Marc's mom glances over as her son rests his head on your shoulder and his arm over you, then a small smile crosses her face. She clears her throat "Marc, I know you're tired but please try and stay awake while you have a guest over!"

Marc half opens one eye and glances at his mother, before burying his head back into your shoulder. He mumbles quietly “But I’m comfortable here.”

"Please sit up properly at least." His mum says with a sigh. Marc just burrows down further into the crook of your shoulder. He has no intention of moving.

You chuckle to yourself quietly at Marc’s antics, and he looks a bit like a sleepy puppy. His mom shoots you an exasperated look, and you decide to intervene, gently ruffling his hair a bit and giving a reassuring smile. “Baby, your parents are going to think I'm a bad influence on you if you keep falling asleep on me.”

Marc grunts, opening his dark eyes again and peering up at you. “Oh they know you’re a bad influence on me already.” He lets out another yawn and sits up a bit more, though still leaning against you

His mom rolls her eyes but smiles at you. “He’s always like this when he’s tired. A right nightmare when he was a toddler!” Marc shoots her a look, and you grin.

He sighs, not denying it. “Ma eso no es verdad. (that's not true mom)” He mutters quietly, burying his head in the crook of your shoulder again.

He yawns again and lets out a sigh. “And I’m just really tired cause the match today took a lot out of me. We barely won, it was 2-1.”

You nod sympathetically. “That’s fair. Good job on the win by the way.” You say, running your fingers through his hair again.

Marc makes a hum that sound like he's quietly purring, letting out another yawn. His eyes are half closed as he's curled onto you.

His mother chuckles as she watches you stroke her little boy's hair. "You two are adorable." she says affectionately.

As dinner finishes, you both head to the door. Marc is obviously exhausted and looks like he might fall asleep on the way home. His family calls out their goodbyes, and you and Marc reciprocate promising to come back soon.

You steer Marc over to the car since you don't trust him at this point to drive. So you coax him into the passenger seat and fasten his seatbelt, before getting into the car yourself.

He leans his head on the window, eyes closed. At a red light you turn to look at him. "Stay awake a bit longer amor, I love you but I'm not carrying you into our apartment."

He grunts something unintelligible. "Love you too." He mumbles, keeping his head on the window. "But just let me sleep...."

You roll your eyes affectionately and poke his arm to keep him from falling asleep. "We'll be home soon enough, okay? Then you can sleep as much as you like."

You pull up at your shared apartment and climb out of the car, then go the other side to get Marc out.

You're already standing next to the car, trying to coax him out. He's leaning against the seat and doesn't look like he's going anywhere. You roll your eyes, then grin and crouch down next to him. "If you get out the car, I'll give you a kiss."

That seems to get his sleepy mind working, as he opens one eye to look at you. "Promise?"

You nod, and he lets out a huff. "Fine." He grumbles and drags himself out of the car, and you keep your promise by leaning up to kiss him as soon as he's standing upright.

He melts into the kiss, though is still half asleep. After a few moments you pull away, and he blinks sleepily. "I'm sleepy though. Carry me." He demands, opening his arms.

You laugh at his pouty face, shaking your head at him. "Oh yeah, you think I'm gonna carry you all the way to the apartment?" You teased him, wrapping your arms around him instead.

You quickly wriggle out of his arms, a grin on your face as you dart away towards your apartment, laughing all the while.

He gives a small growl, and his competitive nature sparks awake. "Hey!" He calls after you, before giving chase.

You run for the front door, hoping to get to the sanctuary of your apartment before he catches you, but he's quickly on your tail.

He catches up to you and wraps his arms around you from behind, holding you in a tight bear hug. "Thought you could out run a footballer, eh?" He says with a smirk, his chin on your shoulder.

You're doubled over in laughter, and try to catch your breath. "You're- you're a- a damn- cheater. Unfair." you manage between laughs. He grins down at you and holds his hand out for the keys. "No I'm just good at what I do."

You hand over the keys, and he unlocks the door with a flourish. "After you." he says, grandly holding the door open for you.

You roll your eyes affectionately and step past him into the apartment. "Such a gentleman."

As you come out of the bathroom, he's already stripped to his boxers and sitting on the bed waiting for you, looking half asleep again.

He gives a cute yawn and holds his arms out again. "Come here~" he murmurs sleepily.

You roll your eyes affectionately, letting out a laugh. "Baby, you didn't have to wait for me in your boxers. You could've gone straight to sleep."

He pouts and shakes his head. "But then I wouldn't get to see how nice you look before bed." He whines, beckoning you towards him again.

You walk over to the bed and climb up to straddle him, settling yourself in between his legs. He grins up at you sleepily and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you down onto him.

He gives you a warm smile, nuzzling your neck. "Can I get my reward now?" he mumbles, his breath warm against your skin.

You chuckle quietly, running a hand through his hair. "And what reward is that?" You ask, though you already know what he's asking for.

He yawns again but keeps his head on your shoulder, burrowing closer to you. "A goodnight kiss, please?" He says, his voice still soft and sleepy.

You smile at his sleepy request and tilt his chin up towards you, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. He smiles against your lips and kisses you back, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulls you nearer.

The kiss lasts a few moments before you pull back, and he pouts up at you. "Only one?" He asks, his eyes still half closed.

You laugh gently as you pull back, and tease him about the fact that now he's fully awake again with a smirk. "What happened to being tired, hm?"

He huffs playfully and glares up at you, though the effect is spoiled a little by the fact that he's still holding you close against him. "You can't blame me for wanting my goodnight kisses." He defends himself.

You shake your head at his pout and press another kiss against his lips. "There, there you big boy. Goodnight kisses delivered."

He grins and buries his head in your shoulder again. "Goodnight, I love you." He mumbles against your skin.

You run your hand through his hair and smile. "I love you too, you sleepy idiot."

#marc guiu #marc guiu x reader #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #fcb x reader #fc barcelona x reader #fc barcelona #chelsea fc #hector fort

429 notes · View notes

moontyun · 2 months ago

Text

Ateez: The type of...

☆ ateez masterlist ☆ ...partner ☆ requested? no ☆ genre: fluff, attempted humor, slight angst ☆ warning(s): jealousy, mentions of food, mentions of murder(?), mentions of bug death:( ☆ requests are open!

៚ Seonghwa

loves to spend quality time with you

building legos together is what he loved to do best with you

Music played softly in the background, lights were so bright it looked like a surgery suit. He was super focused on the project at hand. His glasses slipping off of his face, as he put the pieces together and read the directions. You sat next to him, putting your own little piece of the set together. It was peaceful, an absolute fun night for the two of you.

៚ Hongjoong

obviously the jealous type

writes you little love songs in his spare time at work

It was late at night, you hadn't expected to stay this late with him at the studio. You were here to drop off his dinner but then he started to ask for your input on some of the things he had been working on. "Okay, I'm going to play you something. It's a bit cheese-y but I want your opinion on it." You agreed as he played the song. Slowly it clicked with you that it was about you. You pouted cutely when it was finished and told him how much you adored it.

៚ Yunho

loves to match with you but in a more show-y way

gets upset when you don't match with him but tries not to show it

Today was your three year anniversary with Yunho. He wanted you to wear matching neon pink t-shirts with flowers all over it. It was the ugliest thing you had ever seen in your life. You had told him you didn't want to wear it because it wasn't up to dress code for where you two were going. His feelings were clearly hurt, but he agreed not to wear it. You cupped his face, "We can wear them to the beach tomorrow when we meet my parents, okay?" His face lit up, clearly okay with it.

៚ Yeosang

packs your lunch, leaving you little notes telling you to have a good day

expects you to call him every day when you get off of work, no matter how late it is for him.

Today, you had the day off. All day you had been lazing around the house, not really doing much of anything. But now, lunch time had come and you were starving. You opened the refrigerator to see a box of tupperware with a little sticky note attached to it. Immediately, you knew Yeosang packed you something to eat. Pulling it out, you read the note. He wished you a good day and that he loved you, as well as to call him while you were eating. He wanted to have lunch with you but couldn't physically be there. He was the absolute best!

៚ San

cuddle bug galore

follows you everywhere you go because he hates being away from you for longer than 10 minutes

"-and so, he told me to kill the bug. I told him hell no!" He had been telling this little story for about five minutes now as you showered with the occasional "mmhmm", "Oh" every couple of minutes to let him know he was being listened to. You were used to him following you everywhere. He was always following you into the bathroom, the store, wherever you were he was there. So him sitting on the toilet, while you showered was not abnormal for the two of you. It was a cute way to show he loved you and wanted to spend all his time with you.

៚ Mingi

you need to reassure him a lot

needs to be cuddled every night before bed

Mingi had been mopey the whole evening. He was laying around, wrapped up in a blanket like a burrito. You having just walked through the apartment door, noticed this. "What's wrong, princess?" you asked, immediately. He didn't say anything but buried himself deeper into the blanket. You waltzed over to him and threw yourself on him, moving the blanket from his face, peppering his face in kisses. "You didn't answer my question earlier." You had to think back, he did text you a question. "Oh! I got busy helping my mom. I'm sorry, baby." He nodded his head, "Just let me know next time please?" he pleaded. You hugged him tighter, "I will, I'm sorry!"

៚ Wooyoung

jealous when someone starts to get too close to you

loves to ramble on and on about his day to you, because he loves having your feed back

You knew this guy had been trying to hit on you all night and you were getting to the point of just throwing a drink in your face. You and Wooyoung kept moving away from him but the guy wouldn't get it. "Should I just kill him? Can I?" You laughed a little. "Let him have it, babe." You said. Wooyoung got close to the guy, "I'm their partner. Get lost." The guy backed off and you hadn't seen him since.

៚ Jongho

always stays on the side closest to the street

protective over you

The first time he did it, it spooked you a little because he switched sides so suddenly. He pushed you to the other side gently, so he could walk along side you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you continued to telling your story. "And so, she was li- I'm sorry, can I ask why you did that?" You asked halting your story. He laughed a little, "Making sure your safe and a car doesn't hit you." Your face flushed, none of your exes had ever done that. Ever since then, he's done it every time you guys were out walking.

#ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fluff #ateez smau #ateez #choi jungho #jung wooyoung #song mingi #choi san #kang yeosang #jeong yunho #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez tarot

313 notes · View notes

evangelical04 · 6 months ago

Text

A Single Daffodil || 4

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 12.5K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut, body image issues

Author's Note: sorry this is being posted almost a month later! i was on a road trip with my friends but I wanted to get this out before my birthday (it's on the 17th eek!!) but I hope you guys like it! as usual, please tell me what you guys think! i'd love to hear your opinions <33 also I'm sorry if this chapter seems kinda boring, but the next one is gonna have some drama!! oooo

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @weareatthebadlands @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @praetae @sylviamuela

previous / masterlist / next

Waking up in an unfamiliar room was jarring, initially. It took you a couple of rounds of rubbing your eyes to realize that you were no longer in your cozy two-bedroom apartment with soft lighting and warm-colored pillows. You awoke to harsh sunlight hitting your face, blank walls, and beige furniture. You leaned back against the light brown headboard of your bed and ran your hands through your messy tangles of hair, having forgone brushing it out the previous night. Glancing at your phone beside you, you noted the time being only a bit past nine.

You needed tea, warm tea.

You shuffled out of bed, feeling the cold air nip at your bare legs, but you couldn’t find the motivation to change into warm clothing. You tied your hair into a messy ponytail, deciding to attend to it later, and exited your room, facing the cold and unfriendly hallway. There was a faint sound of quiet jazz from the kitchen, likely Mrs. Lim, and you descended the stairs. As you reached the bottom, you groaned internally, lamenting the fact that your favorite teas were still in your apartment.

Rounding the corner into view of the kitchen had you stopping in your tracks. Yoongi was sat atop one of the counter stools, peacefully scrolling on his phone in the same clothes you’d seen him in last night during your discussion. The unexpected sight had you stumbling backwards, bumping into the large recliner that sat behind you. The sound alerted him to your presence, his eyes turning to find your form.

“Um, hi,” you stuttered, “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

Yoongi hummed, eyes trailing up and down your figure, mouth upturned. You shifted your weight onto the other foot, feeling uncomfortable, before crossing your arms over your chest. You shouldn’t be this comfortable to walk around braless yet, you internally scolded.

“Well, it is the weekend,” Yoongi mused, still not taking his eyes off your chilled form. You laughed awkwardly, nodding, “Yeah, I suppose it is, isn’t it? I’ll be right back, actually, I forgot my phone upstairs.”

You didn’t wait to see his response before turning around and rushing back up the stairs. Reaching your room and closing the door behind you, you breathed heavily. What was that? You buried your head in your hands, sliding down the door to sit with your knees pulled to your chest, you should’ve expected him in his own goddamn house. Your cheeks burned at the memory of his eyes tracing your silhouette. How embarrassing. You wallowed in your self-pity a bit longer before rising and entering your large closet.

You picked out a simple cropped grey sweatshirt and black sweatpants, not finding a need to appear any more formal. You wanted to appear casual after the embarrassing display you started the morning off with. Plus, if Yoongi said this marriage meant nothing, you could walk around his house in loungewear. As long as your mother didn’t find out.

The thick cotton felt much more comfortable and warm, considering the slightly chilly air in the house. Yoongi must like it to be a bit colder, you thought absently. As you finished your morning routine, brushing your teeth and combing through your hair, making sure to pat on some moisturizer and acne treatment, your thoughts wandered back to seeing Yoongi earlier.

The way he had been looking at you was strange, much like Hoseok had mentioned. You weren’t dense, you knew the intention hidden behind a gaze like that, you’d been on the giving and receiving end before. What had you so puzzled was why Yoongi would be looking at you like that. Wasn’t he the one to draw such a clear line between you two?

Aside from the reason as to why he would be tracing the edges of your curves with his eyes was the effect that it had on you. Frustratingly, Yoongi’s hungry gaze sent warmth through your veins, and excitement pooled in your stomach. It was an embarrassing response, considering how he’d treated you before. At the same time, it felt expected. You had been pining after this man for so long and now he was showing the slightest bit of reciprocation, albeit, with more physical intentions than you. It only felt natural that it would leave you giddy with warm cheeks. It made you happy to think that Yoongi could be seeing you in a similar light.

Your dizzy smile faded as you looked in the mirror at your flushed face. What were you doing? The last eight months had been spent trying to drill into yourself that Yoongi would never like you that way because you couldn’t afford to get your hopes up. Why were you entertaining the idea again after one sultry stare? You felt pathetic, you had folded so easily as you always did when it came to him.

Smacking your cheeks a couple of times, you readied yourself to head back downstairs. He was just a man, no matter how attractive. Descending the stairs once more, you noticed Yoongi had moved to the couch, leaning back with his coffee on the table next to him, scrolling away on his phone. He hadn’t noticed your reentrance just yet and you awkwardly hovered by the edge of the couch, trying to get his attention.

Awkwardly clearing your throat did the trick and his gaze turned toward you, an eyebrow raised at your changed appearance.

“Do you, um, do you have any tea,” you mumbled out, avoiding his intense stare. You heard him hum, likely considering his kitchen inventory, before answering, “Sorry, no, just coffee. Would you like me to order some? There’s also coffee and juice if you want that instead.”

You quickly shook your head at his offer of ordering tea, “That’s fine, I’ll just have some warm water, thanks,” and quickly made your way into the kitchen, reaching the fridge. The metal box was massive, towering over you and quite wide, with a sleek, silver finish. There were no magnets or pictures adorning the exterior, though. Pulling it open, your eyes raked over the full contents, spotting a pitcher of what seemed like orange juice, but no Britta Filter or something of the like. Glancing at the sink, you noticed a second spout seemingly for filtered water. Shrugging, you supposed that Yoongi would be able to afford that and not have to have a water filter jug.

Next, you hunted for a kettle, which wasn’t too difficult to find, placed in a corner of the countertop. You took it out, setting it on the counter next to an outlet, but soon realized you had no idea where the cups were. The sheer amount of cupboards was overwhelming and you had no idea where to start looking, never mind the embarrassment of rifling through the kitchen in front of Yoongi.

Opening up cabinets as quietly as possible was not the easiest task when you could so heavily feel Yoongi’s presence in the living room. The anxiety in your chest built as you couldn’t tell whether or not he was watching you struggle to find a single mug. Coming to another cabinet above you, you opened it, spotting a mug or two on the edge of the top shelf portion. Just your luck. You hadn’t spotted a step stool anywhere and you were far too embarrassed already to climb on top of the counter to reach it. Your arm stretched out as you stood on your toes, fingers grasping at the edge of the shelf before you felt warmth envelop your back.

Freezing in place, you quickly identified Yoongi behind you, evidently assisting you in reaching the mugs. He didn’t seem quite tall enough either, you deduced, because he lifted his heels slightly, pushing further into you. Your breath stuttered and you almost had to brace yourself against the counter, you hadn’t really been this close to him before. You could feel his warm breath against the top of your hair, making your nape break out into goosebumps.

His fingers finally curled around the handle of the mug and he set his feet fully on the ground, but not moving away from you. You turned to face him, steadying your hands by grasping the edge of the countertop and lifted your head to look at him.

“Um, thank you,” you stuttered, unable to make full eye contact, instead opting for looking straight at his ear. He was too close and you couldn’t handle it. His other hand rested on the countertop, just beside yours, and his face was only inches away. How were you supposed to focus? Your gaze only lowered further, making your head turn slightly away. There was a second or two of just silence.

“No problem,” he responded bluntly, moving away and placing the mug down on the other counter that sat in the middle of the kitchen. You let out a heavy breath, finally being able to breathe something in other than Yoongi’s subtle cologne. Resisting the urge to question his sudden close proximity, you instead opted for, “Would you like some as well?

Yoongi only raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the living room where his coffee mug sat waiting. Your mouth clamped shut and you stuttered a nod, “Right, well I’ll just, um, finish doing this.”

God, could you be any more awkward?

Yoongi simply nodded and walked back to the living room, leaving you in the kitchen with warm cheeks and many regrets. You went through the motions of filling the kettle and starting it, waiting for it to boil before pouring it into the mug. The warm water was at least comforting in the chilly atmosphere, despite having no flavor. You stood in the kitchen, unsure of where you should go. Should you join Yoongi in the living room or go back to your room? Or should you stay in the kitchen? Nothing in your life had prepared you for the social expectations in a situation like this.

You decided on your room, not wanting to spend more time in Yoongi’s presence after the embarrassing display in the kitchen. As you made your way to the stairs, walking past Yoongi’s form on the couch, he called out to you.

“Y/N, can you sit for a moment?”

You turned towards him and nervously nodded, taking a seat on the same loveseat as the night prior. It was quite comfortable even though you had been the epitome of uncomfortable each time you’d sat in it so far. You looked up at Yoongi, silently gesturing for him to continue.

“Some of my friends are coming over tonight, the same that made up my groomsmen. If you don’t mind, are you able to stay in your room?”

“Oh, sure,” you nodded, that was all? You were nervous for nothing.

“Thanks,” Yoongi almost smiled at you, “They’ll be here around seven.”

“Sounds good,” you said while standing up, you couldn’t get out of there quickly enough. In your rush to get back to your room, you didn’t notice Yoongi’s gaze lingering on your retreating form.

Closing your bedroom door behind you, you breathed a sigh of relief. What a day, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Adjusting to life with Yoongi was definitely going to be a learning curve.

Since you were off work for the next two weeks, you weren’t exactly sure what to do with your time. You couldn’t exactly relax in the living room and watch a movie, not with your husband occupying the couch. Things certainly felt stifled in Yoongi’s home. His presence was overwhelming and nerve-wracking, you couldn’t relax around him at all. The earlier interaction in the kitchen still weighed on your mind.

Why did he get so close to you? Wasn’t he the one who proposed that the two of you stay as far apart as possible? Maybe he didn’t see his closeness to you as something that went against that principle. You sighed. It felt impossible to read him or know what he was thinking at all. His impassive expressions and ambivalent demeanor were starting to get to you.

Even though you’d resolved to take on an emotionally removed approach like him, you still craved some sort of transparency in his confusing actions that stirred mixed emotions within you. Some of the things he was doing would point towards him harboring some sort of affection toward you but he had been so adamant in keeping your lives separated. What you needed was a clear message from him about how he felt and actions that aligned with that.

Not that you thought that was going to happen.

After setting your mug down on your bedside table, you collapsed onto the soft comforters of your bed. The ceiling above you was plain unlike the one in your apartment and you found yourself missing the nights of tracing along the popcorn pattern in your warm and comfy bed. Speaking of your apartment though, you thought, you should probably check in on how Hoseok’s doing.

You patted your hand around for your phone, finding it beside you, and dialed Hoseok’s number, setting it to speaker and letting the phone sit beside your head. It only rang twice before he answered.

“Well, hello Mrs. Min,” came his teasing voice.

You groaned, kicking your legs up in the air, “Shut up, don’t remind me.”

“Aren’t you living the dream, though? Married to your long-time crush?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, recalling your husband’s cold and calculating exterior.

“Well, what’s up, how’s the first morning? Are you sore,” Hoseok questioned, you could hear him shuffling around, likely lying down on the bed himself.

“I guess? My calves are kind of sore, those heels fucking hurt after the first hour,” you responded, massaging your aching feet.

“No,” Hoseok laughed, “Are you sore from your consummation? Tell me how it was!”

“Gross,” you exclaimed, sitting up on the bed incredulously, “We did not have sex! I can barely look at him for fuck’s sake, how am I supposed to sleep with him?”

“That’s your fault for not taking advantage of the situation,” he hummed on the other end, “The opportunity was right there.”

“Dude, c’mon, he can barely stand me. We wouldn’t have been sleeping together even if I could look him in the eye.”

“You’ll get there,” Hoseok chimed optimistically, making you desperately want to change the subject.

“How’s your apartment hunting going,” you asked, grasping at any other topic you could.

“Smooth,” he laughed but acquiesced and answered your question, “Good, I think. I’ve got a couple of showings in a few days that seem promising. Rent here is way more expensive than Busan though.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “Tell me about it. I don’t know how Yoongi affords this place.”

“He probably owns it.”

“Damn, you’re probably right. Should a peasant like me even be allowed in here,” you half-joked.

Hoseok only scoffed in response, “As if you’re not literally the daughter of chaebols.”

You hummed, nodding, “Touche.”

“Oh, I did talk to my old boss and he said there was an old student of his in Seoul who was also looking to open up a dance studio. Apparently, he’s just finishing up his MBA so I’m going to talk to him and see if he wants to become partners,” Hoseok excitedly detailed.

“That’s so cool! I’m sure he’ll say yes,” you responded happily. Hoseok deserved to succeed after how hard he’d worked and if this other guy knew anything, he’d say yes to Hoseok in a heartbeat.

“How is everything else,” Hoseok asked, prompting you to sigh.

“It’s fine, I guess,” you said tiredly, wondering if you should divulge what had happened during the wedding and this morning.

“Tell me about it,” he said quietly, encouraging you.

“Alright,” you huffed, settling in for the long haul of recounting the previous day and the conversation when you’d gotten to Yoongi’s penthouse. You finished by detailing the events this morning and the fact that his friends were coming over later.

Hoseok listened diligently, making sure to have the appropriate reactions at the right moments. When you finished retelling the events of that morning, Hoseok laughed, “How cliche. This really feels like your own movie romance.”

You shook your head, laughing along, “I guess it was pretty cliche. Everything feels so cliche with him, like the first time I’m falling in love as a teenager or something. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing to like someone, Y/N,” Hoseok says, changing his tone to be a bit softer, “Having a crush isn’t all that immature, it’s the way you act on it that can be.”

“You’re surprisingly profound,” you joked, but you knew he had a point. You had been beating yourself up about feeling anything for Yoongi and feeling embarrassed whenever you became flustered. It felt childish and you hated feeling so vulnerable and disadvantaged.

“Well, I have my moments,” Hoseok chuckled, “But seriously, don’t be so hard on yourself. Let yourself feel and then choose how to deal with it. If that means moving on, then do that, slowly. And it’s okay if it means keeping the feelings, as long as you're not hurting yourself or anyone else.”

“Thanks, Hobi,” you smiled, he really did have his moments.

“Anytime, Y/N-ie,” Hoseok responded fondly, making you smile widen at the affectionate nickname.

“But I do have to go now. I’ve got some calls to make about my old apartment. They’re trying to keep my deposit,” he huffed.

“Yikes, good luck with that, let me know how it goes,” you give him a sweet goodbye before hanging up. The conversation with Hoseok had cleared your head some, leaving you wondering what your next move should be. You promptly decided on a nap.

After a few hours, you awoke, stretching in your bed, feeling slightly groggy, but well rested. Your head felt clearer than ever and you actually felt ready to live in this penthouse.

Sitting up, you took a look around your room before sighing. The beiges and whites were really starting to get to you. You dragged yourself out of your bed and towards your bag from the previous night. After digging around for a moment, you triumphantly located your laptop and its charger, plugging it into the outlet near your desk. Booting up your laptop only took a few moments but you occupied yourself by making a mental list of the decorations you wanted to purchase or bring from your own apartment. After logging in, you dejectedly realized you weren’t connected to the wifi.

You should’ve asked Mrs. Lim for the wifi password, you thought scornfully, why had you been so careless. Now you had to ask Yoongi. Your mission of avoiding him at all costs was going poorly.

Reaching for your phone, you opted instead to text him to minimize the interaction, feeling proud of your solution.

You:

Hi Yoongi-ssi, would you mind giving me the wifi password, please?

You quickly set your phone face down on the desk, dreading the reply. What if he thought you were an idiot? What if he didn’t give it to you and you had to use a hotspot for the rest of your life and spend hundreds on your data charges?

Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted by your phone vibrating against the desk’s surface.

Yoongi:

Sure. It’s worldwidehandsomesvacationhome. No capitals.

You let out a confused chuckle, what a weird name. You had a nagging feeling that Kim Seokjin had something to do with it.

You:

Thank you. Have fun with your friends.

You threw your phone against the desk and launched yourself into your bed. Was that too much? Oh god, what if you had royally messed up and crossed a boundary? You stayed in your bed for a few minutes before rising, noting that your phone hadn’t vibrated with a response. Hesitantly approaching your phone, you turned it over to see a blank screen with no notifications. You checked the message thread to see it the same as you left it except that you had been left on read.

Well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.

You shrugged and retook your seat at your desk, entering the wifi password on your laptop and phone. Finding a successful connection, you spent the next few hours browsing through online stores for fun decorations and decals for your room and office in the penthouse. The search took your full attention and you bought multiple items, saving a few of the more expensive purchases for other credit cycles. At the end of it all, you’d bought multiple pillows, a throw blanket, some cute decoration trinkets off of Etsy, a couple of cute flower lamps, a comfy-looking lounge chair, and some lilac curtains. Decorating your room in some fun colors and trinkets would make it feel more like home, or at least, that’s what you hoped.

Sitting on the desk next to your laptop was a small notebook that held a list of the items you planned to purchase, mainly a TV for your room so you could watch movies and use your console, a larger and cuter desk, and a comfier desk chair, as well as transferring a number of other items from your apartment like your plants, books, and other decorations.

Coming out of your reverie, you noticed that the time had passed quickly, being a little after seven, and your stomach grumbled, reminding you of your forgetting to eat lunch. Cooking in the kitchen wasn’t an option, noting the laughter downstairs likely meaning that Yoongi’s friends had arrived already, and you didn’t know what ingredients were there anyway, or if you were allowed to use them.

Sighing, you instead decided to order delivery. You browsed through the local restaurants before settling on a fried chicken restaurant that you frequented that had a location close to your apartment and another near Yoongi’s. Selecting your usual order, you almost checked out before realizing that you were about to order it to your apartment. Grinning, you imagined Hoseok opening your door to a crispy chicken delivery and having no second thoughts about eating your food.

You couldn’t remember Yoongi’s address, so you resorted to looking at your maps app to figure it out, and your previous texts with Mrs. Lim for the internal building directions. A rush of content flowed through you as you placed the order, eagerly awaiting your hearty meal.

To pass the time, you grabbed your Switch, loading in whatever game you had been playing previously, some indie puzzle game. You settled into the relaxing and cute gameplay and drowned out the noise of Yoongi’s friends further into the penthouse.

After a while, your phone vibrated with the notification that the delivery was here, and you jumped up, eager to receive your food. Quickly opening your door, you entered the hallway to make your way to the stairs before hesitating. You could hear Kim Seokjin’s signature laugh in the living room.

Oh, that’s right, Yoongi didn’t want you to come down.

You tittered around the banister, unsure of whether you should go down before you felt your phone buzz with the driver asking where you were.

Ah, fuck it.

You quickly descended the stairs and tried to discreetly go through the back end of the living room to avoid Yoongi’s group drinking and playing some sort of game on the coffee table. Of course, you were unsuccessful, spotted by Seokjin immediately.

“Yah, Seo Y/N,” he shouted, pointing at you, clearly quite drunk already.

You froze in place, turning toward him and sending him a shy wave.

“Why are you over there,” Seokjin slurred, “Come join us! You need to drink!”

You began shaking your head before you were interrupted.

“Noona!”

Jeongguk’s bright voice and wide smile brought a smile to your own face, and you mouthed a small hello in his direction.

“Come join us, noona, please,” Jeongguk pleaded, shooting lethal doe eyes in your direction. Your heart melted and you almost agreed, but you felt your phone buzz in your pocket again, making you restart your steps toward the door, “Sorry, Jeongguk-ah, I just came down to get my delivery.”

You ignored his and Seokjin’s protests to open the door and pay the driver, leaving an extra tip for the wait they endured, and taking the food.

“Woah, is that fried chicken,” you heard from over your shoulder, turning to see Jeongguk suddenly there, eyeing your takeout bag. You chuckled, nodding, before beginning your trek back to the stairs.

“C’mon Y/N-ah, join us, Yoongi doesn’t mind,” Seokjin attempted once more and you took the moment to search out his face. Yoongi was sitting in the loveseat you had earlier, eyes resting on you in an unreadable expression. Taehyung was on the floor where Jeongguk was previously and Namjoon was on the couch with Seokjin. Yoongi’s stern expression seemed out of place among the group of happy and buzzed faces and it only made you feel worse.

“Sorry, oppa, I think I’m just gonna head up. I’m kind of tired,” you responded, shying away from Jeongguk’s insistent touch and multiple attempts to snag a piece of chicken.

“You’re so boring, Y/N, you’ll need to join us soon enough, so why not now,” Seokjin slurred, body swinging to lean on the other end of the couch. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Yoongi open his mouth to say something but was beaten by Namjoon.

“Let her be, hyung, you can’t force her,” Namjoon smacked Seokjin’s shoulder before sending you a kind smile and gesturing towards the stairs.

You shot him a grateful smile before ascending, deliberately avoiding Yoongi’s icy stare. Seokjin’s cries faded into the background as you quickly climbed the stairs and reached your room.

Closing the door behind you, a sigh escaped your mouth. How stressful. You hoped that Yoongi wasn’t upset with you for interrupting, you were just quite hungry. You set the bag down on your desk, mouth salivating at the pleasant aroma. You could almost say the intense encounter was worth the heavenly bite of fried chicken you took.

The next week went by rather smoothly, mainly because you had barely seen Yoongi at all. He hadn’t come out of his room much the following day after his friends had come and then resumed work afterward with the week starting up once more. You relished the opportunity to set up your room and office in a style more akin to yours and filled the rooms with plants and flowers you adored.

Mrs. Lim had been happy to help you set up your rooms, citing boredom from the countless greys and blacks that Yoongi’s decor tended to lean towards. You had developed a close bond with her in the week since your arrival in the penthouse and she was a comforting presence in the face of Yoongi’s frosty exterior.

“Ms. Seo, I think your TV is here!”

You sat up from the intense building of your desk, wiping a line of sweat from your forehead. All of the moving around and lifting had you quite warm and you had changed into a loose crop top and shorts. While the work wasn’t necessarily difficult, it was tedious to do alone but you didn’t have much of a choice. You couldn’t ask Mrs. Lim with her bad back to crouch and bend to help you put it together, Joohee was going out to a work dinner with her colleagues, and Hoseok was off to another apartment showing. Unfortunately, you couldn’t figure out anyone else you could call on a Friday evening to help.

“Coming,” you shouted down to Mrs. Lim and rose to your feet, having to lean slightly against the wall. You took a glance at the TV stand you had already snagged second-hand from Joohee after she had decided to mount hers and confirmed it was in the spot you wanted. Heading down the stairs to the living room, you noted Mrs. Lim’s conflicted stance, hands on her hips.

“What’s wrong,” you questioned, rounding the corner of the couch to see the large box the TV had arrived in. The box was quite large and seemed to be rather heavy, which would make it extremely difficult to carry up the stairs by yourself. Immediately, you knew this was going to be an issue because you couldn’t ask Mrs. Lim for help. You’d managed thus far, with your desk arriving in multiple boxes that were more lightweight, your chair being fairly easy to drag up the stairs, and Joohee helping with the TV stand. Crossing your arms, you studied the box before wrapping your hands underneath to test the weight.

It lifted slightly, but you soon had to release it, the edge slipping from your fingers. There was no way you’d be able to get this up on your own.

“Don’t try it by yourself, dear,” Mrs. Lim soothed, “You’ll hurt your back and end up just like me.”

You chuckled, brushing the hair out of your face once again, “Yeah, at least one of us needs to be able to reach the bottom shelf in the kitchen.”

Mrs. Lim playfully smacked your shoulder, “What happened to respecting your elders? You’re quite warm though, would you like some cold water?”

You nodded appreciatively, “Yes, please. Thank you!”

Mrs. Lim waved you off as she walked into the kitchen. Turning towards the box, you huffed, staring it down. What should you do?

Suddenly, you heard the door unlock and it popped open, hitting the box in the process, stopping it from opening fully.

“Mrs. Lim,” came Yoongi’s voice, “Is there something in the doorway?”

“Oh, my bad,” you exclaimed, quickly bending to push the box out of the way. After you’d pushed it aside, you stood to greet Yoongi.

He was running a hand through his hair, staring at the box before his eyes trailed to you and up your legs to your face. You felt your cheeks heat before sending him a small bow and nod.

“What’s all this,” he questioned.

“I’m just getting some stuff for my room, sorry for all the trouble,” you wrung your hands together nervously.

Yoongi shook his head and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Mrs. Lim arriving with your water, “Oh, Mr. Min, you’re home!” Handing you the glass, she continued, “Ms. Seo was just trying to figure out how to bring this box up to her room. It’s much too big for just her to handle and I can’t help because of my back. So unfortunate, isn’t it?”

You cringed internally, taking a sip of water to give yourself something to do. Yoongi only nodded, looking at you once more before moving out of the doorway. He started towards the stairs, leaving you breathing out in relief and gulping down more water.

Just as he began climbing the steps to his room, he turned and faced your form, “Give me a couple minutes to change and I can help you bring that to your room.”

You almost choked on your water as you stumbled through a nod, surprised at Yoongi’s offer to help. He didn’t spare you another glance as he retreated to his room and you were left standing cluelessly as Mrs. Lim sent you a sly smile.

“Well, I’ll just leave you to it. Your dinner is already prepped, there’s japchae and banchan to cool you down. It’s just about time for me to head home anyway,” Mrs. Lim said, clapping her hands together and starting to untie her apron.

You pounced, stopping her hands from undoing the knot, “Mrs. Lim, maybe you can join us for dinner?” You were desperate in your attempt to not be left alone with Yoongi, looking up at Mrs. Lim with pleading eyes.

She only chuckled, gently removing your hands and finishing releasing the knot, her apron falling loose around her front, “Use this as an opportunity to get to know him better. I promise Mr. Min is a nice, young man.”

You almost scoffed, everyone seemed to be trying to convince you of that except for Yoongi himself.

Mrs. Lim put her apron away and gave your cheek a gentle pinch before opening the door, “Besides, I have a dinner date with Mr. Lim. Good luck!” She closed the door behind her and you were left wondering how to navigate the upcoming interaction. Yoongi didn’t give you much time to prepare, appearing at the top of the stairs only seconds after Mrs. Lim’s exit. He was now dressed in a casual grey t-shirt and black sweats, posing a stunning contrast to his earlier neat and tailored suit.

“Where did Mrs. Lim go,” he asked, starting his descent to the living room.

“Um, she left to go home. She said there was dinner already prepped and she had to have dinner with her husband,” you answered awkwardly, avoiding his intense gaze.

Yoongi simply nodded, “That’s fine. Shall we get started, then?”

You nodded, rushing to one end of the box as Yoongi took his place at the other.

“I’ll walk backward, so just let me know when I’ve gotten to the stairs,” he said, making you nod in response, finding it difficult to speak. You both lifted, the box becoming much easier to carry with two pairs of hands.

You kept your gaze firmly trained on the view behind Yoongi, refusing to make eye contact. You were nervous it’d make your grip slip. Warning Yoongi when you had reached the stairs, the rest of the trip had been fairly easy, quietly giving him directions to your room. Thankfully, your door was open and the two of you entered, setting the box down and breathing slightly heavily.

You looked up to express your gratitude to Yoongi but found him looking around your room instead. You supposed it would be his first time in here since you’d arrived. It had changed quite drastically since you had moved in, sporting much more color and silly accessories. Your bed now had a lilac comforter and a white throw blanket, along with multiple cute, fuzzy throw pillows in fun shapes like clouds or mushrooms. The lounge chair had been set up in the corner with a few other pillows and Pokemon plushes you already had. The lilac curtains you ordered had already been set up, currently open to let some light into the room. A few of your favorite tote bags sat hanging on a hook you’d stuck on by the entrance and there were small crocheted and artsy trinkets plastered or hung around the room. Taking a look around it now, for the first time, your aesthetic felt silly and childish in comparison to Yoongi’s sleek, grown-up look.

“Um,” you started, wanting to take Yoongi’s gaze off of your colorful and immature decorations, “Thank you for, ah, helping out.”

Yoongi’s head turned toward you, finding your worried face, biting your lip.

“No problem,” he responded, “I like your room.”

You looked up at him questioningly, not expecting such a response. You had assumed he would think of it as childish and express his distaste, or just ignore it altogether.

“It’s cute.”

You felt your lips part in surprise at his seemingly earnest reaction to your newly decorated room. It made you feel a bit guilty for assuming he wouldn’t like it before. Furthermore, describing it as ‘cute’ seemed so unlike him. You weren’t sure how to respond. Smiling awkwardly, you nodded, “Thanks, I’m glad you like it.”

You’re glad he likes it? What kind of response is that? You groaned internally, now it seemed like you were pining for his validation. Why couldn’t the ground just swallow you whole?

Yoongi hummed in response before dusting off his hands on his sweats, “Would you like to have dinner then?”

You looked at him in slight shock. The two of you hadn’t had a meal together since you’d moved in, yet here he was offering as if it was a normal occurrence for you.

“Unless you’re eating later,” Yoongi’s eyebrow raised at your delayed response.

Quickly, you shook your head, “No, no. I’d love to have dinner now.”

Way to sound over-eager.

The both of you made your way downstairs, unpacking the meal that Mrs. Lim had prepared for you. The cold noodles felt soothing to your overheating body and Mrs. Lim’s kimchi was the perfect balance of fresh and sour. She had even made cucumber kimchi, one of your favorites as she’d learned in the past week, which you happily devoured. While the food was delicious, the atmosphere surrounding the dinner table was awkward. The meal was largely silent, save for the sounds of eating and happy tummies. Distantly, you wondered which of the two of you was going to be the one to break the silence. Surprisingly, it turned out to be Yoongi.

“Were you told about the gala tomorrow evening?”

You nodded, your mother had called you a few days ago to notify you of it. That hadn’t been a fun phone call. She’d made sure to tell you exactly what she expected you to wear and how to act around Yoongi during the gala. You were just relieved that it started at eight, there was an art gallery that you had been wanting to check out that opened at three.

“We’ll go together, we’ll leave at 7:45, does that sound good,” Yoongi asked, glancing at his phone between bites of japchae. You only nodded, trying to map out your schedule for the next day so that you could go to the art gallery and still have enough time to get ready.

“Alright then, that’s settled,” Yoongi stated, taking his last bites of food.

“Oh, wait,” you interjected, remembering your conversation with your mother, “Do you have a dark blue tie?”

Yoongi’s eyebrow raised, “Yes, I believe so. Why?”

Your cheeks heated, “My mother wanted your tie to match my dress. Sorry.” It was quite embarrassing and your mother had not listened to reason. Apparently, she wanted to solidify the image of you two as a couple at this gala, despite the fact that the only people who matched dresses and ties were high school kids going to dances.

Yoongi nodded, picking up his phone and rising from the table, “That’s fine. I’ll be sure to wear that tie then.” With that, he exited the dining room and headed upstairs, with you catching a glimpse of him entering his upstairs office.

Sitting back in your chair, you groaned audibly. Could you get through a single day without making yourself look like a fool in front of Yoongi? You flailed slightly in a mini tantrum at the day’s events before gazing at your plate. Opting for more food, you shoveled it into your mouth in an attempt to soothe your aching ego. After finishing admittedly more than a couple of servings worth, you gathered both yours and Yoongi’s plates and put them in the dishwasher. You filled up your water bottle before climbing the stairs to your room.

You wanted nothing more than to collapse in your bed but your unfinished desk lying in pieces on the floor was weighing on you, in addition to the large TV box that sat inconveniently in the middle of your room. Sighing, you dropped down into a cross-legged position beside the mess of wooden planks and screws and continued putting together the desk, not looking forward to the long night ahead.

At least you had the gallery tomorrow to look forward to.

When you awoke the next morning, it was just past eleven. The bedsheets were crumpled around you and your hair was a tangled mess, but your desk and TV were set up prettily. You must’ve worked late into the night because you didn’t remember getting into bed, much less finishing the desk or setting up the TV. You still had to attach your console and Blu-ray player anyway.

Blearily, you pulled yourself out of bed, stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Your eyes were barely open so you didn’t notice the way your cropped shirt had slipped down your shoulder with its wide neck, nor Yoongi sitting on the couch with a coffee mug in his hand. You squinted through the cupboard to find your favorite mug and picked it out, grabbing the lavender-infused tea that was a regular of yours before setting the kettle to boil. As you waited for the water to boil, you rubbed your eyes awake, finally noticing Yoongi staring at you from the couch.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you bowed slightly, “I didn’t see you there. Good morning.”

Yoongi only nodded, raising his coffee mug to you before returning his gaze to his phone. You were still too tired to feel much embarrassment so you only shrugged and turned back to the kettle. Surprisingly, Yoongi wasn’t done interacting with you, startling you to face him.

“Do you have any plans for before the gala?”

“Yes, I’m going to an art show nearby. But I’ll be back in time to get ready,” you rushed to answer.

Yoongi took a sip of his coffee, his eyebrows raised and eyes staring into you from behind the rim of the cup.

“Oh, sorry, I would ask you to come along but it’s a ticketed event and they’re sold out,” you stuttered, figuring that was why he was still looking at you questioningly.

Yoongi set his mug down, eyes flickering over your form, “I wasn’t planning on going anyway.”

“Ah, right,” you awkwardly said, internally scolding yourself for the embarrassing display.

Of course, he wasn’t asking to go with you, how dense could you be?

Your body felt hot with humiliation and you willed the water to boil faster. Somehow, the gods answered you and the kettle went off, making you rush to pour out the water into your mug. You opted to let it steep in your room, ready to get out of the shared space where Yoongi’s judgemental gaze lay.

Nodding a quick goodbye, you rushed up the steps and entered the oasis of your room. You set down your mug on your desk, letting it steep, and entered your closet to pick out an outfit for the gallery. You ended up choosing a short, brown, corduroy dress to layer over a collared white blouse, feeling quite cute in the outfit. You set the clothes aside, sitting down to drink your tea while reading a bit more of the fantasy book you’d recently picked up. You had made sure to note down your wide collection of books to be part of the things you brought from your apartment. You hadn’t managed to fit everything, but you had brought a significant portion of your favorites and ones you were currently reading.

Once you finished your tea, you set your book aside and began to ready yourself for a shower. After brushing through your hair and grabbing some undergarments, you entered the shower, making sure to take your time and shave for both your dress now and later tonight. The shower was warm and soothing, relaxing your body underneath the steaming stream of water.

After exiting, you did your normal post-shower routine of moisturizing, making sure to add a little extra care to your face. Not for any reason, in particular, you told yourself, just to feel a little pretty. After finishing, you donned your dress and blouse, adding shorts underneath just in case, and began styling your hair. It didn’t need too much as you decided to leave it open, parting it slightly to one side and ruffling it a bit to give it some volume. You finished off with some light makeup and simple gold jewelry, satisfied with your final look. You didn’t get dressed up too often, but you liked doing it for events like galleries, partly for the pictures but mostly just to feel cute.

You snapped a quick picture of your finished look in the mirror in your closet and sent it to the group chat you had with Joohee and Hoseok.

To: Milf Club (est. 2014)

You:

image attached

art gallery fit 💪

Hoebi:

you look like my wife

*future wife

Joo-nie:

omgg step on me queen

so when are you attending the met gala 🤨

You:

omfg it’s just a dress you guys

also i better see you at the gala tonight joo

bring hobi as your date

Joo-nie:

ew no

you can bring him as yours tho

You:

i have a literal husband who’s my date

Hoebi:

girls girls, don’t fight there’s enough hobi to go around

Joo-nie:

die

You:

nevermind, you can stay home

Hoebi:

you guys are so mean 😭

i was planning on touring a potential studio space anyway so go have fun being rich

Joo-nie:

omg good luck! let us know how it goes!

You:

yes def do

i’ll see you tonight joo

Glancing at your watch, you noted the time being around 2:30. It gave you enough time to stop by a cafe by the art gallery to grab a snack since you hadn’t eaten yet. You opted for your crocheted tote bag, not really caring about it making the look more casual, and stuffed your phone, wallet, and a small water bottle inside. You were planning on walking to the gallery so you didn’t need to bring your keys. Lastly, you pulled on some socks and headed downstairs.

Yoongi was still sitting on the couch and you felt his eyes follow your form walking to the door. As you slipped on your shoes, he called out to you, “Going to the gallery?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Yoongi nodded in response, still looking at you, “You, uh,”

You stood fully, finished with your shoes, and looked at him to continue.

“See you then,” he finished, leaving you slightly confused at his odd demeanor but smiling politely nonetheless. Just as you opened the door and began to exit, you heard his voice once more.

“Have fun.”

You turned to face him, sending him a genuine smile, “Thanks, I will! See you tonight.”

With that, you closed the door behind you and headed to the small cafe near the gallery. The walk was pleasant with warm weather that wasn’t too hot and a slight breeze to cool you. Soon, you reached the cafe, a cute and quaint spot that had been around for around ten years at that point. You visited often with Joohee on Saturday afternoons when the two of you had plans later in the day.

You opened the door, it jingling in response to your arrival, and the employee at the counter looked up. The one working that morning was Daehwa, a college student who had been working there for a couple of years now. He knew your order well and often engaged you in conversation if the cafe was empty. There was a bit of a crowd today so he quickly entered your order without you having to say anything, and began making it while you waited off to the side. Once he presented you with your iced tea and croissant with a wink, you sent him a grateful smile, and quickly tore through the croissant, noting the time getting closer to three.

You finished your snack in record time and quickly stood, clearing away your space and waving a quick goodbye to Daehwa, who sent you a grin in response. The gallery was just across the street and had a small line outside, which you quickly joined. You sipped the last of your tea, looking around for a trashcan near you so you didn’t have to bring it inside the gallery, but only saw one close to the entrance which meant you’d lose your spot in line. The idea made you frown and you considered keeping the empty cup in your bag until you moved forward in the line.

“Seo Y/N?”

You turned at the mention of your name to find Kim Namjoon standing behind you in a light brown sweater and collared white shirt underneath, with a darker brown corduroy blazer and khakis. He had round, wiry glasses on and wore a stunning smile that showed off his deep dimples.

“Oh, Namjoon-ssi, I didn’t realize you’d be attending this as well,” you said, smiling and bowing politely.

“Yeah, I’ve been following this artist for a while now and saw a couple of months ago that they were doing an exhibition. Do you like Cha Heewon too,” he asked, putting his hands into his pockets. His kind gaze on you and sweet smile made your cheeks feel warm as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, I’ve been following them for a few years now so I was really excited when I saw the location for this show. I was lucky to get tickets, they sold out so fast!”

“I know, right? I was basically refreshing the page the day they opened up trying to be the first one in,” Namjoon chuckled and his baritone voice reverberated through your bones, almost making you sigh.

“Yeah, but at least we’re here now,” you smiled, about to turn back around.

“Would you, uh, like to walk around the exhibit together,” Namjoon asked, scratching the back of his head.

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if this would be crossing a line with Yoongi, but you steeled yourself. He wasn’t allowed to dictate who you became friends with. You clearly bumped into Namjooon by coincidence and have a shared interest, so why wouldn’t you two walk around together?

“I’d love to,” you responded, feeling proud of your steadfastness in not letting Yoongi mandate your choices or social interactions.

Namjoon smiled widely in response, nodding, “Great, none of the other guys want to come with me to these kinds of things. Sometimes, Tae does but he’s super flaky.”

You chuckled, “Same here, Joo always complains about how boring it is and Hobi wasn’t even here, but he wouldn’t enjoy it either.”

“Hobi, that’s Hoseok, right? The one who worked in Busan,” Namjoon recalled, scratching his chin.

“Yes,” you nodded, “He’s planning on moving back here so he’s all busy trying to get that sorted.”

“Well, maybe we can go to these things together in the future,” Namjoon proposed, smiling down at you.

You felt your cheeks heat, being around handsome men wasn’t good for your health. You looked up at Namjoon, smiling in response, “I’d really like that, Namjoon-ssi.”

Namjoon cringed, his mouth turning up into a frown, “You can drop the formality, we’re the same age, right?”

You nodded, laughing slightly, “I guess I’m just used to it. I’d really like that, Namjoon-ah,” you emphasized. Namjoon chuckled, turning away for a moment. You could’ve sworn you saw his ears go pink at the edge.

The line moved forward fairly quickly and the two of you were soon inside the exhibit, with you throwing away your cup at the entrance. Namjoon gave thoughtful commentary on each painting you stopped at, with you providing your thoughts as well. You found yourself quickly becoming comfortable in his presence and the two of you were soon joking around and making very pleasant conversation.

At one point, an older woman stopped the two of you, stating, “You’re such a cute couple, I love your matching outfits. I hope you’re having a fun date!”

The woman walked off before you or Namjoon could correct her, so you ended up trying to laugh off the encounter. Her words made your cheeks burn and you worried that it had offended Namjoon, especially considering that Yoongi was his friend. If it bothered Namjoon, he didn’t show it, instead carrying on like nothing had happened.

Namjoon’s company was quite enjoyable and you relaxed into his smooth voice, feeling yourself becoming less and less stiff. The conversation flowed easily and you both bonded over your love for art, with Namjoon mentioning other artists that you noted down to look up later. He seemed much more experienced in this area than you and you found yourself enraptured by his explanations and passionate rants.

A couple of hours passed and the two of you exited, with Namjoon insisting on walking you to Yoongi’s building. Your conversation from inside the gallery continued as you walked, and you found yourself not wanting to return to Yoongi’s apartment in favor of Namjoon’s calming presence.

“I noticed you weren’t wearing your ring,” Namjoon mentioned, making you stumble in your step.

You glanced down at your hand before scratching the back of your head embarrassedly, “Yeah, I guess I’m still getting used to it. It’s kind of weird, being married that is.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Namjoon smiled reassuringly, “I’m sure Yoongi hasn’t been the most receptive either.”

“Understatement of the year,” you laughed, a tinge of annoyance present in your tone, “He’s so hard to read.”

“He’s like that with most people. He takes some time to open up. I promise he’s a really great guy once you get to know him, he’s just a bit uncomfortable in the situation. He’ll warm up to you, eventually,” Namjoon said, patting your shoulder.

“Eventually,” you repeated, twisting your hand around your ring finger. You should really put it on.

You had reached Yoongi’s building at this point and had stopped just outside the doors. Namjoon must’ve noticed your solemn mood because he added one last thing before leaving, “You know, as much as Yoongi’s dragged his feet throughout this whole marriage process, I haven’t seen him without his ring once since the wedding.”

You looked up at Namjoon, lips slightly parted at the surprising statement. Namjoon only winked before turning around, “I’ll see you at the gala tonight, Y/N.”

Nodding mutely, you waved, before entering into the building and taking the elevator up to Yoongi’s floor. You weren’t really sure what to make of Namjoon’s words.

Adding the final touches to your look felt simple enough, you’d dressed for these types of galas before. The dark blue satin dress felt nice against your skin and the cowl neck flattered your bodice and neckline. You chose a thin necklace that dipped into your cleavage with matching earrings, deciding to keep your hair down to avoid having to style it. After donning your “rich people” watch, as Hoseok had dubbed it due to its stark contrast to your usual digital watch, you felt that your look was complete. Taking one last look in your mirror, you scrutinized yourself, trying to find anything that would make you seem undeserving of Yoongi.

It wasn’t a train of thought you were comfortable with, but your mother had made sure to emphasize its importance. You needed to look like someone worthy of being at Yoongi’s side. You certainly didn’t feel like it, but your mother didn’t really care about that. Just like in everything else, the outward appearance and how you were perceived by others took the utmost importance.

Your reflection stared back at you, solemn and lonely. You had tried to hide your tiredness with makeup, but you still felt that you could see the exhaustion in your face. You felt drained.

Everything was tiring.

You didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity, though. After tapping your cheeks lightly to give yourself some encouragement, you headed for your door. You were just about to open it, catching a glimpse of your hand encasing the doorknob, feeling that your finger looked empty.

You considered for a moment whether you should really display your relationship or not, but Namjoon’s words circled inside your head. Shaking them off, you turned around, grabbing your wedding band off your desk, and slipping it on. You did say that you should wear it more regularly, you told yourself.

You headed down the stairs, catching sight of Yoongi in his regular suit with a dark blue tie that was similar enough to the shade of your dress. He looked stunning with his dark hair combed back and suit fitted to his slender waist. Your eyes trailed up his form, appreciating his full visual before reaching his face, who was looking at you with wide eyes.

Suddenly, you felt embarrassed, maybe you had tried a bit too hard. A nauseous feeling began building up in your stomach as you descended the staircase, feeling heavily self-conscious of your appearance. Did you try too hard? Not enough? Did you look ridiculous? You bit the inside of your cheek, not wanting to mess up your lipstick, maybe you should’ve tried for a different dress. The sickly feeling grew as you approached Yoongi at the door, avoiding making eye contact. You didn’t have time to change now, but you sure wished that you had a large coat to cover yourself.

You really didn’t want to go to this gala.

As you finished slipping on your heels, clutching at your stomach to push away the ill sensation, you stood fully, facing the door. Yoongi hesitated for a moment in front of you before opening it and leading you to the elevator. The ride down to the garage was silent, save for Yoongi shifting about in his suit. You wondered if he was as uncomfortable as you, but quickly pushed the thought away. He had no reason to be uncomfortable.

The drive over to the banquet hall was equally silent, with the only words being exchanged between Yoongi and the driver who was waiting in the garage. Your fingers were constantly picking at invisible seams in your lap and your eyes stayed trained on the window beside you, trying your hardest not to think about Yoongi on your other side.

He hadn’t said anything to you since you left the house, but you swore you could feel his eyes on you, which only made you more anxious. You had to continuously wipe your palms against the leather seats of the car and your dress to wipe off the sweat and his stare dug into you every time. Every few minutes or so, you’d consider trying to strike up conversation with him before thinking better of it, not wanting to face a judgemental or disgusted expression if he wore it.

After what felt like forever, you finally arrived at the building the gala was being held at, the driver politely informing you that he would be back to pick you up at your request. Yoongi exited first due to you having to adjust your dress so you could exit gracefully, and he surprised you by opening your door and offering his hand for extra balance.

The action made your cheeks heat before you remembered that you were in a public place now and he had to act the part of your husband. Reality crashed down on you, washing over you in a wave of bleakness, but you plastered on a submissive smile all the same. You took his hand, exiting the car, noticing Yoongi staring at your finger. You were about to question him before his gaze turned to you and his mouth formed a small smile.

“You look beautiful,” he said, quietly, much too quiet for anyone around you to hear. The words sent warmth straight to your face and leave you stuttering out a ‘thank you’. Yoongi didn’t release your hand as you walked into the banquet hall, nodding your greetings at the guests you see first. Your mother spotted you immediately and waved you over, with you and Yoongi obediently following.

“Good to see you could make it,” your mother said curtly, surveying your outfit. She only turned away afterwards, so you took that as your approval and discreetly tugged on Yoongi’s hand so you could move on. He got the hint, thankfully, and led you through the other standard greetings and pleasantries that were involved in events like these.

The questions were repetitive, to say the least.

“How are you two doing as a newly wedded couple?”

“How’s the business, Yoongi?”

“When are you two thinking of having kids?”

“Are you still working for that game company?”

It was exhausting, but Yoongi’s warm hand grasping your own grounded you. After about an hour, you’d made the rounds throughout the hall and Yoongi still hadn’t let go of you. But you weren’t complaining. A few times, you were offered champagne by a passing server, but you refused each time. Yoongi’s musky cologne was intoxicating enough.

Finally, you reached a point where you could relax, no longer having any old men or women to dish out backhanded compliments and you having to awkwardly laugh through them. Yoongi seemed to also feel the tension release, noticing his shoulders sag slightly and a deep breath exhale from his lips. He released your hand, making you frown, feeling like your palm was empty now, but you couldn’t protest aloud.

You figured that was the end of Yoongi’s image maintenance regarding your matrimony but his hand slid down the open back of your dress, erecting goosebumps in its wake. His fingers rested at the small of your back, gently guiding you to the group where Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon and Joohee stood talking. It rendered you speechless and you opted for silently following, with your brain working overtime to understand what was going on.

You arrived at the group, Joohee immediately sending a look regarding the placement of Yoongi’s hands, but you were unable to respond, still too flustered by the warm of his skin against your back. You bowed mutely in greeting to the rest of the people there, smiling at Namjoon who returned it widely.

“Where’s Yeonhee noona,” Yoongi asked, the mention of Seokjin’s wife pulling you into the conversation.

“She’s at home with Hwannie,” Seokjin responded, smiling brightly at the mention of his wife and son. Yeonhee had given birth a few months ago to a beautiful baby boy, Hwansoo, and Seokjin hadn’t really shut up about him since. You’d seen Yeonhee at your wedding and she’d looked equally as elated, practically glowing. “I wanted to stay back too, but she mentioned something about wanting me out of the house for quality time with Hwannie,” Seokjin finished, earning a laugh from the group.

Joohee was trying to silently communicate with you, asking whatever she could through shifts in her eyes and small head movements about your close proximity to Yoongi, but you had no answers. You hadn’t been expecting it either, Yoongi had taken the initiative to make physical contact. You could tell she was getting frustrated with your continued subtle shrugs before she looked behind you and cringed.

“Great, mom wants me to go over there, probably for another marriage talk,” Joohee groaned, inching behind her brother to avoid her mother’s piercing gaze, “I think that’s Lee Hyunsoo, too! Gross! He’s an ass.”

You frowned at the mention of Hyunsoo, a common figure among those who belittled you in your youth at parties just like these. You felt Yoongi shift beside you before speaking, “Yeah, he is an ass, he kept making weird comments to me throughout the reception last week. Good luck with that.”

Yoongi’s comment only made you frown further. You hadn’t really noticed Hyunsoo during your reception, much less him talking to Yoongi. You couldn’t think on it for long, though, having to wave a solemn goodbye to Joohee who began her trek over to her beckoning mother. Yoongi continued his conversation with Seokjin, talking about some sort of business thing happening, nothing you cared too much about, and you were left staring blankly around you.

“You look really pretty,” Namjoon said, drawing your attention, making you blush pink at his words.

“Thanks, so do you, Namjoon-ah,” you teased in response, making him grin and show off his deep dimples. You instantly relaxed in his comforting presence, but you were still aware of Yoongi’s burning palm against your skin.

“Oh, I meant to mention earlier today, you said you like plants, right? There’s this great plant shop in Samcheong-Dong that you should check out,” Namjoon began excitedly, making you recall your earlier conversation in which you had mentioned your plants at your apartment in passing.

“We should totally check it out! I’m always down to get more plants, although I probably shouldn’t,” you joked, letting yourself ease into the easy conversation.

“You can never have enough, or at least, that’s what I tell myself,” Namjoon chuckled, “There’s also another show next month for one of my favorite artists. Do you think you’d be up to check it out?”

You nodded, “Yeah, of course, I’d love to. Just send me the details.”

“I don’t think I actually got your number earlier,” Namjoon mentioned, scratching the back of his head and outstretching his hand holding his phone.

“Oh, right, that would probably help,” you smiled, taking it and entering your number. You handed it back to him, smiling, but noticed the troubled expression on his fact, looking just beside you.

Yoongi had stiffened next to you and you had been so absorbed in your conversation with Namjoon that you hadn’t noticed, or noticed the fact that Seokjin was gone now, talking to some other old businessman at another table.

“Have you two gotten close,” Yoongi asked, though he didn’t really sound like he was looking for an answer, with gritted teeth and his hand pushing into your back.

“Oh, um, we met at the art show earlier,” you said, looking at Namjoon to continue your thought.

“Ah, yeah, we ended up walking around together and we became friends,” Namjoon laughed, though it seemed a little stilted, “Your wife’s really nice, hyung.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi said curtly, before releasing you and stepping away, “I have to go speak to a couple other people. Could you keep an eye on her, Namjoon?”

The question made you gawk, feeling anger rise from your trembling fingers. You didn’t need someone to keep an eye on you, you were a grown woman, for God’s sake. You moved to retort Yoongi’s absurd request but he was already walking away. What even was that? Why was he being so weird? Maybe his niceness earlier was just a fluke. Turning to Namjoon in a huff, you took in his sheepish smile.

“I don’t really think you need babysitting, but I would like to talk more,” he offered kindly, making you release a breath and smile in return.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you agreed, following him to a nearby table where you spent the rest of the evening. The conversation was pleasant, almost making you forget Yoongi’s odd behavior, but your anger for him had only simmered. He had no right to act like you weren’t your own agent, no right to treat you like a child. His earlier pleasant interactions with you and electric contact against your back left you even more confused, only adding to your anger. His moodswings were beginning to give you whiplash.

You tried your best to focus in on your conversation with Namjoon for the rest of the night but you found your gaze drifting back to Yoongi. He was speaking with other men your father’s age, shaking hands and exchanging practiced polite smiles. He looked tired.

But what did you care? You shouldn’t care, he had been so rude earlier, but you knew you couldn’t help it. Maybe you’d ask Mrs. Lim to make his favorite meal on Monday when she came back.

The rest of the evening carried on uneventfully, with you and Namjoon making countless plans for shopping outings and art shows galore. He’d even managed to score tickets to an evening historical art museum tour, something you’d been wanting to attend for a while. Eventually, he had to leave, though, citing an early morning the next day, and hugged you goodbye. As he was doing so, he whispered in your ear, “I saw you put on the ring, I’m glad.”

His hot breath on your ear made your brain stutter but you mumbled out an acknowledgement, and he soon released you, waving goodbye as he walked toward the exit. The rest of the attendees were beginning to leave too, signalling the beginning of the end of the night. You sat glumly at your table, noting that Joohee had already left, having had a quiet argument with her mother that caused her to storm out.

You brought out your phone, making sure to message her asking if she was alright. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you looked up to see Yoongi staring down on you with an impassive expression.

“Are you ready to go?”

You neglected to respond, still feeling upset with his earlier words, and simply stood, waiting to be led to the car. Yoongi obliged, not flinching at your cold demeanor, and you both soon entered the car, riding home in silence.

During the drive home, your mind swirled with all sorts of questions regarding Yoongi’s behavior. His actions would likely point to jealousy surrounding Namjoon, but how did that make any sense? How could Yoongi harbor affection for you if he barely knew you? Especially if he seemed so opposed to the idea as well.

You like Yoongi even though you barely know him.

Your mouth upturned at the unwelcome thought. That wasn’t a fair comparison, you didn’t outwardly show any jealousy toward Yoongi’s other conquests. And there wasn’t even anything between you and Namjoon to begin with.

Well, mostly. You couldn’t deny the excitement you had when you saw him in the hall or the way you enjoyed speaking with him about everything and nothing throughout the art show and gala. But you weren’t going to think about that too hard right now.

The only logical conclusion you could draw was that your close friendship with Namjoon made him uncomfortable. He did say that he didn’t want you to mix personal lives at all. You almost empathized with that before remembering his condescending words earlier that evening, making anger surge through your blood once more.

Well, Yoongi could suck it. He didn’t get to dictate who you became friends with and he didn’t have any claim over his own friends, making them off-limits. You weren’t responsible for dealing with his childish feelings and immature attitude. That was all up to him.

It’s his problem to figure out why he’s acting so bizarrely.

Why was Yoongi acting so bizarrely?

He couldn’t understand. Why did he feel so possessive over you? It’s not like he felt any romantic attraction, he was the one to set the open relationship boundary after all. Why did it bother him so much that you were evidently so close to Namjoon now?

He breathed out a sigh, sitting idly in his studio upstairs, tired from the gala. Namjoon was one of his closest friends, they made music they’d never release together. He shouldn’t be upset that you’re becoming friends with him. He knew this rationally, but why did it still make him so uncomfortable?

As Yoongi leaned back in his chair, head upturned to the ceiling and eyes closed, his mind wandered to the few times he’d seen you in his home since the wedding. The morning after, you’d looked stunning, coming downstairs in nothing but the same shirt and shorts he’d seen you in the night prior, the cold air making him realize you weren’t wearing a bra. He’d averted his eyes at that point, feeling like he was encroaching on your privacy, even though you were in his kitchen.

Watching you realize your own attire and scramble upstairs to change had been cute, but Yoongi hadn’t wanted to entertain that thought. Either way, it was quickly replaced by the way your body felt against his as he reached above you for a mug. He couldn’t erase the sensation of your soft curves against his front from his mind.

When he’d arrived home in the middle of you redecorating, he wasn’t sure why he’d offered his help. Maybe he wanted to get a glimpse into your room, grasping at a chance to see your personality transferred to the decorations adorning your bedroom walls. He’d been surprised by how much he’d liked the cutesy embellishments you’d added, finding that the surprising duality suited you. You were so often carefully neutral in your expressions and words and seeing your personal taste being so pretty and pleasant was charming.

Later that night, he was surprised to see your bedroom light still on at the late hour when he’d left his room to get water. He peeked inside, seeing you lying on the floor in a mess of bolts, evidently trying to finish the last plank on your desk that was set up against the wall. The sight of you spread out so comfortably on the floor, hair strewn around your head almost framing your face like a halo, and your mouth partially open, letting out soft snores made him smile. He entered your room as quietly as he could, gently lifting you onto your bed and tucking you in, not even stirring you in your deep sleep.

He was about to leave when he stepped on a screw, making him flinch and look at the mess of things still left to do. If he’d finished up your desk and set up your TV, it was because he couldn’t stand a mess, not for any other reason. Not that you seemed to know based on your demeanor the next morning.

You’d looked adorable, coming down the stairs in rumpled clothing and tangled hair, your shirt’s neck slipping down your shoulder. But, he’d kept that thought to himself, behind pursed lips. You’d looked equally as beautiful in your cute brown dress that you’d worn to the art show, making him frown at his memory of being unable to tell you so.

Well, why should he? He’d been the one to separate you two so blatantly, after all. He shouldn’t give you mixed signals.

The thoughts of you in your loose and tight clothing, the image of you coming down the stairs in the silk dress that draped perfectly over your curves, and the tantalizing feeling of your skip against his palm had him leaning further back into his chair.

Maybe he was just horny.

Yoongi sat up, all of a sudden. That was totally it! He’s just distracted by you because he hasn’t been laid in a while. That had to be it. It couldn’t be anything else, he wouldn’t allow it to be.

Yoongi grinned, an easy smile taking over his face. Why was he so worried, the answer had been so simple. All he had to do was find a quick one night stand and his problems would be solved.

His grin faltered. Probably, his problems would probably be solved. He didn’t want to consider what it meant if they weren’t.

previous / masterlist / next

596 notes · View notes