#but whenever I do quizzes their differences jump out

[imogenkol]

— DOUBLE UQUIZ

I was tagged @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton and @corvosattano thank you my beloveds 💕💕💕

Tagging: @chuckhansen @risingsh0t @marivenah @voidika @minaharkers @shegetsburned @indorilnerevarine @queennymeria @simonxriley @sstewyhosseini @aceghosts @jacobseed @jackiesarch @jinfromyarikawa @detectivelokis @florbelles @shellibisshe @unholymilf @roofgeese @adelaidedrubman @loriane-elmuerto + anyone else!

Which Type Of Protagonist Is Your OC?

How Is Your OC’s Soul Perceived?

reluctant chosen one

this is usually a teenager flung about by forces outside of their control, but it can also be anyone picked for a higher calling to a cause they don't believe in. your mission isn't just to complete the task at hand--it's about coming to your own conclusions, and finding the system is corrupt from the inside out. it's about returning the favor, and embracing righteous anger as a form of self-liberation. sure, you'll save the world. you'll also fuck up the people who made you do it.

the strong-willed

your soul has touched darkness and so you learned to wrap yourself within it. you felt fear and decided you would never let it control you again. you're not always all sharp edges and cool stares, but you refuse to be prey again. you turned your teeth into fangs so you would be the one to bite. you learned to growl louder than all the predators who stole your innocence. it may seem like you don't care, sometimes you try to pretend you don't, but i see the way you sharpen your knives when the ones you care about are hurting.

hot, sopping mess

oh my god what the hell happened to you. clearly something a little fucked up. you have been through trials and tribulations, but some kind of ball of fritzy emotions keeps you kicking. it's probably that raging, protective heart of yours. it's been broken so many times but still wants you to feel happy, somehow. you're loyal, and emotionally a mess, and a bit of a dumbass, but you know you're worth something. and you'll fight for that--and for those who stick with you--until the end.

the protecting nurturer

you have the heart that belongs to a warrior's mother. you ache for your loved ones and you'll fight to preserve their smiles. you take care of the people around you. you want them to feel safe and warm. you do anything to protect those around you, even if it's from themselves. you have an eye for the details no one else realizes they need. you're the one that makes a house a home. you make sure it's safe because you know what it was like to be afraid of the places that should have been comforting.

universe’s accident

you don't think you're special, but you really, really are. and yeah okay, maybe you weren't supposed to be here, but damn, we're glad you are. whatever prank the universe pulled, it was backfired beautifully. you're the type of protagonist whose flaws become their greatest assets. your boughts of bad luck eventually come back around as bonuses to you and what you protect as miraculous coincidences of earned convenience. always remember--there are no accidents.

the wonderlust heart

your soul longs for your adventure. sometimes you're filled with so many ambitions and dreams you think you might burst. you rush about in a frenzy, afraid to miss out on all the opportunities life has to offer. you see the world with all it's light and all its darkness and can't help but see something beautiful in every part. every star and every shadow. you say you're running towards your goals, but sometimes i think you're trying to escape the ugly things you couldn't paint over.

[minhosimthings]

Sample Session || 18+

Synopsis: In which you ask your boyfriend for a semen sample

Pairings: Sunghoon × fem!reader, non idol au

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, p in v sex, rough sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex (not for you at all) masturbation (male), spit as lubricant, praise, degradation, swearing, rough dom Sunghoon, sub!reader, reader wears pink lingerie, boob fixation, dirty talk eyyy, collecting semen in that tube because we medical students, mentions of Yunjin from Le Sserafim and Gaeul from IVE

A/N: this is my submission for @deluluriddhi's 500+ followers event which you can find here! Had a shit ton of fun writing this though so here you go babies!

Being a doctor has its advantages.

You get to help people, you get a shit ton of money (student debt sucks but hey), you get a hot boyfriend, you can correctly pronounce and know the meaning of choledocholithiasis.

Did I mention hot boyfriend?

Park Sunghoon. Possibly the hottest and the only surgeon-in-training you'd ever want to have inside of you all day long.

Of course the walls still speak of the times he railed you in the room where they kept the crp training dolls, but we don't speak about that anymore.

But one of the greatest advantages of having a Park Sunghoon, as you soon found out, was that he proved useful in a quest.

For a particularly awkward thing.

"Sperm samples?" Yunjin gasped, almost spilling her coffee on you, "we have to collect sperm samples?"

"For the last time, yes." Gaeul groaned, massaging her temples, Yunjin had been asking the same thing since the past hour.

"How on earth are we going to get semen samples?" Yunjin asked, turning to you for some reason.

"Alright ladies, time to seduce some men." Gaeul laughed, sipping her frappuccino.

"Y/N already seduced one." Yunjin groaned, deflating her body onto the table, "Hey, get some for us too will you?"

"Number 1, we need to have different samples, and number two how the hell am I gonna ask him?" You quizzed the girls, who looked dumbfounded.

"Maybe..you know." Yunjin began, and you realised she had the same face on as she did whenever she saw the extremely phallic design of the law building at your college, "Just do the oogey-boogey with him."

Gaeul's frappucino can spit out her nose, as she cackled loudly, garnering the attention of many people in the cafe.

"The oogey-boogey YUNJIN WHAT?" Gauel kept laughing, holding her stomach tightly, "Is that your way of saying that Y/N needs to seduce Sunghoon into somehow giving her his semen?" She said, when her laughter died down.

"Absolutely not!" You protested. The idea of seducing your boyfriend was...nice to think of but to actually have a practical session? You would have rather jumped off a cliff.

"Just ask him today, we have a holiday tomorrow, so incase the oogey-boogey indeed does oogey-boogey you have semen! Simple."

Gaeul's frappucino was subjected to being ejected out of her nose again, as she rolled over in fits of laughter.

This wasn't you.

This definetly wasn't you, Sunghoon thought.

His mind was racing at a hundred kilometres per the second, and his bag full of pastries for you was abandoned on the floor as soon as he saw what lay in front of him.

A reward for his hard work today? The thought of what he had done to deserve you was running a lap through his brain. You, in your pretty pink lace, with white trimmings, and pearls on your neck, the ones he bought you of course.

"Well hello there, gorgeous." He said, grabbing your waist in his arms, as he always did when he got back home. But this time, with a different purpose.

"All dressed up for me today?" He quizzed you, placing a kiss at the nape of your neck. It was pathetic how much the simple action made your hole so wet.

Sunghoon toyed with the pretty pink lace of your bra, kissing up and down your collarbone. God had you changed your perfume? It seemed so intoxicating to him. Your hands came to rest on his shoulder, as you nibbled the tip of his ear a bit, which made his dick throb inside his pants.

"Come on." He mumbled through his kisses, lifting you into his arms, making you wrap your legs around his waist, which you did promptly.

The one thing that Sunghoon would have never expected was the various medical equipment that lay on your bed.

"Y/N." He glanced at you suspiciously, putting you down on your feet, "what's all this?"

You awkwardly cleared your throat and rushed over to the bed, picking up a tiny test tube and shoving it in your boyfriend's hands.

"Alright so I have an assignment and I need your help." You said, a bit more seriously than you had wanted to.

"Do you need me to get you pregnant or something?" Sunghoon chuckled, his eyes darkening, "Cause I won't say no."

"Actually it's not that."

"Then what is it, princess?"

"Canihaveyoursemensampleplease." You mumbled, or more properly, to say, rapped.

"Y/N, proper sentences please?"

Sighing heavily to yourself, you gulped and wrapped your arms around Sunghoon again, pressing a chaste, sweet kiss to his pink lips.

"I need a semen sample for an assignment." You mumbled into his ear, albeit a but louder this time. Sunghoon smirked into your neck.

"That's it?" He asked, a cocky smile spreading on his face. His baby, needs a sample from him? He thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

"Yeah...it's fine if you say no though!" You panicked, looking at him with widened eyes. But Sunghoon only chuckled again and raised your chin to his level with his finger.

"How could I say no when you're asking so nicely?" He said, guiding you over to the bed. Kicking off his shoes, Sunghoon settled in nicely between the sheets, while you awkwardly sat at the edge, handing the tube to him.

"Don't want to join me baby?" Sunghoon asked, taking off his belt and his trousers, and pulling you in for a sudden kiss, by grabbing your face with his hands.

"You're a medical student too Hoon, you know I can't." You rolled your eyes at him.

"Alright, but do me a favour. Hold the tube in place for me will you?" He handed the tube back to you, and you bit your lip. Holding it in place. In other words, bending over to make Hoon see your cleavage.

"If that's what'll get you off, then fine." You grumbled, although your panties were getting wetter by the second at the idea.

Sunghoon leaned against the bedframe, relaxing into the sheets, holding his throbbing cock with one hand. He began to jerk off hard, his hand rising to the tip of the cock, where more fat drops of precum accumulate, feeling the alcohol of your perfume take over the body,

"that what you want, princess?” he spits on his cock and starts jerking off again while he speaks his hand doesn't stop, slow movements, up and down as if he wanted to feel the familiar sensation of your walls clenched around him. He could feel a knot forming in his stomach, at the sight of seeing your tits, lined perfectly in your lingerie. The sight of it made him go mental.

His hand never abandons his cock, squeezing, going up and down without losing rhythm. Sunghoon began to feel signs of orgasm so he reduced the speed of his hand, waiting for what will come next.

Sunghoon thinks while squeezing his cock tightly, holding by the base his fingers massage the balls, he climbs his hand slowly and passes his thumb over the head of the cock dripping precum, spreading and with his eyes glazed, little moans escaping his lips. Sunghoon sits more centered on the bed, drops of sweat run down his hair, dripping and turning a trail around his neck, chest and belly, his body is so sensitive to touch that the drops of water seem to scratch while the sheets seem to hug him.

"Fuck—im close." He whimpered, eyes rolling back as the knot in his stomach broke and the next moment, his hand was drenched in cum, and you were holding a test tube filled with what you needed.

"Shit" Sunghoon fell back on the bed, while you happily inserted the semen into your carrier so that it stayed safe. You crawled promptly into the bed with him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you so much Hoonie, I had no idea how I was going to get the-"

"What about my payment princess?" Sunghoon's whispered growl in your ear left you crumbling.

His touch left your skin burning in desire for more and before you could even catch a breath his hands grabbed your legs and you find yourself wrapped around his waist. Your hair was soft between his fingers and as he gently pulled it, you let out a little groan. 

"Hoonie–" you whimpered, feeling a blush creep up to your cheeks.

He loved seeing you like that, confused, embarrassed, submissive, and highly aroused. Holding your gaze for another moment, he rubbed his hand over your wet folds, gathering your slick on his palm. When he finally bent a finger and slipped it between your lower lips, he watched you closely, and as a soft squelching sound rang in his ears, he saw you writhing in discomfort, frowning slightly, but it made him smile at you, and your embarrassment was quickly forgotten.

Holding your waist firmly, Sunghoon flipped you over onto the bed with a rough thump, making you moan at the very sensation of his biceps touching your body.

"So wet for me already?" Sunghoon chuckled, removing your panties slowly, "You're so adorable."

"Shut up." You groaned, feeling embarrased again, "Hoonie, we ran out of condoms, maybe we should-"

"You're on birth control right?" Sunghoon pressed a kiss to your neck, making you mewl when his tip slightly touched your pussy, "You're not leaving this bed until the sheets are either drenched or until you've fainted."

His voice was rough as he lined himself up with your entrance as you panted in anticipation, fingers digging into his back when he finally entered you, moaning deeply at the feeling of your walls starting to clench around him.

The stretch when he enters you burns gloriously, your mouth falling open in a perfect, round ‘O’ of ecstasy. Sunghoon fills you slowly, burying himself to the hilt, so deep that you can practically feel him rearranging your insides.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.” he praises.

Discomposed, his voice thickens, rounding the vowels and blurring the ends of his words. Sunghoon rocks his hips one shallow thrust striking a spot inside you that has your vision whiting out, ecstasy buzzing in your heavy limbs.

“That felt good, huh? Yeah. I know, I know,” he soothes, swallowing your whines with wet, deliberate kisses, tongue sweeping every corner of your mouth and teeth grazing your lips.

Your noises grew louder, as did the wet squelching sounds as your pussy fluttered around him, muscles clenching, a burning warmth gathering inside you. You sank your nails into the old wood, holding on for dear life as his pelvis smacked against your cushioned ass in quick succession.

 “Can’t you handle it, baby?” Sunghoon looked at you with pity, "Is it too much for your pathetic pussy?"

“I can-fuck, I can—handle it.” you whimpered. You clearly, could not handle it.

His own grunts filled your ears, adding to the tension building up in your belly, those deep vibrations pushing you right over the edge.

"Hoon-I—ah FUCK!"

You cried out when your walls clamped around him, that tight coil within exploding into a thousand tiny lights that made your entire body convulse against him. He felt your orgasmic contractions, and despite the soreness in his leg, he kept fucking you through your release, your juices helping in easing your tight passage, but he still strained to keep his rhythm. His fingers dug into your soft skin, and he felt a bead of sweat running along his temple.

That unlocked something inside of him. While he still held you, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he could reach, he slammed into you, forcing your small body to jerk in his arms with each thrust. He grunted and moaned, nearly panting, as he crammed himself inside of you.

It doesn’t take long for your next orgasm to build up, releasing it with a silent cry as you unintentionally dig your fingers into Sunghoon's back causing him to groan in your ear in pleasure. He keeps his thrusts consistent as you begin to leak around his cock and onto the blanket beneath you. There’s no doubt you’ll have to change the bedding later. 

All you could do was bury your head in his chest until with one more thrust, he pushed into you, unloading pump after pump of cum. Afterwards, he slumped down, slowly dragging his cock out of your stuffed cunt, leaving you empty and internally screaming at the intoxication of the burn.

"Shit-" Sunghoon plopped down on the bed, next to you. Both of your chests rose and fell in unison, as you managed to steeply catch your breath.

A moment of calm silence arose before-

"Does your professor need any more sampler or...?" Sunghoon asked, eliciting a laugh out of you.

"Nope, just the one." You chuckled at his unseriousness as he pulled you in for cuddles.

"You're changing the sheets this time Hoon."

"Damn it."

Bonus

"So you did the oogey-boogey with him?"

"Yunjin!"

[thinkaboutmeff7au]

flash time 115

(1997.)

I'm really good at getting lost in this place. I was supposed to go meet up with the other 2nds, but I might have gotten off on the wrong floor and taken a wrong turn. And I think I wandered through a security door with another group that I don't actually have access to...

Anyway, there's a huge break room that has a couple windows on the side at the corner, and it's full of Turks. It must be their break room...I slow down and peer through the window from the corner, just out of sight.

The bald one with sunglasses on is Rude. I've seen him around. He's standing in the corner looking at his watch. Then, there's Cissnei having coffee and a muffin at the table. Zack always says hi to her whenever he sees her. The blonde girl with the ponytail I've never seen, nor the guy with dark hair and glasses.

I hear footsteps down the hall. I quickly slip out of sight. Why am I doing this? I should be getting back to my station, but...

"'Sup, bitch," I hear someone say. It's a woman's voice with a gritty tone. It must be the blonde girl.

"Huh? Are you talking to me?" I recognize that voice, though. It's Reno, the red haired guy who always wears his shirt half unbuttoned.

The woman clicks her tongue. "Note to self, Reno responds to 'bitch' as predicted."

"Watch it, you're barely out of training," Reno says. "Tseng will have your ass...hey! Hey what's that look for?!"

A different voice giggles. "Sorry, I don't think Tseng will back you up on that." It's Cissnei. "He's got bigger fish to fry."

"'Sides, when did you become a rat? Little teacher's pet?" the other woman chides. "Hey, I can get you some concealer for those hickeys. Wall Market last night?"

"Dude! Come on!"

I take my chances and peer back around the corner through the window. Rude has popped his collar up, and the blonde woman has kicked back in her chair with a wry, cocky grin. "Hey man, no shame. I can help you touch up your roots while we're at it."

"Shotgun!" Reno hisses.

She puts her hands up. "I'm a bottle blonde, I'll admit it. I'll fix you right up."

Reno's fists are shaking, but Rude looks up. "Reno," he says.

This makes him back down, but only a little. "How the fuck do you know so much?" he snarls.

The other guy at the table, the one with the glasses, looks up from his magazine. "Really?" he remarks.

"Are you stupid? That's our thing," Shotgun says, leaning forward. "We gotta know stuff. What better place to start than in our own circle?"

"You don't have to stalk me!" Reno exclaims. "All right, what else do you know? Not about me, either! How about, uh..."

Cissnei perks in the middle of a bite of her muffin. "How about SOLIDER?" she says, then swallows. "It's easy to start with, especially if you shadow Tseng. He's eyes for their Director."

"Okay, okay." Shotgun tilts her head. "So 1st-class Fair--"

My heart jumps. I can't leave now. The small town gossip instinct roots me in place.

Reno cuts her off. "That's too easy, dude just got busted for crushing Hojo's nose."

"Okay, fine!" she huffs. "1st-class Hewley tends the community garden down in Sector 4. He's there about 3 times a week in the spring and summer. He also sits in for a jazz trio that plays above the plate."

"What instrument does he play?" Rude quizzes.

"Drums."

"Nice work."

Reno paces around her. "Okay, who else? There are more SOLDIER than that--more 1sts, even. That's still easy picking though, they're like celebrities in their own right--"

"1st-class Rhapsodos stashes his weed in Tseng's locker."

"Too easy," Reno says, albeit with a snort. "He complains about that pretty loudly when it happens."

Shotgun rolls her fingers on the table. "Okay...he's...in a gay relationship with 1st-class Cetra?"

Everyone seems to clear their throat at the same time. The guy reading a magazine pushes up his glasses and taps the side of his nose. "Don't be hasty," he mutters.

"Huh? What do you mean, they're not dating? I saw them...they're always fucking leaving together, and looking at each other with those huge goo goo mako eyes. Hell, I caught them coming out of the 1sts training room and Rhapsodos was still buttoning up his pants!"

"Just because they're fucking, doesn't mean they're together," Reno says.

"What?!"

"Don't," Cissnei says with a wave of her hand. "It's not worth it."

Shotgun rolls her eyes. "Well, if you know all that, then you probably know that he's adopted, too."

"Yup," Reno says. "He was 15 when Jenova Cetra swept him up with her three other kids. They're still down in Sector 2."

"No," Shotgun corrects, "I'm talking about Rhapsodos."

All the Turks stop to stare at her.

"What?" Cissnei asks. "Really?"

She appears to have stumped them, and she knows it, leaning back in her seat. "Oooh!" she says. "Gotcha!"

"Fuckin' Banora apple juice poster boy is adopted? Fuck!" Reno shakes his head. "How the hell...and he still got all that money for it? Lucky bastard..."

"That's enough," Tseng says appearing in the doorway, and everyone jerks back, startled, including me. "You were so busy gabbing that you didn't notice a 2nd was eavesdropping."

Uh-oh. I stumble backwards, and hustle around the corner. My heart pounds as I find the emergency stairway and race down it, ignoring the blue in the corners of my vision. Hopefully Zack can give me a pass so I don't get reprimanded...

(C.)

epilogue:

"Apologies, sir," Cissnei said, standing up and dusting off her lap. "We were waiting for you to arrive..."

Tseng shook his head and set his attention to Shotgun instead. "Rhapsodos isn't privy to that, so keep it to yourself," he advised. "They're his foster parents. He gets a cut of inheritance because of the little bit of acting he did as a child."

"A cut?!" Reno exclaimed. "You're telling me he's rolling in cash and that's only a cut?!"

Tseng glanced over to Reno with a side eye and wrinkled his nose. "Yes. You should really limit your...less savory life choices to your weekends."

"What about Strife?" Rude asked. "The eavesdropper."

"I'll speak with him later," he replied, then narrowed his eyes at everyone. "You all have your assignments. Shotgun is with me today. Dismissed."

As the room disbursed, Reno hung back with Rude. "You knew there was someone listening?" he asked.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "I'm on SOLDIER training duty. Hopefully Tseng will understand that's punishment enough."

Reno snorted. "Or front desk."

"Don't tell Elena that."

[slowpoke-fics]

Scent | Mate Series

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Derek x Y/N

Summary: Derek is getting suspicious of you, you're hiding something and he wants to know what

Warnings: not really I think but just in case, as always, read at your own risk

A/N: This is Part One | Next Part

This whole thing is a whole family pack au and mate au, OC stuff in later chapters but I really loved writing this and love the idea of a family pack <3

You walked into Scott’s house, happily smiling at everyone gathered around the table, noticing that even Derek had showed this time. The wolves seemed to carry on about their business as you muttered something about dinner and moved to the kitchen. “I don’t like that ya know?” You jumped a little, turning to Derek and smiling in confusion. He sniffed the air, “All I can smell is your strawberry shortcake lotion. You use too much.” You scoffed, turning to the food, “I don’t care, go smell someone else.” He shook his head, “Why? I don’t like not being able to smell you.” You looked at him, eyebrows raised, "Derek, I know what you wolves do, it's a violation of privacy, I like my emotions being mine." Derek huffed under his breath, "Just trying to care." He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

You couldn't help but wonder if you'd been excessively hateful, but you were right. You knew better than anyone, wolves violate your privacy whenever they can by just smelling you, let alone with serious practice what they can do. You could never keep a secret around a pack of wolves, and living in Beacon Hills with the extra wolf sense going around is no different. It's better to just hide your scent all together. You of course knew how to do this very well without the nifty supernatural trick; putting lotion over your scent glands regularly, wearing tight clothes, and lots of deodorant. You sighed to yourself as you thought of how different it could be if you could come clean.

Derek hung back after the meeting, watching as you waved everyone goodbye, claiming he was cleanup help since you cooked. "What's up Derek?" Scott said once the door shut. "Y/n," Derek started, turning to Scott, hand rubbing his scruff nervously, "has she always covered her scent like that?" Scott's eyebrows furrowed, "Now that I think about it, yeah, why?" Derek shrugged, acting like it was no big deal but wanted to put the fuze out before it went to far, "Dunno, she's just the only one that does it, even Lydia with the amount of crap she wears, I can smell her," he sighed, "it's like Y/n is hiding something man, I've just never once smelled her." Derek shook his head, "I mean, it's never bothered you? Not being able to smell her?"

Scott could sense something he hadn't ever before with Derek, a sense of need, like when Stiles called to him when he almost lit himself on fire. "She just wants her privacy, she knows we can smell fear, anxiety, joy, embarrassment," he slapped Dereks shoulder, "relax man, are you really worried Y/n is out to get you?" Dereks hands fell next to him, "Something like that." Derek said his goodbyes to Scott and happily Stiles, as over the years he's grown to love the wild man, and left wondering about you.

At the next pack meeting, this time in his loft, you were the last one in again. As everyone was catching up and cutting up, Derek found his way beside you, "I don't like that one, it smells sour, what is it?" You blushed just slightly, "I don't know some cucumber mix." Derek huffed, "If all I can smell is fake shit, at least something good, citrus, sweet or somethin'," he shrugged as he made his way to the table.

You'd all been discussing new training for the supernatural creatures drawn in by the Nemeton and handling the strays that don't fall in line with the help of the argents. Derek was next to you, something you knew was no coincidence as he'd swapped places with Scott at some point. He reached over to the map in front of you, trying to rub just your shirt, but you slyly moved your arm, muttering an apology, "Oh, sorry," but Derek didn't miss the extra heartbeat, even if just for a second. What is going on with you?

A few days later you find yourself climbing in the passenger of Stiles' jeep, just leaving your house after reapplying lotion, knowing that you were going to Dereks' for pack training. "Scott needed a ride today, that okay?" Stiles quizzed you, studying you as you answered with a hum. "Everything alright?" he reiterated, turning the music up. You shrugged, "I just have a feeling something is going on." Stiles gave you a sympathetic smile as he pulled up to Scott's.

Scott climbed in Stiles' back seat, glancing at you, consciously aware that you only smelled like mixed berry lotion, smiling, "Hey, Y/n, how was your day?" You shrugged, "The usual, excited for some pack time." Scott listened to your steady beat, kicking himself for even listening. The ride to Dereks normal while you intently listened to Stiles ramble. It was impossible not to notice that something was bothering Scott, you just hoped it wasn't you.

Scott was the first to knock on the door, Stiles following impatiently while you stood behind the two men. Derek slid the door open, looking over the two men and directly smiling at you, welcoming you all in. You followed closely in behind Stiles, narrowly missing Derek. You sense him reaching forward, out for the small of your back, you quickly stepped out of the way and to the kitchen, hoping your heartbeat was steady. "So what am I making?"

You worked on finishing up the tacos, careful to clean up any mess you made and wash the used pans. You had Liam lay out the table who was cooling off from a tough session with Isaac. He was really slinging the plates down, you put your hand just inches from his, stopping him from laying another plate down, "Liam," his eyes connected with yours, "listen to my heart, get yours to match it." Liam shook his head, starting to lay another plate down, clearly frustrated, but you spoke again, "Liam," you sighed, "it is okay to lose control and get angry, but get it back. Take a breath, control your heart rate, ground yourself." Liam took a deep breath in as you guided him, smiling at you before gently setting the plates down. You could feel the anger dissipating from him as he did.

"Thank you for helping," you muttered as you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, making sure your sleeve covers your bare hand, smiling at him, "I'm gonna go get them." You walked into the training room, sweat and power smacking you in the face, "Dinner's ready!" Scott and Derek let go of each other, playfully draping their arms around each other, "You wanna spar, Y/n?" Derek asked and you laughed, a sound that blessed his ears, "Uh, no thank you, I'll leave that to the big bad wolves." Scott smiled, "Come on! Even Stiles trains!" Stiles jumps at this, pointing to Scott, "Hey!" Causing everyone to erupt into laughter, you smiled, "Who else is gonna cook?" At that Stiles interjected again, heading to the meal, "Not it!"

After you all ate you helped Liam collect and wash dishes, Derek watching you dodge every corner of the tablecloth, studied your moments as you put up pates, careful to not touch them with your bare hands. He thought to himself as he watched you that he was reading way too much into it. That you were just a private polite person, but something was rubbing him the wrong way, something he was missing. As you put away the last dish, Stiles stood up, smiling, "Bye, sour wolf." Derek glared at him but turned to you who was side by side with Stiles, your arm around his waist, also heading out, "See you later, sour wolf."

Scott trailed behind, making sure you and Stiles were out of earshot. "Man, what is your problem I can literally see the fury coming off of you." Derek glared at Scott, "Y/n, she just-" Scott rolled his eyes, "You can't be serious, not with this again." Derek rubbed his face, "Man, I'm telling you," he shook his head, clearly troubled, "She won't let me touch her! At all, I'm talking not even an accidental brush," Derek spoke lower, "She wouldn't train because that causes sweat, we could smell her, won't even touch the tablecloth. She washes every dish she uses, won't touch the plates with her bare hands? The plates?" Scott could tell Derek was genuinely upset by this, "Why does this bother you so much man?" Derek sighed, "I don't know," he drug broth his hands over his face, an attempt to rub the stress away, "I don't think she'd hurt us of course, but she's definitely- Scott, there's too many questions I need answered." Scott sighed, "Okay, if it means that much to you, I'll look into it." Scott started walking and that's when you snapped back into Stiles honking the horn of the car, you giggling with him as Scott came rushing out.

How much longer could you hide your secret?

[blu-joons]

You Appear On Knowing Bros Together ~ Park Jinyoung

Your eyes lit up as Jinyoung walked back into your dressing room after changing into his school uniform for the day’s broadcast. His smile widened as he looked at you too, studying the navy outfit that you wore so easily.

“I’m so ready for this,” he spoke as he closed the gap between the two of you, “it’s felt like far too long since I’ve been here anyway, but now I get to do it with you as well.”

You turned to come face to face with Jinyoung, just as the dressing room door opened and a member of staff peered round. Her hand waved the two of you to follow her, as Jinyoung’s hand intertwined with yours as you began your walk.

The set was one you’d never seen before, despite doing various promotions for different dramas that you did. For Jinyoung, it was his second visit, and whilst he loved visiting with his members before, he was thrilled to promote himself, and help promote you too.

You’d been sat down the night before by him to debrief you on what to expect from the show. Throughout the programme, he was quick to remind you that no one would be there to run the show quite like JYP had ended up doing for them last time.

“Whenever you’re ready, just head in,” a voice spoke up once you reached the classroom.

Jinyoung nodded back at him, “we’ll head straight in, no point standing around.”

Once she’d taken a few steps back to make sure that she was out of shot, Jinyoung grabbed onto the door handle, causing a loud bang and for the cast to jump at their desks.

Their eyes were quick to light up, especially as they saw you walk in, with Jinyoung already warning you that they had a bit of a preference for female guests. It was something you tried to think nothing of, although feeling their eyes stare was a slight distraction for you.

“I’m Y/N, and I come from the school of, you all better watch my latest drama seeing as you invited me to be here,” you quickly introduced yourself, smiling to each of the guys individually.

“And I’m Jinyong, and I come from the school of once you’ve watched Y/N’s drama, you should watch mine too.”

It was no secret that the two of you were dating, which Soogeun very quickly took advantage of as he took your class profiles from the bag that you’d been handed just before you walked into the classroom, browsing for any good information.

“They’ve probably been briefed on how to be quiet,” Janghoon pointed out to him, with his patience already wearing thin as he waited for Soogeun to ask a question to you both.

Your head shook as Soogeun looked across at you quizzically. “Just remember that we’re both very good actors, so will you really know if we’re telling the truth or not with our answers?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Soogeun chuckled, “she’s definitely been trained speaking like that.”

It didn’t take long before you were reaching underneath the desk, threatening not just Soogeun, but all of the cast, with the hammer that you held tightly Even Jinyoung took a step back as you held it up, warning the others how strong you could be.

With little information being found, thankfully, your profiles were soon completed, with Jinyoung moving to sit at the front desk whilst you grabbed the cue cards that had already been prepared, ready to read out the first of your questions for the group to guess.

“Alright, first question. Whilst I was filming my new drama, Jinyoung came to surprise me one day, but what else did he bring that took me by surprise?” You asked the group.

The memory was still very fresh for Jinyoung, as was your reaction too. Whilst he didn’t want to give too much away to the group, he could only chuckle as he remembered how the event unfolded very differently to how he expected it too.

“Was it romantic?” Heechul questioned, leaning forwards, “maybe a nice bouquet of flowers, or a box of chocolates? Cliché?”

“No way,” you laughed, shaking your head, “that’s not something Jinyoung does at all.”

“Had it been a while since you’d seen each other?” Hodong suddenly quizzed.

Your head nodded back at him, “so you’d expect it to be romantic, but it really wasn’t.”

Several more guesses came at you, from coffee trucks to spoilers of his own new drama that he was working on, but none of them quite hit the spot. For a while, you could only laugh, before deciding to finally help them out a bit to get to the right answer.

“Let’s just say that he didn’t arrive alone,” you added, as several faces lit up, “what was supposed to be a nice reunion was completely gate-crashed by who joined him.

“I think I know!” Kyunghoon spoke up, “did he bring some of his cast mates so that they could take a look at the competition to see who would get the best views?”

“It wasn’t his cast,” you smiled sympathetically, “but who he brought were close to him.”

From the back of the classroom, Sangmin rose to his feet, “did he bring the rest of his group members to come and see you? Like a group outing to your set.”

“Spot on!” You cheered, glancing across at Jinyoung, “it was so awkward after not seeing each other for a few weeks to just have the other members all stood around us too.”

“Maybe he’s not as romantic as we thought,” Youngcheol joked from the side of Sangmin, “what a terrible boyfriend, and a rubbish reunion too.”

Once the cast had finished scolding Jinyoung, the two of you swapped positions so that he could try and get some sort of revenge on you.

“Let’s see how you do with this one,” he smiled, “I’ve gone for a different approach, but what did I do for Y/N to recently celebrate our anniversary?”

“Group dinner?” Heechul teased, “was it a dinner for eight instead?”

Jinyoung instantly grabbed the hammer, hitting it against the top of Heechul’s head. “This time I did do the right thing, even I was impressed by what I’d managed to do.”

Hodong was the next to give an answer, “did you organise a nice dinner and pour your heart out to her? You guys have been together for a while, right?”

Jinyoung shrugged, “four years now, and words were some part of what I organised.”

“Well, you’re a singer too,” Kyunghoon mumbled to himself, although the whole room listened, “so did you maybe write a song for Y/N?”

As JInyoung’s eyes lit up, Soogeun quickly yelled, intercepting Kyunghoon. “You wrote her a love song and poured your feelings out to her after so many years together?”

“That’s right,” Jinyoung proudly smiled, placing the hammer back underneath the desk. “Although I’m doing a lot of acting right now, I didn’t want to forget my roots, and so a song seemed like the perfect way to surprise her, and it definitely did that too.”

Once your questions had been gone through, and a segment was filmed with Shindong, the broadcast was brought to an end with the two of you heading back to your dressing room.

“I thought we agreed to show people how nice are relationship is today,” Jinyoung whispered to you.

You shrugged back at him with a wide smile, “they did get to see how nice our relationship is, and also what a terrible boyfriend you can be sometimes too.”

His head shook in disbelief, “if we ever get invited back here again, I’m going to make sure I expose every last secret about you.”

“I reckon I’ve got a bit more about you too,” you warned. “Shall I bring up the hotel in Tokyo?”

“Even on national television?”

“Especially on national television.”

---

Masterlist

[mandoalorian]

Agent whisky (Teacher) x New agent (student). As you’re both fighting, you both get hot and bothered and reader throws him against a wall and the rest in folds. (Fem reader)

After Class [Jack Daniels x Reader] SMUT

Word count: 2.4k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, creampie, choking, teacher x student, exhibitionist kink, implied age difference

Masterlist

He was insufferable. He was your teacher — and oh, you hated him. You hated how he'd come into class smelling like sweet, honeyed cologne, causing all the girls to swoon at the mere sight of him. It was laughable, really. He wasn't anything special. He was attractive, sure. He had the charm of a king and the politeness of a saint. But it didn't matter because you hated him, and you wanted him to know that you hated him. So you'd talk during his lectures and you'd roll your eyes whenever he tried addressing you directly. He had this know-it-all attitude, he had these deep, chocolate brown eyes that were so easy to get lost in. The Statesman Academy shouldn't have even hired him. It was so easy to get lost in those damn eyes.

His eyes were just a few shades darker than his hair, which he kept hidden under a cringe-worthy cowboy hat. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't dreamt of wearing it while you ride him. The dirty fantasies about Mr Daniels (though he'd have you call him 'sir') didn't become regular until a few months ago. Now it was every single class where you became hypnotised by his attractive looks.

You hated his perfectly groomed mustache and how the thought of it brushing against your cunt haunted you during his seminars. You hated the perfect curve in his nose and how you imagined it nudging against your clit as he performed the most life changing oral on you. If only he knew about the things that went on in that filthy little mind of yours.

You practically gasped out loud when Mr Daniels dropped your assignment on the desk in front of you, a circle with a big red 'F' marked on. He quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at you, before moving on to hand out the rest of the essays. No way— there was no way that your essay has been marked fairly. You might have been slacking just a little this semester (due to Mr Daniels obnoxious handsome looks), but not to the extent of getting an F in your finals!

"Well done class, we all performed exceptionally well this term. There is however one person I need to see after class, she knows who she is," Mr Daniels glanced briefly at you and you narrowed your eyes, folding your arms over your chest. "But have an excellent vacation and remember don't party too hard." He winked cheekily before dismissing the class. Once the students filed out of the room, and the bell rang, signifying the end of the day, Mr Daniels stalked back into the classroom. He said nothing, didn't even spare you a look. He padded over to his desk, sunk into his chair and began to go through paperwork.

You waited for something— anything. The silence was deafening, and you began to tap your feet against the floor impatiently. Why the hell was he holding you hostage in his stuffy classroom on the last day of term? You assumed it was due to your abysmal grade on your essay, but he hadn't even mentioned it. He was ignoring you and once again, you hated him for it.

You were staring him out with absolutely no shame, taking in all his features. You admired his broad shoulders and watched his bicep flex as he wrote comments on the work he was checking through.

He'd noticed your staring too. He always had. He tried to contain the blush that crept up on his cheeks as your eyes burned into his body, watching his every move. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife. If he was going to speak to you about your essay result, he'd need to have a drink first. After a few more minutes of silence, he excused himself and left the classroom. Each professor at the academy had their own affinity for alcohol, Mr Daniels' beverage of choice being a glass of warm whiskey. He poured it into a small tumbler, admiring the amber liquid as he dropped a few cubes of ice in, letting it clink against the glass. The mere thought of you in his classroom, waiting for you, was enough to make his cock stir. He sighed, gulping down the liquid and made his way back to the classroom. It was the first time you and Mr Daniels had some one on one alone time. He hadn't drank enough to get intoxicated, but it was enough for him to lower his inhibitions.

He walked into the classroom and locked the door behind him, before turning to face you.

"Why am I here?" you asked with an unamused frown.

"You went from being a straight A student to getting an F in your most important exam of the year," Mr Daniels huffed with a disappointed shake of his head. You didn't care— no, you couldn't let yourself care about your professor. But seeing the despondency written across his face was enough to make your heart yearn with guilt for letting him down. "What happened?" he quizzed you eventually.

You considered his question. You weren't a dishonest person, and you knew exactly what had happened. You had been so distracted by your professor's ravenous demeanor, that you'd become too overcome with sexual desire to even focus the slightest in his lectures.

"You happened." you said, regretting the words as soon as they left your lips. Your voice broke slightly— you sounded pathetic.

"Excuse me?" he asked, raising both of his eyebrows in disingenuous surprise. You wanted to wipe the smirk that you saw creeping up on his lips. Your education wasn't a joke.

"I was doing fine in Agent Tequila's class," you acknowledged. "Maybe it's your teaching." you shrugged.

"My teaching?" Mr Daniels gasped incredulously.

"Oh quit playing dumb," you said, suddenly rising to your feet. Your chair scraped against the floor as you stalked over to your teacher. "I know my worth Mr Daniels, and it's not an F."

"Please, call me Jack." He hummed, reaching out and caressing your cheek. You subconsciously leaned into his smooth hand as his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your jaw. You hadn't even realised how close he had gotten to you as he admired your face, and the intimacy began to take effect down below.

"Oh, first name basis?" you spat sarcastically, pressing the palm of your hand against his chest, threading your fingers through the buttons of his white shirt so you could gently graze the skin of his tan chest. "How polite."

"Manners maketh man," he smirked, quoting the Statesman mantra, and you wanted to wack that dumb cowboy hat off his head. "Let me translate that for you," he pouted condescendingly, letting his hands fall to your own chest.

He squeezed your tits through your blouse, drawing a few wanton moans from you. "Wh- what makes you think I need that translated?" you asked your professor, trying to keep your cool. This is exactly what you had dreamt about for the past three months. His thumb rolled over your hardening nipples, pinching them now and again so he could watch you squirm underneath his touch.

"The F on your paper?" he shot back. Your eyes widened and you pushed him into the wall, his back slamming against the concrete as he groaned from the pressure you'd placed on him. He would be lying if he said it didn't feel good though. It was rare he'd have a lady take charge — especially not one as young and bright eyed as yourself.

"I hate you," you snarled as his fingers dipped under the hem of your short, pleated skirt. He chuckled darkly, sending a frenzy of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"Oh sugar," he drawled, the smell of scotch lacing his breath as he pressed a soft kiss into your jaw. You couldn't contain the small whimper that escaped your lips. He smirked, knowing exactly what he could do to you— how he could make you feel. "Look at you… got me pressed against the wall. I'm your teacher." he reminded you with a small tut.

"You drive me crazy," you admitted in a fluster, your hand falling down his button up shirt and resting at his oversized belt buckle. The coolness of the metal stung your skin as you parted your legs slightly, rubbing what you could on his jean clad thigh. "When you stand up there, in front of the class, talking all that shit about, about-" you couldn't even get your words out as his fingers graced your cunt, feeling out your clit under the material of your dampening panties.

"What?" Jack murmured, his teeth grazing your jaw as he sucked softly against your skin. "What is it?" he urged you to continue, your breathing jumping as he continued to softly press his thick fingers along your aching core. You tried to answer but nothing except lewd moan came out, and you felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "You joined the academy. You wanted to train as an agent. Maybe you'd prefer it if I transferred your classes to, let's say, Agent Champ? Or the sweet Ginger Ale?"

You curled your fingers around his leather belt. "N-no," you growled. "I want you," you revealed as you unclipped it and tossed it to one side. You groaned wantonly as you felt his erection press up against your thigh. It was clear that your professor wanted you too. "You know if- if Principal Champ finds out about this…" you moaned, working your fingers at Jack's zipper.

"He's not going to find out about this," Jack snapped, his harsh tone causing your eyes to snap open.

"O-okay cowboy," you bit your lip seductively, finally pulling his zipper down and freeing his hard, aching cock. You immediately wrapped your hand around him, smearing his precum down his length and started to pump at his erection, satisfied with the string of curses falling from his tongue.

"Fuck- so good," Jack praised as you worked his cock with your hands. "But I want more… I want to bury my cock in the warmth of your pussy. Would you like that baby girl?" he hummed, both his hands grabbing on your shoulders as he turned around and pushed you into the wall. You gasped as he ripped open your blouse in one swift manouver, the buttons popping and falling everywhere. His hungry lips pressed against yours as he slid his tongue into your mouth, kissing you roughly and with passion.

"Someone could just walk in." you gasped as Jack yanked your skirt down, letting it pool around your ankles.

He groaned longingly as he played with the waistband of your panties. "Lace? For school? I knew you were a dirty girl." he chuckled darkly before pulling them down. He wasted no time, pressed two fingers into your weeping cunt and rubbing between your folds. He stroked tight and precise circles into your clit, desperate to pump an orgasm out of you before he even entered. Your eyes snapped shut as you pressed your fingernails into his still clothed back. "Oh, you like that don't you?"

"Mm don't stop," you begged, rolling your hips against his fingers.

"Is this what you think about during my lectures?" Jack cooed. "Or do you imagine my cock?" He pressed his blunt tip against the inside of your thigh, pushing himself in between your legs. "So fucking wet and all for me." your professor shook his head in slight awe. You pushed the hat off his head and tangled your fingers in his dark brown hair, tugging teasingly in attempt to gain a reaction out of him.

Without warning, two of his fingers pushed inside of you and began to scissor you open. "If you want my cock I gotta make sure you're able to take it," he whispered huskily.

His fingers worked like magic and it wasn't long before your walls tightened around him and you reached your climax. "Greedy pussy." Jack sighed, removing his fingers and sucking them clean.

"Please sir, fuck me," you begged, your hands cupping his face as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"I told you, call me Jack," he growled before pushing himself deep into your quivering hole.

"Fuck Jack," you whined once he was fully seated. He was bigger than you had ever taken before, and he set a brutal pace. The classroom filled with obscene wet sounds as every single thrust became harder and sloppier as his balls slapped against your dripping cunt.

Jack kept up his pace, not halting once. "You always- you always fucking answer back," he whispered, digging one hand into your hip and bringing the other to your neck, squeezing it just enough for your eyes to widen slightly.

"Mm you always give me a reason too," you shot back and Jack's grip around you tightened as he fucked you senselessly.

"Shit, gonna cum. Gonna cum inside you and you're going to take it— understood?" he asked breathlessly. You nodded in affirmation and it only took a few more messy thrusts before he spilled his salty seed inside you.

He carefully sat you down on the edge of his desk as you came down from your own high. "Are you okay?" he asked you as he tucked himself back in his pants and adjusted his tie.

"That better have earned me an A," you muttered, biting your lip and shooting a seductive glance towards your teacher.

"Fair is fair," Jack shrugged. "You can leave when you're ready. Have a nice vacation." he smiled, back to his usual polite professor self. It made you sick— the way he could just fuck you with no remorse against the wall of his classroom and then pretend like nothing happened.

You stood up, taking your clothes from the ground and lazily sliding back into your skirt. "I don't have a fucking blouse," you mumbled, your eyes following the abundance of buttons that trailed across the floor. "You ruined it."

Mr Daniels took his suit jacket and wrapped it around your naked torso, buttoning it up gently so you were all covered up. "Do you need a lift home?" he asked.

You bit your lip, remembering your parents weren't home and smiled. "Actually, yeah please." you told him, wondering if he'd be interested in a round two.

Taglist — let me know if you wish to be added!

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[bokutoyaoya]

The boards exams were still a few months away, but you were desperately behind compared to your friends. If you weren’t in the operating room, you were studying in the residents’ lounge or hiding in one of the skills laboratory as they were the most quiet place for one to focus.

Not only did you need to catch up, you had to resume your responsibilities as the chief resident, which meant organizing the schedules and shifts of the interns and other residents, as well as report your colleagues and classmates’ hours logged in the past month to Daichi-san. Not to mention your weekly appointments with Takeda-sensei or the interviews you had started to fetch here and there, with no success so far.

Aran-san had been kind enough to help you by quizzing you while assisting him or whenever he would let you lead the surgery, and so far, you were doing better than you expected. Akaashi-san had visited for a craniotomy and offered you some tips and tricks to understand the examiner’s questions and cases. That is, when Akaashi wasn’t busy wooing Osamu, or the other way around.

Surprisingly, Atsumu and Osamu’s behavior wasn’t so different from before, if anything, you found yourself feeling awkward around them. Small talk in the hallways or the elevator weren’t your forte for neither the three of you, but conversations in the operating room were easier than ever.

Another concern brought by the twins had been for you to sit down and talk to Rintarō, not an easy task since you both had different schedules, and truth be told, you wouldn’t know what to tell him exactly.

Though this was the least of your concerns right now.

After finishing a laminectomy, you sighed, finally able to nap for an hour or so. Removing your cap and holding your white coat in your hand, you yawned as you were opening the door to an on-call room. You were convinced no one would be there as today was another off day for the hospital, but you got startled when hearing the ruffled sounds of sheets and clothes coming from a bed. You didn’t move for a hot second and proceeded to slide toward an empty bed.

“Y/N?” you heard from behind you and nearly bumped your head against the top bunk when you jumped in scare.

You turned around, eyes immediately meeting Rintarō’s. “You’re not naked this time,” you both huffed at your comment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that,” he apologized, sitting on the bed he’d been sleeping on when you came in. There were only the two of you in the on-call room.

“That’s fine, I’m exhausted I didn’t check if someone was there already. I’m sorry if I woke you, I didn’t mean too,” you removed your pager from your pants and put it down beside your coat, still standing in front of the bed.

Rintarō stretched his legs and back, leaning down and straightening back up.

“Hey, umm, I’m sorry for last time,” you sighed, fiddling with your cap.

“It’s fine, I overstepped, I’m sorry too,” he said in half a whisper. “And I saw you were busy with the boards exams and being chief resident, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“But you wouldn’t have, I guess,” you hesitated.

“I think it was best if you were the one to make the first move out of the two of us,” he chuckled, a small grin appearing on his face and you rolled your eyes in amusement.

“You are unbelievable.”

“Thanks, that makes another undeniable and great quality of mine,” you cut Rintarō off by throwing a pillow at him and snatched it back right away. “Don’t walk away,” he whined, “you were about to take nap, don’t you wanna lay down with me?”

But before you could reply, your pager bipped. You sighed, exhausted, but smiled nonetheless and grabbed your coat to put it back on.

“Can I still get a one minute hug, please?”

And without a word, Rintarō stood up and stepped closer to you, and instinctively you both leaned into each other’s arms, your head nuzzling into Rin’s chest as he tighten his hold on you. You’d be lying if you dared saying you didn’t miss this feeling, the safety of being held and handle with care, it was like laying underneath a comfort blanket during a particular storm, watching disaster breaking from outside while you were safe inside.

“I really have to go,” you mumbled.

“Just one more minute,” Rintarō groaned, his head diving into the crook of your neck.

“I’d love to,” you giggled and lifted your head to look at him, “but I can’t.”

“Okay then, go save lives.”

“Okay, see you around” you whispered, and Rintarō leaned in to peck your lips, a chaste kiss you gave into before slowly taking a step back and exit the on-call room, a smile tugging on your face.

You suddenly halted in the hallway, realizing not one, but two things. You forgot your pager, and… “Y/N!”

You pivoted, facing an obviously embarassed Rintarō, handing you your pager.

“T-Thanks, yeah, my pager, I’m gonna —” you stuttered.

“Listen, I —”

“Oh my, I really have to go,” you cut him off and turned on your heels.

… you and Rintarō kissed.

「 HEART’S CUTS 」 23. one minute hug

MASTERLIST – NEXT

– KEJNRUQUGGGFAA I’M MELTING

– funny story, I was writing the chapter and the app crashed 🙃🙃 and I almost forgot what I wrote and I wanted to bang my head against a wall but I’m incredible lol and I was able to deliver this chapter on time

TAGLIST IN THE REBLOGS

© BOKUTOYAOYA 2021. do not repost, copy, modify or translate any of my works. do not claim any of my works as your own.

[peachbear88]

If I Could Tell Her

A/N: Wow! Another song-inspired one-shot. "If I Could Tell Her" - Ben Platt. Also, this is a high-school AU.

Word count: 2,411

Wanda x Reader

--------------

"Yo, Y/N! Heads up!"

Your head whips around and you duck, moments before the football hits your face. Steve jogs towards you, scooping up the ball. "What happened? You get distracted by something you like?" He gestures to the rafters where at least a dozen girls sit, watching you with beady-eyes. "Who's that over there?" You ask, pointing to a girl sitting under the large willow tree. The sunlight seeped through the branches of the tree, hitting her auburn hair perfectly. She looks up and the two of you make eye contact. You turn away, blushing. "The girl under the tree?" You nod, unable to form coherent words. "That's Wanda Maximoff." Your eyes widen as you turn to gape at Steve. "As in...?" He nods sadly. "Yep. She hasn't been the same since Pietro died." Pietro Maximoff, former captain of your football team. Former, since he died in a horrific car accident. You didn't know he had a sister. Steve pats you on the back before running back onto the field and you prepare yourself for the ball, all while your mind is whirring from the person that is Wanda Maximoff.

-------

You spend the next few weeks observing her and her habits. With the big game coming up soon, you’re soon overwhelmed with practice but you still make time to watch over her. She enjoys eating lunch under the willow tree instead of the cafeteria, she shares at least 3 other classes with you and she spends her break periods in the library. You're watching her one day as she picks out a book and a hand taps you on the shoulder. "Jesus!" You jump, only to find Tony standing behind you. "Taken a liking to little Miss Maximoff eh?" He chuckles as you slap the back of his head. "Don't worry, I won't tell." He winks before slipping out of the library, leaving you to your own devices.

-------

"Alright class, we're switching up our partners!" You and about half the class groan as Steve grabs his bag, waving goodbye at you. You look at the seating chart he left behind scanning it until your eyes land on your name. You do a double take as you read the name beside yours. Wanda Maximoff. Your heart is pounding when she slips into Steve's old seat. You slap a perfect grin on your face before turning to her. "Hi." She ignores you, continuing to unpack her bag. You frown a little before resuming your efforts to start a conversation. "It's not very polite to ignore people." You tease cheekily, earning you a glare. "I know who you are. Piet would ditch me just to talk to you." Your smile falters. "I'm sorry about Pietro." She scoffs. "That's what everyone says. You didn't do anything. It's not your fault he's lying six-feet under." Your fingers rap against the wood of your desk as your teacher drones on about the Pythagorean theorem, wracking your brain for a way to appease her. “He talked about you a lot." You whisper and you see Wanda's prickly attitude dissipate. "He did?" You nod enthusiastically. It's a white lie. No harm no foul. From that moment onward, she seemed a lot less cold and even invited you to her house on Friday.

--------------------

Friday rolls around and the butterflies in your stomach have formed a mosh pit. Steve and Tony spend the day teasing you relentlessly as you fidget, your mind kicking into overdrive. Wanda meets you after school and you hitch a ride to her house. "This is it." She gestures to a small suburban house before pushing the door open. The smell of cinnamon and tea leaves hits your nose as you enter. "Mom, I'm going upstairs with Y/N!" She calls out before racing up the stairs. You pause for a moment as Mrs. Maximoff beckons to you, wiping her hands on her apron. You approach her and she gives you a soft smile. "I've never seen my daughter so happy. Whatever you said, thank you." You smile. reassuring her that it was nothing before hiking up the winding stairwell. By the time you reach the top of the stairs, Wanda has already gotten comfy on her bed, clicking through different movies. "Hey. What took you so long?" She teases, patting the empty spot next to her on the bed. "You have a lot of stairs." You reply defensively, plopping down next to her. She stares at you in disbelief. "You're on the football team and you struggle with stairs?" You glare at her. "I have a fear of them okay?" She looks at you, her lips pursed before bursting into laughter. "You- Fear of stairs? Wait 'till Rogers gets ahold of that." She gets out in between giggles. You gently slap her arm but you can't help but join her in laughing. She wipes the tears of joy from her eyes. "Thank you. I haven't laughed like that in a long time." You smile at her, slipping your arm through hers and resting it on her waist. She stiffens and for a moment, you think you went to far but she covers your hand with hers and leans against you. "What do you think of this show?" She asks, turning to see your response. You shrug indifferently as she starts the show but inside, fireworks explode and you do a little celebratory fist-pump in your mind.

-----------

The next few weeks are a bliss, save for the terrifying shadow of the upcoming game. Wanda's presence alleviates the terror and of course, Steve and Tony constantly tease the two of you as she eventually starts hanging out with you more during school hours. The day of the game comes crashing down. Throughout the day, you're palms are sweating and despite all the smiles and reassuring hand squeezes you receive from Wanda, you're still sweating buckets.

-----------

"Are you ready?"

You're clutching the guitar so tightly that you're sure it will snap.

"Yeah, I got this." You manage to say as Steve gives you a small hug.

"Good because the cheer team is done and they're calling you up." He whispers before shoving you into the school's football field. You stumble, glaring at him before jogging towards the principal who agreed to your surprise performance. Your eyes scan the crowds of people until they land on Wanda, who's cheering like crazy, little blue and green stripes painting her face. You smile in spite of yourself before talking to microphone from the principal. "Hi everybody. I uh... Before the game starts I just wanted to do a little gesture for somebody. A special somebody." You stutter, beads of sweat trickling down your forehead as hundreds of eyes stare at you expectantly. You take a deep breath before strumming the guitar gently.

"He said,"

"There's nothing like your smile, sort of subtle and perfect, and real."

"He said,"

"You never knew how wonderful that smile could make someone feel."

"And he knew,"

"Whenever you get bored you scribble stars on the cuffs of your jeans."

"And he noticed,"

"That you still fill out the quizzes that they put in those teen magazines."

"But he kept it all, inside his head."

"What he saw,"

"He left unsaid."

"And though he wanted to,"

"He couldn't talk to you."

"He couldn't find the way."

"But he would always say,"

"If I could tell her,"

"Tell her everything I see,"

"If I could tell her,"

"How she's everything to me."

"But we're a million worlds apart."

"I don't know how I would even start."

"If I could tell her."

"If I could tell her."

"He thought,"

"You looked really pretty, er uh..."

"It looked pretty cool when you put red streaks in your hair."

"And he wondered how you learned to dance like all the rest of the world isn't there."

"But he kept it all inside his head."

"What he saw, he left unsaid."

"If I could tell her,"

"Tell her everything I see."

"If I could tell her,"

"How she's everything to me."

"But we're a million worlds apart."

"I don't know how I would even start."

"If I could tell her."

"If I could tell her."

"But what do you do when there's this great divide?"

"And what do you do when the distance is too wide?"

"And how do you say,"

"I love you?"

"I love you."

"I love you!"

"I love you..."

"But we're a million worlds apart."

"I don't know how I would even start."

"If I could tell her."

"If I could..."

You strum a final chord, taking a deep breath before the crowd bursts into applause. You see Wanda, her hands covering her mouth and although she's too far away, you can almost make out the tears pricking her eyes. "Let's give it up for Y/N Y/L/N!" The principal roars before beckoning to the rest of the football team. "Now for the Westview Buffalos!" You fall in line with the football team, cramming the helmet onto your head and pretending not to see the confused glance Steve sends your way.

---------------

Your team wins the game by a landslide and as you all hustle into the changing room, Steve and Tony pull you aside. Tony is the first to confront you on your romantic gesture. "Damn, that was smooth! You gotta teach me how to do that." Steve on the other hand has his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he shoves Tony to the side. "I thought you said you didn't know Wanda was Pietro's sister before I told you?" You're about to answer when you see a familiar flash of auburn hair and you feel a cold blanket of dread wrap around you. "Shit." You mutter, shoving your two friends out of the way. "Wanda!" You sprint after her as she runs through the corridors of the school and into the parking lot. You manage to corner her at her car. She turns to face you, tears streaming down her face. "You liar!" She screams and you flinch. "You told me he talked about me! You told me he cared! You told me he..." Her voice falters before cracking. "You told me he noticed me." She whispers and your heart shatters. You step forward, attempting to hold her hand but she wrenches it away before gets into her car. "Don't ever, talk to me again." She snarls before speeding off into the night. You slowly fall to your knees. This was all your fault. You tried to repair her heart but instead, you smashed it apart, stepped on it and damaged it beyond repair.

---------

The next few days are spent with her avoiding you and you avoiding Steve and Tony. You continue to watch her from afar, making sure to not make yourself known. You're watching Wanda read under the willow tree when you feel a tap on your shoulder. It's Steve. He plops down next to you and before you can get up, Tony sits down on the other side of you, sandwiching you in between them. "Y/N..." Steve starts but you cut him off. "Steve, I already heard the whole spiel. I know what I did was wrong but I just wanted her to be happy." Steve slaps a hand over your mouth. "Let me finish. What you did was wrong but there's something you're missing." You raise your eyebrows as you gently lick his fingers causing him to swiftly remove them from your mouth. "Oh ew! Don't do that!" He shrieks causing you and Tony to laugh. "Then don't put your hand over my mouth." He rolls his eyes. "Anyways, she was genuinely happy when she was with you. She really loved you." Steve says, casting a sad glance at Wanda who was completely oblivious to the trio. "You have to make it up to her." Tony remarks wisely, giving you a gentle pat on the back before he and Steve leave.

-----------

You spend the rest of the day walking around in a daze, a plan formulating in your head.

--------

A pebble hits Wanda's window causing her to stir in her sleep. Another one hits the window and she groans in annoyance. At least 3 more pebbles hit the glass before she gets up, ready to give the culprit a piece of her mind. "Alright, I've had it!" She exclaims as she pries her eyes open but her rant slowly dies away in her throat. There you are, standing on her front lawn, a small pile of pebbles next to you. "Oh good. I thought I was going to have to use all of these." She snorts and goes to close the window but your desperate cry stops her. "Wait! Please let me explain." When she doesn't close the window, you out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "What I did was wrong." She scoffs but doesn't say anything. "I wanted to ease the pain but I just ended up hurting you more. That song, he may not have noticed all those things but I did." Her harsh glare softens a little and in that moment, you allow yourself a little hope. "You may be hurt right now but I want to be the one that gets to love you, the one that gets to care for you, the one that provides a safe haven for you. The one that you can let inside your walls. I hurt you and I know it will take some time for you to recover but I will wait for as long as you need." You pause, gauging her reaction before continuing. "Will you please, give me a chance?" The small ball of hope growing inside you is instantly crushed when she closes the window. You sigh before trudging back to your car but you stop in your tracks when you hear a familiar voice. "Y/N!" You whip around to see Wanda running straight at you, a blazing look on her face. Your first thought is that she's going to tackle you and beat you up but instead, she launches herself at you and wraps you in a tight embrace. You melt a little as you wrap your arms around her. "I'm willing to give you another chance." She whispers and the butterflies inside you explode with joy. You pull away from her to stare into her deep emerald eyes. "Thank you." You mutter before leaning forward and meeting her halfway in a gentle kiss under the stars.

--------------

WOAHHHH!!! DAMN!!!!! Another one-shot! I really, really like writing one-shots now... Maybe I'll do some more highschool AUs. I'm personally, pretty proud of this one.

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife

[wisteria-lodge]

bunt badger primary + burnt prepwork secondary

hi... let's just jump into it, then. when i was young i was pretty much the quintessential Badger (at least i think i was), always kind and ready to help whoever, but then i burned and was like damn, i can't do this anymore? there's too many people and it's all so tiring and i can't help anyone if i'm also not getting any help (depression moment). and i definitely feel guilty about it all, whenever there's someone who's hurt and i can't help i'll always have a pang in my heart like damn i wish i could help.

You sound like a Burnt Badger, for sure.

but if a friend's in trouble i'll immediately jump up to help and i'm like woah! kinda Snakey!

Badger can and do give *preference* to their friends and people they like (especially if they're running out of bandwidth) (I mean Badgers are human.) But a Snake feels like they're doing the good correct moral thing when they prioritize helping Their People, while a Badger is more "i't's unfair that someone gets their help just because I happen to like them/know them better."

honestly i've always been a really selfish person. like a lot of the stuff i do is just for myself, or for the people i'm close to. if i'm not happy then what's the point of life? so i think i'm a Snake primary with maybe a Badger model?

I think you're a slightly burnt Badger primary. Snake primaries ain't this guilty. This is just normal people stuff. It's the Burnt Badgers who call themselves "selfish."

(I have gotten submissions from Burnt Badgers who sound like Victorian children's book protagonists and then go "But why am I so selfish?)

(Victorian children's book protagonists are the most unselfish people I could think of.)

it's the secondary that gets me though. with the depression well things got hard and doing stuff??? damn, that's so hard.

So you've had a period of depression, and burning goes along with depression, so that's going to make this trickier.

maybe sometimes i charge in without thinking and sometimes i plan, sometimes i toil and sometimes i adapt on the spot, but none of it feels like a proper method i use.

This sounds really really burned. You're just doing stuff to do stuff.

though, i used to think no way i was a Badger secondary because in my head i was like "wow hard work??? i hate doing work! i let all my schoolwork pass the deadlines and barely passed most of my subjects!"

Not enough info. This could easily be caused by a hundred different things.

but then i suppose if it's fandom stuff i do sometimes do projects that sometimes doesn't really get attention or rewards but that i personally am interested in. but i still like, make spreadsheets and quizzes just for the heck of it.

Probably a prep-work secondary then, if you're making spreadsheets for fun.

if people will like it. i mean, it's sure tiring not to get any recognition.

I think you need to get yourself a nice little community. A small one. You'll dive yourself crazy trying to get your emotional community needs from nebulous "people." That will never, ever be enough.

i do wonder if doing all this work in the background is Badgery... because there's no other secondary i can think of myself being lmao. also i feel like i sometimes do the mirroring thing? when talking to people? to make them comfortable.

Yeah, that could definitely be Badger.

if theyre being mean to me ill speak in the same tone too. idk.

What, if they're mean to you, you're mean to them right back? That's not really mirroring, because that's just a problem-solving strategy. That's just being human.

the secondary is weird for me since my ideal life is just chilling without having to worry about anything lmaoo.

Again, that's just human being. Not all human beings, but for sure a lot of them. And a lot of Badger primaries especially.

anyway sorry if any of this was hard to understand or anything.

... and the burnt secondary apology.

i feel like i already came in knowing what i am but i wanted to get a second opinion anyway sjkahjkhf thanks for what you do!!

You're welcome. Find some good people. I hope your secondary feels better soon.

[gimmesumsuga]

Ps. I woof you

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 26K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh alright, alright, alright…"

  ****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.  Oh shit.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh god, why now?!  Why you?!  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, fate can go fuck herself.  Fickle bitch. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There you go apologising again… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pregnancy.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Milk?  Sugar?”  

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

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

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

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

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

“You think we should sell them?”  

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

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

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

In short, it's frickin adorable.  

"Oh my god!" you squeal before you can help yourself, stealing the phone from Yoongi's grasp to get an even closer look. You keep scrolling through Google images and you swear each puppy is even cuter than the last, knees bouncing under the counter as your thumb relentlessly swipes.  

You totally miss the fondness with which Yoongi observes your excitement.  He's usually rather possessive over his tech, but you're just so enthusiastic he can't bring himself to cut your 'ooh-ing' and 'aww-ing' short - especially given how miserable you looked when you first arrived.  "They're so adorable, oh my gosh."

"I don't think we'll have any trouble finding buyers if they come out looking like that," he says, slipping his phone back into his pocket once you coyly handed it back, careful to avoid the brushing of your fingers. 

"No, you're probably right." If anything, you'll probably have trouble giving them up yourself!  Yoongi returns safely to the other side of the counter, smiling softly as he picks up his cup in both hands and takes another sip.  

"We'll figure it out," he assures you, and somehow, despite all your anxieties and doubts, there's something about Yoongi's voice that makes you put all your faith in him.  

Mind now at rest, the two of you chat whilst you finish your coffees, not just about the dogs but other things as well; his impressive home entertainment system, your plans for Christmas and various theories about the strange Mr Jung who lives alone on the floor below and yet can be heard shouting all hours of the day.  

It feels so easy to talk to him.  Familiar, almost.  Like you and Yoongi knew each other in a past life and have somehow found one another again.  

Or maybe you're just a hopeless romantic who's reading way too much into things but hey, you're not hurting anyone.  Just yourself, maybe, and you can live with that.  

"Thanks for the coffee," you smile as the conversation reaches a natural lull.  You're reluctant to leave but you'd rather not risk overstaying your welcome and turn what has been a lovely interaction sour.  

"Any time," Yoongi smiles in return.  This time you don't manage to avoid the brushing of your fingers as you hand your coffee cup back, and as your fingertips touch you end up pressing your thighs together under the counter from the thrill that runs through you.  Thank god he doesn't see it, lest Yoongi realises just how sexually deprived you've been since you and your ex broke up.  

Better leave now whilst you still have some semblance of self-control left. 

"Ok Rem, time to head on home," you call, slipping off the stool.  You pause, expecting to hear the jingling of the bell on her collar as she trots her way over to you, but nothing comes. "Remi?" You make your way into the living room only to find her curled up with Holly in that same spot on the sofa as last time, and if she heard you then she's certainly not acting as though she did.  "Rem, c'mon, gotta go."  Lazily, they lift their heads in perfect unison and yet Remi remains unmoving, yawning and stretching as Holly rolls onto his back.  

Glancing behind you, you ensure Yoongi is well out of earshot before squatting down so that you and Remi are eye to eye.  

"Look, I don't want to go either, but we don't want to overstay our welcome now, do we?" you whisper quietly, giving her fair warning before you slip your hands under her fuzzy little body and lift her from the seat. 

"Don't be sad." You almost jump out of your skin when you suddenly hear Yoongi right behind you, very nearly dropping Remi in your haste to turn around.  Apparently, Yoongi isn't a great believer in personal space (or else is oblivious to it) because he's close enough that he doesn't have to move an inch in order to reach out and stroke her fur, smiling. "We'll see each other soon," he reassures, looking up at you before adding, "Won't we?" 

"Yeah, definitely," you confirm, nodding like an idiot, and as though she understands Remi gives a little low rumble of contentment as she leans her head back against your chest, exposing her chin for scratches that Yoongi can't resist supplying.  

"I'll come fetch her for her walk tomorrow as normal." Yoongi pauses as he withdraws his affection, scratching behind his ear and keeping his eyes on Remi as he asks, "You are working tomorrow, aren't you?" 

Instantly, your cheeks flush with heat as you realise his intention for asking. "Y-yeah." God forbid he almost walk in on you semi-nude all over again… "Thanks." 

"No problem," he smiles, meeting your gaze.  You shyly return his smile, unable to think of anything more to say as he sees you to the door except to wish him goodbye, blushing once more when he quietly utters it back along with your name. 

It should be criminal for someone so good looking to have a voice so sexy.  How's a girl supposed to stand a chance?  Even when you're no longer in his presence, you can't stop thinking about him; his calm demeanour, his subtle smiles, the warmth he exudes around both Remi and Holly.  If he were just attractive that would be one thing, but now you're getting to know him more, little by little… boy, you're in trouble. 

And Remi doesn't seem to be faring much better, either.  Every small noise from next door that could possibly be her four-legged love has her pacing and whining, so eager to go to see him that every time you come home you have to be careful she doesn't dart out into the hallway between your legs and go scratching at Yoongi's door.  

Apparently, Remi's not concerned with the notion of looking desperate, which is why one evening when you come home and you're met with nothing more than silence and an empty apartment, you're more than just a little worried.  

Has she climbed her way out onto the balcony?  Shimmied across the window ledges mission impossible style in a desperate attempt to reach Holly next door?  

Unlikely, but you follow your gut instinct anyway and head over to Yoongi's as calmly as you can.  You take a deep, steadying breath as you knock on his door, trying to keep the rising sense of panic at bay.  You've already had a not so great day at work - too many customers with not enough manners.  The last thing you need now is a missing dog to add to the list.  

"Have you seen Remi?" you blurt out as soon as the door starts to open, frowning from the headache throbbing at the back of your skull.  "I just got home and she's not there and-" 

Yoongi's mouth opens but he has the chance to speak, the sound of Remi's bell does all the talking for him, jingling loudly as she comes running towards the door.  

"Hey you!" Your knees click as you bend down to fuss her, one hand on the hem of your skirt to make sure it doesn't ride up too far. "You scared me!"  Remorseless, Remi flops onto her side and cocks her leg up in invitation for you to stroke her stomach.  It's slowly starting to expand underneath all the fuzz, and despite your recent panic you still can't help but smile to feel it.  

"Sorry, should've left a note." Behind you, you hear the front door click shut.  Remi quickly has her fill of tummy rubs, and as she runs away back to Holly, you stand up straight and turn to Yoongi, endeared by the uneasy expression on his face and the awkwardness with which he shoves his hands into his pockets. "I keep hearing her whining after I've dropped her off, so I figured it wouldn't hurt for her to just stay a while longer 'till you get home." 

God, there he goes again being an absolute sweetheart. 

"Shouldn't have just assumed," he apologises but you're quick to wave it off, smiling.  

"Not at all.  Just glad she's safe." Yoongi smiles, hands coming out of his pockets, and as he walks on past you into the kitchen you're suddenly hit with the smell of cooking; onions and garlic and a sweet-smelling sauce.  

"You hungry?" he asks as he approaches the stove.  

You can't resist the opportunity to take a really good look at him whilst his back is turned; the epitome of effortless style in his open plaid shirt and skinny jeans.  He's barefoot, you realise, and you're not sure why you find that so attractive but you're not about to go analysing it now. Not when he's turned to look at you so expectantly - almost like you've completely missed something he's just said in favour of ogling how nicely the pockets of his jeans frame each of his perfect little butt cheeks.  

"Sorry?" you ask stupidly.  

"I always make too much," he says, mercifully turning back to his frying pan quick enough that he might have missed the blush on your cheeks. "Plenty to go around.  If you want." 

Wait.  Is Yoongi… Asking you to stay for dinner?  And do your eyes deceive you, or is the back of his neck turning a delightful shade of pink as he waits for you to answer?  

No.  No, that'd just be ridiculous.  You're just leaping to conclusions - presumptuous and delusional - but then… why are there already two place settings laid out on his small dining table?  Why is there an extra wine glass standing empty on the counter next to the one that's only half full?  

Did he… plan this out?  Hell, if he did, you're not about to go looking a gift horse in the mouth.  Fighting back a nervous smile, you remove your cardigan and hang it over the back of one of his bar stools as casually as you can. 

"Sure," you agree, untucking your blouse from your skirt before sliding onto the same stool to watch Yoongi plate up. "Smells a lot better than anything I could cook up." Would it be too much to go unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your blouse too?  Show a little skin?  

You're reaching to do just that when suddenly Yoongi turns around with his frying pan in hand and you promptly chicken out, clearing your throat.  From behind you, Holly and Remi come running into the room, and Yoongi gets distracted when your little lady starts pawing at his leg, vying for attention.  

"You want another treat, huh?" With his free hand, he plucks a little brown ball off of a baking tray by the sink and promptly throws it up in the air for Remi to catch, and as soon as it's within her jaws she lies down and merrily begins to chomp, crunching and munching away.  

"What's that?" you enquire as Yoongi recommences dishing up, spooning a chicken and vegetable something or other onto a bed of rice.  It's a good job you're not a fussy eater or else you might be slightly alarmed that he hasn't even told you what you're having…"The treat, I mean."  He looks up from sliding his frying pan into soapy water already waiting in the sink, glancing down at Remi.  

"Just some recipe I found online," he explains, casual as ever.  He brings over the wine glass you'd noticed earlier and offers to fill it with a tilt of the bottle, doing so when you nod.  "She needs the extra calories."

"You made them yourself?" you ask, incredulous that Yoongi would go so far and be so considerate as to go searching for homemade doggie treats.  He nods somewhat bashfully, avoiding your gaze as he carries both your plates over to the table and takes a seat. "You're unbelievable," you laugh before you can help yourself, wine glass cradled in both hands as you join him at the table.  

Perhaps it might be best not to drink too much of said wine.  Seems your tongue is loose enough already without adding extra lubrication.  

“I just mean-” You hasten to explain your brazen compliment, not missing the way Yoongi’s eyebrows lift in surprise when you reach for chopsticks rather than the knife and fork he’d placed beside your plate. “- My ex couldn’t even be bothered to learn how to use the washing machine, nevermind bake little organic dog treats in his spare time.”

Glancing over at Remi, you see her standing on her hind legs against the kitchen cupboards in desperate hope for more, and damn, now you’ve gotten a taste of Yoongi’s cooking you can totally understand why! 

“Oh my god ,” you groan around your mouthful, chopsticks clicking frantically as you gather up the next, completely distracted from whatever the hell it was you were just saying.  

“It wasn’t all organic,” you hear Yoongi mumble, cheeks pink as he takes a sip of his wine.  Is that just a little alcohol-induced flush you spy?  Or is he secretly flattered?  “Just the peanut butter.”  You smile, chewing ceaselessly as Yoongi deposits one very large mouthful into his not-nearly-so-small-as-it-looks mouth.  He fills his cheeks so full that for a few glorious seconds he resembles some kind of adorable human/hamster hybrid; so cute you just want to reach out and- 

"Always had your ex pegged as kind of an asshole, to be honest," Yoongi admits, eyes focused on his plate, and it's not so much the talking with his mouth full that has you nearly choking on your food - it's the bluntness with which he does it.  He looks up as you splutter, reaching for your wine. "No offence." He looks mildly alarmed as you cough once more. "It's just I used to hear him all the time through the walls, shouting his mouth off." 

"None taken," you wheeze, taking a sip of wine to clear the tickle that's left in your throat.  Your eyes are watering and no doubt your face is red, but that's the least of your worries right now, mortified to imagine just how many arguments Yoongi must've overheard during all the time that douchebag was part of your life.  

"Sorry if I'm overstepping the mark…" You shake your head quickly, waving off his concerns as Remi and Holly come trotting over as though to check on you.  Not that you're so naive as to really believe that - no doubt they're here to scavenge scraps off of the table rather than to ensure your wellbeing.  

"Not at all," you chuckle, "Asshole is probably putting it lightly.  Never really have had the best taste in men." Yoongi exhales a breathy laugh, smiling wryly.  

"Gotta kiss a few frogs to find the Prince, right?" You end up smiling even harder at that, snorting into your wine.   A few is probably an understatement, but that's not information Yoongi needs to know.  

"Sure he'll turn up one day," you muse, sounding ever so slightly wistful.  Your eyes meet Yoongi's from across the table and a beat passes, no words said as the two of you look at one another.  You don't dare move - even breathe - lest you risk breaking… whatever this moment between you may be. 

Unexpectedly, you feel soft fur against the bare skin of your leg and it startles you despite knowing full well what it is.  When you look down, you see Remi staring at you meaningfully, her eyes locked with yours even as she trots her way to the other end of the table to paw at Yoongi's leg, asking for a fuss.  

'I like this one, ' her eyes seem to say as Yoongi reaches down to pet her, smiling fondly, 'You should give this one a try.'

Oh, if only. 

“We can do this more often if you want,” Yoongi offers as his attention returns to his food.  “I don’t mind watching her ‘till you get back from work.”   

“Are you sure?” Once again you’re floored by Yoongi’s casual generosity.  He doesn’t even look up as he bobs his head in confirmation, his mouth too full to respond. 

“She’s no trouble,” he tells you once he’s eventually swallowed, “And Holly likes having her around.”  

“That’d be amazing,” you smile, “Thank you.”  He returns your smile - small, short and sweet - and you swear each and every time he flashes you a grin you end up falling just that little bit more.  

"Does that mean I have even more delicious dinners to look forward to?" you ask, surprising yourself with how flirty you sound.  How brave.  

Yoongi laughs at your forwardness, sputtering into his wine.  You don't really expect him to answer - assume he'll just laugh it off and not say anything at all - but Yoongi looks rather serious as he puts down his glass; his gaze so intense that for a second you actually forget how to chew.  

"If you're lucky," he promises, and oh boy, you hope you will be. "But next time, you bring the wine." 

  And so, you do.  

Every night throughout the week that follows, you pay a visit to the corner store on your way home to pick up a bottle of white, or rose, or red.  You're fairly certain the cashier might suspect you of having some sort of drinking problem, actually, but Yoongi's been so grateful that you can't stand the thought of turning up empty-handed.  And It’s not even as though you always drink the whole bottle, anyway.  It’s just a glass with dinner on Wednesday and Thursday, and then one extra on Friday and Saturday when Yoongi invites you to stay a little longer.  

And ok, so maybe he doesn’t actually ask you to stay, but when a guy starts asking whether you’ve seen this new show he really likes and turns on Netflix, what are you supposed to think?  

You end up thoroughly enjoying the hours you waste away sitting at the opposite end of his sofa with Remi in your lap, even the lazy Sunday evening that Yoongi spends watching some god-awful competitive fishing show that you pretend to like just because it makes him smile.  

It’s funny how simple a creature Yoongi turns out to be, considering how mysterious he’d first seemed.  He’s a man of few words but what he does say is always interesting, and you’d like to think you’ve gotten to know him pretty well as the week’s gone by.  He’s considerate and hard-working, introverted and yet speaks so fondly of the few friends he professes to have.  He loves music and fishing, cooking and expensive wine, and when he’s tipsy his voice gets even slower and deeper - his tone so dulcet that you could happily listen to him talk all night. 

By the end of the week you’ve spent more time in Yoongi’s apartment than you have your own, and you won’t pretend for even a second that you’ve thought that it’s a bad thing.  You’re well and truly smitten; the favourite part of your day now the moment you come home and have both Yoongi and the dogs there to greet you, even though that home is not your own.  

Picturing that - thinking of him - is the only thing that’s gotten you through the shittiness of your last few hours at work.  You really do enjoy your job, for the most part, but some days are inevitably better than others and today… today was a bad, bad, bad day.  The kind of bad day that has you searching the liquor aisle for the whisky with the highest volume of alcohol you can possibly find - the same bottle that you later slam down on Yoongi’s kitchen counter having already let yourself into his apartment, sighing every step of the way.  

“Bad day?” he asks, not yet having turned around to see the miserable look on your face.  You can’t bring yourself to say anything, too focused on trying to hold yourself together after having struggled to do so all afternoon, so you stay quiet as you give Remi the fussing she’s after.  Her tail is wagging with a glee you’re envious of, her fuzzy tummy growing more and more round by the day.  

“I can make this Irish if you want.”  You look up to see Yoongi standing beside you with a mug of coffee held in both hands and a soft smile on his face, and suddenly it’s just all too much.  The dam inside you that’d slowly begin to crack throughout the day finally bursts at the sight of him - overcome with emotion at having him treat you so kindly after having faced such rudeness and meanness for hours on end.  

“I’m sorry!” you squeak out as you burst into tears, your elbows meeting the counter as your face falls into your hands, not wanting to have Yoongi see you cry.  You can’t see anything with your eyes so tightly screwed shut, but if you could you’d witness the look of shock appear on Yoongi’s face - see his eyes widen and his lips slightly part as the rest of him freezes, unsure of what to do.  

You really try your best to stem your tears, but you’re so embarrassed to have him see you like this that it only makes you cry harder, shoulders trembling as you curl in on yourself in an attempt to hide.  

“I just h-had such a h-h-horrible day,” you sob, “This one w-woman - this bitch - she was s-so m-mean and she wouldn’t just-”  You abruptly stop speaking as an arm is suddenly laid across your shoulders, and before you realise what’s happening you’re being pulled into an embrace; your face nestled into a soft sweater.  

“Hey, hey,” you're gently shushed, and it’s not so much that Yoongi's comforting you that helps to calm you down, nor the feel of one of his large hands rubbing up and down the length of your back.  It’s more the shock of having Yoongi actually touch you that allows you to finally start catching your breath, your hands unknowingly reaching out to hold onto him.  “Whatever happened, it’s over now, right?  It’ll be ok,” he soothes.  

“Uh-huh,” you whisper into fabric, silently praying that your nose hasn’t run all over it, and although you’re no longer crying you allow yourself a moment more to enjoy the feel of his arms around you.  He smells wonderful - his slight body warm and firm pressed against you - and all you want to do is tighten your grip on his sweater and pull him even closer; tilt your head to skim your lips against his throat.  

“You ok?” Yoongi asks, and as you finally lift your head and dab away the moisture from under your eyes the last thing you expect is to feel his fingers fleetingly touch your hair.  You meet his gaze and the concern you see there is almost enough to make you start crying all over again - but then you watch as his pupils dart back and forth, up and down as he scans your face - and suddenly… suddenly you're kissing him. 

Or is it him who's kissing you? 

You're not sure who it is that makes the first move, but regardless of whoever the instigator may be, your mouths still meet in the middle.  Yoongi's lips are soft but his kiss is firm - purposeful - and utterly takes your breath away.  You make a grab for him again, clutching at the fabric at his hip to keep him close as you sweep your tongue across the seam of his lips, Yoongi's hands coming to rest upon your face.  They're so warm, so gentle as he traces your cheekbones with his thumbs, and-

All too soon he's pulling away, brought to his senses the moment he feels the moisture that lingers on your cheeks, and the quiet whine of protest that you're unable to hold back has your face burning with shame.  

"S-sorry," he rapidly stammers out as he stumbles back out of reach, retreating to the other side of the counter; a barrier between you.  His cheeks are flushed with the same heat as yours, unable to meet your eyes as he wipes at the corner of his mouth with his thumb and then rubs the side of his neck. "I didn't mean… I mean… you…" 

Oh lord, this is awkward.  So, so awkward!  What the hell did you have to go and kiss him for?!  He looks so painfully uncomfortable right now that you're sure he'd rather melt into the floor than look at you, and oh my god you're such an idiot!  What kind of moron goes snogging someone's face off at the slightest bit of physical contact?  Are you really that touch deprived?! 

"Sorry," he repeats, "You're upset-" You're already up and out of your stool before Yoongi even has the chance to finish his sentence.  

"I should just go," you blurt out as you pick Remi up off the floor and into your arms despite her huffed exhale of protest.  You're being a coward, you know that, but you're too fragile right now to go through the whole 'let you down gently' routine without sobbing all over again - especially if it's coming from someone you're so crazy about.  

No, you'd rather just see yourself out now and save him the bother.  Best for everyone if you just pretend this never happened… 

"Thanks for watching her."  You're moving too quickly for him to protest - to do anything but stand with his mouth agape as you race for the front door like the very flames of hell are licking at your heels.  

"Don't forget your-!" you hear Yoongi call, pulling the front door shut behind you too fast to make out the end of his sentence.  You scurry down the hall back to your own apartment, and it’s only as you’re struggling to get inside with Remi still balanced on your hip that you realise your hands are lightly shaking.  

“Never happened,” you mumble to yourself once you finally get the blasted thing open, relinquishing Remi from where she’d begun to wriggle and squirm in your grasp.  “Never happened.  It was just one stupid, silly kiss.”  You lean back against your front door, exhaling a sigh.  “Just… forget about it.”  

And oh, you really try.  You try everything and anything you can think of to get Yoongi off of your mind, but nothing works; not mindless trash TV, not blasting your favourite tunes while you’re in the shower - not finishing off the bottle of wine leftover from the night before last.  If anything, alcohol just makes things ten times worse.  As you lie on your bed amidst a tipsy haze, all you can think about is the way his lips felt pressed to yours and of how he tasted like the coffee you hadn’t had the chance to drink.  The low noise he’d made in the back of his throat when you’d grabbed at his clothes.  It was so hot… he’s so hot, and more than anything you just want to go back there right now and- 

You groan aloud in frustration, raking your fingers through your hair to keep them from finding their way into your pants.  God, you’re so royally fucked - and not in the way you’re wishing you were - but you’re too far tired and conflicted and just… sad to want to masturbate, no matter how fiercely Yoongi’s kiss may have made you ache.   So you ignore it, cocoon yourself in your duvet whilst Remi snores at your feet, and will yourself to fall asleep whilst silently reassuring yourself that tomorrow is another day.  

Come the next morning (which is mercifully hangover free), you ready yourself for work repeating just that.  Today has to be better - or at least it can't get much worse - and what happened with Yoongi was just… a blip.  Carelessness on your part.  And knowing Yoongi as you now do, you’re sure he’ll be far too much of a gentleman to mention it anyway.  

That’s if he doesn’t ghost you entirely, of course, which is a legitimate possibility.  

Luckily, your day does turn out a whole lot better than the one that came before; a small mercy, given how worked up you've been worrying about where to expect to find Remi once you get home.  Whether it be in your apartment or Yoongi's, you're unsure which option would be preferable.   If she's waiting at Yoongi's you'll have no choice but to go over there and face the consequences of last night's actions - a thought you by no means relish - but if she's at yours… well, you suppose that might just be even worse.    

You’re not too proud to admit that Yoongi's help with Remi has been invaluable over the past weeks, and if you're being honest, his friendship has too.  You can't imagine going back to the way it was before: barely seeing one another, exchanging nothing but awkward smiles in the hallway.  If he were to walk out of your life now you would really, really miss him - to say the least.  And that's… kind of terrifying.  

At heart, though, you’re a positive person, and you want to believe that things will just carry on the way they have before.  And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but your hope is what has you stopping by the same old corner store on the way home and picking up a bottle of wine from a brand you know Yoongi likes, just as you’ve done so many times before.  And maybe it might be considered hedging your bets, but after the grocery store you head across the street to one of the local takeout places, too.  You know Yoongi’s all about meat, meat and more meat when it comes to food, so it’s not hard for you to figure out what to order; lamb skewers, tempura shrimp, spicy pork belly.  Some of it you don’t even like yourself, so you hope to god Remi’s waiting at Yoongi’s and not at yours otherwise there’s a hell of a lot of food about to go to waste.

You order so much, in fact, that your arms are aching by the time you get home - though that does nothing to distract you from the way your heart starts to gallop when it comes time to put your keys in the lock and open up your front door.   You hold your breath as it swings open, eyes closing for a second as you pray not to hear the click-clack of Remi’s claws on the floor, and when nothing comes you sigh with relief, never so glad to be greeted by an empty home.  

“Thank the lord,” you murmur as you place everything down on the kitchen table, figuring you may as well use this chance to quickly get changed and freshen up before heading next door.  Normally you’d just go round in your work clothes, and truthfully there’s nothing actually wrong with what you’re already wearing, but you appreciate just a little bit of extra time to mentally prepare.

Not that it helps, of course.   Whether in a skirt or jeans, you’re crapping your pants just as much as you knock on his door but you plaster a smile on your face nonetheless, holding aloft your wine and takeout bags as the door starts to open.  

“Hi,” you beam as Yoongi appears, “I brought goodies!”  He looks mildly taken aback by the sight of you and how bubbly you sound - even more so when you stride forward to enter without him yet having said a word.  “You’re not cooking yet,” you observe as you enter the kitchen and hear the front door shut behind you, Yoongi’s soft footfalls across the floor following shortly after, “Good.”  

You turn on the spot, grinning inanely as you try not to make it too obvious that you’re checking him out.  Must he really look so effortlessly stylish all the time?   He even has that whole ‘just got out of bed’ ruffled hair thing going on, and god, you hate him for how badly it makes you want to run your fingers through it to see if it’s as soft as it looks.  

“Where’s Rem?” you ask before your thoughts run too far amok, tearing your eyes away from him in favour of peering over his shoulder towards the living room.  

“Think they’re in my room,” he explains, fingers fiddling with the arm of the glasses he’s wearing and then straying into his hair to scratch at his scalp.  He must’ve been in his studio prior to your arrival - it’s the only time you really ever see him wearing his glasses.  “She’s been acting kinda weird today.”  

Frowning, you follow after him as he leads you down the hallway towards his bedroom.  You try not to focus on the fact that this will have been the first time you’ve seen it, or mourn that now that you are it’s in less-than-sexy circumstances.  

“What do you mean ‘weird’?” 

“Just… restless, I guess.  She didn’t wanna walk but I had to stop her scratching up the carpet ‘cus she keeps wanting to dig.”  He pushes open the door and immediately you gasp, freezing in the doorway.  Yoongi sighs heavily, surveying the damage before him.  “And ruin my bedding, apparently.”  

To be fair, it's not really that bad - and you're not just saying that because Remi's your dog and you're a wee bit overprotective, either.  Yes, there's one pillow that's been pulled off the bed and had its stuffing ripped out, but aside from that all that's really moved is his sheets, and whilst they've been pulled into a heap the floor there doesn't appear to be any other damage or… bodily fluids amidst them.  

"Oh Rem, what've you been up to?" you coo, kneeling down beside the heap of blankets that the two dogs are curled up amongst.  Holly comes alive at the sound of your voice, instantly perking up, and within seconds he's on his feet and visiting you and Yoongi in turn for a scratch behind the ears.  Remi, however, is somewhat lazier in her response.  She lifts her head slowly, emitting a pathetic little sound as she gazes up at you, pointed ears pressed back against the top of her head.  

"What's wrong girl?" Concerned, you're cautious in the way you put your hands on her, but you're relieved to find she's just as eager to receive affection as ever.  It's only when you run your hand across her belly that she seems to object, her small body tensing.  

"She's been in here for a couple hours," Yoongi informs you as he comes to kneel beside you on the carpet. "I tried to feed her dinner but she wasn't interested - thought it might've been something to do with her throwing up earlier on." 

"You think we should call the vet?" Yoongi shakes his head as Holly comes to reclaim his spot next to his lady friend.  Snuggling in close, he gives her an affectionate lick.  

"I thought about it," he admits, giving Remi's head a gentle pat, "But I don't think she's sick.  I think she's in labour." 

"Really?" Now that you think about it, the time frame does seem about right.  You just hadn't expected it to happen so soon… 

"Called my brother and he seems to think so." Looking up from Remi your gaze meets Yoongi's, and you figure it must show on your face how overwhelmed you're feeling because the smile that he gives you is a kind one.  

"So, what do we do?" you ask, sinking back from your knees and onto your bottom instead, crossing your legs.  Yoongi copies you, and for a second your eyes dart to the expanse of skin that's revealed to you through the rip in his jeans, right across the thigh.  

"Not much, apparently.  Not unless something goes wrong and Remi needs a hand."  You feel anxiety twist your expression and Yoongi brow furrows in sympathy, his fingers drumming against his knees.  "We've just gotta sit and wait." You chuckle mirthlessly, rolling your eyes.  

"Never really been the patient type." Yoongi smiles, rising to his feet and placing his hand on your shoulder as he goes, giving it a squeeze that makes your stomach go topsy-turvy.  

"I guess I better go get us some supplies to keep us going then, huh?" 

"That'd be good," you smile, blushing as he squeezes it once more before finally letting go.  You turn back to Remi as he leaves the room, worrying your bottom lip until you unexpectedly hear him call your name.  He lingers in the doorway, one hand on the frame.  

"Everything's gonna be fine," he assures you. "Trust me." And somehow, without question, you do.  

  It's a little odd, really, how effortlessly things have gone back to normal considering what went on between you last night.  Perhaps it's the pressure of the unfamiliar situation you've been thrust into that's redirected your attention elsewhere and thereby alleviated the tension. Or maybe it was just never as big of a deal as you'd made it out to be in your head.  Either way, you're grateful.  

That's not to say there's no tension at all, mind, but rather than making things feel uncomfortable it's more like… like there's a charge between you.  A spark.  You can feel it all the while you're sat eating dinner together cross-legged on his bedroom floor, lips tingling from how spicy (albeit delicious) the food is.  Coy smiles and stolen glances are made amongst idle chit-chat, distracting you from the waves of worry that rise and then recede with each little sound that Remi makes which turn out to be nothing.  

You've no idea how long labour usually tends to last for dogs, but you can only hope that if or when you ever decide to have children, that you handle it just as quietly and calmly as Remi.  You hope whoever you’re with is attentive as Holly, too, and you know that’s an odd thing to think but you can’t help but admire the way he is with her; laying patiently just a few feet away, his attention unwavering.  

Technically you know it isn’t the norm for the ‘daddy dog’ to be around while his bitch is giving birth (or at least so Yoongi had said), just in case his presence made Remi nervous or agitated, but these pair seem to be a bit an anomaly in that respect.  When Yoongi had tried to extract Holly from the room prior to eating dinner, Remi had gotten more restless than ever and so you’d been forced to let him back in despite all the guidance advising the contrary.  You’ll just have to keep an extra close eye on him when the puppies actually arrive, you suppose, though you know you can rely on Yoongi to keep him in line.  

And to be fair, it seems as though you’re able to rely on Yoongi an awful lot in general these days.  Having been so preoccupied with your new job you’ve done shamefully little research as to what to expect and how to prepare for Remi to give birth, naively believing that you still had plenty of time to spare. 

Lucky for you, Yoongi seems to have everything handled; the ‘supplies’ he’d previously mentioned turning out to be a heap of freshly washed towels, shiny surgical scissors and some sort of sucker device - the likes you imagine to be used for clearing snotty babies noses.  You eye it nervously as you finish your last mouthful of shrimp, silently hoping you won’t need anything other than the towels and a little bit of luck.  

“Thanks for dinner.”  You drag your eyes away from the scissors, Yoongi’s voice having interrupted your thoughts.  

“No worries,” you reply, smiling gratefully as Yoongi takes your empty plate from your hands to stack it on top of his own.  He puts them aside for a moment as he dutifully tidies everything away, putting the empty food cartons back into the plastic bag from whence they came.  “About time I returned the favour.”  Yoongi smiles wryly, no doubt too polite to point out that buying takeout and preparing a home-cooked meal isn’t quite the same thing.  

“To be honest,” he says, using his preoccupation as a good excuse to avoid your gaze, “I wasn’t sure whether you were even going to come over tonight.”  

Well, there goes the hope that you’d get through the evening without last night’s faux pas being mentioned.  

“Well, it’s not like I could just leave Remi here…” you mumble, glancing away as Yoongi sits back down beside you having finished clearing up.  You don’t want him to think that that’s the only reason you came but you’re not sure what else to say, fidgeting nervously with the hem of your sleeves.  

There’s a moment of silence - a pause long enough that it prompts you to look up, and when you do you see that Yoongi looks just as nervous as you feel, picking at his cuticles.  

“I…” He hesitates, huffing as though he’s almost frustrated with himself before forcing himself to look at you.  His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I’m glad you did, though.  I wanted a chance to say I’m sorry for last night, for-” 

“Don’t,” you interrupt, surprising yourself.  His eyes widen behind his glasses, his mouth hanging open having been caught off guard, and god damn it, he looks adorable.  “We’re friends, right?  I don’t want us to have to keep apologising to each other all the time for every little thing.”  Yoongi nods, shutting his mouth. 

Was that… disappointment you saw in his eyes when you referred to him as your friend?  Yoongi smiles weakly but it looks forced - unnatural - and it disappears too fast for it to have been real.  In its wake a frown appears, one that deepens as his attention returns to Remi, and it makes you ache in your chest to see it.  Since you’ve become closer, you’ve gotten so used to seeing his smile and hearing him laugh that this just feels wrong.  

All of this - you hiding the way you feel, pretending like last night’s kiss wasn’t the best thing to happen to you in… in forever;  acting like Yoongi isn’t the best thing to happen to you in forever - it’s all wrong.  You should tell him what he means to you.  You need to.  

“Yoongi,” you say gently, calling back his attention, and when he looks at you your stomach churns so fiercely with nerves you fear you might lose your dinner.  You swallow, trying to get a hold of yourself, and bravely reach out to snatch his hand up from where it rested on his knee, threading your fingers between his.  He looks down dumbly at your conjoined hands, eyes even wider than they were before.  “I… I didn’t mind it.  When you kissed me.”  You feel your cheeks burning with heat but force yourself to continue, reassured that Yoongi hasn’t immediately pulled his hand away.  “Or when I kissed you. However it happened.”  You titter a nervous laugh, acutely aware of how clammy your palms are, and you’re glad to see that Yoongi looks just as affected by your confession as you are; every inch of his skin flushed a pretty blush pink under his normal skin tone.  “There was never anything to apologise for.”  

You flash him a nervous smile once you’ve finally done talking, giving his hand a squeeze of encouragement in hopes that he won’t leave you hanging too long before voicing some sort of reply.  A confession of undying love is preferable, obviously, but short of that just knowing he’s not totally repulsed would be enough. 

You can’t say you expect the sudden laugh he lets out - nor know what to make of it - and you’re just about to start freaking out and pull your hand away when Yoongi shifts closer to you and places his other hand over the two of yours.  The rubbing of his thumb back and forth across your skin helps to calm you, and he’s no longer laughing as he looks into your eyes, taking a breath.  He quietly calls your name, leaning closer.  

And then suddenly, Remi whines, and the two of you instantly break apart.  

“You ok Rem?” Quickly, you rise to your knees and shuffle towards her, frowning with concern.  You don’t mean to panic, but this is the first sound of obvious distress you’ve heard from her and you can’t stand the thought of your sweet girl being in pain.  

She looks up at you from where she’s nestled amongst Yoongi’s covers, panting hard, and you have to force yourself not to reach out to give her the fussing that you’re longing to.  Beside you, Yoongi watches her closely; observes the way she stops panting just for a second or two and seems to stiffen slightly before beginning to pant all over again. 

“Is she ok?” you ask, though you’re not sure why you’re presuming that Yoongi will know any more about what’s going on than you do.  

Tentatively, Yoong reaches out and lays both hands on Remi’s stomach, waiting for the next pause in her panting.  His eyes narrow, fingers twitching atop her fur.  

“Her tummy feels hard,” he says, “I think she’s starting to push.”  

“Shit,” you whisper under your breath, blushing when Yoongi chuckles in response.  He removes his hands from her, placing them back on his lap just in time for Remi to decide she wants to move, and she rises from where’s lain in the duvet all this time and begins to circle and paw at the covers, panting ceaselessly.  

“You can do it, girl.”  Following Yoongi’s lead, you reach out and gently stroke her back in reassurance, very nearly bursting into tears when Remi chases after your hand when you pull it back, nuzzling into your palm.  “We’ve got this.”  

  The next two hours pass by in something of a blur.  You all maintain a careful distance (Holly included), giving affection when it seems like she's in need of it and holding back whenever she seems agitated or restless.  She must get up and down to rearrange the sheets underneath her at least a hundred times before the first puppy is born, and you watch on with a mixture of horror and wonderment as it slowly emerges from inside her, trying your best not to cry at the sudden squeal she releases as her baby starts to crown, bottom first.  

You won't lie, it's probably one of the most disgusting sights you've ever seen, and yet you can't help but feel overcome with emotion as you watch this puppy arrive into the world, still cocooned in its amniotic sac until Remi instinctively begins to lick it clean.  She brings it to life with firm laps of her tongue, not stopping till its little body starts to wriggle and it releases the tiniest of squeaks.  Frankly, it's a good job the puppy is so cute, as it gives you something to focus on as Remi decides to chow down on the placenta, thereby separating it from her offspring.  

By the time the second puppy is born the first has already started to feed, it's head almost completely hidden by Remi's fur as it latches on.  That birth is just as straightforward, too, though Yoongi does have to shorten its umbilical cord slightly when Remi leaves it dangling just a little too long.  You're in awe of how confident and competent he seems as he does it, not a hint of hesitation evident on his face from the moment he realises what's needed to the moment it's done.  

Ah, if only you could ever be so cool. 

It’s only as the third and final puppy is being born that you start to encounter some trouble.  You almost start to believe the scan had been wrong and you were only ever expecting two puppies, figuring that Remi must be done having not pushed in almost an hour and a half.  But then all of a sudden she’s restless again and after a few minutes more another puppy begins to emerge.  The sac of waters around this one looks different - so green and dark that you almost can’t make out what’s inside at all.  

“Yoongi.”  You say his name out of sheer nervousness, already knowing he’s right there beside you seeing the same very thing.  Just like before, the puppy slides out in the amniotic sac onto the towel placed underneath Remi’s back end, but this time she doesn’t seem to pay nearly so much attention to it as she did the others - sparing it just enough licks to break the sac and then turning away, closing her eyes.  

All of Remi’s puppies so far have been just as white in colour as Remi herself, and so would this puppy be if its fur weren’t stained an unpleasant shade of green.  By Remi’s hind legs it lies limply on the towel; unmoving, unbreathing.  

“Yoongi,” you choke out, your eyes spilling over with tears, “Yoongi, it’s not breathing.  Yoongi, it-” Stifling a sob, you slap your hands over your mouth as Yoongi springs into action next to you.

Brow furrowed in concentration, he snatches up the scissors and deftly separates the puppy from its placenta just like he did for the one that came before.  He scoops it up in both hands and tilts its head down in order to help any fluids that might remain to drain out, murmuring urgently under his breath.  

“Pass me the sucker,” he suddenly demands, outstretching his hand, and you rush to obey, your own hands shaking as you place it in his palm and watch on as he precedes to suction each of the puppy’s tiny nostrils and mouth.  You pray that that will do the job.  To see some sort of response, the tiniest wiggle or smallest of sounds.  Anything!  But nothing happens - nothing at all - and you can tell even Yoongi’s starting to get desperate.  

“C’mon little guy,” he mumbles, wrapping the puppy in the towel and starting to vigorously rub its back, its stomach, its head - up and down all over, over and over again.  “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.”  Even Yoongi’s eyes are looking glassy now, the tip of his nose turning red as he holds back the tears that you’ve long since succumbed to.  

And then, just as your face falls into your hands and a sob shakes your shoulders, you hear the tiniest, most fragile of sounds.   A squeak followed by a sharp inhale of breath, and when you sharply look up you see that the tiniest puppy of the litter so far has finally begun to squirm, its mouth opening up wide to display the tiny pink tongue within.  

“Oh my god!”  You’re half laughing half crying as Yoongi stares down at the new life down within his hands, his eyes wide with wonderment.  There are tears trickling down his cheeks but he’s smiling more brightly than you’ve ever seen before, and he’s so heart-breakingly gentle as he lowers the puppy back down to Remi’s level and presents him to her.  

“You did so good, girl,” he praises, voice thick with emotion as Remi begins to lick the puppy with renewed enthusiasm.  She only stops once Yoongi slowly moves him away to nestle him in between his siblings, encouraging him to feed with softly whispered words of encouragement, and he waits until the puppy is eagerly suckling to finally let go and back off, exhaling a sigh of relief.  

"Well, that was-" Yoongi doesn't get the chance to finish what he's saying, abruptly silenced apart from the one lone 'oomph' he grunts out as your bodies collide, dropping the towel with which he'd just been wiping his hands.  

"You-" you mumble against his lips between each frantic, urgent kiss. "You - are - amazing." He's blindsided and you can't blame him; unresponsive and unyielding.  But Yoongi soon gets with the program, his arms looping around your waist to pull you flush against his chest.  

His face is wet when you take it in your hands - just like yours - but those tears are long forgotten as the two of you quickly become lost in one another.  It feels so exhilarating to have Yoongi kiss you back so enthusiastically; makes you believe that maybe he's been thinking about this just as much as you.  To hear him sigh your name has you melting against him, your whole body aflame with molten fire, and when you gently bite his lip it delights you even more to hear the way his breath hitches. 

"You really weren't kidding, were you?" Yoongi asks as he attempts to catch his breath, your attention now focused on trailing kisses along the angle of his jaw. 

"About what?" you murmur in reply, grinning against his skin as his hands grab at your clothes when you softly nip at his earlobe.  

"About not minding about the kiss."

"Oh no, not at all," you admit, tone playful, and you're just about to begin tracing kisses down his neck when one of Yoongi's hands finds your chin and tilts your head up, bringing your gaze back to his. His lips are curved in a gentle smile as he brushes them against yours, chuckling when you attempt to chase after them as he pulls away. 

"Good to know." His eyes follow the movement of his thumb as he drags it across your bottom lip, moistening his own with a flick of his tongue.  His touch lingers at the corner of your mouth for just a second longer, and in that moment you can feel your heart racing at the thought of what he might do next.  "As much as I'd like to explore this further-" 

Beside you, you hear the sound of Remi's puppies softly squeaking, and when you look down to where Remi's lay, you see that Holly has used your momentary distraction as an opportunity to start sneaking over, sniffing at the air.  You look back to Yoongi and are met with a regretful smile as he takes his hands off of you in favour of straightening the glasses that had been knocked askew by your passion.  

"Right," you sigh, looking around at all of the surrounding mess, "We're grandparents now, huh?  Have to be responsible.  Mature."  ie. not go carrying on like a pair of horny teenagers while there are still pieces of placenta strewn about the place.

Yoongi looks up at you from where he's already knelt down gathering up some of the dirty towels.  He smirks in a way you've never seen from him before - a way that makes your insides clench with excitement.  

"For now, sure.”

  You're infinitely grateful that Yoongi doesn't put you in charge of any of the messy stuff when it comes to clearing up.  All he tasks you with is watching over the puppies and keeping a very curious Holly at bay from his new offspring whilst Remi recovers and he deals with the carnage that's been left behind.  It's not a difficult job by any means. Holly is more than happy to be waylaid by tickles under the chin and tummy rubs, and you're thankful for that given how preoccupied you are with the images of what’s just happened as they replay over and over in your head.  

You still can't believe that you kissed him.  That you kissed Yoongi and he kissed you back - kissed you back and, unless you're horribly mistaken, wanted more .   And what did he mean 'for now'?  Does he want to pick up where you left off tonight?  Tomorrow?  Maybe he's just saying that to give himself an out in the future?  Just in case he changes his mind… 

No, no, he wouldn't do that.  No one could kiss like that if they weren't really into it, and god , what a kiss.  It may have been a while, but you can't even remember the last time locking lips had you feeling so hot and heavy.  Have you ever had a kiss quite like that before?  You’re sure you’d remember it if you had.  

“How’re they doing?”  You automatically smile at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, hoping that the flush of your cheeks won’t give away the explicit nature of the daydreaming he’s just interrupted.  Stood in the doorway, you notice he’s no longer wearing his glasses, though the evidence of them remains in the pink indentations on either side of his nose.  Now that his glasses are gone the dark circles under his eyes are more evident, and you feel your brow creasing with worry as he enters the room and bends down next to you, stifling a yawn as he gives Holly a little love behind the ears.  

Whilst not being the most physically strenuous of evenings, tonight has been emotionally demanding for you both, and it’s only now as you realise that that you come to appreciate how utterly drained you feel.  You can only assume Yoongi feels similarly, given by the slightly glazed look in his eyes as he checks in on the puppies, one by one.  

“They’re doing pretty good, I think.”  Or at least, you think they are.  One by one the puppies had stopped nursing and fallen asleep next to one another, each with a full round belly.  That can only be a good thing, right?  “Remi’s pooped.”  She hasn’t moved since giving birth, as fast asleep as the puppies laid at her side.  

“She’s earned her rest,” Yoongi admires fondly, giving her a very brief pad on the head so as not to wake her.  You ‘mm’ your agreement, swallowing back the emotion that rises once more in your chest.  You’re so proud it almost makes you ache.  “I was thinking,” he continues, turning his attention to you, “Seems a shame to move her.  You want to sleep here tonight so you can still keep an eye?”  

You feel your lips part at his question, your mind automatically falling straight into the gutter.  So he does mean to continue things tonight, then…  

Seeing your expression, Yoongi grins wolfishly as he stands, letting out a chuckle.   

“The couch pulls out into a futon, so you can take the bed, if you do want to stay.  

Oh.  So, maybe not then… 

You desperately try not to let the disappointment show in your face but you figure it must at least a little seeing as Yoongi begins to laugh again, eyes full of mirth.  He extends his hand to you to help you stand and you marvel once more at how long his fingers are as they thread between yours; how delicate yet so strong.  The last thing you expect is to be pulled into his arms again so soon and so suddenly, near losing your balance as Yoongi draws you near.

“You’re cute when you pout,” he teases, taking your bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger and giving it a gentle pinch.  The smirk he’s wearing is as infuriating as it is sexy and you’re powerless to resist as Yoongi leans in to brush his lips ever so sweetly against yours, ever so fleeting.  

He’s enjoying this too much, damn it.  You should’ve never given yourself away!  Can he feel how hard your heart is beating, you wonder?  Can he feel how much you want him from how needily you grab at his belt loops?

“Let’s not rush anything,” he mumbles as you insist on kissing him once more, leaning forward onto your tippy-toes.  Sighing, you eventually pull away, eyes opening to see Yoongi looking down at you with thinly veiled amusement.  His smile is fond rather than teasing, though, so you let it slide.  He’s right, anyway, you suppose.  The two of you have only just revealed your mutual affection for one another; no need to go jumping into bed straight away.  

Ugh, being mature sucks.  

Reluctantly, you part ways for the time being and head back to your own apartment to ready yourself for bed.  You fill the small wash bag you usually take on vacation with all the toiletries you might need before embarking on the arduous task of deciding what to change into.  Do you go for ultimate comfort and opt for a baggy t-shirt and sweats, or do you dress to impress and slip on a silky camisole?  

It takes you a shameful amount of time to decide but in the end you settle on a compromise; one of your cuter, cotton t-shirts and a pair of shorts of a slightly more modest length.  After all, Yoongi’s made it perfectly clear that getting laid isn’t on the cards tonight.  No point in making too much of an effort - he might start to think you’re not coming back if you take the time to go shave your legs.  You cast them a cursory glance as you slip on your sliders ready to go back next door; they’re not obviously fuzzy from a distance, at least.  

When you get back to Yoongi’s apartment, he’s nowhere to be seen.  You figure he must be in the spare bedroom changing (and boy are you envious he has one of those) because he’s not in his own, and wherever he is he must’ve taken Holly with him as Remi and her puppies continue to sleep just as soundly as when you left.  He’s clearly been busy, though; there are fresh sheets on the bed, the corner of the duvet pulled back as though inviting you in.  Considerate as always.  

You figure you may as well carry on getting ready for bed in Yoongi’s absence, and with a yawn and a rub of your eyes, you dig out your toothbrush and head toward the bathroom, sliders slapping against the floor.  

“Oh!”  You almost drop your brush when you push open the bathroom door and find Yoongi inside, Holly sitting obediently at his feet.  You thank God he’s merely brushing his teeth and not in the shower - or worse, on the toilet - though you still stutter apologies and start to leave until Yoongi waves a hand to beckon you in, unbothered.  He smiles at you in the mirror, lips lined with foam, and you shyly smile in return as he hands you the very same toothpaste.  

Together, the two of you stand and brush your teeth; the room silent other than the rustling of bristles against enamel.  Your eyes keep meeting in the mirror and oh, how you wish you were able to ignore the way your face begins to blush and how Yoongi’s smile just grows and grows the more embarrassed you get.  It’s just so domestic, the two of you, stood side by side like this.  Like you’re husband and wife just going about your normal nightly routine; you’ll spit and rinse and then dab your mouths with matching ‘his’ and ‘hers’ towels.  

Hey, a girl can dream, right?  

“Thanks for getting the bed all sorted,” you say once you’re all done and Yoongi follows you out into the hallway with a nod and a ‘no problem’.  

“Just come wake me up if you need anything, alright?”  This time it’s your turn to nod, and you’re about to head back to Yoongi’s room when he suddenly reaches out and brushes his thumb against your cheek, smiling softly.  It grows when you lean into his touch, sighing, and you see his chest rise and fall with a heavy inhale before he reluctantly pulls away.  His hand falls back to his side and you have to resist the urge to reach out and take it in your own.

“Goodnight, Yoongi,” you bid him, his name heavy on your tongue.  

“Goodnight,” he replies, and just the timbre of Yoongi’s voice alone is enough to make your stomach flip with excitement.  It makes it hard to drag yourself away, and even harder to force yourself to relax once you finally slip between Yoongi’s sheets, knowing that he’s just down the hall.  It doesn’t help that they smell just like him, too, despite being clean, and maybe it makes you a bit of a creeper but you won’t deny that you take great pleasure in snuggling your face into Yoongi’s pillow, wishing you lying on his chest instead.   

  You don’t know exactly how long it takes you to fall asleep, nor how long you’re asleep before the sound of Yoongi’s voice awakens you.  Bleary-eyed, you look towards the door and see a slip of light shining beneath from the light in the hallway, disturbed by the movement of shadow.  

“Sorry, Hol. you can’t go in there.” you hear Yoongi whispering on the other side of the door.  “The ladies need their rest.”  Listening to them, you can’t help but internally ‘aww’.  Apparently, Holly must miss Remi as much as she does when they’re parted, and oh how you wish she could actually understand a word you say so you could prod her awake and tell her so.  “You don’t think I wish I was in there as well?”  

Wide-eyed, you stare out into the darkness on hearing what Yoongi had said, hands clasped atop your chest.  Is that true?  Does he really want to be in here with you, sharing this bed?  You can’t imagine any reason for it to be a lie; you know all your whispered confessions to Remi are always true enough.   

What should you do?  Would he be embarrassed if he knew you’d heard?  Should you - 

“C’mon, let’s go,” you hear him say, the shadows beneath the door disappearing, and it’s that sudden loss that forces you into the split decision you make that has you leaping up out of bed and flinging open Yoongi’s door before he can get too far away.  

“You can sleep in here, if you want,” you declare, ever so slightly out of breath.  You wish you’d spared a thought as to whether your hair might be a mess but fuck it, Yoongi’s already turned around and seen you now.  “If it’s easier.”  A hesitant smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he looks you up and down but there’s no such uncertainty from Holly; he happily runs right by you the moment there’s an opening, tail wagging up a storm.  

“You sure?” he checks, taking a step forward and oh jesus, of course you’re sure when he’s stood there looking - sounding - like he does; voice rough with sleep, hair tousled and half-dressed.  You can only be grateful that he doesn’t sleep topless or else you might just combust on the spot, so deliciously tight are the boxers he’s wearing.  

“He’s just gonna keep you up all night otherwise.”  You try to sound casual, you really do, but the nervous little giggle that escapes you as Yoongi enters your personal space gives you away.  He grins as he passes you in the doorway to head towards the bed, and just before you shut the door to plunge you both back into darkness you see him reach out and pull back the covers from the right-hand side of the bed.  

“You sleep on the left,” he says as he climbs in, sheets rustling, “Good.”  He must sleep on the right then, you’re guessing, and it makes you more happy than it should do to learn this, smiling to yourself in the dark.  You can hear the puppies snuffling around as you tentatively make your way over to the bed, but you're sure Remi will alert you if there's a problem.   Right now, you're too busy mustering up the courage to climb back into bed next to a man you've been fantasising about for so long.  

“Don't stand there getting cold.”  After such a long night, Yoongi’s probably too eager for sleep to have much patience for you dithering around at the bedside.  Now that your eyes have started to adjust to the lack of light, you can just about make out his face turned towards you, watching as you finally climb into bed, and it does nothing to lessen the nervous fluttering of your heart. 

You’re so tense; uncertain of how to lie or how close you ought to get.  You end up lying flat on your back for lack of a better idea, trying not to fidget as you stare up at the ceiling, and even though you’re not touching, you’re acutely aware of Yoongi’s body just a few inches away.  His breaths are slow and steady - nothing like your subtle, shallow inhales - and you lie there wishing that you had any hope of remaining as cool and calm as he always seems to be.

Eventually, though, your panic begins to wane, enough that you trust yourself to speak without giving yourself away.  

“Night Yoongi,” you whisper, not sure if he’s even still awake.  You hear a soft sigh and the rustling of sheets from what you presume must be him turning over to make himself more comfortable.  Soothed by his lack of reply, you, too, roll over in hopes of finally falling back to sleep, but when you’re met by the sight of Yoongi’s dark eyes looking back at you, you’re nothing but wide awake.  

“Hi,” he murmurs quietly, and even in the dark you can make out the subtle curve of his mouth as he smiles.  Your heart thuds in your chest, your throat suddenly dry, and even though you open your mouth to reply no sound has the chance to come out because faster than you can realise what’s happening, Yoongi’s closed the space between you and stolen your voice with a kiss.  

This isn’t a kiss like the last one you shared.  He was holding back last time - careful, gentle kisses that never lingered, never deepened - but this time is different.  This time, Yoongi kisses like he means to consume you, with a hunger so fierce that it sparks a yearning just as voracious within you.  It burns through you as Yoongi leans over your body, the weight of his own forcing you to roll onto your back as his fingers weave their way into your hair.  

Willingly, you submit to him in each way in which he asks, one by one; when he coaxes his way into your mouth with the press of his tongue, when you hook your leg over his hip when the hand that was in your hair slides down onto your ass, pulling your pelvis towards him.  

“Wha-” You gasp as he rocks his hips against you, only breaking your kiss out of the necessity to breathe, and the moment you do Yoongi simply finds another target for his lips, trailing them along the length of your jaw.  “What happened to- to not rushing anything?” 

“Fuck what I said,” he mumbles in reply, voice laden with desire.  Yoongi doesn’t curse very often but there’s something so hot about him doing it now between teasing your throat with his teeth and rubbing himself up against you.  “I’ve wanted you for months.”  

Well, that makes two of you then.  And he’s not lying, either; you can feel him growing steadily harder against your leg each time your bodies move, seeking out one another’s body heat.  

“Can I take these off?”  You feel his fingers lingering at the waistband of your shorts and eagerly you nod, pulling down one side as he handles the other till you’re able to kick them off somewhere beneath the covers.  

“Please.”  Rolling onto your back, you take Yoongi with you, seeking out his lips with your own.  While his hand reaches between your legs, you’re busy tugging at his t-shirt, baring his torso just in time for your fingernails to dig into his shoulders at the first touch of his fingers, gasping as he brushes the tips featherlight against you.  

“Baby,” he groans, and you preen at his use of the pet name, “You’re so wet.”  And you can feel that it’s true - can feel how sinfully his digits are able to slip and slide about your cunt, teasing their way between your lips.  

“Please Yoongi,” you plead, reaching between your bodies to grasp his wrist and tugging, tilting your pelvis up.  You’ve been dreaming about having his fingers inside you for so long that you’ve no shame in showing him just how much you want it.  You bite your bottom lip as he gazes down at you; watching, waiting to see your reaction as he presses one finger inside.  

“Haa!” you cry out, head tipping back into the pillow, and your eyes are too tightly pressed shut to see the way Yoongi smiles in satisfaction.  Craving more from you, one finger quickly becomes two, and you can’t help but grab at his shoulders for purchase as he so deftly stretches you open.  Each motion - each thrust and curl of Yoongi’s fingers - makes the most obscene of noises, so gratuitous is your want for him.  

Suddenly, Yoongi ceases your kissing, an urgent look in his eyes.

“Can I get a taste?”  His request has your pelvic muscles clenching around his fingers with excitement - a response you presume Yoongi rightly perceives as your consent, given the cocky smile that appears on his face.  

“Only if you’re as good as your tongue as you are with those fingers,” you tease, breathless.  You’re pleased by the way he chuckles - even more so by his reply.  

“Even better,” he promises, and though you mourn the loss of his fingers as they withdraw, you’re filled with too much anticipation to really care.  His eyes fixed on yours, Yoongi kisses his way down your body, making sure to spare time for each of your breasts along the way.  Through the material of your t-shirt he suckles and licks till the material has turned see-through, and only then does he hitch it up under your chin to reveal your chest and repeat the whole process again.  He lingers long enough to leave no doubt that he’s as talented with his tongue as he’s said, your nipples tingling long after he’s done drawing them out, stiffened into tight little peaks.  

Your hips are squirming by the time Yoong’s head is between your legs.  He holds them steady with firm hands as he kisses at your inner thighs, twice suckling hard enough for you to know he’ll have left a mark - evidence of his desire.  Your want to see him clearly is at odds with how comforting you find the dark, less self-conscious in knowing that even as Yoongi’s parts your lips with his thumb and forefinger, you’re not quite so brazenly exposed.  

“Tell me what you like,” Yoongi instructs as he makes himself comfortable on his stomach.  You mumble your agreement, heart hammering with a mixture of nerves and excitement because, in all honesty, this has never really been your favourite thing before.  You don’t want him to be disappointed if this doesn’t get you there, hoping he’ll realise that it’s more about the journey than the destination.  

He starts slow; long, luxurious laps up and down, ascending from your perineum and back again to gather your essence on his tongue.  He moans as he does it, and just hearing how much he seems to be enjoying the taste of you makes it feel all the better as he does it once more.  

“I like that,” you sigh, hips shifting to get more comfortable as you close your eyes and focus on the sensation of his tongue.  His hands are on your thighs as your own make their way down into his hair, and it’s just as soft as you imagine it to be - Yoongi near purring with pleasure into your heat every time you dig your fingers in whenever something feels particularly good.  

“Mm, o-ooh, I like that too.”  Your moans become more frequent as Yoongi focuses his attention on your clitoris, the tip of his tongue gradually gaining in speed now that Yoongi’s found his purpose.  For someone who has such a small mouth and such a dainty, kittenish tongue, you had no idea he could be so skilled with it - so deft as it wriggles beneath your clitoral hood in delicious figures of eight.  “Fuck, that feels good…”  

With each second longer that he continues, you can feel a heat gradually rising within you.  It starts right there between your legs, burning in your core, but soon you can feel the flush all the way up to your chest and your back is beginning to sweat, your mouth open so each breath is a pant - a gasping moan.  

In search of relief you tug off your t-shirt, but it does little to cool you down.  Not when Yoongi seems determined to have you falling apart on the end of his tongue, not giving you a moment's reprieve even when your hips grow restless, toes curling into the blankets.  

“Oh, oh, Yoongi,” you pant, one hand fisted in his hair whilst your other is grabbing at your own.  Your fingers wind in so tight that Yoongi responds in kind by sucking your on your clit so hard it makes you cry out, but the throb of pain it leaves behind on serves to push you even closer to the edge, begging for your release.  

“Please, please, please,” you babble, and your prayers are answered when Yoongi fills you with his fingers whilst simultaneously torturing you with his tongue.  With artful precision, his fingers crook and curl inside you to stimulate your g-spot, and though he’s gentle to start with, Yoongi is an expert at interpreting the sounds you make to know exactly how rough or fast you want it - not stopping till arousal is gushing from you with every stroke.  

“Mm, Yoongi, I’m gonna- oh, oh shit!”  Yoongi doesn’t stop as your orgasm takes a hold of you,  working you through it and savouring every drop of ecstasy he manages to coax out.   It’s only when your body begins to twitch from overstimulation that he finally begins to slow his ministrations, eventually emerging from between your legs when you weakly call his name, tapping on his shoulder.  

“Can I turn on the light?” he asks whilst you’re still basking in your post-orgasmic haze, too blissed out to do anything but nod your consent and watch as he reaches over you to turn on the lamp that rests on the bedside table over on your side of the bed.  “Wanna see you.”   

You have to throw your arm across your eyes when he first switches the light on.  When you eventually start to pull it back, Yoongi is still leaning over you, an adoring look in his eyes as he gazes down. 

“Would you look at that,” he says wistfully, cupping your cheek in his palm before leaning down to kiss you.  You can taste yourself on his tongue as it rolls into your mouth but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he stops kissing you just to softly whisper ‘you’re gorgeous’ right against your lips.  

“You’re just saying that because you haven’t gotten yours yet,” you tease, trailing your fingertips down the length of his chest.  Yoongi chuckles, his laughter interrupted by a groan when you cup his balls through his boxer shorts and press your palm against his length.  

“Am not,” he insists, even as his hips rock forward into your hard and he nips at your bottom lip, groaning again as you squeeze.  

“Still, I think it’s about time for your turn, don't you?”  Whispered into his ear, your purr causes a shiver to run through Yoongi’s body before he abruptly pulls away and sits back on his heels.   Seeming to take a moment to collect himself, he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but take advantage of this opportunity to take a good long look at your lover - to admire his slight waist and unblemished skin.  His face is flushed with desire and his eyes dark as they similarly trace your form, and you feel the very same blush fill your cheeks when your gaze is inevitably drawn to the ill-concealed erection within his boxers.  

Even hidden away beneath black material, its outline is unmistakable - as is the wet patch of material at its tip.  Yoongi catches you looking and you bite your lip at the smirk that curls his as he reaches inside his boxers and pulls his cock free, tugging them down just enough for you to make out the dark curls of pubic hair at its base.  

“There are condoms in the drawer,” he tells you with a pointed look at the bedside table, but frankly you’re too entranced with the sight of his vascular hand as it strokes the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen up and down to want to look away.  

You extend your arms towards him with a coy smile, opening them up in welcome, and Yoongi cocks a curious eyebrow as he shuffles out of his boxers before settling down on top of you, his cock laying heavy on your stomach.  

“I’m clean, and I’m on birth control.”  You hear Yoongi’s breath hitch with excitement as you place lingering kisses against his jaw, his cheek, his lips.  

“You sure?” he checks, and you can’t help but giggle because even as he’s double-checking Yoongi is already lifting his hips and reaching down to take his cock in hand, guiding it towards your cunt.  “We don’t need any more little accidents around here.”  Your insides flutter in anticipation as you feel him run the tip of it between your folds till it’s slick with your arousal, one nod away from slipping inside with blissful ease.  

“I’m sure,” you grin before kissing him again, and this time they don’t stop.  Yoongi swallows up the moan you make as he slides his cock inside you in one smooth motion, right to the hilt.  He smothers the gasp that comes thereafter when he pulls back and does it again, this time harder than the last.  With his tongue between your teeth, the two of you soon find a rhythm that has you both perspiring with effort - the sounds of your heavy breathing mingling with the slap of flesh on flesh and the slick sounds of your cunt.  

“Oh god, Yoongi!” you cry out when he alters the angle of his hips, pressing in harder, faster than before.  

“I know baby.”  He finds your hand where it lays upon the pillow and threads his fingers between yours, clasping it tight as he groans, forehead pressed to yours, and grits out, “I know, I know.”  

You pick your feet up off the bed and wrap them tightly around his waist, urging him deeper, and Yoongi doesn’t disappoint.  With renewed vigour, his hips surge forward, so deep that from this angle the tip of his cock not only kisses your cervix but grazes your g-spot on the way out as well, and even without any clitoral stimulation you can feel yourself getting close all over again.  

“Say my name,” Yoongi urges between kisses, squeezing your hand in his, “Let me hear you say it.”   You do as he asks - one time, two times, three times - and every time you do you swear your orgasm looms just that little bit closer.  

“Again, baby,” he chokes out, and you can tell he’s getting close too from the tension in his voice and how his cock has begun to twitch, his thrusts frantic now.  “Say it again for me.”   Yoongi throws his head back, lifting his chest from yours to drive his cock into you even deeper.  “Fuck, I love the way you say it.”  

There are tears forming in the corners of your eyes as his name tumbles from your lips, so close that it near steals the breath from your lungs.  Every one of your senses is filled with him - with the excruciating bliss that’s sizzling through your veins - and you can’t get enough.  Gripping tighter, pulling closer.  Kissing, touching, feeling.   It’s so much.  So much, and yet somehow you want more. 

“Please,” you choke out against the press of his lips, and you don’t even know what you’re begging for with both your hands held in his, gripping them tight atop the pillow.  You never want this to stop - never want it to end - and yet you’re both rapidly reaching the climax, tumbling into oblivion together.  

You try to hold back, you really do, but when Yoongi groans your name, pressing in deep, you’ve not a shred of willpower left.  You want to give in. 

“I’m close,” he tells you, the words gritted out through his teeth, “Feel so good around me, baby.” He nips at your jawline - nuzzles so sweetly into the crook of your neck and smatters it with kisses.  “Gonna cum with me?  So pretty when you cum.” 

“Yes,” you gasp, and you’re so close, so very, very close. “Cum in me, Yoongi, please - please .”  

With the sounds of your pleading, Yoongi, too, loses all semblance of self-control.  Driving his hips forward into you, he groans at the gradual tightening of your insides, and as his cock hardens even further, twitching in anticipation, you finally reach your end.  It’s so intense you aren’t even able to speak through your climax - unable to vocalise how incredible it feels except for the raggedly drawn breaths you take once it finally begins to fade.  

You’re disappointed to realise that Yoongi has already cum by the time you’ve returned to your senses, though from how hard he’s breathing you figure he must not have been too far behind.  His face is flushed with heat, chest perspiring, and you can feel the warmth he’s filled you with trickling out from where his pelvis sits flush with yours.   

He’s still holding your hands, you realise, and when Yoongi leans down to sweetly kiss you as he squeezes them in his own, you feel yourself blush even more fiercely than before, filled with girlish glee.  Ridiculous, really, given all that you’ve just done.  

“That was amazing,” you whisper against his lips, and his smile is just as coy as yours as he pulls away to look down into your eyes.  He doesn’t say anything but his tender expression tells you all you need to know, as does the way he can’t help but kiss you over and over again before he finally withdraws.  

“One second,” he tells you as he swings his legs out of bed and you roll onto your side to watch him go, laughing as he’s forced to shoo Holly out of the way from where’s sat waiting for attention, chin resting on the edge of the mattress. 

“I hope he hasn’t been sitting there the whole time!”  You watch fondly as Yoongi shimmies his boxers back on with a hop and a wiggle.  Gosh, he really does have the cutest little butt… “We’ll have scarred him for life.” 

“His own fault,” Yoongi dismisses, unconcerned. “I’ll just go grab some tissue.”  He leaves the room for a moment or two, and in that time you have to try very hard to resist the urge to shimmy a little dance atop his mattress - the threat of accidentally making a mess on his newly changed bedsheets looming in your mind.  At the foot of the bed, you can hear the puppies snuffling around, probably looking for their next feed, and you have to stop yourself from crawling to the other end of the bed to go look at them, too.  

As it happens, Yoongi checks on them when he gets back in your stead.  He passes you the tissues and then pre-occupies himself with Remi and the puppies whilst you clean yourself up, waiting until you climb back under the covers to finally rejoin you.  He sighs in contentment as he gets comfortable, gazing up at the ceiling with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and all you can do is stare at him in wonderment as you lay on your side, hardly daring to believe that the last half an hour or so was even real.  

“I really like you,” you whisper after a minute or two has passed, still unable to wipe the goofy love-sick grin you’re wearing off of your face.  Yoongi turns his head to the side to look at you, a cocky gleam in his eyes as he takes in your expression.  

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrow lifting.  Effortlessly cool, he extends his left arm out across the pillow to invite you to curl against his side.  You do so immediately, kissing the spot on which you then lay your head, snuggling close.  You feel his lips press against the top of your head in turn, and through his chest you hear his heart begin to gallop as he squeezes you tightly in his arms, curling them around you.  “I think I really kind of like you too.”  

****

You never intended to keep them all.  

One, maybe.  You and Yoongi had talked about it; how it’d be a shame to sell them all and not get to see how the pups would eventually turn out.  But the more time that went on - the longer the two of you spent with them and got to know and love all their little personalities - the more you couldn’t bear the idea of parting with even a single one.  

And maybe you would’ve come around to the idea of them leaving if Yoongi hadn’t been just as smitten with them as you were.  You were bad influences on each other, sending each other picture updates whenever either of you were out of the apartment ( your apartment, with both your names on the lease now, not just Yoongi’s).  As if you could’ve really brought yourself to use any of those adorable photos to place an ad that would eventually take them away from you.  You should’ve known from the moment they first opened up those beady little eyes and gazed into yours that you were done for.  

Though five dogs is undeniably a handful, you can’t bring yourself to regret the decision.   Not even now, as you hold a double lead in one hand and Yoongi holds a triple in the other, somehow still managing to keep yours conjoined as your pack pulls you along.  God help you should the whole lot of them ever spot a squirrel and decide to run, or make a mad dash for a half-eaten pack of crisps strewn across the ground.  

“Hey, hey, hey!” Yoongi warns, keeping a good grip on the puppies as they surge towards the greying spaniel that comes trotting along off-lead, his elderly owner just a little way down the path.  “Nicely, nicely.”  

You hope one day your dogs might be well enough behaved - or at least old and lazy enough - to walk so nicely off lead.  The spaniel is adorably patient despite being mobbed by three white, fluffy clouds; their noses searching out every available orifice to sniff.  You’re grateful that at least Remi and Holly have the manners to stay out of it, easily distracted by the sound of the treat packet you’re rustling inside your coat pocket.  

“Oh, what a lovely little family you’ve got there!” the elderly woman coos as she comes closer, and you thank the lord Yoongi has the good sense to hold the puppies back.  Even though they’re almost a year old they haven’t quite yet learned their strength, and you’ve no doubt they’d end up knocking her over if their overenthusiasm isn’t adequately reigned in.  “You’re so blessed!”  

Beside you Yoongi nods, his chin lifting in pride as the dogs wait to be petted one by one, tails wagging furiously along the ground.  He’s too busy watching them to notice the instinctive way your hand reaches for your stomach at the kind old lady’s words, fingers splaying wide over your lower abdomen where a little life inside you grows.  

You haven’t told him yet, but oh, you can’t help but start to grin as you imagine how shocked he’s going to be - how happy and excited.  If you closed your eyes now, you’re sure you’d be able to imagine the exact smile he’ll wear, all teeth and gums and sparkling eyes.  

Yoongi squeezes your hand in his, bringing you back to the present, and you give your tummy one last gentle rub as you return the woman’s smile, heart so full it feels fit to burst.  

“Yeah," you smile, catching Yoongi's gaze and beaming all the more, "We really are.”   

****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  **** **** 

Your feedback is always appreciated, dear readers!  Please let me know what you think ^^ 

Also, I’m sure we all already know what Holly looks like, but just in case you were wondering about Remi’s breed, she is a Japanese Spitz who would like an awful lot like this -

And their puppies would end up look a little something like this -

Freakin’ adorable, right?  

Also, those of you who’ve followed my blog for a while might’ve now realised that I modelled Remi after my own little Japanese Spitz, Shiro.  Is that awfuly self indulgent of me?  Oh yes.  Do I care?  Not even a little bit *grin* 

[arhvste]

MIYA ATSUMU - PROVE EM WRONG 

- summary - irked by his brother and his wife’s flirting in front of him, astumu decides it finally time to prove to his family that he too has settled down and with someone he genuinely loves at that - fluff - x f reader

- an - this is the alternative route to the osamu fic i wrote which is based off of this ask an anon sent in earlier, someone suggested i do both brothers with this plot and i think they were joking but i did end up getting a little carried away and writing two different routes for it so here u go >:)

-

“Oi, Samu! Stop flirtin with ya wife right in front’a me and get cookin, I’m starvin!” Atsumu whined as he rested his head against the kitchen prep counter which was currently occupied with countless cooking utensils scattered across the cool metal surface and various ingredients dotted around.

“Yer just jealous I have a gorgeous wife and you don’t” With a smug smile, Osamu wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist bringing her  in close enough for him to press a quick kiss to her flour dusted cheek.

“Yuck! Not over the food I’m beggin ya!”

She giggled and pulled her husband back in close to her before turning to give a quick smile to his irritated twin.

“Perhaps we should find you a girlfriend Tsumu! I know a few people who I’m sure would be at least willing to go out on a date with you.”

“Yeah, you’d probably have to pay em first!”

Atsumu huffed before sitting up properly with a smirk painted across his face.

“Actually, no need. I’ve got a girlfriend already.”

Osamu narrowed his eyes at his brother unsure whether to believe him or not. Atsumu was known for being sly especially when it came to him.

“Really? How comes we’ve never met ‘er then?” Osamu quizzed, eyes boring into his complacent brother’s.

“Cause she’s always busy and when she’s not she’s usually at my practices, besides, media’s a pain in the ass we don’t want them following us and bein annoyin wherever we go.” Atsumu spoke matter-of-factly.

Still not buying his brothers claims, Osamu thought of something that would surely catch Atsumu out of his potential lie. He nodded towards his wife to back him up and she sent him a knowing smile already knowing what he was thinking.

“We were thinkin of having the family over this weekend for dinner cause we’ve got an announcement to make, why dont’cha bring yer girl with you?” Osamu observed his twin watching for any signs of panic or discomfort but Atsumu’s face stayed content as if he was trying to provoke the couple in front of him.

“Lemme see if she’s free, I only have training in the morning but I’ll check if she’s got anythin going on before I drag her out.” Atsumu pulled out his phone as he stood up after checking the time. “Ah shit, I gotta get back, Omi’s gonna kill me if I’m late one more time, see you Saturday I guess.” He shrugged and waved to the confused pair left in the prep kitchen.

“Yeah, see you and yer girlfriend then.”

Atsumu smirked as he headed out to leave for practice, the sudden excitement for Saturday to arrive flooding his mind.”

If there was anything Atsumu loved more than you, it was proving people wrong.

“y/n! Baby I’m home!” Atsumu called out, entering the sleek apartment closing the door securely behind him.

“Coming!” Your melodic voice called out to your boyfriend bringing a smile to his face. He heard the sounds of your feet padding across the heated floor towards him. After a few seconds of waiting, you finally reached your tired boyfriend who offered you a lazy smirk as he brought you into his arms.

“There’s my girl.” He muttered pressing a feathery kiss to your cheek before pulling you in for a deep kiss to your lips. He pulled you in even closer, hand supporting your lower back and the other moving down to give your ass a quick squeeze signalling for you to jump so he could carry you. Never letting his lips leave yours, Atsumu dragged his hand from your back to help his other hand in supporting the weight of your body now your legs had instinctively wrapped around his slim waist as your hands carded through his soft golden tufts. He carried you over to the couch and sat, having you straddle his waist before pulling away to allow yourselves to catch your breaths.

“What’s gotten you so worked up?” you huffed as you leant back slightly to look into his glinting eyes.

“Nothin much, saw Samu and his wife earlier… they don’t believe you exist.” A pout etched onto his face as you raised your eyebrow.

“Should I be offended?”

“Nah, guess they’re right, they haven’t met’cha yet, but we’re both so busy we never found the time to introduce ya.”

You hummed as Astumu pouted, face buried in your neck, his warm breath tickling your neck.

“Actually,” Atsumu began. “Would’ja mind comin to meet them on Saturday? Like, my whole family. You can say no if yer busy or if yer not ready I totally get-”

You shut the boy up with a quick peck and smiled gently at him.

“Tsumu, I’d love to meet your family.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.”

Atsumu felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder, he didn’t think convincing you would’ve been that easy. He was confident that you would’ve been open to meeting his family at some point, but there was still the lingering thoughts of doubt in which you may not have thought he was taking you or the relationship seriously, but after seeing your genuine smile and hearing your firm answer, Atsumu’s doubts washed away and a satisfied and relieved smile came over his face.

“They’re gonna be so mad when they see just how hot my girlfriend is, yer gonna show everyone who comes up, I just know it angel.”

You playfully hit your boyfriend's chest with a firm look on your face as he laughed.

“Don’t say that! I bet your family's great Tsumu, I can’t wait to meet them.”

Although you’d already said yes to meeting his family, Astumu felt his heart warm at the sound of you saying you were excited to meet his family. The fact you were happy to be involved even more in his life only made him want to let you even further in if he could. Atsumu was never really one for long-term relationships hence why he’d never bothered introducing any previous girlfriends to his family because he knew it would end eventually due to the fact he had to spend so much time travelling and at training. He had been taking a break from dating when he met you. You were introduced as the new MSBY social media manager, you were given the task to run the team’s official social medias, monitor the player’s accounts and keep an eye on certain articles while organising interviews and event appearances. It was a big job but you took it head on from the get-go thoroughly impressing Atsumu who made no attempts to hide his interest in you. Hell, he even went as far as to get scolded by you a few times for posting some risky shirtless pictures to his instagram purely for the fact he knew you were monitoring the accounts and that you’d see them.

5 months later and Atsumu had finally convinced you to let him take you out on just one date. But one date soon turned into two, then three, then seven and the rest was history. He wasn’t sure why you’d eventually given into his persistent flirting and whining but he didn’t particularly care either. He had you now and that’s all that mattered. You were the only girlfriend he’d had who understood and accepted his demanding work schedule because you yourself were on a similar schedule which he thanked the heavens for. Thinking back, Atsumu probably should’ve brought you to meet his family sooner but with the excitement of constant games, intense training, interviews and event appearances and grasping onto whatever time he could get alone with you, proved to overpower the thoughts of how significant it is for your partner to meet your family.

Whatever, they were getting the chance to meet you this weekend so better late than never he supposed.

Saturday rolled round quickly and you and Atsumu were exhausted from a weeks worth of demanding work but there was no way in hell Atsumu was going to forget about how he needed to wipe his brother's smug smirk off his face when he introduced his incredible girlfriend.

Dressing nicely, the two of you rushed out of the apartment a little later than planned but Atsumu didn’t mind. Being a little late just meant more people would arrive before him allowing him to make a big entrance and cause a scene about who he’d brought along. You weren’t an accessory to Atsumu and he hoped you weren’t thinking that’s what today was about. Sure he had a petty side goal, but he was genuinely proud of you and would show you off whenever he could especially in front of the other MSBY players who’d only scowl at him when he’d wrap his arms around your smaller frame from behind while mouthing a ‘mine’ for the other men to sulk over.

You arrived after a 15 minute drive and Atsumu opened your door for you guiding you up towards his twin’s spacious home.

Knocking a few times, Atsumu gave your hand a quick squeeze of reassurance as you felt your heart pound ever so slightly quicker at the thought of meeting your boyfriend’s whole family.

The door was opened by Osamu who already had a look of amusement written across his face, ready to ridicule his brother for lying. His face dropped when he saw you holding his brother’s hand and blinked a few times to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

“He didn’t pay you to come with him did he?” Osamu questioned with shock as Atsumu sent a sharp flick to his brother’s shoulder. You hummed in amusement before smiling lazily at your boyfriend’s twin.

“My presence is an extremely high price, I doubt he would’ve been able to afford it if he wasn’t so persistent and annoying.”

“Tsumu, I approve, I like her.” Osamu snickered before letting the two of you enter his warm home filled with members of the Miya family.

A chorus of welcomes came their way as many family members rushed over to gush over how ‘out of Atsumu’s league’ you were and ‘why had you wanted to date someone as messy as him’ only for you to laugh brightly and tell his family countless stories about Atsumu’s antics at training and post match celebrations.

Astumu didn’t even mind you were poking fun at him every so often, growing up with Osamu had gotten him pretty used to it but he was more focused on how naturally you fit into his family. It was like you were meant to be a part of it. 

Watching you as you spoke and laughed with his family, Atsumu let his thoughts wander to when and how he’d eventually go about making you officially part of his family one day.

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @atsunakaashi @peteunderoos @tsukishimagizzard @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff

[comm-caribou]

✿ Person A getting nervous whenever Person B is physically close to them. (heart starting to race, hands starting to shake, etc.)

Juliette/Digger (honestly feel like all of these prompts would work for these two)

These all really do scream Juliette and Digger! I love it!

Hmmm… as much fun it is to make Juliette flustered by her silly ARF Sergeant, I think I’ll switch it up ☺️☺️

————

Another day, another planet in need of the Republic’s favorite errand boys to deliver supplies and resources.

While most of the 952nd didn’t mind being away from the fighting. They got to see new places, meet new people, and they weren’t being shot at on a regular basis.

Digger studied a rock in his hand a child gave him, rubbing his thumb over the flat side. Him and the rest of Tunnel squad finished the rest of the heavy lifting, and were relaxing in some grass by the AT-RTs, watching as the Commander and his officer posse, minus the General.

“Pop quiz,” Digger held the rock up to his squad.

“Rose quartz,” they all mumbled.

“Are my pop quizzes boring you?” Digger teased.

“Not really,” Zombie said. “Just tired.”

“And that was an easy one,” Calico bit into a cookie one of the nice, older ladies gave him.

“Rose quartz promotes love,” Hound stated. “Both in self and attracting it.”

Digger sighed, “I got to start quizzing you boys harder.”

“Boo.”

Hound jumped, “jeez! General!”

Digger turned back to his boys, seeing Juliette crotched down behind Hound smiling at his technician. He smiled as Juliette brushed his cheek, then got up.

Digger watched her, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. She had become close to his boys, but not him. He wished he knew the four of them were hanging out with her during their many visits to Coruscant, he would’ve been doing that more instead of going to 79’s looking for someone else’s lips kiss, while he pretended they were her’s.

She knelt down beside him, “hi, goofball.”

He smiled, hoping his dark skin hid the blush he was feeling heating up his face.

She held up a pink flower, “want a flower?“

“Sure,” he reached out, but she brushed it behind his ear smiling.

“Cutie,” she teased, then skipped off.

Mutt chuckled, “she gave you pink.”

“We got white,” Hound turned his head, so Digger could see a flower brushed behind his ear.

Mutt delicately sniffed his in his hand, “daisies.”

Calico smirked, looking to Digger, “I believe they’re her favorite.”

Digger turned to where she went, picking up a little local girl as they snuck up behind Hardwire talking to the leader. The leader stiffed back some laughter as a flower crown of white daisies dropped on his head.

Hardwire turned to them, trying his best to look mad. However, his smile and inability not laugh gave him away as Juliette passed the giggling child to Cooper.

“Stop staring,” Mutt whispered.

Smiling, he looked away playing with the rose quartz in his hand.

Juliette came back their way, and sat beside him and Zombie.

“Isn’t Cooper so cute with kids?” She giggled, “he looks so different when he’s around them.”

Digger kept his gaze adverted, focusing on the rock, “do you want kids, General?”

“Maybe,” she sighed dreamily, “someday, when I meet the right man.”

Digger lifted his gaze.

She’s beautiful, he smiled, she’ll have no problem finding a husband just by that alone. Once they fall for the rest of her, she’s set for life. Although, how could anyone not love her?

He held out his hand, “this will help with finding your loved one.”

He dropped the rose quartz in her hands.

If I’m lucky, it will lead you to me.

“Thank you,” she held up, “but we’ll be putting a lot of pressure on this poor rose quartz.”

“Nah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “it’ll be easy for love to find you.”

****

Digger groaned into his pillow, practically screaming as he sat with just Tunnel squad in the barracks.

“It was cute, Sarge,” Hound assured.

“Very cute,” Mutt agreed.

“I don’t want to be cute,” Digger sat up, “I want her to find me desirable.”

“Cute is a good start,” Calico said from his bunk.

“I like cute,” Zombie offered.

Digger sighed, “I’m not sure you and Angel have the same taste in men.”

Calico snickered.

“Stop knowing everything!” Digger punched the bunk above him.

[the-shiniest-plant]

OC Interview: Fionnuala

Draw (or use an old drawing, don’t worry!) or take a screen of your character in an interview setting and make them answer the following questions!

(I was tagged by @uselessidiotsquad and @thoseofuswhoblossom! Hi, guys!)

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

- Hi! I’m Fionnuala, Nuala to friends, family, and anyone who finds my name difficult to pronounce. I’m a member of the Crystal Bloom, one of Aurene’s Champions, former Slayer of the Order of Whispers, former Warden, and Maker of Friends! Nice to meet you all!

What is your Gender Identity, Orientation, and Relationship Status?

- Cisgender Female, Panromantic Demisexual, and Single. Turns out not a lot of people want to date someone who’s dragon-branded… which I can understand.

When and where were you born?

- I was born in the Grove about…. Five minutes after midnight… sometime in the Season of the Phoenix, in… 1310! Yeah, that’s about right. I can’t remember what day, but the day doesn’t really matter to Sylvari more than the time of day, so… I guess it makes sense. Does that answer your question well enough? Yes? Good! What’s next?

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

- I fight with two longswords - one in each hand - and though I’m heavily armored I can and prefer to jump in and out of the Dream like most Revenants do the Mists in order to get the drop on my foes. I do use hammers from time to time when I need to hit something far away that I can’t get to. Though, most of all, I like to use the magic of Aurene to lend support to my allies in battle - regeneration, strength, cunning… though I can’t do that too much or it wears me out. Still makes me happy knowing my allies may have survived because of these gifts.

Lastly, are you happy?

- Well, I’m as happy as my current life situation allows me to be. I know I could be happier, if I had different circumstances, but right now I feel like I’m… content at the very least - my brother is safe, my Mother is getting healthier by the day, and I’m always willing to answer Aurene’s call to service. I’m a bit lonely, in all honesty, when apart from my friends in Rurikton, but for now I’m okay with that - I figure when the right person for me comes along, I won’t be so lonely anymore.

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

- I have a pod-brother, Sitheach! He’s a wonderful person, and I love him dearly. We’re very close, and we write to one another all the time when he’s on missions for the Pale Reavers, just to keep each other posted on current situations. He’s been home for a bit now, which is a blessing. His boyfriend misses him terribly when he’s away so seeing them back together warms my sparkly little heart!

Have you ever run away from home?

- Nope! I’ve been called everywhere I’ve been, so technically I haven’t “run away” from anything.

Would you consider marriage or having children?

- Well, marriage is a foreign concept to Sylvari, as is childbirth, but I would absolutely love a partner, and would certainly adopt orphaned children of other races if my partner was also okay with raising them, as I highly doubt with my duties as a Champion of Aurene would allow me to effectively raise a child alone. I like to think I’d be a good mother, though.

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

- Pfffft, what kind of a question is that!? Why on Tyria would you call someone a friend if you secretly hated them? How silly!

Which friend knows everything about you?

- The only people on Tyria that know all about me are my brother, and my best friend Elspeth. That being said, I’m rather open to questions so if you see me in public and want to know more about a specific sliver of my life, just ask! I’ll do my best to answer.

Asked by Fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

- I can definitely read and write, as most if not all Sylvari can do that from emergence, and… does the Dream count as schooling? I know learning from Mentors does, but I feel like I learned more from the Dream than I ever did from my mentor - sorry, Maeryn, but it’s true!

What’s the eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

- I don’t think I’ve made any predictions like that, it’d be handy if I could, though… I wish I could’ve predicted the attack on the Grove during the World Summit… if we were prepared… maybe, just maybe Mother wouldn’t have been so grievously injured…

What is something that you were embarrassingly late in realizing?

- I partially understood how the other races weren’t born from pods, but what I didn’t know was the process of mammalian conception and live birth, until a kind Asura explained it to me during a stay in Divinity’s Reach. Hi, Quizz! Hope you’re well!

Do you have mental health or physical issues?

- Hoo boy, where to start… Anxiety and a bit of depression, mostly. Not being on the scene in time to help defend mother during the Shadow of Mordremoth’s attack… it really hit my self-esteem, so now, whenever I’m too late to save an innocent life, it… it haunts me for days…

What is your current main goal?

- My current goal is to protect the people of Tyria and help them in whatever way I can. It may or may not be a compulsion that I get from being Branded, but I’d likely do that anyway without the compulsion, so it works out.

Choices

Drinks or food?

- Drinks! Nothing like a good glass of Nectar after a long day of doing good things!

Cats or dogs?

- Dogs. Sylvan hounds. Specifically the puppies... I need to visit Danador’s Kennel again!

Early bird or night owl?

- Definitely a Night Owl! Which makes sense because of my Cycle. I thrive in the Evenings!

Optimist or Pessimist?

- My friends have never known me to be anything but optimistic in all my endeavors, and I certainly don’t plan to stop now!

Sassy or Sarcastic?

- Ooh, hard choice… they both have their merits… can I say “both”? Is that okay? I honestly can’t choose with this one!

Have you ever…

Been caught sneaking out?

- Of a Nightmare Camp? Yes. On several occasions, actually. I got a lot better at not being caught after I joined the Order of Whispers. Mostly because I didn’t have Ellie to help distract my foes so I could make an escape, if I was caught. Which I wasn’t! Not after Whispers.

Broken a bone?

- Never! Not even during Dragonstorm! Rather lucky on that front, my Priory friend lost her whole arm! Hi, Vledda!

Received flowers?

- No. Grown several myself, though.

Ghosted someone?

- Like, turned them into a ghost? Probably several people.

Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

- Oh, plenty, when I was a sapling. I understood humor more and more as I kept living.

And there you have it! I tag @moonlit-grove again because I want Sitheach Lore, dang it!

[morningfears]

Drag Me Down

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18!

Summary: You and hockey player!Calum have an interesting relationship. Is it flirting? Is it harmless fun? Regardless of what it is, it landed you an ice skating lesson that ends in so much more than a new skill. (Featuring prompts [yes, I’m still writing those] 1 and 3 for @thesubtweeter​ | Semi-public sex? (I mean, the rink is empty but in an ice rink)

Word Count: 6k

As unusual as it was, even for a Saturday morning, the campus ice rink was empty. It sat devoid of life and silent, save for the sound of your shoes hitting the concrete floor, and you clutched your jacket a little tighter to your body as you felt a chill rush over you. Though you’d only been in the building a handful of times, and only ever on game days, it was cooler than you’d ever felt - something you attributed to the lack of occupants milling about the vast space - and you almost regretted the outfit you’d chosen for your meeting (you weren’t sure that you could call it a date, though you desperately wanted it to be one) with Calum.

You felt slightly self-conscious, dressed in a black skater skirt with a white t-shirt tucked in and a jean jacket a friend had painted for you thrown over top, and wished you’d gone for something more practical - like jeans, maybe a nice sweater - but when you spotted Calum leaning against the railing at the top of the stairs, you didn’t have much time to agonize over your decision. He was dressed comfortably, in a pair of black jeans and the green Empathy hoodie you longed to steal from him, and watched as you crossed the empty space to meet him. It was then, the look he gave you - a slight raise of his eyebrows, a quick swipe of his tongue over his lips, a ghost of a smirk - that made you decide that, no, you didn’t regret your choice at all.

You wouldn’t admit it, not out loud, but if it got Calum to look at you like that, you would gladly put up with any amount of frozen limbs. 

You felt a slight charge in the air as you approached him. It was an ever present tension, always there whenever you were around Calum, and it was almost too much for you to handle. The air felt thick with electricity, an underlying current that made your heart begin to beat just a bit faster and the butterflies begin to swirl in the pit of your stomach as goosebumps pricked at your skin. It was instantaneous, the only response to his gaze you seemed to be capable of, and you were both aware of it.

Your head felt muddled with too many thoughts, all of them about Calum, and time seemed to slow as you closed the remaining gap between the two of you. You finally stood close enough to smell his cologne, a scent so heavily associated with Calum that you’d never again be able to smell it without thinking of him, and lost yourself in your proximity.

You hated the effect that he had on you, that he was able to turn you into a lovesick fool with one glance in your direction, because you honestly had no idea where you stood with him. Some days you imagined he liked you as much as you liked him, that he caught a whiff of your perfume and felt his heart pound in his chest and his cheeks heat with a bright pink flush. Others, you wondered if he was just enjoying toying with you because there was no way he could be as interested in you as you were in him.

On those days, the days where your thoughts ran in an unpleasant direction, you reminded yourself that Calum wasn’t like that. Though he was one of your university’s most well-loved hockey players, one of the team’s stars since his freshman season, and a well-loved figure on campus, he was genuinely a good guy. He had a big heart, bursting with love, and would never string you along. 

Not when you made it so fucking obvious just how head over heels you were for him.

Although Calum was friends with almost everyone, and at least respected by those he wasn’t friends with, you never imagined that you’d find yourself counted amongst them. You ran in completely different circles, lived completely different lives, but the universe had thrown you together in Chemistry 101 and, well, who were you to question the universe?

You were almost ashamed to admit it but when you first met, on the first day of your chemistry lab, you expected Calum to leave all of the work to you. Although you found him attractive - your friends joked that they’d never seen you stare at anything that wasn’t a textbook that long - you assumed he’d be like everyone else, quickly realizing that you were a stickler for good grades and taking advantage of that. You assumed he’d be another asshole, ashamed to be seen even looking in your direction, however, you were sorely mistaken.

Calum was smart, brilliant, even, and driven. He worked just as hard as you did on lab reports and put in an equal amount of effort every time the pair of you put your heads together to figure out a new set of problems. You divided the out of class activities evenly and met an hour before lab to finishing compiling the work into one cohesive document. He took his studies seriously, just as you did, and you felt guilty for assuming the worst.

What made you feel even worse, though, was that you’d assumed the worst of him as a person, too.

You’d been paired with athletes before, football and basketball and baseball and soccer players, that were all incredibly difficult to deal with. They never spoke to you unless it was to ask for the answers to the online quizzes and you felt certain that Calum was going to be the same. But, to your surprise, he was incredibly easy to get along with.

He was quiet for the first few classes, observing you as you worked and only really commenting on the lab work, but when he figured you out - you later realized that that was what he’d been doing, deciphering you as if you were some sort of puzzle - he threw you for a loop.

Your relationship began with teasing remarks, little jabs here and there about how cute it was to hear the good girl swear when you made a mistake or how much he liked flustering you whenever he sat a little closer than normal, and pet names. You wondered, briefly, if those were just because he’d forgotten your name but that thought was erased when he wrote it at the top of a lab report before tossing it into the pile on the professor’s desk.

He’d been doing it for months and though you couldn’t exactly say you’d gotten used to it - hearing him call you ‘pretty girl’ or tease you for saying ‘fuck’ wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you got used to -, you’d come to expect it. His words still made your heart race and your face heat, especially as he seemed to grow bolder and bolder with each week that passed, but you knew that you’d miss whatever the pair of you had the moment it was gone.

You wanted to believe that he was genuinely flirting with you, that the compliments and pet names meant something, and that he had a genuine interest in you but your insecurities sometimes got the better of you and you wondered if he just enjoyed watching you trip over your own tongue whenever he got particularly bold. He could’ve had anyone, anyone at all, so why would he choose you?

But, as you attempted to ground yourself in the present, you realized that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask that question and risk putting an end to him doting on you. So, whatever it was that linked the pair of you, you resigned yourself to simply settling in for the ride and letting whatever was going to happen, happen.

And spending the day alone with Calum was what was happening.

You liked to believe that ending up in an empty ice rink with Calum was the universe, once again, meddling in your life. You hadn’t planned this, you’d intended to spend your day off on your couch with a bowl of popcorn and a bad movie, but those plans had gone up in smoke (not that you really minded) when you mentioned wanting to learn to ice skate as you and Calum waited for your professor to hand out the week’s lab assignment.

He’d spotted the bruises on your knees from a fall you’d taken at the roller rink, a collision with an overly ambitious teenager, and spent a solid few minutes teasing you - “You sure that’s what happened? Hm. If you say so, pretty girl.” - before accepting your explanation. As your cheeks burned from the insinuation (and the few fantasies that managed to nestle into the darkest gutters of your mind), he’d asked, “Do you just roller skate or can you ice skate?”

When you lamented your inability to ice skate, or inline skate, and expressed a desire to learn, Calum wore the brightest smile you’d ever seen. It was beautiful, truly happy and almost giddy with excitement, and you committed it to memory without even noticing. “Meet me at the rink on Saturday,” he instructed, “I’ll teach you.”

You were rendered speechless, surprised that he wanted to spend time with you out of class, and didn’t register that it wasn’t a question (though you both knew your answer would’ve been yes if it was). You nodded dumbly, too awed to dwell on the fear you held for ice skating, as you watched him take the assignment sheet from your professor. “I’ve got a friend who has some skates you can borrow.” He paused then, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling into a smirk, before he added, “This’ll give you an excuse to hold my hand.”

Though he said it jokingly, you both knew that his words held nothing but truth; you would’ve jumped at the opportunity to touch him - or have him touch you - and here he was, handing it to you without a second thought.

The moment you left lab that day, you were a mess of emotions. You were ecstatic, thrilled to be seeing Calum outside of class, and surprised that he wanted to see more of you. But, beneath your excitement, you were petrified. You always had an out, a solid limit to the amount of time you spent together, and you were worried that with no clock ticking away the minutes, you would do or say something that broke whatever spell Calum had to be under. You were nervous, unsure of what you could talk about and what he was expecting of you. You were also nervous about being on the ice.

You knew that you were going to spend your morning falling on your ass, in front of the man who occupied most of your thoughts, as your balance was shaky even as you stood on solid ground. And this was the first time Calum would be seeing you outside of class and the occasional game. He was used to seeing you dressed down, casual and comfortable for a long day of classes or after work, so you wanted to make a good impression.

The knee high socks you usually reserved for street skating and the heeled boots that you’d only worn a handful of times weren’t exactly practical but practicality was not on the agenda for the day.

The silence between you only lasted for a moment but as your thoughts moved at the speed of light, it seemed to drag on forever. Calum took his time drinking in the sight of you, his eyes lingering on the exposed expanse of thigh, and you tried not to let him see how nervous you really were as you sank your teeth into your bottom lip and waited for him to speak.

“You didn’t have to get so dressed up for me.” His voice held the teasing lilt you loved to hear, an amused tone that told you he took joy in the way your cheeks heated and your eyes dropped from his chest to the floor. “But you look cute, pretty girl. I like the socks.” Your flush deepened as you snuck a look at him from beneath your lashes and caught sight of the smirk that looked like it belonged on his face. After a beat of silence, of waiting for you to retort with something witty - a feat that you had yet to manage, though you desperately wanted to throw him off his game at least once -, he reached into his bag and handed you a pair of skates. “Here. These should fit you.”

He watched, his eyes shining in the bright rink lights, as you studied the pair of strawberry red ice skates - Moxi skates, the same as your roller skates - in your hands. When you grinned, he breathed a quiet laugh before turning and gesturing for you to follow him down the stairs. You trailed behind him, your eyes on his back as he headed for the bench, and only sat beside him when he patted the wood to his left.

He dropped his bag to the floor and pulled out his own skates, the hockey skates he wore with a sturdier boot and blade than the ones you were borrowing, before making quick work of lacing them up. Lacing your skates was the only ability you felt confident in so you worked alongside him, your fingers yanking the beige laces tight around your ankles, and failed to notice his gaze on you as you secured them.

“You could’ve had me on my knees.” When you shot him a bewildered look, your eyes wide and lips parted in confusion, Calum grinned and gestured to your skates. “I was going to be chivalrous and lace up your skates for you but it looks like you don’t need me,” he teased, a laugh leaving his lips as he watched you return to the task at hand and tie your laces in a bow. “But that’s alright. I can still dream of getting you on your knees.”

You bit your lip, cheeks burning as you chose to ignore Calum’s teasing words, and shook your head to clear it as you pressed your feet into the floor to test the fit of your skates. “Lacing skates is the easy part,” you answered with a shrug. “It’s, well, everything else that I’m worried about.”

As he always seemed to do, Calum continued on like nothing out of the ordinary had been said and nodded as he stood from the bench. “I would lie and tell you that I won’t let you fall but you’ve been known to call me on my bullshit, so, I’ll try my best not to let you fall. How’s that?” He offered you his hand, a laugh leaving his lips as you wobbled upon standing, and you did your best to hide the pout you knew was coming.

“Doesn’t really make me hopeful that I won’t be leaving with a sprain of some sort or maybe a sliced off finger,” you mumbled, hands still clasped in his as you tried to find your footing on the mat by the bench, “but I appreciate the honesty. Alright, let’s do this. The faster I fall, the less afraid I’ll be. I think.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” Calum began, his hands loosening their grip on yours as he took a half step back, “I could just let you go on your own, then. You could get a few falls in while I take a few laps and warm up.” He offered a nonchalant shrug, sparing a quick glance out at the ice, but you could tell that he was joking by the look in his eyes when he met your gaze once more and how his grip on your hands loosened but didn’t let go completely.

“Absolutely not.” You tried to sound stern, firm in your insistence that he remain by your side, but the words came out in a laugh as you tightened your hold on him. “If I go down,” you began as you lingered near the entrance to the ice, “I’m taking you with me.”

Calum laughed at your comment and shook his head as he watched you stare out at the ice with a concentrated frown on your lips. That was still fairly new, you were still finding your footing when it came to teasing him back, but it was welcome. He enjoyed it almost - but not quite - as much as making you blush.

He’d asked, as soon as the comments and little jabs started to veer into flirtier territory, if they made you uncomfortable. You’d assured him that they didn’t. When he asked for your permission to keep the comments coming, to keep flirting and teasing, you gave it to him enthusiastically.

You wouldn’t admit it, not out loud and not to Calum, but you loved the feeling his teasing brought you. You loved the burn you felt in your cheeks and the butterflies you felt in the pit of your stomach. You loved the way his shoulders lifted and he smirked after making you look away or lose your train of thought. You loved being left speechless, unable to do anything but giggle or bite your lip, and you knew that Calum loved it, too.

It was the best part of your week, and his, and you were both content with it being nothing more than a bit of fun - for the time being, anyway.

“If you wanted me on top of you, all you had to do was ask. Would’ve been much easier than all of this,” he said, gesturing out at the ice as he sent a teasing wink in your direction. He bit back his laughter as your gaze dropped to your feet and stepped out onto the ice, your hand still firmly in his grasp.

“Who says you’ll wind up on top?” It was said beneath your breath, a huff of words that you didn’t even have time to think about until they were already out of your mouth, but Calum heard you loud and clear. He raised his eyebrows, surprised by your retort, and laughed as he watched your eyes widen and your mouth drop open. “I… that’s not what I, I didn’t mean - fuck.”

“You didn’t mean fuck? Sure sounds like you did.” He knew what you meant, the smirk on his lips told you as much, but he was clearly enjoying watching you attempt to clarify your words. When you opened your mouth once again, only to find yourself unable to speak, he shook his head. “Relax, pretty girl.” His voice was soft, soothing but with an underlying hint of amusement, as he gestured for you to step out onto the ice. “I’m just messing with you. Come on, out on the ice. Don’t go stiff. Try to relax and don’t watch your feet.”

You tried to push the burning embarrassment you felt out of your mind as he pulled you out onto the ice, your hands intertwined as he skated backwards. He remained quiet, his eyes trained on you as you furrowed your brows in concentration and desperately tried to remind yourself not to stare at your feet. You tried to watch him, instead, and tried to copy his footwork but he made it look so effortless.

You struggled to stay standing and you were certain that you were holding Calum’s hands tight enough to cut off the circulation but he didn’t seem to mind. “Keep your knees bent and try to put your weight on the balls of your feet,” he instructed as he watched you attempt to shuffle your feet.

Calum bit back the teasing comments he wanted to make as he watched you attempt to keep your balance. You looked so focused and desperate to get it right that he didn’t want to shake the little bit of confidence you were managing to build. Instead, he said, “You missed the game last night.”

You nodded, slightly distracted as you tried not to lose your balance, and offered an apology. “I was planning on coming but I had to fill in for a coworker. Didn’t figure you’d miss me.” You shot him a smile, glancing at him from beneath your lashes, and he shook his head fondly.

“Can’t help it when the loudest supporter in the building isn’t here,” he teased. You felt your cheeks heat and you dipped your head to return your gaze to the ice as you allowed him to continue pulling you along. 

It was no secret that you got into the games. It was almost expected that you and your roommate would be the loudest fans in attendance, ready to yell at any player or official or fan who stepped out of line, and he was right. It would be hard not to miss the pair of you. 

“I just get passionate, okay?” You huffed a sigh, pretending to be annoyed by his teasing, but you’d heard from a mutual friend that he loved the support - and hearing you curse when someone hit him a little too hard - so you kept it up. “And, I mean, I need to get my aggression out somewhere.”

“Aggression?” Calum raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing that you were capable of any real aggression - your rants were never truly aggressive, never really angry, and always adorable to him, anyway -, and laughed as he nodded. “Sure. You’re aggressive and I’m the Queen.”

“Nice to meet you, Your Majesty.” Your words dripped with sarcasm but Calum’s face remained impassive as he watched your lips curl into a pout. “No one around here appreciates my sense of humor,” you grumbled, more for the sake of saying something than to actually complain.

“Your sense of humor is comprised of the worst puns known to man, jokes that only you understand, and sarcasm that you explain so you don’t hurt any feelings.” You gaped at him, feigning offense though you knew his description was accurate, and tugged your hands away from his grip.

“Wow. Okay, well, I think that’s my cue to try and skate without you holding my hand, thank you very much.” It was a struggle to keep a straight face, especially when he smirked as you started shaking the moment you let go of his hands, but you tried your hardest as you focused on the ice beneath your feet.

“Have it your way,” he hummed as he skated just far enough away from you to be out of your reach. “This’ll be a good time to teach you how to stand back up.” 

“Are my puns really that bad?” You hadn’t moved more than a few inches as you wobbled on your skates. Calum remained close to you, always out of reach but close enough to move in if you really needed him, and laughed at your question.

“Yes. They’re shit. But they’re cute coming from you.” It was high praise coming from him - he gave compliments but they were often shrouded in teasing jabs - so you took it for what it was and grinned at him. However, before you could thank him - and maybe tease him for liking your awful puns - you felt yourself beginning to fall.

“Don’t flail,” he reminded you as he moved closer to reach out and grab your hand and stabilize you. “You’ll break-“ Before he could finish his sentence, your panic took you both down.

True to his prediction, Calum ended up on top of you. He reached out to keep the full impact of his weight off of you and you both groaned as your back - and bare legs - hit the ice while his hands hit beside your head. You were both quiet for a moment, taking in the shock of the impact, before he laughed. “Don’t land on your hands,” he instructed you. “You could break something.”

You barely heard the words that left his lips. You were more focused on the fact that his lips were inches away from your own. He was checking to make sure you hadn’t hit your head, his hand freezing as he grabbed your chin and lifted your head to look him in the eye, but nothing - not even a potential concussion - mattered when you could feel his weight on you.

“You could at least pretend that you’re not enjoying this.” It was a joke, the words laced with the teasing lilt you would never be able to disassociate with Calum, and it was said as he shifted a little closer to you. You held your breath and let your eyes slip shut, waiting for him to lean in and press his lips to yours, but after a moment of silence, you had yet to feel anything.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with sight of Calum smirking at you. “We should get up. Don’t want you to freeze.” It took everything you had not to scream in frustration as he pushed himself to his feet and steadied himself before reaching out to help you up.

Calum didn’t hesitate to laugh at the pout on your lips when you finally managed to get back on your feet. You weren’t happy with him, clearly, but he loved seeing you squirm as you shied away from his gaze. He wanted to leave you in suspense, to make you wait until the very end of the lesson, but you’d suffered enough. He knew that your legs were going to be bruised - just as your ego already was - so he gave in. “Come here, pretty girl,” he laughed, using his hold on your hand to pull you a little closer to him.

You kept your hopes to a minimum, half-convinced he was teasing you yet again, but to your pleasant surprise, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. It was a quick kiss, a barely there press of his lips against yours, but it was enough to send your heart rate skyrocketing and set your blood on fire. Your skin burned where his fingers touched and you found yourself warm for the first time since you stepped foot into the rink.

All too soon, the kiss was over. Calum pulled away from you and grinned at the way you blinked away the stars you’d seen. He gave you a moment to compose yourself before he released his hold on your hands and began skating away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Your voice had a whining tinge to it, more desperate for his touch than you would like to admit, and you couldn’t seem to stop the words that were spilling past your lips. “We were in the middle of something!”

“You catch me, you get another kiss. You came for a skating lesson, didn’t you?” 

You both knew that you wouldn’t have said yes solely for the ice skating lesson and you both knew that you wouldn’t have worn the outfit you did without reason but it wouldn’t be Calum if he gave you what you wanted without getting something in return. So, you nodded.

Your pout slowly faded as you attempted to follow Calum around the rink. He never strayed too far from you, just far enough that you couldn’t reach out and touch him, and made conversation as you grew more confident on your skates. The pair of you talked about school and music, about movies and plans for your holidays. You asked about his friends and him about yours. It was casual, the easiest conversation you’d had in years, and you didn’t want it to end.

However, you finally saw an opening and decided that you’d rather return to the conversation later than miss your opportunity to kiss Calum again.

He’d been consistent in his speed, moving slow enough to remain near you but fast enough to put distance between you, but found himself slowing as he got lost in the conversation. It took you longer than you would’ve liked to notice how close he was but when you finally did, you grinned and moved in to grab his hand.

“I caught you!”

Calum glanced down at your hand in his and smirked, shaking his head when he realized that you had, in fact, caught him. “Well, I’m a man of my word.”

Just as he had done earlier, Calum brought his hand to cup your cheek and leaned in to press his lips to yours. This time, you were prepared. You pressed closer to him, desperately wishing you could feel his body heat, and lost yourself in his embrace. As your hands moved to tangle in his hair, his hands moved to grip your hips. He pulled you closer to him, pressing you tight against his body, and deepened the kiss.

You would’ve been content to remain there forever, desperate for a breath of fresh air but unwilling to take it as that would mean parting from Calum, but he knew that would be a disaster waiting to happen. It was hard enough to keep you both balanced, he didn’t think he could manage with even more of a distraction. So, he pulled away from the kiss and grabbed your hand.

Calum pulled you across the ice without a word, his hand warm in your own. You wanted to ask what he was doing but found yourself unable to speak. You felt tongue tied and fuzzy headed so you relinquished your control to him. When you made it back to the bench, Calum took a seat and pulled you down onto his lap. He immediately returned his lips to yours as his hands slipped beneath your jacket.

You sat there for what felt like a lifetime, your hands tangled in his hair as his moved from your waist to brush the tops of your thighs just beneath your skirt. You were content to remain there, just kissing him, but Calum had other plans.

Calum lifted you from his lap and gestured toward your skates. It took a moment for you to realize what he meant but when you saw him untying his own, you followed his lead. You made quick work of unlacing your skates and returning to cover to the blades before passing them to Calum. He shoved them into his bag, alongside his own, before he stood from the bench and slung it over his shoulder. He reached out a hand to you and guided you through the rink to the locker room.

It wasn’t ideal, and definitely not what you imagined your first time sleeping with Calum would be like, but you didn’t really have it in you to care as he dropped his bag onto the ground and crowded you against a set of lockers.

You didn’t care if you were technically in a public space where anyone could interrupt. You didn’t care that your body ached from your fall earlier. You didn’t care that the metal of the lockers dug into your skin.

The only thing that mattered was the feeling of Calum’s lips on yours, his hands on your skin, his body pressed against yours. You couldn’t focus on anything in particular, not when the feeling of Calum was so overwhelming, so you stopped trying to make sense of anything that was happening and just let yourself enjoy it.

You tugged at his curls as his hands dipped a little higher beneath your skirt. “This okay?” he asked, his voice muffled against the column of your throat. When you breathed your consent, he hummed against your skin and let his fingers explore the expanse of your inner thighs before his thumb brushed your slit over your panties.

“‘M glad you wore a skirt,” he confided, his voice quiet as he pulled away just enough to get a look at your face. “Makes this easier.”

“Glad I didn’t wear shorts under it,” you agreed, voice breathy and high as you gripped Calum’s biceps when his fingers nudged your panties to the side.

Calum didn’t bother to retort as he teasingly dragged his fingers along your slit. You took the time to return his kisses, pressing your lips to his neck and nipping at his warm skin. You felt like this was a dream and hoped desperately that you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.

Calum took his time teasing you, brushing his thumb over your clit and rubbing barely there circles before moving away. You weren’t surprised, it was just like him to tease you even as you were willingly giving him whatever he wanted, but you were frustrated as you begged him for something more.

He pressed his lips to yours to silence your begging - and the moan that he knew was inevitable - before he slipped a finger into your heat. He took his time, far longer than he should have given your location, working you open. You were grateful for his kiss as it kept you from making far too much noise as he worked his way to two fingers and began circling your clit with his thumb.

“Are you sure you want this?” He wanted to be sure, certain that you really wanted him, because no amount of flirting and teasing equaled consent.

“Yes, Cal. Please.” Your words came out as a whine, your lips parted as your hands desperately clung to his biceps. He nodded, glad that you were so enthusiastic, before he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled away to grab a condom from his bag.

It only took a moment for him to slip inside you. Once he bottomed out, he stilled for a long moment to allow you both time to adjust. When you started shifting, desperate to feel him, he began to move. It felt like hours passed, feeling Calum fill you in the best way, but you had no way of telling how much time passed as you felt yourself barreling closer and closer to your end. With his thumb on your clit and his lips on your neck, you found yourself unable to do anything but breathe his name.

Your orgasm hit you harder than any other ever had. You imagined it was the build up, the months of verbal foreplay that made the reality that much sweeter, and swore you saw stars as you cried his name. He followed after, his hips stilling against yours as he rode out his own pleasure, and he remained still against you as you both worked to catch your breath.

“That’s definitely not how I expected to spend my Saturday,” you informed him, your voice breathless as he pulled away from you and helped you steady yourself on legs that felt like jelly.

“If telling yourself that helps you sleep at night…” Calum tossed you a wink, his cheeks flushed from the exertion and his hair slightly damp with sweat. “But I don’t hear any complaints.”

“Shut up,” you huffed, biting back laughter as you adjusted your clothes. “No complaints, other than how sore I’m going to be tomorrow. Don’t know if you know this, but ice is really fucking hard and leaves a bruise when you fall on it.”

“Seriously? I had no idea. Come on,” Calum nodded toward the exit, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders as his other held his bag. “There’s a diner near here.”

“Isn’t this a little backward? Sex and then a date?”

“Who said anything about a date?”

When you fixed him with a look, your eyes conveying the panic you felt in that moment, Calum grinned. “We’re not doing anything out of order. What do you call the skating lesson? Give me a little credit, pretty girl.”

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack, Cal,” you huffed, your arms folding over your chest as you let him lead you out of the building.

“Get out of your head and live in the moment. Be aggressive.”

You huffed again, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as you reached out to playfully whack his stomach. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“You have no idea, pretty girl.”

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: .....this got way long. Anyway. I had an idea and ran with it. I really want to go ice skating, my dudes. And hockey!Cal just....does something to me. Also the inspo for this. Oof. I’m sorry.

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[blu-joons]

He Finds Your Sketchbook ~ Kim Taehyung

“Top drawer on the left,” he repeatedly mumbled to himself as he made his way up the stairs to grab your pencil case that Taehyung had asked to borrow from you, making sure he knew exactly where to find it from your desk in your bedroom.

As he pulled out the drawer, his eyes quickly fell on the pencil case just where you’d said it would be, as well as your old sketchbook beside it. Taehyung had always been dying to see your drawings, but each time you always hid them away from him. His hand pressed against the book, glancing back to make sure you weren’t behind him before slowly pulling it out.

He knew that it wasn’t something that he should have been doing, but as he began to turn the first page, he couldn’t help but have a look. As he revealed more of your drawing, the features of what were before him were very prominent indeed, piecing together to create an image of himself.

“Did you find it?” Your voice yelled up the stairs, causing him to jump. As he flinched, your sketchbook fell to the floor, falling onto a different page, revealing yet another drawing of him.

His breath was taken away from him as he studied the drawing closely, remembering the photo you’d taken of him during a trip down to the river, unaware you’d ever decided to draw it up into your book.

You were greeted by silence from Taehyung as you yelled up who was too immersed in your work, deciding to head upstairs yourself to make sure that he had found it. As you reached the top of the stairs, you could hear the sound of paper turning.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, watching his eyes glance across to notice you.

He quickly fumbled to fold the front page of your sketchbook back over, placing it in the drawer to try and pretend that nothing had happened. Your head shook as you walked into the room, taking the book back out and throwing it down onto the bed.

Taehyung took a step back from you, picking up the pencil case that he’d already placed on your desk. “I’m sorry, intrigue just got the better of me and I had to have a look.”

You sat down on the bed and folded the front page over, flicking through all of the pages so that Taehyung could see exactly what your sketchbook consisted off. His jaw hit the floor as he looked over the many drawings you’d created over the years, each one of him from various different occasions.

“If you’ve looked at them, at least tell me what you think,” you sighed, looking up at him, “there’s no point pretending that you’ve not seen it or try to protect my feelings.”

His head shook as he sat down on the bed beside you, looking through the book until he found the photo, he liked the most. It was one you’d taken when he was performing whilst you were in the audience that you decided to draw up.

“I don’t need to spare your feelings; do you have any idea how good these are? Why would you ever hide them from me?” He quizzed, “they’re amazing.”

Your head shook, looking away from his eyes. “I didn’t want you to think that I was strange by drawing you, it’s just something I like to do.”

“These are some of the best drawings that I’ve ever seen of myself and knowing you’re the one responsible for them makes them so much more special,” he assured you, reaching around to rest his hand over yours gently.

“Don’t just say that,” you scolded him.

His head shook, turning the page to look at yet another photo. Taehyung always knew that you had a talent for drawing, your creative side was one of his favourite things about you, something the two of you bonded over very quickly at the start of your relationship.

“I’m not just saying it, these are all amazing, better than anything I could have ever drawn. I wish you would have had a bit more confidence in yourself to show me all of these,” he whispered.

When you first began to doodle in your sketchbook, it felt natural for you to draw Taehyung as you knew all of his features so well. Over time, he was by far your favourite thing to draw, it was the easiest job in the world for you.

Before you knew it, your entire sketchbook was filled up with photos of him, photos that you hoped no one else would ever have to say. Whenever Taehyung asked to have a look at what you were working on, you’d always end up quickly having to find an excuse to make sure that he didn’t get a hold of your book and start looking through everything.

“Do you reckon you could draw a couple more things for me?” He questioned, smiling across at you.

Your head slowly nodded as he moved closer towards you, draping his arm tightly around your shoulder. “Why do you want me to draw anymore?” You quizzed, turning into his body so you could meet his eyes.

“Because I want a couple of these for myself, I want to have them at the dorm so I can show off to everyone how talented you are,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “This is a talent that you shouldn’t keep to yourself.”

“Do you really think that they’re good enough to show?” You asked him.

Immediately, his head nodded, flicking through another couple of drawings, still struggling to believe that anyone could create something as special as you had about him.

“The whole world should see these,” he complimented, nudging your side gently, “I’m glad I ended up finding your sketchbook.”

“You shouldn’t have been snooping, I knew you were up to something.”

His shoulders shrugged innocently, as much as he wanted to apologise for looking through your desk drawer, there was no way that he could apologise for finding your book, he would be forever thankful that he’d found it and finally managed to be able to look through all your work.

“It wasn’t my intention, but you’ve always been so secretive about it all. I wanted to know what the big secret was, and it certainly didn’t let me down.”

“There’s a reason that it was a secret,” you smiled.

Yet again his shoulders shrugged back at you, “it’s not a secret anymore, I want to keep that sketchbook with me forever now.”

“It’s mine,” you protested, pushing it off the bed as Taehyung tried to reach out and grab onto it.

As he missed the book, his hand reached out and clasped around yours, “I wish you wouldn’t underestimate how talented you are sometimes, don’t ever hide any drawings of me you do again, you know how much I love to see them.”

“I won’t hide them anymore,” you assured him, “as long as you don’t snoop.”

“No snooping, I promise,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ve got your pencil case now, so I don’t need to go looking through your drawers again either.”

“At least you got what you actually came up for,” you sighed.

“I got that, and so much more.”

---

Masterlist

[mandoalorian]

Office Surprise [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT

Authors note: Credit goes to one of my besties for coming up with this idea— I hope I executed it alright. Also I wrote this all in one sitting so apologies if it’s a bit muddled, I think it should be okay though. Maxwell and the reader have a pre-existing relationship and it’s inferred that they’ve dated for quite a long while. 

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT | oral (f receiving), use of toys, unprotected p in v, slight praise k!nk/degradation, a little rough, slight dom/sub dynamic if you squint, choking.

Word count: 5k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @ah-callie​ @luvzoria​ @stardust-galaxies​ @wickedfrsgrl​ @goth-topic​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first​ @pedroepascal​

Masterlist

Being the girlfriend of Maxwell Lord certainly wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but as you swiped his platinum black Amex card at the Victoria Secret cashier, you recognised it had its privileges. What did he expect you to do? Sit at home all day reading interior design magazines and baking desserts? No. You were bored. Maxwell had come home every night and complained about his long hard week at work but you knew it couldn’t be as boring as sitting alone in his enormous DC house. It got so incredibly lonely.

You planned on travelling to the city anyways today; to get some final Christmas presents for your friends. And Maxwell’s office just so happened to be located in the city centre and so you figured it would only be polite to pay him a little visit. After all, he surely couldn’t be too busy to see you. You had his driver drop you off and pick you up from the different shops. You had been dating Maxwell long enough to understand the way his mind worked. If you wanted to visit him during one of his busiest work weeks, you’d have to give him a reason to make you want to stay.

You had visited his office plenty of times before. He’d greet you with the same surprised smile and elation in his eyes, but it wouldn’t be long until he put his head back down and ignored you for his work, humming whenever you tried speaking to him and only ever vaguely listening. As Maxwell’s driver took you to your next store of choice, you let your mind ponder ways you could really grab his full attention.

You wanted to have fun. The more your mind raced, the more you wanted to make your visit unforgettable. And that’s when your idea to visit Victoria Secret came to you. You hadn’t been to the store in a while, smiling pleasantly when you were greeted with a happy employee wearing a santa hat. Pulling down your sunglasses in hope she didn’t recognise you, you offered her a smile. “We have our new Christmas range in stock.” she grinned cheerily.

“Take me to it, please,” you replied and the employee nodded excitedly, guiding you through the aisles.

“A lot of red lingerie sets this year.” She held her arms out, showing you the variety. One pieces, two pieces, full blown costumes. One set in particular caught your eye… a lacy number with a small silk ribbon. It was like nothing you owned before and you knew how much Maxwell liked the colour red on you. You took it from the rack. “An excellent choice!” the store assistant beamed. You were ready to pay and leave but then she opened her mouth again. “We have a new range of toys too!” 

Toys? That could be interesting.

Before you knew it, you were in the back of the black limousine, frantically changing out of your clothes and into your newly purchased lingerie. It only took a few minutes for the driver to pull up outside Black Gold Cooperative. You fastened your heels and tied the belt around your knee length crimson coloured coat before stepping out of the car. 

You practically yelped as the cold winter air stung your skin. You weren’t sure how great of an idea it was, to visit Maxwell wearing nothing but lingerie and his favourite coat, but it was too late to have any regrets now. With a confident smile, you pulled off your sunglasses and entered the building through the rotating glass doors.

Maxwell’s assistant and receptionist, both intern age blonde girls, greeted you with a snarl. “You- you aren’t supposed to be here!” His assistant pointed an accusing finger at you. “Mr Lord is fully booked up today and you haven’t made an appointment!” 

“Give me a break,” you rolled your eyes, storming over to the elevator, your heels clicking against the marble floor. You knew they envied you for being the girlfriend of the richest man in America but you didn’t care enough to give them the time of day.

You entered the elevator and let it take you to the very top floor; where Maxwell’s office was.

"Oh hey, look who it is." Bradley Huntington, acting sales manager of Black Gold Cooperative smiled as you stepped out the elevator. Two men who were standing alongside him turned to face you, their jaw dropping slightly as they drunk in your appearance. You refrained from shooting them an eye roll— the men here had absolutely no shame. They wanted you to know that they were watching you.

"Hi boys." you replied with a faux politeness, your ruby red lips curling into a returning smile. "What are you doing out here, chatting by the coffee machine?" you raised a curious eyebrow. "Maxwell going easy on your workload?" You didn't care, you didn't snoop your nose in your boyfriend's business, but you did enjoy pretending like you had some kind of authority as his partner. It was fun to see these slimy grown men panic at your words.

"On a break," Bradley replied plainly, his smirk only growing as he took a step closer to you, breaking any distance. "I don't see you around here much anyway. Was beginning to wonder if you had gotten sick of that old grump and made a run for it." he chuckled, dropping a hand to his hip and pointing his finger at the double doors behind him that lead into Maxwell Lord's office.

You shot him a sweet little giggle, as if to trick him into thinking his flirtations were working. "Leave Maxie?" you laughed. "That cutie wouldn't have a clue what to do without me!" you exclaimed, the wicked smile not leaving your lips for one second. "Now if you excuse me…" you went to enter Maxwell's office but a comment made by Bradley made you pause in your tracks.

"Sweetheart," he laughed. "You belong on MTV, not in an office building or cooped up in Maxwell's bedroom."

"Isn't he Mr Lord to you?" you shot back with a snarl, the smile slipping from his face only momentarily. You grinned when you saw the panic wash over him, his face turning pale with nerves.

"Uh actually- me and Mr Lord- me and Maxwell, are good friends. We're on first name basis." Bradley fumbled out. You wanted to laugh at his lame attempt of a smooth recovery. You knew that wasn't true at all.

"Good friends huh?" you folded your arms across your chest.

"Mm," Bradley mumbled, stepping closer to you and placing his hand over your coat. "Take your coat off, you must be hot." You felt your heart jump and a sickness bubble up in your stomach. Bradley really was slimy.

"I'm good." you shot back. Bradley shrugged and reached down to the belt that was holding your coat together. He slowly leaned into you and you quickly pushed him off you. Bradley stumbled back into an abundance of chairs, knocking a few over in the process.

"Darling?" You felt your heart rate increase speed when you heard your boyfriend's voice. Your head turned to face Maxwell who was standing by his office door, scowling. You looked back at Bradley who's colour had completely drained out of his face and you beamed.

"Maxie!" you smiled, walking over to your boyfriend and protectively placing a hand under his suit jacket and setting place on his chest. His scowl didn't move from Bradley as he slid an arm around your waist, holding you tight.

"Thought I could hear your voice," Maxwell whispered in your ear causing a frenzy of butterflies to erupt in your stomach. "What are you doing here?"

"Just came to catch up with your friends." you teased. Maxwell lifted a curious eyebrow.

"Is that so?" he quizzed, beginning to feel irritated by the presence of his employees, and even more annoyed by the lilt in your voice that suggested you wanted to play with him.  "I hope Bradley wasn't causing any fuss." Maxwell raised his voice and Bradley shook his head furiously.

"N-no sir, not at all." Bradley said quickly, offering the CEO a nervous smile. You bit your lip and gently tugged on Maxwell's tie.

"Baby," you whined out, looking up at him through your fluttering eyelashes. "Can we go into your office?" you asked sweetly. Maxwell finally tore his eyes from an anxious Bradley and smiled down at you.

"Of course darling." he replied, ushering you through the door.

"Bye boys! Behave!" you called, shooting them one last smirk.

"Alright come on now." Maxwell sighed, placing his hand into the small of your back and pushing you into his office.

You padded into his huge office, placing your purse and shopping bags down on one of the chairs. Before Maxwell entered, he made sure to shoot Bradley one final death glare. Maxwell locked the double doors and turned around. He grabbed you by the collar of your red coat and pinned you to the door, pressing his lips against yours passionately. In fact, so passionately, you wondered if his harshness would leave a bruise. He bit down on your lower lip, his hand snapping ahold of your neck causing a small gasp escape your lips. Maxwell pulled away, his breathing heavy against your skin. "What happened?" he gritted out, looking up at you with lust-blown eyes.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him off you, walking away from where he had pinned you against the door. "Nothing, just your sleazy coworkers not knowing when to give up." you rolled your eyes, checking your appearance in the mirror and fixing your lipstick as it had smudged from the kiss.

"Bradley," Maxwell exhaled, his eye contact not breaking from you once. "Did he touch you?"

"Enough to make me uncomfortable? Yes. But I got him off me. I can handle myself, Maxie." you sighed, fixing your hair and turning back to your boyfriend.

"I know you can," Maxwell said lowly, slowly approaching you. You recognised that primal glint lighting up in his eyes and you smiled. "What did he say to you?"

"Said I shouldn't spend all day cooped up at home, or here, in your office. He said I was pretty enough to be on MTV." you beamed proudly and Maxwell grunted, nodding slowly. He placed a hand, cupping your face and rubbed his thumb along the high of your cheekbones.

"He must've been feeling bold, hitting on you like that." Maxwell tutted. You nuzzled your face into his hand, the coolness of his gold rings making you wince only slightly.

"What do you think Maxie?" you asked, your voice as sweet as honey. "Am I pretty enough to be on television?" you let your hands pull off his suit jacket and roam over his white button down shirt, tugging teasingly at his suspenders as you waited for a response.

But Maxwell didn't stay a word. He looked down at you with his lust-blown eyes and ran his thumb over the plumpless of your lower lip. You parted your mouth, taking his finger and sucking on the digit. Maxwell mewled as he watched you intently, admiring the work of your mouth. You pulled your lips away from his finger with a pop and beamed proudly when you saw the slight blush that crossed his face.

"I think you show up at my work uninvited, dressed like that, flirting with my employees…" he scowled, his gaze not lifting from you once. You wanted to fight him for accusing you of flirting with other men, but you knew him. And he knew you. He knew you would always be faithful; he was just playing a game. Another one of Maxwell Lord's twisted games that you had grown accustomed too. He had that look in his eye— the one you were all too familiar with. It was almost predatory. He tsked, shaking his head and letting out a small chuckle. "Look at you, here, in my office, thinking you can call the shots. I'm busy darling, go home."

"Oh," you hummed, biting your lip and twiddling with your hair. "Because if you're too busy... Bradley offered me-" Your lilt was teasing and you could tell it was making him feel defensive. You knew how protective he got over you.

"What?" Maxwell sneered, his hand dropping to the belt that held your coat together.

You gulped, knowing that if he just tugged a little harder on the belt, your little surprise for him would be revealed. "He- uhm, he-"

"C'mon honey, spit it out." Maxwell smirked, loving the jumbled reaction he was getting out of you, although he was unsure why you were suddenly so nervous when you had walked into his office so confidently. His hands didn't leave your belt and you took a deep breath, looking up at him and into his eyes.

"Said that if I ever get bored of you, I know where to find him." You pursed your lips together and shot him a devilish smile.

"Tell me darling," Maxwell hummed, his hand once again reaching up to your face, his finger brushing over your lips. "What urged you to come to my office in the middle of the day when you know I'm swarmed with work?" he narrowed his eyes.

"I got bored." you admitted sheepishly, swaying your hips from side to side.

"So you come to my work… act like a brat and…" Maxwell paused when he saw you pout. "What?"

"I didn't do anything wrong Maxie." you whined. "Was all them. Was all Bradley." 

"You have everything at home. Everything you need to keep you occupied." Maxwell glanced over at your shopping bags that were on his chair. "Spending my money?" Maxwell asked and you nodded shyly.

"But I think you'll like it." you told him, biting your lip.

"Show me."

You placed his hands back on the belt of your coat. "See for yourself." you whispered with a smirk.

Taking the hint, Maxwell slowly tugged on your belt that was tying your coat together. Coming loose, your coat opened up, revealing the lace red lingerie set you were doting, and nothing else. Maxwell's gaze fell from your face to your body as he revelled in the gorgeous sight that stood before him. You stood there in silence for a few seconds, as he drunk in every inch of your body.

"You've been wearing that this whole time?" Maxwell swallowed, staring at your tits. Finally he brought himself to look up at your face, taking a deep breath and straightening his posture. "While you were talking to Brad-"

"Max please," you rolled your eyes, shuffling out of the coat and letting it drop to the floor.

"I've never seen it before." Maxwell admitted.

"It's new," you told him, taking a step closer and pulling off his suit jacket, letting it pool on the floor alongside your winter coat. "Got it for you. You like it?" you smiled, twirling around and giving him a little dance. Your heels clicked against the marble floor as you spun around for him. Maxwell didn't say anything, but if the bulge in his tailored pants was anything to go off… you giggled. "Oh Maxie, you do like it."

Maxwell cleared his throat. "Whilst you do look ravishing, I am busy so-" 

"But I wasn't finished showing you what I bought." you poured, blinking your doe-like eyes and folding your arms over your chest, the lace grazing your skin.

Maxwell shook his head and walked back over to his desk, sinking into his office chair. He cursed under his breath as he began to palm himself under his desk knowing you wouldn't be able to see. He looked down at the abundance of papers, trying to concentrate, but it wasn't working. Giving in, he looked back over to you.

You were bent over, rummaging through one of your shopping bags in search of something. Your legs were spaced apart so perfectly, Maxwell knew you must've been doing it on purpose— to tease him. His eyes felt heavy as he watched you, his fingers grazing over his throbbing length. He felt so restricted, so confined… but he didn't want to give you the liberty of knowing what you had done to him. When he saw you straighten yourself back up, he looked back down at the stack of papers on his desk. 

You picked out a long black box with no markings, and placed it before Maxwell on his desk. Maxwell looked up at you, waiting for an explanation. "What is it?" he asked and you shrugged nonchalantly.

"Open it." you urged with a smile. Maxwell hesitated, his gaze wandering to the locked door, back to you, and then down at the matte box. He carefully undone the ribbon that wrapped it and opened the lid. Rummaging amongst the tissue, his eyes glinted with desire and wicked delight upon finding what you had bought. He couldn't help but smirk. "Well?" you cooed, perching yourself on the corner of your desk.

Maxwell nodded, not saying a word. He took the purple vibrator out of the box and put it down on the desk next to his stationary. "This couldn't have waited until I got home?" he quizzed, his voice breaking slightly. You grinned and shook your head. "I see."

"Am I in trouble?" you pouted and Maxwell's smirk grew. He pushed the papers and the stationary from his desk, clearing it of room.

"Lie down." he demanded and you squealed excitedly. You reached down to your feet to unclip your heels when Maxwell brought his hand to your neck. "No. Keep them on." he ordered sternly. You bit your lip and nodded, obeying his request. His large hand still wrapped around your neck, he carefully pushed you into the table.

The coolness of the expensive oak made you squirm. Maxwell walked around his desk, grabbing your legs and dragging your body further down closer to him. He spread them apart and began to kiss along your thighs. "I do love this colour on you." he mumbled into your skin, his fingers gracing your soaked core through the red lace. You shivered under his touch and you swore you could feel his smirk press into your skin.

"I know." you admitted with a shaky exhale. He wasted no time teasing. He thought it was only fair he got a little payback. The curve of his nose nudged against your clit as he pressed soft kisses into your cunt.

You brought your hands down to your panties in attempt to wriggle them off and free yourself but Maxwell's large ring clad hands stopped you. "Patience." he muttered and you let out a whine as he licked you through the material.

"Please," you begged, your toes curling with pleasure as he kisses around your entrance. 

"I thought you bought this lingerie for me, baby," Maxwell chuckled, his warm breath going straight through your core.

"I did." you muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as he continued to kiss and lick.

"So let me enjoy it," he growled, lifting his head up from between your legs and fumbling with the little red bow at the top of your panties. "It's cute." Maxwell smiled and you felt your cheeks heat up. He pulled your legs further down and you wrapped them around his waist as he leaned over your body.

Hovering over you, he pressed a soft kiss into your neck and began to palm at your breast, running his thumb over your hardening nipple as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You brought your hands up to his hair and laced your fingers in his dark blonde locks, tugging on it just the way you knew he liked. You wondered if he was going to even take your bra off; heck— you wondered if he was going to take his own clothes off. He was standing over you in his suit pants and white work shirt, although the tie and the suspenders had been ditched.

You were breathless when Maxwell pulled away from your lips and his hand wrapped around your throat again, squeezing gently. The pressure made you gasp out a soft moan as he brought his kisses down your neck and along your collarbones, down the valley of your breasts and your stomach until his head was positioned back in between your legs.

"You're exquisite." Maxwell sighed, raking in his view.  He pressed his middle finger and index finger into your core, feeling how damp your panties already were. "All for me?" he cooed, his brown eyes sparkling with delight. He switched over to his thumb where he began to rub your clit. "Such a good girl." he praised, beginning to tear away your new underwear from your body.

Pretty soon, your red panties were thrown aimlessly on the floor along with Maxwell's suit jacket and your winter coat and Maxwell wasted no time into latching his mouth onto your pussy. You practically screamed at the way his tongue worked within you, lapping up all your arousal like he hadn't had a decent meal in his life. "Hungry?" you joked breathlessly. Not in the mood, Maxwell didn't unattach his lips from you but he did insert two of his fingers without warning. You found yourself arching your back, moaning wantonly as he worked through your core. His groans as he sucked on your clit left vibrations rifle through your body as his fingers pounded inside of you. Obscene wet sounds echoed through his office as a result from his actions.

You dug your heels into his back and felt your legs start to shake uncontrollably as his movements became faster and more intense. His hands grabbed your thighs as he tried to steady you but it was barely any use. Seeing that you were close, he kept up his stamina until your climax ripped through your body, soaking his lips dripping down his chin. When he pulled away, you felt yourself blush at the state he was in. His hair had fallen out of place and his face was glistening with a mixture of his sweat and your juices.

Maxwell unclipped his gold cufflinks, tossing them on the floor and rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. Just as you were about to thank him, his hand reached over to the vibrator. "M-Max," you tried to protest as he flicked the switch. It began to buzz erratically and he spent a few moments accustoming himself to the different speeds and pressures. "Max." you wriggled, trying to sit up, but he pushed you back down, hushing you. The least he could do was wait until you had recovered from your first orgasm, but no. He pressed the vibrator to your clit casually and another gasp tore through you. "Max!" you yelled and he chuckled.

"I like this one." he grinned, adjusting the speed and watching you toss and turn on his desk.

"Fuck, Max," you yelped, your fingers curling into a fist as you began to feel that familiar warmth in your stomach signifying that you were close.

"Aw, you going to cum again?" Maxwell chuckled, turning up the speed to the highest setting. "Look at you, all spread out on my desk screaming my name."

Your vision became hazy and your eyes snapped shut as your orgasm hit you leaving you dizzy and panting. Maxwell shut off the vibrator and tossed it to one side. You groaned, holding your face in your hands as you came down your high. Maxwell stared at you, all messed up on his desk, and he couldn't rid himself of his smile.

You looked down to see his damage. "Oh Maxie," you whimpered, reaching your hands out when you saw the bulge stretching out his tailored pants. You sat upright and Maxwell gave you a small kiss on the head. "Let me help you." you whispered, moving your hands to his zipper but he swatted them away. You looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows as he tsked you. "Maxwell Lord denying head?" you scoffed, reaching back out to his pants. Your fingers only slightly brushed over his length but it was enough to make him shudder. He pushed you back into the oak desk for a third time.

"Stay." he commanded, his voice gruff as he ran his fingers through his hair and pushed his locks out of his face. His eyes were practically black as he examined you, pushing apart your legs and running his fingers along your dripping folds.

"Stop- teasing-" you growled, tossing your head back. "You- you've already got two orgasms out of me."

"And I know I can get one more." Maxwell snarled, unzipping his pants and pulling out his rock hard length. He collected the beads of his precum and rubbed it over his throbbing cock, just the gentlest of strokes almost pushing him over the edge.

You were too busy staring at the pretty gold pattern in the ceiling, a feeling of pure blissed out euphoria washed over your spent body, when you felt your boyfriend's cock push between your entrance. "How's this?" Maxwell grunted as he snapped his hips deep inside of you. "Could Bradley do this?"

You curled your hands into a fist as he thrust deep inside of you, repeating his movements hard and fast with no mercy. "Sh- shut upppp." you whined, grabbing onto his biceps as he pushed his body over yours to hit at a deeper angle. He laughed and pressed his hand into your throat once more.

"Ngh- so pretty," he cursed under his breath. You closed your eyes. "Look at me," he hissed, and you obliged as he proceeded to fuck the life out of you. "So good to me." he praised.

"Max," you wailed as his cock pressed into your sweet spot.

"Is that good for you?" he bit his lip, his fingers digging into your skin so hard you were sure it would leave marks.

"Mhmmm," You agreed. "Maxxxxx."

"Yeah baby?"  the use of his little names for you only riled you on more and eventually he felt your walls squeeze around his cock as you came undone.

"I want you to cum in me," you begged, your eyes glossy and pleading as your final orgasm washed over you.

"Will you promise to me a good girl?" he asked you and you squirmed under his praise.

"I'm always a good girl," you breathed out. "Always good for you Maxie."

"Yeah," Maxwell moaned, and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. He pressed a sloppy kiss into your neck and pushed deep into you, biting his teeth into the skin of your jaw. With one final hard thrust he was spilling inside of you.

Maxwell steadied himself, his cock softening inside of you until eventually it slipped out. You moaned at the loss of the fullness and he shuddered, quickly tucking himself back into his pants and zipping himself up. It only took a few seconds for him to notice his cum leaking from your pussy. With shaky legs, he padded to the drawer under his desk, unlocking it and taking out some silk handkerchiefs. He opened your legs gently and began to clean you up with the utmost care and affection.

"How do you feel?" he whispered into the shell of your ear, discarding the handkerchief when he was finished. He helped you sit upright and pulled you onto his lap, smoothing out your hair.

"Tired," you whispered, nuzzling your face into his chest. He kissed your forehead and wrapped his arms around your practically naked body, his strong arms holding you still and steady.

"I get off in three hours, why don't you take a nap on my sofa and then we can go home together?" Maxwell suggested.

"Mmm," you smiled, closing your eyes. "Or I could just stay here. Like this? But oh- you have that meeting…" you sighed. You went to stand up but Maxwell's grip around you tightened.

"Darling, stay here," you cooed. "I can cancel the meeting. It is my company after all. Besides, I'd rather be here with you."

You felt yourself blush. "You know Maxie, I do love you. So much." 

"I know," Maxwell answered, his voice unrecognisably soft. "I love you too." He didn't say those three words often, but you knew that deep down he meant it. He loved you. "Oh, and thanks for the surprise."