#dropped everything to draw this scene

[masonjarart]

"My last sin is that I hate you"

[shadelorde]

grumpy,,,,

[shannanigan-art]

“She’s already dead, and I keep my promises.”

[mimzaucracks]

Superquest doodles

I'm an ardent the-other-three-1987-turtles-would-just-laugh-at-Raphael-and-his-misfortunes-in-the-episode truther, which resulted in possibly one of my most fun and favourite doodle dumps.

These drawings are specifically how I imagine the 1987 turtles would've/could've been in that episode.

[gilfrespecter]

Listening to coinstar by the growlers and thinking about mel so hard I get nauseous

Ridiculous stream of conscious in the tags apologies but not really

[earl-grey-crow]

✨pond theories✨

[varjopeura]

a tomtom

[rafesangelita]

so anyway I was thinking about something about bitchy!Kook!reader (since she's my ultimate favorite)

maybe rafe has gifted her a promise ring at some point in their relationship, and despite all their highs and lows, even in their worst nights, she has NEVER taken it off

and maybe they are in a heated argument and they're mad at each other (but not broken up, just mad) and they are attending a party and he notices that she isn't wearing it, so he loses his absolute shit and drags her somewhere, making a scene and telling her how much he cares about her (in his own way, ofc) and how hurt he is until she simply smirks and tells him that she's taken it off because she's getting it cleaned up

-🦉

warnings: arguing, slight angst, light fluff

a/n: join my private community for girly talks! ��� you can comment under this post, send me a message, or leave something in my ask box for an invitation!

“can you fix your face? ‘at least try to act like you want to be here with me right now?” rafe whispered in your ear, a slight pinch of irritation lacing his tone. you swallowed thickly, flashing him a glare as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders so he wouldn’t draw any unnecessary attention towards you two. “i told you i wanted to leave a long time ago and instead of wrapping things up, you disappeared for another drink. i’ve been sitting here on this couch with you for over two hours now, listening to your idiot friends talk about their latest escapades. how about you fix your fucking face?”

rafe looked around to make sure no one caught any of the words that just left your mouth, his jaw clenching as he gripped you by the back of your neck. “is that how you’re gonna act right now? that’s what we’re doing?” at this, you trailed a hand down rafe’s stomach, your nails digging into his flesh hard enough to make him hiss and let go of you. “grab me like that again and i’ll leave your ass in front of everybody.” rafe knew that wasn’t an empty threat, considering you’ve already done it before and topper still hasn’t let him live the embarrassment down.

rafe gave you a curt nod, his eyes raking down your form before they rested on your bare fingers. “what the fuck?” he spoke out loud, the group conversation coming to a halt. without another word, rafe got up, dragging you along with him as he guided you two outside to his truck. “oh, now you wanna go home?” you scoffed, managing to pull away from him before he hoisted you into the passenger’s seat, his body wedged between the door as he took ahold of your hands. “i know we’ve been fighting a lot recently, and i’m sure we get on each other’s nerves all the time, but taking off your ring? are you fucking serious?”

your eyebrows knitted in confusion, your mouth barely opening before rafe started going on a rampage. “i bought you that ring to uphold a promise to you, y/n, and i’ve kept it. through all of our bullshit, through all of our problems, through damn near everything; you’ve never taken that ring off. even when we were close to leaving each other once and for all, you were still wearing it. that ring saved us, and now? you’re just giving up like that?” rafe sounded pained, his voice dropping slightly as his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. “rafe—” you tried to interject again, but still he continued.

“i love you, and i know i fucking suck at showing it, but you know i do. you’re the only person who puts up with my shit and still loves me as i am. you work with me even though i make it really hard, and you don’t throw my mistakes in my face every chance you get. you’re patient with me when i least deserve it.. i could go on and on about everything you do for me.. please just put your ring back on.” you weren’t expecting rafe to pour his heart out to you, your anger from earlier dissipating into nothing as your gaze softened. “i can’t—” rafe groaned, kneeling down onto the step bar of the truck as he held your hands to his chest.

“why?!” you couldn’t help but laugh, your resolve crumbling as rafe looked up at you desperately. “what’s so funny? i’m literally about to have a panic attack right now.” you laughed harder, shaking your head. “rafe, i’m getting my ring cleaned! i’ve been trying to tell you since you dragged me out here but you kept interrupting me.” your boyfriend let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders falling in relief. “when did you take it?” you helped him off his knees, rolling your eyes as he pulled you into his embrace. “remember, i told you i was going to the mall with chanel? i dropped it off there and i’m supposed to go back for it tomorrow..”

rafe nodded, his hands running up and down your back. “well, we better get you another ring for when you’re getting the other one cleaned. i can’t have you giving me heart attacks like that.”

[cherriicou]

oh my god please write an older bf!mingyu i love ur scoups one sm 💗 (did i mention to put creampie in? did i) 👁️👁️ thank u babes mwah

hehe ofc! glad u enjoyed it mwahaha

olderbf! mingyu x college student! reader (f)

a/n; pls don’t use tinder guys… // word count; 1.2K

content; age gap, size difference, overstimulation, consensual recording, sending nudes, creampie, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, spanking, car sex, public/semi-public sex, degradation, praise kink, riding, smut with the smallest amount of plot

OLDER BF!MINGYU who met you through a dating app his friend forced him to go on. he usually ignored all the young girls who sent him thirsty messages and had their bodies on display on their profile. but you were different. only cute selfies, cat pictures, and your interests were shown on your page, drawing him to get interested in you. so he messaged you first!

OLDER BF!MINGYU who noticed your like in art so he immediately suggested taking you to a museum as your first date <3 he was the sweetest man you’ve ever met. yes, he was way older than you but it made everything 10x better. he knew how to treat you well, he made you feel safe, and he even dropped so many compliments on you that day it made you squirm in your seat.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who noticed you staring at his arms every time he helped you pick up something or every time he extended his arm out to pay for your meal. his ego was boosted then, making sure to flex them every once in a while when he saw you looking. you looked so adorable, your pretty face blushing, thighs squeezing together while admiring him. he needed you.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who, at first, tries to be soft with you. you were so much smaller than him, he was almost scared he’d break you :< that was until you started playing little games. bending down when you decided to wear no panties under your dress or skirt, fingers grazing over his crotch while you had dinner. all while giving him a innocent look. oh, he was tired of playing nice with you.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who has you salivating all over your chin and tits. he’s fucking your face so roughly, your makeup is completely ruined and you have no thoughts whatsoever as he holds your face firmly with his hands. ‘fucking brat’, as he stared straight into your eyes, groaning from the tears that started to fall down. he was not afraid to show you that he was enjoying the way your mouth was taking him in so well.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who loves to overstimulate you. he knows you love it despite your whines, ‘g-gyu no more,’ as you try to push his head away from your sensitive pussy. but he just continues licking and sucking on the spot he knows drives you crazy. you don’t even realize it, but you start grinding on his mouth, feeling the smile form on his lips. ‘doesn’t seem like you want me to stop, baby.’ god, he could taste you all fucking day while having you squirm over him. lapping your juices for being such a good girl the other day while you took his cock in your mouth <3

OLDER BF!MINGYU who takes and picks you up from college; his expensive car catching the eyes of others as you happily walk to greet your boyfriend. glaring through his window to any of the young guys looking at you get into his car. oh, and his favorite thing is take your mind off the stressful day that just passed. panties shoved to the side as he plunges his fingers in and out of you while driving home. 'that's it, princess. use my fingers,' your moans and whimpers take over the entire car as you hold onto the arm that he is using to pleasure you in the passenger seat. his eyes directed towards you every once in a while to see the fucked out expression on your face. he doesn’t care if people can see the lewd scene from outside, as long as you’re taken care of!

OLDER BF!MINGYU who LOVES to fill you up. 'where you want it, baby?' sweat glistening on his forehead as he continuously rams into your sweet spot, orgasm right on edge. 'i-inside, please,' he already knows you want it in you, but he just loves hearing you say it while he's fucking you. his grip on your hips gets harder, making you squirm in both pain and pleasure. his thrusts get stronger as he finishes inside you, making sure all of it is released in your abused hole. 'fuck, look at that,' his breathless groans let out as he pulls his cock out of your sensitive cunt. he takes his phone from the bedside table, and you hear the sound of the record button as he spreads your ass out. both of your cum leaking out of your pussy so nicely. you think he's done until he uses his fingers to take as much fluid as he can to shove it right back inside your hole :3 'ah g-gyu..,' you let out. he smiles at your coos, landing a playful smack against your ass before pulling you up to kiss your lips.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who is annoyed at this stupid meeting his employees set up with him. he just nods away, eyes locked on the presentation, mind spinning faster than he could organize his thoughts. ding! he reached for his phone to find messages from you, as well as a video linked to it. 'miss you <3,' he smiles at the cute text, then opens the video to find himself growing hard and smiled swept away. it's a video of you, one hand holding the phone to show your naked body while the other hand is rubbing your clit. he turns down the volume completely before your moans can be heard in the basically quiet conference room. he's livid. you're at home, smiling at the 'seen' notification on your phone. it wasn't until time passed you started to worry, not a single message was sent back from him. you're screwed.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who has you bent over his lap, fingers messing with your pussy for what seems like hours. your ass was practically red and bruised from the amount of smacks it has taken. all while you plead, 'mm sorry gyu please,' he smiles. you think he is going to give into you fully, ready for him to put you in missionary or on all fours. but no. instead, he lays down with a cocky look on his face at your confused, needy expression. 'come sit on it, doll,' he can't be serious. he puts his hands behind his head, eyes never leaving you as your legs tremble. trying to put as much energy as you can to climb on top of him and fully sit on his cock. the pleasured look on your face almost makes him fold, he wanted to take care of you himself but you needed to learn. learn that needy girls don’t get awarded.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who almost feels bad for you. you're struggling so much to grind on dick :< the burn your thighs are feeling is insane, and he is just staring you down. 'g-gyu,' you whine while fighting for your life to continue riding him. 'hm? gonna cum, already?,' you nod, hands placed on his chest to try to help your body stabilize. your eyes meet his again and you give him the biggest pout, gasping as he finally thrusts into you once roughly, 'gonna make a mess on my cock like some needy slut?,' his hands grab onto your hips. he's being so mean but you know you'll love it later.

OLDER BF! MINGYU who thinks you've been punished enough and plants his feet flat on the bed, then immediately starts to fuck up into you. the tip of his meanly thick cock repeatedly slamming into your cervix. his hands frantically touching you all over your body, from your tits to your neck, to even putting his thumb into your mouth as you struggle to take what he's giving you. 'mm my sweet girl,' you salivate around his fingers as you feel yourself about to cum. you should take more pics often..

[aneertawrites]

jealous!Sylus x fem!Reader

a/n : saw this edit on tiktok and got the urge to write... ++ the green eyes are a metaphor for jealousy! sorry for the confusion <3

tags : light choking, thigh smacking, jealous sylus, porn w no plot, oral sex (reader receiving), raw sex, rough sex, yeah....

The room was stifling — not from heat, but from tension. Laughter rang out, glasses clinked, and a hundred dignitaries buzzed with small talk beneath golden chandeliers. You stood near the bar, dress hugging your frame just right, heels biting into the polished floor. You’d worn this to be taken seriously.

But the man beside you had other ideas.

A diplomat. Polished smile. Lazy eyes that kept dropping to your chest like it was a conversational cue. He was leaning closer now, voice a little lower, fingers brushing your arm as if it were casual.

It wasn’t.

You didn’t recoil. That would draw attention. Instead, you gave a tight smile and angled your body just enough to distance yourself — not enough to cause a scene, but enough that he would notice.

And he did.

Across the room, you could feel Sylus’s gaze like a hot wire threading through your spine.

He stood near the edge of the crowd, drink untouched in his hand, suit tailored so sharply it cut. His expression was unreadable — not angry, not even annoyed. Just… focused. Like a predator watching someone else circle his territory.

You turned back to the diplomat and forced a laugh at some forgettable joke. But your attention was split — half on this conversation, the other locked onto the man across the room whose patience was starting to burn.

When the diplomat finally excused himself, you exhaled. And then Sylus was there.

Not a second later. Not two.

“I thought you were working,” he murmured, voice low and calm, but loaded.

“I was.” You tilted your head, studying him. “Didn’t realize conversation counted as betrayal now.”

“He was flirting.”

“Barely.”

“He wanted to fuck you.”

Your breath hitched — not at the words, but at the cold certainty behind them. Sylus’s voice didn’t rise. He didn’t look flustered or possessive in the way other men might. No, he was composed. Still. Like someone who already knew he owned the battlefield.

And the way he was looking at you now?

Like he owned you, too.

“You’re imagining things,” you said — a challenge, not a denial.

His lips curled. Not a smile. A warning.

“Come with me.”

You didn’t ask where.

Didn’t need to.

He led you down one of the quieter halls — away from the glittering noise, past locked doors and diplomatic signage. The second he found a private room — lights low, a lounge clearly reserved for someone far above your paygrade — he keyed it open and pulled you inside.

The door hissed shut behind you.

Silence.

You turned to face him, but he was already on you.

One hand gripped your jaw, tilting your face up, and the other flattened over your lower back, pulling you flush against him.

“You want to let men like that flirt with you?” he murmured, voice quiet but sharp as broken glass. “Then look at me when they do it.”

You gasped as his mouth crashed into yours — hard, punishing, furious. The kiss tasted like jealousy and unspoken obsession. Like everything he’d been holding back since the moment the diplomat touched you.

His hand slid from your jaw to your throat — not choking, not quite — but firm enough to own. You whimpered into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound greedily.

“You think I’ll just stand there while someone else imagines how you sound when you come?” he rasped, voice like smoke. “Not a fucking chance.”

You didn’t get a chance to answer.

He spun you, pressing your back to the wall, grinding his hips into yours so you felt just how hard he was. Every line of his body screamed restraint — but it was unraveling fast.

“Sylus—”

“You’re mine,” he growled, mouth against your ear, one hand trailing down your side, over the swell of your ass. “Say it.”

You swallowed, breathing fast. “I’m yours.”

His teeth grazed your shoulder, not gently.

And then he was everywhere, hands pushing up your dress, lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck as he shoved your panties aside. His fingers brushed through your folds, and he hissed.

“Dripping for me,” he muttered, smirking against your throat. “You like it when I get like this.”

You gasped as he slid two fingers inside you — thick, deep, curling just right. You bucked into his hand, shameless already, grinding against him.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Be greedy for it. I want to feel how bad you need me.”

You moaned, breath stuttering as his thumb found your clit and started tight, perfect circles. The pressure built fast, too fast, your thighs shaking, your voice caught in your throat.

But then he stopped.

You whined, frustrated — hips jerking forward, chasing friction.

He chuckled darkly, lips brushing your ear. “Not yet. You don’t get to come until you mean it.”

“Mean what?” you panted, eyes wild.

“That you’re mine.” He reached around and unzipped his pants, dragging his cock against your slick heat teasingly. “All the way. Not just when it feels good.”

You looked back at him — flushed, half-dazed, aching. “I’m yours, Sylus.”

His eyes blazed.

And then he was inside you.

One hard thrust — deep, brutal — and your mouth fell open in a silent scream. He didn’t give you time to adjust. Just pulled out and slammed in again, setting a pace that was fast, relentless, perfect.

You braced against the wall, moaning, gasping, crying out his name as he pounded into you — thick and heavy and everywhere.

“That’s it,” he growled, voice low and vicious. “Let them hear you. Let them all fucking hear how good I fuck what’s mine.”

You shattered.

No warning, no buildup — just white heat and pleasure so sharp it tore a scream from your throat. You clenched around him, whole body convulsing, and Sylus groaned, slamming in harder, deeper, his rhythm breaking.

“Gonna fill you up,” he rasped. “Gonna mark you from the inside out.”

You moaned his name, and he followed — hips grinding deep as he came, hot and thick inside you, holding you so tight you thought he might bruise your hips.

You were still gasping when he pulled out of you, slow, deliberate — and the heat of him spilled down your thigh, warm and obscene.

You tried to catch your breath, head falling back against the wall, but Sylus didn’t move away. Didn’t even give you space to think.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, breath ragged. His voice was quieter now, rough around the edges. “I should stop.”

You blinked, dazed. “Then why haven’t you?”

He smirked.

Because you both knew the answer.

He gripped your jaw, angling your face toward his. “You let him touch your arm,” he murmured, like he was still tasting that fact on his tongue. “Let him lean in. You smiled for him.”

Your chest rose and fell — fast, desperate. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Then you won’t mind if I fuck you until it does.”

That growl in his voice made your pussy clench all over again.

Without warning, he dropped to his knees in front of you, hands dragging your thighs apart, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. He looked up once, green eyes stormy with hunger.

Then he devoured you.

Not gentle. Not teasing. His mouth was wet heat and filthy precision, tongue flicking and circling your clit with sharp, relentless purpose. You cried out, hips jerking, trying to squirm away from the overstimulation, but his grip on your thighs tightened, holding you in place like a man possessed.

“You don’t get to run,” he muttered between licks, voice vibrating straight through your cunt. “Not from this. Not from me.”

You were already so raw, every nerve electric, and now he was dragging you back up the edge — fast, merciless. You were moaning like a damn prayer, head thrown back, hands in his hair, thighs shaking around his head.

He sucked your clit hard, once, twice — and you came again with a sob, pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. Your knees nearly buckled, but he caught you, hands firm under your thighs as he kept eating you through it.

“Fuck—Sylus—sensitive, I can’t—”

“Yes,” he growled, standing again, towering over you now, voice harsh and hungry. “You can. You will.”

He shoved his pants lower again, cock already hard, again, and this time, he didn’t even bother positioning you.

He manhandled you onto the nearest velvet lounge, pulled your legs open wide, and slid back inside with one brutal thrust that made you scream.

No warm-up. No restraint.

Just raw, unforgiving heat.

He fucked you like he needed to ruin you, like nothing short of breaking you open would be enough to satisfy the jealousy still burning under his skin. His grip bruised your hips, his pace punishing, deep, his pelvis grinding against your overstimulated clit with every stroke.

“You’re mine,” he snarled, eyes locked on yours, sweat slick on his brow. “Say it again. Scream it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, head falling back.

“Louder.”

You cried out, voice cracking. “I’m yours, Sylus—fuck, I’m yours!”

He slapped your thigh — not hard, just enough to make you jolt. “Don’t you forget it.”

You were close again, ridiculously fast — his cock hitting every perfect spot, his hand reaching down to rub your clit again despite the tears pricking at your eyes from the intensity.

“Come on my cock,” he demanded, voice a low snarl. “One more. I want to feel you break.”

You shattered.

Your whole body bowed off the lounge, legs locking around him as your orgasm slammed through you — harder than the last, deep and full and wrecking. Your vision blurred. You sobbed his name.

He groaned like a man unhinged and slammed into you once, twice, deep — then came with a guttural sound, hips grinding into you, his seed spilling inside you for the second time. Hot. Heavy. Claiming.

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t pull out.

Just stayed inside you, panting hard against your neck, arms around you like he needed to anchor himself.

You were both trembling, breathless.

“I need you to know something,” he whispered against your skin, voice quieter now, but still sharp. “That I will not share. Not even your attention. Not your smile. Not a fucking glance.”

You turned your face toward his, blinking through the heat and fog. “Then keep reminding me like this.”

His lips brushed yours.

“I will.”

masterlist

taglist : @etsuniiru @kyokoyya @i-messed-up-big-time @firefly1103 @gracekerzzz @mcdepressed290 @sylusgirlie7 @plzdonutpercieveme @m00nchildwrites

[kyri45]

A final letter

Hello Everyone!

The queue is paused and everything is scheduled, which means we are ready for the finale!

I know that, in the end, this was just a silly side project for me, with everything else going on in my life. But for this occasion, I wanted to drop some words here and hope they make sense.

I started watching LMK only because a friend told me there was a "Sonadow-coded" ship. I ended up consuming the entire thing in one sitting on July 10th, 2024. At the time, I was still recovering from a bike accident that had left me with a broken right forearm—unable to draw for a little over a month. (I did try drawing with my left finger, but it wasn't exactly fun.)

Not only that, but it was summer, and I couldn’t enjoy the season or practice my main sport, windsurfing. To say I was feeling the blues is an understatement. I remember being in physical pain just from not being able to draw my sillies. But then, watching LMK did something to my brain chemistry that my little undiagnosed autistic self had never experienced before. It hit so hard that I’ve been physically unable to rewatch the show SINCE that very first day. (And y’all still call me the CEO of this fandom. Bro, I just work here.)

A lot of you have asked what inspired me to start this comic or to draw LMK fan art in the first place. While my usual answer is, "I saw Shadowpeach and thought MK could be their lovechild, given his appearance," the moment that actually started it all was THIS ONE—

(I HAD TO REWATCH THIS SCENE TO MAKE THE GIF AND IT HURT ME ON A MOLECOLAR LEVEL)

I have… a thing for characters who discover their entire identity was something else all along. It consumes my thoughts, my dreams, my every waking moment. I live for identity crises, for characters who thought they knew who they were, only to be forced to rediscover themselves, their existence, and their place in the world. If you give me a story where a character has to go through that, I will like it—regardless of how bad the rest of the story is.

Pair that with loads of trauma, daddy issues, the pressure of a legacy, and world-ending stakes, and congrats! Now I’m obsessed, and I will not stop thinking about it for the rest of my days!

At first, my brain just wanted to release some of that energy with a small, four-panel post about the monkeys discovering that MK was technically their kid.

That was supposed to be it.

But since I never seem to learn my lesson, it didn’t stay like that. Because once I started drawing, I just... continued.

And

I

never

stopped.

A lot of you have also asked how I found the motivation to draw so much, to never take a break. Well, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it one last time: I am my number one fan. No matter how much you laughed, cried, screamed, or went feral over this story, I did all of that and more. Because I got to think about the chapters months before they released. I got to daydream about them. I got to watch them come to life—first through sketches, then line art, then dialogue. And finally, I got to witness your reactions and see the incredible creations you made, inspired by my story.

So yeah, in a way, it was almost an addiction. A good addiction. Because, for the first time in my life, I actually understood what loving art means.

I’ve been drawing for ten years, working professionally for five, but I never loved art before. I just liked it because I happened to be good at it. But creating this comic made me understand why artists say, "Oh, I’ve loved drawing since I was a child!" This was the first time I allowed myself to create purely for my own enjoyment. Something I hadn’t had the privilege to do for a long time.

Other than making me feel even more single than I already was, this story somehow also helped me a little with my own family relationships. So yeah. Crazy how the gay monkeys changed my life.

Of course, I never could have predicted how much traction my AU would gain. Man, y’all were really starving to latch onto something this silly. /j

But yeah—thank you. Thank you for sticking around until the end, for having the patience and trust to follow the story even when I made you rage with angst and cliffhangers. (The statement in my bio still stands: I am not responsible for any physical or emotional damage my art has caused.)

I’m absolutely shit at thanking people, or at writing, or at talking in general, honestly. I’m the furthest thing from being good with words, so I hope the final chapter will be enough to show you my gratitude.

Through this story, I met so many wonderful, talented people. I watched as fans across different platforms found each other through memes and fanart of the AU. I saw artists start their own AUs inspired by mine, growing their own communities. I witnessed an explosion of creativity and collaboration through our takeovers. And I laughed along with you all.

And yeah—at its core, this story has always been about love. Whether it’s platonic, sibling, parental, romantic, or whatever the hell Mac and Wukong had going on for millennia.

At its heart, it’s a story about family.

And maybe, in the end… the real family wasn’t just the one in the comic, but the one we’ve found together along the way. 💛

See you all at the finale.

Love you all, freaks /affectionate

Jade

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅…

. . . where Matt and Chris decide to test how close Doll and Bunny really are and show them who they belong to. Find Bunny's POV here.

warnings: SMUT, possessive behavior, exhibitionism, gay tbh, fingering, pussy squelching. pairings: Doll x Matt | Bunny x Chris notes: combined au with @muwapsturniolo - find her part here.

“-feels good, hm?” Matt purrs. 

His fingers were torturously teasing you, sliding over your pussy through the thin fabric of your pj shorts over and over again. It’s a surprise to you, but for him – this was planned. 

The blanket covers the lewd scene from Chris and Bunny sitting on the couch opposite of you. Heat pulses through your body, your chest clenching and stomach tensing as you feel Matt’s cold fingers slide under the bridge of your panties.

“You like this, don’t you?” he husks, astonished by how much your pussy is sobbing. 

His fingers slip upwards, drawing tight, focused circles around your clit as he spreads you open to really feel. Your breath hitches, your hands coming down under the blanket to grab on tightly to his wrists. 

“Matt,” you whimper, your head falling backwards and onto his chest. 

Your boyfriend looks down at you with a soft mischief. His eyes are sparkling with excitement and lust, his fingers beginning to slow. 

“No…no, please.” 

The whispered plea only makes his smile spread further. “Yeah? You want me to touch you like this? In front of them…” he says, nudging his head over in the direction of Chris and Bunny. 

You nod fervently, your mind absent of anything but desire – anything but need. 

“Ask Bun if she’s okay.”

Your eyes bulge as you feel him start to circle your swollen clit with his fingertips. 

“Do it or I’ll stop.”

Fuck.

You hold on hard to his wrists, your gut continuously tightening as you breathe in a large puff of air.

“-you,” a moan is muffled as you bite down hard on your lip, the feeling of Matt’s fingers starting to tease your entrance mind-numbing. 

This is torture. 

But for Matt and Chris, it’s so fun. 

Your voice is beyond shaky. Stutters and a weak tone make your face feel impossibly hot, but Matt’s fingers…they’re so distracting. Matt nibbles on your ear, warning you silently, urging you to speak.

And you do.

"-you ok b-bun?"

Matt almost laughs at how weak you sound. But, he focuses his energy elsewhere. 

Bunny replies and you can’t help but notice the way her voice is shaking, the way the blanket covering her seems to be moving so peculiarly. 

“M-matt,” you moan, feeling his free hand start to tease your hardened nipples through the thin tank top on your body. 

Your mouth drops wide open. Matt’s palm massages against your sensitive pussy, your clit being abused perfectly as he fucks his fingers inside of you, curling them right against the spot that make your thighs clench together.

But he keeps you spread.

In fact, it’s almost purposeful how obvious he makes his hand moving beneath the blanket. Like it’s payback. 

Your eyes trace over Bunny’s face, seeing her features so delightfully twisted. 

She looks so pretty. 

Chris is whispering against her ear. 

Your brain is too fuzzy to connect the dots, too helpless to focus on anything but how good it feels. 

“Fuckkkkk,” Matt purrs, kissing along the rim of your ear, “-squeezin’ my fingers so – shit,” he seethes, the pain burning in his wrist as he feels your nails dig in. 

It’s nothing but encouragement to him, forcing him to give you everything as he keeps his palm grinding on your clit, his fingers fucking you relentlessly. 

You’re so close. 

The knot in your stomach is overbearingly daunting, building up more and more as you feel your legs start to quiver. 

“-let go,” Matt urges, “-cum all over me lookin’ at Bun, yeah? Thaaat’s right,” he soothes, his fingers rolling to a stop as your body finally relaxes.Matt is nothing but thrilled, his teeth showing as he smiles at Chris sickly. They’re both proud – they’re both so excited to scheme more.

[uraveragelonelysapphic]

Lavender

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Nature had always been your life. How fitting that it could now cause your death.

Warnings: angst (with a happy ending!), mentions of vomiting and blood.

a/n: Hello hello! This is perhaps definitely ass, but I really wanted to write for these two because I'm hopelessly in love with them both. Please enjoy!

Hanahaki Disease 花吐き病 (Japanese) is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings, or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear.

The natural world had always brought you peace. The softness of the grass under your feet, the gentle breeze blowing against your skin, the tender feeling of a flower blooming by your hand. You were a green witch, after all.

That was what had driven your family away. You had been 12 when you first sprouted a lily from your hand. You were more curious than scared; you had always sensed there was something that separated you from the rest of your family. Something about the earth’s treasures had always called to you. 

But even at your young age, you knew who you were living with. Sharing your abilities was a recipe for disaster; a sure fire way to have you outcast from your family.

So you did your best to keep your powers a secret, honing them in private, away from the watchful eye of your parents.

When you were 20, the inevitable happened. You were meant to be collecting berries for dinner when you had spotted a Willow Tree. It was worse for wear; you could feel it pleading for help as you approached it with a soft smile.

“It’s alright,” you soothed the tree as you gently placed your palms against the soil where its roots rested, “You’ll be alright.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on strengthening the roots as green magic pulsed out from your hands, through the soil, and into the tree itself, which began to heal instantly.

The snapping of a twig broke you out from your trance, turning your head to see your mother fleeing the scene. Your heart dropped as you quickly stood, moving to follow her.

She was too fast. By the time you had returned to your cabin, everyone and everything was gone. Your entire family had left you.

You fell to your knees in the middle of what was once your home, tears rolling down your face as you stared at the ground. Numb, broken, grieving.

You don’t know how long you stayed in that spot. You didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep, you just sat, staring, longing.

It wasn’t until a cold hand lifted your chin that you realized you weren’t alone anymore.

“Hello, darling,” a voice said softly, and you locked eyes with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Her brown eyes were intoxicating, drawing you in. You tilted your head at her in confusion and intrigue. Who was she? What was she doing here?

“You’ve been sat here for a week, darling. No food, no water, no sleep. You’ll kill yourself if you keep up like this,” she said as she looked at you curiously.

Your eyes widened in realization. Death. 

She shook her head at you gently, sensing your fear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not taking you. It’s not your time,” she said, stroking your hair gently. 

“Thank you, Lady Death,” you stuttered out, in awe of her soft nature, directly contrasting the connotation of her very existence.

She smiled at you in response. “You can call me Rio, sweet girl.” 

There was a moment where you two merely looked at one another before she looked away, taking on a rather stern expression. “But I feel the need to tell you, sitting here and mourning your abandonment will only hurt you. It’s not your time. So don’t let it be. Get up, you’re coming with me.”

You stumble away from her in confusion. “I thought you weren’t taking me?”

She shook her head. “I’m not taking you to the afterlife. I am, however, taking you in. You’ll be staying with Agatha and I.”

You knew that name. You had read about it during your private studies.

“Agatha? Like…’The Witch Killer’ Agatha? That Agatha?” you asked cautiously.

Rio cackled, extending her hand to you.

You took it.

And so began the years you spent with Death and her lover, Agatha Harkness. The two women were vastly different to their reputations that had preceded them. Sure, they both had a fierceness to them. They had to, in order to survive their daily lives filled with corpses and taking souls.

But, with each other, they held such a softness. Rio often came back from a long day exhausted and drained. Death didn’t tend to be a fan favorite, and people made it evident, shouting at her and berating her as she escorted the souls of their loved ones to the afterlife. But Agatha greeted her at the door each evening with a hug, simply holding her for minutes on end, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as Rio visibly relaxed into her hold.

And Rio returned the favor, treating Agatha with a love full of tenderness and warmth. Comforting her after each nightmare, preventing her from overworking herself, giving her soft apology kisses after any arguments.

Before long, you knew almost everything about the pair. You learned about Agatha and her son, and his loss which nearly tore Agatha and Rio apart. How Agatha was only a ‘Witch Killer’ to keep Nicky alive as long as she could. How Rio held such anguish and guilt at having to take Nicky’s soul. How Agatha once held it against her but now loved her as fiercely as ever.

The two were made for each other, and though they welcomed you with a similar softness to that which they showed each other, you chalked it up to them taking pity on a girl who was abandoned by her family. You knew they could never love you like they loved each other.

But that didn’t stop you from falling for them. It happened subconsciously; you never meant for it to happen. But when your heart panged in longing at seeing Agatha and Rio curled up in each other’s arms in the living room, you knew it had happened. It panged even further as you looked down, noticing a red carnation that had bloomed in your palm against your will.

You were determined to ignore it. Surely you could enjoy their presence without focusing on the way your stomach flipped when Rio smiled at you, or how your heart seemed to triple in size whenever Agatha would stroke your hair in affectionate greeting. But what you had to do became evident one morning.

“We’re headed out for a bit, doll,” Agatha said as you sat at the table eating the breakfast she had made for you.

You nodded. “Okay! Don’t stay out too late, I’m making your favorite for dinner, Ags.”

She beamed at you, making butterflies flare up in your stomach so violently they made you uneasy. “You’re a gem. Isn’t she just?” She turned to Rio, squeezing her hand gently.

“Oh, yeah, she’s the sweetest,” Rio replied, winking at you as you feel your heart beat faster.

The two bid you a final farewell before leaving for the day. As soon as they left, you began to feel an uncomfortable itch in your throat. You furrowed your brows, attempting to clear your throat to ease the discomfort, but to no avail. Eventually you began coughing. It was a cough that made you feel sick, made you feel like something was really wrong.

And when you coughed into your palm and saw the petals of daffodils, your suspicions were confirmed.

You had heard of Hanahaki disease but had always believed it to be a myth. Your heart dropped at the realization that your love for these women was going to kill you.

You had to leave.

So you did. You packed up that day and left, traveling solo for centuries as you studied the disease you suffered from. 

Luckily, it impacted witches differently than humans. As your lifespan tended to be a lot longer, the disease was longer lasting; escalating at a slower pace before killing you altogether.

For the first hundred years, it had mostly been a consistent burning in your throat and coughing up various flower petals. Miserable, but bearable nonetheless.

After those hundred years, it began to escalate at a quicker pace as the flowers bloomed quicker and sharper. After 200 years of this disease, you were weaker than ever before. Coughing constantly, a never ending sensation of your insides burning, vomiting flower petals and blood.

Yes, there was the option of surgery, but you couldn’t bring yourself to allow that option to become a reality. You didn’t want to forget the love you held for Rio and Agatha. They had shown you kindness and softness like none other. You would die before you let yourself remove the memory of them from your very soul.

And you were getting close. You knew your time was running out.

And so, after another long day of slowly dying, you stared up at the sky, longing for your loves, even though you knew it could never be.

It was then that you felt yourself being sucked into the ground beneath you, and you let out a yelp at the shock.

Before you knew it, you were clawing your way out of the ground, now in a completely unfamiliar place. You were on a path in a strange, dystopian-looking forest. You could feel the magic buzzing around you as you pulled yourself up from the ground.

“Who is that?”

“I thought we already got a green witch?”

You heard a gasp and looked up to meet a pair of blue eyes you had longed for night after night for the past 200 years.

“Agatha,” you said quietly, tears welling in your eyes before you could stop them.

A familiar voice said your name and you shuddered at the sound.

“Rio.”

The two women stared at you and you stared back, unsure of what to say.

“So, are you gonna introduce us to the new girl, or…” a witch in a pink dress asked and you broke your intense stare-down to introduce yourself by name to the coven of witches. 

“I’m a green witch,” you explained.

“We’ve already got one,” a teenage boy said, pointing at Rio awkwardly.

You knew well and good that Rio wasn’t here as a green witch, she was here on work business, but you didn’t want to blow what seemed to be a cover, and you also didn’t have a damn clue where you were, so you played along.

“Well, you know summoning spells, you never know how many you’re gonna get…” you tried cautiously, still feeling the gaze of your former housemates burning into the side of your head.

“Y/N, a word?” Agatha finally asked, and you gulp before nodding and following her and Rio to a secluded part of the forest.

“Hey guys…what’s up?” you asked with an awkward smile, trying to ease the tension.

Rio narrowed her eyes at you, crossing her arms. “What’s up is that you up and left 200 years ago without so much as a word to either of us. Care to explain?”

You tried to look to Agatha for support, but she wouldn’t meet your eyes. Your stomach turned at the thought that you had upset these women you loved so deeply.

You took a deep breath, staring at the ground. “I had some business to attend to. I didn’t want either of you to get wrapped up in it.”

“Was your business ‘killing yourself?’ You look rough,” Rio said, a teasing smirk hiding her worry.

“Thanks,” you rolled your eyes, some tension releasing from your shoulders at the knowledge that Rio wasn’t angry enough to ignore you.

“You left without so much as saying goodbye,” Agatha said quietly. She sounded so hurt, and you couldn’t believe you had brought this on the pair, but you knew they deserved to love each other in peace, not be burdened at being the cause of your death.

“Ags, I’m really sorry, I should’ve said goodbye, I just-“ you were cut off as a violent coughing fit shook you, causing both women to raise their eyebrows at you.

You turned away from them as you coughed a plumeria flower out of your throat. You quickly slipped the flower into your pocket and wiped a bit of blood from the corner of your mouth before turning to face the two witches again.

The eyes on you were soft and concerned, but you shook your head at them, shutting down their questions before they even asked. “I’m fine, just a cough.”

Rio opened her mouth to protest when a witch sporting orange streaks in her hair interrupted.

“I’m sorry to get in the middle of whatever this reunion is, but I think it’s time for our next trial.”

You furrowed your brows. “Trial?” You began to realize that you had no idea where you actually were.

“Duh, we are on the Witches Road, after all!” The teenage boy exclaimed, leaving you even more confused.

The road isn’t real. You knew all about the song that Agatha had used to lure her victims in. 

“Wait, but-“ you stopped yourself from questioning any further when you saw Rio subtly shake her head at you, a silent plea to not reveal the truth of the road to the group.

You nodded in understanding, deciding to save your questions for later. “Alright, where’s the next trial?”

You looked up to see the group staring at something behind you. Agatha and Rio were particularly fascinated by it.

You turned around and your stomach dropped. You saw a cottage. It’s covered in vines and moss, making it appear worn down. But you thought it was beautiful. Perhaps that’s because it was yours. And Agatha’s. and Rio’s.

You looked at the path leading to the cottage. It was covered in flowers. You took a deep breath.

You just got here and already you were being given a trial.

As you and the rest of the coven approached the cottage, you couldn’t help but turn to the women you desire the most for comfort. 

Rio had an arm wrapped around Agatha’s waist, her thumb gently stroking the witch’s hip bone. Agatha looked up at her, smiling in gratitude, and Rio pressed a soft kiss to Agatha’s forehead.

Your stomach churned at the sight, and you felt bile rising in your throat. You painfully swallowed it back down, cringing at the effect it had on your throat, already raw from the thorns slowly tearing it to shreds.

“You good?” The witch in the pink dress asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s just get this over with.”

The inside of the cottage looked just like you thought it would.

Home.

The same furniture, same pillows and blankets, same decor on the walls.

Your eyes filled with tears as you remembered all the time you had spent here with the women you loved more than anything.

“Doll,” a gentle voice said, and you turned to see Agatha looking at you softly. She approached you slowly, holding a hand out for you, but you took a step back.

“I’m fine,” you said, brushing your face and continuing to move through the house.

“This is new,” you heard Rio’s voice from the room resembling your bedroom. 

You entered and were greeted with a tapestry on your wall. It showed 5 flowers. Below the woven flowers was a message:

The words she never spoke will slowly begin to choke. For if they never cared, a life cannot be spared.

“It’s my life,” you breathed out, staring in horror at the plants on the tapestry.

Rio nodded, running her fingers along the tapestry as she identified the plants.

“Lily. Rebirth,” she began.

“The birth of your powers, the birth of you as a witch,” Agatha identified.

“Willow Tree. Loss.”

“The loss of your kin. Being abandoned by those you called family,” Agatha continued.

“Red Carnations. Deep, affectionate love.”

Agatha went silent at this, her brows furrowing.

“Daffodil. Unrequited love.”

Rio and Agatha were visibly shaken by this point. What hadn’t you told them? You were in love? With who?

Rio snapped her head to look at you upon seeing the last flower.

“Plumeria,” she said grimly.

Agatha’s eyes were wide. “What does that mean?” 

Rio only continued to look at you.

“Rio, what does that mean???”

Her question was answered as you began to cough violently again, the sheer force of it bringing you to your knees.

Agatha rushed over to you in a panic. She looked at the rest of the coven in terror. “What’s happening to her?” she cried as you began to choke.

“The words she never spoke will slowly begin to choke,” the teenager said.

“Hanahaki disease,” the witch in pink breathed out.

“What the hell is that?” Agatha was crying now, watching as petals and thorns made their way out of your mouth covered in blood.

“A disease that affects someone facing unrequited love,” Rio said in realization.

As she put the pieces together she knelt in front of you in an instant, anger coursing through her.

“You left because of this,” she said, her voice low, “You thought we didn’t love you, so you left?” she asked incredulously.

“Didn’t want—you to—-see me die,” you gasped out, fighting for air as you began to cough up more and more blood.

“You’re not dying, Y/N. I won’t take you,” Rio choked out, her sorrow getting the best of her. 

“Better this way,” you managed, and Agatha choked out a sob.

“It’s not, doll, we love you, we love you,” she cried helplessly.

The whole coven stood in shock. The two women they feared the most were in the most pain they had seen since they began to walk the road.

Both women hold you tight, desperately trying to convince you of their love.

Rio grabbed your face to look at her. “There’s a reason I took you in that day, mi vida,” she whispered as tears fell down her face, “I felt pulled to you. I knew you would be special to me. Aggie and I love you so much, please believe me.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips to yours, ignoring the blood and petals and thorns and focusing on you. Just you.

When she pulled away you gasped, finally able to gather air into your lungs.

Relief was visible throughout the entire coven. They had only just met you, but seeing how your existence being threatened had brought absolute devastation to two of the most intimidating women on earth had shaken them.

As you began to breathe again, you sagged against Agatha.

“You’re okay, doll, you’re okay now,” she assured you as she gently ran a hand through your hair.

The door to the cottage slammed open, and the rest of the coven took it as their cue to leave, giving you three a moment to recover.

As you laid against Agatha, you looked at Rio with tired eyes. “Sorry for getting blood on you,” you rasped, causing the woman to roll her eyes at you.

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” She scolded before taking both of your hands in hers. “I. Love. You.”

Tears filled your eyes at her earnest confession. “I’m so sorry I ran,” you began, your body shaking, “I saw the love you had for each other, and how much you had healed each other, and I couldn’t hurt that. I didn’t want you to see me die. It wouldn’t have been your fault,” you said brokenly.

Agatha shushed you, kissing the top of your head. “You shouldn’t have run. It would’ve saved us all 200 years of agony,” she said, and you hang your head in guilt.

But then you felt a cold hand lifting your chin. And suddenly you were 20 years old again, looking into the eyes of Lady Death herself. 

But this time, instead of looking at you with curiosity, she looked at you with something much stronger. She looked at you with love.

“But we’ve got you back now,” she said, smiling tearfully at you, “so we’re taking you in. Is that okay?”

Your body wracked with sobs as you nodded, and both women were holding you in an instant. Your back was against Agatha’s front as her arms wrapped around your waist. Rio straddled you, her arms wrapping around your neck as she pulled you close.

And out of the cracked wooden floor of that cottage, something bloomed.

Lavender. Healing. Love.

[yoonia]

Red Vibe (M)

— A lover who enjoys driving you crazy with his wicked plans, a feral need of pleasure that is uneasy to be tamed, and a lavish wedding that your man always finds himself getting bored in. When Yoongi says it’s playtime, you have no choice but to have him play with you the way he pleases.

— subtitle: Chance of Pleasure | pairings: min yoongi x f. reader | genre: pwp, established relationship!au, DBSM, Smut | word count: 11,510 words

— ratings & warnings: +18/Mature; explicit sex scene, dom!Yoongi, sub!reader, d/s dynamic, sexual tension, dirty talk (lots and lots of them), sex toys, anal plug, pet names, praise kink, double penetration, light bondage, panty stuffing, choking, humiliation, hand job, oral sex (male receiving), deepthroating, fingering, clit play, clothed sex, groping, grinding, breast play, public exposure, public sex, rough sex, exhibitionism/exhibition kink, teasing, begging, edging, orgasm denial, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, aftercare (minor), creampie.

— fic drop date: March 29th, 2025 

— story masterlist: Red series | read on AO3 | main masterlist | wip | mailbox | feedback box | ko-fi | divider credit

— story note: while this fic is a part of a series, this story specifically can be read as a standalone. This was supposed to be posted on Yoongi’s birthday, but so many things happened and here we are. Roughly edited, but I hope you can still enjoy reading this one.

Yoongi enjoys placing you on the line of peril and exhilaration. To do as he pleases as he puts you on the edge of undeniable lust, no matter the time and place. 

Just like what he is doing to you now. 

You can sense the movements coming from all around you, yet you are unable to take heed of their presence. The clicking sounds of cutleries and plates and the chattering sounds of the people in the room all become white noise. 

The only sounds that you can hear right now are the humming sound coming from below, as the constant vibration which has been going on for a while from between your legs continues—sometimes increasing its speed before slowing down again right when your body is beginning to tremble, unable to withstand the pressure and the sensations that it keeps bringing up on you. 

Then comes the sound of your heartbeat, which is rapidly rising the more tense you feel at the thought of someone else in the room noticing what is happening underneath your dress. Followed by the sound of your breath, which keeps getting strained each time you are holding back from erupting while under the public’s eyes or quickens when the pleasure heightens. 

Everything seems to mesh together as the coil in your stomach is threatening to unleash itself and push you right over the edge. 

Looking across the dinner table, your gaze meets Yoongi’s dark ones. His wicked intention is written all over his face, shown also on his smile, while you see pure lust in his eyes that are also glowing with mirth and a sense of knowing as he knows what you are enduring. 

Using one hand to raise his glass of wine, Yoongi keeps the other hidden under the napkin which is spread right next to his dinner plate. Beneath, he holds a dark secret from any perusing eyes that might be curious about the two of you. 

The same dark secret which is now causing the vibration between your legs to grow more intense, its speed increasing the moment he notices how hard you are clenching at your cutleries while you find yourself unable to savour your fancy dinner. 

“Do you not take the meal to your liking, princess? I’m not seeing you taking any bite of that pasta dish you craved so much,” Yoongi teases you with a low voice, feigning his innocence as he lifts his glass to his lips, covering the wicked grin he is giving you. 

You lick your lips as you try to control your breath, trying your best not to let out any sound that may draw attention your way. Deep down, you are swamped with a mix of emotions: an urge to cry out, the desire to stab your fork onto the back of his hand in desperation, and the need to beg that he would give you permission to let go so you can end all of this.  

But Yoongi always follows his own rules. 

You are always given a chance to end playtime when you are feeling uncomfortable. But with the way you are being challenged now, with you already hanging on the precipice of your release, ending things will only mean you are denied the wonderful bliss that you were promised to when he first commanded you to wear this vicious thing so deep inside your pussy. 

This was obviously not what you had in mind when you first asked him to be your plus one to tonight’s event. 

While it wouldn’t be uncommon for Yoongi to have a crazy idea of starting a playtime whenever he would like, and you have grown used to him picking any random time and place for it—even if it means having fun with you in a public place until you fall apart in his hands—surely, you didn’t think he would do this during your close friend’s wedding reception. 

You had expected that Yoongi might find it uncomfortable to be in this kind of setting. That’s why at first, you had expected that he would refuse when you asked him to come with you tonight. You should have probably expected that he had something up in his sleeves when he easily agreed, and had even promised to help you prepare for this night. 

The first giveaway should have been the packages waiting for you on the bed when you got home from the hairdresser. 

The first package contained the red wine strap dress that you are wearing tonight—with the kind of red that looks so sultry even from the first glance. It’s a lengthy dress which ends at your calves, elegant enough for a formal event, but with a split that reaches up your hips, allowing you to move fluidly around the outdoor wedding venue. 

The straps hanging on your shoulders are thin. Judging from the way Yoongi kept playing on them each time you were sitting close to him, he had chosen the dress while having a dark intention which involves him pulling and snapping them off of you. While the rest of the dress covers your skin just enough, the front cleavage drops just enough to draw Yoongi’s attention all night long, despite knowing that you have been carrying a few other—and way more sinful—secrets hidden underneath the dress. 

The second package he left you contained a specific tool that now has you squirming in your seat. No, not the one that is now coming alive with the press of a finger while Yoongi is watching you closely. But the one that is making you feel so full and your senses heightened from behind. Staying true to his pattern, the anal plug he gifted to you came in the colour red, matching the colour of the dress that he bought you. 

If that had not been enough to let you know that he had every intention of having you wear the pair for tonight’s invitation, then the note that he left behind along with the packages would,

“Be a good girl and wear this pretty dress for me tonight. But right before you put on the dress, I want to see you waiting for me on your knees when I get home, and make sure that I can see you with this plug as the only accessory adorning your skin. I’m sure they would be a wonderful pair to make you shine tonight.” 

You remember the way your heartbeat was racing so rapidly as you did what he asked of you, when you waited for his return with the dress laid down on the foot of the bed, with you on your knees, with not a single piece of clothing on your skin and the red plug buried deep inside your rear entrance.

Yoongi took his sweet time returning home, knowing that the more you wait, the more your body would grow sensitive and ready for him to do as he wishes. It wasn’t until much later when Yoongi finally arrived home—not until once your body and muscles were strained in wait and your anticipation had built up so intensely. 

By the time he entered the room, the discomfort you felt from the presence of the anal plug inside you was starting to grow numb. It took only one look into his eyes to know that your torment was far from over. As he reached out to brush your hair back from your face, you noticed that he was carrying something else in his other hand—yet another mysterious package which was a bit smaller than the ones he left you with. 

Curiosity washed over you the moment you saw it. A flutter rose in your chest, yet without his permission to speak, there was no way you could question him about it, nor was there a chance for you to prepare yourself for what was coming. Playtime had already started ever since the moment you put on the anal plug, so there was nothing you could do but wait. 

“Look at you. Such a beautiful sub, all ready for me,” he praised you then while playing with the strands of hair which fell as a frame on the side of your face. “Were you waiting for me so I can dress you?” 

“Yes, I did,” you answered with a sigh while instinctively tilting your head up to embrace his touch. 

“Good girl,” he praised you once again. As always, his praises worked like a charm, making you feel good for following his instructions. It quickly brought out a wave of flutters which then travelled its way down, heading straight towards where the hot coil is forming in your belly before going further down south. 

“But there’s still something missing,” he added as his sly grin widened. “I still have another thing for you that would make everything complete.” 

You looked up at him then, ready to question what he meant when he stepped back and gave you another command, “Come to me and bend over at the foot of the bed for me.” 

Hearing this, your eyes went to the box he was carrying while trying to guess what he was up to. Taking his hand, you allowed him to help you step down from the bed and turn you around to have your back facing him. Resting your hands and elbows on the bed, you bent down, taking the exact position he wanted to see you in. With your hips raised and your bare bottom pointed up towards him, your muscles tightened and pulsed around the plug, and your legs trembled when it almost seemed to extend inside you. 

As if the sensation was not enough, Yoongi reached down and touched the end of the plug. He began pressing it down lightly until he drew the sound of your moans, to which he hummed in approval at how pleasant you were responding to him. 

“So beautiful. So perfect. I knew this would be perfect for you,” you heard him say beyond the sounds you were making. Even the sound of your pulsing blood was slowly drowning his voice as the heat in your body began to increase when he started moving the plug in and out, stretching your muscles when he deliberately slowed each time the thickest part of the plug came past your tight rim.  

But his praises came to you like an enchanting spell. 

It gave you pleasure to be able to please him, and in return, it drew the same sensation rushing through your body that you felt the heat of your arousal slipping between your legs, building and flooding with each pulse you felt coming to wake inside your core. He pressed the plug down harder until it was settled nicely in place once again, leaving nothing else but the faint spasms that still remained after his wicked ministrations and the pulses between your folds. A few seconds passed before he slid his fingers lower, finding you already getting slick with your arousal. 

“So wet,” he hummed, while you gasped when his fingers rubbed gently between your folds, spreading your slickness and stretching you as he slid his fingers into your pussy. 

Yoongi slowed down for a bit, feeling the way your muscles pulsed around the digits. And then he bent down, kissing the back of your neck, distracting you from the faint clicking sound as he flipped the box open and took its content out with his other hand. 

“And sadly so empty,” he said, the words almost slipping away from you when he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and bare from his touch. 

His touch left you only for a brief moment, until you felt something pushing between your folds—something that felt shape solid and firm, but soft and slick on the surface. Before you had any chance to figure out what it was, Yoongi gave it a light push, and it slid past your slick entrance easily, replacing his missing fingers inside your heat. 

Your body jolted and tensed as it inched deeper, a reaction which Yoongi immediately noticed. His free hand came down to your hips, caressing you gently to soothe you before he continued to push this atrocious thing he was trying to fit inside your throbbing pussy. 

“Relax, baby. Don’t fight it. Let me in,” he continued coaxing you, slipping small praises in between when you slowly began to relax. 

Your body trembled slightly as Yoongi continued by gently easing the object inside you, yet you simply took it with a low hum, softly moaning as your muscles began contracting around it. Without giving any restrictions this time. 

“That’s it. Good girl. You’re doing a good job, I’m so proud of you.” 

His praises almost got you to start tearing up. Warmth came fluttering inside your chest while you tried your best to follow his words until you felt the thing buried completely inside you. Your muscles tightened around it, pulsing against the girth as it settled within you, then Yoongi drew his hands back. Another click is heard beyond the sounds of your breathing, and suddenly, the mysterious invader inside you started humming, and it came alive with a steady vibration that had you crying out and almost stumbling down onto the bed. 

Just when you felt like you were taken onto the next height, Yoongi put everything to a stop and helped you return to your position. He bent down, his chest pressing against your back as he gave a gentle kiss at your temple, rewarding you for staying strong and for not falling over. Then you felt him straightening himself back up. You could almost feel the heat of his gaze as he silently took the sight of you in, as if taking his time marvelling at his own work. 

“I always love seeing you in red,” he whispered to you as he looked down, his gaze was fully on the red butt plug you were wearing, then on the red vibrator peeking out of your wet folds. 

Your body twitched when he gently brushed your skin, rubbing gently on you starting from your hips and down to your bare bottom to soothe you to relax, even if he stayed clear from touching the toys he planted inside you. 

“Wear them nicely for me tonight, and I’ll reward you immensely.” 

A jolt comes through your body when Yoongi switches the speed of the vibration once again, bringing you back to the present. 

A curious look appears on his face as he tilts his head, as if he is wondering just how you seem to be able to let your mind wander elsewhere, even while you are being stimulated by his actions. But not anymore, when the speed changes every few seconds, making you feel like you are being punished indirectly with continuous attacks. It is starting to take a lot from you just to stay still and keep your hips from rocking to ride the sensation you are being given. 

“What is it, sweetheart? Is everything alright?” Yoongi’s voice breaks through your daze, drawing your attention back to him. 

Back to the dinner party, the wedding venue and the happy new couple that are now celebrating with a dance on the open dance floor just right outside of the dining tent, and the vibrating toy that keeps rubbing against your pulsing walls and making you feel so full. With how long it has been lodged deep inside you and how constant the vibration has been going, the device has not only been pushing itself against your sweet spot, but it has also been pushing against the plug that is filling you from behind. 

It almost feels as if you have two cocks penetrating you from front to back. The way the vibrator is shaking in rapid movements and speed—sometimes changing unpredictably—makes it seem like the plug is also moving in tune, that you keep coming close to losing your composure. 

“Everything is just—” 

A gasp cuts you off when Yoongi switches the control without a word or a warning, causing the device to rock inside you with an intense speed, spreading tremors through your body and stimulating your clitoris from within. But you catch yourself before a moan can slip out of your lips. You take a brief moment to control your breath—and your voice—to continue, “Everything is fine.” 

“Is that so?” he asks, his gaze never wavering from you as he takes in every single reaction you are giving him. The gentle smile spreading on his face seems misleading—the perfect mask to cover the wicked scheme going through his head right now. 

You can only guess what people around you might be seeing should they glance over to your table—a caring man who keeps paying close attention to his lover, as he continues to keep his eyes on you and inquires about your comfort. 

None of these other guests would know the truth. That your sweet lover is just enjoying the show while you are hanging by a thread, struggling to hide the secret hidden in his hand, that he is slowly leading you towards your release without even the touch of his hands on your skin. 

“Perhaps you need something—more, to please your palate?” 

For a brief moment, you wonder what he is trying to ask you. You know for sure that he isn’t referring to the meal that you are having, as you’ve barely even touched your plate except for the first few bites you had when the toy hadn’t been activated. There is no need to confirm your thoughts so openly, however, when Yoongi does it himself as he switches the toy once again. 

Instead of giving you a steady vibration, the toy moves in rapid pulses, making it seem as if it is moving back and forth, pressing left to right. The sensation is starting to feel overwhelming, and you can only clench your hands tightly to hold still while your thighs are quivering under your dress. When you squirm back on your seat, your hips begin rocking against the pressure you feel from the plug that seems to be moving in unison with the toy as your muscles are clenching around the girth. 

The pulses coming from the front of your body to the back, the way the toy seems to be working its way deeper, thrusting against your sweet spot when your hips involuntarily move to meet each pulse you are receiving, everything becomes too much that you can no longer stop it when the waves of pleasure continue rising, increasing so rapidly that you can feel your orgasm coming so soon. 

The fact that you are about to erupt in a pleasurable bliss right in front of these unsuspecting guests almost goes right over your head. It seems to be making the entire experience feel more intense than ever before. 

A small moan escapes you when you feel the first spasm of your climax erupting within you. But before you can embrace it, Yoongi immediately lowers the speed, denying your release. Within seconds, everything comes to a halt, and your muscles are pressing against two solid trinkets embedded within you with nothing more but the ghost of the toy’s violating ministrations as Yoongi sets it to stop. 

“Are you done with your meal? You look a bit warm. Why don’t we go out to take a walk in the garden so you can get a breath of fresh air before we join the other guests in a dance?” Yoongi says, feigning calmness. His offer seems innocent, yet you can see in his eyes that he may have other plans than helping you cool off right after he placed you near the edge of your climax.

Without waiting for your response, Yoongi slips out of his seat. Tugging the front lapels of his suit jacket, he walks over to your side and takes your hand in his as he helps you rise to your feet. With his palm pressing the small of your back, he helps you steady yourself on your feet. Once you manage to keep your balance without swaying, he presses his lips on your temple and begins leading both of you to the open garden, away from prying eyes. 

The cold breeze that welcomes you outside of the dining tent feels heavenly. 

The soft tune of music that you weren’t able to pay much attention to earlier comes clearer now that the haze in your mind is slowly fading. With the pace that Yoongi is going, he allows you a longer break from his torment. Only that it makes you desperate at the same time, as your entire body is still feeling the ghosts of your denied release. 

As if it isn’t enough, Yoongi makes a few stops as he greets some other guests whom he is familiar with. He makes you join him to share a casual greeting to an old friend who is attending the party, then a small chat with a mutual friend of yours and his who is related to the bride. 

The third time he stops is when you come across a couple who you haven’t met for a while. As Yoongi begins chatting with them, he pulls you close by your waist, keeping you to his side. Moments pass by, as the conversation flows and you are beginning to forget why he took you out here in the first place, he slips his other hand into his pocket, and the vibrator springs to life again. 

Your muscles clench around it as if your body is desperately trying to prevent it from slipping out of your heat. Your legs tremble as it continues pressing against your walls, yet Yoongi acts like he isn’t aware of your struggles as he continues chatting with the couple in front of you. 

The device shifts, changing its pace and causing your muscles to clench harder around it, only to trigger an intense shudder running through your body which is enough to make your knees grow weak. 

In an instant, you rest your hand on his arm, clutching tightly for dear life while you keep yourself balanced against him. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” he gently asks you with his lips pressing against your hair.

You bite your lip, knowing that the moment you open your mouth, a moan will slip out of you instead of an answer. “Hmmm, well?” he asks again, and you inwardly curse at him for being so cheeky. 

“I’m…fine,” you finally answer him while forcing a smile on your face, 

“Ah, that’s right. I promised to walk you around before sharing a dance with you, didn’t I?” Yoongi asks, teasing you while once again feigning innocence. He turns to the other guests and bids his goodbye, “Excuse me for cutting our reunion short, but a promise is a promise. I hope we’ll be able to talk soon.” 

“It was a pleasure to meet you both. I hope we see each other again another time,” the other man says, though you can barely pay any mind to his words when your head is throbbing as violently as the rush of heat flowing through your body, all caused by the intruding device still vibrating inside you.  

Yoongi continues to guide you through the open venue once you part ways with the other couple. But instead of taking you to the spot where some guests are dancing outside of the dining tent, he guides you to the side, towards the open garden that is slightly away from where the main event is being held. 

Walking past a few sculptures adorning the garden and some properly trimmed rose bushes, the two of you arrive nearly at the edge of the garden. Tall green hedges lined up around you, serving almost like a green wall which creates a secluded space deep within the garden. There is a path leading between the hedges, off to the area illuminated only by recessed lighting coming from the ground, and this is where Yoongi takes you. 

It’s a fairly clear night, with a full moon only occasionally buffeted by clouds. The moonlight makes it possible for this area to not seem at all too dark compared to the part of the garden where the wedding tents are put up. Yoongi stops behind one of the green hedges and rubs his hand down your hips as he turns you to face him. 

“Has our short walk helped clear your head, sweetheart?” 

A whimper escapes you as you lean against Yoongi. At this point, your entire body is shaking. You can barely remember the walk you had to get to this point when you couldn’t focus on anything else but the vibration happening between your legs. It was a miracle that you were even able to put one foot in front of the other, even if you had to rely solely on Yoongi to keep you from falling. 

Now, once you no longer have to hide your reactions, you instantly fall into Yoongi’s arms. Your legs can no longer hold your weight with how much they are shaking beneath the dress. Your body is tense, drained by your continuous effort to hold yourself back while trying your best to keep the vibrator buried between your walls during the walk. 

“Yoongi, I can’t—” you gasp, moaning softly as the rhythm changes again, the device inside you moving rapidly with a new speed as Yoongi once again controls it with a flick of a finger.

“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me,” Yoongi whispers against your lips, teasing you with a kiss. “What do you need?”  

“I need…to cum. I can’t take it anymore. Please,” you beg him with a whisper, desperate for release. 

Chuckling softly, Yoongi takes a step back and looks down. “Hike up your skirt, baby. Let me have a good look at you,” he says, his command coming out softly through his lips. 

You know that he isn’t asking to look at you,but the part of you that he has been playing with all evening. 

With trembling fingers, you pull up the front of your dress, pulling it up just enough for Yoongi to have a look at your shaking thighs, your soiled panties, and the slickness that has been flooding down your center as the toy continues to vibrate under your thin panties. 

“What a beautiful sight to see,” he muses, and all so suddenly, the heat in your center rises intensely under the heat of his gaze. Having him looking straight at your covered pussy makes you feel hot, when you are already burning inside under the work of his little gifts inside you. 

“Now let’s see,” you hear him murmuring as he reaches out, his hand coming between your legs, pressing down the vibrator from over your panties. A jolt of pleasure shoots right through you, causing you to cry out. “Sshh, you need to keep it down, baby. You don’t want anyone to find out what we’re doing, do you?” 

Opening your eyes to see his wicked grin, you follow the flicker of his gaze to look over your shoulder and see the party still going on not too far away. Granted, he had taken you to a fair distance from the main venue, but you are still close enough to hear the sounds coming from the reception—the music, the chattering shared by the mingling guests, and the melody coming from the dancing couples filling the dance area. 

You can almost breathe in the scents coming from the party—the scented candles, the flowers, the appetising dinner which you failed to savour. 

“You see? Even if we’re hidden in the dark, we are still close enough for people to notice that something is amiss,” Yoongi whispers as he tips your chin to turn you back to him. “Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” you nod, doing your best to keep your voice steady, “Understood.” 

“Good girl,” Yoongi praises you with a kiss on your temple, which is both soothing and testing when it draws more reactions from your body. You bite your lips when you feel the brush of his fingers coming across your slit once again, holding back the moan that is threatening to escape.

“Do you want to cum?” he whispers to your ear. His deep voice alone nearly brings you to your knees. He makes it even harder for you to keep it together when he keeps touching your hot folds with the tips of his fingers through your thin panties, teasing you just enough to make you tremble.

“Yes, Sir. Please—” 

“How badly do you want it?” 

“I need it. I’m so close, Yoongi,” you whine and whimper and beg. You have been so close since earlier when you were sitting down to enjoy dinner. Slipping away from the party with Yoongi keeping you close has made you more aware of how close you have been to tipping over the edge. “I can’t hold back. Please.” 

Your hips rock against his hand as he presses down on the vibrator, nearly sending you to the verge of climax. You can feel it as it begins to rise, your walls clenching around the device, which only heightens the sensation now running through your body. You know that he can feel it too, both from the way your body is reacting to his touch—as you arch back against his palm resting on the small of your back—and the way your fingers are digging into his arm. 

He gently rubs against your clit with his thumb, drawing more and more gasping sounds coming out of your lips. And then he goes even further by spreading his palm across your center until you feel a nudge at the tail end of the plug buried in your rear entrance. He presses both toys at the same time, stimulating your muscles, which almost becomes your undoing. 

Yet, the moment you are ready to fall over the edge, Yoongi sneakily pulls his fingers away, taking all the delightful pressure away with his touch. 

“No, Yoongi—” you gasp, which earns a gentle kiss on your lips to keep you quiet—both from your words and your thoughts.  

“Uh-uh, not yet,” he murmurs against your lips. You can almost feel his smirk in the kiss, even if your head is spinning with how intense your need for release feels right at this moment. 

“But—” 

Smiling, Yoongi lifts his hand and brushes his thumb across your lips. “Show me how badly you need it, sweetheart,” he says to you as he moves his other hand to the back of your neck, gently guiding you to lower yourself to your knees. “Show me how much you deserve it.” 

It’s not hard to understand what he is insinuating as you slowly come to the ground. Quickly, you adjust the skirt of your dress and plant your knees on the dry paving below your feet, doing your best not to soil your dress as you follow Yoongi’s instruction. 

You look up, hands reaching up to his belt and making a quick work to free his cock from his pants. It doesn’t take long before you have the length of his still semi-hard cock in your palm. With a few gentle strokes, he soon grows firm and ready for you. 

With his palm on the back of your head, Yoongi guides you to lean closer to him. You keep your eyes on him as you plant a kiss on the tip of his cock, then your tongue comes out for a lick, tasting the pre-cum leaking out of his slit. Yoongi continues to watch you with his deep, dark gaze as you continue to kiss and lick his cock, never taking his eyes away. A sublte gasp comes out of his lips when you open your lips and take a few inches of his cock into your warm mouth. 

Yoongi lets out a groan and stills, allowing you to manage your pace. Flattening your tongue under the length of his cock, you start gently, taking him inch by sweet inch into your mouth. Your head bobs back and forth, his cock going in and out of your mouth, and you continue until you feel him getting deeper, and deeper, the tip soon hitting the back of your mouth as you keep taking more of him.

“You look so hot tonight, baby. When you were trying to stop yourself from cumming in the middle of the dining area. It was a delightful sight to watch you trembling with the vibe, it was turning me on to see it.” Yoongi continues to coax and praise you with a few sighs slipping out of his lips as he savours the sensation building up in his body. He looks at you fondly, watching you as you continue to slide your mouth along the length of his cock, going from the tip and almost down to the base, and repeat. 

“You’re taking my cock so well, baby,” he praises you with a deep grunt, “Like a good girl. Now, take me deeper. Let me fuck your throat.”

You take a deep breath through your nose and loosen your jaw so you can take more of him. Soon, you can feel his cock slipping through your throat, drawing a series of low grunts and moans coming out of his lips—a worthy reward to inspire you to keep going. Yoongi begins rocking his hips, thrusting and fucking your mouth in seek of pleasure. 

“Oh, fuck. That’s it. Take me deep and swallow me,” he continues coaxing you, his hand giving you a gentle push to guide you to take him deeper. Holding back your gag reflex, you take another deep breath through your nose and sink further down his length, taking as much as you can until you reach the base, drawing a deep, pleasured groan from him. 

Forming a circle with your thumb and forefinger, you wrap them around the base of his cock and continue bobbing your head down his length. Your mouth and jaw are beginning to feel sore, but the more you feel him tremble, the more you are eager to give him more. 

Taking him as deep as you possibly can, you ignore the tightness in your throat as you swallow him and move your hand down to reach his sacks. You take him gently in your palm, giving him a nice brush and knead while you let him sink his cock in your throat to the point you feel like coughing, and that almost does him in. 

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, his hand pressing gently at the back of your head to keep you in position while he rides the surge of pleasure almost sending him to his release. 

You are slowly losing your breath, yet the more he keeps you restrained, nearly choking on his rigid cock, the more your body heats up. As if pleasuring him this way and making him unravel will be enough to put you over the edge. It comes to you like a wave, causing your core to pulse around the vibrator that is still shaking gently inside you. 

Yoongi slowly releases you at the sound of your whimper, giving you a chance to breathe. Your body shivers when Yoongi switches the vibrator once more, causing it to move at a different speed, sending you rocking back to feel the anal plug hitting deeper, reminding you of its presence. 

“Touch yourself. Make sure not to let the toy fall out of you and don’t come until I allow you to,” Yoongi orders you gently, his voice straining with how much he is enjoying this. You can tell that he is also already on the edge, yet he still focuses on putting you in the same position, leaving you desperate when you can’t feel his touch. 

With your hand still playing with his balls, you wrap your mouth around his cock once again, going up and down his length while lightly sucking him each time you go back up the tip. With your other hand, you reach down, slipping your fingers between your legs to find your center. Your fingers are slightly trembing as you slide them down your covered slit, finding your clit which has been throbbing and swelling. 

You give yourself a nice, slow rub, pressing down lightly on your bud, following the rhythm of the vibrator still going on within. It feels exhilarating when the rush of pleasure washes over your body. The feeling intensifies further when a cold breeze flows across the garden, brushing against your exposed skin—a reminder that you are out in the open, with the chance of someone catching you acting so wantonly with your lover’s cock buried in your mouth. 

Your entire body shudders as you picture seeing yourself through a stranger’s eyes. Strangely enough, it’s not out of shame, but more of an excitement and thrill. It quickly sends you near the edge. You can feel it coming, causing you to moan around his cock when the telltale of your climax forms like a tight coil at your center. Every warning he gave you about coming to your release without his permission flies out of your head. 

You are so close. 

Just one little rub and you are there. You can feel it. 

With a deep moan, you give yourself another rub, pressing hard on your clit. It sends your hips rocking, riding the delightful rhythm going on inside you. From front to back, you feel every part of you pulsing and the toys inside you pressing all the right places. 

And then, just as you are about to reach your climax, Yoongi gently pries you away from his cock, snapping you out of your haze.  

“Were you trying to steal an orgasm from me?” he accuses you with a click of his tongue, and you immediately pull your hand away. Your clit pulses and throbs at the absence of your touch. The vibrator is still humming, keeping you at bay without pushing you enough to your release. 

“N-no, I promise,” you immediately defend yourself, your face flushing with guilt. You know that Yoongi can see through your lies, but he chooses to say nothing about it. 

“Get on your feet, sweetheart,” he gently orders you instead. Taking your hands in his, he helps you up, keeping you steady as you sway on your feet. He presses a gentle kiss on your lips and whispers, “You’ve done a great job.” 

“T-thank you,” you whisper to him back, still feeling a bit warm on the cheeks. 

“Should I reward you for being good tonight? Do you think you can handle it?” 

Your eyes grow wide. “R-right here?” 

The thought of having such intimate moment with him in a place so open and exposed seems unfathomable, yet thrilling at the same time. It won’t be the first time he offers such indecent manner in which he pleasures you while being in a place so open like this. But it would be the first time you are surrounded by people who may recognise you so easily, seeing that most of the guests are people you’ve both known for years. 

Noticing your hesitance, Yoongi teases you with a smile, “Or maybe not? Should we return to the party instead and have that dance I promised you?” 

“N-no, that’s not what I was thinking,” you immediately stop him, already too desperate to wait any longer that it doesn’t matter if he is going to fuck you right in front of everyone. “Yes, I can handle it.” You can take anything as long as you can finally get your needs satiated. “Take me, Yoongi. Please take me now.” 

Pleased to hear your answer, Yoongi pulls you to him by the waist and kisses your lips. Mouth firmly capturing yours before his tongue slips inside, pressing against yours until he draws a few moans. 

Gently, he pries himself off of you, leaving you standing hazily before he demands, “Give your hands to me.” 

Blinking away the haze still making it hard for you to focus, you bring your wrists together and offer them to him. He takes your joined wrists in one hand and reaches up to grab his tie with the other. With a firm tug, Yoongi pulls his tie loose and slips it off of his collar. Then he guides your hands to your back, before he wraps his tie around your wrists to keep them together. 

You are just about to test the bind when Yoongi slips a finger between the tie and your bound wrists, making sure that the bondage isn’t too tight. Once he is pleased with his work, he looks you in the eyes and smiles. 

“Relax, sweetheart. Now turn around,” he orders when he feels you growing tense, his gentle hand rubbing on your hip until you begin to relax and do as he commands you. 

Your legs are shaking when you turn on your heels, giving your back to him. Yoongi comes to your back, his chest pressing against your body as his lips descend. The first kiss he gives you on your bare shoulder draws a sigh out of your lips. It feels soothing, all while holding a promise that he still has more to come. 

As he slowly traces his lips up your neck, your soft sighs begin to turn into moans. 

He continues kissing your skin while his hand travels up from your waist to the front of your dress. He finds the tip of your breast through the thin fabric of your dress and covers your soft flesh with his palm, giving it a gentle rub. He rolls your covered peak between his thumb and index finger, sending shivers through your body as it grows hard and firm under his touch, while he runs his other hand down the skirt of your dress. He finds the slit of the dress and slips his hand under, quickly finding its way to your center. 

“You’ve made such a complete mess of yourself, baby girl,” he hums softly, his fingers pressing against the wet spot on your panties, the fabric has evidently grown soaked by your arousal. 

He gives a light pressure on your covered slit, pressing against the vibrator, bringing the rapid tremor deeper inside you. While pushing you back to him, Yoongi guides you until you are pressing your bottom against his thigh, stimulating the plug still lodged in your behind to join the vibrator’s maddening pace. 

Once again, he places you right over the edge of your climax, only to stop at the right time and let go before you have the chance to fall into it. 

You close your eyes to find some semblance of control in the absence of his rousing touches, which only works briefly until the moment Yoongi tugs your panties down your hips. He gives another push, and then allows gravity to take over as the fabric slides down your legs. 

He has his arm wrapped around your waist as he helps you step out of your panties. Then you feel him bending down, picking your discarded underthings from the ground. 

“Bend forward a little, sweetheart. Let me pull this thing out of you,” he mutters, his hand pushing at the back of your waist lightly until you are bent over with your ass facing him. 

Yoongi carefully hikes up your dress to your hips, exposing your bare bottom and trembling legs to the chilling breeze and his attentive eyes. “Be still,” he says, even though his words don’t matter much when his touch quickly finds your center. Resting one hand on your waist, he holds you steady in position while he reaches between your legs. 

You feel a slight push, as if he is giving you one last taste of his racy gift before he gently pulls the toy out of your heat. The vibration doesn’t stop until it slips out of the depth of your pussy, leaving behind the ghost of its tremors filling your pulsing walls while the humming noise of the device stops the moment Yoongi slips it into his pocket.

Moaning softly, you feel the desperate need to have something else to replace the void. To give something for your pussy walls to clench onto. You try to press your legs together to quiet down the constant pulsing still lingering in your heat. Yet Yoongi is having none of that. He gives you no chance to ease your needs on your own when his fingers slide in between your folds, replacing the device with his digits pressing against your throbbing walls. 

A cry leaves your lips before you can stop it, causing Yoongi to click his tongue disapprovingly. “Do you think you can keep your voice down if we continue?” 

“Yes, I—I can try,” you stutter, unable to think clearly with the way he is steadily moving his fingers in and out of your heat, much less to form words. 

After spending all evening being constantly on the edge due to the device invading your pussy, his fingers feel gloriously delectable. Every brush they give against your walls, every slide and press you get in the depth of your heat keep bringing new waves of pleasure through your body. He keeps touching and pressing the right spots inside you, as if Yoongi knows exactly which buttons to push to put you right at your limit. 

“I don’t think that’ll be good enough,” Yoongi hums as he can still hear the sound of your soft gasps and stifled moans when you keep doing so poorly in holding your voice down. Yoongi bends behind you, once again wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls his hand out of your heat and says, “Take a deep breath and open your mouth, sweetheart.” 

As much as you want to protest the loss of his touch, you obey his command and open your mouth for him. You turn your head slightly to the side so he can see it, earning a soft hum as a sign of his approval. 

“That’s a good girl,” he hums, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. As he pulls back, Yoongi lifts his hand, and you cannot help but gasp the moment you see what he has between his fingers. “Open wider, love,” he says, before shoving your soiled panties between your lips. “Bite on it so we can stop your voice from coming out too loud.” 

You follow his demand, biting down the panties and closing your mouth on the fabric before you let him guide you to face forward again. Soon, his hand returns to your heat, fingers teasing at your folds for a brief moment and then slipping between your slit. 

“Now, that’s much better,” he murmurs, sounding pleased the moment he hears your moans completely muffled by your panties. He continues thrusting his fingers into your heat, steadily going in and out of you in scissors-like motions, while he moves his arm from your waist to hold the bind on your wrists to hold you up.

At first, you grow tense. 

Stuck between the fear of getting caught, the fear of falling over—despite your trust in Yoongi to not let you go—and the gratifying pleasure you feel in your body, you almost find it hard to enjoy Yoongi’s sweet, tantalising touch. But then Yoongi pulls you back by the hold he has on your wrists, a reassuring move to show you that he is strong enough to keep you up.  

Soon, every bit of unease that you are feeling begins to fade, leaving nothing else behind but the waves of pleasure taking over your senses. Your body begins to lax, hanging languidly above the ground with Yoongi’s hold anchoring you to him. And then you find enough confidence to start gently rocking your hips to meet the steady thrusts of his fingers. You soon fall into a steady pace, bringing the pleasure to a new height when you find your rhythm together with Yoongi’s ministrations. 

But once again, Yoongi finds the right moment to deny your release, merely moments before you can reach it. 

You wish you can say something and protest the moment you feel his fingers leaving your heat. But every sound you make is suppressed by the soiled fabric that is now stuck between your teeth, except for the stifled moans coming out of your throat. 

“Patience, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin as he bends down behind you and lays a few kisses on your neck. 

His arm returns to your waist, wrapping around your body loosely to keep you steady. Next, you feel his drenched hand opening your folds, before something else starts poking at your opening. 

It doesn’t take long to realise that he has the tip of his cock prying you open. A deep sigh of relief comes out of you at the thought of finally getting your sweet reward—to have your needs satiated before the night finally ends. 

“Deep breaths through your nose, sweetheart. Do your best not to fall over,” he murmurs with a deep voice which turns into a low grunt when he pushes from behind, and his thick cock slowly enters your slick heat, filling up the emptiness that was briefly formed by the absence of his fingers. 

“Mmhh!” The sound erupts from your throat when you feel him entering you with a firm thrust, pushing as deep as he can. You struggle to breathe, your mind going blank for a brief moment with how good it feels to have him inside you. A flutter builds up right down below, earning a soft disapproving hum coming from Yoongi. And then he goes still. 

“I haven’t given you permission to come, sweetheart. Try to hold back until I say so,” he gently reminds you, his hand moving down to cup your trembling thigh to keep your legs spread open for him. “Do you understand? You can’t come until I let you.” 

“Hmm—” you moan while nodding frantically, desperately hoping for him to start moving again. 

“Good girl. Remember to breathe.” 

You follow his order and breathe in through your nose, just in time for his cock to push deeper, forcing your pussy to stretch around him and let him in. You push back, hoping desperately to have him completely fill you up. Yoongi pushes and pulls for a few more times, sliding his cock in and out until he gets deeper and deeper—until you can feel the tip of his cock pressing at the hilt of your pussy. 

It feels so good. You feel so full with him buried deep inside you. And the more he continues to move, the more pleasure you feel rising from within. Not only from the depth of your core—when it seems like his thrusts are pressing against your sweet spot—but also from behind. His steady thrusts are making it seem as if the anal plug is also moving in tune with his cock—as if you have another cock penetrating you from behind. 

With each thrust he gives you, he goes deeper, harder, and as he starts going faster, he makes you feel like you are floating at the height of your pleasure. 

With your hands still tied behind your back, and only his hands keeping you up with a tight hold of your waist, you feel like you are levitating. But instead of feeling like you are losing balance, you find yourself embracing the thrill, the pleasure increasing rapidly the more you give him complete control of your body.

You are once again close. Already hanging on the precipice of your climax. 

Yoongi must be feeling it too, when he suddenly moves his hands down your sides, stopping at your hips and giving it a tight grip. The change of pace and gravity stops you from falling apart. And then comes his order, demanding you to hold back.

“Not yet, baby,” Yoongi groans, his thrusts growing erratic, letting you know that he is also feeling the same desperate need for release. Yet he seems to want to prolong this pleasure just a bit more, causing you to struggle even harder to hold back. “Just a bit more. Take it a bit more.” 

His words are strained, coming out breathless as he suddenly picks up his pace. His thrusts now come with force, hitting you deeply without a hint of mercy. 

You throw your head back, crying out at the overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure. The panties are still there, swallowing any sound threatening to come out of your mouth. With a deep grunt of his own making, Yoongi claims what he desires, so impassioned, he’s unable to stop himself. You keep releasing stifled moans and writhe beneath him, enjoying the way he is taking complete control of your pleasure, and losing himself in the midst of it.

With his hands holding your hips in a punishing grip, he takes control over your body to move it in tune with his thrusts. Just as your body lurches forward as if you are about to fall over, he reaches out and wraps one hand around your throat to hold you up against his chest. 

“I don’t want to ruin your hair, so this will have to do,” he groans sweetly into your ear. “Take shallow breaths through your nose, sweetheart. And take me in.” 

Oh, God, you scream out in your head as he thrusts forward, burying himself deeper with a force that takes the air out of your chest. 

You don’t know how much longer you can hold on. Yoongi knows how to control his pace. Each time he feels you getting closer to falling over the edge of your climax, he would slow down, pulling you back down from the rising pleasure. It happens a few times, always followed by a series of quick thrusts reaching as deep as he can reach the moment he feels your climbing orgasm winding down. 

“Can you see the party from here, sweetheart?” he whispers between each hard thrust he is giving you.

You open your eyes, looking across the garden to where the lights are shining brightly around the wedding tents and the guests dancing with the bride and groom as they enjoy the rest of the party, completely oblivious to what is happening in the dark not too far away.

“Try to make sure no one sees you. I wonder what your friends would think if they see you acting like a slut when you’re supposed to be focusing on your friend’s wedding reception.” 

Your heartbeat is racing. The thought of someone turning their heads in this direction brings a cold shiver down your spine. Oddly enough, it also makes you feel a deep thrill like you never felt before. It makes everything feel even more intense, everything is heightened that your pleasure rises up like a tidal wave.

“Ah, does the thought of getting caught excite you? You’re tightening around me,” Yoongi groans, chuckling softly in your ear while he continues to tease you, “You love it when someone watches you being treated like a slut, don’t you?” 

Something in his words draws a reaction from your body. You can feel your walls fluttering around his cock, your desire growing stronger instead of feeling shame. “Oh, fuck. You feel so damn good,” Yoongi once again mutters with a groan, his thrusts growing even more erratic as he keeps rocking against your body. 

“Hmmh—” Your cries calling for his name are muffled, swallowed by the panties in your mouth, and it wanes even further when Yoongi tightens his hold around your throat, just enough without completely cutting your breath. Within seconds, you are made to feel as if you are high in pleasure, your mind growing so hazy in the same way you would should you be drinking heavily right now. 

You feel pure, carnal pleasure rushing through your body as he thrusts forward, hitting all the right spots with each stroke. When the spasms of your climax begin to return, and you seem to be losing the fight to hold it back, Yoongi moves his free hand down your front, finding your center through the slit of your dress. 

“Ready to cum, sweetheart?” 

The only answer you can give him is a muffled cry through the panties in your mouth, but still enough for Yoongi to know what you want. He slips his free hand down your center, moving under the skirt of your dress, which keeps flowing even without any wind breezing strongly around you. 

Finding your heat, he brushes your swollen clit and gives it a light pinch while he pushes himself forward for one last defining thrust. “That’s it, baby. Come. Come for me.” 

His command is your undoing. Immediately, you unravel. It almost feels like the dam just breaks apart the moment you let it happen. Your entire body trembles in your climax. Your muscles contract around his cock, clenching around him while he continues thrusting in and out, prolonging the pleasure for you while chasing his own release. 

Your walls are now clenching tightly around his cock in your final release, which finally brings him to his climax. With a deep grunt out of his lips, Yoongi lets go. His cock pulses inside you before it pours his cum deep inside your heat. 

The warm feeling of his cum filling you up nearly sends you over the edge once again. Perhaps you are having it, as smaller spasms of your orgasm come surging delicately, spreading all over your body like ripples forming on water. 

You relish the feeling, riding your high and the pulses happening inside you with Yoongi still buried deep in your heat. Until Yoongi’s hand slips between your bodies, tugging the anal plug and pulling it out through your clenching muscles, setting you off to another, wild climax. Just like a ripple effect, your final release sets him off to another, when his whole body shudders violently behind you and more drops of his warm cum fills your heat.

Still riding the height of your climax, you can’t sense anything else happening around you.

The only thing you can take notice of is the slow and steady thrusts Yoongi is still giving you while you are both riding the height of your release and the way your body is slowly rocking to meet him. With his free hand, Yoongi reaches forward and pulls your panties out of your mouth. His palm is no longer on your throat, but instead on your chin, turning your face to look over your shoulder so he can kiss your lips.  

The only sounds you can hear are the sound of your heartbeat and ragged breaths, the soft sighs he keeps making, the rustling sounds of the bushes and crunching leaves coming from around you, and the faint sound of music slowly returning to your senses. 

“Beautiful. You are always a sight to see when you climax,” Yoongi murmurs against your lips. You return his kiss, noticing him slowing down until he finally stops moving, letting you feel nothing more but the pulses lingering in your core. 

Once your bodies are calm, and you have both come down from your climax, Yoongi gently eases his cock out of your heat. Drops of cum follow his exit, flooding down the insides of your thighs. A tug is felt at your back, and the next thing you know, your hands are freed. 

You are still in a daze that everything that happens next becomes nothing but blurry moments; the way he helps you straighten up; the way he turns you around until you are facing him so he can carefully inspect your reactions; the gentle way he takes your wrists to his lips so he can kiss the remnants of your restraints away from your skin, and how he plucks your panties into his pocket instead of returning them to you. 

Finding balance on your feet, your mind clears up, and your skin flushes with warmth when you remember where you are. While you are still hidden behind the hedges, you are still outside, not far enough from the party still going on to avoid being noticed. The thought somehow excites you, causing your body to pulse with a newfound excitement. 

More and more of your cum and release are dripping out of your center, falling down your thighs, though they are completely hidden by the skirt of your dress once Yoongi fixes everything back in place—except for your missing underthings. 

“Do you have enough, sweetheart?” 

Exhaling a deep breath, you let yourself fall into his embrace. “I—I do, but—” 

Yoongi softly chuckles. “Should we continue back home, where I can clean you up?” he asks while running his gaze down your body with a pleased look on his face. “If you can keep my cum inside you and not let them spill to the last drop until we get home, I will spoil you for the rest of the night.” 

You lick your lips. Your body is exhausted after the wild tryst you just shared, yet his promise ignites something new inside you. “Promise?” 

With a grin, Yoongi kisses your lips gently. “When have I ever disappointed you, sweetheart?” 

“Then hurry and take me home,” you whisper against his lips, eager to know what he has planned for you next. 

It doesn’t take as much time making yourselves presentable enough to return to the party as it did for Yoongi to completely make you unravel in a wave of bliss. 

Except for the cum dripping out of your center, your dress seems untouched. Not a sight of creases nor dirt is visible on its fabric. Your hair remains flawless, and Yoongi gives you a moment to carefully do a little touch-up on your makeup before you can finally step out of the dark. 

Yoongi finishes fixing his suit jacket, leaving his crinkled tie hanging on the lapels of his suit as he straightens up beside you. He looks immaculate once he is done. As if he hadn’t been fucking you to a complete oblivion just moments ago. It makes you feel slightly insecure when you still feel slightly rattled. 

Not to mention that you are hiding a dirty secret under your dress, the slickness from your release and his are spreading on your skin and dripping further down to your ankles each time you move. 

Taking your hand in his, he brings it to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles. “Shall we go back to the party and say goodbye to the newlyweds so we can go home?” 

Your body seems to be so sensitive to his touch still, as your face flushes at the touch of his lips on your skin. “Yes, let’s go,” you answer with a sigh, and let him place your hand around his elbow so you can lean on him as he takes you back to the venue. 

Walking back to the party feels disorienting. The guest area is much brighter than the rest of the garden, and the guests are still lively—mostly—as it gets deeper into the night. Some are dancing, some are lounging near the open bar, enjoying the free drinks and gossips, while others are resting by the dining area. 

Finding the bride and groom is quite easy, as they are still celebrating and keeping the party alive while dancing at the heart of the venue. Your friend, the bride, protests with a whine when you tell her that it’s time for you to go, before letting you go with a few drunken kisses on your cheeks. 

You are just walking away from the newlyweds, clinging heavily against Yoongi, when someone else comes to your path. 

“Leaving so soon?” 

You lift your head, noticing the handsome, well-dressed man standing before you. His eyes sparkle under the lights around you as he greets Yoongi. A curious smile spreads on his face when he looks your way, and you can sense that there is something hidden in his gaze as his eyes linger on you a few seconds too long. 

“Ah, Jungkook. I didn’t know you were here,” Yoongi greets the man with a handshake. “How have you been?” 

“Good,” Jungkook says, and you finally remember him as one of Yoongi’s close friends who hasn’t been around for a while. The two of them talk for a moment, sharing quick updates about their lives before Yoongi feels you swaying against him, your legs slowly giving out when exhaustion finally rolls through your body. It is then when Yoongi finally tells Jungkook that it’s time for the two of you to leave the wedding party. 

Jungkook nods. “That’s too bad. But I suppose your little stroll through the garden earlier had tired you enough to call it quits this early in the night,” he says, looking at you with a knowing smile. As he speaks, his eyes seem to show a glint of mirth. You have no idea why he is looking at you this way until he adds, “I also had a quick stroll out the garden earlier to sober myself up before I’m ready to head home.” 

Your heart starts beating hard in your chest. “You did?” 

Jungkook’s grin deepens. “I must say—the garden seems to have quite some interesting spectacles to admire, so I found myself enjoying the sights I saw. So many things to see and—watch.” 

Hearing this, your head begins to spin. You start to remember all the tidbits that you may have ignored while you were being ravished by Yoongi between the green hedges; the rustling sound of leaves and bushes, the crunching sounds of dry leaves coming from the ground, and the faint sound of receding footsteps that you initially brushed off as something that may have come from the party. 

Your breath is caught when you realise—he was there. 

Feeling the way you grow tense beside him, Yoongi pulls you closer. The moment you hear the sound of his soft chuckle, you know that he can feel the way your body is reacting to the realisation that you had secretly gained an audience during your public exploit earlier. Instead of fear and shame, your body has grown warm. Your breathing is slow and heavy, and your heartbeat is thrumming wildly in your chest as you are filled with excitement. 

Everything heightens further when Jungkook runs his gaze up and down your body, as if he can see right through you—right through your dress—to know your secret. It makes you feel naked under his eyes. 

It makes you feel hot. 

“Sounds like you truly enjoyed your time in the garden earlier,” Yoongi hums. His words are directed at Jungkook, yet he keeps glancing at you from the corner of his eyes with an amused smile on his face.

Jungkook laughs softly and easily admits, “I enjoyed it a little bit too much, actually, since I almost lost track of time.” 

“I see,” Yoongi answers with a low hum before turning to look at you. Realising that Yoongi has noticed the change of mood you are showing, your skin flushes. But then he smiles, and something about the way he is looking at you seems suggestive, yet none of it makes you grow wary. Your past experience and playtimes with Yoongi have taught you enough of his wicked intentions to know what he may have planned now that he realised what Jungkook had witnessed moments ago. 

But instead of deciding right away, he keeps his eyes on you, gauging your reaction while waiting for your approval. 

You give a subtle nod at his silent question, and he instantly turns back to Jungkook. “Are you free this weekend? Why don’t you drop by at our place for dinner?” he offers, “We have quite a lot to catch up on.” 

You know exactly what he has in mind when he invites his friend to your home. Your anticipation grows rapidly at all the possibilities that might be running through Yoongi’s thoughts right now, while you are wishing to know what Jungkook is thinking as his eyes grow darker. He seems to understand what the offer truly means, and you can tell that you are right about it when his grin widens. 

“Sounds like a wonderful idea,” he says, shaking Yoongi’s hand. He turns to you next, taking your hand and bending down to kiss the back of it, saying, “I can’t wait to spend some time with the beautiful host.” 

You smile at him in return. 

Neither can you. 

— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[bonnibelleangelica]

3 Exercises To Improve Your Writing/Manuscript

1) Sentence Patterning 🎨

Print off a random page of your work and use different coloured highlighters on each sentence depending on how long they are. You might notice you’ve been stuck in a rhythm without realising it. A rainbow is what you want to see!

2) Stickynoting! 📝

Write out each scene (or topic change) on a stickynote thats colour indicates how plotheavy it is. A few fluffy, relaxed scenes are fine, but you don’t want half the book to be pointless. Likewise, you also don't want every scene to be insanely over the top.

3) Pindropping 📌

Draw a line, mark out the major events of your story, then drop in every revelation, character introduction, first mention, shift and development. See how dense certain areas might be vs others. Do you throw everything at the reader in the first chapter? Or do you hold back too much and leave your audience clueless.

Here are some examples I did for my book!

Click “My Writing Tips” in the tags for more!

Click here to check out my book! @statusquoofficial

[sixeyesonathiel]

bet on blue — f1driver!gojo x gf!reader

fluff, meant to parallel free throws & figure drawings. there's just something so fine about gojo satoru going bonkers once the love of his life bets on him <3

you weren’t supposed to say it.

not like that.

not now—when the air still hums with anticipation, when the scent of engine oil and tire polish settles thick on the back of your tongue, when your heart’s already pounding like it knows what’s coming, trying to match the rhythm of countdowns and pit crew drills.

but you do.

because you can’t keep your mouth shut around him. because your skin still buzzes from watching him tear through the track like a man possessed. because there’s something so sharp and untouchable about the way he moves—fast, unrelenting, devastating—and it makes your chest ache with something too big to name.

because satoru gojo is the most terrifying and beautiful thing you’ve ever seen when he’s racing. and you were never any good at playing it safe.

“i bet on you.”

the words leave your mouth without ceremony, unpolished, tumbling clumsily into the space between you.

he's got his back to you, adjusting the straps on his helmet, his focus sharp as he readies himself for the race. the top of his fireproof suit is already unzipped, the fabric clinging to his torso as he shifts, every movement deliberate and calculated. the suit, darkened in spots where the sweat's started to settle, emphasizes the lean muscle of his frame. his hair is messy and damp, wild strands of white falling into his eyes, evidence of the heat and pressure he’s already been battling all morning.

his shoulders go still.

you don’t see his face at first, but you see the shift in him—like the gears in his head lock suddenly. like the whole world slams on the brakes. he turns slowly, glancing over one shoulder with narrowed eyes, the pale blue of them catching the light like fractured glass.

“what?”

you fold your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg, trying not to let your nerves show. your tongue presses hard against the inside of your cheek.

“like... sports betting,” you say, and your voice is too light, too nonchalant to be casual. “on today’s race. i put everything i had in savings on you.”

his jaw drops.

literally.

you watch the whole thing unfold like a slow-motion scene—the way his mouth opens slightly, the way his brows lift, how the color in his face flickers between confusion and horror. he looks like he just got slapped with a wet towel.

“you’re joking.”

you shake your head, biting down a grin. “nope.”

one beat. then another.

you can practically hear the static between you.

“you—are you insane?”

there’s genuine panic in his voice now, laced beneath the disbelief. he takes a step forward, then another—hands half-extended like he doesn’t know whether to shake you or pull you into his arms. finally, he grabs you by the shoulders, fingers curling into your jacket like he’s trying to keep you from evaporating.

his palms are hot. a little sweaty. a little trembling.

“you bet how much?”

you tilt your chin up, pride and nerves fighting for dominance. “ten thousand.”

his reaction is immediate and dramatic—his eyes widen, his lips part in shock, and he makes a noise that can only be described as a strangled gasp-scream hybrid. he spins away from you like he’s trying to physically escape the consequences of your words, dragging his hands through his hair until it’s sticking up in all directions.

“you WHAT—”

you dissolve into laughter. his horror is tangible, full-bodied, like it physically hurts him. he paces in frantic, looping circles, muttering to himself as if trying to rewrite the last thirty seconds.

“baby—do you have any idea how bad that is?” he finally exclaims, spinning back toward you with wild eyes. “what if i crash? what if the brakes lock up? what if some asshole takes me out on turn two again?”

you shrug. “then i go broke. and i sell feet pics.”

his face twists in agony. “NO!” he shouts, like you just proposed a blood ritual. “no, no, no—i’m going to win. i have to win now. i have to—i’m going to destroy everyone. i’m going to lap verstappen.”

“don’t think that’s possible on this circuit.”

he points a finger at you, accusatory. “i will make it possible.”

his eyes are blazing—like holy fire. and his hair, still spiked in wild directions, makes him look unhinged. like a beautiful lunatic.

you snort, watching the way his chest rises and falls with quick, shallow breaths. you reach up and touch his face, the pad of your thumb brushing just beneath his cheekbone. his skin is flushed and sticky, a thin sheen of sweat catching the light. he flinches slightly at your touch, like the gentleness startles him, then leans into it.

just for a second.

“you’re cute when you’re feral.” you murmur.

his eyes flutter shut briefly. like it grounds him. like you ground him.

you always do.

but he’s not cute on track.

he’s terrifying.

when the lights go out, he launches off the line like a missile.

you watch with your heart in your throat as he threads through corners with razor precision, faster than physics, faster than common sense. lap after lap, he pushes the car like it’s an extension of his will, shaving off milliseconds with each turn.

“manage pace.” his engineer warns.

he doesn’t even pretend to listen.

“you’re purple sectoring too aggressively.”

his voice crackles back, tight and low—“she bet ten thousand. i need more purple.”

the commentators laugh, but it’s a nervous kind of laughter. the kind that comes before something historic.

by lap fifteen, he’s broken the lap record. by twenty, the race record. by twenty-five, he’s leaving the field in the dust, overtaking cars like they insulted his ancestors.

he crosses the finish line thirty seconds ahead of p2.

the stands erupt. the commentators go breathless. the scoreboard lights up like a war won.

but none of that matters.

he’s already moving—yanking off gloves, hands shaking, helmet off and thrown somewhere onto the pit wall. his hair is soaked through with sweat now, sticking to his forehead and temples in wild strands.

the moment the car stops, he climbs out like it’s on fire. his boots hit the ground, and he’s running—ignoring the team, the cameras, the crowd.

you. he’s only looking at you.

amidst the roar of the crowd and the crackle of radio chatter, it’s like the rest of the world disappears. your eyes lock, and time stretches, the chaos around you fading into a blur. you’re still by the barrier, hands trembling against your mouth, eyes wide in disbelief. you can’t move, frozen in the instant. his gaze is all-consuming, like he's pulling you into his orbit.

he reaches you in four strides, swift and confident, the tension in his muscles unmistakable as he closes the distance between you.

“you—” he starts, voice hoarse from exertion, but then the words cut off, and without another word, he lifts you off the ground.

your feet leave the earth. your heart does too.

his grip is firm, his hands at your waist, and for a moment, you feel weightless. the adrenaline still vibrates through his body, and it sends a ripple of warmth through yours. his eyes, wide with disbelief, are only on you. there’s a mix of awe and frantic joy in his gaze as if he can’t quite believe this is real.

“ten thousand dollars!” he shouts, voice louder now, and then—without warning—he pulls you into him. his lips crash against yours, messy and desperate. it’s like a collision of everything—teeth, tongues, breathless gasps, and all the tension of the race exploding in a kiss. it’s uncoordinated, a beautiful chaos, and it tastes like victory. like danger. like home.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, his hands still clutching you like he can’t let go, even if he wanted to. “you fucking gambled on me,” he murmurs, his voice ragged with emotion. “what kind of insane, gorgeous, genius idiot are you?”

you laugh, breathless and caught in the aftermath of his kiss. your fingers curl into the collar of his half-unzipped suit, your knuckles brushing against the damp skin on his neck, feeling the heat still radiating from him. his pulse thunders against your chest, the rhythm in sync with yours.

“the kind who knew you’d win.” you whisper, and the words feel like the truth. you always knew he would.

he stares at you for a beat, his mouth twitching into a crooked grin. “you’re not allowed to bet on anyone else ever again.”

you raise an eyebrow, trying to act like you’re considering his request, but you know it’s a losing battle. “what if i bet on you every race?”

his smirk is cocky, his eyes gleaming with mischief. he presses his forehead to yours, the contact grounding. his breath is still ragged, and his smile is utterly smug. “then i’ll win every race. world records be damned. i’ll win everything.”

there’s that unwavering confidence in his voice. and you know—he means it. he will win everything. but right now, all he cares about is you. and you can’t help the warmth blooming in your chest.

when he finally sets you down, it’s with reluctance, like he’s dragging himself away from something he doesn’t want to leave. but he doesn’t let go of your hand—no, he tangles his fingers with yours, his grip firm and possessive, pulling you along with him through the pit lane, through the chaos of the crowd.

his body language is effortless, his movements commanding, as if he’s always in control. but there’s something in the way he holds your hand, the way he keeps you close, that says more than any words could. he’s not just the fastest driver on the planet. right now, in this moment, he’s completely and utterly yours.

the media swarm as soon as you make it to the front. flashes of cameras blind you both, the noise overwhelming. satoru’s got you tucked under his arm like a prize, and he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. you’re still trying to steady your breathing, but all you can focus on is how he’s still wearing that grin, the one that makes him look like he owns the world. his hair is a mess, damp and wild from the race, and his fireproof suit is half-unzipped, barely clinging to his chest. he doesn’t care about any of it. all he cares about is you.

the flash of a camera catches you at just the wrong angle, and you wince when you feel the lipstick smudge along your lips. your heart skips when you catch sight of it—a small smear on the corner of his mouth, and a dark streak of color against his cheek from where you kissed him so urgently. it's messy, but the evidence of the kiss only makes him look even more alluring.

“this win’s for her,” he announces into the mic, all charm and teeth, like he’s not sweating, like he didn’t just push his body to the limit to win. “she believed in me. also, she bet her savings on me, so if i lost, i was gonna have to start an onlyfans.”

the press laughs, but you can’t find the strength to smile. you bury your face into his shoulder, mortified by the lipstick smudge on his face that you’re certain is going to become a headline. you feel the warmth of his skin against your cheek, and then, you feel his chuckle rumble in his chest. his fingers brush the edge of your face, gently adjusting your hair, before he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. it’s like he’s claiming you all over again. “don’t worry,” he says, voice teasing, “i’ll make sure no one notices.”

you’re still in a daze, trying to recover from the whirlwind, but the thought of everyone seeing the mark you left on him has you cringing. satoru, of course, doesn’t seem to mind at all. if anything, it seems to amuse him.

“anyway,” he grins, pulling back just enough to look at you. “guess it’s her turn to buy dinner now.”

the crowd erupts in cheer, but you’re barely aware of them. all you can hear is the sound of your heart thundering in your chest and the warmth of his lips still lingering on your skin. maybe this is it—maybe this is the moment when everything shifts. because as satoru’s hand tightens around yours, you realize that the win he’s really talking about isn’t the race.

it’s you.

and to satoru gojo, that’s the only victory that matters.

a/n : you then get banned to five betting sites for insider trading 💔 dont nitpick about the race pls i did my best😔 if u saw the wrong version of this earlier no u didn't🩷 did i ever mention transferring my works from my drafts to tumblr is hell?🤗 IT HAD TO ESCAPE MY DRAFTS WHILE I WAS STILL EDITING TOO. i feel like i would implode from embarassment every damn time this typa shit happens😭

anyways this my apology to satoru for reader only betting the minimum on his team at free throws and figure drawings LMAOOO.