#i have a feeling that the thing that pulled me into liking this trope MAY be actually this one random exposure to THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN TH
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rinja-espurr · 5 months ago
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dont know why i love that specific trope so much but this is so good. the trope ever actually
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burntoutdaydreamer · 1 year ago
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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them
I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.
In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:
(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)
Perfectionism (most common)
What it looks like:
You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"
Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.
Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?
I hate everything I write
Cringing while writing
My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer
Things that can help:
Give yourself permission to suck
Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft
Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later
People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later
Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing
Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase
Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail
It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page
Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)
What it looks like:
Head empty, no ideas
What do I even write about???
I don't have a plot, I just have an image
Want to write but no story to write
Things that can help:
Google writing prompts
If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out
Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that
It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing
Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them
If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later
Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)
What it looks like:
I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt
Writing words feels like pulling teeth
I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted
I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window
Things that can help:
Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.
Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text
Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score
Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group
Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph
Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer
Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)
What it looks like:
I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop
I don't even know where to start
I love writing, but I can never seem to get started
I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)
Can't find the time or energy
Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)
Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying
Things that can help:
Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started
Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)
Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person
Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement
The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))
What it looks like:
I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene
I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going
I don't think I'm doing this right
What's an outline?
Drowning in documents
This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)
Things That Can Help:
Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working
A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go
If you don't have an outline, write one
If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it
You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural
Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them
Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers
Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough
Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism
What it looks like:
Everything in boredom/understimulation
Everything in intimidation/procrastination
You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism
Things that can help:
If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment
Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)
Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support
Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch
Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)
And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness
What it looks like:
You have symptoms of burnout or depression
Struggling with all things, not just writing
It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead
Things that can help:
Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.
Seek professional help
If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic
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cryptictongues · 5 months ago
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The Thrill of the Chase
pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Mutant!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 7.1K summary: Logan ate part of your sandwich, so you stole his cigars. Things turn out differently from what you were expecting.
warnings: fluff and smut, teasing, slight predator/prey trope, banter, making out, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting, soft!dom Logan
Author's Note: My first Logan fic! X-Men used to be my world and the fact it is making a comeback has rejuvenated me. Also, I was picturing Logan from the first three trilogies but DOFP!Logan also crossed my mind so :)
Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.
[AO3 link]
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It was getting close to evening, everyone doing their own thing to unwind after a long day of classes and teaching. You had planned to do the same thing, planning to grab a quick bite in the kitchen before getting ready to relax in your room. You were whipping up a quick and easy sandwich, assembling it onto a plate before moving it to the island in the middle of the kitchen. You went to get a soda from the cupboard, only for your skin to raise as you sense something is about to happen: a certain someone was about to come take your sandwich. 
“If you take one bite out of my sandwich Logan, I will kick your ass.”
You turn to see him, eyes wide along with his mouth, about to chomp into your dinner. He closes his mouth, only for him to keep the sandwich in his hands and an “innocent” smile on his face. 
“Oh, you mean this sandwich?” 
You shut the cupboard door, walking over to him with a stern, playful look. You know he is messing with you. That has been the dynamic of your relationship with him. Ever since he decided to stay here at the school and join the X-Men, you two have grown closer and closer, enjoying each other’s company over anyone else. It didn’t matter what either of you did. You both thrived in the presence of one another. 
But something that has become common practice as of late was playful in nature. You both have always teased, but it has recently ramped up. If one of you started it, the other would find a way to end it before starting again. It was the push and pull between the two of you that you loved, and it has only made you long for him. You want to believe he feels the same, but even your mutation of precognition can’t fully confirm that. 
“Yes, that is my sandwich. I worked very hard on it. I'll have you know.” You are standing in front of him now, having to look up at him slightly as you wait for his next move. 
“I’m sure you did. It looks delicious.” He says, but rather than looking at the food, he is looking right at you. Cheeky bastard.
“Y-yeah, which is why I am asking you to put it down so I may enjoy it.” 
“I don’t know. I think I wanna have a taste first.” 
His hazel eyes are staring you down, almost begging for you to make a move. In reality, you really didn’t care if he ate it. You could easily make another and enjoy dinner with him. But you know that isn’t what he is doing right now. He is playing with you, wanting to rile you up. Well, it takes two to play that game.
“That sandwich is very precious to me. I’d think before you act.”
“Oh yeah?” He smirks, bringing his face closer to yours. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I’ll take something precious of yours.” 
He chuckles, turning his face to the sandwich. “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart.”
He takes a huge bite out of your sandwich, his eyes closing as he chews. You purse your lips, watching him savor your meal with gusto. You know he is overexaggerating to truly get at you, but little does he know you have a trick up your sleeve.
“Enjoying my meal?” 
He turns back to you, swallowing before licking his lips. “Very much. I may have to take another bite.”
You get up in his space, settling onto your tippy toes so your face is by his ear. You let your breath waft against his skin, causing a shiver to shake his core. You can tell he is anticipating what you will do, always highly enjoying your responses to his antics. Oh, he is so in for it.
“That’s okay. You can have it.” You let your pointer finger trace his collarbone that is very much on display from his white, fitted tank. “And you want to know why that is, Logan?”
He takes a deep breath, very apparent that your actions are doing something to him. His left hand lets go of the sandwich to settle on your hip, squeezing the flesh slightly to ground himself. It is actions like that that make you believe you do something to him. Like you drive him just as insane as he does to you. You bring your left hand to his head, pulling him down so you can really get into his ear. 
“That’s because I know where you keep your special cigars from Cuba, and I am going to take them.”
You couldn’t have run fast enough. You are already shooting for the stairs, taking two steps at a time as you speed to his room. You knew it had taken him a second to realize what had happened because by the time you got to his floor, you heard him yelling your name. 
You burst into his room, locking it quickly. It was only to buy some time, for you knew he had a key. You were giggling as you went to his bookcase, plucking out the blue, hardcover history book. You open it, and smile as you see the unopened cigars there in the deep hole where text used to be. Just as you close the book, you hear heavy footsteps reach the door and a jingle of keys.
You panic, needing to find a way out before he opens the door. You could run around him, but you needed a head start. You could hide and wait for him to leave but you knew he’d sniff you out. There was only one option left, and that was to go out his bedroom window. You hear the key enter the lock, and with a quickness you didn’t think you had, you unlocked his window and flung it open. Just as the door busted open, you crawled out. You grasped onto the ivy that clung to the school’s exterior and began to climb down. 
“Oh, when I get my hands on you, you are in for it!”
You look up to see Logan’s head popping out the window. He has a scowl on his face, but you could see the wild look in his eyes. You knew he was enjoying this, for he loves the chase.
“This is for taking my sandwich!” You yell, and continue making your descent. 
You hear the window close, which makes you go faster, knowing he is rushing down those stairs to meet you at the bottom. You could sense that he would go to the front door, so once your feet touch the grassy floor you run to the back door. Opening it quickly, you determine your next move. He is probably at the front, ready to intercept you, giving you the opportunity to hide somewhere. 
You rush to the hallway where many of the classes are held. You run into the first classroom you see, its door already open. You see the large oak desk at the back of the classroom, and quietly walk up to it. It has a space for leg room, so with haste you crawl in it, pulling the chair in carefully to not make any sound. 
Your heart was racing, adrenaline thrashing as you hid. You try to steady your breath, trying to keep quiet. The atmosphere has become eerie, the silence defying as you try to keep it that way. You try to listen for any other sounds over your pounding heart, when another wave of cognition hits you. You can see it clearly, where he finds you under the desk, hands on either side to block you in. You know you need to move on, so you go to move the chair, but you suddenly halt when you hear his voice boom nearby.
“Where is she?” 
You cover your mouth, trying to hold in your breathing as well as the gasp that almost shot from your mouth. His voice was coated in gravel, and absolutely primal. Even from afar, it was clear he was worked up, and it made you embarrassingly wet. 
You hear footsteps enter the hallway, heavy boots against the shiny wooden floor. At first, you think you may have a way out, hearing him pass the room you were in, but you aren’t so lucky because you hear him stop. You grip onto the book and your mouth, even though you know it will do absolutely nothing. You know he senses you, and it is confirmed when you hear footsteps enter the room. You hear him inhale deeply, exhaling with sigh only to turn into a deep rumble. 
“I know you are here.” He is slow in taking his steps, and each step gets closer and closer to your hiding place. 
He sniffs deeply again, growling this time around like he was a wild animal. “No point in denying it. I could smell you the second I walked into the hall.”
You know he will find you, and he will block you in. So you decide to take a risk before he closes in on you. You push the chair out far enough to crawl out, before standing up behind the desk. You put your hands up with the book in your left one, trying to show off a sign of surrender. 
“You have nowhere to go, dollface. No point in trying’ to run for I’ll snatch you up real quick.” 
“You must really want your cigars back to block me in like this.” 
He steps even closer, with him now standing right in reach of the book. He could easily grab it and take it, for he is much stronger than you. But he doesn’t make a move, staying glued to his new spot. You don’t know what’s running through his head, his eyes trained on you. It isn’t until he places his hands onto the desk that you take a step back and drop your hands. 
“You’re wrong.”
You raise a brow, not sure what he is getting at. “What do you mean?”
He smirks, leaning his body over the desk. “It isn’t the cigars I’m after. Not anymore.”
Your heart is in overdrive. You know the answer, it is becoming obvious. But you ask anyway. “Then what are you after, Lo?”
“I think you know the answer. Now it is a matter of will you let me take what’s mine.”
You want to give in. You are becoming more aroused by the second, but you are starting to really enjoy the chase. Seeing how much it gets him going, to see this side of him, only makes you want to push him more. You want to see what he will do, especially when he gets his hands on you.
You walk around the desk, book of cigars still in hand, getting closer to him until you are toe to toe with him. “What’s the fun in surrendering?”
He quickly blocks you in, the desk pressed against your back. He has the most seductive, but feral grin upon his lips, like he thinks he has won his prize. His head leans down to yours, forehead against forehead, before he whispers his next sentence against your lips.
“The fun is in what follows.”
His lips are on yours, desperate and needy. You can’t help the moan that leaves your throat, mind going hazy as his lips devour. You have craved him for so long, you want this to last forever. However, you cannot give into him like this. You will not make this easy for him.
One of your hands goes to the hem of his tank, fingers lingering before going under. He feels so solid, the coarse hairs on his tummy spread thick as you go to his left side. You can feel him shudder over you, and you try to hold back the smirk that wants to curve onto your lips. You move your fingers sporadically over the left side of his ribcage, causing him to jump back. This gives you the chance to run like hell.
“Hey! That’s unfair!” You hear him yell and it makes you giggle profusely. You must thank Jean later for letting you in on that little secret; that the broody, grumpy man with the metal bones was insanely ticklish. You wish you could turn to see his full reaction, but you are too determined.
You can hear him running right behind you, and you have never been more aroused. You shouldn’t feel so turned on by Logan chasing you around, but the thrill of the chase was seeping into your loins and you were addicted. 
More people had shown up around the school, meeting with friends to study or hang out for the evening. You were dodging people left and right, and everyone looked perplexed as they saw Logan charging his way towards you. Many of them probably assumed it had to do with the book you were holding, and while they would have been originally right, they are no longer even close. 
You don’t have time to hide again, not with him so close behind. You make it back to the stairs, hauling ass as you try to make it to your room. You can hear him right behind you, breathing heavily and grunting with each step. Your room is at the end of the hall, and you are basically flying with how fast you are running. The second you reach the door, you swing it open and throw yourself in before slamming it. You had gotten it shut, mentally pumping your fist in victory, but by the time you went to turn the lock, it was too late. The door flies open, sending you back a couple feet back as Logan stands at the door's entrance. 
“I have you right where I want you. No more running.”
If looks could kill, you’d be ash. He enters your room, closing the door behind him with his eyes staying on you. He takes one step forward, with him now hovering over your smaller form. The way he is looking at you makes your knees faint, for you felt you could hear what he was revealing with his stare. 
“I still know your weakness, Logan.” You smirk, holding the book up to your face to dodge any attack he was planning. It is pointless, you know, but it is the best defense you’ve got. 
“Do you now?” He walks towards you, in step with you as you go backwards. The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, telling you that you truly have nowhere else to go. He is right on you, grinning now that he has the upper hand. 
“I’m afraid that book won’t save you from me.” He snatches the book, tossing it to the side of the bed. 
You are in for it. You don’t know what he is planning, and the element of surprise has overcome you. However, with the way he is looking at you, you guarantee that what is about to happen will be just as exhilarating as when he was hunting you down. 
“What do you plan to do with me, hm?” You let your fingertips walk along his chest, dancing all the way down to his side like you did earlier. 
He is quick to grab your hand, bending down to lift you up in his arm before tossing you onto the bed, following swiftly as he pins both hands above your head. 
“Don’t even think about it. I know you all too well.” He growls through his teeth. “As for what I plan on doing, what’s the fun in telling when I can just show you. Would you like that?”
You simply nod, breathless at how he is handling you. However, that wasn’t good enough for him, as he takes hold of your wrists in one hand so his other one can grip your chin.
“I wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.”
You huff, getting frustrated already that he is dragging this out. With your legs still free, you wrap them around his hips, your heels digging into his back causing him to grunt. Your lips are practically on his, faint contact making you antsy. “Show me what you’ve been wanting to do with me.”
Your lips are squashed by his instantly, hunger and desperation clear. His hands go to your thighs, grabbing at the flesh. With your hands free, they go straight to his hair, gripping and tugging on it which causes him to moan hotly into your mouth. 
His hands travel up to the hem of your blouse, pushing the fabric up past your stomach before his hands go under. You moan at the contrast, rough hands, that have been through so much running along your unmarred body. He swallows what you give him, groaning happily at the effects he was causing.
You are in heaven. You never thought you would be here like this with Logan. You never thought you would be under him at his complete mercy. It makes a shiver travel down your spine, traveling right to your core that is a heated mess because of the man before you. To be with the man you have pined for is riveting, and you could cry that he seems to return those feelings.
You don’t know what triggers your mutation, but it is sudden. Your vision goes blurry, a strong aura surrounding you. It is overwhelming, a whimper bubbling from your throat as you see what is about to happen. Logan releases your lips with a grunt, looking at you intensely as you start to shake. You feel his rough hands cup your soft cheeks, stroking them gently. 
Your cheeks feel hot, your vision turning you into a horny mess. Your hands grip onto Logan’s chest trying to ground yourself to reality. It’s too much. Your visions rarely last long for they are just snippets of future events, but this was different. It was as if you were in a trance, and could feel everything he was doing to you. You don’t know if it is your heightened emotions, especially with him right on you. All you knew is that pleasure was present, and you were starting to fall apart. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” You can hear his demeanor change, worry laced in his tone.
“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but moan, unable to control yourself. “I can feel everything, Logan.”
There is a pause, hands still touching your face. A few beats later, he lets his right hand go down, only to stop at your thigh squeezing tightly. 
“Tell me what you see, baby.” 
The rumble in his voice intensifies everything, causing you to grip onto him tighter. “Oh God please don’t make me say it out loud.”
You try to look away, but his left hand shifts so it is grabbing your chin. He forces your head back up, bringing his face down to yours like he had in the classroom. His breath fans over your lips, taking in the way they move as sounds leave them. 
“I’m fucking you, aren’t I? Making you lose yourself on my cock? Is that what you are seeing?”
You can barely talk, too enthralled in your vision. You grab the hand that is on your thigh and bring it to the top of your black pants. Logan gets the idea and angles it so he can slide his hand into them. His fingers brush over the fabric, feeling the damp spot that has formed drastically. You hear him curse under his breath, the vibrations hitting your lips as they brush against one another without full pressure. 
“Oh sweetheart, you are so wet.” He murmurs, pulling his hand out to bring it up to his nose, inhaling deeply before releasing a sound so feral that you could sob. “And you smell so fucking good.” 
You can’t help but nod, not knowing how to respond. All you know is that you need him. Need him to take you on your bed and do whatever he wants to you. You’ll take anything he is willing to give you, for all you want is for him to make himself known to you. 
His hand had gone back down to your crotch, cupping your pussy through the material. “Does she want more attention?”
“Logan, please do something.” You choke, your mind steadily coming back to reality, but still not fully letting go. You start to grind down on his palm, desperate for anything he will give you, but he removes his hand, going to the back of your head to grip tightly.
Damn him!
“I know she deserves something, but do you? Do you deserve me after getting me so worked up like that?”
“Logan, I am begging.” You cry out in frustration, your nails digging into his chest causing him to groan lowly. “I want you. God, I’ve always wanted you so please take what’s yours!”
He is back on you, kissing you till the air in your lungs dissipates. He starts to kiss away from your swollen lips, kissing down to your neck. He nips at your pulse point, going up to your ear to give it a light lick before going back down. With every kiss, he takes a deep breath in, which only makes him get more aggressive. Soft kisses turn to an open mouth lather to nips that could have easily broken the skin.
“I don’t think you know what your scent does to me. It draws me in every time.” He bites down particularly hard at your collar bone, and you wouldn’t be surprised if blood had come to the surface. 
His hands come back up to the front of your blouse, carefully unbuttoning the garment before revealing your breasts that are almost spilling out of your bra. His hands mold over the cups, squeezing hard and slow as he makes his way to your sternum. 
He is being so gentle with you, a complete 180 from how you thought this was going to go. He was so rough with you in your head, fucking you until you couldn’t even say a word. This side of him was endearing, but you crave more from him.
“For someone so feral for me, you sure are taking your time.”
He bites the top of your left breast, making you gasp at the sudden pain. “I don’t think you are ready for that side of me, dollface.”
Your right hand goes to his head, taking a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. You know he wants to absolutely ravish you, and if it’s some convincing he needs, some convincing he is going to get. 
“When I said to take what’s yours, I meant it. I want you to make me beg until I’m dumb, so fucking do it.”
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Princess.”
His hands go under your top from the back, unclipping your bra before letting them resurface. He starts to yank your top off from the shoulders, only to smack your thigh that causes a light sting.
“Arch that back for me.”
You do as he says, allowing him to take the rest of your top off along with your bra. He flings them both across the room, only to do the same with his tank. You’ve seen his upper body plenty of times, as there would be instances in which he disregards it for a training session. But this? This was very different. It’s a different atmosphere, and rather than everyone getting an eye full of his muscular, hairy body, it is now for your eyes only. 
He’s looking down at you, pupils flared as he takes you in. You shiver as his palms stroke your tummy, slowly going up until they encompass your breasts. Your nipples pebble from the rough texture of his skin, and you can see it excites him. So much so that he takes the opportunity to take your nipples between his fingers and pulls them gently with a pinch. Your back bows off the mattress, adoring the pain he is providing, and let out a mewl as he lets go to run his thumbs over the tender peaks.
“You sound so good,” Logan murmurs. “I need to hear more.”
His right arm goes under your back to keep you up, holding you there as his mouth goes to your left breast. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking with his eyes still on you. Your cheeks flush, head tilting to the side to avoid looking at him. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. 
Whimpers slip from your mouth, his treatment of your breasts making you want to rub your thighs together to soothe the ache, but he keeps your legs open. He eventually does the same to your other breast, working to match the work he left on your other nipple: hard, and tainted red.
He lets up, sitting on his knees as he unbuttons your pants, hands sliding the material down your legs in earnest. He tosses your heels off before stripping away your bottoms, and he hums as he admires the black, lacy thong you adorn. 
“Fuck,” he snaps the elastic, eyes entranced. “You sure you didn’t see this coming earlier? Wearing something sexy like this?”
“They work better with my pants.” You huff, his fingers lightly running along your covered slit.
“Hmm, no wonder your ass looked so good today.” He grins. “But this pussy? I could play with her all day.”
He lowers himself, sliding off the bed only to bring you with him, your body gliding across the comforter with ease. He clutches onto your thighs, letting your legs rest in the crook of his elbows. He keeps his hold tight, bringing his lips down to kiss and suck on your thighs. You gasp at the aggressiveness, swearing you will see dark purple marks on you later. You moan at the idea, as it feels like he is finally claiming you; like are his to mark, to claim, to fuck, to love. 
He makes his way to your center, sniffing deeply before releasing a feral growl. He lets the tip of his tongue lightly drag from the bottom to the top of your heat, still fully covered by the damned thong. He flicks at your clit, a ghost of a touch that has you bucking your hips. And he draws back every single time. His self-control is impressive but frustrating all the same.
He starts to suck on it through the material, creating a bigger wet spot with his spit. The more he pushed his tongue against your folds, the more the material would rub just right against you. It made you clench, panting at how much he is teasing you. He pulls away, blowing on your sensitive spot which only makes you whine.
“Awe what is it?” He chuckles, the vibrations barely hitting where you need him. “You want my tongue to play with you?”
His hand lets go of your thigh, fingers tracing the fabric before pulling it to the side. “Lucky for you, I love to play.”
He goes right in, mouth over your bud as he consumes your very being. Your hands shoot to his hair, not prepared for the onslaught of pleasure he is delivering. The swirls he is landing on his target is mind numbing, a tangible pressure that makes you want to curl in on yourself. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, the sound vibrating right on your clit. It makes you buck your hips up, but his left arm presses you down to keep you secure. 
“I know you want more, but you are going to have to be patient. I’m not done tasting this sweet pussy. Fuck, you are so sweet.”
You feel one of his fingers near your hole, circling it teasingly before pushing in. His tongue is back on your nerves, mouthing covering it to add slight suction. Even with his big fingers, it’s not nearly enough. 
“Logan, please add another.” You say, emphasizing as you clench down on his single digit. 
He sucks a little harder, ripping a yelp from your throat. Still, he listens and inserts a second finger with the first. He goes in and out, drawing sighs from your lips as he builds you up. His mouth is going crazy, moving his lips with a vengeance. Your blood is hot, traveling down as your release starts to come to the surface.
You can’t stop clamping down on his fingers, your pussy having a mind of its own. He is pistoning them now, causing your fluids to make its way down your ass onto the comforter. The sounds coming from his handiwork edge you further, your release imminent. 
“Oh God, Logan! I’m cumming!” 
Big mistake on your part.
He pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A smug look appears on his face, and you have the urge to shove his face back into your aching cunt.
“Your first time cumming with me will be on my cock, sweetheart.”
He pulls your thong down your legs and moves you back to the front of the bed. He stands before you, making light work of removing his belt from the loops of his jeans. His jeans are next, pulling them down with his briefs. 
You don’t know what you expected. You weren’t surprised with how well endowed he was, not with the way he is built. But to see it in person is so much different from your imagination. The details that your mind didn’t conjure up, especially the vein that starts from his lower stomach to the tip of his cock. It makes you salivate, wanting to run your tongue along it. 
“You like what you see, darlin’?” He noticed you staring, but you have no shame. Not anymore.
“Yeah, want it in my mouth so bad.”
He walks over to you, his cock in your face. His hand goes to your head, stroking the baby hairs that are starting to stick to your temple. “As much as I would love that, I am dying to give you the fucking you deserve, sweetheart. However…” he brings your head up closer to his cock, your lips not even an inch away. “How about you get it nice and wet for me.”
You don’t have to be told twice. You work up a good amount of spit, letting it drip from your mouth onto his hard cock. You start to lick at the sides, spreading your saliva all over until he is covered. You are basically making out with his dick, your lips and tongue moving like you had when you were kissing him earlier. It isn’t until you get to that vein of his that you start to go wild, licking it up and down. 
Logan is groaning deeply, and pulls your head back, a string of saliva connecting before breaking apart. You hear him curse under his breath before crawling back onto the bed, his hands holding your face as he brings his lips to you. His kisses are slow this time, letting it sink in that this is happening; that you two are about to be connected. 
“You did such a good job. You are such a good girl.” He murmurs against your lips before sitting up. 
His dick is now sitting heavy on your mound, and the weight of it feels delicious. He taps it against your clit a few times, your hips thrusting up in kind. 
“You ready for me, sweetheart?” He lets his cock rut into your folds, thrusting up into your clit. “I think that sweet thing of yours is.”
“Give it to me, Lo. I need you so bad it hurts.” 
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take that pain away.” He promises.
And as promised, he places the tip right at your aching hole and pushes in slowly. Your jaw slacks, the pressure as he continues his descent much more intense than you anticipated. It’s been so long since you’ve given yourself to someone. It all feels new, and you are thankful; thankful that it's with him.
He is fully seated in you, and you can only describe it as euphoric. With the way he sits heavy in your cunt, filling you up completely, you can honestly say that this was meant to happen. Logan was meant to be with you in every single possible way imaginable. It’s the only explanation.
“How does it feel, baby?” Logan asks, hands rubbing up and down your thighs soothingly. 
“It feels,” you whimper, gripping down on him. “It feels so good, Lo.”
“Yeah? My cock makin’ you feel good, doll?” He groans, clearly being affected by your behavior. 
Before you can mutter a pathetic answer, your brain turning to mush, he shifts back. His cock slides out until the mushroom head is at your entrance, and then he slams back in; hard and slow. 
The constant back and forth of his cock has you shaking, his hard thrust knocking the air out of your lungs and the slow thrusts feeling oh so good. And with the way he is watching you, his face mimicking yours as he receives his own pleasure, is sending zaps of electricity to your cunt. It makes you grasp onto him hard as he gets you more worked up.
Logan sits up straighter, grabbing your right leg and bringing it up to his shoulder. His left hand keeps it steady as he speeds up slightly and presses gentle kisses to your ankle in the process. It lets him go deeper, kissing your cervix every time it goes in. The pressure feels incredible, and the more he speeds up, the more your cunt starts to spasm out of control. 
“That’s it, baby. You are taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me.” He growls out, biting your ankle. 
“God yes, Logan! I’m yours!” You cry out, him and his cock making you utterly delirious. “You were made for my pussy!”
“Fuck, you got a mouth on you.” He chides, his right hand going to your right breast.
He is squeezing your tit so tight; his hips are on autopilot with how fast he is taking you. Your hands don’t know where to go, going from gripping the fabric below to holding onto his wrist. He is putting you into a completely fucked out state, and you can’t get enough of that treatment. 
You can tell you are on the precipice of cumming. You are clenching on and off rapidly, no longer in control of your muscles. The sounds coming from your coupling, wet smacking echoes that are music to your ears. You can feel the telltale sensation of being overwhelmed, and you know you are now on the track of no return. 
“Logan, baby, I’m gonna cum!”
He snarls at you, a crazed look in his eyes as he slams into you. He lets go of your tit to grab your chin, keeping your eyes on his. “Do it, darlin’. Cum around my cock.”
You are over the edge in seconds, a silent scream taking over as you tremble and quake. Your pussy is convulsing like crazy, small gushes of liquid coming out. You see Logan look down at where you two are connected, and he is grinning like crazy.
“What a fucking sight. There isn’t one thing about you that isn’t pretty.”
You could sob at his words, especially with how overstimulated you are becoming. You work his cock, wanting him to cum inside of you. 
“Give me your cum, Logan. Fill me until I’m dripping.”
Your words must have triggered something because next thing you know he has let go of your leg and face and is falling onto his forearms with his mouth landing on yours. You hear the sound of his claws, completely unsheathed from his skin, causing him to bellow into your mouth, rutting like a madman which causes cum to leak out from your hole onto the bedding. 
He slows down, milking out the rest of his spend before stopping all together. He lets go of your lips gasping, face buried in your shoulder as he tries to calm down. Your hands go to his back, massaging the taut muscles as he shakes. 
“Fuck, Logan,” you sigh, catching your breath as you come back to earth. You feel so relaxed, even with your guts feeling completely rearranged.
You hear his claws sink back into his skin, and it is then that he pulls out, falling to the other side of the bed. His chest is going up and down with every heavy breath, and you can’t help but admire him like this. 
He turns his head over to you, his hand coming to grab the hand by your side. “C’mere, sweetheart.”
You make it over into his side, head laying on his chest as you both bask in the post-sex glow. You can’t help but smile at this turn of events, not expecting to have been in this position with Logan. But here you are, laying on his chest with his arms around you. 
You notice something in your peripherals and see splintering from the headboard of your bed. There are six holes in the wood, and it sends you into a laughing fit, a euphoric glaze covering your entire body. 
“What’s so funny?” He asks gruffly, pulling you into side as you continue to laugh.
“Your claws pierced my headboard.”
You see him glance back, and you see him sigh, relaxing more into the mattress. “I’ll fix it up for you, darlin’. I’m sorry about that.”
“No need to say sorry.” You snuggle your face into his skin, breathing in his natural musk as you relax more into him. “I just can’t believe we did that, but I’m glad it did.”
“I can say the same.” He murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “Seriously, I gotta know, did you see this coming?”
You shift up, going to lay your arms across his chest only for you to rest on them. You look into his eyes and the need in them is still there, but not in the way they were before. They were searching, looking for any confirmation that what you both just did truly meant more. It makes him look vulnerable, something he rarely shows. It makes you smile at the prospect of him opening up even more. 
“Not until today. It’s strange now that I think about it.”
“And why is that?”
“I never saw you coming, I guess. Even when it is clear as day how you felt about me, I never got anything that told me it was real. I didn’t want to potentially screw anything up between us.”
He hums, a look of contemplation on his face before taking a hand and rubbing his face, a long sigh coming out in the process. “I suppose that’s my fault.”
You can’t help but look confused. His fault? “Why do you say that?”
“I haven’t been fully honest, but ever since I came here, no matter how welcomed and appreciated I am here, I have contemplated leaving.” His hand leaves his face to go behind your neck, lightly scratching the skin at the nape before continuing. “I’ve been alone for a long time. Having a family has never been in the books for me. It is easier to not let people in.”
“So, that’s why I couldn’t see you coming. You hadn’t made up your mind?”
“It’s possible, but it’s just a theory.”
“But, if that’s the case, have you made your mind up?” You start rubbing his chest with your palm, feeling his heart pulse slowly. You are confident you know the answer now, but you want to hear him say it.
He grunts in laughter, shaking his head slightly before letting his fingers curl around the back of your neck. “I think you know the answer, princess. But if you really want to know, come up here.”
You push yourself from him, moving so you are straddling his torso. He brings his hands to your face once more, pulling you down so you are face to face with him. He kisses you, slowly initiating intimacy with his lips. He isn’t saying anything, but you can feel what he is saying through the act alone. 
“I can’t close myself off from you,” he says between kisses. “And I don’t want to. Especially if you’ll have me.”
“I think you already know the answer to that, Lo.”
“Still, I wanna hear you say it.”
You pull away so you can look into his eyes, giving him all the sincerity you can muster. “I love you, and I want you to stand by me.”
He smiles teeth and all, and pulls you back down, kissing all over your face causing you to squeal. “Hmm I love you too, sweetheart. Always have.”
You both stay like that for a while, basking in each other's company in post-coital ecstasy by continuing to taste one another. Another thought came over you, and you can’t help but laugh again.
“If I had known sex would make you like this, I would have made a move a long time ago.” Logan jokes, breathing them in. 
“I’m sorry, but I’m laughing because it took me taking your cigars hostage to do it.”
Logan throws his head back, chuckling at what you presume is the same thing you are laughing about.
“Speaking of those cigars, can you grab them for me?”
You perk up, pushing away from him to lean over to your side of the bed. Your fingers stretch for the book, getting a grasp on it before getting settled back with Logan. He pulls you in quickly, hurdling you into his side. You see he has his lighter ready, which he must have grabbed while you were getting his cigars.
“You gonna smoke one?”
He hums, taking one out. “I only smoke these on special occasions. I think this qualifies.”
He carefully unsheathes a claw, cutting the end before it sinks back under his skin. He flickers the lighter, letting the bright flame linger on the end to get a good burn going. He then lays back, pulling you even closer into his side, before taking his first puff. 
You smile, laying your head against him as you let your eyes drift closed. You feel yourself drifting away, the smell of his cigar and the sound of his pulse lulling you to a deep sleep; a sleep with dreams that you hope feel like déjà vu in the near future.
4K notes · View notes
ozzgin · 1 year ago
Note
I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol
If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!
Best wishes
-🌟
I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)
Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)
Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
TW: violence
(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)
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"Fantastic show tonight!"
The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.
"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 
"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."
You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 
Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.
Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.
So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.
"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.
That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.
When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 
You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.
Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:
"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"
You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 
"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"
As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.
"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.
"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 
As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.
You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 
"Should we leave?"
You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.
"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."
He grins at your last statement.
"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"
You nod.
"Then let's get you undressed, miss."
Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 
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fairyhaos · 24 days ago
Text
❖ marshmallow smile // joshua hong
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joshua x gn!reader, 1.8k+ words
tags: non-idol au, fluff, food mention, yn is a Mess, shua blushes very easily, absolutely cheesy romcom-style trope in this fic, basically shua pretends someone bought yn a drink but surprise!! it was him!!
warnings: 1 swear word
notes: silly soft flustered joshua who rarely consciously flirts but makes an exception for you :((( my beloved. happy shua day <3
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“Here, this is a hot chocolate for you from the guy across the cafe.”
It's been a particularly horrible day, that day. Not because of anything specific, but just because sometimes days are like that. Days where the weather is terrible, your mood is terrible, work is terrible, and overall everything is just kind of… shit. 
Seven o'clock in the evening finds you in a cafe: the same cafe you've been in for four hours, clocking in some unwanted overtime because some idiot on your team managed to permanently delete half the spreadsheet you've been updating for weeks and now you have to scramble to fix it in two days before the annual overview meeting is conducted to all of your bosses. 
You’re exhausted, on the verge of a meltdown, and almost about to burst into tears when the gentle, male voice had spoken, and you look up just as a hand slides a steaming mug onto your table.
This man—he’s absolutely gorgeous, actually, but you don’t get to register it fully because the moment you look up, he suddenly dashes away to the other end of the cafe, bumping into empty tables before sitting down nonchalantly in one of the booths all the way on the other side, crossing his legs and waving, like nothing had happened.
“Hi,” he says, all cool and suave, even as he’s still waving. “I’m the guy from across the cafe.”
You blink, and then the pieces of his charade fall into place and you laugh, flattered. 
“Well, thank you very much,” you say, and then close your laptop, looking down at the hot chocolate on your table. The whipped cream is piled high, and the mini marshmallows are the pink kind. It’s very cute. “That’s very kind of you.” You smile, taking a sip. “I’ll also be sure to thank the handsome server who brought me my drink.”
The man’s smile widens, pleased. “I hope you don’t think the server was more handsome than me, though.”
You hum, tilting your head. “I’m not sure. Maybe if you come over here, I’ll be able to see you properly and make a real judgement.”
The man’s eyes light up, and he makes his way over to you, and—it’s like the whole world stops spinning. You’d already known he was handsome, and he’s been sitting on the other side of the cafe while talking to you, but it’s a whole other thing to be seeing him up close.
You’re now face-to-face with the prettiest person you’ve ever seen, with pretty brown eyes and a pretty lips that are pulled into a devastatingly pretty smile, and you have to fight a blush as he claims the seat opposite you at the table.
“Hi,” he says again, and laughs softly when you can’t quite meet his gaze, shy. 
“Hello,” you say, looking up briefly and feeling your face instantly heat up. What earlier confidence you’d had when calling him over has mysteriously disappeared, flustered in the face of this man’s handsomeness.
He laughs again, obviously finding you endearing as you look away, avoiding his gaze. And then he ducks his head down until he finds your eyes again before slowly straightening up, smiling when your gaze stays on him. “There we go,” he says softly. “Your eyes are so pretty. Please don’t look away.”
You blink rapidly, still very pink in the face. “Thank you.”
The man smiles. “My name’s Joshua,” he says, inclining his head in greeting. “May I have your name?”
Somehow, the oddly formal nature of Joshua’s question helps you shake some of your shyness, and you smile back at him, taking a sip from your hot chocolate. It’s sweet.
“I suppose you may,” you say, lightly teasing. “It’s Y/N.”
And then you hold out your hand for him to shake, playing up the formal greeting, and Joshua laughs, taking it in his own, his touch warm and grounding. You kind of want to hold his hand forever.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Joshua says. Disappointingly, his fingers fall away from your own almost instantly, and he gestures to the mug in front of you. “I hope you like the hot chocolate. I was actually, um, watching you from across the cafe, and you looked quite stressed, and so I wanted to give you the drink.”
“Oh.” His words have you melting a little, and he looks so adorable with his shining eyes and that shy smile on his face, as if nervous about this whole exchange. “Thank you. I was having a bit of a bad day, so this really helps.” You look down at the hot chocolate in mild wonder. “I thought this kind of thing only happened to main characters in rom coms.”
Joshua rubs the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed even as he laughs slightly, eyes crinkling. 
“I don’t really do things like this, normally,” he admits. “I’m kind of out of my depth here with this whole… flirting thing. But I thought you were cute, and you were working so hard, and I wanted to just give you something sweet to cheer you on.”
He thought you were cute. Despite his admission that he’s “out of his depth” here, you think he’s actually doing very well in this flirting. Devastatingly so.
Things like this just don’t happen to you. You’re not the type to have handsome men giving you hot chocolate at seven in the evening because they think you’re cute, but here you are, and Joshua’s smiling shyly even as his eyes glow, and he’s so pretty and this entire thing feels like something out of a dream.
“Your presence is sweeter than any drink could be,” you blurt out, and then promptly turn the shade of a beetroot, burying your face onto the top of your laptop lid. 
You can practically hear Joshua’s stunned silence, and then he laughs.
“Oh, please look up,” he says, when you still keep your face firmly buried in the laptop. “That’s the most adorable compliment I’ve ever gotten, seriously. You’re really—you’re really lovely, Y/N.”
“I’m also really embarrassed,” you say, muffled. “That was—I’m so sorry. I’m really bad at flirting. That was so weird.”
Joshua laughs again, and then there’s a light tap on the top of your head, and you lift your head slightly. Joshua takes the opportunity to reach over and lift your chin up with the tips of his fingers, smiling when you finally make eye contact with him again.
He’s blushing, you realise faintly. His fingers are warm on your face, and his cheeks are dusted pink. You did that to him.
“It wasn’t weird,” he assures. “I told you, I’m really bad at this whole thing too. But I came over here because I liked you, so it would be strange for me to dislike the idea of you liking me too.”
Your eyes widen. “You like me?”
Joshua scrunches his nose slightly, looking embarrassed again. He retracts his hand, and again, you miss the warmth of his touch. “This isn’t my first time seeing you,” he confesses. “You come here every Wednesday after work, don’t you? I’m always here around that time as well, and you’re always so bright and bubbly with your friends, and I just—well, like I said, I found you really cute.”
“Oh.” Joshua really is so, so sweet. “I’m sorry I haven’t ever talked to you before, then. Wow.” And then you smile. “But if it’s any consolation, I really do think you’re cute, too.”
Joshua’s whole face seems to glow as his eyes crinkle into crescents and he smiles widely. He’s still blushing prettily, and that makes you smile too, mesmerised by how someone who looks like him actually exists.
“Okay, lovebirds, wrap it up,” a voice suddenly says, and you jump, tearing your gaze away from Joshua, flustered. At the front of the cafe, there’s a barista wiping down the coffee machines. He stops what he's doing, leaning against the counter, watching you both amusedly. His name tag, Yoon Jeonghan, glints in the lights. “We’re closing up soon. You guys have to go.”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” you call back, and quickly drink the last of the hot chocolate that Joshua gave you, before beginning to put your things back in your back. The spreadsheet isn’t fully finished, but oh well. You can get someone else to do it.
“Sorry, I probably distracted you,” Joshua says apologetically, as you put on your coat and shoulder your bag. He picks up your empty mug for you, ready to walk to the counter and give it back to the barista. “Did you manage to finish your work?”
You shake your head, and the two of you make your way out of the cafe. “No, but it’s okay,” you assure him. “I’ve been working on it for hours. I’ll get someone else to finish it off.”
Joshua nods and hands the mug back to the barista, who accepts it with a mischievous grin.
“Have a nice night, lovebugs,” the barista, Jeonghan, says, eyes twinkling. It makes Joshua roll his eyes, exasperated and benevolent at the same time, like he was used to such teasing. He bids Jeonghan goodnight and then leads you out of the cafe, opening the door for you and then following you out afterwards, until you’re both standing out on the empty street.
“A friend of mine, unfortunately,” Joshua says, as a way of explaining Jeonghan’s familiarity. “I may have, um, mentioned you to him, before. Once or twice.”
He’s being bashful again, awkward and shy in revealing his liking for you, and goodness, you’re finding him more and more endearing with each passing second you spend in his presence.
“Cute,” you say, the word slipping out before you can stop it. Joshua’s eyes widen, surprised, but like hell are you taking it back, because it’s true. “You’re really cute,” you laugh. “I… wow. Yeah. I think you’re really cute and just. Thank you, for spending time with me. This was really nice.”
Joshua’s eyes are still wide, and he swallows. 
“Okay,” he says, “I really, really don’t normally do this, but could I have your number? You’re just so nice and so pretty and I want to get to know you more, if that’s okay. You can say no, of course, and that’s totally fine, but if you’d like to, then—”
“Yes,” you cut off his rambling with a smile, and hold out a hand for his phone. “I’d like to. Of course I’ll give you my number.”
Your day did not start well at all. It’s been miserable, and exhausting, and frankly the worst day you’ve had in a while—but then a mug of hot chocolate had slid onto your table in a coffee shop, and you’d started to make conversation with the prettiest guy in the world, and now, now, now…
Now, Joshua beams at you, soft as marshmallow and sweet as chocolate, and well. You have to admit that your day has ended in the best possible way.
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fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit
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illbegottenfaith · 19 days ago
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...and a bruise underneath
you can't help becoming distant as your relationship with theo starts feeling like an open wound (theo nott x reader)
Part 1 | Part 2
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a/n - idek what this is anymore 😭 but I will say writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet every five minutes 🙈🙈🤭 this fic may or may not have been inspired by how crap my magnesium intake is :( college resumes in like a week for me and I get very cranky on less than 6 hours of sleep (i am a very light sleeper!!!) chat am I cooked
tropes/warnings - angst, happy ending (yayyy), suggestive but not explicit content, fluff, theo being befuddled, bamboozled, astonished, even; wholesome bickering
word count - 2.2k
taglist (everyone who asked to be tagged for part 2!) - @justaproudperson @pumpkinchee @lorenzozurzolocanruinmylife @smithieandy @augiemyers79
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Once Theo returned from his trip, you somehow managed to minimise the little time you spent together, making barely convincing, half-baked excuses whenever you could. Still, he never commented on it. Perhaps he would have if he actually cared. You weren't sure if you were shutting him out to punish him or yourself.
Still, even you couldn't get out of spending time with your boyfriend entirely, which was how the two of you ended up in your dorm on a Thursday afternoon, working through your homework. You were sitting propped up by your numerous cushions, proof-reading an essay while Theo leaned against on the bed posts at the foot of your bed, reading a Potions book to help with his project.
The two of you worked in silence, equally absorbed in your work - or so you assumed until you heard Theo close his book and set it aside. Without warning, he shifted towards you, and before you could flinch or put more distance between you, his arms were encircling your waist and his head was resting on your abdomen.
You froze. This was the closest he had been since before the trip. You weren't sure if you had even hugged him when he returned.
You shoved down the stab of amusement in your gut. Theo was hardly the playful kind, but every once in a while, when your schedules allowed for it, he would be in a good enough mood to fool around with you in a manner that did justice to the expression. The two of you could lose entire afternoons to whispered giggles, frisky hands, and smothering kisses. Even now, your hand twitched with the instinct to comb through his soft, silky curls.
But while you normally found it endearing, today it was irritating, because you were in a fight with him, albeit one-sided.
"What...are you doing?" you asked in a bored monotone.
He shifted his head like he was getting comfortable. "Taking a nap."
You refused to pull your eyes away from your essay when Theo failed to elaborate. "With me?"
Theo sighed, like he thought you were being purposely difficult. "Yes, you."
Too thrown off to keep up the act, you finally looked up, watching the tiny shadows his long eyelashes cast against his face tanned from one too many summer Quidditch practices. "Why?"
He cracked an eye open and smiled lazily at you, half-drowsy. It wasn't fair how seductive his perpetual bedroom eyes typically were, let alone when they were laced with actual exhaustion. Despite yourself, you felt a flicker of satisfaction over being the only one who got to see him like this - uninhibited and free.
The satisfaction didn't last long. Without any warning, Theo plucked your essay out of your hand, casting it aside as he sat up with a teasing glint in his eye.
"Why? Would you prefer I take a nap with Mattheo?"
He was so close, you were sure he could hear your heart racing. Your mouth went dry. Days of subtly dodging his kisses or making excuses to sit away from him had gone down the drain. The thing about Theo's gaze was that it carried an intensity that demanded answers and explanations. Even as your pulse flickered under his relentless stare, you rolled your eyes without any real heat. "No, of course n-"
Theo leaned in, backing you up against your headboard. Your hands clenched in your sheets restlessly, aching to reach out to him. You struggled to focus on the words coming out of his mouth, dizzy with the proximity. "Is this your way of getting me to sleep with my best friend?"
You could feel it - your face was fully scarlet by now. Honestly, how on earth were you meant to come off calm and collected with a face that gave you away at the drop of a hat?
You shivered as he ran a hand up the skin exposed by your top riding up. You finally caved, settling your hands on his collar. "You're a real comedian, you know that?" you muttered, trying and failing to play it cool as your hands slithered into his hair, dragging him closer.
Theo obliged, hovering over you, broad-shouldered, not half the mess you were underneath him. Not yet, at least. "Next you'll be telling me you want to watch, you little perv."
Your lips twisted into a poorly suppressed smile. "It's why you love me."
"Your voyeuristic tendencies?"
You hummed as his lips finally connected to your pulse. As one of his hands started creeping up your ribcage, you were starting to remember why you put up with him. "Exactly."
You didn't hear what he had to say after that, blissfully distracted by the exhilarating feeling of his skin on yours.
"Cara..." Theo sighed, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear.
"Hmm?"
All too frustratingly soon, he pulled his hands away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. You fought the overwhelming urge to cry. Moments like these proved that he was soft and pliant underneath that rough exterior. As he leaned back, you tenderly brushed back a lock of hair falling in his eyes. Why couldn’t he love you the way you loved him?
"Do you want to tell me why you've been freezing me out?"
The giddy feeling in your stomach died almost immediately. Maybe he wasn't as oblivious as you had thought. Your teeth dug into your swollen bottom lip. You hadn't expected a confrontation, especially not half-naked, though you were beginning to realise it was an oversight on your part. The direct person that he was, Theo was never one for playing games or beating around the bush. You felt your head start to pound, suddenly feeling far too exposed in more ways than one. You distractedly started rebuttoning your shirt before he stopped you.
"Tesoro..." he prompted softly. You heard the firm message hidden in his tone - no more deflecting. You bit the inside of your cheek, gaze fixed on the strong, slender fingers covering yours. It was the closest you had gotten to holding hands.
You felt the absurd urge to laugh. It was laughable, wasn't it? How tragically ironic the whole thing was? You had liked that Theo was low maintenance, but somewhere along the way you decided that low maintenance wasn't enough for you.
You shook your head, finally accepting defeat. How long did you think you could keep up the charade? How long did you think you could tolerate this misery? Indefinitely? Of course not. As soon as you had watched him step off the carriage, still as fresh-faced and only a little quieter than usual, you had known - you were going to have to tell them, and after one awkward conversation, the two of you would part ways, and he would fade into obscurity over the years, only to be remembered as some guy you had dated when you hadn't known any better.
This was it. The beginning of the end.
"Why didn't you tell me about Katherine?"
You thought saying that would be much harder than it was. But then again, you had nothing to lose - not that you ever had anything to lose.
Theo raised his eyebrows slightly. "Ka-"
"Katherine Sawyer," you hissed. After weeks of avoiding bringing it up, it suddenly felt unbearable, having to wait one moment longer for the answer. "You know, the one you've been cosying up with every other night?"
"I only know one Katherine," Theo started irritably. "Just the one. And I haven't spoken to her since we wrapped up our Transfiguration project before I left for my trip. You remember, the one worth half our grade?"
"...oh." Oh, indeed.
"This isn't like you, Y/N," Theo pressed. "You've never cared about who I talk to. You've always trusted me."
The implication stung. "I don't care who you talk to," you protested. "I still trust you."
And it was true - you had only very briefly, if at all, entertained the idea of Theo having an affair. Even then, it was a notion borne of weeks of exhaustion from catering to your aconite's every little need. But it had been the spark for your brooding resentment.
"I just wish you had told me about her or mentioned her some time. It feels - " Your breath caught. "It felt like you were keeping secrets from me."
Theo's jaw ticked. He let out an exasperated sigh.
"Then why didn't you just ask me?"
You dropped your eyes.
"Dunno. Just...didn't want you to get mad."
His eyebrows disappeared into his hair.
"Didn't want me to get mad?" Theo echoed incredulously. "Honestly, L/N," he said sharply, looking more than a little peeved, "what did you think I was going to do?"
"I don't know," you wailed, closer to tears than ever, "break up with me?"
Theo opened his mouth to respond before closing it again. He furrowed his brow, mouthing indecipherable half-words as if trying very hard to wrap his head around what you were saying. Then, without warning, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you.
"Right," he finally said, with the air of someone washing their hands of some uselessly challenging task. You could barely focus on his words with the thrill running under your skin. Theo didn't mind being hugged - it was one of the frills he indulged you in - but he wasn't exactly the hugging type. "Next time something's bothering you, I want you to stop what you're doing and come find me."
You twisted your head out of his chest with some difficulty. "What if you're-"
"No - no exceptions," he continued, tightening his hold around you. "No letting it spiral into - whatever this was-"
"So," you interrupted shakily, "you're not breaking up with me?"
Theo glanced down at you, looking like he was going to have a coronary.
"No," he said, with some effort, staring at you like you'd grown a third head. "I'm not." He tilted his head, still squinting at you. "Are you sure you've been growing your aconite properly? It seems like it's been screwing with your head."
"Hey," you scowled, wriggling out of his grasp and giving him a dirty look. "I'll have you know Professor Sprout thinks my mandrakes are -"
But you never got to what Professor Sprout thought about your mandrakes, because you had spotted a familiar teasing glint in Theo's eye.
"About time you started taking it out on me," he laughed, blocking your spirited yet ineffective efforts in shoving him off your bed. You flopped onto your pillows once you gave up, flushed with bedraggled hair. Served you right for dating a 200-pound brute of a guy. "I was starting to think you were going to keep that all bottled up forever."
"Yeah?" you panted, embarrassingly out of breath. "Just you wait. I'm not...finished. It's going to be two more weeks of...of this...once I-"
"- catch your breath, darling?"
You glared at him. Theo could make anything sound salacious while looking perfectly innocent, a trait that was especially inconvenient during some of your shared lessons. You debated giving him the finger, but that would only further amuse him.
Besides, you were feeling very comfortable lying on your mountain of pillows and cushions. You closed your eyes for just a minute. "Dead man walking, Nott," you mumbled, pushing back the hair that had plastered to your forehead.
You opened your eyes when you felt him rest his head on your abdomen once again, his arms coming up around your hips.
"I'm serious about the nap, though," Theo said. "Jet lag is a bitch and Mattheo's going to take the piss out of me if I'm too tired to show up for practice."
You softly carded your fingers through his hair, your fingernails barely grazing his scalp. "Yeah, yeah, sure, you're sleepy. You're always sleepy." You tapped his face insistently as he already looked halfway to dozing off. "You realise that?"
"'M not," he mumbled out the corner of his mouth, relaxing under your touch. "It's the jet lag."
You rolled your eyes. "Yes, you are. All I have to do is get you to stop thinking for two minutes and you'll nod right off, jet-lagged or not. It's because you're always drinking that damn coffee at all hours of the night." Your hair-raking turned somewhat fastidious. "What's your magnesium intake like?"
Theo huffed. "You're so bossy, you know that?"
"Avocado, spinach, almonds, quinoa-"
"I eat plenty o-"
" - less coffee -"
"I like the taste!"
"You could always take decaf."
Theo choked, eyes flying open.
"You take that back."
You eyed him sternly but relented. He couldn't help his Italian roots. "Well, you still need enough magnesium to get a proper night's rest-"
Theo groaned, burying his face into your stomach once again.
"Enough with the magnesium." He sucked in a breath between his teeth, grumbling to himself. "Merlin, I forgot how bothersome you could be."
"It's not my fault you need someone to bully you into taking care of yourself," you retorted.
"Whatever," Theo muttered, and it was something so comfortingly familiar you couldn't hold back a smile.
"Honestly...you and your...fucking magnesium..."
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mixingandmelting · 2 months ago
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hello! may i request for how would the batboys be with an "i'll eat only if you eat too" type of s/o? thank you <3
A/N: I’m not familiar with that trope so I’m assuming it’s the tiktok couple trend? if I interpreted wrong, let me know 😔
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Dick: 
As someone who also values the “together” part between couples, it always warms his heart when you insist on eating together. He knows it’s your way of showing how you care for him and his well being as he’s being loved as himself. Not as Nightwing. Not as his civilian persona. If the reverse were to occur, he definitely wouldn’t be able to eat as he’d be feeling that he's being negligent and inconsiderate of you. It’s how he develops the habit to always eat with you whether it’s getting back on time to eat something you cooked or getting take out for two. He always wants to do things with you no matter what it is so he can always be with you and doesn’t want you to ever think you’re lacking or not doing enough. In fact, to him, the way you are is more than enough. You being you was what had him fall head-over-heels for you from the start and he’ll honestly die with a broken heart if you try changing because of him. 
Jason:
Surprising enough, he also understands and appreciates the sentiment. To be fair, when he was caught by Bats after his failed attempt in stealing the tires from the Batmobile, he was treated to a meal at some diner before getting taken in. The appreciation of sharing a meal didn’t come back once he was revived until meeting the Outlaws which then was cemented when he met and envisioned his future with you in it. The first time he got you a meal and not himself was his last as it had led to an argument between the two of you. When you reveal you wanted to make sure he’s also caring for himself, it made him think how he’s not going to be able to find another person who’ll treasure him like you. He does acknowledge that his family cares for him despite their differences, but it won’t match with how his heart speeds up from how you look out for him. Since then, he’s been eating most of his meals with you as he finds food tasting better when he’s with you rather than eating alone like usual. 
Tim:
He is very much aware that he can’t argue against you when it comes to you telling him you’re eating only if he eats. With the number of times you caught him going through energy drinks including the other day when he was on his third can of Celsius, even he admits his diet isn’t exactly healthy. So, it won’t help his case when, at rare moments, he complains about you saying that only to get shot back with your fears and concerns for his health. In those moments, he gets sheepish and gives in from the justification of your argument, ordering something for himself and you when stopping by at a drive-through or pulling himself from his work to head to the table where you set a plate in front of you and him. Most of the time, you aren’t saying that line as he’s already planning ten-steps ahead on where and what the two of you will eat (of course with consideration of your taste) in an attempt to get you to stay with him longer. 
Duke:
He gets where you’re coming from but the reason he pushes back is because he wants to show that he’s dependable and capable of caring for both you and himself. If he’s hungry, he’s going to get himself while asking you if you want something as well. If you aren’t hungry, he gets sneaky and buys something small knowing you’ll want a snack or drink later. When it comes to you and you’re hungry while he isn’t, you are his priority and he’s going to make sure you get fed. He ends up consoling you when he sees the guilt and worry in your eyes, letting himself take a bite of whatever you’re having or a sip. He stops there though, which you have no choice to begrudgingly accept as he promises to go get something if he gets hungry. It’s endearing and he always cracks a smile whenever you tell him that, getting fuzzy from how tender you are to him.
Damian:
He’s the one who won’t get it. It always leads to you two fighting whenever you get stubborn and refuse to eat unless he does. No matter who he had asked so far from Dick to even Tim of all people, he still doesn’t get it. He’s not hungry. You are. So you’re the one who should be eating, why do you need him to eat with you when you’re old enough to feed yourself? There’s nothing hard; it’s pure logic. When you try to explain food tastes better when it’s shared, it never goes well as he simply points out nothing is being done to the food when it’s being shared except for the portion getting smaller. That’s how arguments always go along with the same ending where you’d get fed up and simply stuff his mouth. Cue his expression morphing from offended to reluctant acceptance as he’s awarded with either a grin or blush from you, both equally lovable and adorable. By the time the food is gone, he has been eating as if he’s disgruntled when he’s actually enjoying sharing a meal with you.
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suugarbabe · 1 year ago
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Unexpected | m.r x reader
prompt: Hii! How are you? This is my first time sending an ask and I just wanted to say that I love your writings! May I ask for a enemies to lovers with Mattheo Riddle? The reader is from the golden trio and they get into an argument with a lot of chemistry and tension. Thank you and I'm sorry for my bad english.
maybe enemies to lovers, like they hate each other and then realize that they are soulmates and then have to figure out what to do. some angst but ends i fluff please 
word count: ~3.8k
warnings: slight angst feeling, fluff, e2l, soulmate trope, some heavy petting
an: so there's no argument like the prompt asks (sorry) but when I started writing it just kind of flowed out this way so hopefully it's still okay.
“Go on, show us again,” Ron Weasley was shaking a turkey leg in your general direction, asking to see the words that appeared on your arm this morning. In the wizarding world, on the day you were going to properly meet your soulmate, the first sentence they speak to you, excluding their name, will appear on your forearm in their handwriting. 
It was incredibly annoying to you that Ron and Hermione got this mess out of the way the first day on the bloody train. To your and Harry’s amusement, neither were originally excited about the match, but after the chaos that ensued for the four of you by the end of that year they were inseparable. Nothing brings two people closer than tragedy. 
Things got even more frustrating for you when Harry and Ginny realized they were soulmates, leaving you the lone wolf in your foursome. Entering your sixth year this year you were hopeful that maybe you would finally be able to find out who your soulmate was, roughly three fourths of those leave Hogwarts knowing who they’re intended to be with, and you would rather Avada Kadavera yourself then leave your seventh year soulmateless. 
You grabbed the sleeve of your jumper, tugging it up to your elbow, sticking your arm out in the middle of the table for your three friends to view. There on your arm read a singular sentence, do I intimidate you, love?
Hermione sat back on the bench, “His handwriting really is awful, whoever he is.” You scoffed at your friend, “Not exactly my biggest concern, Mione. More worried about why he thinks he would intimidate me? Who would even think that? By this point in our school life you’d think any of us were more intimidating than the majority of the student body.” 
“Yeah, except Slytherin,” Harry snorted, Ron following with his own round of laughter. But you weren’t laughing, you were looking at Hermione who was sporting the same grimace and worried eyes that you were sure your face looked like. 
Harry and Ron looked at each other, then looked at the two of you. “It was a joke, y/n/n,” Harry tried to ease the tension that was building. “Yeah, I mean, y’don't really think your soulmate might be…one of them,” Ron was anything but subtle with his tone of disgust, as well as his entire body turning around to face the Slytherin table. 
Ron’s actions didn’t go unnoticed by a particular group of Slytherin boys. “Staring problem, Weasley? Got a crush?” Malfoy shouted across the dining hall, earning laughs and teasing hollars from his friends. 
“Oi, Malfoy, got a present for you,” you stuck your hand in your school bag, pretending to roam around before pulling your hand back out and lifting it high in the air, giving Malfoy the middle finger. His face immediately turned into a scowl. The boy next to him, however, pretended to catch your gesture in the air and put it in his pocket, winking at you in the process. 
You rolled your eyes, turning to Hermione who had a look of disgust on her face, “Riddle’s ego really is massive isn't it.” All three of your friends' heads began to nod. “I swear if he didn’t verbalize how much he bloody hated us I would think he was flirting with you y/n/n.” 
“Shut it, Weasley, don’t you put that on me,” you pointed your finger at him, tone joking but words serious. He put his hands up in defense, laughing along with the rest of your friends as you all gathered your things and headed towards your first class. 
Unbeknownst to you, a similar conversation was being had at the Slytherin table. “Glad to see meeting your soulmate hasn’t deterred you from trying to flirt with anything that breathes,” Pansy took a sip of her pumpkin juice, teasing the curly haired boy across from her. 
“Dunno what you mean, Pans,” the dimples on Mattheo’s cheeks popping out as he smirked. 
“Show us your arm again, cousin,” Draco’s words causing everyone to look at Mattheo now. The younger boy scowled, rolling up the sleeve of his dress shirt. There on his arm, in beautiful loopy script were the words you’ve got to be fucking joking.
Theo couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a foul word in such pretty handwriting.” 
Mattheo rolled his eyes, pulling his sleeve back down, “Yeah, well let’s just hope the bird is someone I can tolerate.” 
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You let out a long groan, hands rubbing up and down your face as you leaned your elbows on your knees . Hermione was sat next to you in the common room, rubbing up and down your back, “The day’s not over quite yet, y/n/n. It wouldn’t appear if you weren’t gonna meet them today.” 
“Yeah,” Ron put on his best attempt at an encouraging smile, “maybe they’re another Gryffindor and you’ll meet them before we go to bed.” Harry nodded next to him in agreement. 
You stood up, grabbing your jumper off the arm of the couch and throwing it on, “M’gonna go for a walk.” 
Hermione’s lips downturned, “It’s nearly curfew.” You sighed, looking over at Harry. “I’ll go get my cloak,” he sighed, standing and walking quickly to his dorm room. 
After Harry’s return you thanked him, spending an extra twenty minutes convincing Hermione that you would be the utmost cautious and affirmed to Ron that you would stash the cloak if you were to be caught. 
Now you were quietly climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower. When you got to the top, you did a quick look over the railing. With no sign of Filch anywhere you dropped the cloak, laying it on the floor so you didn’t have to sit on the bare ground. 
As you got comfortable you dug in your shirt, pulling out a spliff. Hermione would murder you if she found out you smoked, however the year you all had to study for your O.W.L’s, you were so stressed you ended up buying from Theo Nott.
He promised to keep it to himself and you promised it was a one time thing, but you found yourself buying from him every couple months. You weren't sure if she would be more disappointed in your smoking, or you interacting with someone in the forbidden Slytherin group.
You mumbled a short incendio before taking a long drag. You blew the smoke out slowly, watching it ripple through the air and up into the night sky. You looked up at the stars, knowing the day was likely to be over soon and wondering if you were the only witch that was destined to not run into their soulmate like everyone else. 
You were lost in your thoughts and self pity. So much so you didn’t even hear someone come up the tower steps until they hit the top. You scrambled to your feet, ready to cover yourself with the cloak when you realized it wasn’t Filch, but a boy instead. 
The dark of the night made it difficult for you to see exactly who it was at first, that and the fact that every time he took a step forward you seemed to take a step back until your back was against the stone wall. When he finally stepped into the light, your breath caught in your throat. Standing in front of you, signature smirk adoring his face was Mattheo Riddle. 
You stayed rigid against the wall as he got closer to you. His fingers brushed yours as he took the spliff, bringing it up to his lips and inhaling. His eyes never left yours as he turned his head slightly, blowing the smoke into the night. His eyes traveled over you, taking in your black sleep shorts and house jumper. When he looked at your face again he locked eyes with you, almost like he was trying to read what was going on in your brain. 
“Do I intimidate you, love?” The words seemed to leave his lips without a second thought and you felt like your chest was going to cave in. There was just no way, absolutely bloody not that he said those words, the words you had been anticipating someone to say all day. Him of all people that could’ve spoken them. 
He raised his eyebrows at you, clearly looking for you to answer. Instead of some sputtering response of nervousness like Mattheo was expecting, your face just dropped. 
“You’ve got to be fucking joking.” Mattheo’s face went white after you responded, and that was all the evidence you needed to confirm that Mattheo fucking Riddle was your soulmate. He hated you. You hated him. How could two people that despise each other be destined to be soulmates?
"What are you even doing up here?" You crossed your arms over your chest, sitting into your hip. His smirk only seemed to grow, "I think the better question is what are you doing up here, partaking in drugs no less? Little miss golden girl."
You rolled your eyes, "What's that supposed to mean, Riddle?" Mattheo's jaw clenched, "It's Mattheo. And you know what it means. Wonder what everyone would think if they knew little miss perfect liked to come up to the astronomy tower to get high."
"Why would anyone believe you over me?" You were acting a little cocky now, but Mattheo was right in the aspect that you and your friends were seen in an overall more positive light than he and his.
However the look on Mattheo's face made you think he knew something you didn't, "I guess I could just have your dealer tell everyone, or are you buying from someone besides Nott these days?"
He was irritating you on purpose now. You grabbed the spliff back from Mattheo, going to sit where you were before but now leaning your forehead against the railing, “This is got to be some kind of mistake.” 
Mattheo could only snicker as he went to sit next to you, hanging his arms over the raining as he looked over the grounds, “S’destiny love, no mistake about it.” 
“Thanks so much, you’re being really encouraging about this whole thing,” you rolled your eyes, holding your hand out to him. He took it from you, filling his lungs with smoke again, passing it back and forth throughout the conversation. 
Mattheo shrugged his shoulders, “At least we’re both fit.” You snorted at this, “Who said I thought you were fit?” He scoffed, “Please, I’ve seen the way you ogle me.” You found yourself laughing, a true full belly head thrown back laugh before you looked at him and he thought the smile you were wearing was actually kind of cute, “How would you know that unless you were ogling me, hmm?”
Mattheo opened his mouth to respond, but found he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse before you were speaking again. The sigh you let out let him know how stressed you really were, “Our friends are not going to like this.” 
He nodded, smoke billowing out of his mouth as he spoke, “Merlin, no. They’re going to bloody hate it. But s’not like it was really our choice.” You knew he was right, and you knew he was trying to be comforting, but the tone in his voice let you know that he was just as worried to let his group of friends know as much as you were. 
You opened your mouth to respond to him when you heard the all too familiar jingle of Mrs. Norris’ collar sounding like she was ascending the stairs. Your eyes grew wide as you and Mattheo both jumped to your feet. It looked like Mattheo is contemplating jumping over the tower railing when you grab his arm to push him flat against the stone wall. 
He looked at you with utter confusion as you grabbed the cloak before turning around and pushing your back flush against his chest. “What are you-”
“Shut it,” you cut him off, indicating to him to wrap his arms around your waist as you threw the cloak over the pair of you. As the cat walked on to the tower landing you felt Mattheo’s arms tighten around you, doing his best to pull you impossibly closer. 
He was decently taller than you, having to duck down slightly so the cloak covered you both properly. His face was tucked in close to your neck. His breath warm and tickling your skin as Filch followed after his beloved pet, glancing around for anything out of place. 
When he was satisfied, Filch turned around to leave, letting his cat lead the way. You waited a few beats, making sure they were nearly to the bottom of the staircase before pulling the cloak off the two of you and pushing Mattheo’s hands off of your body. 
“Thing comes in handy, that,” he pointed to the cloth in your hand. You chucked, “Yeah, m’sure your lot would get a lot less detentions if you had one.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, “Yeah, we can’t all be like the golden quartet.” 
You scoffed slightly at this as you headed down the stairs, Mattheo close behind you, “We didn’t give ourselves that nickname, you know.” He couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah but m’sure you all don’t mind it. Definitely gets you some favoritism.” 
You stopped at the end of the corridor, Mattheo running into your back at the action and cursing. You turned to face him, “You know, my friends and I have endured a hell of a lot of shite over the last couple years, maybe we deserve a little break when we’re actually able to do normal bloody teenage things.” 
As much as you were trying to be harsh with him, be the slightest bit intimidating, his height gave him all the advantage. Mattheo knew what you meant, what you were saying without saying the words themselves. “I’m not like him. Don’t clump me in your same category of hatred. He’s done things to me too,” his eyes reflected a bit of hurt as he spoke and you knew he was telling the truth. 
Everyone in school assumed Mattheo was just like his father, held the same ideals and wanted the same things for the wizarding world. The look you were seeing on his face told you otherwise. Your frustration quickly fizzled, instead turning into something closer to pity, “M’sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” he deadpanned, “Let’s just get back to our common rooms.” You walked together in silence until you had no choice but to split off. You agreed to meet each other in the courtyard during lunch the next day and you were racking your brain on how you were going to break this news to Harry, Hermione and Ron.
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To say you were nervous was an understatement. When you broke the news to your friends about who your soulmate ended up being it wasn’t exactly well received. Hermione was worried, but understanding of the fact that you had no choice in the matter. Harry was upset, but again was trying his best to be mature and said he wouldn’t interfere with you spending some time with Mattheo to get to know him better. Ron took it the worst, which you wished surprised you but he did have a flair for the dramatics.
You were first waiting for Mattheo on a bench in the courtyard, but you couldn’t stop your legs from bouncing, therefore you found a place beneath a tree, attempting to read the same three lines of a book Hermione had loaned you the other day. 
When Mattheo found you and finally sat down next to you, you shut your book immediately, letting out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank Godric, you’re here.” It didn’t go unnoticed by you the way a pair of dimples christened his cheeks, “Miss me already, pretty girl? S’barely been twelve hours.” 
You shoved his shoulder lightly, trying to resist the pink that tinted your cheeks at the nickname he used, “Not at all, I’ve been sitting here for the better part of twenty minutes, mind you. Thought maybe you decided to ditch me.” Mattheo shrugged, “M’always late. You’re gonna have to get used to that. And I would never ditch you, we’re soulmates, love. You’re stuck with me for life.” 
He had a childlike grin on his face when he said that latter part and you couldn’t help the slight notion of butterflies that seemed to flutter in your stomach or the smile that appeared on your face.
All last night you thought it was going to be difficult to fall for Mattheo, but maybe the universe knew something when it paired you two together. 
“So how did your friends take the news?” You tried to keep voice neutral, but you really were worried about their responses. Mattheo leaned back against the tree, “They were shocked for sure, Draco took it the hardest. He was more worried about having to spend more time with Potter than me being with you though. Told him that would probably be more rare than he anticipated. W’bout yours?”
You nodded, “Not as bad as I thought, actually. Mione was understanding, as always. Harry was actually pretty good about it, but very skeptical. Ron actually took it the worst, but he’s just protective. Basically like me brother.” 
“How d’ya mean?” 
You leaned back against the tree yourself, shoulder to shoulder now with Mattheo. You could feel the heat radiating off of him and you wondered if his skin was always warm to the touch, “Both my parents are aurors so they travel a lot. They didn’t think it was safe for me to go with them, so Ron’s mum offered for me to stay at theirs whenever it was needed. Turns out it was needed more times than not growing up.” 
Mattheo nodded, listening intently as you spoke. You both started asking surface questions about each other; favorite color (he said black), favorite hobby (quidditch), favorite class (free period). 
When both your friend groups came looking for you after lunch period Mattheo asked if you would go to Hogsmead with him over the weekend. You agreed, finding yourself wanting to get to know more about him. Over the next two months you went to Hogsmead with Mattheo at least one day during each weekend. 
You slowly learned that his favorite candy was fizzing whizbees, having to stop at Honeydukes every trip for him to grab some. You learned that he was actually very intelligent even though he tried to seem like he wasn't, as he was passing all of his classes even though he skipped half of them. You learned that even though Draco was older than him, he felt like an older brother to his cousin. And maybe your favorite thing that you learned, purely on accident, was that if you squeeze just above his hip that he was incredibly ticklish. 
Throughout all of this you still hadn’t kissed. You kept telling yourself (and your friends) that you didn’t want to, but the more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself yearning for it. There were times of lingering touches; his hand on your lower back as he guided you into a building, his fingertips brushing yours as you walked, his leg pressing against yours while you sat next to each other in the courtyard or at the Three Broomsticks. 
Hermione, the ever observant friend that she was, noticed your shift in attitude towards Mattheo even before you did. So when she cornered you in the common room, demanding you tell her your true feelings it was almost a relief to let it all out. 
“I think I might actually like him, Mione. Like, I know that sounds like something an insane person would say, that they like Mattheo Riddle, like romantically, like someone who isn’t just some daft bimbo, but there's just so much more to him that he lets people see.”
Hermione can’t help but laugh, “I get what you mean. Harry and Ron are coming around, you know. They see how happy you look when you’re with him.” 
You tilt your head slightly at this, “What do you mean how happy I look?” 
Hermione just shakes her head with a smile, “Like you’re with your person.” You can’t escape the blush that creeps up your neck and covers your cheeks. Hermione’s giggling at you now, “Have you still not kissed him yet?” 
You scoffed, “Godric, no.” She pushed your shoulder playfully, “Well why not, y/n/n? Don’t you want to?” 
You looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers, “I mean…I think so? But he just hasn’t really…gone for it, you know?” 
She nodded in solidarity, “Oh I know, trust me. I had to make the first move with Ronald. Maybe you have to do the same thing?” 
You contemplated her words. They invaded a space in your brain for the rest of the night, then the rest of the next morning, and through dinner, and even now as you stood leaning against the railing in the astronomy tower waiting for Mattheo to meet you. 
When you heard him coming up the steps you turned only to see him with the sweetest smile on his face. “Hey pretty girl,” he greeted as he enveloped you in a hug. “Hi, Teo,” you had donned the nickname on him your third or so time at Hogsmead. He gave you a good squeeze before letting go, his arms still lingering on your waist with yours around his neck, “What’d you wanna talk about?” 
His question was innocent, no implications in his voice that he expected anything beyond you wanting to see him. With Hermione’s advice in the back of your head you knew you needed to just act, as any more talking might lead to you psyching yourself out. 
You slid your hands down from his neck, grasping lightly to the lapel of his blazer. He raised his eyebrows slightly at the action, the smallest of smirks on his face. 
Without giving yourself time to overthink you pull him into you, lips crashing against yours. He’s shocked at first, but just for a moment before he responds, walking you back until you’re pressed against the stone wall.
One of his hands slides up your body, ghosting over your stomach and the valley of your breasts before settling lightly on your neck. The implication of the hand gesture makes you whimper slightly and Mattheo takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Your hands find his hair, tugging lightly at the curls.
When he finally pulls away you find yourself chasing his lips and he smiled at the reaction. “I think I could kiss you forever,” his forehead is resting against yours, lips still so close you can feel his breath on your own. “Yeah?” you laugh a little, smile only increasing when he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Yeah, pretty girl. Forever.”
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kyuujo · 3 months ago
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↳ thinkin of u <3
↳ sae itoshi, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro x fem!reader (separate) ↳ nsfw(ish) ↳ established relationships, nudes, descriptions of masturbation (fem), “sending them nudes/spicy vids while they’re in public”, slight sexting?, contains crack (sorry i can’t help myself), no explicit sex but lots of allusions to it, language, aged up characters, not proof read :x, my writing
↳ 1k words
↳ tbh i’ve thought about this trope for a long time and finally got the creativity and inspiration to write it! i’m not entirely sure of the quality of this as i’ve never written anything like this before, but i hope it’s still enjoyable! thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoy!! <3
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“… now that you’ve played alongside japan’s u-20, would you ever reconsider your decision not to join? the people want to know.”
sae sent an icy glare to the reporter across from him; he’d thought he’d made his stance on this vividly clear, but obviously not.
“no.” sae said simply, reveling in the spark of indignation his refusal brought to the man’s eyes.
“well, why not—?”
sae lifted a hand to silence the man when his phone pinged twice — maybe that was rude, but sae had the feeling that whatever had just come through his phone would be a thousand times more entertaining and engaging than the sleaze across from him.
and boy, was sae right.
my wife: seeing you on tv has me all worked up. maybe hurry it along? 😘
my wife: [video attachment]
despite his current surroundings and the many cameras pointed at him, sae opened the attachment — it was a video, one without sound, but the muteness didn’t take away from the sheer tempting nature of it.
you looked so good, back resting against the armrest of the couch and legs spread lazily and slit glistening in the flash of the camera. your fingers teased at your clit lightly, and desire shot through sae’s body as he itched to replace them with his own.
sae didn’t even get halfway through the video before his phone pinged with another message — and then another.
my wife: SAE YOU ARENT SUPPOSED TO LOOK YET
my wife: YOURE ON LIVE TV PUT IT DOWN
sae smirked and gave the reporter a lazy wave before standing.
“my deepest apologies, but i’m cutting this short. i have some other business to attend to.”
sae couldn’t give two shits about the way both the reporter and his pr manager sputtered and desperately attempted to flag him back — his woman was waiting on him at home, and that was far more important.
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shidou rarely ever felt bored during matches — but so far, this one had simply been a drag. the opposing team didn’t really offer much of a challenge, and shidou had scored more points off of them than he could justly remember.
by the time half-time rolled around, shidou was seething and sweating, feeling incredibly tense and antsy as he whipped into the locker room.
his teammates knew not to bother him when he was in a dip like this, so they cleared a path for him and avoided eye contact at all costs. if shidou weren’t so frustrated he would have found it amusing.
there was only one thing that may make shidou feel the least bit better — messages from you, something he was guaranteed to find at half-time. a trickle of excitement slithered down his body when he pulled his phone from his locker and plopped down on the nearest bench. his phone read ‘3 unread messages’ when he clicked the screen on.
shidou didn’t think twice about tapping open the chat log between the two of you, a smile instantly gracing his lips at your first message.
babygirl💕: hope your match is going well baby!! i know you’re gonna rock it
babygirl💕: but on the slim to none chance that it may not be, i want to give you some motivation ;)
babygirl💕: [video attachment]
shidou probably should have ensured his sound was off before opening it — but your legs were spread open so deliciously and your fingers were working your cunt at a desperate speed, what was shidou supposed to do? think rationally? tough chance.
lewd moans and whines of “shidouuuuu” filled the locker room and ten pairs of shocked eyes met his. shidou’s cheeks warmed and anger sparked in his chest at the knowledge that now his teammates knew how absolutely angelic you sounded in the throes of pleasure.
all it took was a heavy glare and they were clearing out of the room to give him and your video some privacy.
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every single tiny box on the shelf looked exactly the same.
what was he even supposed to get again? he’d read over the front of every box at least three times. pearl, radiant, braided… none of those words rung any bells in his head. what was it you had told him before he left?
“maybe it was the pearl…?” nagi murmured to himself, eyes narrowed as if that would somehow help the answer become more clearer to him. he gingerly grabbed a box and examined it before promptly putting it back on the shelf.
nagi didn’t like to admit defeat, but he’d been perusing this shelf for nearly thirty minutes and still didn’t know shit from shat — he’d have to phone a friend, unfortunately.
nagi slipped his phone from his pocket and was just about to tap open his contacts when his phone pinged with a message; ironically, it was from you.
babycake <3: hurry home love. i’m waiting for you 💕
babycake <3: [image attachment]
nagi’s eyes nearly bugged from his skull when he caught sight of the picture you’d sent him — you, sprawled across the lush queen bed, donning nothing but his freshly washed jersey. if he looked close enough, he could see the faintest tease of your nipples perked up beneath the fabric, and the hem of it fell to your mid thighs, hiding the sweet spot between your legs.
nagi sucked in a breath and clicked off his phone screen, willing his half-hard dick to calm down — at least while he was in the store. with furtive glances down each side of the isle nagi powered his screen on and, while avoiding letting his gaze fall to the tempting picture, typed a quick response.
me: omw. don’t move.
your period wasn’t due for another week, anyway. nagi always had time to figure out the pearl-versus-radiant-versus-braided debacle before then.
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i genuinely had so much fun cooking these up! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments and reblogs are not at all required but are much appreciated!! <33
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blushweddinggowns · 1 year ago
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I'm all for the angsty overhearing a conversation trope where it's all sad because of a misunderstanding. But I also love the opposite. Overhearing a conversation where the other person is just singing their praises. Especially with Steve and Eddie.
Like Steve being very aware that he likes Eddie, but way too afraid of rejection to actually do anything about it. So he just pines away, and gets closer and closer to him with the full expectation of it never going anywhere. Until one day, he comes to pick Dustin up from Hellfire too early, and he can hear everyone talking through the door. About him. But mostly it's Eddie, his loud voice carrying across the room. And he's just raving about him, and somehow managing to bring him up in conversations that have nothing to do with him.
Do you remember that time Steve saved my life by shoving my guts back into my body? Yeah, that's the level of skill and luck you're going to need to survive this.
Did you guys know that Steve actually gave me this background music? He's weirdly knowledgeable about classical stuff. Isn't that cool? He's so smart and-oh, yeah, the merchant agrees to the deal.
So uh, is Steve maybe seeing anyone? He isn't right? Like he would tell me if he was, wouldn't he?
And he doesn't give a single fuck at the collective groaning of the group whenever he gets going, never failing to pull out the I almost Died saving the world with you card to get them to shut up. And by the time it actually ends, Steve is a glowing, blushing mess who can't stop smiling.
Or the other way around. With Eddie full on assuming he has 0 shot because Steve's, Steve.
The golden boy who could obviously never be into him like that, or any other guy for that matter. So he doesn't do anything about his feelings, he just hangs out with him more and more and falls for him more and more, waiting for the inevitable day when he gets a girlfriend and his fantasies could finally die. Except one day, he spends the night at Steve's, but he isn't in bed when he wakes up. He goes to find him, just to hear him downstairs loudly talking to Robin. Because neither of them know the concept of inside voices when they're together. And he waits at the top, listening in just for the fuck of it, but mostly because he doesn't want to interrupt.
"I just feel like bed sharing the way you guys do is gay as hell," Robin sighed, "Especially at your age. Also, should we even be talking about this with him in the house?"
And before Eddie has time to freak out over that and the possibility he's gotten caught with his feelings, Steve is already answering, "I know right? And don't worry about it, he sleeps like the dead. But I don't know what to do about it. He still hasn't done anything. Am I just reading this whole thing wrong?"
"Well you could try making the first move instead of trying to trick him into doing it," Robin tried.
"And ruin our friendship incase I'm wrong? Yeah, no. Besides, I go like, full dumbass around him when I'm nervous. He's too hot. I'd probably walk into a wall in the middle of professing my undying love."
"Yeah," Robin sighed, "You probably would."
And Eddie is just having a moment upstairs. A full on I think I may have to jump for joy moment. Or even, I think I'm five seconds away from squealing like a teenage girl moment.
Yeah, I like that shit.
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mosoderbergh · 14 days ago
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Emmrich and the good old fashioned body heat trope
Ok, there’a a thing about Rook and Emmrich pre-romance and the “caught in the cold” trope that is just beautiful to me. Because it would go a lot more innocently than with other pairings. Emmrich is far too much of a gentleman. But that’s what makes this so cute. Like… hear me out.
Emmrich knows the importance of keeping warm and the advantages of sharing body heat. He’s the sort of man who would read up on survival procedures before venturing out into extreme weather.
But surely, a shirt is thin enough to not significantly hinder the transmission of warmth. Surely he couldn’t be expected to strip entirely. He gets rid of some layers, but stays buttoned up to his neck. (Rook is shirtless the moment the words “it might be advisable to, well, huddle up” exit Emmrich’s mouth. They notice Emmrich spends the rest of the night holding intently focussed eye contact.) They cocoon themselves in blankets, sitting by the fire, shoulder to shoulder, backs leaning against insert obligatory cave/cliffside/tree trunk here. Emmrich has read just enough bodice rippers that an image comes, unbidden, to his mind. Of a broad-chested hero gallantly drawing the object of his desire into his muscled arms as they shiver and swoon. He is shocked at himself when he feels a blush creep up his neck. To even allow such a thought! This is nothing like that. A dashing hero may be present, yes, but they are caught in the cold with a colleague several decades their senior. There is nothing swoonworthy about it.
Emmrich files the thought away, and despite the awkward situation, the evening goes on… really rather pleasantly. They end up talking for a good long while. Rook opens up about their own upbringing and Emmrich elaborates on his. They share nostalgic memories. Emmrich recounts some shenanigans from his student days, and Rook can’t believe there’s a mischievous side to him (the mischievous side in question was called Johanna, but Emmrich doesn’t speak her name).
At some point, the comfortable silences stretch out longer and longer. Rook’s head rests on Emmrich’s shoulder. They aren’t quite asleep yet - when he reacts to the contact with an intake of breath, they draw back for a moment. But then, Emmrich leans in, just slightly. Just enough to let them know the touch is not unwelcome. The way Rook curls up at his side then makes Emmrich ache a little. As someone who is an authority figure to so many people (in a way that isolates him sometimes) this simple act of intimacy is precious to him. A show of trust on such a personal level. It takes him more courage than he’d like to admit to rest his cheek against Rook’s hair. The way Rook sighs contentedly gives him goosebumps. It’s been quite a while since Emmrich has shared a bed with anyone. And this is an unusual situation, but still… he can’t help but think how he has missed it. The companionship. The warmth. Sinking into sleep with the comfort of a friendly presence. The intoxicating closeness of someone who has found their way into his heart - this is another thought he tucks away neatly.
And because I can’t resist another trope, of COURSE they shift in their sleep. Emmrich wakes to find himself spooning Rook, with one hand resting on their stomach. They are soft there, and radiating heat. Emmrich thanks every deity he can recount that he tends to wake up early, because if he hadn’t been hard upon waking, the sensation of their body against his, their skin underneath his fingertips would have done the trick. He retreats discreetly to lie on his back. Only for Rook to shift and settle with their head on his chest, one leg draping over him, grazing his erection in the movement. Emmrich forgets to breathe.
He does wake them up, after he’s gotten a hold of himself somewhat. They untangle from him with a sleepy apology. And Emmrich, for a moment, wants nothing more than to stop them, or pull them back into an embrace, or…
He chastises himself for being a touch-starved old fool. Making so much out of nothing. But then Rook slides a hand up to squeeze his shoulder, and they smile at him brightly, beautifully, and ask him if he slept well. And it’s all he can do to swallow a rather wordy confession of his growing infatuation.
(The beauty of Emmrich, to me, is that he’s both a “I could out-sex any man in this room” kind of guy AND an “omg I can’t believe our hands touched” kind of guy. I love him.)
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shewrites444 · 1 year ago
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arranged [thomas shelby x reader smut]
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[ i’ve never written about one of cillian murphy’s characters but oppenheimer has me feeling a bit inspired lately. i haven’t watched peaky blinders in ages, so apologizes if it’s not completely accurate to the storyline. ]
[update: arranged part 2 ]
word count - 2.1k
[ summary - the reader and tommy agree to an arranged marriage that suits both of their needs. despite their disliking of each other, the two seem quite fond of each other in the bedroom, especially on their wedding night. ]
[ warnings - enemies to lovers trope that includes unprotected sex, oral, roughness, etc ]
-
thomas shelby was the last man i ever imagined myself being wedded to, but when my father unexpectedly passed and i no longer had the protection of his people, i had to find another way to make sure i wouldn’t be a victim to any gangs of birmingham - including the peaky blinders.
of course, tommy would never have married me if there wasn’t something i could offer him in return - that happened to be a ton of inherited money from my father, and several breweries i now technically owned, and numerous meeting spots that only i knew about, that the coppers would never find him or his family at, during anytime of the day.
despite the convenience of our arrangement, there was nothing favorable for either of us past the business side of things. our families had been at each other’s throats for years and now that my father was gone, a lot of that tension was, but nevertheless, you can’t expect a peaky blinder to not hold a grudge, even on their wedding night.
“see, that wasn’t so bad.” i mutter to my newly wed husband, walking into the dimly lit bedroom as i took off my white heels, setting them aside the now shut door. i watch as tommy began to unbutton his white dress shirt, and i sigh to myself, but loud enough to quirk his brow.
i tuck my hair behind my ears, walking to the bed and pulling the sheets down to prepare for what would hopefully be a fairly long sleep, given that i’d prefer not think much about who i was now standing across from.
“you don’t have to stay in here tonight if you don’t want to or even at all, tommy. you already have children and i’m aware you don’t want more, and frankly, i don’t want any, so just lie and tell polly the marriage was consummated tomorrow morning. go on.” i gesture my hand up and towards the door, watching his blank expression as i spoke in a more demanding, harsh manner.
he walked towards the bed, untucking his side, his shirt now unbuttoned and his toned, pale body at my exposure, which only made my cheeks redden as the muscles flexed with his movements. i may have despised the man for his profession, but it’s not like he wasn’t physically attractive.
“i may not be so found of you, mrs. shelby, but i do keep my marriage duties, at least to sleep beside you.” he says plainly, sitting down on the white sheets before looking up to me with a teasing expression. it almost felt wrong to see him show any emotion besides, well, none. “now, do i have to make you turn around while i fuck you, or can you bare the sight of me while doing so?”
i roll my eyes with a smirk, laying down and hovering my face above his before biting my bottom lip, glancing at his own with a bit of temptation, but nothing i couldn’t ignore for the sake of my ego. “i’m shocked you even asked to touch me, mr. shelby. peaky blinders have always seemed so forward with what they want.”
he tilted his head, his well-groomed hair bouncing lightly at the movement, now reaching over to hold the back of my neck, running his fingertips through the ends of my hair. “would you prefer i not ask? you didn’t strike me as the type of woman who’d prefer to be fucked like an animal.”
“you didn’t strike me as the type of man to wait until we were wed to even discuss sex, so we’re both a bit surprised. have you been distracted with other women through our engagement, dear husband?”
he scoffed at my comment, sitting up and leaning himself down to peck at my neck lightly, his heated breath against my tingling skin, a pit forming in my stomach at the touch he never dared grant me until now.
“you never gave me any suggestion to fuck before tonight, [y/n]. i assumed you wouldn’t allow me to lay a finger on you. this all seemed like a business opportunity, a plan for protection and financies, nothing more.” he muttered through his kisses, trailing his lips down to my covered chest before looking up to me again. “so, how about i ask you like a gentlemen, mrs. shelby. is this for business, or not?”
i shrug softly, glancing down to meet his seductive, icy blue eyes. “i think i’ll be able to tell if it is or not when you fuck me, mr. shelby."
he reached over to pull me on top of him, grabbing the white gown that dressed me and helping me to slip it off my core and past my arms, tossing it to the floor, which exposed me in nothing but my underwear, my breasts falling out of the fabric and resting before him. he took one hand to hold my back, the other cupping one breast and his thumb flicking at the hardening nipple. i feel him push me down, his lips attaching to the bud as i let out a soft moan, shocked by how sensual thomas shelby could be if directed to do so.
i could feel the bulge in his pants growing, beginning to grind myself against the black pants while he fondled my breasts with his mouth and free hand, the other that was once on my back now guiding itself down to my ass. he pulled himself away from my breast, panting softly to himself as the tension began to increase between our moving bodies.
“take off your panties and lay down on your back, won't you.” he said to me in a more demanding tone. i stood up and did so, spreading my legs before him as he undressed himself at the side of the bed, soon leaning down in front of me.
i chew my bottom lip at the sight of the man before me, but gasp as his tongue links to my clit, swirling and flicking around the sensitive bud of skin, while i only grow wetter through his touch and the saliva that collected against my entrance. i reach down to hold his head of black hair, my other hand resting against my chest while he continued to give me nothing but pleasure.
“this… this doesn’t seem… like b-business to me…” i stutter my words, my back arching at every sensitive touch he brought to my body. my words made him pull away, a smirk on his wet lips as he stuck one finger inside of me, pumping and curling it slowly enough to draw a loud moan from my lips before pulling it out right after.
he leaned down and gestured for me to open my mouth, sticking his finger inside for me to taste my own juices before pulling it out and licking it himself.
“neither does this, how wet you are for me. are you sure you want to take back the consummation of our arrangement, hm? it seems you like my tongue, mrs. shelby. do you think i’ll like yours?” he grinned, standing up and pointing his full erection towards me, holding it in one hand as i sat up on the bed.
i blush, getting off of the bed and onto my knees before him. i take his length into one hand, pumping it slowly as i look up to him, our eyes locked when i lean forward and take his tip into mouth, a heavy sigh coming from his lips as i begin to suck him off. he was thick and much longer than any man i’d ever been with, and frankly, if we were to sleep together tonight, i was a bit nervous of how my body would take him and the aftermath of it all tomorrow morning.
“fuck, fill your throat with me, [y/n]..” he moaned, both hands holding the back of my head as he thrusted himself towards my face. i took his cock down my throat, my eyes closing almost immediately as a tear runs down my cheek from the unexpected penetration, moving my head back and forth as his balls slap against my wet chin.
he tilted his head, mouth hung open as he watched me take him down my throat. i could hear his breath cutting short each time he thrusted, his cock twitching inside my mouth as he edged himself through each stroke. when he could tell through my reddening expression and glossy eyes that i was a bit overstimulated, he slowly pulled himself out of my mouth, leaning down to help me back on my feet and onto the bed.
he kneeled down before me, grabbing my face with both hands and pressing a passionate kiss against my lips, his tongue pushing itself into my mouth, which distracted me from the way he was moving my body off the bed again. he wraps his arms around me and guides me across the room and to the dresser, where he then breaks the kiss and turns me around, bending my body against the wood to where i made eye contact with the mirror that connected the furniture.
"i think this is worth the watch, don't you?" he teases, a devilish smirk across his face as he takes my neck in one hand, the other trailing before my pussy, his index and middle fingers attaching to my clit as he pushes himself inside of me without warning.
i gasp, watching my mouth open as he begins to fuck me, hard, against the dresser. the stimulation above my insides didn't make this any easier to take, given the fact i could already feeling my climax building in a matter of seconds.
i rest both palms against the wood, watching tommy's lips trail to my shoulder as he kissed against my sweating skin, leaving fresh hickeys from time to time, marking me like i was more than just an arrangement to him. if anything, this showed me that thomas shelby may not favor me, but he sure wanted the world to know i was his wife, and no one else's.
"i could fuck you all day, [y/n]. nothing fucking... compares to... how good you feel, fuck.." he muttered between kisses, looking up to meet my eyes in the mirror, his hand moving from my neck to hold my left breast tightly, halting it from bouncing throughout his thrusts. "do you feel me as much as i feel you?"
i nod, mouth still hung open, unable to even speak a word as tommy pulled my body closer, his fingers digging into my clit and forcing me to arch my back down, my ass pressing against him and causing even harsher friction between our bodies while he quickened his pace at the touch, the sound of our skin slapping together overpowering the bedroom.
i suddenly feel his arm wrap around my waist, and then the other, holding me so close and his body leaned so far down my back was touching his core. he thrusted deeper, further than what i even thought was possible for him to go, and so much so to the point i was in immense pain, but god, it felt so fucking good. his cock overpowered my entire body, and i felt my orgasm rushing to the surface, fluids leaking out from inside of me past himself and dripping between my legs, his own orgasm filling my insides within a matter of seconds after.
i feel him slide out of me, catching his own breath and helping turn me around to face him. he takes my hand and places the other on my back, guiding me to the bed once more and laying me down, pulling the sheet on top of me to cover my stomach down, my breasts exposed to the cold air. i feel his lips against my chest, lightly kissing from my nipples, to my shoulders, to my neck, and to my lips, once more. he smiles softly, and genuinely, to me, before snapping out of his sappy mood to grab a cigarette from the nightstand, lighting it.
"do you think we'll be doing this again?" he asks quietly, handing me the cigarette. "doesn't seem like it would be a negative thing to add to our arrangement, eh?"
i smirk, blowing the smoke out from my lips and towards the ceiling. "i wouldn't be opposed, but if you fuck me that hard every time, i'm not sure i would be able to get out of bed the next morning."
he chuckled to himself, standing up and walking to the other side of the bed, sliding himself into the sheets and putting out the cigar. he took me into his arms, lighting running his hand across my hair. "we can see about that. goodnight, mrs. shelby."
i rest my head against his chest, closing my eyes and smiling to myself, partially hoping tommy wouldn't see my vunerability.
"goodnight, mr. shelby."
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questionablecuttlefish · 24 days ago
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Okay Fine Let's Talk Timebomb and Season Two.
I do want to talk about this because I have a Lot of thoughts and feelings and it has been building up and building up, not only based on what's happening in other social spaces, but what people keep bringing into mine despite my best efforts to avoid it.
This isn't any kind of hatepost, I don't think I could hate Ekko or the ship if I tried, I just want to explain my very mixed feelings about the whole thing.
My likely-to-be-very unpopular take on Season Two's Timebomb romance is that it left me feeling uneasy and uncomfortable.
Not with what was in the show itself, I feel like that was perfect. Powder and Ekko sold me completely. They made me feel things. I even liked how Ekko and Jinx's story ended. I think it was beautiful, poignant, perfect...
...until.
'The Discourse' since, the way the fan culture has exploded around it, and particularly some of the creators' commentary on it, has made me sour on the whole thing.
It feels like I'm suddenly part of an increasingly small subset of people who saw what they did with S2 Timebomb and applied our media literacy to what was on our screens and got something very different to what the fandom consensus seems to be.
For context, I semi-shipped TB before this. Though I've always been Team Lightcannon, I had a lot of respect for timebomb, I understood it, I had read a few very good fics, I was just in the space of "Jinx has hurt Ekko too much for him to ever fully forgive her for murdering his friends, they might come to an understanding, and there will always be a silent undercurrent of love beneath the hurt, they may fight together on the same side again someday, but whatever bond they had as kids is broken and they can't go back, and both know it."
I respected, and still do, people who shipped them romantically, but I've always seen them as a broken childhood friendship being a much more interesting dynamic, and being hot for each other lessening that to an extent and not really adding anything to it.
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All of his interactions with Jinx in season one are violent; she murders five Firelights point-blank in front of him in her intro scene, and Ekko reacts particularly upset to the pink-haired girl, Eve or Eva, whom Jinx shoots in the back. It's clear this isn't even the first time she's fought them. We don't know how many of Ekko's found family she's put on the Memorial Wall or how close he was with any of them.
Ekko is clearly convinced that "Powder" is gone, and the person who replaced her is a cold-blooded killer who can't be reasoned with. Leading to the Bridge confrontation, and this:
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This is the first time Ekko catches a glimpse of "Powder", yes, but more importantly, this is the first moment he recognizes Jinx's humanity. He's hurting her, killing her, and he can't do it.
....and she knows he can't do it.
So, to save him the weight, she pulls a grenade, with the intent to kill them both, foreshadowing quite neatly where Ekko/Jinx (but not Ekko/Powder) is going to go in S2.
Fast forwarding from Season One here, Ekko disappears for 2/3rds of the second season, completely offscreen.
When we catch up with him he's woken up in the S2E7 AU; the Powder Timeline.
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Here's where I start to get a little confused by the fandom take. Because, you know, I've seen enough Star Trek and Stargate and Supernatural and Batman the Animated Series and Quantum Leap to know exactly what this is.
This is the 'bottle episode', this is the 'Perfect World' trope, where the protagonists find themselves in an alternate universe - or trapped in a dream - or they've died or think they've died and this is their 'heaven' - where they have everything they ever wanted.
This is familiar storytelling and E2 follows a familiar pattern, the protagonist struggles to adapt to the surreal new circumstances, they are seduced by the illusion, particularly falling in love with someone in the Perfect World, but eventually, they start noticing something incongruous - something isn't quite right - (In this case, it's Vi's death, and Powder holding back her genius and hiding her grief to be support girl for others) - that reveals the Perfect World to be not as perfect as it seems.
And the hero has to choose to go home, because he realizes that this isn't real, it doesn't belong to him, he doesn't belong here.
Which is exactly what happens with Ekko in E7.
Which brings is to AU!Powder and Jinx.
And here's where I really start to struggle with the seeming consensus that the romance between Ekko/Powder automatically leads to Ekko/Jinx, like you can just transfer the one to the other.
I'm sorry, fam, I thought my basic media literacy was telling me that this girl:
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Is not the same person as this girl:
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....and I am not getting into any debate about "Jinx" vs "Powder" as identities within our current Jinx. I'm talking about Powder in the E7 AU.
AU!Powder is literally a different human being.
She may have been the same person up until the explosion in Jayce's laboratory, but from that fork in the timeline, she becomes a FUNDAMENTALLY different person to Jinx, shaped by different experiences, different relationships, different life events.
Powder's physicality with Ekko, as you can see in those GIFs, the casual intimacy, the clear affection, the way she touches him, looks at him, her awareness of him in her space, is so utterly opposite to the way Jinx interacts with him that if anything, it nailed home to me how savagely absent this kind of feeling is from his relationship with Jinx.
Powder loves Ekko. She leans on him, snuggles into him, touches his hands, dances with him, kisses him.
Jinx cares so little about him she barely makes eye contact and would casually kill him without blinking.
And I thought that was the point.
I really thought that was the whole point of E7. Being in the perfect world, getting his perfect love story with his perfect Powder, the girl Jinx could have been, but can never be, drove home for Ekko that his feelings for Jinx, both romantic and resentful, were tangled up in his illusions of "Powder", and it took living those illusions as a physical reality for Ekko to see his mistake.
To be true to himself, and true to her, Ekko had to let that go and go home.
To face his world's Jinx, and be there for her in her darkest moment, even if it meant giving up the love he'd found with Powder, a love that belonged to a different Ekko, for someone who could never love him back.
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To me that was Ekko's most heroic moment, an act of selfless sacrifice. But that's what it was - a sacrifice.
Meanwhile, Season Two Jinx is not aware of any of this. The last time she saw Ekko was on the bridge where she nearly killed him, and for all we know she might have thought she succeeded.
She never talks about, thinks about, refers to, or even has scribble-nightmares about Ekko, not even once.
Season Two Jinx is, instead, having a love story of her own.
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And Isha was and is a PUZZLE to me. Because she's more plot device than character, she isn't necessary except as a way to give Jinx a villain-to-hero arc and a way to reconnect to her humanity.
But she could have been Ekko.
If they really, really wanted us to have Timebomb Canon, instead of confining the entire arc to a bottle episode in an alternate timeline with a literally, physically different girl, they could easily have given all of Isha's considerable screentime to an Ekko and Jinx romance.
I'm sure Amanda Overton would have been on board with that. But that's not what we got. It's almost like reading two different fix-it-fanfics for the same character, put into the same show and running in parallel.
I'm not crazy, this is what's happening for Ekko in s2;
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While this is happening for Jinx at the same time.
But Jinx's love story, too, ends with a tragic sacrifice.
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And here's where the two stories finally intersect.
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When Jinx is in her darkest moment, her absolute rock bottom, Ekko comes back into her life, a miracle, impossible, a Boy Savior.
But she's still ready to kill him.
Because she didn't dance with Ekko. She didn't invent a time machine with him. She didn't sit and watch the city lights with him and share a tender kiss and a heartfelt gift.
That was Powder.
Jinx and Ekko are resuming right where they left off on the bridge, right back to "I pull this pin and we both blow up".
They've both loved and lost, but their stories are absolutely unknown to each other. Ekko Doesn't Know About Isha. Jinx Doesn't Know About Powder.
It's only when Jinx (a genius, a reminder here) sees monkeys of her own design inside the Z-drive - recognizes her own handiwork, but knows SHE didn't make those - that, I think, sheer curiosity stirs her out of her darkness.
She has to know what that was about. She hesitates, just long enough for Ekko to speak. And, though offscreen, he tells her his story, and maybe she tells him hers.
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And it's enough, just enough, to set Jinx back on her Redemption Arc, to become the hero Isha always saw in her.
Maybe even the hero Vi and Ekko saw in her, too. Her new costume is full of references to all of the people in her life who never gave up on her.
(side note, the yellow stars and crowns puzzle me, though - they're quite prominent, but who are THEY for? Isha? Maybe? Yellow isn't a color associated with anyone in Jinx's life, but that crown's identical to the one she scribbled on Demacia in Fortiche's map, is... this a very subtle future Lightcannon tease? Nah. I'm not that crazy.)
I mean her costume is also almost literally both a Fishbones and a Fiddlesticks cosplay, with her hair as Fiddle's tongue, so take from that what you will.
It's clear Jinx and Ekko war painted each other for the battle, but the Firelights are also similarly painted up, and (with Linke even confirming this) there really wasn't time to develop anything else, guys.
And I am, honestly, fundamentally angry at anyone who would suggest that, even if she'd been in any space to want it, our boy Ekko, one of the most genuinely good men in recent fiction let alone in Arcane, would take advantage of a girl he just talked out of suicide.
Moving on. During the battle, Ekko is knocked out and lying not far from Jinx. She doesn't even look at him, she leaps up to defend Vi instead.
And that's their final interaction on the show.
Instead of returning to Ekko, Jinx chooses one final act of sacrifice.
Ekko's final shot of the show is this.
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He's sitting, alone, burning a mourning paper, where he sat with AU!Powder - where he and AU!Powder kissed - a place that has no significance to himself and Jinx, whatsoever.
It's little wonder who he's thinking about here, and which name he's burning on that paper. The girl he truly loved and lost.
For all he knows, Jinx is dead. But it's not only her he's mourning.
Or maybe he does know, or suspect, she's alive.
But either way, he's making one final act of sacrifice, too, with that paper burning into the breeze.
He's letting her go.
He's choosing his own story.
He's staying where he belongs.
Jinx may have become a symbol of the revolution, but it's Ekko who is, and always will be, the true hero of Zaun.
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And this is Jinx's final shot.
Because let's face it, we all know she's on that airship.
She's "breaking the cycle". She's "walking away". She knows that Jinx has left too many scars on the people she still loves - on Vi, on Ekko, on the cities of Piltover and Zaun - for her to pick up the pieces.
She knows that if she's going to find out what "Jinx" might stand for now, she has to go very far away from everything and everyone. She has to leave it all behind and find something new.
Maybe even someone new?
And ultimately, that's why I feel the Timebomb we got was perfect, they shouldn't touch it, they shouldn't try to force it to be "Endgame", not because it couldn't have worked, but because that's the opposite of the story they told.
For the rest of my analysis, lol, this got a bit long but i have FEELINGS.
Now, I'm not saying I wouldn't buy Jinx and Ekko as a love story if they had actually told that love story. But they didn't. It had no screen time. They have less interactions in S2, maybe even in both seasons added up, than Vi and Loris. Let that sink in a bit.
We know it's Amanda's favorite ship, so she may have intended more, and may even actually give us all more at some point, but please, dear god, let's stop pretending they fucked or kissed or even held hands offscreen.
That's honestly a bit insulting to both of these characters, to insist hell or high water that this very important milestone in their relationship happened, but they just didn't even bother to depict it. That an entire love story (because it would be a whole one, remember, Ekko and Powder had a romance but Jinx did not experience any of that, she and Ekko are back at Square One) would just be cut for time.
They both deserve better than that.
Let's stop pretending there was some grand, horny, Forever Love story with 60 minutes of cut footage, all of it timebomb content, somehow left on the cutting room floor of an animated show where every single frame has to be deliberately hand painted.
Because if in some insane universe they had written, storyboarded, voice acted and animated an entire 60 minute additional timebomb storyline and then cut it from the show, that would itself be a searing indictment of the quality of the storytelling in that imagined arc, but that's not what happened. Anyone who knows how filmmaking works would shoot this one down, and the showrunners already have, so let's leave it behind.
I know Timebomb blew up hard, and I get it, but what we got on the screen is not confirmation that there is any relationship at all between Ekko and Current Timeline Jinx. If anything, Ekko and Powder's beautiful romance only highlighted the tragic 'never to be' of Ekko and Jinx.
And it's absolutely fine to look at the art book, look at the creator comments, and imagine what could have been. Draw the fan art, write the fanfic, imagine the what-ifs and the fix-its, those are all beautiful and valid expressions and deserve their space.
But don't go insisting it's "the canon" and going after the shippers of other ships for these characters as "not canon" or somehow offensive for existing, especially toward one particular ship that, yes, has been around much longer than timebomb, is uncool.
I think this is mostly people who are New From Arcane, it's Baby's First Ship and they don't know how to share space. The timebomb fans I knew pre-season two didn't do this, at least not often enough for me to notice or care.
But I'll just say to them, if a Timebomb follow up happens and they actually tell a good love story for Ekko and Jinx, I will accept it. Grudgingly, because I think Lux/Jinx is an untold, untapped story full of incredible character dynamics that would complete Jinx's story in ways that as much as I love Ekko, he's too tied to her past, he can't.
But I love Ekko, and I love Jinx, and I will accept it.
But I'll also say to them, if the followup doesn't eventuate, if things take a turn they don't expect, if Jinx's airship is heading for Demacia, maybe they'll have to experience just a taste of what it's been like for Lightcannon fans for ten long years.
And maybe that's healthy. Maybe that's okay. Maybe our endgames don't need to be 'canon' to have value and that's a lesson we should learn.
Maybe there's a new Light on her horizon, and that's okay too. Maybe Ekko won't be alone forever. Don't forget - until Arcane - his story had nothing to do with Jinx, and there was a whole lot of it.
More with the Firelights, maybe bring in the original Lost Children of Zaun from his old stories, his inventions, his parents, all could yet be in his future. Who knows? He might find a way back to AU!Powder - or she might rebuild what they worked on together, and come to him, no matter what butterfly effects that could set in motion...
But if Jinx is heading for a Light on her horizon, maybe Ekko might Explore some of his possibilities. Find a new Spark of connection. Just saying. Jinx isn't his only ship, either 😌
And it is okay for people to move on, and let go. Maybe, for two characters whose themes are letting go of the past, living in the moment, redefining their identities, and moving on, that's what their story should be.
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nnight-dances · 5 months ago
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CASUAL
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PAIRING: karina x fem!reader
GENRE: fluff, angst, smut (explicit, but not too much?)
TROPES: fwb to lovers except you're roommates and best friends, unrequited love but not really.
LISTEN TO: casual by chappell roan
NOTE: i may be having a bit of a military wife moment rn but i'm still a sapphic at heart yearning for something more... my first gay fic i've posted on this account yay! cannot reveal if ive been in a similar situation but you could say this is based on real life! whose life, i will not say. hope u enjoy and stay safe everyone <3
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knee-deep in the [twin bed] and you're eating me out
you want to say you're in control when it happens, but you'd be a big fat liar if you did. truth be told, karina had you wrapped around her finger since she moved in. (in more ways than one, if you catch my drift.) 
you met her late freshman year in college when you shared a gender studies course with her – which alone would've been enough of a clue to which ways she swings, if not for the black leather jacket and unnecessary amount of rings she wore to class. she'd sat next to you the first week in and approached you after class. "this class is a bore," she said as a matter-of-factly, "wanna get coffee with me?" 
you'd agreed because you were mesmerized (even though secretly, that was the favorite course you took that year) and followed her into a cafe, letting her sweet talk you into all kinds of things from there. she had a big friend group which welcomed you generously when they found out you were friends with karina and eventually, that became your everyday life. 
you worked on papers sincerely while karina watched you with an unreadable glint (maybe it was unreadable, maybe you didn't want to read too much into it), swirling her untouched coffee. eventually one day, she asked you, "wanna be roommates next year?" 
that was karina. easy-going and confident. she didn't hesitate to ask you to do things with her, even if they were often bending the boundaries of what friends could do. exhibit a: she'd asked you to make out with her at a party just so she could shake off a creep. in general, she was touchier than the normal person, finding a way to cup your stomach under your shirt when you weren't looking. you get the idea. 
that's how when she moves into the same room as you sophomore year, you lost all sense of self and reality. you have to thank your mom who convinced you to arrive on campus a day earlier than most, so you could settle in without the bothersome crowd. 
you're in the middle of fixing a poster of your favorite band, the strokes, in the wall when she lets herself in with a, "you're already here, jagiya!" you almost lose your footing on your chair in order to face her, heart already a fluttering mess thanks to her shameless flirting. 
"karina!" you call out, thrilled to see your friends, complications aside. you step down carefully before throwing yourself in her waiting arms. "you're here earlier than i thought."
she pulls away with a devilish grin, "missed you too much so i came early." she looks around the room, "i see you've already made this place home."
you smile, unsettled by the way she's still holding you in her arms, your bodies attached at the hip as she takes in her home for the next year. she smells like she always does: like grapefruit and spicy cedar. you feel relaxed in her embrace, taking in her appearance. she's wearing a cropped tank with a large flannel that slips off her shoulder thanks to the heavy tote she carries.
with a sigh, you take the tote off her. "your hair grew longer," you comment as you place the bag on her desk. karina does a little spin for you, giving a full view of the wavy locks that came all the way to her navel. it only made her that much more charming (you couldn't resist wanting to know what it would feel like to run your fingers through them). 
you watch as karina lugs all her stuff into the room, refusing your help with a strict look. "can't have you spraining something already, jagiya," she quips and that's all it takes for you to sit back obediently. she takes off her flannel, letting you take in her arms. was it just you or did her biceps get bigger? (it wasn't just you. karina spent her summer the gym rat way.)
"you barely have any stuff…" you murmur mindlessly when she's nearly done in half an hour. for reference, it took you three whole hours for two days to set your stuff in place.
"you just have a lot of stuff," karina laughs, closing her closet with a satisfied clap. "thoughts on ordering in for din'?"
you raise a brow, "shouldn't we at least go see if everyone's back?"
she shrugs, "we can just go after we eat." she approaches your bed, resting her forearms next to you. "come on, i don't feel like eating that prison food just yet."
despite karina's exaggeration (your dining hall makes perfectly edible food), you let karina order for you. who are you kidding? the thought of sharing a meal with your newly established roommate in your new room on your first day together… it was sweet, you had to admit. so you give in and tell karina exactly what toppings you want on your bowl. 
but where you had expected to bond in all kinds of cozy ways with karina, the night quickly an unexpected turn. you're not sure how it happens but you end up caged under karina's body on your bed. her hot breath is hitting your face, "you got even prettier over the summer, huh?"
her words make it harder to think. to think about how this your best friend slash roommate slash the person you would do anything for. fuck, it's too late and you're too helpless when it comes to her. karina's already sliding her hand down your stomach, eliciting a mewl of her name from your throat. 
she looks pleased, chesire grin lighting up her face when she reaches your panties. "mhm, karina–" you claw at her shoulder when a cold finger meets your slick folds. she kisses your cheek and then your mouth, so strong that you can't do anything but hold her closer to your chest till she's ripping a scream from you. 
"karina, what are we doing?" you cry out, still coming down from your orgasm. what the fuck, this not a situation to be with your roommate.
"what?" she whispers, lips attached to your neck without a care in the world, "i'm just doing what i've been wanting to all summer."
"okay, that's enough," you push her off until you're both sat. you're breathless so it doesn't help the gravity of the glare you hold karina captive under. she sits back on her palms, eyes hooded. 
"we're friends," you start and sensing the protest rising in her, you hold up a hand, "and roommates. you know what they say about that, don't you?"
"don't shit where you eat," she deadpans, "but i don't care. i'm not shitting anywhere. i like you, you like me. that's why we're friends. if we want to fuck around a little, what's the big deal?"
you contain a scoff at how unbothered she is. at the same time, her words stab you in the heart, the subtle friendzoning nature of them not going unnoticed (that's why we're friends? what if you wanted to be more?)
"listen, jagiya," karina shifts dangerously closer, a thumb wiping away the sweat on your lip. "it's chill. we don't have to if you don't want to. but i'll tell you right now; i want to do things with you."
"things?" you breathe even though you know you shouldn't fall into her trap.
"yeah," she caresses your cheek, licking her lips, "want to kiss you. make you come. that sort of thing."
you fall against her weakly, feeling the soft strands of her hair envelope you like a dream. with your eyes closed, all you can feel is warmth of her body and none of the cold of her words (kiss, fuck, chill. no love.) 
"only if you let me eat you out, too," you finally murmur against her skin. feel her shake with laughter.
"thought you'd never ask."
you wake up in karina's arms. she'd dozed off in your bed as if hers wasn't two hops away. the thoughts makes you flushed (despite everything) and you turn around to face her. she's still asleep, peaceful as ever. you trace the mole below her lips, envious of how little she was attached to you.
not to drown yourself in self-pity, you had always been too attached to karina for your own good. a week into being friends with her, you would jump at a text from her, dropping everything to meet at her the cafe she had wanted to try or to help her get ready for a party. 
but it wasn't without reason. she was sweet to you, genuinely. karina sensed your moods smoothly, knowing when your silence was more than comfortable and when your drunk crying meant you were actually upset over something. she listened to you, no matter how little you claimed the problem to be, her reliable shoulder always yours when you were in trouble.
so you couldn't blame the butterflies in your stomach at waking up with her. right?
"we never made it to meeting our friends," karina mumbles through a yawn later. you're both in the middle of getting ready for the day, thankfully still a grace day before classes start. 
"you clearly had other plans," you purse your lips in the mirror, working on fixing a bump in your hair. stupid karina and her arm under your head all night. 
she comes up behind you with a playful smile, taking the brush from your hands to rake it through your hair herself. "you say that like you didn't have fun," she says. she brings your hair into a bun, taking a hairtie off her wrist to secure it in place. patting your head with eyes on you in the mirror, "there. you look cute."
you heave a deep sigh at the motions that stir up at her actions, sliding away to pretend to busy yourself with your bag. "we should go meet them today," you say, "or they might declare us dead."
"definitely," karina laughs.
meeting your friends helps you a little. maybe it's because you're seeing them after so long or maybe it's just the fact that you have normal friend feelings for them. but it's nice, you can lose yourself in a nonsense conversation with seungkwan about your recently acquired obsessions with various mobile games.
he's in the middle of offering to show you his brand-new coffee machine when karina shouts, "guys! gather up! minjeongie is driving us to get ice-cream! on her!"
you spot the short blonde attacks on karina at the presumably false declaration. your rommate dodges well, bent in a fit of laughter at minjeong's tantrum. "okay, i lied! everyone buy your own ice-cream."
as it turns out, minjeong's car is definitely not big enough to fit all 8 of your friends. "looks like we're fighting it out the fairest way," seowon declares, readying her fist for rock paper scissors. 
"since only five of us can go," karina starts, somehow finding her way next to your side. you shiver when her hands clasps yours. "minjeong, y/n, and i are definitely going."
you watch in shock as everyone wreaks havoc at her words. "now why would we allow that–"
"see, it's technically just two seats taken," she explains calmly, "y/n's sitting on my lap anyway." you gape at her audacity as she holds up your intertwined hands, like a wedding announcement.
you try to weasel out of her grip, mumbling, "that's fine. i don't really want to go–"
"what? of course you do," karina's hand tightens and you curse her strength, "you love ice-cream, jagiya. come on. let's go."
your friends seem dubious of the interaction but with a few statements along the lines of they're in their honeymoon phase as roomies, they return to the rock-paper-scissors battle at hand, now the stakes reduced to four seats now. 
"calling shotgun by the way!" karina calls as she pulls you after. you don't know what to say honestly, overwhelmed by her hand in yours. you had expected her to pretend things were the same as always but clearly not: you had never gone as far to sit in her lap with your friends around (alone was a different story. but you swear you'd only ended up in her lap because she'd wanted to hug you through your breakup with your ex.) 
"karina, you're crazy," you tell her, finally shaking your hand free. you cross your arms and karina simply takes a chug of water from the brita in geum's minifridge. 
"why? because i volunteered my lap so we'd get to go?"
before you can really give her a piece of your mind, minjeong interrupts. "looks like they figured out the winners. we're leaving in the next five minutes or the offer's off the table."
– 
two weeks and your mom invites me to [lunch]
"y/n, it's so nice to see you again," karina's mom is saying, sliding a menu toward you. thanksgiving week was around which meant parents were abundant on campus these days. it also meant your own mom couldn't make it because she was swamped with work, no thanks to her job as an on-field reporter. 
"of course, you've lost so much weight since we last met, eommeoni," you smile.
this is fine for the most part of it. you genuinely enjoy karina's mom's company. she's kind and sincere, always bringing a gift for you along with karina and treating you like her own. but this time around it's different because it's the first time you've been sleeping with her daughter.
in fact, just that morning, karina had kept you in bed longer than usual, complaining because you had gone to bed earlier than usual. it had been part of your plan to keep your conscience clean for when you met her mother, to make sure you didn't lose her respect. but being the nefarious idiot she was, karina had crawled up your torso, eyes going sweet at you, "please, just once?"
so now you had a dirtier conscience than usual, having been panting in karina's lap just hours before this lunch. 
but even if you tried to maintain composure in front of her mom, karina made it impossible. she slid close to your shoulder, hand splayed across your bare thigh (curse you and your decision to wear your sundress out today). it's honestly harmless and even excusable as a friendly gesture, but ever so occassionally, her hand climbs up, reaching closer and closer to a position that was far from appropriate.
"so tell me, do you two have any classes together this semester?" karina's mom asks you between mouthfuls of rice. you take the chance to peel karina's hand off but it ends up at your knee like a magnet. 
"not really," karina answers easily as if unaware of the power struggle going under the table. probably because she was winning by a mile. 
"i told karina she should take an elective with me but she refused," you complain, deciding if this was the way you could hit back then so be it.
"i think you forgot to mention it was an economics elective," she corrects you, hand basically clawing at your inner thight by now. you shift uneasily and karina's mom laughs.
"you know jimin," she shakes her head, "she doesn't take the serious courses. only painting all day long."
"eomma," karina groans, "how many times do i have to tell you? it's not just painting. i'm an arts major. that's like the second hardest major at this school."
"really? what's the hardest major?" (the only right question for a mother to ask.)
the rest of the lunch goes by quickly, fortunately for you. you're the first out the door, eager to put some distance between you and karina. you pretend to fan yourself out of the hot mess she's made of you.
"i have to say," karina's mom says as she gets ready to leave, "you two seem to have gotten closer since you started rooming together."
"really?" karina wonders as if clueless to the arm around your shoulder, where it had been the whole walk back to campus from the restaurant. (insufferable, you whisper to her. cute, she accuses you.)
"thanks for sticking next to her, y/n. who knows where my little girl would be without you?"
you brush of karina's mom's words of flattery, not voicing the thoughts that arise. where would i be without your daughter? 
– 
i know what you tell [our] friends
imagining a life without karina becomes terribly real when it becomes clear to you that karina truly has no intentions of treating as anything more than a friend who she sleeps with and not just as roommates. 
it's a cold slap of reality that you finally feel one day when you're eating with minjeong and seungkwan. karina's next to you, like she so often is, hand on your elbow for no good reason.
"so everyone's been wondering…" minjeong starts to say and seungkwan shoots her a glare, realizing where this was going.
"...are you two a thing?" she points to the point of contact between you and karina.
"what?" you squeak, pulling away at the call-out. but your mind goes blank, all the excuses you had practiced in your head deserting you. you had expected someone to catch on sooner or later, but somehow right now all you can think of is how you already miss karina's touch. i'm in love with her, it occurs to you to say. (wait, you love her? you wonder distantly as if the answer hadn't been crystal clear the minute she crossed lines with you.)
karina shrugs, "we're fucking. but it's casual. no attachment or anything." she adds with an arm around you, "just girls being girls, right?"
you muster out a laugh to agree with her, ignoring the concerned look seungkwan pins you with. minjeong seems convinced though, "no way! you're sleeping together? i guess it must be convenient… you live together."
"yeah, you could say that," this time it's you responding, swallowing the tremble in your throat. you'd rather die than let karina get a whiff of your true feelings. you stand up.
 "it's easy." it's the hardest. "not a big deal." you thought about it every waking second. "i have class now though. see you guys later." 
you did not have class. you ran to the nearest bathroom stall to lock yourself in and let out the sobs that had been threatening your system for the past three weeks. you make sure nobody can hear you and then wipe your tears with the spare tissues you carry in your bag. 
you leave, hoping nobody notices your red eyes. 
that night, you go to your room later than usual, counting on karina to be asleep. you should know better though because she's up, in nothing but her night shorts, sitting on your bed. 
it almost frustrates you for a moment, the sight of her curled up so comfortably on your bed like you were lovers. but you weren't. you weren't even close. but she perks up like maybe you are, calling out your name sweetly, "you're so late today. is everything okay?"
"yeah," you say, not making eye-contact for too long as you rest your bag on your desk. you contemplate leaving the room just so you didn't have to feel this hot volcano erupt in your chest. but instead, you undress, aware of karina's unwavering gaze. you make sure to slip off your pants and put on a baggy shirt. no shorts, like karina liked.
"we're a fully dressed person put together," she liked to joke when she'd bring your bodies close. you laughed along but all you wanted was to actually be one person with her. maybe that would justify why you were so attracted to her. 
"come on,," she coos when you jump into bed. "i know something's wrong. your eyes are red. your shoulders heavy."
"can't lie for one second with you, can i?" you sigh into her skin when she hugs you. 
"sorry, jagiya. maybe if i was a man, you could get away with it."
maybe that would make it easier. if one of you was a man. at least then someone would bat an eye at the concept of a no strings attached situationship between best friends. you were practically begging for someone to object to its apparently platonic nature. (you were begging yourself.)
"i didn't even shower," you complain when she explores your bare stomach with her fingers.
"it's fine. we'll just take one in the morning."
she holds you to the promise, waking you up half an hour earlier than usual just so she could drag you into the shower. two girls showering together, a sight nobody would see because it was dead quiet until an hour from now. 
– 
i try to be the chill girl 
you knew it was too good to be true, your friends-with-benefit situation with karina. but now that your feelings are actually catching up to you, you can barely hold in the tears that overwhelm you when you look at her.
then, when you finally decide to suck it up and show up to dinner with your friends, it all goes south. thanks to some dumb group project karina's doing, a guy named taeyong was at your table. you knew him by name from college gossip. he was fit to be the protagonist of a rom-com, nice guy with the looks to go with it and he was friendly, fitting right in with the group of friends. 
bitterly, you reflect on how long it had taken you, in comparison, to warm up to everyone. a month, maybe? plus, he looked perfect next to karina, their unusually good looks matching each other's quality.
you're not the only thinking that because geum pipes up, "you two look good together! when's the wedding?"
seowon hits his arm though most of the people on the table join in laughter. (you don't.) "come on, you can't force it, geum," she says, "they're clearly still getting to know each other."
"so it'll be official in say, a week from now?" minjeong teases, earning herself a blush from taeyong. karina is unruffled but she does smile a little at the teasing comments, side-eyeing the boy next to her.
right. they did look good together. 
much to your discomfort, karina and taeyong only seem to become closer, with the latter frequenting your table at every meal. he assimilated easily with the group, already circulating inside jokes that you were conveniently not a part of.
speaking of which you were circulating a word tornado yourself: casual, no attachement, chill, convenient, easy… not a big deal. as taeyong became a regular with your friends, you became increasingly absent, coming up with excuses to take your meals at much earlier or later hours.
you're officially spiraling, doing your best to avoid karina. but avoiding karina meant avoiding your friends. it was a harsh truth but you came to realize you were only friends with them because of her and if you decided to break things off with her, you'd also end up a loner.
it was a cold, miserable place to be in, your mind. you left your room early and came back late to karina asleep. she'd tried to stay up for your sake a few times but you'd made your arrivals later and later, until she gave up and went to sleep. 
you know you can only avoid her for so long before she caught you and grilled you but for now, you just had to come up with a way to keep yourself occupied. that afternoon, you get a text from her, asking to talk to you after dinner. you leave her on read for hours before texting back a quick "sure," afraid to go too far. you may be mad at karina for treating you in ways that left you confused, but you didn't actualy want to hurt her. 
but come the time when finally face her and you realize it may be too late. 
"so… why exactly have you been avoiding me?" more than anything, karina's voice is weary. she appears worried when you first take a seat across from her but when you don't look like you're in actual physical pain, her expression morphs into one of frustration.
"i'm not," you sigh, "i'm just busy."
"busy during every single meal? busy enough to leave before i wake up?"
"i'm taking more classes than usual," you say and though it's the truth, it's far from being the reason why you were acting this way. karina seems to know this. 
"i'm taking an art class that has me staying back in the studio till 11," she tells you. only then, you notice the black charcoal marking her cheek. "but i still come home."
"sorry," you mumble, averting your gaze. "i'm not– you didn't do anything. i'm just… thinking through some things. i'll come back to the room earlier today."
"great, so now we're not close enough for you to share your thoughts with me?" this time karina actually sounds hurt. it was the indication of your friendship finally falling apart that has her sitting forward, eyes blinking in panic. "y/n, what the fuck?"
what the fuck, indeed. you try your best to reassure karina but it seems like she's done talking to you after that point so you see yourself out. a small part of you manages to wonder whose jacket was laid across the chair next to her. taeyong?
you find the answer the hard way when you come back to your room at a reasonable hour for the first time in a week. only to run into taeyong himself.
he seems like he's in a hurry when you step in, rushing to put his jacket on (yes, the jacket that you saw next to karina earlier today) and avoiding your gaze. you don't even pretend to seem pleased encounter him there.
you fix your glare on karina, kneeling on her bed. she lets out a sigh when she sees you. "you're finally back."
you watch as taeyong leaves without a goodbye and you scoff, "i feel like i interrupted something. maybe i shouldn't have come back." you feel the blood rush to your head, all your convictions to lay out your unreciprocated feelings out to karina because she deserved an explanation.
right now, you just feel empty. and mad. so as soon as you rest your bag, you get to changing. but not into your night clothes.
"are you going somewhere?"
"...maybe."
"and what happened to our talk earlier?"
with a huff of disbelief, you throw your sweaty shirt on your bedroom floor. "well, i decided it meant nothing when i saw that guy leaving our room."
"taeyong?" karina looks baffled and you want to shake some sense into her so bad.
"yeah, i don't know, karina, the thought of you already replacing me with some dude–" you cut yourself off when your voice breaks. "it's not a great feeling. so i'm just gonna leave."
"wait, what?" karina jumps out of her bed. "is this what you've been mad about all week?"
you pause your angry movements about your space when she comes close to you, touching your arm, first contact in days. you breathe unevenly, "karina, i just need some time–"
"are you crying, jagiya?"
you want to say it's stupid nickname that gets to your nerves finally breaking your walls down. but really, it's the warmth in her tone, the sound of her breath hitting your ear so close. you'd missed karina. that's why you end up sobbing, arms finding her neck to support you. 
"karina, i'm–" she rubs your back calmly through your sobs. "i'm sorry."
"what's wrong, baby? why are you crying? please, talk to me."
"i think… i'm in love with you."
your confession is quiet, just like your love for karina has always been. actually no, that's what you want to think but no, your love is loud: you look for her in every room you enter, hands already welcoming hers when she runs over to you. you're the first to laugh at her jokes, no matter how nonsensical or how many times she's told them to you. you may be a flustered mess when things got intimate, but you always made sure karina felt good, too – going far beyond your comfort zone to please her.
karina pulls away with a soft gasp. "that's not what i expected you to say."
"i know," you sniffle. "but it's been killing me. i know you wanted to keep things casual. and i know you and taeyong are–"
"okay, just so we're clear for once and for all– there is nothing between me and taeyong."
you freeze in shock, having been rock-solid in your assumption of their relationship. "what?"
"come on, i barely know the guy. but apparently, everyone's teasing got to his head," karina sighs, "he came here to confess to me earlier today. and i rejected him."
now his urgency to leave the room makes even more sense, you realize slowly. but you realize another thing: karina had looked cold when you'd entered, ending things with him clearly. yet, here you were, standing with her arms around your waist as if you hadn't declared your love for her.
"...and?" you prod her, biting your lip hopefully.
"and?" karina echoes you, eyes locking in yours to understand your hint. "oh, you wanna know how i feel?"
you nod coyly, a stray tear falling down your cheek as if on cue. 
"well, let's start with a recap of this week. you ignored me so i felt like shit for most of it. and then you ignored me some more and i had to go to sleep lonely and sad. then, you stopped showing for meals so i didn't even want to eat anymore. what happened next? oh right, this evening. i had to practically beg you to talk to me–"
"okay, i get the idea!" you stop her with a groan, "i'm sorry, but i clearly had good reason to act the way i did."
"did you?" karina is suddenly holding your face, smiling turning bittersweet. "you idiot."
"huh?"
"i wanted to keep things casual because i wasn't sure how you felt about me. i wanted you to keep your options open till someone who you actually liked came along–"
"but–"
"this was long before i knew you were into me like that. you're really hard to read, you know? but yeah, i kept things casual because i'm selfish. i wanted to sleep with the girl i love without losing her friendship. i was obviously an–"
"idiot!" you hit karina's arm repeatedly at her revelation, tears filling up your vision yet again. "you love me?! why would you do that to me, then? are you–"
karina catches your fists in her with a heave, "i know, i know. i'm sorry, jagiya. but–" she brings your first to her chest, exposed by the deep neck of the tank she wore to sleep. "i'm serious about you, okay? i didn't want to gamble someone i cherished over some fucking around."
your body feels weak now that the truth is out in the open. you lean into karina. "you're so mean," you say into her neck, "i thought… you were chill."
she laughs at your complaint, "sorry. i'm dumb. dumb in love?"
you let karina coax you into her bed that night, kissing your body free of the tension you'd carried all that week like she was nursing you back to health. you can't help the tears that escape at her sweet touch, not new for her by any means – but different for you nevertheless, now that you knew how she felt. later that night, when you're falling asleep in her arms, in her twin bed this time, you feel her snuggle closer. warm nose against your cold cheek, she kisses you goodnight. (and a soft love you that you can barely distinguish from a dream.)
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beneathashadytree · 6 months ago
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We need double fish dick sizes /j
And you shall get them nonnie!! I hadn’t thought of them before, but when you sent in this ask I sat down and brainstormed for a hot minute, so here come the headcanons I have about Rafayel’s Lemurian form‼️ NSFW ahead, obviously, monsterfucking tropes (literally nothing is realistic here), and reader is gender-neutral!
To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just my ramblings, or old requests I had🫶🏽
Tip jar!
Masterlist
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Now, Rafayel’s Lemurian form has an entirely different lower half, obviously, so it does make sense that finer details of his anatomy change too
I would say that he has two… appendages, not cocks per se, and I’ll explain this in a minute
What does resemble a human cock, is really nothing short of absolutely pleasurably torturous, and would be quite literally physically impossible for a normal human to take
10 inches in length, and that’s just me trying to censor things a little… so yes, no one can take him to the hilt (let’s be —ironically—realistic, people)
Girth is pretty complicated, and here’s why:
He’s got a really wide, flared base, but it’s rather thin there, and then he grows narrow in width until his tip
After the flared base, he’s actually got a rounder circumference, so while the base feels more of a stretch, his actual length is what makes them feel so full once he’s buried inside them
Rafayel’s cock has a delicious upward curve near his tip, and it’s made all the better by the slightly angular curves to the mushroom-head
Bonus points for the thick vein that runs along the underside! It’s almost ridge-like, and pairs perfectly with the slight ridges along the sides
I’m a firm believer in the fact that everything related to Rafayel is insanely pretty, so yes, even his Lemurian cock is bathed in gorgeous shades of deep purple, lavender, and a sweet bubblegum pink that flushes a deeper fuschia when he’s past his breaking point of arousal
Now that we’ve gotten his Lemurian cock out of the way, let’s talk about his second—but no less pleasurable—“member” so to speak
I imagine that he hides both under a well-hidden flap along his tail’s midline, right where his human crotch would be, so once that’s pulled back and his cock coaxed into full hardness, you can find his second tentacle-like cock underneath it
It’s thin, even more so than his human cock, is roughly 12 inches long (not very practical, but nothing about his devastatingly beautiful Lemurian form is) and a lot more flexible than you would think—which is good for its two uses
The first is prepping his beloved to take him, which is definitely no easy feat for anyone
He produces a lot of water-resistant slick there, which can help lubricate them easily in order to make the slide more comfortable for them, but it has the side effect of acting almost as an aphrodisiac, which (if in someone whose body can’t take that) may lead to it being too draining to keep up with him and their combined insanely high libidos at the moment
The second—which ties to the first—is that it makes it easier to curl inside his lover and reach their most pleasurable sweet spot, causing them to naturally gush around him and pull orgasm after orgasm before he could even attempt to slip inside their warmth
Again, Rafayel’s Lemurian form is dictated by his biology more often than not, so it’s no surprise that his cum is thicker (to avoid being washed away) and comes out in copious amounts, all for breeding purposes
The Lemurian race was dying out long before they were threatened by external factors and such, so procreation was a very important part of their mating rituals
You can toss that aside though, because it’s purely biological and will only be determined by whether or not his partner can and/or would want something like that; for Rafayel now it’s simply an instinct to be closer and rut deeper into them, so much so that they can’t tell where he ends and they begin
His cum looks quite pearlescent and actually pretty breathtaking, oddly enough; I truly believe it glimmers a little, especially if you look at it under the moonlight and catch the almost gem-like shimmers in its stickiness
Fair warning, it’s quite salty in terms of taste (though not hazardous in composition; he’s all about safety first you know!) and may be a little too much the first time his lover tries to swallow his release down
But that’s nothing a few kitten licks at his pulsating tip won’t acclimate them to, even if it does earn a strangled, breathy moan from him and him shooting his second load of the night on their tongue 🫶🏽
All in all, having sex or even just foreplay with Rafayel’s Lemurian form is overwhelming in the best ways possible—and definitely not for the faint-hearted!!
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anyamaris · 6 months ago
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Reciprocity
Summary- Your unrequited crush on Hoseok seems to have played itself out as you overhear a conversation between him and Yoongi. But Yoongi has a secret of his own to tell you.
Word Count- 11372
Pairing- Yoongi x F!Reader (x Hoseok in a way?)
Trope- Friends to lovers au, smut/angst
Warnings- Unrequited love, a bit of a love triangle? Adult language, vulgarity, unprotected sex, lots of smutty things, minors DNI 18+++
Tags- @ksmutsociety @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark @millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions @changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo @woosanbby @frenchkisstheabyss
@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍
A/N- Well this started out as a Hoseok fic....but Yoongi kind of took over? This is my first attempt at a BTS fic so please be kind. Thank you to @kwanisms for the gorgeous header and to @frenchkisstheabyss for beta reading all of this process and encouraging me...this wouldn't have been written without you!!
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“What do you mean?” You hear the familiar sound of Hoseok’s voice from the other room as you walk in.  
Smiling, you open your mouth to announce yourself, but the next words have you clamping it shut. 
“She’s just my friend, I don’t see her that way.” 
Curious, you set the bag of food down on the coffee table in the living room, wondering who he’s talking about.  
“Liar, I see how you two are together.  You’ve been friends for ages, and I can tell-”
“I’m not lying.  Seriously, man-maybe you’re projecting.  She’s just my friend.  As if I could ever see her as a woman.” 
Hoseok’s laugh at that last line has your heart dropping two stories below the apartment, the tingle of hurt burning the back of your throat.  
“Hobi-” You can hear the tightness of Yoongi’s voice as you try to calm the tsunami in your stomach.  
“Why are you so intent on matchmaking us? It’s not like you, dude. Stop meddling, it’s weird.”
“As long as you say so, man. I just figured I’d check before-” 
Their voices halt the moment you begin to make noises, unwilling to hear your two friends talk about you like that. 
You already felt invasive enough having listened in on that little bit.
Fighting down the tears pricking the back of your eyes, you manage to call out to them.  
“I’m back with food!”  
You’re certain your voice is normal as you make your way into the kitchen, settling the bag down on the counter to pull out containers for everyone.  
“Come eat while it’s warm…” you manage, ignoring the two men as they wander out from Hoseok’s bedroom.  
“That was quick…” Yoongi mutters, and you don’t catch the glare he throws at Hoseok.
Shrugging, the latter man comes over to give you a big smile.  
“Want to eat in here or the living room?” Hoseok asks, nudging your shoulder playfully as you finish unpacking the food.  
Trying to school your features, you just shrug, glancing over at Yoongi.  
He’s just looking between you, eyes narrowed before he sighs and finally shrugs back at you.  
“Whatever works, I’m just hungry.” Yoongi grabs a carton of noodles to sniff it, glancing around at the little buffet you’d brought.
“Thanks for the food.” he says, shooting Hoseok another look as he hovers beside you, bumping into you as he picks through the array.  
After you all eat your fill and clean up the kitchen, you find yourself on the couch beside Hoseok as he rambles on about his day.
Eyeing him, you can’t help but think about what he’d said earlier.
“As if I could ever see her as a woman.” 
As long as you’ve been friends with the man, he’s always been playful and flirtatious with you.  
While that was all fine with you, there were times that you could swear there was something more.  
That he may have something beyond just your close friendship.
That he may feel the same way that you do for him.
The crush you’d had on him existed long before you’d called him your best friend.  
Long nights talking about everything and anything, lingering on the phone even after one or the other passed out.
How he’d show up after he’d heard you had a bad day, bringing you your favorite coffee or treat.  
How willing he’s always been to make you smile.  
Yes, that’s what friends are for.  
They care for you in your bad times, as well as the good.
You’ve told yourself this so often that you’d convinced yourself at this point.
You’d had to, the silly crush you had on him had slowly become true feelings.
Feelings you’d been struggling to suppress because your friendship had always meant more to you.  
Yet, he was always cuddling with you, touching you, brushing back your hair….
The flirtatious nature of how you were together had of course been noticed by all of your friend group as well.  
Yoongi asking Hoseok about it was nothing new either, so that’s not what bothered you.
Even as much as you’d told yourself that you were only friends, hearing him say that he couldn’t even see you as a woman had your heart dying in your chest.
It shouldn’t hurt, you’ve told yourself that very thing night after night after he’d done something to get your pulse racing, your emotions stirring in ways you couldn’t ignore.
Lost in your thoughts, you jump as you feel Hoseok’s breath on your ear.
“Whatcha thinking about?”  He asks and you turn to look at him, swallowing heavily.
There it was-that cheerful smile.  
The one that always had you wondering how you would ever survive being around him.
“Nothing.” You mumble, turning to glance at Yoongi, pulling back to put some distance between you.
“How’s your work going?” you ask, pretending not to notice how Yoongi shoots yet another look at Hoseok.  
Before he can answer, there’s a knock at the door and you eagerly jump up to get it.
You’re not sure if you can handle Hoseok’s touchiness tonight.
Not while you were still reeling from his painful words.
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“Hey, are you ignoring me? You’d better be free that night, what would I do without my bestie beside me?”
You just sigh at the text, chewing your lip as you ponder how to deal with him.
Your writing had been taking a toll ever since your mood had plummeted.  
After that evening, you’d recovered some from the hurt.  
You’d known that you two were only friends, but apparently there was a part of you that had clung onto a small bit of hope that he’d secretly felt something more for you.
At least you had your answer to that now, you keep telling yourself.  
Don’t act weird, you think, shaking your head at how ridiculous and emotional you were over something you knew already.
Flirtations or not, he’d never attempted to do anything beyond just that.  
Don’t be a greedy bitch, and don’t whine about stupid shit, you think to yourself.
“Fine, fine, but you’re buying the drinks.” You send him, smirking.
“DEAL!” he sends back with his typical emojis, making you laugh despite the ache.  
Checking the rest of your messages, you manage to see a missed text from Yoongi.
“Huh, weird…”  you mutter, opening it.  
“Hey, so…are you free sometime this week for coffee or lunch?”  
You frown at the text, tilting your head in wonder.
Curious, as Yoongi wasn’t one to reach out suddenly for no reason, you just message back:
“Sure, I can meet whenever you’re free.  Is everything okay?” 
It’s a bit before you get a response, which was typical for the man, as he was always doing something in his studio.
“Yeah…just wanted to talk to you about something personal.” 
His response has your curiosity peaking, and you immediately respond back to him.
“Well, let me know when you have the time and I’ll come meet you wherever!”
Interesting, you think.  
Yoongi and you had been friends for as long as you and Hoseok, but you’d never developed the same kind of closeness.
Mostly because of how different they are, of course.
Yoongi is reserved, a bit more quiet and serious.  
He rarely spends a lot of alone time with you, so something must be up if he’s asking for a one on one.
Hoseok is cheerful and upbeat, talkative and he never shies away from physical touch with you.
Frowning, you realize that’s part of what got you into this mess in the first place.
It’s not his fault that I have inappropriate feelings for him, you chastise yourself.
You take a moment longer to read the next text from Yoongi, responding that he will text you when he has time.
Setting down your phone, you turn to your laptop to see if you can break through the writer’s block today.
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You make your way inside the quiet little coffee shop, glancing around to see if Yoongi was inside yet.  
None of the tables were taken, and there was a lone barista behind the bar, cleaning.
I must be early, you think, checking the time.  
Figuring you’ll get drinks while you wait for him, you make your way to the counter.
“Hello, what can I get started for you?” The man asks, and you place your order, deciding to get something for Yoongi as well.  
By the time the young man is setting your two drinks on the counter, you hear the chime over the door ring.
“Hey, sorry, I got held up at the last minute.  Freaking Taehyung and Jungkook and their normal antics.” He grimaces.
You can’t help but grin, knowing all too well how hard it was to escape the little menaces.  
“No problem, here I got you a drink already.” You hold it out to him, his eyes lighting up as he takes it.  
“Thank you…my intention was to buy your drink, but you beat me to it.” He smiles, gesturing to the open tables. 
Choosing a two seater by the window, you slip into the chair as he does the same across from you.
“So, how is work going? Super busy?” You start as he sets his coffee on the table.
He sighs, running a hand over his face as he glances out the window, nodding.
“Always, and those two little-” he begins, then shakes his head.
“Anyhow, it’s nice to get away.  How is your writing going?” He inquires, leaning forward as he turns to face you fully.  
Letting out your own sigh, you look down to toy with the lid of your cup.  
“Eh…I’ve had better weeks of writing. Lately….” you let the words drift off, just giving a small shrug to fill the void.
You notice his frown as he studies you, concern in his eyes as he tilts his head.
“Lately? Did something happen? What’s going on?” He asks, his sudden worry apparent.
Waving him off, you take another sip of your drink.
“Oh…just…things.  Life.” You try to smile, “Just stupid thoughts and trying to work through something.  But it’s nothing important.” 
You try to look reassuring but the concern stays on his face.  
“What about you? You said you had something personal to talk about?” Changing the subject was the best bet, you think.
“Mmmm….” he hums, his voice deep and low as he seems to ponder how to start.
“I…well…” he chews his lip, glancing down, then back up at you.  
“We’ve been friends for a while, right?” He asks, taking you off guard.  
You merely nod, thinking for a moment before you respond, “Eight years, yeah.”
He nods once at your answer, studying you before glancing away again.  
“You haven’t…dated anyone since we’ve all been friends.” He says and you furrow your brow at him.
“I mean…no…I actually haven’t.” You mumble, frowning, worried about where this is going.
“How come?” he asks bluntly.
You can only blink at him with a blank expression.  
“Not to be rude but…I thought you wanted to talk about something personal?” You deflect, wondering why he’s suddenly so curious about your dating life.
His cheeks flush pink and he looks down at his cup as he idly spins it on the table.
Clearing his throat, he manages to say, “Well…yes, this is personal…” 
Glancing around the little shop, you try to think of how to word it. 
It’s not like you can blurt out, “Because I’m in love with Hobi.” Because…just no.  
“It’s…complicated, I suppose.” you finally respond, tapping your foot against the table leg.  
His eyes meet yours, flicking back and forth as they seem to want to see beyond your evasive answer.
“I have you guys, why do I need to date? I guess the right person just hasn’t presented themselves.”
He hums, leaning back to watch you as you speak.  
“You mean you have Hoseok?” He asks simply, causing you to choke on the sip you were taking.  
Reaching for a napkin to clean up the coffee that shot out of your nose, you dab at your face as he watches you with a serious look.  
“I don’t-” you start but he puts up a hand, shaking his head.
“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t notice how you two are together, everyone has asked at some point if you two are a couple.” He says softly, his words obviously not intending to hurt but damn, do they.
You just take a moment to tamp down on the surge of pain at the reality of things versus what everyone “thinks”.  
“Yeah well…he has a way of making people think that, doesn’t he?” The bitterness in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi, who leans forward once more.
“Is this why you asked me to come out, Yoongi? To talk about my personal life?” You say a bit more harshly than you intended, wiping up the little droplets of coffee off the table to distract yourself.
“Hey-not…like that.  I’m not trying to…” he waves his hands around, flustered at your reaction.  
“Look, I heard you two talking the other night, alright? I’m very well aware of how  he sees me, so it matters little what I think about anything, doesn’t it?”  You tell him, finally looking up at him.
His frown tugs down even more now as he reaches out to place his hand over yours.  
Sighing, he shakes his head.  
“I didn’t mean for you to hear that…I’m sorry-” 
Cutting him off, you blurt out, “He doesn’t even see me as a woman, so-” 
“Well he’s fucking stupid then.” Yoongi counters, almost growling the words as he spits them out.
You can’t even think of what to say, shocked at the tone of his voice, the anger in his dark eyes as he squeezes your hand in his.
“I swear, I wanted to slap the smile off his face the other day when he said that to me,” he continues.
“How could anyone not see you as a woman? It’s fucking rude to say something so disrespectful, even if he thought you couldn’t hear him. I don’t care if we’re friends or more.” 
You swallow the pain at the memory, but the fact that Yoongi is getting so defensive for your sake has a warm feeling blossoming in the pit of your stomach.  
You manage to blink away the tears threatening to slip from your eye as you listen to his tirade.  
“He can think whatever he wants…” You mutter, glancing out the window to watch the people walk by, life going on outside of this painful conversation.
“Well, he doesn’t need to be so blunt about shit like that.  He’s the one always clinging to you like you belong to him-” Yoongi almost snarls out, but he stops, sighing as he blinks down at his drink.  
“Well, for the record, I don’t belong to anyone.” You tell him, intrigued and curious about his reaction to everything.  
You swear he almost sounds-
“I sound jealous, don’t I?” He says, a humorless laugh accompanying the words.  
“You sound like you just didn’t like what he said, I wouldn’t think you were jealous, Yoongi.” You tell him, giving him a reassuring smile.
He pauses as he looks down at your hand beneath his own, rubbing his fingers along yours.
“What if I were to say I was jealous?” He asks, continuing to look down before he raises his gaze to meet yours.  
It seems as if time stops in the tiny cafe as his words echo through your head.   
Jealous?
Yoongi?
“Yoongi, I’m not in the mood for jokes today.” You sigh out.
He purses his lips, his jaw working as he holds your gaze.
“I like you.” 
Your heart stutters, his sudden confession taking you completely by surprise.  
There wasn’t a glimmer of humor in his eyes.
Not an ounce of teasing in his tone.
He slips his hand off yours, leaning back as if he expects an outburst, but he never takes his eyes from yours.
Your mind is reeling at the idea that he’s being deadly serious.
Min Yoongi just confessed to you.
Yoongi…the serious, stoic friend you’d had for years.
When you don’t immediately respond, he just wipes a hand over his face.
“I wasn’t trying to be intrusive when I asked him about how he felt about you the other day.” He admits, finally breaking eye contact to look out the window, tching with his tongue as he considers his next words.
“Honestly, for years, everyone has had the idea that the two of you had some secret relationship going on.  That you just were being completely quiet about it, though to us it seemed very obvious.”  
You glance down at the hand he was just holding, feeling as if you’re floating in some weird alternate universe.  
Hearing how you and Hoseok had been viewed, mixed with the fact that Yoongi has had feelings for you….
You try your best not to zone out, hanging on his words as he continues.
“Of course, if that was the case, I’d be happy for the two of you.  You’re my friend, first and foremost.  Despite how I feel about you.”  
The low timbre of his voice lulls the pain of what he’s talking about a bit.
You’d always loved his voice, especially when it dropped low and deep like this.
Eyeing him as he watches the people walk by, you tilt your head to look at him in this new light as he talks.
It wasn’t a secret that you found all of your friends extremely attractive, every single one.  
Sometimes it felt almost unreasonable how handsome they all were, and you’d told them as much on many occasions.  
You certainly weren’t afraid to voice that opinion, it was just a fact at this point.  
It had just been so easy to look beyond the physical with all of them and Hoseok had definitely always been right up close, demanding all of your attention.
Never once past getting close with all the guys did you consider that any could have feelings for you, with the exception of Hobi of course.
“You…like me?” You finally respond, your entire worldview turning on it’s head.  
He winces at your words, turning back to meet your gaze.  
Pursing his lips, he merely nods.  
“I’m sorry if it’s abrupt, and if it upsets you at all.” he says softly, reaching out to grab his cup to drink from.  
“So the conversation you had with Hoseok….” you let the question linger as he sets his cup back down.  
He clucks his tongue, nodding gently as he finishes the thought.
“I figured if there was something between you two, if there was no hope…” he shrugs, chewing his lip as he looks down.
His words feel so very close to how you’ve been feeling lately about Hoseok, hitting you harder than you expect.
“Then you’d know…then you could let go.” You say without thinking, blinking at having uttered the words out loud.
His dark gaze meets yours, understanding passing between the two of you as he nods.
“I was shocked, honestly.  When he said nothing had ever happened between you.  But when he said-” he stops, his jaw clenching.  
You only manage an anemic smile as he continues, shrugging off the almost familiar pain.
“I’m not good at this kind of thing.” he tells you, “Confessing…admitting to you how I feel.”
You can’t help but feel a smile creep across your face as his cheeks tinge with a blush, unable to feel anything but excitement at his bravery.
“Yoongi-”  You start, but he stops you before you can say more. 
“Look…I asked him because I wanted to know how he felt about you.  If there was something there that I shouldn’t touch. On his side.” 
You just nod, understanding his logic with that.
“I want you to know that…telling you this, I don’t expect anything to come of it.  I know we’ve been friends a very long time and…I doubt you’ve ever seen me in that way.” 
Before you can respond, he only gives you a look and you let him continue speaking before saying anything.
He fiddles with his now empty cup, seeming to be turning over how he’s going to proceed.
“I’ve had feelings for you for a while now.  I thought eventually that they’d fade away and I wouldn’t have to deal with them.” he shrugs a shoulder as he says this.
His words still stun you, even though he’s already admitted to liking you.  
“Now I know how he feels about you, but I also want to ask you the same thing.  If it’s not too intrusive, of course.” he says, watching you closely.
You swallow the immediate urge to deflect and deny your true emotions for Hobi.  
But Yoongi was being completely honest with you, not to mention the courage it was taking to confess like this.
It felt dishonorable to lie at this point.
Feeling your cheeks heat, you can only let out a shaky sigh as you build up the courage to admit your true feelings out loud.
“I …. I have had emotions for Hoseok for a long time.” You finally say, watching him as closely as he’s watching you now.
He blanches a bit, but he seems unsurprised as he nods.
“I had the feeling that was the case.” he mumbles, his eyes narrowing as he glances out the window, his tongue in his cheek.
“It’s not like I expected anything, but…” you can only spread your hands out, as if to say, it is what it is.
“So his words the other day must have hurt.” He says, as a statement rather than a question.  
Feeling the slight ache at the memory, you can only nod as you shrug a shoulder.  
“It did, but it’s not as if I expected anything else. He’s never expressed any interest in me.”  
Yoongi’s head snaps around to look at you, his eyes narrowing even more.  
“Don’t lie to yourself, it’s obvious that he’s encouraged your feelings.  Even if it’s been unintentional.  I can’t tell you how much that pisses me off, now that I know how you feel.”  
His words seem to snap something inside of you, and suddenly he’s sitting forward as he reaches out to you, his eyes widening.  
“Hey…shit I’m so fucking sorry-” 
It takes you a moment to realize that tears are streaming down your face, and you’ve been holding your breath.  
He is out of his chair in a heartbeat, suddenly kneeling beside you, using a napkin to gently dab at your cheeks.  
You let out a shaky breath, intending to tell him it’s alright, that you’re fine but the moment you open your mouth, only a sob escapes.
“Damn it, I came here to admit my own feelings and here I am, hurting you.”  His voice is laced with anger, directed at himself.
Shaking your head, you just cover your mouth, trying to not draw the concern of the poor barista as you try to compose yourself.  
“No-” you choke out, looking down at the deep, concerned eyes of Yoongi.  
“Can I…?” He gestures awkwardly with his arms, and you immediately nod, slipping into his hug.  
“Shhh, hey, it’s alright.  I’m so sorry I’m digging up painful things for you, I never intended to upset you.”
You cling to him, gripping the back of his leather jacket as you try your best to collect yourself.
He rubs a hand down your spine as he continues to soothe you with small, simple words, giving you time to calm down.
“You-didn’t.” you finally manage, pulling back as you wipe at your face.  
You take in his pain filled eyes, and it’s an odd feeling to be filled with wonder at his sympathy and care all while wanting to bawl your eyes out over Hoseok at the same time.  
“I-I’m just confused, and frustrated.  At myself, mostly.” You say, trying to laugh.
“At yourself?” He asks, still kneeling before you, holding you at arms length as he reaches out to wipe away an errant tear.  
You just nod, taking in a deep breath.
“Yeah, I know he and I are only friends, so it’s stupid to think of anything else between us.”  
His eyes darken as he grimaces at your words, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear.
“Hey, don’t do that.  Your emotions are valid, even if you don’t want to have them.  It’s not something we have much control over, believe me.” He smiles but you can tell he’s empathizing more than he’s letting on.
This man had just confessed to you and here he was, comforting you over another man.  
Your head spins from the day's events, feeling overwhelmed from it all.
“Yoongi…” you start and he hums in askance.
Unable to stop yourself, you reach out to cup his cheek, almost laughing at the shocked and panicked look that washes over his face.
“Things have been…confusing.” you tell him, and he can only nod, but he leans into your hand as you continue.
“I’ve known for a long time that Hoseok doesn’t have feelings for me.  That…it’s in my head.” You admit, albeit sadly.
His lips thin into a line, but you continue before he can say anything.
“I’m still processing this…” you gesture with your free hand.  “It’s the last thing I expected…especially from you.” 
He raises his eyebrows, tilting his head at your admission.  
“Especially from me?” He asks softly.
You just smirk and nod, “Yes, especially from you.  You’ve never given me the impression that you’ve…been interested.” 
He just grins, and you still with shock over just how ridiculously sheepish and handsome he looks kneeling before you.  
Maybe...there was something here.  
Something you never considered because you’ve been blinded by Hoseok standing in the way.
Before you can jump on that train of thought, you manage to focus on what you were trying to say.
“Would you be willing to give me some time?” You ask him quietly.
His eyes widen and you can see him trying to fight back a smile at your words.  
“You…you’re not outright rejecting me?” He asks in surprise.
Smiling at his shock, you merely shake your head.
“No, I’m not.  But...knowing I have feelings for someone else has to have you lose some  interest.” You tell him, not even posing it as a question.  
You know it’s not something most people would tolerate.
“Hey…I’ve had a feeling that you two had a thing at some point.  It didn’t make me any less interested in you. And…I’ll be honest…” His eyes graze over you slowly, causing your face to flush at the deepening of his voice.
But it’s nothing compared to how his next words turn your world upside down.
“I’ve always seen you as a woman.  And not just any woman…an intelligent, strong and beautiful woman.”
His fingers brush your cheek, collecting the tear that leaks down your face as he gives you his signature lopsided smile.
“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere, alright?”
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Time seems to fly by, yet it feels as if you’re trudging along in a slow fog all at once.
Since your coffee meeting with Yoongi, your emotions have been all over the place.
The one good thing about being in this state is that your writing block is nonexistent.
After getting home from your talk, you’d naturally gone to your laptop and opened it, your thoughts racing like mad.
On a whim, you just started writing.
Pouring your heart out into the void of white on your screen, tears blurring your eyes as you let your imagination work through some of the confusion and stress that had been building.
Knowing this would never see the light of day, you just ran with it; allowing your frustrations out on your fictional characters as day bled into night, then into day again.
Picking up your mug, you pause as you realize that it’s empty.  
Glancing around, you blink at the morning sun peeking through the blinds, suddenly feeling a yawn claw its way out as you stretch and crack your neck.
6:44am, the clock seems to judge you with its ticking second hand.  
Well…you’ve definitely gotten quite a lot of work done, even if it’s never going to become anything.
Standing to stretch out your back, you glance around at your empty apartment.
The tension headache you’d developed over the last week still lingered, but you felt a bit lighter now that you’ve worked through the swirl of emotions that had been threatening to drown you.
Padding into the kitchen, you turn on your electric kettle and lean against the counter to wait, thinking back on the way you’d left things with Yoongi.  
His words still didn’t seem real, and you can’t help but think about him on his knees before you.
His long dark hair hanging in his eyes, one side tucked behind his ear.
Eyes narrowed, biting his lip as he professed his concern for you.  
It would be a bold faced lie to say you’d never looked at him as a woman does a man.
You and your girlfriends had often had some seriously depraved conversations about the men in your friends group, but you felt that was only natural.
You hung out with a group of handsome men, who wouldn’t give them the once over and imagine?
When you’d all first started hanging out, it was impossible to not find them all attractive.  
Have you ever even considered Yoongi?
For certain you’d appreciated his looks, his deep voice, his laid back demeanor.  
But from the beginning, it was always Hoseok’s sunny smile taking up your entire vision.
Gorgeous, cheerful, energetic-you had both been drawn to each other in a way you couldn’t explain.  
It was easy to get sucked into his energy, to let yourself get swept away.  
Before long, you and Hoseok were best friends, sharing everything with one another.
All of your friends were convinced that one day you’d just announce that you were together.  
Yet here you were, eight years later, hearing that he didn’t even see you as a woman.
That sentence just stuck like popcorn lodged in your gums; the more you teased at it and tried to dig it out, the more painful it became.
Then Yoongi out of the blue drops that bomb on you.
As much as you know you have to work through these emotions for Hoseok, you can’t help but think about how there’s really nothing to get over.
You never had anything together.
Sure, he flirted and teased.
Yeah, he almost always had to touch you, be next to you.
But…there was nothing more.
Not one kiss.
Not even an “almost anything”.  
In the end, it seems like it was just his way of being your best friend and you resent that you feel like he’s hurt you in some way.
He hadn’t done anything wrong and there wasn’t even anything to be angry at.
Sighing, you pour some hot water over a teabag, forcing your thoughts away from Hoseok for the moment.
Your last conversation with Yoongi replays in your mind as you steep your tea, a small warmth blooming in your stomach at the memory.
Not much had been said that hadn’t been talked about over coffee; he’d walked you home as you both awkwardly discussed going forward.
“I hope you don’t feel any pressure to give me an answer-” He’d said as you approached your building.
His hands were in his pockets, dark strands dangling as he kicked at the pavement outside of your building.
It was a rare sight to see Min Yoongi being shy and nervous, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at him.
Stepping forward, you’d drawn his gaze, his eyebrows raising as you cut him off.  
“Yoongi, do you want to come over sometime this week and watch a movie?”
Your words had shut him up for a solid thirty seconds as he blinked at your invitation.
“Eh?” He finally managed, then he was tilting his head in confusion.  “I thought you needed time?”
“Time to think about things, yes.  But that doesn’t mean we can’t hang out.  Unless you’d rather not-” 
“No-I mean, yes, sure, I’d love to come watch a movie.”
Even now, you can’t help but smile at the delight in his dark eyes before he looked away, even as he clucked his tongue and cleared his throat.
Shuffling back to your cozy chair, you check your phone and notice a bunch of missed texts.  
Of course, you think, opening the familiar name on the screen.
“Whatcha doing?”
“Hey, are you sleeping?”
“I bet you’re writing and you have no idea what time it is! GO TO SLEEP!” 
Shaking your head and smiling, you just ignore Hoseok’s texts for now, scrolling through the others just checking in and saying hello.
Reluctantly, you make your way to your room, slightly annoyed that Hoseok knew you well enough to call it.
“Jerk.” You mutter, curling up with your blankets and drifting off.
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“I swear, you guys just want something to gossip about.”  Hoseok scolded the nosy men in the room.  
“Don’t lump me in with them.” Namjoon says, turning his back to ignore the chatty trio.  
“Really, though, what would happen if she got a boyfriend?”  Jimin was asking, glancing at Taehyung as if to ask him for backup.  
Hoseok just leans back, sighing as he rests his hands behind him.  
“Then I would congratulate her and wish her well.”  He shoots back without hesitation, shaking his head.
He ignores the looks the two share, nodding at Yoongi as he makes his way into the practice room.
“Really? Just like that?” Taehyung asks, disbelief in his voice.
“Just like that.” Hoseok responds, shrugging his shoulders.  “You’re all overly concerned with my personal life right now.”
Yoongi stays silent, merely observing as they continue their conversation.  
“So, if-” Taehyung begins but Hoseok groans in annoyance, giving him a dark look that stops his question.
“If you’re not going to focus on practice-” He growls, causing the two to scramble and make excuses about things they need to do.
“What is it with these questions lately?” Hoseok mumbles, shaking his head as he stands to resume his choreography.  
Yoongi just grunts in response as he turns to focus on his own work.
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Answering the door, you smile as you’re greeted with Yoongi’s familiar smiling face.  
Opening the door wider to allow him in, you can’t help but admire how handsome and soft he looks.
He’s wearing a loose grey sweater and jeans, and his long dark hair is pulled up into a half ponytail.  
Honestly, he looks...really sexy.
“I brought snacks.” He says, holding up the bag as he walks in and takes off his shoes.  
“Great!” You respond, taking the bag to the kitchen to put into little bowls so you can enjoy them during your show.
It’s been almost a month now that he’s been coming over for a movie night, making this number five.  
They weren’t dates, necessarily.  
Nothing had happened.
You’ve talked, laughed, watched movies, dramas, music videos.
Chatted about work, food, life in general.
Everything but touched on the topic that started all of this.
The respect he has had for you has been amazing, not once asking about your feelings towards anything, never inquiring about Hoseok or being intrusive in any way.
And he almost always sat with something between the two of you on the large couch, you think, watching him make his way to his normal spot.
Much had changed in a month, yet it also felt as if you were in this kind of limbo with Yoongi.
Of course, you were well aware that you were the one who asked for time.  
Hoseok had started to notice the little things as well.
Once upon a time, you’d have been on the phone with him at least a few times a week, ranting about your most recent writing project, or listening to him talk about dance practice and everything in between.
Those calls had slowly dwindled as you found yourself focusing more on yourself, on your work, on learning how to exist without him being your primary focus.  
On the other hand, you had been exchanging alot more conversation with Yoongi over this time.  
You’d been friends with him just as long as you have been with Hoseok and the others, yet you were learning things about him you never knew.
As you set the dishes down on the coffee table, you glance at where the pillow sits beside Yoongi, creating a makeshift barrier between the two of you.  
It wasn’t a sudden thought to remove it and toss it, to slide in beside him and see what it felt like for Yoongi to be the one to pull you into his side, to lay his head on yours as you curled into him.
No, it wasn’t sudden at all, it has been building up over these little drama dates you’ve been having with him.  
Settling on the couch beside the pillow, you chew your lip, considering how to even go about wanting to close the distance with him.  
Perhaps it was still too early, you think, returning his smile as he looks over at you, nodding along to his suggestions for your selection of the night. 
You both settle on a drama that has been airing, finding yourself involved and before long, two hours have passed.  
“Did you want to sleep or-?” He asks, turning to you as he holds the remote in his hand.
“If you don’t mind, I’d love to watch another.” You say softly, admiring him as he gives you a cute little smile as he turns to queue up the next episode.  
“Alright, bathroom break, I’ll be right back.”  He says, wandering off down your hallway.
“Need anything while I’m up?” you ask, going to get two more water bottles.  
“I’m good!” He calls as you go to sit back down.
You hesitate a moment before you grasp the irritating pillow and toss it over to the chair beside you.  
“There.” you mumble, proud of yourself before you’re filled with a sudden anxiousness as he comes to join you again.  
“Oh…” he says, eyeing the now empty space between you, glancing at you in askance as he sits down.
“It was in the way.” You say, cheeks heating as he nods slowly, and you catch the cute little eye twitch as he settles into the couch.  
“Ready?” He asks, side eyeing you as you adjust so you’re a bit closer to him.
“Yep.” You nod, trying to act nonchalant.
It’s slow, but as you make your way through the next hour-long episode, you find yourself bumping his knee with yours when you exclaim about what is going on.
Leaning in as you laugh, turning to see if his reaction matches your own.
Little by little the distance closes before your shoulder is brushing his, his deep throaty laughter evoking little tummy trembles.
And before you know it, you’re more focused on his facial expressions, his little grunts of surprise, the way his lips turn down as he finds something displeasing on the screen.  
Swallowing heavily, you reach out to brush an errant strand of hair back, causing him to freeze in place.
“Oh…sorry…you just…I-”  
“It’s fine.” He says, his eyes no longer taking in the show as his gaze sweeps over you.  
Your breath hitches a bit as you watch his adam’s apple bob, swallowing as  he licks his lips and clears his throat.
Brushing the strand back, you catch his dark gaze as it lingers on your lips, causing your stomach to flip.
He winces as he meets your eyes, clucking his tongue in that adorable way he does.
“Are you enjoying the show?” He asks, his voice a bit deeper and softer than normal and you can only nod as your fingers linger on the soft strands of his hair.
Somehow you’ve moved directly beside him, and you find yourself wondering what the exact distance is between his mouth and yours.
He clears his throat once more as he watches your gaze drop to his lips, seemingly unsure of what to say or do next.  
“I am.” You respond softly, your eyes just taking in the entirety of his face this close, unable to resist rubbing the silken strands between your fingertips.  
“Are you?” You ask after a long pause, the voices on the television fading into the background as you hear your heart thump in your chest.
How long had it been since you’d kissed someone? you wonder.
Since someone touched you in ways that were anything but friendly?
Feeling almost starved, you blush as you watch your hand tremble as you tuck his hair, your fingertips skimming the shell of his ear.
Suddenly, his hand is around your wrist, gently halting your motion as he studies your eyes.
“I don’t mean to sound…rude but…” He halts as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his lashes fluttering as he appears to calm himself.
“Are you aware of what you’re doing right now?” He asks huskily, the timbre of his voice seeming to tickle something so deep within you that the very awareness of it is enough to cause you to squirm.
You hesitate to answer him, but not because you’re unsure of your response.
No, you need him to know that you’re very much aware.
Holding his gaze, your teeth capture your bottom lip as you nod slowly, intentionally.
“Good.” He grates out.
Within the next breath, the distance is bridged and his lips are capturing yours, the fingers around your wrist loosening as they trail down your forearm.
You don’t even have time to feel ashamed of the needy moan that gets lost in the depths of his mouth, because he’s too busy slipping his fingers up into your hair, kneading your scalp as his lips quiver against yours.
The show is forgotten as you both cling to one another, his free arm slipping around you to tug you closer.
Your fingers finally delve into the long, satin strands of hair that have been tempting you for weeks.
It’s a shock and yet not surprising at all when your hand slips over his back, across his shoulders and you feel the taut muscles bunching as he slowly pulls you ever closer to him.
You’re not even sure which noises are his and which are yours as you allow, no, you encourage him to tug you halfway onto his lap.  
Before you know it, you’re looking down at him, your fingers skimming his cheek as your lips part and meet, again and again with hot breathy sighs and groans.
“Yoongi-” You breathe out, and you can’t help but flush with shame at the desperation in your wavering voice.
He freezes suddenly at the sound of his name, unsure as he pulls back to check on you.  
The whine that escapes you as he withdraws causes his eyes to widen with concern, misunderstanding the meaning behind the embarrassing noise.  
“Too much-?” 
Unable to stop yourself, you straddle him properly, one thigh on either side of his, crushing your mouth to his as you cut off his sentence.
“No-” you manage as his hands immediately grasp your hips, a soft groan escaping him as you cup his face.  
It’s as if every touch of his is burning a trail along your body as his palms skim up your sides, sliding around your back, then down to cup your ass.  
Your head is swimming with the sensation overload as you roll your hips against him, finally realizing how very hard he is.  
Heat pools in your abdomen as his fingers knead your plush ass, his tongue dancing delicately over yours between his breathy groans.  
Your hand slips between you, a sudden need causing you to tug at the button of his jeans.  
Belatedly, you register how his body freezes, his hands gripping you to still you as he slows the kiss.
Drawing back, you swallow harshly, doing your best to not cry out at the loss of his lips on yours.  
His dark, anxious eyes study you as he brings a hand up to trace your cheek, and it takes you a moment to realize that those gorgeous lips are moving, that he’s speaking to you.
“Hey…woah…let’s slow down for a moment…” 
His voice sounds almost pained, gravelly and hoarse as he clears his throat.
“Yoongi?” You ask softly, concerned that you may have pushed him a bit too far, that maybe he doesn't want this.
He clears his throat again, eyes darting down to your lips before he looks away.
Yet he keeps you seated right there in his lap as he finally manages to get his words out.
“Let’s talk before…” His thumb caresses your cheek gently and you can feel his body shudder under yours as you blink at him.  
Nodding, you take a deep breath, pushing down the desperation and need within you in order to clear your mind.
“As much as I want you…want this…we should have a conversation.” He continues, finally meeting your eyes once more, “I don’t want to rush into anything either of us will regret.”
You process his words slowly, chest heaving as you do your best to calm yourself.  
The emotions that had gradually been building for him over this past month seem to evolve at his care for you, making your next words hold even more weight.
You slip your fingers into his hair, brushing it back as you admire the man you’d come to see as much more than a friend.  
“Yoongi…I like you, too.” You manage, your voice hoarse with the need you’ve pushed back for the moment.  
His eyebrows twitch upwards, lips parting with the tiniest little gasp as you smile softly at him.
“I want you…I want this. I want…more.” 
His eyelashes flutter at your words, eyes closing slowly as if he’s savoring the meaning behind them, the gravity of them.
“Are you sure? I don’t want something casual. We both deserve more than that.” He says before opening those deep chocolate eyes to observe you, gauging your reaction closely.
Without hesitation, you nod, running your thumb over his beautiful lashes.  
“I wouldn’t do that to you or myself, Yoongi.  I don’t want a pillow between us anymore.” You whisper, leaning down to brush your lips over his.  “I wouldn’t have removed it if I wasn’t ready for this. For us.” 
Your eyes are locked on his as you do so, curling your lips gently as his arm slips around your waist to hold you close.
“What about…Hoseok?” He whispers hesitantly, apprehension written all over his face.  
You knew this would come up, and it’s all that’s been on your mind over the weeks since he’d confessed.
Emotions are so complicated and slippery, especially when nothing is clear, when all you have is doubts and nothing is ever communicated.  
He watches patiently as you try to think of how to communicate the choice you’ve made properly to him, so he won’t think this is a rash decision on your part.
“I’ve had years to process those emotions, and nothing has ever come of it.  Perhaps it’s because I never communicated them properly, or maybe I just didn’t have the courage to face the rejection.” 
You smile fondly at him as he listens intently, your heart stuttering at the complete open trust and acceptance in his eyes.  
“Honestly, I’ve been blinded by my own wants and needs for so long with him, yet I never took the time to find out how he felt.  He’s my friend, and that will never change.  As much as it hurt to hear how he truly felt about me, I needed that. I can’t be even remotely mad or upset with him, as it’s me who was hurting myself all this time.”
“What I feel, or felt for Hoseok has nothing to do with you and I.  It’s a fleeting possibility that I spent far too long being preoccupied with.  I didn’t need the time I asked for just to solidify how I felt about you, Yoongi.” 
As you speak, you can feel the confidence and determination in your words as he holds you close, giving you the courage to continue.
“I wanted to make sure that when and if I was able to take this step with you, I would be giving you all of me.  Not just fragments warring with an unrequited crush for someone else.  I’m laying that part of me to rest, even if you decide that you want to stop right here.  That you want to just stay friends-”
The limbo you’ve both been suspended in seems to pop like a bubble as he suddenly flips you on your back, drawing out a small surprised cry from you.
“That’s all I need to hear.” He growls, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.
The force behind it has your teeth digging into his lips, his tongue plunging into your mouth desperately as you meet his need with your own.  
Clinging to the soft fabric of his sweater, your legs slip around his thighs as he presses you into the couch with his hips.
His erection is even more prominent in this position as he presses wet kisses along your jaw, his hands slipping down to slip under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your waist.
Soft cries leave your parted lips as he rolls his hips, your already damp panties starting to soak through as he grinds against you.  
“I don’t want to be just friends.” The heat of his breath brushing over your neck causes you to shiver, your fingers grasping frantically at his sweater until your fingertips meet the hem, slipping your hands up his naked back.
“Give me all of you.” The rough timbre of his voice alone has you arching your back as he helps you yank his sweater over his head, tossing carelessly to the side.
The sight of him bare chested, hovering over you with that long hair hanging down almost undoes you right there and then.  
Placing your hands on his stomach, you run your palms slowly upwards, enjoying each and every twitch and spasm you extract.  
The way he bites his lip, the soft, throaty gasps.
How his eyes seem to darken to onyx in lust.
Pushing against him, you sit up as you slip your hands up his chest to his shoulders, then down his arms.  
Without uttering a word, you take his hand and tug him up, leading him to the darkened doorway of your room.  
As you reach the edge of your bed, he spins you around, tugging your shirt over your head before crushing his mouth against yours once more.
Your head spins from his familiar fragrance of warm spice and tobacco from his cologne, reveling in the fact that he’s covering you in his scent.
Rough calluses brush against your bare flesh, his hands eager yet gentle as he explores you as if they’re dying of thirst and your body is the only thing that can sustain him.  
He reacts to each soft whimper, every drawn out moan with his own, heightening the ache between your legs as he backs you towards the bed.
Your nails graze lightly down his back as his teeth nip the sensitive skin of your neck, his tongue laving at the tiny marks he’s leaving behind.  
“Harder.” he commands, his hands finally slipping down to grab handfuls of your ass to press you into him.  
Without even having to question what he means, you dig your nails into the skin of his back, raking them harshly down his skin to leave angry red lines behind.  
The room upends as he topples you onto the firm mattress, clinging to one another as you tug and pull, your hands finally making their way back to the button of his pants.
This time he doesn’t stop you, propping himself up to watch as you yank and unzip, pushing down the material keeping him from you.
His ragged panting fills the air around you as he helps you kick them off along with his boxers, your stomach tightening as you encircle his cock as it springs out.  
“Oh fuck-” He grunts, hips jerking forward as you stroke along the length.
Before you can respond, he’s returning the favor, yanking off your pants, leaving you only in your bra and panties beneath him.  
“You’re so fucking beautiful-” his voice is coarse as he rakes his gaze over you, dipping down to press his face between your breasts to inhale you.
“Yoongi…” You whimper, shivering as his hair tickles your sensitive skin as your hands slip around his back to stroke over the harsh marks you’ve left.  
He settles his weight on you, his hips dragging the underside of his dick along your panties as he palms your breasts through the fabric of your bra.  
“So soft..” He mumbles, tugging down the lace harshly and at this point, you don’t give a damn if he’s torn it.  
His words contrast with the feel of him against you, stiff, thick and throbbing as you soak through your panties with every motion he makes. 
“Yoongi, oh my god-you’re driving me-insane-” You manage to stutter as he wraps his lips around your taut nipple, suckling gently as he gazes up at your flushed face.
Your fingers find their way back into his hair, grasping desperately as he grins, his eyes shining with delight, your other hand clinging to his shoulder for dear life.
He releases your nipple with a wet pop, slowly kissing his way along the valley of your tits, making his way over to give the other fair treatment.
His warm breath tickles your skin, and you suck in a sharp breath as he laughs softly at how you’re reacting to him.
“Lose your mind then, love.  I’ve been losing mine over you for years.” 
He punctuates the words with a harsh suck as he claims your other nipple, causing your back to arch for him, digging your nails into his shoulder as you tug at his hair.  
Your eyes roll as he circles his tongue around the tightened bud, his eyes never leaving your face as the ache between your thighs throbs with need at his every touch.  
Years…
You’ve seen many sides of Min Yoongi but nothing compares to the sheer control he has right now, all while holding back the desperate need you can see in his stare.
Your cries grow louder as he reaches between you, his strong hand gripping the side of your panties and ripping the flimsy material, flinging them to the side. 
The moment your panties are gone, his fingers are slipping between your lower lips, parting them as he lets out a soft, deep whimper of his own.   
You barely register his hand slipping behind your back, unclasping the hooks of your bra to tug off the now damaged garment.
Your mind is consumed by how deftly his fingers tease at your core, his thumb honing in on your sensitive clit.
“You’re so gorgeous like this…” he rasps out, eyes hooded as he watches you arch your back as he gently circles his thumb, licking his lips as his breathing becomes even more ragged.
Choking back a moan, you writhe under his palm as he teases a fingertip into you before pulling back to rake his eyes over your naked form.  
The tightness in your stomach builds as you shudder beneath him, yanking harshly on the hair clenched in your fist.  
The moment he flashes that sexy lopsided smile, you can’t hold back anymore.  
The last thing you want to do is lie here losing your mind when he looks far too in control.  
“Min Yoongi, if you aren’t buried deep inside of me in the next ten seconds-”
Your words are punctuated by another tug of his hair, your legs slipping around his thighs, hips tilting to offer yourself up to him in desperation.
Before you can even finish your sentence, his mouth is on yours once more, his fingers parting from you to guide the head of his cock against your aching entrance.
He lets out a shuddering breath against your lips, a soft groan building in his throat as you feel him start to sink into your warmth.  
He brings his hand up to cup your face as he slowly fills you, the sound of your name on his lips swallowed up as you deepen the kiss.  
You gasp as you feel yourself clench around him, your body already shaking beneath him as he draws back just to thrust forward once more.  
“Fuck-!” he growls as his lips leave yours, looking down between you to watch his cock delve into you, “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?” 
All you can muster is a moan, then a sharp gasp as he pulls almost all the way out, then thrusts forward suddenly as he bottoms out within you.  
“Yoongi!” you cry out, wet noises filling the room as he starts snapping his hips into you, setting a hard but steady pace.
All you can do is watch his face as he fucks you, that gorgeous dark hair dangling above you as he bites his lip in concentration.  
“Look at me.” you demand between moans, drawing his attention back to you.  
His eyes flick up to your face, then rake down your body and back up as the force of his thrusts cause your body to shake beneath him.  
“I can’t take my fucking eyes off of you, fuck you feel so good-” He moans as he dips down to reclaim your lips.  
“Don’t fucking stop-” you whimper between kisses, and he only responds by grasping your wrist and pinning it over your head.  
His mouth leaves yours, hot breath skimming over your chin, then your neck as he kisses and licks his way over to your ear.  
“Do you like it when I fuck your pretty little pussy?” He growls, the deep tone of his voice sending a shock through your body alone.  
His pace quickens as you tighten around him, your moans and whimpers only encouraging him as you begin to feel the familiar need building in your abdomen.  
“Fuck, yes, Yoongi! Harder!” you scream, the heat of his breath, the sounds of his guttural moans vibrating in your eardrum pushing you closer and closer to tipping over that precipice.
Your back arches, angling your hips so that he’s hitting your sensitive clit with each thrust as his cries grow louder, melding with your own. 
The sound of your name in your ear almost undoes you, and you let out a choked scream as he draws back to look down at you.  
“So close-” you gasp as he releases your wrist, threading his fingers with yours above your head.  
“Yeah, baby? Gonna come for me?” he rasps out as he watches your face contort with every motion.
You nod your head frantically, feeling as if you’re balanced on a tightwire and all you want to do is fall off.  
You can feel his entire body quaking as he continues to speak, the sexiest filth dripping from his lips in that rich deep voice.  
“Let me feel you come around my cock, baby, that’s it.  You’re all mine, all fucking mine, and I’m all yours-fuck! God, your cunt is perfect, so tight and wet, I just want to fill you full-”
Each word is like a nudge, and finally the sensation that’s been bubbling up within you this entire time seems to erupt from every single cell in your body as you finally tip over the edge.
“Yoongi! Yoongi!” is all your brain can manage as your orgasm crashes into you, clenching tightly around him as your body lifts from the bed.
Your strangled cries are met with his own, ripped from his throat as his eyes widen, his lips parting in an “o” as he throws his head back and thrusts forward once more.
A warm burst fills you as his whole body tenses above you, trying your hardest to watch him fall apart along with you.  
The ringing in your ears starts to fade, and the only sounds in the room are your combined labored breathing as he slowly lowers himself down to nuzzle his face into your neck.  
You gasp as you involuntarily clench around him, a hoarse moan escaping him as he slowly gives you a few small thrusts as he finally empties himself deep inside of you.
Swallowing harshly, you do your best to catch your breath as you comb your fingers through his damp hair.
You’re both covered in sweat, you think, a small smile curling your lips as you close your eyes and bask in the after effects of your joining.
“Fuck.” Yoongi grumbles into your neck, his lips dancing over your sticky skin.  
“Mhm.” you agree, humming softly.  
Floating through the haze of bliss, you finally open your eyes as you feel him draw back, withdrawing from you to leave a wet mess seeping out.  
Your eyes meet his and he just gives you a sleepy smile as you continue to run your fingers through the strands of his hair.  
He rolls you both to the side, arms wrapped around you as he kisses you softly, no words spoken for what seems like eternity.
No words are really needed, just soft touches, kisses, little smiles and laughs as your eyes meet.
The sun starts to creep through the blinds before he finally whispers that he will return in a moment, leaving you only long enough to bring back a warm cloth to clean you up a bit.  
Blushing slightly, you help do the same for him, tossing the cloth into the laundry before you settle back into his arms.  
Pressing a kiss to your temple, he lets out a long breath.
“You’re not leaving yet, right? You’ll stay for a bit?” You ask him, finally breaking the silence as the birds sing outside the window.
He laughs softly, propping himself up to look down at you with an eyebrow raised.  
“Of course I’m not just leaving…unless you’re kicking me out?” He responds, biting his lip as he runs his finger along your shoulder.  
You snort, shaking your head, “Sorry, no.  You told me you’re all mine so I think I may just keep you.”  
You do your best to keep a straight face, failing horribly as he feigns shock, his brows drawing together adorably as he protests.
“You think?!” he teases, sliding his arm around you to pull you closer, rolling you both so you’re on top of him.  
“Hmm…” you straddle his hips, brushing back his dark strands as you admire the handsome man beneath you, “I can be convinced…”
He gives you that familiar gummy smile you love so much before he’s growling out your name, tugging your mouth to his as he laughs.  
“Oh, really? I’m actually quite good at pleading my case…” he hums as his hands slip down to take two handfuls of your ass.  
“By all means-”
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It’s midday by the time you both manage to uncling to one another.
“I shouldn’t have let you shower with me…” you hum as you make coffee, shaking your head as you feel his arms wrap around you from behind.  
“Well, we were just conserving water…” he answers, and you can’t help but giggle as you contemplate what to make for an early dinner.
By the time you get around you checking your phone, you sigh at the many missed messages and calls.
“I think Hoseok is going to send the police to my house.” you tell Yoongi as you both sit down to finally eat something.  
He just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he gestures to your phone.
“I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up yet, honestly.” He grumbles, taking a bite as you read through your messages.
“Well that would be a fun conversation…” you hum, biting your lip as you contemplate how that is going to go over with everyone.
“Speaking of…” Yoongi says, placing his utensils down as he leans back to look at you.
You glance at him, knowing what he’s thinking. 
“Should probably leave that to me.” You tell him before he can continue.
Feeling suddenly shy, you clear your throat as you look over at him.
He’s only wearing a pair of your sweats, his naked shoulders and chest distracting you as you try to think of your next words.  
“We are…together ... .like…” you gesture with your hands, embarrassed at asking. 
He only blinks at you, shock on his face before he is leaning forward and taking your hand.  
“Are you asking if I’m your boyfriend now?” He asks, an amused lopsided smile growing on his face at how flustered you are.
You just slap his hand, but then slip your fingers through his, nodding shyly.  
“Yes, baby.  I told you last night…I want you.  All of you.”  he whispers.
Your eyes meet his and you can only blush, your cheeks heating at his words.  
“You have me, then.  All of me.” you tell him.  
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“Where the fuck is she?” Hoseok mutters, doing his best to contain the rising panic as he makes his way to your apartment building.  
Checking his phone for the hundredth time since last night, he sighs.  
Over the last month, it feels as if you’ve been withdrawing more and more, but you still respond to his messages.
If he’s being honest, it didn’t feel very good.
All he can think of is the comments everyone has been making.  
What if she does end up dating?
What if she has someone she likes?
Hoseok can only frown as he finally gets in the elevator to take him up to see you.
Of course, that would eventually happen.
Someone she’s interested in, other than me, he thinks.
The idea is so completely foreign, he has a hard time wrapping his mind around it.  
More important than me?
Shaking off the thought and this feeling of discontent it brings, he pushes himself off the side of the elevator wall as the doors open.
Making his way down your hallway, he glances up as your door opens, a sense of relief filling him as he hears your familiar laugh.
That relief is short-lived as he hears a man’s voice responding to your voice.
Not just any man’s voice-
He stops in shock as he watches you emerge from your apartment, hand in hand with another man.
He can’t make out the words, but his heart seems to drop into his stomach as he recognizes the owner of the hand in yours.
Min Yoongi.
Fucking Min Yoongi…holding your hand.
The hand holding his phone clenches tightly as he watches his friend lean in and brush your hair back, your eyes seeming to dance with happiness as you gaze at him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he hears faintly as he watches you nod to him.
“Tomorrow.” he hears your voice respond.
The world seems to stop as he watches two of his closest friends lean towards each other and kiss.
“No way…” he whispers, but it’s not amusement or happiness at watching two obvious lovers leaving one another.
No…against everything that is logical, he feels a burning rage and betrayal building deep in his stomach.
Before he can even process it, he’s turning on his heel, making his way to the emergency stairs and rushing down and out of the building before either of you notice him.
His phone starts to buzz as he makes his way home, and he sends it to voicemail immediately.
He can’t even form the words to say to you right now.
Not while he’s feeling like this.  
Whatever this was.
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