#i hope you all see him for what he is now which is a sl*t

[theostrophywife]

agora hills.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: agora hills by doja cat.

author's note: as always, this unhinged fic idea started in chlo and i's endless chats about these pesky men. enzo has a special place in my heart because he's so golden retriever sunshine (don't be fooled by that face though he's filthy).

Enzo Berkshire was your best friend. 

Despite what your friends seemed to think, the relationship between you two had always been strictly platonic. Perhaps it was easy to misinterpret your actions as romantic. After all, you and Enzo were very touchy and affectionate people. It was typical of you two to hold hands in the halls, cuddle in the common room, and even share the occasional cheek or forehead kiss, which you deemed completely normal. This type of behavior has been the standard since you were eleven years old. 

Still, you weren’t blind. You knew your best friend was attractive. Enzo had always been handsome in your eyes, but then fourth year rolled around and everyone else started to notice it too. To be fair, he had grown at least a foot over the summer and quidditch definitely helped him pack on lean muscle. Needless to say, girls flocked to him like a swarm of bees to honey, but he never really seemed interested in any of them. Not that you were paying attention. It was a natural thing to notice when you spent every waking moment with someone. 

The point of the matter was that you had absolutely no romantic feelings for Enzo whatsoever. Or so you thought. Until the bloody dream that flipped your friendship on its head. 

It was a normal day. You and Enzo were studying in your dorm like you usually did after class. Enzo was sprawled out on the rug scribbling away for his assignment on Ancient Runes. You were on your bed reading up on History of Magic. You knew you should be focusing since there would be a test tomorrow, but the chapter was boring and you were absolutely knackered from attending classes all day. 

Before you knew it, you were fully knocked out. A part of you was aware that you were dreaming, but the surreality of it blurred the lines of reality. 

In your dreams, you were still in your room studying with Enzo. Except your best friend was no longer hunched over his homework on your rug. Now Enzo was standing at the edge of your bed, blocking out the afternoon sun. You stared up in confusion as he took the book from your hands. 

“Enz? What are you doing?” 

Enzo stared intently at you, his soft hazel eyes flickering down to your lips. It was a little like being hit with a beam of sunshine. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he ran his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“I want to try something.”

You held your breath as Enzo leaned over. The bed dipped from his weight as you sat frozen in place. He rubbed soothing circles along your wrist, causing you to melt into his touch. It was a familiar sensation, one that always calmed you down but right at that moment, you felt anything but. The beat of your heart echoed so loudly that you were sure he could hear it. 

Enzo leaned in close, his face mere inches away from yours. He stroked your cheek gently. “I want to kiss you,” he murmured, the low whisper of his voice conjuring goosebumps along your arms. “Can I?”

You blinked, swallowing thickly. He was so close that you could smell the woodsy smell of his cologne, combined with a hint of fresh laundry and citrus. 

“Yes,” you responded breathily. 

Before you could think better of it, Enzo was kissing you. It was soft and sweet, his kisses gentle while he tested the waters. The quick little pecks soon evolved into deeper kisses as your body responded to his touch. Your hands moved outside of your own volition, fingers tangling in Enzo’s hair as you pulled him closer. He groaned and tilted your head back for a better angle, your bodies pressed close together and radiating heat underneath your clothes. 

Enzo scooted back on the headboard and pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss. You gasped when his hands roamed underneath your skirt, gripping your thighs so that you were fully settled over his length. What started as a sweet innocent kiss escalated into a full on heated makeout session. Kissing till your lips were swollen. Moaning into each other’s mouths. Grasping at every inch of skin the two of you could reach. 

When you felt him grind his hardness against your backside, you gasped. Enzo took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, swirling and sucking until you were panting above him. 

“Y/N,” he grunted huskily. “I need you.”

The desperation in Enzo’s voice made you shudder. You didn’t even think twice before unbuckling his belt and tugging his boxers down. Enzo groaned as he stroked himself, pulling your panties to the side. You whimpered as he teased his tip at your entrance. 

“I want you so fucking bad.”

“I want you too, Enzo.”

Friendship be damned, Enzo gripped your hips and watched as you sank into him. His eyes rolled back when he felt your warmth and wetness hug around his cock. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Gods, you feel so fucking good. Better than I imagined.”

You clenched at his words and he inhaled sharply before rolling your hips to set the pace. Once you established a steady rhythm, Enzo pinned you with his lust blown gaze and watched as you rode him. He lavished you with sloppy kisses, stopping every now and then to moan into your mouth while you continued rolling your hips against him. 

“That’s it, princess. Feels good, yeah? Keep rolling your hips just like that,” Enzo said, thrusting upwards to fuck into you. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Just as Enzo hit that perfect spot, your eyes flew open. 

You were startled to find yourself back in your dorm, warm, sweaty, and alone in bed. You nearly fell off altogether when you found Enzo still sitting on the rug below you. While you were dreaming about doing filthy things with him, Enzo was completely oblivious and focused on studying. Like you should’ve been. 

Enzo perked up, concern written all over his face when he saw how flushed you were. He immediately rushed over to your side. Your cheeks were so red that he thinks you might be running a fever. Enzo pressed the back of his hand against your forehead and you bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning. 

“You’re burning up, Y/N.” Enzo sounded genuinely worried. If only he knew the reason why you currently shared the same temperature as the common room fireplace. “Maybe I should walk you over to the infirmary?” 

“No!” Your voice echoed shrilly in your dorm, causing you to wince. “I’m fine. I just…I just need fresh air.”

“Oh good, I’ll come walk with you.”

“No,” you said rather harshly. Enzo frowned. “I, uh, I think I should go alone.”

Now Enzo was truly perturbed. He pouted at your refusal. Why didn’t you want him to come? You always walked around the Black Lake together. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?” 

He squinted at you, hoping to catch your gaze. You completely avoided looking him in the eyes before scrambling out of bed. 

“I’m fine, really. I’ll see you later, Enz.”

You were out the door before Enzo even had a chance to respond. 

You were acting like a bloody idiot. 

After that unfortunate afternoon, you spent the next few days avoiding Enzo. The dream had completely flustered you. It was impossible to be in the same room as your best friend. You couldn’t even look Enzo in the eyes without thinking of him being inside of you.  

More than that, it was making you rethink your entire friendship. You adored Enzo. He had been a constant in your life since first year. The two of you were inseparable and he was pretty much the most important person in your life. You had never once thought about him in a sexual manner, but obviously you were attracted to him given the filthy thoughts that flooded your mind like a plague. 

You were praying to Merlin that this stupid little lapse of yours would pass and take all the hormone addled aftereffects with it. Perhaps it was just lack of physical affection that was causing you to think this way. After all, you had broken up with your last boyfriend months ago. There was the casual hookup every now and then, but those never really satisfied you in the way that you wanted. It certainly wasn’t anything like how Enzo had been in your dream. 

As you cataloged and compared your most recent stints, the intrusive thought slipped in without warning. There were no secrets between you and Enzo, so you knew that it had been awhile since he hooked up with anyone else too. Come to think of it, except for a couple flings here and there, Enzo has never really had a serious relationship. 

You never really thought much about it. It wasn’t like you were running headfirst into commitment either, but now you couldn’t help but wonder why Enzo had never had a girlfriend. Were relationships just not his cup of tea? If so, why the bloody hell not?

By the time you had unraveled that string, Pansy was snapping her fingers in front of your face. You shook your head and rejoined the present. Before your little spiral, you and Pansy had been discussing the homework for Charms. 

Your friend narrowed her eyes on you. “Alright, spill,” Pansy said. “There’s clearly something on your mind.”

You peered around the common room. For the most part, it was empty. Only a few of the other Slytherins lingered in your midst, but one could never be too careful in the viper’s nest. 

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you leaned closer to Pansy and spoke in a low voice. “Have you ever had a dream about one of the guys?”

Pansy leaned back on the velvet emerald couch with an expression of intrigue. “What kind of dream?”

“You know,” you urged, picking at the cushion in your lap. “The sexual kind.”

She shook her head, her glossy bob shimmering in the faint light. “No, I can’t say that I have.” 

“I have!” Theo said cheerfully as he plopped down between you. His presence startled you, but he looked utterly unperturbed as he butted into the conversation. “About both of you, actually.”

You wrinkled your nose and smacked him on the arm. “Gross, Theo.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Pansy said with a look of disgust.

Theo was deeply offended by it all. “What? I’ll have you know that I was very loving and gentle,” you groaned and made a gagging sound. “I also had one about Reg and that one wasn’t as gentle, if you know what I mean.”

He grinned cheekily, which only made you lament further. Pansy shook her head in disbelief. “Really, Regulus? He’s the human equivalent of a grumpy black cat. All the first years are terrified of him.”

Theo shrugged. “What can I say? I’m into that. All that surliness and those curls, y’know…”

It was Pansy’s turn to smack him. “For Salazar’s fucking sake, shut it, Theodore. I want to know who Y/N had a dream about.”

“Was it Riddle?” Theo prompted.

“Which one?”

“Mattheo, obviously. Tom looks like he hasn’t had a woman’s touch in years.”

“That’s mean!” you cut in. “I’m telling Tom you said that.”

“Please don’t. I value my life, thank you very much.”

Pansy scoffed. “It’s not either one of the Riddles then.”

“Was it me?” asked Theo. 

“Gods, no.”

He rolled his eyes in response. “It can’t be Blaise because him and Pans are shagging on the daily.” Theo’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me it’s Malfoy.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“But he’s close, right?” Pansy said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. You nodded weakly. She gasped. “Oh my god, Berkshire? Really?”

You buried your face in your hands. You were truly going to die of embarrassment. Pansy continued with her assessment. “Well, you two are practically attached at the hip, so it makes sense. Still, I truly didn’t expect it to be Enzo. He’s so sweet, I just can’t see him that way.”

The shit-eating grin on Theo’s face made you cringe. “Was it good? It had to be, right? Is that why you’ve been avoiding him all week?” 

“What? I haven’t been avoiding him.”

“Sure you have,” declared Theo. “Berkshire’s all broken up about it. Thinks he’s done something to upset you. The whole time you’ve been nursing filthy little fantasies about sweet baby boy Enzo. Oh, I can’t wait to tell the guys about this.”

Panic seized you and Theo yelped as you held his arm in a death grip. “You can’t say a fucking word, Theo. Do you hear me? It’s already humiliating enough to have a sex dream about my best friend. I will literally murder you if you tell any of the boys.”

Theo sighed. “Fine, I won’t tell. Now let go of me, woman.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Pansy. “You can’t keep avoiding Enzo forever.”

You sighed. You were completely and utterly at a loss. Pansy was right. Enzo was already starting to suspect something and you felt bad that he thought he’d done something to upset you when you were the one in the wrong. How could you possibly act normal after all of this?

“Maybe you should ask him if he’s ever thought about you that way,” Theo suggested. “That way the ball’s in his court.” 

You scoffed. “I’m supposed to just come up to him and casually ask, Hey Enz, have you ever had a sex dream about me that was so filthy that you couldn’t make eye contact for days after?” 

“I guarantee you the answer will be yes.”

As you chided Theo for being his usual ridiculous self, Pansy discretely nudged you. Enzo rounded the corner and waved at the three of you. Theo and Pansy shared a look before leaving you to your own devices. Bloody traitors. 

Enzo was unbothered by their sudden departure. “Hi, love. I haven’t seen you all week. You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?” 

His tone was light and playful, but it still made you nervous as all hell. “No, not at all,” you internally cringed at the forced cheeriness in your voice. “I’ve just been…busy. Yeah, that’s it. No other reason.”

For Salazar’s fucking sake. You were horrible at this. Lying to Enzo wasn’t something you were used to. 

Enzo nodded. “Okay, well we’re still on for movie night, right?” 

“Oh, yeah, about that—“

“It shouldn't be a problem,” he added thoughtfully, shooting you a cheeky grin. “Unless you’re actually avoiding me.”

Fuck. Your mind was screaming at you to say no. To make up some lame excuse. To do something other than gape at Enzo. 

Unfortunately, your brain decided to stop working as soon as those dimples of his made an appearance. Merlin’s bloody beard, you truly needed to get a grip. 

You forced yourself to smile back so he wouldn’t think anything was amiss. “”I was just going to ask what snacks you wanted.”

“Just you,” Enzo said, his grin growing wider. Did his voice suddenly sound deeper than it had a few seconds ago? No, it was likely just your delusion. “That’s all I need.”

Later that night, Enzo arrived with the projector and a handful of movie choices. You spent the entire afternoon pacing and working yourself into a fit. He was entirely unaware of the cloud of anxiety hanging over you as he loaded up your favorite movie. 

Your dorm had never felt as cramped as it did at this moment. Enzo plopped down on your bed. The scene of the crime. You climbed in on the other end and resigned yourself to sitting perfectly upright and rigid while he made himself comfortable. Enzo looked at you strangely. Usually, the two of you would be cuddling. 

“What are you doing all the way over there?” Enzo asked, spreading his arms out. “Come cuddle.”

You sighed internally. This felt like tempting fate, but what could you do? If you refused, Enzo would definitely know that something was up. As slow as a snail, you scooted closer to his side. He took one look at you and shook his head before hauling you over to him. Besides being manhandled, the position was quite familiar. You tucked against his side, head resting on his shoulder while he nuzzled his cheek against your hair. 

Enzo pressed play and you started to relax while the movie unfolded. The peace didn’t last for long. As the opening scene played, Enzo absentmindedly tugged at the hem of your shirt. Again, his affectionate nature wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Yet you couldn’t help but hold your breath as he rubbed soothing circles against your hip. While the gesture usually comforted you, it had the opposite effect now. 

“You’re so tense, love,” Enzo murmured. His voice sounded so deep and delicious.

“It’s been a stressful week.”

“I bet.” 

You shuddered as he trailed his fingers over your spine, drawing patterns along your skin. Temptation wasn’t knocking at your door. It was kicking it down altogether. Enzo shifted, brushing his knuckles just below the hook of your bra. 

“This can’t be comfortable,” he said, hooking a finger around the band. “Maybe you’ll feel more relaxed with it off. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” 

There was no time to analyze what the fuck was going on. All of your efforts were spent solely on fighting the urge to moan. Enzo toyed with the band, waiting for your answer. 

“Yeah,” you said breathily. “I think—I think you’re right.”

“Course I am. Let me take it off for you then, yeah?” 

“Okay.” 

Enzo unhooked your bra with a flick of his fingers. Almost like he had long mastered the art and this was merely just child’s play. He helped you shrug out of your bra and carelessly tossed it to the side. You sighed softly as Enzo switched to long, purposeful strokes. He started at your hips, then your stomach, gradually moving up until he was barely an inch away from the underside of your breasts. Your eyes fluttered close, completely lost to his touch. They opened again when Enzo nuzzled his nose against yours. 

“Hi,” he said with a smile. 

“Hi,” you whispered. “What are we doing, Enzo?” 

“Nothing that I haven’t thought about a million times over.”

“You’ve thought about me like this?” 

“I’m always thinking about you,” Enzo admitted. “Sometimes it’s just cuddling or holding hands. Just sweet stuff cause I love touching you like this, but other times…other times I dream about you like you dreamt about me.”

Your breath hitched. “You know about my dream?” 

“I heard you in the common room earlier.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I don’t know what came over me. That’s why I haven’t talked to you much this week. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Enzo took your hand and slid it down the front of his gray sweatpants. You gasped when you felt how hard he was against your palm. “Do I feel uncomfortable to you, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t trust yourself with words at the moment. Enzo nuzzled against you, littering soft little kisses in his wake. He pecked and nipped at your neck, your collarbone, your jaw. 

“You drive me fucking mad, you know that? I want you so badly I’d literally get on my knees and beg if you asked.”

The tension was too much for you to bear. You pulled him in by the front of his shirt and pressed your lips against his. Enzo groaned into your mouth. The hand underneath your shirt crawled up until he was cupping your tits, rubbing his thumb over your nipples. Enzo tried to keep the kisses soft. He intended to savor it, but every ounce of self control went out the window the second he heard you moan. 

Enzo flipped you over so that you were straddling his lap. He looked down and realized that you were wearing one of his old shirts and the sight of it made him even harder. The tiny shorts you were wearing was a pesky little barrier, but it didn’t stop him from grinding his hardness against your ass. He tugged at the hem of your shirt. 

“Take this off, right now. I need to feel you, pretty girl.”

He watched as you peeled off the shirt. Enzo did the same, tossing both articles of clothing over the side of your bed. He groaned at the skin to skin contact. Enzo smiled as he drank it all in. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“You’re not bad to look at either, Enz.”

Enzo chuckled. “Cheeky girl. Come on, then. Shorts off too.”

You took off your shorts as Enzo slipped out of his sweatpants and boxers. He kissed you again, sloppy, filthy, and downright obscene. There was plenty of panting and groping as the two of you explored each other’s bodies. Enzo practically purred into your ear as you rubbed over his shaft. He felt like velvet in your hands. When you flicked your thumb to spread the bead of precum over his tip, Enzo released an animalistic growl. 

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered. “Gods, I need to be inside of you right fucking now or I’ll die.”

There was no time to slide off your panties. Enzo merely yanked it to the side and guided you over him. He kept his eyes on you as you sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch. Enzo groaned, digging his fingers into your hips while you adjusted to his size.

“Goddamn, you’re so wet and so fucking tight.” 

You had no idea that such filthy words could sound like music in your ears. Enzo may have been sweet as sugar, but you knew that he wasn’t innocent. He was far too cheeky to be anything but downright dirty in bed. 

Enzo was also extremely responsive. He made sure to praise and worship like your body was an altar and he was the most pious believer. 

“Enz, gods,” you moaned as he flicked his tongue over your nipple. “You’re really good at that.” 

“Yeah?” He asked cheekily. “You think so?” 

You chuckled. It was such an Enzo comment. If you weren’t actively losing your mind, you might’ve rolled your eyes at him. Whatever fantasy your mind has conjured paled in comparison to reality. Sex with Enzo was easy. You knew him and you trusted him. It was like breathing air. 

Every moan and whimper only helped you grow more and more attuned with each other’s bodies. The sounds you made were a special language of its own, one that only you and Enzo understood.

“That’s it, princess. You’re taking me so well.” 

“Like that?” you asked, rolling your hips. 

Enzo groaned in response, which made you smirk in satisfaction. He chuckled and kissed you deeply. “Ride me harder, sweetheart. Fuck…yeah just like that.” 

He moaned into your mouth, meeting the roll of your hips with thrusts of his own. Enzo pressed his forehead against your, his long lashes kissing the tops of your cheekbones while he pressed you closer. The deep angle in which he drove into you had you clawing at his back. 

“Oh gods, oh fuck. I can feel you clenching around me, pretty girl. You’re gonna cum for me like a good girl, yeah?”

“I’m so close.” Enzo flipped you onto your back and fucked you into the mattress. The tension uncoiled in your core until you were panting, chasing after that sweet release. “Oh—oh gods, Enzo.”

The orgasm knocked the very breath from your lungs. It was a total out of body experience. Your back arched, your toes curled, and you screamed his name, but none of it registered past the pleasure of coming. As soon as Enzo felt you creaming him from base to tip, he came too. 

It was strangely beautiful to watch. Enzo was mesmerizing. With his sweat slicked skin and swollen lips, strands of his dark hair clinging onto his flushed cheeks. You’ve never seen such a pretty sight. 

The two of you stayed curled up into each other. Enzo slowly pulled out and placed a tender kiss on your temple. This time, there wasn’t a single hint of hesitation as you cuddled up against his side. He was warm and comfortable, lulling you into sleep as he tangled his long legs with yours. 

You didn’t know how long you drifted off. It only felt like a few seconds later when you found yourself on your stomach, blinking sleepily up at Enzo. He smiled, kissing along your spine as he pried your legs apart. You groaned into the pillow as he thrusted lazily from behind. 

It was dark as night outside when you were finally done. You couldn’t even remember how many times he made you cum. All you knew was that you were in complete bliss as you and Enzo sprawled out on your sheets. 

You looked up at Enzo. He looked down at you. The two of you burst into a nervous fit of giggles.

“Shit. Did we just—“

He nodded, curling a strand of your hair through his fingers. “Yeah, we definitely did. Two. Three. Four times? I honestly lost count.” 

You chuckled softly. There was a moment of silence as you collected yourself. Enzo lowered himself down so that you were facing each other. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, pretty girl.” 

Despite your steamy activities, you had never felt more shy than when he brushed his lips across your knuckles. 

“I care about you, Enzo and I know you care about me too. Tonight was….fuck. Tonight was great. I just want to make sure this doesn’t change our friendship.”

“Of course it’s going to change things,” Enzo said matter-of-factly. “You think I can stay just friends with you after that?” 

You swallowed thickly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. I know you don’t really date. I mean, half the school’s asked you out and you’ve turned them all down, so I’m not expecting to be the exception. It’s alright if you just want this to be casual.”

“I don’t. I’ve said no to everyone because I’ve been waiting for you. You are the exception, Y/N. It’s always been you.” 

“Really?” you whispered, biting back a smile. “You mean that?” 

Enzo nodded and kissed your fingertips. “Sweetheart, you’ve had me in the palm of your hands since we were eleven. Of course I mean it.” 

You didn’t try to hide your smile. You were absolutely beaming. “So you don’t want things to be casual?”

“There’s nothing casual about what I feel for you.” 

“Okay,” you said, processing his revelation. “I don’t want things to be casual either. It might be selfish, but I think I want you all to myself, Enzo.” 

He released a sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking Merlin. I want you all to myself too, Y/N.”

[cherrybr4t]

ex for a reason — choi seungcheol (+18)

cheol feels a wave of possessiveness when he sees your ex-boyfriend!

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), sl*t, degradation (f rec), daddy cheol!, spanking, tit playing, jealousy! est. relationship, a little possessiveness haha, creampie, that’s all i think! ok enjoy <3

if seungcheol could pinpoint exactly why he, too, is a creature bound to the notion of possessiveness — he would. except, at this point of time, all he feels is rage.

not at you — no, no not at all. how could he ever be angry at his princess? the poor guy falling victim to his fiery glares would be your ex-boyfriend. said ex-boyfriend — mingyu, was definitely too buzzed to notice the hard daggers thrown at him.

you however, are quick to notice the switch in tension after mingyu came over to give you a hug, gushing over how it’s been forever since you’ve last met. you return the kind smile. after all you and him did end on cordial terms.

that ticks something off in seungcheol’s head. the way mingyu’s arms seemed too familiar — too comfortable snaking around you. all while he was standing there right beside you.

he shakes hands with mingyu, squeezing a little too tight until he notices the wince on that pretty boy’s face. head’s too busy thinking about the fact that he’s held you close under his covers before.

“baby, you all right?” you squeeze the hands that are tightly wrapped around your waist.

seungcheol hums, “yeah baby, just a little tired is all,” he reassures, leaving a peck on your temple. you narrow your eyes, knowing he’s withholding words from you.

“y’sure? we can leave early — anytime you wanna,” raising your brows at him, offering an exit.

“no baby, i’m fine. it’s your friend’s birthday after all, let’s stay a while more — enjoy this bottle of whiskey she has,” he lifts up the $3000 bottle off the table top, waving it slightly.

seungcheol self soothes. he thinks he’s got it all under control, it’s not like you’ve got residual feelings attached to mingyu — its been almost two years. but with the way mingyu keeps gazing over towards you, with that fucking smirk, seungcheol thinks he’s about to lose it.

the party is in full swing — party hits back to back, loud chatting over the speakers, with people dancing around. he sees mingyu start to make his way across the room towards the both of you.

without much thought, seungcheol pulls you in closer — if even possible, grabs your hand and leads you to a room. a guest room which you recognise due to the nights spent in your friend’s house.

“cheol, baby? what’s wrong?” you catch your breath, looking up at him and furrowing your eyebrows.

cheol tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. he looks at you tenderly, before deciding to come clean. it’s not the first time he’s informed you of how jealousy tends to cloud his mind.

“i…just couldn’t stand your ex being there. standing there looking at you, as if i’m not there right beside you — was fucking pissing me off,” he sighs out, leaning his forehead against yours, body to body.

you let out a small chuckle, “baby, you know how he is… plus the only man i’ve ever looked at the whole night — is standing right in front of me right now. he’s all i wanna look at.” you nibble on your bottom lip, hoping seungcheol catches every nuance of sincerity you’re projecting.

“yeah? i know baby.. sorry it’s just, i can’t help it. want him to back off. want him to know who you belong to now,” his voice barely above a whisper.

you gaze up, giving his plump lips a kiss. a simple peck which turned into sucking, biting and licking — which was the case all of the time because who could resist and pull away from those lips?

he kisses you back with even more urgency, even more passion and love — and you feel him take charge, grabbing your nape to pull you in closer. he wants to taste all of you, every inch and spot — he wants it all. wants the reassurance that you’re now his and only his to hold, to touch, to pleasure.

“you’re all mine aren’t you,” he growls out mid kiss, grabbing you by your chin, staring so deep into your eyes you feel the need seeping into you from his gaze alone.

“always have been, cheol.”

his heart settles at your voice. knows you’re his. but hearing it makes him feel a whole ‘nother level of complete. loves when you play to his possessive selfish desires.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself before sitting himself down on the edge of the bed, pulling you down to straddle above him.

he pushes and combs your hair to the back, hands rubbing up and down your body, hands claiming what’s his. he takes in your silhouette in front of him — sitting so prettily, just waiting to be devoured by him.

“you’re too beautiful baby, hate the thought of someone else getting to see you the way i do,” he removes the strap of your top, teasing slowly as he starts to pull your top above your stomach.

you raise your hands, letting him remove your top. he hisses, sucks in a sharp breath, noticing you went braless for the night.

“braless tonight baby? thank god it was warm out there. imagine if these,” he tugs on both nipples harshly, “were to stand if it were cold,” he releases them, rubbing over your hard nipples softly in circles with his thumb. “then that ex boyfriend of yours would’ve been able to see what’s mine, wouldn’t he.”

you whimper at the hard and soft sensation on your nipples, knowing he’s going gentle on you now.

“you’d like that baby? want him to see you like that?” he slaps across your tits, tainting the soft flesh with his print. you let out a whine, “n-no…don’t want him to,”

“yeah? it’s for my eyes only, right baby?” his hand inches towards your core, completely exposed under your mini skirt by the way you’re sitting.

he rubs his fingers over your panties, smirking at the wet patch he feels on your center.

“so wet baby, thinking about me or thinking about him?”

you frown and gasped at him indignantly, “you. baby — i don’t understa—” he slaps your cunt, soothing it immediately afterwards with a few gentle rubs across your core.

he knows it’s him, knows only he can get you so dippy — likes a confirmation of it anyways.

he pulls you in for another heated kiss while his fingers continue to stay busy toying with your clothed cunt. your warm cunt that he wants to drown in all the time.

“remove your panties and go on all fours for me baby,” he grabs your hips, lifting you off him. you silently think of ways to apologise to your friend before getting comfortable on the bed, just clad in your mini skirt.

seungcheol groans at the supple flesh of your ass spilling out of the short fabric. pulling you closer to the edge, he grips onto the flesh. fingers tense, possessiveness dripping down his fingertips. needs to feel you on every active nerve to remind himself that you’re solely his.

he dives in to give one long lick up your soaked cunt. you moan out his name, and he groans out how fucking wet you are.

“fuck baby, i think if i were to fuck you right now my cock would slide right in,” he settles for his fingers for now, feeling the way your walls immediately tighten around his finger.

“cheol…daddy, want more..” you push your hips back, wiggling your ass in his face. he slaps a harsh one down your cheeks, and you wince, whimpering slightly.

“greedy slut. think you deserve more? letting your ex boyfriend hug you like that,” he says that but inserts two fingers in this time. bottoming out to his knuckles, curling his fingers.

“d-don’t be angry daddy, you know i only want daddy… want you only…” you beg, breath hitching every time he hits the spot all the way inside.

“show me baby, tell daddy how much you want him.” he sees you look over your shoulders, eyes wide and sweat starting to form on the edge of your hairline.

the cocky look on his face has you tightening around his fingers. him fully clothed, fingers deep inside you while you lay so pliantly for him. you would do anything for this man. and so would he.

“please daddy, want you to make me cum. need your cock.” gripping onto the bedsheets tighter as you feel him sneakily insert a third finger.

“yeah baby? doesn’t seem like you want it that bad. i’ve heard you beg better.” he coos. he knows you could go louder — loud enough for him and the other guests to possibly hear. needs to set him straight.

you whine. god. frustration starting to boil and mix with the immense pleasure in your core. you know how cheol is. how he can get mean in bed.

“want—want you to fuck me daddy. please. need you so bad. please please cheol,” your voice breaks. you feel his other hand reach from behind to tug on your nipples, before reaching down to leave teasing touches to your puffy clit begging for attention.

he’s a master a multi-tasking. thinks when it comes to you, he’ll be a master at anything. anything that makes his princess feel good.

“fuck baby, making such a fucking mess. so desperate to cum aren’t you.” at this point, he’s more desperate than you to make you cum. he feels his cock growing so hard it hurts, and if he doesn’t cum inside you soon he’s going to lose it.

“fuck baby. show me why you’re my good girl yeah? cum on my fingers and i’ll think about letting you cum on my cock.” he rams his fingers so hard inside you, other hand rubbing tight and fast circles around your clit.

“cum for me baby, moan out my name nice and loud while you do yeah? let everyone know who’s making you feel good right now,”

with his urging, you snap and unravel, gushing out while cumming around his fingers. you scream out his name as you cum, hands turning white by how hard you’re holding on to the sheets.

“fuck daddy, so good… so good…” you puff out as you come down from your high. no time to register as you hear his pants drop to the floor.

“turn around baby, come sit on me.” you push yourself up, only to see him already leaning against the headboard, hand stroking his hard on. grunting. hints of pre-cum glistening in the dim room light. his gaze hard on you as he strokes himself.

you bite your lip, crawling slowly towards him before settling in front of him. he tilts his head, letting his pre-cum coat his length.

“think he heard you cumming all over my fingers?” cheol prompts. you flush, nod a little, think anyone within a few metre radius distance from the room would’ve heard you begging cheol to make you cum.

“wait til he hears how good my cock makes you feel baby,” he guides you towards him, letting you hover over his cock for a moment.

“you okay baby?” he whispers and gets a confirmation from you. “just want your cock in me,”

the tip presses against your entrance, and like what he predicted earlier, you sunk down his cock with ease, soaking wet cunt welcoming him eagerly. he groans, voice croaky. head so clouded by how snug and warm you feel.

“you feel so good princess, you feel fucking perfect around me,” he husks. his eyes unable to tear away from you — the way your mouth opens, gasps leaving you as you take him in all the way. the way your brows furrow with sweat down the middle. the blush spread on your cheeks and the moan you let out as you feel him completely.

he holds on to your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. switching between bouncing you and letting you grind on him.

“so fucking pretty, you always take me so well,” his brows stay furrowed, unable to fully process how fucking good you feel around him. feels like he could cum any moment.

“cheol.. daddy..so good daddy,” you moan out, you see and feel nothing but him and him only at this moment. and you want him to know how good he makes you feel.

“yeah baby? daddy’s cock making you feel good?” he raises his eyebrows, head hitting the back of the bed so hard yet he can’t feel the impact of it. so lost in the moment — wants you to cum around him, wants to cum inside of you.

“so so so good daddy,” you cry out, hands playing with your tits, giving him a little show as he continues to work your hips on him. his strong hands doing most of the work for you, while you focus on the feeling of his tip hitting and grinding against your gummy spot. the way he keeps creating waves of butterflies in your lower stomach.

“that’s it, let him hear how good i make you feel baby,”

“show him how you’re my needy little slut, bet he’s never gotten you like this,”

“no one can make you feel like i do right baby, no one compares to daddy right?” cheol utters out, cursing out every time he feels your walls tighten around him.

“n-no one daddy. only you can make me feel this way,” you cry out. “only you daddy, only you,” and it’s true. cheol works around your body like no other, like magic. knowing every spot of your body and how to take you there — faster than anyone ever.

his fingers make their way to your clit once again, and you jerk forward the moment he starts to rub messily on your slippery bud again.

“that’s it baby. only daddy can ever make you feel this way,” he snaps his hips up faster, feeling his incoming orgasm the more he hears you cry out.

“you’re doing so good baby, taking me so well. you belong on daddy’s cock don’t you,” he moans out. holding back on his thrusts, focusing on your clit to make you cum again. knows he won’t be able to hold back any longer if he continues fucking up into you.

“cum for daddy again? wanna see you cum around daddy’s cock. i know you can baby,” his pace quickens and he groans — knowing how it goes, knowing when you’re about to cum. needs to hear you fall apart on his cock.

“almost there baby, cum for daddy — that’s it that’s it… feels so fucking good doesn’t it baby, look at you.” his words alone bring you to a new high, cumming so hard around his cock, screaming his name so loud you think the upstairs neighbour knows who cheol is.

“fuck baby. gonna cum. gonna cum so fucking hard inside of you baby.” his hands find their way back on your hips, gripping onto dear life as he snaps his hips up into your dripping cunt.

“ah fuck, fuck i’m cumming baby, daddy’s gonna cum inside of you,” and you clench around him, watching the final string break as he whines out, and you feel his hot cum shooting inside you, painting your walls.

thick hot cum continues to spurt inside of you as he slowly fucks it in you, pushing his cum deep inside every crevice of your cunt. his moans come in sections, breaking more and more.

he lifts you up slowly before you decide to lay beside him, feeling beat. he extends an arm for you to lay on as a pillow and you smile, facing him as you use his arm comfortably.

“you were so good princess, did so well for me. as always,” cheol caresses your cheek softly.

“sorry baby, i shouldn’t have let mingyu hug me all over like that… i would’ve been upset if i were you too,” quietly, you place a kiss on his jawline. hoping he isn’t too affected by mingyu anymore.

“no baby, i’m not mad at you. just hate it when guys look at you that way…especially if it’s an ex-boyfriend.” he rubs his nose with yours.

“i know baby…let’s get out of here? i’ll find another day to bring minji out for a birthday dinner..”

giggling, cheol agrees — but not til you guys catch your breaths for a few minutes.

perm taglist 🖤: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127 @mrsjohnnysuh

a/n: hi luvs! sorry, i’ve been a lil caught up w life and etc so :(( missed being here n writing so here i am! managed to find some time to write a lil smth <3 hope u guys liked it, if u did — like, rb or comment ⭐️ love you, muahh 🍒

[glossdebut]

coming home (a take a bite drabble) | MYG

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Yoongi's been working hard lately, with lots of late nights holed up in his studio. When you wake up with no recollection of him coming home last night, you decide to show him just how much you've missed him.

✧ TAGS: NOT BETA READ, established relationship, and they live together now!, take a bite couple are still bonafide workaholics i fear, just pure smut honestly, THESE TWO ARE CRAZY IT IS THE MORNING!, warnings under the cut, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.8k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: got a request for oral (m. receiving) with yoongi, and decided i wanted to turn it into a take a bite drabble because i missed these two! can stand alone, but feel free to read take a bite if you want added context! also i know the song doesn't fit the vibe of this AT ALL but it is what it is. even when they're gross they're cute sorry

✧ WARNINGS: light (but consensual) somnophilia? see: the established relationship tag, oral (m. receiving), deepthroating, hair pulling, dirty talk (including the use of sl*t but MC is so down with it), vaginal fingering, spanking, the thank you joke hasn’t died yet, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls), rough sex, choking, hand/finger kink (who is surprised), BACKSHOTSSSS!!! (pls lmk if i missed anything)

Yoongi’s had a rough week.

Naturally a light sleeper, you usually at least stir when the bed dips beside you, but you have no recollection of Yoongi’s late return from the studio last night.

It must’ve been really fucking late, then. Not that that’s totally unusual. 

Living together these past few months has done little to mitigate either of your workaholic tendencies. If anything, you’ve both picked up more hours as a result, since there’s less pressure to actively set aside time for each other within both of your busy schedules. You don’t have to, not when you’re guaranteed to see each other every single day. 

Which, from an outsider’s perspective, may look kind of shitty at the surface. Why be in a relationship if you don’t make time for each other? But with Yoongi, it just… works. For both of you.

It works, because when you and Yoongi do get to spend uninterrupted hours together, you both always milk them for everything they’re worth. You go out for dinner instead of eating in. If you’re both feeling social, you invite your friends over. You shower together—or, if it’s been a particularly hard week, take a bath. Talk for hours and catch up on everything you’ve missed.

Living with Yoongi, it’s just… It’s everything you’d hoped for and more.

Not to mention Yoongi is pretty much the dream roommate.

“Yah, don’t call me that,” he’d complained the first time you’d told him as much. Scrunched his nose at you so cutely. “I’m your boyfriend. I worked hard to earn that title, thanks.”

“Well, it goes without saying that you’re my dream boyfriend,” you’d replied, cooing and squishing his cheeks when the tips of his ears turned pink in response. “Two things can be true at once, Yoongi.”

He takes the trash out. Always cooks enough for two. Never leaves hair in the sink when he shaves. Lets you use his expensive skincare products (which are, infuriatingly, much better than yours) whenever you want. And no matter how late he gets home, he always showers before he even touches the bed—because being holed up in the studio for days doesn’t exactly leave him smelling like a daisy.

Despite how late it must’ve been, last night was no exception, apparently.

It’s rare for Yoongi to fall asleep in such a state of undress—he’s a t-shirt and sweatpants guy, even in the dead of summer—but when you wake up wrapped around him, you’re pleasantly surprised by the amount of skin available to you. He must’ve been too exhausted after his shower, stumbling to bed clad only in his boxer briefs.

You’re even more pleasantly surprised to find that, despite the man himself being completely conked the fuck out, Yoongi’s cock is very much awake. Poking you insistently where your leg is thrown over his body.

There are downsides to your shared workaholism. Like, Yoongi’s been coming home exhausted all week, and you haven’t had his cock in even longer. Which is fine. You don’t need sex. It is a little embarrassing, though, how just the feeling of his erection pressed against you fucking floods your panties. Brings a whole new meaning to Skinner’s box.

So you weigh your options. You could just let Yoongi sleep. It’s Saturday, after all. He has nowhere to be, as far as you know.

Orrrrr… you could do something else for him—wake him up in a way he’d surely appreciate very, very much. And you love an appreciative Yoongi.

Yeah… Fuck it.

Shifting the blankets earns you a sleepy grumble, but you ignore it and shimmy down the bed, gently maneuvering Yoongi’s body so you can fit yourself between his legs.

Shit, he really is so hard, straining against black fabric. When you lean forward to kiss down the thin trail of hair leading under his waistband, a barely-there touch where he’s aching, his cock twitches instantly. Sensitive, too.

Yoongi barely stirs when you pull the waistband down, dragging his boxer briefs as far as they’ll go in this position. If you were him, you’d already be awake by now. But lucky for you,Yoongi’s a much heavier sleeper than you are. Instead, you get to ogle him as much as you want with absolutely no judgement.

And you do, because fuck, your boyfriend is hot. Even when his face looks stupid because he’s asleep, he’s still criminally sexy. His hair has been getting longer recently, ends curling out at the base of his neck. Soft, smooth skin that you want to slide your hands all over. Long fingers that twitch slightly when you lick a stripe up the underside of his cock. Lean muscle that tenses when you wrap your lips around his tip where he’s leaking already, from so little.

You tease him a little at first, because you can get away with it like this. Wrapping your hand around the base of him, you suck his tip shallowly into your mouth, just getting a taste. Further up the bed, you hear an intake of breath, a soft murmur that you can’t quite decipher into real words.

It’s been a long time since you’ve had him in your mouth like this. Not that he doesn’t like it—you know he does, given the way he praises you so filthily when he does have you on your knees for him. Yoongi’s just a giver by nature, and with how little you’ve been able to touch each other lately, he’s more likely to have his head between your legs rather than the other way around. Or he just fucks you. It’s been a while, but when you’re both up for it, he always fills you up so fucking good. Gives it to you nice and slow until you can’t help but beg him to fuck you harder, faster, moremoremore—

Jesus, yeah, you can’t tease anymore. You don’t have the patience he does to drag things out.

In one smooth motion, you’re swallowing him up, bracing your hands on the mattress so you can get the right angle to take him as far as you can.

The stretch makes your eyes water. Your throat puts up a valiant effort to keep him out, to tense up at the intrusion. You’ve never done this without his guidance, but you take a moment to fucking relax. You remember to breathe through your nose like he always tells you to, accepting the thickness of his cock into your throat nice and slow. As slow as you possibly can with how eager you are.

Above you, Yoongi lets out a groan. A strangled, breathy thing that spurs you on even more. When your nose reaches the soft trail of hair beneath his belly button, you suddenly feel the weight of his hand on the back of your head. Gentle, just resting there.

You wonder if he’s awake now. You wouldn’t be surprised, but you’ve also seen Yoongi sleep through the combined karaoke efforts of Jimin and Jeongguk. Singing Linkin Park. Loudly. 

Still, you focus your efforts on moving now that you’ve taken all of him, chin slick with spit and pre-cum as you slowly start to bob your head, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth as you try to suppress a gag.

“Fuck,” Yoongi says, voice gravelly with sleep. Fuck, his voice. It’s so unfair that just the sound of his voice when he wakes up instantly makes your neglected cunt clench with need.

You feel the bed shift under you, feel his fingers tighten slightly in your hair. You pause and chance a glance up at him through your lashes only to find him now fully awake, moving to sit up against the pillows. Eyes pitch black.

Carefully, you pull off of his cock with a sticky pop, catching your breath for a second. You’re grinning when you look up at him again.

“Good morning.” 

“Good fucking morning,” Yoongi practically growls, rubbing at the saliva on your chin with his thumb. “Don’t stop on my account.”

You’d make fun of him for his eagerness, but shit, you are so not in the position to, not with the way your thighs are rubbing together. Instead, you do as he says, surging back down.

“Shit,” he groans, his hand in your hair guiding the wet heat of your mouth up and down the length of his cock now, not bothering to be gentle about it. You’re not taking him as far anymore, but he doesn’t seem to give a shit, not with the way his head falls back against the headboard, bottom lip bitten as he looks at you.

“What a way to wake up,” Yoongi murmurs, grunting when he pushes you a little too far, like he’s reveling in the way it makes you sputter. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

His praise makes you whine around him, your eyes squeezing shut as you force your throat around his cock again, swallowing.

“Good girl, just like that.”

You can tell he’s getting close by the way his thighs tense under you, and you slide the seal of your mouth up on his shaft, fully prepared to wrap your hand around his base and finish what you started. But then—

“C’mere,” Yoongi murmurs, using his hand in your hair to pull you off of his cock, ignoring your pitiful whine as he drags you up into his lap.

“You were about to cum,” you protest, although there’s no heat to it. Not when you can feel the warmth of him against the last scrap of fabric separating you. Not when you can grind down, finally getting the friction you’ve been desperate for since you woke up.

“So?” Deft fingers find the waistband of your panties, wasting no time in slipping underneath. You both groan when he discovers the way you’ve been dripping for him, easily fucking two fingers into your tight heat. “Holy shit, you’re soaked.”

“S’been a long time,” you whine as Yoongi expertly locates that sensitive spot inside of you, rubbing against it at a ruthless pace. “Fuck, Yoongi!”

“Been a long time, huh?” he teases, the picture of calm as he noses the side of your neck. “Weren’t you riding my face just a few days ago, baby?”

“Not the same,” you pant, fingers grasping at his shoulders as he makes you see stars. “N-need your cock, need it so fucking bad, fuck.”

“Yeah? You need it? My mouth isn’t enough for you, is that it?” Yoongi admonishes, chuckling when you shake your head because no, fuck, that isn’t what you meant. “When did my sweet girl turn into such a needy slut for me?”

Oh.

Before you have a chance to react, he surges forward, slotting his lips with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss.

Shit, you’re gonna cum. Embarrassingly fast, but you’re so goddamn worked up, and when he says shit like that—

“I’ve been neglecting you, huh, baby?” he coos as he pulls away, withdrawing his fingers so fast it makes your head spin. You don’t have time to complain though, because then he’s slapping your thigh with a gravelly, “All fours, pretty girl.”

Fuck, yes.

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. Eagerly, you clamber out of his lap, immediately shifting yourself into position.

“Look at you,” he huffs, moving behind you to roughly shuck your panties down your legs, the fabric trapped at your knees.

You whine as you feel him run his tip teasingly through your soaked folds, desperate for him to just fucking get on with it already, shit. 

“Fuck yeah, you want it so bad,” he groans appreciatively, using his free hand to land a sharp smack on your ass as you try to wiggle back onto his cock. “So fuckin’ desperate for my cock.”

“Stop fucking teasing—”

Your protests cut off into a strangled moan as he buries himself to the hilt in one smooth motion, clutching your sides so roughly you feel like you’ll bruise. “What was that?”

“Yoongi,” you gasp, adjusting to the feeling of being filled by him again, just skin on skin. You swallow harshly as he brings a hand up to your neck, pressing his lips against your clothed shoulder.

“You know what to say, baby,” he purrs, pulling out all the way just to thrust back in again, twice as hard this time.

“Thank you!” you cry out, your eyes rolling back in your head at the combined sensation of his cock filling you and his fingers squeezing your throat. “Fuck, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Yoongi growls, his hips snapping roughly against your ass. “Knew you would remember your manners.”

It’s so good. It’s so fucking good, but it’s not enough, not like this. You can feel the warmth of your impending orgasm spreading through your body already, picking up right where you left off when his fingers were inside you, but you need more.

“Y-Yoongi, please,” you whimper pitifully, pushing your ass back into his movements. “Please, I need—”

“Still not enough for you, huh?” Yoongi says mockingly, his hand sliding down from your neck to grope roughly at your tits through your shirt. “Thought you needed my cock.”

“I-I do, I do,” you sob, grasping at the sheets under you. “I just—”

Your words are cut off by two long digits slipping between your lips. You don’t even fucking think about it as you wrap your lips around them greedily and suck. “There you go,” he coos. “Is that what you needed, baby?”

How the fuck did he know?

Exhaling sharply through your nose, you moan in response, the sound muffled by his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groans, his hips stuttering slightly. “Squeezing around me so tight. You gonna cum, baby?”

Helplessly, you nod, tears welling up in your eyes from the pure pleasure of it as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Then cum,” he growls, using his free hand to push you back down onto your hands before reaching down to rub at your clit.

That’s all you need. Your pussy flutters frantically around him and then you’re cumming hard, drool coating your chin as you cry out around his fingers.

“Shit, holy fuck,” Yoongi moans urgently, pulling the digits from your mouth with a pop as his rhythm falters significantly. “Where do you want it?”

You can’t think, let alone speak, so instead you drop down onto your elbows, arching your back in lieu of an answer. Quickly, he pushes your shirt up to your shoulders and pulls out. You can hear the sound of his urgent strokes, wet and filthy, before he spills onto your back with a groan.

Thoroughly spent, you crumple fully onto the mattress with a whimper, the sounds of Yoongi’s labored breathing filling your ears.

“God,” he huffs, giving your ass one final slap before the mattress dips with his weight next to you. You turn your head to face him, greeted by an exhausted (but still gummy) smile.

“Good morning,” you huff, fond as the pleasant buzz of your orgasm gives way to something softer.

“Good morning yourself.” Yoongi glances at the clock on his bedside table. Because he still uses an analong fucking alarm clock, the grandpa. “You know it’s Saturday, right?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And?”

“And, we both totally could’ve slept in.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you would’ve rathered sleep over the sex?” you quip, sitting up on your elbows carefully so as not to spill his release onto the mattress.

“Not at all,” he hums lifting his head to glance at your back appreciatively. “Just making sure you’re aware.”

“Mm.”

“What brought this on?” Yoongi teases, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder gently before moving to stand and pull his underwear back into place, searching for a towel to wipe you down with. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’ve been working a lot,” you explain, closing your eyes as he cleans your back gently. “I wanted to do something nice for you. And I missed you. You know, because I love you. A lot.”

Tossing the towel into the nearby hamper, Yoongi sits on the bed next to you. “I love you too, baby,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You have the weekend off?”

“Mhm,” you hum, content.

“Me too,” he says softly, smiling at you. “Lemme make you breakfast.”

As if on cue, your stomach growls against the mattress, earning an amused snort from Yoongi.

“Yeah, okay,” you concede, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before he gets up again, heading towards the door. “Just let me shower first. I’m all gross because of you.”

Yoongi leans against the doorframe, chuckling darkly as he glances at your half-naked form.

“Might as well not,” he murmurs, tilting his head at you. “I’m nowhere near done with you. We just have to eat first.”

With that, he turns around and opens the bedroom door, leaving you flushed and speechless as he heads to the kitchen to make you breakfast.

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[f0point5]

Give us some max/emilia post Australia end cuteness. Emilia misses one race and it’s Australia. Max dnfs. Ect ect

Or have a text chain of Emilia being a pure menace texting max all the innuendos and funny commentary during a press conference.

This is too adorable. I went with the first one because I’m a glutton for punishment lol. I hope you enjoy it 🫶🫶🫶

I’m only up when you’re not down

You don’t actually speak to Max after his DNF. Huddled into the small living room of your suite in Niseko with the rest of your friends to watch the Grand Prix, you’d felt sick the second Carlos had passed Max.

“Fuck, fuck,” you’d slammed your hand on the table so hard that your coffee spilled. You didn’t even take your eyes off the screen. “Shit,”

You watched him crawl towards the pits, smoke billowing from the car. Get out, Max, get out. You all sat in silence until he was out of the car.

When the cameras showed an irate Max talking to an engineer in the garage, all Stan said was, “he’s going to be so pissed,”

He was. You’d tried to call him but it had gone straight to voicemail, a telltale sign that he just needed to stew in the rage for a while. You’d sent him a message telling him to call when he could but he hadn’t. You’d watched the rest of the race just to catch glimpses of him in the garage, hiding his disappointment so well.

Later, he’d texted he’d managed to get an earlier runway slot since he wasn’t attending a debrief and that he’d be in Japan by late afternoon, so you skipped out on dinner to meet him at the small airport in Hokkaido.

Max and Rupert disembark from the jet still talking, and you can see even from twenty metres away the day he’s had. There’s a tension in his jaw, he jogs down the steps of the plane, pushing a hand through his hair, which is getting a little bit too long. He’s moving a bit too quick and a bit too stiff for your comfort.

After nearly two weeks away from him, this is the last state you want to see him in, but you can’t ignore the sheer contentment that washes over you at seeing him at all. You’re pathetic and you know it, too clingy and too giddy, and part of you hopes that in ten years you’ll lose this feeling. Most of you knows you never will, because it’s always been there. You haven’t always called it what it was, but you always felt it. And he did, too.

You can tell by the way his shoulders sag when he comes into the building and spots you immediately, a small smile on his lips as you hurry towards him.

“Hey,” it’s whispered, an exhale, the wind knocked out of you as your body collides with his and you wind your arms around his neck. He’s warm and he smells like the t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in since the last time you saw him. You feel your feet leave the ground for a second and you don’t even know if that’s real.

His gentle, “hi,” is said into the skin of your neck, and it feels like a jolt of adrenaline fed straight to your jugular.

“You were on fire today,” you say, fingers tickling at newly cut hair at the back of his neck.

Max’s body shakes with a laugh as you pull away from him, but in an unusual twist, he knots his fingers with yours before you can move.

“I was hoping this was the day you decided to skip watching. Sorry you wasted your day,”

You squeeze his hand to get his hand to stop his eyes darting everywhere. “I didn’t waste my day, Max. Watching you isn’t a waste, ever,”

You know he’s thinking it’s a platitude, that he didn’t win so he might as well have been at home and you might as well have been skiing. You want to argue, make him hear you. He won’t believe you, and by rights he shouldn’t. So you let it go, because you have no choice.

“Yeah, that was an incredible lap I did there,” Max husks out a chuckle and looks away from you. He’s joking, but he isn’t. He’s let it go, because he has no choice.

“Well, I for one am more excited about the annual Suzuka revenge arc. It’s incredibly sexy, and now,” you say as you lean up to press a kiss to his jaw, your free hand slipping under his jacket so there’s one less layer between you, “I can do something about that,”

Max only hums in response, his fingers tightening around yours.

“Not to kill the mood, guys, but I am, you know, here,” Rupert says.

You’re embarrassed to admit you’re not actually sure when he collected his rucksack from the baggage trolley and came to stand beside Max.

Max laughs, a telltale blush spreading to his ears, while you let go of him and open your arms to Rupert.

“I could never forget you, Rupert,” you say as you hug him, “I just like an audience,”

“Oh my God,” Max groans, laughing harder. He throws his head back, and his face scrunches up. He’s looking more like himself by the second, and you figure you must be, too.

You start to meander towards the exit, following your bags out to the stupidly large SUV with the driver waiting to load your luggage. Rupert wastes no time climbing into the car, while you and Max linger by the boot of the car. This is the last moment you’ll have alone before you get in the car with Rupert, and then Max is swarmed by friends he hasn’t seen in months the second you get back.

“Oh,” you slide a hand into your pocket while Max watches you in confusion. “Here,”

You pull out his Cartier cuff and hold it out to him. He holds out his wrist and you put it back on for him, preparing for him to make some comment about how it didn’t bring him luck this time, and how superstition is stupid.

“No more skipping races,” is what he actually says, and you look up at him to find him pouting. The pout is cute but unserious. His eyes, however, make it seem like he’s asking. “Crazy shit happens when you’re not there,”

He’s right. This is the first race you’ve missed since Singapore last year

You give him a coy smirk. “Is that your way of saying you missed me?”

“No.” He says simply.

You’re surprised when he kisses you. He rarely does when you’re not alone, unless it’s a quick peck at parc fermé. This is a kiss that has him pulling you almost as close to him as you want to be, a kiss that feels a bit like getting back whatever part of you he took with him when he left.

When he lets go of you, he takes a second to look at you before leaning down to press one more kiss to your swollen lips.

“I missed you.” He says, no pout, all promise.

It will never not be embarrassing that three words from this nerd with one hobby and abysmal taste in t-shirts has you weak at in the knees.

“I missed you too, Maxy,” you say, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his forehead.

You both take one more deep breath before heading around the side of the car, where Max opens the door for you with the hand that isn’t holding yours.

“Real shame that race got cancelled, huh?” You say as you climb in, meeting Max’s gaze with a wink.

“Oh yeah,” Max agrees as he slides in behind you. “Really sad.”

[kithtaehyung]

busted (3tan) (m) | myg

title: busted  pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) , jungkook x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: when things go a bit south at your house party, decisions between you and yoongi have to be made. note: well. here we are, y’all. it’s been quite a long time, but we are back to regularly scheduled programming :’)) thank you to everyone that has supported and encouraged me throughout this whole process – and series, for that matter. i couldn’t have done this without y’all and the next part is already in the works. also i cried a lot writing this lol have fun! note 2: happy birthday, hedgehog! and to colourless and nicki and whoever else had birthdays recently, consider this my gift to y’all! warnings: language, the amount of content itself fck i’m so sorry, parties, alcohol consumption, tense situations, shoving, abandonment mentions (parental), obligatory yoongi on the phone, ch*king, head/hair pulling, reader has a pain kink and it shows oops, angst, overthinking :((, penetrative s*x, chains but come on now, protective s*x, cowgirl, or*l (m/f rec), edg*ng a ha ha, thro*tf*cking, kissing :’))), kissing D:, did i say angst?, bro😵‍💫, but also bro😭, jungkook gets a warning too, yoongi’s jeans are as ripped as he is heyo, hitting from the b b back, yoongi king of consent sheesh, multiple org*sms, spitting lmfao, sl*t/wh*re mentions, yoongi jfc lol, the aftercare y’all i–😭, the ending🧍  drop date: june 9th, 2023, 7:17pm est  word count: 18.8k gdi

-

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Here goes nothing and everything.

It was fifteen years ago when you first met Jungkook. When the sidewalks in your neighborhood were fewer and the occupancy in your house was higher. 

A tiny boy, he was immediately ready to stay by your side, despite the limited amount of time he got to hang around before his parents corralled his energy back inside their car. 

Later on, he would tell you that had something to do with them not wanting him influenced by your brother and his group. But you didn’t know that at the time. 

Ever since the two of you met, you became the best of friends. And as you grew older, it was only natural that feelings bloomed with everything else. 

In the midst of an ever changing garden, you found something that never wavered, vibrant in color and immovable at its root. 

Which was strange. You’d never compared people to flora before him. 

But, because of Jungkook, you couldn’t help but see everyone as such—lilies, buttercups, the ones that trap to survive. 

And he was the prettiest, strongest flower of them all.

There was rain. There were storms. But with them came hope, and a pair of cheap rings that the two of you bought nestled nicely in boxes, waiting to be unearthed when you were ready.

However. 

What also came was a lesson. One that you would learn again when two of every seat remained unused in your household. 

A lesson that people are more like seasons than flowers.

They change with or without you. 

And they pass by.

“We can go somewhere quieter if you want,” Jungkook offers. And you know he’s going to suggest your room before he even utters the words.

But of course he adds a small, “If I’m allowed in there anymore.”

When he laughs, your smile is as slow as your head shake, a few memories of old tasting bittersweet on your tongue. “We can.”

“Okay.”

When you make your way to your room, you hear the thumps of music and rhythms of conversation—both casual and loud—echoing throughout the house. Some people are sharing laughs, others are scooting just a bit closer, and a lucky one is cackling before demanding that everyone hand over their money. 

All of them oblivious to the fact that you’re about to rip off a piece of your heart.

Well. That may not be the case. But based on the conversation that you had with Jungkook before your interview, this wasn’t going to be an easy one in the slightest—not for him, nor for you.

But if he’s gonna keep pushing forward, this is a stop you need to put up regardless.

During a party isn’t what you had in mind, though. Much less one in your own house.

You don’t know if anyone sees you open your door for Jungkook to pass through, or if they notice the slump of your mood, but you figure no one will care anyways. 

Until you see someone out of the corner of your peripheral.

And the skip of your heart tells you who it is.

Occupying one of the hallways a ways away, you can tell he’s very aware of you despite being in the middle of a chatty group.

But what’s on his mind? Is he worried? Is he gonna ask what this is about?

Damn it. You’re just gonna have to tell him later. You can’t exactly do anything now. 

A voice peeps from behind your tense shoulders,

“You okay?”

Fuck. 

Turning, you nod to the boy in your room before shutting your door, giving one more look to the man whose last text you couldn’t read.

And the way he stares makes you wanna bolt from everyone entirely.

When your door clicks shut, you slowly swivel, only the bass of your brother’s music pushing the walls in closer. 

Jungkook’s doing exactly what you knew he’d do, wandering around your room and either leaning in to observe, or lightly touching things that he remembers. 

The soft puff of a laugh snaps you into focus. “I can’t believe you still have all his medals up.”

Ah. He even remembers the way you have all your brother’s trophies and achievements displayed—all because you liked seeing them shine, and he didn’t want them in his room.

Sweeping your gaze along two of your walls, you let out a tiny sound of amusement while agreeing, “I can. Too lazy to take them down.” 

“I can do it,” he immediately responds. “If you need me to.”

If it had been five years ago, you would’ve been enamored that he even offered.

But five years ago is when he shattered any hopes you had for the two of you, so you turn him down yet again. “It’s okay.” 

“You sure?”

“We’re here to talk, not decorate, Jungkook.”

He stares before nodding in dejection, eyes finding something other than you. “It’s still weird to hear you say my name.”

It’s weird to say it. 

But you can’t let him know you agree, so the sound you make is half-cautious and weakly lighthearted. “You think so?”

“Ah, yeah.” He flashes a smile that still squeezes air from your lungs. “I’d gotten too used to all the names you had for me.”

“Oh, god.”

“But I guess someone else gets to hear them now.”

Goddamn it. He’s not gonna give up, just like he said right before your interview. 

“Who are you seeing?” 

“Kook…” 

“I wanna know.” 

“Why?”

He walks over to your nightstand, picking up a picture of you and your friends from years back. 

And your heart pangs at how big his back has become. 

Without turning, Jungkook lifts his head to stare at your ceiling. And if he’s wondering whether the glow stars he stuck all over it are still there or not, you don’t know if you’d admit that you never took them down. 

“So that I’d know if I still have a chance.” 

“You already had yours,” you whisper. “Remember?”

And when you look up, he’s already staring at you with regret. 

Memories start to come back, but you shove them away with force, trying to empty your sinking boat with a teaspoon. 

Every time he had walked back from school with you, every time he would make you laugh when you felt alone, every time he stayed at your place when your brother had to be out—all of them competed with each other to punch you in the gut and push you to your knees. 

“I do,” is all he says before softly placing the frame on your bed. “I fucked that up, didn’t I.” 

The times he said he’d be there when you needed him, the times he said it was gonna be okay when you struggled with your seemingly deepest darkest secrets. 

All the times you knew you’d have a long future with him. 

“You did.”

Everything leading up to the time he said you should break up before you left for university.

Right before you were going to tell him you loved him.

Your heart hasn’t beat in awhile, but you don’t notice until Jungkook starts walking towards your planted feet. Was he really so far away? How did he cover the distance between so fast?

With a sigh occupying your chest, you muse that he looks so different, but also not different at all. 

And just like the time you saw him downtown, your brain doesn’t know how to separate the Jungkook you knew from the one you see in front of you. 

Because they are still the same.

You don’t budge as he stands resolute, inches away but encasing you in his familiar presence. When his hand comes up to your face, he almost touches—but the slight hesitation has you holding your breath before he surrenders his hand at his side. 

“I was an idiot,” he admits, throat seemingly small and making yours the same size. “I never should’ve… I can’t believe I…” 

You watch as he flips his head up, and you hate how you know exactly what he’s trying to hide. 

But your soul still remembers the wound it was dealt. So while you don’t want him feeling this way, you’re perfectly okay to fight back. 

He doesn’t get to cry when he’s the reason for all those tears. 

“And yet you did,” you remind him, proud of how stable your voice leaves lips that used to seek his. “And you left me so fucking confused.” 

“I know.”

“Do you really?” 

He flickers regretful eyes your way, giving you all the room to talk. 

And you’re going to.

“Do you actually know, Kook? How fucked up that made me feel right before going where I knew nobody. No one.” 

His nostrils flare while eyebrows flinch. 

You expel a tough breath, everything that happened before bubbling up to the surface. The nights you spent wondering what happened, the days you spent feeling unwanted, the times you felt so fucking alone.

“Is it true that you even loved me?”

“Yes,” he finally shatters, face contorting and eyes welling at their rims. “Of course I did.” 

Did.

“I still do.”

Liar.

“I thought I was the only one.” You search his eyes, hating how you would comfort him in an instant if this were any other circumstance. Hating, hating, loathing that this is how you find out your love wasn’t unrequited. “Why did you push me away?” 

“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to…” He turns, unable to handle the loud silence streaming from your bones. Voice shaken, he flounders, “I don’t know. I’ve—” 

When he pauses, it’s to keep his lips from shaking. You just know it. 

“I’ve regretted it every day since.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“I have!”

“Really. So all those texts you never sent were full of regret, too, huh?” 

“No, I—”

“All those calls you never made.” 

“I wanted to call!”

“You wanted nothing to do with me!”

“No! That’s not true—”

“Liar!”

He digs palms into the soaking divots of his face, tense at all angles and making you so, so angry that this is what the both of you have come to. 

“I’m not lying!”

“You are!”

You thought it would feel better seeing him cry. 

But it’s not, it’s not, it’s not. You hate this. 

Because Jungkook made sure your tears were short-lived. Made sure to chase them away every single time—

There’s a rapid twist of your locked doorknob before you hear a shout,

“What the hell’s going on in there!”

Shit, your brother. Were you both yelling? 

…Were you both that loud?

“We’re fine!” you shout back, embarrassed that your fight somehow managed to outperform the aux. “It’s okay.”

“Open the door.”

“No.”

“You better be serious—”

“Promise!” You look toward the shouts. “We’re okay.” 

“…Okay.”

And then it’s completely silent.

But you know he hasn’t left. 

Fuck, he can’t hear the rest of this. He shouldn’t have heard any of it in the first place, and you can feel the heat of his questions coming later tonight. 

Which, you are fine answering when it’s just the two of you. But you cannot have anyone hovering right now so you go to open the door and tell him off, 

“Dude, I said I’m—”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi’s right there with him.

And your heart fucking lurches.

Fuck fuck fuck they both see your tears and you’re getting moved aside before you know it now there’s—

“The fuck are you doing making them cry?”

“Wait, it’s not like th—”

“You come into our house after years—”

“Stop!”

“And pull some shit like this?”

Alarmed, you squeeze yourself between him and a very wide-eyed Jungkook, having to wrestle an angry wrist off a captured bicep. “Seriously, relax!”

You and your brother have a thousand differences. 

But one thing you two have in common? 

He’s just as stubborn as you are. 

A strong swipe moves you back so fast that your feet can’t keep up, and you find yourself stumbling until firm hands and familiar cologne keep you upright, voices springing up all at once.

“I’m not—”

“Hey—!”

“The fuck—”

“What’s wrong with you?” you question, commanding attention and snagging both your brother’s and Jungkook’s stares.

Barely even caring if they see where you are and who’s holding you. 

Because this is all stupid. It’s not fucking high school and you aren’t some kid that needs their useless, shitty, good-for-nothing parents to stand up for them. 

Resisting Yoongi’s grip until he lets go, you stalk up to rip your brother’s hand off your ex’s arm, voice darkened and sharp, “Get out.”

Breath hard, the reply you get is directed more at Jungkook than your own pinched brows, 

“Why should I.”

“Cus it’s fine,” you shoot out, sparing a glance at Yoongi and regretting it immediately. 

Because he’s not looking at you. He probably wasn’t ever looking at you.

No. Based on that look alone, he’s been eyeing Jungkook with an energy that sends chills straight through your veins.

It’s so unmoving, so infernal that your throat dries, forcing you to swallow before laying more reassurance on three pairs of tense shoulders. “It’s alright, okay? We’re just talking.”

“…So it’s like that?”

Jungkook immediately replies to your sibling with a monotone, “Of course it is.”

To which he moves forward again before you stop him with a hand and a shout, 

“The fuck it isn’t—” 

“It is! Fucking hell, dude...” 

You force an exhale, hating how your room is overflowing while you’re still drowning in the conversation prior. 

Because now one talk is gonna sprout into three, and you already dread what each one is going to look like when it develops. 

You hope Jungkook understands that you’re done. 

You hope your brother understands that you’re tired. 

And, above all the others, you hope to any high power out there that Yoongi understands that you are anything but finished. 

When the tension doesn’t budge, you sigh and shift your weight.

“Look. We’re just talking. But I need to speak to him alone.” You breathe with finality, eyeing your sibling and his ride or die—hating and loving how ready they are to do whatever they need to, together.

But they don’t have to do anything. 

Except let you do this yourself. 

“Please.” 

After a moment, they both look over your shoulder before your brother watches your face again. 

But Yoongi seems to have finally caught Jungkook’s attention, because his eyes haven’t broken their lock until you say something,

“Trust me.”

Two weighty seconds pass before both men nod. And they leave without a word, emotions toppling on each other as soon as your door shuts. 

When you walk up to lock it shut, you stare at the knob in silence. 

While that was massively uncalled for, it could’ve gone much worse. You can already think of over a hundred outcomes, because that’s a look you’ve seen on your brother many times. 

However. That’s not what has you lost in thought.

What keeps you frozen is the fact that you have never seen Yoongi like that.

It almost scared you, but somehow comforts you all the same. You can still feel the way he subtly squeezed you in assurance, pressing you into him when you really didn’t fall that far. There’s a jittering in your chest that hasn’t simmered, and it makes you feel like you’re halfway floating back to where Jungkook stands.

But you’re promptly grounded when you rejoin him, voice soft when you ask if he’s okay. 

“He hasn’t changed,” is all he whispers. 

And you look at the door with a sigh of disappointment. “He has a little. Still uptight as ever, but. At least I can leave the house.” 

“Yoongi was a surprise.”

Oxygen abandons your lungs before you quickly catch yourself. “They’re best friends.”

Jungkook glares at the floor in thought before exhaling, and his silence seems charged. Almost off.

“Right.”

…Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?

Is it because he saw when Yoongi caught you? Or the fact that he showed up at all? 

“Hey,” you whisper, hoping to rope him away from whatever scary things he could be pondering. When he flicks his attention to you, it takes a lot to not flinch at his watery eyes. “Ignore them. We aren’t finished here.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and your conversation jumps right back to where it was. “For everything.” 

“I know.” You close your eyes before sadness lowers your gaze. “But it’s gonna hurt for awhile.” 

Even if you get this closure, it can’t cover all the years he made you doubt yourself. Made you feel like everything you went through was a lie and that love was something you just didn’t deserve. Confidence vaporized as a result, leaving nothing but issues and manufactured intimacy for years. 

Maybe that’s why everyone said you were a bad lay before. Because you actually were. 

Through your thick haze, you hear a faint, broken, 

“You loved me?”

“I…” Don’t say it. Don’t tell him. “I still do.”

“What?”

Fuck. 

It’s true. While he broke your heart first, he still cared for it more than anyone else after him had—until recently. The only grief he gave you was the breakup, which was why it threw you for an absolute loop. 

As you grew up, though, you started to rationalize that the split was a good decision. He was moving, and you were leaving for college. How would you both have fared with the long distance? It probably would have ended one way or the other anyways. 

So while the resentment burned your heart, it didn’t quite rid you of affection. What you feel as a result is similar to before, but so very, very different. Subdued. Faded. Like jeans you wore constantly but haven’t touched in years. 

In all honesty, what broke you the hardest was losing a dear friend. 

“I do,” you finally admit, not looking at him because of your next words, “But not the way you want me to.” 

Jungkook doesn’t respond, letting the outside world bleed into the room like a bitter interlude.

When he still makes no sound, you lift weary eyes to check on him.

And your chest constricts at the way he looks utterly and totally lost. 

When you call his name, his gaze doesn’t leave the floor. When you whisper it again, the tear that falls makes you weak. “Kook, what’s wrong?”

He finally looks up, and you feel your eyes quickly reflect his. “I was so stupid,” he sniffles, wiping his nose. “I really didn’t know. Honestly, I knew that was impossible.” 

For some reason, this makes you chuckle, and a new mood starts to paint the walls. “Why?”

“Because you were so cool.” His smile hasn’t changed. And that’s what cuts the deepest. “And I was just there because I always was.” 

“What?” You start to join him in bittersweet recollection, albeit from a different perspective. When you reach forward to point at his necklace—because you will not touch the ring—you softly laugh. “Then what were these for, silly?” 

When he sighs, you can feel the cracks in his curve. “I’ve been told that I’m clueless.” 

“You are,” you say with a sagging grin. “Extremely.” 

He laughs again. So do you. 

And the both of you break all at once. 

He’s crushing you in a hug and you’re crying into his clothes, hands gripping at his jacket and shoulder feeling the weight of his world. 

While he repeats that he’s sorry, you choke out that you are, too. When he says it was never your fault, you cry even harder. 

You fucking hate this. Now that you know the truth, it hurts that much worse. You hate, hate, hate that this is what everything came to. Everything that you both went through, destroyed by one mistake at the bitter end. 

But you need to move on. You need to sacrifice the past for the future. 

“I still love you,” he whispers, and you tense when he tightens his arms. “And I’m still sorry.”

“You idiot,” you cry into his chest, and you hear him hold back a sob before burying his head again.

And the two of you stay like that. One last embrace that you both needed.

Reminiscing over everything that doesn’t matter anymore.

When you both calm, you feel like it’s been hours. 

But you move to step away first, confused at the way he doesn’t let you leave. 

What’s he doing? Why is his mouth hovering over yours? You need to move. You need to move away. 

But all you can do is plead, “I can’t.”

Still, Jungkook moves in. 

Leaning to kiss just next to your lips instead.

What once would have lit your soul on fire now feels like a tempered flame, the smallest light of a candle before it burns out. And you’re grateful that he respects you enough to not push in a time of weakness. 

You move away again, and he lets you go this time. But not without last words, “Promise me this person is alright.”

“I promise.” 

“Only alright? I have a chance then.”

“Kook.” When you give him an empty glare, dying stars still linger in his eyes. “Friends?”

His lips give away his breaking heart before he nods. “I’m not leaving you again.”

Swallowing, you spread a thankful smile. “You better not,” you sniffle. “I need to decorate.” 

He huffs, giving you one more teary stare. “If they ever hurt you, let me know.” 

“I’ll be okay.” 

After a noncommittal nod, he stands until you politely tell him you need a minute. When he leaves, you wait until the door shuts before wiping nothing from your cheek.

Wondering why this closure doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest.

You don’t know how long it’s been. Time doesn’t exactly flow when you’re caught between the past and the present. 

But when you open your door, Dom is watching you with pure, unadulterated focus.

And your face scrunches in pain before she ushers you back inside.

She doesn’t say anything as you sit on your bed, offering her shoulder even though she doesn’t prefer physical contact.

While you’re grateful—so, so thankful for her presence—intermittent sniffles are the only sound you’re capable of. 

Until you stabilize and come up for air, fishing words from your river of grief, “Remember what I told you. When he broke up with me.”

Anger simmers in her reply as her shoulder moves under your chin. You assume by the movements that she’s typing something on her phone—or prepping for revenge, either one of the two. “I do.”

“He said he still loves me.”

Your first thought is proven correct as a device plops onto your comforter. “Bullshit.”

“Dom…”

“What? Like he loved you then, too?” She scoffs. “You were the one that loved him and he cut you out. He needs to get over that.”

“He said it was a mistake.” 

“It sure as fuck was.” 

“I dunno. Something just doesn’t sit right.” You swipe at your nose. “He looked so.. I just…” 

“Uh uh. It’s too fresh.” She gently lifts your heavy cloud off her person, firm fingers squeezing out rain. “You gotta get out of your own damn head right now.” 

“I know.”

“Now.”

You break into another sob, hiccuping before nodding. “It just sucks, Dom. I d—”

“Look, I get that. But everything you’re thinking about already happened. It’s done.” A glance is thrown behind her back before she swivels around. “Focus on what you have now.” 

In your moments of weakness, you ask the dumbest things, 

“What do I have now.”

As always, Dominique is quick and to the point. “A man that’s waiting outside your door.”

Huh?

Your eyes flash up to hers as she stands. “Wait, what?”

What did she say? What does she mean? How does she know that what’s going on— 

“One minute,” she warns, far away and not to you. “Then you’re on your own.”

“K.”

Wait, what.

You don’t even realize you’re vacating your bed as you see him walk in, nodding back at Dom closing the door before regarding your wreck of a face. 

His name is molasses on your tongue.

What is he doing? Isn’t the party still on? Why is he walking closer? 

He’s not supposed to be in here he can’t be here and you’re telling him that but he pulls you in so tight that the rest of your tears rain down in sheets. 

“Fuck,” is all you can manage now, and he crushes you in even harder, as if he wants you pressed against all of him forever like a keepsake leaf on a journal page.

Your voice writes words into his clothes, silence his only reply but the only one you need. 

Even if you only get a minute, this is enough. It’s enough, not enough, enough.

When he holds you at arm’s length, his question comes out a bit fast-paced, “What happened?” 

Damn it. As much as you should probably tell him, you use precious seconds to pause, not really knowing if you want to or not. 

“Don’t sweat it,” he quickly understands, kissing your forehead just as chaste. When he moves again, you catch the tension in his shoulders, notice the ruffles in his hair. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yes. No.” Fuck, he kinda looks as rattled as you feel. What is happening right now? “I just, umm. I need a minute.”

“You don’t have to go back out there, you know.”

“But you do,” you counter. “And I just wanna see you.” 

Finally, Yoongi stops, and his whole upper body relaxes at once. A beautiful sound to your ears, amusement huffs out his nose before he mutters, “You can’t keep saying shit like that.” 

“But it’s true.” 

His chuckle is light, and mischievous eyes find the ground before they lift to yours,

“Makes me wanna take you home.” 

Well. You swiftly realize why he doesn’t want you to keep saying certain things. The zing of emotion through your body was definitely uncalled for. 

Any other day, you would want this type of conversation to keep going. And maybe you’d be a little coy about it. 

But right now, all you are is tired, and your barriers are crumbled enough for a truth to escape. 

Resigned, you step closer to wrap his waist in your arms, not caring if he can feel the rapid beats of your heart. “I want you to do that,” you admit, breath warming your face on his already warmer shirt. “All the time.” 

“Take you home?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

Yoongi runs fingers along your arm. “You know I’d do it if I could, doll.” 

If you were someone else. If you didn’t have to hide. 

If you didn’t have to wait. 

At least you don’t have to wait for much longer. Definitely can’t say anything to your brother tonight, but you and Yoongi agreed on after this party. So things will be better from here on out. 

But why does he seem so—

You’re spooked by a warning knock on your door, and you flicker eyes to see his filled with something you don’t like. 

And the air suddenly shifts to something alarming.

“Listen.”

“Hmm?”

“I know we said we’d say something.”

Oh. You shake your head, already on the same page and liking how in sync you are. “There’s no way. At least, not tonight. Jungkook—”

“It may need to be a bit longer than that.”

Huh.

What does he mean by—

“So you probably won’t see me for awhile.”

You freeze. 

So does time. 

A minute is no longer enough.

“Yoongi, please—”

“Can you do that?”

Your heart slams against your ribcage, banging and banging and screaming that what he’s asking is not possible.

Because he isn’t asking what you want to do. He isn’t even asking how long you can wait. 

There’s a reason why he’s risking all sorts of shit to say this in person. Why he seems so restless. 

And you’re already missing him so hard it hurts.

Truthfully? You can’t do this. Not now. Not when your heart is bleeding out on your own bedroom floor. There isn’t even enough time to process Jungkook’s talk and now you need to deal with this?

“Babe?”

But despite what you feel, even if your throat is seizing and your chest is caving in, your answer will be what he needs. 

Because seeing Yoongi look like this—torn and frayed at the edges—renders you powerless and protective all at once. For fuck’s sake, he looks slightly panicked and this is the second new side of him you’ve seen tonight.

And yet he found a way to be with you one last time. 

Sacrificing seconds just to say goodbye. 

So you give up something, too. Your wants and needs because you don’t think you can do this, but it seems way too important to him to not try. 

You get it. That whole confrontation probably snapped all sense back into him. He doesn’t want to hurt his best friend. Or disrupt his work environment. Or both. Whatever whatever whatever. You should’ve seen this coming.

If distance is what he wants, you’ll give it. Instant karma because you just told someone else to give you some, too.

Of course you lose someone as soon as you gain back another.

“Doll, let me know because—”

“Anything,” you rush out, and yearning taints your voice on the descent. “I’ll do it.”

He pans from one eye to the other, and you weakly reveal a crack in your resolve,

“Anything for you.”

That answer was a lot more than what you meant to say. And the next look he gives rips you into shreds. Shreds of the bigger truth you just told him with moments left of his time.

“For us,” he corrects, swooping in to give you one more soul-shattering kiss.

And with that, he pulls away, turning to retreat into the real world that proves absurdly cruel. 

You don’t know when you’ll get to be alone with him again. It could be a day. Or months. Or even longer.

But watching him go, you know you can get through this. You know you can do it. 

Because this is nothing new. Just another person leaving. You’ve gone through it before and you’ll go through it again and this time will be different, right? Right? He’ll come back. Of course he will. 

And yet there’s still a part of you that questions.

If people are like seasons… 

Which one will Yoongi be?

Fuck.

Your body is moving before the rest of you does, and you propel forward to tug him in, flooding his lips with saltwater and longing and a deluge of reluctant trust. 

And he responds in an instant, swallowing you in an embrace you’ll cherish forever and willingly giving in to your desperate tugs on his jacket.

“Yoongi, I—”

You hear another insistent knock before he slings you into the nearest wall, and he grips the back of your head so hard you sob into his mouth. 

“I know.”

His name rattles around your mouth.

“It’ll be okay.”

You wanna believe him.

“Okay?”

But you only nod, eyes filled with oceans but gaze unwavering. Because you need to see him. Because you need to see him. 

“Fuck.” 

He smashes his lips on yours once more, capturing every soft plea for him to stay and holding you so tightly that your heart splinters. And while you know this is his way of telling you everything will be okay, you have a sinking suspicion that he is fighting to believe it himself.

It’s not fair.

None of this is fucking fair. 

If he was anyone else, if you were anyone else, if your brother wasn’t the way he was, if Jungkook wasn’t in the position he’s in now. 

It was just nights ago that you cradled all his moonlight in your palms.

And now you’ll be farther apart than stars. 

Yoongi finally pulls away right as Dom opens the door, and a myriad of emotions slosh into your brain when his eyes never leave you. 

“I got us,” he vows, finger on your chin the sole thing keeping you afloat, and you suspend in disbelief that someone you know is witnessing his lips press your forehead in real time and no explosions or helicopters are crashing onto the scene.

Just a panicked “Hurry up, for god’s sake!” to indicate your friend is not amused or phased.

Yoongi finally steps away, slowly backing up before slipping out, and the door closes with only you inside—hand clawing deep into your chest. 

Because you know him well enough.

He was committing your every feature to memory. 

And the desperation in his reddened eyes hunches you forward in pain.

The rest of the party goes on. Music booms, people laugh, conversations sparkle.

And you hear them all through your door.

Unmoved from the spot everyone left you in.

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: Hey

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: You up or nah?

You [1:40am]: yeah

Idiot🙄 [1:40am]: Help me clean up

You scoff at your phone, letting it fall from your hand before resting tired eyes between your knees. 

When it buzzes again, you reluctantly read it with vision unreflecting.

Idiot🙄 [1:42am]: Left food for you, too

That you will leave your room for. You may have just cried out your weight in tears alone.

You🙄 [1:46am]: ok

Idiot🙄 [1:46am]: 👍

Cleaning is a quiet event, with you both doing the chores you’ve defaulted to over the years. While he clears the floors and deals with the trash, you steadily get through the dishes, scrubbing them as well as you can before placing them in the washer to dry.

A plate. A bowl after that. 

Two whisky glasses even though there were plenty of solo cups to use.

You needed this. Needed a way of going through the motions and letting your brain fly on autopilot. If you sniffle, the water drowns it out, and only the dishes get to see any lingering tears.

And unluckily for you, there are plenty of both.

“Hey.”

You hum.

“Do I need to beat his ass?”

Well, that didn’t take long. 

Frustration tears its way up your throat on all fours, “I should kick yours for what you did back there.”

“And I’d deserve it.” 

You pause.

“But I still wanna know.” 

Sighing, you shake your head, knowing that neither of you are angry enough to fight anyways. “No, okay? I was serious. We talked.” 

“I know you talked but he still hurt you.”

Your lip stings under your teeth.

“And I can’t just let that go.”

When he stops, you place another dish on its rack. “Let’s just finish and I’ll tell you everything in a sec.” 

He sets down the last of his trash before retiring in the living room, the thump of weary weight squeezing a sigh out of the couch.

And you eventually join him, water cutting off with a squeak before you shuck off your gloves. 

As you walk through the cleaned-enough rooms, you keep hearing afterimages of conversations, wondering how many revolved around your shouting match with Jungkook, or how many speculated who Yoongi is or isn’t seeing. 

All these pretend scenarios mock you from all sides. 

But the conversation you’re about to have with your brother is gonna be real. And a long time coming, quite frankly. 

You take a breath before crossing into a space that’s seen and heard many things. While you take residence in your regular spot on the sofa, your brother doesn’t deter his gaze from a television that’s not on.

But as soon as you blurt out your confession, he slowly closes his eyes. 

“He broke up with me. Before I left for school.” 

“...Why didn’t you tell me.”

Brows scrunched, you waste no time in pinning him with your response, “Did you see yourself back there? Imagine if you found out back then.”

Silence. 

“Besides,” you continue, deflating back into the cushions, “He was moving, remember? And you had enough going on. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I always worry.” 

“It’s whatever at this point. I didn’t even know he was back until Yoo—you told me.”

Shit, that was close. 

“I shouldn’t have made it a surprise.” 

“Not your fault. What’s done is done.” When you observe the blank screen, you can see your brother aim a look your way. “Just made the whole uni thing miserable at first.” 

And the years after, too, but he doesn’t need the same details that Yoongi got. 

He sighs, hand scratching the side of his head before free-falling. When it’s quiet, you think he’s preparing for war. Prepping a vow to go after Jungkook and dealing with a problem that’s not yours anymore. 

But he doesn’t do that. What he says catches you completely off guard.

An apology.

“I’m sorry I’m always gone. Or not really here when I’m back.” 

Where did that come from? Are you already done with a talk you dreaded for years? 

This can’t be it. 

Blinking, your mouth slowly opens before you respond as level as possible. “It’s okay. I can pretty much fend for myself at this point.” 

“I know. But I’ll try to be better.” 

He’s gonna what? “Why?”

“Cus I feel… Uhh.” He moves his lips around in thought, as if the next sentence takes strategy to arrange. “I feel like we don’t really talk anymore.” 

“…Oh.”

You’re thoroughly thrown. Because who the hell is this person you’re talking to right now? What’s up with him? He doesn’t need to try anything better except calm the fuck down sometimes. And let you be an adult.

And frankly, you feel like you talk a normal amount anyway. At least, you didn’t think anything was off about it. 

What the hell happened after he left your room?

Suddenly, you see him laugh at the ground before asking it a question. “Remember when we’d go get our own food?” 

Alright, he’s definitely drunk or a clone. 

But you’ll take it. This switch in what you expected this conversation to be is a welcome one, and you softly entertain memories that aren’t supposed to be this funny. “Yeah. We’d get told to come back with our parents.” 

“Until they realized we kept going alone.” 

A memory makes you smirk. “You even tried dressing like a grown up.” 

He chuckles again, elbows resting on his knees as he watches your coffee table. “I really thought I did it, too.” 

“You did.” Thinking about all the shit you both went through, it’s truly a wonder how you’re both still here. Living and existing and doing big things. 

A rueful chuckle leaves your lips, floating to the floor. “We’re fucked up, huh.” 

“Very,” he agrees. “But who isn’t.” 

True. “It could be worse, I think.” 

“How?” 

You play with some of the frays on your sofa, wondering when this piece of furniture started to resemble thin lines of too-soft polyester at its edges. 

Did it start to give up around the same time your parents did? Or had their patience worn thin way before the threads on this cushion began to fade? 

Whichever truth remains, at least it’s still here—witnessing all the struggles and triumphs, the highs and lows, and all the times the two of you had sat in puffy-eyed silence. 

Together. 

“They could’ve left us somewhere else.” 

“Ah,” he nods, slowly shaking his head and twisting the watch on his wrist. “Nah.” 

Silent, your eyes find his side profile in due time. “No?”

And his glare burns the path ahead. Just like it always has. “I wouldn’t have let them.” 

“Oh, really.”

“I got them to leave us all this, didn’t I?”

Wait, he did what now?

…You didn’t know that. 

“Hold on,” you breathe slow. “That’s what happened?”

“We had a deal.” He sighs before leaning all the way back, hands joined at the knuckles on his stomach. “If I graduated with full marks and, uhh. Got a starting salary high enough, they’d pay for your tuition.”

The pause he makes weighs a ton. 

“And leave this to us when you came back.” 

So… He… 

Holy shit. 

You were just fucking relieved you didn’t have to pay any loans. For once, you thought your parents really had your best interests in mind and did something out of kindness before peacing the fuck out. 

But it’s all because your brother negotiated and pulled off the near impossible? 

…Is he paying loans? 

“I didn’t know any of that,” you whisper, finding yourself on the verge of tears again.

He simply shrugs, looking down at his cherished piece that he rarely takes off. “You didn’t need to. You were just a kid.”

“So were you.”

Your brother purses his lips, and you wonder what words he could be holding back. What thoughts he has that he won’t say out loud. If any of them are things he wants to say but can’t. 

“It’s whatever.”

He had to grow up fast so that you didn’t have to. 

And you don’t have the heart to tell him that university fast tracked that anyways. 

So, while grateful as hell and knowing you’ll be thinking about this conversation for years, you switch the subject. You’re already overwhelmed as is. 

And you suddenly understand what Yoongi might be struggling with, too. 

Because if he did all this for you, what lengths has he gone for his best friend? 

Shoving that thought into a far corner of your brain, you rest your head to mirror your sibling, letting your tears slide back to where they came from. “I, umm. Was wondering why they left us the house. But I figured they just didn’t wanna pay for it.” 

“It was already paid off,” he explains, seemingly just as happy to talk about something else. “Don’t ask me how I know this, but it’s how I was able to negotiate in the first place. They had four other properties, and a condo on some island.” 

“What.”

“That’s why they were rarely here. Work trips, my ass.” He scoffs before bouncing a leg. “And they had us in this place.” 

“I like it here, though.”

“I do, too, but…” You hear a shuffle of his feet before he stops. “I just. I dunno, it’s just us here. It feels...” 

“Empty?” 

“Maybe. More like something’s missing? I dunno, that’s probably lame.” 

You inhale before assuring him. “It’s not.” 

And with that, you’re both left to stare at the same ceiling, conversation stewing and simmering around the whole room.

Usually, this is when you leave. Because you don’t wanna talk about shit like this, or you simply feel like doing anything else. 

But tonight, you want to stay. You didn’t know these things about your brother and what he did, and it’s making you realize a lot of things. 

And regret others. 

A question rolls off your tongue before you can overthink it, “Do you ever wonder what we did wrong?” 

“All the time.” 

“When I think about it, I always end up thinking the same thing.” 

“Hmm.” 

You tilt your head his way. “We weren’t the adults. But neither were they.” 

And you both huff in tandem after he grins. “Damn.” 

You don’t know how the two of you got here. But it was much better than talking about anything else, and you silently thank him for not making you more miserable than you already were. 

Truthfully, you feel a little better instead.

He just needs to know for sure that you really are past the whole situation. Mostly. A healthy amount, at least. 

So you tell him. “I mean it, thou—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” You look over to see regret fill his side of the couch.

“For what I did. I was outta line.”

“Oh.” You swallow, surprisingly emotional that he’s even owning up to it. You know it only happened because he was being protective, but hearing this from him is huge. That had to be hard. “Thank you.”

“I just.. I love you, okay?” He turns to look at the ceiling again, and you quickly have to do the same because you know how that was even tougher to say. “You and my brothers.. You’re all I’ve got.” 

Liquid emotion runs down your cheek, never having been told that more than once in a single day.

It’s a shame how foreign it sounds when you say it back. 

But that doesn’t make it any less true.

“Love you, too.”

An hour later, you find yourself in bed, clutching your phone while a single question loops through your brain.  

…Calling should be okay, right?

Even if you can’t see him, or really be in the same room, this should be okay. At least, in the dead of night when even birds are asleep. When no one is awake to judge you both for lying to the people you... 

Your chest squeezes when you press down on your decision, the talk with your brother repeating in your ears.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

It’s ringing.

Still ringing.

…And you feel your chest cave when you hear it go to voicemail.

Fuck. 

Maybe he’s sleeping already. Unforeseen circumstances like emotional turmoil tend to slow down your getting ready for bed process, so it took a lot longer than usual. Maybe he isn’t actively avoiding your calls and is just face down in a pillow you miss using.

And maybe you need to get used to this god-awful feeling as quickly as you can. 

This hollow, aching, painful feeli—

Yoongi: Incoming Call

Your chest booms when you see his name, and you try your absolute hardest to answer normally even though instant tears blur the screen.

“H—”

“Sorry, I was showering, fuck.”

His breath sounds so rushed, and you immediately wonder what he looks like if he didn’t take that long to answer. Imagining him in only a towel or less, you let out a pained chuckle before whispering, “You okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”

Of course that’s his answer. “I’m not. Just wondering if you were.”

“Why would I be if you aren’t? Ow.”

Body alert, you only focus on that last syllable. “Wait, are you hurt?”

You hear a low grunt before he responds. 

“Just hit my fucking knee getting out.” 

Ouch. How the hell did he do that? “I’m sorry. You got ice, though, right?” 

“It’s not that bad. Just stings.” 

“Okay.”  

There’s some crunching sounds before you hear footsteps and hisses, and a thump before other noise crackles through. 

“Spoke to Kook.” 

Shit.

“And the guys.”

Oh. About work. “What’s up?”

“We’re gonna be busy as shit for the next month or two, so.. Guess that came at a good time.” 

Ah. No finish line in sight.

But he didn’t hide that information from you, so you appreciate the honesty. Better than him leaving you in complete darkness.

“Yeah, do your thing,” you support. “I need to prep for this interview anyway. And figure shit out if I end up getting the job.” 

“When you get it.”

You exhale, shy. “When I get it, yeah.”

“Where is it again? That blue building, yeah?”

“Mmhmm. But where I’ll be is like, third floor.”

“See? Claiming shit already.”

You realize right as he says it, but you meant something completely different. Your laugh is soft. “I meant for the interview.” 

“Mm. Well lemme know where you post up after they hire you.”

“Yoongi.”

“Fine.”

“Did you, umm. Did you and Kook talk about anything else?”

“Just work stuff.”

“Okay.” Your eyes lower. If he’s telling you everything, you gotta reciprocate. 

Even the stuff you don’t wanna mention. “He tried to kiss me.”

“What.”

Swallowing at his tone, you whisper, “I told him I couldn’t.” 

“…I see.”

Fuck. He does not sound okay with that in the slightest. Disappointed with yourself, you apologize, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh? Don’t be.”

“You sound mad.”

There’s another moment of silence, and you don’t think you breathe until he responds,

“Not at you, doll.”

Well, shit. You don’t wanna cause any friction between them, especially after the energy Jungkook gave off earlier. It’s still bugging you to hell. “Nothing happened, baby. But he felt really off after y’all left, so.. I dunno. Be careful.”

“I will. But that means I can’t talk when he’s around.”

You bury your head, watching the hours that you get with Yoongi dwindle away. Knowing Jungkook, he’s gonna immerse himself in whatever keeps him distracted. So he will most likely be at the studio just as much. “At least you were there today,” you whisper. 

“Mm.”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect that.” 

There’s a breath on the line, and you can tell he’s hesitant just by the way he moves his phone. So when he finally speaks, your jaw goes slack.

“I was there first, doll.” 

He what?

“Wait… You were?” 

He was at your door first? He has to know how that looked, right? Your brother clearly saw him if he was the one to shout, and yet there was no mention of it when the two of you spoke. 

Maybe that’s part of why Yoongi decided what he did. A decision to help you came with consequences he knew were coming. But he did it anyway. 

Your breath is suddenly short. And your head is starting to spin with information overload.

“The plan was to only check for a sec, but he had the same idea. Showed up right behind me.” 

“So… You both heard—”

“Nothing until the yelling.” 

They were there the whole time. Both of them. Yoongi first? Your brother joining him? 

Nope. This is too much. All of this is way too much for one night and your head is bursting at the seams. 

Just another reason why this separation could be a good thing. Other than the fact that Jungkook seems weird and you can’t see Yoongi at all and him and your brother really are more than friends and you wedged yourself right in between everybody—

Information. Realizations. Guilt. You’re spiraling. 

Run.

“I’m, umm. I’m gonna get off now.” 

“You okay?”

Say yes. Say anything but “No. I’m… I don’t know, I really don’t know—This is a lot and—”

“Wait—” 

“I get it and I’ll stay away for as long as you want—”

“Babe, talk to—”

“Bye, Yoongi.”

And you immediately hang up before your dam floods.

He doesn’t need to hear your grief over the past, your regrets of the present, your fear of the future. He doesn’t need to know how pained you really feel dealing with everything at once. How harsh his departure is because this is when you need him most. 

Yoongi: Missed Call

All he needs to know is that you’ll do this for him. Because he would do the same for you. 

And he’s done enough for everyone other than himself. 

But goddamn if this doesn’t hurt like nothing else you’ve experienced before. 

And you’ve been through hell.

Yoongi: Missed Call (2)

Why is he calling? Won’t this just make it harder?

Why does he keep trying if you need to stay away?

Yoongi: Incoming Call

With a heart so busted you don’t know where all the pieces are, you finally reach up to acknowledge his effort. 

And his greeting sends a pang through your chest.

“Knew you’d answer on the first try.” 

Sniffling, you say his name so, so softly.  

“You didn’t let me say bye.”

When you don’t respond, he trudges on.

“So now, you get to hear the longest good night ever.”

Huh? 

“And no hanging up this time.”

What the heck does he… mean… 

As soon as you hear the light strums of a guitar, your heart shows signs of life. And you let everything out while he gathers the scattered shards with every chord. Every note. 

Every second he doesn’t say goodbye.

A river flows into your pillow until it runs dry, and the Moon outside your blinds casts a silver blanket over your defeated shoulders.

And it’s only when you and your phone are dead to the world that the Sun steps in to peel it off with calm palms.

For the first time in a long time, you plan a sleepover at Taehyung’s. 

And after getting a rundown of what happened, he completely agrees that you both need it.

It’s been a minute since you slept over there, and rolling onto his driveway makes you remember the first time it happened. 

Your brother was outright flabbergasted you even asked. 

But after some arguments from you and very clear energy from Tae, your brother waved you off and just demanded no funny shit better happen. 

And you’ve spent so many nights over there since then that Taehyung’s one of the people he calls if he’s looking for you. 

Being reminded of something else interesting, you think back to the first time you went to Yoongi’s, spending enough time there that he ended up on the list of people to call about your whereabouts. 

As hot as he was picking up with a cheeky arm around you, it was surprising he was on that list in the first place. 

Well, maybe not. They’re best friends. But why would he—

“You just gonna waste gas in my driveway or what?” 

Snapping your head up, you see Taehyung looking bored, hands on his hips and wearing the most comfortable clothes you’ve ever seen. 

Your glare in return is empty when you finally get out, circling around to grab your stuff and take-out from the passenger seat. 

“You’re lucky I like you,” you joke as he goes to grab the food. Locking your car, you follow his grumbles into the house with a laugh, feeling a little okay already.

“How’s Jimin?”

“Still complicated, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss.”

You sigh before you poke your noodles, knowing you have quite the catch-up to get through. If only your attempt at procrastination worked.

“Eat,” Taehyung orders before taking a hearty slurp of his meal. “I don’t care if you’re sad, this wasn’t cheap.” 

“Excuse you.” He’s lucky you resist the urge to fling saucy food all over his shorts. “Also, I paid for it, the hell?” 

When your friend blows air through his nose, you scoff before silently doing as he says, pouting at the beginning credits onscreen.

“How long has it been?”

Ah. That’s a good start. 

As you peer down at your food, emotion and appetite abandon your palate,

“A month.”

“...Damn.” 

Taehyung already knows all about what happened. But even if he didn’t, you think he would’ve caught on to your increasingly depressing song choices. And the way you barely watched Yoongi during the last intramural game. 

“How’s the new job, though? Good distraction?” 

That you can talk about for hours. “Thank fuck it is.” 

“That’s good, at least.”

As your meal progresses, you continue to catch him up on everything, including the way night calls are the only thing keeping your hopes afloat. 

Because Yoongi was right. Ever since the party, weekdays have been radio silent, and you soon got accustomed to looking forward to his late texts saying he’s home.

And you’ve been okay with that. Landing the job and getting swamped with training has kept you busy, and your friends have been a wonderful salve for persisting wounds.

It just stings when you know the studio is close by. Because even though Yoongi extended invitations before, you avoid that area like the plague.

“But enough about me,” you huff. “Still complicated with him, huh.” 

If Taehyung knows you’re too sad to keep talking, he doesn’t show it. His response simply comes after a few chews. “Yeah. But”—he swallows—“Not in a way I’m mad about.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Taehyung settles back into the sofa right as a ball of fluff hops on, and you watch the movie roll by while he gently orders him to get down. “He’s not as flaky. We just haven’t really labeled anything yet.” 

That’s surprising to hear. Tae doesn’t strike you as the labeling type at all, so your question is genuine, “Do you need one?” 

A huff is what you get in return, and you can hear the smile in his tone. “He seems to want one more than me. Which is why I don’t get the hesitation.” 

“Mm.” 

That makes more sense. Knowing what you know about Jimin, you aren’t shocked he would be conflicted about something he really wants. 

Why he’s skirting around the point is the question. It’s clear to you that they would be so cute together. And sickly annoying in public. 

“Maybe that’s a good sign,” you blurt, roping your friend’s gaze and attention. Spotlight on you instead of the characters bustling about his television, you smile. “It’s like he’s scared because he cares about your feelings.” 

Not unlike what’s happening between another pair of friends you know.

Taehyung blinks, and you’ve always liked the way curiosity widens his eyes. 

But he’s so quiet that you shift. “What?” 

He keeps staring before biting an incoming smile. Before you can question him again, something brightens his expression. “You’ve changed, you know that?” 

Huh. “Me? How?” 

Your friend just grins before resting his head on the top of his cushion. “I’ve always known you were amazing. But now you look like you know that, too.” 

All thoughts fizzle out before your jaw dips. When you try to present arguments, none materialize, and Taehyung laughs at the way you physically buffer. 

“Not even denying it. I like this.” 

“Shut up,” you finally pout, embarrassed and shy when he laughs again. 

The rest of the film continues with nothing else but your commentary, and Taehyung clicks out of the queue screen before another one can start. 

“Break? Or what do you feel like?” 

You feel Yeontan’s fluff at your feet. “We can keep going.” 

“Mmk.” 

Both of you contemplate which one to pick when you feel your phone vibrate a ton. And when you see the notification, your heart leaps before crashing back down to the ground.

Yoongi [5:02pm]: Just got booked for another week

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Can’t talk now but

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Letting you know

Right.

You slowly let your hand drop with a sigh, and you can feel Taehyung’s pitied stare without moving.

“I know,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t be upset.” 

“You can definitely be upset.” 

You lift weary eyes to see that your assumption was very wrong. There’s no pity evident at all. 

Only warmth. And understanding. 

“Cus knowing him? He’s probably more frustrated than you are.” 

There’s a pinch in your chest, a sharp one that cuts your breath for a small second in time. 

Him? Being more upset than you?

You only thought about that possibility once, but you quickly dismissed it. There’s no way. 

But hearing Tae say it from a guy’s perspective—and someone that knows how Yoongi can be—gives you pause. 

It just didn’t make sense before because he sounds fine when you call, and he doesn’t really talk much about his own shit unless you ask. Which is strange considering he was fine doing so after your huge breakthrough at his place. Granted, it was mostly about good things.

Does he only hold back when it’s about stuff that stresses him out? That’s not ideal. You’ve told him before to tell you what’s bothering him, so if he’s still hesitant to let you in…

Taehyung’s honeyed voice brings you into the present, 

“What are you gonna say?” 

Blinking, you push your lips together in thought before looking at your phone again. 

If Yoongi really is more upset than you are, then you should tell him something that you would wanna hear from him. Even if you aren’t feeling so hot. 

You [5:07pm]: how’s ur back feel from carrying everyone so hard🥴 

You [5:07pm]: jk its ok<3 you’re getting recognized and it’s about time 

When you send those, something strange happens to your shoulders. 

They’re lighter. 

How is that possible? You’re still sad. 

But your mind seems to clear some junk out, instead feeling a little okay about the whole thing. 

Hopefully Yoongi receives them well. If he doesn’t, you’ll figure something else out. 

Yoongi [5:09pm]: Lmaoo I’m saying. They better run me my check and cover my hospital bills.

You laugh with teary eyes, soul feeling like it’ll live despite plans being pushed back again. 

The lingering sadness remains, but it’s dwindled for now. An afterthought to the slight happiness you feel from lifting him up instead of dragging him down.

Another message slides into the thread before you click your phone shut, so when Tae gets more food, you catch what it says. 

Yoongi [5:11pm]: Fuck I miss you

And your heart beats extra loud, mouth slightly curved and wobbly because you agree but it’s okay, okay, okay. You can both do this. 

You [5:12pm]: i miss you too.. but focus now and tell me all about it later

Of course you want to cry. Of course you want to curl up into a ball and sob. 

Yoongi [5:15pm]: Thanks doll

But just like there’s strength in being strong, there’s just as much strength in being gentle. 

Because as upset as you feel, it’s better if you don’t show it. While you aren’t completely resolute, you push forward in silence. Even if you can’t see the finish line.

The lingering feeling of anxiousness remains; the what-if’s batter your mind from the inside. But you choose to stay optimistic for him, and even you have to admit that’s admirable.

But the yearning still packs a fucking punch.

Your shoulders must be slumping to hell because you feel a warm presence settle against you, slinging an arm around and holding you close. 

The only sound you make is a quick sniffle, but you don’t move as Taehyung reads the thread on your phone. 

“You see what I see, right,” is all he whispers. 

And when you slightly shrug, he leans his head against yours. 

“You will.” 

Nodding, you feel more tears follow the paths of their predecessors, and you don’t move to wipe them away. “You’re a good person, Tae.” 

His chuckle sounds like a hearth, and you welcome Yeontan’s sniffs on your legs.

“Jimin’s lucky you’re even giving him a chance.” 

“Ah.” After squeezing your bicep, your friend reaches down to pick up his baby. “He’s lucky I gave him more than one.” 

“Oh? The luckiest then.” 

“You can do this,” he murmurs. “He’ll be ready before you know it.” 

With heavy eyes, you glance down at your still unfinished food. 

“Maybe you’re right.” 

One week turns into three. 

Then two more pass.

And Taehyung might be less correct than you thought. 

“Fuck,” you groan, clutching under your stomach. “Sorry, I’m a mess.”

“It’s okay.”

“At least you don’t have to see me this gross.”

“So?”

“You better stop.” Another eruption of pain shoots through your lower body, and you exhale into your pillow. “This is only making it worse.”

“You got a heating pad?”

A what? How does he know about— 

Oh. Right. 

…You probably shouldn’t tread waters you don’t know the depths of. 

“Yeah. But it’s too far and I’m lazy.”

He laughs in pity but doesn’t show any in his words,

“Go get it, doll.”

Because being reminded of his last relationship also makes you wonder why it ended. And wonder if that also has anything to do with his decision. 

Now hurt in multiple ways, you childishly retort, “You get it.”

“I would if I was there. But I’m not, so you’re gonna.”

“Fine.” You huff into your pillowcase, knowing you’re gonna get up because his perfect mix of support and command is annoyingly attractive. “How much longer?”

Yoongi’s too quiet for your tastes. 

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.” 

Eyes closed, you’re silent for eons. 

“Okay.”

To your confusion, you get a food delivery at your office the next day. 

Inspecting the contents of the bag, you’re cautious until you notice a takeout box of mandu under some sweets and a few all too familiar fruits.

And at the note inside, you promptly proceed to the least used bathroom to compose yourself.

Soon.

Soon and Almost are somewhat similar.

Both can give people a bit of hope. 

But they can also be the most dangerous words to play with.

Because soon is hilariously arbitrary, and you almost believed it meant something good. 

“Going to Yoongi’s.”

“K.”

“You wanna go? He’s having a few people over.”

You bite down so hard your jaw hurts. “Nah, I already have plans tonight.”

“K. Have fun!”

When the door closes, you keep your eyes on the television.

Arms falling at your side because you know you aren’t going anywhere. 

On a random Tuesday, you finally get a package you’ve been waiting on for what seems like months, and you rush to your room to check if it’s exactly what you wanted.

When it looks so beautiful, and feels smooth to the touch, you clutch the material in sorrow.

It’s perfect.

And completely useless for the time being.

Calls have been the one thing getting you by.

But over time, even those have virtually stopped.

It can’t be helped. He’s working far too late into the night for you to stay awake, and is passed out by the time you need to wake up. 

Spending time with friends helps distract from the drift, especially when one of them keeps snapping you into the present, but they’re getting busy, too. 

However. Despite all the obstacles, you keep waiting. A season has passed, yet you stay grounded. 

Hoping, wishing, choosing to believe that Yoongi’s not gonna do the same.

You accidentally spill your drink.

And you sob. 

One chilly night, you take more of Taehyung’s advice, going to Jimin’s determined to have a good time. 

But despite the manufactured confidence you had while getting dressed up and the way you were totally fine walking in and conversing with people and the admittedly perfect vibes of the party…

There’s a hole in your chest that won’t decrease in size. 

No matter what you feed it—food, drinks, the compliments of others—it refuses to budge, and this emptiness holds weight. Heavy. Melancholic.

Painful.

As you suddenly find yourself on Jimin’s windy balcony, one with a slightly different view than the one you’ll remain on forever, dull eyes lower to your solo. 

If you forget this one on the railing, too…

Will he finally show up to hand it back? 

A sharp ache spreads as the hole expands, new tears too powerful to ignore. You know your vision swims, but you don’t move to stay afloat at all. 

Three months. 

Ninety days.

Eight million seconds. 

It only took sixty for you to miss him. And it only took sixty-one for you to feel something else. 

How many more will you end up counting? How long until you get to count down instead of up? 

You keep asking yourself that. When you know for damn sure that you don’t want to know the answer. 

A breeze wraps around your limbs as you sip, the chill cutting through your dress and making you teeter in your heels. 

Because it seems like Yoongi doesn’t know, either. 

To the point where it’s starting to scare you. 

Has he been perfect otherwise? Sickeningly. 

But something in you keeps wondering why the wait keeps extending, anxious that he could be flat out stalling. 

Prematurely saddened by the possibility that he’s reconsidering entirely.

It makes sense. At least, more sense than him actually wanting something with you. Maybe this time apart has given him the clarity to realize how rose-tinted this whole situation has been. How unrealistic and laughable.

But that night in his kitchen… 

It’s getting harder and harder to stay positive.

On the verge of defeat, you hold out your phone, clicking around until your finger hovers over a certain Call button.

You can’t.

He’s working. Someone could see your name, if he has it saved as normal as you have his.

Your finger moves a bit closer.

What the fuck are you doing? Stop. Don’t screw up everything you’ve had to endure with one impulsive decision.

But your mind is fucking bad tonight and you have no clue why.

When the screen lights up with the call screen anyway, ice water rushes through because you totally didn’t mean to call and you need to end it now. 

Hold on, it’s an incoming call?

Oh fuck, it’s an incoming call.

Your throat sears as your eyes shut tight. 

How the fuck did he know? How the fuck does he always know? 

Tears burning, you try your hardest to calm the hell down before you answer, wondering why he dubs you his good luck charm when he puts guardian angels to shame.

You can’t even say hello.

“Hey.”

Fuck. Get it together. Gentle, silent, strong. 

“Hello?”

But you can’t. Not this time. Just hearing his voice for the first time in weeks has you crumbling, and that damn hole in your chest is unquenchable. 

As soon as your greeting is nothing but a weak sniffle, his change in tone seizes your soul and squeezes.

Because it plummets.

“Where are you.”

There’s quick shuffling and a door opening.

“What’s wrong.” 

Damn it there’s keys jangling and you can’t help but sob even harder knowing exactly what he’s doing. 

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. He doesn’t have to go home just because you’re what, sad? Pathetic.

You feel way too many things for this man and it fucking sucks that eight million seconds have gone by after you finally acknowledged them.

However many you get with him now, whenever that may be, you’re not taking a single one for granted. 

“Babe, tell me. Now.” 

“Jimin’s. Outside,” you choke out, sniffling and wiping both cheeks. “But nothing happened, Yoongi, I just—It just—” 

“Gimme twenty. Can you do that?” 

Lowering your head and expectations, you huff in sad amusement. 

Of course you can. Twenty minutes is nothing to you now. You can wait until he’s free. “Guess so.” 

“K. Go back inside and grab a bag.” 

Huh? Knitted brows get aimed at your cup as you question him.

“Chips, doll. Jimin has some in the pantry.” 

That doesn’t answer anything, so you remain thoroughly confused. “I’ll be okay,” you respond after a moment, simply assuming he wants you to replenish sodium. “I’m not hungry.”  

“I am.”

You freeze.

So does time.

And the next three seconds are enough.

“But you better bring the good shit or I’m not letting you in the car.”

After camping in the only unoccupied bathroom, you finally get a text that he’s somewhere around the corner. 

And your chest has never felt lighter.

Texting Tae, you let him know that you’re leaving and that you don’t apologize to Jimin for raiding his kitchen. When he responds, that’s when you slip out, your departure a mess of crinkling and racing heartbeats. 

If anyone sees you walking out with chips, you pay them no mind. Because you only care what one person thinks.

And seven minutes later, when you see him doubling over at the bazillion noisy bags in your arms, you laugh along at the absurdity of it all.

It’s almost enough to distract you from what he’s wearing. 

But to your credit, you don’t exactly see the damn rips in his jeans until he opens a back door for you to throw your haul in.

As if the black top wasn’t already disrespectful enough. His hair has even gotten longer, and you really, really like the new length.

“Fucking hustler.”

No second is wasted as you grab his shirt, positively melting at the way he doesn’t resist or shy away at all. 

In fact, he does the exact opposite, crushing you against his warm car so fast he has to brace himself. You welcome the way air leaves your lungs, because you’re giving it all to him with each pass of his lips over yours. 

Both of you know you’re outside, in public, somewhere you can be seen. But, mirroring the last time you kissed under a starry sky, neither of you act like you give a shit.

Just like that, everything that has haunted you fades. The worries, the fears, the doubts. It doesn’t matter how many days have passed, because it feels like he never left. 

And you suddenly know Yoongi is summer.

Endless. 

“Get in,” he rasps through a smirk. “Thief.” 

With a grin spread so wide your cheeks hurt, you respond right as your foreheads meet,

“Anything for you.”

With nothing but the road ahead and him beside you, everything is right with the world.

“You still have to gimme chips.” 

Maybe not quite everything.

Smile ruining your attempted pout, you reach behind your seat to pick a random bag, settling on the easiest one to grab. “You really made me get these just for you, huh? Are you eating?”

“Yes, my love. And I never said that.”

Well. That first sentence will never, ever, ever be unpacked.

As you shakily open the bag, you hope his music hides your shiver, “Such a smartass.”

“You’re the smartass.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t smart, too,” you laugh, tugging down your dress because he has his car pretty cold tonight. “I know you are.” 

When Yoongi reaches to grab some crisps, his blatant stare on your thighs makes you squirm. “Why?” 

“I just… You read.” 

To your chagrin, he laughs in surprise, forcing you to look out the window. 

Which makes you miss the way he turns down the fans. “I’m smart cus I read? How do you even know?”

“You have books under your coffee table,” you answer without doubt as he digs for more chips. “And you don’t have decor just to have it, so…”

He cocks a brow before focusing on the road, licking his fingers and giving you grief. “I moved those, by the way.”

“Em”—you cough—“Embarrassed?”

“Proactive.”

“Huh? For what?”

He can barely contain his spreading curve. “The next time you decide to fuck up my place.” 

Your heartbeat skips as you gawk, and the current song is overshadowed by your playful shouts and tickle attempts. “Oh, bullshit!”

“You soaked—aish—my whole apartment!”

“That was you!”

“No?”

“Yes? I was nice and only got your head wet!”

Yoongi glances at you then, head tilted up in cockiness and wide smirk slicing through your every thought.

And you glitch when you realize why.

Settling back into your seat with arms guarding your shyness, you sniff upward. “Ugh. Whatever… I’m right.” 

He chuckles a bit before making a turn, and the scenery starts getting familiar.

Way too familiar.

Wait, he’s taking you back to your house?

No no no. Why is he taking you there? 

You got into his car fully prepared to go back to his place, consequences and shit be damned. Everything else be damned. One night is all you want right now, and there’s no way you aren’t going without a fight.

All sense of the current mood dissipates when you grip his forearm. “Not there.” 

He flicks his gaze, rolling to a stop at an intersection that’s frighteningly close. And his expression falls when he shifts into park with a sigh. “Babe… We can’t.” 

“I don’t care.”

“I was only gonna bring you back.”

“Baby, please.”

“He’s home—”

“Do you still miss me?” 

He freezes. 

Which gives you a chance. 

Eyes glossy, you use all the seconds you have to say everything you’ve kept to yourself.

Almost everything.

“Because I get it if you don’t. I do. But I really… I really fucking miss you. And not just because of, whatever. But I consider you a friend and fun as hell to be around, and I haven’t”—you inhale, hating how it shakes—“I haven’t been this happy in weeks. And we aren’t even doing anything.” 

Yoongi is completely silent. But that’s okay because you aren’t done. 

“I know you said I wouldn’t see you. But after getting to know you? The real you? …That sucks.” You can’t look at him when his hand slips from the wheel. “I’m not gonna make you change anything, just. Telling you what’s on my mind. Like you said. I’m gonna do that a lot more now.”

He doesn’t say a word as a tear cuts one of your cheeks, and you’re brave enough to look his way again. “But it’s been three months, Yoongi,” you whisper. “Is that still not enough for you?”

Time ticks as you hold your breath, oxygen depleting and lungs nearing collapse as you watch his eyes close. 

You laid everything out on the table. Your words, your thoughts, your pain.

Whatever he decides, though? You’ll respect it. You said what you wanted to say and you won’t take any of it back. If he wants to prolong this, you won’t stop him. If he doesn’t want this anymore… the home in your heart will need repairs, but you’ll live. Somewhat. You don’t know how but somehow. People are like seasons. You’re used to it.

Yoongi’s still way too quiet. 

So, giving up and getting the point, you reach up to open your door.

“Stop.” 

You do. 

And the way he flexes his jaw shoots magma through your veins before he wrenches the car into drive. 

The universe spins as you burst into Yoongi’s apartment, running, bumping, slamming into furniture until you get thrown against his bedroom door. 

Welcoming the pain, you devour his scorching lips, fingers digging into his hair with a desperation that frightens you. All you feel is him him him, barely recalling the manic drive over and the way he all but busted into his own place. 

If there were any lingering doubts to your question, they’re left out in the chill, not allowed to witness the way he hitches your leg up before pinning you firm with his pelvis.

“Shouldn’t be fucking doing this—” 

You moan at the way his jeans feel on your skin, shivers running rampant when you more than feel his hardness poke through. “Please,” you pant, sticking to your word and ready to tell him what you want. 

“Please what.” 

Everything you want. 

Tugging his head back, your admissions rub right against his mouth, “Choke me. Use me. I don’t care, do it all.”

“Huh?”

A breath whooshes out when he yanks you forward with a growl, and you cannot seem to stop, “Don’t be nice. Spit in my mouth. Make me beg like a fucking slut, I need it.”

All the other times, you’ve seen Yoongi break in different ways. 

But this is the first time you’ve felt him legitimately snap. 

“The fuck.”

Lightning strikes the dark as he slams you backward, teeth clinking against yours when he smothers you with saliva and lust. When he shoves his door open, you stumble back, more unholy plans in mind than he imagines. 

You don’t know what’s coming over you. 

Even as you force him sideways to shove into his rolling chair, the piercing look he gives is no match for your inner storm.

“Babe—”

Impatient, you drop to your knees, the pain nothing to you as your fingers twitch over his zipper. As you tug his pants down with force, Yoongi’s outright shock is another first for you.

“Are you su—”

“Let me do this,” you plead upward, and you feel highly motivated when he doesn’t do a thing except let out a low, gritty hum. 

Grabbing at his cock, you already moan at the way it feels in your palm…

Softly, oh so softly, a large hand closes over yours, and you hear your name in a whisper, haze temporarily receding. 

What’s wrong? Does he want you to stop?

When you ask without a word, Yoongi leans forward to capture your lips, and this gives you a warm sort of deja vu. “You drank tonight, yeah?” 

“Yeah…?” Oh. He totally tasted alcohol. And your frantic behavior. He thinks—Oh. 

Understanding what he’s getting at, you reach up and caress his cheek. “I’m not drunk, baby,” you chuckle. “I just missed you.” 

Again, he looks at your eyes, one after the other. When you say it once more for good measure, he kisses you in acceptance. 

“So are you gonna fuck my throat or nah?”

He falls back with a groan, raking his hair and legs spread wide. “What are you doing to me.”

“This.”

Without prompt, you dive head first, leaning forward to take his tip and swirl your tongue all around. Commanding his every drop of attention, you don’t let up as you tug your dress downward, breasts spilling out before you stand just enough to claim his lips. 

He takes full advantage with a devilish curve, smacking your tits before ordering, “Get the fuck back down there.”

And you obey with a proud smirk of your own, hoping he’s liking this new side of you, too. 

Back between his knees, you worship his length in earnest, swallowing him again and again and lathering him in saliva so your hands slide easily on him, too. When you feel his veins rub both your palms, you hear a symphony of lustful baritones.

“Holy fuck.” 

You quickly discover you can’t get enough. Lapping, sucking, sheathing your head on his cock so far your brain smushes upward. He feels so familiar at this point that you realize you missed him even here, knocking the back of your throat and burdening your tongue with heavenly, sinful weight. 

And you feel more familiar palms grip your head, eyes opening to see him staring down with reverence and something you can’t quite decipher. 

“So fucking filthy...” 

You chuckle, the rumble making him hiss and throw his head back against his chair. 

“Don’t do that.” 

You gladly disobey, laughing even harder around him before releasing with an expert pop to suck on his balls. 

“Fuck!”

There’s a slight squeak before he grips you again, and you can tell he’s slipping by the way his moans devolve into breathy, short hisses. 

Breaking, he pushes your head into his sack before slapping your cheek with his cock, and you hum as it slips back inside your grin. 

Yes yes yes. You want him to enjoy this just as much as you do, steal this time together and run with it, need him to hang on the brink of mania where you currently reside. Because even though he’s saying things, you can’t hear them over the wholly impure sounds slopping out of your esophagus. 

“Fucking hell, baby,” he praises, thrusting up slow as you keep him slathered. “Missed that fuckin’ mouth.”

You finally come up for air, gulping in air and letting him see you in all your panting glory. When you lock eyes, his lidded gaze is loaded, aimed only at your taunting stare.

Drool coats you in globs. Your chest, the floor, hanging from your lips as you stroke him with wet fingers before swallowing another time. 

And you think you can do this until your jaw falls off.

But suddenly you’re hoisted upward before being thrown onto soft sheets, legs roughly shifted to one side as you paint the dark with your hoarse giggles. Before you know it, his lips attack your chest, and he’s setting butterflies wild as you arch in record time. 

“Take this off,” he growls, tugging at your dress with sweaty fingers that you want lodged in multiple places. “No more hiding.” 

You mewl, undressing as fast as you’re able, tearing the garment off and flinging it away. But your heels are still on, and whether he’s just as deft at removing those, too, you’ll need to hit pause. “What about my—”

“Don’t,” he grits with brows pinched, and his next vow is absolute, pure sin,

“I’m fucking you with them on.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Your whine is high as you throw your head back, the next groan guttural as you feel a hand smack the side of your ass with force. Your jaw comes loose, soreness shooting through its curve as your legs are erotically parted to give Yoongi a view of everything. 

You know your panties are soaked. 

You know he’s gonna wreck your shit. 

But seeing him eye the whole mess on display before lifting his hungry gaze your way? You’re damn sure you aren’t gonna survive the night. 

Perfect. 

“Please fuck me, baby,” you let out with a tone so soft that you think he doesn’t hear you. 

He does. “I’m gonna do a lot more than that, doll.” 

You tilt your head, confused and wondering what he means. 

But he ignores your wordless question, sliding fingers along your ankle before holding your leg to kiss that same spot. 

The action alone is enough to rewire your brain, but it’s the way he looks so confident, so unbothered, so determined that has your insides churning with want. 

He plants lips there again before shifting his hand down to your calf, yanking your leg back wide and pulling a tiny help out of your throat. When he shifts to grip your other leg, he growls under his breath, 

“So fucking perfect.” 

“No, you,” you counter with a pout, and flinch what the fuck his slap to your cunt felt good. “Hey!”

“None of that,” Yoongi orders with finality. “Not after all that shit you said at the door.” 

“I dunno what happened there,” you admit, inevitably shy under his commanding presence. Your cheeks sizzle before your teeth grip your lip, temporarily brought back to normalcy at his confession,

“Almost made me come.” 

“Be for real.” 

“Damn serious.” 

The cheshire cat would be jealous of your grin. “Then I should keep going?”

“Uh huh.” He cups your whole cunt, and the possessive nature it exudes pushes a whine against your teeth. “Tell me.” 

“Fuck me like you missed me.” 

A groan rips through his room before he swoops down, lips bruising yours on the landing before he shoves his mouth against your neck. 

Tingles erupt over your skin as he laps at your throat, so hard that your entire upper body slides across his rumpled sheets. When you feel his cock rub across your thong and his jeans grazing your skin, his name flies out of your chest. Moans, sighs, everything in between. 

“Careful,” he warns low before another toe-curling lick. “You won’t leave if I did that.”

“I don’t want to,” you grit in return, reaching to sink claws in his hair and tug. “Wanna stay.”

Strong arms wrap around you before you feel him spread liquid fire up your shoulder, and he reaches to nip at your ear before deft fingers flick a nipple. 

His voice rasps against your cheek, but the words sound reluctant to even leave. “You shouldn’t even be here, babe.”

Fuck. You know that’s true but your heart is rattling like a monster starved. 

“Just tonight,” you plead your case. Because you don’t want to be shooed away before it’s over, but if this is all you get, he needs to do something now. “But if you really don’t want this then please kick me out before—”

“Fuck that.” After greedily tweaking your other nipple, he rolls his body against yours, making you fiend for the weighty cock wedged against you with only thin material between. “Fuck all of that.” 

He rushes upward before nudging your leg over with a strong hand, and you fixate on the way his chains hit his chest. Just like always. “Don’t move.”

You don’t even get to breathe twice as he drops from sight, and you yelp to his roof as soon as you feel teeth nick your inner thigh. At your flinch, you feel him grip your leg with force, ordering you even harsher,

“I said. Don’t move.” 

“But—Yoongi!” 

You don’t notice him yank your underwear sideways before flattening a hot tongue against your folds, sucking so good you have to back away from the stimulation. Immediately, both your legs are seized before he tugs you back to him. 

“Uh uh.”

And he keeps your legs apart before diving deep, and you’ve never devolved into a quivering mess so fast in your goddamn life. The way he licks, sucks, kisses just where you need—everything sends thunder through your chest, lightning across your cunt, rain into your eyes. 

You can do nothing but squirm, squeals and whines and high moans leaving arrowheads in his ceiling. 

Holy fuck, did you sound this loud when you worshipped him? Even now, spread wide and willing to give Yoongi the world, you find a moment to be embarrassed in the best way.

If the neighbors hear, you don’t care. They’re gonna know how well he’s feasting on you, how gorgeously corrupt you feel. How you’re his and his alone and ready to scream it to the rooftops. 

When you feel a finger alongside his tongue, the sound you make borders on inhuman. You think it’s his name, but even you aren’t quite sure. 

All you know is that you’re close. Your thighs are burning and your fingers swipe at his locks but he refuses to let you go. “Yoongi—I’m—”

Suddenly.

He stops. 

And every nice thing you have to say to him falls to the wayside. “No no no! Please, fuck—”

The light tap to your cunt makes you quiver, and your chest heaves when he chuckles without pity,

“What’d you say?” 

“Plea—Baby!” 

“Huh?” 

Every fucking time you speak, he taps again. And every time he gets you close, he edges with aggravating control. Again. And again. 

And again.

You exist between reality and fiction, somehow seeing yourself unwinding, winding, spiraling out of control. Words start to form abstract blobs of syllables, your mouth hanging open as he peppers lazy, unbothered kisses on your thighs.  

In your foggy vision, you think you see him stand. And you’re pretty sure he grabs his cock before he’s rubbing his thick head between your folds oh fuck—

“This is what you wanted, huh.” 

Your breath hitches with a whine as you nod.

“You gonna be a good little slut?” 

Oh, you’re gonna be whatever he fucking wants. So you nod again, not without a smile lopsided. 

“Then fucking beg.” 

He smacks his cockhead against your cunt, springing your back in an arch and tugging strings of incoherent speech from your depths. You make hard lines of his sheets as you grip them in both palms, and you don’t wanna know what you’re saying because the way Yoongi’s staring with a smirk has you blacking the fuck out. 

To the point where you’re nothing but a quivering, shaking, restless mess on his bed.

You somehow closed your eyes at some point, because they fly open when you feel his lips on yours, and you tug at his stupidly attractive shirt that he didn’t bother to pull off. “Please,” you whisper, brain floating oceans away. “I need you.”

“Need you, too.” 

He breaks away to grab a condom, and this is when you realize how intertwined you feel because even this distance is too much to bear. You’re spilling nonsense and breathing harsh and you attribute that to the sole fact that you crave release. It’s aching. Consuming. 

Yoongi’s already naked and prepped by the time he positions himself between your sore legs, and you give in without resistance again when he descends on your lips. 

When you whisper his name, he kisses it away, and you briefly wonder why his hands shake running up your sides. 

Finally, finally, finally, he gives exactly what you want, the initial connection stretching you sore because it’s been way too long. And you feel emotional when you don’t even doubt it’s been too long for him, too. 

Because his eyes speak volumes. 

They hold onto your every move, watch your every reaction, hesitate when you blow out air accommodating his size. 

But you lock yours with him when you relax, weakly grasping his jewelry before sliding fingers up his shoulders. When you nod, he pushes in further, both of you sighing in tandem. 

And as soon as you whisper you’re ready, all niceties fly out the window. 

You’re thrusted up his bed with a determined stroke before he sets a pace, and your head kicks back as soon as a hand captures your neck. 

“Look at me,” he commands, and he gives you a light pat on the cheek before squeezing your jaw. “Open up.”

When you do, spit flings from his mouth into yours, and you already sprint to the edge feeling the weight of your heels and the strength of his body. “Fuck!”

You get pat again—rougher this time—before Yoongi goes to choke you a second time. “What do you say?”

“Me?” you pant, tearing the first thought from your throat when he grits it again. “Thank—” 

Fuck, his dick is hitting every spot you need it to. It takes you a second to repeat your garbled guess in full, knowing it’s something you would’ve said anyway. “Thank you.”

“Now swallow.” 

As soon as he shoves inside, your obedience is your undoing. The skies open to welcome you as your body locks, thighs squeezing his taut sides as he moans through your release. Waves tug you unbelievably far, and you almost lose yourself in the swell before you crash onto shore again.

“Such a whore for me,” Yoongi praises, kicking you back to the very first night and making you melt. When you peel eyelids open, you notice his smile matches yours, and the shared, cherished memory smoothens your gravelly laugh.

“Love when you do that,” you admit, shaking your head at your own strange preferences. “Don’t know why.” 

“Me neither.” He spears you again with a cheeky lip bite. “But it’s so fucking hot.” 

Your grin can’t be contained, and this is where you wanna be. Right here. Nowhere else in the fucking universe. 

“I’m ready,” you pant, and he gives you a brief look of affection—which you shatter with force. “Fuck the shit out of me.” 

Yoongi twitches madly inside your core as he expels a pained, breathy laugh. “Goddamn, this isn’t good for me.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He doesn’t waste a second gathering your calves while you ponder what he says. “Hold these pretty legs up for me. There you go.”

When you find the easiest way to do so, you marvel at how shaky and slippery your thighs are, wondering if the rest of you is faring any better. 

It’s not. 

But you can’t dwell on that now because Yoongi is holding on like he’ll lose you, resuming a delicious pace and smacking your hips into his with the most indecent sounds. 

Your whines soon join in, and his hums of satisfaction fuel your ever going flame. Heaven and earth could move and you would remain here, suspended in time as he fills you perfectly with every fast stroke. 

“Feel so good—”

When he leaves your cunt, you mewl before he grunts, “Fucking—Get up.” 

What is he— 

You’re hoisted upward so quickly that you see starlight, not even registering the clanks and shifts of items before he’s spinning to pin you down on a solid surface. Your heels find purchase on the floor but your knees prove unbelievably weak.

What’s—

Oh fuck, are you on his desk?

Your hands retreat until they find an edge to grab, and you moan outright when you feel his fingers slide up your cunt, shoving your thong farther over one side of your ass. 

“Yoongi—”

You feel full in an instant, jaw going slack as he shoves you backwards on his cock, praises washing down your back as he pushes down any arches you instinctively make. 

“Uh uh. Stay like that.” 

“I wanna—” Your words are cut off with a whine as you feel a sting on your ass. “Fuck!”

“There you go.” 

The rock of the desk is so strong that every bang against the wall booms loud, equipment sliding back and forth and making you briefly worry if anything will fall.

But this is the most turned on you’ve ever, ever felt, and you have no fucking clue why.

You wonder if he feels the same right before his dark laugh consumes you.

“Goddamn.” 

Your hands are grabbed before he shoves you forward, letting more of your body lie on the surface so that he can pin sweaty arms at your back. 

Oh, fuck!

Your moans glide across wood as he doesn’t let up, and you don’t even want to know how much drool will exist on his desk when you’re done. Maybe you’ll never be done. Maybe he really will keep you here forever, and you’ll soak his whole—

“Come here.” 

He gathers your wrists in one large palm before reaching to grip your chest, hauling you up and securing you against his body by the throat. 

And you think your soul just left your earthly vessel. 

Pressing you further into him, he grits in your ear, 

“Never fucking kicking you out.” His tight stroke launches you across space. “Don’t even think about saying that again.” 

When did you— You said— Why don’t you remember—

You go limp when he shoves into you again, but your heels wobble and you focus damn hard on staying upright. 

But Yoongi doesn’t give a shit. “You hear me?” When you let out a breathy confirmation, he still isn’t satisfied. A hand pats your cheek before he asks again, “Say it louder.” 

“Yes!”

“Good.”

He drops all talk, pistoning in from behind while you take it and take it and love it. Mercifully, he lets your sore arms go to pin you down again, gritted words and curses dancing with your high-pitched sighs. 

Fuck, his strokes are so deep that you see into the next universe, and you don’t think your mouth has been shut ever since you made contact with his desk. 

Maybe he was more frustrated than you were. He’s using you as stress relief like you intended, and his roughness is a fantastic surprise. 

It’s just what you need. Which kicks you into a whole other level of want and the beast inside you transforms yet again. 

When Yoongi yanks himself out, you’re quick to spin and shove him backward. As he flops onto the bed, he laughs like sin incarnate when you pounce, his hot hands grabbing at your hips and encouraging your behavior in the nastiest way.

“Let’s go then, pretty bitch.”

“You already fucking know.”

“Show me what I’ve been missing.”

“Don’t fall in love.” 

When you sink onto him, Yoongi’s already groaning. But when you start to swivel at a pace that will render you sore, he begins to lose it. 

“Fuck.”

His head kicks back, eyes shut and brows pinched to hell. After holding your waist, he has to slap his sheets to squeeze even tighter, chest marred with red under pretty silver. 

You make sure every rotation is full, slowly rocking with each circle you make and gritting teeth at how fucking big he is.

Soon, his hisses devolve into groans, and he snaps his head back up to slap your breasts—one after the other before gripping your hips so hard you welcome the pain. 

“Fuck, I missed this pussy,” he confesses with husk, and you whine in response as you lower yourself to kiss him deep. 

“It missed you, too.”

Coming back up, you dig one of your hands in his mattress while bracing on him with the other, and you close your eyes in bliss as you arch your tits toward his hungry lips. 

Just like you want, he chuckles in satisfaction as he suckles, lolling his tongue all around before giving your nipple  a hard suck. His noises remind you of lollipops, and you briefly think of a few fun things you could do with those for next time.

But a hand juts up to seize the back of your neck, forcing you to arch in place as he starts thrusting hard. 

“Yoongi!”

“Uh huh.”  

Before you can talk again, his other hand joins in to choke you just enough, and you find yourself teetering on a precipice. Holy fuck, holy fuck, you’re close again.

“You gonna come?”

A frantic nod.

“Then come.” 

As soon as you hear the words, you do exactly that, windpipe released just as you pulse around him incredibly hard. The waves prove tsunamis, and you dangle from their crests before plummeting and tumbling below. Your moan extends as he thrusts erratically through your quivers, encouraging you and digging rough fingers into your hips. 

“Again.” 

Somehow, that’s enough to make your body obey, and you cry out as you flutter around his trembling cock, hearing him talk you through it but not quite understanding what he’s saying. 

Maybe you also choose not to listen because of what you think you hear, and you don’t want to be haunted if you realize later on what you thought you heard wasn’t true. 

The world rotates up as Yoongi sits up, and you sling arms around him as he leans back on his hands. Your breath hitches at the new angle he’s filling you at, and your eyes swirl when he coolly, confidently commands, 

“Again.” 

You can’t you can’t you can’t but you can. Holy fuck apparently you can, and this time, it consumes you so hard your eyes roll back enough to see the past. Past you, insecure and meek and scared to say what they want. 

Oh, if they could witness you now. 

You shudder impossibly hard around him, coated with his deep chuckles and dashing, ego-ridden grin. It’s all you see before you slump against his chest, heartbeat pounding against yours when you can’t feel any bone in your body.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Two hearts.

One night is enough.

“So fucking perfect.”

“For you,” you wisp out, lost in galaxies. “Only you.” 

He can only kiss the side of your head in response, gently lowering you both onto spent cotton and helping you straighten out your muscle-locked legs. When he asks if you’re okay, you can only nod, and he plants another kiss on your temple before sliding off his protection. 

Both of you take time to calm down, breaths heavy from what felt like a marathon. But a much better marathon than the one you’ve had to endure over the last three months. 

When you lie against his chest, you silently thank him for giving you tonight. It’s the riskiest thing you’ve ever done with him, but you won’t worry about it. Not right now. Not when you feel more at home here than your own house. 

Your brother is right. Something is definitely missing over there. 

It’s when your pants have relaxed into soft breaths that you nudge your head against Yoongi’s chest, eyes shut in peace as he lazily draws circles on your back. 

And the first words he says in minutes inject sparkles into your eyes,

“I need to re-up this damn cat’s food.” 

Oh, shit!

Your outright squeal is surely coming out too loud but you don’t care. Don’t care don’t care don’t care not when Yoongi just gave away so many different things. 

This man leaned right into the whole thing.

“I knew it!” You proclaim in triumph, smacking his thigh while hearing a very elongated ‘shut up’ at your side. “Tried to hide it from me all these months? Somebody’s getting soft.”

“First off.”

“Uh huh.”

God. If only you both could go on one of those late night shopping trips he talked about before. Maybe you could’ve gotten plenty of things. Like some little cat toys, or extra storage cabinets for your clothes. 

Yeah. Stuff like that. 

“I’m her favorite.” 

Your scoff is immediate as you hoist yourself up, leaning on your hand and regretting the burn in your arm. “Only because you gatekeeped her.”

A soft disagreement precedes a more prominent, “Won’t even matter.”

Yoongi looks so at peace when you stare, and your voice calms to match as it floats down, “You took care of her.”

When he only smiles, you decide that this is how you want him to be all the time. Content and outright glowing, fireflies dancing in his eyes. 

Does he feel at home, too? 

“She was gonna be your surprise,” he finally murmurs. “For getting the gig.”

Heart and tear ducts full, you lower yourself to tenderly press lips to his. And, since it seems to work for you, his forehead is what you decide to kiss next. 

Then you pull away.

Wondering why he’s not smiling anymore. 

“Come here.”

You blink, lying back down to snuggle against his side. When his arm wraps around your shoulder, it's only then that you’re aware you still have shoes on. A clean person, you hope Yoongi doesn’t mind them touching his sheets. 

But maybe it’s a tad too late for that concern. 

“How are you gonna get home?”

Oh, right. You use his chest to scratch an itch in your nose before responding, “I’ll call a ride in the morning. He’ll be out cold until noon at the earliest.” 

“K.” 

“Did I keep you from anything?”

A puff flies out his nostrils. “Kinda late for that, huh.” 

“True,” you sigh, berating yourself for thinking a lot of things too late. “Sorry.”  

“But no, we were finishing up when I called.” 

“Okay… Did I scare you?” You lift your eyes then, because you need to know for sure. 

When he levels a look, you curse at his quiet confirmation. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” 

“S’ok.” 

“I just… It hurt tonight.” Emotion washes over your face before you bury it. “Really hurt.” 

After a light squeeze, Yoongi gently rolls you over, resting his head exactly where your hand clutches your chest. When you move your fingers, he kisses that same spot, and your heart stops. “How about now.” 

Feeling the deepest pain you’ve ever felt in your life, you cradle his head with a whisper, 

“Maybe try that one more time.”

And he does, not looking at your tears as he sits up to peer down the bed. 

When he scoots down to the edge, your breath catches as he holds a heel in sure hands, his back beautiful even with the scars. While he works through leather straps, he starts to speak, 

“I always do, babe.” 

Blinking, you ask what he means as he slips your shoe off with ease.

“Miss you.”

As he tenderly holds the other, you gulp in oxygen to quell the sear around your eyes. “I just… Wasn’t sure,” you admit, voice wavering. 

His hair falls forward when he sighs, and his palms feel way too relaxing to just be taking your heels off. Even now, it feels like he’s revering you. And you truly don’t know how you deserve any of this. 

“That’s my fault.” 

Throat small, you’re swift to reassure him. “No, no. I need to just suck it up. I’m sorry.” 

After freeing your other foot, he rubs it without prompt, and you don’t know how to deal with someone giving you this level of care. 

“Just a little bit longer, doll,” he says, and you admire his profile when he turns. “I’m sorry.” 

“You gave me tonight.” 

When he swallows, you reassure him with all the support you can give, 

“A little longer is nothing.” 

A moment passes by before he finally moves, and you catch a hint of a smile right before he faces his disheveled to hell desk again. 

Deciding that conversation has concluded, you crack the atmosphere with a joke, “You liked whatever happened over there, huh.”

Immediately, Yoongi’s shoulders bob with a laugh before he admits, “Fucking you on my desk? I’ve wanted to do that for months.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He leans forward. “There’s a lot of shit I’ve wanted us to do for months.” 

Us.

Thoroughly giddy and full of life again, you egg him on. “Oh? Like what?”

Finally, he looks over his shoulder with a grin, and you scoff in frustration at his answer,

“What’s the fun in telling you?”

“Ass!”

While you’re getting ready to shower, he leans against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“We have a game next week.” 

As you fetch a towel from his cabinet, you clarify, “The championship, right?”

“Mmhmm.” 

“I’ll be there,” you confirm, walking away to slip the thick cloth over its rack. “I can’t believe it’s still going.” 

“Same. But there’ve been a lot of delays, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Your hand feels out the water, satisfied with its temperature. “I meant your win streak but whatever.” 

And you squeal when he rushes forward, shutting the glass with a wobbly thud before he can get to you. When you stick out a childish tongue, you laugh under the spray, curve slowly, curiously, softly fading when he simply keeps staring.

What’s he doing?

You don’t move as he slowly slides the entrance open again, and you don’t dare breathe as he leans inside to kiss your wet lips.

When you tenderly take one of his wrists and pull, he obliges without hesitation, and you take another shower with the man that sets fireworks off in your soul. 

An hour later, filled with food and laughter—and slight disappointment when you couldn’t find your surprise near his door—you occupy his bed with full bellies and fresh minds. 

As he lies on your chest, you think this is better, because it gives you time to think about things. And tell him about others. 

You finally tell him what all happened with Jungkook, to which he listens without a single word. When you can’t seem to shut up about your job, he doesn’t stop you, and you adore the way he cuddles you under faint moonlight cutting through his window. 

“Oh, wait,” you stop, feeling like you’ve talked his head off by now. “What did you call about?”

“Huh? Tonight?” 

“Yeah.” 

“We finally have a confirmed date. For that album,” Yoongi rumbles against the shirt he let you borrow. “I was gonna invite you to the release party.”

Whoa, what the fuck? “Me?”

He chuckles soft, and you wonder if he can guess how shocked you look. “Yes, you. All of y’all.” 

At least it’s everyone. But at the same time, you still hesitate. “That won’t be weird?” 

“Nah. You can bring anyone you want, so. I was assuming you’d bring your friends.” 

“Ah, I see.”

You didn’t mean to sound disappointed. You truly aren’t. But Yoongi pushes up to comfort you anyway, planting kisses along your skin, your neck, and finally your lips. 

“It won’t be the only one,” he promises. “We got time.”

“Duh,” you giggle. “And I’ll be at all of them. Whether you like it or not.” 

Yoongi regards you before laying his weight back on your chest. And you find it strange how familiar his body already feels. How you’re already attuned to every way his legs fit against your own, or how you would know it’s him solely based on how his chest molds with yours. 

You start mindlessly caressing his hair, fingers weaving through a dark sea of strands before smoothing over its surface. 

And you start to hum.

It’s not really any song, just notes you start stringing together at random. You build up before you dip back down, staying in a comfortable middle range and dancing between similar tones. 

You stop from time to time, trying to figure out what would sound best next and changing up the cadence. Always coming back to a central theme because it’s what you deem best.

And you’re so comfortable that you completely forgot he’s lying right under your chin.

“Shit, was I too loud?”

He just shakes his head, arm pressing a bit more into your side. 

“Not at all.” 

So you keep going, humming more familiar tunes and phrases, softly giggling when Yoongi huffs at the way you drum on his head. 

And that’s how the night goes on, with you at peace and him in your embrace.

Never noticing how the shirt you're wearing collects rain.

When dawn breaks, you part with one final, heavenly kiss. 

Yoongi watches until you get in the ride he politely called for you, and you spend the whole drive with eyes filled with light. 

You can do this. Just a little longer, he said.

For him, you can do anything. 

But when you get home, your brother occupies the foyer as soon as you open the front door.

And you feel the world shatter and crash at your feet.

“I think,” he states, “There’s something you wanna tell me.”  

—

—

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tbc. :) 

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a ha ha... what do we think/like! | wanna support with a 🍊?

A/N: i’m so swirly-eyed that i don’t even know what to say here other than i’m sorry for throwing that ending at y’all! busted pt. 2 is gonna be its own huge part at this point so i had no choice but to end it here (originally it was gonna end before they went back to yoongi’s but i love y’all too much dlkfjdsklf)  A/N 2: gonna say this again: enormous thank you to everyone supporting this whole journey, whether that’s liking/commenting/reblogging/messaging, recommending this series to people, telling me how it makes you feel or what it means to you, or even wanting a physical copy of the series like😭 that’s surreal to me and makes me wanna keep working harder.  A/N 3: as far as feedback, i would absolutely love any type y’all wanna give. this chapter took all of my brainpower and the next one is gonna take just as much haahahahdksfks so any encouragement would be wonderful!  ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist ⇥ masterlist 

[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

××《☆》××

You can't deny beauty, so don't do it at all. Some time is spent at the beach with a boy you're trying to quietly reject. Begging, though pitying, looks good on our one-eyed boy.

===

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: boys being boys (ft. grown ass men), swearing, sl?!t shaming, bullying, smoking, angsty-er than normal

Also, another reference, now from the show Normal People and the movie (500) Days of Summer

===

Song: Salvatore by Lana Del Rey

(For some reason, I can't display it. Sorry about the technical difficulties.)

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Chapter seven: Salvatore

===

I walk the unfamiliar streets of the town, only now headed this way. I was instructed by my mother to pick something up from a lady's house this morning, specifically a box of sweets.

It was delivered to the wrong address, and my mother got in contact with the company, which gave her the contact number of the address they gave it to, and the two women made arrangements.

I look up at the plain white door with embedding, knocking on it gently. I hear footsteps from inside, then the door opens with a creak.

"Good morning, ma'am. I was sent by my mother, Julliete Pardine." The woman smiles down at me, the elevation of her house making her taller.

"You must be Y/N. Come on in." She ushers me inside, opening the door wider. I take careful steps on the stairs, eyeing my feet to not fall and embarrass myself. Looking up was something I regret.

In all his glory, after being completely ignored for two weeks, Joseph Descamps stands in front of a drawer and mirror, eye wide open, mouth parted slightly, and looking as pretty as he always did.

I get snapped out of my trance when the woman, now I know as Mrs. Descamps, hands me the box of cookies.

"Now, Y/N, where do you study? I hope I'm not making you late this morning." I turn my focus to her, ignoring the butterflies wanting to escape my stomach through my throat.

"You're not. I study at Voltaire." Mrs. Descamps' eyes widen like her sons, and she smiles a bright smile.

"Oh, what a coincidence. My son goes there, too. Maybe you could walk each other. It's always good for a girl your age to have some company when walking the streets. Maybe you already know each other?" She glances at her son, nodding her head towards me. I look at Joseph, and something reminds me of a promise I made him before.

We're sitting on my bed, writing some notes for Maths. Joseph's voice comes alive.

"Hey, what do you think will happen to us in college?" I look up from my paper, eyeing Joseph steadily.

"What kind of question is that? You're thinking about college already?" I don't mention the fact that he's thinking about us two when talking about what'll happen.

"Well, you know, since schools are mixing boys and girls now, and it's going pretty well, so in college, it might be continued. I just wanna know if we'll still be... friends." I scoff slightly, letting go of my pencil to reach for his free hand.

"Joseph, let me assure you we'll still be friends. I promise." Joseph looks at me, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips. I tilt my head in worry.

"But... what if we don't end up in the same college? And when you're with your new friends, then you see me, you'll act like you never knew who I was?" I scan his face, his beautiful face, biting gently on my bottom lip. I caress his hand with my thumb.

"I would never act like I don't know you." I say in a whisper. He doesn't say anything after that, collecting my words somehow.

"Can you promise that, too?" I smile gently at him, lifting his hand up to my lips, kissing his rough knuckles.

"I promise."

I would've never thought what might happen in college happens so soon.

So when I look at him, all I can think about is his soul, and that even in a matter of weeks, it's filled me whole.

"Yes. We know each other." I look at Mrs. Descamps again, and her face lights up brighter than before.

Her son looks like her. The way both their eyes wrinkle a bit under when they smile, the way their cheeks shows lines, and the way their eyes light up. I barely see that in him anymore. And the last time I did, it was with me.

"Good. He shall walk you to school this morning." She walks to her son now, grabbing his arm to drag him closer to me. I don't look him in the eye, my heart still aching from the afternoon in the alley.

I can sense him tilting his head, brows etched in worry and body leaning towards me. He feels so warm even from far away. I want him closer.

"Anyways, I made you a sandwich for lunch. I know what food's like at school." Mrs. Descamps tells her son. I look at her now petite image, even more small when standing next to her child. Well, if he even is a child anymore.

"Thanks." He replies simply, head down. I try my best not to hold him like I used to. To ask him what's wrong.

"I saw the ophthalmologist. He thinks it's time." I furrow my eyebrows, not sure what type of doctor that is.

"Oh, yeah?" Fuck. Why'd he have to say it like that? Butterflies fill my stomach again. Not here. Not infront of his mom, for fucks sake.

"They've made great strides." She ruffles his hair. Damn, I used to do that. I miss it. "They can match your eye colour exactly now. You can't tell the difference."

"Have you ever seen someone with a glass eye? One eye moves, the other doesn't." Oh, so that's what this is about.

His mother cups his face. "My son is not a pirate. You'll be handsome again." I speak before I think.

"Your son is handsome." They turn their heads to me, and I flush in embarrassment. I finally look at Joseph, and there's a glimmer of hope in his eyes. His cheeks are flushed like mine, and he searches my face.

"Well, I'm glad you think so. But I think he should get it anyway. The mother knows best, like they say." Joseph doesn't even turn his head to his mother's direction. He doesn't even hear her. All he's looking at is me, and I can't find myself to look away.

"Well," I stutter out, looking to Mrs. Descamps. "It was nice to meet you. See you soon, ma'am." She smiles at me, rubbing my shoulder gently.

"Would you like to come to dinner tonight? I'm making a roast." Before I could answer, Joseph does it for me.

"Mama-" I cut him off. "Yes. Sure, ma'am. I'll come for dinner." I say, placing the box of cookies in my satchel. She laughs in glee.

"Alright! That's settled then. Now get going, or your teachers will have a field day with you two." She ushers us to the front door, closing the it once we're outside. I glance at him for a second, then start walking in a fast pace.

"Y/N!" He calls out.

"Oh, first name basis again? Didn't know we were that close." I say, Joseph catching up to my side.

"Please, I can explain. Let me." I scoff, disbelief in my face.

"No, thanks. Go have some fun with your girlfriend." I try to walk faster, but he catches up anyway.

"She's not my girlfriend, I swear. Y/N, please. You're killing me here." His voice cracks in desperation, and it takes all my strength not to stumble from my suddenly shaky legs.

"Good." He whimpers. Fucking whimpers. Holy shit, please give me strength.

"Y/N. Please. Just, please." I slow down a bit, pitying him.

"You have one minute." I face him, crossing my arms.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Ex then?" He shakes his head profusely.

"No. I don't even know her. She just came up to me and started getting all over me."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Please do. Because I swear on my life, Y/N, I would never do that to you."

"But you did. You did when you were talking shit about me to your friends. You did when you let her get all over you." He doesn't speak, and my throat goes dry.

"Exactly. So don't even fucking talk." I turn around and walk away, tears pooling my eyes. I can't believe him. I can't believe me.

××《☆》××

I stand next to Simone in front of the gate, tapping my foot against the gravel.

"What are we doing here again?" I ask, seeing Simone bite her lip in anxiety.

"We're waiting for-" Simone cuts herself off, shouting for Michèle. I walk towards the both of them.

"Michèle, it's been weeks. How long will you be mad?" I delay behind them, trying to give both girls privacy.

"How long have you been seeing my brother behind my back?" Oh. So they got together. I'm happy for Simone, though I already had an idea, but this was the moment she was dreading to come.

They get through the gate. "I wanted to tell you." Simone explains.

Michèle only glances at her. "You played me for a fool."

It's worrying to see both my closest friends argue because you don't know whether or not they'll recover and stay friends.

"It wasn't like that." Simone breaks my thoughts.

"Does he know about Alain?" Michèle says, seemingly angry if her brother did know.

"Of course not. I never told him anything you shared with me." Simone flushes. "If he knew anything, you'd have known about it." They stop walking. I keep my distance.

"I never said it was Jean Pierre, but the rest was true." Someone calls out for Michèle.

"I miss our talks." That was the last thing Simone said before Michèle got dragged away by some girls.

I walk up to Simone, smiling slightly.

"So..." I pause, looking up at her. "Jean Pierre?"

This gets her so smile a bit, red covering her cheeks.

"Yeah." She tucks her hair behind her ear, and I can't help but giggle at her antic.

"He was Eugène the whole time?" I question. She looks at me with even more red on her cheeks.

"I knew it." We both giggle in our girlish nature as we head inside the school.

××《☆》××

Two beeps are heard outside the gate of Voltaire, and I rush down the ramp. I accidentally bumped into someone, and I say a quick apology. I glance behind me, having to do a double take at the one-eyed boy. I look away quickly, walking to Callum's car.

"Pretty girl." Callum hands me a bouquet of pink tulips, and I smile at the sight of it, forgetting about Joseph for a second. Just a second.

"Where are we headed?" I ask, thanking Callum for opening the passenger's door for me.

"The beach. There's a car meet I was invited to take some photos of. Do you mind?" He opens up the roof, letting the wind outside and the heat hit us.

"No. Don't mind at all. Let's get going." He smiles at me simply, and I fail to notice some things he brought on the back of his car.

The drive to the beach was comfortably quiet, wind messing our hair up, the smell of salt and soil filling our senses.

From up the hill, I see the mounds of cars on the white sand below. I smile at the sight, ready for Callum's lovely rambling of all the different cars.

Callum once again opens my door for me, even rolling on the hood of the car for comedic action. It works, and I laugh at him. All he does is smile, offering his hand out for support.

The rest of the afternoon was spent taking photos of the cars, some of which he asked me to model for him again. I did so, adding some fun with the comfortable aura that surrounded both of us.

We moved the car to an area further from the meet, deciding to go out for a swim. I unfortunately wasn't ready for the trip, not bringing any swimwear, so Callum wastes no time to go to the shops behind us, telling me to get a new pair. He even paid for it, then waited for me to come out.

In Callum fashion, we took more pictures. We went for a swim, him wearing no top and just a pair of shorts. It didn't feel awkward around him. It felt so natural, like I'd known him longer than I do.

So when we finished playing in the salty water, and the sun was setting, we settled down on the mat to watch it.

"Y/N?" I turn my head to him, humming in response.

I see him fidget with his fingers. "I've known you for a while now, and in the time I've known you, it's been the best time of my life."

I get a sense of anxiety in him, so I grab his hand, and it feels familiar to a moment I shared with someone else. I push that thought down.

"Callum, talk to me. Is there something wrong?" He looks up at me, adoration in his brown doe eyes. I've seen that look before. Suddenly the smell of the ocean is suffocating me.

"Y/N, I love you. Nothing will ever change that." I breathe in a shaky breath. "I love that you care and that you're just effortlessly an amazing person." Tears pool under his eyes, and I cup his cheeks as they fall, wiping them away. He cups that hand with his.

"You're amazing, and I would never wanna lose you. I don't want to let you go." He pauses, and I await his next words. "But I have to."

I furrow my brows, wondering what he meant. I nod at him to go on.

"You love him. It's so clear that I'm surprised you don't even know it." My mind blanks.

"And it's completely fine. You don't have to worry about me, because if you'll let me, I'll stay, and I'll love you while you love him." He sniffles, and my heart breaks for him.

The sky is orange, with pinks and blues popping out through some clouds. The ocean waves crash against the white sand, foam popping as it loops back. I can hear our hearts beating, our breaths shaking, and our skin grasping at the other.

"Callum, please don't hate me." He chuckles, kissing the inside of my hand.

"I could never hate you, pretty girl." Tears seep out of my eyes as it did his, and he hushes me, pulling me in his bare chest, caressing my back as I sob apologies to him.

It goes on for a while, and we sit there, the sun gone, cars revving in the distance, waves crashing, seagulls squawking, the moon shining on our bodies, and tears as salty as the sea.

When we pull away, he cups my face and stares. He stares at me with a smile, his broken heart still beating. And I look at him like he's a saint. And he is.

We don't talk on the way home, still a comfortable silence between us. As we stop walking infront of my flat, he says something to break the long silence.

"Still up for tomorrow?" I nod. I had told him this morning that I had some errands to run. He agreed to take me around town. I'm glad he still wants to come through.

Before he walks away and disappears around the corner, I call out for him. He turns around, hand in his pockets.

"You know I love you too, right?" He smiles that sweet smile. I can't help but do the same. He walks back to me slowly, cupping my cheek like he did in the beach.

"I know." He whispers, leaning in to kiss my forehead, lingering. He pulls away, still smiling, and walks away for good.

I get in my flat, closing the door and looking at George.

"I don't wanna talk about it." He meows. I lift him up to go cuddle in my room.

××《☆》××

The next day goes through smoothly. Callum picks me up at the end of the day. We stopped by my flat first, and I picked George up, deciding to finally take him out of the house.

The first stop was the pharmacy, and the person I've been dreading to see was there. I asked Callum if he needed anything, and all he does is shake his head. I open the door with George in hand, standing eye to eye with the taller boy.

"Descamps." I say in greeting. He's heaving, eye scanning my frame like he always does. I purse my lips, greeting the pharmacist. The pharmacist greets George, seeing I've brought him around from time to time. George was basically a regular here.

"Pardine." He greets, but his voice shivers. I almost ask him what's wrong, 'till I remember.

George wriggles out of my arms and into his. He loses his balance a bit, regaining it as he holds George like a baby, like he did before. Fuck, I miss him.

"Hello, George." He smiles softly at the cat, and I can't help but melt internally. I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. He's holding him so gently, and my heart pound in my chest. Hard.

I grab my things from the pharmacist, thanking them quietly before trying to get George. He growls at me, and I stare at him in shock. Joseph looks up at me. When I look at him, I don't look away immediately.

"I can take him to your car." He says in an almost whisper, turning his head down. He's so shy, and I just want to hold him.

Before we could get out, Michèle goes through the door of the pharmacy. I smile at her gently, greeting her a hi. She greets me back. I wait for her, wlaking with her outside.

"Laubrac, what a surprise." She says, and I roll my eyes at her. She looks at me sheepishly, making a pointed look at Joseph. I understand the sign.

"Did you plan to meet here?" I wave at Laubrac, and he smiles, cigarette in between his fingers.

"What are you doing here?" Joseph asks Laubrac as he eyes the boy up and down, the shy demeanourhe had with me long gone. George is still in hand, but now he carries him with one arm.

"My parents' butcher shop isn't far." Michèle cuts in. "I have to go, or my mom will kill me. See you at school." She bids off to the three of us.

"Aren't you working with your chickens today?" Joseph asks Laubrac, and I glare at his rudeness. He doesn't notice.

"Even farmhands get time off." Laubrac answers simply. There's a pause.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." Laubrac walks off now, leaving me and Joseph infront of the alley.

"Let's just go." I walk to Callum, seeing him smoking a cigarette in the car, window opened slightly. He spots the two of us and unlocks the door. Joseph's quick to open it for me, and I just look at him, flushing at the gesture.

"Thanks." I whisper, ducking my head to get seated. Joseph crouches down, kissing George's head, and placing him on my lap.

"Joseph. Long time no see." Callum raises a hand in greeting, throwing the dead cigarette out his open window.

"Callum. Saw you pick her up yesterday. Where were you guys headed?" Joseph raises a brow, some sort of annoyance in his voice.

"Took her to the beach to a car meet. Did some swimming, she learnt something about me, and I told her something about herself." Callum puts simply.

Joseph doesn't like his answer. "Told her something about herself, huh?"

Callum notices his tone and chuckles. "Yeah. Something she needed to set straight. You know, something she knows deep down, but she's not doing anything about it." Joseph's gripping hard on the door handle, his knuckles going white.

"And what would that be?" Callum smiles at him.

"Can't tell you. Only she can. Actually, you can probably help her out with it. I'm sure you're feeling the same way she does." That's when I whip my head to face the boy, face as red as a ferrari, heart beating faster than a race car. Sorry, Callum's rambling is affecting me.

"Yeah? What's she feeling? I doubt that it's anything bad, considering that's not how I feel about her." Joseph looks at me, leaning against his now crossed arms in the window shield. With both boys' attention on me, my breathing hollows.

"It's nothing. Bye, Descamps." Callum chuckles, getting the car to start, then beeping it at Joseph as a goodbye. Once we're far away enough, I hit Callum on the shoulder.

"What was that for?" I scream out, embarrassment flooding off of me. Callum won't stop laughing.

"Oh, come on. You two knuckleheads should just get together! You're so obviously in love." I groan, covering my face with my hands. George meows at me.

"I can't believe you, Callum."

"Plus, summer's in a few. You're gonna have to tell him before you leave." Shit. Summer. Paris. I haven't told him yet.

"Fuck. I hate that you're right." I think for a while. "But we're still on bad terms!"

"You just want to be on bad terms because you don't wanna confront him about it. I can see, very clearly, actually, how much you guys want to be together."

His response makes the gears in my head turn. He's right, I admit it. But how do I tell him? When? Where?

Then I remember the girl, and he'll probably forget about me before I even leave. He won't notice that I'm gone.

So, now that I think about it, it won't be so hard. So why can't I bring myself to be relieved? As if I want it to be hard. For him to beg for me not to leave. Not to go. Not to move.

Because if I do, I'll forget about him. But I could never forget him, no matter how hard I try. Because he's Joseph Descamps, the boy who I love too much for my own good. The boy with one eye. The boy I think about when looking at the future. The boy that will always stay in my mind, heart, and soul.

It'll be easy. If not for me, for him. He'll fall in love with some girl, marry her, live with her, have a family with her, grow old with her. Then I'll just be there, thinking about him day and night, counting the endless possibilities and what ifs.

And if I had just realised earlier, told him earlier, loved him earlier, then maybe, just maybe, I'd be happy.

That's not the case. Not now, not ever. And I'll have to live with that 'till the day I die, with him in mind.

××《☆》××

There was a test that morning. Laubrac came in late. We finished the test. The day ends. It was simple. Quiet. But, chaos came in an errand again.

Joseph walks into the butchers, and I internally gape at the sight of him. He's so, so beautiful. I think I might cry. I can't even describe how beautiful he looks right now. I wish I could kiss that patch again. Cup his face with my hands again. Brush his hair, hold his hand, and feel his lips on mine.

The store is quiet, and customers look at the walking image of beauty, including Michèle's mother. She calls out for her husband.

I just stare at Joseph. He doesn't notice I'm there, fully focused on the couple.

"I hear the Magnan's like to sleep with foreigners and thugs." I furrow my eyebrows, frustrated at the juncture.

"You're the only thug here." I keep my eyes on Joseph, trying to figure out his next move.

"The thug is that foster kid sleeping with your fifteen year old daughter." Joseph answers. I purse my lips disappointedly.

"You didn't know?" He says, acting all innocent. "I'm sorry, but it's true. Your son's too busy fooling around with a foreign girl to warn you."

What the actual fuck. What's gotten into him?

"Get out!" Mrs. Magnan says. "It's all lies. Lies!"

He chuckles, and why the fuck is it so attractive?

"Really? If it was, you wouldn't be so upset."

He has a point there, but it's still an asshole thing to do.

"You little shit." Mr. Magnan mumbles.

"Say hi to Jean Pierre for me."

"I'll teach you a lesson!" Mr. Magnan shouts as he walks to the exit, but I beat him to it.

I walk up hurriedly to Joseph, pulling at his shoulder to face me.

"What the fuck was that?" I shout, anger pounding jn my veins.

"It's true, and you know it. Why are you so angry?" He says as if it's simple.

"They're my friends, Joseph! Why the fuck wouldn't i be upset about it?" I push his chest.

"Back to first name basis, Y/N? Go back to your boyfriend and talk about those feelings of yours." This makes my hear shatter against my chest.

"For the last time, he isn't my boyfriend."

"Why does it seem that way, huh? Do you like leading people on? Should've known. Went through it anyway!" He starts to walk away.

"You go back to your girlfriend, asshole!" He turns around and flips me off.

I fight the urge not to just sob in the middle of the street. Unbeknownst to me, he feels the same, too.

××《☆》××

I received a call in the house as soon as I get home. I pick it up, wiping the tears on my cheeks.

"Hello?" I try to hide the shake in my voice.

"Y/N, darling? This is Mrs. Descamps." Shit. Worst timing.

"Oh, good afternoon, ma'am. Is there something wrong?" I ask, worry etching my voice.

"Well, I meant to ask if you were still coming tonight. But there's also something else I wanna talk about." I furrow my brows, sniffling a bit.

"Um, sure, I'll still go." I shut my eyes in regret. I should've said no. "What is it you want to talk about?"

"Well, Joseph came home a bit gloomy. He hasn't come out of his room, and whenever I ask him what's wrong, he just tells me off. I'm worried, you know, as a mother is, and I was wondering if anything happened at school." My heart aches for the woman.

"Well, to be honest, ma'am, I think it's better if you ask him. I don't want to say anything I'm not supposed to."

"Oh, well, that's alright." There's a lace of disappointment in her voice. "Well, I'll see you later, darling. Come by 7 or later." We bid each other goodbye and hang up.

I put my pearl necklace on, the item in contrast with my red dress. It's quite formal, but that's what you wear for dinner, right? There's a semi-big bow on the back, wrapped around my waist like a present.

Time passes as I get ready. The whole time, my heart pounded in my chest. I'd have to see him again. Talk to him. And after that argument.

So when I arrive and knock on the door, and Joseph answers, my heart stops its beating.

Thankfully, Mrs. Descamps ushers me in her home once again, and we're at the dinner table, eating silently. Well, just Mrs. Descamps really. Me and Joseph don't touch our food, keeping our head down.

"Something wrong with the food, children?" Mrs. Descamps says, and I'm quick to dismiss the idea, not wanting her to feel down about it.

"There's nothing wrong with the food, ma'am. I just... I ate a bit before coming here." I take a hold of her hand, reassuring her.

"Oh, that makes sense." She grabs her sons hand. "What about you, my angel? You haven't eaten anything when you got home."

I glance at him in worry, his eye catching me. We put our heads down at the same time.

"Just no appetite, Mama." He purses his lips at her.

"I hope you're not mad about earlier. I won't make you get the glass eye anymore." She looks at me again, a mischievous smile on her face. "At least Y/N here thinks you're beautiful." I flush at the mention of the incident, wanting the ground to swallow me whole.

"Good. That's the only opinion that matters." He whispers to himself, but I heard it clear.

"So," Mrs. Descamps drops both our hands and gets back to eating. I start on my plate, too. "Is there something you two want to tell me?"

I blush profusely. "What do you mean, Mrs. Descamps?"

"Well, there's obviously something between you two." Mrs. Descamps shrugs. Joseph calls his mother out, and I flush even more in my seat.

"Okay, just because I'm old doesn't mean I don't know what love looks like. Me and your father-"

"Mama, please stop." Joseph groans through his hands, Mrs. Descamps laughing at her son.

"Okay, fine. I'll talk to you later." Mrs. Descamps winks at her child, then suddenly, the air isn't so suffocating anymore.

When dinner ends, Mrs. Descamps makes Joseph walk me out. We're outside their house now.

"She doesn't know about your girlfriend?" I put simply, not letting him know my heart is in shambles. He rolls his eye at me, and I have a feeling it'll make his head ache soon.

"She's not my girlfriend." I hear feet pattering against the dark cobble stone street. I turn my head, and there she was. The girl we were just talking about.

"Well, she doesn't think that." I observe her nice puffy dress, jewellery shining from the moonlight, her hair done up. She even has a bit of makeup on. I smile at her, turning back to Joseph, but not looking in his eyes.

"I called her to meet here." Joseph states, and I chuckle. He seems to have gotten what it was I was chuckling about. Tears rim my eyes in frustration.

"It's not what it seems like-" I quickly cut him off, passing by the girl in a hurry.

I hear him call out my name, and I almost trip at the desperation of it. He's always giving off the idea that he wants me, but in the end, I realise I'm in a loophole and I'm finally aware I've been a fool.

I hate Joseph. I hate his toothy smile. I hate his messy ash hair. I hate his towering frame. I hate the dirt colour eyes he has. I hate the way he walks fast with his long legs.

Fuck. Why does it always end like this? I always say I hate him, then I don't, then, like a loop, I do. When will it end? When will I finally decide how I feel?

For now, it's all his fault. It's his fault for making me feel this way. His fault for being so pretty it hurts. His fault for being so... so... Fuck.

Just plain fuck.

××《☆》××

End- Chapter seven: Salvatore

Next- Chapter eight: Joseph, Joseph, Joseph

××《☆》××

DONE W THIS CHAPTER AND ONLY 3 MORE CHAPTERS TO GO!!! We've come so far and my heart hurts for the both of them but it's part of the process. To all the Callum haters, I told u guys u would regret hating on him. We love Callum and I don't accept the hate. So guys love him pls he needs it. Anwww happy reading (not so happy this chapter is pure angst)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being engaged to my former best friend's ex-girlfriend after he cheated on her with the girl who bullied me and was my fiance's best friend?

I(29M) am engaged to the most amazing woman ever (27F) for 7 months now. We will call her Naomi.

You see she used to be my ex long time f best friend's girlfriend (We will call him Marcus) They seem to be a happy couple when they were together and I used to think they made a great couple back then too. There was one problem though, Naomi was best friends with this girl (we call Zoe). Zoe made my life back in our school days a living hell. She didn't like me because I was a redhead and took every opportunity to hurt me or scar me, even put gum and glue in my hair, thankfully my cousin was a hair stylist and got it all off. Once I went off to college I didn't have to worry about her until Marcus started dating Naomi. She still mocks me, but was very subtle about it.

Marcus knew what Zoe did to me throughout our school days and has stood up for me time and time again. Back then, I thought he understood and was my big supporter and a brother I never had (I have 6 sisters) I was hoping him and Naomi would get married and I'd be the best man at their wedding. Naomi was nothing like Zoe, she's a total sweetheart, a literal angel and pretty intelligent. She and Zoe we're best friends since College.

But then on my birthday, I discovered that he was sleeping with Zoe when I went to visit him to go out for drinks. It was like I was in a twilight zone or a horror movie or something, seeing someone who I thought was my best friend on the couch getting it on with the one person who traumatized me and made my life hell. I got angry and yelled at him, demanding to know how can he do this. Marcus try to explain himself and beg me not to tell Naomi, but I was having none of it and left. I don't know why, but I started to cry.

I called Naomi and asked her to come over to my place. Once you saw me, she knew something was wrong because she saw them my eyes were red and I was agitated. She wished me a happy birthday, to which I reply "I wish it a happy one..." when she asked what I meant by that, I told her about Marcus and Zoe. She thought I was lying, but realize that I was telling the truth after she put two and two together why my eyes were red and I was agitated. She started crying and was heartbroken. Marcus was her first boyfriend and he cheated on her with someone she thought was her best friend. We both cried together the betrayals. Since then I have cut Marcus out of my life and Naomi cutting Zoe out of hers.

When the pandemic first hit Naomi didn't have nowhere to go because her lease what's up and she couldn't return home ( She was from Washington) and I offer her a place to stay. To be honest, we were getting along as being roommates. We took turns cooking and did our equal share of chores and pay bills. We even found out we have a lot of things in common and randomly, we just ended up falling in love with each other. I even introduced her to my family, close friends and some co-workers I am close with. On New Years of 2023 I proposed to her and she said yes.

Well, here we are in the present, I found out that Zoe tried to contact Naomi while she was out to lunch with my sister and tried to get her the break up with me so they can be friends again, saying things like I wasn't good for her and that she will help her find a new guy for Naomi. For what my sister told me, Naomi told her " Why? So you can sleep with that guy too? Sorry but I refuse to become friends again with a backstabbing sl*t" And hung up the phone. Now you can see why I love this woman.

Yesterday, I got a phone call from an unknown number. Turns out to be my ex best friend Marcus. Word had gotten around that me and Naomi are engaged and Marcus was furious, asking 'How could I get together with his ex and why would I betray him like that?'

I reply with "Excuse me, who do you think was the one that betrayed me and Naomi? You betrayed Naomi by getting with her best friend and you betrayed me because you knew what she put me through and you knew how she treated me. You are in no place to get angry with me when you were the one that betrayed the both of us first. Second, me and Naomi haven't contacted you in 4 years, how did you get my new number?"

He told me that it didn't matter and said that he thought the two of us have gotten over that already and that he was trying to get back together with Naomi. That's when I said " the only reason you're trying to get back together with Naomi is because Zoe dumped you after she caught you cheating on her with her boss, right? I heard about it from your brother. I guess Zoe wasn't enough for you that you had to sleep with her boss? And that her boss wants nothing to do with you because it was only just s*x for her? Who's to say that you're not going to cheat on Naomi again? It's your fault for letting such an amazing girl go in the first place. You never appreciate what she done for you, don't ever contact me or Naomi again! In fact, don't even come near us, you are dead to us!"

I couldn't help but feel guilty about what I said. I know I shouldn't but I do. Naomi said not to worry about it and smiled at me since we are getting married next month. But, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[kookiecrumb]

JJK || Someway

Chapter Five (Finalé)

previous • masterlist

summary: You go on a non-refundable cruise with your LA realtor ex-boyfriend. Things get interesting.

tags: one bed trope, exes to lovers, mutual pining, stubborn!y/n, vacation, smut, angst, fluff

warnings (per chapter): smut (18+), fingering, breast touchin and lickin, use of the word sl*t, horny grinding, creaming in his pants, creaming in her panties, slight angst, unprotected sex*(don't do this), pussy tastin', backshots, creampie, possessive jungkook, multiple orgasms, smol fluff

wc: 1.4K

With your face flush with embarrassment, you lay down a hundred dollar bill on the table and leave.

You knew this night would turn sour and yet you decided on going out with him anyways. Really, this is all your own fault. You'd have to eat your words very soon.

You didn't bother chasing after Jungkook at first. Your priority was getting to a safe place. You couldn't bring yourself to hide in the bathrooms like a coward again. You just needed to hope that he hadn't run back to the hotel room.

When do things ever go right for you anyways?

There he is, standing before the bed with his fingertips grazing the sheets. He knows you're here but he does not look up to greet you. Instead, he says this:

"Do you have a problem with me?

Do you have some sort of problem with me?"

He holds.

"Honestly.

All day, you act like you never want to see me but as soon as we're alone you give me these fuck me eyes and what am I supposed to think about that?

What am I supposed to assume when I get your horny text messages at 3 AM– and I know you've been drinking because I can smell it on your clothes and some other guys cologne–

It makes me fucking sick.

To watch you break yourself over wanting me back.

You know why you need to stay away from me yet the devil on your shoulder beckons you to me does it not? You miss it.

You've been searching for that same thrill that I gave you every time we linked, but you can't find it anywhere else on this ship– not even out there in the real world.

Because you need me.

As much as your stuck up ass hates to admit anything to me– it's in your eyes, Y/N. It's in the way that just now, your attitude towards me changed completely from defensive to vulnerable.

You insist you're not into me, right? You're fucking confusing. You're so dense.

You'd let me fuck it out of you right now.

You called me a liar.

You're a liar and you're a coward and I'm going to prove it to you right now."

Your face transforms.

"If I'm wrong you'll correct me."

He paces closer, folding his arms over each other.

"Isn't that right, Y/N? You're just as desperate as I am for the kind of sex we had. I know how to touch you right and you're so afraid of saying that no other guy…can make you feel like I do…"

"Because it'll make you feel weak, like you've surrendered something." His words get softer as he approaches you, his stance starkly parallel to you.

"Can you do that for me? Surrender to me."

It is in this moment in which you learn to let go of every part of you that's screaming for you to refrain from inching forward and kissing him. Every stubborn cell in your body is fighting against your instinct to pull forward and allow him to take you in him once again.

It is such a bitter return to the man who truly knows how to handle you. He is the only one that understands the needs of your body and you cannot deny him any longer. It would be like denying oxygen or water.

From the way his eyes analyze your face to his posture, his hips leaning towards you, open towards any touch you grant him. He is not intimidated by your game anymore. Jungkook is a grown man who knows exactly what he wants from you, and that is for you to squirm under him and admit your defeat.

The ever-tempting surrender, the white flag that he's been beckoning from you silently, now spoken and in the heavy air between the two of you. Resistance at this point is fatal and you know it by the way Jungkook's eyes are lit up, like a tiger's waiting to strike on wounded prey.

His lips remain parted, the words seemingly still hanging from his lips. Your surrender is already circulating his mind, and his thoughts are now infiltrated by a vision of you fucked and ruined on the bed next to you in a thousand different positions. He tilts his head towards you.

You switch between his eyes. "I surrender."

He has you pinned within seconds on the bed with his hips pressed into your clothed cunt just to tease. His big hands squeeze your ass, kneading promptly as he sucks and kisses your pliant lips. You moan softly with each breath, feeling him harden beneath you.

You pull him down with your legs and grind as his mouth discovers the peak of your breast, wrapping his lips around them and teasing them between his teeth.

"Fuhhck, Jungkook,," you whine, weaving your fingers through your hair. The straps from your dress dangle from either side of you, your tits fully accessible to him as his tongue laps at them. He furrows his eyebrows in need. You glance down at him. The sight sends a thrill to your pussy.

While grinding on him, you find a sweetspot against him. It stimulates your throbbing clit nicely, causing you to melt under him. He smiles into a sweet kiss. He could feel your heat through your pathetic underwear.

He grunts and readjusts his pelvis. You feel his whole cock now, warm and incredibly firm beneath his pants. As much as you try to spread yourself on him, it's not enough. Your cunt is begging to be penetrated and filled with his cum. Your body heats up and a thin film of sweat accumulates on your body.

It's not enough. It's not enough and it's too much all at once. You squirm.

Jungkook forces your hips down. "Don't fucking move. I'm going to cum,"

You gasp, unable to contain your insatiable wish for him to cream in his pants while humping you. "Ohh, Kookie…" you sigh, taking in his scent as your nails scratch his broad back. "Fuck~ me too, I wanna cum,,"

Your body convulses in pleasure, your heart fluttering against your chest as your legs tighten impossibly around Jungkook's mighty thighs. His hips stagger as he paints the inside of his dress pants white, panting wildly as he catches your lips in a hasty kiss.

It's an amazing relief. The release leaves your head spinning and your body needing more of him almost immediately. He's peeling the clothes off of himself before your hooded eyes, biting his lip in concentration.

You run your hands down his abdominals. He smirks, noticing your horny touch. "Keep going," he encourages as he releases his flaccid cock from his pants. Even half-hard, Jungkook is impressive. His length is almost halfway the size of his thigh.

You moan at the sight of it, kicking off your panties and pulling up your once pristine dress. His fingers tease at your cunt, his middle and index stroking you methodically before filling you experimentally. Immediately, you buck up for him.

"Slut," he smirks.

He's visibly sticky from his orgasm, and you're flooding for him already. He takes a string of your arousal and laps it. It's a nostalgic taste. "Ohhh fuck, I missed your tight little pussy," he groans.

In one fluid motion, he penetrates you. You're so dripping wet that his massive cock glides in, settling snugly beneath your cervix. You need him deeper. Realizing this, you get on your knees and lift yourself so that he can get deeper. You will spare no pleasure.

Jungkook's tattooed hands play and flick your cunt as he buries himself inside of you.

"Mmm~!"

He leans down and kisses you lovingly, securing you to the mattress as he snaps his hips into you. Your quivering hands grip the sheets tightly as he delivers his thrusts, shaking with overwhelming pleasure.

You tense, breathing heavy as you discover your fast-approaching orgasm. "Mmgh, mmn…" you mew, feeling your entire body flare up in burning need for his cum.

"Mine…" he growls as his pounding stutters. "Mine, fucking mine, mine, fuck, mine–" he pants wildly, creaming inside of you in desperation. His cum spills out of you, dripping over the white sheets beneath you.

He relents, shifting the both of you so he can kitten-lick you clean. He helps you up, generously and kisses you. "I'm so happy," he remarks.

You carefully hold his face and smile. "So am I."

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this series as much as I have and I'm sorry for such a delayed chapter, I was graduating lol

permatags: @kooliv @koobsessed @angelwonie @carolynanderson @hoseokgrecns @bangsterz @swykoon @sxtaep @koostarcandy @hgema @jjkeverlast @armys-dna @nglmrk

taglist: @jimin444 @theaufanartist @n-e-v-0-u @abgldadna47

[pinkandblueblurbs]

Hi ma chérie I hope you are well!! I just wanted to say I love your writing !! I was wondering if you wanted to could you write a Remus x reader x Sirius where Remus is like in control and telling Sirius what to do and refusing to touch you until he decides you deserve it haha idk but yeah just an idea and I know you wrote possessive Remus earlier already so if you don’t want to totally understand! ❤️

this. is. fantastic. i love this request so much, thank you lovely, I hope you enjoy! And I really hope you don’t dislike daddy kinks,,,, bc i made the reader call Remus daddy just to accentuate that he’s the one in charge, not you and not even really Sirius. Also made a bit of tension/rivalry between you and Sirius, based off ideas the 🦩 anon describes on @randomoutsiders ‘s page! Hope you like it xx (also u calling me ma chérie made me 🥰 ily bby)

a/n: this ended up l o n g and i’m not sure that I really like it,,,,, but oh well. I apologize for any typos, I really dont feel like proofreading this rn

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader x Sirius Black. Daddy kink, dom/sub, degradation (Sirius calls you sl*t, as always), face slapping (brief, a single slap), throat fucking, fingering, orgasm denial

Sirius’s tongue enthusiastically explores your mouth as you stand in the middle of the dormitory. The soft click of a lock indicates Remus’s location by the door as you begin to lose yourself in the taste and sensation of Sirius’s mouth.

“Get her undressed, Pads” Remus’s voice orders softly. Sirius pulls away from you then, prompting you to turn towards the commanding voice that had just spoken. A whine leaves your throat as you see Remus leaning casually against the wall, feet away from you, clearly not intending to touch you any time soon.

“Daddy” your voice is plaintive as Sirius’s nimble fingers move over the buttons of your uniform, working the shirt off your body.

All Remus offers in response to your unspoken plea for his attention is a murmured. “S’alright poppet. Be a good girl for Sirius.”

“Yeah, pup, be good for me” Sirius reiterates, giving you a cocky grin. You scowl at him as he pops open the clasp of your bra, pulling the straps down your shoulders. Then he’s on to your skirt and panties, pulling them down your legs, and you step out of both garments obediently.

“On your knees.” Sirius orders gruffly once he’s standing back at his full height, your clothes tossed to the side, forgetten. You turn to Remus for confirmation, resistant to obeying Sirius’s command.

“Do as he says. On your knees.” The freckled man encourages with a raised brow, daring you to challenge him. You quickly drop to your knees at Remus’s command, looking up at Sirius innocently through your lashes. He seems caught up in your gaze, making no moves to progress further.

“Get your cock out, Pads, we don’t have all day.” Remus’s teasing voice pipes up after a beat of silence. You give Sirius a mocking grin at the fact that he was reprimanded by Remus, which only grows as he rushes to comply with the man’s order, hands fumbling with the fly of his pants.

“Gonna wipe that fucking grin right off your face, pup” Sirius growls down at you, freeing his half-hard cock. He looks ready to thrust forward, to fully sheath his cock inside your throat in one rough motion, but a firm order from Remus stops him dead in his tracks.

“Slow for now, Sirius. Wanna watch her pretty mouth on ya.” Sirius nearly argues at that, turning to the freckled man indignantly, but any words of dispute die on his tongue as he meets Remus’s hard stare. With a roll of his eyes Sirius looks down at you once more, swinging his cock before your face with his grip on its base.

“You heard the man, pup. Use that pretty mouth on me.” Sirius encourages, the grumbled nature of his words betraying his disappointment at not being allowed to fuck your throat just yet. Regardless, he coaxes you forward gently with a hand in the back of your hair. You lean forward just enough to ghost your tongue over the head of his cock, littering the sensitive skin with teasing kitten licks. Sirius growls.

“Don’t be a fucking tease-“

“S’alright, pads, let her suck you off how she wants.” Remus’s voice cuts off Sirius’s irritated protest. Your eyes flit to your left to see the aforementioned man, still leaning against the wall, watching your actions intently with a prominent tent in his trousers. He’s clearly enjoying the show. When your eyes meet Sirius’s once more, you give him a triumphant smirk.

“Yeah, Sirius, let me suck you off how-“ your cocky repetition of Remus’s words is cut off by a gasp as Sirius lands a blow on your cheek. Your head snaps to the side only slightly with the impact, thanks to the hand still tangled in your hair, but a stinging pain blossoms on your warm skin. Arousal also pulses through your cunt, but that doesn’t stop you from looking up at Sirius indignantly.

“Daddy!” You turn to your left, meeting Remus’s gaze “he hit me!” You say the words with such offense you’d think such a thing doesn’t happen on the regular (which, in reality, it does). To drive your point home, you bring a hand up to rub at the still tingling site of impact.

“Cause you were bein’ a fuckin brat” Sirius growls out from above you, giving your hair a rough tug. Your gaze snaps back to him, mouth open and ready to make a snarky retort, but you’re cut off.

“Enough. Y/n, what did I say? Be a good girl for Sirius. He’s in charge, understand?” You resist the urge to scoff at Remus’s words, because clearly someone’s in charge and it is decidedly not Sirius. Remus must catch your incredulous expression, because he adds “He’s in charge of you. Now do what he says, and make him feel good, cause I’m not touching you until you’ve earned it. Is that clear?”

“But daddy-“

“Is. That. Clear?” Remus’s tone is low and dangerous, and his gaze is hard, warning you not to push him any farther or there will be consequences.

“Yes, daddy.” You murmur, lowering your hand from your cheek and facing forwards once again so you’re met with Sirius’s stiff length.

“Get back to it then, pup.” Sirius orders, and you can’t miss the smugness in his tone. You bite back any bratty comments in favor of leaning forward to lick a long, slow stripe up the underside of the man’s cock, from base to tip, before taking the head in your mouth and suckling gently.

“That’s more like it, slut.” The raven haired man murmurs, fingertips massaging your scalp. You bring a hand up to wrap around the base of his cock, but it’s quickly slapped away. “No hands, pretty girl. Just want your sweet mouth on me.” You barely manage to supress the urge to roll your eyes at Sirius’s command, but luckily, since it’s truly in your best interest, you do. Your hands find their position on your lap, clasped together in a show of obedient submission.

You work your mouth diligently over the head of his cock, suctioning lightly and swirling your tongue around it. Through your concentration, you faintly register Remus’s pleased hum.

“That’s a good girl, poppet. Look so pretty suckin’ cock.” Remus’s gentle voice pipes up. You moan at the praise and lower your head to take a bit more of Sirius’s length into your mouth. The coupling of both actions pulls a strained groan from Sirius’s throat, and you feel his hand tighten in your hair as he struggles to contain his desire to buck forward into your throat.

“Alright Pads. Go on, fuck her slutty little mouth.” Remus allows. You intend to make a quick glance in his direction, but the image of the man leaning against the wall, eyes wild as he watches you, hand palming his bulge through his trousers, has your gaze lingering. You’re attention is quickly brought back to the cock in your mouth, however, as it surges forwards, prodding at the back of your throat. Sirius holds your head down as you gag intensely around him. Tears spring to your eyes, then begin to roll down your cheeks as you blink desperately up at Sirius in a silent plea for relief.

Benevolently, Sirius pulls you back by your hair, allowing you to gasp in a shaky lung full of air. A pale, slender finger comes down to break the string of saliva that hangs connecting your lips to Sirius’s cock.

“Look at that. Such a good cocksucker.” Sirius praises, giving your cheek a tantilizing pat. Your earlier desire to disobey, rebel, and be all around bratty towards Sirius has all but disappeared now that you’ve had a taste of cock. Rather than offer some sassy retort you merely lean forward, mouth open slack, to replace his length inside it. Sirius chuckles.

“And so eager.” He muses, this time starting a shallow movement of thrusts that your relaxed throat can manage. Remus hums approvingly.

“That’s my good girl. I knew you could behave for Padfoot, bunny.” He murmurs, voicing said approval. You practically glow at the praise, continuing to concentrate on keeping your jaw slack for the cock driving past your lips. Sirius grunts softly, and his thrusts become slightly more erratic, leading Remus to speak up once again.

“Stop.” The freckled man orders. Sirius groans at that, and pulls your head down so you’re stilled with your nose against his pubic bone. You barely manage to supress a gag as his tip teases your reflex.

“Moons-“

“Don’t argue, Sirius, you’ll be back in her mouth soon. Just get her on the bed.” Remus interrupts, sounding stern.

With a soft sigh Sirius releases the pressure on your head, allowing you to pull back off his cock, sputtering and coughing slightly. Sirius watches you, expression pitying, and mutters a soft “dirty slut.” You’re given little time to recover as he promptly drags you to your feet by your hair, leading you over to his bed.

“Lay down, pup, head over the edge.” The words come out a bit of a rush, as Sirius is clearly eager to be balls deep inside your throat once again. You hesitate, suddenly charged with a renewed spark of bratty rebellion. However, before you get the chance to voice your dispute, Remus cuts in.

“Don’t be bad now, poppet. You’re so close to your reward.” That gives you pause. Your mouth quickly snaps shut, and you scramble to comply with Sirius’s command, driven by the promise of recompense. You lay down, backwards, so your head hangs off the foot of the bed, perfectly tilted to allow Sirius total access to your mouth and throat.

“Good slut. Open up for me, puppy, tongue out- that’s it.” You follow Sirius’s directions as he gives them to you, parting your lips and letting your tongue lull out from the confines of your mouth. He moves forward, giving a taunting tap with the head of his cock against the wet, outstretched muscle.

He’s quickly bucking forward, sheathing his length in your warm mouth once more, groaning at the sensation. He thrusts mercilessly, and that coupled with the harsh new angle has you choking with each rough movement.

“Fuck, just like that, puppy. Choke on my cock, that’s it.” Sirius grunts out, voice strained and gravelly. You grip tightly at the bedsheets, working hard to keep your mouth slack enough that the man can continue his invasion of your throat.

Finally he pulls back, giving you a brief moment’s pause to catch your breath, and when he does you notice Remus is now standing beside the bed, looking down at you appraisingly.

“Please, daddy” you choke out, voice weak thanks to Sirius’s rough treatment of your throat. Sirius’s hand is tangling in your hair then, tilting you upwards, coaxing your mouth back towards the cock that he’s angling downwards to feed into your lips. You keep your wide eyes fixed on Remus as you suckle at the tip obediently.

“What do you want, bunny?” He questions teasingly, meeting your pleading gaze with a raised brow. You let Sirius’s cock leave your lips with a soft pop.

“Touch me, please.” You beg unabashedly. Thus far you’d been doing a good job at ignoring the dull pulse of arousal between your legs, but it’s only grown more incessant as time went on. And now, with Remus standing above you, so close to giving you what you need, you can ignore it no longer.

“What do you think, Pads? Has she been a good girl?” Remus muses.

“I have, daddy” you whine before the raven haired man can answer.

“You’re not who I fuckin’ asked, poppet.” Remus admonishes, fixing you with a stern look.

“Was gonna say yes before she went and whined about it.” Sirius says, a taunting lilt dancing in his tone. You pout at that, brows furrowing upwards in a look of desperation.

“I’m sorry. Please, I need it, I tried so hard to be good.” You plea, hopeful eyes flitting between the two men as they pause, seemingly pondering their decision.

“I suppose you were a good little cocksucker, weren’t you?” Sirius muses, running his thumbs over your tear stained cheeks. You nod quickly, skin tingling with anticipation as the prospect of Remus’s touch grows ever nearer.

“Alright. She deserves it, Moony.” Sirius concedes. Before you have time to thank him his hand is cradling the back of your head, coaxing you upwards to take the head of his cock into your mouth once more. As you suckle at the mushroom tip, Remus’s hands finally find your skin, rubbing over the flesh of your breasts and trailing down to caress your abdomen. You moan lewdly around the cock in your mouth. Sirius groans.

“Fuck, Moons, ‘s even better with you touchin’ her. I love all the pretty sounds she makes.” Sirius grits out, pushing forward ever so slightly so you’re forced to take him halfway in your mouth.

“There’ll be plenty more where that came from.” Remus assures, moving onto the bed below you. He positions himself between your legs, large hands meeting your thighs to guide them apart, granting him access to your glistening folds.

“She nice and wet down there, Moons?” Sirius inquires, now thrusting shallowly into your mouth. Remus makes a confirming hum.

“Absolutely soaked. Surprised she didn’t make more of a fuss with how turned on she is.” Remus says, voice teasing. You jump as a finger swipes through your wet folds before releasing another moan. Sirius uses the oportune opening of your throat to push forward, making you gag.

“Alright Pads, fuck her good now. Bunny, don’t even think about cumming before Sirius.” Remus growls out. He pushes two fingers into you at the same time Sirius picks up the pace of his thrusts. Your eyes roll back at the assault of sensation from both ends, and you writhe beneath the two men.

Remus’s free hand comes up to hold down your squirming hips firmly, surely bruising your supple flesh. He drives his fingers in and out of your cunt steadily, caressing your g-spot with a practiced ease.

“That feel good, puppy? You like Remus’s fingers in your slutty little pussy?” Sirius taunts from above you, hips snapping forwards without pause. You nod as best you can, letting out a moan of assent. He curses. “That’s right, fuck, such a dirty little puppy.”

You’re cresting too soon, you realize, your body already on it’s upwards climb towards its peak. You clench around Remus’s fingers, and the man quickly picks up on this.

“Don’t you dare, bunny, you better fucking hold it.” He growls out, not halting his movements. “Be a good girl.”

You moan desperately, knuckles turning white with their tight grip in the bedsheets at your sides. You feel the coil inside you growing impossibly tight, and you know you need Sirius to cum soon if you’re to have any chance.

To aid in your attempt to obey Remus’s command, you bring a hand up, reaching above your head to cup Sirius’s balls in your palm. He groans as you gently fondle and squeeze them in your fingers.

“Fuck, puppy, just like that. Gonna cum down that pretty fuckin’ throat.” Sirius grits out. His hips are stuttering, and his sack is tightening in your hold. Soon he’s pulling back, leaving your empty mouth sputtering and coughing as he jerks himself above your face.

Just in time, the first rope of thick cum shoots from his cock, landing on your cheek. Remus quickly crooks his fingers and circles your clit with his thumb, leading you to follow Sirius in his release. A pornographic moan is torn from your used throat as your orgasm crashes over you, hips bucking wildly against Remus’s tight hold. At the same time, Sirius continues to paint your face with his spend, the fluid warm as it hits your skin and lips.

You tremble as your high slowly fades and Remus pulls his fingers from your still fluttering walls, hand moving to rub soothingly over your thighs.

“Good girl, poppet.” The freckled man praises gently. Above you, Sirius is panting, looking down at your cum covered face adoringly.

“And you were a good boy, Pads.” Remus adds in a teasing nature. You let out a weak laugh, looking up at Sirius, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

taglist:@thestunningspell @sweetlyblushedbouquet @snapesdaughsjm @kyleed24 @woman-with-no-name @pxroxide-prinxcesss @randomoutsiders

[ilalos]

Mine (Hvitserk x reader)

Summary: Hvitserk buys his own slave saving you from your horrible owner.

Warnings: mentions of slavery, physical ab*se, tiny mention of sex*al ab*se if you squint (nothing actually happens, it´s just Y/n’s fear), let me know if you see anything else that might be triggering.

Word count: 1,8k

You woke up suddenly from the cold surrounding your body and making your skin wet.

"Rise and shine sl*t" sang your master placing the, now empty, bucket on the ship's floor.

You quickly stood up and waited for whatever order he may have for you, and after being given a dress you quickly changed and ran to stand beside your master who was at the front of the ship. As he spoke with his men you allowed your mind to wander to your home life, when you were happy and free.

You were born in a very rich family and had been treated like a princess until your father passed away. When your father died your mother had to get married again quickly because she had no idea how to manage the many lands your family-owned, so she got married to Maqsud and he turned out to be a terrible man; he had his own daughters so for him you were an unwanted presence and due to that he decided to sell you as a slave and told your mom you disappeared. He sold you to Canute, your current master, who beat you at the smallest mistake and always woke you up with a bucket of icy water, he said it helped to keep you clean.

"Answer!" You awoke from your thoughts when you heard your master shouting "When I talk to you, you listen! Understood?!" he grabbed your face so hard you could already feel the bruises forming.

"Yes, master" you nodded as best as you could in his strong grip, he then released you with a push so hard you fell on your back, all air knocked from your lungs.

"As I was saying" he continued as if nothing had happened "You are being offered in this town, and hopefully I can get at least what I paid for you" he spat.

You didn't know how to feel at his words, you should be happy that you were finally getting rid of your abusive master but there was also the fear of having an even worse master that could do unspeakable things to you. You stared at the horizon and watched expectantly as land got closer and closer.

When the boat arrived your master quickly tied your hands together, so tight you could feel your hands becoming cold and numb. You were pulled towards a market and as you got there you saw a line of many girls tied just like you with their master behind them offering the girls as if they were meat. Your master pulled you harshly until you stood at the end of the line and he started shouting along with the others, offering his 'pure, virgin slave!'. You tried your best not to let the situation affect you and you held back tears and bit your lip.

"How much for this one" you heard a man ask but didn't dare to look at him for more than a second, he looked young.

"30 gold pieces" Canute offered smugly, almost sure that the young man would try to lower the price to at least 20 gold pieces and that would still be a good deal.

"Deal" the man answered simply and handed him a bag with the payment inside, your master counted, and when he confirmed he was given the right amount of gold he gestured for the man to take you.

"She's yours, take her" he pushed you towards him as if you were nothing.

The young man held your shoulders before you fell on your face and when you regained balance he held your chin and tilted your head upwards, so your eyes would meet his.

"I'm Hvitserk" he smiled "And you are...?" he questioned.

"Y/n" you whispered looking into his beautiful eyes, almost getting lost in them.

"Nice to meet you" he caressed your cheek softly "You are going to warm my bed every night from now on"

Your breath got stuck in your throat when you heard his words. What your master had said wasn't a lie, you were indeed pure and untouched, and you were terrified of what Hvitserk would do with that information, or worse if he didn't believe those words and treated you as a commonly experienced slave.

Hvitserk started walking and you just stood there staring at your, now almost black, hands. He turned around and looked at you signaling for you to follow him, and just as you approached him he took out a knife making you yelp and drop on your knees begging for mercy.

"Please, master don't hurt me" you cried "I'll be good, I promise" you finished sobbing, waiting for him to hit you or stab you.

"I won't hurt you" Hvitserk assured and reached to cut the rope that was tied around your wrists, allowing the blood to flow in that particular area "I promise you, I will never hurt you on purpose" he took a hold of both hands and kissed the insides of your wrists softly.

You looked up at him in awe and quietly stood up and followed him after he got up himself and started walking towards the great hall. Once you got inside he walked to his room without looking at anyone, and once there he told you to sit in the bed.

"This is my room and where you are sitting is my bed" he explained "Your duties are simple, you wake up, get ready, wake me up, braid my hair and go to breakfast with me, you sit on my lap and feed me and you can eat in between bites too" he paused, waiting for you to show him you understood.

"Yes, master”

"You will go with me everywhere and you will not look at or talk to anyone but me, every meal I have you will feed it to me and I will always allow you to eat from my plate" he insisted watching you nod to his words "every night I expect you to lay with me, for the first couple of nights I don't intend on using your body for my pleasure, instead I wish to use you mainly for the company" you let out a breath you had been holding since he told you you had to warm his bed "You are mine and only mine, not even the queen can take you away from me, and I hope I am clear when I tell you that you cannot even glance at another man's direction, am I clear?"

"Yes master, I'm completely yours from now on"

"Call me Hvitserk, master creeps me out" he fake shivered to amuse you and got a small giggle which made him smile.

That night you sat on Hvitserk's lap, just like he had ordered, feeding him every course from soup to ale and he allowed you to eat from his plate in between bites, just like he promised. His brothers tried to ignore your presence and act as if you were just another slave, but you weren't. Normally the one who bought slaves was their mother, Hvitserk was the first one to buy a slave for himself, and they were all attracted to your odd presence.

"Who is the beauty sitting in your lap, Hvitserk?" inquired Ivar.

"She is my slave, brother" Hvitserk stated simply.

"And who said you could have your own slave?" demanded Sigurd with a frown.

"I bought her with my own money, earned by fishing and hunting" he stated proudly squeezing your waist a little and taking the piece of meat you offered.

"And are you planning to share her anytime soon?" asked Ubbe curious lifting a brow and hiding his smirk behind his cup, clearly noticing the way you tensed.

"No" Hvitserk deadpanned "she is mine" he finished feeling you relax on his lap and continue cutting some meat for him.

After that the table got silent and everyone finished their meals in silence, no brother dared to look at Hvitserk and much less at you. After everyone finished each one went to their respective rooms without anything more than a 'goodbye' to their mother and Hvitserk waited until they left before getting up and leading you to his room. Once in his room, Hvitserk started taking his clothes off and as he sat on the bed he heard water being poured into his bathtub.

"What are you doing?" he asked turning to look at you emptying a pot of warm water into the tub.

"I'm preparing your bath, mast-Hvitserk" you quickly corrected yourself, fearing his reaction at the dreaded word "You can relax and get cleaned while I undo your braids" you suggested with a hopeful look, you truly appreciated being treated well and wanted to show him how grateful you were for his lack of mistreatings.

He nodded from his spot and watched you as you continued pouring pots of warm water into his tub until it was almost full. You announced the bath was ready and stood with your back turned to him as a sign of respect while he finished undressing. After that he got in the bath, hissing as he felt the warm water colliding with his cold skin.

"Is it too hot?" You asked concerned.

"It is perfect" he mumbled sleepily.

You smiled a little as you watched him resting his head on the edge of the tub with his eyes closed. Quietly, you walked around the tub until you stood by the back of his head where you started unbraiding his hair with soft brushes of your fingers, hearing him sigh and moan every now and then.

"After this bath, we are going to sleep" he announced in a low voice "Your gown is over there" without opening his eyes he pointed towards the bed where you could see some white fabric folded next to the pillow.

When you were both changed and ready to bed he laid down and patted the spot next to him, you laid on your back not knowing how he wanted you to position yourself. You heard him chuckle before and yelped when you felt his arms wrapping around your shoulders and with a quick pull he had your head laying on his chest.

"You are here to comfort me, not lay there as stiff as a tree" his chest vibrated with his laugh.

"Sorry" you mumbled, sleep evident in your voice.

You both remained silent and in a matter of minutes, he felt your soft breaths caressing his skin. He knew you were there just because he had bought you, but for a sweet tiny moment, he convinced himself that the girl in his arms was not a slave, but his lover who was there out of adoration for him and only him. His own beautiful lover.

"Mine" he whispered kissing your forehead before finally slipping into a peaceful slumber.

-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘-‘

Hi! Thanks for reading!!!! I hope you enjoyed it and I’m thinking about making a part two so…let me know if you’d be interested on that.

[drakenology]

ˢᵗᵃʳ ᴮᵒʸ ⁻ ᴬᵗˢᵘᵐᵘ ᴹⁱʸᵃ

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: smut, drug use (weed), alcohol use, raw sex, spitting, inexperienced!reader, corruption?, atsumu is the weeknd, reader is a fan girl.

ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ: yo yo! so this is for the rolling loud event for my girl @loveatsutani. I love u bitch. I aint gon neva stop lovin you bitch. anyways, hope yall enjoy and make sure to check out the other participants!

w͟o͟r͟d͟ ͟c͟o͟u͟n͟t͟:͟ ͟1͟.͟8͟k͟

Atsumu aka Tsumu was an icon in his own right and the self proclaimed “Star Boy” made sure to show it off. Fame cost him a lot though. Personal space was limited and privacy was a luxury. It was also hard to find a genuine woman who didn’t only like him for his money and fame. Atsumu knew these things would come when he pursued his newest passion in music, but the screaming and adoring fans were all worth the trouble.

Tonight was the night he headlined for Rolling Loud, performing as well as he usually did - and looking good doing it too. Singing was a talent he never knew he had until one day he just sat with some friends, smoked some pot and just belted out some R&B. People compare his music to that of The Weeknd which gained him a plethora of female fans. He watched from the stage as thousands of women flash their breasts, throwing their bras onto the stage. He’s such a tease he lifts his shirt up to flash them his abs, listening to them scream louder as he finishes his song.

“Thanks so much. Yer all amazin’.” Atsumu huffed, out of breath and sweaty from jumping around on stage singing and rapping all night. He waves goodbye to his fans, scooping a few bras off the ground and running back stage to get ready for his after party. One thing Mr. Miya Atsumu was an expert in was throwing an absolute rager of a party. There was always weed to smoke, drinks flowing and gorgeous girls ready to hand him their panties. With his security in tow, He waves goodbye to the fans waiting in line to get inside as he leaves the venue, even signing a few breasts on the way. “Star Boy.” was always his signature.

Atsumu’s house was jumping as the loud music bumped against the walls from the vibrations of the bass. Everybody was having a great time, including him as he downed another shot of vodka.

He stood cooly against the wall when you walked in with a group of friends of yours all dressed to be fucked stupid somewhere in his house. You especially caught his attention with those tits of yours practically jumping out of your dress as you exclaim excitedly about being in the Tsumu’s house.

You and your friends start dancing to the music, grinding on each other and shaking your asses much to Atsumu’s amusement. His eyes wandered across your body as you danced, locking onto your hips as they swayed to the beat of the music.

You’re enchanting to him as your hands travel up and down your body, caressing your hips and grabbing your friends’ asses to hype them up as they twerked. His mind began to imagine your plush thighs wrapped around his waist, imagining the way you’d look under him as your tits jumped with every harsh thrust he delivered. He wanted to hear you moan his stage name as his tongue delved deep into your sweet little cunt, to feel your thighs squish against his face as you cum on his mouth. That’s it, he’s going to approach you.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He slurred, feeling a little saucy from the alcohol he earlier consumed as he leaned into your ear. You immediately turn around to see Tsumu towering over you, smirking as you continue to dance.

“Oh my god! Hi! I’m such a big fan!” You squeal excitedly, only further stroking Atsumu’s ego hearing your sweet voice pitch in excitement over just the sight of him.

“Are ya? Wanna show me just how big of a fan ya are?” He asks, his hands on the small of your back to lead you away from the crowd. Maybe this was why he couldn’t meet genuine women to spend his riches and his time on. But tonight - with the way you look, he could care less about settling down right now.

You of course agreed to go to his room with him, waving to your friends as they raised their glasses in celebration of you bedding Tsumu of all people in this party. His lips meet yours as soon as you reach his bedroom door, moaning into your mouth as he opens it to lead you to the bed without breaking the kiss.

His hands lift up your dress to get a good look at your curves, running them up and down your hips and thighs before spreading them. With his breath hitching in his throat, he groans at the wet spot on your pretty little panties.

“Someone’s excited.” Atsumu teased, running his thumb over your covered clit. Your hips buck a bit from the feeling, gasping as his thumb moves in circles.

“Tsumu, I-I have to tell you somethin’.” You moan, locking your hazy eyes onto his. His eyebrow raised as he peeled your panties off your soaked pussy, licking his lips when he sees your slick pull from it as it sticks to the fabric.

“Hm?” He questioned, collecting your slick with his fingers.

“I um.. I don’t really have much experience. ‘M not a virgin but I’ve only had sex maybe twice in my life.” You admit, feeling your cheeks get hot when he starts to chuckle. God, that only made his cock grow harder. It was hard to believe someone as hot as you didn’t have very much sex but the possibility of becoming the best you’ve ever had was an accomplishment he needed under his belt. He was definitely about to teach you a thing or two.

“Don’t worry, love. ‘M gonna take good fuckin’ care of ya.” He smirked, laying in front of you to rest his head between your nervous thighs. He didn’t want to wait another second to taste you, his tongue parting your sopping wet folds with a soft groan. Your hands find their way into his dyed hair, mewling softly when you feel his tongue gliding against spots that have never been touched.

You gasp sharply when his tongue sinks inside you, your eyes rolling back when he slurps and laps up your juices hungrily. You feel your hips grinding against his face, Atsumu laughing against your skin at your eagerness. He doesn’t keep you still, instead he follows your movements with his tongue. He pulls away to spit on your already sloppy cunt, diving back in without a second to brace.

“T-Tsumu!” You shriek, his ears seeming to perk when he hears his name leave your pretty mouth. He pulls away just to hear you whine, watching as your pussy flutters around nothing.

“Anyone ever tell ya how pretty yer little pussy is, baby?” He asks, licking your slick off his lips before crawling up your body to kiss you. You shake your head no, which wasn’t a lie.

His hands go to take off his jeans, feeling your hands excitedly run up and down those famous abs of his. He takes your wrists and pins you down, pulling your dress down to expose your bare breasts. No bra? God. Immediately he’s leaving hickies all over your skin, nipping and sucking at your nipples before gliding his tongue over your hardened nipples.

“‘M making you feel good, yeah?” He asks, wanting to hear you say it from your mouth being that he already knew the answer. You nod.

“Uh-huh. N-No one’s ever made me feel like this before.” You say as he pulls you closer to his groin by your hips. He takes his hefty cock out, your eyes watching it twitch and leak with pre-cum as you absentmindedly lick your lips.

He prods your weeping hole with the fat tip of him, rubbing the underside of his cock against your pussy. Your hips grind, trying to get him to slide inside you as your plump lips form an impatient pout. This time he doesn’t reward your eagerness, instead holding your hips down and continuing to tease you with his dick.

“I’ll give it to ya if ya ask nicely, sweet heart.” Atsumu says smirking, causing you to whine.

“Please, Tsumu. Fuck me. I wanna feel you. Please, Tsumu, please.” You plead, your eyes going doe-like as your lashes flutter.

With those magic words you feel him split you open, a long drawn out mewl leaving your lips as you feel him bottom out immediately. He waits for you to adjust, sliding in and out of you slowly to get your tight cunt to adjust to the size of him. He knows he’s big, but you’re already taking him so well he can’t help but to speed up to form the shape of his cock into your pussy.

You can’t help but scream and rake your manicured nails into his back, feeling your gelatinous thighs quake as you try and hold them open. His palms press your thighs into your chest, his full balls smacking against your ass as he starts to fuck you into the bed. You can’t even control your sounds, knowing that if it weren’t for the bumping music downstairs the whole party would be able to hear your desperate cries.

“M-More Tsumu. H-Harder!” You beg, trying not to let your moans muddle your sentence as he does what you ask. You were quite possibly the best pussy he’s fucked in a long time. Even though he’s had sex with many beautiful women around the world, none of them felt as warm and inviting as you did.

Your cunt practically swallowed him whole, his eyes glued onto the way your walls tried to pull him back inside when he pulled away. He smacked your outer thigh and told you to bend over for him, groaning when you do so so urgently. You were so eager to please, he even contemplated keeping you around.

“Such a sexy little body, baby. Look at this ass.” He said, his big hands grabbing and smacking the fat of it. His cock twitched at the way it jiggles in ripples, sliding it inside you to see it smack against his lap. You feel him hit new angles, new spots, feeling yourself hanging on by a thin thread.

His heavy balls smack against your throbbing clit with each rut of his hips, yelping when he smacks your ass every so often. Your cries get louder when you feel him hitting the soft spongy spot that’s never been touched by any man. Your cunt squeezes him tight, without warning cumming around him as your eyes well up with pleasurable tears.

“Uuhhh fuck, angel. Yer so fuckin’ tight. Gonna make me cum.” He groaned, spitting down onto hs cock to make his length slicker. You hear him hissing and cussing, his thrusts stuttering until you feel him push deep inside you to cum in thick and sticky ropes. You moan at the warm and wet sensation, humming when he fucks his cum inside you deep. The feeling in your chest was unmistakable when he pulled out of you, unfortunately feeling yourself develop feelings for the super star you just fucked - a curse that came with the female orgasm. But Tsumu was a Star Boy and couldn’t be held down.

Or could he?

[volleychumps]

Hi hi hi! I just recently came across your blog and I’m loving it!!! Maybe an Akaashi, Bokuto, Kuroo, and Kageyama scenario where their S/O is a cheerleader and gets jealous when their team can’t take their eyes off them maybe?

Thank you for the request!! Oh, and btw you guys, I’m trying to do my requests in the order I get them and I usually have enough energy to do maybe one a day, two at most:(

Also, I switched up the character selection a bit so we could get more of the teams! Hope that’s okay!

Jealous Boys with a S/O who’s a cheerleader (w/ Akaashi, Kuroo, Kageyama, and Iwaizumi) 

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

Akaashi

“You’re cheering for us today?” 

“Yep! It’s my first time at one of your matches, I’m so excited!” You grin at your boyfriend, shaking your pom poms brightly as Akaashi bites back a smile, allowing you to plant a kiss on his cheek lovingly before moving to run back to your girls. 

“Good luck!” 

“You too.” 

“Y/N, you have to take your jacket off!” 

“Oh shoot, yeah oops.”

Akaashi stalls, glancing back as he heard that conversation. His eyes widen when you unzip your team jacket, revealing your cheer uniform. Your uniform hugged your breasts appreciatively, and it wasn’t good that he found it hard to breathe when he saw the length of your skirt. 

Who? Just who makes skirts that short? He thinks irritably before you suddenly turn to him to catch him staring. He gulps when you wink flirtatiously, blushing when your friends seem to make a comment about him to you as you wave them off, making a motion like yeah, that’s my boyfriend. 

Akaashi shakes his head. Cheer is what you do, who was he to make a comment at the...choice of attire? 

Clearing his head, he jogs back to his team, ready to warm up to play his best in front of you until he hears Konoha whistle appreciatively along with Komi, obviously eyeing up the cheerleaders. 

Akaashi blinks. It was fine, right? There were like, eight of you, they wouldn’t single-

“Bro, that (H/C) one though? Damn, she’s something else.” Komi blushes as Bokuto suddenly sweat drops.

“Thank god for mini skirts, looks like we’ll have a pretty nice view for when we play.” 

“Konoha, you’re such a perv.” 

“Sarukui, you just don’t know the ways of the cheerleader, observe the (h/c) one for instance, see her thighs? I would kill-” 

“Uh Konoha, I think you should stop-” 

“What, Bokuto? Aren’t you the one who’s into this kinda stuff too?” 

“No, but I am.” 

The whole team pause, glancing over at the quiet setter who had his brows furrowed in an obvious expression of distaste, blue-green eyes seeming to blaze directly into his teammates as Konoha quirks an eyebrow playfully, drawing up to the setter before Bokuto could stop him. 

“Huh? You too Akaashi? Which one’s the cutest to you, huh? Tell us~” 

Bokuto palms his face at the situation Konoha was digging himself in, deciding it was a lost cause before Akaashi scoffs, his lips pulling up in a slight snarl as he pretends to think. 

“Hm. That’s a tough one.” 

The Fukurodani team all exchange inquisitive looks with one another when Akaashi’s feet suddenly bring him to your position in front of the stands, bouncing up and down with your other cheer friends. Your eyes brighten when they see Akaashi, breaking out of the practice formation to jog up to him. 

“What’s up, love? Don’t you play soon?”  Akaashi puts both hands on the sides of your face and tilts your jaw upwards, his lips falling gently on yours before moving at a pace that was strangely possessive as your cheeks begin to burn. You knock on his chest with your fist as Akaashi kisses you harder, only letting you go when your breaths turn unsteady. 

 He had done that. In front of both your teams. 

Your boyfriend pulls back, blue-green eyes seeming to blaze as he swipes his thumb at the lipstick stain he had left, ensuring it was off before nodding once to you and beginning to walk away. 

“A-Akaashi-you-what-why-” 

“That one on the cheek earlier wasn’t enough luck.” Akaashi shrugs to you as he walks back to his gaping team, clasping Konoha on the shoulder as he swipes at the slight amount of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. 

“I don’t know, I think that one’s pretty cute.” 

“Akaashi, I didn’t know-” 

“Well, it’s a good thing you do now.” 

The Fukurodani team all shiver once in unison. Akaashi, the usual calmest member on the team, seemed the most dangerous when pissed off. 

Kuroo

“Good luck today, kitten. Try to cheer for me only, okay?” 

“You’re the one doing the hard stuff.” You grin up at your boyfriend as Kuroo smirks down at you, leaning to press a quick kiss on your forehead lovingly before pinching one of your cheeks, causing you to pout. 

“You’re really pretty, you know that?”

“Go! You start soon, dummy!” You blush, pushing your boyfriend forcefully away when his team enters the gym, running away from your boyfriend’s smirking figure in slight embarassment that his team almost caught the two of you like that. 

Kuroo strides up to his team, hands clasped around his neck before taking a seat on the bench as Kai and Yaku begin to go through the plays, not noticing the way Lev and Inuoka both shared small gasps. 

“Whoaaa, so we actually do have cheerleaders?” 

“H-How am I supposed to focus?” 

“Lev, just focus on the game.” 

“That (H/C) one is the prettiest!” 

Kuroo quirks an eyebrow, diverting his gaze. That caught his attention. 

“Uh, Lev, I wouldn’t-” 

Kuroo covers Kenma’s mouth, a sly grin making its’ way onto his face as Yaku and Kai both exchange looks knowingly. Before either of the third years can stop their team captain-

“Oh? What’s so pretty about her?” 

“S-She’s on par with Karasuno’s manager.” Yamamoto stutters slightly as Kenma shoves off Kuroo’s hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Someone like that goes to our school?” 

“Ne, Inuoka, do you think if I play good enough she’ll notice me?” 

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, Lev!” 

“Yep, it wouldn’t hurt to try.” Kuroo’s tone seemed to turn slightly sardonic, his grin never leaving his face as Kenma rolls his eyes, turning away from the situation to pull his phone out and shoot a quick text. 

Y/N-san, please come over here before Kuroo kills one of my teammates.

Huh?

Just please come. 

You blink, making sure to note how much time you had left before you had to be in formation before beginning to walk over to where Kenma was, noticing that your boyfriend had his chin resting in his hand, his signature smirk resting on his lips as he listened to whatever his teammate was saying. 

“Shoot! Shoot, I think she caught me staring!” Lev looks down quickly after seeing your approaching figure, pom poms hanging loosely by your side as Inuoka clasps his shoulder. 

“Lev, you should talk to her!” 

“Yeah, Lev.” Kuroo grins as you come closer, Kenma sweatdropping at the fact that him asking you to come over wouldn’t bring understanding. “You should talk to her.” 

“Uh, Kuroo?” You tap your boyfriend’s shoulder nervously, trying not to make direct eye contact with any of the staring team. You shift uncomfortably as your boyfriend glances up at you, eyes playful yet kind of annoyed. 

In the next moment, Kuroo had pulled you into his lap, leaving his teamates (The ones that didn’t know already) with their jaws agape you yelp and try to break free. 

“Babe, I came over here because Kenma said you might kill someone!” 

“It’s a good thing he did.” Kuroo nuzzles his face into your neck, opening one eye posessively as the first and second years begin to stutter out apologies. His hands trace over your bare thighs as you flush, hiding your face with both hands. 

“Everyone, meet (Y/N). My totally pretty cheerleader girlfriend who just so happens to be on par with Karasuno’s manager.” 

“Knock it off.” You force yourself out of his hold as Kuroo pulls you back down to kiss your forehead quickly, putting the cherry on top of the situation before you dash back to your own team in embarrassment. 

“Kuroo-senpai, I-” 

“It’s alright, Lev!” Kuroo smiles a little too nicely at the first year’s stuttered apology. 

“Just make every single receive and we’ll call it even.” 

“W-what if I don’t?” 

“You better hope you do.” 

Kageyama

“Look, I won’t embarass you, so just focus on your setting, okay?” You smile up in reassurance at Kageyama’s blushing figure, his blue eyes struggling to stay on your face because of your cheer uniform. He thought you looked amazing of course, but- 

“T-this is just the first time you’ve been at one of my matches-” 

“And I’m sure you’ll do great. So don’t overthink it, alright?” 

Kageyama’s eyes lock with yours before he nods once, turning around in a stiff posture away from your giggling self at how cute your boyfriend was. The dark haired boy jogs back to his team, all of whom had hardly realized the quiet setter’s disappearance. 

“Where’d you go, Kageyama?” 

“None of your business, boke.” 

“The cheerleaders are here to cheer for us! Noya-san, which lucky one shall we make fall today?” 

“You haven’t made any of them fall-” 

“That’s what you think, Suga-san.”

“Have you...ever seen her go to our school before?” Noya stares in awe, pointing directly at you shamelessly as Tanaka rests his elbow on Noya’s head for support, the same expression on his features as you giggle and jump with the rest of your team-

skirt flying high and all. 

Kageyama doesn’t look up, sipping from his water bottle as the comedic duo nearby him ogle the cheerleaders, noting it was just their nature before- 

“I think her name’s (Y/N)? She’s a first year.” 

“Are first years allowed to look that cute?” 

Kageyama’s grip on his water bottle tightens as Daichi gives them his signature stern glare, pushing the two towards the center of the gym. 

“If you have time to drool, you have time to warm up.” 

“W-wait, just let us try to talk to her-!” 

“Oi, Kageyama, we’re about to start, where are you going?” 

The blue-eyed boy had abandoned the clenched water bottle on the bench behind him, walking up to your giggling form with the most confidence he had ever mustered. 

“Kageyama!” You smile brightly, waving your friends to keep practicing without you before slow jogging up to your boyfriend. “Did you need some-?” 

The expression in the usually awkward’s boy was foreign to you as he spins you around by the shoulders so your back is facing him, pulling your hair out of your tight ponytail. You blink as his fingers run through your hair, gathering it all up to put it up again.

“What-?” 

“I didn’t mention it earlier, but it’s messy.” 

“I could’ve-!” 

“It’s fine.” Kageyama cuts you off, slipping your hair through the tie perfectly as you touch your hair for good measure, turning your head to smile sweetly in thanks. 

“This is new. But I like it. I like it a lot.” You say a bit shyly, looking down at your pom poms before Kageyama suddenly embraces you from behind, hugging your back into his chest as you flush at the strange affection he rarely showed. It only lasted a mere few seconds, and you laugh at how red his cheeks had turned, not being able to resist placing a kiss on the side of his jaw. 

What you didn’t know, was that you were just adding on to the show that Kageyama was putting on for his team, staking his claim. As you waved him off, cheeks pinkened from the foreign actions, you then notice the slacked jaws of the Karasuno team. Hesitantly, you offer an awkward wave as most of them awkwardly wave back. 

“Kageyama, you could’ve just said that she was-” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Iwaizumi

“Since when do the cheerleaders come to the volleyball games?” 

“Since today, apparently.” You cheekily grin at your ace boyfriend, Iwaizumi rolling his eyes in turn as you pout. “What, are you not happy I’m here?” 

“No...I just don’t want to get um, distracted.” 

You blink, glancing down at your cheer attire before smirking slightly. “Oh? And what would get you distracted?” 

“Cheeky brat.” Iwaizumi mumbles in slight irritation, ears reddened as he pinches your cheek, causing you to whine. “The other fools in the stands might look at you.” 

“Wow, babe. I’m suddenly glad you don’t come to watch me cheer.” 

“What-?”

“Nothing!” You chirp, pulling Iwaizumi’s collar down to meet your lips quickly as you take off running before he can scold you, leaving the third-year a blushing mess at the hands of a first-year. Scowling, he turns back as his team joins him in the gym, pumped for the next set. 

“Oho, is the reason I think you went before us the correct one?” Oikawa’s smirk is infuriating and knowing, Iwa shoving him in his shoulder with his own. 

“Shut it, you piece of trash.” Iwa warns, beginning to stretch his legs before he pauses, seeing you take off your jacket from across the court along with your other teammates, feeling his breathing hitch. 

Damn did you look good in uniform. 

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought that. Oikawa’s low whistle from next to him was enough for Iwa to “accidentally” throw his water bottle over his shoulder, feeling satisfied with the sound of pain that came from his best friend. 

“Hah, I’m so nervous...” 

“Is it because of the cheerleaders, Kindaichi?” Kunimi sighs, wrapping his fingers as Kindaichi scratches the back of his neck, cheeks flushed.

“W-well, yeah...plus (Y/N) from our class is part of it.” 

Iwaizumi stalls. 

“Yeah. I get it. It’s totally different seeing her in uniform.” Kunimi shrugs, not looking up from his taped fingers. Iwa feels an emotion he can’t describe rise in his chest, the breaths through his nose starting to become ones to control his breathing. 

“Whoaaa, lemme see!” Yahaba pushes Watari’s head down, smirking slightly as his eyes trace shamelessly over your exposed skin from a distance. “She’s a first year? Damn Kindaichi, have you made your move yet?” 

“W-WHat? I don’t like her, I heard she’s dating a senior! It’s just new seeing her so...” 

“Exposed?” Kunimi offers, still not noticing the amused team captain and deadly aura their ace was giving off as Kindaichi nods brightly to his friend.

“Yeah! That.” 

Hanamaki and Mattsun both take careful steps in front of the first years, being sure that they’re blocking the view from the now pissed-off ace. 

“Now, Now Iwa...” 

“We need them for when we leave, please don’t hurt them.” 

“Uh...senpai? Why-?” 

The humorless chuckle that slips Iwa’s lips is able to silence the whole team, sending shivers down the underclassmen’s backs as Kyotani watches on, indifferent.  

“You wanted to know why, right Yahaba?” 

“U-um..yes?” The last part comes out as a squeak as Iwa’s suddenly lifting himself out of stretching position and walking up to you, fire on his heels. You yelp when Iwaizumi’s strong grip clasps on your forearm, careful not to hurt you but still being a tad forceful about it as he pulls you away from your now confused team. 

“Iwa?” You blink as Iwa jerks his jacket off his body in hasty movements, dark eyes brimmed with a possessive kind of feeling as he wraps it around your upper body, not even letting your arms through the holes as the sleeves hang loosely at your side. 

As he’s zipping it up, his dark eyes are stare into yours with an intensity that made you gulp.  “I’m suddenly glad I’ve never come to see you cheer.” He grits out, fingers lifting your chin upwards so he could capture your lips aggressively, leaving your breathing unsteady when he pulls back, a bit of your lipstick on the corner of his mouth as he smirks slightly at your dazed features. 

“Good. Now they know.” 

You blink, still in a daze as you adjust Iwa’s jacket so that you could wear it with the sleeves, turning back to your shocked team with widened eyes. To your dismay, they were all giggling and motioning you back into the circle to tell them what had just occurred, your friends already fixing your lipstick for you as you try to hide your face in embarrassment. 

Oikawa’s amused grin for once, doesn’t piss off the ace as Iwa goes back to stretching as if nothing had happened. “Iwa, you’ve got a little something-” 

“Leave it.” Iwa doesn’t look up from his legs, his tone taking on a chilling one as he taps the lipstick mark on the corner of his lips once. The underclassmen all share a shiver as Iwa lifts his head, dark eyes spinning with triumphant rage as Hanamaki and Mattsun sigh. 

“Just in case they forget.” 

[smutggukk]

Your heart starts beating so quick that it actually might jump out your chest, i have no idea why I even gave him attitude.

Was it because I know I’m gonna get a punishment, maybe because I really am craving for his touches and kisses, I want him to ruin me but i didn’t know how to tell him, well I definitely know now.

You reread the messages, you can’t help but to chuckle, I really sent a nude? He won’t know know I sent it on purpose anyways, right?

As funny as it sounds, you really were hoping he’d give you a punishment, it’s been almost a month since we’ve had s*x and I honestly don’t know how we survived.

‘I want you naked on the bed’ you read his message, might as well listen to him, I’d rather be on his good side.

You strip and lay on your stomach, the soft white sheets feeling so comfy. You suddenly remember the way he touches and kisses you, how he always makes sure I get pleasured, the thoughts of him making you squeeze your thighs together.

You can’t wait any longer, you just want him on top of you, thrusting into you, ruining your insides, you close your eyes feeling way too needy.

You hear a door slam close and flinch, he’s here. You hear his footsteps walking upstairs and feel shit scared.

You gulp and close your eyes a little hearing the door open, you feel his eyes checking you out, eye f*cking you. You slowly flutter your eyes open and immediately regret it, leaning against the closed door he stares at you with an unreadable look.

Is he angry? He can’t be, I only sent a nude... and gave him attitude, which I shouldn’t have but i can’t do anything about it now.

He starts walking towards you, you mentally curse at yourself for being really stupid. You look away from him, finding his gaze too intimidating.

“Sit up” you follow his order and sit up, still looking away from him. “Look at me” you look up at him and notice his slightly messy hair.

He leans closer to you so your faces are inches apart, he grabs your chin still looking into your eyes, “now, I want you to be completely honest with me, no lies” his eyes now locked on your lips, while his thumb caresses it.

You obediently nod “did you send that nude on purpose?” He asks you

Shit, should I lie? I probably shouldn’t but he won’t know it’s a lie anyway

“no..” you mumble quietly, your lips form a small small pout, you don’t dare to look at him knowing he would find out I’m lying.

“look at me.” he says sternly and this time a little angry, you look at him feeling vulnerable under his strong gaze.

“Again, did you send that nude on purpose?” You shake your head, unable to form words, he’s damn scary right now.

He chuckles and looks away, “use your words” he stops laughing, does he find this funny? You feel a little angry. “No I didn’t.” You say with a little attitude, which you instantly regret.

His hand which was placed on your chin wraps around your neck swiftly, “don’t f*cking give me attitude” his glare sends daggers at you making you feel helpless.

“S-sorry” you close your eyes and try gulping but his hold on you is blocking it.

“You better be” he lets go of your neck, you exhale deeply, you didn’t know you were holding a breath till now.

He stands back up and placed his hands on his pockets looking at you, you carefully look up at him feeling his eyes on you, it seems like he’s thinking.. but thinking of what?

After about a minute of him thinking he finally crouches down to your level, he looks pissed as hell, did I do something wrong?

“Wanna know something?” You decide to not question him and nod “yeah sure..” you say in a quiet voice “when you sent the nude, I had a meeting a few minutes later”

Shit, how did you forget, he told you yesterday that he had an important meeting, crap you messed up big time.

“I- uh..erm..” you avoid his glare which he notices, “I had to reschedule it last minute..” “I-I’m sorry I forg-“ “shut up, did I tell you that you can talk?” He grits his teeth and pokes his tongue on his cheek. (Why am I laughing? 🏃‍♀️😭)

“Unbuckle my belt now” you raise your hands and grip his leather belt, you unbuckle his belt and don’t dare to do anything else unless he tells me to.

“Go on” he motions for you to continue, you carefully unbutton his jeans and pull it down, along with his boxers, your thighs stick to eachother feeling wet down there.

He notices it and decides to tease you, he removes his upper clothing so he’s completely naked along with you.

He crouches down to your thigh area, so his face is positioned exactly where your pussy is, you feel his fingers travel up your thigh and spread them apart, you hold in your breath feeling even more wet.

His finger swipe across your clit and you let out a quiet gasp, he smirks and licks his finger clean, “so damn wet for me huh?” You look away feeling a little embarrassed.

“Answer me” “y-yes” “yes what?” “Erm.. master..yes master” you say in a hushed tone, “good now spread your legs wide for me” you don’t resist and spread your legs, “perfect” he whispers against your clit making you squirm a little.

He starts teasing you by swiping his tongue against your coochie (💀), you whine feeling impatient wanting him to just suck you clean, “m-master please..” you whisper, “keep begging” He says, you obey him not caring about anything but him.

“Please, just eat me out master..” he smirks and nods “hm.. enjoy” he flicks his tongue against your clit making your body jolt up in pleasure, he does that a few more times before he finally enters his tongue in you and starts sucking all your juices making you close your eyes and throw your head back enjoying it.

“Ahh.. I’m cumming” you moan out, but before you can cum he pulls away making you gasp “no why did you stop?” You whine, “you don’t tell me what to do and what not to do” he says in a cold stern voice making you shut your mouth completely.

You look down not wanting to look at him, “this is supposed to be a punishment remember that” you almost shit yourself at his cold voice, he stands up. “yes master” you mumble, “great now get on your knees”

You nod and do what he says, you’re faced with his thick cock that is leaking precum, your mouth waters at the sight, can he just f*ck me?

“open your mouth wide” as soon as you he immediately thrusts his cock into your mouth making you gag, he moans out and keeps thrusting into your mouth, your tongue wraps around his length and starts sucking, he grunts out “oh yeah.. suck harder you sl*t” you do as he says, he thrusts a couple more times feeling close, you feel him twitch in your mouth, knowing he’s close you raise your hands and start rubbing his length.

“Shit I’m cumming” he says before cumming a full whole load in your mouth, some even landing on your chin and chest, he pulls out and breathes heavily, he eyes your body feeling hard again, “f*ck, let’s go to the bed” he carries u to the bed while making out, at this point all he wants now is to just f*ck you hard.

He lays you down on the sheets and pull away from the kiss, he grips your thighs and spreads them open, he leans closer to you, and bites onto your earlobe, you feel his cock rub against your pussy and let out an airy moan, “no cumming until I say so, understand?”

Oh no, anything but this, you know for sure that you won’t be able to hold in your cum, shit your f*cked for sure. “But master-“ you get cut off when he slams his fingers into you deep. “I didn’t give you a f*cking choice” he glares you making you nod immediately “yes master..” you mumble.

you close your eyes feeling him move his fingers in you, he increases his pace making you moan in pleasure, feeling ecstatic.

“Oh yeah..” you moan out, “you’re enjoying this huh?” “Y-yes I am master, ahh.. go faster” you arch your back feeling close, he pulls out and smirks, you heave a sigh in irritation but quietly not wanting to make him angry.

“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this, so I’m gonna have to make this harder..” he opens the drawer and grabs a handcuff making you gulp for the thousandth time.

He raises your hands above your head and cuffs them to the headboard, he smirks feeling dominant, “now you know the rules, right?” You nod “yes master.. I do” “good girl, can you tell me the rules?” “Rule 1 don’t disrespect master, rule 2 no cumming until master says so, rule 3.. um ..” you curse mentally, how did I forget rule 3, shit.

“Go on” “I- um.. forgot master..” you mumble feeling your heart about to burst out of your chest, he stares at you for a few seconds before he sighs opening the drawer again and grabs a blindfold “rule 3 is to not let out a sound unless master allows you to” “I’m sorry master..” you mutter.

“That’s alright princess but I’m gonna need to teach you a lesson for forgetting rule 3, now.. do you remember rule 4?” You nod “rule 4 is to never touch myself unless master says so” “perfect, now I’m gonna blindfold you alright?” “But master I want to be able to see you..”

he slowly nods after a few seconds of silence “but you forgot rule 3 so no, you don’t have a choice. I want to hear you beg for me to remove the blindfold while I f*ck you hard” He says making you reply with a ‘yes master.’

He blindfolds you, making you suck in a deep breath as you heart beats rapidly, his hand trails from your thigh to your inner thigh making his knuckles rub against your entrance, you quietly gasp at the contact and unconsciously spread your legs, he smirks and starts leaving butterfly kisses on each thigh slowly creeping closer to your womanhood.

You whine impatient, “master..” you try moving your hands forgetting that it’s cuffed so it ends up clinking together, he gets up feeling so hard that the pain in unbearable, he swipes three fingers against your folds and kneads it on his cock making him let out a groan, he watches as your mouth hangs open and thighs massage together creating a wet sound, “f*ck”

He can’t hold back anymore, he grabs your thighs and spread them apart making you gasp as he thrusts in his d*ck, “ohhhh f*ck your so wet” He starts moving a little making sure your adjusted to his size, “master continue” you whine, he thrusts in once getting your confirmation.

He grunts and throws his head back, he lifts your legs and throws it over his shoulder, he grabs your hips and presses you into him making you both let out a moan of pleasure, “ughhh y-your making master feel so good baby..” he says breathlessly as he doesn’t stop pushing himself into you.

You hear his moans and groans making you even more wet for him, oh how bad you wanna remove this blindfold to see how he’s f*cking you, “m-master... please...” you while trying to catch your breath, “please what?” “Please.. t-take off m-my- OH F*CK MASTER” he hits your spot making you scream out, you hear him let out an airy chuckle “take off your?” He keeps hitting your g-spot making you lay there panting, he’s teasing you.

“Remove... my- ohhhh my god right there master.. oh I’m cumming!!” “No cumming until I say so you brat” he pulls out and thrusts back into you “oh m-my g-god.. master please.. I can’t..” you whisper the last part breathless.

“Save it” he says then flips you so your ass is sticking up, he thrusts back into you and hisses, “f*ck y-you’re so tight huh” you bite your lip the pleasure being so unbearable you might even squirt, “master pleasee!” You whine, not able to hold it any longer.

“Not yet” he growls and pushes in 3 fingers knuckles deep into your sensitive clit, “oh m-my god! I can’t h-hold it in!! Please m-master...” he smirks hearing you begging, “oh really? Well too f*cking bad” he says as he hits a pleasurable spot, “master!!! I’m cumming!! I’m f*cking cumming!! Please let me cum master!” He repeatedly hits your g-spot making you gasp, as you let out tears.

He notices it and decides to let you cum “let’s cum together” he counts down and together you cum together, as you squirt you emit a long exhale of relief, feeling sore all around you, you feel him pull out as you close your legs feeling both of your juices leak down your thigh, he unlocks the cuffs and throws them away along with the blindfold, he grabs your wrists and curses seeing the mark it left.

He quickly kisses your forehead and runs to grab a clean towel and wets it with water, and of course a healing cream. He walks back to you and looks at your exhausted figure, he moves the hair out of your face and sees your eyes closed, he quickly cleans you up and spreads the healing cream on both wrists, he lays in bed next to you and wraps the both of you in the warm cozy blanket, he cuddles you and rubs your back.

“Sorry if I went too hard on you baby, sleep well, I love you” “I love you too...” you mumble half asleep, he smiles and snuggles closer to u, “I love you more”

[themsource]

A Moment Of Time

Pairing: Sans x Frisk Rating: T Word Count: 2,673

Hey @catsitta I was your secret santa for @secretsantafrans! I love your Fated AU so please excuse any cannon inconsistences if I made any @_@  I had fun mixing holiday themes for this; Kronia and Haloa specifically! 

Hope you enjoy ^^

Lord Death’s realm; usually so quiet and haunting, was unusually loud with the cries of celebration and joy. Golden light bathed the immense hall, the fires and torches giving such a grand view of the heavily decorated scaffoldings and food laden tables casting a supernatural warmth supplied by none other than Lord Fyre, for the evening's festivities.

Rarely was there cause for such lavish displays of black marbled fountains overflowing with fine wine, even rarer a reason for heavenly grown ambrosia to grace such a place as the Underworld with it’s desolate landscape and often gloomy atmosphere, but this was a day rare in itself.

Today marked the winter solstice; the time of year that many a mortal and god alike abandoned their divisions and classes that usually separated them from others of lower status as a show of civility and gratitude for one another.

And Death the youngest favored the holiday, in fact he was its greatest fan and celebrated it every year. Which was a surprise to the Goddess Spring given her dear husband’s solitary nature and not so subtle irritation at large gatherings. Let it be said that Sans denied Papyrus very little, and let him want for nothing.

An admirable trait in her spouse.

“My lady are you not enjoying the wine?” Frisk blinked free of her thoughts and spared a glance at her goblet, sitting wholly untouched and turning bitter the longer she ignored it and allowed it to spoil. 

A longstanding tradition on this day was that women alone were allowed to drink of the spirits and indulge in the fresh aged fruits of the last harvest, a tradition she always enjoyed, but now served as nothing but a reminder of lost youth and unwanted vows.

Frisk was gradually coming to accept the chains that tied her to her husband, and deeply appreciated the way in which he treated her as not only an adult, but as a partner, an equal. However it did little to ease the sadness she felt at times such as these, reminding her of the choices she’d unwittingly made that hadn’t truly been choices at all.

This year she wouldn’t be dancing among the snow of the surface, nor would she sit gossiping with her mother and her wood nymphs about plans for future growth and vegetation. Where once she used to greet the time of year with enthusiasm and eagerness, now sat nothing but a rock hard pit in her stomach that even Ambrosia couldn’t fill.

She felt out of place, and just a little bit lonely.

“Forgive me, but my stomach is not quite right tonight.” She forced a smile, small and fragile, but still genuine as she looked to her handmaiden. “Tonight I am not your lady, we are as equals, did you forget?” 

Daisy smiled as she took the opportunity and reached down to take the neglected drink, boldly taking a sip from it before offering Frisk a warm smile. “No matter the time or day you will always be my lady. As long as you’ll have me.”

Frisk chuckled before looking out to the crowd, her golden eyes skimming the dancers supplied by Mother Night as she caught the sight of Lord Fyre in hushed whispers with a fair skinned and golden haired Underworld denizen. 

Vaguely she tried to recall all the fallen heroes she’d been told would be allowed to attend but no name came to mind, maybe they were a member of the Asphodel Meadows?

“I take it Iris and Hyacinth are enjoying themselves?” She asked absently just as her eyes spotted her husband standing beside the hearth speaking with his brother. 

As if he could feel her gaze like a touch he subtly shifted his fathomless sockets to meet her.

Quickly Frisk averted her eyes with a grimace, and not so quiet skip of her heart. How he could draw such a reaction from her when she could just barely tolerate his presence she’d never know, and even as she watched Daisy blush, her flames tinting a slight shade darker, she swore she could still feel him watching her. 

Sans’s gaze always unsettled her, just as much as it drew her in like a vortex.

“Iris is currently in the kitchens, and Hyacinth, is showing Lord Cadmus around.” The way Daisy said his name was enough to make Frisk stare at her in shock. Cadmus, the hero of letters, how fitting given Hyacinth’s nature. Though it was still the last thing she’d expected of the elemental.

“I see…” Even her handmaidens dreamed of love she supposed, something she’d never really given much thought to. Was that one of the reasons behind their constant push for her to get close to Sans? “Well I hope she enjoys herself.”

Daisy offered a timid grin. “Are you sure it’s only your stomach that ails you tonight?”

Frisk dismissed her worry with a shake of her head. “Don’t worry Daisy, go have fun, you fuss over me enough every day as is.” 

Reluctantly the young fiery girl nodded and did as Frisk suggested, but not without offering a backward glance that the goddess waved off with a teasing smile. Slowly she let her hand drop and went back to looking out over the crowd. 

She felt like such a stick in the mud, truly not an attitude befitting of a queen.

Gracefully as she could, and still doing her best to ignore San’s continuously lingering stare, she skirted the side of the hall and slipped away behind a gathered group of souls. She didn’t stop holding her breath or head high until she’d safely made it back to her room, where she finally let her shoulders sag and sighed from sudden exhaustion. 

Papyrus might not be too pleased at her absence, but it was better than sitting in place all night frowning and pouting like a child. Frisk had gone to such lengths to show her mother and the other gods she was worthy of her title, she refused to spoil it all in one evening. 

More than halfway across her room she froze, her eyes going wide in disbelief, as they caught on a small object resting in the center of her bed.

Had someone been in her room?

Frisk’s heart anxiously fluttered in her chest as she debated on returning to the party or taking another step further into her room. Never before now had she noticed just how thick the curtains were that adorned her windows, or just how dark the corners of her chamber were where the miniscule candle light didn’t reach. 

Cautiously she inched forward, the ichor in her veins pounding like a drum as she shakily reached for it with all the control of a quivering branch. 

It fit perfectly in her hand, its texture like that of smooth glass with a coolness that sent a chill up to her shoulder. He guard dropped as she slowly raised it to eye level and turned it this way and that. It looked like a flat and rounded piece of polished obsidian, with golden leaf decorating it’s edges in swirling floral designs. 

A mirror, designed to be easily concealed and for discrete use.

She frowned.

Honestly Frisk wasn’t one to fret over her appearance, she never had been, always preferring wild and tangled hair with robes slightly worn at the fringes from hours spent in the dirt or walking. The only ones that showed any care to her looks were her caretakers and, on a less comfortable note, her husband.

She turned it twice over, as if the name of the person who had left this would magically appear if she simply kept looking, and nearly dropped it as the surface brightened, turning white hot and blinding.

Just as quickly as it happened it dimmed, and in its place was an image, crystal clear  and moving. 

Frisk gasped as she recognized one of the flower fields in which she used to play, now blanketed in freshly fallen snow, the picture of her mother standing silent and stoic as she looked out over the winter landscape. 

It was a looking glass! A magical item so very rare that only three gods she knew of had one, and none of them this small or intricately decorated. Whoever this was from had obviously put a lot of considerable effort into having it made.

“does my lady wife like her gift?”

She hadn’t expected his presence with the celebrations currently going on, but honestly she should have. Sans always had the habit of suddenly appearing from around corners or showing up spontaneously. 

Frisk spun on her heel, her hand quickly darting up to brush away the tears beading in her eyes as they widened at seeing her husband standing just within the dark shadows of the doorway.

At this point in their relationship she’d grown accustomed to his comings and goings. The only thing she never understood behind the actions was if it was done simply because he liked to use his name and title as the lord of death to unnerve others and to demonstrate the power he held, or if it was merely a fleeting moment of whimsy for a cheap thrill. 

One thing that always irritated her to no end though, was that he enjoyed targeting her the most.

Such as now; with an embarrassed flush on her cheeks and a jolt of shame running down her spine as she struggled to hide the very emotion she so blatantly wore. Gifts between spouses was a tradition, but she hadn’t given any thought to it. She didn’t think for a moment her lord husband would be partial to the tradition.

Frisk should have known better given how their whole relationship had even started.

“I...am afraid I did not prepare anything for you in turn.” 

His gaze, always so penetrating and watchful, dropped from her face to the looking glass she clutched to her chest, not missing the subtle way her knuckles whitened as she subconsciously tightened her hold on it.

As if he’d try to steal it away from her.

Sans’s smile widened. “what more gift could a husband want than the company of his wife?”

Her face stung as it turned red, and her voice came out uncertain, higher in pitch, as she stared at him. “I trust you mean platonically?”

“I have the desires of any man, for his bride, and while i wouldn’t turn away such an offer...” 

She tensed as his sockets did a slow, calculated roll of her form before flickering back up to her face, the gesture causing her heart to skip for the second time that night. “in this instance my intentions are entirely innocent.” He chuckled.

Frisk watched as he held a hand out in offer, his phalanges slightly curling as if beckoning her to him with a still ever present grin. It would be so easy, in another time and place, for Frisk to have believed the innocence behind his smile. But he always wore it, when amused, irritated, and when being cruel as Death often had to be.

It made it so hard to understand him.

Casually she slipped the now darkened looking glass within her robes and tried her best to keep her expression unreadable as she placed her hand in his, the icy touch of his bones draining the warmth from her, but never able to steal it all completely.

The edges of his smile seemed to soften as he glanced down.

It did something to her to see that. He acted so touch starved, so easily awed every time they had the briefest of contact.

They both stood there in silence, his thumb slowly running circles into the back of her hand the longer he held it. She sucked in a breath at the shiver it sent up her spine but dared an uncertain look up at him.

“Are we not going somewhere?”

His subtle movement stopped but he didn’t look away from where they stayed joined.

“is there somewhere you wish to go?”

She didn’t respond, and he took that as an answer. He gave one more slow, deliberate, stroke of his thumb before finally releasing her. If Frisk didn’t know better she’d have thought she’d heard a small sigh from him.

And then she finally noticed the faint blush on his cheeks.

“...Sans?”

“hmm?”

“Have you been drinking?” 

He looked her in the eye as his grin hitched higher. “whatever gave that impression?”

Frisk narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, the faint blush darkening as she stared him down and cultivated one on her own cheeks. She hadn’t noticed just how cute his magic could sometimes manifest itself, just how it left a vague ethereal glow that bathed the inside of his normally obscure hood.

“Sans…only women are supposed to drink today.”

His sockets lidded. “from what i could see earlier in the night, you weren’t in the mood, and it would’ve been rude to waste wine provided by asgore himself.” 

She knew he was using a poor excuse, but it was enough of one it lit a flicker of embarrassment in her. Frisk stubbornly focused on one of the gold medallions that held up his cloak to avoid eye contact.

“You just wanted to drink.”

“can you fault me? it was my favorite after all.” She glared at his cheeky smirk. “pomegranate.” 

“...”

“...”

“...If only divorce was an option.”

Sans’s sockets widened and then he let out such a deep, bass heavy, laugh Frisk openly gawked at him. It took a moment for him to compose himself but once he had his voice was filled with mirth.

“sadly it isn’t. i would only welcome the challenge to make you mine yet again, if i could.”

She couldn’t think of a response to that, not one that wasn’t insulting at least, and really she didn’t feel like trying to argue with the thick skulled god before her, it would be pointless, Sans never backed down when it came to a play on words.

Silence stretched before he spoke again. 

“i should be getting back to the celebration, gillby wanted to talk to me regarding a trade of some sort.”

Frisk suddenly felt a pang that made her grimace. She hadn’t realized she’d actually been enjoying the company. Maybe it was because they rarely spoke, or maybe she was just that emotionally vulnerable tonight, but her words were hesitant and honest. 

“I understand...I enjoyed this. The casual conversation.”

Her husband tilted his head.

“i should be thanking you, this was just the break i needed from the crowd.”

Despite herself she chuckled. “Of course, why would I ever assume you asked for my company purely for it alone?” 

He went silent, the brim of his hood covering his sockets as his tone came out blunt. “if this wasn’t what i desired i wouldn’t have asked for this when you offered me a gift in turn.” 

How did he keep doing that? Slipping behind her walls so easily with honeyed words after repeatedly testing their strength with his indifference and often selfish actions? He barely ever tried but it was always enough to make her question her stance on him.

“You’d better hurry back, I don’t think Grillby will be sober enough to remember his reasons if you don’t.” She whispered.

Sans gave a small bow, his hand swiftly cupping hers and bringing it to his teeth for a kiss. When he stood her hand was still lifted, frozen in place by confusion and surprise.

“i bid thee goodnight, happy solstice my queen.”

He vanished.

Frisk opened and closed her mouth dumbly, an almost plea for him to stay forever trapped on the tip of her tongue. She stared at where her husband had stood and slowly pulled out her looking glass.

Her first Solstice in the Underworld hadn’t gone well as it could’ve been, but it was still memorable.

[ghostbustermelanieking]

reunions

post mag 196 spec/au fic: jon and martin emotionally reunite and hug: the fic

this is entirely self indulgent and not at all meant to speculate canon. playing into my trend of writing the season 5 scenarios i want to see in the world, i wanted to write a fic that's entirely just martin and jon reuniting and hugging, just in case this never happens in canon. this assumes things go relatively all right after jon and basira arrive at htr and everyone gets a chance to talk things out. also can be found here at ao3!

The moment that Annabelle's explanation ends, when she steps away from the spot where Martin is held down, Jon lurches forward to free him. The web stretched over the abyss wobbles precariously at his sharp movements, and the way Martin's eyes widen with panic makes Jon's chest ache. "Careful," says Annabelle, voice thick with amusement, "or you'll bring the whole thing down."

" Martin, " says Jon, clutching at Martin's hand from where it sticks out of the strands of web. Martin clutches back, his grip desperate around Jon's hand. 

The sick feeling that had emerged in Jon's stomach when he and Basira arrived to see Martin stuck in a precarious web (that almost resembles the ribbons of a tape recorder) hasn't subsided yet; it sharpens, actually, seeing how far the fall is. He hasn't taken his eyes off Martin since he got here, hasn't been able to stop staring at the web and the strands around Martin and the whole of it, his relief at Martin being alive coupled with his panic over where he is. His voice is still raw from where he'd shouted at Annabelle to let Martin go. 

Jon grips Martin's hand tighter, and fumbles at the places where the web is holding Martin down. He wants to believe Annabelle when she says that she won't hurt them, that her plan will actually help them, but it's hard, considering all of it—especially with Martin suspended thousands of feet above a chasm to nowhere. "Martin," he says, voice strangled, "hold on, just… it'll be all right, j-just..." 

" Jon, " Martin chokes out, his fingernails digging into Jon's wrist.

Jon finds a knife, somewhere in his pocket, and snaps through the strands around Martin, hands shaking with the effort of trying not to cut through the web that's actually keeping them from falling. The whole thing is shaking, suddenly, as Martin is freed—either because Jon has cut too deeply or from the exertion of their movements—and Jon's hands close in a frantic motion around Martin's wrists, as if he can actually pull Martin back when they're both balanced on the same precarious ledge. 

For a moment, it feels like it's just the two of them, clutching at each other's wrists, staring desperately at each other as they tremble on the edge of a cliff, and Jon can only think, panicked, that if Martin goes down he is going with him. But then he feels a hand close around the back of his jacket and yank backwards—Basira, from her spot on the edge of solid ground, hauling them towards solid ground. They both scramble back with the motion, Martin's feet scrabbling uselessly against the strands of web, Jon yanking upwards so hard that his muscles ache with the strain of Martin's weight. But something gives way, and they manage to land on solid ground just as the strands of web keeping them up snap free. 

" Christ, the two of you," Basira snaps, wearily, her hand landing reassuringly on Jon's shoulder for a moment. "Can't stage a rescue mission without both of you almost collapsing into some… s-some other dimension. "

"I wouldn't have expected anything less," Annabelle says pleasantly, still sounding like she might be laughing at them. 

Jon rolls onto his side, panting, and wrenches himself into a sitting position. His eyes yank immediately to Martin, picking himself up, pulling strands of web away from his wrists and ankles ringed in red from the restraints. Martin's head swivels towards Jon; his own eyes are wide, nearly brimming with tears. 

Jon isn't sure which of them moves first. Maybe it is both of them at the same time. All he knows is that a moment later they are colliding together, on their knees, embracing. Martin's arms are so tight around him that Jon's ribs ache, but he doesn't care. Jon's clutching at the back of Martin's jacket, his face pressed into Martin's neck—Martin's pulse, Martin's heart beating because he is alive —and he's mumbling frantic apologies: I'm sorry, Martin, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It takes a few moments to register Martin's voice, warm and cramped and frantic in Jon's ear, murmuring apologies of his own. 

"We'll give these two a moment," says Annabelle to Basira. 

Jon barely registers this, either, or the sound of their retreating footsteps. All that matters is that Martin is here, here and whole and warm in his arms. Jon shuts his eyes, feels the warm slide of tears down his cheeks. Tugs Martin a little closer, somehow, holding onto him tighter. A part of him had really thought he might never see Martin again. 

He says this—voice breaking, fumbling upwards to press a hand against Martin's cheek, he says, "I-I… thought I might never see you again. Martin, I was so scared. " 

Martin makes a choking sound. He leans into Jon's hand, covers it with his own shaking one. "Jon… Jon, I'm so sorry. I… I didn't mean it, I… I was afraid I'd lose you, a-and I overreacted, but I… I didn't… and then I left, and I-I-I didn't mean to…"

"Martin, n-no, Martin, I…" Jon jerks back a little, looks up at Martin. Wipes a tear from Martin's cheek with his thumb. "Martin, I'm sorry. I… You were right. I w-wanted to tell you that, you… I shouldn't have… I-I came too late, I never should've left, but I wanted to tell you…" 

"No, Jon, you don't understand, I…" Martin shakes his head. Links his fingers with Jon's, squeezes his hand and kisses the palm gently. "I left on purpose. W-well, not really, Annabelle, she… bl-blackmailed me, or something, she said she'd leave if I tried to find you, she… but I left willingly. I-I tried to hang behind, sl-slow us down so you'd be able to catch up but I, we, we were too fast and I… I'm so sorry , Jon. I wasn't thinking. I didn't know what else to do, b-but I never should have…" 

"Martin, don't… it doesn't matter, all right? I-it doesn't matter, it… you're here, you're all right." Jon wraps his arms hard around Martin again, turns his head to kiss Martin's cheek. He'd thought he might never see Martin again, he really had, but here he is. Here he is, alive, and the rest of it doesn't seem to matter somehow. Martin's here now. 

Martin seems to soften in Jon's grasp; he kisses Jon's fingers again before hugging him back just as tightly. "She… she said she had a way out," he says softly. "Annabelle. One where we don't… die, o-or take Jonah's place, or… T-that was why I went. I… If there's any other way, I…"

"I know," Jon says quietly. 

Martin's fingers tangle gently in Jon's hair. "Do you… can you… See? Is she telling the truth?"

"No. No, it's too muddled, the Web is clouding my vision. But…" Jon shudders a little, presses his face hard against Martin's shoulder. "I-it's not good, I don't think. Not entirely. I… I-I don't know what… maybe we'll both make it through, maybe… b-but I don't think it'll be something we… want to do." 

Martin sighs, his eyes sliding shut. "Of… of course it isn't. Of course it isn't."

Jon sighs, too, pulls back a little to look Martin in the eye again. "But… if there's any chance…"

Martin nods. "I… I meant it, Jon, when I said I wouldn't doom the world for you. Or I… I wanted to, I thought I did, but I… I didn't think…" He swallows hard, sniffles a little and seems to compose himself a little. "B-but, yeah, if there's any chance of… of you, o-of both of us…" 

"Y-yes, yes," says Jon. "Anything. Any chance at all. W-we'll hear her out, we… m-maybe it really can fix things." 

Martin laughs a little, softly, and Jon can't help but laugh, too, the stunned, awed sort of laugh. They're here, they're both here, and maybe they have a chance. They press their foreheads together, breathing in time; Jon squeezes Martin's hand again. "I love you," he whispers. "A—and I won't leave you again. I promise." 

Martin squeezes back before letting go. "Wh-whatever happens?"

"I promise," Jon repeats. "Whatever happens, w-we'll be together." For a moment—here, back with Martin again—he allows himself to hope that things might end all right for them. Maybe. 

Martin pushes hair away from Jon's face, brushes his fingertips over Jon's jaw. Smiles just a little, wobbly, and Jon smiles back. "I… I can live with that. I—I love you, too. I love you, and I promise I won't leave you, either. Not again."

"Guys." Jon turns to see Basira, standing a few feet away, the expression on her face somewhere similar to what it was in the Wonderland Hospital, after the Hunt domain, when they'd taken a moment. She shrugs at them, a bit sharply. "Annabelle says it's time."

Jon sighs again; a large part of him is unwilling to step away from this, this brief peace they've created at the edge of a chasm at the end of the world. "All right. We're… we're coming," he calls. He slides his hand down to take Martin's again and holds on tight, like the webs are going to snap up and pull Martin away again. He isn't sure how much time they have left, but he knows he doesn't want to lose track of Martin again in the process of it. Not that, never again. He won't let it take him away again. 

Martin leans into him, just a little, before they get to their feet. "Together?" he whispers into Jon's hair. 

Jon nods, presses a kiss to the soft crest of Martin's shoulder. "Together," he says. 

They get to their feet, still clasping hands, and follow Basira across the sharp landscape of the cavern at Hill Top Road, to where Annabelle Cane is waiting. 

[lovinkiri]

NSFW Alphabet ~ Katsuki Bakugou

Warning: Obviously, there shall be smut. Anything you'd expect from Bakugou.

~~~~

A = Aftercare (Do they take care of you afterwards? How?)

Katsuki's actually pretty soft after sex. He'll run a bath for both of you and carry you into the bathroom. He'd gently rub the wash cloth against your skin.

He'd use a soap with a soft scent, so the smell of lavender or maybe light strawberry is filling the room.

You definitely get sleepy, I mean you were already exhausted but now this? And he lets you lean back against his shoulder and drift off.

"Don't worry bout it, I got you."

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of yours? Of themselves?)

He loves your ass. Bakugou is an ass man and I stand by that statement. He loves to have you over his knee and spank you. He loves simply smacking it when you walk by. He loves the red prints he leaves on it and seeing you struggle to sit 😂

His favorite body part on his own body? Definitely his hands. One, he needs them to properly fight and they do that pretty well. Two, he loves touching you with them. Running his hands up your sides, squeezing your tits, and of course smacking dat ass 😏

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He cums a lot. A bit more than average. Like, one load his spilling out of you in a small stream.

And speaking of which, he prefers to cum inside of you and to fill you up. It's kinda like marking his territory, you know?

If that's not something you're comfortable with, he'd rather cum in your mouth. He'll force your mouth open and watch you swallow it down.

"That's right, swallow it down, slut."

D = Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs)

Definitely has urges to fuck you in public. Whether it be in front of your friends or just on the train, the thought of everyone watching as he takes you against a wall gets him going.

Especially if he notices someone flirting with you. Depending on how hard said person is flirting, this may go from a dirty secret to a funny (hot) story.

E = Experience (Any past experience?)

Nope. None. Before you, Bakugou never even thought of dating, let alone sex. He didn't see the point, he didn't care enough. You were just special.

He was simply a natural and got the hang of things pretty quickly. What'd you expect? Katsuki Bakugou doesn't lose! Not even at sex!

F = Favorite Position (What's their favorite position?)

Face down, ass up. He loves shoving your face into the mattress and towering over you, fucking you senseless. He feels powerful.

His hand will definitely curl into your hair or he'll grip the back of your neck.

G = Goofy (Are they serious or silly during sex?)

I mean, he grins.. While teasing you. So I wouldn't say silly because he's pretty serious on pleasuring you. But not completely serious because of his cockiness.

He definitely laughs at you sometimes.

Like "*laughs* Are you shaking? You needed my cock that badly?"

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

He keeps it pretty neat down there, he just prefers go trim it. And yes. Yes. The carpet does indeed match the drapes, my friend.

I = Intimacy (Are they romantic?)

Yes. I mean, he's not exactly gentle with you, but he's not destroying into next week.

It's more of deep, passionate strokes as he holds you against him.

If he's really trying to get romantic, he'll wrap his arms around you as you straddle him and just slowly thrust up.

J = Jerk off (How often do they do it? What do they think of?)

Before you two get together, he did it maybe a couple times a week. Often times, he'd think of hearing your cute sounds. He'd visualize you doing a slow, sensual strip tease for him.

After you two get together, he doesn't do it as often. At least not alone. He definitely does it with you sometimes. If not with you, its a bit more frustrating. He gets so used to your pussy that his hand isn't as satisfying as it used to be.

K = Kinks (One or more of their kinks)

Degradation, BDSM, Daddy, Spanking, Choking, Biting (or marking in general), hair pulling, there are more.

By the way, all of which can be reversed. Don't be afraid to dom Katsuki. He secretly wants it ;)

L = Location (Favorite place to do it?)

Usually happens in your own rooms, but will definitely take his time with you in the kitchen.

What if someone walks in? He doesn't care. He's too busy making you both feel good. And after a while, you wont care too much either.

M = Motivation (What turns them on?)

A pair a shorts. Bending over while cleaning or something. Making out. Giving him light touches. Hell, even stroking his ego!

Say the right things and he's ready to go.

Trail your hands down his chest and he loves it.

So to put it simply, boi lowkey has a praise kink lol

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do? Turn offs?)

I feel like it depends. Like, for the most part, he likes voyeurism. As long as he's not the one watching.

Though, even that depends. He will only share you with someone he completely trusts, like the Bakusquad.

Realistically, he wouldn't care for Somnophilia. And unless you're both drunk or your just tipsy, won't touch you like that if you're trashed. Lack of consent is, and should always be, a big turn-off.

O = Oral (Would they rather give or receive?)

He would definitely rather receive than give. Like, he doesn't mind giving. And will definitely let you sit on his face. But he loves fucking your throat senseless, its just 👌🏾

P = Pace (Fast? Slow? Gentle? Rough?)

He's only gently when your having a bad day. Unless what you need is to be taken roughly, then he'll deliver.

He's usually rough, but always passionate. He likes to switch it up sometimes though. When teasing, he'd definitely more slow and sensual though.

Q = Quickie (How do they feel about quickies?)

He loves them. He loves the possibility of being caught somewhere, the rush. He loves shoving you into a small space and clamping his hand over your mouth.

He loves when you quickly grind against each other to chase your orgasms. You're both just in a frenzy and things start getting hazy.

R = Risks (Do they like taking risks? Do they like to experiment?)

Oh, he lives for it practically. Nothing scares Katsuki Bakugou. He'll take you almost anywhere and just hope you aren't too loud.

Definitely the type to finger you under the table at dinner with your friends.

Definitely loves cockwarming during movie night under the blanket.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go?)

Typically, he'll only go 4 rounds at the most. Out of respect for your body, you know?

After a bad day, he can go all night. Everything is so much drawn out. Teasing, thrusts, orgasms.

T = Toys (Do they use/own toys?)

Katsuki himself doesn't own many toys. And he's not a fan of using them for the most part. He definitely owns handcuffs and and a paddle. And he'll definitely use your own vibrator on you.

He finds pleasure in fucking you and watching you squirm with the vibrator pressed against your aching clit.

U = Unfair (Do they tease?)

Yes.

Yes.

Yes he does.

He teases like crazy. No matter what, he finds a way to tease. Its in his nature.

V = Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

It depends, really. If you're dominating him, he's moaning roughly. Well, its a mix of a moan and a growl. Tease him enough and he'll start whimpering quietly.

If he's dominating you, not too many moans. It's mostly groaning and grunting, definitely growling. Usually though, he uses his voice talking. Sometimes he'll moan when he cums.

W = Wild card (Random scenario)

His cock pushed deeper into you and his hand found its way into your hair, roughly yanking on it. You yelped and moved back against him feverishly. His hips stilled and you whined instinctively. "What's wrong? You were talking all that crap just before. What, does it take a nice cock to shut you up?" He teased, a growl in his voice.

X = X Ray (Length, size)

This man is long and thick. I emphasize on thick, by the way. He fills you up in all the best places. There's a slight curve up.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

You guys go at it slmost every night. He can't help you! How dare you look so good all day? The way you licked your lips earlier, you did that on purpose didn't you? You wanted attention so badly? Now you got it.

Z = Zzz.. (How quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

He falls asleep quickly. He'll pull you close on top of him or he'll nuzzle your neck. He loves having you against him as you fall asleep, skin against skin.