#never mind it’s actually quite cute

[technoregression]

It’s 2023 and we still haven’t solved the issue of “I want to lay on my tummy and watch a movie without fucking my neck and shoulders”

[sysig]

Sweet dreams, for a time (Patreon)

[agender-vampling]

stay away from children. or consider suicide

Fun fact! I tried! You can read about that in This Post! But I doubt you care! I doubt you're still here! I doubt you even felt obligated to see if I WOULD try AGAIN to die!

I won't! Been there done that didn't work! I am meant to be alive because if I wasn't I wouldn't be!

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Damian is de-aged to a baby and lost in Gotham. A magic user hit him with some kind of spell. His legs don’t work as well and he has trouble walking. That’s when a man appears and squats down with a tilt of his head.

“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”

Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.

The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.

“Are you sure?”

And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.

The man suddenly hangs his head with a deep sigh. He regains himself quickly and stands. Moving closer to put his hands under Damian arms to lift him to perch on his hip.

Damian squirms to get down but refuses to make a sound. The last time he opened his mouth like this it was a pathetic baby sound. He couldn’t let this man see him like this.

“Looks like you’re coming home with me, little guy. I can tell you’ve got some spirit in you. Good, you’ll need it.”

Not ominous at all.

Damian stays with the man, mostly because he couldn’t physically drive a car, but also because he was almost always with him. The man would talk to air at the most random times. Obviously a schizophrenic. But Damian had to admit this man, Danny he comes to find out through a neighbor baby talking at him, has been genuinely trying to take care of him and take care of him well. Well, to the best of his abilities anyway. 

He feeds him organic purées that don’t taste half bad, except the carrots, that one was unacceptable. Danny cleans him regularly despite his crappy apartment and makes sure he is dressed appropriately for the weather. He makes an effort to take him out to the park to play in the sandbox or just walk around discovering ‘new’ things.

Damian doesn’t need a parent, he outgrew the concept when he was five and technically he already had one, but he could tell Danny would make an excellent father. Some mistakes can be overlooked compared to the effort he was putting in.

The only concerning thing was the talking to thin air. It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the reason Danny was visiting all these random people and the graveyard. (Sometimes he will set Damian down to ‘play’ in the grass at the cemetery. It was quite odd.)

He was talking to ghosts. It wasn’t thin air or imaginary friends, no it was actually dead people. The reason Damian actually believes this is for two reasons.

One, Danny shows true results. Damian observes closely whenever they visit a ‘client’ and Danny always has accurate information despite never looking up or researching anything going in.

Two, he never calls himself a medium or psychic. He doesn’t boast about his ability to see ghosts. He does what he does to help the ghosts move on to the other side. Closure is what Danny always says. Closure for the family and the victim. In Gotham, there are a lot of victims.

Damian adjusts to his new life with Danny. It’s been five months and he’s getting used to being small and vulnerable. He’s allowed to be messy and whiny and childish. Danny never scolds him like Mother did. The man has never hit him or raised his voice at him and never expects anything from him. He encourages his progression to speak and walk, but doesn’t expect the best out of him.

It’s… nice. A good break if anything.

They are at the park when one of the bats spot him and pauses. Danny is blowing bubbles into the air and Damian tries to pop as many as he can. It’s a silly game with no clear rules, but Damian finds it entertaining nonetheless.

“Hi there! Is he yours?”

Dick Grayson wears a bright smile, but Damian can see the tightness around his eyes.

“Huh? Oh, yea, this is Damian,” Danny answers.

He had written it with the wooden blocks Danny had given him one week in. Danny took one look at the name on the ground, laughed loudly and ran with it.

“Do you mind if I say hi? He’s so cute.”

Danny looks puzzled by the request but ends up shrugging his shoulders, not seeing a problem with letting a stranger get close to Damian. (Damian knew Danny’s intense eyes were watching Dick’s every move. He was very protective like that.)

“Sure.”

Dick squats down to search Damian’s green eyes. Damian stares back just as intensely.

“Hey there, Damian. My name is Dick.”

Damian gives him a flat look at Dick’s terrible introduction.

“Grayson.”

Although with his little baby teeth not fully in it sounds more like ‘way-shah’.

Relief flashes across Dick’s face and he gives Damian a reassuring smile. It’s not as reassuring at he thinks it is. It promises to bring him home and restore him to his original age. Damian doesn’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.

Dick stands and gives Danny some imaginary excuse to leave quickly. Damian watches him go and so does Danny.

“Funny guy, huh Dami?”

Damian doesn’t respond and Danny notices his change in mood.

“Come here, little guy.”

He knows what Danny is going to do and willingly goes. He is pulled up into the man’s lap and held between two surprisingly muscular arms. Danny’s hugs are nice and warm. They aren’t too tight like Dick’s nor are they stiff like Bruce’s. He never thought he could enjoy human contact, but Danny has been showing him things about himself he didn’t ever know. Turns out he does like hugs and playing airplane and when Danny runs his fingers through his hair when he’s really sleepy.

“Let’s go home a little early today, huh? I’ll make spaghetti and you can be as messy as you want,” Danny promises.

Damian hums. Yes, that sounds nice.

That night Batman comes in through the window. Damian is waiting.

“Damian,” Batman whispers.

“Bah-mun.”

The flat, unamused stare is what gives him away.

Batman lets out a breath silently and reaches into the crib Danny had gotten him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Batman jerks into action, twisting to face Danny who had appeared suddenly. The door behind him is still closed.

Batman stays quiet, silently studying the man before him dressed in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.

Danny tilts his head as he does the same. Damian has never seen the man so serious. He silently worries for the man. He didn’t want him getting hurt to unnecessarily protecting him from his father.

“I’d have to break your arm if you tried to do what it looks like you’re doing.”

Danny says it so plainly. So simple.

Batman straightens.

“He isn’t yours.”

He doesn’t say Damian is his. He doesn’t claim him as his own. Just that Danny shouldn’t have him.

Damian silently agrees because technically he’s right. He doesn’t deserve Danny. He can’t keep playing house like he’s an actual baby. But Damian is also selfish and over the last few months has been taught that it’s okay to ask for things he wants even if it’s not inherently beneficial. The stuffed dog he sleeps with every night is proof of that.

So Damian says nothing.

“He is now,” Danny answers simply like there was no other answer to such a statement.

“He needs to go back to where he belongs.”

“Over my dead body,” is the immediate response.

They stare each other down until Danny scoffs.

“Don’t think I’m not petty enough to fight you, Batman. I’ll fight anyone who wants to take him from me. Damian is mine.”

When Batman tries to forcibly take him, he ends up with a concussion, a blood nose, and two broken arms. Red Robin finds him in a dumpster the next morning.

The story continues with Damian learning how to be a child his age, Danny protecting him and doting on his brilliant son, and the Batfam’s frequent failed attempts to kidnap Damian back to them.

[hannieehaee]

GOODNIGHT N GO

18+ / mdi

summary: having always seen minghao from afar, you always considered him unattainable, with him never interacting with you while his friends brought you around. unbeknownst to you, he had similar thoughts about you, constantly keeping his distance, thinking you must've been interested in his members instead. luckily for you, you had two very meddling friends, too fed up with your mutual idiocy.

content: idol!minghao x hybeidol!reader, reader is mingyu and seokmin's bestie, afab reader, reader is implied to be a 97 liner but its not a huge plot point, acquaintances to lovers, very adorable crushes, assume minghao is a little shier and less social than he seems irl pls, reader is mentioned to have some family troubles, minghao literally courts reader aaahh he's too cute, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation (kind of), dry humping, mentions of pregnancy, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.3k

a/n: this is one of my works im least proud of so pls have that in mind as u read<//3

masterlist | patreon

"C'mon, one more drink."

"Yeah, you can't leave yet, it's too early."

"I have a shoot early tomorrow. I can't be hungover for it," you said for the nth time in the past five minutes.

Currently, you were situated in Seventeen's dorm rooms in the Hybe building.

It wasn't too common for groups to stay within the building, seeing as most people had their own individual apartments or homes outside of the premises, but Seventeen would often frequent their own dorms for hanging out purposes, only ever spending the night if they were too tired to make it home.

As per usual, you were hanging out with Mingyu and Seokmin, with Wonwoo and Seungkwan having decided to also make an appearance. It was quite usual for them to keep you around after work (and even to occasionally steal you during working hours). As expected, the overly extroverted 97 liners of the group had taken you under their wing early after your debut, debuting you as a the only female member of the friend group.

Along with you, there were guys from other groups who had also been blessed with a birthday within the year 1997. This, of course, included Xu Minghao, though he was mostly an honorary member, as he mostly kept to himself and never actually joined in with the group. Even after years of being best friends with multiple members of the Seventeen, you were yet to really get to know Minghao. The man remained a mystery to most of those around him.

This was quite unfortunate to you, seeing as you'd developed a bit of an unrequited interest in the guy. There was something about his calm and confident aura that drew you in. Unlike most of his other members, he had a tendency to keep to himself and keep outside social interaction to a minimum. This had at some point caused you to hold the belief that maybe he didn't like you, but your friends had informed you time and time again that this was simply his personality. However, that didn't prevent you from wanting to seek him out (though never actually going through with it).

This was why despite your previous excuse to leave to sleep in early for tomorrow's schedule had been thrown out the window the moment you spotted certain boy with a mullet walk into the room, rubbing at his eyes as if he'd just been awoken.

"What are you guys still doing up? I thought you'd all be gone by now," mumbled the pajama-clad boy, approaching the couch Mingyu was currently leaning back on and taking a seat next to him.

Subconsciously, you straightened your posture, attempting to appear casual at his sudden appearance.

You could count the times you'd been in Minghao's proximity with one hand. Being honest, you weren't quite sure if he even knew who you were past the general knowledge of your role as an idol.

"Sorry, Hao. We forgot you were staying here tonight," apologized Seokmin as he absentmindedly handed the boy an open bottle of soju.

Minghao was joining in on the drinking, it seemed. Naturally, this caused you to comfortably snuggle into the couch and forget all thought of leaving before having that last drink you had been offered just moments prior.

In front of you was a coffee table and two boys sitting on the couch opposite; Mingyu and Minghao. Surrounding you were Wonwoo and Seungkwan, while Seokmin remained standing and leaning against the counter to your right. Despite your distance to Minghao, you had the privilege of having a seat in which you could stare at him without it seeming unnatural.

"Oh, you've met Y/N, right?", Seungkwan suddenly remembered, taking his usual role as mood-maker to make an introduction if need-be.

Minghao finally laid eyes on you for the first time, giving you a polite smile and a subtle bow of his head, "I think a few times. Hi, Nice to see you."

Returning his gesture, you responded similarly, taking your eyes off him right after and giving your attention to the large boy sitting next to him who was now speaking.

"So, staying for that last drink?", he asked you, holding out a glass for you, giving you the option to take or deny it.

"Sure. Just this one," you insisted, grabbing the glass and taking a sip. Cheers erupted from your friends at your agreement to stay, with all of them seemingly tipsy enough to get excited at such a minuscule act.

On your peripheral, you missed how Minghao continued looking your way, smiling softly to himself as he stared.

-

"Well, that's the last of them," chuckled Minghao the moment Seokmin began slouching back on the couch, clearly falling into deep slumber.

Only an hour later and all four boys had either fallen victim to their drunken state and lost to the battle to slumber, or had made their way to bed before their dignity left them.

In front if you laid a snoring Mingyu as a passed out Seokmin subconsciously attempted to cuddle into him in his sleep. Not too far earlier, the two other boys had left, leaving you and Minghao as the last standing of the night.

As the night had progressed, rearrangements were made to your sitting accommodations, resulting in Seokmin joining Minghao and Mingyu on their couch right after Seungkwan's departure, leading to a peeved out Minghao making his way onto your couch to avoid the two large men bugging him as they got progressively more drunk.

At that moment you wanted to think it might've been an excuse to sit closer to you, but you knew that was just wishful thinking. It was something that made you giddy regardless, as you now found yourself side to side with him, practically alone in the boys' dorm's living room, — ignoring the two sleeping men across you — nursing drinks as your mutual tipsiness accompanied you.

"They were never good drinkers anyway," you responded with a chuckle, resting your back against the back of the couch as Minghao followed along, head slightly turning to face you.

There was a moment of comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your current buzz. Similarly to you, Minghao had chosen to not drink much through the time he'd joined you and the guys, choosing to nurse a single drink through the night. You'd had two, but found yourself still fully lucid.

"I don't think we've ever formally met, huh?", he mused, nodding in your direction.

"A few times, but you never hang around enough for me to get a word out," you agreed.

This pulled a chuckle from him, "Sorry, despite popular belief, I'm not as much of a social butterfly as my bandmates."

"I don't think anyone could possibly be as social as those two," you gestured to the two boys sleeping across from you, "What? You don't enjoy drinking til losing your inhibitions?", you joked.

"I envy them sometimes. I mean, clearly I've been missing out on a lot," he revealed, giving you an unreadable smile.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Haven't made too many friends in the industry so far. I keep to myself too much sometimes, I think."

"Well, you could always join us more often. The guys are always inviting you. We'd all love the company," you encouraged, offering him a smile back.

He hummed at you, "Yeah? I'll take your word for that, then," he leaned over to the coffee table in front of you, putting down both of your drinks before pouring two shots and handing one over to you.

"Here," he clinked with you, "To my new friend," he gave you a confident yet appreciative smile, taking his shot afterwards.

"Oh? Okay, then. Sure," you followed along and took your shot, giggling at how easily he turned up his charm, "So, friends, huh?", you asked after you'd both downed your shots.

He shrugged, "Maybe we'll be the best of them, who knows."

After that night with Minghao, — which was spent drinking and reminiscing on your own personal memories with the two idiots you liked to call your best friends — you began to see him more frequently. You didn't get to know each other too much that night, being far too tipsy and sleepy to make it past an hour of alone time with him. However, his frequent presence helped you grow accustomed to him. It was nice to see the contrast between him and Seokmin and Gyu.

The two of you still didn't talk too much, usually sticking to comfortable silences more than anything else. His company was still always welcome, and very much encouraged by the three of you. Seokmin and Mingyu never questioned his sudden desire to begin taking them up on their offers to hang out, simply accepting his newfound presence as a gift.

You hoped that your crush on the boy wasn't too obvious, but as of now, you were pretty sure you were in the clear. Had those two known of your crush, they would've already ambushed you with a million questions about it. There was also the fact that you didn't want to get in the way of what Minghao clearly wanted to be a friendship and nothing more. Sure, he was very courteous to you, but nothing he ever did or said ever gave you any signal that he meant for your interactions to be anything but platonic.

Any outing between you and Minghao was always crowded with your two other friends. Even if any part of you wanted to act out on your crush, it was practically impossible due to their constant presence. The dynamic you'd quickly formed had been nice, though, as it usually consisted of Seokmin and Mingyu as a duo while you and Minghao stuck to one another. Your calm and introverted demeanors went very well together.

Walking side by side during any outing whilst your two friends led the way, too lost in their own shenanigans, you and Minghao smiled softly to yourselves at the other's company. No words were needed as you enjoyed the breeze of the night. You knew all to well that there'd be news articles on your outing, — yet another sighting of the 97's of SEVENTEEN with Y/G/N's Y/N — but it was such a common occurrence that no one truly paid any mind to it anymore.

"Hey, how about we rent a karaoke room to end the night?", Seokmin had suddenly halted his movements, causing Mingyu to bump into him at his abrupt stop.

Turning to face everyone, he looked around to see who agreed with his proposition. You'd already spent most of the afternoon at a restaurant nearby and walked through the streets of a populated clubbing area, so karaoke was not too out of the question in the context of the night.

Mingyu expressed his enthusiastic agreement, turning to you to see if you were down for it too. You noticed Minghao's eyes on you too, giving you an encouraging smile that let you know that he was interested in hearing your response before giving his own.

"How about we head back home and do karaoke there? There's probably already a ton of pictures of us hanging out today," you reasoned, not wanting to end the night just yet but also taking in mind your role as an idol.

Mingyu boo'd at you, "That's boring! I don't wanna go home yet," he pouted, clearly demonstrating how tipsy he currently was.

Seokmin agreed, "We can buy those fruity drinks you like at the norebang, c'mon," he insisted, "Myungho, what do you think? You've never tagged along to the norebang with us, I'll pay," he offered, tugging at Minghao childishly.

Minghao turned to look at you, "Be gentlemen," he scolded, walking over to your side to face them, "If she wants to head home then we head home," he affirmed, rolling his eyes at his friends' exaggerated groans of complaint.

"Thank you, Hao," you nodded at him with a smile, sticking your tongue out childishly at the other two boys.

Seokmin headed over to your side to hold your hand whilst Gyu now stuck by Minghao, walking in pairs of two once more as you turned back to head over to the car you'd arrived in. Looking back, you caught Minghao's eye, also catching sight of a subtle smile thrown your way.

It took you very little to arrive to your apartment, with the two boys making their way in ahead of you as if they owned the place. You couldn't blame them, knowing they were very used to coming over quite frequently. Minghao, on the other hand, stayed behind with you, waiting for you to welcome him in. He was very cordial and reserved, something which endeared you to no end.

Entering, you lost sight of your other two friends, who were probably already situated in the large living room located upstairs, ransacking you of any alcohol and entertaining themselves with your karaoke system. Meanwhile, Minghao continued to follow your slow movements, waiting by your side as you locked the entrance door. His hands remained intertwined on his back, giving him a posture you would only really expect from royalty.

Smiling at you, he nodded silently as if to encourage you to move forward so he could follow you along the length of your home.

"Show me around? Looks like the guys are already really familiar with the place," he suggested with a smile.

"Yeah," you chuckled, "They're here a lot. Wonwoo banned any group hangouts at his and Mingyu's, and Vernon sleeps early, so we never really go to Seokmin's. I live alone and the place is pretty big, so they crash here a lot," you explained, beginning to walk into the entrance hallway, "I'll show you around. It's uselessly big. I mostly have spare rooms for leisure," you explained, walking by the various rooms of what could very well be called a mansion due to its size. Large homes like these were common amongst idols, though many of them usually shared with other members.

"It's pretty," he said as he looked around, stopping by a certain painting hanging on your wall.

"My place or the painting?", you asked, standing to his side, "Mingyu made it," you gestured to the painting.

"Yeah, it looked familiar," he nodded, eyes still on it, "You're pretty close with Gyu," he stated, though it gave you the intonation of wonder.

You nodded at him, "He was my first friend when I became an idol. I probably wouldn't have met most of my current friends if it wasn't for him. He's too outgoing for his own good," you shrugged, reminiscing on how you'd met Mingyu and consequently every other member of what came to become the 97's squad, along with most Seventeen members.

"I can relate to that," he began walking further into your home, with you following along, "He was my first friend in Seoul. Didn't care about the language barrier at all, always tried to make me feel welcome," he seemed to reminisce too.

"Yeah, that's Mingyu," you joined with a smile, "I'd say I'm equally close to Seokmin, though. You? Any favorites?", you joked.

"Hmm, those two? Not really, but like I told you, I'm interested in getting close to someone else," he subtly bumped shoulders with you as he walked, chuckling when you did it back.

"Yeah? Well, maybe I'll have to rethink my favorites also," you smiled back with suggestion in your eyes.

This came to be a common occurrence between you — silent yet comfortable smiles.

Making your way upstairs, you made a stop by a balcony located just before the living room, from which you could already hear Seokmin and Mingyu taking liberal use of through the karaoke you had installed. Sharing a laugh, you and Minghao walked over to the veranda and took in the night's breeze.

"I'm going back to China soon," he suddenly said, "We're mostly on a break for two months while Wonwoo and Jeonghan hyung go through their comeback. I'm sure the guys must've told you?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I went to visit them during rehearsals once or twice. How long will you be gone?" you couldn't help but show your disappointment.

"Sad? We barely met each other," he nudged your shoulder again, "Just two weeks. Been wanting to see my parents for a while."

"Aw, that's nice. I'm sure they must miss you," you coo'd, sniffling at the chilly weather.

"Cold? Wanna head back inside?" he asked, nodding when you shook your head in negation, "Yeah, I miss them too. Love them more than anything. It's the one downside to our career," he went on to respond to your question.

"That must be really nice. I'm glad you get to see them soon," you expressed your genuine happiness at him being able to go back to his home country. He truly seemed like the type of guy who lived and breathed for his family — at least going by how he treated the second family he found with his members.

"How about you? Gyu told me you're on rest. Visiting family any time soon?", he wondered, suddenly shoulder to shoulder with you, continuing to look forward as he leaned on the veranda.

"Uh, nope. I don't really see them often," you mumbled, "It's been a while, actually," you continued, sure your body language told on you. Minghao must've caught on to this, allowing the hand he had resting on the veranda to slide over and next to your own hand, gracing the back of your palm with his pinky.

It was such a small gesture, yet entirely too sweet for you to take in without blushing to yourself.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, letting a moment of silence pass before continuing to speak with that soft voice of his, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but ... you're always welcome in my home. My mom would love you," he assured.

You chuckled, "Yeah? You sure? You barely met me," you teased by mirroring his earlier statement, returning his gesture and letting your fingers trace his own absentmindedly on the veranda.

"Just a hunch. If I like you, then she'd love you," he reaffirmed.

"Oh, so you like me?", you finally turned to face him, smiling teasingly.

"Thought I was clear about that," he cocked his head in mock curiosity, smiling back at you, "Gotta be more assertive, got it," he murmured mostly to himself afterward, finally disconnecting himself from the veranda and beginning to walk away, stopping to gesture you follow him.

"C'mon, they'll get too drunk if we don't go babysit them," he reminded you, holding out his hand to guide you into your own home — it was a bit ridiculous, but you could tell soft touches and stolen glances were a big thing with him, and who were you to complain?

As expected, the guys ended up staying the night, too exhausted to get themselves off your couch until the following morning. Minghao, unlike them, did not reach a drunken state that impeded him from leaving, but it was silently agreed between the two of you that you did not want him to leave, nor did he want to be deprived of your company.

While the guys stayed passed out on the couch, you offered Minghao one of your spare rooms, something which made you feel slightly excited. Sure, you weren't sharing a bed or anything like that, but you'd still be waking up to Minghao in your home, and that was a win in your book.

Waking up, you headed to the kitchen, finding all your friends gathered in the interconnected dining room as they nursed their hangovers. Minghao had taken the liberty of making tea, smiling at you as he bid you good morning.

Heading over to where he leaned against the kitchen counter, you took the cup from him with a 'thank you,' blushing to yourself when his hand made contact with your hip as you turned around to lean on the counter next to him. The contact had clearly been with the intention to prevent you from hitting yourself against the counter, but it had still been to par with the cordial and charming persona Minghao carried with him, resulting in you swooning over him yet again.

Distracting yourself, you chose to make conversation with the two boys in front of you, chuckling at how exhausted they seemed (though out of their own volition).

"Do you guys have to drink yourselves into a coma every time you come over?" you deadpanned, earning a chuckle from Minghao.

"It'd be more fun if you joined us in blacking out," groaned Mingyu, "Not fair we're the only ones singing karaoke while drunk."

"Did I hold a gun to your head and tell you to chug or you'd die? You're just a sore loser. Not my fault Hao and I beat your score cause you were too drunk to sing," you retaliated, earning a hesitant hum in agreement from Seokmin, who was still silently suffering on the table in front of you.

"Anyways, what do you guys want to do today?", Mingyu changed the subject, "Norebang? Wanna call up Kook and Jaehyun? Or we could go to that Bruno Mars concert Jihoon suggested? Thoughts? Opinions?"

"How are you not dead right now? You drank twice as much as that guy and he's practically dead?" you gaped at him, pointing at the shell of a man that Lee Seokmin seemed to become during hangovers. Meanwhile, Minghao watched you with amusement, quietly enjoying your banter with his friend.

"Hao leaves soon, so we need to take advantage of all the time we have left!" he insisted, "We start promotions almost as soon as he returns and you'll probably be off your break by then. C'mon!"

"What do you think?", you turned to Minghao, "Concert? Norebang, again? What did you wanna do?"

He shrugged, "Whatever you want, I'm down," he sipped at his tea.

Seokmin began to gain consciousness again as he joined the conversation, "Jihoonie only has three extra tickets to Bruno Mars and Nonnie is going, remember, Gyu?", he stressed toward his friend, "And we already agreed we'd go, so you two are gonna have to find something else to do," he frowned, "Sorry, Y/N."

"What do you mean? Jihoon said he had five ti- ow, fuck," Mingyu groaned halfway through his statement, wincing as he hunched over on his seat in what seemed to be pain. Looking over at Seokmin for half a second before responding, his facial expression went from annoyed to normal as he responded again, "Right, I forgot, uh, he already gave out the tickets, sorry. I forgot I already made plans with Min and Jihoon for that," he rasped.

"Yeah, Hao can probably keep you company, though, right, Hao?", interrupted Seokmin, Mingyu nodding along, "We can meet at the afterparty after the concert. Jihoonie can probably get you guys in," he suggested.

As odd as the sudden lack of insistence that you join them at the concert was, you ignored it, opting to just take advantage of the opportunity to get some alone time with Minghao. Turning to your side, you could notice the remnant of a scowl on his face directed at Mingyu, but it immediately turned into a smile as soon as he faced you.

What you didn't notice, though, were the dumb smiles exchanged by your two friends as they watched you and Minghao for the rest of the time spent in your home, often removing themselves from the conversation if it meant you and Minghao got more alone time with one another.

Having any time spent without Minghao after that was practically unheard of. Being mutually on a break of sorts, it was easy to see each other quite often. The guys always enjoyed your company, and even more so that of Minghao's due to how rare it had been for him to join them in outings prior to this, so it was common for you to find yourself near the duo (+ Minghao) a few times a week.

Although you'd sometimes be joined by other 97 liners in the industry or various other members of Seventeen, it was hard to not take notice of the way in which Minghao would gravitate to you almost immediately. He gave you his utmost attention, opening doors for you, ordering your meals for you (with surprising knowledge of your taste), texting you good morning and good night, and even insisting he and the guys drop you off at home any time you hung out.

If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was trying to show romantic interest in you. However, you had quickly caught onto Minghao's courteous behavior towards everyone in his life. This was something he had even let you in on, telling you about his upbringing and even sometimes apologizing if he appeared too formal for his age. You always encouraged him, however, letting him know how much you appreciated how much of a gentleman he was — it was a nice contrast from your brotherly dynamic with his groupmates.

Trying not to visibly swoon at every act of service Minghao did for you proved to be a feat. Sometimes you'd have to take a breather to hold yourself back from throwing yourself at him. It was pathetic, really, how into him you were within such a short time of becoming his friend. But this was something you had to keep to yourself, not wanting to ever make him uncomfortable or halt his behavior.

It only became worse with time as you spent more and more time together. Mingyu and Seokmin were quite popular amongst idols, each having various friend groups to hang out with during their time off. You were sure Minghao must've also had many friends (despite his claims otherwise — he was too likable to be friendless), but he had chosen to spend most of his time before going to China with you. Claiming your hopes were up would've been an understatement. It was impossible to not want nor hope for Minghao to make a move and explicitly ask you out, but he never did. What he did do, however, was choose you to be the last person he saw before leaving Korea for the following two weeks.

Inviting you over to his place that night, Minghao had let you know that this was his last night in Korea before heading to China for the next two weeks. After having gotten close to you for the past two months, he had decided that you'd be the best company possible for a quiet evening in before departing. You didn't have it in you to even question why he'd pick you over his own groupmates, simply happy to spend time with him with the knowledge that you wouldn't get to do so for a while.

"Sorry for the short notice," he apologized as he approached you on the couch with a glass of wine, "But we've been hanging out so much, it felt natural to ask you over."

You hummed in agreement, "Should I ask why Seokmin and Gyu weren't invited or should I ignore it and take advantage of the extra wine?", you asked as you took a sip of said wine.

"They're too loud," he groaned exaggeratedly, "You're quiet, like me. Your company's too nice to pass up while I can have it," he added, joining you in your drinking.

"You can always just call me while you're there," you reminded him, "The guys call me all the time when they're overseas."

"I will be calling you," he affirmed, "But it's different in person. I'll still miss your company," he shrugged.

"I really did become your favorite, huh?" you teased, "Beat them all for first place in just two months," you were joking, but he still nodded in affirmation, chuckling along with you.

Grabbing onto the wine bottle he had laid in front of you, you went to top him off when you realized his glass was almost empty, only to be stopped by him.

"My plane's in a few hours, I can't drink too much. Being tipsy on a plane is one of the worst feelings."

"A few hours? You said tomorrow," you gaped at him.

"Well, it's 11:38, so it technically is tomorrow," he shrugged.

You sat up straight, "Dude, you should be leaving already. Why are we even here? Should I drive you? I can call my driver, he'll be here in-"

He grabbed onto your shoulders, halting your movements, "Calm down, my manager already had all my things sent over and the airport is only like twenty minutes away," he started with a calm voice, "Sorry I called you so late, we had a short promo to do earlier today, so my day got taken up at the last minute and I really wanted to say goodbye," he explained.

"Minghao, it would've been fine if you just left, I don't want to make you late."

"I didn't want to leave with no warning. It'd be rude of me to neglect saying goodbye to someone I care about," he said in the plain and cordial way in which he always spoke, grabbing onto your hand and tracing it like he had grown a tendency of doing.

Once more, it was hard not to swoon at such a small detail — the insistence in complicating his day only to make sure he didn't somehow make you feel neglected. Most people would've settled with a simple phone call or even just contacting you incessantly he returned, but Minghao wasn't like most people.

You looked down, nodding, "Thank you. That's sweet of you to say."

"I know it's only two weeks, but I'll still miss you. It's rare for me to really get close to anyone in the industry," he explained.

You nodded in agreement, "Yeah, me too. It kind of sucks since I'll be off my break by the time you come back and we probably won't be able to hang out as much anymore," you mumbled.

"I'll still be free. I'll come to you," he reassured, "Maybe we can finally hang out without the guys getting in the way," he smiled, "Just you and me?"

There was a slight suggestion in the background of your conversation. It was somewhat clear to you that you weren't speaking of mere friendship anymore. The moment was tender and suggestive, leaving room for something more. If you were mere friends, Minghao probably wouldn't have insisted in seeing you or been as communicative as he been so far. He wanted to make sure he preserved the friendship through his absence, however short it would be.

However, this was too much to get into knowing he'd be leaving likely within the hour. Instead of getting into it, you simply nodded along, cracking another joke about how loud and all over the place your friends could be. Despite offering to go with him to drop him off at the airport, he declined, insisting his driver drop you off home before he left for his flight. With a hug goodbye, he left you there, promising to call once he arrived and expressing that he'd miss you once again.

After two months of spending almost every day together, you felt genuine sadness at his sudden absence. Maybe it was dramatic of you to feel sad over such a short period of separation, but Minghao just had that effect on people — or at least you. He had taken such a quick interest in you that made you feel like the only girl in the world. It was specially bothersome to know that you'd both be too busy to see each other by the time he came back, but you were happy he'd get to see his family after so long.

With these thoughts, you went to sleep, waking up the next morning to a call from Minghao informing you of his arrival and of how content he was to be with his family. Being the last person he saw and first he contacted made your heart soar, whilst also making you frustrated at the back and forth that had been going on between you since you met him.

You needed him to make a move soon, or else you'd grow insane.

"You know he likes you, right?", asked Mingyu quite abruptly one day.

Only five days after Minghao's absence and you found yourself hanging out with your favorite dynamic duo yet again. Any time you had off was usually spent either with your own group or with them; it was the same for Seok and Gyu, who would always seek you out if possible.

"Who?", you asked despite having certain idea of who he was talking about.

"Boo, don't play dumb, its boring," joined in Seokmin, sitting next to you on the couch whilst the three of you engaged in a somewhat intense game of Mario Kart in Mingyu's living room. Wonwoo had decided to join in this time.

"Who are we talking about?", murmured Wonwoo distractedly as he annihilated the three of you at the game.

"Minghao," they both responded at once.

"Oh, yeah, absolutely," he agreed nonchalantly.

Suddenly you fell off a cliff in the game, having your character be fished away from the precipice and placed back on the race track as you widened your eyes at the statement.

"What? You know? How would you even know?," you rasped, completely caught off guard by the sudden (yet somewhat expected) revelation. You had hoped Minghao would confess to you at some point, or even occasionally convinced yourself it was all in your head. What had been low in your list of expectations had been your friends informing you of his feelings in his absence.

"He talks about you any time you're not around," Wonwoo began with a monotonous tone as most of his attention was taken up by the game, "He never leaves home, yet he's been doing it every day since he met you, he has that dopey smile all the time now. I don't know, it's just kinda obvious," he finished, chuckling when he realized he crossed the finish line.

"If Wonwoo can tell but you can't, we have a problem," said Seokmin, groaning at his loss in the game.

"I don't know," you shrugged, completely ignoring the game now, "We're friends. I know he acts a certain way, but I think he would've already said something if he liked me like that."

"He's just shy. And he's very particular about who he lets in. The fact he keeps coming back means he must really like you," emphasized Mingyu, sitting back against the couch with you.

"We've already been trying to get you guys alone as much as possible, but you're taking too long to tie the knot," added Seokmin, followed by nods from the other too.

"So what am I supposed to do with this information? Do I ask him out or-"

You were met with a chorus of 'No!'s, making you immediately shut your mouth.

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder," quoted Wonwoo, "He'll ask you out once he's back for sure."

Mingyu nodded in agreement, "He wasn't super direct about it, but he implied to us that he would, so yeah, be ready."

The thought made your heart race. How were you supposed to speak to him again after this without becoming a mess at the thought of your crush being reciprocated? Fuck, you even went as far as to wish you'd followed him all the way to China. The two wait week for him to come back suddenly felt like too much.

Both your thoughts and conversation were interrupted by the sudden vibration of your phone, leading three sets of eyes to turn to your direction.

"Let me guess," laughed Seokmin, wiggling his eyebrows at the implication of who may be calling at that moment.

"He never calls me, yet you've known him for two months and you get a daily call," Mingyu sulked jokingly as you went to pick up, ready to leave the room so you could answer the phone, "If you don't realize he likes you, then you're dumb."

"Don't tell him we told you," rasped out Seokmin before you were out of his line of fight, earning a nod from you before you picked up and left.

Walking into the room next door, you sat on Mingyu's bed as you finally responded, "Hello?"

"You looked beautiful today, you know," were Minghao's first words in response, "Gyu sent me some pictures you guys took yesterday. God, you look breathtaking."

You were unaware that Mingyu had sent Minghao the pictures he'd taken of you the day prior in which you went clubbing, something you were yet to do with Minghao as of yet. The implication of Minghao asking Mingyu for pictures of you made you blush.

"Stop flattering me," you groaned, attempting to keep control of your voice, knowing your nosy friends likely had their ears to the door.

"What, can't I appreciate beauty? I'm kind of jealous the guys got to see you all dressed up," he mumbled with amusement in his voice.

"Well, maybe don't leave the country next time," you teased, "I'll tell the guys to take you clubbing as soon as you're back," you promised, "Then maybe you can see me in a dress."

"Oh, is that a promise?", you could hear the teasing lip bite from your end, "Nah, not really a clubbing person. How about I make you dinner? Then you have another reason to wear a dress for me," he suggested.

For him. God, he wanted you dead.

You internally groaned at how smooth he was, "I feel like I should be the one cooking you dinner. As a welcome, you know?," you suggested instead. There was something about Minghao that made you want to throw everything away just to husband him up.

"You don't have to go out of your way. I should be the one treating you, it's what's right," he argued softly, "All you have to do is meet me at my place in a pretty dress, okay? I'll take care of the rest."

"Okay, you wore me down," you whined, "Damn you, Xu, you're good at this."

"Only with you," he murmured back.

The rest of the conversation went as your talks usually did. It was filled with updates from his day to day with his family and your own occurrences with your groupmates and friends. You kept him up to date with the happenings with Seok and Gyu, knowing he was more privy to calling you than them. The unspoken suggestion of you being of his utmost interest remained there, though nothing was ever explicitly said. Even as he asked you to go over to his place, you were unsure if it was meant as romantic date or if that'd come later. It made you giddy, but also far too excited to wait.

The two weeks passed faster than expected. Minghao's absence was barely felt, specially due to how constant his communication with you remained. The good morning messages, pictures, updates and lengthy phone calls never ceased, even consistently interrupting your time hanging out with your two shared friends. Any time you were on the phone with Minghao, you'd be met with teasing looks and exaggerated kissy sounds coming from either Seokmin or Mingyu (occasionally even Wonwoo or any other member who was present at the moment).

You had been completely worn down by both Minghao and his friends. The constant back and forth was enough to make you completely defenseless to Minghao's charm, but his friends' open teasing only made you more and more certain in Minghao's feelings for you.

Today was finally the day of his return, in which you found yourself getting ready to go meet him at his place. You'd insisted in picking him up (knowing Mingyu and Seokmin would also be getting him), but Minghao insisted you stayed behind, telling you he wanted to wash himself up and cook dinner before seeing you — Mingyu would be helping with the cooking.

You were anxious yet excited as you knocked on his door, though unsure if you'd be walking into a group meeting or a one-on-one between you and Minghao.

As soon as he opened the door, he offered you a soft hug, burying his face in your neck before even speaking, "Missed you," he mumbled, humming when you parroted the words back at him.

Disconnecting from him, you blushed when his hand immediately went to your own, leading you into his apartment with ease. His thumb played with the back of your palm whilst moving towards his couch, which had two plates of what looked to be like a luxurious meal — courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.

Sensing your eyes on the food, he spoke up, "Mingyu helped me make it. It's my mom's recipe," he informed you, "I'll let you eat soon, okay? Just ... There's something else I want to show you first, wait here," he let go of your hand as you stood in the middle of the living room, leaving the room for a few moments before returning with a small box.

Walking towards you with an excited smile, he became a little shier once he made eye contact with you. Your hands went up to receive the small box from him, his fingers gracing your own as he handed it over. A slight meeting of shy gazes was shared, but both your eyes went back to the box mere seconds later.

"You got me this? Hao, you really didn't have to," you murmured, opening it and gasping lightly at its content — it was a golden necklace; a little worn, but beautiful.

"It's my mother's," he started, enveloping your hands as they held onto the necklace, "I, uhm, I told her about you, and she insisted I bring this back to you," he explained, smiling down at you as you gaped at him, surprised he'd tell his mom about someone he'd just barely met, "She said I should give it to someone special. My dad gave it to her when they first started dating and she's kept it ever since."

"What?", your eyes widened attempting to hand back the piece of jewelry, "Hao, I- I can't accept this, it must mean a lot to your mom, I-"

He chuckled, interrupting you as he enclosed the necklace in your hands, "Please, Y/N, it's fine," he murmured once securing the necklace in your hold, "Here, at least try it on," he suggested as he gestured for you to turn around, now grabbing onto the necklace himself.

You followed along wordlessly, removing any obstacle from your neck and baring it for him to secure the necklace around your neck. His nimble feelings traced the back of your neck softly, leaning down to practically breathe you in as he adjusted it to perfection. Slowly, his face approached the back of your neck, nose and lips tracing your skin silently. You could feel the breath of his touch grace against your skin, forming goosebumps in its wake.

"You're so special to me, which is why I wanted you to have this," he breathed out, "But you already know that, right? How special you are to me?", he slowly turned you around, face still semi-buried in your neck. It was impossible to make eye contact due to the close proximity between you, but you could tell his eyes were heavy as he stared down at the skin of your neck.

Just as slowly as before, he separated from you, noses practically touching as he finally looked down into your eyes. His hand went up to your chin, making sure you were facing him just like he was you.

"Hao, I-"

"Sorry I waited so long," he chuckled lightly, "I wanted to make sure you liked me back before I made a move. Wanted to make you comfortable and get to know you, but it was hard to hold back sometimes," he explained, eyes going from your eyes to your lips, "Did I already tell you how beautiful you look tonight?", he interrupted his confession with a breathless chuckle as he allowed himself to look you up and down.

"Not yet, but-"

"Sorry, you look amazing. Is it all for me? Or is this reserved for friends too?", he asked as he bit a smile back, letting it break through when he registered your confusion, "I, uh, I used to think maybe you liked Mingyu, but that's not the case right? This is mutual. The guys see it too, I think. I know I haven't been too forward, but you understand my feelings, right?", he questioned, practically breathing you in.

Your breath was heavy at the confession, eyes trapped between locking on his eyes and lips, but eventually remaining stagnant on his lips. At some point, his hands went down and hesitantly made their way to your waist, pulling your body towards his when his act met no resistance.

"Hao, I- I like you too, I thought-," you cleared your throat and tried again, "I thought maybe you only liked me ad a friend, but, fuck, you like me too? I- I need to hear you say it," you let out, shocked any words could possibly come out of your lips when your brain kept screaming at you to kiss him.

Minghao appeared to have a similar idea, choosing to let hid actions speak for him rather than his words. The minute space between you became nonexistent when he kissed you, sighing softly into your lips when your mouth instantly opened for his.

The kiss wad soft and innocent; simply a demonstration of his feelings for you. He breathed out an 'I like you; so much,' into your lips after a few moments, but no response from you was permitted as he locked lips with you once more.

Any softness or innocence left the kiss soon after. It wasn't filthy by any means, but it was unexpectedly intense. Minghao seemed to be reading into your reactions, drinking in any sighs and moans coming from your lips and acting on them by kissing you harder, by slipping his tongue in your mouth, by softly pushing you against a wall and trapping you with his touches.

"Ha-hao," you moaned out between kisses, unsure of what you even wanted to say.

"Is this okay? I'll stop, just-"

You shook your head, cutting him off with a kiss, "Don't stop. Take me to your room," those were the last coherent words to leave you that night, earning a breathless chuckle from Minghao as he held your hand and led you to his room, food completely ignored.

Once in his room, you were led to his bed, though he stopped you before you could get in it, turning you around to kiss you again. His hands went back to your waist, rubbing up and down your back almost innocently. Your hands were the ones to become braver, going from playing with his hair to the front of his dress shirt, toying at the buttons and undoing the first few.

This silent demonstration of need made Minghao's hands become bolder, going down to your ass and kneading it. It was a back and forth. Any time you did something bold, he did too, going from your unbuttoning of his shirt to him throwing off your dress. You quickly ended up in your underwear while he stood in front of you shirtless and with unbuttoned pants.

His lips finally left yours, kissing down your neck and collarbones, heavy breath fogging against your skin while his hands explored your body. Your sighs occasioned groans from him along with mumbles filled with praise.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he sighed as he rested his forehead on your chest, taking a moment to breathe you in. Disconnecting himself from you, he finally looked you up and down, smiling softly at you before biting his lip from preventing his smile from growing any bigger, "You're gorgeous ... You're art. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and ... and I want you so bad," his voice grew deeper by the end of his statement.

He gently pushed you down, allowing you to lay back on the bed while he knelt before you. His hands felt the expanse of your legs, mouth gluing to the side of your knee and laying a soft kiss there. Upon noticing your reaction, more kisses joined the first one, trailing up and down your thighs while you looked down at him with a pained look in your eye. He seemed troubled with what he wanted to do first, needing to touch and kiss you all over.

"Can I?" he asked when his lips came far too close to your center, eyes hooded with desire.

No words left you, just a nod, but it was enough for Minghao to push your panties aside and go to town.

With a single lick, he went from slit to clit, groaning at the first contact. No more tentative touches came after that, only a mess of his tongue and lips drowning in you as his arms held your legs to prevent the incessant grinding of your hips against his face.

He ate you out expertly, moaning liberally against you as if the pleasure was all his own. His lips trapped your clit, sucking it in while his eyes rolled back. As much as your eyes attempted to close, you couldn't stand a single second in which you didn't get to see him as he gave you pleasure.

Your first orgasm came quickly, but it never fully subsided as his lips continued to lick and suckle at you, with his fingers even joining in to open your lips up for better access for his tongue. The wet noises were too explicit for you to process, but they only added to your sensitivity. Minghao ignored any whines for him to stop, taking note of how your words contradicted your actions. — your hands kept pushing his head back in while you whined 'it's too much!' at him — Your body clearly wanted more, and Minghao seemed too pleased to provide.

"Cum again," he rasped, "Wet my face and cum," he practically demanded, "You're so beautiful when you cum."

His hips would occasionally cant against the mattress, which made your eyes roll back any time you felt it. It wasn't a conscious nor active action, seemingly only happening every so often when he was too distracted to hold back. It made your stomach cave in, only able to picture how those same hips would likely be hammering into you in just a few moments.

With only a few more seconds of exploring your cunt with his tongue, Minghao happily claimed your second orgasm, licking into you throughout the entirety of your high as he had done the previous time. This time, however, you pulled him away, silently encouraging him to make his way back to your lips and trapping him in a wet kiss.

He practically fed you your own juices, murmuring praise into your mouth as his hips began grinding into your sensitive cunt.

"You were so good for me, sweetheart."

"Tasted so good for me, fuck, taste just as beautiful as you look."

"Yeah? Too sensitive, baby? 'm sorry, angel. Couldn't help myself."

"Do you feel that? I'm- I'm gonna fuck you with that. Is that okay, beautiful? Hmm? You want it, huh?"

He took advantage of every whine and cry of his name that came after each statement, sucking into your tongue any time your mouth would open for him. His hips took no rest either, grinding directly against your swollen cunt as the zipper pressed up against you in such a painful yet pleasurable way.

Pulling away with a low chuckle at your whines in complaint, he threw off his pants and boxers, smiling down at the thirsty look in your eye upon seeing him.

"Want it, pretty?", he coo'd, bringing your hand up to his cheek and turning his face to kiss the back of your palm lovingly, "I'll give it to you, beautiful. Don't even have to do anything, just stay right there, okay, angel?", he said as he reached back to his pants, taking out a condom and wasting no time in putting it on.

He teased you no further, likely very sensitive himself after granting you two orgasms and dry humping you against his better judgment. You made him lose control, and you enjoyed it greatly despite being such a mess under him at that moment.

Entering you, he kissed you, swallowing your gasp of pleasure. He gave you a few moments before silently asking for permission to move, humping into you the moment you nodded in agreement.

As per usual, his gallantry showed once more as his hands found your own and intertwined above your head. His hips moved expertly yet at a pace that could only be described as sensual. The only time his hands left you was to remove your bra, but immediately went back to holding your hands while his lips found their way to your nipples, calling you every synonym of beautiful as he made love to you.

"Like you so much, beautiful," he breathed, his lips finding your own again, "Want to keep you all to myself. Can I? Wanna take you back home and- fuck, and introduce you to my parents," he rambled breathlessly as his hands wrapped around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer, "Wanna give you a ring and a house ... Make you a mom," he groaned at the mere mention, "Is it too soon? Just ... Like you so fucking much."

You wanted to reciprocate so badly, but your mouth would not emit any noise that wasn't an incoherent whine of his name. You opted for nodding enthusiastically, dragging your nails down his back as your orgasm approached.

Like the perfect man he was, he knew when to bring his fingers to your clit, causing your back to arch against him and rob you of the last bit of your voice that remained. You cried his name as your high arrived, gasping hiccups of pleasure that drew him into his own orgasm. Confessions of care and affection for one another were had, though no proclamations of love were made. That would come later, you were sure. Your shared words were enough for you to know the feeling was there.

He gave no time for you to move as he slipped out, throwing away his condom and tucking you next to him as he nuzzled against you whilst attempting to regain his breath. Kissed were laid against any bit of skin available to him, hands pressing you up against him.

"I'll clean you up and let you go pee in a second, just let me keep you for five minutes," he sighed with contentment.

"No complaint from me," you responded, equally in need of his affection, "We still have to talk about what you said, though," you giggled, earning a loving bite from him.

"I meant it," he mumbled, "I know it's soon, but I also know how much I like you. And I know you like me just as much," he said with certainty.

"You'll have to wait til at least the third date for further discussion about impregnating me," you joked, "But I'm not against it," you whispered the last part, earning a squeeze from him as he chuckled along with you.

"Go pee," he said when he finally separated from you, "I'll keep the bed warm for you and then I can finally give you that meal I made you."

Reluctantly, you got up, looking back at him from the bathroom door as he smiled with unfiltered happiness in his eyes.

You practically squealed with giddiness as soon as you closed the door, far too happy with today's events. Unbeknownst to you, Minghao had a similar reaction on the other side of that door.

to read short 2.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: newbf!minghao, idol!au, hao is down bad horribly, teasing from his members, afab reader, smut, body worship, very soft!!, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 755 (teaser); 2304 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"So, how long did you guys plan this?", you asked as you mindlessly toyed with Minghao's hair, his attention likely in another dimension.

"Since the first time you guys met," responded Mingyu nonchalantly, continuing to press at the buttons of his controller and paying you almost no mind. Similarly, his gaming partners Dokyeom and Wonwoo had their focus at least 90% on the screen rather than on the conversation.

"What, so years ago? We've only really known each other for like five months," you questioned, not believing your relationship with Minghao had truly been orchestrated by the three dummies sitting one couch away from you.

"Six months and two weeks," corrected Minghao lazily, humming at your fingers running through his hair.

"He knows the exact date? God, he's whipped. Kyeom was right about setting you guys up," commented Mingyu with a chuckle.

The conversation felt entirely one-sided, though you knew your friends had developed a finessed skill at gaming whilst still giving you just enough of their attention for a conversation.

Currently, you were the main character of the conversation at hand, seeing as Seokmin had let it slip that he and the rest of your friends had designed a plan play Cupid and form a relationship between you and Minghao. You believed them to be too disorganized and impatient for such a thing, but decided to question them regardless — for entertainment if for any reason.

"Oh, so now it was Seokmin's idea?", you asked with amusement, shuffling to the side of the couch when you sensed Minghao getting up from lying on your lap. Without much effort you morphed into another comfortable position, this time with your legs on top of Minghao's as he cuddled into you, face buried in your neck to nuzzle into your skin.

Your friends had gotten used to your couple-y disposition quite quickly, only gagging at the sight occasionally but never truly bothered by it.

"Yes, ma'am," responded Seokmin in a jokingly formal manner.

"How did this come about?", you continued with the questions while Minghao continued to remain completely disengaged in the conversation, his only interest being the quiet and occasional pecks he could land against your skin.

"Well, it was obvious he liked you from the first time we brought you back to the dorms," started Seokmin, having given up on beating his friends at the game and instead leaning back against the couch to converse with you as he watched the match play in front of him, "He was a little more shy back then, so he never said anything, not even to us," he continued up until you interrupted him.

"Wait, back when?", your surprise went unnoticed by Seokmin, but not by Minghao who subconsciously tightened his arms around you, now actively listening to the conversation.

"2016? Maybe 2017?," Kyeom wondered out loud, turning to Mingyu for confirmation and receiving a hum and a nod from both him and Wonwoo, "Yeah, late 2016, I think. Anyways," he continued, "We never said anything, but we all knew. We'd always try to get you guys in the same place, but he never budged. It wasn't til a few months ago when we mentioned you might be dating someone that Minghao decided to—"

The commotion from your side of the room prevented Seokmin from continuing, followed by the landing of a pillow to his face, resulting in a whine from the boy. Unexpectedly, Minghao had gotten up, pulling you up with him and accidentally causing a remote to fall in the process.

"Seokmin, shut up!", he demanded, a shade of red you'd never seen on him invading his ears while he attempted to avoid your widened eyes.

Three sets of eyes were set on you now, with some being amused while others confused. The game was mostly forgotten as they all stared at the usually quiet and put together Minghao make a commotion as he attempted to leave.

"We have to go, come on, babe," he urged, dragging you away from the room.

"But I wanna hear the end of the story," you let out as he pulled at your arm, not truly dragging you away but still struggling to convince you to leave. Giggling, you waved your friends bye as you finally allowed him to finally lead you out of the room, giving the guys a death stare to express his displeasure with them. It wasn't genuine anger, you could tell, but it was still amusing to see him embarrassed at his years-long crush being aired out.

...

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[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omega verse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, double-pen, gangbang kinda, tag-team

♡ fem reader

It’s been a month since your new owner brought you home, and despite expectations, you’ve yet to be eaten by the predators you share your den with. On the contrary, the six hybrids seem to have accepted you as their seventh pack member despite you being at the very bottom of the food chain.

You’ve come to trust that, despite the look of hunger in their eyes… food isn’t exactly what they have in mind. 

The hyena seems to be the only one your age. But he’s also a bit of a bully. Always goading you with ticklish poking until you stomp your feet and whine at him to stop. 

He never listens to you, though – he just cocks his head, finding it funny how you try giving him orders – only grinning as he pins you instead, chewing some on the lops of your ears while squeezing your cottontail – smirking and giggling at your pouty face getting all frustrated.

Your weak kicking is so cute, and so is how you try clawing at him despite having but blunt nails – he can’t help but laugh at the way it tickles him. 

It’s so painstakingly clear you’re not made to fight back, and it’s so adorable how you don’t even realize you already surrendered the moment you rolled over on your back with your belly up. 

It makes him go absolutely feral when you pull on his ears and mane, begging him to stop as he laves at your slit and clit, delving his long tongue deep within your walls until the tip prods your womb. It’s course against your skin and harsh on your insides and scratches your poor clit until it’s all swollen and throbbing for him – making you sob as his feral smile teases your chubby mound with a bite – only satisfied when you cum in his mouth.

But while the hyena enjoys play-fighting with you, the rest are more prone to fight each other…

The panther and leopard are good friends, whilst the fox and wolf seem to tolerate each other – and you don’t know whether it’s unfortunate or a blessing in disguise that both pairs only want you for themselves and often end up fighting over you.

You’d say the four are the most trigger-happy of the pack – always hissing and barking at each other. But everyone knows that cats and dogs don’t get along.

The canines are a little scarier, you think. They’re rougher with you.

The wolf especially. He’s older than you, a big heap of hulking muscles that bear down over you with the daunting superiority of a seasoned hunter. 

He doesn’t take lightly to you talking back to him – acting as though he’s actually offended when you so much as open your mouth if it’s not to swallow his tongue. Even if all you ask is for him to go a little slower, he’ll just growl at you – threatening your neck with fangs while chewing your collar – and otherwise ignore your cry completely. Calling you his bitch while telling you to quit your whimpering even though he’s been breeding you sore for the past hour, ramming your poor cunt so hard your muscles have all given out and left you to lie on the floor with only his paws keeping your hips upright.

He's always extra rough when you reek of cat – as though it’s your fault. Huffing and puffing as he now has to spend so much effort scenting you again.

It’s a never-ending war between them all. You go from camp to camp, getting marked again and again like territory, only for your owner to clean you up at the end of the day.

But the wolf is the worst. One time he’d gone so far as to piss on you… 

But he was later scolded by the owner – bonking his head with a rolled-up newspaper, telling him he had to learn to share or else he’d have to go sleep out in the doghouse. He’d also been told he had to stop breaking skin when biting you unless he wanted to be muzzled.

It only made him all the more grumpier. Growling in your ear that the one who ought to be muzzled is you and your snitch-mouth always crying wolf like some bitch who never learns her place – that next time you go talking to the owner, he’s going to eat you like the piece of meat you are.

You come to learn that he’s more bark than bite after a while. 

When you get used to him and his stamina, you stop crying and start holding onto him instead. And it’s when you’re burying your face in his neck and begging for his seed that he softens up for you.

He stops biting and starts sucking instead – laying hickeys all over your neck and chest, blushing with closed eyes when suckling your tits like a pup. You learn he’s a sucker for being called good boy and will wag his tail when you sit on his face. 

He’s also the one with the most owner-sickness of the pack, always clinging to you, growling when others get close, and never ever sharing when his turn.

He only begrudgingly allows the fox to eat his scraps afterward. 

You can only mew as he mounts you next. 

His tempo is always a bit of a shock – a bit juvenile, but who can blame him when he’s had to wait for so long? He’s a little younger than you – eager and desperate for it every single time.

Pounding you sharply – hard and fast with howls and heavy panting – even whimpering as you hold you tighter and tighter, squeezing you free of air as he savors the feel of your wet pussy clamping down around him.

He doesn’t growl too much when you whine. Instead, he laughs – elated and frenzied – eyes manic as he sticks his tongue as far down your throat as he can – drooling uncontrollably as he sinks his knot inside you and spills his worth inside your womb.

It’s a relief he doesn’t last as long as his bigger partner.

He’ll suck love-bites on the chubs of your cheeks as he unswells – lick all the sweat from your skin and come down by the sweet taste. Laying sloppy kisses all over your body and lapping over all bruises and soreness in gratitude – looking at you somewhat sheepishly with big puppy-dog eyes as though suddenly embarrassed that he’d been so feral.

The felines are less spastic. 

But they also like to lick you – with sand-textured tongues scraping at your fur and skin until they’ve made sure you’re coated with their scent. They seem to enjoy grooming more than anything, always snuggling with you.

But they get flirty, too… you’ll know when they start kneading your softer parts – blinking at you slow and expectantly until you return the favor.

They’re the same age and have known each other all their life, practically brothers, and do everything together as though they were a pair of Siamese – including when they mate with you. 

They’ll lay you down on one lean chest while the other is poised above you. Purring as they take turns with you – both so gently.

The panther always has a sly smile on his face when looking down at you – his claws retracted while he sticks his slender fingers inside your mouth to play with your tongue. He says it’s one of his favorite things about you – so soft and so silky, so different from theirs when you lick his skin.

It makes the leopard pout behind you, nuzzling you tight, his cheek to your cheek, asking the other if he doesn’t like it when he grooms him. 

The panther only smiles down at both of you, promising that he likes both your tongues until he proceeds to swap between which one of you he kisses.

When the leopard kisses you, he also admits he likes your tongue – whispering all depraved things that come to mind – loves how smooth it feels in his mouth and on his lips and neck and nipples and cock and balls.

Eventually, the heat gets to their heads, and their pointy ears start to droop, looking at you with such dark glossy eyes, opium-blown with pleasure and lust for more – kissing each side of your face, asking whether you won’t allow them both inside you at the same time – their pretty pleas making your head go silly, panting while nodding your head for them, bucking your hips stuck between the two while begging for both of them.

You feel their slim tails coil around each of your thighs as they sink inside your drooling heat together – their breaths deep and shuddering while they feel your tightness squeeze around them. 

They coo at you – telling you how perfect you look trapped between them like that – as their pretty little double-stuffed toy. And you’re too cock-drunk to do anything but agree.

After flooding you with cum, they go back to cuddling – sleeping – the both of them purring with lanky limbs all tangled on top of each other and you in the middle.

The bear is also a lazy fellow – a gentle giant. Something you’re grateful for – you don’t think you’d survive if he ever tried mounting and pounding you like the other boys.

He’s the eldest of the pack. Twice your age. You feel the seniority in his movements – all unhurried, savoring every second with a warm smile.

He’s satisfied with having you on his lap – cock-warmed by your tight bunny-cunt while you hand-feed him berries. You feel a little safer with him knowing you have the same appetite and that he isn’t thinking about eating you. 

He hums, a rusty sound that comes from his gut – telling you he likes seeing you eat – that it’s cute how you take such small bites – and the way your nose scrunches and your cheeks fill.

Sometimes he’ll tell you to hop on his lap – his massive warm paws placed on your haunches with large black claws gently denting the plush flesh found there, encouraging you as you ease up and down the great length that bulges from your belly. 

The size of it makes you pant.

You’re glad he���s happy having you at the end of the day – after you’ve been loosened up by the others. You fear he’d split you in two if otherwise.

The owner collects you before bedtime after everyone’s had their share – clips a leash onto your collar, and leads you to the bathroom – crawling on all four like an actual animal. You’ll often collapse halfway there, but he doesn’t mind scooping you up to carry you instead – always with a few patronizing words leaving him while mollycoddling you, almost speaking baby to you, telling you how proud he is of how domesticated you’ve become.

There’s always a bath waiting for you – a gift for being such a good little pet, he says. 

It reminds you of when you were first brought here, as he washes you with his own hands – rubbing the filth of spit, cum, and sweat from your sore limbs, messaging your flesh into nice limber softness again.

He’s always mumbling about human matters under his breath – money, business, estate – ruffling your hair when you give him a blank stare. Apologizing while saying he won’t trouble your pretty head with such complicated topics.

All you have to worry about is being his stress-relief – something clueless and dumb and dependent on him. You realize that without him needing to say it. It’s communicated through all the other things he says anyway.

He’s always whispering in your ear before bed – sweet nothings about what a good bunny you are – how you’re the cutest, softest, sweetest little thing in the entire world – telling you how much he loves you and how happy he is that you’re finally settling in – how you’ve become the most precious little housebroken pet for him.

It feels different when he touches you. The other hybrids make you feel small, but there’s a familiarity with them – something about being hunted fairly and squarely, like out in the wild. 

With the owner, you’re reminded you’re a pet eating out of his palm – something tame warming his bed at night with your leash tied to the bed frame.

He doesn’t fuck you with the same intent as the others do – there’s no rut behind his cold movements. It’s not mating or breeding. It’s something else you can’t put your finger on. Something human. Something alien to you.

Something in the way he has his hand fisting your leash as he sinks inside your heat – something in how he babies you, calls you cute when you shake and cum around his cock like you can’t control yourself.

It all makes you feel like some mindless animal.

Impulsive and primitive in comparison to him and his calculated thrusts and how he only cums inside you after you’ve all but begged him to breed you.

♡ part 1

Owner: ♡ BNHA - Aizawa, AFO ♡ JJK - Nanami, Kenjaku ♡ HQ - Ukai Hyena: ♡ BNHA- Shigaraki ♡ JJK- Mahito ♡ HQ - Tendou Wolf: ♡ BNHA - Bakugou, Dabi ♡ JJK- Sukuna, Naoya ♡ HQ - Sakusa Fox: ♡ BNHA - Denki, Kirishima, Deku, Amajiki ♡ JJK- Yuji, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ - Hinata, Nishinoya Leopard & Panther: ♡ BNHA - Denki & Shinso, Dabi & Hawks ♡ JJK - Geto & Gojo ♡ HQ - Miya twins, Oikawa & Kageyama, Kuro & Kenma Bear: ♡ BNHA - Enji, Aizawa, All Might, Mirio ♡ JJK- Toji, Nanami, Higuruma ♡ HQ - Daichi, Ushijima

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language; s.g.

synopsis: when gojo satoru first fell in love with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, gojo is head over heels (love at first sight), hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo just being an absolute fool in love, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: I've been wanting to create a sort of anthology series for some of my favs so here's a test run! I rlly wanna do lil drabbles/oneshots that can both be standalone but also can be read as something continuous revolving around Gojo's story with his soulmate... pls lmk if you'd like to see more of gojo and his mochi (aka you!)

Gojo Satoru didn't entirely know what love was; what with being raised by other people who weren't his actual mother and father, how could he? All he ever knew was a life of being the Honored One, since the day he was born. Nothing but a weapon. Living as the strongest and treated like a god... he never knew what real love felt like. He never knew what it was like to give or receive it. At least, not this way.

Geto Suguru and Ieiri Shoko were his best friends, the closest thing to real family. It wasn't like he didn't have any, at least not while growing up, but were they really family when all they ever did was train him and treat him like the eighth wonder of the world? Unlike everyone else, at least Suguru and Shoko treated him like a human. They loved him for who he was, but didn't hesitate to snap him into place when his ego was too inflated. They were there for him, even when expressing whatever demons that he held within him was hard to manage. If it wasn't for them, he wasn't sure exactly how he'd go about his life. Sure, he'd act like everything was fine and dandy, money could buy him happiness as he had plenty of it... and he was pretty much unstoppable, but the idea of living a life without either of them didn't sit well in his stomach.

So, sure, Satoru did now a bit about love, at least the love he felt for his best friends, but nothing like what he felt in this moment. The moment his eyes first fell on you.

He hadn't a clue as to who you were, only seeing you stroll along the grounds of Jujutsu High with your little uniform. The typical jacket, a skirt beneath, knee high socks, loafers... and your hair in a low ponytail that was held together by an overly large ribbon. Cute was the first thing that came to mind, along with the terrifying sound of his racing heart. Who were you? How come he had never seen you before? Maybe it was because he didn't pay attention to any one else besides a handful of people. He'd be lying if he said he was sure the technical college held more than five students. 

In the midst of sipping away at his little box of strawberry milk, walking alongside Suguru and Shoko, Satoru's eyes had aimlessly wandered along his environment as his two best friends had been discussing evening plans. It wasn't like him to care about what was going on around him, so it was quite the miracle that his eyes were looking anywhere but ahead of him... but, maybe this was destiny.

It felt like the world was suddenly moving slowly around him, rather dramatically like a movie. His lips parted as the tiny straw fell out of it, hidden gaze behind his circular frames becoming exposed as the glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. You looked so graceful, the afternoon sun beaming down on you, your smile as bright as his eyes... he had to have been in love. This had to have been love. What else could it have been? Why else was his heart fluttering so quickly? Why else was he caught in a daze by your beauty? No one else, not a single soul, ever caught his attention this way so you must've been his soulmate.

There was something about you, from your gorgeous hair, to the cute bow, down to the uniform and the way it suited your form to the way you... wait, were you laughing with... Nanami Kento? Gojo's heart stopped as his grip on the milk grew tight, causing the contents to squeeze right out and squirt all over his face.

The sound of laughter caught his attention as he quickly looked at his two best friends, embarrassment filling his face as he looked back at you to see you now looking in his direction. Quickly wiping his face and turning away to scold his best friends, Gojo tossed the now empty carton at Geto. "Shut up!"

"What the hell did you do?" Suguru shook his head, wiping his tears as his shoulders shook with every laugh that rumbled throughout his torso. "Losing your cool over a girl, huh?"

"I said shut up!" Satoru snapped, cheeks burning with heat, embarrassed that he was that obvious.

"Must've struck something in him for him to spill milk all over his face like the doofus he is," Shoko snickered as Suguru went for a high five.

Swatting their hands and glaring at the two, Gojo hissed, "nothing happened, I squeezed too hard."

"Right," the two said in sync before eyeing one another, smirking and stifling a laugh.

Shoving past them as he kept walking ahead, grumbling to himself, Gojo couldn't help but peak over in your direction. You had already turned your attention back to the two on either side of you—Nanami along with Yu Haibara. Since when did they have a friend that was a girl? And when did you appear? He should've known seeing as both were his junior and both trained quite close to Suguru and himself. So you must've been new... He supposed he'd find more out about you, knowing he'd find a way to get under Nanami's skin and get anything out of him. He must've known a lot about you...

Gojo smirked to himself. He'd get his way.

"No," Nanami spoke as he crossed his arms. The confidence in Gojo's face instantly fading away. He didn't even hesitate, cancelling his plans with his best friends to bribe Kento into giving him some information. He swore taking his junior to his favorite bakery would help him out, but, no! Kento, being the wise boy he was, took advantage of Satoru paying for food in a false exchange for information. "I'm not going to be your middle man."

"Why not?!" Gojo whined, throwing himself back in his seat dramatically. "Just one thing! Something! Anything! She's the love of my life!"

Narrowing his eyes as he sipped away at his water, Nanami settled the glass down before crossing his arms once again. "Love of your life? You don't even know her name—"

"Because you won't tell me!" Gojo cried, throwing his head back and stomping his foot as if he was about to throw a tantrum. "Please, please! I beg of you, tell me something about her! Besides her name, what's her favorite color? Maybe her favorite food? Or... or what's her favorite date spot!"

"Satoru, I am not about to ask her what her favorite date spot is," Nanami deadpanned. "I'll give you her name and that's all. Everything else is on you. I'm not going to play matchmaker, let alone, set you up with someone so far out of your league."

Gasping in offense, Gojo clutched his chest. "Out of my league? Sure, she's a pure angel, a real heavenly being, but I like to think I am, too!"

"Egotistical..." Kento mumbled as Gojo frowned. "I'm only telling you one thing to get you off my back. You can't ask me anything ever again in order to get close to her. That's on you."

Pressing his hands together and interlocking his fingers, Gojo gave his best puppy eyes as he jutted out his bottom lip. "Please, I promise to leave you be after!"

"You better," the blond man grumbled before giving his senior your name. "She likes to sit under the cherry blossoms on the eastern side of the campus. If you want to find her and talk to her, she's usually there on her down time." At that, Nanami stood up and tucked his seat back into the table. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped in his tracks, turning to face the white haired young man. "All I ask of you is to be... gentle. She's a nice girl. I don't need you breaking her heart."

Sitting up with confidence as a wide grin took over his face, Satoru nodded with his thumbs up. "Believe me, I wont! I know this is love!" Seeing Nanami roll his eyes before leaving, Gojo happily sighed before looking out the window. Leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, he eyed the cherry blossom that had petals delicately swaying in the wind. "She's my soulmate, I know we are destined to be."

[eiightysixbaby]

two-player

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

turns out it’s a great idea to screw around with your coworker (2.9k)

cw: 18+ only SMUT. mean!eddie, bratty reader (really they’re just stubborn idiots pining for each other), degradation on the low (eddie calls r some names), use of petnames, spanking, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, lmk if I forgot any!

“I can’t fucking stand you,” you hiss, your chest colliding with metal.

You can hear the metallic jangle of Eddie’s belt buckle coming undone, his free hand pressing hard into your back, keeping you bent over the hood of his van.

He’d been driving you up the wall the entire day, your shift at the arcade seeming to never end. You were at each other’s throats the entire time, spitting insults back and forth like children until Keith had told you to shut the fuck up and go home - he'd close up shop himself - and not bother coming back until you could figure your shit out.

You were seething, tension at an all time high between the two of you when you stomped after him out to the dark, empty parking lot. You aren’t quite sure how you got here, you just know it involved Eddie pressing you up against the back wall of the building, his tongue tangling with yours.

A dry chuckle erupts from deep in Eddie’s throat. “Sure, sweetheart. I’m not that fond of you, either.”

You gasp when his hands tug your shorts down, your panties coming with them in one swift, harsh motion. His ring-clad hand comes down to smack your ass, kicking your feet apart with a heavy boot.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, barely loud enough for you to hear it. His hands grope each cheek, spreading them to expose your tight little hole, the slick folds of your drenched pussy.

“Are you gonna keep ogling or actually do something, Munson?” you snark, letting out a startled squawk when he slaps your ass again.

“I’m gonna start by fucking that stupid little attitude right out of you,” he grits, gathering each of your hands and bringing your wrists together behind your back, holding them firmly. “Sound like a plan, sugar?” he asks, bending over your frame so that his mouth is inches from your ear.

You’re about to bite back when he swipes the middle and ring fingers of his free hand through your folds, rubbing back and forth through them.

“It’s real fucking cute,” he says, venomous, “that you wanna talk suuuch a big game, but here you are; getting soaked when I’ve barely even touched you.”

You shiver despite the heat of the night, craning your neck to try and get a better look at him. You try to shoot him daggers, but you’re aware you probably just look pathetic. It doesn't help that the fluorescent glow of the Palace Arcade sign was casting him in the prettiest oranges and blues, making him look ethereal.

He’s right, too. All the teasing, the arguing, the insults have done nothing but get you hot for him. You wanted to see how far you could push him, wanted to see if he’d cross into uncharted territory.

And cross he did.

He teases your entrance, swirling the pad of his finger around the slick hole, your back arching.

“Ed-dieee,” you whine, face going impossibly hot when you hear him laugh at you.

“What?” he asks, feigning nonchalance. “What do you want?”

You burn, jaw setting as he continues to tease you. “You know what,” you reply meekly.

“Do I? Hmm, I’m not sure. Nothing seems to be coming to mind…”

“Please,” you try, not wanting to have to say the words.

“Oh, so now you can be polite? That’s sweet, but I still wanna hear you say it,” he purrs. “Tell me what you want.”

Your jaw clenches, wanting to tell him off but thinking better of it. He won’t give you anything if you push him too hard. It’s harder than it should be to get the words out of your mouth, feeling petulant in your reluctance to tell him what you need.

“I want…” you say, exhaling sharply. “I want your fingers inside of me.”

“Oh, is that it?” he replies, and you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s got a shit-eating grin plastered on that stupid face of his.

You nod, cheeks inflamed with humiliation. Nevertheless, your core throbs for him, a deep ache that needs to be satiated.

“Eddie…” you whine, so softly, as if you don’t want him to hear it.

But he does. “So needy,” he taunts, fingers continuing to tease your entrance. He draws circles around it, three times before finally giving in.

Two fingers intrude, pushing in to the knuckle. You inhale sharply, jaw hanging slack when his fingers start to curl. The sick squelching sounds he draws from your cunt are enough to make him swear under his breath, a muttered, “Fuck, so wet.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, it’s clear this isn’t his first rodeo. His fingers fuck you with a precision you haven’t known before. You’d secretly assumed that he’d be good, but this is mind-blowing.

If his fingers feel this good, you have to know how his cock feels.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, you’re cumming around his thick digits, cream pooling around his rings.

“That’s it, baby, fuck. Such a god damn whore, cumming so quick,” he bites, but you can hear the condescension wavering in his tone.

You don’t say a word, your brain fuzzy, like the static on a television. Behind you, Eddie’s pulling his cock free from his boxers, and you can hear the rustle of movement when he shoves the clothing down his thighs.

One big hand reaches around to your face, palm open and waiting.

“Spit,” Eddie rasps, and your breath catches in your throat. It takes you a moment too long to compute for his liking. “Did I fucking stutter? Spit.”

You oblige, spitting in his hand, coating it with your saliva. You turn as best you can to watch him stroke his cock with his now slick palm, and a mewl escapes you at the sight of him. His cock is thick and glorious, the tip pink and leaking. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, meeting Eddie’s dark eyes.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he asks, smug.

You almost retort with something snarky, but there’s a part of Eddie’s expression that says he really wants your approval. There’s a part of you that simply wants to give him whatever he wants.

“Mhm,” you nod. “It’s so big, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he hisses.

He steps closer, pressing the head of his cock against your core. You whine, feeling yourself clench around nothing in desperate anticipation to take him. You bite down on your lip when he presses in, teeth sunk hard into the soft skin, fighting back the moan that threatens to break loose. It shouldn't feel this good, he's barely started fucking you, yet your entire body feels like a live wire.

Your hands clench into fists where he holds them behind your back, nails digging into the heels of your palms as he fully sheathes himself inside of you. A sharp whine is punched from your throat against your will, his cock splitting you open wide. His left hand digs into the curve of your hip, bracing himself as he starts to thrust at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Eddie, c'mon,” you say, desperate for him to fuck you fast, hard.

“Hm?” he hums, snapping his hips against your ass in a punctuated thrust.

You curse, letting the side of your face rest on the hood of his van. There's a tantalizing, slow drag of his cock pulling back out, making your body feel like it's on fire. You can feel how wet you are, the slick warmth beginning to drip down your inner thighs. The slight humiliation of the way Eddie has you exposed and vulnerable, the way he has you in the palm of his hand, makes your head spin and your skin burn.

Unable to take his devious pace, you huff in frustration. “Please, Eddie. Stop going so slow.”

His fingers squeeze, mean, into the meat of the junction where your hip meets your ass. “You're just never satisfied, are you?”

“I'm not fucking playing, Eddie. Come on. Are you gonna fuck me good or what?”

His nostrils flare, though you don’t see it. If you want to play this game, fine.

“You’re gonna regret that attitude when you can’t even walk during your shift tomorrow,” he snarls, bending his body over yours so that he’s speaking into your ear. “Don’t be a bitch.”

And you hate it — god, you hate it. The way his words go straight to your cunt, the way your walls squeeze his cock in desperation.

You whine in spite of yourself, cheeks going hot when you hear a triumphant puff of air leave Eddie’s nose.

He lets go of your wrists, a dull ache lingering where his fingers had wrapped around them. Both hands free, he grips each of your hips, holding you steady. He pulls his thick cock almost completely out of your needy pussy, before ramming entirely back in. A sharp moan is forced from your lungs, your hands trying and failing to find good purchase against the smooth surface of his van’s hood. Eddie gives you no time to adjust to his new tempo, falling into a quick pace seamlessly. Hands splayed flat on the metal, you prop yourself up on wobbly arms, your limbs feeling like goo.

Eddie’s a pro, his hips bucking against your ass with each deep stroke, the head of his cock pressing firmly into your sweet spot each time. This definitely isn’t his first time, and as good as it feels, it makes you a little bit jealous to think of some other girl in your position. You want him wrapped around your finger, begging on his knees for you and only you.

“Damn, sweetheart, this pussy was fucking made for me,” Eddie purrs. “Think she's been craving my cock for a while,” he says, squeezing your hips harder, the chunky rings on his fingers pressing almost painfully into the soft skin.

You let out a strangled whine, your legs feeling like they're on fire as he fucks you into oblivion. It's taking everything you have to stay standing, and his vulgar words only make your knees more weak.

“Come on, baby, tell me,” he goes on, his voice dropping an octave, husky and raw. “Tell me how long you've been waiting for this.”

Your teeth tug at your lip, embarrassed to reply. He's got you cornered, completely figured out, but admitting your secret desires for him is giving in to his ego.

He pulls his cock all the way out, the weeping tip nudging at your entrance. You whimper pitifully at the absence of him, and he tuts in disapproval.

“Ah-ah,” he leans in close again, the heat of his body over yours making you feel like molten lava. “You don't get what you want if you don't behave,” he speaks slowly, his hot breath on your ear. He rubs the tip of his cock through your folds, taunting you. “Tell me how long you've wanted me. How many nights you've spent with your fingers inside that poor, tight little cunt, wishing they were mine instead.”

You quiver at his command, your pussy throbbing for him as he continues to tease. You'd wanted him for far too long; moaned his name into the empty stillness of your bedroom on late lonely nights; fantasized about the softness of his mouth and the roughness of his hands; stared at him any chance you got at work when he wasn't looking. Or at least, you thought he wasn't looking.

You inhale shakily, Eddie's breathing audible behind you.

“I-I've wanted this for so long. Wanted you for so long. Since I started working here, since before then-” you whine, your voice high-pitched and pleading, begging him to give you what you want now that you've relented.

“Do you think of me?” he coos. “When you touch this pretty pussy?”

“Yes, Eddie. It's always you, always you,” you confess, gasping when he presses the head of his cock inside your aching walls.

“That’s right, baby. No one else could make you feel this good.” He slowly fills you, the sticky glide of his cock as it nestles deep making your brows furrow and your eyes shut tight.

He stills once he’s fully inside again, your breathing shallow as you anticipate his movement. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, surprising you, but in an instant he’s drawn back, standing upright where you can’t reach those plump lips you so badly long to kiss. Without warning he falls into a quick pace, fucking you harder than before, better than before, if at all possible.

“God. Y'know, sweetheart,” he says, breaking the white noise of the night around you. “It drove me fucking crazy how I could never get you out of my head. No matter what I did, couldn't stop thinking about you,” he continues, grunting with the effort of his thrusts. “You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thought of you,” he says, teeth gritted as he presses against your sweet spot. “Sometimes I'd even come out here and do it on my breaks, just couldn't fucking handle being around you. I've been dying to have you, for so long.”

Your jaw goes slack at his words, a silent moan frozen as you process it. All along it hasn’t just been you with a secret fantasy, no; he’s been right there with you the whole time. In another moment, a different scenario, you'd play back every too-long glance or lingering touch he'd given you in a different context, but right now he's making your head too fuzzy to think that hard.

“Eddie-” you pant, unable to continue. Words swirl in your brain but fail to form a coherent sentence, and you can only hope he's possessed a sudden ability to read your mind. That he can detect how much his words are affecting you.

You're soaking his cock, making each thrust slippery and smooth. You can hear the sick sounds of his balls slapping against your skin, your cunt squelching each time his cock fucks entirely into you.

“I'm, I'm gonna-” you stammer, voice shaky as you teeter on the edge.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. I've been waiting so long for it,” he commands, his voice a low rumble.

His movements don't falter, fucking you even as your legs shake and your walls clench hard around him, over and over. Your cries are incessant, moans and curses of his name into the black hole of twilight that surrounds you. His movements grow sloppier, his previous precision dwindling. Your body grows overstimulated quickly, each drag of his cock setting your insides ablaze.

“Shit, where do you want me to cum?” he asks, sounding nothing like he did before. An almost nervous edge to his tone, his cocky facade crumbling.

“Inside, Eddie, inside,” you rush out, your mouth parting in a gasp when he instantly spills inside of you; not a moment of hesitation.

His cock twitches, a quiet, drawn-out groan leaving his lips. His thrusts slow to an exhausted halt, his breathing ragged with effort.

Your surroundings seem to blur at the edges as you come back to some semblance of reality. He pulls out slowly, your cunt tightening once as if in attempt to keep him inside forever. You don't speak, too afraid that if you do, the whole moment will shatter. That everything he had said would turn out to be a lie, that this was all some joke, something he could hold over your head for the rest of forever.

You stand up straight, your back still towards him, bending to pull your pants back up. You hear him do the same, heavy breaths puffing out of his nose.

“You okay?” he asks finally, waiting for you to look at him, to speak, anything.

You take a shaky breath, relaxing yourself. “That depends,” you reply, turning to face him. You try your best to sound collected, unsure of how well you're really doing after the way he just ruined you.

“On?” He quirks a brow.

“Whether or not you were telling the truth. When- when you said you've been wanting me all this time.” Your voice comes out far breathier than you'd wanted, but you hold your ground, your face emotionless as you await his response.

Eddie's brows shoot up momentarily before softening, an expression you don't see on him often.

“Sweetheart,” he purrs, a hand reaching out to grab your waist, pulling you up against him, chest to chest. Your heart pounds and you wonder if he can feel it. “You have me in the palm of your hand,” he murmurs, leaning down to speak right into your ear. “I was just too much of a bitch to admit it.”

Goosebumps raise on your skin, your lips parting in a pleasant surprise at his statement. He draws back, deep brown eyes meeting yours.

“Well,” you say, still shaky. “I'm glad we got this sorted out, then.”

Eddie laughs, big and boisterous, so unlike that mean one he'd used before. It makes your heart swell, you want to reach out and grab his face, kiss him till he's breathless and reeling.

“Guess we could both stand to stop being so stubborn, huh?” he asks, tilting his head to the side with a cheeky grin.

“Me? Stubborn? I'm not sure what you're talking about, Munson.”

His eyes narrow, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “I could go for round two right now, baby. Don’t test me.”

You crack, breaking into a laugh. “I’d actually really like to be able to walk during my shift tomorrow, and my chances of that are already slim, so can I take a rain check?”

He snorts, a playful roll of his eyes accompanying it. “Sure. A rain check. Just let me know when and where.”

“Preferably not in this parking lot.”

“Noted.”

[mysicklove]

CW: reader sucking nanamis dick lol, me playing up nanamis old manness bc i am picturing him as a middle aged man, no power dynamics, nanami cums on your face n realizes he may have a kink, reader is ":3" coded, unedited for now bc i need sleep

a/n: wrote this cause im down bad. not written well tho LOL

"Are you sure you like this? I dont want your jaw to hurt..." Nanami questions, furrowed browed as he gently traces the skin near your temple.

You were kneeling in front of him, hands placed on his thighs and grinning at him. "I want to. I really, really want to. Been thinking about it all day."

"You are quite eager."

"Arent you?" Your eyes trail to cock in your hand, completely hard and flushing a shade of red. His work attire was still on, and you just unbuttoned his pants enough so that only his dick was free. You had a thing for the work attire - you couldnt help it, he looked incredibly good in a suit.

In return, Nanami just rubs at his mouth, not denying it. Then he pets your hair, settling in his chair. "Okay, but I wont be mad if you grow uncomfortable."

You rolls your eyes at him, pressing your cheek against his cock. "You coddle me too much. I will not die from sucking dick, Kento."

He stays quiet at this, just silently brushing your hair back into his palms, holding it away from your face. It was polite, all things considering. You smile at him, while your tongue drags from the base of his cock to the tip.

You continue to prep yourself, licking and gently kissing the shaft, while Nanami watches in silence. Then, you put your mouth over him and begin to suckle the tip. A sigh is let out from the man, and he resists the urge to shut his eyes, wanting to watch the lewd sight.

Your head find a steady motion - bobbing up and down until you gag and pull off. He pretends that the sound doesnt turn him on, feeling bad that something uncomfortable for you sends blood rushing to his groin.

When you pull away, slightly panting, he rubs at your lips, now coated in saliva. "Are you okay?"

"You're doing it again, Kento. I am not a child - I've sucked other mens dick before."

He blinks at this, before frowning and forcing you back on his cock by your hair. But, when he heard your giggles from below, he realized quickly that you only said that to tease him. He sighs at that, shaking his head. "Do you like making me upset?"

You hum around his cock, letting drool purposefully fall from your mouth and down till it reached his balls - it was always bettter when it was sloppier, or so you have heard. But, you pull away quickly to answer him, tilting your head to the side so that you can continue to lick his shaft.

"Kinda fun to - you get this look in your eyes. Its weirdly sexy seeing you mad."

His non dominant hand goes back to caressing the skin on your face and his eyes soften. "I would never actually be mad at you."

You make eyecontact with him as you stick your tongue out and swirl it around the redden tip, ignoring the salty taste of pre. Then you give the head another kiss, pressing your nose against it. "I know. You're too soft around me. Its cute, I dont mind it."

"I'm glad," he breathes, and then he pauses, gulping, and looking away, "Then if you dont mind, can you go a little farther down? If its not too uncomfortable, of course."

You obey with little hesistation, mouth coming closer to the dark patch of hair on his lower abdomen. This time he groans out, and cant help but shut his eyes at the warm feeling of your throat. You try your best to focus, but seeing your lovers face contort with pleasure was too pretty to not watch.

His hips move from his chair, slightly bucking into your mouth like he couldnt control them. It makes a lewd noise in the back of your throat, and he groans hearing it. You continue your movements, and with each moment, his cock gets wetter from the amount of saliva coated on it.

Large, callused finger tips run over your neck, feeling the way his dick creates a small bulge, and he lets out a shaky breathe. "Fuck. Wow, you are something. Doing so well, thank you, thank you, fuck."

Tears are beggining to prick at your eyes from the lack of air, but still you try your best to nod at him, even if the action sends him groaning out again.

He was growing overheated from the whole thing, and you watch as he removes his tie and unbuttons the top part of his shirt. The sight makes you slightly moan, and it sends a vibration up Nanami's spine.

When you pull away for another breathe, he lets out a noise close to a whine, and you hold back a chuckle. "Looks whose the one eager now." You tease, and his cheeks pinken slightly as he looks away.

"You really treat me so well."

"You think I am good at sucking dick?"

A lewd way to put it, and Nanami wouldnt phrase it like that, but alas, he nods his head, before guiding you back onto his cock. You in return laugh, and immediately go back to work.

With each bob of your head, he gets more into it, now slightly pushing you down farther by your hair. You don't mind it, and Nanami begins to pant from the pleasure, deep and breathlessly. The sound only spurs you on.

It doesnt take much longer for his abdomen to tighten up, and the feeling of his orgasm to approach. You could tell he was close to coming, even without a warning from the way his grunts seem to grow louder. So you continue your pace, trying your best to hold out without a breathe until he cums down your throat.

But, to much of your suprise, he pulls you off from him by your hair. You try to protest, wanting him to cum in your mouth, but he simply grabs at his cock with his other hand and pumps it a couple of times before aiming it at your face.

Cum shoots out of the wet head, and you are forced to shut one of your eyes as the white liquid lands on your upper cheek and eyelid. The rest lands on a multitude of places on your face, causing you to squint your one opened eye. He groans the entirity of it, and so you let him cum all over your face, finding the noise cute.

But when he is done, you simply wipe off your eyes, leaving the rest for now, and blink up at him with a small frown. "You know it would be alot cleaner if you would have came down my throat."

Nanami just stares at you, eyes scanning your face. Then, you notice the tint of red that danced on his cheeks and ears. Your face lights up at the realization. "I knew you had some sort of kink. You're not as vanilla as I thought, Kento! Who would have thought cumming on my face would do it for you."

"You just look...so pretty like this." A laugh falls from your lips, as your eyes travel back to his cock that was beginning to harden again. Now, it was time for the real deal - you almost squeal in excitement as you drag him to the bedroom.

[misstycloud]

Yandere cowboy x fem.reader

Yandere! Cowboy who’s the towns sweetheart. How can he not be? He helps every troubled soul he comes across, doesn’t matter who they are. He works hard every day to easy the load of providing for the family, he’s not a child anymore, of course he’ll do anything he can to help out! Besides, who wouldn’t fall for those muscles and pearly smile? You’d be crazy if you didn’t.

Yandere! Cowboy who you meet the first day of your ‘vacation’ to stay at your grandparents. Your parents though you’d been acting up the last weeks so they decided it was best to send you away for the summer, much to your dismay. Now you’d have to text your friends that you can’t hang out at all. Damn it. Being forced to stay in a in-the-middle-of-nowhere town definitely wasn’t your top priority. There was practically no service and nothing to do all summer. You’ll be bored out of your mind unless you manage to find something to entertain you. Luckily, there does appear to be something worthy of your attention- or rather, someone. It’ll certainly make things more interesting.

Yandere! Cowboy who you think is kinda cute, if not a little weird. He’s no doubt very different compared to the boys in the city- speaking in that special accent, wearing worn overalls, sweat at his forehead everytime you meet and practical thinking above all else. Still, you find yourself intrigued by his contrasting personality.

Yandere! Cowboy who is enchanted by you. You’re just so….wonderful. Funny enough, he also thinks you’re different, which interests him. Normally, he isn’t the type to brag and is quite humble, but he isn’t blind. He can see the way the girls in town drool over him. He knows he’s attractive. But you, you don’t fall over your feet whenever you gets a glimpse of him. You don’t stutter over every word while talking to him- in fact, you’re as cool as a cucumber. It almost seems like you’re flirting with him.

Yandere! Cowboy who notices you way your eyes sparkle when you speak of your interests. He starts thinking about the way you sound when laugh, how you pout when you’re frustrated and what you look like when you’re sad. It’s all beautiful. You are beautiful. Soon, it’s not only that he focuses on. Now, every time you’re walking ahead of him, he pays attention to the curve of your ass, how your hips sway when you walk, and suddenly he finds himself having to adjust his pants.

Yandere! Cowboy who you enter a special relationship with. You’re more than friends but less than actual lovers- that’s how you see it at least and you believed that’s what yan! Cowboy wanted, too. You two spend all your free time together in each others arms and going on cute dates around town and in the forest.

Yandere! Cowboy who wishes to marry you. You’re his perfect match! It must be fate that you ended up in their little town. He’d give you a big beautiful ring- he’s saved up quite a bit during his years of working, so he can easily afford it- and let you have whatever wedding you imagine. He’d make sure it’s exactly how you want it. Then, he’ll personally build you a house. Of course, before he starts working on that, he’ll need to know if you want a porch, what kind of shutter you want and what colour should the exterior be, would you like a fireplace?

Yandere! Cowboy who can’t believe it; you’re leaving? You say that summer is over and you don’t have to stay there with your grandparents anymore. You almost seem…relieved. No, that can’t be it. You love him! Right? Or was the connection he felt just one-sided?

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to catch feelings for me or anything. I just wanted to have fun, pass the time y’know.

“So I didn’t meant anything to you? Not even a little bit?…”

“I do like you. But I live in the city and my stay here was never going to be permanent. Like I said, I’m sorry it got a little too serious.”

“…….”

“Yeah, I gotta go now. I wish you well though, see ya.”

Yandere! Cowboy who spiraled after you left. You’ve dug yourself too deep in him. He can’t imagine going on about his life like you never existed. He thought you could be happy there, even if wasn’t like the big city you were used too, but that was clearly not the case.

If he had to uproot his life and move to be with you, then so be it. He wonders if you’ll be happy to see him again.

[tiyoin]

having jade be the love sick twin instead of floyd is SUCH a mega brained idea

(i’m def gonna reblog & add more to this because i’m tired & sleepy 🥱 )

because what’s better than flustered floyd than a flustered jade??!

trying to keep his calm and composure whenever in your presence, meanwhile floyd and azul both look at him in confusion because ???

jade what the hell?? total 180 (to them)

no one else noticed jade’s… differences when he starts ‘liking you’ (if one could call it that. jade is.. just as unique as floyd is so no one quite knows the story with him)

but jade will sometimes.. for a better use of words- lag, when confronted with a complex scenario (you asked him for his opinion on something and jade doesn’t know whether to be truthful or ‘truthful’)

jade will be the type to… keep an eye out for you whenever you pop up into his mind. like he’ll suddenly become conscious and discreetly scan the room and when you’re not there he simply moves on with his task(s)

that’s if you’re not there HOWEVER

if you are there, then he’ll lag for just a second, eyes on you as he scans you up and down, vision focused for on your face for half a second before he politely clears his throat and goes back to the task at hand.

jade leech is a enigma. plain and simple. floyd leech and azul ashengrotto have never seen jade give a person that kind of look before.

it’s kind of a 🤨🤨 scenario with the 2 of them. because they also pause and give each other a look (when they catch jade’s habit that is, it goes on for a while before the two catch on. he has his secrets, and so do they☺️ (if he wanted them to catch wind of it or if he just did it unconsciously and they were lucky enough to catch it- we’ll never be known))

but now they know something is up with the vice house warden and they were going to pry and manipulate their way into knowing WHAT was going on.

their suspicions only heighten when they see jade hesitantly looking at you during the second and first year classes were teing up for the day. everyone is was bustling around the classroom in search of a suitable partner for this section’s potionology project. jade, cute as feral dog was glancing at you nervously as you got swarmed by first years. it was probably the most nervous they’ve ever seen jade! (jade in question :) )

‘he’s so cute 🙈’ floyd says to azul as he sees jade float by your noisy circle. he tries opening his mouth to speak to you but your friend pulls you in another direction while the eel sulks away.

in comes floyd!! who not a minute later grabs his twin’s shoulder, dull dozes through your friends and presents you with two new partners! azul as witness, has never seen a crowd disperse as fast or jade jaw clench as hard as you looked at the pair wearily.

jade is not happy right now.

all he wanted to do was follow his meticulously crafted plan to get you to become closer and trusting with him so he could steal your heart. 😠

is that so bad?!?

azul advisors him to word it better because yes jade, that does sound bad… :|

jade definitely gives me the vibe that he’d tell floyd to ‘shut up’ under his breathe whenever you were around because we all know the shit stirring floyd does. and it gets awkward for a moment before one of them expertly moves everyone onto the next conversation.

ACTUALLY- what if floyd begs crewel to make the 3 of you (leeches + a shrimp) into a group!! this way jade can get closer to you, and floyd gets his entertainment! perfect plan! great job floyd!!😸

jade punches him when back at the dorm

SIGHHHH jade fiddling with his fingers trying to talk with you while absolutely chaos erupts in the lab. floyd’s causing shit, adeuce and grim are being maniacs and MAYBE having sebek epel and kalim in a group wasn’t exactly a great idea but at least jamil is with azul and ortho-

good lord they’re making out (jamil and azul) okay uh.

so jade is awkward, yet smooth in my opinion. MY OPINION (gotta keep adding that for chronically online people, yes this is a call out. yes you’re chronically online. anyways) jade has a habit of tucking his hair behind his ear when nervous or whenever he tries to distract himself form something else.

so for floyd to see jade repeatedly tuck his strip of black hair behind his ear, it’s going to raise some alarm bells.

yes you’re on his radar because he knows jade likes you but seriously??? floyd never knew jade to be serious with ‘crushes’- if you could even call them that.

no.

they’re more like ‘infatuations’ which he quickly gets over within a week or two (maybe a month if it’s bad) but’s it’s been 2 months. two. and jade is still trying to approach and possibly court you????

yes he approaches you when azul needs something or when you’re summoned to the lounge… but on his own? for his own schemes? yikes.

i like to think jade is bolder yet shyer than floyd. he’s shyer in the beginner while floyd is bolder while jade is bolder in the ‘end’ while floyd is shyer in the end. so cute 😸

meanwhile you’re confused as to why jade leech is becoming a.. reoccurring guest star in your life as of late. he’s in the library when you are, he’s your waiter at the lounge whenever you’re there, and he’s requesting to be your partner whenever the chance arises. (not often due to grade differences, but it’s happened enough times to make you suspicious)

no one believes you when you say jade will sometimes stutter, or his face would show a twinge of flushing- EVEN when he gives you something, ie: borrowing a pencil- for free.

jade leech.

offering a pencil. for free. no charge. no favors…

you’re confused as to why jade leech is hovering around you all of a sudden. like night and day you suddenly have a body guard on you for half of the day. he would always just be… there.

jade says he’s playing the long game and WILL wife you up while floyd’s calling him a stupid cuck for letting people flirt with you in front of him.

jade merely shrugs and tells him he clearly hasn’t been in love before and will only understand when he is in love himself. of course that pisses floyd off (or he doesn’t care, im not sure) but when jade walks away, he walks away with a new determination about him. he’s gonna wife you up BAD.

jade leech is nothing but patient and will slither his way into your heart just as you did his.

[arcaneauthor]

Skz reacting to you kissing them in front of the other members

Warnings: um some kissing ig? Nothing else really

Tags: established relationships, kissing, so much fluff, seungmin being a little menace like always, I think that’s it

A/n: have this while you wait for my long hyunjin one shot! Also I just started writing skz and don’t fully know how to write their personalities yet so pls be kind🙏

────୨ৎ────

Chan:

I kinda feel like this would be a normal thing for y’all?

Like you would frequently come by the studio while skz is recording to visit him

And you’d always end up giving him a little hello and goodbye kiss

It was always just a peck but you’d think you two were full on groping each other by the way the members start gagging and groaning

They honestly should be used to it by now but they just can’t help but tease their dad leader

Mainly seungmin

“Ew you like kissing old men?”

But Chan’s used to it by now and just rolls his eyes and focuses back on his work

But he can’t hide the smile on his face

He kinda likes when the members tease him, it really makes them feel like family

Minho:

Would definitely turn it into a spectacle

Ik he doesn’t normally like skin ship from the other member that much so many people think he wouldn’t like pda from the reader but I think it’d be quite the opposite

Like I feel like he’d be the type that would grab you and pull you in closer when you try to just give him a peck in the dorm

Like we’re talking turning it into a full on make out session

And he’s fully aware the members are there, that’s partly why he does it

He thinks it’s kinda funny to get a reaction out of them

I feel like there’d be a mix array of both groaning an wolf whistling from the others

Either way he’d just throw a middle finger to the members over his shoulder as he smirks into the kiss

Changbin:

I actually kinda feel like changbin would be a little embarrassed

Like at first he’d kinda forget the other members are there and kinda get into it

And then when he’d hear the reaction from the members he’d pull away with a little blush on his cheeks

Would have that cute little embarrassed smile that he does as he lowers his head a little as he murmurs a “shut up” to the members

(If you’re a stay I feel like you definitely know which smile I’m talking about)

Would totally never admit to anybody that he was blushing

Like the other members maybe Chan would tease him like “aw binnies embarrassed”

And changbin being his loud self would be like “HUH? YOU THINK ID GET EMBARRASSED OVER SOMETHING LIKE THIS?”

Like my mind immediately went to that men in colorful pants vlive he did with Chan and Han when he was yelling at chan for calling him out on rapping his line too fast and he was like “YOU THINK I RAPPED FAST CAUSE I WAS NERVOUS?” Lol

Just imagine him saying it like that if you’ve seen that live

Jisung:

This man would be SHOOK

Like I’m talking about pulling away like he’s been BURNED

Quokka cheeks are flaming red

Why do I almost feel like this man would let out a surprised yelp as if you’ve just attacked him lmao

Looks between you and the members with wide eyes like “did that really just happen?”

unlike with the others I feel like the members wouldn’t make teasing comments towards you guys

They’d just be on the floor ROLLING at Han for getting so flustered

And even though you were the cause of it he’d still hide his face behind you to escape his embarrassment

Hyunjin:

Feel like he wouldn’t get too into the kiss knowing the others are there

But also would definitely lean into you a bit

For some reason I just feel like hyunjin would be an amazing kisser

I mean have you seen those luscious lips??

Anyways that’s a story for another fic lol I’m getting distracted

like Chan I’d feel like he’d get his sassy eye roll going on when the members made a comment

With how much it seems that hyunjin and seungmin play around with each other seungmin would definitely tease the shit out of him

And hyunjin would give him that signature bombastic side eye

I feel like seungmin would keep it going to the point of hyunjin just eventually standing up to literally pounce on him

Seungmin would just be laughing like a maniac the whole time

Felix:

I actually feel like Felix wouldn’t be as embarrassed as you’d think

Like Ik he’s a smol bean but down deep I feel like Felix is actually pretty confident

Not in a cocky way but like he’s sure of himself yk?

Like I feel like he’d just smile into it

Turns it into a bit of a longer but still soft and sweet kiss

Just completely ignoring the noises from the members in the background

Like I think he’d just be in his own little world with you

After y’all pull away he just pulls you to sit facing forward on his lap and hugs you from behind

Has THE brightest smile on his face as he does it

Seungmin:

I kinda feel like seungmin wouldn’t like you giving him pda

Not like to the point of getting angry or anything

But I kinda feel like he’d pull an “ew” face lol

(And I don’t mean this as being bad or anything, I myself don’t really love pda so I get it lol)

But you probably do it to just playfully annoy him

Which is why you’d probably be giggling with the members at him

“I hate you guys” but he’d say it with a smile on his face so you knew he wasn’t actually upset about it

He’d probably give you a long kiss later in his room to make up for it

Jeongin:

He wouldn’t go as far as to immediately yank away like jisung

But he’d definitely be a shy baby

Ik he looks all grown up and stuff these days but I feel like little baby bread is still under there somewhere lol

Like his eyes would widen mid kiss when he really processes that you’re kissing him in front of everyone

The members wouldn’t so much as tease him like with the others as they would moan and groan about seeing their little maknae doing “adult stuff” lol

Poor thing would definitely turn red, covering his face with his hands as he sunk down

Would honestly be wishing the couch would just swallow him up

Probably wouldn’t make eye contact with you for the rest of the night because he’d just start immediately blushing lol

Also would probably keep his distance cause anytime your hands so much as touched the members would tease him about y’all making sure you weren’t “moving too fast”

End notes: well I officially finished this at 5am lmao. Guess I better head to bed🫡

[seelestia]

✧ the gambler and his knight.

aventurine can't stand having his outfit exposed to the elements nor to the rude hands of clients that won't cooperate – luckily for him, he has you to take care of it all. { aventurine with a bodyguard!reader. }

⎯ fluff & angst. 2.9k wc. headcanons w/ some written scenes. the plot is vv subtle but it's there a.k.a aventurine simps for you (jokingly) but you both end up catching feelings (not jokingly). mentions of violence, death & russian roulette. pre-penacony timeline. a self-indulgent piece to celebrate this blog's 2nd anniv! ★

★ 〜 masterlist.

© seelestia on tumblr, june 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

aventurine who graciously welcomes you under his employment with a game. just a little something to ease your nerves and get you used to his ways. you look at him with such incredulity as if he just fell and hit his head silly. he pays no mind to this – finds it to be amusing a great deal, actually. keep it up, newcomer!

“heads or tails?” he asks, flipping a coin in the air and catching it seamlessly. a routine for him, you would've figured from the sight. “that's. . . an odd way of saying hello,” you point out but your tone bears no hint of protest. he notices that.

“i've heard that one before,” aventurine tilts his head with a smile, nonchalant. “so what's your guess?”

“tails,” you reply without any delay. it's a mindless answer; getting it wrong this way would prove to bear less disappointment compared to putting actual thought in it. “heads for me then,” he whistles.

aventurine opens his palm. it's heads. you frown as if to suspect foul play—but you don't because you know about his notoriously good luck—and your new boss chuckles, almost placatingly.

“looks like i win,” he grins without a care in the world at all. “aren't you starving? let's fetch ourselves a meal, friend.”

a loss rewarded with a prize? you blink. with grace so in contrast to the whiplash you feel, aventurine walks past you with a trail of expensive perfume in his wake. obviously, he expects you to follow and you do after a moment's reluctance.

(this guy is more confusing than the stellaron.)

aventurine who grows quite fond of seeing you acquiesce to his wishes, whether serious or trivial. could you ward off those reporters? could you pour him a drink? could you play a game of poker with him? could you join him for lunch? you're always so professional that he starts to find some mirth in pushing your buttons (never too much). unlucky for you, he does it to be affectionate and lucky for him, you always say yes even if you roll your eyes every single time.

aventurine who trusts you with his credit card. . . to a worrying degree. when asked if he's sure about this, he just waves it off and says it'll be safer in your hands. seriously, this card has been in your possession longer than it's ever been in his. sometimes, he does ask for it back – only to drop some 200k credits to your account. “a tip for doing a good job,” he'd wink casually while you're flabbergasted beyond belief.

aventurine who finds it extremely attractive whenever you step in to protect him from harm. dealing with uncooperative clients is a day in his life, yet some are so brutish they resort to getting physical – but he has you to make sure their hands stay off him. a gun in his direction? knocked off before the trigger even has a chance to get pulled. reaching out to grab him by the collar? they're already on the ground, your foot threateningly pressed on their back as a warning. what a dashing sight – and thanks to you, his pristine outfit has been saved more times than he could count at this point.

aventurine who likes to call you his “knight in shining armor” teasingly. awh, you don't like it? he thinks you're more than deserving of that title with the way you always swoop in to get him out of trouble. if the thousands of credits he gives you aren't enough yet, won't a cute title suffice? “it sounds corny,” you tell him with a grimace—and maybe, yes—but he just chirps coyly, “dunno. i think it's fitting.”

aventurine who makes it his responsibility to check on you after a rough mission. credits are no problem, he'd even reserve the most expensive private doctor in the cosmos if that means you'll recover faster. sadly, he has little to no medical skills – so the most he can offer you is bandages. sure, you can take a bullet to the stomach and handle a punch or two, that's your job, but what about tiny scratches? . . .don't tell him you're about to reject his kind offer.

“what's your favorite color?” he queries, somewhat out of the blue considering the situation where he is helping you tend to a minor cut on your finger. you raise an eyebrow, “why do you wanna know?” as he gently plasters a plain-colored bandage on your skin (which he's only been granted permission to after minutes of begging you to let him do it).

“for the bandages,” aventurine answers. he finds no need to hide his intentions as he runs a thumb over the bandage, softly as to not hurt you, to keep its position secure. “so that the next time you ask, i'll have some in your favorite color for sure.”

“how. . . thoughtful of you,” you snort, amused.

(briefly, he resists the urge to ask if he can place a kiss on your cut for 'luck'. but if he does, you might have his head. so, he'll try another time.)

aventurine who slowly begins to find a sense of comfort in your company. maybe, it's the way you scoff at his quips with a smile or the way you always tell him to be careful. maybe, it's the way you take him seriously or the way you stay by his side—is your job description the only reason why?—or maybe, he's just pathetic and reeks of so much loneliness you feel sympathetic. he can't tell, but he hopes the luxuries he has can persuade you to stay just a little longer. even if you don't actually care. (you do.)

aventurine who notices how anxiety brims in your gaze when you watch him gamble at the table – with a sum too high to be considered sane and sometimes, his own life. he can see it all; how your hands shake as if you want to reach out, how your lips tremble as if you want to tell him to stop. but this is what he's made for, is it not? he'll survive one way or another. . . until fate decides the bill for all his past good fortune is finally due. and when the time comes, he'll be ready for it. (will you?)

a game of russian roulette.

it always starts with thrills only to end with carnage spilled all over the table. luck is the only thing worth praying for at that point and oh, is luck not the dearest friend aventurine ever had? hence the reason why he always agrees, not with a yes but with a “why not?”.

you're there as his protector yet, utterly condemned to the role of a witness as soon as aventurine nods along to that darned game. panic rushes through your veins as the gun is passed around so relaxedly, so easily with laughter all around. aventurine's next in line, you realize grimly. the next decision that comes after is spontaneous, so different from your usual calculated nature – you drag him out of the casino in a frenzy before the weapon even lands in his hand. in your head, there is no other thought louder than: he could've died.

“a shame i didn't get to the fun part,” you hear him hum from behind you, too disturbingly calm for your liking. the bustling noises inside the establishment have all but faded into the background. “that was close, hm?” he laughs, a sound you would've found endearing if this was another occasion. any occasion that doesn't involve teetering dangerously on the precipice of death.

you stop in your tracks and aventurine, behind you, naturally follows. your silence is something he first takes note of and the way your hand shakes as it holds his is the second. you still haven't let go. what's going through your mind? he calls out your name softly, perplexed at your lack of explanation.

“. . .why did you say yes?” you respond with a bitter question. “you could've died. you almost died,” you try to hold back a shout – yet, your words are spat in such a fusillade he feels a seed of guilt starting to bloom inside his lifeless heart. he discards it in favor of putting on a frivolous smile.

“oh, relax,” he lets out a chuckle, one that sounds so ignorant of the taut tension in the air. “it's just some russian roulette. why so serious?” he shrugs as if to physically brush off any seriousness clinging to his figure. his remark gives off the assumption that every single hint of your worry has flown over his head.

“it is serious. . .” you bite your bottom lip. he sneers in return, “yeah? since when?” as if to challenge you to give an actual answer. his life is full of risks, to say otherwise would be a lie. “you're sweet for worrying but you don't actually care about me that much, do you?” he snickers to himself. like the thought of your caring about him can't possibly be true, like it's all just a terrible joke.

but he's the only one laughing.

aventurine falls quiet and finally, genuinely meets your gaze for the first time that night. he doesn't like what he sees. your lips are downturned, unamused and saddened—you do care, a realization that has been left unsaid—and all remainders of levity in him are replaced by immediate dread. it only now registers that the anger, concern, frustration on your face is for him; they're the unavoidable consequences from caring about him.

(his eyes widen. no, no, no.)

“c'mon, you—” he covers it up with a carefree smile, as feigned as it came. he shoves his hand in one of his pockets. it's shaking. “. . .worry too much. you've seen me play a handful of games before. i've never lost a wager, remember?”

you don't look convinced at all. in fact, you look as if you've arrived at the brink of seething. “and if you do? for once in your life, you lose?” you prod him for more. for something, for anything – perhaps, for a promise that he won't do it again.

(but you know aventurine, you know there would be no such promise.)

“then i lose,” he says, final and resigned. “there's really nothing else to it,” he tries to offer you another smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “hey. at least, you'll be there to witness my spectacular fall, right? it'll be a show to remember.”

he nearly doesn't manage to keep up the façade. it's already as precarious as it can be. you don't reply to him this time – instead, you let go of his hand to wipe at your cheeks. his gaze trails after your fingers and it freezes upon seeing the pearly tears falling free from your eyes.

aventurine has never seen you cry before. you're always so stone-faced, so hard to break that he recalls almost cheering when he heard you laugh for the first time. that was when you finally won a round of poker against him. a pity, he would've reminisced about the memory more. . . if only the matter of losing and winning a game isn't as serious as it is now.

“don't say that,” you mutter, harshly wiping away at the incessant tears pouring from your eyes more than you'd ever allow them to. some make their way into your mouth, they taste just as bitter as your current frustration. does he truly value his life so little? you can't fathom it, you can't fathom him at all.

but there is one thing you were certain of, at the very least: “you hired me to protect you,” you shake your head unrelentingly, “so i'll do it. until you throw me away, i won't let you die.”

you've stopped crying then. aventurine feels remorse; the tears that you shed because of him are starting to dry. the selfish part of him wants to reach out and brush them away with his thumb – but would you let him? would this lead you further down the rabbit hole that is him? in the end, he decides against it.

“. . .i'm sorry,” he sighs instead, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. whatever it is he is apologizing for, he doesn't have a clue either. he lets his eyes slip shut. he can't bear to look at you, can't bear to look at his pitiful reflection in your eyes.

(he's not worth caring about, can't you see? he dances hand in hand with death – there is no need to subject yourself to being a spectator.)

the two of you then part ways that night with shallow pleasantries on your tongues. no inside jokes, no evident yearning for the other to stay, no more than an awkward exchange of “i'll see you tomorrow.”

on his way 'home', regret and relief clash to form something inexplicably hollow inside kakavasha's chest. he wanted to wipe away your tears—what a regret—but if he did, they would've burned on his skin and became another mark to haunt him—what a relief he didn't. and frankly, if destiny is about to reap his debt, he'd rather go with no regrets at all.

whether those regrets include you? he doesn't have an answer just yet.

(the name at the bottom of his contract with fate is signed as kakavasha. but you wouldn't recognize that name. not as him, at least.)

aventurine whose eyes can't flutter close at night ever since thoughts of you fill his mind more than they already do before. you care for him, you want him to live—all his fault, he allowed himself to get too close—but these realizations are rooted in too deep and refuse to leave. what to do, what to do, what to do?

it isn't supposed to turn out like this.

what he and you have is meant to be transactional; he'd be spared from unnecessary scuffles and you'd be compensated with monetary payment. he means to keep it superficially fun; for him to tease you with jests—so you'd stay and save him from the deafening silence in his head—and for you to dismiss him with that adorably annoyed look on your face. just some silly banter, that's it.

so then, since when are there rounds of poker where he'd coo over your frown when you lost? or the sound of your lecturing after he secretly got you a high-end item? or meals shared together where you'd bicker over the bill? or bandages in your favorite color kept inside his bedside table? since when do you start to care? . . .since when does he start to care?

think of something else.

kakavasha tosses and turns in his bed, but the soft pillows and blanket do nothing to quell these bothers of his. are feelings always this complicated? he places a hand over his eyes, tired and exhausted, and stares at the ceiling as if it could provide him with an answer.

but there's no use.

in a moment void of logical thinking, he reaches for his phone and hovers a finger over your name in his contacts. he is usually good friends with bad ideas – but not this time, he sets his phone down and lets out a frustrated sigh that only his expensive pillows are there to hear.

(for gaiathra's sake, he hasn't even told you his real name yet.)

aventurine who becomes awfully distant the next time he sees you. you accompany him to meetings with clients per usual, but it's different. . . he talks to you succinctly, not verbosely with that trademark grin of his. his face is bereft of the things you grow to like seeing on him. a sincere smile instead of one just for show, for example. but even that's difficult to ask for since he only speaks to fill the silence with empty chatter. he doesn't look you in the eyes either; you feel a pang of hurt, you've always loved his eyes.

aventurine who discards all thoughts of you as soon as he steps inside pier point to be assigned a project. a conclave between the stonehearts is a matter of top confidentiality and you, dutifully, are ordered to wait for him outside the office. though, he'll admit; your absence by his side actually does leave a gaping void—such hypocrisy, really—but at least, those pesky voices in his head know how to shut up when it comes to work.

“penacony. . . is diamond finally ready to do something about it?”

aventurine rests his left hand on the small of his back, fiddling with the clubs-shaped detailing on the fabric there. it looks like an act of idleness from afar, but anyone observant enough would know it's a way to subdue whatever nerves he wishes to hide.

he waits for the person in front of him, gazing at the purplish-red sky of pier point at sunset, to speak. for their next words shall mark the start of his next journey in fate's course.

aventurine who hesitates to let you come to penacony with him at first. but it'd be poor reasoning not to, since some might have a bone to pick with him as the corporation's representative. . . and he knows you'll protest to come with anyway. fine then, situationship discomfiture be damned – not even a second after he steps out of the meeting, his neon eyes finally meet yours. “so, how does a trip to penacony sound?” he announces with a confident smile. you blink, noticing how his lips are wobbling at the sides. you don't say no, however. (if only the two of you know what sort of ride you're getting yourselves into.)

— thanks for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. why don't we all sob over this man like it's a cryfest ♡

[ickadori]

Damn, that unwanted images fic? I can imagine sukuna constantly trying to trick Yuuji into giving Sukuna his body just for a bit so he can go seduce reader. Maybe even pop out and whisper filthy nothings whenever she passes by cause she has to know about what he wants to do to her.

[cws] fem reader. sukuna being a pervert. groping. minor scent kink activities. oral. i think this is dubcon… one big unedited ramble tbh. writing sukuna is hard!

Being around Yuji could sometimes be… tiring, to say the least.

He’s a nice guy, very nice, funny too - he’s made you laugh to tears on quite a few occasions, and he’s cute to top it all off. Everyone you spoke to always have good things to say about him, and you have to admit that you do, too—even if his preference in partners had made you raise your eyebrows when you first heard it.

So, with this in mind, you always try to ignore Sukuna and his ‘antics’, although it was getting increasingly more difficult to ignore the curse’s brazen words when they were blurted out in the midst of a silent classroom, or whenever you happened to pass by Yuji in the hallway, or even when he had managed to pin you in an innocent enough position during training.

You couldn’t count how many times you had been left with your mouth gaping and hot in the face due to the comments Sukuna threw your way. They were always crude, brash, lewd, and left you with a strange twisting feeling deep in your gut — it was weird. The words were Sukuna’s, obviously, but if you didn’t look at the mouth sprouted on Yuji’s cheek, or pay too much heed to the deep, rough drawl of the voice speaking, you could pretend that it was Yuji saying those words, and for some reason that made it all seem a tad bit better…but not by much.

You had spoken with Gojo about it, as much as you hadn’t wanted to. Talking with your past teacher about the strange obsession that the curse inhabiting your friend’s body had with you was at the very top of your list of things you absolutely never wanted to fucking do, but you had to do something.

Sukuna’s comments were getting out of hand, his most recent having kept you from venturing to the training field — you had been engaged in a spar against Maki, attempting to work on your hand to hand combat, when you had heard that unmistakeable voice, his attention fully piqued by the presence of you - and while you never liked to be full of yourself, it was common knowledge that he only made his presence so obnoxiously obvious either when you were in sight of Yuji was banging on death’s door.

At first, you had thought he was rudely critiquing you like he usually did, commenting on your speed and how you were just so slow, you’d be dead in a fight against someone who was actually strong, or one of the many other things he liked to say to get your spirits low, but no, he was in a different mood that day.

Maki had just tossed you onto the ground for the umpteenth time, and you had decided to call it quits then, desperately wanting to submerge yourself in a hot bath to try and soothe your aching body.

Yuji, who had been observing from the side and having a somewhat one-sided conversation with Inumaki, had sensed your beaten to smithereens will and hauled you up off the ground, a smile on his face as he tapped you on the shoulder and gave you a bit of encouragement, only for the good deed to immediately be overshadowed when Sukuna spoke.

You hadn’t caught it at first, or rather, you had tried to pretend that you didn’t actually hear what he had said, because there was no way in hell that you wanted to acknowledge that he, in front of all of these people, had made a comment about how your shorts were just ‘so damned snug that he could practically see your clit—do you even have on any panties?’.

He had no problem repeating himself, even throwing some new things in, things that made your ears burn and the hairs at the back of your neck raise and your stomach flutter when you took on Yuji’s sheepish expression coupled with the way his eyes kept flitting down to between your legs and off to the side.

Recounting the many tales to Gojo had been humiliating, and his amazed ooh’s and ahh’s hadn’t made it any better, but you had desperately wanted some kind of resolution to all of this. He was the strongest, after all, so surely he could do something? Muzzle him at the very least?

“I’m afraid that’s out of my capabilities—aww, don’t look at me like that, I want to help you, but there’s not much of anything I can do.” He had been wearing his blindfold as he usually did, but you were certain that had been a hint of amusement in his eyes as he spoke, as if this was some funny story and not a serious matter that required a serious resolution. “I can’t control who Sukuna takes a liking, too, even if it is one of my beloved students. As it stands, he can’t do much of anything but talk. Yuji has him under control in that aspect, so you’ll just have to grin and bear unfortunately.”

There was only so much grinning and bearing you could take — Sukuna was unrelenting. While the comments had been sparse before, they were now frequent. You couldn’t go a single day without some part of your body being commented on.

Wearing skirts earned you comments on your thighs of how soft they looked, of how they’d feel wrapped around his head as he tongued your cunt, of how he wanted to mark them up with his teeth, his hands, his nails. So you wore pants next, only for him to admire the way they hugged your ass, and oh, he sees, you’re showing off for Yuji now, ya know he’s an ass man, is that what this is? The want the brat to fuck you instead of him, a real man, a man that can make you cry and moan and cream on his cock with little to no effort?

If your shirt happened to be a bit tight that day around your breasts, you could bet your life and win that Sukuna was gonna tell you ten different ways that he would fuck them, eventually. He’d describe it in vivid detail; how your tits would look squeezed around his cock, how he’d cover them in his cum (don’t worry, he’d be considerate enough to lick it off of you, as long as you didn’t squirm too much when he latched onto your pretty nipples), how they’d bounce when he’d fuck you—and don’t make that face, he knows you like what he’s saying. You don’t? Then let Yuji reach in your panties and see if you’re wet or not. No? It’s fine, he knows you are, just too shy and prudish to admit it.

You’re careful eating consuming certain foods and drinks around him, but when he made a remark about how greedily you gulped down your water after a morning run, wondering aloud if you ‘guzzle cum down just as eagerly’, you chose to forfeit your basic human needs in his presence altogether.

It seemed like you couldn’t do anything around Yuji without it being turned into something perverse, and after much contemplation, you decided to just avoid him all together. It took a lot of detours and changes of your schedule to ensure you wouldn’t run into him, along with skipping out on hanging with your other friends because he’d be there, but you managed. It was incredibly boring and dull, and you found yourself lazing around your room more often than not, but you figured this was better than listening to the many ways Sukuna wanted to fuck you.

You’re in your room now, fingers massaging a new moisturizer into your cheeks as you only halfway pay attention to the show that’s playing on the tv. You had just gotten out of the shower, dressed in a baggy sweater that you couldn’t remember who you had snagged from, and was nearly ready to retire for the night.

A knock at your door draws your attention away from the tv, and thinking it’s more than likely Nobara come to once again lament about how pissed she is that you took a rain check on yet another outing with them (the trio had ventured out into the city earlier) you move to open it without thinking.

“If you’re here to scream at me for staying in tonight, I’m gonna need you to make it quick. My show is…” Your words die on your tongue when your eye finally clash against red ones, and there’s a lurch in your chest when Sukuna steps into your room, lips twisted into a grin as he invades your space. “…Yu—!”

You help when his hand shoots out to snag ahold of your jaw, fingers pushing into your cheeks as he quirks a brow. “I know you’re not stupid enough to call me by another man’s name, right?” Your hand is still gripping the door knob, and it tightens as you jerkily nod, eyes wide and unblinking as the gravity of the situation takes its time weighing on your shoulders.

He smushes your cheeks together, a hum leaving him as he turns your head side to side, and you can’t help the feeling that he’s appraising you, ogling you, judging you, just as he had been when he wasn’t in control, and all the things he had said suddenly come rushing back to the front of your mind.

A choked noise manages to escape you, and his grin widens, his free hand pushing yours away from the door so he can push it closed. “Wonderin’ what I’m gonna do to you?” He guesses, and you make another noise, your hands itching to do something. You are a sorcerer, not the strongest but definitely not the weakest, but this is Sukuna standing in front of you, what could you possibly do against him?

He takes another step forward, and the cologne that Yuji frequently wears wraps around you and makes your head spin. “I was wondering the same thing on my way over.” His front presses flush to yours, and you jump when something firm and big pushes into your hip, the hand that had been on your face dropping to rest against the side of your neck, thumb positioning itself underneath your chin so he can tilt your head up. “What to use first… your mouth,” he eyes your lips, and a shaky breath leaves them at that moment, “these tits,” his free hand gropes you through your sweater, and you yelp and jump in his hold, protests stuttered out as he kneads and squeezes at the flesh.

“S-Sukuna, you can’t—”

“Or this fat little cunt you’ve got.” The hand that had been on your chest dips low, and you both make a sound when his fingers are met with a sticky, clear fluid. He snarks out a laugh, and you furiously shake your head as your skin burns. “You’re fucking wet.”

“I’m not!” He pushes a finger up against your clit through the cotton of your panties, and you cross your ankles in an attempt to keep him from rubbing against you, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest. He presses against you harder, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you weakly push at his forearm. There’s the fleeting thought that Yuji is somewhere in there seeing this, and it’s almost enough to have you melting into an embarrassed puddle of goo, but then Sukuna is saying something about being on ‘borrowed time’ while lowering himself to his knees in front of you.

You gape down at him, hurriedly trying to scramble back, but his hands come up to grip the backs of your thighs, the look he gives you making you stay put. Once he sees you’re not going anywhere, he loosens his grip on your legs, hands venturing up until he’s roughly gripping at the fat of your ass, gaze fixed on your face as you fight to keep it somewhat expressionless… although by the pleased look on his face you’re sure that you’re failing.

“You should revel in the knowledge that I’ve never kneeled before anyone else.”

With a harsh tug your underwear is pooled around your ankles, and Sukuna is roughly pushing up the material of your sweater, his head moving in until you can feel his breath fanning over the curly hairs covering your cunt. A misplaced stroke of insecurity covers you as he takes in the sight, and you don’t want to ponder about why you seem to care if he prefers a full shave or not, because you shouldn’t.

You should kick him away, king of curses be damned. He could cut you into a million pieces with a swipe of his finger, but still! You should do something other than just stand here and allow him to—

He buries his nose into your mound, a deep groan sounding as you hear him breathe in your scent, and your breath catches in your throat as your knees wobble, hands flying to his shoulders as you steady yourself.

You sweater covers his head as he lets it go to instead spread apart your lips, and you can’t help the gasp that comes out when he immediately begins to lap at your cunt, tongue moving from your clit to your hole and back again.

It’s too much too soon, and noises that you’d be horrified at making later tumble out of your mouth as Sukuna messily eats you out, one hand harshly gripping at your ass. His tongue feels as if it’s everywhere all at once, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge in no time, hips unconsciously rocking against his mouth, calves tensed as you stretch your on your toes, fingers curling into the material of his hoodie.

“Suh…Su-kuna,” a broken cry of his name falls from your lips as you come, his tongue pushing impossibly deep into you as his hand tugs you closer. The sound of him slurping at your slick is loud in the room, and the bruising grip on your ass trades in for a caress, the harsh sucking at your cunt switching to slow, languid licks that threaten to throw you into overstimulation,

When the fog clears, you stiffen, face screwing up and eyes widening as you look down at the lump in your sweater. Before any thoughts can come, he’s pulling back, pink hair coming into view as your sweater falls away from him, and you think you may just die on the spot when take note of the lack of black markings marring his face.

“…Yuji?”

[borathae]

The Consequences of Fucking Up

“Your break up was messy and painful. All you want to do is to forget about him. His friends, who ever since you ended it with Yoongi see you as their bullying target, make sure that the memory of him stays fresh in your mind however, haunting you day by fucking day. While Yoongi makes it seem as if he gives no fuck about your situation. Until one night he is in front of your door. Drunk and fucking regretful.”

♥️ Requested by anonie ♥️

Pairing: Gangster!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Exes!AU, Messy Break-Up!AU, Crime!AU, Cop!AU, Hurt and Comfort, Angst, Smut, a lil bit of Fluff

Wordcount: 15.9k

Warnings: lowkey they're bad for each other, but also somehow so right?, OC is such a people hater, I feel like she has mental health issues which are never addressed tbfh, she is quite the pessimist, unhealthy consumption of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes & weed (listen. i hate smoking and stand by that but it sadly fits their characters), Yoongi is kinda apathetic and cold, or is he??, IS HE???, implied violence and murder, corrupt cops & lawyers, policeman!Jungkook makes an appearance and he stole my heart tbfh :(, he is so cute that i almost sobbed, drugdealer!Hoseok makes an appearance too, there is also detective!Namjoon and smuggler!Taehyung because I love this vibe :); abuse of power, fuck Yoongi just fuck he is so ngngn, slightly protective & possessive!Yoongi, intoxicated sex, desperate!Yoongi, no foreplay, but she is not uncomfortable, choking (m.receiving), rough desperate sex, position change from sex against a sofa to missionary on said sofa, a lil bit of strength kink hihi, he cums too soon, dirty talk, tears :'), he is actually so emotional during the sex, the ending is so cheesy and cute <3, Spoiler: he is willing to change!! and he is a cutie actually, jsjsjsj sorry but i love yoongi a lot :(

Disclaimer: This is purely fiction and isn't like my usual stories. It does not portray how the boys actually are and it is not how I see them. This is a work of fiction with no correlation to real life. The type of relationships depicted in this story are far from how I normally portray my relationships and I do not advertise for such relationhips or staying in such relationships. This story is supposed to be twisted and dark & so are the relationships in it, as well as the characters. You have been warned. If you decide to continue reading, then it is out of your own free will.

a/n: now that the disclaimer is out of the way i can officially bark because woof woof fuckkcc anonie thank you so much for this idea. i had the worst and best time writing this story like nfnfnf her mental state was definitely very difficult to write, but their tension just got to me. i made the ending as cute and fluffy as possible just as you wanted hihi <3 also i love villian characters who would set the whole world on fire just to prove their dedication :) i hope this is what you imagined, because i kinda made it longer and with more plot than i planned to at first sjjsjs i couldn't be stopped jsjsj ALSO this is giving me the perfect opportunity to finally write a Kook request I got years ago ohoho

Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.

“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes. 

Three months prior

“So you’re breaking up with me?” he asks, gawking at you with widened eyes. He looks more surprised than he does hurt. Probably because it hasn’t actually sunk in yet.

“I am.”

“No, you’re not.” He laughs because he never takes anything seriously.

“Yes. I am.”

“Too bad, I won’t act like it.”

“Yeah, you will.”

He laughs, “you’ve had better jokes, but I still admire the commitment.”

“You see. That’s the problem with you. Everything’s a fucking joke to you.”

He is smiling. It reaches his eyes.

“Your job, your men. Me. Everything’s a fucking joke to you. If you would have taken Sukuna’s thread seriously, Soojin would still be alive. If you didn’t fucking insult Miss Mei, you wouldn’t have lost twenty thousand in drugs and you wouldn’t have to fucking kiss asses like a beggar.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.

“If you would have put any kind of effort into me, I wouldn’t be leaving now. You take everything as a joke, while in reality you are the biggest joke here.”

His smile falls. You stood up and that actually scared him. 

“Wait baby, wait. Princess, we can talk about this”, he argues, closing the distance with his arms stretched open. “I’ll fix the issue with Miss Mei, I promise.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m done talking. Soojin died because of your recklessness.” 

Yoongi touches your hands. He holds them, clutches them. You have never felt such a touch from him before. As if he actually loved you. 

“What can I do? Tell me and I’ll do it”, he offers, caressing your knuckles. 

This is what you craved for months. Affection. Attention. You were always a passing thought to him. Something to fuck and possess. Something low maintenance like all his other shit. His current touch almost makes you want to stay because for the briefest moment, your breaking heart wants to believe that he finally changed. 

But you know better. He doesn’t take you seriously and if you stay, you will one day end up like Soojin. Metaphorically or not, you will end up dead because of him. 

“There is nothing you can do. Sorry.”

You slip out of his touch.

“Baby”, Yoongi follows you with panicked eyes, trying to touch you again.

“Goodbye, Min Yoongi.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

You close the door and run, finally letting the tears escape. 

You love him.

You always have and perhaps always will. 

You don’t want to leave, but know that staying will kill you. 

One week passes. You spent it holed up in your small, shitty apartment, crying your heart out. Yoongi was the best and worst thing that ever happened to you and you miss him. You hate that you miss him. Because he was way worse than he was good. 

He was never abusive. He was a violent man to anyone but you. You, he always touched with utmost care. At you, he never screamed. But he was still not good. He was cold and apathetic at times, then terribly affectionate at others, only to become cold again. And you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You wouldn’t have left your apartment today if your fridge hadn’t been empty. It wasn’t always empty, but sadly enough, groceries don’t magically appear. Not even for an outlaw such as yourself.

The city is busy. The smell of street food, smog and body odor poisons the air. The weather is hot these days and people started sweating more. You can’t stand people. You pull the mask tighter around your nose, hoping to shield the stench this way. 

You greet the clerk when you enter the shop, lowering your mask. It smells of grocery store in here. Fresh bread, produce and clean floors. It’s a welcome change to the rancid outside.

You spent fourty minutes in the shop and pay with cash. You never pay with card because it can be traced. Someone like you can’t risk being found. 

“See you”, you say your goodbyes and leave the store. You plan on coming back in three weeks. You can’t stand being outside often.

The door just about closed behind you and then someone jumps you. Three people to be more exact. Two hold your arms while one rips the bags out of your hands. 

“Let go! Hey, you fuckers!” you fight them off instantly, surprised at how easily it is to do. Way too easy. They let go of you as quickly as they grabbed you. At first you think that nothing happened, until you notice your grocery bags in one of the guys’ hands. They stole your stuff!

“You motherfuckers! Get back here! They’re mine!” 

They run away, flipping you off over their shoulders.

You sprint after them, but before you reach them, they jump onto a tuk tuk and drive off, finally showing you their faces. Those were some of Yoongi’s underlings.

“What the fuck?” You stumble back in disbelief. “Did they fucking steal my food? What the fuck’s happening?” 

It takes you a while before you finally come to the conclusion that you have to buy everything they stole a second time. And you do. And nobody jumps you. And you go home, make yourself shitty dinner and drink a bottle of soju all by yourself. It isn’t a good night. It’s a shit night. But then. All your nights have been shit for years.

You met Yoongi four years ago. It correlates with when your shit nights began. Okay, you are being unfair. The first two years with him were paradise and your nights were wonderful. You were an aspiring lawyer, while he was in the midst of getting a promotion to superintendent.  You supported each other’s dreams, motivated each other and celebrated when your goals were achieved. Then the truth spilled out. The man you knew to love turned out to be a lie. Why you never left, you do not know. He gave you the chance to leave, but you didn’t. You made yourself low maintenance to him and your nights became shit. He pretended to be a proper policeman by day while you pretended to be a proper lawyer and at night he became what he hunted by day while you tried to hide whatever evidence about him flooded into the offices. You hated it at first, then loved it, then lost your job because of it and became dependent on him and started to hate it again. Well, at least working for him. You liked everything else. Having to work in the system and seeing how corrupt even the most eligible politicians or CEOs truly are, made you realise that perhaps stealing from them isn’t as bad as it first sounded. You liked being on the dark side of the law because the bright side was just as twisted. You just simply started to hate that it means being close to Yoongi.

It took Soojin’s death to finally make you realise that staying with him will end in your death as well. And so you finally left.

You will start a new life, make up a new identity, move to a different country and forget about him. Maybe. Who knows. You haven’t decided yet.

A letter comes five days after the grocery store incident. It is stuffed into an unsealed envelope and clearly delivered by the person who wrote it. You open it, feeling shit instantly. Whoever wrote this letter is calling you the most hurtful of names, telling you personal stuff which truly hurts. You throw it away and go back inside, opening a bottle of soju. It wasn’t Yoongi’s handwriting, but somehow you still think that it is connected to him. You try not to let it get to you, but you still end up rotting away in your bed for the rest of the week only leaving it to piss, shit and eat. 

The next week your packages are missing. You never get them back. The culprit is never found. You curse the sky, knowing that it was fruitless. Yet again, you think that it was connected to him. To Yoongi, the man you wanted to forget, but who keeps haunting you day by day.

The city at night is a dangerous place. If you don’t know where to walk, you could find yourself in a rather messy situation. Especially as a woman. You are glad that most women are clever enough to stay at home once darkness greets the streets. Most women don’t know how to defend themselves though. Properly and without the law in mind. You killed before. Once. It was self defence. Yoongi took care of the body, you never found out what happened to it. He stayed with you the night it happened, even let you cry in his arms. He was gone the next day and never spoke of it again.

You clutch the big knife tightly in your bag, scanning the streets constantly. It isn’t far anymore until you are home. Hopefully the heavy rain clouds stay dry until you get there. You aren’t in the mood to get wet. Not tonight. You would have never left if you hadn’t ran out of fucking cigarettes. The kiosk was closed, so the journey was useless. Thunder announces that the clouds aren’t your friends. Mere seconds later, it starts pouring.

“Fucking shit, I hate this city.”

Rain in this city is always dirty and never really cold. You take it as a bad sign. Rain shouldn’t be warm. Not always, not constantly. Something’s wrong with this city. Something is rotting slowly until one day it will consume everything in its wake. You hope to have left before it can wake up.

The way home is too long for the amount of dirty rain it pours. You find refuge under a shop sign. There are no rooftops or canopies in sight and the only thing close to a safe place was the stupid restaurant sign. Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in bright red letters. The place is stuffed with people and the smell of beef broth mixes with the dirty scent of rain. You grind your teeth. What a shitty situation you find yourself in. You prefer being outside though. You know that once inside, the restaurant would be hot and stink of digested booze and body odor. You take getting wet over breathing in people’s air.

Except that you don’t really stay wet for long. The distinct sound of rain hitting an umbrella meets your ears. You look up. Black. You look to the side at the person holding it. Yoongi. Your stomach twists, your heart skips a beat. He is wearing a suit tonight. Black with a black tie. His hair is slicked back. He used makeup to  conceal the scar running all the way from his forehead over his eye and down half his cheek. This is his work outfit. His police chief outfit. Yes. He is a chief these days.

Your instincts tell you to leave without saying anything, but it’s been six weeks since the breakup and you still love him. You hate that you do, but can’t stop staring at his face. He has his brows raised in a nonchalant way as he inspects the heavy rain. He doesn’t grant you eye contact, but holds the umbrella in a way which lets you know that he came out here after seeing you. His left shoulder is getting wet, while you stay dry completely.

“What are you doing here?” you hear yourself ask him.

“Work dinner. I have to pay ‘cause I’m the boss and all that shit. They’re eating like greedy pigs”, he scoffs, “fucking assholes.”

“I see.”

“You?” 

“Buying smokes.”

He finally looks at you, studying from head to toe.

“The kiosk was closed”, you answer his question about your cigarettes’ whereabouts before he can ask it.

“I thought you quit.”

“Some things happened which made me start again.”

“Mhm”, he hums and takes out a packet of cigarettes from the inside of his suit jacket. He lights himself one and puts the packet away again, leaving you to stare at the smoke he blows out through his nose.

He isn’t actually serious, is he? It is like he is mocking you. It is already bad enough that he sends his stupid goons to terrorise you, now he is mocking you as well? You hate that you still love him.

You stay like this for a while. You staring at him while he holds the umbrella for you and smokes. You don’t know why you stay. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much.

Yoongi takes a long drag of the cigarette and exhales the smoke in an almost sigh-like breath. He lifts the cigarette, holding it closer to you.

“What?” you sound disbelieved, scandalised even.

He doesn’t say anything. He just shows you the cigarette as his eyes follow the endless rain. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much. But you still take the cigarette and put your lips right where he had his’ moments before. But you still smoke it as if it was the most normal thing to do. Because it once was. You and he shared many smokes in the past. It was once the most sensual, erotic thing to do between you and him. Barely clothed, intoxicated minds and high on the other, you often shared a joint as you got each other off. Fuck, it was always so fucking orgasmic to be with him that way.

“Wanna grab a bite?” he offers, pointing at the restaurant behind him, “one more mouth to feed isn’t gonna ruin me.”

You are hungry. You haven’t had a proper meal in weeks. Instant ramen, frozen food and snacks is all your body has to run on. You have no energy to cook and with how shitty you eat, it is a vicious cycle. Shitty food gives little energy, you already have low energy. The motivation to properly cook grows lower and lower each day. You dread the day you have only enough energy left to open a package of chips and eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“I’m not hungry.”

He glances at you. He knows that you are lying. Your eyes have greyed in starvation. He almost rips the cigarette out of your fingers and smokes it angrily, huffing out the smoke. 

“I’m offering”, he hisses.

“And I’m declining. I can take care of myself”, you throw back and rip the cigarette from his grasp to smoke it angrily. 

You may be starving, but you will be damned if you make yourself dependent on him again. You left him to finally prove to yourself that you can take care of yourself. You don’t need his help. Not anymore. 

You take another deep drag, then hand the cigarette to him. He smokes it, glaring at you. You know that your stubbornness angers him.

“Tell your men to stop pestering me”, you say into the tense silence. 

He looks over his shoulder at his police team. They are too drunk and caught in conversation to pay their boss any mind.

“They’re inside”, he says.

“You know I don’t mean them. Tell your other men to stop annoying me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes. You do.” It is your turn to smoke. “It all started when they stole my groceries, but it’s been getting childish. My packages keep getting stolen, my internet cuts off, I find letters in my mail. Letters saying awful things about me. It’s getting ridiculous. Tell your men to stop terrorising me.”

“Stolen packages?” He takes the cigarette from you, brushing his fingers against yours as he does. The touch feels like the sweetest poison on your skin. “This doesn’t sound like my problem to solve. Go to the police.”

“Are you serious?” 

He inhales, exhales the smoke into your face. You should be disgusted by it, but almost huff it in like an addict. Yoongi watches your lids lower and your chest raise in a greedy breath, finding it hard not to stare at your lips as he hands you the cigarette. You smoke it. His eyes are still on your lips, glued to the shape of them as his throat runs dry.

“Very serious”, he rasps.

“You are the police”, you throw back in disbelief, exhaling the smoke into his face that way.

“Mhm yeah, I guess I am.” He takes the cigarette, smoking it with half lidded eyes. He exhales, handing you the cigarette. “When are you going to come home again?” he asks, looking back at the rain.

You almost choke on the smoke, exhaling it in a cough. Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Your farce is getting ridiculous”, he says coldly.

“My farce?”

This break up wasn’t the first break up you and he went through. You left many times before, always thinking that you were finally strong enough to forget him only to come crawling back again. You don’t blame him for doubting that this time will be different, but you still can’t stop yourself from getting angry.

“Did you even hear what I said?”

“I did. Go to the police. I have nothing to do with it.”

You drop the half-finished cigarette. It dies in the puddle on the ground.

“I was smoking this”, he says dryly, “besides, don’t litter.”

“Pick it up yourself if you care so much about these dirty ass streets”, you spit and turn to leave. You take getting wet over being with him any longer.

Yoongi watches you leave, shakes his head in disbelief and bends down to pick up the cigarette. He won’t run after you because you will come crawling back eventually. You always do.

“Sir?” 

He turns his head. One of his officers. He is young and with sparkles of big dreams in his eyes. Yoongi pities him. This city is going to chew him up until there is nothing left of him. He had the same dreams once and knows what the viper nest, which is the justice system, is going to do to him. 

“What do you want?” he asks him dryly, rolling the wet cigarette between his fingers.

“Who did you talk to right now?”

“Just someone important to me.”

“Shouldn’t we escort her home? It’s raining and there could be criminals on the streets. It’s too dangerous for a woman to be alone.”

“She’ll get home safely.”

“Are you sure, Sir? I stayed sober for cases like these. I could get the car right away.”

“You’re sober?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But it’s a work dinner. You’ve been off work for hours.”

The young officer salutes, “I know, Sir but a policeman shouldn’t slack, Sir.”

Yoongi feels deep pity for the young man. He is so motivated, so proper and full of good spirit. Waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him.

He pats him on the shoulder.

“You’re a good person, Jeon”, he says and swerves past him to get back inside. 

The young officer follows him with pride glimmering in his innocent eyes. Yes, waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him. 

Yoongi wasn’t always living two lives. He was like his young officer once. Full of dreams and motivation. He dreamed of using his powers to do good, to help those who needed it most and then he woke up. He watched politicians and men in power ruin, rape and kill the powerless without ever getting punished for it. He felt helpless. If even someone in his position can’t change the world, then who will? His criminal work was honourable once. He slipped evidence money under the table to hand out to the powerless, he let proof disappear for people doing crimes out of desperation. One time he was supposed to put a starving mother behind bars because she stole diapers for her babies. Yoongi couldn’t do it and so he disobeyed the law for these kinds of people.

But then his criminal work became less about the powerless and more about him. Making money the illegal way was easy and it is fucking addicting. Especially when he could make sure that evidence about him never reached the higher ups. Yoongi fucking loved the sudden power he possessed and he was too blinded by it to see that he became exactly what drove him to criminality in the first place.

Yoongi tells his officer to check up on your place that night. The young officer rings the doorbell like he was told to do.

You open it, swaying from intoxication as you do. The stench of digested booze wafts off you. But you somehow seem to sober up when you see the police badges on his shirt.

“You’ve got the wrong person”, you tell him, trying to morph your face into an expression of sobriety.

“Don’t worry, Miss. I came here to check on you.”

“Check on me?”

“Yes, Miss.” He salutes you. “I have orders from my captain to make sure that you arrived home safely and that you received this”, he says with an innocent smile on his lips, presenting a plastic bag to you. 

Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in red letters and inside, three big takeout containers of food are waiting to be eaten. 

Everything clicks into place. This is one of Yoongi’s employees. Another young, hopeful spirit which will be crushed in the system. You pity the young officer. You had the same innocent sparkle in your eyes once.

Hesitantly, you accept the takeout food.

“Thanks”, you mumble.

“Any time, Miss.” He studies you for a moment. “Are you…are you okay, Miss?”

You bite back tears. His empathy is going to kill him one day. But it feels so good to receive. You haven’t been asked this question in so long.

You shake your head. He straightens up in worry. 

“Should I call help for you, Miss?”

You know what he indicates.

“Thank you, no. I’m just going through some shit. Sorry, I’m being sappy tonight.”

“You don’t have to go through it alone, Miss.”

“I know. I’m just… I’m seriously alright, I won’t do anything stupid. You don’t have to worry, officer.” 

“Yes, well I still see it as my duty to stay because you seem sad to me”, he says and tries to go inside your apartment. He still has a lot to learn. You know from his eyes that he has no bad intentions and that he truly wants to help, but you know how the city will treat such deeds. One day he will try to help the wrong person and end up with attempted sexual assault charges. And it will fucking destroy him because people like him only see the good in the world and can’t imagine that others would want to hurt people.

You stop him with a guiding hand on his chest.

“That isn’t necessary, really. My packages keep getting stolen and I guess it’s been annoying me.”

He pulls out a pen paper instantly, stepping closer to you without noticing, “your packages? Have you seen anyone suspicious? How many packages have gone missing? When did it start?”

“No, I… Thank you for your concern and the food, but I will get through the night safely.”

He steps back, cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

“Forgive me, I don’t know why I did that. My captain said that you were important to him and that I should make sure that you are well, so I wanted to do a good job at it.” He bows at you deeply. “Please forgive me, Miss.” 

“He said that?” you whisper.

He nods his head, “yes, Miss.”

“Oh. Uhm. ” You clear your throat. “Thank you, I, uhm, tell him that I’m good.” 

“I will, Miss. Here, my card. You can always call me when you need something” he hesitates, “or when you just need someone to talk to.” 

“Thank you. This is so kind.”

“You are never alone, Miss.”

“Thank you”, you say, bowing at him. He is so kind. God, you want to grab him and tell him to run before it’s too late.

He bows as well, “good night, Miss.”

“Good night.”

You watch him leave. He gives you one last look out of the police car and a kind wave, then drives off. 

You close the door with a curse. This just sobered you up. The young policeman’s kindness just sobered you up. You check his name on the card he handed you. Jeon Jungkook. Why someone like him? He never should have found his way into this field of work. 

You look at the takeout food next, feeling your stomach twist. You are important to Yoongi. Holy fuck.

It’s been eight weeks since you left him. You don’t feel better. The cigarette you shared was two weeks ago and yet you still feel as if it was sticking to your lungs. Each time you breathe out, you swear you can taste him. It almost suffocates you and keeps you from relaxing. So you leave your depressing place for a walk to the kiosk. You read somewhere that walks are good for one’s mental health. You can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are loud and fucking stink.

The vendor must be fucking with you. The day is bright, but the kiosk is closed again. You bang your fist against the closed door, cursing loudly. You want your fucking smokes is that too much to ask? This city is fucking shit.

You’ll just call someone who will always help. You saved him as Jay. His real name is Hoseok. You don’t say his real name in public. He doesn’t say yours. Yoongi sometimes called him his best friend, but what is such a title out of the mouth of the most apathetic man you know? You were his girlfriend too and look at where this has gotten you, living as an outlaw in the shit and dirt of this city.

Like always, Hoseok lets the phone ring four times then he picks up.

“Flames are hot”, he says.

“And the arsonist works hard”, you answer him.

“Hyacinth, it’s good to hear your voice”, there is finally a smile in his voice now that you answered the code correctly.

“The same goes for you, Jay.”

“What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

“Nothing much. I’m out of smokes.”

“The corner in twenty?”

“Yeah.”

You and he end the call at the same time. Twenty minutes later you meet. He wears black overalls and smudged eyeliner. He says it keeps the char easier to hide. Like always, he greets you with a quick hug.

“What do you got?” you ask him.

“Whatever you want.” He opens his bag. “I’ve got cigarettes, but something stronger too”, he says, scurrying around the contents of the bag with his fingers. He always has burn marks on them, but somehow they are never dirty.

“What do fifty bucks buy?”

“For you? Two packs of cigarettes and two joints. That’s a steal.”

“Fuck dude, you’re getting expensive.”

“Yeah well, a man’s gotta eat.”

“Fine, I’ll take it.”

You and he exchange goods. He makes small talk.

“But why are you here with me? Did Suga run out of goods?”

Suga is Yoongi’s codename in public. The sound of it almost brings bile into your throat. You did such a good job in forgetting him and now the memory of him is as fresh as a new day. At least you like to pretend that you are doing a good job at forgetting him. Your heart knows better though.

“We, uhm…”

Hoseok exhales sharply, “again?”

You nod your head.

“When?”

“More than two months ago.”

“Damn, that’s long.”

“Yeah, I’m serious about it.”

He cocks his brow up.

“I am”, you insist just a little snappishly.

“Alright”, he closes his bag, “I gotta go now.”

“Already?”

He looks around nervously. Almost as if he didn’t want to be seen with you.

“Yup. Use the stuff wisely, I won’t have new stuff for a while.”

“Seriously?”

He nods his head and salutes you nonchalantly.

“See you around.”

“See…you?”

He turns his back to you and walks off quickly, soon disappearing into the busy crowd. Is this your fate? Even the people closest to you avoid you now that you aren’t Yoongi’s anymore? Were you truly only worth something as his little thing? You ball your hands into fists, bending the joints this way. You have to leave this fucking place. There is actually nothing holding you here anymore.

That night the phone terror starts. Numbers keep calling you over and over and over again. You pick up the first time, only to have to listen to the most hurtful things another human has ever said to you. The voice wasn’t Yoongi’s, but you still blame him. Now that you aren’t his thing anymore, you became free food to whoever had been waiting to make your life a living hell. You turn off your phone after an hour and go to sleep with the help of Hoseok’s joints.

The doorbell wakes you the next morning. You consider not answering because it’s probably just one of his goons wanting to terrorise you. But whoever is ringing the doorbell is stubborn, forcing you out of your bedroom. You look through the door cam first.

That young officer. He is in full uniform.

You open the door hesitantly.

“Good morning”, he greets you with a wave and a smile.

“Good morning”, you murmur. Your mouth is as dry as a fucking desert. You are also so hungry that you could throw up in his face right now.

“How are you feeling, Miss?”

“Good.”

“That’s good to hear.” He says and shows you a package which he kept hidden behind his back all this time. He smiles brightly and proudly. “Tada!”

“What’s that?”

“I caught the package thief, Miss.”

“Are you serious?” you gasp and your eyes instinctively drift to the car you have noticed parked outside your unit for days. The door is opened and someone is sitting in the backseat. He looked cuffed to the seat. You glance at the young officer and the shiteating, proud grin he is sporting. He has been watching you? Did Yoongi tell him to?

“Wait. You’re actually serious.”

“Very serious. For you, Miss”, he says and shoves the package into your face.

“Uhm, uh. Thanks”, you accept it, putting it under your arm. “Have you been watching me?”

“Did you notice the car? Sorry, I thought that I was better hidden. I’m still new to all of this. But I caught the thief, heh.” He points at himself with his thumbs. “That’s my first real arrest.”

He manages to drag an honest smile to your lips. He is kind of adorable in a way.

“That’s cool. Thank you for taking care of it. Now I’ve got nothing to worry about anymore.”

He grins and nods his head, studying your features afterwards. He opens his mouth.

“Jeon are you there? Over”, his walkie talkie interrupts whatever he wanted to ask you. He takes it off his chest harness.

“I’m here, Kim Sir. Over.”

“Come to the precinct. We need reinforcements. Over.”

“Coming right away, Sir. I caught a thief right now, Sir. Over.”

A pause where the higher officer is definitely baffled by his confession.

“Good job, Jeon. Over.”

The young officer giggles before he speaks again, doing so as seriously as possible.

“Thank you, Kim Sir. I am taking the criminal to the precinct. Over.”

“Understood. Over.”

He puts the walkie talkie back on its harness and gives you a sorry smile.

“That was my boss. My other boss, not your friend who is the boss of this boss. Anyways. I have to go now, duty calls. Are you going to be okay, Miss?”

“I am. Thank you for your kindness.”

“Anytime, Miss. Uhm, have a good day”, he says and leaves with a wave of his hand. He waves again as he drives off. You retort it, staring at his car until it disappears behind a corner. You sigh deeply. He is so nice. Why someone like him? Why does this life always find people like him?

It’s been ten weeks since you left him. You read somewhere that walks are good for your mental health. You still can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are still loud and still fucking stink. But it’s better than staying in your apartment. You’ve got new neighbours since Monday. They keep fucking like actual animals. They fucked when you left your place tonight. You were this close to kicking their door in and slaughtering them like pigs. You opted for a walk in the end.

You walk for a while then sit down by an empty bench next to the river. It is quiet. Nobody is really here. At least nobody important. A couple, how disgusting. A late night jogger, clearly a man. A homeless person, who uses another bench as their bed. You hate looking at homeless people because you feel helpless seeing them. You stopped being on the bright side of the law because of people like them. You thought that maybe if you stole from the corrupt men in power often enough, you would be able to help the ones who truly needed it. But you never managed to actually achieve anything. The homelessness in the city grows, while the pockets of the politicians become fatter and fatter in wealth. You fucking hate this city. It is rotten to the core.

“Look who we have here. If that isn’t our pretty little Hyacinth.”

You aren’t quick enough to get up to leave and then you already have two men throwing their arms over your shoulders while a third is grabbing the back of your head from behind. You try to reach for your knife but can’t. Their grip on you is too good.

“What are you doing here all alone?”

Their voices are familiar and one look at them confirms your suspicions. It’s them. The same three underlings who stole your groceries months ago.

“Leave me alone”, you tell them.

“Why should we? You are all alone. If the boss knew we’re leaving you alone, he’d grow angry.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Now, now don’t be like that. You’re just a girl and there are many dangerous men out there.”

You look to your side. One of them is licking their lips like a hungry animal.

“Yeah? And you’re being fucking inappropriate. Leave me alone”, you spit, shaking off their arms.

They let you. Just as they let you stand up and take your bag.

“Goodnight”, you tell them and leave. Quickly. You walk a good hundred feet until you finally dare to look over your shoulder only to realise in horror that they are following you. Quickly.

You can defend yourself. You know how to kill, but you also know when you are outnumbered. And three bigger men against a woman is sadly never going to end well for the woman. You hate this city and you hate this life. You know that their words were nothing but provocation. They know you aren’t with Yoongi anymore, that you aren’t under his protection anymore and that in some weird way, you sullied his honour. You also know how people who bring dishonour to the gangs of this city are punished. The men are murdered and the women, well, they are murdered too but not before being sullied themselves. You hate this city and you hate this life. This life which is going to fucking end for you soon.

You dare to look over your shoulder one more time. They are so close that you can see the hunger in their eyes. No. Nononononono. It can’t end like this. You were supposed to leave this city, start a new life, forget about Yoongi. You are not going to die here in this dirty, shitty park far away from your dream.

Thump.

You bounce back from the impact, letting out a blood curling scream. It was instinct. Just as it is instinct of the person you ran into to grasp you by your arms and pull you closer again.

“Let me go! Help! Help me!”

“Quiet”, the person hisses and shakes you. This voice sounded different. Familiar in an almost intimate way.

You dare to shift your eyes to them.

Yoongi.

“I, I, I”, you stutter, feeling delirious in both fear and shock. You grab his shirt, twisting it to get closer to him. The act is intimate and out-of-place but you are too frightened to think clearly. 

Yoongi brushes over the state of your glassy eyes to look over your shoulder. There are three men suddenly scurrying away, using the darkness to hide. He managed to get their faces.

He looks back at you. Your eyes meet. A little bit of clarity returns to you. What are you doing? Your fingers soften around his shirt. 

“I don’t…”

“Come on, we’re going home”, he say sternly and puts an arm around your waist, dragging you with him like this.

You follow him all the way to his car. You even let him sit you down on the passenger seat and you even stay seated when he rounds the car to get to the driver side. You think that you are in shock because you don’t protest when he starts the car, nor when he drives off. You simply stare outside with your knees turned to him because your body acts against your consciousness. The city passes you by in flashes of neon colours. His car smells like his cologne and leather. He has no music playing. 

Yoongi glances at your face. You have your head against the window, squeezing your hands between your thighs. The neon lights illuminate your features each time he passes by another light source. He can see that you are trying not to shake.

He takes a deep breath, shifting his eyes to the road. He has to grip the steering wheel, otherwise his hands would shake in anger.

“Should we get dinner?”

His voice rips you from whatever trance you were in. You sit up straight, looking at him. He is gripping the steering wheel to the point his knuckles pale. His long hair is hanging into his face tonight. A turquoise varsity jacket adorns him. His scar wasn’t hidden behind concealer. He wasn’t working his day job today. What was he doing at the park? Why was he there?

“Take me home”, you order him.

“I am.”

“No. Home. Not your place.”

“My place is your home”, he gets out through gritted teeth.

“No, it isn’t. Not anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Did you see what they were doing to me?”

“No.”

You are lost for words for a moment. The tears come afterwards.

“Stop the car.”

Yoongi looks at you because your voice was shaking. He holds his breath at the sight of your tears.

“What?” he makes sure.

“Stop. The. Car. Now.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

You pull the knife out on him. He swerves to the side on instinct, fixing the mistake so vigorously, you and he shake in the small space. You don’t let it affect you, holding the knife against his skin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses.

“Stop the fucking car or I’ll kill us both”, you spit, holding the knife against his throat.

“Fuck”, he growls and hits the steering wheel. The car rolls to a stop.

“Get out”, you threaten.

“I am. Fuck.”

He follows your orders because you have his life at blade’s end. He still slams the door closed. You leave the car instantly.

“What the fuck were you thinking? You could have killed us both” he tries to scold you, but you silence him.

“I’m talking now”, you roar.

Yoongi closes his mouth because he has never heard you like this before.

“You are such an asshole! Each day I regret the moment I met you! You are the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

Yoongi gulps. 

“I had a life before you. I had dreams and ambitions and, and goals and…a chance. I could have had a good life. I was supposed to use my degree to help people but you ruined everything for me.”

He rounds the car in big steps, coming so close to you that you smell his breath. It smells like chewing gum. 

“You could have achieved something? What exactly did you achieve as a lawyer? Mhm, what did you achieve? This city is fucked.”

“Yes, because you fucked it!” you hit his chest. He doesn’t budge, but also doesn’t stop you. “You fucked it and you fucked me and I hate you for it!”

“Don’t blame me for your decisions. I gave you a chance to leave me back then. You were the one who stayed.”

You inch closer until your lips are almost touching. Yoongi exhales shakily, placing his hand on your hip. 

“And I will regret this decision till the day I die”, you whisper, breaking the closeness.

You slip out of his hold. He follows you in a small stumble and a trembling gasp. 

“I never want to see you again. Are we clear?” you hiss at him.

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous, you don’t want this”, he hisses back at you.

“You’re wrong, I don’t want you. I thought I still did, but I don’t. You don’t care about me, it’s finally so fucking obvious to me. You don’t fucking care.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“They are terrorising me, Yoongi!” You finally scream. “I wake up to people ringing my doorbell in the middle of the night, I have to keep my phone turned off because the phone calls don’t stop. I keep getting my stuff stolen and, and I thought I was going to be raped tonight! They are terrorising me and you called it not your problem!”

“No, you-”

“I’ve been living in constant fear, our friends don’t even look at me anymore, I haven’t eaten in days and I can’t-”, you stop yourself. He doesn’t even deserve your anger anymore. “-you know what? Fuck this and fuck you. I’m leaving.”

You turn your back to him and leave. 

He says your name and takes your hand. He pulls, tries to turn you to him. But you rip yourself free again.

“Don’t go”, he says.

You don’t listen.

“I’m ordering you to stay”, he sounds desperate, yelling your name, “I am ordering you!” 

He can yell as much as he wants to. You don’t listen to him anymore. The subway station isn’t far. You will make an exception and take it tonight. Even if you hate it. It stinks. Just like the rest of this shitty city.

You are going to leave. Once you are home, you are going to start packing and then you are going to leave. You will call V. You don’t know his real name, but he can change your identity as quickly as others change their socks. You will call V and tell him to have your passport ready the day after tomorrow. You will pay him with the money you have under your pillow and then leave for somewhere clean. Maybe somewhere with lots of mountains. You always heard that the air at these places is breathable.

You call V the same night. He tells you that two days is too short and to wait another week. So you wait. Your bags have been packed. You live out of them in your own place. You don’t leave it. You are scared. With how little Yoongi cared about your situation, you doubt that he told his men to stop. You are scared that if you left again, they would finally go through with what they couldn’t finish back then.

The doorbell rings during a rainy, dark night. You flinch awake to the point where you feel sick to the stomach. The lights are turned on instantly eventhough you know not to do that in such a situation. You can’t think clearly. You just want this to be over. All of it.

You run to the front door because you suddenly feared that it was unlocked. It isn’t, but you can watch someone push an envelope under your door. The shadow blocking the light outside leaves the moment the letter is inside your apartment.

You don’t want to open it at first, staring at it as if someone had planted a bomb in your apartment. Fuck it, if that is how you die then so be it, you think in the end and bend down to pick it up. It feels different in your fingers. Sophisticated. Intimate. The envelope is glued closed as if someone licked the glue stripe and the faint smell of well-known cologne lingers on the paper. You open it with shaky fingers.

A letter. It is heavy and folded once. You open it, gasping when three photographs fall out of it and onto the ground. You don’t know what is on them because they landed on their face side. So you read the letter first.

“It has always been mine as well.”

Written in black ink and a familiar handwriting. This is Yoongi’s writing.

With even shakier hands, you pick up the pictures. You feel sick for a moment, gawking at the cruel pictures with your hand thrown over your mouth. The three men who terrorised you. Their mutilated corpses look back at you. He tortured them to death.

You rip the door open, stumbling onto the balcony. You look down at what tripped you. Two bags of your favourite takeout food and a six pack of water. Both clearly fresh. So it was him. Yoongi must be here somewhere. You look into the distance. The night is loud and blurry in a thunderstorm. The streets are empty. The ghost of your past is gone again. You squint your eyes. A person.

“Yoongi!” you call out, unable to realise that you are smiling and waving your hand.

The person moves. Oh. It was just the shadow of a tree. For just a moment you had hoped that the dark shape was him waiting for you. It was just a tree…and you were happy that if could have been Yoongi. The realisation hurts.

“Fuck”, you press out, going back inside. The lump in your throat makes it hard to breathe. You stumble back to bed, halting for a moment when you pass your suitcases.

It has always been mine as well. His words repeat themselves in your head. All this time, you thought that he didn’t care. All this time, you thought that your terror left him cold. Your eyes drift over the empty takeout boxes from the noodle place. You still haven’t cleaned them up. He made sure that you were properly fed for days back then. A glance at the new stuff he got tonight. He is still making sure that you are. Your eyes drift over the package next. He made sure that they stopped getting stolen. You look at the pictures in your hands. He made sure that they would never hurt you again. All this time, you were so blinded by your own anger that you missed how he had always looked out for you. You missed his way of showing you that you were important to him.

It has always been his problem as well.

Something inside you breaks and you scream. You don’t know what you scream for, but you scream. It hurts so much. It hurts so much because you will still leave. He will hurt you again if you stay. All his efforts healed your heart and it hurts so much because you will still leave. You were meant to stay broken hearted. Leaving would have been so easy this way. Now it hurts like a bitch. But you can’t sway. You have to leave this place. It will chew up what little is left of you until you truly cease to exist.

V comes to your place the next day. He rings your doorbell. It wakes you from the uncomfortable sofa you fell asleep on last night. You groan as you sit up and you barely want to open your eyes as you stumble to the door.

You open it without checking the camera first.

“Took you long en- you?”

Jungkook, the young officer, greets you with a smile.

“I swear I’m not stalking you.”

You have a headache today, so it is difficult not to snap at him. He is also not the person you wanted in front of your door today.

“I’m starting to doubt that.”

He laughs, “it’s not that. I talked to my boss. Your friend, the boss of the other boss. Sorry, anyways. I need you to come to the precinct with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Okay so, this is actually so cool and I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but you’re my boss’ friend so I guess it’s okay”, he begins with sparkling eyes, “turns out that the package thief is actually a serial thief and you aren’t the first one he stole from. Isn’t that cool? It’s like in those movies. Those cool cop movies.”

“Really? He stole from more people?” You highly doubt that.

“Yeah”, he laughs as he answers you, nodding his head excitedly, “now we’re calling in everyone who he stole from so we can take their statements. My boss says that we can’t keep the thief locked up for long otherwise.”

You know that this wasn’t really how the law works. After all, you were once a lawyer who was fucking good at her job. Is Yoongi trying to drag you back to him? First he tries to change your mind by killing your bullies and now he is trying to do the final blow by abusing his power as police chief? You check the time. Couldn’t the young officer have come later? You could have had your passport already and be far, far away from this place.

“Can I just give it to you here?” you ask him.

“Mhm”, he tilts his head to the side, “no, I don’t think that it works like this. I’m sorry, Miss. The captain said that it’s important that all the victims come into the precinct.”

You have to give Yoongi that. He is real clever about it. That means however that you can’t escape this situation. Any more resistance from you would make you suspicious.

You give up with a sigh. “Can I just change into something different?”

“Of course, Miss.”

The young officer lets you sit in the passenger seat. He is so new at all of this. With such naivety he tells you his entire life story. That he was from the countryside and that his dream has always been to be a policeman in the city. That he studied hard for years and that he completed his enlistment with honour just so he could be a proper officer. He sounds so proud of himself that each second with him makes you hate his presence more and more. He is so fucking stupid and it angers you. Why would he throw away his life like that? Why someone like him?

You are led to one of the precinct’s interrogation rooms and are told to wait there. The table is decked with different foods.

“What’s all that?” you ask Jungkook.

“Breakfast, Miss.”

“Did your captain tell you to do that?”

“He said that wanted to make sure you get your breakfast because we called you in so early. The captain really cares for the citizens.”

You stifle a scoff. Sure he does.

“Mhm, I see.”

“Either way, it won’t take long”, the young officer bids his goodbyes and leaves you in the interrogation room.

His words were a lie. You wait and wait and wait, but nothing happens. There are no clocks in this godforsaken room, but you still know that it has to be hours. You didn’t want to eat the breakfast at first, glaring at the two-way mirror because in your mind, Yoongi was behind it, watching you and making sure that you ate. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction at first, but had to in the end. The body begins working against one’s will when it is starving and the breakfast looked way too good. You eat all of it, then glare at the mirror again. You are still left alone and more time passes. It is as if they are trying to wear you down, as if you were the criminal in this situation. Granted, you are a criminal, but only Yoongi knows that and right now you are a poor civilian having done nothing wrong. You know that it’s Yoongi’s doing. That he somehow wants to terrorise you.

So when the door finally opens and he walks into the room, you almost throw the empty bowl at his head.

“Forgive the wait, Miss but something came up”, he says nonchalantly, flicking through some papers.

His second in command Kim Namjoon and the young officer Jeon Jungkook are behind him, which is why he is putting up this act. You grind your teeth.

“I already started to wonder if I’m in danger here”, you say way too sweetly.

“That depends on how you are going to answer our questions”, he says and sits down on the chair in front of you.

Jungkook stays by the door while Kim Namjoon stands a little to your side.

You look around yourself. He is trying to intimidate you.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I thought that I’m here to give my statement because of my stolen packages.”

Yoongi glances up from the papers. This is the first time your eyes meet after your fight and he killed your bullies. If only the others in this room would know how much blood he has on his hands and to which length he is willing to go to protect you. There were times where you would have dragged him over the table and kissed him senseless, but not anymore. You are stronger than your urges, even if it hurts your heart. You can’t give in again. If you do, he will take you for granted again. You won’t be happy with him. You finally have to fucking understand that.

“You’re right. You are here because of that”, he says dryly.

“Good. It started on May sixteen. I came home at around seven ten and noticed that my packages were missing. Two were stolen back then, but in total he stole eight packages”, you say and proceed to tell him the exact dates with the time as well as what was stolen.  

“You seem to know how such hearings work”, he says after he wrote down what you said.

“I had a few hours to practice what I was going to say”, you say with a poisonous smile.

One Yoongi retorts with just as much poison and a deep hum.

“Apologies again.”

“Don’t worry, I know how hard the police works at keeping this honourable city safe.”

He tongues his cheek. You give him a victorious smirk. This cut. Good. He takes a deep breath and releases it through his nose, reaching into his suit pocket to pull out a cigarette. He gets as far as to put it to his lips and then Kim Namjoon already speaks up.

“Captain. Smoking is prohibited in this building.”

“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out and takes the cigarette between two fingers to tap it against the table instead.

“Smoking is bad for you either way”, you say.

He tongues his cheek again. You know that he wants to curse at you right now, but can’t. He has to put up a friendly act.

“I know, can’t shake the habit”, he says and studies your face, “so what now?”

“Sir?” Kim Namjoon is rightfully confused. Yoongi slipped up.

“I don’t know, I was never in such a place before. Do you still need to take my information?” you act oblivious.

“We already have everything.”

“Great. Then I can go?” you ask, fluttering your lashes innocently.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Sir?” “What? Why?”

Yoongi shifts in his chair until he manspreads like an idiot. He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“What are you going to do now?” he asks you.

“Uhm…is this still part of my hearing?” you ask, glancing at Kim Namjoon.

“No of course not, Miss. Please, follow me.”

“Sit. Down.”

The room is silent for a moment. You glare at Yoongi while Namjoon and Jungkook gawk in complete confusion. Their captain acts out of character. There is no reason to keep the innocent lady here any longer. This isn’t like him at all. He has been fidgeting all day, barely drank his coffee, went for far too many smoke breaks and now this. The officers have no explanation for their captain’s sudden behaviour.

“What is the reason for this?” you ask him.

“Just safety precautions. We wouldn’t want our honest citizen to get into danger”, he says coldly, “now answer my question. What are your plans now, Miss?”

“I will go home.”

“Where is that home?”

“Sir, I don’t know if that is necessary.”

“Shut up, Kim.”

Namjoon gulps, exchanging a confused look with Jeon Jungkook. This is really not like their captain.

Yoongi straightens up and leans forward so he is closer to you.

“Where is that home, Miss?”

You lower your eyes in anger.

“I don’t know yet, I’m planning to leave this city.”

“What?” his voice shook as he spoke. His fingers close and break the cigarette that way. His eyes almost bore holes into yours from how deeply he stares into them.

“This city’s become too depressing for me. I plan on leaving it for good.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. There is nothing holding me here anymore.”

“Yes, there is.”

“No, there really isn’t. I will leave.”

Bang!

You flinched back. Namjoon and Jungkook tense up as well.

Yoongi slammed his hand on the table, jumping to his feet.

“No the fuck you won’t!” he yells.

“Sir? What are you doing?!”

“Excuse me? It’s my right as an honest citizen to move”, you act oblivious as well.

“Keep her here”, he talks to Jungkook, pointing at him, “lock her up and keep her here.”

“Under what pretence, Sir?” the young officer asks with widened eyes.

“I, I, I don’t know. Refusal to, to, to cooperate or some shit like that”, Yoongi never stutters and he never paces, but he is currently doing both of those things.

“Sir…is…this legal?” Jungkook asks shyly.

Yoongi is by Jungkook’s side within a few steps, grabbing him by the collar.

“Do as you are told, Jeon! Unless you want to lose this job!” Yoongi growls, making Jungkook whimper with fear.

“Captain Min, you are stepping out of place”, Kim Namjoon speaks up, dragging him away from Jungkook, “and get off this poor officer’s neck. He is just doing his job.”

Yoongi whips around, now targeting his anger at Namjoon.

“If he was doing his fucking job, he would lock her up”, he hisses, pointing at you.

“I need you to step out for a moment, Captain”, Namjoon says and gestures Jungkook to open the door. The young officer obeys, holding it open as Namjoon shoves a protesting Yoongi out of the room. He closes the door again, muting the vivid fighting Yoongi was doing with Namjoon outside.

He meets your eyes, smiling awkwardly.

“Please forgive the Captain, Miss. He is very concerned about his citizens’ safety.” He is a terrible liar, but you don’t blame him. If you were in his situation, you would have no idea how to explain such a situation to a supposed innocent citizen either.

“Don’t worry. I, I’m just wondering if maybe I can finally leave? I’m sorry, this just really scared me and I just want to lie down at home now”, you act shaken up, looking at the young officer with pleading eyes. 

“Of course, Miss. Our honest apologies again, Miss. Please follow me”, he says and leads you out of the room.

Yoongi and Namjoon are still arguing, but stop when they see you come out. You lock eyes with Yoongi for the briefest of moments. 

He closes the distance and grabs your wrist, dragging you with him with such vigour that nobody truly gets time to act. Not even you know what was happening to you until you find yourself in his office with the door slammed shut. 

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

“Shut the fuck up, you’re not the one asking this question right now!”

“Yoongi, lower your voice. This isn’t the place for screams.”

He steps closer to you, pointing at your face in warning.

“I have every fucking right to scream right now and you know that”, he presses out through gritted teeth.

“Why? Because I finally don’t need you anymore?”

“You can’t move. What the fuck are you thinking?”

“I’m-”

‘I'm not done”, he interrupts you, “I killed them for you. I did it. Just for you. Because your safety matters to me. I care.” He hits his own chest. “I showed you that I care and you’re gonna leave?”

You hate that you love him, but not for the usual reasons. You hate it because it hurts. You are going to leave despite not wanting to. You love him, perhaps you always will but you are also going to leave. 

You nod your head.

Yoongi exhales shakily, taking a stumbling step back. He stares at you as if you were the ghost whose haunting hurts him the most. He huffs out air, rubs his hand over his mouth, then runs it through his hair and down the side of his neck.

“I’ll kill the thief”, he says in the end.

“What?” 

“I'll make it seem like suicide. He’ll look like a pisser who couldn’t take prison and killed himself.”

“Are you out of your mind? He’s just a thief.”

“Well, what more do you need?!” he screams

“Nothing! I don’t need anything from you!”

“Why not? I can give you whatever you want!”

“Look at you. Now that you finally realised, I’m actually serious about the breakup, you wanna act like you care.”

“I care”, his voice broke, but you are both too angry to acknowledge it, “i-i-if I knew that you- I just-” He breathes in, breathes out, rubs his mouth, then his neck. “It can’t end like this. It can’t.”

“It can. I’m done begging you for everything.”

Yoongi steps closer.

“I can-”

“Sir? What is the meaning of this?” 

Kim Namjoon and Jeon Jungkook are in the office. The rest of the precinct gawks at you and Yoongi through the doorway. The latter lifts his hands and steps back. His fingers are shaking. 

“The captain just voiced his worries for my move. Don’t worry about it, Kim Sir”, you lie and turn to leave, “may I finally leave?”

Namjoon tells Jungkook to handle it with a nod of his head. The young officer points at the open door.

“Please after you, Miss.”

Yoongi says your name. 

You look at him over your shoulder, despite knowing you shouldn’t. He takes a step closer, lifting his brows in pleading. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. You ball your hands to fists and turn your back to him.

Yoongi tries your name again, hoping for another look. One which doesn’t come. 

“Come back”, he tries, but gets stopped by Namjoon.

You can hear them talk as you leave.

“What the fuck’s your issue, man? You’ve been weird all day and now you’re screaming at citizens?”

“Watch your tone.”

“Hyung, I’m not here as your colleague right now. I’m here as your friend.”

“She’s gonna leave, she can’t…”

Jungkook leads you away from the office before you can hear Yoongi’s full answer. 

“Are you crying, Miss??”

“Hm? Oh that, don’t mind them. It’s just…” Your heart is broken and you want to run back to Yoongi. “...forgive me, I’m just a little shaken from everything.”

“I’m sorry, Miss. The captain isn’t normally like this.”

“It’s alright. I know how Yoongi can be sometimes.”

“Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, glancing at the captain’s office. He wonders what kind of friends you and he are. Maybe Those kind of friends? Is that why you are important to the captain? 

“I mean…sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I just wish to go home now.”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Oh god, I don’t even have money for a bus ticket with me”, you murmur to yourself, looking for your wallet. This is all a scheme to get Jungkook to drive you home again. You are worried that if he didn’t, Yoongi would somehow get to you before you could reach the station.

“Don’t worry about it, Miss. As a policeman, it is my duty to make sure that you get home safely.”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“Of course, Miss.”

And so he takes you home and you hate yourself because of it. So it began. You were the first person who used his kindness to her advantage. You were the drop beginning the inevitable filling of the tank until one day it will swap over. And once that happens, it is almost impossible to stop the leak. Fuck, you are just as terrible as everyone else in this city.

But the young officer is oblivious to what you just did, driving you home with a kind smile on his face. He even walks you to your door and stays as you unlock it. Your neighbours are fucking again. He glances at their door, then awkwardly at you.

“Yeah, I’ve got new neighbours. You can’t go over there and flash your badge and tell them to shut up, can you?”

“Of course I can, Miss. Just one mom-”

“No stop, I was joking”, you stop him, studying him with exhausted eyes. You are so sorry. You are so fucking sorry.

“Ah, okay. Please forgive me, I always take everything way too seriously”, he says, scratching his own neck shyly. He furrows his brows. “What’s the matter, Miss?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Run.”

“What?”

“Run back to your hometown. Run and never look back.”

“Excuse me?” he laughs in confusion, furrowing his brows harder.

“You’re a good person, Jeon Jungkook. This city will fucking ruin you.”

“I…uh…” He laughs nervously. “I don’t seem to follow, Miss. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to get it, just listen to me. Please.”

“O…kay? I uhm…”

“Thank you for driving me home. I’ll think of you sometimes in my new home.”

“Miss, are you okay?”

“I am. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. Just promise me to run.”

“I promise?”

“Good. Be happy, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Miss, I-”

You close the door on him and lock it. You don’t expect him to knock or ring the bell. He is too proper to annoy you this way. You check the camera. He stares at the closed door for a few moments longer, looking confused. He lifts his hand to knock, hesitates and turns his back to the door instead, leaving down the steps to drive off. You know that you confused him, but you had to. Please let it be enough to save him.

V arrives later that day. He is stressed and clearly in a hurry.

“What’s wrong? You look like you need to be somewhere or like you need to shit. Do you need to shit?”

“What? No”, he sounds out of breath as well as annoyed, “I’m risking my ass being here. I’ve got your stuff. It’s the only thing except mine that I managed to save. Give me the money, quick.”

“Save?” you probe, giving him the money.

He stuffs it into his boxers hastily, looking over his shoulder again.

“My place got raided by cops. I was at the market getting food, then came back to five cop cars in front of my place. I barely escaped. If I didn’t always carry my stuff with me, I’d have been fucked.”

“What?!”

“Sorry, Hyacinth. Gotta leave the city for a while. I wish you all the best.”

“V, what the fuck?”

“Here’s to never seeing each other again, aye?” he jokes, laughing nervously. It’s a good thing he said. Never seeing each other again meant that you and he managed to escape safely.

“Wait. Where will you go?”

“I can’t tell you. You know I can’t.”

“Yeah, just…be careful.”

“You too.”

He leaves and you know that he will be successful. If there is one person who won’t ever be found it is V. 

You are in a trance for the rest of the day. Yoongi raided V’s place. He went as far as to betray his own people just to make sure that you wouldn’t leave. Carrying your new passport feels like a trophy, as much as it feels like a curse. Leaving this city won’t be as easy anymore now that he knows. You are so fucking stupid for telling him, but you didn’t want to miss out on his reaction when he found out. The small moment of satisfaction seems skippable now that you know how far he is willing to go to keep you close. And because V came as late as he did, your means of escape don’t drive anymore either. You have to wait for the earliest bus if you wanted to or not. Fuck, you did this to yourself. You stupid fucking woman. Look at you. You have this big, honourable degree and still manage to get yourself into shitty situations over and over again.

You go to sleep with a gun under your pillow. You won’t risk anything.

You don’t get a lot of sleep and then a noise wakes you. You heard it as clear as day. Someone unlocked your front door. He sent men to get you. Now he’s gone too far. You jump out of bed and grab your loaded gun, tiptoeing to a spot from where you could observe the apartment. You have to be strategic about it. First count the men, then calculate the fastest way to shoot them, then act. The door closes and locks again. Clever bastards, they want to make sure that you don’t flee. Oh, you are going to have a blast killing them. One last little thing to leave Yoongi before you abandon him.

The automatic lights turn on. Got you, assholes.

The first enters your vision.

“Hm?”

Yoongi. Clearly drunk, he is dragging his feet over the floor, using the wall as support. No one else follows him. So he came here alone. 

Overtaken by anger, you jump out of hiding and at him.

Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.

“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes. 

“I can’t believe you’re still hiding your keys under the flower pot. Don’t make me so worried, anyone could enter.”

“I’m gonna count to three and if you haven’t disappeared by then, I’ll shoot.”

“Can we talk?”

“One.”

“I know I fucked up. I can’t stop thinking about you. Please, can we try again?”

“Two.”

“I promise I changed. You were right, I was a joke. But I wanna do better now.”

“Three.” “I’m sorry!”

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut. His death never comes. He peels his eyes open again.

You are staring, panting heavily. Tears are in your eyes.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers.

This is the first time he is the one to say these words first. It feels so good, but you can’t give in again. You made up your mind to leave…didn’t you? You study the state of him. He is heavily intoxicated. He looks the way and reeks of it.

“You’re drunk.” 

He nods his head, furrowing his brows. He touches your elbows, caressing them softly. Such touch you only get when he is drunk.

“I drank because of you. What you said today. I just…don’t move away, please”, he begs, eyes filling with tears.

“So now you care? I wasn’t important to you when I was with you and now that I’m leaving, I’m suddenly important?”

“You’ve always been important.”

“No, I haven’t. You took me for granted.”

“I did and I’m sorry. I never should have taken you for granted. I’ll do better now, please just give me a chance to prove it to you.”

“If I give you a chance again, you’ll just abuse it and hurt me.”

“No, I won’t. Please, I just.” He cups your face, running his thumbs under your eyes as gently as possible. “We were right once. We were so good together. We were a team and, and we had dreams and we made each other happy. I want this back, I wanna try to get this back again please.”

“I just want to be happy, Yoongi”, you press out.

“I’ll make you happy, baby. Please, I-I’ll make you happy again.”

“No, you’re drunk and talking fucking shit.”

“I’ll leave this city if you want me to.”

You falter. He would give up what he built just for you?

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“I would. For you I would. I’d set this whole city on fire and leave with you as it burns to fucking ashes behind us, please.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Please”, he whispers and drops his forehead against yours, “please, I want to make you happy again.”

You hate that you love him. You hate that he made you addicted to him. This is so awfully him. He gives you enough affection that you get addicted to it then takes it away again. And once he feeds it to you again, you drink it up like an alcoholic. It is always the same. 

“No, you won’t. You’re drunk.”

“Please.”

“Leave my place.”

He presses himself off the wall and grabs the nuzzle of the gun, guiding it right between his brows.

“You have to kill me if you want me gone.”

You gulp. He forces your finger to the trigger. Your airways close up.

“Kill me. Fucking kill me. I can’t live without you anyways.”

You could end it. You’ve got everything. Your suitcases, your papers, the keys of his car he drunkenly drove like an asshole. You’ve got everything you need to escape this place. You could end it, finally make sure that you have no temptation to return. You could end him and your addiction with it. He’s got your finger on the trigger, it needs just one flex and it would be over. But you never wanted him dead. No matter how much you wished for him to be gone, you never wanted him dead. Because in some fucked up way, all you really wanted was for him to put more effort into you.

“No”, you whimper, shaking your head. 

He rips the gun from your fingers and drops it on your dresser. 

“I don’t want to kill you”, you press out, sobbing softly. 

He cradles your face, wiping your tears. 

“I know”, he gets out, nodding his head, “I know you don’t, princess. I know.”

“Yoongi”, you squeak out, twisting his shirt. 

“I’m here, princess. I’m here.”

He pulls you closer until his kiss is just one breath away, feeding on the shaky breath you let ghost against his lips. His drunken eyes gaze at your mouth, his heart is racing in his chest.

“Push me away”, he tells you.

“I hate you.”

“And I love you.”

“Yoongi”, you whimper, finally touching his chest instead of his shirt. 

He moans and pulls you into a kiss. A deep, hungry kiss. 

You pull at his hair to get him off of you as much as you pull him closer, fighting for air. You hate that you love…do you really? Do you really fucking hate it? Do you really hate it when his kiss makes you feel alive again? You spent months feeling out of breath and now it’s gone. You can breathe again. At least metaphorically, physically he’s got you very close to passing out. You push at him to get distance. Air. He lets you breathe, but not escape. He pushes you to your sofa until your legs collide with the back of it. Your shaky breaths intermingle, your shared moans follow. His right hand slides to your ass, his knee lifts to your middle. 

You gasp, grinding down on him. You can’t protest because he kisses you so deeply it feels as if he wanted to consume your soul. He kisses and gropes, kisses and gropes until air is sparse. He gasps.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m fucked”, he gets out and pulls your head back so he could drag his tongue up your throat. 

It should disgust you, but it doesn’t. You moan, running your nails down his chest and arching your back. He lifts his head, looking at you with drunken, crazed obsession. His fingers just can’t stay still on your body. It is as if he wanted to touch everywhere at all times. The attention makes you short of breath.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You touch his cheek. He leans into your palm, closing his eyes when you trace his scar. You were with him when he got it. It was during a fight. He fought with his fists, his opponent chose the cowardly way and pulled a knife on him. He was lucky that he didn’t lose his eyesight. He hated it at first, but you made him feel handsome. You always looked out for him that way.

“Do you…do you think I’m handsome?” he asks. Such questions you only get when he’s drunk. 

“I do.”

His breath trembles as it leaves him. He drops his hand from your hips to take out his cock. He touches himself, gazing at you as if he needed the view of you to stay hard. And he does. He needs you. You are the only person who can turn him on.

You look at what his hand is doing, gulping heavily. He sighs, gazing at your face. You are as mesmerised by him as you were when everything was still good between you and him. His cock still has the same effect on you.

“Princess?” he tilts your head back up to meet your eyes, using only two fingers under your chin for it. 

You meet his eyes, heart racing unbearably.

“Yes?” One little lift of his brows and you give him the answer he craved. 

You part your legs, tilting your hips closer to him. You nod your head vigorously, gazing at his cock again.

He doesn’t bother to pull his pants down all the way, neither does he care about taking off your panties. He pushes them to the side and stuffs you full of him, gripping the edge of the couch and your right thigh as deep moans leave him. Your right leg is lifted like this, supported by him.

You gasp, tensing up. Your toes curl instantly, your fingers clutch his lower arms. His cock stretches you out and stuffs your walls. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is definitely intense. You gasp again, looking at him with widened eyes.

“I know baby, I know”, he breathes and bottoms out. “It’s been too long. Fuck.” 

He moves, chasing your warmth in drunk, sloppy thrusts. You writhe and gasp repeatedly, scratching the back of his neck. You want to hate that you love him. He should feel like an intruder. You should want to kick and scream for help. But you don’t want to. You feel whole again. No preparation, but he doesn’t hurt. His kiss and touch was enough. Your addiction to him runs so deep that his cock is pure heroin to you.

“Yoongi”, you get out, grabbing his throat. Your thumbs are on his Adam’s apple, threatening to press down.

He smiles, “I love you”, he gasps out and drops his head against yours. His long hair tickles your face, his drunken breath swirls over your skin. He gulps and moans under your fingers, pumping into you with no signs of slowing down. You start losing strength in your calf, standing like this is exhausting, but if you were being honest, you don’t want it to stop. 

“I hate you.”

“Fucking kill me then”, he rasps.

You close your fingers slightly.

“Harder. This isn’t gonna do it.”

“You first.”

“Fuck, baby”, he gets out and lifts you so he could round the sofa with you. He pins you down into the pillows, ripping the panties off of you and kicking his pants off. He pushes into you before you can truly realise what was happening, feeding you all of him until he can’t give any more. He twists the pillow next to your head as he takes on a punishing rhythm. His dark hair hangs into his face, his teeth are bared as he huffs like an angry animal.

“Yoon-”

“I know, baby I know. You already told me, baby. I know”, he whispers, wiping your cheek, “take me, I know you can. You’re my baby, you’re made for me.”

His praise is like medicine to you. This is all you needed. To know that he is still obsessed with you and that you still affect him. 

You close your legs around his hips, keeping him with you this way. You need him to always stay like this. He moans your name, slipping his fingers from your cheek to hold the pillow instead. You told him that you hated him, but your body betrays you. Your eyes betray you. You keep him close, gaze at him as if he was your everything. Yoongi’s head is turning. Not only from the alcohol, but also from being with you again. And from knowing that you still loved him.

Because he loves you so much. He hates himself for taking you for granted. He never should have. You are his everything. The fucking reason why he does all of this. The last three months were torture for him. He started smoking again, drank too much, slept too little, worked too many hours. And if he didn't distract himself with work, he tried thinking up ways of showing you that he was still there for you. He ordered his officers to look out for you, sent food deliveries to your place, parked in front of your place somewhere hidden to watch you smoke on the staircase. He also followed you sometimes after you confessed to him that some of his goons were terrorising you. And each time he followed you, he wished for you to notice him just so he could get a chance at talking to you again. But you never did and Yoongi thought that you will come back again soon. Then you told him that you would move and Yoongi finally broke. He was truly losing you. Three months of hell, of lonely nights and heartbreak and he was truly losing you. 

“I missed you”, he gets out, painting his name against your favourite spots. The eagerness with which you clasp him results in your hips to lift off the pillow, allowing your clit to grind against him each time he bottoms out. The necklaces he is wearing are tangling over your face. They were too long once, but Yoongi cut them to the perfect length so they wouldn't hit your face when you are underneath him. That was six months ago. During a time you thought he didn’t care anymore. You feel so stupid now. His way of showing you that he cared was always there. He was always looking out for you. You were just too blind to see. 

You gasp and whimper, mewl and keen, looking up at him with teary eyes and your fingers closing around nothing. You can’t tell him that you missed him too because you are too overwhelmed. 

“Did you miss me too?” but Yoongi is drunk tonight and when he is drunk he is needy for your affection. 

You nod your head. 

“Say it.”

“I missed you”, you get out, following it up with a sob. 

“Baby, I love you”, he croaks, wiping your tears before dropping his forehead against yours, “I love you, baby, I love you. Don’t leave me again, please.”

“You’re so drunk.”

“Yeah, drunk ‘cause of you. Thought I’ll lose you. Baby, I can’t lose you”, he croaks and shows you his honesty with passionate rolls of his hips. Somehow he goes even deeper than before, he hits your favourite spots even better. 

You arch your back and scream his name, throwing your head back as best as possible. This is electric. Holy shit, he makes you feel good. Your face scrunches up against your will, your feet shake on his back. 

Yoongi admires you with a pounding head and racing heart, repeating what he did before over and over and over again. You react in mewls and moans and screams and he can’t get enough of it. He wants for you to lose your fucking voice because you couldn’t stop screaming for him. Because if you sound like this for him, he makes you happy. It has been too long since you actually screamed this way, so Yoongi is especially affected by tonight.

He laces his fingers with yours – again, he is drunk – and squeezes them needily. He thinks that he is crying too. He watches pearls of something drip onto your face sometimes. His eyes also burn. He doesn’t want it to stop. He is willing to carry his emotions on his sleeve if it meant you were happy again.

“Is this what you needed? Does this finally make you fucking happy?” he gets out, chasing the ecstasy as much as he helps you with your own pleasure trip.

You squeeze his hands back, making him moan your name.

“Ye-yes.”

“Argh”, he growls, trying so much harder to fuck you right. It feels so good. He has to tell you. He stayed silent way too often in the past. You want his efforts and he wants to give them to you. “You feel so good.”

The first confession was hard because he isn’t used to sharing his feelings. It was hard, but it was also ecstatic because your sounds of pleasure became louder and you tightened around him, squeezing his hands happily. 

“You feel so good. You feel so fucking good. You feel so good, princess. You feel…so good”, he can’t stop now that he started, telling you over and over and over again how you make him feel. Good. So good. He feels so good when he is with you. “You are so good. Princess, fuck. I have to..I, I have to- ah!” 

You open your eyes in time with Yoongi collapsing on top of you. He whimpers into the crook of your neck, shaking almost pathetically.

There are two things you always believed to be true about Yoongi. First: When he fucks, his moans are always deep, raspy and growly. Second: He has perfect control over his orgasms. 

Both of these things are getting proven wrong to you right here and now as he whimpers and shakes and paints your walls with his unexpected orgasm. You want to blame the alcohol on it and maybe the months of abstinence, perhaps even the fear of losing you paired with the relief of having you again. Holy fuck, he actually loves you doesn’t he?

“I love you”,  he sobs, hugging you close. 

“Yoongi ah”, he breaks you with his confession and the tenderness with which he holds you. You swear that you can taste colours for a moment. You haven’t felt honestly good in your own skin in months. This right here is what feeling good is. This is it. 

You don’t know who comes down first. You think it is Yoongi, but even if he does, he doesn’t pull out. He lets you shake and throb and clench around him until your moment of peak pleasure is over as well. He holds you silently afterwards, catching his breath in the crook of your neck. He missed your scent like nothing else. Truly, it leaves him so drugged out that he actually finds himself drooling as he smiles like a giddy boy. 

You calm down with his weight atop your chest, his length still inside you and his hair between your fingers. It is still a little stiff and crusty from the variety of hair products he keeps in it during his day job. To think that mere hours ago, you were screaming at each other in his office. It feels so far away to you now. Like a memory of an unbelievable life.

You don’t hate that you love him. You really don’t. 

“How.” He clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Are you sore? Does anything hurt?”

“No, but I’m leaking.”

“Fuck”, he laughs into your shoulder, nibbling on it gently, “sorry, I just…am drunk and missed you.”

“You were pathetic doing that.”

He laughs harder. You and he have a peculiar sense of humour. He knows that you meant it fondly. You laugh as well. He lifts his head at the sound of it, cupping your cheek. 

“If it means you’re laughing, I can live with being pathetic.”

Your heart flutters.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Booze. Way too much booze.”

You laugh again. His eyes soften, he caresses your face. 

“Definitely too much booze, yeah”, you agree.

“Mhm, fuck.” He cuddles into your shoulder again. “I’m sleeping here.”

“And you think I’d let you?”

He nods his head.

“Fuck, you’re the worst.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not.”

You wake up alone the next morning. It hurts. So nothing changed. He got what he wanted, made you addicted again only to leave. Like he always did. And you are left feeling dirty and used and fucking awful. 

You probably would have stayed in bed to cry the entire day if a very worrying noise hadn’t come from outside your door. Someone’s in your kitchen. You roll out of bed and leave the room. You don’t need weapons today. You are angry enough that you will probably be able to beat whoever is dumb enough to break in. 

You cross the corner and stop, lowering your fists.

Yoongi. 

He took a shower and tied all of his wet hair into a messy bun. He is shirtless, wearing a towel around his hips. Music is playing from his phone while on the stove, breakfast is sizzling. 

“You?”

He turns at the sound of your voice, face lighting up instantly. 

“Good morning, beautiful”, he says, closing the distance to take you into a hug. “Did you sleep well?”

You don’t answer him, you push at his chest so you could look at him. You can’t believe that he is still here and that he is making you breakfast.

“What’s the matter?” he asks. 

“Why the fuck are you still here?”

He furrows his brows, “why not?”

“I, I don’t know. I just, just. I thought that…huh? You didn’t leave?”

He frowns in regret for a moment, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. He gives your left buttock an almost playful squeeze afterwards, stepping back to return to the cooking.

“I’m making your favourite. I also cleaned. Your place was a shithole, honestly.”

Still flabbergasted beyond relief, you look around your small apartment. He didn’t just clean up the garbage and tidy, he fully wiped the place down. You check the clock next. It’s way past one at noon. You slept for more than twelve hours. Damn. You never even realised how much sleep these last three months took from you until you finally fell asleep in his arms again and actually stayed asleep. You feel refreshed and not uncomfortable in your own skin. 

Last, you look at Yoongi. He is humming to the music, switching between stirring the eggs in the pan and chopping up some pork belly. 

At first you don’t want to accept that this is actually happening to you, but then the desire to be close to him gets too grande to bear. You almost run to him, colliding with his back in a passionate hug. 

He stumbles and grunts, following it up with a fond chuckle and his big hands rubbing your lower arms. 

“Please don’t make me regret this again. Please.”

He turns in your arms, caressing your waist. He shakes his head, looking at you in ways he hasn’t looked at you in ages. As if he honestly loved you. 

“Can you promise me?”

“I promise you, baby”, he says in a soft voice and locks pinkies with you. 

The gesture is so cute and honest, that you have to stifle a giggle. Your heart hasn’t fluttered like this in ages.

“I have an idea. How about I’ll take next week off and we’re leaving this city for a while? Maybe the mountains? You’d like the air there”, he suggests. 

“Are you serious? Do you actually mean that?”

He nods his head. You and he began swaying to the music, looking at nothing else but the other. 

“But first I gotta sort out the mess I made when I busted V’s place”, he says.

“Yeah true.” You slap his chest. “Fuck you for that. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, I know. I acted irrationally, I admit. But I’m gonna fix this. You know how easily I can make stuff disappear. He’ll be able to return again in a week or so.”

“I hope you’ll fix this, you idiot you.”

“Mhm, I will and then I’m taking you on a long vacation”, he says, kissing your forehead before hugging you against his chest.

You close your eyes, melting into his chest. 

“And when we’re there, I’m gonna make you breakfast and make you cum and make you smile. Yeah?” he whispers.

“Yeah”, you snicker.

He smells like your shower gel today, but you don’t mind. He hasn’t shown such an actual desire to change in months and it feels so good to receive. You love that you love him. You really do. 

“I love you, Yoongi”, you whisper, feeling him squeeze you for just a moment as your confession overwhelms him. 

“I love you too, princess”, he tells you and he is sober for it because he swore to himself that he won’t need alcohol anymore to be able to show you his affection. 

He is willing to better himself, he truly is and a week later, you and he are in his car on your way to a long vacation in the mountains.

[dreamesamu]

THE THINGS HE TAKES FOR GRANTED

in which he takes a moment to justify himself after never noticing your little crush for him

starring. msby!miya atsumu x fem!reader

genre(s): angst to fluff, long scenario sets in post-timeskip!

warning(s): reader is nice and overworks herself. not proofhead i apologize

author’s note: It's kind of not what i had imagined but hope you enjoy it.

choose your character: m. atsumu | k. akaashi

another cliché beginning for the person you are right now - the MSBY team manager - is that you’ve loved the miya atsumu since high school. it’s not like being the team’s manager isn’t your dream, you loved this job and had been dying to do it because you’ve loved volleyball, too. plus, you will have the opportunity to stay close and take care of the team, especially your crush who just merely thinks you are his best friend.

you first laid eyes on him when you were sitting alone on the subway, his dyed-blonde locks caught your attention as he first talked to you about the chase atlantic’s song you were listening to, he was cute, warm and friendly. at that moment, you were verified that he wasn’t the guy who was fond of his fan girls that everybody had been rumoring about. He eventually found out that you guys went to the same high school, so as to start a new beginning of your bonding friendship.

It wasn’t long until you finally realized that you might have adored the pretty setter a little too much than usual. his touches, his smile, the way he calls your name and his genuine characteristics when he was used to you being around seemed a little bit more easy to flutter your heart than every other day. Ever since then, you just hid your feelings and was grateful for what you got right then because you knew that if you confess, you couldn’t get this best friend treatment that you silently fell for for any longer.

You impressed yourself for even keep it until now. you and him are mature and beautiful, but you still can’t help but feel so ‘high school’ when you look at him. the least thing you could do for a friend (crush) is care for him through bottles of flavored electrolyte water, preparing his favorite after-practice snacks and even cool and soft towels to calm the heat down after a match. However, it seems like mr. miya doesn’t notice all of the hard work you did for him, he was so used to be taken care of by you that he accidentally failed to realize the special treatment only for him but nobody else.

“Hey, tired yet? you can call it a day for now if you want?” you smiled, hand over his bottle of water you prepared for him to the softly panting atsumu taking a break on the bench. He is quite preoccupied with his earlier techniques that he need to improve, he only spares you a glance then takes the bottle to drink without saying any words, you assume that he is in a bad mood.

“oh, and” you search for the thing in your bag. “here, your towel”

he nods and takes it, it makes you feel awkward. that’s… all…? You try to not overthink yourself, after all, it was quite a tense match, and the fact that your team will have an important volleyball game the next month proves his concerns are valid.

you watch atsumu leave when hinata shoyo came up to you.

“oh? isn’t that our manager?” you startle at his voice. “hehe, please don’t mind tsumu at all, please, he just got pissed because he made a mistake during practice” the sunshine grins, having him around surely just brighten everything up, because he is just so sweet and comfortable to be with.

“no, no,… I really don’t mind at all, actually” you know atsumu better than anyone so you don’t take his actions to heart sometimes, it’s just…

“oi, oi! I know what you’re thinking, I saw you overthere doing things for tsumu. This guy, honestly…” Hinata sure saw you earlier with enthusiasm written on all over your face while preparing those towels and bottles, he felt bad for you and decided to cheer you up regardless atsumu has just cracked your poor heart a little.

“It’s okay, hinata. thank you for checking on me!” you smile wide, so my efforts wasn’t invalidated at all, gratefully bow down to see the awkward hinata trying to stutter words out.

“no- no, don’t do that, you are our manager, that’s just nothing! besides, seeing you give tsumu so special treatment makes me real jealous!!” he huffs cutely. “I really want that flavored electrolyte water, too! what a shame he wouldn’t notice.”

you laugh sheepishly as you guys return to your dorms to rest. things have been going hard for you like crazy, the work amount weighing on your shoulders make it almost unbearable, but you still stay strong and put a warm smile on your face so nobody would notices. you have been thinking of retiring just in case the situation just got worse to the level of destroying your mental health. but, by thinking of your small joy of seeing atsumu everyday, you hesitated.

your sleepless nights start when the important games take a step closer, you overworked yourself and often feel burnt out, your time with atsumu narrows as you find it hard to start a conversation even in lunch break. atsumu does feel weird. why isn’t y/n sit with us? she is nowhere to be found these days.

“hey, tsum-tsum” said bokuto. “what do you think of y/n?” he said, putting a tray of food on the table while making his way to sit.

“y/n? what’s with her?” the fake blond raises a brow, munching on his food

“I think she’s so cute and thoughtful, base on her affection for you, i betcha she’s completely smitten” the owl laughs as the other teammates giggle along. “you should consider on dating her, what a waste if you don’t, she’s literally girlfriend material, same thoughts huh, hinata?” he winks and the tangerine head give him back a thumbs up.

“dating y/n, huh?” atsumu laughs as if he doesn’t take bokuto’s statements seriously. “I don’t date my friends, you know. besides, y/n is just a close friend of mine, she ain’t my type”

“heartless tsumu… she worked so hard for you these days…” hinata fake crying when talking about you

“I know that she makes snacks and does things for me, but sometimes, that’s just unnecessary, i don’t need it to be all the damn time, it feels a little annoying, i just need to be alone to refresh my thoughts” he sighs. “now you told me to consider on dating her, i wouldn’t know how long i can take it.”

now there is dead silence following his statement, everybody just awkwardly continues finishing their lunch, and you do know eavesdropping is a thing that you shouldn’t do. but you did. before you even notice, hot streams cover your face and you feel your breath hitches. the coach sends you to check on the team at such wrong timing, you can’t face them, the voices earlier destroy your confidence, replace it with angst and hurt. so… what i did is just a bother to him, huh. you realize now, that you were such a dumbass trying to make him catch feeling by all of this. and with the tiniest amount of pride left, you back up a smile and step into the cafeteria, the atmosphere suddenly feels tense as everybody hasn’t been moving on since their last conversation, atsumu feels an uneasy feeling when he sees you behind him, guilt? he thinks.

“hey… coach sent me to check up on you guys, please be well rested at your dorms after lunch, we have practice match at 2pm, alright?” your voice evidently trembles, you try cover it up with some fake coughs. oh, who are you kidding? it’s atsumu miya we’re talking about. he first notices how your eyes are a bit swollen, have you been crying? your tired figure due to sleepless nights, the way you haven’t eaten properly shows right in front of his eyes. he suddenly felt a twinge in his heart, in which moment he never wanted to see you like this, ever again. but, what’s all this for? he doesn’t like you… right? because- you’re his best friend, and caring is what’s best friends do, am I correct?

you left the cafeteria. atsumu feels like his whole head is going to explode, he regrets what he said earlier, knowing seventy per cent that you might have listened to it. he is weak because of guilt and distaste. the group feels uneasy and moody all of a sudden.

“i haven’t told you this before but you’ve seen her now, tsumu… she overworked herself with this huge amount of work with nobody beside her, yet she still maintaining to take care of you with these small gestures.” hinata sighs heavily. “y/n told me not to tell you about her state so you can concentrate on practising, but I’m really worried because now she can’t even hide it anymore. I tried to help, but she pushed me away and told me that i should do my own practices as our game is going to start soon.”

hinata pats atsumu’s back before leaving as if he’s signalling him to make it up to you. atsumu started to cry at this point. how could he be so clueless? he didn’t even know that his best friend was undergoing such pressure, yet why does the term “best friend” sound so irritating? he felt like he had failed to protect you and worse, hurting your feelings and he regretted it, so badly.

The following day comes, atsumu's first task is to search for you. To his astonishment, you are once more nowhere to be found. he was so preoccupied, his spikes aren’t as good, and he could not concentrate on practising, the coach sent him out, and gave him a moment to rethink by himself. and so, he reaches a staff, asking for information about you.

“Y/n? oh… she’s at the infirmary, we noticed her devastated state so we sent her to the doctor a while ago. now think about it I might write a report to the coach asking him to reduce the amount of work she’s handling.”

“thank you, kind sir. may I be the one who’ll write the report? I’m sure I could convince the coach.”

as the man nods, atsumu bowed goodbye to him and sprints to the infirmary where you’re at. he knows, that if anybody should write a report for you, it must be him. he must protect you because he has just realised it now, he likes you a lot more than he could imagine.

“Y/N!” atsumu slams the door open, he faces you with your eyes widened, startled by the bright window.

“tsumu…?” you softly speak.

atsumu in front of your eyes is the atsumu who tries to hold back his tears, biting his bottom lip as the poor heart lurching somewhere in his stomach but somehow still happy because he has found you.

“hey…” he kneels down on one knee beside you. “i’m sorry, angel” his hand softly squishes the smaller one, it holds back gently on his’

in all of the things you dislike, what you utterly don’t want to deal with is your emotions when you see atsumu looking so vulnerable like this. you instinctually grab a tissue and wipe off the sweat drop on his forehead the moment you see it, atsumu’s worried expression won’t vanish unless you speak up something.

“hey…” you smile. “don’t worry, I’m okay now, tsumu” you fondly touch his face with a hand, and he sinks in your touch, eyes glittering. atsumu intentionally plants a soft kiss on your warm palm and watches you go weak for him.

“i like you, y/n” he sighs. “i don’t want us to be just friends. i want to protect you, want to be the kind of guy who mentally support his girl to help her cope with any pressure.”

he looks up to see your widened eyes, without a response, he continues.

“i’m sorry i said the things i didn’t mean when you were there, I was just…" he gulps nervously and you sigh.

"tsumu... if it's too much for you to bear, maybe i should stop doing those things, okay?" you scoff bitterly, he becomes panic

“no, no, no,... i really like the way you care for me, please, i want your attention. please keep doing it. don’t get tired of me…”

you can feel the pulse bumping in your nerves, your heart flutters, and blood rushes into your cheeks just by hearing his confession. you kneel down beside him, fighting back the tears but then you can’t, so you squish him in a hug. atsumu holds you back as you start sobbing on his white shirt, inhales fondly your intoxicating smell and pats rhythmically on your back

“there, there, my angel. i’m here now. i’m sorry i’m late. let me make this up for you, yeah?” he chuckles.

atsumu loves his girlfriend. after hearing you ramble about your tight schedule, he immediately writes a report based on your experience to inform the coach about your condition so that everyone can share in your responsibilities instead of you having to handle everything alone. it wasn’t that long for the msby mates to realize you guys are together, he wrote in that report that he is your boyfriend, anyway.

“you nailed it, tsumu-kun” hinata bumps him with a thumbs up, atsumu responds with a sheepish grin while bokuto laughs beside him and sakusa just doesn’t really give a shit. 

he spots you standing on the opposite road near the brand new cafe, waving back to him smiling, “nah, gotta run. gonna treat my girlfriend with extra pastry today.”

i guess he is the simp now.

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a recommendation to cope with your broken heart <3