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hollywoodxwhore · 2 years ago

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Mine | Chapter Ten

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), alcohol and marijuana usage, swearing, discussions of virginity, vulnerability, grinding, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving)

Buckle up, y'all. The moment you've been waiting for: Presley loses her virginity to Colson. I appreciate all the feedback!

Presley

Olivia and I are backstage while the boys perform, and as much as we like watching them, we decided to sneak away to her dressing room for some quiet. She sips a beer and I take hits off my pen every so often. She seems so relaxed, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been so jittery in my life. I can’t believe I told Colson I was ready.

It’s not that I was being dishonest. I am ready. He could’ve taken me the first night and I would’ve been okay with it. But no matter how much I trust him, this is a big step for me. Actual penetration, to me, is the closest two humans can be. I want it to live up to the hype. I’m also scared of getting more attached than I already am.

I’ve zoned out for the fourth time during only one story of Olivia’s, and finally, she huffs at me, but her eyes are playful. “Pres,” she says. “Where the hell are you?”

I smile sheepishly. “Sorry,” I say, shaking my head to try to snap myself out of it.

She studies my face and I shift uncomfortably under her scrutiny. She narrows her eyes at me. “Hey, Pres?” she asks.

“Y-yeah?” I answer, my mouth feeling extremely dry. I reach for my water bottle and take a shaky sip.

“Can we stop pretending I don’t know about you and Colson?” Her tone is casual and calm, but it ignites a fire in me and I startle, eyes widening. Oh god. I’m nauseous. How does she know? Does this mean Cash knows? Holy fuck – “Cash doesn’t know,” she says, interrupting my thoughts. “In fact, he’s the most oblivious person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh thank god,” I breathe, slumping a little in relief. “Liv, you can’t tell him–”

“Relax, Pres,” she says, putting a perfectly manicured hand to my knee, “I won’t. It’s not my business.”

I bite my lip hard. “How do you know?”

She shrugs. “People act differently once they’ve fucked,” she says simply. “It becomes pretty obvious.”

I blink at her. “Colson and I haven’t…” She gives me a look and I shake my head. “Honestly! We’ve done other stuff, but we haven’t had sex. I’ve, um, I’ve never even…”

Olivia raises a brow. “Wait. You’re a virgin?” she asks. My cheeks redden but I nod. “No way,” she says, covering her mouth. “No offense, but it shocks me that Colson is pursuing you.”

I flinch a little. “He’s different than he seems, Liv,” I say quietly. “He…he asked me to be his girlfriend earlier today.”

Olivia is silent for a moment, and then she lets out an incredulous laugh. “I’ll be damned. Holy shit. It’s about time,” she says.

“For what?” I ask, brow furrowing.

“For Colson to stop moping over Megan and find someone actually good for him,” she says. “I mean, I see the way he looks at you, but I didn’t think he was ready to try romance again.”

I shrug, and I can’t help the little smile that crosses my face. “Yeah. He’s…he’s so sweet, Liv,” I tell her, and she softens, smiling. “He’s so gentle and patient and he just gets me, you know?”

“I do know,” she says, eyes sparkling, and I smile when I realize she’s talking about Cash. And then, anger flares inside me.

“Do you know that Cash has been telling Colson not to pursue anything with me?” I ask.

Olivia shakes her head quickly as if to clear away the disbelief. “Wait, what?!”

“Yeah,” I say sharply. “He’s told Colson several times now not to try anything with me.”

Olivia snorts. “Well, Cash is a dumbass then, seeing as he’s made you room with Kells so many times,” she says.

“Exactly!” I say. “Although, I guess you did say he’s oblivious.”

“Blinded by his own relationship,” Olivia says knowingly, nodding slowly. “It isn’t Cash’s business who you date.”

“Exactly what I said!” I say. “But Colson told me I should wait until the tour ends. Otherwise Cash might blow up and leave the tour.”

Olivia frowns. “That’s not fucking fair,” she says.

I shake my head. “No, I agreed, Colson isn’t wrong–”

“No, Cash is wrong,” she says. “It’s not fair that he gets to enjoy his relationship and you and Colson have to hide.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” I mutter. “But my brother is stubborn as fuck. I wouldn’t put it past him to do some dumb shit like punch Colson or leave the band.”

Olivia winces. “That would be really bad.”

“I know.”

Olivia sighs. “Okay. So you wait ‘til the end of tour. That’s not so bad, right?”

I shrug weakly. “I guess not. Just sucks because I want to be unashamedly all over my boyfriend.” The word feels weird in my mouth, but I like the way it sounds. My boyfriend. Colson.

Olivia smiles slowly. “Fuck all that. I’m so happy for you guys,” she said. “I couldn’t have handpicked someone better for Kells, honestly.”

“Thank you,” I say, beaming.

“Now, can we go back to the virginity thing?” she asks, and my smile fades, but I nod.

“If I can manage to room with him,” I say, “we’re going to tonight.”

Olivia’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit,” she says. “I’ll make it happen. Don’t you worry.”

“Really?” I ask, nerves and excitement dancing in my belly.

“Yes, of course!” she says. “This is a big deal, Pres!”

“I know,” I agree, wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs. “I’m a little scared.”

Olivia softens and pets my leg. “From what it sounds like, Colson will be so good to you,” she says. “Just be honest with him. Don’t rush it.”

“It’s gonna hurt,” I say with a wince. “He’s…sorry. He’s your friend.”

“Oh, his dick is huge,” Olivia says bluntly. “We all know it. We’ve all seen Kells naked at one point or another. We’ve all walked in on him fucking, too.”

I cringe. “Yeah. Me too.”

Olivia winces sympathetically. “Yeah. Kells is– was– a manwhore. We love him, though.” She studies my face. “Hey,” she says. “It might hurt. But my advice is to do a shit ton of foreplay. Like, a lot. Have an orgasm before you even have sex, if possible. It’ll make it easier.”

I blush. I’ve never had a girlfriend to talk about this with before, but it’s nice not to be carrying this alone. I trust Olivia, and I really like her. I’m glad she agrees that Cash is being a douche. It tells me how good she is for my brother.

“I’ll figure out the hotel situation,” she says. “Your job is to enjoy tonight.”

Olivia is amazing, and she came through. She told Cash that she and I were planning on rooming together tonight but that she was missing him, and he gladly switched rooms with me, all too focused on his relationship. I’m furious at him, but I pretend that I’m not. He’s too wrapped up to notice something’s off with me.

Besides, my happiness with Colson makes up for it. I’m in pure bliss, knowing he’s mine and I’m his. I’m a mix between giddy and nervous as I lie on the hotel bed. Colson is in the shower. He insisted he take one even though I assured him I don’t mind being with him, post-concert and sweaty. It’s kind of endearing actually. He cares so much about this. He wants it to be perfect, I can tell.

So do I. I fluctuate constantly between scared and turned on. Once Colson is out of the shower and here with me, I’ll feel better. He turns off the shower and I tense up, fidgeting on the bed. This is happening. This is happening very soon.

Colson comes out of the bathroom in a pair of boxer briefs, hair still wet and messy from being towel dried. He looks amazing, as always. I love the way his briefs hug him just right, and I have an urge to tell him to turn around so I can check out his ass, but I can’t seem to find my voice.

He crosses the room to me, standing at the side of the bed, and reaches out to tuck my hair behind my ear. “How you doing, pretty girl?” he asks softly.

I bite my lip and reach out for him. “Good,” I say, voice nearly a whisper. He sits on the bed with his back against the headboard, then pulls me into his lap. He slides his hands up and down my sides, admiring the silky slip I’m wearing. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, looking up at me with those ice blue eyes. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

I bite my lip and then lean in to kiss him. His kisses always relax me, so it will calm me down. Colson’s big hands land on my ass and squeeze, and I start to grind against him, but for some reason, I’m not as turned on as I usually am. It probably has something to do with the giant knot of anxiety in my stomach.

Colson notices. Of course he does. He seems to know me better than I know myself. “Hey,” he murmurs, cupping my face in his hands. His brow is furrowed in concern and he’s frowning. “What’s wrong, baby?”

I’m embarrassed at the fact that my eyes are watering. This whole thing is so embarrassing. Why is this so hard for me? It feels like everyone else can get naked so easily. I’m 23 goddamn years old. What is wrong with me?

“Hey, Pres,” Colson coos, pulling me in close for a hug. Strong arms wrap around my waist and hold my close. “Shh, baby, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as my tears soak his neck. I’m shaking like a leaf and I’m so humiliated.

Colson laughs softly. “Oh, baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.” He kisses my shoulder and rocks me a bit. “Pres? Can you look at me?”

I don’t move. It’s too fucking embarrassing.

“Presley,” he says. “Hey, what’s your middle name?”

“Maeve.”

“Presley Maeve Carver,” he says, and my mouth twitches. “Will you just fuckin’ look at me? Please?”

I take a deep breath and finally do as I’m told, pulling back from our embrace. Immediately, Colson’s hands are on my face, wiping away my tears. He smiles sweetly at me and instantly, my anxiety starts to edge back down. I sniffle, feeling so vulnerable, but so very safe. How does Colson do it? Make me feel like nothing and no one can hurt me.

“Pres,” he says. “When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I wasn’t asking because I thought it meant you’d sleep with me.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “I asked you to be my girlfriend because I love everything about you. You’re perfect just as you are. Okay?”

I hesitate, but then nod.

“Baby, there’s never any pressure,” he says. “I love what we do together. I’m not in any rush to have sex with you. I mean, I would love to, don’t get me wrong.”

"I want to,” I say with a sniffle. “It just doesn’t feel right. Not right now.”

Colson looks around. “Kind of impersonal at a hotel, huh?”

I nod timidly.

Colson nods slowly. “We’ll be in LA in a week,” he says. “That’s where my house is. No one else will be around. We’ll have all the time in the world.”

I relax immediately. “That sounds better,” I admit. “Are you sure you’re okay with waiting?”

“Pres, I’d wait forever for you,” he blurts. And then he clears his throat, cheeks reddening. But his words have me biting back a smile.

I love you. The words want to burst out of me so badly, but I hold them in. Not yet. It’s still so soon. Even though the words read extremely true, even more so after tonight.

Colson

I can’t get back to LA soon enough.

It’s not because I can’t wait to have sex with Presley. I mean, of course I’m looking forward to it. I love her and I want to show her. I want to connect with her in that way. But that’s why I’m so happy to be back home. Time alone at my house will give us more time to connect, and maybe even talk about what the future will hold.

I can’t believe I ever wanted to marry Megan. In hindsight, I’m so fucking glad I was just her rebound because if we were still together, I never would’ve found out what real love is. I never would’ve connected with Presley like this. And when I say this girl was made for me, I mean it.

The longer we’re together, the more I notice things about her. She has freckles. Tiny, almost invisible freckles. They came out when we were in The Maldives and she got a tan. She also has a birthmark in her inner thigh the shape of a chicken leg. Not even kidding. It’s hilarious and cute. When she laughs really hard, she snorts, and her nose wrinkles in the cutest way. I know I’m in deep because it’s the little things I love the most.

Our plane landed a couple of hours ago and we just got back to my house. Our suitcases are in my room and Presley stands in the doorway, looking around. I love my room. My bed is huge, I have blackout curtains on every window for prime sleeping, and it’s designed for comfort. I spend more time in here than in any other room in the house.

I come up behind Presley and wrap my arms around her waist. She leans back against me and sighs. “I love your house, Col,” she says. “It’s so nice. It’s so you.”

I grin and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you.” I let go of her and cross the room, tearing off my shirt. “I need a shower,” I announce.

“Me too,” Presley agrees.

I lean on the doorframe of the bathroom and look her up and down. “Come shower with me,” I say.

Presley’s eyes immediately darken with lust and she bites her lip, tucking one leg behind the other. “Okay,” she says, voice small, but I can tell she wants it. I smirk and drop my jeans, stepping out of them, leaving me in only a pair of boxer briefs. Presley’s eyes widen slightly and she peels off her t-shirt and tugs down her leggings. Slowly, I stalk towards her, my eyes on hers the entire time, and when I get to her, I slip my hands into the sides of her panties and push them down. She gulps as she steps out of them. I lift her hands to my shoulders and then expertly unlatch her bra, tugging it down her arms. She grabs my boxer briefs and tugs them down, too, and finally, we’re both naked together.

The sexual tension in this room is absolutely unreal. Ever since our night in the hotel, we haven’t even had a second of alone time. It seems like someone’s always there, and more often than not, it’s Cash. My friend, my enemy. God, the guy makes me mad, but I’m also terrified of what’s going to happen when we tell him the truth. Will he get up and punch me out? Will he leave? I have no idea.

But right now, I can’t bring myself to care, because Presley stands in front of me, gorgeously naked, and soon enough, I will have all of her. I’ll be inside of her, and I’ll show her that I love her. That she never needs to be afraid again. That she can trust me. A shiver rolls down my spine at the mere thought of it.

I take her hand and pull her with me into the bathroom where I start my shower and pull two fluffy towels from my cabinet. I throw them in the towel warmer and turn it on, and Presley lifts a brow. I smirk and shrug. She shakes her head and grins. “Rich people shit,” she says, and I laugh. But my laugh cuts off abruptly when she steps into my space and curls her fingers around my already half hard dick. I swallow hard and look down at her, letting my hands move down her back. I love how confident she’s getting.

Wordlessly, we step into the shower. Immediately, Pres goes for the shampoo and lathers some in her hands. “Turn around,” she says. My brows raise but I do. I tilt my head back with a groan when I feel Presley’s long fingernails against my scalp. My eyes close and my mouth hangs open.

“That feels so good,” I moan, and I make a mental note to ask her to play with my hair more often. Presley takes her time shampooing my hair, then adds some conditioner. I lean towards the water to rinse it and then grab the bottle of shampoo. I gesture for her to turn around and when she does, I stare shamelessly at her ass. I can’t help it.

It’s my turn to massage the suds into her long hair and her turn to sigh and melt into the touch. I watch as goosebumps rise on her skin, even under the hot water, and smile a little. So sensitive and reactive, wherever I touch. Once her hair is rinsed and conditioned, she grabs the bottle of body wash and looks up at me. I gulp.

She pours some of the soap into her hands and massages it in until it lathers, then gestures for me to turn around and starts with my back. She takes her time rubbing the soap into my shoulders and then slowly down my back. Finally, I feel her hands land on my ass and squeeze gently, and I can’t help but smirk. No idea why but Presley loves my ass so much, but she’s obsessed with it. She massages my cheeks and I chuckle silently.

“Turn around,” she says, and when I do, I notice how dark her eyes have gotten. Desire swirls in my gut and I pull her close. She grabs some more soap and slowly starts rubbing it into my chest, her eyes following her hands. Down my stomach, she admires me, looking at me like I’m the most perfect thing she’s ever seen, and out of fucking nowhere, I’m hit with a huge wave of vulnerability. No one has ever looked at me like this. No one. Shit, and now my throat is tight. What the fuck is happening?

“Pres,” I say, voice rough with emotion, and she lifts her eyes to mine. She’s so stunning, her green eyes sparkling as she looks at me, hanging on my every word. I sigh and run a hand over her wet hair, my other hand sliding down her waist.

“Cols?” she questions when I don’t say anything else. Her hands continue to stroke my stomach, my hips. I swallow the lump in my throat and keep looking at her. I can’t say anything. My throat is too tight. She softens a little and smiles gently at me. “I know, baby,” she murmurs. “I know.” She leans in and kisses me, and the kiss is everything. It’s so full of love and care, and I realize all at once that this is it. There’s no one else for me. Presley is my present and my future. I’ll never feel for anyone the things I feel for Presley.

I wrap her up in my arms and hold her so tightly that my arms tremble a little. I’m realizing that for the first time, I might actually make love instead of fuck. The vulnerability is so striking that it scares me, but I can be vulnerable with Presley. I’ve always been able to.

We hurry through the rest of our shower and once we’re dried off, I grab Pres by the hips and back her slowly into the room. She watches me the whole time, trusting me to get her safely to my bed. Once the backs of her knees hit the bed, she sits. Her hands are all over me: my waist, my stomach, my chest. My ass, my dick. At this point, I’m so hard that I’m leaking but it doesn’t matter. Tonight is about Presley and showing her that sex doesn’t need to be scary. It can be safe and loving. Shit, I’m learning as much as she is.

“Get in bed, baby,” I tell her, and she does as she’s told, pulling back the covers to slide between my soft sheets. She sighs in pleasure and scoots over to make room for me. I crawl in beside her and slide my palm over her stomach, feeling the way it tenses slightly. I swear to god, her eyes haven’t left mine since we got here.

Finally, we’re lying side by side in my bed, with no plans for the day, no reason to rush, and no one else around. We have all the time in the world together, just like we did in The Maldives, and I know that relaxes Presley, knowing she doesn’t have to rush. I know she’s scared. Of course she is. Having sex for the first time is a big deal whether or not people like to pretend it isn’t. I need this to be good for Presley, to be special. She deserves it, especially after holding out for so long.

For now, all I want to do is kiss her. I pull her closer so her leg drapes over my waist, and as my hand slides down the curve of her back, I press my mouth to hers. Her little sigh travels right to my cock and I groan softly, teasing her lips with my tongue. She opens her mouth for me and I graze my tongue against hers, teasing her. I love the way she tastes.

Rolling her onto her back, I hover over her, taking control over the kiss. Presley is helpless to do anything but moan and pant as I melt her with kisses. I can feel her squirm beneath me, and I know she wants this. I know she’s wet just from kissing me, and I can’t wait any longer to feel her.

I let my fingers trace down her neck, and then I squeeze her breast gently. I love the way her tits fit in my hands, love the way her back arches when my thumbs brush over her sensitive nipples. Love the whines that fall from her lips when I play with her tits. I groan and roll onto my back, pulling her to straddle me so my hands are free.

She sits up and watches me as I bring both hands up, cupping her breasts before squeezing them gently. She mewls and her head falls back, stomach tensing as I roll my thumbs over her nipples. “Colson,” she whines, hips jerking a little, and I know she’s fucking soaked. She gets wet so easily, so sinfully fucking wet, and I can’t wait to bury myself inside her.

“Feels good, huh baby?” I say lowly, and she nods, brow furrowing with pleasure. “Yeah. That's my girl.” She practically melts into a puddle at my words, biting down on that sweet bottom lip. “Pres,” I rasp. I can’t stop talking to her. I think she likes it when I talk to her in bed. “Tell me. Are you wet for me, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” she moans, and as she does, she grinds against my bare cock. I let out a stuttering gasp as she slides against me, and instantly, my dick is wet. Holy shit. This girl is going to kill me. Cardiac arrest at 29. This is where it ends.

“Do that again,” I plead, voice tight as my hands abandon her tits in favor of gripping that ass. Immediately, she does as she’s told, and the way my dick fits against her is too perfect. Suddenly, the words are there on the tip of my tongue. I love you. But I hold them in. Not yet.

“Fuck, Presley,” I grunt as she continues to grind on me, rolling her hips more quickly. She gasps as her hips stutter, and my eyes flick up to her face. She’s in total ecstasy, jaw slack and eyes squeezed shut. I lift my hips on her next grind and those eyes fly open as she cries out, pressing her hands to my chest.

“Ohh, Colson, fuck,” she moans, voice shaky. “Fuck, baby, I–” She doesn’t finish her sentence, and part of me wonders if she’s holding the words back, too. But that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is the angel falling apart above me right now, rolling her wet pussy against my cock over and over.

“That’s it,” I groan, digging my fingertips into her ass. “Make yourself come, Pres. Grind that clit on me until you explode.”

“O-ohhh,” Presley whines, hips jerking at my words. “Y-yeah…”

“Come on, baby, tell me you’re close,” I plead.

She nods frantically. “Y-yes, so fucking cl-close, Col.” Her voice is so beautifully broken, and I grip her ass harder so she grinds into me with more pressure, and as she does, her body goes rigid. Her spine straightens up as her breath catches in her throat, and then she wails, spasming against me. She gushes around my cock until I can feel her arousal trickle down my balls. It’s the sexiest, most erotic thing I’ve ever felt.

When she’s done, she collapses on my chest and pants. I stroke her hair as she comes down, and I focus on the feel of her heartbeat against my chest. When she catches her breath, she lifts her head to look at me. Her hand finds mine and she squeezes. “Hey,” she says softly, those eyes soft and loving as they look at me.

“Pres,” I sigh, kissing her gently.

“Col, I want you,” she says. “All of you. I’m ready, baby, please.” She sounds almost frantic and all it does is turn me on more, and fuck, I’m definitely coming way too soon tonight. It’s been so long since I’ve been inside someone, and she’s different. I’m in love with her. I’m ten times more attracted to her than I ever have been to anyone else, and I feel like a teenager again, worried about busting the second I get balls deep.

I swallow hard and gently roll her onto her back. Reaching into my nightstand, I come back with a condom. Her eyes light up a little. “Can I put it on you?” she asks.

I whine lowly in the back of my throat and my cock twitches, reminding me of just how little control I have. “Of course,” I tell her. She wets her lips and takes the packet from me, ripping it open. She pulls out the condom and examines it for a second. I push the blankets down, making it easier for her, and she places it over the crown of my dick. I shudder at the feeling and watch as she rolls the latex down. I don’t mind condoms. Better safe than sorry. I just hope it feels good for her.

Once the condom is on, I shift so I’m hovering over her, and then I get between her legs. “Just relax,” I murmur, leaning in to pepper gentle kisses over her collarbones. I stroke her hips gently, wanting her to be as relaxed and pliant as she possibly can be. This is going to hurt. There’s no way around it. 9 inches is a lot for anyone to take, but especially a virgin. For the first time, I feel guilty about my size. The last thing I want to do is hurt Pres, but I know it won’t always hurt.

She looks up at me with worried eyes and I kiss her gently. “Baby, I promise I’ll go so slow,” I assure her. “You’re in control here, okay? Do you trust me?”

“More than anything,” she says, pushing my hair back gently. “Just…be careful, okay?”

I nod, kissing her cheek softly. “Deep breath for me.” I reach down and grip my cock, rubbing the tip up and down over her clit. Her ass tightens and her hips lift slightly and she gasps at the sensation, still sensitive from her recent orgasm, I’m assuming. I guide my dick lower until it dips just slightly into her pussy, enough to gather her arousal and disperse it a little more.

My heart is pounding so fucking hard I feel like I might pass out, and suddenly, I can’t keep it in anymore. I press inside of her, just an inch, and when she hisses, eyes growing worried, I touch her face. “Presley,” I say. “Look at me.” Her eyes find mine and when I see her relax, I know it’s time. I don’t know why, but I laugh softly. “Presley, I love you,” I say finally.

Pres freezes, studying my face as if she doesn’t believe me, but when she realizes I’m telling the truth, her smile is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. “Cols,” she says breathlessly. “God. I love you, too.”

I had no idea how much I needed to hear that. I relax and kiss her hard, and when I do, I slide just a little deeper. She whimpers and I have half a mind to pull out, so scared of hurting her, but then I feel her long nails dig into my asscheeks. “Don’t stop,” she gasps, shuddering beneath me. “S’okay.”

“You’re doing so fucking good,” I say into her mouth, my legs shaking as I try to take my time. “Keep breathing, my love, keep breathing.” She bites down on my lip gently as I sink deeper inside, a whine keening out of her. We pant into each other’s mouths as slowly, I start to fill her, and holy fuck, she’s so tight. She squeezes my cock so tightly that I can barely breathe. Nothing has ever felt so fucking good before.

“Almost there,” I tell her tightly, finding her hand and lacing our fingers together. “Doing so good, baby, I love you so much.”

Presley lets out a helpless little sound and puts her hand to the back of my head. “Colson, I love you,” she whimpers, and when I pull back slightly to look into her eyes, I can see they’re watering. I open my mouth to ask if she needs me to stop, but she shakes her head and shushes me. “This isn’t because it hurts,” she murmurs. It's emotion. Fuck. I’m doing this all right. She feels safe and loved and I did that for her. Finally, I drive myself home with another slow surge of my hips, and Pres gasps.

“Oh shit,” she mutters.

I look at her, a little worried, but she just laughs breathily. “Cols,” she says. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

I can’t help but laugh too, and then we’re kissing. It’s messy and wet and passionate and so goddamn perfect. I could kiss her forever. Finally, she makes a soft sound and lifts her hips, giving my asscheek a squeeze. I retract my hips and carefully roll them forward. Presley breaks the kiss to let out a shaky moan, her brows knitting together. “Shit,” she pants.

“This okay?” I ask, and she nods fast.

“God, yes.” Her voice is so laced with pleasure that I swear to god my balls tighten up. Fuck, I need to try to make this last.

She’s wet as fuck, seriously soaked, which makes it easier to start sliding in and out of her at a slow pace. “Oh my god,” she chokes out, wrapping one leg around me. “God, Cols, feels so f-fuckin’ good–”

“Uhh, fuck,” I stutter out, unable to help myself, because it feels fucking good for me too. Way too good. My dick is wrapped so tightly in her warm, wet walls, and with every roll of my hips, our abdomens press together. I can feel every inch of the woman I love, and much to my surprise, her eyes aren’t the only ones that are wet.

Burying my face in her neck, I try to hold back my emotions, but it’s been so long since I’ve cried and I’m scared it’s all going to come pouring out at once. I focus on the heat of her pussy, the feel of her soft skin against mine. Our hands are clutched tightly together and her nipples graze my chest and my abdomen is clenching as I pick up the pace. But Presley is whining and moaning and making the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard, and she’s enjoying this. I know she is. She doesn’t even have to tell me.

“Presley – fuck!” I gasp, a familiar warmth rising in my stomach after way too short a time. Christ, it hasn’t even been five minutes. “Holy shit, baby, y-you’re gonna make me come,” I manage.

“Mm,” she moans, digging her nails into my back. “Fuck, Col, I love you, baby, I love you so much!”

It’s her profession of love that does it for me. It’s all too much for my emotions and my body and I let go, coming so hard my vision whites out for a second. I’ve never felt so safe and secure and loved in my whole life, and as I rut against Presley, I wonder how anything could be more blissful than this.

Finally, once I’m done, I stroke her hip and very gently pull out of her. She whimpers at the emptiness and I shush her gently, sliding down between her legs. I lift them over my shoulders and she looks down at me, panting. “Shh, baby, gonna make you feel better, I promise.” I close my eyes as my tongue meets her swollen clit, and I apply just the right amount of pressure.

When I close my lips around her clit, I know what’s going to happen. She cries out, legs pressing against my head, and I wrap my hands around those beautiful, trembling thighs. I’m not taking my time here. I’m making her feel better, I’m making her come, and I want to taste every fucking second of it. Letting my tongue drift self-indulgently into her pussy, I groan at the taste there, at the way her arousal is just everywhere. I’ve never been with someone who gets this wet and I go absolutely fucking wild for it.

“Colson!” she cries out, pushing both hands needily into my hair as her body hunches, trembling beneath me. “Ohh, fuck, I’m gonna come–”

I moan against her, pulling her closer as I prepare myself, and my eyes slip closed in pure bliss as she bucks against me, her orgasm causing her pussy to flex against my mouth. I moan, enjoying every second, and god, I don’t want this to end, I want to be back inside her so bad, but that can wait. We have all the time in the world to do this all again.

Finally, I rest my head against her thigh and pant. We both struggle to catch our breath, her hand still weakly in my hair, my face covered in her release, filled condom still wrapped around my cock. I wince at the latter sensation and finally pull back, rolling the latex off of me. I sigh in relief and toss it into the trash, then settle into bed beside her.

She rolls her head over to look at me and she’s so blissed out that it takes my breath away. Her green eyes are glazed, her lips are red, and her mouth hangs open. She smiles softly at me and leans in for a kiss. I pull her close, savoring her kiss, and finally hum as I pull back. “Hey,” I murmur. “You need to pee.”

“How would you know?” she scoffs, and I laugh.

“I mean, I don’t know if you have to pee, but you need to so you don’t get an infection,” I explain.

She lifts a brow. “You’re smart, Colson Baker,” she says, and I grin sheepishly. She smiles too and gives me one more kiss before rolling out of bed and walking on trembling legs to the bathroom. “Don’t listen!” she yells from the bathroom and I laugh, rolling onto my back.

“Can’t help it,” I call back. “It’s quiet in here.”

Presley groans and I snicker, burying myself in the blankets to give her some privacy. Holy shit. Presley just gave me her virginity. We told each other we love each other. I can’t believe everything that has happened in such a short period of time.

I open my eyes when I feel the blankets lift, and I open an arm for my girlfriend, for the woman I love. She settles into my chest and sighs. I smile and kiss her forehead. “I mean it, Pres,” I murmur. “I love you.”

“Yeah,” she says, tracing one of my tattoos. “I mean it, too. I love you, too, Colson.”

I can’t help but smile. I’m not sure I’ll ever get tired of hearing that. “How is this real?” I ask.

Presley laughs softly. “I don’t know. I’m not complaining.”

“You okay, baby?” I ask.

She nods. “Yeah. I really am. It’s you, Col. I trust you so much,” she says, looking up at me. “Thank you for making it perfect. You take such good care of me.”

“I always will,” I tell her, and she softens, leaning in to kiss me.

As we lie here together in my bed, kissing and cuddling and talking, I realize I’ve never been happier. Presley was right. I should’ve given a relationship a chance. And I’m so glad I did, because Presley is absolutely everything to me. I can see our life together unfolding and it doesn’t scare me.

All it does is make me super fucking happy.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly x ofc #mgk #mgk smut #mgk fanfic #mgk x ofc #colson #colson smut #colson fanfic #colson x ofc #colson baker #colson baker smut #colson baker x ofc #colson baker fanfic

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thedreamworldlibrary · 1 month ago

Text

Nothing Bad Happens Chap. 9-Founder Tension

The next chapter is here and it’s one of the most angsty ones I've ever written! When I wrote this chapter, it was long, so I decided to split the chapters up into two parts. This here is part 1, and part 2 will be out alongside this one.

Also check out the comic of one of the scene of this chapter I got from @derpygirl-draws

Big thanks to my beta reader @gigilefache

Enjoy!

It was a steady day at Dreamworld, and Sara was rushing through her paperwork in hopes to clock out early. As she did she glanced at the calendar and smiled seeing today was the anniversary when she, Lewis, and Oliver became best friends for life.

Sara had a plan for the night. She and her friends would go to this local burger shop they frequent, then get ice cream, and end the night with a movie night back at their apartment. Sara was so excited she had to push herself to get stuff done.

A knock was heard. “Come in!” Sara exclaimed.

The door opened and it was Oliver, “h-hey Sara.” He said.

“Oh, hey Oliver!” Sara exclaimed. “What’s up?”

“Um…I was gonna let you know I’m leaving work early.” Oliver replied.

“O-Oh. Why?”

Oliver rubbed the back of his head trying to find an excuse, once he figured out a good excuse he responded. “I have some important business to attend.” He gave a sheepish smile to his best friend hoping she’d believe him. “It shouldn’t be long.”

Sara sighed, “alright,” She replied making Oliver smile. “You’ll be back early, right?”

“I-I’ll try,” Oliver replied. He wasn’t so sure when he’d be done, but he promised Sara he’d try. He closed the door of her office and quickly left Dreamworld. He saw a black car parked right next to Sara’s outside. He smiles and knocks on the car before opening it.

In the driver’s seat was a man who looked a year older than him wearing a trench coat over a pink Hawaiian shirt. He looked like a normal man except his right eye was purple.

“Hey, Damien,” Oliver greeted.

“Hey,” Damien replied.

Oliver looked down at his hands, avoiding eye contact with the detective. He looked up quickly before looking down. “W-what did you find out about the animatronics?”

Damien sighed. “Very little I’m afraid.” He replied. “I do see certain people’s souls, but it’s very blurry. I’d need to see if someone at the facility has a similar soul in order to match it.”

“Got it,” Oliver said with a sigh. He was lucky Damien got somewhere with how the animatronics were talking. He made the call when he realized how much Starlight acts like Lewis or how LoliPop acts like his siblings, and he got curious about it.

“However, I can discuss what I do know,” Damien mentioned.

“Okay, what is it?” Oliver asked.

An hour after Oliver left, Sara finally finished with her work, giving a sigh of relief. She looked at the clock and saw she was done earlier than expected. With a smile, she grabbed her stuff and went over to Lewis’s office to see if he was done with his shift and if they could hang out. However, upon opening the door to his office, Sara saw no Lewis in sight.

“You’re looking for Lewis?” Eric asked, passing by.

Sara turned and nodded. “Y-yeah.”

“Well, he left a little earlier with Wiatt,” Eric answered. “The two of them along with Mike and Alyssa and Pen and Hayden went out to this mini gold place that opened.”

Sara was in shock. Normally, Lewis would’ve told her he’d be going out, but why didn’t he? “Did he say when he’ll be back?”

Eric shook his head before walking to his destination.

Sara was disappointed her plans were ruined. She loved making plans with her friends, but recently it’s like they had plans on their own leaving her all alone. Sara never told her friends about today and wanted to surprise them, but it looked like they forgot.

However, it wouldn’t hurt for her to call and just remind them. Sara took her phone out and called Lewis.

Speaking of Lewis was having fun at the mini golf course with his boyfriend and friends. He felt his phone vibrating and saw it was Sara calling.

“Hey darling,” Lewis said as Wiatt turned to him. “Sara‘s calling?”

“Lewis, just ignore it, besides, she got Oliver to help,” Wiatt said.

Lewis looked at the phone ringing and sighed, “I’ll call her later, besides, it can’t be that important.” He then put his phone back into his pocket as it rang.

“Pen! Hurry up and hit the fucking ball!” Hayden yelled.

Mike chuckled. “Come on Hay. He’s trying.”

Pen swung the golf club to hit the ball, but the ball went over the hill but slid back down.

Back at the facility, Sara frowned that Lewis didn’t call her back. After his voicemail went through Sara sent him a message, “h-hey Lewis. When you get a chance, call me back okay.” She hung up the phone and leaned on the wall for support.

“Don’t get mad over this Sara. Don’t get mad.” Sara said to herself. She then felt the familiar dark aura of Litho, creeping behind her, snapping her out of her thoughts. She stepped back but saw Litho wasn’t near.

Sara breathed heavily before quickly heading back to the apartment. She hoped Lewis and Oliver would be back soon, hoping they’d have time to spend together before the end of the day.

Lewis was brought home by Alyssa at around 12:30 am. After spending time at the mini golf place, they had dinner and hung out at Alyssa’s apartment for a bit before she decided to take everyone home.

Around that same time, Oliver came home too. “Thanks, Damien.” He said. Once Damien drove off Oliver was surprised that Lewis came home as well. “O-Oh hi, Lewis!”

“Hi darling,” Lewis said, “where did you go?”

“O-Oh I was…I was…” his voice trailed off. “Out with a friend. Where did you go?”

“Was on a date with Wiatt, but it was a triple date with Mike and Alyssa and Pen and Hayden,” Lewis explained.

Oliver chuckled, “That sounded like fun.”

“It was!” Lewis exclaimed. “It was last minute, but we’re planning to do more next week.”

Oliver wanted to ask if he and Damien would join them, but he and the detective weren’t official yet. However, it didn’t stop the other founder from trying. “Think I can join next time?” He asked.

“If you can get yourself a date, darling.” Lewis joked. Though Oliver didn’t take it as a joke. The two made it to their apartment and Lewis unlocked the door.

Oliver and Lewis walked inside the apartment quietly, not wanting to wake Sara up. Oliver closed the door slowly and continued to follow Lewis back to their room. However, the light turned on causing the two boys to let out a scream. However, it wasn’t a robber, just Sara sitting on the couch, and from the looks of it she was upset.

“Darling!” Lewis exclaimed. “Please don’t do that!”

“Where were you?” Sara asked, scolding the boys like a parent catching their kid coming home past curfew.

Lewis and Oliver looked at one another, confused. They told Sara earlier where they’ll be the rest of the day.

Sara sighed, getting up from the couch and walking towards her friends, “where were you?” She asked again.

“Didn’t we tell you where we’ll be tonight?” Lewis asked.

“Yeah, but I was hoping you’ll get done early so we can hang out for our friendship anniversary,” Sara replied.

This shocked Lewis and Oliver. They hoped Sara understood that they had important things tonight, and they couldn’t make it to whatever she had planned.

“Oh sorry Sara.” Oliver apologized.

“I mean we did tell you we were busy,” Lewis added.

“Yeah, but you could have left early or canceled, so we could hang out,” Sara replied.

Lewis and Oliver were upset over their best friend’s behavior. She wasn’t understanding about all this at all.

“Darling. I haven’t seen Wiatt since we left to work on Dreamworld.” Lewis spoke up. “We just got back together, and we have a lot to catch up on.”

“And I’ve been seeing someone,” Oliver revealed. “But, it is your fault for planning this ahead.”

“How is it my fault?” Sara asked.

“It’s always your fault! You plan things when we already have plans, and then complain about it!” Oliver yelled.

Sara glared, “Okay I’ll admit it, but this time was different, I wanted to surprise you guys!” She exclaimed.

“Darling you don’t have to surprise us, just tell us,” Lewis replied. “How are we supposed to know today was special for you?”

“Wow,” Sara said. “I-It’s like you don’t care for me anymore!”

“What?!” Lewis exclaimed. “That’s not true! We do care for you! But right now you're overreacting!”

“Overreacting?!” Sara yelled.

“Like right now,” Oliver commented.

“Oh shut up Oliver!” Sara snapped, causing Oliver to flinch.

“Hey!” Lewis yelled. “Don’t yell at him like that, Sara!”

“WHY?!”

“Because he’s sensitive. It’s like you don’t care for his feelings and push him around!”

“So? You and I both agreed that Oliver is too shy to get a date!”

Lewis and Oliver’s eyes widened. The latter looked at his best friend in disbelief, as he remembered what Lewis said to him earlier. “S-So it’s true,” Oliver said.

“O-Oliver. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Lewis said, reassuring his best friend.

“Yeah, you're lucky you have a loving boyfriend.” Oliver spat. “A lucky boyfriend you left.”

Lewis’s mouth dropped. “Pardon me, darling?” He asked. “I only left because we had to work on Dreamworld, we still kept in touch. Not like Sara and her boyfriend.”

Sara’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped. “Hey, Norman and I were never a thing! He had a crush on me and he…left.” She explained.

“Yeah, because you can be bossy sometimes,” Oliver mumbled under his breath.

Sara’s eyes widened as she turned to her friend. “What was that?” She asked.

Oliver’s eyes widened and realized Sara heard what he mumbled. “N-Nothing.” He denied.

Sara marched over to him, and grabbed his arm pulling him closer to her, “did you just call me bossy?” She asked.

“N-No!” Oliver denied. He looked over to Lewis in hopes his best friend would defend him.

“Well…you can be a bit bossy,” Lewis revealed.

Oliver frowned, growling as he removed Sara’s hand roughly from his clothes. “Wow, thanks for the help, Lewis.” He said sarcastically.

“What, you don’t want me to be honest? Okay, if we’re being honest, yes you can be bossy Sara, and Oliver you're too reserved and shy to make the first move!” Lewis admitted.

Sara and Oliver gasped at what Lewis said about them. “Oh, you want to play that, darling?” Sara asked. “Fine, well you can be so stuck up!”

Lewis gasped, “I’m not!” He protested.

At that point, the three argued and insulted each other back and forth. Realizing this the three let out a frustrated yell before splitting off and going to their own rooms, and slamming the door. However, Oliver pushed Lewis out of their room and slammed the door again.

“Fine!” Lewis yelled again as he marched onto the couch and lied down.

Wiatt let out a yawn as he walked to the facility, early in the morning. Today he was scheduled to come in, and after yesterday he wanted to sleep more. Walking closer to the facility, the mechanic saw Eric also waiting for the founders to unlock the door so he could enter. “Morning.” Wiatt yawned.

“Morning Wiatt,” Eric replied. “How was your date?”

“Fun!” Wiatt exclaimed. “It turned out to be a triple date with Mike and Alyssa and Hayden and Pen.”

Eric chuckled, “I’m glad.”

Soon the two turned to see Sara’s car pull up and the founders getting out. However, the three tried to race each other to the door. Lewis made it to the door first and tried to insert his key through they keyhole before being shoved by Oliver.

“Aha!” Oliver laughed, taking off Lewis’s key from the door, but before he could insert his key, Sara shoved him out of the way and put in her key.

“Hey, move it!” Lewis yelled, pushing Sara aside.

“Don’t push me!” Sara yelled back, pushing Lewis into Oliver.

Wiatt and Eric’s mouths dropped in shock as the trio constantly pushed and shoved each other from the door, insulting one another in the process.

“Woah! Woah! Guys!” Eric shouted, stopping the founders from their argument. “What’s going on?”

This proved to be a mistake as the founders talked over each other, yelling and arguing about why they were mad at each other. Eric frowned seeing that they weren’t going to stop, he whistled loudly making the trio and Wiatt flinch.

“Okay, enough!” Eric yelled.

Wiatt gulped, he always heard Eric was a chill teacher and rarely raised his voice. From what Lewis told him, Eric is scary when angry, and that he’s only been angry twice since being in his class.

“Now, one at a time, what’s going on?” Eric asked.

“Sara’s being a brat because she’s upset, we couldn’t celebrate our friendship anniversary together!” Lewis shouted.

“Plus, she makes it a big deal that we can’t spend time together anymore,” Oliver added. “It’s not her fault she can’t make any other friends.”

Everyone gasped hearing what the taller founder just said.

“Oliver!” Eric exclaimed.

“It’s true,” Oliver replied.

“Darling, that was harsh,” Lewis said, glaring at his friend.

Oliver rolled his eyes, “why do you defend her anyway?” He asked, pointing at Sara. “You know she doesn’t like it when you spend more time with Wiatt than with us.”

“You know you’d understand if you had the confidence to tell someone you love them!” Lewis snapped.

Oliver glared, before shoving Lewis away and opened the door to the facility before slamming it. Sara and Lewis glared, and each went inside the facility and slammed it.

Wiatt and Eric flinched and turned to each other before going in, still seeing the founder trio arguing with one another.

“Why are you following me?” Sara snapped.

“My office just so happens to be this way!” Lewis answered, snapping back.

The three growled before walking away, going to their separate offices, and slamming the door.

Wiatt sighed, “Well, today is going to be a long day.” He said.

“Hey, they’ll make up soon,” Eric said, reassuring the mechanic.

“How do you know?”

“I was their teacher. They’ve gotten into arguments and made up afterward.” He explained.

Wiatt looked up at the hallway where his boyfriend and his friend’s offices were. From the looks of this argument, it doesn’t look like it will be ending anytime soon.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll make up before today’s meeting.” Eric reassured the mechanic.

By the time the meeting started, the founders didn’t bat an eye or utter a word at each other. The three sat in their chairs turned away from one another. Everyone heard about the trio arguing, and the tension between the three was so thick, that a knife couldn’t even cut it.

“Is anyone going to start the meeting?” Lisa asked, breaking the silence.

Lewis glanced at Sara before turning away, while the latter did the same. Oliver on the other hand looked at Sara and smirked, “let Sara start the meeting.” He said in a mocking tone. Sara turned to the taller founder, “After all she knows a thing or two of bossing people around.”

Sara gasped, feeling offended. Most of the employees felt that was harsh, even Wiatt thought so as well despite not liking Sara. Though Hayden gave a small smile interested in the drama going on between his bosses.

Seeing that’s how Oliver wanted to play it, Sara glared at her friend and turned to him, “well,” she spoke up, causing Oliver to face the female founder. “Why don’t you start, Oliver?” She then let out a gasp, “Oh wait, you're too much of a baby to speak up!”

The employees started to feel uncomfortable with the founders arguing. “Yikes,” Pen whispered.

“This is getting bad,” Andrew whispered to Hayden.

“This is getting good,” Hayden whispered back

Now it was Lewis’s turn to speak up, “Honestly Sara, you can be such a bitch sometimes.”

The employee's mouth dropped hearing the founder's curse. Out of the trio, no one, not even Wiatt, expected Lewis Bright to curse.

“Excuse me!” Sara yelled, getting up in Lewis’s face.

“You heard me!” Lewis yelled back.

“Alright!” Eric shouted, slamming his hands on the table. Everyone flinched as they turned to the former teacher. “Enough you three! This has been going on for long enough! Now you can make up like the good friends you are or in your offices till you three can talk it out!”

The employees gulped, showing Eric was serious about this. To some, this was the first time seeing the engineer angry.

The founders glared at one another before leaving the meeting room. However, all three tried to exit only for them to shove and push each other to get to the door.

“Move out of the way!” Lewis shouted.

“No you move!” Oliver shouted.

“You move!” Sara yelled.

Eric rolled his eyes and went to the door and opened it. “There! Now you three go into your offices!” He scolded.

The founders glared and left the meeting room. Sara was the last one to leave and slammed the door making everyone flinch. Eric sighed and sat back down before slamming his head on the table and letting out a groan.

Ribbondancer looked down and rubbed the older man’s back.

“So…does that conclude the meeting?” Andrew asked.

“I believe so,” Mike said.

Everyone slowly got up and went to start their day of work. Luckily, today was a busy day, distracting the workers from what they witnessed earlier in the meeting. However, there were times when two or all three of the founders were in the same room, be it a cold glare or an insult.

Even the animatronics couldn’t do anything to stop them from arguing. Starlight tried to talk to Lewis about talking to Sara and Oliver.

“Darling, you should talk to-“

“No, Star. I’m not.” Lewis cut the animatronic off, not looking up from his computer.

Starlight frowned and decided to leave the founder alone for a bit. As he was making his way back to the Staract, he heard someone whisper out to him.

“Star! Starlight!” Ribbondancer whispered.

Starlight turned as Ribbondancer ushered him to follow him. The star animation nodded and followed his friend.

Wiatt had just returned from fixing some go-karts over at Racetrack, and there he saw Eric, Carly, Starlight, Ribbondancer, Pen, Lisa, and Franny huddled together. “Hey, what’s going on?” He asked, causing the group to look up.

“Oh Wiatt, we’re just discussing about-” Eric was about to say before being cut off.

“Lewis and the others?” Wiatt guessed.

“Y-Yeah. They still haven’t made up.” Eric explained. “I tried talking to them, but they wanted me to pick sides!”

“Starlight and I tried talking to them or doing fun activities to build their friendship, but none of them wanted to do it,” Ribbondancer explained.

Wiatt sighed, “Their pride is getting in the way of their friendship.”

“Pride, jealousy, and forgetfulness,” Ribbondancer added.

“Jealousy?” Eric and Wiatt asked at the same time.

“Forgetfulness?” Starlight and Carly asked at the same time as well.

Ribbondancer nodded, “Yep, Wiatt you're dating a founder, and Sara and Oliver are lonely and single.” He explained.

Wiatt and Eric looked at each other knowing that’s what could’ve sparked the argument.

“Wasn’t Sara dating Norman, the guy from Watchful Eye Toys?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah, but I heard something happened to Norman a month after the facility opened,” Franny replied.

“Also,” Pen stepped in. “I have heard Oliver has been talking to someone named Damien.”

“Oh, Damien, I know him!” Ribbondancer exclaimed. “He picked up Oliver yesterday and from what I’ve heard, Oliver talks to himself trying to ask him out.”

Eric sighed, “Ribbon, what did I say about eavesdropping on workers?” He asked.

Ribbondancer sighed, “It’s wrong and not nice, but it brings up fun conversations!”

“Ribbons!” Eric scolded.

“Sorry.”

“Ribbondancer, what do you mean forgetfulness?” Carly asked.

“Oh!” Ribbondancer exclaimed letting out a chuckle. “Well Sara said something about an anniversary and was hoping Lewis and Oliver could make it. However, Dreamworld has only been open for a couple of months. Why are they doing an anniversary now?”

Wiatt thought for a bit and his eyes widened knowing what the anniversary was. “It’s not Dreamworld’s anniversary, it’s the anniversary the founders became friends.” He exclaimed.

Eric then came to the realization too, “oh yeah. The day was the day they met Oliver and what kicked off their friendship.”

Starlight raised his eyebrow, “that’s why the fight started? Because Lewis and Oliver forgot?” He asked.

“Starlight, anniversaries are important!” Lisa exclaimed.

“Or in Sara’s case, very important,” Wiatt added.

Eric sighed, “I’m going to talk to Sara again.” He said.

“Or,” Carly spoke up, “follow a plan RD and I came up with.”

“What’s the plan?” Franny asked.

Carly and Ribbondancer huddled the group together as they explained the plan. Eric wasn’t sure about it, but if it would stop the trio from fighting he’ll go along with it.

#wtdw #welcome to dreamworld #wtdw au #wtdw sara #wtdw lewis #wtdw oliver #wtdw wiatt #wtdw eric #nothing bad happens au #NBH AU #wtdw carly #wtdw damien #wtdw ribbon dancer

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larcenywrites · 2 years ago

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HCS with young tony absolutely nervous with the first date with his soon-to-be girlfriend and asking his parents for some advice, they're all proud of their son being in love, and then tony introduce them to the reader? We need more family tony content

If you still take requests for hcs, of course :)

AAAAAH super cute 😍 Young Tong especially deserves more family stuff 🥲 and cute dates :) so I kinda got carried away

Warnings: mostly she/her pronouns/terms used for reader | cute!

Nervous First Dates

💠Tony isn’t a nervous person.

💠Okay, he is a nervous person, but no one’s supposed to know that, least of all you

💠You’ve more than likely already had plenty of encounters and hangouts, and while it’s not exactly abnormal for him to get with (or hookup with) whoever’s been able to entertain him for longer than a day or two, this is probably the first time he’s ever been so nervous

💠He’s usually so confident! He knows what he wants and when he wants it! And all he ever has to do is outright say it with that cocky grin and a tone just provocative enough to keep them on their toes, and he can get whatever he’s after

💠But somehow this is different. Maybe he let it go on for a little too long before deciding to actually do anything. He let you bite back too many times, and let you make up for it with a playful smile that shyly turned away. He let you tag along without even asking, and spilled far too many secrets. He got used to you being there- and he didn’t even have to peacock around to do it!

💠He also finds himself wishing you were around more often. He's never felt so lonely in bed at night! Or, for once, wishing he had someone to talk to while he's up late at night tinkering with something. Sometimes he does something that he knows you would have laughed at- god, he's down real bad, huh?

💠Yeah, yeah, he knows. He has a crush or whatever 😒 He doesn't need to be told. He could feel the unfamiliar heat in his cheeks when he mentioned your next outing should be somewhere nice, like uh, ahem, like a date. He still kept up that usual confident demeanor, but you knew him well enough by now to see through it (not to mention the very obvious blush on his face)

💠His mom already knew what was up tbh. Every time he came home, he had something to say about what he did today, but it wasn’t as much about the very mundane thing he did as it was about the fact that he did it with you ;)

💠So when he comes home, earlier than normal one night, and is stuttering to answer his mom's usual question, she's more than a little worried

💠"Uh- I asked her out and," he starts, getting pitiful. "I don't know what to do."

💠"Don't you... always go on dates?" His mom knows he's, ya know, rather promiscuous, but that's beside the point! Tony knows what he's doing, surely??

💠"Yeah, but- this one's different!" He’s kinda cornered himself here because he's done lots of mostly fancy dates and "dates" that were really just, uh... in bed, so nothing really feels good enough for you. Sure, you probably won't care or even know the difference, but he knows, and he wants it to be special >:(

💠"Since when do you have trouble talking to girls?" His father's sarcasm chimes in from the hall.

"Oh, don’t listen to him," his mom brushes it off for him, trying to wipe that frown from his face. "He pretends like he wasn't nervous on our first date, too." Tony doesn't really want to hear about that, but he smiles anyway.

"Honestly, Tony, it sounds like she'll enjoy anything."

"What, 'just be myself'?"

"Haven't you already been doing that?"

💠He stares at her as if she just told him some world-changing secret. He has just been himself! And the setting didn't seem to matter-- you flirted back all the same! But while that does make him feel better, it still doesn't help his current predicament. "Okay, but where do I take us?"

💠His mom sighs, but is willing to try and help him out 😌 But idea by idea, no is starting to sound like a word that doesn't even exist. His mom sighs again, a little less willing to help him out. She's glad and all that he's finally trying to put effort into love, but he still has to actually do something. “What’s her favorite colors?” She asks suddenly. Now Tony’s even more confused. Favorite color- What? Why? Uh,,, He’s pretty sure he could guess from the clothes you wear and the color of the pen you always choose over the others when you sneakily draw smiley faces on the corner of his papers during lecture.

💠"What if you made a little bouquet with some of the flowers in the garden," she suggests. While it's a great start, and would be pretty romantic of him,,, well, it would kinda set the scene for something pretty romantic, too, huh 🤔

💠Well, he has a few days to decide, and he still has to act Cool and Normal around you! You likely share a class or campus, live nearby, or maybe even frequent the same areas, soooo he can't just hide away and prepare. Your smile is a little different, and you seem to lean in a little more when he makes you laugh. Normally he's the one that has them all flustered, but this time he's the one that's hot and bothered! If he's already like this, how is he supposed to survive an actual date??

💠Well, now it's the morning of, so he better learn quick. And he also better learn quick how to arrange flowers 🤧

💠But he did a pretty decent job, if he does say so himself! Little ribbons and all :)

💠He's probably bugging the hell out of his mom. What should I wear? Does this look okay? Help me roll up this sleeve :( Wait- I think I want them down, actually...

💠He's never overthought every little thing like this. Is he just being silly? Probably, but cut him some slack. He's never really felt like this!

💠He's praying no one else opens the door but you. He's not ready to meet any family or anything! He's already stressed as hell!

💠He's relieved when it is you that opens it, and can't really think of anything to say other than "hi". Come on, he's cooler than this!

💠But you can probably only giggle and say hi back, and immediately notice the flowers in his hand. Which he looks at for a second as if he forgot 😅

💠"I, um- I made this. With some of the flowers in our garden." Wow, he sounds so fucking nerdy rn. "So it's probably not the prettiest," he jokes half-heartedly to try and save himself (when he doesn't need any saving). Tony just doesn't realize how cute he really is tbh. You're already close enough and both obviously into one another, so don't be shy to give him a kiss on the cheek to show your gratitude ;) If you do, it'll definitely shut him up and keep a smile on his face the rest of the night, but it won't exactly quell any of that nervousness 😥

💠Don't worry! The car ride will feel a little more comfy and be like normal!

💠He probably did decide on a more upscale restaurant, but one with a nice patio because it's a little more quiet on the outside, and he thought the string lights were more cute than fancy. And the flower in the little vase is (hopefully) your favorite color! But he's probably a little stiff again :( Is it okay? Are there enough options? He's just going to overthink everything he's doing again

💠So it's going to feel a bit awkward when he doesn't really know what else to do after! Or maybe he did have something planned, but honestly just derail it! Go get ice cream or whatever you would prefer at the place you've both been to before that's nearby! And it's still a nice evening with the sun out, so you could sit at one of the umbrellaed tables in the park you've probably done homework at or something. Anything that will convince this man to chill out! Because it doesn't have to be something stiff and fancy to be perfect or romantic :) Honestly he only really knows how to showboat around, and that's usually why people enjoy his company, so he just needs to learn. Tbh you can probably blame that behavior on his parents, but that's all he's every really seen, after all! That and movies, but he's probably afraid those arcades or drive-in movie dates make him look silly or juvenile, but he'll learn to lean into them later 😉

💠Even if you know where it is, bring up the big fountain in the corner of the park but that you "can never remember exactly where it's at." He knows where the big fountain is! Let him save the day, so to speak 😌

💠Of course he won't act as excited as it made him. He'll be very cool about it. "Oh, I think I know where it is," he says casually. "I might even have some pennies to throw in." While you're busy listening to those words and starting to fall in step (honestly more busy with the eyes looking down at you), he so carefully sneaks his hand into yours and laces his fingers with yours and leads you along. He does it so naturally, no hesitation. You barely have time to register it! Yeah, okay, so maybe it makes it obvious he's done this before, but don't let that discourage you! No one else got a homemade (and homegrown) bouquet, first of all 😘

💠The rest of your time is spent... almost like usual? It's relaxed and quiet, with the usual flirty banter snuck in and jokes while you people-watch. Except this time he sits a little closer, and you're absentmindedly (or boldly) playing your fingers over his... which is cute and all, but he can only focus on so many things at once and it's more than a little distracting! But then when he finds distraction in the coldness of his ice cream, then you're distracted by that tongue-- NO ONE WINS

💠Once the sun is low and you've finished up, Tony reluctantly brings it up that he should take you home, but not before he hands you a penny with a playful grin, and you each flick one into the water (and Tony might manage to miss the first time 😅)

💠But once you're home, he'll be pretty hesitant to let go of you're hand once you reach the front door 💔 But honestly you probably are too. Let him know you had fun tonight and that usual smug grin will spread across his face as if he wasn't a wreck for the last hour or so, but you have to admit that there's always something so charming about it 💘 Kiss him on the cheek and, while that smile won't fade, the uncharacteristic pink tint coming to his cheeks will give him away 🤭 But don't tease him about it! Maybe you can later, though...

💠Sigh. It may be hard to read that face, but his dark eyes almost always tell all and always want more 🥺 If you're up to it, lean in a little closer and not-so-subtly glance down to his lips. He still might hesitate when he starts to lean in, but he'll get there 😌 It's not that e doesn't want to, or thinks you don't want to, but he's worried and overthinking about rushing things because he doesn't really know how that works either, and he's pretty used to skipping right to the point after dates but he doesn't really wanna do that this time 😩

💠But he stops overthinking when you kiss him back with a hand on his cheek and one still in his hand, and it's probably the most innocent and giddy he's felt in this position 🥺 You'll probably have to be the one that pulls away first ngl, but there's still something he wants (and no, it's not what you're thinking... though he wouldn't necessarily argue...)

💠"Uh," he starts, looking away a bit awkwardly and clears his throat. "Would you want to be my girlfriend?" There's a bracing upturn to his tone. How could you say no to that face? Of course you say yes, with a few, probably painful, bashful smiles and looks exchanged. And honestly it's a huge weight off his chest because he realizes he's been thinking about it for like, weeks before he actually decided he wanted to ask you out. He was worried about rushing things or whatever, but- this is different!

💠He's probably expecting another kiss, and maybe you are too, but keep him on his toes! Give him a mission for next time! Give him an almost sultry "goodnight, Tony" and play with the tips of his fingers before you let go. Leave him as a melted puddle at your door 😇😘

💠He has to walk by the kitchen to get to his room, but his mom's been keeping a lookout and catches him before he can speed away. He's usually not so flustered and jumpy, so she's probably a bit worried. And her many questions don't help! "Did she like the flowers?" "Did it go okay?" "Home already?" "Did you ask her?"

💠He can really only answer yes to all of them, and very stiffly as if he's done something wrong! And let's be honest, it's kind of hard to talk about these sorts of things to nosy parents 😅 even though he regularly tells her, like, everything

💠You're likely going to be invited over for dinner pretty soon, which might feel a little intimidating considering who his dad is? But then again, you're dating his son, who isn't exactly some guy from down the street, either, so

💠But they're pretty nice! Well, his dad might be a little distant, and honestly thought this was all a bit silly since... well, you know. Maria, on the other hand, is going to talk your ear off! Don't worry if you're more on the quiet side. She can just fill in with some embarrassing story or another instead! And even if you are quiet around new people and places, she can most likely get you comfortable enough (or at least make you laugh a lot)! Honestly, Tony might even be a little jealous... and you guys are laughing at him 😖 Even Howard probably feels a little bad 😅

💠Maria might also make a joke about how she thought you two were already dating, with the way Tony talked about you all the time ;)

💠Tony won't leave you alone with anyone just yet (besides, what other secrets will mom spill in his absence 😩). He'll stick around and probably help her with the dishes anyway while you may or may not already have the family photo album 🤭

💠This time you're the one that has to bring up that it's time for you to go, with plenty of social graces from Maria about how good it was to meet you and have you over and to come again. And she's not at all keeping an eye on the front door while you two share goodbyes, and that kiss you withheld from him last time 😏 and another one, just because he felt bad at dinner 😌

💠Eyes are already on him when he comes back through the front door, as well as a very sly grin on her face.

💠"Why are you looking at me like that?"

💠"I'm not looking at you like anything."

💠Tony's already stalking his way back to his room, but he knows his mom has something on her mind.

💠"I think she's very nice," she says fondly before going back to whatever she was doing. "And I think you're both pretty cute together, too," she slyly tags on. Tony wrinkles his nose and looks away, but he can't not smile at both approval and praise

💠It may take a few more dinners, but once Maria has you alone, she'll definitely have you just as embarrassed yet proud when she starts talking about how glad she is for her son to have found someone 💛

💠Aaaand maybe after a few more dinners, even father dearest starts to warm up to you a little more!

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark headcanon #tony stark drabble #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fic #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man drabble #iron man imagine #iron man fanfiction #iron man headcanons #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel headcanons #marvel fic #young tony stark #young tony stark x reader

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alienorstyx · 1 year ago

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A night in Paris

precedent chapter: 8

Chapter 9: Discussion

In a hotel bedroom in New York , Greece had to escort France here , a discussion between the two women to what to do was necessary.

"France , you are pregnant from USSR ,didn't you ?" Asked Greece after going through all the bedroom in the search of a microphone and a camera , she didn't find any. France was shocked that her twin had figured it out the father of her baby in her womb . She didn't answer right away , still too much shocked.

"France, I know that both of you had sex in the meeting room, I was there with the UN, who had almost entered in, the poor little bun. He is too much innocent." Pursue Greece while sitting on the bed, she put the seat next to her, for France to sit there, she didn't want her to stay standing.

" So , are you now concerned with who I had sex ." Told France with a small smile while sitting on the designated spot.

"I was always interested , it's so much fun to know all the adventures you had , and like daddy told us before leaving for the shadows " you only had now each other , so stop all the quarrels and support each other... "Imitate Greece as she was taking the accent of the Roman Empire.

" I remembered and I wonder if one day we could tell to all of them and not only when they are near their end. "Whispered France as she was looking at her hands .

"We couldn't , not now . None of them are ready , they are for the most children , we had to let them a part of a dream before the sad truth." Spoke Greece as she looked up to the wall , but her black eyes , seems like lost in a thought. France nods. They stayed side by side , during an hour or two , we could only hear their hearts beating in the small hotel room.

It was France who broke the silence.

" I think that I will keep this baby."

" Eh, are you sure. It risks provoking a huge political conflict. America will never forgive you."

" I don't care about what he thinks, I am not afraid of him. Besides, it's still my choice to keep the baby or not, it isn't him who is pregnant, for what I know." Grumble France, which made Greece laugh.

"Don't worry, even if the little America or this bear of USSR tried to put this child in their stupid cold war, I will help you fight them."

" It's not what you said two minutes ago."

"Oh, I was teasing you."

" You infuriate me sometimes, you know that."

The two women squabble until someone knocked at the door room. Greece get up from the bed to see who it was, opening the door, she was surprised by:

"UN! What are you doing here?The meeting is already finished, isn't it?"

"Er, er, after explaining the situation like you asked me, I... er... I end the meeting earlier than what was scheduled. Anyhow, nearly no one wants to participate in today subject, and everybody was chatting about other stuff, some were about you, France. Some States were worried, whereas others were glad. I think some will come to see you for checking how you are feeling."

France stayed quiet , immersing herself in her thoughts, she had told herself before by talking with Greece that it would be better to not tell it to the others countries , in any case she will not always be able to hide it , but it was not right now the good moments to tell everyone , she didn't want to put this little baby in danger .

"Wouldn't be the best , to warn them, at least the security council about your pregnancy ."Asked timidly UN , looking down, he was shaking like a leaf due to the inquisitive look of Greece.

"Those idiots are capable of involving a child in their stupid cold war. However, in the same time if they are not aware and decides to make a third world war, it would make equally risk for this future child, and who knows that knowing a new country will be born, it would maybe allow them to stop trying to kill each other, it's a rare event after all. And if that let France to rest for a bit and avoid external conflict. Maybe we can risk that."

Greece turns to France, wanting to know what she was thinking because after all they were talking about her child and how to explain it to the other members of the security council, if she wanted to tell them.

"I think that I'm going to tell them, but I would specify that I don't want for this child to be in part of this stupid cold war. After all, the birth of a new country is rare." Whispered France, as she was putting her hands on her belly, caressing it tenderly, she could feel the soul of this new country, who had to bear in a world still in war.

"Now , go to warn all the members of the council , considering that you have their phone numbers , UN." Said Greece as she was pushing UN , softly towards the door .

"Yes , madam."

#countryhumansfrance #countryhumans #A Night in Paris #countryhumansfanfic #countryhumans greece #countryhumansUN

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lilymelodies · 4 months ago

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혜윤 언니 드디어 만났던 날 :)

aug 24, 2024

i flew to taipei from tokyo and planned a very, very quick trip because i have to be back for work as soon as possible. it's been more than a week since i knew i'll be going to the fanmeet, but because of my schedule i couldn't really wrap my head around the fact that finally, after five long years of being her fan, i'm finally about to see her.

i arrived a day before the show and coincidentally, landed in taipei around the same time as her! i couldn't wait for her arrival though because i was tired from the flight and had so much stuff with me. then it hit me. i am now under the same sky as her, breathing the same air. that alone had me choked up as i waited for the train.

was it in my senior year in college? i was a kid who attended school with one purpose. to graduate on time and land a job so i could help the family as the eldest. i didn't really have time to be a full-time fangirl like i wanted because there are just so many things on my plate, but here comes a silly romcom-fantasy show of a girl who thought she was the main character of a comic. right, extraordinary you. it was from then on. i liked how she's so passionate about acting, how she treats people around her, and just her overall personality and how she view things in life. seeing that unconsciously made me want to root for her and to see her get to places knowing how hard she works on her craft. i just had this thought one day that "ah, i wanna be there when she makes it even bigger." and now she's holding fan meetings overseas. she has become so loved, that she's now slowly meeting more fans. and today, i'm one of those fans. finally.

i flew here alone, so i didn't really expect to have lots of tourist moments considering this was also a very short trip. on the day of the fan meeting, i planned to go on a quick trip to the zoo but it was so hot and the boots i was wearing isn't really zoo-friendly, lol. i decided to just visit the venue earlier so i know where to find it later on. it was quite a walk from the station, and how i wish my outfit allowed me to rent one of the bikes parked nearby, haha. anyway, google maps confused me for a bit but i ended up finding the sports center after a while! i couldn't really ask around because most of them said they don't speak english. now my problem is how to get to the actual venue. the entire sports center is big and there were students too, so i was worried i might not be entertained if i ask someone to show me around. until i saw this car parked right beside the entrance, who seem to be from the university and could know where it is! they were unloading some flowers from the car and i wasn't really in the right head space to even wonder what those were for but yes, those were hyeyoon's stage props (screaming!!) that i only realized when i saw the stage setup few moments later. when i asked one of the guys who were by the car if they could speak english, they answered in korean so i was like, oh! much better then! and went to ask how to get to the venue. but maybe because it was pretty hectic for them as well, i don't think they understood me and just escorted me to the information desk. i'm starting to worry now, because what if i can't find it until later? there aren't signs that a fan meet is about to happen here either. no photos, no notices that the place is reserved for a show or something. just an ordinary-looking gym. i even saw a few athletes passing by. a lady, maybe in her 60s, overheard my conversation with the information desk and volunteered to show me the way. i was so thankful and relieved. after a while, i saw a big pink screen from outside the window and it had "hyeppiness" written on it so i was like, okay this is the place! i was about to turn to the lady to say thank you when she opened the door and pushed me inside lightly saying, "go, go!" i think i was a little too taken aback that i replied in korean saying no it's okay but it was too late. i was already a few steps inside the hall. the entrance was right behind the tech booth so thankfully i didn't bother them but when i turned to look at the pink screen again, i saw her, kim hyeyoon herself, standing onstage wearing an oversized white t-shirt and black shorts............i think she was rehearsing stage blocking. i honestly don't recall this moment that much because the next thing i knew, i wanted to run outside as soon as i can. i half walked, half ran towards the nearest bench and that's when i cried. reality hit me. i just saw the kim hyeyoon. well, for 3 seconds.

i think i cried more when i called my friends though. i was barely holding it in as i walked but when i heard their familiar voices that's when i broke down. ha... what more when i get to see her closer later?

i spent the remaining time till the fanmeet in a daze, there were lots of fan supports and most fans were wearing pink! it was such a shame that i'm really very shy in person that i didn't get to interact with hyeppyendings that much :(

anyway! fanmeet time, the place is pretty big! the stage is quite elevated too so we can see everything clearly.

then here she comes. i really am not trying to exaggerate or anything but she really does look like an angel T__T it's like the background is instantly in a blur and all you can see is her. she has this kind of energy where you can't seem to take your eyes off her, like you're just, simply drawn to her as if it's the most natural thing. she loves doing eye contact too! which i find really sweet actually.. at times when the host's ments are taking a while and the translator still has to translate it, she takes the chance to look fans in the eye and do cute gestures! she even mouths words like 'have you eaten' :(

the scent of yoon segment was fun although i already know most of her answers from previous fan meets, heh. maybe it was the way she was doing her best to share the scent of the perfume to us, or because of her adorable reactions, or just.. she felt so much like a friend.

seeing her at first will make you starstruck of course, but it's her personality that warms you up and eventually end up find comfort with the familiar feeling of someone's existence. like it isn't the first time at all. her overall aura was just so heartwarming. to the point that i'm sure i'll keep that feeling in me for a long, long time.

i'm really not the type to take lots of fancams, but seeing her made me want to document it somehow. however, i don't think cameras are doing her beauty justice. so i just took short clips to remind myself of certain moments but most of the time, i was absorbing everything with my eyes. she's waaaay prettier in them after all.

and... the moment i did not expect at all. when the fan project cue was up, the entire crowd read the slogan saying 'i hope our little love becomes the biggest happiness for actress hyeyoon' which made her cry. this is the first time she cried in her fanmeets this year, and i was there, among the crowd, crying with her. i didn't know why, but i just feel for her. all the feelings of overflowing pride, happiness and comfort she brings all combined into tears. we were approaching the end of the fanmeet and of course, the reality of having to go our separate ways anytime soon is kinda adding up to that as well, haha.

hi-bye session! i think she was just 2-3 meters away during hi-bye. so close, i can almost see her lashes... wah. she's so pretty. i can no longer count how many times i've said that during the entire show and now she's even closer and i have the chance to tell her other things than just that. so i told her, '언니 기특해요!' the loudest i could. she said thank you, with her eyes looking touched and with hands forming a heart. it was barely 5 seconds but it felt soooo satisfying to be able to tell her that face to face. i know that alone isn't enough, but i think it was the best i could tell her given the circumstances. i poured my heart in the letter i gave her after all. after the whole thing, i just waited for a new friend i made that day and we cried together on one of the benches in front of the venue. just like what i did earlier that day.

my tears were partly because something i looked forward to for the longest time was finally over, and mostly because it was overwhelming. i had to go to the airport in two hours so i didn't have enough time to process the day that just went by but all i know is that i was really, really, genuinely happy.

hyeyoon, being one of the many people who love and support you is such an honor. it was such an honor to see you grow from your very first lead role to the actress that you are now. you're such a big source of joy and strength to my very busy life, and keeping up with the things that you do, be it translating, forming silly theories about your projects, or just talking with other fans felt like a breath of fresh air. you are someone i know i'll be rooting for for as long as i'm able to, so i hope you comfortably do whatever makes you happy. you're someone who touches people's lives in the best way possible and i could only wish we could be of the same kind of comfort to you. you are so very dear to me, and i can't wait to get more chances to meet you. till then!

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cursingcrona · 1 year ago

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ah! that makes me so happy to hear <3 i struggle with a lot of like, mental things & stuff that make it hard to decide if someones calling out or not, so thank you for being so nice and concise about your answer!

honestly, the way i reached out to apollon was by the same thing. him whispering his name into my head and i just went with it. it's weird, i genuinely used to be so quick to research and whatnot whenever i felt pulled to a deity but, growing a little more into my practice, i realized i take it so much slower? i can't decide if that's a bad thing, lol

but, do you have any advice on how i should approach deities? i'm still sort of new to this type of thing, like, a month or somewhat into it. and struggle with yk, being unsafe to practice how i want. it hurts my head to think about how i might be praying the wrong way or something. the infernal deity in question is asmodeus, and i've had a hard time researching him in a way but from what some people on witchtok have said about him, it makes me so nervous as to accepting his calls. i also have abandonment issues. so. it makes me a little more inclined to sort of "watch the phone ring until it goes away", yk? but i really like him. i wanna talk to him and get closer to him, since he's been persisting me for a long-ish time now.

people have said he'll demand huge offerings, huge rituals, ect. that terrifies me, because, im in the closet about what i do, lol. so i cant have candles, sages, buy offerings, build him a fancy altar, ect. (i mean hell i literally JUST put up a *shelf* altar for apollon earlier today. that's the most i can do, and it scares me to think of disappointing them. especially since people say "make it worth their time", ect.)

but, sorry for this ask!! it's kind of cringe, i know. but, thank you anyway <3

Hi Nonnie!! Lets give you a proper nickname, aye? Hrrmmm..... /silly

Your my first ask, soooo... I wanna make it special..

Ill give you some options:

📎Nonnie

🪽Nonnie

🦇Nonnie

Now, lets unload this, shall we??

If you've seen any of my other posts, you'll know I believe deities understand. And I thoroughly do! To my core.

Deities know when things interfere with the mortal and mundane worshipers. They get it, they would be kind of off without the ability to just know.

On the same foot, some deities enjoy (enjoy, not require) large offerings, and devotional acts, and rituals, but it's not a requirement. Especially when in the broom closet!

You won't be disappointing anyone, or anything, for that matter. You are worth anyone and everyone's time.

I actually love the little shelf altar for Apollo! Right now, Apollo shares an Altar space with Dionysus, and soon to add Hermes (and others but they'll all have different spaces).

Im sure if thats all you can do, King Asmodeous wont mind. Deities are very understanding entities, especially with all the drama that (usually) happens in mythos.

Lets say He is a deity that prefers large rituals, offerings, and devotional acts, your the one that dictates what "big" or "little" means in that situation. It's your practice so words like "big" and "little" are relative to you and your abilities.

When I approach Deities, i take it slow or fast, all depending on the nature of the deity. The same goes for entities. Since King Asmodeous is, well, a King, i recommend taking it slow and respectfully! If you cant have candles and such, i recommend getting a little (easily hide-able) bowl ! This can serve either as an Altar or an offering dish! You can add just about anything to it, and that will serve as you reaching out to a deity. You can also pray over these offerings as a more direct reach out.

Then onto my next point: Take things as slow/fast as you deem comfortable.

Not "necessary", not "acceptable", comfortable.

I really love hammering home "This is Your practice" because it is! No one else can dictate what's "too slow" or "too fast" thats yours to decide!

Research is a wonderful thing to do even if it slows down how fast you start working with an entity/Deity. Sense your the one risking being wrong, and doing all these devotional things in the end, the choice is up to you how much research you put forward in the beginning!

One last point before i go:

Anything can be devotional, anything. I mean it! Time doing research about my deities is how i continue to feel close to them, your dedicating time to them. That in and of itself builds a bond like no other!

That's all I have to say at the moment, stay safe Nonnie, Blessed Be.

#hellenic polytheism #polytheism #witchcraft #pagan #hellenic polytheist #helpol #asks #answered

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years ago

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look down on me like that - 8 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut (w some eventual angst that is no longer eventual 👀)

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: *deep breath in* 15.3k

contains: explicit sexual content and discussion of some dark themes .....yyyyyep 🤐 includes past-tense discussions of the d3ath of a parent (reader's) and su1c1dal ideation (yoongi's) so please tread carefully loves 💜 some references to alcohol per usual, and plenty of confusing feelings and piss-poor communication..... i'll leave the rest as a surprise 👀 but here are your smut-specific warnings: kissing (‼️), nipple play, clit stim, a single pussy slap lol, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting (🤭), unprotected sex and pulling out (💀), orgasm denial of sorts, but it's cool bc reader has multiple orgasms, ok byeeeee~

A/N: welp..... i'm off to enter witness protection in case you all decide you hate this chapter 💀 not really but heuhjkghkfjgdsf dear god am i nervous to post this lmfao. hope you're ready for some ~answers to questions~ and a whole lotta callbacks to earlier chapters idk why i shoved them all in ch8 specifically but here you go. the scene at yoongi's apartment was one of the very first things i dreamt up in regards to this story and it's nuts to me that we're all the way here now 💜 hope you're ready for a little more insight into these two! also baby goth fans don't come for me..... i promise we'll get a better resolution there..... reader and yoongi just have to survive LA first 😩

an eternal thank you to @haliiimede and @monimonimoon for being wonderful betas, and to @nabiolive for the dead parent sensitivity read lmfao I LOVE Y'ALL

read on AO3!

chapter seven | masterlist | chapter nine

~*~

In the morning, you wake up well before your alarm with an inexplicable uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. When it’s clear sleep is a lost cause, you decide to just get up, and you move through your routine slowly. Everything feels distant, not quite real, like it’s happening to someone else.

On the bus ride to the office, you let your eyes drop closed and try desperately not to replay the events of last night back. You should feel bad about the sex on the conference room table, and you do, a little. But your mind is stuck somewhere else.

Rain streaking down Yoongi’s windshield. The silence as he drove, disturbed only by the low rumble of his voice. The way he’d looked at you, and the heavy pause that hung in the air between you, for just a moment, until you’d fumbled open the door of his car and had practically ran back to the safety of your apartment. And his story— he’d told you something personal, with no malice or hidden agenda that you can manage to find, no matter how much you search for one. Something from when he was just a kid, growing up in Daegu.

You’re embarrassed to admit that it never even occurred to you that Min Yoongi might be a person with a past and a hometown and stories to tell. As long as you’ve known him, he’s always just felt like… a menace. A life-ruiner. An inescapable force.

The thoughts follow you as you step off the bus and make your way into the building and onto the elevator. You can’t figure it out. Yoongi could’ve easily left you to suffer in the rain, but instead he did something nice for you, without asking for anything in return. He’d related to you. He’d let you in, barely, but it’s something.

And you have no idea what to make of it.

Polite small talk with Jungkook as you unlock the front doors is a decent distraction, but you wonder if he can tell that you’re not all the way there today. You set your bag on your desk, then circle around to take a seat, only half-listening as he continues to talk.

“Did you stay late last night?”

You swear your heart stops beating. “What?”

He shrugs, like it’s an obvious question. “There’s the big overseas thing today. I’m sure you had a bunch of stuff to prep. Hopefully it wasn’t too late of a night?”

“No.” The word comes out harsher than you mean it to. You’re not quite sure why your body is suddenly doing emotional alchemy, taking your fear of being caught and somehow turning it into anger. “It wasn’t,” you say firmly.

Jungkook makes a face, like he knows he’s touched a nerve but can’t figure out why. “Okay. That’s good.”

You don’t respond— you just try to control your breathing, try to will your heart to quit racing as you start up your laptop and pretend to suddenly be engrossed in it.

“Well,” he tries again after a moment’s pause. “I guess I’ll see you at the presentation thing.”

“Okay,” you answer, your voice a little softer this time, but you’re still too scared to look away from your screen. When you do eventually work up the courage, he’s already gone.

Before you even have the chance to glance back down, like some universal joke at your expense, the front door of the office is pushed open, and Yoongi steps through. Annoyed as you are, you can only be grateful that his entrance didn’t overlap with Jungkook’s question. You probably would have died of embarrassment on the spot.

Yoongi’s usual dark sunglasses are nowhere to be found today, and he’s in nice clothes for the presentation, a button-down and dress pants, his hair styled. He does still have a death grip on a large iced coffee, but that’s to be expected, especially given the fact that he’s in a lot earlier than is typical for him.

It’s only when his eyes snap over to you for the briefest of seconds that you see the dark shadows sunken deep beneath them, weighing heavy on his face.

Yoongi’s gaze moves back to the hallway in front of him as quickly as it alighted on you. You open your mouth before you even understand why you’re doing it.

“Yoongi?”

He stops dead in his tracks and blinks at you a few times, clearly tired, clearly not expecting the interruption. “Yeah?”

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

His mouth pulls into a flat line as he shakes his head. “Nerves. It’s why I don’t do stuff like this. Unless forced.”

You nod, unsure of what to say— or why you even asked. “Oh. Well, uh. Good luck.”

Yoongi lifts his coffee in a parting gesture, then disappears toward his lab without another word.

You try to focus on your work, to shove the interaction to the back of your mind with everything else you’re avoiding, but the screen seems to blur in front of you, until you finally push back from your desk with an exasperated sigh. The emails can wait.

Maybe, you consider, it would be good to stretch your legs. You can head into the presentation room early to set up before everyone arrives, and make sure everything is working for the several hours of agenda lined up for the morning.

Setting your shoulders back, you grab your things and make your way down the hallway. The thought feels like a good idea until you push the door open and encounter a severe case of deja vu.

Yoongi glances up from his laptop at the front of the room, blearily rubbing at one eye with the heel of his hand. “Is it time already?”

You hover in the threshold, unsure. “Uh— I mean, not quite. I’m early. I can go, if you want.”

He shrugs, busying himself with something on his computer screen. “You’ll have to hear it anyway. Can I just run through it one more time?”

You take a few tentative steps forward, dropping your bag and laptop on the table, right where you sat to watch him the night before. The energy in the room feels entirely different now, and your stomach is twisted into knots that you can’t manage to breathe deep enough to untangle.

“Yeah, fine.” You pause, unable to help yourself. “Just… don’t expect the same treatment as last night.”

Yoongi huffs a dark laugh. “I wasn’t.”

Taking a seat at the table, you set about your admin duties and try to ignore the way Yoongi mumbles over his presentation as he taps through his slides at the front of the room. There’s only so much you can do without bothering him, and you fly through those tasks all-too quickly. You drag your bottom lip between your teeth as you glance back up at Yoongi, and then you inhale to steady yourself before you speak.

“Can you turn on the mic?”

His head snaps up, caught off guard. “Hmm?”

“I need to make sure the mic is working.” Yoongi’s gaze flits to the podium’s built in-microphone, then back to you as he presses the switch to turn it on. “Say something into it,” you instruct. “It doesn’t matter what.”

Yoongi’s eyes move back to the microphone, and it’s like you can see the delay in his brain from lack of sleep. You don’t know what you were expecting— maybe a half-assed ‘check, check’, at worst some sexual or smart-ass remark. Instead, he leans in far closer than is necessary, until his mouth is nearly touching the microphone as he whispers into it.

“Sugaaaaa.”

The live demo of the notorious producer tag that intros all of his tracks is so ridiculous, so unexpected, that you can’t help it. You burst out laughing, clapping a hand over your mouth a few seconds too late. “What the fuck was that?!” The question is only muffled slightly by your palm.

Yoongi’s head drops forward, his dark hair falling in his face, and you can see his shoulders shaking with laughter, too. “Sorry,” he manages with a gasp for breath, tilting back up to speak into the microphone, which you can now actually tell is working properly. “I’m so fucking tired, I think I’m going insane.”

You uncover your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief.

The sudden loud buzz of your phone against the conference room table makes you jump, and you quickly reach for it, for fear it might be an emergency text from your boss that needs immediate attention. Your eyes widen in surprise when you see it’s actually from Jungkook.

Presentation thing? Wanna sit together?

You read the words again and again, and a strange feeling rises up in your chest that you can’t quite name. As you stare down at your phone, you hear the distinct sound of Yoongi’s laptop shutting, and then his voice, no longer amplified by the microphone when he mutters to himself, “Fuck it. It’s as good as it’s gonna get.”

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, you glance up at Yoongi again, then back down at the text. With a final hard swallow, you turn your phone on silent and flip it over on the table, leaving Jungkook’s question unanswered.

The time is close enough now that you get to your feet to prop open the presentation room door, and then your colleagues quickly start to file into the space, filling in the seats around the large U-shaped arrangement of tables. It’s everything you can do to keep your expression neutral as your brain unhelpfully reminds you that Yoongi fucked you on one of these tables last night.

You try to manage something close to a smile when your boss enters with the team from the American office in tow, and you proceed to exchange pleasantries with them and fake laugh at their jokes when he introduces you.

As you’re listening diplomatically to one of them drone on about the flight to Seoul, you spot Jungkook slip in the door out of the corner of your eye, and it takes extra effort to keep the smile plastered on your face. The seats on either side of yours have long since been taken, and you glance over to see his eyes sweep the room before he moves to take an open spot at the far end.

You watch unabashedly now as he leans back in his chair, tilting to one side to pull his phone out of his pocket, and you can only pray he’s watching TikToks with the sound off rather than checking for a text that’s never coming.

When your manager repeats a question meant for you, your attention snaps back to the group. Sure your smile is nearly a grimace now, you apologize and blame the distraction on needing more coffee, which is enough to earn you a polite chuckle.

Eventually the room takes their seats as your manager moves to the front to start the presentation. You stay focused on copying down minutes as various speakers go through the company’s financials for the previous four quarters, the roadmap for the coming years, and a summary of top-level talent that the label has signed or directly worked with.

The discussion of talent leads smoothly into a quick review of achievements and nominations, and then Yoongi steps to the front of the room.

As he launches in, you can’t get over the stark difference between the Yoongi you’re used to and the one standing behind the podium in front of you. The man with the easy, confident, cocky demeanor is nowhere to be found, replaced with someone who barely looks up from his slides and speaks at a rushed pace, like he’s trying to get the words out as fast as possible. You bite down firmly on your bottom lip and try not to react at all.

He’s nearly halfway done now, and just as you’re thinking he might make it through the whole thing unscathed, Yoongi stumbles slightly over his words. It’s not a lot, a little slip-up that the rest of the room probably didn’t even notice, but you see a momentary flash of panic in his dark eyes. And then those eyes snap up to meet yours, and your stomach drops.

The memory of the two of you in this room, the thought of what you’d be doing to him if you were alone again, the way you could so easily make his voice shake and his knees threaten to buckle with just your mouth— it’s all too much.

You can’t help yourself as the smile you’ve been desperately trying to hide starts to spread across your face, equal parts supportive and indecent.

There’s a beat of silence, not long enough for anyone to think anything of it, and then Yoongi drops your gaze as quickly as he found it. He squints back down at his computer screen, and though he leans away from the microphone, you don’t miss the unmistakable sound of him clearing his throat.

“Excuse me,” he murmurs, and then he picks up where he left off, managing to get back on track without further issue.

You desperately try to ignore the warm flush of heat that creeps up your neck as Yoongi goes through the rest of his slides.

Time seems to speed by in a rush after his presentation, and you barely manage to keep up with the barrage of content. You’re more than grateful when your manager inevitably wraps up the session, reminding everyone to head to a nearby restaurant for a team lunch immediately following.

As the room begins to empty, you take your time finishing up the notes and firing them off to the broader audience. When you finally close your laptop and look up, you realize nearly everyone has left now, though as fate would have it, Yoongi has also lagged behind. He’s standing hunched over the conference room table as he types something into his own laptop.

You try not to overthink it as you hug your computer to your chest and take a few steps toward him. “Yoongi?”

He hums a response, and when he glances up at you, the bags under his eyes are just as prominent as before.

“Are you, uh— coming to lunch?”

He rolls his eyes, like the question is ridiculous. “I can’t. I’m drowning in shit I put off for the last two days.”

His words make you take a step back, and you immediately feel stupid for asking. Why do you even care what he does? “Right. Got it.”

You don’t wait around for him to say anything else, you just shove your laptop into your purse and pull the strap over your shoulder as you head for the exit.

Largely preoccupied with getting away from Yoongi, you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings as you slip out of the room, and you only get a few steps down the hall before a voice behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin. “There you are.”

“Jesus!” you gasp, whipping around to find Jungkook leaning up against the glass wall of the conference room, his arms crossed over his chest. “You fucking scared me, Baby Goth.”

“Sorry.” He gives a shy smile, nose scrunching slightly like he’s embarrassed. “I wasn’t gonna let you ditch me again. Lunch?”

You do your best to match his smile. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

The two of you meet up with the rest of the team at a restaurant well out of your price range, and Jungkook babbles freely as he stuffs his face, seemingly unbothered by how little you have to say in return. The chatter of so many people at the long table is a white noise that you can’t focus on any part of, and Jungkook’s usual comforting presence feels overwhelming today, nearly stifling. You push food back and forth on your plate but barely eat, your stomach uneasy for reasons you don’t want to dwell on.

“Min Suga seemed like he didn’t even want to be up there.” The mention of Yoongi’s pseudonym is enough to snap you out of your haze.

“Huh?” You glance up at Jungkook, your eyes widening slightly, and you force yourself to eat another bite of pasta as he continues.

“I don’t know, he went through it so fast. Guess it makes sense. He hates anything that drags him out of his lab, right?”

You aimlessly twirl your fork against your plate, around and around. When you first started this job, you would have agreed with Jungkook without a second thought. Laughed about it, even. Now you’re not so sure. You don’t want to add to this growing sense of friction, the weird energy in the air, but the words come out anyway.

“He was nervous, Jungkook.”

When you meet his gaze again, Jungkook looks confused, and you instantly regret saying anything at all.

“What, did he tell you that?”

You nod as you take another bite of food to avoid having to explain yourself.

Jungkook’s eyes drift down to the table between you, distant, his brow furrowed like he’s suddenly doing some complex mental math. “When?”

“Last night,” you murmur through your mouthful. “We both worked late. I helped him practice a little.” The explanation was meant to make the situation sound less incriminating, but somehow you feel like it only makes it worse. You hope Jungkook can’t tell how warm your face is starting to get.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low, his gaze still not meeting yours. “I thought you said you didn’t stay late. When I asked you this morning.”

A rush of adrenaline hits your bloodstream so hard it makes you dizzy. “I—I didn’t. It wasn’t that late. Like an hour max. Didn’t seem worth mentioning.” You set your fork down, quickly hiding your hands in your lap so Jungkook can’t see the way they’ve started to tremble.

His only response is a slow nod, and then he goes quiet in a way that’s rare for him. It feels like an eternity of sitting and eating in silence before either of you says another word.

The conversation eventually picks back up again, and when it does, you try to tell yourself you’re just imagining that it’s slightly more stilted than before.

As you and Jungkook trail after the rest of your coworkers on the walk back to the office, you trade a few more polite questions about work-related projects, and then you fall quiet again, seemingly out of things to say. It’s a few stretches of city blocks, and then you see Jungkook’s head tip up, and he outright sniffs the air.

You can’t help but laugh a little, mostly because he looks like a dog, and then you smell it too. The unmistakable aroma coming from the street cart up ahead. You smile softly to yourself as you both slow to pass it, ogling rice cakes and fish cakes simmering in a pan of spicy sauce.

“God,” Jungkook groans appreciatively. “I would absolutely destroy some tteokbokki right now if I didn’t think I’d literally explode.”

“This is what happens when you help yourself to thirds every time you eat,” you chide him with a giggle, and the two of you nod to the vendor before you continue on toward the office. You only take a few more steps before you falter, and Jungkook turns back when he notices you’ve stopped.

“What’s up? Did you want to get some?”

You don’t know what makes you lie. “Uh, no. I, uh— I just realized, I think I left my scarf back at the restaurant. I’m gonna run back, but don’t worry about waiting for me. You’ve got work stuff.”

Jungkook shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “It’s cool, I can go with you.”

“No, that’s okay,” you say, firmly enough to make it very obvious you don’t want company. Maybe a little too firm, because Jungkook blinks, like he’s taken aback. Your stomach twists with a feeling that you imagine must be similar to having just kicked a puppy.

“Oh. Alright, well. I’ll see you later, then.” He pauses for a moment, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, and then he turns on his heel and keeps walking in the direction of the office. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch Jungkook’s retreating form until he disappears down the city block.

You try not to overthink the interaction as you retrace your steps to the cart, then head back to the office with a takeout bag gripped in one hand. Thankfully you don’t have to fumble for another lie of an excuse, because you don’t run into Jungkook or anyone else in your straight shot from the entrance to the door of Yoongi’s lab. Quick as you can, you punch in the lock code, then push the handle down and slip inside.

It takes you a minute to process what you’re seeing as you shut the door behind you. Yoongi’s arms are folded on the desk in front of him, and he’s slumped forward, head buried in the crook of his elbow. For a brief moment your heart drops, and then you take a tentative step closer and realize there’s no shake or shudder to his shoulders, only the smooth rise and fall of deep, steady breathing.

He’s asleep.

You close the remaining distance until you can reach out and gently place a hand on his back. “Yoongi?”

He inhales sharply, and you quickly pull your hand away like you’ve just been burned. Tilting his head to one side, he cracks an eye open, mumbling something that sounds like a question but is otherwise fully incoherent.

“You fell asleep,” you say dumbly, and Yoongi slowly sits up with a grunt, his eyes squinting, clearly readjusting to the room around him. He leans back to stretch, and several places in his back and shoulders crack impressively loudly.

“Fuck,” he sighs, voice strained, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “Why are you in here?”

“I brought you lunch,” you murmur, lifting the takeout bag for him to witness. He frowns at it, then up at you, like he can’t quite figure out what’s happening.

“Thanks,” he eventually manages. “You can just leave it. I’m nowhere near done with all my—”

You cut him off before he can finish. “Go home, Yoongi.”

The look of slack-jawed confusion on his face is enough to nearly make you laugh. “What?”

“I said go home.”

His brow furrows. “You’re not my boss.”

“I’m not saying it as your boss,” you sigh. “But you need to eat, and sleep. This isn’t healthy.”

Yoongi huffs a little, exasperated. “That’s easy for you to say, but I have so much stupid admin stuff to get caught up on.” He gestures halfheartedly to a massive to-do list pulled up on his monitor, one he’s barely a quarter of the way through.

Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you hum, feigning thought. “If only you had someone who could help with that. Some kind of… Admin Bitch.”

The comment must catch him off-guard, because he outright laughs. “You know, I still haven’t changed your contact name.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Then you should go before I question why I’m being nice to you. I’ll leave a note for tomorrow with anything I can’t figure out for myself. Assuming you trust my ability to do my job.” As if to indicate that you are no longer open to discussing the subject, you shove the takeout bag into Yoongi’s chest, and he wraps both arms around it, still looking entirely dazed.

But to your surprise, he doesn’t fight you, just slowly rolls his desk chair back and gets to his feet. You watch carefully as he shifts the bag of food to one arm, then grabs his work bag and slings it over his shoulder. “I, uh— thanks.”

You wave a hand as if to tell him not to mention it, and then you plop down into his chair and get to work, barely phased by the sound of the door clicking shut when he leaves.

~*~

As you settle in at your desk the next morning, it dawns on you how close the Grammys have started to loom, made abundantly clear by the overwhelming amount of prep you find yourself launched into. You don’t think you look up from your screen once, not even bothering to greet coworkers as they push through the doors, until the muted tap of something being placed on your desk startles you.

You see the cup of coffee first, and when you glance up expecting a pair of Baby Star Candy eyes, you instead find Yoongi hovering at the edge of your desk, like he’s not sure what he’s doing there. You make zero attempts to hide your total shock at whatever the fuck is going on in this moment.

He looks— good. Fresh-faced, like he managed to actually get some sleep, a little less gaunt. Even his expression seems weirdly pleasant, something you might mistake for happiness if you thought that he was capable of such an emotion.

There’s a crinkling sound, and when he gently sets a small wax paper pastry bag on your desk next to the coffee, you’re sure that you’ve overslept your alarm and are in the depths of a wild, ridiculous dream. It’s the only way any of this can be happening.

You blink up at him as you hesitantly reach for the bag, like you’re scared it might bite you.

“It’s maple,” he says as you slowly pick it up and investigate the contents. It’s still warm. “I asked for the most disgustingly sweet thing they had.”

Too overwhelmed, you set the pastry bag back down wordlessly. As you do, it’s only now that your eyes focus on the letters “AB” sketched in black marker on the side of the coffee cup, where a barista would typically write your name.

Yoongi’s eyes must be watching yours carefully, because he huffs a laugh as he sees realization dawn over your face. “Making them actually write Admin Bitch seemed a bit much.”

You can’t manage to find a laugh to match his, can only sit there, shell-shocked. When you look up again, he’s already walking backwards in the direction of his lab, but his eyes are still on you. “I’d tell you not to tell anyone, but I don’t think they’d believe you even if you did.”

And just like that, he’s gone again.

You remain unconvinced that both of his gifts aren’t secretly poisoned, but your desperate need for a fresh hit of caffeine overwhelms any other emotion. Carefully, you lift the cup to your lips and take a sip— it’s not scalding, but still perfectly hot, and your eyes widen as the flavor hits your tongue.

Two cream, three sugar. Exactly how you like it.

Before you’ve even had time to swallow, Jungkook is suddenly rounding the corner from the opposite direction, and you have to make a conscious effort not to choke.

He slows to a stop, and you watch him take in the coffee cup clutched between your hands like a lifeline. “Hey! You seriously snuck out for coffee without me?” His tone is mock-hurt, but you can’t help wondering whether it’s entirely put on.

Your gaze drops back down to the cup. “Sorry, JK. Someone else picked this up for me.”

Jungkook doesn’t pry into your vague statement, but a sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that maybe he doesn’t have to.

~*~

It’s Saturday night by the time your schedule aligns with Jimin’s for a night out, and given that it’s the last time you’ll see him before you leave for Los Angeles, you manage to guilt him into driving. The bar you choose is a shitty dive nowhere near your office, where you’re certain you won’t have to worry about any accidental encounters.

Or any encounters at all, as it turns out. The place is dead.

“I think we’re single-handedly keeping them open tonight,” Jimin murmurs with a grimace as you grab a pair of stools.

The bartender pours you each two shots and two beers, then returns to their side work at the far end of the bar in an apparent attempt to give the two of you some privacy.

It’s only once you’ve had your first shot and are halfway through the accompanying beer that you’re able to speak the words aloud: “I had sex in the office again.”

Jimin glances up at the ceiling, as if asking for strength, and you recount the full story mostly to the wood grain in front of you, unable to look your best friend in the face while you catch him up on everything.

When you fill in the final details, Jimin nearly spits his drink out. “Suga really hatefucked you on a conference table?! I need to go buy some lottery tickets.” He throws back his second shot, and there’s a smug smile on his face as he swallows it down. “God, I love being psychic.”

You shove an elbow into his ribs. “Listen. I don’t know what’s fucking happening anymore, Mochi. Sometimes he’s insufferable but now sometimes we apparently mildly tolerate and are even nice to each other. Like, coffee and a pastry nice.” You smack your hand on the bar for emphasis as you repeat the words. “Coffee. And. A. Pastry.”

“So,” Jimin clasps his hands together as he surveys you. There’s a look on his face like he’s clearly expecting you to draw some conclusion from all of this, but it seems to have entirely escaped you. “What have we learned?”

You drop your head down on the bar with a resounding thud. “We’ve learned that Min Yoongi is ruining my life.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Voice muffled slightly, you groan. “Don’t make me say it louder.”

“No, what did you just say?” You lift your head up to look at him, and his expression is deadly serious, his eyes sharp and focused. “Min Yoongi? I know Min Yoongi.”

You give him the same look right back. “You what?”

“We were trainees together. I— wait, Min Yoongi is Suga the producer? Really?!” He scrambles for his phone and you just sit there, dumbfounded.

“How are you only now telling me that you know him?”

Jimin glances up, incredulous. “Um, hi, because you literally never fucking told me Suga is Min Yoongi?”

You roll your eyes. “Please, surely I have said his name to you at least once.”

It’s Jimin’s turn to smack the bar, and he does so loudly. “Run those tapes back, ma’am! We have always called him Suga.”

“You’re telling me you’ve never even Googled him?!”

He makes a face like the mere suggestion is ridiculous. “I am an adult, with a job and a very needy boyfriend. Your chaos already monopolizes too much of my time.”

The search on his phone loads, and you watch Jimin tap and scroll slowly, mouth dropping open in disbelief. “Min Yoongi is Suga. Wow. I think I need a minute.”

Jimin’s earlier words finally catch up to you, and you finish the last of your first beer before you dare ask the question. “Yoongi was really a trainee?”

“He was,” Jimin confirms, gaze still locked on his phone. “Obviously he didn’t debut either. He left a few months before I did. I always wondered what happened to him.”

“What was he like?” Your voice comes out soft, a little unsure.

His eyes widen, staring off unfocused as he searches through his memory. “I mean, we weren’t super close, he’s a few years older than me. But it doesn’t sound like that much has changed if I think about what you’ve told me. He was quiet, not too personable. Worked hard. Didn’t really seem that close to anybody. I think maybe he had a difficult home life?”

Your stomach drops a little as Jimin pauses, choosing his words. “Like I guess his parents weren’t very supportive. So I think he felt like he had a lot to prove, and had really high standards for himself. But he obviously loved music. Makes sense that he ended up a producer. It’s like me and dance, right?” He picks up his beer with a shrug, staring thoughtfully down at the amber liquid. “Man. Those years were tough.”

As Jimin takes a sip of his drink and then continues on about his trainee days, your head starts to spin. You throw back your second shot in hopes that it might help.

You wish you could go back and unlearn this information, unsay the name Min Yoongi. Because you don’t want to think about him. You don’t want to know that Min Yoongi gets nervous about public speaking, that he likes his coffee iced, that he can’t say no to street cart tteokbokki, that he used to be a trainee, that he worked an unpaid job in Daegu, that he had a disapproving family and never felt good enough and maybe still doesn’t.

Min Yoongi was so simple when you first met him, back when he was a two-dimensional character, the antagonist of your TV show life, your enemy. But now he’s none of those things. He’s a real, flawed, complicated person, and your feelings for him are confusing and overwhelming. And you deeply do not want to think about your feelings. You don’t want to examine them, don’t want to hold them up to the light for fear of what you might find. It occurs to you in this moment that you don’t want to think about anything at all.

With a sigh, you scoot your chair back from the bar, then get to your feet.

“What are you doing?” Jimin interrupts himself to ask as you dig your phone out of your purse.

You’re doing the only thing that makes sense. “I’m gonna go fuck him,” you say, resigned, and then you make your way out the front door of the bar as you pull up Yoongi’s contact in your phone.

It’s only as the line starts to ring that you realize you don’t exactly have a location in mind. Sex in a bar bathroom is an experience you have no desire to repeat, and the thought of Yoongi seeing your shithole apartment makes your drinks threaten a return appearance.

You’re starting to consider that maybe you should just hang up and forget the idea entirely when Yoongi’s voice startles you.

“Uh, hi?”

“Hi.”

There’s a pause as you realize you didn’t actually plan how to have this conversation, and then you and Yoongi speak in tandem.

“I was just wondering—”

“Is there a reason you—”

“Shut up,” you snap, agitated by your own awkwardness. “What are you doing right now?”

Yoongi laughs darkly into the phone. “I’m sorry, is this a booty call?”

“Answer the question, asshole.”

There’s a slight shifting sound, like he’s making himself comfortable. “Nothing. Drinking.”

“Great, same here.”

Another pause, and you swear you can hear Yoongi slow blinking, can see the stupid smirk on his face when you close your eyes. “Would you like to come over, then?”

“Yes,” you answer, trying to sound more confident than you feel, and then you falter slightly. You’re not about to ask Jimin to drive you— you don’t trust him enough to stay in the car and behave, not when he’s been drinking. “Uh, are you by any chance near a bus stop?”

Yoongi doesn’t even try to suppress his snort of laughter. “I’m not. But I can send a car.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you say quickly, trying to think. “I can figure something—”

“Please,” Yoongi cuts you off. “If you’re really calling me begging to get fucked, the least I can do is provide the transportation. Just send me your location.”

“Fine,” you concede, and your voice comes out harsh. “But to be clear, I am not begging.”

He hums a low note, like he’s thinking it over. “Not yet,” he ultimately responds. “See you soon.”

You swallow hard as the call disconnects.

The time it takes for the car to arrive is just enough for you to slip back inside and finish your beer, and Jimin’s eyes narrow with frustration when you’re unable to explain yourself.

“Didn’t you just complain that this man was ruining your life?”

“Yes,” you retort. “And then I thought it over, and I decided that’s my job.” Your phone buzzes with the notification that the car is outside, and you quickly swig the last of your drink. “Bye.”

Jimin’s face twists like he’s holding further commentary back, which you didn’t think he was capable of doing without combusting. “Alright, babygirl,” he finally sighs, defeated. “Call me if you need saving.”

“I always do,” you deadpan as you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek.

~*~

Yoongi doesn’t say anything when he opens the door for you, just nods his head to the interior of his apartment to gesture you inside, letting the door swing wider so you can step past him. He shuts it again as you slip your heels off, and it takes you a second to adjust to your true height difference, the fact that you have to look a little further up to meet his gaze now.

“Want a drink?” is his delayed greeting, and you shrug.

“Yeah, okay. Just whatever you’re having.”

Without another word, he turns and heads down the hallway, and you follow after him, taking in your surroundings as you move further inside. It’s only now that it occurs to you how rich he must be. His place is identical to any one of the swanky, million-dollar Hannam apartments of which you’ve spent thousands of hours watching YouTube tours. You try to keep your expression neutral as you follow him into the living room, but it’s hard not to be impressed.

Yoongi crosses the room to a mini-bar, built into the far wall and softly backlit with inset LEDs. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth as you hover nervously for a second, then finally choose to drop down onto the large, L-shaped couch, setting your purse on the floor next to you.

“Thoughts—” When Yoongi’s voice breaks the silence, you start a little, not expecting it. “—on single malt whiskey?” He turns over his shoulder, and you shrug back at him.

“Never met one I didn’t like.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up, just barely. “Alright.” You watch as he grabs a dark green bottle off the shelf, coating the bottom of a glass with the amber liquid inside, then just barely topping up what must be his own drink. He crosses back to the couch, hands you yours, then drops down a respectable distance away from you with a sigh of effort.

The atmosphere is certainly different from what you’d expected, and Yoongi must be able to tell you’re a little on edge, not sure what to do or why you thought coming here was a good idea.

He glances over at you as he swirls the contents of his glass. “Not feeling up for much small talk tonight. Sorry.”

“That’s fine,” you say quickly. “We don’t have to talk.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you grit your teeth in anticipation of the smug smile, the cocky smirk at your unintended double meaning, but it never comes. Yoongi stays just as he is, slouched forward, his eyes unfocused, like he’s got a thousand thoughts running through his mind at once.

You turn sideways on the couch so you can look over the back of it and out of the large picture window behind you, where the city is alive in a blur of light and color, bracketed by the dark swath of the Han River.

Yoongi’s whiskey is strong but smooth, tastes like the bottle probably cost more than the entire bar-tab you and Jimin rang up tonight, and you sip it slowly. The thought of your best friend sparks something in your mind— you find yourself speaking again in spite of your previous statement.

“I just found out that you know my best friend. Park Jimin.”

At this, Yoongi looks up, clearly stunned. “No shit?” You nod, taking another pull from your drink, and he shakes his head. “I haven’t heard that name in years. How is he?”

“He’s good,” you murmur, the sharp taste of alcohol lingering on the back of your tongue. “He’s really good. He actually just performed in the concert I took Jungkook to.”

Yoongi pauses, glass halfway to his lips. “What group is he in? For someone in the industry I am atrocious at keeping up with this shit.”

“Oh, he’s not, he’s just a back-up dancer now. He never debuted.”

Yoongi nods slowly. “Well. Makes two of us.”

Your chest starts to tighten a little— you’re weirdly nervous to talk to him about this. It feels like uncharted territory. “I can’t believe you were a trainee.”

He leans back, resting his free arm over the back of the couch, fingers tapping idly. “I can’t either, most days. It was a long time ago. Feels like it happened to somebody else.”

Torn between deep curiosity and not wanting to pry, you stare down at the liquid swirling in your glass and leave it up to Yoongi. To your surprise, he keeps talking.

“So what did Jimin tell you about me?”

The unexpected question makes you laugh a little. “Uh… I don’t know. Said you sound like you’re still the same as you were back then. Keeping to yourself and working a lot.”

You don’t know if you should repeat everything, but the liquor loosens your tongue. “He said your parents weren’t very supportive.”

You glance up to see Yoongi shake his head, matter-of-fact. “They were not. So you can imagine how well they took it when I quit.” Your heart sinks at the thought. “Probably put a chip on my shoulder, if I want to be introspective about it. Explains the workaholic tendencies, maybe.”

He takes a longer sip of his drink this time, chasing his swallow with a grimace as he stares at the floor. “It’s funny. I always feel like I have to do better, even now. I get obsessed with work because it’s better than being depressed. And most of the time it feels like there’s nothing else to do anyway. I just work myself to death because it’s my only reason to stay alive.”

Your stomach drops sharply, and you can’t help but look over at him as he continues, feeling thoroughly unprepared for this sudden insight into the inner workings of Min Yoongi.

“It doesn’t even matter what milestones I hit, the fame, the fortune, whatever. I’m going to the fucking Grammys next week and it still doesn’t feel good enough.” His eyes flicker up to find yours, and his voice is quieter now. “Even if I win, I know it won’t. How sad is that?”

“You sound like my dad,” you mutter into your glass, and then your gaze snaps back to Yoongi as you realize what you’ve just said.

He looks as surprised as you feel, and you steady yourself as you take a swig of your drink and swallow it down. Fuck it. If he can overshare, so can you. “Work always came first, before family, before everything. And you know what happened? He dropped dead in his office before he even turned fifty. They said it was probably stress.”

There’s a flash of something in Yoongi’s eyes, but he doesn’t try to interrupt you.

“It makes me so mad,” you say, and you will yourself not to get emotional, your grip on your drink tightening slightly. “Because he worked so fucking hard thinking that once he got to a certain place, he’d be happy. Just a little more, then he could relax. But he never got there. He worked non-stop his whole life and then he fucking died. That’s it.

“And you know what’s really fucked up?” You don’t wait for Yoongi to respond— you can’t stop it all from coming out now, like a tap turned on high.

“People say grief makes you resilient, that it makes you stronger, or kinder, that we go through these things and they’re hard but you learn from them and grow or whatever the fuck. And I don’t feel like any of that shit is true for me. My dad died, and I just got worse.” A self-deprecating laugh flutters out around your words. “I’m selfish. I’m lazy. I make terrible choices. I deeply cannot fucking stand myself, if I’m honest with you. Jimin is like the one friend I still keep in touch with who knew me when my dad was alive, because everyone else just… didn’t know what to do with me. And I don’t blame them.

“And it makes me feel like such a fucking asshole, because he died, and I’m sitting here complaining about me. It’s like I don’t even miss him as much as I just miss… the way things used to be. The person I used to be.” You let yourself take a breath, but the final thought, the part you don’t usually say out loud, slips out with it. “It’s like she died, too.”

There’s a long pause that feels like an eternity, and you realize your heart is racing in your chest. You lean back against the couch with a sigh of frustration, too embarrassed at your own word vomit to do anything but stare at the stupidly high ceiling. You’re so wrapped up in the rush of saying it all— it’s been a while since you’ve gone this deep with anyone— that it takes you a second to notice that Yoongi is laughing softly.

“Wow. And here I thought you were just a slacker.”

The words make you glance over at him. You haven’t divulged these feelings to many people, but nearly everyone you’ve told has responded the same: awkward apologies, shitty words of affirmation you didn’t ask for, waxing poetic bullshit lies about how you’re not a bad person. A road paved with good intentions, things meant to console you that only make you want to scream.

But Yoongi gives you none of that. He just nods, like he understands.

“Well,” you counter, trying not to let the shock read on your face. “I thought you were just an asshole.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I am an asshole. I’ll own that.” He smirks into his glass as he takes another sip of his drink. “Do you want to know something?”

“What?”

He suddenly pauses, like he’s not sure how to word it, like he maybe regrets asking the question at all. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so hesitant before. “You have to not make a big deal about it.”

“Okay,” you say simply. You’re willing to return the favor.

“The night I left the studio door unlocked, and there was the break-in,” Yoongi starts, his thumb fiddling with the ring on his index finger. Something twists in your stomach, an intuition you can’t explain that makes it immediately clear to you what he’s about to say. “I wasn’t thinking about locking up that night because I... was planning to kill myself.”

It’s like all the air is sucked out of the room, and you will yourself not to react, gripping your glass until your knuckles blanch. Your eyes drop to the floor as you try to process the weight of his words.

“But you didn’t,” you reply dumbly.

“No, I didn’t. I walked up and down the bridge over the river for a long time. Probably an hour, maybe more, I don’t know.” You look up to the window again, tracing the inkblot snake of the river in the distance.

“I thought about it, and then I decided to go home. I thought that maybe I could give it just one more day and see what happened. And then when I got to work the next day, I was in such deep shit about the break-in, I felt like everyone would blame themselves if I did it after that. Like they’d think they were too hard on me.” He laughs bitterly to himself. “Like I’m not always the one who is hardest on myself.”

“Yoongi,” you breathe. “I don’t know what to say.”

He shrugs. “You don’t have to say anything. It just feels nice to tell someone.”

There’s a heavy silence between you, and heat rushes to your face as the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “I’m glad you didn’t do it.”

He glances over at you, brows pinched together like he doesn’t believe you. “You hate me.”

“I do not!” The insistence in your voice surprises even you. In an attempt to ground yourself, you press your palm to the side of your drink and try to focus on the feeling, the cool surface against your flushed skin. “I mean, I definitely did. But now, I don’t know. Would I really be wasting my Saturday night here if I hated you?”

Yoongi pauses with his glass halfway to his mouth, and you can see him fighting to keep a smile off his face. “Look at me, you came over here to fuck and I turned it into a therapy session. Christ.”

With a final shake of his head, he downs the last of his drink in one swallow. “You want a tour?”

You follow Yoongi as he takes a winding path through the various rooms of his apartment, and you continue to sip at your drink, barely processing any of what he shows you. Your mind is still spinning from the conversation, and that paired with the cotton fuzz of strong liquor makes everything feel muted and far away.

As anticipated, the tour ends in his bedroom, which matches the rest of the place: sleek, minimally decorated, and bathed in the soft glow of inset strip lighting that runs the length of the ceiling.

When Yoongi sets his empty glass down on the dresser, you mirror him, then watch as he steps in to close the distance between you. As your eyes search his, you realize you’re once again caught between conflicting versions of Min Yoongi, still trying to reconcile the one you thought you knew with the person who just spilled his guts all over the living room floor. It feels impossible to hold the two of them together in your mind.

Up close, his smirk seems to soften. “You’re a lot shorter without those heels.”

Before you even understand what you’re doing, or why, you take his face in your hands and kiss him. It’s only a split second, your lips barely brushing over his, and then you quickly pull away, struck by the reality of what you’ve just done.

“Shit,” you breathe, dropping your hands and taking a step back. You stumble slightly as a hot wave of shame rushes up in your chest. “Sorry, I just—”

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Yoongi’s touch is sliding over the curve of your waist, and then he’s dragging you back toward him until his mouth finds yours again. The taste of whiskey lingers on his soft lips as they move against yours— you can’t help but whimper a little at how hungrily he kisses you. Like he’s wanted to do it for a long time.

The idea overwhelms you, and you pull away from him again, your lips still ghosting over his. “Yoongi.” You try your best to sound firm when you say his name, pressing one hand against his chest as you look up at him. “This… can’t mean anything.”

You can feel the heat of his breath when he laughs softly. “It doesn’t have to. I’ve been trying to tell you that.”

Too desperate for his mouth to want to argue, you decide to let him win. “Okay,” you sigh. Your hand is already tangled in his long, dark hair by the time his lips meet yours again.

“Get on the bed,” Yoongi murmurs between kisses, and you do as he says.

Moving backwards, you crawl up toward the pillows while Yoongi crosses the room to hit a panel on the wall, dimming the soft lights overhead until they’re barely there. He comes back to join you, strong hands wordlessly guiding you to lay down beneath him.

It’s weird to not be rushing through this: to feel like you can take your time as he kisses you again, as you lick into his mouth to roll your tongue over his, as one of his hands starts to creep under your skirt to gently rub up and down the length of your thigh.

The motions of his hand push the fabric higher and higher, until it’s as far up as it can go, and he leans back, clearly not satisfied.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, and you nod, sitting up to help as he pulls your dress up over your head.

It occurs to you a beat too late that you’ve never been this naked in front of him before, and your heartbeat flutters. “You too,” you murmur, pinching gently at the hem of Yoongi’s t-shirt, and he smirks as he reaches one hand between his shoulder blades to tug it off entirely.

You take him in as he drops the shirt to his bedroom floor: he’s broad-shouldered in a way you’ve never noticed under all his baggy clothes, with firm definition in the muscles of his chest and arms, and there’s a flush of warm glow to his pale skin.

As you blink up at Yoongi, more than dazed, you realize his eyes are roaming over your body, too. “Fuck,” he swears under his breath, and you resist the sudden urge to hide from his surveying gaze. “You have great tits.”

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that, and the surprise of it makes you laugh.

“Just for that, I’ll let you see them,” you say, unable to keep the teasing edge out of your voice as you lean forward to reach behind your back. Your hands shake a little more than you’d like as you fumble to undo your bra and toss it off the side of the bed to join everything else.

Your nipples stiffen quickly in the cool air of his room, and when you lay back again, Yoongi covers your body with his, the movement paired with a groan that’s nearly a growl. You can’t hold back your own soft sounds as his lips and tongue move down your neck, and it occurs to you now that there’s so much that the two of you have never done before. So many steps you skipped.

Like the way Yoongi cups one of your breasts in his hand, rolling his thumb over your nipple to earn a louder whine from you. “Shit,” you gasp as he does it again, his mouth still trailing kisses between the valley of your breasts.

“God,” Yoongi hisses against your skin. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

With his thumb continuing to work at one nipple, he takes the other into his mouth, and you can feel the way your arousal is starting to soak through your panties as he sucks firmly at the stiff peak. You arch up into him, and then he’s shifting to roll your nipple between his teeth and tug, and you can’t help it— you flinch and yelp beneath him, overwhelmed.

He quickly pulls his mouth off of you, eyes flashing up to find yours. “Sensitive?”

You nod, face flushing, embarrassed. “A little bit of teeth is okay. Too much hurts.”

“Okay,” Yoongi answers softly. He licks up the underside of your breast to pull the bud of it back into his mouth, and the swirl of his tongue there soothes like an apology. When he just barely grazes his teeth across the sensitive peak, it’s enough to make you keen, your eyes rolling back as they flutter closed.

“Oh, fuck, just like that.”

With a wet noise, he pulls off to switch sides, repeating the firm suction, the drag of his tongue, the slightest brush of teeth. His fingers pinch gently at your other nipple, made slick with his spit, and he keeps working you lazily, unhurried, until your body writhes underneath his.

“Yoongi—” You try to catch your breath, and you run a hand through his hair to pull his mouth off of you. His jaw is still dropped open slightly when he meets your gaze. “Touch me.”

His lips pull into a smug smile. “Told you you’d beg.”

Your grip on his hair tightens in response. “Not begging. Ordering.”

Yoongi tuts gently, like he’s disappointed. “I don’t follow orders, sweetheart.”

As much as his teasing irritates you, a twin smile to his spreads across your face. “I’ll kill you,” you murmur, releasing your grip as he shifts back onto his knees.

It gets harder to focus on your bloodlust when his palms run over the curve of your hips, then press between your legs to part your thighs. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he deadpans as his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties and he starts to drag the lace down your legs.

“That’s fucking dark,” you can’t help but laugh as you kick your underwear the rest of the way off.

Yoongi licks his lips, clearly distracted, and you spread yourself wider for him. “This pussy,” he grunts hoarsely, like he’s talking to himself more than you. “Gets so puffy when you want it. All tight inside, too.” He unexpectedly slaps the whole of his hand over your center, and you gasp, your hips jolting up.

You don’t even have time to respond before he’s pressing a finger into you, your cunt squeezing tight enough to reward him with an audible noise as he fucks it in and out. “Fuck,” you groan.

“You get this wet just from having your tits played with, huh?”

The thorough analysis makes you huff a laugh, because he’s not wrong, and it stutters into a moan when his thumb gently starts to circle your clit.

“God,” you manage to choke out, “you’re fucking chatty tonight.”

Yoongi smirks, and you’re not sure why until he speaks again, his voice now pinched in a clear imitation as he withdraws his hand. “I’m sorry, is there somewhere you’d rather I put my mouth?”

Your jaw drops in disbelief as he repeats your own stupid tease from weeks ago back to you. “I’ve changed my mind,” you snap, sitting up a little, and Yoongi glances at you, already in the midst of settling between your spread thighs. “I do still hate you.”

“That’s fine,” he says with a shrug, and then he leans in to lick a thick, wet stripe up your slit. His mouth is immediately dizzying, and you drop your head back against the pillow, overwhelmed.

It’s another thing you’ve never done before, at least not with Min Yoongi. As he repeats the motion over and over, lazy long strokes where he drags his tongue from your entrance all the way up to circle your clit, you mentally kick yourself for every missed chance, every opportunity to have his mouth that you didn’t take.

“What the fuck,” you breathe.

Yoongi just barely pulls off of you, close enough that a string of your arousal is still joined to his lower lip when he speaks. “You’re not the only one with good head game here.”

He dives in again like he’s determined to immediately prove his point, and you shove your legs open wider as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

As much as you’d like to bruise his ego, it’s impossible to keep yourself from moaning when he pairs the firm suction with the press of his index finger back into your tight heat. As wet as he’s made you, he’s easily able to slide a second in beside it now, and your nails scratch helplessly over the sheets beneath you.

“Yoongi,” you gasp as he curls his digits to beckon inside you, stroking over your front wall and easily finding the spot that makes you gush. He does it again and again, like a button press, working up more and more arousal until you’re dripping down his wrist.

Even the way he hums against your pussy sounds like a smirk, but you’re too far gone to care. Yoongi starts to flick his tongue steadily over your clit, matching the rhythm of his fingers pumping into your g-spot, and you can feel the pressure in your core building, a band pulled tight enough to snap.

Your hips buck up toward his mouth in an overwhelmed reflex, and Yoongi’s free hand is immediately there like he was expecting it. His palm presses firmly to your lower abdomen to hold you down and keep you there, and even that feels good too, renders you entirely helpless to his mouth and his hands as he takes you apart.

“Fuck,” you moan, loud and unabashed now. “Fuck, yes, I’m—”

The feeling overtakes you before you can get another word out, and you nearly sob as your orgasm rips through you, your whole body straining hard against Yoongi’s strong hand as he pins you to the bed. The extra pressure on your core pushes a rush of fluid out of your cunt, enough to soak the sheets beneath you as your muscles contract around Yoongi’s fingers.

“Oh my god,” he doesn’t even pull away to groan, and the low vibration of the words against your throbbing clit makes your thighs tremble.

There’s a wet smack of his lips and tongue as he finally relents, the pace of his fingers slowing as he continues to work you through the aftershocks. You desperately try to remember how to breathe as you start to come down.

Yoongi is a fucking sight when he leans back to look up at you: long hair falling in his face, eyes dark with lust, lips and chin slick with your arousal. “Did you seriously just squirt?”

It’s been a long time since anyone has managed to make it happen, and you suddenly feel overwhelmed in a different way. Still recovering, you can barely get the words out. “Shut up.”

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘shut up’? It was hot,” Yoongi grunts, and you’re at least grateful that you don’t have to have the ‘it’s not pee’ conversation right now. He ducks his head down again as he withdraws his fingers, and his tongue drags up the crux of your thighs to chase a few stray droplets. You squirm, oversensitive, your legs nearly snapping shut around his neck, and he takes the cue to back off with a soft laugh.

You’re too spent to fight it when he starts to manhandle you a little, palms slipping under your ass to drag you further down the bed until your hips are flush with his, then encouraging your knees to pull up toward your chest. “Think you can do that on my cock?”

The question sparks something in your core, the first lick of a freshly lit flame, and you prop yourself up on your forearms to better meet his gaze. “Make me.”

Yoongi’s appreciative smile is nearly a snarl, and he shifts lower on the bed to quickly strip out of his pants and boxers. You watch as he starts to crawl back up your body, anticipation tightening in your core, and then a flash of realization crosses his face and he freezes.

“Fuck,” he swears, and your stomach drops.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot I’m out of condoms.” Your eyes widen as his gaze meets yours. “Do you have any?”

You shake your head. “Not with me.”

A muscle in his jaw works as he exhales a resigned sigh, and you reach out, one hand finding his bicep to stop him before he leaves. You want it too much, bad idea or not. “Just… fuck me anyway.”

His expression goes deadly serious, and there’s a long moment before he responds. “You’re sure?”

You swallow hard as you nod, your eyes searching his. “Just pull out, okay?” You hate yourself for saying the final word before it even leaves your lips. “Please.”

“Okay,” Yoongi repeats back to you, and his hands press to your thighs again to encourage your knees up as he positions himself between your legs. There’s a feeling humming in the space between your bodies, like the reality of the situation has settled over the both of you. The reckless abandon of the previous moment is gone, replaced with something slower, more hesitant. Heavier.

With your eyes fixed on his face, you feel it first: the weight and warmth of his cock grinding over your slit, sliding easily with how soaked you are. You look down to see it for yourself, flushed dark and hard enough to leak precum, trailing a glossy sheen over your folds as Yoongi guides it against you, one hand gripped firmly to the base. He teases the head of his dick over your clit and keeps it there, and you’re still sensitive enough to whimper at the feeling.

“Please,” you repeat, and he’s too focused to be smug about it. He just nods as he drags his cock back down to your entrance, then braces one hand against your thigh and starts to push in.

You exhale softly at the welcome stretch, familiar made new at the lack of anything between you. You can feel it all: the thick swell of the head of his cock as he eases you open, how he throbs gently as your walls squeeze around him, so tight that you can even feel the prominent veins that trace down his shaft.

You’re still wet and getting wetter from the way he fills you up entirely, your arousal drenching the length of him when he bottoms out with an audible slick sound. His cock twitches, buried to the hilt, and even that barely-there motion is enough to coax a breathy moan from you.

“Shit,” Yoongi laughs softly, and the tinge of humility to his voice makes you glance up at him again. “Not gonna be able to go that fast. Feels too good.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “Just…”

The words won’t come. It would mean too much to say what you want, and this isn’t supposed to mean anything at all.

So you don’t say them: you just hook your arms over his shoulders and pull his mouth down to yours. “Just fuck me,” you murmur against his lips. He grunts a low note of appreciation as he kisses you, as he starts to drag his cock out of you just to fuck it back in again.

It’s shallow, it’s slow, it’s nothing like what you’re used to with Yoongi, but it’s good. Good enough to make your kisses sloppy when you trade open-mouthed breaths, good enough to make you tilt your head and slide the flat of your tongue over Yoongi’s unabashedly, like an earned reward.

He pushes your knees up a little more, thrusting deeper this time, and the new angle drags the head of his cock right over your g-spot. You whine at the heavy weight of him, the shudder that ripples through you in response, and he stays there, stroking steadily to rub that spot again and again until your eyes roll back in your head.

“Oh my god, Yoongi,” you gasp into his mouth.

“Shit,” he groans shakily, reaching one hand up to brush his hair out of his eyes. A few dark strands stick to the sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Squeezing me so fucking tight.”

Your arousal coils hot and fast inside of you as he keeps thrusting, and you have to break away from kissing him to tip your head back on the pillow and moan. “Fuck, please don’t stop, I’m—”

It feels like the final second before your climax when Yoongi pulls out, sitting back on his knees between your spread legs with a low groan. The sudden loss of his cock makes your walls clench at nothing, and you whine, petulant. “Yoongi!”

“Sorry,” he mutters, breathless. “Almost came.” You glance up to see him squeezing at the base of his cock with one hand, his chest heaving with effort. Your hips tilt up toward him, jealous.

“I miss your cock,” you whine, fucked close enough to be shameless.

“You’ll get it,” he retorts, and then you feel three of his fingers press in to fill the space he left behind inside of you. “Want to make you come again first.”

You keen as he starts to pump them, wrist angled just right to meet your g-spot each time. “Oh fuck, Yoongi.” The arousal in your core aches as he fucks you open on his fingers, and you can hear how wet you are in the soaked squelch of your needy pussy, can feel it leaking down your thighs.

His thumb brushes over your clit with every upstroke of his hand, and it makes you gasp, your moans starting to pitch higher. “Harder, baby, please, I’m so close.”

Too lost in the feeling, you barely notice when Yoongi laughs a little, but he does as you ask, and the way he pounds into you is just enough to work you over the edge. Waves of pleasure rip through your body as you come for a second time, squirting a little on his sheets again, your thighs shaking violently.

“That’s it, there you go, fuck,” Yoongi groans appreciatively at the sight.

You’ve just barely made it past your peak, still shuddering all over, when Yoongi withdraws his fingers to shove his cock back in again, and you keen.

He thrusts like a man close to his own end, fast and hard, his breath coming in ragged pants of effort and pleasure. Your pussy pulses around him, squeezing like a vice, so swollen with sensitivity that it really does feel like he’s splitting you open every time he fucks into you.

You moan unabashedly now and cling to him all over, legs bracketing his snapping hips, nails of one hand digging into his shoulder, the other hand tangled in his hair. Your cunt throbs and gushes around him as he strokes, and it still feels like you’re coming: you can’t tell if it’s an intensely drawn-out second orgasm or if the hot stretch of his cock worked you seamlessly into a third.

When he finally pulls out, you drop back against the bed with an exhausted groan, every inch of you fucked into oblivion. You can barely focus your eyes to watch as Yoongi shoves his hips up to straddle yours, one hand working his cock until his release overtakes him.

He flattens both palms to the mattress as he starts to come, groaning softly and rocking his hips so that his cock grinds against your stomach. The head of his dick twitches visibly, leaking pulse after pulse of sticky gloss over your skin, and he smears his cock through it as he ruts against you. He keeps going, rolling his hips and rubbing the mess across your stomach until he’s thoroughly spent, until you’re both flushed and sticky all over.

“Holy fucking shit,” is all he can manage when he finally collapses down on the bed next to you.

You glance over at him and nod, trying to imply without speaking that the feeling is mutual. He meets your gaze, and you lay like that for several long minutes of silence as your breathing slows, eyes fixed on each other as your heartbeats race through the comedown.

It’s hard to believe that any part of tonight has been real, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.

As the post-orgasm glow starts to settle, exhaustion hits you like a train. You groan, breaking the prolonged eye contact to throw an arm over your face, blocking out Yoongi’s bedroom with the crook of your elbow.

You’re not expecting it when he softly says your name, and something in your gut tells you that whatever’s coming isn’t good. You will yourself not to look back again, to stay as still as a statue when you answer him. “Hmm?”

“You know Jungkook is in love with you, right?”

The plan to not move goes out the window at his words. Your pulse spikes, and you drop your arm to look at him, your face twisted in confusion. “What?!”

Yoongi studies your expression for a second, then makes a small hum of surprise. “Interesting. I figured you were just trying to let him down easy.”

“I— what?”

“You really didn’t know?” He scoffs, and his tone is enough to instantly make you set your jaw. “It’s pretty obvious. It’s funny, I guess he’s sort of inadvertently responsible for all of this.”

That takes a second to sink in, and you blink. “How?”

Yoongi stares up at the ceiling, seemingly nonplussed. “Well, when he asked me for the code to my office, I figured he wanted to take you in there and fuck you.”

Hot blood rushes to your chest, and you sit up a little. “You talked to Jungkook about fucking me?”

“No.” Yoongi blinks. “This was before anything happened. I haven’t told him anything. It was just clear he liked you, even back then, because I have eyes. So I was trying to do him a favor. He’s a good kid.”

You squint, still trying to catch up. “Why would Jungkook fuck me in your office?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s the only door that locks. Sometimes you get desperate.” You swallow the immediate urge to argue when your brain unhelpfully reminds you that you have in fact fucked Yoongi at the office. Twice.

“But you know, I figured he’d wine you, dine you, all that romantic crap first. I’m sure he’s a very respectable sex on the third date kind of guy.” That all-too-familiar smirk is back when he glances over at you again. “I guess neither of us realized who we were dealing with.”

You open and close your mouth a few times before you can remember how to speak. “I’m not having this conversation with you. Particularly not with your cum still on my stomach.”

Yoongi nods toward the en-suite. “There’s towels in there. Or you can shower if you want.”

Your head spins as you silently slip out of his bed, and you shut the bathroom door firmly behind you, wishing you could leave that entire conversation on the other side of it. Maybe his fancy shower will get hot enough to blast all the thoughts out of your brain, you reason, and it only takes a bit of fumbling with the knobs before you figure it out.

The water pressure is so much better than what you’re used to that you groan a little when you step under the spray. You turn in a semicircle, letting it beat down on your neck and shoulders as you close your eyes, willing the tension to melt out of your body. You really are exhausted, practically asleep on your feet, despite the way your mind is still racing.

You don’t know why you came here tonight. You don’t know what you thought would happen. You don’t know what makes you keep coming back to Yoongi, over and over, like a moth to a flame, like the definition of insanity. You don’t know why he opened up to you tonight, or why you decided to do the same— or what the fuck compelled him to say that Jungkook is in love with you. You don’t know if things are supposed to stay the same after tonight, or if they will be irrevocably different, and you don’t know which you’d even want.

You have no idea what you want, actually. Another drink would be nice.

The sound of the shower door opening startles you, pulling you up from your thought spiral, and your eyes snap open to see Yoongi shutting the door behind him. Without a word, he steps in to crowd you under the water, and you hate the way your heartbeat flutters when he’s close to you.

“What are you—” you try to ask, but you don’t get to finish the sentence before his hand cups your jaw and his mouth finds yours.

His kiss blots everything else from your brain, and in this moment, you’re grateful for it. You lean into him, letting him in deeper when his tongue traces your bottom lip, whimpering softly as his other hand presses to the small of your back to pull you closer.

You don’t know what he wants, either. Why he came in here. But you have a guess.

“Yoongi,” you murmur against his lips. “I can’t again. I’m so tired.”

“It’s okay,” he answers softly, and then his mouth drags you back in like a riptide.

You don’t know how long you stay there like that, kissing him under the steam and the spray, but you’re breathless when you finally pull away to look up at him. Water droplets are twined through his long, dark hair, collecting delicately on his eyelashes, trailing down his neck and over the muscles of his chest.

“You can sleep here tonight, if you want,” Yoongi offers, and before you can even process the words, he’s stepping back to push the shower door open behind him, and then he’s gone.

With the glass fogged over completely from the heat of the water, and the white noise of the fan overhead, you have no concept of when he leaves the bathroom, or what else he might be doing. You just know you feel entirely alone.

After scrubbing yourself thoroughly with a washcloth that you lather in Yoongi’s soap, you emerge from the shower, grabbing a towel from the linen cabinet to wrap up in. It’s weird to smell like him, sandalwood and musk, somehow both comforting and alienating.

When you nudge open the door to his room again, it’s empty, and the inset lighting has been turned off entirely, the room bathed only in the glow of the bedside lamp that’s been switched on.

He’s left out one of his t-shirts for you, and you recognize it as one you’ve seen him in often at work. You remember Googling the label once out of curiosity and nearly passing out at your desk when you saw the three hundred dollar price tag. You pull it on over your head, then return to the bathroom to hang your towel up.

As you slip back into the bedroom, you can’t help but wonder where Yoongi’s disappeared off to, but you’re too exhausted to go looking for him.

Though you figure he’ll be in eventually, your heart still sinks a little as you pull back the covers and crawl into his bed. It feels so much bigger when you’re the only one in it. You decide to leave the lamp on, then turn over to press your cheek to the pillow, and the waves of sleep almost immediately pull you under.

You’re still alone when you wake up in the morning, the other side of the bed entirely undisturbed.

Blinking slowly, it takes you a moment to remember where you are, and then the night comes back to you piece by piece. The lamp on the nightstand is still on when you sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

Yawning and rubbing sleep from your eyes, you push open Yoongi’s bedroom door and pad down the hallway, trying to make sense of things. You have to retrace your steps all the way back to the living room before you find him, curled up on his side on the couch with one arm tucked under his head, still sleeping soundly.

He looks smaller like this. More vulnerable, maybe.

You wonder if you should’ve asked him to join you in his bed, and you wonder why he didn’t. Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you decide to let him rest.

You move through his apartment aimlessly, like a patron in a museum. Something cracks open inside of you as you allow yourself to take in his place undisturbed, and with it, what could be. The idea that a night spent here could feel normal. The two of you in the clearly well-used kitchen, how you might sit on the counter with a glass of wine while he cooks dinner. Talking about your days, about the past and the future. Sharing a life. Fucking and showering and falling asleep in his bed, tangled up together.

For something so close, it feels impossibly far away in the harsh light of morning. It feels like something meant for a much better person than you.

When you make it all the way back to his room, you peel your borrowed shirt off and drape it across his bed like you found it. You retrieve your clothes from last night off the floor and pull them back on.

Thankfully Yoongi chose to fall asleep on the far side of the couch, so when you re-enter the living room, you’re easily able to grab your purse where you set it down the night before without waking him. You slip your heels on in his entryway, then open the front door and shut it as quietly as you can behind you.

You fish your phone out of your bag and scroll until you find Jimin’s contact, then press it to your ear as the line starts to ring.

~*~

You don’t hear from Yoongi at all on Sunday, and you barely see him at work the next few days. You don’t know why it surprises you. It makes sense. You said that night had to mean nothing, you left in the morning without another word, and it’s not like you’ve made any effort to reach out since.

But nevertheless, hurt feelings sit heavy in the pit of your stomach, stinging like salt in an open wound. You’re angry that Yoongi seems to be acting like nothing even happened. You’re annoyed that you have to spend an entire weekend alone with him in Los Angeles. And you’re pissed off that you have so much fucking work to do in preparation for a trip that’s all about him.

You keep your head down and just try to fucking survive. You stay silent in your meetings unless directly asked a question. You type furiously at your desk, forever behind on emails and late on promised deliverables.

The week passes by in a blur, and it doesn’t even occur to you what day it is until you find Jungkook waiting for you at your desk when you return from an afternoon meeting.

“Hi, Jungkook.” You try to say it gently, to not take your frustrations out on someone who didn’t even do anything. While you’ve made polite small talk all week, things certainly haven’t felt normal, and you can’t tell if he senses it too, or if you’re just letting Yoongi’s cryptic words plant imaginary strange vibes in your head.

To his credit, Jungkook seems unfazed. “It’s the last day before your trip!” he says brightly, and your eyes widen as you realize he’s right. “What’s the rest of your day look like?”

You take a seat at your desk and pull up your calendar to check, and he circles around to look with you. “That was thankfully my last meeting,” you respond. “Just getting back to my never-ending to-do list now.”

“Or…” Jungkook prompts, and you glance up to see him leaning forward to rest his elbows on the back of your desk chair, his chin propped cutely in his hands. “You could not do that.”

You blink up at him. “And what would I be doing instead?”

“I was thinking, it’s been a while since we’ve had a walking meeting. Plus it’s actually nice out. So you should take a break.”

Glancing back at your to-do list sends a fresh wave of dread through you, and then you snap your laptop shut with a resigned sigh. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Not only could you use the break, but you want things with Jungkook to feel normal again, even if the weirdness is only in your head. Maybe this is what you need.

Down in the lobby, Jungkook holds the door for you, and when you step outside, you realize he’s right. It’s one of those clear-sky early spring days, warm enough out that it feels like the world is starting over, like everything is coming back to life. You can’t help but feel like you could use a fresh start, too.

Though you expect to be led somewhere with food, Jungkook takes a different route instead, and you follow him a few blocks over to the entrance of a nearby park. You end up side by side on a paved pedestrian path, the length of which is lined with trees that have only just begun to bud.

It’s quiet, save for the distant noise of the city, the rustle of nature, and the rush of the occasional cyclist whizzing past. You walk slowly as you chat about nothing of importance: work, music, his dogs.

Jungkook glances over at you during a moment’s pause, with a look on his face like there’s a question he’s been waiting to ask. “So how are you feeling about your trip?”

You can’t quite manage to keep your expression neutral, your eyes rolling like a reflex. “Whatever. I just want to get it over with.”

“Ah.” Jungkook nods, and you can see he’s biting back some reaction. “For some reason I thought you might be excited.”

“What do you mean?”

He just shrugs. “I don’t know. You’ve been… different lately. About Suga. I thought maybe something was going on.” An uneasy feeling starts to wash over you.

“Nothing is going on with me and Yoongi,” you say, far too quickly. Jungkook glances at you, his brows pinched together slightly as if he’s unsure what to believe.

“Okay,” he says simply. You hope that’s the end of it, but then he keeps going. “That’s good. I’m glad I don’t have to tell you to raise your standards.”

Heat rushes into your face, caught somewhere between shame and anger. “Um, what does that mean?”

You grit your teeth when he just shrugs again. “I don’t know. He was such a jerk to you, and then suddenly it’s like you guys are hanging out and getting close and stuff—”

“We are not close,” you interject, and you hate how unsteady your voice sounds when you say it.

“Good,” Jungkook responds. “Because I thought maybe you might be, and it didn’t make any sense to me.”

Overwhelmed by his words, you come to a standstill on the pavement, and he makes it a few steps further before he realizes. As he turns back to face you, the words rush out before you can stop them. “I mean, I don’t see how it’s any of your business either way.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows again. “It’s my business because I care about you. He made you so miserable when you first started, so I don’t see how you could just forget about that and be into him, especially when you could…” He trails off and looks down, unwilling to finish the sentence.

“When I could what?” Another fucking shrug, and you can feel the rage inside you simmering now, threatening to boil over. Yoongi’s question comes back to haunt you— you know Jungkook is in love with you, right?— and the pieces start to slot together in front of you.

“When I could be into you?” you press him, taking an accusatory step closer. “Is that what you want to say?”

His gaze flits up to the trees above you, like he’s willing to look anywhere but your face. “No. I don’t know.”

The birdsong in the air has suddenly started to sound a lot more like screaming, and you have to suppress the urge to do the same. Instead, your voice comes out low and deadly serious. “You and I are friends, Jungkook. Just friends.”

“I know we are,” he says softly.

“Do you?” you snap back, vicious now. “Because it sounds to me like you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he responds automatically, in the same tone, and you scoff.

“Look me in my face and say it.” You take another step toward him, and his eyes meet yours. He’s silent long enough for you to understand the truth, and all at once, you feel like a fucking idiot.

“Let me make this clear to you,” you hiss. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and making my own decisions. And I do not have to explain or justify them to anyone, including you, because you are not my fucking boyfriend.”

When you spit the final word, Jungkook flinches like you’ve slapped him, but you can’t stop now. You’re so angry, it feels like it’s eating you alive. “When I want your opinion, as my friend, I’ll ask for it. Understood?”

You’ve never seen him look at you the way he does now, his eyes dark, his face twisted into a near grimace. There’s a long pause, and his voice is stilted when he finally speaks. “Yeah. Sorry I brought it up.”

The two of you walk back to the office in total silence, and Jungkook doesn’t try to talk to you again.

~*~

It’s early enough to still be pitch black outside when Jimin pulls up to the curb of your terminal at Incheon Airport.

“Thanks again for driving.” You yawn around the words as you reach down to unbuckle your seatbelt. When Jimin suddenly pulls you in for a hug, you groan at the affection, but he pays it no mind, dotting kisses over your hair that make you squirm.

“Love you, have fun. And be a slut!”

You roll your eyes as you manage to peel him off of you. “Bye, Baby Mochi.”

Slipping on a face mask, you push the door of his car open and climb out of the passenger seat. You swing open the trunk to grab your suitcase, then slam it shut again and step up onto the curb.

Making your way into the terminal, you dig your phone out of your bag to double-check the text from Yoongi, and then you glance up at the sign overhead to confirm you’re right where he said he’d be.

It takes a second for you to realize the person walking in your direction is Min Yoongi. The black baseball cap pulled low over his eyes is certainly not a bad look, but when paired with his black face mask, it makes him almost impossible to identify, or get a good read on. Rolling your suitcase ahead of you, you move toward him, and the two of you meet in the middle.

You wore sneakers today, so he still seems tall.

“Hi,” you say simply, a thousand different emotions swirling in your gut. You do your best to ignore them all.

Yoongi hums a wordless grunt back in response, then turns to face the already bustling security line. You mirror him, and for a moment the two of you just stay like that, like you’re standing firmly in the present and unsure of what might be waiting on the other side.

He gives a tired sigh. “Ready?” You’re surprised to learn he can speak this early in the morning.

“I guess so,” you answer.

Perfectly in sync, you both push your bags forward, stepping carefully toward a weekend that feels impossible to imagine.

chapter seven | masterlist | chapter nine

#yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #look down on me like that

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