#that is such a good expression man you really captured a feeling of oh shit this is sad bad 👍🏻

[hoshigray]

𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!

“Trick-or-treat!!”

“Gasp—Oh my goodness!” 

“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”

Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family. 

The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”

“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.

“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.” 

The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”

He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?” 

“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”

“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?” 

You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.” 

“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”

“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.

“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.

To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.

However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you  — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.  

Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.

Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about. 

There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.

“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner. 

“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.

“Why him?” They said in unison.

“Why not??” You question their irritation.

“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.

You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.” 

“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years. 

“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink. 

You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—

DING-DONG!!

Now.

Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”

You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.

Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo. 

One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow. 

But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?

“Ya awake now?”

You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone. 

It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?

You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“

“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”

“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”

“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.” 

“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.” 

You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”

“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”

And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”

“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”

Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”

Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.

“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.” 

“Still traumatized from that one time?” 

“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”

The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”

“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”

“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”

“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”

“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”

More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”

“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.” 

You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”

“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”

Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”

“Mmm.”

Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.

That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.

“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”

He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”

It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“

“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…

“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.

He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great. 

And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!

“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”

“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”

He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.

“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…” 

“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”

Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty. 

“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”

One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.

His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.

You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—

CLACK-CLINK!!

The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.

“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”

“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?” 

“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.

You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!” 

But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”

You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!” 

“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”

And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.” 

You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.

You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs. 

With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”

Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.

After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street. 

…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.

“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.  

“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”

“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.

“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.

“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.

He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights. 

Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way. 

The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.” 

With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?

“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”

“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.

When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?

“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”

You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come. 

“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow. 

“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.

Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.

“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.” 

As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse. 

“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. 

“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”

Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!” 

How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.

Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body. 

Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.

“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.

“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”

“Yup, that’s what happened.” 

This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.

It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.

When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.

The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?” 

“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.” 

“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side. 

“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs. 

“Will do.”He whistles. 

“And Toji?”

The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point. 

And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”

You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?

“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.” 

“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”

“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.” 

You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”

“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.” 

“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”

Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?” 

An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you. 

You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.

“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.

“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“

“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.

“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.

“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”

“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”

You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.

“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”

“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.” 

Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired. 

Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”

“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”

You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[mattslolita]

my goodies - m. sturniolo

in which ... a girl who was once jaded at a halloween party endures in a night of fun when she meets the cute guy with the vampire teeth — and he gives her a night of memories. ( matt x black!fem reader )

warnings ; smut, unprotected piv ( wrap it bitches! ), oral ( female receiving )

"𝒊 𝒃𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒃𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

"girl, this party better be worth it," you say, crossing her arms across your chest as you step out the uber with your friend jaycee.

"girl, it will be!" jaycee grinned encouragingly, as she hooked her arm with yours. "tara invited us both, by the way."

"oh, word?" you say, a smirk on your face, "haven't seen my girl in a minute, i miss her!"

"she invited a lot of her friends, maybe you might make some new ones too girl!" jaycee tells you happily, as you both make your way towards the venue.

skeletons, zombies, fake webs and all kinds of halloween decorations littered the venue as you looked around, taking in the sight — you came dressed as a cheerleader from euphoria, and you could feel the skirt lowkey riding up your ass, causing you to tug down on it a bit as you both walked arm in arm.

when you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted with the smell of alcohol and faintly weed which intoxicated your senses. you were glad those were provided, because you had forgotten to bring your own after getting ready.

your brown skin glowed in the dimly lit venue underneath all the lights, and just as you were getting a headache tara's smile could be seen as she was approaching you both.

"jaycee! y/n!" tara says excitedly and as she's moving closer you can smell the faint pink whitney while she reaches her arms out towards you, "i'm so glad you guys made it!"

"glad to be here boo, i haven't seen you in a cool minute!" you tell the shorter girl as you pull her in for a hug. "now tell me why my ass is already getting a headache?"

"nuh uh, you're not gonna do that, y/n!" jaycee said with a small glare.

"she's right, there's no way you're leaving!" tara added with a shake of her head. she held a cup up towards you and you took with raised eyebrows. "drink this and have fun, babe!"

with a sigh you took the cup from tara's hand and peer in it before tipping the cup up and downing it one go, shaking your head a bit from the burning sensation.

jaycee giggled at your reaction, as tara dragged you both over to meet some of her friends — everyone you had met was really nice to you, some guys even looking to flirt with you at one point. you met tara's ex boyfriend jake who you thought was funny as shit, and his best friend johnnie who was emo but hey — you liked emo boys.

jaycee had eventually got dragged away by a cute brunette boy who wanted to dance with her, so you stood where the drinks were at and refilled, looking around with a bored expression.

when you turned around to get another cup, you felt a smooth breeze whip by you as hands were on your waist, causing you to turn around.

"sorry about that," a cute brunette man says to you, his hands on your waist as he walks to the side of you.

"you good," you say to him.

immediately you notice how attractive he was, his eyes and cheekbones being the thing that captured you first. he grins down at you, causing you to bite your lip as you tilt your head at him.

"i saw you over here, you look bored," he whispered to you, leaning down to your ear as he played with the hem of your skirt.

"yeah?" you answered him with a playful grin, "well my home girl is dancing with some guy and i don't wanna dance anymore."

"i'm matt," he introduced himself.

"y/n."

you both look at each other for what feels like an eternity — he goes to gently grab your waist again and gently rubs his thumb back and forth on the fabric of your skirt causing a wetness to form on your core as you stared up at him.

"you lookin' to have fun, sweetheart?" matt whispers in your ear, and you clench your legs in response to the action.

"fuck yes," you say back excitedly.

you quickly latch your hand onto his which he accepts gratefully, as you guide him through the crowd looking for an empty room — as you're passing both jaycee and tara catch a glimpse of you and jaycee grabs onto tara's waist and pretends to hit from behind as tara holds her hands and moves her butt on her, causing you to stick up your manicured middle finger at them in response.

finally reaching an empty room, matt almost shoves you inside and your back is immediately pressed against the door as he's pulled your neck to meet him in a heated, hungry kiss.

you instantly wrap your arms around his neck as both your tongues battle for dominance — matt's arms go down to hoist you up by your waist as his hands roughly latch onto your thighs.

"jump," he grunts, and you oblige, jumping into his arms and attacking his lips once more.

never breaking away from the greedy kiss, your lips entangle one another as matt turns and walks you towards the bed, laying you down on your back as he hovers over you.

"you know at first," he says, his hands rubbing up and down your sides as he places wet, open mouthed kisses to your neck, "i was thinking of how much i want my cock inside you."

"then i realized," he smirks, opening his mouth to reveal the pearly white vampire teeth he showcased — he ran his tongue over the sharp canines causing you to whimper as you pulled him down to lick over the teeth yourself.

"i need to taste you, angel."

another whimper escapes your mouth as you look up him at him with your doe eyes, causing his dick to twitch in his pants — he leaves more open mouthed kisses along your neck before signaling you to take off the top.

you discard it quickly along with your skirt, revealing your matching blue bra and lace panties, causing matt's mouth to salivate at the sight. "fuck, blue is my favorite color."

"you better not ruin it then, especially if you wanna see more of me," you grin at him with a wink, causing him to grip onto your thighs.

he's at the foot of the bed, and he brings your thighs up close to him — matt leaves slow, deliberate kisses along your thighs on both sides all whilst keeping eye contact with you. your core was now soaked beyond belief, all you wanted was for him to do something.

"matt p-please, i need you," you whine out, and he flashes you a taunting smile, those pointed teeth flashing in the dim moonlight.

"don't worry baby, i'm gonna take care of you," matt promises, his hands digging into your brown flesh softly.

he leans down in between your legs, his breath now fanning over your clothed pussy. he presses a kiss to your clothed core, causing a gasp to fall from your lips.

"p-please..."

in a matter of seconds, matt pulled your panties down your ankles and threw them somewhere in the room, getting level with your pussy again — like a starved man, his hands grip onto your thighs once more as his tongue attaches to your throbbing bud, sucking slowly while keeping eye contact with you.

"oh, fuck!" you whimper out, your back arching as you grip the sheets beneath you.

and that's all it takes for matt to dive in, his nose on your clit as he laps you up feverishly, his tongue greedily delving into your delectable taste.

"fuck angel, you taste so damn good," he grunts out, his hips rutting into the mattress as his erection is very prominent.

matt continues nipping and sucking at your clit, and you're pretty sure at one point you could feel him spell his name with his tongue judging from the movements of his mouth. you're a moaning and whimpering mess, your pussy clenching as you feel your orgasm approaching quickly.

"matt i'm close," you manage to breathe out, your back somehow arched even more for him.

"yeah? you gonna cum on my face, angel?" matt says, "come on baby, give it to me."

the tightness in your stomach finally snaps, and you release all over matt's face as you let out a high-pitched moan — he's quick to lap up all your juices, licking his lips with a satisfied grin.

he comes back up and crashes his lips back onto yours, and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue. matt pulls away quickly to discard his pants and boxers, his large cock finally free from its confines as its dripping with precum.

you salivate at the sight before you — he's fucking huge. you hoped he would fit.

matt strokes his tip along your cunt bathing his cock in your juices, causing you to both moan at the feeling before he inches himself inside you slowly.

"fuck," you both moan at the same time, your hands immediately finding their way to his back.

"you're so fucking tight, shit," matt grunts, fully pushing inside you and bottoming out.

without giving you time to adjust to his size, he begins slamming into you at a relentless pace, causing the headboards in the room to creak.

"fuck matt, fuck!" you scream out, your back arched as his cock hits your sweet spot deliciously.

"you feel so fucking good baby," he grunts out, interlacing his hand with yours as he continues fucking into you.

"right there, baby!" you moan out, looking up at him through your lashes at his fucked out expression, his silver horse chain dangling above you.

matt's eyebrows creased and he felt his orgasm approaching as he watched drool begin to form at the creases of your mouth, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

"fucking you so good you're cock drunk, angel?" matt teases you, never letting up on his pace as he fucked you, "i'm gonna fuck my seed into you."

"y-yes matt, n-need it inside me," you blabbered out, your nails digging into his back, "m' so close..."

"fuck, i'm close too baby," matt moans, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he leans down to give you a open mouthed wet kiss, "cum for me, angel..."

with a pornographic moan of his name, for the second time your orgasm rippled through you as it spilled out of your pussy — soon after matt came, painting your walls white as he helped the both of you ride out your high.

he pulled out of you, but shoved two of his ringed fingers inside to keep his juices in there, grinning up at you as he did so.

"that was the best orgasm i've ever had," you breathed out as you fell beside each other.

"think you wanna let it happen more often?" matt asks you with a playful grin as he turns to look at you.

"definitely," you giggled, then your eyes widen and you shook your head. "fuck, i'm never gonna hear the end of it from jaycee and tara."

"good, you can let em know how good i fuck you," matt said, placing a kiss to your cheek as he gets up from the bed. "let me clean you up, angel."

( lilly's section 💌 )

AHHHH thank you all SAURRR much for 1.1k, i'm so grateful for each & every one of you 🫶 i love you all endlessly, & i'm so sorry this took long to publish😭

@muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @thenickgirl @mattsivy ❤‍🩹

[tojifile]

@Satosugu . . . ( ´ ꒳ ` )

Tags: idols!satosugu, f!reader, very very cliché wattpad 2018 plot, fan!reader, satosugu x reader, fluff, no curse au, cursing, use of petnames, mentions of stalking, clingy Satoru, kind of ooc (?), reader is 18 n the guys are 19, reader is shorter than both of them, NOT A SATOSUGU SHIP POST

A/N: Thinking about Geto Suguru & Gojo Satoru and those kpop fics I saw everywhere on Wattpad during 2018. I made it less (?) cringe. This is just for fun anyways, I still eat up the most cliché shit. I just love love love them. Pt.2 is out now frfr!!

Kaisen - JJK Entertainment ☆

- Gojo Satoru

- Geto Suguru

idol!satoru who you literally bump into on a cold winter’s night in Japan. He has this cheeky grin on his face as he saw your shocked expression. “Hey princess!” He teasingly says. You thought that he looked kind of familiar but you weren’t really paying much attention, you were too caught up trying to escape the guy who has been following you.

idol!suguru who almost immediately noticed the man all dressed in black who seemed to be keeping a close eye on you while also maintaining a distance. Suguru observed the man as you and Satoru conversed.

idol!satoru who’s fond of the way you look up at him before apologizing, as if your brain buffered for a second. “Like what you see princess?�� Satoru teased. You snap back into reality and turn red, you then started to apologize profusely. “I’m– I’m sorry for staring and bumping into you, I really didn’t mean it!!”

idol!suguru who then whispers something to Satoru. He decided to take matters into their own hands. It was obvious that the man was someone you were trying to get away from and the man was obviously intimidated by Suguru and Satoru.

Before you knew it Satoru went to your side and interwined his fingers with yours. “Just follow our lead princess. We won’t hurt ‘ya, I promise.” He then began to lead you somewhere while Suguru walked right behind you.

You then start to notice some people taking pictures of you and the two random men you just met a minute ago. Suguru then went to your side to make sure you weren’t captured by any more pictures. Although, the constant camera clicks did make you curious. You looked up to catch a glimpse of Suguru and Satoru’s face. It was at that moment you realized that these two weren’t just random men—they were world-famous idols.

idol!satoru who caught you trying to sneak a peek at the both of them. Your blush didn’t go unnoticed as you realized who they were. He chuckles but chose to let it slide. Trust me, he really, really wanted to tease you, but he figured that Suguru and him should take you somewhere safe first.

idols!satosugu who brought you to their hotel room. Suguru tries to make you feel comfortable. He makes small talk as you sat beside him on the couch, asking you about your name, likes and dislikes, what you did today. You were still in shock, you couldn’t believe you were in the hotel room of your favorite idols. Although you weren’t as much of a fan as everyone else, you couldn’t deny how handsome they were.

Suguru also made sure to tell you that the man who was following you couldn’t follow you inside the hotel. Their security here was great and he wanted to reassure you that you were in good hands.

idol!satoru who wants to keep you with him forever. He’s now saying things like, “Oh princess! I wish I could keep you in my pocket and bring you back to Korea!” His words make you blush hard. But Satoru’s words made Suguru sigh, he didn’t want you to think they were like your stalker.

Turns out they planned a semi-secret trip to their hometown. They didn’t tell the world they were going there, but they weren’t exactly hiding it. You were grateful yet utterly confused. Why would they help you out of nowhere?

idol!suguru who insists on walking you home but then they get mass texts from their manager in JJK Entertainment;

manager

Didn’t I tell the both of you to not get into trouble??

Check your socials, you and Satoru were found with some girl.

I swear to god Suguru, this is a PR disaster. We’ll pick you up as soon as possible. For now, don’t go out of your hotel room.

19:27

Suguru sighed as he saw the text messages, he knew they fucked up. “Okay, never mind, we can’t walk you home. Our manager got intel that the press is looking for us in the lobby—the three of us. They saw you in the pictures and now they want to know who you are.” Suguru got on one knee in front of you so that he would be at eye-level. He took both your hands in his and said, “I’m sorry.”

idol!satoru who immediately realizes that means you have to stay with them. “So that means you have to stay with us princess!” He happily states, “But– but maybe the pictures aren’t clear enough! I could sneak past the press and–” you were cut off by your own self as your gaze fell on Suguru, still on his knee holding both your hands.

idol!suguru who sweet-talks you into staying with them. “We’d feel much better if we know you’re safe here with us. Some fans can get crazy y’know.” Suguru spoke as he looked into your eyes. He really wanted to give off that yearning vibe. Which again begs the question, why were they so keen on helping you?

“Okay.. I’ll stay..” you hesitantly replied.

idol!satoru who then steals you from Suguru by hugging you tightly. “Great choice princess!” He was so happy, it was contagious. The both of them didn’t even mention being idols they just talked about their manager as if they had normal jobs. That was until Satoru decided to be cocky about it, “Y’know princess, most fans would’ve said yes immediately! Are you perhaps not a fan? Or even—a hater?!” He said dramatically.

idol!suguru who has a scowl on his face because Satoru stole you and because of Satoru’s question. “That’s none of our business Satoru.” He scolded his friend. Satoru only laughed in return.

idol!satoru who speaks in the most dramatic way possible. “But we’re world-famous idols Suguru! Surely this cute little princess is one of our fans, right princess?”

Gojo Satoru—the Gojo Satoru looked at you confidently as he waited for your answer. It made you a bit nervous, “I– I am a fan! I just didn’t want to be a bother..” you replied. “Plus you can never be too sure about people, I can’t just trust you because you’re idols!” You then sighed at the irony of that statement, “but I did because there was no other choice.”

idols!satosugu who listened to you speak attentively. They were very touchy and loved being close to you. It’s like they lacked physical affection. Suguru in front of you and Satoru beside you, such a cute duo.

idol!satoru who is the whiniest man ever. “So you think we’re bad people? I thought you were better than that princess..” he pouted. “No I don’t! I’m just saying you can’t trust too easily!” Satoru only laughed as you tried to defend yourself. He hummed, sarcastically agreeing to your words as you finished.

“Okay princess, whatever you say.” He mocked as he pulled you onto his lap, embracing you by the waist.

idol!suguru who tries to keep his best friend tamed. “You’re too touchy with her Satoru.” To which Satoru replies with a pout. “But she likes it!” He whines, “don’t you princess?” You turn red at his words. Suguru only sighs, he holds your hand, hoping you aren’t done with them. He just wants to help you.

idol!satoru who knows no personal space and props his chin on your shoulder as he continued to hug your waist from behind.

idol!suguru who rested his head on your lap, tired. At this point he didn’t bother telling Satoru off. He was just reduced to a big sleepy man.

idols!satosugu who were now all over you, both derived of physical affection. You couldn’t escape the idols now.

Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

[xazse]

the afab gojo x male reader is so good ! but i lowkey want gojo to get his lick back and make male reader jealous like i get it’s unrequited but i lowkey feel like mreader is attached to him a bit.

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I REALLY WANTED TO GET THIS OUT TO YOU BOTH ON TIME SO I APOLOGIZE IF THIS IS RUSHED. SO HAPPY YOU LOVED MY AFAB<333 I HOPE YOU STILL LIKE AFAB GOJO!!

Idk about you but I feel like the best revenge is to slowly drive the other person insane.

Male!reader is a scumbag and might not align with you, like forreal scumbag!

Warnings: Fem!Satoru x Male Reader, Pussy-eating, sexting, jealous!reader, mean!reader, patheticmale!reader

Oh m!reader is most definitely in love with Satoru, that night When you were fucking Suguru he realized how much you would ramble on how much you hated Satoru’s guts and the only thing he’s good for is his body and pussy. But he seen the slight light in your eyes when you were describing him, by the end of the night Suguru just wanted to go home , he hadn’t even realized you were involved with Satoru so he felt like shit by the end as well, so ready to go home and tell Satoru to avoid you like the plague.

Satoru does eventually start to slowly distance himself from you, no longer is he blowing up your phone wondering where you are, he’s barely responding to your messages, and he most definitely stopped begging you to see him and look at him. He finds himself not entertaining your attempts to make him jealous or angry. He does work on himself, meaning he’s buying a new wardrobe and posting cute selfies, basically in your words auctioning himself off to other people.

You do notice the things he’s doing, ignoring you in favor of other people who aren’t even worth his time or yours. Two can play that game, Satoru is clearly going through something and needs a little convincing to get him back in the right mind, so you’ll give him the space he so clearly fucking needs, and it’s most definitely not gonna drive you crazy.

A week later your at a party, attempting to look for someone even as half as pretty as Satoru, he’s also present, so beautiful and a beaming smile gracing his face, he looks a little brighter, and it’s definitely not because of you. He’s with his usual group of friends, looking so dull compared to him. There’s a hand behind his back, seemingly going up and down in a soothing motion, you follow the hand and you scoff loudly from across the room.

A dude who looks plain and most definitely not Satoru’s type.

You see Satoru peek at the man and give him a kiss on the cheek whilst he whispers something in his ear, a giggle leaves his pretty pink lips before he’s departing somewhere. You’re quick to follow him outside to talk.

“What’s with you lately? Why are you avoiding me? And who’s that dude in there?” You pester Satoru with endless questions, not letting him even get a breath in.

“He’s someone I’m talking to right now, and why are you so worried?” Satoru glares, his eyebrows furrowed and yet you still find him to be so pretty when he’s frustrated.

“Not worried , just wondering why you aren’t picking up my calls.”

“Been busy, enjoy the party.” Satoru is quick to push through you and back to party, forgetting what he came in the kitchen for. He peers over his shoulder to see you standing there staring daggers at him with an expression he doesn’t recognize, oh you’re fucking pissed. It makes his body shiver and his cunt clench around nothing, he wants to see just how much he can push you.

One night while Satoru is alone in his room he does the unthinkable, he props his phone up and spreads himself wide in front of his camera, his pretty pussy on display, he grabs his favorite dildo and begins working it inside of himself, slow and steady is how he starts, he makes sure the video gets everything, every sound, every movement is captured. The dildo reaches so deep while it stretches his hole and makes him so wet, he’s heaving as he continues to abuse himself to completion. When that’s all done with he sends it to you, but he makes it look like it wasn’t for you, an accident is what he wants you to think.

A few hours later Satoru’s doorbell rings and to his amazement it’s you, looking a fucking mess, dressed like as soon as he sent the message you were out the door and on your way to his place. There’s a fiery but pathetic look in your eyes.

“Toru’ please” your voice sounds raw as you beg?

And a few minutes Satoru has you on your knees eating him out, you flatten your tongue and lick a stripe up his pussy, you’ve been wanting him for as long as he’s been torturing you, starving just to even touch him a little bit. You’re ravenous with your tongue work, licking up all his essence as it seeps out of him.

Satoru is rough with his hands, shoving your face even deeper so you can lick all the parts of him, he snaps at you to suck on his clit, and you listen like the obedient thing you’ve become, he’s moaning and mewling so cutely, you’ve missed his sweet honeyed voice, though he isn’t yelling your name you’ll take what you can get.

Your balls feel heavy when you unbuckle and pull your pants down to rest around your thighs. Fat cock already fully hard you begin stroking yourself slow and steady, precum already dripping you use that as lubricant. The burn in your body ignites, the combined sucking on Satoru’s clit and jerking your cock off feels so damn good, everything feels right, but also twisted.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Playing Pretend (Part 10)

Two fools in love waste no time.

Roy Kent x Reader

2.1k words

Warnings: Language, suggestive fluff & allusions to smutty things, one instance of violence that is very well-deserved

Author's Note: Ahh, I'm kind of sad to be done with this! But I'm so glad y'all enjoyed it. Might do a little epilogue down the line... we'll see! 😘

Series Masterlist

“Your crown is crooked.” You reached up and readjusted it, letting your fingers caress Roy’s thick curls as you fixed the flower crown, more than a little amazed he’d continued to wear it throughout the reception.

He watched you with the widest, happiest eyes, so full of love he was afraid he might burst at any moment. The two of you had spent the last couple of hours managing to be even more insufferable than you’d been pretending to be the last few days: unable to keep your eyes off each other’s lovestruck faces, exchanging eager kisses every couple of minutes, clinging to each other as if afraid the other might disappear at any moment.

It was enough to make Jim sick.

Late into the night- really early into the morning- after all the drinking and dancing and kissing, you gave Roy a meaningful look, nodding towards the house with raised eyebrows.

Roy Kent did not need to be told twice.

He gripped your hip tightly and practically sprinted towards the house, towards the promise of the room and the bed you shared. After years of pushing these kinds of thoughts to the back of his mind, Roy was more than a bit eager to make those fantasies reality.

Just as Roy was about to open the backdoor people had slowly disappeared through all evening, the groom approached, drunkenness clear on his face. “Think you have a dance for your brother-in-law?” Jim asked, eyes lingering on the spot where Roy held you.

Love bubble properly burst, you shuffled closer to Roy. Even if it wasn’t your ex-boyfriend-turned-new-brother-in-law asking you to dance, you were hesitant to remove yourself from Roy’s embrace, and even more hesitant to put off the activities you had planned. Not when you’d spent practically your whole life dreaming of this man.

“Don’t think she wants to, mate,” Roy grumbled, his smile faltering for the first time since you’d returned from under the willow tree. “Go find your wife or somethin’.”

Absolutely not what Jim wanted to hear. “Oh, fuck off, Kent,” he groaned, loud enough to capture the attention of a couple of people walking nearby. “Think you’re so fucking great because you get paid to kick a ball around? Think you’re so fucking great because she always liked you better?”

Roy rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on you; you wondered if you’d have bruises on your hip in the morning. “Seriously, Jim. Get the fuck over yourself. Go drink some fucking coffee.”

Even if he was sober, Jim wouldn’t have listened. Not to Roy Kent of all people. “Oi, you going to ask for a turn with my wife when you’re finished here? You clearly love my sloppy seconds.”

That was more than enough for Roy. Jim could talk all the shit he wanted to about Roy’s career and Roy himself; but to talk about you? Fuck that.

It felt good. All those years of watching Jim with his tongue practically down your throat, hands possessively on your body, leading you on, and eventually breaking your heart twice, all his bullshit made it feel so damn good when Roy’s fist connected with Jim’s jaw.

Jim crumpled to the ground immediately. Roy didn’t stick around to watch the people who rushed over to help the groom up; instead, he yanked the door open and ushered you inside, adrenaline pumping through his body. All you could do was gaze up at his steely expression, so different from the soft, love-filled looks you’d been basking in all night.

In the seclusion of a staircase, away from the party and the people who’d just witnessed what was sure to be the most talked-about moment of the weekend, Roy came to a halt, cupping your face in his free hand.

“Alright there, love?”

Love.

His gentle voice soothed all the anxiety that had been bubbling beneath your skin since the moment Jim had asked for a dance. All you could do was nod, gripping Roy wherever your hands could reach. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, hoping the gesture would erase any embarrassment he’d just caused you.

“Sorry about that,” he whispered. “I just… the way he fucking talked about you…” He shook his head, where the flower crown still sat, although crooked again. “No one gets to talk about you that way. Fucking ever.” He pressed his mouth to yours, a bit rougher now, letting his kiss tell you what he was thinking: because you’re mine.

Fighting off the temptation to go at it right there in the stairway, you had enough sense to tug him the rest of the way up the stairs, not stopping until the door to your room was closed and locked behind you. In an instant, your back was pressed to that door and Roy’s lips were on your neck, the footballer lacking the patience to make it to bed.

Suddenly, he started chuckling into the crook of your neck, his beard scratching against your skin.

His laugh was infectious. “What’s so damn funny?” you hummed, hands skimming down his back, a certain part of your brain wondering why he still had a shirt on.

He shook his head, pulling back a smidge so he could gaze up at you, eyes sparkling. “I think we can safely say we’re uninvited from the fucking brunch tomorrow.”

The giggles you shared filled the room as you finally tumbled into bed.

~

It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up in Roy Kent’s arms, but it definitely was your favorite instance so far. Unlike before, you didn’t panic or try to escape; instead, you nuzzled closer, engulfed in his scent, wondering if he’d let you wear his shirts to sleep every night. He probably would. Roy had a hard time saying no to you before; it would be damn near impossible now.

His eyes were still closed as he tightened his grip around you, almost afraid to open them and discover that the night before- the whole weekend really- had been some wonderful dream. But when he did finally will himself to open his eyes, Roy felt himself melt at the sight of you.

Yeah, he’d thought you were a goddess last night in your dress and flower crown, the one that sat on the nightstand now, the one he’d probably keep forever. But this morning you looked fucking ethereal in his shirt, your hair still holding some of its curl from the wedding (despite his best efforts to ruin it the night before), your still swollen lips curved into a smile as you gazed at him.

“Morning,” he mumbled, pulling you against his bare chest. He wondered how soon was too soon to ask if he could wake up like this every morning.

You pressed a small kiss to his chest, right above his heart, the heart that you now knew belonged to you. “Morning.”

He let his hand snake up the shirt you wore- his shirt- to stroke your bare back, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of you shivering in response to his touch. “Kind of thinking we should get up and head home soon.”

“Don’t want to bump into the newlyweds? Find out if you broke the groom’s jaw?” you teased, pretending that the sight of Roy Kent punching your ex wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever witnessed, something you’d be replaying in your mind over and over again.

He let out a small huff of a laugh. “Actually, I need to get home. ’ve got plans later today.”

“Oh.” You didn’t bother hiding your disappointment; you’d been hoping to spend the day together, holed up in your new little love bubble, maybe a lazy day at his place, maybe watching His Girl Friday for the millionth time.

“Yeah, I have a date.”

Roy savored the confusion on your face before he saw delight replace it. You were so precious to him, always so sweet and adorable and endearing. And now you were his.

You stole a brief kiss, your heart swelling at the idea that you were Roy’s plans. “So, five-star restaurant or Tesco?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

He laughed as he turned and pulled you on top of him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

~

It was neither. Instead, after he reluctantly dropped you off at home so you could get ready, Roy went all out planning a romantic picnic, packing foods he knew you loved and a bottle of wine that he remembered you enjoying. He also packed plenty of biscuits, wondering with amusement if you’d still be interested in feeding him sweets now that you didn’t have any witnesses to impress. He added the blanket you liked to use when you came over and stopped to pick up flowers before driving to your place.

He did nothing to hide his enthusiasm when you opened the door in a sundress that drove him fucking mad, inspiring him to immediately pull you into a heated kiss before you could even say ‘hello’. You responded immediately, returning the kiss with fervor as you gripped his hips, as if the two of you hadn’t just seen each other a couple of hours ago when he dropped you off with a kiss just as harsh as this one.

It was forever before you finally managed to pull away and huff, “Hi there.”

“Hey.” He pressed his lips to yours again, tempted to forget about the picnic and just spend the rest of his life doing this. But again, you deserved to be romanced properly. “Ready to go?”

You were completely giddy when he got you in the car and explained his plan. Roy Kent had planned you a picnic?

It was quite literally a dream come true to sit on a blanket in a park with Roy, sharing a meal, watching the sunset. When he brought out the biscuits, you instinctively held one up to his mouth, blushing when his lips very purposely brushed your fingers in a rather seductive manner.

Once the food was put away, Roy laid down, letting his head rest in your lap, savoring the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair gently. If he could stay like this forever, he’d probably be a lot less grumpy. Already you made the imaginary black cloud that often hovered over him seem far away.

Your mobile pinged, interrupting the absolute bliss the two of you shared. You read it to yourself with an amused hum.

“My sister’s mad at you.” Your matter-of-fact tone caught Roy off-guard.

Roy rolled his eyes. “Oh, tell Lauren to get over it. If anything, she should be pissed at her fucking husband for being his usual prickish self.”

You shook your head. “Not Lauren. Jen.”

“Why the fuck is Jen mad at me?” Your older sister adored Roy; what could he have done to change that?

A smile played on your lips. “She owes Paul thirty quid. He’d bet that you’d hit Jim by the end of the weekend.”

Roy snorted, immediately relieved and amused. “Well, that was a stupid fucking bet.” He reached out for one of your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I’m shocked I made it to the reception without punching that twat.”

“Yeah, I was kind of impressed you resisted for so long.” Your free hand resumed stroking Roy’s hair, resisting the urge to grab a fistful and tug, the way you had last night; you liked the sounds that particular move prompted to spill out of Roy’s mouth.

He gazed up at you, completely unaware of the dirty thoughts running through your mind. His own thoughts were somewhere completely different. “Got a friendly next weekend.” He pressed a light kiss to the hand he held. “You’ll be there?”

Your heart was full. Going to a match as Roy Kent’s girl? Your sixteen-year-old self would be screaming her head off. Instead, you decided to tease him a bit. “I’ll be there. I’m sure I have a Jamie Tartt kit lying around somewhere.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed, although the corners of his lips tugged upwards. “Oi. Don’t you dare wear another man’s name. Unless you want me to start punching again. I have no fucking problem knocking Tartt’s teeth out.”

Something about his growling voice and threatening words, along with the playful intensity of his gaze, had a fiery feeling starting in your tummy. “That’s kind of tempting,” you murmured. You couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty at the way aggressive Roy kind of turned you on.

You also felt a bit embarrassed at how obvious it was. “Should we go ahead and clean up?” He raised his thick eyebrows at you. “Could head back to my place if you want. Put on a movie.” He pressed a deep kiss to the palm of your hand. “And not watch it.”

“Roy Kent,” you gasped dramatically. “You are quite forward.”

He shrugged, sitting up. “Just have a lot of lost time to make up for.” With that, he pulled you close, pressing yet another kiss to your lips, promising to never waste another moment.

[bellewintersroe]

Sebastian Vettel x RBDesignEngineer Reader.

Set in 2013 during the GP, Jennifer is fresh out of uni and has made a name for herself within the F1 world. She joins Redbull-Renault as one of their engineer designers and easily fits into the team, forming friendships easily. Most of all, she captures the attention of three time world champion, Sebastian Vettel.

Part 2 - here the LINK to part 1. Warning: Jen’s bf is a controlling, toxic ASSHOLE, so mentions of abuse that may be triggering to some. Bf is a dick bcs the angst is fun to write- Seb takes an instant dislike to her bf because he just has a good eye for evil people 😈 let’s just say Sebastian slays her bday whilst her bf… is a flop.

Australia, Albert Park, March 17th. “-And I told them, you gotta look out for Sebastian’s tires, but nobody wanted to listen to me!” I explained, leaning over to speak directly into the drivers ear over the loud club music. Our first race in Australian with the RB9 went relatively good apart from a good teething issues. Teething issues that I did point out but the mechanics were happy with the tires that brought Sebastian down from pole to 3rd- still not a bad result.

“Next time, I am listening to you.” Seb slipped an arm over the back of the booth, behind me, the comment and smile he flashed me sending a rush of warmth through my chest. With Dutch courage I was able to chatter freely to Sebastian. “Well, I’m not really a mechanic.” I shrugged. “Hm?” He leaned in a little closer. My breath hitched, scanning over his face as the tipsy man leant against me slightly. “I just said, I’m not really a mechanic…” I gently spoke, eyes falling to the small gap between us. Feeling a little tense, my eyes roamed around the room, suddenly catching a glimpse of a tall, dark haired man ahead of me. The warmth that once spread through my chest was ignited into an uncomfortably hot fire. It raged deep inside of me, the sensations of panic, guilt, comfort all hitting me at once. It was my boyfriend. All the way from England. An odd sickness knocked me still, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. “Luke!” I borderline choked out, feeling Sebastian pull back slightly, eyeing up the figure with an awkwardly dirty expression. I cringed instantaneously.

“Who is that?” Sebastian questioned jusf as I was pushing myself out of the booth. “My boyfriend.” I was just as shocked, if not more than everybody else seemed to be. It wasn’t that I acted single around here, I just never told anybody about Luke, my anxieties and uncomfortable sensation that surrounded the topic was no exception in the current moment. “Hi!” I breathlessly walked over, halting in front of him. “What’re you not gonna give me a kiss? C’mere.” He pulled me, as I tripped forwards, feeling his lips on mine. The sensation felt foreign, it had been over 2 weeks since I’d last seen him, I hoped with the distance came separation- but Luke was insistent that if I took this job he would follow me. Yes- follow me.

“Oh, you’ve still got that shit on your lips.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as I stared at him, forcing a smile. It was weird, I felt nothing, nothing but a slight fear seeing the bottle of alcohol clutching in his left hand. I already had the breakup rehearsed so perfectly in my mind, ready for my next venture home. The same breakup I’d attempted four times over in a mere six months out of the eighteen we had spent together. “Sorry.” I awkwardly spoke, not loud enough so he could hear me. When he turned to the rest of my friends sat around I felt a pang in my chest knowing what he was expecting.

“This is Luke, um, here’s Christian- you know Christian, Molly, James, oh there’s Manny, that there is Sebastian-”

“Yeah, I know who Sebastian is, hun.” Luke nudged me off as a joke as I now sat across from where I previously was, unable to meet anybody’s eye. “Oh, you never mentioned a boyfriend, Jen!!” James exclaimed. “Oh, you didn’t?” There came that passive aggressive laugh from Luke’s clenched jaw. I mentally swore as James’ word. I knew he didn’t mean it to sound so bad, but I just knew there’d be an argument later that night. Across from me, I watched Sebastian’s eyes narrow towards the man before he seemed to shake it off and sip from his own drink. It was only a brief glance, sparingly looking at Luke. Maybe I was just being dramatic, but he didn’t seem too happy. And when he looked at me, he just looked purely confused. That’s pretty how much it went for the rest of the evening, Luke’s anger was becoming more and more noticeable until we got inside the hotel room. To our left, was Sebastian, and to our right was a poor Hannah, RedBull’s Senior Strategy Engineer.

I was silent when the bedroom door closed, Luke stumbled straight to the hallway, spinning around to me and spitting when the door was shut. “Yeah now you’re being so quiet, hardly happy to see me after three weeks, are you?” “I was just shocked.” I stumbled, placing my bag on the side. “It’s your birthday next week, why wouldn’t I be here?!” He snapped. “I said I was just shocked, that’s all.” I repeated, reaching over for my makeup wipes. “Don’t bother wearing all that shit on your lips next time, looks stupid anyway.”

“Luke!” I exclaimed in shock as he blew me off, stripping off his shirt and dropping himself into bed. “You and I both know why you’re wearing it.”

“Because I like it.” I defended, harshly ripping an wipe out of the packet. “I don’t… I know the other men do though.”

“Oh my god, don’t start this…” I felt borderline defeated already, standing like a lemon as I wanted to plead with the drunk to shut up. “Yeah, oh my god!” He shot back up out of bed, still jean classed. “You never fucking said how many men you were working with, now you’re dressing like this, acting like this! You don’t even tell them you have a fucking boyfriend!”

“Please be quiet, everybody’s next door-” “You think I give a fuck who’s next door?!” He hissed back as I sighed, hurrying to make my way to the bathroom. I locked myself in, feeling and hearing him slam on the door in response. I could hear the heaviness of his angered breathing from the other side of the wood. I hated when he got this intense and riled up, it struck a fear inside me then I figured it was just better to shut up rather than ignite his anger further.

“You’re the only one who gives a fuck, Jennifer! Nobody else! None of these people give a shit about you either! What, after three months you think they want to be friends with you?!” I felt complete and utter humiliation as he yelled away, I knew these hotel rooms weren’t soundproof, the thought of everybody knowing we were having a domestic after one night felt humiliating and damaging- never mind his words that hit a sensitive part deep inside of me. “A world champion, F1, fucking celebrity, wanting to be friends with you. You’re fucking kidding me, Jennifer. Get a fucking life!” That night I slept in the bathroom. It sounded absolutely pathetic, I know it was, but it was the reality of being with Luke. It’s like now he was back I felt this odd attachment to him, like without him I’d be lonely and he was my crutch to this whole world. Pathetic, again. I knew, but I couldn’t control it. I missed the separation I once had from him, and when my birthday rolled around the week after he was still there, this time, in a different country, Malaysia.

“Happy birthday! Happy, happy birthday, why didn’t you say it was your birthday?!” An all so familiar voice walked in through to where I was seated in front of my computers, I audibly gasped, feeling arms wrap around my front. It was Sebastian. “Oh!” My hands flew up to the warmth of his skin, his hands gentle as he gave me a light squeeze into his chest.

“I- thank you!” I laughed, feeling him glance over my side to give me the most adoring smile. “23?” “22. I accidentally told the camera guy the other day I was already 22.” I winced as he laughed, arm sliding off me. “No need to keep your birthday a secret though?!” Seb stood up straighter as I pushed my head phones off, gazing up to him with that fluttering feeling lingering in my chest. “I know… how did you know it was my birthday?”

“I know everything. You’ll be here until 4, right?” “5 tonight.” “Perfect.” “Why?” “Just perfect.” god knows what he meant, he was back and fourth all day, working out, chatting, checking out his car, tyres, eating, chatting some more, getting back to work and meetings. Eventually I’d wondered if nothing was to come at all from our brief conversation, it wasn’t like I expected anything, but I was just confused.

“Your boyfriend treat you to anything nice?” Hannah perked a brow, offering me an oddly knowing look. I knew she’d heard our argument back in Australia, I could tell by the way she’d look at me the next morning, ask if I was okay- I didn’t continue any further discussion about it with her.

“Yeah!” I took a deep inhale, pushing one headphone off. “Yeah.” I responded again, gathering my thoughts. Correction- lies. “What’s he got?” She responded as I awkwardly laughed, letting out a gentle exhale through my nose.

“He’s not given me it yet.” I defended, biting down on my lip and returning my attention back to my computer. My teeth were gritted together and my leg began to bounce uncomfortably from under the desk.

“He’s not got you anything has he?” She honestly spoke as I cleared my throat. “No.” The urge to get upset was creeping up on me.

“What? Did you say your boyfriends got you nothing?” This time, an Australian accent approached, Mark Webber was there, brows furrowed. “Ah- not yet.” I forced a laugh. “Well it’s a good thing we’re all-”

“Happy birthday to you…” Oh my god… “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Jeeeeeen, happy birthday to you!” I gasped in complete and utter ecstasy seeing everybody gathering, singing happy birthday. At either side of the cake stood Christian and Sebastian (of course) with a huge 22 in pink fondant spread across the cake. My heart swelled and lips immediately lifted, I almost felt tears fill my eyes as I perched on the edge of my seat, blowing out the 22 candles lit across the cake. Nobody had ever done anything like that for me before, ever… and the mastermind behind it all?? Sebastian Vettel.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, for today!” I practically threw my arms around the German man. He audibly giggled into my embrace, leaning down to kiss my cheek as I laughed, slightly tipsy from the few glasses of champagne I’d been fed. Christian told me to ‘fuck off work’ and the lot of them all enjoyed a few drinks with me. “You deserve a good birthday, everybody does, no?”

“I know but… I just didn’t expect it today, I appreciate it, thank you.”

“I would’ve gotten you a present if I knew sooner, but… hopefully your boyfriend treats you with something good.” He honestly spoke as I felt my heart pang. A sad kinda laugh escaped my lips as Sebastian cocked his head to the side with a confused expression.

“What’s funny?” “Nothing, really, just… I don’t think anything can top all that today, thank you again.” I smiled as he nodded back to me, lips stretched. He reached out, rubbing my upper back before we headed back to our rooms.

“Oh and Jen?” “Yeah?” “If he shouts at you on your birthday, I’ll come barging in…”

[gallus-rising]

UGGGGH FINE. Give me your best mouth washing pitch I’m intrigued

OH BOY ok i'll try my best. this is kinda rambly and all over the place. i'm trying very hard not to spoil

first off here's the game blurb

The five crew members of the Tulpar are stranded in the empty reaches of space, shrouded in perpetual sunset. God is not watching.

and here's the top review on Steam which i think captures the Vibes really well

This feels like a trolley problem but there is no lever and there is no alternate track. you are simply watching a group of people suffer

game is first person PSX psychological horror in space, and i mean some real psychological horror shit. Pony Express long haul ship Tulpar gets stranded in space after an act of sabotage. you will run out of food several months before air. no one is coming. you bonce back and forth between Jimmy, co-pilot suddenly turned leader after a devastating ship failure, and Curly, former pilot turned crispy meat man after a devastating ship failure. the psycho-sexual tension between them is radical

the reason the game is called Mouthwashing is because it's revealed early on that the ship's highly important cargo? the thing you are under absolutely no circumstances to touch? something that needs a full 5 man crew monitoring it 'round the clock for a full year?? mouthwash. tons and tons and tons of mouthwash. this is the only thing the crew has to possibly supplement their diet, which i feel like really sets the tone. from there things go from bad to worse to worse to catastrophe to worse. just. the whole domino effect of how things collapse is one of the best i've ever seen

the characters aren't bad people (mostly >.>), they're just perfectly normal dudes just trying their best. the game then goes on to show what happens when a group of perfectly normal dudes are pushed to the absolute brink. what if you were trapped in an elevator with your coworkers who you only vaguely get along with. hell is other people. but also hell is yourself and how you're treating those other people. also i can't call them out for obvious spoiler reasons but multiple instances of characters just causally dropping a line that had me like. "oh. oh shit. OOOOOHHHH SHIT!!!!!" love it when something like that happens

people smarter than me are dissecting the Imagery and Symbolism in the game like crazy holy shit

ok i think that's as much plot stuff as i can get into without major spoilers (tho since i'm Mouthwashing Posting non-stop everyone here has already seen plenty of spoilers lol, but i feel like this game has a lot of stuff that makes fuck all sense outta context) ok gameplay stuff now

for reasons i'd need an entire separate post to explain Mouthwashing is the sort of story that can only be told via a video game. there's a lot of unique things about video games as a media that people are only really starting to dig into, so if you're even a little interested in that i recommend checking out the game on that alone. the story is told non-linearly to excellent effect, and if you're looking for some good unreliable narrator?? OH BOY!!!! 👌👌 i know the term "walking simulator" is typically used derogatorily but i fucking love a good walking sim. it is really, really hard to pull off a horror walking sim imo given the genre is sorta chill by nature, so that's also a feat of it's own. you are watching people suffer, you are undergoing suffering. it is a game that feels like it actively hates you for playing it because by playing it you have let all this happen

the game is about 2-and-a-half hours, only like 13$ on Steam, and will probably go on sale for Halloween. if you wanna watch a playthru tho (like how i discovered it lol) i highly rec Vinny Vinesauce's 👌

hhng i hope this is a suitable pitch and sorry for the ramble orz

[I HOPE IT HURTS]

this game is heavy so if needed spoiler/trigger warnings for:

as graphic violence as you can get with PSX graphics, alcoholism, starvation, some proper fucked up cannibalism, suicide, murder, referenced sexual assault, scopophbia, and the general hopelessness/claustrophobia/agoraphobia/sanity slippage you would expect from a space horror. all subject are handled tastefully imo. but yeah. it's a lot. if any of that seems like it'd be too much but you're still interested def give the playthru a shot

[shoukiko]

NEVER EVER HEARD OF OR SEEN YOU BEFORE BUT PLEASE DO. I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHAT YA GOTTA SAY.

OH BOY AM I GLAD YOU ASKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love all the Godzilla movies, I've seen all of the modern ones made in America, when Minus one was released on streaming services, I raced to find a place to watch it on 😭 "

Godzilla: Minus One Review (SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!)

I'm gonna do Pros and Cons, First the Pros

Godzilla's Design

Holy moly this design, I love all the Godzilla's with a few exceptions (Son of Godzilla), but this one is just WOW.

The way his dorsal plates can retract and also pop out of his skin was such a unique touch that I really appreciated. Also the way they animated him, very different from the other movies, He seems terrifying and just like an apex predator.

Plot line

Dude this movie had me on the edge of my seat. 5 minutes into the movie and we see Godzilla already??? Thank you so much??? I love you???? And we can even tell that it's a very small Godzilla, not fully evolved but still terrifying, I loved the idea of him being able to grow stronger and evolve.

It follows Shiki's story and his battle with PTSD and the guilt of those mens deaths and the guilt of being the only Kamikaze pilot that is alive.

The ending made me cry, but then that one scene where we find out Noriko is alive, which I thought was like INSANE!!!!!!!

10/10 Story, So fucking good, I will be rewatching this movie ( already have at the time of writing this)

Characters

Shiki himself is a great main character, but the side characters really bring me in tbh

Yuki Yamada being one of my favorite actors really sold the deal on Shiro's character for me, he is such a goofball and I can feel his passionate soul throught the screen lol.

Akiko and Noriko are genuinely lovely to watch, Noriko is a perfect mother despite the circumstances.

ALSO YOJI????? HELLO SAILOR!!!!!!

Sound Design

Holy shit it felt like I was THERE

The loud bangs followed by ear piercing silence that starts to come up to the surface but still somehow sound so far away, only for it to hit you like a punch in the face

Hearing one of the characters absolutely SCREAM his lungs out in pain while other noises begin to drown him out

I want to marry who directed the sound in this movie

Other things I'm too lazy to seperate into other categories

Very Anti-War which slayssss

End scene where Godzilla isn't actually dead, great twist

The atomic breath reveal (Chefs kiss man holy shit)

The CGI is one of the best I've seen, they were able to capture so many scenes perfectly. Also Godzilla's expressions, that shit made me so giddy.

OH YEA

ALSO

EVEN WITHOUT GODZILLA

THIS SHIT FUCKING EATS

IT WOULD BE SO GOOD

HE JUST ADDED SO MUCH MORE TO IT

Becuase in the others Godzilla has a purpose

He is driven by something and helps humanity

but in this one he's just an apex predator

Something that felt thratened and felt like he was losing his alpha status

like an actual animal

so he just destroys everything

mm mm mm yummers

CONS

It ended

I wanted to see more Dino like Godzilla

Okay rant over thank you!

[sajirah]

Reaching out to express my appreciation for you as we approach the new year - your writing has brought me so much joy in 2024 and I really feel so lucky I discovered your writing after finishing ACOTAR. <3 I'm so obsessed with your Feysand stories, especially Rhys omg. The way he's ALWAYS an utter simp for Feyre is like ruining men for me - whether he's posessive dark Rhys or charismatic husband material. Would you be willing to rec some of your favorite romances? (They can be super dark, Come Away O Human Child is like my fave of yours - though Let Us Cling Together As The Years Go By, We Just Have To Face It and Take Care of Business for Me are SO GOOD too!!! Even unfinished!!!) I think you mentioned a pirate fic in one of your comments a while back?. Not that I'm complaining about spending my days rereading your fics and refreshing ao3 to see if you've posted a new chapter - time very well spent, not regrets! BUT I feel like we have the same taste in reading material so would love to find out!

ANON!!! 😭🥺❤️🥰🥹❤️💛💚💙💜

You just made my day! My week!! I am so flattered and happy that you enjoy my fics so much! Especially since I've really only been writing for the first time in years just this past year.

Oh man, I have so many recs but let me see if I can narrow them down a bit. Sorry, this might run a little long.

Lyonesse trilogy by Sierra Simone

A modern re-telling of the myth of Tristan and Isolde. But with kinky sex, threesomes, and spy shit.

Looking for some of the hottest books you'll ever read? Do you love angst? Pining? Kinky sex? Mess? Hate love triangles but love a ménage à trois (aka everyone fucks)? What about hot but morally complex doms? Golden retriever simps? Complicated female characters? Well boy do I have the book series for you!

The first and second books (Salt Kiss and Honey Cut) were my favorite books of 2023 and 2024 respectively. By a lot. Book three comes out in a couple months and I AM RABID FOR IT.

2. The Four Horsemen quartet by Laura Thalassa

The world is ending and the Four Horsemen have come to bring an end to humanity...unless they're given a reason not to.

These books surprised me. I went in thinking they'd be trashy apocalyptic romances. And they are. But they're the kind of trashy, tropey romances that hit all the right spots. Enemies-to-lovers? We got that. Mortal/immortal romance? We got that too. Angst? We definitely have that. A man who will literally kill anyone who hurts his one true love? We absolutely have that. These books made me cry. Like three times. But it hurt so good.

3. Sea of Ruin by Pam Godwin

A female pirate finds herself drawn between her dashing ex-husband and the cold and calculating English Naval Captain who seeks to capture her. Who will win? (The answer is both. This is another ménage à trois book) aka the Pirate Book you asked about.

I do have to warn you that this book has some triggers (namely rape and non-con). For me, this was a delightful fun historical romp but for others it could be upsetting. So fair warning.

4. Love Theoretically by Ali Hazelwood

While applying to a new position, a scientist finds herself at odds with the brother of the man she is fake dating.

My girl Ali! I've been a Reylo for quite a few years now and remember when Ali was still writing Reylo fanfic. It was a joy to see her blow up as a best-selling author but even more exciting to finally see some new material from her that wasn't based on one of her fics! This is one of those books. Easily my favorite of all her published works.

5. The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

The story of a marriage between a man forced to travel through time and the woman who loves him.

Since you mentioned you're enjoying Let Us Cling Together As The Years Go By, how about the book that inspired it?

I read this book when I was a teenager, shortly after it first came out, and it was a revelation for me. I don't think I had ever really read a proper literary romance before that point. It was fascinating. Not just the plot device (the time travel), but the way the relationship between these two characters was woven and the very real, very gritty ups and downs of their marriage. Not to mention the prose itself is beautiful. Highly recommend.

6. Land of the Beautiful Dead by R. Lee Smith

A woman seeks out the god of the dead to plead with him to end the apocalypse...at any cost.

And last, but certainly not least, my favorite romance of all time? It's this book. The big daddy of all romances for me, made specifically with my tastes in mind. And I really do mean that. It's problematic. It's weird (the love interest is a corpse...and not a sexy one). It's full of triggers (a lot of them). It's angsty. It will rip your heart out of your chest and then stomp on it for good measure...and it is also the best love story I've ever read.

15/10. Perfect book. I was left sobbing into my pillow at 2 am when I finished it. I still think about that last scene almost daily.

I hope these are what you're looking for! Feel free to hit me up again if you need more! 💜

[double-detonation]

Double Detonation Chapter 4

Using my quirk at my feet, I accelerated forward faster than I ever thought possible, screaming, "Katsuki!" I caught him before he could land face-first on the concrete. I sat on my knees, holding him up in a sitting position while he coughed up some gunk. I cringed at the sight, patting his back gently. I didn’t really know what to say, my body was shaking as pros closed in on us. Katsuki groaned and turned his head to look at me, a small smirk forming. I looked confused as he spoke, his voice a bit rough from the near suffocation he just endured. “T-told you, th-at, you could move faster.” I frowned in annoyance. “ARE YOU SERIOUSLY JOKING AROUND RIGHT NOW!” I shouted, smacking him gently on the back of his head. He hissed. “Oi, what the hell woman!”

The pro heroes start praising my brother’s quirk for the sheer power he showed when he was captured. No, please, stop encouraging him. His ego is already big enough as it is. I groaned to myself. I looked over, hoping to spot Midoriya. Once I spotted him, I got up and walked over to him, frowning at his expression. “You moron, do you have a death wish!” The walking twig shouted at him. OH HELL NAW. I quickly moved my way over. “There was absolutely no reason to-” I pushed the man with white hair to the side, standing in front of Izuku. I crossed my arms and glared at both of them.

“I don’t fucking think so. There is NO way in hell I’m going to let you talk to Izuku like that!” I growled, looking back at Midoriya with a small smile before scowling back at the two men. “He was the only fucking person who tried to help my brother in there!” I spat. “You should be ashamed of yourselves! You both are heroes. You should be setting an example rather than chastising someone who acted more like a hero than you lot today!” I finished, turning back to Midoriya, seeing him standing and fiddling with his fingers with a small blush on his cheeks.

I walked over to Midoriya, giving him a gentle hug. “Thank you Izuku, I owe ya one, okay?” I smiled at him, causing his blush to deepen, turning him into a human strawberry. “I-I didn't really do anything m-major, it's okay! You d-don't owe m-me anything!” He stutters, waving his hands around nervously. I chuckle softly at his antics. “Seriously though, if you need something, just call me.” I waved him goodbye, heading back towards my brother.

“C'mom, let's go home ‘Suki,” I said, starting the walk home. Katsuki looks at Midoriya with a fierce glare before following.

It has been about a week and a half since the incident. Also, the same amount of time when I decided I was going to fully train my quirk and my body like I was supposed to. The feeling of not being able to do anything when someone I loved was suffering…never again. I started using my allowance money to pay for a gym membership. I purposely chose one that was an hour away so I could get in a good run every other day. I didn't really work out in my past life due to health issues, but damn it felt nice being able to run without dying from exhaustion. 

My favorite part of the gym has to be the rock climbing course. I can't just go around parkouring things without getting into trouble, but here, I can do it as much as I want. Though the adults watching get mad at me if I try to do stupid shit, joy killers. I try to improve my time on the course every time I come but sometimes I rush a bit too much and fall, ruining the run. Speak of the devil. “Ahh shit!” I yelled as I missed my footing, and fell on the floor padding. “Damn it!” I shouted in frustration. Knew I should have gone for the closer stone. “That could have been my best time yet,” I grumbled into my hands.  

“Woah, dude you good? You fell from the top level.” A guy's voice spoke. A hand reached out towards me.

Hearing a voice next to me, I looked up towards them. My eyes widened at this guy's very familiar appearance. Crimson hair and eyes…oh shit. “O-oh um, yeah I'm good,” I replied, taking his hand. He pulls me up, giving me his signature toothy grin. “That's good, even with the padding it can be easy to sprain your ankle or something.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. Shit, am I seriously meeting one of my favorite comfort characters in person…BEFORE I EVEN ATTEND UA! Kazumi panic mode has been initiated, requesting backup.

I chuckled nervously, starting to pick at the skin on one of my arms subconsciously. “A-ah yeah, that would have sucked, my name's Bakugou K-Kazumi.” I stuttered, offering a slightly shaky hand to greet him properly. God damn it nerves, stop it, you're fine! I swear his eyes fucking sparkled at the gesture. Ugh, why is he such a fucking cinnamon roll in real life too!

“Sweet! I'm Kirishima Ejirirou. Are you new here? I haven't seen you at this gym until recently.”

Recently!? He's fucking been here and I haven't noticed! “N-no I'm not, I don't live near here, I live about an hour or so away. I just use this gym as an excuse to make me run.” I explained. 

Kirishima looked a bit shocked. “You run here for an hour!? Do you also run home?”

“Yup, though I don't go to the gym every day.” I'm too damn lazy to do that.

“Damn dude, I'd be too exhausted afterward to go running home, and I live nearby, respect man!” Kirishima laughs wholeheartedly with his sharp teeth showing, making me smile softly. “When do you normally leave?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Eh, about 7:30. Gives me enough time to be home before curfew.”

Kirishima looks excited for a moment before calming himself down. “Would ya by any chance want to spar some? I- haven't really got many friends that would be willing to go to the gym with me- it's okay if that's a no tho!”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket for a second to check the time. I still have about an hour before I have to leave. I shrug, shoving the phone back down. “Sure why not.”

I regret agreeing to this.

I thought I was getting better at hand-to-hand combat fighting Katsuki. But God, he was kicking my ass, and that was without his quirk. Kirishima sent a quick, and hard kick to my side, making me kneel down, gasping for breath. I was on the floor panting, fuck. I almost wonder if Katsuki has been holding out on me, but I know he wouldn't do that. Fucker is too prideful to not go full strength. I held my hand up to signal a stop. “J-Jesus Christ red, what are you made out of.”

“S-sorry didn't mean for it to hurt that much.” He laughed nervously as he helped me up. “I got thick skin, even without my quirk.” 

I already knew what it was, but if I was going to build any friendships with anyone, I can't just be some weirdo who knows almost everything about them right away. “If you don't mind me asking, what's your quirk?” I asked gingerly, knowing it was a rather sensitive topic for him.

“Eh..my quirk is Hardening.” He replied with a voice that was a bit solemn, holding out his arm, turning the skin into a rock-like texture. “It's not very flashy but I'm aiming for the hero course of UA, which is why I'm here training.” He said, looking at me. “What about you?”

I frowned at his tone. Poor baby needs to build more confidence. “Mine is called Explosion. As the name suggests, I can make explosions with my hands and feet using my sweat.” Kazumi explained. “I would show you but…I would rather not accidentally blow anything up right now, sorry.”

“It's all good man, but I definitely want to see it one day, it must be pretty flashy if it's explosive!” Kirishima exclaims, his eyes widening slightly. “Oh shoot!” He pulled his phone out, unlocking the screen to the contact list page. “Mind if we swap numbers since you live far away? I'd love to keep in touch.” He asks, handing me his phone.

My face lights up at the thought as I make a new contact. I click the camera button, taking a quick selfie before typing in my phone number. This is exciting! The only people I have on my phone are my family and Midoriya. I finish up the information and hand the device back. “Text me and I'll save the number,” I said as I picked up my backpack. Kirishima and I walk towards the exit, the sliding glass doors open and we step onto the sidewalk.

“Bet, it was nice meeting you Bakugou!” Kirishima smiled, waving me goodbye as I walked off. I nodded, lazily raising my arm to wave it. “Yeah, you too,” I said, stepping up the pace into a sprint as I headed home.

I huffed as I made my way through the door. Hearing a notification from my phone, I threw myself on the living room couch and dug out my phone from my pocket. “Hey, it’s Kirishima! Thanks for the great day!” I smiled widely, instantly typing him back. “No problem man, I had fun even if you were kicking my ass.” I sent a message back with a laughing emoji. What I didn’t realize was that Katsuki heard me coming home and that he was currently behind me, watching.

“What the fuck, since when did you use emojis, and why are you smiling so goddamn much.” He demanded, throwing so many questions at me unexpectedly. Hearing his voice, I jumped, closing my phone with a slight blush. “N-none of your business! Stop stalking me!” I shouted.

Katsuki narrows his gaze at me, a shit-eating grin forming. “OLD HAG, KAZUMI HAS A BOYFRIEND.” I jumped again at the volume, my eyes widening. “Katsuki!” I yelled, jumping over the sofa to tackle him to the floor. A woman's voice from the floor above shouted. 

“WHAT!?”

Ending note: Hey everyone, sorry that this chapter took a bit longer to write than the others. I took a bit of a break last week since I was a bit tired from work and didn't have the motivation to write. I did start, but I never finished and I hated it for a while because I was unsure of what I wanted to do for it. I figured it out tho so I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!

[little-ars0n]

Trapped Together – Part 2

A Kaine x Miguel fanfic

(sfw)

The Spider-Society — Cafeteria

Peter and Ben were sitting on a table, both eating those weird looking burgers with Miguel's face on it, but by the way they were eating it, it seemed to taste really good. Ben was focused on the burger, but Peter had a weird expression, like he was thinking a lot about something. "Hey Ben... correct me if i'm wrong but, did you noticed something weird between Kaine and Miguel back in the museum? " Ben looked at Peter and rised an eyebrow, holding the burger with one hand. "Uhh like them hating eachother?, yeah it was pretty noticeable." Ben took a bite of the burger with a carefree look. "Not that dumbass. It was like... something else." Ben placed the burger back to the plate, now he was interested. "Like what? " "I don't know, the way they were so close to eachother when we found them..." "Uh yeah, they were tied up. Are you saying there's something between them? " Ben leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, judging Peter with his gaze. Peter shrugged. "I-I'm not saying that!, i don't know man. I'm just telling ya', i felt it kinda weird." "You're being delusional." "Maybe." "Besides, they HATE eachother, Peter. They can't stand spending time together... and they're straight." "I told you i didn't mean it that way! " "Yeah, yeah." They dropped the topic and continued having lunch, talking about things from the last missions.

Meanwhile, Miguel was in his workroom, looking at all the numerous holographic displays in front of him. Although he seemed focused on what he was doing, inside his mind was wandering about what happened earlier in the museum. His mind just couldn't forget that moment with Kaine, having him face to face, feeling his heavy breathing, his pecs pressed against his own... "Miguel... Miguel... MIGUEL!!! " Lyla had been trying to get Miguel's attention for at least two minutes. Miguel jumped a little and blinked several times, dismayed. "Ah-... what? " "The reports about the last mission. The Vulture you captured on Earth-616 has been sent back to its universe." "Oh... right. Thanks." "Is everything okay? " "Yes, Lyla." "Are you sure?, you've been acting kinda weird sinc-" "I'm okay, stop insisting." Lyla stayed silent and left Miguel alone with his thoughts. He didn't understand, why couldn't he get it out of his head? Everytime he thought about that specific moment he felt like his cheeks... ah, shit.

Miguel touched his cheek, only to realize that his face was burning, and not exactly from fever. He frowned in annoyance and tried to concentrate on work. It was stupid, he would probably forget about it after a while... right?

Earth-616 • Texas – The Four Seasons

Kaine was sitting on the couch, holding the watch Miguel gave him. He analyzed it carefully. It wasn't the first time he used one of those, but he wondered: why did Miguel gave it to him? He always believed that he hated him, well, they both hate eachother, but why the sudden change?... does it have to do with what happened at the museum?

He started to think... the way Miguel forgot about the cobwebs to help him, his deep but calm voice guiding him patiently, the way he could feel his penetrating gaze on him, he always had that tendency to maintain eye contact?- "What are you doing? " Aracely suddenly looked over to see Kaine with a smile. Kaine, on the other hand, was so deep in thought that Aracely's sudden appearance surprised him, making him jump a little... huh, deja vu. "Shit- Aracely what the fuck." "Oooh what's that? " Aracely tried to grab the watch from Kaine's hands, but the spider was faster and pushed the teenager away from the device. "That is none of your business." "Oww come on!!, i just want to see it! " "You can see it with the eyes, not with the hands." "Where did you found it? " "I-..." "Or did someone gave it to you? " From Kaine's expression Aracely could tell that he hadn't found the watch somewhere, no, someone had to have given it to him. Aracely narrowed her eyes and gave a mocking smile. "Who gave it to you?, your girlfrieeenddd?..~" She said to annoy him, so Kaine rolled his eyes and got up from the couch. "I'm taking a nap." "Oooh look at you, you're red!! " "No i'm not. Stop bothering or i won't order more ice cream." Aracely puffed out her cheeks a little and watched as Kaine locked himself in his room. "... CAN I USE THE WATCH? " She screamed for Kaine to hear her on the other side of the door. "NO." Aracely sighed heavily and stayed bored on the couch, watching TV.

Kaine, finally being alone, looked in the mirror, and just as Aracely said, he had a blush on his cheeks. He frowned and grunted in annoyance, lying on the bed to think. He remembered the numerous times his brothers, especially Peter, would tell him to visit the Spider-Society. Kaine hates teams, but if it's just a simple visit... "(what the fuck are you thinking?, no. I won't go there. I don't want to find him there. ... But he gave you the watch for a reason. Ugh FUCK.) " While Kaine debated whether going was a good idea or not, Aracely was listening to all that internal conversation the man had with himself, after all she was always very nosy. "(who's «him»?...) ". Kaine closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but his mind always brought back memories of the museum. He shook his head and frowned, forcing himself to forget all that. "(stop that. I don't need all that shit. I don't care.)" He said to himself, again, trying to fall asleep. "(i don't care... i don't care... i don't care... i d-)" "KAINE!! " Aracely suddenly opened the door, clearly upset. Kaine opened his eyes in shock and sat down in his place. "CAN YOU STOP WITH THAT?? I CAN'T FOCUS ON THE TV!! IF YOU WANT TO GO SEE YOUR WEIRD LOVER, GO SEE THEM!! " "He's not my-" Before Kaine could finish his sentence, Aracely slammed the door and went back to watching TV. Kaine sighed and stroked his forehead. "... One look shouldn't hurt." He grabbed the watch, which curiously already marked the number of the universe, and opened a portal to the Spider-Society. He sighed and entered into it.

Back to the Spider-Society – Cafeteria

Ben and Peter had already finished their burgers, drinking soda while they chatted. "Uh... i'm gonna bring Miguel some food, i bet he didn't eat." Peter said as he got up from his seat, Ben did the same. "Aight, i'm going to the bathroom real quick." Peter ordered some empanadas (the ones Miguel likes) and headed to Miguel's workplace.

Meanwhile, Kaine appeared inside the headquarters, looking around with clear confusion, how was he going to find Peter among all these spiders? "Kaine!! " He heard a familiar voice calling him, and when he turned around he was hugged by a teenager who was smiling at him. Gwen Stacy. "Gwen?, hey- it's been a long time." Kaine placed a hand on the girl's back and patted her a couple of times. Gwen took a step back and looked up at him. "Sure it was! what are you doing here?, i thought you didn't liked teams." "Sure i don't. I'm looking for my brother, Peter." "Oh- well, the last time i saw him he was heading to Miguel's workroom." "... Great." Although Kaine showed an annoyed expression, it was clear that the main reason for his visit was not Peter. He cannot fool the readers. "I could take you there if you want." "Yeah... that would be nice." Gwen guided Kaine to Miguel's workplace, engaging in a chat about everything they were doing in the time they didn't see each other.

Peter was with Miguel, leaving the cardboard tray with the empanadas on a table. "Hey dude, i brought you empanadas, the ones you like." Miguel was working, as always. He turned his head to look at Peter, a little taken aback by his action. "Oh... thanks. You didn't had to." "Nah it's alright, besides, you-" Peter's spidey sense began to tingle, making him turn towards the door. "... Kaine? " Miguel frowned a little when he heard him, and looked at him confused. "What? " When Miguel looked towards the door, he could see Gwen entering the room, accompanied by Kaine. "(what the hell is he doing here?!)" "Kaine! " Peter was quick to greet Kaine with a handshake. "What are you doing here dude? " "I uh..." Kaine took a quick look at Miguel, and then turned back to Peter. "Came to visit you." Peter was a little surprised, Kaine didn't tend to do that kind of thing. "Uh- really? " "... Yeah." "Well those are good news!, tonight we'll celebrate a spiders birthday and it would be great if you came." "What? " Miguel and Kaine said at the same time, they looked at each other when they realized that. "Yes!, remember, Gwen? " Gwen opened her eyes a little wider as she noticed the three men looking at her. "Uhh- yeah. 616B Peter." "Ah... right." Miguel seemed to have forgotten.

"So... what do you say? " Peter asked with a gentle smile, while looking at Kaine. "Uh..." Kaine looked at Peter, then at Gwen, and then looked for a millisecond at Miguel, returning his gaze to Peter. "Well, i don't want to pressure you. Think about it, okay? " "Sure." Kaine could feel Miguel's gaze on him. "Oh!, i'll go find Ben so he can greet you." "I'll go with you." Both Peter and Gwen walked to the door, and Kaine looked uncomfortable with the idea. "What?, no- wait- Peter, PETER-" Kaine whispered nervously, it wasn't his plan to be alone with Miguel. Peter and Gwen had already left the room by then. "(fuck.)" When he turned to see Miguel, he had his back turned to him, focused on work. Even though Kaine tried to make as little noise as possible, Miguel already knew he was still there. "You came." "Yeah..." There was an awkward silence, at least for Kaine. "So... what's future like?" Miguel chuckled. That was weird. "You don't have to search for conversation topics. I enjoy some silence." "Right. Yes.... me too." Silence, again. Miguel glanced at Kaine, who was looking around curiously. "So... about what happened in the museum..." Yes, Miguel couldn't take it anymore. "Huh?, what happened?" Kaine tried to act cool, as if he wasn't thinking about it all afternoon. "You know... Vulture." "Oh, that... yes. What about it?" "Well... i was wondering if you..." Miguel paused, as if stopping himself from saying something. Kaine looked at him curiously. "... feel better after that." "Oh... yeah. I can breathe better... i think-" "Good." "Yeah." They both remained silent. It was as if they wanted to say something, but they didn't have enough guts. Peter and Gwen finally arrived, accompanied by Ben. When Ben noticed that Peter had left Kaine and Miguel alone, he gave him an uncomfortable look. "Kainee!, what if i give you a little tour?, come on!" Ben saving the day.

Back to Earth-616 – Texas

Hours passed, Kaine was back at the Four Seasons, emerging from a refreshing shower. He changed, dried his long hair, and sat on the bed, sighing. It was already night, and Kaine remembered the birthday party Peter mentioned. He looked at the digital clock on the side of his bed, undecided. "... Fuck it." Determined, he grabbed his jacket and opened a portal back to the Spider-Society.

[makingstrangemaneuvers]

i saw a tiktok the other day (i don't remember who posted it im so sorry!!!!) that posited maybe Eurylachus did it on purpose as a form of suicide. and the more i think about it?????????

because - how ELSE could he get ody to willingly harm/kill him?????? odysseus, the same man who had done unspeakable things and killed his humanity to keep himself and his crew alive and on the path to ithaca????? AS IF his head didn't hang heavy. as if HIS judgement was the one that was warped.

i think everything changed when they saw the prophet. yes ody went through grief and changes and was told he would never make it home (clearly not getting the actual message lol) - which then was the impotus for monster. his cunning was turned way up - "if i become the monster to EVERYONE BUT US then we'll make it home"

THIS WAS WHYYYYYY all the crew didn't get killed when there were sirens!!!!!! ody said oh IM NOT MAKING IT HOME???? fucking bet. everyone fill your ears with beeswax. i know that's not really penelope (brother - if HIS judgement were off he'd have just accepted what the prophet said, that he'd never make it home, and whether aware she was a siren or not, would have taken this "penelope" as like this is as close as i'll ever get bye yall). he THEN got info out of her while pretending he DID believe it was Her!!!! and then he organized his crew to capture them and kill them all once he had his information, and NOT! ONE! MAN!!!!! was lost to the PACK OF SIRENS!!!!!! girllllllll

yes, he sacrificed 6 to Scylla. that obviously is not a Good thing. but?? 6 men vs the remaining 43 (or however many it was at that point) by not avoiding Poseidon???? AND LIKE BRO HOW MANY MORE WOULD HAVE DIED TRYING TO KILL HER - IN! HER OWN!!!! LAIR!!!!!!!!!! i'm?????

like you won't find people willing to jump in (altho maybe eurylachus would have atp - i do think that's part of why he finally told ody about the bag) and of course he couldn't tell everyone that would be the cost. but he also knew it was their only shot.

and about the bag - eurylachus tried to tell ody before the whole circe thing, and ody waved it off (he prob already knew) but there's proof in that song too that eurylachus was at a point where HIS judgement was off. HE was the one desperately fighting ody to LEAVE THE MEN BEHIND. "cut our losses" he said. you're that determined to tuck tail and run????? and of COURSE ody said no - he's responsible for ALL YALL. he didn't just "miss home so painfully bad" that he threw away the lives of the crew. and let's be real - eurylachus knows him better than anyone else and up until the underworld, had a relatively good head on his shoulders. he had to know. he had to!!

so he tells ody about the bag before they meet scylla, maybe hoping that ody would feel so betrayed he'd fight him or w/e, i mean ultimately those 558 deaths are on eurylachus' head (not ody's - he stayed awake for 9 DAYS and was so honestly with yall and what would you even do with treasure in the middle of the fucking ocean bro?????? chill tf out make him show you when you're home omfg) and i'm sure that was also weighing heavily on him. but odysseus loves him, that's his brother. and atp shits bad and he has no room in his heart to lose anyone else close to him - bro you're literally all he has left, you can't even count penelope or telemachus because he hasn't seen them in 20 years and was just told by the prophet that he never would. and he STILL isn't giving up. ody IS the hope on the ship lbr.

so when ody doesn't so much as reprimand him or express pain at this enormous betrayal (that is also THE reason they still hadn't made it home btw), it at least appears on the outside (though we do know that ody knew, he even told eurylachus to light 6 torches for the men who ended up dying) that ody just ran and saved the rest of the crew. but suddenly eurylachus has a PROBLEM with that???

HOW FUCKING MANY WERE TURNED INTO PIGS EURY HUH????? it was YOU who was fighting to abandon THEM. IT IS THE SAME.

so they're out and alive and ody is obviously affected and full of grief. what better time to finally get a rise out of him and make him actually face you???

and then we have Mutiny.

eurylachus, ultimate hypocrite in this moment, accuses odysseus of sacrificing 6 men. again - he probably knew, and could understand why - HOWEVER even if he didn't it makes no sense. HE RAN??? TO SAVE YALL AND THE CREW??? brother how would killing her help?? THE 6 ARE ALREADY DEAD. would you rather he went full speed ahead at her and ruined the ship and yall all were killed or drowned???? nah. and again - FUCKING HYPOCRITE AT BEST.

it's unclear whether the other crew were already on eury's side with this (did he rile them up or did they see and take action because "it's not the same since Polites", either way still lines up for me honestly) but from the chants in the background it's clear that this fight was about to go to ody. he begged eurylachus to not make him do this but still eurylachus spouted shit he clearly didn't believe based on his own past actions and told ody "you've forced my hand".

also - the line "if you want all the power you must carry all the BLAME" is wild. because - either ody kills eurylachus and he gets his wish in dying, without tarnishing his own reputation, OR! eury kills/stops ody and takes over as captain and feels able to transfer all the blame and guilt that he feels for ACTIVELY causing so so so many deaths (and the hopelessness of not making it home so what's the point) onto ody who is now dead. he gets that weight off his shoulders and the support of the crew, and potentially a renewed sense of hope. maybe things WILL be different with eurylachus as captain.

and then the crew steps in and maims ody and ties him up. eury IS now in charge, yes? and they end up at some random island, just like way back with the lotus eaters. still nothing is better. still they're so hungry and everyone is scared. he didn't picture it like this. heavy is the crown and all that. he actually doesn't know what he's doing or how to get home and he's realizing that odysseus was really just doing the best he could on similar knowledge but more cunning and favor of the gods. how is he going to pull this off? he doesn't even know where they are. the prophet SAID they're never getting home. "there is a world where i help you get home but that's not a world i know". eurylachus can't take any more. hunger is so heavy. so is guilt.

ody says no no you don't get it - this is the land of the sun god! you cannot kill his cattle, "who knows what he'll send". literally, use ONE of your brain cells brother, you WILL get us all killed if you do this. it's not worth it! we can make a new plan! (also - why not petition or find the sun god?!?! hello? you want to lead then LEAD) eurylachus is so clearly defeated in this song.

"we're never getting home, you know it's true"

"i'm tired my friend"

"hunger is so heavy"

"i'm just a man"

all the while ody is BEGGING - you don't know that's true!! please don't do this! reconsider! i have to get home!

again - fr ody has Not lied or been wrong about the gods a single time. (like ok yes he was not entirely truthful about Scylla but that's it) i get the first time when they're suddenly at the floating island that belongs to Aeolus (but truly man how many floating islands HAVE you seen?!?! bfr) but atp you are ONLY alive because ody understands these things. you didn't trust him with the wind bag and let's hear just how many men died because of you again???????? EXACTLY. so WHY would you not believe him here? there's genuinely no way. he KNEW ody was right. but he desperately wanted it to all end. his only other chance for a quick (non starvation) death was at the hands of ody and even his hope of that is gone now. so he may as well go down with a good meal.

and then - plot twist yall can't even do that because these cows are immortal.

and interesting how despite this mutiny, despite this "if you want all the power you must carry all the blame), suddenly he IMMEDIATELY turns to ody and says "captain?" as if to be like oh no what's happening pls help us captain get us out of this lead us

GIRL I THOUGHT HE WAS NO LONGER YOUR CAPTAIN????? yall fucking stabbed him and tied him up and then ignored his constant warnings. but NOW, now that there's a problem, suddenly you want his help? suddenly now he's your captain and he must carry this blame too???

and because of who odysseus IS, he does! he immediately starts commanding trying to get yalls asses safely out of there but it's too late.

Zeus?!?!?! he's meant to fight Zeus for yall???? YALL LITERALLY HUST BACKSTABBED HIM AND STILL TURNED AROUND AND BLAMED HIM.

am i saying ody's decision was right? no. i'm also not saying it's wrong. i think it's complex, and i can understand both decisions.

but i cannot stress this enough - eurylachus KNEW this would get him (and the crew, but does he actually care about that atp? who knows tbfh) killed. SO HE DID IT. not "and then he did it anyway" no no HE KNEW IT WOULD GET HIM KILLED SO HE DID IT to end the hunger and the grief and the pain that he couldn't take any more because after all, he's "just a man".

so when ody says i have to see her. and eury says but we'll die. and ody says i know.

it is so much more nuanced than the betrayal it initially reads as.

suicide by mutiny. suicide by stealing from the gods. suicide by an impossible, unfair decision.

maybe the crew felt betrayal and pain at that decision. but eurylachus - regardless of what terror he likely felt at its reality - got what he'd been after for the past chunk of their journey.

eurylachus felt relief.

Canon

[chromatophorium]

Holding onto desperation: project announcement.

I keep holding onto comforts. Projects of fandoms that entertain me and keep me creatively (and sometimes intellectually) engaged. I must lessen their hold, if I want to hold onto desperation. I think. Desperation. Or the feeling of spiting the thing that makes you feel desperate? No. I think desperation isn't a passive feeling. Desperation doesn't equal hopelessness or passiveness. Desperation for something better than what is to come. We all need to hold onto one of those feelings, those that don't let them entertain us to death. For some it is hope in itself, for some it is spite or righteous anger. I think for me the strongest of them might be desperation. Maybe. It feels stronger than the longing for comfort right now, so I need to hold on so that I am not entertained to death.

I need to express and get people to understand what is to come if we don't do things. I need to funnel the energy that I want to spend on crafting stories and world into something that doesn't make passivity in me or others. I need to capture the gaze and engagement and turn that engagement towards the audience themselves. I need to evoke desperation, anger and spite. And that the comfort is not in the hands of the powerful, but by the side of the people down here with you.

Letting go is hard. But I need to let go of my comforts currently. I must, right? They've been preoccupying me. I need it to hold on to desperation. Maybe turn working on this into a comfort/vessel for the energy I spend on my other projects.

Okay. Also. I need to start small. Publish things small. Make it visible while it isn't done and get portraying. Get people seeing. I am going to make it visible. I need to engage people. I need help. Probably.

Okay. so what's it going to be? An original story. Featuring a human and a robot/robot analogy and a relationship and changes and a betrayal. It has to feature a bad ending. Or bitter sweet? Well. an arc has to end badly. Solutions... okay. the solutions isn't the betrayer. but it has to be tempting. But clear that it would only make things worse. Breaking a depending on the tool of the powerful but depending on other people. God this is going to be some angsty shit. Co-dependent, hah. not really. Not really co, but seemingly co. Okay. there is going to be visual art. there is going to be banter. there is going to be memorable designs and character traits. chatchphrases? idk. cahtcphrases are hard to do right. THE META ELEMENT! Oh yeah. Okay. Office like? Yeah. In-world story telling device. creating video content oh. yes. YES. FUCKING YES. Create a mystery too, maybe. as to who they're talikg to/adressing with the content. Oh it also ties into the thing. the abstract work creation on the social medias. FUCK YES. Okay. maybe one more meta element? of like, isekai nature? to convey the comforts. the yearning for comforts. but also totally not fully isekai, more ready player one -ish in set up. Normal world also gotta be engaging, sci-fi but maybe magic system in world? or magic system in world that changes a lot but also allows the second meta narrative? Gotta sort out the genre and setting. Look man. We gotta like. look we need to... okay. we gotta make isekai comforts good but also the potential relationships after betrayal be good too.

Hook. hook. ve gotta get a hook. odd couple can be starting hook-ish. But maybe there is a hook in the setting? I don't know. A magic system hook is often a cool engaging thing? Like, the way it twists the world were familiar with.

eye. eye imagry? yeah. could be cool and thematic.

OKAY. Okay. how do I structure my work thoug. At leat one hour of work on this per day. Put hte alarm ther enow.

SO yeah. this was more of me rambling. So yeah. I think. Maybe. still holding on a bit. Got it's hard. But I need to become obsessed with my own OCs. make them blorbo. and most of all. hold on to desperation. becasue it's coming. the bad stuff is coming. It's creeping in bombastically now.

OOOhoho... we can have a prophecy of doom or something int he setting. nice.

[kithtaehyung]

stay (3tan) (m) | myg

title: stay (the weekend, pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball   rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after almost a whole weekend of misses, you and yoongi finally hit your stride. and after almost a whole year of almosts, you finally capture those moments you’ve been waiting for.  warnings: cursing, choking, protected sex, penetration, more overthinking, fingering, restraints (his hands), cunnilingus, body worship, spanking, cockwarming, his hands yall don’t say i didn’t warn you, breast play, sl*t mentions, light slapping, …a mirror……., a jk appearance..., min yoongi in general, does fluff count as a warning bc i think it rly should lol note: uhh. surprise? >:) happy start of minmarch ig lolol. thank you to my lovelies @sugakookitty​ @yoon2k​ and @joheunsaram​ for being amazing betas as usual and putting up w me !! :’)) and a huge thanks to everyone that’s been encouraging and supportive along the way. this part is the biggest yet and i wanna say so much here but i will refrain. there will just be lots in the author’s note at the end :) and yoongi? screw you for spoiling everyone way too much this time around LMAO note 2: oh! if you haven’t read the rest of the three tangerines series, i highly encourage you to read those before this one! it would make more sense.  drop date: march 2nd, 2022, 7:17pm est  word count: 18.6k!!! HUH..

-

-

What the fuck was that sound?

Yoongi’s already whipping his head on his pillow before he can fully get his eyes open, twisting his body and rushing out of bed. 

His footsteps are fast but his thoughts are faster, turning his mind into mush as he struggles to get full vision on the way to his door.

What the fuck is going on? Better not be a break-in at seven in the fucking morning. No quicker way to set him o—

“—do you keep all your stuff, old man? Can’t find a damn thing.”

Oh.

Shit. 

That’s your voice. 

And you sound like you’re in the kitchen. Which would explain the bang he heard—had to have been a cabinet. 

Yoongi’s hand slips from his doorknob, finger by finger, shoulders relaxing and breath leaving his mouth in a slow exhale. 

Damn. When was the last time he woke up to someone in his place? Apparently it’s been forever because you scared the shit outta him. He forgot you were even there. 

Cracking open his door, he watches as you gather a container from one of his counters before setting it down to grab something else. The face you make is nothing short of adorable as you visibly frown, contemplating a decision. 

That’s his cue to make himself known, but he has to hide his amusement because he visibly spooks you as he says, “Hey.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whoosh out, your hip connecting with some cabinets. Your next sentences come out strained. “I didn’t know when you’d be up. But I made food and it’s damn good, so you better eat it.”

You did what? For him?

“Me?” 

“Yeah! There.” 

Yoongi follows your pointing hand to his table, and that’s when he notices a foiled plate, chest feeling slightly heavier yet lighter at the same time. 

Waking up to someone in his place is one thing. But waking up to someone making him food from his own kitchen? 

That hasn’t happened in years. 

Your voice tugs him out of his temporary stupor. “I figured you don’t really get time to get food, so...”

He doesn’t look your way. Because he can’t at the moment. All he can really do is speak, and even then it’s in monosyllabic spurts. “Shit. Thanks.” 

“I also accept money.”

A laugh leaves his throat before he can hold it in. Your wit is still so damn attractive, he’ll admit that. “A hustler at heart.” 

“Maybe so. Your fault by saying I could use your kitchen, though.”

That’s news to him. Turning to you, he asks with a cocked brow, “I said that?”

“You did,” you reply, expression suddenly wary and a third as confident.

When did he say that? What else did he say? Judging from the way you’re looking at him, he’s assuming you’re waiting for him to ask that out loud or hope he remembers. 

And since he’s blanking, he chooses the latter. “What else did I say?” 

“Uh.” You pause. Are you gonna tell the truth? He was dead tired last night. Honestly, after fucking you, his brain decided to not remember much else. Fuck, he really is getting old. “Not much.”

When will you learn that you can tell him anything? Especially if you’re looking at him like that, like you’re sad he doesn’t remember. 

Because damn, he wishes he does. He really has no fucking clue what happened. “You sure?” 

“Yeah. Just that you didn’t get me food but I could use your kitchen.”

“Mm.” That’s more than he expected but you’re still hiding something. Whatever the hell he said, he had to have meant it. He really wants to know. 

So he’s gonna get it out of you. 

Because he truly wants you to get that you don’t ever have to keep shit from him. If anything, that would bother him more than you telling him the truth. 

From what he does remember from last night, you told him that same exact thing. So why act against that yourself? 

Both of you are so similar.

Walking into his kitchen, he sees your eyes unblinking as you watch him close in, wondering if you’re gonna break easy or not. 

It’s then that he realizes you’re wearing something different than what you wore last night. A simple shirt and sweats, and yet you’re just as attractive as how you looked walking onto the court the other day. 

He wonders if you realize that. You probably have no clue. 

“I think you’re lying,” he mutters after leaning a hand on his counter, blocking you from the one exit you could’ve used. “Are you?” 

Your eyes answer before you do, and more truthfully. “It was nothing.” 

The hell it wasn’t. Your mood shifted way too much and too easily for that to be the case. 

But Yoongi knows that he just needs to be patient with you. Because from the looks of things, it seems like no one else has been. 

Touching your chin, he whispers, “Last night wasn’t nothing, doll.” After watching your eyes flicker and soften, he admits, “I just don’t remember shit after coming.” 

“Oh,” you breathe out, relaxing instantly. 

That’s all you needed.

“You told me to stay.” 

Yoongi stills. 

Not because he wanted you to stay—that was his intention from the start. Why else would he have told you to get your shit before coming over? Why else would he have driven you back to his place? 

He sure as hell wasn’t gonna make you go back home after all that. 

With another thought, Yoongi remembers the reflex he had after you joked that you walked home after driving him back. And what went down on the court the day before. 

Yeah. He wasn’t gonna let that shit happen, jokes or not. Of course he meant for you to stay that late.

He’s just shocked he felt the need to say it out loud. 

A thousand thoughts race through his brain, and he has to blink them all away. Because he can’t think about those right now. Or ever. You’re off-limits. And those thoughts cannot be considered for someone off-limits. 

“I meant it,” is all he can really say, dropping his hand. Because fuck, if he said that without even remembering, he must’ve really wanted to say it. 

But why were you so hesitant to tell him that? 

“Did you not want to?”

“Oh, no no,” you stutter out, like you always do when you’re shy. It’s one of the things he likes about you; you’re almost always confident until coming to terms with what you’re really thinking. “It’s not that. I just heard that you didn’t like people staying.”

That’s true.

“I don’t.” 

“I dunno. I just thought…” You look away, as if you don’t wanna say the rest out loud—again.

But Yoongi will wait. He’ll wait. And wait. 

And wait. 

“I didn’t want you to feel some type of way about it.” 

A half-smile jumps onto his face. Why the hell are you so cute? “Like what?” 

“Like, I dunno, regret it. Or something.” 

He shakes his head, straightening himself to hold back everything he wants to say to you. There’s so much on his mind. But he’ll spare you. “I don’t, doll.” 

“Okay.”

Besides, he’s already gonna be late if he keeps talking to you a bit longer, as much as he fucking wants to. He still needs to get ready. 

Shooting a look at the foiled plate on the table, he turns back to you and wonders, “Did you even sleep?” 

Your expression twists into one of embarrassment. Caught, and adorable. “Not really.” You gather the last pan from his stove before going back to his sink, swiping any lingering grease from it with a napkin before putting it under water. “I took the couch, though. Maybe that’s why.” 

Yoongi can only blink. 

Is he still asleep? What the hell are you doing to him? 

If he truly asked you to stay, he didn’t mean take the fucking couch. 

But you did anyway. 

Because why wouldn’t you? 

“Sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay! I can just nap later.” 

Thinking back, you didn’t stay when you took him home the first time, which he didn’t remember shit from, either. Fuck, he’s exhausted, but that’s not the point. 

The point is that, despite having several chances to do so, you didn’t overstep. Despite showing him—and telling him—how much you wanted to be here, you just… 

He might be in trouble. 

Not that he’s not already in deep shit anyway. He shouldn’t have agreed to doing anything else with you, nor went to your fucking house as much as he did. And he sure as hell shouldn’t have taken you to his bed a second time. 

But he’d do it all again, and he doesn’t have a damn clue why.

Even now, as he’s inching closer to you by his sink, he doesn’t have a reason. He doesn’t want one. Because reason doesn’t have a place in anything he’s done this weekend, much less the past couple weeks. 

Not when all he can think about is you telling him that you missed him. 

Has he heard that before? 

Of course he fucking has. Countless times.

But hearing it from you somehow drove something into his chest, and he almost forgot where he was. Which was dangerous, since he was in his fucking car. 

It was the shock of your admittance alone that got him to admit the same thing. 

And admit some other things to himself, nights afterwards. Like the fact that he can’t read you as well as he thought he could.

Holy fuck, he hasn’t been in this position in a long ass time. 

It’s with this thought that he stops himself. Reluctantly, he grits his teeth before making a decision, and he fakes a smile while reaching out to lightly tap your chin with a finger.

“You’re so cute.”

“Am not!” 

Yoongi walks back toward his room to change—certainly not to just step away for a second—and throws a question over his shoulder,

“You ready?”

“Yeah, I got everything.”

“K. Gimme ten.”

And though he will never admit it out loud, he missed cornering you in his kitchen. The last time he did that, he was under the impression you were with someone else. Even more off-limits than before. 

But now? 

Fuck. He can’t think about now. 

The both of you have to go. 

Taking off his shirt, Yoongi places it on his desk chair before rummaging through his drawers and closet to figure out what to wear. After choosing a standard white tee and some joggers, he grabs a black hat from its hook before thumping everything on the bed. 

The clanks of pans make their way into his room, and he blows air from his nose when he hears you opening multiple cabinets. You’re probably stressing over where to put everything. Hilarious. 

“Left side of the oven,” he calls out, and softly snorts at your exasperated,

“Damn it, I knew it.”

Grabbing one of the chains from his nightstand, he clips it on while walking to his bathroom, getting ready while trying not to think about everything he has to do this week.

If only that setback hadn’t happened last night. Yoongi’s sure they would’ve gotten everything done on time if not for that screw-up. The plan is to get in and out today and go the fuck home to sleep. 

He wishes you could stay longer. 

But your brother doesn’t stay gone for more than a weekend, always coming back Sunday nights and inviting him out for a drink. 

It’s his fault for crashing on you two nights in a fucking row. It seems like he can’t ever do something right when it comes to you.

He swears to make this whole thing up to you the next chance he gets. You deserve it, even though he doesn’t deserve you in the slightest.

Walking back out of his room fully changed and ready, he still has his friend in mind, asking your sitting form at the table,

“Am I taking you straight home? You sure he’s not already at the house?” 

The look on your face is strange. You tilt your head as you grab your bag, “He didn’t tell you? He’s gone for a whole week this time.”

What? A whole week? 

Why the fuck did air leave his lungs? 

“Oh, shit, really?” 

You’re standing by his table now, anticipating him walking you out. “Yeah, that’s what he said.” 

Wheels are churning in Yoongi’s head, a change in plans suddenly favorable to him for once.

Wait. Why were you so worried about this weekend if your brother was gone for a whole week? 

Did you really think he was just down for one more night? After finally seeing you take up his bed after a whole goddamn year?

The smirk Yoongi slips to you isn’t because of what he says aloud, but what he’s thinking instead. “Damn, they got him working.” 

“I know.”

One foot steps in front of the other, one by one as he launches into a series of questions that you’re going to answer, brain trying its damned best to tug him backwards because this is absolutely not what he should be doing.

“…So a whole week, huh?”

You freeze. “Yes...”

Don’t ask if you got plans. “You got plans?”

The gulp you swallow catches his attention immediately. “Not really…”

He’s in front of you now, staring into your eyes from below the rim of his cap. Nothing leaves either of your lips as he waits to say what he wants to next. The words almost die on his tongue, but he brushes off the stupid shit called nerves and logic before he rebels, 

“Then why am I taking you home?” 

It’s almost comical how fast your expression changes, pretty eyes widening and lips floundering. Yoongi has to hold everything in when you grasp for words. 

“I— I figured you wouldn’t want me here if you weren’t.”

Makes sense. Honestly, he himself doesn’t know why he’s acting like this, somehow fine with letting you stay for the few hours he’ll be gone. But his mouth is running on its own before the rest of his body can catch the fuck up. “You’re not a snooper, are you?” 

“What? No.” 

“Then we’re good. But, promise me you’ll get your shit done.” 

There. He knows you have things to do, knows you have a laptop stashed in your bag stuffed between the clothes you wore yesterday. That can be his excuse. For now. 

“But what if I’m lazy?” 

Yoongi snorts as he steps back to give himself some space. As much as he appreciates your honesty, he responds, “Well, tough shit. Do whatever you need to do today.”

“Okay… If you’re sure…”

“I am. And when I get back…” He reaches out to playfully flick your nose. “I’m gonna crash, okay?” 

“Huh?”

“Just for an hour or so. Can’t have you distracting me again, but. Don’t wanna pass out on you again, either.” 

“You sure you’re okay with me staying?”

“Why not?”

“I just… I dunno.”

Yoongi stuffs his hands in his pockets. “You can leave if you wanna.” 

Your quick rejection of that makes his mouth curve upward, and he lets you continue, 

“As long as you’re really okay with it.” 

Of course he is. There’s no way in hell he would’ve suggested it if he wasn’t. You’re just someone he feels that he can trust, especially after everything you’ve done for him in the last forty-eight hours. “No sweat, doll. I’ll be back soon anyway.”

Reaching around you, he picks up the food you made—shamelessly brushing his fingers along your arm in the process. Looking down at the aluminum cover, he finds his mind as crinkled as its surface. 

A decision is made. “I can’t lose to you.”

“What?”

His gaze flicks back up to yours. How can he even make things up to you if you keep one-upping him? Making him food to bring to work should make him feel weird, but he just feels like slamming the plate back on the table and laying you right across the wooden surface to devour instead.

But he reins all of his thoughts in. He’s so fucking late for work now. “I got the next one. Food wise.”

“Oh. Okay.”

There’s something laced in your tone. But what are you thinking? Is he doing too much? “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you say through an unsure smile. Your eyes are so brilliant right now. “You’re just… different today.” 

Oh. Damn, he’s in deep if even you notice a change. Playing off the slight buzzing in his stomach, he simply tosses you a wink. “Gotta keep you guessing.” 

Going to his door, he lazily points to the open space of his living room while aiming seriousness your way. “Don’t mess with my shit.” 

And your tiny laugh is music to him before you reassure, “I won’t.” 

“K.” 

With an open and close of his door, Yoongi’s now faced with silence and expectations and reality again. 

And he already wants to turn around and go back inside.

But he doesn’t, yanking his shoes from the ground to venture to his car, all while feeling stress from the weekend mount both shoulders. 

On the entire way to the studio, his thoughts drown out the music sliding out of his speakers and the humming of the drive itself. 

He’s not thinking about work, per se. But something else that’s causing his stomach to turn and his breathing to shorten. 

Fear. 

Not the fear that they won’t make the deadline or meet expectations—because they’re gonna—but the prediction that they’re gonna blow things out of the water.

Their studio is still lowkey. Frankly, he doesn’t know how this artist knew to reach out to them for production. It wasn’t until Jungkook told him that it’s a friend of a friend that Yoongi was somewhat convinced.

If things go well with this… 

He doesn’t wanna put any labels to it or jinx anything, but it may damn well be life-changing. 

And he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that. 

It’s the reason he’s been checked out of everything else lately. Dipping in the middle of the night to go in and practice shit. Try things. Figure things out on his own. He’s been so complacent for years that an opportunity like this one is causing him to stress constantly, wondering if it’s going to amount to anything but still expecting the worst.

Rolling up to the building, Yoongi sighs and sits for a good few seconds before finally leaving his car with your food. 

The studio seems void of people when he unlocks to get inside, but he doesn’t pay any mind, heading straight for his workspace behind the door at the end of the hall. 

When you asked him how the music thing was going, he was on the cusp of something. A crossroad. He didn’t want to talk about it because… well, he just didn’t. He doesn’t prefer to talk about himself. If anything, he would rather let his results and craft speak for him. 

At least, once he has something concrete. Which he doesn’t exactly have until this project is finished. 

Or maybe it’s because of the same thing that’s hovering above his bones now. Fear. A feeling that if he talks about it, the less likely it would happen. Besides, if people didn’t know his dreams, how could they possibly shoot them down?

But you didn’t do that at all. If anything, that was the most encouraging conversation he’s had about something personal to him and it only lasted seconds. 

You have no idea how much that affected him. Weeks after that night, he took a chance and joined this very studio, imposter syndrome consuming him everyday but his passion fighting it tooth and nail. 

As he sits himself in a chair that’s bared his weight for hours at a time, Yoongi stares at the equipment in front of him, trying his hardest to calm his nerves and ignore the slew of notifications that just won’t stop. 

Actually. 

Yoongi fishes out his phone, moving to set it on Do Not Disturb before seeing your name between all the numbers on his lockscreen. After he opens your thread, the things he’s greeted with aren’t straightforward hookup texts, pictures, passive aggressive messages, or anything like that. 

Just a bunch of food emojis. 

He glances at your plate in front of him.

Fucking adorable. Still texting him like a person desperately trying to keep a secret. 

But he’ll play along for now. After all, he’d rather see you react to the texts he wants to send you in person. 

Shooting you an inconspicuous thumbs up, he then goes back to silencing his phone. 

Until he does something that his brain is very much going to call him out for. 

Hovering over your name, he decides to set your thread for notifications, not wanting to think too much about it before stuffing his device back into his pocket.

It’s nothing. You’re just at his damn apartment. If something goes sideways he definitely wants to know. 

Right. 

“Bout time you showed up!” Someone shouts from the other side of the door. 

Yoongi turns before getting up to reach for the handle, letting them inside. “Sup, Kook.”

There’s a pop of a can before a response. “We finished Track Five without you.” 

As his boss continues to guzzle down whatever the hell he’s drinking, Yoongi leans on one of the arms of his chair. The guy had failed to mention that he contributed a bulk of the production on Five, but whatever. “Uh huh.” 

“Relax,” Jungkook jovially drawls before dumping himself on the sofa behind him. “I know you helped a lot on that. Fuck, I’m tired.” 

Yoongi turns back to the table. “Where’d you go this time?”

“The usual. Joji.”

Figures. A huff escapes his nose. “You aren’t tired of that place?”

“If the girls aren’t, I’m not.”

Yoongi tsks before shaking his head, rolling over to the far keyboard. “Girls love Joji.”

“Girls love Joji,” Jungkook airily repeats, and Yoongi can hear him crush the can before chucking it in a bin. “Let’s do this.”

Hold up. They aren’t gonna wait for anyone else? Usually everyone is present and huddling around the room. “Where are they?”

“Napping.” His boss goes to fiddle with the equipment, hoodie fully on his head and covering his entire profile. “They stayed overnight after you left.”

“The fuck? Really?”

“Yeah. Even I couldn’t get them to leave.”

“Damn.” 

“What even happened last night?” 

“One of the samples didn’t actually clear.” 

“What?” Jungkook sounds appalled, and his eyes are most likely saucers under those obnoxiously blonde bangs. “Which one?”

Tongue sliding along his lips, Yoongi just holds up two fingers while still heavily focused on the computer.

“The title track? What the fuck.”

“Yeah. We spent forever trying to spin something else up.”

“Shit. I can call them and see what’s going on.”

“Good luck. They didn’t answer when we tried.” 

“Fucking bullshit.” 

“I’m sayin’.”

Yoongi starts typing something on the keyboard while his brain whirrs with ideas and potential solutions. Hopefully Kook can pull this miracle off and get them time back because, if not, that’s gonna stay a huge setback. If a client of this caliber gets a delay on their first project with this studio, Jungkook can kiss any other opportunities goodbye. 

Shaking his head, he banishes any negative outcomes from his mind, snapping into focus on the programs in front of him. 

He can’t step away again. That’s the only reason he left when he did last night. His stress got to the point of debilitation, and his partners told him to go the fuck home because he wasn’t going to be useful if he stayed anyway. They were right. 

But apparently he wasn’t useful outside of work, too, because he didn’t even fucking realize what he was making you go through. Fuck, he felt like an ass when you answered that phone call. If he had just told you everything, you wouldn’t have been so worried since, when did you say? Basketball? 

Yoongi doesn’t know why that was the start of your worries, but he believes you. If you had witnessed what happened after you left…

Blowing air from his nose, Yoongi grabs the nearest set of headphones while hearing Jungkook hum one of the beats they crafted. 

Focus. Get shit done so he can go home. Back to you, and back to sleep. 

“What’s that?” 

Yoongi takes his cap off before rubbing his head. “Huh?” 

Jungkook points to the plate on the edge of the table and, for some reason, he doesn’t answer right away. “My food.” 

“Can I have so—”

“No.”

His boss simply wrinkles his nose in a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Who made it? Sure as hell wasn’t you.” 

“Why not?” 

“Am I wrong?” 

Yoongi just huffs before turning back to his monitor, taking the laughs that Jungkook aims at his side. 

“You never told me you were seeing someone.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Uh huh.” Plopping into the rolling chair next to him, the boy simply leans his head back. “But I get it. I respect the privacy.” 

After a few moments of peace, the silence is disrupted. 

“Are they hot?” 

Yoongi bursts into a snort while sporting a smile, not giving him anything but imagining your reaction to his question if you were here in person. What he wouldn’t give for that to be the case. 

“Fuck you,” Jungkook teases before scooting forward to start working. “You’re always so cool, I hate it.” 

More genuine amusement shoots from Yoongi’s nose, and the both of them finally get to business and work well into the next few hours. 

Even after he finally tried your food and paused because of how great it was, they kept going. When you texted him an adorable speaker emoji and a question mark, he quickly shot you a single word because he didn’t know if there was actually a desk emoji or not. Truly, the only moments he paused had to do with you, and both of them were pleasant breaks in his day. 

The one thing that completely halts their progress is the frustrating succession of yawns that consume him for a span of three whole minutes. Fuck.

“Bro, what is up,” Jungkook asks after he pauses the current track. “You seem super out of it.”

No shit. He definitely is. Yoongi rubs his face with both hands. “I’ll be okay.”

“I dunno.” Fiddling with some dials and clicking around on the computer screen, his boss continues, “You need to go?”

At this point, it’ll be hard to lie. Yoongi doesn’t think he’d be able to drive home if he stays like this much longer. And thinking of you and not wanting a repeat of what happened before, he decides to cut his losses here and admit, “I might.”

It’s one thing to say that he’d peace out early. But while in the studio, leaving is a lot harder to do, especially since the other guys aren’t back yet. Kook would end up by himself. 

“I’ll be okay if that’s what you’re worried about,” a soft voice beside him assures, and he doesn’t know how Jungkook was able to respond to his thoughts so quick. “I mean, I dipped last night anyway. Can’t really complain now.” 

“You sure?” 

“You look like shit, dude. Yeah.”

Yoongi nods before taking off his headphones, leaving them in hands resting on his thighs. It’s taking way too much energy to even get up at this point.

“And they’ll be back soon. We got it.”

Well. If they got the rest… 

Another nod is Yoongi’s first response before he finally sets the headset on the table. It takes him a bit to vacate his chair, but when he does, Jungkook spins to face him. 

“Sleep,” he orders as Yoongi settles his cap back on. “And then thank me by fessing up about who you’re seeing.” 

“Not seeing anyone, Kook.”

“Of course you aren’t. But tap that extra hard for me, yeah?”

Yoongi slowly shakes his head while tugging the door open, throwing a goodbye over his shoulder, 

“See you tomorrow.”

“See ya!”

Books. 

Yoongi has books under his coffee table. 

As you’re shutting down your laptop, you scan over the various titles and spreads you see, noticing with a cocked head that it’s a pretty interesting collection. Some seem like biographies of old school rap artists, a few manga volumes, and there are even cookbooks scattered around. There’s even something on classic… poetry? 

Hmm.

Wait. 

Yoongi reads? 

When have you ever seen him with a book in his vicinity? Had he ever mentioned anything about reading or anything of the sort? Are these just gifts his family had given him and he just kept? 

No. Judging by the near scarceness of his place, you quickly determine that he’s intentional with his stuff. There isn’t much displayed, but you know for a fact that everything that’s out is something he uses. Whether that’s daily or not, they all have their purpose. 

And that’s attractive as hell.

Glancing at your phone, you notice the time and figure that he may be back soon.

Before you even think about what to do for the rest of your waiting, you try for the eighty-ninth time to grasp the fact that Yoongi let you stay. 

It was enough for you to hear him tell you to stay last night without even knowing. But this time, you’re damn sure he was fully awake. 

What does that mean? Did it even mean anything? 

You might just be looking into things. Certainly, overthinking something like this will only get you lodged into places that you can’t help yourself out of. 

Geez. Taehyung would have a ball if you end up telling him everything. 

But you decide to keep this all close to your chest for now. Enjoy this momentary solace with someone you’ve been wanting to see for months and months. Whether he simply meant it as a nice gesture or something more, you’re going to make the most of it. 

And maybe do some pretending. 

Pretending that you can be someone that can be with him in public, or any of those scenarios you thought about on a balcony far away.  

Your playlist keeps going as you start moving into the kitchen, putting some bounce in your step and getting you in an even better mood. 

Turning towards the sleek device, you know you should’ve expected Yoongi of all people to have a really nice speaker. When you asked him if he had one earlier, you were pleasantly surprised to see it was a high-end brand with fantastic sound. Honestly, you might ask him if you can borrow it from time-to-time. 

Well. Maybe. Are the two of you friends enough to ask stuff like that? Would that look weird to other people? 

Yeah. You’re gonna cook again. Because you need a distraction. 

But there’s another reason, too. Even though he said he won’t lose to you, your competitive side won’t allow you to lose to him, either. Especially when it comes to food.

Geez. You’ll pay him back for all the stuff you’re using. 

Gathering everything you need, you start on something for lunch, singing and dancing along to whichever artists decide to join you while you work. Distraction, distraction. Pretending, pretending. 

What the fuck, he really did let you stay. 

With a lift of your lips, you silently hope he’s doing well at the studio. 

And your grin only grows when you notice that a lot of your songs are by the people lying down in books in the living room. 

You make good progress.

As sunlight beams into the kitchen from his dining table window, you still bustle around, vibing and singing along to words you both know and don’t. Drums and bass pulse from the high counter of his bar, and it’s so loud that you don’t even notice someone’s coming inside until—

“Hey.” 

Instead of being shocked like this morning, you’re in such a good mood that you just turn and smile. “Hey!”

Yoongi looks at you strange before scanning the kitchen. “What the hell is all this?” 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll clean everything! I just wanted to…” 

Your words slowly dissipate on your tongue. 

Clocks slow.

Why is he walking towards you like that? Why does time seem to bend right now?

“To…” 

What is that look on his face? 

“Win,” you whisper, suddenly caged in his arms as he pins you to the nearest counter. Dozens of emotions ping between your chest and his as he leans in, and your next words come out incredibly small but mighty in intention. “I can’t lose to you, either.” 

Though your music wasn’t paused, you still can’t exactly register which song is playing, nor hear the sizzling of the pan. All you can focus on is the enormous presence in front of you, suddenly acutely aware of how much you missed him even though it’s only been hours. How he’s able to charge the atmosphere around you in the span of seconds will always be a mystery.

Yoongi just stares and stares, his eyes roaming across your face and traversing every ridge, every valley, every imperfection that you know you have but he will deny. Why do you know that? How do you know he would?  

His eyes are lidded, lowering as much as his voice when he asks, “Why are you so…” 

So what? What is he thinking? 

How long had he been standing there before announcing himself because his actions feel—

You don’t get to hear the rest of it because Yoongi’s suddenly kissing you, sparks flying as you’re flung back to last night. 

Last night was quick, desperate, needed. And this contact feels the same, as if your actions all those hours ago never left your bodies, vibrating in your bones until you connected again. 

You don’t even notice you’re fisting his shirt to pull him in until he comments, proudly,

“I love when you do that.” 

“Do what?”

“What you want.” 

You heat from the inside. Encouraged and high on adrenaline, you go for his neck, fire flaring in your belly at the groans jumping out of his throat. 

His hands seize the back of your head and your waist as he tilts back, and when you lick his pulse, you feel fingers dig into your skin—hard. 

“Bab—”

Damn it! An alarm rings through the kitchen, yanking another curse out of your mouth. Reluctantly, you pull away before going to retrieve a dish from the oven, body reeling with the aftershocks of his attack. 

Yoongi takes a second to say something, and your breathing is still rough when he rasps out, 

“Didn’t I say it was my turn?” 

“You did,” you respond through a grunt, hauling the glass out and putting it on a rack. “But you never said I couldn’t cook again.” 

A tsk.

You think Yoongi will drag himself into his room after he concedes but, instead, he removes his cap before going to wash his hands. 

“What are you doing?”

“Helping.” 

“But”—you swirl the contents of your pan around with a spatula—“I thought you were gonna pass out?” 

“Change of plans.” 

Smiling down at your creation that smells incredibly enticing already, you tease, “Don’t think just because you’re helping that this counts.” 

Yoongi immediately fires back through a chuckle, “I can play dirty if that’s how you wanna do this.”

And you respond in kind, still reeling from the previous embrace. “Well, so can I.” 

“No chance.” 

When you finally turn to face him, he’s already putting down some vegetables on a cutting board, shoulder blades working under his white shirt as he starts chopping. 

Fuck. Turn back around. Now.

So you do, tasting what you have going already and turning off the oven. As you’re seasoning a few moments later, Yoongi comes up behind you and starts reaching for something on a high shelf, brushing against you a little too much and making you jerk forward. “Hey—”

“Whoops.”

“Ass!” 

The both of you keep going with your respective tasks, and Yoongi comes up to place another saucepan next to yours for his veggies. As he does his own seasoning and tossing, you’re finding it harder and harder to concentrate on your own food, your stirring getting slower, and slower, and slower. 

“You waving a white flag?” 

Blinking, you pierce his stupid smirk with a glare before lowering your pan’s heat. “As if. Oh, do you have water?”

“Yeah,” he juts his chin toward somewhere behind you. “Next to the fridge.” 

“Thanks.” 

All you need to do is wait for your food now, so you take a bottle and lean against the counter nearest his appliance. As you sip, you watch with piqued interest as Yoongi finishes his dish and slides the contents into a bowl. 

Reading. Cooking. Apparently still playing basketball. 

All of these things make up the Yoongi you don’t know, but you really, truly want to. Seeing him simply live his life outside of his regular scenes puts a small smile on your face, and you almost feel like someone looking in instead of actually being present. 

It has to be because you still think you’re dreaming. In your wildest imagination, you never would have guessed that you would wind up where you are now—after years and years of knowing a crush is all he’d ever be to you.  

Floating. You feel like you’re floating. Nothing in the moment can bring you down and you feel like you can do anything.

However, what you choose to do? It’s going to be childish. Borderline idiotic. 

But you can’t squash the flare of playfulness in your belly as you eye the running water that Yoongi’s using to wash his cutting board. It gave you this idea and you’re gonna see it through. 

Taking one last little sip, you sneak your way over to his side of the kitchen, the steady beat of the next song coming on shuffle. One step, two steps, one step more. 

Butterflies lift your feet to close the gap. 

You’re about to do this. It’s happening. 

It’s during the third bar that you pour your bottle right over Yoongi’s head, cackling as his shoulders shoot up while the rest of his upper body jerks down. 

“The fuck!” 

You’re already darting from the kitchen but his shout follows you, and while you’re frightened that he might be right on your heels, you peek from behind his sofa to assess. All you can see is his upper body above the bar, but it’s enough. 

He’s simply shaking his head before brushing his hair back. There’s a glimpse of his mouth that you can see, too, and you’re shocked to observe that his lips are turned upward instead of down as he keeps creased eyes on his sink.

“Shouldn’t’ve done that, doll.” 

Oh, god. 

Why isn’t he retaliating right away. 

…This may backfire. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you warily joke, gripping the half-empty container in your hand and crumbling under the way his strands stick to the sides of his head. 

“Come back here and find out.” 

“I’m good over here.” 

A small, impish laugh sparks from behind the partition separating his kitchen from the rest of the apartment. “Okay,” Yoongi stretches out in warning, voice light but threat dark. “Guess all this food is mine now.”  

“No!” you protest while staying right where you are. “It was just water!” 

“Uh huh.” He tilts his head to finally look right at you, and your knees give out at the teeth biting a section of his lip. “Then come here,” he goads with an eyebrow raise, grinning when you step back instead of forward. 

“Wow, would you look at the time? I gotta head out.” 

His amusement hisses out in bursts before he finally turns off the water, and he flicks some big droplets from his hair before he reveals himself around the corner. 

With a full bottle of what you believe to be very, very cold water. 

“Oh, no,” you point. “Yoongi, no!” 

He just tilts his head, face a blank sheet but you don’t buy it one bit. “What’s wrong? I’m drinking this.” 

“Liar!” Your senses are on full alert as your opponent makes his way to the couch, and you slip around to make sure you’re as far away from him as possible. Consequences to your actions start blaring in your ears and you are not quite ready to accept them. “I didn’t even use half of mine! That’s a full bottle!” 

“Don’t hate the play—”

“I hate you regardless,” you cut him short, feet now circling around one side of the sofa, the edge by a propped guitar in the living room corner. “Let’s start there.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mmhmm.”

Another switch of places as Yoongi gets in front of his coffee table, and you’re now barred from the front of his place. You can only flee into the kitchen or his room now—at least one of those options has a door. 

Giving him a quick once-over, you notice that his hair is slightly darker in shade when drenched, and it’s just like how you saw him on the court days ago. 

Was that why you decided to do what you did? You’ve never really been that spontaneous. Dousing someone in water in their flat? Who does that! 

Well, you did, but clearly your brain was on something else because it just wanted something to happen. Maybe, deep down, you really needed to see him like this again—this time, all to yourself. 

“Better think fast.” 

“Wh—”

Freezing liquid splashes onto you before you can fully raise your arms, and a string of yells flies out of your mouth before your body acts on its own. “Bitch!” 

If he doesn’t give a crap about his furniture, neither will you! You fling your uncapped bottle towards him in an arc, running into his room after you get another douse of cold as fuck water on your side. “Yoongi!” 

All you get in response is his laughs, and the quick thumps of his feet blaze a trail behind you before he bumps into his door. “Ow! Fuck.” 

You blow air from your lips at his reaction, bolting into his bathroom to fill your bottle with more liquid ammunition. 

“Hey, fuck that!” 

A surprise laugh leaps out of your throat after you try to kick his door closed because he bursts through immediately, pouncing on you before you can fling more water his way.

Shit! 

Was he always like this? You figured he would just let your little stunt go and be chill about it. You didn’t expect to end up here, legitimately fighting over a crackling water bottle and acting like complete children. It’s setting wings free to invade the far reaches of your stomach, challenging your mindset that real life cannot possibly be better than your dreams.

“You cheat!” you grit out, wrestling him while trying not to cave in at the sight of his soaking hands on yours. “I’m freezing!” 

His hisses are so fucking attractive before he taunts low, “You mad?”  

“A bit!” 

“Good.” 

With a quick glance in the mirror, you almost halt all your movements when you see the both of you in your struggle. Yoongi’s face appears the brightest you’ve ever seen it, and it’s almost as if the bags under his creased eyes are completely gone.

You want him to stay that way forever. 

But you must’ve been staring for too long because Yoongi notices, pausing to look up at your same reflection. 

He’s so fucking handsome. 

And you’re now shivering for a different reason. 

Because while you stay focused on the mirror, Yoongi faces you fully, eyes covered by a wet curtain of bangs but still effective enough to make you swallow. 

You know he can see your shaky breathing, your nipples poking through your shirt, your tongue coming out to lick your lips. He can see it all, and yet you make no move to hide it. You’ve waited far too long to prevent yet another miracle from happening. 

So when one of his hands leaves yours to turn off his faucet, you gulp. When it then slides up your neck, you watch everything happen in the mirror and don’t even notice how his icy digits take your breath away. On instinct, you tilt your head back just a bit, and your limbs lock when you witness Yoongi angling his head to capture your ear between his teeth. 

Lust coats every inch of your body in an instant, and you have to fight to not close your eyes. You desperately want to see all of this unfold because there’s no way you’ll get another chance. 

“Yoongi,” you whisper, tilting your head to give him more canvas to paint with his hot tongue. His fingers tighten slightly around your column, and you moan at the way you can see their veins shift in his reflection. “Fuck.” 

He says nothing, using his thumb to brush along your jaw before sliding his palm down to squeeze one of your breasts. A whimper slips out of your mouth as your back arches forward, and you say his name even softer while his lips leave sparks all along your neck. 

“This is all you get for now, doll.” 

You moan again when you feel his other hand palm your ass, sinking in the depths of his voice, 

“You’re lucky I can’t—”

Pause. 

Shit, shit, shit!

Both of you snap your wet bodies toward the bathroom entrance at the same time, a burning smell intruding the space. 

“Fuck!” you gasp before exiting with him in tandem. “The pan!” 

Yoongi’s there before you are, quickly shutting off the stove and turning on the vent fan above it. While you hand him a mitt, you’re hurriedly swiping smoke from the air. 

“Open the front,” he instructs before he takes the pan off the heat, and you’re fast to obey, wondering just how long you were both heavily sidetracked. 

Because the food was almost done when you decided to be a menace, so who knows how overcooked everything is now. 

Damn it. 

No alarms end up going off, but you’re still apologetic as you sigh, “Sorry.” 

Yoongi shoots you a look. “For what?” 

“The food!” 

Is he not worried? Because you certainly are. You potentially wasted a bunch of his ingredients.

He shrugs. “No worries. I think we can save it.” 

“Okay.” 

Using a wooden spatula, Yoongi transfers all the food onto a dish, tilting his head to inspect all the charred parts. “Nah, yeah. We’re good.” 

“Whew. Okay,” you sigh again, but this time in relief. You would’ve felt truly cold in your wet garments if he did place any blame on your shoulders. 

But would he really ever do that? 

“Oh, I meant to tell you.” He waits until you flick your eyes back to his. “Your food was good.” 

And your mood is instantly brightened. 

If there’s one thing you’re confident about, it’s your cooking abilities. Years of having to fend for yourself molded you into an intuitive chef, so you know that you can at least do that if nothing else. But hearing praise about it come straight from him? It puts you way above the stars. 

“Told you,” you hum. “You didn’t have everything I wanted but it still turned out nice.” 

“What did I not have?” 

“I think you just ran out. Sesame oil.” 

“Oh, fuck. I meant to get more.” 

“It’s all good.” 

The both of you divvy up the food, hair and clothes dripping water onto smooth floors and conversation light. After the plates are made, all the water around the apartment is swept by towels—one of them being used to slap your ass, which you yelp at before getting revenge for immediately. 

After the two of you sit at the table, positions switched this time with you in the middle chair staring at the window, the environment settles into one of comfort. Only the sounds of your continued playlist and the vent fan mingle around your bodies. 

It’s almost perfect. Legitimately almost perfect. 

If only the first bite you took didn’t taste awful as hell. 

Apparently it isn’t just you—Yoongi’s face contorts when you shoot him a look, both of you slowly chewing and realizing that something went completely wrong.

Through a mouth full of food, you start to ask, “…Wha thu fu—”

Yoongi bursts into a garbled laugh at the same time you do, both of you getting rid of the bites in your own ways and chucking them straight into a bin. 

“Oh, god.”

“What the fuck did you do.”

“Hey!”

After boring holes straight into what’s lying on your plate, you determine that the burned bits, while they contribute to the alarming flavor, aren’t the only reason for the taste. Something happened with the actual seasoning. That had to be it. 

A light goes off in your head. 

“Oh,” you suddenly peep, feeling Yoongi’s eyes on you from behind. “I know.”

“What?”

“This is your fault.”

“How?”

You scoff as you turn, aiming a finger at the ground next to the oven. “When you bumped into me!”

Yoongi’s eyes avert while his mouth pushes up, and he feigns innocence, “I don’t think that happened.”

“It— Whatever.” You stare at the stove, slightly put out by your failed meal.

“Hmm.” His arm brushes yours as he walks by, taking his seat again and leaning against the back of his chair. Taking note of his perfectly fine vegetables, he taunts with an ask, “So do I win this time?”

“No.”

“Figured.” 

You continue to lament the food for a moment. Looking around the kitchen, you’re wondering how to fix it while your stomach simmers with rumbles. Damn.

It isn’t until your gaze sweeps across the same bowl of fruit that Yoongi placed in front of you a year ago that you get an alternative. 

Fully aware of the irony, you grab it and bring it to the table, suddenly shy when you delicately place its round shape down with a thud. 

Yoongi just looks at you with a loaded stare before huffing amusement from his nose, and you bite your lip to keep from smiling. “Whatever,” you brush him off. “I’m peeling these how I want.” 

Another low laugh escapes him as he shields his mouth with a hand, and the two of you finally share some semblance of a meal and call it a truce over tangerines. 

Things settle into a nice blanket of peace. There aren’t many words spoken, but it’s not awkward. Not strained. It’s as if the little fight you had earlier dispelled whatever lingering tension existed. 

You hum along to the current song until it transitions into the next, a classic that washes you in nostalgia.

Even Yoongi flicks his eyes to the speaker resting on his counter. “Shit, I haven’t heard this in...”

“Right?” Your head keeps bobbing. “I keep forgetting about it until it randomly comes on.”

He has a look on his face that you can’t quite pin down, but it’s nothing negative. If anything, you’re wondering what he’s thinking about. Is he thinking about the past? Maybe a memory this song lodged into his brain? 

Because it simply reminds you of back then. Back when you didn’t have tons of responsibilities and the only problems you had were your brother’s insistence and grades. 

Speaking of him, you remember the question you’ve been wanting to ask Yoongi since he mentioned something about his hair. 

“He said it’s been awhile since you went orange,” you whisper, looking at his drying strands. “Why now of all times?” 

“Mm.” He appears distant then, expression borderline wistful as he stares across the room. “Just felt like it.”

“I really like it.” 

Turning back to you, he smiles before pushing his plate away. His arms cross as he leans back, and you once again drown in his voice as he responds, “Thanks. I almost went with another color.”

You remember the other boxes. And frankly, you would’ve been destroyed either way. “The blonde?”

“Yeah. It was this or lighter.” 

“Oh, my god. I remember the time you went with like, mint.”

Huffs of amusement tumble onto his tabletop. “Shit, you remember that?” Yoongi asks through a grin. “Damn. I didn’t think about that. Should I?”

“No!” You cough before staring down at your food, your turn to avoid eye contact as he turns. 

Pent-up laughter comes through in his question. “Why?” 

Picking your head back up, you just shoot him a quick pout before looking away, remembering the fluttering you felt in your stomach every time you came across him back then. “Because I’d avoid the hell out of you.” 

Yoongi can’t keep in his laughter a second time, letting it out before yawning, “Definitely considering it now.”

Scraps of peeled orange skin litter the table, and it isn’t until Yoongi’s done with his third fruit that he starts dozing off. 

Noticing his leaned frame, you pipe up, “Yoongi?” 

He blinks before rubbing his eye. “Mm?” 

“You gonna nap now?”

“Yeah.” 

As much as you want to join him, you need to figure something out about your still very wet clothes. And do some more job hunting since, from the looks of things, he was a lot more productive than you were. While you may have gotten a head-start on the cooking battle, he’s miles ahead with general productivity. 

“Okay. I’ll do some more work.” 

“You sure? Didn’t you say you’d nap?”

“Ah…” You did. “Mmhmm.” 

Yoongi looks at you as if he already knows the answer to his next question. 

“You’re gonna take the couch again, huh?”

Sheepish, you purse your lips before looking away. Damn, he really can just read you like a book if he wanted to. Maybe those volumes under his coffee table are just decor, and people are the ones he reads the most. 

But you get a head shake and a smirk before he responds, “Suit yourself, doll.” 

You don’t get to reply how you want to because—oh, fuck—he’s already tugging his shirt off before heading into his room. Your eyes zero in on the jewelry he has resting on his neck, and you follow his rippling back muscles for a few seconds until you snap out of his trance. 

Is he going to sleep like that?

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Why don’t you just take the bed! 

Oh, god, he’s coming back out with a towel on his head and handing one to you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, getting a nod in return. 

Quickly, you gather yourself while vacating your chair, picking up your peels while he does the same and trashing them in the kitchen. You’re the most aware of the heat radiating off his bare skin, but you have to hold it together. For everything’s sake, hold it together. 

“I’ll be in there,” Yoongi says while moving past you. “Shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.” 

“Take all the time you need,” you offer, eyes betraying you by giving him an obvious once-over. Your fingers grip your towel a bit tighter as you proclaim, “I’ll just be, umm. Out here.” 

He shoots you one more dashing smirk before turning around to head into his room, leaving the door open and your mind in a frenzy.

Maybe you will. 

No. 

…Maybe? 

You sigh as you shut your laptop with a click, leaving only the ambient sounds of the apartment into your ears. 

After Yoongi retired to nap, you were quick to shut off his speaker, forcing yourself back onto his sofa with determination to apply for one more listing. 

But, as time goes on, you can’t help but turn around to peek into his room. Wondering what he looks like when he sleeps. Wondering what he’s wearing, or not wearing right now. 

Maybe you will go in there. 

It’s not like he said you couldn’t. If anything, the open door serves as an open invitation. 

Still cold from your slightly damp clothes, you set your device down before slowly venturing through his place to get to his door. A door that you’ve already crossed way more times than you could have imagined. 

Looking around, you spot Yoongi on his usual side of his bed, comforter covering him just enough to show only the top of his bright, mussed hair. 

While you do want to take a nap, too, you don’t want to get in his sheets with your current clothes. They’re still way too wet, and the garments you have in your bag are dirty. 

Maybe… 

As you turn, you spot a shirt hanging on the back of his desk chair a couple paces away. How you didn’t see it when you went in here to get his speaker earlier, you don’t know. 

It’s big enough. Right?

Yoongi won’t mind. Possibly.

Thinking that you’ll just do something in return for yet another borrowed item, you quietly swipe the dark shirt before slipping into his bathroom to change. 

After engulfing yourself in his top, you realize it’s one of the comfiest you’ve ever worn. Screw borrowing this, you might just pay him for it. 

But. The pants are another issue; Yoongi didn’t have any lying around that you could covertly use. 

Well. 

Okay. Plan. Plan to wake up before he does. That way you can get up and put on hopefully dried bottoms before he even notices you aren’t wearing any. 

Why do you feel excitement instead of dread? 

No! 

Just nap, get up, and change right back into your clothes. 

Maneuvering into Yoongi’s bedroom, you breathe a small sigh of relief when you notice that he’s still fast asleep. 

And annoyingly, he still looks so damn handsome. 

You circle around the bed, arriving at the other side and trying not to overthink what to do. 

Whatever. You’re just napping. That’s it. 

Sliding under his covers as lightly as you can, you lower yourself impossibly slow, settling right against the edge and commanding yourself to remember the plan you came up with in the bathroom. What was it again? It was simple, right?

But before you could go over it again, your eyes already droop, and your vision goes dark as sheets and softness and rest lull you right to sleep.

When you awake, it’s deep into the late afternoon, sunset spilling into the cracks of Yoongi’s bedroom blinds and coating the walls in a color you’ve thought a lot about lately. 

Warmth and cologne smother your form as you nestle your head further into your pillow. All is good. You feel rested. 

Blinking slow, you stretch your body and freeze. 

Because the warmth you feel is not just due to blankets. But an arm slung around your waist. 

Oh, fuck. The plan. Oh, shit shit shit, you completely forgot that you were supposed to wake up before Yoongi— 

“You got some nerve.” 

Your breath hitches, nonexistent as you stutter, feeling the lightest of brushes on your shoulder. Shit, those are his lips, incredibly soft even through the thick material of his shirt on your skin. “I don’t...I don’t know what you mean,” you respond, eyes staring directly at his window. 

“Acting all innocent.”

Fuck, his post-sleep voice is so deep. You’ve heard it once before when he called you the night after you drove him home. But that was on the phone. 

Now? Hearing its rough texture but soft tone right in your ear? You’re not quite sure if you’re in his room or in a fantasy at this point. 

The hand on your waist starts to wander, sliding down your belly and hovering over a place that’s getting wetter by the second. “When you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Yoongi…”

You’re fully alert now, melting under his touch and sounds alone. The soft breaths on your shoulder dip onto your neck like fog in a valley, and his weight feels like a mountain, nothing but a pleasurable burden.

It’s been awhile since that summer day. The day that started on your fleeting demands and insistence alone. It should feel like so much time has passed but, being here now, all of those nights feel like nothing. You’ve traveled to another dimension entirely, where time is irrelevant and only his place exists. 

Yoongi’s hand finally presses onto your mound over his shirt, and you instinctively move your hips forward to push into him. Fuck! 

His quiet laugh is filled with amusement and something else, something dark and feral and toe-curling. You don’t know how you’re still conscious, still lucid, still not saying anything. 

Finally, you start to list your reasons for why you’re here, wondering if they’re actually excuses instead. “This was more comfortable.”

He definitely sees them as the latter. “Uh huh.”

“And my clothes were wet.”

“Mm.”

Keep going. Don’t mind the fingers ghosting over your thinly covered folds. Don’t. “I was gonna take the couch again…” 

“But you didn’t.”

“Sorry... I really wasn’t trying anything,” you breathe out, honest. 

Yoongi’s low laugh is deep. Impossibly deep. And it drags you down into an abyss that you can’t find a way out of. “Who said you need to apologize?” You feel his hand move from your center to your hip, gripping the flesh there in a warning squeeze. “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking for.” 

“And what is that?” 

Your ass is tugged back immediately, flush with his pelvis and something that has haunted your dreams. Moaning on contact, you think there’s a dark promise in his actions. A promise he better keep. 

“You said,” you gasp, “You said—” 

“Fuck what I said.”

“I…” You gulp down your nerves, both your stomach and your cunt fluttering with anticipation. “Wanted this so bad.” 

A deep hum rumbles behind your back, and you feel every single delicious vibration. It’s astounding how those sounds alone are enough to affect you between your thighs. “Wanted what.”

“You know what,” you sigh through a bitten lip.

“I do.” Yoongi kisses your shoulder, igniting your nerves and making you exhale. “I just like hearing you say it.” 

“Oh…” A sharp moan leaves your lips as Yoongi shifts his hand, and the first contact he has with your breast makes you flinch. The laughs you get in response only serve to turn you on further, and you don’t even realize why they’re happening until you hear dark amber seeping into your ear, 

“Innocent my ass.” 

“Shut up,” you deny in response. “I just don’t sleep in bras.”

“Mm.” He squeezes tighter. “If I remember right, you said you prefer shirts.” 

“Hmmm, almost.” You don’t know what causes you to say what you’re about to. Is it the lingering contentedness? The way you’re already this turned on? Frustration from not being able to just say what you want to taking over? Whatever it is, screw it, you’re gonna say it. 

“I’d prefer your shirts instead.” 

The payoff is immediate. Yoongi groans before swooping into your neck, kisses deep and hot on your column. Sighing, you give him as much access as you can, arching your back and pushing your ass into his front. 

This is a dream. Only a dream. The hand squeezing your breasts isn’t real, the tongue lolling over your ear is just your imagination, the growing hardness poking your back is just something you conjured in the deepest parts of your mind.  

Experienced fingers move down to your mound again, pulling light moans from your throat and forcing your eyes shut. Words are so, so hard to come by now. Harder than ever before. But you try to respond in any way possible. “I… Umm—”

“You don’t get to be shy this time,” he instantly growls in your ear, his hand leaving your cunt to pat your cheek. “And don’t try me.” 

Did he just…? 

When you’re too shocked to respond, he pats your cheek a bit harder, and the burn has your cunt pooling with pleasure and your mind going blank. “Got it?”

“Mm—”

Another pat before your chin is lightly snatched in his fingers. “Say it.”

“I won’t,” you gasp, loving the slight sting and wondering how he knows you would. “I won’t be shy.” 

“That’s a good girl.” Yoongi then slides his hand down to choke you while shoving his hips forward, making you moan impossibly high and catapulting your mind into space. “Caught me the fuck off guard last night, but. Not today.” 

“Huh?”

You still don’t know what he means by that. Didn’t you both get what you wanted last night? Yes, it was short-lived and a passing storm, but it was still a tiny piece of heaven. You wouldn’t trade what happened last night for anything. 

Until his next words bury themselves in your ear to be remembered for a long, long time, 

“I can finally take my time with you.”

“Fuck.” Oh, shit. Shit shit shit, this is gonna be how you go. You’re already sure of it. The only things you can say are expletives, nothing other than his name stored in your head. “Yoongi.” 

It doesn’t take him long to launch into action, hoisting your leg over his hip and allowing him access to everything. Instead of sliding your flimsy panties off, Yoongi repeats what drove you wild last night. A single finger slips underneath the back string before he peels them to the side, hot digits caressing your ass before giving a cheek a plush spank. 

“Missed this fucking ass.” 

After you can only moan in response, he slides his fingers up into your cunt from behind, folds already drenched in lust from his relentless aura alone. Your moans quickly evolve into whines as Yoongi finds a perfect spot way too quickly. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls behind you, “What the fuck?”  

You’re not even fully aware that your lower body is thrusting on his fingers, your voice coming out in a wisp, “Just for you.” 

“Fuck, doll,” he rasps out in your ear. “Come here.”

Pulling out his soaking fingers, he uses his other hand to grip your shoulder and force you to lie flat on your back. 

Fuck, your muscles are locked and your bones are thrumming. Your cunt is pulsing impossibly fast, longing to be filled by those digits again but also something a lot thicker and longer. 

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi grips the covers. When he swipes them off of your form in one smooth motion, air whooses in to fill the space. 

“Wait! I’m cold!”

“I’m sorry,” he says without giving a shit. Maneuvering on his knees, his stomach and chest flex with his movements, and your eyes widen at his bulge angrily poking his sweats. 

Fuck. You need it. You need whatever he’s giving you and you know that him taking his time only spells a slow defeat. 

But in spite of his earlier reaction, Yoongi still pulls the covers back over your stomach, and you feel your heart speed up its beating at the gesture. 

Honestly, you may not even need the covering anymore. His shirt is still fully on your upper body and, with a quick thought, you’re wondering why he hadn’t torn it off you yet. 

Your chills are promptly forgotten as he arrives in front of your folded legs. “Open up.”

Why are you still embarrassed? Why do you still feel so self-conscious at the prospect of him seeing you down there again? “Yoongi—”

“Relax.” He slides a reassuring hand over your knee. “You been eaten out since the last time?” 

Freezing, you don’t know why the words can’t escape your mouth. It’s like they’re just as anxious as you are. But you answer him. Truthfully. 

“Yeah.” 

There’s a brief moment of silence before anything is said. But his response holds nothing negative as he softly slips your panties off, 

“Good. You deserve it.” 

Something warm overcomes you as you feel your legs relax, and as they’re pried open, you still close your eyes in lingering embarrassment. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to this feeling, especially with him. 

“It was pretty lame, though.” 

You feel a shift below you as Yoongi lifts his head to watch your pout, and the air that leaves his nose precedes a wide grin of pity. “Damn. That sucks.”

You laugh. “What if I lied? What if I said they were better than you?” 

Ah. Probably not the best thing to say.

He prods a cheek with his tongue while aiming a taunt across your body. “I fucking dare you.” 

Fucking hell, you never wanted to follow through with something more in your life. Maybe it was the absolute correct thing to say. 

Mustering up courage, you fight a smile. “It wa—” 

Fuck! A lone finger slides along your folds, making you arch upward on contact. 

“What was that?” 

You want to strangle him with your thighs. “I said you’re a jerk!” 

Yoongi outright laughs before he responds, voice impossibly deep, “You’re not wrong.” 

“I hate you.” 

“Good.” 

You start to bubble with laughter until you feel Yoongi adjust himself and, when you peer down your nose, the sight that greets you almost makes you faint. 

Yoongi’s fully on his stomach, only the orange of his hair and the glint of his chains visible as he lazily positions his face between your thighs. Both his hands slide along your skin before securing them with tiny divots, and his brow quirks once before lust droops both of his eyelids. 

Tension weighs down all the air above your chest, and you still as he flickers his gaze up before giving a single kiss to your thigh. 

God, he’s so attractive. You really cannot fathom how you’re the one here right now. With him. Already, you feel another wave of want flood through you, arching your head back with closed eyes. “Please…” 

“If I’m doing this,” he suddenly says, voice gravelly and lax, “None of that quiet shit.” 

“What?”

A quick flick of his tongue ignites your entire leg on fire, making you tense on impact. “You heard me.”

“But—”

“If I don’t hear you, I’ll stop.”

“Fuck…” You’ve always been a bit on the muted, quieter side in bed. Not by choice. It’s just… before Yoongi, there hasn’t been a time you truly enjoyed things enough to be vocal. Frankly, you thought people lied if they were loud.

How are you supposed to change it up so—

“Don’t cover that fucking mouth,” is the last thing he says before diving in and making you wanna do exactly that. Holy fuck, you remembered this part so much tamer than it actually is.

His licks are slow and languid, but they are relentless. Every tiny swipe of his tongue causes shocks to run through you in jolts, twisting your body side to side in a lover’s dance. Yoongi’s lapping you up and swirling around your clit like he has all the time in the world. 

Goddamn, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Not only can he read you, but it’s like he’s studied you before even putting his hands on your flesh. He knows exactly what makes you lose control in the best and worst ways and doesn’t shy away from showing that knowledge off. At all. 

Are you loud enough? You’re certainly screaming in your head.

Apparently not. Because he stops.

Regret floods you in an instant. “Yoongi, please!”

“Louder.”

Even though you know the stupidly simple instruction, you can’t find it in yourself to oblige. 

But his fingers slide down your folds and up again, massaging your clit with the pad of his thumb. Shit! Maybe that will be enough to convince you. “What did I say?”

“Louder,” you whisper.

“Huh?”

“Louder!“ you moan after he pats your cunt for encouragement. Fuck, okay. That gets you somewhere. “You said louder.”

“And I mean it. So do it.”

“Okay,” you whisper, finding loose sheets on either side of you to grip. Your next one comes out at a higher volume when you realize how softly you agreed the first time, “Okay.”

“That’s my girl.”

Yoongi swoops his tongue down again, pressing into your folds while he continues to devour you like his last, parting meal. The sounds coming from his rougher licks push your head back into his pillow and, finally, a guttural moan shoves its way past your bitten lip. 

Once you start, you don’t stop.

Because there isn’t a single thought you can process. You’re pretty sure you’re saying things, or at least attempting to. But all that’s happening in your brain is a burst of pleasure, clouding your eyes and clawing at your soul. When you grip the sheets tighter, you let yourself go and moan out nearly every curse you know. 

The low growl you get in response bends your toes, and Yoongi mercifully lets you breathe when he pauses. “Just like that, babe. Lemme hear you.” When your legs are pried open even more, Yoongi takes a moment to admire his view. 

If you weren’t shy before, you definitely are now, skin burning under the intensity of his blown-out eyes. Your face scrunches in embarrassment, but he isn’t paying attention. 

“Taste so fucking good.”

Once more, Yoongi laps at your cunt, every flick of his hot tongue destroying you and causing your vision to blank. Words and phrases gush from your mouth, but they’re all unintelligible. You can’t help but lock your legs, wanting to close them to lessen the overwhelming pleasure. 

A soft laugh puffs beneath you. “Relax, baby girl.” 

“Sorry.” 

“S’ok.” Yoongi assures you with a tap to your locked up leg. “Breathe.” 

You do tame your muscles for a bit, but Yoongi’s tongue still feels too good, darting into your folds at random to give you delicious shocks. Once, twice, a third time that has your entire pelvis arching off the bed. 

Fuck!

Don’t be shy; relax your body. How are you failing simple orders? Does he know how hard these things are for you? Does he know even the easiest of tasks become near impossible under his control? Everything feels just out of reach. 

Even coming. 

Because Yoongi’s doing just enough to bring you to the edge but hold you there. His movements offer little twinges of pleasure, but nothing more.

And he knows it’s driving you up a wall. He’s playing you like a pro and you’re suffering, writhing on the bed and creasing his sheets in your fists. 

Between your fumbling and unintelligible phrases, you do end up saying something coherent. And it catches the attention of the fiend between your thighs. 

He stops, lifting his mussed head and staring down at your form. “What was that?” 

“Please let me come.”

“No.”

Motherfucker! “Please!”

“Then say my name.” 

Have you not been? It’s the only goddamn thing on your mind. “Yoongi! Fuck!”

Frustrated and running severely hot, you rip the covers off of you, needing more space to breathe and let out your pent-up lust. 

“Finally.” 

Before you know what he means, you feel Yoongi shift and grapple your legs, tugging you further down the bed. 

A whine leaps out of your throat at the swift yank, and you’re so thrown into bliss that you don’t even realize what awaits you next. 

Turns out, he pulled you far down enough to position you at the very edge of his mattress, and when you look up to see why, your brain empties entirely. 

Oh, fuck. 

Yoongi’s kneeling. 

And his toned arms are fully wrapped around your thighs so you can’t mo—

Holy fuck! 

His name tears from your mouth as you succumb to rough drags of his tongue. The grip he has on your legs is harder than ever, pinning you in place so that the only thing you can do is cry out. Below you, Yoongi worships you with the most unholy sounds you’ve ever witnessed.

Every time you attempt to squeeze your legs together, he pries them apart and holds them with determined fingers, continuing to slurp you out until you are nothing but a writhing mess. You suffer at the sight of his hands on your thighs, veins angry and protruding when he clenches them into your skin.

Fuck! You wanna come. You want release. All you feel is intensity building in your center and it’s going to consume you whole if it stays untamed. 

Tell him. Tell him you need it need it need it. 

But you can’t. Only his name claims the air above your mouth, over and over and over again.

“Yoongi! Yoongi, please!” 

Finally. Finally, he leaves you with a quick suck to your clit before raising a hand to slap your cunt, jolting your body upward. 

“Come, doll. Come so I can fuck your brains out.” 

Holy fucking shit.

It’s as if those words were the key to unlock your deepest desires, and you gush around his tongue, maybe even more than you did all those months ago against that door. 

There’s a gravelly hum simmering between your legs, but your head is already lulling to the side as your body fully takes over, leaving you unable to process anything else. Every muscle and bone locks and thrums as waves surge through you, spilling out of your center and onto Yoongi’s drenched jaw. 

Honestly, you don’t know how long your high lasts. All you know is that you’re already sagging into his sheets, sweat coating your skin in a light sheen. 

The one thing that brings you clarity is a wet kiss to your quivering thigh, then another further down, and finally one more to the side of your knee. 

Exhausted, you can barely lift your head to stare down at the person of all your affections. But you make a flimsy attempt, catching a quick glimpse of his expression as he delicately holds your other leg in his palm. 

Still so damn attractive. He’s probably never had to worry about appearances a day in his life.

Staring right at your lidded eyes, Yoongi slides his soaking mouth along your skin as he slowly sets your limb down with care, straightening his body to lean over you and plant the sloppiest kiss on your lips. 

You expect the taste this time, sighing into his touch and even darting out your tongue to welcome more. The muffled moan you get encourages you to keep going, and you sling tired arms around his neck to bring his chest flush against yours, thin gold inching down the slope of your sweaty neck. 

Already, you want more. More more more and something that only Yoongi can give you. 

When he pulls away, he tugs your bottom lip with his teeth, groaning low. “So perfect.” 

Lies. “I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

Whether he’s lying or not, you don’t want Yoongi to say these things. Not here. Not when you’re at your most vulnerable and most prone to catching feelings you can’t feel. Ever. 

Grasping for a change of attention, you fist small sections of his shirt. “Take these off,” you pout, mirroring last time. And you try your best to ignore the shit grin he flashes you when you continue, “All of it this time.”

Mouth still covered in your essence and saliva, Yoongi obliges, “Yes, ma’am.” 

Kneeling over you, he yanks his shirt over his head and flings it away before moving to the side to remove his sweats. Empowered, you grab at his dick before his bottoms fully come off, and he chuckles sinfully at you while throwing his pants to the floor.

“Someone’s bold today.” 

“And?”

“Fucking love it. Move up.” 

You try your best to, frowning when you get a menacing grin. Ass. 

But your sore muscles make it to the pillows again, and Yoongi leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. Your eyes squeeze shut while a sigh slides from your mouth into his. 

Caught up in pleasure, you want to return the favor. He just gave you a mind-numbing orgasm just from his tongue alone. Again. It’s the least you can do. 

Besides. You’ve been thinking about having his dick in your mouth way too many nights to admit out loud. 

“Yoongi,” you whine. “Lemme suck you off.” 

There’s a low hum before he moves his hot lips to your neck, coaxing shivers there as he plants tender touches along your column. “As much as I want that dirty mouth of yours,” he whispers against your ear, “This isn’t about me.”

“What?” 

Wait. Is he serious? You both have all the time in the world but he’s still determined for this to just be for you? 

“Told you. I’d make it up to you.” 

Fuck. Don’t think about it. Don’t overthink it. 

“If you say so…” You whisper back, arching upward when you feel a hand ghost over your chest. 

“I do.” Yoongi then shifts his hand down to the hem of his top still covering your body. “Now gimme my shirt back.” 

You obey with a laugh, knowing he’s teasing and starting to think he fully intended to keep it on you until now. 

Raising your arms, you let him take it off, and he slides it up like you’re a delicate package. When you’re fully uncovered, he admires your contents like he’s never seen them before. 

You don’t know how to react.

Your eyes flicker between the dark orbs hiding behind orange locks. What’s he really thinking? Why do you feel like you can’t breathe? 

His staring goes so long that you move to cover yourself, to which he latches both of your wrists and pins them above you in response. 

A whoosh of breath leaves you as he insists, “None of that.” 

“I—”

“I’m serious.” 

You gulp, feeling goosebumps take over your body. “…Okay.” 

Silent, Yoongi stares at your timid expression before lowering his eyes back to your chest, and you can feel your nipples hardening just under his gaze alone. With your arms locked in his hands above you, you think you should feel trapped. Same with your legs held captive in his arms. But, in both instances, you feel free. How that’s the case, you will still wonder about, days and days from now. 

You hear a grunt before Yoongi leans down to take a nipple in his mouth, and the way his tongue swipes it has you thrashing in an instant. 

“Yoongi—” 

Fuck. Why did he pin your arms! You wanna grab him, run your hands along his smooth skin, rake your nails down his bare chest. 

But he doesn’t let you. Every time you try to escape his grasp, Yoongi simply squeezes and holds your arms back down again. Damn him! 

Another swipe of his tongue, a lick, a suck—everything he’s doing, he’s doing with purpose. And shocks pulse throughout your body with each touch. 

Your mewls are constant, differing in pitch and length but rising high when he drags his tongue from one breast to the next. As soon as he latches on to your other nipple, you feel like your back snaps in two when you arch so fast. 

His groans whoosh around your skin when he keeps pleasuring you, and you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each flick of his tongue. You know you’re seeping onto his sheets by now, but you don’t care in the slightest.

This can’t be happening. Just his mouth on your chest is almost enough to drive you to the edge again? God. It would be an absolute embarrassment if you came from this alone. 

But you just might. Holy fuck, you might.

When Yoongi mercifully releases you, he slowly hovers above your heaving chest, watching it rise and fall and covered in his saliva. “Still so sensitive,” he murmurs, and you huff in return. 

“Let me go,” you plead.

“Hmmm.” After looking away and making his necklace sway between your tits, he arrives at an annoying conclusion. “No.” 

“Please!” You wrestle in his grip, and feel your skin reacting to the way he watches your chest bounce with your struggle. Fuck, you’re so turned on and he knows it. But the conflict is ripe with the way you want him to keep pinning you down, and the way you want to launch yourself at him. “I wanna feel you.” 

Yoongi responds by thrusting himself against your core, and a moan flies out of your throat. Oh, god, he is impossibly hard. How is he controlling himself? How has he not rushed to slam his cock inside you yet? 

He really is focused on you and you alone. 

“There.” 

“No!” You squeeze your wrists tight while moving again, caught up in a whirlwind of pleasure and feelings and emotions you don’t want to name. “I mean, yes, but—”

Yoongi laughs before diving to attack your neck, and your body goes into overdrive as he keeps lapping and kissing there, too. Your legs quake underneath his as moans flow from your throat more freely than ever.

“Please,” you finally sigh with eyes shut and heart open. “I can’t wait anymore, baby. I need you.” 

“Never thought you’d ask.” 

Abruptly, he slides his chest to the side, pressing his beautiful body over you to retrieve a condom. While he rummages through his drawer, you glide your freed hands up his chest, noticing with intrigue when he hisses as your nails rake over his nipples. 

Mm. Noting that for later.

When he kneels to slide a condom on, you watch him with reverence, wanting to tell him everything that you’ve wanted to say but were too shy to before now. 

But now, you’re drunk on lust. Lust and something more and you’re throwing all previous caution to the wind. Because this man deserves as much praise as he’s giving you. You’re just regretful that it’s taken this long to realize that. 

“You’re so hot,” you whisper, letting go. 

And Yoongi smirks while the tiniest huff of amusement leaves him. 

Wait. 

Was that a hint of shyness? That doesn’t seem characteristic of him. “Thanks,” he simply responds as he widens your spent legs to position himself in between. 

Oh, no. Hell no. He’s not brushing you off when you mean every word you say. “I mean it.” You watch him with furrowed brows, still nervous but incredibly determined. “You keep saying I’m attractive, but… You’re just not fair.” 

Yoongi’s smile beams onto your prone form as he leans down to seal his lips onto yours, and you don’t miss how he’s avoiding responding through words this time. 

And somehow, you’re more attracted to him now than you’ve ever been.

“Careful,” he murmurs right against your mouth. “Don’t gas me up too much.” 

“I dunno,” you respond with a little smirk of your own, feeling like you have the upper hand and thinking it’s quite enjoyable. “I think you like it.” 

“You know what else I like?” 

As he slides his cock along your folds, your upper hand is deftly lost. Gone. Fallen to the wayside. But you don’t care. You’re ready. “I like that, too.”

Yoongi’s stare burns through your cheeks as he asks, “And what else do you like, doll.”

Fuck. He wants to talk about this now? Your teeth catch your bottom lip. “I…”

“Hmm?” Grabbing his cock in one hand, he lightly slaps it rapidly against your cunt, causing whimpers to tumble from your open mouth. 

God, you love that. And so much more. 

You wanna tell him these things, but you’re so embarrassed. Just like before, all you need to do is speak your mind, but the words just. Won’t. Come out. 

Screw it. 

Digging deep, you seize your shyness by the throat and force yourself to talk. Yoongi is doing the fucking most for you, so you can at least offer him this much. 

“Your hands.” 

The widened eyes you get are quickly covered by blinks. “...My hands?”

“No, your toes.” 

A snort. 

“But also… I liked what you called me before.”

Yoongi leans down to softly kiss along your clavicle, and it’s enough to calm your nerves and relax your tongue. “Before?”

“You know… Like different names.”

“Mm.” 

“So…” You turn your head to grant him more access to your throat. “Stuff like that.” 

“Stuff like that, huh? What, you want…” He shifts up to put his mouth right against your ear, and his rasp drags across your very soul and sets it on fire, 

“...You wanna be my cumslut?” 

Fuck. 

Shivers erupt in your body. Breaths suddenly come out short. Everything in you springs to life but freezes all at once. Oh, fuck. You’re trembling.

“You do, don’t you?” You can feel rather than see the devilish smirk on his face, and it buries itself in his words. “Dirty girl.” 

Just like that, the shyness is back with a vengeance, blown out like a choked flame. Your mind is thrown into a manic frenzy and you don’t know what to do with the chaos taking it over.

Yoongi laughs slow at your sudden silence. “Say it then.” 

What the fuck! “Yoongi…” 

“Uh uh. Say it.” 

As he slides his cock along your folds, you wince at the wide head but welcome the burn. How is he still able to control himself? You’re a goddamn mess. “I wanna be…” 

“Mmhmm.” 

Fuck it. Say it! 

“Wanna be your cumslut,” you whisper, burying your head into the junction of his shoulder immediately afterwards. Embarrassment floods your body, only to be ignited when Yoongi’s high staccato laughs rumble your bones. 

“Not bad,” he comments, slapping the side of your ass. “We’ll get you there.” 

Frustration leaks out of your mouth as you completely miss what he means by that. “I don’t know what it is,” you groan. “I wanna say things but they just.. Don’t wanna come out.” 

“You say it like that’s a bad thing.” 

“It isn’t?” 

Yoongi leans back to finally face you head on. “Nothing you’re doing is bad. You just haven’t done it enough.” He squeezes your hip before shooting you a wink. “Amateur.” 

“Fuck you.” 

That seems to catch him off guard because his laugh is quick. “Yes, please,” he groans. 

“Okay,” you assure, fully relaxed now that a lot of your thoughts have been laid out. Admitting some things you’ve wanted to say for months makes you feel good. More than good. Especially since Yoongi didn’t judge you for a single one. “Do it.” 

“Say less.” 

When he enters, your inhale is sharp. But you remember to relax this time, allowing yourself to breathe immediately while he slowly buries himself to the hilt. 

Both of your moans are enough to fill his entire room. 

Damn, you feel full. So, so full. Impossibly so.

With a quick drop of his head, Yoongi hisses an admission to your chest, “Fuck, I’ve missed this pussy.” 

And you can only whine in response. You’re already fluttering around him, eyes surely darkened to hell and back. The way he fills you is perfect and you don’t know how you’ve gone this long without feeling him lodged inside of you. For a moment, you feel like this is exactly how things are supposed to be. 

You wonder if Yoongi feels any semblance of the same thing.

“So tight,” he grits out, teeth clenched behind his lips as he starts to thrust upward. 

“Fuck!” You throw your head back on pure instinct, your hands snapping to his bulging biceps and squeezing. “Feels so good.” 

“Shit, baby.” Yoongi picks up the pace immediately, and you’re loving how you can finally see him break. 

That’s the Yoongi you want. You want to see him at his worst just as he wants the same for you. It’s this thought alone that has you quick to command, “Faster. Harder. Please, Yoongi, fuck me harder.” 

“Fuck.” 

Raising his body, he sets himself on the balls of his feet, hauling you onto his thighs. With a whine, you melt at the sight of his naked body, abs rolling with each breath and chest that same shade of fluster and effort. Sweat coats his brow as he looks at himself sliding out of your split legs, and he grabs your hips before proclaiming through a gravelly laugh, 

“Gonna fuck you stupid.” 

Before slamming himself back inside. 

The yell you release is the loudest you’ve been, and Yoongi’s the epitome of satisfied as he launches into a devilish pace. “That’s right, baby girl,” he growls before biting his lip and furrowing his brows. “Scream like a slut for me.” 

“Fuck! Yoongi!” 

The new position has you mewling as his cock buries inside your folds again and again. Jitters occupy every inch of your body as your limbs go limp and your jaw goes slack. With each penetration, you feel yourself floating higher and higher off the bed. You’re never touching ground again. Forever levitation is your new plane of existence. 

“Touch those tits for me,” he demands, voice rough with exertion.

And you slide your fingers in your mouth before doing so, catching his attention immediately and making him groan out your name.

“What the fuck.” 

You hum while still licking your salty digits, popping them out of your lips before groping both of your breasts at once. The hiss you get in return sets butterflies free to roam your belly. 

Because you wanted to be much nastier the next time you saw him. Giving him that new evidence he didn’t have until now. Yoongi doesn’t know about the times you pleasured yourself while thinking of him, trying your hardest to recall every touch he left on and in your body.

You want him to remember you. No second guessing this part. You’ve had many, many nights to think about it. 

After a roll of your chest, you squeeze your tits together, loving how you have every ounce of Yoongi’s attention as he stutters inside of you. When he throws his head back with a grunt, you gnaw on your lip and wonder if you’re going to rub it to hell. 

Snapping his gaze back to you, Yoongi suddenly lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, holding you by your ankle while keeping his relentless pace. Your lust is so loud that you almost don’t hear him, 

“You been practicing, huh.”  

It takes you a few seconds to lie, “No.”

“Liar.”

A laugh. “Caught me.” 

“I’ll always catch you,” Yoongi says offhandedly as he keeps pounding into you, leaning forward and hitting a spot that rolls your eyes back for a brief moment. His breath is short and his teeth clamp down on his lower lip as he grits out, “Fuck!” 

When your legs start to shake, Yoongi lets them drop, falling down to kiss you like his life depends on it. 

Thrumming with want, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. 

Even though this time is completely different from the first, you’re enjoying it all the same. Possibly even more so after all the events of last night and today. It almost feels…

Fuck! 

Yoongi’s next thrust proves incredibly deep, tantalizingly slow, and he grabs at your hip before changing his angle, hitting a spot that has both of you groaning in tandem. 

“Yoongi…” You kiss him again because you simply missed him so fucking much—not possibly because of anything else. 

And your hunger is matched when he presses his lips down at the same time he launches your body back. 

Your cunt pulses around his cock as he continues to go slow, and it’s a sensation you can get used to. The telltale energy inside of you starts its winding, tighter and tighter as he keeps sliding his body along yours. 

It’s after he suddenly decides to shove his cock all the way in that you yelp. And when Yoongi doesn’t move an inch, your pulses quicken just as your breath does because what the fuck why does this feel so good? Why do you feel every sense heightened and like you can come any second? 

“This feels… Oh, fuck—”

“Holy shit.”

“Oh, shit, I’m cl—” You don’t understand! How can it feel this good when he’s not even doing anything? Fucking hell, your cunt is milking him at an alarming pace and you’re almost at your climax already. You’re gonna come. You're gonna and it’s approaching fast. “I’m so close!”

“I feel you, babe, fuck!” 

You can’t take it anymore. 

Breaking, you let go. 

“I’m coming,” you whine, your body shattering with your orgasm and a multitude of feelings sprinting from your center. It’s almost blinding how good it feels, and you hear Yoongi groaning words above you but you have no fucking clue what they are because you’re so gone. Absolutely lost. Your lips only chant his name. Because your mind doesn't have the occupancy for anything else. 

“Holy shit,” Yoongi hisses as you continue to squeeze around him, and with a cloudy mind, you think he’s actually coming, too. But you aren’t quite sure because your body is frozen while your cunt feels molten with waves of heat. Oh, god, are you still clenching? Holy fuck.

Then.

Bit by bit. 

You float back to the ground. Settling into damp sheets and feeling like a human again—a human wracked with exhaustion and satiated completely. There’s a burden on your chest, but you welcome it. You welcome it all, because it’s him.

Peeling open eyes you didn’t even know were closed, you only see Yoongi’s head resting on your chest, bright hair tickling the side of your face. 

Your voice comes out cracked with continued use as you huff, “Holy shit.” 

Yoongi’s puff of amusement rolls down your shoulder. “Yeah.” 

“What the hell even was that.” 

“I don’t know.” 

Unwittingly, you bring a hand up to caress his hair. “I’ve never come that hard.” 

“Same.” 

The tiny laugh you expel is because you don’t believe him, but you don’t say anything more. Lying here is precious and riddled with too many traps you can fall into. So you absentmindedly run your damp fingers through his strands, breathing settling into a normal pace.

You can’t move because he’s still weighing you down, but you aren’t gonna be the first to say anything. No. You’re going to stay in this tiny moment forever until he kicks you out. 

So his next breathy statement throws you completely off-guard,

“Never gonna be convinced.” 

The implication behind those words makes you outright laugh, and you can feel Yoongi’s cheeks grow with a hidden smile. 

After you change into the clothes that Yoongi lends you, your steps cross back into his bedroom. 

Instead of lying down passed out like last time, he’s now leaned against his headboard, typing away on his phone while the TV next to his desk provides the only light in the room.

You’re wondering what he could be doing when he suddenly turns to you. His eyes roam over your body before he asks, “What do you feel like eating?” 

“Oh,” you blink, not knowing that you were going to stay even longer. This day just keeps getting stranger and stranger, but in the best way. “Mmm. Surprise me.” 

Yoongi grins before turning back to his device, the glow on his face a mix of moving blues and white. “If you hate it, it’s your fault.” 

“I mean, I can eat later.” 

“Well, I’m gonna order. So eat with me.” 

“Or else what?” 

Challenges always seem to get his most immediate responses. You smile inwardly as he cocks a brow your way. “You wanna go there?”

“Maybe.”

“Goddamn. At least gimme an hour or two.” 

“For what?” 

Yoongi slowly aims a smirk at the television instead of you. “Nothing, doll.” 

Nerves quelled by whatever the hell you just did, you walk your sore legs to his bed. Deciding to join him against his headboard, you keep a respectable, annoying distance away while you halfway pay attention to whatever show is on. 

Yoongi decides on something to get, and he puts his phone down before quietly watching alongside you. 

Curious and breaking the silence, you ask, “Have you seen this?” 

“No.”

“Neither have I.” 

“Heard it was good.”

“I heard it was trash.”

Yoongi blows amusement through his nose, and the atmosphere settles into one of comfort as you both wait for the food. 

You ask more about his many hair colors, and he tells you stories that you don’t know about. They mostly involve your brother—because why wouldn’t they?—but some of them don’t. 

These are the ones that intrigue you the most. Because they’re pieces of his life that he decides to share with you for your own entertainment. Not simply because your brother was present. 

When the food comes, you join Yoongi at his table and rave about how it’s something you haven’t had in forever, digging right in and not caring about the laughs aimed your way. The conversation from before flows right into this room, moving from topic to topic until you bring up something he mentioned earlier. 

“So… About that practice.” 

Yoongi raises a brow, mouth full but in a smirk nonetheless. After he swallows, he teases, “Look at you. I knew you were lying.”

“It wasn’t practicing if they just happened.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…” You think back to the times you’re about to mention, shaking your head and wanting to hide instead of spilling. Why did you even bring this up? Why are you going to tell him secrets he doesn’t really have to know? “My friend took me to some bougie club downtown. Joji, I think? I dunno, things just happened.” 

Yoongi stares at you for seconds, unblinking, before taking a bite. 

Tearing your embarrassed gaze from him and onto your food instead, you continue, “Then another time was some guy I knew from uni but. That didn’t last.”

Leaning back into his chair, Yoongi stuffs both hands into his sweats. “You seem pretty chill about it all now.”

“I am, actually,” you smile, lifting your eyes back to him. “‘Cus of you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now I know what I want.” 

“Good,” Yoongi says, looking into his living room. You wonder what’s on his mind before he turns back to you with a joking expression. “Now let’s work on you asking for it.” 

“Fuck you,” you laugh. “That part is gonna take a lot longer.”

“It’s adorable.”  

“Well, so are you when you’re tired. So we’re even.” 

Silence. 

Complete silence blankets the room, and you feel its effect immediately. The look on Yoongi’s face is priceless, and you have to hold your tongue when he asks,

“Huh?” 

Your smile grows and grows. “Did I say something?” 

And your name slips out of his mouth in warning, but you’re so giddy that he has no clue that you keep teasing. “Mm. Not telling.” 

Yoongi pushes his finished bowl away from him, staring at you all the while. “You’re gonna.”

“Nope.” 

“Try it.” 

“Nu uh.” 

“Do—”

“Nope! You won’t get anything outta me!” In a rush, you bolt from your empty plate and back into his room. 

But this time, unlike after your stunt in the kitchen, Yoongi’s already right behind you and grabbing your waist, laughing darkly and warning,

“You better fess up or else.”

“Or what, hu—” 

Tickling? Cheater! 

You jerk forward with a yelp, hating him for getting you so easily. “No! Yoongi!”

“All you gotta do is tell me.”

“No!”

“Real simple, doll.” 

“I’ll never tell!” 

Used to all the times you’ve wrestled your brother, you deftly twist your arms around in an attempt to catch him off-guard, going for his body behind you. 

“Fuck!” Yoongi shoots out before hissing in amusement, jerking when your fingers connect with one of his thighs. You use the opening to wriggle a bit out, but he’s quick to recover and goes for your weak spots again, holding your arms down as you both struggle with puffs of strained effort and laughter. 

He’s ticklish. Yoongi is ticklish. 

Good to know. 

“You’re gonna regret that,” he cautions in your ear.

“I know your weakness now, old man,” you cackle back, “You can’t hurt m—No!” 

Mirth bursts from your mouth when he attacks both your sides at the same time. You try to wiggle out of his grip, but the backs of your knees hit against the edge of his bed, causing you to fold and bring him down.

When the two of you hit the mattress with a small puff, there’s an extended period of quiet as you settle your heartbeats. Only the sounds of your breathing could be heard, unless your thoughts are so loud that they reach him. Dear god, you really hope they don’t. Yoongi doesn’t ever need to know what you’re thinking and feeling right now.

Finally, his voice cuts through the air, 

“You’re so weird.”

“Thanks,” you chirp. “You’re ticklish.” 

“Fuck off.” Yoongi looks toward his ceiling while bending an arm behind his head. “I hate it.” 

It’s such a normal, human thing to be, but maybe that’s exactly why his statements make you laugh. Because you’re starting to realize how normal and human he really is. The image you have of him is being torn apart and reconstructed into something real, and what’s real is more magical than your imagination. 

Ignoring the pang in your chest, you laugh, “It’s not like you have to deal with that every day.”

“I dunno now with you around.”

…What? 

No. 

Don’t overthink that. 

“Oh, yes,” you respond with a giggle. “Now you really have to avoid me at parties.”

But Yoongi doesn’t respond to you out loud, only a small huff leaving his nose. 

…Did you say something wrong? 

A slight wave of panic starts to swell in your mind, but it doesn’t gain traction because you hear a soft, 

“How much longer?” 

Confused, you turn to face him, admiring his side profile and wishing yours looked half as nice. “For what?”

Yoongi pushes up on his side, peering down at your prone form from behind loose orange locks. His words send tingles down your spine, 

“How much longer do I get you?”

You wonder why he says it like that. Why does he sound so… different? Apprehensive? 

It’s almost like he thinks you don’t want to stay. 

Are you giving him that impression? 

Because you want to stay, but you also don’t want to overstay. After all, you work tomorrow, and you didn’t bring most of the things you need for bedtime when you left. Because why would you have? You had no idea you would be able to spend this much time with him. 

Deciding to address his question and not his tone, you prepare a response. The rational side of you wins, but you aren’t happy about it. “I gotta wake up early tomorrow… And I kinda need to make up for everything I didn’t get to do last night. To get ready.” 

“Mm.”

“And I don’t wanna overstay…”

“Hmm.”

He starts sliding a hand over the second of his shirts that drape over your body today, lightly palming a breast before slipping his fingers up your throat. 

You sigh under his touch. “So… an hour?” 

“That long?”

You hear the sheets move as Yoongi moves his head down, and you feel the slight tickle of his bangs as he places a kiss on your neck. You let out a soft moan with each pass, tilting to the side to give him more of you than you should. And extra.

When he speaks, his voice burns your ear, forcing your eyes shut and your mouth open.

“Then good luck walking outta here.” 

It’s two hours later that you’re in Yoongi’s car, headed to an empty house with a mind filled to the brim. 

Your entire body is going to be sore come morning, but you don’t care in the slightest. Everything was worth it. You don’t think the events of this weekend will ever leave the treasure chest you decide to lock them inside. 

When you pull up to your house, you instinctively scan the area, hating that you have to be so alert. Hating that the two of you have to be so careful. 

Back to reality you go.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything when you look around, but when you’re about to open your door, he speaks, 

“Listen.”

Turning, you tense, really, really hoping that he’s not going to drop a ball on you after one of the best days of your life. “Hmm?” 

“This is just for the week, got it?” 

Huh? 

The week? 

You blink. “What is?” 

Yoongi looks down at his lap before prodding a cheek with his tongue. When you wait for him to elaborate, he simply fishes for something in his pocket and lazily holds it out for you. 

And you can only stare, and stare, and stare some more.

A key.

A fucking key. 

Your brain overflows with more thoughts than you can handle, and for a split second you literally cannot form words. Your hands tighten around your bag and the door handle and your heart most definitely skipped multiple beats. The only thing you can finally say is a shock-laden, disbelieving, “Yoongi, what the fuck?” 

He ignores your question entirely, his eyes focused on you instead of the object of your disarray. “I don’t know how the next few days are gonna go, but. Use it whenever.”

What the fuck is happening. Literally what. Wh—. You have no words. “I don’t…” 

“It’s just a key, doll. Don’t overthink it.” 

“I”—you nod, softly taking the spare from his rough hands and gripping it in your fingers—“Okay.” 

“Find something that makes you happy.”

“Huh?”

Yoongi sets a forearm on his steering wheel, and your gaze snaps to the veins running along its smooth road. “A job. Or whatever. It’ll make a difference.”

You nod, head packed with information and wondering where this is coming from all of a sudden. Maybe he’s referring to all the job hunting you were doing today. “You’re right.”

“I’m always right.” Yoongi gives you and his spare a final look. “Just text me if you end up using it.”

Nodding, you blink before responding with a low, “I will. Good night, Yoongi.” 

With this unbelievable slew of events that cap off an exhilarating day, you leave his car and walk up the path to your house. It isn’t until you unlock your place and step inside that you turn around to see Yoongi waiting, only leaving when you acknowledge him from your entryway. 

After he drives off into the night, you can only stand in place, quietly shutting your door and slipping your bag from your shoulder.

Staring at the key he gave you. 

…Yeah.

What’s that you said about fireworks again? 

Right.

You might be in trouble. 

-

-

-

tbc. (: 

A/N: AHHH OK SO. HI EVERYONE! i wanted this drop to be a surprise mwahahah. whether you’re a long time regular or super new to the 3tan fam, welcome welcome :D hopefully i at least met your expectations with this one and that it was a fun installment! i told yall that i love you T^T A/N 2: i am literally so excited to hear everyone’s thoughts i’ve been itching to post this for days now LOL not to mention i literally wrote 5,000 words last night so that i could get this out for yall... *sobs* and yoongi... i can’t believe him still lol. i was gonna drop the studio spoilers after his vlive bc they were fitting but sdlkjf i held back bc i wanted all of that to be a surprise. A/N 3: anyways! thank you so much for all of the support. i think about yall every single day and hope i keep doing this series justice. thank you endlessly for reading and may a water fight with yoongi be in your future :D  ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ ⇥ masterlist ++ up next….. a possible surprise gift :’)))

[ptergwen]

If you do smut can you do like stark!reader x peter parker (spiderman) are dating 3-4 month and y/n and peter had their very fluff first time then next morning y/n has hickies all over her neck and her thights stomach... and tony/ her dad sees it and is confronting them with it😂 i love your stories 🤤

just saying hi

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: veryyyy suggestive, swearing, some pretty embarrassing moments

a/n: thank you babe! i didn’t write the actual smut but y’all can guess what happened 😭 also this is super long i couldn’t help myself

-

it was everything. it was everything you ever wanted your first time to be and more.

you’d brought up to peter during a make out session one night that you were ready to go farther than you two already have. there was one base you didn’t hit yet. the fourth, the final. you were thinking about it for a while before that, and peter would be lying if he said he didn’t.

your love has always been physical, whether it’s you kissing peter’s cuts after a mission or him tracing hearts on you with his fingers. there’s also the more sexual side of things. that part, you both enjoy just as much, maybe even a little more because you know exactly how to make each other feel good after all the trial and error.

what better way to combine the two than, well, making love?

last night was your sign from the universe, your go ahead to do it. you had the compound to yourselves because your dad had taken all the “big kids” out for the night. you’re both well into college, but he refuses to see you as adults. that meant no peter and no you. you two were a little offended until you realized you could make use of your alone time.

you started off searching for a movie. that turned into you wrestling peter for the remote because you didn’t feel like watching back to the furure yet again. wrestling turned into you on top of him, which turned into you kissing him, which turned into peter throwing the remote somewhere and carrying you up to your room with his lips still on yours.

neither of you had to say it. you were on the same page, same wavelength, two brains in one as peter layed you down and trailed his kisses lower and lower.

peter was so gentle with you, except for when you told him not to be. those were the times he didn’t hold back. he was attentive and sweet and showed you quite a few times how much he loves you. you showed him just the same. yeah, it was really everything.

“morning, baby. you awake yet?” peter hums against the shell of your ear, arms wound comfortably around you. “kinda,” you mumble back with a goofy smile. he presses his lips to your ear and nuzzles his face in the side of your neck. “kinda... how’d you sleep?” you can hear the grin in his voice. his nose nudges your bare skin where a fresh hickey lies and makes you scrunch your own up.

“good, really good. always love sleeping with you.” you’re both aware of the alternate meaning that has now. “funny,” peter lets out a breathy laugh against you and brushes his thumb over your stomach where your shirt got ridden up. you sigh, enjoying his soft touch and reaching behind you to play with his curls. they’re a lot messier than usual from you tugging on them all last night.

peter removes his face from your neck and carefully turns you onto your other side. you’re facing him now, eyes trained on his concerned expression. “hey, just wanna check. how are you feeling? still sore?” a tiny smile stretches your face. he really does care about you and how you feel after everything. you know for a fact most other guys wouldn’t.

“i mean, yeah. you were... it was a lot, but i’ll be fine in a few days i think.” the mention of peter being a lot makes color rush to his face. you laugh quietly at that, cupping one of his cheeks that’s turning pink. “oh. i, um, i didn’t know that. sorry.” he smiles shyly as you smooth your thumb over his warm skin. “don’t be. it wasn’t as bad after i... adjusted a little,” you reassure him, making him lean into your palm.

“i really am sorry, y/n/n. can i make it up to you?” peter checks with you, eyes going up from yours to down your body. he hooks a finger in the waistband of your pajama shorts. “make you feel better?” the way he finishes his question with a bite of his lip is definitely tempting. so is your stomach yelling at you to put some food in it. you’ll have to wait.

“later. right now, you can make me breakfast,” you beam at him and take his hand. peter pushes his palm against yours, letting you lace your fingers together as he puffs some air out of his cheeks. “yeah, that’s gonna go well.” “i’m supervising. it will.” you capture his lips in a kiss, one he instantly reciprocates, free hand resting on your hip. just as it’s heating up, you break it.

“i’m hungry for actual food,” you giggle and roll out of his embrace. “ok, ok, ok. let’s go see what we have,” peter gives in with a chuckle, grabbing the same hand he was just holding and following you down to the kitchen.

he ends up popping some frozen waffles into the toaster, you sitting up on the counter with your phone out while he struggles through the different settings. “should i put it on bake? no, that doesn’t sound right,” he talks to himself with eyes squinted in concentration. “your dad made this thing so... detailed.” it’s an old stark industries toaster, one with options you probably don’t even need.

“yeah because he loves his toast, so maybe don’t break it. he’ll kill you or something,” you half playfully half seriously suggest. peter is one clumsy guy. he tsks at you and crouches down to read the words on the dial. there’s conveniently a setting for waffles, so he hits that one. he’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed it before.

since he’s down there, he takes one of your ankles in both hands and starts to kiss up your leg. it tickles when he gets to your knee, drawing a giggle out of you, but your phone still blocks his face. you’re doing it on purpose. “baby,” peter tries to get your attention in a soft voice. he presses a couple more kisses to your knee. you have to hold your breath so you don’t laugh again.

“baby girllll,” peter drags out, lips moving up your thigh. he nudges your phone with his nose much like a puppy would. “aye, i’m talkin’ to you here,” he says in a fake new york accent. you finally put it down next to you. “i’m listening.” you’re giving him a satisfied smile as he goes back to kissing you.

“just saying hi,” he looks up at you and moves your shorts aside while he kisses further and further to where you want. you scoot closer to him on the counter.

that’s when he stops. not only stops, gasps in horror. “what?” you ask quickly, his eyes fixed on your inner thighs. “i kind of, uh, marked you up. like, a lot.” he runs a finger gently over the bruised skin. you’re suddenly very aware of it now. it doesn’t exactly hurt, just feels bumpy and weird. you peer down at yourself to see the damage, eyes going wide.

“shit... they’re on my neck, too,” you remember, murmuring to him. you’ll have to cover these up before everyone gets home. worry flashes across peter’s face. “oh my god, i didn’t even realize. it- it was dark and you told me-“ “pete, it’s okay. it’s pretty hot,” you stop his rambling, reaching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. he frowns up at you.

“really? are you sure i didn’t go too far? because you can tell me.” you’ve always appreciated how much peter genuienly values your thoughts on things, in the bedroom and in other parts of your relationship. it does lead to a lot of second guessing, though. you squeeze his shoulder and let out a breath. “i’m sure, okay? it’s really not that serious. i’ll just change so no one can see.”

peter winds an arm around one of your legs, body relaxing ever so slightly under your touch. “okay.” he gives your thigh one final kiss, then rests his chin on it. “what about your neck?” “uh...” you hadn’t considered that yet. “makeup? a scarf?” you’ve seen enough tv to know neither of those work, but they’re your only options.

“yup. mr. stark is really gonna kill me now,” peter says under his breath, tensing up all over again. you furrow your eyebrows at him. “what? we’re literally grown adults, we can do whatever we want-“

tony claps loudly as he steps into the kitchen, announcing his return home. peter jumps up from between your legs faster than fast. he moves so he’s next to you, and you hop down from the counter.

“hello, daughter of mine. spider of man,” your dad greets you two, you pulling down your shorts with a plastered on smile. “or would it be man of spider?” he plucks an apple from the bowl on the table as he ponders his question. steve and wanda file into the room next. “second one,” peter replies, grinning a little too much to be normal. tony takes note of that.

wanda comes over to the fridge for a snack, which is close to where you and peter are. “how was last night?” you ask her to take the attention off you two. wanda settles on a yogurt and turns to you. “it was good. we shared a few hotel rooms, had our own party.” she glances over at peter, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “seems like you two had a fun night of your own.”

peter’s mouth drops open. “how did you-“ he forgot she could read his mind and now knows everything that happened. you slap a hand over your forehead. “you couldn’t think about anything else? for, like, a minute?” you whisper yell at him. he uses his eyes to plead with you. “i’m sorry! i was looking at the hickeys-“ he realizes what he’s saying. “crap.”

shooting you a wink, wanda shuts the fridge and goes to join the rest of the team in the living room. lucky for you and peter, steve started lecturing tony about washing his fruit before he eats it. he didn’t hear any of that. there’s still the problem of your visible hickeys that you have zero seconds to hide.

“how the fuck am i supposed to cover these? they’re right in the center, peter!” you panic, your heart starting to race as peter fumbles for a dish towel. that’s the best he could come up with? “no!” you toss it back at him. he throws it on the counter with a pained look. tony and steve make their way over to you.

“oh, hush. a couple of deadly pesticides won’t shake me, stevey boy,” tony insists and takes another big bite of his apple. steve huffs in disapproval and crosses his arms. “you’re a big baby, tony. if you’re not gonna do the right thing, at least buy organic-“ with the world’s longest sigh, tony chucks his apple into the open garbage can.

“there. no more apple discourse.” steve shakes his head at your dad’s behavior. “that was a waste. you could’ve finished it.” “not with your nagging into my literal ear.” steve raises his hands in surrender before making his way out of the kitchen. tony side steps past him and over to you. “enough of that now. let’s have a welcome home hug from my girl.”

you share a look with peter, a look of pure fear that’s in both of your eyes. he’ll definitely notice the hickeys if he gets that close to you. he holds out his arms expectantly while peter scratches the back of his own neck. “sure, dad. welcome home.” an awkward smile on your lips, you bury your face in your dad’s chest and wrap your arms around him in one motion. this way, he didn’t have time to see you from too close up.

peter exhales in relief at the narrowly avoided disaster. that’s until tony makes a request. “missed me that much, kiddo, huh? come out of there.” “but, i’m so comfortable. i wanna stay like this,” you insist, a niceness to your voice tony immediately sees through. he drops his arms from around you, eyeing peter suspiciously, who averts his gaze to the floor.

“nuh uh, you did something. both of you,” your dad states, taking a step to stand between you and peter. peter gulps down a breath before speaking. “mr. stark, it was-“ tony holds up a hand. “don’t worry, kid. i’ll figure it out.”

he gives peter a proper stare, searching him for clues of some sort. it’s a good thing he isn’t wanda because the details of your night would have been exposed. he couldn’t find anything, so now it’s your turn. he’s a little disappointed you’re the one hiding something.

“oh, y/n. not you,” tony sighs as he gives you a looking over. he starts with your face, your eyes following down as his do. it’s when he gets just past your chin that he sees them. the little hickeys littering your skin, some already deep shades of purple. he rips off his glasses in disbelief.

“absolutely not.” he closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with the same hand his glasses are in. “i’m not seeing this. i’m not seeing this if i don’t look.” you scoff at his reaction. “dad, you know we’re together. you can’t expect us to not...” “don’t say it,” tony begs, getting the urge to hurl his half eaten apple. he turns and faces peter.

“parker, you really did all of that?” peter only blinks, nervously meeting the eyes of his mentor. “to my daughter?” tony adds on to scare him even more. “i- i-“ a burst of frustration comes out of peter. “you left two teenagers alone the whole night. what’d you think was gonna happen?” he’s shocked at his own words, his face showing it. tony raises his eyebrows. both your hands cover your mouth.

not wanting to deal with peter, tony addresses you instead. “i don’t care how you do it, cover those up. don’t let me see them ever again. understood?” you nod a good amount of times and reach for peter’s hand. he’s about to give it, then tony glares down at what’s happening. peter pulls back immediatelty. “understood. we’ll, um, do better next time,” you agree, tony winching at the idea of a next time.

“you, parker... treat a lady with a little more respect, eh?” tony clicks his tongue at him. he’s referring to all the hickeys. peter’s lips form a line, a sarcastic one that says oh well. “i tried, mr. stark, but y/n wanted me to-“ “christ, that’s enough.” tony furiously shakes his head and starts to walk away from you two. “never again!”

you’re thanking god when he sets off for the living room, you hiding your face in peter’s chest, his face in your hair. “that was terrible. that was the worst thing ever,” you say into him. “i’m sorry, baby. we gotta be more careful.”

it’s not over yet because then, the toaster dings. you’d completely forgotten about the waffles. you and peter both separate with your millionth shared look of terror. tony comes rushing back into the room, very familiar with that noise.

“first you destroy my daughter, now my toaster? pete... you’re in for it, kid.”

[orchidyoonkook]

LASTONELASTONE!! I did it! and within the promised time frame too, look at me go! (Im taking any wins atm, please dont mind me)

ONTO!

why am i sobbing right now 😭😭😭😭 this was so fluffy this hang out ahhhhhh yoon it was adorable 😩😩🥺🥺🥹😭🥹😭🥹😭🥹

I love them i love them i love them. I LOVE THEM. I love how easy they are with one another, how effortless and thoughtless and easy.

oc and jungkook literally have my heart at this point i mean i am speechless the fact that she made this so special for him and he was looking out for her during the exams and the freaking gift i can't stop sobbing 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

One thing about OC is that if she can create some solstice magic for somebody, she absolutely will. She's like me in the sense that she thinks holidays should be celebrated for their true intentions, and that no one should be denied that magic.

I love that he can't help it either, like it physically pains him to see her like that so he's compelled to help. He's such a good man, that JK.

THE GIFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT. OH I WAS SO STOKED FOR THAT. I love that he did it, I love the thought that went into it. That he noticed she has older brushes, 'lower' (but still good) quality brushes, brushes that look like theyve been used to much, and he used that information and just automatically decided that her passions and talent deserved the best instead of the best she could get herself. That he didn't think twice about the price of the gift because money has never been an issue for him, but he thought about the gifts impact and how it could help her achieve her dreams.

i think about his gift versus her unintentional on and their contrast a lot. I really enjoyed writing them.

so it was a mix of sobs turns blushes because of that muscle use talk hey (what a switch up)

sobbing and blushing with you!

And I like a lil spice with my fluff, what can I say. Balance is nice. I also like the natual growth of conversation, in a way that's expressed with a game of wits that turns into more trust and respect by the end of it. That's a complicated sentence, I hope that makes sense. XD

but omg the tree and the star (yoon how adorable you actually make those i love it that little add you did there)

I did! second year of college yoon wanted a christmas tree in her dorm real bad, so she went to her local dollarstore and got a little one and little baubles to match. But they didnt have tree toppers! So i took a cereal box out of my recycling bin, cut out a star, glued tin foil to the bitch and put'er on top of my baby tree. I still have and use it to this day. She remains super cute and festive.

and they are hugging now look it's one step closer to a kiss i will take it

I personally find hugs to be more intimate and passionate then kissing when done within the right context. A kiss? you can kiss anyone and have it mean nothing. But a hug? To be held? An embrace where you just hold another person because of the emotions your feeling can only be expressed tactiley like that? Hits different for me.

i can't get over how fluffy and homey this was and with the bodyguard too it just captured my heart i love this chapter it's definitely in my top 10 PJK moments (basically it's every interaction they have that's why it's 10 you get it) 🥹

THE GUARDS. MY BABIES. I love the guards, I love their positive masculine energy, I love that JK has them, and I love that they like OC. He's a little brother almost to most of them, they're the kind of older brothers who clearly aren't afraid to give their little bro shit, but are also his biggest cheerleaders when it counts. I just. I love my guards. I was so excited to introduce them finally.

holy shit top ten!!!!!! I'm honoured, flattered and in dire need of that list in ranked order so we can geek out together. (also so i can compare the current list to the list when the series if finished.)

(also also that is of course, not a request, only a "if you ever wanted to do so, I would be more than willing to read and geek")

and now they won't see each other over solstice i wonder how that's going to go i just know the texts are not gonna stop flowing i can not wait to see why happens in chapter 10

Chapter ten is currently 13.1k. :)

And in a slightly different format. But only slightly. You'll see what I mean when it's released <3

yoon please give a spoiler like a minor one okay give us a line a quote something please 🥹🖤

👀👀👀👀

Picasso [3:24pm]: Hey, if I wanted to mail you something while ur home, how would I do that??

👀👀👀👀

yoon you know i adore you and seeing how you have grown as a writer is the most beautiful thing and i just know you are going to do so many more great things i want you know i am here always and i adore you, your happiness means the world to me and i hope you are smiling and your days are filled with happiness - kiki 🖤

You know? I thought it was raining from how wet my face and clothes were, but it was actually just the ocean of tears this just made me shed in a downpour.

I can never, and will never be able to tell you how important reviews and humans like you are to me in particular, but to writers and creatives out there who do what I do. There is no us without you. I will say it in every. single. review. you write me, but you and folks like you are the reason fic and fic community stays alive, and I can never thank you enough for it. I'm so thankful and grateful for your constant and unwavering support, and for being on this wild writing ride with me as I grow with it.

I hope I can keep up the consistency of the writing style, and only improve as I go, as well as not screw up this story you love so dearly. I promise to try my best.

I am absolutely smilling and filled with happiness. I hope you are the same <3

Xo, Yoon

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 9

Title: Sugar Cookies and Devious Confessions

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Exams season and Solstice? Consider YN locked in, loaded, ready to go, hangry, and sentimental. Jungkook is just along for the ride with a hefty side of acts of service, quality time and physical touch are his love languages. Who'da thunk?

Warnings: T, language, fluff, so much fluff actually, I've surprised myself, semi-sexual conversations, JK is a menace but Reader can keep up...mostly, touch of angst tbh, reader gets hangry and is bad at taking care of herself sometimes, but apologises and makes up for it, mostly just wholesome this time. And fun!

Word Count: 6,675

Release Date: December 8, 2024. 12:30PM

A/N 1: Hiiiiiiiiiiii. It's here, thank you to those who reminded me. I literally would have forgotten for the third week in a row without them. I love you all.

A/N 1.5: Chapter ten will be coming sometime between Dec 20th-30th as it is festive and that's all I will say about it.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight

Jungkook’s learned many things about you since your friendship started. 

From your favourite colours to your favourite brush to paint with. He learned that you are always team morally gray love interest in the books you read in your limited spare time, although that one was learned a little against your will. 

He’d wanted to know why you always went for them, and very begrudgingly you admitted you found it appealing when they’d do anything to protect the main character. That they always did what they thought was best or what needed to be done despite their sad backstory, because for some reason, they all had sad backstories.

Every. Single. One of them. 

And you claimed it suckered you in every time. 

But through all of your time spent together—specifically during midterms—Jungkook learned just how much you ignore all of your basic needs as a human being when it comes to exams season. 

How you’ll forget to eat all day in favour of studying, or staying up late to finish your practical exam projects, making absolutely sure they’re up to your impossibly high standards, disregarding sleep.

So it doesn’t surprise him when he turns the corner to the greenhouse cafe to see you, thinner than normal with bags under your eyes, slaving away at something on your computer. 

He hates that he can tell you’ve lost weight through your winter clothing.

You look up, briefly smiling in greeting. He can tell just from how long it took you to notice him that you need a break, a good healthy meal and some sleep.

He smiles back, but bypasses you and walks straight into the cafe. You don’t think twice about it, already knowing what he’s doing.

“Hey Vivian,” he says to the barista.

“Hey JK, the regular?” She's restocking some cups and lids to the counter.

“Please, but tag on a hot chocolate for YN and some tarts.” Vivian nods, typing the order into the cashing system, very much used to either of you adding on each other's order to your own at this point.

“Machines ready for you,” she says, already prepping the first drink—his by the looks of it.

Jungkook pays and waits patiently, watching you from the window. 

“How long’s she been here?” he asks over the currently frothing milk—that’s for your hot chocolate.

“Since seven. She grabbed a tea and hasn’t moved since.” 

It’s almost 1:30 now, and Viv looks at him knowingly. She’s watched you do this to yourself every mid-term and exam season since you started. 

“Ah. I see.” He purses his lips.

It’s only a few minutes before the drinks and tarts are ready. Jungkook grabs them and heads out the door, calling a thank you over his shoulder.

“Okay look,” he says to grab your attention as he stands directly in front of you. The act of walking to the front of you alone clearly not enough to gain it. 

Looking up, your eyes widen in glee at the treats he carries. You attempt to reach for them but he pulls them back.

“Nuh uh, you need food.” 

You look at him confused. “Those are food.”

“No, these are the reward. You need a meal.” 

You try to interrupt him. Most likely to say you do eat meals, but instant ramen or a box of mac'n'cheese do not count, and he cuts you off before you can. “A healthy meal, Picasso, something to give your body nourishment and energy. One that fills you up.”

You scowl at him. 

“But–”

“No buts,” he cuts you off again. “Healthy food. Full, happy belly food,” he says, gently patting his stomach so not as to spill his drink. “Pack up, we’re going to the cafeteria and getting you some.”

“But–”

“Y/N,” he says sternly, giving you a look that says he will not be budging on this, and that if you refuse, he’s going to throw you over his shoulder to ensure it happens. 

It was the voice of a future King, he thinks. Then internally shudders. That’s not who he is with you, but he can admit that sometimes this side of him comes in handy during times like these. 

“Fine.” You snip, very clearly not happy about this.

Fortunately, you don’t seem to have any art supplies with you today, just your computer, a notepad and pencil case. You gather them quickly, throwing them into your backpack with an annoyed look because you don’t want to stop, but he’s forcing your hand.

He doesn’t care. You need this, and it’s clear as hell you were not going to do it on your own.

You were so fucking stubborn sometimes. 

His mask, hat and baggy shirt combo mixed with some large combat boots and a slight slouch in posture has worked wonders disguising him from the public so far. In fact, he’s pretty sure it intimidates some people seeing as how they nearly jump out of his way. You’ve joked about it before, calling it his ‘scary dog privilege’…whatever that meant. 

Jungkook doesn’t mind, though. Despite being four months into the school year, and his speech at the beginning, people still fawn and stare at him. Trying to get his attention, his approval. Anything to get something from him, even if it’s just a look in their direction. 

He wonders if it will ever die down, if it'll ever go away. Or if with new freshmen every year, a new horde of people will seek him out. 

So, he’s grateful that with this little disguise on, no one bats an eye at him as you two walk the fifteen minutes it takes to get across campus to the cafeteria. He knows you’re more than mentally drained, because you’re not checking over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure no one realizes you’re with him like you usually do. 

You enter the main building, luckily the cafeteria on the ground floor, just near the back. Once there, you walk straight to the fridge of premade to-go foods. Grabbing a fruit cup, a chicken caesar salad, and a container of mixed vegetables with dip, you turn to him.

“Is this good enough for you?” you snark.

“Yep, great choices,” he says, ignoring your tone. “Very healthy and nutritious. Plus you nearly have all the food groups.”

“I do have all the food groups,” you say back, deadpan.

Wow…

You really need some sleep, he’s never heard you sound so lifeless. Or mean. You’re only ever truly mean when you’re beyond exhausted, too tired to care. 

He’d say your mood and overall vibe is like a mixture of brown and gray, but he knows if he said it out loud you’d make him specify which specific shades of brown and gray, so he keeps the thought to himself. Both not to provoke you and to be polite.  

“You’re missing dairy and grain,” he says.

You point to his hands holding the tarts and drink.

“Fair point,” he concedes, and trails you to the register, grabbing a protein shake from a nearby fridge on the way. His card is out and paying before you can reach for your wallet and you accept it, even too worn out to yell at him for buying you something. 

Hot chocolate and the occasional bag of tarts you're fine with, because half the time you’re also buying him his coffee and sharing your tarts, so you see it as a fair trade. But anything outside those and you damn near throw a fit, claiming you don’t need him to spend his money on you. 

You never want anything from him, so unlike everyone else in his life.

He leads you to a more private booth in the corner, scary dog privilege in full effect as no one dares stand in his way, and you very unceremoniously plop down, sluggishly shucking off your bag and coat. 

Definitely a brownish-gray. 

You two eat and drink in silence; you, slowly picking away at your food, him, finishing his drink then eating the vegetables from the container you don’t like. It’s a peaceful silence, contented as your mood gradually improves and some colour returns to your face the more you get into your system. 

The sight relieves him. 

“Sorry,” you say, eyes glued to the table, unable to look at him. And he knows it’s for the way you treated him pre-food.

“No worries,” he replies. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. That's good.”

Jungkook wasn’t going to push, but now that your mood’s improving, he hopes it’s safe to.

“Hey,” you look up at him, the bags under your eyes more evident under the artificial light and his heart breaks a little at the sight. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep tonight?”

A small close lipped smile finds your face, eyes soft, appreciative. The corner of his own lifts to match. 

“I promise I’ll try.”

You fall asleep early that night, 9pm. 

You don’t know what allows you to, but your exam worries fade and assignment anxiety slips from your mind the heavier your eyes grow. In the back of your head however, a thought slips through your defenses; you know it’s because of the look in Jungkook's eyes when he’d asked you too. 

The one of worry—genuine worry—for you. 

You hate yourself for causing it. You never want him to have to worry about you, god…he already has so much on his plate, you don’t want to add to it. 

But mostly…

But mostly you let yourself succumb to slumber because you don’t want to disappoint him. 

He asked you so kindly, and you know he had your best interests at heart when he did. He always does. 

You don’t have it in you to deny him that simple favour. To take care of yourself a little better.

So you sleep, just this once. For him. To help relieve him of the stress you caused.

And you know that that thought is what lets you until 10am the next day.

You feel better than you have in weeks.

You have everything you could possibly need to make all the recipes you have planned for today. Eggs, flour, sugar, soju, cutters, extracts, ginger, honey, chocolate chips, food colouring, some fruit concentrates and more are stuffed into the bags that dangle from your now struggling arms. There’s also another much lighter bag filled with a surprise for him that sits near the crook of your elbow. 

 Jungkook’s not going to know what hit him.

The door clicks open and you watch his eyes nearly leave his skull before he reaches to take them from you.

“Oh wow, you really weren’t kidding were you,” he says as he takes them to the kitchen with ease. 

Stupid muscles, you think, but the thought doesn’t hold for too long, glad at having your arm circulation back. 

“Solstice cookies are no joke in my house,” you say, following him.

“Clearly.”

He starts taking things out of the bags and you grab the one with the surprise in it before he can get to it.

“Won’t we need that?” he asks.

“Yes, but it’s not for cookies,” you start backing away towards the living room, bag behind your back. “It’s a surprise.”

Jungkook has a goofy grin plastered on his face as he follows you, and you put one on to match.

You stand in front of the coffee table and order him to sit and close his eyes, a sarcastic ‘yes ma’am’ comes from his lips, but he does as told. 

You set the contents of the bag on the coffee table; a small fake tree with built in lights, some tiny baubles in a box, a star, a polaroid camera and a custom, empty ornament.

“Okay, open!”

Jungkook opens his eyes and the same goofy grin returns, but this time there’s a sparkle in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

His voice is gentle and lovely when he asks, “What’s all this Picasso?”

“Your very own tree to decorate. We have lights, decorations, even a star for the top,” you say as he leans and picks up the star. “You said you didn’t really celebrate anymore so I wanted to bring some celebration back to you—if you wanted to, that is.”

He twirls the star in his hand, smile never leaving, as he inspects it closer. “Did you make this?”

You turn sheepish. “Ah… yeah. They don’t really sell mini toppers for the mini trees, just the baubles, so that guy’s made from the finest cereal box cardboard and tinfoil on the market.”

He just stares, at the star, at the tree, then to you. You can’t tell if you screwed up or not. Did he hate this?

But then he’s standing and you’re in his arms as he hugs you. 

You freeze, unsure of what to do for a second, before you let your arms go around him, hugging him back. 

He’s solid, you can feel the strength in him as he breathes, and the weight in his arms as they hold you. 

But also warm. So warm your cheeks start to heat to match the rest of your body that seems to be on fire. 

It ends before it barely started, and you find yourself missing him the second he’s gone. 

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head as if not realizing what he’d just done until after he stopped. You want to tell him it was okay, but he says, “thank you,” immediately after, and squats down to open the baubles. 

“You’re welcome,” you say as you watch, sitting down on the couch. He looks like a kid, the brightest of smiles on his face as he goes to place the first one, but pauses, and hands it to you. 

“You know better than me where to start.”

You giggle, placing the red sphere near the middle, and gesture for him to put on the next one. It continues like this until the box is empty, you then him, then you then him. He places the last ornament and looks to you, star in hand. 

“You do it,” you say. You’ve done this a million times with your mum, you doubt he’s done the same.

He carefully grabs the top branch that sticks up, placing the star over it. Your heart swells at how gentle he is with your handmade decoration. 

“Now the last step,” you say, as you reach for the camera. This was your favourite tradition with your mother, the yearly solstice picture. You have one from every single year after you were born, and even one with you in your mum’s belly. 

“Turn around,” you say, spinning your finger and he does, you follow.

You’re both on the ground in front of the tree, and you lift the camera, leaning into him. Still so warm. He leans right back. 

“Say 'Solstice!'” you call out, and smile.

“Solstice,” he says with you as you snap the picture.

You pause for a moment, making sure the image is done capturing before leaning away again. 

The image prints out, and you take hold of it, shaking so it develops faster. 

“Can you get some scissors, and a permanent marker?” you ask Jungkook. He leaves for only a moment, returning from the kitchen, scissors and marker in hand. 

You reach for the empty, custom ornament. It’s a camera, and where the lens would be is a spot for a picture. Cutting the polaroid to fit, you slide it in, and write solstice followed by the year on the back of the ornament.  You put it in the middle of the tree, letting the baubles frame it.

You don’t see Jungkook watching you do all of this, a look in his eye that would melt you if you saw. 

“And now for the magic,” you say, turning on the built-in lights. The tree twinkles as the little LEDs reflect off baubles, like stars on a clear night winking at one another.

You're too busy looking at the tree when you hear a click. Following the sound you see Jungkook, polaroid camera in hand, lens facing you. The image pops out and he grabs it, placing it on the coffee table beside the tree.

“Aren't you supposed to shake it?” you ask.

He looks purely serene as he responds. “Nah, polaroids have chemicals and dyes layered in them, so if you shake them you can get microbubbles or marks on them.”

You didn’t know that, but it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he does. His talent for photography, a result of years of study and practice. 

“Oh, good to know,” you say as you take the camera from him, and direct him to look at the tree. You snap a picture to match your own, placing it on the table beside the one he took. 

He stays sat there, staring at the tree for a while, the occasional flit towards you before the tree once again.

“It’s perfect,” Jungkook says, breaking the comfortable silence. He clears his throat before adding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You don’t know what else to say besides that, but you can see the happiness in his eyes. Their glow. Their warmth. 

You don’t think you need to say more. 

He knows. 

Time is quickly passing, and you have five recipes to get through today. So as much as you find yourself not wanting to move, perfectly happy sitting here with him for the rest of the day in this beautiful silence, you can’t. The tree is only the beginning of your day together.

“Cookie time?” you ask. 

Jungkook looks to you and takes a deep breath, as if he was also content to stay where you were for the day.

Just you, him and the tree.

“Cookie time.”

“You bitch!” you say as flour flies from his hand to your cheek. 

You were three and a half recipes in, having made two easier recipes first to ease him into a more difficult one. Shortbread, maejakgwa, and gingerbread now sit around in tupperware and cooling sheets around the apartment. 

But because of that, Jungkook is slowly losing all seriousness as you retrieve the sugar cookie dough from his fridge. It was actually the first thing you’d made, knowing it had to chill for a while beforehand, hence the three and a half. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, all knowing smirk plastered on his face like a neon billboard. 

You refuse to sink to his childish levels, and remove the beautifully chilled dough from its refrigerator bowl. Wiping your face with a cloth to clean yourself of the flour, you order him over.

“Come use all your unnecessary muscles to roll this out, quarter inch thick,” holding out the rolling pin to him. The smirk lessons only slightly, but he does as told. 

“All my muscles are unnecessary, huh?” he says after a minute of rolling. You’re by the sink washing some dishes as he does and you can all but physically see the egging in his voice. 

“Yes.”

“And why’s that?” He asks as he finishes rolling out the dough and begins on his cookie cutter decisions. You’ve learned he’s particular about which one’s he wants to use for which type of cookie. 

“Because you have like a million eight foot tall, 450 pound security guards following your every move at all times,” you say, as if this was obvious. In reality, it was a solid team of six guards who were at their tallest 6 '4, and maybe 285 at their heaviest. 

Admittedly, they were all really nice guys, having met them numerous times over the months. And you were planning on stealing some of the cookies from today to give them little solstice bags. 

Jungkook’s never going to be able to eat them all by himself  anyway…you think. And even if he could, he really shouldn’t.

“So, because I have security guards,” he looks at you unbelievingly, “my muscles are unnecessary?” 

“Yes. Why have them if you don’t need them?” At this point you’re just teasing him.

“Lots of reasons,” and he starts listing as you continue to clean. “They look nice, but that's obvious.”

“I’m sure your groupies don’t mind that at all,” you sneak in under your breath, referring to his enormous, and rather lewd mouthed female following on social media. 

“Hey, you leave my groupies out of this, they’re nice people,” he says, pointing a white powdered finger. You scoff and go back to the dishes mumbling something about how they feed his ego. 

“There’s also the fact that I like being strong. I like that I don’t get winded from jogging up the stairs, and I like that I have the ability to help damsels who show up at my place with their arms full of far too many heavy bags.”

You shoot him a glare and he laughs. “You can’t say I’m wrong.”

You also don’t have to acknowledge that comment.

He takes it as a win in your ever ongoing battle of wits. And just to try and even out the playing field a little more, as you are currently winning by a landslide, he adds on a little more to his answer, hopefully one you’re not expecting, and therefore winning by shock factor.

“There’s other reasons too, but those are a lot less PG, to say the least.”

He—

Your hands pause their ministrations for mere seconds before continuing.

How did he say it so…casually!?

Like he didn’t essentially just tell you he likes being strong for bedroom purposes. A topic you’ve never been anywhere near speaking to him about, and he just… brings it up like that? So cryptically as if he wants you to ask for clarification. 

And you do want clarification, damn him!

You hate that it makes you curious. Hate. It.

You like knowing things, not to be nosey, but because you like the mental safety it brings. When you and Nel first started having sex you did a deep dive on everything you could, to make sure nothing was a surprise and that you didn’t hurt yourself or him if you tried anything new. 

Little did you know half of the research was for nothing. Nel has never been the most sexually adventurous person, whereas you wanted to try out new things, explore, see what you like via trial and error, he was fine with good ole missionary and a handful of other basic positions. 

What you two do now works though. And that’s what counts. Compromise. Overcome. Enjoy and respect each other's boundaries. 

But it makes you wonder if Jungkook knows anything you don’t. 

That reason alone is apparently enough for you to hear, “Like what?” leave your lips before you can stop it. And you internally freak.

What the fuck! You did not just ask him that. 

That did not just come out of your mouth.

You did not jus-

“You really wanna know?” he asks, eyeing you over his shoulder with a single quirked brow, like he can’t believe you said it either, but he’ll dish you if you want him too. 

How interesting. You don’t remember gaining this level of trust from him, to be honest about something so personal. So private. 

You wonder when that happened. 

No, you say in your mind. But your head is gingerly nodding yes. 

Stop that! You think to your body, betraying you once again.

Jungkook hums before picking up a cutter, a simple circle. 

“Well,” he punctuates the word with a cutter punch. “Uhh…there’s a certain level of—” a punch, “—power dynamic I prefer having, and they definitely help with that,” another cutter punch. “I also like being able to lift my partner with relative ease, or carry them if need be. Legs around my hips is a personal favourite.”

Your dishwashing slows as he continues, unable to stop the images that flood your mind thanks to your visual thinking. 

Stupid art brain.

A small pool of heat starts to form low in your stomach. Stupid art brain.

After some more circular cutter punches, you think he’s finished and you’re relieved, but then he switches to a spikier one and continues. 

“I’ve also learned that finger strength seems to be a fan favourite,” he jokes and you gulp, forcing that thought out of your head as soon as it enters like a slingshot.  “And most of my previous partners seemed to enjoy the fact that I could, uhm…well, that I could hold them in place while I did… that is…whatever I wanted to them.” 

You ignore the wetness in forming your underwear. This conversation, regardless of who it was with, was not helping you and your complete and utter lack of sex. 

Another enormous downside to long distance, your libido and its easily excitable nature due to lack of use. Maybe an appointment with your vibrator is due soon, if you’re this affected by these attempts at sterile descriptions of sexual-like encounters. He isn’t even saying anything expressly dirty. He’s trying to be as respectful and informative in his answers as he can.

Plus, you did this to yourself. 

“But if I had to pick, I think there’s a tie for my favourite part about having unnecessary muscles for non PG purposes,” he says, and looks at you with another quirked brow, seeing if he’s allowed to proceed.

You’ve entirely stopped washing the dishes. Too focused on not focusing on the growing need blooming inside you. 

Oh yes, you’re penciling it in right now: Vibrator appointment. Tonight. 10:30pm. 

Sharp.

Time to accept the consequences of your actions.

“Consider it a potential learning opportunity. Academically speaking, of course,” you say, as a way to make this educational. That’s all this is anyway right? To see if he knows anything you don’t. 

Right?

Right.

“If you say so Picasso.” He tears the leftover dough from the neatly cut cookies, and starts laying them on a baking pan. “First, I like that I’m strong enough to flip my partner over whether they’re, uhm...” he struggles for an ‘academic’ sounding word, but settles for, “restrained, or not.”

Heat. Everywhere. There's heat everywhere and you immediately go back to the dishes, changing the flowing water to ice cold and ignoring the throbbing of your core. You’re pretty sure if you slipped your hands down your pants right now, they’d be just as wet as they are cleaning the mixing bowls. 

Maybe you should reschedule to 10. Or even 9:30. Hell, why not 9 while you’re thinking about it.

“Secondly, I like the muscles because they help me make great use of walls.”

You nearly drop the bowl in the sink, not having nearly enough time to recover before he’s looking at you again, sugar cookie filled baking pan in hand.

“You ever done something like that?” he asks, sly smirk visible. He’s trying to make light of the situation, make it a joke for the sake of comfortability.

He’s spilling ‘all’ his secrets, why shouldn’t you spill one.

The oven dings, signaling the preheating is complete and it’s ready for use. He comes closer to you, only because the oven is opposite the sink, puts them in and sets the oven’s timer for 12 minutes. Turning back around, he’s not two feet from you.

You force your voice to be as smooth and cool as possible as you face him, your own smirk plastered. 

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

Yes, yes he would.

“Call your goons in, I have their bags ready.”

“They’re not my goons,” Jungkook says, texting Shen, head of his security detail. “They’re my guards.”

You’re both finishing up cleaning the kitchen, all of the ingredients are put away, the dishes are cleaned, and Jungkook is washing down the counterspace as you write the names of everyone on the little bags filled with the results of your combined labours.

The coffee table is covered in little polaroids from today, all still resting from when they developed. Half of them have some form of baking related mess on them, be it some flour or a small lump of dough. 

You look at one he took after throwing more flour on you, your nose is scrunched and it looks like half your face is white with the stuff. It’s cute. There’s another beside it, Jungkook is pretending to lick raw batter from the whisk, eyes wide, tongue outstretched. It’s chaotic.

They’re perfect.

Shen, Dae-Seong, Asa, Rowan, Micah and Hikari are Jungkook’s security detail. They all have shared apartments in the same building. Never too far away. Shen and Asa are stationed on his floor, Mikah and Rowan are on the floor below and Dae-Seong and Hikari are on the one above. 

“Guards, goons, same difference,” you say, but you hear knocking not seconds later, no doubt Shen and Asa. 

You go and open the door, welcoming them in.

“Hey Y/N,” Asa says, scooping you up for a hug, your feet dangling. Asa’s one of the guards who’s super tall, and he’s always been very affectionate towards you. Come to think of it, a lot of them are. 

“Hey Asa, how’s Natalie?” you chuckle, hugging him back lightly. Natalie is his wife, who's still back in the capital.

“She’s good, excited to have me home soon.”

“No doubt, say hi for me.”

“Yeah, will do.”

He sets you down just in time for another knock. 

Rowan, Micah, Hikari and Dae-Seong all make their way in too, giving high fives, light hugs or happy greetings to you as they do. Soon, you’re being towered over by men, feeling very small, but never scared as they are always so lovely to you.

You suspect you’re quickly becoming their favourite. 

Jungkook they’re used to seeing, they’ve known him for years, protected him for years. They give him shit, a nod or grab him by the neck with their arms as they play wrestle to greet him. No hugs or high fives to be seen with him, only laughter. Mostly at Jungkook. 

When they’re around, Jungkook is the most at ease you’ve ever seen him at. 

“So what’s up?” Shen asks. He’s the least affectionate out of everyone, stoic even, but that doesn’t surprise you. He’s responsible for the safety of the future monarch, that’s a stressful job.

You look to Jungkook, who’s now sitting on the couch. He signals with a hand that this is all you.

“I don’t know if you all celebrate, but just in case you do, Jungkook and I spent the day baking,” Rowan snorts at that, and you ignore it, motioning for them to follow you to the kitchen. The island carrying their individually labeled goody bags comes into their view.

“And this is just a little thank you for all you do from the jackass in the other room,” you point with a thumb to the wall the couch is on the other side of. The men snicker. 

“I heard that,” Jungkook calls.

“You were supposed to,” you call back, then to the group once more, “and it’s also a Happy Solstice from me.”

Rowan and Asa are still laughing at your less than kind words about their charge as you begin to hand them their bags. Each one says thank you as you do, and Asa gives you another hug. He may be 6’4 and god knows how many pounds, but really, he was just a big teddy bear—a lethal one— but cuddly nonetheless.

“We’ve got a decent selection, but feel free to trade,” you say, giving Shen his bag last. He has a thing with going last, you have no idea why, but you respect it. You whisper to him that he has an extra of each cookie, and not to tell the others, including Jungkook. He gives you the absolute smallest of small smiles, followed by a hushed ‘thank you.’

It’s the most tender you’ve ever seen him.

Micah pipes up. “What’s this one?” he asks, holding up a cookie.

“So, we’ve got gingerbread, maejakgwa, sugar cookies, shortbread and that, my dearest Micah,” the mountain of a man blushes at that, and you laugh, “is a yakgwa cookie. Think chewy honey and ginger.”

He pops it into his mouth instantly and you swear if he could, he’d melt into a puddle. 

“There’s no way King Pain in the Ass over there made these, they’re way too good,” Hikari says, on his third one. He seems to be trying one of each, seeing which he likes. So far? Apparently it’s all of them.

“Cross my heart,” you say, “it was a gallant team effort.”

“Thanks kid,” he calls to the prince, currently entering the room to see his guards happier than he has in a very long time. He will never admit it out loud, for fear of endless mocking, but the sight warms his heart.

Dae-Seong comes up to you, and very politely asks, “Could I get the recipe you used for the maejakgwa? My wife would love these.”

“Of course, Dae-Seong,” you place a kind hand on his forearm. “Give Minji my best will you?”

The man nods, grateful. 

All the recipes today were from your memory, so you get your phone, and start typing it out. 

You have him text it to himself from your phone when you’re finished, and use that as your que to grab the camera.

“Everyone,” you call out, and immediately seven pairs of eyes, with seven full mouths beneath them, are looking at you. Jungkook’s eating some from his own stash, or so you hope. “Crowd your favourite royal on the couch please, it’s picture time.” You shake the camera gently in your hand.

“My favourite royal’s back at the pala–” Hikari tries, but a punch to the shoulder from Jungkook has him laughing in favour of completing the sentence. 

You love the relationship he has with them. Like brothers.

Quickly, Jungkook is squished between the six men, one on either side and four on the floor in front of him. They tried to fit more on the couch but they're all so big that they couldn’t.

“Everyone needs to smile, and if they don't, I'm taking more until they do,” you say pointedly, eyeing up Shen. He only nods that he understands.

“Say Solstice!”

A chorus of deep voiced ‘solstice's' ring your eyes as you look through the eyepiece and snap the picture. It prints out and you leave it with all the others on the coffee table. You see that everyone is smiling in the picture as it develops. 

Perfect. Everything about today has been perfect.

After a few more minutes of chatting, the guards have to get back to their posts, and you’re at the door, wishing everyone a happy break as they leave. 

Shen, as usual, hangs back, wanting to be the last to leave. He’s standing beside Jungkook, both watching you as you bid the others farewell. 

“I like her,” Shen says to Jungkook quietly. 

“Me too,” Jungkook says back. 

Shen can see the prince means that in more than one way.

“Keep her around.”

“I'm trying my best to.”

It’s nearing 7:30, you’re both full after ordering dinner in, not wanting to be anywhere near a kitchen until next week, and working on assignments. Jungkook’s editing some photos, and you’re writing part of an essay from your phone, having completely forgotten to bring your computer in all the excitement. 

“Hey,” you say, sitting in your spot on the couch. You nudge him with a socked foot, he has headphones on so he can focus.

He doesn’t look to you, but removes a headphone. “Yeah?”

You lock your phone, brain mush for the night. “Can we move movie night to tonight? I have an exam at 8am on Monday and I want to use tomorrow to study.”

You’ve been thinking about it for a while, deciding that today would let you know if you needed to make the switch or not. And given that you’ve spent the day on your feet and partially socializing, you doubt you’ll be able to focus for the rest of the night, exhausted. But the good kind of exhausted.

You’ve been taking better care of yourself since that day with Jungkook. Not drastically, but you’re starting to listen to your body’s signals a little more, and right now it’s telling you you need TV and sleep. 

Appointment be damned. You’ll reschedule.

Jungkook hits the space bar and removes his headphones before closing the computer. 

“Yeah, of course. But–” he cuts himself off, looking at the tree in front of him. The lights are low in the apartment and it’s dark out, so the tree shines, glowing from within. The picture of you two still sits in the middle, and the now multiple stacks of polaroids sit around its base like presents. 

“But?”

“But that means I won’t see you after today. I only have two exams left, Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning, then I’m back at the palace.”

Oh. 

Right.

“We don’t have to, I can just study earlier in the d-”

“No! No, it’s okay. It just…it changes a few things,” he bites his lip as he thinks, and places his computer on the coffee table. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes Picasso, please?”

You’re very confused but comply, closing your eyes and waiting. You hear him get up and then him walking, then a door opens. There’s some rummaging before the door closes and his footsteps near again.

The couch dips right beside you.

“Hold out your hands.”

You hold them both out, palms up, and something bumpy and cylindrical is placed in them. 

“Okay, open.”

In your hands is a leather rolling brush case, held shut by not only matching leather strings, but a red ribbon and bow. 

“Oh,” you didn’t know you were doing gifts. “Jungkook. It’s—it’s beautiful.”

“Open it.”

You untie the ribbon, setting it to the side as you also untie the leather strings, and unroll. The case is filled with brushes from Olliveri and Schultz, the best brush makers in the realm. And a small, very surprised gasp escapes you. 

You’ve never once owned any of their products. Their brushes go for $50 at the lowest, for the smallest of brushes.  

Exquisite craftsmanship goes into each and every brush, hand carved wooden handles, the best bristles you can buy, and rust resistant ferrule. You’ve always dreamed of having one of their brushes, and now here you are, with a whole set.

They’re the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Jungkook I—I don’t know what to say. I couldn’t possibly acce-”

“Yes you can. You can and you will. Please. I even made sure they put in an extra fan brush cuz it’s your favourite.” 

You notice the two brushes on the end, identical. 

He remembered. 

A lump is forming in your throat, overwhelmed with gratitude.

“I haven’t—I don’t—,” you take a breath, “I didn’t get you a gift, though.”

“Today was gift enough,” he says, and you can see in his eyes he means every word. “I haven't had a solstice like this in…a really long time, and the memories from today are enough, more than enough. I promise.”

You don’t know what to say, you haven’t been at this much of a loss for words since…ever. You can only think of one thing to convey how thankful you are.

Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you squeeze, his arms immediately around your waist. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, “I love them.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath too, savouring this moment for as long as he can. The feel of your arms around him, squeezing. The soft curve of your body up against his. His hands on your waist, you’re warmth under his touch, or maybe that was him, he can’t tell. And he doesn’t care. 

 It’s the first time you’ve ever initiated physical contact that was more than a nudge or playful shove. 

“You’re welcome, YN. Happy Solstice.” 

Chapter Ten: TBR

A/N 2: Fun fact! The tree and tin foil star are based on what I do irl. I have a dollarstore tree with little baubles and lights, but I made the star from a cereal box and tin foil because there weren't any toppers when I bought it.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

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