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#they need to change that damn title
shimmershae · 6 months
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Am I excited to see Carol/Melissa again? More than you can imagine. Do I give a diddly damn about being jerked around for the eleventy-millionth time w/more ridiculous shipbaiting? Seriously? Do better, AMC. Stop the bullshit & the gaslighting.
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chargoeson · 7 months
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i have not been writing; instead, i have been pondering. and this mornings ponder was about my characters and how, in the grand scheme of things, they are all different hues of self insert. and that’s not a critique! but really it’s like,,
Maren is my dissociation
Leonie is my ego
Josette is my agoraphobia
but the thing is i love them? and giving them that piece of myself and then the rest of a whole person’s experience and other personality traits and virtues feels HEALING. like there’s a reason my therapist asks “have you written about this yet?” so often.
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shidoukanae · 5 months
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Did a study of a panel i like for a manga with absolutely my favorite female character i've seen yet and thought i'd post it here too in the hopes of eventually finding fans of this series when they inevitably, like me, look for more content of this story :'D
I could gush about this funny, lovestarved, absolutely downright sympathetic and villainous lady who absolutely deserves to be family with the protag for so many hours if you let me she is literally so perfect and everything I have ever wanted from female characters before.
I've gone from going "ooooo she's such a cool antagonist who is such a funny little mystery i LOVE her" to "yeah she's kind of on the insane spectrum but tbf who wouldn't be fucked up in her situation TwT" to "i WILL cry over her and she is completely in the right for doing what she's doing and i can't believe i ever believed she wasn't the heroine she's supposed to be :'D"
#the mighty extra: one girl changes the world#helene de belliana#my love#i found the raws but haven't found if there's a fandom for this manga#if it exists it's probs overseas but idk how to find said fandom then bc searching by title is useless fghjgfhj#the manga itself isn't perfect but my god does it have a lot of heart put into it#i can tell the creator adores Helene because there's no fucking way they don't at this point#just woke up to read chapter 72 and i am#melting#for baby Helene and hopefully getting to know more about her relationship with the original Lyla#because that last panel of her looking uncertain is so adorbs#but also im not used to seeing Helene with long hair and for once i prefer short hair to long hair#literally Helene is such a cool character how do i write a character as cool as her#and the fact that she has a love interest (debatably) who is is on manipulative terms with atm is so interesting#esp because he's the only one she's showing her true nature to atm and im !!! at the implications of that#her being mischievous towards Paris (even if she's meanly funny about it) and the fact she used to be mischievous as a kid...#waaah i wanna see her and Paris develop a relationship together beyond their current sarcastic partnership#especially because there's something so neat about the funny self-interested dragon man obeying her without reason to#at least the narrative hasn't addressed why he would bother??? bc she's neither offered him the fragment nor is he completely amiable to he#but also i can't help but think there was some omitting going on after their second to last scene together...#damn this manga gives so much food for thought and for that alone this story is instantly in my top 10 rankings#For Helene alone it's probably close to my number 2 spot lmao#anyways yes i stan Helene and at this point i think im her number 1 fan and defender until (hopefully) proven otherwise~#bc god do i need more content for her waaaah
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caninecowboy · 2 years
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crying screaming throwing up etc etc etc
#milo.txt#em#made me TWO!!! playlists#we like to express our love for each other through playlists which is actually so cute of us#but they made me a playlist themed around i love you ! so some songs i've heard and some new ones#which is always a treat!!#they also made me a playlist themed around slow dancing in the kitchen#and they included songs ive sent them and offhandedly mentioned how i wanna dance w someone in the kitchen to them#god . i know it sounds like a small thing and a silly thing for me to be crying about but . i just#its so fucking crazy to me they listen? like of COURSE they listen theyre a god damn sweetheart and they know me sometimes better#than i know myself#as someone who kinda just vibed a lot alone and got used to solitude its crazy to me ill mention something once and they'll remember it#like i made a joke that if they wanted to get me anything for my birthday they should get me mothman#and guess what#they GOT ME A MOTHMAN PLUSHIE AND ITS THE CUTEST THING EVER (after them of course)#and its just like . oh my god? you not only listen to what i say but you remember? and you genuinely know who i am?#like . what the fuck bro that's crazy#yall know that tweet thats like you get kidnapped and theyll return you if you can speak about something for 30 minutes#yeah i could speak about em and how much i love them for like actual hours .#i just feel so incredibly lucky to be known and loved by them yknow? its . yeah . its good#it hurts sometimes because they're far away from me and sometimes my heart gets so excited i just. need to squeeze them and theyre not here#BUT as ive said before i would do this over and over and over and over and over just to say hello to them once more#EEP we're going to be together in like 3ish weeks HOLY FUCK#this reminded me to buy my concert outfit eugh im gonna look soooo cute actually#ANYWAY#my heart is so full and i love them an incredible amount <3#UPDATE ON THIS: i changed my blog title to 'oh loverboy' yesterday? and theres A SONG CALLED LOVERBOY ON THE PLAYLIST THEY SENT ME#OH HHHHH MY GOD MY FUCKING H E A R T#we're really on our own wavelength huh
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yoongifis · 2 months
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💌 switching positions | myg
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where the boy that you’ve got wrapped around your finger works his hardest to change his position from a somewhat friends-with-benefit to an official relationship with you. [and hes not the only one who will be switching positions ;)] *if you haven’t read ‘fxck a fxckboy’ yet, i suggest to read it before reading this! or don’t :p do as you wish!*
pairing: flirty/smartass!y/n x fuckboy!yoongi
; warnings: ass grabbing, ass slapping, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, cock warming, blowjobs, handjobs breastplay, usage of sex toys, masturbation, usage of mature words, some dirty talk, jealous yoongi
; genre: smut (18+), pwp
; wc: 11k (hooooly sheeeeiiit)
a/n: SHES FINALLY HERE AAAAHH!! a little continuation of fuckboy yoongi~ hehe! very very sorry it took me so long! i had this in the drafts for a while and was slowly building it throughout the year :v now i've gotten busy bc your girl got into nursing school :') don't get me wrong though, i'll do my best to put out some writings here and there bc i do enjoy doing this :p i also wanna say thank you so much for showing so much love to the original 'fxck a fxckboy' fic!! i didn't expect it to gain that much attention, so i was pretty hyped to see a lot of people enjoying it :D i really hope you guys enjoy this one <3 it's just a little somethin' to fulfill your fuckboy yoongi needs hehehe. fair warning though, this is literally pure smut with no sort of plot (call me a horny mofo lmfaoooo). please ignore my grammatical errors :') i'll fix them at some point when i am notttt lazy ! :p
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“Yoongi, could you quit it? I’m trying to help you study for your exam!”
The two of you were in one of your university library’s study rooms—which included a whiteboard, a table, and a couple of chairs in a somewhat small amount of space. Out of all the seats that were around the table and the free space this room has to offer, he chose to stand right behind you, hands wrapped around your waist as his head rests on the back of your shoulder as you wrote things on the whiteboard. 
He’s groaning out of boredom. 
“But isn’t this supposed to be a date?”
You snort with a chuckle, “yeah—a study date.”
You went a couple more rounds on the day you first slept with each other (and damn did he go crazy). After that, you told him you didn’t want to fuck him without being “official” because it felt like you were one of his little flings. He respected that, and really held himself back (although he does manage to sneak some kisses from you here and there to get his daily dose of you). He became eager to get you to be his girlfriend, but like you said you wanted to go on dates before you can agree.
And that’s what he did.
He’s been making everything into a date. And so far, he’s taken you on plenty.
Work on assignments together at the school library? (study) Date. 
Drive around town, enjoying the views as you guys talked? (car-ride) Date.
Watch a movie at his place with all the snacks he bought just for you? (movie night) Date. 
How about the two of you make dinner together? (cooking) Date.
It was cute. Something you’d never expected from him. Did he always have this romantic, sweet, and cheesy side to him? You could tell he is trying to keep his promise—take you on a bunch of dates till you agree to be his girlfriend. It may seem a bit too much, but due to his past history you wanted to make him wait and work hard for the ‘boyfriend title’—which he was willing to do. 
“Still a date,” he mumbles.
Yoongi’s squeezing you tightly, bringing his head to the crook of your neck, lips just slightly brushing against your skin. 
“Yoongi, you’ve got to study. They’re not going to let you graduate if you don’t pass this class. This is what you get for always skipping.”
“I just don’t understand that calculus shit. And I can’t study when you’re around.”
“You don’t even like it when I’m not around—but it somehow has to be me that has to help you with studying.”
“Exactly.”
You’re chuckling again at how cute he was. How is it that he was one of the biggest fuckboys at your school and now he’s the biggest simp for you?
“How about we make a deal?”
He hums, “I’m listening.”
“Pass the class and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
His head shoots up. “Whatever I want?” He repeats.
“And I’ll stop your suffering and agree to be your girlfriend.”
It’s like a whole switch went off in his body; he was ready to get going.
“You don’t have to tell me twice, princess,” he’s removing his hold around you, finally taking a seat with a pencil in his hand and a paper in front of him as he looks at you, “if that’s all it’s going to take for me to be your boyfriend, I’ll do it.”
Of course, Yoongi left himself with only two days to study for his final exam. It may seem like not enough time, but one thing you learned about him is that he can get really determined to do something especially if he gets some type of reward from you. 
He surprisingly locked himself in his room (according to Hoseok), and was trying to do things on his own. He also did not contact you at all that day—making that day the first time the two of you haven’t hung out or contacted each other since the day you both had that little confession session.
You didn’t want to admit it, but you were honestly missing Yoongi despite it only being a day. You’ve gotten so used to having him constantly around you that him not being right next to you felt so off. 
These feelings must’ve been bothering you so much because now you’re at the front door of his apartment with an early dinner of take-out in your hand, waiting for Hoseok to open the door.
“He’s still in his room—the doors unlocked this time which is new. I would have loved to join you guys but I promised to go out with the other boys,” he pauses. “…I did ask Yoongi to join me but he told me to ‘get lost’, so—,” he grumbles under his breath as he makes his way around you.
You laugh at him.
“No worries, Hoseok. Just go have fun.”
The two of you switch places, with his hand still on the door handle as he’s about to head out.
“I should be saying that to you guys,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Yoongi’s right! Get lost already!!” You gently hit the side of his arm as he laughs at your reaction. “Don’t be so weird.”
“Who said it had to be those things? I never said that,” he laughs, but you roll your eyes at him. “Go out, watch a movie, or cook—whatever to get him up and out of his room. That guy isn’t even getting enough rest like usual and barely ate today and yesterday. I’ve literally never seen him like this before—he’s actually studying pretty hard for his exam.”
You’re thinking to yourself, giving him a little nod before he says his final goodbye and shuts the door.
God—Yoongi is really serious about this.
You knock before you enter, only to be faced with Yoongi at his desk, tons of loose paper scattered everywhere and crumpled ones on the floor. He didn’t even notice you until you said his name, his focus from the lecture playing on his laptop switched to you when he glanced over his shoulder.
“Babyy,” he mumbles lowly, a little smile on his mouth.
You’re walking towards him, expecting his eyes to stay on you but they don’t. He’s listening to whatever lecture he had on, scribbling down whatever. It kind of hurt a little. You were too used to having his attention all on you.
“Have you eaten? I brought some take out.”
All he does is shake his head, still focused on his work.
A small pout on your face appears, upset with how he was. You put the bag filled with food onto the floor, next to the drawers of his desk. You take a step closer to him, a hand immediately going to his head to run your fingers through his messy hair. You gently massage his scalp with the pads of your fingers, leaning over to take a look at his work. The only sound that could be heard between you two was the lecture that he had playing.
“Look at you, working so hard,” you broke the silence, “you literally weren’t able to be like this at the library.”
He doesn’t say anything. Just a little “uh-huh”. It was more of a little grunt in agreement. 
It bothered you that he wasn’t talking to you like usual. No hands or eyes all over you—nothing! 
You remove your hands away from him.
“Yoongi, don’t you want to relax with me for a little bit?”
It was obvious you were pouting again—you can just hear it as you spoke.
“Can’t, baby. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He didn’t even bother to glance over at you or complain how you removed your hand from his head. 
“Not even just for a little?”
You hear him exhale, the small action enough to make your heart sink just a little.
“Baby, I’m a little busy. Go lay in my bed and rest for me over there, yeah? I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
Now that definitely hurt.
He didn’t even take a look at you again! Not one glance.
Without a word, you sat on his bed. Eventually you quietly lay down, taking your phone out to scroll through your apps even though you’d much prefer to be talking or hanging out with Yoongi. 
The silence and sound of his lecture videos and the small scratches of his pencil on his paper echos in the room.
Who would have thought you’d ever see Yoongi ignoring you or not be all over you when you’re in the same room as him?
You immediately got to thinking.
And it hit you.
You toss your phone somewhere on the bed, getting up and making your way to Yoongi. You stood next to him, watching the way he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. He sits there silently, carefully watching his lecture. When you see the right moment, you turn his chair a bit towards you, giving you enough room to squeeze your way through and sit on his lap while facing him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Baby—,” he sighs, “I told you I’m busy right now. I can’t have you on me like this.”
“But babyyy I miss youuu,” you whined, “can’t I get a recharge?”
You notice him completely freeze, slowly taking in what just happened—it was the first time in forever where you didn’t call him by his name.
You mentally smirk to yourself.
Now that’s what you were waiting for. 
He swallows hard, keeping his composure. 
“Yeah?” He hums, “I have the test tomorrow and I’m trying to get a good grade on it. If I let you sit here with me, you gotta promise me that you won’t distract me. This test means a lot to me. Got that, baby?”
You tighten your hold around him, nestling your head against the side of his neck. You nod your head at his words. Not because you agree or that you’d promise to follow his conditions. It was just for the sake of his sanity.
He clears his throat, hitting the play button and grabbing his pencil to continue scribbling down notes or whatever. 
Everything was pissing you off at the moment. 
You missed his hands being all over you and the way he’d fight his way to steal another kiss from you while you’re trying to push him away because he was always greedy for more. You wanted him to be annoyingly head over heels for you while you try to be nonchalant about it. And it’s also crazy to think that it’s only been a couple days and you’re acting like this over Yoongi not showing you the same attention as usual.
You give it some time. Patiently waiting until you thought it was time to get him all riled up—and then maybe he might just pay more attention to you. But being extremely patient at this moment is a pain in the ass, and you knew you didn’t want to drag this on forever. You move around on top of his lap, trying to somewhat grind against him as you pretend to get yourself more comfortable. You move your face closer to his neck, nuzzling your head on the top of his shoulder. You softly exhale, allowing your breath to hit and tickle his neck. 
Nothing. No reaction. 
You place your soft lips against his skin, giving him very light kisses on the same spot.
He slightly tilts his neck away without a word, causing you to huff in annoyance. You immediately bring your lips to his neck again, placing slow and gentle kisses on the side of his neck that instead lead to a spot under his ear and along his jawline.
He groans, clearly enjoying your actions but conflicted with the need to resist the temptation of you.
“Baby,” is all he says, voice sharp and stern. 
You pull away, sitting up straight to face him. 
“Enough.”
You could tell on his face that he was being serious.
Well..trying to. And it was cute—which is why he wasn’t as successful with intimidating you.
You roll your eyes at him, making your way towards him to pepper his jawline with kisses.
“But I miss youu,” you mumbled against his skin, making your way to his ear.
“…and I want you so bad, babyyy.”
You hear him mumble a “fuckin’ hell” under his breath and his hands creep underneath your thighs. He’s picking you up and you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck tightly. In no time, you feel your back hit against the bed. You watch him adjust himself so that he’s eye level with you as he hovers above you. Just by the look of his dark eyes, you knew you were in for it. 
“Yoongi—,” you squeaked.
“Hm?” He hums, voice rough. 
The atmosphere around him felt different this time. It was just hard to point out what it was. Nevertheless, you brushed it off. As desperate this may sound, you were finally getting what you wanted and you’re not going to let anything get in the way. All you wanted right now was him because—fuck—you miss him. 
“Please—,” you mumble.
It felt embarrassing to be underneath him like this with his hungry eyes beaming at you—and that’s all he’s been doing for the past how many minutes that felt like an eternity. You watch his eyes flicker from your eyes and down to your lips, clearly tempted to just devour you then and there but he doesn’t. He shifts in his position, bringing his right thigh in between your legs and pressed against your crotch, giving you the opportunity to grind against him—cuz fuck, you couldn’t help it. You wanted to be touched—you needed him to do something to help you get some relief but he didn't do anything.
He watches you carefully. The way your eyes flutter shut and open slowly as you attempt to grind against his thigh, begging for him to do something.  God, you were just so fucking tempting. But he couldn’t.
Instead, he brings his head to the side of your neck, peppering a messy line of light kiss along it. He leads the trail up towards the side of your jaw, almost mimicking exactly what you were doing earlier. Once he makes it to the spot underneath the lobe of your ear he pulls away.
“What do you want, princess?” He softly speaks into your ear. 
The sound of his voice and the way his breath hits your skin already sends shivers down your spine. It was really just the effect he had on you, and he never failed to make you feel this way. Your mind was already drunk off him, words also didn’t seem to want to come out of your mouth.
He removes his thigh away from you and sits up, getting another good look at you before he lowers himself more till he becomes face-to-face with your abdomen as he lays in between your legs. He lifts up the oversized hoodie you wore, but only exposing your tummy. From there, he started to place slow and soft kisses from below your chest and leading down to underneath your belly button. These actions were making you go crazy—maybe it has been too long since you’ve been touched this way by Yoongi.
He stops giving your tummy kisses when he reaches the spot under your belly button, making you whine out a little “please”.
“Mmm?” He hums, looks up at you as he sits back up to admire you. “What baby? You want me to go further, don’t you?”
You nod at him, your eyes telling him that you need more.
He gives you a lopsided smile before bringing his head to the side of yours, his lips slightly grazing the shape of your ear.
“I don’t fuck just anyone anymore, remember? My girlfriend is the only person I ever want to fuck.” 
What a damn smart ass.
He’s already pulling away chuckling before you could wrap yourself around him to keep him on top of you.
“Whaat?!” You whined, “—but Yoongi!”
He’s laying in between your legs, arms wrapped around your hips as he nuzzles the side of his head on your tummy. You watch him get comfortable and his breathing slows. 
“Yoongi,” you gently pat his head in annoyance.
Silence.
“Yoongi, wake up,” you huff.
Nothing.
The exhaustion finally caught up to him and made this man fall asleep on you just like that.
You grumble to yourself in annoyance—a perfectly good plan gone to waste. You do your best to shove him off you (of course it took a couple tries). Once you finally got him off you, you took your needy ass home.
That was just it.
Hoseok could deal with this man when he gets home!
You honestly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you’re in this position right now. The Yoongi you were seeing now was a complete 180 from the one you were dealing with yesterday.
“What’s with the little outfit you have underneath your hoodie, princess? Were you already expecting me to come over?”
His smile is cheeky, the thought of you waiting for him to come home in that outfit got him smiling like crazy. 
Fuck—it  made him way too happy.
You hum, carefully picking out your words.
“I was going to film something.”
“Yeah?” His eyes widen, and his imaginary tail starts to wag. “as a congratulatory gift, huh?” 
“That… or a ‘sorry-you-failed-you’ll-get-it-next-time’ gift,” you chuckle.
He scoffs at your words.
“You thought I wouldn’t pass?”
“I mean there was a possibility, wasn’t there, Yoongi?”
He chuckles, bringing his eyes from you down to your thighs.
“You don’t get it, baby,” he hums, fingers lightly grazing down your thigh, “you told me you’d be all mine if I passed this exam.” He pauses, removing his fingers from your thigh and brings his face closer to your skin, pressing chaste kisses that lead up to your inner thigh. He gently bites down, earning a little yelp from you.
Yoongi sits up to face you eye-to-eye again, admiring the annoyed look on your cute face yet there was a slight shift in his demeanor.
“There’s no way I’d ever want to lose to a prize like that, baby. And even if I weren’t able to pass that exam, you know damn well that I’ll make sure to make you want to be mine.”
He stares at you, mentally undressing you causing him to lick his lips. The way he looked at you made you feel small, despite his eyes flickering from your eyes, down to your lips, and to your bare legs. It suddenly felt embarrassing to be wearing such an outfit under a hoodie while being in front of Yoongi. 
As if he could sense your feelings, he gets off the bed and grabs your swivel chair from your desk, placing it right in front of the end of the bed. He takes a seat, leaning back with his legs spread and arms crossed over his chest.
“Show me what you were about to film.”
“Yoongi—,” you mess with the bottom of your hoodie, pulling it down to cover yourself some more, “—you know I can’t —.”
“Show. Me.” He interrupts, words sharp. His voice was low and demanding—and you hate to admit it but it was definitely turning you on.
You swallowed hard, awkwardly clearing your throat before answering him. 
“I’m—uh—,” you croaked.
“What is it?” 
“My—um…,” you mumbled “…it’s in the drawer on your right.”
He raises an eyebrow, turning to his side to pull open the drawer of your dresser. He rummages through it without looking until he feels a particular item he can already recognize. The boy brings it out, holding it in front of him with a snicker.
“You were going to use this too?” He’s waving it around, a big smile on his face.
Your grow even more embarrassed, face flushed. You look down, avoiding his gaze as you sheepishly nod your head.
“What a treat,” he hums, “but don’t you need to prepare yourself before using your little toy?”
You lift your head up only to find him still watching you with a teasing smile. 
“Let me see how you get yourself all nice and wet, princess—then I’ll hand this over to you.”
As you’re sitting on top of your legs in a kneeling position, you bring your thighs a little closer to each other—and he immediately notices it.
He’s tipping his head upwards, giving you a signal to “go on”. 
You could just not listen to him but in all honesty, you’ve been waiting so long to become intimate with him again. And knowing him—especially from what happened the other day—he’d definitely tease the shit out of you and not give you what you want if you don’t follow his orders.
You try to brush off the nerves you were feeling, moving your legs from underneath. Your legs were spread apart, knees bent and feet on top of the bed, giving him a good view of your skimpy, sheer underwear you chose to wear today. He could already tell you were wet—just from a quick glance at your panties he’s already spotted a little wet patch.
With just your index and middle finger, you take the two digits and place them over your panties and on top of your clit, rubbing it in small and slow circles. You were already closing your eyes, throwing your head back while moaning softly. Maybe it was the effect of his presence or just him overall but you felt even more turned on than when you do this by yourself.
“Panties to the side, princess.”
You do as he says, feeling the surge embarrassment run through you, causing your face to grow hot and red. You continue to slowly rub your wet clit, with your head turned to the side as you whimper and moan all while avoiding him.
“Don’t avoid your pussy, baby. It needs some attention too,” he hums, “put a finger in.”
You look at him, biting down on your lip as you remove your fingers from your clit.
You hesitate a bit before slowly inserting your middle finger into your heat, pumping it in and out as you turn your head away from him to avoid his gaze. You bit down on your lip with enough pressure to leave indents, suppressing your moans from Yoongi.
“So good baby, you’re such a good girl.” He coos.
“Your pussy is just sucking your finger right in, princess,” he chucked, “making a whole mess just from one finger.”
You ignored his comments, torn between concentrating imagining that your fingers were his own or his cock that were filling up your pussy, or the fact that you wanted to hide yourself and your moans from the man in front of you. God, it’s embarrassing—to be exposed and to be playing with your most private part right in front of a man you were head over heels for. Yoongi, however, wasn’t having it. He thought this whole thing was the biggest turn on he’s ever had. You were the sexiest girl on earth to him, especially with the nice treat of you playing with yourself. 
“Nnnggh—ahh~!” You yelped, quickly looking down to see the man in between your legs, eyes dark as he lapped up your overflowing essence. Your movements stutter, and he takes that as an opportunity to move your hand away and replace it with his, making you a bit noisier than before. He pulls his face away, thumb playing with your clit as he keeps eye contact with you.
“There we go, baby. Don’t hide that pretty face from me,” he smirks. It was easy for him to read you—he already knew that you would try to avoid his gaze. He’s tossing your pink dildo on the bed, removing his hand from your clit. He places each hand on the back of your thigh of each leg, pressing your legs against the sides of your chest and nearly folding you in half. This position was one of his favorites—he was always able to see everything while he ate you out.
He keeps a tight hold on your legs, making sure they stay in place. He switches from using a flat tongue while moving his head side to side to using just the tip of his tongue to stimulate your sensitive and erect clit before sucking it—completely indulging in all your juices that were flowing out of you. 
“W-wait!—please!” you squealed.
He has you squirming, lifting your hips in an attempt to get it away or closer to his face. The noises he made were obscene— loud slurps, low hums. He ran his tongue up and down your slit, lapping up the essence you produced. He uses that thick piece of muscle to probe at your hole, plunging it in and out of you. He buried his face into your pussy, his tongue moving around your hole as his nose brushes against your bead, allowing him to inhale the sweetest scent of you.
He loved watching the look you had on your face—cheeks brushed red, mouth hanging open, eyebrows furrowed. It was a sexy look—and being in this position where he had a good view of your lower half and your face could almost make him cum. He removes his hold from one leg, bringing that free hand to easily slide two fingers in you as he abuses your clit with his mouth, causing you to let out a strained gasp.
“Y-yoon…gi~!” You cried.
He hums against your clit before removing himself.
“Fuck, princess—,” he curls his fingers upwards as he thrusts them into you, “—you taste so damn good.”
“Please—! Need you!”
He’s chuckling at you—thought that you looked so damn adorable that he was contemplating to tease the shit out of you or completely fuck your brains out.
“Yeah? You need my cock, huh, baby?” With his two fingers in your pussy, he uses his thumb to rub your clit, causing you to clench around him. He becomes more aggressive with his thrusting of his fingers.
“Hhhnnghh—!” You squeak, feeling yourself about to reach your high. You’re gripping onto the sheets, arching your back. Right there—it was right there. You could feel the way he was trying to get you to release. But once you almost felt that wave of pleasure, it was quickly taken away from you. Your legs shake and you clench around nothing.
“You owe me a show, princess,” the man hums, bringing the wet digits to his mouth. He spreads his two fingers apart, making a v-shape as he takes his tongue and licks around his fingers—the slick, sticky essence coating them— all while making sure to maintain eye contact with you.
“Yooonggii—,” you whined with a pout, bringing your legs together to rub your thighs against each other to feel something. “Was almost there, Yoongi~,” you mumble with a pout, innocent eyes glistening at him. 
He’s standing up as you spoke, chuckling at how desperate you looked. 
“God, you’re fucking cute.”
It was clear to him how badly you wanted him to continue. But he had to hold himself back because he just had to play around with you. The man reaches over the bed to grab the sex toy he tossed earlier, holding up to show it to you.
“I got you all ready for this, baby. Show me how you use it.”
You look at him with a flushed face, lips pouting at the fact he wasn’t going to continue what he was doing earlier. It was annoying—stopping you from cumming just because he wants to see you ride your dildo. You were hoping the pleading look on your face would change his mind—make him want to continue, but he doesn’t budge. You slightly roll your eyes at him, reposition yourself to sit up in front of him on your knees again. 
He smirks, satisfied with how well you’re listening to him even though he can see right through you. Yoongi gently tosses the dildo in front of you before taking a seat. You took the toy into your hands, holding it as if it was a foreign object to you. 
“Go on, baby.” He hums, keeping his eyes on you. He looked relaxed; slightly slouched against the chair with his legs manspreading. 
You huff, mustering up the courage and to mentally preparing yourself to do such a lewd act in front of him (even though the two of you have already slept with each other and seen one another naked and whatnot…). You lift yourself up, standing on your knees with them slightly spread apart. You hold the bottom of your hoodie underneath your chin, which exposes just your tummy, while you try to position the toy underneath you. You bring your panties to the side to expose yourself, brushing just the tip against your slit which makes you clench around nothing. You  slowly sink down once you feel yourself wrap around the tip. 
“Haaa~,” you gasp, tilting your head back as you sink down even further. You’re a whimpering, mumbling mess when you have it completely in you—and fuck has it been a long time since you’ve actually used it or been fucked by Yoongi. You allow yourself to get yourself adjusted.
He focuses on how your face scrunches up and how your mouth hangs open, since you’ve let go of the bottom part of your hoodie and is now covering where all the action was. 
You missed this feeling of being full that it was making you go crazy. You wanted to stay like this, but for some reason you felt like wanting to move. You lift your hips up in an attempt to have the toy just barely in you, but it doesn’t slide out of you so you sit down again.
“Your pussy isn’t letting it go, princess. You’re gripping it so tightly,” he chuckles, leaning forward so that he’s closer to you and the bed. “I’ll hold it for you, baby.”
You nod, lifting your legs up as you try to relax yourself, letting your dildo slide out and onto the bed. You stood there on your knees, waiting for him to do something.
He brings his hand to the bottom of your hoodie.
“Hold this up with your mouth for me, baby. Make sure this part is the part you’re holding with your mouth”
You look at him a bit weird, not fully understanding his specific request but you do it anyway. You bring the fabric up to your mouth, now completely revealing your lingerie to him.
Ah…What a smartass.
He notices you roll your eyes at him, making him chuckle. He takes the sex toy and holds it with the base in his palm.
“Alright, baby. Go at it.” He’s positioned the dildo underneath you, waiting for you to get on it again. 
The two of you make eye contact as you slowly sink down again. You feel the tip of the toy brush against your wet folds, causing you to bite down on the fabric a little harder than before. 
Why are you more excited? Is it because of Yoongi? 
Fuck, you wanted him badly.
As you slowly slide yourself down on the dildo, you’re  immediately throwing your head back again, breaking eye contact but he continues to watch you. You feel yourself reach the end of it, only for you to immediately raise your hips and again to slowly start moving up and down. You find a rhythm as you bounce on the toy, your hands finding their way to massage your breasts, massaging them with the lingerie still on as your moans are slightly muffled from the fabric in your mouth. 
“Look at you playing with yourself. You look so sexy, princess. You were going to film something like this for me, right baby?” He hums, reaching over in his pocket to take out his phone. He opens up the camera app, tilting his phone upwards to get the whole view of you and starts to record you. “I'll help you and be your cameraman—look at the camera, princess.”
At first he gets a shot of all of you—you glancing down at him and the camera with a flushed face before quickly throwing your head back, hands grabbing at your own breast over the sheer fabric covering them, your hips moving on its own as you bounced up and down. He then pans the camera to your pussy swallowing up your dildo.
“Yeah, keep moving like that, baby. You’re making such a creamy mess on your dildo like a good girl. You’re gripping so hard—fuck, baby,” he groans lowly.
He watches the way all your overflowing juices were pooling at the base of the dildo and makes sure to get a good shot of it before tossing it to the side.
“Take the hoodie off, baby.”
You do as he says, tossing the fabric somewhere on the floor. He takes in the way you looked in the skimpy piece of clothing you wore underneath. 
God, you blew him away. 
You were just so. damn. beautiful. 
The white made you look heavenly—angelic, actually. And the lacey, sheer fabric that covered you wasn’t necessary at this point, but damn did it do a good job at catching his eye. The set you had on also had some frills on it, along with a little bow in the middle of your waistband and of your bra. It all suited you—it was perfectly made for you.
He literally just couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
With his free hand, he caresses the curve of your waist to the curve of your hips. He takes a finger and curls it underneath the thin waistband of your panties, following it slowly until he removes it once he reached the middle of your thigh. Yoongi brings his hand up to your chest, using his index finger and thumb to pinch your erect nipple right through the sheer fabric.
“Haaahh~,” you stutter in your movements, letting out an airy moan.
God, he needed you so bad.
He takes the hand that is holding your dildo, flicking his wrist upwards, causing you to fall forwards and pause your movements. He slides your dildo back out, only just to slam it back in and keep it at a steady pace—fucking you with your dildo as you stay still leaning over him. His free hand goes to the side of your ass, helping you stay up.
“Yoongi—!” You whine, your arms making its way to link behind the man’s neck. Your chest is nearly pressed against his face, giving him the opportunity to grab a mouthful of your breast. 
The man encases your hard nipple through the fabric in his mouth, biting down on it enough to get another moan of his name out of your mouth.
“Nnnghh~!” You squeal, pulling him closer to you. 
He then begins to suck on your nipple, toying with the metal bar that’s pierced right through it. With how sheer the fabric is, he’s practically sucking on you rather than the fabric.
Your legs begin to shake as he starts to pick up the pace with your dildo. You could feel that high again, the same feeling you felt earlier when he was eating you out like a goddamn monster.
“Yoongi!” You chant with your mouth slightly hung open, “please! Right there—!”
He’s slamming the dildo inside you, filing you all the way. He’s hitting the spot that made you roll your eyes backwards, your mouth hanging open and spewing nonsense.
He removes himself from your breast, pulling back to take a look at your face, admiring how sexy you are. God—he can’t get over you.
“Go ahead and cum for me, baby,” he mumbles lowly, “lose yourself already.”
He uses the hand on your ass to guide you on your dildo while the other hand has it sliding in and out of you. He brings his lips to your collarbone, trailing kisses towards and up your neck.
You breathe heavily, mouth hung wide open as pleasure takes over you. It almost felt like you were being fucked by him, but it was nearly enough. 
“Yoongi—yoongi!” You chant before losing yourself. You rest your head on his shoulder, listening to your heart pound crazy while you catch your breath. 
“Good job, baby, you did so good.” He kisses the side of your head, slowly removing the dildo from your pussy, earning a little whine from you.
He lets you sit down on his clothed lap, your wetness probably leaving marks on his sweats. At this point, you could most definitely feel how hard he was right now. You lift your head up and look at him with fucked out eyes. Your hands were clasped behind his neck, while his hands rested on your waist.
You grind yourself against his hard erection, hoping he gets the hint that you wanted him now instead of having you beg for it.
The corner of his mouth lifts up to a small smirk.
He’s lifting you up as he gets you both off the bed. He’s turning around, gently bringing you down on top of the bed.
“Lie down for me, baby,” his voice low.
He gets a view of you again in your sexy lingerie. Yes, this fucking sexy ass lingerie—god, all the mental photos he has of you will definitely be on repeat in his mind. He didn’t want to remove it. I mean—it would be a waste if he had to. Just the look of you in such a pretty yet skimpy outfit made him go crazy. 
You attempt to be quick with closing your legs again, keeping some modesty. However, he was able to beat you by bringing his hands on either of your legs and pushing them slightly down to keep you wide open for him.
“So pretty,” he mumbles under his breath as he salivates at the look of your body. You grew embarrassed again, having the urge to shut your legs to cover you up but Yoongi was too strong for you.
“Can you tell me what you want next, baby?”
You already knew he was going to tease you—actually he probably just wanted to hear those words come right out of your mouth. It would be music to his ears.
“Yoongi, please…,” you mumble, “don’t you want to fuck me?” You give him the most innocent doe eyes that you could, hoping he could lose himself already.
He chuckles.
“Of course, princess,” he brings himself closer to you, taking his painful erection and grinds himself against your slick, teasing your little hole. “You want me to fuck you like this? With my clothes on? It’s making such a mess on my pants, baby.”
You bite down on your bottom lip, shaking your head no. You wanted more, and you know that he knows that already.
“Thought so,” he hums. “Be specific, baby. Tell me what you want me to do.”
You hesitate a bit, but his teasing was enough to make you more upfront with what you wanted.
“Take your clothes off too, Yoongi.”
“Mmm…were you feeling alone?”
“Extremely, Yoongi”
He chuckles as he removes every piece of his clothing from his body, tossing it wherever in the room.
“Can’t let my baby feel that way,” he hums.
Your eyes go from his to below his waist, watching him slowly remove his boxers and revealing his cock. It was thick and long, an angry red at the tip with a bit of precum oozing out. 
Your hand gravitates towards it, holding it by the base and squeezing it a little. You completely forgot how big and girthy he was. As you slide your hand up and down his cock, you got him lowly groaning while you thought to yourself about whether or not this thing could fit in you again. But fuck—you wanted him so bad. 
“…please Yoongi,” you remove your hand from his cock, looking up at him, “fuck me already.”
He’s smiling, bringing his cock closer to your core. He takes his thumb to push his cock on top of your slit, and keeps it there. He slides himself back and forth, coating himself with your slick, teasing you as he rubs the tip of his cock against your clit.
You let out a little whine from his touch. 
“Want your cock inside me, Yoongi,” you mumble.
He’s leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, his facing hovering yours.
“It’s all yours, baby.”
He’s leans in again to steal a passionate kiss from you, while he slowly pushes his cock inside your soaked hole. You slightly pull away from him, your mouth hanging open, spewing out soft moans as he fills you up. 
He gives you the chance to get used to him being inside you. And fuck, did he miss your fucking pussy. 
He pulls his hips back, letting you miss the feeling of him filling you up before he slams himself right back into you again.
“Haaah~! Yoongi!” You say breathlessly. Your hands crawl to hold the sides of his face, as he continues to leave a trail of scattered kisses from the side of your neck and down to your chest. He’s pulling the cup of your bra down, exposing you before he latches on to your pierced nipple. 
He starts to pick up the pace as he thrusts into you; finally leaving your breasts alone with hickies that mark you as his. He stands straight to look down at you, watching you writhing underneath him. He pulls the other cup to your bra to expose the other perky and pierced breast. His eyes mesmerized by the face you were making as you were getting fucked by him, your tight pussy sucking him right up, and your tits bouncing everywhere—god it felt like they made him even harder.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he grunts as he thrusts into you, “you’re all mine, huh?”
You let out little more whimpers and moans, unable to make out any sentences. He chuckles, wanting to see you lose more of yourself. He lifts your leg and puts it over your shoulder, wanting to penetrate you even deeper. He takes his right thumb and gives it a quick lick with his tongue before placing it right on your clit, rubbing it in circles.
“Nnnggh—ah! Yoongi!” You yelp.
“My pretty girl. You take me in so well, huh?”
He watches you let out louder moan, realizing that his cock grazed your most sensitive spot.
He’s snapping his hips hard against you. He lifts his knee up to place it on the bed, angling himself so that he could continuously hit that spot that had you rolling your eyes back. He presses down on your clit harder, torturing it with quick and small tracings of a circle.
You’re mumbling nonsense, spewing out whatever came out of your mouth. He could feel you tightening around him, making him let out another groan.
He looks down at the area where you two were connected, admiring the creamy mess you were making on his dick. His eyes wander upwards to your heavenly body. Then up to your cute face, making all kinds of sounds as he pounded you—God, he’s actually going insane, he was grunting with every thrust. 
“W-wait! Haahnngh~! Yoongi!” You bring a hand to his abdomen, weakly trying to push him away as he’s drilling himself inside of you. 
“Please!” You whined, “s-something’s coming out!” 
A soft smile slowly forms on the man’s face as he watches yours—mouth hung open, nonsense whining. You were writhing underneath him, trying to get away from him but he wouldn’t let you. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead before putting more strength into his thrusts.
“Yoongi!” You yelped, letting out helpless whines as you can feel yourself about to reach your high. 
Your hands wrap around his back, your sharp nails scratching him enough to show red lines and possibly make him bleed. 
He gives a final thrust, causing you to squirt all over his pelvis area and onto the bed when he removes himself from your hole.
“Fuck…,” he grumbles under his breath.
He watches your chest move up and down, eyes closed as you’re still trying to recover from what just happened.
“You made a fucking mess, baby. You squirted all over me.”
Your eyes shot open, propping yourself up with your elbows to look down at what you did.
“I just…?” You lay yourself down again, covering your eyes in humiliation. It’s the first time you’ve done that before. “Yoongi—this is so embarrassing,” you whined.
“Embarrassing?” He’s leaning forward to kiss the back of your hands before gently removing them away from your face, eyes now on him. “That was sexy as fuck, baby.”
He’s lifting you to sit you up before he carries you again. He sits first on the edge of the bed, placing you on his lap while facing forward. Right in front of you, you had a view of the two of your naked, sweaty bodies. Hickies scatter across your chest, your legs spread apart and glistening from you making the biggest mess. You feel your cheeks grow red from looking at yourself.
He helps remove your sheer, lace bra off. His hands roam around until they glide up and down the sides of your waist.
“Look how sexy you are, baby. So, so fucking sexy.”
He’s tapping on the side of your ass, signaling for you to lift your bottom just a bit, which you did, as he helps you remove your panties. He holds his cock up, and helps you guide your hips to it. You slowly slide down on his cock, fully taking him whole, causing you to let out a shaky moan.
“Bring your feet up, baby.”
You do it, placing one foot on either side of him and near the edge of the bed. He has his chest against your back, an arm holding your waist to keep you steady while his other hand is pushed against the bed behind him to hold him up.
“Bounce for me, princess. And keep your eyes on the mirror. Need you to see what I see when I fuck you.”
You bite down on your lip, looking at him through the mirror and he tips his head again telling you to “go on”. You slowly lift your hips up, feeling somewhat empty without his cock in you, until you drop yourself down on him. The fullness had you moaning out his name, throwing your head back in pleasure.
“I told you to watch yourself, didn’t I?”
You keep a steady pace on his cock, your eyes closed and mouth hanging open again.
“…too embarrassing—,” you moan.
He scoffs, annoyed with your response. He wanted you to see how you looked—how your body reacts when you have his cock stuffed inside of you. He wasn’t going to let that answer slide.
The man hooks his arms under the back of your knees, carrying you while he keeps himself in you. Your eyes flash open when you feel yourself in the air.
“W-wait! Yoongi!” Your hands go to your face to cover your eyes. You lay your back more against him to keep yourself from falling forward.
He’s moving you on his cock with no difficulties. He has you bouncing up and down, while you’re still trying to process what’s going on.
“Look at how much of a slut you fucking look like, princess,” his voice low and gravely. 
The contrast of his words turn you on. Peaking through your fingers, you catch a glimpse of your glistening, naked body. 
“Remove them, now.”
You swallow hard, finally facing yourself. Your eyes wander, watching the way your pussy took in your boyfriend’s cock, how you were making such a damn mess on it, the way your perky breasts bounced around while he thrusted upwards into your pussy. It was all so vulgar—a dirty scene that came out of a porno.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby. This is the view that I get—andI’m the only one who gets to have this view.”
Despite feeling slightly embarrassed about watching yourself, you couldn’t help but feel a bit more turned on. Who knew you could make such a dirty yet sexy expression?
You’re furrowing your eyebrows, mouth hung open as you whimper and moan. Your hand travels down to your lower abdomen, holding it there to feel a slight bulge whenever Yoongi pushes himself in you. It was actually insane to you to be able to feel and see this.
“Go lower, baby. Play with yourself.”
Your hand slowly inches lower, grazing your skin. You take a finger and draw small, slow circles on your clit. You watch yourself through the mirror, your eyes flickering to watch your scrunched up face to how Yoongi was pounding your pussy while you played with your swollen, sensitive bead.
“Fuck—that’s it baby. You listen so well,” he grunts. 
He adjusts his hold under you, making it more comfortable for him to slide you in and out of him while he fucks you harder underneath. He was basically doing bicep curls at this point—his muscles were nearly on fire but he couldn’t care any less.
“More pressure baby.”
You follow his commands, and you have yourself throwing your head back again as you lose yourself. Your sensitive clit makes your hips shake, causing you to squeeze tightly around him. You hear Yoongi slightly growl in your ear, going crazy because of you. 
“You’re milking my cock so hard—you want my cum that bad, huh?” His voice was gruff.
He holds you a bit lower, stopping his little bicep curls and instead continues to fuck you from underneath at a faster pace and with more forceful thrusts.
“Ngggh—ahh~!” You yelp from the change in speed.
“Don’t fucking remove your fingers. Keep playing with yourself.”
You were nearly seeing stars again. You couldn’t think straight. But you could feel that same feeling you felt earlier, and you knew you just couldn’t hold that knot in your stomach anymore.
“F—fuck! Yoongi! Ah—!” You cried, “cumming!”
“Fucking cum for me, baby. Lose yourself already.” 
He’s thrusting you with all the power he can, while his face was stuck on watching your reaction on your airbrushed slightly red face. 
Soon, he's pulling out of your slippery, wet hole. Your mouth makes an “o” shape, before crying out Yoongi’s name as you orgasm again.  Your body fluids shot out of you and coating the mirror—and you squirt again, just as he was wanting to get you to do. 
Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes closed as you were trying to catch your breath. You could feel your hips still twitching from being so sensitive. This was something you’ve never experienced before. 
He’s kissing the side of your head, mumbling sweet words. He gently lays you back down on the bed on your back, allowing you some time to relax for a bit. You can feel the mix of his and your fluids seeping out of your hole, dripping down to your other puckered hole.
Your eyes flutter open and they couldn’t help but take a quick scan at the naked man’s body that stood in front of you. As you look lower, you can’t help but notice that his cock was still painfully hard, standing up straight with a slight curve to it.
He towers over you, watching every small movement you make. Although he was being sweet to give you some time to rest, by the look he was making you could tell he was hungrily waiting for the next round. He licks his lips as a lazy smile forms on his face as your eyes finally meet.
“Yoongi…,” you mumble. Your hand makes its way to his length, wrapping your fingers around it. Your essence still coats him, making it slippery enough for you to slowly stroke his cock. You look up at him with half-lided eyes.
He lowly groans in pleasure, throwing his head back for a second before bringing it back to look at you.
“Mmm…yes, baby?” 
“All that fucking and you’re still so hard?”
He’s laughing, an odd thing to do when someone is giving you a handjob. 
“I can’t get enough of you, baby.”
“Yeah?” You hum, slowing your movements. 
He takes his hand and wraps it around yours, helping you pump his cock before he starts to guide it to your slit. The two of you drag the tip against your wet folds.
“Looks like it’s the same for you too, baby. You’re fucking wet again.” He’s pushing himself into you again, the two of you letting go of his cock. He slowly sinks in, getting a little whimper out of you.
“All that fucking and you’re still clenching onto me so tightly, baby. You really love my cock inside you, huh?”
He’s pulling out, still keeping the tip in, before he thrusts back into you. 
“Mmmph~! F-fuck…! Yesss, Yoongi.”
He’s chuckling again, keeping his pace steady.
“Yeah?” He hums, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your thigh to keep it steady. Taking his free hand, he uses it to press firmly against your lower abdomen. You’re mumbling nonsense again from this new feeling of pleasure.
“God—I fucking love you,” he grunts, bringing your other leg over his shoulder. He’s leaning against you, practically folding your body in half just to reach you even deeper. This position had you rolling your eyes back, reaching for any body part of him to dig your fingernails into his skin. Yoongi would switch it up at times—from giving you fast yet shorter strokes to taking his sweet time as he pulls himself nearly all the way out just to slowly bring himself back in. However, he made it his goal to make sure every thrust was sharp enough to bruise your cervix. 
Your mouth hangs open, nothing but airy moans escaping from it with every thrust he makes. He brings his face to yours, using this opportunity to probe his tongue into your mouth. His tongue dances along with yours before he captures it in his mouth. He’s sucking on it, eliciting more moans from you but he removes himself to swallow them. You pull away to catch your breath, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter.
“Gonna…cum—,” you mumble under your breath. 
Yoongi huffs, giving you small pecks on the sides of your mouth. He really didn’t need you to let him know. He could already tell by the way your insides were clamping onto him. 
He’s quickly removing himself from you, denying your orgasm. The man watches your hips move in desperation, your hole spasming around nothing as he helps you rest your legs on the bed.
“Yoongiii—hnngh…,” you cried, voice whiney. “So mean,” you quietly mumble.
He smirks at your words.
Without any word, he rolls you onto your stomach. The man lifts your hips upwards to have your ass sticking up and spreads your legs apart. He pushes the upper portion of your body against the mattress, your arms cushion your head as you lay there. With his large hand, he presses on the small of your back, helping you with a deeper arch. 
“Beg for my cock, baby.”
You turn your head around to look back at him, shaking your head in disagreement while he has you in this position.
His left eyebrow lifts up and a dark chuckle escapes his lips.
“You were behaving so well earlier, princess.” He hums, taking his dick and running it through your wet folds to collect your arousal. “Now you want to be a brat?”
“Don’t want to beg anymore,” you mumble.
He scoffs. “So should I end it here?”
“Go ahead. I’ll find someone else who could do a better job then. They would let me cum.”
He smacks the sides of your ass, getting a yelp out of you.
“Watch your mouth.”
“Maybe I can call up this one guy—.”
He grasps the sides of your ass, spreading them apart to reveal your needy pink, dripping hole. He slowly sinks into you, causing you to let out a shaky moan. Yoongi keeps still inside of you, making sure you’re taking in all of him.
“You only need me, baby—your fucking boyfriend. I’m the only one who gets to see you this way and get you to cum.”
He can’t help but absolutely hate the sound and the thought of you with another man. It drove him crazy just hearing you mention “some other guy”.
Your eyebrows furrowed together, little moans coming out of you as being stuffed with his dick made you go dumb in the head.
“—Yoongi—ngggh—! Move!”
He lifts your hips higher, pressing the small of your back to get you to arch your back more. He leans over you, his pelvis pressed against your ass, making you feel his dick even further in you, causing you to let out a swear. He leaves gentle kisses on the back of your naked shoulder.
“Say please,” he mumbles into your skin.
“F—fuck, Yoongi!” You grumble, annoyed at his words.
He waits patiently, letting his silence and your soft whimpers fill the air. The man couldn’t care less if he had to stay in the position for hours—he loved the feeling of your soft, warm, and wet pussy pulsating around him. 
And with that, you knew you couldn’t win.
 “—Please—!” You cry out. 
“Remind me who I am again.”
“—boyfriend!” You quickly spat out, desperate for him to move already.
“You gonna be a good girl for me again?”
You’re quick to nod your head ‘yes’.
He grins at your response, happy with how easy he can get you to be submissive when you’re full of his cock.
“Now was that so hard to do, princess?”
He’s pulling out, just the tip barely in you.
“…annoying,” you mumble under your breath.
He slams himself into you again, causing you to moan out his name.
“Yeah? I’m annoying too, huh? A big mean, annoying boyfriend, right?”  His voice was low and gravelly.
He starts to find a rhythm and pace as he starts to pound your pussy. Snapping his hips to make sure his skin hits against yours as loud and as hard as he can, the noises filling the room and the skin of your ass slowly turning a shade of red.
He’s searching for your dildo that was thrown somewhere nearby. Once he finds it, he’s immediately taking it. He leans over you as he fucks you, placing the dildo in front of you. Yoongi halts his movements, removing himself from you.
“Yoongi~,” you whine, swaying your ass side to side. You push your hips back, trying to find him so you could reconnect again.
God, this view—this scenario. It’s all he could easily get used to.
“C’mon, baby you can’t be doing that to me,” he slightly groans, “you’re driving me crazy.”
“Please,” you mumble, bringing your hands behind you. You place one hand on the sides of your ass, gently spreading it apart so that Yoongi has a better view of your weeping hole. You turn your head to look back at him as you hold yourself in this position, swaying your ass side to side. “Please go crazy and fuck me already, Yoongi.”
What a fucking invite.
“Fuck,” he hissed, running his hand through his wet hair. He could feel all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, making him painfully harder. His mind went damn blank just from hearing you say that while being in such a pornographic position. 
You seriously knew how to turn him on. 
How fucking dangerous.
He’s bringing himself closer to you, rubbing his erect cock in between your ass, allowing it to slide back and forth. It gets you impatient, causing you to wiggle your ass again as he continues with his movements.
“Be a good girl and keep that dildo in your mouth while I fuck you, alright princess?” He gives the side of your ass another gentle slap as a form of encouragement.
Yoongi patiently waits for you to start bobbing your head, along with the vulgar slurping noises you obnoxiously made.
Did you really enjoy having that dildo inside your mouth when he was right behind you?
He mentally scoffs out of jealousy, knowing that he shouldn’t be feeling this way at all. 
You became louder with your muffled moans once Yoongi was inside of you again, making those dumb thoughts disappear. The view of you being filled up both way clearly made him way too hard—he was instantly fucking you at a brutal pace, almost as if he hasn’t touched you in ages.
He’s rougher this time; using one hand to gather your hair and make a makeshift ponytail just to wrap it around his hand to help you guide your head along your dildo while the other free hand is gripping the side of your ass as he fucked you from behind.
“You’re so fucking good, baby. Sucking on your dildo while I fuck you senseless, just like a pretty little slut you are.” 
His thrusts had more force to them, your skin turning redder than before. He wanted to demolish you, make you melt underneath him. All you could do was hum into your dildo in pleasure, holding onto the base for dear life. You could feel tears threatening to spill out of your eyes whenever your dildo would reach deeper in your throat, causing you to gag on it. Of course, Yoongi thought all of this was sexy. God, it was fucking sexy.
He found that one spot again that has your mind spinning. The man angles himself so that he kept hitting that spot over and over again.
You immediately pull away from your dildo, drool escaping from the sides of your mouth.
“Y-yoongi—!” You yelped, your hands let go of the dildo after you toss it to the side, now gripping onto the sheets.
He releases his grip on your hair, moving his hand to the front of your neck to pull you up and your back arched against him, changing the position again. The other hand around your waist to keep you steady.
Yoongi brings the side of his head to yours.
“Not gonna let you get away from me,” his gravely voice whispers against your ear—and god did that send tingles down your spine.
The pressure of his hand around your neck was pleasurable enough to keep you lightheaded. However that hand goes to toy with your breasts, fiddling with piercing and pinching your nipple before taking a big handful of your breast to massage it as he fucked you.
He finally brings his hand to your front, pressing his two fingers against your swollen and sensitive bead. You feel your hips twitch, unable to control your body movements. All you could feel in this moment was how hard the two of your heartbeats were and pure ecstasy. This man knew how to fuck. Scratch that—he knew how to fuck you. He’s already memorized what had you throwing your head back, what’s got you clenching so damn tightly around him, or what has you babbling nonsense just from fucking you a couple times.
“Yoon—gi! Haaah~!” You turn your head to the side and towards him. He brings his face to yours, attacking your lips again before you pull away a moaning mess.
“Fuck—you take me in so goddamn good, baby,” he grunts, “you wanna cum, huh, baby?”
You’re nodding your head, feeling yourself nearly on the brink of losing yourself again. He’s just about bruised your cervix enough and made your damn clit so swollen and sensitive to touch. You knew you were already making a mess around his dick.
He moves his hand away from your breast and around your waist again, embracing you and holding you tightly for what’s yet to come. Your arms hold onto his arm with one of your hands interlocking with his, a gesture that had him feeling like his heart grew 10x in size. He loves you. He’s way too in love with you—head over heels at this point.
If it was even possible, he’s fucking you even harder. Grunting into your ear, telling you how good you are, how damn pretty you are—how fucking perfect you are, practically made just for him. It was all enough for you to finally lose it, and it was the same for him too. He’s groaning in pleasure when he feels your pussy twitching around him. His warm cum coats the inside of your walls before it oozes out when he removes himself. You fall forward and lay against the bed with your arms weakly holding you up. He watches the mixture of your cum slowly dripping out before he takes his two fingers to push it right back in, only for it to slip out again. He’s quick to get the kleenex tissues to wipe you up, letting you have some time to  catch your breath. You’re rolling over to finally lay down on your side, watching the boy walk through the door.
“I went ahead and got the bath running, baby,” he hums, helping you sit back up. He pulls you onto his lap, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple. 
“You’re insane, Yoongi.”
“Am I?” He lazily smiles.
“I really don’t know what possessed you back there.”
He laughs, “Baby, I haven’t had a taste of you like that in so damn long. I couldn’t help it.” 
Before you knew it, he had you relaxing in the bathtub while he cleaned up the room and got it ready with new sheets and all for the two of you to get some rest. 
You could feel Yoongi’s body pressed against your back; his arm sitting across your waist and his head nuzzled against the back of your head. This was all something you had never imagined for yourself—to be lovingly cuddled like this after a long night with your now boyfriend who was an ex “fuckboy” from your school, but it’s definitely something you could get used to. 
You carefully remove yourself from his hold, quickly replacing yourself with one of your pillows. You glance over at him to see his sleeping figure one last time before leaving, and softly scoff with a smile on your face. 
This man is actually very cute when he’s sound asleep.
You quietly pick out some new clothes before tip-toeing away to your bathroom across the hall to get yourself ready for that well-deserved shower.
-
After putting on your clothes, you open the bathroom door, letting all the moisture and heat out. You take the time to gently brush your hair a little more after blow drying it, then applying some hair oil to the ends of it.
“You can’t just leave me like that and expect me to be okay with it.”
Your head quickly turns around to see the mumbling boy, squinting a half-asleep eye at you while using one of their fists to rub one of their other eye. You chuckle at his appearance—his naked torso and his boxers. He stood there in between the door frame, looking like an actual child who just woke up.
“It was just a quick shower, babe.” You turn around to the mirror and continue what you were doing. “I’ll be in the room soon.”
He grunts, making his way towards you as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him and lays his head on top of your shoulder.
“Yoongi~,” you whined with a soft chuckle. 
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s only allowed in bed.”
“Mm, so last night was just it, huh?”
He snorts with a chuckle at your comment, barely having enough energy to react a lot bigger.
“‘One time’ my ass. You’re stuck with me. Not letting you off that easy.”
He turns to your head and presses kisses to your hair. You bring a hand up to gently pat the side of his cheek.
“Congrats on passing the class,” you mumble, “and for finally getting that boyfriend title you’ve been wanting.”
Yoongi turns to look at you with a big smile on his face through the mirror, your hand gently caressing the side of his face. The two of you turn to each other, pressing a small kiss on the lips before pulling away.
“I know a better way you could congratulate me.”
You immediately knew exactly what he was hinting.
“You told me you’d give me whatever I want plus the boyfriend title.”
Fuck—yeah, you did promise that.
You sigh in defeat.
“…Breakfast first?” You bat your eyelashes at him, giving him that doe-eyed look that made his heart flutter like crazy.
He looks at you with so much adoration, in awe that this beautiful girl was finally his. 
-
if you got this far, thank you for the read <3 :)
i hope you enjoyed!! pls check out my other work!
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mysticwolfshadows · 4 months
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I see a lot of Arthur making Merlin Court Sorcerer after learning about his magic (and forgiving him for the lies). But I want to see more of... Arthur just not realizing how powerful Merlin is. Like, Arthur finds out, and then realizes that Merlin uses it for chores and dropping tree branches on bandits. He doesn't know about him being a dragonlord, or about Nimueh, or about the prophecy. So Arthur thinks Merlin is just another sorcerer.
So then, when the laws are changed and they're talking about getting a Court Sorcerer, Merlin isn't brought up at all. Merlin doesn't care, either, since he doesn't want a title. So they try one person, and they turn out to be shit, Gaius refuses because god damn he just wants to retire, and there may have been a few assassination attempts during interviews.
So Camelot doesn't have a Court Sorcerer forever, but they have sorcerers everywhere, and Arthur needs advice on magic, so he asks Gaius and Merlin, the only sorcers that he knows. So they teach him about what they know. Like warlocks being rare people with inate magic power. And how being able to cast spells without incantations is extremely difficult and only done by the most powerful of warlocks.
And then, almost a year into not hqving an offical Court Sorcerer, they're preparing for the 1 year celebration feast of the ban lifting, when an assassin shows up out of nowhere. And Merlin, tired and working overtime to get this feast ready, just shoots the assassin a look, and the man crumbles to the ground.
The knights and Arthur are just... so confused. And poke the motionless on the floor. And then look at Merlin, who is still smoothing out fancy linen tablecloths. Andd Arthur just kinda points and asks, "did you...?"
And Merlin just glances over and nods. And Arthur looses it.
"You used magic. Without an incantation. And you never told me you could?!"
Merlin just blinks. "Didn't think I had to?"
That night, at the feast, Arthur anounces Merlin as Court Sorcerer, much to Merlin's horror.
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servicpop · 4 months
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✶ ﹑ㅤtutoring seshㅤ﹏
NOW STARRING : adrien x bottom m!reader
「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤtutor sesh w/ your deliquent situationship but he can't focus on the studying, only you!
✙ warnings — parents are home , manhandling(?) , obsessive 'n a little pervy adrien , slight hair pulling , bodyworship(?) , Adrien is a little silly in this fic
notes ,, this was supposed to be short but I got carried away ^^;
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Adrien had called you over to his house for a "tutoring session." For past few weeks, Adrien has been near-failing practically every single class except for gym class and whatnot. Realising he needed to improve his grades or he'll never graduate with you, he called you on one faithful evening to come over and help him study.
Obviously you complied; it was nice to see Adrien showing some sort of motivation to improve, so you changed into some casual clothes and began to walk to his house. You had prepared your laptop, pencil case, and textbooks, all ready to put in a few hours of tutoring. When you arrived at his front door, you grazed the back of your knuckles against the wood and knocked once or twice, expecting Adrien to show up with a proud smirk like he always did.
But it wasn't Adrien. When the door swung open, you saw his mother. You've only seen her once or twice but never up-close like this. The words caught in your throat as you clutched the straps of your bags, trying to find the words that never came. As if heaven answered your prayers, you saw Adrien jogging down the stairs and to the door, leaning on the door frame with his arm held above his head.
"You came," He grinned, taking the bag from your shoulders as he pulled you inside by your wrist. He helped you take off your shoes cinderella style and neatly placed them beside the doorway. He was awfully caring right now. Your hands felt crammy as you took a glance at Adrien's mother watching the two of you interact, a small blush dusted your ears while you quickly turned away. It must've looked like you were dating with the way she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
"Well, mom, we'll be in my room if you'd excuse us," Adrien flashed a toothy smile at his mother before snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. As he walked you up the stairs, Adrien found an opportunity to tease you, "You nervous meeting my mom?" He asked, squeezing your sides playfully. You shoot him an unamused gaze and he lets out a hearty chuckle from that. Adrien's hand wrapped around his gold doorknob, twisting it before he halted for a second. "Uh, wait here for a second, I gotta clean up my room," he didn't even wait for a response before slipping into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.
"Shit," Adrien muttered under his breath as he quickly shoved the polaroids and photos of you from his desk and into his drawer. He couldn't let you see how god damn obsessed he was about you. He couldn't let you see the photos of yourself stained with a white sheen, no, he wouldn't want to scare you off.
Adrien finally emerged from his room, pushing the door wide open for you to come in with a smile. You didn't question it. As you walked in, you were instantly hit with the scent of his cologne and natural musk. It wasn't a strong enough scent to burn your nose but it would still take you awhile to get used to it. Besides the scent, Adrien's bedroom was relatively clean for a guy who was titled 'the school deliquent.' He had a few sports posters plastered on the walls and his shelf had a few trophies from his childhood. You spotted the baseball bat leaned up against the wall alongside with the volleyball and basketball resting next to eachother. Adrien was sure athletic.
As you two sat down beside your desk, you pulled out all the equipment needed for studying and turned to Adrien, "What do you wanna study?" You asked him and got a small shrug in response. Well, why not start with biology since you conveniently happen to have a textbook that covered the subject.
Around 30 minutes pasted and you were diligently teaching him about human anatomy, glancing over to see him nodding once or twice. You thought it was going well but Adrien on the other hand... He was too focused on the way your hands glided against the pages, tapping the pen against the paper rhythmically, and how your eyes fluttered to him ever so often. Shit, he was horny as hell right now. Just the thought of those hands intertwining with his as he fucks the intelligence out of you is enough to get his blood pumping to the wrong places.
"Adrien? Are you listening?" Your voice snaps him out of his twisted fantasies and he leaned in closer to you, his voice dropping down to a whisper, "You know, I'm a hands-on, visual learner..." That shit-eating grin spread across his face as Adrien pat his lap enticingly, trying to draw your attention to the print in his sweatpants. But knowing you, you wouldn't give in so easily — you were called here to tutor him, not anything else.
"Just answer one more question and I'll—" Before you could even finish your sentence, Adrien's arms wrapped around your waist and he hoisted you up from the chair, practically slinging you over his shoulder. His forearms flexed around you, making sure you didn't fall before placing you on his bed, the mattress dipped from the sudden weight. "Try to be quiet 'kay? My parents are home," He nipped at the shell of your ear before hastily undoing your belt and sliding your pants off. Did he care that his parents could come in at any moment? No, but it was much more exciting to see you try and keep quiet.
"Can we kiss?" Adrien's voice was almost whiny, his eyelashes batted at you innocently — even though he was far from innocent. Nonetheless, you didn't respond, you've set certain boundaries that prevented you and him from getting attached (even though you may or may not have broken it a couple of times). "No," it was a simple, sharp answer that Adrien grumbled at. He understood where you were coming from, he was a bad influence and you were this goody-two-shoes. But he couldn't deny the part of him that wanted something more than just meaningless flings. He huffed, murmuring a small, "How can I study the muscles of a tongue then?"
Scooping you up back into his arms, Adrien ignored your small protests and shifted your position so that your stomach would lay flat against his bed. His hands met the back of yours, pinning you down as he slotted each of his fingers in the spaces between yours. "What happened to studying, Adrien?" Your scolds were muffled by Adrien's pillow and seemed to fall short of his ears. As he held you down, he grinded his hips against your ass, groaning softly from the pure excitement he felt. It had been a few months since he was about to get his hands on you, your pictures just wasn't as good as the real thing.
"Calvin klein hm?" Adrien chuckled softly, trailing his hands from the back of your palm, to your shoulders, down your spine, and to the waistband of your boxers, "Next time don't wear anything." His fingers hooked the elastic before pulling it down and off your legs. You couldn't see what he was doing from your position, and every touch made your skin jump, he was so unpredictable. His fingers traced the curve of your ass before spreading them apart to see your hole. "This is the anus right?" He asked, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
"—Yes," you hesitated to answer him, he was obviously playing games with you, but there was no harm in humoring him. You heard the faint rustling of clothes before you felt something prod at your entrance. You sucked in through your teeth, was he seriously going to do this with no lube? "Sorry, don't got any on me right now." It was like he read your mind and instead dipped his head down to lick a stripe over your hole. It tickled, and your body naturally jerked away from it before he grabbed your hips and held them down one more. Weirdo.
He shuffled behind you, placing two knees on either side of your legs and his fingers angled your hips a little bit up. The slight burn of Adrien pushing into you made your fingers curl around his pillow, gripping it like your life depended on it. He slowly pushed in, filling you up until his hips met your ass. Even if your skin was flushed against his, Adrien pushed impossibly deeper inside of you until he could feel his tip press against your prostate. His hands tightened around your waist, stopping you from squirming and forcing you to take it.
"Is this your prostate?" He asked, his voice slightly trembled from the pleasure that coursed his veins, he was trying so hard to control himself. This time you ignore him, you know well that he knew. From the lack of a response, Adrien let out a breathy laugh before he finally decided to move, pulling out almost all the way before slamming into you. Your eyes flew open and your knuckles grew pale from how hard you were holding onto his pillow, your whines were muffled quite well, thankfully.
Adrien groaned ruggedly as he pounded you into his bed, the headboard knocked on his wall with every thrust. "You're being so quiet," He chuckled, reaching a hand out to ruffle your hair affectionate before moving to grab your hand. You couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic enough with the way he kept slamming into you like it was a punishment. Everytime he pulled out, he cooed at the way your hole would suck him back in like it missed him. "Fuck, I just can't with you," He let out a shaky breath as he rolled his hips against you, pushing further and further, trying to reach places he couldn't before.
He was reaching so deep that tears began to blur your vision, everything felt so overwhelming but numb at the same time. He leaned down to press kisses on your knuckles as he held your hand tightly under his own. His hips were relentless, slapping against yours, you were sure he'd leave your bruised and sore tomorrow. It was like he completely forgot they weren't alone in his house. In fact, Adrien's fingers moved from your hand to your hair, threading them through each strand and grabbing a handful, tugging it gently so your head would lift from the pillow.
"Kiss?" He asked once more, his lips already ghosting over yours. At this point you didn't care, all you could feel was how Adrien was throbbing inside you and how your dick rubbed against his white sheets with every thrust. "Fine," you exhale and he took the opportunity almost immediately, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss as he pulled your hair back for more access. His tongue pushed past your lips, exploring your mouth while simultaneously keeping your moans contained.
The dim lighting, the way your eyes fluttered and threatened to roll back, his dick pulsing inside you, it was all too much for his perverted brain. "Gonna cum," he muttered against your lips, biting on your bottom lip. He his hands return to your hips and his head falls over your shoulder. You could feel your own orgasm building up as your body started to squirm, you cock growing sensitive from the constant rubbing against Adrien's sheets. Adrien paused his thrusting just to pull out completely and shove himself back in, causing a loud whine rip from your throat and you body jolting.
Your cum splattered across the bed as Adrien smiled against your shoulder, keeping you from squirming as he came inside you, filling you with his semen. With a few more wet thrusts, Adrien finally stilled, watching as his own cum bubbled around his dick as he nestled deep inside you. "We should do this again, hm? Next time we can study our chemistry," his arms snaked up your body to wrap them around your shoulders, capturing you in a bear hug as he looked up at you with a goofy smile.
"What's with you and being so corny?" You groan, pushing his face away from you.
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a/n: i luv adrien sosososo much ... wish he real ,, also not sure if he was a bit ooc here ,, a bit sillier than usual but I hope you guys like it ♡
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saetoru · 1 year
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。TANGLED — GETO SUGURU.
contents. just suguru needing his hair brushed for him bc he’s def so me and gets mad over the knots lol—alternative title: princess suguru and his frog <3
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suguru huffs in front of your mirror—and it’s quite the frustrated huff, too—before he slams the hair brush down.
you raise a brow, “you okay over there?”
“no. ‘s knotted,” he mutters, referring to his hair. there’s a quiet grumbling of something unintelligible under his breath before he glares at himself in the mirror.
suguru loves his hair—anyone would know that just by looking at him. most guys use two-in-one shampoo (like satoru) but suguru? he practically hogs your shower space with all of the products he owns. his hair is well maintained and perfectly neat every time you see him. but sometimes, like now, it’s also a pain to brush once it’s knotted. and, well, he doesn’t handle it very well.
“you’ve been brushing for—” you pretend to check your bare wrist for the time, “—like ten minutes,” you giggle.
“very funny,” he grunts bitterly. and then, more petulantly this time, “i’m cutting it off for real this time.”
“you said that last time,” you remind him, eyes glinting with amusement.
“this time i mean it.”
“no you don’t, sugu.”
“i do,” he insists, glaring at you through the mirror, “it’s getting too long, and i don’t have the time to brush all these damn knots every two hours. so, it’s getting cut.”
“okay,” you nod casually—anyone can tell you don’t believe him.
his expression sours. suguru gets in very bad moods when his hair doesn’t cooperate, it’s evident in the way he flares his nostrils and scowls.
“you still don’t believe me? i’m being serious.”
“okay, baby,” you snort, finally deciding to take matters into your own hands as you rise from your bed and walk over. you stand behind him, reaching around him for the hair brush before gently pulling him back to stand closer. “i’ll get it for you, don’t worry. wouldn’t want your princess hair gone.”
“stop calling it that,” he groans, but the tension leaves his shoulders as soon as you gently brush through his strands, starting at the bottom and working your way up. it’s quiet for a bit—nothing but the soft sound of your humming as you work through the tangles in his long (perfect) hair.
“you could’ve just asked if you wanted me to brush it,” you tease after a few moments, “no need to throw a tantrum.”
“glad to see you’re enjoying this,” he rolls his eyes. and then, when you’ve finished and set the brush down, he turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face finds the crook of your neck.
you hum, pecking the side of his head before threading your fingers into his dark locks, stroking through the soft strands and silently marveling at the length.
“you’re so pretty, suguru,” you murmur, “did’ya know that?”
“oh yeah?” he chuckles into your skin, lips curling into a loose smile. his arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer.
“yeah,” you nod, “like a princess. my prettiest princess.”
“i thought i told you to quit with that,” he says exasperatedly—you can feel the heat from his cheeks, and you grin to yourself knowing he’s blushing as he hides his face deeper into your shoulder.
“it’s true,” you insist, “i’m no liar. i’m a truther.”
“debatable,” he mumbles. you smack his shoulder playfully, and he squeezes your hips in response. “aren’t you going to tie it for me too?” he finally asks, and you’re sure there’s a pout curled on those lips of his. you ache to kiss them—and you will, just not right now.
right now, you’ll stay like this a bit longer.
“this is real princess treatment,” you sigh dramatically, “yes your highness. i’ll tie it too.”
“thank you,” he says, thoroughly satisfied. and then, quieter, like it’s a secret only you’re supposed to know, “i love you.”
“i love you too,” you happily murmur, “but that might change if you cut your hair.”
“are you only dating me for my hair?”
“yes,” you snicker playfully, “it’s the main appeal. the princess appeal.”
“you know what,” suguru says thoughtfully, “i’ll be your princess.”
“really?” you gasp in excitement, making him nod into your neck as he presses a delicate kiss to your skin.
“sure,” he grins slyly, “and you can be the frog.”
the moment is officially ruined—and for a second, you think you might just have to cut his hair off in his sleep after that one.
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come join me in the most self indulgent drabble once again. also the title being tangled even tho the reference is the princess and the frog is a tad bit funny to me jdjsjd i did giggle i can’t lie
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writeroutoftime · 2 months
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our family
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pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader (requested by: @piratejakesgf)
summary: it's the first morning tyler is going back to storm chasing after the birth of your daughter and he finds he needs some reassurances in the nursey.
warnings: none (though not proofread lol)
words: 0.7k
a/n: oh my goodness, thank you for this request!! it was so sweet and fun to write! imagining this man as a father truly made me swoon! please enjoy!! 💕
oOoOo
The sun slowly began peaking over the skyline - a gentle nudge to those still asleep that morning was soon arriving. Not included in that group was Tyler Owens. Instead, he stood in the baby pink nursey, staring down in the crib at his seven-month-old daughter. His finger stroked over her soft cheek, memorizing every breath she took.
Tyler thought the moment he met and fell for you that his life was changed forever. But it changed all over ago seven months ago when he held his daughter for the first time. It was then that he knew nothing in his life was more important than being there for his two girls.
He could feel the anxiety building in his body the longer he stood and simply watched. Tyler knew that eventually he was going to have to tear himself away from her, from you, and get back out to chasing. And dep down, he truly was excited. To be back with his team, doing what he loved. But it all felt so much more complicated now.
He went through a similar spiral once 'I love you's' were shared between each other. It was so easy to go out in the middle of a damn tornado when there was no one waiting for him. And now there were two people who would be waiting to for him to make it home safely.
So wrapped up in his thoughts, Tyler didn't hear you shuffle into the nursey. It was only when you wrapped your arms around his frame and pressed your cheek against his sturdy back that he found himself relaxing the tiniest bit.
"Morning, darling." he whispered, letting go of the crib railings in favor of grasping your hands with his.
Your response of incoherent mumbles brought a much-needed smile to his face. Carefully, he untangled your limbs and turned you until your sleepy face met his green eyes. He titled his head forward so his forehead could rest against yours, soaking in this quiet moment.
"How you feeling today, cowboy?" you whispered, not wanting to shatter the bubble that encompassed you both.
Tyler sighed and stepped back so he could pull you into his chest. "I, I don't know if I'm being honest." he confessed. "Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to be back out with the team again, but..."
"But?" you prompted, offering Tyler a space to just think and talk with zero judgments.
"But, I also don't want to leave the two of you. I mean what if something happens here while I'm gone? O-or what if something happens to me while I'm out there?"
You took a moment to carefully craft your response. "I can't say that I won't be worried while you're out there. But that's nothing new. I know you're going to do everything in your power to come home to me - to us." you said, your voice firm.
"Of course I will." Tyler vowed
"Well, we'll be waiting for you when you come home. And that'll just mean the reunion is that much sweeter." you told him with a sly smile.
Greedily, you pushed forward until your lips met Tyler's chapped ones. He responded immediately and held you impossibly tighter. The kiss was long and full of passion, both of you expressing everything that couldn't be said. Love, passion, and promises of more early morning kisses to come.
You eventually pull away and swayed slightly in the nursey as Tyler still held you tightly. Though he felt more relaxed, you could tell there was something he was holding back. As gently as you could, you grasped his chin in your fingers and forced him to look at you.
"And, when you come back home, if it still doesn't feel right - we'll figure it out. We're always here for you, whatever it is you're going to do."
Tyler nodded, teeth caught on his lips as he tried to hold back his tears. "What would I do without you both?" he asked with a small laugh. And when he got into his truck and turned back to see you and your daughter waving goodbye to him, he knew he'd make it back to you whatever mother nature threw his way.
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estrellami-1 · 3 months
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How Steve Harrington Gets a Family
The first time it happened, Steve didn’t remember. He had no idea why Hopper was acting so weird until Joyce took him aside, sighing softly.
“Oh, honey,” she murmurs. “You don’t remember, do you?”
He frowns at her. “Remember what?”
“You called him dad, Steve.”
“I-” he gapes. “What?”
It goes like this.
He’d been hospitalized, after the Russians; he doesn’t know all the details, won’t for years, but Hopper had escaped from the reactor, thrown his weight—and title—around until someone had put Steve in a room, in a bed, gotten an IV into him, run whatever tests doctors run.
He was delirious with the truth serum still in his system and the adrenaline wearing off, groaning in pain and mumbling nonsense.
Hopper had put a hand on his head, said, “I’ve got you, Steve. You’re safe. It’s okay.”
“Dad,” Steve had mumbled, shifting into Hopper’s hand, and promptly passed out.
“Oh,” Steve whispers after Joyce tells him. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, no shit he’s been acting weird, I mean why would he want me as a kid- shit, I need to apologize-” 
“Whoa,” Joyce says seriously, hands on his shoulders. “Slow down, Steve. You know Hopper loves you, right?”
Steve bites his lip on the snark that wants to come out, instead choosing to just blink at her.
“Christ,” Joyce laments, “I’m going back to school, everyone need so much damn therapy.” She takes a breath and looks Steve in the eye. “Hopper loves you, Steve. He’s considered you his kid for a long time now.”
Steve gapes at her. “No he hasn’t!”
Joyce raises a brow. “Uh-huh. And how many parties has he busted, exactly? And how many marks do you have on your record?”
Steve snaps his mouth shut. “Oh, shit,” he whispers, looking up at Joyce. “He- he does? Really?”
“Really,” Joyce confirms, pulling him into a hug.
“Oh,” he mumbles, before letting himself enjoy the hug.
Later, when he’s about to head home, he stops in front of Hopper, glancing nervously over to Joyce, who nods encouragingly. “Can I, uh. Talk to you? For a second?”
Hopper narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Steve’s eyes widen. “No, nothing! Just-” he sighs, runs a hand through his hair, gestures Hopper out the door and around the side of the house. “So, Joyce and I were talking, right? And I was wondering why you’d been acting weird around me, and I didn’t even remember what I said in the hospital, so Joyce told me, and- and I don’t expect anything from you! At all! And it- how I feel doesn’t have to change anything-”
“Christ,” Hopper says, but he’s smiling. “I think you’re worse at emotions than I am.”
“Well I’ve never had to tell anyone I think of them as more of a father figure than my own father before!” Steve blurts out, then freezes.
Hopper bursts out laughing. “Jesus, kid, do you think before you talk?”
Steve’s not hurt. Really. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking anywhere but at Hopper. “I’ll leave.”
A hand on his wrist stops him. “C’mere, kid,” Hopper says, pulling him into a hug.
Steve stiffens. “What?”
“Boy, you’ve been my kid since the third time I didn’t write you up for one of those damn parties,” he grouses.
Steve relaxes into the hug. “So. If I, uh. Were to, maybe, call you dad again…”
“Just see what I’ll do if you don’t,” Hopper says gruffly, and it’s really not that funny but Steve’s just so relieved that he cracks up anyways.
They pull apart after a minute, and Steve has a giddy grin on his face as he backs up. “Bye, Dad,” he says, before turning and running to his car. Hopper’s laughter follows him.
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He’s been close to Dustin for a while now, but still refuses to call his mom Claudia. The most he’ll do is Mrs. H, even though every time she sees him, she tries to get him to call her by her first name.
He can’t do it. He can’t make himself. Maybe it’s the manners instilled in him, maybe he’s just awkward as fuck, who knows. But he chickens out every time.
That’s why, when she answers the door, he smiles. “Hey, Mrs. H.”
“Steve,” she greets him warmly. “Come in, come in. Call me Claudia. Oh, what is this? I told you you don’t have to bring anything!”
“Just some cookies,” he promises her, putting them down where she directs and falling into the hug she gives him.
“Dear,” she asks him later, when they’re sitting at the table with Dustin, “call me Claudia, please?”
Steve can’t look at her; passes the butter Dustin’s silently asking for. “Sorry, Mrs. H.”
“Jesus,” Dustin groans, buttering his roll. “If you can’t even say her name then at least call her mom.”
Steve’s cheeks are on fire. “That’s not exactly up to me, Dust,” he grits out.
“Oh, dear,” Claudia sighs. “I would love for you to call me mom.”
“Then we’d be brothers,” Dustin adds, “which we basically are anyways.”
Steve snorts. “I don’t think that’s exactly how it works,” he tells Dustin, but takes a breath and smiles at Claudia. “Thanks, Mom,” he says quietly. Claudia beams back at him.
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“I don’t give a damn!” Claudia yells at the hospital receptionist, who really just looks exceedingly bored.
Steve knows the look of someone who’s grabbing their pepper spray. “Mom?” He calls, wet and wobbly, and Claudia spins around, running to his side.
“Oh, Stevie,” she murmurs, gently cupping his hands. “Oh, goodness, your face- have you gotten looked at? Has someone come to see you? Where’s Dustin?”
Steve opens his mouth to answer and promptly bursts into tears. “He’s f-fine,” he manages. “Ankle. Getting- getting helped. But- Mom-”
She hushes him, pulling him down into a seat next to her. “Let it out, Steve, there you go. Mom’s here, I’ve got you.”
He finally composes himself enough to pull back and look at her. “It’s not good, Mom,” he whispers. “I tried, I really did, and I know CPR but he was losing so much blood-”
“Steve,” she stops him, “I thought you said Dustin was fine?”
“He is, it’s just his ankle, but Eddie, Mom… he’s back there, they’re doing surgery, but he- I felt-” he grabs at his own chest, and somehow Claudia knows what he means. “Oh, dear,” she murmurs, pulling him into another hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers into his ear. “You did what you could, you kept him stable until the doctors could do their job, and now it’s their turn, okay? Let them take care of it. They’re gonna do everything they can.”
His eyes well up again. “He didn’t kill anyone, Mom.”
“Oh, I know that, sweetie. It’s okay. I never thought he did.”
“But they do!” He sniffs, wipes at his face. “And what- what if-”
She pulls his attention back to her with a hand on his face. “Did I tell you about the time a known serial killer came in?” She whispers. He shakes his head. “He’d been in an… altercation, with the police. Shots had been fired. We all knew who he was, but when he flatlined on the table, we got his heart beating again.” She grips his hand tightly. “Doctors take an oath, Steve. They’re going to do everything they can. Okay?”
“Okay,” he mumbles, letting her pull him into another hug.
“Y’wanna tell me about Eddie?”
“You know Eddie.”
“Mhm, from Dusty. I’ve never heard about him from your perspective before.”
“I didn’t really know him before today,” he admits. “I knew of him, in high school, a little bit, but then I graduated and he didn’t and then Dustin started raving about him and… I got jealous.”
“Oh, Steve.” She cards a hand through his hair. “You know Dustin will always love you. You’re brothers.”
Steve sighs. “I know, but… we’re also not. I love you more than I love the woman who birthed me, and I love Dust as much as I’d love any biological sibling I could ever have, but-”
“I know,” Claudia says. “It’s okay, dear. Keep going. Tell me about Eddie.”
“Right. So I got jealous, and then I really didn’t wanna meet him, ‘cause he actually sounded kinda cool and I’m just… me. And I know what you’re gonna say, but you’re biased as my mom.” Claudia just chuckles. “But then I met him, and… he’s really nice, Mom. He really loves the twerps. And he’s, like… kind? And I know nice and kind are synonyms but it’s different. Like he’s just… an inherently good person. That’s kind. Nice you can fake. But you can’t fake kind. Y’know?”
“I know what you mean,” she agrees.
“Okay, good. Well he’s kind. He-” Steve sniffs. “He called me a good dude.”
“Well,” Claudia says, smiling, “you are.”
Steve chuckles wetly. “I am now, maybe, but I wasn’t when we knew each other in high school, and I didn’t really expect him to say anything. And he’s so passionate, Mom, and he’s talented, and he’s selfless, but that backfired because it landed him here-”
Claudia hums, strokes a hand through his hair. “How long have you liked him?” He stiffens. “Oh, please, like I haven’t known this entire time. Honestly, Steve, I’m not an idiot. And I’m not some backwards idiot especially who thinks two boys who love each other are the greatest sin.”
“No, it- Mom, you love Robin, of course you’re fine with it, I just- I didn’t… I didn’t realize.”
“Oh, Stevie,” she sighs, running her hand through his hair again. “When he gets out, are you gonna do something about it?”
“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Maybe. If- if he even wants to be friends-”
“Okay, now I know you’re talking crazy,” she teases him, grinning.
Just then Hopper walks in, looking around with wide eyes, stopping when he sees Steve. “Dad!” Steve yelps, standing and walking quickly towards him, stopping about three steps in. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters, because he knows the way the room is spinning and his vision is going out.
He’s out before he hits the ground.
He wakes up later to find he didn’t hit the ground, actually; Hopper had leapt forward and caught him the second he’d stopped walking and started swaying.
He blinks bleary eyes open and finds himself looking at a ceiling tile. “What-”
“Don’t move,” comes Hopper’s voice from beside him.
He turns his head to frown at him. “Dad? What happened?”
“You passed out. Jumped outta Claudia’s arms like she’d burned you when you saw me. Much as I love you, kid, the parent’s gotta go first this time, ‘kay? No more self-sacrificing bullshit and not getting medical attention when you need it.”
“M’kay,” Steve says. “Sorry, Dad.”
Hopper puts a hand on his head. It’s comforting. “Go to sleep, kid.”
When he wakes up again, he’s more lucid. He looks around, sees Claudia asleep in the chair next to him. Looks on his other side, and his breath catches when he sees Eddie. His eyes are closed, he’s still asleep, but he’s alive.
“Mom,” he whispers, tearing his eyes away from Eddie to look at her. He feels bad, a little, waking her, but only a little because he knows she’d tear him a new one if he didn’t. “Mom.”
She starts awake and tears up when she sees him. “Stevie,” she murmurs, cradling his face with her hand.
“Mom,” he says again. “He’s here.”
Claudia chuckles. “You can thank your father and I for that one. We raised hell.”
“I bet you did,” he says appreciatively.
“And you, young man,” she says, too full of love to really be mean, “next time you tell me when you’ve been half eaten, okay? Or have you forgotten I’m a nurse?”
“Didn’t forget,” he murmurs, nudging her hand with his face. “Just wanted to stay with you.”
“Oh, Steve,” she murmurs. “You beautiful boy.”
He falls asleep again.
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He wakes up again later and looks over to see Eddie also awake, and also looking at him. “Eddie,” he breathes.
It’s hard to tell from where he is, but it looks like Eddie’s blushing. “Looks like I’ve got you to thank for saving my life.”
Now Steve’s blushing. “Ah,” he eloquently says. “No, I mean, just- what anyone else would do?”
“Are you asking me?”
Oh, god, is he teasing? Steve barely survived the flirting before, but now there’s nothing else to keep his attention off Eddie, nothing else he can blame the blush on. “…I just didn’t do much,” he belatedly says.
“Bullshit.” He shifts and hisses in pain. “Fuck, those bastards got me good. But that- that’s proof, y’know?”
Steve blinks. He doesn’t know. “What?”
Eddie grins at him. The stitches in his cheek pull, but don’t tear. “That you saved me.”
Abruptly, Steve tears up. He looks away, up at the ceiling, wills the tears to stay inside. “Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you-”
“No,” he answers quickly. Too quickly. There’s an awkward silence now. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I- I felt your heart stop, okay?” He looks over again, knows the tears are there, knowing they’re leaking into his hairline and across the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t sure the doctors were even gonna try that hard to save you. And now you’re joking with me, and-” he takes a quick breath, holds it. Releases it slowly. “‘M just glad you’re okay,” he finally says.
“Oh,” Eddie says quietly. “I, uh. Didn’t think you really… cared. About me.”
“I think I care more than I should.”
Eddie takes a breath. “I’m about to say something way too brave, and I’m only saying it ‘cause we’re both in hospital beds and I’m assuming you can’t just, like, walk over and punch me.”
“Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. But, uh. Anyways. I don’t… people don’t care about me. My uncle Wayne does, sure, and the kids, but that’s different, and- well. I’ll take whatever care you wanna give me. It won’t be too much.”
“Okay,” Steve says, “well I definitely don’t want to punch you for that, what the hell, but I hope you know you’re gonna get hugged for that as soon as I figure out how to undo all this shit.” He gestures to the tubes in his arms, and Eddie starts to laugh, then stops just as quickly with a hiss.
“Okay, abs got eaten, no laughing,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Shit, dude, stay in bed, you had like five people in here earlier who all told me specifically to not let you out of bed, though how I’m supposed to do that I dunno.”
Steve blinks over at him. “Five?”
“Well- four, now that I count. Dustin was here with his mom, he’s getting released later but was allowed out of bed for a minute and came to see us. Robin, and she looked angry, are you two, like, okay?”
Steve snorts. “Yeah, she’s just worried.”
“And then Chief Hopper, which- do you wanna explain why the actual Chief of Police was in here?”
“Ah,” Steve says, and blushes again. “He kinda, like… adopted me? Not officially, obviously, but he’s… well, I call him dad, so-”
“And Claudia?”
Steve hums. “‘S my mom. Dust’s my brother.”
Eddie snorts. “Jesus, Harrington, d’you just go around collecting people to call your parents? How many d’you have now, four?”
“Nah, just two. My parents fucked off pretty permanently by the time I was nine. And before that I had nannies when they were gone.”
Eddie blinks at him. “You- wait. Back up. You’ve been alone for the entirety of high school?”
Steve thinks. “I mean, I had Hopper, kinda, but that was before he became Dad, so… I guess?”
“Goddamn,” Eddie whispers wonderingly. “And you’re still sane?”
Steve snorts. “Jury’s out on that one, I mean I do willingly hang out with the twerps, so-”
“Fuck, don’t make me laugh, man.” He sighs. “I get it, though,” he says quietly. “Mom was an angel, but… Dad got to her, y’know? Tore her wings off, rubbed her halo in the dirt. Poured alcohol down her throat until she was dependent on it. And him. And when she-” he shakes his head. “Then it was just Dad, and he got sent away ‘cause apparently his new car wasn’t his, y’know? And I went to live with Wayne at twelve.”
“But now you’ve got Wayne.”
“Mhm.” He smiles a little. “Call ’im pops sometimes, ‘cause he’s my real dad now. Sometimes Wayne, sometimes Uncle Wayne. He doe’n’t care much.”
“What’s it like? Living with him?”
“It’s been a dream, honestly. He’s the nicest person I’ve ever met, and he’s got patience to rival a saint. Doesn’t care when I play my music loud, or forget to eat, or bring boy—uh, girls—over.”
Steve hums. “There’s still the house in Loch Nora, but I stay with the Hendersons most days. I tend to bring people I meet to Loch Nora, just ‘cause it’s empty, y’know? I mean, Dust’s a little shit, and he’d tease me regardless of who I brought home. Mom wouldn’t care. Hell, she’d probably give me a condom and lube,” he laughs. “And she’s teaching Dustin to be the same way. He’ll get there one day.”
“He’s a twerp,” Eddie agrees. “I didn’t know you, uh-”
“Mhm,” Steve answers. “Robin says I’m like Bowie.”
“Like Bowie- you’re bisexual?”
“That’s the one!” Steve says happily. “I can never remember the name.”
Eddie looks at him wonderingly. “Who are you, Steve Harrington?”
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Eventually they get out of the hospital, and eventually they stop circling around each other. Eventually they kiss, and fall asleep on the couch, and make each other breakfast, and do certain things behind closed doors that Steve still can’t think about without blushing.
Eventually they’re outside the Munson’s trailer, working in the garden that Eddie, surprisingly, loved.
“Imma go in,” Steve says eventually. “Get a drink.”
“Alright,” Eddie says, not looking up from where he’s pulling weeds near his tomatoes. “I’ll be here.”
Steve has a bit of a headache already, and he knows drastic temperature changes don’t help. He didn’t think the trailer was that big of a difference, but it’s cool enough he’s got goosebumps breaking out along his arms almost immediately. Then he’s hit with a blast of freezing air when he opens the fridge, and his head begins to throb. “Fuck,” he mutters, shutting the door and grabbing for a glass, hoping the sink water isn’t too cold.
It’s cooler than he’d like, but it’s all he’s got right now, and he knows if he doesn’t hydrate it’s going to end up worse. He chugs two glasses, sets the cup down, and goes to sit at the table, rubbing his eyes.
It gets worse almost without him realizing: one second his relatively fine, the next he’s groaning in pain, trying to block out all the light by laying his head on his forearm.
A hand on his back startles him. “Dee?”
“Wayne,” comes the gruff voice. “Not Eddie. Y’got a migraine?”
“Mhm.”
“Y’take anything for it?”
Steve waves a hand. “Had water.”
Wayne leaves for a minute, comes back and presses two pills into Steve’s hand. A glass of water is placed in front of him.
He takes the pills, squinting, and lays his head back down.
“Nuh-uh,” Wayne says, “up you get, c’mon, you’re sleepin’ this off.” Hands at his shoulders guide him out of his seat, shuffle him slowly down the hall to Eddie’s cool, dark room. Lay him down and pull the blankets over him.
Steve sighs and relaxes into the bed, cracking an eye open to look at Wayne. “Thanks, Pops,” he murmurs, then winces when Wayne freezes. “S’rry. Wayne.”
Wayne pets a hand through Steve’s hair. “Pops works just fine,” he says. “I’ll tell Ed you’re in here.”
“M’kay,” Steve breathes, and lets himself fall asleep.
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They’re at Hopper’s cabin, an annual We Saved the World semi-party that usually ends in at least one disagreement.
Eddie’s got most of the kids corralled away in the living room, with promises of an epic one-shot. The adults, Steve, Max, and El are in the kitchen.
He doesn’t know who started it, but someone teases him, and Hopper ruffles his hair with another jab. “Dad,” he complains good-naturedly, laughing.
“Steve?” El asks.
“Yeah?” He looks at her.
“Hopper is your dad.”
Steve glances at Hopper, who’s listening, but making no move to answer. “I mean… not, like, biologically, but yeah.”
“Me too,” El says. “Are you my brother, then?”
Steve flounders. “I- I guess if you want me to be?”
“You’re a good brother to Dustin,” she answers. “I haven’t had any good brothers besides Will, and we are the same age. I would like a good older brother.”
He smiles, tugs her into a hug. “I guess I’m your brother, then.”
She goes willingly. “Does that mean Joyce is your mom too?” She looks up at him, big eyes serious. “She is a good mom.”
“Uh,” Steve says, “that’s kinda up to Joyce.”
“Oh, honey,” Joyce says, because of course everyone had stopped talking the moment El had started. “Why don’t you call me Mama J?”
Steve smiles bashfully, accepting her hug. “Sounds good to me.”
When he tells Eddie later, his boyfriend laughs. “You really do collect parents!”
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plutoswritingplanet · 5 months
Text
Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)
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a/n: as promised, here's the full chapter. as a person who's only played skyrim and oblivion, writing for fallout is like throwing a hot dog into an empty corridor (i will not elaborate)
Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Attempted Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Cooper is a mean old man with a boner. Takes place before the events of the TV series.
Summary: The Ghoul takes up a bounty that has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored out of your mind, decide getting kidnapped might be the perfect way to entertain yourself. Both of you bite off more than you can chew. Cross-Posted on AO3
PT. 2
Copper knows this job will be different, before he even decides to take it up. 
Scribbled with flaky charcoal, your face looks at him from the notice board every time he delivers a bounty. For months now, a humble title of "The Healer" hangs without change, between criminals, raiders, and people who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 
Cooper hasn't considered going for you, it was never his first choice. The bounty on your head was moderately low, in comparison to your notice board neighbors.  He had other priorities, bigger than a smeared over pretty face, for half his usual reward.
Until one day, as he stomped his way through the dusty floor, his eyes caught onto your wanted poster yet again. 
Well, to be frank, his eyes strayed towards your portrait almost every time he crossed the threshold, but he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself. Like a constant companion, overlooking all his accomplishments since he decided to stick around the place, your empty gaze followed every transaction, every head delivered onto the table. Some semblance of a routine, he supposed, looking over the board. 
 There, under the regular information, freshly painted numbers stared back at him. A new bounty, significantly bigger than any reward on the board. The red paint was still dripping down the yellowed paper, the addition must've been made quite recently. 
A hefty price. One, that would supply him with enough chems to last for half a year at least. Tempting. Especially now, that he's down to only a couple of vials, his coughing fits becoming longer and closer between. So tempting, in fact, that he tears your wanted poster from the board, finally getting a closer look, a deliberate one. 
Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail. 
You have to be alive and in good condition. 
Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive is easy. Good condition, however, opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden raise in bounty?
- Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected. 
***
The bar is filled with patrons, all tripping over themselves to loose as many caps on cheap alcohol and chems from under the table. It's not as rowdy, as one would expect. This settlement must be one of the few more civilized ones, for the Wasteland's standards at least. Farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, they all clam together, smelling of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. 
You're here too, hunched over your drink with a sour expression. Your shoulders are slumped, covered by a piece of cloth, that used to be a shawl, but currently looks more like a rag used to wipe down countertops. Despite that, Cooper sees in the way your body is poised, taunt and graceful, that you're neither a naive Vault Dweller, nor a scruffy raider. A skinny scarf is tied around your neck in a fashion, that reminds Cooper of the old westerns he used to star in. 
The sudden influx of memories is neither wanted, nor useful, and he clicks his teeth in annoyance at his own betraying mind.
The Healer, he thinks to himself, making his way through the crowds, until he reaches the side of the bar, one seat from you. Not a glance is spared in his direction. The townsfolk must be used to seeing Ghouls run around the place. Still, when he orders a glass of moonshine, out of the corner of his eye, he can see you peaking at him with curiosity. There's a intelligent glint in your eye, and Cooper feels a shiver of curiosity climbing up his back. He scolds himself for being too old imediately after. 
By all that's holy, you look tired. And not the kind of tired, that sticks to a person living in the Wastelands, no. It's the exhaustion of a shitty day, dragging your eyelids down to flutter against creeping up sleep. The alcohol can't be helping your state, however, it will most definitely help Cooper. He almost feels sorry for you, but if your dumb enough to leave yourself in the open like that, while being hunted, there's nothing more he can do but take advantage. 
Cooper turns his face ever so slightly towards you, looking over your expression for any signs of recognition. He sees none, more than that, there is no emotion at all, not even a blink at his fucked up face. Raising his hand, he touches the rim of his hat in a wordless greeting. 
That finally wrenches some resemblance of a reaction out of you, and with a blink, you tip your glass towards him, before downing its contents. Your cheeks are flushed, lips wet with remnants of moonshine and there's a lock of hair falling out of place, and damn it, Cooper suddenly feels so old.
Ordering drinks while in your current state wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done. The harsh taste of alcohol burned your throat in a way that was less than pleasant, and for a moment you consider turning to some good old chems for help with... Well everything really. 
It started with Old Lady Sal. 
You've replaced her hip a while back with some scrap metal and a fuckload of reused body parts. Now, every other day she demands you check it out, make sure it's in working order. Which it always is. This isn't your first replaced hip, you know what you're doing.
Then, you had to sit through the insanely uncomfortable marriage offer from Old Lady Sal's grandson, who is not only dumb as a bag of rocks, but also fourteen. 
And to top it all off, suddenly everyone needs you to solve their particular pains of the day. There must be an epidemic of aching heads sweeping through the town, because as soon, as you flee from Old Lady Sal's home, you're being hounded by everyone and their mother, looking to you for help. You were in town for two hours, and your herbs reserve went down to one fucking leaf. 
The Ghoul keeps looking at you from under his hat, and at this point it's gotten from uncomfortable, to straight up creepy. You were not about to pretend this stranger's interest in your particular person didn't unnerve you. Although, thanks to your mother's efforts, and later your own, the town practically worshipped the ground you walked on, the same could not be said about the rest of the Wasteland. 
You had enemies. You had people, who would love to get their hands on you. You were also deeply aware of the bounty placed on your person. Last you checked, it was quite small, but Ghouls don't have it easy out there, and if there's anyone looking like a bounty hunter in this fine establishment, it's the shady guy giving you a shameless once-over. 
So, you place a couple of caps on the counter, and gather yourself best you can. 
Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach was not the best idea, because as soon as you slide off the barstool, your head does a flip. Your balance completely off, you trip over your own feet, already accepting the floor, as your soon-to-be companion. 
That's when something strangely warm wraps itself around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter. The Ghoul smells just about as pleasant as one would expect, but moonshine is a powerful sedative, and instinctually, you lean into the warm embrace. Eyelids flutter, as you look up into the sunken eyes of your savior, and you can see his throat move, as he swallows thickly. 
- Careful now, sweetheart - the voice is low and reminds you of wind whistling through leaves - Gotta keep you in good condition.
Now, if you were completely sober, or at least less drunk, those words would fire an orchestra of alarm bells in your head. Instead, you smile, teeth on full display, as you reach up, to undo a tattered scarf from around your neck. 
- Mmm - you sigh, throwing the piece of cloth across the Ghoul's shoulders - My hero. 
Then, you grab onto his arm, still holding a tight grip around your waist, and lift it up by the sleeve of his coat. Despite your drunken disposition, you duck under the limb gracefully, and shoot the Ghoul a nasty, fully aware smirk. Realization flickers across his face, but before he can move to catch you, a series of body-wrecking coughs shakes his entire frame. 
You hesitate just for a second. The instinct to help is ingrained into your very being, passed down like a mantle from your angel of a mother. But then, self-preservation kicks in, and as the strager reaches into the pocket of his coat, to find his inhaler, you're already out the door, throwing yourself into a mad dash towards your cabin.
You were drunk, not stupid. 
***
The sun has barely had time to rise, when you're rudely awoken by the sound of a fist, pounding desperately on your front door. Hard enough to make the hinges squeak and shake. 
It tears you from your already light sleep, and you scramble to your feet, hastily pulling a shirt over your head, as you make your way towards the entrance. Hand on your pistol, you look out through the small space between two planks, which make up your door. 
It's not hard to understand what is happening. You remember one of the men standing outside your door from the nearby town. Benny or something like that, you were never good at remembering names. Hanging on his arm was another, barely breathing man, who was currently bleeding out right onto your porch. Pete. This one you recognize as a farmer and a hunter. You've treated multiple bites and scratches on him. So did your mother. 
Cursing under your breath, you undid all the makeshift locks with record speed, throwing the door open.
- I'm sorry to bother your so early in the morning Healer - you wince at the title, already making a beeline for the table in your kitchen - Pete and I were just...
Both men follow you closely behind, Pete's boots making a disgusting, sloshing noise. 
- Put him here, face up - you command, throwing a couple of papers to the floor.
- ...Coming back from a night hunt, and this fucking Ghoul was asking around town about you...
- Cut his shirt - another command, thrown over your shoulder, as you begin to rummage through a cabinet filled with chemicals and various herbs, barely registering the words. 
- ...And when we started asking questions back at him, he just shot Peter, right then and there...
You pluck a couple of twisted, dried herbs into your trusty, stone mortar, spitting into it, to gather some moisture. Throwing a semi-clean rag at the man, your voice cuts through his rambling.
- Put pressure on it.
There is no exit wound, and you almost sigh with annoyance at the prospect of fishing out a bullet. It had to be done, however, putting your sleep depriation and a building headache aside, you scoop out some of the herbal paste with your fingers, before pushing past the man.
- Hold his legs down - you mutter, taking a blink-and-you-miss-it moment to check Pete's temperature.
- ...Thankfully, he didn't kill Pete on the spot, so I brought him here straight away.
Pete flinches on the table, as you apply the paste to the wound. That's about as big of a reaction he's capable of, given the amount of blood he just spilled onto your porch. Another thing to clean up, after you take care of the table. What a way to start a fucking day. You can see his eyes follow your movements, barely conscious, but still alive. Sweat beads and gathers at his brow, and you reach out with a clean rag, to dab it off his skin.
Then, as if coming out of a stupor, your eyebrows scrunch together. The story of this faithful encounter finally registering in your brain. 
- A man was asking about me? - you ask, despite already knowing the answer. 
- Well, kinda. A Ghoul. 
You knew which Ghoul, it was not difficult to piece together. 
- And he didn't kill Pete, just injured him - you can feel another headache brewing just behind your eyes, as the sheer stupidity of the man in front of you finally comes to the surface.
They led him to you. 
Three, steady knocks to your door, smug and confident, interrupt the conversation, and deep down you can see the future of every person present in this cabin. As if you've developed some magical powers. 
Stilling your suddenly trembing hands, you settle the mortar back on the table. Thenyou instruct the man to keep pressure once more. Covering yourself with a robe you got as payment for stitching up a sliced finger, you make your way to the door. Fabric flows around your feet, shuffling like the wings of a moth. 
Your eyes flicker to the side, where, placed against a wall, stands a small end table. Under it, you've hidden a rather large kitchen knife, and for a second you debate, whether going for it now would be the best course of action. Call it dumb optimism, but deep down, you pray this is some big misunderstanding, and you'll be allowed to go back to your patient, preferably sooner than later. 
There's no need to bother with a gun, no time too. Pete is bleeding out faster than a stuck pig, and you were not one to leave your customers unsatisfied. Or, in this particular line of work, dead. 
The door opens with a slam. There's a small indent in the wooden wall, where the door handle has hit the surface.  The cabin is slowly entering the state of ruin, although, some places are more taken care of than others. Still, it has a roof, a semi intact entrance and even a window with actual glass in it. Quite the luxury in the Wastelands. 
Cooper didn't know what to expect, not really. Seeing you for the first time gave him a mixture of varying feelings, as well as a rather uncomfortable throbbing in the nether regions. Who could blame him, really? Your wanted poster gave you no favors, and although he was able to recognize you almost immediately, he still felt slightly short of breath.
He scolds himself for getting distracted by his thoughts, and as your eyes lock down on him, he lifts the barrel of his gun, touching the rim of his hat. Your eyes shift like little sparkling gems onto the weapon, before your jaw locks.
- Salutations Ma'am - his voice is rough from lack of use, the southern twang even more prominent, than usual. - I believe our introduction was cut short.
Yellowed teeth flash in a mirthless smirk, and then his expression tightens.
Cooper is used to people reacting, let's say, negatively towards him. Fear is the most common, and he can't blame the masses, he really can't. Disgust, as well, happens quite often. But as he looks over your feverish gaze, he can't really see either one of the emotions. 
No, what you give him is an annoyed roll of your eyes, and he's surprised to say, it bothers him more than he'd be comfortable admitting. He's a goddamned bounty hunter, a ruthless one at that, and a fucking Ghoul. Fuck you mean, you're annoyed by his presence?
- Look - you're already turning away from him, shooting a look towards your kitchen, where he can see a leg twitch in a spasm on top of your table - I ain't got time for whatever this is - your hands wave around in Cooper's general direction. - You'll have to wait your turn.
- Ah, well, I'm not the patient kind.
A squeak of surprise leaves you, as the Ghoul pushes past your body, entering your house gun first, murder clear in his deep set eyes. His steps take him through your living room, dangerously close to your kitchen. You know exactly, what's going to happen, and your arms shoot out on instinct. His body is unnaturally warm, even through layers of clothing, as you wrap yourself around his waist, tugging him back with all your might.
 He looks down on you, more bothered by the sudden contact, than the fact you're trying to stop him. It gives you a small leverage, and you push him back a couple of steps, settling yourself between the entrance to the kitchen, and the bounty hunter, raising your hands and getting ready to fight. 
- I don't have time for this kinda bullshit. Git. - Cooper snarls at you, his gun-free hand coming up to grab at your hair.
Before you have time to react, five fingers twist hard into your roots, and you stifle a scream, as the Ghoul pushes you off of him. On instinct, your hands come up to tug against his wrist, nails digging into the leathery skin. He lets you go with a hiss, and you use that second, to throw yourself towards the end-table. 
Your fingers find the handle with a practiced ease. Then, your body twists like a radioactive viper, and all Cooper sees is a flash of metal. The blade is rusty and chipped, but it could still do some damage. Especially now, that it's pressed against Cooper's jugular, the dull, cold presence halting all his movements. Your eyebrows raise in small recognition at the thin fabric tied around his neck. The scarf. Your mouth goes dry.
- Everything okay back there? - Benny asks from the kitchen, you can hear his approaching footsteps.
- All's well, kee pressure on the wound - your voice is tight with nerves, but the man obeys. 
Cooper watches your face carefully, his gun tucked neatly into the meat of your stomach, ready to fire, should the situation escalate. You can feel it, pressed right into the hollow space under your spleen, a good place to be shot, if you could even say that. You're dealing with a professional, apparently. 
- We seem to have a bit of a conundrum on our hands, little lady - Cooper drawls, voice bordering on a whisper, his eyes follow the way your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips. 
- I have a patient, he needs help - you explain in an even tone, breathing shallow - After that, I'll deal with you.
Despite being at a loosing position, you refuse to back down, your eyes glued to the Ghoul in front of you. You're bracing yourself for the imminent pain, should he decide shooting you would be easier, but it never comes. Instead, the barrel of the gun presses further into your flesh, before lightly retracting. The cold metal is dragged up, across the expanse of your stomach. You bite the inside of your cheek, and surpress a shiver, when it travels between the swell of your breast, and settles into the dip of your collarbones. 
You swallow thickly, Cooper's eyes catching the movements of your trachea like a hungry vulture. The tip of the gun touches the underside of your chin, pushing your head to one side, then the other, as if the bounty hunter is taking inventory in a butcher's shop. Once he's had his fill, he lifts the gun completely, raising his hands as a peace offering.
- Git - you whisper back at him, and a flash of something rushes through his mangled expression. 
You take a step back, chest rising in falling rapidly, blade still in front of you, just in case. Then another step, and the bounty hunter dusts off his coat, before sitting down on a stool in your cluttered living room. You don't like the way he looks at you, eyes shining from under his hat, as he occupies your space like it belongs to him. Long legs apread in front of him, and you try very hard not to sneak a peak between them. Finally, you cross the entrance to the kitchen, and the knife is tucked under the leather belt of your pants. 
A sigh, a roll of shoulders, and you're off.
Cooper watches with curiosity, as you immediately start to work on the poor bastard stuck on your table. Your back is taunt, hands bloodied but steady, as you lean down to take the metal bullet out of the wound. The herbal paste you've provided earlier has dried up, and is currently working wonders for the bleeding, while you reach inside with not-so-sterile pliers. 
- Hold him down - he hears you say, as the legs on the table start to twitch again. 
Finally, a metallic sound of the bullet hitting a dish is heard, and you stand up, making your way towards the cabinet filled with chems. There is a grace to your movements Cooper wasn't expecting. Reminds him of dancers, ballet ones. 
Back in the day, his ex-wife would drag him to all those ballet shows, ones that made him feel stupid and uncultured. He swallows around the memory, willing it to die down, as you shoot him a cautious look over your shoulders. 
He wiggles his gun at you lightly, a reminder, that all this is happening because of his good humor. You scoff. 
Pete starts screaming as soon, as you begin to dress the wound properly. Chemical smell fills the air, and although Cooper lacks the nose to feel it, his eyes water all the same. You seem to be unbothered, years of doing this exact job must've hardened your senses. Finally, it's done. There's nothing more you can do for the man, and you wipe your hand on your forehead, leaving a large smear of red.
- He'll be fine - you mutter towards the other man in the kitchen - He needs rest, and a loads of it too. 
A couple of small bottles and dried herbs land onto a checkered cloth, and you tie it closed, like a small care package. 
- Dress his wounds twice a day - you press the package into the other man's hands while he helps his partner off the table - Good luck. 
Cooper glares at the men, as they stagger out the front door. They don't seem to pay him any mind. Well, the shot one definitely doesn't, he can barely walk on his own. His friend is too preoccupied with keeping him on his arm, to even acknowledge that this whole situation was orchestrated by Cooper himself. Or perhaps, he's to stupid to connect the dots. It's hard to tell these days. 
The door closes with a click, and Cooper stands up from his stool, sauntering over to the kitchen. 
You're currently trying to wash blood off of your hands, which are stained crimson almost up to your elbows. It goes about as well as expected, and as you dry your arms with a rag, there's still a pinkish stain to your skin. 
The table is a mess, blood and herbs seeping into the wooden planks which make up the surface. Cooper leans against the doorframe, as he watches you splash some chemicals onto the wood. It bubbles up in a disgusting mixture of red, green and yellow. You let it sizzle for a moment, before taking that same bowl of water you've been using to clean up, and dumping it all onto the table. The mixture flows down to the floor, the residing surface looking much cleaner. 
- Now, as much as I'd love to sit around and play house with you, honey - Cooper starts, and has to clear his throat, when you look up at him wordlessly, blood on your face and fire in your eyes - I have a bounty to collect.
Sighing, you push your hair back from your forehead, exhaustion, which is synonymous with living in the Wastelands seeping off of you like a tidal wave. 
- Do you have a name? - you ask, reaching for a leather bag sitting on one of the chairs. 
- I do - he says, and you roll your eyes at the deliberate lack of information his answer has given you. 
You mutter something that sounds scarily close to "asshole", and begin to chuck a couple of vials into the bag, then some herbs, then a water canteen. It's like you're ready to move out at any time, and a sneaking suspicion arises in Cooper's mind. This isn't the first time you're in this situation, if your calm demeanor is anything to go by. Suspicious, highly so, and as you turn around to face him, Cooper raises his hand ever so slightly. 
Your eyes fall onto the bundle of rope in his grip, eyebrow raising in annoyance. 
- You serious? 
- As a funeral, sweetheart - he sways the bundle lighty, his other hand pointing the gun at your abdoment - Now, are you going to be good, and come over here? Or should I come over there and make it unpleasant for us both?
- You're already making it unpleasant - you mutter, but cross the kitchen towards him, raising your hands, palms up. 
- Wait. 
Confusion hits you, when the Ghoul reaches into his pocket, producing a small piece of torn cloth. Your entire body goes still, as he grabs onto your chin, cold metal of his gun digging into your cheek, the barrel settling into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Then, despite your best efforts at freeing yourself from his grip, he brings the cloth to his lips, wetting the fabric with his tongue. 
The bloody smear on your forehead is wiped down rather roughly, and you twist in place like an impatient toddler, when Cooper leans his head back, to look at his handywork. You shiver with disgust, at the feeling of his drying saliva on your skin, and as soon, as he lets you go, you begin to rub at your forehead with the sleeve of your robe. 
- Good condition - he rasps, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.
He gives you a nasty smirk, settling his gun down for just a moment, and grabbing your wrists together, so he can tie them up. Which is all the time you need to make a decision, and kick out your knee, nailing him right in the crotch. He doubles over, cursing loudly, hands shooting out to grab you, but all he catches is your tattered robe, which you slide out of easily. 
Fater than he would've anticipated, you grab at your bag, and bolt to the back of the kitchen, where he watches you jump over the table and all but slide out of the house through an open window. It's like a choreographed dance, the way you move out of his grasp. When he reaches the window himself, there's no sight of you, other than the rustling of tree branches somewhere in the woods behind your cabin. 
- Fucking women. - Cooper whistles.
He can't deny the shiver of excitement running down his back, as he secures the hat over his eyes.  If that's how you want to play, he would oblidge. It's been far too long since he could actually enjoy a more challenging bounty. Cooper slowly walks out of your cabin, looking over all the little trinkets you've gathered inside. Then, almost lazily, he lifts the robe you've left him to his nose. He feels nothing, of course, but he has quite a vivid imagination. Vivid enough to supply him with a memory of a scent from his past life. Lavender, he'd bet you smell like lavender. 
Your tracks are deep and visible across the ground, and so, the hunt begins. 
1K notes · View notes
whirlybirbs · 25 days
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i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace
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— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟
summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.
You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning. 
In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.
"C'mon! We're gonna be late!" 
This really wasn't your scene.
Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea. 
If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.
Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"
It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase. 
Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.
But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.
After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!
That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked. 
He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.
And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you. 
The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them. 
"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"
He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck. 
You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.
"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"
The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived. 
Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here. 
"Ti! It's him!"
The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table. 
You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute. 
Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even. 
Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close. 
That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers. 
It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this. 
I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time. 
But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.
Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.
"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.
You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"
"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"
Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next. 
On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life. 
And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.
The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.
"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"
Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks. 
"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."
Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—
You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name. 
He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?
"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches. 
This is too fuckin' cute.
"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"
"H-Hayami."
"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"
Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up. 
"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"
Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.
Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often. 
He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.
A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.
"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"
This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life. 
Hawks brings his visor back down. 
You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement. 
You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"
Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing. 
And scribbling his number on the back of one.
"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"
Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings. 
Hawks is smirking.
"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"
The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again. 
"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors. 
You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy. 
"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"
"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.
"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."
"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back. 
"Oh, hey! One last thing!"
You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.
You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'. 
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"You're kidding me."
Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.
"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"
"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"
It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"
"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"
"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.
Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."
The two of them high-five. 
...They're probably right.
You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.
I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday. 
It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining. 
You chew your lip.
Then, you decide.
You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster. 
"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.
"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster. 
"Ohmygod."
It's ringing.
Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.
"'Ello?"
Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out. 
"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"
Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"
A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."
"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."
Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."
Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.
Until now.
His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back. 
You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver. 
"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"
You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.
"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"
"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."
Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.
"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter. 
"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."
There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.
"I'd love that, Hawks."
This is new for him.
Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants. 
And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over. 
God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.
Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding. 
"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."
He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun. 
"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"
His laugh is warm. 
"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."
"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"
Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation. 
"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.
It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."
"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."
"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."
Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke. 
"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"
"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"
"I'm countin' on it."
"Bye, Hawks."
"See ya, chickadee."
You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.
Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"
"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."
Their screaming wakes up Hayami.
As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated. 
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seokmins · 2 years
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Now I just need HR to give me the right job title 😭
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ghostfacd · 10 months
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YOU PUT THE BALLAD IN THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. in which yn takes her career to the next level and drops a few bangers that left everyone in awe
installment of this au (recommend reading for context !!)
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ynuser guys. a lil secret i’ve been holding onto for my dear life that not even my bf knows, i wrote a song for tbosas!! you’ll definitely hear it after the movie’s over and the credits starts rolling. a fun, challenging, and exciting experience and i really really felt like i outdone myself so hopefully you guys like it as much as i do 🥹 (p.s first photo is when tom and i listened to it for the first time together and he was just in awe)
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tomblyth i love you my talented songbird !!
➥ user1 time to cry he called her his songbird
➥ user2 this is a sign that i should probably move on from tom blyth.. 😔
user3 just listened to it, it was absolutely amazing. yn stays changing lives
user4 YOU’RE SO TALENTEDDD
rachezegler lucy gray irl
➥ ynuser stopp ily
conangray YN AVOCOT, I LOVE YOU! - your #2 supporter (because tom insisted on being #1)
➥ tomblyth damn right i’m #1
user5 the second pic of her and tom 🥹🥹
user6 conan and yn r the best friends we needed
user7 her life seems so fun omg im jealous
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ynuser oops.. another secret?
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rachelzegler YN.
rachelzegler NOT TELLING UR OWN BEST FRIEND ABOUT IT?
➥ conangray stealing my title?? 😡😡
➥ ynuser you both are my best friends!
➥ tomblyth i thought i was your best friend?
user8 not the best friend argument 🫢
user9 GIRLL IM SO EXCITED FOR THE ALBUM
user10 she can act, she can sing, what else can’t she do?
user11 GUTS!
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tomblyth hi guys! as you all know, my amazing girlfriend just released her first album — GUTS! it’s honestly such an amazing album with songs that yn has held super close to her heart. I would love it if you guys supported her because she honestly deserves the world. YN, I’m so incredibly proud to be your boyfriend.
tagged @/ynuser
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ynuser tom. im crying.
➥ rachelzegler can confirm, she’s in tears rn
user12 i am so grateful that they met each other because they make each other so happy 😓
user13 he bought her cd and album 😭😭 i need a bf like tom
user14 “i am so incredibly proud to be your boyfriend” get married already cause wow.
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kithtaehyung · 2 months
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lollipop (3tan) (m) | myg
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title: lollipop (m) | part one: summer bbq pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) | broken (pt. 2) rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after the summer cookout ends, you say goodnight to your brother and his best friend. but the latter just had to have a lollipop in his mouth… and had to make you aware of it hours later.  note: this is part two of the three tangerines drabble summer bbq! undisclosed whether these are in the main storyline or not, so it’s a standalone for now. note 2: also..... hope y'all read this in private :))) hahahah  warnings: yoongi is the biggest warning, but reader almost inches him out here🤭, no joke we may need to form a new line for reader, kissing, hella kissing, a mirror makes an appearance.. 🫣, tense situations, tender moments, lollipop gets its own warning i’m so serious, cocky yoongi lolll explicit warnings: under the cut! drop date: july 22nd, 2024, 7:17pm est word count: 7.3k💀💀💀
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explicit warnings: food play (just roll with it😂), oral sex (m/f rec), masturbation, the struggle to keep quiet is real, mirrors are involved lord have mercy, spanking, breast play, multiple orgasms, yoongi hands, choking, fingering, face f*cking, titty shotsss, a little bit of manhandling and roughness but we love it🤭🤭, aftercare and cute cute reader afterwards
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It’s not long until you’re snuggled under your covers, every limb in your body relieved to be at rest. From getting ready, cooking for hours, to general host duties—all while trying to avoid sin in human form—you’ve completely exhausted your living battery. 
But for some reason, sleepiness is out of reach. 
Tiredness? For sure. But sleep seems to elude you, and you toss and turn before giving up and turning your television on. 
It’s after you get through two episodes of something random and endless doomscrolling that you get a text. 
From the last person that should be texting you right now.
And your heart slams on every brake it has.
Yoongi [2:37am]: You up?  
Umm.
What.
Why is he asking you that? It’s quite possibly the worst time and type of message to receive right now. 
Don’t overthink it. He probably just needs extra hands to drag your brother back to his room again.
You [2:37am]: mmhmm 
You [2:37am]: you need me for something?
With a sigh, you rest your phone by your side.
The last time that happened was so long ago. Back when you were fighting off sickness and absentmindedly grabbing tangerines to snack on.
You wonder what that man wants this time around.
Yoongi [2:37am]: Haha nah
Yoongi [2:37am]: Just curious
Well that’s interesting.
Is he still in the backyard? Somewhere in the house? You knew he was staying over, but is he in the guest room with Jimin lying down like you are?
Why is that making your soul squeeze? 
You [2:38am]: yeah i am. can’t sleep :\
After hitting send, you feel more awake than ever, staring at your ceiling changing hues from the light of your tv. 
It kinda hurts knowing Yoongi’s the closest he could be tonight. 
On one hand, you still remain feeling safer than ever, having all of them here. But on the other, you’d much rather Yoongi be right next to you, heart beating under the same covers and eyes covering you in moonlight.
He’s so close and yet… 
So damn far. 
Yoongi [2:39am]: Same. 
Your arm slings right over your eyes.
How is one word from him enough to make your legs shift? That is something that needs to be studied, but alas, you would only be the subject if someone paid you for it.
What do you say now? You miss him so much it practically hurts? You want him to be lying next to you even though it’s the riskiest thing in the world?
Maybe start slow.
You [2:40am]: did you have fun today? 
Shit, was that a little too slow? Abnormal? It’s not like you two have as much small talk as other people. Though you wouldn’t mind any type of talking with him at all, casual small talk just isn’t on the list of defaults.
When you check the next text you get, it’s hard to keep your phone from falling onto your face.
Yoongi [2:42am]: I’ll tell you if you open the door :)
Huh.
So much for starting slow what the fuck! 
You [2:43am]: ???
You [2:43am]: front door? 
Yoongi [2:43am]: Yours
There have been many times in which this man has made you speechless. Some just for being so heartstoppingly handsome; others for being the most considerate person you’ve ever met.
But this time?
You can’t even form all the reasons why you can’t form words.
You [2:44am]: ?????
Yoongi [2:44am]: 🤨
Yoongi [2:44am]: Feel like this is pretty easy stuff, doll 
What is happening? What possessed your brother’s legitimate ride or die to stand at your door while still in the same house? When other people are also staying over?
You’re so close. He’s right there. You can see a slight shadow underneath the wooden frame and it’s making your stomach silly.
But you have to be sure.
You [2:45am]: is he asleep? 
Yoongi [2:45am]: Yeah he’s out 
Getting up, you already miss the warmth of your sheets as you tiptoe towards the only thing separating you from the man you’ve yearned for all day long.
Fuck. If this isn’t the worst decision you’re ever gonna make in your life.
But damn it, you already knew you were gonna let him in as soon as he asked.
After checking what you’re wearing before knowing it doesn’t matter, you open your door while fearing what it reveals. 
And Yoongi slowly enters through the night—freshly showered, still studded with jewelry, and decked in clean clothes while dirtying your mind to hell.
Because of the goddamn lollipop in his mouth.
“What’s going on,” you whisper, knowing your brother could wake up at any second. Maybe. Possibly. Everything bad is always possible when you’re paranoid about it—especially since Yoongi is in your room! “What are you doing?”
Your secret wastes no time as he quietly shuts and locks the door, hair shifting down his head in damp waves as he takes out the sucker,
“This.”
Silent, he pulls you in slow for a kiss, melting you down with ease. When he presses you into one of your walls, you know the only thing propping you up is his pelvis molding with your front. 
Already, your senses are on high alert, wondering how long Yoongi plans on staying because as much as you want him here forever, you still want him in one piece. 
But it’s getting hard to concentrate on consequences and scenarios when this man is infiltrating your every thought. His lips feel like summer and his fragrance reminds you of spring, and you immediately know it’s that subtly scented body wash you picked to put in the guest bathroom. 
Strange. You both have now used each others’ soap and showers. That has to mean something intimate, right? How many people can say that about one another and not look into it too much?
Well, he technically hasn’t used the shower in your bathr—
“You looked great today,” Yoongi whispers into your neck. 
His kiss there renders you speechless for what seems like eons. Today. Uh huh. What were you thinking just now? “Thank you,” you finally sigh, relishing in the way he’s holding your side. “So did you.” 
“Thanks.” 
“I mean.. You always do, so. Nothing new there.”
Yoongi quietly huffs a laugh before tugging your hips. But he doesn’t say anything in return, and you wonder if he didn’t have an answer or just didn’t feel the need to. 
So your nerves fill the space again. “Is it weird that I missed you? You were here the whole time.” 
“Mm.” His kisses traverse up your shivering throat, and his raspy answer has your eyes fluttering shut, “I get that.”
Fuck, you can’t deal with him. “Is.. Is that so..”
“People miss me all the time.”
A snort. “Ass.”
Yoongi immediately laughs into your skin. “But they aren’t here now, are they?” When you don’t respond with anything substantial, he squeezes the side of your ass. “Are they.”
“No,” you hitch out. “But you shouldn’t be here, either.”
“Tell me to leave then.”
Shit. You can’t. You both know you can’t. You try so hard to stifle a moan when you feel Yoongi grip an asscheek, his lips finding your ear at the same time he gives a firm smack.
“Do it, doll.”
“I…” Fuck, he’s surrounding you and there’s no way no way out. “I can’t.”
“Good.” Yoongi then slides your hand from his side down to his legs, placing it on his very big, very hard length. “Cus I can’t fucking stay away from you.” 
You grip him through his pants, pleased when he moans deep. “What if he wakes up?”
“He won’t,” your handsome rebel purrs. “Drank for hours.”
“You sure?”
“Course I am.” Yoongi slides a finger along the outline of your breasts. “He tried to keep up and lost.”
“Typical.” 
He keeps doing exactly what you want him to do. It’s quite scary how well he knows your body now, but you’d also like to think you have a good level of knowledge with his.
Especially when you reach up to twist his nipple. 
A groan mixed with dark chuckles has your knees shaking, and you prolong it by doing something else you know—or think you know—he likes,
“I think you’d like it if I kicked you out now.”
The volcano inside Yoongi rumbles. “Is that so?”
“It is,” you huff out in mock triumph, loving how his cock twitches against your hand. “Or am I wrong?”
He flicks his eyes to yours before holding a gaze. A look so telling, and full, and searing. When his mouth flicks upward, he admits,
“I’d love it.”
Laughing as softly as you can, you stop to simply hug him. Leaning forward until your head rests, feeling the most at home and happy hearing his own amusement vibrating through his clothes. 
And just like that, you’re conflicted. 
What the hell are you doing? Even though passed out and sloshed, your brother could still wake up. It’s not like he’s totally gone. And if he catches his best friend in your room? There’s no telling what damage could be dealt.
Actually, the damage could be told in gruesome detail.
But the way Yoongi’s filling the distance from today, you really don’t want to stop. In fact, you don’t even want to pretend to shoo him off.
So this is your first step onto a precarious, unpredictable tightrope. A step you are very okay taking. 
“Babe?”
Shit, you got lost again. When you find your way back, Yoongi’s concern materializes at once,
“If you really aren’t down—”
“Fuck it.” 
Your kiss digs into his face so hard you strike gold, rewarded with a growl so potent it disrupts your core. Lightning zaps through your veins at the hands squeezing your hips, and you buck with a desperation that’s been stockpiling all day long.
Sliding along the wall, you notice that Yoongi tastes like alcohol and sugar, and you wanna lick every crevice you can reach, drunk off his cockiness and audacity alone. 
It’s no use fighting this. He’s really in your room, making out with you like a demon while the house is filled with your brother’s sleeping friends.
Fuck, you two could really get caught here.
The swirl in your belly keeps you on your toes, transforming your movements into sharp, hasty tugs on his clothes, hemlines, hair. You’re practically acting like you’ve never had him before and want to make up for all those missed opportunities.
Not like it’s any different every time.
But you’re quelled by a calm hand on your wrist. “As much as I like you like this,” Yoongi whispers across your cheek, “You can’t be too loud, baby girl.”
Your silent question must’ve escaped past your teeth. Because you hear a deep chuckle before shivers run down your spine,
“If you aren’t quiet enough I’m gonna fix that.”
Oh. Fuck.
“I didn’t even know I was talking,” you admit, body creasing in embarrassment and a bit of nervous laughs. Your grin cannot be contained by the fingers you slide up to cover it. “Oh, my god.” 
“What?” Yoongi’s devilish look is even more potent in the flashing lights of your television. “You serious?”
When you scrunch in deeper admittance, he flashes teeth with a wider smile than yours. It’s a prelude to the way he launches your heartbeat, his scent mesmerizing and his fingers lethal on the back of your neck. 
“Adorable.”
You groan into his swooping kiss, the rush of a thousand rivers carrying you to bliss. Breaths intertwined, the pair of you can’t seem to part until Yoongi accidentally shoulders something at his side.
Your mirror? When did you both travel so far that you got here? 
He lets off with a pop to steady the wavering furniture piece, pausing to make sure it’s stable before looking at the movie playing nearby.
And you watch in curiosity as he backs further into your room, eyeing himself in the mirror while slotting the sucker back into his mouth.
God. How did you forget he was still holding that?
And why can’t you move even as he turns around, even as he glances at the tv, even as he sits on the edge of your bed?
Move. Walk. Do something!
In the end, you can’t.
Because Yoongi’s stare alone gives you first time jitters, like you’ve never even conversed or much less slept with him before. 
How the fuck are you gonna get through the night? 
Swallowing and shooting one more look at your door, you pad your way to him, knowing he sees your nipples poking through your shirt and assuming there’s not much else you’re wearing. 
And he’s right. 
As you stop at Yoongi’s knees, you watch as he gives the lollipop another slow suck, groaning at the red smeared across his tainted lips.
That’s it. It’s decided. There’s no way you’re making it out alive.
“Get up here.”
Obliging but unhurried, you mount his lap, your heart skipping at the way he enjoys your shirt riding up your thighs.
So that damn sucker is gonna stay in his mouth? 
Min Yoongi is your enemy tonight.
Your nemesis, in fact. Even if he slides both free hands up your ass like that fuck he squeezes so expertly. Fuck. 
It’s keeping everything in you to hide your moan, your head falling forward as he slightly lifts you to drop you onto his comfy sweats.
When he chuckles in your ear, your muscles lock. And when he pops the lolly out of his mouth, you crumble at his mercy. “You were lucky to be off-limits today, doll.” 
“What…” You tense at another grip to your ass. “What do you mean.”
As you eye the silver around his neck, Yoongi’s smirk pours weight on your legs. “If you weren’t? There’s no telling what I would’ve done.”
You don’t think you’ve ever gulped so deeply. What toe-curling secrets is he hiding? Today could have gone a much, much different route depending on what he’d spill. “Tell… Tell me anyway.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
The man below you huffs quick, and you watch the corner of his mouth lift at a dangerous angle. “Would’ve kept you in that bathroom,” he divulges, voice dragging across the rattled surface of your brain. “Bent you over the sink.”  
Your breath hitches when he gets close, lips caressing your ear but words striking through your chest, “Just so you could watch me fuck you in that sundress.” 
“Fuck.”
“Uh uh,” Yoongi coos, chuckle so, so deep. “Quiet, baby girl.”
“I just…” It’s already hard to think around this demon of a person. But it’s even more difficult when he’s got your ear in his teeth. “Wait.” 
As he pulls away, the light of your television highlights his features. And you find that this specific, comforting look of attentiveness is what attracts you the most. 
Now that you can think clearly, you remember exactly what you were gonna do. It’s simple but significant nonetheless. 
Because your dress from today is in the laundry already. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have another one. Another very particular one he may remember, in fact. 
“Go over there,” you whisper, smile wide as you dismount. “Turn around.” 
When he wordlessly asks what you’re up to, a single finger presses against your lips before you assure, “Just trust me.” 
The way his brows scrunch makes your cheeks hurt as you watch him get up and swivel, endeared by the casual lean on your wall and the lollipop stuck in his cheek. Just as his head falls in waiting, you slip into your closet, darkness getting even darker as you enter.
Due to an afterthought, you pop your head out. “No peeking in the mirror.”
“Uh huh.”
Satisfied, you go back to your lightless search. 
You know exactly what you’re going for. It’s too easy for you to locate your chosen piece of clothing before stripping and changing as orderly as you can. 
Okay. This is okay because you’re alone, right? No one else is here. Technically. Okay.
As you make your way out, a million nerves pop and fizzle under moonlight. The air surrounding your bare shoulders proves charged. Electric enough to send shivers down to your pedicured toes.
Composing yourself before you break, you softly catch his attention as you eye the sucker poised in his fingers,
“Ready.”
The moon waits.
Your breath follows.
And when Yoongi turns, you know you’ll never forget this moment. It feels exactly like the time in that restaurant long ago, but more potent. Shimmering. 
Because you’re wearing the same sundress he witnessed you in on the night of Dom’s party. 
And you’ve never been so delighted to see the stars in his eyes go dark.
You expect him to call you over. Whether with words or not, you’re gonna do whatever he wants—because it’s what you want… too…
Yoongi’s aura billows as he closes the distance himself. No words. No gestures. Just step by breath-taking step, air around him so charged and commanding that your knees threaten to buckle. 
For reasons you won’t admit, your mouth can’t even create sounds. All you want to ask is if he likes the dress, or if he even cares you aren’t as dressed up as before. 
Of course he wouldn’t give a single shit. But you can’t stop yourself from these thoughts just yet. 
Swallowing, you stare as he rolls the sucker in his mouth, eyes in no other direction but yours. “You, umm. Does this one work instead? The other one is in the—”
Quick isn’t fast enough to describe what’s happening, your shoulders pressing into the nearest wall as your lips get consumed by lust and possession. Everything in your body tingles, and for a split second you wonder how Yoongi managed to swing you around so swift with barely a sound. 
Stars fly from your eyes before they slip shut, pouring want onto his veins as he circles strong arms across your waist. Sparks erupt the scant distance between your hips and his, and you are once again reminded why you feel so high-strung. 
There are so many people staying over. Not just Yoongi and Jimin. From what you can recall, at least ten people are passed out around the house, any of which could wake up for a bathroom break or something at any second. 
And yet. You will not tell this man to leave. Truthfully, this is exhilarating and all you’re doing is ki—
“Get down there.”
Oh, fuck. 
This is the new point of no return. 
If you do this, not only will Yoongi be a goner, but so will you. Both of you would never, ever come back from this. 
But that fucking lollipop…
Screw everything to hell.
Your smile grows with his, lip bitten in the throes of your newfound excitement. You already feel how rock solid he is through his pants, and you make it a point to stroke him on the way to the ground. 
There’s so little room that your ass skims the wall, your chest the second part to slide along his covered length and causing him to groan out a curse. 
Is there a shift here? Did you change the whole dynamic with one move? Maybe you’re the one with the power now. 
“Look at me.”
Ah. Maybe not.
Obedient, you stare upward, catching the fire in Yoongi’s eyes as he gives the sucker one more pass in his mouth. 
God, he makes it look so enticing. It’s just a piece of candy but you’ve never been this desperate to have one, too. Or be the one treated with his tongue like that goddamn does he have to make it seem so erotic?
With a pop, Yoongi releases the stick, lips shiny and tainted in the television lights. When he lowers it, you realize it’s descending—farther and farther—until it stops in front of your face. 
And shivers overtake you.
“Suck.” 
Well. You’ve never done something like this before. In all the relationships you’ve been in, you have never experienced anything like this. Much less in your own house. 
Which makes your eyes flare and the monster in your belly rumble, fire hissing from its nose and prying your mouth open to do exactly what you were told. 
“That’s my girl.”
Sugar coats your tongue immediately. Glowing, the heat in your core stokes embers, warning with each loll, each cave of your cheeks. You treat the candy so tenderly Yoongi will deny jealousy, and your lips pucker and puff with a sheen. 
Are you glistening as much as his eyes? Are you causing him as much grief as he has put you through?
You damn well hope so. Yoongi isn’t the only one that’s gonna unleash his needs from the whole day. 
So you keep sucking with closed eyes, swirling your tongue around the lolly and licking it just how you would his tip. It tastes like sweet rebellion, but also late nights with your friends. And with a fleeting thought, you know said friends would grill you if they ever found out this was happening.
Maybe Tae would just laugh his ass off. 
Fuck, this is so unbelievably risky. Your door is locked, sure. But the guest room is still very much missing an occupant and one look in there and at Yoongi’s car in the street would cause an eruption.
Through the haze of your thoughts, you hear shuffling and a low droning grunt. 
With one glance, you know Yoongi is crumbling. The shadowed promises under his bangs make you preen, and you remain on the precipice of anxiousness and glee.
“Keep that tongue out for me.”
Clearly, he doesn’t give a shit about risk.
So gladly, you oblige, flinching when the lollipop is replaced by something you’re much more familiar with, and your eyes bat on instinct as you know exactly what to do with this one.
When did he shove his pants down? Were you that lost in your sticky treat that you didn’t even notice? 
Doesn’t matter. You feel his beautiful weight on your stained tongue and it’s second nature to pleasure. When you grab hold of his base, you give one more suck before popping him out of your mouth to lick down.
For someone that’s been shushing you, Yoongi’s groan is not quiet, and you pause just in time to see him grit his teeth with a nose scrunched to hell.
And his attention is sideways. What is he…
Oh. Fuck.
You can see yourself in your mirror on the other wall. 
Is that… you? The one looking back with a visage so arousing your breath stops? If this is the person that Yoongi brings out you actually feel your confidence inflate like a parade balloon.
“So fucking hot.”
When you laugh in shyness, his eyes slide shut in agony as he rakes through his hair. Crumbling inside, you offer a compliment of your own, 
“You’re so unfair when you do that.” 
Yoongi has the audacity to grin wide as he grips his long strands. “This?” 
“Ugh. Whatever.” You wanna smack that smirk right off his face.
So you keep going, loving the way his walls and defenses are back to shattering at your knees. From your inappropriate level of experience with his cock, you go for what you know. Licking his underside, swirling around the tip, sucking just the first bit, gathering spit all over before taking him in deep. 
The smells around you coalesce into something potent. With the fruitiness of the lolly and the headiness of Yoongi, it’s pure bliss in your nostrils and you soak it all in. There’s no pause in your sucking, licking, tugging him rough. You’re giving it your all and feeling the effects between your legs. 
Suddenly. 
Huffs litter around your sundress as Yoongi yanks himself out, sticking the sucker in your mouth again while holding your head. And his smile puts devils to shame when he scoffs, “Unfair, my ass.”
You giggle, sliding the pop up and down your outstretched tongue before slowly pushing it in. When you watch one of his veiny hands grip his cock, your brain resets and rewires, prompting you to be a little bit more daring.
As if this whole situation wasn’t daring enough.
You coyly slide one of your sundress straps down your arm, slowly revealing the top of a breast before going for the other side. Not enough to show everything. But enough to give him a much better view from above. 
And the sound you hear in response causes pulses between your legs,
“What the fuck.”
Satisfied, you ride this high of praise and keep diligently sucking on the lolly, watching him pump himself until you can’t can’t can’t take it anymore.
It all happens in quick succession, your hand outright slapping the lollipop out of his hand before grabbing for him, shaky fingers knocking into his slick ones before slipping his dick in your mouth.
“Shit—”
His scent captures your nostrils as he bucks forward, knocking your throat and causing your gag to hit the wall. When you keep sucking, Yoongi grabs your chin, chains swaying as he rocks in, out, in, out again.
Drool and spit cover your neck, seeping onto his fingers as he keeps them where he wants. Imagining how you look in the mirror makes you moan, and imagining Yoongi watching everything from his view makes your cunt leak onto your thighs. 
Fuck you wanna watch, too. What does that say about you? You’re legitimately jealous that you can’t see yourself taking Yoongi so deep he’s cursing in strings. 
When you choke, it’s disgustingly loud, so he has to pull out once again just to command, “Quiet.”
“Ye—” 
He’s shoved back in before you can finish one syllable, back out after a single suck before he drives his point home, “Understand?” 
“Y—”
Your words are pushed down your throat again, the intensity Yoongi’s exuding rolling your eyes back and shaking your muscles. Spent and unable to speak, you nod around him, and your arms are suddenly gathered against the wall until you’re fully flushed, held up by one of his strong hands.
“Good girl.”
You brace yourself for his complete control, dick sliding down your throat and pushing tears out of your eyes. Breathing through your nose, you keep your tongue flat, taking him in until your full body gag alerts him to pull out. 
As soon as he does, you buckle straight towards the mirror, eyes bursting with shock as you drink in the man watching your heaving, shimmering chest.
“This is what you do to me, doll.” When you shift your attention upward, you gulp at his smile of pride. “Can you stand?” 
“I…” Holy shit, he fucked the voice right out of you. “I think so.” 
“Here.” 
You place your hand in his, muscles in your legs stinging at the change in position. When you go slow, Yoongi lets you, and your lips curve tenderly at the way he kisses you at your peak. 
“You almost made me come,” he whispers, chuckling when you watch his eyes. “Fuckin’ hustler.” 
“You didn’t want to?” 
“Not yet.” Winking, Yoongi gives you another peck before getting close. 
As you look in the mirror, you catch the way he kisses along your neck, his hair tickling your skin and his arms bent as he holds yours. It’s almost enough to make you feel higher than royalty, now knowing what it looks like to be feasted on by a king.
“Promise me something,” he rasps. 
“Anything,” you whisper in confidence.
“It’s your turn now.” Another kiss to your ear makes you flinch. “But if you’re too loud that’s all you get.” 
Bold statement coming from the guy that couldn’t stay silent. But you’re far too gone to dwell on the past so all you can do is nod in understanding. You need this. After today? You really fucking need this.
Yoongi tucks himself back in his sweats before kissing your neck again, lips leaving a trail along the tracks left by your own actions. When he gets to your chest, he gets to unwrap another treat, slowly peeling your dress down to suck on a nipple. 
You almost cut the whole thing short. 
A hand flies up over your mouth, and you watch your face twist in anguish in the glass. Sparks tingle from where Yoongi slides his tongue, and seeing this man in action from another viewpoint launches you across the edge instead of right to it. 
You’re gonna get yourself caught. There’s no way you aren’t crying out by the time he’s done but goddamn you’ve got to keep it toge—
Deft fingers rub your other nipple, causing your body to jump forward and Yoongi to chuckle into your chest. After he squeezes, you watch as he pops off your tit. “What’d I say.” 
This is the hardest thing you’ve ever done! 
You can only shake your head, hand still preventing your mouth to move and your throat stinging from suppressed screams. 
“That’s what I thought,” Yoongi quips before kissing the rest of your dress downward. 
And the fucker didn’t even look back at the mirror. Like he already knows exactly what he looks like or doesn’t care in the slightest. All he’s focused on is you and you alone, and you’re so enamoured that you watch his head below you, too. 
Calmly and surely, Yoongi lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing along your skin and gripping you tight. When he lifts a brow upward, you nod downward, bracing yourself for him to notice something else you had planned to show.
Works like a sinful charm. His reaction could be felt better than seen. 
Because as soon as he notices that you don’t have any underwear on, Yoongi pours out dark amusement before giving your cunt the deepest kiss it’s ever felt.
A mewl smushes into your fingers as you cave, eyes shutting so tight as he eats you out like a man starved and never satiated. 
His licks hit just right, and the way he tongues you causes stars to pierce your eyes through. Over and over and over, Yoongi is merciless in how he pleasures, and your esophagus burns and burns and burns. 
Both your legs quake as he slips a finger under his tongue, and your eyes fly open just in time to see yourselves in the mirror again. 
Holy fuck.
You’ve always known this man was attractive. Overwhelmingly so, in fact. But seeing him on his knees and knowing it’s not a dream makes you so dizzy your brain can’t keep up. 
Yoongi’s hands flex on your skin with each minuscule grip, and his hair bunches as he moves between your legs. Your thigh covers his face, but maybe that’s for the best, because you don’t think you could handle watching his tongue while feeling it inside. 
“So fucking wet,” he hisses out before diving in again, and you use your other hand to grapple a chunk of his drying hair. “Fuck.”
Yes, keep going. He’s so close to making you come you squeeze even harder. By now, your whole upper body is burning with unreleased yells and your lower body is suffering just as much. He’s too good. Way too good for a quiet house.
You can’t hold it in. You can’t you can’t you can’t.
“Yoongi, please”—your legs start to twinge with want and pending release—“Gonna come, I—”
Everything snaps as soon as he reaches to grope your ass, tugging you forward to lick a spot that has you vibrating like mad. 
And your orgasm is so potent that your knees legitimately buckle, your body slipping with no purchase before you catch yourself on the wall. Waves hit you from all directions and you let out one yelp before you feel a moist hand clamp over your lips.
Oh, he’s standing now. Oh, he’s fingering you. Oh fuck, he’s talking you through your orgasm and you can’t understand him but your body reacts either way. 
“—another one for me.”
Your pulses wreck your body into angles, each one shifting into another as your mouth is still covered. Yoongi’s fingers prove fatal as he leads you into a second paradise, and you cry into his hand as you come into his other—harder, stronger. 
“Just like that, doll, fuck.”
Tears stream down your cheeks again as you lift, soaring into the summer skies and leaping over sleeping souls. It’s too much to keep inside. Too powerful to not let out all at once. 
“—this fucking dress.”
You don’t know what’s being said. Nor do you care. Your body is so spent from the vicious tempest and all the energy leaves you at once. 
“Uh uh.”
What. 
“One more for me,” Yoongi goads. “And you’re gonna watch this time.” 
Your chest beats and beats as his fingers pump slow, and your head lolls to the side as you catch sight of your salacious act in the mirror. 
Immediately, you know exactly why he said that. Watching the way his arms bulge with effort is encouragement enough to stay upright. With each thrust, you can see your dress hitching with your arches, and Yoongi dives into your neck to strike lightning. 
“Baby—” You feel it. You feel a third wave incoming and its crest seems higher than the rest. 
“Come for me,” he whispers, his dark bangs peeking from behind your neck in the mirror and his throat stretching out. “And don’t fucking scream.” 
Fuck! Your hand grips your mouth so bad it will leave soreness. But water pulls you under and twists you like a ragdoll. Unlike the other times, this orgasm quivers your legs to the point where Yoongi teases. And he can’t stop praising you for being naughty, for letting him in here, for letting him destroy you while everyone’s here.
“I love it,” you whoosh out into his throat, voice cracked and chipped. “Fuck, I love it.” 
“I know you do.” Another deep set of laughs. “You’re a problem.”
Head lolling forward, you slowly slip right into Yoongi’s arms before he helps you stand. “Come on,” he leads, walking you a short distance to your bed before chuckling at your cartoonish collapse.
Some moments pass. One, two, four or five more. Even the room seems to swim a little in your vision when you struggle to open your eyes. 
Finally, after breathing hard, you can only manage a gravelly, “Holy shit.” 
Yoongi laughs soft before wiping your forehead. “You okay?” 
“Yeah,” you exhale, chest heaving and heaving. “I’ll be good.” 
Fingers still wisping across your face, he praises, “So beautiful.” 
You finally calm your pulse before you slide your hand over his cock. “Did you come?” 
“Nah.” 
Looks like you aren’t done. “Mm,” you whisper, trying your best to prop yourself up. “Lie down for me.” 
“You sure?” 
You nod with heavy eyes, and he slowly occupies your bed while you caress him again. So smooth and so tender before squeezing just right. 
It’s already almost enough because Yoongi throws his head onto your pillow. “Goddamn.”
When you slip his sweats down, you use willpower alone to consume him again. You will not rest until he’s fully content, too. With this in mind, your cheeks and jaw work overtime. 
You want this, want this, want this. He gave you the world and then some, you can run on fumes to make him a mess. After all, you’re drunk off the pleasurable cocktail he just concocted with his tongue. This will carry you despite your functioning levels in the trenches. 
“Babe—”
For a split second, you forget where you are. Your eyelids droop so low and your body twinges with aftershocks as you spit right onto his cock, sliding your lips along his pretty length before you feel him tug your sheets.
“Shit.”
He’s close. He doesn’t even have to tell you. You can tell by the way his body reacts and bends and folds, and you quickly decide what that means for you.
Because you could swallow. 
But you instead make your way to the floor, commanding him before realizing just how authoritative and raspy you sound, 
“Sit up.”
Right as he does, you pump him right above your exposed chest, shocking him so abruptly his low groan shakes your core,
“Oh, fuck—”
Hot, thick spurts land all over you, his release your only focus and not the pain in your knees from hitting the floor in round two. As his head rolls back, you watch with heightened pride, loving the way he looks lost in delicious, honeyed ecstasy.
And just like that, both of you are satisfied. Both of you got what you needed and wanted from this… hot summer… day…
There was a sound outside your door, further down the hall but fucking close enough. 
And holy shit his cum is on your tits.
Holy shit holy shit this is the absolute last thing you should’ve let him do what the fuck what the fuck! 
If anyone sees you like this you are both finished. Cooked. Banished.
You glance at the door, body locking and hands massive weights at your side. 
One second. 
Two seconds. 
You’re fully awake now. 
Four seconds. 
Nothing else happens. Your ears strain wildly but you don’t hear any noises in succession, and you wonder if it was just a snore or something similar. 
Sighing, you breathe out relief before peering straight up.
And the look you get in return is pure, primal hunger. 
Yoongi’s never looked like this. Maybe he’s come close that one time before, but this is much different. 
What is this? His pupils are magnified and his lids are lowered in fire, stoking the heat within you and clutching your cunt with his eyes alone. You’re so wet that you can come again if he so much as touched you. “Baby?” 
Yoongi simply grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “Just want this in my phone so fucking bad.” 
Oh. Well, fuck. 
You blink at his shamelessness. But it makes you so exhilarated and shy that you resort to your default—cracking jokes. Of all the things he could’ve mentioned like the sound outside or possibly getting caught and dragged to hell he decides he wants your pictures in his phone. Right.
“Happy you painted me like Picasso?” You laugh before you can even finish, but so does Yoongi as he throws his head back. 
Immediately, the atmosphere calms. “You heard that earlier?” 
“He’s an idiot.” 
“He is.” Yoongi helps you up and onto your bed before he asks, “Towels in your bathroom?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Under the sink.”
You watch as he goes to fetch them, heart pulsing extra hard at his consideration. When he bustles around in a room you use everyday, it’s surreal to witness. Both unnatural, but so natural at the same time. 
He’s careful not to make loud sounds, gently closing your cabinets and coming back with a cloth he ran under water.
A sudden pang hits your chest and you have no clue why.
Is it because you’ll never see him in there again? Or is it because of the conversation you just brought up? 
Maybe both. The convo from earlier today still rings in your ears, everyone hounding Yoongi about the scratches you left on his back. They were old but still very visible. You need to be more mindful of what you can and can’t do right now. 
As Yoongi wipes your shivering chest, you ask something that’s been weighing on your mind, “Did I get you in even more trouble?” 
He just looks at you before finishing his cooling task, raising straps back onto your shoulders. “Course you did.” 
Ah. He didn’t seem bothered, but your apology follows him as he goes to pick up the abandoned candy from earlier. “Sorry. I didn’t think about it at the time.” 
“S’ok. Hope you’re fine being some chick from outta town, though.” 
Your chuckle hurts your throat on the way out. Not from disappointment, but from the very man you’re talking to. “I can deal with that. Is she nasty?” 
It takes a bit for him to discard everything. When he comes back, he bends down to answer, 
“So fuckin’ nasty.” 
You giggle right into his kiss. Fully spent, your arms around his neck pull him in close, and his rough laugh makes your legs even weaker. “Can’t believe we just did all that.”
“Same.”
“Guess you like the dress, huh?”
A hand comes up to squeeze your thigh. “Dunno. Might have to see it again when the sun’s out.”
“Ass.”
“You get it.”
“Wow.” 
Yoongi hisses amusement, shifting to lay beside you across your bed. When he does, light from the window hits him just right, and you fall silent at once.
So perfect. So unfair.
“I think this is my favorite,” you admit, not giving him full context. So when he wordlessly asks for it, you reach up and caress his cheek. “When you look happy.”
“I am,” he says after a pause. “Cus of you.”
You feel starlight in your own eyes. “I’m happy, too.”
For this, Yoongi doesn’t need to ask for more context at all.
The lingering fear of being caught is still there, but it’s not as present now. Maybe it’s because you’re both content again, but you don’t feel too stressed. 
Did you want to get caught that whole time? Surely not when things were going down.
But what about now? If someone saw you lost in each others’ stars, would you care if they plucked you from the sky? 
Staring into this man’s eyes, you can’t bring yourself to say you would. 
“When will I see you again?” you blurt out of nowhere.
At this, Yoongi props his head up with an elbow. “When do you want to?”
“Tomorrow.”
His chest bobs with his laugh. “I’ll make sure to see you before I head out then.” 
You nod, eyes shutting when Yoongi goes in for another kiss. 
Another kiss is how you frame it. Because a final kiss is too painful to think about. 
Yoongi has to leave. You know he literally cannot stay.
But facts and logic don’t make this parting any easier, and your heart breaks when he slips out of your bed.
It’s too soon. Yes, it’s also way past the time he should be in your room, but it’s too fucking soon. 
Your chest burns. Sears make fiery ridges along your ribs until they overtake your heart, creeping closer and closer.
Until Yoongi bends to kiss you again, fingers slotting into yours and squeezing some liquid out of your eyes. 
But his rasp gives you pause, “I did, by the way.”
Blinking, you feel him swipe at oncoming tears when you ask, “You did what?”
“Have fun.”
Oh. Wait, he’s answering the text you sent? You already forgot about that. Ages ago. “Good,” you say with a slight ghost of a smile. “It looked like you were having a good time. And I.. Really liked seeing you laugh.”
Yoongi just stares, thoughts and emotions skimming across his eyes. When you reach up to cradle his cheek, they then slip shut, brows dipping as he presses into you further. “You were the reason,” he admits with no hesitation.
Don’t cry more. Not now.
He gives you one more hug, and you cradle his head into your skin. “Good night, baby,” you whisper so softly, planting a kiss on his cheek. 
When he does the same to yours, you wonder if his reaction was also reminiscent of tiny sparklers on a summer night. 
“Night, doll.” 
The steps he takes all stomp on your heart. 
But you find solace in the hopeful future. One where you can stand next to him at summer barbecues, or host them with him, or just simply be anywhere with him. 
But mostly, you’re yearning for a future where you don’t have to keep watching him leave through a door. 
But come back through one.
-
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fin. :)
-
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🍭so... how did it go!🍭 | join the server! | join the taglist!
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a/n: thank you to everyone that has stuck around while i took my huge rest! it was a little strange to not be here everyday talking to you all, but looking back, the resting and step back was needed. although it looks like some people left - whether the blog or in general - i am happy to see so many familiar and new people! let's keep having fun with the 3tanverse and beyond, yeah? a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! i'll be here to talk and scream with y'all whenever, and it should be more frequent now. also be on the lookout for some physical copy interest checks! we are getting closer to 3tan copies being A Real Thing! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
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daenysx · 16 days
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hi bby, could i request jealous modern!aemond?😊
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i tried my best but i feel like everything was better in my head, i hope i managed to get things right with the words <333 thanks for requesting
modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
-aemond needs to get you back.
cw; kinda like exes to lovers, jealous!aemond, aemond being an idiot and he's sorry for that, criston cole in his own warning, reader's shorter than aemond, mentions of alcohol, kissing, aemond being desperate to get you back, also he's a sad fool and he accepts that, suggestive towards the end but nothing descriptive, title is a hozier lyric
wc; 2k
i'll crawl home to her
aemond likes to think he's good at controlling his emotions. at least he can keep his face neutral, he doesn't let people know what he thinks.
that turns out to be a lie, though, the moment he sees a guy behind the bar stool you sit.
he relaxes his fists. you're not his girlfriend. he has no right to feel jealous over your affections. who's that guy, anyway? how can he be bold enough to talk to you like this, leaning to the bar with his arm almost wrapped around you? aemond hates the idea of someone being braver than him. he fucking despises the idea of you giving a smile to that- that asshole.
"you okay?" cole asks, his glass almost empty in his hand. he follows aemond's gaze and, boom. just like he guessed.
"of course, i'm okay." aemond replies, coolly. there's no logical reason behind his real emotions.
"if you keep staring like that, she will notice."
aemond turns to him sharply. his gaze is burning, almost feels like crying or something worse than that. "i'm not staring."
"if you say so." cole shrugs. he's got worse problems than dealing with aemond's jealousy to be honest. he knows aemond will never admit what's happening in truth.
"do you- do you know who that is?" aemond asks, not that he thinks cole can actually know a random guy at the bar. he tries to fill the stupid silence between them, change the subject after that, storm out when he finishes his drink. he despises the pathetic situation he unwillingly put himself into.
"do i know the guy who's flirting with your ex-girlfriend?" cole pretends to think. "um- no, i don't actually."
the mention of you burns his chest. it's because of the whisky, he tells himself. keep your cool, keep your cool. don't let them know anything.
"it doesn't matter, anyway." he says, feeling like a desperate fool.
"no, it doesn't." cole agrees. aemond can sense his mocking, his tendency to talk boldly tonight. cole isn't like that usually. "because you are not together anymore."
"we're not."
"because you let her go." cole continues, takes a sip from his glass. "it was quite stupid of you if you ask me."
"i didn't ask you, cole."
"no, no, but just- what were you thinking when you decided to break things off with her, hmm? what was the motivation behind it?"
"you're going too far."
"i'm not." cole says. "you just can't face with your own decisions."
"fuck off." aemond stands up, getting his jacket. "you don't even know what you're talking about. didn't ask your damn opinion about my love life, did i?"
"just admit you failed, aemond. lost the one good thing about you." cole speaks calmly after him. "you'd do all of us a great favor."
aemond walks away. there's no need for drunken arguments tonight, he's certainly not in the mood for discussing his past decisions. he can't help a brief look on your seat, though. you're not there. he didn't see you leaving, he can't see your jacket or that sparkly purse you love so much. the guy stays where he is, chatting with his friends. where are you?
"oh!" someone shorter than him almost collapses with his chest. "aemond?"
aemond wishes you to not look so pretty with that smudged eye make up and- his fucking favorite color on your lips. what kind of strength should he have to not kiss you against the wall when you're looking at him through those glossy eyes? he takes a step back, an apology ready on his lips.
you beat him through it. "sorry." you say, blinking your pretty eyes. "didn't see you there."
"no, it's okay." he collects himself before doing something stupid. "i was walking too fast."
you nod, your purse in your hand and your jacket thrown on your shoulders. you don't look drunk, maybe just tipsy. turning your back to him, you keep walking your way, out of the club. running into your ex-boyfriend shouldn't stop you from going home.
aemond thinks of the guy back there. you're not together with him, are you? he's not with you right now, he doesn't call a cab, and you don't look like you're waiting for anyone. that must be a relief. it doesn't feel like it, though. aemond is certain anyone who sees you would fall for your charms, that guy was no exception. all the hypothetical men get into his head. fuck them all.
"are you alone?" he asks you, foolishly. you nod. no words for him. why would you bother?
"i can- my car is over there if you-"
"i don't want anything from you, aemond."
okay. he deserves this. he knows he deserves this.
"it's late." he says. "i know you don't want anything to do with me, but i can at least-"
"i said no." you cut him. "you don't have to pretend to care."
you start walking in the cool breeze of night air. it feels nice on your face. aemond follows you like he's lost, like he doesn't know where to go without you. "can we talk?" he asks, his voice is softer than the last time you talked. "please?"
"there's nothing to talk about." you tell him, looking at him briefly.
"i made a mistake." he says like he's pleading. the alcohol gets him, his lips move on their own. he keeps telling himself he won't regret anything he tells you right now. he's not drunk, that means they are all real. "i made many mistakes. letting you go was the worst of them."
"that sounds like an interesting story." you say, sarcastically. "would you like to continue? i'm sure people on the street will enjoy your freak show."
he has no explanation for this but your attitude turns him on.
"i saw you with that guy." he says.
"you really should stop talking now." you say. "you're being pathetic."
"no, i-" he can get on his knees and beg. he's cursing his past self, cursing his stupid decisions. "please."
"please, what?" you get angrier each second. this is not a game you'll be playing with him. "do you realize how stupid you sound?"
"of course i do." he answers with a slight pout. "i just need you to see- to understand how terrible it makes me feel, to- to see you with another guy and not being able to do anything about it-"
"no need to be so selfish." you say, calmly. "i'm not your anything. you cannot react like this every time we run into each other by chance."
"i regret it." his legs can give up any second now. he begs for something divine to help him out of his misery. "i regret everything i did. i never should have let you go."
your heartbeat gets quicker with anger and adrenaline. the fact that you're still hopelessly in love with him does nothing to calm your nerves. he doesn't deserve your love. you will not accept anything he says until he proves he's worthy. you try to control your breath, stop your hands from shaking. he has no right to do this, you remind yourself.
"it's too late." you say. "you don't deserve to get everything back after you let them go like the way you did."
he looks at you so sweetly, you have to swallow and look away. he's fond of that attitude of yours, how you put yourself first after he hurt you, and his chest tightens with the loss of you there but he can't help a wave of affection towards your frowny face and your crossed arms. there's his girl, you're still there, still present with your anger and precise words. he would to anything to get you back.
"i know." aemond agrees, slowly. "i promise, i know- and you're right, whatever you decide to do, you're right."
"are you trying to fix us just because you saw me with another guy?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed.
"no, of course not. not only because of that." he says quickly. "i wanted you back since the first time you walked out. i just didn't have enough courage to talk to you."
"so you're admitting you were being stupid and acting like coward?" you challenge him with two things he hates the thought of being the most.
"it was stupid of me to break up with you." he says slowly. he's gonna have to be a big boy for this. "i was only trying to protect you from my family and- and myself, but i acted cowardly."
"i can protect myself." you say. "i don't need you to decide for me."
"i know that, sweetheart." he smiles. it's a tiny move on his lips, he's always so fond of your independent nature. "i apologise for not speaking things clearly."
it's your turn to smile. you take a step towards him, he stays still. the top buttons of his shirt expose his neck nicely, the chain you got him hanging there. he never let you go. he was only being an idiot. you think you want him back. he can fix his own idiocity by himself, but you want him back.
"what do you want?" you ask with a kind voice like you're teasing. you're not teasing, not in the least but he doesn't know that, does he?
"i want you to be my girlfriend again." he says, straightening his posture. his shoulders are high, his neck long. he feels like a dragon ready to fight for you. "if you'll have me."
you push him softly against the wall behind him and cup his cheeks. he accepts the kiss greedily, changing positions so that your back is against the wall. he makes a rightful mess of your lipstick, his hands on your waist and on the back of your neck. you close your eyes. his scent hits your senses so well, your hand goes to his shoulder to pull him closer.
you break the kiss. "you cannot do the same thing again, okay? you cannot leave me and come back, you cannot think for my place and make my decisions when it comes to you and our relationship."
"okay." he says, his eye closed and his lips following your mouth. "i promise."
"good." you say, pull him for another kiss. it's only been two weeks but you missed him. he feels safe like this, and familiar with his body pressed against yours against the wall of a club. the darkness of the night covers you, your sparkly purse is the only thing that can be seen from a distance.
aemond kisses you like he's been out of breath for so long. he's been a desperate fool for days but now it's over. everything gets clear when he gets you like this, his mind free of worry and anger, all those devilish thoughts that bother him. he's content with his place, he doesn't have to pretend he's okay. it's all real.
"by the way-" you start saying between two lovely kisses. "that guy back there already has a lover named charles. you didn't have to worry about him anyway."
aemond laughs and it's a real laugh, not one of the fake ones he has to throw into aegon's or cole's face. you smile and he kisses your cheek. you hold his hand, he squeezes your fingers.
"i like your dress." he changes the subject, leading you to his car. "is that new?"
"of course it is." you answer, cheekily. "my boyfriend decided to be a jerk for no reason and i had to keep myself busy with something."
aemond had no idea the night could turn into something amazing when he first agreed to come here with cole. he can't keep his hands off you, kisses you against the car this time. he's gotta find a way to make up for the time he made you lost. kissing you and getting you your favorite drink on the way home might be a good start.
he gives you a silent promise to atone his sins between your legs in the following hours.
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