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#I love her so much for finding such good content 💜
quietblueriver ¡ 2 days
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fingers crossed for your writing! prompt for you: mask
Hi!! Thank you so much for the prompt and the crossed fingers. Very happy to be writing Avatrice again. Here’s a short, soft thing and a play on both mask and masc that’s hopefully not too far off the mark. 💜💜💜
Ava leans against the doorway and watches as Beatrice stares at a black t-shirt that she assumes came from the basket of clean clothes beside the bed, lips pulled down at the corners, a few locks of newly shorn hair falling over her forehead with the angle. Ava wants to tuck it back, run her own thumbs over the buzzed sides in that way that makes Beatrice close her eyes and breathe a little deeper.
“Hey,” she says more quietly than she normally would, smiling gently as Bea’s attention snaps to her, body visibly tightening in the moment it takes for her to assess Ava’s threat level. Once a soldier and all that.
“Sorry to surprise you.” She sticks out a socked foot and wiggles it, thick pink and purple stripes on display. “Got a comfy assist with my stealth game. Camila was not joking with this yarn.”
The tension leaves Bea’s body as she lifts her left leg from where it hangs over the side of the bed to wiggle back with her own pair, a more muted blue and gray sticking out from the bottom of gray sweatpants. She doesn’t say anything, but she puts the shirt down and shifts on the bed, tucking socked feet criss-cross underneath her knees and creating a space that Ava fills happily, crossing her own legs so that their thighs are pressed together.
“You good?”
“Yes,” Beatrice offers quickly before she catches herself, shrugging a shoulder at Ava with a small smile. “Mostly,” she amends, and Ava indulges her earlier impulse and presses Bea’s hair back from her forehead before running her thumb over the clipped hair just above her ear. As she’d hoped, she gets fluttering eyes and a content sigh.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Brown eyes blink open and she runs a hand through her hair before turning her head to face the mirror that hangs from their closet door. Ava’s eyes follow, and they meet in the glass, Ava leaning over to rest her chin on Bea’s shoulder.
“‘Sup, handsome?” Her breath tickles Bea’s cheek and she rolls her eyes even as she smiles that smile she saves for Ava, a little bit of pink in her cheeks.
Her eyes drift and Ava presses a kiss to her cheek before settling back and giving her some space.
“I look like my uncle.”
Ava stops fiddling with their duvet, brings her eyes slowly back to Beatrice in the mirror. She’s waiting for her, lips turned up just slightly and eyes soft, and she dips her head a little to let Ava know it’s okay to keep looking, to keep checking.
And she does, eyes tracking the movement of Bea’s chest and the twitch of her toes where they’re pressed under her knee, a flash of soft blue wool.
“Jacob. His name was Jacob. He was…” The shift in her expression as she searches for the words she needs brings her lips to a pout, but her tone isn’t sad or angry when she finds what she’s looking for. “I wanted very badly to be like him, when I was small. He laughed a lot, and he was very smart but he didn’t…he didn’t use it to make me feel small. He was silly with me, in a very intentional way. Always sought me out and asked me questions and told me jokes that…well, you would have liked them.” Ava sticks her tongue out at her and Bea looks a little proud and a lot fond. “Exactly. I didn’t know what to do with that, but I liked it.” She pulls at the silver chain around her neck, the ghost of a prayer. “He died when I was eight. A car accident. I think…looking back on his funeral and the people who were there, I think maybe he was…like me.” Her jaw clenches, determined, and Ava loves her as she says, voice firm, “Gay. I think he was gay.”
Ava moves a hand to the small of Bea’s back, and Bea puts a hand on her knee, skin warm through the fabric of Ava’s leggings.
“It…as far as I know it was a surprise to my father. Uncle Jacob always brought dates to the big Christmas party and to all of the family events, beautiful women that were funny like he was and talked to me like they cared what I had to say but also like I was still a child, like I was only expected to be a child. One of them snuck me extra cake when my mother wasn’t looking, but when she winked at me, suddenly I couldn’t eat anything else.”
She’s blushing a little, and Ava presses her lips to the cotton covering her shoulder, smiling into it.
“Uh-huh.”
The blush deepens, and Ava smothers the rest of her grin against Bea, grasping and squeezing at her forearm to encourage her to keep talking.
She does, smile dimming a little as she says, “They were there at the service, those women, but so were a lot of other people I’d never seen before, all in a big group together.” Her fingers move against the fabric of her sweats, tug at her black tee, the twin to the one discarded a few minutes ago. “They were in the back of the line to greet us, at the wake, and my father was so…” Fingers run with agitation through already mussed hair. “He was so rude to them, Ava. Gritting his teeth and saying nothing when they offered condolences and shaking hands hard enough that he made people wince. I went to the bathroom and heard two of them talking about how it wasn’t any wonder ‘Jay’ lived like he did. I’d never heard anyone call him Jay before, and I didn’t know what they meant, but I knew better than to ask my parents.”
She swallows and Ava covers the hand on her knee with her own, quiet because she’s not sure if Bea is finished and she is trying her very best these days to give Bea the same space that Bea gives her to say what she wants to say. Even if it makes Ava squirm with the desire to comfort, to fill the silence.
“We left the wake as soon as we could without it being socially unacceptable to the people my parents cared about. My father was so angry on the ride home that my mom was afraid to talk to him, and…” The shaky breath makes Ava so fiercely protective that the halo starts humming under her skin. “After he pulled me into the car, I made myself as small as I could. He went into his study and slammed the door when we got home. They never talked about Uncle Jacob again. It was like he died twice.”
“Bea.” Her hand moves to rest between shoulder blades, presses in in comfort. “I’m so sorry.”
Beatrice smiles at her in the mirror before breaking their connection to turn and kiss her. The angle is a little awkward, their bodies having twisted over the course of the conversation, so she moves to fix it, adjusting so her knees are pressed to Bea’s thigh and making her hands at home on the sides of her neck. When Beatrice pulls back, she backs herself against the headboard and lifts an arm, and Ava’s chest is tight with affection as she moves into the space and settles, hand gripping the front of Bea’s shirt a little possessively. They’ve had this now for months, this bed and this apartment and this time together without world-ending bullshit, but she’s still not used to the luxury of it, of open, unapologetic affection, of Bea’s heartbeat steady under her ear, of time stretching out instead of bearing down.
“It surprised me, when I looked into the mirror and saw him.” Her voice is quieter like this, and Ava feels her words as she says them, cheek pressed against her chest. “In a good way.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” Fingers run through her hair and Ava lets her eyes close. “I wish I could have known him. I wish he could have known me.”
Ava nods against her. “Me too. He sounds way better than the rest of your family, not that that’s a high bar.” The words slip out thoughtlessly but she doesn’t want to retract them. They’re past pretending Ava wouldn’t halo blast Bea’s parents into the nearest body of water on sight and mostly past Bea feeling guilty for wanting her to. “I’m sorry you didn’t have him for longer.”
“Mmm.” It’s a little absent. A beat. “I used to be a nun.”
Ava opens her eyes at that, pushes up a little to raise an eyebrow at Beatrice.
“Oh yeah? I didn’t know.”
Beatrice pokes her in the ribs and she giggles as she settles back down.
“Yes, thank you.” Her voice softens, quiets. “I understand him. Or I think I do. Why Uncle Jay lived the way that he did.”
Ava splays her hand across Bea’s ribs.
“You used to be a nun.”
“Yes.” Lips touch her hairline. “I am glad that I’m not anymore.”
Ava presses her own lips against the body underneath her. “Me too.” She traces a pattern on Bea’s ribs. “I think he would be proud of you. Of who you are. Of how brave you are.”
Her body moves with Beatrice’s exhale. “I think he would have liked you.”
Ava pulls her chin up to rest against Bea’s sternum and grins her best roguish grin. “Well, I’m very charming.”
Her stomach swoops at the look Bea gives her, adoration undisguised and voice earnest. “Yes. You are. You’re wonderful.”
The kiss is short but sure, leaving Ava a little breathless. Affection thrums in her veins, and she pulls and pushes at Bea’s body until they’re reversed, Bea’s head pillowed on her chest and Ava’s fingers running through short hair, scratching at the nape of her neck. She runs her fingers under the silver chain and turns her head to watch their reflection. Bea’s eyes are closed, her breath slowing, and Ava takes the opportunity to look at her, sees for a moment Sister Beatrice as she was when Ava met her, ashamed and hiding so much of herself, desperately trying to be what everyone wanted and needed her to be.
Her heart breaks a little, for little Beatrice who became Sister Beatrice and for a man she never met. She blinks away the specters in the mirror and sees Bea again, soft and sleepy and brave, and presses a kiss of gratitude to her head.
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lil-melody-moon ¡ 8 months
Text
Keith Richards to Mick Jagger be like
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sunny44 ¡ 8 months
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Would you?
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Wife!reader
Warnings: mentions of going to make sex
Summary: Lewis asks his wife if she would still love him if he didn't have a British accent.
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I know how much my wife loves my English accent because she told me several times how sexy she thinks it is and that it's certainly one of the things she finds most attractive about me and that's why I decided to record a video asking her something since fans complain that there isn't as much content with the "best Hamilton" according to them.
“Hey honey I have a question for you.” I said when she exit the bathroom.
“Yes?”
“Would you still love me if I didn’t have a British accent?” I’ve asked and she stated giggling.
“Of course I would.” She smiled. “Just a tiny bit less.”
“I knew it.” I’ve said and we laugh. “You are naughty.”
“I just love it so much but I would still love you.”
“And you'd still marry me?"
“I don’t know.” She pretends to think and then laughs as she walks over to me, putting her arms around my shoulders. “Of course I would, I didn’t marry you because of the British accent. Even though it was one of the things that I found most attractive about you.
“Yeah I can see that.” She laughs. “What else attracts you?”
“Your voice, the Tattoo’s, the braids, your body, the way you are such a gentleman and a lot more things.”
“Yeah?” She agreed. “Well in that case I think I can show you all these things in our bedroom.”
“I think that’s a great ideia.” She say’s and I threw my phone on the sofa and picked her up and practically ran with her to our room.
I threw her on the bed and climbed on top of her, who was looking at me anxiously.
“God I love you so much.” I’ve said while kissing her neck.
“How about you show me how much you love me?”
“Your wish is my command.”
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Bonus scene!
Y/nhamilton instagram post
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Liked by @pierregasly, @lewishamilton, @mercedesamg and others 292710
Y/nhamilton But god I love the English
Tagged: @lewishamilton
Lewishamilton yeah and I know how much
Liked by y/nhamilton
LewisHamilton love you too babe
Y/nhamilton 💜💜
User44 we love a good Taylor Swift reference
User01 we needed more Lewis and y/n content
Lewishamilton wait until I post the video of me asking her if she would still love me if I didn’t have a English accent
User01 holy shit he answered me
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shoccolatine ¡ 2 months
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Do you feel comfortable with writing stuff about mental health issues. Like, MC being depressed due to a mission going wrong or something similar and hiding it from Zayne while they spiral deeper into it until he catches them doing something bad - like idk, self-harm, looking up suicide methods, something like that. Gender neutral reader would be great <3
If you don't want to write this for any reason, feel free to ignore my ask :)
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mission failure.
⚘pairing: zayne x gn!reader
⚘summary: after one too many failed missions, you reach a breaking point. zayne comes to your aid. ⚘tags: sfw, 2nd person POV, gender neutral reader, mental health issues, self-esteem issues, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-descriptive/implied self-harm, mild descriptions of morbid thoughts, hurt/comfort, angst ⚘word count: 2k ⚘a/n: thank you so much for your request, i hope i did it justice! this was a very interesting write and i enjoyed it a lot. i tried to be as delicate and vague with the s/h descriptions as i could so as not to trigger anyone, but this fic still deals with sensitive content so please be safe and take care of yourself! much love 💜
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
This was it. You just couldn’t do anything right.
Another hunting mission had gone poorly. The third in a row, now. They do say all good things come in threes, but could the same be said of misfortune? It certainly seemed so. The first two mission failures had been played off as flukes, but this time…
You made the long trek back to Headquarters with the weight of a tail dragging between your legs, bearing a few cuts and bruises to show for it. Beside you was Tara, who was not quite so worse for wear and, although disappointed, didn’t quite seem to share the same sentiment as you. After all, she hadn’t been the one to let the Wanderer get away. Again.
“Hey, don’t look so down!” she says, in her usual cheerful tone. She pats your arm in an attempt to be comforting. “Can’t win ‘em all, right?”
You give her a look and a frown. “I mean, we should, shouldn’t we? It’s our job, after all.”
“No way! Those Wanderers were tough! I’m amazed we got as far into the Zone as we did!”
But we lost our main target, you thought, yet you held your tongue. There was no changing Tara’s mind once she was set on something. This mission was above her level, anyway, but with every other Hunter either stationed elsewhere or taking a well-deserved break, and Xavier being unreachable as usual, all you had was each other. It had been up to you, as the higher level Hunter, to uphold the team morale and guide you both through a successful mission. But lately, you just kept falling short. Even the most straightforward of missions went awry. Just what was happening?
The entrance doors slid closed behind you as you and Tara headed upstairs for the debrief. Your heart pounded with every step you took. Three failures in a row… Jenna was going to fire you for sure. She might as well do it now, to make space for a newer, better Hunter to take your place and finish your missions properly.
Instead, what came of your debrief was the offering of a week-long break. "Time off to clear your head and refresh," Jenna had said with hard concern, but it might as well have been an arrow to the chest. Just fire me now and get it over with, you thought. Stop wasting everyone’s time and resources and find someone else.
You didn’t need a break. You just needed to be better.
Getting better, however, came with a steep demand you placed upon yourself like a vase upon a pedestal, delicate and teetering. If Jenna wanted to give you another chance, then you would use this week to return to peak performance. You would train, and train, and train, until you were sure to succeed at every mission she threw at you. It was flawless. You’d be back at it in no time.
But as soon as you got off the train and back into your apartment, all you wanted to do was sleep. 
And sleep you did. You slept until you couldn’t think of those missions anymore, and when the thoughts inevitably returned, you slept again.
“You’re not eating enough,” Zayne said during your following check-up later that week. He stated it so matter-of-factly, like he did with any other diagnosis, never looking up from his computer as he typed something. You never knew exactly what. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a break right now?”
“How do you know that?”
“Word gets around,” he said, the beginnings of a smile etched on his face. You didn't like the idea of people knowing things like that so easily. People sure do like to talk... Zayne's hazel eyes lifted from the screen and over at you. “You need to take better care of yourself. Now is as good a time as any to catch up on your body’s needs.”
“I’m fine,” you snapped. Sometimes Zayne needed to mind his own business. Wait, but he was your doctor, and one of your closest friends… What was the matter with you? You really needed to go back to bed and stop being such a nuisance. 
Maybe it’d be better if you got out of his life, too.
You met his questioning expression and the heat of your response drained out of your face. At that, you decided you didn’t want to wait for a reply. Whatever he wanted to say to you with that curious expression of his, you didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t deserve to hear it. You quickly left his office and never looked back. If he called your name as the door to his office slid closed behind you, it went unheard.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
5 missed calls.
Your phone screen blares the message in your face, blinding against the darkness of your room and blurry against the tears that threatened to fall, that had already fallen, that fell and dried and fell again. Your fingers itch to reply, to call him back or send him a text, but what’s the point? He doesn’t really care. He’s probably just going to scold you for leaving your appointment halfway and being childish and not following doctor’s orders and being rude to him.
Not only have you messed up your job, you’re messing up your relationships now, too. When will you ever stop? Can’t it ever stop?
Your phone buzzes and lights up in your fingers as your ringtone sings into your sheets once more. It’s him again. Doesn’t he know when to quit? You watch his name as it waits idly on your screen. It gets tired of waiting, as it always does, and finally disappears. You sigh as another hot tear slips down your cheek.
Something new happens this time.
1 new voicemail, your phone screen reads. You start to slide the notification away, but against your better judgment, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you give in, tap the notification, and listen. 
The line is silent for a moment, and part of you hopes he gave up and left you nothing.
Finally, after what sounds like a throat clearing, he speaks.
“Hey, it’s me,” Zayne’s voice comes through the speaker. It’s got that usual muffled crackly phonecall texture laid onto it, but it sounds enough like him that it feels like he’s right there with you, underneath the blankets. “Are you alright? …Listen. Whatever it was I said, I didn’t mean it. You know that. I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner, but you left so suddenly. Call me when you’re able?”
The silence creeps in again, and you can almost hear him consider saying something more, can almost see his expression as his thoughts thunder in his brain but refuse to leave his lips, but then there’s a click, and the call ends. The robotic voicemail message drones monotonously about saving the message, and halfway through, you hang up, too.
The back of your throat clenches and burns, and you barely fight back a sob as it wrenches itself out of you. Zayne was worried about you. You made him worry. You thought he was mad, you wanted him to be mad, but he’s not. He cares about you. Why…?
You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, as if you could push back the sting of tears that rush, hot and salty, from your bloodshot eyes. It hurts, and you start to see flashes of bright white stars under your eyelids, but it’s better than succumbing to the pain in your chest. Your heart shares a galaxy with the stars in your vision, a dying star that’s fizzling out, or maybe even being consumed by the void of a black hole. How morbidly comforting. You suddenly want to rip it out.
You wonder, just how difficult would it be to separate the Aether Core from your still-beating flesh…?
You try to shake the thoughts from your mind but they hold fast. Throwing the blankets off of your body, you leave your room hobbling like a zombie, make a beeline for the kitchen, and pull open a drawer.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It’s late at night when there’s a knock at your door. A slight rap of the knuckles. A sharp one, two. Once, then twice, and on the third knock there’s another sound, too. A rattling jingle. And it’s times like these when you curse yourself for giving Zayne the extra key to your apartment.
He calls out your name as he steps in. You barely hear him. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s far away, or speaking quietly, or if you’re just that far gone into your own thoughts that everything else around you is muted.
He might have called only once, or a dozen times, by the time he reaches your room and spots your hunched figure on your bed. He says your name again, and this time you do hear him. 
You meet his gaze, steeled with concern, and immediately regret it. 
He sees you, really sees you, and all at once your façade crumbles once more. He approaches the edge of your bed, and you turn your eyes anywhere but at him as you brace yourself for impact.
“What are you doing?” he asks, but he already knows the answer.
Zayne grabs your wrist. Yet, his touch is gentle—firm enough to grip you, but soft enough that you could pull away if you wanted. You don't. You’re far too tired to fight anymore. You continue to stare at the floor with teary eyes, but there is resignation hanging heavy on your shoulders, like a wet blanket. Zayne takes your silent compliance as an okay to pull you along with him down the hallway of your dimly lit apartment and into the bathroom.
He sits you down on the toilet. The light clack of the lid hitting the porcelain beneath from your sudden weight seemed to jolt you awake a bit; your eyes refocus and follow his movements as he shuffles through the medicine cabinet. He pulls out a few things and then returns to tend to his patient.
"Hand. Here," he says as he holds out his own. You offer yours, and he meets you halfway. He always does. He’s as meticulous and calm as always as he cleans, disinfects, and wraps your wounds, ever the doctor, but there’s a certain softness in his motions that you’re sure he reserves for only his most cherished patients. 
Only for you.
The thought rolls a warm wave over you, the once wet blanket that had been dragging you down now fresh out of the laundry and wrapped carefully around you, cozy and hot and certain. There’s still a bit of damp spots here and there, but those will also dry in time. And you know Zayne will still be here when that time comes.
Your thoughts are broken when long fingers drag against your cheek, wiping away yet more damp spots and fanning through your shining lashes.
“You need to take better care of yourself,” Zayne says, repeating his words from earlier that day. Was that really only today? This day was lasting a lifetime. As with before, his tone holds no ice. You regret snapping at him when he was only trying to help. He must feel your tension, because he puffs a breath out through his nose just then, and the warm air tickles the hairs on your forehead. He places a kiss there, the barest brush of his lips on your skin. He pushes your hair back with long warm fingers, tucking a strand behind your ear. “If you need help with that, I’m here. Always. You need only ask.”
Later still and he’s tucking you into bed and giving your forehead another gentle kiss, making you feel like a kid again. He’s surprisingly good at that. You don't know how he does it.
Zayne follows you under the covers, and leaves you an open invitation to snuggle against him, if you wish. You gratefully accept, tucking your head under his chin as he envelops you. He’s very careful not to apply pressure to your bandaged skin. 
Right before you fall asleep, he whispers a promise of breakfast tomorrow, and dinner, and whatever else comes next. A promise of staying, no matter what.
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eetherealgoddess ¡ 3 months
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hey bestie. requesting a yandere rindou haitanj scenario where reader (cis fem) is currently dating Ran, but rindou is obsessed with her and wants her for himself. a noncon smut where ran leaves reader at home for some reason and rindou takes the opportunity to do the noncon smut and ran ends up catching them, but instead of getting mad, ran just joins them. 💜🖤
Of course!! Hope you like it ♡︎♡︎♡︎
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ꨄBrothers Conflictꨄ
Oneshot - Yandere Haitani Brothers Au
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Not fully proofread
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Brothers Conflict
Being a Haitani’s girlfriend comes with its perks. Not only is Ran an attentive boyfriend, he loves to spoil his girl with all the finer things. Jewelry, makeup, clothes, nails, you name it, it’s done. It was a done deal as soon as he set his eyes on you. It was interesting considering you were the pursuer at first, having a small crush that grew into something more. Finally, ignoring all of your anxiety you confessed, only to find out that he had the same feelings.
Considering it’s hard to read his emotions, you had no idea that he had been thinking about you as much as you thought about him. It was a wholesome moment when he accepted your confession and surprised you with his own gift the next day to properly ask you to be his official girlfriend. It almost felt too good to be true.
After the first hang out, you met his brother Rin. Unfortunately, the awkward meeting resulted in his subtle insults at the dinner table along with the scowl plastered on his face. Worried that you had crossed a boundary of some sort, Ran reassured you that he acted that way with all his girlfriends and explained that he was just being a protective younger brother.
Brushing it off, you let go of your anxious thoughts and continued on as a normal girlfriend. A few months pass and the tension flees, though you still catch Rin’s intense glare boring into you whenever you and Ran relax at their apartment. You refrained from bringing it up, not wanting to cause any problems between the two brothers.
One day, you had been watching tv as you stroked your boyfriend's hair, his head resting on your lap as he breathed steadily, indicating a deep slumber. After a while, he wakes up and slowly pushes himself off of your lap. You eye him in confusion.
“There’s something I forgot to do. I’ll be back later, babe.” He says before giving you a peck to your forehead and hopping off the sofa. He checks for his wallet in his pocket and opens the door to leave. Once the door shuts behind him, you grab your phone and pull up an app, bored out of your mind as you scroll mindlessly.
“Don’t you have your own home or something?” A voice speaks from the side of the couch. You almost jump out of your skin, you have forgotten that your boyfriend’s younger brother was home.
“Ran invited me over.” You shrug, already used to the subtle jabs to the point that they don’t really affect you as bad. He ignores you as he grabs a glass of water before walking into the living room and sitting next to you, crossing a leg. Your eyebrows furrow at his choice of seating.
“What do you see in my brother, Y/n?”
You pause for a moment, not really expecting a question like that out of nowhere. He takes a sip of the liquid as he readjusts his glasses.
“W-well, I don’t really know how to explain it other than the fact that I would take a bullet for him. I like that I can be myself around him.” You shrug. Honestly, your feelings couldn’t be explained though you know for a fact you’re smitten over the older Haitani. You had been for years prior. The excitement you felt when he accepted your confession was unlike any other happy moment you’ve had. You feel safe when you’re around him, whether to be yourself completely or physically, knowing he’s protective. Of course, this is hard to explain when you’re called out on the spot.
“What a lame answer. Are you sure you deserve my brother?” You make eye contact with him.
“Maybe not.” You sigh, “but I do love him if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not going to try and hurt him or anything.”
It’s a funny thing, really. You think he’s asking as a protective younger brother. Such a naive girl, though that’s something he noticed in you from the beginning. The little love letters and gifts he opened whenever he found them in his brother’s trash. The excitement he saw on your face from a distance when Ran accepted your confession, not willingly on his own but by his younger brother’s bargaining. The hue that formed on your face when you read the notes from ‘Ran,’ not realizing who they were actually written by.
The plan was easy, really. Ran asks you out so his younger brother can get closer to you. What wasn’t part of the plan was Ran falling for you mid relationship. It just wasn’t fair. He never noticed you until Rin noticed you. Of course, they argued about it. Argued over you. It was interesting how much conflict you were bringing to the brothers without even knowing it. Yes, such a naive thing.
You eye him curiously, wondering why he hadn’t answered you. After a moment of Rin lost in his thoughts, he sets the cup down and stands up. Turning towards you, he bends over and snatches you from the sofa, placing you over his shoulder as he walks to the hall of the apartment.
“Hey! What are you doing?” You exclaim as you hit his back repeatedly. Once he reached his bedroom, he shut the door before tossing you on the bed.
“Rin?”
He climbs on top of you, pinning you to the bed.
“Why? Why do you love him so fucking much?” Your eyebrows furrow as you gaze at him with confusion. You wince as his grip tightens.
“What about me? I’m the one who tried so hard to get you! I’m the one who did everything!”
“Rin, I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You try to reason with him, anxious out of your mind.
“The notes, the letters, all of it! It was all me.” He hissed, nails digging into your skin. “It was all a plan!”
“What? N-no.” You say in denial. You were so happy when Ran finally decided to give you attention within your relationship considering the beginning of it was a little confusing. You take a moment to think back to those detailed notes that stated things only Ran should know. Was it really all a ploy?
The younger Haitani smirks. “Yes, your precious boyfriend lied to you. Multiple times. He didn’t even have feelings for you until recently.” Tears threaten to fall as a familiar lump forms in your throat.
“N-no. Please, stop saying those things.” You hold back from crying, no longer in denial though not wanting to continue to hear anymore of what was coming out of his mouth.
“I’m tired of waiting for you to wake up, Y/n. It’s time you give back to me.” He states, removing his glasses and setting them down. You take the opportunity to use your free hand to slap him.
“Get off of me!” You shout angrily, tears finally spilling. You just want to leave and sulk by yourself. Rotting in your bed as you send Ran a break up text.
Instead of pinning the arm down, he ignores your outburst by grabbing your neck and lowering his face.
“If you bite me, I will fuck you up.” He promised with a deranged glint in his eyes. You could only stare in horror as he brought his lips to yours. He moves his lips along you hungrily before piercing his tongue through, saliva sliding out of your mouth as you don’t respond.
Using your free hand, you attempt to shove him by the shoulder though it doesn’t work. When he pulls back, he stops for a moment to wipe his mouth and gaze at your eyes. Before you could stop him, his face nuzzled between your shoulder and neck, piling kisses slowly up your skin as you grip his shoulder.
“Rin, don’t do this.” You cry, ignored as he uses both of his hands to tear your shirt. You gasp as the cold air hits your skin, the shirt torn apart, revealing your bare breasts considering you didn’t wear a bra today. His hands grab your mounds, gently squeezing as he releases a quiet moan.
“I was angry the first time I saw you and my brother have sex.” He lowers his head as he sucks one of the nipples, flicking his tongue before closing his lips around the nub once more. A heartbeat forms from your clit as you slightly arch your back from the chill that runs up your spine.
“Rin, please stop.” Your voice cracked, still hurt from the words before though frustrated with the reaction your body is emitting. He makes eye contact with heavy lids.
“But then, I couldn’t help but watch. Your intoxicating moans drew me in, Y/n.” His husky voice vibrated against your nipple, his lips barely touching the nub as he speaks, breath causing your nipple to harden.
“Such a slutty girl. Legs wide open for my brother, begging for more.” He returns to sucking, along with one of his hands easing down to your pants, unhooking them before sliding into your panties.
“Rin.” You whisper. “Just wait, please. W-we can talk about this.” You bite your lip when you feel his finger push against your clit. He slowly rolls his finger against the nub, eyeing you as he continues to lick your nipple. His other hand fondles the other breast, pulling and rubbing circles on your nipple. Your hands held his shoulders, pushing him once more, to no avail.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about your face and how it looked when he was eating you out. The way you rubbed your pussy against his face. I came so hard thinking about you, baby.” He whispers the last sentence.
Your fingers tighten against his shirt as he accelerates his finger against your pussy. Your hips twitch as your head falls back. You felt the juice fall out of your pussy as he gave another lick to your nipple.
Suddenly, he pulls his hand out and sits up. He moves off of you and swiftly pulls your pants off. You try sitting up only to be pushed down before he tears your panties off.
“Rin! This is wrong!”
He ignores you as he opens your legs, fitting himself in between as he holds your thighs down. He doesn’t give you a chance before his lips circle around your clit. Your hips jolt up as you grab his head as an attempt to push him away. His grip only tightens around your thighs, squeezing his arms around painfully as well as using his nails to leave indents, eyeing you from below. You yelp in pain as you fall back, the pleasure of his tongue flicking your nub conflicting with your emotions.
“Well, brother. This was quicker than I thought.” A voice comes from the doorway. You look up surprised to see your boyfriend.
“Ran, i-it’s not what it looks like! I swear!” You cry out.
“It’s okay, baby. I know.” He sighs as he sits behind you, positioning himself to lean against the headboard as your back leans against him.
“I know I have some explaining to do. We can talk about it later, alright? Just relax.” He circles his arms around your waist, his hands moving to hold your breasts as he leaves a trail of kisses on your shoulder.
Rin uses his fingers to gather your slick before pressing two of them inside of you, angling it to hit your g-spot steadily as he continues sucking and licking your clit. You couldn’t help but thrust your hips to force his fingers deeper, releasing a moan before heavily breathing as the overwhelming sensation takes over your body. Your eyes fall into the back of your head as you lay against Ran.
“I just want you to know that I love you so much, even if our relationship didn’t start off as ideal.” Ran softly speaks against your ear while pinching and fondling your nipples.
“W-why did you, ah… lie to… fuck! Lie to me?”
“Oh God!” You exclaim as Rin continues to bring you closer to the edge, accelerating once more as the sounds of your wet pussy fills the room. You feel Ran’s hardened cock against your back.
“I said we’ll talk about it later.” He uses one hand to pull your chin back, landing a passionate kiss on your lips as your body moves against him, grinding your hips against Rin’s face as he adds another finger.
“I-I’m gonna…ah!” You moan as you finally release, Rin lapping up all your juices as your body convulses.
When Rin moves from your legs, he removes his pants as Ran gently shifts you on your knees. You breathe heavily as your legs tremble from your orgasm. Rin guides you on top of himself as you weakly rest your head on his shoulder.
“W-wait! What about a condom?” You say against his neck.
“It’ll be a Haitani either way.” Ran states as he removes his own pants.
Before you could respond, Rin pulls you down as he shoves his cock all the way in. Both of you groan as the feeling of your pussy is stretched and wrapped tightly around his girth. His arms wrap around your back as he holds it there. You feel Ran spread your cheeks before he uses your leaking cream and his own saliva to rub against his cock. He eased the head in, a pain shooting through your back as you whimpered against Rin’s neck.
“I’m gonna fuck this pussy so good.” Rin breathes out before pulling back and rocking his hips forward. Ran shoves himself all the way in as he grips your ass, pulling himself back before slamming in.
They both rock their hips, gradually accelerating as all of your moans and heavy breathing filled the air. The pain mixes in with the pleasure before it engulfs you fully, your mouth held open as your body rocks in between them. Your hands hold onto Rin’s shoulders tightly as you’re plowed from both holes.
“So good. Such a good fucking girl.” The blonde says as he picks up the pace. His head falls back as your sweat mixes with his. “I waited so long, Y/n. You have no idea… fuck! How many… ah! Times I’ve cum to you.”
In a twisted way, the words he spills out of his mouth causes another aching throb to hit your pussy, clenching around him as you both make eye contact.
Ran accelerates his speed, turned on by the display of you getting double penetrated by both of them. He smiles as the scenarios fly through his mind of you naked and waiting for them to come home. Another twitch of his cock forms from the ideas.
After a few minutes of his cock making contact with your g-spot and your boyfriend’s cock filling your ass, you squeeze your eyes shut as you subconsciously bite into Rin’s shoulder, orgasming. Your bite causes him to groan out before pressing himself deep inside you and releasing his load. Ran follows not long after, his cum leaking out of your ass as he pushes against you. Breathing heavily, Ran removes himself from you, pulling you into his arms as well as Rin hugging you from behind.
When you caught your breath, you attempted to sit up from your position, anger lingering from the truth spoken earlier.
“We need to talk.” You say to both of them who only ignore you as they hold you in place, dozing off into a deep slumber as you follow not long after.
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207 notes ¡ View notes
dntaewithluv ¡ 2 years
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Private Lesson | myg
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Your little sister finds it odd how you've been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn't heard you actually play even once...
🎹 Pairing: pianoteacher/pianist!yoongi x reader
🎹 Word Count: 5.5k
🎹 Rating: 18+
🎹 Genre: Friends with benefits to lovers, piano teacher/pianist au, smut, fluff, minor drama/angst
🎹 Warnings: Y/N is lying to her younger sister, explicit language, we love secretly hooking up with our sister's hot piano teacher 🤩, making out, biting/marking, Yoongi has some dom tendencies, groping, there's an actual piano lesson and it's wholesome until it's not™️, Yoongi plays his sabotage card 😈, explicit sexual content, lots of teasing/taunting, rubbing, fingering, multiple orgasms, cum eating/feeding, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, scratching, brief handjob, unprotected sex (pls be safe), sex on top of Yoongi's first love (the piano 👀), it's fluffy and wholesome at the end, Y/N lets Yoongi keep her underwear, really the only drama/angst is because they're hooking up in secret oof
A/N: Funny how I forget this man owns me until I see him again and then it's painfully clear 🥹 This was inspired by and spiraled into this™️ after the YTC concert this weekend. It felt really good to be inspired and motivated to write something again, so I really hope you enjoy this if you decide to check it out 🥰 Thank you as always for your patience and kindness and support I purple you always 💜
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“Okay, Faith, I’m heading out.” you called out as you made your way towards the front door, “Should be back in an hour or so.”
Your fifteen-year-old sister, seated at the kitchen table, looked up from her phone, “You know, I really just don’t understand why you don’t just sign up for one of his classes. I know he offers them specifically for adults. It’d probably be way cheaper than whatever you’re paying for all these private lessons.”
You laughed at her remark, trying your best not to let your nerves show.
“I told you, I don’t feel comfortable playing in front of other people. Too much pressure, and too many pairs of eyes on you. Having one person there makes me nervous enough.”
Your little sister stared back at you, seeming to search your face for some answer to whatever she was looking for.
“Yeah, but, Y/N, you won’t even play in front of me. And I’m your sister. You’d think after six weeks worth of lessons, you’d at least be able to do that. Wouldn’t it be cool for us to be able to play something together sometime?”
You felt a twinge of guilt pierce you at her words and the look on her face. You nervously chewed on your bottom lip as you wracked your brain for a response that would satisfy her.
“Tell you what, Faith. I’ll ask Yoo-I mean Mr. Min to teach me one of the pieces you guys are working on in class, and we’ll try to play together soon. Sound good?” you proposed, hoping it would suffice for now.
Faith’s expression shifted, and you were grateful to see that she didn’t look nearly as upset.
“Yeah, okay, sounds good. Have a good lesson.” she said with a small smile before turning back to her phone.
You waited to let out your sigh of relief until you were on the other side of the door. Well that had been fucking close.
Your anxiety only grew more heightened as you pulled up to the familiar condo. No longer feelings of guilt, but of excitement and anticipation. You felt yourself walk a little too fast up to the door, finger immediately reaching out to push the doorbell. You held your breath as you always did when the door was being swung open. And then there he was.
It was truly unfair how hot he looked today and every time you saw him. He had a plain white tee tucked into a pair of high waisted black pants, a single silver chain hanging from his neck. His long, dark, gorgeous locks cascaded down either side of his handsome face. Every single part of you was buzzing.
“And here I was starting to think that maybe you were going to stand me up for our lesson.” he greeted you, eyes giving you a very obvious once over.
Heat washed over you.
“You know I would never.” you voiced, a hint of playfulness in your tone, “I need the practice, and you and I both know it.”
An amused smirk took over his features, “You know I’m always more than happy to oblige a student in need. Please, come in, and we can get started.”
You sauntered past him and into the condo, feeling his gaze on you all the while. No sooner had he closed the door behind you, than you were being pushed up against it, Yoongi hastily crashing his lips against your own. You matched his urgency as your mouths moved together, and your hands slid up into his midnight strands.
He was always more worked up, more rough, anytime you were late. Anytime you had kept him waiting. Today was no exception as he practically swallowed you, his fingers surely making imprints across the skin of your hips from how hard he was pushing you against the door.
His teeth nipped harshly at your lips as his tongue tangled messily with yours. That wild look you had come to know all too well over the past six weeks was present in his dark eyes when he suddenly pulled back from you.
“Well, shit.” you rasped, laughing slightly, “I missed you too.”
Yoongi’s response was to begin hungrily kissing down your neck, and you sighed out as you held him against you.
“You were all I could think about all fucking day.” he murmured as his lips seared against your skin.
“Mmm, you might’ve crossed my mind a time or two.” you teased back, and Yoongi growled against your neck before sinking his teeth into you.
You cried out, your head falling back against the door. He pushed one of his legs between yours and pressed his thigh against you, making you let out a whimper as his tongue simultaneously soothed the spot on your neck. His leg pressed harder and you gasped sharply, “You really wanna be a brat today? After you were already late? Think carefully about your decision, darling.”
It probably wouldn’t be the best idea to be honest. And you knew you would struggle to come up with a reason to explain to Faith why you couldn’t walk the next day…
“No…no. I’ll be good, Yoongi.”
He kissed you just behind your ear, hot breath hitting your skin, “Smart girl. Looks like I’ve been teaching you something these last several weeks after all.”
He immediately went back to sucking color into your neck as his fingers slipped beneath your sun dress and began trailing up the inside of your thigh. His other hand roughly pulled down the strap of your dress to expose your shoulder and some of your chest. Your mind was starting to go fuzzy. The way it always did when you were with Yoongi. But the mention of his teaching reminded you of your promise to Faith.
“Yoongi.” you tried, but it came out as a moan from the way his teeth scraped against your collarbone.
His free hand groped at your breast over your clothes while his fingers started to dip between your thighs. It wouldn’t be long before you would be lost in your pleasure. Lost in him.
“Yoongi, wait.”
You’d actually managed to find your voice this time, and Yoongi was immediately pulling back to look at you as his hand retreated out from underneath your dress.
“Darling, what is it?” he queried, concern briefly flashing across his handsome features.
“It’s just…it’s my sister.”
Yoongi’s eyes went wide, “Wait, does Faith know about us?”
“No, no.” you reassured him quickly, “At least I don’t think she does. But, she is starting to wonder why after six weeks of lessons that she hasn’t heard me play. Like, at all.”
You watched as Yoongi processed this information, and marveled at how cute his thinking face was. You desperately wanted to be kissing him again, but it would have to wait for now.
“So, what you’re saying is, that you think our weekly “piano lessons” should actually be used for piano lessons?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
“I mean, we can definitely still have sex. But I do think I should at least start becoming more familiar with the piano if we wanna keep this under wraps like we have been.” you explained further, looping your arms around Yoongi’s neck as you talked.
His hands came to rest on your hips once again, “You know, darling, I think I have the perfect solution.”
This time you lifted your eyebrows at him. You knew he was fucking with you, but you still decided to ask anyway.
“Oh, and what solution is that?”
Yoongi gripped you harder, making your dress bunch up slightly in his hold.
“I could fuck you on my piano. That would definitely help you become more familiar with it.” he mused, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
You rubbed your thighs together before you could stop yourself, and Yoongi, of course, noticed immediately. You quickly tried to defuse the rapidly mounting tension.
“Yoon, I’m serious about this. It’s really important to my sister, and at least this way what I’m telling her won’t be a complete lie. Just teach me some of the basics so I have something to show from all these “lessons”. Pleeeeeeease Yoonie.” you pleaded sweetly, and the piano teacher revealed his gums when he smiled at you.
“Alright, alright. You’re right, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea. And if anyone’s gonna teach you, it should be me.” he relented before taking both of your hands and leading you over to one of the many pianos he had in his luxurious condo.
This particular one was displayed right by his wall of glass windows. Sunlight filtered through the panes and fell on the inviting instrument. Yoongi gestured for you to take a seat on the bench, and you let out a slightly nervous giggle before sitting down. You only missed his warmth for a second before he was right next to you, hip bumping against yours.
His fingers hovered over the keys with such a natural grace, and all you could do was stare at him in awe for a moment. He belonged here. That was clear as day. He positioned his foot on the pedal below, closed his eyes, and began to play. The notes were soft and delicate, as was his touch against the keys.
He looked so beautiful like this, and you felt your breath catch in your chest. It was as if he and the instrument were one and the same, sharing the same soul. He was lost in it, and the music was lost in him. Out of everything you and Yoongi had done since the two of you had started hooking up, this, this, felt the most intimate.
You were overcome with the sudden realization that you were starting to fall in love with him, and nothing had ever scared you more in your entire life. Yoongi’s eyes suddenly fluttered open, and you weren’t prepared for the calm intensity in them when he turned to you. Without taking his hands off the keys, he leaned over and gently brought his lips to yours.
You felt yourself flush furiously because this was a different kind of kiss. Not the kind that had heat surging through you and craving more, more, more. The kind that made your heart stutter in your chest and sent every part of you fluttering. A kiss that made you think that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to fall for you too.
The two of you broke apart, but the closeness remained.
“I don’t know if I ever told you,” Yoongi began softly, warm breath hitting your lips, “but the piano was actually my first love.”
He grew shy suddenly, cheeks heating at the admission as his hands froze over the keys. He had really shown you something so precious. Something that was at the very core of who he was. All you could think about was how honored and lucky you felt that he had chosen to share it with you.
You smiled warmly at him, “Well, then, I’m honored to meet her. Thank you for sharing this with me. You really play so beautifully.”
He blushed deeper, and his gums poked out when he grinned bashfully back at you. The moment felt as delicate as the notes he’d just been pulling from the piano. You found yourself wanting to stay in it for as long as possible. But then Yoongi suddenly cleared his throat and brushed his hands nervously over his pants.
“Okay, your turn now.”
“You really expect me to follow that up?” you questioned back, the nerves beginning to settle over you once more.
Yoongi chuckled, the sound dancing in his eyes, “Of course not. I’m just gonna show you some basic scales.”
You playfully bumped his shoulder with your own.
“Show off.” you remarked teasingly.
“Don’t act like I didn’t just woo the fuck out of you with my piano skills.” he quipped back, flashing you a cocky smirk.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, betraying you.
“Okay, fine. Consider me wooed. I guess you can court me now or whatever. After our lesson of course.” you reminded him, and Yoongi swept his hand over the top of the keyboard as if to say “All yours”.
As promised, Yoongi taught you some of the basic scales. It was honestly so hard to concentrate though because there was something so sexy about when he went into teacher mode. Especially once he covered your hands with his own to guide them over the keys. Your brain just went completely blank anytime his hands were on you.
“You know, you could always just join one of my classes. If you wanted to.” he voiced as he helped maneuver your hands.
“Yeaaaaah, something tells me I wouldn’t be able to learn very much. I’d be too distracted by the hot teacher.” you replied cheekily.
Yoongi’s grip on your hands tightened briefly, and you smirked to yourself. But then he switched to teasingly trailing his fingers over your hands and up your arms and back down again, sending shivers through you with his phantom touch.
“I don’t think I’d be able to concentrate either.” he started, his mouth right next to your ear, “There’d only be one thing I’d want to have my hands on…and it wouldn’t be the piano.”
He pulled your ear between his teeth, and you squirmed next to him on the bench. His lips traveled along the length of your jaw, warm and hungry. You sighed out as you leaned into his touch, “Well I feel properly educated for the day. You were a great teacher.”
He hummed, and his mouth vibrated over your throat.
“Mmm, I want you to play the C major scale I showed you before we finish up our lesson for today.”
You pouted even though he couldn’t see it.
“Yoonieeee.” you whined, his teeth grazing your skin in response.
“Play the scale, and then we can start our real lesson.”
You hesitantly raised your fingers over the keys, trying to remember what he had literally just taught you. You pressed down on the first few keys, feeling a tiny victory at the familiar sound. You felt a little more confident going forward now. Until Yoongi sabotaged you by sliding one of his hands over your shoulder and down the front of your dress. He squeezed your breast, and you cried out as your finger struck the wrong key.
“Yoongi.” you scolded him, but he paid you no mind as he continued to knead your soft flesh and bruise your skin with his harsh mouth.
His thumb flicked over your nipple, and you jerked on the bench.
“Start again.” he said simply.
Fuck. This was going to be impossible.
Your hands were shaking this time as you positioned them back over the keys. You willed all your concentration and focus to be on playing the right keys in the scale, and not on Yoongi’s other hand, which was now starting to slip under your dress. You held your breath, making it about halfway through before your hands slammed down on the piano from the feeling of his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties.
“How in the fuck do you expect me to do this?” you demanded in frustration, your body beginning to tremble slightly.
His long digits glided through your folds, teasing you, and your hands curled into fists against your knees.
“Focus. Start again. Play the scale.” he pressed, the words searing against the skin of your shoulder.
Maybe if you just got through the scale as fast as possible. You discovered, however, that when your speed increased, so did the speed of Yoongi’s fingers as they rubbed over your aching core. Your head had nearly slammed down into the keys. You whimpered and started again, slower this time. Yoongi immediately slowed down with you. It took all of your strength and willpower to block him out, but soon you had reached the second to last note in the scale. You prepared to play the final note, but suddenly shot up from the bench when one of Yoongi’s fingers pushed inside of you, “Yoongi, fuck!”
He used his free hand to push you back down and hold you in place before inserting a second digit, making you writhe on the bench.
“Again. You almost had it that time.” he taunted you, and you could see his wicked smirk out of the corner of your eye.
He opted for just watching you this time as you started the scale again, but his hand didn’t cease its movements between your legs. His fingers plunged inside of you, crooking and twisting in a way that was nothing short of sinful. You had reached the last few notes again, you were so close. Yoongi’s thumb brushed over your neglected clit, and you yanked your hands down to your lap to keep from playing a wrong key as you nearly let out a sob.
“Oh, darling, you’re so close. Finish it.”
Your hands were shaking so violently now, but you still somehow managed to play the last few keys without any more errors. All the built up tension and pressure had you releasing all over Yoongi’s fingers as soon as your hands left the keys, and he hissed next to you.
Your body was still trembling in his hold, and you panted heavily as you struggled to regain your senses. Yoongi reached out with his clean hand to pull the cover back over the keys before withdrawing his other one from between your thighs. His coated fingers were slipping past your lips a moment later and pressing down on your tongue. You were still feeling hazy, but you sucked them clean without needing to be asked, Yoongi humming in approval.
He stood up from the bench a moment later, and reached down to lift you up and perch you on top of the piano, your head still spinning. His hands slid up your thighs, fingers digging in slightly. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee before slowly moving higher, the feeling of his wicked tongue making you grip onto the sides of the piano.
His fingers twisted into your waistband before pulling your panties down your legs and setting them on the bench next to him. Yoongi pushed your dress up to your hips to expose your dripping cunt, and his eyes blew out at the sight. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and you could see the desire, the hunger, pulsing through him. You clenched around nothing.
“Lay back for me, darling.” he instructed calmly.
Your heartbeat was deafening as your back met the wood underneath you. You let out a yelp when Yoongi wrapped his arms around your thighs and yanked you to the edge of the piano.
“Fuck. You have no idea how much I’ve been dying to taste you again.” he rasped out, and your fingers scratched against the wood.
He dove right in and started cleaning up your release, your back arching off of the piano as you gasped sharply. Yoongi ate you out messily, his grunts permeating the air while his face was buried in your cunt. The things he could do with his mouth, his tongue, had to be some kind of artform. A skill he had finely tuned much like his talent for the piano.
Your hands reached down to tangle in his long, fluffy hair as his tongue fucked into you. His nose kept bumping against your clit, making your nails scrape over his scalp.
“Oh my god, Yoongi.”
One of his hands snaked its way up your writhing body to roughly grab at your breast. Your body twisted on the wood when you felt his mouth suddenly envelop your bundle of nerves.
“Fuck. Fuck! Yoongi!” you cried out as he vigorously sucked at your clit, tongue flicking over the bud in quick strokes.
He always made you come undone with his mouth faster than anyone ever had, and today was no exception as you felt your high speeding towards you. His fingers dug into your skin harshly as he continued to eat your cunt like he was starving for you. You pulled hard against his dark strands, and Yoongi growled before grazing your clit with his teeth. Your desperate, breathy moans filled the air as you practically convulsed on top of the piano.
“Close…Yoon…” you panted out.
“Come for me, darling.” Yoongi coaxed, voice husky and dark, “Wanna feel you on my tongue.”
He nipped at your bud again, and you sobbed his name as you fell to pieces. Yoongi kept devouring your cunt until you were shivering in overstimulation and whimpering feebly. You felt him finally surface, and it took all your strength to even lift up your head to look at him.
His breathing was ragged, hair wild, chestnut irises nearly black, and his lips glistened with your release. You moaned softly as you watched his tongue swipe across his mouth to finish cleaning you off of his face. He looked absolutely wasted off of you.
“Always so fucking delicious. Could stay buried in your sweet little cunt all day.” he remarked, and you were caught off guard by how fucked out he sounded.
“I think I would die if you did.” you offered back weakly, making Yoongi laugh, his gums peeking out adorably.
“Alright, darling, watch out. I’m coming up there.” he said, and in your post orgasm haze you really thought he was joking.
But within a few swift movements, he had hoisted himself up and was hovering over your shocked figure.
“Wait, are you… You’re, you’re actually gonna fuck me on your piano?” you asked incredulously as you blinked up at him.
Yoongi shifted so you could feel just how hard he was as he brushed against you, “Wanna know a secret? It’s actually always been a fantasy of mine.”
You let out a small gasp as his admission washed over you.
“You mean, you’ve never done this? With anyone? Like ever?” you questioned further, genuinely feeling dumbfounded.
“Never.” Yoongi answered, flashing you a shy smile, “What do you say, darling? You wanna be my first?”
Your heart constricted in your chest at his choice of words. The fact that he wanted to share this first with you. That you would be the one to fulfill this fantasy for him. Warmth spread over your entire body.
“Yoongi Min, I would be honored to take your piano virginity.” you tried to say as seriously as you could manage, but as soon as Yoongi started chuckling, so did you.
“Please, taking you on my piano is my honor.” he voiced thoughtfully before leaning down to kiss you.
You immediately came to life beneath him, your hands finding their familiar home in his hair. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he devoured your mouth. Growing impatient, you made a grab for his pants. Yoongi smirked into the kiss as his hands joined yours to help free him from the confines of his clothes. He sat up momentarily to slip his white tee over his head and sweep his messy locks back from his face, top half bare except for the silver chain laying against his skin.
You shamelessly ogled his broad chest and defined muscles, your eyes trailing down his body to his achingly hard cock that bounced back up against his stomach.
“God,” you whispered as you reached for him, “you are so fucking hot.”
Yoongi flushed at the compliment, letting out a hiss when your eager hand wrapped around him a moment later.
“Like it’s seriously unfair.” you whined as you began giving him a few teasing pumps, and Yoongi groaned beautifully in response.
“What’s unfair is how unbelievably sexy you look right now. Fucked out on top of my piano, just waiting to be stuffed full of cock. Begging to be aren’t you, darling?”
God, he was so fucking hot when he was cocky. You needed him so bad, there was no point in delaying things any further. You released your hold on him and stretched your arms out above your head, inviting him with your eyes, “Do your worst, piano man.”
“Oh, I am going to wreck you.” he growled out before descending on you, and you let out a squeal as his body pressed down on you.
He intertwined his hands with your own, keeping them pinned above your head as his tip prodded at your entrance. He gave them a tight squeeze as he began pushing further past your walls, both of you moaning out at the sensation of feeling him inside you again. You arched into him at the stretch, and Yoongi placed a kiss on your shoulder.
“Always so tight, darling, fucking hell. You take my cock so well. Love fucking you open like this, feels so good.”
You preened at his praise, your head shooting up suddenly to connect your lips. Yoongi groaned into your mouth, finally bottoming out inside of you. Your legs came up to wrap around his waist as you kissed him furiously. Yoongi squeezed against your intertwined hands while he slowly drew back out before slamming all the back in with a harsh thrust that knocked all the air from your lungs. He quickly created a rhythm, driving his cock between your walls in swift, but powerful movements, your body sliding further up the piano with each stroke.
“Fuck…Yoongi.” you moaned brokenly as you lost the energy to keep kissing him.
He breathed hot air into your mouth as he continued fucking the life out of you. You held each other’s hands so tight it hurt, but it also served as an anchor to this moment and to each other. Yoongi grunted, hips snapping roughly with every thrust. Your head was starting to go fuzzy again, and you knew you wouldn’t last super long after he’d already pulled two orgasms from you today.
Yoongi released your hands suddenly, his fingers immediately snaking into your hair, tangling and pulling at the strands. Your hands latched onto his broad shoulders, and dug into his skin as he reached the deepest part of you again and again. Yoongi let out a snarl, “Fuck. You gonna scratch me up again today? Love when you leave your mark on me. A reminder of just how good I fuck you. Isn’t that right, darling?”
But you were beyond words, only able to respond with moans and whimpers as you clenched around him.
“Your perfect little cunt is squeezing me so tight, shit. You gonna come for me again, darling?”
Tears blurred your vision. Everything felt too good. Yoongi felt too good. His cock dragged inside of you at an agonizing pace, making you feel every inch of him. You bit down hard on Yoongi’s shoulder as your nails raked down his back, pulling a string of moans from him in response.
You felt one of his hands leave your hair and trail down the length of your body. His fingers strummed across your aching clit, and you let out a scream as everything inside of you snapped. Yoongi swore loudly as you came all over his cock, and he began fucking you with renewed vigor. You just held onto him for dear life, body shuddering, as he chased his own high.
He fisted your hair tightly in his free hand, groaning and panting as he continued rutting into you. His other hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, like he was holding onto you for dear life too. His thrusts began to stutter, and he leaned down to clumsily kiss you.
“Ah,” he moaned against your lips, “ah fuck.”
He twitched inside of you, and then he was coating your walls with his own release. Yoongi practically collapsed on top of you, his hair tickling your face as the two of you fought to catch your breath.
“Well…your fantasy…was it everything…you’d dreamed of?” you managed to ask, threading one of your hands through his fluffy locks.
You felt Yoongi smile against you, and your heart skipped in your chest.
“More…it was more. Reality topped fantasy…hands down. You topped fantasy.”
Your face warmed at his words, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi.
“I mean, technically…I actually bottomed fantasy.” you quipped back, and he nipped your neck in response, making you giggle wildly.
“Brat. I was trying to be sincere with you. I really like you, Y/N. And I hope we don’t always have to be a secret. I know you’re worried about everything with Faith, and I get it. But, at the risk of putting myself out there and sounding like an idiot, I want the day to come when I can be your boyfriend, and not just your little sister’s piano teacher that you fuck once a week. I want something real with you, and I want things to be okay between me, you, and Faith. Now would be a good time to tell me to shut up and stop wishing for a fantasy. That this is just sex, and that’s it. Just please, say something.”
You felt frozen beneath him, your tongue heavy in your mouth. One wrong word could shatter all of this. Or the right words, the true words, could be the start of something real and beautiful like Yoongi had said. He was laying so close to your heart, and the way it was rapidly pounding would probably end up giving you away anyway. He had taken the leap for you, and to you, Yoongi was more than worth the jump.
“Yoongi I, I’m falling for you. And it terrifies the hell out of me, but it also makes me feel excited, and hopeful. Being with you these last several weeks…it’s the best I’ve felt in a really long time. There definitely would have to be a conversation with Faith first, but I really want this, us, to be something real too. It’s not just sex for me anymore, and I don’t think it has been for awhile. I get butterflies when I think about seeing you. Not just fucking you. But seeing you and getting to be with you, even if it’s only for little bits at a time. Any time I can get is worth it to me, cause you’re worth it to me.”
You waited anxiously for his response, which came in the form of him covering your lips with his own, his hands coming up to cradle your face. It felt like the kiss at the piano earlier, only more sure, more confident. It was like you could feel everything that he felt for you, and you kissed him back, hoping that he could feel the same.
The two of you laid there for some time, just lazily tangled up in each other and in the fragile moment. Yoongi groaned loudly when you finally spoke up and mentioned that you should probably be heading back before Faith started to worry. He had the cutest pout on his face as he climbed down from the piano before holding out his hand to help guide you back to the floor.
“I can’t wait until you can finally just stay, and I can fall asleep next to you.” he voiced softly as he straightened his pants and retrieved his white tee from the floor.
“Me too.” you agreed, pushing up on your toes to kiss his cheek, and Yoongi immediately blushed.
“Hey, do you think I could hold onto this?” you added, gesturing at the shirt in his hands.
He gave you a gummy smile, “That’s not really keeping things a secret now is it, darling?”
“I’ll be careful with it. It’d just be nice to have a little piece of you with me.” you told him sweetly.
“Alright, it’s yours.” he said, tossing the shirt to you, “Can I keep these then? As something to remember you by.”
He bent down to pick up your panties from the floor and raised a mischievous eyebrow at you.
“Yoongi!” you exclaimed in shock, your cheeks burning.
“I’m kidding! Well, kind of.”
He flashed you a cheeky little smirk, and you shook your head at him, laughing.
“Well, if I just so happen to leave here without them, then I guess that really can’t be helped now can it?”
Yoongi hummed before stuffing the garment into his pocket.
“Yeah, guess not.” he agreed nonchalantly.
You felt your face heat once more, and you briefly turned your gaze to the piano, Yoongi’s eyes following yours.
“Shit!” he cursed suddenly, and worry immediately overtook you.
“What’s wrong?”
“It just occurred to me that I’ll never be able to play at this piano again without getting hard.”
You busted out laughing because you definitely had not been expecting that answer.
“Well, then, I guess you’ll just have to fuck me on every piano you own so that this one doesn’t feel singled out.” you quipped back as you gave him a knowing look.
Yoongi’s eyes were darkening immediately, “I think you better text your sister and let her know today’s lesson is running a little late.”
You grinned wickedly back at him, rising to the challenge.
“Whatever you say, piano man.”
2K notes ¡ View notes
nestypewriter ¡ 3 months
Text
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Change of Obsession
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[Content Warning: mention of physically harm, obsessive tendency]
[Disclaimer: I want to emphasize that I do not endorse or support this type of behavior. This content is purely for entertainment purposes.]
{Author's note: So I don't know what happened but I already post this but I can't find it anywhere , I tried look though my draft but it wasn't there , maybe it's an error or my app is bugging out, please let me know if there's a double, but anyways thank you you again 🐇 anon for requesting! I hope you like it 🩷💜}
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He was indeed in love with the loveliest girl in the whole town and dared to say that it was love at first sight! He couldn't get enough of her figure, whether she was walking about the park or just standing there with her most radiant form. But then, he saw you, a nobody, hanging out with his beloved, such an annoyance. But whatever, once he and his beloved became an item, you would be thrown to the side, forgotten like a black sheep.
But maybe he could get rid of you now, and then maybe his beloved would run to him for comfort, and then they could have their happily ever after! Yes! Yes! He should do that! He's such a genius! Now he should start planning to wipe out a pest.
Every day, he stalked you through the shadows, always watching you day by day and night after night. As weeks and months passed, he soon realized how much of a darling you were and how much you had in common! Coincidence? He thinks not! But little did he know that the more he got to know you, the more he lost his feelings for his current 'beloved'. But, oh well, let fate do its thing.
He could no longer watch you through the shadows; he had talked to you! And felt your radiant presence! He couldn't get enough of your voice and cute little quirks! Just simply adorable!
He should confess his love for you! Never once in his life was he certain of his feelings! Huh? .. What do you mean, 'no'? You were grateful for his bold confession and that you weren't looking for someone right now. But.. honey! He's different! He could change with anything you want! Please! Just love him!
Why are you saying you're sorry and walking away? No, no, no, NO! He can't accept this! YOU WILL LOVE HIM, WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT! Even if he has to take extreme measures like knocking you out with a baseball bat. Looking at your knocked form, he couldn't help but laugh at the situation. Look at what you have done! Making him do this! But, no matter, it was for the greater good!
Now you and he can both get your happy ever after! Together! Forever!
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wooataes ¡ 1 year
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Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part One)
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Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: Angst, Hanahaki AU, mentions of death, mentions of infidelity, reader cries, Seungcheol and Jeonghan being the cutest couple
Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?
A/N: Just a little warm up post to ease myself to getting back into writing. I’ve had this idea in my head for a few years now, and finally decided to get it up and running. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy it! - Taelor ☺️✨💜
Ask to be added to my Taglist here!
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You believed in soulmates. It wasn’t something that could be debated on in your world - someone out there was literally chosen and designed to cohabitate in perfect harmony with you, and only you. To love and cherish for the rest of your lives. Once you come into physical contact with your soulmate, it’s said that all the dull black and whites you see explode into a beautiful display of more colours than you could ever think of, and everything you feel is intertwined with what your other half feels. You have spent all 21 years of your life dreaming about what that would feel and look like.
You’ve seen soulmates meet before your very eyes. You saw it when your older brother, Choi Seungcheol fell for Yoon Jeonghan, literally, in your first year of college. You saw it when Jeon Wonwoo, close friend of your brother, caught Kim Mingyu into his arms just weeks prior.
You saw how much your mother loved her soulmate, your father, before he decided to leave her for a woman half his age when you were only 11 years old, and your brother 13. You saw your mother’s true love for your father seal her fate, falling ill to the dreaded curse of your soulmate not loving you back - watching life leave her with every flower petal she coughed up until there was nothing left. You saw it in your best friend Kwon Soonyoung’s parents, who took both you and your brother in until you both were of age and left for college.
You definitely weren’t a stranger to the phenomenon of soulmates, but you sure as hell were a stranger to knowing the beauty of colours and feelings of another. It’s something you craved and wanted so desperately to feel, you never knew when you would get to experience it.
In a way, you wished your soulmate was your best friend. Soonyoung knew everything about you; how to push your buttons and how to make your worst days feel like the best. Why couldn’t he be the one made for you? You spent most of your days together, being in the same Theatre and Dance majors at your college as well as the Theatre Club. In a realistic way, you two made perfect sense. But alas, Soonyoung’s soulmate came in the form of Lee Seokmin, the third in your best friend trio. You know that most of the time you’re the third wheel in your group, but you’ve grown to accept that fate over the previous 2 years.
Not having a soulmate never stopped you from living your life as you had intended, though. Living with your brother and best friend, along with the additions of their soulmates in a large 4 bedroom house inherited to you and Seungcheol by your mother in the city of Seoul, conveniently only a short commute away from your university. It wasn’t bad, on the contrary, you loved the company of your closest people who you call your family. There were the days when you often missed your mother and longed for the love only a soulmate could give, but those days are rare to have for you. You were more than content in your little bubble of existence.
“Choi Y/N!” You groan at the excited tone of your older brother calling you from the kitchen.
“It’s 6am, Cheol.” You grumble, snuggling into your knitted hoodie wrapped around your body as you slump against the breakfast bar, taking a piece of fruit from the basket on the bar. “Why are you so chirpy?”
“Good morning to you too!” He chuckled, reaching over and fluffing your hair up as you whined. “Don’t you think this green shirt makes my eyes pop?”
Seungcheol and Jeonghan had devised the perfect plan; wear an obnoxiously bright coloured shirt with the goofiest patterns and shapes - and once you found your soulmate, they would easily know because you would be so horrified that you would have to tell them what your thoughts were on the colour clashes.
“Ah, yes,” You hum, waving your banana around in the air. “They make the grey’s in your eyes really stand out.” You huff in a monotone voice, resulting in a laugh from the top of the stairs.
“It’ll happen eventually, Bug.” Jeonghan smiles as he passes you, giving you a peck on the forehead. “And we’ll be the first to know.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You smile, waving the couple off. “I’ll see you guys when I get home tonight. Don’t worry about dinner, it’s Working Bee tonight. Our sets won’t paint themselves.” You pull your backpack over your shoulder, umbrella in hand as you walk to the front door. “I’ll be home at around 8?”
“Sounds good, Love Bug!” Seungcheol smiled - Love Bug being a loving nickname from your mother. “But call us if you’re going to be home any later. We’ll wait up.”
“Will do! Love you,” you sang as you closed the door behind you.
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It’s late in the day when Lee Jihoon hums quietly to himself as he strolls through the hallway of the Music Building, tapping his fingers on his sides as he attempts to get the chord progression in his head correct. His eyes scan the bland black and white scenery in front of him, a blank expression matching the blank scenery.
“Hoonie!” A voice called, making Jihoon smile.
“Hey, you.” he hummed, pressing his lips to Kang Ji-ah’s temple, taking her into his arms.
He knows what you’re thinking. Why the hell would he be with a girl who wasn’t his soulmate? Well, why would he tell you? He doesn’t have to explain it to anyone, him and her are the only ones who know, anyway. It isn’t harming anyone. He didn’t even know if he believed in soulmates at this stage. And it’s not like anyone assumed any different. On the outside and to everyone else, Jihoon and Ji-ah were soulmates. They didn’t have to know it wasn’t real.
“I’ve got dinner with my parents tonight, Hoonie, but we can rain check our date until next week, right?” She smiled as Jihoon’s hands rested delicately around her waist.
“Of course, babe. I have to stay late for the Theatre Club anyway. Gotta get the orchestra prepared for rehearsals.” He lets her hands wrap around his shoulders as she pulls him in for a tight hug.
“Thank you, my love!” She cooed, giving him a final kiss on the cheek. “I’ll text you tonight, yeah?” She happily spun around and proceeded to go back from where she came, waving to Soonyoung and Seokmin coming towards Jihoon hand in hand.
“You two are sickeningly cute.” Soonyoung grimaces as Seokmin only grins.
“Oh stop it, Soonie. You know for a fact that Jihoon thinks the same about us.” He smiles as Jihoon only nods his head in agreement.
“Is there a reason you’re blessing me with your presence?” He raises his brow.
“Surprisingly, yes.” Soonyoung nodded quickly. “Jihoon-ah, you know you’re my best guy friend, right?”
“I am?”
“Don’t sound too shocked.” He pouted, making his soulmate giggle to himself. “I came to ask a favor of you.”
“Okay..?” Jihoon tilted his head.
“Are you able to walk Y/N back home tonight after the Bee? Min and I can’t make it and Cheol doesn’t want her walking home alone when the sun is just going down. I’ll shout some dinner for you next week to make up for it.”
“Oh, is that all?” He nods thoughtfully. Of course he knew you. You were Choi Y/N, top of your classes in Theatre. You were well known for your powerful vocals and bubbly personality. You were also a shoo-in for the lead role for Mamma Mia this year, and Soonyoung’s adopted sister. Your paths have crossed a few times, and Jihoon never had a problem with you; he even thought you were a cool girl. “Yeah that’s fine, it’s on the way home for me anyway.”
“Ah, you’re a lifesaver, Jihoon-ah! Thank you!” He grinned, clapping him on the back as he squeezed Seokmin’s hand. “Min and I have to go do a last rehearsal for my Hip-Hop final, but shoot me a text when you get home yeah?”
“Can do.” He nods, waving his hand as he makes his way to the campus band room to meet with the orchestra.
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When Jihoon arrives at the auditorium two hours later, he’s surprised when he’s only met with you, covered in small splotches of paint, and a halfway finished set piece that is meant to look like the pavements of Greece. Your hair is disheveled and tied in a lopsided ponytail on top of your head and your glasses sitting on the tip of your nose with no one else in sight.
“What happened to the Bee?” Jihoon made his presence known to you, causing you to jump as his voice echoes across the empty stage, the only other sound being heard coming from your small Bluetooth speaker by your side.
“Ah, it’s just you, Oppa.” You smiled as you held your hand over your chest, calming down your wild heartbeat from the fright. “The guys all left about half an hour ago. They all had to study for auditions and all that.” You lean down as you speak, painting over the wooden set. “But it’s fine. I work better alone anyway.”
“Doesn’t mean you should.” He frowns, walking up onto the stage and setting himself down on the other side of the large set piece, a blank canvas on the other side. “Why didn’t you finish when the others did?”
“Cheol isn’t expecting me home until later, might as well fill in my time helping the team out.” You shrug, smiling to the confused man as he watches you paint. “I gotta say though, being only able to paint the black and white parts of the sets is boring as hell.”
You intrigued him. According to Soonyoung, you suffered through a fair bit as a child and yet you seem so content with your life as you hum and paint away. After a brief moment, he sighs and picks up a paintbrush, dipping it into the paint.
“Woah, woah, woah.” You try to stop him. “You don’t have to help, really. I know Soonie put you up to walking me home, you don’t have to do this too.” You smile softly to him, and he just looks back at you with an expression you can’t decipher.
“You said it yourself,” Jihoon mumbles, painting the wood in front of him. “Might as well help out.”
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After thirty minutes of quiet but hard work of painting, you take a deep breath before lifting your head to the older boy who sat across from you, his long dark hair tucked delicately behind his ear as he worked.
“Oppa?” You ask quietly, only receiving a hum in return. “What’s seeing colour like?”
A beat of silence passes as Jihoon pauses his painting mid-stroke. “I wouldn’t know.”
“What?!” You drop the paintbrush on the newspaper covering the stage floor. “Ji-ah isn’t your soulmate?!”
“No?” He laughs incredulously, like it was the silliest question he had ever been asked. “I just like the girl, is all.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” You gasp. “Why are you even with her if she isn’t your soulmate?”
“It’s not like It’s a secret. No one ever asked, they just assumed. So I never told. Why does it bother you so much?” He frowns, feeling his cheeks grow warm.
“It doesn’t,” You counter, picking up the paintbrush again. “But.. like, aren’t you curious to meet the person literally made for you?”
“Made is a bit of a stretch.” He laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, it isn’t that big a deal. So we haven’t found our soulmates yet. We are just having fun with each other right now.”
“And what if you found your soulmate, what would you do then?” You ask cautiously, lifting your head and pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose once more.
“I don’t know?” He laughs again - a nervous tick of his. “They’d just have to accept that I really like this girl? We have a really good thing going on and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize that because the ‘universe’ says so.” He lifts his fingers into a quotation mark. “At this point, I don’t even think soulmates are a real thing. I mean, sure, our friends are happy together with their fun, colourful lives but I’m quite content with Ji-ah. We just get each other.”
“Well, Mr Debby Downer,” you pout, putting your paintbrush into the bucket of water by your side. “I appreciate your thoughts on the situation, I’ll be sure to rub it in your face when you eventually meet your soulmate and fall in love and never want to leave their side.” You smirk to yourself.
“Yeah, like that’ll happen.” He huffs, putting his paintbrush down as well. “Soonyoung was right, you are a hopeless romantic.”
“Well of course I am,” you beam and if Jihoon didn’t know any better, your eyes almost seem like they’re sparkling. “I can’t wait to see colours and meet the person I’m destined to be with. There’s nothing wrong with having dreams, Lee Jihoon.” You smile, packing up the paints on the floor as you speak.
“Sure.” He hums again, standing up as you pack up the auditorium and collect your things. “Ready to go?” He asks as you nod, pulling your hood up over your head.
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“You seriously didn’t know it was going to rain tonight?” You keep your hands stuffed in your pockets as your knitwear keeps you dry from the drizzling rain that falls from the sky.
“I don’t check the weather websites like an old woman.” Jihoon frowns, holding your umbrella over his head as he walks alongside you.
“You’re weird, Lee Jihoon.” You giggle quietly to yourself.
“Uh huh. I’ll be sure to let my soulmate know that when I meet them.” He remarks with a laugh as you walk together, letting the comfortable silence take over the both of you, the only sounds behind the rain pattering against your umbrella.
It takes the both of you 20 minutes to finally make it to your home and by the time you arrive, the rain has slowed to a light drizzle, the setting sun attempting to peak out behind the dark clouds.
“Well, thank you for walking me home, and the interesting take on soulmates, Oppa.” You smile as you step through the front gate, Jihoon still holding the umbrella over you so you don’t get wet. “I wish your soulmate the best of luck whenever you meet.”
“Likewise.” Jihoon laughs as you pull your hood off your head, getting ready to climb up the small staircase leading to the front door.
“I’ll see you for auditions, yeah?” You smiled as Jihoon nodded.
“Sure will.” He smiles, closing your umbrella as you turn to face the front door. “Oh, wait, your umbrella.”
“Oh, right.” You laugh, turning back and reaching out to take it from his hands, only for it to slip from his grasp at the last second.
“Crap, sorry-”
“Oops, sorry-”
You both reach for the umbrella on the pavement, fingertips brushing against each other gently. You let out a gasp as you look up to Jihoon’s face, his eyes changing colour right before yours, unexplainable colours starting to burst in all speckles of your vision. Your eyes widen as his face, clothing and the scenery around you lights up with multiple colours and shades, the now forgotten umbrella drops to the ground with a thud.
Jihoon is staring back at you with an unreadable expression, eyes mirroring yours as his hands shake. He feels dizzy as the sickeningly bright colours flood his vision. You’re staring at him in awe as the rain starts to grow heavier, coating the two of you with water.
“Oppa?” You ask quietly, so quietly that if Jihoon wasn’t looking at you when you said it, he would have missed it.
“…”
“Oppa, please say something..?” You ask shakily, and he shakes his head quickly. He can see it. You’re already imagining all the possibilities of your future. A future with him.
“… Don’t think this changes anything from what I told you at the Bee, Choi.” He grunts, not caring about the rain soaking his clothes. “I-I stand by it. You need to accept that I’m with Ji-ah, and nothing will change that.”
He pauses and waits for your response, growing more and more impatient as you just stare at him.
“W-well, if you don’t have anything more to say, then goodnight, Y/N.” Jihoon turns away, starting to head to the gate before feeling a sharp pain inside him. Wincing and reaching to hold the left side of his chest, he lets out a soft hiss. “Ah… what the hell?” He mutters to himself, turning back to look at you. He wishes he didn’t.
When you’re standing still, hand on your chest as the rain drenches your clothes, tears now falling freely down your cheeks is only then when Jihoon knows what he just felt; the only other side effect to having a soulmate.
He just felt your heart break.
“Y/N?” Jihoon asks cautiously.
As if snapping out of your trance, you blink a few times before whispering out “Don’t worry, Jihoon. No one will ever know. Just like you want.” You quickly turn and run up the stairs, opening the door to the house as Jihoon steps forward.
“Wait-” the door slams in his face as he reaches it, leaving him soaked, alone and feeling the pain of his soulmate’s broken heart.
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“Hey, Bug! How was the Bee?” Seungcheol steps into the entryway from the kitchen, your eyes immediately falling to the multicoloured button up shirt he had on. “What do you think of my- Y/N?” Cheol stops as he sees the tears on your face, your chest heaving as you struggle to take a breath.
Without another word, you quickly run upstairs and into your bedroom, deep sobs leaving your chest as you curl up into a corner of the room and bury your face into your knees. Seungcheol followed you quickly, stepping into the room cautiously.
“Y/N? Love Bug, what has happened?” He asks quietly. “Are you hurt?” He sees you shake your head no, and he sighs with relief. “Let me turn the light on to check, just in case okay?”
“No.” You hiccup, your face staying buried in your knees, your stomach twisting in pain. “Please.. I d-don’t want to see it. I hate it. Don’t make me look at it!”
“Bug? Look at what?” Cheol asks worriedly, his hand resting on the top of your head.
“Colour.” You sob, your body slumping against your brother. “I hate colour, I hate soulmates, I hate it!” You cry harder, your tears soaking into his stupid colourful shirt.
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489 notes ¡ View notes
gay-wh0re-slut ¡ 5 months
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Hiii congratulations on 200 followers! could you write something like the reader and Rhea date, and the reader gets very jealous of the interactions between Rhea and Cathy Kelley, ending fluffy or smut or both lol it's up to your preference 💜
thank you so much!!! i’ve noticed you liking and reblogging a bunch of my stuff and i couldn’t thank you, enough it means so much to me 🩷
but this seems like a fun thing to write and we’ll definitely see where this takes me when we get to the ending haha
after writing: this is a bit short :/ but i hope you like it
Too Friendly
rhea x fem!reader
content: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff
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“The honorary member of the judgment day,” the group would call you. You were almost always with Rhea at the shows because you loved seeing everything behind the scenes. The crew didn’t mind much because you kept to yourself and didn’t mess anything up, plus they liked seeing Rhea happy.
You were chilling in the Judgment Days locker room with Dom and Rhea before the other two got there. You were talking about random things and how Dom liked the chicken tenders bit the fans had and what was going on for the night.
Rhea got a text, “Cathy needs me, love, I’ll be back soon,” the australian kissed you before she stood.
“Do you know what she needs?” you were worried.
“Just a tiktok,” she cupped your face with both hands, “It won’t take a long, promise,” she smiled. “Dom!” she pointed at him, “tell her about that one thing,” as she laughed her way out of the judgment day’s locker room.
“Oh yeah!” he laughed with her.
“Okay so,” he started, he tried his best to get it out without laughing again, “Cathy said ‘hey come make a tiktok with me later’ to Rhea and but Rey was standing right there and he said ‘me?’ and Cathy said ‘never in a million years old man’ and he was furious!” he laughed again.
You giggled with him, but you didn’t find it as funny as they did because something else was on your mind.
He finally stopped laughing and caught his breath, “so what have you been up to?” he asked.
“Oh, uh nothing much,” you really didn’t have much going on, you were always with Rhea or at work. “I do have a question though.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Does… this is so stupid, but does Cathy have a crush on Rhea?” you wrung your hands as you tried not to sound too jealous.
“What? No, never. They’re just good friends and play it up for the fans, Rhea would never leave you or cheat on you or anything, she loves you too much,” he had a sincere tone, he could tell you were upset.
“She’s just always asking to do something with her and- I don’t know it just… I don’t know,” you were picking at the skin around your nails.
He got up and sat next to you, “hey, don’t worry, I promise. Never in a million years would she leave you. She talks about you all the time, I’ve never seen her so happy,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and gave a slight squeeze.
You easily gave into it, you let out a big sigh, “okay, thank you,” as you gave him a weak smile.
“You know what,” he stood holding out his hand, “let’s go watch them, maybe she’ll ask us to be in it too.”
You grabbed his hand and he led you out of the locker room.
“Hey Mami!” he shouted as you got closer to them.
“We’re almost done, everything alright?” Rhea seemed worried.
“Yeah! We just wanted to watch you,” he played it off.
You nodded your head in agreement smiling at your girlfriend but shot a look towards the other woman.
“Well, I’m nervous now,” Cathy laughed.
“Oh please,” Rhea laughed with her.
You and Dom sat on some rolling cases that were strewn backstage as you watched them do the same lines over and over to get the right take. You smiled and laughed silently not wanting to mess it up for them. Rhea kept giving you looks of endearment every now and then, but Cathy kept pulling her attention away from you.
They finally finished, “Sorry that took so long, guys,” Cathy said, “you two made me nervous,” she pointed at you and Dom as she playfully leaned on Rhea, giggling.
“All good,” you said smiling but you were a bit upset about this whole interaction.
“C’mon baby,” a familiar tattooed hand reached out to you as her eyes caught yours, she could tell something was up.
You accepted and walked with her, following where ever she went. She led you to the hallway behind the Judgment Day’s locker room, “are you okay?”
You looked at the floor, “yeah,” you didn’t sound too convincing.
She picked your chin up, “no… I can tell something’s up, what’s wrong?”
You started to tear up but you didn’t let them fall, and the lump in your throat was definitely there, “nothing!” You realized how mean you sounded so you fixed your tone, “nothing, I’m okay.”
“You’re lying,” she was trying her best not to get angry at your tone, but her grip was tightening on your chin ever so slowly, “what’s. wrong?”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” you said weakly.
She loosened her grip and cupped your cheek, rubbing your face with her thumb, “that’s fine, but we are going to talk about it later. You know I don’t like seeing you upset.”
“I know and we will, just not right now,” you placed your hand on hers, “I have to work it out myself, first.”
“Okay,” she gave you a small smile, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She gave you a small kiss, “Damian should be back by now, want to go back in?”
You nodded your head as you followed her in.
The night came and went and you were finally heading back home. You had helped your girlfriend pack her things and put them in the truck before she drove the two of you back.
You rested your head on your hand on the middle console, dozing off so she didn’t bother you much on the ride home. Her free hand was gently placed on your thigh the whole way, sometimes gliding it up and down to make sure you knew she was there.
Once inside and after saying hello to the animals, “I think I’m ready to talk about it,” you said plopping yourself on the couch.
She followed and sat down next to you, “go ahead, baby,” she said as she propped her elbow on the back of the couch facing you.
“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “I don’t like…well, I-” you had all this time but you still couldn’t think of the right words to say.
She let you work it out and placed her hand on your knee as she watched you plan your words.
“I think Cathy likes you a little too much,” you finally say.
“I don’t think so,” she scoffed.
“I do, that’s why I was upset earlier. She’s pulls you away for forever, it seems like, and you barely have time to be around me, or the boys for that matter,” the words spilled out of you. “I feel as though that every time I’m around, she pulls you away for some post or tiktok just to get you away from me.”
“I don’t think that was her intention, love,” her voice was calm.
“And the way she touched you when she knew I was watching, ooh I almost jumped her,” your heart rate spiked as it replayed in you head.
“Woah now, I think you’re overthinking it, she’s a touchy person, she does that with everyone,” she was trying to play devils advocate but it wasn’t going too well.
“Not that I’ve seen!”
“I promise there is absolutely nothing going on between me and her,” both of her hands were now on your legs pushing into you to make her point more believable.
“Promise?” you put your hands on hers as you grimaced.
“One hundred percent,” her icy blue eyes stared into yours, “on Barry’s life.”
“Aw don’t bring him into this,” you watched as his ears perked up.
“Sorry bro,” she said to him, “But seriously I promise,” she smiled back at you.
“Okay,” you sighed with relief, “but the next time she touches you a little too friendly, I’m gonna-”
“Hey there, tough guy,” she held your hands from balling into fists, “don’t worry about her anymore and let’s take this energy out somewhere else, yeah?” she winked at you.
“Oh? What did you have in mind?” you smiled knowing her answer already.
“Why don’t you come and find out?” she stood as she used her finger to tell you to follow her to the bedroom.
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kingofbodyrolls ¡ 5 months
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Friendcation (m) | myg | seven [fin]
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Summary: Melancholy shrouds you and Yoongi in your last days of vacation – time to get back home to the daily grind. But when you can visit Yoongi in his garage, is it really so bad?
Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)
Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin.
Genre/AU: best friends to friends with benefits to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, slight angst, smut and fluff
Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Status: complete!
Word Count: 11.3K
Warnings (general): angst and uncertainty, pregnancy test and pregnancy scare. Warnings (explicit): explicit rough sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, ass slapping, impreg kink (new for me, so it might be light and soft), nipple play, Yoongi’s garage and a certain car 👀 (yes this is a warning and you’ll understand it when you read it 🥵), hair pulling, slight possessiveness 👀, lots of ass grabbing, some brief cockwarming too.
Author’s note(1): This is the end of the road, guys 😭 It has truly been a rollercoaster for me, and I’m so pleased with these last chapters and I feel like this is a good way to end things for this couple and their teasing friends. 
Also, there’s a line of dialogue in this chapter (one of Yoongi’s 🥵) that spawned another fic that I actually wrote to get out of my writers block before I could finish friendcation – It’s ‘Say that Again (I Dare You)’, if you’re interested you can go ahead and give it a read 🙂 (It has nothing to do with friendcation and everything to do with me being an insatiable hoe 😇).
Thank you so much – and thanks to all that likes, comments, reblogs, yeah, anything. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, it makes me so happy and a damn smiling fool 💜
Author’s note #2 (very important): when I wrote this chapter, I’d simultaneously been reading @kithtaehyung’s 3tan series, and without even realizing it, I had written a scene similar to hers. They do it on a desk—, and I know, yes, in many fics the characters do it on a desk, but to me, this was enough for me to say something was wrong with my work. It wasn’t even that similar in the wording or the specific scene, but to be on the safe side, I have rewritten the scene in question. ✨
Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts, @constancelayon, @wobblewobble822, @ktownshizzle, @moonchild1, @ultimatefangirl0, @baechugff, @jimintaemin, @parapiop7, @fckkntired, @iluvfndms, @citypop-princess, @tarahardcore, @bergandysam, @massivelyfullenthusiast, @tatyhend, @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **you can still be added to the taglist, just drop a comment here, on any chapter or the masterlist and I’ll add you 🌸
It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.
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“The second statement is a lie,” you laugh, your conviction cutting through the night air. The rest of your group joins in with a collective hum of agreement. 
“You just don’t strike me as the threesome type,” you assert, adding a touch of finality to your words. 
Namjoon casts a curious gaze your way, his eyebrows lifting ever so slightly. 
“Are you sure?” he asks, a hint of skepticism coloring his words. 
You nod affirmatively, your confidence unwavering. It’s hard to fathom Namjoon engaging in such endeavors; his other statements seem to carry a more authentic resonance. 
Your eyes widen in disbelief, almost popping out of their sockets, as Namjoon casually shrugs his shoulders, his laughter resonating through the air. “Well, I have,” he admits, reclining in his seat with an air of nonchalance. 
Your gasp is almost audible, a testament to the revelation that shatters your preconceived notions. “Wow,” you utter in awe, realizing that even those you thought you knew well can still surprise you with hidden facets.
“I just didn’t think you were into that, maybe Hoseok, but you, Joonie?” you say in a breathy voice, the disbelief evident. 
The mention of Hoseok prompts an indignant “Hey!” from him, and you can’t help but chuckle. 
Namjoon continues to laugh, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he playfully challenges Hoseok, “It’s your turn, Hobi.”
All eyes, except Yoongi's, focused on the road, shift to Hoseok, waiting for the next set of revelations as he contemplates his three statements. The rhythmic hum of the engine underscores the silence, creating a suspenseful atmosphere within the confines of Holly. 
As you all hum with curiosity, anticipating Hoseok’s next revelation, he unveils another layer of himself. “I once dated a man,” he confesses, a momentary hush falling over the group, the revelation hanging in the air like a delicate thread. 
The subsequent statement, “I’m scared of snakes,” elicits laughter, the image of Hoseok’s comical encounters with the slithering creatures at the zoo playing in everyone’s minds. 
Then, in a surprising twist, Hoseok drops the bombshell, “I was contacted to choreograph a music video.” 
Holly is filled with gasps and widened eyes as the weight of this unexpected admission settles among the group. 
The van is a buzz of whispers and exchanged glances as you and your friends dive into a lively debate, dissecting each of Hoseok’s revelations with an air of camaraderie. 
Yoongi’s voice, a steady anchor amid the animated chatter, breaks through as he shares a practical update.
“We’re almost there,” he interjects, his gaze fixed on the winding road.
You catch a glimpse of his focused expression, the contours of his profile bathed in the soft glow of passing streetlights in the dim morning.
“Just stopping by a store first.” 
Yoongi continues, his words weaving seamlessly into the ongoing banter. 
Seokjin’s laughter erupts like a spontaneous melody, harmonizing with the hum of the van’s engine.
Namjoon chimes in, “But the fear of snakes? That’s so Hobi. Remember that one time at the zoo?” The memory elicits another round of laughter, lightening the atmosphere.
You interject with a thoughtful musing, “The music video thing could also be true.”
Namjoon’s analytical mind chimes in, “But he could also have dated a man, I’m sure he’s mentioned that sometime.” His words ripple through Holly, introducing an element of doubt that swirls around Hoseok’s revelations.
Seokjin’s confident assertion pierces through the deliberations, echoing with finality. “We think the statement with the music video is a lie,” he declares. The collective nodding of heads and the subtle hum of agreement create a shared consensus among you. 
The decision is made, and the spotlight now shifts to Hoseok, awaiting his response.
“That one was actually true,” Hoseok’s revelation hangs in the air, a surprising twist that elicits a collective gasp and a wave of laughter. 
Your voice, laced with a cocktail of disbelief and genuine curiosity, slices through the air like a finely tuned instrument. 
“Hold up, you haven’t actually dated a man?” you query, your eyes widening in a mix of incredulity and intrigue.
“Not yet, but I’m open to the possibility,” he grins, radiating a warmth that rivals the sun itself.
“Wait... Does that mean you’re going to choreograph a music video?” Namjoon slaps him on the shoulder, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, causing him to wince.
Hoseok nods, his expression bright and proud. “They reached out to me before the vacation, and a few days ago, they confirmed that I got the job.”
“Wow!” you exclaim, your face bright and brimming with genuine happiness for your friend.
“That’s absolutely amazing.” Seokjin adds gleefully, his excitement mirroring the collective joy in the van.
“Congrats.” Yoongi adds from the driver’s seat, his voice filled with genuine warmth and a hint of pride for Hoseok’s achievement.
“Thank you.” Hoseok says proudly, launching into enthusiastic explanations about his new job, his eyes lighting up with passion for the upcoming project.
“We’re here.” Yoongi announces, effortlessly maneuvering Holly into a parking spot before cutting off the engine, the sudden silence emphasizing the arrival at your destination.
You all spill out of the van, a lively group on a shared mission, and step into the store, ready to stock up on essentials and treats for the upcoming days of your adventure.
As you step into the store, the unspoken choreography of your group takes over, each member moving with purpose to efficiently tackle the shopping list. 
You and Yoongi, armed with a basket and a secret mission for a pregnancy test, navigate the aisles in search of canned goods, weaving through the vibrant array of products. Meanwhile, the rest of the team secures a cart, ready to explore the realms of meat and veggies. 
In no time, you and Yoongi expertly pluck a selection of canned goods from the shelves, tossing them into your basket with practiced ease. As you navigate the aisles, hand in hand, your journey takes a deliberate detour to the toiletries and sanity section. There, amidst the array of products, you both zero in on the elusive pregnancy test with the finesse of seasoned shoppers.
As you reach for a package, an unexpected weight settles in your hand, the incongruity of such a small item bearing a significant burden dawning on you. 
In this moment, the weight transcends the physical, carrying with it the gravity of what it represents—questions, possibilities, and the potential to alter the course of your relationship with Yoongi.
Locking eyes with Yoongi, you muster the courage to break the news subtly. “Is it okay if I head up to pay for it now? I’d rather keep it between us for now,” you confess, your voice carrying a blend of vulnerability and anticipation. 
His response is a reassuring squeeze of your hand, a silent affirmation that he understands. “Of course. Go pay for it, and I’ll round up the others. We’ll join you outside,” he assures, the unspoken promise of solidarity evident in his gaze.
With a tender yet uncertain smile, you part ways from Yoongi, fully aware that within the confines of this unassuming package rests the key to your shared destiny.
You hasten to the cashier, swiftly complete the transaction for the test, and then make your way to Holly, anticipation knotting your stomach as you await the arrival of your friends.
In no time, your friends conclude their shopping, and you assist in loading the van with groceries. Safely tucked away in one of your bags is the pregnancy test, a secret that remains concealed from prying eyes.
Returning to Holly, Yoongi takes the wheel, steering you toward a hidden forest oasis where he skillfully parks, creating a cocoon of tranquility amid the lush surroundings.
As the sun bathes the surroundings in a golden glow, setting up camp in the middle of the day proves delightful, offering ample light to illuminate your tasks. With a symphony of coordination, each of you contributes to unloading Holly and assembling the tent, a well-practiced ritual that transforms the serene landscape into a cozy haven.
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While the guys gather around a crackling campfire, savoring light snacks and sipping on cold beers, you find it challenging to fully unwind. The weight of the pregnancy test preoccupies your mind, its presence an insistent reminder. An undercurrent of nervous anticipation builds within you, urging you to take the test and unravel the mystery that has woven itself into the fabric of your thoughts.
You rise from your seat with purpose, drawing a few curious glances, notably from Yoongi, yet determinedly stride towards the van. 
Each step feels charged with the weight of the moment, the bag clutched in the comfort of the van holding not just your belongings but the potential key to your future.
Startled, you almost jump at the warm and familiar voice that breaks through your reverie. Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him approaching. 
“Can I come with you?” he asks, his presence both surprising and comforting.
His hands find your waist, their warmth and rough texture grounding you in the present. With a reassuring touch, he gently nudges you, calming the swirling thoughts that had momentarily carried you away.
You arch an eyebrow at him, your fingers tightly clenched around the pregnancy test. 
“You wanna watch me pee?”
He chuckles at your furrowed expression, gently turning you around to face him. With a tender touch, he brushes stray strands of hair away from your face, locking eyes with you as he nods, a silent reassurance passing between you.
“That’s gross, Yoongi. You don’t have to watch me pee.” You mumble, keeping your voice low to avoid the others catching on.
“If you’re pregnant, watching you pee on a stick will be the least grossest thing I’ll see.” Yoongi teases, a playful glint in his eyes.
Admitting defeat, you concede, and let him accompany you into the serene depths of the forest, away from the prying eyes of your friends and the campsite.
His hand, warm and reassuring, intertwines with yours, a conduit for the palpable love that flows between you. Seeking solace beside a sturdy tree, you carefully retrieve the test, holding it up for closer scrutiny.
“I’m scared.” 
You admit, the words almost a whisper in the quiet of the forest. Yoongi’s gaze softens with understanding, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. “I understand,” he reassures, gently lifting your face to meet his gaze, “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”
“Okay?” he murmurs, his gentle touch stroking your cheek before he leans in, placing a chaste kiss on your trembling lips. In that simple moment, he somehow eases the fear swirling within you. You nod, a wave of gratitude washing over you for his unwavering presence.
You carefully open the package, extracting the instructions and scrutinizing them. This marks your first experience with a pregnancy test, and you’re determined to ensure every step is executed correctly.
“I should’ve brought a cup or something to collect the pee,” you groan at the inconvenient realization. “Oh well,” you chuckle, pulling down your pants to relieve yourself against the tree. Yoongi efficiently unpacks the test and hands it to you, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
In a million scenarios, you never imagined finding yourself in a forest, peeing on a stick while Yoongi watches. It’s almost laughable, the twists life takes.
Your voice wavers with uncertainty as you pull your pants back up, glancing at the test. 
“Can you set a timer? Three minutes.” You request, the seconds ticking away with the weight of anticipation.
Yoongi swiftly retrieves his phone, the soft glow illuminating his focused expression as he expertly sets a timer, the seconds ticking in sync with the nervous beats of your heart.
Restlessly, you tread back and forth, clutching the test in your hand, each step echoing the restless beats of your heart, anxiously awaiting the passage of time.
Yoongi’s reassuring touch envelopes your waist, leading you to another tree, one untouched by your earlier predicament. “Relax,” he murmurs, settling you down against the sturdy trunk, both of you finding solace in its shelter.
A flicker of curiosity brightens your eyes as you break the silence. 
“Aren’t you nervous?” You inquire, secretly craving insight into his seemingly calm demeanor, a shared vulnerability between you two.
“Not really.” He shrugs, a nonchalant exterior belying the subtle lean against your shoulder, a silent reassurance echoing louder than words ever could.
Then silence envelops you, a palpable tension that’s not uncomfortable, but rather pregnant with anticipation, each passing second stretching the boundaries of waiting.
As the timer beeps, you gasp, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the sound echoing the suspense that has built up within you.
With trembling hands, you bring the test closer to your face, inspecting the results. Your heart gallops like a herd of wild stallions, and your breath quickens in anticipation. 
Are you ready for this revelation? 
Ready or not, here it is—just one line. 
Not pregnant.
Your heart plummets at the stark results, and you release a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. 
The sting of tears gathers at the corners of your eyes, and a single teardrop slips free.
Yoongi swiftly brushes away your tears, his touch a comforting blend of warmth and reassurance, his fingers tenderly tracing the curve of your cheek.
“Not the results you were hoping for?” 
Yoongi’s voice carries a mixture of empathy and concern, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for the emotions hidden within.
Tears cascade down your cheeks in a torrent, your sobs escaping in uncontrollable waves. With a mix of frustration and despair, you discard the test, shielding your face in trembling hands. “I don’t know,” you confess through the emotional turmoil, your vulnerability laid bare.
He cradles your hands, gently freeing your tear-stained face from its hiding place. Drawing you into a cocoon of warmth, he envelops your trembling form in a tender embrace. His fingertips dance soothingly along your back, a silent promise of unwavering support as you release the weight of your emotions on his shoulder.
“It was negative,” you choke on a stifled cry, “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“You were hoping for a positive.” He murmurs warmly against your ear, sending delightful shivers down your spine. Damn it, he’s right. The test has consumed your thoughts for days, and a part of you had secretly wished for a positive result. Fuck.
“I didn’t realize I wanted that,” you sob, clinging to his embrace as if your very existence depended on it.
“It’s okay, babe. To be honest, I’m a bit disappointed too,” he confesses in a tender voice as you slowly pull away from him, locking eyes.
In his eyes, you search for any sign that he’s just saying that to make you happy, but the determination, love, and care in those beautiful brown eyes tell a different story. He wanted the test to be positive too. He wants to have a kid with you. The thought finally hits you, and you begin to cry again.
You ask in disbelief, your body still shaking with the aftermath of tears, “You want to have a baby with me?”
“Yeah,” he looks at you tenderly again, kissing your tear-stained cheek. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“I mean, we haven’t been together long,” you begin as your crying turns into small sobs, your heart slowing down gradually.
“Babe, we’ve known each other for over ten years. Spent so fucking much time loving each other, without telling the other. It’s not about the time, it’s you.”
At this, tears well up again, a cascade of emotions unleashed by his beautiful words. 
Your heart leaps and somersaults because, damn it, he’s right. Maybe you haven’t been ‘officially’ together for that long, but the bond you share spans years. It feels natural, like the coming together of two souls that have known each other intimately for decades.
As he speaks, his words paint a vision of a future you never dared to imagine. 
“I want kids in the future, and I want them with you,” he declares, his sincerity echoing through the forest. You sob at the beauty of his words, your heart swelling with emotion. 
“You’ll be an awesome and fearless mom. You’re strong, incredible, and your heart is so big and full of love,” he continues, each compliment a brushstroke in the portrait of your relationship. 
“With you, I want everything. Why waste any more time?” he asks, his soft chuckle carrying the weight of a promise for a future filled with love and possibility.
In the wake of his heartfelt confession, you’re overwhelmed by the cascade of loving and wonderful words that have poured from his lips. You yearn for everything he’s just described, and the intensity of your desire propels you into a kiss that speaks volumes. 
It’s not just a simple meeting of lips; it’s a fervent exploration, a hunger for all of him. 
The kiss is messy, tears and saliva mingling to create a salty sweetness on your tongues. Yet, in this raw and unfiltered moment, you find solace because, for the first time, you’re not just kissing; you’re tasting the promise of a shared future.
“Damn. I want that too.”
Your moan escapes into his mouth, a symphony of pleasure, as your hands entwine in his long hair, pulling with an urgency that draws a deep groan from him, echoing in the intimate space of your kiss.
As you softly pull away, the realization hits that the tears have ceased, replaced by a new and electric tension. A surge of desire courses through you, prompting you to grind your body against his, teasing and stoking the flames of arousal that now dance between you.
“What does this mean?” 
You ask, the taste of salt still lingering on your lips as you lick them. The remnants of your earlier mood dissipate, making room for a lighter and happier atmosphere.
“That I’ll fuck you raw,” he smirks at you, his eyes turning dark with desire.
“Make you nice and round.” he strokes your stomach before cupping your clothed core.
You release a sultry moan, “Fuck, yes.”
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You stroll alongside Yoongi, hand in hand, your cheeks likely marked with the remnants of tears, yet you’re beaming, the joy evident. With Yoongi by your side, nothing else holds significance.
As you return to your friends, you catch the intrigued glances they shoot your way, a silent curiosity lingering in the air, though no words are exchanged.
You settle into the chair with Yoongi, the contours of his lap perfectly accommodating your form as you nuzzle your head against his chest, finding solace in the rhythmic beat of his heart.
You feel the weight of curious eyes on you, a silent conversation unfolding in their gazes, laden with unspoken words yearning to break free.
“We’re thinking about heading home tomorrow.” Hoseok starts, his voice carrying a subtle air of decision with each sip of his beer.
“So you can savor a few days of solitude before your vacation bids farewell.” Namjoon chimes in, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
You exchange glances with him and offer a gentle, appreciative smile. Your heart swells with gratitude for the sweetness and thoughtfulness your friends never fail to show.
Seokjin chimes in with a smile, “I miss my girlfriend too.”
“We’ll drive you to the station tomorrow.” Yoongi says, his hands intertwining with yours, a gesture that speaks volumes of comfort and support.
As the night unfolds, a cascade of laughter and clinking beer bottles paints the scene. Hoseok, with his infectious energy, pulls you into a dance, and the rhythm of the music becomes the soundtrack to a night filled with camaraderie and unforgettable moments. Laughter echoes around the campfire, weaving together a tapestry of joy that lingers in the memories of friendship.
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“Friday at the bar, don’t be late!” 
Hoseok’s enthusiasm resonates in his voice as he envelops you in a warm, anticipatory hug. Then, he turns his exuberance towards Yoongi, squeezing him tightly, a bear hug that elicits a gruff grunt from your usually composed boyfriend.
“Absolutely, can’t wait for the gang to reunite!” Your words ring with genuine joy as you share heartfelt hugs with Namjoon and Seokjin. Even Yoongi, typically reserved, offers reluctant but sincere goodbyes in the form of tight hugs.
As their figures gradually blend into the bustling station crowd, you continue waving, the distance adding a bittersweet tinge to your farewell. The echoes of laughter and shared moments linger, fading with each step they take, leaving you with a mix of nostalgia and anticipation for the next reunion.
“What should we do now? So much alone time.” 
Yoongi’s voice, soft and filled with the promise of undisturbed moments, lingers in the air as you both face the van. The question carries the weight of endless possibilities, a canvas awaiting the strokes of your shared desires in the quietude of alone time.
As you both enter Holly, the air crackles with a newfound anticipation. Leaning into Yoongi’s side, you murmur your plan, your words a bold invitation that sets the atmosphere ablaze. 
“You drive us back to our campsite,” you start, the door closing behind you, “and then I’ll fuck you senseless.”
Yoongi chuckles, the sound a tempting melody in response to your boldness and the unmistakable glint of desire in your eyes. “Bossy,” he teases, the word laced with a promise of playful surrender.
As he ignites the engine, the subtle purr of the vehicle syncs with the quiet hum of anticipation. Driving back to your campsite, the warmth of your touch on his thigh acts as a silent yet palpable connection, a prelude to the intimacy awaiting both of you.
With Holly’s engine silenced, you pounce on him, the urgency in the air charging the atmosphere. Your hands glide up his thigh, boldly exploring the terrain beneath the fabric. A daring grip on his clothed dick elicits a soft, impassioned moan, your name escaping his lips like a whispered prayer.
“Impatient much?” 
He chuckles, the sound a harmonious melody to the rhythm of your teasing palm. Your deliberate touch prompts him to throw his head back against the headrest, surrendering to the escalating desire coursing through every fiber of his being.
“Yeah, I’m already so wet. I just want you inside me, Yoon.” 
Your words, laced with a sense of urgency and desire, spill out as you hastily discard both of your pants and underwear, the anticipation building in the air like an electric charge.
“Shit,” he mutters, closing his eyes, savoring a soft breath as you unzip his pants. With his assistance, you deftly pull down both his boxers and pants, leaving them pooled at his knees.
Without hesitation, you straddle him. The confines of the front seat are a bit tight, creating an intimate space that’s not entirely uncomfortable, but charged with anticipation and lust.
His arousal is evident, and you tease him by grinding your core against his throbbing length. The dual response, a twitch and a moan, sends shivers down your spine. The symphony of his pleasure fuels your desire, and you savor every intoxicating sound escaping his lips.
With a confident grip, you guide his dick to your eager entrance, then descend upon him in one seamless motion. The delicious stretch and the raw sensation, liberated from the confines of a condom, draw a heartfelt exclamation. 
“Fuck, you’re so big,” you gasp, relishing the intimate connection that electrifies the air.
His husky voice, laced with desire, breathes out admiration, “Damn, you’re so tight, taking me so well.’” His hands confidently find your hips, anchoring themselves in a rhythm that mirrors the growing intensity between you.
Your movements become a rhythm of urgency, bouncing in his lap with a fervor that sets a relentless pace from the very beginning. The sensation of fullness overwhelms you, and the impending climax rushes towards you like a tidal wave. 
Damn it, the pleasure is so exquisite, so consuming, that you can’t help but surrender to its intoxicating embrace.
Your breath comes in furious pants, a symphony of desire echoing in the air. Fingers entwined in his hair, you tug hard, prompting a hiss of pain from him as you practically impale yourself on his cock. 
“Fuck!” The expletive escapes your lips in a primal scream, a raw expression of the overwhelming pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being.
Yoongi’s hold on your hips tightens, his movements synchronized with yours, creating a rhythm that feels like a shared heartbeat between you. With a firm grip, he guides your ascent and descent, an intimate dance of passion and connection.
“Babe,” he pants, his gaze locking onto yours with hooded eyes. “I won’t last much longer.”
You pant and moan his name, “Same here.”
You roll your hips over his, desperately seeking release, while one of your hands trails down to your clit, vigorously rubbing it.
With a few intense strokes on your clit, a surge of pleasure radiates from your core, and you feel a release building up. You let out a breathless moan, calling his name as your vision momentarily blurs. As your body succumbs to the waves of ecstasy, Yoongi takes control, guiding you up and down by your hips, plunging into you with fervor, seamlessly melding with the throes of your orgasm.
Your fingers thread through his hair, gripping and releasing in a rhythm matching the intensity of your movements. With each passionate kiss to his neck, you leave behind a trail of bites that elicit a symphony of pleasurable sounds from him, creating a delicious melody of desire beneath you.
Your name escapes his lips like a fervent prayer, a raw confession of imminent release as he gasps, “Fuck, I’m gonna come, babe,” the words laced with urgency and desire.
In the throes of pleasure, you hiss, “Fill me up, Yoon,” your moan a seductive melody as you sink down on him again, deliberately clenching your walls around him.
“Shit!” he grunts, his release flooding into your welcoming warm pussy.
“You’re absolutely amazing, babe,” he says, his voice dripping with so much love that it envelops you like a warm embrace, making you feel like you could swim in its depths.
“As are you, Yoongi.” You murmur into his ear, wrapping him in a big and warm hug, your breath steadying against the curve of his ear.
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You make a conscious effort to savor every fleeting moment of these last few days of your trip, acutely aware that the return to your mundane daily lives is inevitable.
Your period has finally made its appearance, adding a bit of a damper to your spirits and contributing to your already sour mood, but you try not to dwell on it.
You embark on what feels like a magical ‘date,’ where the warmth of a campfire, the sizzling sounds of grilling, and the joy of each other’s company create a perfect, intimate evening in the cocoon of your campsite.
In the familiar rhythm of your camping routine, Yoongi takes the lead at the grill, but tonight, the dance of preparing the meat and chopping vegetables becomes a shared symphony. Surrounded by the serene seclusion of the forest, the campfire’s glow paints a warm ambiance on your faces, casting playful shadows that dance and flicker. 
As you skillfully turn the vegetables over the crackling flames, a wistful sigh escapes your lips. “I’m going to miss this when we get back home.”
“We can always go camping on the weekends,” his voice, tinged with a hint of nostalgia, carries the weight of the inevitable return to reality. Yet, his smile, soft and bittersweet, speaks volumes of the preciousness he finds in the present, a moment cocooned in the dancing flames and the quiet murmur of the forest.
“Yeah, I’d love that,” your smile mirrors the warmth of the flickering flames, an unspoken promise to seize the simple joys of weekends and the solace found under the stars. 
“What are we gonna do when we get back home?” 
As the flames dance, casting a glow on your contemplative expression, you can’t help but sigh, the question lingering in the air like the smoke from the crackling fire. Poking at a charred vegetable in playful defeat, you turn to Yoongi, a mix of curiosity and anticipation in your eyes, as if the answer lies in the shadows painted by the dancing flames.
His gaze locks with yours, a quizzical expression playing on his features. 
“What do you mean?” He asks, and you can sense the curiosity dancing in his eyes, eager to unravel the depths of your thoughts.
As you voice the concerns lingering in your mind, your eyes search his face for a glimpse of understanding. 
“How are we going to make it work, Yoongi? We’re both workaholics.” You sigh, a smile playing on your lips, a mix of worry and anticipation painting your expression as you contemplate the intricate puzzle of your relationship.
His eyes flicker with a thoughtful gleam as he ponders your question, a soft ‘ah’ escaping his lips, carrying with it the weight of consideration and the promise of an honest response.
With a sigh, you add, “And I don’t want our relationship to fail,” as you skillfully pull the vegetables off the fire, their sizzling sounds a backdrop to the sincerity in your voice. The tray in your hands becomes a vessel for both grilled sustenance and the weight of your heartfelt words.
Yoongi expertly turns the sizzling meat, his eyes focused on the grill as he addresses your concerns. 
“First off, I don’t think it’ll fail,” he reassures, the aroma of barbecue blending with the warmth in his words. “We don’t have to see each other every day, although I’d like that very much. You are always welcome in my home or at the garage anytime. And we can do stuff on the weekends,” he adds with a hopeful voice, his smile matching the flickering flames as he places the perfectly grilled meat in a clean tray.
Your eyes light up with enthusiasm. “That sounds nice,” you respond eagerly, reaching for two plates as the prospect of a shared future with Yoongi takes on a tangible, comforting shape.
“I just hope we can make it work.” You express with a hopeful lilt in your voice, the sincerity of your desire for a future with Yoongi shining through.
“I know we can.” He reassures you, his voice carrying a quiet confidence that matches the unwavering belief in your love.
Together, you savor each bite, the conversation flowing effortlessly between dreams of future destinations, the nuances of work, and the tapestry of life itself.
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As dawn unfurls its radiant hues, you embark on an early morning hike through the forest, the sun casting golden ribbons through the foliage. The breathtaking spectacle of the sunrise filtering through the trees paints a memory you know will linger, a vivid scene etched in your mind, a treasure to carry with you as you reluctantly prepare to drive home later in the evening.
Hand in hand with Yoongi, you traverse the winding trails, enveloped in a comforting silence that needs no words. The stillness is a serene companion, allowing you to immerse yourselves in the natural symphony of your morning hike—the heady scents of the forest filling your noses, and the ethereal dance of dewy fog casting a mystical spell before you.
Returning from your invigorating hike as the sun climbs the sky, the lure of a sizzling farewell lunch beckons. 
Determined to make the most of your remaining moments in this woodland haven, you opt to ignite the grill one last time, infusing the air with the savory aroma of grilling meat and vegetables before bidding adieu to the serenity of the forest.
The atmosphere takes a bittersweet turn, the air thick with a sense of impending departure. Yoongi tends to the grill, the sizzle of meat a poignant soundtrack to your shared melancholy. 
You attempt to uplift the mood, filling the air with music that usually brings joy, but its lively notes seem to echo the underlying sadness that has settled between you two. As the speakers play on, both of you navigate the delicate dance between creating a facade of happiness and the somber reality of impending separation, etching the moment with shared glances that speak volumes.
“I don’t want to leave.” You force a laugh, the sound devoid of any genuine mirth. It resonates with an emptiness, a profound hollowness that mirrors the depth of your reluctance to part ways with this place.
“I know. Me neither. But we both have work tomorrow.” Yoongi confesses with a sigh, as if attempting to absorb every detail of this moment in nature. The bittersweet truth hangs in the air, a poignant reminder that, despite parting now, the prospect of future camping trips offers a glimmer of solace.
“It sucks.” You declare, your chopsticks attacking the innocent food on your plate as if it were the source of your frustration. A heavy exhale follows, a gust of annoyance and disappointment that echoes your sentiments louder than words ever could.
In the aftermath of your meal, a heavy silence descends as you both quietly consume the last moments of your enchanted getaway. Once the plates are cleared, a symphony of clinks and clatters follows as you meticulously dismantle the campsite and tidy up the van. 
Each fold of the bed, every item stowed away, feels like sealing away a fragment of the magic you’ve experienced.
As you pack with a heavy heart, the memories of this time resonate within you, a bittersweet melody. This retreat has been more than a mere escape; it’s been a rejuvenating balm for your weary soul. 
And unexpectedly, amid the rustling leaves and crackling campfire, you discovered more than tranquility—you got Yoongi, a devoted and caring partner who has etched himself into the canvas of your heart more than before.
As the final pieces are carefully stowed away, Yoongi’s voice breaks the silence, “Let’s head home.” 
Casting a wistful glance back at the forest, you feel a twinge of longing, realizing just how much you’ll miss this tranquil sanctuary. With a mix of reluctance and anticipation, you join Yoongi in Holly.
“I’m ready,” you declare, a determined spark in your eyes. 
“Let’s go.” You add, as if ushering in a new chapter, the engine’s hum signaling both an end and a beginning.
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In the whirlwind of days since Yoongi bid you farewell at your apartment, work has morphed into a chaotic dance of demands. Despite the relentless pace, your passion for your job propels you forward, a driving force pushing you through the challenges with unwavering determination.
The ache of missing Yoongi has become a relentless companion, one that tightens its grip especially during the chaotic intervals between your demanding job tasks. In the relentless storm of work, the absence of Yoongi weighs heavy on your heart. 
The saving grace amid the chaos is the lifeline of texts exchanged during your fleeting breaks—a comforting escape when the demands of your job threaten to engulf you completely.
Yoongi has been engulfed in a torrent of tasks himself, with a queue of eager customers awaiting the magic touch of his expertise. The relentless stream of demands has formed an impenetrable barrier, rendering it impossible for you to reunite with him since that bittersweet moment he dropped you off.
Exhausted from a taxing day at work—navigating irate customers and orchestrating the intricate dance of formulating next year’s marketing strategy—you feel the weariness etched into every fiber of your being. 
Yet, fueled by a deep longing to be with Yoongi, you summon the last reserves of your energy and embark on a drive to his garage.
The brief journey from your workplace to Yoongi’s garage unfolds in a mere 15 minutes, the streets whispering tales of anticipation beneath the tires of your car.
You enter through the door, finding Yoongi engaged in conversation with a client. A warm smile graces your lips as you exchange pleasantries. Yoongi, visibly taken aback by your unexpected visit, manages a surprised expression. Making your way to a cozy corner at the back of the garage, you settle into a small lounge area with a plush couch and a quaint table – a designated spot for clients to wait while Yoongi tends to their automotive needs.
The plushness of the couch cradles your body, its soft embrace a welcome comfort. You surrender to its inviting texture, your eyes drifting lazily downward as relaxation takes hold.
In the gentle embrace of slumber, time becomes a blur, and you awaken to a tender caress on your cheek. A radiant gummy smile and affectionate eyes welcome you back to consciousness.
“You didn’t have to make the trip if you’re exhausted, love.” He remarks with a soft chuckle, playfully poking your nose.
“I couldn’t wait to see you.” You admit with a playful pout, rising from the couch. Yoongi chuckles at your expression, then turns back to the car he was tending to while you napped.
You pull your gaze away from Yoongi’s enticing figure, a mischievous spark in your eyes. His black coveralls, stained with a mix of grease and oil, only seem to enhance his rugged appeal. The plain white shirt beneath, now more of an art canvas of his work, adds an unexpected allure. Unable to contain the fire building within, you confess, “You look so damn sexy in those black coveralls.”
His hair is tousled, as though his hands have navigated through it in moments of frustration. A subtle hint of anticipation makes you unconsciously lick your lips, and with deliberate steps, you close the distance between you.
Yoongi’s laughter resonates through the garage as he continues working beneath the hood of a sleek red car. Unconcerned about the specifics of the make or model, you saunter over, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Playfully, you grab hold of the belt loops on his coveralls, tugging him closer, his frame melding into yours with an enticing collision of desire.
A husky grunt escapes him, “I’m filthy, babe,” he warns, yet he willingly surrenders to the allure of your touch, leaning into the intimacy that lingers between you.
“I couldn’t care less.” 
You declare boldly, diving in for a kiss that speaks volumes of your longing. Your hands venture southward, seizing the firm curve of his ass, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him.
Abandoning his tools, he seizes your cheeks, intensifying the kiss with a hunger that mirrors a man starved for the taste of your touch.
“I missed you so much.” He breathes as he pulls away, gazing at you with a tender intensity in his eyes.
“Me too. Yoongi, I want you.” You plead, your hands tracing the contours of his body until they rest on his chest, where the steady beat of his heart becomes the rhythm to which your desires dance.
“Fuck. Now?” 
He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled hair, and you bite your lip, nodding with eyes that plead for the immediacy of desire.
“You’re so needy. I love it.” He murmurs before diving back into your mouth, a breathless kiss igniting between you. His hands find your ass, squeezing it possessively, eliciting a moan that vibrates through your bodies. 
He guides you toward a navy car, and as your legs meet the cool hood, he gently eases you down onto it. The surface sends a shiver in your spine, but the contrasting warmth of arousal floods your senses, creating a delicious tension in you.
You meet his gaze, finding his eyes already dilated and hooded, a hungry anticipation shimmering within them, ready to consume you whole.
His hungry gaze traces every curve of your body, and you catch the subtle motion of his tongue moistening his lips, a clear sign of the anticipation building within him.
He skillfully slips off your shoes, smoothly unzips your pants, and lets them cascade down your body, the fabric whispering against your skin before landing in an eager heap on the floor.
You draw your legs up, finding a perch on the sleek hood of the car, a tantalizing contrast of warmth against the cool metal that sends a shiver of anticipation through your body.
You part your legs, a silent invitation beckoning him to immerse himself in the feast that awaits, an unspoken promise lingering in the air.
“Damn. I can already see how wet you are, fuck,” he remarks, his gaze lingering on your wet panties before slowly dragging them down to join your pants on the floor.
His rough and calloused hands explore the warmth of your pussy, gently teasing your clit, eliciting a moan of pleasure from you. “Such a perfect little pussy. All mine,” his voice drips with possessiveness, sending a delicious shiver down your spine as a surge of lust courses through your body.
He gracefully drops to his knees, and in an electrifying moment, his warm, skilled mouth claims your pussy, causing an immediate arch in your back as waves of pleasure surge through your body.
His tongue dances expertly over your sensitive folds, collecting the intoxicating essence of your arousal, each stroke sending tremors of pleasure through your core.
��Fuck, Yoongi.” 
Passion courses through you, and you moan uncontrollably, your hands tangling in Yoongi’s hair as you pull, eliciting a deep groan from him, sending shivers of desire through your entire being.
The scenery is nothing short of breathtaking, a sinful feast for the eyes. As he gazes at you, those once deep brown eyes now bordering on black, you can’t help but feel a magnetic pull, an intensity that sets your heart ablaze.
His relentless suction is met with the playful dance of his tongue, teasingly exploring the depths of your pussy. The sensation is so intense that your eyes involuntarily roll to the back of your head, lost in the ecstasy of the moment.
“If you continue with that sinful tongue, I won’t be able to hold back much longer,” you pant above him, and you can practically feel the wicked smirk against your sensitive folds.
His nose occasionally brushes against your sensitive clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through your body, and you can feel yourself going feral with an overwhelming surge of arousal.
He skillfully switches it up, his hot mouth returning to your throbbing clit as two of his fingers expertly delve into your core. Your back arches instinctively, and you can’t help but moan his name, breathlessly exclaiming, “Shit, Yoongi!”
With a swift and deliberate motion, he thrusts his two fingers into you at a relentless pace, unerringly targeting your sweet spot from the very outset.
Sensations intensify; your clit pulsates with an insistent rhythm, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with each passing second. Every breath quickens, and it feels like you’re on the verge of snapping at any given moment.
“Shit, I’m coming!” 
You pant, your body thrashing above him, arching in the throes of ecstasy. A ringing noise echoes in your ears as he continues to lick you through the waves of your orgasm. When he finally pulls away, you find yourself instinctively closing your legs around him, overwhelmed by the lingering sensations of pleasure.
“Fucking hell, Yoongi. You are incredible with your mouth. Come here and give me a kiss.” 
You yank him up by his shirt and draw him in for a passionate kiss. You can taste the remnants of your essence on his lips, but you don’t mind.
He moans into your mouth and abruptly pulls away, fixing you with a gaze filled with both need and unbridled lust.
He tugs at your shirt, demanding, “This. Off.” 
Without hesitation, you comply, raising your arms for him to swiftly pull it over your head and drop it to the floor. Now seated on the hood of the car, clad only in your bra, you’re relieved to find that the metal beneath you has warmed, erasing any lingering chill.
He playfully gropes your breasts, his eyes smoldering with desire. 
“Off with this too,” he commands, a hunger evident in his voice.
You unclasp your bra, letting it fall down the car to the floor. Yoongi hisses as he takes in your fully naked body, “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
His words pierce through you, igniting a fire within, and you sense your nipples responding to his gaze, hardening with a subtle ache.
“Shit.” An involuntary moan escapes your lips, your body ablaze with sensation and desire.
“Why am I the only one naked again?” You chuckle seductively, fingers teasingly pulling at his coveralls.
You strip away his coveralls, letting them cascade to a pool at his feet. Now free from the constraints of it, he leans in for another intoxicating kiss, the air charged with the promise of desire.
You notice the unmistakable outline of his dick through his boxers, and you teasingly pull away, whispering with a seductive smirk, “Those need to go.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice, swiftly dragging the fabric down his legs to join the rest of your clothes on the floor.
You eagerly tug at his shirt, mirroring the way he assisted you earlier, revealing the contours of his body free from the constraints of the grease-stained fabric.
You glide your hands over his sculpted chest, tracing the lines of his toned torso and the softness of his tummy, evoking a light chuckle from him. “Damn, you’re irresistible,” you moan. “Every inch of you, I love.” Your whispered words in his ear accompany a firm grasp on his throbbing cock, teasing it with a few playful strokes.
He seizes your breasts, skillfully rolling a sensitive nipple between his fingers, eliciting a sensual moan of pleasure from your lips.
He gently guides you back, allowing your hair to cascade around your face, creating a frame that accentuates the desire etched in your features.
As he explores the curves of your body with one hand, the other skillfully strokes his dick, aligning himself with the heat of your eager folds.
Your patience wearing thin, you feel his tantalizing cock on your folds, gathering traces of your essence. The plea escapes your lips, “Please, just fuck me already.”
He indulges in a lustful chuckle, his words dripping with desire, “So needy and impatient.” 
He glides into your warmth with a single, seamless thrust, reaching the hilt effortlessly. A moan of pleasure escapes your lips, savoring the exquisite sensation of how perfectly he stretches you.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a firm grip on your hips. The car sways and rocks in sync with each powerful thrust, creating a symphony of passion and movement.
The intensity builds, and you gasp, questioning between pants, “The car’s in park, right?” as he unerringly targets your sweet spot, delivering each stroke with precision and pleasure.
He chuckles between breaths, his laughter a sensual melody in the air, “Yeah, it’s not going anywhere.”
Lost in the ecstasy, unsure where to anchor yourself, your hands find solace on his strong arms, gripping tightly as if to merge with the intensity of the moment.
As he relentlessly pounds into you, your intoxicating moans harmonize with the rhythm, your velvet walls clenching around him, eliciting a hiss from his lips. “You’re always so damn tight,” he growls, the raw desire in his voice echoing the fervor of your entwined bodies.
“Hey, Yoongi,” caught off guard, you hear a familiar voice calling Yoongi’s name from behind. Your heart races, realizing it’s too late to shield yourself from the waves of embarrassment flooding over you. Mortification takes hold, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.
“I wanted to see if you were done with my car.” Jungkook’s voice startles you, and as you turn, you’re met with wide-eyed disbelief written all over his face. He stands not far away, his eyes seemingly on the verge of popping out of their sockets. With a gaping mouth, he appears utterly speechless.
“Ah–, Jungkook…” caught in a scandalous embrace with Yoongi, the sudden intrusion of Jungkook startles a moan from your lips. Your eyes lock with his, and as Yoongi continues his relentless pace, the intensity of Jungkook’s unwavering gaze heightens the illicit thrill. 
Your body responds, walls clenching around Yoongi, a confusing mixture of embarrassment and arousal coursing through you. 
Why isn’t Jungkook looking away? 
And why, against all logic, does it only turn you on even more? Fuck.
As the symphony of primal sounds, a mixture of Yoongi’s guttural groans and the rhythmic slapping noises, reverberates through the garage, Jungkook finally seems to snap out of his trance.
“Fucking shit, I’m so sorry!” 
Fumbling for apologies, Jungkook hastily covers his eyes and spins around, as if attempting to erase the explicit scene he’s unintentionally stumbled upon. 
“I’ll come back later!” He shouts, almost sprinting out of the garage, leaving an awkward air lingering in his wake.
Yoongi’s powerful thrusts continue, unyielding. He leans down, his intense gaze fixating on your face. His voice, low and venomous, slices through the heated air, commanding, “Never moan another man’s name again,” as if marking his territory with each impassioned word.
In the absence of your response, his hands assertively claim your breasts, skillfully pinching both nipples. An involuntary twist of pain courses through you, a visceral reaction to his unrelenting touch.
“Did you hear me?” 
His voice cuts through the charged air, a stern demand echoing in the garage, his eyes eclipsed by a profound intensity that demands your attention.
“Fuck! Yes! I won’t do it again!” 
In a breathless chorus of affirmation, you surrender, the raw urgency in your voice harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of your panting breaths as the impending release surges through you.
With a final series of primal thrusts, he withdraws from the depths of your pussy, leaving you tingling, breathless and confused.
“Follow me,” his command hangs in the air, and with a firm yet gentle pull, he guides you off the car and onto your unsteady feet.
As he guides you through the garage, both of you naked and exposed, you can’t help but inquire breathlessly, “Should we lock the door?”
He smirks, his voice a low rasp as you arrive at his office. 
“I don’t give a fuck.” He declares, the audacity in his gaze intensifying. “Seems like you like being watched. Just like in the forest, huh? Don’t think I didn’t feel you clench around me as Jungkook watched you get fucked.” 
With purpose, he propels you toward the couch in his office, ruthlessly clearing half of its contents to the floor. Pillows and discarded clothes cascade, creating a scattered pool at your feet.
In a low, demanding tone, he orders, “On all fours. Couch. Now.” 
As you hasten to comply, he positions himself just behind you, prompting a swift bend on his firm couch. The assertive grip on your ass intensifies, sending shivers down your spine.
“I’m going to fuck a baby into you.” 
He pants, desire thick in his voice as he strokes his dick, aligning once more with your eager pussy. “Make you nice and round, babe,” he grunts, the raw intensity of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure through you as he effortlessly slips back into the depth of your core.
“Fuck!” The sensation is even more constricting than before, and the provocative baby talk is pushing you to the edge. It’s utterly sinful, igniting something primal within you.
He pins you forcefully against the unforgiving couch, driving your head down, each powerful thrust causing it to shift and creak in protest, mirroring the intensity of your entwined passion.
Your senses are on the verge of overload, the relentless pleasure almost too much to bear. Thoughts dissolve into a blissful haze, and all that remains is the exquisite sensation of him sliding perfectly between your thighs.
“I bet you’ll look so incredible carrying our baby,” he pants, his grip tightening on a makeshift ponytail of your hair as he pulls you upwards with a low moan.
“Fuck!” 
You arch your back, relishing the delicious pull on your scalp that sends electrifying shivers down your spine.
You’re completely lost, a symphony of pants and moans escaping your lips. All you can do is surrender to the overwhelming sensation of his incredible thrusts.
His fingers leave a fiery trail as they wander from your hair to one of your breasts, teasingly groping. “Damn, your breasts will get bigger too,” he breathes, his words a sultry promise echoing in the heated air.
“Though I like them just as they are.” He murmurs in rhythm with a punctuated thrust, his voice a seductive melody harmonizing with the passionate dance between you.
At the sound of his words, a surge of desire courses through you, causing your walls to instinctively clench around him. He responds with a sharp intake of breath, a symphony of pleasure echoing in the intimate space between you.
“You like this, don’t you?” 
His voice, low and sultry, fills the room as he pulls on your hair once more, a tantalizing twist that sends a shiver down your spine. A subtle burn lingers, a delicious reminder of the electrifying sensations between you.
His name escapes your lips in a breathless moan of agreement, words failing to convey the intensity of the moment.
As he relinquishes his grip on your hair and breasts, his hands now firmly anchored on your hips, he rasps, “You look forward to being all puffy and swollen, don’t you?” 
His voice carries a seductive promise that sends shivers down your spine.
As the peak of pleasure beckons, the intoxicating blend of his presence within you and his lascivious words has you teetering on the edge. It’s as if the mere fusion of his dick in your pussy and the erotic cadence of his dirty words might propel you into climax without any further touch.
Attempting to vocalize your pleasure, a choked moan escapes your lips, a visceral symphony echoing the tightening coil of your body.
As he relentlessly thrusts, plunging into the depths of your pussy, he smirks and provocatively questions, “Are you coming, babe?”
In a fervor, you attempt to nod, your head resting down on the couch, eyes tightly shut, and hands clenched in the grip of pleasure.
His voice rumbles with desire as he commands, “Come on my dick,” his grip on your hips tightening, forcefully pulling you onto him, the unmistakable sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through his office.
You release the tightly wound coil within you, and a warm flood of your essence envelops his pulsating dick. Colors dance before your eyes, a vivid symphony of sensations, as he, too, begins the pursuit of his own intoxicating climax.
His fervent praise echoes through the room as your moans and pants harmonize with the symphony of pleasure. 
“Shit, you feel so good.” His words, like a sultry melody, intensify the rhythm of ecstasy.
His raspy voice, saturated with pleasure, reverberates in the air as he relentlessly delves deep, bringing you to the brink. “Almost there, babe,” the promise of climax hangs in the room, each thrust a pulsating step toward an imminent release.
His fingers carve ephemeral imprints into the canvas of your hips, a testament to the intensity of his grip. With a primal and forceful thrust, he spills into you, a guttural exclamation escaping his lips, “Fucking shit!”
He persists in his rhythmic thrusts, a seamless dance that continues for what feels like an eternity. The symphony of heavy panting fills the air, a harmonious testament to the intoxicating pleasure enveloping both of you.
As he tenderly withdraws from the embrace of your walls, a bittersweet ache lingers. 
The ebbing warmth of his departure leaves a void, and you sense the telltale trickle of his semen tracing a tantalizing path down your trembling thighs. His appreciative hisses and groans echo the shared intimacy, turning the aftermath into a mosaic of shared passion.
With a resounding smack, he playfully ignites the fire beneath your skin, “You look so hot like this,” he remarks, his words carrying a teasing heat that matches the fiery imprint on your ass.
With a mischievous twirl, you shake your ass provocatively, a sassy smirk dancing on your lips, “Don’t I always look hot?”
He chuckles at your brattiness, delivering another firm slap to your ass, “Always, and I can’t get enough of you.”
You finally turn around, sitting down on the couch, to face him, licking your lips with a mischievous glint in your eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Yoongi,” your voice filled with a mix of passion and sincerity that leaves no room for doubt.
He smiles, his touch tracing a delicate path along your cheek, “Fuck, I love you too, babe,” his words carrying the weight of a thousand emotions, a confession that lingers in the air like a sweet promise.
Love saturates the atmosphere, wrapping around you both so tightly that the soft rumble from your stomach escapes like a playful secret, painting a grin on his already handsome face.
Your stomach protests again with a subtle growl, and he chuckles, the sound like a melody blending with the tender kiss he places on your lips. 
“Hungry, babe?” he teases, the warmth of his laughter echoing the affection in the air.
Amidst the afterglow, you share a playful chuckle, the joyous sound filling the room. 
“Yes, I’m starving,” you confess, relishing the delightful nakedness and the shared intimacy of the moment.
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As the Friday sun dips below the city skyline, a wave of contentment washes over you. 
Work today was surprisingly pleasant, but what truly fuels your excitement is the anticipation of reuniting with your friends at the bar later. The prospect of laughter and camaraderie lights up your evening horizon.
After a demanding day at work, you sought refuge in the comforting embrace of Yoongi’s home. The soft sanctuary of his sheets cradles you, offering solace and a much-needed respite from the challenges of the day.
As you reluctantly peel yourself away from the embrace of the bed, a tangle of limbs and sheets left in the wake of a time filled with passion, you’re greeted by the stark reality of time ticking away. Your naked form, a canvas marked by the shared intensity, moves with purpose. In the urgency to locate your scattered clothes, a playful smile dances on your lips. 
“We have to get ready now, or else Hoseok will kill us if we’re late!”
“We’ll make it,” his laughter, a melodic assurance, echoes through the room as you engage in a hasty scavenger hunt for the garments that will shield your modesty. 
Triumphantly seizing the clothes, there’s a playful finesse to your actions as you toss his attire in his direction, a comical dance of urgency and amusement. 
With effortless efficiency, you transform from the cozy intimacy of his home to the bustling anticipation of the cityscape. Your steps echo determination, a rhythm set by the pulse of the impending night. Brisk and purposeful, you navigate the urban terrain, a seamless transition from the quiet haven of his house to the lively rhythm of the city streets. 
The search for a bus becomes a quest, an adventure laced with the promise of vibrant encounters awaiting you in the heart of the metropolis.
Entwined in the lively hum of the crowded bus, you and Yoongi carve out a cozy haven amidst the kaleidoscope of humanity. Hand in hand, your fingers dance in silent symphony, finding solace in the familiar warmth of each other’s touch. With your head nestled on his shoulders, you embark on the journey to the bar to meet up with your friends.
As you step into the lively ambiance of the bar, the infectious melody of your friends’ laughter orchestrates a beacon, guiding you unerringly to their gathering. Their exuberant joy reverberates in the air, making them a vibrant constellation impossible to overlook amidst the bustling backdrop of the bar’s chatter and clinking glasses.
“Hi,” you join the lively cluster of your friends with a warm greeting, sliding seamlessly into the open space next to Jungkook, who graciously makes room for both you and Yoongi. 
A subtle, rosy hue paints Jungkook’s cheeks a bright red, mirroring the flush that graces your own face as you and he share a shy glance, deliberately sidestepping prolonged eye contact in the midst of the gathering.
“You’re late,” Hoseok’s voice carries a mockingly stern tone as he playfully rolls his eyes at your belated entrance, his knowing gaze signaling that he’s well aware of the delightful reason behind your tardiness.
“Hey,” a collective greeting resonates from the group, their eyes discreetly flickering between you and Yoongi, deliberately sidestepping Hoseok’s playful comment.
Your warm smile encompasses the group as you inquire, “How have you all been?” 
Your eyes sweep across each face, a genuine affection evident, and you add, “I’ve missed you.”
Namjoon passes a pair of beers your way, and with a subtle gesture, you gracefully direct yours to Yoongi, ensuring he has two. Opting for a bottle of water, your choice doesn’t escape Namjoon’s notice, though he maintains a thoughtful silence.
Jungkook, still blushing beside you, stammers out, “It’s going well. I’ve landed more modeling gigs, and some are even international!” He chirps with infectious happiness, sharing his success with the group.
“Wow, that’s incredible, Kook,” you pat him on the shoulders, your touch conveying genuine pride and admiration. Feeling him tense beneath your hand, you can’t help but marvel at how he’s fearlessly pursued his dreams.
“The trip was amazing; I actually got contacted because of the pictures I uploaded to my Instagram,” he boasts with pride, and the table erupts in cheers. Everyone is genuinely happy for him, celebrating his success. 
You can’t help but notice his still lingering blush and how he subtly avoids making eye contact with you.
You shift your gaze to Hoseok, who’s casually sipping his beer. Sensing your lingering attention, he speaks, “Not much has changed since our last chat,” a warm smile playing on his lips.
You chuckle and take a sip of your water, scooting closer to Yoongi at your side, the warmth between you growing with every inch.
Seokjin’s infectious chuckles draw you in, the sound a delightful melody weaving through the air. “When I came home, my girlfriend had orchestrated a full-scale rearrangement of our entire apartment,” he shares, laughter dancing in his eyes. 
“I thought the nesting phase happened later in the pregnancy, but now I don’t know where my stuff is, and neither does she.” The room erupts in laughter, and you find yourself clutching your stomach, the ache from amusement almost as sweet as the camaraderie in the moment.
“That sucks man,” Taehyung remarks, his laughter lingering in the air.
“What about you Tae?” Namjoon asks him with a smile.
“Ah, life’s the same old rollercoaster, but that vacation? Absolutely necessary.” He shares, his smile a vibrant punctuation to the story in his eyes.
“Spill the tea, Joonie. What’s been brewing in your world since we got back?” Yoongi takes a leisurely sip of his beer, a conspiratorial glint in his eye as he nudges Namjoon, inviting a glimpse into the tapestry of his recent adventures.
“I took that girl from the dating app out on a date,” he confesses, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Turns out, she’s not just nice; we’re practically living parallel lives. It’s uncanny how much we have in common.”
“That’s wonderful, Joonie!” you beam like a lovesick fool. “I’m genuinely thrilled for you. Wishing you all the best, and I hope things work out perfectly for you two.”
Wrapped in Yoongi’s comforting embrace, you surrender to the warmth, a lovesick fool drowning in the bliss of his arms.
You catch the heavy sigh escaping Jimin’s lips as he nurses his beer, and with a knowing look, he confesses, “The vacation was incredible, but reality hits hard. Work hasn’t changed a bit, and I’m already feeling drained,” he laments, taking another sip of his beer.
Seokjin raises an eyebrow, taking a hearty gulp of his beer, “Why the hell is your face as red as a tomato, Kook? What’s wrong?”
Everyone’s gaze converges on the youngest, and the deepening shade of his blush is impossible to ignore. You sense the topic at hand, your cheeks mirroring the rosy hue. Yoongi, nonchalant, chuckles beside you, adding to the collective curiosity in the room.
“Why the laughter, Yoongi?” Namjoon quirks an eyebrow inquisitively. 
As he scans the expressions on both you and Jungkook’s faces, it becomes evident how you both go out of your way to avoid each other’s eyes.
“Something definitely went down between you two,” Hoseok chimes in, his voice filled with playful curiosity.
Jimin suddenly becomes intensely interested, leaning over the table to scrutinize both you and Jungkook. “Spill the details,” he demands with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Nothing happened!” Jungkook blurts out, raising his arms in a hasty defense, desperately trying to shield his crimson face. You, on the other hand, find solace in staring at the floor, unable to meet the curious gazes probing at your secret.
The guys persistently badger Jungkook for more information, but he clams up, sealing his lips tighter than a vault. Frustrated, their attention shifts to Yoongi once again.
Yoongi, nonchalant, raises his beer to his lips for another sip before casually revealing, “He saw us fuck.”
Jungkook lets out a dramatic groan, his hands shielding his eyes as if the vivid image of you and Yoongi in the throes of sex is still burned into his mind. The other guys, practically choking on their beers, sport eyes as wide as teacups, thoroughly amused by the revelation.
“What?” Taehyung practically yells, laughter bubbling up so much that his eyes glisten with tears. He turns to Jungkook with an incredulous expression, as if seeking confirmation for the unbelievable revelation.
“Why the hell were you watching them?” He interrogates Jungkook, genuine curiosity mirrored in the eyes of the entire group.
Jungkook finally glances at the group, his voice trailing off hesitantly, “I came to pick up my car at Yoongi hyung’s garage…” His eyes wander across the faces of the group, finally locking onto yours.
“And they were... at it,” his eyes reflect a blend of hurt and discomfort, “on the hood of my damn car,” he states with a stern and definitive tone.
A collective gasp fills the room, and all eyes turn towards you. 
Your gaze immediately drops to the floor. 
The realization hits you like a ton of bricks – it was Jungkook’s car. 
The hurt in his eyes now makes sense; he adores that car. The frustration builds as you grasp that Yoongi was well aware, yet said nothing! There will definitely be a conversation about this later, dammit.
“Gross!” Taehyung scowls and audibly scoffs, taking an exaggerated sip of his beer to mask the disbelief etched on his face.
Seokjin shakes his head in amused disbelief, his words carrying a playful scolding. “Aish, you’re not teenagers anymore! You’re in your thirties for God’s sake.” Laughter erupts from Teahyung, Namjoon, Jimin, and Hoseok, echoing the sentiment.
Namjoon bursts into earnest laughter, his words carrying a teasing tone. “Forgot to lock the door? Rookie mistake.”
Jimin raises his beer high in the air, a mischievous glint in his eye. “A toast!” you all turn towards him, curious about the unexpected celebration.
“To ___!” Jimin bellows, breaking the silence, and with some hesitation, the rest of the group chimes in, including Yoongi. You can only watch them with a mix of surprise and amusement.
“She finally got that office fuck!” Jimin exclaims with contagious joy, and the rest of the group erupts in laughter so uproarious that it turns heads throughout the entire bar.
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Author’s note (2): OMG! This is the end of Friendcation 😭 What a wild ride it has been to write it. But so, so good. What first started as an idea because my sister and brother-in-law were going on a roadtrip in their van around Europe, birthed this lovely story 😭
I truly want to say a big enormous thank you, to you. Yes, you! Thank you so much for all the time you have spent reading this series – I really hoped you liked it. I appreciate every single one of you, you guys are amazing 💜
If you liked it, please consider commenting (even an emoji is fine!), or reblogging or getting in touch with me in an ask – I don’t bite, I’m very nice I promise. It’s also completely fine if you don’t want to do any of those things too, no pressure!
Please stay happy and healthy 💜
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andy-wm ¡ 7 months
Text
3D by JK (feat. JH) - my take.
Ok, unpopular opinion maybe, and I might get my ass beaten for this (not in a good way 🤣)
Feel free to disagree RESPECTFULLY.
Disclaimer: If anyone comes at me with that cancel bullshit I will block you, because we all get to have an opinion.
If my post enrages you, scroll past until you can be civil, then come back and talk. Or block me. I dont mind.
And don't tell me that because I don't love this song I have to hand in my ARMY card... I'm not going to.
🙂💜🙂
I'll start by saying I love JK so, so much. Adore him. Will always support him.
But for me, 3D is a misstep.
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My feeling is Hybe should have reconsidered releasing it as it is.
JK's lyrics are fun and sexy. The innuendo is on point. The melody is great and the chorus has excellent sing-along value. Even though I'm not a huge pop music fan, I like the vibe.
The MV dancers are awesome, and I got a kick out of the fire hydrant metaphor.
And in that jacket with nothing under it, JK looks hot enough to melt asphalt.
However....
Including Jack Harlow's rap IMO is a mistake. It sucks, frankly. Not in a good way.
It not only misses the mark on the tone of the rest of the song but his lyrics are really just offensive. Misogynistic. And racial refrences are just... not cricket. It's 2023 not 1995, regardless of what his hairstyle tells you.
His lyrics sound like an incel bragging about their sex life when all they've ever done is watch porn. From his words, I doubt he knows how to please any person but himself.
His message is gross, but its still just... generic. Like he went to urban dictionary for spicy language and then googled how to treat women like shit. There's nothing original about what he's saying. He's not even being gross in an intersting way. It's gross AND boring.
(Jack, if you're reading this, sorry my guy you gotta do better.)
I've been army since 2018 and this is the first BTS song I have tried to find merit in and given up.
I honestly tried to be into it and i just... can't. It doesn't sit well with me.
This is a new experience for me because even when BTS release something i don't immediately love, i still stream and watch and let it sink in, or I work on figuring out what I am missing and why it's ACTUALLY good even if i can't grasp it.
This... it's just... not good, in my opinion.
I have to clarify here...
It isn't about explicit content, i am totally down for that. If anyone read my post on Seven, they will know my response to that song. In a nutshell, I believe all adults who want to, should happily and shamelessly be doing ALL the horizontal tango. Every type, every day, in every way. With anyone and everyone they fancy as long as all parties are informed and consenting adults who are equally enjoying the experience.
Yes. I am all about getting down.
That doesn't mean treating your partners like a body count or using and abusing them with no consideration. That's not cool.
**PSA: please be safe and use protection. Get tested regularly if you have multiple partners. Don't do anything you don't feel good about and dont stay with partners who harm or manipulate you 💜**
Now, back to the smut.
Some criticisms i saw of Seven were about how dirty it was. A few people were upset because JK said fuck, and because he sang about how and when he liked to fuck. But more criticism was levelled at Letto. Why?
It seemed like it was because she's a woman, singing about sex.
Letto totally owns her sexuality and she knows what she wants. I snorted with delight at how deliciously filthy her lyrics were. Some very clever wordplay made her verse so visceral, and pretty shocking to the pearl-clutchers, without her ever saying anything directly. I really enjoyed it.
She was telling us straight up how good she is in bed. Good for her. She totally rocks. And she wasn't disrespecting anyone. She didn't need to do that to make herself cool AF.
The difference between Letto's rap and jack harlow's is that jack sounds like he's just looking at the women he's singing about as a hole to stick his dick in. Women have fought for long enough for equality and respect. They don't need this bullshit. You can sing about getting down, and you can be absolutely filthy and nasty and wild, and you can do it without degrading your partners.
I did read a theory about this song being social commentary on toxic masculinity. You can find it here and you can read it below:
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Its not bad as a theory. At least it wouldn't be if Namjoon or Yoongi or Hobi - or Jungkook himself - had written the song. If that were the situation we'd see some inkling of self awareness in the rap, and maybe a hint of character development. But there's none.
Sorry ARMY, this is not the class of lyricism we have come to expect.
If jack is trying to make a social statement^*, or play a character, he is not succeeding in showing any growth or humanity at all. He's really just that stereotype.
In the last few lines, after he offers to fly his victim from Korea to Kentucky, he says "and you ain’t gotta guarantee me nothing I just wanna see if I get lucky."
How considerate...
All I see is zero care factor about the actual person he's trying to get with. Which is quite different from JK's lyrics, which show awareness that he's interacting with a conscious, living human being, not a piece of furniture.
jack follows with "I just wanna meet you in the physical and see if you would touch me"
Ugh. Not with a ten foot pole, douchebag.
And how about, in his first verse "All my ABGs get cute for me"
Good god, really? Is he seriously saying this?
So its a no for me.
The ONLY saving grace is that there's an alternative version which is pretty fun. It's almost as if Hybe knew we would hate the version with jack harlow. Wow, such insight!
Now, i know that's not the only reason they made an alternative. They needed a clean version for US radio play (let's be real, what possible other purpose can this song serve? *°)
But they could have censored jack's... actually they couldn't. The rap verses can't be salvaged. They genuinely have no merit, the only hope for the song is totally removing them.
What does that tell you?
ARMY will no doubt still chart the main track but personally, I would feel morally compromised if i supported that version. So I'll stick to the alternative and hope for better things to come.
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^* Stylecaster doesnt think so either. I visited their website to check thr lyrics. They said, of D3, "Meanwhile, Jack Harlow brings the cool with his two verses as he raps about all the women he could pull"
Uh, really? I hope that's intended to be ironic.
*° The MV had only 4.5million views after 12 hours. And we know what brilliant strategists Hybe employs. I am travelling in Korea right now. There was no promo visible here. And it was no accident that it was released at lunchtime on Chuseok - the biggest famiily holiday of the year - when relatively few people in Korea would be available to engage with it. THEY KNEW IT WAS A STINKER.
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asimpwithfreetime ¡ 1 year
Note
yandere neteyam pursuing na'vi reader. she resists at first because he comes on too rough but she eventually falls in love and they have a family.
love your work and thank you for more yandere neteyam content, such a struggle to find 🥰🥰
Thank you so much! 💜 Sounds good.
Sweetheart, you are mine and you know it (Yandere! Neteyam x Fem! Reader)
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Summary: The new Olo’eyktan, Neteyam, at the peer age of 20 has yet to find his mate. The only woman who he is interested in, Y/n, doesnt want him. The only thing is that he doesn’t take no for an answer.
Warnings: yandere behavior, obsessive Neteyam, stalking, Neteyam being a little bit cocky, manipulative Neteyam + threatening
This hasn’t been proofread yet
[ 3rd Person POV ]
Y/n was born Omatikaya. She grew from an energetic and talkative Na’vi child to a stunning and calmer Na’vi woman. Adulthood had made her beautify stand out.
Every young man of the omatikaya clan had at least thought once about mating with her, even Lo’ak. But they knew that the Olo’eyktan, Neteyam, had been courting her for quite a time now. She had always turned him down, nonetheless. But he had never stopped trying.
Men knew better than to try to get between those two. They knew what Neteyam was able to do, not only he was the Olo’eyktan but one of the best warriors and if during the war against humans in Metkayina territory he could kill various Na’vi adults at the age of 15, they didn’t wanna know what he could do now at the age of 20.
“But pleaseeee” people rolled their eyes at Neteyam’s pleas, anyone could hear them. It was part of his new plan. Instead of pursuing her stalking (since it didn’t go as planned) he would just put social pressure and manipulation onto her. Sooner or later she would say yes, wouldn’t she?
“Neteyam, I am not interested in you” she responded for the hundredth time that day. “Why not? I am all you want and you know it” he smirked. “Ugh! Shut up!” She ended it there before going off to finish her chores.
Night fell and after the communal dinner Neteyam began with his courting again. “Listen, Y/n I am going to set things straight, I want to be your mate and you are obviously ignoring me” he made her follow him to a more secluded area. “But you are going to be mine, sweetheart” he cockily smiled.
Y/n looked at him bewildered. “Haven’t you guessed it? Everyone knows I am after you, no other male nor female will try to mate with you knowing that you have been chosen by me! Do you wanna dishonor your family by dying without a mate? You want to be ashamed of yourself for the rest of your life? Or are you going to choose the Olo’eyktan that has been after you for two fucking years” he roughly finished his speech, cornering her against Hometree.
“You will be mine sooner or later” he smiled at her, but his smile was dark, mysterious and dangerous. Y/n gulped down and looked at him in the eyes. “You will see that you love me” he smiled cheekily while walking away. Y/n sighed loudly once she was left alone.
After months and months of trying, Y/n finally mated him. Neteyam was so happy he felt he was in a dream. People were shocked when the news spread. Nobody would even know if he was able to win Y/n’s heart, guilt trip her or the burn out was so that she just accepted to never hear it again.
Years later, Y/n brought to the world their first born. It was a girl, Neteyam insisted in calling her Trudy as his father always had talked about her with him. Y/n accepted. Trudy was born as the first born of the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya and she would be the Tsa’hìk in the future.
She was treated nicely with a calm and collected mom and an overprotective dad. She always asked the story of how they fell in love and such and Y/n could only respond with a sigh before giving her a sweet smile and saying “he never accepts “no” as an answer”. Trudy would laugh about it, her innocent and naïve kid brain not understanding the undertone of her mother. “I tried to tell him no and shoo him away, but to no use”.
“You are mine and you know it, sweetheart” Neteyam laughed while hugging his wife “you were mine the second I laid my eyes on you”.
“And now we have a small princess I’ll take care of” he then picked his daughter up. “Nothing and no one will come between my princesses and me”.
Avatar Taglist: @amerieee @simp-erformarvelwomen
Yandere Avatar Taglist <3: @jkeluv @penquinsqge
743 notes ¡ View notes
twignotstick ¡ 2 months
Text
Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)
Part 3 💜 | Part 1 <- 🧡 | Part 2 <- 💙
Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I wrote this as my love letter to the story and the characters. Especially April :)
Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Donnie & April, April & the Turtles, NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, recovery (hehehehehe), talking it out because we're adults, skating, social avoidance? idk how to tag that
Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): yelling, some violent actions
Words: 2,065
Summary: April was able to figure out her first brother easily. Now, she gets three more, with a couple more issues to worry about.
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One brother was already a lot. He was sweet, if a little violent. April was content with one brother.
Then she found out he had two more. Lost in their youth, taken away, never to be seen again. Suddenly, one wasn't enough. April wanted three brothers.
So she got them. One by one, she welcomed her new brothers into their home. She helped them feel safe and welcomed. And, in turn, they helped her learn her place as a big sister.
Now, four? Four whole brothers? That was pushing it.
Donnie was a wild card. Some days, he'd bounce around madly, blabbering about whatever “improvements” he'd made in the lair (always putting Splinter on edge, yet he could never find any problems with whatever Donnie did, probably because his brothers did damage control before he could catch it). Other days, he'd literally hiss at April until she left. Not just left the lair; left the sewers.
This day was supposed to be one of those days. Donnie was visibly shaking with all the pent up energy in him. The brothers had apparently had an “intervention” with Donnie after the previous night, when he had almost broken a major support beam in the lair just so he could collapse it on April. Now, he wasn't allowed to show violence to April in any form for a whole week. In exchange, he'd be allowed to take a single blood sample from each of his brothers, which was the weirdest trade April had ever heard. But Donnie really wanted it.
And boy, was it hard for him.
“Did you see that?! Did you see? I totally landed that one!” Mikey yelped, shaking on his skateboard.
“Good job, big man.” Raph stepped up beside him, lightly touching Mikey's shoulder and making his eyes widen as he tried to maintain his balance.
Mikey had been wanting to practice his skate tricks, and Raph wanted to make sure he did it in a safe environment. The skate ramp in the lair was perfect. Even if they were just practicing kickflips at the bottom, it was safe and contributed to good vibes.
While Raph and Mikey stood at the bottom, April, Leo, and Donnie sat at the top with their legs dangling beneath them. Well, April and Leo's legs were dangling. Donnie was perched up like a frog, knees thrown out to the sides and his hands curled on the edge of the ramp. Leo, of course, was between him and his self proclaimed mortal enemy, absorbing as much murderous intent as he could. It was a lot, to put it nicely.
“Do you think he'll ever actually get to use the ramp?” Leo asked, enjoying the spectacle of his youngest brother getting properly babied by his oldest.
“Four is definitely tough enough to survive a fall from this height,” Donnie responded cheerily. “His shell is the best of all of us. A human, on the other hand, would likely get severely injured if they were to be shoved off the edge.” His face grew the slightest grin at the imaginary violence.
“Watch the language.” Leo raised a brow to Donnie. “And it's Mikey, remember? Not Four.”
“R-right!” Donnie stammered, patting his hands on the side of the ramp. “Four is Mikey.”
“No, Mikey is Mikey. His name isn't Four, and it never was. Just like my name isn't Two, Raph's name isn't One, and your name isn't Three. You're our brother. Donatello.”
Leo was getting slightly agitated, and Donnie- or maybe Three- was starting to fidget and rock back and forth. It was clear that Leo wanted Donnie to just give up all this number talk and act like their childhoods hadn't happened. But that was just an impossible task. April could tell that this situation would be quick to spiral.
“Hey, uh, Leo?” April asked, getting his attention.
“Yes?”
“Betcha can't do an ollie.”
Leo turned fully to face April. “A what?”
“I-it's a skateboard trick…” Donnie said, causing Leo's attention to whip around again. “F- Mikey showed me a couple days ago.”
“Oh.” Leo's brow ridges tightened as he whipped back to face April. “You think I can't pull some stupid skate trick? You are so on.” Leo slid down the ramp, using his carapace like a sled. “Mikey! Give me your board!”
Donnie watched him slide down with wide eyes. “Has he… ever skated before?” He asked, mildly concerned.
“Nope. Never even touched a board.” April smirked. “He's gonna be stuck down there for at least an hour.” She looked over at Donnie, who was gazing down at his brothers with a lost glaze over his eyes.
“You wanna go join them, Donnie?”
The softshell's neck popped as he snapped to glare at April. The murderous intent that had been building suddenly channeled into his face, and he growled before standing up and stomping away swiftly toward his recently decorated room.
April glanced down at the three brothers having fun, then pushed herself up to follow the one who wasn't.
“Wait, Donnie! What's wrong? I-”
“Stop.” The turtle hissed, not turning around to face her.
“Stop? Donnie, what did I-”
“I SAID STOP IT! STOP CALLING ME THAT!” He pressed the heels of his hands into the sides of his head.
“What do you mean? Just tell me what's-”
The turtle turned on his heel in the doorframe. “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I don't know how to put it in a way your STUPID HUMAN BRAIN WILL UNDERSTAND!” His face morphed into a manic grin. “Goodbye! So long! Sayonara! Toodaloo! GET OUT OF MY FACE!”
The door slammed shut, and April was left breathless.
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April came back the next day to a much quieter lair. The boys were keeping space from each other, whether consciously or not. Raph was wandering around, trying to act like everything was okay. Leo was training in the dojo. Mikey was spending more time around Splinter than he usually did.
The final brother was still locked in his room.
April decided to join Mikey to bring him his second meal of the day. The first one, a small plate of rice, was still outside the door, now cold and dry.
Mikey knocked lightly, barely tapping the door with his knuckles. “Donnie?” He whispered. “I've got more food for you. It's your favorite- flavorless mush! I tested it myself, no taste at all. I promise!”
The offer was met with silence.
Mikey sighed and let his shoulders slump, backing away from the door. “I just don't get it,” he muttered pathetically. “He hasn't even come out to pee, April. Do you think he's just peeing in a cup? Or a corner? Does Donnie have a pee corner that we don't know about?”
“Mikey, it's okay.” April grabbed his shoulder. “First of all, yes, he probably does, and that just means we get to bond over cleaning his room when this is over. Second, you shouldn't have to worry about this.”
“I'm so sorry, April.” Mikey looked down to his feet. “I don't know why he hates you so much. Maybe if we hadn't-”
“Don't apologize,” April interrupted. “If anyone needs to apologize, it's me.”
Mikey looked back up at his big sister with wide eyes. “Why?”
She sighed. “Because I did something wrong.” April took the food from Mikey's hands. “I'll get him to eat. I'll text you if things go super wrong, but otherwise, ignore any loud noises. I have a feeling this might get… violent.”
Mikey puffed his chest. “Roger, roger!” He saluted and rushed down the hall, supposedly to find Raph and warn him of April's plan before he could start panicking.
April stood next to the door. “Hey, bud,” she started. “It's April. I've got your food, and I'm not gonna leave until you let me in to give it to you.”
After about two minutes of just standing there and getting no response, April sat down. She would say something every few minutes, just to remind him she was still there.
48 minutes later, the lock clicked.
April opened the door slowly. Glancing around the room, she could see the state of disarray it was in. Clothes carpeted the floor, as well as abandoned scrap projects. The turtle was cloaked beneath blankets on his bed, only his bright eyes glaring out at the invader.
She left the door open and stood to the side, getting just close enough. She didn't want him to feel threatened or trapped. She placed the (well cold by now) food next to the growling blanket pile and backed away. Waiting a second, just until he proved he would actually start eating, she spoke.
“Why don't you want me to call you Donnie?”
The pile shifted. “You just… you just can't.”
“Why not?”
“...because Splinter gave me that name. It's my name as his son. As Raph, Leo, and Mikey's brother. Not yours.”
April was about to pose a question, but the softshell suddenly sat up and started showing his anger. In the action, he also revealed the red marks growing on his arms from squeezing them.
“Because I don't care how much time you spend around us. I don't care how much One likes you, or how much Four draws you, or how much stupid stuff you watch with Two! You aren't related to me. It's scientifically impossible. We don't share any genetic material. You aren't my brother!”
With frazzled eyes, he turned and grabbed April's collar, bringing the two face to face.
“And you are most definitely not my sister.”
He shoved April away and sulked back in his den. The girl decided to take the violent outburst as an invitation to get closer, and sat on the edge of the bed.
“...that's okay.”
She only got a sniff in response.
“I don't need to be your sister. Or your brother. All I want is to be your friend. And if that means I call you something else, that's okay. Just tell me what you want me to call you, and I'll do it. Maybe I can call you Purple like Splints has been. Or I'll call you Three, if you really want me to.”
The turtle, Donnie to some, showed his face, keeping the blankets wrapped around his shoulders. His fingers were digging into his upper arms.
“And I know you might not like me, but I'm not going anywhere. Your brothers like me, and they'll be upset if I go away.” When she saw the softshell's grip tighten, she quickly added, “And I know that if they had to choose, they'd pick you. But they don't have to. They don't want to.”
The turtle stared aimlessly in front of him. “...I don't… I…”
“I can just not call you anything if you can't decide. Y'know, just call you ‘dude’ and stuff.”
His shoulders lifted higher, touching the sides of his chin. “That… that works…”
April smiled wide. “Great.”
The two sat there, just accepting each other's company. Donnie's tight posture slowly loosened, and April focused on making sure his breathing was even.
This poor boy had never known true family. He had never known learning to trust people and taking them in. He had never been taken in. This concept, choosing family, was so foreign. Because to him, family wasn't something you could choose.
April would never allow that. Never again.
“...sooo, do you have a pee corner?”
“What?!”
April held her hands up defensively. “Mikey said you haven't come out to pee! I just wanted to know if you had a pee corner!”
“No?! Why would you automatically assume I have a pee corner?”
“Because you haven't come out of your room to pee! What, do you have a pee cup instead?!”
“No!”
“Then what have you been doing?!”
Donnie pointed to a spot in the room, and April looked over to see a very D.I.Y. toilet, made of scrap metal welded together. (She could recall that Donnie's welding materials had been taken from him weeks ago.) “I hooked it up to go straight into the tunnels,” Donnie boasted proudly. “I even dug the holes myself! Digged? Dug.”
“...yeeeah, we're getting rid of that,” April grimaced.
“WHAT?! WHY?!”
“YOU KNOW VERY WELL WHY.”
----------------------
[In time, Donnie would let April call him by his name. And, in time, he would learn that his name was his, and his alone.]
○●○●○●○
And that's it! Totally! April has started on her long journey to fixing all of her broken brothers! She has NO OTHER BROTHERS THAT HAVE ISSUES, why would you ever think that 🟥🐢
This part gave me quite a few problems. Knowing that the "Maps" comic is probably going to explore April and Donnie's relationship, I was a little scared about making assumptions. Also, you don't realize how difficult it is to write someone who isn't all there until you're actually trying to do it. Eventually I just said "screw it, if he's out of character, its fine". So now we're here :)
ALso, no one tells you how motivating and powerful the high you get when someone you look up to praises your work is, I thought this would take me WAY LONGER to finish 🤡
aanyway, congrats to all the tmnt au comp winners, again. Can't wait to see who moves on from here :D
Part 4 -> ❤️
142 notes ¡ View notes
here2bbtstrash ¡ 2 years
Text
heartless (explicit)
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genre: pwp, smut, exes hooking up - a part of the jeju shore collab !
pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: after a wild summer at the shore where he made more than a few mistakes, jungkook is ready to remind you why you always take him back.
word count: 7.4k
other works in this collab: You DTF? by @haliiimede and Himbo Hours by @gimmethatagustd
contains: explicit sexual content!!! set in 2009, member POV, established relationship (exes), mentions of infidelity, mentions of alcohol and drug use, jk blows a stranger (definitely not anyone we know 👀) in a bar bathroom, some good ol' fashioned 2009 biphobia lmao, EXCESSIVE use of petnames (kookie and jagi) like it's really too much, cunnilingus, fingering, a lot of pussy appreciation bc of who i am as a person, they make a sex tape 🎥 (reader films jk going down on her), hot tub sex, jk makes reader come with a hot tub jet, unprotected sex (smh 😔), nothing in this fic is sexually healthy pls do not replicate, multiple orgasms/overstim, a lil bit of marking, jk is toxic and i kind of love him oops, don't fight me for the ending
A/N: it's here it's here it's here!!!!! happy jeju shore day 🥰 i'm so excited to share this one with y'all, it really was supposed to be a joke thing like ~sammi and ron vibes~ yknow and then idk.... this fic ran away with me,, like tell me why i ship kookie and jagi lowkey 🥺 over here like maybe one day they'll work it out 🥺 ANYWAY uhhh heed the warnings, this one's a doozy, have fun, stay hydrated 💦 and make sure you check out jai and hali's fics toooooo for your full ~weekend at the shore~ !!!! love you babes, thank you as always for reading 😘💜
read on AO3 !
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“Shit, gonna come.”
Thank god, Jungkook thinks to himself. This guy has some impressive stamina, which he’d normally appreciate, but he’s in a bad mood tonight. Getting his throat fucked hasn’t helped like he thought it might.
Even though the guy is cute, with a big body and a sweet set of dimples, Jungkook is just going through the motions. He’s annoyed by the way the bathroom floor is digging into his knees, the way his jaw is starting to lock up with how long he’s been at this.
He shuts his eyes, remembers to breathe through his nose, and then a hand presses hard to the back of his head and his mouth starts to fill, bitter and heady. Careful not to spill a drop, Jungkook keeps his suction tight through the cock-twitches of this guy’s— he didn’t get his name, because he really doesn’t care to know it— orgasm, until he finally feels the fingers in his hair release.
Jungkook gets to his feet and stumbles to the sink, gripping the porcelain edge while he spits out the glossy strings of a stranger’s load. He’s not a swallower, because he’s not gay. He’s just good at sucking dick— and Jungkook likes doing things he’s good at.
“Appreciate it!” The stranger’s voice echoes over his shoulder, followed by the sound of the bathroom door swinging on its hinges and slamming shut, leaving him alone with a sink full of cum.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
Jungkook stares himself down in the mirror, runs a hand over his hair to make sure it didn’t get fucked up from that guy’s truly obscenely large hand. Thankfully his extra-hold gel seems to be doing its job.
At the realization that his teeth are grinding together, he presses a knuckle into the hinge of his jaw, trying to encourage it to relax. He’s been clenching all night, and he’s not sure if he should blame the six redbull vodkas he’s thrown back or the keybumps of something he did off the bar: it was either coke or molly.
Coke, he thinks. He’s on edge.
He can’t shake this feeling, like he’s a wild animal trapped in a cage, as he pushes the bathroom door open and presses his way back into the mass of bodies in the club. He’s gone out every night this week looking for something, but he can’t find it. It’s not at the bottom of a bottle or in white powder snorted through a rolled-up hundred. And it’s certainly not in any of the random strangers he’s taken in the bathroom or the back alley or on the hood of his car in the parking lot.
He misses you.
It’s been almost three weeks since you last came around, and even then, it was only to scream at him while you dug your clothes out of his dresser and threw your spare toothbrush in the trash can. All because someone left you that stupid fucking note detailing the night Jungkook went blackout, where the last thing he remembers is Jimin convincing him to switch to Malibu.
If what Jungkook’s been told is the truth, he apparently started a bar fight and had a foursome that night— just, unfortunately, with three people who weren’t you. He kind of wishes he could remember at least one of those.
Fuck this, he thinks to himself, surrounded by trashed club-goers on all sides, bodies slick with sweat and tanning oil, the floor sticky from spilled drinks and probably a few other things. Jungkook knows exactly where he wants to be, and it’s between your thighs, not at one of the seven shitty clubs he and his hyungs have been rotating through all summer.
Figuring Taehyung and Jimin are fine to handle their own shit, he shoves through the crowd a little more aggressively than he needs to, and definitely knocks one drunk girl flat on her ass without bothering to look back.
The slight chill in the air when he steps outside is a welcome relief from the stale heat of the club. It’s the last weekend before everyone packs up and heads for the mainland, which means he’s running out of chances to see you, to try and convince you to get the fuck over this latest bump in the road and take him back.
Jungkook knows he loves you, he’s sure of it. He wants to marry you someday, get a little house in the suburbs, pop out a few kids, all that shit. But right now he’s young, and he just wants to party and have fun. He doesn’t understand why you care so much.
Driving home with the windows down, going a cool 80 in a 40, he grips the wheel with one hand while the other digs his Razr phone out of the pocket of his ripped jeans. He hits the first speed dial where your number is saved and has to call three times before you finally answer. The fact that you picked up at all means he has a chance tonight.
“What, Kookie?!”
Probably the greeting he should’ve anticipated, but his stomach still flips at the nickname. You’re the only one allowed to use it: he’s strictly Jungkook to most, JK to his hyungs.
He fidgets absentmindedly with the car lights, the AC, the button for the windows. This is always the hard part, talking about feelings and shit. But it’s what you want, so he’ll do it for you.
“Wanna see you,” he murmurs into the phone, as if he needs to keep his voice down so he won’t get caught being soft.
“Fuck off,” you snap instantly, but you don’t hang up.
Jungkook’s played this game enough times to know what it means: he’s got a rapidly shrinking window of opportunity to say the right thing. He clicks his tongue against his teeth, trying to buy himself some time. “Come on, don’t be like that.”
“Like what?” You huff.
Stopped at a red light, Jungkook tips his head back against the car seat and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts. “Don’t be mean to me. I already told you I’m sorry, it’s not fair for you to hold this shit over my head.”
“I’m not holding anything over your head, Kookie, you fucking cheated—“
His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light changes. “Yeah, I fucking know, okay? But it’s the last weekend. Is this really how you want to leave it?”
The silence on the other end of the line is more than enough to answer his question.
“Just… come over. Let me see you. Please?” Jungkook grimaces, embarrassed to be begging. He wouldn’t do it for anybody else.
Gravel crunches under the tires of his car as he pulls into the driveway, and he’s only sure the call didn’t disconnect when he hears the way you sigh softly on the other end. It’s a sigh he knows well.
“Fine.”
You don’t say anything else, and neither does Jungkook. He doesn’t know what else there is to say, or why any of this has to be such a big fucking deal. But he waits, until finally you hang up, and then he flips his phone shut. Girls.
Once inside, he makes quick work of getting everything together: sweeping the empty beer cans on the kitchen counter into the trash, spraying on a little more Hugo Boss, a mouthwash rinse to rid himself of the lingering taste of cum. The place you rented for the summer is just down the road, so it’s as he’s spitting in the sink for the second time tonight that he hears you bang loudly on the front door.
Time to turn on the charm, Jungkook thinks to himself, and then he exits the bathroom and reaches a hand between his shoulder-blades to pull his shirt off over his head. He drops it to the floor of his bedroom before heading down the hallway to let you in.
Jungkook swings the door wide and leans one arm on the frame as he takes you in. You’re standing on his stoop, arms crossed angrily over your pink crop top, belly button piercing glinting in the porch light. He smiles fondly, remembering the summer you got it done, the way you squeezed his hand so tight when the needle went through that he nearly lost feeling.
It was nice then, the way you acted like you really needed him. You used to be so sweet. He wonders when that changed.
It’s been too long. “Hi, jagi,” he says, and it comes out softer than he would’ve liked. It makes him sound weak.
“Fuck off. Answering the fucking door shirtless. You did that on purpose.” You roll your eyes as you brush past him to walk inside.
He turns sideways, purposefully taking up most of the doorway so you have to squeeze through, and when you do, his fingers hook in the belt-loops of your jeans to pull you closer.
“Just like you wore these?” There’s no way you don’t know what those white low-rise jeans do to him. Jungkook always tells you they make your ass look so fat, and even though you complain every time, he means it as an honest compliment.
Clearly still trying to act pissed off, you pop your gum at him, but he knows better than to believe that you’re really mad. If you were, you wouldn’t have come here. And you certainly wouldn’t be looping your arms around his neck and tilting your head up like that, moving so close that he can feel the heat of your breath ghosting over him.
“Maybe. What are you gonna do about it?” You purr, like you don’t already know the answer.
Jungkook’s lips find yours at the same time his hands slide around your hips, fingers sinking into the denim stretched tight over your ass. You squeak a little at how hard he grabs, and he takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue into your mouth, deftly retrieving the wad of gum from between your teeth. He pulls back with a cocky grin and spits it halfway across the yard.
“How about you come inside and find out?”
“Jesus.” You make a face when you step in first, leaving your Gucci flip flops in the front hall, and Jungkook turns back to shut the door behind him as he follows you. “You guys trashed this fuckin’ place.”
He frowns at your utter disregard for his cleaning efforts, but he follows your gaze and, well, you’re not wrong. He probably could’ve done something about all the half-empty liquor bottles, the overflowing ashtrays, the sink full of dishes. But right now he really doesn’t give a shit.
Jungkook closes the distance between you again, arms slipping around your waist from behind, head ducking down to nuzzle in the crook of your neck, to make you squirm the way he likes. “This is the bachelor life. We need a woman’s touch,” he murmurs against your skin, and you scoff a laugh.
“I’m serious,” Jungkook protests. He pauses to suck a mark into your skin, only stopping when he manages to coax a soft whimper out of you. “Why don’t you and I get a place together next summer? I’ll tell Jimin and Tae they’re on their own.”
You hum softly, in the way that tells him you want that, too. But you’re still playing coy, even as your hands slide over his arms locked tight around you. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”
“Maybe I should do some convincing,” Jungkook’s lips brush over the shell of your ear, and you wriggle out of his grasp, crossing into the living room and tossing your purse on the couch before dropping down unceremoniously next to it.
The wild animal feeling hasn’t dissipated— when he follows after you, Jungkook can’t help but feel like a predator stalking his prey.
It’s probably fucked up, but he likes the chase.
Leaning back on your hands, you gaze up at him, jeans sunk low enough for Jungkook to see the pink straps of your thong that peek out over the curve of your hip. The visual makes his own pants start to feel tight.
You tilt your head expectantly. “I’m listening.”
“I wasn’t gonna talk,” he admits with a smirk, standing over you, one leg teasing your thighs apart.
You reach forward to trail a hand down the defined lines of his stomach— the gym has been good to him this summer— and blink your long lashes innocently. “Will you at least use your mouth?”
“Well, now I know what you came over for,” Jungkook growls. His hands drop to brace on the back of the couch behind you, arm muscles flexing as he cages you in, and he leans down to capture you in a heady kiss. He missed it all: the way you smell, how soft your lips are, the way you still taste like spearmint. Your needy little noises when he licks his tongue into your mouth and the way you suck so diligently on it. You’re always so good for him, always so pretty when you come back.
“Take your pants off, jagi,” he breathes into your mouth, shifting to grip your neck with one hand as he kisses you again. He can feel a soft whine in your throat under his palm when you do as you’re told.
Jungkook pulls back once your jeans are kicked all the way off, knees digging into the carpet as he settles between your legs. His biceps wrap under your thighs and he tugs your bare ass to the edge of the couch, pausing to slip a finger under the thin string of your thong and gently snap it against your skin.
You spread your legs wider for him, leaning back against the cushion. “Don’t tease,” you huff. The desperation in your voice just turns him on more.
“Impatient,” Jungkook notes with a smirk. “And I haven’t even told you what I want yet.”
“What you want?” Your attempt at sass is undercut by the moan Jungkook works out of you when he sucks another hickey into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He pulls back with a final lick over the mark that sends a shiver rippling through you, makes your nipples stiffen against the thin fabric of your crop top and your hips tilt up instinctively for more.
His eyes find yours again. “Let’s make a movie.”
“Kookie,” you whine, and Jungkook cups a hand over the front of your panties, rubbing circles into the thin material, then gently squeezing your pussy lips together to help argue his case. He can feel the muscles in your thighs twitch in response— always so sensitive.
“Come on,” he murmurs, pushy. “I know you have that camera in your bag.” You take your Sony digital camera with you everywhere, like it’s a third limb, like you believe nothing really happens unless it’s documented on Facebook.
Jungkook reaches for the strap of your Coach purse and drops it between your spread thighs. “I want you to film me while I go down on you. That way you can watch it back when you need to remember why you keep me around.” He punctuates the request with a wink, because he knows you can’t say no to him. That fact is made evident by how quickly you dig in to retrieve the little pink camera before tossing your bag aside again.
“I don’t watch porn, Kookie,” you scoff, already turning it on and fiddling with the settings. “I’m not nasty like you.”
“You’ll watch this one,” Jungkook corrects, hands pressing on your thighs to encourage them to spread further. Your skin is smooth and warm under his touch as he slides his fingertips back up to the line of your panties. “Now shhh. The only thing I wanna hear talk is this pussy.”
When the telltale beep indicates you’ve started recording, Jungkook stares pointedly into the camera with a cocky smirk. “Missed you, jagi,” he says, both to the you on the other side of the camera and the you who will watch this in the future, when you inevitably get mad about some dumb shit and break up with him again. As if you could ever really stay away.
His eye contact doesn’t falter as he licks a long, slow stripe up the front of your panties, taking his time, tongue laid flat to fully soak through the fabric. When he leans back, one hand snakes between your thighs to tug the damp material to the side, tattooed fingers pressing into a V to spread your folds apart. It always makes you squirm, but he loves to admire you like this. He’s not ashamed to like pussy.
“So pretty,” he murmurs, reaching the hand that isn’t parting your pussy lips up to beckon for the camera. “Let me film. Won’t get your face in it.”
You hand it over silently, clearly already too turned on to make a big show of protesting. Jungkook turns the lens on your pussy, holds it up close as he traces two fingers over your folds, keeping the pressure light enough that you squirm and flutter cutely beneath it.
“Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs when he teases his touch down to your entrance. There’s already enough slickness there to earn him an audible wet noise as he goes, his pattern a slow, lazy circle. He presses a finger in just to drag it back out, and a thin, glossy string of arousal comes with it. “Your pussy loves me too much. That’s why you can’t stay mad.”
Jungkook paints the wetness he pulled out of you up to stroke over the hood of your clit, and it’s enough to edge your breathing with shy sounds. You bring your palm up to your mouth, clearly trying to keep quiet, and it only encourages him to dip back in for more. He uses two fingers this time, slipping past your entrance into the tight velvet heat of your cunt, always so warm and willing for him.
You sigh at the loss when he pulls back, more arousal drooling out of you to chase after his fingers. Jungkook loves to play with you like this: you squeak when he squishes the whole of your cunt up in his hand, reveling in the noise of your slick folds pressing together, in the way your pussy’s gone needy for him. All swollen and puffy, all soft, dripping juice like ripe fruit.
He works up some saliva in his mouth and lets it dribble down over your slit between his fingers, then follows it with another pass of his tongue.
“Oh my fucking god,” you whimper.
“You know I’ll always treat it right, jagiya.” Jungkook purrs, releasing his grip on your pussy lips to pinch at your clit while he passes the camera back. “But let me show you in case you forget.”
He firmly tugs your panties down your thighs and leaves them to dangle off one ankle before guiding your legs to hook over his shoulders. After a final glance up to make sure you’re still filming, he leans in to properly trace his tongue through your slick folds, lapping at the arousal pooled at your entrance while his thumb brushes over your clit to work up more.
Jungkook’s brows pinch together and he grunts in appreciation of your taste, thick and familiar; he’s gone too long without it. He’s eating properly now, alternating between dragging his tongue flat and flicking it gently over your clit in the way that makes you gasp and shove your hips up towards his mouth, rough and wild, no good-girl pretense left in you.
His arm locks across your stomach to keep you where he wants you, and he pulls back with a smack of his lips and a cheeky smile for the camera.
“Relax. I’ve got you.”
This is the part he loves: when you start to come undone, worked up enough to be responsive to every little touch. Jungkook licks broad, showy stripes up to your clit, eyes fixed on you through the lens, enjoying the way your soft sighs blossom into full-out moans, matching pace to the steady rhythm of his tongue. 
“Kookie,” you groan, “nnh, fuck— f-feels so good.”
He hums a laugh against your folds, and the vibrations make you cry out so he does it some more, lips closing to suck firmly at your clit while his mouth buzzes sweet, low notes around it. You arch up beneath him and your moan scrapes rough against the back of your throat, desperate.
It was a stroke of genius to have you film it, Jungkook thinks absentmindedly to himself. Documented proof that nobody else could ever do you this good.
“Fuck.” Your voice brings him back to attention as he continues to pulse suction against your clit, tongue fluttering out again to lap at the sensitive bud. The sounds you make are slightly muffled by the manicured hand you’ve clapped over your mouth, but you’re so loud now that he can still hear every word. “Oh god, Kookie— I-I’m gonna come, oh fuck, ohhhh—”
Your hips tilt up as your orgasm overtakes you and he shoves them back down, practically growling as he forces you to stay there and take it. He can feel your legs shake, the way your bare heels kick listlessly against his back as he sucks and licks you through the peak of your climax. Your pussy throbs in his mouth and drips down his chin like honey, with a taste so good he doesn’t want to stop.
“God fucking dammit,” you moan, and he keeps going until you bring one foot up to press into his shoulder to push him away. “Kookie, p-please, it’s too much.”
With a final swipe of his tongue, Jungkook pulls back, wiping at his chin with one hand. “You’re sensitive, jagi, I know.”
But there’s a reason you haven’t stopped filming, and it’s one you both know well. It was back when you first started dating, when you could never keep your clothes on around each other and barely left his room, that Jungkook learned your body expertly enough to figure it out: after you come once, your pussy gets so sensitive that he can easily work you up to a second orgasm, even from just the curl of his fingers against your g-spot.
He hopes no one else will ever get the chance to know you like this. 
You barely manage to stifle another sob and almost drop the camera when he slips two fingers into your cunt, pressing to the hilt to feel how swollen-tender you are inside. Your walls squeeze so tight around him that his cock twitches in his pants with jealousy.
Sliding one of your legs off his shoulder, he presses your thigh firmly into the couch and groans a little at the way you spread wide for him, glossed folds all flushed and pretty. It gives him a head rush to watch his hand work you open, to see the thick white cream of your arousal paint his fingers each time he pulls back just to thrust in again.
You’re wet enough now that the sound is obscene, a juicy squelch every time he fucks into you, and Jungkook can’t help but smile. He glances up. “You’re dripping on my couch, jagiya.”
You can only whimper in response.
“You want to come again?”
You nod desperately until you manage to find the word. “Please.”
“Anything for you.” Jungkook winks for the camera as he starts to flex his fingers to pet over the ridges of your front wall. You keen as he puts more weight into his strokes, your free hand reaching to cling to him and dig your nails into his bicep. He’s too keyed up to feel it, can’t focus on anything that isn’t your pussy squeezing him like a fucking vice grip, tight and hot and soft inside.
You’re past the point of being able to talk, reduced to breathless moans— “ah, ah, nnh”— because Jungkook knows exactly what to do to take you apart all over again.
This time he makes no move to stop you when your hips buck up. Instead he lets you let go, lets you fuck yourself on his hand, fluttering around his fingers and trembling all over as you start to come.
Jungkook goes a little slack-jawed watching you and momentarily forgets about the video, looking over the camera to see the expression on your face as he works you through your second peak. He loves the way you grip tight to him with your nails and your pussy, like he’s special, like you need him.
Your knees reflexively pull towards each other as your cunt-pulses slow and you finally start to come down, thighs clamping in around Jungkook’s wrist to still the motions of his hand. When he hears the whir of the camera shutter retracting and sees you toss it aside on the couch, he finally relents. You open yourself up enough that he can slip his fingers out to suck the excess off.
“What the fuck,” you finally manage as you collapse against the couch cushions, sounding beyond dazed.
Jungkook presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, trying to hide his smug smirk, and gets to his feet. As he watches your head tip back and your eyes flutter closed, he can’t help but wonder if you got what you came for. If this is the last he’ll see of you until god knows when.
Fuck that. He’s not letting you go that easy.
In one swift move Jungkook leans forward, slipping an arm between your back and the couch and sweeping the other under your knees. He tosses you over his shoulder— completely naked from the waist down— like it’s nothing at all, delivering a swift slap to your ass with the hand that isn’t wrapped around your hips.
“Kookie!” You try to sound mad but the laugh that bubbles up gives it away. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
“Come on,” Jungkook replies as he carries you across the living room, impervious to the way your hands claw at his back. “It’s a perfect night for the hot tub.”
“I didn’t bring a fucking bikini,” you sputter, feet kicking softly in the air. “Put me down.”
“That’s okay,” he reassures you as his free hand easily slides the back door open and he takes you over the threshold. “Tae and Jimin won’t be back for a while. It’s just us.”
Tae and Jimin have also already seen you naked… probably dozens of times at this point, if Jungkook had to estimate, but he doesn’t mention that part. Not when he’s trying to get his girl back.
Instead he crosses the yard to set you down on the hot tub deck, your legs dangling over the side, and makes quick work of stripping out of his jeans and boxers, half-hard cock hanging heavy between his legs. He hopes it might give you some incentive to stay a little longer.
When he turns back to face you, your bottom lip is jutting out in a bratty little pout as your feet swing aimlessly off the deck. It makes him want to fucking ruin you.
Jungkook steps forward to close the distance, thumb running down your mouth to pet over your lip. “Put this back in your mouth and take your top off, jagi.” His voice is low, his mouth ghosting over yours. 
Your bare foot knocks into his shin, but it only hurts a little. “Make me.”
He can’t help but smirk at your attitude. It’s cute. He likes you feisty. “That’s a lot of sass for someone who was just screaming my name.”
You smack a hand against his chest with a play-scowl. “Shut up.”
He sweeps your arms behind your back before you can do it again, easily enclosing both of your wrists in one of his hands. “Why are you always so mean to me, huh?”
“Oh, I’m mean?” You look like you’re going to say more, but he pushes your crop top up with his free hand and watches the way it makes you shiver, your nipples tightening in the cool night air.
“You are,” Jungkook says softly. “And I’m just trying to love you.”
The same hand cups one of your breasts, and he ducks down to suck the stiff peak of it into his mouth, enjoying the airy little moan he coaxes out of you and the way you arch up into him. His grip on your wrists doesn’t falter as he pulls off, switching to roll your other nipple under the pad of his thumb.
“You should get these pierced,” he remarks, gaze shifting between your tits as he imagines silver barbells studded through the buds of them. “I’ll get one too. We can go together. Next summer.” His eyes find yours in time to watch your expression soften, just barely. It’s enough.
“Yeah, sure,” you deadpan, wiggling a little in his grasp. “Until you decide to stick your dick in some strange and fuck everything up again.”
Jungkook sighs. You’re fucking relentless. “I don’t want to talk about that. Can’t it just be us?”
Your reaction isn’t what he expects: he’s surprised to see the fight go out of you, to see how defeated you look as you lean in and press your forehead against his chest. Even your wrists go slack in his hand, and he releases his grip.
“That’s what I’m saying, Kookie,” you murmur. “That’s all I want.”
Jungkook’s fingers sweep under the line of your jaw. “I know.”
He tilts your head up for a kiss, and your hands come to cup his face, as if to pull him closer— to hold him in place so he can’t run away.
It’s the way it always is: he’s not going to promise he’ll change, and he knows you’re not dumb enough to ask him to. He can’t be anything but what he is, but he can hope you’ll love him anyway.
Your thumb strokes over Jungkook’s cheek as he pulls back, and he smiles a little. “Will you please get in the hot tub?”
Jungkook settles into the water first, sighing dramatically loud at the welcome warmth, and you giggle as you peel your top off before following after. When you slip in politely across from him, he grabs you by the ankle with a growl, and you don’t fight as he pulls you close again.
His hands guide your thighs apart to straddle him, so your knees rest on either side of the ledge he’s seated on. Between the heat of the water and your body on top of him, he’s dizzyingly hard in seconds.
The two of you make out like teenagers, more tongue than anything else, doing your best to hump and grind against each other despite the water slightly inhibiting your motions. Jungkook can’t stop touching your tits, obsessed with the weight of them in his hands. His fingers pinch and tug at your nipples to make you whine into his open mouth again and again, and his cock twitches in response every time.
“K-Kookie,” you finally manage to groan, nails dragging down his back as he presses sloppy kisses, all tongue and teeth, to the slope of your neck. “Need it, please. Your cock.”
His mouth finds yours again, and he bites down on your bottom lip with a smile before pulling back to answer. “You’ll get it, jagi. Wanna try something first.”
You whine a little and he gives a teasing pinch to your inner thigh, shifting you off his lap so he can stand up.
“Come here.”
Jungkook’s hands slide to your waist when you get to your feet, and the added weightlessness from the water makes it even easier for him to move you where he wants you. He guides you to spin so your back is flush with his chest, then encourages you to kneel on the ledge again, pushing your legs further apart.
“Can you stay like this for me?” He murmurs in your ear. You look up at him over your shoulder with wide, shining eyes, reflecting back the blue glow of the mood lights filtered through the water, and you nod.
As he ducks down to kiss you, Jungkook’s hand fumbles blindly against the edge of the tub until he finds the button he’s looking for. When he presses it once, the jets roar to life, including the one positioned right between your spread thighs.
You gasp into his mouth, and Jungkook wraps his arms tight around you to keep you in place, letting you collapse back into him as the jet pulses onto your pussy. “Oh my god, oh fuck, Kookie.”
“Feels good?” He murmurs in your ear, and you can only whimper and nod, hips circling against the stream of water, stimulated past the point of coherency. Your eyes practically roll back in your head. “Yeah, you look good like this.”
Jungkook can’t help himself now— his cock aches from lack of attention, and he starts to grind into you from behind, rutting himself against the small of your back, the curve of your ass. His hands grab at the soft skin of your thighs for leverage, and he can feel the way you’re shaking, already close, your breathing going ragged.
“K-Kookie—” you whimper. “I’m— fuck, g-gonna—”
“Want you to come for me,” he groans, tongue darting out to trace the shell of your ear. “Come for me like this so I can fuck another one out of you.”
Your arms scramble back behind you for something to keep you grounded, nails scratching and digging into Jungkook’s shoulders as your orgasm starts to crest.
He keeps rocking his hips into you, which only serves to move you closer to the jet and make the pressure that much stronger. You’re moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and Jungkook has to grip your hips to keep them still as you come fast and hard, shaking apart in his arms.
“That’s it, that’s it.” Jungkook talks you through it, petting broad strokes down your thighs that make you jolt under his touch. “How was that, jagiya?”
“Fuuuuuck.” Your answer is a soft whine, and he can feel the aftershocks still rolling through your body. You shift to pull your thighs together, shivering all-over, and Jungkook releases his grip on them, hands moving up to squeeze at your tits while you recover. He can feel the way your heart is racing beneath his palm.
Your eyes slowly blink open, heavy-lidded, and you start to untangle your arms from around Jungkook’s shoulders. His back stings a little— he’s sure he’ll have pretty pink scratch marks to remember you by.
He presses a kiss to your temple, chaste in spite of how fucking hard and horny he is. “Love you. Stand up for me?”
Your legs are still shaking, so Jungkook helps haul you to your feet. Taehyung is always telling him he shouldn’t actually be penetrating girls in the water, something about vaginal health, so he has you bend at the waist to lean over the edge of the hot tub. The arch in your back when you press your ass up towards him makes his cock start to leak against his stomach.
Your head lolls forward to drop down on your forearms, and he laughs a little at how fucked out you already are as he gives your ass a firm slap. “Stay just like that. Face down ass up.”
You wait patiently as he climbs out of the water to search the deck. It only takes a few seconds for him to spot what he’s looking for: the bottle of lube Jimin’s always leaving out “just in case”. Jungkook makes a mental note to buy him a thank-you shot.
“God damn,” he murmurs appreciatively when he returns to you, rubbing three fingers slicked in thick silicone lube along your puffed-up slit before pushing them into the velvet heat of your pussy. “Wanna come in you so bad.”
“Please, Kookie,” you whimper.
Jungkook withdraws his hand to squirt more lube into his palm and fist it over his length, hissing a little at the sensation and the squelching noise his hand makes when he fucks into it. Tossing the bottle over the edge, his hands come to frame your hips, and he can’t help but moan as he starts to grind the head of his dick against your folds. “Fuck.”
You push your hips back on him, all wrecked and needy, your voice wrung-out. “Fuck me, Kookie, please— wanna take your cock, wanna feel it.”
It’s so hot when you beg for him. With another soft noise, Jungkook lines himself up to your entrance and gives you what you need: the whole of his thick cock sliding into your grip-tight pussy, slow for the delicious stretch of it, so you can feel every inch until he’s pressed in to the hilt.
It feels the way it always does. You were made to fit together.
You whine into the crook of your elbow, your walls already fluttering, split open and filled up and so sensitive. Jungkook leans forward, hands bracing the edge of the tub on either side of you, until his chest is flush with your back and the tip of his cock presses into your g-spot.
“Oh shit, right there, Kookie,” you gasp, like he doesn’t already know.
Jungkook grunts, nipping at the skin of your shoulder, and he starts to grind his hips against you, rubbing his cock into your g-spot over and over, until your legs threaten to give out. 
Your pussy feels so good, the little moans you’re making in time with his motions are so pretty, it’s like he can’t get enough of you. He brings a hand up to run over every inch of your skin he can reach, all of it smooth and gorgeous under his fingertips— he really can’t stop touching you. 
Maybe those bumps he did back at the bar were molly, he thinks absentmindedly.
“So fucking sexy,” he groans as he strokes a little harder, hips rolling fluidly. “So fucking beautiful.”
“F-fuck, Kookie,” you whimper, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts, and you let out a choked moan when he starts to pound more firmly in response. “Ah, fuck— don’t fucking stop, oh god—”
Jungkook hooks his arm across your chest, and his hand gripped tight to your shoulder gives him more leverage to hit deeper. Being squeezed so close by your walls is nearly overwhelming, your pussy all hot and wet inside, it’s like he can barely fit. “God, you’re so fucking tight, jagi.”
“F-feels so guh— good, nnh,” you can hardly get the words out, and Jungkook can feel the way your whole body is starting to shake.
He can’t stop himself now, not when it’s this good. “Missed you so much, jagiya. Wanna marry you, wanna put a baby in you.” His cock twitches hard, enough that you whimper a little, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.
“Come with me, jagi,” he grunts. “I want to feel you come again.”
“C-can’t,” you gasp, but he knows you can, can tell by the way you’re gripping around him that you’re already close.
The clapping of skin on skin echoes out as Jungkook fucks deliberately into your g-spot, no longer holding back, and you cling to the edge of the tub for dear life as your muscles start to contract. “Oh fuck, Kookie, fuck, fuck, I’m coming, I—”
With a loud cry, you collapse forward, knees nearly buckling as your orgasm hits you. Jungkook is helpless to the way your pussy pulses around him, like it was made to milk his cock. He tips his head back with a throaty groan as he comes with you, comes for what feels like an eternity, thick white ropes spilling into your cunt with every dick-twitch of his orgasm.
“Oh my god,” he groans, working the last of it out with a few shallow strokes, his breathing harsh and ragged. “So fucking good.”
You whimper softly with your head dropped down into your arms, your pussy still shuddering around him.
Jungkook squeezes at the curve of your ass as he pulls out with a hiss of oversensitivity. Deciding not to bother with the mess running down your thighs, he takes a second to catch his breath, then climbs over the edge of the hot tub, wiping absentmindedly at the beads of sweat dotting his temples.
You’re clearly too fucked out to walk now, so he scoops you up to carry you across the deck and back inside through the open sliding door, bridal-style this time, cradled in his arms. He smiles at the way you’re still trembling a little, your face now buried in his chest.
He deposits you onto the couch, then stretches out next to you to prop up on one arm, admiring how your hair fans out beneath you as you curl into him with a small sigh.
It takes you a while to come to, lashes fluttering prettily over your cheeks, and when your eyes finally blink open, you sit up rather abruptly.
Jungkook brings a hand to your low back to rub gentle circles. “Hi, jagi.”
There’s a look on your face, like you’ve just realized where you are.
“Fuck, I should go,” you murmur, looking around until your gaze lands on your purse. You lean over to retrieve it and dig through the contents until you finally find your phone and slide it open. “My roommate is gonna figure it out if I don’t come back, and she’ll fucking kill me.”
“Stay with me,” Jungkook says softly.
“No, Jungkook,” you snap, and he can tell by the way you’ve dropped the nickname that he’s lost you for the night. “I shouldn’t have even fucking come here.”
He should probably take this more seriously, but he can’t help his instinctive reaction, or the smirk that pulls up the corner of his mouth. “But you did come. Four times, if my memory is correct.”
“Fuck off,” you grunt, already up and starting to pull on your clothes that are scattered across the floor of the living room. You briefly disappear outside to retrieve your shirt.
“Does this mean we’re not back together?” Jungkook tries when you slip in the door again.
You shoot him a look he’s all-too-familiar with. “Not at all.”
“Will you at least unblock me on Facebook?” He asks sweetly, and it’s a joke, but he can see from the way you roll your eyes that you’re clearly too pissed off to have any more fun tonight.
“Facebook?! That’s seriously what you care about right now?! You are so fucking shallow, Jungkook.” You grab your purse in a huff and storm off down the hallway.
Jungkook knows he should get up and fight for you, at the very least stop being horizontal on the couch— but honestly, he’s fucking tired. That’s the thing about your hot and cold shit: he knows you’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort right now or not. And it’s so much easier not to.
So he says nothing, hands folded behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling, and waits until he finally hears the front door slam behind you.
Whatever, he thinks to himself with a heavy exhale.
After a minute, he gets up and heads into the bathroom, turning the shower on extra-hot. It’s still early. He can rinse off, get dressed, go see what Tae and Jimin are up to. Maybe he can jump on a grenade for one of them and take his mind off things for a bit.
He unlocks his iPod, docked on the speaker he keeps on the bathroom shelf— can’t shower without a good playlist— and spins the wheel until he gets to one of his favorites, simply titled fuck bitches. The opening 808s of Kanye West kick on like a heartbeat as Jungkook steps under the spray of the shower-head.
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1K notes ¡ View notes
bangtanflirt ¡ 9 months
Note
Hello! No rush but any updates on revisiting the ruin me pretty please characters? I miss them a lot (but also take your time)
I come bearing gifts for you and any other RMPP enthusiasts! Enjoy! 💜😘
Punishment
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Pairings: Jungkook x Reader x Jimin
NSFW CONTENT (18+ ONLY)
Main Story: Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 >  Part 9 >  Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12 > Part 13 >  Part 14 > Part 15 (FINAL)
Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, female domination, slight jealousy, mxm smut, men needing permission to cum, hickeys, mentions of sub-drop and panic attacks, lying/hiding info, riding crop, cock ring, butt plug, punishment session with aftercare
____
Jimin traces little circles on Jungkook’s wrist, one leg tossed over the younger man’s lap and kisses planted along his jawline. The blonde presses his body as close as humanly possible, as if he’s trying to nestle himself perfectly around Jungkook’s form—leaving no inch of sofa between the two bodies. Jungkook has no objections, grabbing his lover by the waist to assist him. Small whimpers fill the room as Jimin begins kissing up on the most sensitive parts of Jungkook’s neck, sucking and biting the skin until he’s sure a hickey will bloom.
“Everyone will see” Jungkook pouts.
“Good, let them know you’re being taken care of. Tired of all those girls constantly around you.”
“You and me both.”
Jungkook pulls Jimin onto his lap as he continues, “Wish I could tell the whole world I’m taken.” The longing in his eyes is clear as day.
“Y/n’s making a lot of progress, especially after she told Minhyuk about us. Don’t worry baby, I don’t think this will be a secret for that much longer.”
The rest of the conversation is detoured by how hungrily Jimin explores Jungkook’s mouth. Making out turns into heavy petting and heavy petting turns into carnal desire. Clothes are tossed on the ground, giving way for skin-to-skin, uninterrupted love.
That is until Jungkook interrupts it.
“W-wait…we don’t have permission.”
Jimin pulls away, face flushed and pupils dilated. He mumbles a frustrated “fuck” under his breath.
There’s a stillness in the air—the men tense as they guage what’s going on in the other’s mind. Guage if they’re on the same page.
Jungkook breaks the silence first, “Just once isn’t that bad right?”
So they are on the same page.
Jimin shakes his head in agreement.
“Just this once.”
And that’s how Jungkook finds himself holding the couch for dear life, trembling as Jimin fucks into him from behind, lips chanting the man’s name like it’s his religion. The atmosphere’s more sinful than usual, with the fact that they shouldn’t be doing this hanging in the air. There’s shame, guilt, and arousal all creating a monsoon of emotions, ready to drown them at any time.
Maybe that’s why Jungkook cums so hard. And why Jimin follows, pulling out and painting Jungkook’s back with white hot strings.
___
The vibe is off when you arrive at Jimin’s that night. Your boyfriends are avoiding your gaze, and Jungkook’s more jittery than usual.
“Is everything alright guys?”
Jungkook’s doe eyes go wide for a second, before he consciously adjusts his expression. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He nervously chuckles.
You raise a brow, “Because you’re acting weird. Both of you, but especially you.”
Luckily for the youngest, Jimin takes control of the conversation.
“Everything’s perfectly fine y/n! You’re probably just tired, let’s get you in the shower so you can unwind.” He punctuates with a peck to your lips, hands already guiding your shoulders to the bathroom before you have a chance to question any further. The men only start talking once they hear the water running.
“We need to tell her. I can’t do this.”
“But hyung…she made it very clear that we aren’t allowed to do anything without her permission anymore. What if she’s disappointed in us?”
The rule is indeed one you’re most strict about, made after an ill-fated night where Jungkook sub-dropped hard and Jimin had no experience bringing him out of it—sending both boys into an anxiety attack. They were lucky you were in a position to drop everything and come home at that time, but it would be naïve to think that would always be the case.
Jimin holds Jungkook’s hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“If you’re that worried then I’ll tell her it was my idea. She’ll go easier on you.”
Jungkook adamantly shakes his head.
“No, if we’re telling the truth we should tell the entire truth.”
___
“You guys did what?”
Jungkook’s eyes are practically glued to the ground as Jimin explains the situation.
“We’re so sorry.”’
“Was it a scene?”
“No! Just sex. Neither of us went into subspace.”
Your face has the slightest show of relief on it, a tiny exhale from your frowning mouth.
“But there was a chance one of you could have?”
Jungkook nods, looking like a schoolboy getting scolded by a teacher, eyes still trained on a wine stain immortalized in the carpet. He was feeling a bit hazy throughout, if he has to admit.
“For fuck’s sake guys, you know better than that.”
“so sorry” it’s quiet and low, but it’s the only thing Jungkook has said throughout the conversation.
“I’m just glad both of you are safe. Still frustrated though.”
“We won’t do it again!”
“Oh I know you won’t—not after your punishments, at least.”
Jungkook finally looks up, eyes pleading you to reconsider. Jimin’s shifting in his seat, not sure if he can handle one of your harsher punishments at the moment.
“Don’t worry Minnie, it’ll be after your dance performance.” Your voice is laced with honeysuckle sweetness, making the statement all the more fear-invoking.
“T-thank you.” He gulps.
“Of course. You won’t be able to dance for a while after I’m done with you. And baseball season’s over, right Jungkook?”
Jungkook freezes. Oh god, they were in for it.
___
“Fuck!”
“That’s not a number Minnie.”
You deliver another hit from the riding crop, further reddening the globes of Jimin’s ass.
“Ssorry! Three!”
“That’s better.”
Jungkook flinches with each strike, as if it’s his skin the crop is making contact with. He watches his hyung jump with every blow, fat tears rolling down his blushing cheeks. He doesn’t know if he’s more or less lucky with his punishment. He’s not getting the riding crop tonight, which he thanks the heavens for…but the vibrating cock ring + butt plug combo is making him cry just the same.
The initial plan was to dish out the same punishment for both boys, but that was altered the minute you saw Jungkook’s reaction to you holding up the crop. It was one of pure fear and no pleasure, and that’s not how you do punishments. Jimin, on the other hand, was salivating at the sight of it—in true painslut fashion.
“Don’t slow down Kook, or I’ll be even meaner.”
The youngest gets back to stroking himself at a decent pace, frustration building as he’s kept to edge with no release.
___
“My boys did so well” you coo, perched on the edge of the bathtub the men were soaking in. You drop a warm vanilla bathbomb in there, knowing how much Jungkook likes the scent. And rose petals for your Jiminnie. They do no more than hum in response, all energy drained from the scene. Aftercare is different after punishments like these, because you have to be even gentler when coaxing them out of subspace—no post-orgasm happy feelings to ease the process.
“How are we feeling? Use your words for me.”
“I’m good, it hurts to sit in this position for long though.”
“I’ll massage you after your bath baby. How ‘bout you Kook?”
“Still wanna cum” he whines, making you toss your head back laughing.
“Sorry Kookie, you have to learn your lesson.”
“But we learned it already, promise! Please let me cum! Let hyung come too!”
You reach over to stroke his hair, “Tomorrow baby. No more whining for the rest of the night and you’ll both get to cum as much as you want tomorrow. Okay?”
He nods, fighting back the urge to whine more. He wants to be extra good for you, show you that the punishment got all the bad out of him. So he focuses on the calm scents of the bathbomb and the way the petals float around Jimin’s torso, focuses everywhere but on his and Jimin’s painfully hard cocks.
“Remember this feeling. This is what boys who touch each other without permission get. Especially if they try to hide it afterwards. Are we clear?”
They nod yes on autopilot, and you know this lesson will be vivid in their heads for a while.
____
Tag list: @ttaekooks @bandaged-despair @laylasbunbunny @sweeneyblue1 @madygswich @namjooncrabs @akshstudios @severely-mentally-ill @everythangggoes @xoxostrawberrymilkxoxo @nikkiordonez12 @channiespup @dreamamubarak @shadowmoon21 @bts-trash-blog @sonje78 @lathraios
176 notes ¡ View notes
crisiscutie ¡ 5 months
Note
Hiya, sweetie! 💜
may I ask for a prompt for your Domestic AU, please? It's something that happens very early when Darling and Sephy just managed to settle down after they finally escaped Shinra.
Darling is pregnant with her firstborn and of course, the anxiety runs high on both sides. But there's one night where she couldn't sleep and decided to go into the living room by herself. Her doubts, if she was even able to become a good mother, plagued her mind... it was one of those nights where such emotional turmoil hits unexpectedly hard out of nowhere. Of course, Sephiroth is instantly on high alert when he noticed that she's not sleeping beside him anymore, so he decides to look for her and finds her eventually, crying.
How would he approach and comfort her?
Thank you so much in advance and keep up with your amazing work, sweetie 💜
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Thank you, I love you so much, my wonderful friend and supporter. This is for you~!
Pairing: Fluffy Sephiroth/Domestic Darling
Content Warning: None.
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Sephiroth's heart sank as he noticed the empty space beside him on the bed. His slit eyes narrowed as he sat up slowly.
He couldn't help but assume the worst. It's an unfortunate carryover from his past SOLDIER life.
He knows you wouldn't abandon him, as he wouldn't do to you, yet the storm of emotions within still raged, thundering in his chest.
With a stern face, he slowly rose out of bed, feeling the temptation to summon his Masamune.
Sephiroth's darkness whispered to him, urging him to keep you close, for who knows if one day you might actually leave him?
Gritting his teeth, he raised a hand to his temple, determined to ignore the dark whispers.
When he found you in the living room, tears streaming down your face, his expression softened.
His heart simultaneously soared with relief, grateful that you hadn't deserted him, yet it also felt heavy with tinges of sorrow at seeing you in such distress.
Sephiroth sat aside you, his caring eyes never leaving you as you quietly sobbed. His thumb came forward, tenderly wiping away your tears.
"Darling, what's wrong?" He whispered, pulling you into his embrace.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice quivering as you struggled to speak. But the weight of your sorrow was too heavy, and your sobs erupted loud.
"Don't worry, I'm here for you. Always..." Sephiroth cooed, slightly he gently swayed back and forth, cradling you in his strong arms.
You melted into his arms, the lingering fragrance of lavender from his hair wrapped around you.
Finally, after a while, you whispered your worries to him about the future, your fears of failing as a mother to your unborn child and as a wife to him.
He only listened to your words, passing on no judgement. He felt a pang of guilt, realizing how much emotional labor you have done for him. He was silent for some time, struggling to find his words before he spoke again.
"You've done so much for me, my love," he whispered, his voice soft and tender. "You introduced me to a life outside of Shinra, a life I had always yearned for," he continued, his voice filled with emotion as his hand gently caressed your pregnant belly. "When they turned their backs on me, you remained by my side... I know that your love will extend effortlessly to our little one."
He tenderly lifted your chin, ensuring your eyes met his as he spoke, "We're in this together, right? I want to love you just as you love me." His lips curved into a gentle smile.
You returned the smile, assuring him you are in this together, and you won't keep your struggles hidden from him any longer.
You two spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other's embrace, refusing to let go.
Because you two were one, bound as lovers, friends, and soulmates.
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