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kithtaehyung · 5 months

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broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg

title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️

Words abandon you.

They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips.

All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels.

Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?”

Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.”

“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?”

“Course I do.”

Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—

“I was there.”

Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…

No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted.

With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?”

“I was.”

The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?”

You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside.

Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi.

It’s just not the right time.

“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.”

Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists.

Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—

“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.”

And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence.

All the words around you just as speechless.

Just like that, you’re gone again.

After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.

Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else.

Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before.

At least something in his apartment has changed for the better.

Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried.

As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face.

And a little bit of summer rain.

It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip.

What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight.

How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.

But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep.

Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next.

There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.

But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.

After three months of questioning his existence.

All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason.

And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.

Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs.

Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.

The fuck.

Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.

Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.

And he doesn’t see your name.

Dumbass: 1 New Message

But your brother’s.

What the hell does he—

Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.

…Shit.

Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.

He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out?

Shit.

Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different.

Why can’t he fucking move?

Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook?

Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue.

Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.

“Hey, you coming?”

“Huh?”

“We have that session in thirty.”

The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.”

Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast.

But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.

“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch.

Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over

Fuck!

“You okay?”

“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.”

“Nah, come now.”

He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know.

Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out.

But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.”

Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio

“On time? You better!”

Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now.

As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak,

“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.”

Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.”

“Shit, I know.”

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Dude, relax, I get it.”

“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”

Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.”

“The… The overhead mic for the drums.”

Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous.

And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend.

“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz.

Dumbass: Incoming Call

Of fucking course.

Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.”

“Wait, where are the—”

Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen.

“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.”

“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.”

“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.”

“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?”

Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling.

“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”

“Shit.”

There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.

“Okay, fine.”

Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you.

Delusion is a great place to stay.

In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”

“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”

He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home.

There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.

Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side.

“Everything, Yoong.”

But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach.

So, so far away.

“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”

Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”

“Just lemme know when you get back.”

Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.”

“No running.”

“K.”

When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that.

“How did that sound?”

Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?”

“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.”

Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—

“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.”

“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?”

Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned.

Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.

Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep.

Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—

“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.”

What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes.

Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.”

Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in.

Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.”

“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.”

Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh.

“Kidding. Only a little.”

Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.

Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.

Choosing not to say what he wants to.

Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it.

…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?

Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought,

“Do the chorus again.”

The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?”

“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note,

“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.”

Done. He said it.

And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame.

Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—

“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.”

Huh. They’re gonna take that?

As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite.

The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, we can try that.”

“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”

Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”

“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”

Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod.

“Let’s see how it sounds.”

“K.”

Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.

A stare that lingers on him just a little too long.

The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else.

After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.

It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment.

Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it.

“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”

Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!”

Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure.”

At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies.

But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation.

Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking.

Hustler: Incoming C—

Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window.

But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start.

Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen.

As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some.

It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain.

Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Straight to voicemail? Shit.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now.

Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying.

Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll.

That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up.

Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?

Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later.

It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.

Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag.

Shit. How much of that did he witness?

“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”

Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.”

“Don’t wanna commit anymore?”

“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has.

And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.”

Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him.

To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”

Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.”

An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.”

Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.

What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation?

No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has.

“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.”

Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”

“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”

What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,

“It’s the food next door, huh.”

That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.

Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.

Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel.

And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else.

“If there’s something you need to get through...”

Stare, and stare, and stare some more.

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.

As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.

And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.

Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot.

And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard.

Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine.

Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing.

But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others.

And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.

Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.

And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom.

Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister.

And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country.

At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus.

What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all.

But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years.

Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together.

Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.

But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa.

Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—

“I went to Jimin’s last night.”

…What.

Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”

His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,

“Care to share what’s been going on?”

He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—

“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”

Fuck!

Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—

Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.

“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”

All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—

Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.

And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down.

“Can’t fucking believe you.”

When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”

“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”

Oh, fuck that.

Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”

“Say it—”

“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”

Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.

…Motherfucker, what?

Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too.

“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”

Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.

His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?

“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.”

No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”

“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”

“So everything I heard was a lie?”

“Huh?”

“He told me!”

He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.

What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true.

The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.

“You gonna say anything or what?”

Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything.

Even if it kills him.

“No, I, umm…”

“No?”

Just hurry up and fucking do it.

Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...”

His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”

What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.

In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“You sure?”

It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.”

A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears.

Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed.

Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink.

His ex?

As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—

“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”

“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”

It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,

“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.”

“Domestic?”

“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem.

When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”

Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”

“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.”

A sudden crack splits him through.

“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.”

The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard.

No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly.

Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.

And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.

“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.”

And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”

“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue.

Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.

Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want.

But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions.

“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..”

Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”

At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once,

“I think she feels all alone.”

This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes.

“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”

Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.

You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—

“I’m heading out again.”

Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”

Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.”

“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”

How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face.

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”

Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly.

On the run.

“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.”

“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”

Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”

At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”

And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…

Yoongi almost fucking confesses.

“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”

“You think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal…

Unprecedented.

“You’re the best out of all of us.”

Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.

And they both share a drink in respectful silence.

After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”

Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”

“You still are.”

“Says you!”

“I still am, too!”

Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck.

After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,

“Break up with her, Yoong.”

Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s over now.”

“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”

Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills.

“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.”

Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.”

“You sure it’s over?”

“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.”

“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice,

“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.”

Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success.

Get rid of it? He’s been trying.

For three. Fucking. Months.

“I might.”

“…K.”

And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.

Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.

Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands.

Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.

But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.

And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it.

What time is it?

All that greets him is darkness.

Nothing new, but darkness all the same.

Why was she mentioned? What does that mean?

He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend.

Her? You. His sheets still smell like you.

Inhale. Breathe. Inhale.

He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired.

And the darkness pulls him back under.

Without even telling him the time.

Buzzing.

Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck?

Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened.

Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone.

Hustler: Missed Calls (6)

Dumbass: 1 Message

Hustler: 3 Messages

Chim: 7 Messages

Chim: Missed Calls (3)

Holy fuck.

With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn.

“Oh, fuck. There you are.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—”

“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.”

Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake.

“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?”

There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears.

“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”

Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about.

“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”

Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut.

Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.

But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.

So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm.

“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest.

Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.

But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.”

Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.

“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.”

“He told you?”

“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.”

“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.”

“Ah.”

Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking.

“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?”

“That it’s done.”

A hum.

“That’s very true.”

There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?”

When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.

“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?”

“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.”

A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows,

“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.”

What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?”

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”

Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Knowing the answer.”

At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake.

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Annoying.”

“Love you, too!”

Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table.

Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?”

“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.”

He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.”

“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.”

“K. Same time tomorrow?”

“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.”

That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?”

“Relax! You will like it.”

“Chim, I swear—”

“You’ll thank me later bye!”

As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.

Exactly where he always ends up.

Exactly where he doesn’t want to be.

But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again.

Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too?

Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever

Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter.

He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day.

That sounds like fucking bliss.

Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful

Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today.

And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help.

All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance?

Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you

Fucking hell.

Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way.

Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…

All he wants to do is see you, too.

You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy.

After all this time. All these days and nights.

You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.

It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms.

But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left.

He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds.

How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice.

Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more.

Something that isn’t broken.

Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table.

What. No way.

From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark.

And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen.

Hustler: Incoming Call

But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.

And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight.

“Are we… is this over?”

Fuck.

“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.”

Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?”

“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”

“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.”

“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”

“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.”

Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside.

“Are you? With me?”

Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud,

“No way in hell, doll.”

Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned.

“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.”

That’s okay.

Because he’s had a day, too.

“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.”

Please keep going.

Please don’t leave him alone.

“Talk to me.”

Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit.

You’re so good at that.

“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—”

Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.

“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”

The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier.

“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky.

If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is.

The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.”

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah.”

You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it.

“What did he say?”

Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.”

“Oh, thank fuck.”

Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.”

“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?”

Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.”

And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.

“Me, too, baby.”

Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter.

Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?”

He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother.

“Just a little longer.”

He has to.

“Okay.”

Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too.

“Thank you.”

What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen.

“For putting up with me.”

Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours.

At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.

“Really?”

Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”

“Boo.”

Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”

“A ha… Yeah.”

“What are you still talking to me for?”

“I miss you.”

Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms.

Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”

God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.”

“Why?”

Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.”

“Fuck.”

Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?”

He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.

“I hate you.”

Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.”

“Ha ha.”

You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink.

“Nu uh! You hate me, too.”

Wait. Did you…

Did you just pout?

Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.”

“Wait, huh? Why!”

“Nothing.”

“I swear to god—”

“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear,

“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?”

The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.”

“Kitchen.”

The hell? “How’d you know?”

“You’re always in there.”

Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.”

“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?”

“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all.

“The world said let them cook.”

Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game.

But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you.

“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks.

After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing,

“You better sleep, too.”

“I will.”

With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue.

Because of you. It’s always you.

Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”

“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”

Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.”

There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves.

“Okay. Good night, baby.”

One more heartbeat to get him through the night.

“Night, doll.”

When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room.

Right towards the corner that stares back.

It’s been five days.

But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.

Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit.

And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange.

When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door.

…So what in the fuck was that?

You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress.

Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you.

He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too.

This is so hard.

The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself.

Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.

Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo

Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :)

No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect.

Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.

So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.

Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.

There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio.

What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.

Tonight.

This man.

I got the next one.

This wonderful, charming man.

But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi.

Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped.

After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.

The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further.

A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.

Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.

You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds.

And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep.

Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.

Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?

You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.

Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week.

Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.

Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly.

“Hey.”

All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers.

But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.”

You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.”

He simply huffs a quiet laugh.

“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.”

Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! I got big girl money now.”

Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker?

“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.”

“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”

The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal.

“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.”

It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.”

“Do better.”

Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.”

“What? Who said anything about dessert?”

“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to—

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”

“I am.”

The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.”

“That’s a given, though.”

“Excuse you.”

Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching.

“Mm, babe. One more thing.”

Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”

There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—

“I think we’re out of condoms.”

Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head.

“Wait. Or are we?”

Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”

And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green,

“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”

“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Found some?”

“No.”

Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”

And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness.

And you want that to be the case forever.

“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.”

“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.”

“Damn!”

As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes.

“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.”

There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—

“It’s gonna happen, doll.”

You clutch the wheel.

“Cus I want that, too.”

One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again.

Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned.

It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too.

“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.

“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”

His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!”

“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.”

“You could’ve asked somebody.”

Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering.

And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.

But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver.

“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…”

“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?”

“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”

Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him.

And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too.

Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection.

“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.”

And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”

“Uh huh.”

Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”

“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.”

Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink?

But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”

Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.”

Your turn to blink.

“And I needed food.”

This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—”

“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.”

The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen.

“Eat.”

The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”

“Mm.”

“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.”

“Just a bite then.”

Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try.

There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.”

Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”

A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”

The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”

That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”

His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze.

What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?”

“Everything.”

Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.”

Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper.

After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.”

You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold.

“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.”

You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do.

“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.”

There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?”

“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.

And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too.

“…Yeah.”

Fuck. “About what?”

“That you’d hate me.”

Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.”

“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.”

Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying.

“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.”

He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..”

He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.”

“You do?”

Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.”

“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.”

Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers.

“Hmm?”

He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh.

“Always, doll.”

And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.”

If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same.

The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time.

But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center?

Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?”

“Where we’re going.”

Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”

When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”

“Then why—”

He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward.

But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.

“You comin’?”

Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever.

Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”

And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.”

“Yoongi!”

Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else.

Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.

And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”

Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”

You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical.

So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”

Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump.

How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair.

After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him.

What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”

Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”

“So I shouldn’t bust in?”

Huh. “What?”

“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”

“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”

He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath.

Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”

“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”

The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face.

What is it with him and keys?

When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous,

“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”

You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage.

How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.

When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!

A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”

With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.”

“So fucking long.”

You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.

But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right?

Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.

“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.

Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.

Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours.

When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,

“You’re so cute.”

“How,” you ask just as softly.

And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”

Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.

But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile,

“Eat.”

“Huh?”

“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.

When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.

Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.

If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over!

Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.

And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.

The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.

“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.”

And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.

…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about.

No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here.

And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio.

Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma.

But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before.

Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here.

Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.

And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”

You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there.

“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”

“Thanks.”

You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”

Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.”

“Good. You bored?”

“Huh?”

Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”

“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use.

You could do this for eternity, too.

“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”

This man.

“Forever might be a stretch.”

“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take.

“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness.

So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.”

Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.”

“It was kinda hot.”

His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.”

Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.”

And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood.

But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history.

When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.”

“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.”

The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.”

“And why is that?”

“Cus of what I’m wearing.”

And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”

Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”

“Okay.”

But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”

“What.”

His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”

You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”

“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”

Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember?

“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d make you cry what the fuck!”

Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”

“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”

“It’s mine, I just ran out—”

“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands.

And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks.

Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!”

“Uh huh.”

You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around.

Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else.

Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.

You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in.

Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front,

“Careful, doll.”

“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?”

More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.”

Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”

“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.”

Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is.

Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return.

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.”

“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state.

“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.”

For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet.

At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before.

But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills.

Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them?

Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.

Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.

But team jerseys?

Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage.

When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone?

As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here.

Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second.

Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.

Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue.

They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about?

Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.”

“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.”

Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!”

You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start?

Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?”

Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why me?”

Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.”

“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?

Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”

“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!”

Ah, you were right. “I like it.”

Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?”

“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.”

Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.”

When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.”

You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.

A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead.

And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest.

Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long.

“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”

“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”

The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater.

Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother.

All you can do is stare back.

And without even realizing.

You’re already rubbing your arm.

tbc. :((

a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!

a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

#ITS FINALLY HEREEE #SHEESH #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts reactions #filter for fics:#*ryenfictalk #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #three tangerines #3tan11 #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #btsfic #*latest #ryenwrites

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ghouljams · 1 month

Note

Fae using magic to make their partners bodies adapt when mating is so hot!!! 😩 The thought that it would break them if it wasn't for Fae manipulating their anatomy... screaming crying throwing up

The monster fuckers can come get their juice now, I'm doing monster fucking, size queen, shit.

It should hurt, it should split you open until you scream and sob, but when König pushes his monstrous cock into you it's slick and pulsing. You can't take your eyes off of it, your breath hitching in your chest as he pushes and pushes it into your tight cunt. It must be magic that keeps you from ripping, must be magic that let's your pussy hug his cock like a vice as he eases each inch into you. Not even halfway through and you can tell his cock is starting to bulge out your stomach, you clench around him and a monstrous growl echoes through the forest. He stretches you past what you ever thought possible, squeezes against every soft spot within you, and lets you feel every delicious inch of him. You can feel every vein, the ridge of his bulbous head where it butts against your cervix. Fuck, he's already hit the end, there's no more space for him.

König grinds against you, stirring you with his fat cock and making heat sizzle up your spine. You whine, eyes fixed between your legs at the monster settled inside you, the length left to go. König gives a testing thrust and something in you shifts. You jerk, arch your back with a breathless gasp as your body adjusts for him, forces itself to make room for the cock bigger than your arm. It's like nothing you've ever felt before. You stare, unseeing, at the forest your body wrapping around König like it was made for him as he slides every fat inch into your cunt. Your eyes roll back, you can feel him nudge your ribs, can feel him stretching your shirt and pushing against the already sliced waistband of your pants, god...

His drool drips onto the forest floor, mushrooms sprouting from the decaying leaves where it pools. You can hear the low growl vibrating through his chest, can feel the creak of the claws holding you up, the spread of them, the way his pinky presses against the head of his cock. You look down and whimper at the absolutely destruction that must be coursing through your body, the huge cock magically forced inside of you. You can't bring a single thought to your head, can only do your best to swallow down the greedy drool that fills your mouth, and listen to the wind whispering at the presence of a king. You may as well be a fleshlight in his hands. You can't feel your legs.

König moves you up and down his cock, using you to pleasure himself. You watch the motion of it greedily, fascinated, you must be dead ten times over to be letting this happen. But it doesn't hurt, there's just the warm aching drag of his thick cock against your insides. Each gummy inch of your cunt tries to keep him inside, clenching when he bumps your sensitive spots, making tight heat pool in your stomach. It's such a heavy pressure, unyielding, and deadly the way it shocks pleasure up your spine with each inch of movement. You come on his cock without meaning too, the orgasm too deep and wanting for you to anticipate, it breaks through you and König whines at the squeeze of your walls around him.

"Meine Königin," he rumbles, the very air, the click of his claws and teeth, the rustle of his fur and spines, seem to speak for him, "if you don't relax it's going to hurt."

You take a shaking breath and tip your head back to look up at the monster over you. His eyes are red, his teeth like tombstones. You stick your tongue out for him, your lips parted and your eyes bleary with barely contained tears. He smiles, and dips down to shove his tongue down your throat, the appendage wiggling inhumanly to stretch your poor throat the way his cock has stretched your pussy. He only pulls away when your lungs are starting to burn and your vision is starting to darken at the edges. You suck in a breath as he pulls you up the length of his cock and shoves you back down. The burn of it rips through you, and you scream for the whole forest to hear.

"Little masochist," König chastises, "of course you'd want it to hurt."

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ilwonuu · 2 months

Note

Hi!! Saw your post about stray kids and help for ideas and it’s been BUGGING ME FOR DAYS about how Chan reacts throughout the whole pregnancy

(I’m in my soft girl era with him rn and oh gods it’s killing me 😩❤️)

Also I love your works! :))❤️

i literally could not write this when you first requested bc i was busy at that moment. but its been on my brain i needed to write it asap THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING SOMETHING!!! i hope you like<3

*°:⋆ₓₒ bangchan during your pregnancy ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

∘°∘♡∘°∘°.✩┈┈∘*┈˃̶୨୧˂̶┈*∘┈┈✩.° ∘°∘♡∘°∘

mentions sex, fluff!!! mdni

✾ bangchan who is so excited when you tell him you’re pregnant. he even cries in your arms with happiness. “i can’t believe i’m gonna have a baby with you. you’re gonna be the best mom.”

✾ bangchan who is nervous about the news but is always strong for you.

✾ bangchan who is making sure you eat what you want and need whenever.

✾ bangchan who comes to you in your 7th week with baby names. him telling you that of course whatever name you two choose is the perfect one.

✾ bangchan who would never waste a moment to have his hands on you. his love language easily being shown with the way he acts towards you. any chance he has he is hugging you or kissing you.

✾ bangchan who loves your tummy. when you started to show he would be obsessed. always laying on your thighs so he is closer. he would always talk to your stomach. he would leave kisses all over your stomach to help you fall asleep.

✾ bangchan who loves to fuck you sweetly while your pregnant. him telling you how good it feels and how pretty you look.

✾ bangchan who always would eat your pregnancy cravings with you just for fun. he would tell you his opinions on them. always making sure you have what you need from the grocery store.

✾ bangchan who would realize the bad day you were having. he would cook you dinner and set a nice bath. making sure you get all the pampering you need to feel better.

✾ bangchan who gives you massages and legs rubs even when you don’t ask. he just wants an excuse to be close to you and for you to be relaxed.

✾ bangchan who constantly took photos of the two of you throughout pregnancy for memories. always adding that you look beautiful in the photos.

✾ bangchan who always was talking to his members about how happy is. always saying how much he loves you to them. (his members love you very much too) him also going to them when he did something to upset you.

✾ bangchan who always was patient with you when you’re upset or uncomfortable. he never got upset with you always listening to you and helping to make sure you’re feeling better. always resolving the conflicts and listening to you (even if you’re wrong lmfao)

✾ bangchan who always wakes up before you. his body picking up a routine so that if you need him he is awake when you get up.

✾ bangchan who gets a bunch of gifts for you and the baby randomly. saying he doesn’t need a reason to spoil you.

✾ bangchan who stresses so much when you tell him your water broke. him gathering every single thing you need and getting you to the hospital.

✾ bangchan who holds your hand and never leaves your side as you go into labour. him whispers to you telling you what a perfect job your doing.

✾ bangchan who cries in the hospital room when he holds your baby for the first time. his reaction causing you to cry with him.

✾ bangchan who is the happiest person in the world when you two take your baby home.

✾ bangchan who is spending his time with you two as much as possible. always telling you he loves you 100 times a day.

#skz stay #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz #skz bang chan #bang chan #bangchan fluff #bangchan smut #bangchan stray kids #stray kids fic #stray kids smut #stray kids #stray kids bang chan #bangchan fic

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sunflowersteves · 10 months

Note

can you write about carmy getting his first blowjob????

the way I crave this man is insane 😩 of course I can, hun

pairing || carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings || fluff, established relationship, reader has manicured nails, SMUT, blowjob, mention of eating out, praise kink, 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

masterlist

It was way past closing time at the restaurant. All of the other employees had left, finishing their duties, while Richie was furiously cleaning the floors. His arm felt like it was about to fall off as he scrubbed the dirty tile.

Carmen, on the other hand, was chopping vegetables. His hand moved fast across the cutting board, making thumping sounds as the knife sliced each carrot.

Richie scoffed. “Do you seriously need to do this right now, cousin?”

Carmen didn’t even blink. He just continued to chop up the remaining vegetables, with all of his focus on cooking. After putting the carrots into the pot, he starts to finely dice a red onion.

“Yes, cousin. I just—I just need to perfect this recipe, and then we’re good.”

Richie rolled his eyes but still scrubbed. “You’re such a jagoff.”

Carmen had a habit of trying to perfect every single recipe thrown his way. When he tasted the soup earlier, his nose scrunched up. Something about it just felt off—and it was driving him insane. It tasted too salty and too acidic. He needed to figure out how to make it better.

He turned to the boiling pot of chicken stock and gently placed the onion slices into the stew. “Yo, cousin. I got it. Go home.” He didn’t even wait for an answer as he expertly sliced into a tomato.

Richie stood up from the ground. “Sure. Just don’t make your girl wait too long.”

For the first time in their conversation, Carmen looked over at him. There was even a small smile on his lips. “Never. Not to her.”

Richie half-smiled. “Alright, you fuckin’ sap. I’m leaving.” On the inside, Richie was beaming. He couldn’t get over how happy you make Carmen—hell, how happy you make the whole kitchen. Your presence was entirely needed in a place like this.

He knocked twice on the office door and announced his leave to you. You opened the door with a wide grin and bid him goodnight. “Don’t forget to tell Eva about the tickets!” You called out as Richie walked out the door.

Richie was practically glowing at the mention of his daughter. “Thank you for finding amazing seats, by the way, sweetheart! You’re a fucking lifesaver!” With that, Richie was out of sight as the door closed on him.

Carmen’s eyes flickered up at the sound of your voice. His head swiveled around to see you already staring at him. Your body leaned over the office door frame—pretty manicured nails sparkling against the contrasted white of the walls.

“Hi, baby.” He says.

“Hi, Carm.” You say back, smiling.

He puts the sharp knife down and wipes his hand on the towel that was over his shoulder. You walk over to him in the kitchen, and he relishes the proximity of your presence. Your fingers trace the outline of his bicep, and a shiver crawls up his spine. Your hand settles onto his shoulder, and you give a small squeeze.

Your relationship was fairly new. It would officially be three months tomorrow, to be exact. It had gone by pretty fast if he was being honest, but it just felt so good being with you. Despite the newly founded relationship, Carmen couldn’t get over how much you truly mean to him.

You were everything from the late Sunday mornings of snuggling under the sheets to the crazy late nights of telling stories out in the front house of the restaurant. To make matters worse, you got along so well with all of the staff at The Bear. You calmed him down when everything seemed to be directly opposing him. You were always there to press a finger to his chin and a kiss on his cheek. He swore his heart palpitated against his chest every time he thought about you.

“Can I taste?”

He nodded, grabbing a small spoon and dipping it into the soup. His hand hovered under the bottom so it wouldn’t spill. “Open your mouth, baby.”

You did as he said and let your jaw slack open. He places the spoon into your mouth, and you let the delicious, salty soup slide down your throat.

You moan against the spoon. “Holy fuck, Carm.” His eyes never left your face in an attempt to understand your reaction. “That was the best thing I have ever tasted.”

He finally smiles. He felt like he was glowing. “You say that every time I ask you to try something.”

You slid your hand down his chest, feeling the imprint of the chain that rests under his uniform. “And I mean it every fucking time.” His heart buzzed against his chest. His mind felt hazy. He wrapped an arm around your waist and squeezed the soft, plush flesh. His bright eyes were so intense—so full of affection—that it was starting to make you feel hot.

“You wanna taste it too?” You asked innocently.

He nodded and reached for another clean spoon. You smiled wide at the idea of him getting a sparkling clean spoon. He was quickly derailed by the way your lips crashed onto his. He let out a surprised groan, his eyes fluttering close.

You moved in sync until you pushed your tongue into his mouth and tasted the sweet essence of him. He tasted the chicken and onions from the delectable, tasty soup. It was much better than what he had tasted earlier. “Fuck—” He murmured in between the deep kisses. You bubbled out a laugh, but his hand stayed firm on your waist. He didn't want to end the way he felt when your lips graced his own.

You pull apart after the desperation of air becomes too much. You almost laugh again at the sight of his swollen lips and pretty pink cheeks. “See? Taste’s good, doesn’t it?”

A small smirk caressed his lips, but the flustered look was still there. “It tastes very good, sweet girl.”

The nickname prickled goosebumps onto your arms. He has called you that since your third date, but it never ceases to make your heart flutter. He knows it too.

You both start to gravitate toward each other once more. This time the kiss was more intense, with more teeth clashing and attempting to bruise each other’s lips.

“Carmy.” You whine. He growled into you in response and pressed another searing kiss onto your mouth. His hands grip your waist even tighter as if to pull you in even more. A moan slipped from the back of your throat.

Your hands move to the plains of his chest before pushing the two of you apart. His eyebrows furrow as you completely pull away from his embrace. Did he hurt you? It was all he could think. He didn’t want to fuck this up. No, he can’t fuck this up.

“Baby?” He whispers, sounding uncertain.

You don’t say a thing as you sink your knees to the ground, causing Carmen to gasp. His eyes were wide as his stare intensified. “F-Fuck.” His mouth bobs open and closed, trying to find some other words, but all he does is whisper your name.

Your hands moved up and down his thighs. The fabric of his chef uniform was soft against your palms. “Can I take care of you, Carmy?”

Oh, fuck. Your voice sounded so sweet—so thick and kind against his ears. He could feel his cock throb at the anticipation of your touch.

You wait for his answer, still gently rubbing his thighs back and forth. He felt like he was on fire. Nerves crash over him, though. His heart starts to speed up at the anxiety that prickles his skin. He had never done this before.

It wasn’t that the opportunity didn’t arise because it did. You asked many times if he wanted a blowjob, but all he wanted was to lick into your folds again. It was like his mind was drunk off of the sweet, tangy nectar, and he wasn't about to let go. He needed you more and more. He discovered he was much more of a giver.

Normally, he takes his sweet time with you. The first time he had ever tasted anyone was you. He always asks—that desperation in his voice. “Can I taste you? Please? F-Fuck, I see you dripping. Oh—Please?” Once he got confirmation, he would spread your legs and dip his tongue into your sweet folds. He could eat you out for hours—and he has.

He would groan against you as his tongue pushed through your folds. You tasted tangy and sour—so sweet to his taste buds, making his hands grip an indent into your flesh. The whimpers and whines that you let out are music to his ears, and he wishes the sounds were burned onto his soul. His eyes would always be latched onto yours, refusing to break the intense contact. He could fucking live in your pussy.

He couldn’t say no to you, though, could he? His cock was about ready to start leaking pre-cum. Your eyes looked so dilated and large with lust that he couldn't resist.

“F-fuck, okay. Yeah, baby. J-just—” He breaks out into a moan from your eager hands. They pushed down his pants, pooling around his ankles almost in an instant.

“Wait-wait—”

You stop immediately and let go of his thighs. Some concern is etched across your face, and it makes his heart skip a beat.

“I just—I just want you to know that I’ve never done this before. I don’t—” He gulps. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

You almost let out a gasp. It was his first blowjob that you were going to give him, and he was worried about you. His eyebrows are furrowed and he's huffing out a breath. He just didn't want you to feel like you have to do something like this.

“Oh, Carmy, baby, I’m not uncomfortable at all. I’ve been wanting to do this to you for so long, but you kind of get distracted.” There was that implication that he knew about so well. A blush kissed the tip of his ears.

“You sure, baby? I’m not-I’m not forcing you?”

You wanted to know who hurt this man. His anxiety about making you feel comfortable was always through the roof. You grabbed his clenched hand and opened his palm. You pressed a sweet kiss. “No, baby. You’re not forcing me.”

He visibly relaxes his shoulders. “Okay.” He breathes out. “Okay.”

You avert your attention back to his thighs—and what’s between them. He could practically see your mouth water at the bulge that protruded out from his boxers. Carmen had always been big. No one had ever told him that before, in the late kind-of drunken night stands that he had. When you first had sex at his apartment and could really take a peek at his weeping cock, your eyes widened drastically.

You knew he was big, but goddamn, he is big.

“Can I, handsome?”

You looked up at him with a cute smile. The nickname caused his heart to stutter—his cheeks deepening the shade of red. "Yeah, baby." He says. Then he whispers, “Please.”

You dragged his boxers down his thighs, and they pooled right on top of his slacks. His cock sprung up from the force—already more than half hard and aching. His eyes can’t seem to stare at anything else but you. You looked so eager—so excited—to have his dick right in front of your face. It made his stomach flip.

Your hand curls around the base, and he sucks in a breath. Your fingers just barely wrapped around the entirety of his length. Your manicured nails dug slightly into the large vein on the side—it made him choke on his own spit.

“So fuckin’ big, Carmy.” You whined. You started to pump, it was a small motion, but it still made him moan. It sounded so desperate, making your ears ring. You couldn’t wait any longer, mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum already sprouting from his tip.

You kissed the tip of his cock, and he shivered. “F-Fuck, baby—” He moans. He could feel his whole body throbbing—aching at the way you made him feel.

You swirl your tongue around the ruddy tip and continue to tease him, wrapping your lips around the sensitive area. His hand immediately goes to the back of your head, unable to help himself. “Oh, fuck, holy shit—your fucking mouth, shit—”

His knees wobbled, the other hand steadying himself on the kitchen counter. “Y’taste so good, Carmy.” Your words were slurred with lust, making his own eyes dilate. His heart palpitated at you loving this—the insecurities from earlier disappearing like water down a drain.

You start to take him even further. Your lips slowly ease down his cock, and one of your hands, still wrapped around the shaft, gave a squeeze. He choked on nothing and watched how you hollow your cheeks. You’re only halfway, but he swears he is seeing stars. “Feels so good, baby—so fucking good.” He squeezes his hand.

Pride blooms within you, as well as the praises from him making you clench around nothing. You wanted to start touching yourself, but the intense desperation to keep a hand on his cock was greater. You choked a little as his hips unconsciously gave a small thrust. It made him let out a loud moan.

He’s not sure where the confidence came from, but it’s spewing out of his mouth before he can stop it. “Fucking—shit—can you take all of it, sweet girl? Hmm?”

He licks his lips. “Can you t-take my whole cock in your mouth?” He lets out a huff of air as you moan around his cock. “Be–be my good girl, yeah?”

The only confirmation you can give is the way your eyes gloss over. Tears threaten to poke out from your eyes, and the sight makes Carmen let out a curse. You slowly, yet again, take more of him in your mouth.

“F-fuck,” he drags out. “Good girl—good fuckin’ girl. That’s it.” His knees wobble again, but he stays steady. Pure bliss sprouts in his stomach as he can feel the hot, searing pleasure from your wet mouth.

You were able to fully take him—nose brushing up against the hair on his pubic bone. He groans and whimpers at the sight of you breathing deeply with his cock shoved down your throat. “Shit–shit–fuck, baby. That’s my pretty girl. Look–look at you choking on my cock. Holy shit—” He whined out.

Warmth spreads through your chest at the adoration and lust that flows through his eyes. He can’t stop staring at the way you are just barely able to take him whole. His eyes widened even more as he watched you shove your hand down your shorts.

“Oh, baby—” he says in a coo. “Look so good like that, huh? Fuckin’ touching yourself.” You could feel the way his cock twitches in his mouth. God, where was this coming from? He thought. Something about how your eyes sprung with more tears and you desperately humping your hand for some release was making him insane.

He thrusts in and out of you, fucking up into your throat. You gagged around the girth of his cock and garbled out a cry. He moaned and whined at the feeling of your throat constricting against his cock and listened to the wet sounds of it all.

“Gonna–gonna cum, baby.” He swore that he saw your eyes sparkle—as if you wanted it all down your throat. He could feel that familiar swirl of an organism puncturing his chest. He panted as he watched the way his cock disappeared into your throat—it was a fucking sight.

His eyes suddenly turn nervous. “Can-can I cum down your throat? Please?” He sees the way you nod with your mouth full, but he sees it. He sees the raw want and needs that fills your eyes. Yeah, you wanted his cum. You needed his cum.

“Shitshitshit—” He stammers, thrusting into you two, three times. He groans out, low and guttural, as his seed spills into the back of your throat. He moans out your name in between shaken breaths from the ropes flowing through your mouth—salty and sour. He continues to pump into you, and you swallow every single drop—the added friction of your throat making him whimper.

His hips still, but his cock stays inside of your mouth, twitching in pleasure. You hum around the base and watch as his body almost writhes. He looks down at you with the most content and relaxed smile you had seen.

You slowly pulled your mouth off of him; the pop noise was small. You started to press sweet kisses to his thighs, his hand going back to rest on your head. “Feel good, bear?”

His eyes were shining. “Felt so good, baby. Y’did so well.” Now his words were slurred with lust. He just couldn’t help but let his whole world revolve around you for a moment.

You gently put on his boxers and do the same to his chef slacks. He offers you his hand, and he helps you pull yourself up. You wince at the sting in your knees, but in a way, it felt good.

He immediately takes you into an embrace, not uttering a word. You gladly let him and rest your arms over his shoulder. He grabs your waist tightly and lets his head fall on your shoulder. He breathes in deeply, letting the scent that he knows so well flow into his nose.

He was completely and utterly relaxed—it was a sensation he didn’t feel all that often. You press a gentle kiss to his hair and then to his temple. The two of you just stood like that for some time, saying nothing and enjoying one’s company.

Both of your attention to each other had ceased as the pot that was on the stove had boiled over. A lot of the soup had crashed onto the burning stove. "Fuck!"

Carmen immediately turned the stove off and let out a relieved sigh that nothing had burned. It would just be a bitch to clean up. You hand him a clean washcloth with a slightly guilty look on your face. He took the cloth from you with an annoyed (it was minorly annoyed) glare before wiping down the area.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Carm." You say, watching his arms flex. "I don't regret a thing."

He rolled his eyes but chuckled under his breath. "Yeah, yeah. Fuck you." The cursing was lighthearted because he knew it too. He didn't regret anything either. In fact, he encouraged something like this again, maybe just without being in the middle of cooking.

He tried the soup again with the dirty spoon—he had a suspicion that it was going to be thrown out anyway. "Shit—Fuck—it's overcooked."

You laughed, one hand resting on your chest. He glared again. "Hey, you can't—seriously, we burned the soup. It's shit."

He still might not admit it, but you could see the way his eyes were still glossed over from the earth-shattering orgasm. He could even feel his cock jump from the way that he watched you bite your lip.

You pressed a finger onto his chin, thumb resting on his jaw. "It'll be okay, Carm." You squeezed his jaw. "You can make some more tomorrow. I’ll help."

Finally, he smiled. Yeah, tomorrow, he thought. His eyes still looked glossy, and his loopy smile was bright. "Let's clean up and go home.”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto smut #smut

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jarofstyles · 4 months

Note

#3, #5, and #26 of the smut prompts were so good!! would love to read a blurb/one-shot from you that included any of those😩

Oooo Lemme add them all together!

Patreon

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"Mm... Baby." He laughed darkly, smearing his thumb over her cheek. "Can't pull out when you wrap your legs around me like that." His rocking thrusts were moving the bed, her orgasm drawn out with each thrust. He'd made her finish around him already, his own end getting close... but she wouldn't budge. She'd said he could go bare, but pull out- but that isn't what she wanted anymore.

She shook her head, tightening her legs around his hips. It was impossible to think straight when he was inside of her. His thrusts stayed at the same pace, eyes glued to her as she squeezed him both with her thighs and her cunt. He let out a deep groan, fingers holding her chin. "Use your words, sweetheart. Or m'gonna have to stop. M'close." His voice was slightly slurred from the pleasure but god, he was firm about it.

"Don't. Please don't." She pleaded, nails grazing down his flexed back. The blades of his shoulders could be felt with each push in, her body still sensitive and close to another orgasm. "I take it back, I want it. Please, I need it." Her sticky lips pouted up at him. Surely, the girl was a mess. Hot and sweaty, hair stuck to her face and spit on her chin. "Want to feel you inside me. Please?" It was their first time not using a condom and fuck if it wasn't incredible. She felt so connected, so raw and needy with him. Of course it had always felt good, but being able to feel every inch, every ridge and vein, the knowledge that she was soaking his cock properly? It made her a bit crazy. "Please, Daddy."

The groan that left his mouth was exactly what she wanted, his eyes boring into hers as his jaw clenched. That nickname, the honorific, it got him every single time. "Filthy fucking thing. Love you so much, but you're playing dirty." He pressed a punishing kiss to her mouth as his thrusts began to lose their tempo. "Driving me crazy. Dunno how I lived without you before, without this." His nose brushed hers. "So pretty like this. Wrapped around my cock, letting me take you bare... Messy face." He loved every bit. "Love making you feel good. Your eyes always glaze over when you cum, and I can see it in your face. Fuck me." His mouth ghosted hers as his brows knitted together, feeling her pull her legs tighter around him.

"Give me your cum." She whispered against his lips."I want it inside me. Want to feel you there, want it to leak out of me. Please?" Little pecks began to be pressed to his lips. "Please, please, please... Own me, Daddy. Make me yours."

Harry was a goner, especially after that. He could feel the final thread snap, his mouth falling open and a loud moan left his swollen lips while she suckled on his bottom one, letting go inside of her. Cock pulsing as he painted her cunt white, unloading inside of her as his arms shook a little bit. "Oh my god..." He choked, thrusting once more to bury as deep as he could. "You're going to kill me."

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry writing #harry styles one shot #jarofstyles #harry drabble #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry smut #harry fluff #harry angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles blurbs

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southerngothicchic · 4 months

Text

Oh, to be seduced by King!Steve 😩

18+

"Mmm, angel..." Steve breathes, against your lips, "aren't you glad you agreed to come over?"

You can hardly answer as he kisses you again. His body presses yours into his sheets, with his hand underneath your blouse, cupping your breast over your bra.

"We were supposed to be studying..." you say, which sounds more like a whine.

"Yeah, but isn't this better?" He asks, leaning closer pressing his nose into your cheek.

"Steve..."

He hums as his lips are on yours again. Your hands leave his shoulders and move to his hair. It's still perfectly coiffed, with a single curl falling onto his forehead.

"I forgot you're so innocent..." he begins, slightly pulling away. "Its cute, how you think I don't notice how you look at me. Just longing for something you never thought you'd have..."

Your eyes widen, internally panicking over him seeing right through you.

He leans in again, his plush lips teasing yours as he continues, " but you have me now, angel...I'm all yours."

He kisses you deeply, lowly moaning as he presses more of his body against yours. Whimpering, you reciprocate his kiss, just melting into it. Your lungs burn as you pull him closer, never wanting this to end.

"Did you dream about me kissing you like

this?" He finally asks, panting.

You nod, sheepishly.

"I bet you did more than just dream..." he grins. "I wanna hear all the filthy things you've imagined me doing to you, angel."

You gasp, losing the ability to speak as his lips kiss their way to your neck. He lightly nibbles on your skin, smiling as he glances up at you.

"Aww, are you too shy to tell me?"

Your cheeks are a shade of crimson as you shakily exhale.

"I don't think I-"

He then quickly raises his head and cuts you off with a kiss.

"Its ok. I'll start by telling you mine first, then we'll go from there," he comforts, nuzzling his nose against yours. "I've dreamed about burying my face between your thighs and tasting you for hours..."

A small gasp escapes your lips, as his hand slowly moves from under your shirt, to the waist of your jeans.

"Then making you scream from my fingers..." he adds, as his hand cups you through the denim. "Before fucking you properly, of course. That's what I've fantasized about the most, all the places I want to fuck you..."

You sigh his name, as he unbuttons your jeans.

"I mean, this is already the most obvious place, but there's bending you over my desk, in the shower, and one of my favorites- the backseat of my car..."

He kisses you as he slips his hand into your panties. You feel his lips curl into a smile while you whimper from the teasing glide of his finger.

"Maybe we can bring that particular fantasy to life after school tomorrow...what do you think, angel?"

#king!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut

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libraryofloveletters · 3 months

Note

Being Jubes number 1 supporter at his games, he’s all in love cause he’s so boyfriend. Maybe Erling or Gio being haters in the comments (as a joke ofc)

- pookie 🫡

bitch you know I had to do this one rn // all pictures are from pinterest and/or instagram.

home is where you are

youruser added two instagram stories

—

judebellingham

liked by youruser, jordanhenderson, fabriziorom and 8,153,644 others

judebellingham: Hola Madridistas!🤍

It is the proudest day of my life to join the greatest club in the history of the game. I will give absolutely everything I have to help this team win. Thank you for the amazing welcome. HALA MADRID!!!🤍🤍🤍

location: madrid// tagged: realmadrid

view 53,595 comments

vinijr: 🔥🤍

youruser: so proud of you baby!! 🥹♥️

comment liked by judebellingham

user22: i just know he’s gonna fit right into the team

user5: omg his mom is standing on business 😭

↪️user7: it's always like that!! his mom: 🙂 - his dad: 😁

jobebellingham: 😍🤍

jackgrealish: Congratulations brother 👏👏❤️❤️

—

youruser added an instagram story.

—

judebellingham

liked by jobebellingham, szoboszlaidominik, youruser and 1,943,567 others

judebellingham: Thank you to everyone who came down to Store Twenty Two. Adidas x Brum!!!❤️‍🔥

location: birmingham // tagged: adidaslondon

view 45,954 comments

adidaslondon: renaming this account adidasbrum

↪️judebellingham: do it

adidasorginal: 📍💙🤝

youruser: proud is an understatement 😩🫶🏽

↪️judebellingham: ❤️❤️

user9: ^they make me feel more and more single everyday

—

youruser

liked judebellingham, jobebellingham, vinijr and 832,563 others

youruser: the last month has been such a whirlwind and I don’t even have the words to express what I’m feeling. Jude’s said it all in his post but those of you that have been his fan since his beginning at dortmund, know that I’ve been around since then too and been his bigger supporter (aside from his family of course) - to everyone at dortmund, thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving him and helping him reach his potential, you’ll always hold a special place in our hearts. 💛🖤

madrid has welcomed us with open arms and we couldn’t be more grateful. looking forward to spending the next few years here, we love you already! 🤍

and to my jude, you are the best of the best. I love you and I’m so proud of you - as I seem to lack the words to truly express how in awe of you I truly am. I can’t wait to see you show everyone what you’re made of. ♥️

tagged: judebellingham

view 25,967 comments

youruser: his mama took the last pic lool - we were exhausted from traveling and unpacking and just conked out on the closest surface 😭

judebellingham: I love you! there’s no one else I’d want by my side ♥️♥️

comment liked by youruser

user5: I’m so single, this made me sick

↪️jobebellingham: me too

↪️user5: JOBEEE WHAT ARE YOU DOINF HERE BYE LFKSJBFOIEBF

jackgrealish: crying in the club brb

↪️youruser: fedexing you some tissues jack <3

user7: the fact that so many of the england boys and the dortmund players are in her comments supporting Jude and her 🥹

erlinghaaland: why didn’t I get a post like this when I left for city ? 🙄

↪️youruser: cause you went to city 🤮 KIDDINGGGGG - its cause you bullied me before you left🙄

bellingggoooallll: y/n is already the superior wag

comment liked by youruser

gioareyna: where’s my shoutout ?? you don’t miss me ?? do I mean nothing to you??

↪️youruser: why are you like this 😭

a series of y/n instagram's stories.

#anj's 8k series #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football instagram au #football social media au #football smau

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theemporium · 10 months

Note

THAT DANNY SMUT WAS AMAZING 😩 if you’re able to, can you write one along the lines of him body worshipping the reader after he finds out that she is insecure about her smile, reader brought up that his smile is her favorite feature and that he makes up for both of them since hers is bad and he’s like 😁🤨 , LMAO he begins to think about it and realizes that she always covers her mouth and has never seen her real smile :( even though she puts up a fight, he fucks her dumb and makes her smile during it . “ don’t cover your face..fuck this is what you been hiding from me” while he squished your cheeks together UGH

thank you so much!! and thank you for requesting!🖤

Despite how new your relationship with the Aussie driver was, he worked out pretty quickly that you didn’t like being the object of focus whenever he had his camera in his hands.

And for the life of him he couldn’t work out why.

There had been countless times over the last few months since you started dating Daniel where he would whip out his camera—whether it was on one of your cute dates or a casual day at home—and point it towards you, wanting nothing more than to catch your beauty in a candid moment.

And every single time you had managed to cover your face or turn away before he could click the button.

It took weeks for him to ask you, and when he heard your reasoning, he swore something in chest cracked a little.

“I just don’t like my smile,” you had admitted to him with a sheepish expression on your face. “But it’s fine. Your smile is pretty enough for the both of us, baby.”

But Daniel didn’t like that. He didn’t like the way you put yourself down like that, so casually like it was natural. And he didn’t like that fact in the months he had been dating you, he hadn’t seen your proper smile in the course of your relationship. And he certainly didn’t like the idea that you didn’t think you deserved to be the muse of his photography account when that was all he wanted to post about these days.

He didn’t like any of it and he swore he would make you change your mind. And the thing was that Daniel could be very persuasive, both with his words and with his cock.

“Danny,” you gasped as your body jolted with each thrust, tits bouncing and walls clenching around his cock like you could feel him any deeper than you already did.

“That’s it, baby, gimme another one,” he groaned as he squeezed your hips, his hooded eyes focused on the way his cock disappeared inside you with each thrust of his hips. “Wanna feel you come again for me, pretty girl.”

“C-Can’t,” you sobbed and shook your head, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you as he continued to fuck you like you were just a toy for him to use. God, even the idea made you clench around him. “Too much.”

“Nuh uh,” he groaned and shook his head as he looked up at you, your head falling back against the pillow as your lips parted with your pretty moans. “Gonna keep going until you give me what I want. Not gonna stop fucking you silly until you show me that smile of yours, pretty girl.”

Almost instinctively your hands went to your face. “Danny—”

“No,” he groaned as he gripped your wrists, both of your hands pinned above your head by one of his as he glared down at you. “No hiding from me.”

And he could’ve sworn his heart wanted to burst when you finally gave him the smile he was waiting for, the way he had to hold back his own release as he squished your cheeks with his free hand and grinned down at you.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he murmured before he leaned down to kiss your pretty smile, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. “C’mon, baby, smile for me while you come around my cock.”

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grxmreaperx · 7 months

Note

Hi!!

I just read your Mark Hoffman fic and I loved it!! Would you be willing to write something with Hoffman being a little obsessed with the reader? any further plot is totally up to you, I just need more Hoffman fics. 😩 Angst, fluff, smut (if you’re okay with that of course!)?

God, I love this request!! I’m all for men being obsessed in fics. And there’s no way I can answer this request and NOT write my first Hoffman smut (👀)

Also, you’ve all been so sweet and lovely ahhh I’m so glad I made this blog!!

You Belong to Me

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x reader (reader is AFAB)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+!! Smut!! Kinda went off with this ngl. I had way too much fun with this. Mark being very dominant and obsessed with the reader. Praise and degradation kink. Hair pulling, spanking, cream pie. Mark being very possessive. Oral sex (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), p in v penetration. Every ounce of feminism left my body writing this.

Summary: Upon John’s request, you’ve been working as Mark’s secretary at the precinct in order to keep you off the list of suspects in the search for Jigsaw’s accomplice. Did Mark really expect you to not take this golden opportunity to mess with him? As much as he appreciates the tight pencil skirts you’ve started wearing to work, he does not appreciate the attention it is drawing from his coworkers.

You were driving him absolutely insane. He wasn’t sure whether to bash John’s skull in or worship him like Amanda does for placing you here. He already had a hard enough time focusing on stake outs and working on traps with you, and now you were here. In his place of work, where he was supposed to be professional, supposed to pretend he had never seen you before you had your “interview.”

Mark knew exactly what you were doing. Your first day you walked in here, friendly smile on your pretty face, pencil skirt glued to your legs, staring right at him.

“Good morning, Detective Hoffman.”

God, he was going to kill John.

He hadn’t exactly had time for a sex life since everything went down. His sister’s death, planning Seth Baxter’s fate, joining Jigsaw, all on top of his detective work. And it hadn’t really bothered him; he had more important things to think about.

Until John decided you’d be a perfect addition to the team.

---

You knew your plan was working exactly how you wanted.

John hadn’t tested him yet, so why shouldn’t you? The detective needed to be tested, didn’t he?

You saw how he stared at you when you walked into work each morning, spending the time before your shift picking out the perfect outfit that you knew would drive the man mad.

You had decided months ago that you tired of the tension, the pull you felt towards the man every night you spent working together. And now John, bless his soul, had given you the perfect opportunity to do something about it.

You had seen some of the other men at the station watching you, eyes hovering a bit too long on your legs and ass. It didn’t bother you much, you ignored them for the most part, they weren’t your test subject, they weren’t your detective, so you hardly even noticed.

But, oh, did Mark notice. He noticed every fucking time. And every time was a new test of his willpower. Every single time, all he could think about was what sort of trap he could devise that would be worthy of the pigs who dared look at you.

---

“How you doing today, honey?” You turned around in your chair and saw Henry Miller, one of the cops that was most persistent with you. You were friendly with him; he was nice enough. The only problem was he thought he had a shot with you.

“Morning, Henry. I’m doing alright, how are you today?”

“I’d be a lot better if you finally let me take you out tonight.”

You scoffed. “How many times do I need to tell you I’m not interested before it finally gets through?”

He leaned on your desk, hands resting on the table, staring intently at you from across the surface. “Cmon, baby. Just one dinner, that’s all I ask. I’m very persistent.”

“Miller, isn’t there something you’re supposed to be doing?” You recognized the deep voice instantly and had to stop yourself from grinning. This was perfect.

The smile dropped from Henry’s face when he saw Hoffman staring daggers at him. He looked like a deer in the headlights, a child that had been caught stealing candy.

“Yes, sir,” he muttered, before quickly making his way back to his desk.

“And you,” he started, eyes on you. “In my office.”

You flashed him your best smile. “Of course, Detective.”

----

“Sit down.”

You sat down in the chair across from him, trying to scope out the look on his face. His jaw was tense and shoulders tight. He looked like he was about to explode.

“What the fuck was that?”

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

He sucked in a breath. “Bullshit.” He stood up, slowly making his way around the table. “You walk in here every day, in your tight little skirts, giving me that proud little smile, and you’re going to sit here and act like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing? I don’t think so, sweetheart.” He placed on a hand on each armrest, eyes boring down into you. “Now, let’s try again, shall we? What the fuck was that?”

Bingo.

You smiled up at him. “I just want to look nice for you, Detective.”

He shook his head and gritted his teeth. “Oh, you wanna look pretty for me, is that it?” You nod. “You know what would make you look real pretty? Get on your fucking knees.”

Embarrassingly quick, you sink out of the chair and onto your knees, staring up at the man. He smirks.

“Well? You just gonna stare at me? Don’t act like you don’t know what to do.”

You reach up and slowly get to work on his belt, trying to act like you still have some sort of control. Not that you minded, but it was still nice to pretend.

All resolve left you went he wrapped a hand in your hair, pulling back until your chin was pointed up at him. “Don’t do that. You’ve teased me enough. Now it’s your turn.”

You pulled down his pants just enough to reach his dick. You sucked in a breath. You had some idea of what you were in for, but fuck.

You tried to tease him a bit more, you really did, but as soon as you heard the deep groan when you took him into your mouth, you were done for.

His hand in your hair guided you, bobbing your head on his dick, feeling it hit the back of your throat each time. Each tug on your hair, each time you felt the tip of his dick down your throat, you felt a spark go straight between your legs. You looked up at him through thick eyelashes, eyes slightly teary, spit spilling over your lips.

“God, I knew it. You do look very pretty like this, sweetheart.”

You were slightly disappointed when he finally pulled your head back, dick soaked with your spit. “Get up.”

You shakily got to your feet, suddenly aware of how much of a mess you must be. His eyes roamed over your body, examining you from head to toe.

“Go on, sweetheart. Bend over the desk for me.”

You quickly complied, bending over the front his desk, legs slightly spread. You felt him behind you, placing his hands on your hips before landing a hard smack on your ass. His hands pushed up skirt, pooling it around your waist and exposing you to him. He ran a finger over your underwear, pressing lightly on your clit, before landing another blow.

“Such a little slut, aren’t you? Already soaked for me. Have you enjoyed acting like a brat?” Another smack. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” you said softly.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Much better.” He pushed your underwear aside, running a finger through your folds. You felt your hips push back, trying to get more. More of anything, more of him. He pulled his hand away, running it over your thighs. “So desperate, aren’t you? You know exactly what you’ve been doing to me, teasing me, acting like a brat. Why should I touch you?”

“Please, sir, I’m sorry. I just wanted – “

“Wanted what? Wanted me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. You felt him slide one finger in, quickly followed by a second. You bit your lip, suddenly aware of where you were and who was outside this office.

“So, you thought you’d make me jealous, hm?” he asked, fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. You nodded, rolling your hips against his fingers. As soon as he felt your movement, he pulled his fingers away. A whimper left your lips.

“Why should I make you feel good, when you’ve done nothing but tease me for months?”

“Please, sir. I need it.”

“Louder.”

“But- “

“I said louder.”

“Please, sir, please, fuck.”

He slid into you all at once, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. You let out a loud moan, before clamping a hand over your mouth, hoping to God no one heard you.

His hand found its way to your hair, pulling you toward him, back arching. You felt his lips right next to your ear as he finally moved his hips, pulling almost completely out before pounding back in. “No, no, baby. You want to tease me, make me jealous, let these cops flirt with you? You’re gonna let this whole fucking office know who you belong to.”

He set a rapid pace, hips snapping against yours. You felt your eyes roll back in your head, legs unsteady.

Mark groaned in your ear. “God, do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this pussy? How many times I’ve thought about bending you over and ruining you? Do you have any fucking idea what you’ve done to me? You’re all I fucking think about anymore.”

You let out a loud moan, no longer caring who heard you two. “God, fuck.”

“Cmon baby, tell me who you belong to.”

“You, sir.”

“Louder.” His long, hard strokes made your legs weak.

“I belong to you, sir! I’m all yours!”

“Good girl.” His other hand reached around your front, fingers quickly finding your clit and drawing quick circles around it. “Now, let everyone out there know that I’m the only one that gets to make you cum.”

Your legs shook and you knew if it weren’t for his arms holding you up, you wouldn’t be able to stand. Your mind was blank, forgetting everything but his words and the feeling of his cock filling you.

Your vision went white as your orgasm washed over you, the room filled with sounds of you moaning his name and his skin slapping against yours. You felt his pace falter slightly, his breath hot on your ear as he emptied himself inside you.

You stayed like that for a moment, both trying to catch your breath, before he finally pulled out of you and slid your skirt down.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing that,” he said, breathless, as he pulled his pants back up.

You let out a soft laugh. “Me too.” You start to grab a tissue from the box on his desk to clean yourself up before he grabbed your wrist. He spun you around to face him, face inches from yours.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I want everyone to know that you’re mine. And I want to see you try and hold yourself together with my cum dripping down your thighs.” He gave you a smirk before letting go of your wrist, making his way back to his chair, and continuing his work as if nothing had happened.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself as you tried to make yourself look somewhat presentable.

Maybe your plan worked a bit too well.

---

Let me know if you guys like this!! I've been thinking about doing a NSFW alphabet with our lovely detective, let me know if you guys would be interested 👀

#mark hoffman x reader #saw #saw franchise #smut #fanfic #fanfiction

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norizz-nation · 6 months

Note

heyy can you write one where max is y/n's best friend's brother who she used to be scared of when they were young. not knowing they are both in town at the same time, they meet again at his place when his sister is out. they feel a spark when they start talking and shit goes down after one to many glasses of wine. make it as smutty as you want;)

That’s an amazing idea girl 😩

Made for me 💛

Summary: even tho you always hated your best friend’s brother but things had to change

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, choking

You knew max since high school and since then you hated him so much but there wasn’t any specific reason to that. You just didn’t like him. But years later now where you’ve both grew apart, you met him coincidentally in town. “Hey y/n! Long time no see huh?” Max said with a big smile on his face as he went in for a hug and you hugged him back so then you’re not rude to him. “Yeah long time. Probably 7 years right?” You asked as he nodded. “How come you’re here y/n?” He asked pulling away from you. “Just wanted to take a break from work i guess” you said smiling awkwardly.

“Ohh come with me then. I can show you around since your best friend isn’t in town right now” he said. “Yeah i heard that from her” you said in a bit annoying tone, not wanting to hangout with him. You and max then went to every places there not missing a single thing, showing you every tiny bits of his town. Then when it was almost 10 he offered you to go home with him to have a drink. “No max, its really late right now, i cant” you dont know why but you actually wanted to go with him. Spending the whole day with him made you realize that he actually isn’t that bad. “Come on please” max pleaded and you smiled saying “alright sir lets go”

After a couple of drinks you looked at him and said nothing. “What is it y/n?” He asked confusingly. “Did you ever know that i hated you a lot back in high school?” He then scoffed putting his glass down. “Of course i did but did you know that i always think about you. Think about how you would feel under me. How you would look at me when i fuck you” he said those words so calmly as if he said something really random but his eyes meant every single word he said. You were so stunned you couldn’t speak. “M-max what?” You said.

He then caressed your face cupping it saying “but you know you’re made for me”. His hands went down your face then to your tits and then to your thighs drawing small circles. You couldn’t help but squirm for him. “Look at you. Already squirming for me” he said in a cocky way. He then flipped you over so you were on your hands and knees on the sofa as he pushed your panties aside and circled your wet pussy. “Seriously? This wet for nothing? I didnt even do anything” he then made you lick his finger and pushed his dick inside making you moan. He then kept on fucking you while he choked you with his fingers in your mouth. “Such a good pussy you have here” he said as he made his pace faster.

He could feel your pussy clenching around his dick. “Youre gonna cum baby?” Max asked. You just nodded and groaned. “Im gonna cum too baby” he said as he filled your pussy so good. Making you feel so warm inside. “Only made for me” he said as your drools were dripping down his arm.

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

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celtic-crossbow · 4 months

Text

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Chapter 12

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; panic attack; allusions to SA; brief mentions of child abuse

A/N: Why was this the fastest chapter of this to write but the longest? I’m afraid that it’s turned out bad. 😩

Two days had passed since the attack. People had come and gone in brief visits to check up on you, usually finding Daryl at your bedside. He would be carving bolts or making adjustments on his crossbow, not really engaging with you. Just a presence in the room that you allowed; found that you wanted. The safety you felt around him couldn’t be ignored, any previous trepidations be damned.

Aside from asking the archer to stay, you still hadn’t spoken. You couldn’t seem to find your voice even when you sought to use it. Fortunately, Daryl wasn’t much of a talker, so it seemed to raise no qualms.

Hershel had given you the okay to leave the medical cell the day before but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. It was the first place you’d been brought after the attack. It felt safe. Safer still since the archer had come to you. The table was beyond uncomfortable on your healing body but discomfort wasn’t a foreign concept in your life.

You also didn’t want to face Carol. You had put so much stock in the promise she’d made upon your arrival to the prison only for it to be proven false. The logical part of your mind begged you to understand that the woman had done everything in her power to see that her words remained true. In the end, it had all shattered.

You weren’t safe anywhere.

The life you’d been damned to live wouldn’t be so easily altered.

That wasn’t Carol’s fault. You knew that. Something told you that if Daryl engaged in conversation, he’d drive that point home as well. You’d probably even find it in you to consider it if it came from him.

Why, though?

Why was there so much trust in a man that had bought you, rejected you, only to bring light to the desire he held for you? After the attack, it would make more sense to create as much distance as possible from him. He was a threat.

But you felt completely safe aside from your warring thoughts.

He didn’t do much aside from busy himself with something while he kept watch only a few feet from where you lay. He didn’t reassure you that it would never happen again. He didn’t tell you what was going on outside your little sanctuary. He didn’t even control the flow of people that came to see that you were recovering. He simply remained a silent sentinel. And you knew if danger came, he’d stand between you and the threat without a second thought.

“Hey, Y/N. How are you feeling?” Maggie asked from the door.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Daryl’s hands still as if awaiting you to express comfort or hesitation. When you gave a shrug but gave no indication of fear, he continued with what he was doing.

“I’m glad to see you’re moving around.” The young woman smiled gently. “Maybe you should consider going back to a room. You’d likely be more comfortable.”

You tensed and the archer’s hands paused once again. You willed your body to relax. Maggie meant no harm. You saw no reason for Daryl to intervene. You shrugged again but with a single shoulder and began to pull at a thread on the edge of the thin sheet that covered you.

“You don’t have to, of course.” Maggie continued. She’d likely been sent to you, to act as a balm to your frazzled nerves. “There are other rooms too.”

She was really trying. Still, the thought of being alone was horrifying. You were alone when it happened. It could happen again. You didn’t know everyone. They could even come to the medical cell if Daryl left.

The world around you had shifted, everything was tilted. You could hear yourself taking in harsh breaths that never seemed to reach your lungs. Your pulse was thundering against your temples, the blood in your veins was rushing in your ears. Daryl was moving, in between flickers of darkness. Missing moments that had him in the doorway with Maggie, then already leaning in front of you with no one else in the room. Your jaw felt warm and you chased the sensation, something to anchor to.

“Tha’s it. Like me.”

When the room settled into quiet, the sharp edges softening, you felt a steady thrum against your palm. You blinked slowly, grasping at reality, searching for…

Daryl was there, his expression serious but not hard. Your hand was pressed against his chest and held by his own. You could feel his heart beating, noticed your unsteady breaths absently matching each calm inhale and exhale he exercised. The warmth on your jaw: his palm. He was cradling your face, giving you a focal point.

“Atta girl. Yer alrigh’.”

Your gaze lifted from the hand on his chest to his eyes, finding that kindness you saw the day you met him. Had he been hiding it away since you came here?

He was the most confusing presence. Safe but guarded. Walls up high, impenetrable. His heart was on his sleeve, surrounded by barbed wire. You yearned to battle through. You wanted to know him. Understand his hesitant companionship.

Your lips parted before you gave them permission.

“Please…”

His grip loosened but didn’t pull away. Brow drawn, he waited but any fear you had was sealed, pounding on a shielded part of your subconscious.

“Let me stay with you.”

His expression softened. He calculated, contemplated while you held your breath.

Then he nodded once.

“Okay.”

The move to Daryl’s space had been more difficult than you thought. It felt like all eyes watched your every step; judging, questioning. The archer was in front of you, the constant flexing of his fingers at his sides was telling.

He felt it too.

The stairs to his perch were painful, irritating the still too fresh injuries inside you. Once you reached the top and stepped into the space, your anxiety settled. You felt shielded from prying eyes. No one would dare venture here to cause you harm. Even if Daryl was away, this was his territory and he would protect it.

“Y’can take the mattress. I got a sleepin’ bag I can crash on.”

You gave a meek nod. This space was his. He had the right to tell you what to do here. You would abide. The need to please him teetered on the edge of your acceptance into this group. This family. It threatened to spill over and uncover the obligation. That only served to make him uncomfortable.

“Thank you.” You were quiet, as you tended to be already. The mattress was hard and lumpy but still felt like a guarded tower. You could rest here.

The archer grunted, murmuring something under his breath. His crossbow sat against the wall, your gaze wandering over to it just before he picked it up. He didn’t say anything as he walked to the stairs, instead glancing over his shoulder to give you a tight nod. Then his form disappeared in a fading cadence of metallic steps.

Even with only that, you knew you were okay. You gingerly moved to grab the edge of his blanket and cover yourself, feeling surrounded by him. It was easy to surrender to the call of sleep.

Wha’ the fuck m’I doin’? The question repeated in his head as if his brain was not convinced that he’d heard it each time before. He scrubbed a hand over his face. He was tired. His days and nights had been spent at your bedside. Rick had, for some reason, allowed him to blow off his watch shifts, along with fence clearing duty. He hadn’t gone hunting since you’d asked him to stay.

He felt like he was under a spell. It was the only explanation for him granting you access to his own space. You just looked at him with such a raw openness, he felt denying you would be immoral. There was also an overwhelming sense of responsibility accompanied by a heaping dose of guilt. He brought you here. It should be his job to keep you safe. Not Carol’s. Not Rick’s or Maggie’s.

He would stick to his original plan. When you were better, he’d teach you to protect yourself; help you gain confidence. You’d move out of his area and things would go back to how they were. Maybe you would talk to Carol soon and smooth that over. She would at least be appreciated back-up during this shitstorm he catapulted himself into.

In the meantime, he would need to orientate himself to your presence. Solidify his walls without becoming cold. Everything would be pointless if all he did was scare you. He just wasn’t a soft person. He never had been. Growing up the way he did didn’t allow for that. He’d changed since Merle had been gone. It wasn’t all at once. He had to learn to be around people, how to open himself up enough to care. He had thought he was doing okay.

Then came you.

A part of himself that he didn’t even know existed had surged to life. A desire to know someone in every way. He had felt a spark that first day and fought it the only way he knew how. He was harsh, cold. Anytime an unfamiliar sentiment reared its head, he’d examine it with a guarded curiosity before brutally beating it down into the darkest crevices of his subconscious. Somehow, it all managed to resurface. He’d find himself worse off than he was before.

Thinking of you panting below him, your legs anchored over his hips. Your sweet whispers. Your fingers scratching lightly against his scalp. Your smile. Your eyes sparkling.

He barely came back to himself in time to miss walking straight into a tree. Christ. This was going to get him killed. He was distracted, more so than he’d ever been in his pathetic life. But would continuing to fight it off even help? Would facing it head on only serve to make it worse?

“Wha’ the fuck m’I doin’?” He whispered, running a hand over his hair.

There was only one thing he could think of that might give him any sense of clarity. The thought of it made his stomach roll uncomfortably.

With a groan, he crouched to get a closer look at some tracks. Regardless of his dilemma, people had to eat and he’d been idle long enough. He’d bring back something substantial and then he’d take care of business.

He’d talk to Carol.

After prepping the deer, Daryl began his search. Carol was busy making dinner with Maggie and one of the other girls when he found her. She promised to come get him later so they could talk after he had nearly had a stroke when she suggested he go ahead with what was on his mind so closely to the other two. There was no way they could have heard anything given their proximity but even the idea of it had him beet red and trembling.

So she sent him off for now.

He had taken a few minutes to clean up, washing any blood from his hands and arms. He couldn’t change clothes since everything was kept up where you currently stayed. He’d have to figure some things out to make this work. Leave some necessities in an empty cell or something. He’d figure it out later when he wasn’t so tired.

And nervous.

Carol had told him once that you really liked the berries he would sometimes find. When he happened upon them today, he made sure to wrap a decent amount to bring back for you.

Why? He had no idea. Yeah, ya do. Idiot. Okay. Yeah, he did. He thought maybe you’d smile. Maybe you’d talk. Beyond asking him to stay with you and pleading to go with him, you still weren’t speaking. He assumed that was pretty normal after something traumatic. He would go silent after a sound beating from his dad but that was mostly to avoid being blamed when the school would call a meeting.

He was at the top step before he even realized it. Swear, shit’s gon’ get me killed. You were easy to spot: a lump under the blanket with a mop of hair peeking out. His first thought was that maybe he should find you a better blanket; that one wasn’t good enough. His second thought was that he should just throw himself down the stairs for thinking the first thought.

When you didn’t stir, he wondered if maybe he should start knocking on the railing or calling up to you? It was his space but he had agreed to share so he’d just have to suck it up now and figure this shit out. Maybe include you.

He ended up going with clearing his throat. The lump moved but didn’t emerge. Daryl sighed and stepped closer.

“Y/N?”

Nothing. Maybe he should just leave the berries by the mattress, grab his clothes, and go take a shower. Carol might be ready to talk to him by that point. That was logical.

Then you moved again. An arm emerged from the blanketed bundle, stretched slightly, and then rested outstretched over the edge of the mattress. He really should have left you alone, but curiosity killed the cat. What he was curious about? Couldn’t tell you.

Once he was just beside where your hand hung, he lowered to sit cross-legged, the handkerchief of berries on his lap. His head tilted, finding that your face was actually hidden under your mess of hair and not the blanket.

With courage he couldn’t explain the origin of, he reached out to start moving aside the disheveled strands. It was easier than it looked. He thought for a moment he might need a weed-whacker. He was quick to pull away once he could see you.

He hadn’t seen you sleeping in the cell you had shared with Carol but he had that night by the fire. Your brow always drawn, hands fisted, your body always moving. You’d never seemed more at ease than now. Your face was slack with the slightest pout to your parted lips. No lines of pain or worry. No traces of fear. There was a stirring in his chest while he watched you. Yet another unfamiliar sensation that brought a scowl to his face.

A noise from downstairs snapped him out of his trance, his head turning toward the sound. Laughter followed it. Not a threat. The archer released a breath and turned back to you, finding the noise hadn’t gained his attention alone.

You were blinking sleep-hazy eyes at him, your hands coming up to rub at them as you sat up. Daryl’s heart was hammering behind his ribs, he assumed because he had just been staring at you like a creeper while you slept. He inwardly groaned. The previous contemplation of throwing himself down the stairs made another appealing appearance.

His cheeks burned hot when he realized he had been staring at you yet again while he waged his mental war. He dropped his gaze immediately, able to see you draw your knees to your chest from the corner of his eye. When he dared to risk a glance, you had done the same as him: dropped your gaze with that submissive, fear-induced curling inward of your body.

You were still trying to make yourself small.

Annoyance was the initial response, a scoff braced to release before he caught himself. If he belittled you for the actions you had been hardwired to perform, how would you ever know how to act without fear around him or anyone else?

Racking his brain for an idea, he looked around anxiously before his eyes settled on the handkerchief. Right. He remembered to keep his movements slow but not robotic. With the bundle in the palm of his hand, he unfolded the top and then placed it all on the mattress next to your foot.

You were drawn to their presence immediately, staring at them for longer than he would have thought but he didn’t know the inner workings of your mind, so he waited you out. After enough time had passed that the archer considered he might need to remind you that they were indeed berries, your brow knitted and your eyes bravely found his.

Daryl chewed on the inside of his cheek, giving a nod toward the fruit. Another uncomfortable few moments passed before you began to reach for them, watching him from the corner of your eye.

You were waiting to see if he’d react. And he made the mistake of reaching for one at the same time.

Your hand pulled back so quickly that you almost hit yourself.

“Wait, no, I— fuck!”

You flinched, bowing your head to seemingly wait for the inevitable. He knew because his first instinct was to tuck tail and run. He’d fucked this all up. He needed to go. But you didn’t move. Shit. You’d never had that option. If you had tried to run, god knows what those bastards would have done to you.

Daryl dragged in a calming breath and forced himself to still. This was just as hard for you as it was for him but he’d had time and friends to help him sort through a great deal of his trauma. You were still on your first steps. And those assholes had knocked you back down on your ass.

He reached for a berry, slowly, while your eyes tracked his hand from just above your knees. He knew there was a huge chance this would backfire but goddamn it, he was trying the only way he knew how.

With a berry between his fingers, he made certain you could see his other hand reaching for you. He hated to be touched. There were few people he’d allow that close. He could count them on one hand. You had Carol but then— yeah, this could go very wrong.

He let his fingertips rest against your arm first, unmoving. You were shaking beneath his touch, and he suddenly wanted to vomit but swallowed it down. When you didn’t scream or cry or pull away, he slid them down toward your hand, pausing again; gauging you for signs that he needed to stop. Your eyes were wide, your body was damn near vibrating but your breathing had remained stable and you weren’t crying. He took those as good signs. Hershel said you trusted him. Maybe he hadn’t fucked that up yet. You were here at your own request after all.

Next, he carefully turned his hand and worked his fingers beneath yours, beginning to pull your arm toward him. He stopped with each hitch in your breathing, each whimper. He only needed you close enough to softly guide your hand to turn palm up, leaving his below it.

Your hands were so small compared to his.

With a deep breath of his own, he placed the berry from his other hand onto your palm and withdrew both of his, carefully placing them over his knees so you could see them. Then he did something he wasn’t sure would help but it made sense to him.

He lowered his head, and let his gaze fall to the floor.

You didn’t move for a moment but your mouth had fallen open. He could see you peripherally but made no move to look up. Essentially, showing you the same submission you continuously showed him.

Your hand moved toward your mouth but hesitated. He stayed stock still, even with his subconscious screaming at him that this was completely out of his comfort zone.

Finally, finally, you delicately placed the fruit between your lips, sighing happily when you began to chew. He moved slower than his patience was comfortable with, raising his head to arch an eyebrow at you.

“Them’s the ones ya like, right?”

You were back to staring, utterly still. He’d fucked up, hadn’t he? But before he could berate himself too much, you nodded slowly and reached for another berry. Instead of eating it, you leaned for your shorter arms to reach and took his hand, flipping it to place the fruit on his palm.

Daryl snorted but popped the berry right into his mouth. And then the entire world came to a screeching halt.

You smiled at him.

It wasn’t the small upturn of your lips with the slight, shy bow of your head. It wasn’t the one that accompanied a laugh when you were with Carol. It was all of your teeth, your eyes squinted with the smallest of wrinkles in the corners. Your nose slightly scrunched. Beaming. Beautiful.

And he needed a moment to find his breath.

When the smile fell away and was replaced with concern, he realized he had been staring at you with a blank expression. His brain screamed Abort! Abort! but he refused. He was going to help you if it killed him.

And it just might.

He shook his head and pulled a face, not a grimace or a scowl, but one you wouldn’t discern as angry or annoyed. He reached for more berries and held his hand out for you to take some from him. When you did, he felt yet another strange feeling. A fluttering in his stomach that felt like the beginnings of anxiety but no, it was different. Not unpleasant. Just… weird.

The two of you went about eating your snack quietly. Daryl even almost earned a giggle when he threw one in the air to catch in his mouth but it hit him in the eye before rolling off to the land of far, far away. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed.

“Y’ever gon’ talk again?” He asked sometime later, posture relaxed as he leaned back against the railing. You shrugged a shoulder and then winced when you started to reposition yourself. His face fell. “Want me ta grab ya somethin’ fer tha’?”

You shook your head but your lightheartedness had diminished. Daryl found himself angry at the men all over again.

“M’sorry I didn’ get there faster.” He stared at the hem of his shirt, pulling at a string while he allowed the guilt to begin washing over him anew. He had to keep it in check or he’d shut you out. He knew that but it wasn’t something he could shake off. You had been hurt— traumatized —and it was on him.

Before he could spiral, a small hand came to rest over his. He was quick to look up but you didn’t flinch this time. You just watched him with your head tilted and the softest eyes he’d ever seen. He didn’t react at first, which had been the opening you had apparently wanted. Shuffling on your knees, you pulled his hand simultaneously. He sat up straighter just for your hand to leave his and your arms to wrap around his neck.

He remained frozen to the spot, hands splayed in the air just above his lap. He hadn’t expected this, thus hadn’t prepared for it. Every out he could think of on the spot was quickly squashed by the fear of making you uncomfortable. But he was uncomfortable.

When your arms tightened, he took a deep breath and brought up one trembling hand, winding his arm around you to place it on your back. That allowed you to move closer, just shy of being on his lap. When his other hand matched the first, he felt the tension begin to bleed out. It really wasn’t… that bad. Not from you. The memories that would normally flood the forefront of his mind remained secure, kept at bay by the feel of you. You offering him comfort. That was not how this was supposed to go.

He kept telling himself that even as he lowered his face against your neck and held on tight.

From the lower level, beyond the cells and close to the prison entrance, Carol could see the two of you. She tried so hard to hide her knowing smile while all but tiptoeing toward the block entrance.

Yeah, she’d go get him for that talk later. There would definitely be a lot to discuss.

Gorgeous fanart by @bananafire11 💙💙💙

Taglist:

@royaltysuite @thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @deansapplepie @feral4daryl @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @1ivinqdeadqir1main @loganlostitall @callmeyn @lilyevanstan1325 @the-lonely-abyss @gutsby @eljaynosine_triphosphate @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @hutchersonsgurl @the-milk-is-rotten @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @richardsamboramylove55 @annhells @abi67sblog @nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @daryldixmedown @willowaftxn83-87 @atyourmomshouse01 @bultamer @mia051 @memphiscity69 @flowerspetalsthorns @riya12044 @ariacraigggg @morgan556 @carley12041 @timeladyrikaofgallifrey @twdislifee @bae-live-0 @aleemendoza2425-blog @ramdomhoe @ren9sstuff @pandarooooo-blog

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whoahoney · 10 months

Note

Hello sweet Honey!! Congratulations on hitting 2000 followers! You deserve it and so much more! 💛💛💛

Here’s my request for the celebration:

Eddie Munson 🖤

Smutty prompt #9

Modern au

#9. “You take me so well.”

Modern!Eddie Munson x shy!reader

A/N: This took longer than it should’ve to write but I hope at the least my girl likes it 😩🫶🏻 thank you for sending this in and being so freakin supportive of everything I do!! I like to call this one… Birthday Girl

CW: Mature!!! (Tumbly won’t let me mark it) fem/afab!reader, alcohol consumption, slight jealousy/angst, smut minors DNI, protected p in v, oral f & m receiving, fingering, nipple play, pet names, readers drunk but everything is consented and Eddie checks in multiple times

Join the Celebration

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When your friend Robin told you her friend Eddie was currently single, you couldn’t have been more surprised. As long as you’d known him, he always had someone under his arm—his flavor of the month, as Steve liked to say.

“All you have to do is talk to him, I’m sure he’ll ask you out in a heartbeat!” She urges and you sigh from your place at the counter.

“I dunno, I just—I don’t think I’m his type.” You shrug.

Robin groans, “Oh, c’mon, you can’t tell me he doesn’t give you fuck me eyes every time you speak!”

“I dunno what fuck me eyes are! He has eyes! They’re… really pretty.” You almost whine and Robin groans again.

“Jesus Christ, I won’t sit by and allow you to dawn over someone you won’t even let yourself have a chance with!” She gets a sudden look of an idea behind her eyes before she speaks again, “So maybe you just need a little tryst to jumpstart your confidence!”

“I dunno, Rob, I’m not exactly good at talking to people I don’t know…”

“C’mon, you’ll have some drinks, meet a guy that wants to treat the birthday girl—one night stands can be so fun!” She said.

“I dunno, I’m gonna be drunk, what if I choose someone I regret??” You asked at her kitchen counter.

Robin rolled her eyes, “That’s why I’m the witness, I’m going to witness you—“

“Absolutely not, you’re not watching—“

“No! Gross! Hetero sex isn’t my thing, you know that!” She opens up her notebook and plops it on the countertop before clicking a pen a few times. “I’m going to sign off on who you take home!” She said as if it were that simple.

“A permission slip?” You ask through a scoff.

“If you hate it, don’t sign!” She says as she finishes writing up the agreement and signing her name on the witness line.

You bite your lip for a moment before you take the pen and sign away.

“And if you decide to use it on Eddie…”

“‘M not using it on Eddie!” You insist and shove the paper wad into your pocket, “Besides, I’m willing to bet he shows up with ‘Boobs McGee’ on his arm.

You’d met Eddie when Robin invited you along last year at the start of classes, instantly hitting it off much to his date’s displeasure. Eddie had complimented your ear piercings and in return you complimented his, then his date tugged him by the hand to the dance floor with a warning look thrown over her shoulder.

“Ooh! Rrrowrrr” Robin giggled behind her straw as the girl began running her hands down her body and grinding against Eddie’s front to a song with no substance whatsoever.

You chuckle and turn to Robin, “Is that his… girlfriend, or something?”

She scoffs and shakes her head, “Or something. Eddie doesn’t really do girlfriends.” She shrugs and you match it with your own. “He brings a new girl along all the time, I bet she’ll be gone in the next couple weeks.” She chuckled and you did too.

Of course he didn’t keep a girlfriend, he was too pretty! Why would he?? Anyway, it didn’t matter at the time because you were still trying long distance with your boyfriend, Dylan, back home.

It never failed, week after week, he’d come to the bar with a girl in tow. The times he’d brought the same girl more than once were small—the most you’d seen of one of them was twice.

Though there were plenty of nights he found the time to talk to you, whether it was when you were out and about with friends or messaging outside of the group chat—whispering as Eddie liked to put it.

Eddie: Waitwaitwait, it’s your birthday on Friday?!

You giggle and curl up under your blanket at the notification. You were currently watching the group chat pop off as Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Argyle made suggestions for the bar crawl.

You: it is! Are you gonna be able to make it?

Before you can respond to Robin’s gif with one of your own, Eddie’s already replied.

Eddie: Uh, duh! Wouldn’t miss it for anything! Your drinks are on me. 🤘🏻

You bite your lip and the butterflies surge like they always do when it comes to him. Your cheeks are flushed and he isn’t even in the room.

But he is buying your drinks on your birthday.

He’d bought you a couple drinks before but only when he’d bought rounds for the whole group—and his dates.

You: Aw, thanks! I really appreciate it! I hope your pockets are prepared 😮‍💨🫶🏻

He responded with a laugh react, his bubbles bouncing and disappearing a few times before there was nothing at all. You set your phone on your chest and sigh at the ceiling. You’d spent two birthdays with your boyfriend and he never did anything thoughtful for you. You’d never really asked for much, but buying you a drink just once would’ve been nice. One of the many reasons you broke it off with him at the end of last year.

You’d kept it quiet, only mentioning it to Robin when she asked about Dylan a month after.

Since then it’s been aimless attempts at getting you laid, always ending with her trying to download dating apps on your phone and make a profile despite your protests. You weren’t really interested in anyone, though you couldn’t deny how lonely it could get.

The icon on your Home Screen tempted you every once in a while when you had too much wine, but for the most part you stayed off it.

The thought tempted you tonight though, only at the idea of Eddie bringing some other nameless broad along to your birthday celebration.

You close your phone and look at the ceiling, silently counting the days til your birthday, when you could drink yourself into oblivion on Eddie’s dime.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you arrived at the bar, Robin and Steve were already present, giving you approving looks when noticing your birthday outfit, a dress and heels complete with a sweet little cardigan.

“Look at youuu!” Robin chirped and spun you around before Steve handed you a shot.

“Happy Birthday!” Nancy shouts before wrapping her arms around you in a big hug, and Argyle blows a noise maker right next to your ear. You giggle and your heart fills with the joy of being known as someone, probably Steve, places a birthday crown on your head.

“Thank you!” You say as she pulls away, and someone hands you another shot.

“Are you ready to dance??” Robin asks over the thumping music, to which you nod eagerly and follow her out. “Take this off, what is this a library??” She unbuttons your sweater and helps you out of it before tossing it over Steve’s head and pulling you further into the crowd.

Its not long after your third shot and second dance of the evening that Eddie shows up to the bar—alone for once. Steve notes it as they shake hands and hug, “Where’s your date?”

Eddie only shrugs in return, “What date?”

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you got stood up.”

Eddie shakes his head, “Nah, just thought I’d hang with my friends tonight. Is Y/n here yet?”

Steve nods and sips his drink while Eddie scans the floor for any sight of her—and her boyfriend.

“Why doesn’t he ever come to stuff?” Eddie asks Steve, who sends him a questioning look before answering, “Who??”

“Her boyfriend, dingus.” Eddie rolled his eyes and went back to his search. Steve chuckles and nudges Eddie’s shoulder, “What boyfriend??”

“Derek? Dayton? Whatever his name is.”

“Oh! Dylan—“

Before he can fill Eddie in any further, you spot him from across the dance floor, and your drunken self couldn’t be more excited, “Eddie!!!” You stumble over to him, too busy keeping your eyes on the floor to notice his blooming smile.

“Hey, birthday girl!” He greets before pulling you into a hug. You breathe in his scent and exhale, letting a soft moan slip from your careless lips before you step back and let him go.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” You smiled up at him, and he smiles at your crooked birthday crown before fixing it.

“Wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He chuckles and trails his hands down your arms as you unravel yourself from the embrace. “Should I ask if I can buy you a drink? Looks like someone else already beat me to it.” He appraises your face again, analyzing every detail.

You chuckle and pull him to the bar, “I’d love another! Besides, you need to catch up!” You say as you plop onto a stool and he follows soon after.

“Two waters please.” He tells the barkeep and you push his knee playfully, “Buzzkill.” You mutter and he laughs yet again. You put your little purse on the counter as Steve and Jonathon approach and order more drinks. You check your phone and scroll check your apps, reading all the happy birthdays from old friends and estranged family on social media.

“Isn’t that right, birthday girl?” Jonathon asked with a mischievous smile. You set your phone down on the bar and look up without a clue in the world, “Hmm?”

The boys chuckle and Eddie sips a beer he didn’t have five minutes ago, “Your permission slip!”

‘Sober you’ would’ve balked, but ‘drunk you’ dug around in your purse to procure the wrinkled piece of notebook paper shoved inside. You take your time smoothing its creases by using the edge of the counter and then held it out.

“Good for one drunk fuck on my birthday!”

Signed and dated by you and witnessed by Robin Buckley herself, a few days ago when she had the bright idea to write it all up. In Robin’s opinion it had been ‘high time for you to find some dick to ride’. as she’d written it across the bottom of the page.

They guffaw while you tuck it away and a blush overtakes your cheeks as you see Eddie’s jaw feather before he took another drink of his beer. He cranes his neck to glance at the patrons approaching you and wants to spit out the bitter beer as Steve and Jonathon grab their drinks and walk away.

Since when were you looking?? When did this happen??

“You okay?” You ask before sipping your water.

“Yeah! I just—uh, didn’t know—“

“Hey, pretty girl! Is it your birthday?” A gorgeous man purred next to your ear. You blush madly and nod, turning to him as he wishes you a happy birthday and offers to buy you a drink. You’re polite in the interaction, and slow to turn him away with the way he was looking at you—it felt good.

Not to mention it being in front of Eddie may have fueled your main character complex a bit.

“—Are you sure? I’d be happy to put yours on my tab.” He points over his shoulder at the bartender.

“Oh, that’s—“

“I got ‘em, thanks, man.” Eddie rushed and put his hand on your shoulder almost territorially before pulling you closer. “Have a nice night.” He says in a way that makes you believe he wishes the opposite for the pretty boy trying to chat you up.

The guy backs away with raised hands before turning to his friends without another word. You look to Eddie with an arched brow and he has the audacity to ask, “What?”

“What was that?” You ask with a smirk. “You totally just cock blocked me!”

He shrugs, “What do you mean? Didn’t you get like, total creeper vibes from him?” He looks over your shoulder and puts a hand on the back of your chair, “Y’know you should’ve told me you weren’t with your boyfriend anymore.”

You nod, “Oh! Yeah, long distance wasn’t working out.” You shrug carelessly, one that said ‘I’m totally over him and ready to be under you’

Eddie nods, his shoulders feeling lighter, “Oh! Well, uh, I’m-I’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart.”

“—That’s okay! I broke it off, actually.” You shrug again and he nods.

“Right, well—“

Ping!

You both glance at your phone and see a new notification from the dating app appear. Eddie looks at you with a lupine grin and you blush and retreat inside of yourself, “What??” You giggle and drink again.

Eddie smirks and leans closer, “So you’re telling me, you’ve been single this whole time, and you haven’t even hit on me?? C’mon I’m like the resident single guy.” He takes a drink, himself.

You have at him in surprise and feel your cheeks heat deeper. “I dunno what you mean—you’re never single.” You shrug.

He rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Do me a favor and rip up that permission slip, none of these losers deserve to take you home.” He cocks a brow at you and you shy away as he leans forward on his knees.

Your lips open and close a couple times with the will to answer but no words to speak.

“Don’t be shy, birthday girl.” He almost purrs.

“I’m not.” You smile bashfully and bite the inside of your lip.

He tsks at you and says, “If you need a good drunk fuck, you can always come to me, okay? Don’t let some rando do it, let me.” He urges quietly as he pushes a lock of hair away from your face and behind your ear.

You turn to him with wide eyes, unsure if you were just drunk or if he was actually offering to fuck you.

“Are you-Are you serious? What about—where’s your date???” You scan the room quickly for any angry hot girls stomping your way, but you find none.

Eddie laughs and shakes his head, “I decided to fly solo tonight.”

You scoff, “That’s a first.” You take a drink and he looks at you in surprise before he answers with a shrug. “Would’ve been sooner if I knew you were single this whole time.”

“What do you mean??” You turn to him in shock.

“I mean, I just found out you aren’t with Dalton anymore—“

“—Dylan.”

“It’s doesn’t matter, he’s history now—” He shrugged and looked between your eyes. “So, uh, what do you think huh? am I misreading things? Do you… not.. find me..” he presses a hand to his chest and pulls a sad face, “.. attractive???” He whimpers and makes you laugh harder than normal.

“No! No—I mean of course I do!!!”

His sad facade melts away and his smile comes shining through again. He leans forward and gets close to your ear and he whispers, “Then let me take you into the bathroom, give you the most mind blowing birthday present of your life, take you back to mine, fuck you senseless, and then we’ll do breakfast in the morning and maybe you’ll see how serious I am about you.”

“What?” Your mouth gapes and you look him over as if he’ll say, ‘haha, just kidding!’

“Or we can act like this never happened, up to you.” He shrugs cooly, looking away incase you reject him.

You gather your bearings and take a breath. This is exactly what you’ve been wanting, this very opportunity. You find your hand sliding up his thigh and his gaze snaps to your hand and then up to your eyes in shock. You can only nod as that feral smile creeps up his cheeks.

He traces your lip with his thumb, “you’re cute, you know that? I remember the first time I saw you and the first thing I thought was, ‘damn I chose the wrong night to bring a date.’“ he chuckles as you do, blushing at his blatant affection.

“I don’t believe you.” You giggle and his hand makes its home at your cheek, rubbing light circles in your hair.

“I told Steve I was gonna ask you out but he’s the one that filled me in on your boyfriend situation…” he blew out a puff of air, “…and then never updated me again, the asshole!” He grumbled and leaned closer to talk directly in your ear, “I should kick his ass, don’t you think?” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you had the audacity to shudder. It was all too much for his ego. “Keepin us apart like that?”

He begins rubbing circles on your thigh with his other hand. “What do you wanna do, Princess? Feel like sneakin off with me?”

Your breath hitches and you nod eagerly. In answer, he gulps the remainder of his drink down and stands with a waiting hand. You take it in yours and you try to contain your smile as you follow him through the hoard of dancing bodies.

When you arrive at the bathrooms, there’s no line. Your heart pounds at the idea, that just beyond those doors you’d have one of the most memorable fucks of your life. Eddie looks back at you with an easy smile, a hand on the knob before he says, “Are you sure about this? You wanna let me see your permission slip one last time?” He pulls you close and speaks in your ear before pressing a kiss on your jaw just below it.

You nod again, “Yeah, I want this—wanted it for so long…” you let it slip and he makes a note to revisit that later. Instead of questioning you further he pulls you into the bathroom and presses you up against the door. He locks it without taking his eyes off you, looming over you predatorily and stripping off his jacket.

“You look so pretty tonight.” He smiles and pushes your hair over your shoulder, swiftly leaning in and pressing open mouthed kisses on your exposed neck. You lean your head to the side and revel in his affection, a breathy moan sliding from your lips.

He smiles and brings his mouth back up to your ear for a nibble before speaking, “I’m gonna keep this short and sweet, but if I do this, you’re gonna let me play boyfriend tonight and take you home—with me, okay? I was serious about that breakfast.”

You giggle and nod, “Yeah, that’s what I want, that’s exactly what I wished for.”

“Wait, they already did cake?” He questioned before you laugh and kiss him on the lips gently. It was a soft peck, evoking a spark in your chest, and then another, and then it sizzled and simmered into something decadent.

“You taste like pineapple.” He chuckled without pulling away from you. He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and you whine for him as he moans at the taste of you. “I bet you’re just as sweet down here, aren’t you?” He mumbled and shoved his knee between your thighs, his hand following soon after to rub you through your dress.

You give a sharp inhale at the sensation and the sight of him above you. His curls framed his face and shifted with every move he made on your body. You saw the perspiration gathered at his hairline and could smell the combination of his cologne with his shampoo and his musk that sent your throat tingling whenever you got too close.

“Gonna be good for me and lift this up?” He pushes it up your thighs and makes a move to kneel before you and you oblige him by gathering it in your hands.

He smiles, “Thank you, sweet girl.” He says from the ground before he levels his gaze at your panties and the smugness falls from his face at the sight. “These are nice.” He runs his thumb over the lace that clothed your cunt and your body flinches. He chuckles to himself and rubs you right at the top of that crease for a minute, watching you unwind and relax into his touch.

“That’s it, that’s what I wanna see…” he smiles and leans in faster than you can question it and suddenly his mouth is working over your panties, tasting you through the purple lace before he pulled them to the side and slipped two fingers into your sopping cunt.

“Oh my god, Eddie—“

“Just wait til it’s my dick in you, sweetheart, you won’t even remember my name—“ He says only a couple inches from your heat as he pulls your panties down properly and manually spreads your legs with firm hands, “But for now, just let me eat.” He says before licking a stripe up your center.

You cry out and grow pliant beneath his touch, your head falling back against the door as he pulls your legs over his shoulders.

He ate and ate and hummed and nibbled away at your core, as if he hadn’t seen pussy in years, which you well knew was not the case. Was he this eager with everyone?

Right as you felt the familiar high building in your belly, someone was pounding their first against the door. “Come ON!!!” The stranger’s voice rang out.

Eddie doesn’t hear it at first thanks to your thighs snug around his ears. He nodded his head against your core and licked your entrance like ice cream on a hot day.

“Eddie! Eddie…” you tap his head and open your legs wider until his attention is on you and he’s helping you down, concern in his eyes until the next set of banging knocks on the door had him flinching like the cops showed up.

He tugs your panties back up and fixes your skirt before wiping his face on his jacket and holding his hand out for you, “I’m sorry, sweetness.” He says dejectedly before unlocking the door and pulling you out without a glance in the angry patrons direction.

He doesn’t stop til you run into Steve, who was very concerned about your whereabouts, “Everyone’s ready to do cake! Where the hell have you been??” He looked between you two and before Eddie can answer you say, “The line for the bathroom was killer!”

Eddie looks over at you with amusement and laughs heartily while Steve cocks his head but doesn’t question it. “Well c’mon!” He waves you to follow him, and with Eddie’s hand sliding into yours, you do.

He sat next to you while everyone sang happy birthday, a hand on your thigh and starry eyes focused on you. The cake was white with chocolate drizzled over the top and five sparkler candles blazing on top, your name written across in red icing. With the conclusion of the song, you took a deep breath, and blew out the candles, wishing for Eddie Munson to make you his.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After you shared a slice of cake, Eddie was back in your ear purring like a jungle cat, “How you feelin, huh?”

“Like you should tell Robin and Steve you’re taking me home.” You giggle and press a kiss to his jaw just as he has done earlier.

He let out a seething sigh and clenched his jaw despite his smile, “I like how you think.” He nods and gets up from the booth, waiting for you to follow his lead. His eyes search for anyone in the party, finding Nancy first. “I’m gonna take her home okay?” Is all you heard before Nancy’s concerned look found your eyes around Eddie’s shoulder, but then also found your hand in his. A smile spread on her face and she nods at him before patting his shoulder and waving at you.

“Happy birthday! Stay safe!” She calls, and the both of you laugh as Eddie says, “No promises!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie sped the whole way home, keeping a hand on you the entire drive. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t eager to have you in his bed, to have you at all. He snuck glances and licked his lips at your cleavage on display in that dress and now that he knows what he knows about your little crush on him he can’t help but wonder if you chose it with him in mind.

Now, he’s got you back against a door, just like at the club. Your ears are ringing and your eyes are heavy but all you can think about is the way Eddie was looking at you. The way he was touching you.

“Got you all to myself, now, birthday girl.” He trails a finger down your neck and sternum, til it hit that beautiful crease he wanted to bury his nose in. You nod at him and smile before tilting your chin up to meet his lips.

He deepens the kiss, trapping you against him with his hands on your face, delicately clinging to you as if you’d leave. “I’m gonna take such good care of you.” He whispered as if you were now his to take care of.

You sigh and nod again, letting your eyes fall closed as his kisses trail down your neck. Before you know it he’s slipping off the straps of your dress and kissing at your cleavage. “Can I take this off?” He asks softly.

You don’t answer, only reach back and unzip it before peeling it off your body, with a little difficulty that had Eddie chuckling in adoration before helping you out of it.

“Look at you…” he whispered as he appraised your body. He was aching almost as badly as you were to get rid of that bra. And no matter how much he loved the way your panties clung to your curves, he wanted you bare and beneath him.

“I promise I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

You giggle, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

He grins, “Why is that?”

You shrug, “Do I need to go over the list of girls you’ve brought around since I’ve known you?”

He scoffs through a smile, “Yeah, well, I had to keep myself busy waiting around on you, didn’t I?”

You scoff this time, looping your arms over his shoulders, oddly comfortable being so exposed in front of him. “That’s a lie.”

“I never met anyone I was interested in dating until I met you. But you had a boyfriend!”

“Yeah, well, you always had a girlfriend.”

He tsks, “Looks like it’s now or never.”

You smile widely and he leans down to kiss you, sweeping his tongue over your lip to pull an open mouthed moan from you, and licking into your mouth like he had your pussy earlier.

“Come lay down with me,” He said between kisses, “Let’s get you all comfy.”

Sparks erupted in your stomach and you nod as he takes you in his arms and swiftly steers you towards his room in hurried steps.

He pushes open his door so harshly it hits the wall, opening in time for you to step through before he’s knocking it shut with his foot. He gently nudges you down onto the bed, urging your shoulders to lay all the way down as he worked his knee between your thighs again.

“There we go,” His hands trail over your tits and stomach, pausing at the cups and tugging lightly as if he were going to pull it down but he left it up to you.

You unhook it and toss it off the bed, laying back down in your tipsy haze, your body buzzing and warm—drunk on booze and Eddie’s hungry gaze.

“Your turn.” You say breathily as you get comfortable against his soft blankets. His mouth is gaping as he pours over you, his hands poised to reach out and squeeze before you cover your chest with your arms and giggle for him.

He unfolds to his full height, revealing the thick imprint in the front of this jeans, showing you just how badly he needs to free himself. “A demand from the birthday girl?” He chuckles lowly and strips off his shirt, the swift movement sending his sweet and heady scent washing over your face.

His taught torso and arms were swirled with different art pieces, some were patchworks and others so dark and solid you can’t imagine how long they took. You’d always wanted to know how many he had, and maybe tonight you’d find out.

He’s pleased with the way you’re gazing up at him, as if he were the art and not his tattoos. “You like ‘em?” He asks before putting his hands on the pillow on either side of your head, hiding any shred of self doubt away as you nod.

If he got to have you for just tonight, he could be happy.

He waited a year before he found out he could’ve had you sooner, so tonight he’d take his sweet time and pull the most earth shattering orgasm from your body in order to help his chances of doing it again and again.

And maybe you’ll delete that stupid app.

Your hips writhe in search of his, your hands slipping away, dissolving the last thread of modesty you were trying to keep. He returns his attention to your chest and suddenly he’s lost half his power.

“What?” You giggle and before he decides to answer he drops his lips to the middle of them to press a lingering kiss.

“I love your boobies…” he whispers reverently before you throw your head backwards and laugh heartily, your hands draping comfortably on his shoulder and head as he smiles and presses wet kisses around the bottom curve of your breasts.

“Don’t call them boobies, you’re a grown man!” You softly scold and try to ignore the warm buzzing he was shrouding your body in with each kiss.

“They’re the best boobies.” He mumbles against your skin before the kisses intensify and he starts finding places to sweep his tongue over and suck, pulling an open mouthed whine from your unsuspecting lips. “I knew you’d like that.” He chuckles again, and leans over to delicately lick your pebbled nipple and suck it into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck!” Your hold on him tightens, much to his satisfaction, and he begins rutting himself against your naked center. “Take—take these off—“ you manage as you feel his hand on your other tit and your brain starts melting when he massages it tenderly.

Without a word, he releases your nipple with a sonorous pop, and gets up from the bed to strip off his pants and boxers. The jingling of his chain and belt excites you, but not as much as the sight of his hard and leaking cock springing up against his stomach as he did so. You didn’t hear yourself gasp but you knew he did with the look he sent you as he stroked himself at the end of his bed.

“I dunno about you, but it feels more like my birthday, tonight.” He says as he steps around to the nightstand and procures a condom, keeping one hand on his manhood as if he were shy.

You smirk as he releases his hold on his member to open the package, to which you roll over on your stomach and crawl over to him. He looks at you with confused amusement and then he freezes when he feels your tongue on the head of his dick. “Oh, shit!”

“Happy birthday.” You giggle before taking his whole tip in your mouth and sucking it rhythmically to drive him mad. You gently caress his hips and in the next moment his hands are on your head, barely and pressure behind his touch.

“Oh, baby, you don’t—you don’t have to do this—“ he sighs out as the euphoria builds inside of him.

“I know—been wanting to.” You mumble before pushing his shaft up against his stomach and licking a wet stripe from sack to tip, but before you could pull it back into your mouth, he was flipping you onto your back again and rolling on the condom.

“You can do that any time you want,” he cuts himself off with a tender kiss to your lips, “Right now I just need to be in you.” He says in a whisper against your lips as he swipes the head of his cock through your wetness.

“Wanna feel you too, Eddie.” You sigh as he kisses down your chest again, “Please, please, please, don’t make me wait anymore.” You whine as he thrusts his shaft between your folds teasingly, “—It’s my birthday!!”

He laughs as he reaches your stomach and plants one last kiss above your belly button. “Since you asked so nicely.” He looks down between you, the ends of his hair tickling your chest as he notches himself right where you need him the most.

“God, you feel so fucking good.” He mumbles before pushing the rest of the way inside, his lips connecting with yours in a needy kiss.

“Oh my go—you do too.” You’re quick to assure him. “Fuck me, Eddie, c’mon,” you urge him with your hips, desperate for his friction. He looses a breath, a moan threatening to escape along with it as he starts his slow movements in and out with tender care.

He’d always admired your gentleness, your soft spoken nature. He was sure if he fucked you too hard you’d break, whether it be physically or emotionally he wasn’t sure. So when you wrapped your legs around his waist and opened your mouth to say, “Harder, fuck me harder!” —He was shocked.

He gently pushes your legs back towards you, finding purchase on the back of your thighs and squeezing appreciatively. “You sure?” He asks with a playful lip between his teeth and a gleam in his eye you wanted to see again and again.

“Mhm..” you nod pathetically and he grins wider than the Cheshire Cat. He leans down, pressing himself into you as far as he can, and kisses you on the lips, “We have plenty of time for me to fuck you slowly, yeah?” He asks before withdrawing himself and slamming inside again,

“Oh, fuck, you take me so well.” He says into your neck and sets a brutal pace that renders you thoughtless. “You’re so—you’re so good—shit!” He pants against your skin. The feeling of his weight on top of yours makes you feel so small in his grasp, folded up at his will like a plaything.

His plaything.

“You—ugh! You’re so good..” is all you can think to say, but it’s enough to make him nuzzle against your breast before sealing his mouth against your skin and kissing and nibbling and sucking his way over to your nipple, his thumb working your clit as he pounds you mercilessly, “Cum f’me—“ he mumbles against you.

And at his command, you come undone all over his cock and fingers. The humming, all consuming pleasure washed over you, and your body nearly goes limp.

Your unbridled cries of ecstasy were almost enough to send him over the edge of pleasure, though it sped up the steep climb right before he’d free-fall to the sound of your orgasm and hurtle into his. He speeds up his thrusts, eagerly chasing his high and enhancing yours as he groans roughly into your chest, “Christ!”

“Oh, yes, Eddie!” You whine as your body lurches back into that white hot urge to fuck and feel, just knowing you’re the reason he’s getting off making you clench around him as he spills into the condom and fucks you through his high.

You feel his cock throb inside of you as he collapses on top of you, getting a face full of titties and groaning in satisfaction.

You fall limp against the bed and pillows, his large frame making no move to release you. You can’t help the giggle slipping from your lips, and his head perks up at the sound, his round brown eyes on yours as his own smile builds. “What?” He asks with a kiss to your sternum.

You shake your head and run your fingers through his hair and fix his bangs, “I just… can’t believe this just happened.” You chuckle.

He chuckles too and gives you three more kisses leading up to your neck. He pauses at your lips with a smile, “Me either.” He pecks your lips sweetly before he pulls out of you and strips off the condom to toss in the nearby wastebasket.

He flops down next to you, pulling the sheets over you both as he catches his breath—his chest rising and falling with deep breaths beneath his necklace. He looks over at you and smiles again, his hair tousled from where your hands had played with it as he uncovers a leg and uses the linen to fan himself, “Jesus Christ it got hot—“ he chuckles again and looks back to you.

Your cheeks flush and you pull the sheet over your chest before you turn to face him, “Yeah, it was.” You chuckle nervously.

He turns on his side and looks at you intently, gathering words he’d been keeping at the back of his mind for as long as he’d known you. “I wanna do it again sometime.” He whispered and reached a hand over to cradle your cheek and caress your shoulder down to tangle his fingers into yours.

You smile softly and can’t help your heart sinking in your chest at the idea of being one of the girls he entertained for a few weeks before he never spoke of them again. You’d rather go back to normal than end up that way.

He senses your hesitance and squeezes your hand, “We don’t have to—I didn’t mean—this can totally be a on off, you know?”

You nod dejectedly and squeeze his hand, “If that’s what you want, yeah, for sure.” You say only half convincingly.

He scoots closer and wraps his arms around you, “That’s not what I want—not even close.” He whispers, lightly trailing his fingers down your exposed spine. Your eyes widen and you can’t help but arch into his touch.

“What do you want?” You whisper, finding your hands sliding up his smooth chest.

A smirk pulls at his lips before he kisses your nose, “I want… you.” He chuckles easily at your surprise, “I want to… delete the stupid app off your phone and I want your permission slip framed on my wall.” He giggles as your blush stains your cheeks.

“Is that all?” You chuckle as he kisses your neck, getting progressively more excessive just to make you laugh more, “Are you gonna delete the app off your phone??” You question.

Without an answer Eddie lurches up from the bed, stark naked, and searches through his pants and jacket til he procures his phone and flops back down next to you.

He hopes you watch as he unlocks it and deletes all the hookup apps from his screen. He puts it on the table and rolls over to you again, taking you in his arms as if you belong there now. “I’ll delete allll the unnecessary numbers at breakfast in the morning, yeah?” He kisses your cheek and you smile madly before wrapping your arms around him and pulling his lips to yours. You can’t help but smile into the kiss as he deepens it. “Wanna fuck you like this every birthday.” His voice is muffled by your skin as he continues his kisses down your neck, the fire between you igniting again.

“So when’s your birthday, huh?” You ask in a sultry tone as his cock hardens and he rocks against you with a frustrated groan. He sighs as your hand closes around it and tugs at it playfully a couple times before he’s devouring your neck again.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #honeys 2k celebration #honeys house party #eddie munson au #eddie munson smut imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurbs

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tomscumdump · 1 month

Note

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE A PART 2 ON THE TEACHER TOM SMUT 😩

A/n: of course!! I’m sorry this took me ages guys I haven’t had any motivation these past couple of days to write this :( it’s a little bit rushed and probably very choppy I’m sorry but I hope you guys enjoy mwah <3 he looks so good in that picture I would be making out with him right then and there tbh.

𝒩ℴ𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉ℴ 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓃ℴ𝓌？𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 2 💋

warnings: dom!tom sub!freader degrading unprotected sex p in v Tom using handcuffs

MDNI!!

smut and fluff at the end!!

Read at your own risk.

A while later you and Tom grew very close always meeting up outside of school, he even started helping you out with some school work at his place. He started buying you cute gifts obviously your interactions stayed low during school, but if you ever showed up late he would absolutely teach you some manners. (screaming) but something was weird the more you and Tom got close you were falling for him it was wrong you couldn’t fall for your teacher could you?

During school you once again arrived late to class you were tired, “Look who finally decided to show up” you knew that voice anywhere, Tom was staring right at you grazing his tongue over his piercing that made you go crazy but you just walked over to your desk not even giving a smart ass remark back to him.

For the rest of the class you didn’t even pay attention not even looking at Tom his gaze was directly on you though. He knew something was up but didn’t know what exactly. Class was finally over you got your things, you were about to go till Tom grabbed your wrist he was about to speak but you pushed him away and left the room.

-time skip

It was the end of the day, you were leaving school you didn’t know what to think, till a car stopped beside you and to your surprise it was Tom he got out the car and opened the passenger side for you “Get in” his voice was firm and he didn’t look to happy. “No” you tried walking away but he pulled you towards him “Just get the fuck in” you didn’t wanna piss him off even more than you already have so you got in unwillingly.

The car ride was quiet the silence wasn’t nice either you could cut the tension with a knife, his jaw was clenched his eyes directly on the road. After what seemed forever you were arrived at his house. Tom got you out of the car dragging you inside “Fuck Tom can you let go of me” you tried letting he ignored you, pulling you with so much force you were about to fall over.

He dragged you all the way up to his room slamming the door shut behind you pushing you on the bed you were so confused on what was going on. Tom towered over you straddling your hips and pinning both of your arms above your head.

He leaned down his face inches away from yours “So you wanna explain why the fuck you’ve been avoiding me and being such a brat liebe” his voice was rough there wasn’t much light only the window but you could make out every single inch of him. You didn’t know what to say but you decided to keep quiet Tom snickered before pressing his lips to yours.

His lips matched perfectly with yours the way his metal piercing felt against your lips was amazing, you moaned into the kiss letting his tongue enter your mouth (didn’t know how to word it 😭) his hand made it’s way to your neck squeezing gently, you could feel his hard on pressing down onto your lower stomach making you gasp Tom eventually pulled away his salvia coating your red lips.

You tried moving and getting out of his grip but it was difficult “Fucking stay still” Tom grabbed something out of his desk draw he grabbed your wrists handcuffing them together. (oh my god.) He trailed wet kisses along your neck nipping and sucking at different spots across your neck, soft moans escaped your mouth. He moved his hands lower down towards your aching core and pressing his index finger against your clothed clit.

You moaned in response a smirk appeared on Tom’s face, Slowly he peeled off yours and his clothes I swear you got just go weak at the sight of him everything about this guy was perfect no wonder why you fell him. Your eyes moved downwards to his cock his tip leaking with pre-cum your breath caught in your throat he was big to take in. “Tom I-“ you were interrupted “Hush I’ll make it fit liebe” his voice was gentle but teasing.

Tom positioned himself between your legs, “Such a pretty fuckin’ sight Schatz” his gaze was directly on your wet cunt he could go pussy drunk (no cause he so would.) He carefully moved his tip against your entrance before you could even get time to adjust to his length he rammed his cock deep inside you filling you up completely, “Tom fuck!” you moaned out arching your back.

He pulled out half away before thrusting back into you with such force, Tom groaned “Fuck you feel s’good around me Schatz takin’ me so well like the pretty slut you are hm?” His voice was dripping with lust, you couldn’t give a proper answer only moans and whines escaping your mouth. Your legs wrapped around his body, His hand moved to your neck squeezing gently.

His pace quickened moving in different types of angles hitting your g spot directly again and again. Your moans grew louder and louder it was like music to Tom’s ears, the room smelt like sex sweat, your head was crashing against the headboard everytime he thrusted into you, your walls clenched around him you knew you were close, “T-Tom I’m gonna cum soon” you whine out.

“You think you deserve to cum hm after you’ve been such a brat?” he asked me “yes fuck please Tom” you moan out the knot in your stomach grew tighter with each thrust, he looked down at you his gaze almost memorising he leaned down and whispered “Then Cum for me Liebe” he pulled out completely before ramming into you hitting your g spot once again that’s all you needed, You threw your head back your legs shaking and cummed all over his cock “Jesus Fuck liebe!” He moans out his pace slows down a bit riding out his high.

You let out a shaky breath trying to gain back your senses, Tom grabs a towel cleaning you both up and he removes the handcuffs off your wrists. Placing a kiss on your forehead laying down next to you his arm draped around your waist “alright now can you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me Schatz” he asks slightly concerned. You turn to look at him your eyes a little bit glossy “I think I might have feelings for you and I know it might be wrong but-“ Tom pressed a kiss to your lips.

After a few seconds he pulled back he tilted your chin up rubbing your cheek “I couldn’t care if I was your teacher or not Miene Liebe I feel the exact same way about you.” You hugged him tightly feeling a sense of comfort that you didn’t have to worry anymore about how he felt you felt so safe in Tom’s embrace you layed in his arms falling asleep peacefully.

A/n:I HAD NO IDEA I COULD WRITE SO MUCH. I hope you guys enjoyed send me more requests guys mwahhhh bye cuties. <33

Taglist:

@bunniesthoughts

@memzyyy

@madzandmore

@itsmealaiah

@jadedchar

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz smut #2010s

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rottenrosethorns · 11 months

Note

What about sextexting with re2 (or re4) leon while he's away on a work mission??? This idea just seems so 😩if you're not comfortable with it, that's okay too!

Pairing: RE2!Leon Kennedy x afab!Reader

Genre: Sexting/Video Call AU, Smut

Synopsis: While away on a mission, Leon has a hard time getting you out of his mind and vice versa. So when calling to check up, you have other plans to fill that void of loneliness.

Word Count: 4.0K

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; swearing, mentions of grooming, pillowfucking, dildo, blowjob, handjob, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, lingerie, name calling (good boy, naughty boy)

A/N: Special thanks to @starcrossedreaders for this request and graciously allowing me to change it because I had poop ideas! This is based on another smut I wrote a long time ago, but I hope it’s okay! Also, im writing this as my flight got delayed so I’m at the airport for 9 HOURS, so keep your expectations low :))))

__________

- masterlist -

__________

“What the fuck am I doing here?”

Leon groaned into the clean pillow of his hotel bed, face buried into its plushness as he sunk further into the mattress to alleviate the ache in his bones. Within the past forty-eight hours, he’d been flown across the country, forced into a suit to play guard dog for yet another socialite event, and thrown to the wolves commonly known as the rich singles that found an attractive police officer turned security guard a fun toy to play with. Just thinking about the much older women that were more than willing to groom him into submission made him shudder as he snuggled deeper into the crisp white sheets. With events like this, Leon wished he’d been put on traffic patrol near downtown square instead.

Grumbling, Leon forced himself to sit up and glance at his phone for any notification from you. Much to his dismay, his phone was blank with not even a missed call to excite some hope into him. He couldn’t blame you though, knowing that you were still at work and couldn’t get to your phone for another few hours. Leon just wished he was back home laying in your bed with him in your arms instead of this hotel with bedding material way too stiff for his liking. But of course, his flight wouldn’t depart until tomorrow, leaving Leon to spend the entirety of his night missing you.

Peeling himself out of the bed, he hoped a hot shower would help him feel better physically. Spoiler alert, it didn’t. Huffing, Leon found himself in his original position with his face first into the sheets and the only difference being that he had wet hair now. Flopping over, he closed his eyes, exhaling heavily as he attempted to succumb to the peace that sleep offered. Unfortunately, sleep seemed to avoid him as Leon continued to lay there lifeless in silence and darkness as his mind drifted and began to daydream about you out of boredom. At least in his consciousness, Leon could be by your side in whatever scenario he desired.

In his daydream, Leon saw your pleasantly surprised smile as you greeted him at the front door of your house. Walking through the threshold, Leon felt your arms wrap about his neck and shoulders as you stood on the tips of your toes to properly embrace him. Snuggling his face into the crook of your neck, Leon smelled your freshly washed clothing which instantly soothed him, reminding him that this scent was what home felt like. Pulling back, Leon tasted the sweetness of your lips as you pressed a long, loving kiss on his desperate lips. Looking into the depths of your eyes, Leon heard your soft whispers as you confessed how much you missed and loved him while he was gone. For a while, he relished in the warmth that you provided as he moved to squeeze you tighter as if you were to dissipate any second. However, as much as he yearned at his memories, the vision of you slowly blurred and scattered as the warmth and comfort of your body against his reverted to the cold, plush pillow as the fabric scratched against the skin of his naked chest. Frustrated, Leon threw the pillow across the room, leaving the bed empty along with the loneliness of his aching heart.

After a moment of silence to gather his thoughts, Leon realized how childish he acted just because he was missing his significant other who would more than likely call him after done with work. Embarrassed with his neediness, Leon shamefully walked over to pick up the discarded pillow and went back to bed, but this time properly cuddling the pillow as if to fill the void as he continued his make-believe scenarios. Leon was well aware that a pillow could never, ever replace your comfort, but this was all he got and this would have to do for now.

When he closed his eyes again, images of your carefree smile accompanying your fit of giggles blessed Leon’s affection starved heart. Giddy with excitement, Leon snuggled closer into the pillow, pressing himself firmly into the cotton mass which happened to accidentally brush against his groin. The sensation was not at all arousing, yet the images of you contorted into something much more erotic.

Leon froze with fear as worries washed over his consciousness. If he bucked his hips, would it feel good? If it felt good, would he be confident enough to use a hotel pillow to get off to the thought of you? It wasn’t as if anyone was watching nor would anyone know what he was doing in the privacy of his single hotel room stay, but the little voice in his head reasoning how weird he would be and how embarrassing it would be if he did cum to dry humping a pillow wrecked his nerves to the core.

It was almost enough to discourage him. Almost.

Leon swore he would’ve stopped, he really, really did. But he couldn’t help but let his mind drift towards you again, but this time with your legs fully opened and waiting. The sight of your glistening pussy and the curvature of your thighs were far too much for Leon to resist. The way that you looked up at him all innocently as your cavern clenched in anticipation sent him in disarray. So much so that he didn’t even realize he’d already begun rutting into the pillow. Looking down, Leon eyed the imprint of his hard on as his cock twitched to be halfway erected. As guilty as he was, Leon’s embarrassment for being so desperate for you was easily trumped with his lewd needs.

Leon shifted himself to sit up and rest his back against the headboard. Dick in hand, Leon pumped himself, twisting and tugging in the manner that you would’ve had if you were in the room with him. Leon hated teasing himself, but you loved it. And if you were the one touching Leon right now, that meant he had to edge himself to orgasm as he interchangeably bounced between jerking his fully hardened cock to adding hints of teasing squeezes along his shaft before teasing his tip.

“Fuck, yeah. Just like that, baby,” Leon scrunched his brows as if your memory would brighten behind his eyelids. He watched as your hands worked all along him, smearing his precum to lubricate the rest of his touch starved dick. He continued building the momentum of his fantasy for a few more minutes before his crave for release begged him to change his rhythm. Obeying his needs, Leon swiftly flipped himself over, using one hand to fold the pillow and pin it on the mattress. With the other hand, Leon guided his pulsating cock into the folds of the pillow and drove himself fully with a careful, experimental thrust.

Leon cringed with discomfort, underestimating the roughness of the fabric against the rawness of his bare dick. As much as he wanted to stop his sinful act, Leon’s desperate need for release overpowered his discomfort, thus justifying him to continue his steady ruts into the folds of the pillow. Since the pillow was not nearly as satisfying as you were – greatly due to the lack of slick wetness and warmth – Leon had plenty of time to experiment which angle and pace of thrusts felt better than other methods. Triumphantly, Leon was quick to discover that the faster he thrusted, the less he cared about the rough feeling of the fabric.

Once comfortable in pace, Leon shifted his focus back to you, specifically with your legs spread wide underneath him. He never understood how missionary was always such an underrated position. He loved seeing how much he ruined you. Whether it was the pleasurable tears prickling your lashes or biting your bottom lip in hopes of suppressing your moans, Leon wanted to see it all. There was no hiding from him, he wanted to know anything and everything about you, especially when it was about delivering you euphoric pleasure. Leon began to work up a sweat as he pounded harsher. For a brief moment, he felt himself get a little closer towards his much needed release until the overwhelming feeling of dryness paired with the rough fabric killed whatever inkling of pleasure was present.

"No, no, no, please," Leon mumbled in desperation as he sloppily rutted his hips forward. Like a starved man, Leon did everything in his power to overtake the pillow's hindrance. In his defense, Leon was so close to winning, but his desperation washed out his blurry view of you underneath him. No matter how hard he tried, Leon couldn't bring you back; therefore, indefinitely killing his mood and causing both his body and dick to fall limp in disappointment of a robbed release.

"Damn it," Leon threw the dirtied pillow somewhere across his room. It was useless for sleeping now anyways and apparently more so for fucking. Once softened, Leon redressed himself, heading straight under the covers to hide from the world and let sleep silence his embarrassing thoughts of self judgment. As usual, the lull of slumber snuffed the scattering voices in his head, offering a momentary period of peace. When he opened his eyes, Leon knew he barely got much sleep, inferring the time to be somewhere around the early morning hours based on the shadow casted room and the muffled ambiance of the city’s nightlife. He closed his eyes, dismissing whatever notification popped up on his phone to be irrelevant, yet no matter how hard he tried to go back to sleep, it seemed like sleep didn’t want him. Thus, Leon took the chance to reverse the sleepiness in his eyes and take a glance at his phone.

[ Wanna call? ]

…..

You stretched your aching muscles, wincing at the strain as your bones let out a satisfying pop. You’d just gotten home from hanging out with Claire and Rebecca for the evening. They knew how much you missed Leon while he was away, so the two of them took the liberty to invite you out after work to keep your yearning thoughts about Leon’s absence at bay. At first, the night started off fun and casual as usual, like sitting down at a nice restaurant and maybe grabbing a few drinks to release the day’s tension. However, before you could excuse yourself, Claire and Rebecca had other plans as they dragged you towards this new shop that just opened up. The only thing was that this shop was more so an adult clothing and toy store compared to the usual thrift shops you all frequented. At first, you refused to enter with them, not finding a reason to embarrass yourself while browsing for toys. You had Leon and that’s all you needed. But of course, for every argument you posed, Claire had a perfect counter argument to prove you wrong. Eventually, the two of them managed to convince you to browse the store and even offered to pay for anything that caught your eye, although you kindly rejected their offer. You swore you weren’t going to get anything, but you couldn’t help keep your eyes lingering on a sleek, not too erotic looking lingerie set on a mannequin as well as a classic clear dildo which had an uncanny resemblance to Leon. Your lingering looks did not go past the ladies as they, yet again convinced you to make the purchase. Their arguments being that it was better to have something rather than someone to keep you company while Leon was miles away.

So, with the goody bag in hand, the three of you said your goodbyes before you quickly rushed home to read up on your new toy. By the time you were done cleaning your dildo and setting it to dry, you were sure Leon was finished chaperoning the event, leading you to send a quick text. As usual, Leon’s response was instantaneous as you set up your tablet to video chat with him for the night. The outgoing ringtone hadn’t rung for a second before Leon’s tired but smiling face appeared on the screen. You fixed your hair, suddenly feeling self conscious being on camera, especially since the dildo was sitting at the corner of your eye, “It’s not too late, is it?”

As if his face weren’t already deeply etched into your memory, your eyes nervously examined every wrinkle and blemish, searching for anything that could tell you how his day had gone. You were trying to build up your confidence for the plan you’d been concocting, but first you needed to know whether or not Leon was even energetic enough to keep up with your needs.

Leon stifled a yawn, shrugging with one shoulder as if to sell his point, “Kinda, not too bad though.”

Worry washed over you as Leon stifled another yawn, but this time more poorly. You wondered if your plan to give him a show would be cut short from his exhaustion, not wanting him to push himself past his limits as tough as he was, “Am I keeping you up?”

“Never,” Leon shot you a lazy smile, tousling his already messy hair, “You can wake me up whenever.”

“Even on weekends?” You prompted with a laugh. As much as you cared for him and was worried about his sleep, you knew that Leon was most likely staying up to hear your voice even if it were only for a couple minutes. And as much as you wanted to badger him into tucking himself under the covers, you wanted to spend time with him just as much as he did with you.

“Even on weekends,” Leon hesitated once he saw the teasing smile creep onto your lips, “Okay, maybe not Sunday though.”

You both shared a quick laugh before a soft blanket of silence enclosed both ends of the call. At this rate, you’d both end up falling asleep online and you still had so much you wanted to show Leon. You piped up, forcing yourself to speak with more energy to uplift the sleepy call, “So, how was it? Boring? Exciting? Did you meet anyone famous?”

Folding your hands, you propped up your chin and tilted your face with curiosity as you patiently waited for Leon to recount his day. Much to your surprise, Leon seemed pretty vocal about this mission as he began his story with a large, exaggerated groan.

“Don’t even get me started,” Leon mumbled, “I’m sure there were famous people there, but it’s not like I could see any of them given the amount of cougars that came up to me, thinking that I was the son of some rich dude or whatever. Some of them were old enough to be my grandma!”

You giggled at Leon’s outburst, finding his mild inconvenience quite hilarious. Through your fit of laughter, you clutched your abdomen and failed to stifle the goofy smile bloomed on your lips. As much as he shuddered at the thought of the cougars, Leon was happy to see you laugh and smile from his experience. Afterall, this response was way better than having to tell you that he fought some seven foot monster determined to rip him apart limb by limb from another mission long ago.

Once settled, you wiped your tears. Looking back at the screen, you just realized how boyish he looked and how much you loved seeing him like this. Although he was tired, his droopy eyes, tangled hair, and naked chest set something off inside you, causing you to squirm in your seat as you pressed your thighs together. You weren’t trying to suppress the growing need inside you, but you needed to feel something without making it obvious. At least, not yet.

So, you decided to set the trap and wait for Leon to take the bait himself before proceeding any further, “Can’t blame them for choosing someone so handsome. I bet you looked amazing in your suit.”

“Thanks, but I only look good for one person,” Leon shot you a wink, causing you to blush but not look away, “So, what’d you do today?”

As flustered as you were, you knew that in order to perfectly execute your plan, you couldn’t waste anymore time contemplating your confidence. With this in mind, you sat back in your seat, letting your chest be put on display before moving forward with your bait, “You know, there was a store that just opened up. There was some pretty cool stuff in it.”

“Nice, what store was it? Did you get anything?”

You smiled triumphantly, now creating a perfect segway towards what you wanted, “I’ll show you, but you have to close your eyes, okay? No peeking!”

“I promise, no peeking.”

Once you knew that Leon’s eyes were fully closed, you quickly shuffled out of view and changed into that newly purchased lingerie set and grabbed your dildo. Covering up yourself again with one of Leon’s large shirts, you positioned yourself back into view, but this time you were standing instead of sitting. Checking yourself out through the feedback screen of the call, you analyzed the gather belts strapped around your thighs which peeked out below the hem of Leon’s shirt. If this wasn’t a big enough hint, you weren’t sure what would be. Taking a deep breath, you instructed, “Open your eyes.”

Without waiting for him to adjust, you started groping yourself over the shirt’s fabric, teasingly lifting up the hem to reveal the lace as you swayed your hips left to right. You had to hold back your smirk as you watched Leon get stunned into silence as his mouth slacked agape from your performance. Continuing, you stepped out to widen your stances and sway your hips lower and deeper before turning around and showing Leon your backside. Giving a little shake, you bent down even further. You didn’t have to see Leon’s face to know that he was already drooling from the sight of you.

“What- What are you doing?” Leon gulped nervously, not knowing what to expect from you nor how he should properly respond. Undoubtedly, blood was rushing towards his cock as it whined and ached for attention, but Leon was patient enough to at least find out what was going on before taking action.

You shushed him, hiking the hem of his shirt higher and biting it between your teeth, fully showing off the lacy set. You posed for a few moments as you rubbed your hands all along the sides of your body. Teasingly, you snapped the garter straps along your thighs before discarding his shirt entirely. Looking back at the screen, you tilted your head to feign innocence, “Does it look pretty?”

Leon inhaled sharply through his nose, “You look amazing. Is this what you bought today?”

“Yes,” You stretched out as if you weren’t telling the full truth, “But I got something else too.”

Leon licked his lips, eyes wide in anticipation as he wasn’t willing to miss anything that flashed across the screen, “What is it?”

“I’ll get to that soon, but first, wouldn’t you like to join me?” You began by taking one hand to pop a titty out of your bra cup and pinch your nipple, wordlessly insinuating what you were planning to show him. Catching your hints, Leon followed your lead as he sat back and repositioned the camera to capture his crotch as his hard-on poked through the fabric of his pants. Sighing at the sight of him, you took a seat again before you commanded him to undress and start touching himself as you snuck your other and to pull your underwear to the side and spread your juices to rub your clit. Obediently, Leon pulled down his pants and grabbed his cock with a firm grip, pumping as he watched your fingers trace along your nerves. Keeping one hand focused on rubbing your clit, you took your hand away from your nipples and reached over for your clear dildo. Bringing the dildo to view, you looked at the toy as if it were Leon before bringing it close to your mouth to lick a long stripe on its underside. You licked it once, twice, barely sucking in the head of the dildo before spitting on it and sliding it fully along your tongue and throat. From his fogged vision, Leon tensed as he admired the outline of the dildo imprinted behind your cheeks and wished that it were him instead.

Leon groaned with pleasure, hand tightening around his cock before his strained voice broke the lewd sounds of your lips and saliva on your dildo, “I thought you didn’t do toys.”

Taking out the dildo with a pop and a string of spit trailing from the tip, you shrugged and took the dildo back into deepthroat this time, “I miss you.”

From your half-lidded eyes, you watched as Leon pumped himself, encouraging you to elicit muffled moans around your dildo. Without missing a beat, you shoved your fingers deep into your cunt and followed the pumps of your dildo with the thrusts of your curled fingers. The microphone picked up the squelch of your sweetness as Leon’s thoughts and vision blurred with the sight of you spread out for him, “Fuck, I miss you too, baby. Keep going, keep going for me.”

Mutually agreeing to skip the foreplay, you began to match his pace, inserting your slick fingers deeper into your leaking entrance with every jerk of his wrist. Pulling the dildo out of your mouth with a crisp pop, you swirl your tongue to coat your lips with spit, letting some drip out to your chest. You took out your fingers, scooping your essence to coat the dildo before licking your hand clean. You repositioned yourself, lining up the dildo at your clenching entrance, “You ready to watch me get filled up? Are you going to wait to cum with me or are you going to be a naughty boy and selfishly chase after your own orgasm?”

Leon whimpered, forcing his hand to let go of his throbbing dick and clench the muscles of his thigh, “I’m not a naughty boy, I’ll wait. I’m a good boy. I’m a good boy, right? Have I been a good boy?”

You spread your legs wider, teasing the tip to insert in and out of you, “Have you?”

Leon bit his lip, forgetting his manners, “Please? Please let me cum, I need to see you, please, ple-”

You shushed him before inserting the dildo balls deep into you, sighing as the veins traced your walls, “Touch yourself, my good boy. I want to see us cum together.”

Like before, you matched your pace with Leon’s, fucking yourself faster than before as Leon increased his pace. On the screen, you watched as Leon’s movements became sloppier, hips now thrusting his hardened dick into his hand. The blue light emitting from his laptop illuminated his sweat coated chest, highlighting his abs beautifully. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, slightly whimpering from the rough pace you set yourself at. At this speed, you watched your cum filled pussy overflow as your liquids began to foam and drip out of you and around your dildo. From your whimpers, Leon’s moans increased in pitch, signaling that he was close to release, “You ready, baby?”

Leon hissed through gritted teeth, “Fuck yes. Please, let me cum. Please, I need you.”

“Cum for me, let me see you,” You gasped, sheathing the dildo fully inside you as you watched the sticky, white substance shoot from Leon’s tip. Your pussy clenched impossibly tighter around the dildo as you watched his cum drip from his belly button towards the base of his dick, leaving a deliciously glittering trail in its wake.

Leon breathed heavily, coming back down from his high, “That was surprising.”

“Good?” You asked nervously, wincing as you slid the dildo out of you.

Leon’s eyes lingered for a moment before softening, “More than good.”

You let out a soft, exhausted smile, “I can’t wait for you to come home.”

“Yeah,” Leon whispered sweetly, “Me too.”

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