#but she said ‘let me look at that handsome man again’ so ig it’s a win | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clitsuckerer · 2 years

Text

apple of my eye

dilf!dreamwastaken x fem!reader

WARNINGS- dilf!neighbour!dreamwastaken cheats on his wife with you, mostly dreams pov, infidelity, no specific age mentioned for the reader but the reader is 18+ and younger than dream!!, light yandere themes, pervy dream, age gap, innocence kink, voyeurism, size kink, sir kink, dream is not the best dad or husband in this uhh, but he's good to you so, no mention of readers dad because daddy issues ig, dream n glasses is a warning in itself

SUMMARY- dream hates his life but he loves you, his new sweet little neighbour.

WORDS- 7.7k+

masterlist

⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⇢✇ ＭＩＮＯＲＳＤＮＩ ✇⇠⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯

the sound of the doorbell broke through the chaos of the house, boxes strewn about and kids screaming down the spacious hallways.

dream and his family had just moved into this posh new house that his wife had whined and begged for, saying that they just had to upgrade from their humble old home to this more than pretentious house now that they were making more money than they ever had, always whining his ear off about how she wanted the kids to live nice and how she deserved it.

deserved it my ass, she did fucking nothing all day except whine his ear off and drink wine.

letting out a big sigh when the doorbell rang again and it had yet to be answered, dream removed his reading glasses and reluctantly hauled up off of his office chair and down the stairs, passing boxes and clutter with unhappy grumbles and annoyed grunts until he finally reached the front door.

opening it he was greeted with the sight of a middle aged woman smiling all too brightly for his grumpy mood, it was almost headache inducingly bright but the little glimpse he got of a young girl standing next to the lady made all his annoyances go away in a heartbeat.

the woman was talking but everything sounded muffled to dream, gorgeous eyes peaked up at him from behind thick eyelashes, looking at him with curious but shy eyes and his heart melted right there when you shuffled your feet and gave him a charming little smile.

you were such a sweet little thing, all dolled up in your cute dress and mary janes, lighting up his doorstep with your infectious smile as you stood with your mother holding a plate of delicious looking homemade cookies. your adorable beauty had dream absolutely awestruck.

“excuse me, hello?” dream was snapped back to reality when your mother waved a hand in front of his face, slowly dragging his green eyes away from the cute girl on his doorstep and back to her.

“oh uh- sorry, what did you say?” dream managed to stutter out in his dumbstruck state that you had unknowingly knocked him into, his eyes immediately sneaking back to you after a second of looking away.

“i said hi there, we're your neighbours! we live right next door, we just wanted to welcome you to the neighbourhood and bring you some cookies.” the woman in front of him spoke, she was very warm and welcoming though he still couldn’t tear his eyes off the beautiful young girl he could see patiently standing next to her.

“uh hello, nice to meet you,” clearing his throat, dream tried his best to tear his eyes away from you, the glint lighting up his green eyes like a teenager discovering a new all consuming crush and he damn near felt like that too. “and who are you?” the question just came blurting out, he had to know who the angel gracing him with her presence was.

“oh! this is my daughter, introduce yourself dear.” your mother nudged you toward the handsome man, looking up at him with a shy smile when you stumbled to a stop in front of his towering figure. his grumpy attitude was instantly lifted the moment your free hand connected with his outstretched one, the feel of your soft skin against his sending shock waves all throughout his body the moment your hands connected. your hand was so small and delicate in his he felt that if he squeezed even a little bit too hard you would break, he wanted to break you but not in that way so he was sure to be careful with your precious hand.

“it’s nice to meet you sir!” your voice was so pure, a happy little chirp in it despite the shyness obviously creeping up on you. it made the corner of his plump lips pull upwards into a rare smile, your softness rubbing off on him and making him forget that your mother was still present. all he could focus on was your pretty face looking up at him and your small hand being encased by his much larger one, feeling as if it were made to be held in his.

and the way you called him sir, god did it have him swooning. he had been called it many times by many different people but none had uttered it like you had, none had made him want to hear it endlessly like you.

his fond smile instantly dropped into a cold frown though when the sound of a throat clearing broke him out of his bubble, reluctantly dropping your hand when his wife stepped up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“oh how nice! you brought cookies.” the plate was snatched right out of your hand, taken off of you by his wife without so much as a thank you or even an introduction. dream had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, she’s such a fucking bitch sometimes.

his wife and your mother stood there for a bit, getting to know each other while all he could do was admire you standing in front of him, itching for everyone else to disappear so he could be alone with you. he had never felt this kind of instant attraction before, had never felt his heart skip so many beats when you would catch his eye and smile shyly at him.

apparently your mom had invited them around for dinner later that night which he only learned once his wife had started scolding him for not being ready to leave when it got to the time they had arranged to be there, he had been way too busy sneaking glances at you to listen to their conversation so to say he was in a bad mood when they arrived was an understatement. it was instantly replaced with a warm feeling though when you answered the door in your prettiest dress and a breath-taking smile that he could have sworn was directed solely towards him.

for some reason, just seeing you made him forget about his bitching wife and rowdy kids, just the brush of your dainty fingers against his when you took his coat from him had him yearning to hold your hand in his once again.

your mother had insisted that you give dream a little tour around your house while her and his wife finished up dinner and cared for the kids, which he was very thankful for as it meant he got to be alone with you for a while, he would take any time he could get with you at this point. it also happened to be a plus that he got to be away from his headache inducing family.

"and this is my room!" dream looked around your cutely decorated room, memorising everything as you jumped on your stuffed animal covered bed, landing on your stomach and bouncing lightly on the soft mattress causing your dress to ride up and expose your plush thighs and a peek of your ass to dream’s perverted eyes.

the picture of fucking you dumb in all different kinds of positions flashed through his mind, he wanted to defile you on this very bed when you turned around to rest on your back, hugging a stuffed walrus to your chest and looking up at him with sparkling eyes.

he could do so much to you right now, you were just staring into his eyes like you were asking him to make a move and he was so close to doing something, so close to ruining you while both of your families were just downstairs. he was so absorbed in the moment that he didn’t even hear his wife calling his name from downstairs until her footsteps thudding up the stairs snapped him out of his stupor.

his cock was hard for the rest of the night, he had to sit through dinner with your parents and his wife and kids with a hard on that you had unknowingly caused and the most lewd and dirty thoughts of you running through his mind, all while you sat across from him, looking so utterly oblivious to the newly formed infatuation engulfing him.

after they had eaten dinner and dessert they had gotten ready to leave, while dream’s wife and your mother were discussing more dinner plans and cooing over the sleepy children dream was saying goodbye to you, embracing you for a suspiciously long time and smelling your sweet scented hair before he went home and waited until his wife was sleeping soundly next to him to jerk his aching cock, the thought of you the only thing on his mind when he came the hardest he had in years.

it just so happened that his office window faced directly across from your bedroom window, only a few feet of space between the side of the two houses which allowed him to see almost every inch of your small room perfectly.

the first time that he saw you through your window, it was mid-morning and he was sitting at his desk half invested in the paperwork in front of him when he had looked up for a brief second, quickly doing a double-take when he noticed you through his window, laid out on your stomach and feet crossed together in the air as you read a book on your bed. as if on instinct his eyes slowly ran down the deep arch of your back, coming down to admire the plump curve of your ass through your pretty sundress. he caught himself after a second, scolding himself for checking out your ass again but he couldn’t stop himself from looking back at you, nor could he help the way his dick jumped up the second he laid his eyes on you.

his paperwork was long forgotten, instead of completing it he sat for hours watching you get lost in the pages you were turning, admiring your relaxed figure as the day passed by way too quickly.

he was finally snapped out of his trance when his office door flew open, his screaming son tumbling in quickly followed by his daughter running behind him, he didn’t even realise that they were home he was that entranced by you. dream sighed deeply when they immediately started rambling on about what the other had done, taking off his glasses and exasperatedly rubbing his tired eyes as if to get rid of the thoughts that were still plaguing his mind before he gave your oblivious figure one last lingering glance and got up to deal with his rowdy children.

you had seemed to either like letting the sunlight in or you forgot to close them because ever since that day your curtains were always open, night and day he could always see every inch of your bedroom that you spent a lot of time in. and at first it was somewhat innocent, instead of doing his work he would find himself admiring you while you did random things in your room, everything you did intrigued him to no end, he even moved his desk in front of the window so he could see you better. eventually he had started to neglect his family, spending all day every day locked away in his study under the guise of work but really he was watching you study or paint your nails or watching you dance around to your favourite songs.

you never noticed him, remaining completely oblivious to the middle-aged man watching you flutter about your bedroom all too innocently and he took advantage of that, closing his curtains until nothing but a gap remained so he could watch you without getting caught when he thought that it was too risky.

he tried not to let the guilt of watching you creep up on him, he tried to justify it, really he tried to convince himself that he wasn’t doing anything that wrong, that he wasn’t a dirty old man who was way too infatuated with watching his pretty young neighbour for it to be innocent.

when he would see you outside of his house he couldn’t help but avert his gaze, cheeks a flaming red when you would call out a greeting and send him a cute little wave. he couldn’t look you in the eye knowing the thoughts that he had about you, all the dreams and daydreams of you bouncing on his cock or of bending you over in his marital bed and making you cover the sheets in your juices. he couldn’t look at you properly knowing how many times he had fucked his hand while thinking of you, he felt too dirty.

all of the innocence of the situation, if there was any to begin with, disappeared one sunny tuesday. he had been actually getting some work done for once when he heard a faint girlish humming come from your bedroom, his head snapping up at light speed when he noticed it was you.

blood rushed to his cheeks when the first thing he was greeted by was you sliding off your dress, quickly realising that you were getting undressed right in front of him and he was just watching like a creep.

he knew it was wrong, it was so beyond wrong to watch a girl half his age get undressed without her knowledge but how could he not. you were literally right there, showing him your perfect body covered in a cute little bra and panties. his dick jumped to life when you unclipped your bra, sliding it off of your chest and revealing the side view of your perky tits to him.

how the fuck was he supposed to look away from such a tempting sight?

he couldn’t look away if he tried, utterly fascinated as you wiggled your hips and danced adorably to the tune you were humming. he ached to touch your smooth looking skin, his hand twitching towards his crotch to rub the bulge stirring underneath his sweatpants as he watched you dance around your room, tits bouncing deliciously and he swore it was just for him.

unknowingly he had let his hand slip into his pants and pull his dick out, starting to rub his cock to the sight of you naked and dancing. he was already as hard as a rock and only getting harder as he jerked his leaking cock, his hand moving at light speed to relieve himself quickly.

dream imagined it was your hand jerking him off instead of his own, he knew it would feel like heaven to have your hands wrapped around him, playing with him until your heart's content. he would let you do anything to him. his thumb rubbed at his tip gathering the pre come and spreading it down his pulsating cock, causing a squelching sound to fill his study that sounded so fucking good to dream although he wished it was your juices causing the sound instead of his.

a loud moan helplessly fell from his lips when you faced the window and revealed your perfect tits and pretty pussy to him, your eyes closed and your hands running down your body. ribbons of cum spurted from his cock and covered his shirt within seconds, his high hitting him out of nowhere and hitting him strong.

he didn’t even get a second to really feel his orgasm before he had to quickly slide to the floor when you looked out of your window with curious eyes and your cute nose all scrunched up, seemingly searching for the reason of the strange loud noise and dream could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his orgasm seconds before partly to blame though if he was being honest, being that close to you catching him jerking off not only scared the absolute shit out of him but ashamedly made his cock rise again all too quickly.

after a minute of waiting just to be safe, dream poked his head up to peek at your window only to see it empty. heaving out a sigh, he looked away from the window that your gorgeous naked body had just been gracing, trying to get back to his important work despite his still hard cock making him lose his train of thought every five seconds. even when he wasn't longingly staring at your window he was thinking of you, consumed by the thought of your perfect body that you didn't even know he had seen. it was quite literally driving him crazy, you were driving him crazy.

one day it all changed though. as per usual dream had been hauled up in his office, alone for the day as his kids were at school and his wife was out god knows where when he once again spotted you from his desk, the only thing covering your body a cute pink towel it was obvious you had just gotten out of the shower. of course dream just had to slip a hand in his pants, who wouldn’t in this situation. you look so good with your wet hair and smooth wet skin, fuck if he got his hands on you he would treat you so good.

he froze as he all of a sudden made eye contact with you, basically malfunctioning when you waved at him as if you weren’t only covered by a tiny towel. he didn’t know what to do, he was silently panicking on the inside so when he didn’t wave back like he usually would your eyes travelled down the length of his arm, stopping at his hand that was buried inside of his unzipped pants. he didn't know what you were thinking when you stared at him for a while, once again making eye contact with the frozen man after a minute of looking intently at his still hand.

a mischievous smile grew on your tempting lips, the towel hiding you from him suddenly dropping to the floor and revealing your still wet body to his shocked self. he didn’t know if this was real or not, if he was just dreaming the most realistic dream he’s ever had or if this was a nightmare meant to torture him and any second he would wake up desperately hard and still next to his sleeping wife, still living his boring life that he had grown to despise.

you stared at each other for a while, both waiting for the other to do something first and dream finally said fuck it once he got over the shock of you revealing yourself to him, whether it was a dream or not he would not miss this opportunity. his hand slowly started to rub his dick once again to the sight of you, it felt completely different this time though maybe it was because you were willingly showing him your perfect body or maybe it was the way you started playing with your beautiful tits, either way it got his dick harder than it had ever been.

you bit your lip as you caressed your perky tits, wide eyes watching his hand pump his large dick. knowing that your eyes were glued to his dick made him let out a low moan and move his hand so fast it was just a blur to you both. the guys your age would have no shot if he was already feeling like this, like he could cum from just the sight of you playing with your perfect tits. you weren’t even in the same house for god’s sake and yet you were driving him insane. dream knew you were the prettiest fucking person alive and he knew for sure he was the luckiest man alive to be able to see you like this.

still pumping his dick, he watched you turn around and make your way to your bed, giving him an eyeful of your gorgeous ass which was enough to distract him from wondering what you were doing until you got on your hands and knees on your spacious bed and started crawling up towards the headboard.

something in him snapped when you turned back around with a little grin, leaned back on your headboard and spread your legs, your small fingers reaching down to rub at your swollen clit. it was like something took over his mind, putting him in a trance and making him get up out of his seat, his feet taking him through his empty house, out the front door and straight to your house. he didn’t even bother knocking, he was far beyond courtesies at this point. all he wanted was to finally be buried in your sweet little cunt and absolutely nothing would get in his way of achieving that.

dream stomped straight up to your bedroom, almost kicking down your door in his frenzied rush to get to you and making a beeline right to your frozen figure. he grabbed you by your ankles, dragging you towards the end of your bed earning a squeal from you before standing over you with his large imposing body, panting heavily as he stared down at you with a wild look in his dark eyes.

“do you know how fucking crazy you’re driving me,” his voice was dark and scary when he spoke, sending shivers down your spine. you quickly shook your head from side to side, looking at him like a deer caught in headlights, or more fittingly like a deer that’s been lured into a hunters trap.

his thumb ran tenderly over your plush lips, a manic grin tugging at his own, “hmm, of course you don’t. you’re just an obvious little kitten aren’t you.” the wedding ring on his finger sparkled against the smooth skin of your neck, his hand curling around your throat and dragging you into a feverish first kiss. you were noticeably much more inexperienced than dream but he could care less, just having your soft lips against his was almost making him cream his pants.

you were trying to keep up with his rushed movements the best you could and he applauded you for it, not even he could keep up with himself right now but then again he didn’t really mind it, and you didn’t seem too either judging by the way you whined needily into his mouth.

it was incredibly hard to pull away from your sweet lips, the taste of you was so addicting he couldn’t control himself from kissing you over and over again until the urge for air became too much to ignore for the both of you, reluctantly pulling away from you and resting his head against yours, his hot breaths hitting your kiss swollen lips.

“have you ever had your pussy eaten before, kitten?”

“u-uhm, no.” your bashfulness made his cock twitch in his pants, knowing he was going to be the first person to eat your sweet pussy satisfied him to no end. he was going to make sure that he remained the only person to ever put their mouth on any part of your body.

“do you want me to make you feel good?” his question was immediately answered with a frantic nod and an eager ‘yes please!’ so he got straight to work, his mouth was watering with the need to taste your juices.

he started at your ankle, leaving wet, lingering kisses up your smooth legs as his eyes stayed locked with yours in a sensual gaze. the light kisses tickled you apparently because you let out the sweetest giggles as he did this, which of course made him smile and chuckle against you. fuck his cock was the hardest it had ever been and he was dying to be inside of you but no matter the situation, no matter where you were or what you were doing, you never failed to make him melt inside.

finally he got to your soft thighs, laying loving pecks on the inside of both of them before he pulled back a bit to admire you layed out underneath him. you looked so tiny under him, looking up at him with a flustered face and wide doe eyes. you were just waiting for him to make his move, so eager for him to show you all that you had been missing out on, all that he had been missing out on.

holding your legs spread out for him, dream ran a slim finger through your puffy wet folds, collecting your sticky juices on his finger and rubbing your clit with the shining digits. he watched your hips buck up in utter fascination, appreciating you for a long second before he dived right into your awaiting pussy.

his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when the taste of your sweet juices hit his tongue for the first time but he wanted to see you while he devoured you, he wanted to see your cute face scrunch up in pleasure and your gorgeous tits push up toward the ceiling when your back arched. he didn’t want to miss a second of it.

dream sucked your clit as harshly as he could before he stuck his tongue out and shook his head from side to side, his warm wet tongue bumping into your sensitive nub over and over again making you cry out and tangle your hands in his hair. you were so reactive to anything he did, even when he pushed his tongue into your tight hole you reacted like it was his dick fucking you and he loved it.

your plush thighs encircled his head despite his best efforts to hold them open, he was way too weak right now to even bother trying to keep them open so he just let you do as you please. his hips started humping against your bed as he ate your pussy like a man starved, trying to get the ache in his cock to go away. his deep groans were vibrating against your wet pussy, his long fingers coming to tease around your entrance before one pushed inside of you and started slowly pumping in sync with the thrusts against your bed.

with a loud cry of his name and a pull of his hair, your juices flooded into his eager mouth, desperately collecting every bit of your sweetness that he could as you came undone under him. dream had never seen anything as beautiful as you in all his years of living, your eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open and your back arched beautifully.

eventually he had to pull away, not only for air but because he was on the verge of cumming from his rutting against the mattress and he really didn’t want to cum anywhere else but on or inside of you. giving your pussy one last long lick dream pulled away with dilated eyes and swollen wet lips, you didn’t look any better underneath him with your darkened face and heavy breaths. it caused a great pride spread through him knowing that he had destroyed you with just his mouth, if you were like this just because of him eating you out he could only imagine the way you would react to his cock.

he leaned back against your headboard with you kneeling between his legs, guiding both of your cute little hands to wrap around his thick length. seeing your pink painted nails contrasting against his leaking red cock made his head fall back and his hips buck up into you, your small hand jerking him off felt amazing, so much better than anything he had ever felt in his life and it was only your hand causing him this much pleasure.

“am i doing it right sir?” your voice was breathy as you seeked his approval, still breathless from your intense orgasm.

“fuck yes- you’re doing so good kitten,” his hips started moving in time with your strokes, bucking up into your hands and almost cumming on the spot when he felt your wet mouth lick at the pre come leaking from his cock. “ah s-shit!”

his hips bucked up without his control when you tried to take as much of him into your mouth as you could, accidentally shoving himself down your throat and causing you to sputter around his cock.

“fuck, sorry kitten,” despite his apology it was very obvious he liked the sensation of your throat around him, so with a giggle you kept trying to shove his cock down your small throat as far as you could. “fuck look at you, so beautiful baby girl.”

one of his large hands reached down to move some hair from your face so he could gaze into your sparkling eyes looking up at him from between his legs, your hands tugging his shaft and playing with his full balls while you choke yourself on his cock.

as much as he wanted you to keep sucking his cock, he knew that he wouldn’t last if you did. it had been so long since he’s had sex and even longer since he last had his dick sucked, plus the view of you on your knees before him, looking up at him as you licked at his dick like you were desperate for his cum- he knew he had no chance in hell of lasting more than five minutes, especially when you started moaning against him.

enjoying the feeling of you mouthing at him for a bit longer, he reluctantly pulled you off of his cock and towards his face to connect your lips in a sloppy kiss, spit gathering between you.

your body was suddenly flipped over onto your back and your legs tossed over his strong shoulders, dream coming to hover over you with one hand resting next to your head and the other guiding his cock to run through your soaking folds.

“so wet for me kitten, does it feel good?” you nodded desperately, a whimpered ‘uh huh!’ falling from your swollen lips had him leaning his forehead against yours, the sensation of his dick parting your soft folds and covering it in your slick made him feel more weak than he had ever felt, it was like you just knocked the breath right out of him but also made him breath easy as you looked into his eyes with an endless amount of trust and hazy lust. it was a weird mix but one he was more than accepting of, he had never felt this way and that's how he knew this was something unique, something to be treasured and taken care of.

you both watched as his cock entered your virgin pussy for the first time, the long and thick shaft splitting you open inch by inch as he stuffed you full of him. your tight walls wrapped around him felt so heavenly, he swore he had never had pussy that felt this good. he briefly wondered if he had been with all the wrong people or if it was just you, just your pussy that was made to be filled by him. stopping himself from jamming his cock all the way into you was incredibly hard, it took everything in him to ease in slowly. you had never taken a dick before let alone one as big as his and it showed with the way you squirmed uncomfortably under him, your hands gripping onto the back of his head tightly and your eyes squeezing shut, he knew he had to take it slow for you.

“it’s ok, you’re fine i’ve got you,” dream comforted you softly, trying to get you to be less tense around his achingly hard cock. it was weird, he had no idea where this softness came from, where this urge to protect and take care of you had appeared from because he had never been like this with any of his past lovers before, not even his wife of more than a decade had seen much of his softer side. “do you want me to stop?”

“no! no, keep going please.” a pained little whimper cut you off, pulling at his heart strings but he kept going until he bottomed out, your pussy hugging him in a vice-like grip when he was buried balls deep inside you.

nuzzling his face into your neck, dream started pumping his cock into your tight walls slowly, just enjoying the feeling of your pussy gripping him for the first time. your moans were getting louder the harder he started fucking you and he couldn’t hold his back either, there was no need to anyway so he let out all the words and moans that slipped past his lips

he was fucking you so good, knocking the breath out of you each time he shoved his fat dick into you, and probably the sense too judging by the way drool was leaking from your open mouth, not even able to make a sound. he could barely make sense of the words that were falling from your lips among the moans sounding in the room but he could discern sir and a very slurred sogoodsogood mixed in there.

“your pussy is so fucking good kitten fuck, made to be fucked by me weren’t you?” dream grunted out, pulling away from your clinging body and leaning back on his knees so he could see your perky tits bounce with every hard thrust he gave. “huh? tell me you were made to be fucked by me baby.”

“yes sir, i-i was made to be f-fucked by you!” your voice was wavering with every word, you were barely coherent but right now you would say or do absolutely anything that dream asked you.

“good fucking girl, you’re such a good girl,” he gave a few more hard thrusts before pulling out of you with a grunt, leaving you spread out under him, your pussy empty and hands trying to grab at him. the sight of you all fucked out underneath him was enough to make his mouth salivate. he couldn’t help leaning down to give your swollen clit a harsh suck, groaning at the taste of his and your juices mixing on his tongue.

he continued to jerk his cock while he moved to rest on his back, watching with half lidded eyes as you seemed to get what he wanted you to do, placing your hands on his chest and straddling his large frame between your cute legs, one of your small hands reaching down to position his cock at your entrance and sinking yourself down onto him.

a hand came to cradle the back of your head, pulling you down so your foreheads were resting against each other and your eyes locked in an unbreakable gaze while dream propped his feet onto the bed, his hands grabbing your hips for leverage as he started ploughing his cock into your soaked pussy from underneath you.

an all consuming urge to have you scream had him fucking up into you more relentlessly, wanting to hear your screams of pleasure ring through the whole damn neighbourhood. he could care less about anything else right now, all he could focus on was your tight little cunt squeezing the life out of him each time he filled you to the brim, the obscene squelching noises caused by the good fucking you were getting being drowned out by your loud moans that were getting louder each passing second he continued to bury his cock deep inside of you.

his dick pulled almost all the way out suddenly, only his tip remaining hugged by your velvety walls making you whine pathetically and try to bounce yourself on his cock, wanting to feel him in you once again but dream’s strong hands stopped him from filling you completely despite your best efforts.

“look at you, such a desperate little kitten aren’t you,” his pupils were blown out and his cheeks were flushed as he stared up at you with a dark look glinting in his eyes, wanting to hear your innocent self beg for him to keep fucking you like a whore. “what do you want pretty girl? you want me to keep fucking your pussy, huh?”

“y-yes! please sir, pleasepleaseplease fuck me i need it so bad please.” your voice sobbed out to him, words rushed and jumbled in your fucked out state. you were so ruined for him, so desperate for him to keep fucking you that you didn’t care about how pathetic you were in that moment, you had gotten a taste of him and you didn’t ever want to let go. luckily he felt the same but tenfold, so addicted to being buried in your tight pussy that he couldn’t not give into your pleas, immediately filling you with his thick cock again and continuing his frantic pace.

he hadn’t known this kind of pleasure for a long time, he had never even looked at other women while with his wife, being way too work addicted and somewhat content in his mediocre marriage to notice or care about anything else but now that he had seen you, now that he had gotten to know your cute little self he felt like a completely different man.

you were so wrapped up in each other that you remained completely oblivious to the world around you, not caring in the haze of pleasure and infatuation that the world was still moving outside of you two.

“hello?” dream’s wife called out, setting down her keys and taking off her jacket. “honey, we’re home! where are you?”

waiting for a response for a moment and hearing none she ventured around the house in search for him, after checking all of the downstairs area and most of upstairs she came across his office, the door wide open which was very unusual. he was always so adamant about it always being closed and no one was to ever go in there. she found it incredibly odd when he would get so territorial about it, but she summed it up to not wanting her or the kids interrupting him while he worked.

she cautiously walked in, looking around the dark empty room and discovering that dream was in fact not in there. her brows furrowed as she didn’t see him but she did see a very weirdly placed desk, pushed up right underneath the cracked open window.

what a weird place for him to put his desk.

walking towards it she noticed the scattered paperwork, all of the pages incomplete which was weird for dream as it was almost dinner time and he always used to have his work finished by then. a sinking feeling grew in her stomach when she saw the photo frames containing multiple family pictures turned face down on the unusually messy desk like he couldn’t stand the sight of them, that feeling was worsened when she heard distant sounds coming from outside of the window his desk was residing in front of, the sounds unmistakable despite being muffled.

looking out of his window, she almost didn’t see it at first. from here she could see perfectly into the pretty young girl who lived next door’s bedroom window. she could see everything, she could see the small desk covered with papers and textbooks, she could see the open closet full of pretty coloured clothes and she could see your bed, the bed in which her husband of 10 years and the father of her children was currently fucking said young girl on.

she couldn’t look away, her hands getting clammy and shaky and the tears that were building in her eyes slowly rolled down her cheeks and yet she could not look away from the sight of her husband fucking you more passionately, more loving than he had ever fucked her.

the way he cradled you as you rode him killed her inside, he held you as if you were his whole world and he looked at you like he would give you the universe if you so much as even glanced at it. even when he was carelessly bouncing you on his cock he gazed into your eyes with the utmost love and admiration, he was using your body like you meant nothing to him but it was obvious you meant everything to him.

his wife had found it suspicious when he had a lock installed on his office door, even more so when he would be hauled up in there from the time he woke up to the time he went to bed, sometimes he didn’t even make it to bed, choosing to sleep on the small couch in his study or falling asleep at his desk instead of next to her.

she supposes that was the first of many signs that she should have noticed yet somehow didn’t.

now realising that this was why he spent so much time in this damned room, this was why he hardly spent any time with his family anymore, with her anymore. really she should have known, it was only instinct for men to want to taint the innocent and innocent you were, with your cute little mannerisms and sweet aura. maybe this is all he needed, maybe if he got it out of his system he would come back to her.

the tears eventually blocked her vision, the sounds of your girlish moans mixed with dream’s deep ones echoing in his now cold study, and her head.

deciding not to torture herself any further, she tried to collect herself before opening the door and picking up her children from school, she wiped the never-ending tears falling down her blotchy cheeks, took a deep breath and plastered a fake smile across her face so she didn’t alert the kids.

later when dream would come home, she would act like she saw nothing, like he didn’t look dishevelled and like he didn’t even try to hide it. she would welcome him with a kiss on the cheek as she always does, except now he leaned away from her, barely looking at her though when he did it was with a newfound disgusted and disinterested look.

had he always looked at her like that?

she would notice the little things that have changed, like how he didn’t have dinner with his family anymore and even on the rare occasions when he did he wasn’t really there, always so detached and lost in thought, or how he would lock himself in his office with you now, ‘to help her with school work’ he would tell her, god knows how your mom didn’t catch on though she guesses that's the reason you’re so oblivious, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree as some would say but she does wonder if she hadn’t of seen what she had seen, if she would have even known what was happening behind her back.

everything was suddenly always about you you you, about how well you’re doing in school and how proud dream is of his little muse, he had taken you under his wing to ‘prepare you for the business side of life’. it almost insulted her that he thought she was that dumb.

she wanted to hate you, she wanted to think of you as just a stupid little girl with a school girl crush on the taken older man, but how could she when really she was the stupid one, vying for the attention of her cheating husband who had obviously fallen out of love with her. it was pathetic, but she loved him and in her defence, she really thought that she stood a chance against you.

she would continue to go out places, the thought of what dream was doing at home haunting her throughout the day and when your family would come over for dinner she would continue to be the ever so foolish wife of dream, greeting you with a welcoming smile that hid so many emotions. she would watch insecurely as you interacted with her and dream’s kids like you weren’t tearing their family apart, like you weren't tearing her apart. she felt like an outsider in her own home now, hell she felt like an outsider in her own marriage.

now she noticed the looks that you shared, the infatuated and longing looks that a married man should not be giving a girl your age, like you guys were having your own conversation through your eyes and nobody else could understand it. there were so many words she could use to describe the looks you shared but she tried not to think about it too much, because dream had never looked at her like that and she didn’t know if he ever would though she knew she would kill for him to look at her like that.

she would start comparing herself to you, to your lovely smile and alluring body. she would adjust her clothes and change her hair but nothing would get his attention. she thought if she changed these little things about herself to be more like you, to be something that dream would like, that he would love her again. except she would never be you, she would never taste like you or react like you, she would never suck his cock like you do or call him sir like you do. you were the complete opposite of his wife, all wide eyed and bright smiles whereas his wife was all bitter attitude and boring personality. she could never be on the same level as you, it made dream laugh to think that she thought any part of him could still want her after having you, after filling your sweet pussy with his seed over and over again and claiming every inch of you as his.

admittedly at first dream was mostly attracted to your gorgeous body, to your infectious smile and innocent eyes but over time he found himself obsessed with you, with the way you rambled on one minute and then the next you could barely look him in the eyes for more than two seconds. he knew he couldn’t live without you and he was more than willing to give up everything to live his life right by your side.

no, he could never belong to her again because now he was completely and utterly yours.

A/N- hi!! this took so long to write for no reason lmao i’ll probably edit this some more later but i just wanted to get this out, sorry if there’s any mistakes <3

#mcyt smut #dreamwastaken smut #dreamwastaken x reader #mcyt x reader #smut #dsmp smut #dream smut #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader smut #dream team smut #mcyt x reader smut #dreamwastaken x you #dwt x reader #dream smp smut #dream smp x reader

5K notes · View notes

stylesharlow · 2 years

Text

you look good though

inspired by ig lives that jack has done, y/n is a celebrity in this :)

ps i'm not 100% sure how ig lives work so i'm sorry if the way i describe things working is wrong lmao

jack and (Y/N) have been friends since the beginning of quarantine, she was a massive fan of his and once he finally followed her back on instagram she knew she had to introduce herself through dms. they ended up hitting it off and talking all the time.

when jack was bored and wanted to talk to his fans he often did instagram livestreams, sometimes with his friends to offer a different dynamic.

once they grew closer, jack mentioned to her over text that he would be going live that night and that she should join. his messages towards her were always slightly cheeky, (Y/N) didn't think anything of it. the consensus surrounding her new friend was that he "belonged to the streets" so she tried not to let it go to her head.

jack: since i know you can't get enough of me, imma be on live tonight ;)

(Y/N): oh i'll be the first one watching

jack: why watch when you can join?

and since that offer she has been patiently (anxiously) awaiting the notification that he was live, she had to time it right, to not seem like she was that excited to see him.

she knows her platonic feelings have grown into those of a crush, but seriously who could blame her, especially when he teased her the way he always did.

awhile later she finally saw his profile picture bubble change colors, she gave it a few minutes and then clicked on it, jack's handsome face filling her phone screen. he talked with his fans for a bit and teased that he might have "a special guest" joining him for the evening, after that (Y/N) pressed the request to join button and waited to see if he noticed.

it didn't take long, "oh shit (Y/N)'s here, let's get her in here."

she hurriedly did a once over of her appearance, not understanding the nerves. a second later her face joined his on the screen and they both smiled widely at one another.

"hey beautiful." jack said immediately with a huge grin, enjoying her flustered reaction.

the chat was freaking out, the numbers of the live had shot up once fans of hers were notified that she was online. people kept asking if this was their announcement of being a couple, if only.

she rolled her eyes playfully, "hi jack." his smiles and laughter were contagious it was hard to keep up the mock annoyance.

"i know you been waitin' all day for me to do this, but other than that whatchu been up to?" he smiled again and added an adorable chuckle. she stifled another laugh, that's exactly what she had been doing all afternoon.

"me being here is purely out of boredom, it's you who was waiting for me." they shared another laugh, this was the banter they both usually had over text, but with an audience it egged them on even more to tease the other.

randomly in a moment of silence she complimented his clear yellow glasses that he was wearing in his dimly lit room.

"i like your glasses, they look good." everything looked good on him, but she chose her current favorite thing.

he focused his gaze intently towards the camera and flashed his famous smile, "you look good though."

(Y/N)'s heart raced and she internally thanked herself for doing that once over that previously seemed pointless.

"you do too much, i gotta go, goodnight jack." she hoped he couldn't hear her voice shaking, this moment would be in every compilation video.

"going so soon? aight, night, (Y/N)...love you." he winked once as he bid her a goodnight and she left the livestream without saying anything back. "love you"?! her heart felt like it was in her throat.

no more than a moment after she disconnected jack was leaning away from the camera covering his smiling face with his hands.

"y'all i can't lie, i been crushing on her for months. man...(Y/N)...with her fine ass." he leaned his head on one hand and nonchalantly scrolled through the chat with a smile.

"damn...i feel good right now, shit."

(Y/N)'s body felt electrified, he must have known she would hear that, she panicked and left his live entirely, pacing around her room with the stupidest grin plastered on her face, just replaying in her head what he said about her.

feeling confident, she grabbed her phone again and texted jack, needing to know if he was just playing with her and his audience.

(Y/N): so you've had a crush for months huh?

i know my plan was not to do full fics, but i'm feeling at least a part two for this, it was fun writing this one. hope you enjoyed xx ♡

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow imagine #writing

940 notes · View notes

idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

His Lovely Girl.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Requested: nope

Warnings: insecurity

Summary: Sebastian spoils her all the time. What has she ever done for him? When someone leaves a rude comment under her Instagram post, she can't help but rethink her entire relationship with the handsome actor.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! We're back to Marvel lol, enjoy!

---

"I'll see you later, dove, have fun!" Y/N grinned when her boyfriend leaned over, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Bye, Seb, I'll miss you," she whispered and he looked down at her, his heart swelling in his chest, full of appreciation for her. He loved her so much. "I'll miss you too, Y/N, but I'll only be gone for around 6 hours." Y/N pouted and he couldn't help it.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "I know. Go now, I don't want to be the reason you're late." He laughed heartily when she pushed him away with a smile. "Oh, doll, everyone knows about us, they'll know anyway." With that, he waved at her and left the apartment they shared. Y/N had moved in with him 2 years into dating.

Sebastian Stan; let's just say, he was a busy man. Y/N sighed and got up from the bed, feeling hungry. They had started dating 4 years ago, and what years those were; the most blissful ones in both their lives. They loved each other to death, and they knew that. Y/N waddled into the kitchen and looked around the various cabinets, finding a box of Mac and Cheese.

It was a funny story, actually, how they met. Y/N, at the time, was working as a barista at Starbucks. One day, Sebastian had walked into the Starbucks where she worked, and she was the one who took his order. He was extremely polite, funny and a bit awkward and just like that, she fell in love with him all over again. Y/N was a Marvel geek and Sebastian had noticed.

"I really like your hoodie, doll, where'd you get it?" he had asked her after telling her his order. And she had looked down, seeing the custom-made hoodie she wore. It was black in colour, but one of the sleeves was silver and had a red star on the bicep, just like his arm from the movie Captain America: Winter Soldier.

Bucky's trigger words were printed on the front of the hoodie. She had blushed furiously, simultaneously cursing and thanking her fate and coincidence. "I had it custom made," she had told him at the time and he had grinned so wide he thought his mouth would tear open. That was the moment where he, too, realized that he was getting a crush on the pretty barista.

And he hadn't hesitated to ask her for her number. He had taken a tissue paper, scribbled his number down and had written what's yours? ;) underneath. When he went to pay for his coffee, he purposely made sure that he wasn't giving her any change. With his notes, he slid her the tissue and she took it, giving him a confused look.

When she read it, her breath hitched. While pulling out his change, she had discreetly written her number down on the tissue, saved his on her phone and had given the tissue back to him with the coins. Both of them had grinned widely at each other when he left. While walking home, he had taken out the tissue and had seen her number written neatly under his. And his heart raced, Y/N is worth it.

---

*@yn_yln posted a photo*

4,583 likes

yn_yln Mac and Cheese, anyone? :D

Y/N smiled and logged out of her Instagram account after posting the photo. She just couldn't resist; she looked good that day, one of those days where she felt confident enough to post a picture. She kept her phone away and sauntered into the sitting room to watch something on the television. An hour passed before she yawned, feeling tired.

2:05 pm, her watch displayed. Well, there's no harm in an afternoon nap, am I right? Sebastian wasn't home anyway, and it's not like she had anything to do. Grabbing her phone off the dining table, she walked into hers and Sebastian's shared bedroom, plopping down on the bed. She decided to check her Instagram before falling asleep and opened the said app.

She went through the page that displayed all the likes and comments, pausing at one comment. Her heart dropped as she clicked on the comment, her entire being filling with an uneasy feeling. You're only dating him for the money, admit it. Until then, she had never even thought… about that. Throwing her phone to the side she sat up, breathing heavily.

Y/N was currently jobless. After they started going out, she continued working at Starbucks until last year; Sebastian had suggested that she leave the job and work somewhere better, earn a higher salary. Y/N had discarded the idea at first, since the job paid enough for her to go about her daily things and where would she even find another job?

Starbucks was okay. But Sebastian wouldn't hear it. So she left the job, now jobless. She had applied to a few places but hadn't received any news as of yet. They're right. I'm living off of him. I don't even have a job. What does it look like? A broke woman dating a rich, handsome guy? Oh my God, am I leeching off his hard work? All those thoughts rushed through her head in a span of a few seconds.

The more she thought about it, the more she teared up. Blinking the tears away, she lay back down and curled up under the comfortable blankets. His blankets. She closed her eyes, trying her hardest to fall asleep but the tears were proving it to be difficult. Fortunately, she drifted off into an uneasy slumber 15 minutes later.

---

"Baby, I'm home!"

Silence. Sebastian frowned, carefully walking into the house. "Y/N?" he called out but there was no answer. Keeping the bag he was holding away, he walked further into the apartment, stopping at the doorway of their bedroom. "Aw," he whispered under his breath, smiling, stepping into the bedroom. He gently sat next to his sleeping girlfriend.

His knuckles traced her cheeks but he froze. Why is she so cold? His soft touch was enough to wake her up, because she stirred and blinked up at him. "Seb, hi, welcome back." Her voice was hoarse. "Y/N? Did you fall sick?" he asked worriedly as she sat up, distancing herself from him. "I'm not sick," she muttered but Sebastian wouldn't buy it.

He reached out to cup her cheek, feeling like he had been stabbed multiple times when she leaned away from his touch. "Y/N?" She shook her head and looked out of the window, bringing her knees to her chest. "Just wanna be alone right now." She didn't want to send him away. She wanted to sit in his lap, listen to him rambling about his day…

But she also didn't want to be near him. Do I even deserve him? "What happened?" he insisted, his eyes going wide when she glared at him. "Go. Away." He scrambled off the bed without another word, softly closing the door behind him as he walked into the sitting room, running a hand through his hair. He sat down on the couch and looked around.

What happened in those 6 hours that he was away? Sebastian knew she wasn't on her cycle, it still had another week to come. So it wasn't mood swings. His eyes landed on the empty bowl of Mac and Cheese sitting on the dining table but they skimmed right past it, not knowing that that bowl was the reason for Y/N's sadness. Then he stared at the designer handbag on the opposite couch.

Picking up the bag, he strode back to their room, knocking on the door. Maybe seeing a pretty purse would lighten her mood? "What?" Y/N called out from inside and he opened the door, holding the purse up. "I brought you a gift." Y/N's heart started thudding in her chest and tears glistened in her eyes anew as she stared at the bag with utmost resentment.

"I don't want it."

Sebastian went rigid. She never rejects my gifts. "Y/N—" She started shaking her head. "No. Return it. I'm not taking it. I don't want it," she repeated, her glare now directed at him. "But doll…" he tried, freezing when her jaw clenched. "Get out." Disheartened, he walked out once more, more confused than anything. Now I have to know what happened.

Inside the room, Y/N sobbed silently. The bag was so pretty, her favorite color, the sleek design… she wanted to keep it so bad, but she knew she wasn't worthy of it. Sebastian brought her gifts all the time. Most of them expensive as shit; he had the money to blow off. What had she done for him? Nothing, really. He spoiled her heartily, never once allowing her to do the same.

"You're mine, baby girl, mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to spoil."

She was definitely leeching off him. Outside the room, Sebastian took out his phone and texted Y/F/N, who was Y/N's closest friend. They rarely spoke, but Y/N told Y/F/N everything and he knew she'd have answers.

hey, do you know what's up with y/n

why what happened

she's in a really bad mood

she's angry at me and I brought her a gift but she won't take it

she usually loves them but today…

OH WAIT

I know what happened

she texted me in the afternoon

something about a comment on Instagram or something

ig that's why she's in a bad mood

thanks

I'll check it out

He ended the conversation and opened Instagram, seeing a new post from his dear girlfriend. Sebastian couldn't help but smile as he liked the photo, commenting a heart emoji. There were only around 22 comments on the post, so he decided to go through them. Which comment had triggered her? He found it instantly and his nostrils flared.

Replying to the fairly rude comment, he typed, how about you fuck off and mind your own damn business? If you don't like her, unfollow and leave. There's literally nothing else you need to do. After hitting send, he kept his phone away and, determination shining in his eyes, ran back to the bedroom.

He threw open the door and a sob escaped the lips of the startled woman. He started taking off the annoying clothes he was wearing until he was just in his boxers, sliding into the bed next to her. She attempted to push him away but the strong man didn't budge, holding her on his lap as she thrashed. Soon, she gave up the fight and melted against him, crying her eyes out.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again and again, her breath hitching. "Hush, baby, it's okay, I'm not mad," he whispered, rubbing her back, helping her calm down. She rested her head on his shoulder, her arms tight around him. "Tell me the truth. What happened?" he asked even though he knew the answer. Tiredly, Y/N narrated everything; from the comment to all her insecurities.

Sebastian gently cupped her cheeks, wiping her tears off. "Y/N, you're mine. I love taking care of you, I love spoiling you, and I don't do it because I expect something in return, I do it because I love you. Don't listen to strangers on the internet, what better work do they have? Nothing but lowlifes. You don't have to do anything for me. I don't want you to do anything for me."

"But Seb…"

"No. No, you're my girlfriend and only the best for my girl. I love all the gifts you get me. I cherish them wholeheartedly. Just you being my girl is a gift better than anything else in the world, to be honest. But I'm going to continue looking after you whether you like it or not. You don't even have to go to work, I'm here for you. I love you." Y/N teared up again.

They were happy tears.

"I love you so much," she cried weakly and Sebastian pulled her to him, cradling her head, breathing her in. "I love you too, doll. Now will you take my gift, please?" She nodded against him and he gently lowered her on the bed, going outside to get the bag. Once back in their room he handed the bag to her, smiling at the way her eager hands reached up to accept the gift.

As he watched her admiring the bag, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, till death do them part.

His girl, his lovely girl.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

849 notes · View notes

bitchassbucky · 3 years

Text

Ｍｅ/Ｙｏｕ

📎Word Count: 1.9k

📎Warning/s: smut! MINORS DNI. toxic relationship dynamics <3 facefucking, sloppy blowjob, facial (not the skincare one), spitting in mouth, biting?, name calling, cheating/affair (bucky cheats), mean!bucky ig, toxic & manipulative!reader (she coerces bucky into cheating... so), alcohol mention, very very very brief sam x reader was mentioned

📎A/N: this was supposed to be a quick drabble but the fic practically wrote itself sooooooo @babyboibucky @sarge-barnes-sir @borikenlove this one’s for my hoes 💛✨

📎reblogs & comments are always welcomed!

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

The stage lit up as the band finished with a flourish. A roar of cheers and applause vibrates through the entire room, breaking the sweaty and the smoky atmosphere of the bar.

Patrons milled around with their drinks in hand. Drunk people leaning over walls and stools, waiting for their friends to come find them.

Your black-rimmed eyes scanned the room for a viable option. You slowly gaze upon the sea of bar-goers, picking out the best of the bunch.

The girl in a pleated skirt? Still giggling with her friends.

What about the man who’s been eye-fucking you since you got here? Too desperate.

There’s someone leaning over at the edge of the room, but they’re too tall for your liking.

You finished your drink with a sharp gulp, already walking towards the bar for a refill when someone caught your eye.

He looked like a sore thumb sticking out of the crowd. His hair was cropped short, a bit frazzled. A fair shade of stubble showered his sharp jaw, lining over his pink lips.

A smirk played on your painted lips, signaling the bartender for two drinks.

“Hey Sam,” you practically purred. A handsome man tending the bar leans closer to you, bringing forth a couple of shot glasses.

“It’s on the house,” Sam said, sliding a neat square of napkins over your side before placing the drink.

You tilt your head that way and smiled in lieu of thanking. A clink—half a second later, you put the empty glass facing downwards.

“Who’s the new guy?” A genuine question. The subject of the conversation sits patiently behind you, checking his phone periodically.

“A friend,” Sam carefully approaches your question, “he’s dating another friend of mine.” Sam already knows what your game is and how... unstoppable you are, for the lack of a better word.

“Well, that didn’t stop us before, did it?”

Looking over your shoulder, you meet his gaze, beckoning him to join you and Sam by the bar.

“Hey man, what can I get ‘ya?” Sam asked his friend, laying another napkin on his end.

“Just a beer, thanks.” He’s short with words. His steely eyes darting everywhere but you.

“What’s your name?” Now you’re scooting closer, even playing up a stumble when the man behind you roared a boisterous laughter.

He then looks at you, finally, albeit hesitant, “I’m Bucky—are you okay?”

You let a small giggle out, playing coy, “Yes, Bucky, I’m okay.” You stick your hand out, a couple of silver and tungsten rings adorning your fingers.

“Nice to meet you...” Bucky prompted, his large hand engulfing yours.

“Sam’s...friend.”

“Right,” he said, letting go of your hand after a firm shake, “‘m just waiting for my girlfriend.”

Sam already moved away from your area, serving a group of girls by the far end of the bar.

“He always does that,” you pointed out. A shared tidbit of mutual interest. Bucky was close enough to get a whiff of his musky cologne. A sliver of necklace hiding beneath his black shirt.

“Yeah, that’s how I actually met him.” It was unprovoked, what he said, but you kept the conversation going.

“You were with a group of drunk girls?” Your quip made him look at you with a playfully defeated smirk, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. An act that made your thighs clench from under you.

“No, no. Well—he thought that I was some girl’s boyfriend and he gave me a free drink to ‘apologize.’”

You bring up your best laugh, flicking your hair off your shoulder. Exposing your jewelry-adorned neck to him. He gazed down to your chest before clearing his throat.

He was nervous, you—hell, anyone—could tell. His hands were stuffed in his pants, he fidgets by shifting his weight back and forth on his left foot.

“Are you okay?” You looked up at him through your lashes, you were already a mere half a-foot away from him.

Bucky ran his hand through his hair impatiently, checking his phone again. Still no texts. “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine. My girlfriend’s just taking too long.”

You shot Sam a look before putting your hand on Bucky’s chest, “I know a place where you could wait. It’s quieter in there, you could call her.” Your tone was hopeful—a mutual acquaintance helping out a friend.

Before he knows it, Bucky’s hand was in yours as you guide him through the crowd and into a dimly lit hallway.

The wall was decorated with posters and stickers; pictures of patrons and banned people too.

“In here.” You opened a door, flicking a light switch before fully opening the way to let Bucky through. “This is a rehearsal room, the walls are lined with foam so any noise is filtered—can’t really go in and out.”

The old couch on the back was surprisingly clean and comfy, Bucky settled there as you rummaged around the mini-fridge for another drink.

“Beer?” That wasn’t really a question as you pass him a cold can, sitting down beside him.

He huffed, deft fingers dancing over the screen as he composed a longer text, “she always does this. It’s fucking annoying.”

Like the good friend you are, you scooted over to him, laying a soft hand over his shoulder for comfort.

“Hey, it’s fine. She’s just probably held up right now,” you cooed, a sweet little thing. You take a sip of a drink as he does so.

You give his broad shoulder a brief squeeze and made a face, “you’re really tense, man.”

Comically, he relaxes, letting out a breathless chuckle that sent your core fluttering. “‘m sorry. It’s just—this is our first night out in a long while.”

You hum inquisitively, propping up an arm on the backrest, “have you guys been together long?”

A beat passes before you backtracked.

“Sorry, I haven’t been in a long relationship...” You trailed off, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your pierced ear. You tentatively took another gulp of your drink, your cheeks heating up.

“No, it’s okay. We’ve been together for like, maybe three years, or so?” Bucky looks at you. God, it’s like he’s trying to read you before curating his answers. “Been a long time too.”

“Anything adventurous happening?” You teased him, Bucky’s visibly more relaxed now.

“No, nothing adventurous.” He confessed - an unknown reaction washes over his face as he says it.

“I may or may not know a thing or two on how to make your relationship more exciting.”

“Really? Is that so?” Bucky’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, sending shivers down your spine. He leans over then, getting closer to your face until his face is merely inches away from you.

“Bucky,” you breathe out. Your hands flat against his chest.

He blinks—once, twice.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry—shit, I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t be here. I’m gonna go—“ His whole demeanor changed. Bucky stands up, straightening his pants and shirt before looking down at you, still seated on the couch.

He was just three steps away from the door when you slot yourself between him and his way, “where do you think you’re going?”

“Outside. Outside, I’m gonna wait for my girlfriend outside.” He’s rambling, his ears are going red. A thin sheet of sweat glistening over his forehead.

Closing the gap between you and him, you lay a hand against his chest, over his heart. “Do I make you nervous?”

Bucky stammers out a broken ‘no.’

“No? Why’s your heart beating so fast, then?”

You reached up to his nape, pushing him down to your height to kiss him hard. He didn’t push you away yet, his hands are gripping your arms for purchase. His fingers digging in the flesh of your shoulders. It’s sure to be bruised come morning.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed out as you pull away. His lips shining and swollen, “what did you do?”

“Something thrilling, really.”

Bucky didn’t know how you got on your knees, tugging his black jeans down along with his boxer briefs in a desperate manner.

“God, I knew you were packing.”

His cheeks heat up even more as you palm him, his length hot and heavy against your hand. You lean in and nipped his thigh, your sharp teeth digging into his skin.

Bucky couldn’t help himself but to hiss and slap you across the face, “don’t fucking bite me.”

He expected you to look up at him with tears in your eyes, what he wasn’t expecting is you looking up with mischief and joy glinting in your eyes as you bite him again—harder this time, “God, fuck—you slut!”

Bucky saw red and grabbed you roughly by your jaw, squeezing your mouth open, “you want me so fuckin’ bad, you’re marking me, aren’t you, huh? Such a fucking slut, look at you.”

He squeezes harder, prying your mouth open as he missed your mouth with his spit, “open your mouth—fucking open!”

You obliged, your knees scraping raw as you kneel before Bucky. You feel his spit drip down your chin, the first time he missed. The second one slid down your tongue, prompting him to forcefully tap your cheek close as you swallow.

His angry cock stood dripping with precum; prominent veins making themselves known. You scoot closer, licking his balls up to the crown of his head which earns you a grunt.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Bucky orders. He wastes no time in bunching your hair up in his fist, slapping your swollen lips and cheek with his cock. “This better than your gloss, yeah? Hmm, yeah, ‘course it is.”

Bucky squeezes your mouth again, pushing his thick cock past your lips, your warmth engulfing all of him at once. “No reflex? My god, you’ve been here before, haven’t ‘ya?”

His presumptions were proven wrong when he started to pump in and out of your mouth. You gagged and choked, your throat constricting around his head every time he hits the back. “In and out through the nose, hmm? Yeah, c’mon. You can do it, bitch.”

Once you got past your reflex and relaxing your throat, Bucky took advantage and sped up. His balls slapping your chin when he thrusts in. The neckline of your shirt wet with spit and drool as he continues to fuck your mouth like he owns it.

You hum as you feel Bucky’s cock throb in your mouth.

“Yeah, yeah—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Another set of rough thrusts, Bucky pulls out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. He strokes his girth with his hand, with you licking the angry crown of his length. Ropes of cum spurt out, painting a good portion of your face milky white. You managed to swallow it, catching some in your abused mouth.

He stands tall above you, catching his breath as he tucks himself into his pants once more. “The fuck did I just do?”

“Something adventurous.” You smirk, standing up on your own, wiping your face with the inside of your shirt.

Bucky pats down his pocket for his phone, landing his gaze on the couch to look for it. He saunters over, looking for any texts from his girlfriend.

“You know, I’m doubting you even have a girlfriend,” You let out a sharp quip as you smooth your hair down, drinking the rest of your beer.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bucky retorts, stuffing his phone down his back pocket. Before strutting over a desk and scribbling something.

“What? You came on my face and I can’t say shit?”

He tosses you a piece of paper, catching it on your hand. Bucky gives you a reluctant look before turning the doorknob, leaving you alone in the room.

You unfold the paper then, ‘call me when you’re feeling adventurous’ it says, along with his phone number.

#bitchassbucky writes #works: one shots #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader fluff

396 notes · View notes

ramp-it-up · 3 years

Note

Request:

Y/N is for one year in America and try to learn the language More (she is from Germany ).

Chris saw her at target and realized that she was kind of lost and was loved to help her 👀

Okayyyy Nonnie! How's this for a challenge?

At first I didn't know how I was going to get there from here, but I cruised IG for some German inspiration. As a result, instead of Y/N, reader is named Maëlle. I also struggled with the knowledge that most Germans know more English than Americans know of any other language, but this is all in fun. 😛

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (Maëlle)

Word Count: Around 2K

Warnings: 18+, RPF, MINORS DNI, CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE, not proofread, Google Translate for the German, verry limited American knowledge of Germans and German culture, not full on Smut, but smutty thots, thoughts of oral sex, fingering, degradation kink, allusions to Dom! behavior, disregarding of stranger danger, the Red Sox, and an age gap.

Maëlle

**********************************

One of your goals when you got settled was to go to Target, Ziel when you arrived in Boston for your graduate exchange year at Boston University.

You understood a great deal of English and could speak many phrases, but you’d hoped your year in America would make you fluent.

You were proud that you were able to get from the BU Student Union to the store. You surprised yourself with the ease that you used your phone to help you translate for what you needed.

Now, you were standing in front of the doors, almost in tears, trying to find where your Uber was to pick you up.

You didn’t pay attention to which way you entered and you needed to find VanNess street. It was about to leave. You suddenly felt helpless, hilflos.

—-

Chris needed to pick up some sunscreen before the game, he couldn't afford a burn right before filming. Even though he had his Red Sox cap on, he still needed some high grade sunblock.

He hurried through the doors of the Target near Fenway Park, head down, trying not to get recognized.

He passed by some beautiful long bronze legs and followed them up a smoking hot body clothed in a scarlet Boston University t-shirt tied up tight and short blue jean skirt.

Your face was framed by waist length blonde braids and your eyes were the most beautiful he’d ever seen.

Your lips deserved ten minutes all on their own, but he kept it moving, not wanting to seem creepy.

You were gorgeous, although you looked flustered. Chris didn’t slow his roll, because you were probably waiting on someone.

When he came back through, five minutes later, he heard your voice and slowed down. He was surprised, but shouldn’t have been. There were black people all over the world.

Even in Germany.

“Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die Van Ness Street ist? Can you tell me? Where is Van Ness Street?”

Your accent was heavy, but passersby just assumed you were crazy or joking with them and ignored you.

Chris was ashamed. That wasn’t what he wanted Boston to be. Even though he was close to being late for the first pitch, he stopped for you. He summoned some German from filming in Europe.

“Kann ich Ihnen helfen?” It was one thing he knew how to say with perfect inflection.

You perked up and smiled at him. “Ach bist du Deutscher? You’re German?”

You looked into the face of the handsome stranger. His eyes. Verdammt!

Chris melted a little bit. When you smiled, you were even more beautiful. Chris smiled back at you, smitten. He laughed.

“No. Italian.”

You understood, but you were confused. Why was this handsome American saying he was Italian and speaking to you in German? And why was he so familiar?

“Oh, Ich entschuldige mich. Sorry.” You smiled again, and Chris forgot all about the game. He wanted to try to talk to you for hours.

“No worries, he said. “Bitte?”

This handsome man’s German was indeed poor. He’d fooled you. He was a good actor. Something pinged in the back of your mind, but you overlooked it. Somehow, he’d made you feel better.

“Ich habe meinen Uber vermisst. Uber, gone!” You made a motion with your hand. “Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die VanNess Street ist?”

“Ohhhh! VanNess is this way,” he pointed toward the other side of the store, and he started leading you through.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you followed him.

You neared the electronics department and there was a giant movie display with dvds. The man saw it, pulled up, stopped, grabbed your hand and quickly led you back the other way.

You were confused.

“Come to think of it, I’ll give you a ride, my car is back out this way. Druben?”

Chris was not going to ruin his afternoon and a chance to talk to you by getting caught signing autographs in Target. He loved his fans, but he already liked you.

You followed him back out of the sliding doors to the parking lot and a blank Range Rover. You just went along with him, your hand feeling at home in his.

Then the panic set in.

You didn’t know this man from Adam.

Your mother had warned you about getting kidnapped by an American serial killer. This was it. You hated it when she was right.

“Wait!”

You said it perfectly, and the man caught your anxiety.

Chris stopped as he tried to open the door for you. He looked into your worried eyes. Shit, he’d gotten carried away. He looked down to where your hands were still locked.

He couldn’t help but smile at them. You smiled, too. Then he looked at you, blue eyes looking like the sea. You smiled back, somehow knowing that you were safe. You leaned back on the car.

“I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Christopher, what is yours?”

“Maëlle.”

Your smile was brightening his entire life. He was into you.

“That’s beautiful. Das ist schön?”

You smiled wider at his compliment. Then you bit your lip. Chris' knees got weak and he took a step closer to you to regain balance.

You were in each other’s space, Chris looking down at you and you at him. You were both getting warm even though it was a cool September day.

Chris pulled your hand instinctively, and you were even closer, your fingers entwined in his close to his thigh, which you could sense flexing through his jeans.

You were staring at his lips and he was doing the same as the butterflies flew around your stomach.

Were you really considering kissing someone you’d just met in Target? What would your mother think?

That thought made you smirk.

“What are you thinking?”

He was leaning over you, his voice in a lower register now. His breath tickled your ear and made you moan slightly.

Chris wanted to know what was going on in that mind of yours, if you were as crazy as he was feeling this kind of connection so fast.

You understood exactly what he was saying, but you just cocked your head and smiled as if you didn’t. You didn’t want him to think that you were thinking of his hands all over you, in your most intimate places.

Chris took a deep breath, trying to clear his head and regain blood flow to his brain. His cock was hard being this close to you and he had to regain composure.

He wasn’t that reckless kid he used to be, but man he wanted to do some depraved things to you. Like drag his tongue up your…

He had to stop. Chris took a step back.

You watched as his tongue peeled out to lick his bottom perfect pink lip. It was strange, but you felt like you knew him. And you wanted him to know you. Intimately.

And now those perfect lips were moving, but you weren’t paying close enough attention to translate what he was saying.

“Can I give you a lift to campus?”

You cocked your head in that pretty way again. He wondered what it would be like to feel your lips. On his lips. On his tattoos, around his…

Chris cleared his throat and tried to think of the words.

“Kann ich mitnehmen?”

He was so cute. You smiled brighter and nodded, “Yes, Christopher.”

Then you gestured to your bra-less breasts in your thin t-shirt. Chris could tell your nipples were hard. He licked his lips and looked around. This was a development.

Then he got your message. He shook his head, chuckling that his thoughts were in the gutter.

“Ooooooh! Boston University! You’re on campus. Yeah, that’s right near here. I’ll take you.”

“Danke. Thanks you, Christopher.”

Your smile would be the end of him. He had to think of a creative way to get your number.

“Hey! Let’s take a picture!” He had his phone out.

You were confused, but maybe this is what Americans did to get to know each other. Take pictures with strangers.

He took a couple of pics and then opened the door for you.

You brushed past him to get in, and Chris allowed his eyes to take in your form, especially your shapely legs.

You noticed him checking you out, and immediately got goosebumps, your nipples hardening again. Your panties were a little moist.

“Let’s just get you… “

Chris reached across you for the seatbelt with his right hand, face coming near yours as he leaned into the car.

“Buckled in…”

Now you were sure your panties were soaked.

Chris allowed his mind to go places, like your pussy, which he was sure was sweet, wet, hot and…

“….Tight.”

Chris gulped, trying not to drool all over you, although he would love to spit in your mouth and make you swallow as he fucked you raw.

“Danke.”

You whispered behind a breathy moan. You wanted not only to ride in this man’s car. You wanted to ride this man in his car.

Your eyes flickered down to his jeans and that’s when Chris realized that he had a raging hard on. He quickly put his hand in his pocket, trying to play it off, flashed a smile and closed the door quickly.

You giggled at how huge what you thought you saw was. You fanned yourself while you waited for him to get in trying to remember your decorum.

Chris stood outside the back of the car for a minute, trying to catch his breath and think. He had to be at least 15 year older than you, he just met you, and you didn’t speak English. None of this made sense.

He was going to drop you off at campus and try to be at the game for the second inning. And act his age.

Christopher got back in the car, much more formal, and started driving.

He looked over to see your legs open and started to wonder how easy it would be to reach over and under your skirt, pull your panties to the side, if you were wearing any, and…

Chris cleared his throat and focused on the road.

You could tell the air had changed. He was different. You wondered what happened.

You looked at his profile and decided that he was turned off by you being so forward. You decided to straighten up, so you did so, literally and figuratively.

You sat up straight and crossed your legs, like prim and proper young ladies do.

The curve of your spine and the crossing of your legs made Chris irrationally angry. It was like you were closing yourself off to him. Then he remembered.

You didn’t know each other.

You pointed out where to go as you neared your apartment. Chris pulled up in front of your unit and you both started talking.

“Danke, Christopher.”

“Hey, Maëlle…”

You both chuckled. Chris continued.

“Let me send you that photo. What’s your number?” He was fiddling with his phone. Then handed it to you. “Type it in for me.”

You grinned wide and his sly smile answered you. Now you understood. You entered your number and handed it back to him, your fingers sparking as you touched.

You were breathless.

“Well…”

“Christopher…”

You two interrupted each other again.

This time you continued.

“Thank you.”

You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Chris closed his eyes. Your lips felt as soft as he imagined. He wanted to do the whole turn his head trick but he wasn’t 23 anymore. But you sure made him feel like it.

He did turn to look at you as you got out of the car and waved after you closed it. You swung your bag in one hand as you walked toward the building, also swinging your hips, watching him as he drove away.

Chris watched you too, as far as he could in the rearview. When you disappeared from sight, he said, “Fuck it,” did a uturn and peeled rubber back to your apartments. He rolled down the window.

“Maëlle! Maëlle!” You stopped just before you reached your door. Chris grinned at you. “You ever been to an American baseball game before?”

You skipped back down the walk happily, grinning back as you leaned in the open window. You cocked your head in that way.

“No, but I like playing wit the balls.”

Chris groaned. He couldn’t tell if you were talking about sports or something else. But he’d figure it out later. You climbed in the car, winked at him and crossed your legs.

Chris licked his lips as he drove back toward Fenway Park, thinking about how he would teach you about keeping your legs open that night.

——

Hope it’s okay Nonnie! ❤️

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @jbrizzywrites @stilltoyou @donutloverxo @wallowsgirl14 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld @justanormalfangirlsworld @lost-in-a-state-of-mind @london-grunge @pheebsyells @douxtille @thesecretlifeofdaydreams @ximaginex @jdmacca92 @fofisstilinski @dyapraxicwhore @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @aaronhotchiee @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain @mostannoyingbillioner @anacravalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @chaoticsteverogers @txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @assoftheamericana @ikatieebabyy @nerdymugsharkempath @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjean @maroonsunrise83

#Chris Evans #chris evans x female reader #Chris Evans x German reader #Chris Evans smut #chris evans x black reader #chris evans imagine #ask dj #chria evans x ofc reader

290 notes · View notes

viridwns · 3 years

Text

Can't help but fall in love with you.

Time: present

Paring: Chuuya x f!reader

Characters: Chuuya nakahara, Dazai osamu, Mori ōgai, Fukuzawa yukichi from BSD

Warnings: none ig.

Request from: @trixiegalaxy . I hope you are happy with this!

You were just looking for a job. A simple job.

You really went from being a secretary with mountains of paperwork your boss left you to being in the middle of a truce meeting.

"No illusions this time fukuzawa?"

"It's a truce meeting right? I don't see the use of using my members ability."

You really didn't want to be here. What were you even thinking! The job that you were offered after just moving into this city was to perfect to be true. You knew something was up, but you still accepted it anyway.

When you were asked to come to an important meeting by Dazai, you didn't think any of it. I mean maybe you had to take notes or something. So ofcourse being the good subordinate you were, you said yes.

Curse this handsome looking man. If only you had listened to your guts when he asked you to join him for a double suicide.

You tugged at Dazai's arm wanting to know why in the hell he brought you here. "What the actual fuck Dazai" you whispered at him a frown setteling upon your face. He looked at you with a grin and winked. Wanting nothing more to bash his head in a voice interrupted your thoughts.

"I can see you brought someone new. I've never seen her face here before."

You looked at the mafia boss. He was smiling at you.

Gulping down the lump in your throat you tried to look as brave as possible. Standing up straight with your chin up.

"She's our new secretary. Thought i'd bring her with us for some experience." You heard Dazai say.

Only Dazai, fukuzawa and you were here. On the other side you could see the mafia boss, a man with no eyebrows? And a short, but intimidating man with a fedora.

Yeah you didn't want to get caught up into this.

"I'm gonna quit the next opportunity i get" you muttered. Regretting not listening to your mother to stay in the little village and not moving to the city.

"Knowing you Dazai, she isn't just a secretary. Just tell us what her ability is."

Wait what?

"Hah?" You said without realizing.

First of all how did Dazai know about your ability. Second of all how could it be of any use here?

"Ah you caught me. She indeed has an ability. Up to you to figure it out."

Dazai said, his famous grin plastered on his face.

"Cut the crap mackerel. This is a truce meeting. Stop this shitty act and just tell us why she's here." The man with the fedora stept forward. His gloved hand pointing at you.

Honestly you don't even know anymore why you were here.

"Can we just set our agreement. My schedule is busy and the only way we can stop (bad guy name) is if we work together."

Your boss spoke up. Looking tired as usual.

"Sorry, but it seems like your hiding something from us. Are you going to attack us when we turn around hm?"

The mafia boss looked at him with an amusing smile.

"Stop this nonsense Mori. Just agree to the plan. You know it's the best thing to do."

"Fine. Tomorrow at midnight i'll send Chuuya and you'll send Dazai. Deal?"

"Deal."

----

Why the fuck.

wHY THE FUCKING FUCK WERE YOU HERE.

That chuuya guy and Dazai were supposed to be going on a mission together.

so why in the hell were you here waiting infront of a shed at 12 AM with Dazai at your side.

Simple answer: you fell for his tricks again.

"Isn't the sky pretty y/n."

"Say one more word and i'll make you regret using me for my ability."

An angry scowl was placed on your features as Dazai pouted.

"Ah come one y/n-kun don't be so mean."

You snapped your head to the right to face him.

"Oh i'm mean? You literally send me here to join you for a suicide mission. I'm only going to be dead weight anyway!"

He chuckled

"Oh don't worry, you're going to be a great help for this mission."

Giving him a confused look, you were about to say something when a voice interrupted you.

"And can i ask why she is here?"

You looked to the left to see Chuuya standing there with a hand on his hip.

"Why is everyone so irritated this night. Well i wouldn't expect less from Chuuya, but you are never irritated y/n."

"For everything there's a first time." You said with a sigh.

This was going to be a long night.

"Just shut up you mackerel. I'm not in the mood for your shit."

Chuuya walked closer to the two of you. He was intimidating as ever, but gosh did he have anger issues.

Dazai tried to open his mouth, but knowing him and his passion for annoying people you interrupted him.

"If we go left from here, we'll eventually see the base of the enemy. There's a way in from the left side of the building without being seen. It's our best shot to sneak in."

You finished looking at the two men.

You could see Chuuya staring at you with a certain look in his eyes.

"Is there something on my face?" You asked, your hands wiping your face.

It looked like you suprised him by the sudden startled look on his face.

"N-no Let's just go. The sooner we start, the faster we finish."

Chuuya walked past the two of you. Cursing something under his breath. You could swear you saw a light pink covering his cheeks.

----

"Where the fuck did that maniac go?!"

You sat on the ground covering your ears with your hands. Not wanting to listen to Chuuya's whines anymore.

It all happenend so fast. The three of you broke into the enemy's base and found a good hiding spot, but somehow the three of you got caught. Chuuya and you ran, thinking Dazai was right behind you two, but when you locked yourselves into a lab, he was gone.

Looking at the furious ginger you tried to calm him down.

"It's Dazai we're talking about. C'mon have some faith in your partner."

You smiled lightly, but it soon faded as you were met with an angry scowl.

"He was my partner. I can't even believe he brought you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

You didn't know either why he brought you, but he could be atleast a bit nicer about it.

"Well i'm sorry for being here, but thanks to me we could break into this place. Also can you just calm your tits. Your behavior isn't helping the situation."

You stood up to look him in his eyes. Your smile being replaced with a more serious look.

"I-." He tried to say something, but instead moved to the other side of the room.

"You're such a nausionce."

Knowing if you would pick a fight with him now nothing good would come out of it.

"I know, now let's find a way out."

Looking around the room, you could only find some medical suplies and some samples of God knows what.

Chuuya began helping you after sulking for a bit in the corner. He checked all the cabinets and only found food and more medical supplies.

"I found nothing, you?"

You asked the man while sitting down on the large dental like chair in the middle of the room.

"Nothing useful no."

Chuuya leaned at the wall infront of you.

"Going outside is also not an option. There are cameras outside the door. So they'll know our location immediately."

You let out a frustrated sigh. Massaging your temples.

"God i'm so stupid. I should've paid more attention to our location."

The man infront of you scoffed.

"Not going to disagree with you on the first thing, but you couldn't have known where we were and we were all in a state of panic. It makes you forget things."

Being a little shocked that he also could be nice, i mean he did call you stupid indirectly, but the words he said did make you feel better.

"Thanks Chuuya. That means allot to me." You said to him smiling.

"Yeah yeah whatever." The pink hue could be seen again on his cheeks as he looked away.

Giggling softly at his flustered state.

"What are you laughing at brat?!"

Ah there was the angry chihuahua again.

"Nothing, just you."

"You bi-."

Chuuya was cut off by voices on the other side of the door. You jumped of your chair looking at Chuuya with a panicked expression.

He motioned to the closet and you nodded your head. Quickly moving over to the closet, you and Chuuya squeezed yourselves in.

The space was cramped, but it was the only solution for now. Knowing that Chuuya's ability would make to much of a commotion.

Feeling Chuuya's warm breath on your lips, you now noticed how short he actually was. His head not coming above your nose. It was adorable really.

He also smelled like wine, but it wasn't smelly or something. It was quite a pleasant smell and not to mention very attractive.

Blushing at your thoughts you looked up.

'Omg why am i thinking this now. He's so attractive- NO Y/N FOCUSE.' you internally screamed.

"This door is locked kiri, maybe the intruders are in here."

A soft rattling noise was heard and the door knob moved a little.

"Damn i don't got the keys. Let me go get them."

You heart footsteps leave the door, but you knew someone else was waiting infront of it.

Suddenly you could feel a light bulb just pop above your head. You had a plan, but you didn't know if it would work.

"Shit what do we do." You could hear Chuuya mutter.

"I might have an idea." You whispered.

----

"Are you crazy?! You can't just do that y/n!" Chuuya whisper yelled.

You were putting on one of the labcoats hanging in the closet. Your other clothes were in Chuuya's hands.

You were wearing your hair loose with a skintight labcoat flaunting every curve of your body.

"It's the only plan right now. And with my ability it is almost guaranteed it will work." You whispered back. You hated this plan as much as he did, but it was your only chance. And you felt sexy as fuck right now.

"I got them!." You heard a man's voice say. Footsteps getting closer. "Took you long enough, now open the door."

"Jeez okay fine."

"There is no time Chuuya." You said closing the closet doors. You could see Chuuya trying to protest, but he gave up.

Scurrying over to one of the counters pretending you were organizing something the door opened.

You heart starting to beat faster and your hands shaking. 'Calm down y/n. You got this you sexy motherfucker'. Your breathing slowed a little and a voice was heard from the doorway.

"Hey you! Put your hands up!"

You looked up to see two men in trenchcoats with guns pointing at you.

"What's this commotion all about gentleman? I'm just trying to do my job here."

You raised your hands and slowly walked over to the men.

"Stay still! Tell me your name."

Stopping your movements you bit your lip.

"My name is..." should you tell them you're real name? Or just make one up.

"Go on woman, we don't have all night."

Slightly annoyed by his tone, you decided to use your own name.

"L/n, y/n l/n." You said

"Never heard of you. Have you?" The man turned to his colleague.

"No, take her in custody."

Panicking internally, you needed to come up with a lie right now! Your ability won't work unless the men touch you.

"I uhmm. I was waiting for one of the men. He hired me for some private time. If you know what i mean." You winked at the two men. Hoping they would buy your lie.

You could see them blushing slightly.

"Who hired you?"

"Dunno. We do these things anonymous."

You walked over to the chair and slowly crawled on it. Trying to nonegelantly show your ass.

"Hey i said don't move!"

The second man said. Coming closer to you.

"Okay, okay calm down." You sat down and put your hands infront of you.

"I'm just here, because he still got 30 minutes left. Rules from my boss. Can't go away till the time is up." You shrugged and flipped your hair. Leaning on your knee with the other hand.

You really had to stop yourself from cringing.

"Well i got to ask you to leave ma'am." The first guys said, putting his gun down and walking over to you.

"Fine, but if you get a call from my boss, don't blame me."

"Ofcourse. You are just doing you're job." The second guy said with a blush on his face.

'Ugh men.'

"You have to lead me the way tho. The other guy insisted on blind folding me." You seductively bite your lip and winked again.

"Of- ofcourse come with us please."

The second guy cleared his throat and offered his hand. Smiling you took his hand and hopped of the chair.

'Now the other guy.'

'Accidentally' stumbling you fell into the first dudes arms, causing him to catch you.

"Oh shit. Clumsy me. Can't even walk properly."

You gave out a short laugh and the guy brushed his jacket.

"It's okay. Now come o-."

Not being able to finish his sentence, he fell to the ground. His partner following him.

"Yeah that's right you two go to sleep. I'll find my way out from here."

Chuckling at your own humor you snatched their guns.

"Wait how-."

Chuuya stepped out of the closet a blush on his cheeks and a confused expression.

Standing up straight you walked over to him and picked up your clothes from his hands.

"It's my ability 'sweet dreams'. If i touch the person and whisper 'sweet dreams' in the next 5 minutes. The person or persons will fall into a coma. They'll wake up when i fall asleep or when i forget i put them to sleep. So i have to keep thinking about them."

You finished off with a smile. Putting your own shirt on again.

"I can see now why Dazai brought you." He said with a slight smirk on his face.

"It isn't all that fancy and i never really used it before."

"Why come you never joined the port mafia or hell even the ADA."

You sighed a little.

"Well it could be a useful ability, but i don't want to be a hero or villian or other shit. I'm happy as i am now."

Chuuya looks at you with a soft expression.

"That's a shame. Would've loved to see you in action more. Or hell even fight against you."

He looked away from you. His hand behind his head. You laughed a little.

"I would absolutely demolish your ass." You said, crossing your arms with a triumph look on your face.

"Hah you wish princess. You won't be able to even come near me!"

You blushed at the sudden nickname. Your hands falling to your side.

"W-we'll see." You cursed yourself for stuttering.

He walked passed you to the door. Whispering something in you ear.

"I wouldn't mind seeing you try to seduce me like the two men you seduced just now."

Your ears felt hot and you were sure you looked like a tomato right now. Chuuya walked out the door and you just stood there. Coming out of your shocked state you ran out the door to slap him. "Come here you asshole." You whisper yelled. Chuuya almost dying from laughter shushed you. "We don't want the enemy to find us now. Do we. Otherwise you have to put on that outfit again."

Smacking him on the back of his head. You couldn't wait to get this mission done.

----

"Ah what a night. Good thing you guys saved me back there. They were cruel!"

The brunette man was stretching his limbs.

It was 5 in the morning and Chuuya and you were finally able to take the boss out (well Chuuya did that part while you freed Dazai.)

"Oh shut up you damn piece of shit. Thanks to you it took us the whole night to finish this job and most of all you brought y/n in unnecessary danger."

"Hey it's okay. I'm fine. Luckily we all are. Let's just head home go to sleep and go back to enemies in the morning." You quickly said walking inbetween the two men.

Dazai yawned.

"Sounds like a great plan y/n! Altough i thought you were gonna quit the job."

You put your hands around Dazais arm.

"Nah can't do that after such an adventure now can i?"

You and Dazai chuckled while Chuuya just sighed.

"Get a room jeez." He said annoyed.

"Ah c'mon Chuuya. We make a great team! I can't wait for the next truce." You said rather excited for this hour.

Coming at the end of the forest you knew you had to say your goodbye's to the men.

"Well y/n i wish you a pleasant night and i'll see you at work again. Chuuya i hope you get hit by a car."

Dazai smiled and turned around to walk away.

You laughed and waved him goodbye.

"That fucker." Chuuya muttered holding up his middle finger.

"Ah come on Chuuya. He may not show it, but i know he sees you as a friend."

"Pff sure in your dreams."

Sighing you face palmed yourself.

"Well i guess this is it then. Goodnight Chuuya."

You knew it was wrong. He was your enemy and you had to put your feelings aside, but you couldn't stop yourself. You never had so much fun in your whole life and to be frank, you didn't want the night to end here yet.

You kissed him on the cheek and turned around.

"Thank you for this wonderful, but crazy ass night." You gave a sad smile. Although he couldn't see it.

Suddenly you felt someone grab you wrist. Spinning you around. You were met with a flustered Chuuya his eyes fixated on the ground.

Standing there in an awkward silence for a few seconds, he finally spoke up.

"Look. I worked with many people before, but i never had so much fun with someone. And-" he became quiet for a bit. Taking a deep breath he continued: " and i never felt like this before. You give me this warm feeling and i hate it, but i can't get enought of it. When i first saw you at the meeting i just knew you were different. So please let's not end this night just yet."

He tilted his head to look at you a serious expression on his face.

"Chuuya-."

Your voice was cut of when a pair of warm lips crashed your own. They were rough, but soft at the same time. Being a little stunned you forgot to kiss back. Chuuya pulled away again taking a step back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what came over me."

This time you shushed him and kissed him back. His arms finding a way on your hips and your arms grabbing his hair to deepen the kiss.

After a few seconds you both pulled away, out of breath. Your fourheads touching eachother and your noses brushing eachother.

"That was- wow."

You said with a small smile.

Chuuya chuckled lightly.

"I won't go easy on you now if we meet again y/n."

"Oh i'm counting on it."

You grinned. Wanting to make this night last longer. He pulled you in for a kiss again and you let him. Nothing making you happier as you are right now.

Little did you two forbidden lovers know that a brunette man was staring contently as his assumptions were right.

----

Sorry it took so long :,)

#chuuya x y/n #x y/n #bsd headcanons #bsd x reader #y/n #bsd chuuya #chuuya headcanons #chuuya fluff #chuuya nakahara x you #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #anime x reader #anime #chuuya x reader #×fics

193 notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Imagine:

Being John B's cousin and meeting the Pogues

Request: Yes or No

What I need from season 2 of Outer banks is Karah/Siara and JJPope/Mayward. John B can have an enemies to friends to lovers with Topper ig. The Pogues are the embodiment of chaotic bi lmao. If i remember correctly, JJ and JB have been friends since like elementary or middle school or something like that.

Pope parked the van, letting out a soft sigh. JJ turned towards him, resting his sunglasses on the top of his head.

"Pope, man, I love you but you drive like a grandpa." JJ told him, earning a playful eye roll from his friend.

"And you drive like a maniac." Pope replied, opening the door and hopping out. He grabbed the handle of the back door, sliding it open for the girls.

"Such a gentleman." Sarah cooed, giggling softly as she climbed out. Kiara followed, chuckling softly. Pope closed the door, making sure the doors were locked. As they approached The Chateau, noticing a young man around their age smoking outside. JJ frowned, holding his head high in case he meant trouble. Once they got closer, JJ blinked and relaced.

"(Y/N)! Bro! Why didn't you tell me you were here?!" JJ called, jogging towards him. (Y/N) chuckled, fistbumping him and shrugging lightly.

"My old man wanted me to keep an eye on Johnny and I had nothing better to do." (Y/N) explained, head tilting up as he blew out smoke.

"Uhm, who's this?" Kiara asked, arms crossing as she eyed the guy. He was handsome, that was for sure, but he screamed trouble and Kiara already had to keep JJ in line. Sarah was much more relaxed and interested than her, giving him a friendly smile.

"Remember John B's uncle who was supposed to be his guardian until Big John came back but then he dipped to like build houses? This is (Y/N), his son." JJ explained.

"Nice to meet you, man. I'm Pope Heyward." Pope smiled, shaking his hand. (Y/N) hummed, giving him a nod.

"The brains of the group, right? John B's always talking about his little group of friends." (Y/N) shifted his gaze onto the girls.

"I'm Sarah Cameron." Sarah stepped forward, shaking his head with a big smile. "And this is Kiara Carrera."

"Hey." Kiara greeted dryly, earning a small nudge from Pope. John B stepped out of the house, grinning widely. He greeted his friends, glancing at his cousin.

"I see you've all met (Y/N) the babysitter-"

"Babysitters get paid." (Y/N) said, dropping his cigarette on the floor and stepping on it. Kiara scoffed softly, shaking her head.

"Well, your payment is being in my presence." John B replied playfully. (Y/N) rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the wall and sighing. He took out his phone, looking over the instructions his father had left him.

"Don't get into trouble." (Y/N) said, looking up. John B chuckled, looking at his friends.

"I love Uncle Teddy sometimes." John B took the keys from Pope, looking at his cousin.

"You coming?"

"I'd rather not but the old man would have my head if he found out I let the kids run around unsupervised."

"You don't look much older than us." Pope said, brows furrowing slightly as he looked him over.

"I'm about to turn eighteen in a few weeks which means I'm the oldest one here. I'm only in charge of John B so as long as he survives until one of our incredibly responsible fathers return, I'll be fine." (Y/N) shrugged, reaching out and ruffling up John B's locks.

"You're an temporary Pogue now." JJ swung an arm around (Y/N)'s shoulders, pulling him towards the van. (Y/N) let JJ drag him along, entering the van and watching the others get in. JJ turned towards (Y/N), leaning in.

"The girls totally have the hots for you." He whispered, wiggling his brows. Before (Y/N) could reply, everyone had already settled in apart from Sarah. She gave a slight pout when she couldn't find an actual seat. She hummed lightly, plopping down on (Y/N)'s lap with a grin. JJ shot (Y/N) a subtle look, looking forward again. Pope glanced into the rearview mirror, having sat in the passenger seat beside John B.

"Welcome to your first Pogue adventure."

Gifs aren't mine.

233 notes · View notes

snackhobi · 4 years

Text

pairing: yoongi x reader // word count: 15.8k // genre: smut

summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn't involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there's an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), cursing, minor consumption of alcohol, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names, slight exhibitionism, slight praise kink, light dom/sub undertones if you squint ig (reader is kind of subby)

– –

Throughout the years of your life, you've learned a few things. Some of them are pretty obvious (buying suspiciously cheap sushi from a petrol station is like playing Russian Roulette with food poisoning and diarrhoea), some of them are less so (just because something is 'on sale' doesn't actually mean that it's cheaper if they'd increased the overall price beforehand), but one thing that you're only just starting to learn is that— for all that Jimin says otherwise— blind dates will always stand you up.

jiminnie is he there yet??

you to my entire lack of surprise, no. i'm starting to wonder if this 'hoseok-hyung' of yours even exists tbh i should have been suspicious from the second you called him a 'friend' bc that implies that you HAVE friends

jiminnie ok RUDE. we're friends??

you suddenly i can't read

The two of you had been outrageously drunk after a night out on the town, once, and Jungkook had come to collect his tipsy boyfriend, and you'd seen the fond way he'd watched Jimin despite his messy behaviour— how he'd given Jimin a piggyback even though it must have been hard with the way Jimin had been squirming and laughing and kicking his legs back and forth— and your heart had squeezed tight in your chest. (You'd been so drunk.)

It had honestly been a slip of the tongue when you'd revealed to Jimin that you were kind of maybe feeling somewhat lonely, a little bit, potentially. You'd had one night stands and short flings but it's been a long time since you've been in an actual relationship, a long time since you've really clicked with someone. Maybe part of you had been missing it, that connection with another person. Normally you're fine with being single, but Jungkook and Jimin are so in love that it spills out from them and you guess in the moment you'd wanted to feel that, too.

You blame the alcohol. You also blame your own loose lips. And Jimin, you blame him too, for persuading you to go clubbing in the first place. You don't even remember what you'd said, waking up with a headache the weight and size of a tectonic plate, groaning at the pain of the morning light stabbing into your eyes, but with no recollection of your admittance that maybe you were tired of being single. Your best friend, however— despite having drunk more than you— could recall the previous night with crystalline clarity, much to your horror and embarrassment. And, because Jimin is Jimin, he'd latched onto what you'd said with the tenacity of a dog with a bone.

Fast forward to where you're sitting now, on yet another arranged date that he's planned for you— and once again, you've been stood up.

you i'm starting to wonder if any of the people you've tried to set me up with are even real

jiminnie omg they ARE you had a nice time with lisa??

Okay, so you hadn't been stood up for every date. Lisa had been the only person who'd shown up, and she was cute and friendly and you got on like a house on fire, but you'd very quickly found out that she was actually head over heels for her best friend Jennie. You being you, your first date had rapidly turned into you giving your new friend a pep-talk and hyping her up— and suffice to say you've been having weekly girl's brunches with Lisa and her now-girlfriend Jennie ever since. So, yes, technically you haven't been stood up every time, but still.

you yes, my ideal first date involves telling the other person that their best friend is definitely in love with them too :))

jiminnie I'VE ALREADY SAID THAT I'M SORRY :(

you LMAO it's fine, it's always nice to make friends but seriously minnie, like,, if your friends are going to stand me up, could you at least have had the decency to organise the date somewhere less fancy? i spent ages getting ready and noah fence it kind of feels like i just wasted a bunch of my time,,

Jimin doesn't fuck around. From the outside the bar, Dionysus, exudes a quiet aura of exclusivity. Inside, however, it has a surprisingly understated atmosphere despite its namesake being the Grecian god of Getting Turnt, the sleek interior paired with soft lighting and stylish fixtures, elegant.

Either way, it's the kind of place that warrants you actually pulling out the stops with your outfit and makeup; you rarely have a reason to doll yourself up like this and it makes a nice change of pace, but it seems like you shouldn't have bothered. What's the point in putting on a cute dress and nice heels, or doing your hair and opening your expensive Too Faced eyeshadow palette for the first time, if you're just going to be sitting alone at a bar all night? At least you don't stick out, which is good, you guess.

You are the only person who's alone, though. It's midweek and everyone else is seated around one of the tables, couples and groups that are engaged in quiet discussion or watching the show— there's a small stage where there's a quartet performing live music— but you're perched on one of the barstools, tapping away at your phone, alone. If anyone were to pay any attention it would be obvious that you've been stood up, but they're all too busy having an enjoyable evening to spare a glance at the girl sitting by herself at the bar.

The only person who's paying attention to you is the bartender. He's clearly good at his job, keeping an eye on you and making you feel welcome without seeming like he's hovering; he doesn't act like you're being an inconvenience, but you give him a hefty tip each time you order a new drink anyway. Hoseok might not be turning up tonight but if you've gone to the effort of dressing this nicely and getting a taxi here then goddamn you're going to make the most of it.

It takes forty two minutes and three virgin cocktails before the handsome bartender speaks to you, saying something beyond the customary back and forth you've had so far as he hands you your next mocktail.

"Are your friends usually this late?"

You let out a little huff of laughter. "Something like that." Normally you'd be more hesitant to speak to a stranger like this, but the bartender's eyes are warm and his smile seems genuine and from what you can tell, he's just making that sure you're okay. "Seems like it'll just be me for tonight."

"You're welcome to stay and wait as long as you like," he says, and you can't help but quirk a grin at him.

"I bet you say that to all the paying customers."

He laughs and raises his hands in surrender. "You got me." And then: "If you want another drink, just give me a shout. I'm Seokjin, but everyone calls me Jin."

"As in, Jin and tonic?" You smile. "Sure. I'll be sure to remember that. I'm Y/n."

"Nice to meet you, Y/n." Jin gives you a grin before disappearing down the other side of the bar to make drinks for some other customers. Your own smile slowly fades, and then turns into a frown, eyes landing on the clock on the wall; Hoseok is forty five minutes late at this point. (You know he's not going to show.) It's been so long that the musicians on the stage have finished their set and are leaving, a different performer about to step on, and you sigh. You'll finish this last drink and then you'll go.

You use your straw to stir the mint leaves and ice cubes around, muddling the flavours in your glass. You haven't really been paying attention to the music before now; you couldn't name the songs that have been performed so far, but they're common enough that you'd recognised the sound of them, the sort of music that most people could hum along to but probably wouldn't know the origin of. Easy listening. Pleasant, but nothing new. It's clearly more about setting a nice backdrop to the bar rather than music for music's sake. A background noise, rather than acting as the focal point of the bar.

You assume this is going to be the case for the next musician, and so you barely pay any mind as the he takes to the stage alone; you're looking down at your glass as he sits at the piano and puts his feet on the pedals and places his hands on the keys, but then, he starts to play.

Your eyes snap up. A chord hangs in the air, extended, haunting; a crescendo into a light melody; the chords dip, waters dark and deep while he weaves the higher notes with infinite softness, ebbing notes that fade into each other, his fingers dancing across the keys with grace and ease. You notice with a throb in your chest that he has no sheet music. He's pulling this music from inside him, his mind, entirely from his own memory.

His eyes are cast down as he watches his hands, but you can see how they slip shut whenever he tilts his head back, fringe hanging over them. His hair is bleached blond but he clearly hasn't been maintaining the look, with dark roots starting to show through. His posture is horrible, his spine a little curved as he slouches forward, and he's not dressed as sharply as the other musicians had been— there's no tie around his neck and he has a multitude of earrings in, rings on his fingers, changing his outfit into something a little messy and different and entirely unique.

He's fucking breathtaking.

Without realising, you've swivelled away from the bar to watch him. Your drink is still clutched in your hand but you pay it no mind, condensation gathering on the cold glass and dripping down your fingers the longer you sit there, ice cubes melting as he finishes his first song and moves onto the next. Same as the first, you don't recognise it, the melody echoing deep in your chest, speaking of some feeling that you can't put a name to, each sliding arpeggio and chord reaching inside you and hanging there, little glowing droplets that shine out like moonlight.

Each of his pieces are entirely different and yet they all feel like him, somehow. Strong and soft and lovely and aching. The water from your glass has pitter-pattered onto your lap, darkening the fabric of your dress in some nameless constellation, but you don't notice. Your world has narrowed down to: the sound of his music, the motions of his hands, the way he bends into the notes, him.

Your eyes trace his profile, the cat-like eyes, the round of his nose, the pout of his lips, falling into the way he lifts his chin and tilts his head; thoughtless, gorgeous.

You don't realise that it's over until it's over. The final notes hang in the air, crystallising, and then they fade. He finishes with little fanfare, tilting a polite nod at the audience that claps for him, and then he slips off the stage and is gone just as quickly as he had come. You blink, coming back to yourself; you feel like you're rising out of deep water, motions slow and heavy, and you don't know how long you've been sitting there, entirely entranced. You'd been too distracted to clap. You'd just sat and watched in silence as he'd turned to leave, barely sparing the room a glance.

"Good, isn't he?"

Normally you would have startled at Jin's sudden appearance. Instead you just blink again, still trying to shake off the daze you've found yourself in. "Yeah." Your voice is hoarse. You clear your throat and suck in a breath and put your drink down, dripping wetness that leaves a ring on the smooth wood of the bar, and try to speak normally this time, willing your voice to be level. "Yes. He's very good."

"Yoongi is here at the same time every week," Jin supplies, tone conversational, like he's just having a regular chat. Yoongi. His name is Yoongi. You wonder if Jin can hear how your heart is pounding, the galloping hooves of a wild horse that tumble in your chest. You try to keep your expression stoic as you look at him, scared that he'll be able to read what's written across your face— but he's smiling at you in the same way as before. Just a barkeeper who's trying to get a return customer. (Although, you'd swear there was a glint in his eye for the briefest moment, but then it's gone.) "He changes the set each time, if you're interested in coming back to hear something new."

Your mouth feels dry and you swallow, trying to wet your lips. Dionysus is too fancy of a place to ask customers for tips for the musicians, but— "Can I buy him a drink?"

Jin cocks his head at you. "A drink? For Yoongi?"

"Yes," you say. You feel a little shy when you spot his expression, biting your lip. "I just really enjoyed the music, and I'd like to tip him somehow? Is that a normal thing that people do?"

Jin pauses, and then smiles. This smile is a little wider than the ones he's given you before, different, but he seems pleased. "Who cares about what's normal? I'll get a drink to him. What would you like?"

"Um, whatever he prefers," you say. You figure that Jin would have a better idea about what that is than you, which is proven true by his almost instantaneous reply.

"He likes red wine, or whisky, neat. I think tonight is a whisky kind of night." He's already going through the motions of putting the drink together, and you slide him money as he begins to pour. You know nothing about Yoongi but you can't help but feel like the drink suits him— simple, classic, masculine. "Do you want me to pass on a message for you?"

"Um, you can just say that it's from someone who enjoyed the music, I guess?" You giggle a little, feeling awkward and off balance. Jin is looking at you like he's expecting you to say something else, but you just want to express your enjoyment of Yoongi's music and nothing more. You don't— you don't want to be weird, you just like the sound of his piano playing.

Jin disappears into the back with the glass of whisky, and you finish the watery remnants of your drink before you leave, ice cubes completely melted in the— wow— forty minutes that Yoongi had been playing. It hadn't felt that long at all.

It's not until you're stepping through your front door that you realise you haven't looked at your phone since before the beginning of Yoongi's set. Jimin's messages have been changing from apologetic to concerned to downright frantic.

jiminnie Y/N BLINK TWICE IF YOU NEED HELP

you how many times should i blink if i don't need help?

jiminnie omg you're ALIVE where were you?? i was starting to get worried

you sorry i got distracted! but i'm fine, i'm at home hoseok never showed

jiminnie yeah i know :(( he messaged me saying he had an emergency and couldn't make it tonight but he's free this weekend??

you … remember when i said that this was the last blind date i was going to go on?

jiminnie it doesn't count as a date if hyung never turned up!!!

you that isn't true and you know it omg minnie… i appreciate what you're trying to do but pls bb. let it rest

jiminnie i just want you to be happy :((

you i don't have to be in a relationship to be happy

jiminnie you said you were lonely!

you omg i was DRUNK let it GO besides being stood up by multiple blind dates isn't going to help me feel less lonely lmao i get that you're happy in your relationship with kookie and you want to spread that happiness but you don't have to!! i'm fine!! yeah i get lonely sometimes but what single person doesn't?? i'm happy being by myself hhhhh

jiminnie fine :(( but if you change your mind, hobi-hyung would still love to meet you!

As you kick off your heels, humming a bar of Yoongi's music to yourself, you think that Hoseok probably shouldn't bother holding his breath.

(That night, when you sleep, you dream of dark eyes and the press of a sinfully perfect cupid's bow against your own lips, a pair of large hands drawing noises from you like a glissando, rings cool against your heated skin.)

–

Wednesday nights become a ritual of sorts. You get dressed, do your hair, match your makeup to your outfit and shoes, coordinating your look into something that doesn't look out of place in Dionysus before you hop into a taxi and make your way to the bar.

You're a firm regular by now. Your seat has become just that, your seat, the same one you'd been sitting in the first time you'd been there; it's towards the dimmer lights at the back and so you're sitting further away from the stage than you might like, but at least you can see the whole room from here. You turn up twenty minutes before Yoongi's set and Jin always greets you warmly when he sees you: you've quickly come to enjoy your chats. Jin is always unashamedly himself and the two of you joke and laugh as he works, but he always knows to leave you alone as soon as Yoongi steps onto the stage.

For the next forty minutes the rest of the world fades away as you drink Yoongi and his music in, listen to the lilting notes he coaxes out of the piano, watch how his fingers rest on each key before he slides into his next piece, reverent.

You never ever explicitly mention Yoongi in your conversations with Jin, though. The bartender seems to bring the musician up anyway; he does it smoothly, in a way that's utterly casual, and he seems to know a surprising amount about someone who is, by all accounts, a very private person. (You're not complaining about the fact that you now know that Yoongi wears Kumamon slippers because his feet get cold easily— "he's cold blooded, like a lizard," apparently— but you do wonder how Jin knows that.)

The Yoongi that Jin describes is just as beautiful as the man you see on stage, but less mysterious, less distant— and yet he still intimidates you.

Jin might be his friend but to you Yoongi is unapproachable. Untouchable. To him you're just a nameless face in the audience, nothing more. His eyes will slide across the room before he starts his performance, but he never seems to notice you; it's no surprise, sitting where you do, in an area of relative darkness in comparison to the rest of the bar, and once he sits down he only looks at the piano under his hands. He has no eyes for anything else. You're far enough away and his lashes are cast so low that even when his eyes are open it's hard for you to see where he's looking, and the shadow of his fringe hides how his pupils scan his hands as he plays, anyway.

Every week, when the set draws to a close, Jin is already pouring Yoongi's whisky or wine and you slide him the exact amount of change. Every week, Jin asks if you want to pass on a message, and every week, you say the same thing: that it's from someone who enjoyed the music. And that's that. Jin will disappear to give Yoongi his drink and you'll finish your own drink in quiet solitude before you slide off your barstool to go home.

(The only thing that's changed over the weeks is that the music Yoongi plays seems to be a little lighter and— dare you say— happier? He still looks down at the piano with the same intensity, still lays his hands on the keys with the same delicate pressing weight before he begins to play— but with some songs he seems to be teasing the music out, flirting with each note, eyelashes fluttering as he lifts his chin and moves his hands.

You're not a musician by any means, so you don't know how to describe it with any sort of accuracy or terminology, but to you it's like the deep waters of Yoongi's music have been cut through with light, beams of sun rippling through the dark blue. You don't know what's caused this change, the slow uplift in his mood throughout the weeks, but you hope he manages to keep hold of it, whatever it is.)

Between work and studying and volunteering and making time to see friends, you don't often have time entirely to yourself, and so Wednesday nights are a rare moment of peace during your otherwise busy week. That's why when Jimin says that he's had to rearrange your weekly film night to Wednesday— because he and Jungkook are going down to Busan to see each other's families this weekend— you decline.

Jimin is rendered speechless and demands to know why.

"I'm busy," is your answer. Jimin doesn't buy it.

"You're never too busy for movie night," he says. "Wednesday is the only night we're all free."

"Well, I'm not free, Minnie. Sorry," you say. His head is in your lap, your fingers gently stroking his hair, and you can easily see the way his face contorts with disbelief as he stares up at you.

"Do you hear that, babe? Y/n is too busy for our weekly tradition." Jimin sounds scandalised.

Jimin is stretched out between the two of you— while his head is in your lap, his feet are in Jungkook's, the younger man idly massaging his boyfriend's ankles and feet. "Yes, babe, I heard," Jungkook says, indulgent.

"What's more important than movie night?" Jimin lifts one of his legs and Jungkook turns his attention to that one, digging his fingers into the arch of Jimin's foot. Jimin sighs in relief, but then turns the full force of his stare back at you. "We were going to watch Spirited Away. You love Spirited Away."

"I'm just busy," you say, and that had been your mistake. You should have had some sort of credible reason but you hadn't been prepared, and while he hadn't made it obvious at the time, Jimin had latched onto your vague excuse, sniffing out weakness like a shark with blood in the water. If you'd been paying attention you'd have noticed, but you hadn't paid attention and so you hadn't noticed. (Whoops.)

And so, Wednesday night that week is the same as always; Yoongi plays his music, you fall a little bit more in love, and pass your compliments to him with Jin as the mouthpiece. You go home, wash your makeup off, and arch into the touch of your own hand while imagining it's someone else's fingers sliding across your skin. Routine. Normal. Uninterrupted. Peaceful.

The next week, however, it all goes to shit.

Okay. Maybe that's a little dramatic. It's not as bad as all that. The night starts as normal: you're on your stool, and you have your drink, and you have ten minutes until Yoongi is due to play, shifting to get comfortable, crossing your legs.

But then:

"Oh my God, you're wearing your come fuck me heels," comes Jimin's voice from behind you, and your blood turns to ice.

You turn on the barstool so fast you almost fall off it. You come face to face with Jimin who has an expression of what can only be described as sheer delight on his face. He's even dressed appropriately for the bar, a silk shirt tucked into his Very Tight jeans and a subtle smoky eye to top it off; Jungkook looks nice, too, but you have no doubt that he's only here under sufferance, if the infinitely apologetic look on his face is anything to go by.

"Jimin?" Your voice comes out as a hiss. If you were a cat your back would be up and your hackles would be raised and all your fur would be on end, your entire body going into fight mode. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see for myself what was more important than movie night," Jimin says simply, like it's obvious. "So here we are."

"Sorry, Y/n," Jungkook apologises from over his boyfriend's shoulder. Jimin ignores him.

You can feel how your face is starting to flush, your skin crawling with embarrassment. You change your outfit every week and your friends have managed to turn up on the one week where you've cycled into what could probably be considered your most promiscuous one, the hem of your dress high and the cut of it low, along with shoes that Jimin had rightfully named as your Come Fuck Me heels. It wasn't because you were trying to seduce anyone but you only have so many items in your wardrobe that are appropriate for Dionysus.

"How did you find me?"

"I have my ways," Jimin says mysteriously.

"He stalked your Bitmoji on Snapchat. Ow." Jungkook pouts as Jimin slaps his arm. "Sorry, again. I said we should leave you alone but Jimin said we should check in case you'd been kidnapped because you never willingly go into bars."

You're interrupted by Jin, who'd been busy serving someone when your idiot friends had turned up; he leans across the bar and touches your shoulder and fixes Jimin and Jungkook with the most intimidating look you've ever seen on his face. You know Jin as a light-hearted pun master, harmless and goofy and approachable, a great friend— but right now he looks like some sort of beautiful guardian angel, broad shouldered and narrow eyed and honestly, pretty menacing.

"Are you alright?" He keeps his eyes on the other two men as he speaks. "Are these guys bothering you?"

Jimin, rather than looking cowed, looks like he's reached a stage of absolute euphoria, eyes darting between Jin's hand on your shoulder to your face. Jungkook's face, meanwhile, is doing that thing it does whenever someone issues him some kind of challenge, his sweetness abruptly being swallowed by his competitive side and his stubborn refusal to lose anything. You're the only person who has the power to save this situation before it goes absolutely tits up, and you swallow down a resigned sigh.

"I'm fine, thank you, Jin," you say, looking at him with a smile as you pat the hand on your shoulder. "Unfortunately these guys are my friends, much to my infinite suffering. Well, Jungkook's alright. Jimin is the one who's the pain."

"Hey," Jimin whines. Jungkook looks quietly pleased, but pretends to scowl when Jimin looks at him, offended on his boyfriend's behalf.

Jin still seems unhappy but pulls his hand back. "Alright," he says, but then he pitches his voice low so that only you can hear: "If you need any help, just ask me for a rum and soda, okay?"

You always order mocktails whenever you're here, wanting to stay completely sober so that you can enjoy Yoongi's playing with all the attention it deserves. You've never asked for anything alcoholic, least of all a rum and soda. Although you really are okay, you can't help but be warmed by Jin's concern for you and how he's offering you this careful, considerate lifeline in case you need it. "I will do. Thanks, Jinnie."

He smiles at you and then gives Jungkook and Jimin one final frown before going to deal with a gaggle of customers who've gathered at the other end of the bar. While Jungkook remains standing, taking in the interior of the bar with wide eyes, Jimin slides onto the stool next to yours.

"He's fucking hot," Jimin says with no preamble, eyeing Jin without shame as the bartender starts to pour and mix different drinks. Jungkook makes a disgruntled noise but settles when Jimin pats him fondly on the butt. "I'm not surprised you're wearing those heels. I would too if I were you."

"Oh my God, Jimin." You hide your face in your hands. "Jin is just a friend, please don't make this weird."

"Come on, Y/n, it's okay," Jimin says reassuringly as he pats your shoulder, replacing Jin's touch with his own. "The blind dates might not have worked out, but you've met someone nice so that's good! I mean, you did meet him because I organised the date here in the first place, but I'll let that slide. Also I can't believe you missed movie night because of a boy and you didn't tell me, but I'll let that slide too because I love you."

Park Jimin is your best friend. Park Jimin meddles in your life despite your protestations and isn't beyond being passive aggressive to get his way, but Park Jimin is also one of the nicest people you know and everything he does is because he loves you and will do whatever he thinks is necessary to reach his end goal of making you happy. He's magnanimous and kind and caring, and he also has absolutely the wrong idea right now, clearly under the impression that you're attracted to Seokjin and have been flirting with him for however many weeks it's been since you were meant to meet Hoseok here.

"No, seriously, Jimin, it's not Jin." You look at Jimin through the gaps in your fingers. "He's cute, yeah, but I don't come here because of him."

Your friend looks genuinely baffled, hand stilling on your shoulder. "Then why are you here?"

And, with perfect timing— as if your life is some badly written film or romantic drama— the clock ticks over to 8pm and Yoongi steps onto the stage. His hair is dark, blond replaced with black a few weeks ago, though it's still long enough that it hangs in his eyes; he looks a little ragged around the edges, a little messy, a little tired, and altogether beautiful. You want to touch the coolness of your fingertips to the dark circles under his eyes, want to press kisses across each of his bony knuckles, want to let your tongue settle in the hollow of his neck that shows each time he leans back and tilts his head up just so.

You hadn't even meant to but you'd turned away from Jimin the second you'd heard piano notes begin to play, drawn in by the sound like a moth to a flame. Jimin's hand falls off your shoulder and you hear him breathe out a quiet oh of realisation. You tear your eyes away from the sight of Yoongi at the piano and turn on your stool to face the bar again, gripping your glass with both hands, shoulders hunched.

"I like to watch him play," you say, and your voice is near a whisper, so as not to detract from the music.

"It's beautiful," Jungkook says, speaking before Jimin can say anything. His voice is quiet, too, not wanting to break over the sound of the piano.

And so you hear with absolute clarity as Yoongi shifts mid-song into something different and it startles you. Yoongi always varies his music, always has something new, but you've been here often enough that you had recognised the opening song— it was one of your favourites— and you know that he's cut himself off before finishing, soft melody jumping into the opening bars of something different, sharper, a little angry, maybe sorrowful. Something that pulls at you and demands your attention.

Of course you give it to him. You swing your head away from your drink to watch him once more, watch how his motions have changed, the way he surges forward and presses his weight into his arms and down into his hands, his fingertips, the keys. You turn your entire body at this point, settling in your usual position for when you watch Yoongi; you see how his head tilts and he shifts from a minor into a major key, the same notes and chords transformed from something pensive into something joyful as he leans away from the heavier hands he'd been forcing the keys down with.

"How long does this go on for?" Jimin asks.

"About thirty or forty minutes," you answer. Though you turn your head back over your shoulder so that Jimin can hear you, you keep your eyes fixed on Yoongi. It's probably entirely coincidental, the sudden change in his music coinciding with when you turned away from him and when you looked back. He's not playing for you, he's playing for the whole bar, and besides, he's been looking down at the piano the whole time. He hasn't been looking at you.

And yet. The idea that Yoongi has noticed you and wants you to watch him has something hot settling low in your belly.

Jimin leans forward so that his chin is on your shoulder, talking directly into your ear as his hands wrap around your waist from behind. "This is the guy?"

Yoongi finishes the song and you watch in captivation as he swallows and runs a hand through his hair before he starts the next one. He's never done that before. Fuck. "Yes. Yoongi's the guy."

"Do you wait until he's finished so you can speak with him?" Jimin asks, ever curious.

You pause. "No," you admit. "No, I've never actually spoken to him."

Jimin doesn't ask why you've been coming back to see a guy you don't know and haven't talked to. He just hums gently. Jimin is pushy but he's also understanding and empathetic and knows what to say, when to press forward and when to hold back. It's one of the reasons you love him so much.

Jimin lapses into silence as Yoongi starts the next piece. It's one you haven't heard before and it's a little fiercer than most of Yoongi's recent songs. Rather than each note sliding into the next, he hammers them out separately, each note a statement that builds into something larger, a provocation. A storm gathering above Yoongi's waters, threatening to pull you in, pull you under.

Behind you, you hear Jungkook and Jimin briefly murmuring to each other, then Jimin's hands slide from off your waist and you hear the sound of him shifting so that Jungkook can sit down, Jimin using his boyfriend's lap as a chair instead. You have to wonder if the barstools can actually support that kind of weight, but Jin doesn't come over to tell them off, so you figure it must be okay.

On stage, Yoongi's hands pause, an uncharacteristic caesura that breaks the flow of the notes he'd been stringing together before he resumes playing as if this hiccup had never occurred. To anyone else, it would sound like that break was meant to be there, but you know better. You know Yoongi had faltered.

No way.

No way?

He's paying attention to you.

(Oh, shit.)

No way.

You're suddenly so overwhelmed that you actually feel nauseous. You've been consumed with thoughts of Yoongi for weeks, had images of him playing you just as easily as he does that piano, thoughts of him laying you out bare beneath him, but the idea that Yoongi actually knows who you are? Is aware of you on some level? Wants your eyes on him?

Fuck.

It's too much.

You're already off kilter from Jimin and Jungkook's arrival— as harmless as their appearance was meant to be— and this is the cherry on top. You don't know if you can keep your composure right now and you need to get away from Yoongi before you end up walking onto the stage and pulling him off that stupid piano stool to show him exactly how much you enjoy his music.

"Jimin? Jungkook? How about you say we go to a club and get absolutely shitfaced?"

You haven't looked away from Yoongi in the time that you've said this, but you can just feel the confusion emanating from the men behind you.

"But you—"

"I thought—"

"We're already dressed up, aren't we? Besides, I still owe you for film night, so drinks are on me."

There's little argument from them after that. For the first time since you've been coming here you leave before Yoongi's set is done, slipping out of the bar without noticing Jin's confused gaze on you.

It's not until much later, once you've drunkenly fallen onto Jimin and Jungkook's couch, that the sober part of your brain whispers to you: you didn't buy Yoongi his drink.

(That night you dream of stormy skies and tattered sails and a capsizing ship. Once you wake, the memory of the dream quickly leaves you, and the last thing you remember is the sight of someone reaching towards you, pulling you out of the water, skin pale and head ringed with blond hair, a halo— and then you forget that too, slipping through your fingers like quicksand.)

–

Of course you go back to Dionysus the next week. You make Jimin promise that he won't turn up without warning again, and then you make Jungkook promise that he'll at least send you a heads-up message if Jimin changes his mind. Despite both these promises, after the debacle last week with your outfit, you've actually bought new clothes, so at least today you don't feel as scandalous. (You still look hot, though.)

You're grateful when Jin doesn't press you for details or ask why you left early last week. He just greets you like he normally does and predicts your order with his usual aptitude, and as you stir your drink with your straw, you have to wonder at what happened. You're probably overreacting, overthinking things, grasping at nothing; there is not a chance in hell that Min Yoongi, reclusive piano savant, has noticed you. No way. Nuh-uh.

He's probably only aware of your existence because of the repeated drinks you've had Jin foist on him. If anything he's probably annoyed at you after not tipping him with last week— he's probably come to expect them by now and you'd forced him to miss out. Maybe you'll get Jin to give him two drinks this week? Ooh, then again, maybe not. Is two shots of whisky a lot? People drink doubles, don't they. How strong is the wine he likes, anyway?

Yoongi's appearance on stage pulls you out of your thoughts. He makes his way up the steps, towards the piano, scans the room— and then for the first time since you've been coming here to watch him, he stops.

He stops because he's looking at you.

It's only for the briefest moment, eyes resting on you for maybe five seconds, and then you breathlessly watch as his mouth twists into something that can only be described as a smirk, pleased at the sight of you.

Oh, God.

He looks away and sits at the piano like he normally does, but you would swear that his back is a little straighter— something in his posture that reads as cockiness, even. He launches into a song that starts light but then almost immediately dances into something flirtatious, seductive, and tonight whenever Yoongi glances at you, he makes sure that you know. He turns his head just so, looks at you through the curve of his lashes, each touch of those dark eyes against your own sending little shivers through you, punching the breath out of your lungs.

You've always been entranced by Yoongi and tonight is no different. The minutes slide by as easy as water, liquid, music gliding over you like the rising tide, kissing your skin like the ebb and flow of the waves. It feels like he's barely started when his set is over and he's finished, standing up with as little ostentation as always before he vanishes off the stage.

You already have the money counted out before Jin has made his way over. You slide it towards him as he pours the whisky, but rather than asking if you have a message to pass to Yoongi, a look of consternation passes over his face.

"The price has gone up," Jin says, and you blink.

"Oh, that's no problem. How much is it now?" You're reaching for your purse to get more money out when Jin puts the whisky on the bar in front of you.

"No, don't worry, I'll just go out back and get the right change for you," he says. He says it with such confidence that it takes you a beat too long to realise that what he's just said makes no sense— why is he getting you change if you haven't even given him enough money? Isn’t there change in the till?— but by this point he's already gone, the staff door swinging shut behind him.

You tilt your head, beyond confused.

Someone chuckles from behind you, the sound quiet and low. "Ah, cute."

You twist in your seat to see who's talking and then freeze. Yoongi is standing right there, looking at you with his dark, dark eyes; it's the first time you've been subjected to the full intensity of his gaze, from this close, and your pulse picks up. He looks a little softer without the lights of the small stage throwing him into sharp relief but his aura is just as intense; your eyes dart across each feature of his face as you drink him in— the mess of his fringe hanging into his sharp eyes, the faintest freckle on his nose, his surprisingly cute cheeks, his pink mouth.

The mouth that's curving into a sly little smile, now, your eyes flying back up to meet his own.

"I'm guessing this is for me?" He points at the whisky. He takes it before you can answer, and there's something unfairly erotic about how he drinks it: the way he holds the glass, swirling the whisky over the chilled rocks inside; the way his mouth falls open as the tumbler touches his lips; the way his head tilts back as he lets the liquor flow into his mouth, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

You shamelessly watch him the whole time. He lowers the glass from his lips, still a little parted as he takes a breath in, and then he's looking back at you. You have to bite back a noise that's risen up in your throat, unbidden. Does he know how much he affects you?

You adjust your position on the barstool, thoughtlessly uncrossing and recrossing your legs as you regain your balance. Yoongi's eyes fly down to watch the motion and you're close enough to him that you see how his pupils dilate at the movement. A breath escapes your mouth, a little pant of air that you desperately mask as a cough as you try to calm the racing of your heart, the flood of arousal that's pulsing through you.

"I'm glad you like the whisky," you say, your voice steady despite how your legs feel like they're about to give out. (Thank god you're sitting down.) "I'm sorry to have deprived you of it last week."

Yoongi's shifted so that he's leaning against the bar. He's standing while you're still sitting and you have to tilt your head back to look at him. "You did seem like you were in an awful hurry," he says, a teasing lilt to his tone, and yet his voice is still so low, deeper than you'd imagined.

Despite the levity in his words there's something heavy in his gaze. "Oh?" You can't help but react to it, helpless and unable to resist. "You noticed me leaving?"

Yoongi's eyes sharpen. Hooked. "Of course," he says. "You're the only thing I pay attention to when I'm here. You have been from the first night you walked in."

Your breath catches in your throat. You hadn't expected Yoongi to say something so forthright, to be so direct, more used to coy flirtation from the other people you've met in the past; it's like you've been dipped in cold water, a shock to the system, bracing and invigorating and refreshing.

"Oh," you say, at a loss with how to respond. Yoongi seems pleased to have gotten this reaction out of you, the corners of his lips curving upwards in a self satisfied smile.

"Besides," he adds, "I find it flattering that not only do you come here every week to watch me, you always make sure to make your appreciation known, too." He lifts the glass up and takes another drink, but this time he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he does, gaze unwavering as he finishes his drink. The rocks tumble over themselves as he sets the glass down on the bar, lower lip wet with a drop of whisky that lingers; his tongue sweeps across it and leaves a sheen, catching the light, shining. You can't tear your eyes away from the sight. "It would have been hard to ignore that even if I'd wanted to."

A shiver trickles down your spine. You'd really only ever meant it as a compliment, a quiet way to express your admiration about his craft, and you have to ask— "How long have you been playing the piano?"

This question seems to throw Yoongi off kilter. You see the way his lashes flutter as he blinks with surprise. "For as long as I can remember," he says, and then a small smile appears on his lips. "When I was young I had a toy piano that I constantly used to hammer at, so when I grew up a little, my parents bought the real thing so that I could learn how to play."

He sounds nostalgic and your heart squeezes in your chest. "You're self-taught, right?" You ask, remembering something Jin had told you before.

Yoongi looks briefly startled. "Yes, I am," he says, and then his eyes narrow. "Did Jin tell you that?"

"Um, yeah." You squirm a little on the barstool. "Sorry, should I not have said anything about it?"

"No, no, you're okay. It's just that Jin says a lot of things, and I'm just wondering what else he said to you." Yoongi's tone is weirdly pained.

The concern is obvious on his face, and you wonder if Jin is to Yoongi what Jimin is to you— well-meaning but maybe a little overwhelming in their approach.

"All good things, I promise. I love dogs, too." You smile up at Yoongi, who seems a little taken aback, and the smile starts to drop off your face. "Um. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." For all that Yoongi was smirking earlier, he seems a little unsure now. You feel confused, waiting as Yoongi clearly turns some thoughts over in his head, and then he says: "What exactly has Jin told you?"

You smile. You recognise that tone, the nonchalance that hides a little worry— it's exactly how you sound whenever you find out that Jimin has been speaking to someone about you, even if it's always positively. "Oh, just bits and pieces," you say. Feeling bold, you pat the barstool next to you, tilting your head invitingly. "Why don't you tell me about yourself instead so we can see if Jin was lying to me?"

Yoongi looks genuinely startled, his eyes widening imperceptibly before the expression wipes off his face as if nothing had happened. "Why not," he says, as if in equal parts to himself and to you, before he takes a seat.

Here's what you learn about Yoongi: he's intense, yes, and soft spoken, but as you continue to talk, he begins to loosen up, bit by bit. When he laughs he smiles so wide that his eyes squeeze shut and you can see his gums and you're so fucking endeared at the sight. He's sharp and smart and witty and just so, so intriguing.

You prop your elbow on the bar and rest your cheek in your hand as he talks, wanting to take everything in, and you rapidly realise that Min Yoongi is less of an enigma than you'd thought, but just as complex as you'd expected— and you want to unravel that complexity. If he'll let you.

You've been talking for so long that the bar has started to empty out, patrons trickling away, the two of you so engrossed with each other that you barely notice. You find out that Jin and Yoongi are actually roommates, best friends, and that Jin is as chaotic as you'd expect and is also very good at drawing Yoongi into his shenanigans; you throw your head back to laugh at one of his stories, and when you catch your breath you find Yoongi looking at you, watching you with an expression on his face that makes you pause. He's been watching you intently all night, listening quietly whenever you talk, but this expression, this is new. He swallows.

"Can I ask something?"

You blink. "Sure, go ahead."

"Why did you keep coming back?" Yoongi asks, and that's not a question you'd been expecting at all.

"Uh," you say eloquently. "Well. Honestly? I couldn't stay away, I guess. I'm not really a musician, and I don't know a lot about the piano, but there's something in your music and the way you play— every song makes me feel something different and new, or reminds me of something I haven't felt, places I haven't been to, but I feel like I know somehow. Like I'm nostalgic for something that I haven't experienced, that doesn't exist. It's almost like you're taking my hand and showing me around some hidden part of the world that only you can see— like you've made it into music because that's the only way you can communicate it. How could I not come back after that?" You pause. "Um. Does that make sense? I feel like it didn't. Sorry?"

Yoongi's been watching you as you've been talking, silent, and by the time you've finished his mouth has fallen open a little. He stares at you for a few moments longer, and then he says: "Holy shit." And then he says: "Oh my God." And then he says: "What the fuck."

"… I guess it didn't make sense, then?" Despite the ease of your earlier conversation you suddenly feel awkward, laughing a little as your legs uncross so that you can shuffle to the edge of your barstool. Ready to hop up and make a quick get away if you need to. Run away from the embarrassment. "Um."

"Y/n," Yoongi says, and you realise with a start that you haven't introduced yourself to him throughout your whole conversation— Jin must have told him your name— but then he keeps talking. "I thought you just— I don't know, that you just kept coming back because of me. Not the music. Then Jin kept talking about you and—"

He makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and runs a hand through his hair; you stare at his bared forehead, and it says about how attracted you are to him that the sight of his forehead is enough to set your heart racing. "I thought that maybe if I let this happen just one time that it would be enough, but now I don't think it will."

"Yoongi." You're confused, unsure if you've correctly understood what he's just said. "Let what happen one time? What are you talking about?"

"Touching you," Yoongi says. "Fucking you." His voice is a rasp and the sound of it, the sound of his words, shoots straight through you and into your core. "I thought the drinks were— I don't know, an invitation. But they weren't, were they? You really meant it. You really like my music. And me."

Yoongi's voice is hoarse and you come to the realisation that he feels tense. Like he can accept that you want to have sex with him, but he's bowled over by the idea that you're attracted to the other parts, too, as few of those as you know. That you genuinely enjoy what he plays. That you think it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard.

"Yoongi," you say, tone deceptively gentle. "I really, really like your music, and I think you're an incredibly talented musician, and I've been memorising everything Jin's been telling me about you because I think you're one of the most interesting people I've ever come across and I'd really like to get to know more about you. So I'm really glad to have had the opportunity to talk to you like this." You gesture between the two of you, sitting as you are, facing towards each other on your barstools. And then you brace yourself to take the leap, to throw yourself into uncharted waters. "However, I am also insanely attracted to you and I've spent the past I-don't-know-how-many weeks picturing you bending me over that piano and fucking me so hard that I can't walk straight."

Yoongi freezes in the middle of rubbing the back of his neck, a clearly nervous habit. Though your voice has kept steady while you've been talking, your heart has been thrumming in your chest the whole time, feeling as nervous as Yoongi looks. Something flickers across his face, and his hand drops away from his neck as he straightens, pushing himself off from where he's been leaning against the bar.

"Oh?" He leans towards you. Your legs unthinkingly part as he moves, the material of your dress hitching up as you spread your knees so that he can get closer. "So you do want me to fuck you?"

His nervousness seems to be entirely gone, emboldened by your words. One of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, fingers sliding into your hair as he holds you in place, at his mercy. He's barely touched you but the feeling of contact makes you bite back a whimper. Even though it's darker here and you're away from the tables, away from the few remaining patrons of the bar, the two of you are in plain sight even under the dimmed lights; you're not doing anything illicit or inappropriate but a little thrill trickles down your spine at the idea.

"Yoongi," you breathe.

"What is it, babygirl?" He tips his head down as he moves closer, his nose brushing yours, each of his words a warm curl across your lips. "Tell me."

The pet name sends a shiver through you. Your hands rise from your lap, sliding over his chest to touch lightly at his neck, a little shy, a little bold. "I want you to kiss me."

"Oh?" Yoongi's mouth is so close to yours, and when you tilt forward to kiss him, he stays just out of your reach, leaving you wanting. "You think you deserve a kiss, do you?"

You can't help but make a little noise, a petulant whine at the back of your throat. He has you entirely at his mercy and he knows it. "Please," you say. "Please, Yoongi, wanna kiss you so bad."

The smile he gives you in reply is wicked. "How can I say no when you've asked so politely?"

Yoongi finally, finally dips his head down and then he's kissing you with such intensity it steals the breath out of you. It's open-mouthed and wet and dirty, his tongue sliding into your mouth in between taking your top and bottom lips between his own, alternating, sucking on them and lapping at them with his tongue. You chase after his mouth with your own, roll your tongues together, hands sliding over the smooth skin of his throat as they circle behind his neck, but then Yoongi pulls away; you bite that needy whine back again, kiss cut short far sooner than you would have liked.

Yoongi is taking the sight of you in, eyes lingering on your shining lips, and then he's rising to stand. You're shaken out of your kiss-induced haze when he does, a little confused, but he takes your hand in his and you let him lift up, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to the back of your knuckles.

"Do you want to get out of here?" His voice is pitched low, deep with a promise of pleasure to come, and you shiver.

"God, I thought you'd never ask," you say in a rush, and he just laughs quietly at your obvious desperation.

"Come on, then." He helps you off the barstool, your hand still in his— god, his hands are so big and his touch is so warm. His eyes are dark as he watches the way you reach to rearrange the hem of your dress with your free hand, but he beats you to it, palm flattening the material against your legs; his fingers dance just under the edge as he straightens it, hand sliding over the skin of your inner thigh and lingering before he pulls away.

"You're shameless," you say, a little breathless, and Yoongi just smirks at you. Tease.

Your fingers remain tangled with his as he leads you behind the bar and through the staff door. Jin's out back, scrolling through something on his phone, but as soon as you walk in he abandons whatever he's doing and raises his eyebrows. He looks surprisingly severe. "Customers aren't allowed back here."

Your eyes widen, but then Jin's serious expression cracks and he starts to laugh. Although he's joking and clearly doesn't care, you feel a little guilty at breaking the rules and duck behind Yoongi, shy. Yoongi snorts and holds a middle finger up at the bartender.

Jin gasps theatrically, clutching his chest while looking askance. "I raise you from birth and this is the thanks I get?"

"You're one year older than me, hyung."

"I carry you in my womb for nine months and birth you into this world and you— oh, okay, you technically shouldn't be doing that either," Jin says, stopping mid-sentence as Yoongi decides his hyung has been talking for too long and turns away from him to start kissing you again, shameless as he tugs you close to him and licks into your mouth; you immediately fall back into him, unable to resist. "Jesus Christ, Yoongi."

Once you part, you bury your head into Yoongi's chest as his arms come around you, hiding your embarrassment in Yoongi's dress shirt. "Sorry, Jinnie," you say, muffled.

"You are absolutely not to blame here, Y/n, you are an angel and a sweetheart." Jin's tone is soothing. "Yoongi, however, is a tiny evil gremlin who needs to learn how to control himself. Though I can't blame him, you are very cute."

"Hyung, I need the apartment tonight," Yoongi says without preamble. You wriggle in the circle of his arms. You're not normally this timid but Yoongi is just so direct and blasé with Jin that you can't help but feel a little shy, as hot and bothered as you are.

"I'll crash at Joon's," the bartender says. He’s obviously not surprised. You lift your head from Yoongi's chest to look at Jin and find that he's smiling at you. "If Yoongi starts to bother you, just whap him on the nose. I find a rolled up newspaper works best if you have one to hand."

"I'll kill you, Kim Seokjin," Yoongi says.

Jin just laughs as he waves the two of you off and you take the initiative to start pulling Yoongi towards the back door. He comes easily, but once the door has swung shut behind you he takes the lead again and guides you towards his car. He lets go of your hand so that he can unlock it, swinging the passenger door open for you, and he's unabashed in how he watches you step in and eyes the way your dress hitches up again as you slide into your seat; he leans against the car and just stares at you.

There's honestly nothing sexier when someone clearly wants you as much as you want them. It makes you feel bold, drunk on the way he looks at you.

You glance up at him through your lashes. "The sooner we get to yours, the sooner you can have me," you say.

Yoongi curses under his breath. "You're going to be the death of me."

Surprisingly enough, though, he keeps his hands to himself when he gets behind the wheel. You can't help but feel a little surprised; you don't know how close Yoongi's home is to the bar, but you very rapidly tire of waiting to feel his hands on you again and so you lean over the centre console and press a fleeting kiss just behind his ear.

Yoongi doesn't outwardly react, continuing to stare at the road, so you take this as a challenge. You slide one of your hands onto his thigh— for balance, of course— and kiss behind his ear again, tug his lobe with your teeth, mindful of his piercings, and then proceed to trail little kisses down his neck and the little slither of his collarbone that you can reach without his shirt getting in the way. You finally get to lick your tongue in the hollow of his neck that you've been thinking about for weeks.

Yoongi's hands tighten on the steering wheel. Jackpot.

"Y/n," he says, voice low, and you're so close to his throat that you can hear the rumble behind his words. You love it. "You should stop now, or we're not going to make it to my apartment."

You go still. Yoongi continues to look at the road but his knuckles are white with how hard he's gripping the wheel, and when you glance down you can see how much you've affected him, cock hardening in his slacks. It would be so easy to slide your hand up his thigh and finally touch him, have him pull over and wreck you, but you want something more than a quick fumble in the seat of a car.

So you just press your lips lightly against the line of his jaw one last time. You let yourself breathe in the dark scent of his cologne— pinewood and pepper and something deeper— before you pull back, folding your hands in your lap demurely, trying to force yourself to be content with waiting.

"Good girl," Yoongi says. You can't help but preen; you don't normally respond to praise like this, but something about Yoongi just makes you want to please him, hear him compliment you again. Yoongi glances at you, a little flicker of realisation as he sees how you've just reacted to his words, and his eyes darken. "You like that, baby? Like being a good girl for me?"

Fuck. "Yes." Your pulse is rising. You've been craving Yoongi for weeks, but god, if he asked you to go home right now, sent you home without touching you, you'd go, just to hear him call you a good girl again. But you don't want him to leave you untouched, you don't want that at all. "I want you to touch me, Yoongi," you say. "I'll be a good girl, please just touch me."

"Fuck." Yoongi's foot presses down on the accelerator. He's never wanted to live closer to the bar before, but the sight of you staring at him from his passenger seat and rubbing your thighs together in a desperate attempt to give yourself some relief is making him rethink his housing location. "I will, baby. We'll be there soon."

Soon turns out to be less than five minutes, scarcely any time at all, though each second is torturous in how long it feels. Yoongi's careless in how he parks the car, wonky within the lines of his spot, but neither of you notice or care. You fumble with the buckle of your belt, climbing out of the car as quickly as you can and slamming the door shut with more power than you probably need to, noise loud in the quiet of the night.

Before you can react, however, Yoongi is rounding the car and grabbing you, pressing you against the metal and glass of the door. One of his hands slips under your thigh, lifting your leg and shoving the hem of your dress out of the way so that he can grind against you; you gasp at the feeling of his growing hardness against the dampness of your underwear, and Yoongi leans forward to swallow the sound into his mouth.

The kiss is rushed and desperate, but you love the messiness of it. Yoongi pulls away to press his lips against the side of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, mouthing at the jumping pulse he finds there. You start to make small ah-ah noises when he laves his tongue over it, one of your hands tangling in his hair as you tilt your head back, each of his touches fizzing like electricity on your skin.

"P-people could see," you stutter, struggling to catch your breath with how good his mouth feels on you.

Yoongi smirks against your skin. "I thought you wanted me to touch you," he says, but immediately relents, pulling away from you so he can lead you into the building. You miss the heat of his body against yours but he keeps hold of your hand as you follow him; it's late and the building seems quiet, so you're mindful of just how loud your high heels sound as they clack on the floor, though Yoongi doesn't seem to care.

When you step into the apartment you reach down for the straps on your shoes so you can kick them off but Yoongi stops you with a hand to your shoulder. It's a light touch but you stop immediately, glancing up from your feet to his face.

"Let me," he says, and a hot trickle of arousal runs down your spine at the tone of his voice.

You straighten up and watch as Yoongi gets down on one knee, hands circling around your ankle and lifting your foot. You rest the toe of your shoe lightly on Yoongi's knee, watching as he undoes the strap around your ankle and slides the shoe off, setting it to one side, before he presses his lips to the inside of your knee. You shiver at the light touch and Yoongi smirks, letting your ankle go so you can move and he can take your other shoe off, too.

He barely takes his eyes off your face the whole time, only glancing down when he has to. His motions are slow and unhurried despite his earlier rush, carefully setting the second shoe next to the first, and you can't help but feel like he's teasing you— drawing out your reactions just because he can. Before you can say anything about it, though, his hands trail up from your calves to your thigh before he hitches your leg over his shoulder, one hand staying on your thigh as the other grips at your hip.

You bite back a gasp. From his angle Yoongi can see everything and he's looking up with hooded eyes, staring at the dark patch on your underwear, wet for him; his gaze trails across the lace of the lingerie you're wearing, the small colourful flowers blooming across the dark material. It was something you'd put on to complete your outfit, the matching panties and bra making you feel expensive and pretty— even if you hadn't expected anyone to see it.

"Look at you," he says, hand lowering from your hip to trace lightly across your slit; it's a barely-there touch, sensation dulled by the material in the way, but you still jolt at the feeling of it. "Did you wear this for me?"

"Of course," you confess. You've wanted his eyes on you for so long. "Always dress up pretty for you."

"Fuck." He sounds reverent. "You've always been such a good girl for me, haven't you?"

A needy noise rises unbidden at the back of your throat when Yoongi spreads your leg wider and leans forward to mouth at you through the lace of your panties. Your knees go weak and you have to lean back against the wall for balance, grateful at how close you are to it when Yoongi draws his tongue upwards, wetting the fabric, your toes curling.

"Yoongi." One of your hands is resting in his hair and you can't stop your grip from tightening. "Yoongi, please."

He gives you what you want, fingers hooking into your underwear and pulling it down; he lets your leg drop so that you can step out of them, but as soon as you've finished he throws the panties to one side, one hand splaying across your stomach as the other lifts your leg again so that you’re spread open for him, immediately pressing his mouth to your clit.

"Oh!" You gasp. Yoongi seems to have tired of his teasing and is eating you out like a man starved, the slick sound of his tongue and lips filling the apartment as he laves attention on your dripping pussy, staring up at you as he drinks your reactions in. He dips his tongue into you and your hips try to buck forwards but the hand on your stomach holds you in place, firm, and you let out an embarrassingly loud keen at how good it feels to be this powerless.

You slap your free hand across your mouth and try to swallow the noise down. Yoongi frowns and stops, leaning his head back as he looks at you; his mouth is shining with evidence of your arousal, opalescent. "I want to hear you."

You bite your lip, forcing your hand away from your mouth; you don't want to be too loud, too noisy, but you want to be a good girl for Yoongi. He wants to hear you so you'll give him what he wants.

"O-okay," you breathe, and Yoongi smirks up at you; it's filthy, how he's looking at you like that while his lips are wet with you. You tilt your hips towards him, desperate to have his mouth on you again, and he immediately complies.

He's lapping at your clit when the hand on your stomach moves and slides down. You watch as he takes his tongue off you so that he can curl it around his fingers instead, before running those fingers across your lower lips to gather the slick there, wetting them even further. You roll your hips into the sensation, loving the press of his slightly rough fingers against your silken folds, wanting more, eyes wide as you watch how Yoongi's hand trails between your legs.

He puts his mouth back on your clit at the same time as he presses one of those spit slick fingers into you. You're so turned on that the initial slide in is easy, but he still takes his time; he's distracting you with the way he's sucking at your small bundle of nerves but you still feel when he presses his second finger in, longer than yours, the sensation of it even better than you'd dreamed.

He crooks his fingers and you throw your head back against the wall, dull thud barely registering over the sensation of Yoongi inside you. He sees how you react and continues to move his fingers in the same way, thrusting his fingers in and curling them as he pulls out, watching as you writhe; the pleasure inside you has been growing, the feeling building, and if Yoongi keeps doing that then you're going to cum. "I'm close," you gasp.

Yoongi responds to this by pushing a third finger inside you, rubbing his fingertips directly over your sweet spot. The stretch burns, just a little, but God, you love it. He purses his lips over your clit and flicks his tongue over it at the same time as he curls his fingers again and it undoes you; your spine arches away from the wall as you cum, ripples of pleasure sparking through your body as you tighten around Yoongi's fingers, sobbing almost deliriously at how good it feels.

Yoongi watches you the whole time, keeps his mouth on you as you ride out your high. He only moves away when you start to jolt from oversensitivity, pulling his fingers out carefully as he does. You feel empty without them inside you and you can't wait for him to fill you up with something better instead.

Yoongi holds you steady, his grip firm as you slip your leg from his shoulder and shakily push yourself off the wall. Once you've gotten your balance he stands up— his knees must hurt but he doesn't complain, too busy watching you lift his fingers to your lips, sucking them into your mouth so you can lick the taste of yourself off him.

"Jesus Christ." Yoongi stares at the way you flick your tongue across his skin, glancing at him coquettishly through your lashes. You reach out for him, hands moving towards his belt, but he shakes his head. "Bedroom," he says.

Of course you follow him. At any other time you'd be taking in the details of the apartment, the glimpses you get into the other rooms, but you're too busy looking at Yoongi to have a mind for anything else. He's been hard for so long by now that it must be driving him crazy and you want to give him what he wants. What he needs.

He swings a door open and flicks a light on. Yoongi's room is what you'd expected: neat and organised, with dark furnishings, the only mess being a few scrunched up balls of paper that have overflowed the trash-bin by his desk, which has a pile of notepads next to his laptop and a set up of musical equipment that looks far too complex for you to make heads or tails of.

You forget about this instantly, however, when Yoongi captures your lips in another kiss, a hand splaying across your jaw so that he can control the pace, crowding you towards the bed until the back of your knees make contact with it and you fall onto the mattress. Yoongi cages you in with his arms and keeps kissing you, though when you palm him through his slacks he hisses through his teeth.

"Want you, Yoongi." You use your hand to stroke over the hardness of him as you nip at his lower lip. "Please."

"Fuck, of course, babygirl." Yoongi leans back and you move with him, sitting up as he stands straight. He unbuttons his shirt and you help him slide it off his shoulders, using it as an excuse to run your hands over the pale skin he reveals to you, sliding your palms down his chest and over his stomach; you dip your head to kiss where your hands have traced, letting your tongue flick across his skin. You lick shamelessly at one of his nipples and feel drunk on the way he lets out a surprised little breath, turning your head to do the same to his other nipple as your hands finally reach their goal: his belt.

You deftly unbuckle it, fast enough that the leather makes a snapping noise when you pull it, and Yoongi bites back a laugh— under normal circumstances you might be embarrassed by how obvious you're being, but you're desperate to finally touch him, especially after he'd made you cum as hard as he had. You look up at him as you reach for his zipper but falter when you notice that he's staring at you with something akin to awe, lifting your lips off his skin.

"What?" You ask, suddenly feeling shy.

Yoongi doesn't respond verbally. Instead, he quirks a little grin at you before he cups your face with both hands and bends down to kiss you again, deeper and slower than he has before. You match his pace, the two of you tilting your heads to get a little closer, but when you continue to pull Yoongi's zip down he laughs against your lips and you smile. He gets the hint, stepping back so he has room to kick his trousers and underwear off; he's not trying to be sensual about it, moving fast so he can get close to you again, but you're enraptured nonetheless.

You swallow at the sight of his cock when it’s finally freed. It's flushed red from neglect, fully hardened, curving up towards his stomach, and you can see how the head glistens with precum, slick and wet. Saliva floods your mouth. Yoongi looks briefly startled when you put your hands against his hips and lightly push him backwards, but then you slide off the bed and onto your knees in front of him and the shock immediately disappears from his face, tangling a hand in your hair as you settle in place.

He's so hard that you don't feel like teasing him. Instead, you take the precum that's gathered at the tip of his cock and rub it down his length, hand wrapping around and twisting as you dip forwards and take the flushed head into your mouth. You can't swallow him all the way down, thanks to your gag reflex, but you give it a damn good go— you relax your throat as much as you can as you lower your head, using your hand to touch the parts of his cock that aren't in your mouth. You tongue at the vein on the underside as you lift back up, using your free hand to cup his balls, and Yoongi curses, his hand tightening in your hair as he pulls you off.

You blink up at him in surprise, mouth still open after he's slid out of your mouth— you feel like you'd barely started— and you can see how his cock twitches as he drinks the sight of you in.

"That mouth of yours is downright sinful," he says, running his thumb over your lower lip. You go lax under his touch, which seems to please him. "As much as I'd like to cum down your throat, I think you want something else instead, don't you, babygirl?"

Your breath shudders out of you and you nod. You want Yoongi's cock inside you, itching for him to finally fuck you stupid, the way you've been yearning for so long. "God, yes, please."

Yoongi's lips twitch at your shameless desperation. "Stand up then, baby," he says, and you comply. "Turn around."

You turn towards the bed to show Yoongi your back, and he slowly unzips your dress; it slides off your shoulders easily, slipping down your body and pooling on the floor as Yoongi drags his hands over the revealed skin. You tremble under his touch, sensitive to each of his motions as he unclasps your bra, and finally you're entirely unclothed, lingerie carelessly tossed to one side before Yoongi pulls you close.

Your back is pressed to his chest, and you can feel the heat and hardness of his cock pressing against you, but you forget about that when his hands move to cup your breasts, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. You tilt your head back against his shoulder and he takes the opportunity to kiss down your neck, using his tongue to lick down the bared length of it, and your breath hitches in your throat as he pinches one of your nipples between his fingers, the perfect mix of careful roughness.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Yoongi breathes into the crook of your neck. You whimper and grind back against him, feeling the wetness of his cock as it slips against your skin, and he bites back a groan.

"Yoongi, I need you," you say, so close to finally getting what you've been craving for so long. "Please," you add, voice high with desperation.

You feel how Yoongi bares his teeth against your skin in a silent snarl before he's turning you around in his arms, and you squeal in surprise as he hitches you upwards onto the bed, your head falling onto the pillows. It wasn't a rough motion, Yoongi still careful even when he's clearly as hungry for you as you are for him, but you find yourself whimpering at how he's manhandled you, loving it. Seems like he's helping you discover things about yourself that you hadn't realised before now.

Yoongi settles between your legs, staring down at you, bare and helpless underneath him. You reach out your hand to touch his chest, sweeping your fingers down the line of his stomach and over the trail of dark hair that leads down to his weeping cock, still shining with your spit. He curses, leaning over you to paw at his nightstand drawer; he fumbles with the lube and condom when you wrap your fingers around his length again, stroking him hard and slow.

"Yoongi, please," you say again, practically begging, wanting him inside you as quickly as possible. He curses under his breath again but then wraps his fingers around yours, pulling your hand off his cock. You pout at him. "I've been a good girl, haven't I?"

"Good girls are patient." Yoongi leans back on his heels and you make a small whining noise, but you quieten when you watch him rip open the condom packet; you reach forward again to help him roll it down his cock, wanting to keep the feeling of his hardness and heat under your touch, but he fixes you with a stern gaze. "Hands."

You pause, wondering exactly what he means. You settle on pulling your hands away and stretch up to let them rest on the pillow above you. You must have done the right thing because Yoongi smiles, and you give a squirm of delight. He shifts closer and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, turning his head to kiss your inner ankle.

"So perfect," he says, and you squirm again, pleased. He reaches for the bottle of lube and uncaps it with a quiet click, drizzling it directly onto his cock and biting back a noise at the coldness of it— but then he squirts more into his hands, warming it between his fingers. You make a small questioning sound, and Yoongi smiles before kissing your ankle again. "This is for you, baby."

Your eyebrows raise in quiet surprise. You're already so wet, dripping with a mix of your own cum and Yoongi's lingering spit, but he's still being this careful and considerate. He dips his slick fingers between your flushed lips and draws them upwards, making you arch your back as he grazes over your pearl of nerves, pleasure shooting directly into your core.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp. "God, please, Yoongi, please."

"I've got you, babygirl," he murmurs, and you marvel at his self control, his restraint even now. He grips your leg with one hand and uses the other to guide himself into you. Finally. You moan as he sinks in, stretching you, slowly pushing in inch by inch; you can feel the way your walls stretch, parting for him, until he's bottomed out, and you feel so full.

"Holy shit, Yoongi." You've moved your hands and you're digging your nails into his back, trying to pull him closer even though it's not possible, Yoongi's cock so long that you can feel it filling you completely. "Oh, God."

Yoongi's fringe is hanging in his eyes but you can see how his pupils have almost swallowed the dark of his irises, the way he's drinking in the sight of you beneath him— your pupils are blown too, hair a messy halo against the pillows, nipples hard from arousal, chest heaving as you hiccup in air. He pulls out, just as slowly as he'd pushed in, the drag of his cock against your inner walls sending electricity shooting through your nerves; he stops before he's completely out, only the head of him still inside you, and you bite your lip in anticipation, waiting for the next slow thrust in.

You're completely blindsided when Yoongi snaps his hips forward suddenly, fucking sharply into you, and you choke on a surprised breath. He sets a brutal pace, the sound of his skin slapping against yours almost drowned out by the way you wail. Your hands fall away from his back and to the sheets, fingers gripping at them, twisting under your hands. His brows are drawn together with focus, but when you raise a hand up to touch his face he goes easily, letting your leg slip off his shoulder so he can kiss you.

His motions slow somewhat as you kiss each other, but he keeps the roll of his hips just as deep, and you end up all but panting against his mouth instead of kissing him; he swipes his tongue across your lips and you let them fall open so he can lick into your mouth, sloppy and wet. You can feel an orgasm building again, surprisingly fast— especially as he's not even touching your clit— and you clench around him, wanting to hit that peak again.

Yoongi stops kissing you to rest his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as he slows his thrusts, grinding into you each time he pushes all the way in, hips flush with yours. "Such a good girl." His voice is a low rasp, dark and heavy. "So pretty for me."

Yes, yes, yes. "Wanna be your good girl," you breathe. "Make you feel as good as you make me feel."

Yoongi actually growls, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you up. You grab his shoulders for support, legs spreading so that your knees hit the mattress, his cock still inside you as you look down at him, both of you kneeling now. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, stomachs flush, and Yoongi grinds up into you. His hands slide from your waist, to your ass, fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you up; the change of angle has the curve of his cock dragging right across your sweet spot and you gasp. "Oh, yes, there, just like that."

You press down as Yoongi's hips snap up, and you can feel how his motions are starting to get a little jerkier, staccato, the way he speeds up. With the drag of your nipples against his chest, and the way he's hitting your g-spot dead on each time, you're close to hitting your peak, pleasure riding up into a crescendo— and then Yoongi slides one of his hands between the two of you to rub at your clit and you're gone again, gasping and shaking as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, all the air escaping your lungs in a drawn out, shuddering wail.

"Fuck, baby." Yoongi's motions grow a little more hurried and sloppy, thrusting up into you as your walls pulsate around him. You try to match his pace, drinking down the way his face twists as he chases his own release— and then his grip on you grows tight enough to bruise and he cums with a surprisingly quiet moan. He grinds upwards, his cock twitching inside you as he empties himself into the condom; you shiver at the sensation, squeezing your legs around his hips in an instinctive attempt to draw him as deeply into you as possible, as futile as that is.

Your legs are shaking. You remain tangled around each other, sweaty and panting, but then Yoongi is grasping your chin and tilting your head down so that he can kiss you. It's soft, and gentle, and you melt into it, going lax and boneless in his hold as you tighten your hands in his hair.

You feel how he smiles tiredly against your lips, and when you pull back, he looks thoroughly fucked out; his hair is a mess from how you've been running your hands through it and lips are kiss swollen, parted so that he can suck air in and try to catch his breath. You must look similarly wrecked. You feel hazy, though Yoongi feels solid beneath you, grounding you as you slowly come back to yourself.

"I'm going to lean you back, beautiful," he says, and you entwine your fingers together behind his neck so that he can tilt you onto the mattress, careful and reverent. He slips his softening cock out of you and you let out a small sigh at the sudden feeling of emptiness, though as soon as he's done tying the condom off and throwing it in the bin he comes back to you, lightly kissing you as he draws a hand gently between the valley of your breasts. Despite the tenderness behind the motion you're suddenly struck with wondering if he's about to ask you to leave, but then he asks: "Do you want to come wash up?"

You pause. "Oh, God, my makeup," you say with sudden realisation as your fingers come up to touch under your eyes. Your eyeshadow and mascara must be a mess by now. You splay your hand across your face, as if trying to hide it— which you know is stupid, especially considering the fact the rest of your body is naked under Yoongi's gaze. He huffs out a laugh and takes your hands with his own, pulling them away. "Nooo," you whine. "Don't look at me."

One of Yoongi's eyebrows rises. "Why would I ever want to look away from you?"

You wriggle. "Yoongi," you whine again, equal parts pleased and embarrassed, but you let your hands go limp and Yoongi pulls you to your feet. "You're shameless."

"And you're gorgeous," he says, simply. "Come on, you'll get cold."

Yoongi lets you clean up first. It's weird how comfortable you are as you navigate your way around Yoongi and Jin's bathroom— you pilfer one of Jin's makeup wipes to clean your face— and how natural it feels to accept the shirt Yoongi gives you, an oversized, stretched-out old thing that's gone soft from years of wear. You're perched on the bathroom counter as you slide it on, glancing down at the design on the front, and you instantly perk up when you see what it is.

"You do love Kumamon," you say with delight.

Yoongi stops in the middle of brushing his teeth, looking a little ridiculous with the minty froth around his lips but still just as kissable. He rinses his mouth and spits, wiping his lips with a towel before he makes a face at you.

"Jin told you about that, too?"

"I want to see your slippers," you say in reply and Yoongi groans. You can't help but giggle, feeling sleepy and soft and affectionate, and you touch your fingers under Yoongi's chin so that you can press a quick kiss to his lips. "I think it's cute."

By the time you've both finished your ablutions and you slide off the counter, you feel tired, what little energy you had after being fucked by Yoongi completely gone from you; you slide onto Yoongi's bed gratefully, glad to be off your feet. You hold your hands up and beckon for him to join you, but then let out a sharp laugh of surprise when he tugs his rumpled blanket off the bed from underneath you and lets it drop to the floor. "Yoongi!"

"I'll be right back," he says. While you wait, you decide to stretch, eyes slipping shut as you extend your limbs. You know you'll feel the ache between your legs tomorrow, a little thrill skating through you at the knowledge that Yoongi's touch has left a physical reminder, something only you can feel and no one else can see.

When your eyes flutter open again, you see Yoongi standing at the bottom of the bed, a different blanket gathered in his arms. He's staring at you, and you realise that the material of his shirt has moved as you've stretched, hitching up over your hips. Even though you're both tired, Yoongi's eyes still darken when you shift your legs, and you bask under his attention.

"A different blanket?" You ask, curious, and Yoongi's eyes slide away from your still-bare core back up to your face.

"It's Jin's," he says. "I wasn't about to let you sleep on sweaty sex sheets."

"I don't mind," you say, honestly, but Yoongi proceeds to lay Jin's blanket across the bed anyway. "Jin's not going to be happy about this," you add, but you say it with a laugh, instantly curling up into Yoongi when he lays down beside you.

"He'll live." Yoongi's arm comes around you, fingers trailing over your shoulder; you lapse into silence and let your eyes shut, focusing on Yoongi's movements. It feels like he’s pressing piano keys down and playing a silent song against your skin. You can't help but smile, starting to drift off, when Yoongi speaks again. "Let me take you out for breakfast."

"Hm?" Your eyes open and you blink away your sleepiness to look up at Yoongi, who's still watching you. "Breakfast?"

"Yes." Yoongi's fingers still on your shoulder, and then he slides his hand down to tangle your fingers with his. "Or lunch. Or dinner. Whichever you prefer." He pauses. "Unless you don't want to," he says, and though his voice stays steady, you see a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. He's worried that you've gotten what you want and now you'll be done with him.

"You're so silly," you say softly, and you can see how Yoongi's face twists with confusion, unsure about how to react to being called silly— you can't imagine many people have said that to him, as outwardly intimidating as he can be. You squeeze his hand. "Of course I want to. But how about we plan it tomorrow? I don't know how long it's going to take me to be comfortable with walking in a straight line, so breakfast might be off the cards for now."

After a moment, Yoongi's face takes on a satisfied expression. "That's what you said you wanted," he says, and you huff out an amused breath.

"I technically said I wanted you to bend me over a piano, actually," you point out, letting your head settle in the crook of his neck again, and Yoongi brushes his lips against your forehead.

"There's a piano in the living room," he states casually, and you can't help the shiver that runs through you, even as your eyes start to fall shut again.

"I'll keep that in mind."

–

jiminnie y/n!! tae said you called in sick for work? are you okay??

you i'm good! just a lil busy

jiminnie with what?

you [image attached]

jiminnie … why have you sent me a photo of a piano?

you yoongi's gonna fuck me on it omg on that note i've gtg BYE LOVE YOU MINNIE xoxoxo

jiminnie WHAT??? OMG??? GET THAT DICK QUEEN!!!

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts x reader #bts smut #suga x reader #joy.masterlist

3K notes · View notes