#which just goes to show that my taste != my readers' taste lol
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Based on a scene from "Letters"
Read it on Ao3 here!
#cinder fics#cinder art#twin princes#this concludes the last of the creative energy I have for the princes so there will be no more art or fic about them created by me#I was originally trying to do a piece based on the final chapter meeting in the graveyard but I scrapped that quickly#so instead I decided to go more abstract and also use my favorite line I wrote#which is ironically from my favorite chapter I wrote? or second favorite? and it remains the only ch with 0 comments lmao#which just goes to show that my taste != my readers' taste lol
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BasketBALLS
Kim Mingyu x Male Reader
cw: top mingyu, praise kink, protected sex, body worship, friends with benefits, pet names, some fluff sprinkled at the end, a bit of size kink, unrealistic amounts of cum lol, rimjob.
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through the semesters he studied in the university, mingyu has stood out as one of the best basketball players. he dominates the ball completely and is a good leader who listens to his teammates, which has helped them achieve victory on many occasions. that, in addition to his good physique and cold personality, makes many people admire him and aspire to be like him some day. however, when he is with yn, his best friend, he changes completely. goes from being a big fierce wolf to an adorable little puppy.
their relationship went quickly from friends to friends with benefits when they found out they share some things in common.. and that they're both horny bitches who shared a dorm.
in the rehearsals mingyu’s eyes were glued towards yn while playing with the ball trying to get his attention, “how was that, you like it” he asks yn with so much joy on him that the other can almost see little stars glowing on his eyes and around his face, “yes you were perfect gyu.. like you always are” yn pets his head and cheeks “you're so handsome” he later adds.
the basketball game continued, at the end mingyu's team won as expected, "hey mingyu, let's go celebrate" said one of his teammates, "umm well it's that... i'm feeling very tired… so you guys can go without me"; "okay captain but if you want to join us later we will be at the same bar as always" mingyu nods and then turns around and looks for yn, his eyes showed that he is hungry for pleasure, the excitement of the game going straight towards his cock, thank god his underwear was able to hide his erection well. both made eye contact, with just doing that yn knew what mingyu wanted and he willingly would give him that.
“fuck, you always hit the right spots” yn said in between moans and pants, “of course i havw to please my baby” he keeps on thrusting, the mixture of the condom's texture, his hips movements and the almost slow thrusts makes yn go crazy, mingyu definitely knows how to use his dick.
yn's hands went up and down mingyu's body, tracing every bulging muscle of his big arms, caressing his big chest and toned abs. “you're like a greek god gyu~ look at this amazing body.. a pretty boy with a pretty body”. yn lift himself up with his arms and started kissing the other's collarbones and chest, whispering sweet nothings to his ear, things like “sexy boy”; “you're being such a good boy for me”; “you look so hot all sweaty while playing basketball” turn mingyu on and tn knows it because he can feel his dick throbbing and growing inside him.
“am i being a good boy for ynnie?” mi gyu pouts while showering the other's neck with kisses and hickeys, “yes you are.. you know how to make me feel good.. you're amazing gyu.. i'm so proud of you~”.
mingyu lay down while yn took off the condom and began to masturbate him, "come on, mingyu, flex those arms for me" the bigger one obeyed. yn began to kiss each muscle. his tongue went from his armpit to his hand, tracing each vein with it, “you taste so good, i can't get enough of you” he said in almost a whisper tone “and you make me feel so good” mingyu added and the both kissed. some oiled were poured on gyu's body, yn straddle him and started massaging his torso “i love these tits, so fucking huge” he said while playing with them,groping them, slapping it gently, make them jiggle using his fingers or cuping them both with both his hands. he also pinches the nipples and occasionally kiss them or bite them.
moving onto his arms and abs he just again traced then with his fingers and gave them a quick massage. moving now to the legs yn grabbed each thigh and kissed them “i wish one day you crush my head with these” yn jokes. “not gonna lie that would be pretty hot, watching you squirm between my thighs” mingyu commented and seeing how close yn's ass was against his mouth he just started to suck it.
“now let's resume where we were before” yn slides down a condom with his mouth down mingyu's shaft and ride him. mingyu guided his ass using his big hands “this sloppy ass knows how to take dick so well”.
“you trained it so well” yn replies “fuck, i'm cumming” white sticky ropes were shooted on mingyu's bed sheets while the top came inside the condom still insidd yn moaning and grunting loudly like an animal. fucking with yn was one of the things mingyu enjoyed the most it was sensual and sexual, an undescribable pleasure that only them can give to each other.
mingyu struggle to pulled it out, it seems that he came a lot and the condom got stuck. and as ifni it was some kind of anal beads mingyu pulled it out slowly wanting to see his hole opening and closing with the cum-filled condom.
“so hot” mingyu says kissing one of yn's ass cheeks, let's take a shower.
in the shower they both rubbed and scrubbed each other's bodies, applied shampoo and soap as if they were a couple. “you know i've been thinking something” yn says with some concern in his voice, “what is it?” mingyu asks. “i just.. don't want to ruin the moment gyu…”; “just tell me ynnie it's ok”. “i-i think i'm in … love with you gyu” yn hides his face, tears threatening to roll down his eyes, he was getting ready to be rejected but instead he felt a pair of hands cupping his cheeks and a sweet, delicate kiss meeting his lips, “i love you too, i was planning to tell you later but you got ahead” he laughs showing that pretty smile, “come here give me a kiss”.
yn and mingyu kissed and hugged celebrating their new relationship, one must say they're probably the happiest people on earth right now.
#mingyu x male reader smut#kim mingyu x male reader smut#mingyu x male reader#kim mingyu x male reader#kim mingyu smut#mingyu smut#male reader#kpop x male reader#kpop x male reader smut#smut#male reader smut#seventeen x male reader
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busted (3tan) (m) | myg
title: busted
pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) , jungkook x reader(f)
series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call
rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au
summary: when things go a bit south at your house party, decisions between you and yoongi have to be made.
note: well. here we are, y’all. it’s been quite a long time, but we are back to regularly scheduled programming :’)) thank you to everyone that has supported and encouraged me throughout this whole process – and series, for that matter. i couldn’t have done this without y’all and the next part is already in the works. also i cried a lot writing this lol have fun!
note 2: happy birthday, hedgehog! and to colourless and nicki and whoever else had birthdays recently, consider this my gift to y’all!
warnings: language, the amount of content itself fck i’m so sorry, parties, alcohol consumption, tense situations, shoving, abandonment mentions (parental), obligatory yoongi on the phone, ch*king, head/hair pulling, reader has a pain kink and it shows oops, angst, overthinking :((, penetrative s*x, chains but come on now, protective s*x, cowgirl, or*l (m/f rec), edg*ng a ha ha, thro*tf*cking, kissing :’))), kissing D:, did i say angst?, bro😵💫, but also bro😭, jungkook gets a warning too, yoongi’s jeans are as ripped as he is heyo, hitting from the b b back, yoongi king of consent sheesh, multiple org*sms, spitting lmfao, sl*t/wh*re mentions, yoongi jfc lol, the aftercare y’all i–😭, the ending🧍
drop date: june 9th, 2023, 7:17pm est
word count: 18.8k gdi
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Here goes nothing and everything.
It was fifteen years ago when you first met Jungkook. When the sidewalks in your neighborhood were fewer and the occupancy in your house was higher.
A tiny boy, he was immediately ready to stay by your side, despite the limited amount of time he got to hang around before his parents corralled his energy back inside their car.
Later on, he would tell you that had something to do with them not wanting him influenced by your brother and his group. But you didn’t know that at the time.
Ever since the two of you met, you became the best of friends. And as you grew older, it was only natural that feelings bloomed with everything else.
In the midst of an ever changing garden, you found something that never wavered, vibrant in color and immovable at its root.
Which was strange. You’d never compared people to flora before him.
But, because of Jungkook, you couldn’t help but see everyone as such—lilies, buttercups, the ones that trap to survive.
And he was the prettiest, strongest flower of them all.
There was rain. There were storms. But with them came hope, and a pair of cheap rings that the two of you bought nestled nicely in boxes, waiting to be unearthed when you were ready.
However.
What also came was a lesson. One that you would learn again when two of every seat remained unused in your household.
A lesson that people are more like seasons than flowers.
They change with or without you.
And they pass by.
“We can go somewhere quieter if you want,” Jungkook offers. And you know he’s going to suggest your room before he even utters the words.
But of course he adds a small, “If I’m allowed in there anymore.”
When he laughs, your smile is as slow as your head shake, a few memories of old tasting bittersweet on your tongue. “We can.”
“Okay.”
When you make your way to your room, you hear the thumps of music and rhythms of conversation—both casual and loud—echoing throughout the house. Some people are sharing laughs, others are scooting just a bit closer, and a lucky one is cackling before demanding that everyone hand over their money.
All of them oblivious to the fact that you’re about to rip off a piece of your heart.
Well. That may not be the case. But based on the conversation that you had with Jungkook before your interview, this wasn’t going to be an easy one in the slightest—not for him, nor for you.
But if he’s gonna keep pushing forward, this is a stop you need to put up regardless.
During a party isn’t what you had in mind, though. Much less one in your own house.
You don’t know if anyone sees you open your door for Jungkook to pass through, or if they notice the slump of your mood, but you figure no one will care anyways.
Until you see someone out of the corner of your peripheral.
And the skip of your heart tells you who it is.
Occupying one of the hallways a ways away, you can tell he’s very aware of you despite being in the middle of a chatty group.
But what’s on his mind? Is he worried? Is he gonna ask what this is about?
Damn it. You’re just gonna have to tell him later. You can’t exactly do anything now.
A voice peeps from behind your tense shoulders,
“You okay?”
Fuck.
Turning, you nod to the boy in your room before shutting your door, giving one more look to the man whose last text you couldn’t read.
And the way he stares makes you wanna bolt from everyone entirely.
When your door clicks shut, you slowly swivel, only the bass of your brother’s music pushing the walls in closer.
Jungkook’s doing exactly what you knew he’d do, wandering around your room and either leaning in to observe, or lightly touching things that he remembers.
The soft puff of a laugh snaps you into focus. “I can’t believe you still have all his medals up.”
Ah. He even remembers the way you have all your brother’s trophies and achievements displayed—all because you liked seeing them shine, and he didn’t want them in his room.
Sweeping your gaze along two of your walls, you let out a tiny sound of amusement while agreeing, “I can. Too lazy to take them down.”
“I can do it,” he immediately responds. “If you need me to.”
If it had been five years ago, you would’ve been enamored that he even offered.
But five years ago is when he shattered any hopes you had for the two of you, so you turn him down yet again. “It’s okay.”
“You sure?”
“We’re here to talk, not decorate, Jungkook.”
He stares before nodding in dejection, eyes finding something other than you. “It’s still weird to hear you say my name.”
It’s weird to say it.
But you can’t let him know you agree, so the sound you make is half-cautious and weakly lighthearted. “You think so?”
“Ah, yeah.” He flashes a smile that still squeezes air from your lungs. “I’d gotten too used to all the names you had for me.”
“Oh, god.”
“But I guess someone else gets to hear them now.”
Goddamn it. He’s not gonna give up, just like he said right before your interview.
“Who are you seeing?”
“Kook…”
“I wanna know.”
“Why?”
He walks over to your nightstand, picking up a picture of you and your friends from years back.
And your heart pangs at how big his back has become.
Without turning, Jungkook lifts his head to stare at your ceiling. And if he’s wondering whether the glow stars he stuck all over it are still there or not, you don’t know if you’d admit that you never took them down.
“So that I’d know if I still have a chance.”
“You already had yours,” you whisper. “Remember?”
And when you look up, he’s already staring at you with regret.
Memories start to come back, but you shove them away with force, trying to empty your sinking boat with a teaspoon.
Every time he had walked back from school with you, every time he would make you laugh when you felt alone, every time he stayed at your place when your brother had to be out—all of them competed with each other to punch you in the gut and push you to your knees.
“I do,” is all he says before softly placing the frame on your bed. “I fucked that up, didn’t I.”
The times he said he’d be there when you needed him, the times he said it was gonna be okay when you struggled with your seemingly deepest darkest secrets.
All the times you knew you’d have a long future with him.
“You did.”
Everything leading up to the time he said you should break up before you left for university.
Right before you were going to tell him you loved him.
Your heart hasn’t beat in awhile, but you don’t notice until Jungkook starts walking towards your planted feet. Was he really so far away? How did he cover the distance between so fast?
With a sigh occupying your chest, you muse that he looks so different, but also not different at all.
And just like the time you saw him downtown, your brain doesn’t know how to separate the Jungkook you knew from the one you see in front of you.
Because they are still the same.
You don’t budge as he stands resolute, inches away but encasing you in his familiar presence. When his hand comes up to your face, he almost touches—but the slight hesitation has you holding your breath before he surrenders his hand at his side.
“I was an idiot,” he admits, throat seemingly small and making yours the same size. “I never should’ve… I can’t believe I…”
You watch as he flips his head up, and you hate how you know exactly what he’s trying to hide.
But your soul still remembers the wound it was dealt. So while you don’t want him feeling this way, you’re perfectly okay to fight back.
He doesn’t get to cry when he’s the reason for all those tears.
“And yet you did,” you remind him, proud of how stable your voice leaves lips that used to seek his. “And you left me so fucking confused.”
“I know.”
“Do you really?”
He flickers regretful eyes your way, giving you all the room to talk.
And you’re going to.
“Do you actually know, Kook? How fucked up that made me feel right before going where I knew nobody. No one.”
His nostrils flare while eyebrows flinch.
You expel a tough breath, everything that happened before bubbling up to the surface. The nights you spent wondering what happened, the days you spent feeling unwanted, the times you felt so fucking alone.
“Is it true that you even loved me?”
“Yes,” he finally shatters, face contorting and eyes welling at their rims. “Of course I did.”
Did.
“I still do.”
Liar.
“I thought I was the only one.” You search his eyes, hating how you would comfort him in an instant if this were any other circumstance. Hating, hating, loathing that this is how you find out your love wasn’t unrequited. “Why did you push me away?”
“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to…” He turns, unable to handle the loud silence streaming from your bones. Voice shaken, he flounders, “I don’t know. I’ve—”
When he pauses, it’s to keep his lips from shaking. You just know it.
“I’ve regretted it every day since.”
“Bullshit.”
“I have!”
“Really. So all those texts you never sent were full of regret, too, huh?”
“No, I—”
“All those calls you never made.”
“I wanted to call!”
“You wanted nothing to do with me!”
“No! That’s not true—”
“Liar!”
He digs palms into the soaking divots of his face, tense at all angles and making you so, so angry that this is what the both of you have come to.
“I’m not lying!”
“You are!”
You thought it would feel better seeing him cry.
But it’s not, it’s not, it’s not. You hate this.
Because Jungkook made sure your tears were short-lived. Made sure to chase them away every single time—
There’s a rapid twist of your locked doorknob before you hear a shout,
“What the hell’s going on in there!”
Shit, your brother. Were you both yelling?
…Were you both that loud?
“We’re fine!” you shout back, embarrassed that your fight somehow managed to outperform the aux. “It’s okay.”
“Open the door.”
“No.”
“You better be serious—”
“Promise!” You look toward the shouts. “We’re okay.”
“…Okay.”
And then it’s completely silent.
But you know he hasn’t left.
Fuck, he can’t hear the rest of this. He shouldn’t have heard any of it in the first place, and you can feel the heat of his questions coming later tonight.
Which, you are fine answering when it’s just the two of you. But you cannot have anyone hovering right now so you go to open the door and tell him off,
“Dude, I said I’m—”
Oh, fuck.
Yoongi’s right there with him.
And your heart fucking lurches.
Fuck fuck fuck they both see your tears and you’re getting moved aside before you know it now there’s—
“The fuck are you doing making them cry?”
“Wait, it’s not like th—”
“You come into our house after years—”
“Stop!”
“And pull some shit like this?”
Alarmed, you squeeze yourself between him and a very wide-eyed Jungkook, having to wrestle an angry wrist off a captured bicep. “Seriously, relax!”
You and your brother have a thousand differences.
But one thing you two have in common?
He’s just as stubborn as you are.
A strong swipe moves you back so fast that your feet can’t keep up, and you find yourself stumbling until firm hands and familiar cologne keep you upright, voices springing up all at once.
“I’m not—”
“Hey—!”
“The fuck—”
“What’s wrong with you?” you question, commanding attention and snagging both your brother’s and Jungkook’s stares.
Barely even caring if they see where you are and who’s holding you.
Because this is all stupid. It’s not fucking high school and you aren’t some kid that needs their useless, shitty, good-for-nothing parents to stand up for them.
Resisting Yoongi’s grip until he lets go, you stalk up to rip your brother’s hand off your ex’s arm, voice darkened and sharp, “Get out.”
Breath hard, the reply you get is directed more at Jungkook than your own pinched brows,
“Why should I.”
“Cus it’s fine,” you shoot out, sparing a glance at Yoongi and regretting it immediately.
Because he’s not looking at you. He probably wasn’t ever looking at you.
No. Based on that look alone, he’s been eyeing Jungkook with an energy that sends chills straight through your veins.
It’s so unmoving, so infernal that your throat dries, forcing you to swallow before laying more reassurance on three pairs of tense shoulders. “It’s alright, okay? We’re just talking.”
“…So it’s like that?”
Jungkook immediately replies to your sibling with a monotone, “Of course it is.”
To which he moves forward again before you stop him with a hand and a shout,
“The fuck it isn’t—”
“It is! Fucking hell, dude...”
You force an exhale, hating how your room is overflowing while you’re still drowning in the conversation prior.
Because now one talk is gonna sprout into three, and you already dread what each one is going to look like when it develops.
You hope Jungkook understands that you’re done.
You hope your brother understands that you’re tired.
And, above all the others, you hope to any high power out there that Yoongi understands that you are anything but finished.
When the tension doesn’t budge, you sigh and shift your weight.
“Look. We’re just talking. But I need to speak to him alone.” You breathe with finality, eyeing your sibling and his ride or die—hating and loving how ready they are to do whatever they need to, together.
But they don’t have to do anything.
Except let you do this yourself.
“Please.”
After a moment, they both look over your shoulder before your brother watches your face again.
But Yoongi seems to have finally caught Jungkook’s attention, because his eyes haven’t broken their lock until you say something,
“Trust me.”
Two weighty seconds pass before both men nod. And they leave without a word, emotions toppling on each other as soon as your door shuts.
When you walk up to lock it shut, you stare at the knob in silence.
While that was massively uncalled for, it could’ve gone much worse. You can already think of over a hundred outcomes, because that’s a look you’ve seen on your brother many times.
However. That’s not what has you lost in thought.
What keeps you frozen is the fact that you have never seen Yoongi like that.
It almost scared you, but somehow comforts you all the same. You can still feel the way he subtly squeezed you in assurance, pressing you into him when you really didn’t fall that far. There’s a jittering in your chest that hasn’t simmered, and it makes you feel like you’re halfway floating back to where Jungkook stands.
But you’re promptly grounded when you rejoin him, voice soft when you ask if he’s okay.
“He hasn’t changed,” is all he whispers.
And you look at the door with a sigh of disappointment. “He has a little. Still uptight as ever, but. At least I can leave the house.”
“Yoongi was a surprise.”
Oxygen abandons your lungs before you quickly catch yourself. “They’re best friends.”
Jungkook glares at the floor in thought before exhaling, and his silence seems charged. Almost off.
“Right.”
…Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?
Is it because he saw when Yoongi caught you? Or the fact that he showed up at all?
“Hey,” you whisper, hoping to rope him away from whatever scary things he could be pondering. When he flicks his attention to you, it takes a lot to not flinch at his watery eyes. “Ignore them. We aren’t finished here.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and your conversation jumps right back to where it was. “For everything.”
“I know.” You close your eyes before sadness lowers your gaze. “But it’s gonna hurt for awhile.”
Even if you get this closure, it can’t cover all the years he made you doubt yourself. Made you feel like everything you went through was a lie and that love was something you just didn’t deserve. Confidence vaporized as a result, leaving nothing but issues and manufactured intimacy for years.
Maybe that’s why everyone said you were a bad lay before. Because you actually were.
Through your thick haze, you hear a faint, broken,
“You loved me?”
“I…” Don’t say it. Don’t tell him. “I still do.”
“What?”
Fuck.
It’s true. While he broke your heart first, he still cared for it more than anyone else after him had—until recently. The only grief he gave you was the breakup, which was why it threw you for an absolute loop.
As you grew up, though, you started to rationalize that the split was a good decision. He was moving, and you were leaving for college. How would you both have fared with the long distance? It probably would have ended one way or the other anyways.
So while the resentment burned your heart, it didn’t quite rid you of affection. What you feel as a result is similar to before, but so very, very different. Subdued. Faded. Like jeans you wore constantly but haven’t touched in years.
In all honesty, what broke you the hardest was losing a dear friend.
“I do,” you finally admit, not looking at him because of your next words, “But not the way you want me to.”
Jungkook doesn’t respond, letting the outside world bleed into the room like a bitter interlude.
When he still makes no sound, you lift weary eyes to check on him.
And your chest constricts at the way he looks utterly and totally lost.
When you call his name, his gaze doesn’t leave the floor. When you whisper it again, the tear that falls makes you weak. “Kook, what’s wrong?”
He finally looks up, and you feel your eyes quickly reflect his. “I was so stupid,” he sniffles, wiping his nose. “I really didn’t know. Honestly, I knew that was impossible.”
For some reason, this makes you chuckle, and a new mood starts to paint the walls. “Why?”
“Because you were so cool.” His smile hasn’t changed. And that’s what cuts the deepest. “And I was just there because I always was.”
“What?” You start to join him in bittersweet recollection, albeit from a different perspective. When you reach forward to point at his necklace—because you will not touch the ring—you softly laugh. “Then what were these for, silly?”
When he sighs, you can feel the cracks in his curve. “I’ve been told that I’m clueless.”
“You are,” you say with a sagging grin. “Extremely.”
He laughs again. So do you.
And the both of you break all at once.
He’s crushing you in a hug and you’re crying into his clothes, hands gripping at his jacket and shoulder feeling the weight of his world.
While he repeats that he’s sorry, you choke out that you are, too. When he says it was never your fault, you cry even harder.
You fucking hate this. Now that you know the truth, it hurts that much worse. You hate, hate, hate that this is what everything came to. Everything that you both went through, destroyed by one mistake at the bitter end.
But you need to move on. You need to sacrifice the past for the future.
“I still love you,” he whispers, and you tense when he tightens his arms. “And I’m still sorry.”
“You idiot,” you cry into his chest, and you hear him hold back a sob before burying his head again.
And the two of you stay like that. One last embrace that you both needed.
Reminiscing over everything that doesn’t matter anymore.
When you both calm, you feel like it’s been hours.
But you move to step away first, confused at the way he doesn’t let you leave.
What’s he doing? Why is his mouth hovering over yours? You need to move. You need to move away.
But all you can do is plead, “I can’t.”
Still, Jungkook moves in.
Leaning to kiss just next to your lips instead.
What once would have lit your soul on fire now feels like a tempered flame, the smallest light of a candle before it burns out. And you’re grateful that he respects you enough to not push in a time of weakness.
You move away again, and he lets you go this time. But not without last words, “Promise me this person is alright.”
“I promise.”
“Only alright? I have a chance then.”
“Kook.” When you give him an empty glare, dying stars still linger in his eyes. “Friends?”
His lips give away his breaking heart before he nods. “I’m not leaving you again.”
Swallowing, you spread a thankful smile. “You better not,” you sniffle. “I need to decorate.”
He huffs, giving you one more teary stare. “If they ever hurt you, let me know.”
“I’ll be okay.”
After a noncommittal nod, he stands until you politely tell him you need a minute. When he leaves, you wait until the door shuts before wiping nothing from your cheek.
Wondering why this closure doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest.
You don’t know how long it’s been. Time doesn’t exactly flow when you’re caught between the past and the present.
But when you open your door, Dom is watching you with pure, unadulterated focus.
And your face scrunches in pain before she ushers you back inside.
She doesn’t say anything as you sit on your bed, offering her shoulder even though she doesn’t prefer physical contact.
While you’re grateful—so, so thankful for her presence—intermittent sniffles are the only sound you’re capable of.
Until you stabilize and come up for air, fishing words from your river of grief, “Remember what I told you. When he broke up with me.”
Anger simmers in her reply as her shoulder moves under your chin. You assume by the movements that she’s typing something on her phone—or prepping for revenge, either one of the two. “I do.”
“He said he still loves me.”
Your first thought is proven correct as a device plops onto your comforter. “Bullshit.”
“Dom…”
“What? Like he loved you then, too?” She scoffs. “You were the one that loved him and he cut you out. He needs to get over that.”
“He said it was a mistake.”
“It sure as fuck was.”
“I dunno. Something just doesn’t sit right.” You swipe at your nose. “He looked so.. I just…”
“Uh uh. It’s too fresh.” She gently lifts your heavy cloud off her person, firm fingers squeezing out rain. “You gotta get out of your own damn head right now.”
“I know.”
“Now.”
You break into another sob, hiccuping before nodding. “It just sucks, Dom. I d—”
“Look, I get that. But everything you’re thinking about already happened. It’s done.” A glance is thrown behind her back before she swivels around. “Focus on what you have now.”
In your moments of weakness, you ask the dumbest things,
“What do I have now.”
As always, Dominique is quick and to the point. “A man that’s waiting outside your door.”
Huh?
Your eyes flash up to hers as she stands. “Wait, what?”
What did she say? What does she mean? How does she know that what’s going on—
“One minute,” she warns, far away and not to you. “Then you’re on your own.”
“K.”
Wait, what.
You don’t even realize you’re vacating your bed as you see him walk in, nodding back at Dom closing the door before regarding your wreck of a face.
His name is molasses on your tongue.
What is he doing? Isn’t the party still on? Why is he walking closer?
He’s not supposed to be in here he can’t be here and you’re telling him that but he pulls you in so tight that the rest of your tears rain down in sheets.
“Fuck,” is all you can manage now, and he crushes you in even harder, as if he wants you pressed against all of him forever like a keepsake leaf on a journal page.
Your voice writes words into his clothes, silence his only reply but the only one you need.
Even if you only get a minute, this is enough. It’s enough, not enough, enough.
When he holds you at arm’s length, his question comes out a bit fast-paced, “What happened?”
Damn it. As much as you should probably tell him, you use precious seconds to pause, not really knowing if you want to or not.
“Don’t sweat it,” he quickly understands, kissing your forehead just as chaste. When he moves again, you catch the tension in his shoulders, notice the ruffles in his hair. “You gonna be okay?”
“Yes. No.” Fuck, he kinda looks as rattled as you feel. What is happening right now? “I just, umm. I need a minute.”
“You don’t have to go back out there, you know.”
“But you do,” you counter. “And I just wanna see you.”
Finally, Yoongi stops, and his whole upper body relaxes at once. A beautiful sound to your ears, amusement huffs out his nose before he mutters, “You can’t keep saying shit like that.”
“But it’s true.”
His chuckle is light, and mischievous eyes find the ground before they lift to yours,
“Makes me wanna take you home.”
Well. You swiftly realize why he doesn’t want you to keep saying certain things. The zing of emotion through your body was definitely uncalled for.
Any other day, you would want this type of conversation to keep going. And maybe you’d be a little coy about it.
But right now, all you are is tired, and your barriers are crumbled enough for a truth to escape.
Resigned, you step closer to wrap his waist in your arms, not caring if he can feel the rapid beats of your heart. “I want you to do that,” you admit, breath warming your face on his already warmer shirt. “All the time.”
“Take you home?”
“Mmhmm.”
Yoongi runs fingers along your arm. “You know I’d do it if I could, doll.”
If you were someone else. If you didn’t have to hide.
If you didn’t have to wait.
At least you don’t have to wait for much longer. Definitely can’t say anything to your brother tonight, but you and Yoongi agreed on after this party. So things will be better from here on out.
But why does he seem so—
You’re spooked by a warning knock on your door, and you flicker eyes to see his filled with something you don’t like.
And the air suddenly shifts to something alarming.
“Listen.”
“Hmm?”
“I know we said we’d say something.”
Oh. You shake your head, already on the same page and liking how in sync you are. “There’s no way. At least, not tonight. Jungkook—”
“It may need to be a bit longer than that.”
Huh.
What does he mean by—
“So you probably won’t see me for awhile.”
You freeze.
So does time.
A minute is no longer enough.
“Yoongi, please—”
“Can you do that?”
Your heart slams against your ribcage, banging and banging and screaming that what he’s asking is not possible.
Because he isn’t asking what you want to do. He isn’t even asking how long you can wait.
There’s a reason why he’s risking all sorts of shit to say this in person. Why he seems so restless.
And you’re already missing him so hard it hurts.
Truthfully? You can’t do this. Not now. Not when your heart is bleeding out on your own bedroom floor. There isn’t even enough time to process Jungkook’s talk and now you need to deal with this?
“Babe?”
But despite what you feel, even if your throat is seizing and your chest is caving in, your answer will be what he needs.
Because seeing Yoongi look like this—torn and frayed at the edges—renders you powerless and protective all at once. For fuck’s sake, he looks slightly panicked and this is the second new side of him you’ve seen tonight.
And yet he found a way to be with you one last time.
Sacrificing seconds just to say goodbye.
So you give up something, too. Your wants and needs because you don’t think you can do this, but it seems way too important to him to not try.
You get it. That whole confrontation probably snapped all sense back into him. He doesn’t want to hurt his best friend. Or disrupt his work environment. Or both. Whatever whatever whatever. You should’ve seen this coming.
If distance is what he wants, you’ll give it. Instant karma because you just told someone else to give you some, too.
Of course you lose someone as soon as you gain back another.
“Doll, let me know because—”
“Anything,” you rush out, and yearning taints your voice on the descent. “I’ll do it.”
He pans from one eye to the other, and you weakly reveal a crack in your resolve,
“Anything for you.”
That answer was a lot more than what you meant to say. And the next look he gives rips you into shreds. Shreds of the bigger truth you just told him with moments left of his time.
“For us,” he corrects, swooping in to give you one more soul-shattering kiss.
And with that, he pulls away, turning to retreat into the real world that proves absurdly cruel.
You don’t know when you’ll get to be alone with him again. It could be a day. Or months. Or even longer.
But watching him go, you know you can get through this. You know you can do it.
Because this is nothing new. Just another person leaving. You’ve gone through it before and you’ll go through it again and this time will be different, right? Right? He’ll come back. Of course he will.
And yet there’s still a part of you that questions.
If people are like seasons…
Which one will Yoongi be?
Fuck.
Your body is moving before the rest of you does, and you propel forward to tug him in, flooding his lips with saltwater and longing and a deluge of reluctant trust.
And he responds in an instant, swallowing you in an embrace you’ll cherish forever and willingly giving in to your desperate tugs on his jacket.
“Yoongi, I—”
You hear another insistent knock before he slings you into the nearest wall, and he grips the back of your head so hard you sob into his mouth.
“I know.”
His name rattles around your mouth.
“It’ll be okay.”
You wanna believe him.
“Okay?”
But you only nod, eyes filled with oceans but gaze unwavering. Because you need to see him. Because you need to see him.
“Fuck.”
He smashes his lips on yours once more, capturing every soft plea for him to stay and holding you so tightly that your heart splinters. And while you know this is his way of telling you everything will be okay, you have a sinking suspicion that he is fighting to believe it himself.
It’s not fair.
None of this is fucking fair.
If he was anyone else, if you were anyone else, if your brother wasn’t the way he was, if Jungkook wasn’t in the position he’s in now.
It was just nights ago that you cradled all his moonlight in your palms.
And now you’ll be farther apart than stars.
Yoongi finally pulls away right as Dom opens the door, and a myriad of emotions slosh into your brain when his eyes never leave you.
“I got us,” he vows, finger on your chin the sole thing keeping you afloat, and you suspend in disbelief that someone you know is witnessing his lips press your forehead in real time and no explosions or helicopters are crashing onto the scene.
Just a panicked “Hurry up, for god’s sake!” to indicate your friend is not amused or phased.
Yoongi finally steps away, slowly backing up before slipping out, and the door closes with only you inside—hand clawing deep into your chest.
Because you know him well enough.
He was committing your every feature to memory.
And the desperation in his reddened eyes hunches you forward in pain.
The rest of the party goes on. Music booms, people laugh, conversations sparkle.
And you hear them all through your door.
Unmoved from the spot everyone left you in.
Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: Hey
Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: You up or nah?
You [1:40am]: yeah
Idiot🙄 [1:40am]: Help me clean up
You scoff at your phone, letting it fall from your hand before resting tired eyes between your knees.
When it buzzes again, you reluctantly read it with vision unreflecting.
Idiot🙄 [1:42am]: Left food for you, too
That you will leave your room for. You may have just cried out your weight in tears alone.
You🙄 [1:46am]: ok
Idiot🙄 [1:46am]: 👍
Cleaning is a quiet event, with you both doing the chores you’ve defaulted to over the years. While he clears the floors and deals with the trash, you steadily get through the dishes, scrubbing them as well as you can before placing them in the washer to dry.
A plate. A bowl after that.
Two whisky glasses even though there were plenty of solo cups to use.
You needed this. Needed a way of going through the motions and letting your brain fly on autopilot. If you sniffle, the water drowns it out, and only the dishes get to see any lingering tears.
And unluckily for you, there are plenty of both.
“Hey.”
You hum.
“Do I need to beat his ass?”
Well, that didn’t take long.
Frustration tears its way up your throat on all fours, “I should kick yours for what you did back there.”
“And I’d deserve it.”
You pause.
“But I still wanna know.”
Sighing, you shake your head, knowing that neither of you are angry enough to fight anyways. “No, okay? I was serious. We talked.”
“I know you talked but he still hurt you.”
Your lip stings under your teeth.
“And I can’t just let that go.”
When he stops, you place another dish on its rack. “Let’s just finish and I’ll tell you everything in a sec.”
He sets down the last of his trash before retiring in the living room, the thump of weary weight squeezing a sigh out of the couch.
And you eventually join him, water cutting off with a squeak before you shuck off your gloves.
As you walk through the cleaned-enough rooms, you keep hearing afterimages of conversations, wondering how many revolved around your shouting match with Jungkook, or how many speculated who Yoongi is or isn’t seeing.
All these pretend scenarios mock you from all sides.
But the conversation you’re about to have with your brother is gonna be real. And a long time coming, quite frankly.
You take a breath before crossing into a space that’s seen and heard many things. While you take residence in your regular spot on the sofa, your brother doesn’t deter his gaze from a television that’s not on.
But as soon as you blurt out your confession, he slowly closes his eyes.
“He broke up with me. Before I left for school.”
“...Why didn’t you tell me.”
Brows scrunched, you waste no time in pinning him with your response, “Did you see yourself back there? Imagine if you found out back then.”
Silence.
“Besides,” you continue, deflating back into the cushions, “He was moving, remember? And you had enough going on. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I always worry.”
“It’s whatever at this point. I didn’t even know he was back until Yoo—you told me.”
Shit, that was close.
“I shouldn’t have made it a surprise.”
“Not your fault. What’s done is done.” When you observe the blank screen, you can see your brother aim a look your way. “Just made the whole uni thing miserable at first.”
And the years after, too, but he doesn’t need the same details that Yoongi got.
He sighs, hand scratching the side of his head before free-falling. When it’s quiet, you think he’s preparing for war. Prepping a vow to go after Jungkook and dealing with a problem that’s not yours anymore.
But he doesn’t do that. What he says catches you completely off guard.
An apology.
“I’m sorry I’m always gone. Or not really here when I’m back.”
Where did that come from? Are you already done with a talk you dreaded for years?
This can’t be it.
Blinking, your mouth slowly opens before you respond as level as possible. “It’s okay. I can pretty much fend for myself at this point.”
“I know. But I’ll try to be better.”
He’s gonna what? “Why?”
“Cus I feel… Uhh.” He moves his lips around in thought, as if the next sentence takes strategy to arrange. “I feel like we don’t really talk anymore.”
“…Oh.”
You’re thoroughly thrown. Because who the hell is this person you’re talking to right now? What’s up with him? He doesn’t need to try anything better except calm the fuck down sometimes. And let you be an adult.
And frankly, you feel like you talk a normal amount anyway. At least, you didn’t think anything was off about it.
What the hell happened after he left your room?
Suddenly, you see him laugh at the ground before asking it a question. “Remember when we’d go get our own food?”
Alright, he’s definitely drunk or a clone.
But you’ll take it. This switch in what you expected this conversation to be is a welcome one, and you softly entertain memories that aren’t supposed to be this funny. “Yeah. We’d get told to come back with our parents.”
“Until they realized we kept going alone.”
A memory makes you smirk. “You even tried dressing like a grown up.”
He chuckles again, elbows resting on his knees as he watches your coffee table. “I really thought I did it, too.”
“You did.” Thinking about all the shit you both went through, it’s truly a wonder how you’re both still here. Living and existing and doing big things.
A rueful chuckle leaves your lips, floating to the floor. “We’re fucked up, huh.”
“Very,” he agrees. “But who isn’t.”
True. “It could be worse, I think.”
“How?”
You play with some of the frays on your sofa, wondering when this piece of furniture started to resemble thin lines of too-soft polyester at its edges.
Did it start to give up around the same time your parents did? Or had their patience worn thin way before the threads on this cushion began to fade?
Whichever truth remains, at least it’s still here—witnessing all the struggles and triumphs, the highs and lows, and all the times the two of you had sat in puffy-eyed silence.
Together.
“They could’ve left us somewhere else.”
“Ah,” he nods, slowly shaking his head and twisting the watch on his wrist. “Nah.”
Silent, your eyes find his side profile in due time. “No?”
And his glare burns the path ahead. Just like it always has. “I wouldn’t have let them.”
“Oh, really.”
“I got them to leave us all this, didn’t I?”
Wait, he did what now?
…You didn’t know that.
“Hold on,” you breathe slow. “That’s what happened?”
“We had a deal.” He sighs before leaning all the way back, hands joined at the knuckles on his stomach. “If I graduated with full marks and, uhh. Got a starting salary high enough, they’d pay for your tuition.”
The pause he makes weighs a ton.
“And leave this to us when you came back.”
So… He…
Holy shit.
You were just fucking relieved you didn’t have to pay any loans. For once, you thought your parents really had your best interests in mind and did something out of kindness before peacing the fuck out.
But it’s all because your brother negotiated and pulled off the near impossible?
…Is he paying loans?
“I didn’t know any of that,” you whisper, finding yourself on the verge of tears again.
He simply shrugs, looking down at his cherished piece that he rarely takes off. “You didn’t need to. You were just a kid.”
“So were you.”
Your brother purses his lips, and you wonder what words he could be holding back. What thoughts he has that he won’t say out loud. If any of them are things he wants to say but can’t.
“It’s whatever.”
He had to grow up fast so that you didn’t have to.
And you don’t have the heart to tell him that university fast tracked that anyways.
So, while grateful as hell and knowing you’ll be thinking about this conversation for years, you switch the subject. You’re already overwhelmed as is.
And you suddenly understand what Yoongi might be struggling with, too.
Because if he did all this for you, what lengths has he gone for his best friend?
Shoving that thought into a far corner of your brain, you rest your head to mirror your sibling, letting your tears slide back to where they came from. “I, umm. Was wondering why they left us the house. But I figured they just didn’t wanna pay for it.”
“It was already paid off,” he explains, seemingly just as happy to talk about something else. “Don’t ask me how I know this, but it’s how I was able to negotiate in the first place. They had four other properties, and a condo on some island.”
“What.”
“That’s why they were rarely here. Work trips, my ass.” He scoffs before bouncing a leg. “And they had us in this place.”
“I like it here, though.”
“I do, too, but…” You hear a shuffle of his feet before he stops. “I just. I dunno, it’s just us here. It feels...”
“Empty?”
“Maybe. More like something’s missing? I dunno, that’s probably lame.”
You inhale before assuring him. “It’s not.”
And with that, you’re both left to stare at the same ceiling, conversation stewing and simmering around the whole room.
Usually, this is when you leave. Because you don’t wanna talk about shit like this, or you simply feel like doing anything else.
But tonight, you want to stay. You didn’t know these things about your brother and what he did, and it’s making you realize a lot of things.
And regret others.
A question rolls off your tongue before you can overthink it, “Do you ever wonder what we did wrong?”
“All the time.”
“When I think about it, I always end up thinking the same thing.”
“Hmm.”
You tilt your head his way. “We weren’t the adults. But neither were they.”
And you both huff in tandem after he grins. “Damn.”
You don’t know how the two of you got here. But it was much better than talking about anything else, and you silently thank him for not making you more miserable than you already were.
Truthfully, you feel a little better instead.
He just needs to know for sure that you really are past the whole situation. Mostly. A healthy amount, at least.
So you tell him. “I mean it, thou—”
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh?” You look over to see regret fill his side of the couch.
“For what I did. I was outta line.”
“Oh.” You swallow, surprisingly emotional that he’s even owning up to it. You know it only happened because he was being protective, but hearing this from him is huge. That had to be hard. “Thank you.”
“I just.. I love you, okay?” He turns to look at the ceiling again, and you quickly have to do the same because you know how that was even tougher to say. “You and my brothers.. You’re all I’ve got.”
Liquid emotion runs down your cheek, never having been told that more than once in a single day.
It’s a shame how foreign it sounds when you say it back.
But that doesn’t make it any less true.
“Love you, too.”
An hour later, you find yourself in bed, clutching your phone while a single question loops through your brain.
…Calling should be okay, right?
Even if you can’t see him, or really be in the same room, this should be okay. At least, in the dead of night when even birds are asleep. When no one is awake to judge you both for lying to the people you...
Your chest squeezes when you press down on your decision, the talk with your brother repeating in your ears.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
It’s ringing.
Still ringing.
…And you feel your chest cave when you hear it go to voicemail.
Fuck.
Maybe he’s sleeping already. Unforeseen circumstances like emotional turmoil tend to slow down your getting ready for bed process, so it took a lot longer than usual. Maybe he isn’t actively avoiding your calls and is just face down in a pillow you miss using.
And maybe you need to get used to this god-awful feeling as quickly as you can.
This hollow, aching, painful feeli—
Yoongi: Incoming Call
Your chest booms when you see his name, and you try your absolute hardest to answer normally even though instant tears blur the screen.
“H—”
“Sorry, I was showering, fuck.”
His breath sounds so rushed, and you immediately wonder what he looks like if he didn’t take that long to answer. Imagining him in only a towel or less, you let out a pained chuckle before whispering, “You okay?”
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”
Of course that’s his answer. “I’m not. Just wondering if you were.”
“Why would I be if you aren’t? Ow.”
Body alert, you only focus on that last syllable. “Wait, are you hurt?”
You hear a low grunt before he responds.
“Just hit my fucking knee getting out.”
Ouch. How the hell did he do that? “I’m sorry. You got ice, though, right?”
“It’s not that bad. Just stings.”
“Okay.”
There’s some crunching sounds before you hear footsteps and hisses, and a thump before other noise crackles through.
“Spoke to Kook.”
Shit.
“And the guys.”
Oh. About work. “What’s up?”
“We’re gonna be busy as shit for the next month or two, so.. Guess that came at a good time.”
Ah. No finish line in sight.
But he didn’t hide that information from you, so you appreciate the honesty. Better than him leaving you in complete darkness.
“Yeah, do your thing,” you support. “I need to prep for this interview anyway. And figure shit out if I end up getting the job.”
“When you get it.”
You exhale, shy. “When I get it, yeah.”
“Where is it again? That blue building, yeah?”
“Mmhmm. But where I’ll be is like, third floor.”
“See? Claiming shit already.”
You realize right as he says it, but you meant something completely different. Your laugh is soft. “I meant for the interview.”
“Mm. Well lemme know where you post up after they hire you.”
“Yoongi.”
“Fine.”
“Did you, umm. Did you and Kook talk about anything else?”
“Just work stuff.”
“Okay.” Your eyes lower. If he’s telling you everything, you gotta reciprocate.
Even the stuff you don’t wanna mention. “He tried to kiss me.”
“What.”
Swallowing at his tone, you whisper, “I told him I couldn’t.”
“…I see.”
Fuck. He does not sound okay with that in the slightest. Disappointed with yourself, you apologize, “I’m sorry.”
“Huh? Don’t be.”
“You sound mad.”
There’s another moment of silence, and you don’t think you breathe until he responds,
“Not at you, doll.”
Well, shit. You don’t wanna cause any friction between them, especially after the energy Jungkook gave off earlier. It’s still bugging you to hell. “Nothing happened, baby. But he felt really off after y’all left, so.. I dunno. Be careful.”
“I will. But that means I can’t talk when he’s around.”
You bury your head, watching the hours that you get with Yoongi dwindle away. Knowing Jungkook, he’s gonna immerse himself in whatever keeps him distracted. So he will most likely be at the studio just as much. “At least you were there today,” you whisper.
“Mm.”
“Honestly, I didn’t expect that.”
There’s a breath on the line, and you can tell he’s hesitant just by the way he moves his phone. So when he finally speaks, your jaw goes slack.
“I was there first, doll.”
He what?
“Wait… You were?”
He was at your door first? He has to know how that looked, right? Your brother clearly saw him if he was the one to shout, and yet there was no mention of it when the two of you spoke.
Maybe that’s part of why Yoongi decided what he did. A decision to help you came with consequences he knew were coming. But he did it anyway.
Your breath is suddenly short. And your head is starting to spin with information overload.
“The plan was to only check for a sec, but he had the same idea. Showed up right behind me.”
“So… You both heard—”
“Nothing until the yelling.”
They were there the whole time. Both of them. Yoongi first? Your brother joining him?
Nope. This is too much. All of this is way too much for one night and your head is bursting at the seams.
Just another reason why this separation could be a good thing. Other than the fact that Jungkook seems weird and you can’t see Yoongi at all and him and your brother really are more than friends and you wedged yourself right in between everybody—
Information. Realizations. Guilt. You’re spiraling.
Run.
“I’m, umm. I’m gonna get off now.”
“You okay?”
Say yes. Say anything but “No. I’m… I don’t know, I really don’t know—This is a lot and—”
“Wait—”
“I get it and I’ll stay away for as long as you want—”
“Babe, talk to—”
“Bye, Yoongi.”
And you immediately hang up before your dam floods.
He doesn’t need to hear your grief over the past, your regrets of the present, your fear of the future. He doesn’t need to know how pained you really feel dealing with everything at once. How harsh his departure is because this is when you need him most.
Yoongi: Missed Call
All he needs to know is that you’ll do this for him. Because he would do the same for you.
And he’s done enough for everyone other than himself.
But goddamn if this doesn’t hurt like nothing else you’ve experienced before.
And you’ve been through hell.
Yoongi: Missed Call (2)
Why is he calling? Won’t this just make it harder?
Why does he keep trying if you need to stay away?
Yoongi: Incoming Call
With a heart so busted you don’t know where all the pieces are, you finally reach up to acknowledge his effort.
And his greeting sends a pang through your chest.
“Knew you’d answer on the first try.”
Sniffling, you say his name so, so softly.
“You didn’t let me say bye.”
When you don’t respond, he trudges on.
“So now, you get to hear the longest good night ever.”
Huh?
“And no hanging up this time.”
What the heck does he… mean…
As soon as you hear the light strums of a guitar, your heart shows signs of life. And you let everything out while he gathers the scattered shards with every chord. Every note.
Every second he doesn’t say goodbye.
A river flows into your pillow until it runs dry, and the Moon outside your blinds casts a silver blanket over your defeated shoulders.
And it’s only when you and your phone are dead to the world that the Sun steps in to peel it off with calm palms.
For the first time in a long time, you plan a sleepover at Taehyung’s.
And after getting a rundown of what happened, he completely agrees that you both need it.
It’s been a minute since you slept over there, and rolling onto his driveway makes you remember the first time it happened.
Your brother was outright flabbergasted you even asked.
But after some arguments from you and very clear energy from Tae, your brother waved you off and just demanded no funny shit better happen.
And you’ve spent so many nights over there since then that Taehyung’s one of the people he calls if he’s looking for you.
Being reminded of something else interesting, you think back to the first time you went to Yoongi’s, spending enough time there that he ended up on the list of people to call about your whereabouts.
As hot as he was picking up with a cheeky arm around you, it was surprising he was on that list in the first place.
Well, maybe not. They’re best friends. But why would he—
“You just gonna waste gas in my driveway or what?”
Snapping your head up, you see Taehyung looking bored, hands on his hips and wearing the most comfortable clothes you’ve ever seen.
Your glare in return is empty when you finally get out, circling around to grab your stuff and take-out from the passenger seat.
“You’re lucky I like you,” you joke as he goes to grab the food. Locking your car, you follow his grumbles into the house with a laugh, feeling a little okay already.
“How’s Jimin?”
“Still complicated, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss.”
You sigh before you poke your noodles, knowing you have quite the catch-up to get through. If only your attempt at procrastination worked.
“Eat,” Taehyung orders before taking a hearty slurp of his meal. “I don’t care if you’re sad, this wasn’t cheap.”
“Excuse you.” He’s lucky you resist the urge to fling saucy food all over his shorts. “Also, I paid for it, the hell?”
When your friend blows air through his nose, you scoff before silently doing as he says, pouting at the beginning credits onscreen.
“How long has it been?”
Ah. That’s a good start.
As you peer down at your food, emotion and appetite abandon your palate,
“A month.”
“...Damn.”
Taehyung already knows all about what happened. But even if he didn’t, you think he would’ve caught on to your increasingly depressing song choices. And the way you barely watched Yoongi during the last intramural game.
“How’s the new job, though? Good distraction?”
That you can talk about for hours. “Thank fuck it is.”
“That’s good, at least.”
As your meal progresses, you continue to catch him up on everything, including the way night calls are the only thing keeping your hopes afloat.
Because Yoongi was right. Ever since the party, weekdays have been radio silent, and you soon got accustomed to looking forward to his late texts saying he’s home.
And you’ve been okay with that. Landing the job and getting swamped with training has kept you busy, and your friends have been a wonderful salve for persisting wounds.
It just stings when you know the studio is close by. Because even though Yoongi extended invitations before, you avoid that area like the plague.
“But enough about me,” you huff. “Still complicated with him, huh.”
If Taehyung knows you’re too sad to keep talking, he doesn’t show it. His response simply comes after a few chews. “Yeah. But”—he swallows—“Not in a way I’m mad about.”
“What do you mean?”
Taehyung settles back into the sofa right as a ball of fluff hops on, and you watch the movie roll by while he gently orders him to get down. “He’s not as flaky. We just haven’t really labeled anything yet.”
That’s surprising to hear. Tae doesn’t strike you as the labeling type at all, so your question is genuine, “Do you need one?”
A huff is what you get in return, and you can hear the smile in his tone. “He seems to want one more than me. Which is why I don’t get the hesitation.”
“Mm.”
That makes more sense. Knowing what you know about Jimin, you aren’t shocked he would be conflicted about something he really wants.
Why he’s skirting around the point is the question. It’s clear to you that they would be so cute together. And sickly annoying in public.
“Maybe that’s a good sign,” you blurt, roping your friend’s gaze and attention. Spotlight on you instead of the characters bustling about his television, you smile. “It’s like he’s scared because he cares about your feelings.”
Not unlike what’s happening between another pair of friends you know.
Taehyung blinks, and you’ve always liked the way curiosity widens his eyes.
But he’s so quiet that you shift. “What?”
He keeps staring before biting an incoming smile. Before you can question him again, something brightens his expression. “You’ve changed, you know that?”
Huh. “Me? How?”
Your friend just grins before resting his head on the top of his cushion. “I’ve always known you were amazing. But now you look like you know that, too.”
All thoughts fizzle out before your jaw dips. When you try to present arguments, none materialize, and Taehyung laughs at the way you physically buffer.
“Not even denying it. I like this.”
“Shut up,” you finally pout, embarrassed and shy when he laughs again.
The rest of the film continues with nothing else but your commentary, and Taehyung clicks out of the queue screen before another one can start.
“Break? Or what do you feel like?”
You feel Yeontan’s fluff at your feet. “We can keep going.”
“Mmk.”
Both of you contemplate which one to pick when you feel your phone vibrate a ton. And when you see the notification, your heart leaps before crashing back down to the ground.
Yoongi [5:02pm]: Just got booked for another week
Yoongi [5:03pm]: Can’t talk now but
Yoongi [5:03pm]: Letting you know
Right.
You slowly let your hand drop with a sigh, and you can feel Taehyung’s pitied stare without moving.
“I know,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t be upset.”
“You can definitely be upset.”
You lift weary eyes to see that your assumption was very wrong. There’s no pity evident at all.
Only warmth. And understanding.
“Cus knowing him? He’s probably more frustrated than you are.”
There’s a pinch in your chest, a sharp one that cuts your breath for a small second in time.
Him? Being more upset than you?
You only thought about that possibility once, but you quickly dismissed it. There’s no way.
But hearing Tae say it from a guy’s perspective—and someone that knows how Yoongi can be—gives you pause.
It just didn’t make sense before because he sounds fine when you call, and he doesn’t really talk much about his own shit unless you ask. Which is strange considering he was fine doing so after your huge breakthrough at his place. Granted, it was mostly about good things.
Does he only hold back when it’s about stuff that stresses him out? That’s not ideal. You’ve told him before to tell you what’s bothering him, so if he’s still hesitant to let you in…
Taehyung’s honeyed voice brings you into the present,
“What are you gonna say?”
Blinking, you push your lips together in thought before looking at your phone again.
If Yoongi really is more upset than you are, then you should tell him something that you would wanna hear from him. Even if you aren’t feeling so hot.
You [5:07pm]: how’s ur back feel from carrying everyone so hard🥴
You [5:07pm]: jk its ok<3 you’re getting recognized and it’s about time
When you send those, something strange happens to your shoulders.
They’re lighter.
How is that possible? You’re still sad.
But your mind seems to clear some junk out, instead feeling a little okay about the whole thing.
Hopefully Yoongi receives them well. If he doesn’t, you’ll figure something else out.
Yoongi [5:09pm]: Lmaoo I’m saying. They better run me my check and cover my hospital bills.
You laugh with teary eyes, soul feeling like it’ll live despite plans being pushed back again.
The lingering sadness remains, but it’s dwindled for now. An afterthought to the slight happiness you feel from lifting him up instead of dragging him down.
Another message slides into the thread before you click your phone shut, so when Tae gets more food, you catch what it says.
Yoongi [5:11pm]: Fuck I miss you
And your heart beats extra loud, mouth slightly curved and wobbly because you agree but it’s okay, okay, okay. You can both do this.
You [5:12pm]: i miss you too.. but focus now and tell me all about it later
Of course you want to cry. Of course you want to curl up into a ball and sob.
Yoongi [5:15pm]: Thanks doll
But just like there’s strength in being strong, there’s just as much strength in being gentle.
Because as upset as you feel, it’s better if you don’t show it. While you aren’t completely resolute, you push forward in silence. Even if you can’t see the finish line.
The lingering feeling of anxiousness remains; the what-if’s batter your mind from the inside. But you choose to stay optimistic for him, and even you have to admit that’s admirable.
But the yearning still packs a fucking punch.
Your shoulders must be slumping to hell because you feel a warm presence settle against you, slinging an arm around and holding you close.
The only sound you make is a quick sniffle, but you don’t move as Taehyung reads the thread on your phone.
“You see what I see, right,” is all he whispers.
And when you slightly shrug, he leans his head against yours.
“You will.”
Nodding, you feel more tears follow the paths of their predecessors, and you don’t move to wipe them away. “You’re a good person, Tae.”
His chuckle sounds like a hearth, and you welcome Yeontan’s sniffs on your legs.
“Jimin’s lucky you’re even giving him a chance.”
“Ah.” After squeezing your bicep, your friend reaches down to pick up his baby. “He’s lucky I gave him more than one.”
“Oh? The luckiest then.”
“You can do this,” he murmurs. “He’ll be ready before you know it.”
With heavy eyes, you glance down at your still unfinished food.
“Maybe you’re right.”
One week turns into three.
Then two more pass.
And Taehyung might be less correct than you thought.
“Fuck,” you groan, clutching under your stomach. “Sorry, I’m a mess.”
“It’s okay.”
“At least you don’t have to see me this gross.”
“So?”
“You better stop.” Another eruption of pain shoots through your lower body, and you exhale into your pillow. “This is only making it worse.”
“You got a heating pad?”
A what? How does he know about—
Oh. Right.
…You probably shouldn’t tread waters you don’t know the depths of.
“Yeah. But it’s too far and I’m lazy.”
He laughs in pity but doesn’t show any in his words,
“Go get it, doll.”
Because being reminded of his last relationship also makes you wonder why it ended. And wonder if that also has anything to do with his decision.
Now hurt in multiple ways, you childishly retort, “You get it.”
“I would if I was there. But I’m not, so you’re gonna.”
“Fine.” You huff into your pillowcase, knowing you’re gonna get up because his perfect mix of support and command is annoyingly attractive. “How much longer?”
Yoongi’s too quiet for your tastes.
“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Eyes closed, you’re silent for eons.
“Okay.”
To your confusion, you get a food delivery at your office the next day.
Inspecting the contents of the bag, you’re cautious until you notice a takeout box of mandu under some sweets and a few all too familiar fruits.
And at the note inside, you promptly proceed to the least used bathroom to compose yourself.
Soon.
Soon and Almost are somewhat similar.
Both can give people a bit of hope.
But they can also be the most dangerous words to play with.
Because soon is hilariously arbitrary, and you almost believed it meant something good.
“Going to Yoongi’s.”
“K.”
“You wanna go? He’s having a few people over.”
You bite down so hard your jaw hurts. “Nah, I already have plans tonight.”
“K. Have fun!”
When the door closes, you keep your eyes on the television.
Arms falling at your side because you know you aren’t going anywhere.
On a random Tuesday, you finally get a package you’ve been waiting on for what seems like months, and you rush to your room to check if it’s exactly what you wanted.
When it looks so beautiful, and feels smooth to the touch, you clutch the material in sorrow.
It’s perfect.
And completely useless for the time being.
Calls have been the one thing getting you by.
But over time, even those have virtually stopped.
It can’t be helped. He’s working far too late into the night for you to stay awake, and is passed out by the time you need to wake up.
Spending time with friends helps distract from the drift, especially when one of them keeps snapping you into the present, but they’re getting busy, too.
However. Despite all the obstacles, you keep waiting. A season has passed, yet you stay grounded.
Hoping, wishing, choosing to believe that Yoongi’s not gonna do the same.
You accidentally spill your drink.
And you sob.
One chilly night, you take more of Taehyung’s advice, going to Jimin’s determined to have a good time.
But despite the manufactured confidence you had while getting dressed up and the way you were totally fine walking in and conversing with people and the admittedly perfect vibes of the party…
There’s a hole in your chest that won’t decrease in size.
No matter what you feed it—food, drinks, the compliments of others—it refuses to budge, and this emptiness holds weight. Heavy. Melancholic.
Painful.
As you suddenly find yourself on Jimin’s windy balcony, one with a slightly different view than the one you’ll remain on forever, dull eyes lower to your solo.
If you forget this one on the railing, too…
Will he finally show up to hand it back?
A sharp ache spreads as the hole expands, new tears too powerful to ignore. You know your vision swims, but you don’t move to stay afloat at all.
Three months.
Ninety days.
Eight million seconds.
It only took sixty for you to miss him. And it only took sixty-one for you to feel something else.
How many more will you end up counting? How long until you get to count down instead of up?
You keep asking yourself that. When you know for damn sure that you don’t want to know the answer.
A breeze wraps around your limbs as you sip, the chill cutting through your dress and making you teeter in your heels.
Because it seems like Yoongi doesn’t know, either.
To the point where it’s starting to scare you.
Has he been perfect otherwise? Sickeningly.
But something in you keeps wondering why the wait keeps extending, anxious that he could be flat out stalling.
Prematurely saddened by the possibility that he’s reconsidering entirely.
It makes sense. At least, more sense than him actually wanting something with you. Maybe this time apart has given him the clarity to realize how rose-tinted this whole situation has been. How unrealistic and laughable.
But that night in his kitchen…
It’s getting harder and harder to stay positive.
On the verge of defeat, you hold out your phone, clicking around until your finger hovers over a certain Call button.
You can’t.
He’s working. Someone could see your name, if he has it saved as normal as you have his.
Your finger moves a bit closer.
What the fuck are you doing? Stop. Don’t screw up everything you’ve had to endure with one impulsive decision.
But your mind is fucking bad tonight and you have no clue why.
When the screen lights up with the call screen anyway, ice water rushes through because you totally didn’t mean to call and you need to end it now.
Hold on, it’s an incoming call?
Oh fuck, it’s an incoming call.
Your throat sears as your eyes shut tight.
How the fuck did he know? How the fuck does he always know?
Tears burning, you try your hardest to calm the hell down before you answer, wondering why he dubs you his good luck charm when he puts guardian angels to shame.
You can’t even say hello.
“Hey.”
Fuck. Get it together. Gentle, silent, strong.
“Hello?”
But you can’t. Not this time. Just hearing his voice for the first time in weeks has you crumbling, and that damn hole in your chest is unquenchable.
As soon as your greeting is nothing but a weak sniffle, his change in tone seizes your soul and squeezes.
Because it plummets.
“Where are you.”
There’s quick shuffling and a door opening.
“What’s wrong.”
Damn it there’s keys jangling and you can’t help but sob even harder knowing exactly what he’s doing.
Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. He doesn’t have to go home just because you’re what, sad? Pathetic.
You feel way too many things for this man and it fucking sucks that eight million seconds have gone by after you finally acknowledged them.
However many you get with him now, whenever that may be, you’re not taking a single one for granted.
“Babe, tell me. Now.”
“Jimin’s. Outside,” you choke out, sniffling and wiping both cheeks. “But nothing happened, Yoongi, I just—It just—”
“Gimme twenty. Can you do that?”
Lowering your head and expectations, you huff in sad amusement.
Of course you can. Twenty minutes is nothing to you now. You can wait until he’s free. “Guess so.”
“K. Go back inside and grab a bag.”
Huh? Knitted brows get aimed at your cup as you question him.
“Chips, doll. Jimin has some in the pantry.”
That doesn’t answer anything, so you remain thoroughly confused. “I’ll be okay,” you respond after a moment, simply assuming he wants you to replenish sodium. “I’m not hungry.”
“I am.”
You freeze.
So does time.
And the next three seconds are enough.
“But you better bring the good shit or I’m not letting you in the car.”
After camping in the only unoccupied bathroom, you finally get a text that he’s somewhere around the corner.
And your chest has never felt lighter.
Texting Tae, you let him know that you’re leaving and that you don’t apologize to Jimin for raiding his kitchen. When he responds, that’s when you slip out, your departure a mess of crinkling and racing heartbeats.
If anyone sees you walking out with chips, you pay them no mind. Because you only care what one person thinks.
And seven minutes later, when you see him doubling over at the bazillion noisy bags in your arms, you laugh along at the absurdity of it all.
It’s almost enough to distract you from what he’s wearing.
But to your credit, you don’t exactly see the damn rips in his jeans until he opens a back door for you to throw your haul in.
As if the black top wasn’t already disrespectful enough. His hair has even gotten longer, and you really, really like the new length.
“Fucking hustler.”
No second is wasted as you grab his shirt, positively melting at the way he doesn’t resist or shy away at all.
In fact, he does the exact opposite, crushing you against his warm car so fast he has to brace himself. You welcome the way air leaves your lungs, because you’re giving it all to him with each pass of his lips over yours.
Both of you know you’re outside, in public, somewhere you can be seen. But, mirroring the last time you kissed under a starry sky, neither of you act like you give a shit.
Just like that, everything that has haunted you fades. The worries, the fears, the doubts. It doesn’t matter how many days have passed, because it feels like he never left.
And you suddenly know Yoongi is summer.
Endless.
“Get in,” he rasps through a smirk. “Thief.”
With a grin spread so wide your cheeks hurt, you respond right as your foreheads meet,
“Anything for you.”
With nothing but the road ahead and him beside you, everything is right with the world.
“You still have to gimme chips.”
Maybe not quite everything.
Smile ruining your attempted pout, you reach behind your seat to pick a random bag, settling on the easiest one to grab. “You really made me get these just for you, huh? Are you eating?”
“Yes, my love. And I never said that.”
Well. That first sentence will never, ever, ever be unpacked.
As you shakily open the bag, you hope his music hides your shiver, “Such a smartass.”
“You’re the smartass.”
“Don’t act like you aren’t smart, too,” you laugh, tugging down your dress because he has his car pretty cold tonight. “I know you are.”
When Yoongi reaches to grab some crisps, his blatant stare on your thighs makes you squirm. “Why?”
“I just… You read.”
To your chagrin, he laughs in surprise, forcing you to look out the window.
Which makes you miss the way he turns down the fans. “I’m smart cus I read? How do you even know?”
“You have books under your coffee table,” you answer without doubt as he digs for more chips. “And you don’t have decor just to have it, so…”
He cocks a brow before focusing on the road, licking his fingers and giving you grief. “I moved those, by the way.”
“Em”—you cough—“Embarrassed?”
“Proactive.”
“Huh? For what?”
He can barely contain his spreading curve. “The next time you decide to fuck up my place.”
Your heartbeat skips as you gawk, and the current song is overshadowed by your playful shouts and tickle attempts. “Oh, bullshit!”
“You soaked—aish—my whole apartment!”
“That was you!”
“No?”
“Yes? I was nice and only got your head wet!”
Yoongi glances at you then, head tilted up in cockiness and wide smirk slicing through your every thought.
And you glitch when you realize why.
Settling back into your seat with arms guarding your shyness, you sniff upward. “Ugh. Whatever… I’m right.”
He chuckles a bit before making a turn, and the scenery starts getting familiar.
Way too familiar.
Wait, he’s taking you back to your house?
No no no. Why is he taking you there?
You got into his car fully prepared to go back to his place, consequences and shit be damned. Everything else be damned. One night is all you want right now, and there’s no way you aren’t going without a fight.
All sense of the current mood dissipates when you grip his forearm. “Not there.”
He flicks his gaze, rolling to a stop at an intersection that’s frighteningly close. And his expression falls when he shifts into park with a sigh. “Babe… We can’t.”
“I don’t care.”
“I was only gonna bring you back.”
“Baby, please.”
“He’s home—”
“Do you still miss me?”
He freezes.
Which gives you a chance.
Eyes glossy, you use all the seconds you have to say everything you’ve kept to yourself.
Almost everything.
“Because I get it if you don’t. I do. But I really… I really fucking miss you. And not just because of, whatever. But I consider you a friend and fun as hell to be around, and I haven’t”—you inhale, hating how it shakes—“I haven’t been this happy in weeks. And we aren’t even doing anything.”
Yoongi is completely silent. But that’s okay because you aren’t done.
“I know you said I wouldn’t see you. But after getting to know you? The real you? …That sucks.” You can’t look at him when his hand slips from the wheel. “I’m not gonna make you change anything, just. Telling you what’s on my mind. Like you said. I’m gonna do that a lot more now.”
He doesn’t say a word as a tear cuts one of your cheeks, and you’re brave enough to look his way again. “But it’s been three months, Yoongi,” you whisper. “Is that still not enough for you?”
Time ticks as you hold your breath, oxygen depleting and lungs nearing collapse as you watch his eyes close.
You laid everything out on the table. Your words, your thoughts, your pain.
Whatever he decides, though? You’ll respect it. You said what you wanted to say and you won’t take any of it back. If he wants to prolong this, you won’t stop him. If he doesn’t want this anymore… the home in your heart will need repairs, but you’ll live. Somewhat. You don’t know how but somehow. People are like seasons. You’re used to it.
Yoongi’s still way too quiet.
So, giving up and getting the point, you reach up to open your door.
“Stop.”
You do.
And the way he flexes his jaw shoots magma through your veins before he wrenches the car into drive.
The universe spins as you burst into Yoongi’s apartment, running, bumping, slamming into furniture until you get thrown against his bedroom door.
Welcoming the pain, you devour his scorching lips, fingers digging into his hair with a desperation that frightens you. All you feel is him him him, barely recalling the manic drive over and the way he all but busted into his own place.
If there were any lingering doubts to your question, they’re left out in the chill, not allowed to witness the way he hitches your leg up before pinning you firm with his pelvis.
“Shouldn’t be fucking doing this—”
You moan at the way his jeans feel on your skin, shivers running rampant when you more than feel his hardness poke through. “Please,” you pant, sticking to your word and ready to tell him what you want.
“Please what.”
Everything you want.
Tugging his head back, your admissions rub right against his mouth, “Choke me. Use me. I don’t care, do it all.”
“Huh?”
A breath whooshes out when he yanks you forward with a growl, and you cannot seem to stop, “Don’t be nice. Spit in my mouth. Make me beg like a fucking slut, I need it.”
All the other times, you’ve seen Yoongi break in different ways.
But this is the first time you’ve felt him legitimately snap.
“The fuck.”
Lightning strikes the dark as he slams you backward, teeth clinking against yours when he smothers you with saliva and lust. When he shoves his door open, you stumble back, more unholy plans in mind than he imagines.
You don’t know what’s coming over you.
Even as you force him sideways to shove into his rolling chair, the piercing look he gives is no match for your inner storm.
“Babe—”
Impatient, you drop to your knees, the pain nothing to you as your fingers twitch over his zipper. As you tug his pants down with force, Yoongi’s outright shock is another first for you.
“Are you su—”
“Let me do this,” you plead upward, and you feel highly motivated when he doesn’t do a thing except let out a low, gritty hum.
Grabbing at his cock, you already moan at the way it feels in your palm…
Softly, oh so softly, a large hand closes over yours, and you hear your name in a whisper, haze temporarily receding.
What’s wrong? Does he want you to stop?
When you ask without a word, Yoongi leans forward to capture your lips, and this gives you a warm sort of deja vu. “You drank tonight, yeah?”
“Yeah…?” Oh. He totally tasted alcohol. And your frantic behavior. He thinks—Oh.
Understanding what he’s getting at, you reach up and caress his cheek. “I’m not drunk, baby,” you chuckle. “I just missed you.”
Again, he looks at your eyes, one after the other. When you say it once more for good measure, he kisses you in acceptance.
“So are you gonna fuck my throat or nah?”
He falls back with a groan, raking his hair and legs spread wide. “What are you doing to me.”
“This.”
Without prompt, you dive head first, leaning forward to take his tip and swirl your tongue all around. Commanding his every drop of attention, you don’t let up as you tug your dress downward, breasts spilling out before you stand just enough to claim his lips.
He takes full advantage with a devilish curve, smacking your tits before ordering, “Get the fuck back down there.”
And you obey with a proud smirk of your own, hoping he’s liking this new side of you, too.
Back between his knees, you worship his length in earnest, swallowing him again and again and lathering him in saliva so your hands slide easily on him, too. When you feel his veins rub both your palms, you hear a symphony of lustful baritones.
“Holy fuck.”
You quickly discover you can’t get enough. Lapping, sucking, sheathing your head on his cock so far your brain smushes upward. He feels so familiar at this point that you realize you missed him even here, knocking the back of your throat and burdening your tongue with heavenly, sinful weight.
And you feel more familiar palms grip your head, eyes opening to see him staring down with reverence and something you can’t quite decipher.
“So fucking filthy...”
You chuckle, the rumble making him hiss and throw his head back against his chair.
“Don’t do that.”
You gladly disobey, laughing even harder around him before releasing with an expert pop to suck on his balls.
“Fuck!”
There’s a slight squeak before he grips you again, and you can tell he’s slipping by the way his moans devolve into breathy, short hisses.
Breaking, he pushes your head into his sack before slapping your cheek with his cock, and you hum as it slips back inside your grin.
Yes yes yes. You want him to enjoy this just as much as you do, steal this time together and run with it, need him to hang on the brink of mania where you currently reside. Because even though he’s saying things, you can’t hear them over the wholly impure sounds slopping out of your esophagus.
“Fucking hell, baby,” he praises, thrusting up slow as you keep him slathered. “Missed that fuckin’ mouth.”
You finally come up for air, gulping in air and letting him see you in all your panting glory. When you lock eyes, his lidded gaze is loaded, aimed only at your taunting stare.
Drool coats you in globs. Your chest, the floor, hanging from your lips as you stroke him with wet fingers before swallowing another time.
And you think you can do this until your jaw falls off.
But suddenly you’re hoisted upward before being thrown onto soft sheets, legs roughly shifted to one side as you paint the dark with your hoarse giggles. Before you know it, his lips attack your chest, and he’s setting butterflies wild as you arch in record time.
“Take this off,” he growls, tugging at your dress with sweaty fingers that you want lodged in multiple places. “No more hiding.”
You mewl, undressing as fast as you’re able, tearing the garment off and flinging it away. But your heels are still on, and whether he’s just as deft at removing those, too, you’ll need to hit pause. “What about my—”
“Don’t,” he grits with brows pinched, and his next vow is absolute, pure sin,
“I’m fucking you with them on.”
“Oh, fuck.” Your whine is high as you throw your head back, the next groan guttural as you feel a hand smack the side of your ass with force. Your jaw comes loose, soreness shooting through its curve as your legs are erotically parted to give Yoongi a view of everything.
You know your panties are soaked.
You know he’s gonna wreck your shit.
But seeing him eye the whole mess on display before lifting his hungry gaze your way? You’re damn sure you aren’t gonna survive the night.
Perfect.
“Please fuck me, baby,” you let out with a tone so soft that you think he doesn’t hear you.
He does. “I’m gonna do a lot more than that, doll.”
You tilt your head, confused and wondering what he means.
But he ignores your wordless question, sliding fingers along your ankle before holding your leg to kiss that same spot.
The action alone is enough to rewire your brain, but it’s the way he looks so confident, so unbothered, so determined that has your insides churning with want.
He plants lips there again before shifting his hand down to your calf, yanking your leg back wide and pulling a tiny help out of your throat. When he shifts to grip your other leg, he growls under his breath,
“So fucking perfect.”
“No, you,” you counter with a pout, and flinch what the fuck his slap to your cunt felt good. “Hey!”
“None of that,” Yoongi orders with finality. “Not after all that shit you said at the door.”
“I dunno what happened there,” you admit, inevitably shy under his commanding presence. Your cheeks sizzle before your teeth grip your lip, temporarily brought back to normalcy at his confession,
“Almost made me come.”
“Be for real.”
“Damn serious.”
The cheshire cat would be jealous of your grin. “Then I should keep going?”
“Uh huh.” He cups your whole cunt, and the possessive nature it exudes pushes a whine against your teeth. “Tell me.”
“Fuck me like you missed me.”
A groan rips through his room before he swoops down, lips bruising yours on the landing before he shoves his mouth against your neck.
Tingles erupt over your skin as he laps at your throat, so hard that your entire upper body slides across his rumpled sheets. When you feel his cock rub across your thong and his jeans grazing your skin, his name flies out of your chest. Moans, sighs, everything in between.
“Careful,” he warns low before another toe-curling lick. “You won’t leave if I did that.”
“I don’t want to,” you grit in return, reaching to sink claws in his hair and tug. “Wanna stay.”
Strong arms wrap around you before you feel him spread liquid fire up your shoulder, and he reaches to nip at your ear before deft fingers flick a nipple.
His voice rasps against your cheek, but the words sound reluctant to even leave. “You shouldn’t even be here, babe.”
Fuck. You know that’s true but your heart is rattling like a monster starved.
“Just tonight,” you plead your case. Because you don’t want to be shooed away before it’s over, but if this is all you get, he needs to do something now. “But if you really don’t want this then please kick me out before—”
“Fuck that.” After greedily tweaking your other nipple, he rolls his body against yours, making you fiend for the weighty cock wedged against you with only thin material between. “Fuck all of that.”
He rushes upward before nudging your leg over with a strong hand, and you fixate on the way his chains hit his chest. Just like always. “Don’t move.”
You don’t even get to breathe twice as he drops from sight, and you yelp to his roof as soon as you feel teeth nick your inner thigh. At your flinch, you feel him grip your leg with force, ordering you even harsher,
“I said. Don’t move.”
“But—Yoongi!”
You don’t notice him yank your underwear sideways before flattening a hot tongue against your folds, sucking so good you have to back away from the stimulation. Immediately, both your legs are seized before he tugs you back to him.
“Uh uh.”
And he keeps your legs apart before diving deep, and you’ve never devolved into a quivering mess so fast in your goddamn life. The way he licks, sucks, kisses just where you need—everything sends thunder through your chest, lightning across your cunt, rain into your eyes.
You can do nothing but squirm, squeals and whines and high moans leaving arrowheads in his ceiling.
Holy fuck, did you sound this loud when you worshipped him? Even now, spread wide and willing to give Yoongi the world, you find a moment to be embarrassed in the best way.
If the neighbors hear, you don’t care. They’re gonna know how well he’s feasting on you, how gorgeously corrupt you feel. How you’re his and his alone and ready to scream it to the rooftops.
When you feel a finger alongside his tongue, the sound you make borders on inhuman. You think it’s his name, but even you aren’t quite sure.
All you know is that you’re close. Your thighs are burning and your fingers swipe at his locks but he refuses to let you go. “Yoongi—I’m—”
Suddenly.
He stops.
And every nice thing you have to say to him falls to the wayside. “No no no! Please, fuck—”
The light tap to your cunt makes you quiver, and your chest heaves when he chuckles without pity,
“What’d you say?”
“Plea—Baby!”
“Huh?”
Every fucking time you speak, he taps again. And every time he gets you close, he edges with aggravating control. Again. And again.
And again.
You exist between reality and fiction, somehow seeing yourself unwinding, winding, spiraling out of control. Words start to form abstract blobs of syllables, your mouth hanging open as he peppers lazy, unbothered kisses on your thighs.
In your foggy vision, you think you see him stand. And you’re pretty sure he grabs his cock before he’s rubbing his thick head between your folds oh fuck—
“This is what you wanted, huh.”
Your breath hitches with a whine as you nod.
“You gonna be a good little slut?”
Oh, you’re gonna be whatever he fucking wants. So you nod again, not without a smile lopsided.
“Then fucking beg.”
He smacks his cockhead against your cunt, springing your back in an arch and tugging strings of incoherent speech from your depths. You make hard lines of his sheets as you grip them in both palms, and you don’t wanna know what you’re saying because the way Yoongi’s staring with a smirk has you blacking the fuck out.
To the point where you’re nothing but a quivering, shaking, restless mess on his bed.
You somehow closed your eyes at some point, because they fly open when you feel his lips on yours, and you tug at his stupidly attractive shirt that he didn’t bother to pull off. “Please,” you whisper, brain floating oceans away. “I need you.”
“Need you, too.”
He breaks away to grab a condom, and this is when you realize how intertwined you feel because even this distance is too much to bear. You’re spilling nonsense and breathing harsh and you attribute that to the sole fact that you crave release. It’s aching. Consuming.
Yoongi’s already naked and prepped by the time he positions himself between your sore legs, and you give in without resistance again when he descends on your lips.
When you whisper his name, he kisses it away, and you briefly wonder why his hands shake running up your sides.
Finally, finally, finally, he gives exactly what you want, the initial connection stretching you sore because it’s been way too long. And you feel emotional when you don’t even doubt it’s been too long for him, too.
Because his eyes speak volumes.
They hold onto your every move, watch your every reaction, hesitate when you blow out air accommodating his size.
But you lock yours with him when you relax, weakly grasping his jewelry before sliding fingers up his shoulders. When you nod, he pushes in further, both of you sighing in tandem.
And as soon as you whisper you’re ready, all niceties fly out the window.
You’re thrusted up his bed with a determined stroke before he sets a pace, and your head kicks back as soon as a hand captures your neck.
“Look at me,” he commands, and he gives you a light pat on the cheek before squeezing your jaw. “Open up.”
When you do, spit flings from his mouth into yours, and you already sprint to the edge feeling the weight of your heels and the strength of his body. “Fuck!”
You get pat again—rougher this time—before Yoongi goes to choke you a second time. “What do you say?”
“Me?” you pant, tearing the first thought from your throat when he grits it again. “Thank—”
Fuck, his dick is hitting every spot you need it to. It takes you a second to repeat your garbled guess in full, knowing it’s something you would’ve said anyway. “Thank you.”
“Now swallow.”
As soon as he shoves inside, your obedience is your undoing. The skies open to welcome you as your body locks, thighs squeezing his taut sides as he moans through your release. Waves tug you unbelievably far, and you almost lose yourself in the swell before you crash onto shore again.
“Such a whore for me,” Yoongi praises, kicking you back to the very first night and making you melt. When you peel eyelids open, you notice his smile matches yours, and the shared, cherished memory smoothens your gravelly laugh.
“Love when you do that,” you admit, shaking your head at your own strange preferences. “Don’t know why.”
“Me neither.” He spears you again with a cheeky lip bite. “But it’s so fucking hot.”
Your grin can’t be contained, and this is where you wanna be. Right here. Nowhere else in the fucking universe.
“I’m ready,” you pant, and he gives you a brief look of affection—which you shatter with force. “Fuck the shit out of me.”
Yoongi twitches madly inside your core as he expels a pained, breathy laugh. “Goddamn, this isn’t good for me.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He doesn’t waste a second gathering your calves while you ponder what he says. “Hold these pretty legs up for me. There you go.”
When you find the easiest way to do so, you marvel at how shaky and slippery your thighs are, wondering if the rest of you is faring any better.
It’s not.
But you can’t dwell on that now because Yoongi is holding on like he’ll lose you, resuming a delicious pace and smacking your hips into his with the most indecent sounds.
Your whines soon join in, and his hums of satisfaction fuel your ever going flame. Heaven and earth could move and you would remain here, suspended in time as he fills you perfectly with every fast stroke.
“Feel so good—”
When he leaves your cunt, you mewl before he grunts, “Fucking—Get up.”
What is he—
You’re hoisted upward so quickly that you see starlight, not even registering the clanks and shifts of items before he’s spinning to pin you down on a solid surface. Your heels find purchase on the floor but your knees prove unbelievably weak.
What’s—
Oh fuck, are you on his desk?
Your hands retreat until they find an edge to grab, and you moan outright when you feel his fingers slide up your cunt, shoving your thong farther over one side of your ass.
“Yoongi—”
You feel full in an instant, jaw going slack as he shoves you backwards on his cock, praises washing down your back as he pushes down any arches you instinctively make.
“Uh uh. Stay like that.”
“I wanna—” Your words are cut off with a whine as you feel a sting on your ass. “Fuck!”
“There you go.”
The rock of the desk is so strong that every bang against the wall booms loud, equipment sliding back and forth and making you briefly worry if anything will fall.
But this is the most turned on you’ve ever, ever felt, and you have no fucking clue why.
You wonder if he feels the same right before his dark laugh consumes you.
“Goddamn.”
Your hands are grabbed before he shoves you forward, letting more of your body lie on the surface so that he can pin sweaty arms at your back.
Oh, fuck!
Your moans glide across wood as he doesn’t let up, and you don’t even want to know how much drool will exist on his desk when you’re done. Maybe you’ll never be done. Maybe he really will keep you here forever, and you’ll soak his whole—
“Come here.”
He gathers your wrists in one large palm before reaching to grip your chest, hauling you up and securing you against his body by the throat.
And you think your soul just left your earthly vessel.
Pressing you further into him, he grits in your ear,
“Never fucking kicking you out.” His tight stroke launches you across space. “Don’t even think about saying that again.”
When did you— You said— Why don’t you remember—
You go limp when he shoves into you again, but your heels wobble and you focus damn hard on staying upright.
But Yoongi doesn’t give a shit. “You hear me?” When you let out a breathy confirmation, he still isn’t satisfied. A hand pats your cheek before he asks again, “Say it louder.”
“Yes!”
“Good.”
He drops all talk, pistoning in from behind while you take it and take it and love it. Mercifully, he lets your sore arms go to pin you down again, gritted words and curses dancing with your high-pitched sighs.
Fuck, his strokes are so deep that you see into the next universe, and you don’t think your mouth has been shut ever since you made contact with his desk.
Maybe he was more frustrated than you were. He’s using you as stress relief like you intended, and his roughness is a fantastic surprise.
It’s just what you need. Which kicks you into a whole other level of want and the beast inside you transforms yet again.
When Yoongi yanks himself out, you’re quick to spin and shove him backward. As he flops onto the bed, he laughs like sin incarnate when you pounce, his hot hands grabbing at your hips and encouraging your behavior in the nastiest way.
“Let’s go then, pretty bitch.”
“You already fucking know.”
“Show me what I’ve been missing.”
“Don’t fall in love.”
When you sink onto him, Yoongi’s already groaning. But when you start to swivel at a pace that will render you sore, he begins to lose it.
“Fuck.”
His head kicks back, eyes shut and brows pinched to hell. After holding your waist, he has to slap his sheets to squeeze even tighter, chest marred with red under pretty silver.
You make sure every rotation is full, slowly rocking with each circle you make and gritting teeth at how fucking big he is.
Soon, his hisses devolve into groans, and he snaps his head back up to slap your breasts—one after the other before gripping your hips so hard you welcome the pain.
“Fuck, I missed this pussy,” he confesses with husk, and you whine in response as you lower yourself to kiss him deep.
“It missed you, too.”
Coming back up, you dig one of your hands in his mattress while bracing on him with the other, and you close your eyes in bliss as you arch your tits toward his hungry lips.
Just like you want, he chuckles in satisfaction as he suckles, lolling his tongue all around before giving your nipple a hard suck. His noises remind you of lollipops, and you briefly think of a few fun things you could do with those for next time.
But a hand juts up to seize the back of your neck, forcing you to arch in place as he starts thrusting hard.
“Yoongi!”
“Uh huh.”
Before you can talk again, his other hand joins in to choke you just enough, and you find yourself teetering on a precipice. Holy fuck, holy fuck, you’re close again.
“You gonna come?”
A frantic nod.
“Then come.”
As soon as you hear the words, you do exactly that, windpipe released just as you pulse around him incredibly hard. The waves prove tsunamis, and you dangle from their crests before plummeting and tumbling below. Your moan extends as he thrusts erratically through your quivers, encouraging you and digging rough fingers into your hips.
“Again.”
Somehow, that’s enough to make your body obey, and you cry out as you flutter around his trembling cock, hearing him talk you through it but not quite understanding what he’s saying.
Maybe you also choose not to listen because of what you think you hear, and you don’t want to be haunted if you realize later on what you thought you heard wasn’t true.
The world rotates up as Yoongi sits up, and you sling arms around him as he leans back on his hands. Your breath hitches at the new angle he’s filling you at, and your eyes swirl when he coolly, confidently commands,
“Again.”
You can’t you can’t you can’t but you can. Holy fuck apparently you can, and this time, it consumes you so hard your eyes roll back enough to see the past. Past you, insecure and meek and scared to say what they want.
Oh, if they could witness you now.
You shudder impossibly hard around him, coated with his deep chuckles and dashing, ego-ridden grin. It’s all you see before you slump against his chest, heartbeat pounding against yours when you can’t feel any bone in your body.
One breath.
Two breaths.
Two hearts.
One night is enough.
“So fucking perfect.”
“For you,” you wisp out, lost in galaxies. “Only you.”
He can only kiss the side of your head in response, gently lowering you both onto spent cotton and helping you straighten out your muscle-locked legs. When he asks if you’re okay, you can only nod, and he plants another kiss on your temple before sliding off his protection.
Both of you take time to calm down, breaths heavy from what felt like a marathon. But a much better marathon than the one you’ve had to endure over the last three months.
When you lie against his chest, you silently thank him for giving you tonight. It’s the riskiest thing you’ve ever done with him, but you won’t worry about it. Not right now. Not when you feel more at home here than your own house.
Your brother is right. Something is definitely missing over there.
It’s when your pants have relaxed into soft breaths that you nudge your head against Yoongi’s chest, eyes shut in peace as he lazily draws circles on your back.
And the first words he says in minutes inject sparkles into your eyes,
“I need to re-up this damn cat’s food.”
Oh, shit!
Your outright squeal is surely coming out too loud but you don’t care. Don’t care don’t care don’t care not when Yoongi just gave away so many different things.
This man leaned right into the whole thing.
“I knew it!” You proclaim in triumph, smacking his thigh while hearing a very elongated ‘shut up’ at your side. “Tried to hide it from me all these months? Somebody’s getting soft.”
“First off.”
“Uh huh.”
God. If only you both could go on one of those late night shopping trips he talked about before. Maybe you could’ve gotten plenty of things. Like some little cat toys, or extra storage cabinets for your clothes.
Yeah. Stuff like that.
“I’m her favorite.”
Your scoff is immediate as you hoist yourself up, leaning on your hand and regretting the burn in your arm. “Only because you gatekeeped her.”
A soft disagreement precedes a more prominent, “Won’t even matter.”
Yoongi looks so at peace when you stare, and your voice calms to match as it floats down, “You took care of her.”
When he only smiles, you decide that this is how you want him to be all the time. Content and outright glowing, fireflies dancing in his eyes.
Does he feel at home, too?
“She was gonna be your surprise,” he finally murmurs. “For getting the gig.”
Heart and tear ducts full, you lower yourself to tenderly press lips to his. And, since it seems to work for you, his forehead is what you decide to kiss next.
Then you pull away.
Wondering why he’s not smiling anymore.
“Come here.”
You blink, lying back down to snuggle against his side. When his arm wraps around your shoulder, it's only then that you’re aware you still have shoes on. A clean person, you hope Yoongi doesn’t mind them touching his sheets.
But maybe it’s a tad too late for that concern.
“How are you gonna get home?”
Oh, right. You use his chest to scratch an itch in your nose before responding, “I’ll call a ride in the morning. He’ll be out cold until noon at the earliest.”
“K.”
“Did I keep you from anything?”
A puff flies out his nostrils. “Kinda late for that, huh.”
“True,” you sigh, berating yourself for thinking a lot of things too late. “Sorry.”
“But no, we were finishing up when I called.”
“Okay… Did I scare you?” You lift your eyes then, because you need to know for sure.
When he levels a look, you curse at his quiet confirmation. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“S’ok.”
“I just… It hurt tonight.” Emotion washes over your face before you bury it. “Really hurt.”
After a light squeeze, Yoongi gently rolls you over, resting his head exactly where your hand clutches your chest. When you move your fingers, he kisses that same spot, and your heart stops. “How about now.”
Feeling the deepest pain you’ve ever felt in your life, you cradle his head with a whisper,
“Maybe try that one more time.”
And he does, not looking at your tears as he sits up to peer down the bed.
When he scoots down to the edge, your breath catches as he holds a heel in sure hands, his back beautiful even with the scars. While he works through leather straps, he starts to speak,
“I always do, babe.”
Blinking, you ask what he means as he slips your shoe off with ease.
“Miss you.”
As he tenderly holds the other, you gulp in oxygen to quell the sear around your eyes. “I just… Wasn’t sure,” you admit, voice wavering.
His hair falls forward when he sighs, and his palms feel way too relaxing to just be taking your heels off. Even now, it feels like he’s revering you. And you truly don’t know how you deserve any of this.
“That’s my fault.”
Throat small, you’re swift to reassure him. “No, no. I need to just suck it up. I’m sorry.”
After freeing your other foot, he rubs it without prompt, and you don’t know how to deal with someone giving you this level of care.
“Just a little bit longer, doll,” he says, and you admire his profile when he turns. “I’m sorry.”
“You gave me tonight.”
When he swallows, you reassure him with all the support you can give,
“A little longer is nothing.”
A moment passes by before he finally moves, and you catch a hint of a smile right before he faces his disheveled to hell desk again.
Deciding that conversation has concluded, you crack the atmosphere with a joke, “You liked whatever happened over there, huh.”
Immediately, Yoongi’s shoulders bob with a laugh before he admits, “Fucking you on my desk? I’ve wanted to do that for months.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He leans forward. “There’s a lot of shit I’ve wanted us to do for months.”
Us.
Thoroughly giddy and full of life again, you egg him on. “Oh? Like what?”
Finally, he looks over his shoulder with a grin, and you scoff in frustration at his answer,
“What’s the fun in telling you?”
“Ass!”
While you’re getting ready to shower, he leans against the doorframe of his bathroom.
“We have a game next week.”
As you fetch a towel from his cabinet, you clarify, “The championship, right?”
“Mmhmm.”
“I’ll be there,” you confirm, walking away to slip the thick cloth over its rack. “I can’t believe it’s still going.”
“Same. But there’ve been a lot of delays, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” Your hand feels out the water, satisfied with its temperature. “I meant your win streak but whatever.”
And you squeal when he rushes forward, shutting the glass with a wobbly thud before he can get to you. When you stick out a childish tongue, you laugh under the spray, curve slowly, curiously, softly fading when he simply keeps staring.
What’s he doing?
You don’t move as he slowly slides the entrance open again, and you don’t dare breathe as he leans inside to kiss your wet lips.
When you tenderly take one of his wrists and pull, he obliges without hesitation, and you take another shower with the man that sets fireworks off in your soul.
An hour later, filled with food and laughter—and slight disappointment when you couldn’t find your surprise near his door—you occupy his bed with full bellies and fresh minds.
As he lies on your chest, you think this is better, because it gives you time to think about things. And tell him about others.
You finally tell him what all happened with Jungkook, to which he listens without a single word. When you can’t seem to shut up about your job, he doesn’t stop you, and you adore the way he cuddles you under faint moonlight cutting through his window.
“Oh, wait,” you stop, feeling like you’ve talked his head off by now. “What did you call about?”
“Huh? Tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“We finally have a confirmed date. For that album,” Yoongi rumbles against the shirt he let you borrow. “I was gonna invite you to the release party.”
Whoa, what the fuck? “Me?”
He chuckles soft, and you wonder if he can guess how shocked you look. “Yes, you. All of y’all.”
At least it’s everyone. But at the same time, you still hesitate. “That won’t be weird?”
“Nah. You can bring anyone you want, so. I was assuming you’d bring your friends.”
“Ah, I see.”
You didn’t mean to sound disappointed. You truly aren’t. But Yoongi pushes up to comfort you anyway, planting kisses along your skin, your neck, and finally your lips.
“It won’t be the only one,” he promises. “We got time.”
“Duh,” you giggle. “And I’ll be at all of them. Whether you like it or not.”
Yoongi regards you before laying his weight back on your chest. And you find it strange how familiar his body already feels. How you’re already attuned to every way his legs fit against your own, or how you would know it’s him solely based on how his chest molds with yours.
You start mindlessly caressing his hair, fingers weaving through a dark sea of strands before smoothing over its surface.
And you start to hum.
It’s not really any song, just notes you start stringing together at random. You build up before you dip back down, staying in a comfortable middle range and dancing between similar tones.
You stop from time to time, trying to figure out what would sound best next and changing up the cadence. Always coming back to a central theme because it’s what you deem best.
And you’re so comfortable that you completely forgot he’s lying right under your chin.
“Shit, was I too loud?”
He just shakes his head, arm pressing a bit more into your side.
“Not at all.”
So you keep going, humming more familiar tunes and phrases, softly giggling when Yoongi huffs at the way you drum on his head.
And that’s how the night goes on, with you at peace and him in your embrace.
Never noticing how the shirt you're wearing collects rain.
When dawn breaks, you part with one final, heavenly kiss.
Yoongi watches until you get in the ride he politely called for you, and you spend the whole drive with eyes filled with light.
You can do this. Just a little longer, he said.
For him, you can do anything.
But when you get home, your brother occupies the foyer as soon as you open the front door.
And you feel the world shatter and crash at your feet.
“I think,” he states, “There’s something you wanna tell me.”
—
—
—
tbc. :)
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a ha ha... what do we think/like! | wanna support with a 🍊?
A/N: i’m so swirly-eyed that i don’t even know what to say here other than i’m sorry for throwing that ending at y’all! busted pt. 2 is gonna be its own huge part at this point so i had no choice but to end it here (originally it was gonna end before they went back to yoongi’s but i love y’all too much dlkfjdsklf)
A/N 2: gonna say this again: enormous thank you to everyone supporting this whole journey, whether that’s liking/commenting/reblogging/messaging, recommending this series to people, telling me how it makes you feel or what it means to you, or even wanting a physical copy of the series like😭 that’s surreal to me and makes me wanna keep working harder.
A/N 3: as far as feedback, i would absolutely love any type y’all wanna give. this chapter took all of my brainpower and the next one is gonna take just as much haahahahdksfks so any encouragement would be wonderful!
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#and the wait is finally over sheeeesh!#bts#bts fic#bts imagines#bts reactions#yoongi fic#yoongi x you#btshoneyhive#bangtanarmynet#bts smut#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#yoongi smut#bts fanfic#*latest#*ryenfictalk#ryenwrites#3tan10#i hope y'all are ok with how much is in here hahahah#yoongi
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( your fault! )
pair: sunghoon x f!reader | genre: fluff, just a tad suggestive, e2??? | warning(s): a soaked white shirt, one swear word lol | wc: 1k ish | synopsis: in which you and sunghoon are very late for school.
lynne’s notez 🗒️ : another consistent post .. who am i
something about you gets under park sunghoon’s skin. normally, he’s calm and collected, but whenever you enter the room it’s like you make it your life’s goal to annoy him to ends meet. you’re constantly poking at him and making small remarks about the way he pushes his hair back or the way his handwriting wasn’t perfect.
“why’s your jacket unbuttoned? tryna impress someone, park?” you’d say, drawing his name out. and he’d intentionally roll his eyes, making sure you saw it. while thinking of a snotty comeback, sunghoon would slyly button up his jacket (the unbuttoned thing was suggested by niki, why sunghoon took the younger’s advice is beyond him). maybe he was upset because you were right or the fact that the person who he was trying to impress didn’t give him a second glance. either way, park sunghoon wasn’t very happy that day.
and of course, you were the one person he bumped into while being late to school. sunghoon had decided that maybe he’d treat himself to some coffee before his classes, but the new barista was very clumsy and had to remake his favorite drink twice! so much that it didn’t even taste like his favorite drink anymore.
while turning the last corner to school, you just had to be in the way. it was almost like the heavens above were punishing him for skipping that one skating practice in eighth grade.
when the two of you collide, sunghoon’s drink goes flying from his hands and because the new barista doesn’t know how to put on the top properly, the contents of his iced mocha land across your white button-up and it immediately soaks through the light material.
“park! are you serious!” you yell suddenly, your hands flying up in frustration. you were already having the worst day. firstly, your alarm was set to 7pm instead of 7am and all of your school blazers had not been done drying since you put them in the washing machine last night. on top of all this you just had to run to into park sunghoon and his stupid iced mocha.
the coffee stains your shirt and you can feel it bleed through the thin fabric, leaving a big black mark across your chest and the unmistakable smell of strong coffee mixing with your perfume. you swear under your breath, reaching up to try and wipe it off with no luck.
you spot a hose attached to the side of a local fish shop, you were sure the owner wouldn’t mind if you used it. without a second thought, you walk over and detach the hose and grab a bucket from the stack nearby (hopefully it hadn’t been filled with fishes beforehand).
sunghoon watches you dumbly as you continue to fill up the bucket. “what are you doing?” he asks and walks over to you to get a closer look. you’ve already pulled your hair to the side as you hand him the bucket.
“you want me to do the ice bucket challenge on you?” sunghoon’s eyes widen at the odd request and you want to strangle him. this was no time for jokes.
“are you an idiot? just pour a little on my shirt to get the stain out. i can’t show up to class an hour late and dirty clothes.” you say irritatingly. you tug on the shirt to get it as far from your skin as possible and pray sunghoon doesn’t get any water on your pants.
“doesn’t this need soap?” sunghoon hesitantly raises the bucket up. although he might hate your guts, dowsing you in fish shop water didn’t seem the most appropriate way to go about this.
“just do it.”
“okay nike,” sunghoon gently pours the water over the stain, careful to not let too much spill out. the more he pours, the more he realizes how close the two of you are and how your shirt seems to become more and more transparent.
your shirt is practically see-through and sunghoon really does try to polite about it without spilling water all over you, but it’s quite hard to contain the water without properly looking at you. there’s a pink that dusts his cheeks and he can’t help but want to bang his head onto a wall.
deciding he’s had enough, sunghoon abruptly drops the bucket to the floor and starts to shrug off his own blazer. he was a gentleman, of course. “wear this.” is all he says, dropping it into your hands.
you eye him suspiciously but take it any way with a small nod of thanks. “this is all your fault yknow?” you say, buttoning his blazer up. it was a bigger than your own, but you should be able to still get away with it at school.
“my fault?” sunghoon says in disbelief. he can’t believe he just gave you his blazer (which he might get written up for for not having) just for you to say that. “it’s not my fault you have a shit sense of direction.” he defends himself surely.
“whatever you say, park.” the nickname rolls off your tongue smoothly and the more you use it, the sweeter it sounds to sunghoon. once you finish putting on the blazer, you reach for your previously discarded backpack, but sunghoon beats you to it.
“what are you doing?” you throw him a confused look as he pulls the straps of your bag over his shoulder.
“it’s the least i could do, i mean it’s my fault, right?” a boyish grin tugs at sunghoon’s lips and he starts walking ahead, forcing you to catch up.
you aren’t sure if it’s his teasing tone, his rolled up sleeves exposing his arms or his stupid smile, but you begin to see sunghoon in a different light.
#kpop#imagines#enhypen#jake#jay#sunghoon#fluff#heeseung#jungwon#niki#sunoo#park sunghoon#jake sim#park jongseong#lee heeseung#kim sunoo#yang jungwon#nishimura niki#sunghoon x reader#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen x reader#enhypen x y/n#sunghoon fluff#enhypen oneshots#enhypen drabbles
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I really liked your dating HCs 😃 wanted to know if you could do the jjk men flirting with a crush HCs? 🥰 just all the stuff they try to do to woo a person if interest 😍
Aww, I'm glad you like my dating HCs! Flirting goes hand in hand with dating as far as I'm concerned, so lets do this!
Now Presenting...
Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna
Kento Nanami
the quiet type
Nanami is so bad at flirting I'm being SO SERIOUS
He doesn't really have the time or energy for it, so it's a struggle for him to flirt.
All I can think about when I think about Nanami flirting is this clip.
I feel like he treats it as a business transaction because that's just what he knows and is familiar with
When he's not being extremely business savvy, he's trying to get to know you as a person.
If you're going to make a relationship work, you have to know that person. So he's asking you about your hobbies, your childhood, your opinions, ect.
Now, I know what you're thinking Dear Reader. "Isn't that just what friends do?"
Yes.
I told you, he's bad at this.
Honestly, you probably wouldn't have any idea he was interested in you romantically until he hits you with that, "I've had feelings for you for a while now, would you like to go out on a date with me?"
BLINDSIDED.
But, honestly? Considering all the Information he's gathered about you it's going to be one of the best dates of your life
After that, his flirting does shaft. It turns more into him sending you “Good morning 💛” texts and checking in on you throughout the day.
Also he cooks for you.
He flirts by learning your favorite dishes and learning how to cook them perfectly.
As far as he’s concerned, cooking for someone is the oldest expression of love and care, and he’s a sucker for cute traditions.
He also starts to recommend media based on things you like. He’s flexing that he knows your taste
Ultimately Nanami flirts by showing that he knows you well, which is weird to say lol.
Suguru Geto
Prince Charming
Charismatic as fuck.
Out of all of these men he's the best at flirting.
Suguru is very manipulative, and that translates Into him being phenomenal at flirting, because he can manipulate your emotions.
I'd give an example but I can't cause he's better at flirting than I am by a mile
I think it's very subtle at first. Almost like him planting the thought of you liking him into your brain.
And once that seed has grown into a full on tree, his flirting becomes more overt, so you know he likes you and you like him
He definitely pebbles.
Giving you wildflowers he picked while the two of you were walking, giving you used books he annotated for you, sending you memes that made him think of you.
Do not be fooled reader, this man is Baby's First Manipulator and this is the start of love bombing.
He writes poetry for you. The type of poetry that when you first read it, it makes you all giggly and love sick, but when you read it after the breakup you realize it was all just pretentious garbage.
SONG RECS.
Geto flirts by giving you song recommendations, sending you music that reminds him of you, videos of live performances he thinks you’d like, and the like.
Music genuinely forms the way this man interacts with the world, so when he starts sending you love songs that should honestly be the first hint that he’s into you.
He sends his homies over to go and hype him up to you, that's the vibe
The moment you say you’re cold he's covering you in his jacket.
“Where's my hug?”
Ok, no to the last point but also yes kinda.
I swear I physically CANNOT bring myself to be nice to Suguru
Satoru Gojo
the goofball
“Like my shirt? It’s made of boyfriend material.”
“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”
“Did it hurt when you fell? Cause you're the only Ten I See…wait, I think I fucked that one up.”
Gojo is CHEESY I TELL YOU. MAN IS DRIPPING IN CRINGE, DO YOU HEAR ME?!
But, it’s almost charming just how earnest he is in trying to woo you.
He sends you those couple memes like “this could be us but you playin’” paired with a picture of minecraft diamond armor Halloween costumes
He takes you to watch slasher movies so you get scared and cling to him, but ends up getting spooked and clinging to you.
When he looks at you you just see his eyes glittering with adoration
When he looks at you he just sees you through the Shojo vision filter
He always looks for a reason to touch you. Brushing your hair behind your ears, his knees brushing yours when you sit next to each other, anything. As long as you’re comfortable with it of course.
He slips notes into your pocket with other cheesy pick up lines or cute little doodles.
It starts with him just jokingly flirting to hide his real emotions, but it only makes his heart burn brighter for you.
You noticed it, when slowly it turns from him laughing after a cheesy pick up line to him nervously chuckling and trying to hide his blush.
He can’t look at you without smiling, at least just a little bit.
His heart gets fluttery and he starts to get a little more stuttery.
He decides that just flirting and leaving the chance of a relationship just hanging over you, indefinite and fuzzy, hurts WAY MORE than any possible rejection could hurt
He slips a note into your pocket that's like “Wanna go on a date with me? For real this time! Yes No”
Gojo’s flirting just shows his inexperience with romance and seduction tactics, but it’s almost charming in that way
Ryomen Sukuna
The Monster
This man is Radioactive besties, idk how to tell you want nothing he’s peddling.
He doesn't even flirt.
His flirting is telling you you belong to him and slaughtering anyone who dares to disagree.
He flirts by being nice to you homie.
Actually, no, scratch that. He flirts by not being actively hostile.
His tsundere ass would literally kidnap you, force you to spend as much time with him as inhumanly possible, and still be like “I don't understand why you think i like you.”
Basic kindness is his flirting. Like, honestly I don’t know to go about his section of this because he just doesn’t flirt LMAO
Him flirting is him just like, staring at you like a weirdo and just expecting you to know what that means
Him flirting is calling you woman instead of wench
On the real though, flirting is mostly seen in him being over protective of you.
Like, god help any other person that talks to you where he can see it.
He’s going to choke slam them.
He picks on other people than immediately looks at you for approval because he thinks that sharing violence is flirting.
Honestly, that’s how he flirts. He goes out of his way to try and gain your approval.
He’s like a cat that brings you a dead bird, only the dead bird was another possible suitor.
Except he doesn’t know how to be a decent human being so it’s just him doing the most unhinged and horrific shit then looking at you like “I do good?”
No Ryomen, you don’t do good.
And yet, you’ve won my heart anyway. What a bother.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#ryomen sukuna#satoru gojo#kento nanami#suguru geto#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#nanami x reader#suguru x reader#sukuna x reader#gojo headcannons#nanami headcanons#sukuna headcanons#suguru headcanons#geto headcanons#jjk headcanons
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Fool Me Once (part 6)
Pairing(s): Aemond Targaryen x reader (kind of lol), Aegon ii x reader, Rhaenyra x Alicent if you squint
Summary: You unlock new information as you descend for Dragonstone
A/N: sooo we are getting into the fun part (imo).. the character study and canon divergence! Just fair warning that this story is not going to go exactly like f&b or like the show. There will be elements taken from both. Can go ahead and let y’all know this will not be about who sits in the end, but more the chaos to get there. This also means different povs which is exciting. This chapter is sort of prepping everything for the next phase 😎
Fmo masterlist
“This seems like a convoluted plan, just for end goal for Aegon to be King,” Helaena sits in the middle of you chambers watching you pack.
“It is not about Aegon being king,” you reply, inspecting one your dresses. You scrunch you nose up and put it back in the closet. Perhaps it is best to stay away from green during your stay.
It may not be the story you told the Hand when he gave you the go ahead to leave. He thinks this whole plot is to lure Rhaenyra into a false sense of hope. Have her taste the thing she has wanted for so long before she fails miserably. This goes far beyond Aegon at this point. Him being king would just be a unexpected change. The rightful choice in the eyes of some. The crumbling of the realm in others.
“Upsetting the succession now could lead to upheaval,” Helaena does not seem to believe you.
“Do you really think I care about Rhaenyra’s reign when my kids are involved?”
It comes out more snappy than you intended. Helaena’s shoulders drop a bit. You know Helaena is just as protective over her kids as you are of yours. If there was a chance to strike the people who hurt them, she’d take the same shot. But, you know she is worried about what Aegon being king means for her family. You sigh and run your hand over your face. Putting down the clothes, you walk and sit next to her.
“We have given ourselves enough for this family and for the realm,” you whisper. “I am done with that.”
It sounds bratty, and selfish. You have given up so much, so has Helaena and Alicent, and yet you all are still expected to take things with a smile. Pretty, accommodating, and benevolent that you have the Targaryen name. Or in your case, that you can marry someone with that last name and everything that comes with it.
If you take the swing and miss, so be it. Sitting idle while those walk all over you has done nothing but put you and your children’s safety in danger. Your natural softness taken for weakness.
“And… Queen Helaena does not have bad ring to it,” you nudge her playfully, and she snorts in reply.
“Maybe Aemond will be king, and you’ll be queen,” it’s said in a teasing tone but then she grows a bit serious. “Aegon would probably give it up… if he got something in return.”
An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. Neither of them are ready to rule, but then again who is. Aegon would make a charismatic, even forbearing king; he has a disarming way about him that would work in his favor. Though, his inability to check his emotions would get in the way. He goes by the sound of his heart, and whims of his desires. Aemond, your painfully pragmatic husband, would rule dogmatically. But his inability to emote or to be empathetic would make him volatile… maybe even cruel.
Then you have Rhaenyra, the Realm’s Delight. Even from when you were young, all you ever heard was how lovely she is. Never how smart or capable she is to rule; it always went back to her beauty and her fiery nature. You still do not know if that was her unfortunate lot in life because of her gender or rather no one can praise her readiness, because she simply is not. And her case is not helped in your eyes with someone like Daemon in her corner.
One thing they do share is an incompetent father, so any hopes for learning how it is done was quickly diminished. Sitting on the Iron Throne may not be something that can be taught. Viserys came after Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s long reign. A reign considered to be a successful one, and Viserys seemingly picked up nothing about being proactive.
You take a good look at Helaena. If it someone you will whole heartedly miss while away, it is your good sister. Helaena, who is everything good about the Targaryen name: warm, loyal, and untamed. But also kind, and way more analytical than people give her credit for. Helaena the Dreamer… Helaena the Great.
“We could make it so you could rule.”
She gives your proposition a scrunched up face, and laugher. Sharp and bright. You know she has no desire to rule, but you can not help but think she would be good at it.
“If that is the case, you have to rule with me,” she takes your hand with a soft smile.
You imagine a world where all the men have rode off to fight their war. The women left to rule over a piles of ash, tired small folk, and elusive nobility. Two queens - just you, Helaena, and the children.
What a life to live.
A knock on the door interrupts Aemond’s reading.
“Do not come in,” he does not even look up from the book. Despite his wishes, a head of short silvery hair pops in. “I said do not come in.”
Aegon pays his brother no mind, breezily waltzing into Aemond’s study. He sits in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk with a sigh, as if he was begrudgingly summoned. Aemond tries to go back to reading, but it is hard to when his brother is staring at him expectedly.
Large, expecting eyes boring into him. He hates how much he looks like their mother in certain lights.
“What,” he finally snaps, and Aegon just smiles softly. In that warm way that makes people feel like they can let their guard down. Aegon always had way of making people feel like they are in on the joke he about to tell. Aemond has learned not to fall for the smile; he’s been on the other side of the joke too much to trust it.
“Are you going to see your wife off,” Aegon keeps his tone even, not giving anything away. His voice lifting a bit when he says wife.
Aemond tries equally hard not to let his mask slip. “No, she said it would better to do that behind closed doors.”
Something about him sending you off would defeat the purpose of it looking like you are upset enough to leave. Aemond had felt his eye glaze over a bit when you were explaining everything. When he first lost his eye, he would get head-splitting headaches. He hated taking milk of the poppy for them. Criston would tell him to turn his brain off, try not to think of the pain.
He finds himself still doing it to this day. Whenever he feels that tingle in the back of head, he clears his mind. For someone who constantly has things racing through his mind, he has gotten surprisingly good at it.
He had felt a cool hand on his forehead. You have that look in your eye you had said, hand traveling towards his cheek. You do that to Daella and Alaric too. He does not know if it a mother thing, or just a you thing.
It broke him out of his self-inflicted daze, just like how Aegon’s humming interrupts his thoughts of you now.
“I suppose that is best,” Aegon leans back in the seat casually. Aemond just sighs, waiting for the next stone to turn. He knows his brother did not come just to ask that especially when he could have just asked you himself.
Aegon seems to be lit from within. As each day passes, his brother shifts into a different person. The difference makes it hard for anyone to be upset at the cause of Aegon’s new attitude. A happy Aegon is not something anyone should take for granted.
“Is that all,” Aemond would like to get out of this conversation with his headspace in tact. The disarming charm of Aegon is often followed by deep disappointment.
Even with Aegon’s new disposition, the two of them still cannot see things the same. The deeply hidden flickers of hope Aemond has for reconcilement between him and his brother leave his body slowly but surely. It is better that way. Hold no hope, and the let down never comes.
The mirth that radiates off Aegon switches quickly.
“I just hope it was all worth it in the end,” his tone is sharp, and cold. Aemond instinctively flitches as Aegon’s large eyes bore into him. He hates how much Aegon looks like their mother in certain lights. It feels like he’s being scolded by her.
“But then again, how could it be? You have been living a great love affair that turns out to be a farce,” Aemond’s eye twitches a bit. “It is something I have always loved about you, brother. You always do things with all your might. No half battles for you; even in your fuck ups.”
And he hates how deeply his brother makes him feel. Skin crawling childhood memories rush over him. If it is one thing Aemond hates, it is the feeling of being backed into a corner.
“No whore, and wife and children to descend away with our sister and her bastards.”
For a moment, Aemond thinks about lunging over the desk at Aegon. But he knows exerting strength over Aegon does nothing now, not the way it did many moons ago when Aemond had his growth spurt. Just another notch in the post of things that made the brothers resent each other.
That reason seems silly compared to the others.
He knows Aegon is not just doing this for you, he enjoys the taunting in the way only a brother would. The same way only siblings would worry and focus on what one has over the other. A childish mindset that neither of them grown out of unfortunately.
They will always measure themselves against each other. Aegon with Aemond’s relationship with their mother. Aemond watching Aegon squander and relinquish any want for power or duty that could be attached to his name. And now you.
The words crawl up Aemond’s throat, and itch his tongue. He wants to say it so badly, what he has been thinking about ever since a couple of nights ago.
“You never even wanted her till she was upset with me,” Aemond blurts. He sounds like child. How he did when he would go to Alicent, near tears, when he was younger.
When he was young, he dreamed for the day to be older, more reassured, not to feel so small. Now he is older, and free feeling he wanted still had not come. Sometimes Aemond has to pinch himself. On the arm, on his thigh, or even on the stomach; he must remind himself that he was not one and ten anymore. He is a man grown.
Some days the pinching works. Or he hears Alaric’s babbling in the room, and he brought back to reality. He is painfully grounded to the situation when he looks at his children. Other days, like today, he thinks of you and prays for the days when he was younger and his biggest worry was gaining a dragon.
A thought he never expected to have.
Occasionally, he wishes he were Helaena. His sister has expressed the grief that comes with her visions, but Aemond would gladly switch places. If it is one thing their foolish father was right about, it is that the power of dragons is nothing compared to the power of prophecy. A dragon cannot makeup for the pure magic that has been left behind. Alys taught him that as well.
He pinches himself extra hard at thought of her.
If he could master the magic of his ancestors, he could go back and change so many things. He wonders how much good he could do… or how much damage.
Aegon does not bother to give Aemond a rebuttal to that comment. Just lets the easy smile he had on before reappear on his face. He can tell by the look on Aemond’s face that he is unraveling. Aegon might gotten their mother’s face, but Aemond got her ability to be a prisoner to their own thoughts.
“We just better hope not a single hair on her head is harmed while she is there.”
Aegon gets up and leaves after that. They important part is left unsaid and implied. I’ll come after you if she gets hurt. This is your fault.
Aemond knows his brother will just be one person in a line of people who would want his head if this all blows up in your face. That is alright.
Perhaps the brothers do have one thing in common. If something does happen, he just might beat everyone to the punch on that one.
You had expected Otto to tell Alicent about you going to Dragonstone. But, the worried look she gave you when you mentioned it told you otherwise.
It affirmed to you that he was going to leave his daughter in the dark for as long as possible. You could not decipher if it was for her feelings and safety or because he knew Alicent would shut down any activity that could be seen as treasonous to Rhaenyra’s claim.
It took Rhaenyra, who Alicent had convinced to stay a few more days, telling her that it was Baela and Rhaena’s idea to calm Alicent’s anxious attitude. Reiterating that it would be nice to have you and Daella around to balance out the male energy at Dragonstone. The lie slid out of Rhaenyra’s mouth with ease. She had given you a knowing look.
You knew better than to think Rhaenyra would tell Alicent it was because of Aemond, the reason she believes, but the easy nature in which she deceives Alicent does make you sad.
The easy nature in which everyone deceives Alicent makes you sad. And now even you are not above that.
To get rid of that sick feeling in your stomach, you convince yourself Alicent knows better than to believe everything that comes out of Rhaenyra’s mouth. The same way you believe Rhaenyra knows better than to tell Alicent the whole truth. This is how their relationship is. Half truths and arguments. Pining and pushing. You can tell by the way they smile at one another that in the end it will always be them for each other; lies and all.
Sadism and Masochism in a different kind of way.
“The King and I will miss seeing the kids,” Alicent remarked.
You had to hold back a grimace. Daella and Jaehaera would often go and see their grandsire, at his behest. Hear him ramble on and on about whatever he could remember that day; often old histories. Daella has told you she hated it because he ‘smelled foul’. The statement had made Aegon cry with laughter.
Viserys had only seen Alaric twice since his birth. The first time you had to drag Aemond with you. Juggling two big babies that day.
You had watched Aemond bite back a sneer the entire time. Even Alicent made a face when Viserys mumbled something about Alaric already having a warrior spirit like his father. You supposed you cannot blame them for their apprehension. The jovial tone of his voice nothing like what Aemond heard growing up. It only leaves a bitter taste in everyone’s mouth.
You wanted to say Viserys’ delusions were illness driven, only getting worse with age. But he has always underestimated the damage he did with his kids. Viserys underestimates a lot of things.
The second time he saw Alaric, your sweet boy had decided to spit up all over the King. Then it was Aemond’s turn to laugh.
Viserys is so out of the loop. He seems to think your trip to Dragonstone was a testament to his grand showing for Rhaenyra. That his dinner speech moved you to the point of wanting to connect to the other of your husband’s family.
It is assumed that using Baela and Rhaena as a cover was not fully convincing to Alicent.
“Space can be a treasure at times,” Alicent whispered to you, squeezing your hand. “A new beginning once you get back.”
All you could do was hum in acknowledgment and try to smile. You cannot help but wonder how Alicent will respond if you get tangible proof that Rhaenyra had something to do with Alys. Would it ruin the move to reconciliation? Would it even matter by the time Rhaenyra is to take the throne?
If you cannot dwell too much; one foot in front of the other. The preparations to set sail with Rhaenyra were all prepped.
Your night was interrupted by a knock at the door. The knuckles on the door tapping to the tune of a Braavosi song you like. Aegon.
You have to bite back a smile. The two of you have not talked since the night of the dinner. It is a strange ordeal. Going from purposely ignoring each other’s existences to now a few days of not speaking feeling foreign. He sticks his head in with a sheepish look.
Men will always come back with their tails tucked between their legs when they think it is worth it
Your mother’s words playing your head. Instead of focusing Aegon, your mind drifts to Aemond. You know it is a point of contention for them, but it is hard not to compare them. Especially when they act so differently at times. To see Aemond grovel would be a sight. Perhaps he has before… just not for you.
He says nothing when he comes in, eyes fluttering over your pale blue night gown. You sigh, tying your robe around you. For all Aegon can be when he tries - sweet, observant, loyal to a fault. He’s still same boy in his bones; easily swayed by pretty things.
“Yes, Aegon?”
He still does not say anything, instead, he pulls a small box out of his pocket and hands it to you. Shy like a child trying to evade a scolding. You narrow your eyes at him, but still open the box.
Inside was dainty chain silver. Hanging from it was a bright yellow stone surrounded by pale pink ones. You shoulders slump. It’s beautiful, and entirely too much. Much like the man who is trying to give it to you.
“Is this your attempt at an apology,” you give a weak laugh.
“No,” he waves that notion off. “I am not going to apologize for vocalizing how bad of an idea I think this is. Though I know there is no stopping you once you set your mind to something.”
You know it would be hypocritical to judge Aegon and Aemond’s paranoia towards their older sister. She has not given them a reason to have faith in her. Neither has their uncle, who only seems to show up in moments of chaos. Those feelings are reciprocated by Rhaenyra and her family towards them.
“Think of it as more of a promise,” he walks towards to you, and the box suddenly feels like it weighs as much as a horse.
Chewing on the side of you cheek, you shake your head. “I cannot accept this Aegon. You are very kind but… I cannot.”
You never want to think the worst of people; even Aegon, who you have an admittedly rocky past with. It has never been your nature, till recently. Gifts leading to promises; promises leading to expectations you don’t know if you can handle. The affection of people in the Red Keep, especially the men, constantly wane.
It is hard not to blame your mother for how you feel right now. For every drop of wisdom she instilled in you, she left touches of fragility and fear. She made sure to reiterate the importance of having powerful people, specifically powerful men, in your corner but never explained what do to when the debt comes due.
It may not be what Aegon meant but these thoughts plague you often as loyalties shift. Even the most attentive, and helpful people want something in return. What happens when those expectations can not be met? Does the goodwill dry up?
Sensing your nerves, gently takes your wrist pulling you closer. “You are not alone in this. We are all here if you need to get out of there,” he pauses for a moment before cracking a smile. “Even Aemond would hop on Vhagar if something happened.”
You raise a brow, not knowing if this is him trying to cheer you up or if he genuinely believes it. You actually think the old beast probably likes you more than your husband most days. You hold back a shudder thinking about your first meeting with Vhagar. Beady eyes following you before huffing in approval. You remember the smell of sheep on her breath.
“She likes you!” Aemond seemed so happy she did.
Things were simpler back then. Mindless courting and no pain. You had fooled yourself into thinking everything would work itself out.
As if he heard you two speaking about him, the sounds of heavy boots echo through the halls.
As if a spell had been broken, Aegon lets go of your wrist giving you.
“Remember aim for the jugular or heart, and drive through.”
You laugh and roll your eyes. Criston had preached no mercy during their lessons, and it seems to be the only thing that stuck with Aegon.
Aemond interrupts you two by coming in, stopping in his tracks when he sees you both. He blinks blankly before sighing and going over to sit.
“Have fun with that,” Aegon whispers, before leaving.
You realize he never takes back the necklace. Think of it as a promise. He never told you what that promise was.
———
When Aemond was young, he over heard his grandsire speaking to his mother about him.
“You coddle him too much Alicent,” his voice gravely. “He is never going to grow up hiding beneath your skirts. It’s probably why he had not gained a dragon yet.”
She just stood and took it because that is what his mother always does when it comes to her father, or with Viserys. She had learned the art of taking everything and internalizing it. And then she wonders why he children do the same.
Aemond is master of it. He adds to the list of things he has grown quite good at. Along with his training with the sword, and his ability to retain things he learned through reading. Showing any emotion has only failed him over the years.
The only time he finds reprieve is at night.
The dreams tend to be the same each night. You standing over him, Dark Sister in hand, and unbridled hatred in your eyes. Aemond cannot call them nightmares in good faith; he finds them too entertaining for that. He does not know how you got the sword, but that is just another exciting part about the dreams. His mother did always say he had a morbid sense of humor.
The image of you having blade to him breaks up the monotony of life. In fact, he is sure he likes dream you more than the one he sees everyday. Dream you lacks the shiny luster that the real you carries. There is something so unapologetic about the look of disgust on your face. Some nights you slit his throat, quick and to the point. A merciful kill. Other times you take his other eye. The chambers ablaze; he sees and feels the heat before everything goes dark.
“Aemond, are you listening to me,” you sigh, breaking him out of his thoughts.
All he can do is look at you. You look ethereal, back lit by the fires throughout the room. Unwavering stares is all he can give you these days. In the early days of your marriage, you used to look away when the looks were to much. Now, you just stare back; eyes tired yet soft. Perhaps it is the inability for you harden yourself that makes the dreams so welcomed. He selfishly wants you to debase yourself the way he has. Aemond knows it is in there, but you are too smart to let it show in that way.
Maybe you will come back from Dragonstone, with untamed loathing in your heart, and Dark Sister attached to you. The spirits of the mad Targaryens that roam Dragonstone compelling you to snap. The dream you and the real one will merge into something terrifyingly beautiful.
What a way that would be to go.… in fire and blood.
The departure from King’s Landing went as smoothly as you could hope. Alicent and Helaena saw you off with sad smiles. The ship pulled off, and it felt like a momentary breath of relief. Sometimes you felt locked away in the King’s Landing
“Quite watchful, is she not,” Rhaenyra laughed. At first you thought she was speaking about Alicent. You turned towards the Red Keep to see Vhagar flying a comfortable distance behind. “She will turn back, right?”
You nod perplexed, watching as Daella waves at Vhagar.
You think back to laughing when Aemond asked if Daella would miss him, and she replied with a shrug and reminded him to feed Vhagar extra sheep while she is away. His sour disposition melts when she gives him a kiss on the cheek before she sprinted to say goodbye to her cousins. You try not to shift awkwardly when he kisses you on the cheek and tells you to be safe.
Eventually Vhagar does turn back, after circling the ship a couple of times.
You go to put Alaric down for a nap in one of the bottom room. When you first had him, his silence used to worry you. Often you found yourself leaning over his cot to see if he was still breathing. He sleeps like the dead, and stares as if he knows something you do not. The stare would be slightly menacing if it was not attached to such a cute face.
Ser Quinton comes in, and quietly closes the door. He looks as uneasy as you feel. He seems to share the same skepticism everyone has about this little getaway.
“You were right about Jayne,” his voice is low as he sits on the bed next to you. “She about the tunnels. Said she was a disciple of someone named Mysaria.”
The name is so familiar but you can’t put your finger on it.
“How did you find that out?”
“Do you really want to know that,” he grimaces. The last time you saw Jayne, Quinton had lied to her and said the Queen wanted to see her. You are sure she went to the dungeons, where all the people who are accused of treason go. Your heart feels heavy at the thought of her being tortured.
It was a hard pill swallow. Jayne had been with you since Daella was born. How long had she been watching you for?
“I need you to promise me something,” you whisper to him. “If anything were to happen, I need make sure the kids are you first priority. Their safety is of the upmost importance… even if it means leaving me behind.”
Quinton frown deeply. “I am your protector, I would n-“
“And as my protector, I am asking you do this for me. Think of everything you feel for me, and do this please.”
You squeeze his arm. After a moment of silence, he nods solemnly.
You know when you have reached Dragonstone because smell is like nothing you have encountered before. Putrid almost. You thought the Red Keep was as somber as a place could get; you were terribly wrong.
The bright look that crosses Rhaenyra’s face makes you jealous. You often envious of the way the Targaryens around you moved. Viserys, despite being the king, had little care for things that did not benefit him. Aemond saunters into rooms like he owns it, Aegon followed his own rules to a fault. Rhaenyra seems to revel in the privilege that came with her name. Even Helaena had came into her own, embracing the things people see as odd.
You felt like your good was not good enough, but you think of what your father would tell you when you were young.
The best people are often underestimated, use that to your advantage.
And use it you will.
Taglist: @afro-hispwriter @blazzlynch @thenovelcarnival @lyra689 @savinasavers @cruelmissdior @lunablade @minttea07 @shintax-error @queenofshinigamis @httyd-marauders
#will add to ao3 soon I promise#aemond targaryen angst#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x fem!reader#Aegon ii x reader#hotd imagine#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen#aegon ii targaryen
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HIHI UHMMM would you be willing to do an nsfw havik mk1 // ftm reader fic ?? :33 YOU CAN DO WHATEVER WITH IT REALLY UHM..
preferably bottom reader // him being possessive would be kewl THANK YOUU
All Mine ── Dairou "Havik"
➭ Havik × ftm reader
CW: cunt and pussy used, some bleeding, possessiveness
A/N: I'm doing post melted face Havik lol. Idk, I just think it's kinds hot... 🙈. Tried to fill in the backstory as to why he was being so possessive and might not be exactly lore accurate but I tried my best lol. Technically an AU???? Idk really (havik trying to turn Orderrealm into chaosrealm ig). Hope you like ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)
Havik has tooken you back to his home in Seido, where he leads a rebellion against the overbearing government of Orderrealm. His regime has taken over a township of Seido where they plan their crusade. The town has no rules, no laws, just totally freedom which they don't get from their home originally. Havik, although an anarchist leads them (until a revolution), so he doesn't suspect their behavior when he brings you around.
It's your first time being showed around the place, Dairou allows you to explore freely, following close behind you. You're surprised to see the condition most of the townsfolk are in. Beaten up and scarred, bloodied and bruised. Your lover had already explained to you how there is really no law here, he just leads them to eventually overtake Seido. So everyone is pretty battered from fights and other things, sorta like a way to relieve stress after being under such strict rule.
But just as you gawk at them they gawk at you. You're pristine, not one bruise on you. Well.. Maybe a couple from Dairou but nothing too serious. You look different too, I mean you're still human clearly, but it doesn't take them long to figure out you're from earthrealm. The way you dress and talk really says it all.
Havik watches angry as his followers flawk around you curiously, checking out the shiny new toy from earth, and you are painfully unaware. He fights the urge to kill the man that gently places his hand on your lower back. "What's someone like you doing here," The man asking, flashing a grin that's missing a few teeth. "Looks like you need to be roughed up." He's teasing you, Dairou almost steps in but doesn't when you politely refuse, telling him you're actually here with your lover. The man turns to see Havik following close behind, glaring angrily at the man.
The whole day goes like this, people coming up to greet you, for good and bad. Some genuinely curious and other with darker thoughts in mind, thinking how fun it might be to corrupt a mere earthrealmer. So by the time the two of you get home Havik is seething. You barley make it through the huts opening before he's pulling you twords his bed. You laugh playfully, asking why he was so eager. Dairou doesn't answer, sliding his hands under your shirt, rubbing your sides with his calloused hands.
You try to ask him what's wrong but he's already pushed you onto his bed, his hands continue to roam underneath your top. He licks the side of your neck, relishing in he way you moan when he rubs you hardened nipples. He's frustrated with his lack of lips, wishing he could litter you with hickeys all over where people can see, maybe that way they'd know who you belong too. He chuckles lowly, knowing exactly what to do now.
"Forgive me, my love." Dairou purrs, and just as you're about to ask what for he bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder. It's enough to make you bleed and he laps it all up, moaning at the taste. You whimper slightly, the pressure of his tongue on your freshly injured skin makes you hiss. "Maybe now people won't want to play with what's mine." He mumbles, pushing his teeth against your neck to imitate a kiss.
Dairou pulls your shirt off of you, his thumbs brush at the scars just below your nipples, admiring them like always. He happy to know he's not the only one with scars. Havik licks them passionately, making you moan as his tongue teasingly flick over your nipple. His fingers hook around your waistband, pulling down both your pants and underwear slowly, causing you to shiver as the cold air makes contact with your needy t-dick. "I was bothered all day, they all couldn't keep their hands off of you." You lover rants, licking a long strip from your bellybutton down to you needy hole. You try to tell him that it was nothing and that you're sure they were just being nice but he cuts you off when he pushes his face into your dripping cunt.
A moan it ripped from you as his proceeds to fuck you on his tongue. Your hands tangle through his hair, pulling him impossible closer. Havik groans lowly, the vibration of it makes your eyes roll back. He's especially good with his tongue, he's learned to please you without his lips, and god did he learn well. Just as your hips begin to rock against his face he pulls away, laughing softly as you pathetically whine for more. "Don't worry, I'll have you screaming just from my cock in a second," he teases, standing to pull down his pants, your watch as his hard cock springs up, the tip beaded with precum. "That way everyone can hear how good I make you feel." You scoff, watching as Dairou positions himself between your legs. He'll make sure you'll regret that.
Havik bottoms out instantly, sighing at the feeling of you velvet walls, smirking as you groan and grip the sheets. His pace is awfully slow, but each thrust it hard and knocks the air out of your lungs. He lifts your legs over his shoulders before leaning down into you, your legs pressed against your chest as he pounds into your wetness. Your greedy cunt squeezes around his dick, covering it with your arousal. You beg him to go faster and of course he obliges, speeding up at you request. He watches your every expression, proud of himself when he hears you moan. You try to express your need to keep it down, seeing as it's not like a house on earthrealm with walls no one would really hear you through, instead in a large hut stationed in the epicenter of the town. Dairou can care less, and if anyone had something to say about it he'd kill them himself.
He presses his teeth against your sweating forehead, humming softly as you beg for release, and he let's you, your legs shaking as you moan. "Mm, you feel so good. Look at how you suck me in even after all that," He pulls away, letting your legs fall to rest around his waist. Havik still fucks you, ignoring you overstimulated whining. "You keep whining but look, your body yearns for me. It's ok, I'll help you feel better." You face burns hot at his words, watching him lick his teeth, like he's about to devour you. You've failed horribly at trying to keep quiet and that only encourages your lover to keep going.
Dairou's hands never leave you body, squeezing your thighs between his large hand, resting the other on your stomach where he can feel himself inside of you. He wishes you could see yourself through his eyes, your a complete mess underneath him. The sight of you wrapped snuggly around his cock brings him to his end. He cums inside of you, pulling out to pump the rest out onto your stomach. His eyes are shut, jaw clenching as he moans for you. Just as you're about to doze off he pushed his length into you again, fucking his seed deep inside of you.
──
You swear it's been hours at this point, and Dairou is relentless. He's made you cum at least 5 times and he's only on his second. With each orgasm the more loud you become, the more sensitive you feel under his muscular body. "Just one more, can't you do that for me?" He asks sweetly, as if he's not gonna make it happen anyway. You nod you head, not even sure if you fully comprehend what he said, your brain effectively turned to mush.
Your boyfriends thumb rubs at you throbbing cock, your back arching off of the mattress. You cry desperately as he fucks you, screaming his name as it all becomes just to much. His breathing is heavy, jaw hung open as he takes in as much air as he can. Havik moans as he feels your abused pussy spasm around his cock, a mix of his and your own cum make a mess of your thighs and his lower abdomen. "Yeah, good boy, just like that, cum on my cock. Your perfect, perfect for me. " His head falls back, large hands gripping the fat of your hips as he finishes for a third time, praise pouring out of his mouth.
You whine softly, watching as he pulls himself away from you. Your cunt clenches around nothing, dripping with his hot cum. Dairou rolls over onto his side, pulling you into his chest with big arms. You can feel the bite marks of your neck beginning to bruise over, hissing when he pseudo-kisses it. After a little while, once you've come too, you tease him about it. He scoffs, "There's nothing wrong with making sure people know what's mine." but you're positive all of Seido knows now.
He urges you to sleep, promising to carry you around all of tomorrow because he knows you won't be able to walk, at least not well. You fall asleep happily to the thought of your anarchists, anti-government, big and scary boyfriend at your aid for a whole day.
A/n: ok that's all :P, I also promised I'd right more BUT I'M SUCH A LIAR SORRY, trying to do my request now because it literally just saw them idk why I hadn't noticed so sorry if this is late :/
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hii idk if u are taking request (if you're not ignore this lmao) but could you write some todd anderson fluff? my sister moved away and im feeling kinda sad :( idk if you write for todd either lol anyways love ur account!!
1:05
pairing: todd anderson x reader
summary: a silly little game of tickle fight with todd.
word count: 1.1k
a/n: ofc! <3 i was supposed to keep this short but i'm an absolute sucker for fluff so i went a little overboard hhfhhfhefdfr i hope u like it!
masterlist
it was starting to get repetitive. the few episodes you watched earlier were somewhat more entertaining, or shall you say as entertaining as watching a lawyer defend their client gets. there were moments where it really got you and todd riled up, but after that it'll just be another line of the guy on screen describing to you what a public defender is.
'the court is adjourned!' the voice of the guy on screen shouted as he banged his gavel on the wooden sound block, signalling that the aired episode was over.
"i'm starting to get sick of this bart matthew guy's face. how long have we been watching?" you asked, leaning your head further into todd's body until it was on his lap.
"i think it we started at season 1, we've been at it for a while." todd said as he reached for the remote controller, "do you want me to switch the channel, love?"
"okay, maybe that show my mom watches is on. the eve garden something?" you sat up and pondered with a hand on your chin.
"it's eve arden, i've seen bits of it a few times."
you hastily laid back down and yawned as you shook your head in understanding, moving on your side to watch todd fiddle with the remote controller in search for a good show. sunday afternoons were usually like this, rather than going out and doing activities that would require human interaction, todd would instead show up at your front door to spend time with you, saving you both the time and effort of socialising─ which you knew todd preferred. for the next few hours, you'd both be huddled in bed or on the couch in each other's arms, reading each other silly poems and stories you'd make up, or watch tv until the sun goes down. to some it might be boring, yes, but nothing's boring when it's with todd.
"hey todd?"
he hummed as he moved his focus away from the television and onto you, who was staring up at him with an all too familiar look on your face. you were about to crack a bad joke.
"what is it called-"
"please make it a good joke this time."
"it is! i guarantee you that you'll laugh your knickers off!"
he once again hummed as he raised his eyebrows with a skeptical look, he knew the joke would be so stupid that it wasn't the joke he's laughing at─ but the sheer stupidity of it is what makes him snicker. he let's it slide though, since he gets to see that bright smile of yours every time.
"alright so, what is it called when the doctor has to tickle you to see if you're conscious?"
todd shook his head, he has no idea what it could be. it could be anything! "i don't know, what?"
"a test tickle." you let out an obnoxious laugh with a slap to the knee as you cackled at your own joke. he on the other hand can't help but wonder where do you get all these jokes from?
"that was a bad joke."
"no it's not! i made you laugh, you're laughing right now!"
"you can hardly consider this laughing!"
an idea came to your mind as soon as the words left your lover's mouth. his face contorted in worry when he saw you move back a little on your side of the couch, and you had this... mischievous expression on. you were up to something.
"hmm... it wouldn't be laughing if i did this then?" you suddenly jumped onto him and started tickling his sides, earning yourself a loud snort from todd.
"w-wait- this isn't- this isn't fair!" his face was turning red with how hard he was laughing. you weren't prepared though when abruptly he flipped you on your back, effectively halting you of your attack and giving you a taste of your own medicine.
the only thing that could be heard in your living room was the sound of you and todd cackling like maniacs. to the people outside your house, they could've easily mistaken it as two children playing. in the middle of your tickle-fighting, todd tried to escape from your unforgiving grasp and tried to make a run from it. you attempted grabbing onto his torso to prevent him from leaving your clutches, but instead of successfully being able to pull him back─ you instead got a hold of his pajamas that he was wearing that day and pulled down. accidentally revealing what was he was wearing that day. in your terms he technically he did laugh his underwear off, except it was his pants.
"h-hey you can't do that!" todd stuttered as his laughed grew even louder. he scrambled to pull his pants back up and almost fell over in the process. your stomach was starting to hurt, and your eyes were welling with tears as you caught a glimpse of his boxers, he had the superman ones that you gave him as joke on his birthday on.
after he got a good distance between the two of you, and after he successfully pulled his pajamas back up, he calmed down to catch his breath which was ragged from all the laughing. you, who was on the couch, were lying on your stomach, you hushed snickers muffled by the couch as you watched him. the memory of his boxers that were now covered by his pants still lingering in your mind.
to control your own breathing, since you were also out of breath, you momentarily closed your eyes with a tired smile on. you forgot how draining tickle fights were. "i must say, what manly boxers you have, mr. anderson."
unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend was slowly creeping his way behind the couch on his tippy toes. it looks like the war wasn't over. when you didn't hear from him, you lifted your head up to check if he was still where you last saw him before you closed your eyes.
"todd?-"
suddenly, you felt something very heavy being pressed onto your entire body─ causing you to shriek in surprise. it was todd. he was laying on top of you with his arms wrapping your body, like he was giving you a bear hug. in that position, he could easily tickle both of your sides. making him the winner of today's tickle fight. and tickle you he did.
"t-todd- i-" you were being cut off by your own uncontrollable laughter, squirming and writhing in his embrace. "you win! you win!"
he instantly let go of you, his lips curled into a huge victorious grin as he sat there, towering over you triumphantly. his hair was all ruffled and he still looked like he just finished running a marathon. you smiled him, your entirety overflowing with happiness, and he shyly smiled back in return before cheering in a hushed manner and whisper shouting like he was an announcer on the sports channel.
"and the crowd goes wild! todd anderson takes home the trophy for today's match!"
you giggled and swiftly wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
“i will have my revenge, you!”
© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.
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I’m begging for more alphabets yours are so good!! I’m still laughing at Soap being the “I’m in my girls ear like” meme
thank you anon im glad you enjoy them :)
here’s a gaz nsfw alphabet because i love him so very much and he is incredibly underrated (implied f reader)
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
gives amazing aftercare, doesn’t hesitate to start cleaning you up, then he’ll jump right back in with you to cuddle
on the quieter side. not in a bad way, he still enjoys pillow talk but would prefer to listen to you ramble and occasionally add or react. likes holding you against his chest and absentmindedly tracing over your skin, placing kisses on your head or shoulder once in a while
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
pretty indifferent about himself, does like his chest and shoulders cause buff💪💪 military, also likes his back for the gains and goes crazy for love scratches down his biceps and back
on you? your eyes. classic and cheesy but he loves them and staring into them. LOVES when you two can have silent conversations and he can tell what you’re thinking just from the expression in your eyes
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
i imagine he eats a pretty balanced diet and he’s generally a healthy guy, so it tastes fine. cums a normal amount, too.
he is not tryna have kids right now so he always pulls out before he cums and he looovessss seeing it all over you, almost better than he likes cumming inside you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
likes watching/hearing you get aggressive and tell people off it gets him going. this isn’t that dirty but he would be embarrassed if you found out. one time while decently drunk you yelled at a girl that wouldn’t stop hitting on him and he was smiling the rest of the night. also likes when you’re protective of him. again he’s a bit embarrassed about it
since neither of these are dirty you get 2 secrets to make up for it lolol
he has a bunch of pictures of you that you don’t know about. like, a TON. candids and stuff that you would hate but he thinks you look nice in. also some dirty ones like he took while you were passed out after sex, not necessarily sexual but intimate in a way that you would murder him if he ever showed someone.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
he’s not inexperienced, but he’s not really fucking a lot per se, like he’s not a big fan of one night stands so majority of his experience is with old partners.
he knows what he’s doing though. it takes a bit for him to learn exactly how you like it but after a few times he knows exactly how to make you melt
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
he likes any position where you’re in his lap, loves the intimacy and it kinda makes him feel stronger/bigger in a way lol
he also likes experimenting with positions though which sometimes ends up with both of you crumpled and laughing because you lost balance or his leg gave out or smth
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
he can be a tad silly as a treat…. similarly to how he likes to tease he also likes banter and is not opposed to a bit of joking around during the moment
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
his hairs curly so it doesn’t exactly get very long, but he keeps it trimmed close anyway. he is very clean and neat i will die on this hill
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
he can be super cheesy when he wants to be, but with the kind of confidence that he can somehow pull it off like he’s corny but lovable. and likes to spoil you so sometimes he really pulls out all the stops to give you a romantic surprise
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
another thing he’s a bit embarrassed about but he does it quite frequently when you guys are separated.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
light bondage!!! like handcuffs drive him crazy he loves to see you squirm and reach to touch him but be physically held back. blindfolds too
temperature play is another good one, goes insane when ice is used on either of you.
food play too, he accidentally pavlov’d himself tho and now cannot eat whipped cream without getting hard
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
all the classic places ofc your bed is the most common, he likes the shower too but i think the couch is his ultimate fav
cause he likes to experiment with different positions the couch allows for a bit more weird leeway going on, like the handles and stuff
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
like i said before it totally gets him going to see you yell at someone for some reason. loves a scrappy girl LMAO i’m projecting
would separate you if you ever actually got in a fight to prevent you from being hurt but there would def be a moment where he’s conflicted
also kinda weird but your scent. smth sciencey abt pheromones probably…. he goes crazy when he can smell traces of you on his sheets or on a shirt and loves to smell your hair as he’s falling asleep
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
anal stuff kinda freaks him out wouldn’t want you to touch his ass 💀💀💀 if you’re really insistent maybe for your birthday or smth but not ideal for him
something he absolutely would never do would be any like dark hard kinks, the idea of cnc or abuse or humiliation makes him go soft
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
so weak to blowjobs. loves giving, too, ofc but you can get him to do pretty much anything if you give him head. he doesn’t wanna like guilt you into giving it, it’s much sexier to him when it’s your idea
ok back to giving he loves it fs! sex is 50/50 to him and he loves pleasing
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
not that he goes slow, but tends to be on the softer side. v much prefers sensual sex, and hates feeling rushed
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
they have their time and place, but generally, he doesn’t prefer them. usually thinks it’s not worth the mess and clean up. does like the idea of picking up where you left off later, and you having to sit through the rest of work with ruined underwear.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
the idea makes him a bit nervous which makes him excited. probably wouldn’t initiate risky public stuff but also wouldn’t say no
with kinks, he’s pretty open, mostly just to make you happy. not unwilling to sub but prefers control. again he’ll try some stuff but isn’t really into heavy dom/dub dynamics or bdsm
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
quite a few depending on the night, but he does need a little break inbetween rounds he’s not superhuman lol. but usually y’all go 2-3 rounds if you don’t have some kinda time crunch
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
i feel like he would enjoy using them on his partner, he’d looove to see the effect they have on you, especially a vibrator. is a bit shy about them being used on himself. not that he’d never let you use them on him, just maybe not all the time. like if he was in a particularly submissive mood he’d be game. uses them on you more often, see also in combination w blindfolding
also kinda related i feel like when he was a teenager his friends got him a fleshlight as a joke and he was too embarrassed to ever use it so he just kept it hidden in his sock drawer or something, and one time his mom found it and yelled at him. he was mortified and his friends never stopped making fun of him for it
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
he can be a SMUG mf, likes to tease n make fun of you. it’s all light hearted, of course, but sometimes he’s so mean!!! totally unfair
he’s a good sport when you tease him, though. doesn’t let it bother him so much cause he knows he’ll make you pay for it, later
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
a little quieter but not silent, wouldn’t outright moan but he does grunt and whimper, voice getting shakier when he gets closer to cumming. lots of heavy, desperate breathing too, right in your ear. likes being quieter so he can hear the noises YOU make it drives him crazy
likes dirty talking a lot, too. like i said before, he can be a mean smug mf sometimes, which deffff transfers into his dirty talk. he lives for when you get so cockdrunk you can’t even respond to his questions as he teases you
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
he has the HOTTEST VOICE EVER OMG IDK something about his accent and tone just DOES it for me fuck. anyway he’d be happy to indulge whatever voice kink you may have i need to hear him whimper bro
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
on the larger side, like 6.5 fully hard, and very very pretty. probably cut?
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
it’s pretty average for a young in shape high-testosterone guy. he won’t be like begging you 24/7 but like 90% of the time he’s ready whenever you are. gets intensely horny when drunk or high tho LOL so that’s when he’ll be more forward
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
would be fine not going to sleep, like he could get up and be functional, but he really does like holding you after and slowly drifting off. might take a little bit but he’s so comfortable he wouldn’t trade it for anything
#gaz is literally the most normal dude that i like/post abt#oh my god i need him so bad you guys#also sorry i disappeared for a while anyway i’m writing again!!#kyle gaz garrick#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#!my stuff#!headcanons#!not sfw#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#also his name is kyle LMFAOOOO#implied female reader#wrote some of this while high srry#if it makes no sense
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Thoughts On SaiTeru & Why It Makes Sense To Me
Honestly speaking, I wasn’t too big on this ship but over the time, it has definitely grown a lot on me and I’d actually like if they took that route. Mainly because Saiki ending up with someone other than Kokomi wouldn’t make sense, after all the progression they went through, ending up with each other is natural. Besides, whatever Kokomi wills eventually happens so if I had to guess I’d go with the prior lol. That aside, imo they fit each other the best.
I haven’t done ship analysis posts before so the sequence is pretty messy but I’ll try to keep it as organised as possible so it’s easier to read. Let’s start anyways :
Starting off with the very thing that places Kokomi at the top of the food-chain : her charms. Due to Saiki’s x-ray vision, that ability is rendered completely useless against him. As a result, Saiki recognises her for her true self and knows her inside out. While he’s aware of her flaws, he also witnesses her growth as a person. She makes true friends and starts to enjoy their company and care about them. For Saiki, she stops dreaming about marrying a rich guy and rejects Saiko.
Kokomi even gives up on playing the perfect pretty girl which she has been doing for years, just for his sake.
Likewise, Saiki’s psychic powers have little to no effect on Kokomi because she’s loved by the God himself and she gets whatever she wants. Regardless of how hard Saiki tries to win against her, he always ends up losing instead, all the while her likability with him increases.
Her efforts in her role, her wits and abilities surprise him enough to make him wonder if she’s actually perfect. He even goes as far as to say that they’re invincible together. Saiki goes from being half-scared of her powers to fully acknowledging and admiring her by the end.
Before Kokomi, Saiki has dealt with people who had crush on him- Imu and Chiyo. He made them give up on him with ease which resulted into him believing that it’s easy to move people’s hearts. Kokomi however, breaks that misconception by moving his own and shows him that she loves him just as he is and that won’t change.
And it’s because he’s aware that her feelings are genuine, unlike the other two, he stops resisting her completely and starts avoiding possible misunderstandings. When Kokomi changes herself to suit his tastes, Saiki doesn’t actively try to make her give up on him instead tries to revert her back to her usual self. He isn’t bothered by her feelings for him anymore, rather prefers her the way she is.
There are only a few times in the show when Saiki gets nervous. Even Nendou and Kusuke who he can’t use his telepathy on, don’t have that effect on him. Yet being alone with Kokomi makes him nervous. Prior to the mixer event, Saiki has been alone with her on more than one occasion. After that day however, Saiki’s perception of Kokomi changes. He’s aware that she truely loves him and won’t give up on him no matter how indifferent he acts towards her. It’s fairly new to him, accepting the fact that someone loves him despite all the odds and she actually manages to make him happy because of it.
Just like how Kokomi gives up on the most important thing for Saiki, being perfect that is, he does the same for her. Saiki hates drawing attention to himself and he puts a lot of efforts in that. However, he gives up on that without a moment’s thought and catches Kokomi in his arms in front of the entire school and takes her to the infirmary. There couldn’t be any better way to draw attention.
My point remains the same even if I don’t include this because Kokomi’s beauty has always been irrelevant in their relationship and this is the first and only time we see Saiki being attracted to someone. Ironically, Saiki reacts to seeing Kokomi just as any other guy would and he’s too transparent about it. Not to Kokomi but to the readers.
From time to time, Kokomi’s likability with Saiki increases to such point where he subconsciously sees her differently than others. I’m sure there are people who would disagree because Saiki makes exceptions for all his friends and Kokomi shouldn’t be different. There are multiple counter to that arguement.
One of the two is when Saiki turns invisible and shares a drink with Kokomi. Honestly, whatever happened in that chapter doesn’t make sense in the least.
Saiki has gone out of his way to get Kokomi’s valentines chocolates. I can say that’s because he loves sweets. He buys her a birthday gift : the cat mug, I can reason that he even got Chiyo a soft toy back when she was dating Takeru to make their relationship last. Several times he has gone out of his way to check up on his friends such as when Aren received a fake love letter or when Kaido and Chiyo had a misunderstanding and stayed with them the entire time to make sure everything was alright.
However, this time the only thing he has to do is avoid her and go home. Kokomi isn’t in any trouble nor does she need his help for anything. So he succeeds the moment he manages to lose her by getting up in the air. All he needs to do his teleport home.
But he doesn’t. We don’t know why.
He just turns invisible which saves him from the men searching for him, again he can teleport home or even walk home. But he just decides to sit there with her and share her drink for some reason and leaves only when she thinks of doing the same. Which is outright ridiculous because he could just leave the moment Kokomi lost him but he does the opposite and does exactly what Kokomi wanted on his own free will except, differently.
Last but not the least, the most significant moment is when Saiki hears Kokomi’s voice in the end. Having read the manga, it’s clear that Kokomi’s part is supposed to stand out from others but the added scene in the anime makes it more obvious.
I think there’s more to this moment than most talk about. Other than the fact that Saiki reacts to Kokomi’s name, what makes him smile is that even when Kokomi knows that her life is in danger, she still thinks about him. He realises that the girl he finds so troublesome truely does love him. And he knows that in the end, what she wants, will happen. Through him this time. Personally I think this scene acts as the trigger to Saiki realising that he needs his powers and he doesn’t actually hate being a psychic.
All in all, Kokomi is the only one who balances out Saiki perfectly and Saiki is the one who made her develop as a person. They’re compatible with each other and even Saiki believes that. Both have lasting impact on each other even without being able to use their respective powers which solidifies the fact that the progression is genuine. Both have polar opposite nature, Kokomi loves receiving attention while Saiki hates that. However when push comes to shove, Kokomi’s willing to sacrifice her perfect pretty girl role while Saiki’s ready to draw attention to himself despite all the efforts they both put into their respective places.
Kokomi influences Saiki’s thought process despite him being able to read her like an open book. She makes him guess his choices and decisions. She brings surprises and challenges in his life. Saiki does the same since he isn’t affected by her charms, he makes her focus on other things beside looks. And he’s literally the only one who recognises her for herself and not her beauty unlike her own brother. I could go on forever about how they complement each other but that’s for another day.
I may not be the biggest SaiTeru shipper out there but I most definitely think Saiki should either remain single or end up with Kokomi. I prefer the later.
#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki x teruhashi#teruhashi x saiki#terusai#saiteru#saiki kusuo#teruhashi kokomi
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It's my birthday, & I'm not able to celebrate this year on my actual day because of work, but curious how the boys handle reader's birthday OR, what does reader for their birthday? Like, I imagine with bkg we do something small/intimate. But him and our day? He's running himself ragged. Stray cat touya trying to be aloof but also trying so hard. Gojo knowing he can do/get literally anything (for both yalls birthdays) but that's not what he actually wants. I just want to pick your brain lol
omg !! happy happy birthday dear !!! 🥺🩷✨️🦋 how sweet that we get to celebrate it together like this !! even if you are unfortunately stuck at work 😔 i hope what you do get to do for it, eventually, is so, so wonderful !! 😌🌱🔮✨️
HOW FUN LOVE PICKING MY BRAIN LET'S SEE !!
i think — bakugou is pulling out all the stops but also trying not to seem like he is, if that makes sense ?? like in the coming days before, he's saying NOTHING about it, to the point that you're sort of wondering if he forgot 💀 you casually mention it during dinner like—
"oh, and i meant to tell you that my coworkers want to go out for my birthday this weekend, so..."
and he just kind of nods, staring at you from across the table with that look you can't read, and then he asks, "y'gonna be home on thursday though, right?"
which is the crumb of confirmation you were looking for LOL though he still doesn't say anything else about it 😒 only nods again when you tell him that you will be home 😒 and the morning of, you wake up to flowers in the kitchen 🥺 and he !! still !! doesn't say anything !! 🥺 and i feel like it's like that the whole day, him doing little, meaningful things without mentioning it 🥺 you get home and he's in nice pants and buttoning up a nice shirt 🥺 ready for you to get dressed too 🥺
and he maybe looks calm and collected and flippant but HE'S ACTUALLY BEEN STRESSED THE WHOLE WEEK COMING UP TO THIS. could not get the right flowers at two different places, almost lost the reservation to dinner because the restaurant staff are idiots, has been actually looking over what to get you as a present for EVER. STILL NOT SURE HE PICKED THE RIGHT THING 🥺 he's just really good at masking it, but he's been bending over backwards to make sure it goes as smooth as it does 🥺🥺🥺
and he finally tells you happy birthday much later that night, very quietly in your ear as you're falling asleep 😌🩷✨️ what a brat 😌
OMG TOUYA HOW FUN
another one that's trying to make it seem like he's not all that aware — and maybe he's even trying not to care, but he's thinking about you in the coming days. not constantly, but in the back of his mind, he's thinking about the weight of a single gesture, for you.
maybe it would mean too much and he doesn't wanna put that out there yet, or maybe you'll think his attempt at something is laughable, and then he'll be really pissed at himself. but he'll think about the one good birthday he can remember, with his sister and his mom and all the fun he had. the taste of it all 🥺 and — fuck it, he might as well.
maybe he buys flower from the supermarket and a bottle of champagne that was on sale, or a six pack of something, but he shows up at your place almost too late, leaning against the doorframe with a cigarette in his mouth. and he's trying to be so chill, all "hope i didn't miss the party," even though the friends you saw today have long since gone home — but his heart is beating out of his chest because he's never done this for ANYONE 🥺 whether you realize it or not, this is a big thing for him 🥺
the alcohol sucks and neither of you like it and the petals of the bouquet are already falling off by the time he works up the nerve to come see you, but you sit on the rooftop of your apartment and just, enjoy the company 🥺
at one point, he grins too sharp at you and says, "glad i got the birthday brat all to myself."
and you wag a finger at him, though you can't help but to smile because it's enough of an admission to have heat pooling in your cheeks. "just for now, kid," you tell him, sticking your tongue out when he rolls his eyes. "just for now."
and he's smiling too, despite it all. watching the flower he's twirling between his fingers because he can't look at you, not right now. not when you look at him, too.
"'s'fine," he tells you, shrugging. "i'll take whatever you're giving."
AND GOJO actually. i think he's panicking LOL AKGBDKAK
because i think he could give you anything. everything that you could want, whatever he could think to give you — but that doesn't actually help him very much in the moment LOL
he wants to do everything perfect 🥺 so he does — everything. LMAOOO you wake up literally surrounded by flowers and there's a silk robe and matching slippers and an overly sweet cup of coffee on the night stand. he bought you a puppy with a ribbon. there's a bunch of framed pictures he made for the two of you. he comes into the room and your best friend is on the phone because he face timed them so you could talk as soon as you woke up aigbruqkqkq
he's got a buffet for breakfast. he hired a chef for the day. he makes a joke about carrying you everywhere.....that you realize isn't....actually a joke and you have to fight him off LOL there are several different outfits that he knows you've been eyeing and he bought them for you to wear for the day. HE DOES EVERYTHING AND HE'S SO WORRIED IT'S NOT ENOUGH 🥺
by the end of the day, you can tell that he's like. biting his nails behind your back and he's sticking close to your side like he's going to catch you sighing, defeated about something, and when he asks,
"did you have a good birthday?"
it's so genuine, his concern, that you have to hold his face between your hands and squish his cheeks together and shake him a little bit.
"yes," you tell him, for what feels like the hundredth time, before kissing his eyelids. "i did, because i got to spend it with you."
BUT HE'S SO ???? i think he's so weird about gentle affection that he's like..........but did you really though ?? almost as if he doesn't believe it 🥺
you ask him, "do you love me?"
"...well if you have to ask, then—"
and then you have to shake him again, until he smiles. "satoru, i said, do you love me?" and he doesn't say it loudly or to the world, but he just murmurs back a quiet 'yes' that you know he means. "do you love me even though i haven't bought you a puppy or designer clothing or hired someone to make you a full course meal?"
he gets it, then, even if doesn't answer, and relaxes into you a little bit. all day long he's been wide-eyed and high energy, dragging you along from one thing to the next — but now he kind of melts, stress of the day slipping off his shoulders.
you squish his cheeks again and laugh at the face he makes, before giving him a fat kiss. "yes," you tell him again. quietly, as he had told you. "i had a great birthday."
#happy happy birthday dear !!!#i'm sorry this is so late !! i hope it is still today wherever you are in the big world !!!#this was fun !!!! in conclusion: they all panic about making sure your day is the best day ever 🥺🥺🥺#✿ willow writes#✿ ask willow#✿ thoughts: bakugou#✿ thoughts: dabi/touya#✿ thoughts: gojo
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peach oh my LAWD phanta 3 was so good 🥺. Would you consider explaining the title a little more? i read the para at the end with it and i kind of got it, but i wanted to pick your brain a little too!
(I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get around to this pls don’t hate me too much).
First, thank you!! Second, I love this question bc honestly, the Phanta brain rot is still real. More below the cut since I went off lol.
spoilers below.
Almost everything in Phantasmagoria is, well, a phantasmagoria — an exhibition of optical effects and illusions; a constantly shifting complex succession of things seen or imagined.
Nearly every part of the story — character interactions, perspectives, plot points — is distorted in some way, whether it be by Wisteria/alcohol, grief, or just individual stubbornness.
The Wisteria is probably the most obvious example, as it literally distorts Reader’s perceptions of both herself, her environment, and her interactions with others
I was particular with not describing the Reader physically (even beyond her clothing) past that initial scene in Part I when she goes to the Kizuki for the first time with Mitsuri. When she does describe herself, she speaks of herself as a “raving princess” and “effervescent” — but nothing truly descriptive.
Why does it matter? Contrast that with the comments Sanemi makes about how he “wouldn’t have known it was her” (which later we find out is literally true); he also tells her, point blank, she looks gaunt, and she has no reaction whatsoever — not even an internal reaction. That’s the wisteria distorting her self-image, until she finally looks in the mirror at the end of Part II and fully sees herself for the first time in a while — and realizes what it has done.
But the Wisteria distorts other things too, namely, the appeal of the club/rave life that Reader throws herself into. At first, she calls it a paradise — it’s her escape from both her heartache and from herself in general. The club then distorts her perception of others — namely, Sanemi, like when she describes him as “menacing” under the club lights, and yet the flashback that immediately follows is one of the saddest in the series — and it shows that Sanemi is hurting just as much as she is. But the wisteria distorts everything around her, so she’s only seeing what she wants to see. Yet, when the illusion starts to crack, what happens? She panics — she describes the Kizuki as too loud, too claustrophobic; the Wisteria quite literally leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.
The other major example of a phantasmagoria in the story is its main theme — grief. Anyone who has been up close and personal with grief can probably attest to the way it quite literally changes how you view everything — even if that means it narrows your perception (I.e. distorts it). Both Reader and Sanemi are grieving significant losses, and those losses make them blind to the other’s suffering in return. It’s not so much miscommunication as it is two kids who were forced to bear the weight of the world way too fast.
That grief then continues to distort their reality, but not in the sense that they’re misremembering events. Everything they say happened, actually happened. Y/N was abandoned by Kyojuro and Sanemi; but she distanced herself from them first, and she also abandoned Sanemi when he needed her. Neither of the boys were there for her while her mother was sick and when she died; but they didn’t know until it was too late. Sanemi did return her feelings 100% at the train station; but he was so overwhelmed and reeling from Genya’s death that he reacted poorly. Sanemi did see Y/N that day at the crosswalk; he just didn’t recognize her. Y/N was isolated after her mother died, but Sanemi was desperately trying to find her the whole time.
Thus, everything happened exactly the way both Y/N and Sanemi said it did, but their grief prohibited them from stepping back and seeing the broader picture — so their interpretation, though objectively true, is still distorted. This translates into other things as well, such as Y/N constantly misinterpreting Sanemi’s motives and efforts to make things right between them, because otherwise, it wouldn’t square with the understanding she has of what happened and why. She thinks he’s using her for convenience; he’s actually letting her use him in any way she wants just so he can have a chance to take care of her. She accuses him of being possessive because he feels entitled to her affection, but he actually loves her (deeply), and is terrified of losing her, because she is quite literally wasting away in front of him. She says he doesn’t care about her, yet she won’t let him. He tries to talk to her about everything right after they start hooking up, yet she refuses to engage. She runs away. She’s cold, and she shuts him down harshly even when he tries to offer her bare minimum affection and care (this also is supposed to contrast with what we know as the Reader, which is that she is still very much in love with him). We also find out that Sanemi spent every other weekend taking flowers to her mother’s grave — again, shattering that illusion she’s created in her mind that he doesn’t care about her.
It’s not until they finally hash everything out in the kitchen at Tengen’s that both realize they’ve been focusing on one narrow part of a much larger picture, and that they’ve both let their grief blind themselves to one another. When Y/N finally steps back and looks at the whole instead of the part, the illusion shatters. Love is the final phantasmagoria. Y/N realizes that she’s mistakenly believed she was running away from love (and thus, Sanemi) only to realize that not only has she been running in circles, but Sanemi has been running opposite of her the whole time. They’re two sides of the same coin; they were bound to crash into one another at some point.
This is just like, a bird’s eye overview of the mind map that I drew out in my journal for Phanta, and I’m sure I’m leaving something out. If y’all have any thoughts, I’m always happy to hear them (seriously).
Thank you for the ask, and I apologize that I went off the deep end lmao.
#🍑 rambles#phantasmagoria#sanemi shinazugawa#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kny#kny x reader#kny fanfic#kny sanemi#sanemi x reader
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It's like hxh characters finding out that's hxh Isa series or movie in the real world, a different world. Which means they have actors. So they're reacting to their actors interview lol
I couldn’t find a way to work in a (y/n) character since a reader insert would depend a lot on the reader’s feelings for something like this. This isn’t a story, after all, I don’t feel right dictating how someone would react to the discovery of being a show character, y’know? So, I left a slot open for reader interpretation! An interactive post, lol.
Otherwise, I just kinda went ham with your general set up. It was kinda hard for me to think if I stuck so close to your exact premise. Hope ya don’t mind!
@coolminahi
In general
In general, the revelation of the show being...a show, would throw the entire cast for a loop. I’ll mention some highlights, but as a whole, the revelation would be something along the lines of existential fear, confusion, and maybe some amazement.
Hisoka
Hisoka is about the only one I can think of who doesn’t have a group, and Kite is just a random character I like, lol. So, they get their own bits. Plus, their fairly simple. Hisoka’s biggest throw off is his actor not having pink hair slicked back like his. The fact their personalities don’t match or his actor doesn’t condone his taste for powerful fighters of any age doesn’t bug him. He can understand that he’s not for everyone.
The phantom troupe
Chrollo has experienced so many powers, and read so many books that he wouldn’t exactly care for the fact his reality is false. Though, he would be offended if his actor is anything but intellegent and appreciative of his reading and grace. Uvogin, though, would have his mind utterly blown. If his physique isn’t realistic to his actor, he’s crushed, and if it is, he would wonder if his actor is a good fighter. If so...could they spar? Feitan meanwhile would lowkey hate his actor if he denounced his torturous tastes. “How can he talk about me like that?! He’s no better than me!” that type of logic. In all, though, the spiders would mostly be confused on how this works. How can Macha or Phinks’ actors be such sweeties? How are they seperate from the characters? How are they different from the actors?
The zoldycks
Where the spiders may ponder the existential angle, the Zoldycks are more worried about the opinions of their actors, and the accuracy of their portrayal. Kikyo would have a fit over the smallest shift in what she believes she’d do, or any harsh comment levelled at her or her babies in interviews, Milluki would complain that his actor isn’t thinner, insulting the man viciously while also picking apart the effects of the show. Alluka would simply find it fun to have an actor, and be called adorable in interviews, while Killua would be annoyed and confused if his actor wasn’t his age. “why the hell is my actor 18?? I’m only 12, how can they opt for hours of make up to de-age him, when they can just hire a twelve year old??”
Illumi would not like the fact their reality is a show. He instantly dislikes his actor, he dislikes how easy going he might be, or him laughing off marriage proposals. He doesn’t like to think about interviews and how this affects him, mostly because of his actor and how different they are. “He’s so emotional and takes nothing serious. I hate how weak he is.” Every one but Killua would probably also be offended at them not bothering to try and match their strength either.
Silva and Zeno would be the only two really pondering what this means for their world. When the story ends, do they cease to exist? If the show is cancelled, what happens then? Those types of questions. Though, Zeno does at least appreciate the work that goes into aging his actor.
The main cast
Gon would be ecstatic to see they’re a show. He’d think it was so cool, and he’d hope all of his friends got good screen time, and were loved by the fans. He would think of the implications, but he’d try not to fret over them. Kurapika, meanwhile, would feel highkey cheated by god. “My family was wiped out...for a mere plot?!” While Leorio wouldn’t know how to feel. His actor seems cool, he seems fun in all of his interviews, but...does this mean he’s not real? Complicated emotions there.
[reader insert]
Readers choice, lol. Feel free to repost or comment how you’d react to this news if you want!
#ask#hxh#hunter x hunter#actor au#kinda#headcanons#kept it light and simple here#tried to include as many as I could remember#The Zoldycks#The Phantom troupe#Hisoka Morrow#reader insert included
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ᴇʟʟɪᴇꜰᴇᴠᴇʀ
Hi sillys! This is just an introduction to my page, and a kickstart into posting! Im a fic writer from Ao3, and im moving to tumblr in hopes that itll make it easier for me to keep up with writing!
(introduction below cut!)
ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ
My name is Eve, (Im 5'7 if you need a mental image) i'm a pansexual poc writer and im 19 as of july 💙
im a pretty open and reasonable person for the most part, and im not really picky about writing requests so feel free to send as many as youd like! im looking forward to interacting with anyone whos interested in my page 😊
with all the boring stuff about me aside, let's talk about what im planning on writing! (if you have any more personal questions about me, dont be afraid to ask them! ill answer to the best of my abilities.)
The Last Of Us
i am a huge tlou fan so i will for sure be writing about it!
Ellie Williams
I LOVE ellie williams so much omggnfjhfhx. ill be writing dealer!ellie, loser!ellie, college!ellie, modern!ellie, and ANYTHING you guys request me to write for ellie! she is my heart and soul and i absolutely love her!
Abby Anderson
abby is so yummy 🤤 ill be writing fics for her too! im not too educated on the different abby aus to write for but i am totally looking forward to writing your guy's suggestions! (and ellabs 😊💙💙)
Dina
I LOVE HER so much shes the best. shes 100% gonna make an appearance on my page!
The Walking Dead
Maggie Rhee
Maggie is simply too fine not to write for bro. i love her so much.
Rick Grimes
i can agree he is attractive and if im in a silly mood or get a request for him then ill write some...silly stuff
Daryl Dixon
same thing for rick goes for him too!
Also any other twd characters i decide to write for or get requests for!
Sally Face
i absolutely love sally face.
there's really not much to say revolving this fandom but i love sally and larry so much!
Criminal Minds
im a huge crime show lover lol
Spencer Reid
hes so hot i literally dont understand how he can be so fine. i have a lot of ideas for fics about him and i never see anything like the ideas i have so im hoping itll be good to publish those ideas?
im open to writing for other criminal minds characters too but no one gets me all giddy like spencer does 💙
Shameless
im honestly really only interested in writing for fiona x fem reader cuz i never see it, but if you guys have any other ideas for stuff i could write for shameless just lmk! 💙
Jennifer's Body
i LOVE this movie so much, i cant wait to write for jennifer and needy and make my gay heart unbreak for them. but also i was thinking, hear me out. what if i wrote an ellie williams fic but like... jennifers body au? like jennifer and needy but instead, ellie and fem reader? just a thought idk! should i?
THAT'S ABOUT IT! or at least all i can think of as of right now!
Things I will write!
Reader loving rock music and nu metal bands!
Reader playing instruments and being super cool
Reader of any gender!
I'll leave room for imagination but ill also put some ideas of reader's outfits for those who want a mental image
Reader having good music taste and a good sense of style
pet names
bold, aggressive, and dickhead reader
pretty much anything in between
Things I will NOT write!
age play, baby talk, uncomfortably cliche submissive reader
i wont romanticize domestic violence or make light of abusive relationship dynamics 👍
emotional whiplash, i want the scenes i write to blend smoothly
piss kinks and foot stuff (and any other really strange stuff)
smut where the characters are minors
let me know if you guys have any questions or anything at all! i hope to be uploading my first fic soon, which should i do first?
#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#abby anderson#abby anderson smut#ellie williams x reader#abby anderson x reader#the walking dead#maggie rhee#rick grimes#daryl dixon#dina tlou#spencer reid smut#criminal minds#shameless#sally face#sal fisher#larry johnson#ao3 writer#jennifers body#silly#so silly#ellie williams fic#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie x dina#hi guys this is my first post please love me#too much?
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Hi! Congratulation for the 200 followers! I've seen you've got a lot of asks for this event, and that shows that so many people love your writings!
Mind if I join the celebration? May I request 💭 ❗️👐 💍⏳ for my favourite himbo JoBros Okuyasu and Polnareff (yes I consider Pol as a JoBro) with f!reader?
Again, congrats to the 200!
Thank you thank you!! 😭💞 and I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting for so long, school's been really rough lately and finding time to write hasn't been easy.
Also Pol is not a Jobro, he's the whole ass protagonist of part 3 😤💕
Hope you enjoy :)♡
💭 How do they imagine their future with their S/O to be like?
Okuyasu just...Wants a simple future for the two of you. This boy doesn't ask for much and doesn't like to carefully plan his life, he prefers to go with the flow and just see how things evolve over time. You can figure the details along the way, it doesn't really matter to him as long as you're by his side.
He'd really love to form a family with you though, to be the good father he never really had. I feel like he gets along with children very well, and he will treat both you and them like you're his most trusted treasure during your entire marriage.
Also, kind of random, but I think that Oku would want to become a chef after high school and probably open his own restaurant. Because of this, he's always fantasizing about you coming to visit him after work some day, as he prepares for you the best meal you'll ever have.
~~~~~
Polnareff's future is...Way too idealistic lol-
What can I say? This man is an hopeless romantic, he seems like the type to believe in fairy tales about love. He wants the two of you to have a perfect life, where nothing ever goes wrong and you're always happy and together.
To be fair though, he will work the hardest he can, so that so you'll be able to have the closest thing possible to what he had originally in mind. Pol Pol is very devoted to you and your relationship, he'd be perfectly happy even if he was the only one to work and you preferred to become a housewife.
However, this man has sworn to himself one thing: he will always support and help you through any decision you may take in life. No matter what, he'll be right by your side to make the journey easy for you, don't ever doubt his commitment to you.
❗️How would they surprise their S/O?
I feel like there would be two occasions in which Oku would most likely try to surprise you.
A- either school has just finished and he's thought of something cool to do that you would have never come up with. Or...
B- there was no reason at all for this, he just felt like it one day and now you're going to join him. No, it is not negotiable.
If he wanted to go with something safe, he'd probably just get you a game or a book he knew you would have liked, so that you could play together. He knows your tastes very well.
Alternatively, he'd buy tickets for the first train he could find and take you sightseeing for an entire day to a city you had never been to before. And before you ask, yes, he's just as clueless as you about the place you are in. Good luck.
~~~~~~~
First of all, Polnareff loves surprisingly you so much. He loves your excited look whenever he does something you didn't expect, and he doesn't want your relationship to become too...Static, or ad he calls it, "boring".
I think Pol Pol would most definitely try to surprise you through either acts of service or gift giving...Or maybe even both, he'll go no any extend to impress you, honestly. He thinks it's a nice way to always remind you that he truly cares about you and that he'd never give your love for granted.
Immagine this: you've just come back home from a long day at school/work, only to find out that your house has been perfectly tidied, there's a bouquet of flowers waiting for you together with a nice home-made meal. Can you guess who is behind this?
👐 what sort of things would they like to match with their S/O?
Okuyasu would like to match so many things with you, he's just so proud to have you as his girlfriend and he wants to show it off as much as he can.
You have so many options to choose from, honestly. You could match plushies, and be assured that this boy would hug his one any time you're not near him, pretending that's actually you. Same Okuyasu, sane.
OR, you could match something related to your outfit! Maybe you could wear his iconic dollar pin and he'd add something to his look that reminds him of you :)
Also you two would definitely have those "If lost, return to Y/N" / "I'm Y/N" shirts.
~~~~~~~
Polnareff would definitely be the one to ask you to match things with him. It's something he's always wanted to do as soon as he got a partner, it makes him feel like you're more of a power couple and he thinks it's just a sweet gesture in general. Moreover, he wants you two to stand out, he just loves to show off.
I think he'd basically beg you to match his heart shaped earrings with him. He'd give you one half and would refuse to take his off, no matter the time. Even during stands battle, he uses it as a reminder on who he's fighting for.
He'd be so happy if you always wore it like him, but he won't pressure you into doing so, he wants it to be a spontaneous gesture for you as well :)
💍How would they propose to their S/O?
It's funny that you asked this question, because Okuyasu has no clue either lol-
Whenever the word "wedding" comes up, the only thing he's able to think of is how beautiful you'd be in a bride dress, how he can already feel his eyes filling with tears as soon as he sees you walking down the isles, and how he'd vow to live you for the rest of your life.
...In his head. It's too bad that he's going to need a small reminder that, if he wants this to happen, he'll actually have to propose to you. That is when he actually begins to go into a spiral and realizes how scared he is to actually take this step. What if it's too soon? What if you you don't accept? What if he makes a fool out of himself and trips while trying to get on his knee?
With some advice from his buddies, however, he'll muster up the courage to take this step. I believe he'd propose to you, unlike how it's usually done, in the afternoon or maybe even in the morning, on top of one of the beautiful hills of Morioh, surrounded by a stunning view of the entire city.
"Y/N...Maybe I'm rushing in doing this, m-maybe I'm doing something wrong a-and I haven't even realized it, but...This has always been my fear ever since we...Got together, b-but you never made me feel like I messed up! Sweetie, when I'm you, I feel like...I actually matter, l-like I'm more than just a dumbass, and...You don't know how happy this makes me, how happy YOU make me. I...I really love you, Y/N, and uhm, i-if you take this, I'll keep on loving you forever and ever! So, will you...Will you marry me?"
~~~~~~
To be honest, the Crusaders probably had to stop him from proposing to you way too soon at least, like, three times or so. He just thinks with his heart rather than his brain, and sees marriage as the ultimate way to make your relationship as authentic as possible.
When the time actually comes around to ask you the infamous question, this man just cannot wait. He's spent enough time dreaming about it to know how to put his plan into action, and he has no hesitation whatsoever. He knows what he wants, and that is you and you only, no time to worry or rethink.
He'd propose to you in one of those immense gardens of flowers in his hometown, he wants everything to be as romantic as possible and to leave you absolutely baffled.
"Ah, mon amour...I don't think you understand how long I've been yearning for this moment. We were destined to meet, tu comprends ce que je veux dire, n'est pas? Of course you do, chéri, you're the most brilliant person I've ever met, after all. And you're so much more than just that, you are...My true love, my other half, what makes me complete. We were always meant to be, and the ring I'm holding if the proof of it. Will you give me the honor of marrying you?"
⏳How long would it take for them to fall for their S/O?
Okuyasu probably already had a small crush on you even before he actually met you, if he somehow saw you walking down the school halls sometimes. He's quick to fall for someone and always thought you were pretty, so you had already won him over before even knowing it lol.
When you do actually begin to talk, this boy will only get more and more convinced that he's in love with you. Everything you do or say just pushes him to think that you're the one, especially if you show him kindness.
He may try to push his crush on you aside a little, since he thinks you'd never reciprocate his love, but he's the kind of person that just can't keep his emotions at bay, and his feelings for you will come out soon enough, before you even know it.
~~~~~~
Alright, let's he real here: Polnareff wanted to marry you since literally the first moment you two ever met. Yes, he does have the habit of falling in love way too quickly, but he was right at least this time. He just knows you two are a match made in Heaven and sees no point in "taking it slow".
Depending on how quick YOU are to fall in love, you might as well get together with him a week after you two met, to be honest. But, of course, he's not dumb entirely and can take a hint, so if he notices you just see him as a friend for the time being, he'll respect.
100% won't stop bragging about how he knew from the beginning that you would have become a couple, as soon as you actually do. He doesn't care if you think he's extra or way too dreamy, when he says this, he means it.
#jojo#jojo's bizarre adventure#jjba x you#jjba x y/n#jjba x reader#jojo's bizarre adventure x reader#polnareff stardust crusaders#stardust crusaders x reader#jjba polnareff#polnareff x reader#jojo polnareff#jean pierre polnareff x reader#jean pierre polnareff#jean polnareff#sdc x reader#jjba stardust crusaders#diamond is unbreakable x reader#diamond is unbreakable#diu x reader#jjba diu#okuyasu nijimura#okuyasu x reader#nijimura okuyasu#jjba okuyasu#jojo okuyasu
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Teasing Eventually Pays Off
Request?: YES
Request: Hi! Do you do smut with a sub reader? Because if so I’d like to request a Josh Hutcherson x reader smut where Josh and reader are at a movie premiere and every little thing the reader does and the way he looks in his suit turns Josh on so the second they get home Josh goes crazy.
Genre: fluff(kinda) to smut
A/N: basically my first time writing a sub reader. If it's not more in the sub side please let me know what I can do to make it seem more “subby”? LOL. And i’ve only read smut and haven’t really written it so pardon me if its not good pr to your liking in slowly trying to improve!
Smaller details!: s/c (suit color) h/c (hair color) e/c (eye color)
3rd Person
You and Josh were going to one of his movie premieres! You obviously knew you needed to show up and show out. So you got dressed in a s/c suit that fit your body perfectly (especially your ass which made you even happier). When Josh finally saw you come out of the changing room he was beyond stunned, somehow even more stunned when he saw your perfectly fit ass.
-time skip to on the way to the premiere-
You and Josh were in the limousine on the way to the venue. During this time you were plotting on how you could tease the ever living shit out of Josh during the entire movie, giving him no mercy (until you were asking for his~).
-time skip to the movie-
“Josh~ baby~.” You flutter your eyes toward him. “What is-…oh no…”. He exhales already knowing what is going to go down the entire movie. “Oh! I think I forgot to buy popcorn~. Let me grab my wallet~.” You get up and bend over, making sure to really extenuate your rounded ass and point it towards him. “Oh sorry babe do you not like my ass in the suit…? I wore it just for you~.” You pout. “I- no- I- i love your ass it's just-.” He stops realizing that he somewhat quietly shouted. “Look what you made me do!” He angrily whispered. “Sorry baby I just wanted to look the best for you and I know you love my ass so I just wanted to combine the best of both worlds~”. you express. “I’ll go get that popcorn now…”. You sadly walk away.
-time skip to when you got the popcorn-
“Here you go daddy~”. You whisper in his ear. “J-…just you wait until we get home because you're going to regret doing this you slut.” He whispers back into your ear, knowing that you are getting what you wanted all along.
-time skip to getting home-
As you get through the door of your house, Josh immediately starts aggressively but passionately kissing you and basically rips off your suit. “Mhpf- fuck~ th-the taste of your lips are so good~”. You moan into his mouth. “F-fuck i just wanna destroy you until the only thing you can think of is me and my cock~” He whispers into your ear. His words and deep voice make your knees and everything else jelly. “P-please daddy f-fuck me…” you whisper but not loud enough for him to hear what you said. “Hm? What was that slut? Did you say something? I can't hear you.” He degrades, “PLEASE FUCK ME.”
You shout at him desperately. “Ok then.” He throws you onto the large bed you two share. “Safe word?”. He asks. “Um…hutch.”. You respond. “Ok now condom or no condom?” He asks another question. “No condom~ I want your seed in me so badly~.” You moan out. “Oh yeah you want me that badly? You want to feel my cock deep in your slutty hole? The slutty hole that's just for me? Right? You're my cockwarming whore right?” He degrades you, grabbing your chin to make you look in his eyes. “Y-YES~. I WANT TO FEEL ALL OF YOU SO DEEP IN ME~. PLEASE REARRANGE MY ORGANS~. PLEASE DADDY MAKE ME YOURS~.” You beg and shout. “Anything for you my pretty cock slut~”. And you two fuck all night long~.
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