#I need to be able to keep up with dates and stuff

[thelawfulchaotic]

What is very funny about being a specialist in juvenile law is that I never... actually liked children?

(Ok there is some possibility I am fooling myself about this, given that there has never been a single child client I got to know that I didn't love and root for and 100% support, but.)

I'm not a "kid person." I don't have the gift of running around and imagining with them. I babysat much less than equivalent older-millennial girls.

I just got into court, and I --

Okay, let me back up and talk about my first public defender's office. It was a rural office that covered several geographical jurisdictions, including multiple cities and counties, five total. Each of these had three courts that regularly needed to be covered: a juvenile/domestic court, a general court, and a slightly higher and fancier level of court. They all operated to varied schedules (general court A was on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but general court B was on Wednesdays and Fridays; juvenile court A was on Wednesdays and Fridays but juvenile court B was on Mondays and Wednesdays).

So, fifteen total "courts," and there were... hmm. 8-10 attorneys. And a boss who wanted us to be able to substitute for each other, and thus rotated us through the courts every month. On week 1, I might be doing general court A on Tuesday and general court B on Friday. On week 2, I might be doing general court A on Thursday and juvenile/domestic court A on Wednesday. I might have one day a month where I do general court C.

So on.

The court schedules cases not according to our schedules, but according to police officers. Do you see the problem yet?

Public defenders were fungible. For those who don't know that very academic-specific word, it means that we were exchangeable units. One case could go through four different attorney's hands because it would get continued, show up on someone else's date, get continued again, show up on someone else's date, and so on. Juvenile cases were particularly bad about this because they tended to linger in court for a long time, while the court monitored the juvenile's progress.

Here's another fun problem: the department in charge of things like child protection, custody, etc., would only come to court on Tuesdays. We did not have a spare attorney to cover an extra day on Tuesdays in which criminal cases would happen with children who happened to also have custody issues or a foster care prevention plan in place. They would put the criminal case on the next day, Wednesday. Effectively, this meant that we were not present for the decisions about where our clients went and what programs they would have to do.

So I'm dropped into this, a baby attorney, having watched a DVD about How To Juvenile Law. I feel my training is wildly inadequate, and I'm doing reviews on cases that have never had the same attorney twice. Zero trust between me and the kids, and why would there be?

I complained loudly until my boss gave in and ordered me the several-hundred-dollar Juvenile Practice In This State book, and then I read it cover to cover. I learned a bunch of really interesting things! Like all the stuff we'd been doing wrong!

My boss was shocked. "You actually read that?"

"What did you THINK I was gonna do?"

"Well, you're the juvenile expert now, I guess."

oh shit, I thought. oops. fuck.

But I leaned in, and not in the ambition way. I proposed a way to rearrange my schedule so that I would always be free on Tuesdays for DSS cases. Instantaneously, there was a change in the environment of the court -- before, it was the guardians ad litem, juvenile probation, and the attorney for DSS deciding what to do with kids. Now I was there. Making suggestions. And arguments.

We changed how we did the schedule, and how we put individual cases on that schedule. Keeping them on our days became a priority.

I instituted a weekly detention center visit, for myself. (I made it about half the time.)

I went to trainings. This area of law is wildly unpopular among a lot of public defenders, because it's complicated and sad and you don't get to do jury trials about it. Every new thing I learned just pissed me off. It wasn't that I liked kids. It was that kids deserved better. So I got to take over pretty much everything with regards to juvenile law in the office.

But like, I stumbled on this, I didn't know shit. I didn't have a passion for protecting children. It's just that every bit of law I learned made me go, "What? REALLY? Fuck off!"

[junebuggiezz]

Haii !!! I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a Jax x gn!reader ?? Where the reader has the traits of a red panda / is like a red panda hybrid and is on the more calmer and chill side personality wise !! Thank you !! ^^

𖦹—Ofc! Jax is one of my favs, personality and simp wise, I swear I wanna analyze his character so badly but I know there's more future info needed.

Jax/Red Panda!Reader hcs

Gender neutral || Established relationship || Ep.5 spoilers if you squint

✦ Assuming you’re more on the chill side than Zooble, it’s odd yet calming. It freaks him out that you’re just able to be calm in a situation like this, stuck inside this digital world and hoping that the next person doesn’t flip their lid. He sometimes fears (in secret) that your personality is just another front to keep you from abstracting.

✦ Over time Jax grew to like it; he’s still cautious, but it’s better than dealing with the others and gets to kick his feet up while the two of you talk.

✦ A lot of Jax’s nicknames are based on physical traits so that sums up what he calls you in the beginning, only after you started dating did they become “nicer sounding”. Sure his tone sounds insulting, but you know that it’s his form of endearment to you personally.

“Red”, “Ring-tail”, “Raccoon”, “Waddles”

(Based on the fact red panda’s hind legs are longer than their front.)

✦ Being a red panda comes with its perks; any adventures involving ice and snow may as well be a joke, considering the fact your fur is thick enough to prevent it. In general, you're a free blanket to this rabbit when needed, even outside of any adventures. “Hey [Name]! Jax needs his fancy coat, chop chop!”

✦ You’re an early bird and usually wake up long before anyone else. You either do your own thing before anyone wakes up or you go into Jax’s room. Unlike you, he wants his sleep, so he’ll let you in and go back to bed. “Just… I don’t know, lay next to me? No—Not on the edge of the bed, doofus—C’mere.”

✦ There were times in the beginning where you've been territorial over certain things. It took some time for you to get comfortable and stop panicking, allowing the others to come to your room and hangout. You got too comfortable and soon you knew when your things would go missing and who did it. (Yes he still does it. Yes he sometimes uses it as an excuse for you to visit.)

✦ You’re an excellent climber. Anything that’s been tossed up too high or needs to be placed to hide from someone? You can get to it in a few seconds tops. Jax sometimes takes advantage of this by taking stuff from the others and having you hide it. Pranks aren't usually your thing, it’s only something you participate in just to keep Jax happy for a moment. Once he’s satisfied and walks off, you’re the one who returns the item without issue.

You look over the edge to see Gangle with her body hunched over. Grabbing her notebook with your mouth, you then angle yourself before jumping on the colored blocks and landing near her.

You take the notebook out your mouth, placing it in your hand and pushing it in her direction. “Here you go, Gangle.”

A quiet sniffle sounds out as she looks up and takes the notebook back. The single teardrop disappears and she gives you a small smile. “Thanks, [Name].”

✦ Your claws are thankfully retractable. You’ve never used them to threaten the others in the circus and only used them to cut things open or as a defense tactic during adventures. Jax likes grabbing onto your paws and showing NPCs as a way to scare them, even if they aren’t threatening you.

Jax grabs your wrist and pushes his thumbs into your palm. Your claws pop out, the sun giving them a threatening shimmer.

“You see that?” Jax cackles. “Keep it up! And we’ll see what happens!”

The NPC shrinks and runs off in fear while you lightly tug your arm back and retract your claws. “I really doubt they were trying to harm us, Jax.”

He shrugs and places his hands behind his head. “Either way, no more problems.”

✦ Just because you’re his partner doesn’t mean you aren’t getting pranked. Sure, he could give you special treatment and do something or nothing at all, but where’s the fun in that? Considering how laidback you are he knows that you won't say/do much that he’ll get scolded. You’ve had to have moments where you’ve put your foot down and put on a stern persona when you weren’t in the mood to deal with it, only then does he tone it down.

✦ He slightly shuts down at that because you’re the only one that doesn’t really get mad at him. He’ll kinda be dry but still want to be close to you. He’ll either get over it or the two of you have a *gulp* heart to heart, ew.

✦ You’re the only one (that we know of) who has the privilege of going into his room. You’re not allowed to talk about what’s inside it or anything to the others, otherwise you get the temporary boot. You’re also given the key to his room, considering the fact he already has your key and he’ll come into your room whenever like it’s own space.

✦ If there was a moment before where there was an argument or something serious does he actually knock. He looks around the hall before talking to you through the door; the guy has a reputation to uphold and he’ll be damned if anyone sees in a vulnerable state and uses it as leverage (Another fear of his).

✦ Swearing isn’t your forte, so anyone who somehow made you curse is getting less, if any, respect from Jax. Your anger is something that can simmer and die, but someone purposefully pushing your buttons or bringing up sensitive topics into it gets under your skin badly.

✦ Arguments: They’re 99.8% playful and .2% not. For however long the two of you have been in this digital world, someone like Ragatha is most likely to know more info about the arguments you two had. Kinger as well, but he forgets them unless he’s in his pillowfort or in any dark place. He keeps it to himself, but will give you soft spoken advice (If you’ve figured out how he operates in the dark.)

✦ Problems with Jax are mostly based on his emotional state—“If I am a jerk to them, then maybe they’ll get frustrated and leave me alone.”—But you’re surprisingly patient, and suddenly that pisses him off cause it’s just not working on you. When you’re finally able to get him to open up, he already feels drained and just wants to lay down once it’s all said and done.

✦ Your laidback presence gives him the ability to relax. Him knowing you’ll take the time to listen to him rather than getting mad and stomping away was another thing that made him like you. He sometimes feels as though he doesn’t deserve for you to be with him—putting up a cocky persona to piss people off, you don’t deserve that attitude to be thrown your way with that patience of yours—Yet you stay and communicate.

✦ Gangle likes to stay near you a lot. She thinks you’re easy to talk to and won’t make fun of her interests/personality. She likes showing you the drawings she’s made in her notepad (Legit the highest honor) and gives you sketches of yourself to put into your room. Yes, she makes ship art of you and Jax that she also shares with you so long as you’re comfortable with it.

✦ You and Zooble are chill but they squint at you every time Jax pops up in the conversation, whether he’s the topic or there physically, they cannot help but wonder how the hell you two are together. Maybe angels really does exists and they sent you to deal with this snarky fucker, cause they’d just go insane.

✦ Ragatha is also another person who can’t believe that you’re dating Jax. Don’t get her wrong, she is in support of it and is glad that the two of you are happy with each other, but she just wonders what kind of tolerance level you have to deal with stuff like this. You’re her secret weapon of choice sometimes and communicates with you to put the guy on a leash or at least to tone down some things he’s done.

✦ Kinger is able to stand near you, but he somehow mistakes you for a bear sometimes. If he's in his logical state then I guarantee he gives you stories and gives advice to you about making the relationship last. If you try to tell Jax that Kinger gave you advice, he laughs it off or goes quiet.

✦ Pomni is confused but hey, it’s not her business (Lie). She does get glances at your relationship and tries to ask Jax about it, but she immediately gets brushed off by him. You on the other hand are down to tell the story (but leave a few details out for personal reasons of course) and watch her reactions. Jax has grabbed you by the scruff or arm to pull you away each time and telling the jester to mind her business. Either way, you sometimes invite her into your room to chat and it actually brings a smile to her face—A sense of normalcy is in this wacky world.

✦ Just because you’re the most chill one doesn’t mean you come with your own set of problems. You tug at the digital fur on your arms, you sometimes look like you’re relaxing when you’re actually thinking if there will ever be a way to get out.

✦ You don’t really communicate that with Jax as you don’t want him to start freaking out nor do you wanna risk any sort of abstraction, so that laidback personality of yours tries to rationalize that you just need more time until the exit finally pops in. Your persona, while true, is another average defense mechanism just like the others in the digital circus. But until that day comes, you’ve got Jax and the others to get along with until then.

𖦹—I'm putting this fucker in a blender. /affectionate

[victory-cookies]

god I’m so torn. I have a few things I really buy rn but realistically I don’t think I can afford all of them. So I’m trying to weigh what I should let myself but bc I haven’t bought myself anything nice in a while

[orcelito]

i miss akechi goro so much. maybe even enough to finally finish that ladue chapter 3

[ms-demeanor]

Hey, are you a broke motherfucker trying to save money on groceries and attempting to plan for having food in the house at the end of the month? Do you have a good system for storing frozen meat? If you don't, here's how I do it:

Large Bastard called me when I was at the plasma center (we're broke motherfuckers!) to tell me that Aldi had nearly expired pork chops (use or freeze by tomorrow) for 50% off, so I told him to get 4 packs.

I keep my freezer pretty full with homemade stock, frozen meat, frozen veggies, frozen fruit, and g-free bread, so I can't just stick the big packages of pork chops directly in the freezer, and besides if I do, the pork chops will freeze to each other and then I'll have to thaw the whole mass of them if i want to cook them, which will increase thawing time.

So what I do instead is make an accordion of waxed paper and fill it with pork chops.

This ends up saving a ton of space, and means I can choose to thaw 8 pieces or 1 piece or however much I need at a time.

3 packs stored this way are smaller than 1 pack from the store.

The final accordion of meat gets wrapped in a layer of waxed paper, then put into a freezer bag with the air pressed out, and now if I don't have cash for groceries I've still got something to eat.

This is also the way that I save meat that is close to its spoilage date that I won't be able to cook before it goes bad. If you stick a family pack of chicken breasts in the freezer, you have a family pack of chicken breasts to thaw. If you put them into little waxed paper envelopes, you've got single serving packets that you can easily toss into a soup or bake from frozen.

This is ALSO pretty much the technique I use to freeze banana slices when my bananas are going brown and I'm not in the mood to bake, only I freeze them on a cutting board before breaking them off and sticking them in a bag when they're frozen.

Freeze wet stuff in individual pieces, not big chunks, so you don't have to break up big chunks to use your frozen food.

I know this probably seems pretty obvious to a lot of people, but it wasn't obvious to me until a couple years ago because nobody ever showed me how to do it and I didn't grow up in a family that cooked a lot.

[astonmartinii]

mother duck | carlos sainz social media au

pairing: carlos sainz x fem presenter!reader

carlos kissed her goodbye before she went to the rookie round table, he didn’t realise she’d come back with five ducklings of her own

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,439,045 others

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f1: head over to our youtube channel now to get to know our crop of new drivers at the rookie round table!

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user1: i have been moved

user2: more of this type of content please

user3: i think they could’ve gotten at least a couple of hours of footage here those kids love to talk

yourusername: not what i’ve been used to but a blast nonetheless!

kimiantonelli: you will be coming to all of the races, right?

kimiantonelli: right? please!

yourusername: yes, i will be there kimi don’t worry

kimiantonelli: omg yay!

user4: oh no… they’re attached…

user5: someone call carlos sainz, is he aware he’s become a father of five overnight?

carlossainz55: excuse me?

gabrielbortoleto: hi!

carlossainz55: no no no i don’t do all of this grid kid nonsense

isackhadjar: please don’t say that i have abandonment issues :(

carlossainz55: what ???

user6: bro sat back and watched charles adopt all the kids last season but now it’s his turn

user7: ollie is meant to be charles’ grid kid…

charles_leclerc: A ROBBERY?

carlossainz55: you can keep him !!!

olliebearman: you don’t want me 😢

yourusername: carlos don’t be mean to them!

carlossainz55: what the fuck is going on right now ???

user8: carlos left his gf for one 20 minute interview and now has kids ?

user9: ugh i’ve missed this chaos

jackdoohan: can we do all media with you @yourusername ?

yourusername: i don’t think so :(

jackdoohan: so not fair :(((((

jackdoohan: if we don’t have media with you can we at least come to dinner?

kimiantonelli: i’m free for dinner!

gabrielbortoleto: me too

isackhadjar: me three

olliebearman: can we get italian?

carlossainz55: nuh uh it’s date night tonight

kimiantonelli: *our date night

carlossainz55: no?

yourusername: come on carlos…

carlossainz55: fine! but just this one time

user10: it’s going to be a long season for mr sainz i fear

yourusername

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yourusername: australia that’s a wrap on qualifying - a few surprises at both ends of the grid!

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user11: i am an old man who usually hates the fluffy stuff off of track but kimi going in for a hug in the media pen was very cute

user12: i think people forget just how young he is so it’s good he feels he has other people to go to in the paddock!

user13: his poor media handler looked very confused

olliebearman: can we definitely get dinner now :( talking to you in the media pen was probably the only good thing from today

yourusername: of course ollie! i know it was a tough day but you’ll get in the swing of it with the car

carlossainz55: i thought we were going to be able to shake them for dinner :(

olliebearman: CARLOS I AM IN DISTRESS PLEASE PAY FOR MY PASTA

yourusername: he clearly needs comfort!

carlossainz55: he doesn’t need comfort he’s trying to extort us

olliebearman: so you don’t love me enough to let me extort you?

carlossainz55: no?

user14: these rookies are cracking me up

user15: please strap them down in front of a camera and let them yap

gabrielbortoleto: did you see my save?

yourusername: i did! very impressive gabi

gabrielbortoleto: did you @carlossainz55 ?

maxverstappen1: so i mean nothing to you now?

gabrielbortoleto: NO! i love you max - did you see my save?

maxverstappen1: it was very impressive bubbles

carlossainz55: definitely not a ‘b grade’ driver

gabrielbortoleto: OMGGGG THANK YOU

maxverstappen1: i give up?

yourusername: i don’t really know what’s happening right now - but just go with it max, he still loves you he spoke at LENGTH about you to me just this morning

user16: these kids be attaching to anyone who looks at them

user17: they’re just like me for real

isackhadjar: looking forward to debriefing over garlic bread :D

yourusername: you were amazing today isack!

isackhadjar: hehehehehehehehe

carlossainz55: at least this one isn’t shouting at me

jackdoohan: what about me?

carlossainz55: you know what, you’ve bothered me the least so you’re my favourite

kimiantonelli: NOT FAIR

olliebearman: but i cycle?

gabrielbortoleto: but you liked my save?

isackhadjar: all i want is some garlic bread :(

yourusername: carlos! you can’t say one of them is your favourite - that’s not how kids work

carlossainz55: i never asked for this !!!

carlossainz55

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carlossainz55: back in italy for imola and on a date with my favourite girl

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user18: carlos went to italy extra early so they could have dinner without the rookies intruding lmao

user19: bro is being haunted by five kids

user20: he’s better than me because i would crumble immediately

yourusername: no one else i’d rather be with

carlossainz55: i’ve missed being with you (just you)

yourusername: we’ve had just enough alone time i think

landonorris: gross

carlossainz55: not you too

landonorris: if you think about it i was technically your first kid…

carlossainz55: ONE NIGHT WITHOUT THIS NONSENSE PLEASE

user21: i think carlos might be losing his mind

alexalbon: oh he definitely is if his loud ramblings i can hear through the driver room walls

yourusername: i think he’s just like that?

carlossainz55: huh?

yourusername: you asked me on a date because you were talking to yourself loudly before our interview about ‘how pretty my smile is’

carlossainz55: my thoughts are loud!

carlossainz55: but in that instance i’m very glad they were screaming in my head

yourusername: i’m very glad too <3

user22: omg that’s such a cute/concerning meet cute

user23: the most carlos sainz thing ever i fear

kimiantonelli: i see our invite got lost in the mail?

olliebearman: and in kimi’s home country… that’s just cruel

carlossainz55: i would like ONE romantic night with the love of my life ALONE

carlossainz55: CAN I PLEASE HAVE THAT? I DON’T THINK I’M ASKING THAT MUCH

isackhadjar: you didn’t need to be that mean about it :(

kimiantonelli: i’m sorry, i just wanted to show you the best places in imola …

olliebearman: does this mean you don’t want to go cycling on thursday anymore?

jackdoohan: can i still go for coffee with y/n?

gabrielbortoleto: we just wanted to see you guys :(

yourusername: no my babies :((( we love you and of course we want to see you! we just need to have some alone time every once in a while

carlossainz55: y/n please stop feeding into this

carlossainz55: STOP SHOWING ME THE PHOTOS THEY’RE SENDING YOU OF THEIR SAD FACES

carlossainz55: FINE! WE’LL ALL GO FOR BREAKFAST TOMORROW NOW LET ME ENJOY MY NIGHT WITH Y/N

gabrielbortoleto

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gabrielbortoleto: that was a big one! i’m sorry to the team but i’m happy to say that i’ll be okay and will be back for the next race. thank you y/n and carlos for coming and keeping me company in the hospital!

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user24: okay i know we’ve all poked fun at the grid kid thing and how it’s so funny that carlos hates it but for real, i’m glad they were in the paddock and were able to be there for him

user25: that makes all the jokey stuff so much better honestly

yourusername: we’re so happy you’re all okay gabi!

gabrielbortoleto: thank you for coming! i know i’m a bit of a drama queen but my parents couldn’t come from brazil so thank you for not leaving me alone :)

gabrielbortoleto: can we have a ducky sleepover?

carlossainz55: a what?

gabrielbortoleto: y/n calls us her duckies! so a ducky sleepover would be all of us coming over (and getting ice cream)

yourusername: i think that’s an amazing idea

carlossainz55: okay, okay. but i am never calling you guys duckies.

yourusername: just you wait baby :)

user26: his radio just reminded me how young him and all the other rookies actually are

user27: i want to just wrap them all up in blankets and tell them it’s all going to be okay

user28: good thing they have y/n and carlos to do that

alexalbon: he won’t tell you this but he did run back to his drivers room to get gabi a jumper and a blanket, he’s a softy for them really

yourusername: that's my man 🥰

kimiantonelli: we’re the five duckies so please refrain from flipping into the barriers again please and thank you

yourusername: kimi?!

carlossainz55: that’s not how we word these things kimi

kimiantonelli: woah i’m trying to lighten the mood

olliebearman: everyone has been a real debby downer today - like three of us got points! (this is a joke, i am happy you’re okay gabi)

gabrielbortoleto: bring the mood back down, i’ve got some more things i want to get with my sympathy points

carlossainz55: gabi???

gabrielbortoleto: fernando taught me to take advantage of anything and everything

carlossainz55: that sounds about right…

user29: why is fernando still at the scene of the crime

kimiantonelli: he’s old! he won his last championship before i was born!

fernandoalo_oficial: @carlossainz55 control your kid

carlossainz55: excuse me? after what you’ve taught gabi?

fernandoalo_oficial: oh don’t act so innocent carlito - did isack or did isack not steal all of the goodies from the media pen because he MANIPULATED the comms girls

isackhadjar: i DID NO SUCH THING

isackhadjar: i am just a nice guy!

jackdoohan: he distracted them and i took them!

fernandoalo_oficial: scoundrels

carlossainz55

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carlossainz55: as much as they’re annoying - i love our duckies and it’s going to take more than one DNF to turn me against them

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user30: oh wow he is a changed man

user31: i fear this is a real mark of maturity because believe me i’d be crashing the fuck out (pun intended)

user32: i mean now he’s seen it back he defo knows that it wasn’t really any one person’s fault

olliebearman: I’M SO SORRY CARLOS

olliebearman: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FORGIVE ME

kimiantonelli: what about me ????

olliebearman: you are NOT the priority here

kimiantonelli: we have a ship name ??? does that mean nothing?

olliebearman: not right now? not when our cycling sessions are on the line?

carlossainz55: are you guys finished arguing now?

olliebearman: can you forgive me now so we can get back to arguing

carlossainz55: i told you guys there’s no hard feelings, we all got squeezed in the rain - stop stressing

olliebearman: okay thanks

kimiantonelli: thx

kimiantonelli: anyway

kimiantonelli: HOW DARE YOU NOT WANT MY FORGIVENESS FIRST?

olliebearman: omg you’re so self-involved

jackdoohan: you gonna let him say that kimi?

kimiantonelli: ME? SELF-INVOLVED?

isackhadjar: ollie i can hear him bitching from here…

olliebearman: GASP!

gabrielbortoleto: kimi… clearly he doesn’t care about the sanctity of bearnelli

kimiantonelli: i can’t believe this 😖

yourusername: right okay let’s calm it down boys

carlossainz55: no this is quite entertaining let them keep going …

yourusername: so you are the bad influence

carlossainz55: if we have to keep them around i might as well enjoy it

yourusername: really?

carlossainz55: the longer they argue and instigate, the less they are bothering us and i can actually spend time with my girlfriend

user33: this whole comment section is just one big familial domestic

user34: they are everything to me

user35: carlos can never retire now i’m sorry those are the rules

yourusername

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yourusername: omg all five of our duckies scored points and carlos was on the pdoium this weekend at silverstone!!! what an anniversary weekend, and our duckies remembered!

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user36: THE DUCKIES

user37: i don’t care how dumb the nickname is i love it so much

user38: free yourself from thinking everything is cringe

jackdoohan: so since you’re from silverstone, can we claim this as a home race so we can all say got points at home

yourusername: i’ve seen shakier logic from oscar so i’ll say yes!

oscarpiastri: RUDE

kimiantonelli: he’s just bitter because no one cares about his lil grid kid stunt in monaco anymore now we have y/n and carlos

oscarpiastri: omg ??? leave me alone

olliebearman: come say that to our faces 😡

jackdoohan: he won’t we out number him

iscakhadjar: 💪

oscarpiastri: you people are all like rabid dogs

carlossainz55: watch what you say about the duckies

oscarpiastri: this is crazy, you were the one who was constantly complaining about them

carlossainz55: yes well now i like them! and i don’t appreciate your tone

oscarpiastri: why weren’t you this nice to me as a rookie?

carlossainz55: eh?

gabrielbortoleto: he just likes us better!

carlossainz55: he’s not wrong…

oscarpiastri: fine! charles is a better grid dad anyway

oscarpiastri: and while we’re at it i’m gonna claim max as well

charles_leclerc: yeah i never complained about oscar, i took him in immediately!

maxverstappen1: i don’t know how i got roped into this but yeah - we’re better!

user39: you know what? sure

user40: i stopped asking questions a long time ago

user41: they got them gifts for their anniversary? that’s too fucking cute i can’t

user42: duckies you are so iconic

carlossainz55: i guess the duckies are good for one thing - gifts

yourusername: it’s definitely a perk!

carlossainz55: but i’ll deal with all of their chaos if it means being with you

yourusername: awwwww i love you too

yourusername: so much we have five kids before being married…

carlossainz55: is this a hint?

yourusername: i don’t know you tell me?

kimiantonelli: PLEASE DON’T PROPOSAL WITHOUT US THERE

jackdoohan: that is a threat

olliebearman: bagsy being a bridesmaid

isackhadjar: i know someone who can get you the eiffel tower?

gabrielbortoleto: omg my first wedding party !!!

carlossainz55: let’s all slow down for a second - i will propose but you little devils will not be involved…

yourusername: but they’re so cute 😢

carlossainz55: maybe… but only because i love you

fin.

note: kinda on fire today? i will be crashing in like two hours so i had to be productive while i could be

[fushitoru]

i don't wanna lose this with you a spiderman gojo fic

pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ an amalgation of misunderstandings and stress lead to a very big fight between you and satoru, but you certainly don't expect the way he wins you back.

warnings ⸺ college au, spiderman!au, angst, hurt/comfort, i warn you reader might infurate you, but she's just a woman in stem :(, tooth rotting fluff bc he's a loser for his gf, not edited sue me

playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics

a/n you'll probably need to read the first installation (nsfw, so mdni) to understand this one :3

general masterlist | spiderman!gojo m. list

you've blocked gojo on all platforms.

you don't really remember what caused the "break up" (you didn't really break up). maybe it's the fact that you've been stressed about grad school admissions, your dorm's floor was covered in his boxers, and he's never been able to visit you pre-3am these days. somehow, the city's criminals are determined to keep your boyfriend away from you, and maybe it was your pms, or maybe it was truly just because satoru is annoying. regardless, it's when you guys have plans that's not an impromptu healing-gojo's-wounds-in-your-dorm-at-3am sesh and you're waiting at the coffee shop that you explode.

because he was supposed to arrive ten minutes ago, and when you move to go to the bathroom, you see him. through the window, his white hair is never not noticeable, and who you see next to him makes you falter.

he's standing next to a girl with blue tinted silver hair that you recognize as mei mei, and she's gripping his upper arm as she smiles while looking at his face, his lips with such fuck me eyes that you could tell they were having some sort of intimate conversation.

and if it were an ideal day, you would know that it's all a misunderstanding, you would know your boyfriend is someone you trust. but, again, the cards were stacked against you, and the only things that go through your mind all make your eyes all glossy. he's late to the one date that you planned because you and him were finally free at the same time and you've been busy because you've been desperately applying for internships because unlike your boyfriend you don't have a plethora of papers and coding experience and you've been getting four hours of sleep on average this week and ugh you've heard a rumor that satoru used to hook up with her and fuck now your tampon is poking at you in the wrong way—

great. now tears are fully streaming down your cheeks. in public.

as you rush to the table where your stuff is your vision is so blurry that you also almost fall flat on your face as you stumble over the legs of chairs and tables. blurting out a ensemble of choked up sorry's and excuse me's you hurriedly gather your laptop and notebooks in your backpack and book it for the exit.

the biting cold stings at your face, but you nevertheless determinedly move in the opposite direction of where satoru and mei mei are situated, praying your boyfriend doesn't recognize you. however, it seems that the heavens are working against you because you hear a yelled "baby?"

you don't look back because you know a new set of tears will leave your eyes, and with it being finals season, you're not very hydrated to being with. but you hear footsteps running towards you and fuck your boyfriend's long ass legs because he quickly catches up to you. then, he grabs your hands, attempting to stop you from running away and face him.

"baby," he breathes, baby blue eyes looking into yours as he moves to kiss your forehead. you stay silent, pinning your gaze to the ground while shivering. "where are you going? aren't we supposed to hang out right now?"

look, you and gojo have a good relationship. but recently, things have gotten...strenuous lately. you guys haven't been communicating, and it might not help that half of your calorie intake was from energy drinks. or perhaps what lead you to say what you said next was driven entirely by the brain eating mold on your unwashed dishes, but dumb excuses aside, you sneer. "shouldn't you be busy doing that with mei mei, instead?"

a small part of you--the part that knows you shouldn't be like this--feels relief that hurt doesn't immediately flash across his eyes, only confusion. but lack of sleep has not only stripped away at your sanity but also your people pleasing and overthinking tendencies, leaving you only as a girl frustrated, even irrationally angry, with her boyfriend. so you only avert your gaze when he dumbfoundedly asks, "what?"

"what do you mean, "what?"" you scoff, wrenching your hand from his grasp. "you were ten minutes late to our meet-up, gojo." it is at your use of his last name, instead of your sweet my love, that the hurt you've been looking for flashes across his eyes. he moves to speak but you cut him off, no longer wishing to be here with him. "if you're so busy talking to bitches you hooked up with before, why did you even bother saying yes to hanging out with me?"

he looks at you in confusion, eyes quickly flitting back and forth across you. then, slowly, as if he's still processing the weight of your accusations, he says, "i don't exactly know what you're referring to, but let's calm down---"

and you see red.

"calm down?" you snap, voice sharp and icy, just like the wind stinging your cheeks. "did you seriously just tell me to calm down? you were late again, gojo, and i find you chatting it up with her?" you practically spit the word, arms crossing as a flimsy defense against both the cold and the ache building in your chest.

satoru blinks, his confusion genuine, but you’re too far gone to care. "wait—mei mei? is this about mei mei? she's not—"

"don’t you dare finish that sentence," you cut him off, your voice rising as your blood boils hotter. "i don't want to hear how she's just a friend, or how it's not what it looks like. i’m so tired of hearing the same bullshit excuses."

"baby, you're jumping to conclusions—"

"and you’re jumping at the chance to look like an idiot in public," you snap, your hands trembling now, either from the cold or your rising fury. "god, what do you even say to her? let me guess, you go around telling girls you're spider-man to get into their pants, huh? bet that works like a charm."

the accusation hits like a slap, and for the first time, satoru looks genuinely stunned, his mouth falling open slightly. "what the hell are you even saying right now?"

"am i wrong?" you let out a bitter laugh, one that echoes in the frosty air. "you’re late to the one date i actually planned, and i see you with her, all cozy, like i’m not even waiting for you. like i don’t even matter."

his eyebrows knit together, frustration mixing with something softer. "you seriously think i’d—"

"i don’t know what to think anymore, satoru!" the words burst out of you, your voice cracking as hot tears well in your eyes. "all i know is that i can’t keep feeling like this. like i’m some afterthought while you’re out doing—whatever it is you do. swinging through the city or flirting with your exes or—" you choke on the words, wiping at your cheeks furiously as the tears spill over. "just forget it. i’m done."

"wait." his voice is quieter now, more desperate as he steps toward you, his hand reaching out. "baby, come on, we can talk about this—"

"no," you say firmly, jerking your hand away before he can grab it. "i’m blocking you. on everything." then, mockingly, "you can figure out how to save the world without me."

his eyes widen, his mouth opening like he’s about to plead or argue, but you don’t wait for him to speak. you turn on your heel and storm away, the cold wind biting at your skin as the lump in your throat grows heavier.

you don’t look back. not when he calls your name, not when you hear his footsteps falter. you just keep walking.

it’s 3 a.m., and you don’t know if you exist.

well, you do, but after how light you feel after you’ve cried a disgusting amount, you just lie down on your floor staring at the ceiling and contemplating the meaning of life. or more specifically, the meaning of your life, which right now feels like it’s revolving around nothing but stress and a breakup you don’t even fully understand.

you wouldn’t be having these problems if you were a childless cat lady.

but alas, you’re just a college student. in the few days where you haven’t seen satoru, you’ve finished all your finals—miraculously, considering the fragile state of your emotional wellbeing—and now you’re finally on break in your dorm. you’re supposed to go back home in two days, but the thought of packing feels like trying to climb a mountain barefoot. you can’t summon the energy to do anything except wallow in your self-pity and selfishness, letting it wrap around you like a weighted blanket that’s somehow comforting and suffocating all at once.

you’d like to say this is rock bottom, but truthfully, it’s worse than that. because rock bottom implies a kind of finality—a place to push off from. this? this feels more like you’re sinking in quicksand, the weight of everything dragging you further down.

in your stress and impulsiveness, you’ve managed to kill your entire grind for internships. deadlines have slipped past while you spent hours doom-scrolling job boards and second-guessing every application. the ambitious, career-focused version of yourself feels like a stranger now, buried under the weight of your own doubts and insecurities. and on top of that, you may have potentially lost the love of your life.

it’s laughable, really, how thoroughly you’ve managed to self-destruct in such a short time. the worst part? you can’t even bring yourself to check your socials. if you unblock him and see there aren’t any messages, you think your heart might shatter completely. which, if you’re being honest, isn’t exactly fair to him. you’re the one who had the meltdown. you’re the one who blocked him on everything. he probably doesn’t even know what he did wrong because you didn’t even communicate anything.

your stomach twists at the thought, guilt mingling with the ever-present ache of missing him. he was supposed to be the one person who made everything feel a little less impossible, and now you’ve pushed him away.

there has got to be a taylor swift song for this.

so you make your way to your spotify account to listen to afterglow, putting in your airpods while somberly looking at the ceiling once again as the lyrics fill your ears. tears well up as soon as the lyrics start

i blew things out of proportion, now you're blue⸻

tears well up before you can stop them, hot and heavy as they trail down your cheeks. god, you’re a mess. and yet, as much as you hate it, you can’t seem to stop the flood of thoughts that follow.

you miss him. you miss the way he made you laugh even when you were on the verge of tears, the way his ridiculous confidence somehow made you feel like everything would work out. you miss how he’d stay up late just to facetime you when you were overwhelmed with schoolwork, how he always seemed to know exactly when you needed him most.

and now? now you’ve gone and ruined it. maybe he’s angry, maybe he’s hurt, or worse—maybe he’s just done with you entirely.

the thought makes your chest ache, your breaths coming in shallow and uneven as the lyrics hit their crescendo.

i need to say, hey, it’s all me, in my head—

then, suddenly the song changes. you frown as you hear early 2010's pop blast through your ears.

i threw a wish in the well, don't ask me i'll never tell⸻

why the fuck is call me maybe playing?

annoyed and rubbing at your eyes, you move the change it back to, now, the sad girl hours playlist spotify curated for your and assume your dead fish position on the floor once again.

however, it seems as if your spotify is genuinely tweaking, like it's realized it’s gotten your attention. when call me maybe starts playing again, you groan out loud and move your phone. but before you have a chance to switch the song again, it seems to switch.

baby by justin bieber.

call me, blondie.

i love you, i'm sorry, gracie abrams.

letstalkaboutit, aminé.

i don't understand but i luv you, seventeen.

please please please, sabrina carpenter.

and then, once more, as if to really drive the point home: call me maybe, carly rae jepsen.

again, it's 3am, and you're stuck in a surreal mix of grief and confusion, staring at your phone as your spotify queue seems to have gained sentience. each song feels like a pleading nudge, an unmistakable pattern forming, and your blood runs cold when you remember one very important fact.

you share a spotify account with satoru.

"carly rae jepsen," you mutter under your breath, a mix of exasperation and fondness bubbling up despite yourself. he's hijacking your queue. right in the middle of your emo songs.

you sit up abruptly, tossing your airpods onto the bed, and hover over the call button on your phone. there’s a split second of hesitation—your pride battling with your longing—before you give in and press it.

the line rings twice before his voice comes through, breathless, like he’s been pacing. "baby?"

the sound of his voice sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, sharp and raw like an open wound. the sound of his voice makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, equal parts relief and guilt. "satoru," you say, barely above a whisper. "why are you messing with our spotify?"

"why am i messing with our spotify?" he echoes, his tone incredulous. "why did you block me on literally everything? what was i supposed to do—send you a letter by carrier pigeon?"

you wince at the edge in his voice, your earlier anger wilting under the weight of his hurt. "i… i don’t know," you admit, the words tumbling out before you can catch them. "i was upset, and i wasn’t thinking straight. i shouldn’t have done that."

"yeah, you shouldn’t have," he says, still sounding a little indignant, though there’s something softer beneath it now. "do you know how many songs i had to go through to make my point? do you know how hard it was to resist the urge to rickroll you instead?" then, there’s a pause on his end, the line suddenly feeling too quiet. then he sighs, his voice softening into something that feels too much like an apology. "i didn’t know what else to do. i hate not talking to you. i hate knowing i made you upset, even if i don’t entirely understand why."

you close your eyes, the lump in your throat returning with a vengeance. the silence stretches between you, thick and unbearable, until you finally break it. "i’m sorry," you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "i shouldn’t have blown up at you like that.” and now that the dam has been broken, it all comes rushing out as you start choking up. “i’ve just been so stressed, and i’ve been missing you and then i saw you with her and then got irrationally angry when i really should’ve trusted you and oh my god i’m like a possessive tradwife husband that doesn’t let you leave the farm i’m sorry and i didn’t even communicate before i blew up at you like that—”

"hey. hey, hey, it’s okay," he says immediately, his tone filled with an earnestness that makes your chest tighten. "i know things have been hard for you. i should’ve been better, too. more present. i hate that you’ve been feeling like this while i’ve been...doing spider-man things." then, he lets out a dramatic sigh, the kind that’s equal parts exasperation and playfulness. "but wasn’t fair,” and you can hear a whine in his voice, “you blocked me and then ghosted me like i’m some kind of random tinder match. do you have any idea how insane i felt when i couldn’t even check to see if you were okay? i thought you hated me."

your breath catches at his words, guilt twisting like a knife in your chest. "i don’t hate you," you say quickly, the words spilling out in a rush. "i could never hate you. i was just… stupid, and emotional, and i didn’t know how to handle everything piling up. i’m so, so sorry, satoru."

there’s a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter, a little more vulnerable. "then why did you say those things? about mei mei, and… and me using the spider-man thing to get into girls’ pants."

you bite your lip, the memory of your harsh words making your throat tighten. "i didn’t mean any of it," you whisper. "i was just lashing out, and i know it wasn’t fair to you. i know you’d never do something like that, and i trust you, satoru. i just… i let my insecurities get the better of me."

"wait," he interrupts, his voice laced with amusement that shouldn’t make your heart ache the way it does. "you actually think i’d use the spider-man thing as a pickup line? that’s...wow. that’s genius. i should write that down."

"satoru!" you exclaim, half-laughing, half-crying, your emotions unraveling all over again. "i’m being serious!"

"i know, i know," he says, but you can hear the smile in his voice, warm and teasing. "and i’m being serious, too. i’d never do that to you. mei mei’s just...she tripped in front of me, i was just helping her up. i didn’t even realize how it must’ve looked, but i’ve never done anything with her. you’re it for me, okay? always."

you sniffle, wiping at your cheeks as your heart swells and aches all at once. "you mean that?"

"of course i do," he says, his voice soft and sincere in a way that makes your breath hitch. "i love you, even when you block me on everything and make me resort to spotify warfare." he sighs again, but this time it’s softer, the warmth in his voice breaking through his remaining irritation. "i’m not mad. i mean, i was mad, but mostly i was just upset. you really hurt my feelings, you know?"

the lump in your throat grows, your guilt threatening to choke you. "i know," you say, your voice cracking. "i’m so sorry, satoru. i’ll make it up to you, i promise."

"oh, you will make it up to me," he says, the teasing edge returning to his tone. "i want a week of boyfriend privileges—no complaining when i steal your fries, no making fun of my movie picks, and you’re buying me snacks for at least three of those days."

a small smile tugs at your lips despite the tears still clinging to your lashes. "deal," you say softly.

there’s a pause on his end, and then his voice comes through the line, quieter but no less sincere. "you really mean it? you’re not still mad at me?"

"i’m not mad," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "i was never really mad at you, satoru. i was mad at everything else, and i took it out on you. but i’m not mad anymore. i just… i miss you."

"i miss you too," he says, and the raw honesty in his voice---the subtle way it chokes up, as if he had been crying and missing you too---makes your chest ache. "so, can i come over? or are you going to make me keep hijacking your playlists to get your attention?"

you laugh softly, the sound tinged with relief. "just come over already, you dummy. and bring snacks. good ones."

"done," he says, his grin audible through the phone. "i’ll be there in twenty. and for the record, you owe me at least a whole playlist dedicated to how amazing i am and you sucking the absolute soul out of my dick---."

"don’t push your luck," you reply, but there’s no heat in your words, only warmth (and you’re absolutely going to suck his soul out of his cock). regardless, for the first time in days, the tightness in your chest starts to ease, replaced by something lighter, something whole.

general masterlist | spiderman!gojo m. list

a/n he's so cute :( i'll keep on writing stuff for them whether it be small fics like this or long ass fics. i think my next one is gonna be freaky if you guys are nice to this one

TAGLIST im really sorry if i missed you if you sent an ask asking to be tagged pls feel free to remind me again im afriad ur ask has drowned in my shitposts and other asks

@chilichopsticks @livelaughloveisagiyoichi @moonchhu @k0z3me @seobluv

@m1gota @celloccino @satxoru @fishrene @myahfig4

@watermelonmuntchers @bxnfire @ayumilk @venussdovess @michelleeveline

@bochichi @applepi25 @6xillaa @almostdifferentstudent @mugamoo

@iv-vee @jaemissso @wil10wthetree @localartisttttt @rirk-ke

@backinmyphase @novaisbebita @heiejdhdh @blueemochii @helloalex80

@gojodickbig @kyon-cherri @nikkissecretlibrary @omg-its-rdj @isleqt

@suguruscousin @idkwhatursayinh @yourfavbabigirl

[satoblue]

“REVERENCE” — gojo satoru

satoru can’t help but boast about himself — about how great he is. so, maybe it’s time you show him how much you agree with that sentiment. | wc: 2.5k

MDNI, f!reader, established relationship (dating), slight religious themes, cock worship, praise kink, handjob (which he helps with) then blowjob, fic is lengthy like his cock bc i can talk about him all day, i feel like my smut always sucks but my baby boy deserves the world so i wrote it anyway : ( | dividers made by me

if there is one thing your boyfriend, satoru, is not— it would be humble.

when he hangs up on yaga a short while after his most recent mission, he tosses his phone onto the coffee table with a casual flick of his wrist like it offends him by daring to interrupt his greatness.

then, he immediately launches into one of his post-call victory speeches.

“he practically begged for my help, y’know?” satoru sighs like he can’t help it, rubbing his nape like it’s just another day of being himself.

he gestures dramatically, pacing in front of the couch like he’s on stage for you.

“ahh, what a pain. i mean, what else was i supposed to do? they needed me — like always.”

satoru folds his arms over his chest, pristine white lashes fluttering shut with a smug grin plastered on his face as he talks basically to himself. his head dips a bit, snowy bangs falling forward at the tilt.

“honestly, i should start charging just for existing in a room.” he jokes, as if he of all people required the extra cash.

“though, can you blame them for depending on me?”

“oh boy,” you mumble under your breath from behind the pages.

“and when i stepped in, yaga sounded so relieved. like, ‘oh thank god gojo’s here.’ as if there was ever a moment i wasn’t.” he smirks, clearly proud of himself.

you stifle a laugh, biting your lip.

usually, you’d let him bask in the glow of his own superiority, nodding along absentmindedly. but tonight? tonight you were feeling a little bold.

so instead, you softly hummed.

“i agree.”

as soon as the words leave your lips, satoru halts mid pose. then slowly, his head turns in your direction.

“eh?”

you smile innocently at his confusion, setting your book down in your lap, your attention now fully on him. “i said — i agree.”

his brows furrow, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing — slightly skeptical.

“you— you agree with me?”

“mhm!” you hum, stretching and arching your back just enough off your seat to get his eyes to flicker to your tits — like he isn’t always ogling them anyway.

“satoru, you’re right.”

his jaw drops a little.

what the hell is happening?

you never say stuff like that. normally, you just roll your eyes in that cute, indulgent way that says, “yeah, yeah, you’re the strongest — now shut up and pass me the remote.”

but this time?

this time you said it like you meant it. with that tone. that smile — the ones that make his knees feel weak, his cock throb, and his brain short circuit.

“wha—”

you get up slowly and saunter over to him, each step deliberate.

“you’re big and strong and powerful. kind of intimidating when you get serious.” you let your scorching gaze rake down his body. “i’d say i’m pretty lucky to be your girlfriend.”

there’s a pause. a beat of stunned silence.

then his mouth parts slightly, blinking rapidly.

“...for now?”, he questions with a tinge of hope.

“for now,” you reaffirm with a coy smirk. “if you keep talking about yourself like that, i might not be able to resist forever, ‘toru.”

and satoru, not a man easily flustered, turns three shades redder at your flirting.

“you— you’re— are you making fun of me..?”

you’re standing in front of him now, tracing your finger down the center of his chest slowly until he shivers, gasping softly at your nail hooking into the fabric of his shirt.

“no — i mean it.”

satoru doesn’t move. doesn’t even breathe. just stares at you with wide, blue eyes — the flesh of his cheeks contrasting it with a beautiful, blooming red.

you lean in, breath caressing the shell of his red-tipped ear, pecking it — a feathery brush, before pulling back slightly.

“and the way you fight?” you sigh dreamily like you’re swooning, fingers slipping to his nape, toying over his undercut. “you’re like a god.”

satoru’s hands hover awkwardly over your waist, as if unsure whether or not to grab you and check if he’s hallucinating.

“i— okay. this is— you can’t just—”

“but i can.” you interrupt, smiling up at him like you have all the time in the world. “no one ever gives you the worship you deserve, satoru. but me?” your voice drops low — seductive. “i’d kneel for you anytime.”

his whole body jolts, an involuntary reaction. and then his hands move before his brain instructs them to — holding onto your waist like it’s the only thing anchoring him to earth, pulling you in so close that your bodies are pressed together.

often, people tolerate satoru’s ego. they scoff or say he’s annoying. and they don’t look him dead in the eye and say ‘i’d kneel for you anytime’ either.

and now you’re touching his chest, looking up at him like he’s something worth worshipping. like he’s not just strong — but something more.

satoru wants to laugh — maybe even cry. maybe drop to the floor and beg you to say it all again but slower this time so it’s imprinted on his entire being.

if you keep talking like this, he’s going to lose. but be doesn’t exactly know what. satoru feels defenseless and vulnerable for the first time in his life — like he’s begging to be praised again.

he’s completely done for.

and he’s going to thank every god, every star, and every universe that you’re his.

for now, you said.

he’s about to make it forever.

“oh my god, you’re trying to kill me,” he mutters, breathless and panicked. “you— you’re being evil right now!”

you kiss his jaw lightly as he pouts. “no, baby. i’m just being honest.”

“okay,” he rasps, reaching behind him for the arm of the couch, his other hand dragging down his flustered face. “i-i need to sit down—”

you smile softly, eyes glimmering at the effect you have on him, guiding him so he doesn’t topple over. “of course, honey.”

he isn’t looking at you anymore — he can’t. his heart is pounding in his throat, and his cock is already twitching painfully in his pants that seemed so unbelievably tight now.

satoru isn’t used to this — not at all. he is the one who flirts — who teases. never the other way around.

but you? you’re giving it back tenfold.

no — you’re feeding his ego. fueling it. you sound like you are genuinely grateful the universe made a man like him and put him in front of you.

and it’s true. you have been thinking for a while that you don’t show or tell him much how you respect him. because to you, he’s not just a powerful sorcerer — he’s one of a kind.

there will never be another man like him. there will never be another satoru.

and there will never be someone like you in any world. to him, you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened. maybe even proof that if there is a god, they love satoru enough to give you to him.

without a word, you drop to your knees right in front of him, as if you were getting ready to pray.

“wha— wait, babe— what are you—?”

your hands are already sliding up his thighs, slow and reverent.

his breath catches, sentence stuttering to a stop. those legs of his jolt slightly when your fingers graze the huge bulge inside his pants. your touch is delicate — gentle even. gentler than anyone has ever handled him before.

you look up at him with a sweet, caring smile.

“i told you i’d kneel for you,” you speak softly, fingers grazing his belt. “did you think i was joking?”

satoru’s hips are lifting, betraying him as you successfully undo his belt with practiced ease.

you aren’t in a rush. you reveal him like a work of art — like something you want to admire.

his mouth opens to reply after a moment, but then it shuts again. oddly enough, he has nothing to say. he is rendered speechless, but his heart is filled with warmth regardless of the lewdness of the situation.

he loves you. god, he loves you so much it terrifies him.

if he could, he’d shout it from the skyline. hell, he’d tell god himself. that gojo satoru — your satoru — loves you so much that it makes his chest ache. like his heart was only made simply to hold you and only ever you in it.

but no matter how loud he says it, no matter how many times — it’ll never be enough. there aren’t words big enough in any language in the world to express what it is exactly that he feels for you.

when his cock springs free, flushed and hard and begging for attention — you actually sigh at the glorious sight.

“god, you’re so pretty.”

satoru cheeks are on fire now. “w-what…?”

you smile cheekily, tilting your head, fingers wrapping around the base.

“you heard me. you’re perfect. big, thick, and so… sensitive.”

you start lazy, like you’ve got all the time in the world and nowhere else you’d rather be than with your hand wrapped around your boyfriend’s cock.

he’s already hot and stiff in your palm, back resting against the couch with his legs splayed open, hair a mess from running his hand through it multiple times.

satoru’s breath hitches when your thumb sweeps gently over the soggy tip.

you give him a little grin. “already?” you tease though it’s affectionate by your tone, hand a mess due to his copious pre.

the chuckle he gives you is short and tense.

“for you? always.”

with a quiet hum of acknowledgment, you begin to stroke him slowly. so slow it’s torturous. small fingers glide down, then back up at a maddening pace — slicked up from the pearly white dribbling at the sides.

satoru releases a guttural sound, head tipping back, but his eyes stay fluttered open, half lidded just enough to watch you.

“fuck,” he breathes. “you’re so good at that it’s unfair.”

you huff, “i’m barely doing anything.”

and maybe that’s what gets him — because a second later, he’s reaching down. his large hand wraps around yours, firm and warm, and suddenly he’s guiding the movements.

not fast. just more insistent. needy and greedy.

his hand works together over yours up and down his cock in a way that makes his eyes roll back in ecstasy.

“you’re—” he starts, then laughs breathlessly in a way that makes your heart stutter, his voice cracking. “you’re literally making me help jerk myself off right now.”

you murmur, watching his flushed, wrecked face. “you look so pretty like this...” it isn’t a response to what he said, simply a statement — a fact that you felt the need to say in the heat of the moment.

and the way your hand fits beneath his, nice and snug, makes it feel like something more than just sex. like something tender. something intimate and passionate.

then you squeeze just a little tighter, dragging a shudder out of him that makes you feel like the powerful one now.

“still feel like the strongest? because you are,” you whisper in reassurance. “look at this — so big, so perfect. you’re unreal, satoru.”

then, you kiss the leaking tip — and his thighs tense.

satoru makes a sound halfway between a choke and a prayer, watching you on your knees for him, mouthing at his cock like it’s something sacred.

your lips wrap around the head of his cock, slowly, and satoru’s hands fist the couch cushions like they are the only thing keeping him steady.

he lets out a wavering, “oh—”, voice cracking. you barely have him halfway in and already his chest is heaving, his blue eyes wide and glazed over.

you stare up at him as you slide lower, your lips wet and glistening, cheeks hollowing just a little. and that eye contact— fuck. it’s dangerous. you are dangerous. and yet, every warm inch of your mouth feels like heaven.

he exhales sharply.

“s-slow down,” he manages, a trembling hand brushing back your hair in an affectionate gesture just to see more of you. “i’m not gonna last if you keep—nghh—that thing you just— yeah, just like t-that!”

you lick a patient, wet stripe from the base to the head, keeping your eyes locked on his like you need him to see how much you adore this — adore him.

you aren’t bobbing or rushing — you were savoring.

you suckle gently on the angry red tip, tongue swirling in lazy circles while your hand worked his cock with precision — like you knew his body better than anyone, how to make him absolutely lose it. your other hand massaging his thigh, grounding him, as if to say ‘relax — i’ve got you.’

satoru’s breath comes in broken gasps, hips bucking into your mouth — but not too much as to hurt you.

“say you love me! pleasepleaseplea—!”

he needs to hear it, so you do.

a warbled ‘i love you’ around his cock is all it takes before satoru cums with a hoarse and desperate moan, pushing your head down all the way without a care, stroking your hair in apology as you choke around his girth along with the flow of his thick, heady semen — his mind too clouded by the pleasure as he fucks your face.

“oh my god, yes— yes—!”

you don’t stop, easing him through his orgasm as you swallow down his cum. you took it. every last drop. swallowed it all down like it was what you were born to do.

satoru continues to twitch inside your throat and against your tongue, fingers trembling where they are tangled in your hair, body shaking like you’ve just sucked the very soul out of him.

when you finally pull off with a pop, he’s absolutely boneless and weak — legs spread wide, chest heaving, flushed all over.

his shirt has ridden up, exposing a strip of stomach and his happy trail — his expression that of pure awe and satisfaction as he stares down at you with half lidded eyes and parted, pink lips.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, giving him a smug smile.

“still need to sit down?” you tease.

satoru blinks at you in surprise.

then, he exhales a sharp laugh, dragging you up off the floor and into his lap, still breathless and shaky — but kissing lovingly and gratefully along the soft skin of your neck.

“i’m gonna make you forget your own name,” he mutters against your skin. “just— give me, like, two minutes first.”

he truly is blessed.

[commodorez]

General pieces of advice for 2025:

Switch to Firefox

Ignorance is not a sin -- don't be afraid to say "I don't know", despite what academia might have taught you

Engage in good-faith discussions with your fellow user, you might find a new friend

Ask questions. Most of the time, the worst case scenario the answer is "I don't know"

Reblog stuff you enjoy for others to enjoy. Likes don't mean much here on tumblr (think of them as bookmarks), but a reblog may make someone's day -- especially artists!

Cite your sources on images and try to tag things accurately where you can. Some folks will enjoy knowing where you found something so they can learn more. The breadcrumbs you drop may lead to someone else's inspiration

Forgive yourself

Take pictures of the mundane, like your house. You never know when you will need to look back on that again for posterity/prosperity or more likely utility

Friendships made beyond school are forged through showing up regularly to the same space

Wear your face mask. Yes. Still. You want a KN95 or better, make sure it's a good seal. And keep up to date with your covid boosters. Not only do you not want to get sick, you don't want to be the reason someone else gets sick. It sucks, but getting long covid sucks more. Each time you catch it, your chances of developing long covid increase because the damage is cumulative

Install an adblocker: ublock origin, pi-hole, whatever's new and beautiful

Don't feed the generative AI. Draw it shitty or hire an artist.

Go to a Vintage Computer Festival

Take the old batteries out of your vintage computers and electronics so you don't have to deal with a corrosion-fest. Varta meltdowns suck

Check if your headlights are on. DRLs are not enough, and some cars don't automatically turn them on. If you headlights are on, that will turn your tail lights on. Other drivers need to be able to see you on the road

Turn off "best stuff first" on your tumblr dashboard controls. It's your dashboard, curate it! Otherwise, you miss out on the really niche stuff

Remember that progress is not always linear

Take a moment to enjoy silence in your space. Mr. Rogers put it best, we live in a noisy world

Help your mom out with doing the dishes, or however that proverb best applies to you and your situation

Thank folks around you for things that they do that nobody thinks to show appreciation for. It goes a long way when people are seen for the effort they put in

Be good to each other

[watermelonshine]

BBF ELLIE PLS W SMUT? 🤗🤗

best friend!ellie x reader nsfw mdni

cw: possessive ellie, reader got out of the relationship so it's not cheating, fingering

Ellie and you are best friends, been so since middle school. She used to scare off the kids that tried to mess with you. She used to scare off the jocks that tried to hit on you. Now, she scares off anyone who tries to get in your pants at the club.

Somehow, regardless of her being so protective and possessive of you, you happened to get a boyfriend. He was...good you'd say, you didn't have any prior experiences to compare your relationship with. But you did assume it would be something more than you had expected. He was the first ever person who confessed to you and you being the hopeless romantic you are, you said yes. He treated you well, never tried to pry into your life, was somewhat respectful; he really shouldn't have called your old cat "almost expired", and never asked you to join his occult group meetings, thank goodness for that. And then there was the sex... He was sloppy, but not in the good way. Most of the time, it's just him rubbing on you with the poor attempt to playing with your clit. Thinking about it sent shivers down your spine, it was terrible. You guys have broken up a few days ago, he initiated, stating that he and his group tried to do some weird ass paranormal activity and that it would have an effect on their relationships or some bullshit and he can't risk your life or whatever. You needed to get out of the relationship anyways, he just gave a reason to do so albeit a dumb one. But jeez you spent too much time in that relationship.

Ellie didn't know that nerd from the other class would be a threat. She noticed him around you, staring at you with... something in his eyes, it's hard to say when he had huge glasses on. But she assumed he wouldn't have the guts to come and confess to you. Besides there were bigger threats surrounding you than him, she can't waste her time on that scrawny dude. But oh boy, was she proven wrong. She was almost about to break that boy's nose but then, she heard you say yes.

"Seriously? That guy? Come on now."

"I just want to give it a try, I've never done this before. Besides if anything goes wrong I have you, no?"

Her heart did a flip but she put that aside.

"He looks like he has tentacle porn on his hard drive!"

She wasn't wrong, you did find questionable stuff on his computer when you were looking for some photos. But you brushed that off, you weren't supposed to see it anyways, bringing it up would mean he'd know you were snooping around in his computer.

Ellie hated when he would put his hands around your waist and boast about how beautiful you are.

He didn't even know how to get you off, the fuck is he boasting about?

Ellie hated when you laid on her lap and told her how you didn't feel any sparks around him anymore, if you ever even had the spark with him. She hated that he was the one who was able to wake up next you and not her. She hated the fact he had the right to call you "girlfriend" and not her. She hated the fact that he had the chance to see you naked before her. She tried to keep those limp dicks away from you almost her entire life and somehow, you ended up with the worst of them all. So when you knocked on her door that day and said that you got dumped, she felt a weight off her shoulder- wait did you say he dumped you?

He?

Dumped you?

Over what?

"I spent months even years over him, thinking maybe I help him grow into his full potential. But all these years and he still wasn't even able to please me! What was I even thinking?"

Ellie wanted to ask you the same thing, what were you thinking dating him and not her? What were you expecting from dating someone she definitely didn't approve of? Why did you allow someone else who was not her to even live with you? To see you all day every day? To eat in the same table as you? To sleep in the bed as you? To have you under them?

Poor you never even had a proper orgasm before.

So when she hovered over you with her face few inches away from you, you whimpered at the proximity.

"Shush just let me make you feel like the goddess you are."

You were a gasping mess when she was thrusting her fingers into you. She peppered kisses all over you, your face, your neck, your tits. Gosh the sound you made when her lips brushed over your hardened nipples. You wrapped your hands around her, with your palms digging into her shoulder.

"E-ellie- t-too much-"

"You can take it, I know you can princess."

Fuck you've not felt this way in a long time, and you don't want it to end. You've been deprived for far too long. And it definitely seemed like Ellie really loved your fucked out face, with the way she kept grunting and speeding at every moan you let out. You weren't stupid to let go of the opportunity of allowing Ellie to fuck you stupid.

While you chased your orgasm, Ellie nuzzled her nose at the crook of your neck and peppered kisses all over it. Her fingers still moving to help you get over your high.

"Took you way too long, didn't it?"

Ellie's eyes went wide open.

note : I should really stop writing stuff at ungodly hours, I wrote this at the asscrack of dawn. also I'm back! ⊂⁠(⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠)⁠)⁠⊃

[suiana]

bruh i was talking to my friends about our types in guys and i said "i like boyfailures, absolute losers" and rambled about how they were just so cute and I'd be going 'yeah that's cool babe, tell me more about your pokemon and dinosaurs☺️' but then later on in the dsy i realised bro what if i AM the loser and someone thought of me like that 😵 therefore i give you yandere! golden boy x loser! reader

basically you're a loser who doesn't think they're a loser. you're the type of loser who talks a lot of shit online about how 𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖒𝖆 and hot you are when in reality you can't order a meal without hyping yourself up for 5 minutes beforehand.

you'd be pretending you're hot and mysterious but the second someone indicates the SMALLEST hint of anything you're interested in, you go on full on rambles and rants. then you snap back to reality and realize that hey! you don't even know this stranger! and just... walk away.

you're the type of person to go to the doctor with your mommy because you're scared to talk to doctors yourself and you'll look at her when the doctor asks any question, expecing her to answer for you. 'so what's your name? looks at mother' ahhh reaction.

yeah. basically, a loser. with hyperfixations on anime/game characters that you consume millions of content of. you probably sleep with plushies too and read fanfiction before sleeping. or you're doomscrolling reddit/tiktok/some form of social media and sleeping at 3 in the morning.

enter, him.

the golden boy. the perfect boy with perfect grades and a perfect body and- basically everything. he does like 3 sports, speaks 5 languages, everyone loves him, he graduated from an ivy league or an ivy league equivalent, and he's going to inherit his father's company! rich, tall, handsome. he has everything set out for him. cool beans.

anyway!

you don't know how, and you don't know why, but this man is now in love with you. you... probably met him while working your minimum wage job at some fast food restaurant.

"hi, i think you're really cute. would you like to go out on a date with me?"

"h-huh? erm..."

yeah, you don't know how to react so you just malfunctioned briefly before taking another customer's order. but he wouldn't let up. not at all, because he'd find your socials and have HOURS of conversation with you, on total accident, of course! no dirty work involved. totally. just pure coincidence, just like god or whatever is above intended!

"heh, must be my aura that allowed me to get that limited edition skin... what do you think, best friend?"

"yeah, this is the one guys. I'm marrying them."

"what did you say, best friend?"

"oh, nothing at all ☺️ go on with your rant, sweetie."

by some stroke of luck, definitely not him pulling some strings, you get a job offer that somehow is related to- wow, what do you know! his company! so you leave your boring 9-5 job and sign the contract. what a nice friend he is!

"here, just sign down on the line and you'll be able to start working right away."

"wow this contract is really long, best friend."

"haha... right, I'm definitely just a best friend..."

a contract that definitely does NOT bind you to him. yeah, no, definitely not. nuh uh. what? you're trying to read the fine print? there's no need for that! it's all just boring stuff...

yeah, definitely no conditions that will allow him to legally keep you trapped with him... and should you ever try to leave. well, it's just not possible.

but hey! at least now you get endless cash and you even have this cool best friend who really seems to spoil you!

oh, and now he's asking to be your boyfriend.

"sorry, you're not my type... i like the losers. boyfailures, even."

"sweetie..."

..

...

yeah, so now you're dating. it's all cool. yeah, you... totally don't mind this.

"best friend can we get some chicken nuggets? i really want some chicken nuggets and fries, best friend."

"it's boyfriend, sweetie. but of course! anything you want ☺️ we can get those chicken nuggets and more if you want."

okay well, at least it's not that bad... he's rich and handsome, he spoils you and loves you! like those guys in fanfiction, right? maybe a little too much though.

"sweetie, I'm throwing away all your merchandise of this man thing, okay? I'm replacing it with merchandise of me."

"don't tell me you're already throwing it away..."

"☺️"

"we're OVER."

[f1fantasys]

Post Assessment Fuck

Warnings - SMUT. FILTH. MINORS DNI

His text caught you off guard. You knew Lando's day was brutal, assessment days always took everything out of him, so to say his message surprised you would be an understatement. You'd only been together for 6 weeks, although known each other for much longer, and the whole ''dating'' thing still felt kind new to you both. The words on your screen told a different story though.

''care to help your boyfriend feel better after a hard day? Need a good fuck to get it out of my system ;) My place?''

You stared at your screen, mouth agape, body tingling with anticipation.

''be there in 20'' was all you said, scrambling to gather a few bits and pieces of your stuff to take to his apartment, knowing you'd be spending the night there.

''door's unlocked'' he said back.

The drive to Lando's had your mind spiraling, pussy clenching and desperate, cussing yourself at how his words affected you like this.

You walked in and your eyes landed right on him. Splayed out on the couch, shirtless, sweat literally dripping off his body as his breath was quick. He looked like a god. Tired as fuck, but hot as fuck.

Lando caught you staring for a good few seconds, smirking when he realized the effect he had on you.

''Just gonna stand there? Or come get what you want?'' he mumbled, wincing at the pain shooting through his body when he tried to stand up.

''Depends, did you pass your test?'' you said, smiling and walking up to him. As desperate as you were for the nasty, you couldn't help but pull him in for a hug, knowing that after a day like today, his body craved it.

Lando hugged you back tightly, letting out a breath of relief to finally be back in his happy place. ''I did, fuck it was intense today'' he said, nuzzling his face in your neck.

''Proud of you baby'' you cooed, pulling back to leave a quick kiss on his cheek before he pulled you down to the couch with him.

You cupped his face, he looked exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open as he brushed a hand through his precious curls.

''Sooo, your message? Baby you're exhausted..?'' you questioned him, bringing a smile to his face that melted your heart.

''Advice from Jon''

''What?'' you chuckled.

''Yeah. said a good fuck will have be feeling ace tomorrow''

''Yeah?''

''Yeah. So walk to the room, you wont be able to walk tomorrow'' he said so casually while you were a mess on the inside.

You did as he said, pulling him up and off the couch as well and dragging him to his room, stripping your clothes off in the process.

''I'm yours Lan, tell me what you want'' you said, wanting, no needing him to take control, knowing it's what he needed right now.

He stripped his own boxers off before pushing you to lay down, hovering above you and leaving a trail of wet kisses on your chest, making his way up to your kiss. Your hands tangled in his sweat-clad hair, pulling and tugging at it while you wrapped your legs around his middle, letting out a moan when you felt his thick girth against your stomach.

You tugged in his hair again so lock lips in a sloppy, messy kiss that had Lando swallowing your gasps on breath as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip before sliding into your mouth, tasting every inch of you. Spit was already running down both your chins, as he moved his mouth lower again, down to the sweet spot on your neck while his hands found your peaked nipples, pinching at them harshly.

''Fuck, Lando please. Just fuck me. Nothing else. Need to feel you'' you pleaded, eager to have your walls wrapped around him.

He said nothing as he sat back on his heels, tired eyes finding yours as he pumped himself, his cock growing impossibly harder in front of your eyes. He reached to his bedside table to grab a fol packet out of the box which was emptying too quickly, but you stopped his movements.

''No condom'' you said softly, unsure if you even wanted to hear what his response would be.Suddenly he was smirking, spitting down on himself as lube, not that he'd need it as you were like fucking niagra falls down there. He slid himself through your folds a few times as well, your back arching off the bed when the man had barely even touch you.

''Fuck me you're dripping. You sure?'' he whispered?

''Yes. Give it to me. Fuck me raw'' you begged.

Finally he thrust himself through your hole, bottoming out straight away in a hard push that had you both grunting and groaning, gasping for air. He stayed still for a few moments, always giving your body a few seconds to adjust to his bigger than average size.

''Uh, Lando'' you whispered, body on overdrive especially at the feeling of him with no barrier between you both. Your walls clenched painfully around him as he let out his own strangled moans.

''Shit Y/N'' he said, chest heaving. ''You're so fuckin tight. Feels so good, fuck'' he mumbled as he started to move. Pulling out completely before hammering into you, repeating the process again and again.

His pace was relentless, unfiltered, a man on a mission to fuck his girl because she took him so well. The room was filled of heavy breaths, moans, grunts, and the sound of wet skin slapping skin, a sheet of sweat making both your bodies sticky and filthy.

''Taking me so well, letting me fuck you like this, my slut, yeah?'' he said between breaths of pounding into you.

''Yours'' you breathed out, unable to keep up with anything, all you could think about was how good he felt, buried inside you.

''M close'' you mumbled when Lando's finger rubbed your clit, and within seconds your orgasm ripped through your body, shuddering and shaking beneath him as he let out a string of curse words at the sight of your cum coating his dick.

He slumped forward onto your body, his pace not faltering one bit as his lips crashed into yours for another dirty kiss as your cries intensified with each thrust of his.

''Lan, please'' you begged, not sure for what, but he read you like an open book.

''I know baby, fuck'' he said, slowing his movements but still thrusting in hard and deep within you, your body moving up with each movement.

''Gonna cum one more time for me baby?'' he asked, words slurring because he himself was so close to letting loose.

Words had long left your brain, all you could do was dig your nails into Lando's biceps and bite down on his shoulder, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes over how incredible this felt.

Suddenly pulled out, chucking lazily at you as you whined, but quickly shut up up when you were pulled to the edge of the bed. He placed one foot on the bed to stead himself as he grabbed your hips, hands pinning you down before resuming his activities. Thrusting in and out of your cunt like his life depended on it.

You groaned as you felt another orgasm approaching hard and fast, Lando talking you through it, getting desperate for his own high.

''Let it out Y/N, you're doing so well for me baby, taking my cock raw like this, fuck, gonna be the end of me one day'' he said.

It wasn't a few seconds later that you were trembling again, your body taken over in another rippling orgasm as you cried out his name, both in pain and pleasure.

''Where do you want it?'' he asked sternly, but you were too fucked out to answer.

He asked again, his core muscles flexing with desperation, tethering on the edge with each second.

''Y/N fuck, tell me'' he all but shouted as your voice suddenly found it away out of your mouth.

''In me!'' you shrieked, moaned out loud at the fact that you barely finished your sentence when you felt Lando's release shoot through your body, his grunts obscene as he let out ropes of warm cum, filling you up, literally.

His body shuddered, twitched, jerked, everything, as he fell on top of you, your bodies stuck together like glue because of all the sweat.

Your chests were heaving, breaths heavy from your highs as you lay there, unable to move or speak, the only sensations being shivering from the cold and Lando softening inside you.

After a few moments, you bought your hand up to run it through his hair as he cuddled you impossibly closer.

Normally he'd clean you up after, but today you both were too tired and worn out to care, so Lando slowly slipped out of you before you crawled into bed, pulling the covers up as he spooned you from behind, but not before thanking you.

Lando awoke the next morning to your face between his legs. You really hadn't planned on it, but you needed to taste him, so you slipped under the covers, wrapping your hand around his dick that was hard as fuck without so much as a touch from you.

He already had pre-cum oozing out from the slit at the top, and as you licked it clean, his body jolted to life, cock bucking in your hand and his hands instinctively held your head tight.

''Fuck me, i could get used to this'' he mumbled lazily.

You stayed silent, instead wrapping your lips around his tip, sucking harshly as he let out a few guttural moans, giving him a few teasing licks before taking as much of his girth into your mouth as you could.

Watching him through hooded eyes, you pumped the part of him that you couldn't fit, while your other hands fondled and tugged on his balls roughly.

''Fuck, feels so good. That mouth of yours'' he cooed, thrusting his own hips up now to fuck into you mouth relentlessly.

You pulled back for air, a string of spit still keep you connected to Lando's mouth as you slid his cock between your boobs, squeezing them together to give him the friction he craved.

You were about to take him into your mouth again but before you knew it he was manhandling you to flip over onto all fours and slamming himself into your cunt.

You held onto the headboard tightly as Lando repeatedly hurled himself into and out of you, fingers digging holes on you hips just with how hard and rough he was being.

''Love that dirty little mouth of yours but fuck, needed to feel you again he whispered, pulling your body up to let your back rest against his front, his hand snaking around your throat, applying a bit of pressure.

You moaned at the contact, walls clenching tighter around him at the thought of Lando using you as he pleased.

''Gonna let me cum in you again yeah?'' he asked, spit flying out his mouth as he spoke through gritted teeth.

''Hmm;'' you responded, brain short circuiting at his words.

''Need you to cum first baby, then im all yours'' he said, the hand on your throat making its way down to your clit, pinching at it harshly.

Then your body was shaking, jelly, as your orgasm washed over you, making your limbs fumble while Lando held you up, your juices leaking out of you and down your thighs.

And with just one look at his dick covered in you again, Lando was sent over the edge, twitching uncontrollably with each thrust before spilling inside of you, hot and sticky, with pornographic moans leaving his body.

You both collapsed back onto the bed, Lando slipping out of you the process as you cuddled to his side, bodies sticky and shivering until Lando looked at you, eyes dark.

''Think I need more assessment days if this is the outcome..'' he said, kissing you feverishly with intent.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, anal, suggestiveness & pressuring

fem reader

Thinking about really boyfriendly boyfriends – simpy and helpful and sweet – boyfriend material perfectly cut as if custom-ordered – boxed and shipped and sent express mail from the boyfriend factory with love.

He’s interested in your hobbies and studies and is equally passionate about sharing his interests with you. He’s comfortable and playful with your family and makes a true effort to befriend your friends. He’s even outgoing at parties where he doesn’t know anyone but you instead of sulking and asking you to leave like so many past boyfriends have.

He likes sharing food, sings loudly in the car, texts you throughout the day, and calls you when he’s at the store before coming over, asking if you need or want anything. He’s open and honest and geeks over new releases – that movie trailer, that game, those sneakers, that album, that car, and all that other boy stuff – and yet never fails to tell you how beautiful you are every time he sees you.

And he likes taking you on dates – cinema, arcade, roller rink, amusement park, road trips, picnics, beach days – or simply hanging out at his or your place – making food, binging a series in bed, kissing and dry-humping…

He’s just, all in all, everything you could’ve ever wished for. Perfect in every way.

Only… there hasn’t been a single time he’s had you in bed where he hasn’t all but begged to fuck your ass…

He’s literally crying for it while moaning, “Please~ lemme put it in~ just wanna try it once, please, baby~” with his hands squeezing your butt over your shorts and his head under your shirt, kissing and sucking your tits with the prayers on his lips as he humps his tented crotch against your clothed cunt – making your panties hot and damp. 

You squeeze your eyes shut with a suppressed whine.

He keeps pleading, “I’ll be gentle~ just the tip~ I’ll go so slow~”

His fingers dig into the crevice of your cheeks, wedging your shorts and undies through your slit. Everything clenches from the friction.

Your face is heated, biting your lip with cinched brows. You knew he’d ask for it again today – he never doesn’t. Even though he’ll get pussy-drunk and pound your poor womb in a tight mating press the second he’s made you cum on his fingers. 

He slurps your nipple, still begging, “Please, baby, please~ it’ll feel so good~ so-so-so good~”

You’d been deliberating giving in to his incessant proposals for a little while. He’d been so unrelenting you were starting to feel bad denying him for so long.

Not like past boyfriends hadn’t been equally relentless in the ask.

But this one was different… unlike the others… you really like him. 

You think you might be in love with him, even though it’s a little early to say.

Still… since he’s so perfect… you want to do your best to be perfect for him, too.

So you’d made yourself ready for it this time – done preparations in the shower. 

But… you pout… it was all so embarrassing, and your poor mind was riddled with doubts as though you were a virgin all over again. 

What if something… gross happens? What if it hurts so bad you have to stop? Will it disappoint him? What if you hate it but go through with it anyway, only for him to keep asking? What if you have to break up because you won’t ever be able to look him in the eyes again?

“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” His voice slips through the inner turmoil.

He’d resurfaced from beneath your shirt on account of your silence, only to see you’d covered your face in both hands. He gently peels them away – revealing your eyes and the shy way you nibble your lip.

“I’m sorry…” He apologizes then. “I’ll stop asking-” 

“No!” You blurt. To his surprise – staring at you with those big puppy-dog eyes you just couldn’t handle seeing look so disheartened. “I mean…” 

You look away, cheeks burning – voice just barely above a whisper. 

“If you really want to… I’m fine with it…”

He seemed to perk up at that. If he’d had a tail, you know it would be wagging behind him. 

His chest swelled, eyes big and unblinking, swallowing thickly – breaths already thick with containment. 

He leans in close and nose-kisses you, brushing your lips with heated words, “Really? You’ll let me?”

You made a small sound, too humiliated to say or do much more than nod your head in confirmation.

He seemed to shudder, closing the space between you, kissing your lips softly – he tasted like static – buzzing with restricted urgency. Parting with a soft-spoken yet strained, “Thank you.”

Both his hands messaged your waist – fiddled with the band to your shorts as though he couldn’t wait to drag them down your thighs and free you.

Still speaking against your lips, “Can you turn around on your knees for me?”

Everything was burning – from the tips of your ears to your lips and deep down in your stomach where something equally hungry and anxious was preparing for something.

He moved back to allow you to crawl into position, taking a pillow and placing it underneath you – patting it while telling you to “Lie down.” 

You did like suggested, lying with your face and chest against the soft plume, sinking into it with your back in a slope and your ass presented. Heart pounding in your head, loud and hot, as he took position behind you – placing his hand back on your hips.

He hooked his fingers into the band of your shorts again, pulling them back over the fat of your haunches, then dragged them down slowly until they pooled around your knees. You felt the damp heat of his breath immediately hit the peach fuzz on the small of your back – seeping through the cotton of your panties – making your belly brew with butterflies. 

“Just relax, okay? Tell me to stop if I go too far.” He said, sensing how you quaked as he placed both palms on your globes – denting the plump flesh with greedy fingers.

It’s not like you haven’t fucked in this position before – it’s just that you knew this time was going to be different. You felt so exposed.

He fingered the frill of your panties and started peeling them off – baring your naked skin and the pretty dip between your cheeks. 

You yelped. His mouth was on you before he’d even finished undressing you – placing a sloppy half-bite half-kiss on your upper ass before proceeding to slurp the crack.

You whimpered – flustered and flushed as the heat of his tongue laid wet trails down through the valley until his lips met with your rim. You shuffled your thighs and balled the pillow in small fists as he groaned into you. Shamelessly squeezing your fat with his hands, spreading the cheeks to let him at your little puckered hole.

Your eyes screwed shut while you hid your face in the pillow beneath you – muffling all uneasy sounds as he canted his mouth against your ass. Chin rutting into your puffy cunt while bobbing his jaw, lipping at your taint and rim – nose nuzzled between your cheeks – mouth fully closed around you – moaning at the feel of it pulsing on the tip of his tongue as he runs it over the tight scrunch again and again.

Your shoulders brace as he tries and screw the wet muscle inside. You tense up way too tight for it to happen.

He smacks off with a raunchy sigh. Your heart is in your throat. 

Slick from your ignored cunt feels sticky on your swelled pussy-lips – hot and twitching in the cool air.

He pops the cap of the little bottle of lube the two of you always keep on hand. You flinch when his slick fingers come back to rub your hole. He gives it slow and soothing circles before easing the tip inside. Filling you up only to the first joint, waiting for you to relax and loosen before sinking the rest inside. 

He hums at the display, groaning, “Fuuh-ck~” Sliding the digit in knuckle-deep before slipping it out to the tip again – repeating the motion while feeling your muscles ripple around it. “You’re so cute, baby~ so pretty~”

He bows and places a chaste kiss on your buttcheek, laying his face on it like a pillow – his eyes half-mast while looking at his finger disappear inside you.

He works another in with the first, shuffling them – messaging the tightness, slowly training it to stretch. His hot breath fans over your wet skin, making you go goosefleshed.

“Fuck, baby – so pretty with my fingers inside yah~” He hums, almost in a whine while curling them inside you. “So fucking hot how you swallow and squeeze on ‘em like that~”

He pulls himself up again, tugging on his belt with one hand – keeping on fingering you with the other. 

His pants drop to the floor a moment later, and he lifts his neglected cock out of the sticky mess he’d made in his boxers – throbbingly fat and hard, pulsing in his fist and leaking pre, another pearl each time he rubs over the bulge of his tip.

He looks at your hole – eyes misty. You seem to have loosened up a bit – enough for him to part his fingers.

He pulls them both out with a schlick. “I think you’re ready…” His voice is sticky – stuck to his throat. “I’m gonna try ‘n put it in.”

Your hands curl into the pillow as you nod your head – eyes still squeezed shut. It hadn't felt too bad so far – just weird. Embarrassing and… clinical. A bit like a doctor’s visit. But you knew that would all change now.

His hands glide across your back, catching your crop top in balled fists, stretching it as his tip works on stretching out your opening – nudging against it, coaxing it into accepting the head.

“Fuh- oh fuck~” He moans, lost to the sight and feel of your butt seizing around him – closing up around his tip. 

You look so fucking perfect like that – face-down and kneeling with your ass pressed back against him – giving him your second virginity. 

His eyes flitter across the slope of your spine – looking over your creamy skin, looking so pretty, all glossy with dew, until he reaches your face. Your brows are pinched together, gnawing on your bottom lip, eyes shut tightly.

“Are you okay?” He pants.

You nod your head – curt and rushed.

He suppresses a sound – feeling even more heated. You’re so perfect, so good to him – the best girlfriend he could have ever asked for. Trusting him like this, letting him do this even when you’re so nervous about it. You must really love him.

He’s nearly crying, holding onto your hips as he fucks you with just the tip – loosening the rim up and going just a little deeper for every shallow thrust. He nearly barrels over, standing there with his back hunched – bowing his head, looking at where the two of you connect while sweat drips from his weighted bangs.

“I love you, too.” He confesses out of the blue, and you blink, looking back at him – seeing his mouth parted with blissful moans, his eyes wet, and brows softly curled. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect fo’me – so good.” 

He loves you so much he can barely take the blossoming in his chest, feeling like he wants to eat you up and swallow you whole. His girl – who laughs at all his silly jokes and holds his hand everywhere you go and doesn’t tease him when he yelps and holds you close during horror movies. His perfect perky girlfriend – who lets him fuck you raw and cum inside, and now… even letting him fuck your tight round ass for the very first time.

He's almost all the way in now – just a few more thrusts, and you’ll have him swallowed down to the base with his balls pressed firmly against the puffy lips of your wet pussy.

“Fuh-uuck-” He breathes out again, gripping your hips tight as he bottoms out. 

He nearly cums right then, having to bite his lip to hold back – savoring how you ripple and squeeze him – so tight and firm.

You’re such a good girl taking him so well and so deep, lying so sweetly beneath him with your ass presented – letting him nestle his entire length inside you. Curling your toes all cutely as you adjust with only pretty girly mews leaving you.

You didn’t expect him to mount you. 

But he does. Now standing with his feet in the bed, squatting over you with his cock sinking balls deep in your ass. Freshly broken-in, it’s tight and firm and twitchy as though it’s confused as to why there's a big fat cock stretching it out. 

He can’t help but smile, perched on top of you – hands still hooked upon your hips for balance while he leans forward, settling even deeper. 

You moan, and it nearly drives him wild. Barely holding himself together as he pulls out – wishing he had something to bite into instead of his lip as he focuses on the way your firm walls clench on him, clinging to his shaft so tightly it’s hard pulling out despite the wetness – it’s so good he’s losing it. 

He’s taking his perfect girlfriend in her perfect ass. And it feels so fucking good his hands leave their grip on your hips as he slugs forward, bending over you until his chest presses into your back, and his head rests on top of yours, cheek to cheek – slinging both arms around you, putting you in a headlock – leaving you to do nothing else but pant, squished between his biceps and his cock kisses your guts. 

“Can’t believe I'm fucking your little ass, baby.” He rants breathlessly. “It's so tight and good, gripping me so fuckin’ hard.” Huffing and groaning with his back hunched as he curves into your butt as deep as he can – stuffing into you from behind slowly and carefully as though he’s savoring every single flutter of you hugging him.

He’s barely even pulling out – kneading as far as his cock can reach instead – cock-warming himself inside you.

“Fuck, baby – I can cum inside, right?” He whimpers against you, kissing the corner of your mouth with his tongue out.

You’re so squished beneath him you can only just wheeze out the word. “O-okay-”

“Oh- fuck, I love you.” He cries when he blows, squeezing you so tight you’re choking as he pumps pulse after pulse of thick hot cum deep inside you. “I love you, I love you- love you- love you so much- so fuckin’ much-”

And you don’t know if it’s the confession, the headlock, or the cum being pumped up your guts – but your clit’s pulsing and your cunt’s twitching even though it’s around nothing, gushing down your shaking thighs as your butt pushes itself flush against your boyfriend’s cock, clenching hard around it and milking him free of every drop.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Touya-Dabi, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo, Yuji, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins ♡ AOT – Armin ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Sakura, Nirei, Umemiya

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Revised version available here:

[ktownshizzle]

Pigments & Playlists [Final] | myg

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Between makeup and music, you find the one person worth blurring the lines for. ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluffy coworkers to lovers, idol au, older woman (by a few years), smut ✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, Undercut Yoongi!!, MC-noona is the embodiment of “independent check, got her own check”, office shenanigans as always, exhibitionist kink, fingering, edging, very minor pain kink, use of a blindfold, power play (im new to writing this so pls forgive any errors), unprotected p in v, idk tell me if i missed any of it, unfair/sexist HR practices, insinuation of self-harm (assumed wrongly), MC hatin’ on HYBE, happy ending woohoo ✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 9k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: June 21, 2025 ✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Yoongi’s discharge today. So proud of you, baby! 💜 Thank you so much @tea4sykes for your brilliant ideas, betareading, and basically keeping me motivated in writing this! Love yew! ✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes 2: Hope you guys enjoy reading this~ Made it a personal goal to publish today, because I didn't know how June 21 was gonna go for us, but I was sure it was going to be emotional. Consider this a gift from me to you. However you may be feeling today, I hope this makes you smile.

[Full taglist to follow in rbs.]

Part One | Yoongi Masterlist

So Yoongi disappeared after he did that. Frankly, how dare he?!

Way too many thoughts swirling in your head while you lay awake and there is no way you’ll be able to sleep.

Your arm flies across the bed as your hand pulls your nightstand drawer and fumbles inside for the one thing you need to help yourself relax…

Nah. Not the rabbit.

Tiger Balm.

You dab a bit on your temples and the tip of your nose and inhale deeply, letting the menthol work its magic. Yup. That’s the stuff.

Unfortunately, you’ve been staring at the ceiling for an hour, heart thudding like something’s wrong. Except nothing’s wrong. You kissed. That’s all.

You kissed and now you’re thinking about it way too much. Not because it was bad. Because it was… something.

And because the more you think about it, the more it’s starting to scare you how much you need it to happen again.

You sigh. Rub at the menthol on your nose, frustrated it didn’t thwart your torturous thoughts.

And then you do the logical thing. You call.

It rings once. Twice.

“...Noona?”

His voice is low, a little scratchy. Not groggy, just sleep-warm.

You swallow. “Sorry. I know it’s late.”

“Nah it’s fine,” he says. “You okay?”

You hesitate. “Kind of.”

There’s a pause. He doesn’t fill it. Just waits.

You exhale, quiet. “Remember when you said I could call you if I couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“This isn’t about my ex though,” you say.

“Okay.”

“It’s about you.”

That makes him hum. You hear the faint rustle of his sheets, like he’s sitting up.

“Me?”

“Own up to what you did.”

Faint chuckles crackle through your phone and you can almost imagine how he looks. Eyes like the moon, shoulders bobbing, grin smug as shit.

“What did I do?”

You groan, tack his name at the end of it.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he says after a beat. “Is that a problem?”

“I don’t know yet,” you reply. “It makes me anxious.”

He hums softly. “Because?”

“Because I liked it,” you say. “And I kinda hate how much I’m thinking about it. And you’re probably chill.”

There’s a long silence.

Then he says, calm and careful: “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Thought you don’t date coworkers.”

“And then there’s you.”

You let out a huff—relieved, breathy, kinda giddy. “That’s… okay.”

“Yeah.” 

You sit up in bed, pulling your knees in.

“I was gonna wait,” you admit. “To see if you’d make the next move. But then I figured that’s dumb. I’m not a teenager.”

“No. You’re definitely not.”

“You don’t mind it?”

“Mind what?”

“That I’m older?” You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see.

“Noona,” he breathes. “I’m not really someone who cares about things like that. At the end of the day aren’t we all just human beings trying to find a connection?”

God this man. Your mouth moves before you can think about it any more. “If you’re not too busy… you wanna come over sometime?”

There’s a pause. Just enough to make your stomach flip.

 “Noona,” he says, teasing, “are you asking me on a…”

“Yes, Yoongi,” you cut in. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

He laughs. Really laughs. Low and bright and warm through the speaker. You want to bottle that sound.

“Technically, I did ask first,” he says. “But yeah. I’ll come over.”

You kick your feet under the duvet before replying, “Okay.”

You talk more.

About nothing. About music. About how Namjoon’s on his ass about a song. About how he’s been working out. You tease him mercilessly about how he just casually dropped the last part.

At some point, the sky turns blue.

When you finally hang up, your body feels softer, a little less anxious. And when you fall asleep, it’s his cute throaty laugh still echoing in your head.

“Yoongi, will you please stop making that face? I’m trying to even out your eyeliner,” you scold, trying not to laugh.

Yoongi, the piece of shit, still keeps at his :] while you skim a q-tip along the outer corner of his eye.

“Yoongi-hyung, why are you acting cutely?” Hobi asks from the next chair. “Are we even filming right now?”

A flush creeps up Yoongi’s cheeks as he responds, mock indignant, “What? This is my face. Not my fault I was born cute.”

You meet Hobi’s eyes in the mirror. Then, he winks. You immediately look away, vaguely mortified.

Wait—does everybody know?

Trying to recover, you boop your powder puff on Yoongi’s nose, sending a cloud of setting powder into the air. “Quit it.”

He coughs once, laughing as the puff drops to his lap. Okay shit, good thing he is wearing khaki slacks and not black pants. But finally, he relaxes.

“Noona, you have a Rejuran appointment later,” Jimin chimes in.

Your head snaps up. “What? How did you…?”

Jimin grins from across the room, eyes glued to your phone screen where it’s charging in one of the other stations. Your sockets were full, so you left it there earlier and a calendar alert must’ve popped up.

“You’re so nosy, Jimin.”

“What’s Rejuran?” Hobi asks, peering over with mild curiosity. “I’ve heard that somewhere.”

“It’s just a kind of facial,” you say breezily, catching Hyein’s knowing glance as she smooths Hobi’s hair with her Dyson. These boys don’t need to know your anti-aging secrets.

“They inject salmon sperm into noona’s face,” Jimin announces with a totally straight face, mischief glinting in his eyes.

“Salmon what?!” Yoongi blurts, snapping his head up to look at you. Hobi recoils with a horrified grimace.

“Park Jimin, when I catch you—!”

Jimin squeals and ducks behind a rack of stage outfits as you toss a blending sponge in his direction, trying not to laugh yourself.

The commotion dies down, and you go back to packing up your powders, muttering under your breath, “It’s not even that weird. Just some polynucleotides. Helps stimulate collagen. Keeps the wrinkles at bay.”

Hobi raises a brow. “I don’t see wrinkles, noona.”

“Exactly.” Now it’s you who sends him a wink back.

Yoongi lets out a low chuckle. You glance at him and catch him typing something into his Notes app. Thankfully everyone goes back to their own damn business.

A second later, Yoongi tilts the screen toward you just enough for you to read it: Friday night?

Your hand holding a brush freezes for half a second over his cheek.

He’s already looking away like he didn’t just casually drop that invite.

“Okay,” you mumble softly under your breath.

The lilt of his lips tells you he heard it anyway.

The door buzzes. You’ve been so chill all day. Still chill. You're chill. (No, you’re not.) You rush to open the door before you make him wait too long.

Yoongi looks… casual. Just a black sweater layered over a gray tee, soft black pants. Hair tucked neatly under a beanie. He looks like your neighborhood ahjussi.

“Noona,” he says, voice muffled behind a white face mask.

“Wow. You’re on time.”

“I try to impress on the first date.”

You try not to smile too big, but fail.

He takes his mask off and hands you a small paper bag. “Dessert.”

You peek inside. Cream puffs from that place in Sinsa-dong that always sells out by 3 PM. “Did you have to bribe someone for these?”

“I have my ways.”

Dinner is simple, something you can make with your eyes closed. Miso salmon, cilantro lime rice, and a cucumber salad. You make this at least twice a month. You could’ve cooked steak or some grilled chops, something that gave a more date-night vibe, but you wanted to make the menu fool-proof.

You eat at the kitchen counter with his insistence, saying you didn’t need to set the dining table all fancy. (“It’s just me.”) So you sit close together on your bar stools, knees almost brushing. He clears his plate like it’s the best thing he’s eaten. You beam.

“Noona, this is really good,” he says, tapping a napkin against his mouth.

You smirk. “Better than Jungkook’s?”

He slides an arm on the backrest of your chair. “Are you as competitive as the maknae?”

“I’m just playing.” You chuckle. “I know mine’s better.”

He smiles, watching you quietly but intently as you sip your wine.

“What?” you ask, his stare is warming the side of your face.

“Just... haven’t done this in a while.”

“Eaten?”

“No.” He tuts, picks up his wine glass and sips before explaining, “Sat with someone like this. Them cooking for me. In their home. Talking.”

Your stomach dips. Not from nerves this time. From the way he admits it. Simple. Open.

You shrug, keeping it light. “Well. You’ve still got it.”

“Got what?”

“You know… the kids call it rizz.”

He laughs heartily, and you feel his fingers curling against your arm. “Was worried I might’ve lost my… rizz.” He overenunciates the last word, his lisp decorating the edge of the sound.

You raise your brow, not buying it. “Liar.”

He bites his lower lip and shakes his head at you. Your eyes track the way his pretty teeth sink against the pink plush and ugh. Again with this rizz.

After dishes are rinsed and placed in the dishwasher and dessert’s split between bites and laughter, the two of you end up on the couch. His arm stretched along the backrest yet again, just shy of your shoulder. Your head tilted toward his, but not touching, even if you wanted to.

There’s some Netflix movie playing in the background, purely for vibes. Neither of you are really watching. You talk about work. Gossip a bit. He asks about that corner shelf in your living room, the one with the knick knacks. You tell him stories about your travels, touring with Seventeen. He says you have the same lucky cat figurine from Hong Kong.

You try not to let his voice get under your skin. It’s different hearing his warm, caramelly tone when you’re not otherwise occupied with evening out his contour or with the buzz of a hair dryer in the background. It’s criminal how smooth it is when it’s all you need to focus on, even more so when he’s being earnest.

He glances at your hand resting on his thigh. (How did it get there???) Then up at your face. You nod before your brain realizes that he in fact did not ask a question.

But then he leans in and all thoughts fly out the window. His lips taste like vanilla cream and maybe the wine you shared earlier. It’s sweet. Even better than the first one because you’re ready for it.

You shift closer, hands finding their way to the hem of his sweater, thumbs brushing warm skin underneath. His breath catches a little. And then his fingers are trailing up your arm, until they settle gently on your jaw. His thumb presses against your cheek, coaxing your mouth open so he can press his tongue against yours. You feel dizzy with want.

His hands stay respectful, never wandering too far. Just the faint brush against the back of your neck, the side of your thigh. But every press of his calloused fingers leaves a quiet, contained fire in its wake. You need more.

You move closer, straddling his lap, never breaking contact with his mouth. He kisses you deeper, sloppier when your weight settles against him. His tongue licks into your mouth expertly and you welcome it. It teases you long enough to make you wonder how it might feel in other places, too. 

Like butter, you're melting, unraveling as his hands find more courage—one sliding up, pausing at your ribs, then higher to cup your tits. He groans into your mouth and it nearly ruins you. You roll your hips forward, barely a grind, just enough to feel him straining between you. Just enough to hear him groan again. 

You make out for what feels like an eternity. But you think you’re both on the same page, when your mouths move a little slower, softer. Air starts to seep between your lips as you retreat. You’re somewhere between wanting more and knowing it’s not time. Not yet. But god, it’s close.

Eventually, he leans his forehead against your shoulder, both of you breathless–maybe a little embarrassed.

“I should probably go,” he murmurs, even as he hugs you tighter at the waist.

“Probably,” you sigh, his undercut grazing your neck and igniting a dull, sweet tickle.

You stay like that for a moment, sharing the soft beat of your hearts as they slow back to normal.

He finally rises, slipping back into his white sneakers as you walk him to the door.

“Thanks for dinner,” he says, lingering by the frame.

“Thanks for coming,” you reply, fingers tightening on the knob as you hold it open.

“Next time, my place?”

“Already booking that second date?”

He pulls his mask on, but not before you catch the shy grin he tries to hide.

“I’ll bring dessert,” you offer.

“Just bring yourself. “ he says, gaze flicking down your body, before settling back on your eyes.

Oh. You are the dessert.

And this time, when the door clicks shut behind him, your heart isn’t racing from confusion. It’s welcoming the slow bloom of potential.

You: Thank you for dropping off coffee and donuts for the team Yoongi: 👌

Yoongi: finished it one sitting You: what? You: i got you 10 pcs 🍊 Yoongi: and? You: you dont get acidic? Yoongi: it’s my favorite!! You: i noticed

Yoongi: [spotify playlist link] You: hey dj suga Yoongi: thought you might like You: listened to it on the drive home Yoongi: favorite track? You: musiq soulchild - just friends Yoongi: me too

It’s not like there was a talk. No formal check-in or DTR. But somehow, as the weeks pass, the rhythm between you and Yoongi settles into something steady. There’s no pressure. No constant push for reassurance. No need to define what already feels known.

You see him constantly at work—during rehearsals, music shows, brand shoots. He’s not overly affectionate, that’s just not him. But there are moments. The way his fingers graze yours when no one’s looking. The way his eyes seek you out as soon as he walks in. The way he’ll shift his chair an inch closer when you’re touching up his base, so your knees knock just enough.

He really makes this whole thing feel easy. Comfortable in a way that still thrills you. Because what can be more thrilling at this point in your life than to finally meet somebody that makes you feel vibrant.

What surprises you most is how little insecurity you feel. You’ve seen how people look at him—the other makeup artists, stylists, managers, external clients. There’s something magnetic about him that draws attention without trying. You’ve clocked it. But Yoongi has a way of making sure you never wonder.

It’s in the way he says your name. How his eyes soften when he talks to you. How he remembers the little things. The tea you like. The one concealer you always complain about running out of. Sometimes you find a sticky note in your kit. Or a box of snacks with your name scribbled on it. Just things that say: I see you. You’re on my mind.

And then there are the others. The rest of Bangtan.

It’s a choreography video shoot day, which always means chaos. Full glam’s not required since most shots are wide, so it’s just you and Hwapyeong handling light touch-ups.

You’re finishing Yoongi’s concealer when Jungkook suddenly rests his chin on your shoulder. “Noona, if I promise to sit still, can I go next?”

Before you can answer, Jimin appears behind him. “She’s doing me next. I called dibs.”

“Not how dibs works,” Jungkook pulls back his arm for a mock-punch and Jimin clutches his heart, rattling off a litany of how Jungkook wounds him.

“Hajimaaa,” Yoongi gives them all a staredown. 

But then from across the room, Taehyung yells, “Noona, help! My concealer’s making me look gray!”

“AISH!” Yoongi snarls with his non-existent fangs. It’s not even menacing. You know now that his canines are blunt. But he tries, so you giggle.

Jin comes to your rescue. “Why are all of you crowding her? You never even get your faces done for choreo. Fuck off,” Then, sweetly, “Hi noona, just a dab of lip balm, please.”

“HYUNG!” Jungkook giggles as he shoves his elder playfully away from you and they continue to horseplay elsewhere.

Yoongi turns slowly to Jimin and Taehyung, unimpressed. “Why are you still here?”

“Because she’s nice to us,” Jimin says, fluttering his lashes at you with zero shame.

“Because we love her more than you do,” Taehyung declares with a shit-eating grin.

That gets Yoongi to raise a brow.

“Okay, enough,” you laugh, pointing your brush like a weapon. “If you want me to do all your faces, line up like kindergarteners and bring me coffee.”

“Done,” Taehyung shoots up immediately.

When they disperse to bother other members of the staff, you catch Yoongi watching you through the mirror.

“I think…” you murmur as you smooth out the edge of his eye shadow, “I just got myself a new set of boys.”

He doesn’t say anything, but the way his smile lingers tells you everything.

When he stands up to finally let one of the maknaes take his spot, he whispers, “For the record, I called dibs.” Then pinches your hip slightly.

You’re still grinning when Jimin plops into the chair and narrows his eyes at you. Eye-smiling. Suspicious. Rightly so.

You: check your studio door Yoongi: ? Yoongi: why Yoongi: what did you do You: just do it

(three minutes later)

Yoongi: you cooked? You: 👩‍🍳 Yoongi: you even packed utensils?? You: i’m considerate Yoongi: shit you the best You: i know you’re busy but now you don’t have an excuse Yoongi: you tryna wife me up huh? You: idiot Yoongi: cmere eat with me You: i have a thing You: meeting a makeup artist friend who started her own salon Yoongi: thats nice Yoongi: but next time come in You: k Yoongi: 134340 You: ? Yoongi: door code You: guarding it with my life

(fifteen minutes later)

Yoongi: (photo attached: empty bento box)

Curious how time has passed and with frequency and proximity, you discover new things about Yoongi. Things that only came with time. Things you wouldn’t catch if you weren’t paying attention. Things you couldn’t have known before.

There are lines you never noticed until you were tracing them at rest. Creases that only surface when he’s thinking too hard, or biting back a smile. Dimples, not on the smile lines, but on his chin, when he’s bored. And then there’s the slightest double chin when he’s slumped and snoozing when schedules get rough. It’s your job to know his face, to fill the lines. There are times you touch him a little longer, not for anything but comfort and maybe your greed. He lets you.

Lips, sweeter than any cherry balm you could ever swipe. But far more frequently chapped than you like so you’ve started packing bottled water inside your kit, making him sip while you let lip mask seep between the patches of dry skin. His lips have become your favorite. Sometimes it splits when he does that shriek he often pulls to make others laugh but then it also presses against your shoulder when he’s too tired to kiss you properly. Sometimes they murmur your name like it’s a sexy secret, and you wonder how you lived before hearing it said like that. 

There’s also his eyes. Small, but somehow holds a significant power. He has a habit of narrowing them, but now you can tell why, when he’s suspicious, or teasing or just tired, or forgot his glasses. You don’t need him to speak. Sometimes the way he looks at you says more than full conversations ever could.

His default expressions are even more cat-like up close. On default :< When he’s playful :] But your favorite is the :3. You always make sure his features stay sharp, complimenting his felinesque features. You pull his liner outward, shade his jaw, angle his brow. Lil Meow Meow, apparently he is called. And what ARMY wants, ARMY gets.

His hair is finer than it looks. Silky in a way that slips easily between your fingers when you card through it absentmindedly, especially when he’s resting his head in your lap. The strands at his nape get extra soft after he showers, curling ever so slightly where they brush against his undercut. He likes when you play with it, especially the buzzed edges, more than he lets on. You figured that out the first time you tugged a little harder and heard the way his breath caught, low in his throat. Now it’s something he leans into, shameless. One tug and suddenly he’s pliant, open.

He smells like tangerines. Rarely does he not have it in his pocket. But also, there’s this perfume he wears. It clings. Intoxicating and addicting, and you wonder if it’s just you who’s not immune. It lives in your hair, your pillow, your skin. You catch yourself breathing deeper when you catch it, like your body recognizes what’s safe faster than your mind can.

You no longer think about what you used to think of him. When he only said four words, and always closed his eyes.

Finally, you know Min Yoongi. Not the pixels, but the person.

You know him now in the noise and chaos of backstage, from watching him when you have your kit open and he’s on his chair waiting to be groomed. 

But you’ve come to know him more in the quietest hours, too. When he wakes beside you in his California king, face bathed in the kind of morning light no makeup could ever imitate. When he opens his eyes, and leans into your space like he always does, all soft and sleepy and sexy.

There’s no need to polish him here. Because this is him at his most perfect in your eyes. When you can just reach for him. 

Not because he’s Min Yoongi, the idol. 

He’s Min Yoongi, yours. Even without the labels, yet.

You: yoongi. Yoongi: ? You: we almost got caught in the fucking meeting room 😭 Yoongi: that was close. You: close??? do you know what would’ve happened if someone saw? Yoongi: i’d probably get a raise You: ddaeng i’d get fired Yoongi: we’re fine You: you are not serious Yoongi: you kissed me You: you pulled me in Yoongi: yeah and? You: AND?? Yoongi: should’ve locked the door You: Yoongi 😩 Yoongi: you wanted it You: i did NOT Yoongi: your hand was where? You: BYE

You (photo attached: wine glass, bare legs, tv in background): guess what i’m watching Yoongi: don’t care Yoongi: all i see is leg You: rude Yoongi: wear a skirt tomorrow You: so direct Yoongi: thought we’re not teenagers You: thought you said you’d behave Yoongi: sure 😃

Another day in the glam room, another TikTok dance challenge Yoongi somehow said yes to. This time with members of TXT. He’s really never beating the allegations of rizzing up his juniors.

He’s already styled when he walks in. And looking at what he’s wearing... Honestly? He’s wearing you the fuck out. And it’s barely noon.

White tank under a greige short-sleeved shirt, pretty, purple embroidered butterflies sitting on either side of his chest. But it’s the jeans—loose, shredded clean through the knees—that have you scandalized like a Victorian maiden seeing skin for the first time.

“Good morning,” you greet.

He hums, eyes you up and down shamelessly and you know the conversation last night is about to resume in the flesh.

“Hey,” he takes his spot on the chair.

“Looking forward to today?” You ask, turning to pluck a brush and pot from your kit.

“You can say that…”

As you face him, he parts his legs, glancing down at the freshly cleared spot on the floor, then looks back up at you. Waits.

You sigh, already knowing what it is. An unspoken invitation to take your place between his knees. To get closer. So you do.

“This what you wanted?” you ask, feigning indifference, as you swirl the spoolie through your brow gel, wiping off the excess on the rim.

“Not exactly,” he says, smirking, knees closing in on the side of your hips. “But close.”

You start brushing his brows up, grooming them into a perfect arch when you feel it. His fingers, slow and sneaky, sliding up your skirt, skimming the soft skin of your inner thigh. 

You look him dead in the eyes.

He winks.

“Yoongi…” you tsk, moving to brush up his other brow.

“Noona…” he shifts forward, tongue peaking on the side of his mouth, which you try try try to ignore.

“Somebody might see,” you mumble. 

“Let them.”

“Such a little shit.”

“You love it.” You freeze when you feel his fingers hook your panties to the side and when he discovers that you’re more excited than you let on, “Oooh. You really do.”

Mortified, is what you are. Soaked from anticipation and some light, slight petting. How dare your body betray you like this?!

“I like your skirt,” he murmurs. The hand that isn’t currently violating you taps the floofy fabric like it’s innocent. As if the other one isn’t busy toying with your cunt.

Dignity hanging by a thread, you grit, “Didn’t wear it for you.”

A bold-faced lie. He knows it, too. “Sure you didn’t,” he chuckles.

His index swipes your folds, lazy, teasing strokes that get deeper with every pass, never quite reaching the one spot you need him to.

“But aren’t you glad you did?” At that exact moment, he flicks your puffy clit, circling it like he’s known exactly where it was all along.

“Fuck,” you gasp, pitching forward, hands gripping his knees just to stay upright.

The pot and brush drops to the floor and rolls into oblivion. Much like your sanity.

He hisses through his teeth as he eases his middle finger inside you, walls fluttering at the sudden intrusion.

“So wet for me, baby,” he grins, lower lip caged between his pretty teeth in his pretty mouth. It’s devastating. He’s devastating. And the way he’s watching you fall apart while knuckles-deep, pumping steadily in and out of your dripping pussy only makes it worse. Or better. Definitely worse. But shit, it feels so good.

“Yoongi… shit…” you breathe, forehead falling into the crook of his neck as your knees threaten to give out. Your palms, slick with sweat, slide beneath the frayed denim of his jeans, desperate for more skin, more heat, more of him. Fingertips dig into his thigh, surely to leave little crescent moons in his flesh. He groans, but doesn’t stop. If anything, he moves with maddening precision, adding just enough pressure to make you whimper. You moan, high and sharp, the sound slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

“Feel good?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wanna cum?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do it,” he licks the shell of your ear. “I got you, baby.”

That fuckin’ does it. 

You come with a soft gasp, body jerking slightly as heat rushes through you in quiet waves. It’s not loud, not messy, but it rocks you all the same—your breath hitching, muscles clenching, forehead buried in his neck to muffle the sound.

“Shit…” you breathe, blinking as the aftershocks melt through your limbs.

He pulls his fingers out slow and slick, and you wince at the emptiness he leaves behind. 

Your mouth falls open. “Yoongi.”

“I like seeing you like this,” he murmurs, nudging his nose against yours so you look up. “When you lose control.”

His lips meet yours, stirring more chaos in your mind. When you pull back, trying to reorient yourself, he leans in again.

“Yoongi… fuck, you need to behave, okay?” You mumble against his lips, nipping his plush lower lip before attempting to pull away.

“But noona,” he lifts himself up, bucking against you once just so you feel the hardness between his thighs. “You're making it hard….”

You’re about to give in, when the door creaks open.

You spring backward like your life depends on it, bumping your back against your kit and you suppress the dull pain across your spine. A familiar voice floats in, Hyein, asking if you saw Jimin.

“Nope,” you reply as you start fixing bottles and palettes randomly. You meet Yoongi’s eyes in the mirror and almost crash out when he brings his hand to his lips—without shame, without pause—and licks two fingers clean.

You nearly choke on air.

“Yoongi needs to be out in 5,” Hyein calls out and closes the door.

The company Thanksgiving dinner isn’t really optional, since you’re both employees. But after a magazine shoot, Yoongi lingers as you pack up and still asks if you want to go with him.

“Why do you say it like that,” you laugh. “Like you’re inviting me to prom.”

 “Well… I’m down if you wanna match…” He shrugs, leaning against the wall as he watches you zip up your Zuca.

That’s how you end up in all black—simple, classic, and just a little coordinated with his own sleek black button-down shirt and pants. Yoongi always finds a way to underdress the right way. You compliment him, but he downplays it saying, he just ‘wore an old shirt.’ Yeah, it's the same look from their Grammy performance, but he says it like it should somehow make him look a little less. Joke’s on him, your humble king.

The event is important, but low-pressure. Not quite a red carpet, but still enough eyes to notice when the two of you walk in together. Thankfully Namjoon and Jin are not too far behind with one of their female producers.

You keep a respectful distance, like the professionals you are. But people see. You know they do. A couple of glances. Some whispers. Nothing rude, just… curious. To your insistence and his disappointment, you have dinner with your glam team. Because wouldn’t it be strange if you’re seated with them? You don’t know if you’re ready for a soft launch.

But it sure seems he is. The way he looks at you like there’s no one else in the room. And it’s in the way he caters to you. Like while you’re walking toward the open bar, the strap of your heel suddenly slips loose. You pause, bending slightly to fix it, but Yoongi beats you to it.

He kneels (!!) right there on the marble floor, one hand steadying your ankle as he buckles the strap with steady fingers.

You panic, pulling him by the sleeve of his shirt. “No, you don’t have to—”

 “Let me,” he tells you as he so often does. Head down, thumb brushing the side of your foot, he fixes your shoe and suddenly you’re Cinder-fuckin’-ella in your own damn fairy tale.

Obviously, more than one pair of eyes are turning toward the scene. Cos the scene is not something you see everyday: Min Yoongi, rapper-producer-self-proclaimed bad boy, on his knees for this random girl, rugged hands wrapped delicately on her ankle. 

A couple of stylists from another team, wide-eyed. One of the project managers from digital looks like she might combust. 

Yoongi rises slowly and nods his head towards the bar. You follow him. And that’s that.

After the dinner, you end up at his place. Still dressed up, both of you nursing hot tea listening to a record he chose. Something low and jazzy filters through the room as you curl into his sofa.

“I usually don’t like company parties,” you murmur. “But it wasn’t that bad.”

“Didn’t think it would be,” he says. “I’m glad you came with me.”

He looks at you for a moment, asks, “You okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. I think so.”

You were always a good kid, so you never knew what it felt like to be summoned to the principal’s office. It’s probably something like this then. When two days after the company dinner, you were asked to go to HYBE’s HR department.

You’ve never met this woman before, but it’s clear she’s a higher-up. The tightest hair bun you’ve ever seen, cartoonishly wide cat-eye glasses, you already know she’s ripped at least one person a new asshole in the last five business days.

Not much preamble. When she started, oh, she really didn’t mince words and waste time. The way she looked at you spoke volumes of what she thought you had plotted.

“Miss Y/L/N, it has come to our attention that you have gotten involved with one of the members of BTS. As such, you can no longer be the lead makeup artist for the group effective immediately.”

“Due to our current headcount, we are unable to reassign you to another division.”

“Given the years of our professional relationship, we will still provide you with any recommendations you need should you choose to find employment in another company.”

“Your final pay will be sent to you within 30 business days. Please pack up your things and surrender your ID on your way out.”

Somehow, you are able to hold your head high, temper the storm in your chest, and nod as dignified as you can. “I understand. I’ll see myself out.”

You saw this shit coming. Sniffed it out from a mile away. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t sting. You spent more than a decade in this company, shaping and sharpening the creative vision for their two biggest acts, and they’ll let you go all because you decided to date a coworker.

Although they are clearly correct, you are involved with Yoongi, no clear evidence was even presented to you. Nothing was said to indicate that they were in touch with the member of BTS in question to get his side. Regardless, it was never gonna be a man’s fault. She thinks you probably seduced him and took advantage of your close working relationship. Ahh, this is so fucked up. 

“Noona…” a voice interrupts your thoughts.

Namjoon.

“Hey—are you…?”

You swipe a tear quickly from your cheek, but he already saw.

“What happened?”

You pull your cardigan tighter around your frame. Was there a point in lying about it? You sigh, “Got fired.”

“WHAT?” Namjoon’s voice echoes down the hall and your eyes widen like saucers.

He springs into action, stringing you like a marionette into every direction until then you end up in… his studio?

“The hell’s goin’ on?” 

You shrug, take a spot on the couch. “Not much to it, Namjoon. They fired me because they found out about me and Yoongi.”

It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged this to any member verbally. It feels oddly comforting to say it out loud.

“Does he know about this?”

“I haven’t told him.”

“Imma call him right now,” Namjoon fishes his phone from his pocket, but he knocks over something from the side table. It’s a half-full cup of coffee from god-knows-when. “Shit.”

You take some paper towels from his desk and help him soak the brown liquid from the carpet. It’s not really working. His paper towels are kinda thin. And the brown liquid is almost black at this point and it’s making you gag.

“You know what, shit,  let’s just leave that. We’ve got bigger problems…”

“It’s fine. I’m just gonna go.” You rise to your feet, smoothing your skirt down.

“Yoongi won’t allow this.”

“I know. But I did break the number 1 rule.”

“Let’s call him.”

“It’s ok, Namjoon-ah. I’m gonna pack up my stuff and go home. It’s a lot to process and I think I need to just… yeah. I’m gonna go home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you give him what you hope is a placating smile. “I just wish I got to say goodbye to everybody.”

“We’ll fix it,” he promises.

“No need,” you call over your shoulder. “Nothing’s broken.”

Bzzt… bzzt…

Your eyes crack open, a slow, confused blink. You’re warm, groggy, skin dry from sleep and mouth sticky from wine. The room’s dark except for the kitchen pin lights still on.

You glance at your clock: 11:02 p.m. it says.

The hell? There’s some heavy knocking going on now.

You pull yourself off the couch, legs slightly cramping, brain not quite awake. So out of it you don’t actually check the peephole before you pull the door wide open.

“Baby—what the fuck?!”

Yoongi’s voice hits first. Then his body—arms wrapping you up so tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll slip between his fingers. His coat’s cold but he smells like cedar and mint shampoo..

“I thought you—” he chokes out, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping the back of your sweatshirt. “You weren’t answering, I—fuck, I thought you—”

“I fell asleep,” you whisper, dazed, unsure how to hold all of this emotion spilling from him. “I’m sorry.”

His hands come up to your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone like he’s checking if you’re real. His eyes are wet. His breathing unsteady.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did,” you say. “You didn’t pick up. So I just… went home.”

He follows your gaze to the half-full wine glass on the coffee table. His jaw flexes.

“Had a few drinks and crashed,” you add, quietly.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He just exhales shakily and pulls you into his chest again, tighter this time. You press your face against his shirt, feel the way his heart is hammering through the fabric.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” you mumble.

He doesn’t answer that either. Just holds you there, arms wrapped around you like he needs to physically keep you in his orbit.

You pull back slightly. Look up. “Let me just wash my face real quick. Just sit, okay?”

He nods, wordless, and sinks into the couch like he’s been holding himself up all day.

You go to the bathroom, splash cold water on your cheeks. Brush your teeth. Run a brush through your hair. Change to a lounge set.

You can hear Yoongi’s voice outside. He’s on the phone with someone, and he just told them that you’re okay.

You stare at your reflection, pale and puffy-eyed. Yeah, you’re okay. The lines under your eyes are deeper than usual. But overall, you’re fine.

When you step back out, Yoongi’s sitting with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped like he’s praying. He lifts his eyes the moment you enter, teeth pulling at the skin of his lips.

You sit beside him on the couch, tuck your legs under you. Let your knee rest against his thigh.

“So I got fired…” you say softly, voice thin.

“Namjoon told me,” he says. “I wanted to punch that new HR guy.”

“It’s a woman.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah. Found that out belatedly after I barged in.”

You smile despite yourself.

“Anyway, I talked to Bang PD. He didn’t authorize this. This HR lady, she’s new. A bit too eager, trigger-happy. I think she wanted to make a statement.”

“Well what kind?”

“She said she just wanted to protect Bangtan from people…” he pauses, shakes his head. “Who might be taking advantage of us. I told her you’re my girlfriend. Fuckin’ idiot!”

Oh?

“They could assign you back to Seventeen,” he prattles on, nostrils flaring. “Not like they’ve found a new person to take over. It’s not easy to find your level of talent and they’re stupid to…”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You said something…”

His mouth parts, a little confused.

“No cause you just casually dropped that.”

“Baby,” he hangs his head, pinching the space between his brows with his index and thumb. “That’s your takeaway?”

“Well,” you shrug. “News to me.”

“You’re my woman, okay? Don’t–” he tuts when you almost cut him off. “Baby please don’t even argue with me on this. You know I’ve been yours. And right now I feel guilty. I should have said so earlier and done my due diligence with the paperwork and shit. But I hate getting legal involved in my personal life. Hoba told me to do it. Cause he’s doling out NDAs left and right, but I don't want you to think you're just some hookup. This is on me. And I’m fixing it, okay. They will transfer you to any group you want.”

“I don’t want it,” you say, more firmly than you expected.

“Huh?”

“I don’t want it,” you repeat.

“You don’t want your boys?” 

You roll your eyes, because Seventeen is still some kind of chip on his shoulder. “No. I don’t want pity. Or to feel like they just let me stay because they’re afraid of you.”

“Damn right they are.”

You breathe out, jaw tight. “I want to leave with my head up. And I did.”

Yoongi nods, slow. Like he gets it. Because of course he does.

There’s a beat of silence, but it doesn’t last. Yoongi is still a ball of fire.

“You’re terrifying.”

“Why?”

“You’re so calm.”

You take a moment before you articulate your introspections as you enjoyed your merlot earlier. “You know what? Deep down, I knew it was gonna come to this,” you say. “And if it came down to it, I’d rather just leave HYBE… than you.”

That finally pulls a gentler sound from him. A quiet, pained exhale. His hand finds yours, holds it tight. When you look over, his eyes are glassy again, but his smile is faintly there—gummy, a little lopsided..

“What?” you ask.

He just shakes his head.

“Seriously, what?”

He presses his forehead against yours, closes his eyes.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You kiss him, and he lets you. For a minute or two you savor the way his lips slide against yours, no thoughts, just love. Then he pulls back and says something kind of out of pocket.

“I’m rich.”

You stare. “Okay…?”

“You know I can take care of you.” He says it so earnestly, but you can’t help but giggle.

“I don’t need a Sugar Daddy. How do they even call it if the woman is older?”

“How the hell are you so cool about this?”

“Because I know I have you, but I know I got me, too. I have some money saved up and some stocks I can sell if need be. Market’s looking bullish anyways…”

“You know how sexy you sound right now?”

“Umm talking about the stock market turns you on?”

“Something about a bull…”

“Want me to ride you like a bull?” You raise your brow.

“If you don’t let me fuck you right this second…”

Yoongi removes each button from your top, one by one, kissing every patch of skin revealed to him. You close your eyes, savoring the tiny, wet kisses deposited to your neck down to the valley of your breasts where he lingers for a beat. Purrs as he presses his cheek against your soft mounds and sighs before lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Use me,” he says. “I know you’re angry, baby.” He peels your shirt down your arms. “Let it out…”

He holds your nipple between his fingers, twists it, and you groan helplessly in response.

“You can punish me. if you want…”

It takes a while for you to process his offer, between butterfly kisses and the teensiest sucks against your skin, a combination that's driving you wild. 

But he’s right. As always. You are mad. Not at him. But the broken sexist system.

“Yoongi?” You tug his hair.

“Hm?”

“Sit back against the headboard.”

He nods and situates himself as you asked.

You walk over to your closet to find a scarf, this white and black Valentino that he gifted you some weeks back. You climb onto him, knees bracketing his hips as you watch the curiosity glistening from his eyes. 

You’ve never really done anything like this before. But you’re familiar with it and you’ve always been down to try anything new. Bonus is you know Yoongi likes to play, so this is perfect. Honestly, he is perfect.

“I’m gonna blindfold you. And you’re not allowed to touch me. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

The scarf drapes over his eyes, darkening everything he knows, leaving him with nothing but sensation. Breath. Sound. You.

“Use colors, okay?” you whisper, lips barely grazing the shell of his ear.

He nods, swallows. “Yes.”

“What’s it now?”

“Green:”

You hum in approval, fingers ghosting down his chest. “Good boy.”

You take your time with him. Explore his body in ways you never have before. Yoongi shivers. You watch his Adam’s apple bob, the breath hitch in his chest. 

“You asked for this,” you say softly, dragging your nails across his ribs, just enough to raise goosebumps. “So I’m going to use you.” You slap his cheek, earning a soft gasp from him, before his lips curve into a smile. He’s going to enjoy this, you can already tell.

You trace the lines of his body with your mouth. Flick your tongue on his nipples before nibbling on them until they're raw, slightly bruised. You blow cool air against it, earning you a low purr from the back of his throat.

He’s hard already. His huge cock straining against the waistband of his boxers, but you don’t touch him there. This is not like other nights. You want him aching for it.

You slink down to suck faint bruises into the soft dip of his hipbones. Let your nails wander, grazing his soft tummy where pink lines have bloomed like cat scratches. When he moans, hips bucking slightly, you press a palm flat to his stomach.

“Stay still,” you warn.

His voice is a rasp. “Yes, noona.”

You peel his boxers off slowly. His cock springs free—dark at the tip, already leaking. The bead of cum on his tip shines. You circle it once with your finger, feather-light.

“Fuck,” he gasps, hips twitching again.

You slap his thigh—not hard, just enough for pain to mix with the pleasure painted clearly on his face. “I said still.”

His hands flex against the sheets he’s gripping sooo tightly. You see the tension, the need. His mouth opens, lips trembling.

“More…”

You smirk, finally leaning down and licking a slow stripe up his shaft. He whimpers, whimpers! And by god, if it’s not the prettiest sound in the world.

And just for that you can throw him a bone. But you suck only the tip into your mouth and let it pop free. 

His body arches off the bed instinctively and one errant hand makes its way to the back of your neck.

Another slap—gentler this time.

“Sorry, noona.”

“Patience, baby. You wanted to be used, right? That means you wait until I’m done.”

You tease him for what feels like forever. Stroke him gently, then quicker, then stop just when he thinks you’ll give him more. Every whine you pull from him shoots straight to your cunt.

His thighs are trembling. “Noona. More…”

You finally straddle him, not lowering yourself yet, just grinding super slow against the base of his cock, letting your slick drag across him.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you murmur, stroking his cheek where the blindfold wraps around his head. 

“Fuck, noona, let me touch you.”

“Not yet,” you lean forward, let your tits press against his chest, and drop a small peck on the corner of his mouth. His lips pucker belatedly as you pull back.

“You are so hot like this, baby. So good to me,,” you assure him, sliding a hand down to wrap around his cock, pumping it just once, then again, tighter. “Color?”

“Green. Fucking green.”

Finally, you shift to guide him to your entrance. Still hovering. Still making him wait.

He’s breathless now, forehead sweaty beneath the scarf. “Fuck noona. Put it in. I need to feel you—fuck—need to cum in you, please.”

God, he sounds broken. Ruined.

You sink down in one slow, aching glide, and you moan in unison, in pure fucking ecstasy. Your voice high and needy, his low and desperate. He’s pulsing inside you as you steady your hips, letting your walls adjust, keeping him warm.

“Fuck, you feel—fuck,” he gasps. “You’re so tight, noona. So warm—please let me touch you.”

“Not yet,” you grit out, riding him slow and mean, using him. You let your clit drag against the short hairs on his crotch, finding the perfect angle to get you off. He can probably sense it now in the steady swivel of your hips and the stutter in your breath. 

“Yeah, just like that, noona,” he says, voice hoarse. “Use me.”

You dig your nails into his chest, bite at his shoulder. You pant. Speeding up your grind. His legs are trembling now, the muscles on his thighs, stomach, taut. “Noona…” He’s babbling now, half-words and curses, his head tossing side to side. “Can’t—shit, please—I’m….”

He’s close. You’re almost there.

“Touch me.”

His hands immediately fly towards your hips, pressing you down, deeper. Grabs your ass and guides your movements.

You fuck him harder like this, ride him like your life depends on it. You feel him losing it. Coming undone beneath you. 

“Where?”

“Inside me, baby. Fill me up…”

His whole body convulses, a strangled moan torn from his throat as he spills into you. You follow a heartbeat later, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound as you unravel together.

You don’t move for a moment. Just feel his chest heaving beneath you, the sweat between your bodies. You remove the blindfold.

His lashes are wet. He looks wrecked and raw and beautiful.

“Was that okay?” you ask softly, fingers combing his damp hair back from his forehead.

He nods slowly. Smiles. “More than okay.”

You guide him to lie flat again, press your palm to his chest to calm his breathing. You grab a warm towel and clean him gently, kissing each place you left a bruise or scratch.

He pulls you close afterward, arms around your waist, face pressed to your shoulder.

Before you drift off, you remember something you wanted to address.

“Can I ask you something?”

He hums.

“Why were you so worried earlier?”

“Namjoon said you looked a little, like, out of it, you know. And when I couldn’t get a hold of you, I thought you…” he heaves a sigh. “I don’t know why my mind went into that. But I just couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Your heart squeezes. “That’s not gonna happen, Yoongi. I’m yours.”

He hugs you and doesn’t let go.

Post-HYBE life turns out to be pretty… as Yoongi says, slayyy. 

It was tough in the beginning, starting from scratch. You start your own website and portfolio, reach out to friends and contacts to help get your skin back into the game. A few months in, you’re now affiliated with a salon who specializes in editorial and product campaign shoots. Your last one was with Choi San for D&G Beauty.

Yoongi slips deeper into your life until the boundaries blur. A toothbrush in his cup. His shirt in your hamper. 

You never needed to say it. Because you both knew that this wasn’t fleeting. That you weren’t getting any younger. That whatever this is feels constant. 

One night he sends you a Spotify link. To one song. It’s a BTS track.

He usually doesn’t send his own stuff when you exchange playlists (a ritual that stayed on). You listen to it.

🎵Home - BTS

Your chest tightens. Your fingers hover over the reply. But then he calls.

No hi or how are you. Just one question: “Move in with me?”

Life with him is a burst of pigments.

Yellow, in the warm sunlight that wakes you both every morning. Orange, in the tips of his fingers when he’s peeled his umpteenth tangerine. Blue, in the fabric softener he overused to the point that it triggered an allergic reaction for both of you. (Downy is now banned.) 

Green, in the hangover soup you cook for him after a night out. (You, on the other hand, are sober for 2 months now.) Purple, in the marks he leaves on your inner thighs and the soft bruises on your chest. Pink, in the way he blushes when you walk out in his clothes. 

And then, finally:

Red, in the two faint lines. 

You blink down at the stick in your hand, seated on the toilet, heart pounding.

It’s only a minute before the door creaks open.

“Babe?” Yoongi floats in. “You’ve been in here a while.”

He sees your face first. Then the test clutched around your fingers.

He’s piecing it together.

“Omo,” he breathes, stunned.

You nod, heart tight in your throat.

“OMO OMO, you’re pregnant?” he says it with so much disbelief it makes you laugh through the lump in your chest.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?!” he kneels on the tiles in front of you. His hands are on your cheeks, your shoulders, your belly. “Holy shit!!!”

You’re laughing now, ugly and teary. He pulls you into a tight hug, still stunned.

He leans back, eyes wild with emotion. “We’re gonna have a baby?”

“I guess we are.”

And then the tears come, his. Yoongi chokes out a wet little sound and buries his squishy face in your neck. “Fuck. I’m so happy.”

“Me, too.”

You are.

So happy.

So ready.

So loved.

Between pigments & playlists. 

In technicolor. In surround sound.

In the forever you never thought possible.

This spring day.

:)

A/N: Soooo?? Did y'all bogo your shipdas? (dk what the means, but hope you liked it?)

Yoongi is back! While it was a bittersweet note that we got today, I know things are only going to get better from here for him and us. I hope and pray that he knows that he is so so so loved by ARMY.

So the fic! Yes the fic! I’d love some feedback. And a reblog if you are so inclined?

Thank you for reading this you lovely beautiful human, xo

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[ofstarsandvibranium]

Maternal Advice

Fandom: The Pitt

Pairing: Dr. Robby x F!Reader

Summary: You're joining Robby and his colleagues for dinner and provide some love advice to the group.

Mom of the ER | The Pitt Masterlist

You sat beside Robby at the restaurant. It was a local place, similar to an Applebee's or Chili's, but more mom and pop.

You and Robby liked to frequent the place, even knowing the owners by name. It was a chill, neutral place, that closed late, which was perfect for a dinner with the day shift PTMC team.

After their shift, everyone had gone home to change and met at the restaurant. Robby still donned a hoodie, but with joggers and a t-shirt this time. You were dressed in some leggings, a t-shirt, and cardigan for the cool breeze.

Everyone sat around the large tables, eating and chatting away. You're resting your head on Robby's shoulder, listening to him chat with Heather. You knew they had dated years ago, but both have made it very clear that ship has sailed. Especially since you and Robby are married, and you were never the jealous type anyway. Heather is a great woman and friend to you and Robby.

"I just don't have time for dating. I don't know how the hell you two manage it," she says nodding to you two.

You smile at her, "It was hard in the beginning. I can admit that I was super clingy, so I had trouble adjusting at first. But I got used to it. Michael still made efforts to see me after grueling hours at work, so I knew he still wanted to be with me."

"She dealt with a lot too, cancelled dates, only being able to talk on the phone a few times over a course of a few days. I didn't make things easy, but she still stuck around," he looks fondly at you and you look at him with a matching expression.

Trinity groans, "Dating fucking sucks nowadays. Don't get me started on the apps."

Mateo chimes in, "Finding people in-person isn't any better."

"So we're all just doomed to loneliness?" Trinity scowls and takes a swig from her beer.

You hum, "Is it too cliche to say that you'll find someone someday?"

"Yes," the group replies in unison.

Frank scoffs, "I met my wife in person. Things are great. We got a kid and a dog-"

"Which you got without discussing with her first," Heather chimes in.

You grimace, "How pissed was she?"

"...very. But she caved when she saw how happy it made the kid. So...still a win?"

You and Heather give each other a look and Robby shakes his head, "You still have much to learn, Langdon," he says and then sips from his beer.

Everyone goes off into their own conversations again. Frank and Robby talk about sports and you just sit there watching everyone around the table.

Towards the end, you see Victoria, the youngest of the residents, talking with Mateo. You see she's a little frazzled, stuttering over her words as she speaks with him. You can't help but giggle, which catches the attention of Robby.

"What's funny?"

You lean in and whisper in his ear, "Victoria's got a crush on Mateo."

Robby cocks a brow at you and looks in the direction of the aforementioned. He furrows his brows and you explain, "She keeps tucking her hair behind her ears, she's hanging onto his every word. She's agreeing with everything he's saying. Crush behavior."

"You never did that stuff with me," he mumbles.

"Michael, I wasn't a young twenty year old woman when we started dating. I was a seasoned veteran in the dating game by then."

Your husband chuckles, "Seasoned, huh?"

You roll your eyes, "Shut up. This isn't about me. This is about Victoria."

"Let her be. Javadi doesn't need to be coddled."

Mateo seems to say something funny because Victoria laughs, but then she makes a snort and she freezes. She quickly excuses herself and rushes to the bathroom.

"I'm gonna check on her."

"ER mom to the rescue," Robby says and you swat at his shoulder as you pass him.

When you enter the bathroom, Victoria is lightly banging her head against a bathroom stall.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

She looks at you with worry in her eyes, "Did you see that? God, that was so embarrassing!"

You chuckle, "It was cute."

She shakes her head and starts to pace, "I don't want to be considered cute. I want to be seen as serious and mature and worth dating." You can tell she's frustrated and you approach her, moving some strands of hair out of her face.

"Don't try to be someone else just so someone will like you, honey. That never goes the way that you want. It gets exhausting and you end up losing yourself in the process. If you like someone, just be yourself. And if they like you, then they like you as you are. Don't go changing yourself just because you think it's what they want."

Victoria's shoulders deflate in defeat and you sigh, "If things don't work out with Mateo, it'll be okay. It's not the end of the world. You have an entire lifetime to find someone. I mean, look at me and Robby. We found each other later in life and so unexpectedly. You'll be okay."

The young woman lets out a deep breath and nods, "Okay. Thank you, Y/N."

"Anytime."

You turn to exit, but she stops, "Wait."

"Yeah?" you answer, facing her.

"Is it..okay if I hug you?"

You softly smile at her, "Of course." She rushes forward and wraps her arms around you and you do the same to her. You squeeze her tight, "You know if you're ever having boy trouble or just wanna chat, you can text or call me."

"Really? I don't want to bother-"

"You won't. I promise. Where's your phone?" she pulls it out of her back pocket and you type in your number with your name. You hand it back to her, "There."

"Thanks," she murmurs, "You really are such a mom."

You laugh, "So I've been told. Come on," you lead her out of the bathroom and you two head back to the table.

When you settle beside Robby once more, he asks, "Everything okay?"

You nod, "Just girl talk."

"And another kid adopted into the Robby Family," Heather states with a smirk and you roll your eyes at her.

[monstersholygrail]

more skeleton suiter. he seems like he likes books.

Referring to this fic

You twirl your hair as you walk through Skeleton Suitor’s living room, looking through all of his ancient looking bookshelves. You two had decided to go to his house this time.

At first, you had invited him over to your place where you could show him movies. And that ended up leading to you showing him how to kiss which… lead to some other stuff. But now here you are in his bachelor pad. At least you think it would be a bachelor pad by his standards anyway.

When you had first gotten to his place, you were embarrassed to admit you were shocked to see a vast and aged manor on a large plot of land that he had owned for a long time. Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised. He was an Eldritch Lich after all, he’s been around forever. And nothing about him really screamed “modern.”

Still, it took you by surprise. Or maybe what really surprised you was the fact that a guy you were dating was actually a home owner and not some deadbeat like the others in the past.

Now you peruse his many books on the countless shelves that fill his home. You wonder how one person can read so many things before you remind yourself that he’s been around a lot longer than you realize.

His eyes are on you now, watching you. Waiting for you to react to his home.

“Read to me?” Is the first thing you ask before you whirl around to face him.

The bone of his jaw drops and you can tell you’ve taken him by surprise. The flames in his eyes flicker with interest though.

“Is that what you wish? Wherever did such a request come from?” He asks, his voice a delicious deep raps that reminds you of just what that tongue in his mouth can do.

You only give him a shy little shrug, reaching out to fiddle around with one of the books on his shelf. Unknowingly picking one of the nastiest toe-curling smut books written in his original Lich language.

“I showed you human culture last time so this time read me something from yours. You like to read, right?” You ask as you hold the book for him to take.

Pleasantly surprised by your request, your Skeleton bf nods in response, smiling as best as he’s able. The two of you naturally fall onto the couch, his hard body spooning you from behind as he holds the book out for you both to see.

Yet it doesn’t take long after he starts reading to realize your mistake. Not only in what book you accidentally chose but also in underestimating how turned on you’d get by the sound of his deep raspy voice.

His voice washes over you like waves crashing along the shore, shooting tingly sparks down your spine. You grow more aware of your surroundings the longer he translates the book into a language you can understand. His chest is pressed right against your back, his voice seeping right into your ear. His lack of breath only makes you squirm more against him.

As the book gets more dirty, one smut scene after the next, arousal courses through you, demanding to be satisfied. By now your panties are completely soaked through and you can’t stop thinking about it no matter how much you try. Not even listening to him reading anymore, your mind so consumed with need.

“Would you like to try this scene? Perhaps it’ll allow you to focus more,” your Skeleton bf suddenly muses, jolting you out of your thoughts.

A deep blush spreads across your cheeks and down your neck and your bf watches it, finding the life force inside you so tempting and arousing. It was a sign of the blood that flows through your veins and there was nothing sexier to him than seeing your life force thrive. It’s obvious both of you are too riled up to focus so you hesitantly nod and watch as your bf’s eyes spark a lustful red.

You lay back down on the couch, watching closely as your bf gently but quickly rids you of your clothes while keeping his on as the scene in the book demanded. He spreads your thick thighs as far as they can go on the narrow couch and stuff himself between them, groaning at the feel of your flesh beneath his palms and the scent of your arousal.

The only warning you get is seeing his long tentacle tongue flick out, wetting his bony mouth, before he dives right in lapping at your drooling cunt and devouring you like a man starved.

You cry out, hips bucking as sparks race through your body and shoot straight down to your clit. The aphrodisiac venom that coats his tentacle tongue works its magic. Your body growing unbearably hot till you writhe against him in your impatience and your mind growing deliciously hazy as you let it take hold.

Luckily his bony fingers are right there to dig into your plush softness and drag you back harder against his mouth as his tentacle explores all your depths, ensuring every single inch of you is covered in his aphrodisiac. It only takes minutes to work before you’re a dripping mess, copious amounts of your slick pushing out with every flutter of your cunt.

And your bf is right there to happily lick it up, which only gives him more to eat. He could stay there, right between your thighs for the rest of his very long life. Living off of nothing but the sweet nectar of your cunt.

“So messy, my sweet. Making such a mess, aren’t you? Worry not, I’ll clean you right up,” he says darkly, his words sounding more like a threat than anything else and you shiver against him.

With a fierce growl his tentacle tongue plunges deep inside you once again, fucking you with his mouth like he’s trying to scoop out your insides and drag them right into his eager mouth.

The aphrodisiac venom has your body pulsing and you can’t hold on any longer as you cum hard, your vision flashing white as you soak your bf’s face till your essence is dripping off his cheeks and chin. He works you through your orgasm, drinking up every drop you offer him, only shifting away hesitantly when you push at his shoulder.

Even though his venom still rolls through you, begging for another release, the overstimulation has you twitching and panting already. Seeing your need for a break, your bf returns to holding you in his embrace, picking his book back up.

“Shall we continue?” He asks and you marvel at him, bewilderment in your gaze.

Yet his words only inflame your simmering lust, the double meaning behind them affecting you more than you thought possible. And you know he won’t even manage to finish the chapter before you’ll need to have him again.