#cunnilingus/enemies to lovers/sharing a bed

[tonycries]

Unhoneymooners!? - G.S.

Synopsis. The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, unprotected, argument as foreplay, slight enemies to lovers, more like annoyances actually, cunnilingus, oral (male + female), spitting, creampié, one bed trope, rough, Satoru is still EXTREMELY down bad for you, and unfairly hot, forced proximity, cúmplay, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 8.5k

A/N. It’s impossible to not write Satoru without bullying him at least a little bit.

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 2 weeks, and 16 hours ago - not that you were keeping count, of course.

So why was he outside of your resort room blasting “Kill Bill” by SZA like he’s auditioning for the world’s most dramatic comeback tour? On what should’ve marked your fourth anniversary, no less.

Well, given you were the one to lock him out, but still - the stubborn bastard could at least have some decorum. 

With an exasperated sigh, you throw yourself onto the king-sized bed of your honeymoon suite, trying to will away that annoying, grating voice - not SZA, no, more so Satoru singing along at the top of his lungs to the chorus. 

How did you even get here? And with Satoru of all people - your Satoru. Or at least he was this time a little over a year ago. 

You first met Satoru when you were in university, back when he wore those pretentious circled sunglasses and waltzed around those halls like he owned the place. And after a single literature assignment together, he wasn’t just your (self-proclaimed) best friend; he was the reluctantly favorite thorn in your side. 

Like the rest of him, Satoru’s introduction into your love-life was anything but subtle. It wasn’t like he strolled in, gave a polite nod, and blended into the background. Oh no, he bulldozed his way in and dragged you to dance with him on the tables of some dingy frat party in what you could only assume was some joke from the universe at your expense.

And damn him, you think bitterly, you couldn't resist him that night. Spinning you into a dramatic dip, silver chain brushing your face as his half-lidded eyes bored into yours. You couldn’t not kiss him after the way his hands were just searing into your skin. 

God, you’ve never been able to listen to “Gasolina” the same way ever since.  

Satoru was in love as he was in the rest of life - a force of nature, and it was too easy to find yourself caught up in him.

That night at the frat party was just the beginning. From then on was a rollercoaster of everything from heated debates over the best flavor of ramen to impromptu road trips where you’d end up under a carpet of stars. Wrapped in each other’s arms and sharing whispered secrets for an unpromised future - oftentimes where Satoru would crack a joke or two about running away to Tokyo with him. To which you’d laugh it off with a “Yeah yeah, I’d leave everything I’ve known behind in a heartbeat for your dumbass, Toru.”

You just didn’t think that it would be the downfall to your relationship. All the empty promises. 

Because as those heavenly days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, eventually two years had gone by. The whirlwind romance settled into a comfortable rhythm, but with it came the looming promise of graduation and Satoru moving to work under his family company in Tokyo.

Under pressure, it wasn’t long before the cracks began to show, the arguments more frequent, and the silences more deafening. And as your relationship slowly turned into nothing more than a husk of what it used to be - so did the both of you.

Long story short, graduation was a bittersweet goodbye - and you think both of you knew long before it was actually over. Neither of you attended the afterparty - with Satoru on a flight straight to Tokyo and you at home to stuff your face with chocolate. Hey, at least you could blame your tears on finally leaving university, right? 

You had meticulously erased his name from your phone, your social media, and even your dreams - well, almost, the bastard still came around to bother you occasionally. It was messy, painful, and final.

But “final” really didn’t explain your current predicament. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Satoru is that he’s always there - whether you liked it or not. He was there when you needed a partner for that literature assignment, and he was there to turn your world upside down at that dingy frat party.

Hell, he was even there to help you stubbornly chug mountains of ice cream and win that raffle for this five day-long getaway trip to the Maldives. Though, you think he might’ve chugged the ice cream without the promise of a vacation anyway.

But, when ultimately those shiny tickets came in the mail - Satoru wasn’t there. Oh well, it might’ve been a couple’s trip - but you could have a hot girl summer, right? Maybe you could even snag a hottie by the end. You’d almost forgotten that he’d be getting his copy of the tickets as well.

Yet, unfortunately - as the beginning notes of P!nk’s “So What” bursts through the heavy wooden door - you were inevitably reminded of the fact that he was here. Right now. Goading you into coming outside.

You find yourself groaning inwardly (and outwardly) because of course, why wouldn’t he come back even more obnoxious than before? You haven’t seen him in ages, yet here he is, crashing back into your life with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Or - you furrow your brows at his purposefully off-key singing carrying over the sounds of the waves outside - with the subtlety of a manchild with a JBL and a premium account on Spotify.  

Rubbing your temples in frustration, you contemplate how much longer of this it would take before you’re both kicked out of this resort. And after you ate so many ice creams to win this getaway trip? No chance.

With a resigned sigh, you rise from the bed, smoothing out the bathing suit you’d just put on before the devil incarnate showed up knocking at your door. Something hot and prickly pools in your stomach as you approach it, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the situation. So like Satoru.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you shakily reach for the handle. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal actually.

…

What’s the worst that can happen?

Slam! 

The door swings open, and there in all his smug glory stands a very shirtless Satoru. Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru, the same asshole you’ve blocked on even Gmail. 

Except, you’re momentarily struck by how high you have to raise your eyes to meet his. Are growth spurts even a thing anymore? You didn’t have a chance to take a good look last time before slamming the door shut at the first flash of white hair and a smug grin.

But right now, traitorously, your gaze catches on just how broad his shoulders look and…since when was he so chiseled? Damn you, Tokyo - you were doing him too good.

His hair is slightly longer too, curtaining those slightly more mature features, stopping just above that ever-immature grin. One which moves as he hums, “Well, happy fourth anniversary to me, If I knew this came with the suite then I’d have swam here myself.”

You scoff, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious as he wiggles his brows, striking blue eyes sweeping your figure from head to toe. “I’d prefer if you swam back. What are you doing?” 

“Why, just showing up to our room on our lil’ honeymoon, sweetheart.” Satoru sing-songs, leaning against the doorframe to fully prevent you from slamming the door in his (admittedly) pretty face again. “And before you try to break my nose with that door again, I won that ticket here fair and square, y’know. I ate just as much ice cream as you did for it.”

“You ate most of those before you knew about the getaway raffle.” you sigh over his nonchalant shrug, pinching your nose, “And stop calling it our honeymoon, I dumped you five months ago.”

“Well aren’t you just the gift that keeps on giving. Keeping count?”

“No. Don’t be a pest.”

“Always thought you had a thing for pests. After all, you did date me.” As Satoru grins impossibly wider, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He winks, “And if I’m a pest then you’re an itch that just won’t go away.”

“At least I’m not the itch that shows up uninvited to someone’s honeymoon suite.” you hiss. And with that you start shutting the door ever-so-slowly, delighting in the panic that overtakes Satoru’s features as he reaches out frantically.

“Hey!” he sputters, “I didn’t know you’d be here! And besides this ‘pest’ forgot his slippers all the way in Tokyo and can’t stand on flaming-hot boardwalks for too long so let me in.”

And sure enough, you glance down to see that Satoru isn’t wearing any slippers on the scorching boardwalk. The realization almost brings a smirk to your lips. This idiot. 

“Wow.”

“‘Wow’ at my feet or-”

“I should leave you here to rot just for your pure idiocy.” you deadpan, eyes locked on the way he’s burning his soles off yet still has the audacity to flash you a cocky smile.

“But you won’t.” he hums.

A beat passes. One. Two. And Satoru’s grin almost falters, before you finally relent - opening the door just a crack, cursing his entire bloodline under your breath. “You’re incorrigible” you mutter as he saunters inside victoriously, dragging his hefty luggage behind.

“Why change perfection, sweetheart~” he calls out, heading straight for the bedroom, only to let out a delighted “OooOOo” at the sight of the king-sized bed in the middle. The only bed. “How scandalous, maybe you’ll even fall in lov-” 

“Don’t. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a seashell.” you warn, holding up both keycards threateningly, “I get the bed, you take the couch.”

“But-”

“And I’ve got the keys, so slippers or not you’ll be back out on that boardwalk.” 

A slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips at the way Satoru looked so dramatically crestfallen, you continue - just to be petty, “And no more ‘Kill Bill’ that’s on my angry ex playlist.”

With a heavy sigh he sulkily makes his way to the bathroom, calling out as he does, “Fine. But I’m showering first.”

As he disappears from sight you throw yourself onto your bed, basking in what little peace and quiet you’ll have because of your unwanted guest. This was going to be a-

“And I’m using all of your body lotions.”

“...”

“I will use one of your body lotions.”

Groaning, you sink into the plush mattress, just wishing it would swallow you whole and spare you from this torment. And this was only Day 1? This was going to be a very long five days. 

---

The first night with Satoru, honestly, wasn’t too bad. 

You don’t know what you expected exactly - maybe for him to pour hair dye in your shampoo or something. But he actually stuck to his word, slept on the couch after only a bit of taunting, and used only one of your body lotions. Your best-smelling, most expensive one, but one nonetheless.

Feeling slightly more optimistic, you spent most of the second day at the beach, meanwhile he stuck to lounging by the pool. Add in a bit of pretending you didn’t know him by the salad bar at dinner and that made for an almost-perfect hot girl summer. 

Well, considering that you were rooming with your insufferable longtime ex - in a honeymoon suite of all places. 

The only catch came that night, fully content at the burning soreness from being pushed around by the waves outside. You got ready to splay out on your bed, humming along to the tunes of your playlist and…Satoru���s lamenting?

“I swear my back feels like it’s been run over by a truck. Five of them, and a zoo.” he complains from behind you, dramatically draping himself over the couch - his impromptu bed. 

“Good.”

“What if that was my last straw?”

“Even better.”

His exaggerated, disappointed whine is both embarrassing and almost-endearing as you roll your eyes, resisting the urge to suffocate him with a pillow. “Maybe call your chiropractor guy.”

Satoru shot you a pointed look, his expression a mixture of faux innocence and irritation, which you knew too well. “I wish but he’s trekking through the Himalayas. C’mon~ Don’t you think that lovely king-sized bed is too big for just one?”

“No, but the boardwalk sure is. Maybe you should try it out.” you monotone, getting ready to end this conversation once and for all. 

But when has Satoru ever let you off easy? He sits up abruptly, a devious smile curling his lips. “Ohh, I get it.” he taunts, batting his long lashes mockingly, “You’re scared to sleep in the same bed with me.”

Huh?

“Out of all the idiotic-” you cut yourself off by whirling around to face his smug grin, “Why would I be scared to sleep in a bed with you. I’ve done that far too many times already.”

“Exactly,” he chuckles. “And all those times you could barely last an hour before without keeping your hands off of me. Scared you’ll end up pinned underneath me and stuffed full like old times, sweetheart?”

You narrow your eyes at him despite the heat burning your face. “The only thing I’m scared of is your icicle feet on my side.”

He laughs, a sound that’s equal parts irritating and endearing, and stands up from where he was slumped on the couch. Making his way slowly, but surely towards you, “Oh, c’mon. For old times’ sake, admit it, you miss me.”

"Yeah, missed the peace and quiet I don’t have because of your big mouth,” you scoff. Finding it hard to meet his twinkling gaze as he comes close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. Your cheeks burn at the proximity - hot enough to match the heat radiating off his body. 

Satoru shakes his head, undeterred by your threats. And suddenly you get the overwhelming urge to throw him out the window and straight into the ocean. “You can deny it all you want, but you still have feelings for me.”

Your jaw clenches at his audacity. “You wish. I’d never.”

“Then prove it.”

Damn, he was good.

Which is probably how you found yourself lying in the same bed as Satoru, with a wall of all the pillows in the room erected between you two - and a few extra from room service just in case. 

“Sweetheart, this is a king-sized bed. Is the fortress really necessary?”

You wrap your blankets tighter around yourself, trying to ignore the figure radiating warm right next to you. Muttering out a muffled little, “Yeah, so you can keep your mitts off of me.”

Satoru groans dramatically, bed creaking as he shuffles what you can only assume to be closer to you. “You keep your mitts off of me, you lecher.” he quips, voice dripping with sarcasm as he inches closer.

You stiffen at his proximity, feeling his warmth seep through the layers of blankets and pillows as he chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine, “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. We used to share a bed all the time.”

“That was before,” you interject. God, you didn’t like where this conversation was going. 

“Before what?” Satoru presses, his voice low and insistent. 

Now, you might’ve let yourself be goaded into sharing a bed but these were old wounds better off left alone. You hiss, tone firm, “Before. Now sleep” 

Before when you didn’t have to make a wall of pillows. Before when he would hold you tight and whisper sweet secrets into your ear. That he’d buy you the biggest ring he saw and promise you the world. Before- 

“I missed you, y’know.” Satoru breaks the silence barely audible over the sound of your own thoughts. The word pangs through your mind and claws at your chest. And at your silence he continues, tone a little lighter, “And stop hogging all the blankets, I’m gonna freeze to-”

“Boardwalk.”

“My apologies, ma’am. Goodnight, ma’am.”

And he sinks back into his pillow with a huff, you let out a sigh of relief. Something hot coiling in your stomach as you close try to catch as much sleep as you possibly could with the bane of your existence laying right beside you. The suddenly taller, dangerously handsome, still as-obnoxious-as-ever bane of your existence. 

You just wonder if he remembered “before”.

Oh, how Satoru remembered “before”. So much so that he had sixteen different playlists dedicated to you even after the breakup.

It’s divine punishment - it has to be. Satoru thinks there’s no reasonable explanation for the series of unfortunate events happening to him other than punishment from his ancestors above for being such a pussy and losing the love of his life.

First he forgets his slippers, then he ends up locked out of his own honeymoon suite by said love of his life. Granted, all thoughts of his poor burnt soles went out the window the moment he caught a glimpse of you in that positively sinful bikini. God, were you glowing. A goddess upon Earth - he could really give the Gojo Satoru of five months ago a good, hard kick.

And now he’s stuck in a - very comfortable - prison with you just inches away, tossing and turning in that way he knows means that you can’t sleep either. 

Honestly, very funny universe, the great Gojo Satoru demands a refund. Way to punk’d him into confronting the feelings he’s desperately been trying to bury these past few months - ever since he got on that plane to Tokyo and contemplated faking a heart attack just to get off. 

Realizing just then that he lost the love of his life - and the only woman who’d tolerate his karaoke nights. But with that realization came another, more jarring one: he was too late. 

Every touch, every laugh, and even every time you rolled your eyes was etched into his very soul, and it felt like a montage from a sappy breakup movie directed by a sadistic screenwriter who had it out for him. 

And it really didn’t help that this was the exact suite he was planning once upon a time to propose in. God, how you’d feed him to the crabs if he said anything about that - nevermind the fact that he was actually one that booked this-

But still, some traitorous, annoying part of his heart interrupts, she still hasn’t made you sleep on the boardwalk yet.

Maybe - just maybe - he’ll wake up to a second chance?

…

Ha. As if.

“I can’t sleep.” Satoru groans out loud, more so to drown out his own thoughts than anything.

“Well, I can. Goodnight.”

Ah, his girl was such a lil’ liar. Undeterred, the mattress creaks as he shuffles his weight to excitedly face you, taking a moment to admire how pretty you looked under the dim moonlight. He plows on, “Hey, if you promise not to make me crab food, wanna walk along the beach and watch the stars?”

A beat of silence. One. Two. so deafening and tense that Satoru was half a second away from obnoxiously laughing it off as a joke and pulling out his Emo Times™ playlist. 

“Or I can go back to the couch and-”

“Shut up. Let’s watch the stars, Satoru.”

But what do you know - maybe the universe hasn’t given up on him just yet. 

And, well, if he woke up the next morning breaching your fortress - your warm breath tickling his neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, like the lifeline he never knew he needed - then, neither of you mentioned it.

---

“Hey, Satoru. You think we’ll always be like this?” you hum into your boyfriend’s chest, barely a whisper as the looming fears of, well, everything ring in your mind. 

He pulls you close, flashing a mischievous grin before planting a dramatic kiss on the top of your head. “Duh, I’ll always be around to drive you dangerously close to a stroke, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, yet bury yourself closer to his warmth anyway.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter if I have to drag you by the leg to Tokyo. Wherever you are is where I belong. ”

---

You’ve come to learn that a resort island is only so big when you’re actively trying to avoid your 6’3 manchild of an ex.

Now that you were rooming with Satoru, sleeping with Satoru (in a literal sense only, of course), and just-so-happening to bump into him at the beach - somehow, talking with him is a little easier, his presence just a bit more exciting than you’d care to admit. 

If the you of four days ago could see what had become of you, then she’d probably slap some sense into you faster than you could say “Kill Bill”. Sleeping in the same bed (still only literally), having dinner, watching the stars - with Gojo Satoru? You’ve gone completely off your rocker. 

But could you really be blamed? These last few days have you feeling like maybe you’ve been dropped into an alternate universe, where you and Satoru never broke up. 

Yet, reality is a persistent little bastard. And with the end of your trip looming dangerously closer, the past you would be cackling mockingly in your face, flashing a large sign in big, red letters reading “I TOLD you so.” 

Whatever. Maybe by this time tomorrow both of you could laugh this all off as a silly little adventure and call yourself somewhat begrudging friends. Maybe you’d even end up unblocking him by the end - on Gmail, at least.

At the very least, dinnertime was a solace - both from your thoughts and the smug bastard talking your ear off about how he could “make that spaghetti better than a thousand Italian grandmothers.”

Until the fourth - and final - night, that is. When the resort, deciding that your current torture wasn’t already enough, arranged a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

Great. Wonderful. Perfect, in fact. Going out with a bang. Was this really part of the all-inclusive package? It was like the universe was playing some twisted joke on you - or some awful version of wingmanning. 

You grit your teeth silently as you’re ushered to the beachside table, thoughts barely audible over the waves crashing against the shore and the soft, romantic music drifting from the band nearby. 

The complete opposite of Satoru, who was already seated at the table and enjoying himself far too much for your liking. He lounged back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched you sit opposite him uncomfortably.

You hated to admit it - but God was he dangerously beautiful in that crisp white button-up, one that you knew was from his overpriced collection for special occasions. You found yourself fighting to avoid the amber hues twinkling in his eyes as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features.

Pretty? So frighteningly pretty - until he speaks, that is.

“And here I thought our honeymoon couldn’t get any worse. You’re sweating bullets, sweetheart. This your first date with me or something?”

“We’re not on a honeymoon, Satoru. And no, it just brings back memories.” you scoff. Relishing in the way he inches his chair closer to listen, clearly not expecting this sudden sentimentality. “Memories of why I blocked you on every social media.”

All but slamming his head down on the table, Satoru whines out, “Ouch, straight for the jugular. That mouth is still as bitchy as ever, huh? Though I do prefer it choking on my-”

“I’m going to throw you into the ocean.”

“Ooo, kinky~” he hums, swirling his wine glass, “But you know what this reminds me of? That one time we had dinner under the stars.”

You froze, the memories suddenly flashing back to you despite your best efforts to suppress them. “Oh yeah,” you muse. A chuckle leaving your mouth despite yourself, “Wasn’t that where you spilled ketchup all over your shirt and then insisted it was a fashion statement?”

He leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey! It worked, didn’t it? I got compliments from everyone including you.”

“I was just trying to stop you from bursting into tears.” you roll your eyes, shaking your head at the memory. 

“Exactly, sweetheart. Like moths to a flame.”

“More like to a bug-zapper.”

Satoru throws his head back and laughs, loud and unabashed. A sound that echoes across the beach and makes something warm and sticky strum at your heartstrings. And at that moment, that stupid, little part of you didn’t even mind that you were at a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

And he didn’t even have to goad you into it with SZA this time.

As the orange glow of the setting sun melded into the cool blue of the night, it almost felt like slipping back into an old routine. The food had long since been finished. Jabs and shared memories flowing through the air like the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

The cool air was now thick with contentment and something so unknown yet so familiar that it made your heart race. 

 “I swear.” you groan over Satoru’s loud cackles, “He tried to charm his way out of the bill by flirting with the waitress. In front of me.”

Satoru doubles over, clutching his stomach as he laughs uproariously. “Classic move! If he’s going to be a cheapskate then he should’ve at least been successful with it.”

Damn, was he eternally grateful for these dim candles. Otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flushing tinting his cheeks. How dare you sit there so gorgeous and perfect in front of him. Perfect for him - you haven’t changed one bit.

“Right? She looked ready to fling us both out.” You chuckle, eyes catching on the little dimple just at the corner of his mouth as Satoru shoots you a sly grin. “Mhm, I know if it were me I would’ve charmed us out of the bill successfully.”

You raise a brow, retorting, “Oh please. I’ve had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of that ‘charm’. You’d probably end up charming us into washing dishes in the kitchen.” 

Ah, right now, he doesn’t think he wants to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. 

“Ouch, you wound me, woman!” Satoru feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically before leaning down to whisper, low and conspiratorial, “Besides, I doubt you even remember what pleasure feels like since being with me.”

A thrill goes down your spine as you realize the insinuation of his words, steady and searing - matching that of  Satoru’s fingers on yours - which had snuck their way across the table, lazily tracing patterns along your skin. 

When did they even get there? Sly bastard.

Your mouth drops into a soft oh! at the dangerous glint in his eyes. But you refuse to back down, “Don’t flatter yourself, Satoru. I’ve had other guys make me cum much harder than you have.”

Touch burning. Mapping every curve and dip he’d known so well, and this time - you graze them back. A challenge. God, you missed that warm little flutter in your chest. 

That seems to catch him by surprise, as those darkened blue eyes widen. But there’s a dangerous edge to his grin as he purrs, voice low. “Is that so?” 

And with that, Satoru’s chair is scraping softly against the sand as he stands up, “C’mon, you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

Oh. 

Satoru knows that it’s been 5 months, 4 weeks, and 8 hours since you two lasted an entire dinner civilly - not that he was counting, duh.

So when he begged the resort staff into setting the two of you up on this special candlelit dinner, he was expecting you to drown him in the lobster tank halfway through or at least end the night with a slap. 

What he certainly did not expect was to end dinner with you shoved against the closed door of your suite, legs wrapped impossibly tight around his waist, and lips trailing hot, openmouthed kisses down your neck. He angles your neck, body pressing so impossibly close to yours.

Inwardly, you curse his button-up for being so goddamn thin that you could feel his abs rub against you with every little movement. Toned chest rumbling as he groans at your hands tugging at those soft locks - just a tiny revenge, for your body lotion. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, and he breathes it in with an almost-pained sigh - not wanting to part for even a second. Because fuck it took so long to get you back and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment. 

Pulling just a hair’s breadth away, “Tell me what you want. Always knew we’d end up-”

“Just shut up and kiss me, you smug bastard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And, well, who was he to deny you? So he does. 

His lips are searing on yours, hasty and greedy. With a tinge of something so painfully familiar. Your hands make their way onto his chest, feeling the thundering heartbeat against your fingertips - matching that of yours. 

Sweet. You tasted so sweet. Just like honey, and all the dreams where he didn’t leave you behind. Where he didn’t get on that damned plane but instead ran to you all the way from the airport like those sappy romcoms you love. 

He licks at the seam of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck - he probably won’t. 

One hand cups your cheek so gently - a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his lips as he kisses you deeper. Meanwhile the other wanders the expanse of your body, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake.

Satoru parts with a playful nip to your bottom lip - and before you realize what’s happening, the zipper hits the ground. He’s ripping your pretty dress off - mumbling something about “buying a new one” before large hands surge forward, groping and kneading your tits.

His mouth waters at the sight of your bra. Light blue - to match his eyes. “You evil, evil woman.” he mutters into the soft valley of your breasts as you giggle delightedly. Oh, how he couldn’t get enough of you.

And if there was ever a moment that Satoru thinks he could cream his pants right there, then this would be at the very top, followed very closely by the sight of that withering glare you shot after opening that suite door to him just a few days ago.

He unhooks your bra with one hand, throwing it blindly across the room as if it killed him to see you clothed. 

Immediately, Satoru drops to his knees with the desperation of a madman, coming face-to face with the heavenly sight of your clothed cunt, soaking through your thin panties. 

“Didn’t specify where I had to kiss, sweetheart.”

Your gaze pierces through him, as it always did. “What are you-” Your words get choked up in your throat as his tongue darts out. Licking a long, languid stripe over your clothed cunt. 

“Shit. So sweet f’me, jus’ like I remember. Just one taste and I feel like m’gonna cum in my pants.” Satoru groans, urgently sliding your wet panties down your quivering legs. 

“F-flattery won’t work.” you stammer out as his hot breath fans your quivering entrance as he waits just a second - one, two.

Drinking in the view of your pretty pussy with dazed, half-lidded eyes. Wet - so wet, he almost wants to tease you - just a bit, to see if you’ll get even wetter. Ah, he doesn’t have enough time to take in this view - probably never will. Would it ruin the mood if he took a picture?

“Oh, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

Cock twitching carnally, Satoru needed to taste you now. He immediately surges forward. Breathing you in so sinfully, pooling your juices on his tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his head back back back to let it slide down his throat. 

Shit, if you were the forbidden fruit then he would gladly be cast out of the garden of Eden. 

Half-delirious thoughts running through his mind, Satoru flattens his tongue across your swollen folds. Leisurely sliding between them, catching on your throbbing clit up and down up and down up and-

“Oh- hngh, Satoru faster-”

“So bossy.” he hums prettily around your swollen clit, the vibrations stimulating it just right. But of course, what his girl wants, she will get. 

Lewd squelches and your mewls of his name ring in the heady room as he speeds up his ministrations. Rolling his tongue harshly along your clit, sucking so sensually. Licking at your sweet cunt, dipping just into your sloppy hole. 

You almost miss the long fingers that deftly slide their way up your thigh, spreading your folds with his thumbs. A low groan sounds at the back of his throat as your walls flutter so sinfully around nothing - aching for more friction. 

Urgently, Satoru bullies his fingers past your folds, sinking deep into your plushy walls as his tongue continues its abuse. So warm and wet around him. Curling his fingers just right.

“Ah- fuck, Satoru- Feels s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers back and forth. A ruthless pace that has tears stinging your eyes, hitting that spot over and over and-

“Oh yeah? Thought you didn’t like my ‘big mouth’?” he purrs, muffled around your clit, “Look at you, sweetheart, now falling apart cos’ of it.”

You scoff, fingers tangling in his silky hair, pushing him deeper into your dripping pussy - mostly because you needed it, but somewhat because you really needed him to shut up. “Yeah, I like it better when you shut the fuck up.”

And with a dark chuckle, his mouth is back on your cunt. Your slick glossy and dripping down the corner of his mouth as he alternates between sucking unforgivingly on your ravaged clit and fucking into you at the same time as his fingers. 

And in the delicious stretch of your cunt, you barely register the metallic clinking of a belt before Satoru presses his clothed erection into you.

Shit. You clench so obscenely around his tongue at the feeling of his clothed, painfully hard and throbbing against your leg. Fuck - as big as you remember. You weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

“You like this, huh?” he murmurs, speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure down your spine.

Cracking an eye open you risk a glance downward. Greedily eyeing the hand wrapped tightly around the base, moving up up up. Pumping in small, jerky movements at the same pace of his fingers fucking into you. “Like the way m’getting off to tonguefucking my girl?”

“Like thinking about how this is what I thought about all those lonely fucking night without you?” You arch into his touch, fingers searing on his scalp and angling Satoru just right to make your knees weak. 

He’s so close that you can feel the precum smearing onto your leg. Mouth fucking you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting. 

“Like thinking about how you’re all I can fucking think about.”

“Hngh- Yes, Satoru! Yes-” 

You see stars as you cum - or maybe those were the tears in your eyes. Pulling Satoru impossibly closer to your quivering pussy so that you could ride out your high on his pretty face. And he readily accepts it - letting himself be handled roughly with the conviction of a man that wouldn’t mind dying if it was suffocating in-between your pretty thighs. 

Your vision is hazy, blood still roaring in your ears as Satoru stands up. Not even bothering to wipe away the wet trail of your slick prettily glossing his lips before capturing yours in a searing kiss. 

“Y’know, sweetheart,” he gasps in between heated kisses. “We got a king-sized bed so we better make use of it, hm?”

Your back hits the mattress before you can even react. Reeling from shock and the audacity as you bounce at the sheer force of his throw. 

“Next time you do that you’re-” 

Whatever insult at the tip of your tongue melts away immediately at the purely pornographic sight of Satoru stalking his way towards you from the foot of the bed. Eyes hooded, cock rock-hard, kiss-bitten lips parted slightly in a way that was so fucked-out.

Unhurriedly approaching you with such a predatory glint in his darkened eyes as he fucks his fist slowly - so agonizingly slowly. Eyes locked on you.

Despite cumming not even minutes before, your pussy jumps in anticipation. Immediately reaching over as soon as he’s close enough - as if in a trance - to replace his hand with yours. 

He was big - so mouthwateringly big. Flushed your favorite shade of pink at his leaking tip, pulsing veins glistening in the dim light - every part of Satoru was so unfairly pretty.

So hot and heavy in your hand as you pump him at a steady, methodical pace. Precum smearing on your palm, trailing down your wrist as you pump. Tighter on the base, thumbing teasingly under his slit the way you knew he used to like. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Still remember, huh?” he hisses lowly. Ah, the way he still likes. 

“Mhm.” you hum absentmindedly, thighs clenching together at the way his hips grind in shallow, mindless little motions into your soft hand. Meeting your strokes as if trying to fuck something so delicious out of him.

And, well, you just couldn’t resist a taste. Bending down in one, fluid motion to delicately lick at his angry, hard head. Slightly salty taste on your tongue as you swipe at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. Tracing lightly - ever-so-lightly - down his prominent veins. 

Satoru groans, low and hoarse with desire, “Shit, hah- you don’ ngh- have to-”

“Shut up, Satoru.” 

And with that, you’re shoving down as much as you can of his throbbing erection down your throat. Cunt clenching at the way he hardens impossibly as you choke and gag around him.

“Shit, oh- Oh fuck, m’girl. Yes yes yes-.” Satoru lets out a guttural moan. Fingers threading through your hair as he uses it as leverage to fuck himself slowly, deeper and deeper into your heavenly mouth. Hips stuttering and jerky with pleasure. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Half-delirious and cock-drunk, you take him all the way till your nose was buried in the tufts of white at his toned pelvis, already so wet with saliva and precum. 

Still got it, some smug, utterly debauched part of yourself titters. 

It was dizzying, the way he was pulsing in your throat, his heady scent filling your senses. Beginning to move up and down up and down in hasty, desperate bobs of your head. Pulling such lewd gasps and moans from his lips. 

You moan around Satoru’s thick cock, clawing at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Some truly animalistic part of yourself relishing in the neat, red lines down his milky skin. The sight hazy through the tears that spring to your eyes at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. A relentless, sinful tempo you were steadily losing your mind to.

Messy.  It was so fucking messy.

You just wondered if his orgasm would be the same…

But, alas, one can’t always get what they want. Because Satoru pulls you off of his achingly hard cock with a lewd pop! that rings in his ears and makes your cunt twitch. 

“Shit, sweetheart. Any longer and I’ll have to start thinking about ol’ Prof. Gakuganji to not cum.” he pants through ragged breaths, flashing you a deceptively innocent grin. “Now, lay back and spread ‘em f’me and let me see if your pretty pussy can still handle me.”

And that you don’t argue with. 

It’s almost embarrassing - the way you scramble desperately to sink back into the mattress. Letting Satoru manhandle your legs open so shamefully for him, throwing them over his muscled shoulders. But that’s a problem for the future, not lust-drunk you. 

Right now you couldn’t give less of a fuck as his hungry gaze locks on your glistening pussy. Pausing for just a split-second before spitting once. Twice. Thrice onto your waiting cunt. Making you feel more and more like an object as the warm saliva mixes obscenely with your slick, trickling down to form such a sinful pool on the sheets below. 

And you liked it.

Almost as much as you loved the way Satoru drags his tip along your swollen folds, catching so maddeningly on your clit. Teasingly pooling your slick on his leaking head. It was so sloppy. And too slow. 

“Satoru, I’ve waited five months too long for this. If you’re going to fuck me then fuck me like you mean it.” you grit out, frustration and pure need boiling over within you. 

“Oh? So it’s like that, huh?” 

And maybe you were a mastermind, maybe you were an idiot - probably both. Because Satoru immediately pushes in one, long thrust into your dripping cunt. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as he loses grip on whatever semblance of restraint he had - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. 

Fuck, it feels so heavenly. Oh, how you missed him.

Bowing his body down down down till his damp forehead met yours. Folding you completely underneath him in the way you’ve found that only the smug bastard, Gojo Satoru can. 

You could almost sob at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, borderline insane, and exactly what you’d been trying to deny that you’d been craving all these past five months. Being split apart on his throbbing cock, feeling like you were about to be absolutely devoured underneath him. 

It seems Satoru was just as needy for you, hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump against your walls matching that of your heart thundering against your chest. 

Or was that Satoru’s? At this point you couldn’t even tell. 

“Oh, god yes-, jus’ like that ah shit shit shit-”

“This what you wanted, yeah?” A low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully your walls were milking him as he pulls back. All the way till his leaking tip was just innocently kissing your sloppy hole - only to ram his cock all the way back into your snug cunt. “To be split apart on my cock?” 

Shit, he could just about pass out right now with the way your cunt was sucking him in so greedily like she never wanted to part. 

Guess she missed him too, he thinks deliriously. Not even having to think about it as he starts fucking into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. Pushing himself deeper and deeper into your plushy cunt. 

“Äh- fuck, yeah. S’all I’ve wanted.” you mewl, feeling so vulnerable and exposed under the hungry eyes boring into yours. A dark gleam in them as he grins, “Then take it back.”

Disoriented, you gasp out a strangled, “What?” before Satoru’s hips become rougher, chasing his high as much as yours. 

“What you said at dinner.” your lips fall into a soft oh! as you realize just what he’s talking about, “Admit that no man makes you cum as hard as I do.”

God, you don’t think you could answer even if you wanted to, choking on the harsh, purposeful movements of his hips just to fuck your soul out. 

Heavy balls stinging your skin, the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin fills the heady air. Driving you to insanity. An absolutely unforgiving cadence that has the bed creaking in protest. Ah, whatever, he could buy them a new one anyway if this one just so happens to break.

“Take it back yet?” He had to break you first though.

Slick gushes out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “No.” 

A large hand hastily makes its way down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit. Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier. “How about now?”

“Ah- hngh- oh fuck. Satoru!” You could only moan softly in response, broken whimpers leaving you each time his tip kissed your cervix. Angling his hips just right to expertly brush against that one spot he knew so well would have you keening and bucking up into his cock. Your face almost burns at the sheer familiarity of it all. This bastard knew you too well. 

And something about that made such an uncomfortable, prickly feeling pool in your stomach. 

Something which you knew would only be sated if you looped your arms around his neck. Nails digging into his sculpted back as you pulled him impossibly closer.

Kissing his flushed cheeks as he murmurs, “Take it back, sweetheart.”

Despite the thick cock splitting you in half till you probably couldn’t walk tomorrow morning, you find it in yourself to huff out a soft laugh at the way Satoru’s tone teetered on just that endearing side of sulky. “Fine. You win, Toru.” you whisper into his lips,

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes and Satoru’s lips gently slotting against yours as he fucked you through your high. Acting as if the fucked-out whimper of his nickname is one he’ll never forget. 

As if he couldn’t cum simply from hearing it leave your pretty lips. And he does, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum painting your plushy walls white with a raw groan of your name. It oozes out of your cunt and onto the mess of sheets below as he fucks his seed into you as a lover would. As he would. 

It was intoxicating - everything from the way you milked his cock so sinfully, to the arms tight around his shoulders. Pulling him close, running soothingly along his skin as Satoru collapses onto you with a final, fucked-out thrust. 

And despite being a lightweight, Satoru’s never been so easily drunk off of something than he was off of you. God how he missed this - how he missed you. 

So much so that he can’t put it into words - and probably won’t ever be able to. But it’s alright, because your sticky body snug against his, and Satoru arms tenderly around your waist - but you didn’t mind. Both of you understood.

Satoru traces his fingers lazily along your side, neither of you bothering to tackle the mammoth task of cleaning up for now. Each movement slow and gentle, as if any sudden movement might shatter the delicate balance between you. 

All is quiet in your little haven, and you could almost fall asleep. The most contented one you’ve had in a while - 5 months, 3 weeks, and 7 hours ago to be exact.

But, of course, Satoru can’t keep his mouth shut for nothing. You jolt out of your reverie as he hastily tries to stifle the startled laugh that huffs out of him. Your dazed eyes meet his in the dim lighting, raising a brow in question.

“It’s just…” he starts, voice soft, “You still call me Toru. Feels like home.”

Ah.

You find yourself chuckling softly with him. Heat rushing to your cheeks, burying yourself deeper into his warm chest, to hide the embarrassingly flustered smile breaking out across your face if anything. 

Chuckling, Satoru shifts closer, touch now feather-light against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips. Faltering ever-so-slightly as you mutter out, “Happy anniversary, by the way. I didn’t say it earlier because someone was being a public menace.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that someone locked me out of my own honeymoon suite.” he laughs, drinking in your pretty lil’ smile. 

Ah, you were perfect. As you always were. Satoru can’t help but utter out a little, “Hey, if I tell you something absolutely stupid, would you promise not to make me fish food?”

“Absolutely not.”

He knew you’d say that. So he flashes you an easy grin, a hint of nervousness in it that he’s sure you see through - you always do. 

“So…” he begins, “First thing’s first, I’m thinking of expanding my father’s company further overseas and it might just so happen that I’m leading the branch development and get to pick where exactly.”

God, you made him feel like such a teenager. At your stunned silence, Satoru could barely raise his eyes to meet yours as he plows on, stumbling so uncharacteristically over his words, “You, I picked where you are.”

You’re breathless, words barely audible as his sinks in. “What? Toru that’s-”

“And don’t be mad but you kinda sorta didn’t-win-the-raffle-so-instead-I-planned-this-getaway-when-we-were-together.”

Any and every trace of breathless euphoria leaves your tone as you narrow your eyes at the very guilty Satoru beside you. Fidgeting under your intense scrutiny. Finally - after what seems like an eternity - you find your senses after his whiplash-inducing information dump. 

A hand immediately shoots out to squeeze his side, right where you knew he was dangerously ticklish.

“You sneaky little-” you scold over his laughed out yells of, “Mercy! No murder on our honeymoon!” squirming helplessly beneath you.

“I can’t believe you let me chug all that ice cream.”

“Exactly- hah- help! You w-would’ve been so sad that you ah- didn’t win.” he manages to choke out under your attack.

Finally relenting, only once you’re sure he’ll be feeling the burn of laughter until your flight tomorrow, you release him from your grasp. A satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you lean in close. “You’re lucky I still love you, you smug bastard” you deadpan.

“Aww, you beat me to it.” Satoru whines. Yet he reaches out to cup your cheek, “And I love you,” words hanging in the air like a promise. “With every fiber of my being.”

You let yourself be begrudgingly pulled into his embrace again, hands caressing along your skin like the highest form of worship. Satoru sighs out a contented, “Best honeymoon ever.” 

But of course, you couldn’t help but bully your idiotic boyfriend. “This is not a honeymoon, Toru.” you mutter into his heated skin.

He only presses you closer to him. Yeah maybe not, fingers deftly dancing along your left hand. But maybe next time. 

“Wanna watch the stars and tell me all about that branch development?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but first can you at least unblock me on Gmail now?”

“...”

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 3 weeks, and 12 hours ago. And as for how long it’s been since he won you back - well, you think it might just be one of the few things you didn’t keep count of.

A/N. Based on my vacay at Lily Beach except I didn’t meet my future husband there :0

Plagiarism not authorized.

[prompt-heaven]

the ultimate list of AUs, kinks and tropes to inspire you for kinktober 

some of these are darker in nature since that is fitting for the spooky season. 

AUs

academic / teacher / professor / tutor 

addams family

babysitter / nanny

bartender

biker

bodyguard

bonnie and clyde

bounty hunter

boxer 

camp counselor

circus / carnival

cult 

demon / angel

fairytale retelling

fantasy 

farmer

firefighter

guardian angel 

historical 

hybrid

mafia / mob 

magic 

maid / butler 

mechanic 

modern 

monster / mythology / supernatural

paranormal investigator 

pirate / mermaid

post-apocalyptic

priest

prison

rockstar 

royalty

serial killer

sex worker / porn / camgirl/boy / stripper 

slasher

soulmate

spy / secret agent

steampunk / cyber punk

sugar daddy

tattoo artist 

time travel

treasure hunter 

vampire

werewolf 

wild west

TROPES

a/b/o

against a wall 

age gap

amnesia / memory loss

anonymous sex

balcony sex

boss x employee 

brothers best friend / dad’s best friend (dbf)

car sex

cheating

clothed sex

comforting sex

coworkers to lovers

cursed / fuck or die / sex pollen

dark / soft!dark

enemies to lovers

exes to lovers

fake relationship

forbidden romance

friends to lovers

friends with benefits

game gone wrong

hate sex / make-up sex

huddle for warmth

just the tip

library sex

loss of virginity

mirror sex

neighbours to lovers 

only one bed

opposites attract

period sex

pool / hot tub sex

predator / prey

professor x student

public / semi-public sex

revenge sex

reverse harem

romantic sex

roommates to lovers

rough sex

seduction

sex in an alley

sex in exchange for a favour

sex while camping

shower / bath sex

stalker

stepcest

table sex

unrequited love

yandere

KINKS

aftercare

anal 

begging

being recorded / taking pictures

body worship

dom / sub / bondage / bdsm / shibari

breath play / choking

cheating

cockwarming

corruption kink 

costumes / uniforms

creampie / breeding / forced breeding

cuckolding

cum in panties

cumplay

cunnilingus / face sitting / rimming / blowjob / deep throating / gagging

dacryphillia

dirty talk / voice kink

double penetration / double penetration in one hole 

dry humping / thigh riding 

dubcon / noncon / cnc / drugging

dumbification

exhibitionism / voyeurism

fingering

fisting

flashing 

food play 

footjob 

forced orgasm

formal wear 

free use

glory hole

glove kink 

hand kink

handjob 

hole inspection

humiliation / degradation

hunter / prey

impact play / spanking / whipping / hair pulling / pain kink

jealousy / sharing / possessive

knife kink / gun kink

lingerie / stockings / socks

massage

masturbation / caught masturbating / mutual masturbation

medical kink

monsterfucking / tentacles

multiple orgasms

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

threesome / orgy / gangbang

partner swap 

pegging

piercings

pillow humping

praise kink 

premature ejaculation / cuming untouched

pussyjob

roleplay

role reversal

ruined orgasm / cuming without permission

sensory deprivation 

sexting / phone sex 

facial / swallowing / bukakke

size kink / size difference / belly bulge

skirt stays on

somnophilia / getting fucked to sleep

spit kink

squirting

stripping / lap dance

teasing 

temperature play

thigh fucking

throat training

titty fucking

toys / object insertion 

OTHER PROMPTS

a ritual gone wrong 

a string of unexplained deaths

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

alian abduction 

art come to life

basement wife 

being paralysed 

blackmail 

caught trespassing on private property

college party gone wrong

crazy ex

curiosity killed the cat

fate worse than death

final girl

getting stranded in a little town that’s not as wholesome as it seems

ghostface

halloween party

haunted house / abandoned house 

haunted object 

hitch-hiking gone wrong

hot neighbour that has an obsession with you

i was sent here to assassinate you but now i think i might be in love with you

Items moving and/or going missing

i’ll find you in every universe / century

kidnapping

lost in a maze

mad scientist 

magical healing 

marriage / wedding / arranged marriage/ forced marriage 

mind control / telepathy

mirrors playing tricks on the mind

oh, you had a long day? use me as your personal sex toy in order to unwind

oops, i summoned a demon 

oops, i’m dating a serial killer

playing games (like seven minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, hide and seek, etc.) but they have a slutty/dark twist to them

possession (ghost or demon)

power outage

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

road trip

secret room

serial killers fucking in front of hostages

stalker landlord

stalker wearing the same costume as your partner 

stockholm syndrome

the return of a villain thought dead

torture

toxic frat boy

waking up from strange dreams and seeing bruises and marks on your skin that correspond exactly with the dream you just woke from

we’re the last people on the planet and you will be mine

you wake up strapped to a table just as a fuck machine is turned on

[hoonharem]

recs

📓 all sunghoon, 18+.

tags: smut, fave (★)

—

❕ all are smut and sunghoon x reader (afab).

🔍 full warnings on original posts; read at your own risk.

—

📓 no to minimal plot

» we can’t be friends ★ (421, ex bf!hoon)

» guilty as charged (486, somnophilia)

» now he knows (943, jealous!hoon)

» good guys could never (1.3k, brother’s friend!hoon)

» bratty baby (1.4k, tamer!hoon)

» fuck me like a slut (1.4k, bf!hoon)

» you're on my mind and i want you as mine (1.4k, fwb!hoon)

» insatiable (1.5k, fingering)

» only you (1.6k, jealous!reader)

» you get me so high all the time (1.6k, smoking)

» what are friends for? (1.8k, bff!hoon)

» dangerously (1.8k, bf!hoon, angry sex)

» agora hills (1.9k, idol bf!hoon, somnophilia)

» missed you (1.9k, sub!hoon)

» bestfriend's older brother (1.9k, bff!taesan)

» sample session (2.1k, doctors)

» drip, drip, drip (2.1k, cunnilingus)

» i hate valentine's day (2.1k, bf!hoon)

» pretty boy in glasses, please save me ★ (2.2k, idol!hoon)

» heaven (2.2k, infidelity)

» carnal (2.3k, stepcest, dubcon)

» fuck boy next door (2.7k, tutor!hoon) 1/2

» fuck boy next door (3.3k, tutor!hoon) 2/2

» mine (2.4k, jealous!hoon, ex bf!jake)

» into it (2.6k, frat boy!hoon, fwb)

» all of you (2.7k, bf!hoon)

» subscriber benefits (2.8k, camboy!hoon)

» vacation (2.9k, bf!hoon)

» the lion and the lamb (3k, vampire!hoon)

» pent up (3.2k, idol!hoon, threesome with hee) 1/2

» first and last (3.4k, past love)

» tease (3.5k, possessive!hoon)

» six feet under (3.5k, cheating!hoon)

» okay (3.6k, fwb!hoon, hurt/comfort)

» drawn to you ★ (3.7k, cheating!hoon)

» always and forever (4k, makeup sex)

» cabin fever (4k, bf!hoon)

» conceal (4k, popular!hoon)

» look closely (4k, jealous!hoon)

» car sex (4.3k, street racer!hoon)

» picturesque (4.6k, bf!hoon)

» hard (4.9k, neighbor!hoon, threesome with jay) 1/3

» sweat (5k, neighbor!hoon) 2/3

» mark me yours (5k, idol!hoon, jealousy)

» scream (5k, bf!hoon, horror movie reference) 2/2

» liar, sweetheart (5.1k, twins!hoon, rivals to lovers)

» own little porn star (5.1k, professor!hoon)

» cool with you (5.6k, pervert!hoon)

» little bit of affection (5.7k, manager!hoon)

» bed (7.8k, fiance!hoon)

📓 with plot

» night shift (4.5k, camboy and boss!hoon)

» teach me, please (5.3k, student!hoon) 1/1

» teach me, please (5.1k, student!hoon) 2/2

» are you? (5.7k, bf!hee, reader cheats with hoon) 1/1

» are you mine? (2.5k, ex bf!hee, cheating with hoon) 2/2

» nudes i can't send ★ (6.4k, ex bf!hoon)

» blessed cursed (6.6k, demons, threesome with hee)

» say my name ★ (6.9k, neighbour!hoon, enemies to lovers)

» young, dumb, and full of (8k, pornstars, hyungline!fivesome)

» meddle about ★ (9k, fwb!hoon, threesome with hee) 1/2

» meddle about (with me) ★ (11.9k, fwb!hoon, ex bf!hee) 2/2

» first date etiquette ★ (9.3k, neighbor!hoon)

» forbidden attraction (9.3k, ravenclaw!hoon)

» cross the line (10k, a/b/o, threesome with hee)

» cherry pits (12.9k, dilf!hoon)

» get you better (13.6k, bf!jake, reader cheats with hoon)

» release me, embrace me ★ (15k, a/b/o, bff’s brother!hoon)

» pink whitney ★ (19k, brother's friend!hoon)

» one of the damned girls (20.4k, vampire!hoon)

» i’ll love you forever ★ (21.8k, bff!hoon, fake dating)

» gods and monsters ★ (23k, stepcest, love triangle) 1/3

» heaven and back ★ (24k, stepcest, love triangle) 2.1/3

» serial sweetheart ★ (23.6k, bf!hoon, reader cheats with jake)

» the boy next door trope ★ (26.5k, figure skater!hoon)

» deep end (36.6k, summer fling)

📓 hard thoughts, drabbles, etc.

» 24/7 thinking about you

» dirty girl (phone sex)

» jealous sex

» riding sunghoon's nose

» riding sunghoon's abs

» tired!sunghoon

» sweet bf!sunghoon

» ceo!sunghoon

» husband!sunghoon ★

» exboyfriend!sunghoon

» pussy drunk!sunghoon

» ravenclaw!sunghoon

» ovulating!reader ★

» cheating!reader

» high sex drive!reader

» favorite places to lick

— 📔 hyung line

» shared girlfriend (1.6k, gangbang, bf!hee)

» first time blowjob

» favorite positions

» member guessing by having sex

» cam boys

—

❕ part 2 will be out soon.

[lokiusbang]

Lokius Reverse Bang 2024 masterlist

List of links to art and fics on tumblr and on Ao3 below the cut.

Thanks to all the artists, writers, beta readers and pinch hitters who took part in this event.

Art: Kokomo by @ghoulehhh

Team 1

Fic: Reach Out From The Outside fic by @loki-is-my-kink-awakening

21k. Rated E. Angst, getting together, mystery, rescue, happy ending.

AO3 link

Team 2

Art: Regency AU by @wolfpup026

Fic: Oh, What A Tangled Web We Weave by @lgwilt

46k. Rated M. Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, happy ending, porn with feelings.

AO3 link

Team 3

Art: Fitness Trainer AU by @wolfpup026

Fic: Beats Per Minute by @astrosxnthesis

16k. Rated M. Fitness AU, mutual pining, fluff, getting together.

AO3 link

Team 4

Art: Daggers @rin-love-is-green

Fic: The Daggers @mimisempai

6k. Rated G. Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, reunions, happy ending.

AO3 link

Team 5

Art: Lokius Pixie Hollow by @atimefeeler

Fic: Faith and Trust @scifikimmi

11k. Rated T. Pixie Hollow AU, forest fairy!Mobius, frost fairy!Loki.

AO3 link

Team 6

Art: Pet by @rin-love-is-green

Fic: A Break In The Routine by @in-my-loki-feels

6k. Rated E. Dom/sub, smut, praise kink.

AO3 link

Team 7

Art: Wish Upon A Star by @fauxvvounds

Fic: Wish Upon A Star @dreamycloud

11k. Rated T. Angst, fluff, pining, yearning, happy ending.

AO3 link

Team 8

Art: Snowy Forest by @adorbspotat

Fic: Desperate Measures @cha-melodius

5k. Rated T. Whump, love confessions, first kiss.

AO3 link

Team 9

Art: Dangerous by @peppermintkamz

Fic: We Die With The Dying; We Are Born With The Dead by @andthekitchensinkao3

5k. Rated M. Vampire AU.

AO3 link

Team 10

Art: Closer by @peppermintkamz

Fic: Closer by Rayya76

6k. Rated T. Hurt/comfort, sharing a bed, first kiss, getting together.

AO3 link

Team 11

Art: Aquarium Autumn by @idiotspade

Fic: The Aquarium Date by @waddlesthepenguin07

6k. Rated G. Fluff, humour, romance, friends to lovers.

AO3 link

Team 12

Art: Midnight Animal Crossing by @idiotspade

Fic: New Horizons by @impulsemuppet

11k. Rated G. Sleep deprivation, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, hobby acquisition.

AO3 link

Team 13

Art: Mobius Intervenes in Loki’s Fall by @fla-t-line

Fic: Rescue @rin-love-is-green

12k. Not rated. Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, fix it.

AO3 link

Team 14

Art: Mr Tesseract x Avengers Loki by Alexie

Fic: More Than Your Broken Pieces by @in-my-loki-feels

19k. Rated T. Enemies to lovers, angst, happy ending.

AO3 link

Team 15

Art: Lokius Hanahaki by @natendo-art

Fic: He Loves Me (Not)? by @mirilyawrites

6k. Rated T. Hanahaki disease, angst, happy ending.

AO3 link

Team 16

Art: Let Me Show You by @natendo-art

Fic: Through My Eyes by @thosegayoldmen

11k. Rated E. Body worship, self-worth, porn with feelings.

AO3 link

Team 17

Art: Morning Coffee by @cristinadrawss

Fic: Love In Every Cup by @in-my-loki-feels

7k. Rated G. Feelings realisation, fluff, humour, coffee.

AO3 link

Team 18

Art: Challenge by @cristinadrawss

Fic: The Challenge by @andthekitchensinkao3

5k. Rated E. Porn with feelings, cunnilingus, puns.

AO3 link

Team 19

Art: How Could You Not Know by @upsidedownbronco

Fic: Mixed Signals by @kcscribbler

13k. Rated T. Idiots in love, emotional hurt/comfort, didn’t know they were dating.

AO3 link

Team 20

Art: Broken by @asoeiki

Fic: Would It Be A Sin? by @megglesthegeek

6k. Rated T. priest!Mobius, demon!Loki, blood, angst, happy ending.

AO3 link

Team 21

Art: The Wedding by @spacemonolith

Fic: Under A Green Arch by @loki-is-my-kink-awakening

5k. Rated G. Fluff, wedding, family.

AO3 link

Team 23

Art: Sakaar Arena by @okilokiwithpurpose

Fic: I Know I’m Stuck Here (But At Least I’m Here With You) by @illiasha

22k. Rated G. gladiator!Mobius, Sakaar, angst, hurt/comfort.

AO3 link

Team 24

Art: Reunion by @albatheowl

Fic: Please Try (Your Call) Again by @kcscribbler

29k. Rated T. Fix-it, angst, happy ending, reunions.

AO3 link

Team 25

Art: What If Sylvie Enchanted Loki? by @fla-t-line

Fic: Chasing After You by an_obsessed_cactus

22k. Rated T. Angst, mind control, hurt/comfort, first kiss.

AO3 link

Team 26

Art: Broken Pieces by @kusakichan15

Fic: Holsted On by MsLm_97

29k. Rated T. Major character death, mystery, ambiguous/open ending.

AO3 link

Team 27

Art: The Timeline of Lokius by @forevertrueblue

Fic: In A Sky Full Of Stars, I Think I See You by @silentxsymphony

8k. Rated T. Fluff, angst, fix-it, happy ending.

AO3 link

Team 28

Art: Missions In The West by @mischivarien

Fic: Tranquility, Oklahoma, 1859 by @scifikimmi

13k. Rated T. Wild west, sheriff!Mobius, outlaw!Loki.

AO3 link

[paceprompting]

2025 Fanfic Reading Challenge: March & April

0/15 categories done

0/15 category challenges done

25/250 tasks done

Challenge Mode Completed: Participant

Word Count Challenge Completed: 1 million

Fics read:

Let Life Be Like Music by feuxx, Slanted Knitting | Merthur | E | modern au, pianist!Arthur, violinist!Merlin, anxious recluse Arthur falls for his neighbor through the wall

I'm Wanted (Dead or Alive) by CaptainnAustralia | Steddie | E | post season 4, murder mystery, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, murders mystery and mayhem in the late 80s

To the Highest Bidder, a Fake Dating Caper! by RedFive | Superbat | E | fake/pretend relationship, brat bruce wayne aka brucie wayne, fighting as foreplay

to memory now I can't recall by Etharei | Stucky | E | time travel/loop au, modern era and world war II, identity porn, bucky is in love with steve in any era

A Big Black Sky by alexmeg | Drarry | M | canon divergent au, post battle of hogwarts, kid fic, angst, hurt/comfort, parent draco malfoy, godparent harry potter, dark themes

The Scroll and the Sword by Elizabeth | Merthur | M | library au, enemies to lovers, mythology and folklore, beltane, sharing a bed, adventures and smut

Muzzled Memory by thelittlestpurplecat | Stucky | E | canon divergent au, steve never became captain america, bucky still becomes winter solider, angst and porn with feelings

Swift to Hear by FabulaRasa | Superbat | E | crack and fluff, clark's superhearing gets him in trouble, and then gets him a boyfriend, bruce doesn't listen to his own feelings

That Which We Call a Rose by arysteia | Superbat | E | identity porn, spread out time line, batman and superman and clark and bruce keep meeting for the first time without realizing it

Swallowing sleep by Sadstateofaffairs | Steddie | E | abo au, alpha!eddie, omega!steve, sub top eddie, soft dom steve, falling in love over coffee and making sandwiches, friends with benefits, unplanned mpreg, happy ending

Diary of a Lonely Housewife series by TimmyJaybird | TimKon, Tim/others | E | 1950s au, housewife!Tim, genderfluid Tim, infidelity, various sex situations and kinks

she bit your neck and I liked that by QueerOnTilMorning | Chrissy/Eddie/Steve | E | no upside down au, pwp, dom chrissy, sub eddie, steve's happy to be invited

Third Wheel by 419Jhat | Chrissy/Eddie/Steve | E | pwp, dom chrissy, cunnilingus competition, and then more

Dom Eddie Week series by SergeantSqueegee | Steddie, Corroded Coffin/Eddie, Chrissy/Eddie/Steve, Eddie/Hopper | E | various situations with dom Eddie leading the way to fun sexy times

voices in my head, voices in my heart by elementalblue | Chrissy/Eddie/Steve | E | modern au, playful sex, reading aloud from sexy book

@fanfic-reading-challenge

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 36

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

Welcome to my bi-weekly fic rec list! This is everything I read in the last two weeks. There's some seriously amazing shit on this list, y'all. If I counted properly there are 9 fics, two of which are series.

All info provided by the author unless it was blank, in which case I filled it in.

Punish me, Officer Djarin

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

You've been thrown into an imperial prison for anti-empire speech. During your sentence, a new prison guard is hired, Officer Djarin, and you take a liking to him.

f!reader, reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, uneven power dynamic, brat taming, degradation (scumbag), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, his glove in your mouth lol, no use of y/n

To Tell You the Truth

Ezra series by @concussed-to-pieces

Our story begins in the Green, after a certain meeting that culminates in an explosive Truxican standoff...

Survival, Worldbuilding, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Healing, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Extreme Duress, My First Work in This Fandom, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Past Abuse, Feelings Realization, Artist Reader, Reader is a prospector, Outer Space, Sharing a Bed, Roommates, Mutual Pining, Vaginal Fingering, Praise Kink (if you squint), Religious Terms used improperly, Catholics H8 Me, Remember, no man's penis will heal you okay, and fanfictions are not research, But I'm an indulgent fuck so it's okay, Vaginal Sex, big dick energy, Eventual Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Just get it all in there, adoration, Very Flowery Terminology, Happy Ending

Sanguine

Ezra one shot by @marisferasiop

since being turned as a boy into- whatever liminal state of cryptid he is now- Ezra has walked this earth ageless and alone, never finding his place or a partner for long. He interrupts your meal in the city one evening, and brings you home to strike up a deal; feed from him, alone, and keep one another safe from discovery. The fact that he finds his purpose under the soft graze of your teeth and home between your thighs is a nice side effect.

lots of blood, smut, soft yearning sweet boy Ezra, mapuche mythology and monsters, schmoop. Ezra is a subby little sap in this.

Routine

Frankie one shot by @endlessthxxghts

Frankie makes a new routine for himself to help with his mental health. In that routine, Frankie stumbles upon you.

POV switching - stops towards the end, then POVs are combined. Friends to lovers. Slightly scared and reluctant friends to lovers. Slow burn. Canon divergent to Frankie’s Triple Frontier storyline (No history of lady or child for Frankie). Brief mentions of South America and Frankie’s mental health. Brief therapy talk. Overthinking!Frankie, but Reader comforts and reassures him. He’s not insecure the entire time, promise lolol. Hints of angst, but this is me we’re talking about — always will be a happy ending here🫶. No physical description of reader besides coffee shop uniform (no size descriptions used) - any descriptions are neutral, no adjectives to describe (purely things like “your thigh” etc.). No use of “y/n”. SMUT heheheh (making out, cunnilingus + fingering, unprotected P in V sex + cumming inside, breast worship/titty sucking).

Go Your Own Way

Javi P one shot by @schnarfer

Loving you isn’t the right thing to do

1979 Texas, very toxic relationship, sort of enemies to lovers if you squint a bit, absolutely no happy ending for our fuckboy Javier, no descriptions of reader except she has hair and there are outfit references, no specific ages mentioned in 1979 but they would both be early 20’s, Cheating/infidelity mentioned, smoking (OF COURSE), mention of drinking and drugs, two mentions of vomit, the good stuff? we’ve got flirting, kisses and smut; protected PIV, oral (f receiving), fingering, very light dirty talk, couple of light slaps, pet names (cariño, baby), Javier POV, I’ve tried to remove any overt British-isms but some may have slipped in, probably a bit of canon divergence, as well as wild historical and geographical inaccuracies but we’re going for vibes, yeah? and a note, we’re always Fleabag coded here.

Some fools fool themselves

Javi P one shot by @freelancearsonist

You were meant to be a mission—an insider that Javi could wring information from on some of the biggest names in the trade. It didn’t go to plan, but maybe that’s not so bad.

Rated MA for unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this irl pls), oral (m receiving), throatfucking, handjobs, creampie, spanish dirty talk (both javi and reader - translations in footnotes), reader has female anatomy and uses fem pronouns, reader wears a bikini, smoking/nicotine use, cheating (reader is married this is the mob wife fic you all asked for), kind of angsty but mostly just porn with the slightest sprinkling of plot for ✨flavor✨

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight

Marcus P one shot by @whataperfectwasteoftime

I am a visitor here. I am not permanent.

angst, breakups, mentions of Teresa x Patrick Jane

Cabuorir

Oberyn/Din/Reader series by ToricTailor (AO3)

You would have torn the heavens asunder to stop it.

Fix-It, That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), Get This Man A New Ship, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Reader sandwich, Force-Sensitive Reader, Polyamory, DVP, more

I want it, I got it

Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

Joel gives you unlimited access to his credit card to shop online while he eats you out.

reader is able-bodied, no outbreak AU, porn with little plot, no age specified for reader, reader sits on Joel’s lap, established sugar daddy relationship, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, squirting, pet names (angel, baby), no use of y/n

Happy Reading!

[o0-iris-0o]

Luminous | Xiao x [F] Reader

Description: After months of isolation and endless work, your friend insists on taking you out for a night of music and escape. But a stranger at the bar has an offer that might take your life in an unexpected direction.

Warnings: Dark Themes | NSFW | 18+

Chapter: 14/29

V AO3 Tags Below V

Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Major Character Death | Dead Dove: Do Not Eat | Dark Fiction | Horror Themes | Depression | Anxiety | Angst | Emotional | Crying | Involuntary Medical Procedures | Blood | Needles | Injections | Vomiting | Captivity | Yandere Themes | Physical Altercations | Drugs | Drug Use | Alcohol | Intoxication | Gangs | Guns | Combat | Action | Romance | Enemies to Lovers | Cuddling and Snuggling | Fluff | Smut | Plot with Porn | Vaginal Fingering | Vaginal Sex | Oral Sex | Cunnilingus | Blow Jobs | Sex on Drugs | Bloodplay | Knifeplay | Hair Pulling | Rough Sex | Gentle Sex | Dom Xiao | Alatus (Genshin Impact) | Aftercare | Reader-Insert | Reader is Not Traveler | POV First person | Alternate Universe - Future | Diluc Cameo

< CH. 13 | CH. 15 >

Chapter 14

With heavy lids, my gaze scans the familiar space before me. The blinds are drawn across the massive glass panes, blocking the golden rays of sun that seep through each vertical slat, casting an amber haze over the room. The unusual array of colors tracing various surfaces has become an ordinary sight, though it still manages to captivate my senses as the room dips—left, then right.

These sensations have become commonplace, a normal occurrence that I’ve gradually come to accept and enjoy, though it didn’t take much persuasion in the end. Its weightless grasp is easy enough to welcome compared to the anchor that is reality. However, this lightness makes the tension constricting around my rib cage all the more noticeable.

Tilting my head downward, I notice the damp hair sticking to my face as I observe my bare body nestled between a pair of legs. The tension squeezing my abdomen is caused by the firm hold of two arms. As I look around at the plush bedding surrounding us, the grip tightens with my movements, pressing my body against the person behind me and forcing the air from my lungs.

Beads of water roll down my face, and I use my unsteady eyes to look around. My gaze catches on three syringes, empty of any substance, scattered across the bed beside a wrinkled bath towel. But my focus quickly returns to my lungs, struggling to collect air, and a whine escapes my throat as I try to gain his attention. “Xiao—”

Suddenly, a hand clasps around my mouth, silencing me, followed by a soft hush. The room quickly grows silent again, and the weight on my shoulder steadily lifts as Xiao raises his head, his cheek grazing mine as he releases a depleted breath. “You can’t even begin to imagine how exhausted I am, Y/N… can’t imagine how long I’ve waited���just for everything to go… so wrong…” he says with a shudder, seemingly breaking under the weight of each word.

“It’s as if the universe itself is toying with me, as if this were all some sick joke. If only you knew—if only you could just… remember, you’d share my grief, I know it.” His hand slips from my mouth, clutching either side of my jaw before listlessly resting around my neck. A few droplets splatter against my chest as he inhales a shaky breath. “But I’ve accepted all your new, pestering traits, fixed your lingering affliction, and still… they continue to try and take you away from me. Why?!”

Struggling to grasp my awareness, my head nods forward in a daze, taking the weight of my body with it, when Xiao fixes his arm around my abdomen again, securing me against him. His hold tightens, though he allows me space to breathe as I listen to him continue.

“When I first saw you, I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but the moment I heard your voice—it was as if you had never left my side. All those empty years that dragged on were over within seconds, and the only thing I wanted was to take you into my arms and never let you go, ever again…”

Holding me against him, the moist skin of my back adheres to his exposed chest, but in this state, the discomfort is hardly a thought. It’s simply an acknowledgment that fades into acceptance within seconds.

“Trust me,” he goes on. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days locked in this room with you, indulging in your embrace for the rest of time. But I have too much that I still need to fix, and if I don’t, I’ll lose you… again.”

Suddenly, his hands shift to my waist, and he helps me turn around to face him. One of his hands comes to rest against my cheek, caressing my skin with his thumb. As I gaze into his reddened eyes, tears stream down, and an ache stabs at my chest.

“Soon, there will be a time when I’m no longer here with you. You’ll probably be confused and scared. Maybe even angry beyond belief with me. But I need you to trust me.” He tries to force a smile but fails, his expression overwhelmed by sorrow. “Do you trust me?”

Even before the words leave his mouth, tears are already streaming down my own face now, though I hardly understand my reason for crying.

“I—” I stammer, what he said is already slipping from my mind, but I grasp the few words I can remember and answer, “I’m… scared and confused now…”

Sobbing, I’m suddenly pulled in, his arms encircling me tightly. “Please, don’t be,” he says beside my ear. “I swear, I’ll fix this. I’ll always protect you, even if it costs me my life. It’s the least I can do…”

The room grows quiet, all but my choked sobs, as Xiao’s hold keeps me anchored to him. I bring my arms up, wrapping them around him as he rests a hand on my head, patting at my hair until my cries soften and eventually cease. We sit silently, neither of us breaking away from the other, until Xiao speaks up softly.

“You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, you know that?”

Though his words hardly resonate with me. “I’m… not,” I answer shortly.

“Don’t say that... You’ve been through so much, so many unimaginable things, yet you're still here. You may not realize it, but your soul is resilient. I’ve never seen anything like it,” he says, now gazing at me. “I’ve always admired that about you.”

With my drowsiness slowly lifting, my embrace tightens, and I linger in his gaze, hesitant, before I lean forward, softly pressing my lips to his. He accepts the gesture, reciprocating. However, he gradually pulls away, and yet I find my way back, leaning my weight into him until he takes me back, reclining against the plush bedding and pillows.

A single hand runs down my back, his fingers tracing along my spine, and his touch noticeably weaker than usual. He allows me to part his lips, only slightly, in an attempt to deepen our kiss, but he soon skims away, pressing his lips against my cheek instead. His saddened eyes then meet mine, and he whispers, “You have no idea how much I love you…”

I attempt to give him a soft smile, and say, “Neither do you.”

A silent pause descends, either of us remaining unmoved. Suddenly, his arms coil, and I’m spun down to the mattress, our positions swapping as our lips connect once again. Dragging my arms behind him, I pull against his weight, the excess gap between our bodies closing.

His teeth lazily sink into my lip, the gesture laced with sensuality as I notice his hips delicately pressing into mine. I mirror his actions, displaying my desire as well, when Xiao breaks away momentarily, pulling back to mutter, “Don’t~ Just let me handle everything…”

Within moments, the only article of clothing adorning my body slips down past my ankles, as does his respectively. His bare hips then press into mine with an intentional softness, and the fine amount of friction warms the rising heat within me. Fragile kisses trail down to my jawline, then further, peppering my neck until the sharp point of his teeth sinks into my skin, as does his length, pushing into the warmth. There’s hardly an ounce of discomfort between the two as I begin to melt against him.

Working his way in, inch by inch, my breath hitches when tender, rhythmic strokes take over. A hand slips beneath my back, the other coming to cradle behind my head, nudging me into the curve of his shoulder where I partially bury my face.

I cling to him, the affectionate massages felt within cause my legs to tangle with his, and I savor every languid motion as we’re practically raveled together. Eventually our subdued huffs and pants start to fill the room, and an unmistakable serenity dissolves my nerves. I lose myself in the mild sway, closing my eyes, and allowing Xiao full control as his body easily heightens my high.

Just then, I feel his hands slip down, grasping at either side of my hips, and propping my lower half up slightly, hovering just above the mattress. At such an angle, he slips deeper, burying his length in the slick warmth until there’s hardly any room left, and his thrusts grow heavier with long deliberation.

My cheeks begin to burn as I gasp for breath, heat pooling in unimaginable depths as muscles tighten and contract around him. He then takes initiative, pulling my hips into each of his thrusts, and the added motion elicits the coiling tension to pull taught. Unable to suppress it, the warm fluid gushes, and the fluttering strain floods me briefly before subsiding, leaving my mind with the lingering tranquility. It’s then that Xiao’s weight lifts from my upper body as he sits back on his knees, though remains fixed inside.

He grasps at the underside of my thighs, lifting my legs from the mattress, parts them, then drives his length in once more. From above, his lust-filled gaze fixates on where our bodies connect as he adopts a hurried, erratic rhythm, stuffing his way in and using the extra slick to his advantage. His lips part, searching for air as he chases his own climax, his teeth barely gnawing into his lip.

I simply watch as his hips repeatedly slam into mine, his bare body sticky with sweat that undoes the work of the presumably previous shower. He pulls me into every thrust, until his hips stutter, and his length throbs against my insides, pulsing and spilling himself within. My legs slip from his shaky hands, falling against the soft sheets as Xiao looms above, simply glaring down at me, wearily, as our gazes meet, and he huffs for air.

Carefully, he slips his way out, then collapses by my side. His arm drapes across my midriff, dragging me into his grasp. I watch as his eyes flit shut, then inch myself closer until I’m curled up against his body, burying myself into his embrace.

< CH. 13 | CH. 15 >

[bug-decal-kissing]

Hey friends!

Pillows, by chaosTT, was updated today, with 2/7 Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Alternate Universe - Personality Swap, Lawful joke (Alternate Universe), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Complicated Relationships, Denial of Feelings, Acceptance, Human disguise, Investigations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, Emotional Baggage, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Grief/Mourning, Confessions, Mutual Pining, Insecurity, Mentions of Death, Prism is Bad at Feelings, Everyone Needs A Hug, sensory issues, i thinkmild harassment, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, Not Beta Read, Mentions of Jake the Dog, Mentions of Orbo, Mentions of Cosmic"

You can read it here:

Time Room Shenanigans + More, by DrakianDH, was updated today, with 10/? Chapters released! It has a rating of General Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff without Plot, Oneshot Prompts Challenge, One Shot Collection, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Angst and Feels, Alternate Universe - Human, Kinda, It's really just a big collection or random stuff I made for January's Writing challene, frick spelling btw, Prohibited wish - Freeform, PWish, No Plot/Plotless, Some Plot, Maybe - Freeform, idk - Freeform"

You can read it here:

NSFW works are below the cut :].

The Ghostwriter, by Inna_94, was updated today, with 9/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Mature and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Alternate Universe - Human, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, References to Depression, Anxiety, Grief/Mourning, Trigger warnings when necessary"

You can read it here:

A new work, lewdity times three by ineedlemonade, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Explicit Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Blindfolds, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, Marathon Sex, Gay Sex, Trans Male Character, temporary amputation, Teasing, Smut, Non-Human Genitalia, Dom/sub Undertones, Affection, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, Tentacle Dick"

You can read it here:

Tense, by a_pigeon, was updated today, with 3/3 Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "human prismo, Out of Character, Smut, Cunnilingus, Coming Untouched, Alien Biology, Scarab's got a an alien cock, and an alien pussy, Prismo has a cock, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Bottom Scarab (Adventure Time), Top Prismo, Praise Kink, Subspace, Tags May Change, Begging, Stress Relief, Hand Jobs, Aftercare, Making Out, Crying"

You can read it here:

[firstprince-ao3feed]

the wrong place

by congee4lunch “I don’t want you, I don’t want anything to do with you, Alexander,” Henry breathes out, his breath ghosting over Alex’s lips. “I just want to feel good.” “Perfect,” Alex grins. “I want the exact same thing, Fox.” henry and alex hate each other. when they're forced to share a hotel room and a bed for a night, they fuck about it. Words: 12825, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Intersex Omegas, Only One Bed, Hate Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Facials, Dirty Talk, Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Omega Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alpha Alex Claremont-Diaz, Belly Bulge via https://ift.tt/Ny7sZdY

[rwrbhistoryhuhmv]

the wrong place

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/TJr58CD by congee4lunch “I don’t want you, I don’t want anything to do with you, Alexander,” Henry breathes out, his breath ghosting over Alex’s lips. “I just want to feel good.” “Perfect,” Alex grins. “I want the exact same thing, Fox.” henry and alex hate each other. when they're forced to share a hotel room and a bed for a night, they fuck about it. Words: 12834, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Intersex Omegas, Only One Bed, Hate Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Facials, Dirty Talk, Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Omega Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alpha Alex Claremont-Diaz, Belly Bulge, Choking read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/TJr58CD

[rwarbhistoryhuh]

the wrong place

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/ROkG8lo by congee4lunch “I don’t want you, I don’t want anything to do with you, Alexander,” Henry breathes out, his breath ghosting over Alex’s lips. “I just want to feel good.” “Perfect,” Alex grins. “I want the exact same thing, Fox.” henry and alex hate each other. when they're forced to share a hotel room and a bed for a night, they fuck about it. Words: 12825, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Intersex Omegas, Only One Bed, Hate Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Facials, Dirty Talk, Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Omega Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alpha Alex Claremont-Diaz, Belly Bulge read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/ROkG8lo

[ao3feed-wandamaximoff]

Inannas Tears

by bookwo_rmy You despised working with the Avengers, so when you were paired with Wanda Maximoff for the mission, you were anything but excited. Her constant cheeriness and naivety was beyond frustrating. The mission was intel gathering only. You needed to figure out what drug they had created and were planning to distribute. Only, the effects of that drug were nothing like either of you had expected. OR: Shameless smut involving sex pollen, enemies to lovers, and sharing a bed. Words: 4020, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Reader Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Reader Additional Tags: Smut, Sex Pollen, Aphrodisiacs, Enemies to Lovers, one bed trope, Shameless Smut, Porn With Plot, Undercover Missions, Light Dom/sub, Dom Wanda Maximoff, Top Wanda Maximoff, Daddy Kink, begging kink, Cunnilingus, magic dildo, magic sex, Squirting, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay, no y/n, No Beta via https://ift.tt/solcA0Q

[ao3feed-hockey]

Six

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/9foYhG4

by waytoovibey

Team Canada goes up against the United States for the Women's World Championship.

Jamie learns that maybe the real reason she hates a girl on the opposing team so much is because she likes her.

Words: 14870, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Men's Hockey RPF

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Jamie Drysdale, Trevor Zegras, Dawson Mercer, Kirby Dach, Quinton Byfield, Dylan Holloway, Dylan Cozens, Jakob Pelletier, WJC 2021 Team Canada Ensemble, Cole Caufield, Alex Turcotte

Relationships: Jamie Drysdale/Trevor Zegras, background Cole Caufield/Kirby Dach

Additional Tags: Rule 63, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Face-Sitting, Girls Kissing, Internalized Homophobia, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, Drinking, Sharing a Bed, Rivalry, Rivals With Benefits, Hockey, Minor Injuries, Gals being pals, chocolate cake, Jamie is really in her head, Dawson Mercer is a good friend, Play Fighting

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/9foYhG4

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Now Presenting...

Starring Frat Boy!Sukuna and Virgin!Reader

A modern day college AU in which the reader is a young adult just now starting to shrug off their sheltered youth. And Sukuna is more than excited and willing to help lift that burden off your shoulders. Warning: this fic contains smut, loss of virginity, drinking, enemies to lovers, fingering, cunnilingus, semi-public sex, use of pet names and unprotected sex. Reader discretion is Advised ;p

Honestly, you really could not believe you dated this dunce. You remembered the break up like a trauma. Staring at his popcorn ceiling as he told you he simply couldn’t get past the fact you didn't want to sleep with him. He didn’t want to be with a prude. At the time, it crushed you. But now, as you sat at your desk, pouring red ink over every love letter he ever sent you, you couldn’t help but feel thankful you didn’t lose your virginity to him.

“What are you doing?” Your roommate asked as she walked into your shared dorm.

“Grading my ex’s love letters.” You said without looking away from your task. The awkward beat of silence that followed proved that she was not expecting that answer.

“Why?” She asked. You simply shrugged. To grieve, you guessed? 

“I felt the overwhelming need to correct his grammar.” You could hear her ask why again before she asked it. “I plan on sending them back.”

“You really need to get laid.” Your roommate laughed.

“He hasn’t gotten higher than a d on any of these.” You muttered, “A d Mei.”

“You need some D” Mei chuckled, going and sitting on her bed. “I could get you laid ya know.”

“I don't want to get laid.” You reminded her. That wasn’t quite true. You did want to get laid, you just wanted to do it on your own terms and you didn’t think that was a lot to ask for!

“Well do you wanna come to a party with me tonight?” Mei asked with a smug smirk. “Alpha Beta Omega house is hosting a party tonight, you should come! ABO has all the hottest guys ya know.” You did know, and while the thought was rather enticing, you were never really big on partying. You came to college to get your degree for fucks sake!

“I don’t know Mei,” you sighed, “I hate parties…”

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun!” Mei tried to sell it. “Please! Don’t let me go alone, that would be a dick move, ya know?” She pouted, giving you the puppy dog eyes that roped you into every party you had been to since starting school. You sighed in irritation, knowing it was useless to keep fighting.

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

♥️♥️♥️

Ryomen had no fucking idea what he was thinking when he signed up for an 8 am class, but if he could kick his past self’s ass, he would. He didn’t think he had been on time for this class even once. He tried everything to wake himself up. Putting his phone on the other side of the room, sleeping with the curtains open, drinking vodka instead of whiskey, all of it was about as effective as putting dry socks on a drowning man. 

He walked into class already twenty minutes late. He felt all eyes fall on him, which was fair considering he had interrupted the lecture. He ignored it though, confidently and nonchalantly walking to the nearest empty chair. A chair that just so happened to be next to you. 

You felt your heart do level 11 gymnastics in your chest as the Ryomen Sukuna sat next to you. You hated how attracted you were to him. He was everything your parents had ever forbid you from going near. 6 '4 and nothing but a wall of muscle, you couldn’t help but feel like his face full of sharp tattoos just emphasized how soft his puppy-dog-eyes were. It made you want to run your fingers through his soft pink hair. 

Suddenly, your keyboard had become the most interesting thing in the world. Your eyes burned holes into your computer as you prayed that Ryomen wouldn’t look at you, or worse talk to you. You found him attractive, yea, but you also knew he was bad news. He was a member of the ABO fraternity and was known for being a womanizing piece of shit who often defaulted to calling you “woman” when he forgot your name. The man was a walking talking red flag factory and to desire him was to desire madness and hurt. You should want nothing to do with him.

And yet.

“Hey, do you have the notes?” Ryomen asked, looking at you from the corners of his eyes and ho-ly shit. Fuck whatever the fuck the professor was going on about, you now had his full attention. He fully turned to you, taking you all in. If Ryomen had to describe his dream woman, he would simply pull up a picture of you. A reluctant innocence clung to you, begging him to find the delinquent underneath it all. He didn’t know what he was thinking, signing up for an 8 am class, but he would kiss his past self if he could.

“Yea, for sure.” You muttered, biting your lip as you pulled up your email. He showed you his laptop so you could get his email straight from the source, and thanks to technology, he had the notes in seconds.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” He smiled, showing his unusually sharp canines. You thought that you were done with this interaction, thankfully, but then he kept going. “So, are you going to the ABO party tonight?”  He asked. 

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, “Parties aren’t really my thing.” Of course, you probably spent most of your life sheltered, too scared to disappoint your parents to ever rebel. Ryomen wanted your rebellion more than he wanted to pass his finals. 

“You should go,” Ryomen whispered, “I bet you’d be really popular.”

“Yea, and by that you mean men would be drooling over how bad they want to fuck me, right?” You scoffed, forgetting yourself. He did in fact mean that by the way, but this response from you is not what he expected. You kept him on his toes. You intrigued him. “Now, just why do you think I’d want that?” You asked.

“So you’re worried about creepy dudes?” Ryomen asked, raising an eyebrow. “Alright then, Come with me then. Be my date.” He smiled that fang filled smile that was quickly burning its way into your heart.

“No.” You said plainly.

“Oh come on,” he damn near begged, “You get to go and have fun without the fear of creeps, because I’ll be protecting you, and I get to show up with a beautiful woman on my arm, it’s a win-win!” You weren’t sure when it happened, but class had ended and others were leaving.

“And just how do you plan to protect me from creepy guys when you are the creepy guy?” You challenged.

“By out creeping them.” Okay, even you had to admit that was funny. Ryomens smile widened as he realized he had gotten you to laugh. He won. 

“Ryomen, let’s go!” Someone called for him. Ryomen looked to the door and found his friends standing there waiting for him, Geto looking particularly annoyed. “We’re going to be late for class.” Geto said, annoyance dripping from him. 

He quickly scribbled down his number into his notebook, ripping the page and putting it on your computer. “Just think about it and call me, yea? I’m excited to take you.” He winked as he rushed to join his friends. 

You stared at the number for a few seconds after he left. You felt like the number was taunting you, yes, but also enticing you. It showed you a night of fun, excited passion that you had never experienced before but so desperately missed. It showed you a taste of freedom and rebellion. Doing something bad, knowing it was bad, and doing it anyway because it was so intoxicating. It showed you everything you wanted and more. 

You threw it in the trash on your way out the door.

♥️♥️♥️

You sighed as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The white tennis skirt Mei Mei had picked out was far shorter than you wanted, and the pink sweater was far tighter. You tried to put on a pair of stockings to compensate for the shortness of the skirt, but, all they did was accentuate your legs. You couldn’t believe Mei had convinced you to go to this stupid party. 

I mean, you could. It wasn’t hard, she offered to do your calculus homework for a week, you would have killed your mother to get out of having to do calculus for a week. But when you agreed to let her pick out the outfit, you had never expected—or prepared—to wear something so….

Sexy. That's the word you had been looking for, you looked sexy. You had never really dressed up before, sweatpants and t-shirts were typically your uniform. You were surprised at the way your body worked for you when you let it.

“Are you ready yet?!” Mei asked 

“Yea, I’m coming.” You said, finally pulling yourself away from the mirror and joining Mei by the door. She gave you another once over, smiling in satisfaction as she did. The outfit she’d picked out had really come together. 

“You look good,” She nodded. 

“Thanks,” You shrugged, trying to hide your slight embarrassment. You weren’t used to compliments. Mei nodded one last time before ushering you out the door. 

“Hey, Mei?” You asked as the two of you started the walk to the ABO Frat house. 

“What’s up Y/n?” She asked.

“You’re not going to leave me alone, right? Like, we’re actually gonna hang out and protect each other tonight?” Mei gave you the warmest, most reassuring smile you had ever seen.

“Of course Y/n. I won’t leave your side for even a second.”

♥️♥️♥️

You regretted every decision you had ever made in your life that led to you coming to this party. The music was way too loud, the drinks were way too strong (thanks Nanami), and the people were way too obnoxious. Mei had abandoned you almost the moment the two of you had walked in the door, making you realize you really needed to get better friends. It wouldn’t have been that bad, except some asshole that smelled like corpse had decided, against your will, he was taking you home tonight.

He wouldn’t leave you alone. You’d tried everything, complete disinterest, telling him you had a boyfriend, hell even telling him you were gay! Nothing would deter him. You even tried to go to the bathroom to try and lose him and he just fucking waited for you outside the bathroom door. This Mahito motherfucker was really starting to freak you out.

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” The ragdoll yelled in your ear, sending a fog of rotten breath over your face. You didn’t hide the disgust you felt as you looked for an out— any—to get out of this situation. 

“What do you say you and I get outta here?” He asked. As he did, he put a singular hand on your waist. The moment he did, your head filled with sirens and screaming, every true crime podcast you had ever heard, willingly or not, replayed through your head and you were never more sure that this man had women tied up in his basement. Your adrenaline spiked as you looked for any way to get him to properly fuck off.

Ah-ha!

“Babe!” You yelled, all smiles and cheer as you ripped yourself away from Mahito and ran to Ryomen. Mahito followed, like the idiot he was, but this time you somehow knew you’d be fine. Ryomen looked confused at first, then noticed the corpse walking with you and it all clicked. He smiled back at you, more warmly than you ever expected, 

“Hey! Babygirl!” He called out, holding out his arm so you could bury yourself into his side. The girl he was talking to was very very confused, but decided to remove herself from the situation before she got caught up in any drama. Shout out to her.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, where’ve you been?” He asked, leaning down and kissing your forehead to really sell it. You considered slapping him, but, figured that would break the illusion, so you settled for giggling instead. 

“I’ve been trying to get rid of this creep.” You said, your eyes darting from Mahito to Ryomen in a very Help Me way. Ryomen looked at Mahito and all of the warmth instantly left him. It sent chills up your spine to watch him go from joking smiles to cold stares. The light left his eyes as they narrowed and you were sure his features somehow got sharper. Or maybe that was the tattoos.

“Have you been fucking with my girl?” he asked. The emphasis he put on “mine” sent chills of a different kind through you. Oh, you liked that. You really liked that. You pressed your thighs together to try and take your mind off the feelings between them, and took a drink of your vodka redbull to try and cool down. It didn’t work. 

“Well, I- I mean, I-” 

“I-I-I.” Sukuna mocked, “You didn’t have any trouble talking to my girlfriend all night, why’re you having trouble now?” Danger radiated off of Sukuna like a match in a room full of methane, waiting to be lit. It was the kind of danger that drew you in, no matter how much you resisted. It felt inevitable. “Come on man, if you’re going to be a fucking creep you might as well say it with your chest.”

“I’m not a creep!” Mahito tried to argue.

“That's not what she said,” Ryomen said, holding you just a little bit tighter, sending sparks throughout your body again. “So what, you’re calling her a liar?”

“Well, no, I-”

“You say I alot.” Sukuna said, taking a sip of his drink to really show off his disinterest. “You know what I think?” He asked. “I think that you should get the fuck out and go the fuck home before I rip your larynx out of you via your asshole.” He threatened. It was such a ridiculous tough guy line that normally you would have laughed, but, somehow he sold it hook, line, and sinker. You could see that fact alone in the now bleached white face of Mahito. 

Sukuna looked into his cup, determining he was going to need a refill. “You have exactly 45 seconds to leave before I turn you into pie filling.” He said without looking at the smaller man. He finished his drink and looked back at him. “45, 44, 39-”

The count down did its job wonderfully. Mahitos ass was kicked into high gear. You could see in his eyes he was hearing the same sirens you were earlier as he ran to find the front door, desperate to get as far away from the monster that was holding you as soon as possible. You, on the other hand, were feeling the exact opposite effect. You wanted to be even closer to him than ever.

“So, why didn’t you call me?” Ryomen asked, looking down at you. Somehow, all the ice in his eyes had defrosted, leaving him with his warm puppy dog ones. You realized that you were in danger rather quickly and detangled yourself from his arm. 

“Oh, because I threw it away.” You smiled. The liquor you had been drinking was officially flowing through your veins, and quite frankly, you didn’t really care about decorum. Ryomen blinked at you, fully processing what you said.

“Why?” He asked. 

“Because, while you may not be a creep, Ryomen, you’re still a womanizing fuck boy that never had any real intention of starting a relationship with me. Am I right?” You asked, batting your pretty eyelashes at him. Ryomen couldn’t help but smirk. Damn, you really had him pegged, didn’t you? He was growing fonder and fonder of you by the minute. 

“You’re right.” He admitted, taking a step closer to you, “But, I gotta say, I respect you having the balls to say it to my face. Makes me think you might actually be worth getting to know.” Which was the closest Ryomen could ever get to saying ‘I find you at least intriguing and would actually be interested in a relationship.’ You just smirked at him and hummed. 

“But are you worth getting to know?” You asked. Before he could answer, Mei had suddenly returned from the astral plane, you fucking guessed. Of course she would be nowhere to be found when you needed her, but show up to ruin things right as they get interesting. 

“Y/n!” She laughed as she came downstairs, “We’re playing seven minutes in heaven upstairs, you gotta come play!” She said, giggling as she grabbed your arm.

“I can think of nothing more opposed to my soul.” You said plainly, taking your arm back. “Getting sweaty in a dark closet with a stranger? Sounds like hell.”

“Sounds pretty fun to me.” Ryomen said. It was a dangerous gamble, but if the cards were on his side he could just end up being the stranger getting sweaty with you in a dark closet. 

“You would, mega creep.” You scoffed, semi-jokingly.

“Come on Y/n, what's the worst that happens? You end up making awkward chit chat for seven minutes in a closet? Come on!” Mei groaned.

“If they make you uncomfortable, yell herpes and I’ll come kill them for you.” Sukuna offered. “Your safe word is herpes?” You questioned. 

“Can you think of anything that kills the mood faster than the thought of herpes?” Ryomen asked. Alright, fair enough Ryomen. 

“Come on Y/n, please come play? It’ll be fun!” Mei begged. You sighed, wondering when you planned to stop making bad decisions tonight.

“Okay, fine. I’ll play.” You groaned while both of your companions cheered. In a flurry, you were being whisked away up the stairs, both of them trying to get you in the game before you had a chance to back out. You were reminded once again that you hated college parties, walking into a smoke filled dorm room lit by led lights and adorned with a weed pride flag. 

“Love that you can tell what part of this room was decorated by Gojo and what was decorated by Geto.” Mei laughed as she led you to a group of young adults sitting in a circle. 

“Overhead lights are the devil!” Gojo yelled, throwing a chip into his mouth. A not at all shocking amount of people in the group of (Probably neurodiverse) stoners agreed with him in hums and cheers. You sat down next to him, Mei sitting on the other side of you and Ryomen  taking a free spot in the circle somewhere across from you. 

“Who’s in the closet now?” Sukuna asked. As if summoned by his question, Nanami and Shoko walked out of the closet, both of them on their phones. 

“Geto’s turn.” Shoko said. Mei scoffed at them both.

“Weren't you making drinks, Nanami?” Mei asked as Geto spun the bottle.

“I was..” Nanami assured her, “I got bored.” The bottle landed on Gojo, and everyone let out childish woos and whistles. Geto and Gojo both grinned like fools as they rushed to the closet, the two of them always excited to feel each other up. Honestly their participation in this game took you a bit by surprise. What if one member of the couple didn’t get the other?

“God they need to just get together already.” Ryomen muttered, rolling his eyes. What?! They weren't together?! Before you could express your shock, a very loud, very breathy moan left the closet door, filling you with second hand embarrassment for the two. The rest of the crowd ate that shit up though, shouting encouragement and wolf whistling. Even Ryomen was laughing with the crowd when he caught your eyes.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “What? Voyeurism not your thing?”

You looked at him in annoyance. “Why would it be anyone's thing?”

He shrugged in response. “Performance is performance. People will do anything for attention.”

You raised an eyebrow at him now. “Would you do anything for attention?”

He smirked at you. “I’d do anything for your attention.”

Your silent conversation was interrupted by another loud moan, this time courtesy of Geto, and the crowd went wild again, shouting vulgarities at them. You began to wonder if this was typical of them, or if they were— as Ryomen suggested— putting on a performance. You got your answer as the timer rang, marking their seven minutes as up. They exited the closet with a flourish, bowing for the crowd and showing off their messed up clothes and hair. Was this the appeal of seven minutes in heaven? You didn’t understand party games.

“Alright Ryo, your go.” Geto laughed, giving fistbumps and highfives while he sat down. Ryomen rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that, Gene Simmons” He growled at him, before giving you one last look and spinning the bottle. You were mildly curious to see where the bottle would land, already feeling bad for whatever poor schmuck that got locked in a closet with him. 

And then the bottle landed on you. Cheers and hollars surrounded and pounded in your ears. Your body was in super-hyper-defense mode which…was really just an oncoming panic attack. Of all the people you imagined being shoved in a closet with, Ryomen Sukuna had never crossed your mind. You were going to be in a small, confined space with him, all alone, where you’re literally expected to at least make out. You were electrified back to life as a hand fell in front of your face.

You looked up and saw the hand was attached to the grinning face of Ryomen, fireworks exploding behind his eyes. “You coming baby girl?” He asked with a wink. You didn’t have to. You could have turned tail and run away, out of the party and back to your dorm. That was actually what you probably should do, it was the safe option! The one that would make your mother proud. 

You took his hand, sending the crowd into yet another tizzy. But this time, you heard none of it, your mind focused entirely on Ryomen. He squeezed your hand reassuringly as he led you to the closet and smiled almost comfortingly. You didn’t know his smile could be comforting, thanks to the fangs, but it was. All of it felt very…off, coming from Ryomen, probably the least comforting person at your school.

He pulled you into the closet, pulling you close to his chest as he pulled the door closed. A lot of pulling was going on. You braced yourself for war, for him to kiss you. You closed your eyes tight, feeling your entire body tense but…nothing came. He didn’t kiss you. In fact, he let go of you. You opened your eyes just to see him leaning against the wall of the closet, staring at you with his hands in his pockets.

“You…didn’t kiss me?” You questioned, just for him to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“No? You didn’t want me to.” You weren’t sure why, but that assertion upset you. How dare he claim to know what you wanted?! You didn’t even know what you wanted!

“You don’t know that.” you scoffed, causing him to laugh.

“Oh please,” He shriveled into what (You hoped) as an overly dramatized rendition of your body language from seconds before, “Doesn’t necessarily scream ‘Kiss Me’.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. You crossed your arms, but, you knew he was right.

“It’s just…I’ve never done this before.” You tried to explain. 

“You’ve never been kissed?” He seemed genuinely shocked.

“No, dipshit, I’ve kissed people before! I’ve just never played seven minutes in heaven.”

“Oh, yea I could kinda tell,” He admitted with a shrug, “You scream sheltered kid. I bet even now, as a grown ass adult you’re still too scared to rebel against mommy.” The way he said “mommy” struck you. It was soaked in condescension and mockery. You hated that he was right. You hated that despite the fact you were fully grown getting a college degree, you still heard your mothers voice in the back of your head every time you wanted to do something even a little bit rebellious. You were willing to bet no one else had that! You bet Ryomen didn’t have that.

“I am not!” you lied to him.

“Oh yea?” He challenged.

“Yea!” You asserted.

“Then prove it. Kiss me.” he said. Ryomens eyes burned into yours as he stepped forward, slowly closing the already small gap between you. His presence was intense and all consuming and hot. You could feel him burning you away from the inside out, as if he was a raging inferno and you were just a piece of tissue paper caught in his wake. He had a smirk that just screamed I know I just won and it drove you crazy because he was right! He was either right or he got the kiss you knew he’d been chasing all night. Well fuck it. There was only one way for you to win here too.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Ryomen didn’t skip a beat, pulling you even closer to him and pushing you against the wall, the soft thud sending the drunken crowd outside the door into hysterics. Your fingers tangled in his hair and his hands slid up your shirt to grab your bare skin. He bit your lip, making you gasp and giving him room to deepen the kiss.

Your head was spinning with excitement and panic, your breathing becoming harsher by the minute as he moved to kiss your neck. Your ex had never kissed you like this before. So desperate to have you, as if you were the most desirable being on the planet. It excited you, electrocuting your nervous system with every touch, pull, or bite. Despite your better judgment, a moan escaped you, sending the drunken crowd outside the closet into another bout of hysterics.

Your body reacted to him in ways that it had reacted to nobody else before, you needed him. He grabbed one of your thighs and rested it on his hip, his hand sliding under the hem of your skirt.

“Ryomen..” You moaned out, soft enough not to feed the masses.

“Say it again.” He purred.

“Ryomen.”

“That's seven!” Gojo called, pounding on the closet door, startling both you and Ryomen. He pulled away just in time for Gojo to pull the door open, a smug smirk plastered on his face. “You two love birds have fun?” He teased. Sukuna rolled his eyes, his annoyance with being interrupted evident.

“Not as much fun as you and your boy toy.” He scoffed, grabbing your hand and pulling you from the closet. The crowd of drunken young adults had grown, meaning the crowd of people wolf whistling and cheering (jeering?) had grown. Embarrassment exploded from your chest. What the hell were you thinking?! Kissing Ryomen?! You silently scolded yourself.

You didn’t even fully process that he had dragged you from the dormroom until you were in a new one, this one seemingly vacuumed sealed away from the party. The art on the wall queued you into the fact that this was probably the room Ryomen and Nanami shared. 

“Ryo?” You asked as he pulled you into the room and locked the door behind him.

“Nicknames now huh?” He chuckled, “That's cute.”

He locked the door. He locked the door. You may have been a sheltered kid, but you weren’t dumb. You knew what a locked door met at a frat party. The realization sparked your nervous system into high gear and you felt the need to press your thighs together again.

“I’ve never done this before.” You told him quickly.

“What, sex on a first date?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your waist again. You’d…hardly call this a fucking date, but that was an issue for later.

“No, sex.” You told him. He actually backed away.

“Really?” He asked, more shocked than you would have liked. “Hey, look we don’t have to-”

“I know we don’t.” You cut him off. “I want to.” He smirked almost proudly as he closed the gap between the two of you once again.

“I knew I liked you.” He purred. Before you had a chance to ask what that meant, his lips had crashed into yours, pulling you into another heated kiss. It was like the two of you physically couldn't get enough of each other, like you’d simply stop breathing if you weren’t kissing. It sent your head into a heated flurry, making you feel light. He pressed you into the bed, wrapping one of your legs around his hips as his hand slipped underneath your skirt, his fingers tracing the now translucent spot in your underwear. 

Another moan escaped you, sounding far more desperate than you would have liked. “Needy, are we?” Ryomen chuckled, pushing your panties to the side and running two fingers up and down your slit, collecting the sticky lube. You wanted him so bad it hurt. Your body felt flushed with hellfire and you couldn't help but wonder if he was this cocky with every girl he brought to his bed.

“Yea,” You moaned through a heavy breath, “You gonna take care of it, or whaa-” Your quip died in your throat as he buried two fingers into your weeping pussy, up to the knuckle without even a warning.

“What was that doll?” He teased, curling his fingers up to perfectly hit your g-spot and send you astral projecting into the ninth dimension. Was this what you were missing out on? Your hands fell to his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life as he curled his fingers again. This was a completely new type of pleasure for you, one you couldn’t get from your own fingers or a toy. You were hooked on it, you needed more of it. You started grinding down on his hand, chasing the high he was more than obliged to give you. 

“Feel good?” He purred. You nodded helplessly, your brain too mushy to make words. “Want to feel even better?” His smirk was wicked. You didn’t have time to process it though, or even answer the question before he removed your panties and ducked his head under your skirt, his lips quickly finding your clit. The new sensation was your tipping point. The fire in your veins overtook you, your head felt like it was made of cotton, and the tension that had been growing in you was reaching a breaking point.

“R-ryo,” You panted desperately, “I-its too much, I-” Your pleas for mercy are cut off as he slips another finger into you, shooting sharp tendrils of pleasure throughout your body, finding every last inch of you. Your brain was mush and your nerves on high alert, feeling every single one of the pink haired man's movements.

Your entire body felt tense as heat continued to pool in hot waves in your stomach, every curl of his fingers, every swipe of his tongue bringing you one step closer to the brink. You had never wanted anything so bad in your life. Your hands tangled in his hair, subconsciously pulling him closer to your needy cunt. Ryomen very much obliged, giving you everything you wanted and more.

“I-I, ah-!” all of the intense feelings were building into a crescendo inside of you, your small boat in the ocean of oxytocin and euphoria was capsizing. All at once your body seized, you thought you whined out his name but you weren’t sure. Pleasure came rolling over your entire body in seething waves, filling all of your senses and leaving you shaking like a chihuahua. 

“You're beautiful when you cum.” Had to be one of the weirdest compliments you had ever received. You lifted your head off the bed to see Ryomen wiping his mouth off. He stood up, taking off his shirt, and holy shit. You don’t know why the thought never occurred to you that the tattoos would be on his chest too. They covered his face, they were on his arms and wrists, why wouldn’t they be on his chest? It made you wonder where else they were.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, knowing full and well you were. You looked away in embarrassment, just to feel him grab the hem of your sweater. “I showed you mine, let me see yours” He teased, pulling the pink top off of you. His reaction gave you your confidence back plus some. You felt emboldened by the way he beheld you, like you were Venus herself. You smirked as you took off your bra, exposing your chest to him.  

“Enjoying the view?” You asked. 

“Very much so.” he said in a rush before his eager, hot mouth wrapped around your right nipple, his hand coming up to play with the left. You had never imagined having your tits played with would feel so good. Maybe it was just the effect Ryomen had on you. But his actions left you whimpering softly under him, unconsciously bucking your hips to make some friction. He noticed the command he had over your body, the way you melted into him. He knew you were his, he just had to seal the deal. 

He pulled away, undoing his belt and jean buttons to free his cock. You bucked your hips at the view again, feeling your cunt clench around nothing. He was bigger than you expected, thick and long. You’d probably have been a little bit intimidated if you weren’t so desperate to feel that high again. He fisted himself with one hand and clumsily rubbed your sensitive nub with the other. But it wasn’t enough anymore, you needed him. 

“Ryo, please..”

“Please what Y/n?” He smirked. He knew exactly what you wanted. But, he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily.

“Ryomen, please, I need you.” You whined, not wanting to say it outloud.

“I’m right here baby girl, what do you need?” His grin was wicked and still full of mirth. You were starting to hate him again.

“Ryomen please, I need your cock, I need you, I need you to fuck me.” You blurted out all at once, your mouth moving faster than your mind did. His grin turned into a full on smile.

“Well, then why didn’t you just say that?” He laughed as he lined himself up with your soaking cunt.

“I di-AHH!” You screamed as he pushed his fat cock into you, the collision with your cervix jolting you into a state of hypersensitivity. You clung onto him desperately, your cunt clamping down around him, trying to push him out and pull him deeper all at the same time. You felt helplessly stretched out underneath him, your mind trying to find your body.

“Relax for me baby,” Ryomen moaned into your neck, kissing it softly. Easy for him to say! He wasn’t just impaled! You took deep, jagged breaths, to try and reregulate your fried nervous system. You took in the smell of pine and cigarettes, the almost comforting feeling of his body flush with yours, and the near tenderness of the kisses he was trailing along your neck. It was a beautiful caricature of intimacy, really.

Finally, you had relaxed enough around him for him to move. And move he did. To his credit, he tried to take it slow. He tried to be considerate of your virgin status (well…former virgin status) and not hurt you. But, Ryomen was not the slow gentle, “making love” type and before he knew it, he was chasing his high with a ferocity that left you weak under him. 

You weren’t complaining though. His thrusts were intoxicating, the curve of his dick hitting your g-spot with every thrust of his hips. He was stretching you to the point of delirium, feeling a rush of ecstasy every time he moved inside of your velvety walls. Your head was in heaven and your soul was in hell. Everything was all at once too hot and too cold, overwhelming. The waves of euphoria were building up inside of you again, a string tangling over itself again and again until it was taunt. 

One of his hands moved to massage at your clit again, coaxing your climax out of you with every stroke. You were speeding at 160 miles per hour off of a cliff and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Your mind was filled with nothing but Ryomen Ryomen Ryomen as electricity and pleasure coarse through your body. It felt like you were an electrical fire underneath him, no longer just tissue paper but an inferno in your own right.

“Ryomen, I’m-!”

“I know.” He said as he continued to chase both of your highs. The way your cunt clenched around him, pulling him back in with every thrust told him everything he needed to know. “Cum for me.”

Your body was under his command whether you liked it or not. You came undone around his cock, the string finally snapping as you drove off the cliff with no hesitation, and into your grave and erotic bliss, pleasure overtaking your body in waves. Your entire body shook under him as the intensity of your climax overcame you. He wasn’t far behind with the way your velvety walls were clenching around him, pulling his own orgasm from him. He came deep into your cervix, overflowing you and making you pray you wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences later.

You both stilled for a moment in the afterglow. As he pulled out and managed to collapse next to you, not on top of you. What did you do now? You could still hear the party raging outside of the door, but the last thing you wanted to do was rejoin it. You looked over at Ryomen, still trying to regulate his breath next to you.

You moved yourself to rest your head on his chest, figuring that was what couples do in movies after sex, right? For a second, you thought he was going to push you off. But, he didn’t. Quite the opposite really, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. 

“Sooo,” He said, finally breaking the silence, “Do you want my number again?”

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・Part 2 Out Now! ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

[here2bbtstrash]

look down on me like that - 9 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut, angst

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: 16k 🙈

contains: explicit sexual content 👀 literally jumps immediately into it (well.... you'll see 🤭) so buckle up!!! also features: hotel drama, reader being v dumb in classic reader fashion but she gets there, a whole lotta tension and angst and misplaced anger, some new friends!!! and yes they're 3 idols see if you can figure out who 🤪, erotic bed sharing and handholding lmfao, probably the most drinking that has happened in a chapter yet (which is saying a lot honestly), of course the GRAMMY RESULTS.... oh yeah and yoongi in glasses, yoongi in a suit, yoongi playing piano, yoongi almost getting in a fight, yoongi rapping, yoongi WEARING CAT EARS (yes these are all warnings!!!!!! 😩) - ok and here are ur smut specific warnings: semi-public sex (mile high club anyone ✈️), cunnilingus, fingering, sex dreams, nipple play, dirty talk, reader has a voice kink 🥴, clit stim, unprotected sex AGAIN 💀, she squirts again don't @ me lmao, aaaaand some lovely mouth/throat fuckin 🫡

A/N: i feel like i have nothing to say that isn't just overwhelming gratitude to you all for being here 🥺 so i'll keep it short!!! sit back and get comfy bc this one's a lot, here we go y'all..... you ready?? 💜

A/N 2: as of 5/27, this chapter has been updated to remove the instances of anti-asian discrimination. i want to expressly state how sorry i am to those who were hurt or otherwise upset by the original content. please know that i mean it when i say i am fully committed to listening and doing better moving forward. 💜

an eternal thank you to @haliiimede and @monimonimoon for their help betaing!!!

read on AO3!

chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten

~*~

You don’t know how you let Yoongi talk you into this.

You honestly can’t remember, at least not right now, not with your ass perched on the edge of the sink counter and his hands making quick work to tug your sweats and underwear down and off, one ankle at a time.

The place is cleaner than any airplane bathroom you’ve ever been in, and certainly much less cramped. First class really spares no expense, you’ve learned. It’s an upgrade Yoongi made for both of you at the check-in counter unprompted, his only explanation mumbled into the rim of his iced Americano once you’d settled at a table in the fancy lounge: “Economy seats fuck my back up, and I figured if I left you behind you’d push me into LA traffic at your first opportunity.”

You might still do it, if only because he’s managed to convince you to do this again. Weren’t you supposed to be mad at him?

“I’m starting to think you have a bathroom fetish,” you murmur, not quite managing to keep your voice steady. Your fingers rake through Yoongi’s long dark hair as he situates himself properly on his knees between your legs, his hands pressing your thighs to spread you wider.

“Are you complaining?” he grunts back, and you lose the ability to form a coherent response as he leans in and traces his tongue up your folds.

You nearly bang your head on the mirror with the way your spine instinctively arches at the feeling, your hips tilting up for as much of his mouth as you can get.

“Shit,” you hiss as he starts to fuck the muscle of his tongue into your entrance, his thumb swiping up through your wetness before settling into rough circles over your clit. “Why are you so fucking good at this?”

Once he’s thoroughly tasted you, Yoongi quickly replaces his tongue with his fingers, flexing against your front wall at a brutal pace, like he’s realized you can’t take too long in here. His lips close around your clit as his tongue laps over it in thick strokes, and your hips circle hungrily, grinding on him.

“That’s it,” he pulls off just enough to gasp. “Ride my face. Wanna make you come so I can fuck this tight little pussy.” Just the rough tone of his voice is nearly enough to send you over the edge.

When his lips and tongue return to your cunt, you don’t hold back.

You fist the hand tangled in his hair, your other palm smacking flat to the counter for balance as you throw a leg over his shoulder, and you swear you can hear him laughing while you press your heel into his back to pull him even closer. His mouth is warm and wet and divine, the way he licks and sucks at your throbbing clit overwhelming. He strokes his fingers deftly into your g-spot, working up enough arousal that it’s started to run down the crux of your thighs. You roll your hips again and gasp at the way his tongue drags just right over you.

“Oh god, Yoongi,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut, too lost in it to worry about being quiet. You can feel it as he keeps his tongue laid out flat for you to use as you please. Everything in you pulls tight as you rut yourself against his face in time to the building pressure worked up in your core by his unrelenting fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

The plane dips sharply, and you lurch upright with a gasp as your eyes snap open. There’s a few more seconds of shuddering bumps, and then you seem to find clear skies again.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you sit back and try to steady your breathing, the world slowly coming into focus: the TV screen in front of you, your purse tucked into the shelf beneath it, beige privacy walls surrounding you on all sides.

Fuck. You lean forward, letting your head drop between your knees as reality sinks in. You’re not in the bathroom. You’re in your stupid first-class seat. It was a dream. A fucking airplane sex dream.

Panic carves through you like a knife as questions bubble up in your mind: What if you said something in your sleep? Did Yoongi hear you? Is he sitting on the other side of the wall with that fucking smirk on his face, endlessly smug in the knowledge that he haunts you even in your dreams?

Immediately convinced that he is, you can’t help yourself. You press your hands flat to the divider between you and just barely lift out of your seat so you can peek over it.

But Yoongi looks entirely unchanged from the last time you saw him several hours earlier: he’s got his headphones on and is slouched over his laptop, frowning down at the screen, thoroughly engrossed in work.

Just as you’re breathing a sigh of relief, he glances up, and your eyes widen.

“Can I help you?” he grunts, not even bothering to pull his headphones off. You don’t think it’s a double entendre, but you don’t want to entertain him long enough to find out.

“No,” you snap, and then you slump back down to the safety of your seat, slamming the controller on the wall until you’re fully horizontal. You tug the provided headphones over your ears, hoping they might block out your racing thoughts as you desperately try to ignore the dull ache between your legs.

~*~

Getting any more sleep proves to be an impossible task, your mind too keyed up at the possibility of another airplane bathroom dream. By the time you make it through the rest of the flight, and customs, and the car ride to your hotel, you’re nearly delirious with exhaustion, and your body is thoroughly confused about what fucking time it is, though your phone says it’s apparently the middle of the night.

Your brain feels like it’s been in a blender, your reaction time so slowed that, standing at the hotel check-in counter, it takes you several seconds to process the words leaving the front desk agent’s mouth.

She must be able to read the dumbfounded look on your face, because she repeats herself. “King bed executive suite for three nights?”

“Um, no,” you finally manage to stammer, and though he makes no discernible noise of reaction, it’s like you can feel Yoongi smirking over your shoulder. “No, we need— I booked a room with two queens.”

The agent purses her lips slightly, then shakes her head as she stares down at her computer. “Mm, I’m seeing in the system that we have you down for one king.”

Your exhaustion steamrolls over whatever professionality you might normally have while conducting a business transaction. “I don’t care what your fucking system says, it’s wrong. That’s not what I booked.” Scrolling through your phone for a few seconds, you manage to dig up the email, and you’re almost more compelled to show it to Yoongi, just to make sure he’s well aware— you did not fuck this up.

“See, two queens,” you reiterate helplessly as you extend the receipt on your phone toward the agent.

She tuts once, her eyes barely glancing over at your phone before returning to her computer screen. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like we have any availability to switch you. Given the Grammys are on Sunday, this is quite a busy weekend for us.”

You set your phone on the counter and try to keep your breathing steady, to remain calm despite the overwhelmed panic starting to rise in your chest.

“About that,” you say, doing your best to speak in an even voice. “We wanted to keep a low profile, but my… associate here is actually a nominee. For Song of the Year?” You hate that it comes out more like a question as your gaze flits to Yoongi for the briefest of seconds, then back to the front desk agent. “So, really, if there’s anything at all you could do, we would appreciate it.”

There’s a pause as she regards you for a moment, her lips pressed into a tight smile, and then she speaks again. “I really do apologize, but a mistake on your part does not constitute an emergency on ours. No matter who the accommodation is for.”

It takes a second for your jetlag-addled brain to process the words, and their direct contrast to the forced sunny expression on her face. If you were in a better state of mind you might be able to take a breath, state your case more calmly, or figure out some other alternative, but instead all you can manage is a knee jerk reaction.

Because you can’t be in a room with Min Yoongi and only one bed.

“Are you fucking kiddin—”

“Hey.” 

A hand pressed to your bicep nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Despite every cell in your body urging you to lunge over the counter, you don’t fight it when Yoongi pulls you back a few paces, giving enough room for him to take your place at the counter.

“It’s fine,” he mutters over his shoulder.

It feels like your heart is beating a mile a minute, enough that you can hardly keep up with the soft apology he concedes to the agent. She hands him the room keys without another word, that same fake smile still plastered over her face. With one last nasty look over your shoulder, you follow Yoongi toward the elevators, dragging your suitcase along behind you.

Practically seething, you can barely manage to wait until the doors slide shut before you pounce.

“Look, I don’t know what you think is about to happen here, but I did not fucking book a single bed room.”

“It’s fine,” he sighs wearily, eyes fixed on the overhead number as it counts up to your floor. “I just want to sleep. Whatever that was about to turn into wasn’t worth the trouble.”

The doors slide open with a soft chime, and you storm after him down the hall to your room as he continues, pressing the key to the reader and pushing the door open. “Besides, I've stayed here before, and I know these suites have couches.” He holds the door and gestures for you to enter first, and you do.

He's not wrong: there’s a small living room area with a sofa, a desk, and a television mounted into a wall that effectively separates it from the bedroom on the other side, though there isn’t actually a door. The bathroom is immediately to your left as you step inside.

“So,” Yoongi says simply as the door shuts behind him. “I'll take the couch. All good.”

Of fucking course.

The rational part of your brain knows that he has done nothing to upset you. He's been quiet and polite on your long day of travel, and is treating you simply as if you were business acquaintances. It all makes perfect sense, given that you told him your night at his apartment couldn’t mean anything. He's done everything you’ve asked of him, really.

And yet it’s all of it: your stupid sex dream, the lingering bad taste of your encounter with the hotel agent, and the fact that Yoongi can’t seem to even fathom the idea of sharing a bed with you, not here and certainly not at his apartment. Everything has you simmering with a sudden vicious, unreasonable anger.

“Do whatever you want,” you snap as Yoongi sets his suitcase down on the floor of the living room. “I don’t give a shit.”

The rage burns like acid in your gut as you move through your night routine in the bathroom, and it’s only worsened by the knowledge that your alarm will be going off in just a few hours, and you’ll have to drag yourself through a long day of press and prep for Sunday. And that Yoongi will be there, through all of it, just like he’s on the other side of the door right now, inescapably and overwhelmingly present.

It doesn’t make sense to you how he can somehow manage to be too distant and too close at the same time. As you spit toothpaste into the sink, you wonder why the fuck you ever agreed to go on this stupid trip.

~*~

You don’t think you manage more than ten minutes of sleep the whole night. Despite exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs, you toss and turn and kick at the blankets, too frustrated by all the confusing feelings churned up inside of you to be able to slip into any kind of real rest.

When you glance at the clock for the millionth time, it’s now only thirty minutes until your alarm is due to go off. With a sigh, you decide to give up.

Your mind is already racing with the schedule for the day, and you go over it a million times in your head as you shower and dress and apply your makeup. When you emerge from the bathroom already entirely put together, Yoongi is on the couch blinking blearily at his phone, clearly having just woken up.

“The car will be here at seven,” you call over your shoulder without a second glance back at him.

He grunts his acknowledgement, and after a few moments you hear the sound of the bathroom door sliding shut again. You dig your work laptop out of your purse to double-check everything, and before you know it you’re sucked into confirming specifics and answering emails, and you completely lose track of time.

The sound of Yoongi clearing his throat snaps you back to reality, and you shut your laptop as you glance up to find him standing in the threshold of the bedroom. He’s dressed nicely for his many interviews, in a sky-blue button-down, and you have to blink twice as you take in his appearance.

“You wear glasses?”

The warm lamplight of the bedroom reflects off his lenses as he shrugs. “I don’t like to. But I forgot my contacts.”

“We can stop for some on the way to your fitting,” you answer, adding it to your mental to-do list. The reminder of your booked itinerary is enough to get you to your feet, one arm wrapped around your laptop to press it close to your chest. Trying to remember what else you need to do to get ready proves impossible as Yoongi steps closer, and then you hear him laugh softly under his breath.

“Wow, glasses? Really?”

“What?”

“You have that look on your face,” he says simply, and you can feel an embarrassed heat creep up your neck. You hate that after all this time, he can still read you like a book.

You swallow hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He continues to close the distance between you, and you take a reflexive step backward, only for your thighs to bump against the mattress behind you. “Would’ve worn these more often if I knew they’d get you all flustered.”

You attempt to argue that you’re not flustered, but the words die on your tongue with the realization of how close Yoongi is to you now. His eyes are fixed pointedly on your mouth. “I—” you try again, your voice breaking slightly. “I’m not—”

The sharp buzz of your phone vibrating on the nightstand makes both of you start, and it’s like you can think clearly again when Yoongi steps back to give you room to grab it. You thumb open the text with one hand as you shove your laptop into your purse with the other. “They’re downstairs.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything else to you until you’re in the car, crawling through Los Angeles traffic. “Remind me what all we’re doing today?”

You stare out the windshield, not wanting to meet his gaze as you recount the schedule that’s permanently seared into your brain. “You have press interviews in Studio City all morning until one. We’ll pick up lunch— and we can grab you some contacts, too— and then you have a fitting in Beverly Hills at two. After that, your boss wants us to tour the office out here and take a few meetings with the team, so that’ll be the rest of the afternoon. And then I guess whenever we’re done with that, the label execs want to take us to dinner after.”

He’s silent for long enough that you’re forced to glance over at him, wondering if he was even paying attention. There’s a small smile on his face, but it doesn’t quite read as smug. You don’t know what to make of it.

“Huh,” Yoongi finally remarks.

“What?” you snap in response, probably a little harsher than he deserves, but you haven’t had coffee yet.

“Nothing,” he says innocently. “It’s just funny, compared to when you first started.” He crosses his arms over his chest, shifting back slightly in his seat. “I remember when you couldn’t even use Outlook.”

You narrow your eyes in his direction. “I guess people change.”

“Guess so.”

The day passes in a hectic blur, and though ostensibly all of your scheduled engagements are meant to be about Yoongi, you find yourself just as busy as he is, if not moreso.

His press interviews run long because of course they do, and you’re forced to drop him at his fitting while you run out to pick up lunch and contacts— and most importantly, more coffee, which you desperately require to survive the rest of the day.

You’re admittedly thankful for the extra tasks. Even if you do feel dead on your feet, it’s still preferable to sitting around and watching Yoongi try on a suit. You can easily recall firsthand how deadly the image is, and putting off that suffering until the real thing tomorrow is perfectly fine, as far as you’re concerned.

The coffee gives you just enough of a caffeine boost to power through your afternoon meetings, reviewing branding strategies and opportunities for collaborative promotions with the label’s overseas team. Your heart sinks a little when you go through the marketing summary slides prepared by Jungkook, not a single detail out of place, and you try to shove thoughts of him to the back of your mind so you can focus on the work.

At dinner, it’s all you can do to not fall asleep over your extremely overpriced sashimi. Yoongi’s been pulled away to the far side of the table for what you can only assume are deeply boring conversations with the Los Angeles production team. Thankfully, your side is a bit more lively.

“Matthew,” the A&R rep who you’re pretty sure introduced herself as Tiffany stage-whispers. You realize she’s speaking to the tall and ridiculously built guy seated next to you when her gaze flits up to him, and then she resumes poring over the extensive drink menu. “Can we get sake bombs?”

“Why are you asking me?” Matthew responds, and you look over to see his face scrunched up in confusion.

“You’re in finance! I need you to tell me that I can get white-girl wasted on the label’s dime tonight.”

He sighs for a moment, like he’s trying to think. “I don’t… actually know if we’re allowed to reimburse that.” Tiffany’s lower lip trembles, dangerously adorable, and he exhales as if he’s been defeated. “Fuck it. I’ll cover it out of pocket if we can’t.”

“God, I love you,” she breathes, chasing the comment with a throaty laugh and quickly flagging down a server to order. “Can we please do thr— Vernon, baby, how old are you?”

The intern seated next to her blinks slowly. “Twenty four?” You’re pretty sure those are his first words of the evening.

“Huh. Your skincare’s doing wonders,” Tiffany shakes her head disbelievingly. “Four sake bombs, please?”

They arrive in an instant, and Tiffany smiles proudly to herself as she balances her shot glass on a pair of chopsticks laid across the top of her beer. You follow Matthew and Vernon’s lead as they set their drinks up to mirror hers.

“To Matthew’s wallet,” Tiffany toasts solemnly. “The only thing bigger than his tits.”

As if in hearty agreement, Matthew bangs his fist against the table so hard it makes everyone in a five foot radius flinch, and all four of your shot glasses plummet into the awaiting beers beneath them.

“Kanpai, motherfuckers!” Tiffany cackles, and you throw your drinks back in perfect sync.

The rowdiness of your corner is too loud to be ignored, and your stomach twists slightly as you set your empty glass down only to catch Yoongi staring from across the table. When your eyes meet his, he quickly lowers his gaze and adjusts his glasses, his mouth pulling into a flat line.

You turn back to your new friends as Tiffany finishes her own drink. As if she just witnessed the silent exchange, she leans toward you.

“So,” she drops her voice a little lower, “What’s it like working with Suga?”

Doing your best to keep your face neutral, you inhale deeply, wondering where to begin, or what would even be workplace-appropriate to say. The jetlag makes your mind move that much slower. “It’s—”

“Oh my god,” she immediately interrupts you. “You’re sleeping with him.”

Vernon nearly spits the last swallow of his drink back out.

“Tiffany,” Matthew interjects, sounding exhausted, like this is a regular occurrence. “Don’t fucking say that to someone you just met.”

“I mean,” you concede, your lips loosened by the warm rush of alcohol. “She’s not wrong.”

Matthews eyes widen, and he purses his lips for a long pause before he finally speaks. “Shiiiiiit, okay. Alright then.”

You sigh, slumping to rest your cheek in your hand, so exhausted that you can barely stay upright. “I don’t know if ‘sleeping with’ is the right term. It’s just a… mistake that we’ve made. A few times. Several, I guess.”

“I bet he’s even richer than Matthew,” Tiffany says, awestruck, clearly more to herself than to you.

“If it’s a mistake, why do you keep making it?” Vernon asks bluntly.

“Damn, Vernon with the deep cut,” Matthew remarks, and you shake your head.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, your words running together slightly. “I’m just trying not to think about it, at least not while we’re on this stupid work trip.”

All three of them nod like they understand, and then Tiffany leans in again. “Let me guess: there’s only one bed in the hotel room.”

“Please ignore her.” Matthew sounds as tired as you feel.

“Yes!” you exclaim, your anger from the night before temporarily reigniting. “The hotel fucked our room up, and the lady wouldn’t fix it because she was a fucking bitch—”

“Naturally,” Vernon interjects.

“And even though we only have one bed, he chose to take the couch. Like, that’s where we’re at.”

“That’s sweet,” Tiffany murmurs, and you make a face.

“Is it?”

“He’s being respectful. I bet he doesn’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable, or like… pressured. ‘Cause sleeping with somebody is a world of difference from… sleeping with them, you know?”

You roll your eyes. “Or he wants to be as far away from me as possible, even while sleeping.”

“If I was the one nominated for a Grammy, I’d make you take the couch,” Vernon scoffs around a piece of edamame.

“Right?” Matthew chimes in. “Ain’t no way I’m getting good sleep on a hotel couch. Them things are like fuckin’ cement blocks.”

A yawn escapes you before you can manage to stifle it, and you press a hand to your mouth, suddenly overwhelmed from exhaustion as well as the conversation. You scoot your chair back from the table to stand and politely excuse yourself to the restroom.

“You gotta cool it with that shit, Tiff,” you hear Matthew mutter as you depart.

Your mind swims while you traverse the long back hallways of this bougie restaurant. It’s almost laughable now, but you really never thought to give Yoongi the benefit of the doubt for sleeping on the couch— not here, and not at his apartment.

You’re still so used to expecting the worst from him that you’ve just assumed the intention is laced into his every action. Even the nice things have felt like a cause for concern, like a reason to keep your guard up, small gestures meant to distract you so he can get the upper hand, somehow. It’s hard to shake the idea that he’s your enemy, even after everything that’s happened.

And yet you can’t help wondering if Tiffany is right. Is Yoongi really just being… respectful? And if so: what does he want? And how does he feel? You’re torn between wanting to know and hoping you never find out.

A voice saying your name drags you out of your thoughts. You turn back just shy of the restroom door, unable to stop another yawn from slipping out, and you bring a hand to your mouth to hide it. Your eyes widen as your brain works on a delay to process the familiar voice, then the sky-blue shirt and the dark framed glasses. It distantly occurs to you that Yoongi has you all alone in this fancy hallway.

You blink a few times, willing the weight of sleepiness out of your eyes, then finally respond with the first thing you can think of. “I’m not fucking you in the bathroom, Yoongi.”

He blinks right back at you, clearly not expecting that. “I… wasn’t asking you to.”

“What do you want then?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I—” he sighs, and you can’t help but wonder if he suddenly regrets coming after you. “You’re tired.”

“Yes, because I barely fucking slept. And?”

You tell yourself that you’re just imagining the way his voice has softened slightly. “Dinner’s over. We don’t have to stay. They’ll get it.”

“I’m having fun,” you retort. “I made friends.”

“I saw,” he remarks, not quite able to hide his smirk.

“So please, don’t cut your boring producer conversation short on my behalf,” you continue dryly.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, to your surprise. “Yeah, it’s brutal. I’d much rather be sleeping.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Or doing sake bombs.”

The question rushes out before you can second guess if it’s a good idea to ask. “How did you sleep? On the couch?”

Yoongi shrugs, then rubs a hand at the back of his neck, making a face as if you’ve put him on the spot. “Like shit.”

You nod, your gaze dropping to the carpeted floor. “Well, I mean. Maybe it would make more sense if, uh—”

“’Scuse me—” a new voice causes your head to snap up again, and you take a step away from Yoongi as Tiffany slips between the two of you, moving quickly toward the women’s restroom.

“Sorry love, I have to break the seal!” she calls over her shoulder before the door slams shut.

The interruption is enough to make you swallow your suggestion, and Yoongi reaches into his pocket for his phone.

“I’ll call a car, because I’m tired,” he murmurs defensively. “You’re welcome to get your own later, if you want to stay out—”

“I don’t,” you say firmly. “It’s fine. Just tell me when the car’s here.” Before Yoongi can so much as respond, you shoulder the bathroom door open and fast-walk to the safety of a stall.

After breaking your own seal, you make your way out to a sink, and you’re a little taken aback to find Tiffany still there waiting for you. She’s hovering over the mirror, blotting at her forehead with a paper towel.

“I wanted to apologize if I came on too strong,” she says softly as you turn on the tap. “Matthew says my mind-reading abilities can be intimidating to people who don’t know me well.”

You can’t help but laugh. “It’s cool. You remind me of my best friend.”

“The highest honor there is,” she says with a knowing nod. When she turns to fully face you, shifting to rest her hip on the sink as you dry your hands, you have a feeling there’s more coming.

“So, can I be honest?”

“Go ahead,” you say, suddenly a little nervous.

“I know I just met both of you today, but— the way Suga was looking at you? Girl. He’s not taking the couch because he wants to.”

You smile politely at her reflection, and her eyes narrow. “I know you don’t believe me, and you don’t have to. Matthew doesn’t believe that he’s in love with me either, but we both have Leo Moons, so obviously we’re each waiting for the other person to cave first.” She shrugs, nonchalant. “Which is fine for us, but all I’m saying is, if you want something, there’s really nothing wrong with asking for it.”

The urge to shut her down is strong. It’s slightly unnerving to feel like a relative stranger is peering into your soul. “You make it sound easy,” you murmur with a dry laugh. “I don’t think bed-sharing is part of our… arrangement.”

Tiffany preens a little more in the mirror, deftly flipping her curtain of dark hair over one shoulder. “Maybe it’s not supposed to be, but trust me on this one. He won’t say no. And if he does, I owe you a sake bomb.”

A genuine smile blooms across your face, and it only widens when she holds up her pinky finger. You lock yours around it for a single shake. “Deal.”

Arm-in-arm with Tiffany, you return to your corner of the table, where she entertains you by bullying Matthew into buying another round of drinks while he groans about burning a hole in his pocket.

“If it helps,” you giggle, “I’m about to head out. So make it three instead of four.”

“Thank god,” Matthew breathes a sigh of relief. “This girl is so damn expensive.”

Tiffany pauses with a spoonful of matcha gelato— also ordered on Matthew’s dime— halfway to her mouth. “I literally have a Leo stellium, what the fuck do you expect?”

While they continue to bicker, your gaze floats down the table. You wonder if Tiffany’s mind-reading powers might be catching as your eyes land on Yoongi just in time for him to look up from his phone and meet your gaze. He nods his head once toward the entrance, and you nod back.

A shoulder bumps into yours, and you turn to see Tiffany subtly shoot you a thumbs-up. “Fighting!” she murmurs under her breath, and you laugh as you get to your feet and bid everyone goodnight.

Yoongi holds the door of the restaurant for you to exit first, then follows you into the large black car waiting for you on the curb.

The drive back to the hotel gives you just enough time to immediately talk yourself out of Tiffany’s suggestion. The thought of asking for what you want feels like a trap, like displaying weakness to the one person who could hit you hardest. Besides, what if she misread Yoongi entirely? She doesn’t know him at all, and has no idea of the way things are between you. It’s a terrible idea, you decide.

So you find yourself right where you were the night before, like a bad dream you can’t wake up from: face washed, teeth brushed, tossing and turning in a bed far too large for one person. You can feel your final thread of resistance snap clean in half as you angrily kick the blankets off, then get to your feet and storm into the living room.

Yoongi is still up, peering down at his phone screen on the couch, his glasses deposited atop the coffee table.

“You’re being stupid,” you huff, and he glances up, clearly not expecting the interruption.

“I am?”

“You’re going to the Grammys tomorrow,” you say, as if that will explain anything.

“So are you,” Yoongi counters.

“Well yeah, but nobody’s going to give a shit about me.”

“I’d argue that’s also true for me,” he murmurs dryly, then squints at you. “Sorry, why am I stupid?”

“Because you’re going to sleep terribly on this couch.”

Yoongi nods once. “Probably, yes.”

You sigh, because of course he’s going to drag this out of you. “And the bed is perfectly big enough for two people. We wouldn’t even be touching or anything. So…” Fuck, saying what you want is hard. “Can you just… stop being stupid?”

There’s a flash of recognition in his eyes, and you’re surprised when that trademark cocky smirk doesn’t spread across his face. If anything, he just seems hesitant as he slowly sits up. “You’re sure?”

You fold your arms across your chest, suddenly feeling exposed like this, standing in front of him in only your thin sleep clothes. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth just barely pulls up, so slight you could be imagining it. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

In the bedroom, you leave the lamp at the empty side of the bed switched on, then crawl back under the sheets on your side. Heat blooms in your face as you press your cheek to the cool pillowcase, purposefully facing out, then reach one arm up to turn off your own bedside lamp.

True to his word, a few minutes later you hear the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s steps across the carpet, then feel the shift of the mattress as he slips into bed on his side. He fumbles on the nightstand with what must be his glasses and his phone, and then you hear the click of the light, and the room disappears into darkness.

There’s a rustle and a sigh as he makes himself comfortable, and you were right: the two of you can easily share the bed without touching, plenty of space on the mattress between you.

Even so, having him closer is somehow… better. Comforting. You try not to dwell too much on it.

Flipping over onto your back, you stare up at the infinite black of the ceiling above you, your eyes already starting to weigh heavy. You don’t know where the question comes from, or why you ask it.

“Are you nervous?”

When he answers, Yoongi sounds half-asleep, too. “About what?”

“The Grammys?”

“Oh.” There’s a stirring sound, and then he speaks, like he’s just remembered you can’t see him shrugging. “I don’t know. A little.”

The only reply you’re capable of is a soft hum, and now you really can’t keep your eyes open. You curl up on your side again, cheek smushing into the pillow, and your consciousness whirs up one last coherent thought before you fully slip under: What else would he be nervous about?

~*~

You wake up to the warm glow of morning beneath your eyelids, and when you blink them open, the room is lit soft, dappled in sunlight that has managed to sneak between the thick hotel curtains. It’s warm in this bed too, and comfortable, and you sigh quietly to yourself as you stir a little under the covers. With a stifled yawn, you move to turn onto your back, and it’s only when you meet a gentle resistance that you realize why you’re so warm.

Yoongi must just be waking up too, because you immediately feel his body start at the realization that he pulled you close at some point during the night: an arm thrown over your waist, his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice low and rough with sleep. “Sorry.” As the mattress starts to shift behind you, you respond on pure physical instinct and close your hand around Yoongi’s wrist.

“Stay.” The word comes out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

Yoongi’s response is a soft grunt, and a bolt of panic quickens your pulse. You’re suddenly worried he might not want to stay, that he might even laugh at you for thinking you could have it like this, wrapped in his arms and waking up slowly. The furthest thing from hatred— and isn’t that what this is supposed to be?

But then his grip tightens to pull you that much closer, and he wordlessly presses his face into the crook of your neck. Your heart flutters in your chest, sweet and terrified. The heat of his breath over your skin makes you lean into him instinctively, and when your hips tilt, you can feel the unmistakable bulge of his clothed cock against your ass.

“God,” Yoongi groans. The deep gravel of his voice is enough to tighten your nipples beneath your tank top. “You make me so fucking hard. Dreamt about fucking you in this bed.”

“We woke up early,” you murmur. “So. There’s time.”

He grunts a low note in response. You can already feel the thin material of your sleep shorts growing wet between your legs as you slowly grind your hips back on him. 

Yoongi’s hand slips up your body, fingertips dragging over the fabric of your top until his palm is pressed to the column of your throat. You inhale softly, your head tipping up to allow him better access. His grip just barely tightens, and when he speaks in your ear, you can hear the smile around his words. “Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to fuck me, Yoongi,” you breathe. “In this bed.”

When you repeat his words back to him, Yoongi exhales a laugh, and then you feel him press a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. Something melts open inside of you at the brush of his lips, a sudden rush of an emotion you haven’t felt in a very long time. Something you certainly never expected to feel with Min fucking Yoongi, of all people.

He releases his hold on your throat, and his hand makes short work of slipping the straps of your tank top off your shoulders, then yanking the loose fabric down to expose your tits. You shiver a little at the morning air against your bare skin.

Yoongi’s palm closes around one of your breasts, lazily massaging it, and you rut your ass back on him with a small whimper. The heat of his mouth trails more kisses up your neck, and then his deep voice is in your ear again.

“Did you sleep okay?” He pairs the question with his thumb dragging circles over the stiff bud of your nipple, earning another soft noise from you.

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond. “Better than the first night.”

He hums against the shell of your ear, the timbre of his rough voice setting every last one of your nerve endings alight. Overcome with desire, you can barely focus on his words as his hand traces along your waist to slip down the back of your shorts.

“Me too. So much better than the fucking couch.”

Two of his fingers tease over your slit, and he huffs a disbelieving laugh at how wet he finds you, how turned on you already are. When he swipes between your folds to circle at your entrance, you can hear your own slickness, chased with a soft noise of appreciation that escapes Yoongi’s mouth as he plunges both digits into your pussy. You can’t help but moan, too.

He could easily make you come just like this, but you want him too much.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, twisting slightly to reach a hand behind you. You trace down the hard muscles of his stomach, apparent even through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, until your palm drags along the thick outline of his cock straining beneath his boxer briefs. He’s so hard that he pulses under your touch, and you’re sure he must be able to feel the way your pussy flutters at the thought of this cock filling you up.

“Needy,” he purrs, his mouth against your neck.

“Shut up,” you answer automatically, not quite able to keep your voice steady with the way he’s fucking his fingers into you.

But Yoongi doesn’t torment you— you only have to give his clothed length one slow pump before his hands are pushing your shorts over your legs, like he can’t get them off fast enough. You kick them the rest of the way off while he works his boxers down, and then you arch back as his cock starts to tease your pussy lips apart.

He slips easily through your folds, painting you both in a mixture of pre-cum and arousal as he grinds himself over the whole of your slit. You bite back a moan when the head of his dick rubs up to your clit, smearing wetness there in steady strokes that make you gasp and writhe.

“Can I go raw again?” he asks so softly in your ear, and your cunt throbs as you whimper your consent.

It’s impossible to keep quiet now, not with how perfectly his cock pushes into you, stretching you open to take him. You press your face into the pillow to slightly muffle your sounds, and you can hear Yoongi groan behind you.

“Fuck,” he hisses roughly. “You’re ruining me. I may never be able to go back to condoms.”

“Yoongi,” you whine as he sheathes himself fully with a grunt of effort, giving you a few moments to adjust before he moves. “If you keep fucking talking in my ear with your morning voice like that—” your own voice breaks off mid-sentence as he drags his cock out just to fuck it back into you, and you have to take a breath before trying again. “I’m gonna come in five seconds.”

When he presses his mouth to your shoulder, you can feel the smirk on his lips. “Is that right?” The low rumble of his question buzzes through you, and your walls tighten around him in response. “You like it that much?”

You can barely remember how to form words with the way he’s started to thrust, the head of his cock sparking hot pleasure each time he rubs himself over the ridges of your front wall. “What if I do?”

Yoongi hums into the crook of your neck, purposefully drawing the sound out to make a shiver run up your spine, and you can’t help moaning. His hand slips between your thighs to nudge them apart, and you’re easily pliant for him, spreading yourself at his guidance so his fingers can find your clit.

“I’d tell you how fucking good you look like this,” he murmurs against your skin. “How well you take my cock.” You roll your hips in time with his strokes, and his free arm slips between your shoulder and the bed to wrap around your chest, giving him leverage to fuck you harder.

“Oh my god.” You nearly choke on your words as he pounds into you, unrelenting now, and your fingertips claw desperately at the pillow beneath your head.

“Pussy’s always so fucking tight, shit,” he groans. “Should’ve just done this the whole weekend. Don’t know how I even let you leave the room.”

Your feet flex helplessly against the bedsheets as Yoongi’s hand rubs a steadily building pressure into your core that threatens to overflow. His fingers move in tight circles over your clit like he knows your body well— which, you guess, he does. The thought of him keeping you here all weekend, tangled up in these sheets, fucking you senseless and making you come again and again and again is dizzying, enough to make your pussy start to pulse around his length.

“Yoongi,” you gasp. “Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”

His lips brush over your shoulder, his voice stilted by how roughly he’s fucking into you. “Yeah, come on this cock. Make a mess for me.”

The pleasure is so overwhelming you almost want to squirm away from it, but then his fingers press your clit just right to snap a final thread and send you over the edge. Your thighs shake violently as your climax rips through you, and a rush of fluid squirts out of your cunt to coat the length of his dick and soak a wet spot into the sheets.

Yoongi groans unabashedly at the sight, still fucking you through the waves of your orgasm, his thrusts slowing as if to hold off his own end while your pussy keeps shuddering around him.

You take your time coming all the way down, lost in how good it feels, and then you slump back against the pillow with a ragged sigh, your head swimming. “Holy shit.”

His throbbing-hard cock is still clenched inside your heat, and the bed shifts when he gently pulls out. Dazed, you turn over to watch him as he kneels up on the bed next to you, his knees sinking soft divots into the mattress, and starts to slowly pump himself.

And fuck. He looks so good like this: long hair mussed from sex and sleep, with a half-awake look of concentration on his face, his tongue toying at the corner of his mouth and the muscles of his arm flexing with every stroke. Watching him get himself off has only gotten hotter since you saw it the first time, and you didn’t think that was possible.

It feels like it takes all the effort you have left in your body, but you manage to sit up and turn to face him. In one assured move, you reach down to grab his wrist and pull his hand off his cock.

Yoongi whines a little at the realization of what you’re doing, and he leans back to give you full access as you settle yourself on all fours in front of him.

“Oh fuck yeah, please suck me off.”

“Please?” you laugh, pausing to glance up at him. “Who taught you manners?”

“That fucking mouth did,” he growls, and it’s punctuated with a relieved moan as you drag your tongue up his shaft. One of his hands tangles in your hair while you lick the heady taste of yourself off his cock, then breathe deep through your nose so you can swallow him down.

Yoongi’s breath comes in ragged pants as you hollow your cheeks around him and start to bob your head, letting his tip rub against the back of your throat on every pass. You feel his fingers in your hair tighten, and his hips shove up to match your strokes, like he’s already close to coming undone.

This thick cock weighs heavy and familiar on your tongue, warm like the rays of morning sun that have reached far enough into the room to wash over the bedsheets now. Drool spills out from the seal of your lips around Yoongi’s shaft, and the sound of him fucking your mouth is obscene, pornographic as it floats up to the ceiling.

“God,” Yoongi gasps. “Gonna come down your pretty fucking throat.”

And it’s funny— once, this would have made you feel powerful, in control, like the person with the upper hand. The winner. But in this moment, it occurs to you that you don’t really give a shit about winning anymore. Now his words just make you hum and suppress a smile around his cock in your mouth. When you notice the way his thighs tremble in response, you keep going, vibrating his length while you sink as far down as you can take it.

The hand in your hair releases, and then his palm just barely brushes over the bulge of his cock in your throat as if in admiration. Eyes rolling back, you let your jaw slacken and swallow hard on the stretch of him there.

“Jesus, fuck,” he groans, and then he’s coming, and the throb of him in your mouth still feels like a reward. You pull back a little to keep from gagging as he paints fat ropes of cum into the tight clutch of your throat. Sucking firmly around him through spasm after spasm, you swallow it all down greedily until you feel him going soft on your tongue. 

You finally pull off with a wet pop, dazed and laughing as you roll over and collapse into a heap against the mattress, thoroughly spent.

“Okay,” Yoongi manages to say on an exhale, though you can hear he’s still short of breath, too. You glance up to see him raking a hand through his hair, looking fucked out of his mind. “I’m ready to go win a Grammy now.”

There’s just enough time for each of you to shower and get dressed before a whole team of people arrive for Yoongi: stylists, hair and makeup, and most importantly, coffee delivery. Yoongi blinks wide-eyed at you as you press the largest iced Americano you could find in downtown Los Angeles into his hands, and then you step back to let everyone get to work.

Meanwhile, you spend the next few hours in a rush of attempting to get yourself ready, all while double-checking the schedule, answering emails on the fly from your phone, and trying desperately to ignore the anxiety that’s started to hum in the pit of your stomach.

Once your hair and makeup are as decent as you can get them, you slip the black dress you packed for tonight— a rental, because buying a black tie dress was absolutely out of your price range— off the hanger and step carefully into it. Watching yourself in the mirror, you reach behind you for the zipper only to realize you can’t quite manage to pull it up past the small of your back.

Fuck. You didn’t even think about the fact that Jimin helped you zip this thing up when you tried it on initially, during a night at your place where you split two bottles of wine and he performed his own personal critique of all your dress rental options. This was the only one he’d liked.

With a nervous sigh, you head for the bathroom door, figuring that you’ll be able to subtly grab the attention of one of Yoongi’s many stylists to help.

But when you slowly slide the door open, one hand pressing the fabric of your dress in place over your chest, you realize the room has fallen quiet. As you lean across the threshold, you see why: everyone is gone.

Except for Yoongi, who glances up from where he’s sunk into the couch, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.

“Where is everyone?” you snap, probably a little harsher than you need to be.

He frowns like he doesn’t understand the question. “They… left? Because they were done? I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s a big awards show tonight. Means the stylists are pretty booked today.”

Yoongi gets to his feet to cross the room, and you fumble awkwardly, trying to keep your dress up. He’s fully put together now in a well-fitted suit and tie, and with his long hair styled and subtle makeup applied to enhance his features, he looks… good. Too good. Deadly. You can’t quite manage to maintain eye contact, and find yourself staring dumbly at the floor instead.

His voice softens slightly as he steps in close to you. “What’s wrong? Does it not fit?”

“It fucking better,” you mutter. “I just… can’t reach the zipper.”

“Are you asking for my help?”

Your gaze flits up to meet his, and you’re a little surprised by his question. “There’s nobody else here,” you retort, stubborn.

When he blinks evenly back at you, like he’s waiting for something, you realize he’s not going to make this easy. Fucking hell. Another tense moment passes, and he just blinks again.

“Yes,” you finally give in with a frustrated sigh. “Will you please help me, Yoongi?”

“Turn around,” he murmurs, and you do.

His hand slides over the small of your back, and then he slowly starts to ease the zipper up. You don’t dare move a muscle until he’s done, and it’s only once he buttons the closure at the top that you breathe a serious sigh of relief. The dress fits like a glove.

You attempt to compose yourself enough to thank him, but the words get stuck in your throat when you feel the heat of his breath against your skin.

His low voice resonates in the quiet of the room as he leans in. “Was that so hard?”

You turn your head as if to argue, but then there’s a split second where you feel his lips brush over your neck, just below your ear. So slight it could’ve been an accident.

“Thanks,” you manage to choke out, and then you slip away from him to get your heels from the bedroom and try to remember how to breathe. You do your best to ignore the fact that your hands are shaking as you pull your shoes on, then pause in front of the full-length mirror on the wardrobe, giving yourself a final once-over.

As you smooth your hands down the black velvet fabric and turn to the side, you glance up to find Yoongi hovering in the threshold, watching you.

“That dress,” he remarks, sounding a little dazed. You have to fight to keep the smile off your face when he trails off, unable to say more— you didn’t think it was possible to make Min Yoongi speechless. It’s not a bad feeling.

And you do like this dress, even though you could never actually afford it. It’s simple but elegant, a sleeveless column style with a plunging neckline and a slit that reaches your mid-thigh. Nothing groundbreaking, but it sticks to your curves like water and makes you feel somewhat more like a person who belongs at a fancy awards show.

“Jimin picked it,” you respond, and you hear Yoongi exhale a laugh.

“He has good taste.”

You turn toward him as your hidden smile pulls into a smirk. “Well, I’m not dressed up for you,” you chide, and you revel in the way his face drops briefly in surprise before he’s able to conceal it. “I’m trying to meet Kendrick.”

“Is that right?”

“Uh-huh.”

You’re thankful that you purposefully padded your schedule with extra time, because you lose nearly every last minute of it stuck in the gridlock of Los Angeles traffic on the night of a huge event.

By the time you make it to the venue, you’re practically nauseous from all the stopping and starting and crawling of the car, and Yoongi looks equally bad, though you suspect his condition might be more anxiety-related.

As it turns out, the Grammys are a lot less glamorous when you’re only mildly famous, at least by American standards. The two of you are shepherded by security to another ‘lane’ of the red carpet and warned not to stop as you make your way into the building. You observe from afar while A-list celebrities pass in a blur, flashbulbs pop bright enough to blind you, and chatter is drowned out by the sound of fans screaming and the clamor of reporters trying to grab the biggest names for an interview.

“I’m so glad I’m not that fucking famous,” Yoongi scoffs, though he doesn’t quite manage to hide the nerves in his voice.

“Come on,” you murmur once you get inside, nodding toward a pop-up bar in a far corner of the lobby. “Take the edge off. And I’m gonna need alcohol if I have to sit through a fucking three-hour show.”

You down your drinks quickly, only a few minutes shy of the time by which you have to be in your seats, and you return from tossing the empties in the trash to see Yoongi eyeing a piano pushed against the far wall, clearly for show. He takes a seat, glancing around as if in fear of getting yelled at, then gently pushes up the key lid.

“Ooh, do Wine!” you tease with a laugh as you drop onto the bench beside him, but he actually does start to play, one foot pressing down on a pedal to keep the sound soft. His fingers alight over the keys, and the song he plucks out is beautiful. It’s a melody that almost feels nostalgic to you, even though you know you’ve never heard it before.

“What is this?” you ask, and he keeps playing as he responds.

“Do you know Sakamoto?”

You hum a no as you shake your head.

His eyes narrow slightly. “Remind me how you work in the music industry?”

A smile plays at your lips, and you roll your eyes. “Shut up. You know I’m a fraud.”

Yoongi doesn’t miss a note when he glances up to meet your gaze. “Are you?”

It’s only now that you realize how close he is: the two of you are basically sitting hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. For a moment, you forget about the Grammys, forget that anyone else is even in the room.

“Excuse me!” A voice snaps you out of the moment, and you scoot away from Yoongi so quickly you nearly topple off the bench. “That’s not meant to be played, and we need everyone to head to their seats, please!” Your face flushes with an embarrassed heat, and Yoongi lifts a hand apologetically as he covers the keys back up.

You stick close to his side so as not to lose him in the large crowd of people. “Bet they’ll let you play whatever piano you want once you have one of those dumb little trophies,” you mutter under your breath, and Yoongi really laughs, like he wasn’t expecting the comment.

Another thing you didn’t necessarily anticipate: the Grammys are fucking long. You knew it would be over three hours, but you realize you severely underestimated how long that time would feel. While the performances are incredible (and you have to dig your nails into the cushion of your seat to keep from squealing when you spot Lil Nas X a few rows in front of you), there’s plenty of filler between them, and it feels a lot drier when you’re physically in the room for it. Even the commercial breaks are far too short for you to have enough time to actually run to the restroom or get another drink.

You’re also starving. “I hate that they don’t serve food at these things,” you hiss to Yoongi during a break, but it’s late enough in the night now that he’s barely speaking, apart from the occasional monotone grunt. 

Though you’ve been waiting for it all evening, you still don’t quite know if you’re ready when the host starts to run down the list of nominees for Song of the Year.

As he’s only credited as a writer, they don’t actually say Yoongi’s pseudonym, but pride still squeezes tight in your chest when you see “Suga” spelled out across the on-stage monitors beneath the name of the song.

They get through all the titles in what seems like less than a second, and your heart feels like it might give out as an anticipatory silence settles over the crowd. The host fumbles with getting the envelope open, and you’re so tense, you flinch hard at an unexpected brush of contact.

You glance down, and it takes a moment for your brain to process what’s happened. He’s not looking at you, hasn’t said anything, but Yoongi has nevertheless reached over to grab your hand. His long fingers lace through yours, gripping surprisingly tight, and the skin of his palm is warm and dry. It’s like your brain short-circuits for a moment as you stare stupidly at your joined hands, and he gives yours a single nervous squeeze.

“And the Grammy goes to…”

You look over at him, still dumbfounded, and then you hear them call a song that isn’t his.

Your heart sinks as you watch Yoongi blink up at the screen, his mouth pulled into a flat line. You realize belatedly you’re supposed to be clapping, but his hand is still clasped in yours. And you don’t want to pull away from him.

But then he moves first, untwining his hand from yours and bringing it up to rake through his hair with a disbelieving laugh. A little delayed, you both join in the applause as the winner makes their way to the stage. You can’t even process who it is.

You have no idea what to say to console him, so you don’t say anything at all.

Thankfully the category is one of the last of the night, so you only have to sit through a few more rounds of acceptance speeches and watching other people’s dreams come true before you can finally get to your feet. You feel like you can’t leave fast enough as you’re herded out of the stadium and into another car to depart for the afterparty.

There’s a heavy silence in the backseat that feels like a chasm between you as you crawl through Los Angeles traffic.

You realize there’s a bottle of champagne tucked into an ice bucket behind the front seat— a thoughtful touch from the label execs, you assume. Yoongi spots it at the same time you do, and he immediately reaches for it. With a grunt of effort, he pops the cork, a little bit of excess foam dribbling onto the floor of the car.

He raises his eyebrows at you, then brings the bottle right to his mouth for a long drink. Longer than long. You watch his adam’s apple jump in his throat as he swallows several times.

“Alright, chill the fuck out,” you snap after a few seconds, reaching over to grab it from him. “At least eat something first.”

“It’s my consolation prize,” Yoongi quips, but he lets you wrest the champagne from his hands without resisting. You take a thorough swig yourself, then recork the bottle and drop it back in the bucket. “Such a good little admin,” he purrs, and you try to convince yourself there isn’t a hint of venom in his words.

The car pulls to a stop at the designated hotel, and you climb out after Yoongi. Upon making it inside, the two of you peel off in different directions: him for the bar, and you to find anything that remotely resembles food. You keep glancing over at him from across the room as it fills with more and more people, nervous to take your eyes off him for too long, unsure of what he might do. Every time you find him again, it seems like he’s downing another glass of whiskey, drinking like the fucking world is ending.

Meanwhile, you’re struggling to find anything that isn’t kale, quinoa, or… whatever grain-free bread is. With a frustrated sigh, you finally decide to give up. If Yoongi wants to drink on an empty stomach until he gets alcohol poisoning, you figure that’s his fucking problem.

When you shove your way through the crowd back toward him, you find that he’s been pulled into a conversation with a bunch of older men you can only assume to be local industry reps. As you get close enough to make out their words, you quickly understand why he has such a sour look on his face.

“Song of the Year, huh? You know we can cross-reference the nominees and figure out if you’re full of shit, right?”

Yoongi grimaces politely into his drink as he throws it back, but you have no problem cutting in. “You’re actually speaking to an incredibly accomplished producer and songwriter,” you retort without thinking. “He has over 100 KOMCA credits.” You don’t miss the smirk Yoongi tries to conceal behind the rim of his glass.

“KOMCA?” Another one of them speaks up, the question paired with a harsh laugh. “Never heard of it. That anything like payola?”

“Wild that anyone can just buy their way into the industry these days.” The first man shakes his head, eyes scanning Yoongi up and down as if the tailoring of his suit tells him everything he needs to know. “Guess that’s the way the world works now. Never had to struggle a day in your life, huh?”

Your response is immediate and far too loud. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

A loud laugh ripples through all of the men, clearly more excited about evoking a reaction than the gravity of their claims. “Wow, man,” the one who spoke first chortles, clapping Yoongi hard on the shoulder. “Looks like you need to control your girl.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch Yoongi shrug off the guy’s hand to set his empty glass down on the closest table. He moves slowly, deliberately taking a long pause before correcting them. “This is actually my assistant.” His voice is laced with a deadly calm you know well.

“Assistant?” A third pipes up, acting as if he’s never heard the word before. “Huh. You know, back in my day we just called them secretaries. Or mistresses.”

Yoongi moves so fast you barely have time to process it, lunging forward and shoving the guy in the chest with enough force that he stumbles backwards into his shitty friends. “What the fuck!” one of them shouts, purposefully loud, and you can hear a ripple of shock roll through the crowd, can see heads turning to look your way in alarm.

“No, no, nope,” you immediately mutter. “This is not fucking happening.”

Yoongi is already taking another step toward the group, and you tighten a hand hard around his bicep. “We’re leaving.”

When he whips around to face you, the mixture of anger and pain reflected in his dark eyes is so overwhelming, it hits you like a truck. You try to force yourself to stay calm, because at least one of you has to be.

“Come on, Yoongi,” you say, letting your voice soften. “Fuck this place. I need some real food.” Your eyes search his, pleading. For a moment, you can’t help but wonder if you’re staring down an enemy or a friend.

But then you see the fight go out of him as he nods, and you breathe a silent sigh of relief.

Shifting the hand on his arm to press firmly to the center of his back, you guide him in front of you and wind through the packed room of people until you make your way outside again.

Fate does you one good turn by leaving an empty cab out front, and you push Yoongi into the backseat, then slide in next to him. You lean forward to greet the driver, doing your best to smile politely and act composed, like you didn’t just almost get into a fight at the Grammys afterparty.

“Can you take us to Koreatown, please?”

~*~

The cab drops you off outside a strip of bars and restaurants, lit up with neon signs in both English and Korean. To his credit, Yoongi seems more subdued as he follows you out of the car wordlessly, but you allow him a little more time to cool off in silence. You wander somewhat aimlessly, attempting to shake off your lingering anxiety in the warm evening air, until you stumble upon a food truck parked at the end of the block. Your eyes go wide at the posted signage.

“What do you think?” you ask as you turn to Yoongi, and he shrugs, like he really doesn’t care. Perfect. You’ve never had a problem a gamja hot dog couldn’t fix.

Securing one for each of you, you nod Yoongi toward a small group of tables set up at the curb to sit down. Once seated, you immediately drown your hot dog in ketchup and mustard, and you can hear him scoff before taking the bottles from you to do the same. Admittedly, you must look fairly ridiculous eating fried street food in full black tie, but you’re far too hungry to give a fuck right now.

It’s perfection from the first bite, crispy and hot, the batter studded with potato pieces and the inside loaded with cheese.

You’re also too hungry to bother making conversation at first, but after a few more bites you glance over at Yoongi, and your heart sinks all over again. You really do feel bad, and then the words are leaving your mouth before you can stop them.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur with your mouth full. “That you didn’t win.”

He makes a face as he chews. “We already agreed I wouldn’t have been happy even if I won, right? So it doesn’t really matter.”

You roll your eyes, unconvinced. “It’s okay to have feelings, you know. You’re allowed to be upset.”

Yoongi just shrugs, but he can’t quite meet your gaze. “It’s whatever.” You take another bite as he continues. “If I’m gonna win a Grammy, I want it to be for something that’s all mine anyway.”

The sentence surprises you, and you blink back at him. “You’re going to release your own stuff?”

As if he instantly regrets bringing it up, his face reddens a little, his expression twisting into an unsure grimace. “Ahh… I don’t know, probably not. People know me as a producer. I don’t know that anyone would actually listen to it.”

“I would,” you say without even really thinking, and his eyes widen. “You know,” you continue quickly, adopting a fake-serious tone. “Since I work in the music industry. Strictly business.”

A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth, and you find yourself relieved to see it. “I appreciate that.”

You’re also desperately curious, wondering if he’ll say more about his own music, but he goes quiet again. Given the night he’s had, you don’t exactly want to push it.

Taking the final bite of your hot dog and mourning the loss, you stack your skewer and paper tray on top of Yoongi’s, then get to your feet to toss them in the nearest trash can. When you return to the table, you smack your palms decisively against it.

“Come on. I think the circumstances call for some binge drinking.”

Your first stop is tucked into two seats at a neighboring dive bar, alive and roaring with enough ambient conversation that you have to speak fairly loudly to be heard over the noise. The bar in the center of the room is wrapped around a small open kitchen, where you watch the line cooks hustle to steam, grill, and fry what seems like a never-ending rush of food orders.

You and Yoongi stick to soju, pouring each other shot after shot. On the first one, he tilts his full glass toward you, and you knock yours against it.

“To losing,” he toasts, and you can’t help laughing as you tip your head back to drink. He’s smirking as he swallows his down, then pours you another. “Hey, maybe Jungkook will throw me a commiseration party when we get back.”

You grimace automatically at the name as you take the bottle from him to fill his glass up, and Yoongi doesn’t miss it. “Trouble in paradise?”

With a roll of your eyes, you determine that you need to be drunker for this. You take your shot, then instantly hold your glass out for Yoongi to pour another before he even gets to his. He obliges, and you throw it back immediately. The bottom of your glass hits the bar with a loud thud.

“I kinda… freaked out on him. Right before we left.”

Yoongi’s eyebrow lifts, questioning, as he drinks. “Any reason?” he prompts when he’s finished.

“Yes,” you answer stubbornly, tapping at the rim of your empty glass. He fills you up again, and you return the favor to finish the bottle. Yoongi motions to the bartender for another as you down your shot and steel yourself.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he offers.

“Don’t you want to hear that you were right?”

He shrugs like he can’t argue. “I mean, always.”

“Well for one, he asked if anything was going on between you and me.” You glance over to see Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly as he drinks. “I said no.”

“Uh huh.”

“And then he was like, ‘Good, I’m glad I don’t have to tell you to raise your standards.’”

Yoongi is clearly trying to keep his expression neutral, but it’s a losing battle. You can see the way his shoulders are starting to shake, and then he finally caves in, his palm smacking flat against the bar as he really laughs. “Wow,” he eventually recovers enough to huff, and you reach for the fresh soju bottle that’s been dropped off. “He really just said it.”

“Mm-hmm,” you intone, filling his glass and then handing the bottle back. Yoongi’s still chuckling a little as he pours your drink before taking his own, and you continue. “And then, I don’t know, there was some other stuff, and I was just like… oh fuck.”

“Because you realized he’s in love with you.”

You sigh dejectedly into your soju. “I’m so stupid.”

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, reaching for your glass once you’ve emptied it again. “You wanted to avoid an inconvenient truth. Just makes you human.”

There’s a pause as you take the bottle to pour his drink, and then his next words nearly make you choke as you throw back yours. “You should date Jungkook.”

You’re sure you must look entirely dumbfounded as you stare at him. “What?”

“What?” he retorts, like he hasn’t said anything shocking. “He’d be good for you.”

For a long moment, neither of you speak as you regard him. You finally shake your head, nudging your empty glass toward him until he gets the memo. “Don’t say shit like that,” you mutter under your breath, and you’re not sure if he hears it over the din of the bar.

“Besides,” you continue as you snatch the soju out of his hands to pour his drink, “I’ve tried dating a coworker before. It’s a bad idea.”

“Sounds like a good story.”

“It’s not, really,” you murmur, staring down at the liquid in your glass. “My last job I was a waitress.”

“Mm,” Yoongi interrupts with a hum as he takes his shot. “Waitress. I was close.”

You pour him another, mostly to keep him quiet. “Yeah yeah, you’re very fucking perceptive. Anyway, I dated another server for a couple years. He ended up cheating on me with one of the hostesses, but I was honestly kinda tired of him, so I was glad to end it.” You hear Yoongi snort a little at your fairly heartless admission. “But then I walked in on them fucking in the walk-in, and it put me in a bad mood. Long story short, I ended up throwing a drink on a customer and they had to let me go.”

“Christ,” he laughs, pausing for a moment to fully take in your words. “And now you’re a pain in my ass.”

You roll your eyes as you motion for another soju bottle. “Correct.”

“Sounds like your ex was an idiot.” You glance over to find Yoongi already looking at you. “I mean, in the walk-in is just… nasty.”

“That’s what I said!” Your mouth pulls up at the corners as you try to suppress a giggle. “I don’t think we can really judge anybody though.”

Yoongi blinks, staring blankly into the middle distance. “That conference room trash can condom still haunts me.”

With a loud laugh, you bury your face in your hands, and you can feel your cheeks burning from alcohol and embarrassment. You peer between your fingers as Yoongi sets down a fresh shot for you, and you gladly take it.

“People are stupid,” he remarks wisely. “That’s why I don’t date.” You quirk an eyebrow as he passes you the bottle.

“What, a prize like you?” you deadpan. “You just fuck people in bar bathrooms like a well-adjusted human?”

“Yeah,” he admits with a shrug. “So. Wanna check this one out?”

Your mouth drops open in disbelief, and you immediately smack him on the arm. He nearly spills his drink from laughter, and you can’t keep yourself from laughing a little, too. “I already gave it to you this morning, you freak.”

“Come on,” Yoongi’s voice is teasing, and he bumps his shoulder against yours when he leans in closer. “I had a hard night.”

Pouring him another drink is your only distraction, and you do it with the utmost focus. “This dress is a rental.”

“I can pay for it.” The heat of his breath ghosts over your collarbone as he answers. You shove the bottle hard into his chest, and he takes the cue to fill your glass again, still smirking as he pulls away.

“First,” you say, sounding more confident than you feel, especially with the way your pulse has started to quicken. Your expression is deadly serious as you turn to stare into Yoongi’s eyes and he stares right back. “You have to prove that you can keep up.”

When you swallow your shot easily to punctuate the dare, a look flashes over Yoongi’s face like he’s impressed, and then he follows your lead.

After a few more bottles, the bar is so crowded and so loud that you can hardly hear yourselves think, and you stumble out of it and into the next place you see, and then the next, and then the next. All bets are off tonight, and you’re not about to tell Yoongi that he can’t get fucking trashed considering he just lost at the fucking Grammys. You figure you’ll be able to sleep off your hangovers on the stupidly long flight home tomorrow.

With each stop, Yoongi’s mood seems to improve a little. He eventually drinks enough that his suit jacket and tie come off, and they end up draped over your shoulders, despite your loud protests that you don’t need any more responsibilities. With the sleeves of his white button-down pushed up, it gets increasingly hard to divert your attention away from his hands and the muscles in his forearms, especially as you get progressively drunker and drunker.

Yoongi’s palm brushes over the small of your back as you make your way out of the last place, his touch warm even through the velvet of your dress.

“I know it was your personal nightmare,” he murmurs, words slurring together slightly, “but I really am glad you came on this trip. I mean it,” he insists when you shoot him a look. “I would be fucking insufferable if I was alone tonight. And I definitely would’ve punched that label guy in the face.”

You exhale a laugh and nearly fall over in your heels, and Yoongi’s hand slips to your waist to keep you upright. “He deserved it.” You lean into him, not entirely for balance, and you can feel it when he shrugs.

“Sorry you didn’t get to meet Kendrick.”

The glow of the various open-late establishments and the glitter of the pavement under your feet are all beautiful, especially in your current state, and the night air is still and warm. As you approach the next building and are met with the dull thud of music, your eyes go wide.

“Oh, I just figured out how you can make it up to me.”

The noraebang is surprisingly busy given that it’s a Sunday night, but you’re still able to book a room, and you giggle your thanks as Yoongi opens his wallet to pay the hourly rate like it’s nothing. The two of you work your way through more bottles of beer and soju, and when you start up the karaoke and teasingly pick the HEIZE song he produced, you’re surprised that he actually joins you.

Yoongi must be able to read the expression on your face, because he smirks mid-song. “Let the record show that I am actually a very fun drunk.”

And he is. You sing dramatically and loudly, not caring if you hit the notes, jumping and dancing and occasionally dropping passionately to your knees before dissolving into laughter. At first you monopolize the controller, but after you force a third Kendrick song on him Yoongi gestures for it, and you begrudgingly hand it over.

Crossing the room, you kneel down to dig through the provided box of props, immediately spotting and slipping on a cat-eared headband. You glance up at the screen, eyes widening as you realize he’s searching through Epik High songs. “Do Love Love Love!”

When you look back at him, Yoongi is squinting at you, laughing a little at your new set of ears. “What the fuck do you know about Epik High?”

“What do you mean what the fuck do I know?” you snap back. “I love them! I should be asking you that question, Mr. ‘I don’t listen to music’!”

His mouth pulls into a grin, his tongue toying at the inside of his cheek. “I have a few exceptions, alright?”

Still knelt down, you flop sideways onto the floor when he selects Born Hater. “Ugh, I’m too drunk to say that many words.”

“I got this,” Yoongi reassures you, flipping his microphone coolly with one hand as he gets to his feet. You can’t help giggling dumbly from your spot on the ground as you drunkenly prop your feet on the booth and reach up to pull your high heels off.

If there’s one thing tonight has taught you, it’s that Yoongi has a really good voice, even raw and live and drunk as hell. You don’t know why it surprises you, but it does. To you, performing seems like a different world from writing and producing tracks, but he does it just as effortlessly, with no trace of the anxiety you’ve seen grip him in a crowded room. The passion in the way he growls and gasps out lyrics, even just in the way he moves, it’s all undeniable and exhilarating to watch. He raps like he has nothing left to lose, mouth pulled into a snarl, occasionally reaching up to push his sweaty hair back off his forehead.

You can only gaze up at him, awestruck, wondering how many different versions of Min Yoongi you have left to discover until you hit the bottom.

The two of you trade the controller back and forth until every bottle on the table is empty, until the words blur on the screen, until Yoongi flops over to lay down in the booth with his head hanging off the edge, clearly exhausted. “No more,” he groans. “I’m so tired. And so drunk.”

Hovering above him, you pry the controller from his grip with a smile, slipping the cat ears onto his head for an even exchange. And then you get an idea.

“Last song!” you assure him as you type, and he groans even louder when Cat & Dog starts to play.

“God, this song is terrible,” Yoongi complains, but you’re singing too loud to care about his critiques.

With a severe amount of effort, he pulls himself to a sitting position, and you kneel down in front of him, miming cat paws with your hands and wiggling your hips. “I didn’t know you were into petplay,” he deadpans, and you stick your tongue out, determined not to let him ruin your fun.

You get to your feet and turn toward the screen as the second chorus finishes, yelling over your shoulder, “This is my favorite part!”

“Feel like Cinderella naega byeonae—”

When Yoongi’s voice suddenly reverberates from the other microphone, you almost drop yours. You whip around in complete disbelief. He’s on his feet and moving towards you as he continues the rap verse, the inarguable best part, with a renewed cocky energy. And you have to admit, he’s putting Yeonjun to shame.

“What the fuck!” you practically scream, but he just keeps going.

Seized by full-body drunk laughter, you stumble forward and nearly fall over, knocking into his chest. Though Yoongi’s reflexes are a little delayed, he still manages to right you without missing a word, one arm hooking around your waist. You swallow hard as you suddenly find yourself intimately close to the broad sweep of his collarbone, exposed between the top buttons of his shirt that came undone at some point during your debaucherous evening.

Fumbling for your microphone, you make it back to reality in time for the final chorus, only to fall entirely to pieces when Yoongi starts barking at full volume to match the outro. You can’t take it, and he’s not fast enough to keep you upright, so you drop straight down to the floor on hands and knees, laughing so hard it feels like your lungs might give out.

The microphone rolls dejectedly out of your grasp as you flop over onto your back, and you scrub your hands down your face, trying desperately to catch your breath as the song fades out.

“That was the best thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” you mumble into your palms. You uncover your face to look up at Yoongi, only to find him laughing down at you, still wearing the fucking cat headband. “I thought you hated that song.”

He rolls his eyes despite his smile. “Yeah, well, it was also stuck in my head for like a week after you played it that one night.”

You sit up with a dramatic glare. “Oh, you mean the night you stole my fucking keys?”

A proud smirk flickers over his mouth. “You know, I am sorry about that. Or at least sorry I couldn’t see the look on your face when you realized.” He tosses his microphone onto the booth bench next to his abandoned suit jacket, then reaches down with both hands to pull you to your feet. It belatedly occurs to you that you might’ve left his tie at the last bar, but you’re too drunk to give it another thought.

“I hate you so much,” you say, though you can’t quite keep your expression serious. “Fuck, I should’ve taken a video. Could’ve used it for blackmail.”

Yoongi’s voice is lower when he speaks again, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close to you he is, the fact that his hands are still closed over yours. “Guess you’re the only one who’ll ever know.”

“Mmm,” you hum, swaying a little where you stand. His palms slip to your waist to keep you steady as you blink up at him, and your hands flatten against his chest, your fingertips tracing over the buttons of his shirt. “You look good in cat ears.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi murmurs, and then his mouth is on yours.

Your hands reach up to tangle in his long dark hair, knocking the headband to the floor, and with the amount of alcohol currently coursing through your system, you don’t have a single inhibition left in you. You kiss Yoongi like you can’t fucking breathe without him.

He pulls you as close as he can, until your bodies are flush all the way down, and you don’t ever want it to be any other way. You want it just like this, sucking and nibbling at his bottom lip until his tongue licks your mouth open and you groan into him. Just like this: his palms moving down to grab your ass unapologetically, your grip on his hair tightening, even your teeth knocking together with how drunk and desperate you are for each other. Just like this: two stupid, wildly flawed humans in black tie attire, making out in a Ktown noraebang at two in the morning on a Monday.

The sound of the door opening might as well be a gunshot for how loud it feels, and you just barely manage to jump apart as an employee pokes their head in.

“Hey, we’re closing in five.”

You don’t realize you’re not breathing until you hear the door click shut again, and your gasp for air quickly turns into an overwhelmed, embarrassed laugh. Yoongi groans drunkenly, running a hand through his hair, then sighs out a long exhale, like he’s trying to calm down.

“Come on,” you giggle, still close enough to tug playfully at one of his belt loops. “Let’s get out of here.”

Thankfully a cab is still easy to flag down even this late. The two of you manage to pour yourselves into the backseat and give the driver the name of the hotel. It’s not a terribly long drive, and you watch wide-eyed out the window as the sprawl of Los Angeles rushes by, painted in neon glow and the amber wash of streetlights.

Yoongi slumps against you, and he goes quiet for so long you think he might be asleep. When he finally shifts again, he presses his face into your shoulder with a noise of discomfort, and you’re suddenly worried he might be silent for a very different reason.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice low. “Don’t puke in the cab.”

“Stupid,” he responds, and you figure he must not be doing that bad if he can still talk.

You run your fingers through the soft, dark strands of his hair, admiring the texture, the way it’s nearly long enough now to graze his shoulders. “What’s stupid?”

“I’m—” he tries, but the car dips over a pothole, and he’s talking so quietly you lose the rest.

“You’re what?”

It’s quiet for a moment, save for the click of the turn signal.

“In love with you.”

His words stun you where you sit, and you have no idea what to do, say, think. You just keep twining your fingers through his hair, like you’re stuck on auto-pilot, distantly aware that every alarm bell in your inebriated brain is going off. It feels like way too much to try and process any of it right now. It feels like a trap.

“We can talk about this tomorrow,” you finally answer. Yoongi just stays slumped against you, and he doesn’t say another word.

The cab drops you off at the hotel, and it’s quiet between the two of you as you get him up to the room. You feel like you’re watching yourself from a distance, and it’s like your brain isn’t processing any of this as really happening, as if to keep you from thinking too hard about the big picture. From what it all could mean.

In the bathroom, you stand over the sink as you lend Yoongi your makeup remover and you both brush your teeth.

“Contacts,” you remind him through a mouthful of toothpaste when he spits out the last of his, and he nods sleepily.

“You don’t have to… administrate me all the time,” Yoongi slurs as he carefully slips one lens and then the other out of his eyes.

You spit out your own toothpaste, then sigh as you rinse the sink clean. “Well, you’re very drunk, and it’s my fault.”

“It was fun,” he says quietly, fumbling the case closed.

“It was,” you echo. “Really.” 

The bathroom door is half-open on its sliding track, and you glance up in the mirror to see Yoongi hovering in the threshold, looking back at you as you wipe away stray traces of mascara from under your eyes. You think he’s going to leave, but then he steps in behind you again, and you feel his hand slide up the small of your back to ease the zipper of your dress open.

Something in your heart twists as you stare down at the marble counter, and you can already tell this isn’t meant to be flirtatious. That thought is confirmed when you finally look up, only to find yourself left entirely alone.

With a small sigh, you slide the bathroom door shut, then flip the switch to turn on the fan. The white noise still doesn’t feel like enough, so you run the shower as well, then grab a plastic water bottle from the counter to chug. You retreat into the far corner with your phone, scrolling until you find the name of the only person who can possibly help you right now.

“Hey babe,” Jimin answers on the third ring. “I’m at rehearsal so I really can’t chat. You good?”

“Yoongi said he loves me,” you answer immediately, and the reality of it hits you impossibly hard as soon as you say it out loud.

“Uh-oh.”

“But,” you lean back until your head knocks against the wall. “He’s drunk as shit. I— we are drunk as shit.”

There’s a pause, and you swear you hear Jimin laugh a little under his breath. “He really said it, huh?”

“Yes, Jimin,” you groan. “In love.”

“And?”

You grimace at the flippant response from your supposed best friend. “What do you mean and?! What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Well, that depends,” Jimin starts.

“On?” you snap, impatient.

“Have you realized you’re in love with him yet? ‘Cause if I have to hear you babble on about this man for another week without piecing it together, I really might lose it.”

His words actually make your stomach churn. “Jimin!”

“I—” he sounds like he’s preparing to explain himself, but then he pauses, and his voice is quieter when he speaks again. “Fuck, I’m getting yelled at. I gotta go. Call me tomorrow.”

You want to scream at him to stay, to help, that he can’t just unravel you like this and then leave you to figure it out for yourself. “Mochi, I’m on the fucking plane tomorrow—”

“I’ll come over when you get home!” Jimin interrupts. “And then you can tell me the entire story of you two finally figuring out how to be normal humans with feelings.” You scoff at his biting remark, but he’s already talking over you. “You’re smart, you got this, I love you!”

You hear him blow a dramatic kiss into the speaker, and then the line goes dead.

The world spins around you as you stare helplessly at the silent black screen of your phone, and you can’t shove it all down anymore. It’s overwhelming, all of the things that you’re feeling in this moment, so much so that you can’t even identify what you feel. It’s just a giant, tangled mess, in your brain and in your heart. The tears spill out like you’ve been holding them in for weeks, hard and fast, until you can scarcely catch your breath. You scrub at the first few that roll down your cheeks, but they continue relentlessly, and you eventually give up and just let it all pour out.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, crying on the bathroom floor. You can’t even really explain why you’re crying, except that everything inside of you feels like too much to handle.

There’s a dull ache in your head by the time you finally manage to cry yourself dry, and then you peel yourself off the floor to slip out of your dress and shut off the shower. You pull on the tank top and sleep shorts you’d grabbed earlier from the bedroom, trying to avoid your swollen face in the mirror as you turn the lights out and shut the door behind you.

Yoongi has left the lamp on your bedside on, and you immediately flip it off to plunge the room into darkness, not wanting him to see you like this. He stirs slightly when you slip under the covers, and you can feel the mattress shift as he turns over.

Like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his arm slides over your stomach to pull your body flush to his, and his lips brush at the join of your neck and shoulder. As confusing as it should be, there’s something about the weight of him pressed into you that relaxes you, even through your current haze of emotion. You allow yourself to sink back against him, to breathe deeper, though your inhales are still a little shaky.

Yoongi’s rough voice in your ear pulls you up from the edge of sleep. “Did I fuck everything up?”

You sniff softly, and your own reply is barely more than a whisper. “No, Yoongi, it’s okay. Let’s just sleep."

As you hear him settle in beside you again, you make a promise that you’ll deal with the fallout tomorrow. You’ll figure out how you really feel, and how he does, and what you want, and what the hell you’re supposed to do about it all. But tonight, you just want this: to lay here with Yoongi and pretend your entire world isn’t about to change when you wake up.

chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten

A/N: oh hiiiiii, super secret bonus author's note down here!!! just wanted to share that, now that we're officially through the grammys, that means we are down to just two more chapters left in the series!!! i held off confirming the full length of LDOMLT until we got to this point (and honestly i could've easily split this into two chapters but i am NICE and i did not give you the WORST CLIFFHANGER OF ALL TIME LMAO) - but now i'm sure. chapter 11 will be the final one. gonna do my best to get 10 and 11 up before end of year, or by very early 2023 at the latest!!! and thank u, as always, for reading 💜💜💜

[multiland]

Hurts So Good - YJH

summary: It’s been a while since Jeonghan and you broke up, and although you try to deny how much you miss him, no one else is buying it and that leads your closest friends to make a plan to set the two of you back together.

pairing: Jeonghan x Female reader.

genre: exes to lovers!au, college!au, non-idol!au, angst, smut and fluffy ending.

warnings: soft dom!Jeonghan, dirty talking, make up sex, sex on the floor, teasing, brief cunnilingus, unprotected sex, slight fingering, lots of making out, sexual tension.

word count: around 8k

song rec: Hurts so good by Astrid S

Time heals the wounds, or that’s what they say. You’ve heard all your life that nothing stays forever, that feelings change and people move on... Then why couldn’t you stop feeling that way?

It was clear that nothing worked the way it supposed to when it came to Jeonghan.

Two years and a half of loving one another. A passion immeasurable, a chemistry that sparked brighter than the stars above the cities, something that could be close enough to taste and touch not only for you, but for those around you.

A love like a hurricane, intense, loud, strong... But like hurricanes always do, it swept away everything in its way, including your hearts.

Somewhere along the lines, the same intensity your feelings held showed up in the differences between the two of you. It all went from small arguments to big fights where you would scream things you didn’t really mean. You hurt each other several times with words, with distance, with coldness... Just to find yourselves having make up sex on the same night.

But you knew better. You knew it was a matter of time before one of you got tired and called it quits. What you didn’t expect, though, was that the both of you would bring it up at the same time.

He had left the apartment and went back to the dorms, leaving you all alone with a heavy heart crying yourself to sleep in the same bed you had shared every night. You had felt cold, lonely, broken. It was hard for you to find your old self again, especially when you had to face him almost every single day at college.

Unfortunately for you, Jeonghan had the same circle of friends as you did, which meant that although you tried your best to avoid him, you would eventually find yourselves sitting on the same table more often than you’d like to admit.

Seungcheol was your best friend, the one you spent most of the time with. You could even say you felt sorry for the number of times you had cried over Jeonghan to him or even asked him to go somewhere else with you. Being the kind-hearted man that he was, he never said no as long as that meant you’d feel better.

But as the time went by, you decided that it wasn’t fair for him, so you just went along with the whole thing and whenever you had to face Jeonghan, you would just play it cool and act like nothing ever happened.

If he was so happy and fine without you, why wouldn’t you be the same way?

In truth, you didn’t speak to him. Whenever the two of you had tried to make conversation, you’d end up bickering like a cat and a dog. The atmosphere was always tense and it seemed like you were not only exes but also enemies.

But how could you not react that way when he had always some sneaky remark to throw at you? His cockiness and the way he was always finding excuses to tease you made your blood boil. It was like he just enjoyed seeing you mad, smirking whenever he found you rolling your eyes at him or those few times when you would just stand up from the table and leave with a bitter response to his not-so-funny jokes.

Sometimes you wondered why did you even date him... And others, you just wanted him back. However, you’d never admit it, not even to yourself.

It was a warm morning at the campus, you were sitting with Seungcheol, Minghao, and Vernon while you discussed the topic you had picked for your final project. You had already eaten your lunch, so you were just focused on Seungcheol and the book he had in his hands, with Minghao on the other side-eyeing the content at the same time.

“So you’re going to talk about blind-color people? Explain the theories of color to them, when they can’t see what you mean?” Seungcheol asked with a frown, glancing at you momentarily as you nodded, just before he looked back at the book.

“My idea is... Try to find a way to explain colors to people who can’t see them. Like... Finding a way for them to at least imagine it, as close as possible.”

“Isn’t that a little... Impossible?” Minghao asked this time, cocking his head to the side. You sighed, knowing perfectly well that most of the people would find your idea far-fetched.

“Nothing’s impossible.” You affirmed. “If you can help blind people imagine the world they can't see, why wouldn’t you be able to help blind-color people do the same?”

“Well... I mean, it’s-” Seungcheol started in hesitation, just to be interrupted by Vernon clearing his throat.

“I think she can do it.” He stated, making the three of you look at him. “She’s right. Nothing’s impossible, I bet someone has tried before, she just needs to find a more interactive way to try it out.”

You smiled in satisfaction at your friend.

“Exactly! See? At least someone has faith in me, unlike others.” You mumbled, pouting at your best friend, who just chuckled and lifted his hand to gently pat your head.

“I’m sorry. I do have faith in you, I just don’t know much about the topic.”

You smiled at the way Seungcheol looked at you, his eyes always reflected adoration towards anyone close to his heart. You could never stay mad at him.

Just then, you heard chairs being dragged on the floor. As soon as you looked up, there he was; Yoon Jeonghan in all his glory. Long and silky locks of blond hair, sparkly dark orbs sitting next to Vernon and parallel to you. Joshua had arrived as well, sitting on the other side next to Vernon.

Joshua smiled and you smiled back at him. He was a good guy, a good friend, and a kind person to be around. However, the atmosphere immediately turned heavy as soon as the prince-looking guy you used to love opened his mouth.

He extended his arm and snatched the book from Seungcheol, eyeing it quickly before his lips curled upwards in a smirk.

“What is this?”

“It’s her final project. She’s going to talk about finding ways for blind-color people to be able to imagine the way the colors look.” Minghao explained, resting his elbows on the table.

Jeonghan looked up at you and arched a brow.

“You know that’s impossible, right?”

You frowned, clenching your jaw at his obvious provocations.

“It’s not.” You simply said. “Nothing is, I’ve already studied a lot of things like the way the brain reacts to certain stimuli, and what is lacking to make people unable to see colors. It’s just about finding a way to set it all together.” Jeonghan just chuckled and closed the book.

“There are things you can’t control.” He retorted. “What you’re trying to do is like... Trying to find a way for hybrid animals to be impregnated. It just can’t be.”

You scoffed.

“Do you know what science is? It’s 2021 already. We’re living in a time where you can even literally make clones, gestate babies using an artificial womb, and much more. Do you think this would be impossible? You’re short-minded then, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan stared at you with the same smirk plastered on his face, listening attentively to every word you said to shut him up just to end up sighing.

“Alright, whatever you say, doll.”

“Do not call me that.”

Jeonghan crossed his arms over his chest, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Why? You’ve always loved when I call you that, doll.”

You could feel the annoyance growing within you. You knew perfectly fine you shouldn’t have let him get to you, but it was really hard for you to keep your cool.

“Han, just leave her alone,” Joshua said, palming Jeonghan’s shoulder from behind Vernon. Jeonghan just let out a breathy chuckle.

“What am I doing? I’m just stating facts.” He shrugged. “If she believes she can illustrate people about something they have never experienced then so be it.”

“Wow, you’re making it sound like I’m delusional.”

Jeonghan licked his lips, leaning forward on his elbows over the table to look straight into your eyes.

“I wouldn’t say delusional... Just innocent.”

You took a deep breath through your nose and stood up from your seat. The eyes of your friends including Jeonghan’s followed your actions as you grabbed your bag and hiked it on your shoulder.

“Hey, where are you going?” Seungcheol asked in concern the moment you picked the book from the table. Glancing at him momentarily.

“I’m just done dealing with Jeonghan and his annoying ass.” You responded, glaring at the latter one last time before storming out of the cafeteria.

Seungcheol sighed, lacing his fingers over the table and looking straight into Jeonghan’s eyes.

“That was uncalled for.” He said calmly. Jeonghan just clicked his tongue.

“I was just teasing her. It’s not my fault if she takes everything I say by heart.”

“Nah, you went far this time. You called her ignorant.” Joshua spoke, making his best friend roll his eyes.

“I did not. I just said it was innocent to think she could be able to find answers to a question that has been going around for ages.”

“But why put her down on that, though?” Vernon asked.

“And not only this time... But whenever you both share the same space.” Seungcheol addressed.

“Come on, it’s no biggie.” Jeonghan insisted.

“The thing I don’t know is, why do you keep acting like an asshole around her? You dated for almost three years, we know better than this. What are you trying to prove? That you moved on from her?” Joshua snapped, making Jeonghan frown at him. The rest of the boys just stared dumbfounded.

“The hell you talking about, Shua? Why did you need to bring the past up?”

“Because it honestly seems like you’re using this attitude to convince yourself that you’re over her.”

Jeonghan let out a humorless laugh.

“You’re against me today, I see...”

Joshua shook his head.

“I’m not. I’m just sick of you acting like a teenager.”

Jeonghan poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, standing up.

“Alright. It’s enough, I’ll see you around.” He said, turning on his heels and walking away, annoyed.

Joshua sighed, pressing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Minghao, on the other hand, cleared his throat to gain his attention.

“I gotta go, my class is about to start.” He stood from his seat, throwing one last piece of bread into his mouth before grabbing his bag.

“Yeah, me too. See you later hyungs, good luck.” Vernon added, following behind Minghao and exiting the cafeteria.

With that, Seungcheol and Joshua looked at each other, both with concern plastered on their features.

“I don’t think I can keep handling this situation,” Joshua confessed, Seungcheol agreed with a nod.

“Same, and to be fair, I know she reacts that way only because it’s Jeonghan. If it was someone else, she would just shrug it off.”

“And we know Jeonghan is looking desperately for her attention with his jerkiness. It seems like the only ones who don’t want to face the truth are them.”

“I think it was better off when they were together.” Seungcheol sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Listen, we don’t need to be geniuses to notice they still have feelings for each other, and we better do something about it before they split the whole group in two.”

Seungcheol looked at Joshua curiously, licking his lips.

“What should we do about it?”

Joshua smiled.

“I have a plan, and you’re going to help me.”

Friday had finally arrived, and you were excited to just spend some quality time alone at home watching Netflix on your favorite pajamas and eating the snacks you loved the most. Stepping into your apartment, you threw your bag on the couch placed in the living room, kicking off your shoes and going straight to your kitchen to grab something fresh to eat. Considering how tired you felt, you thought that something easy to cook was the best option, so you picked some noodles and sat on your dining table to eat happily, humming in satisfaction as soon as the warm feeling caressed your throat.

However, your phone started buzzing loudly in your pocket. You grabbed a napkin to clean your fingers and mouth before you were able to see Seungcheol’s name on the screen.

He wasn’t someone who would call randomly, so you frowned in concern and picked up the call.

“Cheol? What’s wrong?”

“Hi sweetheart, sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

His tone was filled with some kind of distress.

“Yes, what is it? Are you okay?”

“I am, I mean... It’s just... I can’t find my passport. Hell, remember we’re planning to go on that trip at the end of the semester? Well, we were just going to buy the tickets and I can’t find it.” He whined.

“How come? Did you look in your bag? In the drawers?”

“I did. It’s nowhere to be found. You know I wouldn’t call you if I wasn’t sure.”

That was true. Seungcheol was a responsible person, that kind of thing never happened to him, which took you by surprise.

And of course, there was no way you’d go on that trip without him.

“Okay, okay. Calm down.” You said, standing up from your seat and placing the plate on the sink. “There’s still plenty of time left, we can-”

“No y/n, everyone has their ticket but me.”

“What?!” You exclaimed, placing your palm against your forehead. “How is that possible? You’re supposed to make sure everything you need is ready before you do!”

“Listen, I had it, I swear, but as soon as I looked for it, it just wasn’t there. I let the boys buy theirs first, I even bought yours.”

“Why would you do that? And how?”

“I have that copy you sent me of your passport. Since I couldn’t find mine and everyone was waiting, I decided to just buy yours.”

Marvelous, you thought. Now you had to go on a trip with the possibility of Seungcheol not going. How were you supposed to deal with Jeonghan if he wasn’t around? Yeah, the rest of the boys were your friends, but it wasn’t the same. Seungcheol was the only one who knew you well enough to keep you down on your feet.

“Okay, so what are we supposed to do now?! Can’t the boys help you out? Did you ask them to look for it?”

“Yes, but most of them either have plans for tonight or are busy. Plus I don’t trust them enough, they’ll make a mess of my room.”

“Geez...”

“Can you help me look for it? I’ll pick you up, I’m near your place.”

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. Seemed like your plans of chilling peacefully would need to wait.

“Yes, I’ll be out in a second.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, just hurry!”

“I still can’t believe you lost your damn passport, Choi Seungcheol, this is so unlike you.” You nagged all over again, rummaging through his things and looking for the only thing that could save you from a nightmare.

Seungcheol looked at you, phone in hands and pouting whenever you glanced at him from over your shoulder.

“I know... Please stop reminding me of it. We just need to find it and everything will be fine. Must be here, somewhere.”

Your back was facing him as you looked through the bookshelf, focused on the task.

“Everything is organized in here, I can’t understand how’s that you can’t find it.”

Seungcheol nervously tapped on his phone, taking advantage of you not looking at him. He took a deep breath and sighed.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Joshua just texted me that he needs me to bring him something before he leaves again, he’s outside.”

You turned your head to look at him and he was just waiting for your answer. You nodded your head with a soft smile.

“Alright.”

Seungcheol smiled warmly, stepping forward to gently pat on your head.

“Wait here, I’ll be back.”

With that, he exited the room.

You kept looking in every corner of the room that belonged to Seungcheol. His desk, his drawers, his books, and even in the pockets of the hoodies and jackets that laid in his closet.

You were getting more and more frustrated. It was like the object had just vanished from the planet. How can a 25-year-old man lose his passport in such a way? You didn’t know, but what would he do without you.

You finally heard the front door closing, followed by steps that resonated getting nearer and nearer against the wooden floor.

The door cracked open and you groaned, still with your head buried in the bookshelf as you kept looking inside the books for the hundredth time.

“I still can’t find it. I can’t believe you disappeared the fucking document.” You exclaimed in total distress, feeling the urge to bring your hands to your hair and pull it by the roots.

Your heart froze at the sound of his voice calling out your name. Eyes widening, you turned your head to find him standing there, apparently just as surprised as you were.

“Jeonghan? What are you doing here?” You asked coldly, he just quirked a brow at you in response.

“I live here, duh. What are you doing here?”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to resume what you were doing, not wanting to look at his painfully handsome face any longer.

“I didn’t come here to see you.” You spat. “Where’s Cheol?” You asked again, glancing at him from over your shoulder momentarily.

Jeonghan sighed in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey, you don’t need to be so salty. I was just asking, it’s not usual seeing you in here. And about Cheol, I don’t know, I didn’t see him.”

You frowned, turning around again, this time it was you who folded arms over your chest.

“Salty? Excuse me, how did you expect me to greet you after the things you said to me the other day? And what the hell do you mean you didn’t see him? This is magnificent, not only my plans of staying at home for a relaxing night have been ruined because Choi Seungcheol lost his passport and I had to come here to help him find it, but then he just asks me to wait until he takes something to Joshua and then you appear to be the cherry on top. Weren’t you supposed to be doing something else out of the dorms today?” You rambled, running your fingers through your hair. Jeonghan looked annoyed, straightening his figure with furrowed brows.

“Hey, I wasn’t going to come, it’s not my fault that Joshua dropped me here while he went somewhere else and asked me to look for his p-” Jeonghan spoke firmly, sudden realization hitting him like a truck as soon as he put two and two together. His expression changed immediately. “Of course he isn’t coming back.” He mumbled, letting out a humorless chuckle as he ran his hand over his face.

You looked at him confused and still annoyed.

“What do you mean?” You asked. Jeonghan sighed loudly, turning around and walking away from the bedroom. You followed behind him, hands balled into fists. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

Jeonghan didn’t pay attention to you and went straight to the front door, placing his hand on the doorknob just to be unable to open it. It was locked.

He groaned, resting his forehead against the wooden surface. That’s when you noticed something wasn’t right.

Jeonghan, apparently calm, lifted his head and turned around to rest his back against the door, looking at you.

“So, Cheol lost his passport, you said?”

“Yeah?” You tilted your head.

“Guess who else lost his passport and asked for help to find it?”

Oh no, hell no.

You felt like something exploded within you, and not in a good way. Your eyes widened and you felt like shaking in pure anger.

You were going to kill both of them.

“No way. You have to be kidding me.” You groaned. “This is madness. I am going to kill him. I’m leaving.”

Jeonghan’s lips curled up in amusement.

“We’re locked up in here.”

You smiled at him sarcastically.

“I don’t believe a single thing you say.”

Jeonghan moved aside and gestured to the door.

“Then leave, who’s stopping you?”

Rolling your eyes again, you stepped forward and tried to open the door.

To no avail, of course.

“I can’t fucking believe we’re locked up.”

“Told you.”

You glared a Jeonghan, sliding your hand into your pocket and pulling your phone out to call Seungcheol, who after two rings picked up.

“Hello?”

“What in the fucking world, Seungcheol?!”

“I’m sorry, please don’t hate me.”

“You locked me up with my annoying ex-boyfriend after lying to me, why would I hate you?”

“Hey!” Jeonghan protested but ended up chuckling as soon as you glared at him again.

“I understand that you’re mad, but I’m doing this for your own sake... And ours.”

“Really? Wow. Since when do you hate me?”

“Don’t be dramatic, y/n, we’re just tired of the two of you bickering all the time as if you didn’t cry for the other the rest of the times.” Joshua’s voice sounded now, taking you by surprise and adding fuel to the fire.

“The only one who’s going to cry is you when I’m out of here.”

You heard their chuckles on the other side of the call, Jeonghan watched the whole show stifling a burst of laughter right beside you.

“Well, you better calm down because you’ll be there for the rest of the day.”

Jeonghan’s brows furrowed right before he snatched your phone away from your hands.

“What did you say?!”

“You’ll thank me later, Hannie. You both just do... Your stuff. I hope you have a romantic night.”

“I swear I’m going to break your neck as soon as one of the boys comes back and lets me out.”

“Not today. All of the boys know the plan, so it’s just you and her.”

You snatched your phone back from Jeonghan’s hand.

“Is that so? Where are you going to sleep, then?”

“At your place, of course.”

You laughed loudly and sarcastically.

“Good luck trying to get in.”

“We have that copy of your keys you gave to Cheol.”

Jeonghan and you glanced at each other. He closed his eyes and sighed, turning around and waving his hand dismissively.

“You’re both horrible people. I regret giving you that damned copy.” You said through gritted teeth.

“I’m so sorry...” You heard Cheol say in regret. “I promise if this doesn’t work, I’ll carry with the consequences. I love you.”

“Listen. you’re absolutel-”

“Well goodnight, lovebirds!” Joshua exclaimed interrupting you, hanging up the phone, and leaving you dumbfounded.

You made your way to the kitchen where Jeonghan was leaning against the counter. You were trying your best to suppress the impulse of throwing your phone against the floor. Your blood kept boiling, you were beyond angry.

“What are we gonna do now?” He asked, and you looked up to meet his gaze.

“I don’t know. Gosh, he didn’t even let me take a shower.” You whined, sitting on a chair and resting your forehead over your folded arms on the table.

“Well, you can take a shower here and stuff.”

You looked up with a frown.

“What am I supposed to wear?”

He shrugged.

“I can let you borrow one of my t-shirts.” He suggested, you arched a brow. “Or just take one from Cheol, whatever.”

You kept silent for a second, then stood up from the chair.

“I’ll take one of Cheol’s.” You said, making your way back to his bedroom.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes and followed you, torso colliding with your back when you abruptly stopped in your tracks.

“God, don’t do that.”

“We have another problem.”

Jeonghan tilted his head.

“What is it?”

“Underwear.”

“Can’t you just use the one you’re wearing?”

You grimaced at his words.

“That’s gross, Jeonghan. Of course not.”

“Then just wear the t-shirt.”

“Are you suggesting me to be naked? In here? Alone with you? Such a pervert.”

Jeonghan sighed again.

“Last offer is one of my boxer briefs.”

You scrunched your face.

“Are you insane?”

“It’s not like you haven’t worn something of mine before or that you don’t know my body well enough... It’s that or one from Cheol.”

You thought about it for a second, not wanting to admit that he was right. However, there was no way you could wear one of your best friend’s boxer briefs anyways.

“Gosh, I’m seriously killing them.”

“Listen, I’ll let you borrow a new pair... I’ll put your underwear in the washing machine so please stop whining.” He said, walking past you and towards the closet, grabbing a clean towel for you while you looked for one of Seuncheol’s t-shirts.

You couldn’t help but keep muttering stuff under your breath. You couldn’t believe that was happening to you.

“Are you done complaining to yourself?” Jeonghan asked from the door, making you jump.

“Where did you come from? God at least knock on the door.” You said, placing your hand over your chest to soothe your racing heart.

“I was next to the door. And why would I knock? This is my room too, remember?” He shook his head. “Anyways, here’s a clean towel and the underwear. Call me if you need something.”

With that, you pouted as soon as he left the room. Sighing, you walked and locked yourself in the bathroom to take a very much-needed warm shower.

You walked out of the bathroom, your hair dripping and a towel around your shoulders to help you dry the ends. Feeling much better now, you peeked to Jeonghan’s room, finding him focused on building some of his legos.

A small smile filled with nostalgia formed on your lips at the memories that popped in your head. You always loved seeing Jeonghan so entertained with legos like a little kid, and the way he would show you his masterpieces with so much pride as soon as he finished.

Your heart sank at the sight, so you just turned around and walked to the kitchen in a desperate try to distract yourself with some food.

Since you weren’t familiar with the place, it took you a while to find the plates and utensils you would need, and unfortunately for you, the plates were placed on a cabinet that was a bit too far for you to reach.

However, your pride was bigger than the option of pulling a chair and climb on it or call Jeonghan to help you out, so standing on your tiptoes you struggled until your fingers started dragging one of the cups. A triumphant smile on your face that was short-lived, because as soon as you thought you had it, it slipped from your hand and fell on the floor loudly, the pottery breaking into pieces that were spread all over the floor.

“Fuck.” You cursed, but before you could process what was happening, Jeonghan rushed to the kitchen with panic on his face.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He asked out of breath, eyes darting from your frame to the mess on the floor. You smiled at him apologetically, and he just sighed in both relief and disbelief, shaking his head.

“Sorry.”

Jeonghan walked towards you, avoiding the sharp pieces of pottery so he wouldn’t cut himself. As soon as he stood in front of you, he folded his arms over his chest.

“You could’ve just asked me to reach a plate for you, you know?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t want to bother.” You simply said. “I’ll clean up the mess I made.” You added, squatting down and starting to carefully lift the pieces with your hands.

Jeonghan squatted down too, helping you.

“Don’t. I’ll do it.” He said, snatching the ones that were in your hands away, making you glare at him.

“I made it, I will clean it.” You insisted, grabbing other pieces until the sharp ending dug into your finger and made you drop it on the floor with a small whine.

You stood up, eyes fixed on the drop of blood that was flowing from your skin, biting your lip and cursing under your breath.

Jeonghan stood up.

“See? Why don’t you ever listen to me? You’re so stubborn.” He shook his head again, grabbing your wrist and bringing it closer to his face so he could examine the small wound.

“Shut up. I just didn't want to be a burden.” You said, wincing when he applied pressure on your finger to make a bit more blood spill. He felt relieved, it was just a small cut.

“It’s nothing, just a small cut.” He assured seconds before he brought your finger to his lips and gently sucked on it.

Your eyes flew open at the sight and the feeling of his warm mouth and tongue around your finger. Your heart raced and a fire ignited through your veins.

You froze, staring at him for a moment, until you snapped out of your thoughts and pulled your hand away from his mouth, pushing him slightly.

“Ew, what are you doing? Weirdo!” You exclaimed, getting a loud chuckle in response.

“The blood stopped, though.” He shrugged. “Wash your hands, I’ll finish cleaning and then I’ll give you a band-aid.”

You sighed, walking towards the bathroom to do as he said. Your cheeks still burned, your insides filled with need as you tried to soothe your racing heart.

When he walked through the door, he rummaged through the drawers to pull a box of band-aids out. Ripping the paper with his teeth, he wrapped it perfectly around your small finger.

“Thanks.”

He pulled the paper out of his mouth and tossed it in the trash bin.

“No problem. Is it okay, or is it too tight?”

“It’s fine.”

Jeonghan nodded.

For some reason, none of you moved an inch. Silence filled the small room and his eyes remained on you although you kept trying to look away. Fidgeting with your hands, many questions burned in your throat. So many things you thought you should talk about, but you just couldn’t let it out.

So he spoke first.

“By the way...” He started, running his fingers through his blonde hair when you looked up. “Stop worrying too much. You’re not a burden... You’ll never be. We’re not enemies.”

His words touched the depths of your heart, and the faintest smile threatened to appear in front of him. You bit your lip and looked down at your feet.

You wanted to say something, you needed to... But before you could, he just walked back to his bedroom.

Disappointed, you just sighed and turned the lights off. The whole situation made your hunger disappear, so you just decided to lay on Seungcheol’s bed and watch some movie, so the time could pass quicker and you’d be out of that dorm soon.

But luck was never on your side, and there was no internet.

“Are you serious?” You whined, covering your face behind your hands.

“What?” Jeonghan asked, eyes still fixed on his legos.

“There’s no internet.” You groaned.

“I am well aware of that."

"How come?!" You asked in annoyance.

"Well, we decided to change the service and it won’t be installed till Monday.”

You felt like crying.

“What am I supposed to do now? For fuck’s sake.”

“Sleep.” He suggested, not looking at you.

“I’m not tired.”

“Then sit next to me and watch.”

You sat up and your brows furrowed, glaring at him to no avail, he wasn’t looking back at you.

“Sounds super fun, Jeonghan.”

He finally turned his head.

“Do you have a better idea?”

Sighing in defeat, you waited briefly until you stood up from the bed and sat next to him.

Your eyes were quickly glued to him. Your chest felt tight with the way the lights reflected on his skin, his nose, and his pink lips. He always managed to glow no matter what he did, and that night was not an exception. You just wished things had been different, you wished you could just lift your hand and tuck his hair behind his ear while he worked on his legos, like you usually did. You wished you could just grab his face and peck his lips, interrupting his task and making him smile in return.

But nothing seemed to be the same anymore. Considering the way he treated you, it was more than obvious to you that he had moved on... But your feelings remained strong and the sudden longing started to cloud your mind.

He worried about you, he got scared when he thought something had happened. Maybe you should just try to talk with him.

What was the worst thing that could happen?

“Jeonghan...”

“Hm?”

“Can we talk?”

Your eyes were now fixed on your lap, too nervous to look up at him, too scared to be rejected.

“About what?”

“Why do you... Seem to hate me?”

Jeoghan quickly glanced at you, letting out a breathy chuckle before he looked back to his game.

“I don’t.”

“I think you do, or at least, you don’t like me at all.”

“You say that because of what I said the other day?”

“Not only that day... You’re just acting like an asshole all the time.”

“I’m just playing, you’re just too sensitive.” He mumbled, still not looking back at you.

First hit.

“Really, Jeonghan?” You asked in disbelief. “Well, then I think I don’t know you at all, cause you were never like this with me.”

Jeonghan kept acting nonchalant.

“Because we were dating, how else was I supposed to treat you?” He asked, looking at you with a stone cold expression.

Second hit.

“So because we broke up, that gives you the right to make fun of me in front of others and make me feel like a piece of garbage?”

Jeonghan groaned.

“No, but I didn’t know how annoying you could be out of that relationship we shared. I already said I was playing but you keep being butthurt over it.”

“So now I’m annoying?” You asked, tears burning in the corners of your eyes, blood boiling in rage.

“Yes, can’t you see how much of a hard-headed person you are?” He asked, placing his hands on his lap. “I didn’t ask to be locked up in here with you, but since that’s what happened I’ve tried to help you but guess what? You just keep giving me headaches.”

Third hit.

“Ahh, I give you headaches...” You muttered, eyes watery that didn’t go unnoticed by him. Jeonghan’s expression changed, surprised by your reaction. “You’re such a fucking idiot Jeonghan. All of this time I’ve been crying myself to sleep every damn night wishing somehow you would turn around and ask me to try again with you, wishing we could go back to what we used to be, wishing you weren’t so fucking dense and noticed your shitty attitude hurts me because I can’t stop missing you, but right now... I don't even fucking know. I think you’re just a stranger to me. Well, I think we’re even anyway... I give you headaches, and you give me heartaches.”

You stood up before he could see the tears that now streamed down your cheeks, walking out of the room and leaving Jeonghan in a total state of distress, calling your name and trying to stop you.

But you wouldn’t stop, you wanted to be alone until you stopped crying.

Jeonghan cursed, rubbing his face with his palm when he noticed the way he had fucked up. Standing up, he went looking for you, but you had locked yourself in one of the other boy’s room.

"I’m sorry.” He said. “I... I don’t know why I said that. Please let’s talk.”

No response.

He leaned against the wooden door that separated the two of you, knocking gently.

“Come on... I'm sorry, okay? Let me explain, I’ll listen to you as well, say whatever you need to say... Please.”

You could hear him, but you were not ready to face him yet.

“Please leave me alone.” Was all you said.

Jeonghan sighed.

“Fine... but you'll have to get out of there at some point. I’ll be waiting for you in my room, whenever you’re ready.”

And that’s exactly when he left.

You didn’t know how you truly felt about him anymore. Part of you wanted to just move on and forget about him, and the other wanted to talk things over, make amends, and maybe... Just maybe, find your way back together.

It took you a while to calm down and think about everything with a cold head, but when you finally did, you made your way hesitant to his room where you found him in front of his legos, but this time he seemed to be unfocused, zooming out.

You bit your lip, not really knowing what to expect. Taking a deep breath quietly, you finally cleared your throat to get his attention.

He was pulled out of his thoughts, turning his head to look at you. His expression saddened when he noticed your puffy eyes and red nose. He felt terrible, like a piece of shit, because he knew that’s exactly what he was.

“I-”

“Please come, we need to talk.” He said, tapping the spot on the floor right next to him. A soft smile formed on his lips, trying his best to show you that he really meant it when he apologized before.

You nodded, dragging your feet until you got close. Taking a seat on the carpeted floor, the sudden feeling of his eyes all over you sent chills down your spine, impulsing you to bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them. Jeonghan turned his body to face you completely, and when he noticed how serious the situation was, it was hard for him to keep eye contact. You noticed he was struggling by the way he nervously brushed his hair back with his hands and the way his tongue kept darting out and running over his lips.

It seemed like that facade he was holding earlier had suddenly crumbled.

The silence was deafening. You knew it was time for one of you to start speaking, and you felt like he wasn’t going to be the one who made the first move.

So you did.

“Jeonghan... What you d-”

His eyes met with yours. A gaze you wouldn’t be able to explain even today, holding a strong mixture of feelings you were struggling to pinpoint. He looked hurt, confused, maybe even disoriented.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, interrupting you.

Your brows furrowed together, confused by his question.

“What?”

He seemed to have found the bravery he needed, because his piercing gaze wasn’t moving an inch away from your face.

“That I give you heartaches.” He simply said, his voice lower and soft, like he was hesitating to ask you. “Am I really hurting you so much?”

Your heart trembled. The bitterness of the thought threatened to push you into a breaking point all over again, but you wouldn’t let it happen that easily.

“Yes.”

Jeonghan nodded. He looked hurt. His head lowered, looking again at his lap.

“I didn’t know you felt that way. I really didn’t mean to make you sad.”

You let out a humorless chuckle.

“Jeonghan, how could I not feel sad and hurt?” You asked, which made him look up again so you could keep talking. “I spent two and a half years with this version of you I learned to adore and live for. This one where you were always sweet, attentive, respectful and caring towards me... I know maybe it didn’t work the way we would’ve wanted it to, and I get that you probably moved on already, but maybe you could’ve stopped to think if I had moved on as well, don’t you think? However, even if I had gotten over you, that doesn’t mean you need to act like someone completely different from the person I know you are.” You paused for a second as tears filled your eyes. You gulped the knot that formed on your throat before continuing “I don’t expect you to treat me the same way you used to treat me when we were together... But, why are you so cruel? You’re the person I’ve loved the most, you should know it hurts... And the worst part of it is that you’re still that person, Jeonghan.”

His round eyes widened a bit, taken aback by your words.

”What?”

You sighed, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“You’re still the person I love the most. I still want to be with you. It hurts, but it hurts so good that I don’t really want to stop feeling it.”

You lowered your gaze and sniffled, covering your mouth with the back of your hand, trying your best not let any sound out. Jeonghan’s hand moved to your cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. The feeling of your burning skin sent sparks through his veins, and the moment you looked up at him and your eyes met, he felt his own knot stealing the air away from him.

Jeonghan’s heart broke at the sight of you, knowing he had made you suffer more than you probably had since the two of you had broken up. His stomach churned when a stray tear ran down your cheek.

With a soft call of your name, he retreated his hand from your face. “I’m so fucking sorry. I truly am.”

He straightened his posture, bringing one of his hands to the back of his neck. He sighed loudly, it was clear that he was struggling to find the right words to say.

“Why? What did I do wrong? I just want to know that, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan knew what he wanted to say, but he was afraid and wasn’t really sure of how to start. However, he needed to let all of that out, lift that weight off his shoulders.

“I...” He groaned, leaning forward and burying his face between his hands. He was frustrated, troubled. You always knew how hard it was for Jeonghan to put his pride aside most of the times, especially when it came to his feelings. You had to be patient, so you just waited for him to speak.

After a couple of seconds, he lifted his head and with determination, deciding to just let all of his feelings flow.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s been really hard for me to pretend that I’m okay whenever you’re around.” He confessed. “I couldn’t stand seeing you around and not being able to say or do the things we used to do when we were together. It’s been hell for me, I just couldn’t treat you well because I don’t feel well.”

Your chest tightened.

“Jeonghan...”

“What I’m trying to say is, and I’m not trying to excuse my behavior, but I needed to act this way because I was trying desperately to convince myself that I didn’t love you anymore. If I couldn’t pull you closer, then I would push you away.”

You didn’t know what to say. Truthfully, you were absolutely shocked by his confession. Out of all of the things he could’ve said to you, those were the words you least expected to hear.

Your hands were shaking, and the urge to cry increased when you felt the pain in his voice, when you witnessed the longing in his eyes.

“...I really thought you had moved on.” You muttered, your voice weak.

Jeonghan smiled at you sadly.

“That’s what I wanted you and everyone to think.” He admitted. “But I will never get over you. Seems like I realized you’re too damn hard to forget in the worst way possible, huh? I still regret the day I let you leave. Since that day and after all this time I do want you back and always will.”

Your heart hammered against your chest so loudly you were afraid he would be able to hear it. The hairs on your body sizzled, and you could’ve sworn your airways had been obstructed by your own emotions.

Jeonghan noticed the way you froze, and deep down he was waiting for you to tell him that it was too late, that he should’ve spoken earlier or that you didn’t believe a single thing he said. But still, his own shaky hand moved towards yours, placing it on top and giving it a light squeeze.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole. I’ve been carrying these feelings for too long.” He spoke softly. “The truth is that I always remember everything, good and bad. I know I agreed to separate, but trust me, you never did anything wrong. I might have been overwhelmed by my own feelings and that made me want to run away.”

You squeezed his hand tightly in response. You hadn’t realized you were a crying mess until he, once again, wiped away your tears.

“I-” You began. “I don’t know w-what to s-say... We were both wrong, Jeonghan. I don’t know why or how we ended up like this... What happened to us?”

Jeonghan smiled gently at you, shaking his head.

“I don't know, babe.” He admitted. “I think we just forgot how much we loved each other, we were too dumb and didn't try to solve things to make it work." He sighed. "I just wanted to lift this suffocating weight off my shoulders.” He licked his lips before he continued, not noticing the way your eyes remained fixed on them. “You’re right about everything and I would want to punch myself too if I was you, you surely didn’t deserve it. I don’t deserve a second chance, but hell what else do I have to lose now? If you want me to spit it out, then here it is. I miss you. Even when I tried to pretend like I wasn’t, I am still in love with you, doll.”

Your eyes moved back to look into his, and your brain suddenly stopped working. Now that you knew that he still had feelings for you, you weren’t able to say a single word in return. You needed to show him how long you had waited to hear him say that, but since nothing came out of your mouth ...

Actions spoke louder than words.

While he looked at you with his head tilted and waiting for you to say something, your body acted on autopilot. You let go of his hand and shifted your body’s position, resting on your knees before you pulled him by the collar of his t-shirt and pressed your lips against his.

You felt his body tense. You had caught him off guard. Your lips moved on his briefly before you noticed he wasn’t kissing you back, so you pulled away, thinking you had made a mistake.

You clutched your hand over your mouth, eyes widening in panic. On the other hand, he just stared at you with dark, hooded eyes..

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

Ignoring your apologies, Jeonghan placed his hand behind your neck and pulled you in for another kiss. This time there was no hesitation, your lips molded together smoothly, heads tilting to change positions and make it deeper. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his wrapped around your waist.

There it was. The strong feeling that always brought you back together. That undeniable chemistry that could only exist in between the two of you.

The feeling of his body pressed flush against yours was still mind-blowing. The more he kissed you, the more you craved.

Jeonghan gently pushed you to lay you down on your back against the carpeted floor. Not breaking the kiss, he hovered over you, a hand running down your body to wrap your thigh around his hips.

It only took his tongue meeting yours for you to start squirming under him. The hot feeling of his kisses never failed to make a pool in your panties, and you knew he felt the same way when you felt his hardening cock against your lower stomach.

Running out of oxygen, Jeonghan slightly pulled back from the kiss, but his mouth was still ghosting over your lips and his nose kept brushing against yours. Light pants escaped from his mouth as his eyes tried to find yours.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, supporting his upper body with one of his elbows as his free hand ran slowly through your hair in soft caresses that ended on your cheek.

You shook your head, as the pads of your fingers grazed on his jawline.

“No.” You affirmed. “Don’t stop. I need you. I miss you.”

His lips slightly curled upwards. His eyes sparkled under the dim lights and the smell of his cologne made your head spin. You were hypnotized by his sole presence, the immeasurable beauty of every single inch of his skin. He was dreamy, he was perfect.

Jeonghan leaned in and kissed you again on the lips for a moment, then started trailing open mouthed kisses from your mouth to down your neck. You bit your lip, tilting your head to the side to give him more room to mark every inch of your flesh.

Fingers burying in the long hairs at the back of his neck, you couldn’t help but buck your hips against him the moment he slid his cold hand down the t-shirt you were wearing.

The faintest moan slipped from his mouth at the friction you offered him, as his naughty fingers found their way to the waistband of the boxer briefs you had on.

He went back to kiss your lips slowly, fingers running down your slit and delicious pressure sending electricity against your bundle of nerves.

It was you who let out a moan this time, swallowed by Jeonghan’s kiss. He bit on your lower lip and gently tugged on it, smirking as soon as he let go of the flesh.

“Always soaking wet for me, hm? After all this time apart you keep dripping whenever I have my hands on you.”

God. He had such a dirty mouth and you had missed it terribly.

Gripping on his biceps, your nails dug on his skin as your back arched. He wasted no time before he slid two of his already soaked digits into you, curling them up and starting to pump them at an agonizing slow pace.

“God, Jeonghan.” You moaned, head thrown back and eyes pressed shut.

Jeonghan did nothing but watch your every reaction. There was nothing more arousing to him than seeing you in pleasure, more if he was the one giving it to you.

He bit his lip, still smirking as he was knuckle deep fucking you.

“You’re so tight right now. You must’ve really missed my cock... I don’t think you will be able to take it without me stretching you out first.”

He proceeded to scissor his long fingers inside of you, an action that set your body aflame. You clumsily reached for the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up, nails gently scratching on his back to make him take the hint.

So he did. He pulled back momentarily and took the shirt off. You opened your eyes and looked at his figure, pupils blowing, stomach flipping.

He tsked, bringing his fingers soaked with your juices to his lips to suck them clean, tongue running over his lower lip afterwards. You couldn’t stop watching, and your reddened cheeks just made him chuckle.

“Nothing tastes better than your little pussy when it reacts to me.” He smirked. “Now, since I took it off, you might as well do the same, hm?”

He placed both of his palms at the sides of your thighs, running them painfully slow upwards and lifting the shirt along with them until he pulled it off from you.

His eyes scanned your bare body, only in his boxer briefs. You looked like the most expensive meal for him, and his mouth was watering at the view.

You stretched your hand and ran it over his bare torso, caressing his soft skin and drawing the lines of his abs.

Jeonghan grabbed your hand and laced his fingers with yours, leaning in and kissing on your neck again. He sucked lightly on the skin, teeth grazing and tongue lapping afterwards as he made his way down to your collarbone and breasts. Resting on his knees, he moved his other hand and started kneading your chest, smiling mischievously as your face contorted in pleasure.

“Fuck.” You cursed, biting your lips and pressing your eyes shut again.

He just wrapped his lips around your nipple, tongue twirling and flicking on the sensitive bud and making your mind a blurry mess. He sucked and licked on your breast, moving right after to the other one to repeat the process, gaining whimpers from you in response.

“Hmmm. I love the sounds you make, all desperate with just my mouth running down your skin.” He said breathlessly in between kisses. Your free hand found its way through the locks of his hair, gently pulling on the roots, a thing that just turned him on even more.

He was hard rock by just hearing all of the little noises that erupted from your lips. He couldn’t help but grind himself against your thigh, trying to suppress the moans that urged to fall from his lips.

“Jeonghan, god, I need you so much. I can’t be without you.” You breathed, legs tightening around him as he kept grinding down on you. He sucked a breath, slender fingers digging on your ribcage.

“It’s been so hard, baby... So hard to not being able to touch you, so hard to be craving your body, your taste every night.” He muttered against your skin, open mouthed kisses being trailed down your abdomen. “I’m glad we talked this over, cause I wouldn’t have been able to share this space with you in just that shirt, with your legs on full display begging to be around me while I pound into you.” He glanced up at you, eyes hooded and dark-filled with lust. His dick throbbing at the sight of your desperation, at the way the hairs on your body stood up in goosebumps from the touch of his mouth.

He made you clench around nothing with just his words. Dripping wet in between your legs and dying for him to bury his length inside of you, to fill you up to the brim. Jeonghan could perfectly see the wet patch in the center of your underwear, and he loved it.

“I knew you wanted me to be without panties.” A chuckle escaped from your lips, followed by a moan. “You’re always so naughty.”

Jeonghan just chuckled darkly in return, hands roaming on your body as his face ghosted over your crotch in a teasing way. His hot breath fanning against your soaking, clothed core, making you see in white.

“You know me so well.” He said, running his lips over your hips above the waistband of your underwear. “I would’ve jerked off really hard at the thought of you, moaning loudly in the bathroom so you could hear how badly you keep affecting me.” He added, teeth sinking on the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

All of the things he said and did were making you go feral, desperate to feel him you finally decided to do something, so you pushed him away from you and sat up, pulling him by the nape of his neck into a kiss that took both of your breaths away. One arm around his neck and your free hand making its shameless way  to his dick from over his sweatpants, palming him.

The sudden pleasure seemed to be unbearable for Jeonghan, who couldn’t help but break the kiss and start moaning, thrusting his hips against your hand as his length started twitching under your touch.

You smirked, loving the way he was reacting to your touch and the way his breath became uneven.

You moved your face to whisper in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe.

“I want you inside of me, right now.” You whispered, pushing the remaining buttons to finally make him snap. “Please, fill me up.”

His jaw clenched, taking a deep breath through his nose.

“Fuck. You better be ready cause I’m about to remind you who you belong to.” He spat, pushing you to lay down again and pulling his pants down along with his underwear. His dick was set free, standing straight and hard in front of you. The tip was leaking pre-cum, and all you wanted to do was run your tongue all over it.

But he wouldn’t let you.

Jeonghan then placed both of his hands over the underwear you had on and ripped it off. Your eyes widened.

“Why’d you rip them off?” You chuckled, he shrugged.

“I have more.” He smiled. “I’ve been wanting to see you looking this beautiful underneath me again for so long. Would’ve been better if you had just worn the t-shirt with nothing underneath, don’t you think?”

He spread your legs open for him, leaning in and running his tongue on your slit, lapping a couple of times that were enough to get you to whimper again before he pulled back, tongue swiping over his lower lip. He grabbed his dick and pressed the tip between your folds, rubbing it up and down.

"Mine." He said before he hissed. The way your wetness coated his cock could’ve made him cum right then and there, but he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to be in you.

He positioned himself at your entrance, easing himself in you slowly. You bit your lip, wrapping your arms around his body and clawing your nails on his back. He waited for a few seconds to let you adjust to his size, taking the opportunity to look into your eyes again. He grazed his fingers over your cheek, jaw and lips, leaning forward and kissing your forehead.

There was the man you were in love with.

“Are you ready, doll?” He whispered, you nodded.

“Yes, Hannie, please, take me.”

He grunted and started slowly, deep, smooth thrusts against you, his pelvis rolling deliciously as he held your thighs around his hips.

The pleasure increased with each movement, you whimpered and he quickened his pace until the only sounds filling the room were the skin slapping ones and heavy breaths mixed with moans.

“You’re so tight. Fuck, baby, your pussy was made for me, and me only.” He grunted through gritted teeth. You rolled your hips to meet his thrusts, clenching around him whenever he hit the right spot. A trail of curses fell from his mouth whenever your warm walls hugged his cock, and it only got worse as soon as he started rubbing circles on your clit to help you reach your climax faster.

“Fuck, Jeonghan, that feels so good.” You cried out, moans getting higher the more you approached your orgasm. You held onto him tightly, both of your bodies drenched in sweat. “I’m so close.”

“I know you are, baby.” He groaned. “I can feel the way you’re sucking me in, hugging my dick so tightly it’s going to be milked soon.” He continued, throwing his head back and biting his lip. You watched the obscene, yet mesmerizing scene in front of you, beads of sweat running down his neck and chest, abs flexing at the rythm of his thrusts. “No one will ever fuck you as good as I do. No one will ever own my dick like you do, either.” He cursed. “This is why I’ll make sure you’re with me and only me, always.”

“Fuck, Hannie.” You cried out again. “I’m just yours, my body is yours and no one will ever own me like you do, my prince.” You moaned as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap, legs starting to shake in pleasure.

“That’s right, princess. No one will ever see how much of a good slut you are, because it’s all for me.” He breathed, leaning forward and kissing you again on the lips sloppily, tongues tangling. “Cum for me baby, I want you to come all over my cock. Show me how much you’ve missed me.” He said against your mouth, thrusting even faster as he kept rubbing your clit.

You wanted to scream, but no sound came out. The feeling in your stomach was eminent, a couple of shaky breaths and you came, clenching around him so tight that he moaned just as loud.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” You exclaimed, a thing that although didn’t seem like it, had really gone under Jeonghan’s skin.

He helped you ride out of your climax, trying to find his own at the same time. You looked at him, his face contorted in pure bliss under the dim lights of the room. He looked like a piece of art that belonged to a museum. Chest going up and down, breath hitching, moans coming out of his mouth and skin glistening in sweat.

His thrusts turned sloppy, the way your pussy squeezed his dick made it twitch repeatedly, pushing him to the edge, and soon, spurts of white cum had painted your walls. He slammed into you until he rode out of his own orgasm, milking himself completely inside of you and finally collapsing momentarily with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

Catching both of your breaths, the room went completely silent. He was panting, sweat running down his temples and the ends of his hair. You moved your hand and brushed his hair away from his forehead. Jeonghan regained some of his strength and pulled himself up with his elbows to look into your eyes.

His face was serious, his gaze piercing your soul with a burning flame behind his dark orbs. He then, still inside you, leaned in and kissed you. Slowly, passionately, deeply.

He poured all of his heart into that kiss. He cupped your face with his palm and just moved his lips against yours, melting into your mouth and taking your breath away all over again.

When he pulled back, he was still trying to catch his own breath.

“I love you too.” He whispered. “I really do. I’m sorry again for not being honest, for treating you badly. I will never forgive myself for the tears you shed because of me.”

You felt butterflies. You couldn’t help but smile.

“And I’m sorry for not trying to talk about all of this before. I’m sorry for breaking your heart too.”

“I missed you so much.”

“And I did too. I couldn’t stop wishing I was like this again, right between your arms. The bed felt cold without you in it.”

“I will sleep with you whenever you want me to.” He smiled.

“Does this mean we’re back together?”

He chuckled breathlessly.

“Only if you’re willing to deal with my annoying ass again.”

You laughed, kissing him on the lips again.

“I wouldn’t trade you for anything.” You assured. “But... What if it doesn’t work? What if we start fighting again?”

Jeonghan ran his fingers through your hair.

“We will keep trying.” He said. “Now that I know how it is to live without you, I will make sure to be the best version of myself for you.”

You smiled.

“What about the teasing?”

“Hmmm... You know me well enough, I can’t promise that I won’t tease you.” You pouted, making him laugh. “But I will always remind you that it’s just a joke and that you’re the most beautiful, smart woman in the world.”

You chuckled.

“I’ll take that.”

Jeonghan pecked you on your lips again and finally stood up, helping you up as well. Your legs were wobbly and his cum was running down your thighs.

“Ugh, I’m so sticky, I need to clean myself up.” You stated, grimacing.

“What do you mean ‘ew’? You were literally begging for my cum seconds ago.”

“Oh shut up.” You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning.

“I can’t believe we made it on the floor.” Jeonghan said.

“They won’t let us live this down when they know their plan worked.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they pay for this.”

You shook your head, giggling. As you picked the t-shirt from the floor, you noticed a wet patch on the carpet.

“Uh... Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“I think we stained the carpet.” You said, looking at him with widened eyes.

Jeonghan shrugged. “Well, that’s what they get for locking us up in here.”

“Cheol is going to kill us.”

Jeonghan cupped your cheeks.

“And you can remind him that every action has its consequences.” He said, pecking your lips. “Let’s get cleaned up... And maybe have a second round?”