#have a bit of a short drabble born from my daydream

[streets-in-paradise]

I truly would enjoy seeing the story go that route! It fits in with both their characters! It’s be so interesting and wonderful to read. I love your writing!

Thank you so much!

Once I will finish writing a few more chapters i'm getting ready for the main fic, i will write one piece to give this AU a chance. Ever since we started talking about this i have been daydreaming a very particular scene i can't get out of my mind and it is so cute so i will share it with you:

The standard wedding ceremony on that period centers a lot in the experience of the bride. The end of the ritual consisted in the bride being accompanied by singing maids holding tortches to light her way to the nuptial bed. Once there, her personal servants were in charge to get her ready for the later arrival of the husband. Most of the preparations consisted on normal beauty rituals like applying special perfumes all over her body to make her the most desirable possible for the expected consummation.

And like, having this in mind, i began to imagine their wedding night as a soft moment of mutual comfort.

The handmaids of the princess did the best they could to cheer her, Tal speaking of how good she looks and Eny rambling of how handsome Hector would be looking like once he would cross the bedroom door. They know that's not how she daydreamed her wedding night to be, but they didn't even want to mention Achilles fearing she would start crying…

And when she is left alone and Hector arrives, she cries. Not because of being afraid of him, what she would never because she knows what kind of man he is. She sobs from the sorrow of seeing her dreams crushed.

Hector can tell that's not the crying of a scared maiden who fears unwanted touch. That's a hopeless girl lamenting loosing the chance to be with who she considers the love of her life. He has never seen her this fragile, she is broken and that is shocking to witness for him.

He approaches her like a friend. Although they both wear garments expected for the context of a wedding night, making it an awkward paradox at first. He splits the covers of the bed by himself, allowing her to get inside and cover herself so she wouldn't have to feel exposed in front of him anymore because the cloth of her attires is traslucent.

She struggles to get back into a composed attitude, but hides it behind her typical ironic humor.

" Do i really look so ugly that you won't even look at me?" She jokes, face still wet from the sobbing. " I worked hard on this clothes. You won't believe me, but i have been planning this moment for a long time."

" … I'm the detail that escaped your planning. " He replies ríght away. " I can tell you conceibed that following the preferences of another man. "

He glances at her for an instant in contemplative silence.

" I don't share his apparent urge for seeing you undressed. A normal nightgown would have been alright. "

His words make her get deeper into the covers.

" The choir singing the himeneus didn't follow me here to watch over my sleep. I have to act convincent for the rest of the world … and i didn't got time to make any other discrete dress for this moment."

She never imagined a different fate, her faith on Achilles was once so strong that all her previous preparatives only contemplated him. Laying there with any other man was unthinkable, she was convinced that he was the one meant to become her husband.

" I am aware I'm not the man of your dreams. " Hector frankly comments. " Maybe i will never be, but you don't need to hide that from me for the sake of performance."

She looks directly at him for the first time since the arrival and finds a sweet smile across his face.

" You don't have to be my wife tonight, you are still my friend. " He reminds her. " Am i your friend? I don't want you to loathe me over this, neither of us have choosen it. "

Calmly but still hesitantly, he takes the spot beside her in the bed just to lay close.

" You got the worse part of the deal. My condolences, Agamemnon is now your in law while I got Priam and Paris. "

In her often indirect ways, that seems to be a confirmation for his ask.

" It could have been worse, i could be marrying a stranger and so could you… Can't you see how extremely lucky we are?"

Settled in her cynical pessimism, she puts her sharp tounge on point.

" Luck for you would have been to marry Andromache. You would be making love to her ríght now instead of drowning in my negativity."

To her surprise, he isn't frozen by that ironic mention.

" I'm already used to your wicked sense of humor, you can't weaponize it anymore. " He clarifies to her. " It's true, we are not here out of love, but we don't have to make it be the end of our lives."

She remains silent for an instant, meditating in the meaning of his words.

" In all my life, i have envisioned only two possible fates. Marrying the love of my life or letting my father win. That meant, accepting whatever horrible choice he had for me and ending tied to a man i would surely despise. "

Thinking she is classifying him as the second option, Hector feels slightly hurted. Despite he is not in love with her, he doesn't want her cold rejectment.

Out of sudden, she accomodates closer to him in chaste seek for physical comfort.

" I never imagined i would be getting married to a friend. "

[goldencherryhazz]

‘Watermelon Sugar High’ 🍉

A/n: I don’t think I will ever recover, like he actually said that!! Any way enjoy this short drabble reposted from my old account all about the time Harry admitted the true meaning of ws, not proofread, sorry if it’s a bit rubbish, enjoy! :)

It was the second show in Nashville tonight, you were currently on the side of the stage as you watched you boyfriend perform. You were practically trying not to drool over him because of how good he looked in his white pants and waistcoat, that left half of his chest bare anyway. You swear he did it to tease you sometimes, leaving his skin on show because he knew it got you hot and bothered and with all the fans fawning over him you may even say you got a little possessive over him, he knew that you were his and he was yours and you had seen him in a light that none of the fans had seen him in, but that still didn’t stop the urge to just go and pounce of him and attack him in kisses and hickeys to make sure everyone knew who he belonged to.

You can’t help but smile at him when he dances to adore you, he seemed to be a bit more energetic tonight but that was probably a mixture of the make out session you had before he went out on stage, a good luck kiss could never just end in a quick peck could it, and the adrenaline currently coursing through his veins.

After a few more songs, dancing and blowing kisses and waving to his fans he comes to a stop in front of a particular sign. A sign that read ‘so Harry what’s watermelon sugar really about then?’ The entire fanbase knew the answer by now but Harry hadn’t actually admitted that was the true meaning of the song, and after the about 2 years of the song actually being out fans were now lining for him to just admit if.

You of course knew what the song was about, it was written about you after all, well mainly your pussy. You were now getting more intrigued about how he was going to answer this one.

"Well its the next song i’m going to play for you, it was written in Nashville on my first tour. So Nashville is very special.’ He tries to change the subject by announcing the song itself, and you can’t help but think about the time in Nashville around 2 and a bit years ago, he had had a really good day in the studio having written 2 songs that he liked and thought would be good enough for the album. He took you out in his convertible down to the coast so you could just sit and watch the ocean together and relax, one of your favourite past times, but that’s not how it ended. A touch to the thigh, led to a kiss, that led to a full on make out session, that quickly led to you being laid out on the back seat trying to contain your moans hoping that no one else would turn up to not only hear but see your two’s shenanigans, whilst Harry was mouthing and flicking his tongue over you clit, and to say that his mouth was talented was an understatement.

‘Fuck you taste soo good, taste like strawberries I swear’ he moaned into your pussy, his lips and chin soaking from your arousal, and that when watermelon sugar was born.

He started writing it the next day in the studio, and before you knew it a song about you own vagina was going no1 all over the world, winning countless awards and even securing Harry his first ever Grammy, and let’s just say after all of that he made sure to worship your cunt whenever he could, not that he wouldn’t stop doing that regardless.

You are snapped out of your daydream as Harry carries on with what he was saying.

‘The song is about it doesn’t really matter what it’s about! … ‘It's about the sweetness!" He turns on his heel looking in your direction, giving you a shit eating grin after basically telling a crowd of 20,000 how your pussy tasted, you mean the fans could probably make the links seeing as you had been with Harry for nearly 3 and a half years, long before the song was even created, but the fact that he was actually saying it made you red in the cheeks, and wet in your panties.

“It’s also about the female orgasm, so that settles that.” And after that statement the crowd goes absolutely wild finally getting the answer that has been waiting for and what made the screams even louder was the fact that Harry was now staring at you from your spot on the sidelines, a spot which you could be seen by a large section of the crowd, so everyone knew who he was looking at, this truly confirmed to them that the song was indeed about you if they didn’t know it before, and you didn’t know if the screams got louder because they were jealous or if they just going crazy over the fact that Harry wrote a song about your cunt. Either way you had become increasingly wet from Harry’s public admittance and the fact that he was looking deep into your eyes and you now were certainly going to pounce on him as soon as he stepped foot off of that stage, you gave him a look that told him he was in for it.

‘Tastes like strawberries’ he turns back to the crowd finally starting the song, you couldn’t help but smirk at his antics, he was a tease, such a fucking tease. You were definitely going to be getting some watermelon sugar after this, not that Harry would argue because he was in love with you, and your sweet, sweet pussy!

[easyrevenge]

shinkami drabble

word count : 1.6k

ship: shinsou hitoshi / kaminari denki 

rated: t

summary: denki has a crush on shinsou who works across the street at the second-hand music shop.

(ive never written shinkami before & i’ve been having writers block so i wrote this based on true events for warm-up.)

Kaminari is pretty sure he might die. 

“You’re being so dramatic,” Mina tells him. And yeah, he is, but that hardly changes the fact that he’s starving. Not to death but it’s significant. He forgot to eat breakfast and wasn’t even on the schedule to work today. He’s just a good employee, and friend, or whatever. Denki thinks Mina could at least be a little more--”But, someone did leave their Café Luna bag behind about an hour ago. See what’s in it.”

Denki loves her. “Café Luna? That place is expensive!” And delicious, so he’s heard. The restaurant opened a few weeks ago down the block and since then the line has been wrapped around the corner. 

He hurries to the back of their shop and rummages through the mini-refrigerator that definitely should have been cleaned out at least three weeks ago. Past some questionable yogurt cups, he finds what he’s looking for.

Denki only spends a solid five seconds debating the morality of the situation--is it rude to eat someone’s untouched food? What if they come back for it? But it’s a short-lived consideration, especially once he sees what’s inside; a small clear container with what a fancy as fuck sandwich—“It’s been an hour, surely they would have come back by now…” he reasons. Most importantly, as well as the deciding factor, “Oh hell yes!” A huge, insanely thick double chocolate chip cookie. “Sorry not sorry, loser.” Who the hell could leave any of this behind?

The sandwich is obliterated within minutes. Then Denki, because he is a good friend and model employee, brings the cookie back out to the front and offers some to Mina. 

“You’re sweet, Denks,” she says, patting his shoulder. Then she laughs, “But it looks like you might cry if I say yes and you're forced to actually share.”

Denki really, really loves her. 

He’s half-way through the cookie, propped up on the counter and munching away while Mina does all the clean up tasks that he’s excused from today for coming in. This is their usual slow hour anyway, not a customer in sight. Easy money. 

“So, I forgot to tell you that your walking wet-dream came by earlier.” 

Denki almost chokes on his cookie. “What! When? What was he wearing?” 

Mina smiles as she wipes the counters down. “I was swamped so I didn’t get a good look. He was in and out pretty quick.”

Denki leans back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment to revel in a quick day dream. One where he’s smooth and clever, manages to get his number, then maybe a date, a blow job, a boyfriend, a decent, regularly scheduled lay. He’d take that in any order, really. 

Denki’s never actually talked to the guy but he does know his name is Shinsou thanks to a very tactful phone call by Mina. He works at the secondhand music store across the street and one morning while opening shop they made eye contact across the asphalt. Denki had been sweeping while the other was writing a music lesson schedule on a chalkboard menu. It was anticlimactic, lasting no more than three seconds, but Denki never stops thinking about it. 

Shinsou is intimidating in the way that most pretty people are. He looks mean, disinterested. It pulls Denki in unquestionably, especially because he always smiles (full teeth) whenever he spots Shinsou through the window and rarely gets anything back except the highly coveted lifted eyebrow. Denki’s favorite thing about him is his eyes, dark and liquidy.

Denki also cares a lot about fashion and Shinsou’s clothes are the brand of cool that is obviously effortless, all black. His messy purple hair is usually pushed back with one of those cheap, zigzag plastic hair combs that were popular in the 90s.

Shinsou is aggressively hot, it’s almost offensive. Denki isn’t sure if he has a league but Shinsou is out of everyone’s.

“I can’t believe he actually came in. What did he order?”

Mina shrugs, “He just bought bottled water but he did spend a minute staring at your freaky art.”

“Oh my god,” Denki flushes pink with excitement and disbelief. He doesn’t exactly call himself an artist but he does fuck around a lot in his small studio and paint weird, neon colored, warped looking Pokémon-monster hybrids. Mina let’s him display them around her fruit shop because she’s a good friend. 

A customer comes in and Denki continues to lounge on the counter, still daydreaming of purple hues and picking at the cookie while Mina makes a smoothie that has far too many vegetables. 

“Hey Denks,” Mina says after the customer has left with their inevitable bowel movement in a cup. She sounds weird. He looks over and she’s smiling like the Cheshire Cat. He knows he’s fucked. “We’re best friends and I’m your boss, so you’re obligated to forgive me.”

Denki’s heart is squeezing tight and he stares wide eyed. “What did you do?”

Mina turns to look out through the front windows where Shinsou is currently looking left, then right, before doing a half-jog across the street. She hurriedly looks back at Denki, “I forgot to tell you the Café Luna bag was Shinsou’s and now it looks like he’s coming back for it and I’m going to go on my break now, bye.” She says the last part in one breath while the door opens and the little bell on top rings. 

Shinsou walks in and all the air is pulled from Denki’s lungs.

Denki doesn’t have time to think, just react. He practically throws himself off the counter and—again, not thinking because who has time for that when someone that good-looking is walking your way—does the only thing he can think of to dispose of the evidence. 

He shoves the rest of the cookie into his mouth. It’s a big fucking cookie, even with only half of it left. 

He never should have come into work today. 

The chime of the door tinkers again when it closes and Denki knows he has about 3.5 seconds before Shinsou reaches the front counter. He chews vigorously, practically suffocating on cookie crumbs and chocolate chips, but it’s all just turned to paste in his mouth and there’s no hope. 

Then, he starts to choke. 

“Should I call emergency services or just let you die.” It hardly sounds like a question and if it is, Shinsou is asking himself.

Denki sputters, standing up from his half-crouch in an attempt to hold on to an ounce of his dignity. But it’s all lost when they make eye contact and Denki knows there’s nothing he can do, so he just holds up a finger to say hold on before spinning around and grabbing the small trash bin under the sink. 

He spits the cookie mush into the bin, eyes watering while he coughs the dust out of his lungs, and prays that death comes swiftly in the next few seconds. 

Denki hates Mina. So, so much. 

Catching his breath, Denki leans forward over the sink and runs the water. He wonders if he should fill it up and drown himself but opts for rinsing his face instead. The eyes boring holes into his back are unrelenting and vicious. He turns around and regrets being born. 

Shinsou is way too goddamn pretty. His eyes drink Denki in, full of judgement and unabashed intensity before blinking back into nonchalance. “He lives.”

Denki can’t help it, he laughs. It’s loud and a bit wet because he hasn’t wiped off his face. What a mess. “Unfortunately.”

Shinsou doesn’t allow for any awkward silences though, just moves the conversation forward with ease. Denki barely has time to feel embarrassed but he knows he’s blushing deeper with every millisecond that ticks by. 

“I left my lunch here earlier, I think. A bag from Café Luna.” 

Denki considers lying because surely that would be the easiest route. He attempts to wipe his face off with the inner elbow of his sweater, nervous. “Oh—uh, I don’t…”

Shinsou holds up a long, slender finger.  Denki wonders what instruments he plays. Maybe he should sign up for one of his lessons, give himself a second-chance to make a good impression. Erase this one from existence. 

He shakes his head, explaining, “You have chocolate smeared on your chin.” An obvious accusation. Denki is so fucked. 

He sighs. “The cookie looked way too good, dude.” It feels good to confess, at least. “I’m sorry,” Denki apologizes, eyes downcast as he pulls at the hem of his sweater. 

“Are you,” Shinsou replies and Denki wants to run out the door but then something happens. Shinsou laughs. It’s a quiet sound, breathy and warm and deep. Denki looks up and smiles brightly because wow, that sounds like music. “I don’t think you are.”

Denki catches something like a smile on the corner of Shinsou’s mouth and it gives him some of his confidence back. Just enough. “Yeaaaah,” he breathes, grinning sheepishly. “It was really tasty so maybe not that sorry.”

“Sorry you got caught.”

“Definitely.”

“A true criminal.” Shinsou nods, something like approval. Then he pulls out his phone to check the time. Denki is already disappointed this interaction is ever going to end, despite his embarrassment. 

“I’ll have the sandwich back at least, I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break. I’m starving.”

No, yeah, Denki is going to fucking murder Mina. He’ll be an actual criminal. 

Denki knows his silence is telling but there’s no cool way to talk himself out of this. Instead he puts on his best pouty smile and apologetic eyes. Shinsou looks so unimpressed until he doesn’t, just annoyed.

He clicks his tongue, sucking air through his teeth like a disappointed parent. “I’m off in three hours.”

Denki pulls a face.  “Oh-kay.” 

Shinsou looks like he wants to roll his eyes. Denki feels hot all over, degraded even though he hasn’t been called any names or chastised. 

The silence makes Denki itchy so he breaks it with a fountain of apologies and offers to pay him back. “Do you have Venmo? Just charge me the cost! My username is 69Pika—”

“Please, stop.”

“Okay.”

Shinsou knocks his knuckles on the counter, looking him over once more before taking a few steps back. Another customer comes in and the bell tinkers twice, open, then close. 

They watch each other for a moment.

“If you’re off in time, you’re buying dinner after my shift. I’ll meet you outside the shop.” Then Shinsou turns and leaves and Denki just smiles because what the fuck else was he supposed to do. 

God, he loves Mina. 

[jjwritten]

Yum.

Can’t believe that BTS brought me a) back into fandoms shenanigans, b) back into writing. Almost 10 years without writing a full thing, 10 years without publishing. 

For Yum, I went with the flow of how I imagine Yoongi's “best” romantic relationship. I have a few more drabbles for this specific dynamic :) To anyone who might find this and reads, I hope you have a decent time.

tags: bts!Yoongi, fem!reader, fluffy fluff, a short smut, gender neutral additionnal characters, overworking, did I say fluff because fluff, domestic au, slice of life

warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex, health (nutrition and physical activity), overworking, a tiny bit of cockwarming, fingering, 

7,902 words

Remind me what you said you were going to do to me, please.

You waited a few seconds. Yoongi was looking at his screen, you knew it because he just had answered you at lightspeed. Yet the 3 dots wouldn't stop dancing. When they did, no answer appeared. Cool. Left on read, nice. You laughed it off, your boyfriend of three years being prone to this type of behavior. You also predicted to receive an elaborate answer in a couple hours, once the moment was gone. In the meantime, you should get back to work.

It had been about a month of overworking yourself for this massive new project. You were working on it with your best friend, in the interest of a big client. The stakes were big. Within this single project, you would provide a job to about 1000 artists, show engineers, students who wanted to debut in the business, and another thousand jobs in merch production. The reflexion upon finances was mind wracking, but was also the most rewarding. Everyone should be paid as much as possible. The show should be of the utmost quality which would require hours and hours of paid rehearsals. You and your best friend had to figure out the whole plan, the whole system, in order for the buyer to have no reason to refuse. They had called your duo, especially, to invest in a larger-than-life show, given that your ideas would blow their minds. People with big money who were dangling a whole pack of carrots in front of two ambitious passionate creators. Your motivation was simple : gathering all kinds of story tellers. With the experience you and your friend had, the show would border perfection in execution, with people from all over the globe, hired for their talents and work ethic.  A month of intense focus would hopefully transform the dream into reality.

Your success depended on your and your bf’s efforts. It also relied on the people around you. Min Yoongi loved you for your creativity, your humanity, the way your ears were shaped, the way you stopped seeing your surroundings to immerse yourself in the picture you were trying to paint when telling a story. The observant Jimin never missed to point it out: Yoongi became silent everytime, all heart eyes. "It's just my favorite thing ever," the rapper shrugged. To you, it was incredibly comforting. Being loved by him and loving him provided enough security for you to challenge yourself to be better. Never before in a relationship could you have become a zombie in your personal life to favor a work project. But Yoongi got it. Silently, he took care of your personal life’s reality: the construction work in the bathroom, the packages, the finances, the groceries, and making sure you ate nutritious foods and slept a healing sleep. He was a soft presence, making sure you had everything you needed to hustle. Everytime you would try paying attention to him in the midst of an overwhelmed brain and painful exhaustion, he'd reassure you. "We have time, baby. Sleep, eat, work. Don't worry about me. I'm proud of you." I love you, you whisper out loud, smiling. You let yourself indulge a little more in the recent memories.

"Y/n, come back hug me in the kitchen. It's almost ready." Yoongi whined, his head peaking at the door of your bedroom. "I think you need a little break. That frown has been on your face since Monday." You nodded. "I'll be right there." He doubted it, but turned back humming. You closed your computer and put it on the floor on your side of the bed. Yoongi had moved the bed on the right side of the room when you moved. Before, when you walked in, the right side of the bed was right next to the door. You wanted the left side because it was closest to the window, which, capital-D Dramatic Yoongi-ssi could not comprehend how you could POSSIBLY imagine he would sleep on the right side of a bed..  "I need the window!!! I always sleep on the window side!! - Since when??! - Since the day I was born, and most likely in my past lived too, you said through your teeth. - You slept on the right side of the bed all right in New York, huh? - BECAUSE IT WAS NEXT TO THE WINDOW!!! I can’t sleep next to the door, what if robbers come in?? I need the right side! - What do you mean, if robbers come in?? You plan on leaving me for dead?! - You bet. It's each human for their lives, oppa." Despite your sarcastic tone at the word, Yoongi still smirked. Run BTS editors' would have put a blushing filter on his cheeks. "You're mean", he whined. You smiled at his flushing face, and wrapped your hands around his waist. His hands landed automatically on your shoulders. His instincts said to push you away, but his body maintained you in place. Back then, you thought Yoongi would never admit how much he loved how tactile you were. Skip forward a year and a half, and he demands his cuddles, like a big boy. "Let's just put the bed on the other side of the room, mh?" The softness of his tone made your heart flutter. You kissed his cheek. "You are such a great problem-solver, oppa. I love your mind. - ‘ehh"

You stretched in the bed, and rolled on your stomach, taking a deep breath in of yours and Yoongi's smells in the sheets. His lazy footsteps in the corridor were the last thing you heard before drifting off.

"My love..." Yoongi's hand was stroking your hair, his mouth landing little pecks on the side of your face. "Come eat, babe." His voice was so soft. "I'm sorry, honey boy. I'm just too tired. - It's been four weeks, y/n. You need a break now. Come eat, and take the morning off tomorrow. I'll take care of you." You sat up at the temptation. Bed hair and pouty lips did not take away the worried look on his face. "Two more days. Just two more days, and I'll be back. - I can do 24 hours at best. It's getting too much, you don't even sleep well anymore. I have received my fair share of slaps in the face in the middle of night." You laugh. "24 hours is not possible. I'm leaving at 6am tomorrow for Tokyo. bf and I have meetings all day. Then again on Friday. I should be back home Saturday morning. I'll wake you up in your favorite way. - With coffee? - And with coffee, sure. - Don't tease me. By Saturday, you will be close to decomposing from how dead you look right now. - Oh, thanks." He laughs. "Fine. Except you don't take care of me, I take care of you. Massages, cuddles, movies, bulgogi and fruity dairy free ice-cream... - Ooooh, dairy free ice cream? Sounds like you'll be taking care of yourself too. - Yeah, I deserve it. Plus, taking care of you is taking care of me. I need it, you need it. - Fair enough. Is there still room for sex? - Haha. Is there room for sex, haha. Hahaha. He shakes his shoulders as he pretends to laugh. - Does that mean a lot? your eyebrows question too. - I can't say for now. It depends on whether I'm dealing with a decomposing girlfriend, or if she's feeling herself. - Double standards. I see. - You better sleep well in the plane."

Five minutes of daydreaming have passed, and that's all the time you have. Back to work.

2 billion dollars. Two. Billion. Dollars. USD $2,000,000,000. 2,198,960,000,000 KRW. You and your best friend have been sitting in the airport lounge, processing. You thought you were developing a project for Japan. Turned out, the investors had planned to make it international all along. Tokyo, Buenos Aires, Los Angeles, Paris, El Jadida. The project will be ten times as big as you initially thought it would be, and extend over the course of three years. The team would be huge to help. Your dream had become reality five years ago when you both launched the company. You don't even know how to react to it being stretched like that.

The key-card to your door weighs a ton in your hand. You clumsily make your way inside, pushing your carrier in front of you. Shoes off, you drag your heavy body to the bedroom and let it crash into the bed. Naturally, Yoongi’s body is where it’s supposed to be, his knees in an L shape. Your face is planted in the blanket. Deep sigh. End of the road. Disconnect system. It’s break time. Long fingers find their way to your hair. “You good, baby? - Dude. Get up. Have so much to tell you.” You hear muffling. He's not moving. “Dude. Bf and I got a two BILLION check, get up. - Two billion?!” Yoongi is up. You proceed to tell him everything. Finally, you can explain to him what this project was about. He listens carefully, cheerfully, sometimes reacts excessively. You don’t care, you do the same because it feels like a reunion and you’re both overly excited to meet again. The both of you on the bed feels like being on your own island. Your tummy tickles with joy for the present, the moments you are going to spend with Yoongi and for the bigger picture with the unfolding of your project. Within a few hours of talking, the month of intense focus and routine is released. You fall asleep in the middle of a sentence, utterly relaxed. Yoongi presses a kiss between your nose and lips, first spot that came, before falling asleep too.

12PM. Eternal question: is it good morning or good afternoon? Knowing your boyfriend, you better think of it before you open your mouth. “Hi.” You say smiling. That will do. “Hi, love.” He breathes you in loudly. You wriggle your nose in his neck. His arms are wrapped around you, yours around him. Couldn’t think of a better place to be in. You both scratch yourselves on each other, rubbing your forehead on his cheek, him massaging your hands, kissing your hair, ears, kissing his nose, lips. For some reason, his bottom lip looks especially plumped to your half-open eyes. You spend more time nibbling on it, kissing it on its own without him giving the kiss back. Delicious. Hands rubbing all over, your brain starts working properly. Wait a minute? Yoongi’s usually soft tummy feels particularly toned. You lift the covers. “Mh, did I miss something? - Whatever, you hear him smirk though. - Come on, show me. - Aw, leave me alone, it’s cold.” He lies on his stomach, a big smile on his face making his cheeks look all soft and bite worthy. You allow yourself the indulgence. You are all excited now! You jump out of bed. "Okay, so coffee and then abs, okay?" With smily mhmhs, your adorable boyfriend rubs his face in the pillow. He's shy, you know. His body image is important to him. You feel bad for not having noticed. Knowing the man, he probably flaunted his buff bod as if it were nothing on week 1. Damn! Then on week 2, he most likely tried to have you feel them, "naturally". You're a little sad to have missed those cues, and some of them resurface in your foggy memory. Your routine was so strict during the past month: wake up, meditate, work out, to make sure your brain worked optimally during the day. Work outs were intense because serotonin helps a ton. Food was rich and nutritious, cooked with the most important ingredient in this household, the love of Min Yoongi. Not noticing the changes in your own body was a thing, but to miss out on your buff boyfriend? A no go. You grabbed everything to make him his iced coffee in the largest cup you could find, knowing he would l-o-v-e the look of quasi-eternal quantity. You were light on your feet, smiling at the peeled pineapple and singing to the pack of nuts. Yoongi’s face was slightly round a month ago, and he looked a little buff already. The first week, the fat must have melted a little bit to turn into juicy muscles. Then, with him making sure your brain was working full power, he fed himself the same foods. Your focus spur basically fed your boyfriend buff food. What did you do to yourself and above all, HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE IT?! As you put the spoons in the greek yogurts, you think of his little face smushed in the pillow as he pretended not to be excited by you finally noticing. You know that he's proud of himself and happy that you finally got all of your senses back. What a fun day ahead. With a smile up to your ears and a plate of things that should power up the man, you mini-skip back to your room.

Being with Yoongi meant you had about 10 boyfriends behind the same deep brown eyes. He could be a giggly chubby boy with his little bucket hats that he loved, making him look like an elf. He could be a meaty dude with an attitude and deep stare. He could be a skinny tech-boy with quick witts and always a book in his hands, and he could be business-Yoongi, dressed in all black and loving the sound of his big rings clinging together. What was even more beautiful was that all of these traits were interchangeable. Skinny Yoongi could have an attitude and a bucket hat. Buff Yoongi could be giggly and nerdy. He could do it all at anytime. Beneath it all, the constant of his intellect and emotionality made Min Yoongi appear as if he adorned a bow and ribbon at all times, ready to be gifted and unwrapped and enjoyed. Yum, you think.

"Coffee!"

Yoongi is on his phone in the bed. The AC is blasting hot air in a soothing sound. You can't help but laugh when you notice the naked skin of his chest peaking over the sheets, and his pyjamas thrown on the floor.

"Why-why-why? Why are you laughing? - Min Yoongi, I love it when you're feeling yourself. Please, drink this and put on a show for me. - Aren't you being a little dramatic? he hisses and bubbles his saliva. It's just abs and pecs, he says as he drinks, eye brows raising up his forehead. Five and six are barely defined.” He’s referring to his six-pack. You squint. “You..." He cocks his head as to say "I know, I'm hot" and your body is warming up.

Breakfast is made more delicious by Yoongi's feet rubbing against yours under the blanket. You're sitting cross-legged in front of each other, on the little island that is your bed. TV's turned on for some light background sound but you only hear Yoongi's giggles in between his smart clapbacks and mouthfuls of yoghurt. Eventually, the plate is moved to the side so your legs can extend on his lap and you feed him pieces of pineapple. Your fingers go a little too far into his mouth, and he relishes in your squirming when his lips brush them softly. Soon enough, his tongue is licking the tip and there's no pineapple left. Meaning, no reason to take your fingers away. Your leg on his hip tells your brain that in classic Yoongi fashion, he's not wearing any underwear. It's getting really hot between the sexual tension and the heater being turned all the way on. It is one of your favorite thing to do on days off: the heat allows you both to stay naked without worry. Positions can change as much as you like. Sweat drops make the whole thing more slippery and sexy. It's messy and delicious. You can't wait to be in the middle of the action, but remember to enjoy the foreplay. Yoongi's tongue acts as a wet bed on your ring finger. You relish in the look of his hollowed cheeks and suck on your skin. Your free hand has a great idea, on its own: exploring that built up chest. It's firm and the skin is soft and milky. It still holds a little bit of fat that makes his pectorals bouncy. He's going to fuck you, and they're going to move. Ugh. You swallow your saliva. Yoongi's eyes are getting rounder with arrousal. His traits go slightly down, showing he is getting hot and needy. You can feel pins and needles tickling your labia. Your boyfriend treats all of your fingers with the same lubbed up care. He opens his mouth to lick them from the stems to the tips. "I'm taking care of you today, remember? You relax and enjoy, understood?" You gulp and nod. Your first feeling is disappointment: when Yoongi says "I'll take care of you" it mostly means he won't put his cock in your mouth. That's okay. It will be for the next round. You're salivating. Meanwhile, Yoongi's mouth is going up your arm, on the sensitive thin skin inside your elbow and upper-arm. His tongue glides along. He creates the pattern: plumped bottom lip first, lubbed tongue, top lip. The three tightened together and make a wet sound when he moves onto another spot. Your legs feel numb. You're amused by Yoongi's needy look, but worried about your own. You feel so empty and deprived. Your head is already reversed back. Yoongi's special care is getting your muscles to relax one by one, better than any guided meditation ever. He stops for a second to take off your -his- t-shirt. He guides you to sit against the head board and his mouth latches on your right nipple instantly. The position is making you anticipate what you know he's leading to, but the nipple in his mouth is bringing you back to the present. The tongue is playful. Saliva dripping. Wet. It's the word that comes to your mind and you feel your pussy overflowing. Soft moans escape you. Your eyes are closed. You notice how relaxed your body is. Your arms are splayed on your sides and your back is one with the headboard. You're getting too relaxed. Yoongi makes his way to the other nipple and your body tenses up suddenly. Hands to his hair, ruffling. You realize his hands are on both sides of your stomach, keeping you still. You can't help to wonder for how long they've been there. "Yoongi..." It's not a prompt. You don't want him to go faster. Saying his name feels right. Yet, the air shifts. "y/n, mh" his raspy voice sends chills down your back. He kisses your mouth passionately and everything quickens. Shorter breaths, instant sweat. His hands cup your face to bring you to sit up. They slide down to your waist and you get up on your knees to let him grab your ass cheeks. He spreads them, making you moan as you feel your pussy more exposed. Your hands now cup his cheeks to get him closer, before sliding in the back of his head to plunge your fingers in his silky hair. Yoongi's hard bare cock is pressing against your cotton underwear.  Both your hands go down to his shoulders in a light touch. In the midst of anticipation, you both are melting under each other's touch. His fingers dig into the skin of your hips, yours in his shoulders. "You're leaking" you say, looking down at the wet tip of his cock and the wetness sticking to your lower stomach. "No kidding." You smile into another kiss. He dips in your neck to leave wet kisses. As your head angles to give him more space, you catch a glimpse of your reflexion in the mirror. His perky toned ass is jerking up and down as he slowly ruts against you. Your hands powerlessly fall on his ass, and the image brings you back to the urgency. You squeeze and get his mouth back on your own. He spreads your legs bringing his hands in between your thighs. He is so needy. Yoongi slides his member up and down your slit and starts slowly penetrating you. Your pussy fills up slowly. He pushes himself as deeply in as he can, stays still for a couple seconds and slides back out, his tip still lightly touching your entrance. You open your eyes to look at him in the mirror, slim legs steady on the bed. Your hands still on his ass cheeks, he pushes himself back in. It's slow, controlled, powerful. He goes in the same way for a third time: "Fuck, I love you." You smile. He's not talking to you, but to your pussy. You kiss him and press on his hips to have him go faster. "I turn around? - Yes." His arms wrap around your waist softly as you press your back against his front. One hand holding onto the wall, the other on the back of his neck. You arch your back to give him better access. His cock fills you up again, this time offering your G-spot some electrifying friction. His rythm accelerates, senses slowly getting lost. He starts groaning, you start moaning. Somehow, your brain manages to list very quickly everything you'll do to him, and everything you'll have him do to you. It turns you on even more, fantasizing about Yoongi and you having more sex while having sex. His long middle finger comes pressing your clit, going up and down to your entrance, where he invites the tip of it to join his dick. You always thought of his fingers as fingering fingers. They’re the perfect shape. Your pussy is pliant and delirious. She's directing your body and your mind. None of what she says makes logical sense but, fuck, she happy. The chills in your spine, your erected nipples, Yoongi tightly pressed against you. His head often reverses back, chasing his own pleasure, hipsRemind me what you said you were going to do to me, please.You waited a few seconds. Yoongi was looking at his screen, you knew it because he just had answered you at lightspeed. Yet the 3 dots wouldn't stop dancing. When they did, no answer appeared. Cool. Left on read, nice. You laughed it off, your boyfriend of three years being prone to this type of behavior. You also predicted to receive an elaborate answer in a couple hours, once the moment was gone. In the meantime, you should get back to work.It had been about a month of overworking yourself for this massive new project. You were working on it with your best friend, in the interest of a big client. The stakes were big. Within this single project, you would provide a job to about 1000 artists, show engineers, students who wanted to debut in the business, and another thousand jobs in merch production. The reflexion upon finances was mind wracking, but was also the most rewarding. Everyone should be paid as much as possible. The show should be of the utmost quality which would require hours and hours of paid rehearsals. You and your best friend had to figure out the whole plan, the whole system, in order for the buyer to have no reason to refuse. They had called your duo, especially, to invest in a larger-than-life show, given that your ideas would blow their minds. People with big money who were dangling a whole pack of carrots in front of two ambitious passionate creators. Your motivation was simple : gathering all kinds of story tellers. With the experience you and your friend had, the show would border perfection in execution, with people from all over the globe, hired for their talents and work ethic. A month of intense focus would hopefully transform the dream into reality.Your success depended on your and your bf’s efforts. It also relied on the people around you. Min Yoongi loved you for your creativity, your humanity, the way your ears were shaped, the way you stopped seeing your surroundings to immerse yourself in the picture you were trying to paint when telling a story. The observant Jimin never missed to point it out: Yoongi became silent everytime, all heart eyes. "It's just my favorite thing ever," the rapper shrugged. To you, it was incredibly comforting. Being loved by him and loving him provided enough security for you to challenge yourself to be better. Never before in a relationship could you have become a zombie in your personal life to favor a work project. But Yoongi got it. Silently, he took care of your personal life’s reality: the construction work in the bathroom, the packages, the finances, the groceries, and making sure you ate nutritious foods and slept a healing sleep. He was a soft presence, making sure you had everything you needed to hustle. Everytime you would try paying attention to him in the midst of an overwhelmed brain and painful exhaustion, he'd reassure you. "We have time, baby. Sleep, eat, work. Don't worry about me. I'm proud of you." I love you, you whisper out loud, smiling. You let yourself indulge a little more in the recent memories."Y/n, come back hug me in the kitchen. It's almost ready." Yoongi whined, his head peaking at the door of your bedroom. "I think you need a little break. That frown has been on your face since Monday." You nodded. "I'll be right there." He doubted it, but turned back humming. You closed your computer and put it on the floor on your side of the bed. Yoongi had moved the bed on the right side of the room when you moved. Before, when you walked in, the right side of the bed was right next to the door. You wanted the left side because it was closest to the window, which, capital-D Dramatic Yoongi-ssi could not comprehend how you could POSSIBLY imagine he would sleep on the right side of a bed.. "I need the window!!! I always sleep on the window side!! - Since when??! - Since the day I was born, and most likely in my past lived too, you said through your teeth. - You slept on the right side of the bed all right in New York, huh? - BECAUSE IT WAS NEXT TO THE WINDOW!!! I can’t sleep next to the door, what if robbers come in?? I need the right side! - What do you mean, if robbers come in?? You plan on leaving me for dead?! - You bet. It's each human for their lives, oppa." Despite your sarcastic tone at the word, Yoongi still smirked. Run BTS editors' would have put a blushing filter on his cheeks. "You're mean", he whined. You smiled at his flushing face, and wrapped your hands around his waist. His hands landed automatically on your shoulders. His instincts said to push you away, but his body maintained you in place. Back then, you thought Yoongi would never admit how much he loved how tactile you were. Skip forward a year and a half, and he demands his cuddles, like a big boy. "Let's just put the bed on the other side of the room, mh?" The softness of his tone made your heart flutter. You kissed his cheek. "You are such a great problem-solver, oppa. I love your mind. - ‘ehh"You stretched in the bed, and rolled on your stomach, taking a deep breath in of yours and Yoongi's smells in the sheets. His lazy footsteps in the corridor were the last thing you heard before drifting off."My love..." Yoongi's hand was stroking your hair, his mouth landing little pecks on the side of your face. "Come eat, babe." His voice was so soft. "I'm sorry, honey boy. I'm just too tired. - It's been four weeks, y/n. You need a break now. Come eat, and take the morning off tomorrow. I'll take care of you." You sat up at the temptation. Bed hair and pouty lips did not take away the worried look on his face. "Two more days. Just two more days, and I'll be back. - I can do 24 hours at best. It's getting too much, you don't even sleep well anymore. I have received my fair share of slaps in the face in the middle of night." You laugh. "24 hours is not possible. I'm leaving at 6am tomorrow for Tokyo. bf and I have meetings all day. Then again on Friday. I should be back home Saturday morning. I'll wake you up in your favorite way. - With coffee? - And with coffee, sure. - Don't tease me. By Saturday, you will be close to decomposing from how dead you look right now. - Oh, thanks." He laughs. "Fine. Except you don't take care of me, I take care of you. Massages, cuddles, movies, bulgogi and fruity dairy free ice-cream... - Ooooh, dairy free ice cream? Sounds like you'll be taking care of yourself too. - Yeah, I deserve it. Plus, taking care of you is taking care of me. I need it, you need it. - Fair enough. Is there still room for sex? - Haha. Is there room for sex, haha. Hahaha. He shakes his shoulders as he pretends to laugh. - Does that mean a lot? your eyebrows question too. - I can't say for now. It depends on whether I'm dealing with a decomposing girlfriend, or if she's feeling herself. - Double standards. I see. - You better sleep well in the plane."Five minutes of daydreaming have passed, and that's all the time you have. Back to work.2 billion dollars. Two. Billion. Dollars. USD $2,000,000,000. 2,198,960,000,000 KRW. You and your best friend have been sitting in the airport lounge, processing. You thought you were developing a project for Japan. Turned out, the investors had planned to make it international all along. Tokyo, Buenos Aires, Los Angeles, Paris, El Jadida. The project will be ten times as big as you initially thought it would be, and extend over the course of three years. The team would be huge to help. Your dream had become reality five years ago when you both launched the company. You don't even know how to react to it being stretched like that.The key-card to your door weighs a ton in your hand. You clumsily make your way inside, pushing your carrier in front of you. Shoes off, you drag your heavy body to the bedroom and let it crash into the bed. Naturally, Yoongi’s body is where it’s supposed to be, his knees in an L shape. Your face is planted in the blanket. Deep sigh. End of the road. Disconnect system. It’s break time. Long fingers find their way to your hair. “You good, baby? - Dude. Get up. Have so much to tell you.” You hear muffling. He's not moving. “Dude. Bf and I got a two BILLION check, get up. - Two billion?!” Yoongi is up. You proceed to tell him everything. Finally, you can explain to him what this project was about. He listens carefully, cheerfully, sometimes reacts excessively. You don’t care, you do the same because it feels like a reunion and you’re both overly excited to meet again. The both of you on the bed feels like being on your own island. Your tummy tickles with joy for the present, the moments you are going to spend with Yoongi and for the bigger picture with the unfolding of your project. Within a few hours of talking, the month of intense focus and routine is released. You fall asleep in the middle of a sentence, utterly relaxed. Yoongi presses a kiss between your nose and lips, first spot that came, before falling asleep too.12PM. Eternal question: is it good morning or good afternoon? Knowing your boyfriend, you better think of it before you open your mouth. “Hi.” You say smiling. That will do. “Hi, love.” He breathes you in loudly. You wriggle your nose in his neck. His arms are wrapped around you, yours around him. Couldn’t think of a better place to be in. You both scratch yourselves on each other, rubbing your forehead on his cheek, him massaging your hands, kissing your hair, ears, kissing his nose, lips. For some reason, his bottom lip looks especially plumped to your half-open eyes. You spend more time nibbling on it, kissing it on its own without him giving the kiss back. Delicious. Hands rubbing all over, your brain starts working properly. Wait a minute? Yoongi’s usually soft tummy feels particularly toned. You lift the covers. “Mh, did I miss something? - Whatever, you hear him smirk though. - Come on, show me. - Aw, leave me alone, it’s cold.” He lies on his stomach, a big smile on his face making his cheeks look all soft and bite worthy. You allow yourself the indulgence. You are all excited now! You jump out of bed. "Okay, so coffee and then abs, okay?" With smily mhmhs, your adorable boyfriend rubs his face in the pillow. He's shy, you know. His body image is important to him. You feel bad for not having noticed. Knowing the man, he probably flaunted his buff bod as if it were nothing on week 1. Damn! Then on week 2, he most likely tried to have you feel them, "naturally". You're a little sad to have missed those cues, and some of them resurface in your foggy memory. Your routine was so strict during the past month: wake up, meditate, work out, to make sure your brain worked optimally during the day. Work outs were intense because serotonin helps a ton. Food was rich and nutritious, cooked with the most important ingredient in this household, the love of Min Yoongi. Not noticing the changes in your own body was a thing, but to miss out on your buff boyfriend? A no go. You grabbed everything to make him his iced coffee in the largest cup you could find, knowing he would l-o-v-e the look of quasi-eternal quantity. You were light on your feet, smiling at the peeled pineapple and singing to the pack of nuts. Yoongi’s face was slightly round a month ago, and he looked a little buff already. The first week, the fat must have melted a little bit to turn into juicy muscles. Then, with him making sure your brain was working full power, he fed himself the same foods. Your focus spur basically fed your boyfriend buff food. What did you do to yourself and above all, HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE IT?! As you put the spoons in the greek yogurts, you think of his little face smushed in the pillow as he pretended not to be excited by you finally noticing. You know that he's proud of himself and happy that you finally got all of your senses back. What a fun day ahead. With a smile up to your ears and a plate of things that should power up the man, you mini-skip back to your room.Being with Yoongi meant you had about 10 boyfriends behind the same deep brown eyes. He could be a giggly chubby boy with his little bucket hats that he loved, making him look like an elf. He could be a meaty dude with an attitude and deep stare. He could be a skinny tech-boy with quick witts and always a book in his hands, and he could be business-Yoongi, dressed in all black and loving the sound of his big rings clinging together. What was even more beautiful was that all of these traits were interchangeable. Skinny Yoongi could have an attitude and a bucket hat. Buff Yoongi could be giggly and nerdy. He could do it all at anytime. Beneath it all, the constant of his intellect and emotionality made Min Yoongi appear as if he adorned a bow and ribbon at all times, ready to be gifted and unwrapped and enjoyed. Yum, you think."Coffee!"Yoongi is on his phone in the bed. The AC is blasting hot air in a soothing sound. You can't help but laugh when you notice the naked skin of his chest peaking over the sheets, and his pyjamas thrown on the floor."Why-why-why? Why are you laughing? - Min Yoongi, I love it when you're feeling yourself. Please, drink this and put on a show for me. - Aren't you being a little dramatic? he hisses and bubbles his saliva. It's just abs and pecs, he says as he drinks, eye brows raising up his forehead. Five and six are barely defined.” He’s referring to his six-pack. You squint. “You..." He cocks his head as to say "I know, I'm hot" and your body is warming up.Breakfast is made more delicious by Yoongi's feet rubbing against yours under the blanket. You're sitting cross-legged in front of each other, on the little island that is your bed. TV's turned on for some light background sound but you only hear Yoongi's giggles in between his smart clapbacks and mouthfuls of yoghurt. Eventually, the plate is moved to the side so your legs can extend on his lap and you feed him pieces of pineapple. Your fingers go a little too far into his mouth, and he relishes in your squirming when his lips brush them softly. Soon enough, his tongue is licking the tip and there's no pineapple left. Meaning, no reason to take your fingers away. Your leg on his hip tells your brain that in classic Yoongi fashion, he's not wearing any underwear. It's getting really hot between the sexual tension and the heater being turned all the way on. It is one of your favorite thing to do on days off: the heat allows you both to stay naked without worry. Positions can change as much as you like. Sweat drops make the whole thing more slippery and sexy. It's messy and delicious. You can't wait to be in the middle of the action, but remember to enjoy the foreplay. Yoongi's tongue acts as a wet bed on your ring finger. You relish in the look of his hollowed cheeks and suck on your skin. Your free hand has a great idea, on its own: exploring that built up chest. It's firm and the skin is soft and milky. It still holds a little bit of fat that makes his pectorals bouncy. He's going to fuck you, and they're going to move. Ugh. You swallow your saliva. Yoongi's eyes are getting rounder with arrousal. His traits go slightly down, showing he is getting hot and needy. You can feel pins and needles tickling your labia. Your boyfriend treats all of your fingers with the same lubbed up care. He opens his mouth to lick them from the stems to the tips. "I'm taking care of you today, remember? You relax and enjoy, understood?" You gulp and nod. Your first feeling is disappointment: when Yoongi says "I'll take care of you" it mostly means he won't put his cock in your mouth. That's okay. It will be for the next round. You're salivating. Meanwhile, Yoongi's mouth is going up your arm, on the sensitive thin skin inside your elbow and upper-arm. His tongue glides along. He creates the pattern: plumped bottom lip first, lubbed tongue, top lip. The three tightened together and make a wet sound when he moves onto another spot. Your legs feel numb. You're amused by Yoongi's needy look, but worried about your own. You feel so empty and deprived. Your head is already reversed back. Yoongi's special care is getting your muscles to relax one by one, better than any guided meditation ever. He stops for a second to take off your -his- t-shirt. He guides you to sit against the head board and his mouth latches on your right nipple instantly. The position is making you anticipate what you know he's leading to, but the nipple in his mouth is bringing you back to the present. The tongue is playful. Saliva dripping. Wet. It's the word that comes to your mind and you feel your pussy overflowing. Soft moans escape you. Your eyes are closed. You notice how relaxed your body is. Your arms are splayed on your sides and your back is one with the headboard. You're getting too relaxed. Yoongi makes his way to the other nipple and your body tenses up suddenly. Hands to his hair, ruffling. You realize his hands are on both sides of your stomach, keeping you still. You can't help to wonder for how long they've been there. "Yoongi..." It's not a prompt. You don't want him to go faster. Saying his name feels right. Yet, the air shifts. "y/n, mh" his raspy voice sends chills down your back. He kisses your mouth passionately and everything quickens. Shorter breaths, instant sweat. His hands cup your face to bring you to sit up. They slide down to your waist and you get up on your knees to let him grab your ass cheeks. He spreads them, making you moan as you feel your pussy more exposed. Your hands now cup his cheeks to get him closer, before sliding in the back of his head to plunge your fingers in his silky hair. Yoongi's hard bare cock is pressing against your cotton underwear.  Both your hands go down to his shoulders in a light touch. In the midst of anticipation, you both are melting under each other's touch. His fingers dig into the skin of your hips, yours in his shoulders. "You're leaking" you say, looking down at the wet tip of his cock and the wetness sticking to your lower stomach. "No kidding." You smile into another kiss. He dips in your neck to leave wet kisses. As your head angles to give him more space, you catch a glimpse of your reflexion in the mirror. His perky toned ass is jerking up and down as he slowly ruts against you. Your hands powerlessly fall on his ass, and the image brings you back to the urgency. You squeeze and get his mouth back on your own. He spreads your legs bringing his hands in between your thighs. He is so needy. Yoongi slides his member up and down your slit and starts slowly penetrating you. Your pussy fills up slowly. He pushes himself as deeply in as he can, stays still for a couple seconds and slides back out, his tip still lightly touching your entrance. You open your eyes to look at him in the mirror, slim legs steady on the bed. Your hands still on his ass cheeks, he pushes himself back in. It's slow, controlled, powerful. He goes in the same way for a third time: "Fuck, I love you." You smile. He's not talking to you, but to your pussy. You kiss him and press on his hips to have him go faster. "I turn around? - Yes." His arms wrap around your waist softly as you press your back against his front. One hand holding onto the wall, the other on the back of his neck. You arch your back to give him better access. His cock fills you up again, this time offering your G-spot some electrifying friction. His rythm accelerates, senses slowly getting lost. He starts groaning, you start moaning. Somehow, your brain manages to list very quickly everything you'll do to him, and everything you'll have him do to you. It turns you on even more, fantasizing about Yoongi and you having more sex while having sex. His long middle finger comes pressing your clit, going up and down to your entrance, where he invites the tip of it to join his dick. You always thought of his fingers as fingering fingers. They’re the perfect shape. Your pussy is pliant and delirious. She's directing your body and your mind. None of what she says makes logical sense but, fuck, she happy. The chills in your spine, your erected nipples, Yoongi tightly pressed against you. His head often reverses back, chasing his own pleasure, hips jerking quickly. Your hand keeps ruffling his hair. It’s rough and soft all at the same time. The movement of his hips become uncontrolled and erratic. Mh. The climax has him groan louder while you let out a deep audible sigh. He stays in, enjoying your warmth, catching his breath, humming softly, almost whining but in a low register. You come down from your high and kiss his cheek. He kisses yours, your neck, your shoulder before pulling out, your juices dripping down his veiny pale shaft and your legs. His hands settle on your sides, encouraging you to turn around. You embrace each other, tightly, both your hearts pounding. "I missed you. - I missed you too." Kiss. His tongue intertwines with yours and you're reminded of the dripping mess he made in your pussy. You put both your hands on each side of his precious head: "Clean me up, will you? - Mhmh" Yoongi pushes you back, spreads your legs, and laps away. Slowly and langidly. Cherry on the cake.Yoongi showers first to leave for his one meeting today. You'll have about two hours to yourself. Enough time for you to clean up the house, unpack your carrier, and take care of any little mundane task you overlooked this month. You both agreed on a 2000 pieces puzzle to order for when he comes back. What you don't think about is that sometimes, when you make plans, your cunt sneakily laughs. A puzzle? Not today.g quickly. Your hand keeps ruffling his hair. It’s rough and soft all at the same time. The movement of his hips become uncontrolled and erratic. Mh. The climax has him groan louder while you let out a deep audible sigh. He stays in, enjoying your warmth, catching his breath, humming softly, almost whining but in a low register. You come down from your high and kiss his cheek. He kisses yours, your neck, your shoulder before pulling out, your juices dripping down his veiny pale shaft and your legs. His hands settle on your sides, encouraging you to turn around. You embrace each other, tightly, both your hearts pounding. "I missed you. - I missed you too." Kiss. His tongue intertwines with yours and you're reminded of the dripping mess he made in your pussy. You put both your hands on each side of his precious head: "Clean me up, will you? - Mhmh" Yoongi pushes you back, spreads your legs, and laps away. Slowly and langidly. Cherry on the cake.

Yoongi showers first to leave for his one meeting today. You'll have about two hours to yourself. Enough time for you to clean up the house, unpack your carrier, and take care of any little mundane task you overlooked this month. You both agreed on a 2000 pieces puzzle to order for when he comes back. What you don't think about is that sometimes, when you make plans, your cunt sneakily laughs. A puzzle? Not today.

[waywardtricks]

My Pet Angel

Supernatural drabble, Gabriel x Reader, Random fluff

Unbetaed - so any mistakes are mine. 

---------------

The bunker seemed oddly crowed. Apparently Dean and Sam had a hunt they needed assistance with, which was why you were there. You’d become a pretty decent hunter in recent years, especially since you hadn’t been born into the life, but had stumbled into blindly in your twenties. You’d unwittingly flirted with a vampire that decided you’d make a good midnight snack, luckily a man named Bobby Singer had saved your ass. You’d met the Winchesters not long after. That had been ten years ago.

 Today though, you were rethinking your fondness for the particular brotherly pair. Given they had brought you into a room with an angry witch.

 And boy was Rowena pissed. You had no idea why as her accent was incredibly thick in her anger. All you could tell was that it had something to do with stupid angels and stupid brothers, and why did they think they could summon her like she was their personal pet witch. Her bad mood wouldn’t have been at all an issue if she didn’t have the magic mojo to back it up. Since she did… well you had found the lore book in front of you incredibly fascinating all of sudden.

The boys apparently didn’t get the memo as Sam was trying to talk her down. Which of course was countered by Gabriel who seemed to find it his purpose in life to wind everyone up. Cas was pleasantly quiet, but he had always been the strong but silent type, so it wasn’t a surprise. Dean just leaned back, sipping at the drink in front of him, frowning. None of their countenances had any positive effect on her.

 You ducked your head, hoping she wouldn’t turn her ire your way.

 Though you occasionally peaked at the boys, eyeing Gabriel as his lips twisted in his normal smug half smile. It was a look that made most people want to slap him. It made you feel something completely different – mainly flustered.

 You’d had a crush on the archangel for the longest time now. You’d met him years ago when the apocalypse had been kicking off and had found him attractive and funny, but he’d gone and died. And your crush had turned into a pang of longing. But then, he was suddenly back and you found your feelings were just as strong. Especially as he ended up hanging around a lot more often.

 You were drawn back to the present as finally, Rowena seemed to have had enough because she threw her arms up in the air with what sounded like a curse, and turned her back to you, now facing the four boys in the room. She glared daggers at them, eyes flitting between the four startled pairs of eyes.

 She started to mutter some incoherent thing. Castiel and Gabriel both simultaneously got freaked out looks on their faces and moved – Gabriel to try and stop whatever she was in the process of doing and Castiel to shield Dean. They weren’t fast enough.

 You waved your hand to clear the suddenly dark air and blinked trying to see. When the deep purple strangely sweet scented fog that enveloped the room finally died down you appeared to be the only one still there. “Hello?” You murmured.

 “Don worry luv.” Rowena’s voice came from the entryway of the room. You turned, finding her there leaning against the frame like the beautiful drama queen she was, looking smug. “It’ll only last twenty-four hours. But they needed a taste of their own wee medicine.” She waved at you, “I’ll pop by in bit. Good luck, Y/N.” And with that, she strutted from the room and presumably from the bunker as a whole.

 Sighing, you looked around the room with apprehension. Whatever Rowena had done, apparently you had been left to deal with it. There was nothing apparently wrong, except for the missing boys.

 Then a small ‘woof’ and the feeling of soft fur at ankle level brought your gaze to the floor where a small corgi was winding around your legs excitedly. Not far from him was a floppy eared husky that was half on top of a german shepherd. A yip sounded from a chair, which turned out to be a golden retriever puppy, who was looking at you imploringly. It was sitting in a pile of clothing, which oddly resembled what Sam had been wearing a moment before.

 “Okay…” you murmured nervously. The corgi barked again, and you reached down to pick the excited creature up. The small dog settled down almost immediately upon being picked up, his little nose pressing into your chest. It’s big expressive whiskey colored eyes blinking up at you with clear contentment. Wait… whiskey eyes? That shade was really really specific to a certain angel that you’d been pining after. You’d spent enough time daydreaming about those eyes that you’d recognize them anywhere.

 You turned to examine the other three puppies and yep, eyes in the exact shades of the Winchesters’ and Castiel’s eyes blinked up at you in concern. “Oh my Chuck.” You hissed in surprise. Then it hit you, Rowena had said she didn’t like being their pet witch. “She turned you into literal pets.” You couldn’t help a small laugh that escaped your lips, because it was kind of funny. Even if you were left holding the bag…. Or leashes in this case.

 You sat back down on the chair, the corgi still cuddled to your chest. Of course, said corgi was Gabriel…. You glared down at the now very soft angel who was nuzzling into your cleavage. You shifted him away, because even though you’d certainly imaged that specific angel’s face buried there, it hadn’t been like this.

 “Can you guys understand me still? Um. Bark twice for yes.” Two rapid barks from the golden, er… Sam, seemed to answer your question. “Well, shit.” You thought back to what Rowena had said before leaving, “And this is for 24 hours. Now what?” You asked of the four. None of them offered anything helpful, as a chorus of yips, growls, and barks were your only responses.

 “Well, I’m rubbish with magic, and it’ll wear off on its own, so I hope you guys are okay with hanging as puppies for a bit. Hm…. Let’s get you all some water.” You set Gabriel on the floor. He gave a pitiful whine at the abandonment. “Come on boys.” You stood easily, heading toward the kitchen to pour some bowls of water for the dogs.

 The four scampered after you. Cas and Dean seemed majestic in their movements, Sam and Gabriel not so much. Gabe’s legs were short, and he sort of skittered about, almost prancing. Sam’s paws were slightly to big for his frame and he kept tripping over his own feet.

 Thus started your day of puppy sitting two angels and two hunters.

 It was an adjustment. You tried to stay as normal as possible. But boy was it hard. Yet, the day continued on. Mostly you spent the time pouring over the lore books and news articles. There was still a hunt to plan, even if you were working with several hinderances.

 Sam kept trying to climb on the table to read the book with you, but he kept falling over his too big paws and eventually you had to lift him up. But then he kept falling asleep while trying to read. It was very enduring, but annoying as he’d fall asleep on the book.

 Dean kept trying to get back to his beer, but you had promptly taken it away and started to drink it yourself. It would go to waste otherwise. Dean gave a clearly unhappy growl and laid down, pouting up at you.

 Castiel curled up against Dean, quickly falling asleep and making little sounds in his sleep, nuzzling into Dean’s neck. Dean seemed a bit jumpy at this, but didn’t push Cas away. Maybe their normal self-conscious walls were lowered in dog form. It was sweet, really, but the different sounds they made were frustrating.

 Gabriel was the worst. He had jumped up on your lap at the first opportunity and kept tugging at your clothing and nipping at her hair. He was the epitome of distraction, which wasn’t really that surprising. Apparently trickster traits translated just fine into dog form. He’d whimper and yip, trying to draw her attention.

 Finally, you’d started petting him, and he’d settled down with a soft huff of pleasure. You kept your ministrations to his head area and down his back, thinking at least you’d keep some sense of propriety this way. Though in all honesty, this was still the most hands on you’d gotten with the angel. You wished he was human, because you’d always wanted to bury your hands in his soft honey brown hair. And other places…..

 But those were daydreams. Gabriel had never shown any interest in you other than then teasing you – but he did that with everyone. Okay, maybe he spent a bit more time hanging around the bunker when he knew you’d be there, but that was easy to write off. Or at least that’s what you’d told yourself. Because you couldn’t believe there was any way the angel was interested in you that way.

 The day wore on. Normally you’d have headed out for the hunt by now, but communication with the boys was limited to yes or no questions. Plus they would be less than useless on a hunt, unless you wanted them to bite the monster’s ankles. Actually, that would be hilarious to see. But you’d probably end up dead before it was all over. So that was a no go.

 Thus you were you stuck in the bunker for the night, waiting out Rowena’s spell.

 For dinner you cooked up some hamburg you’d found in the fridge and made fried burgers. Dean had been salivating at your feet, eyes glued to the stove top the whole time you’d been cooking. His tail had made a soft staccato rhythm as it thumped on the floor.

 It took a bit for you to decide how to serve the burgers to the boys. You eventually settled on paper plates, setting out a number of burgers. Now, to put them on the floor or on the table. You eyed Sam, because honestly Dean probably would eat on the floor even in human form. That man loved food. Didn’t really matter how it ended up in front of him…. Sam let out a very large sigh and moved his head toward the floor, near the water bowls you’d set out. He looked miserable. The others didn’t seem to be enjoying being dogs – except maybe Gabriel – but Sam seemed completely horrified.

 “Sorry guys.” You murmured, setting the plates on the floor. Dean leapt at the food, and Sam followed at a moderate pace, before finally taking a dainty bite. That didn’t last and eventually Sam dug into the food. You glanced over and found Gabriel and Castiel just watching the Winchesters. “You guys not going to eat?” Gabriel made a motion that looked like a shrug, if a dog could shrug, and then wandered over and took a bite of a burger. Cas just laid down and watched, staring longing at the other dogs. Probably at Dean, but it was harder to follow Cas’ gaze when he was a dog.

 The worst part of the whole experience had been when Sam had gone and pawed at the door. “You need to go out?” He whimpered, looking utterly defeated. “Bathroom?” You let out an amused sound. He glared back. Dean had walked over, looking equally as dejected. “Right then.” You went and opened the series of doors to the bunker, letting the boys out to do their, ahem, business. You staid near the door, trying really hard not to pay any attention to the Winchesters as they rushed into the bushes – as far from each other as possible.

 Gabe and Cas had plopped themselves down at your feet, letting the human dogs do what they needed. Gabriel rested his head on your feet, eyes closing. Cas had turned away, trying to give the Winchesters their privacy.

 That taken care of, the boys followed you back into the bunker. You’d put on a movie, some 90s romcom, a guilty pleasure of yours. The puppies had made unhappy sounds at your choice, but they couldn’t really do anything other than protest. Eventually they settled. Sam was on floor, snoring softly. Dean was curled up on the other end of the couch, eyes half lidded as he tried not to fall asleep. One of his paws was stretched over Cas, who on the floor just below him. Cas had drifted off to sleep slowly toward the middle of the movie, face upturned toward Dean.

 Gabriel was on your lap again, sprawled out. You wondered at his odd need to be touching you at every moment. You had absentmindedly started to scratch behind his ears, and he would make soft happy sounds.

 You couldn’t resist slipping out your phone and snapping a couple pictures of the boys. They were damn cute like this. Plus the pictures would make great blackmail later.

 Eventually you’d drifted off to sleep as well, sliding down and curling onto the couch around Gabriel. He’d let out a contented sigh, burying his face against your neck, soft exhale moving your hair slightly.

 Several hours later, you woke to find a black screen on the tv, the movie having ended long ago and the tv gone into power save mode. Gabriel let out a little yawn as you shifted, he blinked sleepily up at you. You put a finger to your lips, asking for silence. He gave a small nod and slid off the couch.

 The tv silently turned off at the press of a button, you pad from the room, leaving Dean, Cas, and Sam all passed out in the respective positions. Gabriel trotting along at your heels. He didn’t seem inclined to leave you alone for the night and followed you around. Before you picked a room you swung into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, then into the library where four piles of clothing littered the floor, pooling like flannel colored liquid.

 You eyed the piles, and eventually grabbed a random top from one of them. Gabriel gave a little growl and nosed into a different pile, nabbing a shirt with his teeth and dragging it to you. You raised a brow but returned the original shirt you’d grabbed and took the one he was trying to give to you. “I just need a shirt to sleep in, Gabe.” You muttered, eyeing the shirt in your hand. It was designer, and super soft. Not really made for sleeping in. But he huffed and nosed at your hand. Sighing you took the shirt.

 You headed toward the hallway full of unclaimed bedrooms. You slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door in Gabriel’s unhappy face. After taking care of your own bathroom needs you changed from your normal jeans and tank top into the shirt you’d absconded with. You were now only wearing the shirt and your underclothes. You’d thought of keeping the pants on, but the shirt hunt down to your thighs, giving you enough cover.

 When you finally opened the door, Gabriel was sitting there, staring up at you as if locking him out had been the worst crime in the world. But his expression seemed to morph and his expressive eyes turned soft and bright. You glanced down and wondered if it was because of the shirt. Hard to tell, but it doesn’t stop the slight blush from coloring your cheeks.

 You sigh, “Alright, I’m going to bed. You can come if you promise to behave.” Gabriel’s tail thumped in the cutest puppy tail wag you’d ever seen and he practical bounced down the hall after you. You wondered if this was a wise idea, but Gabriel looked absolutely harmless in this form.

 When you climbed into the bed, Gabriel tried to hop up, but failed spectacularly. His short legs making it hard for him to jump. He landed face first on the floor. He whined loudly and you smiled down at him.

 “Well?” You asked with a teasing voice. He whined again. You took a moment to roll your shoulders before you moved to get up. But before you were fully sitting, you felt the bed shift slightly and Gabriel gave a happy woof.

 You turned to find him on the end of the bed and let out a gasp of surprise. Where he’d looked like a normal dog before, there was now no mistaking him as an angelic dog. He had a set of golden wings sprouting from his back. They were large for his body, about three times his length per wing. You wondered if they were proportional, because they’d be huge when he was in human form.

 Saying they were gold was an understatement as they were shimming in different shades of copper, gold, honey, and colors you didn’t have words to describe. You had the sudden urge to reach out and touch them. Your hand was already reaching out before you pulled back suddenly, aware of the odd way Gabriel was now looking at you.

 You reached over and clicked the lamp off, throwing the room into darkness, and laid back down on your side, tucking one arm under the pillow. In the darkness you felt more than saw Gabriel move, shifting up the bed to curl against your side, tucking his head on the pillow next to you. His soft warm form made for a really nice cuddle buddy and you found your arm draping over him. In the dark your fingers found his wings. You were baffled as to why he hadn’t disappeared them back to where he usually kept them. Right now they were tucked against his back, folded tight.

 Although the first graze had been an accident and he had gone completely still at the contact, you hadn’t pulled your hand away. After a moment you felt him relax and let out a soft sigh of contentment. You began running your fingers through his wings, wondering how to describe their texture. Soft like silk, liquid like but not wet, and warm. It was a unique texture. One you were perfectly happy to continue to caress. He made another soft sound.

 “You know, like this, it’s hard to remember you’re a big scary archangel. Right now you’re like my personal pet angel” Sleep was creeping over you and you yawned, but in this moment in the dark you felt completely unhindered. Especially when Gabriel couldn’t reply. So it was now or never. “Your make a really cute dog but I miss your normal form. You’re handsome like that.” He made a huffing sound that was probably the dog equivalent of a laugh. “You know, I really like you. I’ve liked you for a long time now.” He shifted, his nose now touching your cheek. He breathed in deeply. “I know you probably don’t feel the same way, and I’m hoping tomorrow you’ll just pretend this didn’t happen and we’ll go back to normal. But for tonight I want you to know.” He let out a small whimper and nestled closer. “Goodnight Gabriel.” You drifted off, and just on the cusp of sleep you murmured: “I love you.”

 You didn’t notice the slightly panicked look the dog was throwing you, wrapped in your arms. If you had, you’d probably think it was from your confession. You’d have been wrong, or at least wrong about the reason.

 Morning came and the soft sound of your phone ringing made you blindly grope at the table next to you. You lifted the offending device to your ear and murmured, “Ello.” Your voice was low, sleep still clinging to your words.

 “Well good morning luv.”

 “Rowena?” You asked, confused.

 “Do you know another beautiful and charming witch that would be calling you?”

 “No.” You wondered if you really knew this one.  

 “Well, I thought I’d let you know the spell should be wearing off any time now. But I’m going to be gone a bit longer. Don’t really wanta be present when the wee Winchesters find themselves able to hold firearms again. So ta ta, luv. Good luck.” With that, the line went dead.

 You frowned, wondering how the witch had gotten your number in the first place. You sighed and tried to sit up, only to find yourself held down, something tight and warm was wrapped around your waist.

 And actually, now that you were awake enough to notice, the wall behind you was a whole lot warmer and more comfortable than a wall had any right to be. This was because it wasn’t a wall. You glanced over your shoulder and found yourself held firmly against a very human Gabriel. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was even. So unless he was acting - which he very well could be - he was still asleep.

 It made sense, given he’d fallen asleep against you. Though now instead of him being cuddled, you were the one tucked against him, his comparatively large form spooning yours. That was already freaky enough, and caused your whole face to flush, but there was also the fact he was naked. You could feel a lot of bits of him pressed against your bare legs and back – the shirt you’d worn to bed had apparently ridden up during the night and was now bunched up at your belly button. The flush travelled down your chest.

 Of course, there was also the whole bit where you confessed your long-held feelings last night. Oh Chuck. You wanted to die now. The ground could eat you up at any moment, preferable before Gabriel woke up. But that didn’t happen.

 You felt the angel exhale, a warm breath sliding over the back of your neck and sending warm shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes, hoping he’d think you were sleeping and just flee the room. That didn’t happen either.

 Instead he shifted and leaned up, one arm supporting his head as he gazed down at you. “Y/N?” His voice was soft, plaintive even. “I know you’re awake.” You opened your eyes and rolled ever so slightly, so you were looking up at him.

 “Hi.” You murmured, embarrassed at how tentative your own voice sounded.

 He grinned, “So, yesterday was interesting. You could say it went to the dogs.” He wagged one eyebrow at you, a grin forming on his lips. You let out a small laugh. He always seemed to make you laugh. Even in the most awkward of situations. Just like him to start a day with a joke. After a moment the laughter seemed to die down and his face turned serious. “So. We ought to talk.”

 “Um… No need.” You suddenly found yourself with an urgent need to be anywhere else. You started get up, were sitting with your legs off the bed, ready to run… but his hand clamped firmly on your hand, keeping you from fleeing.

 “Y/N.” His voice made you stop and turn to face him fully. There was something charming yet demanding in the way he said your name. He was now sitting up, the blankets draped alluringly around his lap, his chest bare. His hair was sticking out at odd angles, and he had this cute little befuddled expression on his face. He looked positively mouthwatering. You felt another blush coming on. He sighed, “About last night. What you said.”

 “Can’t we just pretend I didn’t?” You asked beseechingly.

 His eyes found yours then, a look of determination settling over him. “No.” Before you knew what was happening his mouth were on yours. His lips were soft and feather light. It was sweet kiss, tentative yet resolved. You let out a sigh and softened in his arms. At your acquiescence, Gabriel smiled against your lips and pulled away slightly. But he stayed so close his breath mingled with your own. His eyes were soft and warm, “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do that?”

 You shook your head, surprise waring with hope for dominant place in your heart.

 “A very long time.” He leaned in again and nipped your lip. “Seeing you last night about to put on Dean’s shirt almost drove me crazy with jealousy.” He confessed, “And then you actually put on mine, are still wearing it.” He paused to eye you appreciatively, “It’s very sexy.” He raised your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your palm. “You like my wings. And boy was it a big step to let you see those, touch them.” Your breath stuttered at this. You’d had no idea, though it made perfect sense. “It was by the way.” He gave a half laugh at the look on your face. “I’ll let you touch them all you want though.”

 “I’d like that.” Your voice was soft, barely audible. But he heard, and boy did your response light up his face.

 He leaned in and place a kiss on your nose. “And then you went and confessed.” Finally, his gaze found yours again and the look in his eyes was both disarming and terrifying, because it was filled with such hope and longing. “I didn’t think you liked me, not like that.” He murmured, “But you do.” He grinned again, “And Chuck knows I fell in love with you a long time ago.”

 Your breath caught in your throat, and words seemed to fail you.

 “So, Y/N.” He exhaled, “I really don’t want to forget what you said last night, because I’m really hoping you’ll say it again.”

 All of sudden the words were there, “I love you Gabriel.” They poured out of you, a smiled lighting up your face like sunshine.

 “I love you too.” He murmured, leaning in to kiss your lips again. You met him halfway.

 “About this pet thing” he breathed when you finally broke apart, “I’m so not wearing a collar. But I do like long walks and treats.” He said suggestively.

 You flushed and buried your face against his chest, “You’re so not funny.”

 He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “Really sugar, I don’t mind it as long as I’m yours.”