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muzansfangs · 8 hours

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Bloodstain.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; mention to Gin Ichimaru, Kaname Tosen, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, Nnoitra Gilga, Shuhei Hisagi, Orihime Inoue, Ichigo Kurosaki, Masaki Kurosaki, Uryu Ishida, Shuhei Hisagi, Isshin Kurosaki, Ulquiorra Cifer and Haschwalth Jugram;

Format: multi-chapters story;

Warnings for this chapter: nsfw, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, body worship, dom!Aizen, sub!reader, oral sex (reader!receiving), hair pulling, domestic life, fake dating, dirty fantasies, violence, gore, blood, bruises, death threats, mutual pining;

Plot: Taking care of Mrs. Watanabe’s daughter is not hard. Trying to appear like a couple in front of her bright eyes is a completely different story, though. The pent up frustration building up throughout the day eventually explodes. The desire to have you, to touch you again, to be one with you is driving Sosuke insane. You are too tempting for him and the way you take care of children, surely, is not helping.

N.B: I had to split the chapter in two parts. Some of the warnings belong to the second part!

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𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

A sunny morning and a six-year-old girl standing at your front door, curiously staring up at you with her leaf green eyes, indicated the beginning of a new day. The storm had passed on through the night and the warm rays of the sun kissing your face had gently waken you up from your slumber. Albeit you had agreed on sleeping next to Sosuke, by the time you had come back to your senses, he was not there. His side of the bed was empty, the sheets cool. Probably, he had waken up a couple of hours earlier, leaving you to a well-deserved rest. A noble gesture, considering who he was.

Eyes landing on your lap, you had noticed your nightgown was immaculate and still on. The bed was not messed up and the blanket was securely wrapped around your waist. He had been a man of honor, keeping his promise of not touching you more than it was strictly necessary. Sleeping in his arms was surely not something you should have done, but he was the only one who could help you to find rest whilst a storm raged outside. Thinking about it, in the past, beside your late mother, no one else had ever slept by your side, silently comforting you. No one had ever done it but him. It was ridiculous.

After taking a quick shower and changing into a flowery sundress, you had entered the kitchen only to find him sitting on the stool with a novel and a cup of tea in front of him. Sosuke had glanced up at you, not a word leaving his mouth, as you made yourself some coffee and begrudgingly muttered a ‘Good morning’.

He hummed as a response and you took it as a sign it was better to end off whatever small conversation you could muster with him. Not even ten minutes later, you had heard the doorbell ring and there you were now: locking eyes with a small version of the hellish Mrs. Watanabe. A prettier one, actually. The woman had not even bothered to show up at your door, she had simply left her daughter there and had made her getaway. For once, you were glad she had opted for being rude. Beholding the sight of her face early in the morning would have probably made you throw up your breakfast.

“Good morning, Aoi. — you greeted the girl with a mild voice, leaning slightly down to her eye level — You’ve grown up since the last time I’ve seen you”.

The girl blinked, holding her plushie to her chest “The paediatrician said I’m two inches taller than I was seven months ago”.

You smiled softly, stepping aside to let her enter your flat “Ah, I see! Let’s go inside, come on” you chimed, watching as the small girl trotted inside your house, familiar with the environment by now. She was better than her obnoxious mother and you really hoped she was going to be the opposite of that snake with a raven bob and high-necked dresses. It was impossible to predict how she would have turned out to be, but you had promised yourself to mold her into a sweet and loving girl in the time you spent with her.

Closing the door behind you two, you watched as Aoi stood in the middle of the living room, tilting her head to the side almost puzzled. It was almost like the little girl sensed something was off. Following her gaze, you realized she was looking directly at Sosuke, now occupying the entry to the kitchen with his lean frame. He seemed disinterested, hands into his pockets as he shifted his gaze from the child to you. For some reason, your mouth went dry. You had no idea of what was going on inside his head, but you hoped he wanted to keep on acting as a normal man and ‘your boyfriend’ in front of the witch’s offspring. Aoi was young, but old enough to innocently tell her mother the truth about your relationship with Sosuke.

Therefore, here you were, heart pumping hard in your chest and pleading eyes boring into Sosuke’s ones. It was almost like you were begging him not to let you down now. And, surprisingly, he did not.

“Who are you?” Aoi asked him, causing you to hold your breath in anticipation.

“I’m Sosuke. — he introduced himself, soothing tone caressing your skin — I’m Y/N’s boyfriend”.

You detested the lie he had come up with to justify his presence in your house, yet you were glad he was sticking up to the original plan right now. He was more collaborative than you had expected him to be. Sosuke was still himself, arrogant and sneaky. Despite that, he was apparently blending into the human society better than you had imagined.

You released a breath you had not realized you were holding at the sound of his words and he had not failed to notice how your shoulders had relaxed, hand now patting the small girl’s back as you motioned for her to go sit in the couch.

“Really? But I never saw you with her. Where were you?” Aoi piped out, panic washing over you again as the kid ignored you, fascinated by the new man in your living room.

Sosuke’s eyes flitted from the child to you, proud to be the one who had to somehow pull you out of that mess “I was out of town for work. I have decided to move in as soon as I have come back” he shortly said, Aoi’s eyes growing round as she listened to your former enemy in sheer interest.

“Oh! What do you do for a living?”.

Gosh, she was nothing like her mother, but that hag had taught her well how to be a noisy pest at times. More details and lies you two had to invent the harder it would have been not screwing up.

“He’s a cr—”you blurted out, but the rest of the words died on your tongue upon realizing you were going to label him as a criminal. Colors drained from your face, Sosuke’s eyebrow quirking up to come up with a remedy to your idiotic inclination to speak without thinking.

“Cricket player. I’m a cricket player”.

This was not what you expected him to say. Out of the vast list of works existing, he had really chosen a peculiar one. You palmed your forehead, turning around not to look at him. Aoi, on the other hand, gasped and enthusiastically asked more questions.

“O my God, so you have a horse?”.

Sosuke did not even hesitate to provide the curious human more informations “Oh, I do. I have recently bought this new specimen. It’s a female and incredibly stubborn. It’s hard taming her, but I’m confident I’ll eventually succeed” he cooed, the hair behind your neck standing whilst your brain registered his smooth talk and rationalized the true meaning behind them.

He was definitely walking on thin ice. Knowing you had to keep up a syrupy lovestory not to plant doubt in the kid’s mind, he had resolved to send you messages for you to read between the lines. How badly you wished you could just hit him with a frying pan and kick him out of your house. Instead, you had to turn around and display a sympathetic smile at him.

“Alright, enough about his job! Why don’t you sit there and tell me what you’d like to do today?” you chimed in, blocking Aoi’s view on the special threat without even sparing him a glance. You could feel his gaze on you, boring holes on your back as if he was firing a gun. He was right about a thing, summarizing his impression on you: you were hard to tame. Going down without a fight was not in your style. He could ask Haschwalth Jugram about that, but considering he was dead he could always ask Uryuu Ishida to make a detailed report about your battle.

Aoi blinked and hummed, the index of her small hand playing with her lower lip thoughtfully “The beach”.

“The beach?” you repeated, bending down to her eye level.

“Yep! There is going to be a competition of some kind! I wanna go, please, please! My mommy never lets me go to play in the sand” the small girl piped out, her pigtails swaying around her visage with every little stomp of her feet.

You were not hellbent to pander to the kid’s whims. You had been dealing with children on your own after Masaki’s tragic death. Ichigo was not really a capricious boy, the even younger girls neither. However, you had learned how to moderate your inclination to give them the world after their mother’s loss. Clearly unhappy and lost, they needed someone to guide them and humour them. This is what you did, in the end. Aoi was not spoiled. She had nothing, besides a very strict and a non-affective mother looking after her. A little treat could not do any harm.

The situation was risky, though. Could you trust Sosuke enough to let him tag along to a most likely overcrowded beach? With every passing second, your temptation to go back to the Soul Society and evirate Shunsui increased notably. He had ruined your life.

You clicked your tongue, shooting a side-eye to an impassive Sosuke towering over you from behind. He did not mumble a single word, arms folding against his chest as you stood back up and hurried him out of the living room. Aoi watched you two with her big doe eyes, hoping you were going to make her small wish come true. Your heart clenched in your chest, gifting her a small and genuine compassionate smile, before you cornered Sosuke in the dark corridor.

“What are your intentions? What the Hell do you think you are doing?” you asked him, jabbing a finger at his sternum to emphasize your question.

“I am not doing any harm, detective”.

“You know very well what I am talking about. A cricket player, a stubborn horse, the hard taming deal. — you reminded him, gaze hardening just by watching him wearing a placid smile you had grown so familiar with — Quit it”.

Sosuke grinned “Oh, really? Whose fault is it? Were you not about to address me as a criminal? You never lose the habit of acting on your impulses. You truly are a feisty animal, after all” he taunted you, hand reaching for his eye-patch in the pocket of his trousers to latch it behind his nape and cover his eye.

You gawked, balling your hands into fists down your sides, nails digging onto your palms to resist the urge to slash his handsome face in the presence of an innocent child waiting for you to make her day.

“That’s what you are. — you hissed through gritted teeth, deciding to ignore the fact he was right to some extent — Now, before going back to Aoi, I will give you a small advice: don’t you dare to ruin her day out”.

Sosuke paused, glancing at the child playing with her plushie back in the living room. She was good-mannered, innocent. Not a complete nuisance “You are overprotective of that kid”.

“Her mother is a bitch. I have never seen her hug her daughter, or show affection to her. If I can somehow give Aoi a break, I am more than willing to do so” you explained, following his gaze with a softer tone accompanying your actions.

“You have a thing for misfits”.

You turned to look at him, furrowing your brows perplexedly “Excuse me?”.

“First, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra. Then Shuhei. This kid here and now me. You can’t blame me for thinking you have a tendency of taking care of broken hearts and outcasts” he said, not even bothering to look back at you, before sauntering back to Aoi to announce you were indeed going spend the day on the beach.

When Gin harshly tugged at the shackles binding your hands together, you stumbled forwards. It was a measure you had never been subjected to. Aizen had told you it was temporary, just to send a message to the ravenous army of Espada craving your head, or wanting to put their hands on you to reduce you to the brand new plaything of Las Noches.

He had sent Gin Ichimaru to pick you up from your quarters. You had never trusted that man, that sly, creepy grin of his sent frissons over your skin every time you bumped into him. He had almost killed you back in the Soul Society. If you had not died back then, it was for shameless luck and Aizen’s healing spells. You often wondered what would have happened to you, if the Captain crossing roads with you was not him. He had this different way of dealing with you, this certain respect you refused to believe was genuine, given his betrayal. Looking back at it, you were glad he had never actually tried to kill you. It was irrational, but you had a feeling he felt some connection with you. Perhaps, you were just being delusional.

“You are hurting me” you hissed, glaring up at the willowy man guiding you down the monotonous, sterile corridors of Las Noches. He was conducting you to Aizen and the former Captain of the Ninth Division to join the incoming meeting as a guest.

For some reason, Aizen had requested your presence. He had refused to abide to your plea to let you stay in your bedroom. He wanted you there and you surely did not wish for his wrath to rain down on you upon defying him further.

“Oh, I apologize! Aizen-sama will not be pleased to know I have bruised those wrists of yours, I guess. — he sang, his mawkish tone earning a snort from you — Shall I feel a sting of remorse for what I have done? I mean, hurting a sweet girl you don’t even know could be convicted as pretty mean by the mankind. Am I right?”.

You halted, realizing he had stopped walking as well. The ominous clink of the chains dragging along the polished floor underneath your feet contributed to set off a chilling atmosphere around you two. You could not see Gin’s face, but you could tell he was probably reminiscing something. There was a double-meaning he was masterly concealing behind his typical brisk monologues. You had a feeling there was a deeper intent and message behind those words spoken in a desolate area of the castle.

“Some men out there hurt people and don’t even bother apologizing. — he stated, whipping his head towards you — They kill, mutilate, do pretty gory actions to lonely, lovely girls. But you know, Kurosaki, today I’m in a good mood and, to be honest, I’m not quite as bad as you may think I am” he stated, before walking over to you and grasping your wrists to inspect the damage.

You straightened your back, allowing him to chant what you had learned was a healing kidō to mend the bruised skin. Now that he had stopped rambling, you wanted to hear more from him.

“What are you hinting to?” you boldly asked him.

Gin smirked “I was just philosophizing”.

“Did someone hurt—”.

“Thin ice, Y/N-chan. — he suddenly hushed you, his fox eyes opening even so slightly to pin you on the spot — You are lucky to have someone watching your back. To be honest, I would like to hurt you, but I can’t do it. Now, don’t take me for someone who would be devoured by regrets for having hurt a woman. The only regret I have is not having finished you back in the Soul Society”.

Your blood ran cold and you expected his blade to pierce your heart, but the moment he turned around and tugged at the chains again you felt glad this torture was over. The sooner you were in the company of your worst enemy, the better. Once again, you found yourself wishing he was there with you, because you were absolutely certain he would have never hurt you. This man here, however, was on another level. He wanted you dead and, despite some Arrancars and Espada had told you the same, you could feel all of his hatred blanketing you like snow covering the ground. There was a thirst for vendetta in his actions that made you freeze on the spot.

You were so vulnerable without your blade. You wondered when you would have been able to snatch it away. It had been two weeks without training. You could sense your sword calling for you, but you could not just enter Aizen’s quarters so easily. You, the older Kurosaki, the independent girl who had never relied on anyone, were hoping day and night for your brother to save you. But he never came. He was not there and, regrettably, you wished you had not so selflessly swapped places with Orihime Inoue. Lost into self-deprecation, you had not realized Gin had stopped walking until you ended up bumping onto his back.

Sighing, you distanced yourself from him, only to meet a pair of chestnut brown eyes already transfixed on you. Aizen Sosuke stood right before you, next to him Kaname Tosen. Chills ran down your spine, when Gin roughly pushed you towards him, but this time you did not trip, much to his dismay. Delicately, Lord Aizen grasped your chin, inspecting your face. He always did that, checking on you as if he really cared about your health. Usually, you knew better than protesting, but you already knew what was going to happen this time.

Two days without seeing him and you had a small purple bruise on your cheekbone. Your stomach churned, his eyes turning as cold as ice.

“Who?”.

“It’s not even visible. It doesn’t hurt” you replied, turning your head to the side to slip away from his fingers. Such a pity he roughly grasped your jaw harder, tipping your head up to force an unbearable eye-contact. There was no hiding from him, especially when the matter concerned your safety.

“Someone has dared to hurt my guest in my castle. I’m legitimized to demand you to give me a name” he stated calmly but firmly, the air around you shifting to gloomy and asphyxiating. Tosen and Gin tensed, awaiting for you to quench Aizen’s thirst for blood. Yet, you failed their expectations.

You were sick and tired of gory battles and violence. Nnoitra deserved pain and sufferings. However, this was not Aizen’s battle. This was yours. You had promised yourself to make that bastard pay for his arrogance and perverse sense of superiority with your own blade. But while Aizen would have taken his life, you aspired to simply put him back into place.

You shook your head “It doesn’t concern you”.

The man before you arched a dark eyebrow, his grip on your jaw loosening as he rested his hand on the top of your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze “Don’t play mind games with me. I perfectly know why you’re hesitating to reveal the culprit’s name. You just fear to witness to what I may do to him”.

His words resonated in your head as you pressed your lips together and scoffed, forcing yourself not to add more details, to confirm his inklings. The moment he was about to press you again with more questions, an Arrancar materialiazed a few feet away from you two. Eyes downcast, knees planted onto the ground, the Hollow belonged to the newly promoted lower ranks. His aura was far from threatening and you could actually sense distinct waves of terror radiating from him.

Aizen shot him a cold glance “Speak” his baritone voice commanded, just as he took a hold of the chains binding your hands together to nudge towards the exit.

“The Espada are assembled and waiting for you, Lord Aizen” the Arrancar meekly announced, but the sound propagating in the corridor as soon as he pronounced his last word made you zone out. What was that?

Bones breaking, organs exploding, maybe. All you knew, as Aizen walked you to the spacious living room, was that something viscous and crimson red colored was splattered over the wall and on your white, pristine dress. Blood, it was blood you could not wipe away from your clothes and face as he urged you away from the crime scene. You could feel it drip down the column of your throat, cling onto the luxurious fabric of the uniform as your eyes landed on the Espada inspecting you in sheer curiosity.

You kept your head high, spacing out, completely ignoring Aizen rambling about his plot schemes. What had just happened was nothing but him showing you what kind of treatment would have fallen upon the Espada who had harmed you.

To catch your attention was Aizen’s spiritual pressure bending Grimmjow’s knees, squashing him onto the ground. People snickered, amused by the scene as the man flexed his power on him. No, no, you could not allow any more violence, you could not withstand it.

Dashing before Grimmjow, shielding him from Aizen’s sight, you winced as the chain yanked you back towards your captor. Your skin burned where the metal unforgivingly bit your flesh, but you did the only thing that could have somehow granted Grimmjow enough strength to stand back up and breathe again: you unleashed your own spiritual pressure, letting it clash against Aizen’s one. There was no competition, but you really gave it your best shot. Blood dribbled from your nose, as you glanced at Grimmjow from above your shoulder to check on him.

“W-What the fuck are you doing? You idiot, move!” the Sexta Espada rasped out, panting, as he tried to push himself up. It was working, at least.

Murmurs echoed around you, comments on how foolish you were and about how they would have loved to watch you die for your impertinence. Instead, Aizen diminished the intensity of his spiritual pressure and you did the same. Your knees failed you, your eyes meeting his, before you slumped onto the cold floor and your vision darkened.

The horde of screaming, rowdy kids trotting around you on the beach made you almost regret having asked Aoi what she would have loved to do to spend the day. There were parents chatting in small groups, teenagers playing beach-volley and a few stalls selling toys and handmade floral decorations. The temperature was nice, the gentle breeze caressing your skin making the summer heat bearable. Holding her hand, you let the child guide you to explore the area, her cheerful laughter warming you up from the inside.

When she stopped by a giant yellow sign, pointing her finger at it, you blinked: ‘Wreaths competition! Do your best to win a limited edition Stitch’.

“I want to win the plushie! Please, please! Can you help me out?” Aoi begged you, turning towards you with such a puppy face you struggled to keep your composure. You had to killed the time somehow.

You were screwed. But you reminded yourself why you were doing it.

“Okay, okay. — you agreed, settling your hand over her head — Listen, while I attempt to create good garlands and crowns, why don’t you go play with Sosuke and collect some seashells? Maybe we can make some pretty necklaces too, later” you suggested, before shooting a subtle glance at Sosuke that implied he had to accompany her and protect the kid with his own life. It was a test, to be fair. You wanted him to show you that you could trust him a little bit.

He arched his eyebrow up, upper lip twitching imperceptibly but not escaping your hawk-eyes “Have fun with the flowers” he falsely muttered, before gesturing for Aoi to follow him down to the shore.

The sight of him walking side by side with the small kid made you faintly smile. It was the furthest thing from your imagination. Aizen Sosuke dealing with kids, babysitting them, controlling his hunger for power and cold indifference for the sake of a little child almost sounded like the beginning of a chilling horror story. However, you were willing to test the waters. Maybe, he was not the best choice to make, when it came down to pick a man to watch over kids, but he was surprisingly trying his best.

Down the shore, while Sosuke kept his eyes transfixed on the Ocean, Aoi began to choose the best seashells she came across in her exploration. Apparently, she had taken the task seriously. The special threat was not much bothered by her presence, as long as she just did her job silently. As he had already assessed back home, this human was well-behaved. Suddenly, however, she tugged at his trousers to draw his attention. Peace did not last long.

Sosuke averted his eyes from the crystal water and, arms folded over his chest, he looked down at the little girl “What’s the matter?” he asked, not bothering to adjust his tone of voice to a softer one.

“Why didn’t you kiss her when you walked away? You’re not very affectionate with her” Aoi piped out, making him stiffen up.

Oh, now the situation was getting interesting. The human child was questioning his relationship with Y/N. He knew that he had to be careful about what he said, especially since it would have been only fair to confront her before adding more details about their ‘love-story’. But Sosuke could perfectly handle the situation. He was not a fool and manipulating people had somehow been the key for his success. Playing a child was even easier, given their simple mind.

He cleared his throat, a small smile curving his lips “You see, she’s a little upset with me right now. I’m more than sure she wouldn’t appreciate my kisses at the moment” he lied, only for Aoi to shake her head and toss away in the water a chipped scallop.

“All girls like kisses! If you apologize and give her one she is going to forgive you” she mumbled, only for Sosuke to widen his eyes at her acute observation. Ah, she was not a fool.

“This is what happens in fairytales, though”.

“But she’s a princess! Look at her, she’s so beautiful!” Aoi insisted, tapping on his knee again and this time he could only follow her gaze.

When his eyes landed on you, he was pleasantly welcomed with a boculic and tender vision he had never even dreamed of in his whole life. Sitting with a group of women and their children, you were smiling softly as you held a baby in your arms. Your eyes shimmered in a light he had never seen before, as you playfully showed a pretty wreath to the newborn in your arms, soon settling it on the top of your head. You were the incarnation of kindness and to him you had always been some sort of a mindblowing enigma he could not solve. You looked so happy, so beautiful like that.

His mind wandered for a few moments, venturing in thoughts he had never keened to contemplate in his life. A child. You. A peaceful life. Your hips had always been his addiction. Even when he had finally had you pinned underneath him, Sosuke could not help himself but squeeze on them, caressing your hipbones with hunger.

A man who controlled himself like he did was a slave to such a primal and basic need. Why did he want to breed you? He would have loved watching his seed leak out of you again, just like in the Soul Society. Gosh, he could have done it again and again, fucking you until could not feel your legs anymore and your tummy hurt. He could give you the world, he would have kissed you from your lips to the valley between your legs, if only you let him in. How could you not understand it?

His cock twitched his pants and he gritted his teeth, his eyes straying away from you as he caught a glimpse of the baby tugging at the neckline of your dress.

He had to have you. Again. That night.

Still, the real problem was the Hōgyoku. It was true he had studied the abilities of that source of power and energy, however it was mostly uncovered what else it could do. Sosuke was almost certain the Hōgyoku had made him infertile, but what if, among the wills of its owner, that small device could also bend its powers to grant his seed to fertilize an egg cell?

When he heard you calling out their names, Sosuke ran his fingers through his hair and patted on Aoi’s head absent-mindedly “Let’s go, she’s looking for us”.

The small kid beamed and ran up to you, leaving Sosuke behind with his thoughts and the unfamiliar feeling of coveting the same things those mortal men had: a family. He was not husband material, he was a villainous man with too much ego to settle down and put his aspirations aside. Maybe, though, now he could have it. It was just a matter of when and with who. He never understood love, that feeling leaving people besotted with another being was foreign to him. Despite that, when he saw you hand the plushie to Aoi and pick her up to spin her around mid-air he was absolutely certain that, if he were to choose a woman to share his heart and life with, he would have always chosen you.

When you put Aoi down, she giggled and squeezed the giant Stitch to her chest, relinquishing the feeling of finally having what she had craved so badly. You felt a sense of fulfillment in seeing her happy. You had watched her pass by your door with a pouty face too many times not to make her day with such a small gesture. Glancing at Sosuke, you noted he was holding some seashells in his hands and a breathless chuckle left your lips. A melody he had yearned to hear for too long to forget how it sounded and how his heart had always picked up its rate whenever you laughed in his proximity.

“What’s so funny?” he inquired, before grasping your hand and putting the colorful shells onto your palm.

You shrugged and scrunched up your nose “Nothing. It’s just that… I didn’t expect you to carry the seashells for her. That’s nice”.

He rolled his eyes “She sprinted towards you as soon as you called for us. Also, I knew you would have not been pleased if I lost them”.

You hummed and nodded your head, before picking up Aoi and sighing. The flower wreath over your head shifted, almost slipping off and he was quick to catch it, positioning it back in its original place. You stilled, eyes widening even so slightly before he lowered his face enough to let your noses brush together and this small action stole your breath from your lungs.

“You look beautiful like that” he commented, but before you could even thank him for the unexpected compliment, your phone rang and the jig was up. You did not catch the gleam of disappointment darkening his eyes as you stepped away to answer your call. Still, you were genuinely surprised to find yourself missing a kiss that never lingered on your lips.

You spent most of the day at the beach. You had to admit something had changed between you and Sosuke. You began to impoperly see him as reliable, a mistake you could not forgive yourself for. You knew how foolish of you it was to esteem him as a good man. He was a murderer, a manipulator, a traitor, the devil himself. To keep him out of your head, you had resorted to busy yourself in teaching Aoi how to thread the flowers together, or how to do cartwheels. But when it came down to eat lunch together, you were forced sit on a bench right next to Sosuke. The couples passing-by with their kids attempted more than once to strike up cordial conversations with you two, while their children played around with Aoi. It was challenging keeping up that farse. Sosuke, on the other hand, was perfectly fine with shooting you adoring glances. Arm looped around your shoulders to pull you closer to him, small adventures invented about your encounters to feed the interlocutors an epic love story, you were hating him for depicting a good, healthy relationship you knew he could never establish with you.

With you! You felt so pathetic for even considering the possibility of dating him for real. In other life, in other universe though, if he was not a monster, you could have allowed yourself to fall irrevocably in love with him.

The last blow that made your stomach somersault was what Aoi told you, by the front door of her house when you accompanied her back home “I wish you two were my parents”.

That innocent way of declaring how loved she had felt with you two affected you more than you liked to admit. You had a quick dinner with Sosuke, barely talking to him, before you decided once again to isolate yourself in the privacy of your bedroom. Clutching the sheets in your hands, you laid face first onto your pillow and commiserated yourself for your stupid sensitivity. Weren’t those signs you just wanted someone to love you so desperately it hurt? You wanted to be loved and to love freely. But your life was too complicated for indulging into the delights of a couple-life.

A knock on your door brought you back to reality and you huffed in contempt, before rolling off of the bed and opening the door. Sosuke stood there, still fully dressed, beside the fact he had taken off his eye-patch and had undone some buttons of his white shirt. Mother nature had made him too handsome not to admire.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, but this belongs to you. — he stated, handing you the bag of the gift he had bought you yesterday — Given the fact I know no one else who could wear it besides you, I’m afraid you have no other option but to accept it” he observed, only for you to sigh and grasp the bag.

“Come in” you said, turning your back at him and allowing your villainous roommate to enter your bedroom. Years ago, it would have sounded reckless to let him inside such a private part of your house. But did it make some sense, considering you had practically slept in his arms yesterday night?

You sat on the edge of the bed, silence swallowing you two for some seconds, before you looked up at him and finally decided to show appreciation for the day “Oh, and… Thank you, I guess”.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just thought this would have complimented your skin”.

You shook your head “I’m not talking about the gift. Thank you for having been a decent person at beach. — you corrected him, nails peeling away the sticker keeping the bag closed — And for the flattery remark you reserved to me out of the blue” you added coyly.

He smirked, taking a seat next to you without asking for your permisioon “It may sound so out of character coming from me, but I genuinely meant it. You are beautiful” he insisted, stretching his legs before him.

Good thing you had occupied yourself with pulling the fine piece of cloth out of the bag. Your heart was skipping beats repeatedly, almost leaving you out of breath. You scrutinized the red silky nightgown in awe, letting the smooth fabric slip through your fingers to fully appreciate its consistency. To add class to the item was the generous neckline bordered with lace. He definitely had good taste, but you were damn sure he had probably purchased such a scandalous nightgown to mess with your head.

You cleared your throat, folding it with care before putting it back into the bag and settling it down at your feet “It’s really beautiful. — you stated then, uncapable of turning your attention to him — But don’t you think it’s somewhat daring?”.

“Are you offended?”.

“What? No! — you fretted, cheeks warming up — It’s just that … I don’t know if I’m confident enough to wear it” you admitted, shrugging as you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. Well, this was definitely not a conversation you expected to have with him, or with a man in general. It was not like you had zero self-esteem. Honestly, it was more due to the fact that with your chaotic life, you did not have a lot of occasions to dress up. Let alone wearing something so revealing in bed for someone.

Sosuke let your words sink in for a few moments, before shifting on his seat to face you properly “Show me”.

“What?” you quipped, goggling at him as if he had just shouted a blasphemy in the middle of the road.

“I said ‘show me’. — he encouraged you again, gesturing at the bag at your feet nonchalantly — If you don’t feel comfortable in it, I’ll buy you a new one”.

You chuckled, your reaction earning a baffled glance from him. He was trying to be kind, probably. Still, it sounded hilarious. Also, why did he want to buy you stuff? You could provide for yourself on your own. He stared at you, silently demanding an explanation to your behavior while you stood up, grasping the fine piece of cloth “Sorry, I … I just don’t see why it seems to be so important to you”.

“Because that’s a gift. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of it”.

“Since when you care about my feelings?”.

He was not liking where the conversation was going “Just go to change. Isshin did an horrific job with you”.

You rolled your eyes at him, complying to his request and going to the bathroom to try the damn nightgown…Only to realize you actually adored it. The color really complimented your skin. The fabric embraced your curves perfectly, smoothly cascading down your valleys, barely reaching your upper thighs. You felt your body on fire, the idea of presenting yourself to him like that made you press your legs together in a combination of embarrassment and arousal. Why, though? Did you have something to be ashamed of? Absolutely not. He had seen you fully naked before and you were dressed now. Poorly, but you were still not indecent.

Stalling would have only prolonged the agony. Swallowing your pride, you made your way back to him. His eyes, strangely warm tonight, immediately pinned you on the spot. Basking in your beauty, Sosuke did not move from where he was sitting. He watched you intently, impassible face to let you stew on your own juice. To break the ice was your voice.

“To be honest, I have never forseen myself giving you a défilé. — you stated, eyes downcast — Somehow, it’s even worse than… Uhm, nevermind, forget it”.

“It’s even worse than sex. Is that what you wanted to say?”.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, the sensation familiar to you after all the times he had read you like an open book. It was frustrating dealing with the only person in the entire universe you could not block out of your head. Nodding your head, you shrugged in defeat and turned on your heels to leave the room. Sosuke, on the other hand, was not done talking. Not yet.

“You look even better than I had imagined, you know?”.

“Oh, please, I don’t need a pep talk” you argued.

“Indeed. — Sosuke agreed, raising from his seat to amble towards you — I believe you just need to be reminded you are a woman. You need someone who boosts your ego for the power you possess over men” he reasoned, hitting a nerve you had been trying to ignore for too long. How long had it been since someone had really made you feel special, appreciate you in all your glory? Searching for the name of an individual who had empowered you to that length, well, you found no one.

And, sadly, before that little adventure with Sosuke, your last intercourse was with Shuhei. Something happened in the heat of the moment, not really unexpected, but there were not the strong feelings of the attentions you craved. He liked you, it was plain and simply. But what had he done to show you how much he cared, if after an argument he had disappeared without saying goodbye? Adding salt to the wound was not helping. Especially since all of that thinking was leading you to reminisce about Sosuke.

God, he really knew how to fuck you and blow your mind.

“I see you still have fun in playing the role of the psychologist” you sarcastically remarked, indulging him into whatever he was keening to achieve. Frissons skimmed over your naked shoudlers for the inklings you were getting. Once again, you were diving into dangerous situations.

“Tell me, when is the last time a man made you feel like you were on top of the world? Has someone ever worshipped your body?” he inquired, ignoring your sass and letting his eyes travel shamelessly down your body.

Gluttonous like a vulture, attentive like a golden eagle, Sosuke had cornered you without giving you enough time to realize it. You were always screwed, when it came down to him.

“You must be out of your mind, if you merely think I’m going to discuss my sex life with you. — you dissuaded him from illuding himself he could ask you more about your relationship, your feelings and private matters — Now, unless you’re a masochist who wishes to be kicked out of my bedroom, I’d like to get some sleep. Alone” you punctuated, indicating the door at your back with a tight smile on your lips.

You wished you had been more convincing, you wished he was not that close to you and that you had not given much importance to what you had felt with him that night and morning. You wished you had take another step back, that the moment he had trapped you between his body and the wall you had protested.

When you thought you could resist him, showing him you were not affected by his presence and avanaces, he knelt in front of you. His hands glided over your legs, cupping your calves, whilst he captured your gaze with his deep, almond eyes “Your words and gestures tells you don’t even know what I’m talking about and it’s a shame. — he said, fingers now tickling the back of your thighs while he let his nose graze against your lower belly tentatively — I won’t beat about the bush, I want to show you what it feels like to be lavished. Push me away now, Y/N, or I’ll begin” he lowly warned you, but your fingers threading through his soft strands did not yank his head back to yell at his face.

You gaped, uncapable to refuse him, to bring yourself to think straight. That passion you had felt with him, that level of pleasure had been obnubilating your mind for too long. You wanted it, you wanted him again. Wrong at the eyes of so many people, you instead began to see it as a mere stress relief. Even if you knew it was so much more. Why not giving in, then? Why not perseverating? Nobody had to know.

“Sosuke, if this shit leaves your mouth and becomes a dinner conversation, I’ll make you choke on your dick” you threatened him, legs finally spreading to give him more access to your clothed pussy.

He grinned, fingers hooking underneath the elastic band of your panties, tugging the item down until you kicked it off in a hurry “And giving up on the chance to fuck you to oblivion after arguments, or in stormy, depressing nights? You know me better than that” he crooned, hand lifting your right thigh to settle it on top of his shoulder, the access to your tight hole clenching around nothing much easier now.

You never had a man kneeling before you to give you oral. To think the closest thing to a God was currently lapping at your core in such a degrading position was electrifying. Yet, you were far from deeming yourself in a superior position. He still had the upper hand.

He hummed, head slipping underneath the skirt of your nightgown, as his tongue ran flatly over your velvet folds, fingertips digging onto the plush of your thighs. His warm tongue seeked your clitoris and twirled around it, testing your reaction. You felt ashamed of how loudly you moaned, of how you were grateful he was keeping you balanced above him, otherwise you would have surely tumbled down onto the floor. Mostly, though, you felt embarrassed by the spasmodic buckling of your hips, by the way your hands were pushing his head closer to your need in search for more friction. He had turned you into a madwoman.

He groaned and you straightened your back, flattenening it against the wall “I’m sorry!” you quipped, chest raising and falling erratic, stupidly thinking you had somehow hurt him.

You could not see his face, hidden by the gown, but you heard him rasp out an answer against your pubes “If you apologize again, I’ll stop”.

And no, you did not want him to stop, not when his fingers spread your puffy lips and he tickled the sensitive area around your opening with the tip of his tongue. You were going insane, body on fire under his ministrations, under the smoldering orgasm building up in your lower belly. You tried and failed to remember one time another man had pleasured you this much.

“Sosuke!” you cried out, mouth falling ajar as you lolled your head back against the wall.

He did not stop his onslaught on you. His voracious mouth licked, sucked, penetrated into you like that of a starving man. Your thighs were quivering, shaking violently, while you held him close to you and, dear God, if he was leading you to crave more than just that.

Only when you were on the edge of reaching your climax, he stopped. His breath was ragged, his face glistening in your arousal, while he stood back up and encircled you waist with his arms. You were panting, sweaty, whimpering in need as you kissed him passionately, not even thinking twice. Tongues danced together, while he held you close and you tasted yourself in his mouth.

He grinned against your lips “Do you feel that? That’s your taste. Men should bathe into it and feel like they’re reborn” he whispered, while you both stumbled towards your bed, falling onto it tangled in one.

And it was in that moment that something into you cracked. Aizen Sosuke could give you the world and that very night you were in for it.

AUTHOR NOTE.

My dear readers, I had said I didn’t want to split the chapter but I had to. Editing is as stressful as writing, trust me, and I could not do more than that. I will include the rest of the smut part in the next chapter! Please, let me know what you think about this!

Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Luce

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1d1195 · 7 hours

Text

Most - Extra I

Read Most here | ~2k words

From me: It's probably too early for an extra for them, but I seriously couldn't resist. Takes place sometime within the first couple of months of the last part.

Warnings: this is going to be disgustingly sweet. Nothing to report except you'll have a toothache after reading.

Summary: Harry gets to rush home from work now to the love of his life. Everything about her makes his heart ache.

Harry was exhausted. Now that she was home, he didn’t have a reason to avoid going home to be by himself. There was no need to feel suffocated by loneliness because he wasn’t alone anymore. So, he changed his work schedule quite a bit. He wasn’t single anymore (even if he never felt that way anyway). But he didn’t do overtime much anymore. He didn’t pick up shifts that others didn’t want or were unable to work due to their own families. The station was never left stranded regardless, but he wasn’t the go-to ask anymore. He felt a little bad and still occasionally took a short overtime shift, but not nearly as many as the insane hours he was prior to her coming home. He didn’t take his time leaving either the way he used to. There was no need anymore. Fortunately, all his coworkers were completely understanding.

48 hours on and 96 hours off. A normal shift for a firefighter. It was so much better than the 18-hour days he was doing before she returned. He could see her for days at a time. He pampered her, snuggled her, and kissed every inch of her skin like she might disappear again even though he really didn’t believe that anymore the way he did when she first came home.

But the end of this two-day shift left him exhausted. It was exceptionally busy. Thankfully, no one was hurt. Only one small house fire contained to the kitchen and the toaster that caught the curtain in the window at fault. There was lots of paperwork that needed filing and reporting for a hundred different things. There was more training. Another visit to the elementary school and a safety outreach program in partnership with other community groups.

Harry grabbed his bag from the back seat, locked his door, and headed inside. Each step felt heavier than the next. He couldn’t wait to get into bed beside her and snuggle her. With the way her work schedule was, she had arrived home after him the last few times. But today, her car was parked next to his. It made his heart flutter. Happy that he had everything he ever wanted. The love of his life, a cute house, and everything. But Harry could have done without the house, the car, the career he loved.

She was there.

That was everything.

It was late. Almost eleven. The outside air was chilly. The moon glowed so bright it almost felt like a stage light on his arrival home. There was the smell of a campfire somewhere a few streets over. All concluding to a perfect fall night. He almost wanted to wake her just so she could come outside and smell it because it reminded him of a bonfire they went to when they first started dating. They made out under a tree and giggled about all their future while their friends drank around the fire.

Quietly, he unlocked the door. He was hoping she wouldn’t wake from his arrival. Her classes alongside work had been kicking her butt. Maybe worse than a 48-hour shift not that she would ever let him think that. No, she doted on him and made sure he was doing okay regardless of how tired she was. It made his heart ache with how much she adored him, but Harry was lucky to have five days off between his shifts. She was lucky if she had one.

Kicking his shoes off right inside the door he was overwhelmed with how good it smelled. A combo of whatever she cooked for dinner and the now permanent scent of her hair care wafting through the house from bathroom all the way to the living room. If this had been even a year ago, Harry never would have thought it was possible to have it all. But the smell of her shampoo was enough to make his eyes watery. Especially after a long couple of days.

He dropped his bag by his shoes, locked the front door, and turned to make his way to the kitchen to put his Tupperware in the dishwasher. He wished he looked sooner because the sight made his heart skim a beat. A strangled, quiet groan came from his throat, as he tried to stop it so he would wake her. Wouldn’t start sobbing with how much he adored her.

Harry rushed to the living room sofa, dropped to his knees beside it. One hand fell to her hip and danced up the curve of her waist, resting on her ribcage as her breath moved her body up and down at gentle intervals. “Kitten,” he murmured.

She didn’t stir. Harry placed a hand over her ear along the side of her head. Softly he rubbed his fingertips into her head. “Baby,” he tried again. Seeing her so peacefully on his couch made him possessive and happy. He wanted nothing more than to watch her like she was his favorite show. All she had to do was sleep; it was enough entertainment for him. They dreamed of things like this and now it was here, and he felt so much love it made him want to cry.

She grunted softly. “Hi baby,” she hummed reaching out and grabbed at his T-shirt. She pulled at the chest, right below the collar of it and tugged him toward her more. Then, she slid her hand over his face. “You okay?”

“M’fine. Why aren’t y’in bed, kitten?"

"S'cold,” she mumbled, yawned.

“So, turn the heat up, baby,” a smile was in his voice as he shook his head at her.

She shook her head back in response. Slowly, she sat up. Her arms came and wrapped around his shoulders and tucked her face into his neck. “Not that kinda cold,” she mumbled.

Fuck, he loved her so much. She was so cute it made him want to scream. She was purposefully on the sofa. Waiting for him.

He swallowed the emotion that was blocking his throat, and he exhaled slowly to calm himself before he had to explain to her why he was crying like a baby because of her and how much he loved her.

He was royally fucked when she walked down the aisle. He would blubber. There wouldn’t be enough tissues in the world to dry his eyes.

“Baby, y'can't sleep on the couch every time m'at work."

"Watch me."

God. His arms tightened around her waist, and he kissed the side of her head as he rocked her gently. He couldn't be close enough to her. "S'bad for your neck t’be on the couch, kitten.”

"It's bad for my heart to be without you in bed."

Harry was going to sob because of her. He squeezed her again. He wasn’t arguing. He just wanted her to be comfy and cozy. Gently, he gripped just behind her knees and pulled her legs around his hips and swiftly stood all in the same movement. He kissed her temple. “Are you hungry?” She asked sleepily. “I’ll make you a plate,” but she nuzzled into his neck, and he almost wanted to say yes, just so he could see how she would manage while half asleep. He thought it was adorable. She was adorable.

“No, kitten. M’fine.”

She frowned. “Did you eat?”

“I ate baby. Don’t worry,” he promised.

“You don’t have to carry me. I’m heavy and you worked so long—”

“Shh,” he hushed. He supported one arm beneath her bum, cradling her to him. He carried her to the bedroom and placed her softly on the mattress before he moved away. She pouted rubbing at her eye with the palm of her hand.

“Where are you going?”

He really didn’t think his heart could take how cute she was. It felt like it was bursting, threatening to break out of his ribcage and find its way into hers so it could be next to her heart. “M’jus’ changing, baby, showered before I left,” he explained. “Gonna be all snuggled close.”

She sighed with relief. Crawled beneath the covers and waited patiently while Harry stripped down to his boxers and went to the bathroom to quickly swish his toothbrush around his mouth.

Harry wasted no time getting into bed. He lifted the sheet, blanket, and comforter that she had decorated the bed in a pattern Harry never would have had if she didn’t live with him. It was plenty warm. Rendering her defense all the sweeter.

He opened his arms for her to nuzzle against him where she also wasted no time falling into his embrace.

Maybe one day she would sleep in bed without him suffocating her with his cuddling.

But it wasn’t going to be any time soon.

“I love you,” she murmured to him.

“I love you,” he kissed down the length of her neck.

“Missed you so much.”

Sometimes he didn’t know if he meant her shift or the three years that he didn’t see her.

“I missed you, baby,” honestly it didn’t matter what she meant because the moments she wasn’t within his sight he missed her like crazy. Too much time apart made him a little insane. A little hungry for time that he couldn’t get back. But he would try anyway and enjoy every second of it. “Don’t sleep on the sofa waiting for me,” he hummed. He worried about her always. “It’ll hurt your neck.”

“Don’t you care about how my heart will hurt, Harry?” Her voice was soft, joking.

“More than anything, kitten,” he promised, seriously. “M’always going t’come home t’you though. Did y’sleep on the sofa last night?” He wondered, realizing that there was always going to be a day he didn’t know where she slept. She nodded against him. No speaking. Perhaps she was too tired. Too tired to pretend as well. There was a tight pressure around his heart and a half-smile, half-frown pulled on his lips. “Baby,” he tutted. “I don’t want you t’do that.”

“S’too late. Spent too many nights without you,” she mumbled.

So, Harry understood. He would have to think of something to help her. But for now, he understood. “M’in love with you,” he reminded her.

“Me too, baby,” she squeezed him making him feel whole.

He cupped the back of her head, kissed the center of her forehead letting his lips press there for so long he hoped it would suction his mouth to her skin just so he never had to let her go ever again. “Can we have French toast in the morning?” She whispered.

He nodded easily, his eyelids felt heavier as they closed, and his chin bumped the top of her head. “Whatever y’want, kitten.”

“Whatever I want?” She murmured.

He nodded again. “Always.”

“Harry?” She whispered. It seemed she got a bit of a second wind from the time he got her off the sofa and brought her to bed. Unfortunately, Harry wasn’t feeling any bit of it. As much as he wanted to stay awake and talk to her for hours on end, he hadn’t slept much the last two days and he felt sleepiness winning over the desire to speak.

“Hmm?” He hummed, almost falling fast asleep before he could hear her again.

“I hate sleeping without you. I never want to do it ever again unless you’re working or you’re on a trip with your family or because Niall wants to sleep with you,” she took a deep breath while Harry smiled and shook his head at her. “So, when we get married, I don’t want to do a single night apart, not even the day before.”

Harry reached for her left hand that rested on his shoulder and he softly rubbed her ring finger. He nodded. Kissed the crown of her head and sighed. “Okay, angel,” he murmured. “No night’s apart that aren’t necessary.”

“I’ll stop talking. You can go to sleep.”

“Don’t get out of bed in the morning,” he murmured and squeezed her tighter. “I hate when y’do that,” he grumbled.

She giggled. “I’ll wake you.”

“Good,” he sighed. “I love you. More than anything.”

“I love you,” she answered. “More than anything.”

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mykaelaaa · 1 day

Text

lesson learned

✰ lee teaches you how to handle a weapon but you kept getting distracted

✰warnings: guns, crimes, suggestive

✰words: 2.2k

"we have the entire forest around us and live in the woods. who's even gonna catch us?"

it was just simple banter back and forth. except today it seemed a bit more unfair, mostly for you.

it sparked after you read an article about a break-in near your neighborhood.

"listen to this one," you announced the seventh reading session in the past five minutes to lee, not certain if she was genuinely immersed or lost track by the time you finished with the first story.

"a woman suffered life threatening injuries around late night hours while her husband was out of town. they stole cash and jewelry and left without a trace," you quickly passed through the story, turning head in disapproval.

"great, hope FBI has spare guns for the love of your life," you added jokingly, hoping she just might consider it an option.

with closed news tab and a slight bitter feeling left by the nearby crime, you run your eyes over to your unbothered girlfriend. post afternoon nap fashion on display. lazily done ponytail, chapped lips and one of your old hoodies.

she probably thinks she can just teleport from her office to the cabin if you're in danger only if she thinks really hard about it. so it doesn't concern her much.

and that's how it began. neither of you letting it slide easily.

how do you argue with an intelligence officer who holds the highest scores in top-secret exams out of the whole squad for years in a row? and the worst part is she wasn't even bragging, it was a walk in the park for her.

"no."

"lee, think about it-"

"-no, i won't do that. it's not safe and you might get hurt." lee led the conversation flowing with logic and as much as you wanted to exploit the girlfriend privilege and have her drop the attitude or else she can start planning her week on the couch, there are not many ways for you to win this argument.

your begging attempts didn't work for some unknown reason. you just wanted her to show you how to defend yourself, just in case you get caught up in a bad situation.

and who can be a better mentor than lee harker herself?

she bears the patience, the charm, the looks, the wit. all except one thing, she's stubborn loser that cares too much for you.

you were assured it would be no fuss because, in most cases, she lets you get away with many things and not much convincing. it usually starts with a fake, heavy sigh that tries to disguise the fact you already won her over the second you said "can we" followed by "fine, we can do that i guess".

the win-loss ratio goes heavily in your favor.

"i mean, lee, imagine this," you said, putting your phone down to be taken more seriously. "you, real deal FBI agent working overnight on top secret case and me, your average local barista home alone?"

"you're not average," lee stated convincingly, now her eyes locking with yours to further prove it.

modest chuckle left you but you can't falter. not now.

"what if something happens? the headlines being "officers cabin raided; partner had no idea how to defend herself". kind of embarrassing, right?"

she shrugged not fully convinced, again absorbed in the detective game on her phone you made her addicted to.

"not really. many people don't know how to defend themselves nowadays."

she both missed and had a point.

as you took the last sip of the coffee and softly slammed down the mug knowing it will make her look up from her phone, you said "well that settles it then."

and maybe if you add a touch of dramatic scenario, she'd get it.

"if someone hires a hitman, reason being me having super-important-intel-full girlfriend then i won't know how to defend myself and die."

which is partially your fault for wanting to know every single detail about the cases she is working on.

she frowned, putting her phone aside. disappointment clear by the look on her face at the terrible scenario you just made up.

"what? no. what? don't say that."

"it is kind of true, though." you got up carrying your mug to the kitchen. the look you shot over the shoulder made her sigh.

jackpot.

you caught lee looking around the house, chewing on her lip. hands fidgeting in the pocket of her hoodie. eyes searching for nothing in particular but her mind was.

her gaze lingered a bit longer at the fluffy, ruffled blanket near the fireplace she got from you with "FBI Agent Off Duty" sewn into it. even if it sounded incredibly corny she would take a bullet for it, quite literally.

chair screeched against the wooden floor and lee beelined towards her office without a word.

sound of drawers opening and closing slipped through the walls for a minute up until it got suspiciously quiet.

right when you were about to check if she needed helping hand, you stopped to find her figure leaning against the doorway.

jacket on and holster attached to her hip hanging loosely as she held two heavy winter jackets in each hand, presenting them to you. it was hardly that cold outside but she went that extra mile.

"which one do you want?" it's not much of a hassle choosing between her FBI jacket and yours, a bland one on discount.

your answer was fairly delayed because it took some strength to look away from all that officer look going on that often gets you going. her in strictly business outfits are reserved for the work-cramped mornings and nights, not on free days like this one.

"i-i'll take the one that wasn't on discount three years ago." it made her snicker like she saw that answer coming.

you reached to take the jacket first but she stopped you, "turn around first."

"what for?"

lee didn't care to explain why but instead turned you around swiftly by the hips and kept her hands there. her front against your back as she bent her knees slightly to adjust to your height. hair tickling you and cheek brushing against yours.

she can be sly if she wants to.

out of thin air, she pulled out another holster to wrap it around your waist. you concentrated on the way her fingers adjusted it, easy like breathing. speaking of it, lee's face was terribly close to yours. with just a little push forward you would have kissed the corner of her lips.

but you opted to tease her instead, squinting your eyes in suspicion.

"is this how you help interns too?"

that earned you a quick side glance and a pair of raised brows, sort of shocked you'd ask that. do you think she's all that immoral when away from home? does she need to prove it to you?

she turned you around again with more force, face to face with you. her bangs tickled your forehead and you swallowed nervously. looking down at her final maneuvers at strapping you in safely.

veiny hands that buckled the belt with precision, a blend of her unique feminine yet masculine perfume, the heat rising between you.

"i don't do interns."

"you don't do interns?"

lee either ignored you or didn't hear you. she raised her head but still kept gaze lowered, satisfied with her handiwork.

"here," she grabbed her thrown FBI jacket from the couch.

"so what do you do then? baristas?"

"you said you wanted me to show you how to handle a gun."

"i did. you know i'm just kidding lee." you pulled her closer by the hand while snatching the jacket with the other. high quality material hugged your body perfectly. plus points for smelling like her.

it's not often lee sees you in her clothes like this. she would be lying if she said it didn't make her feel warm inside. and whatever else love brings.

"shall we?"

✧ ✧

it resembled professional training, except you were surrounded by the comfort of your home.

and lee was far from just any typical instructor.

she was adamant about teaching you the basics and her dominant side was slipping through the cracks. you didn't mind, not one bit.

after scanning the forest carefully and picking a tree that will serve as the target, lee ordered you where to stand and what to do.

something about your girlfriend bossing you around did a toll on you.

"see where my fingers are? that's the good way to hold it," lee explained, using herself as a reliable example. she kept unnecessary long eye contact with you that made you feel small.

"did you get it?" she questioned with a steady tone.

you nodded too quickly, "yes, yes. i can do it on my own."

that was a lie.

perhaps this wasn't the best idea, and you should rather take classes with someone who doesn't have the same hands that make you see stars almost every night.

and thank god she doesn't do interns.

at first, you battled with the weight of it. lee moved quietly behind you, watching you struggle to recall the correct position. you felt her hands traveling all the way to yours and softly wrapping around them. they were warm to touch, a harsh contrast to the outside breeze and cold metal of the gun.

she guided your fingers to where they were supposed to rest. a shiver passed right through you and you knew who to blame.

"ease off on the grip for me."

you breathed out harshly, unaware you've been keeping it in this whole time. lee didn't notice, sound was muffled by the leaves rustling.

but she did everything else. your hands were trembling under her hold and you held your breath for too long. she didn't understand why. she owned endless patience, especially when it came to you.

she wasn't the most skilled when it came to comforting but at least there was a lot of effort present.

"it's okay, i'm here," her words brushed past your ear, causing you to nearly drop the gun. she can crack a decades old cold case but not comprehend the effect she has on you.

"i didn't know how to use it either but i learned eventually," lee added.

all you did was nod and she wasn't satisfied with that reaction.

"look at me," sounded more authoritative than she wanted it to be. but you didn't dare to turn your face in her direction or else you might end up kissing her. or something worse. and you knew it would come full circle to bite you back.

with inhuman manner and precision, she snatched the gun from your weak grip, simultaneously letting the other land on your cheek, making you face her.

"are you cold?"

"of course not, i got your jacket on," you stated as matter of a fact.

"what is it then?"

"what are you talking about?" you laughed maybe too wildly trying to avoid her gaze.

lee dealt with many liars and you got something similar going on.

"you're distracted," lee stated, not leaving any room for your excuses. it was a plain observation and a correct one.

what a genius. you rolled your eyes, suddenly finding a tree branch interesting to stare at, deciding you can't keep this facade up any longer.

"it's you lee. you're a distraction."

"me?" just a tad of hurt in her voice apparent. probably thinking she wasn't good enough of a teacher. if only you could swap places with her right now instead of explaining yourself.

"yes. you," your hands sneaked up to cup her face, dragging against a rough material and for a second you leaned in forward. you lured her in so effortlessly. she mirrored your movements, eager breaths meeting in the middle but you backed away. not allowing her to kiss you.

you chuckled meanly, playing with your lips she kept staring at like she was about to snap. you left the kiss hung in the air and lee was ready to chase it.

"i don't really care about the lesson right now to be honest."

"i figured," lee barely finished the sentence before she pulled you in. both lips cold and soft. it was simple yet such a complex mix of everything.

her shoulders slumped at ease right as and you deepened the kiss further. her hands gripping your sides. hunger was spilling out from both bodies and eventually someone had to bite the bullet and move it inside the house.

neither was down let go, too breathless from a brief makeout. much bigger shame for a trained officer with good endurance who got all her air knocked out by her girlfriend.

"i thought you'd take it more seriously, you know," you teased, smile spreading across your lips.

"i did. this is a reward for not shooting me," she shot back matching your grin. "and i'll have to keep that jacket under a lock."

"yeah? i recommend doing the same for guns," you flashed the stolen one in front of her eyes before making a run for the house.

lee gave you some time to enjoy your fun and find a hiding spot. preferably somewhere close to the bedroom before she's had enough of her lessons being ignored.

so you'll have to learn a few. it's weekend after all.

#lee harker #lee harker imagines #lee harker x reader #longlegs 2024 #the grip her jacket has on me #the jacket STAYS ON #guys how to get lee harker to europe safely no customs please #me vs rushed ending who will win

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egg-emperor · 3 days

Text

I don't reflect on it much now but it's times like these where I get harsh reminders of how bad of a year 2022 was and realize how far I've come

Becoming the target of harassment and slander due to a combination of my Eggman creations and then being blamed for my abuse after learning the reasons behind it was really hard. I almost died months before that campaign even happened because I was in a terrible place anyway and some knew and still hurt me and made it worse. They made me regret surviving for a while. And if I expressed how hurt I was by it all, I was called manipulative

I lost so much in so many ways and had vile things said about me and my abuse and if it wasn't for the real friends and the lovely followers and anons who stuck by and supported me, I don't think I'd still be here. I was still acting out in terrible ways online for a while after because I was in an absolute awful place mentally due to irl and online struggles. There's a lot of deleted posts and DMs I regret but I genuinely wasn't thinking right for months, my mind was genuinely fucked

I developed some bad habits that I haven't fully recovered from and fluctuate between how bad they are but I'm glad it's one of the only things left to work on. The stress, anxiety, and depression of 2022 worsened my health issues a lot as last year I started experiencing increased fainting and other physical health issues. At that point I realized I needed a change for my safety and health. For a while I didn't even feel like I deserved to be helped so it was hard but I finally did it

Now I'm getting support with bills, going to doctor and hospital appointments to look into my disability for diagnosis and hopefully to be helped, I have a therapist I just started with. I'm personally not an SSRI meds kind of guy so I've been doing every other method to recover instead. I've also made a ton of progress mentally on my own with my mindset, it's far less of a negative and angry place than it was then. I manage how I deal with setbacks better, I don't feel like I'm back at square one when things get bad now

I spend far less time thinking about what happened or letting their negativity consume me. There's been a few times since where parts of it have come back up and it's been challenging at times but I can handle them more rationally and be the sensible level-headed one and assure that I don't go back to that place. It's okay for me to be hurt by it and realize what happened to me was wrong but I don't let it haunt me every moment anymore. It's no longer the first thing I think of when I wake and last when I go to sleep

And I've realized what really matters and what's really important to me. The passion and joyful expression of the things I love and all the great people that are still here that I have the delight of getting to know and talk to. There's still a lot of challenges coming up in the future but I'm happy that it has nothing to do with everything back then. I want to express myself and my passion and never feel the shame they wanted me to. I want to get better. I finally want to live. I have hope and believe better times are ahead

And I'm very grateful for everyone who is warm, kind and supportive of me along the way. I appreciate everyone who is accepting of me and make me feel like I finally belong somewhere. Thank you 💜

#case in point I already managed to turn those feelings I got seeing a painful reminder this morning #into reflection and gratitude for how much better I'm doing now lol #important

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glossdebut · 10 hours

Text

Take a Bite Ch. 4

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: mental health-related stuff for yoongi (past), seokjin being meddlesome, um... smut! surprise, it's here. min yoongi #1 munch

✧ WORDCOUNT: 5.1k

✧ STATUS: ongoing

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: hmmm hi hello. this chapter gave me problems, so sorry for the wait, but i'm actually really pleased with how it ended up. also, i'm adding the songs that inspire my chapter titles to every chapter from here on out, and going back to edit them into previous chapters. hope u enjoy!

Chapter 4: Just The Way That We Are

Yoongi loves his friends.

Yoongi’s friends have saved his life more times than he can count, and they keep him social, and they make him feel loved, and he loves them back. That’s what he has to remind himself of, anyway. Because he kind of wants to kill them right now.

He may whine and complain about them, but he enjoys their standing monthly plans—wellness checks, Namjoon dubbed them—much more than he lets on.

He knows himself, knows what he can be like sometimes. He knows that he spends more time in the studio than he does at home. He knows that when he gets sucked into working on a track he’s shit at taking care of himself. He likes to think that he’s better about it now.

There was a time, though, not all that long ago, where it wasn’t uncommon for him to sleep on the ratty couch in his studio more days out of the week than his own bed. A time where he survived on massive cups of coffee and treated showers as rewards for figuring out why his songs were so fucking bad. A vicious cycle of bleeding nailbeds and uneaten cup ramen and the sound of a metronome making him want to bash his skull against his desk. A spiral.

A spiral that ended abruptly when Seokjin weaseled the door code for Yoongi’s studio out of Namjoon and found him sitting in the dark muttering at his computer screen, several pounds lighter than the last time Seokjin had seen him.

Seokjin was nice to Yoongi about it. He didn’t judge when he had to peel Yoongi out of his chair and force dinner into his mouth. Even when he had to sit in the bathroom with him as he showered, just in case Yoongi passed out. He didn’t make any jokes. That’s how Yoongi knew that he’d fucked up, back then. How he knew that he’d really scared Seokjin. Not one goddamn joke.

So, wellness checks were born. The seven of them gathering monthly, always at Yoongi’s apartment, to spend time together. Sometimes they eat dinner, sometimes they play video games. Most of the time they drink. Wellness checks, plus Seokjin popping in on random nights between to make Yoongi dinner, have kept Yoongi from spiraling for almost two years now.

So really, Yoongi does love his friends. They keep him afloat, hold him accountable.

They’re also annoying, nosy little motherfuckers that won’t stop hounding him about you.

It starts like this: Yoongi is minding his business, like always.

He’s burrowed into the couch, watching an argument unfold between Jeongguk and Seokjin over who gets to play as Yoshi in Mario Kart. He’s been drinking from the huge bottle of whiskey you bought him all night, and he’s lost count of how many he’s had now. He’s really fucking focusing on this argument. Jeongguk and Seokjin both talk too fast, especially when they’re yelling at each other.

And even though aside from being drunk Yoongi is being completely fucking normal, Hoseok mistakes his silence for, like, contemplation or melancholy or something stupid like that, when really he’s just waiting for Jeongguk to win and get to play as Yoshi, like always.

“Hyung, you’re being quiet,” Hoseok says, and suddenly it feels like all eyes are on Yoongi. The only other person he could be talking about is Seokjin and Seokjin can very rarely be described as quiet.

“He’s thinking about his lady love,” Seokjin says. Case in goddamn point. “His neighbor. She’s cute, but Yoongi-yah has no game.”

And really, fuck him. Seokjin may be one of Yoongi’s favorite people on the planet—he’s just drunk enough to acknowledge it—but that was just uncalled for. No game?

Yoongi has come to terms with the fact that he likes you, but it’s also really not that goddamn serious. He would be an idiot not to. You’re pretty, you’re intelligent, you’re interesting. You have real aspirations and you’re going for them with everything you’ve got, so that makes you cool in his eyes.

Sometimes you post songs you like on your Instagram story, and Yoongi doesn’t even really use Instagram that often, but when he checks it, it’s almost always a song he likes. And if it’s not, he listens to it when he has a few minutes, and he ends up liking it anyway. It makes him feel like… He doesn’t know. It’s nice. Kind of sexy, somehow.

He thought about kissing you that day in his apartment before Seokjin barged in and sent you flying across his kitchen. Fuck, he wanted a taste. But Yoongi can read a cue, and you’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t have time for dating.

So, yes. He likes you. But he also understands you, because he’s been you. Seokjin seems to be under the impression that Yoongi is stuck in some kind of dramatic unrequited love situation, because that is the way that Seokjin thinks love works, but he just met you. He’s happy to be your friend, if that’s what you want. That’s why he offered it in the first place. Yoongi respects your boundaries enough to listen to you the first time when you say you don’t date. Simple as that. Being your friend isn’t some kind of consolation prize to him.

Also, rewind—once again, no game? Yoongi is a master in the art of flirtation, thank you very much. What the hell does Seokjin know about having game? All he has is his stupid face and his height, Yoongi thinks bitterly. One day, his stupid face will become ugly, too, because that is the way of the world. Seokjin will have nothing, but Yoongi will still have his words.

He’s opening his mouth to say something to that effect, but of course, everybody has something to say after Seokjin’s betrayal.

“Hyung likes a girl? Since when?” Jimin asks. Yoongi presses his lips into a thin line.

Jeongguk chimes in. “She’s cute? Hyung, why does Seokjin-hyung know she’s cute? Why does he get to know everything first?”

“The one in the apartment down the hall, hyung?” Hoseok. Waggling his eyebrows like he knows more. Seokjin is going to die.

“She lives down the hall? Can we meet her?” Taehyung.

Morons, Yoongi thinks.

“You’re all crazy,” he complains, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can feel himself getting pink, the six pairs of eyes on him making him bristle. He ducks his head, sinking further into the couch. “Why do you want to meet my neighbor so bad? Quit being weird. No.”

“Leave Yoongi-hyung alone,” Namjoon says, and see? That’s why Yoongi likes him! Very diplomatic, as per usual.

“Thank you, Joon-ah.”

“He can be a pussy all he wants.”

Oh, okay!

Yoongi is going to strap Kim Namjoon to that mechanical bull with rope next time and then leave him for dead.

“Is that what they taught you in your gender studies course, Kim Namjoon?” Yoongi hisses, crossing his arms over his chest defensively, but before Namjoon can defend himself, Seokjin is speaking.

“You should invite her over, Yoongi-yah.” Yoongi hates how soft his voice sounds about it. Like he’s trying to be gentle with Yoongi’s feelings or something.

He sighs, sitting up.

“It’s really not like that,” Yoongi insists, his frustration mounting as he rubs at his temples. “I’m sure you’re all going to meet her at some point, okay? Because we’re friends. But not tonight. Stop trying to be matchmakers. It’s pissing me off, and you’re all ass at it, anyway.”

That seems to be effective in shutting them down, but now Yoongi is faced with six guilt-laden expressions. He softens a bit. He’s being too harsh, he realizes. They barely said anything, and they mean well. He knows that.

“Look, I just met her, and we haven’t had many opportunities to hang out,” he says, more gently this time. “We’re both busy. I don’t know her that well yet, and I don’t want to overwhelm her with… meeting the family so early on.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Namjoon says. Yoongi shakes his head.

“It’s fine. I just need all of you to drop it for now,” he says.

Everyone seems to agree. Even Seokjin, which is the biggest relief of all.

He knows why Seokjin is trying to push this. Why they all are.

When he told you he understood you, that he got it, he really meant it. He’s been fucked over before, more than once. Not for the same reasons as you, but he can imagine it probably hurts the same.

Relationships in general have never really been high up on Yoongi’s priority list to begin with. In his eyes, it can be nice when it happens, but he doesn’t reach for it.

He’s done the casual sex thing, but he never needed it like some people claimed to. Yoongi can relate to feeling like a shaken up soda can ninety-nine percent of the time, but one night stands don’t do much to relieve the pressure for him. In the end, casual caused more problems for him than it solved, so he doesn’t do that anymore. Doesn’t really want to again.

He’s done the relationship thing, too. That was better. The feeling of falling in love is… Well, he got lots of songs out of his last relationship, that’s for sure. He fell pretty hard, so hard that he didn’t even feel like himself. His friends were tickled. Min Yoongi, who gets so prickly about public displays of affection, kissing his girlfriend in the middle of a crowded street, just because! Not caring when it ended up online. Feeling proud, even. Putting that kind of trust into someone else made him feel so much lighter. Anyway, he got a lot of songs out of the breakup, too.

It’s been a long time since Yoongi has shown interest in anyone, even to a minute degree. He can’t blame his friends for wanting to play the six Bingleys to his Darcy, but he’s not going to push you, and he’s not going to put you in a room with his friends who are afraid hes going to die alone and let them try to push you either. If you decide you want him, he wants it to be real.

The rest of wellness check night goes by relatively smoothly, all things considered. Jeongguk does, in fact, end up playing as Yoshi despite Seokjin trying to play the hyung card over it. He also wins so much that Jimin’s eye starts twitching. All in all, it’s a pretty normal night.

Yoongi thinks that he’s successfully evaded further probing about you, until he finds Seokjin lingering by the door after the rest of them have filtered out.

“Yoongi-yah,” he says in that same soft tone from earlier.

“I don’t want to hear it, hyung.”

“I know you don’t, but you’re going to hear it anyway.” His voice is firm.

Jeongguk may not fall victim to Seokjin’s hyung card easily, but Yoongi does. He always does. So he sighs, waving a hand for Seokjin to get on with it.

“Invite her to your studio.”

“What?” Yoongi asks, scoffing. His studio is sacred. “Why?”

“You said you don’t get to see her that often, but you don’t want to bring her around us yet,” Seokjin says, looking at Yoongi like he’s dumb. “She’s a writer. You can write anywhere, Yoongi-yah.”

“She has an office,” he says flatly, and Seokjin groans, rolling his eyes like Yoongi is being obtuse.

“It’ll be like when we go fishing. We don’t really talk much, but the silence is nice. It’s still quality time. You can spend time together without taking time away from work for both of you.”

Yoongi opens his mouth to protest, but when Seokjin says it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad. It could work, if you’re open to it… He thinks he remembers Namjoon going on about, like, children doing what Seokjin is proposing—parallel play, or whatever—but it could work.

“Maybe,” he says finally.

“No, it’s okay,” Seokjin says, grinning. “You can admit that I’m a genius. The world may think that it’s you, but I’m the real brains of this operation.”

“Go home, hyung,” Yoongi huffs, pushing Seokjin out the door. He shuts it behind him, hearing his hyung’s screechy laugh descending down the hall.

It’s not a bad idea.

★ ★ ★

You’re in Yoongi’s studio, and it feels like a very bad idea.

On your part, at least. It was actually unbelievably sweet, the way Yoongi proposed it. Which does not help your problem in the slightest.

It’s been several weeks since you’ve last seen him in person, all of your correspondence with him taking place over text. Busy, busy, you claim to be, and you have been, but you had been terrified Yoongi was going to start thinking you’ve been avoiding him. You also feel so, so guilty that he would’ve been right.

You just haven’t been able to figure out how to look him in the eye after… your recent thoughts about him. Thoughts that have been pervading your mind ever since you admitted to Rina that yes, you very much would like to find out what his cock would feel like inside of you.

You fully intended to continue avoiding seeing him in person until you could figure out either A) how to stop those thoughts entirely, or B) how to ask him if he would be down to clown in a completely casual, platonic manner. You’ve been coming up empty on both.

And then you saw that he’d texted you, looking at your phone right as the rest of your coworkers were filtering out of the office and you were hunkering down for another two hours minimum of work, and once again, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to him. Not when he always somehow seems to know the right things to say.

[5:57] Yoongi: If you get stuck while you’re writing tonight, you should come by the studio. Change of scenery might help.

[5:58] Yoongi: Haven’t seen you in a while and I’ll be here late. Plus I’d bet good money that you haven’t eaten dinner yet, and I’m about to order some.

[6:00] Yoongi: Do you need any more incentive? My company should be enough.

[6:10] Do I need to bribe you with those raps you keep bothering me about? I’ll show you 30 seconds of ONE.

You really hadn’t been ignoring him that time, and thankfully you were able to open them only ten minutes after his last text. He knows your texting habits well enough at this point to know that you either respond instantly or take forever, caught up in whatever it is you’re working on. It’s almost like he’s nervous you’ll say no, which is just… He’s cute. Whatever. You said yes.

The problem is, now you’re in his studio, sitting on his couch with your laptop perched on your thighs, picking at the remnants of the takeout he’d ordered, trying and failing miserably at focusing on your work.

It was a lovely idea on his part to invite you to work in silence with him. It was so sweet. It’s not his fault that you can’t focus, that for the past thirty minutes all you’ve been doing is trying to figure out how to ask him to bend you over his desk. Because you’ve officially made your decision on that.

You decided about ten minutes after you arrived, in fact. The thirty seconds of the rap he’d promised to play you made a strong argument (Seokjin wasn’t joking about college Yoongi being shameless) but you held your resolve to put the idea of having sex with Yoongi out of your mind.

No, it wasn’t the filthy, explicit bars spat out in his gravelly voice that did you in. It was the sight of him sitting in his chair, noise-cancelling headphones on, tapping away at his midi. Surrounded by expensive equipment, plaques outlining achievements, a guitar hanging on the wall. There’s a coffee cup on his desk that you can only imagine has been sitting there since the morning. From where you're sitting, you can see him in profile: his eyes sharp and focused, his tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth. Like he can do this all night. In his element.

In short, you find it sexy that he’s a workaholic just like you. You don’t want to think too hard about that at all.

He has one ear of his headphones shifted behind his ear in case you need him for something (also sexy), so you set the takeout and your laptop on the coffee table, clearing your throat.

“Yoongi,” you say softly.

He hums in response, his eyes still focused on the monitor in front of him.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

At that, he clicks a few more times on his computer before tearing himself away, taking off his headphones and turning his chair to face you.

“What’s up?”

You take a shaky breath, sitting up a little from where you’ve burrowed on the couch. This isn’t a big deal, you remind yourself. The worst he can say is that he wouldn’t be into it, and Yoongi hasn’t given you any indication that he’s a judgy guy.

“So, I told you that I don’t really have time to date,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think you’re insane for starting a conversation like that.

“You mentioned it,” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Right. So, that’s true,” you say, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater to give your hands something to do. “I don’t want to date anybody right now. But… I, um.” You look down at your hands in your lap. You’re losing steam, losing confidence. Is there a right way to do this? If there is, you’re sure you’re not doing it. But Yoongi is patient. He sits quietly, waiting for you to find the right words.

It takes you a second, your mounting anxiety causing you to change course in the middle of your sentences, but you finally get them out.

“You’re so… I like being your friend, a lot. And I don’t want that part of our relationship to change. But I was wondering if…” A breath. You need to spit it out. “I’m like, horribly attracted to you. And I was wondering if you’d want to do, like, a friends with benefits thing?”

You cringe at yourself. You’ve never done something like this before, and it shows. You’re completely prepared for Yoongi to laugh and say no, to go back to his work. But when you look up, your breath catches in your throat.

Yoongi’s eyes are so, so dark. You don’t know what to make of the way he’s looking at you. It’s not the same look he gave you the night you met, when you were both harmlessly flirting. The way he looked at you in his kitchen is closer, but it’s still not the same. There’s something else there, something you don’t recognize. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, his voice as low as you’ve ever heard it. Serious.

You shiver, but you nod and soldier on.

“I don’t want you to think it’s weird that I want that,” you say, standing your ground. “But yes. That’s what I want.”

Yoongi is unmoving, maybe taking a moment to consider your offer, and you can’t take it. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest. He needs to stop fucking looking at you like that.

Finally, he speaks. “It’s not weird,” he says. Nothing else. You wait, tortuous seconds passing by, expecting some kind of verdict, a yes or no, but it never comes. You break.

“Yoongi...” He hums. “...Do you want to fuck me?”

You watch as Yoongi licks his lips, his eyes raking over you shamelessly. Apparently that was the right thing to ask.

“You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you.”

The air in his studio thickens, just like that. Fuck. You feel like you’re going to die before he gets the chance.

“Show me,” you breathe.

Yoongi assesses you for just a moment longer before standing from his desk chair, crossing the small space of his studio to sit beside you on the couch. His body is turned towards you, so you turn in kind, swallowing thickly.

He reaches to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing over your cheek in the process. His touch leaves a trail of heat over your skin, making you gasp, closing your eyes. There’s no alcohol warming you this time, making your head feel fuzzy, not right now. It’s just Yoongi, maybe it’s just been Yoongi the whole time, making you feel so affected by so little.

“I’m not fucking you tonight,” he says. Your eyes snap open, a protest at the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch. “Not tonight. Let’s start with something easy, baby.”

Baby.

“Easy?” you breathe. You’re half-convinced you’ll go along with anything he says. Take anything he sees fit to give you. He hasn’t even done anything. You’re screwed.

He nudges his nose against yours, his hand sliding down from your hair to cup your jaw, the other rubbing gentle circles into your hip. “Easy,” he murmurs, and then his lips are on yours, the sensation stealing all of the breath from your lungs.

Yoongi’s kiss is slow and exploring, unhurried, thorough, like he has all the time in the world to take you apart piece by piece and he intends on using it. You feel yourself whimper against his lips, your hands coming up to fist in his shirt, as if you can’t get him close enough.

His tongue teases at the seam of your lips. They part easily for him, and fuck, kissing has never felt like this before, made your whole body burn. You’re no virgin, for fuck’s sake. You and your ex had plenty of sex, and it was even good, but if just kissing Min Yoongi feels like this, you’re not prepared for what it’ll be like when he fucks you. Maybe he’s right to start with something easy.

Apparently, though, Yoongi has other plans.

He pulls back from the kiss, squeezing your hip. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll still take care of you,” he says, trailing heated kisses from your jaw down to your neck. “You want me to?”

“Yes,” you pant, uncaring of how desperate you must sound. It’s all out in the open now, no use in hiding it.

Yoongi chuckles as his hands find the hem of your sweater, sliding under it to feel your feverish skin. “Stop me whenever,” he murmurs against your neck, squeezing your breasts over the fabric of your bra.

When you don’t reply, his fingers expertly locate a nipple through the fabric, pinching it lightly, and you breathe out a gasped ‘okay.’ He hums, pleased, his mouth claiming yours again as he continues to run his hands over your body.

You only break the kiss when one of his hands pauses at the waistband of your pants, but it sure as hell isn’t to stop him.

“Touch me,” you encourage, your forehead pressed against his.

Yoongi wastes no time, and you watch as his hand disappears under the fabric, thanking your lucky stars for dress pants with elastic waistbands. His fingers slide beneath the fabric of your panties to slip through your folds, and you both groan when he finds you drenched.

“Fuck,” he hisses, running his fingers up and down your slit slowly. “You’re soaked, baby. How long were you sitting here thinking about me fucking you?”

“Pretty much the whole time,” you admit weakly, your hips jolting when he circles your clit, a shaky moan falling from your lips.

His hand retreats from your pants, and before you can react, he’s rising from the couch, pushing the coffee table out of the way with his foot and sinking to his knees in front of you.

“I’ve gotta taste you,” he says, his expression almost pained as he tugs at your pants. “Can I?”

Who the fuck are you to say no to that?

You nod your consent eagerly, lifting your hips up so he can pull your pants and underwear off all in one go. Once you’re bare from the waist down, Yoongi slides his hands up your calves, positioning your legs so they’re spread wide, your feet planted on the couch on either side of you.

The way he looks at you then, almost worshipful, his jaw slack and pupils blown as he stares at your core... He looks almost as wrecked as you feel.

“Look at you,” he breathes, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, and then he’s surging forward, his tongue flattening to lick a broad stripe over your pussy.

“Yoongi,” you moan, your head falling back against the cushion behind you as your hands fly forward to tangle in his hair. Encouraged, he licks into you over and over, like he’s trying to devour you, his nose grinding against your clit as he works his jaw. “Fuck!”

Yoongi pulls back and you force yourself to lift your head, moaning at the sight of your slick all over the lower half of his face.

“Taste so fucking sweet,” he groans, trailing two fingers through your folds again to tease at your entrance. “You want more?”

“Please,” you whimper, and he grins, his fingers sinking into your pussy with little resistance. He curls them up, searching for the spot that will make your vision go white. When he finds it, you cry out, your back arching, and he leans forward again to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking at it.

It’s all too much, so fucking good you think you might die if he keeps going. Shit, you’ll die if he stops, too. He better not fucking stop.

“D-don’t stop,” you whimper, and he hums against your clit, making your eyes roll back as his fingers quicken into a steady, relentless pace.

It becomes clear he has no plans to stop, to tease, that he wants to push you over the edge just as much as you want to fall.

He uses his free hand to nudge your thigh, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder. The other follows suit, and before long, you’re practically squeezing his head between the plushness of your thighs, your moans coming out unbidden.

With one particularly hard suck to your clit, you’re gasping for breath, your eyes squeezing shut. All of the tension in your body snaps at once and your hips push into his touch, grinding against his fingers and his tongue as your orgasm washes over you in waves.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, fuck,” you mewl, your hips moving of their own accord as you ride out the high, your skin buzzing with heat.

Yoongi’s fingers slow their pace but he doesn’t stop, milking your release for all it’s worth until you’re pushing his head away weakly, trying to catch your breath.

Finally, he relents, sitting back on his heels, his breaths just as labored as yours. He withdraws his fingers, sucking them into his mouth to lick your release off of them.

“Holy shit,” you pant, running your hands over your face, and Yoongi laughs.

“Good?” he teases, and you nod, slumping back against the couch. Good feels like an understatement, and you can tell he knows that. You can only imagine the reason for that slightly smug look on his face is from the sheer speed with which he made you come. You’d be embarrassed about it if he didn’t look so turned on, his eyes running over your body like he’s deciding whether he wants to go for seconds.

After a moment, he moves to stand up, wincing at the tension in his knees. Your eyes zero in on his cock straining against the material of his sweatpants instantly, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. Fuck, you want that. You want it so bad. Why won’t he give it to you? Your staring doesn’t go unnoticed.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Not tonight, Y/N,” he says, and you make a pitiful noise. Why he wants to deny himself a blowjob is beyond you.

He slips his hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants (right in front of you, the tease) to give himself a placating squeeze and adjust himself. “Next time,” he promises, bending at the waist to cup your cheek and kiss you again.

You taste yourself on his lips, pulling him further by the front of his shirt. He lets you, bracing a hand on the back of the couch to keep himself steady. “You sure?” you breathe between hot, needy kisses. He groans and you think, for a moment, that you might be able to persuade him to change his mind. But then he’s pulling away again, and you whine.

“Next time,” he repeats, grasping your wrist and gently removing your hand from his shirt so he can stand up straight. He looks at his watch. “I doubt anyone is still here, so I’m gonna go get some stuff to clean us both up.” You nod, relenting.

You laugh softly as he adjusts his erection again, at the way he huffs when he can’t get it to look any less obvious. He flips you off at the sound of your laughter, but you can tell there’s no heat behind it.

Once he gives up, he dips his head out the door to check for anyone who could be lingering out there, then retreats from his studio into the hallway. You hear the whir of his door lock as he secures it behind him, ensuring that no one will walk in on you in this state, and then you’re alone.

Sated as you are, the reality of what just happened sinks in quickly. Yoongi ate you out in his place of business. Insane! But to your surprise, it doesn’t feel as major as you were worried it would. Your heart swells at the idea that all of the confidence and trust you had in Yoongi to be upfront with you wasn’t misplaced, that he really is okay with this arrangement. It’s too early to tell, but it already feels like things will stay the same between the two of you.

With the added benefit of sex. Insanely good sex, if what you just experienced is anything to go by. You’re already thinking of the next time that he promised.

You make a mental note to send Rina a fruit basket or something in Paris. She deserves it.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro @butterymin

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tuliharja · 2 years

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Happy New Year to Everybody!

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iamhereinthebg · 2 months

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This may be a strange question but have you ever been bullied in the tbhk fandom? I am having a hard time here

Heya no worries at all for the question! This is an important thing and if you needed to have a place to say it I am happy you did!

I really hope people will be nicer to you :// There is never a good reason for bullying unfortunately it happens a lot on internet QvQ my only advice would be to block those people and/or delete anonymous asks for a while if people are just putting stuff as anonymous :///

To answer your questions, idk if it counts as bullying but I was the target of some stuff like that yep, and tbh I don't really know why. People can have the opinions they want but I will be honest in the tbhk fandom you like a character or a ship that is not 'what everyone in the fandom should like' and people start menacing you for no reason.

A lot of people in this fandom are kids who sometimes don't get what insulting people do. (and not only kids but it is one of the reason, I feel like a lot don't have 'internet basis' like not saying everything about yourself on twitter help.)

Which is also one of the reason I am taking my distances with anyone in this fandom because I had too many unwanted stuff like when I was just trying to be nice and answer messages. It's not because we are in the same fandom that we are bffs.

This is sad to say but yes I don't think you can just have fun 'fun' in this fandom anymore, people will make sure you have a hard time for no reason and honestly I am tired of people who are unable to understand that we aren't just bots on the internet and that Surprise! people have feelings wow

I hope you will be better but don't hesitate to take some time off the fandom a bit ^^ I am being overly dramatic here because I had some bad experiences (I've been in the fandom since the start of 2020 so welp) but a lot of people are really nice and I am sure you can make some friends too ^^ (I did too! even if a lot aren't in the fandom anymore, it's nice seeing mutuals from far away doing their lives)

#I am so sorry for the wait on this ask #I really hope you have a better time now Anon #(and once again bullying is not okay #but there is a difference with people just living their lives and people who are straigth up creeps)#(I shouldn't have to mention basics stuff to anyone to understand that being an asshole is not gonna solve anything)#asks #tbhk #kind of a bad/sad topic but an important one I think #I say that kids are the ones who insult the most but I will be honest my main problem was with someone who was one year older than me lol #anyways this is my experience once again but I am sad to see that some people are being treated poorly ://#I honestly just stopped being active when it happened and honestly I would understand if you have this reaction too #and last but not least #don't let the fandom ruin the og work for you #because it happened way too much for me personnaly and that just makes me sad #(eg: I adore witch hat atelier but I am seeing some stuff from far away and I REALLY don't wanna interact with the fandom #I love this manga too much to be disgusted by it because of the fandom)#this is a lil bit salty but welp no one here should be surprised to see that I don't really like the fandom ahah #And I was a kid on internet once too #I tbh understand at some point to be angry at a lot of stuff and needing a place to talk/to have funB #I never understood the intention of hurting people willingly though #being an asshole and having opinions is different

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batsplat · 3 months

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casey also talks about sepang 2015 what do you think of that

oh in that podcast? uh... lemme listen again...

yeah idk it's not really anything new I'd say? he's said basically all the same stuff in more interesting and extensive ways elsewhere. I think casey inevitably has a very 'well feuding is bad and helps nobody' point of view, has expressed that before in the past, does it here again, and he's also drawn a parallel between himself and marc on several occasions. which... well, of course there's similarities in terms of public discourse or whatever, but the parallel really falls apart whenever casey argues the feuds cost valentino. like, I do think it's sometimes important to just. keep in mind. it's interesting that casey draws this comparison in his mind but that doesn't necessarily means he's right about this. I'm not sure how you'd argue that starting a feud with casey cost valentino anything competitively? you can argue it didn't help him I guess, and then we can have a debate about the ins and outs of the 2008 season. we can also have an argument that in a hypothetical world where casey isn't ill in 2009, valentino doesn't break his leg and casey isn't on a piece of junk in 2010, and valentino isn't on a piece of junk in 2011-12, then actually maybe valentino sparking open animosity with casey COULD have cost him. but we don't know that! didn't happen! I wish we could have found out, but we never got the chance! as it stands, the tally on this is pretty straightforward: casey won the title when things were reasonably civil between them in 2007, and valentino took control of the following season at the exact moment he worsened the relationship between the pair of them in 2008. obviously, it's all more complicated than that and casey would of course argue laguna didn't negatively affect his subsequent performances... but it certainly didn't help them. like, at the very worst valentino escalating tensions in 2008 is a complete net neutral. after 2009, them being bitchy to each other every other tuesday was completely competitively irrelevant beyond maybe affecting how they approached occasionally fighting for a podium position. hey, maybe casey used that feud to fire himself up through sheer spite throughout the later stages of his career, but that doesn't actually support his anti-feud stance - it's basically the exact same thing as what valentino does. they're both quite similar in that regard! always so hungry to prove a point, to show how someone else is wrong. kinda half the point with this feuding business is to get yourself going, get yourself motivated, yeah. he straight up openly admits to using yamaha's repeat rejection of him as a way of giving himself motivation, and at the end of the day that's really not all that different?

anyway, what else does casey say... oh yeah, that him and the other aliens were already kinda prepared for this and had learned vale's tricks. that valentino had only been able to get into the minds of the previous generation. welllllll *wiggles hand* sure, I mean, he did clearly have to change his approach... he couldn't just use the exact same playbook to get to them, either on-track or off-track. but that's why he did change up the playbook... again, whether you want to believe valentino won his final two titles 'in the head' rather than just through pure pace kinda depends on how you assess the evidence, but it is at the very least a debate. and, y'know, it's always worth remembering that valentino's most important mind games with casey didn't happen in a press conference... it was on the track. and the on-track stuff really is just embedded in how valentino approaches winning. speaking of aliens, this is what dani and jorge have said:

like, valentino's entire approach to his riding, even to the way he's setting his bike up, is deliberately about directly fucking with you... he's not actually always trying to be faster than you as much as he's trying to give himself the tools to make your life miserable, to pressure you into mistakes, etc etc... and again, especially with casey (if anything because he was so mentally sturdy), the off-track stuff was really just window dressing. (I know they bicker a lot after 2009 but it's just so fundamentally irrelevant to actual on-track competition.) so you can be aware of those tricks, but it also doesn't necessarily help you when someone's being nasty to you on-track in a way you just fully do not enjoy. which is what it was like for casey! for casey, a lot of this comes back to the truly unpleasant context of how he was perceived by the public, how he was treated as mentally weak or 'broken' or whatever partly because he had the misfortune of coming up against a bloke who had the reputation for breaking rivals. I think it's quite natural to end up with a bit of a hardliner 'actually I've never been mentally affected by a result in my life' stance - and of course casey is a lot tougher than a lot of people give him credit for. that being said. sometimes your rivals affect you, shit happens, it's part of the game. it's fundamentally a nice idea to think that valentino's tactics weren't just morally wrong but also ineffective, which is kind of the appeal of this narrative, right? you want to believe you're above that, you want to believe you were adequately prepared and wise to valentino's tactic. it's unsurprising and understandable that casey does tend to tell the story that way, but again it's *wiggles hand* also hard to describe it as completely factual

uh. what else. oh I'm thrilled casey does canonically know valentino and marc were friends, he has said he wasn't following motogp too much during that time period so you couldn't be sure of that. does this mean anything? does it tell you anything? well, no, but it's just a pleasing thought to me. I like that. oh also 'provoking particularly aggressive riders isn't a good idea' is kinda a funny take from casey? like, he of all people would hate the idea of being cowed by someone's reputation like that... casey's right that provoking fast riders can potentially be dangerous, but y'know I do think that's probably not news to anyone almost nine years later. um. that's all I've got I think

#i will say idm getting asks like this AT ALL but i do hope that's not like. the only bit of the podcast people are paying attention to #my thing with sepang 2015 takes is that like... when's the last time anyone has said anything genuinely interesting about that event #which yes big words from the feud blogger... but in fairness a lot of the sepang 2015 stuff is from old notes. that's my excuse idc #but that's kinda the thing... i feel like i haven't really had a new original thought about the whole drama for three plus years #u do kinda run out. basically the takes say more about the person saying them than about the actual event at this point #which. yeah. casey's comments on sepang '15 are primarily interesting in what they tell you about how he feels towards valentino #mind u he's actually quite nice about valentino in this one? casey call him let's finally organise that dinner #heretic tag #//#brr brr #batsplat responds #oh casey does go on another spiel against riders who win at all costs. ships that passed in the night of feuds i always say #also he gets the age he enters the premier class at wrong. i held myself back in the last post from pointing this out for tonal reasons #but if people want my podcast hot takes. i do simply have to mention it. just to set the record straight here #'they battle for podium places after 2009' genuinely. twice. like the alien era giveth but a lot of the time it really does just taketh #somewhat ironically casey wins the duel when he's on the shitty ducati and vale wins the duel when he's on the even shittier ducati #whatever that tells you idk #casey was always promising the laguna rematch would've gone differently and I love that conceptually but also we just don't know #he was like next time I WON'T play nice and it's like?? omg what does that look like. casey what were you cooking #for ethical reasons it's probably fine but for character arc reasons it's objectively ass that casey ended up being able to do all his -#- racing in a way he was entirely comfortable with for his second title in 2011. like it's just a complete waste of a year #you have this whole thing building for four years and then 2010 comes along and it's like. well that's enough narrative intrigue now! <3 #also casey/jorge are fundamentally too interesting as individuals to have had such an obscenely boring on-track rivalry and yet here we are #it KILLS me because if you rearranged it and made valentino's dogshit ducati years like. 2009 or something #and do a straight title fight between jorge and casey THEN I genuinely think it would've been way more interesting #the problem with valentino is that he is fundamentally the WORST imaginable character you could invent to be casey's foil #literally everything about valentino could have been designed to be a casey-specific nightmare #but unfortunately that also makes him objectively the most interesting rival casey could have gotten #like morally it's on the edge. but narratively? literally could not have gotten a better villain in casey's story #constantly dancing on this faustian line of having to imitate valentino to beat him while trying not to lose yourself... juicy

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