#like the smell of ink on the pages and being excited to turn the page to see what happens next..

[deafsignifcantother]

alastor just being weird

♥ summary: alastor wanting you solely for the fact that you smell delightful so he starts searching your room ♥ relationships: alastor x [deaf] woman reader, deafness not a major point ♥ word count: 600 ♥ notes: reader wears makeup, she likes photography, she also doesn't really gaf about alastor being snoopy and weird LOLZ

Now that you're not in here, he can look around. He's welcomed himself into your empty room, eyes roaming everywhere except the attached bathroom, of course. He's immoral but not indecent. Where should he even start?

As the hotelier, it is his job to meet and make the guests comfortable. To be able to do that, he needs to know more about you, which is out of kindness and does not relate to how good you smell or how he would enjoy making you his next meal, most be mistaken.

Your dresser's drawers are a good start.

Just a standard assortment of socks and underwear, some salacious as any demon would have, neatly arranged. One pair of fishnets, a small collection of photos, a camera, a notebook. Do you always keep things like this? Or did you develop a new habit after the sudden move-in. He is hoping to find a clue as to who you are, and notebooks have saved him a lot of times before. He lightly picks it up and flips it open. Blank pages. Do you write in invisible ink? His claws finger through the pages one at a time before he bends them and watches them fly by. There's nothing.

He's wasting time. He places it back and lifts up the photos. The red sky above. One is a long shot of the pentagram with the Hazbin Hotel in the center.

In the next drawer there are no clothes, only a single makeup bag and accessories. Mismatched earrings, it seems you have a habit of losing one of every pair and then stashing them away—in case you find the other?

Alastor opens the drawer closest to the ground. Empty except for what he can only guess is a miscellaneous drawer. The brush smells like you from the multiple hair strands wrapped around it. His nose twitches; how delightful. He reaches for it slowly, brain rocking back and forth in his skull. But by the time he grips the handle, it's too late to stop. The bristles meet his nose, and he takes a whiff, savoring the pleasant fragrance that fills his lungs. He puts it back before he gets carried away.

Your room has a lovely and quite large wooden wardrobe. As he expected, when he opens it, there is space needing to be filled. His smile twitches at the soft gust of your smell; the scent assaults his hunger.

His index claw drags down a long sleeve, wrapping around the material and bringing it up to his nose. Even when clean, you've corrupted the cotton.

The moment the door opens, he fades into the shadows. He stands before the bathroom door as you step out in a robe, fresh out of the shower. It's the robe he gifted you, a welcome gift. He'll never tell you it's for capturing the soapy aroma of your wet body.

You look behind him, eyes flickering back. His smile tightens. Ah, he left the wardrobe's door open.

Alastor straightens his suit, shoulders a bit taut from embarrassment. He makes a show of brushing off his sleeves while you stand in the same place; the weight of your stare makes him sweat. "Well, my dear, I'm afraid I must be off, one can't even imagine the things I'm busied with!"

He looks up at you, his monocle hiding one of his eyes, his expression unreadable while he waits for a response. His wavery pupils match the small, excited shake of his hands. He doesn't leave immediately, curious him.

"And 'be off' you may," you walk past him, signing in simple pse to strengthen your point, not acknowledging him further. Your hand rests on the wooden frame, getting a small glance inside the wardrobe before closing it softly. By the time you turn around, Alastor is gone.

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (V)

Chapter 5 : ‘But here comes the lyrebird passing through the sky’

Hi, everyone!!! Here we go with the fifth chapter! Introducing new characters, and spending some time at Trinity for this one…

Also, chose a French poem for this one because it fit the theme very well, but I couldn’t find a decent translation, so I translated the poem myself… it isn’t particularly good, sorry about that, but it’s not worse than the other translations I’ve found, sadly…

I hope you like this new chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2110

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Writing Page

Two and two four Four and four eight Eight and eight make sixteen…

Repeat! Says the teacher

Two and two four Four and four eight Eight and eight make sixteen…

But here comes the lyrebird Passing through the sky The child sees it The child hears it The child calls it

Save me Play with me Bird!

So the bird descends And plays with the child

Two and two four…

Repeat! Says the teacher

And the child plays And the bird plays with him…

Four and four eight Eight and eight make sixteen And sixteen and sixteen what do they make? They don’t make anything sixteen and sixteen And especially not thirty-two Anyway And they go away.

And the child has hidden the bird Inside his desk And all the children Hear its song And all the children Hear the music

And eight and eight leave as well And four and four and two and two In turn go away And one and one don’t linger once nor twice One by one they leave too

And the lyrebird plays And the child sings And the teacher cries :

When you are done fooling around!

But all the other children Listen to the music And the walls of the classroom Peacefully crumble.

And the windows turn back into sand The ink turns back into water The desks turn back into trees The chalk turns back into a cliff The quill turns back into a bird.

Jacques Prévert, Paroles, 1946 – original title : “Page d’écriture”

September was grey and rainy, or rather, it withheld the doom of a storm within its dark clouds. The ground was drenched, making the curb darker than usual, the earth smelling sweet and rich with water and life, the leaves glistening in darker shades of green. As Saoirse finally entered the grounds of Trinity College, her steps echoed louder than usual on the glistening pavement.

Finally. Finally, Saoirse was a college student, independent and entering adulthood. That was how she felt, anyway. Even though she still lived with her parents on the outskirts of Dublin, was still a student… at 18 she felt like entering university was the beginning of womanhood, of adulthood, and she was excited about it. Excited, and terrified.

If she knew a few people on the campus, she was the only one studying English, and the loneliness that came with the new experience of university was adding to her anxiety. She looked around, a little lost but trying to look like she knew where she was going. She was trying to reach her first meeting, this first day being dedicated to integration, an introduction to the life on campus and a quick presentation of the classes they would follow this year. The classes themselves were only starting the following week. This orientation week was focused on the ways of university, on clubs and other useful information for students.

But Saoirse had been on campus for less than ten minutes and she was already feeling overwhelmed, with the small white tents along the lawns that presented clubs for students to join in, with the crowd and its loud chatter pulling her attention in all directions…

All of a sudden, there was another undergraduate student staring down at her, an amused smile on her lips.

“You look lost! Want some help?”

She was wearing a badge from a theatre club, a tired look on her face and an hyper-active glimmer in the eyes that revealed she drank too much caffeine.

“Erm… I’m fine, I just…”

“That’s alright! It’s your first day, you’re allowed to be lost. Let me help! Where is it you’re going?”

“Erm… the English department…”

“Ha, no worries, I’ve got you! I’m an English major too! Come on!”

Before Saoirse could speak another word, this stranger had turned on her heels and was making a bee-line through the crowd. Saoirse followed her the best she could, bumping into students and apologising profusely in the process, until they had reached a second yard that was much calmer. She hurried after her guide, almost running to catch up with her.

“There is the library,” the stranger said, pointing at a large building, a sculpted globe decorating the space before its door. “Note where it is, you’ll spend most of your time there while studying here. And no matter what you do, avoid the tourist attraction around the Book of Kells. Busiest place on campus, and some real chaos over there. This side isn’t as fancy, it’s more concrete and metallic shelves than beautiful wood and carvings, but it’s quiet and withholds all the information you’ll need for your classes. We often see some of our teachers hanging around there too. Who is it you’re gonna have this year?”

“Erm… I’m not quite sure…”

“You should have your schedule during the week. If you can, avoid Mahon and Patterson. They’re not bad teachers, but they are terrible human beings. Proper gobshites the two of them. I heard H-B is teaching about Yeats this year; if you can, take this class, and avoid Mahon’s lecture about science-fiction. Trust me. On paper, it sounds that poetry is harder and more boring, but Mahon is going to reap you apart, when H-B is probably the sweetest teacher at Trinity.”

“H-B?” Saoirse asked, trying to keep up with both the fast pace of her guide and her precious information that she delivered at a relentless speed.

“Hozier-Byrne. Everybody calls him H-B around here, name’s too long. Or just Hozier. Anyway, he’s a sweetheart. He’ll actually care about whether or not you pass his class. Also, he’s got the prettiest mug on campus, so it doesn’t hurt to see him once or twice a week,” she laughed, throwing her head back like a child.

The two girls kept on chatting while they were waiting in the corridor for the meeting to start, and Saoirse tried to get as much information in as she could.

Before leaving, her guide had one last advice.

“Come to the S2S mentoring program this afternoon. I’m part of the mentors, we’ll give you a full tour and help you register for your classes. Also, we’ll help you to find your tutor among the academic staff, to get into a club or society… stuff like that. Oh, the name’s Gabi, by the way! I’m one of the mentors for the English department, so if you want, you can come and find me at the meeting.”

“Thank you so much,” grinned Saoirse.

“Hey, no worries! I used to be a lost freshwoman too, back in the days! You should go in for the boring meeting, General Session… Tomorrow’s meeting about your classes will be more interesting.”

With one last thank you, Saoirse finally entered the room, found a seat, remained silent, not daring to speak with the students around her.

She looked at the blackboard, the desk and chair and microphone for the absent professor.

Fucking hell, she was starting university…

Saoirse listened to Gabi’s advice, looked for the S2S Mentoring meeting, scheduled for 2:30 pm. It was easy to spot the exuberant student, as she laughed with her friends, and she greeted Saoirse with a grin. She followed Gabi’s group for the full tour of the campus, along with a small group of freshmen. She chatted with a couple of them, especially Donal, whose colourful nails and vibrant make-up matched his buoyant personality. They then settled in a large classroom, scattered into small groups and each mentor helped their students with registering for their classes, gave them advices and a little bit of gossip.

Gabi helped Saoirse log into the orientation website and access the right page for her to register to her classes.

“You can change the classes you’ve selected up to the 23rd,” explained Gabi, “and after tomorrow’s meeting with your tutor and the presentation organised by the department, you’ll have a clearer view of what to choose. But you can still take a look now. Also, pay attention to the schedule. You can’t select classes that are happening at the same time. You can select a few classes now already if you want, just to be sure you’ll have a spot.”

Saoirse nodded, went through the list of classes.

On the schedule, the classes about Yeats’s poetry and science-fiction were clashing. She hurried to select the class about poetry, following her mentor’s advice.

She also selected a class about modernism taught by the same Hozier-Byrne, trusting Gabi that it was worth skipping a class about Shakespeare, not that she held much regret about avoiding that class, to be fair. She registered for a class about ‘the use of gender-normative language and patriarchal norms in modern literature’, excited about this class already.

“Erm… sorry…”

She turned towards the student by her side.

“Can you show me how to get into the schedule? I didn’t understand where I should click…”

He looked a little lost, a little overwhelmed, like most people in the room, and certainly as she felt herself. Dark hair, brown eyes. An attempt at a stubble colouring parts of his cheeks.

“Sure!”

She showed him how to log into the schedule, he thanked her, a little shy.

“I’m Sean, by the way.”

She grinned.

“Saoirse.”

He seemed nice, they kept chatting for the rest of the day. She hoped they would have classes in common…

Y/N Y/L/N.

Saoirse read and re-read the name of her tutor. There was a small group of students in the classroom, ready to meet the member of the academic staff who would be in charge of their well-being for the year. Sean was part of the group too, and they sat together on the third row. Donall was there too, he joined them as soon as he spotted Saoirse.

Y/L/N. Saoirse had recognised the name immediately, belonging to the teacher in charge of what seemed to be a very feminist class.

And indeed, when you entered the room, looking tired but benevolent, Saoirse liked you immediately. There was something in the way you spoke that was gentle, patient, that sounded like you actually cared, that you were happy to meet your students, too.

You gave your students some extra-information about their classes, gave them advices depending on the majors they wanted to select for the rest of their degree. You helped them register, you answered their questions. The meeting took longer than expected, but you didn’t seem to mind.

You smiled when you noticed Saoirse had already selected your class.

“Looks like we’ll see each other every week for a couple of months!” you smiled at her and Saoirse was even more excited about your class now.

“Yeah… the class seems very interesting.”

“I’ll do my best to make my babbling interesting, indeed,” you joked, before moving to Sean’s computer to check that he was managing.

And Saoirse had such a good feeling about this year. Things would turn out great, she was certain of it.

You let yourself fall into your office chair, letting out a tired groan. You heard Andrew’s chuckle, but chose not to acknowledge it. His meeting with the students had been a little briefer, he was already in the office when you had come in.

“You’re alright?” he asked, checking on you with an amused smile still tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Exhausted.”

“It was to be expected…”

“Aren’t you exhausted too?”

“I’m on my fifth coffee of the day.”

You laughed at that.

“Hmm… looks like professors are as addicted to coffee as students.”

“It’s standard sleep-deprived diet.”

You looked over at him, and you exchanged a smile.

You weren’t friends, per say. Your break-up had made you more distant, and Andrew’s reaction to his own heartbreak had been to close in on himself. But you still got along, even though you weren’t close. A shame, you kind of regretted that. You could have been closer already, if it weren’t for your pain. Still, you chatted, and he helped you get used to Trinity, and you discussed your classes and his. You simply weren’t more than colleagues, and for now, it was fine. You couldn’t handle getting your heart broken and finding friendship at the same time. Your life was too messy for that. It was easier to build professional boundaries, and Andrew seemed to be in silent agreement. You hadn’t discussed much about your two separations, both preferring for that part of your lives to remain private, and outside the walls of Trinity.

The Heartbreak Department. You had joked about renaming your shared office that way, and Andrew had had no choice but to agree, it was quite on point. Perhaps it was this office, indeed. Maybe it was bringing bad luck, to both of you, when it came to love…

“I can’t wait for the weekend,” Andrew heaved a sigh, rubbing at his eyes before he would readjust his glasses.

“My weekend will be busy, though…”

Indeed, you had agreed to attend a party that Frank was hosting on Saturday night. He said that he had a big announcement to make, and you wondered what he meant by that. Also, his new girlfriend would be there. You hadn’t asked her name, weren’t interested in knowing anything about her, but you wanted to meet her, to see who had stolen your life away. Because that was what you had lost when Frank had left. It wasn’t just a break-up, it wasn’t a simple heartbreak… you had lost a wedding, a life you had planned and thought you would get to live. If you could have forgiven the pain of getting your heart broken, you couldn’t forgive the life that you felt had been stolen from you.

So, you were curious. Also, you were desperate, addicted, and wanted to see Frank, no matter why, where, or when…

“Mine is busy too, but orientation week is a lot.”

“It is, indeed.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, your head thrown back towards the ceiling.

You pictured Frank’s face against your eyelids, and couldn’t imagine that it had been over a month already that he had shattered your whole world…

[iinsertblognamee]

cheers to 20, have a tattoo

summary ― you got your first tattoo

pairing ― sam kerr x reader

warning/s ― fluff, illusions to smut

masterlist & social media au

You loved giving gifts, and the joy on their face as they opened it up. Anniversaries, Christmases, birthdays. You name it. 

Sam and you had both celebrated your 20th birthdays, both nights were filled with friends, a whole lot of alcohol and a killer hangover that followed into the next morning. 

Sam had given you a beautiful photo album of photos of the two of you together, tears welling up as you went through each page. For Sam’s birthday, you wanted to do something special, you got both your families and your friends to help give you ideas but ultimately decided to run with something you came up with a week before her birthday. 

You knew it was going to be hard keeping it away from her, trying everything in your power to ensure the surprise wasn’t ruined. Especially after the two of you had moved into a small one-bedroom apartment a few weeks before. 

The morning of, you woke Sam up with kisses all over her face, a bunch of flowers on her bedside table alongside a card and some wrapped-up football boots she had been eyeing. She let out a small ‘hum’ in agreement as you continued to litter kisses all over her face, a smile on both your faces. 

“Come on baby, you need to wake up so I can give you your presents”. 

A few more minutes pass before she opens her eyes, your smile brightening even more. You didn’t know how you were so lucky. She brought her lips to yours, pulling you closer. You let her take over for a few seconds, before pulling away. 

“Hey. hey. It’s my birthday. You can’t just not give me my birthday kisses” 

Shaking your head at your annoying girlfriend. “You can have kisses later, I wanna see you open your gifts.” 

She lets out a playful groan, rolling her eyes as you move out of her grip and grab the flowers and box placing them in front of her. 

She smells the flowers, a smile on her face, as she looks back at you - kissing you through the flowers. 

“Thank you, baby, I love them” You smile proudly at her confession, putting them back on the bedside table and pushing the box into her lap. You searched through three different Kmarts to find a nice red wrapping paper for her gift, because, of course, you had to wrap it in her favourite colour. 

Never being one to be graceful, she rips the paper off almost throwing the box in the process. The second she caught a glimpse at the shoes a small squeal left her lips, grabbing them out of the box and kissing them over and over again. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” 

“So you like them?” you laugh out, watching her look at the boots from all angles. 

“I’m never wearing another pair of boots again” You laugh once more, Sam pulling you into another kiss as a thank you. 

“I have one more gift for you, but I need you to close your eyes while I get it ready” 

Once you made sure her eyes were closed, you got off the bed and pulled your pj shorts down, standing in just your underwear and one of Sam’s old shirts. You moved the fabric over just a little bit so part of your bum cheek was showing, still a little tender. 

The mirror in the bedroom was positioned so you could still see Sam’s face. 

You felt a little nervous, second guessing if this was a good idea or not but you could see Sam bouncing with excitement. 

“Okay, open your eyes”. Her face freezes the second her sight catches your cheek. The black ink is clear as day. 

You had gotten baby tattooed on your ass, in Sam’s handwriting. Your first ever tattoo. 

She had still not said anything, your lip in between your teeth as you pushed the fabric back over, turning back around. 

“Do-do you like it?” 

She gulps, nodding her head as you walk over to her. 

“When” she pauses for a second “When did you get it done?” 

“Last week when you met up with Maddi” 

She nods her head once, and then again. 

You go to sit back down but she stops you, spinning you around so your ass was direct with her face. You feel her move the fabric, a sharp breath before she runs her finger along it. 

The feeling vibrates across your skin before cold air hits it once again. 

Just when you think she’s had enough you feel her hot breath on your cheek before she gives it a small nibble followed by a kiss. 

“God, that is so hot” she practically moans onto your cheek. 

“I’m glad you like it baby” 

She continues to kiss it, grabbing onto your other cheek so it wasn’t left out. 

And you most certainly were not complaining. 

Later that night at the club every time you would get up to dance or get a drink Sam made sure to keep her hand on your ass, right where the tattoo was. If anyone questioned it they didn’t say it out loud. 

…

You managed to keep the tattoo a secret for a couple of months, Sam smirking every time she would catch your ass just knowing that her handwriting was marking you. Although neither of you cared to remember that the bikini set Sam had gotten you last Christmas was a little revealing. 

The beach day was very much needed, Cyprus reaching tops of 35 degrees - even as an Aussie it was hot. The team decided to head down the beach and soak the day away with some sun and crystal blue water. 

It took no more than thirty seconds before Alanna pointed straight at the tattoo, a squeal leaving her lips. “What is that?” loud enough for the rest of the team to all stare at your ass. It took Sam a few seconds to realise what exactly was happening before she yelled out a “Hey!” and stood in front of your ass to hide it. 

You could see her jaw clenching as the girls didn’t attempt to move their eyes off you, smirks appearing on multiple lips. 

“Since when did Miss L/N have a tattoo?” Caitlin teased, moving her head so she could see past Sam’s body. Sam catches it almost immediately, pulling her towel from off her shoulder and around your body. 

“Since when was it okay for you all to stare at my girlfriend’s ass” Sam bites back, laughter leaving Alanna and Caitlin’s lips. 

“Oh calm down Kerr, we don’t wanna take your girlfriend off you” 

Logically Sam knew this, she’d known these girls for years now and knew they weren’t a threat but at the end of the day, they were all just eye-fucking your ass. Your ass that had her handwriting on it. 

“We’re just curious is all. Y/N has made it very clear that she would never get a tattoo and yet here we are with some very familiar handwriting permanently inked onto our dear friend” 

Sam just shook her head, as she led you a little further away from the rest of the group - placing your towel down, angling herself so she was covering you as she then placed her towel down. You brought your lips to her cheek as you giggled. 

“It’s hot when you get all over-protective, even if it’s against Lana and Caitlin” 

She agrees with a small hum, helping you down to the towel before joining you. 

“Since you like it so much when they point at my mark on you, I guess I can give them something else to point at” 

The next day you had to rush to the pharmacy to find any foundation that would cover the hickeys Sam had so gracefully left on your neck last night. 

Sam was right though, Alanna and Caitlin were more than happy to point at the badly covered-up hickeys with giggles leaving their lips. Didn’t help that Sam overheard them saying “You can thank us later”

[superprincesspea]

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 5 - Cyvasse

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

While the men are hunting, court is held in the queen's private chambers and there is enough cake and gossip to fuel an entire afternoon.  

The cake, you enjoy, but the gossip is all the same. Suitors. Marriage. Betrothals. It's as though the men never left and, the name which far surpasses all others in its frequency, is Aemond.  

The sound of it seems to prick your ears from every direction and, for a moment, you wonder if he enjoys being the most eligible bachelor at court. Except you already know the answer to that. You've never seen him dance or flirt. In fact, the only time you've ever seen Aemond perform for his gaggle of starry-eyed admirers, is that day on the balcony. And you’re not sure if he did it for their benefit, or if it was just a natural result of arrogance and gloating. 

Laughing to yourself, you decide on the latter before reaching for your second raspberry tart. 

Your mother, however, has other ideas. She slides the plate from your grasp and, if that wasn’t bad enough, she also picks up the embroidery hoop which has been idling on your lap for the past twenty minutes.  

"This will need unplucking... again ,” she scolds, handing it back to you with a pair of scissors and a stern look. 

You refrain from rolling your eyes, looking instead at Maris and Cassandra who have almost finished their handkerchiefs. They never have to unpluck anything!  

Why can’t you be more attentive? It would save you so much time in the long run, and your poor thumb wouldn’t be facing another round of pin pricks. With that in mind, you quietly decide that one wonky cornflower will have to do, no matter how much your mother disapproves. 

Afterall, it's not as though you'll be giving this handkerchief as your favour, since you can’t think of a single person who will ask for it.   

So, instead of wasting more time, you wait until your mother is distracted by something Cassandra has said. Then you slip away, taking your hoop and a spool of thread as though you might continue elsewhere.  

Your real destination is the bookcase on the other side of the room, and it's been calling your name since you first arrived.

The closer you get, the easier you can see the dragons carved into the wood just like they are carved into everything else. The walls, the chairs, the stone fireplace. As though anyone in this room could ever forget you were in the lair of the dragons.  

Reaching the bookshelf, you’re excited to see every inch of space is piled high, and some of the volumes look as though they have never even been touched, their spines smooth and their gold embossed lettering in pristine condition.  

There are no new books in Storms End, and you itch to open one. Wanting to smell the fresh ink on crisp parchment and feel the pages beneath your fingertips. But you don’t. You'd hate to be the one who sullies that perfect leather, and these aren’t just anyone’s books, they’re the Queens. So, you reach for an older book, its cover curled at the edges, its pages stained and wrinkled from countless turns.  

Aegon’s Conquest.  

Flicking through the first few chapters, you wonder if Aemond has read it and curse yourself as soon as the thought enters your mind. Wasn't it enough for his name to be in every conversation? Did he really need to creep into your subconscious too? Though you suppose you couldn’t really blame Aemond for that, he wasn’t even here. Still, blaming him felt infinitely better than blaming yourself.  

Replacing the book back onto the shelf, you turn to the window. From here, you can see a perfect view over Blackwater Bay, and it could remind you of home if it wasn’t for the near constant stream of merchant ships. Most of them are small, with only one sail to propel them through the water. But one is much larger, and you count 15 sails in total as it leaves port, its tiny crew standing on deck. 

You wonder where they're going, who they carry, and just how exciting it would be to sail away to some strange and exotic place like Braavos or Volantis. 

When you can’t make out the people onboard the ship any longer, you turn your attention to the Cyvasse board. You’ve never seen one like this before, its pieces carved from ivory and jade instead of black and white.  

You reach to pick up the green dragon and its heavier than it looks, the stone perfectly smooth and the carving intricately detailed. It almost feels as though it might spark to life in the palm of your hand, which leads you to wonder just how small real dragons are when they’re born.  

You'd never thought much of dragons before but, here , they are everywhere. Carved, embroidered, painted and prowling the halls in black leather.  

Holding the piece closer to the window, the tiny green gems of its eyes glow brightly in the sunlight, and again you’re thinking of Aemond . You’ve never seen what lies beneath the black patch across his scar, but you know it's a gem and wonder of its colour. Green like the tiny dragon in your hand, or blue like his eye.  

Cursing yourself again for not only thinking of Aemond but knowing the precise shade of blue which makes up his eye, you place the dragon back on the board then reach to investigate another piece- 

"Do you play?” A voice startles you, and you glance over your shoulder to see Queen Alicent standing directly behind you. 

“Your Grace,” you gasp, turning to face her and offering a somewhat awkward curtsy.  

What was it about this family which always seemed to catch you by surprise?  

“I said, do you play?” 

“A little.” And not as well as you would like. Cyvasse partners were not frequent in the Hall of Storms End and, if they were, most people didn’t want to play with a girl.  

“Then sit,” she says, gesturing towards the ivory side of the board.  

For a moment, you don’t move. Was this really happening? Were you really going to play Cyvasse with the queen? The whole thing seemed so unlikely to the girl you were a few months ago, yet it was happening just the same.  

You force your legs to move, sitting opposite her but not without casting a weary look towards your family. But its only Maris who seems to notice what is happening and, when you smile, she does not return it. 

“Your sisters seem to have become quite close friends with Helaena,” the Queen says, drawing your attention back to her. 

“The Princess is very kind,” you reply sweetly, thinking your mother would be pleased with your answer. But more pleased to hear you had not gone on to say, ‘unlike your son.’  

The queen doesn’t reply and there’s a comfortable silence as you both arrange your Cyvasse pieces into your preferred starting positions.  

You know it will be your turn first, but you’re not sure what piece to play. You don't want to appear too aggressive or too careful. You want something surprising, thoughtful. Though you suppose none of that really matters, since your only real hope is that she won’t beat you too quickly.  

You move the Light Horse. 

“Are you enjoying your time in Kings Landing?” she asks, contemplating her own move for longer than you would have imagined. 

“It is... everything I expected it to be.” 

“Quite the political answer,” she says, sliding her Rabble two spaces forward.  

Your aunt always played her Rabble in the same way. As a result, your second move is a little quicker and the queens is too. You both play four more turns before there is a longer pause while she considers her options. 

“I noticed you looking at the books, you may borrow one, if you wish,” she says, falling into the trap you’ve been baiting. 

Your heart quickens, excited. “Thank you, your grace,” you say, sliding your Dragon to capture her Elephant.  

For her move, she claims a Trebuchet, and you bite your lip, frustrated by your mistake.  

“A good Cyvasse player must notice everything, ” she says and, maybe she’s talking about the game, but there’s something in her tone which causes you to meet her eye and wonder why she has noticed you .  

The room is filled with other ladies. Ones who crave her company, one’s who she’s known for years and most with stations far higher than yours. Still, you don’t ask her why. You play your next move and, more than thirty moves later, the Queen wins.  

You’re not surprised by her victory. It's been almost a year since your last game, which is a good enough excuse, yet you hate to lose just the same.   

“You play very well but you should practice more,” she says, and you enjoy her praise far more than you’d care to admit.  

"Thank you, your grace but my family does not play,” you reply, knowing instantly that Maris, who has not stopped staring, would hate you for saying this.  

If the queen wanted Cyvasse, then Maris would practice until her fingers bled, even if she despised every moment of the game. 

“Then meet me tomorrow, after breakfast, in the garden.”  

This is not a request, nor does she wait for an answer or even stay in the room. She’s done with court and leaves you and the rest of the ladies to finish the afternoon alone.  

Later, when you should be sleeping, Maris sneaks into your room, sitting at the bottom of your bed with her hair in rags. 

“What did you talk about with the Queen?” she asks, and you know she’s been desperate to ask you this all evening.  

“Nothing really, we just played.” 

“Urgh...” she falls back dramatically on the bed. “I’ve been trying to get her to notice me for weeks and you spend one afternoon with her and-” she sits back up, frowning, “it's not fair!” 

“You try too hard.” 

“Well , you don’t try at all.” 

She wasn’t wrong. If anything, you were trying to stay out of the way. But you supposed aloof was noticeable when everyone wanted centre stage. Perhaps if you were livelier, you’d be less visible. Like you were those first two weeks at court.  

“I envy you,” she says, reaching to brush away the hair which has fallen onto your cheek. “You are the third daughter which is even worse than being the second, but you don’t care. I wish I didn’t care.” 

“Then don’t,” you smile, taking her hands in yours and holding them tightly. “Starting now, no more caring about what anyone thinks.” 

She returns your smile, and you both know that what you’ve said is an impossible task for someone like Maris. She cares about everything and everyone. Still, neither of you say it.  

Instead, you scoot over in the bed and pull back the covers for her to climb in beside you. You haven't slept together like this since you were little girls, but the excitement you feel is just the same. Sometimes you would stay up all night, talking, telling stories and daring each other to sneak down the hall to bang on Septa Orella's door. Maris would never do it, but you could never resist.  

Blowing out the candle, you both snuggle into the quilt, lying face to face, arms tucked under pillows and eyes still not quite heavy enough for sleep.  

“There is one person I care about...” she whispers in the dark. 

“Who?” 

“Aemond, of course,” she says as if this is common knowledge, yet it is not common to you. 

"You don’t even know him,” you say, hating the tone in your voice. So judgemental, so accusatory.  

“What is there to know?” 

What is there to know about a man you care for? You scoff, its times like these when you realise just how different you are from her. 

“How about his manner? His interests? His passions?” Or the way he might mercilessly tease a person for the rest of their life. Which leads you to the terrible realisation that, if Maris marries Aemond, then you will never be rid of him.  

“You are quite the secret romantic,” she says, laughing softly. "Ladies do not marry men for their interests, and I do know him. He is a Prince of the realm and Helaena has told me he is the kindest and most gentle brother.” Her voice turns so whimsical at the last part that you can’t help but snort. 

“Helaena is hardly going to tell you that he is ungentlemanly, exasperating and completely incapable of-” you stop yourself.  

What exactly were you going to say next? Incapable of forgetting a certain day on the beach?  

You swallow your words, but Maris presses for more. "Incapable of what ?”  

“Smiling ,” you say quickly, except that isn't true. You've seen him smile plenty of times. Heard his infuriating laughter too. Yet Maris agrees with you.  

“You’re right, he never really seems to smile but I can hardly hold that against him.” 

“You don’t hold anything against anyone,” you remind her.  

“Well, you hold everything against everyone . You know we are all wondering why Ser Harrold does not ask you to dance anymore...” her tone is playful, as though she assumes the whole thing is by your design and you don’t refute her. 

“Ser Harrold is a fool.” 

You can practically hear the roll of her eyes. "Is there a single man you don’t despise?” 

“Of course,” you say, keeping your tone even and entirely serious. “I don’t despise, Lord Henry.” 

Maris giggles so loudly you’re certain she will wake the entire keep. “He is a cat!” 

“And much more amiable than the men at court,” you say, trying desperately to hold onto your own giggles. But Maris’ laughter is so infectious that you’re both forced to cover the quilt over your head to smother the sounds.  

When you come up for air, you don’t tell her you’re playing Cyvasse with the Queen in the morning. In fact, you don’t tell anyone, and for someone who is trying to steer clear of unwelcome company, you’re doing a terrible job.  

~~~~

Thank you for all your lovely comments, likes and reblogs on the previous chapters! <3

[mirasantidotes]

Messy Annotations - Chapter 1

(GIFs not mine)

Read chapter 2 here

Summary: You meet Javi at your local library and notice he's reading your favorite book. You two hit it off and spend your day together, just talking and getting to know each other before you spend the night at his house on accident.

Character: Javi Gutierrez (TUWOMT)

Content Warnings: very ooc!javi, shy!javi, sunshine!reader, reader has wavy hair, reader lives in spain, very fluffy, reader's love language is touch, implied slight age gap (reader is in their 30s), can be read platonically or romantically, a LOT of blushing (a little too much), reader goes to college later in life, HUGE bookworm!reader, no use of y/n. Let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Thank you for your notes and compliments on Dance With Me; it means a lot! Also, just send an ask/comment and tell me if you'd like a part 2 to this, I had a lot of fun writing it, and I have a few ideas already for a part 2. If you have any other ideas for fanfics, my asks are open for requests! I hope you all enjoy this; it took me forever to get done, and I had an insanely hard time coming up with how I wanted this fic to turn out. The struggle was totally worth it though; this is probably one of my favorite fics I've written!

All of my posts with an * in the title contain smut, or mentions of it. Minors DNI.

(Divider by saradika)

Living in Spain has been one of your biggest dreams, and you finally moved here for college abroad to work on your infuriating art major, even though you feel like you’re a little old for college now that you’re in your 30s. You’re an underground artist, and you’re just itching to get your work out there to be noticed by the public. You’re an absolute ball of sunshine, and to be fair, you’re the most energetic and outgoing person you know, but, you don’t really know too many people in Spain yet, but that’s beside the point. You really are energetic, though— almost too much. There is one thing that you’re always excited about though, no matter what— reading. Finding new books to binge-read in one sitting is always one of your favorite activities when you have free time. The library cashier is extremely tired of you coming in every week. 

Javi Gutierrez, on the other hand, is the polar opposite of you. He’s a shy, new up-and-coming actor who doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life after the success of his first movie. Though fame is finding him well, much more than anticipated, he doesn’t particularly want to make another movie quite yet, now that his co-star, Nic Cage, has left Spain. Even with his newfound fame, he still enjoys going out and doing activities he enjoys, which mainly include going to the local library. He prefers reading in a library than in his own house, alone. He likes the atmosphere the library gives him, but most of all, he loves tucking himself away strategically in the corner of the library window, so he can look out and see the bustling streets of people living their everyday lives. 

On a Friday afternoon, you have some free time to yourself, and you, of course, decide to head to your local library. You never go on Fridays— your typical day off is Sunday, but today was different; today was a professor work day at your college, so you had no classes or any assignments to complete, meaning you could spend your whole day reading. You walk into the library happily, as always. The smell of the ink bled into the pages of hundreds of books filled your lungs— a scent you thoroughly enjoyed. You finally pick out a new book that you’ve been eyeing, having heard good things about it online and from the people in your college. 

Even though you got what you came for, you couldn’t walk into a library and buy just one book— no, you had to buy at least 5 every time you came in. After picking out your books, you waltz to the cashier, who already appeared annoyed at you being there. A strict, slightly older woman— always had an attitude, but that didn’t let you stop being your energetic, bubbly self to her. “You know, you still need to return the other 10 books, right?” she says, sternness filling her tone. 

“Yeah, yeah! I know; I’ll bring them all back next time I come!” you say, smiling widely, setting the books down on the counter. The woman simply rolls her eyes at your response, knowing you’d be back in a few days and she’d have to deal with you again. After she scans the books, the woman tells you, “Your total is going to be €15.75.” €15.75… you think. You only brought €15— you sigh in response; the woman before you, never having heard that sound come out of you, and looked at you like you had 3 heads planted firmly upon your shoulders. You searched your pockets and purse but had no change.

“It’s just 75 cents. Can’t you let it pass this once?” You plead but to no avail. The woman shakes her head harshly, muttering something about ‘library rules,’ but you were too disappointed by her head shake to take care of what she said. You sigh once more— looking around the library; surely somebody would be willing to give you a dollar, right? Right? 

You feel increasingly upset the longer you look through the library aisles for someone to ask until your eyes finally land on a gentleman wearing a mustard-colored shirt full of wrinkles. He was sitting in a corner, away from everything, with his legs planted on a footrest and his face hiding behind a book. You hold your finger up to the cashier, signaling for her to wait as she sighs in response. You walk up to the man, “Hey! I hate to ask you this, but I was just checking out, and I’m 75 cents short. Do you mind? It’s okay if not—” you say quickly, trying not to seem too over the top. 

The man lowers his book, and a shy pink rose upon his cheeks while nodding slowly. “Um yeah, sure,” he whispers, almost inaudible, as he shifts himself in his seat and reaches into his jeans pocket for some change. He pulls a €5 bill from his pockets and raises his hand for you to take it before settling back into his seat. 

You take the bill from between his fingers, grinning brightly— “Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver,” you say, full of enthusiasm. A soft smile washes over the man’s face before nodding, his cheeks still showing a light rose color. You turn on your heel and rush back to the cashier, proudly waving your money in the air. After checking out, the cashier hands you your change, and you grab your books. Before you leave, you turn back and walk toward the man again. He seemed to have heard you coming and had lowered his book just enough to see you already standing there. “Hey again, thank you for lending me some money. Here’s the change!” you say, holding the money out to him, close enough for him to reach it. The man lowers his book into his lap, smiling softly, takes the money from your grasp, and messily pushes the money back into his jeans. 

You finally catch a glimpse of the man's entire face, his curly brown hair complimenting his tanned skin and the patchy stubble on his face. You grow curious and look into the man’s lap to see what book he’s reading— and to your surprise, it’s your favorite book ever. “Oh my God,” you exclaim, a little too loud for a library, startling the man slightly and causing him to look at you. After adjusting your tone accordingly,  you continue— “that’s my favorite book!” 

His face lights up brightly, “Really? That’s awesome,” he enthuses, yelling in a whisper. Just for a moment, he’s brought out of his shy state. He adjusts his position again, sitting forward in his seat and removing his feet from the footrest. “I’ve loved this book since it came out,” he continues, “I’ve never met anyone else who likes it.” 

“Yeah, all the books from this author are really good! I especially love this one, though,” you finish, smiling as you sit on the footrest in front of the man, hugging your new books to your chest. The man, shy once more, becomes flustered until “Hey, I was thinking of going to the coffee shop down the street. Do you wanna come with?” you say, tilting your head to the side. 

The man’s eyes widened, with even more heat rising into his cheeks— another thing they had in common; coffee. “Yeah, of course,” he enthuses, breaking eye contact just enough to stand up out of his seat while grabbing his bag and placing his book inside of it, “I love that place!” he finishes as he puts the bag messily around his shoulder, looking back at you. He looks down at the books you’re holding in your arms, and as you stand up, he asks, “Do you wanna put your books in my bag? So you don’t have to hold them—” he says softly.

“Yeah, sure! Just don’t steal them for yourself,” you joke, making yourself chuckle before handing him your books. The man blushes at your words, taking the books from your hands and placing them all inside his bag. The two of you walk out of the library, and you wave to the cashier as you leave; she, of course, didn’t wave back. As the two of you walk towards the coffee shop, you get lost in conversation about your favorite books. The walk was the same distance it always was, but with the man walking with you, it felt a lot shorter than usual. 

Just as you reach the shop, you stop suddenly. You hadn’t asked the man his name, nor had he asked you. “I forgot to ask, what’s your name?” you say, turning to him, smiling nervously. 

“Javi,” he says, his rich, deep voice rings through your ears. A soft laugh escapes your mouth, full of nervousness as you tell the man your name, him joining your chuckles soon after. The two of you sit at one of the tables placed by a window. 

The two of you gush over your newfound subjects in common— a not-so-known favorite author and coffee. What could be better? The two of you spend well over an hour hogging up the coffee table, just getting to know each other, until a worker comes and tells you that you have to leave if you aren’t going to buy anything else. The two of you are already so strung out on coffee you both know either of you doesn’t need any more in your system. “Hey, do you wanna come over to my house for a little bit?” Javi asks, “You don’t have to, obviously; I know we just met and—” 

You spring your head up at his words; you’ve been having a lot of fun talking to Javi so far; what could it hurt? “Of course!” you interrupt his concerned rambling. He simply smiles in return, picking up the bag under his seat as he stands up. The two of you walk to the door of the coffee shop, “I walked here from my house, so it’s a bit of a walk—” he says, as he opens the door for you to walk out, “I hope that’s okay,” he finishes as he walks out behind you, closing the door. 

“Yeah, that’s alright!” you say excitedly as the two of you start walking toward’s Javi’s house. Obviously, you don’t go to random people’s houses like this, but Javi felt— different. He felt trustworthy, considerate, and loving. You’re brought out of your thoughts while on the way there as you spot a flower field to the left of you. You stop walking to look at the view for a moment, Javi noticing almost immediately. He turns back to face you, a slight smile planted on your face. You’ve never been to this area of Spain before, and already, it’s so much more beautiful than where you currently dwell. 

Javi looks for a moment at your wavy hair, lightly being blown in the sunset’s wind, the sun glowing brightly in the backdrop of you, lighting illuminating your features. As he realizes he’s been staring, he clears his throat and fixes his shirt before stepping toward you. Just as he reaches your side, you look at him. “It’s beautiful,” you declare, still looking at the field. Javi looks at you and nods, “Yeah, it is.” before turning his head to look where your eyes were fixated. Suddenly, you interlink your arm with his, tugging at him to follow you into the field. “Come on, let’s pick some flowers,” you say, excitement filling your body, with a slight red washing across your face as you unlink your arm, running your hand down to hold his, as you turn around to face him while walking backward as laughter fills the air. Javi blushes at the sight of you for what seems like the millionth time today— as you two reach relatively far from the path you were previously walking, you let go of Javi’s hand, your body missing his touch.

You bend down near a patch of red carnations, picking a flower and lifting it to your nose, smelling the sweet yet subtle clove-like scent and letting it fill your body, making you feel warm inside. You stand back up and turn around to see Javi standing behind you, hands in his pockets with the corners of his lips upturned softly, causing gentle wrinkles to form around his dark-colored eyes. You walk up to him and place the flower behind his ear, letting his soft curls hug around the stem to hold it in place— light pink creeps up his neck and onto his cheeks once more. 

You giggle at his face, full of awe— you break your gaze from his kind face enough to look up into the sky, causing Javi to do the same. You notice it’s getting late, and just as you’re about to say you should get going to Javi’s house, he speaks, “It’s getting late; we should hurry before it gets too dark,” his deep voice with his rich accent echoing through your ears as if honey had a sound— making your cheeks flush. 

You simply nod in agreement while holding your hand out for him to take it. He has to look back between your hand and your face a few times before finally taking it in his own, making a few soft chuckles escape your mouth, causing him to do so too. After about 20 minutes of walking, the bright orange rays shining behind you slowly disappear until finally reaching it’s end, and the lightness of the moon begins peeking out from the horizon. The two of you reach Javi’s home, and God— was it beautiful. You wouldn’t admit it, but you felt slightly jealous while walking into his pristine villa home when you’re reminded of your small college dorm.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” he asks, breaking the non-awkward silence the two of you had throughout your walk. 

“Sure! Water’s fine,” you reply happily, looking at all of the knick-knacks Javi had littered throughout his home. Javi returns with your water in hand, nearly running to get back to you. 

After handing it to you, he speaks up, “Do you wanna go sit on the couch— or?” he says, his voice laced with a sort of sweetness that makes your body tingle. You nod in response, taking a sip from your water. Javi guides you to his living room; the large room before you opens up as he turns on moody, orange lights that remind you of the sunset you saw a mere hour ago. It feels homey— welcoming, and warm. Something you don’t experience at your own college house. Javi walks over to the couch, covered in soft blankets and a few pillows, and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. You follow closely behind, sitting close to him, your knees almost brushing against each other as you sink into your seat. 

Javi hums as if he’s forgotten something essential and stands up without saying anything. He disappears into the other room, leaving you there. After a few moments, he returns— an old worn book in his hands. “This is one of my favorite books,” he says, sitting back down next to you, “I want you to read it,” he finishes softly, looking at you while motioning for you to take it. You oblige— surprisingly, it’s a book you’ve never read, so of course, you’d be willing. You open the book to the first page, glancing at it, then turning over a few pages before running your fingers through each and every page, noticing messily written notes and scribbles written out into the worn margins. You absolutely adore annotated books, and it’s one of your favorite pastimes, besides actually reading the book in the first place. 

You let a few chuckles escape your mouth as you look up to see Javi’s relieved expression grow on his face after your silence. You reach over to hug him quickly, causing him to laugh too, his hand resting on your upper back. You pull away, returning your attention to the book, positioning yourself cross-legged before him, sinking into your seat even more. “Can I read it now?” you ask, smiling, still not looking at him but skimming the first page's notes. 

“Of course,” he says simply, smiling. You start reading immediately— resting your head on the side of the couch. You point out a few rather silly remarks he’s written down on the first page, causing you both to giggle. You spend well over an hour just reading the pages of the book, occasionally engaging in a conversation about what you’re reading, Javi being just as fascinated with it as you are, if not more which makes you chuckle. After a while, a “Can I lay my head on your lap?” escapes your mouth, looking at Javi for consent. He nods as his face heats up, and you lay down, the book above your face, as you two still talk about the notes he’s made and the careless actions the main character makes in the book. 

About halfway through the book, you hear Javi’s stomach grumble something mean, causing you to laugh. “You hungry?” you ask sarcastically, looking at him, letting a few more chuckles escape your mouth. You receive a nod as he joins in on your laughter, a slight tint of embarrassment hidden within as he hides his face behind his hands. You lift your head off his lap, setting the book down on the couch, not leaving the page you left off on. “You should eat,” you say softly. 

“Yeah,” he pauses, thinking. “Do you want some cake? That’s what I’m going to have,” he finishes, looking over at you, eyes glistening in the light’s warm tones that fill the room. 

You smile, “That sound’s perfect!” you say, nodding. He stands up, whispering a quiet ‘okay’ sound before disappearing into the other room once more before returning a few minutes later with two plates, each with red velvet cake and a napkin on each. You let out a small squeak at the sight, making your mouth water slightly at the richly flavored cake. As you two are eating, Javi finishes rather quickly, and you notice frosting on his face he doesn’t seem to notice. You pick up your napkin to wipe it off, his cheeks turning visibly red, as does yours, the both of you gigging. 

Once you finish your cake, you set both plates down on the coffee table, along with the book, and lay your head back down on his lap. “Wanna watch some TV?” you ask, looking up at his face and into his eyes as he meets yours. 

“Sure thing,” he says, nodding while looking down at your face before reaching for the remote to turn on the TV. After an hour of watching the show, you fall asleep, head still resting in his lap. He notices shortly after when he hears the soft snores that escape your mouth, which is slightly agape. He smiles at the sight, lowering his hand down to brush some of the hair out of your face. He feels your cold skin and grabs the blanket from behind you that was messily thrown over the couch’s back, and lays it over your body, causing you to stir slightly in your sleep. He lowers the volume of the TV so as to not wake you up.

Shortly after, he looks down at your sleeping state, whispering a light "Goodnight, hermosa (beautiful)," before he leans back onto the couch deeper, sighing contently, before falling asleep for the night, with you in a deep sleep on his lap.

[kamesama]

fushiguro tōji, gojō satoru, nanami kento & ryōmen sukuna as aesthetics

fushiguro tōji.

an average male cologne; the smell of a basic aftershave. thick grey clouds as a prelude to a storm. cracks in the concrete with weeds growing out of them. smoke. salty, savoury aromas upon one's tongue. olive green. worn-out slippers by the front door, waiting for their wearer to come home. cigarette lit in the dead of night. cool breeze; the type that plants a sense of discomfort. last moments of gloom before dawn proceeds to crawl across the heavens. a vivid, haunting memory. an empty jar of savings. a lucky coin residing in one's ancient wallet. faded photographs filled to the brim with nostalgia. comfort of one's bed at 10:21 am.

gojō satoru.

a thick blanket of snow outside the window, first thing seen in the morning. white chocolate. shimmering blue eyeshadow. a single strike of lightning; bright and unexpected. scentless lip-balm applied over chapped lips. eggplant purple. silk. twisted books with twisted endings; hard to grasp and understand. feeling muscles pulling at the corners of the mouth. the haunting, accursed inability to reach a sense of satisfaction. marshmallows. heartbeat increasing rapidly in the heat of excitement. personal and oddly specific nicknames. expensive perfumes. sizzling champagnes and vip lounges. judging eyes following every step. curious knowledge of trivial things.

nanami kento.

black coffee. comfort of warm bread. sound of pages being turned. fatigue dragging down the eyelids. distilled water used for ironing. steam. brown leather. ticking of a clock. solace found in solitude. extravagant living rooms. kitchen gadgets. vanilla. blue skies and harmless stray clouds dissolving across the azure. saltwater. sunlight shattering over the ocean waves. daydreams of joys that never come. yearning. thick, strong roots of a mighty tree. jazz. items organised by colour or size. salt and pepper. animal prints. being needed. twenty-minute power naps. fountain pen stored in its extravagant coffin never to be used. utterly simple thing engraved on the bottom of a watch.

ryōmen sukuna.

cherry cola. magma. black holes and comets. natural disasters. malevolent mythological creatures. hot springs. remnant of tradition still drawing breath. short poems. full moon. thick ink spilling all over. calligraphy. starving roar of thunder; lightning strike splitting heavens. keen eye. dark piano. abandoned mansions. cracks in walls like veins. blunt truths. pomegranates. cobwebs. false promises and sweetened lies. fans. bold but refined pull at biwa's strings. armageddon. dreamless slumber. a single pebble stirring calm water surface. spider lilies. symbolisms. battlegrounds littered with sacrifice. insatiable thirst. rubies on silver.

thank you for reading!

— kamesama.

[brokoala-soup]

I think my aesthetic might be something along the lines of cottagecore and light academia with a tinge of Studio Ghibli and bits and pieces of chaotic academia. So this includes:

classical music blaring out of cheap speakers, homemade food served in reused takeout containers, half dying houseplants in everything but traditional flower pots, the fragrance of jasmine and mint, mirrors reflecting sunlight on to disorganised bookshelves with the most random collection of books, soups in glassware, gel pen doodles all over my notes, herbal teas in whiskey glasses, locally sourced incense sticks, handmade woolen blankets over commercially sold quilts, baking granola bars on a lazy sunday afternoon, adding chocolate to literally everything, mid day naps when the weather is cloudy yet humid, ribbon ties instead of stapler pins, making my own spice powders, scented oil lamps, being obsessed with cloves, sleeping on a bed full of pillows only to find over half of them on the floor next morning, missing alarms because closing my eyes for two more seconds won't make me fall asleep again, picking flowers and herbs from the garden, sleepy afternoons, careful skincare but with the most day to day products, eucalyptus oil, use and throw inhalers to deal with my anxiety because the smell of menthol calms me down, short nails and neutral manicure, smelling like flowers one day and like the sea the other, getting excited whenever I spot the moon, absolutely in awe and in love with the clouds because they're amazing and so creative, puppies, calligraphy using ball pens, homemade mocha latte using soya milk, my grandma's childhood earrings that I wear all the time, newspapers, organic vegetables sold by retired social workers, tote bags, reusable metal water bottles, hot showers and cold rinses, using my grandmother's favorite brand of soap because I love smelling like her, herbal hair oil, smelling like sandalwood, cooking pasta with the family, reading secondhand books, collecting fused light bulbs, pencil underlines, postcards, 1 am poetry, pop instrumentals and pensive journaling, benzene rings on page margins, berry flavoured cough syrup, baking bread, long walks, loud conversations, thrifting, e-books, chocolate wrappers hidden between dictionary pages, colourful periodic table prints, plushies, honey, fleece blankets, sleeping cats, signet ring, dried rose I'd bought for myself and carried around like a trophy travelling back home with it in the public bus, twinning perfumes coincidentally with my best friend, vintage looking brand new ink pen and expired ink, sticky notes with motivational quotes covering my wall, never buying perfumes and only using the ones I'm gifted, random words that remind me of niche incidents or memories written along the corners of my study material, pearl jewelry set that my dad gifted my mom but it's me who wears it now, combat boots bought at ¼th it's price at a discount clearance sale, all my jackets being bought from different countries by my dad and thus each serving as a token of memory, lipstick shades that match only extremely specific vibes and look off and odd at other times, cherry lip balm stick that I've used only twice, daily calendar sheets reused as a notepad, birthday candles from my 16th birthday sitting on my work table, the lingering smell of multiple beverages in my room because I seldom wash the cups I drank them from and now they're cluttered all over the room, hand me down luxury watches older than me, chipped nailpolish, reminders written down on tissue papers, bus tickets all over my bag, sugar-free chewing gum, deodorant that never washes off my clothes, wearing clothes purchased 5 years ago and getting compliments simply because it's not trendy but is unique, mini origami cranes, rose sprays, lychee scented sanitizer, baking bread at home on weekends, homemade hair masks, turning up late because i was busy enjoying life walking through the eucalyptus grove on the way to class, running to the station yet missing the train, all my everyday ornaments having a deeper meaning to me.

[mildewymolars]

Even Skeletons Are Scared Of What’s Inside My Closet (Hazbin Hotel Fanfic) Chapter 1

Summary:

A classic take on the "Alastor gets summoned by a human" trope. It also includes nostalgic little cliches like weird aunts, the middle child being the "black sheep" of the (rich) family and demons being as bad (but also not) as they seem.

A college student, who’s bored out of their mind, finds their whacky aunt Hilda’s old book of the occult. After that chaos ensues.

(English is not my first language so feel free to point out any grammatical errors)

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

As far as my day-to-day existence goes, I think I’ve entered a whole new territory. Two weeks ago, I thought it would be a be a good idea to play around with my aunt Hilda’s ancient book of the occult. As far as weird aunts go, she entered and surpassed new territories before I was even born. This book is a monstrous old thing, heavy as bricks, and suspiciously well-used. Now, I am by no means an expert in the realm of the occult, but I do dabble in it every now and then. Well, two weeks ago, I must’ve dabbled too thoroughly. Spells, musty smells, and, in the end, hell’s bells.

 

At first, everything in that book seemed as I had expected it to. Not too believable. That was until I stumbled upon a few handwritten pages shoved between an explanation of astral projection and the precautions one should take while using Ouija boards. I wasn’t sure whose handwriting it was—definitely not Aunt Hilda’s. On the page, there was what looked like a sketch of the layout of our attic with a messily scribbled egg (?) somewhere behind my grandmother’s old wardrobe. What caught my eye next was this: The words “Turn the dial, but with a smile” were written at the bottom of the page, the ink already fading.

 

Being the nosy person I am, of course, I had to make my way up to the attic as quickly as possible. To my surprise, there was actually something behind that behemoth of a wardrobe. A suitcase. A suitcase that looked like someone had put their blood, sweat, and tears into sealing. Although now all of that tape was dry and brittle, so I did manage to get it open eventually. What lay inside surprised me even more. A radio, from somewhere between the 20s and the 30s, a relic really. A bit dusty, but in good condition. And so, without thinking much of it, I turned that damn dial (with a small, anticipatory smirk).

 

What happened next was…nothing. I almost laughed at myself for getting excited. Still, I decided to stay in the attic for the next 4 hours, sorting through all the other peculiarities stashed away there (who knew Uncle Heinrich used to be an avid fan of African tribal masks?). Then suddenly (at a quarter past midnight, funnily enough), I heard a deafening thump, making me freeze, the hairs on my neck sticking up like wires. It came from the wardrobe. I turned around, slowly, very slowly. Only to see nothing had changed. Of course every good horror movie main character would now whisper, “What was that?” and then, ignoring all obvious signs of alarm, go check out whatever made that noise. Which was sort of, as astonishingly stupid as it may have been, what I did.

 

Of course, I didn’t whisper dramatically; I just edged along the creaking floorboards, muscles tensed, with the initial intention of leaving the wardrobe behind and reaching that sweet promise of safety: the door. That was until I noticed the faint green glow coming from within the gargantuan piece of furniture. What I also noticed was that the pressure on my ears wasn’t solely the result of adrenaline. Apparently, I had somehow blocked out the low, steady hum of static filling the air. Oh, now I was really in for it.

 

Bracing myself, I teetered towards the wardrobe, mentally saying goodbye to Pastor Joe and telling him I should’ve listened. As my hand slowly found a steady grip on one of the carved wooden handles, a wheezing cough almost caused me to jump out of my skin. The door creaked open, and for a moment there was only silence, suffocating silence—the quiet before the storm. To my horror and morbid fascination, a glowing pair of crimson eyes materialized in the pitch-black interior of the wardrobe. By their placement, I could tell whoever or whatever they belonged to was over a foot taller than me. Then a voice rang clear through the silence.

 

“Now, this has not happened in a very long time.”

 

It sounded shockingly human, slightly nasal even, if engulfed in a thick layer of... radio static?

At that point, my shaky breaths had turned into shallow pants.

I could’ve sworn I heard bones cracking as the entity stepped out of the wardrobe and into the dim light provided by the moon and a small window. It was a thing, a man, a creature. Although far from human, I wanted to run or sprint, but something kept me glued to the floor.

The thing was impressively tall, and undeniably repulsive, with what looked like deer ears and a pair of tiny antlers sprouting out of its mop of disheveled curls. Its gaze was cold yet strangely attentive. A huge, malicious grin split its face in half, brimming with razor-sharp, crooked fangs. Now the rest of it was truly something else. A neck of uncomfortable length stuck out from between shoulders that looked oddly narrow. Looking down for a moment, I noticed that the thing was rather fat. Not in a beefy, intimidating way (it was still PLENTY intimidating), though, more leaning towards plain overfed. The creature's stomach jutted out alarmingly, like an inflated balloon, noticeably wider at the bottom. Legs, too long to be those of a human, plumped up in the thigh area. Its arms, which were also uncannily long, looked too thin for its body. For a demon (assuming that’s what it was), the creature was shockingly well dressed. A tattered tailcoat, shirt, waistcoat, and some slacks adorned its form, all at least a size or two too small (especially the waistcoat). Hell, it even had a bow tie. Suddenly, the thing cleared its throat.

 

“Staring at strangers is a little rude, don’t you think?”

The MC, Bartholomew (Barty) Dankworth

[kookaburra-laugh]

I read that in 2022 - OFMD Edition

2022 brought a new fandom to fall into, and fall i did. on this second day of 2023 i bring recs for our favorite gay disaster pirates

the knife and the throat by darcylindbergh @forpiratereasons rated E | 35k+ words (ongoing)

Red sky at morning, sailor's warning.

Blackbeard hadn’t been lying when he'd said he didn’t feel fear. Fear was about having something to lose, and Blackbeard always wins.

Turning Tides by Fyre @amuseoffyre rated M | 81k words

My speculative S2 of Our Flag Means Death. Featuring everyone :)

the undersell of the century. perfectly captures the vibe of the show. season 2 while we wait for season 2

Storm Surge by Fyre @amuseoffyre rated M | 62k words

A speculative S3 of Our Flag Means Death, following on directly from the events of Turning Tides, my speculative S2.

kept me on the seat of my chair the whole way though. what an amazing follow up

inhale (exhale) by the_moonmoth @themoonmothwrites rated E | 898 words

"You've seriously never?" he asks, subtly guiding Stede back towards his bed.

"Well it's not exactly the kind of thing respectable people get up to," Stede explains, abashed.

"Not exactly respectable anymore, are you?"

The Art of Buggery by summerofspock @summerofspock rated E | 1k words

“Just fucking–” Ed wriggles around on the small mattress in the captain’s quarters and tries to grab Stede’s hand but somehow grabs a tit. Stede squeaks and slaps him away. “Just fucking put it in.”  

Ed and Stede give it a go.

a silly bit of buggery

in the margins by weatheredlaw @weatheredlaw rated T | 3k words

At this stage of his life, it’s important for him to realize nothing exciting will ever happen to him. That he is too old for spontaneity, but too young still to die. He reads a book about pirates. His namesake occasionally appears. Stede feels a kinship with him that goes beyond the name and the page, grips him like a vise and won’t let go.

or: Ed and Stede choose each other in this life. And the next. And the next. And the next.

on the bed of this blue ocean by kirkaut @kirkaut rate T | 9.5k words

Ed’s made up his mind: if he ever lays eyes on Stede fucking Bonnet again, he’s a dead man.

Ed’s had six months of Stedeless-ness, and six months of thinking about all the terrible things he’d do to him when they saw each other again.

Somehow, it never occurred to him to think that they’d never have the chance.

love a good chartreuse by FortinbrasFTW @fortinbrasftw rate G | 3k words

In which Stede has a pitbull named Venny, Ed has a terrier named Cat, and it's a lovely spring day in Washington Square Park for falling in love with strangers.

in the emerald green by darcylindbergh @forpiratereasons rated E | 3k words

And Stede likes Ed, here and now, with the fresh smell of the wind and the salt in his hair, stripped down to nothing but an emerald green banyan and the ink in his skin, climbing back into the bed.

a soft morning together in bed, pondering a tattoo

A Night At Blackbeards's Bar and Grill by soft_october @soft-october-night rated T | 5.5k words

The manager at the new restaurant Stede is trying to review is being kind of a dick. A certain member of the waitstaff, however, takes a bit of a liking to him.

O happy living things by tiptory rated E | 4.5k words

“When I wake,” Stede said, quite conversationally, “from such dreams, I feel like I really am that slug, and that it’s a great injustice I lived to destroy so many beautiful gardens and never even had the decency to feed myself to a hungry bird. And my whole crew knows it, and you as well, and the only reason for anyone to stay aboard is sheer hopelessness, some deep and primordial longing for death. That at least my buffoonery might entertain them while together we dig our own watery grave.”

He sipped his tea, primly. Edward opened his mouth and closed it again, then reached, dizzily, for his own cup.

“But it’s not true,” said Stede.

put me back together by ShowMeAHero @andillwriteyouatragedy rated T | 4k words

or: lucius accidentally gives stede a flesh wound, and ed loses his mind like they're not all pirates.

Bit of a Clothes Horse by Aivelin, Fyre @aivelin @amuseoffyre rated E | 9k words

Stede tossed down the invitation card on the couch. “On the contrary!” He scrambled to his feet “You’re not wearing anything that beastly man owned. You deserve something far better, especially for your first time out. If we’re going to a party, you’re getting all the luxury you deserve.”

Cabin Pressure by entanglednow @entanglednow rated E | 6k words

Contrary to Stede's insistence there was not enough space for two in the bed, not unless they wanted to get very close indeed.

Domestic by Ark @et-in-arkadia rated E | 33k words

Or: Ed and Stede leave the island together, and they don’t look back.

an absolute treat. building a life together, nice and slow

Buttercup by mia_ugly @mia-ugly rated E | 13.5k words

The thing is, when you’re Blackbeard you’ve got kind of a reputation to uphold. When you captain a ship, when you lead a crew, when people look up to you, tell stories, build a legend – parts of that legend are always more accurate than others.

Clean Slated State by Justkeeptrekkin @justkeeptrekkin rated E | 42.5k words

Stede is ready to 'get back out there' after his divorce, but he's more than a little bit intimidated by the concept of online dating. After a series of truly terrible first dates, he's close to giving up on love altogether. Perhaps he's too old for all this Grindr nonsense.

And then, along comes a bartender called Edward Teach.

incredibly hot and funny and middle age romance

Revenge by feriowind @feriowind rated T 

An offering to the Kraken goes awry.-- Multi-page comic set post S1.

if you get the time, the number is still mine by one_more_page @one-more-page rated M | 24.5k words

A series of phone calls as Stede and Ed go from childhood friends, to adults who can't connect, to something more.

Room People S02E01: Roommates to Husbands to ??? by nightbloomingcereus @moondawntreader rated T | 1.5k words

Frenchie and Wee John are the hosts of the popular Room People podcast.  Someone named Steve-with-a-V (definitely his real name and not a cunning alias) calls in with a thrilling tale of marriage fraud.  

Based on that one Marriage Fraud tiktok.

your name like a boat by mia_ugly, soft_october @mia-ugly @soft-october-night rated E | 39k words

Sailors call them watermarks. A gift from the sea, a name or symbol written on your chest, meant to guide you to your own true love.

But Stede Bonnet's mark doesn't look like anything at all. Not really. And it certainly doesn't look like 'Edward' or 'Teach' or 'Blackbeard' or a black beard and that's fine. Completely fine.

Ed's absolutely fine with it.

[allylikethecat]

Awww I love the prompts so much ❤️My little queer heart needs it: I’d love number 42 and 50, a combination would be nice, too (M&G, of course).

Thank you so much for sending this in! I'm sorry again that it took me so long to fill, also I apologize it turned out a bit more angsty than originally intended, I hope you still enjoy it! I had a lot of fun working on it 😊 Let me know what you think - if it's not what you're looking for let me know and I can try to tackle it again! As requested I've combined the two. I've really enjoyed working on all these Kiss prompts and am excited to finish up and share the last few!

❤️Ally

42. Kiss…out of pride & 50. Kiss…out of love

Matty’s heart was in his throat as he looked at George with wide eyes. He could hear the applause, people cheering, and felt the press of someone clapping him on the back. It felt distant, like he was underwater. It reminded him of being twenty six, overwhelmed with life, overwhelmed with addiction. They had stayed at a hotel that night, he couldn’t remember the city, just that it was somewhere in America. He had gone down to the hotel pool with George, a dangerous combination of drunk and high, playing pretend at being sober.

The air had been humid, the smell of chlorine stinging his nose, and making his eyes itch as he had kicked off his flip flops and shed his tee shirt. Everything felt heavy, too heavy. The weight of life pressing down on him as he stepped into the warm water. He hadn’t even intended to get in, had intended to sit on one of the deck chairs pretending to read while George did laps, trying to pretend he could read the words that were swirling on the page, the black ink dancing, giving him no hope of untangling the letters. Trying to pretend that he wasn’t there because George didn’t trust him in their room alone.

Instead he found himself drawn to the water, the pool wasn’t deep, three feet in the shallow end, six feet in the deep end. It was empty, ten at night on a weekday. The signs proclaiming “no diving” and “no lifeguard on duty - swim at your own risk.” Matty had found himself walking through the water, narrow body cutting through the surface easily, the water rising over his hips, over his chest, up to his neck. He took a deep breath and let himself sink, dropping to the bottom of the pool, resting with his back against the tile.

He felt weightless, but also cocooned, there was a pressure in his ears but nothing could hurt him where he lay at the bottom of the pool.  He opened his eyes and stared up at the surface, at the overhead lights flickering, glittering like a kaleidoscope of  broken glass, his curls dancing in the filter current like tentacles in his peripheral vision. He wanted to stay there forever. He had no idea how long he was down there, his lungs screaming as his vision darkened around the edges. The surface tension was broken, and next thing he knew he was sputtering, thrust back to the surface, George’s arm locked around him, banging on his back, as he coughed up a lung full of water, staring at him with a mixture of anger and terror.

It was always George. George was always there, grounding him, pulling him to the surface, pulling him from his thoughts and dragging him back to reality. 

“We did it, love,” said George pulling him into his arms, when had he stood up? Matty wondered, Ross was whooping, and Adam was grinning, his feet moving without his brain telling them too, following George, being dragged by George up the steps to the stage. His brain felt heavy, sluggish, oversaturated and waterlogged like a sponge left in too long in a soapy sink, like he was oxygen deprived from laying at the bottom of the pool.

The award was thrust into one hand, and a microphone into the other. Matty swallowed hard, his hands shaking, his palms sweating as he passed the statue back to George so he wouldn’t drop it. He’s not sure what he ended up saying, he hoped he remembered to thank the fans, to thank their families before they were being herded backstage for photos.

He was sure he was making a fool out of himself, he was sure everyone thought he was drunk even though he hadn’t touched the glass of wine George had gotten him at the bar, his stomach churning with anxiety and nausea. He was stone cold sober as they stood in front of the backdrop, forcing himself to smile even as he felt like he was staring down at his body from above. The camera flashed and they were ushered to the side, they would be taken back to their table at the next commercial break.

He couldn’t believe it. They had actually done it. They had won. It felt like something he wasn’t a part of. He knew he contributed to it, he was the singer, the front man, it was his lyrics and George’s music, and Adam and Ross's talent. But it wasn’t his words that had won, it was the hours George spent in the studio, crafting the music that played in his mind. Pride burned in his throat. George had done it. George had won. 

“I’m so proud of you,” said George, hooking his thumb into Matty’s belt loops, pulling him into a corner off to the side. He had given the statue back, the academy would send them each their own awards later once they had been engraved.  

“Why?” asked Matty, confusion thick in his voice. George was the one that had produced the record, had written the music, Matty was merely his mouthpiece. Matty was proud of George. Proud to call him his best friend, his bandmate, his partner, his other half, his soul mate, the love of his life, his fiance.  

George just blinked at him, leaning down to press their lips together, dragging his tongue over Matty’s bottom lip before biting at it gently, requesting access, licking into his mouth, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair, disrupting the carefully styled curls, as if he could press his love into Matty, force it into his mouth and down his throat. Matty kissed him back eagerly, letting himself be consumed, enveloped in the weight of George. It was better than being at the bottom of the pool, it was better than the high of any drug. The force of his love pressing into his lungs, making his head feel fuzzy in the best kind of way.

“I love you,” said Matty, his voice rough as he pulled away, resting his forehead against George’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. "And I'm so fucking proud of you."

[mxddyhero]

Okay so I don't usually buy variant covers but..

The Jim Cheung variant was just waaay too nice to pass up... 💙❤

[jadelynlace]

33. “Show me how much you missed me.”

I need this.

content warnings: explicit content,smut

find the list of requests here & find more ink drinker here

This must be what a dog feels like, you think to yourself. It must be what a dog feels right before their faithful best friend opens the door after another day of work. Your eyes glance at the clock, as if looking at it will make it move any quicker. And then they flick back to the door as if they’ll make the man appear out of thin air. 

You’re accustomed to the two weeks now; the time Ivar’s gone for the yearly tattoo convention but you swear the last few hours are longer than anything else. You have his sweatshirt on solely to smell his cologne; to make it feel as though he’s in the bed with you when you want nothing more than to fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. 

You’ve stress-cleaned the entire place, made meals, finished laundry and folded it, and put it away. All within the first few hours you had been awake. Browsing the internet for purchase only to give you serotonin moved time no quicker; and trying to rewatch a show only reminded you that you started it with Ivar before you turned the television off quickly. Going for a walk seemed to put couples on every street, holding hands, laughing together. Watching the flight tracker only made you refresh the page every moment you got, thinking maybe the connection was slow, but in fact, it was just that the flight was long. You can’t move time, and in your constant state to do so, you could swear you ended up making it slower.

You hear the front door to the apartment complex slam with its tell-tale weight and you perk up. The thought of being a dog still rings in your mind and your smile widens when you hear his key in the lock of the front door. Butterflies ring through your abdomen and you round the corner to see Ivar come through the door. A careless toss flings his coat onto the ground, and his bag follows suit not too far after, all disregard for everything in it.

“Hi baby,” He smiles and Gods if you thought you missed his voice you certainly didn’t realize how much until this moment.

“I missed you,” You mumble against his neck, wrapping yourself in his embrace and yet still not getting close enough. You’re crushed in a hug that you’re sure could cure the evilest of ailments and you feel your feet off the ground for a brief second as you simply rejoice over the sensation. 

“Missed you too,” Ivar answers back into your hair. “I swear it’s the longest two weeks on the planet—like longer than any others,”

“Show me how much you missed me,” You say softly. No sooner than the words leave your mouth do Ivar's hands claim you; pulling you impossibly close and the rush of movement sends excitement up your spine. 

Your back is along the bed before your mind can truly conclude the motions of moving through the apartment. Your hands move as quickly as his, tracing bodies and not yet even fully pulling at one another’s clothes as you two explore. His tongue wrestles yours as you feel the pressing of his middle against yours, a thick outline as you raise your hips and grind against him, ever so slightly. Ivar moans into your mouth as you move, fumbling one hand to pull at your pants and as your cunt slips free, his cock is there sliding into you. 

Your body tenses suddenly, releasing just as quickly as pleasure takes over. Melting into the sheets, Ivar’s body deflates against yours as your moan tangles with his. 

“Fuck I missed this,” Ivar whispers and your only response is a hum before he even starts to move his hips.

The first drag of his cock through your walls makes you gasp, pulling a delicious pleasure around you as Ivar only groans, shaking slightly as he readjusts how his knees are bent. Pulling his head over yours, you latch arms around him, only to move them to bring his face closers to you. The kiss you two share is disrupted by the moan Ivar makes as you squeeze around him, slow thrusts pushing him deep inside of you as he feels your thighs vibrates against him.

“We’ll just establish that neither of us is going to last long,” Ivar says quickly, turning your head in his favor, and out of instinct your open your mouth. He only hums as saliva dribbles from his tongue to yours, finishing the movement as you swallow and he seeks out your lips, still pushing himself quickly. As he feels your nails in the meat of his back, his body trickles with his own notions of his release, sliding up his spine, and even though he feels as though he needs to make you finish first, it’s a losing battle.

“Want to hear you come,” You peep. “And want to feel it,” You add, knowing the phrases are weapons in your power to bring him to his end. Ivar’s breathing only picks up between the two of you as his thrusts shake the bed, your moans bouncing off the walls as his fingers dig into the sheets. Studying his face, you watch his eyes close in pleasure, the gape from his mouth widening. “Want you to look at me when you do,” You say and Ivar’s eyes open quickly, just hardly giving him the warning as you feel the last particularly hard thrust, pulling his release from his shaft as his eyes watch yours. 

You’re quick to pull at his head again, taking his lips with yours and you feel his body buzz as his hips stop, swarming your walls with his seed and he only hums as his body weight lays over yours. 

“That’s the best thing to come home to,” Ivar whispers, bumping his nose with yours. 

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[fragilefawn444]

BLOODLUST, an eddie munson x reader oneshot

Summary : Eddie has been missing for weeks, and nobody has heard from him. Absolute radio silence. Until you receive a text…

Contains : Contains : Suspense, descriptions of blood and injury, minimal explicit language, anxiety and panic, a little angst, manipulation (if you squint) , mention of dead bugs, pet names, vampire eddie <3

Word count : 1.7k

Authors note: I’ve never written anything like this, and I’m super excited about sharing it! Vamp Eddie is a theory that I’ve seen circling around, so I wanted to bring it to life. I also impulsively posted this without checking for typos…oopsies

You haven't heard from him in weeks, and quite frankly never expected to ever again.

The air outside felt thick as you trudged through the mud, using more force to lift your shoes from the muck than it should have. Papers were tacked to the tree trunks all around you, some of them floating in the wind and landing in puddles beneath your feet. You'd seen the posters around town, but never picked one up until now.

“MISSING”

EDWARD ‘EDDIE’ MUNSON, TWENTY YEARS OLD, LAST SEEN WEARING A WHITE AND BLACK LONG SLEEVE HELLFIRE SHIRT WITH NAVY JEANS. WHEREABOUTS : UNKNOWN. LAST SEEN AT HAWKINS HIGH ON FRIDAY, JULY 15TH, 2022. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION, PLEASE CONTACT THE HAWKINS POLICE STATION IMMEDIATELY”

The rain from earlier had completely blended the photos of Eddie printed on the page, the ink bleeding across the paper, turning him into a warped version of himself. His facial features seemed to smear together, leaving only an eye or an ear visible. The visual was haunting. The wind around you didn't help with the chill already creeping up your spine, a shiver making its way to the surface.

Two hours earlier, the text message came.

“its eddie. the woods at 5pm. you know which ones i'm talking about. come alone”

You didn't know if it was really him, but who else would know about your special spot? The memories you two had shared there together. The secrets you'd had exchanged when it felt like no one else in the world would listen to you. The kiss you two had shared the day before he went missing. You knew you had to go.

Dropping the paper to the ground, you watched as the wind carried it, floating into a puddle of rain. The page just about disintegrated in front of your eyes, his face fading away with it. He was gone just as fast as he was there.

By this point, 4:45 was rolling around, hardly making it to your destination on time. The old wooden picnic table was soaked, the smell of rotting wood and damp earth tickling your nose as you leaned against the surface. The thick coat you had on wasn't getting the job done in terms of warmth, and impatience was quickly setting in. The slow crunch of leaves under someone's heavy boot signaled you were no longer alone. Turning around, you squint to look farther into the distance. The crunching had silenced, leaving you with nothing but an increased heart rate and the looming feeling of dread.

“Eddie?” You call weakly into the forest, spinning around at the snap of a twig. “If that's you, this isn't funny. I need to know you're okay. Just come out”

A figure appears in the distance, frizzy hair being the first thing you can make out. As they approach closer, the worn out hellfire logo comes into view, and your heart is at ease. He's alive, but that doesn't mean he's well.

A dark red stain engulfs a major portion of the white on his shirt, a tear on the leg of his jeans. The skin beneath however, does not appear to be sliced. Eddie approaches closer, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. He's breathing heavily, like he's been running. Your instinct is to back away as he comes closer, but your legs refuse to take you backward, only forward. Against your better judgment, you meet him in the middle, and that's when you see it.

A drop of blood spilled from between his lips, attempting to travel to his chin before Eddie intercepted it with his tongue. The action was quick, like he didn't want you to see. But you were too observant. Still, though, no injuries were present, so where was the blood coming from?

“You need to understand that I had to disappear. It wasn't safe for me here anymore. Just trust me when I say I needed to see you one last time”

“Why didn't you tell me you were leaving? Maybe I could've done something to help you. I poured my heart out to you in these last few weeks. You told me you trusted me with anything. I thought you were dead, eddie” Your voice shook no matter how hard you tried to keep your composure. You felt utterly deceived. The idea that something so terrible had entered his life that he had to drop off the face of the earth was unfathomable.

“You're not listening to me” His voice had lowered to a cautious volume now, as if he were worried someone was lurking, stalking in the trees surrounding the two of you.

“No, Eddie. I am absolutely listening to you. This entire situation is shitty. Do you know how many people are out there looking for you right now? And you're telling me it's not safe? For heaven's sake, the entire Hawkins police force has been scavenging the area for you. They Are the safest people we've got!- ” Your volume increased with what seemed like every word, but you didn't get to finish.

Reaching forward with a frightening sense of speed, Eddie placed his hands on your shoulders, completely in his control. The grip was anything but light. Never before had he made such a hasty move like this. Something changed him out there in god knows where these last few weeks.

The boy opened his mouth to speak, an almost metallic smell hitting you in the face.

“Keep your voice down” He spoke through gritted teeth now. “You don't get it”. With every word, his face inches closer to yours. As his words trailed off, something you'd never noticed before appeared to occupy the space between his flaky, blood stained lips.

Two white fangs.

Two little piercing triangles sitting in place of where the plain old canine teeth should be. Your entire life, observancy has shown itself to be a blessing and a curse. It was proving itself to be a curse in this moment as your feet froze to the ground, invisible cement sealing you to the earth below.

The fear you felt inside must have been perfecting itself onto your face, as Eddie was clearly taking notice. His lips slammed shut, tongue swiping the surface and taking the dried blood with it. The grip on your shoulders never loosened, no matter how hard you tried to inch away.

“I'm starving…” his voice trembled. That familiar stinging, burning feeling before you're about to cry welled up in the back of your throat, eyes turning misty. The reality of the situation was setting in. He hadn't called you here to see you one last time.

You were nothing but a meal in his eyes. A blood bag.

“Please” he begged, almost pathetically. The sockets in which his eyes sat now looked like two areas void of occupancy, the skin on the rest of his face clinging to the bone for dear life. The lack of nutrition appeared to be affecting him severely now, right in front of your eyes. “Can't you see I need this?’ His ringed fingers curled around your shoulders, pressing into the skin as if to say ‘please don't go’. Fight or flight surged through your body, and you chose flight.

For the first time since you arrived at the spot, your legs finally listened to your brain. With urgency, you sprinted from the scene. Being in the woods, everything looked the same. The same puddles filled with bugs lying on their backs, the sky being the last thing they ever saw. The sky might be the last thing you'd ever see too.

The same trees around every corner. The same missing posters with the monster you hardly recognized anymore. His face was everywhere you turned, whether it be tacked poorly to trees or being carried to some far away place in the wind.

The familiar snap of twigs under someone's heavy foot came from behind you accompanied by a shout.

“Awh c’mon sweetheart. It didn't have to be like this. It could've been over so quickly. Somebodys a runner, huh?”

An evil chuckle slipped past his lips, causing your stomach to drop. Eddie Munson was a fraud. Was everything he said to you a lie? His full intentions were finally laid out on the table now. No more secrets. No more lies.

The stale leaves folded and smashed beneath your feet, leaving little remnants crushed into the soles of your shoes. These shoes would forever hold the memory of this moment. Your lungs ached as you swerved through the trees. The odds of you having already run in circles was high. It felt like being trapped in a never ending maze. Or a neighborhood where every house looked the same. The only thing that changed was the distance between you and Eddie's voice. A bead of sweat rolled from your forehead, gasping for air as you slid behind a tree stump.

“Come out, come out wherever you are. You can't hide from me forever”

The wind blew, swirling up the loose papers from the ground once again. No matter where you went, even if he wasn't physically in front of you, you couldn't get away from him. A sinking feeling carved a hole in the pit of your stomach as two boots crept up behind you.

“Found ya, darling”

His arms reached out, encompassing your body with an obvious eagerness. You fell limp, no matter how much your body begged to kick and thrash.

Except you knew you didn't need to run. It was time to pull the trick out from under your sleeve. Spinning around in his arms, you looked into the man's blood thirsty eyes. Part of you felt bad for the stunt you pulled, but maybe he deserved it. A dumbfounded look spread across his face as you used two fingers to pull up your top lip revealing two small white fangs.

His skin flushed pale, devoid of color. You ran your tongue over the two sharp bumps as his hands began to tremble.

“Bet I had you fooled. I can keep a secret too. Surprise.’

[untaemedqueen]

Take One (M)

Pornstar!Yoongi x Fan Fiction Writer!Reader

Genre: Strangers To Lovers!AU, Smut, Fluff

WordCount: 24k

Warnings: Masturbation, Fingering, Big Dick!Yoongi, Slight Dom!Yoongi, Degradation (Slut, Cum Slut), Spanking, Sex Against A Wall, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Phone Sex, Edging, Pussy Slapping, Daddy Kink, Hair Pulling, Cock Slapping, Cum Swallowing, Love Making, Marking, Body Worship, Cunnilingus, Face Fucking, Multiple Orgasms, Possessive!Yoongi, Forced Orgasm, Doggy Style, Impreg Kink

A/N: Again the biggest shout outs to my crew @ppersonna​​, @ladyartemesia​​, @xjoonchildx​​ who are constantly rooting for this fic to come out. I love my ladies so much!!!!!!!

There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word. 

He has seen so many bodies in his career. So many different women and men that he cared very little for the human form. Now, written word where he could just simply envision a woman of his choosing doing what is described in twelve font Ariel Black ink. That is where he finds his pleasure.

He found himself after a long day on set, looking for mental relief. People make fun of his job, but it's incredibly taxing on one's spirit. He tried for years and years to be not only the best porn star in his field, but the most talked about. He succeeded after not too long, one utterly embarrassing title called 'Little Cat, Bowl of Milk' skyrocketed his success and had people coming back time and time again to his profile on all the major porn sites. He began to realize that success was eating at his bones. He so often found himself not being able to cum as he fucked his co-star half way to Sunday. 

It wasn't about being the greatest anymore, or having the biggest cock in the industry. It was about actually being able to cum without the prop team having to strap a tube on the underside of his cock and pump out this incredibly realistic looking paste that actually looks like jizz. It was practically degrading. And yet, Yoongi only found himself orgasming through reading. 

It was a random happenstance as he was scrolling online. Just looking at a few different blogs on Tumblr before finding a link in their biography stating 'Masterlist'. Finding himself intrigued he clicked on the link, the girl with the pen name Nevermore had countless series of books. She was great at writing, truly understanding her character's complexity and portraying it in such a way that had Yoongi constantly on the edge of his seat. But above all, the sex scenes she wrote were so erotic; so completely entrancing that he began to lose himself in her stories. He had never cum harder than before he read the words she so ardently wrote.

Jumping onto his couch, his feet find their place on the arm as his hand rests beneath his head. "I wonder what's up with Kyla and Bjorn today." He whispers to himself before sipping his beer. Every day of the week waits with bated breath to be Sunday. Nevermore publishes every Sunday at 8 o'clock and Yoongi never misses it. He will even stop a late filming just to read her new chapter. 

Stopping by her blog fills him with a sense of renewal. He first checks her updated page before anything else. She seemed to have an almost poetic soul within her, as if her fingers poured out earnest sentences with cryptic and riddled meaning. It's her latest post that catches his attention, first and foremost, before he can even click on the book's masterlist. He sips his beer as he peruses the post.

Coming Tuesday - Take One. 

Pornstar!Min Yoongi x Reader

Author's Note: I usually research heavily for smut to make it seem the most realistic as possible. I looked into porn to get a sense of what pornstars go through day to day and came across Min Yoongi. Eajsidicjeisoc HE'S UNBELIEVABLE! So the next book will be a fan fiction based on him. And believe me when I say I'M A FAN.

Beer goes flying out of his mouth. Sitting up quickly, his eyes widened at the text. 

"EXCUSE ME?!" He yells loudly before putting his hand over his mouth. 

A voraciously nervous giggle escapes him as his eyes flit to the popcorn ceiling. "Me? She's seen me?" He doesn't know whether to be astonished or incredibly flattered. He was a mere reader, one of the thousands that follow her blog and here he was being featured in one of her gorgeous stories. Would she write him like he is or turn him into a sex god? Someone completely void of feeling like Bjorn? Or someone absolutely brimming with possibility like Kyla? His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he lets out a happy groan. I guess Tuesdays would be the days to look forward to now.

Sweat builds upon Yoongi’s lean frame as he snaps his hips into his co-star once more. His arm muscles shake as he holds himself above her thin frame, “You like that? Hmm? Like getting pounded by your sister’s husband? You’re such a fucking slut.” He recites his script before wrapping his hand around her neck. She whimpers out, botoxed lips parting for air as she keens loudly.

“Yes! Fuck! More, I’m such a little slut. I want you to fuck me so hard!” She whines and he can feel his energy slipping from him. This isn’t exciting. This doesn’t get him off. It was a trivial part of his job. He knows she’s enjoying it, the way she drools isn’t prompted. The way her eyes roll back every time the head of his cock meets her cervix folds isn’t scripted. He used to savor that. He used to adore fucking his co-stars stupid, making them forget their lines so he could take a break and edge his orgasm away before pile driving into them like a frenzied maniac. Now he just wishes she could hurry up and cum so he could get to the blog. It was Tuesday after all. 

“Oh Christ.” He murmurs out as she cums on his cock for a third time. Her cum squirting onto his thighs as she screeches to the heavens. The camera was solely focused on her battered pussy. And so, with that knowledge he closes his eyes. Picturing, or trying anyway, how Bjorn took Kyla into the fish hut after their summer raid. How he laid her down on the bed of hay and let his wild freeness overcome him. The way he ran his fingers over her nipples deftly. Deftly, that was a word used in the books often that he found himself loving. He remembers reading in obscene vividity how tight Kyla was for Bjorn, signifying that she had not been with a lover since he went to raid England. 

Yoongi finds himself gasping gently as he pictures the scene written just weeks ago by Nevermore’s beautiful hands. His cock was thickening just at the thought and he lets out a loud groan. Pleasure seeping into every nerve of his body as his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip. Picturing someone else beneath him, someone more supple to the touch. Someone who was simple and adoring being underneath him because they wanted to be. 

Alas, he’s ripped from his impending orgasm as his co-star scrapes her ridiculously sharp nails over his arms. He lets out a defeated sigh before opening his eyes. Jaw going slack he waves in the prop team. It’s still disgusting to him, the feel of the tube beneath his cock twitch and pulse as the paste emits from below him. It smells like glue. 

He gives a loud moan, something the director would say is beautiful as the paste lands on the folds of her pussy. He pulls away from her, ripping the tube out from beneath him as she giggles to the camera. Her index finger sneaks its way into her mouth and she gives a ginger bite to it before sighing happily. “Thanks Yidu.” He murmurs before grabbing a pair of boxers from his manager.

“What’s the matter, Yoongi? Can’t seem to get off?” Yidu calls to him as she sits up on her elbows. 

“Not with you or with anyone.” He mumbles to himself before shoving open his dressing room door. 

“What’s wrong with you?! Yidu is hot, man!” His manager, Hoseok says as he closes the door behind them. Yoongi rolls his eyes as he digs into his jacket before pulling out his phone. 

“Hobi. I told you. It’s hard to get off anymore, it’s just so… so-”

“Trivial? Come on, Yoongi! You just had one of the hottest A list porn stars beneath you!” Hobi says before handing Yoongi his coffee as he sits down in the arm chair.

“Then you go fuck Yidu. Give her a good seeing too.” He mumbles as he unlocks his phone. Hoseok scoffs loudly before throwing himself down onto the loveseat. 

“Yeah right! She’d never want to be with me after your eleven inch cock was deep in her kidneys.” Yoongi snorts at his comment before turning around to him. 

“It’s eleven and a half inches. I wish you would get it right.” He jeers before sipping his coffee.

Hoseok didn’t leave him alone for the rest of the afternoon. So, he had to wait with bated breath to read the new book until he got home. Which he finds agreeable since he would want privacy anyway. He’s kind of nervous. Isn’t it odd to read a book about yourself? As flattering as it is? 

What if the book painted him out to be this sex craved monster? He takes a deep breath before unlocking his phone. “Okay.” He whispers before crossing his legs and throwing them up on the couch.

There’s something magical about meeting the right someone. Captivating, even. The way irises flit between one another in a moment of glorious silence. The breath that is held within one’s chest as you stare longingly at the other person before you. Hands could shake from nerves, excitement- both, even. It had never happened for Min Yoongi. Until you. 

Yoongi clears his throat before leaning deeper into the couch cushions. There it is. The master at work. Painting him to be a god among men. A small smirk finds its way on to his lips as he settles in for more.

It took a second to notice him. To see him in a sea of moving bodies. He was a gentle breeze in a vast desert. And, in that second you yearned to know him. 

He was tall. Taller than you by all accounts. His hair was black and long, the gentle spring breeze blowing his bangs into his eyes as he leans against the hotel door waiting for his car. 

Expensive. That’s a word that could describe him even in the darkest of nights. The way his leather jacket clung to him, highlighting his biceps. Even his sunglasses screamed exorbitant. With one foot pressed against the foggy glass of the door, you found yourself walking towards him without any care for yourself. 

His jeans hung low, the crisp white t-shirt he adorned barely covering his pale skin underneath.

“Someone’s been watching ‘To Meet A Man’, hmm?” He quips as his thumb trails slowly over his bottom lip. He was already hooked. Seeing himself as the character and yet, completely setting himself outside of it as well. He was torn between the two and he feels as if he could go on this way forever. 

Stopping in front of him, he tilts his head towards you before smirking. “Can I help you, little one?” His voice was like the sound of a harp. Sharp and melodic. 

“You’re standing in front of the door.” You reply. Your index finger pointed at the foggy glass beneath his foot. He opens his mouth for a fraction of a second before nodding. 

“Thought you recognized me.” He murmurs to himself, opening the door to let you into the hotel. 

“I bet you’d like that.” You smile at him, black sundress rippling through the breeze before entering the hotel. 

“Yes. I think I would like that.”

God, this was enthralling. His toes curl as he reads on. Loving the picturing being painted already. How is it that you made this Min Yoongi so incredibly bold and attractive? How is he not this attractive? 

Yes, okay. He was hot. Undoubtedly. He knows that. But, he never flaunted it if he wasn’t on camera. This Min Yoongi was confident and sound. Surely he could cum on command without having to think of book characters to maybe do it. 

Yoongi wishes he was like his book counterpart. He’s a fan of him.

Stepping on set, he takes in the scene before him. This is something his character in Take One would be into. Tying up his woman Y/N. Pleasing her through and through, making her beg for more just because he could. 

Sipping his coffee he hums to himself as his hand runs over the silken sheets of the prop bed. “Wow. Big budget.” He jokes to Hoseok who snorts as a reply. 

“Your co-star is here.” Hoseok whispers before nodding across the set. Yoongi takes off his leather jacket before looking her over and he internally groans. Nothing like how he pictures Y/N at all in the book. 

“Fine.” He mutters out as he hands his leather jacket to Hoseok.

“When did you start wearing leather?” His long time friend asks as he sniffs the jacket. Yoongi shoos him away before running his fingers through his hair. “Mind your business, Jung!” He snaps before taking off his sunglasses.

He’s worked with this porn star before. She was hot, obviously. The kind of hot that screams high maintenance. And she always brought her dog to set. Which was odd. Also, annoying. Every time it yaps, they would have to start the scene over which for Yoongi used to be great but now, he feels an impending sense of doom as the chihuahua opens its mouth. “Yoongi!” 

Oh yeah, her voice was really high pitched. Something that could break a wine glass if she tried to sing opera. “Candy.” He whispers before kissing her cheek.

He used to be fond of her. Hell, they’d even gone on a date once after they filmed a marriage scene together. She was not for him. Not for anyone that had a clear thinking mind and that could count above fifty. “I’m so excited! You remember Tiberius, don’t you?” She asks as she holds up her dog. 

The small dog growls at Yoongi as he gives a half hearted chuckle, “Of course I do. Hi...Tiberius.” He retracts his hand harshly as the dog nips at the air.

“Let’s go get you dressed. Hmm?” Hoseok asks, hooking a hand over his shoulder. He hums to him as they walk towards his dressing room. “Please, kill me now.” He whispers fiercely, earning a loud laugh from Seok as he pushes open the door. 

Running his hands over Candy's body, he lets out a hum of appreciation. Concentrating on keeping his face steady as the camera pans upward. He pinches her nipples roughly, a gasp emitting through the set as she wiggles her hips cheekily. Would Y/N like that? Would she like his book counterpart to treat her roughly like this? Or would she want to be praised? 

"God, look at your sexy little nipples." He says aloud before slapping her breast. She whines into the camera, pulling on the handcuffs as her legs part wider. "So fucking hard for me." He comments before trailing his tongue around her stiff peaked areola. 

She keens for him and his eyes shut just to shield his eye roll. But as the room fades to black behind his eyelids, he remembers something. Nevermore watches his videos. She watches to get ideas. 

His head turns to the director as he moves out of the way for the camera to take a shot of her wet pussy. "You said free script?" He asks him.

The director waves his hand agreeing before looking back at the monitor. His smirk sends Candy beneath him into a fluster. She eyes him delicately as he spreads her legs. Candy was good at this though, rolling off the cuff with whatever her co-stars do. 

Yoongi taps his palm to her pussy before rubbing slow circles on her clit. "Look at you, baby. Aching for my big cock. You remember when I met you outside of the hotel? In my leather jacket?" She whimpers at the stimulation before nodding. 

"You looked so good for me. I wanted to just tear you apart." He hums at her words before pulling his cock out of his briefs. 

"I asked if I could help you, little one. But it's you who'll be helping me. Suck my cock." He instructs as he shoves his cock towards her face. Saying the lines from Nevermore's story, acting like his book counterpart sends his nerve endings aflame. 

His body tingles with satisfaction and the smile that creeps onto his face is one of pure joy as his cock enters her lips.

Throwing yourself down onto your roommates bed, she raises an eyebrow at you before folding her arms. "What's with the face?"

"Viiii." You whine loudly before burying your head into her pillow. She scoffs gently before laying down next to you. 

"Are you stuck with your writing?" You whinge loudly in agreement before rolling on to your back. 

Twirling her hair around her finger, she snorts gently before leaning against the headrest of her bed. "What part are you on? Hurry up Taehyung is coming over in forty minutes to take me out on a date." 

"Oh Taehyung is more important than your best friend ever that is going through a crisis?!" You faun shock as you sit up on your knees. She laughs, kicking out her feet before rolling her eyes. 

"No. Well...He has a big dick so getting dicked down might be more important but anyway, back to your crisis." Your lips sputter as you giggle before crossing your legs beneath you.

"She's going to have sex with Min Yoongi." You tell her and she hums before tilting her head.

"And? Your smut is hot. Just do what you always do. Fuck her till she's crying." She states plainly and you can't help but chortle at her words.

"But he's a fucking porn star. I don't know how to just-" You intertwine your fingers before smacking them together repeatedly.

"Okay, the word is cohesion. Whatever the fuck that is you think your doing- is gross so please stop that." You pout at her and she pokes your nose before grabbing her laptop with a gentle grunt. 

"Let's get some ideas for your dirty sex romp." She whispers before opening up the laptop.

Skimming through the videos, the thumbnails make your eyes go wide. "How does she do that?!" Viola asks loudly before trying to pick up her leg and put it behind her head.

"Seems like the work of the devil." You murmur before continuing to scroll. 

"Look! A new one! 'Cuffs and Leather.' Sounds lethal." She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you nudge her with a laugh before opening up the video.

Right off the bat it's filthy. And, you can't help the way your body leans in as his hand grazes over her bare sides. "God, his voice is so rich and dreamy." Your roommate comments as he tells her how pretty her nipples are.

Your thighs press together unconsciously before tilting your head. His eyes seem alight with mischief as they look deeply into the camera. It makes something inside of you stir almost innately. "She's pretty." Viola whispers before leaning back against the headrest.

"Look at you, baby. Aching for my big cock. You remember when I met you outside of the hotel? In my leather jacket?" Those words send your heart lurching.

"No fucking way." Viola yells as she sits up quickly. Your head whips to her as your eyes go wide. 

"No way. No FUCKING way!" She screams before cupping her mouth.

"I asked if I could help you, little one. But it's you who'll be helping me. Suck my cock." His voice, the teasing tone sends you rigid. Your throat dries up and all you emit is a squeak as Viola slaps her fingers onto the spacebar pausing the video.

"Oh my FUCKING GOD. Y/N!" Her screams sound foggy to your ears as your heartbeat begins to fill the void of noise. He's seen it. He's fucking READ it. 

Your face goes red as you stare at the screen. Your left eye begins to twitch as Vi presses her hands to your shoulders and shakes you. Her squeals bring you back to reality and you cover your face with your hands. "That's so amazing! He's read Take One!" She cheers happily and you begin to feel sick.

Your stomach rolls, a cold sweat creeping onto your skin as you put your hand to your forehead. "No." You whisper to yourself before laying back onto her plethora of pillows.

"Yes! This is incredible!"

"No." It's weaker this time as she straddles you. Jumping up and down happily and your body moves freely atop the mattress like a limp noodle. 

"Y/N! What are you going to do?!" She squeals as she shakes you around.

"Delete it." You say before looking up at her. She stops for a second before going wide eyed. 

"What?! Delete it?! No! What're you talking about?!" She says quickly as you grab your phone from her bedside table.

"I have to delete it. This is embarrassing. I mean, he has read something I made for myself and-" You go to unlock your phone and Viola scoffs loudly. 

"No! Give me the phone." She says loudly and you begin to wrestle atop her mattress.

"I HAVE TO DELETE IT. HE SAW WHAT I WROTE! I USED MY OWN NAME IN A FIC!" You yell out as you pin her beneath you. But, she has the grip of a strong barbarian as she shoves your phone down her tank top.

"No! If he didn't like it he would have just ignored it! But, if he had enough balls to put it in a porn! Then you know, he likes it! And he doesn't know your name!" She says. 

You grimace at your phone in her shirt before folding your arms. Maybe she was right. Maybe, he did like it. "So what am I supposed to do?" You ask her as she pushes you off of her. 

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she leans in. Fingertip pressing to the tip of your nose as she smirks. "You're going to write the hottest smut in existence and send Min Yoongi, the porn star cumming in his expensive Dior briefs." She says before fishing your phone out of her shirt and throwing it at you.

"That's disgusting." You whine as you wipe your phone. She shrugs before popping a piece of gum into her mouth.

"You've written sex scenes where men run an actual fucking train on a girl and she's covered in like four different types of cum. Get over it." She says before blowing a bubble. You roll your eyes at her before looking back down at the scene. 

He wouldn't have said something if he didn't like it. He would have just gone on with life as it were. "Now go write your cute little brain away." She says before shooing you out of her room.

"What're you going to do?" You ask as you jump out of her bed.

"Get ready to get fucked by Taehyung. Duh." She says before rifling through her closet. 

With a snort you shut the door behind you before sighing loudly. "Okay, Yoongi. It's on." You whisper before cracking your knuckles and walking towards your bedroom.

Yoongi throws himself on his bed. The California King size is way too large for him. It's seen only him for years now and he can't seem to get as comfortable in the constantly cold sheets like he used to.

Propping his pillows up, he leans against the headboard. Tuesday, the greatest day of the week has arrived. He wonders if you've seen the video that was just released. Did you hate it? Were you too caught up to watch it? He has so many questions that he could speak outwardly just to fall on deaf ears and stagnant air. 

Opening up today's chapter, his eyes scan the regular genre and warnings. But the author's note-- that catches his eye.

Author's Note: I SEE that someone really enjoyed the first chapter of TO and for that...I'm very grateful.

He clears his throat loudly before sighing. The smile that radiates off his face would blind even the most ardent sun lover. His fingers tremble, heart beating voraciously inside of his chest. It takes him a second before he's ready to continue on.

"She saw it." He whispers to himself before sniffing gently.

Crossing his feet he scrolls down the page. Eyes reading the words so fast due to sheer excitement that he has to read them over again to absorb their meaning.

It was the coldest of nights when he invited you back to his hotel room. You knew he was only going to be around for so long and you felt the pressing need to see him for as long as you could. 

You had always made fun of coffee dates. Always joking and jeering with the ever so clever roommate you heartily loved. Ana was your rock in a very baron land. She implored you to go on the date with him anyway, knowing his career and who he was. Maybe he would be different than every other man, or maybe he would just be the best lay.

"You thought coffee was only for cheapskates, huh?" Yoongi asks as he ushers you into the hotel room.

With a giggle you past the entrance, "Something me and my roommate Ana have said before." 

He hums understanding before closing the door behind him. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea. Just because I have the job I do, doesn't mean that I invited you back here to fuck." He says as you shrug off your coat.

He graciously takes it before hanging it on the door hook. "When will I ever get to fuck the esteemed Min Yoongi again?" You quip back to him as you fold your arms.

His smile dazzles you. Sets your breathing irregular as he cards his fingers through his black hair. "Oh, little one. Quite often I hope." He whispers before stepping towards you.

His hands press to your sides, caressing them gently as his head tilts to the side. Cinnamon brown irises flitting from here to there as he drinks you in. His pupils begin to widen, like molten hot tar spreading over the Earth. "I enjoy spending time with you. And, I'm okay with doing just that." He whispers, running his thumb over your bottom lip slowly. 

The smooth pad of his thumb sends your stomach alight with something akin to fire. Burning hot and bright inside of you, you step closer to him. "And I'm okay with being here. With you." 

He takes your words as a confirmation. Pressing his lips eagerly to yours, you find yourself melting in his strong arms. Lips collide, tongues lashing out at one another as you grip tightly at his biceps. 

It's your earnest whimper that sends him into action. His greedy hands grabbing at your thighs before hauling you up easily. "God, your lips are so soft. I bet they'll feel like heaven around my cock." He whispers against you.

His feet pad slowly across the granite floor before you're pressed up against the grey wall of his hotel room. Your fingers knit into his black hair, tugging gently as you angle his face higher. Nipping at your bottom lip, he suckles once coaxing a sweet moan from your throat. "Fuck." He growls as your legs wrap around his waist.

Yoongi chuckles to himself before pulling his erect cock from his briefs. "What're you playing at Nevermore?" He murmurs as his thumb slowly drifts over the reddened tip of his cock. 

His lips trail over your cheek, the kisses erupting a lava like pool within your stomach. Your lips part for air as he suckles away at your collarbone, leaving cherry blossom petals in his wake. "You're incredible." He says, before pulling down the low cupped shirt you wear.

Your breasts spring out, pushed up by the cups and he lets out a wanton groan at the sight. "God, look at your sexy nipples."

He lets out a breathy laugh, fist beginning to jerk at his cock faster. His tongue licks over his lips before moaning. "Oh fuck. She really watched it. So hot." He whispers to the still air of his room. Even with lust filled eyes, he pays attention to every written word. Gasping gently at each moment as he reads it through. 

His lips, colder now against your heated skin, drift over the valley of your breasts. Stopping over each areola to pluck at your stiff nipples. Your gasps elicit the only reaction worthy, his hips thrusting against you with each sound. "Shit." He curses before suckling harshly at the sensitive skin. 

His tongue flicks so fast against your stiff peaks that your head lolls back with heady wanting. It's in this moment that his name rolls off of your tongue. He stops for a second, fingers kneading at your ass before smirking. "Say it again." He commands through gritted teeth before slapping the thick globes beneath his palms.

"Y-Yoongi." You whimper out and his eyes roll back before latching onto your attended breast. His hands bunch up your skirt tugging roughly at the fabric. "You wet for me? Hmm?" 

His fingers dip between your asscheeks, feeling at the fabric of your panties. Your breath hitches as he pushes them aside. Running his fingertips over your folds, you whine out his name. "You're soaked, little one. Jesus." He thrusts a finger into you without warning-

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Yoongi chants as his cock throbs in hand. His phone clatters to the pillow beside his face as his eyes screw shut. "Oh Christ!" He whines loudly before cumming. 

In a sea of stars, he sees the image of Y/N so clearly as he orgasms. Ropes of cum smatter onto his raggedly breathing chest. He gasps loudly before tilting his head to his phone. "Fuck. She's good." He whispers before looking down at his chest and throwing his head back to his pillow.

Yoongi groans loudly as he sits down on set. The Americano in his hand getting cooler by the second as he skims through the script for what seems like the hundredth time. 

"Hoseok tells me you have suggestions." Namjoon, the director says. Yoongi smirks at him before nodding. He holds his hand out to his manager who grunts gently. With a sigh he hands Yoongi the packet of papers before shaking his head.

"This. This is gold. Just read it." He tells the director as he hands him the packet. His thumb skims over the pages before giving a defeated sigh. 

"Okay. I'll read it." He says before looking over at Yoongi's co-star. She smiles briefly, nodding in his direction and he feels a sense of calmness.

His co-star today was one of the better ones. She was sweet, naturally pretty and fun to have banter with. "Lin. Hey." He calls to her as the director skims through the packet.

"Hey Yoongs!" She cheers. Walking over, he finds himself staring at her. She would make a good Y/N, most of the things described in Take One would fit her nicely. She leans against his chair casually before running her fingers through her hair. 

"I heard we might be switching it up." She points her thumb backwards to Namjoon as he continues to read.

"Yeah. I just...read this idea somewhere and I thought it was great." Yoongi announces to her as Hoseok grabs her a chair. 

Sitting down she nods calmly, "What's it about?" 

"Steamy first date sex. Coming back after a coffee date and just fucking up against the wall. It was pretty hot." He admits, thinking back to the sheer amount of cum that landed on his chest because of it.

"You have the arm strength to hold me up?" Lindy jokes as she pushes him with her shoulder.

"You still have those thighs of steel? I might need your help on this one." She gives a laugh before turning her attention to the director. 

"Genius." Namjoon comments as he smacks his palm to the top page of the packet, "Let's do it." 

Yoongi smiles widely before looking at Lindy as she grabs the packet. 

"You're soaked little one. Jesus." Yoongi mumbles against Lindy's neck as he thrusts a finger in without warning. She moans loudly, eyes screwing shut as he expertly curls his finger within her.

His cock was so hard already, knowing you would watch this and knowing that it's from your book. Lindy was quick at learning the lines, expertly acting as the perfect Y/N he could only hope for. 

"Fuck!" She curses, nails gently scraping down his arms. He groans gently, suckling at the column of her throat as he adds a second finger. 

"Your pretty pussy is so tight." He says as he scissors her open, her arousal practically dripping down his hand. 

"Y-Yoongi." The gentle tone in her voice makes his arms quake. Y/N would whimper for him like this he bets. 

Picking her back up off of the wall, Lindy discards her top. It's almost feverishly fast how his lips attach to her nipple. Groping at the skin of her ass, kneading roughly he spanks her hard. She gasps loudly, breasts thrusting towards his face. 

"Once I saw you, I only wanted this. To feel you in my hands like putty. To-" He scissors her pussy open wider for his cock, "-To feel your soaked cunt stretch around my big cock." 

His hand leaves her cunt only to unbutton his jeans. She kisses down his neck, nipping gently at the skin in her euphoric pleasure. "I want your big cock inside of me." 

He groans at her words, pressing her harder into the wall. Cock springing out, he coats the underside in her arousal before lifting her easily by her thighs. "Thighs of steel, get ready." He jokes, almost silently into Lindy's ear and he can hear a gentle snort in reply. 

He positions her entrance above his cock before pressing his lips to hers. The kiss is heated, tongues tangling with one another as he slowly sets her down. Her mouth opens wider at the stretch, his teeth biting and pulling at her bottom lip with a moan. 

"God, you're fucking tight." He mumbles as her hands snake around his neck. 

He was in his element now. Thinking of the book and becoming his book counterpart. Knowing just how crazed Yoongi in the texts becomes at the feel of Y/N's pussy on him. He could practically cum right now on the spot and it sends him into a pleased fury. 

"Y/N." He whispers, closing his eyes. He doesn't realize what he has said until Lindy leans in to him. 

"Easy now, big guy. Don't put your girlfriends name in." His eyes snap open before clearing his throat. 

"Sorry, Lin." He says before thrusting roughly within her. Her hands scramble to grip him tighter as he begins to fuck her for all she's worth.

"Goddammit! You feel so fucking good! Oh shit!" He whines loudly and his eyes flutter shut as he pictures Y/N on his cock. 

Teeth gritting, he rolls his hips filling every nook and cranny of her cunt. She was the perfect vessel for this, transporting him to a cloud high above nine as he bulldozes himself inside of her. Every sound, Lin's gasps and moans send him on the right track of hearing Y/N's voice. She was practically alive off the page for him. 

"Fuck! Your cock feels so good!" She whines as he lifts her hips off of the wall. His tongue licks over his lips as his cock impales her deeper. 

"Rub your clit for me, little one." Bunching up her skirt, she rubs at her clit and he can feel his cock already throbbing. He should keep himself at bay, finish the scene but this was the first time he would be finishing inside someone in almost two years. He can't pass this up.

"Yoongs." Lindy warns as he presses his lips into a straight line. 

"God, little one. You're going to make me cum, your pussy feels too fucking good." He skipped a bunch of lines to get to this one. He can't bring himself to feel sorry though as white hot pleasure courses through him. He could see her behind his shielded eyes, could see Y/N drooling for his big cock as he fucks her. He could hear her whimpers and moans as he fucks her open. 

He could feel Lin's fingers moving in frenzied circles to get off on him and he chokes on a moan as he buries his face into her neck. "Y/N. Fuck. Your pussy is so amazing. Oh, God!" He whines as his cock throbs wildly within her begging for release.

In her heady pleasure, she forgoes chiding him. Instead, she orgasms loudly. Moans ricocheting off the walls of the set as her pussy clamps around his huge cock. "Y/N! Oh shit!" He gasps out loudly as his thighs lock.

He doesn't notice the camera panning to where they're conjoined. He certainly doesn't notice how much he babbles Y/N's name. Lin runs her fingers through his hair, tugging roughly and that's all it takes before he's stuttering inside of her. 

"Oh SHIT!" He yells out as his cock gives a final twitch of pleasure. He cums hard, arms and thighs shaking as her pussy becomes painted white with his seed. Her thighs clamp around him, holding herself up as he practically goes limp before her. His eyes fill with pleasurable tears and he brings himself back to reality to hold her to the wall.

Pulling out of her gently, he finds it immensely satisfying to see his cum finally leak from a pussy after so long. He moves out of the way of the camera before running his fingers through his hair. "Oh fuck." He murmurs realizing now what he's said in his hedonistic pleasure.

"Please cut out Y/N's name." He tells Namjoon who simply nods as Lindy spreads her pussy lips for the camera. She sticks her tongue out at Yoongi and he gives an exhausted chuckle before closing his eyes. Nevermore is the first person to make him cum like this in years.

"You alright?" Lin asks as the prep team cleans her up. Yoongi sighs happily before nodding to her. 

"Oh yeah, I'm great. Sorry I said her name during that." He tells her and she scoffs before rolling her eyes.

"Don't apologize. It felt good to be Y/N." She says before kissing his cheek. 

It felt really good to be Yoongi too.

Sitting down in your living room, it's become a ritual now-- or so Viola says, to watch every new porn Min Yoongi puts out. "This is the most canon like thing that's ever happened in my lifetime." Vi says as she throws herself down beside you. 

She scrolls through the new video playlist before casting it onto your television. Opening a bag of chips, she holds it out to you. 

"I'll probably choke." You murmur as you settle in to watch the new video. She snorts loudly before munching on a chip. 

"This is so exciting. You know, I cancelled a date with Taehyung for this." She informs you before pressing play. Placing a pillow on your lap you bury your chin into the soft fabric before tilting your head to her.

"What's the name of this one?" 

"'Cheap dates.'" She says before throwing the remote onto the coffee table and giving the screen her undivided attention.

"You're soaked little one. Jesus." Yoongi whispers and the embarrassed laugh that bubbles forward is almost ridiculous. You bury your face into the pillow and you get a quick swat on your arm from your best friend reprimanding you.

"Pay attention! He's fingering her." You laugh louder now, picking your head up slowly. 

It's almost like a fever dream. Watching him reenact the scenes you've so earnestly written. After the initial shock and horror of it all, it kind of became flattering. Knowing that he was so into it. There was something inside of you stirring. 

"Goddammit. You feel so fucking good." You say right before he says his line. The overwhelming sense of pride you feel while watching this makes your heart swell. It’s almost as if he was your greatest supporter. It’s a deeper understanding of knowing how connected you are just by the words you write. 

“It really is exactly like the second chapter.” Viola says. Her voice rips you out of your day dream like state. 

You watch as Yoongi becomes almost animalistic, driving himself into the woman wrapped around him. It stirs you, your thighs pressing together inherently as your lips part. 

“He seems like he’s real into it. Look at him.” Your best friend murmurs and you can’t deny her words as he skips half of the scene in his deep seated pleasure. As he buries his face in her neck you can hear his soft grunting and babbling like there’s no tomorrow.

“Y/N.” The end of your name gets tapered off quickly and you sit up quickly at his moan. Your pussy clenches around nothingness, head turning to your roommate as her jaw drops wide open.

“Did you just hear him s-” Your voice is cut off by hers as she leans in to look at the television.

“Oh yeah.” She whispers before covering her mouth with her hand. 

It’s an awkward silence as he finishes his scene. Heart racing at the speed of sound. Your palms begin to sweat as you stare at his lusty haze. Watching his arms and legs shake with bouts of euphoria. “Y/N. This is… I mean… He’s thinking of you when he fucks someone else.” Vi whispers.

“No. He’s thinking of the book character. I’m just Nevermore to him.” You feel a sense of overwhelming pride as he gently sets his co-star down on the ground. Her pussy creams with his cum before the video ends and you find your body hurtling itself back into the couch with a sigh. 

“Post a selfie.” Viola says quickly before throwing your phone into your lap. Your head turns to her in confusion as she waves her arms wildly. 

“What?!” Your voice is exasperated as she moves her hands faster. 

“Post a selfie on your blog and as soon as he likes the post then just take it down.” She says before unlocking your phone for you. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, not truly understanding what she’s trying to get at.

“Why?”

“Because you’re fucking hot and he needs to know what you look like! Just trust me! Did I get the hottest guy in a four mile radius to talk to me by just posting a selfie?” You nod slowly to her and she winks at you.

“Trust me. Just do it.” You shrug before opening up your camera. 

“Pull these babies out.” Viola says as she pulls down your tank top to show your cleavage and you narrow your eyes at her as she shifts you around before humming to herself.

Fixing your hair, you tilt your head and she tuts her tongue beside you. “Just lips and tits.” She tells you and you sigh gently.

“Why?” You ask again.

“Because your eyes are the element of surprise. Just listen to me for once in your life, please.” 

Sighing loudly you do as told, taking a picture of your lips and the curvature of your cleavage. Viola hooks her chin over your shoulder before smiling. “Wow, your boobs look great.” She comments before patting your upper back. 

Opening up Tumblr, you attach the photo before looking at Vi. She grabs the phone before smirking and you read over her shoulder as she types in a comment.

Feeling like Y/N today!

You snort as she posts it, breath catching in your throat as she replays the porn video. 

“What’re you going to do after the shoot?” Yoongi asks his manager as he slings his leather jacket over his shoulders in one smooth motion. He watches Hoseok shift from foot to foot awkwardly. Raising an eyebrow, he leans against the door jamb waiting patiently for a response. 

“I’m actually going out with Lindy today. We...um...Started talking after your last shoot.” Hoseok mumbles. 

Yoongi gives him a gummy smile before clapping him on the back. “Have fun. She’s really nice, seriously.” 

Pulling out his phone, Yoongi takes into account how Hoseok smiles to himself before fixing his clothes. It’ll be good for him to go out with someone. Yoongi knows exactly what it’s like to be lonely. “I’ll head out first then.” Hoseok tells him as he opens up his Tumblr app.

“Have fun, go fuck her so hard she’ll feel it in her kidneys or whatever you say.” Hoseok snorts at his words before tapping his hand against the door frame as he leaves. Picking up his shoulder bag, the first thing he thinks is if Nevermore has watched his latest video.

He hasn’t seen it but he never watches his works after they’re released. There’s something truly cringey about it. Since it was Sunday, a new chapter of Bjorn and Kyla is out. The second to last chapter which seems almost heart wrenching before remembering he has his own story that has only just begun. Clicking on her profile, his legs quake at the image. 

“Oh shit.” He whispers at her selfie. 

She was all natural. No botox like he’s used to seeing. No breast implants. Just Nevermore. And from what he could see, she was right up his alley. There was a small seam between her tank top and breast showing black lace from her bra. His bottom lip finds itself tucked between his teeth as he leans against the door frame. God, she looks cute. Her lips are parted and he imagines his tongue dipping between them, caressing the pink petals. 

His pants begin to tighten and he locks his phone without a second thought.

Getting home for him was almost a blur. Nevermore's lips and chest constantly in the forefront of his brain. Her lips just gently parted as they were, they seemed to hold an innocence to them that intrigued him. She writes such glorious works, the filthiest of sex scenes and she still had this air of innocence. He was so enraptured by a quick glimpse of a photo that he was even wondering if he himself were changing. Changing into a man who wished for something deeper, something fulfilling. 

Throwing himself down on his couch, he unlocks his phone. Her picture was gone from his dashboard and he sighs gently. 

"Damn." He whispers before refreshing the page again. Just a single post from her. Just one line that sent his lips into a full on smile.

Just a taste for you.

It was kind of exciting. This backhanded flirting that you two have gotten yourselves into over a mere book. You would write and he would act. He would moan your name, close his eyes and dream as if he was inside your book. You would write with the intention to see him act it out. 

Yoongi sips his coffee, the first Tuesday he's had off in a long time does not come without excitement. Refreshing your blog, he tilts his head at the new chapter. "What're we getting into today." He whispers before leaning back in his chair.

Softly his fingertips caress your skin, eyes alight with wondrous emotions as you stare at each other in the grandiose bed. The morning sun alerts you, it's golden rays peeking in the window as if to chide you for not having slept all night long.

"I think I love you." Yoongi admits, his voice deep with tiredness as his arm encircles your waist. You begin to smile, eyes creasing with delight. Running your fingers through his black hair, you feel his lips against your shoulder.

"I think I love you too." You whisper before giggling as he straddles you.

"Let me make love to you and show you-" 

"Oh God." Yoongi mumbles as he sets down his coffee. Love? God, what even is that? Now he really wishes that he was like his book counterpart. So sure and sound with himself that he could venture out to find love with other people. It almost nauseates him as he continues reading. Jealousy creeping up inside of him like venom. 

Nevermore's beautifully written words make him seem devoid of feeling anything at all. He wants to be this Yoongi, so badly it's almost eating him alive.

His fingers press the backspace before opening up the messenger page. Clicking on her name he tilts his head as his fingers fly over the keyboard.

Min1993: I don't make love, Nevermore.

Sending the message, he hums to himself. Before he can pick up his coffee he widens his eyes. "Oh fuck! You idiot what did you do?!" He yells before trying to will his phone to unsend the message.

With an exasperated sigh, he throws his arms up annoyed with himself. Shoving his phone away, he buries his face in his arms before scoffing.

"I don't make love." He mocks himself before closing his eyes.

"VIOLA GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!" The screech that emits from you earns a clattering in the kitchen and wild cursing. You stand up from your phone as if it has caught fire, both of your hands slapping over your mouth. Your eyes widen at the message, the five words on the screen feel as if they're stabbing you.

"What?!" Viola yells as she stomps into your bedroom. With shaking hands, you point at your phone before swallowing. She hip checks you out the way, drying her hands on the kitchen towel. 

"I just broke the ceramic dish me and Taehyung made at the pott- OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!" She screams as she drops the towel. She jumps on your bed, picking up your phone and you close your eyes. 

Writing for him and seeing what he does is one thing. Getting a message from him is clearly another thing altogether. It's with a shaky sigh that you run your hands over your face. 

"He messaged you. I can't believe it and-" She looks over the message before smirking, "He's flirting with you."

With a scoff you look up at the ceiling. Your eyes drift from here to there, not focusing on anything with certainty. Drifting past one of his porns randomly had gotten you here? Flirting with one of the hottest men you'd ever seen in your life. This was like fiction in and of itself. Pushing past your insecurities, your insides clamor with excitement. Arms and legs shaking with adrenaline. 

"Go on! Answer him!" Vi says before pulling you down to sit next to her. Your hands quiver as you take the phone from her, thumbs nervously shivering above the keyboard.

NevermoreWrites: Then what do you do, Yoongi?

"God, imagine if he asks you out on a date? Imagine he fucks you?" She asks, getting comfortable on your bed. 

Her voice falls on deaf ears as you stare at the phone. That nervous niggling beginning to eat at you again. This banter that you'll begin to engage in, where will it lead you? If he wants to meet, you would dare show your face to him? Even after describing Y/N in the books exactly like yourself? 

The insanely loud pop of the Tumblr messenger goes off and you jump from your nervous spell to look at your phone. 

Min1993: I would love to give you some pointers. If you'd be interested. I think myself more of a Bjorn than anything else.

You gasp gently, sending Viola scrambling into your lap. He's read your other books before? Oh God! 

"Amazing! He's amazing! It's official and he has a huge cock!" Viola says before slapping her thighs in a defeated manner.

NevermoreWrites: A Bjorn? Wow, I'm impressed. 

You run your sweaty hands over the knees of your sweatpants. You tilt your head to Viola as she smiles widely. 

Min1993: I've been a fan for a long time Nevermore. Seriously, I have ideas. Give me a call 3721-8724.

Both of you in your room lowly whistle at the same time before laying back on your bed. Your heart beat fills your ears as your roommate giggles. You lay silently for a while before turning to look at one another. 

"So you gonna call him?" She asks quietly as you put your hand over your heart.

"Mhm." You hum to her before beginning to smile. Maybe this project that you began for just yourself is turning into something even bigger than you could ever imagine.

Yoongi doesn't do nervous. He hasn't been nervous since his first audition where he had to have his cock measured. But now, waiting for your phone call, he finds himself incredibly nervous.

Throwing the fourth empty water bottle in the trash, he paces around his kitchen. Even after drinking so much water, his mouth still felt dry. He even put on nice clothes for a phone call. "Something is wrong with me." He whispers to his empty apartment.

This woman, that he's waiting on. The woman he's been a fan of for so long now is going to call him. And, he hopes to the new gods and the old that he doesn't make a fool of himself. Pacing the granite floor of the kitchen, he wills himself to keep his eyes off his phone. Staring at the clock of his oven instead as seconds feel like years. 

It's the ringtone that makes him jump. Knocking over the container of kitchen tools on his counter, he curses before picking up his phone. Taking a deep breath, he answers the call.

"Hello?" His voice is steady, which he is grateful for. But the way his chest vibrates with anxiousness makes him grimace.

"Hi." Your voice is soft. Sending shivers down his spine as he leans against the marble countertop. Your voice sounds so sweet to his ears. 

"Nevermore." The word becomes breathless as he begins to smile.

"Yoongi." 

God, his name from your lips is gold. Shoving off of the counter, his heart finds its regular rhythm. His feet pad to the living room before flopping onto the couch with a sigh.

"I am a big fan of your work." He admits to you. You giggle at his compliment, sending butterflies aflutter in his gut.

“And I am a big fan of your work.” He gives a devious chuckle, his arm finding its way beneath his head as he gets comfortable.

“God, this is nerve wracking.” You say and he can hear your breathless laugh behind it.

The image of your lips, parted ever so slightly and your cleavage come to mind. Swiping his tongue over his lips, he doesn’t find it odd how at ease he has already begun to feel.

“I thought the same thing, but your voice is very calming.” Even without seeing you, he likes to think you’re smiling as widely as he is at his words. 

“Yours too.” You whisper and he can hear shuffling on the other end of the line.

“I really am a big fan. I’ve read all of your books before even seeing that you were writing a series about me.” His fingers play with the hem of his charcoal grey button up shirt as he stares at the ceiling.

“Did I get anything right so far?” You ask him quietly. Your voice was as eloquent as your writing. Every word sounded like a song he never could tire from.

“Some things. I’m a fan of the Yoongi in your book. He’s much braver than me, I like how you portray me. Far better than myself, I’m sure.” He hears you snort gently and he chuckles in return.

“Just because you fuck as a job, doesn’t mean you aren’t human.” You tell him. And, the curse that slips past your lips begins to stir something inside of him.

“You did however get something wrong.” He murmurs, his voice becoming a bit more gravelly as he runs his hand over his chest. The gasp you take, the quick sound has his tongue slowly traipsing along his lower lip as he begins to smirk.

“What did I get wrong?” You ask and the nervousness bubbles through easily. Clearing your throat, he takes that second to chuckle to himself.

“Oh, Nevermore. I don’t make love. I fuck every way till Sunday.” His voice is smooth as velvet, and he finds his cock beginning to stir in his jeans.

“Oh God.” Your voice is faint and you sound like you’re about to pass out.

“I can stop. Or I can show you my ideas on how to make it feel more like me. If you want, we can always just talk about Bjorn or Kyla. What the last chapter is going to be about next week.” He says quickly, hoping he didn’t give you the impression that all he wants is to have phone sex. Because, in all honesty, he doesn’t. He wants to get to know you. Wants to know how your wonderful brain can write such amazing, illuminating things. But, the prospect of you all for him right now is something he cannot pass up.

“No...No. I just haven’t done something like this in a long time.” You admit with a laugh. He chuckles to himself before pulling his arm out from beneath his head.

“We’ll take it slow.” He murmurs before hearing your hum of agreeing.

“Tell me your name. Please.” He hears your unsure hum and he tilts his head. Forehead resting to the couch cushion as he practically feels your hesitant stutter.

“Or don’t. I can call you Nevermore.” He says quickly, hoping to not ruin the mood.

“Y/N.” You whisper.

He chuckles at this. Eyes closing before sniffing. But, you don’t laugh along with him.

“Y/N? Like in the book?” He asks humorously. 

“Yes. Like in the books. My name is Y/N.” Your voice is devoid of any playfulness. Yoongi sits up quickly, fingers carding through his black hair as he nods. You were deathly serious. But, it doesn’t put him off. No. If anything his cock strains harder against the unforgiving tightness of his jeans. With a sigh, he unbuttons them before licking his lips. 

“Fuck. That’s hot.” He announces and the breath of relief you give makes him lay back down. 

“It was supposed to be for me and my readers… I-I never thought that you would re-”

“Y/N.” His voice is quick as he cuts you off, “Shall we begin, little one?”

He can hear your sweet low whine before you hum in agreement. Unbuttoning his shirt slowly, he lets his fingers drift over the smooth skin of his chest.

“You got my cock real hard over here, baby. I’m thinking about that cute little picture you posted for me.” He whispers as he unzips his jeans. 

“Did you like it?” The softness of your voice sends his nerves wrought with excitement.

“Fuck yes. You should have kept it up just a little longer. I was getting hard in public over your little slutty display.” Your gasp elicits a groan from his throat. 

“I wanted you to see how much I appreciated you using my scene in one of your movies.” He finds it cute that you don’t use the word porn like it isn’t something he does almost every day. 

“You can show me now how much you appreciate it. What’re you wearing?” He asks as he tugs off his jeans, throwing them over the lip of the couch without a care. 

“I’m wearing just panties and a t-shirt.” You reply and he groans louder at the thought.

“Fuck. You’re going to take everything off for me, do you understand?” He asks as he discards his button up shirt to the floor.

“Yes.” He curses quietly at your submissive answer before pulling his cock out of his briefs. 

“Your lips looked so pretty parted like that. I want them around my cock.” His hand shakes as he reaches for the length of his cock. Precum beginning to pool at the slit as you keen on the other end of the phone. 

“I’ve wanted to feel you all over me since I first saw your videos.” You admit to him.

“Fuck, I bet you do baby. Touch your nipples for me.” 

With a gentle gasp, you reach for your breasts. Your breath is hitched as you cup them in hand. “Roll your nipple with your fingers and pinch.” He instructs you and your hips bow off the bed at his request.

God, how were you here doing this right now? With him? THE Min Yoongi having phone sex with you. 

Whimpering, you roll your nipples between your fingertips. “I bet you look so pretty playing with your tits, little one.” The use of the pet name that you wrote for him sends you into a frenzy. Stomach unfurling with lava like heat as your legs spread wider on the bed.

“Yoongi, please. I need more.” You beg. The devilish chuckle he gives has liquid arousal seeping out of you towards the mattress.

“You need more? You’ve already seen my cock. I need to picture what your sweet cunt would feel like around me. How you would beg me to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.” You pant at his words, breath devoid in your chest as your toes curl.

“Touch your aching pussy for me, then.” He whispers and you hear his breath hitch on the other end of the line. Your hand dips down your stomach, all the while your fingers continue to pinch and roll your nipples. 

Spreading your pussy lips, you’ve surely never felt yourself this wet before. “My pussy is so wet for you.” 

“Jesus, fuck.” He mutters out and you try to imagine how he looks right now. Laying down with his bottom lip clasped between his teeth. Droplets of sweat sticking to his black sideburns. “I bet your pussy is nice and swollen, hmm? Your clit is probably real sensitive, begging to be touched. Why don’t you rub your clit for me, little one?” 

Doing as told you run your middle finger around your clit in gentle circles. Pressing your lips into a straight line you whimper out quietly. He tuts his tongue in a way that makes your eyes roll back. “Who told you to keep quiet? I want to hear you, Y/N.” 

“Fuck.” You mumble through gritted teeth. Hearing your name actually fall from his lips as he pleases himself, knowing it’s really you who he’s giving his pleasure to makes you moan louder. 

“That’s it. Fuck, you sound so hot. How wet are you for me? Put a finger in your cunt.” With a whine, you do as told. Running your fingers down your sodden lips before entering a finger into yourself. Grabbing your phone off the pillow beside you, you place the phone between your legs as you thrust your finger into yourself. 

The moan he gives is almost hedonistically evil, “Another.” 

Pushing the second finger in, the sounds of your soaked pussy emanate throughout the room and you moan his name loudly. “You’re so hot, Y/N. I swear to fucking God.” His voice sounds muffled as if he’s speaking through gritted teeth. 

“Yoongi. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me.” He whimpers out before groaning. 

“You got me edging myself baby. You sound so fucking good.” Thrusting your fingers, you let out a yelp as you curl them to the spongy spot inside of you. 

“Take them out.” You whine in defiance as you continue to build your pleasure higher. Your eyes roll back as you squeeze at your breast, hips lifting off of the bed.

“Y/N. Take them out of your pussy. Now.” His voice demands respect and submission and with a frown you take your fingers out of yourself. 

“If you aren’t going to listen. We aren’t going to play. I’ll hang up and cum alone, is that what you want?”

“No.” You mumble to him. He hums in agreement as you pick your phone back up from between your legs.

“Put your filthy slut fingers in your mouth and suck your slick.” It’s almost mind boggling how quickly he changed roles. But, fuck, if it doesn’t get you on edge. 

Entering your fingers into your mouth, you whimper at the musky taste on your tongue. “You taste how needy you are for my large cock? Bet it tastes good, doesn’t it? Knowing that your dripping for a porn star you’re dying to fuck.” 

Whining against your fingers, your pussy clenches around nothing as he lets out a laugh. “Spank your cum slut pussy. I want to hear it.” 

Your hand shakes as you rear back before slapping your cunt. “You can do better than that, slut. Slap your filthy cunt.” 

Fuck, how is he so goddamn hot? You slap your pussy, the feeling ricocheting through you as your body jolts. Gasping loudly, you end with his name on your lips.

“That’s it. Good girl, little one. You’re so good at following directions. Play with your clit again, you must be aching.” He says and you can hear movement on the other end of the line. 

“Are you touching your cock?” You ask him.

“Fuck yes. You’re driving me insane, baby.” Your clit throbs, aching to be touched and you concede. Rubbing smooth circles, you whine his name out only to hear a string of curses from his end of the phone. 

"Tell me what you want to do to me." You beg as you continue your ministrations. 

He gives a growl and your eyes roll back at the thought of him stroking his cock to you. "I want to stretch you out on the bed, body flayed for me. Make you cum on my cock so many times you'd go stupid for me. I wanna spank your naughty little cunt for even teasing me this badly." He admits and your whimper earns another curse from him.

"I want to suck your big cock, let you use me like a cocksleeve." 

"Jesus fucking Christ." He says breathlessly. 

"Put your fingers in your pussy. Cum for me, I want to hear it." Your fingers jump at the chance, leaving your breast to play with your sodden hole. 

"I want to bend you over a fucking table and spank you so hard. Want you to drool for my cock and cum. Wanna make you cry for it." You hear faster movement on his end, his breath hitching before groaning loudly.

Entering two fingers into yourself, you keen loudly for him. Toes curling as you set an unrelenting pace. You haven't felt this sexy or turned on in so long. "Did you cum for me?" You ask sweetly before tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Not yet, baby. I'm real good at keeping myself on edge. It's my job, remember. Curl your fingers to your g-spot." He tells you. 

Curling your fingers, your thighs become turse. "Yoongi! Fuck! I-I want to cum for you."

"That's it, little one. Keep going. You sound so gorgeous when you moan for me. Makes me want to please you so well."

"What else do you want to do?!" You ask quickly as the bubble inside of you begins to expand.

"What else? Baby, I want to do everything to you. Wanna suck on your sweet nipples until they're swollen and red for me. Fuck your cunt until your squirting all over me like a fucking slut. I especially want you to let me use your throat how I see fit and cut off your air with my cock. Watch you gasp for breath as you let me use you as a cocksleeve." You gasp for him, eyes screwing shut as your hips lift off the bed.

"Your pussy sounds so wet. You're making a fucking mess, I bet. I would love to lick it up. Taste your pretty litt-" You whine his name loudly, hips gyrating as you reach your precipice. "-Go ahead, little one. Cum for me."

Willing it to be so, you orgasm. Your head lolls back as your ears go deaf with white noise. You feel your cum leak out past your fingers as you fuck yourself through your orgasm. "Such a good girl." He praises as you whimper his name repeatedly. 

"Yoongi." You whine as you ride out your high.

"Still here, baby. I'm so close to cumming." He groans out.

Fisting his cock in hand, he can hear your exhausted pants on the other end of the line. His cock throbs wildly, having been edged to completion four times already.

"I want to suck your dick so badly. Let you cum in my mouth and swallow it. Show you I'm a good girl for you." Your voice is so gentle, so fucking sweet.

"Goddamn, Y/N. I'm- Baby, fuck!" He curses as he shoves his phone up to his shoulder off of his bare stomach.

"Want you to cum in my pussy and make me lick it off your cock." The beautiful thought of his cum glazing your lips and cheeks sends his fist stuttering.

"Y/N! Shit!" He yelps out as he orgasms. He gasps loudly, eyes screwing shut as he ruts his hips into the air. Warm ropes of cum land on his stomach as he moans for you.

"Jesus. Wow." He slurs out, feeling drunk off of the pleasure. 

There's silence for a bit as you both breath heavily. Yoongi's eyes slowly open before he chuckles to himself.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He asks as he uses his boxers to wipe his stomach. You hum in agreement and the sound tickles him pink as he turns his body on the couch.

"Until I read your stuff, I couldn't cum for a long time. I was really not excited about sex anymore until I read your works." He admits to you. 

"Really? But, you seem so into your work." He feels cozy now. This pillow talk going above and beyond anything he could have imagined. 

"I haven't been for a while. This was more erotic to me then most of the women I fuck." Your silence at his words makes him question if he's said something wrong. Picking skin off of his lip with his teeth, he waits for your reply.

"That makes me feel really warm to hear that." You finally say and he lets out a breath of relief before smiling. 

"Well it's true… Listen Y/N. I'd really like to continue talking to you. To get to know you more." 

"I'd like that, too."

"You fucking like it? Like trying to gasp for air around my cock? Hmm?" He seethes through his teeth as he thrusts his cock deeper into his co-stars throat. 

Yoongi has gotten amazing at shutting his eyes and picturing you behind his eyelids. He hasn't even seen you, yet. But, your conversations on the phone, the way you can giggle and talk for hours it was like a dream. A dream he would never want to wake up from. 

You were so real with him. Your personality is so magnetizing that it almost makes him feel like he's always known you. And in a way, he has known you. Your mind, your creativity and the way you write expressed something deep in your soul that he had always known.

The tap to his thigh makes him stop. Pulling his cock out of his co-stars mouth, he slaps it against her cheek. Smearing his precum and her spit over her face, he tugs her hair roughly before smiling. "Look at you, slut. Begging for daddy to stop when you practically got on your knees to grovel for my pleasure. What does that say about you? Hmm?" 

With a whimper she opens her mouth for him again, black mascara tinted tears streaming down her cheeks. "That's a good girl." He praises before entering his cock into her mouth. Your lips would be much better suited for the task he thinks. Remembering how you begged to let him cum in your mouth just to swallow his seed. 

"Jesus. That's it, little one." His cock throbs as her tongue swirls over the head. Pulling her closer with every thrust, his head lolls back. He wants to cum so badly. Wants to release and let the camera see his cum on his co-stars tongue knowing you'll watch it. 

"Fuck. Your slutty mouth feels so good around my cock, baby." He whispers through gritted teeth. He bets his life on it that you would whimper at the taste of his precum as your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs. That you would extend your tongue just to get every drop of his warm cum in your mouth. 

"Y/N! Fuck!" He yelps out as he orgasms. 

Disregarding the name he just said he taps her cheek roughly before pulling out. "Show me and then swallow for daddy, you slut." 

She does as told, the camera panning to her mouth before swallowing. "Good girl." He says before stepping away from the camera and her.

"Did you like it?" He asks as he cracks open his beer. 

With a laugh you hum unsurely, "I don't know. You seemed awfully pleased to cum in her mouth."

Rolling his eyes, he sips his beer before sitting down on his couch. "You know I was picturing your mouth around me, don't be silly." 

You giggle as a reply and he can hear clacking on your end of the phone call. "What're you up to? Writing?" He asks as he puts his feet up on the coffee table. 

"Yeah. Next weeks chapter of Take One." You tell him and he smiles at your words.

"Am I going to fuck you over a table again? That was hot." He mumbles over the lip of his beer bottle. 

"No. You're making love." You say seriously. Rapid tapping enters his ears and he sighs dejectedly. 

"You know I don't do that. I don't know how." He replies.

"I watched that video of you having sex with a woman on your wedding night." He gives a breathy snort before clearing his throat.

"Yeah but I didn't love her. I was acting. Your Yoongi in Take One is seriously in love with Y/N. He gets all emotional and shit." The sound pauses and silence invades his ears. He's gotten used to your long pauses, taking them as a sign of deep thought now rather than nerve wracking. 

"I'll teach you." You finally say to him. 

His eyebrows quirk up and he leans forward on the couch at your words. "You'll teach me?"

"Yeah. I'll teach you how to make love. Teach you how to feel emotion rather than just fucking someone till they can't remember their own name." 

"If you recall, last night you couldn't remember your own name after we had phone sex." He quips back, a smirk playing on his lips. 

"Yoongi."

"Y/N." 

"I'll teach you." You tell him sternly and who is he to say no.

"Yes ma'am." He replies quietly and he can practically feel your smile through the phone. 

"How about on Thursday? Your apartment or mine?" You ask.

He shivers at the thought before running his thumb over his bottom lip. Fuck, you were amazing. "Mine. Should I buy candles? Maybe rose petals? Decorate a heart on the bed with them?" He jokes to you.

"No. Just you and your pretty cock is fine." 

Fuck.

You stand in front of his front door, tilting your head at the brass numbers. You should feel more nervous that you are, you find yourself thinking. You were more excited than anything else. This is like finally seeing a lover after months of being away from one another. But, you’ve never seen each other. Only talked for long hours until the early hours of the morning. 

You feel comfortable talking with him though. Constantly finding yourself at odds with your gut as butterflies flutter endlessly within you. It just felt natural. You weren’t even that nervous for him to see you in your entirety after portraying Y/N in Take One exactly like yourself. 

Taking a deep breath you ring his doorbell. You can hear sound through the midnight blue door and your heart leaps with excitement. 

A minute feels like hours as you stand in the hallway. “Coming!” You hear faintly.

His voice is even rich and creamy through the door, sending your poor nerves on edge. You pull at the hem of your dress, teeth picking at the skin of your bottom lip.

 The door opens and you’re greeted with the handsome face you’ve only seen on screen. Breath catching in your throats, you both look each other over for a second. Taking in his black hair as it sweeps into his eyes and the black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Wow.” He’s the first to speak.

“Hi.” You whisper before clearing your throat. 

He looks like someone straight off the front page of a magazine. His obvious gawking makes you feel giddy, your stomach flipping and falling like you’re on a high rollercoaster descending to the ground. 

“Hey.” He says, a smile creeping onto his face.

You notice how his arm veins protrude as he pushes the door open wider. “Come in.” 

With the flurry of excitement, you don’t really take in much of his apartment. Besides the fact that it’s clean and neat. You mainly focus on him. On the way he swings the door shut and runs his hands over his face like he’s trying to ebb away a bout of nervousness. Min Yoongi getting nervous, why you’d never think that. 

He presses his back to the door and through his black jeans you can see his thigh muscles tensing. “Wou-Would you like a glass of wine?” He asks, before rubbing his hands together. 

“Sure. That’d be great.” You say.

He nods slightly, before rushing past you and you giggle quietly as you follow him. He’s so endearing. So absolutely handsome.

Rounding the corner, your eyes fall to his dining room table and you shake your head with a laugh at the many candles that are lit. “Very funny.” You say as he steps into the kitchen.

He chuckles to himself, not making eye contact with you as he pops the cork of the wine bottle. “They’re beeswax candles for wax play.” He mumbles and you let out a laugh before leaning down to the table. 

Elbows folding in on themselves, you look over the bright colors before tilting your head to him. Everything he’s doing, every movement and action is filled with tenseness and you feel sorry that he’s so nervous. 

“Yoongs?” You ask gently. 

His head whips to you as you call his name. His smile is gummy and gorgeous as he tilts his head. “You okay?” You question as he picks up the two glasses of red wine.

He hums in agreement before taking a deep breath and handing you the glass. He seems to have an inner struggle with himself as his hand reaches for yours. Probably wondering whether or not he should take it in his own hand. You let him work through it and you’re alright when he puts his hand back down to his side. 

His fingers flex and rub against the fabric of his pants as if he made the wrong call but you don’t say anything. It’s kind of nice to see his all power, sexy demeanor lost at the sight of you. It makes this real. Makes him real.

He shuffles over to the couch and you follow. Sitting down, he stares ahead at the art installation instead of where a television would be in normal living rooms. You can see him swallow multiple times, Adam’s apple constantly bobbing before shifting a glance over to look at you. 

“Nervous?” You ask him before sipping your wine. The flavor bursts in your mouth, undertones of stone fruits and Earth invading your senses. He takes a sip himself before leaning back into the couch and throwing his arm over the top.

“Honestly? A little. You’re exactly how I pictured you.” He says over the lip of the wine glass.

“And that’s a bad thing?” You ask playfully as you cross your legs.

“No! God! No, not at all! It’s kind of amazing. You’re really beautiful. I just don’t hang out with people much. I read your stories and just stay at home by myself.” He finally makes eye contact with you.

His onyx eyes focused solely on your face. They were holding emotions far more than you thought they would. It makes your heart clench, something deep inside of you falling into a cavern without anything holding you tethered. 

“Well, you’re exactly how I pictured you too.” You jeer and he chuckles in reply. 

He seems to relax after that, molding himself into the couch naturally. And you find it surprising how much you adore his not so cocky attitude like you see in his movies. “Your eyes are very pretty.” He announces before leaning over and putting down his wine glass on the coffee table. 

As he moves you can see his upper chest and you tilt your head at the sight. A god among men, perhaps. 

You cross your ankles, outstretching your legs and his eyes flit to your thighs. He licks his lips quickly before sitting back up. “Are you nervous?” He asks as he rests his back against the arm of the couch.

“Not really. I’m more excited to finally meet you, after talking for so long.” He smirks at this before folding his arms. 

“Who would have thought that you would be the one to put me on edge?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask with a laugh before taking another sip of wine. The alcohol burns nicely as it slides down your throat. Warming your stomach and your insides as he throws one leg up onto the couch bent at the knee. 

“You always seem so shy on the phone. I’m surprised it’s me that is feeling the effects so strongly of our meeting.” He says before holding up his hand as it shakes slightly. 

“I’m not shy on the phone. I’m submissive for you. That’s different.” You retort making him hum as you set down your glass of wine. 

Taking a deep breath, he looks you over once more. There’s something primal in his gaze, taking you in now like prey. He reaches forward, fingers sliding over your dress fabric. Your body turns towards him on instinct, ready for whatever he is going to offer. 

This is something you’ve come to terms with. You like him, kind of adore him actually. Talking with him on the phone, giggling and chatting for hours at a time made him seem so perfect. You were honest with one another, your connection very real.

"And are you going to be submissive for me today? If you choose to spend your time with me?" He asks quietly, the octave in his voice dropping so low you could practically feel the baritone shudder through you.

"No." You tell him confidently and he gives a short laugh before inching his way closer to you.

"And why not? You like it when I make you submit." He whispers. 

He was so close now, that his wine tainted breath fans over your face. 

With him being so close, you could see every emotion in his eyes. Every little thing calling out to you. His tongue slowly licks over his bottom lip and your groin twinges with satisfaction as he begins to smile lazily. 

"Because I came over here to teach you today." 

"Y/N." He whines. 

You watch the way his perfect lips part as he speaks your name. The way it rolls off his tongue like a plea and it makes your stomach coil. 

You press your hand against his clothed chest, feeling his pectoral muscles twitch and you feel power surge through you. He was yours to be with today, not anyone else. Not a co-star or any other person, just you. 

"Yoongi." You reply and you watch his breath catch in his throat. His eyes flutter shut and you smirk as he relaxes at your touch. 

"Say it again."

"Yoongi." He groans at the word and you sit up straighter at the effect you're having on him. It's with a simple giggle that you shove him backwards. He hits the arm of the couch with a grunt before opening his eyes.

Pupils blowing out with lust as his onyx irises gaze upon you. You crawl over his body, his hands finding their place on your thighs upon instinct. 

"I like hearing my name from you." He murmurs before showing you the column of his neck as your head bows down. 

You press your lips to his skin, the scent of fresh soap and linen breeching your nose as you give slow open mouthed kisses to his honey colored skin. His fingers dig harder into the flesh of your thighs and you could feel him trembling beneath you. 

"God, your lips. They feel so good." He whispers before swallowing thickly. 

Your hands roam over his shirt, as you suckle gently on his skin. He gasps gently, eyes fluttering shut as he holds you tightly. "I'm going to teach you." You whisper against his skin before nipping. 

His hips lift at the sting, eyebrows furrowing as he turns his head to give you more access. "Fuck." He seethes through gritted teeth. 

Your fingers begin to slowly unbutton his shirt, his hands snaking over your thighs to your hips before squeezing. "You're so fucking sexy. I knew you would look this good." He says as you lift up to unbutton properly.

"You're pretty hot yourself." You joke and he chuckles before looking back up at you. His thumb drifts over your bottom lip as he locks eyes with you. 

"You want me to feel emotion? You got it." 

Your chest puffs up at his words as you shove open his shirt. Revealing small abs and perfectly smooth skin, it's hard to find a place to focus as your eyes flit from here to there. His hands steady your hips before sitting up. 

He grabs you tightly before slinging you over his shoulder with a chuckle as he stands. "Yoongi!" You gasp out and he bends down just to pick up his wine glass. 

He chugs the contents before walking towards his bedroom. With this angle your eyes focus on his backside, every step contorting the muscles of his fit ass. Your hand reaches out for it and you feel a swat at your own backside. "Behave, little one." 

You whimper at his words, feeling arousal beginning to pool in your panties as he steps over the threshold of his room. You want to look around and take it all in but you're met with his bed first and foremost. 

Throwing you down, he runs his fingers through his hair before crawling over your body. The sheets are silk beneath you and you make out a painting on the wall before his face is in your sights. 

"What the fuck are you doing to me? Hmm? Getting me all nervous around you. Making me want to please you so well just to hear my name fall from your pretty lips." He asks as he runs his hands over your dress.

He discards his shirt and you watch his small abs flex under his taut skin with every breath. "Can I take this off?" He asks sweetly as his fingers find the zipper at the side of you.

You lift your body for him as he unzips. He groans at the sound before pressing his lips to your jaw. Sweet kisses glide over your skin and you gasp at the feeling. "I-I'm sup-supposed to be teaching you." You find the words to say as his lips trail down to your neck. 

He suckles gently at the skin, leaving pink and red rose petals in his wake. "I think I got the gist, little one." He whispers against you before nipping at your collarbone. 

Shoving your dress off of your body, he groans at the sight of you. "This is the bra you wore in that selfie, isn't it?" He asks, running his fingers over the black lace hem of the cups. 

You find it in yourself to hum in agreement as he throws your dress to the floor. You don't care how wrinkled it'll get, you can only focus on him as his hands reach for your almost bare body. 

You were making him feel something. Something he certainly isn't fucking used to. 

Knocking your legs open, he situates himself inside them. "Are you okay? Do you want to continue?" He asks for your confirmation as his hands run over your sides. 

"Yes. Fuck, yes." You whine. He chuckles before bending back down. His hands grab at your breasts, squeezing them rough enough to elicit a loud gasp from you. 

"Your skin is so soft, little one." His tongue laps over the skin atop your bra before tugging down the cups. Your breasts heave up at the action and he groans at the sight. 

"Look at your pretty nipples. Fuck." He curses before encircling your areola with his lips.

You were everything he had hoped to see. Everything he could possibly want and here, underneath him like this was sending him into overdrive. 

His hips rut in the air as he flicks at your nipple with the tip of his tongue. Rolling and squeezing your other breast in hand. Your back bows for him, gentle moans escaping your throat as your legs spread wider.

Your hands grasp at his strong shoulders. As he forsakes your nipple to leave his marks around the skin of your breast. "God, you're fucking amazing." He mumbles before moving to your other breast.

Whining his name, your hips lift up begging for more. Hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties, he slowly pulls them down. Tugging on your nipple with his lips as he leaves your core bare for him. "Spread." He instructs.

You find it arousing how he hasn't even looked down below yet. As if he's waiting to reveal it to himself like the greatest gift. Spreading your legs for him, you can feel strings of arousal breaking and snapping to your inner thighs. 

His lips trail down the valley of your breasts and your breath becomes caught in your chest. His thumbs flick at your nipples as he takes his time, kissing and suckling every inch of you. "What the fuck? Were you made for me? You're so perfect." He says before dipping his tongue into your belly button.

"Yoongi." You whimper out as your fingers find his soft locks. Tugging on it, he growls against your skin before looking up at you. 

"Keep doing that and I'm going to forget this whole love making thing and fuck you till your bow legged." He promises and you tug gently at his hair with a giggle. 

He rolls his eyes in response but you don't miss the smirk he gives. He shoves your legs open roughly and your jaw drops in excitement. He kisses at the bare mound of flesh of your pubic bone before picking his head up. His hums to himself, tongue licking over his lips. 

His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he makes a V motion with his fingers opening your pussy lips for him. He stares lewdly at your cunt and you could see his hard cock throb through the leg of his jeans. "Look at your pretty little cunt. You're fucking dripping." He mumbles before rearing down and spitting. 

You moan at the feeling, hips thrusting into the air. 

His fingers glide over your soaked cunt. Your eyes screwing shut as he prods at your entrance with a finger. "Eyes open. Watch me." He instructs. 

Your eyes snap open as he nestles his face between your thighs. He breathes in deeply before latching his lips to your now swollen clit. 

"Oh fuck!" You whine loudly as your back bows off the bed.

His mouth was so incredibly skilled, lapping at your clit with such expertise. 

His eyes were on yours as he devours your needy pussy. 

He gives a flat stripe to your sex, before showing you the amount of arousal on his tongue and swallowing greedily. "You taste so fucking good." He mumbles before suckling at your clit again. 

You keen loudly, hands fisting tightly at his hair as he flicks the tip of his tongue to you. Your body jolts with pleasure as you mumble his name. 

Without warning he enters a finger into you. He himself moaning against your sex at the tightness of your dripping pussy. "God! Yoongi!" 

He hums in agreement before lifting up, slowly he drips his spittle from his mouth. You watch with keen eyes as it meets your cunt before he's ravaging you once more. Grinding your clit to the flat of his tongue, you feel white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins. Your skin feels aflame, your stomach tightens as you course towards the precipice. 

He curls his finger inside of you before slipping in another easily. "God look at you, so eager to cum for me, little one. So gorgeous." He praises and you whine as he lets you ride his tongue again.

He could feel his cock begging to be released from the confines of his jeans. Straining so tightly to the fabric as he precums at the sight of you losing all semblance of reality. You were gorgeously fucked out beneath him, cheeks tinged pink with arousal. He feels something stirring in his gut, something completely different than arousal. An emotion that sends him aflutter and he wonders if he's catching real, true feelings for you.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum on my tongue." 

Tugging on his hair harder, he groans against you. The vibration shoots through you as your eyes become spotty. Gasping for air, you babble his name as the tightness within you is almost too much to take. It's the image of him as he picks up his head that makes you lose it. Lips, cheeks and chin coated thickly in your arousal and you careen over the precipice as his fingers lovingly strike the soft bunch of nerves inside of you. 

You see stars as you orgasm. Hips undulating violently as your ears ring with white noise. "Goddamn." You hear from him faintly as your thighs shake.

He watches you lay so fucked out beneath him and he smiles. Yeah. He's caught fucking feelings. Moving up your body, he presses gentle kisses to your nipples before kissing you. 

Your first kiss together is wildly heated. Tongues lashing over one anothers as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. You can taste your arousal on his tongue and you whimper against him as he flips you over easily. "You're so fucking pretty." He murmurs with wonder.

Your legs straddle over him and you barely notice his hand creeping down your stomach. He rears back before slapping your pussy hard. You writhe with overstimulation, gasping loudly as your thighs lock. "Had to." He jokes before hooking his hand around your neck and pulling you down for a kiss. 

The kiss is languid now, tongues exploring each other's mouths as you unbutton his jeans. The sound of the zipper sounds so loud in the silent room and it fills you with gusto for what's to come next. 

He doesn't break the kiss as he shoves his pants down roughly. He sighs loudly into your mouth as his cock springs free from the confines of his jeans and briefs. 

You've been dying to see his cock in person. And boy, does it not disappoint. You practically gape at the size and thickness. Rose colored veins meet your gaze on his length and you find yourself practically drooling at the sight. His bulbous head is a mean shade of red as it weeps precum begging to be touched. "All for you." He says as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Me and every other porn star." You joke and he clicks his teeth at your words.

"I don't want them like I want you. I've never wanted to feel a body like yours in years. You're special to me, don't you get that? You make me feel shit. You make me cum. Nobody does that anymore, baby." Your eyes greet his as he speaks. And, you watch him earnestly pour out his emotions. You give him a sweet smile before running your hands over his chest.

He sighs at the contact before combing his hands through your hair. "I'm serious. You want me to make love to you? You got it. You want me to fuck you so hard you'll beg me to stop? You got it. Anything. Anything you want, I'm here to please you." 

Your heart swells at his words and you smile wider before grasping his cock. He gasps at your touch, hips rutting into the air before gritting his teeth. "I want to please you." You tell him.

"By all means." He mumbles as his jaw muscles flex. 

Bending down, you pepper kisses over his long length. Earning gentle groans from him as his hands make a ponytail with your hair. Your tongue laps at a trail of precum as it lazily runs down his length and he shivers in response. "Fuck." He curse before gripping tighter at your hair.

Swirling your tongue around the tip, he lets out a hiss of pleasure. The sound makes your pussy clench around nothing. "Goddamn." 

Spreading your legs wider with his hands, he rubs gentle circles onto your clit and you moan loudly as you take his length into your mouth. "Agh, Christ. Your mouth is amazing." He hisses out as you assiduously work your mouth on his cock.

Hollowing your cheeks with every suck, you feel brazen as he moans your name. "Not even some porn stars can suck cock like this. Jesus Christ!" He yelps out as he shoves your head down on his cock. Gagging around his length, he moans louder at the sound. 

Tears spring forth from your eyes as you look up at him. His bottom lip is trembling between his teeth as you run your tongue flat over the base. "That's it, baby. Just like that. Your mouth is amazing, baby girl." He praises you and you keen as he pinches your nipple. 

You whimper against his large cock, your hands gripping at his terse thighs as he lifts his hips with every head bob. He makes it a point to praise you every time you gag. Show love to your body as you cry on his cock. 

Spittle and precum stream over your chin as he begins to lose himself in the pleasure. "God, I've wanted to fuck your mouth for so long. Since you put that selfie up for me. I knew you would feel so fucking good around my cock, baby. So fucking eager to please me." His cock begins to throb as you swallow around him. Trying to get him as deep in your throat as possible. 

"Fuck yeah. Let me use you like a fucking cocksleeve." He murmurs out as your nose nestles to his bare pubic bone. He rears back before spanking your cunt again. Your body undulating at his ministrations and he holds up his hand showing you your fresh wave of arousal on his fingers. 

"Look at how horny you are for me. Fuck you're incredible." He enters his fingers into his mouth, moaning both at your taste and as he fucks his cock deeper into your throat. 

This wasn't particularly love making in a normal sense, but who gives a fuck. Right now, as he fucks your throat you can only whimper and want more. Getting so caught up in being with him that there really wasn't anything but perfection in this very moment. "Y/N. You're going to make me cum, baby. You're- Fuck." He curses before pressing his lips into a straight line. 

He tugs on your hair roughly, his eyes still on you and surprisingly not on his cock as it disappears into your mouth. His heart swells with admiration, wiping your cheeks of your tears as his jaw tightens. Licking over his base you watch him gasp loudly and your thighs tighten around his.

"Oh baby. Fuck. I'm cumming! Shit!" He whines out and his cock gets thicker inside your throat before orgasming. His eyes roll back as ropes of cum slide down your throat. He whispers your name ardently as you swallow diligently.

"Show me." He gasps out and you pull off of his cock before opening your mouth. 

"Such a good girl." He praises.

He takes a second, blinking the lusty haze from his eyes before flipping you onto your back. You giggle at the sudden movement, a smile painted on his face as he leans down to kiss you. Discarding your bra to the floor, he pecks at your lips.

"First woman in my bedroom. First woman to get me to cum that hard in so long. I got a lot of firsts going on today." He whispers against your lips before nipping your bottom lip. 

"Really? I'm the first girl in your bed?" You ask, surprised.

"Oh yeah. No ones ever been this special for me to invite them over. Keep playing your cards right and I'll make you dinner." He jokes as he spreads your legs.

Your giggle is cut off as he enters two fingers inside of you before stretching. With a whimper, you whine his name. "Cum for me one more time. I gotta stretch you to fit my cock in." He expertly curls his fingers inside you and your chest heaves upwards at the feeling.

"You-You never stretch any of the other girls on camera." You say as he scissors you open.

"They don't need to be stretched, they're constantly loose or have already been prepped. Also, stop talking about them and my job. This is about us right now." He says before silencing you with a kiss. 

The pad of his thumb rubs over your bundle of nerves and you gasp into his mouth. His fingers begin to fuck you faster as his tongue glides over yours. His taste, the subtle hints of wine and your arousal have your mind becoming fuzzy for the second time. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, arms hooking over the back of his neck as he nips at your tongue.

"You're such a good girl cumming again for me." He whispers before curling his fingers so fast inside of you that you feel all the air in your lungs disappear. 

"Y-Yoongi! Fuck! I'm-"

"Go ahead, baby girl." With a loud moan you orgasm for the second time and he scissors your pliant channel open as he whispers words of praise in your ear. Your vision goes white behind your eyelids and you barely feel his fingers leave you. 

He waits for you to come down from your high. Caressing your cheek with loving strokes as he aligns himself to your entrance. You whimper as he prods at you before looking up for confirmation.

"Just say the word and we can stop. I don't want to push you too much on the first round." So he wants more with you? 

You pull him closer and he pushes his bulbous head past your entrance. Both of your mouths falling open in tandem as he slowly thrusts inside. He was stretching you so open, the feeling almost mind boggling. 

"Oh God." You whine as he buries his face into your neck. Kissing over your heated skin, he pushes himself to the hilt inside of you. He allows you to adjust around his considerable length as he plays with your nipples. Pinching and rolling them between his fingertips. 

"I'll make love to you for however long you let me." He announces into the crook of your neck. 

He suckles more vivid colors to the surface of your skin as your legs wrap around his waist. He pulls out slowly, letting the head of his cock drag against your soft walls before thrusting harshly back inside.

The both of you moan loudly, your hands scrambling to grab onto his arms as he begins a diligent pace. He pulls your face with his hand to look at him as he fucks you lovingly. "You drive me so crazy. So fucking nuts. I can't believe I get to do this with you. You're like a dream." He whispers before kissing you softly. 

The balls of your feet dig into his backside as he continues his pace. You can tell he's dying to go faster but he makes it a point to give you what you want. He was truly making love to you, every thrust having purpose and meaning as he sheathes himself inside of your heat. 

"So nice and wet for me. So fucking tight." He seethes out through clenched teeth and you rock your hips with every thrust to meet him. He grabs your hands before intertwining your fingers together. 

His lips suckle at your skin as he begins to fuck you faster. Sweat beginning to produce on his sideburns. Your hands tighten your grip on his as you lift your hips for more. "I really like you." He tells you as you moan.

"I like you, too. A lot." He smiles before thrusting harder inside of you. Your head lolls back as he begins to fuck you with everything he has. 

"Oh fuck! Y/N!" He cries out into the valley of your breasts. You're a blubbering mess beneath him now, the tightening in your stomach coming back in full force as each thrust meets your cervix folds. 

Lifting himself up, he watches how your breasts jiggle with every thrust. How gloriously in pleasure you are beneath him and he can't deny the feeling of ardent emotion as his heart strings tug at the sight. "Shit!" He curses loudly before letting go of your hands to grip your hips.

Pulling you down onto his cock with fluid motions, you feel his cock begin to throb within you and your pussy clenches around him.

His hand reaches for the apex of your thighs, pinching your clit skillfully. Your eyes roll back, mouth drooling for his cock as he splits you open.

"You're so fucking tight for me. So fucking made me for me. Who does this pussy belong to?" He asks before pinching your bundle of nerves again.

"You! Yoongi!" You gasp out as your veins pump with pleasure. 

"Cum for me again." He mumbles.

He hooks your ankle over his shoulder before drilling into you at a speed that shouldn't be humanly possible. Mumbling his name incessantly you cum for him a third time. Eyes screwing shut as your cunt milks his cock for his cum. "Fuck yeah. So fucking tight." He mutters out as he watches you bask in deep seeded pleasure.

Your cum squirts out of you, landing on his thighs and he growls animalistically before pulling out of you. Flipping you over, he lifts your hips in the air and you can barely understand what's happening as you moan loudly. He enters you in one fluid motion, simultaneously spanking your ass hard. 

Lurching forward you moan his name as you grip at his bedsheets. Fisting them until your knuckles become white. "Fuck. You're so amazing. So fucking willing to keep creaming on my cock." He growls out as his hand grabs at the back of your neck.

He pulls you back onto his cock with fervent need, his eyes on your smarting globes and the way your pussy sheathes him so tightly. "So beautiful." He says before smacking your ass again.

You appreciate the sting, letting it bring you back to reality. His hand finds the junction of your thighs once more and he rubs furious circles to your clit. You yelp out at the over stimulation, eyes watering with tears. 

"Yoongi! Can't!" You whimper. 

"Yes you can. My woman can do anything." He's claimed you right then and there. You allow yourself to be pushed through the over stimulation, crying and whimpering before your simpering turns to loud moans.

"That's it, baby. Good fucking girl." He seethes out before spanking you again. "Let's go for four." He pulls out of you almost fully before spitting on your battered cunt. Pulling you harshly back onto his cock, your cunt continues to convulse around him as he begins to throb harshly.

"Oh fuck. You're going to make me cum." He alerts you. Thighs shaking, you rock your hips back to him with every thrust. Your hands grip the sheets tighter as you cum for a fourth time without warning. 

You bury your face into the mattress crying out loudly as he groans. "Oh fuck! Baby!" He yells out before stilling inside of you.

Ropes of cum smatter the walls of your cunt and you whimper feebly as the warmth fills you. He lays his chest to your back before kissing your cheek. You can feel his chest heave for air behind you and he pulls out gently. Pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, he chuckles as you cream with his cum. 

You flip onto your back with a tired whine and he laughs quietly. Bending down, he kisses you gently before standing. "Let me clean you up, okay?" 

You hum as you close your eyes. God, hes fucking incredible. 

Cleaning you up, he watches as your head lazily tilts towards him. "You okay?" He asks with a laugh. 

Snorting gently you nod before looking over his naked body. "Did you mean what you said? Do you like me?" You ask him and he stops his ministrations.

Bending down he kisses you. The kiss filled with passion and reverence. "Yes. I like you. Very much." He replies.

"So...what are we?" You ask quietly as he lays down beside you.

His arms pull you into his chest as he rests against the headboard of his bed. Pushing some stray hairs behind your ear, his lips meet your hairline. Brushing against it gently, he closes his eyes. 

"I claimed you while we were having sex and that still stands. I'd like to see where this goes between us. Your soul is so pure, so honest and I'd like to know you on every level I possibly can." Your eyes flutter shut and you smile into his chest as he holds you tighter. 

"I'd really like that Yoongi."

"Me too, little one."

"Baby." His voice is loud as he steps over the threshold of your shared apartment. 

You jump at the noise, sending your fingers flying over the keyboard of your laptop before looking up. You smile at his figure, his bleach blonde hair falls into his eyes as he smiles back. You erase the keyboard smash before closing your laptop.

"Don't stop on my account." He tells you as he sets his keys down on the kitchen table.

"I'm almost done anyway, I was just editing the next chapter." He raises an eyebrow at you before padding over and kissing the top of your head. You purse your lips for a kiss but he hums awkwardly.

"Might not wanna kiss me. I gotta go take a shower too." He says before taking off his shirt and showing you the wax candle burn marks on his chest. You laugh, rolling your eyes as he winks at you.

He notices how your eyes shift to your laptop as he continues to stare. What are you hiding? "Wanna come take a shower with me?" He asks as he discards his pants.

"Sure." 

"Who'd you film with today?" You ask as Yoongi runs the bar of soap over your back, pressing sweet kisses over your bare shoulder.

"Candy. She says hi." He whispers as he pulls you closer to his naked body.

"While she was gagging on your cock?" He snorts into the nape of your neck before swatting at your backside. Whining at the sting, you turn your head and pout to him. He nips at your protruding bottom lip before nuzzling his nose into your wet hair.

"What were you writing before? Take One?" You hum in agreement as he runs the bar of soap over your breasts.

"What are we doing this time? Fucking in a car on our way to the Porn Awards? Or, maybe going on that vacation we won at the charity ball?" He quips and your body goes rigid as he questions you. Fuck, you're acting odd. 

"Just fucking." You say, your voice sounding small under the sounds of running water as it slaps the floor. 

He pulls away from you before rinsing his body off. "I'm done with the shower, are you?" He asks, finding himself sounding distant. 

You shut the water off and grab the towel from him watching him walk away and out of the bathroom.

Yoongi lays in bed, watching you comb through your hair with your fingers and he folds his arms. Your back muscles were terse and he raises an eyebrow as you throw your body down onto the bed as if you're frustrated. 

He can't seem to understand where this was coming from. You've been together for years now and every time you've shown this sort of tantrum or distance from him, he's always just fucked it right out of you till you couldn't remember why you were upset in the first place.

You were usually very vocal. He remembers the first fight you had gotten into, something that he still agrees is his fault. He was careless at first, when you began dating. Not really telling you the subject of the porns he was filming.

He would come home with hickies and scratch marks, without thinking of how you would take it. But, he hadn't had to explain himself to anyone ever. So he understood when you finally snapped and cursed him out. You put him on a sex ban for almost a month and he felt like a hollow shell, reverting back to not being able to cum inside of his co-stars for that little while. 

Just thinking about it gives him shivers and he pulls the covers over his chest higher. Getting comfortable in bed, your back is turned towards him. "Baby, come lay on me." He insists as he runs his hand over your bare thigh.

You stay silent before huffing out and flipping over. Wrapping his hand around your body, his thumb presses into the muscles around your spine. Kneading them gently as his lips drift over your temple. "What's wrong, baby girl?" He asks quietly.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You reply as you lay your cheek on his chest. He rolls his eyes at your hollow words before tipping your chin up with his index finger.

"I'm your fiance, you're supposed to talk to me. We're in this for life, remember?" His eyebrows raise with his words as your fingers run over the wax burns on his body.

"I'm fine. Seriously." You give him the fakest smile he's ever seen in his life before closing your eyes and he sighs a little too loudly.

What the fuck did you write that's got you so upset?

Yoongi picks at the skin on his lip as he watches you sleep. You've been distant for over a week now and he's starting to think he's done something frighteningly wrong. 

He made it a point to tell you that he didn't need to read Take One anymore. That you could pour your emotions and feelings into the story almost like a diary. He wanted you to have that creative outlet that brought you so much freedom.

He loves that about you. Anything and everything you write has meaning, you make it count. And, if you needed to write about how annoyed you were with him in your books then so be it. Vent to your heart's content as long as any real major problems were discussed with him first. 

But, God there was something wrong and he knows he would find the answer if he opens up Take One. Grabbing his phone off the bedside table, he lays you down gently before standing up. He stares at you for a second in your moonlit bedroom, watching you wriggle from the movement before becoming dead to the world once more. 

He sighs as he walks to the bathroom. His feet pad against the heated floor before locking himself in. Sitting down on the toilet, he unlocks his phone. Blinking rapidly at the bright light before scrolling through your blog. 

Chapter 99: To New Beginnings

"Oh Jesus." He mumbles nervously before putting his cheek on his hand as he begins to read.

It's early morning when your husband wakes you up. Breakfast in bed was never his thing, burning eggs so easily as if they were going out of style. 

But it was a welcome sight as your stomach grumbles with hunger. His smile stutters your heart as he sets the plate of food down before you. 

His touch is warm as he caresses your cheek. The feeling waking you up faster than the strongest coffee ever could. 

After last night's ball, how you danced among countless bodies with no faces, he seemed to become reinvigorated. Wholly invested in love for one another. 

He watched children in small dresses and suits play beneath glittering chandeliers. Watched their small bodies dance effortlessly to the cords of classical music and it struck something inside of him. 

"Little one." He whispers to you.

Looking up from your plate, your eyes greet his. His irises show you nothing but ardor as he grabs for your hand. 

Running his thumb over your wedding band, he swallows thickly. Nervousness sweeps through you as his eyes flutter closed. 

"What's wrong?" You whisper, setting down your plate.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just want to talk to you." You nod to him, sitting up straighter as you give him your undivided attention. 

His hand is atop yours, running smooth circles over your skin. In the morning sunlit room, you can see his forehead crease with tension. It seems like he has something to say and it just won't come out. Like he could shout underwater without any outcome. 

He takes a deep breath before looking up at you again. 

"I want to try for a baby." He tells you. 

Your heart lurches deep in the recesses of your chest. Eyes wideni-

"Oh, baby girl." Yoongi whispers before running his hand over his exhausted face. He has thought about it, surely. But, he never put much stake into it with the job he has. 

This is why you've been so distant? You want a baby? Why weren't you comfortable enough to tell him? You could talk to him about anything and everything.

It doesn't seem far fetched to think about having children with you. You were the greatest love of his life, the only love of his life. If it's what you want, then he wants that too. 

The thought sends his mind alive, waking from his exhaustion as he continues to read.

Sliding his hands over your bare body, his lips caress your breasts. Suckling at your nipples with the new intention of having them swell for his child. 

"God, how amazing you're going to look with my child inside you. So pretty and swollen for me." He whispers above your nipple, his breath hardening the bud to stiff peaks.

With a gentle mewl, he spreads your legs. Eyes on yours as his irises begin to swell with lust. 

"Wouldn't you love that, baby? Letting me cum deep inside your fertile womb and give you my son or daughter?" He asks as his fingers knead at the flesh of your thighs.

"Yes! Fuck! I want you to put a baby in me!" You cry out as he begins to smirk deviously.

Yoongi shifts in his seat, hand reaching down for his cock before stopping. God, this was fucking hot. 

Then he imagines you, swollen with his child as he lavishes upon your body. You walking down the street hand in hand as your rub circles onto your stomach. 

"Oh fuck." He mumbles before rubbing at his cock through his briefs. 

Reading through the sheer eroticism you have written, he finds the thought of you becoming pregnant weighing heavily on the front of his mind. Knowing him, he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it until he makes it a reality.

Standing up from the toilet, he opens up the medicine cabinet doors. Rifling through the small objects and toiletries he finds your birth control container. Without a second thought he clutches it tightly in his hand. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

Unlocking the bathroom door, he leans against the door jamb as you lay fast asleep. “Fuck, I love you.” He whispers, before walking back over to his side of the bed.

You can see him staring at you through the big mirror in your bedroom out of the corner of your eye. Shutting your laptop, you meet eyes with him and you both tilt your heads at the same time to each other.

You giggle gently before looking down at the comforter beneath you. You really shouldn’t have been so pissy with him over the last few days, especially when you haven’t even talked to him about why you were so short and rude. 

He knows you too well by now, he probably knows something must be going on with you. It’s just all been coming to a head lately, you could say. Seeing Viola and Taehyung’s baby, seeing pregnant women in the street glowing and looking happy. It makes you feel like something is missing in your life. 

And, you want these things with him. You love him with every ounce of your being. You should just talk to him, just tell him. It scares you, what if you tell him and he says that because of his career it’s not really too hopeful to have a child. It’s nerve wracking.

“What’s up, baby girl?” Your fiance asks as he sits up straighter. His onyx irises feel like daggers through the mirror and you stand up before giving him a sweet smile. 

“Nothing, going to get ready for bed.” He hums to you before throwing his phone on the bedside table. 

Rifling through the medicine cabinet, you raise an eyebrow at where your birth control should be. You move things around before furrowing your eyebrows. 

“Yoongs?” You call to him as you shove his razors and shaving creams out of the way.

“Yeees?” He asks before stepping into the bathroom behind you.

“Have you seen my birth control?” You ask quietly.

You feel his lips press against the back of your neck. Giving soft kisses to your skin, he ignores your question as his hand runs over the hem of your tank top.

“Babe?” You ask gently.

Shoving your tank top up, your breasts bounce freely before being shielded by his hands. He groans as he cups them, squeezing gently. Your body shudders at his touch, pressing back into him as you steady yourself on the granite countertop. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I love you so much.” He murmurs against your skin.

Tilting your head to give him more access, you raise your arm to rifle through more of the medicine cabinet. He’s quick to push your arm back down, grinding his hardening cock against the globes of your ass. 

“You aren’t going to find them, they’re gone.” He tells you as he rolls your stiff peaked nipples with his fingers.

With a whimper, your eyes flutter shut adoring the attention. Especially, when you think you don’t deserve it with how nasty you’ve been with him lately. 

Kissing over the shell of your ear, he holds you closer before thrusting his hand down the front of your sleep shorts. Gasping gently, your hand hooks around the back of his neck. 

“Wh-Why won’t I find them?” You lick your lips as his fingers part the folds of your pussy. 

Suckling small marks of reds and pinks, you can hear his hum. Feel it vibrating through his chest as he holds you so close. 

“Because I have them." He whispers before spreading your feet wider apart with his own. Running his fingers over your cunt, he moans as your slick begins to coat his fingers. Digging into his sweatpants pocket he produces the aluminum packet, holding it between his two fingers.

“Why?” You question him, before biting your lip as he rubs circles onto your clit with his middle and index fingers. 

“Because I’m going to stuff you full of my cum and make you carry my child.” He says nonchalantly.

You gasp loudly as he slaps your pussy gently. How could he know what you wanted? Was he that in tune with you? 

"Can I throw them away baby?" He asks, his breath fans over your ear before nibbling your earlobe.

"Yes." Your voice is breathless. 

Groaning at your response he chucks the packet into the garbage before picking you up with his strong arms. Taking off to the bedroom, he kisses over your neck.

“I’ve been thinking about getting you knocked up for the past few days. It makes my cock so hard to think of you swollen with my child, baby girl.” He says as he throws you unceremoniously down onto the mattress. 

Rubbing your thighs together, you watch him crawl up the bed. His tongue laps slowly over his lower lip as his eyes devour you. 

It sends your heart racing. Knowing that he’s going to fuck you with such intent. Knowing that he’s fucking you with purpose and not just for both of your pleasure. 

“Why do you think I haven’t been shooting all week? I want my cum to be potent for your fertile cunt.” He announces as he climbs over you. 

His hands grip at the sides of your shorts before tugging down roughly. Leaving you bare and open to him as he spreads your legs wide. He eyes your soaked cunt before giving you a lazy smirk. Running his fingers through his blonde hair, you can feel your gut explode with wanting. 

“You’re going to let me fill your sweet pussy up, aren’t you baby? Let me fill you to the brim till your tight little cunt is dripping with it.” You let out a sob of pleasure as he plucks at your nipple with his lips. 

“Yes! I want you to give me a baby so badly!” You whine out as he nestles between your legs.

He lavishes on your breasts, groaning gently as your hips thrust upward. Your pussy clenches around nothing, your clit starting to swell with need. His hands press your hips down firmly to the bed as you writhe beneath his ministrations. He looks up at you, his eyes give a stern warning and you know not to move again without being told. You whimper his name gently as he kisses down your stomach, mouth leaving hot, wet kisses before hovering over your womb.

“Look at you. You beautiful minx, I can’t wait to see you swell with what’s mine.” He whispers before licking from your lower stomach to your sex. His tongue is achingly slow, sending your toes curling as you do your best to keep your ass planted on the bed. 

Kissing and suckling at your slick folds, he moans at the taste of you. Lapping up your arousal on his tongue like it’s his favorite meal. Frankly, it fucking is.

"Oh Yoongs! Fuck!" You whine as his arms hook around your thighs. 

Prodding at your entrance, the amount of arousal that leaks from you has his lower half already rutting into the mattress. When it comes to his job he can stave off any sort of pleasure but with you, he just can't help losing himself. 

He enters his finger into you slowly, enjoying how your thighs twitch and lock as he suckles on your swollen nub. 

"Fuck. You're soaked." He groans loudly against you. 

Adding a second finger, he could already feel you beginning to pulsate around him. Trying your hardest to not move at his request. "Grind on my tongue baby, you deserve it." He murmurs before letting his tongue hang out.

With a mewl, your hands fist at his blonde hair before gyrating your hips. Your eyes meet and the whimper you give has his cock twitching into the mattress. 

"I want it so badly. Want you to get me pregnant with your baby. Fuck me so full of cock and cum." You whine loudly.

His eyes roll back at your words as your breath quickens. His fingers curling so fast inside of you, it must be the work of the devil. 

"I'm gonna cum! Fuck!" White hot pleasure courses through you, cutting your nerves to the quick. 

Your fiance grips hard at your thigh, his fingers pumping into so fast you might have just seen Jesus as you rush towards your precipice of pleasure. 

His tongue flicks your clit at a dangerous speed sending you over the edge moaning his name loudly. Back bowing off of the bed, you cover your mouth with a shaking hand as you let out a sob of pleasure.

He kisses over the inner skin of your thighs waiting patiently for you to come down from your high. Running your fingers through his hair, you wince as he scissors you open.

"I know baby, but I gotta prep you. Your pretty pussy is too tight for my cock." He tells you as his lips drift over your skin. 

Stretching you open, he tugs down his sweatpants before sighing at the freeing feeling. Watching his cock spring out, you let out an involuntary moan at the sight. Precum weeps mercilessly from the head as his tip turns an angry shade of red. 

Spreading your legs wider with his own, he pulls his fingers from you gently. The loss of being full makes you focus more on his cock. As his eyes run over your figure, you can see it pulse and twitch with need. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, hips lifting off the bed at the sheer excitement of being filled with him. 

“I know baby. I’m coming.” Yoongi whispers before running his cock through your slick folds. The stimulation to your clit has your jaw tightening as your teeth grit together. It’s a sexy concoction of overstimulation and need as your body jolts with each rut against you. 

Pressing his lips needily to yours, your tongues collide in heated passion. Gripping the base of his cock, he enters you slowly. Moaning in tandem into each other's mouths. 

“Christ, your cunt is so tight.” He groans out against your lips as he thrusts himself to the hilt. 

Letting you adjust around him, his lips pluck at the column of your neck. “Gonna look so pretty for me, little one. So beautiful with my child inside of you. I can’t wait to eat your needy cunt while rubbing your big belly.” He whispers against your neck, groaning loudly as your pussy clenches around him at his words. 

“Oh, you like that so much don’t you? Picturing my baby inside you as I fuck you every way I can.” He jeers as his fingers roll your nipples almost painfully slow. 

“Yes! I can’t wait to be big for you. Sucking your cock as you play with my milky tits.” You whisper as you card your fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He curses.

Pulling out of you, he steadies himself on his elbows above you before thrusting hard into you. Your hands grip at the sheets beside you, knuckles going white as your head lolls back.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. Soaking my cock so nicely. Shit.” He whispers in your ear. 

The feeling of his breath producing goosebumps on your skin as he begins to bulldoze himself inside of you. Hooking your legs around his waist, you begin to meet each thrust with your hips. 

“Your cock feels so good inside me! I love when you fuck me!” You moan for him as he sits up on his knees.

Shifting your leg over his body, he presses your legs flat against one another. Your pussy becomes tighter around him at the new angle as he practically turns you on your side. Spanking the globe of your ass, you moan as your skin smarts with the sting of his slap. 

“Gonna take my cum deep in your aching little cunt, aren’t you little one? Let everyone in the street know how well I fuck you to get you so nice and big for me.” His head lolls back, licking at his lips as he grips at your hip. 

Plowing into you, your mind becomes muddled. Babbling and whining as he fucks you with every ounce of passion he has. “Rub your clit for me baby, I’m so close to blowing a load in your sweet pussy.” 

Lifting your leg, he grips your knee as you press it against his stomach. Your fingers rub your clit with furious circles, aided by how much of your slick weeps out of you. "Oh fuck, you feel so good, baby. I'm so close." He whispers as his eyes flutter shut.

His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he holds your leg tighter to his body. Snapping his hips faster your stomach churns with delight. Your eyes flutter shut as you lift your hips higher, letting the head of his cock brush against the soft patch of nerves inside you.

He could feel your cunt beginning to twitch and clench around his cock and he curses loudly before bending down and kissing you deeply. Swallowing your moans, he groans against you as the head of his cock brushes against your cervix folds. Losing your mind once more, you grip onto his shoulder.

"I'm cumming!" You sob out as your eyes fill with tears.

"Good girl, baby. Cum on my cock. You look so gorgeous when you cum for me." His thumb trails over your bottom lip as you lose yourself in the pleasure.

Your body locks before going boneless as you orgasm. Sobbing loudly, your back bows off the bed. Ears ringing with white noise, you whimper gently. 

"Oh shit! That's it, little one. Your pussy got so tight!" He cries out as he snaps his hips harder. 

His hands grab at your breasts, squeezing and rolling them roughly as his thrusts become erratic and out of rhythm. 

"Oh God, please give me a baby. Take my cum deep in your pretty pussy. Please baby." He begs as he stills inside of you.

"Fuck, take it deep baby girl. Shit!" He cries out as ropes of warm cum paint the walls of your cunt. 

He lets out a shaky breath before burying his face into your neck. "I love you baby so much." 

He pulls out gently before lifting your hips. "Keep 'em up for a bit." He instructs before kissing you sweetly.

"You read Take One, didn't you?" You ask, voice riddled with exhaustion. 

When he doesn't respond you smirk tiredly. His lips drift over your cheek before nodding.

"Forgive me." He whispers to you.

He sits up on his knees before stuffing his cum back into your pussy as it begins to slowly weep from you.

"I'm sorry I wrote it and didn't explain why I was being so coarse with you." He runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

"I love you, little one. We're perfection together and children will only add to our amazing life. I want them with you, too. I want everything with you." He tells you, onyx irises staring earnestly.

You giggle before opening your arms. Laying beside you, he clicks his teeth before pulling you into his side. 

"I love you, too. Always." You say as you hook your chin to his pectoral muscle. He wrinkles his nose to you before kissing your forehead.

Sitting down on the couch, you close your laptop before side eyeing your fiance. 

There he sits, beautiful and poised as ever. Sipping his beer, his hand lands on your thigh. He leaves gentle strokes as he notices the attention you're giving him. 

Turning his head away from the movie, he tilts his head to you before leaning in and kissing your forehead. You smile at the warmth of his lips before coddling into his side. 

"Finished this weeks chapter?" He asks gently as his thumb caresses your skin.

"The last chapter actually." You reply as he offers you a sip of his beer. You shake your head with a smile as you extend your feet to the coffee table. 

"Last chapter? But we have so much more to do together. Like getting married and having kiddies. Buying a house and things of that nature." He whispers as he kisses your cheek.

"The ending is perfect for right now. I would really like you to read it." 

Muting the television, he turns his body towards you fully before furrowing his eyebrows. "I don't read it anymore, you know that. It's a trust thing for us." 

You giggle before putting the laptop on his lap. "Just read it. Okay? It's the last chapter… You might find it...uplifting." You tell him.

Placing the beer on the table, he sucks air in through his teeth before opening up your laptop. "Alright." He mumbles

Your feet find their place tucked underneath you as he begins to read.

There are certain ways that one can feel pure bliss. Whether it be seeing a lost loved one after a long while or hearing a song that strikes all of the right cords inside of you. Pure bliss can come in many forms. 

Today was your form of pure bliss. The sex god, your sex god had finally arrived back home from work. Sweaty, with a tired smile gracing his face as he throws his leather jacket onto the coat rack.

Your insides jump with joy, nervously excited giggles raring to pass your lips as he turns to you.

"Hi beautiful." He murmurs with a wide smile before pecking your lips gently.

"Hi." You whisper again his lips before copying the expression on his face.

His head turns to the dinner table, fully set with hot food waiting in the middle. Two candles on either side, picturesque like it was taken straight out of Good Housekeeping. 

"Wow. This looks amazing. Thank you baby!" Yoongi claps his hands happily as you both walk over to the table. Usually you both sit at the ends of the table but today you've taken the seat beside him.

Grabbing your hand, he gives the back of it a gentle kiss before leaning back in his chair. 

"Why such a lush dinner? Did you see my newest movie?" He asks with a laugh.

Butterflies roam free within you at his question. You giggle with him before holding your breath as he picks up the linen napkin from his dish. He gives a quick glance to the plate before almost giving himself whiplash to look back down at it. Sitting in the middle of the plate is a monochrome picture. 

Just a little hint of something white inside grey matter. Taking a sharp breath, he lets out a strangled noise before shaking hands approach the picture. "Oh my God." He whispers before clutching at the paper.

Your hands press together like a prayer as you bring them to your lips. He lets out a loud sob, eyes screwing shut as his hands continue to shake.

"You're pregnant?!" He cries out loudly.

"Yes. I'm pregnant." You say with a giggle as he kicks his chair away. Grabbing your wrist tighter he hauls you up before burying your face into his chest. 

"Oh, little one. Thank you." He cries as he holds you tightly to his body.

Yoongi wipes at his eyes before turning his head to you and sniffing quietly.

"It's beautiful, baby. Seriously. You need to be published. Get your own movie or something." Your fiance says as he closes his laptop.

With a smile, you lean your head against the top of the couch. "So what do you think about me being pregnant?" You ask gently.

He smirks before placing the hardware down on the table and grabbing you. He holds you close to his chest and you can feel his steady heartbeat which has become your life song. 

"We're trying, it'll come babe." He whispers as he runs his hand over your head in a calming manner.

"I use Take One as a diary. It's there to help me keep track of real life events too." He hums in reply before swaying your bodies in tandem.

He smiles unknowingly as his eyes shut. Real life events? Real life?

You wait patiently for it to set it, staring at the television as it lights up with different scenes of the movie he was watching. 

Then all at once, he goes rigid and you give a relieved laugh.

"Didn't take too long now did it?" You tease him as he pulls away from you.

Looking back up at him, his eyes are wide. Pressing both hands to either side of your face, you can see his eyes beginning to water with emotional tears.

"You're pregnant? With my baby? My perfect, precious baby?" He asks and he takes in a deep breath as you nod.

He scoffs loudly before sobbing. He caresses your cheeks with his thumbs as his eyes screw shut. His chest racks with emotion as he bites his bottom lip. 

"Fuck I love you." He cries.

His lips press to yours and you close your eyes to take in the passionate kiss.

"I love you too." You whisper against him.

Yoongi groans as he sits down in the director chair. He sips his coffee before looking over the set for the day. He chuckles to himself before folding his arms.

It's your voice that has his head cocking to the side as you step on the set. Stomach so large he's certain you can't even see your feet today. 

"Hi my loves." He says as he holds his hand out to you.

You wrinkle your nose, grabbing his hand as you place a kiss to his temple. 

"Hey boss man! I'm ready to go." He hears from the side of the set and his attention turns to the owner of the voice as he rubs at your belly.

"Y/N, this is Park Jimin. He'll be playing Yoongi in Take One." He introduces the younger man.

You bow your head to him as you take a seat besides your husband. Lazily he rubs at your stomach before calling everyone to their places. 

"Look at us, huh? A director and a screenplay writer for the biggest porn films in the industry. Who would have thought?" He whispers in your ear as the lights begin to dim.

With a laugh you nudge his shoulder as Jimin props himself up against the hotel door just like the first chapter of Take One.

As the scene begins, you find your attention wavering to your newly married husband. Tilting your head, you take in his handsome features. A god among men.

The giddiness explodes inside of you as normal and you feel his son kick inside of you. With a snort, your thumb runs over his wedding band as he holds his hand.

Who knew writing a simple story would get you here? In the greatest place you could ever dream of?

There’s something magical about meeting the right someone. Captivating, even. The way irises flit between one another in a moment of glorious silence. The breath that is held within one’s chest as you stare longingly at the other person before you. Hands could shake from nerves, excitement- both, even. It had never happened for Min Yoongi. Until you. 

[deluxewhump]

The Warrior cut surely across a field, buzzing with insects and dotted with tiny red wildflowers. Whumpee did their best to keep up, bound tightly by the wrists with the Warrior holding loosely onto the length of rope like a leash. He tugged a few times to hurry them along, but never hard enough to cause Whumpee to lose their footing and stumble.

They were brought inside a thatched roof dwelling at the far edge of the field. The dirt floor was cool on their cut-up feet. They were blind in the earth-scented darkness at first, and the Warrior guided them with tugs of the rope to a soft place made of furs and straw. Whumpee sneezed as delicately as they could into their elbow, half expecting to be cuffed on the head for it.

Instead, the Warrior untied Whumpee’s wrists with surprisingly nimble fingers. "If you run," he warned in a low voice, "We will certainly catch you. If you're lucky, it'll be me who does. But it might not be."

Whumpee nodded. The Warrior looked even larger, somehow, in this low slung house. In addition to his sheer size, his eyes were bright and intelligent. Whumpee was sure he was gleaning things about them just by looking at them.

"Do you read?"

Whumpee had to swallow to find their voice. "Read?" They parroted stupidly. 

The Warrior turned quickly and Whumpee recoiled in fear. He only leaned a shield away from the wall and fetched a slim leather-bound book from its hiding place behind it. Whumpee's heart skittered like a rabbit's as the Warrior knelt in front of them, holding the volume in his hands as if it were a wounded sparrow. He tapped the center with a dirty fingernail. 

"Can you read these words?"

Whumpee's hands shook as they opened the stiff cover. Yellowed pages fell apart like dried leaves. They struggled to make out the text in the low light. 

It was Latin. 

They knew their Latin, once. But perhaps not enough to translate reliably, not for a long time. Some of the pages had sustained water damage and the ink had bled.

"I—" Whumpee looked up to see the Warrior earnestly awaiting an answer. "I can read some of it." They dropped to a whisper. "I think."

The Warrior broke into a wide grin that narrowed his eyes and crinkled the wind-weathered skin at the corners. He clapped his palm against Whumpee's knee. It was nothing more than an expression of excitement, but Whumpee flinched and choked back a whimper. 

"You can tell me what it says? You can read it to me?"

"Uhm. S-sort of, I—"

"You do this for me,” the Warrior nodded seriously. “And I keep you safe." He had the tone of a man accustomed to his word being his bond— unquestioned. "You'll stay here. No one will harm you."

No one would harm them… did that mean the Warrior himself intended them no harm? 

The Warrior tilted his half-shaved head, giving him a boyish quality despite his formidable size and blue-green tattoos. Was he waiting for Whumpee to agree? They didn't have much of a choice in the matter. He'd already warned what fate would befall them if they tried to run.

"Yes,” they breathed, unable to even worry about their shoddy Latin at this very moment, not with those glacial eyes watching them. "I'll stay.” 

That smile again. “Good. Good.” 

He took the book back and brought out a salve that smelled of pitch. Whumpee held their breath as the he applied it over the angry red rope marks on their wrists, those fingers astonishingly nimble and gentle once again.

[falling-pages]

Far away from you: Tamaki x Reader

Ok ok ok, taking a break from the aesthetic board requests to drop a lil something for y'all (aka, me, because this is 100 percent self indulgent). Been thinking a lot about long-distance Tamaki lately. He's such a sweet boy 🥺

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Synopsis: Tamaki has to return to Japan for the summer, leaving his SO behind in America.

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Tamaki Suoh x gn!Reader (heavily implied female)

Genre: Fluff, a little bit of sad

Warnings: None

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As extroverted and excitable as Tamaki was, there truly was nothing he loved more than cuddling with you in bed on a sleepy Sunday morning.

Your bed was warm, the sheets soft and clean, and they smelled like you. Well, everything smelled like you, when your face was buried in his neck and his face pressed into your hair. That was soft, too, and it smelled so sweet. Like fresh fruit and honey. A little tangled, slightly damp from last night’s shower.

He turned to look down at you resting peacefully. Still unaware of the world, the chirping birds having not disturbed your slumber. Those lips he adored were slightly open, a gentle breath sighing in and out, cool against the skin of his neck. Your eyes moved beneath their lids; you were dreaming, experiencing a life within a life.

He hoped you were dreaming of him.

Some trashy reality show played in the background, the evidence of your trying to get up, but you found his chest too inviting and his arms too safe to leave. So you fell back asleep with him, enjoying the sweet uninterrupted time. Heaven knows the next time you’d be able to cuddle like this.

The clock was ticking, and soon he had to be far, far away from you.

As much as Tamaki wanted to fall back asleep with you, he knew his time was limited. The clock on your nightstand flashed angry red numbers, the only thing of heat in your pristine pastel room. The digital face clicked on and on, mercilessly reminding him of your impending separation, counting down the seconds until he would have to get up and leave you in your bed. Sure, he could miss his flight, but it was inevitable; he was a Suoh, and he had duties--most of them back in Japan.

Going to school in America had been the best decision of his life--he met you--but it made going back home each summer that much harder.

He allowed his thoughts to turn to next year, when you both graduated. You could go to Japan with him then, and you'd never have to say goodbye again.

You had discussed going to Japan with him for every break, but you desperately missed your family, and he would never stand to see you homesick. So the two of you cried, talked, and cried some more as your love booked his single ticket online. You had cried such pretty tears for him the night before, as you spent one last night together cooking a meal, washing dishes, and getting ready for bed. He didn’t think he could stand it, but having you there in his arms for just the time being was worth every clench in his aching heart.

Half-hour. That was all that's left until he had to get up. Thirty minutes until he left you and the continent behind.

Of course you would video chat, though the time difference would be hard. And he requested that you write letters too, so he could have a physical piece of you other than a scrunchie and keychain. To have your handwriting, to smother himself in the paper doused in your perfume, to see the care you took into writing each careful word. To kiss the blurry ink stains and watermarks, evidence of your tears. Evidence of how much you cared for him. He was a romantic, like that.

You suddenly shifted, moaning lowly. Your fists curled tightly into his chest, holding him fast by the shirt. He chuckled as he kissed your head, then your scrunched-up nose. Even in your sleep trying to convince him to stay.

As the soft light streamed through your curtain, it crossed over your head to make a halo. He couldn’t look at you hard enough, although he had already memorized every detail, he wished he could wash his eyes and look at you anew. You were beautiful, so sweet, and his, his little angel. Did you have wings buried beneath his shirt you wore?

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, lighting up the picture of you with the alarm. He sighed as the clock ticked into place, reluctant to let go of you to shut it off. But with you laying on top of him, he could reach it, grabbing the phone and turning the alarm off. He didn’t want you to wake while he was still there. You two had cried enough the night before, and he knew for a fact that if you accompanied him to the airport and looked at him like that, he would not get on the plane. It was better for you both if you stayed asleep, so he could grieve and you could keep dreaming of him.

That way, you wouldn’t actually have to say goodbye.

He slowly eased you off him, wincing at the whine that left your lips at the lack of warmth. He tugged off the shirt you so desperately clung to and left it in your arms, smiling when you immediately cuddled it. You were such a cute thing, laying against the mattress and sleeping softly. His own special fleur, pressed into the pages of the most beautiful book, preserved for him to keep and read for the rest of time.

As he slowly gathered his things, treading lightly lest you wake. His hands shook with dread as he packed up his final things, stowing away a few of your trinkets--a hair tie, clips, a plushie--in his bag. He found your pink pastel sweatshirt, the one you wore when you first met. Tears bubbled at his lashline, and, in an honest trade for his two shirts, added it to the collection.

Finally, it was time. His legs felt like jelly as they carried him towards you, a hammer pummeling his aching heart. Mon Dieu, how he didn’t want to leave you. He would have given up his whole family fortune to never say goodbye to you again. But there was a world outside the two of you, even though you were the sun of which he revolved around.

He bent to place a chaste kiss on your lips. Even as his body longed for more, he restrained himself, focusing on the way your breath melted against his, how your body responded so sweetly with the whimper. Remembering the imprint of yours against his, how you tasted, how you felt. He rested his palm against the pink flush of your cheek. Then he kissed your forehead, bade you a wonderful summer, and walked out the door.

One last kiss for his little fleur.

He whispered a prayer as he descended the stairs: May you not be so heartbroken when you wake.

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