#the LIP PIERCING 😩

[lemonxbeat]

I wanna kiss this piercing so bad

[sunmisbf]

i’ve watched this ride for me by devita ft. dawn video atleast 12 times in a row

[starkeyisthelastname]

smut with dealer rafe 😩😩😩

“Can I help you princess?” He asked nonchalantly as you slowly walked up to the couch, hands resting behind your back as he glanced up from counting the stack of cash in his hand. His blue eyes pierced into you, glancing over the small dress you wore before letting out a soft laugh. “I know you don’t do coke.” His tone amused. Rafe Cameron was his name or so that is what your friend had told you. She had warned you that he was an asshole, but gave the best deal on weed if you wanted some that bad.

“No- I don’t.” You told him quietly. “I need weed and I heard that you have some.” You watched as he stopped counting the money, wrapping a rubber band around it before leaning back against the couch on the upper balcony of the mansion.

“I do.” He said his voice in a low rasp.

You swallowed hard, watching his muscles flex as he stretched his arms against the back of his head. You bounced on your little heels, biting your lower lip as you waited for him to tell you how much it was. He was rather intimidating but gorgeous to look at. Buzzed hair, a strong jawline and stunning blue eyes that were staring into you.

“How much?” You finally asked him, opening your little Gucci purse. The money was between your fingers, when you felt a ringed hand pull you closer.

“I don’t want that shit. I want something else.” He told you, his other hand coming out from behind his head to rest on your hip. You felt the goosebumps rise on your smooth skin making you shiver as his fingertips traced over your flesh. “I wanna put my dick inside you. You are fucking the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You really didn’t know how to react, no man ever have telling you this before. The embarrassing thing was is that you felt your cunt pulse with want. This man quietly possibly having the sexiest voice you’ve ever heard. “I- I don’t know.” You whispered, the party below still going on. While it was dark up here, you didn’t know if anyone else wanting drugs would come up here.

Rafe removed his hand, grabbing his phone off the table. His thumb moved quickly, before setting the device back down. “Don’t worry about anyone. This is my fucking place.” He reassured you, his hand reaching for you again. “I got something that might change your mind.”

He pulled out a blunt, lighting it and taking a long hit as he pulled you down to sit next to him. Your eyes watched as he held it in his mouth, his hand working down towards button of his pants where he reached into his boxers. Your eyes widened as you saw his cock and just how big it was.

“Come here.” He rasped out.

Dress lifted up and lace panties to the side, you sunk down onto him. The way you were immediately filled up made you let out a moan, gripping his strong shoulders for support. “Oh fuck-you are big.” You said, throat tight as you didn’t even have words for how good it felt.

“Shit..” His voice hoarse as your pussy wrapped around him. “You can fucking take it.”

He placed the blunt up to your lips which you inhaled the best you could while gently rocking back and forth on his cock. The man was huge and impatient apparently as he gripped your ass roughly. You squeaked out a moan when his cock jackhammered into you, piercing your cervix with each thrust. “Fuck- fuck.” You whimpered, becoming limp against his strong frame as he made you take it.

“Shit- princess.” Rafe grits out, your cunt squeezing the fuck out of him. “This slutty pussy taking my big dick like a good girl. All because you are feenin for some weed. Fucking pathetic.” He spat at you while one hand came to your throat.

[kithtaehyung]

broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg

title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️

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Words abandon you.

They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips. 

All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels. 

Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?” 

Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.” 

“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?” 

“Course I do.”

Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—

“I was there.”

Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…

No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted. 

With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?” 

“I was.” 

The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?” 

You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside. 

Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi. 

It’s just not the right time. 

“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.” 

Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists. 

Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—

“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.” 

And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence. 

All the words around you just as speechless. 

Just like that, you’re gone again.

After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.

Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else. 

Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before. 

At least something in his apartment has changed for the better. 

Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried. 

As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face. 

And a little bit of summer rain. 

It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip. 

What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight. 

How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.

But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep. 

Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next. 

There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.

But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.

After three months of questioning his existence. 

All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason. 

And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.

Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs. 

Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.

The fuck.

Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.

Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.

And he doesn’t see your name.

Dumbass: 1 New Message

But your brother’s.

What the hell does he—

Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.

…Shit.

Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.

He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out? 

Shit. 

Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different. 

Why can’t he fucking move? 

Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook? 

Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue. 

Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.

“Hey, you coming?”

“Huh?”

“We have that session in thirty.”

The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.” 

“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.” 

Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast. 

But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.

“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch. 

Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over

Fuck!

“You okay?” 

“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.” 

“Nah, come now.” 

He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know. 

Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out. 

But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.” 

Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio

“On time? You better!”

Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now. 

As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak, 

“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.” 

Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.” 

“Shit, I know.” 

“We can’t keep doing this.” 

“Dude, relax, I get it.” 

“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”

Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.” 

“The… The overhead mic for the drums.” 

Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous. 

And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend. 

“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz. 

Dumbass: Incoming Call 

Of fucking course. 

Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.” 

“Wait, where are the—”

Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen. 

“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.” 

“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.” 

“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.” 

“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?” 

Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling. 

“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”

“Shit.”

There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.

“Okay, fine.” 

Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you. 

Delusion is a great place to stay.

In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”

“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”

He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home. 

There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.    

Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side. 

“Everything, Yoong.” 

But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach. 

So, so far away. 

“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”

Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”

“Just lemme know when you get back.”

Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.” 

“No running.”

“K.”

When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that. 

“How did that sound?” 

Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?” 

“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.” 

Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—

“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.” 

“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?” 

Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned. 

Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.

Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep. 

Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—

“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.” 

What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes. 

Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.” 

Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in. 

Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.” 

“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.” 

“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.” 

Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh. 

“Kidding. Only a little.”

Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.

Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.

Choosing not to say what he wants to. 

Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it. 

…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?

Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought, 

“Do the chorus again.” 

The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?” 

“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note, 

“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.” 

Done. He said it. 

And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame. 

Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—

“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.” 

Huh. They’re gonna take that? 

As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite. 

The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, we can try that.”

“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”

Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”

“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”

Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod. 

“Let’s see how it sounds.” 

“K.”

Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.

A stare that lingers on him just a little too long. 

The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else. 

After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.

It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment. 

Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it. 

“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”

Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!” 

Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure.”

At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies. 

But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation. 

Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking. 

Hustler: Incoming C—

Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window. 

But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start. 

Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen. 

As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some. 

It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain. 

Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier. 

Hustler: Outgoing Call 

Straight to voicemail? Shit.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now. 

Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying. 

Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll. 

That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up. 

Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?

Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later. 

It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know. 

Hustler: Outgoing Call 

When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.

Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag. 

Shit. How much of that did he witness?

“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”

Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.” 

“Don’t wanna commit anymore?” 

“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has. 

And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.” 

Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him. 

To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”

Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.” 

An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.” 

Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.

What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation? 

No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has. 

“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.” 

Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”

“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”

What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,

“It’s the food next door, huh.”

That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.

Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.

Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel. 

And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else. 

“If there’s something you need to get through...” 

Stare, and stare, and stare some more.

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.

As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.

And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.

Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot. 

And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard. 

Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine. 

Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing. 

But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others. 

And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.

Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.

And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom. 

Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister. 

And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country. 

At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus. 

What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all. 

But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years. 

Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together. 

Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.

But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa. 

Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—

“I went to Jimin’s last night.”

…What. 

Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”

His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,

“Care to share what’s been going on?”

He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—

“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”

Fuck! 

Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—

Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.

“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”

All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—

Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.

And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down. 

“Can’t fucking believe you.”

When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”

“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”

Oh, fuck that. 

Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”

“Say it—”

“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”

Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.

…Motherfucker, what?

Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too. 

“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”

Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.

His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?

“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.” 

No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”

“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”

“So everything I heard was a lie?”

“Huh?”

“He told me!”

He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.

What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true. 

The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.

“You gonna say anything or what?” 

Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything. 

Even if it kills him.

“No, I, umm…” 

“No?” 

Just hurry up and fucking do it. 

Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...” 

His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”

What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.

In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” 

“You sure?”

It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.” 

A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears. 

Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed. 

Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink. 

His ex? 

As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—

“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”

“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”

It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,

“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.” 

“Domestic?”

“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem. 

When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”

Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”

“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.” 

A sudden crack splits him through.

“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.” 

The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard. 

No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly. 

Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.

And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.

“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.” 

And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”

“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue. 

Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.

Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want. 

But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions. 

“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..” 

Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”

At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once, 

“I think she feels all alone.” 

This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes. 

“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”

Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.  

You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—

“I’m heading out again.”

Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”

Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.” 

“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”

How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face. 

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”

Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly. 

On the run.

“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.” 

“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”

Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”

At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”

And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…

Yoongi almost fucking confesses.

“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”

“You think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal… 

Unprecedented.  

“You’re the best out of all of us.” 

Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.

And they both share a drink in respectful silence. 

After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”

Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”

“You still are.”

“Says you!”

“I still am, too!”

Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck. 

After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,

“Break up with her, Yoong.” 

Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s over now.” 

“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”

Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills. 

“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.” 

Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.” 

“You sure it’s over?”

“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.” 

“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice, 

“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.” 

Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success. 

Get rid of it? He’s been trying. 

For three. Fucking. Months. 

“I might.” 

“…K.” 

And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.

Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.

Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands. 

Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.

But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.

And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it. 

What time is it? 

All that greets him is darkness. 

Nothing new, but darkness all the same. 

Why was she mentioned? What does that mean? 

He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend. 

Her? You. His sheets still smell like you. 

Inhale. Breathe. Inhale. 

He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired. 

And the darkness pulls him back under. 

Without even telling him the time. 

Buzzing. 

Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck? 

Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened. 

Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone. 

Hustler: Missed Calls (6)

Dumbass: 1 Message

Hustler: 3 Messages 

Chim: 7 Messages   

Chim: Missed Calls (3) 

Holy fuck. 

With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn. 

“Oh, fuck. There you are.” 

“Mm.” 

“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—” 

“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.” 

Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake. 

“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” 

Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?” 

There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears. 

“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”

Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about. 

“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”

Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut. 

Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.

But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.

So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm. 

“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” 

Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest. 

Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.

But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.” 

Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.

“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.” 

“He told you?” 

“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.” 

“Ah.” 

Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking. 

“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?” 

“That it’s done.” 

A hum. 

“That’s very true.” 

There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?” 

When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.

“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?” 

“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.” 

A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows, 

“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.” 

What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?” 

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”

Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

“Knowing the answer.” 

At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake. 

“You’ll know it when you see it.” 

“Annoying.”

“Love you, too!” 

Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table. 

Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?” 

“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.” 

He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.” 

“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.” 

“K. Same time tomorrow?” 

“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.” 

That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?” 

“Relax! You will like it.” 

“Chim, I swear—”

“You’ll thank me later bye!”

As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.

Exactly where he always ends up. 

Exactly where he doesn’t want to be. 

But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again. 

Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too? 

Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever  

Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter. 

He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day. 

That sounds like fucking bliss. 

Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful

Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today. 

And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help. 

All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance? 

Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you

Fucking hell.

Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way. 

Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…

All he wants to do is see you, too. 

You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy. 

After all this time. All these days and nights. 

You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.  

It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms. 

But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left. 

He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds. 

How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice. 

Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more. 

Something that isn’t broken. 

Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table. 

What. No way. 

From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark. 

And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen. 

Hustler: Incoming Call 

But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.

And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight. 

“Are we… is this over?” 

Fuck.

“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.” 

Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?” 

“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”

“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.” 

“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”

“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.” 

Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside. 

“Are you? With me?” 

Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud, 

“No way in hell, doll.” 

Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned. 

“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.” 

That’s okay. 

Because he’s had a day, too. 

“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.” 

Please keep going. 

Please don’t leave him alone. 

“Talk to me.” 

Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit. 

You’re so good at that. 

“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—” 

Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.

“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”  

The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier. 

“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky. 

If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is. 

The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.” 

“Fuck, really?” 

“Yeah.” 

You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it. 

“What did he say?” 

Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.” 

“Oh, thank fuck.” 

Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.” 

“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?” 

Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.” 

And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.

“Me, too, baby.” 

Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter. 

Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?”

He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother. 

“Just a little longer.”

He has to.

“Okay.”

Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too. 

“Thank you.”

What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen. 

“For putting up with me.”

Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours. 

At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.

“Really?”

Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”

“Boo.”

Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”

“A ha… Yeah.” 

“What are you still talking to me for?” 

“I miss you.” 

Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms. 

Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.” 

“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”  

God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.” 

“Why?” 

Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.” 

“Fuck.” 

Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?” 

He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.

“I hate you.” 

Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.” 

“Ha ha.” 

You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink. 

“Nu uh! You hate me, too.” 

Wait. Did you…

Did you just pout? 

Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.” 

“Wait, huh? Why!” 

“Nothing.” 

“I swear to god—” 

“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear, 

“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?” 

The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.” 

“Kitchen.” 

The hell? “How’d you know?” 

“You’re always in there.” 

Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.” 

“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?” 

“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all. 

“The world said let them cook.” 

Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game. 

But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you. 

“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks. 

After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing, 

“You better sleep, too.”

“I will.” 

With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue. 

Because of you. It’s always you. 

Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”

“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”

Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.” 

There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves. 

“Okay. Good night, baby.”

One more heartbeat to get him through the night. 

“Night, doll.”

When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room. 

Right towards the corner that stares back. 

It’s been five days.

But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.

Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit. 

And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange. 

When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door. 

…So what in the fuck was that?

You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress. 

Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you. 

He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too. 

This is so hard. 

The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself. 

Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.  

Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo

Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :) 

No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect. 

Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.

So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.

Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.

There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio. 

What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.

Tonight.  

This man.

I got the next one.

This wonderful, charming man. 

But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. 

Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped. 

After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.

The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further. 

A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.

Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.

You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds. 

And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep. 

Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.

Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?

You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.

Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week. 

Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.

Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call 

When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly. 

“Hey.” 

All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers. 

But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.” 

You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.” 

He simply huffs a quiet laugh.

“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.” 

Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah! I got big girl money now.” 

Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker? 

“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.” 

“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”

The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal. 

“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.” 

It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.” 

“Do better.” 

Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.” 

“What? Who said anything about dessert?” 

“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to— 

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”

“I am.”

The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.” 

“That’s a given, though.”

“Excuse you.”

Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching. 

“Mm, babe. One more thing.” 

Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”

There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—

“I think we’re out of condoms.” 

Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head. 

“Wait. Or are we?”

Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”

And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green, 

“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”

“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Found some?”

“No.”

Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”

And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness. 

And you want that to be the case forever. 

“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.” 

“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.” 

“Damn!” 

As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes. 

“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.” 

There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—

“It’s gonna happen, doll.” 

You clutch the wheel.

“Cus I want that, too.”

One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again. 

Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned. 

It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too. 

“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.  

“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”

His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!” 

“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.” 

“You could’ve asked somebody.” 

Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering. 

And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.

But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver. 

“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…” 

“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?” 

“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”

Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him. 

And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too. 

Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection. 

“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.” 

And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”

“Uh huh.”

Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”

“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.” 

Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink? 

But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”

Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.” 

Your turn to blink.

“And I needed food.”

This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—” 

“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.” 

The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen. 

“Eat.”

The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”

“Mm.”

“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.” 

“Just a bite then.” 

Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try. 

There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.” 

Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”

A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”

The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”

That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”

His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze. 

What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?” 

“Everything.” 

Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.” 

Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.” 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. 

After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.” 

You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold. 

“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.” 

You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do. 

“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.” 

There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?” 

“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.

And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too. 

“…Yeah.” 

Fuck. “About what?” 

“That you’d hate me.” 

Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.” 

“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.” 

Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying. 

“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.” 

He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..” 

He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.” 

“You do?” 

Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.” 

“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.” 

Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers. 

“Hmm?” 

He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh. 

“Always, doll.” 

And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.” 

If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same. 

The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time. 

But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center? 

Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?” 

“Where we’re going.”

Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”

When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”

“Then why—”

He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward. 

But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.

“You comin’?”

Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever. 

Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”

And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.” 

“Yoongi!”

Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else. 

Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.

And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”

Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”

You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical. 

So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”

Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump. 

How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair. 

After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him. 

What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”

Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”

“So I shouldn’t bust in?”

Huh. “What?”

“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”

“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”

He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath. 

Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”

“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”

The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face. 

What is it with him and keys? 

When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous, 

“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”

You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage. 

How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.

When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!

A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”

With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.” 

“So fucking long.”

You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.

But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right? 

Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.

“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.

Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.

Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours. 

When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,

“You’re so cute.”

“How,” you ask just as softly.

And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”

Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.

But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile, 

“Eat.”

“Huh?”

“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.

When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.

Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.

If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over! 

Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.

And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.

The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.

“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.” 

And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.

…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about. 

No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here. 

And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio. 

Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma. 

But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before. 

Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here. 

Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.

And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”

You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there. 

“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”

“Thanks.” 

You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,

“You’re perfect, you know that?” 

Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?” 

“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”

Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.” 

“Good. You bored?”  

“Huh?”

Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”

“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use. 

You could do this for eternity, too.

“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”

This man. 

“Forever might be a stretch.” 

“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take. 

“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness. 

So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.” 

Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.” 

“It was kinda hot.” 

His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.” 

Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.” 

And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood. 

But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history. 

When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.” 

“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.” 

The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.” 

“And why is that?”

“Cus of what I’m wearing.” 

And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”

Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”

“Okay.”

But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”

“What.”

His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”

You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”

“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”

Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember? 

“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.” 

“Uh huh.”

“I’d make you cry what the fuck!” 

Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”

“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”

“It’s mine, I just ran out—”

“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands. 

And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks. 

Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!” 

“Uh huh.” 

You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around. 

Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else. 

Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.  

You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in. 

Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front, 

“Careful, doll.”

“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?” 

More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.” 

Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”

“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.” 

Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is. 

Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return. 

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.” 

“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state. 

“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.” 

For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet. 

At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before. 

But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills. 

Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them? 

Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.

Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.

But team jerseys? 

Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage. 

When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone? 

As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here. 

Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second. 

Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.

Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue. 

They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about? 

Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.” 

“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.” 

Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!” 

You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start? 

Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?” 

Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why me?” 

Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.” 

“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?

Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”

“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!” 

Ah, you were right. “I like it.” 

Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?” 

“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.” 

Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.” 

When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.” 

You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.

A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead. 

And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest. 

Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long. 

“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”  

“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”

The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater. 

Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother. 

All you can do is stare back. 

And without even realizing. 

You’re already rubbing your arm.

-

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tbc. :((

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a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!

a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[daisies-daydreams]

Okay so I was listening to the song agora hills (not saying I like Doja but her song hit okay? Hate the sinner love the sin) ANDDDD it have major hobie brown x lovesick puppy reader. Like this woman is DEVOTED to her mans. Like really devoted. On her knees with puppy eyes type of love. Always wanting to be on him and nuzzling him. Whines when he tries to move. Just very..loving. Hobie doesn’t mind obviously. And it gets worse when they have sex. She whines while his cock rams into her, grabbing the sheets tightly to ground her🙏. SO YES I NEED A FIC LIKE THATTT…just very fluffy but smeggsy sex

Somethin’ Different About You (Hobie Brown x Lovesick!F!Reader)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Lovesick!F!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut Tags: Swearing, Reader Gets Whiney, Making Out, Foreplay, Vaginal Fingering, Cock Piercings (Prince Albert), Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Doggy Style, Unprotected P in V Sex (You Know the Drill), Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Creampie, Post-Sex Cuddling, Cockwarming, Ass-Lover Hobie™ Word Count: 3k+ A/N: I literally listened to Agora Hills for the first time a few weeks ago and it was 😩👌Anywhoooo, thank you for the spicy request and I hope you enjoy!

“Guess we’re havin’ a night in,” Hobie shrugged as he peeked at the thick blanket of snow covering the street below. Frost caked the outside of your flat’s window as a tiny space heater hummed in the corner of your room. Your boyfriend closed the blinds shut before turning towards you with a quirked brow.

“You cold, babydoll?” Hobie asked as he watched you tremble beneath the thick comforter. You nodded as your teeth chattered incessantly. Hobie pursed his lips before he lumbered towards your bed. Your heart skipped a beat as your love cupped your cheek, his palm already warming you to the core.

“You want me to help warm you up?” he murmured, a hint of desire laced in his words as he looked at you with a soft, half-lidded gaze. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat as you eagerly nodded your head.

“P-Please,” you frowned and wiggled beneath your comforter. Hobie cracked a grin and chuckled before he grabbed the bottom of his red t-shirt. Your eyes widened as he quickly slipped his shirt over his head, his puffy wicks fanning out as he tossed the clothing aside. You sucked in a sharp breath as you raked your eyes over his lean abs, your eyes eventually landing on the thick, dark happy trail.

“Like what you see, lovie?” Hobie snickered with a teasing grin. You bit your lip as your cheeks swelled with heat.

"I can't help it," you muttered sheepishly as you glanced away. Your boyfriend snickered as he unlatched the buckle of his studded leather belt, his ripped jeans falling to the floor not long after. You felt a wave of heat wash over you as you caught side of Hobie's dark boxers loosely hanging around his sharp hips. He chuckled again.

“Scoot on over, baby,” he lilted. You immediately did as you were told, your heart pounding in your ears as he slid beneath the covers with you. You instantly came to his side and snuggled against his warm body, your lips curled into a giddy smile as he wrapped his lanky arms around you. “Mmm, there’s my pretty girl,” Hobie cooed before gently kissing the crown of your head. You squealed and dipped your head into his chest as he wrapped one of his ankles around yours.

Hobie sighed, letting his warm breath cascade over the back of your ear and down your neck as he held you close. Your heart skipped a beat as he nuzzled his face into your neck - his plush lips delicately brushing over your pulse and nose ring gliding against your skin.

“I was thinkin’…maybe after the weather gets better, we could go iceskatin’? I know you've been wantin' to go for a while,” he suggested as he traced mindless shapes against your hip. Your eyes lit up as you wiggled at his suggestion.

“Really?” you breathed while tilting your head over your shoulder. Hobie hummed and gave a lopsided grin.

“Really really,” he replied. Your smile grew as you turned around and pecked his lips. Hobie grinned into the kiss as he spread his palm across your waist. His lips on yours felt like sunlight on a spring day: warm and soothing to the touch. You whined when he suddenly started to slip away.

“Babe, I’m just gettin’ a glass of water,” Hobie laughed. You pouted as you gazed into his deep, brown eyes.

“No, you’re too warm,” you keened and rolled on top of him. Your lover chuckled softly as you shoved your face into his neck. He sighed and stroked his hands up and down your back as he pecked your temple.

"I'll be gone for a bit, yeah?" he said while gently brushing his thick thumbs over your hips. Your heart fluttered at his light touch as you parted your lips against his skin. Hobie’s breath hitched as you gently kissed his pulse, letting your lips linger against his neck as you felt his hands tighten around your waist. “Please? Just a little longer?” you murmured, your lips dancing over his sensitive pulse as your breasts pushed against his chest. Hobie swallowed thickly as he tilted his head back. His pupils grew by the second as you gave him your best puppy-dog eyes. Your boyfriend sighed and scratched the back of his head.

“Well…who am I to deny my baby ?” your lover said with a cocked grin. You squealed and wiggled on top of him, drawing another deep, melodic chuckle from his throat. You smiled widely as you finally felt like you were starting to warm up against your beloved’s body, his hands wandering up and down your sides as he peppered your cheek with kisses. You giggled before he suddenly laid his palms against your ass and tenderly squeezed your supple cheeks.

A mischievous smile crossed Hobie’s features as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Y’know…there’s another way I could help warm you up,” he whispered while smoothing his hands up and down your bum.

You squealed as he suddenly flipped you over, his long body draped along your back as your stomach and breasts pressed against the ruffled sheets. You whined as you felt him trace his hands along the curve of your butt.

“You wanna feel my fingers stuffin’ that perfect pussy of yours, sweet girl?” Hobie purred as he teased the band of your pants with his nimble fingers. Your walls fluttered as you gulped.

"Y-Yes please," you murmured and swayed your hips side to side. Your jaw went slack when he suddenly tugged your pants and panties over the globes of your ass.

You shivered as the cold air rolled over your exposed skin while Hobie slipped his hand between your soft thighs. You keened and arched your back as Hobie gently circled his fingertips over your slick, needy hole. You trembled as he pecked over your neck and slid his long, heavy fingers up and down your juicy slit. You moaned and wiggled beneath your lover as he spread your folds apart, the small squelch sending a pulse of heat through your dripping snatch.

"Keep making those noises f'me, baby. Love hearin' your sweet voice," Hobie purred before puckering his lips over your neck. You gasped and mewled as he suckled on your pulse while smoothing his fingers over your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Mmm, good girl," he groaned before lathing his warm tongue over the fresh hickey adorning your neck.

"Hobie, please," you pouted and shifted your hips as he continued to tease your puffy clit with his digits. You felt him smirk against your pulse as he trailed his fingers further down your slit. You squeezed your eyes shut and ducked your head into your arms as he gently prodded your entrance wide open with two thick fingers.

"God, you feel so fuckin’ warm," Hobie rumbled before sucking over your neck once more. You panted as you felt him sink his digits even deeper inside your wet heat, feeling every inch of his long fingers drag along your velvety walls.

“H-Hobieee~,” you keened as you felt your tight hole being stretched by his nimble digits. Your walls pulsed as he peppered your neck with wet, sloppy kisses. The deep groan that reverberated inside Hobie’s chest made you quiver as he began to slowly pump his fingers inside your dripping sex. A sharp cry fell from your lips as he scissored his digits within your tight heat.

“Such a sweet girl,” your boyfriend murmured as he skillfully curled his fingers with a wet squelch. You squirmed as he slipped his other hand up your burning body, his fingers taking a greedy handful of your breast before giving it a tender squeeze.

“F-Faster, please,” you begged him while slapping your ass against his palm. Hobie’s snicker reverberated against your neck before he slammed his fingers down to the knuckle. You squirmed and keened at the delicious push and pull of his digits against your sensitive, velvety walls.

“Fuck,” you choked out as you ducked your face into the pillow. Your body jiggled each time he thrusted his fingers back into you, drawing out heavy sighs and sonorous moans from your pretty lips.

“Yeah, that’s it baby girl,” your boyfriend praised as he snaked his other hand around and began to draw sloppy shapes around your clit. You tensed beneath him as your walls fluttered against his long, curved digits. “Don’t hold back - I want you to cum on my fingers before I fuck this cute little pussy of yours,” your lover rumbled in a low, husky voice before nipping at your earlobe.

Your eyes rolled back as he rubbed your clit with even more fervor, each stroke bringing you closer and closer to the edge of your sweet release.

“H-Hobie,” you writhed as he tugged the collar of your sweater to the side. A small gasp left you as Hobie nibbled on your shoulder before lathing his warm, wet tongue over the tiny bite mark. Your legs violently shook as your boyfriend's fingertips brushed against your gummy cervix, the sensation causing the band inside you to violently snap.

“Fuck yes!” you cried out and threw your head back as your pussy squeezed his digits in a greedy vice - soaking his nimble fingers with your warm, delectable nectar.

“Christ,” Hobie cursed as he slowly dragged his fingers inside your puckering hole. “Makin’ such a mess, babydoll," your lover drawled. Your jaw went slack when he curled his fingers against your g-spot; a massive wave of pleasure rolling through your fluttering cunt as you mewled. “I fuckin’ love it,” Hobie murmured while smirking against your shoulder.

You felt like your limbs were turned to jelly by the time your walls stopped pulsing around his thick digits. Your breath hitched as your boyfriend slowly pulled out his deft fingers, leaving your entrance raw and oozing with your cream. You slowly opened your eyes when you felt something warm and slick against the corner of your mouth.

"Go on, lovie: see how good you taste," your lover rumbled. You parted your lips with a heavy sigh before Hobie slipped in his slick-coated digits. You moaned softly as the sweet taste of your own cum washed over your delicate tastebuds. Hobie groaned and pulled his boxers down as you curled your lips over his fingers and suckled on them tenderly.

"Fuck, that's a good girl," he praised as you swirled your tongue around his thick, long fingers. You fluttered your lashes as he pulled his fingers towards the inside of your cheek. You mewled and thrusted your ass back as you felt the cold bulb of his cock piercing rub up and down your drenched slit.

"You still want me to stretch out this cute pussy with my thick cock, hm?" Hobie chuckled as he teased your needy clit with his throbbing tip.

"Fuck, yes!" you slurred against his fingers as you threw your ass back. You could practically feel the smirk on Hobie's face as he slipped his fingers from your mouth with a wet "pop". You shivered as he traced his wet fingertips along your spine before smoothing his palm over one of your supple asscheeks. You squirmed against your lover's touch as he lined his tip to your weeping entrance. The ache to be filled with his long, veiny cock drove you into a lustful frenzy as you whined.

"Hobie, please! I-I need you," you mewled your cheeks jiggling against his taut hips as his bulbous head just barely slipped past the rim of your tight hole. You shivered as his hot breath fell against your neck.

"I'm here, baby," he murmured gently as he spread your cheeks apart. You gasped and instantly curled your fists against the soft, cotton sheets as Hobie slowly pushed his girth inside your needy cunt.

"Fuck, Hobie!" you moaned and squeezed your eyes shut as your walls stretched and molded to the perfect curve of his length.

"God, you wrap around me so fuckin' perfectly," Hobie grunted as he squeezed your bum. A shiver ran down your spine and straight to your core when his sharp hips became flush against your ass, his whole length stuffing you to the limit. You swallowed thickly and mewled as you felt his heavy balls rest snugly against your puffy clit: the light pressure enough to make you nearly fall over the edge again.

"Oh my fuckin' God," Hobie groaned as your walls pulsed around his shaft. Your eyes shot open as he dragged his cock half-way out before slowly thrusting it back inside your tight, squelching hole. "Pussy feels so good, lovie," he moaned as he rocked his hips at a steady pace.

"F-Fuck," you keened at the delectable, wet friction of his dick gliding along your silky walls. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you felt your cunt spasm and clench around his cock. "No, not yet," you begged internally before gasping as he slammed his cock down to the hilt.

Your moans nearly shook the walls as Hobie's pace began to pick up, the tightness in your core growing with every drag of his dick. Your legs trembled as you felt his Prince Albert kiss and rub against your cervix with each eager thrust.

"S-Shit, babydoll. Huggin' me so tight," Hobie grunted as he dug his nails into your hips, the pressure enough to surely leave bruises tomorrow. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as stars began to dance in your vision.

"God, yes - k-keep going," you moaned and arched your spine as you felt every nerve ending in your body glow with pleasure. Your body instantly stiffened when Hobie slipped his fingers against your engorged clit.

"Hobie!" you screamed as the cord inside you violently snapped. Your eyes rolled back as waves of pleasure crashed and tumbled over you - a riptide of bliss tearing your mind to shreds. Your legs quaked as your pussy clenched down on his dick - gripping it in a deliciously snug vice.

"Oh God," Hobie grunted as his thrusts faltered, your walls pulsing and soaking his cock with your warm slick. You babbled his name incessantly as he began to snap his hips forward once more. "You're so fuckin' hot when you squirt all over my cock, baby," your boyfriend moaned while pounding into your puffy cunt.

You could only manage a strangled mewl as your body was shaken with wave after wave of overstimulation. Your jaw went slack at the sound of your cheeks clapping each time Hobie's hips slapped against your body.

"Want me to fill you up, sweet girl?" Hobie purred as he began to rub messy circles around your bundle of nerves. You released a strained cry of pleasure when his cock twitched between your snug walls. "C'mon, baby: let me here you," your lover coaxed before gently pressing his soft lips to your shoulder. You parted your lips as you slightly tilted your head to the side.

"Y-Yes," your voice cracked as you felt yourself already growing tight again. Only Hobie could do this: make you cum so many times before he eventually filled you up with his thick, potent seed. "Yes, H-Hobie. Please stuff me so full that your cum leaks from my pussy," you mewled. You felt him smirk against the patch of goosebumps over your skin as he continued to thrust his heavy length into your aching, stretched out hole.

"That's my girl," Hobie's breath stuttered before he latched his mouth onto your skin. You threw your head back and keened as you felt the gentle suction of his lips against the tender bite mark left from before. Your mind was too far-gone with pleasure to even register the sound of your bed loudly creaking and groaning as your lover's thrusts began to falter.

"Fuck, (Y/N). Cum with me, lovie. Cum with-" Hobie cut himself off as he suddenly slammed his cock down to the base. Both of you moaned in unison as waves of pleasure rocked you to the core. "Fuck yes," Hobie gasped as his cock pulsed inside your drenched cunt, painting your walls with ropes of this thick seed. Your head spun as he panted against your shoulder, his fingers now digging crescents into your plush waist.

"S-So good, Hobie," you shuddered as your body was ravaged with euphoria. You panted heavily as your pussy sucked him deep inside you, his piercing pressing against the gummy plug to your womb as his cock continued to throb. Your heart pounded in your ears as you drifted back down from your high, your body coated in a thin sheet of sweat as Hobie groaned.

The room was filled with the sound of your combined, heavy panting as the two of you caught your breath. You whimpered as he slowly began to pull out.

"You okay, lovie?" Hobie asked as he smoothed his hands over the marks he dug into your hips. You sighed as you soaked in every dip and curve of his body pressed against yours: from his calloused fingertips lingering on your skin to his softening cock still trapped between your cum-coated walls.

"I...I just want us to stay like this," you said while biting your lip, your heart pounding against your sternum as you fluttered your lashes. "Please?" you cooed. Hobie chuckled softly as he gave a slow nod.

"As you wish," he hummed. You squeaked when he suddenly wrapped his lanky arms around your torso and plopped onto his side.

"Hobie!" you laughed as he pecked your neck while pulling you flush against him. You giggled at the cheeky smile plastered on his face as he peppered your neck with slow, lazy kisses. Your body glowed with warmth as he sighed and traced his fingertips over the curves of your stomach.

"You're so special t'me, y'know that?" Hobie said, his voice hoarse yet also endearingly soft. You slowly turned your head and gave him a gentle smile.

"You're special to me, too, Hobie," you murmured before kissing the tip of his pierced nose. Your boyfriend grinned ear-to-ear as he closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into your neck.

"Love you, babydoll," Hobie murmured as he slowly closed his eyes. You giggled when he suddenly let out a loud snore, the sound rumbling through your ear as his chest rose and fell. You cooed and pecked his cheek before pulling the covers over your worn bodies.

"Love you, too, Hobie," you whispered gently.

————

Thank you for reading! 💖

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[cursingtoji]

I am back for more

31… BUT HEAR ME OUT 😩 I can’t pick between Suguru and Choso because they both fit it SOO well so you pick ☺️💕

𝕿𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝕬𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖘𝖙!𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔

⊱ fem reader x heavily tattooed choso, porn with a plot, dirty talk, semi-public sex, fingering, a tongue piercing; The Clichés ™;

note: winter i remember us talking about tattoo artist choso and i went feral with it, geto is mentioned but he does not participate (yet? 👀)

tattoo artist!Choso who is heavily tattooed mostly black and gray art. his fair skin contrasting with the dark ink on his arms and neck. black smudged eyeliner around his brown eyes make his look upon you feel a thousand times deeper

choso is a sight for sore eyes

he’s exactly the kind of guy you would expect to see working in a tattoo shop

when you go get a matching tattoo with your best friend is when you first see him, writing something down at the reception and not noticing you at first

his pretty face and deep eyes greet you both with a smile so pretty that makes you forget the name of your scheduled artist.

“matching tattoos…” he looks in a book as you hope him to be the artist, “ah here, Suguru!” he calls and a man with black hair tied in a bun comes to you and your friend.

“thank you” you smile getting a wink back from him.

suguru is very friendly, he asks your bestie questions about your friendship since she’s the first one to get inked while you look around the shop, more specifically at the art in frames hanging all around the walls.

one catches your eye: a traditional japanese dragon with some flowers and clouds around it.

you even get closer to take a better look at the intricate details

your friend has to tap your shoulder when shes done cause you completely spaced out thinking about that art on your body

suguru can’t help but notice how your eyes keeping swinging back to that piece on the art while he’s tattooing your forearm

“you know that was done by one of our guys” he says, “Choso. You met him in the reception” he points with his chin to the handsome man

“really? that’s so beautiful… was it done for a client or something like that?” you ask wanting to know if someone else already had that piece of art tattooed.

“no, not really. choso created that on his own” suguru smirks when sees you biting your lip “you know… that would look gorgeous on your back or thigh” you were already tempted without suguru pushing you

by the time your matching tattoo is done, suguru had already convinced you to come back and get the dragon on your thigh, since choso was nowhere to be seen, suguru himself scheduled your appointment with choso for next week.

“gotcha an appointment” suguru says finding choso on the break room

“oh yeah?”

“she’s gonna get the dragon with flowers that has been on the wall for months”

choso stops all he’s doing and looks at suguru with an empty expression

“i know i know, you’re afraid to tattoo it, client not liking and you ending up heart broken cause it’s your favourite drawing of yours…” choso delivered a light punch on his friend’s shoulder, “but come on, the girl was so cute and she really loved it”

it’s not like choso could just call you and say he wasn’t gonna do it so after another punch on suguru he returned to his station and followed his week until the day you returned to studio

saying you were anxious is an understatement

it would be a pretty large tattoo that you decided to get on your thigh, but the expectation to see choso again played a big part on your apprehensiveness

your artist is already at the reception talking to a younger guy you haven’t seen around the last time

you greet them both and say your there for your appointment, the younger one asks who your artist is

“she’s mine, come on sweetheart” he says so casually and leaves you trying to regulate your heartbeats

choso takes you upstairs to the corner of the room and tells you to get comfortable on the chair after you okayed the size of the stencil

“i need you to take it off or it’ll get stained with ink” he pointed to your shorts and closed the curtain, he stayed there but turned around pretending to organize the caps to give you some privacy

you wiggle out of the article and sat back on the chair with your black undies and nothing else under the waist, thankfully you chose a good one, when you’re comfortable choso approaches to rub some alcohol and place the stencil

as soon as you agree he begin to trace the patterns with you sitting on the partially reclined chair

“how we doing?” he looks up after half an hour, having finished part of the drawing

“i’m alright” you sigh

“strong girl, we can make a break in another hour, then i’ll have finished the flowers” he assures and go back to focusing on your thigh

having a gorgeous man so close to your crotch was having an effect on you that didn’t match the pain he was inflicting

of course it hurt but every time he gets too close to your skin and you feel his hot breathing fanning over the sore area you unconsciously press your thighs together

and choso is not stupid, of course he notices how aroused his cute client is, he has his hand on your inner thigh and whenever your reflexes kick and you try to close them he tights his grip on you to avoid you moving and screwing up his lines

“sure you’re okay?” he stops the machine to run vasiline on your skin very softly while looking in your eyes, you can’t find your voice to answer him “we can take a break now, maybe i can get you to relax a little” he doesn’t need to move his hand much to touch the covered lips of your pussy, when he does you whimper

“i can smell how wet you are, does pain turn you on that much?” he removes his hand to snap his glove out and touch the wet patch on your underwear with his bare fingers

you shake your head “no? what was it then? don’t tell me it’s me” he raises from his stool staring from above while you look back at him with doe eyes “aren’t you cute” he murmurs kissing your forehead and pushing your underwear aside to run his fingers on your wet folds a couple of times before pushing them in

“i need you to keep it down for me, can you do that?” he murmurs it so low you barely hear it due to the other voices on the other side of the curtain, you nod and starts to move his fingers skillfully

“naughty girl, booked a tattoo just to get your pussy played with tsk tsk” he adds a second finger keeping your clit under his thumb

“no! i really want it” you reply immediately not wanting him to think for a second you didn’t love his art

that seemed to be enough affirmation for choso, who leans taking your chin with his free hand, he stops right before your lips studying the little pout you have and how dilated your pupils are

he smirks and softly bites your bottom lip, which makes you yelp but he licks it apologetically

choso feels like eating you whole, the way you respond to him is mesmerizing

“c-choso i’m close” you grip his arm and he pushes his tongue in, swallong your moans cause the last thing he needs is one of his coworkers finding out about this

you didn’t notice at first due to his ministrations bellow your waist but he had a tongue piercing, the cold metal rolls between your tongues, a new exciting addition to an already great kiss

his thumb flicker your clit and you press your thighs around his hand climaxing hard and silently

“good girl” he pulls away taking a string of saliva, you rest your head on the chair recovering from your high, for a second your eyes close but soon open them again when you feel a tissue touch your sensitive core

“wait aren’t you— aren’t we—?” you look down to his bulge, he was clearly aroused too

“calm down lady, this is just the first session” he laughs and gently cleans you and the chair finishing up by placing your underwear back, “lemme finish this and if you don’t tap out or squirm i’ll reward you in the end” he winks before disappearing behind the curtains for a couple of minutes, you take the chance to look down at your skin

it was a bit swollen but you could see that the part he had inked already was perfect, the dragon was halfway done and you couldn’t wait to see it completed

when choso gets back he’s pleasurably surprised to find you looking at your leg with a smile in your face

“lemme see…” a few hours later you’re at the reception talking to the boy from before to schedule your return in order to color the rest of the tattoo, “choso is free next—“

“actually yuuji you can book her for this weekend” choso steps up, just walking down the stairs. moments before he told to check with yuuji while he cleaned his station

“you are not working this weekend” yuuji looks at him suspiciously

“i am now” choso emphasize by tapping his finger on the date at the planner

“hm okay” yuuji takes your information and you thank him before choso leads you out

“you’ll be working just for me?” you ask once you’re out

“yeah but you’ll buy us lunch after i’m done”

“done with the tattoo?”

“done with you” your eyes widen and you’re already excited for your date

“okay, I’ll pay, but…” you step closer to him but not too much so the people inside the shop don’t notice, “you’ll have to use your tongue”

“you liked that?” he rolls his tongue out displaying the shiny round metal, “fine i’ll show you what i can do with it next time”

See also: “who did this to you?” + Sukuna

[here2bbtstrash]

crybaby (explicit)

genre: all pwp all smut babeyyyyyy

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.

word count: 4.3k

contains: explicit sexual content!!!!!! like that's the whole fic lmao 😵‍💫 established relationship, marathon sex, wrist restraints/bondage, cocky yet eager sub!jungkook 🥵, soft dom!reader but she can be a lil tough, clothed tit play, objectification, she calls him bunny which i think is cute 🥺, spitting, dick riding, unprotected sex, fingers in mouth, humping/grinding, jk has a nipple piercing 🙈, overstimulation/multiple orgasms - for both of them hehe, vibrator use, jungkook (and reader!) pushing himself to his limits bc..... he's jungkook, he cries 🥲, reader finds it hot 👀, a lottttt of sweat & cum lol, cum licking/eating, blowjob, maybe some subspace if you squint, winners never quit 💪, talk of coming dry at the end, jk is kind of a little shit lmaooooo - alright i think that's it 😩

A/N: not me barely managing to get this up before the ticket sales start 😅 happy hunger games to y'all who have codes!!! this fic is a birthday gift to my love, my angel, my cunning linguist @moni-logues 💜 HAPPY (yesterday) BIRTHDAY bb, can't wait to marry you on our first date, it is the joy of my life to build castles in the air with you~

and god bless jk for his lives the past few weeks bc they breathed so much life into this regular degular "sub!jk" fic idea. i'm v obsessed with his personality and the way he always pushes himself "just a little more", whether it's in staying up til 5 am singing karaoke on his couch or giving his absolute all in a workout. just so in love with our bunny tbh, so i hope you enjoy this spicy version of him too!! 🥰

read on AO3!

~*~

You know your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.

He stays up late even when he’s exhausted, likes to do his workouts to failure, could spend hours in a tattoo session with the needle pressed to his skin and his bones humming from the buzz. Always holding out for as long as he can, always wanting just a little bit more before he calls it quits, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts. Because he wants to test his limits.

And today, you want to test them, too.

That’s why you text him to meet you in the bedroom, let him find you in nothing but one of his oversized Carhartt shirts, kneeling up on the bed as you affix a pair of purple silk restraints to the headboard.

There’s the soft creak of the mattress from Jungkook’s added weight, and you feel the heat of him as he crowds you from behind, hands dragging up the curve of your hips and taking the hem of your borrowed shirt with it.

“This was the emergency, huh?” The low murmur of his voice is chased by the cool touch of his lip ring as he drags his mouth up the nape of your neck. A blossom of arousal starts to unfurl in your core. “Wanted to use these?”

“Yeah,” you answer, feigning nonchalance as you give the silk a firm tug to test that it holds. Satisfied, you let yourself sink back into Jungkook’s touch, dropping your head against his shoulder and smiling when he leans down to brush his lips over yours. He hums a soft little sound into your mouth.

You cup your hand to the nape of his neck when you pull away to finish the thought. “Thought we could try them on you.”

The words are seemingly all your boyfriend needs to hear; he drops down onto the mattress so hard that he bounces a little. You can’t help but laugh at the way he scrambles to strip out of his sweatshirt, like he’s being timed, then hurriedly centers himself on the pillows, eyes glinting dark with desire.

When you first started talking to Jungkook, everything about him made you expect that he would be the one to call the shots. The good looks, the tattoos and piercings, the muscles— and definitely the motorcycle. But once you’d sat across from him at dinner on your first official date, only to watch him blush and fumble his way through a conversation, you started to suspect that maybe he preferred to follow rather than lead.

That thought was certainly confirmed the next time you saw him out in public: it’d been a full two weeks since your first date, with nothing but radio silence between you since. You were admittedly maybe a little too drunk when you spotted him out with his friends at the same bar you’d been dragged to by yours— drunk enough to have no problem walking right up to him to read him for filth, in front of all of his friends, for ghosting you.

Except he’d just blinked those big brown eyes up at you, mouth dropped open in disbelief, and quietly admitted that he’d been waiting all this time for you to text him.

One of his friends had clapped him on the back, laughing loudly as he corroborated Jungkook’s confession. “He’s been having midnight karaoke pity parties because he never heard from you. Please take this boy out again before his neighbors have him evicted!”

That night told you everything you needed to know about how the dynamics in your relationship would work out. That if you wanted something, there was a very good chance Jungkook wanted it, too.

Which is why it doesn’t surprise you that your boyfriend is already sprawled out half-naked on the bed beneath you, arms folded behind his head in a way that makes his biceps bulge, dangerously attractive.

His mouth pulls into a cocky, flirtatious grin. “Ah, so you wanna use me?”

“I do,” you murmur, straddling your thighs over his torso and leaning up to take the smooth purple silk between your fingers. He offers you one hand before you even have to ask for it, and takes advantage of the other’s last few minutes of freedom to paw at you over your shirt. His tattooed fingers seek out your breast and squeeze, his thumb flicking lazy strokes over your nipple.

You tug the knot of the restraint to tighten it, then look back just as Jungkook closes his lips around the clothed bud of your breast. The rough drag of cotton against your sensitive skin makes you hot all over, your nipple stiffening easily at the rub of his insistent tongue.

“How’s that? Too tight?”

He smirks with your tit still in his mouth, soaking a wet spot into your shirt, teeth scraping gently. “Could be tighter.”

“You are such a show-off,” you huff, more endeared than aggravated as you redo the knot, this time as tight as you can manage. Jungkook pulls against it teasingly, but it does actually seem to hold him in place, and you can feel a dull thud between your legs at the flex of his muscles on full display, the image of him already half-helpless beneath you.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he says, as if in explanation, giving your breast a final playful jiggle before you tug his other hand off to tie it up, too.

“Well, Jeon Jungkook,” you retort with a smirk and a grunt of effort as you lean over him to tug the knot tight. You glance down to find him already using the leverage of his restraints to pull himself up so that he can continue to nuzzle his face into your shirt between your tits, abdominals shaking a little from the effort, undeterred despite the loss of both of his hands.

You take his jaw in your grip and scoot yourself further down his body, dipping in to plant a kiss on his soft lips.

“Are you gonna be a good little toy for me?”

“Uh-huh,” he grunts, and you enjoy the tease of hovering just past where he can reach, watching him strain up toward your mouth to seek another kiss and fall ever so short.

You can feel arousal already dripping from your folds as you slide further down the bed, slipping off from on top of Jungkook to easily rid him of his joggers and briefs. His dick smacks against his stomach, thick and hard; wet, too, at the pretty brown tip. You toss his clothes over the edge of the bed, then strip your own shirt to follow before lowering yourself between his spread legs.

The muscles in Jungkook’s thighs tighten with visible anticipation as you hover above his cock, letting the heat of your breath fan out over him, not unlike the warm afternoon air leaking in through the cracked bedroom window, the first taste of spring. You can hear the wet clicks of Jungkook’s tongue in his mouth.

“Easy, bunny,” you murmur, and then you work up a mouthful of saliva and spit it right onto the head of his dick.

He hisses in a breath at the splatter of it, then gasps a soft little sound when you take him in your hand to slip your fist down the length of him. That’s Jungkook all over; always so eager, always so sensitive.

“What do you think?” you muse, your mouth ticking up as you feel Jungkook’s hips roll into your grasp. “Think it’s ready for me, baby?”

“‘Sready,” he grunts, teeth clenched. “Use it, jagi.”

You waste no time, crawling back up Jungkook’s body to settle your hips over his, flattening your palms against his chest. He’s still squirming, thighs flexing against the bed as he rocks up in a desperate attempt to find the wet heat of your cunt, and you giggle as you work yourself backwards until the head of his dick catches on your entrance.

It’s a bit of a stretch, but you’re wet enough to take it. You bite down on a smug smile as you manage to seat yourself on him hands-free.

“Fuck, love when you do that.” Jungkook’s voice is a low growl, and you slide a hand up the firm definition in his chest and slowly start to rock yourself along his length. His cock fills you up like he was made for it; you can feel every detail of him drag against your ridges, trailing sparks of pleasure as you tilt your hips to drive him right into your sweet spot.

Jungkook’s head kicks back against the pillow as a groan rips through him. There’s a gentle crease in his brow, furrowed in the way that tells you it’s so good: the tight heat of your pussy, the slick stretch of it when you work it on him. You ride him rough, make him take it like a good boy.

Another noise stutters out of Jungkook, chased this time by a huff of breath that it takes you a second to realize is a laugh, the tone caught halfway between shy and horny. You watch the way he squirms, restless against his restraints, like he can’t help himself.

He answers before you can ask. “The way your tits— fuckin’ bounce— fuck, I wanna touch you.”

The feeling sinks in as you watch him writhe beneath you, as you shove your hips back harder to pull more desperate sounds out of him. It’s fun, not letting him have what he wants, makes you drip that much more down the length of him.

“You can’t.”

“I know,” he grunts, wrists tugging uselessly. “It’s hot— that I can’t.”

“It is,” you concede, feigning composure despite the hitch in your breath, the way you’re already close to the edge and pushed that much closer by having Jungkook like this. Tied up, all yours, free to do with as you please.

And still fighting against his fucking restraints.

“Think I could rip these?”

It’s like your body acts faster than your pleasure-driven mind can keep up with: all at once, you’re tracing the pouted curve of Jungkook’s bottom lip, then slipping two fingers past it into the heat of his mouth.

“Shh, bunny,” you murmur. He blinks up at you, glassy-eyed as you pet over his tongue, all lush and wet on your fingertips. “Toys don’t talk.”

You press down more firmly as if for emphasis, enjoying how his soft parts give so easily to your touch, and then Jungkook outright moans around your fingers in his mouth.

The needy little sound makes your pussy pulse hot between your thighs.

“Fuck,” you hiss as you take him to the hilt, changing the stroke of your hips to grind against your toy, used solely to get yourself off now. Humping, really, rubbing your clit over the smooth skin of his abdomen where he’s blooming feverglow, flushed with need. Jungkook’s eyes flicker back in his head at the way your pussy’s taking him, squeezed tight like a vice and gushing wet. Working raw sounds out of him, his jaw gone slack; you can feel the blunt edge of his teeth and his heavy, shaky breath on the palm of your hand.

Your thighs shift to spread wider and the next drag of your clit is at just the right angle that pleasure surges up in you, undeniable, overwhelming. It’s all you can do now to chase your release, to keep rocking yourself into it, Jungkook’s thick cock plugged up inside of you and drool slicking out of his mouth to drip down your wrist.

“Gonna make myself come on my pretty little toy,” you manage to gasp.

Jungkook’s eyes find yours, burning intensity, the way he gets, and then he closes his lips tight around your fingers in his mouth and sucks, as if he’s begging to be used, and it sends you over the edge all at once. Your head tips back as your orgasm kicks through you, white noise pleasure, enough to get lost in.

Hips still rolling, you grind yourself through it, the waves of your climax swelling and receding again, until you finally drop forward against Jungkook’s chest, breathless and buzzing all over.

You let your fingers slip out of his mouth, exhale a laugh as they skip over the defined ridges of his stomach when you wipe your hand dry, taking full advantage of the fact that he’s powerless to stop you.

“Shit, that was hot.”

Jungkook’s voice is hoarse with desire as you shift to find the curve of his neck under your mouth, trailing kisses until your lips brush over the pretty lines of ink just behind his ear. He’s still thick and stiff inside you, with a steady pulse-throb that tells you how badly he needs to come, how worked up he is from being used as your personal hump-toy.

“Yeah,” you echo, paired with a tentative rock of your hips that makes your cunt flutter, overstimulated, tugs a little whine out of Jungkook, too. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth as you breathe against his flushed skin.

“Think I— wanna keep using my toy. Kinda feel like being greedy.”

Jungkook’s cock twitches, shameless, at your admission, again when you flick a thumb over the silver jewelry studded through his nipple. There’s a part of you that wants to keep him like this, his leaking-hard dick filling you up while you purr nasty shit in his ear, just to see if he can come from it.

“Might ride it until I break it.” You scrape your teeth up his neck and he moans. “Gonna take all I can give you, bunny?”

His throat jumps visibly as he swallows, fights to gasp a desperate “uh-huh”. Answers with his body, too, arching up to press himself deeper into you, rubbing the slick, hot tip of his cock into your front wall in just the right way to melt pleasure down your spine. You reward his eager submission with a soft kiss, then lick along the seam of his lips, enjoying the sweet little noises that pour into your mouth when you open him up.

Still intertwined, his tongue stroking over yours, your hand goes fumbling for the nightstand, comes away with the slender cylinder of your vibrator, and switches it on before slipping it down to press between your bodies.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook groans as you nestle the shuddering bullet between your folds and find the bud of your clit. You know he can feel it too from the way his hips jerk beneath you, the steady buzz engulfing his cock as you squeeze your pussy around him, all lush sensitivity from your first orgasm. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“You can.” The words are hardly more than a warm exhale from your mouth to his, your lips brushing. “But I’m not gonna stop.”

You don’t give him time to respond or even heave in another gasp of air before your thumb finds the button at the base of your vibrator, clicks it once, then again.

“F— ahh!”

Jungkook’s body jolts like a live wire as he falls apart beneath you. You sit up to take in the whole of him, your free palm slipping to the jut of his hip, fingertips splayed out and pressed heavy to anchor.

Pinned down and helpless, he trembles through the hot rush of his release, dick buried deep and pulsing as it all comes spilling out of him.

“That’s it, baby,” you coo. Your nails scratch lovingly against his skin to coax him out of it— taking such good care of your toy. His breath is punching out of his chest in these ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he whimpers through the comedown. So fucking beautiful like this.

The hum of the vibrator rolls through you, strong enough with the change in angle that your eyes drop shut to focus on the feeling.

Jungkook whines when you circle your hips with him still tucked up inside of you— it’s a wrecked little noise, high and sweet, underscored by the thick squelch of his cum starting to leak back down his shaft. Your thighs tense just right from the filthy sound of it, and then it’s all throbbing velvet glow in your core as you clench up and come on his cock again.

“Fuuuuuck, bunny,” you groan up to the ceiling, your head tipped back as it washes over you. “God, yeah.”

You flick the vibrator off when it gets to be too much, let it go rolling down the mattress— the bedroom feels bigger for the silence. Sweat slicks at the back of your knees, warm spring breeze still licking through the window to flutter the sheer-gauze curtains.

You’re fluttering too, all over: the kick of your heartbeat, the breath stuttering out of your lungs. The throb of your cunt, split open and drooling out juice, messy-wet fresh fruit.

The sound of the bedsheets shifting has your lashes flickering open again, and there’s Jungkook. Dark hair fanned out on the pillow, wrists bound, and that look in his eyes. Like he can take a little more. Like he’s waiting for your cue. Like there’s this whole-heart want brimming up inside of him, making his blood run hot.

He’s still hard between your legs.

“Go on then,” you tell him. “Give me another one.”

With a concentrated growl, Jungkook flattens his feet to the bed, grips tighter to his restraints for leverage, and starts to pound up into you. You can feel an overstimulated shudder in the stroke of his hips, how his cockhead twitches, sensitive, as it rubs over your g-spot. But he doesn’t stop; doesn’t even lose his rhythm.

He fucks you like a machine, and it’s all you can do to brace your palms against his chest and tip forward, rocking yourself down to meet him thrust for thrust.

The harsh slap of body on body is almost enough to drown out the rest: your open-mouthed panting, Jungkook’s groan when your nails dig crescent moon slivers into his tan skin, the gravel edge to your words, “Yeah, like that, fuck me just like that.”

It takes you a second to notice, the sound buried beneath it all, but then it floats through— Jungkook’s sucking his breath in through his teeth now, his jaw tight. You can see the jump of a muscle working there.

“Does it hurt, baby?” you gasp, more air than voice.

Jungkook’s head drops back against the pillow, brow pinched from the focus of keeping his pace steady. He’s breathless, too, when he answers: “Feels good.”

“Feels good because it hurts, huh? Is that how you like it?”

A strangled noise tears out of his throat, and he shoves up even harder, like he wants to fuck you into the shape of him. You splay one hand over the column of his throat and watch his pretty brown eyes blink-blink back at you, and then you have to bury your moans in the crook of his neck as you come hard.

The world around you returns a little at a time. First, the tremble of your tired thighs, the dull ache that’s already started to bloom at the bend of your knees. Then, Jungkook’s body curved up against yours, hips still slow-rolling as you exhale in hot, jagged bursts against his skin. There’s the distinct drip of his cum sliding out of you, and all the sticky-wet places where it’s slicked up the swell of your ass.

“Shit,” you laugh when you manage to find the breath for it. “That was crazy.”

Jungkook shifts a little, but doesn’t respond, and then he makes this wet, soft gasp. You realize he’s shaking beneath you.

You sit up so fast the room spins; your tether is Jungkook’s face, cupped lovingly now between your palms.

“Oh, baby.”

A fat teardrop traces a path down his cheek. Another threatens the dark border of his lashes. He can’t wipe them away with his wrists tied up, but you can see him trying to hold back even as a sob shudders through him, his chest heaving.

“You okay, my love?” you murmur, swiping a thumb across his face. He sniffles, nods, hiccups a little. The tip of his nose is flushed pink. “Shoulda told me to stop, if it was too much.”

“It feels good,” he insists, and his voice cracks around the words. “It’s just a lot. But ‘m not— don’t wanna stop.”

“No? You sure?”

Jungkook sucks his lip ring into his mouth as he nods again, sniffs again. That sends a bolt of something through you.

“You’ve been so good to me,” you praise, and you tip your ass back until his softening cock slips out, smeared glossy-white with your shared release. Jungkook’s still wound-up, pulled so tight inside himself that he flinches when you slip a hand down to ease his legs apart, sliding lower on the bed to slot yourself between them.

“Can I take care of you, bun?” The question’s posed sweetly, chased with a flutter of your lashes and kisses dropped down on the flat plane of his abdomen. “I’ll be gentle.”

He whimpers— answers in the way his hips lift up to meet your mouth.

Your hands press flat to Jungkook’s broad thighs, and you can feel the overwhelmed static-shiver beneath your palms, little tremors that jolt through his muscles. Head dipped low, you drag your tongue up his length and it punches a thick sob out of him, hips stirring like he’s trying to crawl up the bed. But you just keep going, pin him down and make him take it, working broad flat stripes over the whole of his shaft, root to tip. Tasting him, salt and slick and your own heady flavor; you lick him clean.

Jungkook comes quietly this time, feet flexing restless on the bed as you tongue it all out of him. You swipe two fingers through the mess on his stomach and suck that up, too.

Humming around the digits in your mouth, you surface from between Jungkook’s legs to take him in: eyes closed, face wet with tears. You can see the rise and fall of his chest as he gasps for air, shaky, coming down from it.

“Alright baby,” you soothe, shifting up to straddle his chest, knees sinking into the sheets. “All done now, just breathe. Gonna untie you.”

Reaching up, you gently tug open the knot on one restraint, then the other, easing Jungkook’s limp arms to the mattress. Your thumbs find his wrists to massage soft love-circles in case he’s gone numb there, gently coaxing him back to earth.

“Did so good for me, bunny.”

There’s a whimper, and then Jungkook’s surging up to kiss you, forceful enough that you give a little hum of surprise against his lips.

His hands are all over you, all at once, tugging at your legs to drag them forward until you’re flat on your back on the mattress. Your sore thighs shake when he shoves them up and apart, and then a sharp buzz rolls right over the bud of your clit and you keen. Fuck, when did he even grab the vibrator?

“Wanna make you come again,” he pants, and you smile even as your spine arches off the bed. Of course. You should’ve known.

It’s Jungkook all over, you think, hyper-focused on your pleasure even when he’s out of commission, and then you feel the head of his cock push inside and you both gasp. Your cunt aches, so swollen that it’s like he’s stretching you out all over again when you take him to the hilt.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. Jungkook’s hips snap, punctuated by a strangled grunt of effort, but he keeps going, making soft little sweet-pain whines with every thrust, brow scrunched as he brute-forces his way well past overstimulation.

He’s still crying, you realize.

Tears roll down his face and drip onto your collarbone, and everything’s somehow hotter for it. His length is slick, painted in the stored-up remnants of his cum, and you can hear the squish of your folds at the base of his cock each time he fucks it all back into you, so dirty it makes your head spin.

“J-just like that, baby,” you groan, overwhelmed; you can barely get the words out. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Jungkook buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him shaking, dripping, still rabbiting his hips into you, and then the hum of pleasure reverberating through your body explodes. Your clit throbs with an orgasm that feels endless, dizzying, divine. Jungkook outright sobs as your walls pulse pulse pulse around him, begging for every last drop.

When it’s all too much, you swat at his hand, mumbling shapes that aren’t words until the vibrator’s switched off and tossed away. He pulls out with a thick wet sound and the hiss of his breath between his teeth.

Together, you come down slow. Exhaling staccato, limbs tangled, bodies flushed and sweat-sticking.

Jungkook moves first: flops onto the mattress next to you, entirely exhausted, the way you’ve seen him get after a particularly rough workout. Scrubs at his face with one hand, this shy laugh fluttering out of him. “Can’t believe I cried. Ah, so embarrassing.”

You turn onto your side, tugging his hand away so you can press a kiss to his open palm. “Don’t ask me why but… in the moment? Very hot, actually.” A flush colors his cheeks and you giggle. “My perfect little crybaby.”

He flashes you his signature cocky grin, eyes squeezing shut as it morphs into something nearer to a wince. “Fuck, I’m so sweaty.” A breathless gasp, again. “And my dick hurts. I think I came dry that last time.”

“Poor baby,” you coo, not quite sincere. “You really could’ve stopped at… what, three?”

Eyes closed and still smirking, he shakes his head, damp hair falling in his face. “No I couldn’t have— I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

“You certainly are.”

[rockstarhaechan]

hiii, first of all, i love the 2015 memes <3 don’t listen to haters :( second, can i request a bsf nct dream reaction to u piercing ur nipples 😩 if your comfortable of course ☺️

thank youuuu <3 love your blog 🫶🏻

nct dream reacting to you getting your nipples pierced

pairing: bestfriend!nct dream x fem!reader

warnings: slightly smutty, flashing tits, jeno & hyuck fwb kinda, teasing, pet names (babe, doll, love), mention of being drunk

note: fun fact, always wanted nipple piercings but ended up with one on my lip instead :D also this is rushed, so pls excuse me :((

mark:

bro is completely shocked at first when you pulled your shirt up, revealing your newly pierced nipples

“how do you like it?” you asked as you smiled at him before noticing that you just flashed your tits in front of your best friend.

“they look nice dude, but you could’ve warned me before flashing me” mark scratched his head, trying to look away from your cleavage but failing miserably.

“actually can i see them again?” he asked carefully trying not to cross any boundaries with you.

you lifted your shirt up once again walking closer to him so he would be able to see the piercings better.

mark started licking his lips the closer you got to him, basically wanting to touch your tits but he kept his hands to himself.

renjun:

renjun was completely out of order when he saw you pulling off your shirt in front of him.

“wtf are you doing y/n?” he screamed at you, gripping your arms as he pulled you towards him.

staring at renjun before starting to laugh badly wiggling outta his grip.

“i got my nipples pierced and wanted to show it to you, don’t be so mad about me pulling my shirt off, it’s not like you never wanted to see my tits” you mumbled the last part, remembering that you heard renjun talk to one of his friends about your tits once.

renjun crossed his arms looking you deeply into the eyes “you got what?” he questioned confused asking himself if he understood you correctly.

“i got my nipples pierced” was all you said before finally pulling your shirt up, revealing your two piercings.

he stared at your tits before laughing hysterically loud.

“one is way more down than the other one i can’t” he breathed out while laughing leaving you a little sad but you ended up laughing as well

jeno:

"hey what's that under your top?" he asked you pointing at the two indents on your top.

looking down at your clevage you saw the four metal balls of your new piercings smirking at jeno.

"you wanna see?" biting down on your bottom lip, already knowing his answer.

"show me, i wanna see babe" he came closer to you, hands resting on your waist, playing with the hem of your shirt.

slowly dragging your top up, eyes never leaving jeno's until your tits been revealed.

jeno's eyes shot down staring at you, practically licking his lips.

"damn babe, you're looking hot as fuck" he stated eyes still focused on your tits as one hand moved to cup your left tit slightly touching your piercing.

"be careful it still hurts" you playfully slapped his hand away, jeno just laughed a little before saying "thought you liked pain, at least thats what you say when we're fucking"

jaemin:

he looked at you with question marks above his head, knowing something is different.

"you got your nipples pierced? thought you wanted me to come with you when you get them done y/n" jaemin was a little shocked due to the fact that you did it all on your own, because you normally have a low pain tolerance.

you just nodded cheerfully admiring how jaemin looked down at you.

jaemin was worshipping your body, and you loved that feeling of being loved, but he’s only your best friend so nothing will ever happen between the two of you.

but jaemin had other thoughts, he thought about how beautiful you looked and that he wanted to touch you so badly, but the gentleman he is, he kept his fingers to himself.

“you look so pretty with those piercings love” he exclaimed as he gave you a kiss on the cheek, being proud of how beautiful you looked.

haechan:

oh as soon as he saw the metal in your nipples he went wild.

absolutely loved the way your piercings looked, probably drooling right now.

“fuck doll you make me so horny, just look at you” he said as he wiped his corners of his mouth.

“are you okay hyuck?” you laughed out looking at your best friend who’s about to lose his mind.

haechan couldn’t resist anymore and soon both his hands were cupping your tits.

“oh god this is gonna be so good once it’s healed, you have no idea what i’m gonna do to you then” he almost sounded like it was a threat to you but he still kept a little of his charm while saying that.

you knew haechan was a little too horny sometimes, but he never said something like that before, not even when the two of you were fucking while being drunk.

pressing your legs together slightly due to haechan’s touch, moaning quietly.

“i think we should stop here doll, let’s continue this once your tits are all healed up” he grinned as he slapped you on the ass before he walked away

chenle:

chenle didn’t even noticed your piercings at first, only when you pointed it out.

“look what i’ve got lele” you showed him the indents under your hoodie but he looked at you skeptical.

“tits? you’ve always had them or what do you mean” he was obviously confused about what you were talking.

quickly dragging your hoodie over your head, standing in front of him chest naked until he finally noticed it.

“oh you got your nipples pierced, looks good tho” he said sounding a little bored, so you nagged his shoulder to get his attention once again.

“only good? do you know how much pain that was?” being a little pissed at him but you couldn’t keep a small smile away from your face.

“well, if it hurt that much maybe you shouldn’t have gotten them done then” he walked away sassy throwing his hands in the air.

jisung:

jisung was completely out of order, not knowing where to keep his hands, eyes or his head when you pulled your shirt up.

“ji, what are you looking at? my tits are here” you wheezed as he was looking at the ceiling.

“i don’t wanna be rude and stare so i’m just looking up” he scratched his neck finally eying you.

mouth hanging wide open, visible drops of sweat forming on his face, eyes open and blinking fast.

“cat caught your tongue?” you teased him stepping closer to jisung as you took his hands.

“y-you look shitty, i m-mean pretty” he stuttered, face palming himself after what he just let out.

“oh ji, you’re so cute” you giggled before grabbing your shirt and putting it back on.

[littlebabyyd0ll]

thinking about being felix’s incompetent little girlfriend 😩 tw: bruises and mentions of throwing up. r has long hair.

“‘ve got another bruise.” you mumble heedlessly, barely even thinking about the words that come out of your mouth as you apply lotion (which is probably enough to cover a months rent in a two-bed flat) to your calves. felix, hunched over his textbook with a blue ballpoint pen between his lips, turns swiftly towards you, following the sound of your sweet, airy voice.

he sighs at the pretty image of you, body covered by one of his old t-shirts, practically eating you whole, hair falling over your shoulders and delicately manicured fingers massaging into your supple skin. he’s sure that his eyes go soft, practically heart-shaped, watching you in your own little world. he can see the constellation of bruises that you’ve already accumulated, seemingly from nowhere. pulling the pen from between his lips, he chucks it down onto his desk and rises from his swivel chair.

it’s then that you look up at him, not a thought behind your pretty eyes. his heart flutters at the way your pupils double in size, the way your lips tilt upwards at the mere presence of him. he fills your space without hesitation, so big and full of life, so warm, so handsome. your smile widens as he sits down next to you, the depth of the shift of his mattress. bright brown eyes linger upon your legs, taking in the dark purple discolouration. felix hums, looking back at you.

“does it hurt?” he asks, reaching out towards you. his skin is warm and soft, hands of little manual labour but so much comfort and love.

you know this game, have played it a thousand times. a dramatic sigh falls from your glossed lips, pretty pout settling mere seconds afterwards. “terribly.”

“need to be more careful.” he says lowly, fingertips tracing the anklet with his initials on, a present you received during your 18th birthday in paris. the gold shimmers as he moves, raising your leg with a light yet dominant touch. felix leans down, dark strands of hair falling over his eyebrow piercing, and his lips kiss a trail upwards. he kisses you in a manner so achingly sweet, a way so felix, until he reaches the afflicted area. the kiss that he leaves there is bigger. “my little airhead, hm?”

or when you’re all drunk and sloppy :( he’s just watching you so carefully, so effortlessly your knight in shining armour. felix doesn’t stop you from downing your jägers, doesn’t stop you from sipping his stella, but his hand doesn’t leave your side the whole night, doesn’t let you out of his sight, even when you’re hunched over a group of bushes, chundering your guts up on the walk back to your accommodation.

those loving hands rub soothingly up and down your back, shushing your heaves. “that’s it. good girl, get it all out.” he doesn’t care for the violent smell, or the way that it splashes against his trainers. just cares about helping you, getting you tip-top again. his other hand gathers your hair, holding it up and away from your face.

“she’s so fucked.” arabella, one of your friends from back at your all-girls private school slurs on her words, bumping into felix’s side. he resists the urge to roll his eyes — as if she wasn’t the one shoving shots down your throat. “just give her some fucking water or something. i want to get back.”

“no one’s stopping you.” he says, motioning with his head, pointing to the way back to college towards farleigh, subliminally trying to tell him to take the others and leave the two of you to yourselves. you, of course, miss this interaction, too busy with your tear streaked cheeks and spit coated lips. your little hand reaches back blindly for him, grasping onto his green polo. his hand resumes its gentle strokes.

farleigh groans behind the butt of his cigarette, dragging your friend away and motioning for the rest of your posse to come along.

“felix.” you sob pathetically, feeling far more than sorry for yourself. his poor baby, he thinks, doing so little to take care of yourself. your heaving stops for a moment and you fall to your knees. felix is quick to react, scooping you up from underneath your armpits and pulling you away from the pile of your own sick.

“i’m here, bambi. you’re alright.” he murmurs as you shove your head into his shoulder, undoubtedly staining his top. his hands still never once leave you, even as he gives you time to regulate your breathing and choked cries, pushes your hair back time and time again.

even then, nostrils stinging with the sour smell and shoulder dead from your limp limbs, he can’t help but smile. he smiles at the knowledge that only he gets you like this, all reliant and incompetent, so desperate for him and his, in your eyes, omnipotence.

“‘m never drinking again.”

“that’s not true.”

you whine, pushing your face further into his neck. “it’s not true.”

yeah, he thinks, he’s pretty lucky with his sweet, incompetent girl.

[buoyant-breeze]

I think u were sent by the heavens BECAUSE THE HICKEYS/NECK KISSES ONE WAS TOP TIER?? (mwah 😩👌) I WAS PRACTICALLY DYING WHILE READING THEM, CAN U PLEASE DO KAZUHA AND SCARAMOUCHE I WOULD LITTERALLY BUILD A SHRINE FOR YOU 🧎🧎

part one (albedo, thoma, xiao)

authors note ⊱ sorry this took me so long ive had this in my drafts for months (crying)

characters ⊱ kazuha, scaramouche

warnings ⊱ completely safe! enjoy!

rating ⊱ themes of smut, mdni / view discretion advised

kazuha

he thinks neck kisses are sweet, romantic, intimate; all three being things he enjoys. and it also leaves him a little heated, itching with desire

the moment your mouth is over his throat he’s letting out an airy giggle, finding your lips ticklish. he always eagerly tilts his chin up, offering his neck over like it’s nothing, even though it truly isn’t; it’s a very vulnerable place, but perhaps that is why he gives it so easily

but it isn’t long before he gets a little noisy, breathy sighs turning into soft “ah”s, shivering with every wet noise, shaking with every suck

he sometimes bites his lip, but his entire face will always flush a rosy red

and this is certainly one way to get him riled up, but he isn’t really much of a pillow princess unless you order him to be

the moment you start displaying actions like this, he’s seeking you out, too, eager for more, wanting to touch

he’ll brush hair behind your face, cradle your head as you sink your teeth and he gasps, or whine as you press a leg between his thighs

but the best part is when he can find an opening to do the same, bringing one of your arms to his mouth, kissing sensually at your wrist, turning the tables until it’s your throat against his lips

he loves, loves, loves being marked, and is not embarrassed about them

he will be a little shy and blush, but he’s not ashamed of them at all. if anything, he looks a little pleased someone noticed, given he’s pretty proud of you and your relationship with him

scaramouche

the thing about scaramouche + neck kisses is that usually it = biting

and he’s the one biting you most of the time, if you allow it

don’t get it all wrong; it can just as easily be affectionate as it can be erotic. he has a habit of nipping idly at your fingertips and then sucking them, staring up at you through strands of soft hair and pretty lashes, eyes sometimes set into a piercing glare

it’s almost like a ‘stimming’ action: he wants to sink his teeth into your shoulder just to feel it, or to bite up the length of your throat just to fixate on the suction of your skin in his mouth or the marks that he can taste along his tongue; memorizing how it feels, almost desperate

neck kisses on their own, towards him, though: well, he wants to be bitten back

you have to be rough with him. this isn’t some pretty little fairytale where you can make him melt with just an affectionate peck to the throat. no, no. it has to be sensual. you have to work for it.

if you want to leave him gasping and shuddering into you, grasping for you with his fingernails, leaving scratches along your arms, then you have to kiss and suck and bite like he’s your last meal, like you’re trying to seduce him, or else all you’re getting is a blank face and a shrug; he doesn’t respond otherwise

he’s not the type that just will get kissed and then, boom, you have him melting over your lap. 

it needs a little more: he needs the depth of the interaction, he needs teeth and he needs tongue, he needs you to suck his skin like you mean it, like you’re trying to eat him alive, in a way that is nearly romantic, and painfully intimate, but in a way that hurts (which is what he wants)

talk dirty to him, rough by his ear, and it adds onto it

mouth at his collarbone with the intensity of someone eating him out, and he’s shaking; dig into his throat, and he’s rocking his hips into yours with a grunted growl between his teeth

and if you’re not leaving hickeys, what’s the point? he wants you to go all in or don’t go for it at all

no one really notices when he has any, since he wears sleeveless turtlenecks, which covers the general hotspots; if anyone did notice, though, he gets unexpectedly angry and grumpy and embarrassed, all at once

[stardustloserdoll]

HIHIHI

I JUST WNATED TO ASK AND SEE IF YOU COULD MAKE A LONG? TOM KAULITZ SMUT?

okay so i have an idea,

if tom gets really really jealous of the f!readers relationship with her old friend she sees somewhere (you pick) and they like kiss eachothers cheeks and tom gets really jealous and like when they get home its like angry sex but VERYYYYY ANGRY and tom is dominant and the reader is like overstimulated and other stuff😭😭

HIII!! YESSSS, i'm sorry if i make my smuts too short guys i promise i'll improve 😩

mine

female reader

“y/n?” i stopped talking with tom and saw my old friend alex coming up to us. "alex? hey! how are you!" i smiled, standing up from the table, embracing him. "it's been so long." i laughed as i pulled away, as we both placed a kiss on each others cheeks. "i know, how have you been!" as we both continued talking i felt an arm wrap around me pulling me closely. "hey babe who's this."

"oh tom! this is my friend alex, we go way back." tom stepped forward, his grip strong on my waist. "tom, i'm her boyfriend." he responded going to shake his hand. "hey nice to meet you." alex responded shaking toms hand.

"i think y/n and i should be going." tom smiled pulling me by my waist "oh.. okay sorry alex. it was nice seeing you, bye!" i yelled as tom pulled me away walking fast. "what was that about tom!" i whispered, trying to pull myself from his tight grip. "you think i didn't see you kissing his cheek y/n." tom said, his jaw clenched as he took out the keys. "it was nothing like that tom!" he held onto my arm and looked at me with a serious look on his face. "wait till we get home y/n."

"come on babe you can take it." tom smirked, grabbing my hips, as he pounded into me. tom looked down between our joined bodies, licking his lips at the sight of me making a mess on his cock.

“think alex can fuck you this good? hm?,” he snarles, snapping his hips into me, grabbing my face to look up at him. i shook my head "say it." i whimpered trying to force out words "n-no only you tom." "only i fuck you this good, fuck. you're mine." my mouth falls open as i feel my cunt squeeing around him. “fuckk.. gonna cum again schatz?” tom groaned out, i nodded desperately, “tom, please..fuck. i’m so close!”

tom scoffs and rolls his eyes, his hands squeezing my waist, as he snapped his hips harder into me, sending me over the edge. my body trembling as i came, "tom no more.." he laughed, “say you're mine y/n.” he growled halting his movement. "m' yours tom.." i cried out, throwing my head back. "good girl."

with a swift roll of his hips, quickened his pace, hitting me in all the right spots. a little smirk on his lips as his tongue stuck out slightly, playing with his piercing. my body feeling more limp as he pounded into me. “making such a mess." tom laughed as he leaned down to kiss my neck. "gonna cum tom.." i dug my nails into his back "come for me baby, you can do it." feeling my orgasm wash over me for another time, small whimpers coming out of his mouth.

tom releasing soon after, his cum shooting in me as he snapped his hips one final time, stopping his movements. his body falling on top of me as he kept his dick inside of me, our chests raising and falling rapidly. as tom pulled away he pulled out, running his fingers through my hair. "you did so good" tom whispered as placed a kiss on my forehead.

[theplumsoldier]

feels like home

summary: you🥺love🥺each other🥺🥺😩

warnings: vulgar language, smut, breeding kink, angst, fluff (please let me know if im missing anything!!)

a/n: i love him omg hes so dad shaped

Starting out, it was a brewing crush, a sparkle between you and Joel on the job. Getting to know one another, it quickly became playful. Quirky remarks, cocky comments; that kind of thing. You began noticing your heart rate increase rapidly whenever he would speak, his voice suddenly sounding sweet and soothing, the playful shoves became lingering touches.

It was innocent, a subconscious pleasure that made the days do by. It was nice. Until it wasn't. When you realized the feelings they were way too strong for you to comprehend.

The fluttering butterflies no longer tickled, they scraped against your stomach, trying to claw their way out. Your heart rate felt alarmingly fast when in his company, which you quickly found was not good when working. It made you flinch, mistaking the faint clicks of an infected with that of your own pulse.

It resulted in a close call and a fitting rebuke from Joel, calling you out on your actions, or lack thereof.

Joel's harsh words got to you, never having heard him raise his tone at you unless it was call your name. His anger was evident but it was the disappointment seeping through his venom-laced tone that hit you like a brick wall.

Little did you know he did not react like that because of your rookie moves, nor was it because of the fact that you were putting everybody else's lives on the line while being so careless on the job.

No, it was a whole other thing, a feeling that wasn't too far from the one you were haunted by.

Nonetheless, Joel reprimanding you made you be more careful around him, the pining turning into something of a self-conscious degree.

Joel noticed your shy demeanor after that incident. He figured you would understand overtime, understand his harsh words came from a place of worry, of love. But as time passed, and you only talked to him when on the job, when necessary, there came a point where he found himself eager to confront you. He was having none of it.

It wasn't that he was going to tell you that he reacted the way he did because he was in love with you. He was simply going to check in on you, imply that there was something off with you. He substantiated his own idea by concluding it was best for the group to know whether this mien was going to keep up. That way he wouldn't have to reveal his feelings. Joel knew it was not going to be a pleasant conversation, but he just wanted your giddy self back.

He missed the funny comments, the playful touches. He missed making you smile, seeing you laugh. It was what got him through the day and lately he had found himself constantly thinking about you, dragging the days out to a point where he felt one exceeded the usual count of 24 hours.

It was an excruciating pain, feeling you were reluctant whenever he would enter the room, falling silently and making yourself small.

He looked for the right time, postponing the inevitable, to the point where another incident occurred, sending Joel over the edge.

"What the fuck, Y/N!?" barked he, following you into your room, slamming the door behind him.

"What, Joel!? What is it now?" yelled you in frustration, too beat to take anymore of his bullshit, his glares, any of it.

You justed wanted to clean up and go to sleep. It was all too much.

This time had not been much different from the last. Your train of thought had distracted you, leading to Joel saving you. Again.

It was honestly getting embarrassing at this point.

Joel's tongue wet his lips while he opgivende slumped down, taking a seat. He breathed out, calming himself and stretched his arm over the back of the couch.

"You need to get your head out of your ass before you--" said he as his eyes pierced through the back of your head, watching as you had turned your back to him, doing whatever.

"And you need to get off my back," retaliated you, swinging around and pointedly staring at him.

The way he kept his cool just sitting there on the couch while you were getting fed up struck a nerve.

His tone differed from his exterior, however, a judgemental feel to it.

"What's going on with you, huh? These past few weeks you've been reckless out there! Shit, I've already saved your ass twice this week--"

"Fuck you, Joel!" you interrupted, trying your best not to make it sound like a preschool shouting match. Well, you were the only one yelling, so perhaps that was the wrong parallel to draw. Regardless, you gave him a piece of your mind. "You know, I signed the same fucking waiver as you did! If anything happens to me, you take me out. That's the job. I never asked for you to save me so why you take that upon yourself--that's beyond me!"

Joel shook his head, biting back the grin he knew would bite him in the ass if you heard it. It was ridiculous to him, that you thought he would ever let anything happen to you.

Take you out.

He stood up, taking a step closer to you, his brows furrowed in disbelief. "Of course I'm gonna fuckin' jump in when I see ya danger! Jesus Christ, you don't even realize it's 'cause I love you, do ya?"

Oh.

That took you by surprise.

"Tell me you don't feel the same way," said he, watching as your eyes dropped, certainly thinking about what he had just said. Carefully inspecting every clue your features gave away, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you. He tipped your head, forcing your eyes to meet his. "Y/N?"

He felt himself getting nervous like a school boy revealing his crush, fearing he had fooled himself. He couldn't help but worry you hadn't put much thought into the flirting, that perhaps you were simply playing around.

He tried stepping away, to let himself think, but you quickly latched onto his arm, pulling him even closer than he was before.

"No, I..." hesitated you, trying to figure out the best way to put it. "I realized I do really like you. It's why I've been so... off, I guess. You've constantly been on my mind, and--I've been trying to figure out... what to do about it, I guess."

Your eyes were fixated on his chest, right where his shirt was unbuttoned. Your cheeks red, you felt too self-conscious to look him in the eye, fearing what you might find. It seemed no matter how many times you had fallen in love, it never got easier.

But to your surprise, you felt safe when Joel tilted your head and your eyes met. Reassured.

Shit.

The eyes really were the window to the soul, huh?

"And did you figure it out? What you wanna do about it?"

There was a certain glimpse in his eye as he asked. He had decided what he wanted to do.

Instead of replying, you pulled him into you, pressing your thirsty lips against his. It seemed the prior anger had fueled your hunger, suddenly very desperate to have him even closer.

Luckily, Joel did not mind one bit and immediately wrapped his arms around and cradled the back of your head, holding you like you might slip.

And shit the sweet, sweet taste of him made you think you just might.

His scent wrapped around you like a blanket, making you feel safe again, the feeling somehow always emitting from him, only this time tenfold. It reminded you of the sense one got when stepping into the comfort of their home after a long time away. He felt like home.

God, it felt good to be home.

While one hand rested on the back of your neck, the other began sliding down your side, feeling your curves beneath his rough fingertips.

When he steadied and squeezed your waist softly, you tugged lightly on the strands of his hair.

"Joel," whispered you breathlessly, pulling back but not enough to not still feel his breath on yours. You didn't dare let him move further away, fearing you might lose his warm touch and wake from this fever dream.

Joel hungrily bit for your lip, but you had to catch your breath. His lips were parted, tongue dancing just behind his teeth in anticipation as he muttered your name.

"Want you inside of me."

His eyes locked on yours for a second, like a predator picking out his prey, and a second later, he was all over you.

Crashing his lips against yours, he was suddenly both pulling and shoving you, a clumsy waltz in the ecstasy ballroom, determined to take you to bed and claim you as his.

Stumbling onto your bed, you were pinned to the mattress and the sheets delved around you, hugging your sides with Joel's body the perfect cover.

You wrapped your legs around him, urging him to rub his restrained cock against your clothed crotch, moaning at the feeling. Like a goddamn rock.

While making out, he continued the motion and when he finally let go of your wrists, you did not hesitate to slide your hands under his shirt, feeling his warm skin.

"Been thinking 'bout this. Can't ever stop myself from imagining how pretty you'd look, squirmin' on my fingers. Those sweet, sweet eyes begging me to tear into you, make you come around my cock."

You whined at his words.

You hadn't realized you hadn't given his pillow talk much thought. Prior expectations had only let you down, becoming disappointed in men when they didn't live of to the version of the person you had made them out to be in your head. You knew your kinks, and wanted them played out in reality and only then you realized what a match Joel evidently was.

Clawing at his shirt, he helped you pull it over his head as you began undoing his belt.

He stopped you, chuckling at your eagerness although he could barely hold himself together.

Instead he pulled up your shirt, kissing down your stomach and unbuttoned your pants.

"Easy, baby," muttered he. "Gonna make you feel real good."

Upon having removed your clothes, Joel continued his path down your stomach, kissing right under your bellybutton, building up a whole lot of tension inside your core as he continued down.

You felt his hot breath against your pussy, finally looking down and only then did he dive in and you gasped at his greedy tongue. He was hungry and he was not holding back.

His tongue licked a long wet stripe through your glistening folds, his nose and stubble tickling your clit. His hands held you down when you arched into his mouth and you cried his name, needy for his touch.

A chuckle vibrated from his mouth and he teased your entrance with a finger, taking you off guard when he suddenly shoved two in.

"Fff-uck!" You moaned and squirmed, completely spellbound as you felt your self tense up at the slow but consistent pace he had sat.

Considering you had indeed imagined having sex with Joel, you were surprised to find him so eager to take care of you. His now all around careful touch so contradicting to what characterized him on the job. Of course, he had never been rough with you and although you were getting more and more excited to have him fill you, you felt ecstatic experiencing him like this, treating you like delicate Chinese porcelain. You felt loved. An unusual feeling, but a welcome one.

While his fingers worked you up, he spared a look your way, finding you crushing your head into the mattress, eyes squeezed shut. The content look on his face was replaced with a focused one as he sucked your pulsating clit.

The pleads you emitted were far from coherent, only the choked cry giving you away.

"Shit, doll, don't think I'm gonna fit in this lil' pussy. Just two fingers making you all dumb for me," he chuckled, basking in the pleasure he gave you, each moan a stroke to his ego. He was set on ruining every single man for you.

Despite his taunt, he shoved a third finger inside your cunt, the only resistance being your tight walls.

Curling his fingers he stretched you to a point where he was comfortable enough with replacing them with his cock. His balls were beginning to get sore at the lack of breathing room.

The grip you had managed on his locks loosened when you felt him pull away, making you stutter as you opened your eyes again. It took some adjustment before the dots vanished and the figurative stars blinding you were replaced with the sight of his glory.

A broadshouldered, tanned naked hunk of glory. Sweat glistened on his chest, small beads decorated his hairline and his freed cock stood to attention. You hadn't noticed you were gaping at him until your mouth ran dry.

Gulping at his size, you gave him a dazed look that made his cock twitch against his stomach.

Before you had the chance to say anything - whether it be a horny comment or a total subjection to the God towering you - Joel grabbed you by your legs, pulling you down so that he was positioned directly above your entrance.

Although your juices provided more than enough lubrication, you noticed his cock had done the same, a small bead having escaped his slit. A sudden urge to taste him, you quickly reached down to swipe your thumb across his mushroom head, indulging in the salty taste.

The move made Joel groan although you could've sworn it was a whimper in disguise, a certain lovesick gleam in his brown eyes.

Crushing a kiss to your lips, he aligned himself at your entrance. As he inched in, Joel's forehead pressed against yours, his eyes focused on every change in your expression.

Your brows were knitted together in concentration, lips parted in a gasp and doe eyes glistened up at him through a watery lense.

Sliding in with easy, Joel stilled, quieting your moan with an open-mouthed kiss. He felt his cock stretch you, your walls hugging him tightly making him think you were made for him.

Your nails scratched against his back as he moved and you let out a cry, throwing your head back. It was both too much and not enough. Insatiable.

"Taking me so good, darlin'. Not gonna last long in your lil' cunt."

Joel slid a hand between your bodies, thumb suddenly drawing sloppy but aggressive circles on your clit. When he had first found a rhythm his hips did not stutter.

The mix of wet slapping sounds and chopped moans composing your lovestory. With his snapping hips and relentless work on your bundle of nerves, you felt yourself flutter against him, nails digging into his ass as he fucked you through orgasm.

Disjointed grunts echoed in his chest, revelling as your cunt squeezed his cock, pushing him out each time only to let him ram right back in.

Head nuzzled in your neck, kissing, nibbling and biting, he moved only to haul your legs over his shoulder. To enforce the deep feeling, he grasped your hand and put it just below your belly, pressing down.

"Ya feel that, doll? Rippin' you right open--fuck! Wan' me t'fill you up, uh?"

He tore you right apart, his cock ramming into you so hard you just knew you would be sore. But it didn't matter. He was worth it. This was worth it.

A slap to your cheek suddenly pulled you from cloud nine, his coarse hand roughly grasping you by the jaw.

"Tell me," murmured he, his jaw clenched, eyes locked on yours.

"Y-yes, Joel! Please, please!" Melting in his grip, you eagerly nodded, your words disjointed by your cries from feeling him so deep. "Need your cum, ba--"

Your plea was cut off by a muffled scream as all and any kindness left him, and he sped up for a brutal pace. Biting his shoulder, his hips snapped a few more times until he stilled deep inside you.

You tugged him close to you as pumps coated your walls, hot streams already oozing out. Panting, Joel sloppily fucked his come into you, wet kisses smudging across your collarbone. As you felt yourself come down, you reached for his face and kissed him breathless.

Finally he slumped off of you, falling into the place beside you, making you realize the brutal cramp in your legs from the position. Stretching your leg in the air, pulling your toes with your fingers you couldn't help but laugh when Joel noticed your situation.

"M'sorry," Joel chuckled awkwardly, the back of his hand running across his sweaty forehead.

You just shook your head, schooching closer to him to wrap your leg over his and you smiled lovingly up at him, adoring him.

"Don't worry, didn't even realize 'till you pulled out."

He wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him, two sweaty bodies melting into one.

"Well shit, next time I ain't gon' be pullin' out then. Gonna fall asleep inside ya."

Nibbling his earlobe, you hummed and closed your eyes with giddy smile. "As long as you fuck me into the morning you can do whatever ya want."

[minnillea]

ON THIN ICE (Keegan P. Russ X Reader)

I’m saddened by the lack of Keegan content, so I’m doing this even tho I’ve never written anything like this before.😩 Might write more later or whatever. English is not my first language + not really proofread, so easy there. (Roughly 4k words)

CW: MDNI!, NSFW, dom Keegan, sub fem reader, pure filth, spanking, choking, degradation, praise if you squint, edging, fingering, bj, raw, tons of pet names, hair tugging, creampie, power dynamics, dubcon, mentions of exhibitionism, rouuughhhhhhh, you really piss him off, and aftercare <3

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .

You followed Keegan through the halls because you were assigned to pair up with him for a mission taking place in a couple of days, and he was going to tell you all the details you needed to know.

You trailed behind him, moving a little faster to keep up with his long strides, before finally speaking. “Don’t tell me you plan on filling out some reports first? I’ll get so bored just watching you do that,” you said with a pout, already frustrated because of how little time for yourself you’ve had in the last couple of weeks.

“What’s that?” he said in a teasing tone without even caring to look back. “I won’t let you out of my sight because you’ll get lost, and it’s gonna be a pain in the ass to find you again. But if you really need to keep yourself busy, I can make you run laps in the freezing cold,” he replied in a harsh, cold tone as he halted beside a door before turning, his piercing eyes staring down directly at you.

You grimaced as you avoided his gaze. “No, I’m good, sir.”

You couldn't help but think about how the black war paint around his eyes made them stand out even more and how his stare made you feel weak in the knees.

“That's what I thought,” earning a soft chuckle from him, he opened the door and signaled with his hand for you to step in. “And yeah... there’s gonna be a lot of stuff to fill in, so you better behave, kid,” he said in his husky voice, waiting for you to move.

You eyed him up and down after his comment, with your lips slightly parted in surprise before you regained your composure and stepped in. “Alright, Sarge,” you said in an unenthusiastic tone, trying to keep your mind out of the gutter.

He gave you a sultry look as his eyes ran over your body before rolling his eyes with a sigh as he followed behind you. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick,” he sat down and pulled out some papers, starting to type on a computer.

You looked around for a bit before sitting on a nearby office chair and swiveling around.

His icy eyes darted towards you for a second before he kept working. (God, this is torture…)

“What are you, like… 10 years old?” he said, shaking his head slightly while typing.

You decided to ignore him as you took a paper ball from a nearby desk and started playing with it until you thought it would be a good idea to throw it at him. Keegan was a very reserved individual, so you loved to try and get reactions out of him. You craved his attention in a way.

Keegan swatted the ball away with a hand as he looked down at some files.

“Don’t you dare drop that ball again, or else there’ll be consequences,” he said in an intimidating low tone as he sent you a sharp glare before typing in the rest of the data.

You tensed up under his gaze, but your stupidity had no limits today, and you looked down at the ball on the floor and bent over to pick it up in a teasing way as you turned your head to look at him discreetly.

“You are walking on thin ice, darling, don’t test me,” he sneered sharply as he glowered at you, crossing his arms. Keegan was in no mood for any games and your silly antics today.

You weren’t sure if you should keep pushing him, but you did anyway. You proceeded to throw the ball on his desk. “Oops, it slipped,” you said in a mocking way, finally making him snap.

“Ohh, so that's how is it going to be?” He said in a stern but playful tone as he cocked a brow. “I’ve had it with you. Come over here, quick.”

You cautiously walked and stopped in front of the desk. He stood up quickly and stared you down, towering over your small frame as a wave of anxiety hit you. (Oh, I guess I really did strike a nerve this time.)

“What did I tell you?” He leaned against the desk with his arms folded.

“Uh, not to throw the ball again?” You said softly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

“And what did you just do?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as his cold eyes remained fixated on you.

You felt your cheeks burn at how close he was but still attempted to pathetically save face.

“But it slipped….”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” His eyes trailed all over your body before he broke the silence.

“Kneel.”

Keegan’s tone got serious all of a sudden, as he looked down your body slowly before his eyes locked with yours.

“Now, don’t make me say it again.”

You looked at him with big eyes, your lips parting slightly in surprise before dropping on your knees immediately.

He chuckled deeply at the sight. “You really need to know your place…you know what to do next; make good use of that mouth of yours”.

You couldn’t believe what just came out of his mouth as you quickly felt your core ache and pressed your thighs together. You fidgeted with his belt shyly before throwing it to the side and looking at him coyly. You exhaled slowly as you let his length spring out.

“I'm waiting,” he said, tilting his head again with a husky voice as his hands went to his sides, gripping the edges of the desk as he leaned on it while still maintaining eye contact with you. He looked down at you in a condescending way.

You wrapped a hand around his base as your other hand held onto his thigh. You slowly licked the tip before starting to suck it and let your tongue roam around it, too embarrassed to keep your eyes open. He sighed, feeling the wetness of your lips.

“Eyes on me, princess,” he commanded as he moved a hand behind your head to tug at your hair slightly.

You let out a little whine and locked eyes with him as he pushed your head into him, making you feel overwhelmed.

“Aww what’s wrong? Don’t tell me you wanna back out already?” he said in a fake kind tone.

You gagged slightly for a bit before trying to accommodate him better as he exhaled softly, still holding onto your hair firmly. You swirled your tongue around him as you dug your nails into his thigh, making him hiss softly. You looked right at him as you started bobbing your head up and down, trying to take in as much as you could.

“Damn, who would’ve thought you were like this?” He said with heavy lids, watching as tears formed in your pretty eyes. He then pushed you further again, tearing more muffled whines out of you.

“I’m not going easy on you.” He smirked under his mask as his other hand wrapped around your neck with a tight squeeze, making you groan.

“I need to show you who’s in charge here. I could make you stay like this the entire day, and anyone could just walk in at any moment to see how much of a slut you are.” He spoke in a threatening tone as he kept fucking your face relentlessly.

Your eyes widened as you let out a muffled gasp.

“Now don’t give me that look; you brought this upon yourself after all. I’ve been too lenient with you. Fuck…” Keegan let out a low groan, and let himself get lost for a moment, before pulling himself together. He squeezed your throat tighter, feeling himself in it and making you yelp as you tapped on his thigh, signaling to him that you needed to breathe.

“Oh, you need some air sweet thing?” Keegan let you have barely any time to breathe, before tightening his grip on your hair and ramming you into him again, earning a moan from you.

“No one said you were getting it easy on any of this, princess.”

You kept your watery eyes locked on him as his breathing became heavier.

Eventually, as little whines filled up the room he chuckled and patted your head before letting your neck go. “You better think twice before defying my orders, understood?” he said in a softer but stern tone.

You pulled back with a pop, gasping for air, before replying softly. “Yes, sir.”

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek.

“Good girl.” Keegan smirked at you as he pulled you in again, his grip on your hair still there but a little looser this time.

He kept you like this for a while as you did your best to please him, tears rolling down your cheeks as your hand pumped what couldn’t fit.

You noticed his breathing getting more elaborated as your throat squeezed him tightly and you pressed your tongue flat, below his length. Tightening your grip around his base, you looked up at him as he threw his head back with a breathy grunt.

“Just like that…” he groaned, gritting his teeth before looking back at you and painting your throat white.

Your eyes widened as you swallowed most of it, with only a little stream making its way down the corner of your mouth. “Mmm…” you hungrily cleaned him off with your tongue and pulled back to rub your thumb over the remains dripping off your face before sucking it lewdly while your eyes met his.

“Careful with your actions, love,” he warned, taking a hold of your face and looking down at you before speaking again shortly. “Such a naughty little thing...”he grinned under his mask, swiping your tears away with a gloved thumb before fixing himself up and putting some documents away.

You slowly stood up as he was facing away before you heard his voice again.

“Did I say you could stand up, doll?” he said mockingly as he rummaged through papers and closed the file cabinet.

You froze in place not knowing what to say.

He chuckled as he turned his head to look back at you. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, kid; you’ve been having your way for weeks now and seriously think you’ll get away that easily?”

“Am I still in trouble?” You asked meekly.

“You’re goddamn right about that, you are.” Keegan spoke in a firm tone as he saw the look of nervousness and excitement in your face.

“Alright, come on. Follow me.” He gestured with his hand for you to come before turning around and walking away, leaving you with little choice. He had orders for you, and you better follow them.

You followed him, feeling all kinds of emotions as your thoughts raced.

Keegan walked out of the room, going down some stairs and walking through some corridors.

He held a door open with a heartless expression as you stepped in, and then he followed, slamming it shut.

He saw you taking a moment to look around the small, dimly lit room before his hoarse voice caught your attention.

“We don’t have much time. So, I advise you not to piss me off further, because you don’t wanna know what’ll happen then. Now come here and bend over, princess” he patted the desk, gesturing for you to come over, as he spoke in a cold tone while staring at you dead in the eye, both of his hands flat on the desk as he leaned forward over it.

You looked around nervously before bending over the cold metal desk he was putting his weight on.

“Attagirl...” Keegan smirked as he walked behind you, the sound of his shoes tapping echoing through the silent room.

He kept his gaze fixed on you as he placed both of his hands on your waist, holding you still.

You turned your head back, to look at him with big round eyes.

He rubbed his thumbs on your hips, and smirked.

“You really pushed it this time,” he sighed, speaking in a low whisper.

He suddenly pulled your pants down in a swift motion before applying more pressure, so you’d stay in that position. He pulled his belt out with a rattle, folding it in half and gripping it tightly before he spoke in a more serious tone once again.

“This is going to hurt.”

You yelped softly as you felt the chilly air hit your hind, your body tensing up as you were still looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Ah ah ah, eyes up front, gorgeous. There’s no turning back now.” One of his hands snaked up your back to hold onto your neck and push your face down against the cold metal table firmly.

You let out a little whine in anticipation as you felt arousal yet fear for what was about to happen.

Keegan smirked at you, knowing that you wouldn’t enjoy what was about to come to you, as he finally struck you with his belt, making you gasp. The sound of the belt hitting you filled the room as you flinched.

“You asked for it, princess.”

Keegan hit you once again, and again, not planning to stop anytime soon.

You whined and squirmed under him as Keegan kept striking you with the belt and smirked at you once again.

“Keep making more noises like that, and it won’t stop.”

He gave you another hit with the belt, which was stronger than the others.

You moaned loudly as your eyes shut tightly. “Hmm!”

“Asking for more?” He spoke in a rather cruel tone with a raised brow.

Another hit with the belt was given to you, making you tremble and bite your lip.

“Hah! I’m s-sorry Sergeant! I won’t do it again!” You wailed out.

“Don't you dare lie to me. I know your games, and you'll do it again unless I teach you a lesson,” he said with venom-laced words. Keegan squeezed your throat tighter as he hit your ass again making you feel the stinging pain every time before it was replaced by a warm feeling. He made sure not to follow a pattern at all to keep you wondering when he was striking you again and for how long.

Your eyes welled up with tears as your knuckles turned white from how hard you were clenching your fists, and you whimpered pathetically before feeling the pool of arousal below you grow larger. How your breasts were getting squished against the desk didn’t help your situation at all, so you resorted to pressing your thighs together to alleviate the aching need you felt.

He took notice of what you did and harshly kicked your legs apart with his.

“You are getting off of this? Look at you, all hot and bothered like a bitch in heat.” he spat as he shook his head slightly with a smirk.

He then paused for a few seconds longer than usual, as you could think it was over.

Keegan caressed your red ass softly, admiring the markings on it and making you shriver.

But he then hit you again, as he chuckled while you writhed before speaking in a dark tone.

“You’re gonna feel this until you remember what happens if you misbehave.”

After a couple of agonizing strikes his deep voice drew your attention.

“Get comfortable…” he whispered, his breath getting hotter as he gave you a smug look. He turned you around, so your back was against the table and restrained your hands with the belt. He then leaned closer over you, in between your spread legs.

“Mmm?!” You looked at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks as he briskly yanked off his glove and stuffed it in your mouth to shush you.

“Don’t tell me you enjoy this.” He suspired, holding onto your waist with a gloved hand as the other one pushed your soaked underwear to the side and collected some of the overflowing slick. “What am I going to do with you?” He teased as he pushed two long fingers into your tight cunt, making you moan in pleasure.

His eyes narrowed, studying your expression as he moved his hand, curling his fingers upwards and rubbing his thumb on your clit slowly.

You moaned and squirmed, welcoming his touch as he added another finger and pumped slowly in and out of you. “You are such a troublemaker you know that?” He pressed on your swollen clit as his eyes slowly trailed all over your body.

He kept you like this until he realized you were about to cum, making him pull out immediately as you whined frustrated.

“Aww, you are so naive, doll.” Keegan spoke in a cruel tone as he tilted his head, seeing your frustration and excitement displayed on your pretty face.

You let out a muffled whine as you pleaded, afraid of him leaving you like this.

“What was that? I can’t understand you, sweetie. What are you saying?” He spoke in a condescending tone before briefly lifting his mask and licking your arousal off his fingers with a soft groan.

You kept whining and squirming with your restrained hands, desperate for him as a result of his teasing.

He chuckled before taking the glove out of your mouth. “Speak.” He demanded dryly as he looked down at you coldly.

“Please s-sir let me cum..” you whispered as you panted.

“Sorry, but you’re at my mercy now…” he said in a firm, raspy voice as he slowly graced your sensitive clit with his thumb, causing you to let a mewl out, before he gagged you with the glove once again.

He kept tantalizing you for a while with devilish eyes as you whined and pleaded in frustration. Leaving you at the edge over and over again, he wouldn’t let you have it. Suddenly, some knocking made your eyes dart to the door.

Keegan’s eyes lit up with mischief as he quickly pulled his cock out before aligning himself with you and sliding his tip between your folds.

“Shh shh...” he said in a quick whisper as he held onto your waist with his free hand, not caring about the situation at all.

You went completely silent as your lips parted in surprise and your eyes locked on his.

“Uh, is everything okay in there?”a voice came from the door.

“Just some discipline, nothing you need to worry about.” Keegan replied harshly before he abruptly pushed himself into you, making you let a choked moan out.

“Now, unless you want to see what’s going on in here for yourself. I’d recommend for you to walk off.” He said in a threatening tone as he pulled his mask up slightly, revealing some stubble and catching your attention. He proceeded to bite on your neck softly while his other hand made its way below your shirt and rubbed circles on your stomach before dragging it up and meeting your breasts.

“Alright, chill man.” The man behind the door left feeling amused yet confused at what he just heard.

Keegan smirked as he took the wet glove out of your mouth, and then looked at you in the eye.

“I see you are quite loud...” He said teasingly, leaning into you with a breathy grunt as he gave your breast a soft squeeze.

You moaned and arched your back in pleasure as you felt him stretch you.

He felt like he had no room to move at all as he toyed with your hard nipples.

“Goddamn…” He sighed as he started to slowly pick up the pace and pressed his lips on yours, kissing you passionately as his hands roamed your body.

“You have no clue how much I’ve been wanting to do this…” He then kissed you again, harder and deeper than before, as he caressed your body.

You let him take you as you moaned into him, not being able to think straight anymore as you felt his tip bullying your cervix.

His breathing was getting louder as he kept thrusting into you harshly. The lewd sounds of squelching and slapping accompanied with your sweet moans filled up the room.

You wrapped your legs around his waist tightly as he placed his hands besides your head and started a merciless pace.

You breathed shallowly and rolled your eyes back in ecstasy, feeling him hit all the right spots.

“Fuck…I love the sounds you make.” He said with a soft groan, stretching your gummy walls as you melted under him.

“Oh m-my hah! Mhmmm! Ahh! Pleaseeee-” You mumbled incoherences as he looked at you with those beautiful eyes of his, the black smudge around them only making his gaze more intoxicating.

“You are taking me so well, darling.” He said exhaling softly before kissing your lips down to your jaw and neck.

Keegan’s brows furrowed in pure pleasure as heat coursed through his body and he sucked on your neck hungrily.

You were reduced to a whimpering and quivering mess as he roughly moved against your little body, but you loved every second of it.

He continued ravaging you as one of his hands made its way to pinch and rub on your clit, making you wail. You felt like you were about to snap again as your walls tightened even more around him.

“You got quite the grip in there huh?” He chuckled before clenching his jaw at the feeling of you squeezing him tightly. His thrusts were getting sloppier as he felt his high near.

You kept your gaze on him with glossy eyes as a symphony of moans and whimpers left your lips, and you came trembling under him, pushing him over the edge and making him grunt deeply as thick strings of cum spurted inside you.

“Fuck….” He said breathily as he rode his high with a couple of thrusts before letting himself collapse on top of you, making sure to put most of his weight on his hands. He nuzzled his face against your neck before planting a kiss on your forehead and levering himself over your body to look at you with calm eyes.

You panted and quivered, feeling so full of him as you took a look into those eyes that had you captured.

He pulled himself back and out of you, making you feel empty and needy as you whimpered softly.

“Look at you….” He said in a husky voice as he admired the mess he’s made of you, leaning in with his hands gripping the edges of the desk.

He pushed the overflowing cum back in with his fingers and put your panties back in place before freeing your hands. He turned with his back facing you to look around as he fixed himself up while you tried to sit up in your sore ass.

He saw you move slightly in the corner of his eye, so he picked up your pants from the floor and came over to take you in his arms. You were quick to wrap your legs and arms around him.

“Hey, lay down for a bit, sweetheart. Are you okay?” He asked in a caring tone as he ran a hand through your hair as the other one patted your back. Your pants were hanging around his arm as he set them down on the table.

You were catching your breath but giggled with a nod as you clung onto him.

Keegan smiled as he held you close, his chest rising and falling as you breathed in his scent. His breathing relaxed you as you nuzzled your face against his neck.

“You are adorable.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he sat down mindfully on the desk, spreading your folded legs at his sides so your behind didn’t touch anything, and proceeding to litter soft kisses all over the love bites on your neck.

He kept a grip on your waist as a hand came up to caress your cheek, and his lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss. The heat between you two was intense; your bodies pressed together tightly as he kissed you deeply.

Keegan pulled away and held you close to his chest in a warm embrace, his eyes closing as he let out a deep breath.

He let you rest as much as you needed while caressing your hair and rubbing circles on your waist before it was time to leave.

Your eyes locked onto his; he had such a loving gaze.

He pulled his balaclava down after giving you a kiss on the nose.

“Are you gonna behave now?” He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head with a tone as playful as the look he was giving you.

[luvrkay]

Okay so I saw THIS on instagram and now I can’t get Jungkook off my mind. It’s not exactly the same thing but it’s similar

I was not supposed to write for BTS on here😭😭 but Jungkook is just so fucking fine that I couldn’t help myself😩😩

(also he's so boyfriend coded that it makes no fucking sense)

“And you never fucking listen to me!” You scream at Jungkook. Your back is facing him so you miss the way he lets his eyes lazily drag over your figure, taking his pierced lip between his teeth.

He’s just so entranced by you that he doesn’t even realize you’re no longer angrily scrubbing the plate that you once had in your hands, or the fact that your walking over to him, snapping your freshly manicured fingers in front of his face.

“Helloooo! You’re not even listening to me now!” You stomp, arms crossed over your chest, eye’s narrowed.

He doesn’t even bother responding, instead he lets his fingers find the waistband of your shorts and he pulls you flush against his chest, his lips smashing into yours.

“M’sorry jagi. I do listen to you, I promise, it’s just you’re so fucking beautiful that I can’t help but get a little distracted” he mumbles against your lips. He pulls you in for another kiss, this one slower, more passionate.

“Let me make it up to you” you’re nodding against his lips, feeling heat pool in your core as you jump into his arms when he taps the back of your thighs twice. Your legs wrap around his waist as his hands find your ass, squeezing softly as he leads you to the bedroom.

He tosses you on the bed before pulling his shirt above his head and tossing it somewhere in the room. you're eyes rack over his toned chest as Jungkook climbs between your legs, helping you out of your shirt and adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

He groans when he sees your bare tits, kissing you again as his hands find your boobs, nimble fingers flicking against your hard nipples. He slowly kisses his way from your jaw down to your chest, leaving hickey’s in his wake.

He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud as his fingers pinch and twist the other one. He releases your nipple with a pop, before doing the same thing to the other one.

His hands have already pushed your shorts and panties down your legs, letting them drop down onto the floor below. His fingers swiping through your already wet folds, gathering your slick on his fingers and using it to rub slow, teasing circles on your clit.

Your hips grind up involuntarily, desperate for more pressure to your aching clit. “Please” you whine out, fingers tangled in Jungkook’s silky black strands, his tattooed arm pushing your legs apart. You lay back, letting your back hit the sheets below you.

Jungkook uses two fingers to spread your folds, flicking his tongue back and forth against your puffy clit. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your cunt and you grind your hips up against his face. You moan out when you feel two of Jungkook’s fingers prodding at your entrance, before they’re stretching out your gummy walls.

Your back arches off the bed when he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly. Broken sobs fall from your lips as Jungkook curls his fingers, letting them hit your g-spot with each flick of his wrist.

He speeds up the pace, a third finger joining and your toes curl, moaning loudly as your orgasm washes over you. Jungkook continues to pump his fingers in and out of your soaked pussy, tongue still flicking against your clit as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

He gives you a few minutes to catch your breath, stripping himself of his pants and boxers, his long, hard cock slapping against his stomach before he takes it into his hand, stroking himself a couple of times before he kneels between your legs, rubbing his tip between your folds, letting it nudge against your clit.

He pushes the tip in, letting it stretch your out slightly before pulling out, he repeats the process two more times before thrusting in to the hilt with one swift motion.

Your nails claw at his back, eyes shut and mouth slightly ajar as Jungkook slowly rocks his hips, letting his cock drag deliciously against your walls.

“Fuck Koo, feels s’good” you moan out when Jungkook starts to move his hips, grunting deeply as he stares down as his cock disappers inside your cunt, watching the way your pussy swallows him whole.

Jungkook pushes one of your legs up, letting it rest on his shoulder as he fucks you deeper, harder. One of his hands find your clit, rubbing fast circles on the puffy nub as you feel your second orgasm approaching. “Gonna cum with me baby? Wanna feel you squeezin’ me as I fill you up”

You let out a whine at that, clenching tightly around him and he groans, pressing his lips to your neck, kissing one of the many marks he’s left on you.

“Fuck jagi, cum with me” he murmurs against your skin. He shoots his hot seed deep inside you seconds later when he feels you gush around him, walls clenching down even tighter.

Jungkook presses one last kiss to your lips before he slowly pulls out, dropped down on the bed next to you, breathing heavily.

[nocturnest]

Captivating

you keep staring at tangerine and he wants to know why.

author's note: who isn't captivated by this handsome brit who struts as he walks and has the mouth of a sailor?! 😩🤌🏻

Tangerine couldn't help but notice the way your eyes kept drifting in his direction as he sat across the aisle, deep in conversation with Lemon about the seriousness of the mission and who exactly the White Death was. Every time he glanced up, he'd catch you quickly averting his gaze, a faint blush creeping across your cheeks.

He couldn't deny the intrigue he felt - there was something about the way you carried yourself, the way your eyes would linger on him for just a moment too long, that had him curious. Sure, there were plenty of women who had stared at him before. It wasn't anything new, but they had never had such curiosity in their gaze, such longing.

When the chaos erupted over the missing briefcase, Tangerine knew he needed to find a moment to pull you aside and get to the bottom of this peculiar fascination. Especially if there was a chance that he wouldn't be getting off this train alive. As the train rumbled on, he waited patiently for his opportunity, until finally, he spotted you slipping into the bathroom.

Without hesitation, he followed, gently pushing the door open and stepping inside, closing it gently behind him. Your eyes went wide with surprise, your breath catching in your throat. It was one thing to observe this handsome man from afar, hiding behind your book, but up close? You couldn't help but observe the deep blues of his eyes, the way that his collar was open just enough that you could see his chest. His mere presence was sinful.

"H-Hello," you stammered, your fingers gripping the edge of the sink as you attempted to steady yourself. "I-um...I didn't expect you to-"

"Why do you keep looking at me, love?" he asked, his voice low and smooth as he moved closer, effectively trapping you against the wall.

You swallowed hard, your gaze darting everywhere but his face. "I... I don't know what you mean. I haven't been-"

Tangerine reached out, gently tilting your chin up so your eyes met. "Don't play coy with me, darlin'," he murmured, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "I've seen the way you look at me. What is it about me that has you so... captivated?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but there was something else there too - a spark of curiosity, of intrigue, that Tangerine couldn't help but find so endearing.

"I... I'm sorry, I don't mean to stare," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... well, you're so different from anyone I've ever seen. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak, it's all so... intoxicating."

Tangerine felt a slow grin spread across his face. "Intoxicating, eh?" he purred, leaning in closer until your noses were nearly brushing. "And what is it about me that you find so intoxicating, love?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. "I-I... I don't know, really. There's just something about you that draws me in. The way you seem so confident, so sure of yourself. It's... it's captivating."

Tangerine chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. "Well, well, aren't you just full of surprises," he murmured, his fingers trailing along the delicate curve of your neck. "And here I was, thinking I was the only one who was... intrigued."

Your eyes widened, your pulse quickening at his touch. "Y-you were... intrigued by me?"

Tangerine nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "Oh, yes, darlin'. From the moment I saw you starin' at me, I've been dyin' to get you alone like this."

He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "So tell me, love... what is it that you want from me?"

Your breath hitched, your mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. You knew you should be terrified, trapped in this small bathroom with a man you barely knew. But somehow, in the depths of those piercing blue eyes, you found herself utterly captivated, yearning for his touch.

"I... I want to know you," you whispered, your trembling fingers reaching up to caress the side of his face. "All of you."

Tangerine's lips curved into a predatory smile, and in one swift motion, he closed the distance between you both, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that left you breathless.

@kpopgirlbtssvt @little-miss-dilf-lover @sebsbarnes @kiss-me-cill-me @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @j23r23 @spookyspecterino @liukangsgirl @azureseacloud hope you guys enjoy!

[fieryland]

Reader who lets Eren spit in he mouth an all over while he strokes his cock in front of her and heavily degraded her (bitch, slut, whore and all that)😩😵‍💫😵‍💫

Foaming at the mouth rn just thinking about Eren stroking his fat cock in front of you, showing off what you can’t have as you eagerly sit on your knees. They were on fire against the floor, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was Eren and his fingers wrapped tightly around his length. He looked so good like that, sitting proud and tall above you— like he could control everything, and you’d just let him do it, let him take you and do whatever the fuck he wanted, just watching him look down on you like you were some bitch he picked up off the street had drool pooling in your mouth and your tongue slightly sticking out.

He twists his face in amusement “Look at you,” he scoffs lightly, as if to make fun of you along with dangling his pretty cock right in your face. “Look like some fuckin’ whore. You want this dick that bad?” You nod, then again, and again. You keep nodding as he raises his eyebrows at you and angles his tip so that it almost rests on your tongue, then he takes it away in an instant and settles on slapping it against your right cheek a couple times.

“Oh yeah? Show me what you’d do for it.” Eren breathes out after barely containing his laughter at how needy you were for him. In response to his question, you slide closer to him and take one of his balls into your mouth. He accidentally lets you do it— not meaning to let his dominant demeanour fall as his lips part and let out a groan. He can’t let himself fall too deep yet, no, so he grabs you by your hair and yanks you back where you were. “Did I say you could touch me, hm? Tell me.” he says through gritted teeth. You stay silent, knowing the answer, yet you’re too focused on the deep rumble of his voice to properly register the harsh slap he just delivered to your cheek.

“I asked you something, slut.” he spits in your face, landing it right next to your nose as some of it drips onto your lips. You lick it as to take some into your mouth and he just scoffs at your actions. Tightening his grip on your hair, you speak “no, no. you didn’t, ‘ren.” you wail in response, that wailing turning into a sigh of relief as he lets you go. You reposition yourself, watching him pump his thick cock up and down— leaking precum and pausing just to show it off some more.

“That’s what I thought. You’re such a dumb fucking bitch, I’m surprised you got what I was saying.” sinister venom drips from his tongue, a language you were all too familiar with yet found yourself wanting more. “You like when I talk to you like that, huh? You like that shit?” he huffs, slightly leaning down as to look into your glass eyes— pupils blown and wild, staring at the jerking of his cock and nothing else.

Eren places a hand on your jaw and squeezes it. “Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you, or I’ll break your fucking jaw.” you look up at him, a second too late but you still did it with no regrets. His eyes pierced into yours, half lidded with his eyebrows narrowed— he looked heavenly, godly, almost. With a few strands of hair in his face and his moans coming from the stroking of his cock, you spoke.

“mmm yeah- I like it.” after biting your lip, you open wide and nonverbally beg for something to be put inside your mouth. So, he spits on your tongue and grabs the back of your head as to force his cock down your throat. You squeeze your eyes and moan around him at the feeling of being used. He just kept pounding and pounding into your mouth— balls slapping against your chin while he moaned and groaned above you, stretching your throat the same way he’d stretch your little pussy.

“Take it, nasty bitch. Take my fucking cock.”