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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 9 months

Note

WAIT I HAVE A THOUGHT! ok i have two i think it could turn into more but price using his military rank to either a) get someone to back off of sunshine!reader and marissa OR b) sunshine calls him captain during sex OR c) HE USES IT IN BOTH OF THOSE SITUATIONS IN THE SAME FIC 👀👀 …are those weird? idk but if you feel up to it this is a request for you to work your magic on this please and thank you

A/N: uhm, don't look at me nonnie, I got too carried away🫣

Rank me

Summary; As a Captain, Price has an air of authority not everyone does. One day when he returns from base, he finally makes you admit why you find that trait of his particular attractive

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot

Word count; 9.3k

Warnings; smut (18+, no minors please), captain!kink, vaginal fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight edging, d/s themes,

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

You sit opposite John, elbow resting against the armrest, head propped up by your fingers. He's seated in one of the two armchairs on the other side of your coffee table while you're sitting on your couch. A folder rests partly on the armrest of his seat and the unoccupied armchair beside him. A few more maps, although closed, were placed on the table.

You're not nosy with John's work, so the seemingly inconspicuous folders aren't what's gotten your attention. The man reading through them does.

John's elbow relaxes on the armrest while his lower back is curved, sunken into his seat, legs spread with feet planted firmly on the ground.

You'd tried to remind him of his posture, knowing he probably would complain about his back if he sat like that for too long. When you had, those blue eyes had flickered to yours with an appreciative look as he repositioned himself straight. However, he didn't last like that for long before slowly melting downwards again, retaking his 'I have a bad back but won't do anything about it pose'.

Although, as you now watch him working, it isn't a chide resting on your tongue.

John has returned to active duty, the past week being his first one back since he extended his issued downtime by a week after his most recent deployment, the one during late summer. You learned there's a big difference between active duty and deployed, never even coming close to either despite that martial course you took a few years back. The former meant you often were stationed on your home base, able to go back and forth home if you desired, much like ordinary work. The latter entailed 'a little field trip' as John worded it.

Today, John came to your place as soon as he got off from base, much like he'd done a few times during the week.

You didn't fuss about spending less time with him than when he was on leave. Not only was it John's job, but there were no regulations for contacting him, so he called the days you didn't meet. Often, the description of his day was brief, only defined somewhat if anything varied from his typical routine. John was usually more interested in how you were and whether you'd done something interesting. If your day had been equally bland, he enjoyed just listening to whatever was on your mind. Today, however, no phone call replaced his absence.

You and John planned to spend the weekend together at your place, and much like he'd promised, he called you once on his way. But, rather than a simple heads-up, he also informed you he would bring some paperwork, his superiors pushing a last-minute request upon him as he was about to leave. You suspected he was permitted to leave base with the documents through his involvement in the 141, not solely because his response ideally -another word for required- would be reported back tonight.

You've learned a great deal about how John likes to work, even if you've been fortunate to develop your relationship with him in a particularly deployment-free time window of his.

He prefers keeping work and home separate, not wanting the two words to bleed together in favour of your relationship. John explained why when you didn't understand his frustration about bringing some work with him back home during your earlier call.

Deployments cut into your shared time as it fits, the two of you having to work around it rather than the other way around. Therefore, he intends to limit work to base to savour your time while on active duty or ahead of a leave. If that meant staying a day or so longer after returning from a mission where logistics needed to be taken care of, as he'd done during the summer and your first extended period apart, he said he would make that choice. And if there's an increased load of executive planning and paperwork due to an upcoming operation, his approach is the same.

He explained that, in the past, he'd very much blurred the lines, seeing how being alone and doing nothing for long periods left him restless. But with you in the picture, John tried to balance it. And just like that, you understood his dilemma tonight. He didn't want to make it a habit: filling the time he spent with you working.

You'd tried to compromise, not that you technically could, as he needed to finish his report no matter what. But, you tried to ease John's mind, telling him that sometimes it happened, just like it probably would for you. That was why you also proposed spending time in each other's company by working on your separate stuff, so he didn't feel like he took time away from you.

For you, that was just fine. It had already been an informal workday for you, meaning no meetings and no contact with clients, simply organising stuff and getting ahead on projects for the upcoming week. Continuing with that for a bit longer was no problem.

Your sluggish day of labour was apparent, as you hadn't even changed out of your sleeping shirt. Neither had you scampered to get a pair of pants when John knocked on your door, favouring to simply greeting him as you were.

He'd been surprised at seeing your state of undressed, rather bare-legged with only underwear beneath his black t-shirt, one of those he left behind earlier during the week.

Though not surprised like him, you were as delighted as all the other days he'd stopped by, spoiled rotten with seeing him dressed like this.

Like most days this week, that implied some getup per military standard. Today, John wore fitted cargo pants and an army sweater that got the quarter-zip open, offering a view of the tight-fitted shirt beneath it.

He'd greeted you in his same old fashion, a 'hello, love' as he stepped forward and over the threshold to meet you with a kiss. What followed, however, was a hummed 'can get used to bein' greeted like this' against your lips as he parted from you.

He'd ushered you backwards to let him enter and hide you from any potential neighbours passing by your entrance to see your scantily clad figure.

You didn't object as he closed the door behind him and put down his bag before kneeling to unlace his heavy boots. Instead, your eyes had flittered over his haunched form as he rucked loose his laces before standing straight again, hooking the back of his shoes beneath his toes and stepping out of them.

He'd followed you into your living room then, deciding to sit opposite you to avoid disturbing the corner you'd set up on the couch, where your computer and blue-light glasses waited.

Currently, your laptop rests on a pillow in your lap. The glasses you'd invested in, purely because of the copious amount of time you spent before a screen through work, resting on the bridge of your nose. Yet, you're currently using neither as you should.

The same black standby screen stares at you now as when you'd gone to greet John when he arrived two hours ago. And, your glasses don't serve their purpose of shielding your vision from electronic lights, concerning your attention is directed towards the burly figure of a man sitting so leisurely opposite you.

You hadn't seen John in his work clothes many times. Technically, you'd never seen him geared up and probably never would. So, the closest thing you would get was the standard dressing code he needed to adhere to on base. Up until this week, you'd barely even seen that.

Whereas now and for a few months ahead, the military would cling to him whenever he came around straight from work and spent the night, leaving in a similar-styled fashion in the morning concerning active duty often meant early mornings on base for John, either for a workout regime, meetings or supervising cadets. Between those instances, while unwinding with you, he changed into something more comfortable.

That was why your time of admiring John in these clothes was brief. And yet today, you got to indulge in one of the considerably fewer instances when he didn't immediately change after greeting you and borrowing your shower. In fact, this night was a total break in the routine.

Your eyes drop to the bag beside the armchair John occupies.

He'd said he would take his usual post-work-freshening-up shower after finishing the most pressing report. But, he'd gotten stuck in the typical workflow that was difficult to break, reaching for another map of documents rather than the bag resting by his feet. Maybe you should've reminded him, but you didn't.

The honourable reason? You didn't want to disturb John when noting the pile of documents to read had staggered to a measly two compared to the stack he'd brought. The selfish reason making your attention stray considerably more than his laser-focused one? You wanted to savour his appearance a bit longer.

You knew the visible neckline of the shirt beneath his sweater teased about what was underneath, namely a compression shirt fitted to accentuate John's muscled torso rather than hide it, a sight drool-worthy by itself. But the jumper wasn't a villain for hiding it. In your opinion, it added to it, making the blue-eyed man appear even broader than he already was, as if he could envelop you simply with his frame, tucking you within the expanse of his shoulders.

Despite how John managed to look so good in clothes produced for durability rather than fashion, it wasn't necessarily the clothes making you unable to rip your eyes off of him.

As always, your eyes drag over John's body until your gaze latches onto the embroiders littered over the sweater.

On the upper part of his chest, in an easily read, nothing fancy, standard military font, the precise writing of Price is visible. The lettering, placed square in sight on his right pectoral, stands out in a lighter blue text rather than the dark navy composing the sweater. On the opposite side, in the same-letter style, SAS. Sewn onto the right arm of his jumper is a badge-like British flag, so his unit's emblem. Symbols stating his rank also adorn his clothing, marks that your civilian eye probably wouldn't be able to interpret if you didn't already know he was a Captain.

That is why you like seeing John in his work attire.

The air around him changes. His typical calm stoicism tenfolds, acting as a reminder that his presence demands respect.

It wasn't a shift that screamed for attention, not hollered as a command to notice. You believe it's because it simply blends with John's personality at home so well. Either his work-life had engrained it into his DNA, so it always was a part of him no matter where he went. Or those traits had always been his fortes, even before serving in the military. You didn't know for sure which was correct.

Nonetheless, John's calm, secure and disciplined persona reached new heights. He looked like a man in charge.

It was almost mortifying how affected you got when he dressed like this. And yet, it was just something about John in dark blue or army green attires, with his rank so underwhelmingly stated but so evidently sensed, that made a part of you quiver in excitement.

Yeah, that Captain John Price was a weakness of yours was clear as fucking day.

"You doing good over there, Captain?" Blue eyes shift from the papers he held over his lap to meet your gaze.

You always revel in how swiftly his attention shifts to you when you use his rank. You didn't do it often. After all, at home, he wasn't Captain. But sometimes, even you used the alias.

"Mm, all good, love". John's answer was slow, eyes flickering over you before nodding, his eyes falling to the paper before him again.

"The Captain fancying a cup of tea?"

This time, John didn't move his head. He only glanced up, almost watching you through his eyebrows. "Wouldn't mind". The reply was short, his voice rough. Not grumpy, annoyed or anything like that. Simply profound.

You flash him a smile, pushing your computer aside and setting your glasses on the keyboard. As you stand from the couch, you stretch your legs.

You catch John's eyes lowering and you bet he didn't abstain from trailing them down your bare legs as you jostle the tingles out of them. Smiling to yourself, you head into the kitchen.

Fine, sometimes you may use his rank solely for his reaction.

You argue he shouldn't react like that. It's understandable he barely reacts to it when the boys of 141 use it just as much as his government name when addressing him. He must be used to it. So sure, surprise could be the reason in your instance. At the same time, it shouldn't, regarding it holds no value, no substance, when you use his rank.

Still, you've noticed it seemingly carries some weight.

The most common reaction you'd gathered was how swiftly you earned his attention. Nearly every time, you suppressed a grin at how it worked like clockwork. A sharp flicker of his eyes, gaze intense. You've also noticed how his head cock, eyes seemingly searching yours before they often slipped down your figure as he returned to whatever had his attention previously. And then it was how John eventually answered you. Sometimes, he cleared his throat before speaking, others not. Both choices provide a reply of comparable nature. Without exceptions, his voice was deep.

John's smokey, baritone voice was always pleasant to listen to. There were no edges, even though he wasn't afraid to remain silent between his sentences. And when he filled those with the occasional hum, a purr threatened to spill from your lips to how the low cord melted like liquid gold into your ears. And yet, his voice usually became gruffer when he spoke as a Captain in a professional setting.

You'd registered it when he once had taken a phone-call to book a time for a meeting with someone named Laswell or when he reprimanded one of the guys in a borderline-serious manner when you met them at a pub during one of their parallel leaves. The firmness in those deeply spoken sentences wasn't present when you dropped a 'Captain' while talking to him.

But there was something else. Something under your skin just begging you to consider it's awfully close to a particular lustful drawl of John's. The one you regard as utterly and painfully arousing. If not for the truth, then for your lustful desires.

You lean against the counter as you wait for the water to boil, arms crossed over your chest.

Facing the living room, you watch the only fascinating thing there.

John just about placed the stack of papers he'd been reading back into its corresponding map, leaning forward to position it on top of the rest. Leaning back again, you notice how he sighs from the quick movement of his chest while opening the last lacklustre folder beside him. Leaving it open, John takes out the reports by gripping its stapled corner, swiftly picking up the reading again. As he does, he notches his thumb beneath his jaw, index finger swiping back and forth over his lower lip, brows pulling together.

If not for the kettle signalling it's ready, you would've gotten stuck there, rooted in place as you take in the sight of the incredibly handsome man, your handsome man, so engrossed in his work.

Preparing your respective beverages is easy. The task is something you've done countless times by now. So, within minutes, you're heading towards the seating arrangement with your respective mugs.

John notices your presence before his attention shifts to you, noticeable from how he pulls his stretched-out leg back towards him so you can step between his seat and the coffee table. Yet those blues flicker to you with an appreciative look right before you turn to settle his cup of tea on the tabletop.

You set the mug down momentarily, reaching for a protective coaster. Placing the circular piece of wood close to the cup, you rearrange it to rest atop it instead.

That could've been it. You could've just wandered back to your seat, either in an attempt to work or admire the view again. But no.

"There you go, Captain". You shift to face John with an innocent smile, gesturing to the cup from where steam curls upwards, filling the closest proximity of air with a spicy but soft scent of herbs. His hand has fallen from his jaw. Now, it rests on top of the folder at the armrest as he gazes at you, blues-eyes truly observing you.

You don't know why the seemingly innocent eye contact makes you squirm. But from how John watches you, a feverish sensation rushes through your body, heating you from the inside under the scrutiny of his gaze.

The concoction of having John dressed like he is, watching you as he does and your lecherous imagination does wonders to lighten your belly on fire. You bite your lip, about to return to your seat, when John sits up, abruptly halting your attempt.

The swift thought of 'he's reaching for his mug' is wiped away immediately as he instead reaches for you.

He circles the back of your neck with his big hand and tugs you down enough to meet him in a kiss. A soft, surprised noise vibrates against his lips, your eyes widening in reaction to his unexpected action, as opposed to his, which slips close.

"Such a darlin' to me, you know that?" John hums the word against your lips. And even if you like doing these small things for him because you see how much he enjoys them, your breath hitches, making John's eyes flutter open.

When meeting your still wide-eyed expression, his lips bow upwards beneath his beard before his hand falls from your neck. This time, he reaches for the mug.

As you straighten, your cup clutched against your stomach, John slouches backwards again.

"It's nothing", you reply to the man who looks too fucking indecent for still being fully dressed from the way his thighs fall outwards.

"It's everythin'", John insists. Your heart makes a dangerous leap as his baritone voice travels straight down.

The way he's watching you doesn't help at fucking all as you feel a surging need to squeeze your legs together, something that would be embarrassingly noticeable from John's position.

Rather than answering, mouth incredibly dry all of a sudden, you only return his appreciation with a small smile.

That his eyes follow you when you head back to your seat is apparent, your heart continuing its elevated rhythm with each step you take and his attention on your back. But when you sit down, facing him again, he's back to reading, the mug resting against his thigh.

Much like John, you should go back to work. But you don't need to look at your computer to know your last sliver of motivation has disappeared. Your attention undividedly on something else entirely.

You shuffle in your seat, one leg bent and resting on the cushioned seat beneath you, the other pulled close to your body with your foot planted on the couch. It makes you lean slightly to the side and the pillows you'd stacked for a makeshift edge towards the couch's middle.

Unable not to, your eyes flitter over John's form as you nurse your drink.

His legs spread wide, trapping your gaze to glide over his crotch more than once, especially as he readjusts his position, hips doing that slight upwards jut as he makes himself more comfortable. You also follow his action of occasionally raising the mug to his mouth, his eyes never leaving the paper as he does.

You watch as he sets down the documents on his leg to switch to the next side with the same hand, not desiring to go through the action of leaning forward, putting down the cup of tea, only to retrieve it to situate himself again.

Eyes remaining on the cup, you remark how John's big hand wraps around it, having no trouble encasing more than half of it. You compare it to how you hold your cup. One hand grabs the ear while your other hand curves along the opposing side.

When he raises the mug to his mouth, you follow the move, gaze lingering on his face even though he lowers it not soon after.

You map the line of his beard, the purse of his lips, and how his eyes move from the left to the right as he follows the sentences on the paper.

And then, John's eyes flicker upwards, catching your blatant staring. Amusement flickers to life in those blues when you don't even try to play it off before he adverts his gaze down to the paper.

"You're starin', love". John remarks. The cup of tea is brought to his lips as his attention remains on the document.

"Just enjoying the view", you shrug. Not untrue.

John's brows arch. Not much later, as if wanting to finish a sentence, his head tilts upwards to look at you. "That so?"

"Mhm", you flash him a brief smile before you raise your mug to your lips, sipping its contents. His eyes narrow briefly.

Even though you can't think of anything odd in your reaction, John apparently does.

"Is there somethin' more?"

Your heart jumps. "No, you're free to continue working", you try deflecting John's attempt at making you explain what's on your mind. Apparently, you only succeeded in catching his attention more.

"I'm done". John states, making your brows jump and eyes flicker downwards, not having noticed he was on the last page of a considerably thinner stack of papers, unlike the previous ones.

"Weren't you instructed to report back?" Your gaze shifts back to his face.

"Taken some notes. I'll send a mail later before goin' to bed". John replies promptly, meanwhile restoring the papers in their proper order. As he places the stack back in its map and drops it on top of the other finished ones on the table, he speaks. "Now I want to hear about what you're tip-toein' around 'cause it doesn't seem like nothin'".

"No, really, it's nothing important".

John cocks his head, brows raising in a silent inquiry.

You refuse to believe it's the 'men in uniform' curse amongst civilians. You know that's not the case, seeing how you don't find all soldiers good-looking just because, only John. Even so, you detest the thought of seeming disrespectful, fearing you reduced his career path to a mere point of attraction. It was one thing allowing it to fuel your imagination. But to admit it aloud? To John? Yeah, no.

You reach for the case of your glasses, popping it open with ease and inserting the specs. Placing them on top of your now closed laptop, you scoop them up and stand, about to discard the items in your bedroom.

The action was not impulsive. You always put your device on charge once John arrives. Today, it understandably changed to when he finished the reports he'd brought. Yet you didn't get that far, stopped unexpectedly by his voice.

"Sit". Your body stalls, brows raising. When you don't do as John says, his head cocks, fingers rapping against the armrest as he motions to the seat you just stood from with a nod. This time, you follow his request. "Talk to me, love. What's on your mind?"

Your fingers clutch your computer briefly before you reluctantly set it down on your coffee table. You sip your tea, searching for your words.

Upon your silence, stalling, an urging 'hm?' stems from John.

"I just, you know, think you look good today".

"Do I look any different today than otherwise?" He inquires. You don't think he means to interrogate you, but it feels just like that from how he watches you closely from his seat. It makes you squirm, raising your mug to your lips again before you answer.

"Well, you got those on".

John hums softly, a sound of acknowledgement. And, ever as keen, he figures out what your haphazard motions to his attire imply. "You like the clothes". It's more of a statement than a question, but you give him a nod anyway.

"They look good on you".

"That's what got you so worked up?"

"I'm not-"

"You are", he muses, cutting off your sentence as he leans forward, forearms resting on his knees as he places his mug on the coaster. "Those glasses you're religiously stubborn about using have been more off your face than not despite that laptop of yours being right in front of your face", he points out.

Your brows pull together, lips parting as a protest isn't far away. But John beats you to it.

"No need denyin', I've noticed you starin' at me more than that screen of yours. Then we can't forge 'bout your teasin'".

This time, your brows genuinely furrow. "I haven't teased you?".

His head tilts to the side. "No? Could think I never left base with how much you've used my rank tonight, love".

Oh, oh. John thinks your use of his rank is teasing. So it must mean something different when you use it. Not just in your imagination, then. Regardless of discovering this, you don't know how to react to John's admittance. You still feel like a mouse being toyed with by a cat.

He watches you expectantly as if waiting for you to speak up. Instead, your fingers only rap against your mug before raising it again.

You tip your cup, yet no liquid reaches your lips. Your eyes flicker downwards as you lower it, noticing its emptiness.

The nervous sips you'd taken off your tea have apparently drained it quicker than you anticipated.

Much like a mouse making a break for it each time the cat releases it, you don't hesitate to stand and head into the kitchen to discard your mug, seizing the chance to escape John's heavy gaze and probing for enough time you don't fumble for an answer.

What you don't expect is the footsteps following you into the kitchen. But you should've. The cat never lets its prey get too far away.

Naturally, you look over your shoulder.

John moves so assuredly. There's a slight sway to his hips, strides not hurried despite covering the same distance as you in a much more rapid fashion. Confidence, he oozes it from the very way he carries himself.

There's no denying that such a mass moving with such practised ease is on the verge of terrifying. But the thrill harbours an indisputable excitement, especially as your eyes briefly meet John's blue ones, calm but bright with intrigue.

You turn forward as you reach the kitchen counter, putting your mug in the sink, attempting to hide how he affects you. But believing you could hide from an elite soldier in plain sight is foolish.

The hairs on your neck stand when John steps up behind you.

He sets his mug beside yours before his hands settle on the counter. With one hand at either side of you, his shoulders haunch to eclipse yours, making your heart thump in your chest.

"Indulge me. What about the clothes you like so much it got you behavin' like this?"

"Uhm-". Your thoughts screech to a halt as you flail for something to say. Admitting just how much John in these clothes affects you brushes on mortifying. "The way it fits you, I guess", you settle on in the end.

"You guess?". John repeats close to your ear.

Pride and a certain level of amusement roll off of him in waves, seeping right through your back, worming itself to your front only to nestle in your chest. Rather than installing the same emotions in you, they fuel your desire and jittery nerves.

"Love?" He gently encourages you to detail your answer, causing you to bite your inner cheek, rolling the meat between your molars. You may be tentative to admit your inner thoughts. But, it's still John with his incredibly calm and soothing self that puts you at ease and finally makes you relent.

"They just make you feel stronger, more authoritative-"

"Authoritative?" If you would've faced John, his inquisitive look would've met you. And yet, you don't even need to, feeling it burn into the side of your head as his ducked head angles towards you. You see it out of your peripheral, how he gazes at you, but you persistently stare directly forward as you give him a slight nod.

You swallow, worrying that you overstepped as you tried explaining the indecent thoughts wrecking your brain without spewing their true nature as blatantly as they arise.

Assuming that's the reason for John's momentary silence, he surprises you when he finally speaks.

"You know, love", he hums, airy and amused. Your eyes drop, following his hands as they trail up the stone counter until they settle on top of yours. His fingers worms in between your slender ones. "I have noticed how remarkably much you've been staring, how handsy you've been when I come home like this".

Body lightening on fire, a warm rush sweeps through you, the sound of blood suddenly pounding noticeably in your ears as you duck your head. Had you? You hadn't even thought so.

"Nothing to fluster about".

"Well, I do", you bite back, but there's no venom to your words, only embarrassment that you hadn't hidden your desire well enough, even if it was to an elite soldier you'd lost to. The mouse would forever lose to the cat.

"Why?"

"Because it's wrong, John. Just because you fit too bloody good dressed like a Captain, it shouldn't turn me on this fucking much". Thank god you're not looking at him. You would've sunken through the floor.

"I remember you mentioned somethin' like that the night we met".

"I said that you suit being a Captain, not that it turns me on". John's exhale borders on a groan and your brows knit together when you catch it.

"Remember you called me that as well". John brushes past the admittance in your sentence as if it's nothing. "Caught me off-guard the first time". He nudges your head from the side, hands tightening over yours.

"Why?" You breathe, realising his voice has dropped into a husky depth. It only did that when his arousal stirred, which sparked your curiosity enough to repress your humiliation.

"Sounded so wrong from you, a civvie callin' me by rank. But I couldn't deny I liked it". John's face falls into your neck, placing a kiss beneath your ear as he drops a fraction of his weight against your back. Still, it's enough to cage you to the counter and feel his hardening cock against your rear. Your eyes widen. "And then you said it while I was stuffin' that cunt of yours. Bloody hell, I almost lost my head when you called me Captain all stunningly dishevelled beneath me". A surprised gasp rips from your throat at John's words curl along the shell of your ear while he shoves his growing erection against you.

"What are you saying?" Your chest heaves at the end of your sentence as John rubs himself against the plush swell of your ass from behind.

"I'm tellin' you, despite how wrong it is, that I like when you call me Captain". He husks into your ear, using your wording from earlier.

John steadily grinds against you, pressing you further into the counter's edge. Instinctually, you arch against him, but one of his hands swiftly grabs your hip, forcing you down.

"Love, I wanna try somethin' out", he hums. "Tell me if it gets too much. Understood?" There's no hesitancy in John's voice, only an alluring reassurance and passion that pikes your interest.

"Yeah, alright".

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, John, I understand". You whine, curiosity eating you from the inside, yet he only tsks at you.

"You know what to call me". You inhale sharply. Fuck, could he be talking about? He is. You swallow, mind reeling as you realise John's alluding to something you've only entertained as fantasy. And yet, his rank solely remains a heavy, dirty thought. "Come on, love, know you want to".

You swallow, eyes wide and staring forward. John must sense your hesitancy as his hand rucks the shirt you're wearing upwards, baring your ass. Attempting to coax you, he shoves his bulge straight into your scantily covered pussy.

"I want you to say it, m'not goin' any further until you do. Both of us must want this". That does the trick. You wouldn't pass up on this chance.

"C-Captain".

"Whole sentence, love".

"I understand, Captain".

"Good girl". He praises you. "Now, you'll take what I give".

"Oh", you breathe out as a violent shiver runs down your spine and the muscles attaching to the back of your head quiver.

John's not only igniting something so perfectly inside your body. He also flips a switch in your head with his commanding voice, precisely the one that made his authoritative nature as a Captain so attractive.

"From your reaction, it seems you don't mind bein' ordered around". John breathes into your ear. "Is that correct?"

"Don't mind".

The man behind you releases a hum as he tests your reply by nudging his foot against your right ankle. You can feel him smirk at how you react, widening your stance one foot at a time without any resistance. Even when John presses himself against your back and continues forward by bending over you until you're flat against the kitchen counter, you don't resist him.

"So pliant, aren't you?" One of his hands releases yours, yet you continue pressing it against the stone. His fingers trail up your now bent arm, over your shoulder and along the curve of your body until his fingers curl around your waist.

You nod swiftly, only catching the faintest reflection of the movement even though your cheek rests against the polished stone surface. He chuckles at your hasty reply, the sound cracking up the length of your spine.

"Mhm, stay like that now". John instructs, standing straight with a squeeze to your hand that, up until now, remained intertwined with his.

His fingers run along your clothed spine until it reaches your bared lower vertebral, then your ass until it dips between your legs from behind, pressing into the seam of your underwear.

"Fuckin' hell, you've gotten this wet already? So desperate for your Captain, eh?" You whimper as he pushes against the damp fabric, the material pressing into your folds.

"Yes, John-Captain!" You correct yourself as he slaps your pussy upon the slip-up. The tap of his palm doesn't hurt but acts as a reminder. Nevertheless, it sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine, making you squirm.

"Two rules, love", he remarks. "One, for now, it's Captain. Two, if you don't keep still, I'll stop touchin' you, leavin' you all pent up, just like this, right here", he makes clear. As if daring you to obey, a gentle test calculating how much you really want this, his thumb shallowly probes against your core. Your eyes snap shut, teeth digging into your bottom lip, a forced exhale escaping your lungs as you concentrate on not rocking backwards while fabricating a reply.

"Y-yes, Captain".

As if content with your words and actions, John steps away. Despite the loss of contact, you remain in your position.

Your pulse thrums as you listen to John, picking up on the shift of clothes and the sound of a zipper. Your anticipation skyrockets as he doesn't hurry his movements, taking his sweet time before he touches you again. When he does, he pulls down your panties until the elastic band digs into the middle of your thighs.

A shuddering breath escapes your lungs when nothing separates John's fingers from your exposed wetness. He runs two fingers up and down almost leisurely until one digit firmly pushes against your clit in a circular sweep. The sudden attention to your throbbing bundle of nerves sends neurons flying.

You don't even know on what scientific level it's possible to stop an involuntary reaction, but just as you feel your lower back muscles tightening, you slam the flatness of your palm against the counter with a 'shit' as you try.

You wouldn't count it as moving, but you did twitch upon the surprising pressure against your clit. And as John pulls away, placing his hand on the small of your back, you whine in defeat, knowing he caught it too.

"What was that?".

"Nothing, nothing, please, Captain, I'll be good". You don't even realise what you say yourself as you plead with John. He couldn't leave you there. You would possibly explode.

He only tuts, hand pressing firmer against your spine. Your heart drops for a second until he speaks. "I'll let you of this once".

"Thank you". John groans behind you, curse breathed beneath his breath as his character breaks for a moment, caught off guard by your rushed response. It's not long, but it's a reminder that it's still John behind you.

A swift pressure change against your spine indicates he's gathered himself again before he picks up where he left off.

His finger starts trailing up and down your folds again, but you remain in your position in spite of how your legs quiver in want, a desire for more.

Your wet, sopping, John's digit coated swiftly in your slick as he teases you.

He toys back and forth before his finger slips down. This time you've already braced yourself when he circles your clit. You force yourself to hold still as you whine at the contact, wanting nothing more than to rock backwards.

Noticing your struggle and stubbornness, John's free hand grabs your hip, kneading the flash with gentle squeezes. "Mhm, just like that, love, doin' so good for me".

His baritone rolls over your back, making you shudder, skin knotting with goosebumps. He never once stops the slow movement of his finger, causing you to clench around nothing continuously, especially as he starts flicking the tip of his finger.

You press your forehead against the counter upon the small, sharp jolts of electricity firing pleasure through your nervous system. But it's so fleeting it doesn't have an opportunity to build into anything damning as John pulls away from your clit, falling back to running his digit along your folds.

John stays clear from your throbbing bundle of nerves, rotating his hand as he teasingly concentrates more and more attention on your entrance. You release an anticipated breath as he brushes over it repeatedly until you bite your lip. You want to tilt your hips to make him slip inside. But you withhold the urge, thankfully reaping the rewards before you get desperate enough that your body acts on instinct.

John puts the slightest pressure behind the dragging motion. At first, only the tip of his finger enters you before he pulls it back, doing the same thing a few times until he pushes its entirety inside.

You moan even though it's not nearly enough to stretch you so deliciously you feel full. But it just feels good having something sliding in and out of you. Though one soon turns to two when John pulls out, a second finger prodding your pussy before both slip inside.

Squelching noises fill the air as he fingers you, his other digits pressing against your ass. You pant, unable to keep your noises at bay as he finally relents somewhat in his fleeting touches and indulges you with some relief. But it's not nearly enough.

The pace remains slow, his fingers imitating a stroking motion even inside you rather than plunging deep and fast or wriggling forcefully to spur an orgasm. Now, you only feel your high building oh so slowly that it's frustrating how flat the exponential curve is.

And yet, as if projected from your body, you can see the scene you're a part of and find it unbelievably arousing.

John, with his cock freed from his pants and occasionally brushing against your rear, otherwise fully clothed, almost lazily pumping his fingers in and out of your hole as you bend over the counter, panties around your legs, doing your damnedest to keep fucking still.

You moan at the image, hands pressing flat against the counter before curling into fists. It's so fucking erotic that you feel John's fingers suddenly sliding more easily in and out despite the way you clench around them.

"You're practically drippin', love", he teases you, fingers leaving your entrance for a few seconds, not hovering far from your pussy, until they return with a press against your clit, a new chillier slickness coating them. The acknowledgement that you're wet enough it nearly dribbles from you wears your patience to the breaking point.

"Captain, I can't take it, fuck me already". John doesn't reprimand you for your demand, only chuckles as he steps close, cock pressing against your asscheek.

His fingers have dropped from your clit, but his touch is soon replaced with the head of his cock as he guides it to your folds, running it up and down to coat himself in your slick.

You let out a shuddering moan as John pushes slightly against your entrance, tip breaching your hole, only to slip out and repeat the movement. Regardless that he's in charge, your frustrated cry is all it takes for him to push into you properly with an amused huff that sharply pivots into a grunt.

"Yeah, just like that- arch for me… good girl…". John groans, and you take his urge to meet his thrust that you're finally free to move as you wish.

You gape as he bottoms out in one slow press, hips pressed flush against your ass. You feel his legs tremble, his hands flexing on your hips, but he stays still for your sake of accustoming to his girth.

"So good for your Captain". You whimper at his words, making him chuckle breathily. "Oh, you like that, eh?" He feigns ignorance of what he'd learnt: that you absolutely do. He grabs a fistful of your ass. "Dirty girl…". You gasp as he spanks your rear, the smacking sound making you clench around him.

"Need you to move". You whine as you wriggle your hips. But John bends over you, burly frame forcing your upper body flush to the cool tabletop.

"Come on, love". He scolds huskily against the shell of your ear, warm breath cascading past your cheek. Parts of his hands grip your ass while the rest cover your hips, the meat spilling between his fingers. But he remains still, deep inside you, not moving until the proper phrase falls from your lips.

It's easier to give in this time, having been shoved over the edge previously, ignoring the immorality of using his rank in this setting and whatever pride left in your body. Mentally, at least.

Physically, it takes you a few seconds, preoccupied with basking in what's happening. Bent over the counter with the biting kiss from the cold stone dulled from the shirt you borrowed from John. Yet the harshness from the unmoving material doesn't fail to make itself reminded against your soft body despite the shielding material. Effortlessly sandwiching you is the similarly firm body of John, considerably warmer but still effective in immobilising you.

"Captain, please". His rank is honey, saccharine and dripping effortlessly from your tongue once you find your voice through the arousal. "Please move".

"Mm, that's it", he croons, granting you the movement you want as he straightens, not before kissing your clothed shoulder. Exegrated to make up for the fabric separating you.

It starts with calculated thrusts that make you keen and almost roll back and forth on your feet from the steady and slow pace. Then John picks up the speed, rutting against you with powerful snaps of his hips. Your fingers scramble, finding purchase on the counter's edge, curling over the side to have some semblance of grounding force.

It doesn't take long before you moan unabashedly at each stroke, fluttering around his cock as he works his length in and out of you, driving his hips forward and back in a steady beat. Along the erotic sound of skin slapping and wet noises is the filth spewing from his lips.

"This what you wanted, eh?" He gruffs. "With all those looks?" He gets a moan in response as you turn your head so your cheeks rest against the counter, watching him through the corner of your eye.

John's jaw hangs slack, hair falling along his forehead as he must be staring at where the two of you connect. He looks raptured, almost dazed. He said he wanted this as well and by the looks of it... yeah, he really did. You don't know how you haven't noticed. But, fortunately, John sets your knack of reading people to shame compared to his skill.

You're snapped out of your thoughts as one of his hands leaves your hips and you see him raise it at an angle. You whine, arching towards it as much as possible with the unbudging surface beneath you. It drags his eyes upwards, noticing how you're watching him.

His lips tug upwards, eyes never leaving you as his palm swats your ass. A reactionary moan spills from your lip as your legs press against the outer side of his thighs at the sensation, brows knitting together from the stinging pleasure.

It spurs John to rut harder, causing your body to fucking sing as your head gets steadily dizzier.

He releases a breathless chuckle at your inability to conjure anything apart from keening sounds and guttural moans as your body goes lax, eyes fluttering close, body jolting at the new pace he sets.

But he doesn't appear much more put together as he witnesses how you allow yourself to let go, giving the reins entirely to him.

You catch how John's sentence breaks into fractions, groans and heady sounds spilling from his lips between sentences to rile you up even further. In the end he can't release much more than growling sounds as he folds, resting his chest against your back, using his weight to forcefully push his hips against yours, making his balls tap against your clit each time.

John barely pulls himself back enough to push forwards again, but it's enough to repeatedly batter the head of his cock against the spot making your legs tingly and toes flex before curling.

Once again, your hands search for something to grasp upon the pleasure coursing through your body. One manages to bend backwards over your shoulder, catching the lapel of John's jumper, and the other slides feebly across the smooth countertop.

Your orgasm is building, breaths turning stunted, muscles seizing.

You feel John's rhythm stutter as you clench more frequently and reactionary in response to his ruts as you near your release. His head ducks to rest between your shoulder-blades, warm puffs of air seeping through the oversized shirt you're wearing. His teeth bite down on the excess fabric, grunts vibrating against you.

John's getting close, throbbing violently inside you, hands digging into your hips even further. When he angles his thrusts downwards, a dirty grind at the end of each penetration, he hits so many pleasurable spots that you release an unprompted cry.

You don't need much, so close to your edge that your head thrash that you wedge your hand beneath your forehead to not knock yourself out cold. So when John grits a heady sentence through his teeth and the fabric trapped between them, that's it.

"Come on, love, be a good girl to your Captain. Wanna feel you squeeze 'round me".

Your eyes snap close as you jerk against him, ass pressing upwards before involuntarily trying to escape his persistent thrusts as the pleasure explodes. But your hipbones are already aching from the counter and you can't flee how John continues to cram his girthy cock into your twitching hole, so you just let him extend your orgasm until he reaches his with a growl.

John curls around you, hips pressing snuggly against your rear as he spurts his release deep. You feel his warm spend inside you, releasing a shattered moan as your eyelids flutter but, in the end, remain closed.

The stone isn't as cold against your forehead anymore, the surface likely warming from your panting exhales.

John's chest rises and falls against your back. He massages your hips almost unconsciously, small flexes of his fingers. Your hand, previously fisting his jumper, falls to your left hip, squeezing his wrist before your fingers graze over his knuckles and card between digits, easing his grip. It seems to bring him out of his post-orgasmic rouse as he softens the action until he stills completely, now cradling the likely-to-be-discoloured area.

"Fuck", he exhales as he releases your shirt from his teeth. The wet spot where his saliva has sept into the fabric is significant as it falls back against your skin.

You reply with a soft confirming sound, craning your neck to glance at John.

His face has risen and is now close to yours. However, what catches you off-guard isn't the proximity but his gaze. It's dark and glittering, a spent smile noticeable through his facial hair.

He kisses you despite the awkward angle. The hair that's

fallen out of place and endearingly covers his forehead brushes yours.

The interaction is brief before he rises, bringing you with him from the forwards-bent position that's not as comfortable for either of you when the lust-driven haze fades. In the movement, John slips out of you before stepping back. Not soon after, he pulls your underwear into place.

The hem of his shirt drops around your thighs once you stand again and it doesn't catch on John's hand. You run a hand through your hair, letting it fall to the kitchen counters, noticing your balance is still wobbly. Your other hand assist your balance by resting on the kitchen counter as you take a moment to collect yourself.

You take a moment to collect yourself before you turn to face John with a sigh. He's just popped the button on his cargos back in place but doesn't care about tucking his t-shirt into the waistband of his pants again.

As John runs a hand through his hair, the other naturally falls to your hip to steady you as his gaze locks with yours.

"All good?" His voice is gritty, pleasure still intertwined with the soft check-in.

"Mm, yeah", you smile sluggishly, your voice breathy. "You?"

"All good. I wasn't too much?" There's a glimmer of concern in his eyes, one you shoo away immediately.

"No, god, you were not too much, John, you were... really good". You reach out to touch John, hands slipping between the layers of fabric on his torso. He melts under your touch, relaxing the arm that had raised so he could tame his hair, letting it curve around your neck. With the back of your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm, he tugs you closer to him.

"Didn't know you had such a thing for men in uniform, love". He chuckles, lightening the mood as he looks down at you.

"You in uniform".

"Compliments your take on a gallantry medal?"

"Mhm", you hum against his lips. "My Captain deserves them". You cheekily use the nickname you'd moaned shamelessly only minutes prior, making him huff an amused laugh that puffs against your mouth.

"Not gonna hear the end of that, eh?"

"At ease, soldier, I'm only gonna use it when I wanna get a rile out of you". You press a kiss against John's lips and he reciprocates it. In the end, a smile splits yours open, one you greet him with as you lean away, creating a bit of space between you. "But what would they think of that? Esteemed Captain Price with a captain kink". He pinches your rear, and you squeal, a sound that fades into a giggle as the hand previously on the counter settles on your hip.

"Watch it". The edges of John's eyes are still creased in the corners as he says it, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Just curious", you defend yourself with a shrug. "But I can't say I'm surprised you like the power-trip". You give the blue-eyed man a playful purse of your lips.

He cock his head, brows arching. "Why?"

"Being a good Captain must come from somewhere. You like ordering people around", you muse.

"Delighted to be your entertainment". John exhales through his nose.

You try to lean up to kiss his furrowed expression away, but by tightening his arm around your head and leaning backwards, he avoids your attempt.

"Don't be pouty. You seemed to enjoy it just as much as I did. Admitted you do". You chide John lightly and he drops the faux offence, delight and piked interest present in his eyes.

"Mm, 'bout that. Didn't know you liked bein' ordered around that much". You smile shyly, head notching forwards, not far from resting against his chest from your closeness.

"We all have our moments of something, don't we?" You look up at John through your lashes.

His arms slide down until his hand envelops your neck. A hum fills the air before he leans down, pressing his lips against yours briefly, soothing any possible apprehension in your answer framed as a question rather than a statement.

"Would you like me to do it more?" You crack into a smile at his question, eyes fluttering open to meet his blue eyes.

"Yeah, I would like to. I-I adore when you're sweet on me, John, but I also like when you're rough. Just, you know, take what you want sometimes, do as you please". You shrug, catching how John releases the air from his lungs in something akin to wonder and desire.

"You trust me enough?"

"If your men trust you on the field, I think I can trust you in this situation".

John lets out a long groan, head tipping backwards as his eyes shut tightly. "Don't bring the lads into this, don't want that association".

You chuckle in earnest. "What? You're their Captain first and foremost".

"Not this type", he huffs, head falling forward. Looking at you again, the hand on the side of your neck slides to your hip, both hands now anchored there.

"Alright, alright. Only want you to myself anyways". You lean up, planting a series of kisses against John's lips until he reciprocates, the frown disappearing from his brows.

"Already got me, love". His voice softens, making you smile in return.

Just as you're about to reply, the sensation of fluids flowing out of you makes you reactively twitch and clamp your legs together, hands flexing on his stomach. John notices, suppressing a smirk as he fishes your hands from beneath his jumper.

"Let's get you cleaned up." John enlaces his hand with one of yours, tugging you along as he heads towards your bathroom. "Still need to have that shower".

"You like seeing me wet, don't you?"

"Never said we would shower". John sends you a humoured look over his shoulder, making you roll your eyes. "Watch that attitude of yours. Things like that get you a lesson in discipline in the army".

"Because that would be my biggest problem and not sleeping with a Captain, who I much rather get disciplined by." You quip with an amused look.

"Careful with what you wish for, love". John returns, the reply accompanied by a wink. As you chuckle with a shake of your head, John pulls you forward and into his side, planting a kiss on the side of your head, effectively ending the conversation as you step into the bathroom.

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nina-rosa · 1 year

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(read from left to right →)

🌸 The negligible self 🌸 chapter 1, p.8 to 17

Read the first pages here!

Second part of that comic based on a serirei (from mp100) fanfiction written by @homosexual-fanfiction (@/ch_am on Ao3)! Please go read the fanfic there too it’s really good!!!!!!! (they posted the last chapter recently and the ending was so sweet 😭;;;;!!!!)

You can find Camp here too: @ch-am

I wanted to thank you all for the warm reception the first pages got!!! I read all your comments with a huge smile on my face :)) 💕💕💕 I hope you’ll enjoy these new pages too!!!! 👀💞

Here’s the link to the fic!!

#serirei #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #serizawa #serizawa katsuya #reigen #reigen arataka #fanfiction #fanfic #thenegligibleself #comic

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randomyuu · 9 months

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Yuuji bowl :D

Let’s have a go with All!Yuuji because why not :D

One day I found this fic titled everything i couldn’t save by lying_sun and it got me hooked. It’s not everyday I can find a good Yuuji bowl fic (mostly because I focused a bit too much on Goyuu but I digress)

Btw, is it Yuuji harem? Yuuji bowl??? What do you call a harem with Yuuji btw? I’m too lazy to do research on this topic—

Anyway! The time has come to shower Yuuji with more love. I really adore this fic. The deadly and powerful nature of Yuuji as Sukuna’s vessel, yet his ability and heart are that of a healer. It’s contrastingly beautiful. And it’s SFW! Fluff! Fluff! ✨Fluff! ✨ And of course, a bit of angst because why not :)

If you like a Healer!Yuuji as SaShiSu trio’s teacher, please give this fic a read!

This time, I have shorter thoughts so no Read More is needed :DD

What is the best way to include all Yuuji pairings in a fanart?

Stack them up of course! Squish them all into a small space!

Everytime I see Hidden Inventory Arc characters, it always feels like going back to the past. So the concept of immortalising this precious Yuuji bowl into a Polaroid photo feels fitting. And without me even realising it, the outcome feels… cheerful? A bit romcom-ish? Despite the amount of black clothes and hair, the vibe is really light. It feels weird as I usually draw in a rather sombre tone, but I found I like this kind of tone as well!

And also because Yuuji deserves all the love :”)

Ah, this fic is truly giving me “healer yuuji for the soul”. Beautiful.

As I drew this, the fic is almost finished, with the future last chapter being a Sukuna chapter! Since I was not sure what their dynamic would look like, I decided he would be a chibi (I was in the mood for a chibi and he’s my sacrificial lamb). It kind of indicates that he’s different. As in not having his own body and cannot hug Yuuji physically haha

Unless? 👀

Drawing them all was really fun! It was a bit tricky since I couldn’t find references for the pose so I just winging it with my available anatomy knowledge. Bless the college for having black uniforms. Helps a lot lol

Anyway, that’s it from me. I hope you enjoy the drawing, and also the fic if you ever decided to give it a read! I wish you all a pleasant weekend! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

#Yuu's art #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk-fic-fanart #jjk-ship #jjk ship #goyuu #gojou x yuuji #getou x yuuji #toji x yuuji #sukuna x yuuji #question mark...?#sukuita #sukuita is implied #5u #nobara is besties with yuuji and I want to be her

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kingofbodyrolls · 6 months

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Friendcation (m) | myg | seven [fin]

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |

Summary: Melancholy shrouds you and Yoongi in your last days of vacation – time to get back home to the daily grind. But when you can visit Yoongi in his garage, is it really so bad?

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)

Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin.

Genre/AU: best friends to friends with benefits to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, slight angst, smut and fluff

Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Status: complete!

Word Count: 11.3K

Warnings (general): angst and uncertainty, pregnancy test and pregnancy scare. Warnings (explicit): explicit rough sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, ass slapping, impreg kink (new for me, so it might be light and soft), nipple play, Yoongi’s garage and a certain car 👀 (yes this is a warning and you’ll understand it when you read it 🥵), hair pulling, slight possessiveness 👀, lots of ass grabbing, some brief cockwarming too.

Author’s note(1): This is the end of the road, guys 😭 It has truly been a rollercoaster for me, and I’m so pleased with these last chapters and I feel like this is a good way to end things for this couple and their teasing friends.

Also, there’s a line of dialogue in this chapter (one of Yoongi’s 🥵) that spawned another fic that I actually wrote to get out of my writers block before I could finish friendcation – It’s ‘Say that Again (I Dare You)’, if you’re interested you can go ahead and give it a read 🙂 (It has nothing to do with friendcation and everything to do with me being an insatiable hoe 😇).

Thank you so much – and thanks to all that likes, comments, reblogs, yeah, anything. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, it makes me so happy and a damn smiling fool 💜

Author’s note #2 (very important): when I wrote this chapter, I’d simultaneously been reading @kithtaehyung’s 3tan series, and without even realizing it, I had written a scene similar to hers. They do it on a desk—, and I know, yes, in many fics the characters do it on a desk, but to me, this was enough for me to say something was wrong with my work. It wasn’t even that similar in the wording or the specific scene, but to be on the safe side, I have rewritten the scene in question. ✨

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts, @constancelayon, @wobblewobble822, @ktownshizzle, @moonchild1, @ultimatefangirl0, @baechugff, @jimintaemin, @parapiop7, @fckkntired, @iluvfndms, @citypop-princess, @tarahardcore, @bergandysam, @massivelyfullenthusiast, @tatyhend, @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **you can still be added to the taglist, just drop a comment here, on any chapter or the masterlist and I’ll add you 🌸

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.

“The second statement is a lie,” you laugh, your conviction cutting through the night air. The rest of your group joins in with a collective hum of agreement.

“You just don’t strike me as the threesome type,” you assert, adding a touch of finality to your words.

Namjoon casts a curious gaze your way, his eyebrows lifting ever so slightly.

“Are you sure?” he asks, a hint of skepticism coloring his words.

You nod affirmatively, your confidence unwavering. It’s hard to fathom Namjoon engaging in such endeavors; his other statements seem to carry a more authentic resonance.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, almost popping out of their sockets, as Namjoon casually shrugs his shoulders, his laughter resonating through the air. “Well, I have,” he admits, reclining in his seat with an air of nonchalance.

Your gasp is almost audible, a testament to the revelation that shatters your preconceived notions. “Wow,” you utter in awe, realizing that even those you thought you knew well can still surprise you with hidden facets.

“I just didn’t think you were into that, maybe Hoseok, but you, Joonie?” you say in a breathy voice, the disbelief evident.

The mention of Hoseok prompts an indignant “Hey!” from him, and you can’t help but chuckle.

Namjoon continues to laugh, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he playfully challenges Hoseok, “It’s your turn, Hobi.”

All eyes, except Yoongi's, focused on the road, shift to Hoseok, waiting for the next set of revelations as he contemplates his three statements. The rhythmic hum of the engine underscores the silence, creating a suspenseful atmosphere within the confines of Holly.

As you all hum with curiosity, anticipating Hoseok’s next revelation, he unveils another layer of himself. “I once dated a man,” he confesses, a momentary hush falling over the group, the revelation hanging in the air like a delicate thread.

The subsequent statement, “I’m scared of snakes,” elicits laughter, the image of Hoseok’s comical encounters with the slithering creatures at the zoo playing in everyone’s minds.

Then, in a surprising twist, Hoseok drops the bombshell, “I was contacted to choreograph a music video.”

Holly is filled with gasps and widened eyes as the weight of this unexpected admission settles among the group.

The van is a buzz of whispers and exchanged glances as you and your friends dive into a lively debate, dissecting each of Hoseok’s revelations with an air of camaraderie.

Yoongi’s voice, a steady anchor amid the animated chatter, breaks through as he shares a practical update.

“We’re almost there,” he interjects, his gaze fixed on the winding road.

You catch a glimpse of his focused expression, the contours of his profile bathed in the soft glow of passing streetlights in the dim morning.

“Just stopping by a store first.”

Yoongi continues, his words weaving seamlessly into the ongoing banter.

Seokjin’s laughter erupts like a spontaneous melody, harmonizing with the hum of the van’s engine.

Namjoon chimes in, “But the fear of snakes? That’s so Hobi. Remember that one time at the zoo?” The memory elicits another round of laughter, lightening the atmosphere.

You interject with a thoughtful musing, “The music video thing could also be true.”

Namjoon’s analytical mind chimes in, “But he could also have dated a man, I’m sure he’s mentioned that sometime.” His words ripple through Holly, introducing an element of doubt that swirls around Hoseok’s revelations.

Seokjin’s confident assertion pierces through the deliberations, echoing with finality. “We think the statement with the music video is a lie,” he declares. The collective nodding of heads and the subtle hum of agreement create a shared consensus among you.

The decision is made, and the spotlight now shifts to Hoseok, awaiting his response.

“That one was actually true,” Hoseok’s revelation hangs in the air, a surprising twist that elicits a collective gasp and a wave of laughter.

Your voice, laced with a cocktail of disbelief and genuine curiosity, slices through the air like a finely tuned instrument.

“Hold up, you haven’t actually dated a man?” you query, your eyes widening in a mix of incredulity and intrigue.

“Not yet, but I’m open to the possibility,” he grins, radiating a warmth that rivals the sun itself.

“Wait... Does that mean you’re going to choreograph a music video?” Namjoon slaps him on the shoulder, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, causing him to wince.

Hoseok nods, his expression bright and proud. “They reached out to me before the vacation, and a few days ago, they confirmed that I got the job.”

“Wow!” you exclaim, your face bright and brimming with genuine happiness for your friend.

“That’s absolutely amazing.” Seokjin adds gleefully, his excitement mirroring the collective joy in the van.

“Congrats.” Yoongi adds from the driver’s seat, his voice filled with genuine warmth and a hint of pride for Hoseok’s achievement.

“Thank you.” Hoseok says proudly, launching into enthusiastic explanations about his new job, his eyes lighting up with passion for the upcoming project.

“We’re here.” Yoongi announces, effortlessly maneuvering Holly into a parking spot before cutting off the engine, the sudden silence emphasizing the arrival at your destination.

You all spill out of the van, a lively group on a shared mission, and step into the store, ready to stock up on essentials and treats for the upcoming days of your adventure.

As you step into the store, the unspoken choreography of your group takes over, each member moving with purpose to efficiently tackle the shopping list.

You and Yoongi, armed with a basket and a secret mission for a pregnancy test, navigate the aisles in search of canned goods, weaving through the vibrant array of products. Meanwhile, the rest of the team secures a cart, ready to explore the realms of meat and veggies.

In no time, you and Yoongi expertly pluck a selection of canned goods from the shelves, tossing them into your basket with practiced ease. As you navigate the aisles, hand in hand, your journey takes a deliberate detour to the toiletries and sanity section. There, amidst the array of products, you both zero in on the elusive pregnancy test with the finesse of seasoned shoppers.

As you reach for a package, an unexpected weight settles in your hand, the incongruity of such a small item bearing a significant burden dawning on you.

In this moment, the weight transcends the physical, carrying with it the gravity of what it represents—questions, possibilities, and the potential to alter the course of your relationship with Yoongi.

Locking eyes with Yoongi, you muster the courage to break the news subtly. “Is it okay if I head up to pay for it now? I’d rather keep it between us for now,” you confess, your voice carrying a blend of vulnerability and anticipation.

His response is a reassuring squeeze of your hand, a silent affirmation that he understands. “Of course. Go pay for it, and I’ll round up the others. We’ll join you outside,” he assures, the unspoken promise of solidarity evident in his gaze.

With a tender yet uncertain smile, you part ways from Yoongi, fully aware that within the confines of this unassuming package rests the key to your shared destiny.

You hasten to the cashier, swiftly complete the transaction for the test, and then make your way to Holly, anticipation knotting your stomach as you await the arrival of your friends.

In no time, your friends conclude their shopping, and you assist in loading the van with groceries. Safely tucked away in one of your bags is the pregnancy test, a secret that remains concealed from prying eyes.

Returning to Holly, Yoongi takes the wheel, steering you toward a hidden forest oasis where he skillfully parks, creating a cocoon of tranquility amid the lush surroundings.

As the sun bathes the surroundings in a golden glow, setting up camp in the middle of the day proves delightful, offering ample light to illuminate your tasks. With a symphony of coordination, each of you contributes to unloading Holly and assembling the tent, a well-practiced ritual that transforms the serene landscape into a cozy haven.

While the guys gather around a crackling campfire, savoring light snacks and sipping on cold beers, you find it challenging to fully unwind. The weight of the pregnancy test preoccupies your mind, its presence an insistent reminder. An undercurrent of nervous anticipation builds within you, urging you to take the test and unravel the mystery that has woven itself into the fabric of your thoughts.

You rise from your seat with purpose, drawing a few curious glances, notably from Yoongi, yet determinedly stride towards the van.

Each step feels charged with the weight of the moment, the bag clutched in the comfort of the van holding not just your belongings but the potential key to your future.

Startled, you almost jump at the warm and familiar voice that breaks through your reverie. Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him approaching.

“Can I come with you?” he asks, his presence both surprising and comforting.

His hands find your waist, their warmth and rough texture grounding you in the present. With a reassuring touch, he gently nudges you, calming the swirling thoughts that had momentarily carried you away.

You arch an eyebrow at him, your fingers tightly clenched around the pregnancy test.

“You wanna watch me pee?”

He chuckles at your furrowed expression, gently turning you around to face him. With a tender touch, he brushes stray strands of hair away from your face, locking eyes with you as he nods, a silent reassurance passing between you.

“That’s gross, Yoongi. You don’t have to watch me pee.” You mumble, keeping your voice low to avoid the others catching on.

“If you’re pregnant, watching you pee on a stick will be the least grossest thing I’ll see.” Yoongi teases, a playful glint in his eyes.

Admitting defeat, you concede, and let him accompany you into the serene depths of the forest, away from the prying eyes of your friends and the campsite.

His hand, warm and reassuring, intertwines with yours, a conduit for the palpable love that flows between you. Seeking solace beside a sturdy tree, you carefully retrieve the test, holding it up for closer scrutiny.

“I’m scared.”

You admit, the words almost a whisper in the quiet of the forest. Yoongi’s gaze softens with understanding, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. “I understand,” he reassures, gently lifting your face to meet his gaze, “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

“Okay?” he murmurs, his gentle touch stroking your cheek before he leans in, placing a chaste kiss on your trembling lips. In that simple moment, he somehow eases the fear swirling within you. You nod, a wave of gratitude washing over you for his unwavering presence.

You carefully open the package, extracting the instructions and scrutinizing them. This marks your first experience with a pregnancy test, and you’re determined to ensure every step is executed correctly.

“I should’ve brought a cup or something to collect the pee,” you groan at the inconvenient realization. “Oh well,” you chuckle, pulling down your pants to relieve yourself against the tree. Yoongi efficiently unpacks the test and hands it to you, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

In a million scenarios, you never imagined finding yourself in a forest, peeing on a stick while Yoongi watches. It’s almost laughable, the twists life takes.

Your voice wavers with uncertainty as you pull your pants back up, glancing at the test.

“Can you set a timer? Three minutes.” You request, the seconds ticking away with the weight of anticipation.

Yoongi swiftly retrieves his phone, the soft glow illuminating his focused expression as he expertly sets a timer, the seconds ticking in sync with the nervous beats of your heart.

Restlessly, you tread back and forth, clutching the test in your hand, each step echoing the restless beats of your heart, anxiously awaiting the passage of time.

Yoongi’s reassuring touch envelopes your waist, leading you to another tree, one untouched by your earlier predicament. “Relax,” he murmurs, settling you down against the sturdy trunk, both of you finding solace in its shelter.

A flicker of curiosity brightens your eyes as you break the silence.

“Aren’t you nervous?” You inquire, secretly craving insight into his seemingly calm demeanor, a shared vulnerability between you two.

“Not really.” He shrugs, a nonchalant exterior belying the subtle lean against your shoulder, a silent reassurance echoing louder than words ever could.

Then silence envelops you, a palpable tension that’s not uncomfortable, but rather pregnant with anticipation, each passing second stretching the boundaries of waiting.

As the timer beeps, you gasp, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the sound echoing the suspense that has built up within you.

With trembling hands, you bring the test closer to your face, inspecting the results. Your heart gallops like a herd of wild stallions, and your breath quickens in anticipation.

Are you ready for this revelation?

Ready or not, here it is—just one line.

Not pregnant.

Your heart plummets at the stark results, and you release a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

The sting of tears gathers at the corners of your eyes, and a single teardrop slips free.

Yoongi swiftly brushes away your tears, his touch a comforting blend of warmth and reassurance, his fingers tenderly tracing the curve of your cheek.

“Not the results you were hoping for?”

Yoongi’s voice carries a mixture of empathy and concern, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for the emotions hidden within.

Tears cascade down your cheeks in a torrent, your sobs escaping in uncontrollable waves. With a mix of frustration and despair, you discard the test, shielding your face in trembling hands. “I don’t know,” you confess through the emotional turmoil, your vulnerability laid bare.

He cradles your hands, gently freeing your tear-stained face from its hiding place. Drawing you into a cocoon of warmth, he envelops your trembling form in a tender embrace. His fingertips dance soothingly along your back, a silent promise of unwavering support as you release the weight of your emotions on his shoulder.

“It was negative,” you choke on a stifled cry, “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“You were hoping for a positive.” He murmurs warmly against your ear, sending delightful shivers down your spine. Damn it, he’s right. The test has consumed your thoughts for days, and a part of you had secretly wished for a positive result. Fuck.

“I didn’t realize I wanted that,” you sob, clinging to his embrace as if your very existence depended on it.

“It’s okay, babe. To be honest, I’m a bit disappointed too,” he confesses in a tender voice as you slowly pull away from him, locking eyes.

In his eyes, you search for any sign that he’s just saying that to make you happy, but the determination, love, and care in those beautiful brown eyes tell a different story. He wanted the test to be positive too. He wants to have a kid with you. The thought finally hits you, and you begin to cry again.

You ask in disbelief, your body still shaking with the aftermath of tears, “You want to have a baby with me?”

“Yeah,” he looks at you tenderly again, kissing your tear-stained cheek. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“I mean, we haven’t been together long,” you begin as your crying turns into small sobs, your heart slowing down gradually.

“Babe, we’ve known each other for over ten years. Spent so fucking much time loving each other, without telling the other. It’s not about the time, it’s you.”

At this, tears well up again, a cascade of emotions unleashed by his beautiful words.

Your heart leaps and somersaults because, damn it, he’s right. Maybe you haven’t been ‘officially’ together for that long, but the bond you share spans years. It feels natural, like the coming together of two souls that have known each other intimately for decades.

As he speaks, his words paint a vision of a future you never dared to imagine.

“I want kids in the future, and I want them with you,” he declares, his sincerity echoing through the forest. You sob at the beauty of his words, your heart swelling with emotion.

“You’ll be an awesome and fearless mom. You’re strong, incredible, and your heart is so big and full of love,” he continues, each compliment a brushstroke in the portrait of your relationship.

“With you, I want everything. Why waste any more time?” he asks, his soft chuckle carrying the weight of a promise for a future filled with love and possibility.

In the wake of his heartfelt confession, you’re overwhelmed by the cascade of loving and wonderful words that have poured from his lips. You yearn for everything he’s just described, and the intensity of your desire propels you into a kiss that speaks volumes.

It’s not just a simple meeting of lips; it’s a fervent exploration, a hunger for all of him.

The kiss is messy, tears and saliva mingling to create a salty sweetness on your tongues. Yet, in this raw and unfiltered moment, you find solace because, for the first time, you’re not just kissing; you’re tasting the promise of a shared future.

“Damn. I want that too.”

Your moan escapes into his mouth, a symphony of pleasure, as your hands entwine in his long hair, pulling with an urgency that draws a deep groan from him, echoing in the intimate space of your kiss.

As you softly pull away, the realization hits that the tears have ceased, replaced by a new and electric tension. A surge of desire courses through you, prompting you to grind your body against his, teasing and stoking the flames of arousal that now dance between you.

“What does this mean?”

You ask, the taste of salt still lingering on your lips as you lick them. The remnants of your earlier mood dissipate, making room for a lighter and happier atmosphere.

“That I’ll fuck you raw,” he smirks at you, his eyes turning dark with desire.

“Make you nice and round.” he strokes your stomach before cupping your clothed core.

You release a sultry moan, “Fuck, yes.”

You stroll alongside Yoongi, hand in hand, your cheeks likely marked with the remnants of tears, yet you’re beaming, the joy evident. With Yoongi by your side, nothing else holds significance.

As you return to your friends, you catch the intrigued glances they shoot your way, a silent curiosity lingering in the air, though no words are exchanged.

You settle into the chair with Yoongi, the contours of his lap perfectly accommodating your form as you nuzzle your head against his chest, finding solace in the rhythmic beat of his heart.

You feel the weight of curious eyes on you, a silent conversation unfolding in their gazes, laden with unspoken words yearning to break free.

“We’re thinking about heading home tomorrow.” Hoseok starts, his voice carrying a subtle air of decision with each sip of his beer.

“So you can savor a few days of solitude before your vacation bids farewell.” Namjoon chimes in, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

You exchange glances with him and offer a gentle, appreciative smile. Your heart swells with gratitude for the sweetness and thoughtfulness your friends never fail to show.

Seokjin chimes in with a smile, “I miss my girlfriend too.”

“We’ll drive you to the station tomorrow.” Yoongi says, his hands intertwining with yours, a gesture that speaks volumes of comfort and support.

As the night unfolds, a cascade of laughter and clinking beer bottles paints the scene. Hoseok, with his infectious energy, pulls you into a dance, and the rhythm of the music becomes the soundtrack to a night filled with camaraderie and unforgettable moments. Laughter echoes around the campfire, weaving together a tapestry of joy that lingers in the memories of friendship.

“Friday at the bar, don’t be late!”

Hoseok’s enthusiasm resonates in his voice as he envelops you in a warm, anticipatory hug. Then, he turns his exuberance towards Yoongi, squeezing him tightly, a bear hug that elicits a gruff grunt from your usually composed boyfriend.

“Absolutely, can’t wait for the gang to reunite!” Your words ring with genuine joy as you share heartfelt hugs with Namjoon and Seokjin. Even Yoongi, typically reserved, offers reluctant but sincere goodbyes in the form of tight hugs.

As their figures gradually blend into the bustling station crowd, you continue waving, the distance adding a bittersweet tinge to your farewell. The echoes of laughter and shared moments linger, fading with each step they take, leaving you with a mix of nostalgia and anticipation for the next reunion.

“What should we do now? So much alone time.”

Yoongi’s voice, soft and filled with the promise of undisturbed moments, lingers in the air as you both face the van. The question carries the weight of endless possibilities, a canvas awaiting the strokes of your shared desires in the quietude of alone time.

As you both enter Holly, the air crackles with a newfound anticipation. Leaning into Yoongi’s side, you murmur your plan, your words a bold invitation that sets the atmosphere ablaze.

“You drive us back to our campsite,” you start, the door closing behind you, “and then I’ll fuck you senseless.”

Yoongi chuckles, the sound a tempting melody in response to your boldness and the unmistakable glint of desire in your eyes. “Bossy,” he teases, the word laced with a promise of playful surrender.

As he ignites the engine, the subtle purr of the vehicle syncs with the quiet hum of anticipation. Driving back to your campsite, the warmth of your touch on his thigh acts as a silent yet palpable connection, a prelude to the intimacy awaiting both of you.

With Holly’s engine silenced, you pounce on him, the urgency in the air charging the atmosphere. Your hands glide up his thigh, boldly exploring the terrain beneath the fabric. A daring grip on his clothed dick elicits a soft, impassioned moan, your name escaping his lips like a whispered prayer.

“Impatient much?”

He chuckles, the sound a harmonious melody to the rhythm of your teasing palm. Your deliberate touch prompts him to throw his head back against the headrest, surrendering to the escalating desire coursing through every fiber of his being.

“Yeah, I’m already so wet. I just want you inside me, Yoon.”

Your words, laced with a sense of urgency and desire, spill out as you hastily discard both of your pants and underwear, the anticipation building in the air like an electric charge.

“Shit,” he mutters, closing his eyes, savoring a soft breath as you unzip his pants. With his assistance, you deftly pull down both his boxers and pants, leaving them pooled at his knees.

Without hesitation, you straddle him. The confines of the front seat are a bit tight, creating an intimate space that’s not entirely uncomfortable, but charged with anticipation and lust.

His arousal is evident, and you tease him by grinding your core against his throbbing length. The dual response, a twitch and a moan, sends shivers down your spine. The symphony of his pleasure fuels your desire, and you savor every intoxicating sound escaping his lips.

With a confident grip, you guide his dick to your eager entrance, then descend upon him in one seamless motion. The delicious stretch and the raw sensation, liberated from the confines of a condom, draw a heartfelt exclamation.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you gasp, relishing the intimate connection that electrifies the air.

His husky voice, laced with desire, breathes out admiration, “Damn, you’re so tight, taking me so well.’” His hands confidently find your hips, anchoring themselves in a rhythm that mirrors the growing intensity between you.

Your movements become a rhythm of urgency, bouncing in his lap with a fervor that sets a relentless pace from the very beginning. The sensation of fullness overwhelms you, and the impending climax rushes towards you like a tidal wave.

Damn it, the pleasure is so exquisite, so consuming, that you can’t help but surrender to its intoxicating embrace.

Your breath comes in furious pants, a symphony of desire echoing in the air. Fingers entwined in his hair, you tug hard, prompting a hiss of pain from him as you practically impale yourself on his cock.

“Fuck!” The expletive escapes your lips in a primal scream, a raw expression of the overwhelming pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being.

Yoongi’s hold on your hips tightens, his movements synchronized with yours, creating a rhythm that feels like a shared heartbeat between you. With a firm grip, he guides your ascent and descent, an intimate dance of passion and connection.

“Babe,” he pants, his gaze locking onto yours with hooded eyes. “I won’t last much longer.”

You pant and moan his name, “Same here.”

You roll your hips over his, desperately seeking release, while one of your hands trails down to your clit, vigorously rubbing it.

With a few intense strokes on your clit, a surge of pleasure radiates from your core, and you feel a release building up. You let out a breathless moan, calling his name as your vision momentarily blurs. As your body succumbs to the waves of ecstasy, Yoongi takes control, guiding you up and down by your hips, plunging into you with fervor, seamlessly melding with the throes of your orgasm.

Your fingers thread through his hair, gripping and releasing in a rhythm matching the intensity of your movements. With each passionate kiss to his neck, you leave behind a trail of bites that elicit a symphony of pleasurable sounds from him, creating a delicious melody of desire beneath you.

Your name escapes his lips like a fervent prayer, a raw confession of imminent release as he gasps, “Fuck, I’m gonna come, babe,” the words laced with urgency and desire.

In the throes of pleasure, you hiss, “Fill me up, Yoon,” your moan a seductive melody as you sink down on him again, deliberately clenching your walls around him.

“Shit!” he grunts, his release flooding into your welcoming warm pussy.

“You’re absolutely amazing, babe,” he says, his voice dripping with so much love that it envelops you like a warm embrace, making you feel like you could swim in its depths.

“As are you, Yoongi.” You murmur into his ear, wrapping him in a big and warm hug, your breath steadying against the curve of his ear.

You make a conscious effort to savor every fleeting moment of these last few days of your trip, acutely aware that the return to your mundane daily lives is inevitable.

Your period has finally made its appearance, adding a bit of a damper to your spirits and contributing to your already sour mood, but you try not to dwell on it.

You embark on what feels like a magical ‘date,’ where the warmth of a campfire, the sizzling sounds of grilling, and the joy of each other’s company create a perfect, intimate evening in the cocoon of your campsite.

In the familiar rhythm of your camping routine, Yoongi takes the lead at the grill, but tonight, the dance of preparing the meat and chopping vegetables becomes a shared symphony. Surrounded by the serene seclusion of the forest, the campfire’s glow paints a warm ambiance on your faces, casting playful shadows that dance and flicker.

As you skillfully turn the vegetables over the crackling flames, a wistful sigh escapes your lips. “I’m going to miss this when we get back home.”

“We can always go camping on the weekends,” his voice, tinged with a hint of nostalgia, carries the weight of the inevitable return to reality. Yet, his smile, soft and bittersweet, speaks volumes of the preciousness he finds in the present, a moment cocooned in the dancing flames and the quiet murmur of the forest.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” your smile mirrors the warmth of the flickering flames, an unspoken promise to seize the simple joys of weekends and the solace found under the stars.

“What are we gonna do when we get back home?”

As the flames dance, casting a glow on your contemplative expression, you can’t help but sigh, the question lingering in the air like the smoke from the crackling fire. Poking at a charred vegetable in playful defeat, you turn to Yoongi, a mix of curiosity and anticipation in your eyes, as if the answer lies in the shadows painted by the dancing flames.

His gaze locks with yours, a quizzical expression playing on his features.

“What do you mean?” He asks, and you can sense the curiosity dancing in his eyes, eager to unravel the depths of your thoughts.

As you voice the concerns lingering in your mind, your eyes search his face for a glimpse of understanding.

“How are we going to make it work, Yoongi? We’re both workaholics.” You sigh, a smile playing on your lips, a mix of worry and anticipation painting your expression as you contemplate the intricate puzzle of your relationship.

His eyes flicker with a thoughtful gleam as he ponders your question, a soft ‘ah’ escaping his lips, carrying with it the weight of consideration and the promise of an honest response.

With a sigh, you add, “And I don’t want our relationship to fail,” as you skillfully pull the vegetables off the fire, their sizzling sounds a backdrop to the sincerity in your voice. The tray in your hands becomes a vessel for both grilled sustenance and the weight of your heartfelt words.

Yoongi expertly turns the sizzling meat, his eyes focused on the grill as he addresses your concerns.

“First off, I don’t think it’ll fail,” he reassures, the aroma of barbecue blending with the warmth in his words. “We don’t have to see each other every day, although I’d like that very much. You are always welcome in my home or at the garage anytime. And we can do stuff on the weekends,” he adds with a hopeful voice, his smile matching the flickering flames as he places the perfectly grilled meat in a clean tray.

Your eyes light up with enthusiasm. “That sounds nice,” you respond eagerly, reaching for two plates as the prospect of a shared future with Yoongi takes on a tangible, comforting shape.

“I just hope we can make it work.” You express with a hopeful lilt in your voice, the sincerity of your desire for a future with Yoongi shining through.

“I know we can.” He reassures you, his voice carrying a quiet confidence that matches the unwavering belief in your love.

Together, you savor each bite, the conversation flowing effortlessly between dreams of future destinations, the nuances of work, and the tapestry of life itself.

As dawn unfurls its radiant hues, you embark on an early morning hike through the forest, the sun casting golden ribbons through the foliage. The breathtaking spectacle of the sunrise filtering through the trees paints a memory you know will linger, a vivid scene etched in your mind, a treasure to carry with you as you reluctantly prepare to drive home later in the evening.

Hand in hand with Yoongi, you traverse the winding trails, enveloped in a comforting silence that needs no words. The stillness is a serene companion, allowing you to immerse yourselves in the natural symphony of your morning hike—the heady scents of the forest filling your noses, and the ethereal dance of dewy fog casting a mystical spell before you.

Returning from your invigorating hike as the sun climbs the sky, the lure of a sizzling farewell lunch beckons.

Determined to make the most of your remaining moments in this woodland haven, you opt to ignite the grill one last time, infusing the air with the savory aroma of grilling meat and vegetables before bidding adieu to the serenity of the forest.

The atmosphere takes a bittersweet turn, the air thick with a sense of impending departure. Yoongi tends to the grill, the sizzle of meat a poignant soundtrack to your shared melancholy.

You attempt to uplift the mood, filling the air with music that usually brings joy, but its lively notes seem to echo the underlying sadness that has settled between you two. As the speakers play on, both of you navigate the delicate dance between creating a facade of happiness and the somber reality of impending separation, etching the moment with shared glances that speak volumes.

“I don’t want to leave.” You force a laugh, the sound devoid of any genuine mirth. It resonates with an emptiness, a profound hollowness that mirrors the depth of your reluctance to part ways with this place.

“I know. Me neither. But we both have work tomorrow.” Yoongi confesses with a sigh, as if attempting to absorb every detail of this moment in nature. The bittersweet truth hangs in the air, a poignant reminder that, despite parting now, the prospect of future camping trips offers a glimmer of solace.

“It sucks.” You declare, your chopsticks attacking the innocent food on your plate as if it were the source of your frustration. A heavy exhale follows, a gust of annoyance and disappointment that echoes your sentiments louder than words ever could.

In the aftermath of your meal, a heavy silence descends as you both quietly consume the last moments of your enchanted getaway. Once the plates are cleared, a symphony of clinks and clatters follows as you meticulously dismantle the campsite and tidy up the van.

Each fold of the bed, every item stowed away, feels like sealing away a fragment of the magic you’ve experienced.

As you pack with a heavy heart, the memories of this time resonate within you, a bittersweet melody. This retreat has been more than a mere escape; it’s been a rejuvenating balm for your weary soul.

And unexpectedly, amid the rustling leaves and crackling campfire, you discovered more than tranquility—you got Yoongi, a devoted and caring partner who has etched himself into the canvas of your heart more than before.

As the final pieces are carefully stowed away, Yoongi’s voice breaks the silence, “Let’s head home.”

Casting a wistful glance back at the forest, you feel a twinge of longing, realizing just how much you’ll miss this tranquil sanctuary. With a mix of reluctance and anticipation, you join Yoongi in Holly.

“I’m ready,” you declare, a determined spark in your eyes.

“Let’s go.” You add, as if ushering in a new chapter, the engine’s hum signaling both an end and a beginning.

In the whirlwind of days since Yoongi bid you farewell at your apartment, work has morphed into a chaotic dance of demands. Despite the relentless pace, your passion for your job propels you forward, a driving force pushing you through the challenges with unwavering determination.

The ache of missing Yoongi has become a relentless companion, one that tightens its grip especially during the chaotic intervals between your demanding job tasks. In the relentless storm of work, the absence of Yoongi weighs heavy on your heart.

The saving grace amid the chaos is the lifeline of texts exchanged during your fleeting breaks—a comforting escape when the demands of your job threaten to engulf you completely.

Yoongi has been engulfed in a torrent of tasks himself, with a queue of eager customers awaiting the magic touch of his expertise. The relentless stream of demands has formed an impenetrable barrier, rendering it impossible for you to reunite with him since that bittersweet moment he dropped you off.

Exhausted from a taxing day at work—navigating irate customers and orchestrating the intricate dance of formulating next year’s marketing strategy—you feel the weariness etched into every fiber of your being.

Yet, fueled by a deep longing to be with Yoongi, you summon the last reserves of your energy and embark on a drive to his garage.

The brief journey from your workplace to Yoongi’s garage unfolds in a mere 15 minutes, the streets whispering tales of anticipation beneath the tires of your car.

You enter through the door, finding Yoongi engaged in conversation with a client. A warm smile graces your lips as you exchange pleasantries. Yoongi, visibly taken aback by your unexpected visit, manages a surprised expression. Making your way to a cozy corner at the back of the garage, you settle into a small lounge area with a plush couch and a quaint table – a designated spot for clients to wait while Yoongi tends to their automotive needs.

The plushness of the couch cradles your body, its soft embrace a welcome comfort. You surrender to its inviting texture, your eyes drifting lazily downward as relaxation takes hold.

In the gentle embrace of slumber, time becomes a blur, and you awaken to a tender caress on your cheek. A radiant gummy smile and affectionate eyes welcome you back to consciousness.

“You didn’t have to make the trip if you’re exhausted, love.” He remarks with a soft chuckle, playfully poking your nose.

“I couldn’t wait to see you.” You admit with a playful pout, rising from the couch. Yoongi chuckles at your expression, then turns back to the car he was tending to while you napped.

You pull your gaze away from Yoongi’s enticing figure, a mischievous spark in your eyes. His black coveralls, stained with a mix of grease and oil, only seem to enhance his rugged appeal. The plain white shirt beneath, now more of an art canvas of his work, adds an unexpected allure. Unable to contain the fire building within, you confess, “You look so damn sexy in those black coveralls.”

His hair is tousled, as though his hands have navigated through it in moments of frustration. A subtle hint of anticipation makes you unconsciously lick your lips, and with deliberate steps, you close the distance between you.

Yoongi’s laughter resonates through the garage as he continues working beneath the hood of a sleek red car. Unconcerned about the specifics of the make or model, you saunter over, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Playfully, you grab hold of the belt loops on his coveralls, tugging him closer, his frame melding into yours with an enticing collision of desire.

A husky grunt escapes him, “I’m filthy, babe,” he warns, yet he willingly surrenders to the allure of your touch, leaning into the intimacy that lingers between you.

“I couldn’t care less.”

You declare boldly, diving in for a kiss that speaks volumes of your longing. Your hands venture southward, seizing the firm curve of his ass, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him.

Abandoning his tools, he seizes your cheeks, intensifying the kiss with a hunger that mirrors a man starved for the taste of your touch.

“I missed you so much.” He breathes as he pulls away, gazing at you with a tender intensity in his eyes.

“Me too. Yoongi, I want you.” You plead, your hands tracing the contours of his body until they rest on his chest, where the steady beat of his heart becomes the rhythm to which your desires dance.

“Fuck. Now?”

He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled hair, and you bite your lip, nodding with eyes that plead for the immediacy of desire.

“You’re so needy. I love it.” He murmurs before diving back into your mouth, a breathless kiss igniting between you. His hands find your ass, squeezing it possessively, eliciting a moan that vibrates through your bodies.

He guides you toward a navy car, and as your legs meet the cool hood, he gently eases you down onto it. The surface sends a shiver in your spine, but the contrasting warmth of arousal floods your senses, creating a delicious tension in you.

You meet his gaze, finding his eyes already dilated and hooded, a hungry anticipation shimmering within them, ready to consume you whole.

His hungry gaze traces every curve of your body, and you catch the subtle motion of his tongue moistening his lips, a clear sign of the anticipation building within him.

He skillfully slips off your shoes, smoothly unzips your pants, and lets them cascade down your body, the fabric whispering against your skin before landing in an eager heap on the floor.

You draw your legs up, finding a perch on the sleek hood of the car, a tantalizing contrast of warmth against the cool metal that sends a shiver of anticipation through your body.

You part your legs, a silent invitation beckoning him to immerse himself in the feast that awaits, an unspoken promise lingering in the air.

“Damn. I can already see how wet you are, fuck,” he remarks, his gaze lingering on your wet panties before slowly dragging them down to join your pants on the floor.

His rough and calloused hands explore the warmth of your pussy, gently teasing your clit, eliciting a moan of pleasure from you. “Such a perfect little pussy. All mine,” his voice drips with possessiveness, sending a delicious shiver down your spine as a surge of lust courses through your body.

He gracefully drops to his knees, and in an electrifying moment, his warm, skilled mouth claims your pussy, causing an immediate arch in your back as waves of pleasure surge through your body.

His tongue dances expertly over your sensitive folds, collecting the intoxicating essence of your arousal, each stroke sending tremors of pleasure through your core.

“Fuck, Yoongi.”

Passion courses through you, and you moan uncontrollably, your hands tangling in Yoongi’s hair as you pull, eliciting a deep groan from him, sending shivers of desire through your entire being.

The scenery is nothing short of breathtaking, a sinful feast for the eyes. As he gazes at you, those once deep brown eyes now bordering on black, you can’t help but feel a magnetic pull, an intensity that sets your heart ablaze.

His relentless suction is met with the playful dance of his tongue, teasingly exploring the depths of your pussy. The sensation is so intense that your eyes involuntarily roll to the back of your head, lost in the ecstasy of the moment.

“If you continue with that sinful tongue, I won’t be able to hold back much longer,” you pant above him, and you can practically feel the wicked smirk against your sensitive folds.

His nose occasionally brushes against your sensitive clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through your body, and you can feel yourself going feral with an overwhelming surge of arousal.

He skillfully switches it up, his hot mouth returning to your throbbing clit as two of his fingers expertly delve into your core. Your back arches instinctively, and you can’t help but moan his name, breathlessly exclaiming, “Shit, Yoongi!”

With a swift and deliberate motion, he thrusts his two fingers into you at a relentless pace, unerringly targeting your sweet spot from the very outset.

Sensations intensify; your clit pulsates with an insistent rhythm, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with each passing second. Every breath quickens, and it feels like you’re on the verge of snapping at any given moment.

“Shit, I’m coming!”

You pant, your body thrashing above him, arching in the throes of ecstasy. A ringing noise echoes in your ears as he continues to lick you through the waves of your orgasm. When he finally pulls away, you find yourself instinctively closing your legs around him, overwhelmed by the lingering sensations of pleasure.

“Fucking hell, Yoongi. You are incredible with your mouth. Come here and give me a kiss.”

You yank him up by his shirt and draw him in for a passionate kiss. You can taste the remnants of your essence on his lips, but you don’t mind.

He moans into your mouth and abruptly pulls away, fixing you with a gaze filled with both need and unbridled lust.

He tugs at your shirt, demanding, “This. Off.”

Without hesitation, you comply, raising your arms for him to swiftly pull it over your head and drop it to the floor. Now seated on the hood of the car, clad only in your bra, you’re relieved to find that the metal beneath you has warmed, erasing any lingering chill.

He playfully gropes your breasts, his eyes smoldering with desire.

“Off with this too,” he commands, a hunger evident in his voice.

You unclasp your bra, letting it fall down the car to the floor. Yoongi hisses as he takes in your fully naked body, “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

His words pierce through you, igniting a fire within, and you sense your nipples responding to his gaze, hardening with a subtle ache.

“Shit.” An involuntary moan escapes your lips, your body ablaze with sensation and desire.

“Why am I the only one naked again?” You chuckle seductively, fingers teasingly pulling at his coveralls.

You strip away his coveralls, letting them cascade to a pool at his feet. Now free from the constraints of it, he leans in for another intoxicating kiss, the air charged with the promise of desire.

You notice the unmistakable outline of his dick through his boxers, and you teasingly pull away, whispering with a seductive smirk, “Those need to go.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, swiftly dragging the fabric down his legs to join the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You eagerly tug at his shirt, mirroring the way he assisted you earlier, revealing the contours of his body free from the constraints of the grease-stained fabric.

You glide your hands over his sculpted chest, tracing the lines of his toned torso and the softness of his tummy, evoking a light chuckle from him. “Damn, you’re irresistible,” you moan. “Every inch of you, I love.” Your whispered words in his ear accompany a firm grasp on his throbbing cock, teasing it with a few playful strokes.

He seizes your breasts, skillfully rolling a sensitive nipple between his fingers, eliciting a sensual moan of pleasure from your lips.

He gently guides you back, allowing your hair to cascade around your face, creating a frame that accentuates the desire etched in your features.

As he explores the curves of your body with one hand, the other skillfully strokes his dick, aligning himself with the heat of your eager folds.

Your patience wearing thin, you feel his tantalizing cock on your folds, gathering traces of your essence. The plea escapes your lips, “Please, just fuck me already.”

He indulges in a lustful chuckle, his words dripping with desire, “So needy and impatient.”

He glides into your warmth with a single, seamless thrust, reaching the hilt effortlessly. A moan of pleasure escapes your lips, savoring the exquisite sensation of how perfectly he stretches you.

He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a firm grip on your hips. The car sways and rocks in sync with each powerful thrust, creating a symphony of passion and movement.

The intensity builds, and you gasp, questioning between pants, “The car’s in park, right?” as he unerringly targets your sweet spot, delivering each stroke with precision and pleasure.

He chuckles between breaths, his laughter a sensual melody in the air, “Yeah, it’s not going anywhere.”

Lost in the ecstasy, unsure where to anchor yourself, your hands find solace on his strong arms, gripping tightly as if to merge with the intensity of the moment.

As he relentlessly pounds into you, your intoxicating moans harmonize with the rhythm, your velvet walls clenching around him, eliciting a hiss from his lips. “You’re always so damn tight,” he growls, the raw desire in his voice echoing the fervor of your entwined bodies.

“Hey, Yoongi,” caught off guard, you hear a familiar voice calling Yoongi’s name from behind. Your heart races, realizing it’s too late to shield yourself from the waves of embarrassment flooding over you. Mortification takes hold, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

“I wanted to see if you were done with my car.” Jungkook’s voice startles you, and as you turn, you’re met with wide-eyed disbelief written all over his face. He stands not far away, his eyes seemingly on the verge of popping out of their sockets. With a gaping mouth, he appears utterly speechless.

“Ah–, Jungkook…” caught in a scandalous embrace with Yoongi, the sudden intrusion of Jungkook startles a moan from your lips. Your eyes lock with his, and as Yoongi continues his relentless pace, the intensity of Jungkook’s unwavering gaze heightens the illicit thrill.

Your body responds, walls clenching around Yoongi, a confusing mixture of embarrassment and arousal coursing through you.

Why isn’t Jungkook looking away?

And why, against all logic, does it only turn you on even more? Fuck.

As the symphony of primal sounds, a mixture of Yoongi’s guttural groans and the rhythmic slapping noises, reverberates through the garage, Jungkook finally seems to snap out of his trance.

“Fucking shit, I’m so sorry!”

Fumbling for apologies, Jungkook hastily covers his eyes and spins around, as if attempting to erase the explicit scene he’s unintentionally stumbled upon.

“I’ll come back later!” He shouts, almost sprinting out of the garage, leaving an awkward air lingering in his wake.

Yoongi’s powerful thrusts continue, unyielding. He leans down, his intense gaze fixating on your face. His voice, low and venomous, slices through the heated air, commanding, “Never moan another man’s name again,” as if marking his territory with each impassioned word.

In the absence of your response, his hands assertively claim your breasts, skillfully pinching both nipples. An involuntary twist of pain courses through you, a visceral reaction to his unrelenting touch.

“Did you hear me?”

His voice cuts through the charged air, a stern demand echoing in the garage, his eyes eclipsed by a profound intensity that demands your attention.

“Fuck! Yes! I won’t do it again!”

In a breathless chorus of affirmation, you surrender, the raw urgency in your voice harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of your panting breaths as the impending release surges through you.

With a final series of primal thrusts, he withdraws from the depths of your pussy, leaving you tingling, breathless and confused.

“Follow me,” his command hangs in the air, and with a firm yet gentle pull, he guides you off the car and onto your unsteady feet.

As he guides you through the garage, both of you naked and exposed, you can’t help but inquire breathlessly, “Should we lock the door?”

He smirks, his voice a low rasp as you arrive at his office.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He declares, the audacity in his gaze intensifying. “Seems like you like being watched. Just like in the forest, huh? Don’t think I didn’t feel you clench around me as Jungkook watched you get fucked.”

With purpose, he propels you toward the couch in his office, ruthlessly clearing half of its contents to the floor. Pillows and discarded clothes cascade, creating a scattered pool at your feet.

In a low, demanding tone, he orders, “On all fours. Couch. Now.”

As you hasten to comply, he positions himself just behind you, prompting a swift bend on his firm couch. The assertive grip on your ass intensifies, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m going to fuck a baby into you.”

He pants, desire thick in his voice as he strokes his dick, aligning once more with your eager pussy. “Make you nice and round, babe,” he grunts, the raw intensity of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure through you as he effortlessly slips back into the depth of your core.

“Fuck!” The sensation is even more constricting than before, and the provocative baby talk is pushing you to the edge. It’s utterly sinful, igniting something primal within you.

He pins you forcefully against the unforgiving couch, driving your head down, each powerful thrust causing it to shift and creak in protest, mirroring the intensity of your entwined passion.

Your senses are on the verge of overload, the relentless pleasure almost too much to bear. Thoughts dissolve into a blissful haze, and all that remains is the exquisite sensation of him sliding perfectly between your thighs.

“I bet you’ll look so incredible carrying our baby,” he pants, his grip tightening on a makeshift ponytail of your hair as he pulls you upwards with a low moan.

“Fuck!”

You arch your back, relishing the delicious pull on your scalp that sends electrifying shivers down your spine.

You’re completely lost, a symphony of pants and moans escaping your lips. All you can do is surrender to the overwhelming sensation of his incredible thrusts.

His fingers leave a fiery trail as they wander from your hair to one of your breasts, teasingly groping. “Damn, your breasts will get bigger too,” he breathes, his words a sultry promise echoing in the heated air.

“Though I like them just as they are.” He murmurs in rhythm with a punctuated thrust, his voice a seductive melody harmonizing with the passionate dance between you.

At the sound of his words, a surge of desire courses through you, causing your walls to instinctively clench around him. He responds with a sharp intake of breath, a symphony of pleasure echoing in the intimate space between you.

“You like this, don’t you?”

His voice, low and sultry, fills the room as he pulls on your hair once more, a tantalizing twist that sends a shiver down your spine. A subtle burn lingers, a delicious reminder of the electrifying sensations between you.

His name escapes your lips in a breathless moan of agreement, words failing to convey the intensity of the moment.

As he relinquishes his grip on your hair and breasts, his hands now firmly anchored on your hips, he rasps, “You look forward to being all puffy and swollen, don’t you?”

His voice carries a seductive promise that sends shivers down your spine.

As the peak of pleasure beckons, the intoxicating blend of his presence within you and his lascivious words has you teetering on the edge. It’s as if the mere fusion of his dick in your pussy and the erotic cadence of his dirty words might propel you into climax without any further touch.

Attempting to vocalize your pleasure, a choked moan escapes your lips, a visceral symphony echoing the tightening coil of your body.

As he relentlessly thrusts, plunging into the depths of your pussy, he smirks and provocatively questions, “Are you coming, babe?”

In a fervor, you attempt to nod, your head resting down on the couch, eyes tightly shut, and hands clenched in the grip of pleasure.

His voice rumbles with desire as he commands, “Come on my dick,” his grip on your hips tightening, forcefully pulling you onto him, the unmistakable sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through his office.

You release the tightly wound coil within you, and a warm flood of your essence envelops his pulsating dick. Colors dance before your eyes, a vivid symphony of sensations, as he, too, begins the pursuit of his own intoxicating climax.

His fervent praise echoes through the room as your moans and pants harmonize with the symphony of pleasure.

“Shit, you feel so good.” His words, like a sultry melody, intensify the rhythm of ecstasy.

His raspy voice, saturated with pleasure, reverberates in the air as he relentlessly delves deep, bringing you to the brink. “Almost there, babe,” the promise of climax hangs in the room, each thrust a pulsating step toward an imminent release.

His fingers carve ephemeral imprints into the canvas of your hips, a testament to the intensity of his grip. With a primal and forceful thrust, he spills into you, a guttural exclamation escaping his lips, “Fucking shit!”

He persists in his rhythmic thrusts, a seamless dance that continues for what feels like an eternity. The symphony of heavy panting fills the air, a harmonious testament to the intoxicating pleasure enveloping both of you.

As he tenderly withdraws from the embrace of your walls, a bittersweet ache lingers.

The ebbing warmth of his departure leaves a void, and you sense the telltale trickle of his semen tracing a tantalizing path down your trembling thighs. His appreciative hisses and groans echo the shared intimacy, turning the aftermath into a mosaic of shared passion.

With a resounding smack, he playfully ignites the fire beneath your skin, “You look so hot like this,” he remarks, his words carrying a teasing heat that matches the fiery imprint on your ass.

With a mischievous twirl, you shake your ass provocatively, a sassy smirk dancing on your lips, “Don’t I always look hot?”

He chuckles at your brattiness, delivering another firm slap to your ass, “Always, and I can’t get enough of you.”

You finally turn around, sitting down on the couch, to face him, licking your lips with a mischievous glint in your eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Yoongi,” your voice filled with a mix of passion and sincerity that leaves no room for doubt.

He smiles, his touch tracing a delicate path along your cheek, “Fuck, I love you too, babe,” his words carrying the weight of a thousand emotions, a confession that lingers in the air like a sweet promise.

Love saturates the atmosphere, wrapping around you both so tightly that the soft rumble from your stomach escapes like a playful secret, painting a grin on his already handsome face.

Your stomach protests again with a subtle growl, and he chuckles, the sound like a melody blending with the tender kiss he places on your lips.

“Hungry, babe?” he teases, the warmth of his laughter echoing the affection in the air.

Amidst the afterglow, you share a playful chuckle, the joyous sound filling the room.

“Yes, I’m starving,” you confess, relishing the delightful nakedness and the shared intimacy of the moment.

As the Friday sun dips below the city skyline, a wave of contentment washes over you.

Work today was surprisingly pleasant, but what truly fuels your excitement is the anticipation of reuniting with your friends at the bar later. The prospect of laughter and camaraderie lights up your evening horizon.

After a demanding day at work, you sought refuge in the comforting embrace of Yoongi’s home. The soft sanctuary of his sheets cradles you, offering solace and a much-needed respite from the challenges of the day.

As you reluctantly peel yourself away from the embrace of the bed, a tangle of limbs and sheets left in the wake of a time filled with passion, you’re greeted by the stark reality of time ticking away. Your naked form, a canvas marked by the shared intensity, moves with purpose. In the urgency to locate your scattered clothes, a playful smile dances on your lips.

“We have to get ready now, or else Hoseok will kill us if we’re late!”

“We’ll make it,” his laughter, a melodic assurance, echoes through the room as you engage in a hasty scavenger hunt for the garments that will shield your modesty.

Triumphantly seizing the clothes, there’s a playful finesse to your actions as you toss his attire in his direction, a comical dance of urgency and amusement.

With effortless efficiency, you transform from the cozy intimacy of his home to the bustling anticipation of the cityscape. Your steps echo determination, a rhythm set by the pulse of the impending night. Brisk and purposeful, you navigate the urban terrain, a seamless transition from the quiet haven of his house to the lively rhythm of the city streets.

The search for a bus becomes a quest, an adventure laced with the promise of vibrant encounters awaiting you in the heart of the metropolis.

Entwined in the lively hum of the crowded bus, you and Yoongi carve out a cozy haven amidst the kaleidoscope of humanity. Hand in hand, your fingers dance in silent symphony, finding solace in the familiar warmth of each other’s touch. With your head nestled on his shoulders, you embark on the journey to the bar to meet up with your friends.

As you step into the lively ambiance of the bar, the infectious melody of your friends’ laughter orchestrates a beacon, guiding you unerringly to their gathering. Their exuberant joy reverberates in the air, making them a vibrant constellation impossible to overlook amidst the bustling backdrop of the bar’s chatter and clinking glasses.

“Hi,” you join the lively cluster of your friends with a warm greeting, sliding seamlessly into the open space next to Jungkook, who graciously makes room for both you and Yoongi.

A subtle, rosy hue paints Jungkook’s cheeks a bright red, mirroring the flush that graces your own face as you and he share a shy glance, deliberately sidestepping prolonged eye contact in the midst of the gathering.

“You’re late,” Hoseok’s voice carries a mockingly stern tone as he playfully rolls his eyes at your belated entrance, his knowing gaze signaling that he’s well aware of the delightful reason behind your tardiness.

“Hey,” a collective greeting resonates from the group, their eyes discreetly flickering between you and Yoongi, deliberately sidestepping Hoseok’s playful comment.

Your warm smile encompasses the group as you inquire, “How have you all been?”

Your eyes sweep across each face, a genuine affection evident, and you add, “I’ve missed you.”

Namjoon passes a pair of beers your way, and with a subtle gesture, you gracefully direct yours to Yoongi, ensuring he has two. Opting for a bottle of water, your choice doesn’t escape Namjoon’s notice, though he maintains a thoughtful silence.

Jungkook, still blushing beside you, stammers out, “It’s going well. I’ve landed more modeling gigs, and some are even international!” He chirps with infectious happiness, sharing his success with the group.

“Wow, that’s incredible, Kook,” you pat him on the shoulders, your touch conveying genuine pride and admiration. Feeling him tense beneath your hand, you can’t help but marvel at how he’s fearlessly pursued his dreams.

“The trip was amazing; I actually got contacted because of the pictures I uploaded to my Instagram,” he boasts with pride, and the table erupts in cheers. Everyone is genuinely happy for him, celebrating his success.

You can’t help but notice his still lingering blush and how he subtly avoids making eye contact with you.

You shift your gaze to Hoseok, who’s casually sipping his beer. Sensing your lingering attention, he speaks, “Not much has changed since our last chat,” a warm smile playing on his lips.

You chuckle and take a sip of your water, scooting closer to Yoongi at your side, the warmth between you growing with every inch.

Seokjin’s infectious chuckles draw you in, the sound a delightful melody weaving through the air. “When I came home, my girlfriend had orchestrated a full-scale rearrangement of our entire apartment,” he shares, laughter dancing in his eyes.

“I thought the nesting phase happened later in the pregnancy, but now I don’t know where my stuff is, and neither does she.” The room erupts in laughter, and you find yourself clutching your stomach, the ache from amusement almost as sweet as the camaraderie in the moment.

“That sucks man,” Taehyung remarks, his laughter lingering in the air.

“What about you Tae?” Namjoon asks him with a smile.

“Ah, life’s the same old rollercoaster, but that vacation? Absolutely necessary.” He shares, his smile a vibrant punctuation to the story in his eyes.

“Spill the tea, Joonie. What’s been brewing in your world since we got back?” Yoongi takes a leisurely sip of his beer, a conspiratorial glint in his eye as he nudges Namjoon, inviting a glimpse into the tapestry of his recent adventures.

“I took that girl from the dating app out on a date,” he confesses, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Turns out, she’s not just nice; we’re practically living parallel lives. It’s uncanny how much we have in common.”

“That’s wonderful, Joonie!” you beam like a lovesick fool. “I’m genuinely thrilled for you. Wishing you all the best, and I hope things work out perfectly for you two.”

Wrapped in Yoongi’s comforting embrace, you surrender to the warmth, a lovesick fool drowning in the bliss of his arms.

You catch the heavy sigh escaping Jimin’s lips as he nurses his beer, and with a knowing look, he confesses, “The vacation was incredible, but reality hits hard. Work hasn’t changed a bit, and I’m already feeling drained,” he laments, taking another sip of his beer.

Seokjin raises an eyebrow, taking a hearty gulp of his beer, “Why the hell is your face as red as a tomato, Kook? What’s wrong?”

Everyone’s gaze converges on the youngest, and the deepening shade of his blush is impossible to ignore. You sense the topic at hand, your cheeks mirroring the rosy hue. Yoongi, nonchalant, chuckles beside you, adding to the collective curiosity in the room.

“Why the laughter, Yoongi?” Namjoon quirks an eyebrow inquisitively.

As he scans the expressions on both you and Jungkook’s faces, it becomes evident how you both go out of your way to avoid each other’s eyes.

“Something definitely went down between you two,” Hoseok chimes in, his voice filled with playful curiosity.

Jimin suddenly becomes intensely interested, leaning over the table to scrutinize both you and Jungkook. “Spill the details,” he demands with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Nothing happened!” Jungkook blurts out, raising his arms in a hasty defense, desperately trying to shield his crimson face. You, on the other hand, find solace in staring at the floor, unable to meet the curious gazes probing at your secret.

The guys persistently badger Jungkook for more information, but he clams up, sealing his lips tighter than a vault. Frustrated, their attention shifts to Yoongi once again.

Yoongi, nonchalant, raises his beer to his lips for another sip before casually revealing, “He saw us fuck.”

Jungkook lets out a dramatic groan, his hands shielding his eyes as if the vivid image of you and Yoongi in the throes of sex is still burned into his mind. The other guys, practically choking on their beers, sport eyes as wide as teacups, thoroughly amused by the revelation.

“What?” Taehyung practically yells, laughter bubbling up so much that his eyes glisten with tears. He turns to Jungkook with an incredulous expression, as if seeking confirmation for the unbelievable revelation.

“Why the hell were you watching them?” He interrogates Jungkook, genuine curiosity mirrored in the eyes of the entire group.

Jungkook finally glances at the group, his voice trailing off hesitantly, “I came to pick up my car at Yoongi hyung’s garage…” His eyes wander across the faces of the group, finally locking onto yours.

“And they were... at it,” his eyes reflect a blend of hurt and discomfort, “on the hood of my damn car,” he states with a stern and definitive tone.

A collective gasp fills the room, and all eyes turn towards you.

Your gaze immediately drops to the floor.

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks – it was Jungkook’s car.

The hurt in his eyes now makes sense; he adores that car. The frustration builds as you grasp that Yoongi was well aware, yet said nothing! There will definitely be a conversation about this later, dammit.

“Gross!” Taehyung scowls and audibly scoffs, taking an exaggerated sip of his beer to mask the disbelief etched on his face.

Seokjin shakes his head in amused disbelief, his words carrying a playful scolding. “Aish, you’re not teenagers anymore! You’re in your thirties for God’s sake.” Laughter erupts from Teahyung, Namjoon, Jimin, and Hoseok, echoing the sentiment.

Namjoon bursts into earnest laughter, his words carrying a teasing tone. “Forgot to lock the door? Rookie mistake.”

Jimin raises his beer high in the air, a mischievous glint in his eye. “A toast!” you all turn towards him, curious about the unexpected celebration.

“To ___!” Jimin bellows, breaking the silence, and with some hesitation, the rest of the group chimes in, including Yoongi. You can only watch them with a mix of surprise and amusement.

“She finally got that office fuck!” Jimin exclaims with contagious joy, and the rest of the group erupts in laughter so uproarious that it turns heads throughout the entire bar.

Author’s note (2): OMG! This is the end of Friendcation 😭 What a wild ride it has been to write it. But so, so good. What first started as an idea because my sister and brother-in-law were going on a roadtrip in their van around Europe, birthed this lovely story 😭

I truly want to say a big enormous thank you, to you. Yes, you! Thank you so much for all the time you have spent reading this series – I really hoped you liked it. I appreciate every single one of you, you guys are amazing 💜

If you liked it, please consider commenting (even an emoji is fine!), or reblogging or getting in touch with me in an ask – I don’t bite, I’m very nice I promise. It’s also completely fine if you don’t want to do any of those things too, no pressure!

Please stay happy and healthy 💜

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canonicallyobserving911 · 2 months

Text

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 26 is now available on AO3.

Please note: Chapters 24 and 25 were posted at the same time.

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Currently 26 chapters completed: 1M Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

___________

Here's a snippet from Chapter 26 of an emotionally distraught and hysterical Eddie while he's on the phone with 9-1-1.

___________

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“Yes I’m at 4995 S. Bedford St. and I have an adult male, 31 years of age who's unconscious and unresponsive and I need medical response.”

“Ok sir, can I get your name?”

“Eddie Diaz! I’m a firefighter and a paramedic with the 118.”

“Eddie!” Linda asks.

“Yes! Linda, I’m so glad it’s you.” He heaves past the sob lodged in the back of his throat that feels like a ping pong ball and continues. “Listen, it’s Buck… SHIT!” He stops talking because he remembers he needs to follow protocol for her recording then he tries again. “I mean you need his first and last name for the call. It’s my husband Evan Diaz and he’s also a firefighter with the—the 118.”

“Ok Eddie, I’m checking to see which RA unit is closest to that address but can you tell me what happened?”

“I—I don’t know but I came into the living room; he was swaying back and forth and I caught him before he—he hit the floor. I manually checked his vitals by doing the ABC method… I opened his airway, checked his breathing along with his circulation, then I—I got my medical bag and checked his pupillary response which is fine but his pulse, his blood pressure and his heart rate... and all of them are still low which is why I believe he might be having a bradycardia event. Linda… oh my god, whatever is happening to him is more serious than syncope because he’s still unresponsive.”

“Can you tell me how long he’s been down?”

“It’s been more than two minutes but I didn’t start counting until after I caught him so I could be one or two seconds off.”

“Ok, Eddie, our closest unit is 6 minutes away.”

He frowns and loudly asks, “Six minutes? Why?! I’m sorry please—please forgive me for being loud but I... I—I’m asking because there’s a fire station less than 4 minutes away from here.” He feels like he’s about to crawl out of his skin because the proximity of their home to the closest fire station in this area is one of the reasons why he decided to purchase it. He wanted to be close to one for Chris just in case they ever have to call emergency services.

Will the RA unit arrive in time to save Buck or will Eddie lose the love of his life? 👀

___________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it. But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago. They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial. But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories. Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie. It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

Chapter 27 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-26 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #The Diaz Family #911 on abc #911 abc #911 fanfic #buddie fanfic #ao3 fanfic #buddie wip #“I'm still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”#Fanonwriter2023 on AO3 #Chapter 26 is available on AO3

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btsmosphere · 2 months

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Supercharged | JJK (Teaser)

Get hyped!!!!!! Posting date chapter 1: 14th April

Chapter 1 is now here!

🗲summary:

It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens?

🗲pairing: jungkook x f!reader 🗲teaser word count: 365 🗲full fic wc: you do nOt want to know (79k...) 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers, superheroes/villains au, found family (imagine a mafia au with superpowers) 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: in the teaser: none, just some tension. general fic warnings: violence with superpowers, weapons, swearing, arguing, injury, past trauma, mentions of death

>Updates every week!!

Supercharged Masterlist

a/n: guys. it's TIIIIIME!!! how many years have you heard me talk about how I was working on a superpowered jungkook story?? I started this thing four years ago so I can't believe the moment's finally come! it's been a long ride, and most of those four years was spent not writing this, but I just couldn't stay away either! I really wanted to tell this story, and now here it is and I am so happy to be able to share it💜 Let me know in a reblog, comment or ask if you want to join my taglist for this series! Over the next week before chapter 1 is released, check back as I introduce our characters👀I'm so excited for you to meet them!

As a smile was just blooming on your face, it was halted by Namjoon's next words.

“But. You aren’t ready just yet. I want you out there with us, so I’m willing to send you out sooner than I have with others before. These are unusual times, and you have to understand this will be more dangerous than I normally send rookies to. There’s work to do, with your powers, but also…

“As much as I appreciate your trust in us, I know it doesn’t extend fully. I need my team to be able to trust each other. Every single one.”

Fixing you with a hard stare to accompany his last words, he was effective in making you shrink in your seat. You knew exactly who he was talking about.

And that person was waiting for you right outside.

On leaving the office, you found Jungkook leaning up against the wall. Jin and Namjoon had hung back, leaving you alone as you emerged, and you instantly rolled your eyes. Determined not to be deterred, you kept walking down the corridor, trying to fix your eyes ahead – firmly away from the infuriating man that watched your approach.

“Scared yet?” his smirk bled through his words. You were almost upon him at this point, and he pushed away from the wall, blocking the way with his black-clad body.

Eyes flicking up to him, unimpressed, you tapped your foot.

“Why would I be scared?”

One corner of his mouth curved up, looking you in the eye as he leaned a little closer.

“We aren’t heroes, honey.”

“Thanks for spelling that out, Jungkook,” you drawled, making to step past him.

His laughter followed you while you started walking away.

“Need help packing?” he called.

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jin’s stern voice joined him, “no need. She’s not going anywhere.”

Jungkook’s silence spoke volumes.

Glancing back as you reached the end of the corridor, you were met with the livid expression that seemed so familiar. Jungkook’s eyes bulged with shock. You were sure that Jin’s hand on his shoulder was all that was holding him back.

Making the most of his eyes on you, you flashed a serene smile and walked away.

Thank you for reading!! Part 1 is coming on April 14th, and I will update every week (that's a promise, since it's already written in full!)💜

Contact me to get yourself on the tag list!

Taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities

#bangtanarmynet #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook mafia au #jungkook enemies to lovers #bts x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook mafia #bts mafia series #jungkook series #jungkook angst #jungkook fic #jeongguk x reader #bts fantasy au #supercharged

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burntheedges · 16 days

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tbr list - May

hi I'm really behind on reading fic but I am going to catch up this week (month?), so help me! friends, I'm coming for you (and by that I mean I'm going to catch up on your amazing fics)! but I'm making a little TBR and I'm shouting you out in case anyone isn't already reading. 🧡 everyone, please check these out!

Centrifugation by @theclairvoyage - Joel x f!reader I love this fic so much. It's the detail and the care and the smut (hello) and it's so atmospheric, it's lovely. I'm on chapter 9 of the 10 that are out! (and I'm also going to read Sour Lemonade!! I'm so excited for it!)

Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star (Joel x f!reader) and Fortnight & New Beginnings (Joel x f!reader) by @mermaidgirl30 Jamie, how??? these ideas are so cool and I'm so excited to read them. I think I also still need to read the latest part of Dancing With Fire 👀

Closed Position by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings (Dieter x OFC) this fic!!! Dieter on Dancing With the Stars?? the chemistry between him and Kat? the detail?? and I have a two-part third installment to catch up on? I can't wait!

Scathed by @dancingtotuyo (Javi P x OFC) this fic 😭 I love it so much. I love Javi and Emily. I can't wait to read the newest chapter even though I think it's going to hurt me lol

your favorite kryptonite by @kedsandtubesocks (Dieter x f!reader) Dieter as a comic book store owner?? Erika always knows the way to my heart 🧡

as you've always been by @ezrasbirdie (Joel x f!reader) umm this description looks amazing? there are two beds but you only need one?? yes, please. can't wait to dig into this one.

Fate (Joel Miller x f!reader) and imperfect perfection (Frankie x f!reader) by @sawymredfox I can't wait to read these - wym, you have a gift for description that feels like something I can sink into and experience for myself.

Nicest Thing (Joel x f!reader) by @schnarfer neighbors and Jane Austen references?? I loved the first part and need to catch up!

Happy Ending (Frankie x f!reader) by @noxturnalpascal I've had this tab open since you posted it, Patti, I'm sorry it's taken me so long!! but I can't wait to read it. 🧡

...

anyone want to read along with me? 😂 also if you’ve posted something new in the last month please send me recs 👀

#fic rec #joel miller x reader #frankie morales x reader #dieter bravo x reader #javier peña x reader #fic rec list

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harringtonstilinski · 3 months

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I Didn't Run Away This Time, Right? - Steve Harrington

Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Steve Harrington x Munson!Reader Word Count: 5,584 Warnings: aaannngggsssttt, fluff, major character death, tried not to use y/n or y/n/n, hallucinations (reader sees someone 👀) Requested: no | yes; i hope it meets your expectations, anon friend!! Smut: no | yes; A/N: Hi, friends! Reader is 18 in this fic, Steve is his canon age (which I think is 19..?) If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

You couldn’t get there fast enough as your feet pounded the pavement below you. There was one person you had to get to; your older brother, Eddie. It was stupid as shit of him to drop from the tied up sheets that led your group from Hawkins to the Upside Down before cutting them.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you spotted a body on the ground. “Eddie!” you yelled, running faster than you thought possible to get to him. Sliding on your legs, you were careful to not kick him in the head like you used to do accidentally when you two were kids.

“Hey, kid,” he grunted. “Bad, huh?”

“No, no, no, you’re gonna be fine,” you said, checking over his wounds. “We’re gonna get you back home and I’ll patch you up.”

“Okay,” Eddie sputtered.

You went to help him up, but with the amount of pain he was in, he said, “I think I just - I think I just need a second, okay, kid?”

“Okay,” you said, getting at least his head in your lap. The tears were non-stop streaming down your face, the droplets hitting his cheek.

As he started choking on the blood trying to come up his throat, he looked at you before sadly gritting through his teeth, “I didn’t run away this time, right?”

“No,” you sobbed. “No, you didn’t.”

You could hear the tears in his voice as well as see them in his eyes as he said, “You’re gonna have to look after those little sheepies for me, okay?”

Taking a shaky breath, you cupped his cheek, saying, “You’re gonna do that yourself, Ed.”

“Nah, kiddo.”

Your cries started to come out harder, knowing that you were going to lose your big brother. Resting your forehead on his, you let the tears fall from your waterline, Eddie’s eyes closing for a moment before he said, “Repeat it, kid. Say it.”

“I’m-,” you sobbed. “I’m gonna look after ‘em.”

“Good.”

Grabbing his hand in yours, you laced your fingers with his, not caring about the blood, sweat and dirt covering both of your hands.

“ ‘Cause I’m actually gonna graduate this year.”

“You are,” you nodded, sitting back up to look at him. “We are.” He chuckled weakly, his grip on your fingers starting to go slack as you both said, “It’s our year.”

“I think it’s fiiiiinally my year.”

You could feel his life slipping from you as you held him as you whispered, “It is. But you have to hold on. Okay? Just hold on.”

Choking more on his own blood, Eddie looked at you, and he knew his time was coming to an end with you, so he decided to say the one thing you barely said to each other. “I love you, kid.”

The sobs were wracking your body at this point, knowing that his life was slipping away. You sniffled a deep breath, releasing it as you looked away from him, trying to blink the tears away. When you looked back down at him, you cried, “You can’t leave me all alone, Eddie. Don’t leave me here alone. Do you understand me? We have to graduate… together.”

Grunting as he choked, he whispered, “Say it back, kid,” as you gave him sad eyes. The last thing he heard from you before succumbing to his wounds was, “I love you, too, bubba.”

As you watched the life drain from his eyes, you cried harder than you ever had before; harder than when your mom left, harder than when your dad got hauled off to jail, screaming his name as the anguish washed over you. “EDDIE!!”

As you cried over Eddie’s lifeless body, you whispered tearfully, “Please, don’t leave me.” Laying uncomfortably over Eddie’s body, you couldn’t really hear anything over your sobs. Not even Robin, Nancy and Steve’s footfalls. Not even Dustin’s own cries. You didn’t register hands on your arms, pulling you up. It didn’t hit you until Eddie’s body started to get smaller and smaller.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said, pushing at the body that was all but covering you.

Steve's arms went tighter around your body as you struggled to get out of his hold. “Babe-,”

“Let me go!” you shouted, realizing that you were now back in the trailer. “I can’t just leave him!”

“Babe, just - what happened to the sheets?”

Resting your forehead on Steve’s chest, you sobbed into him, gripping the sleeves of his jacket tight in your fist. As Steve placed a kiss to the top of your head, he sighed, feeling extremely bad for you in this moment. You just lost your brother and you had to leave his body behind.

When the six of you had figured out a way to get back to Hawkins, you ran straight to yours and Eddie’s room; Wayne having let the two of you have it when he took you both in. Everyone tried to protest about you going in there, but their voices quieted down once they saw what was in your arms; your favorite shirts of Eddie’s, including a Hellfire shirt that he had made for you.

You weren’t a part of Hellfire, but more of an honorary member. You knew about the lore behind D&D because of Eddie, but you had no desire to play the game.

Steve ended up taking you back to his house to shower and change, and to try and get some sleep.

Of course, neither of you got any sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Eddie’s lifeless body in your lap. The morning after Eddie’s death, you’d all learned about the ‘earthquake’ that happened after Max’s death on the news, the reporter having said if you have items to donate, you could take them to the high school’s gym, where they set up a shelter for those who lost their homes.

You didn’t have any items that you wanted to donate, mainly because everything you would want to donate… was Eddie’s.

Two days after Eddie’s death, Steve finally got you out of the house to help volunteer at school’s shelter. You had made a pitstop with Robin and Dustin to the Wheeler’s house to gather the items that they were going to be donating.

After greeting and hugging the Byers boys, Mike and El, as well as meeting their friend Argyle, you left with Steve, Robin and Dustin to head to the school. You didn’t know where to go after the volunteer gave suggestions on where to go, so you stuck with Dustin, passing out cups of water, and giving blankets and pillows to those in need.

Your heart shattered when you saw your uncle standing by the bulletin board, watching as he took down a graffitied missing person’s paper on Eddie, just to put a fresh one up. Walking up to him, you placed a hand on his back. “Wayne?”

He looked down at you, a sad, but relieved smile on his face. “Hey, kid.” Hugging you, he sighed.

“Can we talk?” you asked.

“Can’t imagine we got anything to talk about,” he said.

Pulling back, a small smile formed on your face. “There’s that Munson sarcasm.”

You both sat down, a deep breath escaping your body.

Wayne sighed a deep sigh, putting his arm around you. “Your brother is innocent.”

“I know,” you whispered. “He wouldn’t’ve hurt a fly.”

“He’s still missing.”

Tears formed in your eyes because you knew the full truth as he continued, “I’ll put as many posters as I need until he’s found.”

Wayne went to stand, but you grabbed his shirt, keeping him in place. “I was with him. I was with him when the earthquake hit.”

“And where is he now, kid?”

Taking a shaky breath, you closed your eyes, not ready to break your uncle’s heart. You reached into the top of your shirt, bringing out the guitar pick necklace that was around your neck, the one you had grabbed the night he died. With a tearful voice, you sobbed, “I’m so sorry, Wayne.”

He took a shaky breath, resting his head on top of yours that you had rested against the front of his shoulder.

“I wish everyone knew the real Eddie,” you whispered-cried. “Like, really know him because they would’ve loved him. They would’ve known how much a good big brother he was; like, the best. He always made sure I had something to eat when dad would go off and do… whatever the hell he did. Ed would… would put me first before himself. He’d let me sleep in his bed when I had nightmares.

“Everyone would’ve seen how good of a person he is-was. Even right there at the end, he never stopped being Eddie. Despite everything we went through. I never even saw him when he got mad. He kept that part of his life away from me because of our father. He could’ve run, or even saved himself, but he didn’t. He fought. He fought and died to protect this town; this town that hated him. He fought to protect me. He isn’t just innocent. He’s a hero, Wayne.” You looked up at him, seeing the tears streaming down his cheeks as you said, “A goddamn hero.”

You and Wayne held onto each other as you both wept over the loss of one of your favorite people. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you looked up at Wayne, seeing him looking over your head.

Turning to look at whatever or whoever was looking at you, you saw Steve standing there, a solemn look on his face. You stood and wrapped your arms around his neck, sobbing into him. “I miss him so much.”

Wrapping his own arms around your middle, he sighed pressing a kiss to your neck. “I know,” he whispered.

You and Steve had started dating right after you turned 18. Since Dustin was in Hellfire and the two of you became friends, he’d introduced you to Steve. The two of you hit it off like fireworks, feeling those sparks the first time you and he laid eyes on each other; you thought he was cute, he thought you were beautiful. Steve, of course, waited until you were 18 before he made any sort of move on you, respectfully.

You knew of Steve from school, but the Steve you knew of was King Steve, not… Steve. Having known about him and Nancy when you were a freshman, you tried not to make the same mistakes that were made during their relationship, so when you told Steve that you loved him, you meant it. When Steve said it back to you, he meant it.

Being with Steve meant the world to you, but losing your brother put you in a state of depression that you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself out of. You wanted to try for him and for everyone else, but you built up walls that no one could tear down.

If Robin asked you how your day was going, you’d give a short “Fine,” and stick your nose back in your book. If Nancy asked if you wanted to go shopping, you’d make up some excuse to not go. The same with Steve; he’d ask you on countless dates in the weeks since your brother passed away, but again, you’d give some excuse to not go.

Dustin took over creating campaigns with Mike, Eddie having asked him to before he ran off to save the world. You’d be at Hellfire, but were distant, giving spaced out looks while sitting in your brother’s chair.

You’d still sit with Hellfire at lunch and walk with them to the classes you’d have together, but even they couldn’t break your shell, Dustin being the main one.

“Come on,” he would half-whine. “You gotta talk to us. We lost him, too.” All you would do was give him an upset look before grabbing your things and walking off school grounds, where Steve would find you walking on his way to Family Video.

Eddie had asked Dustin to look after you, something he was trying to do, but since you had built up your walls, the young teen couldn’t get you to talk about your grief, but he kept trying… for Eddie.

Since your trailer was basically destroyed because of it being the home of Chrissy’s Gate, you didn’t have anywhere else to go but to Steve’s. His parents weren’t home half the time, so it’s not like they would care or not if you were there. Wayne was fine with it, as long as you kept him updated.

He didn’t want to leave you by yourself, considering the state of mind you were in, but you’d promised him you wouldn’t do anything stupid to yourself, and he’d believe you. Steve would be worried sick about you while on his shift, all but fumbling with his work.

When he’d come home, the smell of food would hit his senses as he locked the front door. Walking into the kitchen, he’d find dinner prepared; a plate being left out for him with the utensils he’d need. A note would always be left on the plate in your handwriting.

Sorry for not waiting up for you. Also, sorry if it’s not good. I don’t really know how to cook that well. Eddie always did the cooking. Anyway, I hope it’s good. I love you. -Babe

It was three weeks after Eddie’s death when you all decided to have a service for him. It was beautiful, something he would’ve wanted. When you snuck back over to retrieve more of his stuff, as well as some of your own, you’d listened to all of his tapes that you took to find the saddest metal song for his funeral service.

At the reception afterward, Jeff suggested that Eddie’s favorite song be played, which happened to be the same song he played for Chrissy in the Upside Down; Master of Puppets by Metallica. You cried and Steve took you home.

Since Steve was still at work a few days later, you’d decided that looking out of the window was cutting it anymore for the moment, so you were now sitting on the floor of Steve’s room, back pressing againsting the mattress. Legs bent at the knee with your schoolbook resting on your thighs, your walkman laying beside you with the headphones pressed to your ears, having decided that homework would be a good distraction.

You didn’t register when Steve had walked into his room, hearing your voice sing Def Leppard’s Rock of Ages. Even with your walls up, he could see the real you shining through.

What Steve didn’t know was that when you weren’t around anyone and you were alone, you let your mind wander. Today’s daydream, Eddie sitting on the bed behind you, strumming on his guitar as you did your homework.

Feeling tapping your shoulder, you swatted at the hand, saying, “Stop.” When it happened again, you sighed. “Eddie.” Shoes were now in your line of sight, seeing that it was Steve’s shoes, not Eddie’s.

As Steve squatted, you crawled back into your shell, hiding yourself from him. “Baby,” he whispered. When you didn’t respond, he sat facing you, his arm resting on his bent knee. “Baby, talk to me.”

You looked at him, seeing a figure standing behind him. Looking behind Steve, your eyes went wide, seeing Eddie standing there, hands in his pockets, giving you a small smile that you instantly recognized.

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked back down at Steve, who was looking at you confused. “Uhm,” you whispered, seeing movement. Looking back up, you watched as Eddie moved from directly behind Steve to stand to the side of him. Eddie pointed to his ears, signaling you to take off the headphones.

Quickly taking off the headphones, you reached down to your walkman, pausing the cassette tape and looking back up as a tear fell from your waterline, Eddie suddenly gone. Your eyes danced around the room, Steve looking more worried.

“Babe?” he voiced. He looked behind him, not seeing anything but his posters on his wall. When he looked back at you, you had more streams covering your cheeks. Sighing, he whispered, “Oh, baby,” before moving to sit beside you, his back resting against his mattress with an arm around your shoulders.

Steve pressed a kiss to your temple, resting his chin on the top of your head when you dropped your head to his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said softly.

“I’m so tired of crying,” you whispered. “He’s such a dumbass, basically sacrificing himself like that.”

Releasing a deep breath, Steve moved his head to rest his cheek where his chin just was. “I know, baby. He did what he thought was right.” When he moved his again to look down at you the best he could, he noticed your notebook, seeing your homework written along the lines of the pages. “What’cha working on?”

Looking down at your papers with a deep sigh, you sniffled before picking your head up. “Math. Eddie and I had the class together. Teacher’s a real bitch. Always has been.”

“Wait, who’s your math teacher again?”

“Mrs. Martin.”

Chuckling, Steve nodded his head. “Yeah, I had her last year. Barely passed.”

“You barely came to school,” you said, chuckling.

Steve smiled at hearing your chuckle. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and it was music to his ears. “Hey,” he whispered, gaining your attention. “What do you say we go downstairs, order some takeout and have a movie night? Just us.”

Softly groaning, you tilted your head back. “As much as I would love to do that with you, I have about a week’s worth of homework to catch up on.” You didn’t really have that much homework, you just needed an excuse to not spend time with him, even though that’s all you wanted to do.

Placing his lips on your temple once more, Steve gently squeezed your shoulder. “Okay. Well, I’ll get you something. I’ll bring it up when I get back, okay?”

Nodding your head, you looked at him. “Okay.”

Since Eddie’s passing, you’ve only kissed Steve a total of two times. Those two times that you placed your lips on Steve’s, you were taken back to that night in the Upside Down, the two of you having shared a kiss before he went off to flambe Vecna.

Steve understood when you expressed your concerns to him about it. He said he’d wait until you were comfortable with kissing him again.

You thought it was stupid that you couldn’t kiss your own boyfriend, but your mind kept taking you back to that night over and over again when you did. In this moment, as you looked at Steve, you wanted to kiss him, but couldn’t bring yourself to.

So, you closed your eyes as he placed his lips on your forehead, your eyes closing at the feel of his lips on your skin. When his lips disappeared, you opened your eyes, seeing his already on you.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, voice shaky.

Steve stood and walked out of his room, wiping a tear that had fallen from his waterline as he stepped into the hallway. When he closed the door behind him, you put your walkman back on and got back to your homework.

When he got back to his house around 30 minutes later, he went upstairs after calling your name and getting no response. Opening the door, he sighed at the sight before him; you curled up on his bed in one of Eddie’s t-shirts. Your face looked the softest it’s ever looked in the last three weeks.

He walked over to you, placing the bag on the floor before kneeling beside the bed, watching as you slept. Leaning forward to press his lips on your forehead for the second time that night, he stood as he grabbed the takeout bag before heading back downstairs to take off his shoes and place his keys in the bowl on the entryway table.

Sitting down on the couch with this plate of food, he let out a groan before turning on the tv to watch his favorite sitcom, Family Ties. The newest episode was to air the next night, so the network was playing reruns of the past episodes.

He wasn’t that far into the episode before he heard you screaming Eddie’s name. Placing his plate onto the coffee table, he stood and quickly made his way to his room, seeing you gripping the sheets tightly in your fist.

It wasn’t until you screamed again that he jumped into action, laying behind you on the bed, putting his arm around your own to keep you grounded. “Baby!” he exclaimed. “Sweetheart, wake up!”

When you let out a whimpered cry, he rested his forehead on your shoulder, kissing the skin he could reach. “You gotta wake up, beautiful,” he said, voice soft as ever.

Feeling arms around you, grabbed onto them, breathing shakily before turning onto your back, opening your eyes as you cried. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, voice filled with tears. “I hate that I’m putting you through this shit, Steve.”

Sitting up to rest on his arm, Steve looked at you with nothing but love and adoration. Shaking his head as he cupped your cheek, he whispered, “Don’t be. I’ll always be here for you. I’ll help you through your grief and trauma.”

That only made you want to cry harder, but you willed the tears away before taking a deep breath, smelling the food on his breath. “Go eat, please. I’m sorry I took you from your food and sitcom.”

“It’s fine, baby. Do you wanna come and eat with me?”

Placing your hand on his wrist that was by your face, you tightened your lips, looking down at a random spot before shaking your head. It was killing you not spending time with him. The main thought that ran through your head was the fact that Steve would leave you, too, if you kept this charade up.

Releasing a deep breath, Steve nodded and moved to hover over you for a moment before getting off the bed and exiting the room. When his feet had hit the floor, you turned your back to him, letting the tears fall. The last thing he heard before he shut his door was your soft cries.

~~~

“I don’t wanna do this,” you said, panic in your voice. You were standing with Robin and Nancy in your Hawkins High green graduation cap and gown. “I can’t do this without Eddie.”

“Hey,” Robin said, placing her hand on your shoulder. “He’s here with you. He’ll always be with you.”

Your breathing started to pick up slightly, so you reached into your gown and grabbed the guitar pick necklace that you never took off. “It’s not the same, though, Robs. I need him here with me. Physically, not… mentally or emotionally.”

Feeling another hand on your other shoulder, you knew it was Nancy. “He is here. In spirit.”

“Yeah, okay,” you muttered.

Robin and Nancy looked at each other, sympathetic looks on their faces. When Robin looked back at you, she watched as a tear fell from your waterline, knowing that you were trying your hardest to keep the tears at bay.

When it was time to go and take your seats, you couldn’t leave Nancy and Robin, so the administrators of the school let them sit with you, holding each one of your hands, the roses that you all were given sitting in your laps, only… yours had two roses; a red one and a black one.

If Eddie had lived, he’d be holding the black rose that was given to you, muttering how stupid it was that he received a rose because roses were for girls, and you would snicker next to him, trying not to get in trouble with the teacher sitting at the end of the aisle.

When Robin’s name was called, she patted your hand and stood up, walking to the stage to receive her diploma, the same thing with Nancy when she called. It seemed like the entire Class of ‘86 was graduating except for you.

“And now, we’d like to bring to the stage–” When Principal Higgins called your name, you looked up from your lap in shock, Nancy and Robin smiling big at you, happy that your time had come. They helped you to stand, walking with you to the stage so that you wouldn’t fall.

You looked at the sky and you swore you could see Eddie flipping everyone off. Looking at Principal Higgins, you looked him dead in the eye, flipped him the bird before snatching your diploma from his hand.

But before you could run like hell off the stage and off the field, you looked at where your friends and family were sitting, shocked to all hell when you saw Eddie sitting in between Dustin and Wayne, clapping and smiling. You could’ve sworn you saw him mouth the words, “Our year, kid. Good job,” before vanishing.

You broke down in tears right on that stage, falling to your knees in front of your graduating class, not caring that they were witnessing your very public breakdown.

Steve, Dustin, Robin and Nancy all four rushed to the stage, helping you to stand as you sobbed uncontrollably over the loss of your brother. Since you couldn’t walk very well because of the sobs taking over your body, Steve had to bend down and pick you up, carrying you to the car.

He didn't get very far before you took a shaky breath, looking off to the side in front of Steve, saying, “I saw him. I fucking saw Eddie!” Steve stopped his feet from moving any further as he looked down at you.

“What did you just say, kid?”

Resting your head on Steve’s shoulder, your forehead touched the skin of his neck as you stuttered, “I-I saw E-Eddie. He was s-sitting between Wayne and D-Dustin.” As you tried to calm your breathing, you only cried harder.

“Oh, shit,” Dustin breathed.

“Kid, your mind is just playing on you,” Wayne voiced, sighing.

With your tears still ever present on your face, you looked up at Steve, eyes red from crying. “Put me down, please, Steve.”

He looked down at you the best he could, seeing the red in your eyes. Sighing, he nodded and set you on your feet. Feeling bad about keeping his hands on your waist, all he could do was look at you, knowing that you were probably going to run. “Are you gonna run?” he whispered.

You didn’t answer him because you both knew the answer. You would. But where, Steve didn’t know. Only you did. When he sighed and looked down, Steve let go of your waist, and not missing a beat, you turned and ran as fast as your feet could carry you.

With your feet hitting the pavement and your breathing heavy, you had only one goal in mind; getting to Eddie’s grave as fast as humanly possible. You weren’t sure how long you were running for, so when you found yourself sitting on your knees at your brother’s headstone, you were almost on the verge of a panic attack, you were breathing so heavy.

“You’re a liar,” you gritted through your teeth, tears streaming down your face. “You’d said this was our year. Our year, Edward. That makes you a fucking liar. I can’t believe you’d leave me alone, too. Ever since Wayne took us in, you always told me I’d never be alone, that you’d always be there for and with me. But you’re not.”

Hitting the side of your fist on the ground as you bent at the waist, you sobbed. You sobbed for the loss of the little boy you saw through your six year old eyes, for the fifteen year old who held you when your dreams became too much and introduced you to metal music, for the eighteen year old who failed his senior year the first time, for the young man he grew up to be right before your eyes.

Hitting the ground again, you took a deep breath, sitting up. Looking at his headstone, all you could see next to his name was his smiling face. This only made you cry more, the sobs wracking your body

“You lied! You’re a fucking liar! I hate you!” you cried, smacking the front of his headstone where his name sat, repeating those last three words over and over again. “You’re a fucking coward, Edward Munson! You hear me? A fucking coward!”

Placing your forehead at the top of the headstone, you let the tears flow down your cheeks, not hearing tires on the pavement behind you or the steps on the grass from someone’s shoes.

Steve watched as you took a deep, shaky breath sitting back up on your knees, your hand replacing where your forehead just was. He took a couple of steps towards you as he heard you say, “Nothing’s the same without you here. Wayne had to move trailers because of the Gate, I couldn’t donate anything of yours because the thought of getting rid of your things hurts me to my core.”

Kneeling down behind you carefully, Steve was fully prepared to listen to you grieve for your brother.

“You were wrong, Eddie… so terribly wrong about not being a hero. You are a hero. You saved me… a-and you saved Dustin.” Sighing, you closed your eyes and hung your head for a moment before picking it back up to look at Eddie’s name. “I love you, bubba. So much.” You leaned forward on your knees to kiss the top of his headstone before sitting back on your knees.

Steve knew that you were done talking to your brother, but he waited a moment, hearing you sigh in finality before he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump at the feel of someone touching you.

Quickly turning to face him, your features softened when you realized it was just Steve. You looked at him for a moment before smiling softly at him, both of you moving to sit next to each other, his arm around your shoulders as your head rested on his shoulder.

He sighed, resting his cheek against the top of your head. “I know that I’m sorry is the last thing you want to hear right now,” he whispered. “So, I’m not gonna say it. What I will say is that he’s always going to be here with you. Maybe not physically, but in your heart. I know him being in your heart isn’t the same as being here physically, but…” He stopped his words, looking down at you the best he could before bringing his hand to your chin, gently raising your head up to look at him.

“...he’s always going to be with you.” Putting his hand gently on your chest where your heart sat beneath your sternum. “In here.”

Smiling slightly, your eyes danced between Steve’s, asking, “My boobs?” before letting out a small, quiet chuckle at him as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“No, smartass. Your heart.”

Placing your hand over his, you leaned your head back against his shoulder, your eyes still locked on his. “I love you,” you whispered. “And thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, confused.

“For everything. Letting me basically move in with you, for letting me grieve even though we both know I’m gonna be doing that for a while. For loving me even when I put the walls up.” You looked back at your brother’s headstone, tears filling your eyes once again. “I just can’t believe he’s gone.”

Holding onto you a little tighter, Steve sighed, kissing your forehead when you turned your head into his neck. “I know. I’ll always be here for you, baby, even if you just want to cry, my shoulder is available 24/7.”

You chuckled at his words, looking up at him. “Again, thank you. This time for being supportive, or… at least trying to be.” Smiling softly, you couldn’t help but hear Eddie’s voice in your head, saying, “Kid, if you don’t love up on him, I will resurrect and do it myself.”

Steve didn’t wonder why you chuckled before looking over at the headstone once again. “What’s up?”

Shaking your head, you said, “Just something Eddie would say popped into my head.” Taking a deep breath, you sighed it out, saying, “It’s going to be tough,... but I’ll make it through.” Looking back at your boyfriend, the soft smile never leaving your face as you said, “Especially because I have you by my side.”

Resting his forehead against yours softly, Steve sighed, letting you take the reins on the next set of words that leaves your lips.

“I love you, Steve.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

The wind that blew over the two of you was just wind to Steve, but as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath in, you thought it was a sign from your brother, telling you everything was going to be okay.

Opening your eyes, you gave Steve a small smile before cupping his cheeks, and finally, finally giving him the kiss he oh so deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2: hi, friends! let me know what you thought about! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: i'm running out of nicknames to give reader when not using y/n or y/n/n. give me some suggestions?? also, i'm irritated at myself for not finding the gif i wanted.

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Posted on February 22, 2024 *Happy 31st Birthday to me!!*

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