#thank u if you’ve read this thank u even more if you respond

[sttoru]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

⟣ sypnosis. you had been in your first ever relationship with suguru for a couple months now. neither of you have taken your relationship to the next level; suguru was extremely patient and never brought the topic of sex up until you one day decide you were ready.

⟣ note. first fic for my event :3 i spent way too much time on this fic so it turned out very detailed, long, romantic and fluffy. i hope you all enjoy and appreciate it teehee. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk ! wc: around 6.1k

⟣ tags. soft dom!geto suguru x virgin!female reader. fluff + smut. slow burn. age gap (reader 20-ish, suguru around 29/30), little talks about insecurity, loss of virginity, breast play, edging, teasing, fingering, lots of praise, dirty talk, size difference!, p in v — unprotected (dont b like reader and use protection please), creampie, aftercare, suguru’s really romantic and just a softie for u, suguru being a good ‘dad’ to mimiko and nanako and teeny tiny bits of him secretly being a pervert.

never in a million years had suguru expected his girlfriend to be so upfront about such a big, personal decision. the thought of having you say those words had never crossed his mind.

“can you repeat that for me, sweetheart?”

could you blame him for asking you to clarify the words you’ve uttered? that man has seen you as an oblivious and innocent woman ever since the start of your relationship. of course, unbeknownst to him, your thoughts were anything but that.

you may be a virgin, but your mind was a place for the most lewd and nasty thoughts. it’s just that you’ve been scared of being intimate with a man—it’s frightening, especially when having heard the many online stories about how badly it could hurt. some say that such descriptions were over exaggerating, however your inexperience still lead you to believe everything you’ve read about the topic.

and then you started dating an older man named suguru. you’ve met him by chance at a mall in kyoto and he was the first one who approached the other. you remember how suguru politely asked you for some advice regarding what type of presents he should get for ‘two teenage girls’. of course, you agreed to helping him out and that’s how you two eventually ended up brainstorming about possible ideas in a cozy café.

once seated, chosen drinks in both your hands, you asked the man whether the gifts were meant for his daughters. somehow, that’s the first connection the neurones in your brain had made once suguru told you about the two teenagers he was picking out presents for.

you remember it vividly; the sweet, gentle sound of the laughter that accounted as your answer, the eyes of the then stranger looking rather nostalgic as they stared into the liquid in his cup. suguru responded vaguely; “i guess you could say that, yes.”

that little ‘date’—if you could call it that—ended on a wholesome note. suguru thanked you for your time and made sure that you safely got into the train you needed to take home. he did want to offer you a car ride, however he kept that question to himself since he knew that no woman would voluntarily agree to be taken home by a stranger. even if suguru had the purest of intentions.

there were a couple more dates that followed after that one; all where you both gradually got to know each other better. you’ve found out so much about suguru—the details about his own life being both fascinating and sad at the same time. likewise, suguru had also learned much about you. he always shows great interest in what you tell him, even if it’s a minuscule detail. he remembers it all as well—a feature which caused you to feel funny things in your stomach.

you realised you were catching feelings for that mysterious yet sweet and loving man; it was inevitable. the way he makes you giggle, his respectful and easygoing manner of speaking, the slight touches you two shared on accident.. all of it added to your little crush.

however, you didn’t actually think suguru was falling for you too. you only met up for a few times, plus, you seem out of his league—both due to your age gap and difference in the things you’re pursuing at the time. you were in college, trying to get your degree whilst he already had a job as a powerful leader of an organisation and was trying to achieve one of many goals with them.

there’s not a chance he’d like you, right?

wrong. you were confessed to a couple weeks after your first meeting and have been in a relationship for over 4 months now. it still felt like a dream; having your first boyfriend be such a gentleman. it truly felt like you already met the love of your life whenever he was near.

suguru’s been nothing but sweet and caring to you, has never asked you to engage in any sexual activities nor even ever dared to touch you in places you haven’t consented to. the furthest you’ve gone in terms of intimacy in those four months, were make-out sessions. just some tongue action here and there—adding sprinkles of neck kisses and hickeys.

there were times where you wanted to let things escalate, however you couldn’t bring it upon yourself to ask your lover. suguru wasn’t the person to decide your feelings for you either—if there was no verbal consent coming from your lips, he’s not going any further. even if he wanted to as well.

you were grateful that suguru was that willing to wait for you, no matter how long it might take. not only were you anxious of the possible pain the sex would bring, but it was partially due to the fact that your lover was much more experienced in that field.

what if you were lacking? what if it wasn’t satisfactory enough for him and he’d eventually leave you for it? it’s obvious that suguru wasn’t the type of man to actually do that, however you couldn’t stop the many possibilities from running free in your brain.

your change of mind was rather spontaneous; it was today when you suddenly came up with your final decision. you were staying over at suguru’s, the sun was out and he was sitting on his balcony, reading a book whilst sipping on his coffee. what caught your eye was his bare back and the muscles which were on display to you.

suguru was shirtless and the seams of light were making his skin glisten—the view making your own body hot and bothered. you bit your lip and approached your boyfriend from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before kissing his neck. that skin-to-skin contact made you sure of your decision; you needed him. in more ways than one.

that’s how you ended up saying what you said. the statement left suguru baffled since you uttered it in his ear out of the blue. he couldn’t deny one thing however; the idea certainly did send a shiver of excitement down his spine.

“i said,” you repeat with a little mischievous grin, leaning in closer to your lover once he turned around to face you properly—as if searching for any hints that your words were indeed not his imagination, “i wanna lose my virginity to you.”

it wasn’t. you actually said it—the words that would take your relationship a step further. although, suguru couldn’t help but wonder where your sudden decision came from. his hands found their way to yours and he held onto them like they were two delicate flowers.

“i’m happy to hear that, though i’m curious,” your lover starts off carefully as he places chaste yet soft kisses on your palms, “why so sudden?”

you shrug nonchalantly like you didn’t feel that twinge of nervousness in the back of your mind as you felt suguru’s lips on your skin. ‘it really was happening now, was it?’—that kind of feeling was the cause of your subtle anxiousness.

“well, ehh— you just looked good.. sitting there.. i guess.” you mumble, voice trailing off in embarrassment whilst your eyes darted around the balcony in attempt to avoid suguru’s gaze. your flustered expression and adorable confession makes him laugh gently. it was not a mocking laugh at all—more of an amused one;

“just when i thought you couldn’t get any cuter..” the long-haired man muses, the locks of his bangs grazing ever so slightly against your hands as he keeps holding them, “you never fail to surprise me, do you know that?”

suguru had a way with words that made you weak in the knees. or maybe it’s simply because he’s shirtless and kissing your palms so romantically. you don’t know which one it was.

“but, love,” suguru continues carefully as he stands up, your eyes following his as he towers over you, “are you a hundred percent sure? i don’t want to do anything you aren’t comf—“

“yes.” your answer cut your boyfriend off and he’s left in shock once more. your eyes were filled with determination, yet the faint glint of nervousness in them didn’t escape suguru’s sight. you’ve given your verbal consent and are even the first one to suggest the idea— what more could he ask of you?

there hung a silence between you two, the breeze blowing through suguru’s dark locks making him look even more majestic than he already was. you had no doubt about it; today was going to be the day. it had to be.

“then, if you’d let me have this,” his low voice sounded more sensual than it had ever been as his hand found its place on your cheek, fingertips rubbing against your ear, thumb softly pressing onto your skin—

a slow and romantic kiss followed straight afterwards. it had caught you slightly off guard, even when knowing fully well that this was what you were longing for.

his lips moved in tandem against yours, the soft touch making you feel certain emotions that you hadn’t even thought existed. this man whom you called your lover had never been unable to expose you to new sensations. and soon, he’ll grant you another one. a much pleasurable one.

one arm circled your waist, the other held up, hand on the back of your head to deepen the passion-filled kiss you shared. his lips parted your lightly trembling ones, the tips of your tongues attentively rubbing against one another as if to test the waters; was it fine to go further? are we actually doing this?

you were. it was set in stone as your throat formed soft noises of satisfaction, shaky breaths being exchanged by the two lovers on the balcony—not one of you realising that the weather was changing in the background. the sun was setting, creating the perfect mood for the situation as you were still engrossed by each other’s moves and touches.

it was only for the sake of catching your breath that you had pulled away. your cheeks felt hot, as did your entire body which was still pressed against suguru’s—chest to chest. the proximity was one you both had enjoyed many moments before, however this instant was unlike any other. you both knew as you stared at each other in silence, your quick breaths doing the talking instead.

“will you let me..” the voice of which you have grown to adore spoke to you, the owner grasping your attention once more by holding onto your hand. suguru’s fingers smoothly slid across your skin until they found the puzzle they were meant to complete—that being the gaps between your own fingers. once your hands were tightly intertwined, the man finishes his sentence;

“will you let me love you?”

his face was still close to yours as he uttered those beautiful words to you, warm breath lightly fanning the thin strands of hair on your cheeks to the side, lips subconsciously trying to brush against yours once more. but, they could wait. they could wait until the agreement leaves your mouth.

“of course.” the answer escapes before you could even register it properly. this makes suguru smile against your lips as he captured them in another sweet kiss. he muttered a small ‘thank you’ and then swept your legs off the floor—strong arms placed under your thighs to hold you up against his body whilst the hungry kisses continue.

suguru doesn’t know how he got there; carrying you over to his bed, settling you down onto the soft mattress, his body caging yours underneath him, eyes fluttering over every detail of your exposed skin. he hadn’t had you like this ever before; he hadn’t had you in his bed for a reason as sinful as this, only ever for cuddles or sleep.

“you’re beautiful.” the dark-haired man whispers as he carefully takes off the clothing covering your figure—the gorgeous skin his hands still have yet to explore. suguru can’t remember the last time he has treated anyone like this; like a treasure he’s had the honour to find and keep to himself. there hasn’t been a single woman in his life that he’s cared for this much—you’re the only one capable of mellowing him and his heart.

“stunning,” another compliment; another breath spent to praise you. your lover’s fingers teased the edges of your bra, lips kissing down your collarbone and towards the centre of your chest—each touch being done with precision. your bra became undone a second later and you let the straps fall of your arms, all the way until your breasts were fully revealed.

suguru’s breath hitches, mouth forming more saliva than in any previous instants, the liquid being pushed down his throat with a gulp. you didn’t have the chance to feel conscious of yourself in a moment like this; the dim light of the bedside lamp shone on suguru’s face, his lips glistening with a mixture of your saliva whilst his gaze was lingering on the new sight in front of him—he was utterly obsessed.

“may i?” his hands were already reaching out for the plump flesh and they came in touch once you nodded shyly. his palms were warm as they kneaded your breasts and his fingers brushed against your nipples, which made you whimper from how sensitive they were now that someone else has finally touched them.

suguru took notice of your reaction and put pressure on both small buds once again, thumbs rubbing your areolas in circular motions, “that good, princess?”

“mhmm— y-yes,” you mutter through a moan. your body was pushed further onto the mattress as your lover put more of his weight on you, your entire chest area getting covered by licks and kisses, slow and deliberate ones that left you yearning for more. suguru’s eyes gazed up at yours for consent once his parted lips hovered just above your sensitive nipples, his breath on them alone making you squirm already.

with another nod, suguru wasted no time taking one nipple into his warm mouth—wetting it with his saliva as his tongue slid around the area. his long fingers squeezed, twisted and pulled on your other nipple to give you both stimulations at once.

“mm, so good.” his muffled voice caused goosebumps to appear on your skin. suguru slowly lets his lips travel across your tits, sucking on them, even kissing down the curves until he reaches your torso. he gives that area the same amount of love and attention whilst your fingers were tangled around his smooth, long hair. suguru clearly seemed to enjoy the sensations; he let out small moans and hums against your bare skin to indicate that you should continue playing and tugging at his locks.

his tongue abruptly came to a stop right above the waistline of your panties—the barrier he was about to reach past for the first time. the hesitation was visible in his body language, however his fingers eventually tugged at the fabric, preparing to take it off.

your heart was beating out of your chest as you watched suguru slowly pull the last piece of cloth away. your thighs pressed together on instinct, stopping your panties from exposing your bare cunt.

“should i stop?” suguru asks with a raised eyebrow, fingers pulling away from your underwear now that he’s seen you close your legs. you didn’t want him to stop—it’s just the nerves that made your body move on its own command;

“please— no,” you shake your head, biting your lip as you swallowed your own saliva out of pure desire. you craved him now that it’s come this far, “need you. need you so bad, suguru.”

those words caused suguru’s brain to shut down. any irrelevant thoughts were thrown out of the window; the only thing his mind was telling him to do, was to take care of your needs. your body was laid out on his bed—trusting eyes looking up at his in anticipation, pretty hands grasping onto his sheets like it’d calm you down.

“i’m all yours, sweetheart.” suguru sighs, fingertips slightly shaking as he pulls your panties down to your ankles, eyes pausing on the revelation. to say that suguru was simply rendered speechless, was an understatement. that man was on the verge of letting loose of any self-control and just dive his face right between your thighs, eating you out like he’s fantasised of doing for a while now.

“fuck.” your boyfriend closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself before opening them to smile down at you—the handsome smile that was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him, “i’ll be careful. i promise.”

naturally, you nodded along. you’ve built up enough trust between one another during the past few months to let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. the palm of his hands patted your thighs slightly before spreading them apart, once again showing your glistening folds, a slight wetness to them from your own arousal.

suguru couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight. he’d already have devoured your dripping cunt if it wasn’t for his self-control. but, it was your first time. he couldn’t rush into things just yet.

“thank you, baby.” the dark-haired man whispered under his breath. he was showing his gratitude for the sight you allowed him to see—a sight only he had ever seen before. the only man to be able to witness the beauty before him. that fact alone made his eyes darken in lust ever so slightly.

his fingers carefully slid across your vulva, your bodily fluid coating the skin which makes him shiver and his fingers get bolder. the cute sounds that filled his ears were only making this even better for him.

the way your hips bucked up slightly into his touch—just asking for suguru to take you right then and there—was driving him insane. every vein in his body felt like it could pop with how much he was restraining his own self from acting out of line. his finger easily slid into the little hole and suguru almost couldn’t believe it; your pussy was clamping down on his finger, your insides tightly wrapped around him to the point that even he wouldn’t know if his dick would fit in.

“hnnngh, suguru, please— wan’ your cock already,” that dirty sounding sentence was one he didn’t expect to hear from a virgin. it made him shake his head with a small, delighted chuckle; you really never failed to surprise him.

“i know you do,” suguru purrs, pressing kisses against the curves of your tits whilst another finger of his joined to stretch your pussy out properly, “but i need to prep you enough if you wanna take my cock. can you be patient for me, sweetheart?”

“m’kay. gonna try..” his fingers pumped in and out of you, the feeling of them curling up deep inside you made your walls squeeze against them. you’ve played with yourself before, of course, however it was then that you discovered that nothing could ever compare to the real thing: suguru’s long and slightly girthy fingers.

just when you thought that it couldn’t get any better, you felt a third finger—not inside you--but on your clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves like you could’ve never done to yourself. suguru was so precise and exact with his actions which showed his experience. that’s another reason of why you’ve put all your trust in him. getting your virginity taken by a sweet, older and experienced man was probably ten times better than losing it to any guy your age, who were probably only out for sex.

suguru was there to make love to you.

your back arched once you felt suguru’s fingers increase their pace, the wet and squelchy sounds echoing through the room as they got louder the more your pussy got played with, his thumb almost overstimulating your clit to the point of release already—that’s how superb your lover’s hand movements were.

“no, no. can’t have you cum on my fingers like that.” you whine once you felt suguru take his fingers back the same moment you were about to reach your first orgasm by someone else’s hands. the older man smirks at this and kisses you on the lips, pulling away slowly with your bottom lip between his teeth, letting it lightly flop back into place as he lets go; “i wanna have you cum together with me, okay?”

you couldn’t refuse such a romantic request, thus you nod. suguru smiles back at you once more before his hands move to take off his sweatpants, tossing the piece of clothing to the side. your eyes widened as you were propped on your elbows, gaze lingering on the massive bulge formed at the crotch area, his boxers not hiding much of the shape.

once the underwear was off as well—that’s when you realised that your underlying anxiousness was not for nothing. suguru’s cock sprung free, it was slightly curved near his pink tip, drops of pre-cum flowing down the length. you haven’t ever seen a dick in real life, only ever on the internet, so this had left you stunned. you didn’t know what the average size was for a man, but there’s one thing you knew for sure: suguru was definitely way above the average size.

“cat got your tongue, princess?” he teased, his hand absentmindedly pumping his cock to the sight of your naked body underneath him. suguru didn’t even know that he started doing that in front of you; it was out of pure instinct. he couldn’t hide the excitement in his body, his shaft twitching in his hand as if it desperately wanted to feel your tight cunt around it.

“uhm, s-suguru..” you stammer a bit, biting your lip as your eyes followed his hand motions which got faster once your sweet voice called out to him. something about you looking a tad bit intimidated by his size made him want to destroy your insides to mush—have you beg him to fuck you as he bullies his whole length into your poor, small cunt.

“i know, i know..” suguru reassures you, free hand giving you a few consoling head pats, “i’ll try to make it as less painful as possible, okay?”

you hum and watch how your lover settles between your legs, spreading them enough to kneel before you, upper body bending forward to place soft pecks on your forehead; he was encouraging and preparing you more in his own way.

your arms instantly wrapped around his back, sweaty palms set underneath his shoulder blades—you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, just waiting on that moment. that feeling you’ve been craving, yet also have been avoiding.

you waited for a bit, however the only sounds heard and sensations felt were the slight dent in the mattress near one side of your body, the bed creaking faintly. suguru was leaning on side of his body, one arm stretched out to open a drawer, apparently searching for a condom.

once you realised what he was doing, you shook your head and tapped his back twice to regain suguru’s attention. his gaze immediately flickered over to yours and his head tilted to the side in curiosity; “i want the full experience—no condom, please.”

his eyes widened at the request. you seemed to be dead serious, eyes glinting determinedly, lips forming a little pout— it was impossible to refuse you, although suguru knew that he had to play the role of the older, more wise and experienced lover in the back of his mind.

he parted his lips to list off the reasons why you should let him use a condom, yet the words died on his tongue. you were impossible to say ‘no’ to. not when you’re looking up at him with those pretty eyes.

“whatever princess wants, princess gets.”

suguru prodded your entrance with the fat head of his cock, circling the hole and wetting it more by using a mixture of his pre-cum and your own arousal. you took another deep breath and tried your best to hold tightly onto your boyfriend, arms wrapped tightly around his back with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck—bracing for impact.

“tell me if it hurts too much,” suguru whispers in your ear, leaving one last kiss on your temples before pushing his hips forward, folds stretching out and apart to allow his cock through and into your pussy.

did it hurt like you expected? yes. it most certainly did. maybe even worse than you were prepared for.

“fuck— nhhh, fuckfuckfuck!” you hiss whilst your nails dig into the skin of suguru’s back, probably leaving red marks because of how much you’re clinging onto him—like your life depened on it. that’s quite literally what it felt like to you; body being forced to part and make way for suguru inside you, pussy feeling like it was burning by how big of a stretch it was to fit him in—if he actually would be able to push all of his inches into your tight hole.

“sshh, shh, it’s okay, try to relax for me, yeah?” your lover comforts you the best he could, stilling his movements for a couple seconds before gently slipping his cock further into you. it pained him to see the discomfort written over your face, however you hadn’t made any clear signs of wanting this to come to a halt. in fact, you were encouraging him to continue whenever he stopped at any indication of hurt.

“i can take it.. p-promise,” you manage to moan out. suguru breathed in deeply at your words and nodded, kissing your lips in hopes to distract you from any pain you’re feeling, “you’re too good to me, sweetheart. really.”

both of you exhaled deeply as suguru finally bottomed out, a long minute of reassurance and pushing now behind your back. your eyes had watered up a little, chest heaving as you tried to accommodate to the new feeling inside of you.

“take your time.” suguru utters gently, voice sultry and sweet whenever its directed at you. his lips graze against your cheeks, smothering the area with pecks to take your mind off anything else. the locks of black hair tickle your chin and nose, the hairtie that usually kept a good chunk of his hair in a bun now out of sight.

suguru hadn’t taken anyone’s virginity before and that’s what also made this opportunity special to him. he didn’t know how to thank you with words, so he showed his gratitude throughout his actions; lips kissing your shiny tears away, moving across your face to your forehead and eventually to your own round lips which had formed a cute pout.

you could feel suguru smile against your mouth, his tongue gently tracing the outline of your lips whilst mumbling words of affection and praise; “you’re taking it so well, baby. such a good girl for me— love you so much.”

you giggled lightly at your lover’s appreciative remarks, focusing on returning the kiss instead of the tingling feeling in your lower body. you pulled away after a bit and looked up at him with nothing but pure adoration; “i love you too, suguru.”

if suguru had the ability to freeze time, he’d want to do it during this moment, just to relive this bit over and over. he’s sure that this exact instant will be engraved into his memory for the many years to come.

and once you’ve given him the green light to move, he did it with caution, slowly but surely. his hips moved back and then forwards, girthy cock dragging along your walls at a leisurely pace, but just enough to make your pain transform into pleasure.

suguru’s big hands were placed on your hips, sometimes they’d leave their position to cup your chin and make you face him. he doesn’t want you to look away from his eyes; he’ll think you don’t like this if you do. besides, the thing he loves most about being in the missionary position, is that he’s able to hear how good he’s making you feel whilst looking into your eyes to see your face scrunch up in satisfaction. it’s so romantic and perfect. just like you.

“my little princess is so pretty.” suguru sighs in content and kisses your tears away, thrusting into your tight cunt in a comfortable pace—not too fast but not too slow, “the way you take my cock and still manage to look beautiful while doing it— you’re incredible.”

if the physical pleasure wasn’t enough, his added commentary would certainly be. you moan and whimper phrases that sound like his name over and over again; you didn’t know what else to say as your mind was foggy with the amazing sensations your body was experiencing for the first time. that was fine with suguru since all he wants was to see you enjoy yourself—this moment was for you. everything he did was for you—every thrust, every kiss, every touch.

“nhhg, too good, so good!” you mewl and leave more scratch marks across suguru’s back, ones which he didn’t mind at all. it only served as further proof of this special moment. the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of your insides, puffy folds parted widely to make room for more of his length until it felt like he actually was balls deep.

“mhm—you’re, haah, tight..” the once calm and collected man seemed to let loose of himself the more he felt your cunt swallow him all the way, gripping onto his dick as if you didn’t want to ever let go. suguru grunts and moves down to leave a couple hickeys across your neck, hips non-stop pushing against yours, “don’t think i can last long—fuck, yeah—you feel amazing, baby.”

your eyes roll back as the pleasure seems to build up in your stomach as well. it felt like a coil that threatened to snap at any moment and it’d release another immense wave of pleasure upon breaking. your body was on fire, sweaty and hot, just like suguru’s.

“can you cum with me, princess? can you wait and hold on for me?” he asks, and the questions sound impossible, however you could at least try your best to fulfil his desires. you’d also want nothing more than to reach your peak together with the man you loved.

“okay—mmhh—together.” you nod and your body tenses up, legs subconsciously moving to wrap around suguru’s waist, heels of your feet simultaneously tapping against his lower back along with his hip movements. you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out for as your breathing patterns changes, whiney gasps and choked up moans escaping the back of your throat as your clit bumps against his pelvis over and over.

“almost, almost—“ suguru curses through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching while yours did the opposite. your body rocked back and forth and the bed felt like it was shaking along as well. you could tell by the way suguru’s hips rolled against yours that he was close—his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes half-lidded but not closed to still hold contact with yours and his hands clutched onto your waist. all indications of his nearing climax.

“mnph, gonna cum— shit, shit, shit, i’m gonna cum—“ suguru swears under his breath a couple times more before snapping back into reality at the last few seconds. he realised once again that he didn’t have a condom on, so his first rational thought was to pull out and finish himself outside of your body.

you were also nearing your own orgasm, not thinking rationally due to the intensity of the moment, any other thoughts except for the man on top of you were thrown out of the window. you felt suguru try to pull his twitching and throbbing cock out before it could spurt its cum inside of your dripping cunt.

you whined and shook your head, pulling suguru in for a deep kiss while tightening the grasp your legs had around his hips; “w-want to feel you cum in me— want you to fill me up while i finish too.”

suguru’s breath caught in his throat, almost choking on his own saliva from your bold requests. his only rational thought instantly vanished from his mind, now all that’s left was pure love, pleasure and desire. the mental image of his cum spilling and filling your pussy to the brim drove him to the edge.

“all yours, i’m going to give it all to you, princess, yeah? fuck !” both of you relinquished in the feeling of bliss, the warmth and build up reaching its designated ending— the expected waves of pleasure washing over you both. series of soft moans, whimpers and groans filled the room as your pussy was flooded with lots of hot cum.

it was like suguru hadn’t came in years—that’s how incredible that orgasm was experienced by the dark-haired male. the same thing goes for you; your legs were shaking, hips squirming up in aftershocks as you squeezed down on suguru’s cock, quite literally milking him dry of every drop.

“nhh, haah— suguru, love,” your tired and powerless whispers caught his attention immediately. your trembling hand held onto his cheek in attempt to make him look at you. suguru’s fingers curled around your wrist, turning your hand away from his face and to the side so he’ll have access to your palm. his lips left a ticklish trail of pecks on them until his mouth found its home: your lips.

the two of you exchanged deep, exhausted breaths, your boyfriend eventually pulling out and rolling onto his side to cradle you into his arms—hand placed on the back of your head to rest your body against his chest. the following seconds were spent cuddling as you tried to regain composure.

“you were amazing.” suguru sighs, chin resting on top of your head whilst his hand rubbed your bare back in comfort, “are you okay, sweetheart? nothing feeling off or anything of that sorts?”

you shake your head and snuggle up against your lover, content with how things are right now. the afterglow of your little session—of your first time, made you happier than ever. you couldn’t believe it’d feel this good. maybe it’s due to the one you’ve lost your virginity to.

“i’m okay.” you mumble and lift your head up to look suguru in the eyes, faces only inches away from each other. there were no words in the dictionary that could describe how you two felt. the closest word to explain it would be flawless.

“i’m glad, baby. thank you for trusting me.” suguru flashes you a small smile and strokes your head. you stay like that, bodies intertwined in a deep and comfortable hug, whispers of sweet nothings filling your ears and subtle gestures of love making you feel secure.

a couple minutes later and suguru noticed how you started to doze off. he chuckled to himself before pulling away from your hug and standing up, only to have you pout and complain about the loss of warmth.

“i’m just going to clean you up, love.” the soft-spoken man utters to you, laughing quietly at the adorable state you were in at the moment. you were so dependent on him.

“should i prepare us a warm, relaxing bubble bath as well?” he asks, squatting down near the edge of his bed and taking your hands in his, maintaining eye contact as per usual.

“that’d be nice.” you nod and feel your eyelids close slowly, “can’t promise i won’t fall asleep, though.”

suguru lets out a soft exhale through his nose, corner of his lips curling upwards at your little comment. he couldn’t believe he ended up dating such an unbelievably wonderful girl. it’s a blessing in his life of curses.

“i’ll make sure to at least clean you up if you do fall asleep, don’t worry. you’re safe with me.”

you were sure he was an angel sent down from heaven. it was more than clear to you—even if it may not be to many others out there.

“thank you, suguru.” you murmur as your body relaxes into the soft mattress, “i love you.”

“i love you too. more than you could imagine.”

#ෆ : choose your fate. #jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #jjk x you #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #jjk fic

[rhiannswork]

hii i was wondering if u could write something about a pool party that morgan throws, so ofc bau!reader and the rest of the team goes. spencer gets in the pool and everybody is speechless when they notice the scratches on his back. unbeknown to your involvement.

the water’s fine.

spencer ᕁ bau!reader

warnings: allusions to sex, suggestive if you squint with a monocle, smart reid (i did some research for that btw lolol), private relationships, hmm i think that’s it!

"hey, yln made it after all!" morgan exclaimed while relaxing by the pool, drink in hand. "sorry, guys. i had a bit of trouble finding a good bathing suit," you explained, not entirely truthful about the reason for your tardiness. in reality, you and spencer got sidetracked once you found the perfect suit, causing both of you to arrive late. yet somehow, spencer managed to beat you to morgan’s location.

as morgan gestured towards spencer, he reassured, "don’t worry, pretty boy just arrived." emily found it amusing, asking "who reads at a pool party?" while opening her soda can. "spencer reid does," jj responded as she sat beside the pool with her feet dangling in the water, earning a laugh from penelope who was sunbathing on a unicorn float.

"hey derek, do you have any more of those floats? i think i’m going to get in the pool." you placed your bag by the patio table and started to apply some sunblock. "sure thing, i’ll go inflate it." "thank you!" you shouted as he walked away from the group.

as you applied the rest of your sunblock, you couldn't help but notice the chatter of your colleagues. you walked over to spencer, who was deep into reading his book. "hey handsome," you whispered, making sure only he could hear you. spencer raised his head, squinting as he blocked the sun with his hand. "hi baby," he replied with the same volume. "are you planning to get in the pool, or will you stay here and read?" you giggled. "i’m going to finish this book," he said with a shrug. "suit yourself!" you walked off.

soon after, morgan returned holding a heart-shaped floatie which he handed to you before returning to his chair. you threw the floatie into the pool and gradually got in after it. descending the pool steps, you winced as the cold water rushed over your body. "why is it always freezing when you first get in the pool?" you complained as you reached for the heart-shaped floatie.

“the cold going into the pool is actually a result of conduction of heat. see, water is a much better conductor of heat rather than air. energy can flow from your body quicker than it would if you were surrounded by air at the same temperature. even if the water is much warmer than the air, you would still feel cool getting in.” spencer answered your rhetorical question.

"let’s not ask reid any science questions today," penelope giggled as she took a sip of her soda can. "my apologies," he chuckled, refocusing on the final chapter of his book. you shook your head and repositioned yourself in the float, finally finding a comfortable spot.

"spencer, come join us in the pool, the water is great!" jj exclaimed, eyeing the artificial waterfall nearby. "but I'm not finished with my book," spencer whined. "if he doesn't want to swim, that's okay," you shrugged as you started to float around in the pool.

he’s knows you, he’s caught on to what he calls the ‘yn trend’. when you say “that’s okay, it’s fine” he knows what you really mean. he huffed and placed his book down and walked over to the pool.

"i knew you would," you teased as you made your way to the edge of the pool. spencer removed his shirt and you couldn't help but keep your eyes on his body. "wow, spence! you’ve got the body and the brains," penelope commented, lifting her sunglasses for a better look.

"i’ll only be here for a few minutes," he muttered before diving into the pool. the sudden rush of coldness left him shivering, but he quickly adjusted and began to swim around. as he explored the refreshing waters, he found himself falling in love with the pool.

"spence what’s going on with your back?" jj tilted her head. spencer turned to face jj and emily, who had come over. emily commented, "it’s so red." spencer lifted up slightly and morgan asked, "pretty boy, are you allergic to chlorine? you should've told me earlier." "i’m not allergic! i don't know what you guys are talking about." he raised his voice, combing his wet hair back.

you hadn’t been paying much attention to the conversation that had erupted about spencer’s back. you looked over to see penelope inspecting him. “it looks like scratches… reid are you seeing someone?”

you could tell that spencer was caught off guard by penelope’s question. he stuttered a bit before responding, "uh, no, i’m not seeing anyone." penelope didn't seem convinced. “okay i know i’m not a profiler like you guys but this doesn’t just happen.” she traced the scratches with the pad of her finger.

you watched spencer becoming slightly uncomfortable with the questions of his dating status. “spencer, let’s go see if it really is scratches from fingernails.” you slipped off the plastic float and went to grab a towel to wrap around your body. spencer followed you into morgan’s home and slid the patio door to limit the cool air from coming in.

“jesus, did i really do that?” you spun spencer around to look at his back. “you did.” he chuckled throwing his head down. “‘m sorry…” you felt a little guilty, you didn’t mean for him to become a target of interrogation.

“don’t worry about it… i like it when i make you feel good.” he smiled with his hand on your face, his thumb slightly grazing your face. “yeah?” you slightly smiled. “mhm.” you reached for his lips until you heard the door open.

“and now we know who the culprit is.” morgan laughed with a empty glass of piña colada of his hand.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut

[ghostbeam]

casual | dabi/touya todoroki

“My mom wants to meet you.”

It’s a sentence uttered as Touya pulls the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier (while he was pushing you toward your bed and sucking your tongue into his mouth) over his head. It comes as a shock, lying in your bed completely bare, still struggling to catch your breath. It shouldn’t make you feel excited in the way that it does, not when Touya has been more than clear about the nature of the relationship between the two of you. Nothing serious. No commitment.

Casual.

notes: hiiiii so this is just something I’ve been working on for a bittttt it’s inspired by causal by Chappell roan it’s nothing special but I just couldn’t get the idea out of my head so yeahhhh sorry for the severe lack of smut in a friends with benefits fic btw ahsjsjsjs thanks for reading hope u enjoy!!<3

warnings: 18+, minors dni, f!reader, explicit content, no quirk au, oral f!recieving, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, the todorokis are healing, dabi is called Touya throughout literally the entire thing

words: 4.1k

“My mom wants to meet you.”

It’s a sentence uttered as Touya pulls the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier (while he was pushing you toward your bed and sucking your tongue into his mouth) over his head. It comes as a shock, lying in your bed completely bare, still struggling to catch your breath. It shouldn’t make you feel excited in the way that it does, not when Touya has been more than clear about the nature of the relationship between the two of you. Nothing serious. No commitment.

Casual. 

“What?” You aren’t sure how you should respond, or what the right answer is. He shrugs, buttoning his jeans.

“You don’t have to. Just promised her I’d ask.” He says, turning around to dig through your dresser. He pulls out one of the shirts he’s left there and a pair of underwear for you, tossing the items your way. You change, covering yourself up before moving to sit in the middle of the bed, legs tucked underneath you. 

“You’ve been talking to her about me?” You question. You know it’s not what he wants to hear. 

“I’ve mentioned you.” He tells you. He’s still standing, staring down at you. Your question should have been teasing, but you were sincere. You’ve met his siblings before. You know you’re not a secret to his family, but the mention of his mom feels entirely too serious. It makes you feel hopeful. You don’t want to feel hopeful.

“Oh, yeah?” You grin, your last ditch effort at turning this back on him, to show him that you can handle casual, that you like casual. He rolls his eyes.

“It’s not a big deal.” He shrugs. “She’s met all my friends.”

“Friends like me?” You ask him. You aren’t even sure what you mean by it. Touya was your friend long before the two of you had sex. That doesn’t really make you different from the others in any real way. 

Touya is your friend. Sometimes, you wish he wasn’t.

“Friends like you…” He trails off. His eyes flicker from yours like he’s thinking about it. “No, I guess she hasn’t.”

You hum, nodding your head. You don’t want to read into what he could possibly mean by that. But, truthfully, Touya doesn’t have any friends like you.

“Whatever. I tell my mom about you. You write about me in your little diary.” He speaks, leaning down so he’s at eye level with you. He kisses you once, long and hard before pulling away. “We’ll call it even.”

He stands up straight, grabbing his keys from the top of your dresser and picking his jacket up from the floor on his way out of your bedroom. He turns back to wink at you once before disappearing through your doorway.

“It’s not a diary!” You call, but he only chuckles in response. 

…

wear that one dress read 7:42am

the blue one with the flowers read 7:42am

does ur mom like blue? sent 7:43am

?? read 7:44am

no i like blue read 7:44am

and i like you in blue read 7:45am

ok maybe sent 7:45am

…

You do not wear the dress. 

Touya chuckles when he sees you, like he knew you wouldn’t and opens the passenger side door for you. Your sweater is blue, though. 

Rei lives near the shore in a house that’s all her own. Touya tells you that he and his siblings visit as much as possible, that his sister thinks she might get lonely out on her own, but he knows she enjoys the solitude. There’s a freedom to it, the choice. Touya can understand that. 

The road is long, and once the two of you get out of the city, there’s not much to look at. You watch the weather change out the window, blue skies above slowly shift into damp overcast and Touya rests his hand on your thigh. 

He’s done it more times than you can count. It’s not unusual for Touya to touch you. He’s clingy like that. But in the car, driving two hours out of the city to meet his mother, it feels different. It is different. You want to believe that. 

She stands at the front door as the two of you pull in. Her presence is a surprise to you when you know Touya hadn’t used his phone once the entire car ride. She looks small, delicate, almost, with a strength that settles in her shoulders, her chin tilted up slightly. You see now, how much of her is in him. 

“She does this every time,” Touya speaks. “I have no clue how she knows.”

“Mother’s intuition.” You shrug. 

“It’s creepy.” 

“I think it’s cool.” You say. He flicks your forehead. 

“You would.” He squeezes your thigh once before getting out of the car. He jogs to your side and lets you out. You feel his hand brush against yours as he leads you up to the house, but he never intertwines your fingers like you wish he would. 

Rei introduces herself warmly and embraces you in a tight hug. Touya has to bend down a bit to allow her to hold him around his shoulders. She ushers the two of you inside and runs a hand through Touya’s hair, murmurs something about a haircut, but he shakes her hand off of his head and insists that he keeps it this way because you like it. You’ve never told him you liked his hair before. But it’s enough to get Rei off of his back about it because she sends you a knowing smile as you follow her into the living room. 

The visit is a standard one as far as meeting the parents goes. Touya’s favorite food has been prepared and the three of you eat as Rei asks you questions. She’s understanding when the topic of your future comes up and you aren’t sure how to answer. She’s engaged when you tell her about your hobbies. At some point, you forget you’re here with Touya until you’re reminded of his presence when you turn your head in his direction and notice an uncharacteristically soft expression on his face. It confuses you, and it makes your stomach flip. You can’t ignore the feeling of his eyes on you for the rest of the visit. 

When Rei pulls out a photo album, Touya stands up and says he’s going outside to smoke. You know part of it is because of embarrassment, old photos of such a young innocent thing, him in matching clothes with Natsuo, photos of all his bad haircuts. You also know that part of it is that he’d rather not think about that time in his life, even though his father is cut out of all the photos Rei shows you.

Rei speaks after a while, flipping through the pages of the album, “you’re good for him.”

You don’t look at her, eyeing one of Touya’s school photos from long ago. 

“What did he say I was…to him?” You question. 

“A friend.” She speaks, “But I think it’s obvious that it’s more than that.”

“Not really. I am his friend. I mean, I’m not a girlfriend or anything like that.” You try to explain. “I can’t really be good for him.”

“I think you can. I think you are.” She continues to flip through the photo album, and you continue to check the back door in case Touya walks in on your conversation. 

“It means a lot that you say that. I really care about him.” You admit it to her even though she already knows because it feels right to. You want her to know that you could love her son if he let you, that you would in a heartbeat. It’s just more complicated than that. 

“I can tell you do. And he cares about you, too. He’s just stubborn.” She pauses. “And scared.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. “Me too.”

Touya walks through the door a moment later. “We should go soon. I wanna leave before it gets dark. And I don’t need you two spilling any more secrets about me to each other.”

You freeze for a moment, wondering if he heard your earlier exchange, but the teasing tilt of his voice tells you he didn’t. 

You say goodbye to Rei, and she makes you both promise that you’ll visit her again soon. When she hugs you, firm and tight like before, you feel sad to go. Touya guides you to his car with a hand placed on the small of your back. He doesn’t open your door for you, but he holds your hand the entire way home. 

…

should we open a cafe read 2:22pm

what sent 2:25pm

or a bookstore read 2:26pm

what are u talking abt sent 2:27pm

both at the same time read 2:28pm

???? read 2:28pm

u wanna be business partners on top of being sent 2:29pm

whatever this is sent 2:29pm

fuck buddies read 2:30pm

ew sent 2:30pm

dont call it that sent 2:30pm

lovers???? read 2:32pm

pls stop sent 2:33pm

what shld we name the cafe/bookstore read 2:34pm

?? read 2:40pm

…

“Touya!” You cry, head thrown against the foggy car window as he stares up at you from between your legs. You run one hand through his hair as he runs his tongue through your folds. You whine. “Oh, my god.”

He pulls away to let out a breathy laugh, eyes finding yours as he kisses your thighs. You shift your hips forward, missing his mouth against your cunt. It’s cramped in his car, your back uncomfortably pressed against the door. Touya’s contorted in a way that allows his long body to fit in the back seat with the door closed. His comfort is an afterthought while in between your thighs.

“Don’t stop.” You cry, wiggling your hips. He grins, bringing his hand up to run two fingers gently over your clit. It’s not enough. You can barely stand it.

“Poor baby.” He coos, rubbing agonizingly slow circles over your most sensitive spot. “Were you gonna come?”

“Fuck you.” You speak through clenched teeth, moving your hips to try and grind against his fingers. 

“Not yet.” He teases, before attaching his lips to your cunt once more. His movements are hurried, making a mess of you in his backseat as he runs his tongue over your clit over and over again. You feel his hand reach up to grab your wrist, bringing it back to the top of his head. You tug on his hair, grinding against his face, understanding exactly what he wants from you. He groans against you, reaching down to touch himself through his jeans. 

“I’m close!” You whine. Every flick of his tongue is controlled, his only goal being your pleasure. His fingers dig into one of your thighs, and the feeling of your hips twitching against him drives him insane. 

“Come for me, baby.” Touya pleads, releasing his grip on your thigh and rubbing a soothing hand over the spot. “You look so fucking pretty when you come. Let me see it.”

With one last swipe of his tongue, you're pushed over the edge, legs shaking around his head as he continues movements against you. He pulls away, leaving kisses against your thighs, moving up over your stomach, your chest, your neck. He pulls you forward with one arm so that you're pressed against him. 

“C’mere.” He whispers, pressing his lips tenderly to yours, far too sweet for casual. He slips his tongue into your mouth, and you reach down to touch him over his jeans. He bucks his hips up, letting out a moan against your lips, when his phone begins to ring. He ignores it, pulling away to kiss your neck. You thumb the button of his jeans open, reaching down to touch him again, when the ringing of his phone interrupts yet again. Touya lets out an annoyed sigh, reaching into his back pocket to pull the buzzing device out. 

“What.” He speaks, voice laced with anger. When the voice on the other end of the line speaks, you know it’s Tomura. 

Touya met Tomura a few years after he met you, and you liked him. You did, but he always found a way to get under Touya’s skin at the worst times. Every comment he makes about the relationship between the two of you leaves Touya with far too much to think about. It usually pushes him away from you for a week at most, replying to your messages with short answers, canceling plans. You figure that now that he’s picked up the phone, your fun in Touya’s backseat is over. 

Touya speaks to Tomura as you pull your shirt back over your head, not bothering with your bra, just wanting to get dressed as quickly as possible. You search for your skirt, spotting it halfway underneath Touya while he tells Tomura he’s not free until Saturday night. You try to pull it out from under him, but it won’t budge.

“You’re sitting on my skirt.” You speak softly so you don’t interrupt his call. He notices immediately, lifting his hips for you to grab the piece of clothing. He mutters a quick sorry as you pull it over your legs, and you can hear Tomura question him over the phone. 

“Huh? It’s no one.” He speaks, and though you know that you’re nothing more to Touya than a “friend” as he puts it, you hoped you were more to him than “no one”.

You pull your clothes on and exit the car, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation. The car sits on a ledge, high on some mountain that overlooks a lush forest below. Touya showed you this place years ago while you were still just friends, somewhere that was just his became yours together. Back then it meant a lot to you. Now you know it probably meant nothing to him. 

Touya exits the car a couple of minutes after you, eyeing you as you stare down over the cliff. You don’t notice when he comes up beside you, a hand on your back. He says, “you okay?”

“Mhm.” You nod your head, hands crossed over your chest. “I’m tired. Can you take me home?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” He presses a kiss to your temple before walking towards the car. On your way home, when Touya’s hand begins to creep towards your thigh, you cross your legs and move your stare towards your window. When he drops you off at home, you don’t kiss him goodbye.

…

come over read 8:18pm

cant sent 8:30pm

why not read 8:31pm

im studying sent: 8:34pm

study here read 8:35pm

no sent 9:00pm

you’re distracting sent 9:00pm

…

what are you doing read 1:22pm

fuyumi wants me to invite you to lunch read 1:24pm

tell her im sorry but i have class right now sent 1:30pm

u dont have class right now read 1:32pm

?? read 1:32pm

…

where have you been read 11:11pm

i want you read 11:11pm

come over read 11:12pm

please read 11:12pm

wanna kiss you read 11:16pm

need u read 11:30pm

sorry read 10:02am

stole a bottle from natsuo read 10:03am

i wanna see you though read 10:20am

...

Touya texts…a lot.

Your excuses are weak, especially to the man who knows you better than anyone in the world, someone who’s committed your schedule to memory for the better part of two years. But you try because it hurts, because despite agreeing to casual, you cannot continue to pretend like you aren’t in love with Touya. And you can’t continue to pretend that he’s in love with you too. 

You write a lot to try and process it all. You write in your “little diary” as he called it, page after page about him and his pretty eyes, and his stupid hair, and his fucking tongue. It’s hard not to miss him. 

You screen most of his calls when you can get away with it, but he texts you after each one you miss. He has no problem with double, triple, quadruple texting you because it’s you. There’s no pressure to impress or feign disinterest with you. You know this isn’t about the sex. Touya wants his friend back.

Only the thing is, you can’t be his friend. Not now, not after crossing every single possible line with him. You’ve fallen for him. This much you can admit to yourself, but you’ll never admit it to him. 

So your only option is distance, which hurts you just as much as it hurts him. You want to send him cats you see on the street. You want to ask him to see the newest horror film with you. You want to lay in his bed and trace the lines on his face and wake up with his head buried in your neck. 

What you want is to be his girlfriend. You want him to love you back. 

You don’t know if it’s worse to be with him or without him. 

…

r you busy rn? read 5:44pm

yeah  sent 5:45pm

ok read 5:45pm

…

There’s a knock at your door at six pm on the dot while you’re thirty-seven pages deep into some cheesy romance novel you picked up to try and mend your broken heart, fill the void that you created by pushing your best friend (and the love of your life) away. 

It doesn’t help that you’re wearing one of his shirts. 

You open your door and peek through the crack. Touya stands there with a six-pack in one hand and the leather jacket he knows you love on him so much hung effortlessly over his shoulders. Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. He looks like a model and you’re wearing his T-shirt.

He doesn’t say hello, just pushes his way through and kicks his annoyingly loud boots off, setting them by the door. He places the six-pack on the counter before muttering, “Cute shirt.”

He’s teasing you. You want to strangle him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, an annoyed huff leaving your lips as you cross your arms over your chest as if it’ll hide the shirt that he’s already noticed. 

“Um, well.” He shrugs, strolling over to your couch where you left your romance novel and fuzzy blanket. He picks the book up and looks at you. “You know, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” You stomp towards him, snatching the book out of his hands. “You’re the worst. Why don’t you ever say what you actually mean.”

You know why, though. Because Touya is unknowable, or at least he thinks himself to be. That’s why he doesn’t tell you anything real but allows you to see his apartment, allows you to see him naked with all of his scars and make love to him with the lights on. He won’t say that he loves you, but he’ll leave you thirty missed calls and show up at your apartment when he doesn’t get an answer. He won’t say that he’s worried, but he is. You know that he is because you’re the only person who’s ever really known him, even before the sex. Touya has always been yours. If Touya thinks you know nothing, at the very least he thinks you know this. 

“Yeah.” He says. “You know, it’s funny cause, all of a sudden my best friend stopped talking to me. Not exactly not talking because she does answer my texts, still. Sometimes she answers my calls, but not really. But, I haven’t seen her in person in weeks. I miss her, and her stupid face, and her giant comfy couch.”

“Touya–” You begin to speak, but you don’t even know what you’re going to say. You’re definitely not going to explain yourself. You’re not going to confess to him wearing his t-shirt like some sad ex-girlfriend. 

“Where did you go?” He asks. His voice breaks and it's like a blade in your heart. “Did I do something? Did I say something?”

“I didn’t go anywhere, Touya. I’m here. I’m here, I just–” you pause, trying to find the words to explain it all. “I don’t think we can do this anymore.”

“Do what?” He asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question. He knows what’s coming.

“Sleeping together. I don’t–I can’t–” You try again, but it’s fucking hard to talk to him. You want to kiss him. You want to fall into his arms. You want him to make you forget.

“Done.” He says. He doesn’t hesitate, and it hurts. “We can stop, we can–I just want you back. I want you with me. We can be just friends again, but please, please don’t leave.”

Tears fill your eyes at his words. He’s finally talking to you, finally saying something real, baring his soul, and you can’t tell him that you’ll stay. You love him so much, but you’re selfish. 

“We can’t be friends either.” You choke, staring at the floor. If you look into his eyes, you’ll break. 

“Why?” He shakes his head, “Talk to me, what’s happening? What changed?”

“Why do you care so much, Touya? I thought I was no one.” The words leave your lips before you can stop them. 

“When did I say that?” He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember and it’s the one thing you’ve been agonizing over for weeks. 

“What is it about Tomura that makes you shut down around me?” You ask him. Realization falls across his face. “Every time you talk to him you…pull away. I don’t know what to do with that.”

“I don’t pull away.” He argues.

“You do.”

“Is that what you’re doing? You’re trying to get back at me or something?”

“I’m trying to fucking–get over you!” 

There’s nothing but silence after your confession. Your eyes fall closed in defeat, admitting the one thing you never wanted him to know. 

“I can’t do casual. I am not casual. I tried to be cool. I was really good at it for a while, but now it just hurts.” You speak, voice shaking as you gain the courage to say everything you need to. “The thing is, I love you. And not how I’ve always loved you. I’m in love with you. So it sucks when, you know, I know you’re not in love with me.”

“Who told you I’m not in love with you?” He asks.

“You’re mean.” You say, glaring at him for the unnecessary question. No one told you. You just know. “It’s obvious.”

“Yeah? Is it?” He asks. “You think I bring anyone to meet my mom? You have half of my wardrobe here. You have a toothbrush and all of your stupid skincare shit at mine. I hold your hand in public. I text you good morning and shit.”

“So that means you’re in love with me?”

“Fuck, I thought it did.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. His roots are grown out, you notice. Have you really been gone that long?

“I don’t understand.” Touya is in love with you. Is that what he’s getting at? 

“I love you.” He shakes his head, remembering your words from earlier. Not how I’ve always loved you. “I’m in love with you. That’s–Tomura knows. He knew it before I did. He says some dumb shit about it every time I talk about you, and it scares me, so I pull away. I didn’t know it felt like this. I’m fucking miserable.”

“When did you know?” You ask.

“Honestly? I think I always have been. I think that’s why I brought up sleeping together. I wanted to be closer to you without all of the commitment. But it was when you came to dinner that time when my dad showed up.” He walks toward you slowly as he speaks. He’s becoming more sure of himself, open. He’s done hiding. “And when we left, you were so fucking angry. You just ranted about him the whole way home, and it clicked. We were at a stop light and you were moving your hands all around and I thought ‘fuck, please don’t fall in love with this girl’, but it was too late and I knew it.”

“I think this is the most you’ve ever said to me.” You say dumbly. Touya just confessed his love to you and this is what you say?

“That’s not true. I never shut up. You know that. You tell me that all the time.”

“I mean–not, like, about music, or books, or someone who came into work. I mean real, raw, ‘fuck, don't fall in love with this girl’ shit.” You explain, a sly grin falling across your lips.

“You’re a dick.” He chuckles, wrapping his fingers around one of your wrists, and dragging you toward him. 

“Yeah, but you’re in love with me.” You shrug, smiling up at him. 

“Yeah, I really fucking am.” He says before he leans down to kiss you. It feels right, familiar. It is like all of the others because there’s always been love. It’s always been there. He’s always been yours. Touya knows you know this. “Please don’t…pull away again.”

“Okay.” You agree, resting your forehead against his. 

“Cause I’m just gonna chase after you.”

“Yeah? Gonna show up at my apartment with beer I don’t like?” You tease, and he rolls his eyes. 

“Fuck you.” He says with absolutely no venom behind it.

“Yeah, maybe you should.” You grin. 

#dabi x reader #dabi x female reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x female reader #bnha x reader

[highvern]

Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter. 

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement. 

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding. 

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy— 

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back. 

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor. 

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop. 

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as  “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place. 

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough. 

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now. 

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation. 

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette. 

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it. 

“You know those things will kill you, right?” 

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth.  “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.” 

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs. 

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means. 

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music. 

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach. 

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name. 

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection. 

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct.  “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence. 

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?” 

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance. 

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down. 

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin. 

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf. 

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his. 

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs. 

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation. 

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along. 

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?” 

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.” 

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books. 

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months. 

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs. 

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers. 

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch. 

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’ 

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours. 

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again. 

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth. 

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull. 

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive. 

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder. 

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider. 

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted? 

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been. 

“They were out.” 

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing. 

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.” 

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines. 

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.” 

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?” 

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen. 

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen. 

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning. 

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom. 

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?” 

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.” 

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back. 

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt. 

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg. 

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely. 

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head. 

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy. 

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth. 

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry. 

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down. 

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens. 

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load. 

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side. 

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth. 

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter. 

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school. 

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed. 

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument. 

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now. 

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

#kvanity #ksmutsociety #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #🫡 highvern

[candy-rat]

☀️ˏˋ°•*⁀➷✧Puppy Love✧

♡ Percy Jackson x Fem!Apollo Reader

♥︎ Summary: you attempt to teach the cute boy you may or may not have some feelings for how to better work a bow and arrow. || Percy blurb!

☆ Warnings: None!

(ofc i know the relations between Apollo, Zeus, And Poseidon but the readers relation w Percy and the reader is the same w him and annabeth so use that info as u must) 

★ A/N:  I’ve only ever read the first and a bit of the second book + the two movies so this is based off the new series(Walker Scobell) + plus I have the BIGGEST crush on Walker Scobell.

♪ Credits: Ty Bunny’s RPH for the divider<3

+Barely Proof read

It was another sunny day at Camp Half-Blood, kids either chasing each other around or actually putting effort to train and what nots.

Surprisingly the archery field was as empty as ever, which is why you find yourself here.

As the daughter of Apollo you tend to neglect your gift of archery rather finding yourself in simple socialization, but today you thought differently.

Your dad would be proud, wouldn’t he?

As you were in the middle of your archery session you swore you heard the sound of bushes rustling.

The sudden noise caused you to turn around, trying to identify where the noise was coming from.

You were met with the sight of a boy.

Not just any boy.

Percy Jackson.

With earlier memory you can recollect, the boy was definitely not the best with a bow and arrow, so why would he be here?

“Uh, hi” the boy spoke up.

“Oh uh, hi?” You responded in a confused yet optimistic tone.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

You’ve seen the boy on multiple other occasions, you never really talked to him before.

To be honest with yourself, you probably had the slightest crush on the boy.

The tiniest one of course, you barely knew him.

“So, do you need something? Or?” you spoke, breaking the silence.

“Oh! Uh yeah I did, yeah.” He replied with a slight crack in his voice.

Another moment of silence.

“Uhm, what do you need, uh Percy was it?” You questioned.

You didn’t need to ask, of course you knew his name.

It’s not creepy, word just gets around you know?

“Yeah uh that- that’s my name, you’re (Name) right? Daughter of Apollo?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, that’s me.” You replied.

“You’re like really good at archery right?” He asked once more.

“You could say that, being the daughter of Apollo kinda you know comes with it, but my older siblings are definitely better.” You confirmed.

“Well I was uh wondering-“ he responded.

“Mhm?” You simply hummed in reply.

“If you could, i don’t know uh teach me how to get better at archery?” He finally let out.

You looked at your bow and back at Percy.

You wonder exactly why he asked you.

Maybe he just came here in hopes to ask the first person he sees, or maybe he was looking for you specifically.

That’s a nice thought.

“Really?! Okay, I don’t mind!”you replied.

“You don’t?!” He replied.

“Of course not! I don’t have much to do anyway.” You giggled.

Before anything you told him the basics, how to stand, how to correct your breathing, and how to aim better.

The day went on.

Percy missed the target completely most times.

But once he finally got remotely close, you had to say you were proud of the blonde.

You were happy to even spend time with him.

“There you go Percy! That was great, you’re getting better!” You chuckled, swinging you arm over his shoulder squeezing him a bit.

He froze at the sudden contact for a moment.

“Thanks! I really c-couldn’t have done it without you, you know!” He went on blushing.

“Awe don’t sweat it, it comes naturally so I never need to put much in to it, but thanks!” You thanked the boy, feeling your face heat up.

Percy handed you the bow back queuing the end of your lesson.

“You know if you ever want me to teach you again I’d be happy to, just swing by cabin 7 I’m usually there.” You mentioned.

“Yeah sure, but about that-“ he started.

“About what?”

“Well uh, seeing each other again you know? Like not during training” He blushed.

“O-oh! Yeah i wouldn’t mind at all, I enjoy your company!” You responded.

“Really?!” Percy added.

“Yeah really.” You confirmed.

“I uh- like being around you too.” Percy smiled.

The two of you got along perfectly.

Like a puzzle piece.

You definitely had a crush on him.

He might like you back.

Percy definitely is too scared to confess anytime soon.

And maybe that’s good.

Love takes time.

Especially puppy love.

A/n: innocent puppy love is deff the vibe I’ll always go for with my Percy fics so hopefully I’ll have time to do more      (Miles 42 fic in the making!!!!)<3

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #walker scobell #Walker Scobell<3 #Writer #writers on tumblr #x reader #fanfic #x reader fanfiction

[dollfaceksj]

the pink pill | myg version (m) — “no one else”

➥ banner by @jkndigo.

➥ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ porn with plot ⋆ exes

➥ CATEGORY: one-shot [part of the pink pill series]

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, angst, exes but also idiots, degradation kink, unprotected sex (dont be like them), rough sex but also love-making??, did i mention a bit of angst, multiple positions guys yoongi is catching up for missing u all those times likeee, spankingggg, making out w tongue, overstimulation, claiming/possessiveness, multiple orgasms for reader, extremelyhorny!reader, cocky exboyfriend!yoongi…. yeah., hes a sick son of a bitch but thats why we like him besides he’s pretty tame in this i have worse yoongi’s up my sleeve this is nothin, neither of you have moved on, mutual pining but mutual STUBBORNNESSSSS for fucks sake, filthy words, creampie, oral sex (f. rec), embarrassingly quick climaxes likeee, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 9.8k

a/n: and at last, yoongi’s ver of the pink pill is finally out!!! thank you for loving jk’s version! i hope you enjoy yoongi’s. beware of a bit of angst and complicated feelings<33

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⋆ MASTERLIST & CONCEPT VIDEO ⋆

Your trembling thumb hovers over the blue arrow next to your unsent message, eyes scanning over the message over and over again. Your heart might implode in your chest the moment you hit send, which is why you’ve been staring at the message that would cause more cons than pros for the past 5 minutes.

Well, would it, though? It’s just a favor. You need a favor.

It’s like your brain is talking directly to your heart. Your brain is telling you how bad of an idea this is whilst your heart is just rolling its non-existent eyes at the nagging, as if your heart isn’t about to slide up your airways into your esophagus, travel straight up your burning throat and launch out of your mouth. You need to calm down.

The aggravating lump in your throat doesn’t let up.

And that’s when the pad of your thumb impulsively hits the damn blue arrow that’s been mockingly staring at you for the past few minutes.

[11:12PM]

from: You

to: Ignore

can you come over

Once the small letters that say ‘delivered’ pop up under your blue message, you internally scream into the void. Your eyes stay glued to your phone, the back of your phone is becoming slimy in your grasp due to the sweat your palms are rapidly producing.

You barely blink as you stare at the screen, your lips twitching as you wait and attempt to ignore the anxiety bubbling in your chest.

Your gaze slowly shifts upwards on the conversation, rereading old messages. The last you heard from him was 4 months ago. The two of you broke up around 9 months ago but still slept together for a good 2-3 months after.

The last message between you two from 4 months ago was you asking him when he could come pick up the rest of his shit. He came, picked up his shit and that’s when you last saw him. You barely exchanged any words. You had anticipated having sex one last time but he just wordlessly collected his stuff and left.

So, it’s understandable why you’d be so worried about asking him to come over and… well, ask him if he can fuck the shit out of you.

Your heart plummets into the pit of the earth when you notice the ‘delivered’ has turned into ‘read 11:13PM’.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

He’s not responding.

Why is he not responding?

One minute passes. Two minutes pass. Three minutes. Four.

You’ve been staring at your phone the entire time and not once did the bubble that indicates he’s typing pop up.

What if he doesn’t even want to talk to you?

Fuck.

What the fuck were you even thinking?

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After cleaning up the coffee table that was covered in snacks and empty cans that you used to take your mind off the excruciating arousal pooling in your core, you start heading into your once-shared bedroom with your head held down. It’s been 12 minutes since you sent that message and you haven’t gotten a response.

You’re a damn loser.

You plan to start slipping out of your plain shirt and shorts, cringing when you realize you’ve completely soaked through your cotton shorts. How fucking embarrassing. What the hell is in that pill?

Right as your fingers tuck under the hem of your shorts to pull them down your legs, you hear a rhythmic knock on your front door.

What? Who could…

Wait.

It possibly couldn’t be.

The lump returns to your throat at lightning speed as you start heading down your corridor, sluggishly dragging your feet across the floor.

You press your hand flat against the door in an attempt to gather your thoughts and collect your breath before you slowly start opening up, his familiar feline eyes staring at you with an agitated look pooling in them.

“What do you want?” He doesn’t even have the decency to greet you, he just stands there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants.

You quietly swallow as you cross your arms over your chest, stepping to the side to wordlessly invite him in. When he gives you a raised eyebrow in confusion, you say, “I don’t need my neighbors hearing my business.”

The exasperated sigh he lets out slightly stings but he walks in nonetheless. You close the door behind him but he’s showing no intentions or moves to take his shoes off. He just stands in front of the door, annoyance draped over his features.

You silently stare up at him, hoping he doesn’t notice your strange demeanor.

“So? Are you gonna tell me what you want or are you just gonna stare at me and continue to waste my time?” His words are blunt and brutal—the bitterness that he still holds in his heart for you hasn’t left him, it seems.

You finally find the courage to speak up and quietly say, “I need a favor, Yoongi.”

He blankly stares at you for a few moments. Humorlessly laughs at your request. Drops his head. Shakes it from side to side in disbelief.

You can’t help but glare at his reaction, fighting the urge to roll your eyes and spew insulting words at him. This is kind of selfish of you.

“Why would I do you a favor?” he asks once he’s stopped laughing, staring you down with hooded eyelids and no traces of mock amusement left on his face.

“I’ll owe you,” you say, failing to hide the clear annoyance in your tone. You want to strangle him.

“You already owe me.” His response is almost immediate, leaving you speechless for a few seconds as you stare up at him with a frown etched onto your brows.

“Excuse me? What the fuck do I owe you?”

He tilts his head to the side with an irritated look on his face before he says, “I don’t know, you wasted 3 years of my fucking life?”

You exaggeratedly roll your eyes at his words, shaking your head in exasperation. “I could quite literally say the same to you.”

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, his intense stare down never letting up.

He decides to ignore your remark and repeats, “What do you want, Y/N?”

You swallow again, looking to the side to avoid his penetrating gaze as you think about how the fuck you’re going to ask him what you want to ask him.

How do you even begin to ask?

Hey, you haven’t heard from me in months but could you fuck me real quick?

“What? Do you need money?” he asks in a neutral tone, although you can sense the concern tinged in his words.

“No,” you mumble, the collar of your shirt is starting to feel like it’s closing in around the perimeter of your neck with the goal of suffocating you.

He continues, “Then what? An alibi?”

You throw your head back in exasperation as you groan, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

It’s quiet for a moment and it makes you look at him. You notice he’s staring straight at you like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on and what you aren’t telling him.

“Need some lovin’?” he asks with a certain humorous tone, the joke causing you to glance up at him through your lashes with big eyes.

It seems like only then that he takes notice of your swollen lips, your dilated pupils, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead and the quickened breathing with the way his eyes scan your entire face and the frown on his brows slowly disappearing when the realization dawns on him.

He narrows his eyes at you and his hands leave his pockets, swiftly moving to cross over his chest as his lips twitch, something you can only describe as him trying to stifle a smirk. “You actually asked me to come over so I could come fuck you?”

Your mind travels at incomprehensible speed to come up with an answer, leaving you scrambled and almost stuttering. You blurt out, “It’s your fault.”

This makes his brows pinch together in utter confusion. “How the hell is it my fault?”

A deep sigh pushes past your lips as you drop your arms from your chest, hands resting on your hips as you look at the floor in shame. “I was cleaning shit up and I came across that dumb pink pill you bought that you wanted me to try but never got the chance to,” you explain, peeking up at him through your lashes momentarily before averting your gaze again.

“Pill? What pink pill?” he repeats, the frown on his face deepening further as the word leaves his mouth.

“Yes, that stupid pink pussycat pill, Yoongi. We bought it as a joke to try on our anniversary but then we had that stupid fight.” You try to get him to recall the events of a year ago, the quick wince on his face at the mention of your anniversary fight doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Anyway, I didn’t want it to go to waste and I was wondering what it might feel like or if it even works. So, I took it earlier today, for shits and giggles.”

He slowly nods to your words as the memories come back to him, seemingly remembering how excited he was for you to take that pill. “So, I reckon the pill is doing what it said it would?”

You merely grunt in response.

He’s silent for a few seconds before quietly chuckling, shaking his head. His chuckle is so deep and sultry, it shoots a tingle right down your soaked panties.

You huff, “What’s so amusing, you dickhead?”

He glances at you through his brows for a moment before averting his gaze, his eyes roaming his surroundings as he looks around your once-shared home. “I’m just flattered, is all.”

“Flattered?” you repeat, a disapproving frown on your features. He’s turning this entire thing into a compliment for himself.

You really can’t fucking stand him.

“You could’ve flaunted that pretty face out at some bar and gotten someone to fuck you without needing to offer any favors,” he explains, giving you a glimpse of his thought process, those words making your body heat up all over again.

Damn him.

You know Yoongi has always found you insanely attractive but him so nonchalantly reminding you has set your insides aflame.

“You know I don’t do that stuff,” you mumble with a shake to your head.

His bitter, humorless chuckle booms in your ears. Why does it sound like he’s literally inside your head? “That’s exactly how we met, you dirty liar.” He reminds you of how his hips were slamming into yours an hour after you met him and no rebuttal comes to your mind.

You silently stare at him, bringing your hand up to wipe some of the sweat off your hairline with the back of your index finger.

“Yeah, you know what? I don’t know why I even texted you. You can leave,” you say, a surge of anger coursing through your veins as you reach for the door handle but Yoongi is quicker than you.

His hand quickly reaches for yours, fingers wrapping tightly around your wrist. “I can tell you why you did,” he quips, cockily.

You glare up at him but make no effort to remove his hand from your skin, the single touch of his skin against yours sends lava down all your veins and every single one of your nerve-endings. Fuck, you wish you could pounce him right fucking now. You finally gather your thoughts and say, “Oh, please, do enlighten me.”

“You asked me here because you don’t want all that arousal to go to waste on someone that doesn’t know your body like I do.” He starts closing the gap between you two, face closing in on yours. “They won’t do the things you like.”

Your throat tightens at his proximity and his words, your lungs seconds away from imploding in between your ribcage.

“And you’re too shy to tell them because you know you like filthy things.” He moves his other hand up to trace the shell of your ear with the tip of his index finger, his eyes glued to how his finger glides down your skin.

If he noticed his touch instantly awoke the goosebumps on your skin, he doesn’t comment on it and continues to play with your ear, fingers coming down to rub your earlobe in between the pads of his thumb and index finger.

“No one knows your body like I do, no one else.” He drops his hand from your ear to trace the collar of your shirt, the tip of his finger occasionally grazing your neck. “No one knows how filthy you are. How needy you are. How you like to be touched and kissed. That’s how I know,” he concludes.

He adds, “You clearly haven’t moved on.”

He was doing so well, too.

Haven’t moved on? Son of a bitch.

“Yeah, well, what about you?” you blurt out. You watch as his thick eyebrows scrunch together in smug mockery.

“What about me? Don’t turn this on me, sweetheart. You’re the one asking me to come fuck you.” He starts to take off his shoes, kicking them aside like he used to do.

Cocky asshole.

“You showed up 10 minutes after a simple ‘come over’ text, no questions asked.” You remind him of tonight’s events and his face slowly turns into a scowl, his usual quick witty comebacks suddenly nonexistent.

“So what?” he mumbles, not in the mood to fight you for this any longer because he knows he’ll lose.

“Just admit you want this as bad as I do instead of being smart about it,” you say, rolling your eyes as you take a step back to create some more distance between you two. You hadn’t realized he’d gotten that close.

He shrugs his shoulders with an air of nonchalance, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “I wouldn’t say as bad as you.”

Right, because you took that pill and your arousal is off the charts.

He must think he’s sooooooo funny.

“You’re a lia–”

Before you can even finish speaking, he takes a step closer and it inevitably traps you in between his body and the wall behind you. He arrogantly adds, “Want me to push my fingers into your panties and check?”

Fuck.

He shouldn’t still have the ability to knock the oxygen right out of your lungs with just silly words. He shouldn’t.

You stare up at him with a furrow in your brows, eyes wide and lips almost quivering, simply at the thought of him touching you. Damn him.

And he knows.

Because his gaze drops to your lips before back to your eyes, the corners of his own lips curling up at something he’s thinking about.

“What?” you grumble, your voice barely coming out and leaving you for dead in your time of need.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head and adds a shrug to his shoulders for extra nonchalance. “I just think after you ran your mouth like this, it’d be more fun to make you beg for it.”

Your hands come up to his chest, pressing flat against him to push him back but he doesn’t budge an inch because there’s no real strength behind the push and he knows it.

“I hate you,” you quietly say, hands still pressed up against his chest with the tiniest bit of pressure to make it seem like you don’t want him.

Unfortunately, Yoongi knows you too well.

“That’s fine, as long as you’re good to me.” The words leave his mouth in a breathy chuckle that drapes over your lips as his face closes in on yours, plump lips grazing the skin of your jaw. “You were always so good to me.”

“Why did you leave me, then?” Your voice comes out a bit choked, a big gulp following your question and it’s almost like you’re attempting to swallow the words back down. You can’t believe you just blurted that out. Is one of the side effects of that dumb pink pill being emotional as hell?

He freezes for a few seconds before pulling away and searching for your eyes. His expression is decorated by a frown and his pretty lips are pressed into a thin line.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, just lets the deafening silence settle around you. Stares at you as if one of the world’s greatest unsolved mysteries is being revealed to him and the answer is in your irises. Watches as you idly blink at him and it makes his lips twitch. Seems to be in deep thought and you can’t figure out what’s going through his mind for the life of you.

Then, he speaks.

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

His words paired with his intense gaze sends a jolt of electricity down your spine, leaving your legs to wobble like they’re made of jelly.

You both stare at each other for a while in complete silence. His familiar, black, feline eyes staring into yours so intimately summon a vine that wraps around your heart, digging its sharp thorns into your most beloved organ until it bleeds out all over your insides.

He’s right.

You clearly haven’t moved on.

“Let’s just,” you pause and shake your head free of those thoughts. You don’t bother to finish your sentence as you wrap your fingers around his wrist, leading him toward your once-shared bedroom and he simply lets you.

As soon as you walk in, you let go of his hand and reach for the hem of your shirt. You yank it off your body without a second of hesitation before tossing it somewhere on the floor and it makes him chuckle for some reason.

You turn to glare at him. “Something funny?” you snark, arms crossing over your chest like a child that wanted the purple lollipop instead of the yellow one.

He stares at you from the entrance of your room, an amused smile still on his pretty lips. His eyes scan the walls and the furniture as he slowly makes his way in, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I see that you’ve changed the entire room.”

Your eyes follow the direction of his gaze, scanning around the room as if you’d forgotten what you changed about the place. “Yeah.”

He struts toward you, getting so close that he’s practically pressed up against you. His onyx eyes stare you down, one of his infamous unreadable expressions plastered on his face. “Trying to act like I never existed?” he asks, hands still buried in his pockets and fuck, how you wish he would just give in and touch you.

You simply blink up at him, your eyes pingpong-ing between his eyes from left to right continuously as you try to think of a way to answer.

Should you lie? Should you just be honest?

As if on cue, your question is answered when he lazily places his right hand on your hip, pulling you even closer to him.

Be honest.

“No.” You shake your head slightly, never breaking eye contact with the enticing man in front of you. “I was never going to forget about you if everywhere I looked just reminded me of you.”

His hand tenses on your hip, a muscle in his jaw tenses up and your eyes are just in time to catch the way his Adam’s apple bounces up and down.

You shift your eyes back up to his, blinking your eyelids at him so innocently yet so full of temptation. He slowly starts nodding his head as if he just had an epiphany and then moves his hand from your hip to your waist.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, thumb rubbing circles onto your bare skin.

You shrug your shoulders smugly. “Thought you’d never ask.”

He doesn’t need anything else. His lips are on top of yours the moment the words leave your mouth, teeth clashing at how quickly he lunges at you.

His mouth devours you like a man starved as his other hand grips the back of your head to keep you in his grasp, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.

Several soft moans resound in your throat that he simply swallows, hand balling into a fist on the back of your head, gripping your hair at the root.

You mewl, your hands coming up to squeeze his biceps as you try to grind your hips into his. Fuck, you’re like a fucking animal in heat.

“Fuck, I’m barely touching you and you’re this needy,” he whispers against your open mouth before shoving his tongue back in.

Your insides are set ablaze when he starts pushing you backwards with his own body until your calves hit the mattress and automatically makes you fall backwards, dropping onto your bed.

He wastes no time climbing on top of you, lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down the column of your throat to the strap of your bra as he gently starts tugging them off your shoulders.

You automatically arch your back off the mattress, encouraging him to unclasp your bra and he does.

Whilst he unclasps your bra, he coats your collarbones in soft kisses and absentmindedly throws your bra to the side as he brings his hand back up to fondle your breast in his large hand.

“Fuck,” you whisper, every single inch of his touch electrifies your body and sets your soul alight. Damn, you’ve missed this.

His thumb gently teases your erect nipple, rolling it around whilst he continues to nibble on the skin of your neck.

Your hips involuntarily buck upwards into nothing and you almost flinch at the way his breath grazes your neck when Yoongi softly chuckles, clearly finding your extreme level of arousal amusing.

“Can you just stop teasing me?” you whine, legs spreading wider and wider without a second thought.

“You’re gonna have to ask a lot nicer if you want me to do that, sugar.” He lifts his head off your shoulder and closes in on your other breast, wrapping his lips around it whilst his hand slowly travels down your stomach to your clothed sex. He starts sucking on your nipple and the effects of that pill makes it so it feels like he’s touching you all over, on every part of your body, on every inch of your skin. Causes you to squirm and moan under him like a fish separated from a body of water.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, “I should’ve made you take that pill so fucking long ago. Look at you.”

You simply grumble, “Fuck you.”

He lifts his head off your breast to stare at you directly in the eyes and you instantly regret running your mouth. “Yoongi, I just want–”

Smack!

“Ow!” you cry out, the warmth of the slap on your pussy spreading through your skin like wildfire. You instantly whimper, “I’m sorry.”

The apology means nothing to him, though.

He shakes his head. “Always running that fucking mouth of yours.” His fingers tuck under the hem of your shorts and he slides them down your legs before tossing them aside like he has personal beef with the article of clothing.

“Holy shit,” he whispers as he glances at the massive wet patch on your panties and all the slick smeared around your inner thighs, eyes practically bulging out of his eye sockets.

You can’t help but frown, though. “What?”

“No wonder,” he says, seemingly answering his own unspoken question. “You are completely soaked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucking horny.”

You whine, tucking your thumbs under the hem of your panties to drag them down your legs and he doesn’t even try to stop you, just simply stares at you in awe but your panties don’t budge an inch when you stop and decide to just give in, in hopes he’ll fall for your tricks.

“Please, just,” you yelp, “fuck me. Please. I think I’ll die if you don’t.”

He throws his head back as he laughs, his gorgeous neck on full display for you. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Yoongi,” you pause, “I’m so fucking serious. I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day. I need you to. Please.”

He searches your face and seemingly takes note of the desperation and earnestness in your eyes. Shortly after, he drags his gaze down your exposed body, simply staring at your naked figure.

Sprawled out on your bed, lips swollen, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin, pupils dilated, breasts bare with nipples standing at attention and your arousal that has already started dripping onto your sheets.

He slowly starts to nod his head and in the blink of an eye, he yanks his own shirt off.

The view of his bare chest brings back so many memories, all the times he fucked you good come rushing back to you and it isn’t fucking helping your case.

A persistent lump forms in your throat that refuses to disappear but that’s when you realize that it’s not just a lump but words. The words ‘I miss you’ are forcing their way to the tip of your tongue, threatening to spill.

But you absolutely refuse to let that happen.

Just bite your tongue.

“All day, huh?” he muses, talking more to himself. He quickly ditches his sweatpants in the meantime and tosses them off the bed. “What took you so long to text me?”

You silently watch as he crawls back over to you in just his black boxers, settling right next to your body and supporting his own weight with his elbow while his other hand returns to your panties. Teasingly plays with the hem. Presses his lips against your neck. Inhales your scent.

You stay quiet for a few moments, eyes shut tightly at the tip of his fingers brushing against your pelvis. So close yet so far. “My pride,” you finally reply.

He simply chuckles at your words and slowly tucks his fingers under the hem of your panties, groaning when the back of his knuckles brush against the sticky patch of your arousal on the inside of your panties. “I don’t think I’ve seen this amount of wetness. Not even in porn.”

His skin finally makes contact with your sex, running right up your wet slit and collecting all of your arousal on the tip of his finger. “Holy fucking shit, Y/N.”

You mewl, hips already thrusting up into his hand but he simply uses his palm to press down on your pelvis.

“Stay still.” The demand makes your insides twist into a wringed out shirt and makes your pussy clench around nothing.

“I can’t,” you whimper, legs shaking at the simple touch of his fingers smearing your arousal all over your sex. “I’m trying to but I can’t.”

It’s like you have no control over your body whatsoever. You just want to be fucked.

“Why can’t you?” he quips as he plunges two fingers right into you, groaning when your slick walls tightly hug his fingers. He already knows, he just likes to push your buttons.

“Because I want you,” you breathe out, moaning at the sensation of his fingers slowly pumping into you. Your sensitivity is off the fucking charts, just his fingers being buried in your pussy without any movement whatsoever could have you cumming in no time.

“I can tell,” he cockily chuckles. His sultry laugh is so full of mockery, the type that would usually piss you the fuck off but in this moment turns you the fuck on. “I just need to prep you, baby. Can’t be hurting you simply because you’re writhing like an animal in heat.”

You quickly shake your head. “I don’t need any fucking prep,” you moan as his hand picks up in pace. “Please, just fuck me. I’m already wetter than I’ve ever been. You literally just said it yourself.”

He lifts his head off your collarbones and searches your eyes for a moment, a stern frown on his brows. “Are you sure?”

Yoongi’s always been into manhandling you and being rough but only when it’s pleasurable for you. He’d usually go down on you or work you towards an orgasm using just his fingers, in hopes it’d have you ready to take him.

So, no, he’s not used to just jumping in and fucking you.

You quickly nod your head. “Never been more sure.”

He stares at you for a moment longer but the sincerity in your eyes is prominent. He then simply spreads your folds with his sticky fingers, smearing your arousal all over your sex before pulling his fingers out of your pussy, the sounds leaving your sex almost embarrassing you.

He slides his hand out of your panties and glances at his hand, eyes scanning his fingers coated in your pussy slick.

“Fuck, look at that,” he whispers but doesn’t even grant you the time to look when he immediately shoves his fingers into his mouth, sucking all your arousal off his digits.

“Yoongi,” you whine, clenching around nothing as you watch him.

“Fuck, princess,” he grunts as he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. “It’s been too long. I’m gonna need to eat that.”

You want to protest but he’s already pulling you toward him by your thighs, settling in between them as he’s now face to face with your slick-covered panties.

“I want to be fucked,” you whine, staring down at him between your legs but his eyes are just focused on your panties.

He replies, “And I want to fucking eat you out so you’re gonna have to be patient, you little brat.”

You don’t have the time to whine any more when he pushes your panties to the side and the single action could have you coming undone, right here, right now.

He idly stares at your glistening pussy like he’s Monkey D. fucking Luffy and he found the One Piece after years of venturing the seas.

“Why are you staring like that?” you quietly ask, unfortunately not possessing enough strength to close your thighs out of self-consciousness.

With a simple shake of his head, his face closes in on your sex and he licks a long stripe up your pussy, collecting a great amount of your arousal in a single swipe of his hungry tongue.

But you’re oozing so much wetness that he simply keeps going, licking all around your sex before focusing on your swollen, angry clit. He wraps his lips around your sensitive pleasure nub and starts sucking, coating his entire chin in your juices.

“Fuck!” you cry, reaching over to pull on his roots, fingers tangled in his soft black locks.

The sensitivity you’re experiencing is too much. “I’m gonna fucking cum, Yoongi.” You’re not even joking.

“Already?” he hums in mockery before wrapping his lips around your clit again and sucks some more with no regard of overstimulating you.

You quickly nod your head and within the next few seconds, you’re cumming all over his tongue and around his mouth. A cry rips through your throat and you’re sobbing at this point, pulling so hard on his roots that it causes him to hiss in pain.

Grinding your hips up into his face, into his nose, into his mouth. You can’t believe how quickly that stupid pink pill has you levitating off the bed, it’s like you don’t even belong on Earth anymore.

The orgasm hits you like none ever before, leaving you even more sensitive. You came within barely, what? A minute of stimulation? Two? Oh, you’re so done for.

You push against Yoongi’s head in hopes he’ll stop and he does—after giving your swollen clit one last slurp.

“Holy shit.” You can’t believe that just happened.

“That was really fast. What was that? A minute? A minute and 30 seconds?” he laughs as he sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’s that fucking pill,” you mumble defensively, trying to catch your breath.

A low chuckle leaves his mouth before he glances down at the bulge in his boxers. “Well,” he pauses, “you should take that pill more often.”

You roll your eyes with all the brattiness you can muster, hoping it annoys him as much as he annoys you. “This is the last time I’m even letting you in here, I hope you know that.”

His eyes shift back up to yours and he tilts his head to the side in question, blinking at you with a glimmer in his eyes that you can’t quite describe.

You stare back, trying your best not to look fucked out right now but you know you’re failing horribly at it when he simply shakes his head and lets out a bitter chuckle.

“You just wanted to use me one last time, hm?” he scoffs as his fingers tuck under the hem of his boxers, sliding them down his thighs and tossing them off the bed.

A surge of guilt spreads through your chest when you realize how that must’ve sounded to him. “You know that’s not what I meant, Yoongi.”

“No?” he muses, placing his hands on the back of your thighs before pushing them all the way against the mattress on each side of your body. You know your body isn’t supposed to be able to do this, apparent by the strain in your inner thighs but for some reason, it doesn’t bother you as much.

“No,” you whimper as he uses his own weight to keep your thighs spread, sliding his rock hard dick in between your folds handsfree, but not entering you just yet. It has you squeezing your eyelids shut, trying to focus on the feeling of his rock hard cock—all the ridges and veins on his dick—rubbing so good against your swollen clit.

“I don’t believe you,” he says, watching as you squirm from the slightest bit of friction that he has full control over. It makes you want to smack that grin right off his face.

“I swear,” you sniff, not even being able to thrust your hips up for more friction because Yoongi’s weight and strength keeps you restrained.

He simply hums in response, continuing to slide his dick over your slit, completely coating his shaft in your slick. “If you want me to believe you,” he pauses as his eyes shift up to yours, “you’re going to have to beg and convince me. Tell me how what you just said isn’t true.”

“Please,” you say, no hesitation. “Please, I didn’t mean that. I–just fuck me. I swear I don’t want anyone else to be in your position right now, I only want you. No one else knows me like you, no one.”

He continues to simply watch your face twist in borderline agony from the lack of friction, the sensation you so desperately crave.

“That so?” His tone is filled with so much arrogance that it makes your veins burn with lava.

You merely hum in response and finally crack your eyelids open, just to see him staring into your eyes with that familiar glint in his. Fuck.

“Ready?” he whispers, lining his tip up with your hole and cockily chuckles when you eagerly nod your head.

He abruptly freezes. “Ah, fuck, wait.” His dick is not on your slit anymore and it makes you frown at him.

“What?”

He groans, “I have no condoms.”

For fuck’s sake.

“I mean,” you start, “you’re the last person I had sex with. Did you have sex with anyone after me?”

You’re not sure you even want to hear about it but in this moment you’d do anything to just have him finally fuck the shit out of you.

He avoids your gaze as he keeps it glued to his dick sliding up and down your slit. “I have.”

Oh.

“But it was protected, always,” he adds with a quickness, tone calculated and quiet.

Oh.

Okay.

That’s good but it doesn’t make you feel any better.

You have to swallow your emotions at this moment because your pussy is basically screaming at you to just swallow your pride. “Okay, then just do it without.”

He peers up at you through his thick brows with a frown. “Are you sure?”

You mumble, “For fuck’s sake.” Your hand quickly reaches for his shaft but he slaps it away just as quickly.

“I know you’re horny as fuck but I need you to be 100%,” he pauses when he sees you glaring at his dick. “Look at me, dammit.”

Your eyes shift to his and you childishly groan. “Yes, Yoongi, I 100% consent to letting you fuck me raw. Now, will you please just–”

He doesn’t even let you finish talking as he slides his dick right into you, bottoming out completely. You yelp at the intrusion, your slick walls stretching around his shaft so well, like it always has.

“Holy shit,” he whispers with closed eyes, the disgusting squelching coming from your sexes is proof of your arousal and the moans falling from his lips as your pussy tightly hugs him sounds like a choir of angels sustaining a high C.

You try to keep quiet, you try not to squirm, you try not to say the craziest things right now. Like ‘I love you’, or ‘I’ve missed you so much’ because you’re just horny and dumb.

“Move,” you whimper, needing more than he’s giving you right now. He hears you loud and clear, sliding out of you and right back in. The disgusting squelching reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to care at the moment, not when Yoongi finds it hot and throws in occasional ‘fuck, listen to that’s and ‘you’re so fucking wet’s.

You cuss, eyes rolling to the back of your head when your sensitivity reaches its peak. A few more thrusts will already have you cumming, you’re sure of it.

He continues to thrust, slowly starting to pick up his pace and he finally cracks his eyelids open. His eyes find yours as he stares at you—scanning your pretty face that he loves to look at—especially when it’s twisted in pleasure like that.

Brows furrowed, lips swollen, pupils dilated, mouth agape, a thin layer of sweat draped over your forehead and building up in your hairline.

Somewhere along the line, the eye contact becomes too intense for you. Your hand snakes around the back of his head, closing the distances between you two by pulling him closer to you, licking and sucking on the honey tinted skin of his neck.

After a while of sucking and nipping at his neck and his thrusts never coming to a halt, your orgasm starts approaching you rapidly again. “I’m gonna cum,” you cry, tears pricking in your eyes from the pure pleasure that’s setting all your insides ablaze.

“Already?” he murmurs as he leans down, kissing away the tears that have subtly started rolling down your temples. “But I have yet to ruin you.”

Fuck.

“Whatever, though. I guess you’re just going to lose count of the amount of orgasms I’ll fuck you through.” He states it so nonchalantly because he knows only he could ever make you feel like this, make you desperate like this, make you a needy mess like this.

His hips continue to harshly snap into yours, the indescribable sensation of being fucked at this angle and pace has your thighs clenching. Unsurprisingly not long after, your orgasm hits you full force once again.

A sob rips through your throat, your trembling hands grab at his shoulders, nails painfully digging into his skin as he fucks you through your high. His low chuckle rings in your ear, breath hitting your throat as he lowers his face into the crook of your neck.

“Cumming all over my dick and sucking marks on my neck. Are you trying to claim me again?” he whispers, knowing how possessiveness was big a turn on for the both of you back in your relationship.

You simply cry under him, the orgasm lasting longer than any you’ve ever had before. His dick kisses your cervix repeatedly, your breasts bounce continuously from the momentum of his thrusts and the sound of his skin slapping yours only increases in volume the longer he fucks you.

“I asked you something,” he says, lifting his head off your shoulder to stare down at you. “Where’d that bratty mouth that I love so much go?”

You simply grunt in response, teary eyes glaring at him as you slowly come down from your high. The corners of his lips curl up in a twisted smirk at the sight in front of him, you know he enjoys seeing you in this state and him being the sole cause of it pleases him greatly.

The overstimulation is starting to catch up to you. Your hand basically moves on its own, pressing flat into his lower abdomen in order to get him to slow down.

However, it means nothing to him. He simply continues to thrust into you like he’s got something to prove. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you want to claim me again?” he repeats.

You mewl, sinking your cranium further into your soft pillows, exposing more of your throat and neck to him as tears continue to pour out of your eyes.

“Fuck you,” you whimper, digging your nails into the skin around his belly button but it doesn’t elicit a single reaction from him.

He simply chuckles at your snarky comment as he lowers his lips onto your throat, sucking and nipping at it. You know he expected you to say that. No one else knows you like the back of their hand like he does.

“There’s my girl,” he mumbles against your skin. His words paired with the simple act of kissing your neck has all your insides clenching and twisting with something you can’t quite describe.

Butterflies?

Something you’re not going to admit out loud.

“I don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, though.” With one more thrust, he pulls out of you and harshly flips you onto your stomach. You don’t even have the time to react when he gently grabs your hips yet roughly hoists your ass up off the mattress.

A sharp sting spreads through your asscheek and that’s when you realize his rough hand came down on your bum, spanking you hard.

“Ow!” you screech in pain yet pleasure, every vein in your body pumping blood faster and faster as you anticipate exactly why, of all people, you called Yoongi over.

He doesn’t even give you the time to come down from that spanking before he gives you another one. And another one. And another one.

“You ask me to come over after not talking to me for months, then beg me to fuck you. I give you what you want and you still have the audacity to be so rude to me?” He clicks his tongue loudly and immediately after the scolding, spanks you yet again. “Biting the hand that feeds you. Tsk. I should cum in that filthy mouth of yours for talking to me like this.”

He shoves his dick back inside without a warning and continues to assault your poor asscheeks, rough palms continuously coming down to your ass in loud smacks.

You hoarsely cry out under him, most likely from the embarrassment because thanks to that damn pill you might cum from just being spanked at this point.

As if he heard your thoughts, the spanking comes to an end and his hands are now flat on your back, keeping you pressed into the mattress with his weight while he starts fucking into you again. “You like getting fucked from the back, right?”

Your ass bounces back against his hips with each thrust, adding more and more sensations to your body. You’re not going to last for very much longer.

He mumbles, “No, that’s not it.” He leans forwards, pressing his chest into your back, lips grazing the shell of your ear and he places his hands against the mattress on each side of your waist, supporting his own weight. “You just love being fucked like a slut.”

Fuck.

“Isn’t that right? You don’t care in what position you get fucked in, as long as you’re getting fucked, hm? Like the horny slut you are.” He remembers exactly what you like and it’s embarrassing. “My slut, though. No one else’s.”

And you admit that yes, you wouldn't just want any stranger to talk to you like this.

It only works with Yoongi because he knows you. Because he understands you. Because he loves you.

Or he did once, at least.

But him showing up at your front door, no questions asked, 10 minutes after you asked him to, might be proof of something you both are trying to deny. Not like it matters.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you moan. You’ve already lost count but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s fucking you so good.

“Cumming so quickly from just being talked to like this. I bet you’ve missed my filthy mouth just as much as I missed yours,” he whispers into your ear, pressing soft kisses to your skin in a way only a lover should. “I fucking love it.”

The soft kissing and the low volume of his voice are a stark contrast to the rough pounding of his hips and the degrading words leaving his lips.

And you can’t help but love it.

“Tell me I’m right,” he demands as he picks up the pace, snaking one hand around to wrap around your throat and pull you up until the back of your head collides with his shoulder. “Tell me it’s true.”

Now with your orgasm approaching, he knows you’d do anything to get there.

He knows you too well.

“Fuck, I love it!” you cry as your nth orgasm washes over you, your body violently jerking under him from the overstimulation you’re experiencing.

“I know you do,” he chuckles as he fucks you through your orgasm. “That’s my girl. My fuckin’ girl.”

Fuck.

He has no idea what those words do to you.

Well, it’s Yoongi. He definitely knows what it’s doing to you.

Because you are not his girl. Not anymore.

But you don’t have the energy to correct him nor do you want to. Because at this moment, it feels like the two of you never separated. Like you never spent a day apart. All of the nostalgia, love and hate comes rushing back to you. Surely it’s that stupid pink pill’s fault.

He pulls out in a swift motion and turns you onto your side before he lies down behind you on his side as well, chest pressed into your back as he pulls you closer.

Fuck, how many positions is he going to fuck you in? Is he making up for all the time you spent apart?

Now that you’re in spooning position, he gently places his hand under your thigh and lifts it up to spread your legs. His hand leaves your thigh as he uses the same hand to guide his dick to your pussy again.

Your thigh almost wants to give out and drop, your chest still dramatically rising and falling as you chase your breath.

Another cocky chuckle rumbles in his chest at how you struggle to even move now, his hot breath draping over your neck and his hand returning to the same spot on your inner thigh as he lifts your leg again and pushes into you.

Your head falls back, falling deeper into his embrace and he welcomes that by pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. “I don’t know how I survived all those months without y–” he pauses, “your pussy.”

Hmph. He’s the pussy if he doesn’t want to admit he misses you.

But then again, he was never that type. Yoongi was never the type to show his love through words but rather through actions and services, he had difficulties expressing his affection with words.

Like when it took him a year to say ‘I love you’ yet everyday after he came home from an exhausting day at work, he’d pull your feet into his lap and massage them in hopes of offering you some kind of relief.

Or when the topic of wedding vows came up and he said he finds them useless yet he’d buy you a fresh set of bouquets every week until down to the very week you broke up.

Or when he’d place a glass of water on your nightstand everyday when he left for work, whether he fucked the shit out of you the night before or not.

Yoongi always just showed you.

And now that he’s balls deep in your pussy, now that the effects of that pill are clouding your mind, now that his proximity is distorting your mind and setting all your nerve-endings alight again, you have to consciously stop yourself from asking him to come back home—back to you.

Your mind is so distorted that you don’t even recall the bad moments or the reason for your break up right now. You just miss him.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers in your ear, thrusting his hips into you at a considerably slower pace but by no means lacking in strength and passion.

“Like I’m fucking floating on a cloud,” you mumble back, body almost falling limp at his proximity and his dick rubbing your walls so deliciously.

He simply chuckles, “That’s what I like to hear.”

He continues to fuck into you, occasionally groaning and fondling your breast. “Fuck,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck.

“Yoongi, I–”

“I know.”

You don’t even know.

You don’t even know what you were going to say.

But his confident ‘I know’ proves to you that he knows.

Thanks to his slow pace, it takes your orgasm a little longer to approach and thank fuck for that.

“I’m gonna cum soon,” he tells you, rubbing your tummy from the back. “Where do you want it?”

“I don’t care where you cum as long as you kiss me during it.”

Damn. Why the fuck would you say that?

Great. He just abruptly stopped thrusting. You’re such a fucking idiot.

You would have never been able to admit this if you didn’t take that stupid pill or even if you weren’t facing him with your back.

He swiftly pulls out and wraps his fingers around your bicep to turn you around, making you face him now. Still in spooning position but this time facing each other, he pulls you close, lifting your leg onto his hip as he guides his dick back into you and propping your head up on his bicep.

His hand finds its way back to your asscheek and squeezes the soft skin in his rough hand as he pulls you even closer, pressing your chest right into his.

“Cum with me, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He’s so mean for doing this. So mean for the things he says, so mean for fucking you exactly as you like it, so mean for making you feel like you still belong to him. Like he belongs to you.

He thrusts his hips into you faster and sure enough, the effects of the pill get to work because your stomach starts twisting from the inside immediately after the change of pace and his request of cumming together.

Your fucked out eyes meet his determined ones, staring into those black bottomless pits of his as he chases his own release.

He simply stares back, eyes occasionally dropping to your lips. In this moment, his eyes are everywhere you look, his breath hits every inch of your skin, his hand on your hip holds you so tightly that you think be might crack your hipbone. He’s inside your head. He’s everywhere. He’s everything.

It seems like he wants to say something but his attention gets disrupted by the sound of something buzzing on the nightstand behind you.

It’s his phone.

He tears his eyes away from yours, reaching for it whilst still being inside of you and by the guilty look on his face, it doesn’t take a genius to decipher it must be someone whose arms and bed he found comfort in after separating from you.

When he thinks you must’ve realized, he tosses his phone off the bed and returns his attention to you.

But he doesn’t owe you anything. Not an explanation. Not an apology. Not even love.

It’s quiet for a few moments, just your occasional soft moaning and his heavy breathing as you close your eyes to avoid his gaze.

Until you crack your eyelids open again and find out he’s been staring at you the entire time. Your walls tightly clench around him again, indicating your orgasm is close. “Just call me your girl again,” you whisper, allowing the vulnerability to escape your system once again.

Dumb bitch.

“You are. You are my girl,” is all he says before pressing his lips against yours as promised, grabbing a handful of your asscheek as he snaps his hips into yours and forces his tongue into your mouth.

You let his tongue force itself past your swollen lips, crying into his mouth as another orgasm sends electricity down all your limbs, making your brain explode with ridiculous amounts of dopamine and launching you straight to your Utopia.

You murmur some shit into his mouth that even you don’t understand, voice coming and going whenever it pleases, more and more slick gushing out of your completely drenched pussy. Tears continue to escape and roll down your temples, your nose is runny, your voice is hoarse.

A soft moan resounds in Yoongi’s throat when his own orgasm hits him, thrusts getting inconsistent and rough as he starts painting your walls with his warm cum, groaning loudly into your mouth which you happily welcome.

This is otherworldly.

Nothing will ever feel like this moment right here and you’re not sure whether you’ve accepted that yet.

He fucks both of you through your orgasms, pumping his load into you like it belongs inside of you and fuck, have you missed the feeling.

With a few more sloppy thrusts, creating a mess everywhere, his thrusting comes to a halt yet he never stops kissing you.

He curls his arm so your head shifts on his bicep even closer towards his face, keeping his dick buried in you, eliciting a simple sigh in content from the ex-girlfriend in his arms.

After an extra few minutes of nonstop making out with a man that was once yours, you’re the one that pulls away. Your stomach clenches with something you can’t describe when you watch him still chase your lips until he realizes you’ve pulled away, making him slowly open his eyes.

Is it guilt? Is it desire? Is it regret?

Fuck. Fuck. This whole idea just wasn’t smart.

You did your best to rid yourself of the stain he planted on you, closing the mark where he sunk his fangs so deeply into your skin, into your soul. You’re letting him reopen it and you’re so damn fucking stupid for it.

And you don’t understand why he’s the only one you want. No one else.

He stares at you for a moment before pressing his forehead against yours, still trying to catch his breath.

You stay unmoved for a few more moments before he delicately pecks your lips again and gently pulls his softening dick out of you, your nose scrunching when his load starts to leak out of you and onto your sheets.

He doesn’t say much else as he gets up from your bed, eyes searching the floor for something before he hunches over and slides his boxers back up his legs.

He leaves your bedroom without another word, making you simply frown at the ceiling but he quickly reappears with a glass of water and a damp towel.

He hasn’t changed a bit.

He takes care of you like nothing’s changed, cleaning your body up, changing the sheets while you don’t move a muscle, tucking you under the fresh covers and making sure you drink your water before opening the windows in an attempt to get some fresh air after you’ve fogged up the windows in the room.

He sits at the edge of your bed, gently tracing your hairline with the tip of his finger. “How are you feeling?”

If only he knew.

Your mouth slightly curls at the corners, a lazy smile plastered on your lips. “I feel amazing.”

Another sultry chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head in agreement.

This is nice.

But your mind changes when you silently watch him rising to his feet and slowly reaching for his clothes.

Ugh.

You’ve been vulnerable enough.

You asked him to come do one thing and he did it. You can’t ask much more of him.

But your heart works faster than your brain.

“Can you stay the night?” you quietly ask, fidgeting with your fingers under the sheets, relieved that he can’t see.

He glances at you over his shoulder, a frown on his brows. It seems like he thinks about it for a moment before parting pretty his lips to say, “What?”

Fuck.

Your voice goes even quieter, thinking of a way to reformulate the question. “Do you want to stay the night?”

He idly blinks at you, eyes staring straight into your soul as if you just asked him the most absurd question that you could’ve asked him. “Do you want me to?”

The neutral tone of his voice simply makes you shrug your shoulders in response, avoiding his intense gaze that always makes you feel like no one else exists in his mind but you.

Stupid.

“Y/N,” says Yoongi, quietly. Your eyes twinkle up at him, the clear look of a dilemma plastered on your face. He closes the distance between you two, hovering over your body before repeating his question with a bit more bluntness. “Do you want me to?”

Your swollen bottom lip is trapped between your teeth, veins pumping with anxiety and anticipation.

You sniffle a bit in hopes that it makes the tension and silence less awkward. “Yeah.”

Your eyes trail his features, remembering how gorgeous he actually is. How could you ever forget? His thick brows, his sharp eyes, his plump lips, his soft nose, his beautiful hair.

The next few words that leave his mouth rip you right out of your thoughts.

“Then I’ll stay,” he pauses, “for however long you want me to.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ �� ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

⋆ MASTERLIST & CONCEPT VIDEO ⋆

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

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[chryblossomjjk]

practice (pt. 3) | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst

⇢ WC: 12.8k sorry

⇢ WARNINGS: emotional at points, fighting rip, oc lowkey in her villain era, they both say mean things to eachother (nothing tew intense), jk is not a himbo >:(, characters are forced to face their insecurites </3, misunderstandings, finger sucking, oral sex (f and m recieving), 69 action if u squint, brief ass eating, a little manhandling, titty sucking (obvi), flavored lube, butt plug moment, miss hitachi is finally here !!!, unprotected sex, corruption kink, squirting, overstimulation, slight dom jk, a bit of manhandling, praise, creampie, maybe unrequited love, maybe not (lol jk u'll find out), where's waldo but instead of waldo its bam

⇢ SUMMARY: sparks fly as you try to forget about jungkook.

⇢ NOTES: it’s finally here! if you haven't read pt 2 in a while, i'd suggest rereading it before reading this part! maybe even pt 1 bc callbacks. you might miss a few things if you don't. kinda nervy to post this bc everyone was so conflicted. hopefully the ending is satisfying for all. also sorry if the smut is meh, this piece was more plot driven than other things i’ve written. thank you so much for the love and support on this series. seriously cannot thank you guys enough. very bittersweet to be saying goodbye to it but i hope you stick around. love you and as always feedback is v appreciated !! big ty to @floweryjeons for betaing !!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

dumbo do u want lunch? i can drop it off in about 30

You were midway through a three hour lab and you really needed to focus. Unfortunately, the professor’s droning was easily overtaken by incessant vibrating. You peek at your phone with a scoff before shoving it back into your pocket. 

Jungkook doesn’t get the hint.

dumbo i’ll just get the usu

dumbo lol i forget… ur lab is in room 305 in the civic engagement building right?

Room 222 in the science building. You don’t correct him, though. 

It was difficult to ignore the sharp, self-inflicted stabs that pierced through your back whenever he texted you. But you had to rip the bandaid off before it had time to adhere to you entirely. You hadn’t talked to him in days. Not since he lied to you.

Whenever you had the urge to respond, you went through memories. Pictures of him looking unamused, pink pout scrunched up as you smushed his cheeks together. Videos of his nostrils fluttering as blaring snores filled your dorm room; your soft giggles in the background.

Little snapshots of the present that were now the past. 

You were slowly weaning yourself off of Jeon Jungkook.

Your phone goes off again during your break. 

dumbo hey i’ve been waiting for like 20 min

dumbo gonna head out since ur probably caught up. free until about 4 tho so text me if u want anything i’ll come back

dumbo or we can just get something after the showcase?

dumbo are you running late?

dumbo you know it starts at 7p right?

dumbo ik you hate being late so i’m starting to get nervous…

dumbo just let me know that you’re safe please

Those texts were sent nearly three hours ago. You’ve tried to distract yourself with homework, Sailor Moon, and the watermelon mask you were currently washing off your face. Nothing helped. The guilt lingering in your chest was heavy and you wish it would trickle down the drain like the abandoned products. 

You sigh, shaking your hands vigorously to flick off the excess water. A damp knuckle presses your phone screen. It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday. Back at square one. 

The scent of your green tea moisturizer fills your nostrils as you glide the creamy substance over your skin. Fingertips dancing gently across the surface of your plump cheeks. The touch is soft and delicate, just like his was-

Intrusive thoughts make you want to remove your frontal lobe.

You try to remind yourself that although vibrant and dashing, Jungkook was anything but your knight in shining armor. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Just like the rest of the men who tried to conquer the tall brick walls of your heart, mind, and body. 

You look at yourself in the mirror. Despite the brightening mask, your dewy skin was dull. The inner corners of your big eyes were overtaken by winding red branches. The thick black bags under them appear even heftier than your beloved Playboy duffel. Your plump lips are coated in your Laniege lip mask. It’s candy-flavored, but it doesn’t taste as sweet anymore. You look lifeless. 

Did cutting Jungkook off really affect you that badly?

Or perhaps you always looked like this, and the loss of him made you realize how truly gloomy and lackluster things were before.

For the past two months, your reflections were filled with pearly white teeth and crinkled eyes. Being with Jungkook was careless and irresponsible in all the right ways. Whenever you were with him, the negative thoughts that often plagued your mind were forgotten, and you were just… free. 

But look where that got you.

The sound of your phone pinging brings you back to reality. 

dumbo tae said that you’re home with mina…

Taehyung. What a little snitch. You’ll make sure that Mina punishes him adequately. 

dumbo not sure what your deal is but i’m fucking heated

“What do you know, Taehyung?” You sneer his name like a curse; the nasty ‘T’ word.

“I know everything,” he responds nonchalantly, flipping through his absolute mammoth of a textbook. He nods his head toward the guilty party beside him. “Your bestie told me.” 

“Liar!” Mina gasps, smacking his sweater-clad bicep. Her voice lowers immediately when Taehyung shushes her. You were in the library after all. She looks at you exasperatedly. “I didn’t tell him like- ‘everything’ everything.”

“I don’t need to know everything.” He closes the hardcover book gingerly, peering at you over the thick black rim of his glasses. You’re convinced they’re a sham, and he only wears them to look professional and intellectual. “My keen deductive reasoning has led me to the conclusion that this situation is—in fact—fucking ridiculous.”

You gawk at bluntness. “Aren’t you literally studying to be a therapist?” 

“Psychiatrist,” he corrects with a cheesy grin. “I’m allowed to tell you when you’re being childish.”

“Tae, be nice.” Mina warns with a scowl, holding her index finger out right in front of his nose. “I know Jungkook is your friend, but he’s grimy.”

“I swear, I’m not trying to be a dick.”  Taehyung laughs, raising his hands up in surrender. “I’m just giving perspective. I care about you, __.”

“Sure you do.” You answer curtly, rolling your eyes. 

“And-,” Taehyung claps his large palms together, fingertips pointed towards you in an accusatory fashion. “-I know Jungkook better than both of you.” He gestures between you and Mina. “He’s not a bad dude.” 

“He-,”

“He ditched her to go to a party!” Mina beats you to the punch, voice whiny and frustrated. “And lied about it! He’s trash!”

“Thank you, Mina,” you whisper-shout, placing a finger over your lips to remind her, once again, that you were still in the library. As much as you love her, you didn’t necessarily want all of campus knowing your dirty laundry. Your eyes scan the dimly lit room for eavesdroppers. Luckily, it was fairly empty at this time of day. 

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” 

“It’s not that simple, Tae,” you sigh, turning your attention back to the empty word document on your laptop screen. In the twenty minutes you’ve been sitting here, you have only managed to type the essay’s title and your name. Spelled wrong. Sneakily, you correct the typo before anyone notices. 

“Maybe…” Mina starts, lips scrunching to the side in contemplation. She looks at her boyfriend innocently before tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Playing all the right cards. “Maybe… you could talk to him for her? Or do a little snoopy snoop to see what he’s up to?”

“There’s no way in hell I’m playing double agent for you guys.”  

“Come on, Tae!” Mina pouts. “It could be fun!”

“No,” Taehyung laughs, shaking his head. “I refuse to get in the mid-,”

“Hey!” 

Taehyung’s words are cut off by an uncomfortably familiar voice. Its usual soft, playful tone was laced with sternness. The sound makes your spine straighten. 

Jungkook. 

You were so distracted that you hadn’t heard his clunky black boots stomping towards you. The firm grip of tattooed fingers on your shoulder makes you look up. Even under the rim of his bucket hat, you can see the angry stars dancing in his black eyes. They’re hot and scalding with irritation. “Can we talk?”

“About?” You peep in feigned naivety. 

“Oh, please,” he scoffs loudly, laughing in disbelief. The seat beside you is yanked out with a startling screech. Jungkook plops down on it and turns to face you, knees digging into your outer thigh. Always so incredibly close. “Don’t give me that shit-,”

“Jungkook.” Taehyung calls, trying to stifle the bubbling lava in Jungkook’s stomach before he erupts. It was rare to see his happy-go-lucky friend so agitated. “Chill.”

His eyes soften at the warning. It’s like Jungkook hadn’t even registered how angry he had actually become. The entirety of his college experience has been spent distancing anger—and any other negative emotion—so far from his being that he couldn’t even detect the cues anymore. He inhales deeply through his nose, white t-shirt pulling tight at his chest, before exhaling. 

“You good?” Taehyung asks. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Jungkook nods, bringing a hand up to massage slow circles into his temple. Despite how upset you are with him, the self-soothing mechanism makes your heart ache. “I promise, I’m calm. I just want to talk.”

His pupils dart between the two unmoving figures across from you.

“Alone, please.”

Jungkook and Taehyung lock eyes for a moment, communicating silently through some bro-telepathy that has you and Mina exchanging confused glances. Suddenly, the curly-haired boy nods, collecting his textbook and intertwining his fingers with Mina’s. “Let’s go, babe.”

“Tae, wait!” Mina protests, trying to wriggle out of Taehyung’s grasp. She looks at you apologetically as her boyfriend urges her towards the exit, unable to break free. “Call me after, okay?” She shoots Jungkook a threatening glare before turning away. 

And just like that, you were left alone with the man you’d been avidly avoiding for the past week and a half. 

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook questions, silver piercing glimmering in the light as he gnaws on his bottom lip. The pink skin under his bunny teeth was already turning red. “Like… did I do something wrong?”

You look everywhere but him, mindlessly scrolling up and down the empty page on your laptop screen. It was a poor attempt to act unbothered, despite the heavy thumping in your chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The showcase?”

“What about it?” 

Jungkook always took your attitude in stride, leveling your petty comments with kisses and playful eyerolls. This eye roll, however, paired with a painfully clenched jaw, is anything but playful. “Quit playing games, __. I’ve had enough,” he grits. 

He never calls you by your name. 

“Playing games,” you echo with a sarcastic laugh. In the pit of your stomach, you can feel the sadness morphing into a fit of heady anger. The words taste vile and sour on your tongue before they’re spewed at him. “That’s rich coming from you.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the puzzled expression on his face. Eyebrow piercing twitching in confusion as the cogs in his brain spin, trying to make sense of your words. “I don’t understand…” 

How does he not understand?

“Why didn’t you come to the showcase?”

You huff out a sigh, gaze fluttering to the ceiling. 

“Answer me,” he urges, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, clearly trying to shift your attention back onto him. As if that wasn’t what landed you in this position in the first place.

“Jungkook-,” 

Your voice gets caught in your throat when you feel his sharp exhales fan across your cheek. Fast and restless. It makes you miss the deep, peaceful ones he would make when buried under your heavy duvet; hair disheveled from tossing and turning and the brush of your fingers as you lulled him to sleep. His breath smells like toothpaste and vanilla gum. You glance at your taskbar. It’s 12:23 p.m. and he hasn’t eaten yet.

“I didn’t go because this is unproductive,” you sigh, closing your laptop and finally gaining the courage to face the man beside you. “You being in my life is unproductive.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Unproductive.” When your eyes meet his big dark ones, you can’t stand them. You can’t stand him for what he’s done, for how he’s turned something so special to you, so ugly. It coaxes that equally ugly, scaly, green defensiveness out of you. You want to retreat, and rebuild the walls higher, so that your emotional security would never be destroyed again. Anyone who threatened it would be burned, including Jungkook, sitting before you with doe eyes as you prepared to breathe fire in his direction. “I know it’s a difficult word, but you’re a big boy. Sound it out.” 

The look on his face makes you regret the low blow instantly. 

“Jesus,” he huffs, taking his hat off and scrubbing his hands over his face like he’s trying to wake up from a nightmare. “Why are you being-”

You cringe, expecting a nasty insult.

“-so mean?”

Oh. 

Ow. 

For some reason, that hurt more than any curse word would. 

“I’m not mean.” 

“I know you’re not,” he lifts his head, searching your face for any remnant of the girl he’s spent the last two months with. “So why are you acting like this?”

Your silence eggs him further. 

“You know what, I’m so fucking sick of you treating me like I’m stupid,” his eyes squeeze closed when he swears, nails digging into his tattooed knuckles as he crosses his big hands. The confession rips through him and hits you like a physical blow. You suddenly remember all of the times you’ve teased Jungkook about his major or insulted his intelligence. 

‘What tests? You’re a photography major.’

‘You’re an idiot, Jungkook.’

‘Your major is showing.’

You didn’t mean any of it. Not one bit. They were just shitty efforts to conceal your feelings for him. You never realized that Jungkook was taking your comments to heart. But it was too little too late. You can’t turn back time and the floodgates have already opened. 

“Just because I’m not some big-shot science major, doesn’t mean that I’m fucking brainless. And it certainly doesn’t mean that you’re better than me.” With his hat sitting on the glossy wooden table, you can fully see the angry arch in his brows. The scrunch in his nose intensifies as he seethes. “What? You think you’re too good to go to the showcase? If you didn’t want to come you should’ve grown a pair and said something.”

“It’s not that,” you protest, chin quivering with ugly dents as you try to hold back tears. “I just… figured you’d bring someone else.”

Jungkook pauses for a moment, cogs coming to a halt when he finally comprehends your vague statements. “Stop acting like you can read my mind- or that you know me better than I know myself.” He snatches his hat and drops it back on his head, fingers gripping the rim to adjust the position. “Because you clearly don’t know shit about me.”

You watch silently as he scoots his chair back, standing up with urgency. How did things come to this? Two months ago you were casual friends, now you’re fighting in the middle of the school library. You would’ve never let him into your dorm room that night if you knew it would hurt this bad. 

“And I actually thought-,” Jungkook says, turning to face you. His lips open and then close promptly before he waves a hand at you. “Fuck it, nevermind. I’m done.” 

You look extremely suspect.

Speeding through campus with your hood up, sweater strings almost dangling to the floor with how tight you’ve pulled them. You can barely see where you’re going. The small fluffy peephole you’ve provided yourself is no good for navigating the winding halls of the dreaded liberal arts building. 

You’ve been sleeping in later and later; a recent habit. Most days you felt drained, barely able to muster the energy to crawl out of bed. That’s exactly what happened this morning, hence why you’re marching down this evil, forbidden shortcut, in hopes of making it to class on time. 

It’s a Tuesday. Jungkook doesn’t have classes on Tuesdays. But you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him and the places he frequents. You haven’t heard from him since the.. incident. Not a single text or call. It hurt like hell, but what did you expect? You weren’t exactly nice to him the last time you two spoke. And it wasn’t like he cared to begin with. He was probably already buried in someone else; moaning blissfully. Meanwhile, you can’t even leave your damn room without thinking about him. 

Shut up, evil brain. Back to the matter at hand—getting to class. 

You decide that music is the best method of distraction. An exaggerated sigh slips out as you yank your phone out of your pocket. You’re just about to crank your airpods up when a couple of distant voices catch your attention. 

“These are from this weekend's showcase, we’re taking them down next week…” A muffled response that you can’t comprehend. “Yep, all are my students.”

You stop dead in your tracks.

The professor’s prideful tone rings in your ears, drowning out whatever breakup playlist you were previously listening to. The mention of a showcase, the showcase, makes your heart drop with a painful thud. 

Fuck.

Your skull feels exponentially heavier than normal when you lift it, finally breaking eye contact with the dingy concrete floor underneath you. There are pictures hung all along the white walls of the campus center. No doubt leftover from an event you deliberately skipped. 

You roll your head back, attempting to loosen the uncomfortable tension in your muscles. Anxiously gnawing on your bottom lip, you take in your surroundings. Jittery hands pluck out your headphones and plop them back into your Luna-shaped airpod case. Underneath all the sadness and guilt, your body was teaming with curiosity. 

You never found out what Jungkook’s topic of choice was. And now that you think about it, you haven’t seen any of his photography. Ever. 

A quick look wouldn’t hurt, right?

Besides, maybe this was what you needed to move on. A final goodbye to the man who has held your mind captive for far too long. 

With a deep exhale and a heavy heart, you take the plunge and step forward. You lull along the walls, staring wide-eyed at each photo. Most of them take on a dark modern vibe, displaying people and objects in dreary settings. A sea of gray and black. Devoid of color. You glance at the labels above. The topics chosen were gloomy, too. 

Hm. Life imitates art. 

You wonder if those students have had their hearts broken as well. 

A vibrant splash of color makes you halt. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the canvas. There’s a blood-red rose. The lens is so zoomed in that the flower eats up the entire portrait. You place a manicured digit against it, tracing your fingertip along the jagged veins in the delicate petals. The imagery is surreal, almost comparable to a heart. Not a cutesy cartoon heart—the literal human organ. You think it’s stunning, standing out amongst the rest like a beautiful sore thumb. 

The printed black font along the border makes your breath hitch.

Love - Jeon Jungkook.

The subject confuses you, but the photography makes sense. Of course, this was Jungkook’s work. It’s obnoxious, lively, and so incredibly different from the rest. Stunning and enchanting, nonetheless. The next photo in his set is of two shadows, a bit distorted as they're splayed against the concrete. A couple holding hands. You recognize the silhouettes immediately; Mina and Taehyung. You can’t fight the smile spreading across your face. 

Next in the portfolio is a room, white walls decorated with faux ivy vines. The little, golden lights laced throughout them gives the picture a warm saturated glow. At the center of the photo is a woman laying underneath a cream duvet. Her bare back is facing the camera, messy hair sprawled on the pillow. It’s a bit risqué, but you get how it connects to his chosen subject. It’s the aftermath of the physical act of love.

To any other student or teacher strolling by, the woman in the picture was a stranger. But to you, she’s the farthest thing from a stranger.

She’s you.

Jungkook must have taken it while you were sleeping.

A wave of the most perplexing, juxtaposing emotions washes over you. Your palms turn clammy as you try to process what you’re witnessing. Why would he do this? Include a picture of you in a project, literally titled ‘love’, only to fucking lie to you? To take advantage of your affection and string you along while he entertained another person?

You find the answers to your aimless questions in the next photo.

Fireworks. 

The only time you remember seeing or hearing fireworks was… 

The night of the party. 

“Jungkook,” you sigh, pressing your damp forehead against the grainy wood of his door. You never thought you’d be in this position. Chasing after a man. It’s humiliating and out of character, but you need to make things right. “I know you’re in there…”

You’ve been standing outside of his dorm room for the past ten minutes. Knocking, pleading, begging. All to no avail. The sound of rustling blankets and footsteps on the other side makes you lift your head, eyes widening with hope. The optimism is lost once the soft noises stop completely. They only served to confirm your suspicions. Jungkook is home and he’s purposely ignoring you. 

Oh, the irony.

Earlier in the week, the roles were reversed. Jungkook was the one pining for your attention. Now, you know exactly how he must have felt that day in the library. And you don’t like it one bit. 

“Look,” you huff, shaking a few clumpy strands out of your face. “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now… but I’m really sorry.”

The only response you receive is the whoosh of running water. 

Your shoulders slump in defeat. Obviously, he’s not going to answer the door. Why would he? He had every right to be mad. You hadn’t hesitated to dismiss him, and his passions, when you were the one upset.

You come to the grim realization that maybe things are better this way.

Jungkook is completely, entirely, wholeheartedly different from you, and you from him. So much so that you were incompatible. You’ve barely dipped your toes into anything serious, yet the two of you were already fighting and miscommunicating. It would never work, whatever it is. It couldn’t.

Deep down in your heart, you know none of that is true.

As much as you try to rationalize the distance, you can’t convince yourself that your life is better like this—because whenever you picture a future with Jungkook or reflect on the past, you see and feel nothing but sunshine. The walls begin to crumble and you feel free. Maybe, the characteristics of Jungkook you deemed annoying and different, were what made being with him so euphoric.

But none of that matters anymore. Whatever chance you had at that, at something more with him, you've completely destroyed. With a grimace and an awful pit in your stomach, you decide the best thing you can do for him is leave him alone. You adjust the takeout bags in your hand and begin to head out. 

Just as you reach the end of the dingy hallway, you hear a click and a loud creak. You spin so fast you almost get whiplash. 

Jungkook is standing in his doorway, looking at you blankly with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He’s shirtless, full muscles rippling under his milky skin. Normally you would ogle at the sight of his toned chest and defined abs, but your focus is elsewhere. Like on the red flannel sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips, sharp v-line peeking over the hem. You recognize them from the night you helped him study for an upcoming quiz. 

‘This is a conspiracy,’ he grumbled, convinced the test was an elaborate scheme by the school committee to punish him for his frequent drunken mishaps and countless guideline violations. You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder as you helped him memorize terms and ideas. You guys didn’t leave the library until 2 a.m.

He looks warm and cozy. Dark tresses swooping in messy waves across his forehead as he peers at you with doe eyes. After not seeing him or checking in on him for a while, you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey,” he mumbles softly, voice coming out muffled over the bristles of his toothbrush. He pulls it out, letting out a tiny ‘oops’ as a glob of toothpaste hits the floor. He wipes it away with his foot before continuing. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” Everything you wanted to say had trickled out of your mind like the little droplets of water running down your skin. 

He meets your silence with an unamused squint and starts to close the door. 

“Jungkook, wait!” You shout, taking a few frantic steps closer. “I saw the showcase!”

He pauses. “You did?” His thick brows slant in confusion. “How?”

“It’s still up in the liberal arts building.”

He nods his head slowly as an awkward quietness falls over the corridor. You can tell he’s still upset with you and the tension makes you queasy. 

“I have pancakes,” you offer nervously, lifting up the crinkled plastic bags in your hand. It’s so damn cheesy. But you're trying your best. You prayed that he understood the reference, and remembered how he showed up to your dorm in the same exact way. The fateful night that started it all. 

“Interesting.” His nose twitches as he tongues the little hoop on his bottom lip. Obviously fighting a smile. Thank God. “What kind?”

“Chocolate chip… your favorite.” 

He hums a contemplative noise, scanning you up and down. Your hair is dripping. The pink velvet hoodie you’re wearing is clinging to your figure in ways he knows it isn’t supposed to. “Why are you wet?”

“It’s raining,” you point out. 

Jungkook glances over his shoulder, glancing into his room and out the window at the cloudy, gray sky. There’s a change in his expression when he faces you again. “You walked here in the rain?”

You nod meekly. 

The harsh glint in his eyes softens. He sighs deeply, head dropping in defeat as he holds out a colorful arm, inked digits gesturing for you to come closer. “C’mere, Bambi. I’ll get you some clothes.”

Bambi. 

You’ve never been so elated to hear that nickname. 

“Thank you,” you peep, scurrying towards his open door before he changes his mind and sends you packing. Goosebumps form on your skin when your bicep brushes against his bare chest as you hastily enter the room. The light touch leaves your cheeks hot.

“Hold on,” he says, disappearing into his tiny bathroom. You set the pancakes on top of his nightstand, awkwardly standing in the middle of his dorm. This isn’t exactly how you envisioned your first time at Jungkook’s place would go.

While idly taking in your surroundings, you spot a little whiteboard above his bed. On it, scribbled in blue marker, is the biggest boobs you’ve ever seen in your life. There’s a heart eyes emoji tacked on in the corner. A good artistic detail, you think. You should be rolling your eyes at his boyishness. That’s what you always do. But an endeared laugh comes out instead. 

Why was a poorly drawn pair of tits making you soft?

Right underneath the whiteboard is a collage of taped pictures. You bend at the waist for a better look. There’s a polaroid of him and Taehyung, arms intertwining at the elbows, both downing a dark, probably alcoholic, beverage. How cute of them. The next photo is of Jungkook on a rollercoaster, tongue out and eyes crinkled as he middle fingers the camera. So wild and free. Your heart swells in familiarity. 

But the more you stumble upon, the more unfamiliar Jungkook becomes. There’s a few blurry pictures of a big black dog he’s never spoken about before. The next one has you gushing. It’s a candid image of baby-faced Jungkook, holding up his high school diploma with a proud, big, bunny smile. There’s an older woman in the frame kissing his cheek. You tilt your head in confusion. You wonder if it’s his mother. You had just assumed he couldn’t stand his parents and didn’t keep in contact with them.

Maybe… you don’t have Jungkook figured out like you thought you did. There’s still so much you have to learn. You make a mental note of all the questions you want to ask him later. 

That is if there even is a later. 

The bathroom door opens and Jungkook walks out. “Here,” he says, handing you a pile of neatly folded clothes. There’s an oversized black hoodie on top. Your favorite sweater, the one you always steal from him. You watch sullenly as he sits down on the edge of his bed. 

“I’m sorry,” you reiterate, absolutely loathing how weak and frail you sound. Jungkook doesn’t respond. He just stares into your soul with those scrutinizing eyes. “Can you talk to me, please?”

“I wanted to talk at the library,” he groans, arms jolting forward in frustration, fingers painfully flexed and hooked like claws. His bare chest flushed an angry red. “I’ve been trying to talk to you. All fucking week!”

Startled, you jump at his voice, dropping the stack of clothes you were holding. Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“Ah, I-'' he interrupts himself with a shameful hiss. You pick up the fallen fabrics with shaky hands, placing them on his nightstand with the forgotten pancakes. Jungkook digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, too apologetic and embarrassed for losing his cool to look at you. “I’m sorry.”

To be fair, he hadn’t been that loud. It was more abrupt than anything else. But your Jungkook was as happy and carefree as the wind. This side of him was new, and you were still figuring out how to navigate the uncharted waters. “It’s okay.” You can’t blame him. Not after everything you’ve done. “You’re allowed to be mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” he sighs. The tattooed fingers splayed over his eyes slide in to clamp the bridge of his nose. The other hand pats the spot next to him on the black comforter. “Come here.” 

“But,” you look down at the damp clothes, “I’m wet.”

“It’s fine. Sit down.”

You listen, cautiously sinking down into the bed. Despite the copious amounts of nude escapades, you’ve never felt more vulnerable with him. Usually, when you’re in bed with Jungkook, he’s panting above you, sleeping below you, or lying beside you. Head snuggled into your neck like an annoying, albeit affectionate, cat. Now, you make sure to keep your distance, anxiously picking at your chipped nail polish. 

“What happened?” He questions breathlessly, relieved to finally verbalize the words that were weighing heavy on his chest. “Everything was going great and then you switched up on me. Like the showcase? Really, Bambi? I was the only person there without a guest.”

The disappointment in his voice cuts you deep, but the vision of him at the event he had been so excited for, completely alone, hurts even worse. You were his muse, and you rejected him. Looking at him was an awful decision, because you get lost in his eyes immediately. Those beautiful, captivating, endless eyes. Filled with pain and uncertainty. You realize the only way to make that awful look disappear, is to confess…

“I really like you, Jungkook… a lot. Like- more than just friends…”

Once again, you’re met with silence. Jungkook’s face is unreadable yet so familiar. You've seen that expression before. You can’t pinpoint when or where exactly, but it makes your heart pound so loudly that your ears ring.

“So,” you continue shakily, “the last time we hung out—when you canceled our plans—I got really upset.”

“I was finishing my project.” 

“But then I saw a picture of you at a party-,”

“Yeah,” he defends, looking at you exasperatedly, unable to follow your train of thought. “I wanted to take pictures of the fireworks.” 

“I know that now,” you admit, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, “but the picture was from Nayeon’s Instagram.” 

“Nayeon?” He frowns. “I haven’t talked to Nayeon in months.”

“But you guys were-” your eyes dart around in search of the right phrasing. You settle on ‘a thing’, putting little air quotes around the ambiguous title. 

“Why does that matter?” He asks incredulously. “Her and I ended things before we even started hooking up. I haven’t had sex with anybody else since we’ve been a thing.” The last part is teasing, he mimics your air quotes as his pierced pout curls into a smirk. Ah, Jungkook gets it now. Your unbecoming actions over the course of the week were a product of jealousy and possessiveness. Any lingering trace of anger is washed away with the revelation. “I told you that.”

“Yeah, but…” After mulling over your thoughts, you hesitate to speak. You hadn’t realized how ridiculous and childish you were being until now. Taehyung was right after all. “I don’t know, the way you said it seemed… fishy.”  

Jungkook deadpans you before shaking his head, chuckling under his breath. You watch it all unfold awkwardly. How embarrassing. 

“It’s not funny, Jungkook!”

“Ah!” He echos your shouts through a laugh, cupping your head with his large hands and jittering it gently. “Stop thinking! Your brain is evil!”

Hm. Valid point. 

“In my defense,” you retort, cuffing his wrists with your tiny hands. His skin is warm and soft. You’ve missed touching him so much. “You literally mentioned Nayeon while we were having sex.”

The playful stars in his eyes combust. “Huh?”

“Oral fixation.” 

His eyes widen in remembrance. “Oh shit,” he groans, slumping down, hands dropping into his lap. “Looking back, that was so fucked, but I- I just thought it was funny. I swear I didn’t mean anything, like- bad by it. I-.” Frustrated by his own stuttering and lack of judgment, Jungkook mushes his fingers into his sockets before laying down in defeat. “That was so fucking stupid of me. I’m stupid. I’m sorry, Bambi.”

Stupid. 

That word coaxes a visceral reaction out of you. 

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. His tattooed fingers part in the middle as he hesitantly peeks at you. You giggle for a moment, and so does he, but then you feel the gravity of the situation. Sniffling, you look down at the beautiful boy. How could you have ever been so nasty to him? You push his bangs back gently. They’ve gotten longer. Cupping his cheek, you slowly brush your thumb across his soft skin. You’re afraid that if you’re too rough, he’ll slip right through your fingers. “You’re not stupid, Jungkook... I’ve never met anyone who sees the world how you do. You’re so creative and clever in your own right… I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t, because I don’t think that at all.” Voice crack. “I never did.”  

“Hey,” Jungkook coos in concern. “It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not okay,” you argue, blinking furiously to fight back the waterworks. “And I’m really sorry about the showcase. I know how important it was to you.” 

“Shh,” he shushes, “please don’t cry.” He catches your hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing the sweetest, gentlest kiss to your fingertips. “You apologized, so we’re good, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” you sniffle. It feels like a ton of bricks have been lifted off of your shoulders. “For what it’s worth, your portfolio was gorgeous.”

“Nah,” he teases, wrapping an arm around your waist and encouraging you to lay down with him. “You’re only saying that because you were in it.” You smile softly, thankful for his light-hearted banter. You stay like that for a while. Face to face. Just looking at one another. You think you could stay like this forever, basking in his beauty. His warmth. Jungkook speaks first. “Why didn’t you just talk to me about the picture?” 

“I guess, I was just scared of losing you… but then I just started ignoring you, which doesn’t make sense… so probably should’ve just talked to you about it.” The stream of consciousness makes him laugh. “I really like you, Jungkook.”

“I don’t do relationships.” 

You feel your heart shatter into a million, irreparable pieces. 

How cruel. 

“Wait, those aren’t the right words,” Jungkook shakes his head. “What I meant to say is that I’ve never actually been in a relationship.” The stammered admission has you stunned. Campus fuckboy Jungkook has never been in a relationship? “And I have no fucking clue what I’m doing but… I really like you, too. I want you, I do… I don’t know how good of a boyfriend I’ll be but,” he looks at you for the first time throughout his nervous ramble. His eyes are just as terrified as yours. “I’m willing to try if you are.”

You blink at him. Did he just say… boyfriend? 

“__,” Jungkook calls, anxiously toying with his lip ring. “Do you want this?”

You’ve never wanted anything more. 

Without warning, you smash your lips into his. This kiss is sloppy and brash, but he’s yours. Jungkook is yours. “I think you chipped my tooth,” he winces, chuckling breathlessly. “Is that a yes?”

You nod vehemently. 

“Okay,” he smiles, tilting your chin, “now give me a real kiss. None of that amateur shit you just pulled.” 

You kiss him again, head full of clouds and tummy full of butterflies. Jungkook grabs under your thighs, maneuvering you on top of him, knees on either side of his cinched waist. Your lips are more controlled this time. There’s a little tongue action. Nothing too dirty, just soft brushes and prods like you’re two virgins testing the waters. Everything is slow and unhurried. You feel like you’re floating, levitating, fucking astral projecting.

“There we go,” Jungkook grins, the rounded tip of his nose tickling yours. It’s so sappy, and you can only imagine how dumb you two look, staring at each other with sparkly eyes and goofy smiles.

Jungkook is still Jungkook, though.

A sneaky hand and the grinding of a zipper interrupts the cute moment.

“You perv!” You shriek, giggling wildly as you swat his naughty fingers away. The damage is done, and the sleeve of your open sweater slips down your bare shoulder. “Is sex all you think about?”

“Mm,” he hums in confirmation, placing a peck on the newly exposed skin. “Sex with you,” he specifies before peeling the damp material from your arms and tossing it onto the floor. You cringe at the clanging of your expensive, deadstock, Juicy Couture hoodie. “Why are you so covered up?” Jungkook sits up to suck on your erect nipple, right through your translucent, white tank top. Whimpering, you grind against him. “You gotta take this off…” he sighs dreamily, yanking the pesky shirt over your head.

Wow. He’s extra needy today. Not that you’re complaining. 

“Jungkook,” you complain, arms crossed over your chest. “Stop staring!”

“Why are you being so shy?” He does this often. Gawks at your naked body until your skin burns and your cheeks sting. It's a strange feeling. So uncomfortable yet so reassuring. You’ve never had a man look at you the way Jungkook does, like he’s trying to remember every birthmark, curve, and detail. That level of intimacy was scary. You can’t help but squirm under his intense gaze. “You’re my girl now, aren’t you, baby?

His girl. You swoon. 

“I am, it’s just kinda awkward.” 

“How so?” He patronizes, bottom lip jutting out in a deep pout. “Can’t I look?”

“You can just… don’t stare.”

“I do what I want.” The sudden switch in his voice makes your breath hitch. “Move your arms. Let me see you.”

Oh. He’s in one of those moods. 

You and Jungkook rarely dabbled in sub and dom dynamics. Maybe, he was too afraid of intimidating you. Maybe, you were too afraid to initiate. But boy was his aggressiveness a treat. The duality between the relaxed attitude he carried in his everyday life, and the occasional primal beast that came out during sex, made your mouth water. 

“Really?” He tuts his tongue when you counter him with a scowl, raising a threatening brow at you, code for ‘go ahead, test me’. You do, not moving a muscle. 

Jungkook physically pries your arms apart and twists them behind your back, holding your wrists together in one hand. The swift movement makes you gasp.

“This okay, Bambi?” 

All you can see over the bubbles of your cheeks is his tangled, black hair. His forehead rests against your collarbones, sharp exhales fanning across your chest. The hot gusts make your nipples pebble and the light stimulation sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your spine.

“Yes,” you whimper. 

Using his free hand, Jungkook grips your jaw, indulging you in a sweet kiss. “Good girl.” The whispered praise has your clit throbbing. He turns your face towards the sleek mirror mounted on the wall. “Look at you, baby.”

Insecurity looms over you like a black raincloud as you’re forced to look at the reflection. The sight of your nude body makes you feel icky. Instinctively, you try to jerk away.

 “Hey, stop-” he gruffs, tightening his grip to cement you in place. “Chill. Take a deep breath.” 

You obey, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.

“Why are you so combative today?” The rough edge falters for a moment when Jungkook confirms that he ‘just learned that word yesterday from a synonym website’. You giggle. Why must he be so adorable? “Don’t I always take care of you?”

“You do.”

“Do you trust me?” You nod. “Use your words, baby.”

“I trust you, Jungkook.”

“Good girl,” he smiles, making you face the glass again. His touch is much more gentle this time, guiding you with a delicate finger on your chin. “Don’t look at me,” Jungkook chuckles when he catches you staring at him and then points at your bewildered expression, “eyes on you.”

Despite the initial resistance, looking own reflection isn't as difficult as it was the first time. There’s little things you pick up on, like the way your thick, fluffy hair lays. The way your chest looks so supple pressed against his. How your hips curve out at the right angle. Your skin is smooth and poreless. That Laneige toner is really out here doing the lord's work.

“Look at how beautiful you are.”

Although Jungkook’s words are sweet, you wouldn’t go that far. But you guess, one could say you’re cute—which is more credit than you’ve given yourself in a while.

“Aren’t you so beautiful, baby?”

You hum to appease him, but this experience was definitely a start. You’re gaining self-confidence, one baby step at a time. “You’re beautiful, too.”

“You think so?” He asks airily, flashing one of those teeny tiny smiles he does, where only his two front chompers poke out. You swear this man is an angel, or some mythical being that was too ethereal to exist on planet Earth. Mumbling a small ‘uh huh’, you peck at the corner of his mouth. His silver hoop feels icy against your lips, but his hands, rubbing soothing lines up your back, are so warm. “I wish you saw yourself the way I do,” he says with sparkly eyes. “How could I want anyone else, Bambi?”

Your heart swells two sizes too big and you don’t even know how to respond. 

“Alright, space girl,” Jungkook chuckles at your ditzy state, delivering a quick swat to your ass to bring you back to reality. An impatient, tattooed arm is hooked under your thigh, tossing you to the side before he gets to his feet. “Lay down. ‘S been a while since I ate that pussy.”

“Wait,” you say, unphased by his lewd comment. “Can I…” you look down at his crotch, “you know?”

“What?” He smirks at your vagueness. “Suck my dick?”

Foreplay normally consisted of Jungkook’s head between your thighs, his fingers milking your g-spot, or a shy handjob here and there. Now that he’s your boyfriend, you suppose it’s finally time to return the favor. Especially since he looks so delicious with his messy hair and his pretty tits out. 

“Please,” you choke, cheeks burning with embarrassment at how quickly the plead slipped out. 

“You don’t have to beg,” he purrs, stepping between your parted thighs sat at the edge of his bed. You gulp, nose aligned with his growing bulge. “Actually, yes, you do,” he retracts, swiping his big thumb across your bottom lip tauntingly. You’re dripping, already knowing where things are headed. “Been a bad girl lately, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” you pout, shrinking under his beady eyes, peering right at you over his big nose. “But you said we’re passed that.”

“We are,” he agrees, “but I could use some reassurance. Wanna give me a little bit, baby?” 

“How?”

“Suck it,” he requests, tapping his thick digit against your deep frown, “show me how good you’re gonna blow me… just so I know…”

God, you can’t deny him. Not when his voice is drenched in lust and he looks that yummy.  Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you grab his wrist, taking his thumb into your mouth, all the way down to his palm. Moaning, you swirl your tongue around the pad. He plays along, plunging and pulling his finger into your wet suction. Your lips are going to look so fucking pretty around his cock, Jungkook thinks. 

“‘Kay, no more,” he says, voice strained as he yanks his hand away. The movement makes you accidentally bite your tongue. Asshole. He proceeds to tangle his spit-covered hand into your hair. Major asshole. With a thick fistful, Jungkook shoves you into his clean-shaven pelvis. “Am I hard yet? Check for me?”

He knows he’s hard. You know he’s hard. But you indulge him anyway, mushing a sloppy kiss into his v-line. The view of his eyes is disrupted by the heavy heaving of his chest, and his cute little nipples; spiked and erect. Dipping down, you place a loving peck on the tip through his pants. The red material is damp from his arousal. “Yep, hard.”

“Cute,” he laughs in reaction to how sweet and innocent you look down there. “Take it out, then.”

You tug his pants down, letting them pool at his ankles. His boner springs up with vigor, whacking you in the nose on its path up to his navel. “Oh fuck,” he gasps, smacking a hand over his mouth in guilt. You glare at him, suspicious of how genuine that ‘guilt’ really is. Something you’ve noticed about Jungkook is that his smiles reach his eyes first. You don’t need to see his lips to know he’s holding in a laugh. The little stars in his irises and the crinkles in the outer corners blow his facade. “You okay, Bambi?”

“Control your dick, Jeon,” you sneer.

“Can’t,” he pouts, wrapping his palm around his tree-trunk-sized base while kicking his pants aside, “he wants you.” You’re impressed at how quickly he steers the conversation back to sex. Also, personifying his dick? That’s new. Clicking his tongue, Jungkook measures his hard cock across the length of your face. If it wasn’t for the curve, his pretty pink tip would be touching your hairline. “How’s he gonna fit, baby? You sure you can take it?”

The questions were rhetorical, purely dirty talk, but they held a piece of the intimidating truth. “I don’t know,” you respond honestly. 

“Have you ever done this before?” Sensing your nerves, he pulls back a bit.

“Only once,” you shiver, recalling the questionable memory. “So I don’t know how good I’ll be at this…”

“Pfft,” he dismisses your concerns, “don’t worry about that.” He pets your cheek and you nuzzle into his touch, thankful for the comforting gesture. Then, Jungkook plops down, shimmying up the bed clumsily until he’s hunkered down in his pillows. Following suit, you turn to face him and begin tying your hair up. 

“Wait!” He hollers, stopping you at the elbow. His eyes widen at his own unexpected outburst. “Leave it, please. I like it down…” he coughs, “so pretty.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your frizzy baby hairs shooting wildly in all different directions. Pretty? Regardless, you let go, messy strands falling in loops against your chest and back.

“I have flavored lube if that helps. In my nightstand.”

Of course, Jungkook owns flavored lubricant. It's pretty on-brand for him. But your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you open his top drawer, unveiling almost an entire Adam & Eve store. 

That’s a stretch and you’re dramatic.

Still, you stare in wonderment. There’s an unopened pack of condoms, ‘ribbed for her pleasure!’ printed on the front in purple letters. The blue and white wand next to it makes you choke. The Hitachi. It’s much bigger than you expected, but it makes sense. If it’s as powerful as Jungkook boasted, it must need a fucking car battery. You gulp. 

“Snooping through my things, Bambi?” 

“No,” you squeak, shaking your head. “You have quite the collection here, Mr. Jeon.”

“Mr. Jeon, that’s sexy,” he laughs, making you jump with an unexpected smack to your ass. “See anything you like?”

Cheeks ablaze, you stay focused, finally spotting the little aqua bottle of… blue raspberry flavored lubricant? You pick it up, causing a shiny piece of metal with a little glint of pink to roll out.

“Really, dude?” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow in confusion until he sees the silver butt plug, decorated with a pretty pink gem on the end. Absolutely perfect for you. “Oh, yeah,” he snatches the toy from your clammy hand and eyes it with pride. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“I can’t believe you actually bought one.”

“Why not? I said I was going to.”

“I know,” you huff with a nervous snicker, “but I didn’t think you were actually going to do it.”

“I mean,” he looks at you like you’re brainless, “you like anal, no?”

“No!” You shriek defensively. Anal play wasn’t even on your sexual radar...

Well, that’s not entirely truthful.

You enjoyed it the last time you had sex with Jungkook, in the shower, getting stretched out by his thick thumb in your butt. You remember how mindblowing and pleasurable it felt to be full. “Well, maybe. I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” he smiles reassuringly. “We don’t have to use it. I just figured it’d be nice to have, in case you wanted to experiment, you know?” 

He’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes you ill. 

Now that you think about it, your sexuality is basically untapped. You’ve barely scratched the surface of self-discovery. Before Jungkook, you’ve never had a man care about your pleasure, or encourage you to take risks for your own sake. No ulterior motives. Being with Jungkook was like skydiving. Horrifying at first, life-changing once you took the plunge. With him, the parachute was there whether you decided to jump or not. You know that you’re safe, so why not take the plunge?

“Actually, Jungkook,” you stammer, “I kinda wanna try it… the butt plug.”

“You sure?” 

“I’m positive.”

The conviction in your voice is like a beautiful ballad in his ears. Brick by brick, you’re opening up. Every day spent together, the walls erode a bit more. 

“I got the smallest size I could find, see?” He holds the toy up to his thumb to demonstrate. It’s only a little longer, a little thicker. “So it’s not that far off from what you’re used to.”

“Thank you, baby,” you gush, planting a fat kiss on the dough of his cheek. The contrast between his bready, baby face and his razor-sharp jawline makes you dizzy. You need him in your mouth asap. “Can I suck your dick now?”

“Absolutely, but first can you-,” his index finger twirls in a circle. You blink at him blankly. “Ah, fuck it.” Deciding it’d be much easier to move you himself, Jungkook sits up at the waist to spin you until you're face to face with his third leg, resting patiently against his stomach. The modified 69 has you creaming. “Like that…” he mumbles dreamily, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your track pants, tugging them down your thighs to expose your perky behind and glowy cunt. 

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Innocent little thing…” he whispers, smoothing a palm over your lower back. He leans up to chomp on the fat of your ass cheek, leaving bunny-toothed dents in your skin. A predator eating its prey. “Want help?”

“Please,” you mewl, melting under his touch. 

“Spit,” he orders, cupping an inked hand under your mouth. Reluctantly, you spit into his palm. He uses your saliva to wet himself, coating his unbearably hard cock with a few languid pumps. Opening the cap, Jungkook squirts a little drop of lubricant onto his finger. “Taste.”

You softly suck on his fingertip. The liquid is sweet like a blue raspberry jolly rancher, but it’s not nearly as sweet as Jungkook’s deep guttural moan and hooded gaze. So worked up just for you. Only you. Yours.

“This, too,” he coos, bringing the butt plug up to your lips, “suck it.”

Seeing him this needy and touch-starved was doing things to you. Maybe you should ignore him more often, if it meant that he would be this feral. You comply, wrapping your lips around the icy metal.

“Being so good, baby,” he affirms, resting the drenched plug against his solid stomach before squirting a generous amount of lubricant onto his length, tugging until he’s glistening with a sticky blue sheen. Big and pretty. “Just start with the tip, alright? Go slow.” 

You nod, mesmerized by the little bead of dew resting on the slit of his pretty pink head. Well, it’s a bit blue now. Cotton candy. Yummy. 

“Stick your tongue out.” You do, hovering closer. Jungkook taps his length against your tongue with nasty, wet smacking noises. “You want me so bad, don’t you?” 

You nod impatiently, making your flat tongue brush against the crown of his leaking cock

“Fuck,” he groans, “put it in your mouth.”

There are a few reasons why you find blowjobs problematic. Unfortunately, you were cursed with an annoyingly overactive gag reflex. Very unideal for dick sucking. However, your primary concerns were taste and texture. But Jungkook’s cock feels like butter when you take it into your mouth. Smooth and silky. And the lubricant made him candy-flavored.

“You like that taste, Bambi?” Jungkook chuckles at how eager and dutiful you look, licking and sucking on his swollen tip like a lollipop. You hum in response, slowly swirling your tongue around his tip with purpose. Giving you a hand, literally and figuratively, Jungkook starts stroking the shaft, stimulating the parts of him you have yet to gobble up. “Want more?” You’re not sure what he’s referring to, but you agree anyway, completely entranced by him. With that, Jungkook squeezes under the tip, and you feel a tiny burst of precum hit your tastebuds. 

He’s so sexy you could die. 

Moaning, you clench your thighs together for some much needed friction, causing a single drop of wetness to trickle down your leg. Right before his very eyes. He’s never been so hungry, and it would be so easy to just…

“Jungkook!” You moan so loudly you’re sure everyone on campus can hear it. He had laid his tongue flat, trailing your arousal back up to your pussy and then sensually dipping between your folds in one hot lick. He even traces higher, prodding against your other hole until you’re seeing stars.

“Watch your teeth,” he winces when you get carried away, “be gentle, baby.” Peeping a shy apology, you curl your lips over your teeth and slide down past the tip until you’re halfway down his length. You focus on your breathing, nostrils expanding as you inhale deeply. “That’s it, take more.” 

So captivated by his ‘yeahs’ and ‘uh huhs’, you miss the sound of a cap clicking open. Suddenly, you feel a cold drizzle slide between your cheeks, before a pair of warm hands spread the slippery substance all over. He uses the residual to thoroughly coat the butt plug. 

“Gonna put it in now.” He spreads you open with one hand, pressing the silver against your clenched muscle. “Let me know if anything feels off.” 

The initial push is a bit much. You pull off of him with a wet pop, whimpering as he sluggishly inserts the foreign object. He stops at the sound of your whines. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah- fuck,” you grunt, “big, thas all. Please, keep going.”

“I mean, it’s not that big,” Jungkook chuckles, running some saliva over the toy for more moisture, “you’re taking it well, though.” Slowly but surely, he works you open. The noises you moan around his cock are obscene. Not because it hurts, but because it’s so satisfying. 

“Feels good, Koo…”

“Sheesh,” he breathes, staring in astonishment at the pink gem in your ass, “it’s so fucking pretty. So sexy.” In his fucked out, head empty state, Jungkook bucks up, shoving all eight of his curved inches down your throat. He doesn’t realize what happened until you pull off with a gag and teary eyes. 

“Bambi,” he coos wearily and fear ridden. “I didn’t mean to do that, I swear.” 

You send him the meanest, fiercest glare you can conjure up, hoping his conscience burns just as much as your throat does. 

“No, come on,” he pleads in despair, reaching for you as you crawl away, “I’m sorry. It was an accident. I wo-,” 

You shut him up by hoisting a shaky leg over his hip, straddling him. “You really can’t control yourself, can you?” You hover over him with a teasing smile. How could you possibly stay mad at him when he looked like Tuxedo Mask? The dreamy love interest of your favorite cartoon. 

He sighs in relief, panic leaving his body as fast as it came. “No, I can’t,” he smiles softly, shaking his head and snaking both arms around your waist, “not with you.”

And at that moment, you swear you’ve never been happier. 

The closeness you felt was indescribable. Not physically, although his python grip was warm and comfortable. It was all emotional. You’re spiraling out of control, heading flipping and stomach somersaulting, but it’s okay—a contained type of chaos. Jungkook feels it too. The shift in the air. The subtle, yet painfully obvious, change in your dynamic. You’re different this time around. A little more outgoing. A little more fearless, as you sit on top of him. He loves it. He thinks he might even love…

“You gonna ride me, Bambi?”

“Mhm.” You feel like a schoolgirl again when you kiss him. That nervousness, wrapped in unbearable excitement, whenever you passed your first crush in the halls. Yeah, that's how you feel right now, looking down at the most stunning person you’ve ever experienced. 

Sparks. Fireworks. Butterflies.  

You and Jungkook exchange shy smiles when your hands touch, reaching for his erection, desperate to close the gap and become one. So ready to connect your bodies, minds, and hearts in the most intimate way. Clumsily, you fail at first. You’re both so wet that his flushed tip slips, completely missing your entrance and sliding past your clit. 

“Sorry,” you chirp abashedly. 

“That’s okay,” he pipes, holding himself up for you, “try again.” Just the thick head of his cock resting against your folds is enough to know that there’s going to be an adjustment period. A stretch. There always was, Jungkook is fucking huge. But you have a feeling that this new position would hit differently, making him feel bigger, harder, longer. With a firm grip on your hip, he guides you down onto his piercing length. A symphony of moans and sighs fills the room. 

“How’s that?”

You’ve never felt so full.

The butt plug makes the squeeze even tighter, pushing his cock right into your g-spot. The burn ignited a mind-numbing fire inside of you. That, or he was just so deep that you felt him in your stomach. “‘S okay,” you whimper, gnawing on your lip and clinging onto him for stability, “really deep like this, Koo.”

“Take your time,” he gruffs, wincing under the dig of your petite fingers, making little crescent indents in his biceps. Amid sex, the tension in your body served as a reminder that you’re still learning. He was doing his best to be good, but the way your pussy just swallowed him up like that, triggered something primal. Tightest, wettest pussy he’s ever had the blessing of penetrating. Biting his tongue until his mouth tastes metallic, Jungkook battles the urge to thrust up into you until you’re dumb and drooling. He’s trying so hard to be good. The internal struggle is heard in his voice when he speaks, strained and gravely. “Start slow.” 

Eventually, the tiny licks of pain transform into a milky, insatiable hunger. When you look down at him, all you see is the base of his thick neck, head thrown back as he succumbs to the gratification of your walls. ‘Wow, what a man,’ you think to yourself. Your man. Encouraged by your eagerness to please, you begin sloppily jerking your hips at a fast pace. No flow or rhythm. 

“Easy, easy,” Jungkook shushes with a grin, stopping you at the waist. “Why are you in such a hurry, hm? We have all night.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he laughs, grabbing the shaky hands that are resting awkwardly on your thighs. “Let’s get your form right first. Lean on me.” With the command, your palms are placed flat on his broad, solid pecs. Already, the angle and leverage work with his curve deliciously. “And it’ll probably feel better for you, if you moved like this instead,” Jungkook grips your ass, rocking you into a grinding motion. Instead of up and down, your cunt drags back and forth on his throbbing shaft. 

He’s right. It feels so much better like this. The dreamy sensation has you moaning and moving like a pornstar. 

To be honest, this wasn’t even the type of video Jungkook clicked on when looking through his PornHub feed in the mornings. Absently scrolling past orgies and blowjobs like the daily newspaper. He preferred things fast. Pummeling every inch into you before pulling out swiftly, leaving only the very tip inside to keep you needy and begging. But fuck, the slow, sensual rolls of your hips were turning his brain to mush. And the way you’re dripping down his balls might make him demote missionary to his second favorite position. He’s hypnotized, staring up at your perky tits, rippling and bouncing freely above him. 

“Yeah, baby…” you cheer, carding your fingers through his thick, healthy hair as he sits up at the waist, latching onto your nipple. The gentle runs turn into harsh tugs when he takes the sensitive teat between his teeth. The overstimulation makes you hiss. 

“Taste so good,” he huffs, “I can’t keep my mouth off of you.” Slicking his wispy bangs away, Jungkook leans back, stealing a naughty peek at you fucking yourself on him. Using him just how he likes. He spreads his legs apart, praying it’ll help you sink down even further, if possible. “Yeah, take it all…”

“Love taking it all…” 

That hot, gooey ballooning is already forming in his balls. The pooling in his shaft is a warning; he’s going to bust soon. Jungkook maintains a strict ladies first policy, so he needs to think of something. Fast. A lightbulb switches on in his head when your neglected clit glides across his smooth pelvis. 

“Hold on.” With a hand on your lower back, Jungkook squeezes you against him, preventing you from toppling over as he leans to the side and fiddles around in his special drawer. You gulp when he takes out the infamous vibrator. 

“You look terrified,” he jokes, pointing out your fearful gaze and plump lips, currently forming a cute little ‘o’ as you observe the wand. 

“Hm, I wonder why?” You scoff at him in fiend ignorance. “Oh, it’s superrr strong, most girls don’t even last five minutes,” you mimic in your best Jeon Jungkook impression. Voice dropping an octave to match his deep, even tone. You think it’s pretty accurate, but his melodic giggles say otherwise.

“I mean, it is,”  he confirms, powering on the vibrator, “but there’s different settings, like, here’s the lowest.” The white crown is placed on your inner thigh, letting you get accustomed to the movement before he uses it to destroy you, and your most private areas. The low rumble travels up the muscle in your leg until it reaches your clit with a faint hum. “See? Not bad, right?”

Wrong. 

The lack of foreplay on your end, had you teetering on the edge. So when Jungkook presses the strong, creamy buzz to your swollen bud, you’re a goner. 

“Fuck!” You wail. “This is the lowest speed?”

“Tell me how it feels.”

“I- oh!” Evilly, Jungkook moves the toy down, nudging the rounded corner underneath your hood, directly stimulating your little bundle of nerves. “I… don’t know… can’t… think right now…”

“Have nothing to say now, huh smart girl?”

Oh, so this was your punishment. 

If you could even call it that. You’ve never felt so fucking good. 

The rapture coursing through your vein forces you to stop, clawing at Jungkook’s shoulders. He picks up where you left off, rutting into you with vigor, hitting all of your sweet spots perfectly. That, combined with the smooth plug in your ass and the vibrator on your clit, has you overwhelmed and out of control. 

“Fuck! Jungkook, I can’t- too much.”

You’re cumming before he even has the chance to object. Thighs quivering. Arms shaking. Eyes rolling back into oblivion. The darkness is disrupted by lightning bolts of white, hot pleasure. Your entire body tingles like you’ve just stuck your acrylic into an outlet. Jungkook guides you to the light as you brace the crashing tsunami of your orgasm. 

A literal tsunami.

“You squirted.”

“I did?”

“A little.” Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to witness it. Just relished in the warm splashes on his pelvis, his upper thighs, and his cock. You nuzzle into his shoulder, groaning disgruntledly in shame. Jungkook humors you by resting his cheek on top of your head, swaying subtly as he holds you. “Guess you’re not my Bambi anymore. Deer can’t swim.”

“They can swim,” you murmur. “You don’t shit about deer, Jungkook.”

“You’re more like a fish or something,” he coos happily, ignoring your correction. “...Ponyo.”

“You like Studio Ghibli movies?” You ask, picking up your heavy head and looking at him with big, animated eyes. “Since when?”

“Since before my balls dropped,” he responds curtly.

“I didn’t know that…” 

“I think there’s a lot about me you don’t know yet, baby.” 

There’s no malice in his words. They’re not a sneaky jab, or an attempt to make you feel guilty. They’re just the truth.

“Can I ask you something, Kook?”

“Of course, you can,” he hums, friskily nipping at the apple of your cheek. 

‘Do you like anime in general? Or just Studio Ghibli?’

‘If so, what’s your favorite? Oh my God, this is so exciting!’

‘Is that your dog in those pictures?’

“You’re crazy, and yes, that’s my dog,” he chuckles at your endless string of curiosity. “But how about I nut first?” As if on cue, his member twitches inside of you, reminding you that he’s still hard and waiting patiently for his release. “And then you can interview me. Sounds good?”

“Yes,” you say, cheeks scalding. “Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry,” Jungkook repeats, pecking you lovingly. "I'm gonna lay you down now..." Strategically, he maneuvers you onto your side, plopping down behind you. You curl into his frame, back arching with the rise and fall of his panting chest, his beautifully sketched arm wrapped around your waist. The other rests on the bed, sticking straight out for you to use as a pillow. Your top leg is thrown over his hip, spreading you enough to run his length over your puffy cunt. Grabbing the Hitachi, he brings it back to your engorged clit. The touch makes you yelp. 

“Mm, I love how sensitive you get,” he whispers, licking a hot, needy stripe against your cheek. You peep out a confused noise, cowering under his tongue. Yuck. He’s so gross… but so sexy. “It’s not even turned on yet, baby. What would happen if I put it all the way up?”

“I think I’d fall in love with you…”

His heavy breaths stop as locks eyes with you. You can't distinguish the iris from the pupil. It all blends together like the night sky, filled with little stars of raw emotion. He’s pondering something, dewy lips parting and closing as the thought fades. 

Nothing is said, but you don't mind. Because when he enters you, rocking into you with languid, passionate thrusts, you feel it. The unspoken words surround you like the weather. They’re warm like a summer breeze.

“Mine, isn’t it?” He speaks against your lips, Hitachi set to the max, going full throttle on your nub. “Say it.”

“This pussy is yours,” you cry, crystal streams clouding your vision and streaming down towards his arm.

“Not that,” he chokes through gritted teeth, trying to postpone his orgasm. Waiting for you to say the magic words and open Pandora’s box. “You, baby. Tell me that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” he nods, lips curling in as he bathes in your dripping cunt. His strokes become short and uneven as he reaches the point of no return. “I’m yours, too.”

The declaration of reciprocal affection and want fills your chest before shooting to your core. You cum together, sighing into each other's mouths as pure, intense bliss takes over every square inch of your body. Every cell tingles. You try to kiss, but the seal of your lips is broken by your needy cries. During the mutual orgasm, Jungkook trembles. Chest, legs, and arms all quivering in unison as he milks both of you dry. Painting your walls with warm, white spurts until he has nothing left to give. The Hitachi isn’t turned off until you beg. 

Euphoria. 

When you’re done, neither of you can bring yourself to disconnect. Sex left your sweaty bodies idle and fucked out, but the intimacy of it all kept you rooted in place. Airy kisses are planted on your shoulder. Light scratches outline his tattoos. His seed is hot inside you in the most disgustingly comfortable way. You don’t move for a while, laying in each other's aura until the rain clouds fade and the milky way can be seen by the naked eye. Twinkling lights of stars and headlights flicker against his skin as you count his breaths. They grow more steady as the minutes pass. 

“I have a plan.”

Intrigued, you crane your neck, quirking a brow at the man behind you. “A plan?

Without warning, Jungkook expertly gets to his knees. Your ankles are hauled up by your head, manicured toes tickling his cotton pillowcase. Folded in half at the waist.

“Jungkook!”

“Bambi,” he huffs above you, softening cock still tucked inside of you. “Hold your legs for me.”

Oh. You know what he wants.

“Baby,” you giggle flirtatiously, hands curling under your thighs to keep them in place, “what are you doing?” He must want another round. Excitement bubbles in your squished chest and cramped stomach at the thought of having him twice in one night. 

“If you stay like this, I should be able to run to the bathroom without getting cum on my bed.”

“Are you kidding me?” You spew in disbelief and disappointment.

“Baby, please,” he groans with pleading eyes. “It’ll take two seconds, I promise.” 

“Fine,” you oblige with an overexaggerated pout, “but hurry. This hurts!”

With your permission, he scurries off into the bathroom. A light turns on and the faucet runs. He must be getting something to clean up with. Despite your best efforts, and the ache in your bent neck, his baby juice leaks out of you, cascading down your butt with impeccable speed.

“Jungkook, It’s dripping!” 

The door slams against the wall with a loud thud as he bursts through, wet cloth in hand. A second too late. “No!” He sighs in annoyance, dropping to his knees on the mattress, angrily watching a fat white droplet splash onto his black comforter. “Really?”

“What was I supposed to do?” You shout back playfully. The whole situation was dumb and immature, but you can’t stop laughing. You cackle like a madwoman when he runs the damp towel through your folds. “‘M ticklish,” you respond dazily when he raises a brow at you. The giggles turn into a sharp hiss when he slowly removes the plug from your swollen hole.

“Does it hurt?” Jungkook coos, spreading your cheeks to get a better view of the slightly red, inflamed area. 

“A little, but I’m okay. I promise.” 

“Good,” he hums, smacking your ass, hinting that he wants you off the bed. “Go pee while I change the sheets.”

There’s a change in your appearance when you look in his bathroom mirror. The girl reflected, wearing her boyfriend’s black, pine-scented, oversized hoodie, seems… happy. She is happy. The resting bitch face that Mina often teased you for is completely gone. All you see is glowy skin, bright eyes, and puffy cheeks. A tiny hand comes up to massage them. Ow. They hurt from smiling so much. From laughing like a maniac. You’ve never seen yourself so lively. You’ve never felt so alive. 

With a content sigh, you skip back into the bedroom. 

Jungkook is already settled, snuggled under the clean bedding like a big baby. The sound of the door opening makes him jump, waking up from the two minute nap he accidentally fell into. Turning to you, he smiles lazily.

You’ll never get used to that face of his. That beautiful face.

“I’m knocked, Bambi,” he yawns, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”

Heart heavy with warmth, you climb between the sheets. You lay on your back, preparing for him to sink his head into your full breasts like feathered pillows. His favorite cuddle position. 

“We never ate the pancakes,” you frown, noticing the plastic bags on his nightstand when you reach over, shutting his lamp off.

“‘S okay. We’ll eat ‘em in the morning.”

“Ew, Jungkook,” you scoff revoltingly. “They’ll be rotten by then.”

“You’re rotten but I still eat you.”

Hm. Touche. 

“You know,” he lulls, lips smacking together. It’s a habit that only comes about when sleep clouds his mind. “I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met.”

“Liar,” you whisper with a smile, twirling the loose strands at the nape of his neck. Just the way he likes. “You called me a bitch, the day we met.”

“You’re so dramatic. I did not call you a bitch.” The way his tired, hooded eyes blare open at your false statement makes you laugh. “I said you were bitchy. There’s a difference.”

You recount the memory.

“You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?”

“But underneath that attitude… I don’t know- There was just… something about you. Something special. And I knew that I could bring that side out of you, eventually."

“Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you.” 

God, why are you so emotional today? 

Tears pile into your waterline. They’re not from sadness or anger. 

Laying in bed with Jungkook, who’s sighing peacefully as he drifts off to sleep, you can’t believe that this is your life. 

After a few minutes of silence, you realize that there’s no way you’re following him into dreamland. You’re way too wired and ecstatic. Who could blame you?

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

No answer.

“Jungkook.”

A grunt of acknowledgment. 

“Are you awake?”

“No…”

“But you just responded, though...”

Silence.

“Can we watch Sailor Moon?”

Crickets.

"Jungkook?"

“Baby!” He whines, high-pitched and huffy as he turns his head in frustration. “‘M sleepin’!’”

“Jeez,” you roll your eyes, still sluggishly playing with his dark ropes. “Someone’s grumpy…” 

There’s another beat of silence before he speaks.

“Fine,” he groans dramatically, twisting back to his original position with a smushed frown against your boob. “I’ll watch one episode. One.” 

You squeak excitedly, pecking the top of his head in appreciation, pulling out your phone and turning on your favorite series with glee. He puts up a good fight; loopily murmuring ‘wow’ and ‘no way’ whenever you share a little fun fact about the character lore. Halfway through, the sound of Usagi and Rei arguing is overtaken by Jungkook’s soft snores. 

Soft for now. You know once he hits the REM phase, he’ll turn into a lawnmower. 

With a defeated sigh, you close the streaming app and put your phone away, cuddling closer to your boyfriend. 

Your boyfriend. 

You're dying to finish the season. At this rate, it's going to take you guys forever to watch Sailor Moon in its entirety. But that’s okay, you suppose, because forever with Jungkook doesn’t sound that bad at all. 

it's requited love yall :')

© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #btshoneyhive #btswritingcafe #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook series #jungkook scenario #jungkook au #kpop #kpop imagines #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you

[honeymark]

𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒏𝒄𝒕 𝟏𝟐𝟕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ㅡ

click 〔 here 〕 for the hyung line.

˗ˏˋ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 :: hi miss soojin ! could u write smth ab 127 comforting their insecure gf ? thank u so much ! ´ˎ˗

⇢ 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍 feels the most secure when you’re by his side, so he’s quick to notice when you start pulling away from him. at first, it was the texts — on the days you didn't see each other, you'd always text him throughout the day, even though you knew you wouldn't get a written response. it's not that he didn't read them; he was too busy with work to respond, so he'd always react with a thumbs up or a simple "haha." but then, your daily text threads stopped. he knew you had your own life, so he assumed you were too busy to send updates, but the nightly phone calls stopped, too. did he do something wrong? did you find someone else? what the fuck was going on?

he waits until the weekend to talk about it, and he listens attentively as you open up about wanting to be “less clingy and annoying.” he takes your hand in his with soft, cool fingers in a reassuring grip. “i didn’t know you felt this way, y/n,” he says softly. he presses a light kiss to your knuckles before delicately pulling you into a warm embrace. “you aren’t clingy or annoying, baby. you’re the cutest person in the world, and in a perfect world, i’d spend the rest of my life right by your side. nothing is as special as the time we spend together, and that includes reading your daily updates and watching all the tiktoks you send me and falling asleep to your soft snores on our nightly facetime calls. i love it all, and i love you, so don’t pull away from me, please?”

⇢ 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐎 isn’t one to ruminate on the past, mainly because he tends to overthink and overanalyze every little detail in a sticky situation. that being said, it would be a blatant lie to say that he hasn’t looked into your former relationships and partners. he’s matured enough over the years to keep his jealousy in check, but no matter how much time he spends with you, he just can’t seem to shake off a lingering insecurity that’s convinced him he isn’t fulfilling your needs…

which is why he’s all the more surprised when you bring up the same insecurities to him. he listens without judgement or interruption as you express how you’ve been feeling, his heart aching as you tearfully open up about not being enough for him. he waits for you to finish before enveloping you in a tight hug, and he thanks you for being vulnerable with him, reminding you that your feelings and concerns are valid. he gets carried away with listing all of the qualities he loves about you, and he doesn’t stop until you seal his lips yourself with a kiss. “there’s nothing to compare, my love. no one holds a candle to you. you’re the one for me, i mean it!”

⇢ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 knew from the moment you met that there was no hope for him; he was going to fall head over heels in love with you. it’s been five years since then, and his affection for you has only increased tenfold. he truly admires everything about you, from your ability to understand and empathize with others, to your independence and strength, to your resilience and readiness to bounce back from any setback, to your creativity and ridiculous sense of humor. of course, he appreciates your beauty (something that he reminds you of very frequently, especially at night 🤠), but more than anything, he loves you for who you are and genuinely cherishes the depth of your connection.

so, unsurprisingly, he’s concerned by how suddenly adamant you are about not wanting to get dressed in front of him, something you’ve been doing for years now. at first, he doesn’t think much of it; you reserve the right to privacy, and he respects that, but it goes on for over a week. he’s sure something is bothering you, and his suspicions are confirmed by how you immediately burst into tears when he asks you about it. he holds you in a firm embrace as you describe how insecure you feel because of your stretch marks and acne scars. nothing hurts his heart more than to hear you disparage yourself, and he waits until you calm down to share his thoughts.

"it's okay to feel that way, babe. but i'm going to be honest...i think you're beautiful no matter what. who cares about stretch marks or acne scars? those are just nouns. they don't mean anything, and they definitely don't take away from how amazing of a human being you are. you’re beautiful, and i can’t get enough of you.”

⇢ 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 is the first man you’ve ever met who’s been able to intellectually and humorously keep up with you, and you haven’t given him a chance to escape from your grip ever since (not that he’s ever wanted to, of course). the two of you met in college, and after months of constantly riffing off each other, you made the first move and confessed your feelings in an uncharacteristically sincere way. it’s been a few years since then, and while it’s undeniable that you two have the most fun when you’re together, you start to wonder if he really loves you. it’s not that your relationship was necessarily lacking anything; you two were plenty intimate, both emotionally and physically, but…it still couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

it’s one of those “let’s order pizza and rot on the couch for hours” kinds of nights when you finally find the courage to ask him, “do you love me?” he hears you, but it’s clear he doesn’t take you seriously; he doesn’t even bother looking up from his phone as he answers with a sarcastic “of course not.” he waits for you to respond with some sort of witty comeback, but you don’t. he glances up and nearly drops his phone on his face when he sees you tearing up. he immediately asks if you’re okay, and he solemnly listens as you make light of your insecurities. he pulls you into a rough hug and kisses you, his lips soft and sweet against yours. “shit, baby, i’m sorry. i didn’t know you were feeling this way. of course i love you. y/n, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and i’m sorry that i don’t say it enough. i love you, baby. i love you so much.”

#nct imagines #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct 127 reactions #nct 127 imagines

[elsweetheart]

havduaha hello hi i think i'm inlove with you- anw i reaaaaaaalllyyyy love your writing. got me giggling and kicking feet fr hdjashaj soooo i just want to request somethin or whatnot just... dealer!ellie... whatever you want to do just make my dreams come true so i can pass away in peace (just kidding... or not) just gonna leave it here, again i think i'm really inlove with you HAJDHWJSHA BYE MWA

hiiii omgomgomg thank u!! i’m so happy u like my writing + you’re so sweet of course i will write dealer!ellie she is so chefs kiss 💋

beginners luck — dealer!ellie

tw// drug usage !! not smutty just flirty <3 more to come tho !!

• you and ellie were always seeing eachother around campus, or at parties where she’d be doing business. so much so, that the two of you would often laugh to eachother and chat at social gathering about how often you bumped into eachother. things were definitely a little flirty from your perspective, but you didn’t wanna read into it too much. so she’s not a total stranger — you just wouldn’t consider her a friend, and you wouldn’t wanna be stuck in the friendzone anyway.

• she’s always wondered why you’ve never tried to buy from her and then simply put it down to you seeming too innocent to wanna smoke and honestly she thinks it’s cute.

• that is until you can’t sleep one night, mind super frazzled from staring at a computer all day that you decide fuck it, now is the perfect time to start.

• so you march over to ellie’s dorm, and everyone knows where ellie’s dorm is because everyone buys weed from ellie. you didn’t think to change out of the tank top that’s just a little too tight and your cute pj pants, and before it’s too late you’re knocking on her door.

• she opens up pretty fast, and she looks like she just got back — wearing a carhartt jacket over her hoodie, her sneakers still on. she lets you in and honestly she’s surprised and confused as you’re the last person she expected to come knocking at 1AM.

• “i want to… erm, i’d like to buy a…weed.” you try and sound confident but you shrink down when she chuckles, stepping aside and letting you into her room. “i got plenty of those.” she replies as she pulls out a metal box and you don’t quite catch that she’s slightly making fun of your naively worded request.

• she lets you fish through all the pungent baggies with labels you don’t understand on them before you’re looking up at her with doe eyes and a shrug. “i don’t really know what i’m looking for here.” you admit defeatedly.

• “you never smoked before? like not even at a party or anything?” she doesn’t sound judgemental, more curious and you feel more comfortable to be truthful.

• “no, never. just struggling to sleep and i think it might help me.” you respond earnestly and she thinks for a moment, seeming to analyse you before taking the metal box and closing it, storing it away.

• “i don’t usually sell to beginners. they don’t know what they’re doing and then they go away and smoke more than they can handle and then come freaking out at my door saying i laced them or some shit, which i obviously did not. but… i dunno, you’re always nice to me when i see you, and plus i know what it’s like to not be able to sleep. so, i’m gonna help you out.” she ranted, digging through another one of her drawers before she stood back up, holding a smaller tin.

• “thank you, ellie. you’re a lifesaver. what is that?” you ask shyly with your eyes on the tin. she pries it open and nods towards her bed. “sit down.” she offers in a softer voice and you do, watching as she gathers her equipment. “it’s my personal stash. the good stuff, you know. you don’t smoke pretty girls out with the cheap shit i sell.” she chuckled like it was obvious, continuing to set up her little rolling station at her desk, perching on her chair. you flushed all over at her calling you pretty and smiled.

• she talks you through how to roll and prepare the blunt, and you’re trying to listen — you really are. but you’re both finding it hard to concentrate when she’s that hot and explaining things to you, and you’re showing her how good of a listener you can be by responding with small dreamy “mhm”’s to her instructions. you swing your legs as you stare at her, her fingers continuing to do the last bit of rolling and twisting of the pink rolling paper she let you select.

• “now the boring parts out the way…” she smiled as she stood up, flopping down on the bed next to you and pulling her lighter out her pocket before setting them down on the bed between you and shuffling out of her jacket. you felt your body heat up and the close proximity and you kicked off your slippers, crossing your legs and facing her.

• she placed the joint carefully between your lips, eyes flicking from your mouth to your eyes as if for permission before lighting it. “now inhale and you’re gonna hold it for a few seconds, alright?” her voice was calm and quiet and it eased your nerves slightly as you did what she said.

• she let you take a few more hits commending you with a “see? you’re a natural.” before taking her turn, inhaling with more confidence as she relaxed back against the wall beside her bed.

• the two of you get talking as you smoked, and you clicked instantly, talking about her day and then talking about yours and laughing together. you almost forgot what you were doing, as after a while it became second nature.

• the fogginess started to hit you as she was talking and you began giggling, eyes now pink and watering as you observed how pretty she was as she spoke. she trailed off, taking a drag of the blunt and you moved closer to her on the bed.

• “your freckles look like little stars.” you tried to widen your eyes so you could see more and she chuckled, tilting her her slightly to catch your eye.

• “you good? it’s hitting you huh?” her voice was laced with amusement as you bit your lip and nodded with an innocent grin. “does it feel good?” she asked, in reference to the high but the question made your eyes flutter anyways. “mhm.”

• the good feeling lasted for what felt like forever, but when she made you laugh at a stupid joke a little too hard you found that your heartbeat sped up just a little bit too much. you tried to play it cool, taking a deep breath as you flattened your back against the wall, staring at her bedsheets.

• she moved her head slightly, trying to catch your eye. “you in there?” she cooed, placing a hand on your shoulder.

• “yeah. m’okay just... focusing on breathing.” you breathe out, a little whiny and trying not to panic. ellie barely reacts, reaching under her bed and pulling out a water bottle from a multipack, opening it for you and handing it to you lidless. “you’re alright, just smoked a little more than you can take for now. just relax, ‘kay?”

• she pulled her laptop up and put some kind of animated comedy on the screen to distract you, and somehow you ended up with your head resting in her lap as the two of you watched, ellie smoking another to herself. you relaxed yourself, and the high felt good again. you rolled over to look up at her, watching her smoke as her beautiful features were lit up by the glow of the screen. her eyes were pink and glossy now too and the room was smokey. you noticed the sock over the smoke alarm on the ceiling just past her head in your eyeline and giggled, attracting her attention.

• “what you looking at?” she smiled down at you and you shrugged it off, instead choosing to play with the drawstrings on her hoodie.

• “how much?” you asked sweetly. “before i forget.”

• “how much what?” she stroked your hair back.

• “how much do i owe you for this premium experience.” you giggled. “can see why so many people buy from you now. y’must be popular with the ladies.”

• she chuckled, but in a modest and almost nervous way as she leant back more against the wall— taking the moment to really look at you as you stared back. the weed induced haze gave you the confidence to hold her gaze without looking away.

• “i guess a beginner wouldn’t know that pretty girls smoke for free.” she smirked and you bit your lip in girlish excitement at her calling you pretty again. “especially pretty girls that are extra pretty when they’re all giggly and smoked out with big pretty pink eyes.” her voice was smooth and your heart fluttered again, but in a good way this time.

• “i suppose you should be paying me then.” you joked quietly and she laughed, nodding. you sat up slowly, eye contact not breaking once and your faces close.

• “so… do you let all your beginners lay in your lap and smoke with you?” your eyes danced between hers and her eyes were heavy lidded, lazily staring at your lips before blinking up at your eyes, stubbing out the last of the roach into the ashtray.

• “first time for everything. figured i’d try it out on the cute girl i see around campus that i was too much of a pussy to talk to.” her voice was quiet, almost lusty and you licked your lips.

• “me?” you breathed out sweetly and she smiled again.

• “clever girl.” she praised, pulling you in to meet her lips.

i don’t rlly like this but hey ho i can’t be bothered to write it again :))))

#ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams prompt #modern!ellie williams #ellie williams au #dealer!ellie

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Physical intimacy prompt “literally sharing a sweater” with Jamie? Like ur wearing a sweater and he’s all like “I’m chilly” and worms his way into ur sweater 🥹 thank u in advance i love ur writing so much

This was so fun, I hope you enjoy and thank you!!

Jamie had a few little quirks that made him ten times more lovely to you. His shoes and clothes were always organized by color. He had an extensive skincare display to go with his extensive skincare routine. There were certain foods that were reserved for before and after matches. One of his little quirks that you didn’t find quite as adorable was the fact that his house was always freezing cold.

It didn’t matter if it was 100 degrees or 0, his house felt like a frozen tundra. With the lack of air conditioning in England, you always wondered how his house managed to be so cold all the time, but you’d just assumed there was some sort of magical reason for it.

Whatever the reason, though, you always needed to keep a stock of sweaters and sweatshirts at his house, even in the middle of summer. At least you always had an excuse to buy more soft, oversized outerwear.

Today, even though it was the middle of July, you’d spent the day curled up in a large sweater, under a pile of blankets on Jamie’s couch. You’d started keeping some books at his place, and he had every streaming service imaginable, so even though Jamie was at training, you had plenty to keep you entertained while you waited for him to return so you could spend your evening together, just like you did most nights.

“Is this how you’ve been all day?” Jamie asks after he returns home to see you in the very same position you were in when he left early that morning.

“I read outside for a while,” you respond, pushing the blanket back to reveal your shorts as you pull the hem of your sweater to reveal a tank top. You’ve learned that it’s best just to layer, so you can be comfortable inside and outside when you’re at Jamie’s house.

He just smiles at you as he flops on top of you, not even bothering to bring his bag upstairs or make himself a snack.

“It’s fucking freezing in here,” he says, pushing his hands under your sweater to rest on your warm stomach.

“Oh, I’ve never noticed,” you reply with a voice dripping in sarcasm. You’d brought up your disdain with the temperature of his house no less than a billion times, but he always just dismissed you with a laugh and a “I’ve never noticed.”

Now, though, it was your turn to laugh as Jamie attempts to work his way deeper and deeper under your sweater, starting by pushing his arms the rest of the way inside the fabric before he tries to wiggle his head in too.

“Jamie, you’re gonna stretch it out,” you laugh, even though you know the sweater was big enough to fit you and Jamie and probably one other person.

“No, ‘m not,” he responds with a laugh of his own as he pushes his head through the neck hole, successfully wearing the sweater with you.

Jamie’s laugh was nothing short of infectious, and the two of you spend the rest of the night giggling together as you cuddled up in the same sweater.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #500 follower extravaganza!!

[satorisoup]

Kuroo with a girlfriend on the girls volleyball team, you can do whatever you want with it, but I think the dynamic is so cute

#KUROO W/ A VOLLEYBALL GF

#A/N : ugh ur so right this dynamic is everything. im foaming at the mouth rn i love him sm. sorry this is kinda short aghhh.

#WARNINGS : f!reader. petnames (baby, sweetheart).

kuroo felt like the universe sent you down with a note that read “here’s what you’ve been searching for”. him being a volleyball player himself, he had heard some good things about the setter of the girls volleyball team.

he met you by stumbling upon you leaving from practice. he knew that your team had just won a previous match, so he congratulated you. his cocky demeanor and smug grin wiping away into a intrigued look of admiration when you sweetly smiled, “thank you, kuroo.”. you were pretty. there was no doubt about it.

you knew him. you knew exactly who he was. the 3rd year captain of the boys volleyball team with pretty black hair and wide grin. you had heard of how good him and his team were doing. you never expected him to notice you, though.

it started out as him seeing you around school more with the occasional wave, then the flirty comments, then showing up to your games “just to see how the team is”, and eventually he won over your heart. him and that stupid, sly smirk.

you both support one another through everything and always find a way to make each other happy even on the days where u feel that you can’t be. dumb jokes and the laughter that follows with it is honestly all you need.

“good luck, sweetheart” kuroo said with a cheeky grin as his arms snaked around your waist to kiss your cheek.

it’s endearing, really. to see him watch you with furrowed brows and determined eyes almost as if he was on the court with you. occasionally shooting you a thumbs up or smile. but at the last second, you scored the winning point with a setter dump and his arms shot up before he could even process it. he’s cheering loudly for you, hands coming together to clap over and over.

“incredible, y/n. i could almost say you’re a better player than me” he said with the corner of his lips tugging into that damn smirk.

you playfully slapped his shoulder, responding with an “oh shut it, tetsu” before pulling him into a sudden embrace and a short laughter escaping your lips.

every game, every win, every loss, both of you were there to cheer each other on.

“im proud of you, baby”

#anime #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x you #kuroo fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #hq kuroo #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #kuroo tetsuro haikyuu #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyuu x reader #nekoma #nekoma x reader #nekoma x you #satorisoup #haikyuu

[sokkigarden]

dancing with our hands tied (part iv)

jamie tartt x female reader // nsfw 18+ // fwb

masterlist // read on ao3

summary: an emotional spiral sends you to jamie's doorstep… again

word count: 3k

this chapter took it OUT of me but i actually think this might be my fav chapter so far?? eeeee excited to share w you guys :) thanks to @hopefulromances for challenging me to write and trade feedback last night! sometimes u just need a lil extra motivation 😩🫶

༻✧✧✧༺

“Hey, you’re friends with Jamie, right?”

You looked up from where you were sitting at your desk to find Zach in the doorway. You were startled by his appearance. 

After getting drinks last week, you’d gone back to his place and fell into bed. He was fun and flirty and you both had a good time, but once it was late, he asked if you needed a ride home. You’d left after calling a ride, trying not to overthink it. It was just the beginning after all.

But it had been a week since then. Zach had been keeping his distance at work and hadn’t been responding to your texts that much. You figured he was busy with the new job, so you kept yourself busy as well. But that didn’t resolve the sinking feeling in your gut.

And now Zach was standing in front of you. Asking about Jamie Tartt of all things.

“Huh?” You knew you sounded dumb but you weren’t sure why Zach was asking if you were friends with Jamie.

“Did I do something to upset him?”

“What?” you sputtered. “Um, I don’t think so.”

Despite your confusion, you had also noticed Jamie’s coldness toward the new nutritionist. Richmond had a big facility and a lot of people employed, but after Ted Lasso brought his camaraderie and positivity to the entire club, it was easy to see when someone was being off-putting. 

Since last week, you hadn’t spoken to Jamie outside of your scheduled physio treatments. You weren’t typically alone during your appointments, and it was always after his ludicrous amount of training which left him tired, so you hadn’t had the chance to talk to him much.

“Maybe you’re reading too much into things?” you suggested. “He’s always been kinda rocky– you’ve heard the stories.”

You didn’t mention that those stories were from more than two years ago. You didn’t mention that he had been much better in recent months. 

“Maybe….” Zach replied, scratching the back of his head. 

You clearly didn’t have the answer he wanted, and the room fell into silence. You looked back at the work you had open on your computer screen, before taking a deep breath and being brave.

“Hey, so I had a fun time last week,” you started with a smile. “Would you, maybe, want to go out again?”

Zach suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in the treatment room with you. You tried not to let the feeling in your gut sink even further, but you could feel the smile falling off your face.

“Oh, um, I’m gonna be busy for the next few weeks, so….” he trailed off.

You pressed your lips into a firm line, nodding once. You didn’t need to hear anything else; he was clearly not interested in pursuing you further. 

The insecurities that had lingered for a week resurfaced from the corners of your mind. You’d gotten your hopes up again, and he clearly wasn’t on the same page. It was fine. You were getting the brush off. Nothing you hadn’t experienced before.

You just wished you’d known this wasn’t going to be anything when you went into it. It had taken time, with each heartbreak, but you thought you had built up walls to prevent yourself from getting hurt again. 

“Okay, yeah,” you said, “Don’t worry about it.”

Zach gave you a smile that looked more like a grimace before leaving you alone.

How had everything gone to such shit?

There’s a reason you’d made it clear with Jamie that your relationship was just sex. If it was explicitly just sex, then you wouldn’t let yourself form an emotional attachment. No point in letting your brain drift into romantic feelings. It never worked out anyways.

Thinking of Jamie brought you back to the first thing Zach said. Was there a reason Jamie was being a dick to him? You hadn’t seen them interact much other than at the bar last week. While you had wanted to bite Jamie’s head off at first, by the time you had a chance to say something, he had left. There was a lot left unsaid.

And if here was anything that would get your mind off things, it would be bickering with Jamie. 

You checked your watch, realizing most of the players were gone by this time of evening. You finished up the report you were working on. It was probably time for you to head home too. 

And maybe you’d pay Jamie a visit on the way home, too.

༻✧✧✧༺

Not even twenty minutes later, you were knocking on Jamie’s door unannounced. You hadn’t been there since last week, but there were no cars except his parked outside, so you assumed he was the only one home. 

When he opened the door, he seemed surprised to see you, his face going through about half a dozen different expressions before settling on raising his eyebrow in question.

“Stop being a dick to Zach,” you said in lieu of greeting, walking into his home. 

Jamie shut the door and pursed his lips. He clearly hadn’t expected to be instantly berated, but it was easier to act mad at Jamie than deal with being upset with yourself.

“Aren’t I a dick to everyone?” he asked.

“No, you aren’t,” you rolled your eyes, and said in a smaller voice, “Not anymore.”

You crossed your arms. “But you are acting like an asshole to Zach. Everyone sees it.”

Jamie scoffed, shaking his head. 

“Sorry,” he said, with a defeated tone, “You can tell your boyfriend I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Now it was your turn to sound defeated, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Jamie’s face perked up at that.

“Oh yeah? Thought you two were gettin’ cozy. Gettin’ drinks at Bones and Honey.” 

If it was anyone else, you’d think he sounded jealous, but there was no reason for Jamie to be jealous over you. He was just poking your open wound at this point.

You huffed out a breath of air, letting your arms fall to their sides. 

“He brushed me off,” you said, “If we didn’t work together, he probably would’ve ghosted me by now.”

All the frustration from the past few hours, the past few days, the past week, felt like it was bubbling to the surface. It wasn’t even like this was a new thing. You were just tired of the same thing always happening. Even when you tried to protect yourself, you still ended up getting hurt.

You were so focused on blinking rapidly to dispel the tears in your eyes that you didn’t notice Jamie wrapping you in a tight hug. You stood frozen for a moment, before wrapping your arms around his torso and nuzzling your face into his shoulder. 

The hug was so tight and warm and surprising, but it made you feel the best you’d felt in weeks, months. You didn’t even realize you were fully crying until you moved slightly and felt the wet patch of fabric on his shoulder. 

You pulled away a bit and tried taking some deep breaths, while Jamie brushed his fingers through your hair. As soon as he whispered your name, you pulled back further, still enveloped in his arms. 

“Sorry, sorry, I know this isn’t what we normally do,” you said. Your relationship consisted of arguments and sex, not tears and warm hugs. 

He shook his head, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “What’s wrong?” 

The tender tone, the soft look in his eyes, the delicate physical contact, made you start crying all over again. He gently led the two of you over to the couch, sitting down with you in his lap. 

“I just–” you sniffled, and it all came spilling out. “I just don't know what I'm doing ever. Everything I do seems wrong. I try to go after the things I want and it's never enough. I give too much, and yet not enough, and- and it's all shit.” 

Jamie’s brows furrowed together as you stared at his face. You focused on the line of his jaw and the grooves of his nose instead of his eyes. You didn’t want to meet his eyes. His hand gently grasped your chin to direct your gaze.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, as you held eye contact. “Things are hard, but they’ve always been hard, and you’ve made it through. You deserve good things. You’ll get them. You have them.” 

Those words were tender and sweet and all you wanted to hear, but a part of you refused to let yourself believe them.

“Yeah, okay,” you rolled your eyes lightly. “I guess.”

He let out a huff of frustration, before rearranging you to straddle his thighs. His arms squeezed your shoulders, but not in a domineering way; it felt soft, comforting. 

His hands were warm as they ran across your skin to your cheeks, holding your face to keep your eyes connected. He wiped the tears from your cheeks. His face held a hundred emotions and you weren’t sure what to make of any of it. 

“You have me,” he said.

You took a sharp intake of breath at his words. The words burned into your mind.

It was true. You did have Jamie. And he had you. In some sort of way. And for now, it would be enough.

He placed a soft kiss to your forehead, and then to both of your cheeks, lingering so close you could feel his exhales and swore you could hear your heartbeats in the space between. 

Then, he seized your mouth in a kiss, and it was like no other kiss you’d shared with him. While others were passionate and full of angry emotions, this was full of something raw, something untethered to your pre-existing idea of Jamie.

As you explored each other's mouths, you found yourself grinding against his lap, letting a moan out as you felt overcome with emotion. His hands ran through your hair, and you flexed your fingers under the fabric of his shirt, feeling the expanse of warm skin on his stomach. 

You tugged his shirt over his head, which broke the kiss, but you took the moment to take a breath. He kissed your cheek, your jaw, your neck, as he moved to remove your shirt as well. 

“Fuck, angel,” he said, and it felt like you were seeing each other for the first time.

It didn’t take long to remove more clothes, explore more of each other, before you finally sat down, feeling his dick slide into you. 

For a brief minute, you were frozen, breathing in each other’s air, staring at each other, taking in the moment. Then, he’s rocking into you and you’re meeting his thrusts, but it's slow, it's choppy in a heavenly way that you didn’t realize could exist between the two of you. 

“This feel good, yeah?” he asked, and you replied with a whimper of an affirmation. “Tell me this dick makes you feel good.”

“It does,” you managed to say, “You make me feel…”

He moved his hips in a way that made you see stars, leaving the last of your sentence unfinished. You scraped your nails through his hair, hearing something like a growl at the back of his throat. The sound spurred you on, rocking your hips with more determination.

“That’s it, baby, that’s a good girl,” he panted, reaching to connect your lips once more. 

You wanted to swallow him whole, wanted this moment to never end. His words were hot, but also flooded you with a different kind of warmth. You wondered if he even knew what he was saying. 

He tore his lips away after a moment and while you tried to gasp for breath, his next words made you nearly come on the spot.

“My good girl,” he whispered across your ear, before gripping your hips and focusing on where the two of you were connected.

The possessiveness in his voice tracked fire through your veins. 

You were close. You had to be. Despite how much you wanted to make this last forever, the heightened emotions were making things too much. You were feeling everything so intensely. 

He knew you were close, as he said, “Hey, look at me.”

You caught his eyes, watching each other’s faces as you finally came. Your jaw hung open, gripping his shoulders. You clenched around him as you rode out your high, and he came soon after. 

You sat there for a few moments, listening to your breathing and heartbeats mixing together. 

His hands drifted across your back in lazy motions as you nuzzled your cheek into the crook between his shoulder and neck. Jamie’s heartbeat was in his throat, his pulse racing. You could barely process everything you were feeling. What must he be feeling?

You had definitely calmed down after your spiral earlier this evening. Being with Jamie seemed to make everything else melt away. 

He readjusted you on his lap and pulled up his underwear. He grabbed his shirt from earlier and slipped it over your head. He cleared his throat, but didn’t fully pull away from you.

“I know you usually leave but,” he picked you up as he stood from the couch, “Not lettin’ you go home and spiral more. You’re staying tonight. Come on.”

He led you upstairs to his room, grabbing some new clothes from the dresser before guiding you into the bathroom. 

You didn’t do anything as you watched him turn on the shower and wait until the temperature was hot. It had been a while since you’d been in a shower with someone else, but you had a feeling this wasn’t going to be like those times. 

As soon as the shower was a good temperature, he stepped in, beckoning you to join him. He was offering without forcing you. You fought the smile creeping onto your face at his gentle expression. 

He guided you under the stream of water, combing his hands through your hair and lathering it with shampoo. The entire bathroom filled with the familiar smell of his hair products, and you felt a sense of satisfaction at knowing your own hair would smell like his soon. 

You took turns washing each other, nearly silent the entire time. It was an intimate act, and you found yourself clinging to Jamie maybe even more than earlier. 

You could feel the trails of tears across your cheeks from earlier wash away, but you could now barely remember why you’d been crying. Over some boy at work? You were all wrapped up in Jamie in the present moment. 

But this is what you’d been afraid of all along. This thing with Jamie was no longer just sex to you. And you’d known from the beginning, that if you let yourself fall for Jamie, it was over. He would ruin everyone else for you. 

What, with his silly outfits, and funny yet frustrating conversations, and the way he seemed to know your body even better than you did. 

You doubted this was anything else for him, you didn’t fit the profile of people he dated, you told yourself not to get your hopes up. You had shoved those feelings in a drawer at the back of your mind and hoped if you told yourself it was just sex, you wouldn’t fall for him.

But somewhere between the arguments and the sex, you held real conversations with him, confided in him, looked forward to seeing him each day.

Maybe it was already too late. The thought had your eyes welling up with more tears, but luckily you were facing the shower wall, as he rinsed the conditioner out of your hair. 

By the time the both of you were done, the tears had subsided, and you turned around to give him a watery smile. 

When you stepped out of the shower, Jamie wrapped you in a fluffy towel and your heart squeezed at the domesticity of it all. 

“Better?” he asked.

You nodded. You were feeling a lot better. Even if you were finally acknowledging the romantic feelings wedged deep inside of you. Even if those romantic feelings ended up being your downfall.

He grabbed the clothes he’d brought into the bathroom and divided them between you both. Two pairs of sweat shorts and two t-shirts. You knew you were going to drown in the fabric before you even put them on. You were proven right as he slid the shorts up your legs and tied off the drawstring to keep them up. You both chuckled at the sight.

After brushing your teeth, stealing some of Jamie’s skincare, and drying your hair, you didn’t have any objections as you both got into bed. He pulled you halfway across the mattress, to wrap his arms around you in the middle of the bed. 

“I’ve got training with Roy at four a.m., but I’ll be back before you wake up. Usually get back for breakfast around seven.” Jamie mumbled as he turned off the bedside lamp and wrapped his arms around you.

“Four in the morning?” you asked, “What are you going to do, bury a body?”

He chuckled, “Wouldn’t put it past Grandad, but no, we usually just go for a run.”

You shook your head at the absurdity. Even though you worked at the football facility, it was easy to forget that Jamie was a professional athlete when it was just the two of you, tucked away beneath his sheets.

As you felt yourself getting sleepy, you traced the tattoos across Jamie’s forearm in the faint light, feeling his breathing deepen as he drifted off to sleep. The lull of his exhales across your earlobe soon brought sleep to you as well.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt smut #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x ofc #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #my works #dwoht fic

[yenonnoff]

r. suna (oneshot) — one last time

pairing: suna rintaro x reader

content: mild angst, established relationship/ex lovers

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: unable to sleep, you impulsively decide to call your ex-boyfriend, suna rintaro

a/n: my first one shot !! thank u to everyone who’ll be reading this (this is my first time writing for suna so forgive the potential ooc)

“hello?”

the beeping ceased and a familiar voice came from the other side of your phone.

your breath hitched instantly—it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice. slowly, you managed to respond, “hi, rin. it’s y/n.”

for a moment, a pause shifted between the two of you, neither one saying a word. you close your eyes in anticipation. perhaps you should’ve said more; perhaps you should’ve given a reason as to why you’d called him so unexpectedly, so spontaneously. you should’ve, but you didn’t.

on his end, you heard papers shuffling accompanied by the sound of a pencil dropping. he was doing homework even while it was past midnight—typical of him. you resisted a somber smile, memories of late night calls together flooding your mind.

rin’s voice cuts through the intolerable silence, something you were grateful for.

“oh, i thought i recognized the phone number,” he said.

his nonchalant tone pained you—his words hurt you even more. you knew the implications: he had deleted your phone number and had already moved on. as you squirm over your impulsive decision to call him, rin thinks nothing of it. clearly, you weren’t over him, and he knew that.

“why’d you call me, y/n?”

you almost didn’t respond, too distracted by his lulling voice saying your name.

“the chemistry professor wanted me to pass you a message. the final project isn’t due next week, it’s due at the end of the month. oh, and that you also left your notebook in his class,” you state hastily.

you had prepared precisely for how to reply in this exact situation. obviously you couldn’t call him out of nowhere—you needed an excuse. even while your mutual friends, osamu and atsumu, had warned you not to reach out, you still did. now you were going to find out whether it was worth it or not.

you heard rin release a soft breath, the sound of his squeaky chair accompanying it.

“so you called to tell me that?” he asked plainly. underneath his unperturbed tone, you sensed his confusion and mild curiosity.

when you didn't immediately respond, he continued, “you could’ve sent an email or a text message.”

you bite your lips—so that’s what he thinks of the current situation. of course you had thought about that before calling him. the fear of him seeing right through your excuse plagued your mind as you hovered over the call button. in the back of your mind, you knew you should’ve just emailed or texted him to relay the professor’s message. however, a part of you detested that idea. it reminded you of how you were just classmates now; just acquaintances with mutual friends; just strangers during passing period.

you exhaled heavily, mumbling something underneath your breath as your eyebrows furrowed with exhaustion. maybe you could be honest—was there really anything to lose? keeping your voice steady, you said, “i could’ve, but i just wanted to call you.”

for a while there was nothing but silence. you contemplated ending the call until rin asked, “is that so? or was it because you couldn’t sleep, y/n?”

closing your eyes again, you tugged your blanket closer to your body. he was correct—of course he was correct. you blame the sight of your empty bed; the sight of the neat, gray pillow that he would always hog; the sight of the uncluttered nightstand that he would constantly dump his belongings on, for your impulsive decision to call him. even now, you couldn’t sleep, haunted by the memories of him laying next to you.

your voice became quieter, your eyelids falling loose. “yes and no. you’re right, i couldn’t fall asleep and had wanted to call you, but i didn’t lie about the professor’s message or your notebook.”

“y/n,”—rin’s voice hasn’t changed ever since you’d called him—“do you want me to stay on call with you until you fall asleep? just one last time?”

you paused before replying, a bittersweet smile forming on your face. “yes, if you don’t mind.”

you hear rin pick up some papers and set them aside. you knew what came next: he would reach underneath his desk and pull out a folder containing his lyric sheets and guitar chords. pulling your knees closer to your chest, you couldn’t bear the suffocating nostalgia.

“are you still working on that new song?” you asked hesitantly.

humming in response, rin continued to scribble god knows what down on his paper. maybe they were lyrics or new ideas that had just popped into his head. even while the two of you were still in a relationship, you didn’t get the chance to ask him much about the song. as curiosity swirled around inside your mind, you found yourself in agonizing regret.

however, now you do have the chance to ask him. what genre is the song? what was the inspiration? you smiled to yourself, readjusting your position on the bed. you were filled with boundless inquiries that will never see the light of day—you made sure of it. it pained you, but you were okay with keeping your peace; after all, you didn’t want to remind him (and partly yourself) of the reason why you broke up. surely you’d discover the answers to your numerous questions after the song is released. it’d be easy: you’d just need to ask the internet and boom, you’d have your answers. still, it’s different when you’re asking him directly and hearing the answers from him, and only him.

biting the inside of your cheek, you close your eyes to the sound of rin tapping his fingers rhythmically against his desk, an old habit of his.

truthfully, the answer wasn’t very complicated: the two of you were just too different. it sounds simple, but underneath that was a challenge that even you two couldn’t overcome. your future profession requires you to be active, present in one location, while rin—an aspiring musician—plans on signing gigs and touring around the world. you loved him for that, and because of that love, you ended things with him.

you sucked in a breath.

maybe… rin also felt the same way. maybe he also loved your enthusiasm and passion, but wondered if his absence would hurt you. maybe that was why he had agreed to your breakup proposal without any ounce of doubt or hesitation. in that moment, you didn’t ask why he seemed so unbothered, you simply took your belongings and left. you should’ve asked—you really wanted to know.

when rin spoke, his voice startled your eyelids open. “have you been having trouble sleeping, y/n?”

there it was again, the sound of him saying your name. you blink away the memories, replying, “yeah. it’s just stress building up, that's all.”

before, it wasn’t so bad—you had rin after all, you would call him and he’d stay on the phone with you until you fell asleep. however, now it was different. you no longer have the comforting sound of his soft breathing lull you to sleep; you were stuck with the silence of your dorm room and the bitter aftertaste of loneliness.

still, you were going to be okay. you have to be okay—not only for yourself, but also for rin. you knew how he’d react if he discovered your numerous sleepless nights.

sitting up in your bed, your fingers traced shapes on top of your blanket. you weren’t going to fall asleep any time soon anyway.

randomly, you broke the silence, “the chemistry professor is really strict, isn’t he?”

you heard rin’s quiet voice from the other side of the phone. “yeah,” he said, “i definitely failed the presentation on friday.”

laughter seeped through your lips. you didn’t mean to, but you couldn’t deny that he did actually fail the presentation—it was the truth. catching your breath, you mused lightheartedly, “what did you expect from pairing up with atsumu?”

quietly, rin sighed—you could bet a fortune that he was currently furrowing his eyebrows. “the man was saying complete nonsense. the things he said weren’t even on the slides.”

you nodded, there was no denying that either. however, you had to give atsumu some credit for his public speaking skills. he may have received a zero in the informational section, but you were confident he aced the speaking and clarity portion with flying colors.

“maybe we should cut him some slack,” you said. “he did make the professor laugh a couple times with his jokes.”

“awful jokes you mean.”

you smiled. “extremely awful—but i’m pretty sure they helped both of you score some extra points.”

you heard rin relax in his seat, his chair squeaking with fatigue. “do you think i’d have a better chance at passing if i paired up with osamu instead?”

you groan almost instantly at the mention of your partner’s name. while dealing with osamu was 73% better than his blond haired, high maintenance twin brother, osamu was the one who contributed largely to your many sleepless nights.

“based on your groan, i’ll take that as a no,” rin remarked teasingly.

you heaved a sigh. how cruel he was for finding the situation entertaining… as you remembered all the nights where you stressed over the presentation with osamu mercilessly (and unhelpfully) watching you on facetime, you felt a cold shiver down your spine.

“hey,” rin said, his voice lacking any mirth from before. “i thought you did really well. your presentation was good, don’t worry about it.”

your shoulders relaxed and you whispered a quiet “thanks.” he really was cruel; was he even aware of how genuine and considerate he just sounded? probably not, he was like this during your relationship as well. one of the reasons you fell for him was because of how effortlessly caring he was—and it seems, still is.

after a while, you said, “well, positively speaking, osamu does his part well, i guess. he bought me a lot of food during that time too, so he’s not that bad, i guess.”

you heard another one of rin’s quiet chuckles. “you can’t compliment him and then end with ‘i guess,’ y/n.”

“why don’t you try complimenting atsumu then?” perhaps you sounded more irked than intended, but secretly, you were smiling with amusement.

there was a pause until rin eventually said, “that’s hard. he’s just an attention hogger.”

you grinned pleasingly. “that’s true. maybe that’s why he’s dragging me to that party tomorrow.”

“oh, that party? you’re going to it?”

a wave of unease washed over you and you reached to pull your blanket closer. you hummed in response, weary of where the conversation was headed.

“is that so? have fun then.” he said. “take care of yourself and wait before driving. i’m more worried about you than atsumu,” he added with a chuckle.

his voice had remained the same: nonchalant and rin-like—but this time, there were hints of tenderness in there. he really was cruel for catching you off guard like that.

“you aren’t going?” you asked.

“atsumu asked me to go, but i’m busy that day. i’m visiting the studio to finish up the song.”

your silence felt like an eternity, your words getting caught in your throat.

“are you worried about going? if anything goes wrong just call me,” he said as if it had been the easiest thing in the world.

now you really didn’t know what to say. he was so, so, so irritatingly cruel.

“thank you, rin. i’ll make sure atsumu doesn’t pass out and that we get back to the dorms safely.”

“no problem, i hope you have fun.”

you hummed, allowing silence to seep into the conversation. it was nice of him to say that, but deep down, the two of you both knew this was your last phone call together.

reaching towards your nightstand, you turned off your lamp. when you settled back into bed, you said plainly, “i should probably go to sleep now.”

you waited for him to respond, but all he said was a simple “yeah.”

“thanks for staying on call with me, i appreciate it.”

“don’t mention it.”

you smiled. “good night, rin.”

for the next couple of minutes you laid there silently, recalling the previous moments on call with him. you thought about all the laughter the two of you shared, along with all the remarks and silly comments exchanged throughout.

before, you wouldn’t have dared to call him or even speak of him, too sad to consider what it’d be like if you did. now, you wondered how your past self would react upon witnessing what you’d just done.

rin had spoken to you so kindly—so reassuringly. in reality, there was nothing for you to fuss about. to him, he was just glad to hear you’ve been doing well (minus a couple sleepless nights). it’s hard to say whether you’re friends again or not, but you were certainly more than acquaintances.

slowly, your eyelids felt heavier and you drifted off to sleep. you wondered how you’d feel in the morning: overwhelmed? energized? or would you still feel empty and stuck as if you were at a dead end? would there be a sense of accomplishment or disappointment at all the unanswered questions left after the call ended?

what was your relationship with him now?

that night you slept soundlessly, you didn’t even notice your alarm blaring at you to wake up in the morning. however, strangely you didn’t feel anything when you awoke—not even annoyance at your troublesome alarm. it was just another day, but with the exception of your friend atsumu dragging you to a party.

as you reluctantly got ready and returned to make your bed, you were reminded of your phone call with rin. what was your relationship with him? you hesitated to answer that question, freezing as you held your blanket in your hands. hastily, you tidied your sheets and rearranged your pillows.

did it really matter? all you could think about was how, regardless of being broken up, rin still cared for you enough to stay on the phone until you fell asleep. he wasn’t angry or defensive, he was just worried. what kind of relationship you had with him now didn’t matter—you and him care for one another and that’s all that matters.

a smile formed on your face and you got ready to meet up with atsumu. when you grabbed your shoes, your phone rang and you saw a familiar number.

you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. maybe you were excited to go to the party after all.

“sorry, ‘tsumu. i’m coming right now!”

additional a/n: TYY for reading this 😘😘 i asked may @kqbukimono for advice on what u’d do if u called ur ex but she said he wouldn’t have done it in the first place such great help right 😬 (jk ily) + the title is inspired by the song one last time by summer salt !!

#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu suna #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna x reader #suna rintaro fic #fanfic #angst #romance #suna rintaro angst

[williamswifey]

PLS A PART TWO TO THE BELLA YOU JUST POSTED. IT IS SO GORGEOUS. OH MY GOD

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 - 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐘

part one ; the exit

masterlist

pairing ; bella ramsey x fem!reader

summary ; your ex bella had texted you after months of no contact. you knew what you were getting yourself back into as soon as you replied.

content warnings ; slightly toxic dynamic, angst with a happy ending, bella is still sort of an asshole but working on it

a/n ; hi lovelies <3 im absolutely honored at how much love part one got, i knew i had to get a part 2 up asap 😩 i hope this ending is satisfactory !!

‘hey.’

your face paled as you read the text on your screen. was this some kind of joke? was your phone company fucking with you?

your heart rate soared as you looked at the words on the screen. should you respond? should you leave them waiting? you didn’t know how to react, and your palms were growing sweaty as you felt your chest tighten.

“what’s wrong?” heather’s voice rang out cautiously, “you’ve got this…look on your face.”

“bella just texted me.” you replied, voice void of emotion.

“oh, shit.” came her softened reply.

oh shit was right.

you spent the entire afternoon staring at the text. you were tempted to reply immediately, but you didn’t want to seem desperate.

you were barely able to get any work done, you were thankful that it had been a slow day with barely any customers. you didn’t have it in you too deal with anyone else today, as you stressed and stressed over the text message.

a part of you—the smarter part, knew the best idea would be to not reply at all. you didn’t like that idea very much.

you took a deep breath, and opening the text.

‘hi :)’ you typed out, before deleting. too flirty, not enough anger.

‘what the fuck do you want?’ you typed out seconds later, before deleting the text entirely. definitely don’t send that.

‘hey.’ you message parroted theirs, but you deleted it again. what if it was too boring and they didn’t reply?

‘who’s this?’ you wanted to send out of spite.

you weren’t above being petty, but that just felt plain mean.

a part of you wanted to call them, to hear their voice again. your missed the sound of their voice, even if you only heard it for a few seconds before your call disconnected.

that idea was the worst of all.

you sighed as you flopped against your sheets, a deep sigh rumbling out from your chest.

anxieties began to rush in your mind. what if bella texted the wrong person? what if they were drunk? what if it was a prank?

you stilled your shaking hands, sending a simply ‘hi.’ as you threw your phone across the room.

you didn’t expect your phone to buzz seconds later, the sound amplifying from the pile of clothes it had fallen into when you tossed it aside.

you walked over to your phone, unlocking it.

“it’s been a while. how are you?”

jesus. so it wasn’t the wrong person, nor was it a drunken text.

‘fine. u?’

you tried to keep your text brief, debating whether or not to continue the conversation. you knew that being in touch with bella again would only lead to more heartache, but you couldn’t ignore the thrill you felt in your stomach at the chime of their texts.

‘do u still live near our old apt?”

bella’s text made you furrow your eyebrows, as you quickly sent a reply. the term ‘our apartment’ made you feel sick to your stomach.

‘i live about two hours away. why?’

your heart raced as bella’s text bubbles appeared.

‘i’m in the area for a press conference. was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch.’

fuck.

your heart raced as you read the message over and over. what did they want? were they just looking for closure, or did they want you back?

for the next few hours, you struggled with your emotions. you couldn’t decide whether it was a good idea to meet them or to leave things as they were. in the end, bella was your weakness—they always had been.

‘sure. when?’

bella was quick with their response, even though you had left them on read for a solid three hours and forty-five minutes.

‘tomorrow afternoon. come to our spot, my treat.’

your heart raced. ‘our spot.’ you and bella had found a small italian restaurant a few years back, with food that was to die for. it wasn’t well known, and it was your secret.

‘okay.’

***

you had barely slept all night. you were awake just past 9am, you had a two hour drive to make to get to the restaurant.

you showered and changed, putting on a light floral dress, your hair natural and flowy. you would pretend you didn’t put extra time into your appearance, but you knew it was a lie.

when you approached the restaurant, your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. you were a few minutes late—due to traffic, and while you should’ve felt apologetic, you felt bella deserved it for being an asshole.

you walked into the restaurant, fiddling with your necklace. bella spotted you immediately, flagging you down as they called your name.

“over here,” they called, as you nearly knocked yourself to the ground from how fast you spun around.

bella was sitting in a booth, smiling at you as they gestured for you to sit across from them.

bella looked…different. a little taller, much more confident. their style had changed, and you hated to admit how good they looked.

you wanted to run out of the restaurant, your intuition told you this was a bad idea. but the heart wants what it wants.

you sauntered over to them, plastering on a smile that you hoped didn’t look too painful as you slid into the booth across from bella.

“you look stunning as always,” bella commented, a small smile on their face.

you had to remember they were just being polite as you fought back the blush on your cheeks. you thanked them, drinking a large gulp of your water, feeling the cool liquid trickle down your throat.

it was soothing, and it took your mind off bella, who was staring thoughtfully at you from the other side of the booth.

neither of you wanted to start the conversation you knew had to take place, so instead, it was silent.

you noticed they tried not to be on their phone, eyes darting all around the restaurant. you wondered if nostalgia was hitting them the way it was hitting you.

you remembered going here with bella at least once a week when you were dating, making a night out of it. it was your favorite day of the week.

now, the restaurant seemed to have lost its magic. it didn’t feel like home, not like it used to. you wondered if it had been simply being with bella that made the place so magical all those months ago.

“so, how are you?” bella asked, picking at their nails.

“i’m okay,” you replied, voice a little breathy. your heart hadn’t stopped its somersaults in your chest since you arrived, “and yourself?”

bella began to update you on their life. it was painful, seeing how much they had accomplished without you. your heart ached at the twinkle in their eyes, the excitement in their tone. the way they made you feel hadn’t changed.

it was easy to talk to bella, you forgot how much they made you feel like you belonged. it was like old friends catching up, not missing a beat. it felt like nothing had changed…but deep down you knew that everything was different.

bella was like an addicting drug. so easy to go back to…so hard to let go of. you remembered why you put up with their bullshit for so long—because they were bella and you were you.

when the waiter came, bella listed off both of your orders without a second thought, like second nature.

perhaps they noticed you slight glare as the waiter walked away, causing them to speak up.

“oh, sorry,” they said, “is that not your order anymore?”

you sighed, shaking your head.

“it’s not that, bella,” you began. their brown eyes glanced your way, and you felt suffocated under their dreamy gaze.

“it’s just—what are we doing here? i mean, you’ve been doing your own thing and i’ve been doing mine. why all the sudden did you decide to reach out?”

bella was quiet for a moment, fiddling with their rings as they cleared their throat.

“i’m sorry,” they said, catching you off guard, “for what i did. i was a selfish asshole, and i know i hurt you.”

you wanted to say it was okay, but you’d be lying.

“thank you for the apology, i appreciate it,” you decided to reply instead.

you hated how it was between you two. it should’ve been easy—it was easy…when you two were pretending that nothing had changed. the two of you had always fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle.

now that you were tackling what had gone wrong, the atmosphere didn’t feel quite as comfortable.

“i don’t want things to be like this anymore. i miss you.” bella said.

six months ago, it was everything you wanted to hear. but now, the words that rolled off their tongue settled bitterly in your stomach.

“did you think all you had to do was say you’re sorry and i’d come running back?” you spat, “plus, don’t you have a girlfriend?” you asked.

bella looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. they opened your mouth to reply, then shut it again after a few seconds out of pure confusion.

“no?”

bella looked at you as they tilted your head. what about everything you saw?

“you don’t?” you asked in confusion.

“last i checked, i’ve been single single we broke up,” bella now seemed just as confused.

“but, your instagram and the news headlines—”

“you’ve been stalking my instagram?” bella asked, a slight teasing tone in their voice as your face went red.

“i—” you tried to defend yourself, but the words died in your throat.

“i’m just messing with you,” bella said, the atmosphere balancing on the line of tense and airy, “if you’re talking about amara…she’s just a co-star. news and headlines just like to gossip.”

“oh.” you felt stupid for bringing it up. you hated how bella could manipulate your emotions so easily, for better or for worse.

they knew it too, it’s not like they were that stupid.

you felt bella’s hand brush against yours, bringing your attention back to them.

“i’ve had a lot of time to think. no one compares to you.” bella spoke, and you didn’t know how to react.

you wanted to slap them, kiss them, scream at them, and cry, all at the same time.

“you put me through hell, you know?” you said sadly, fiddling with your necklace yet again, “i was there for you. before your career took off, when you needed a shoulder to cry on.“

“i’ve beat myself up everyday for what i did. there’s no excuse. i was new to all the fame—all the interviews. i wanted to leave my old life behind—so that’s exactly what i did. i was shitty. i owe an apology for everyone i’ve wronged, but especially you.”

bella looked down guiltily.

“i can’t take back what i did,” they said slowly, “but i’d like to try.”

you licked your lips, noticing the sincerity in their voice.

their eyes were doe-eyed, lips puffy from biting down on them.

you knew you should walk away, prevent the inevitable hurt you’d go through again when bella got bored. but for now, you picked your poison. you’d take the happiness for now, a fair exchange for the pain you’d feel later.

you tried to shush the voice of insecurity in the back of your mind. for now, bella was yours, and you were theirs. they looked at you the same way they did when you first started dating, all giddy and love struck.

you laced your hands with bella’s, a smile growing on your face.

“yeah,” you agreed, as bella shifted in their seat hopefully.

“i’d like that.”

#bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey blurb #bella ramsey imagine #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey x y/n #bella ramsey drabble #bella ramsey #bella ramsey angst #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey imagines #bella ramsey fic #bella ramsey x fem!reader #ellie williams x reader

[inlovewithpandora]

- Unaware -

Pairing: Neytiri x Fem!Oblivious!reader

Request: [ 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anon ] hi hi hi! so i’ve had this idea in my head for ages now��� could you maybe do neytiri x fem!reader where reader was good friends with slywanin before her death (so she’s like 1-2 years older than neytiri) and she’s always been kind of oblivious to neytiri’s BIG crush on her, and then when jake comes and neytiri starts spending more time with him and stuff the reader realises she likes neytiri way more than friends, andddd when reader and neytiri are talking one night reader is kinda jealous saying things like “jake is a good guy i’m happy you’ve found him” and neytiri just gets frustrated and confesses that she’s been in love with reader ever since they were kids and that jake could never even compare to her and then it ends with a kiss or two 🤭 IDK I JUST LOVE THIS IDEA

Synopsis: Over the years you’ve been oblivious to Neytiri advances toward you and it takes you seeing her with another to realize how much you love her.

Content/Warnings: Reader being oblivious, Neytiri being a lover girl, Jake flirting with Neytiri which makes reader jealous, love realization, love confession, first kiss, implied experienced!Neytiri, implied innocent/virgin!reader, suggestive ending/implication of sexual activity!

Author’s Note: Hi Anon, Thank you for requesting! I hope this fic meets your expectations. I kind of got carried away with the ending so…yeah😭.

- My first Neytiri x reader fic!

- please excuse any mistakes!

Word Count: 1.8k

Glossary: tsakarem - Tsahìk in training || skxawng - idiot, moron

Extra: Requests are open! Please read rules prior to requesting!

Links: Navigation || Masterlist || Taglist

"Don't you see how she looks at you?! She clearly likes you!" your friend Samä has been trying to open your eyes, trying to make you see how much Neytiri liked you but you were completely oblivious to the matter.

"Samä...Neytiri does not like me" You shake your head as you continue gathering fruits in the forest.

You and Neytiri have grown closer over the years, especially after the death of Sylwanin and the closer you both became her fondness for you grew as well. She was completely in love with you but you were wholly unaware, too busy caught up with the image of her being your friend's little sister.

"Yes, she does! How can you not see it? the whole clan can see her love for you, EXCEPT YOU!"

"Oh, my Eywa Samä please stop okay?" You roll your eyes as you begin to grow annoyed with the conversation, "I'm not in the mood to hear you shove your ideas down my throat" Samä has been bringing this topic up for months now, trying to make you realize how much the tsakarem adored you.

"Whatever, but if you don't get it together and stop acting dense someone else is going to swoop in and catch Neytiri's eye and it'll be too late"

You just ignore her and continue putting varieties of fruits in your basket for communal dinner tonight. After a while you completed the task so you began to head back to the village. As you walked into the communal hall, giving your fruits to the head gatherer Neytiri spotted you from afar.

The way you bent over slightly, giving a good view of your backside made Neytiri's tail swish behind her. She loved you, everything about you made her feel as if she was floating on a cloud. She felt like Eywa planted you on Pandora just for her, every time her eyes met yours she felt as if time was frozen.

She's been trying to get your attention, to make you see the love she has for you which is spewing out of her pores but you're blind to the fact that she wants you. She has blatantly flirted with you on numerous occasions but you never reacted or flirted back, you would just respond casually and most of all platonically.

She couldn't understand why you were acting unknowingly. She was almost bluntly showing you her feelings, telling you how much she liked you and you were just completely unaware of it. Sometimes she felt as if this was a case of unrequited love, that her feelings were just one-sided but deep down she knew that one day you would come to your senses and realize you were fond of her too.

—

Over the last few weeks, you've watched Neytiri and a new member of the clan named Jake become close. The way she smiled at him as her golden eyes glistened under the sunlight, watching Jake touch her flirtatiously which causes a purple hue on her cheeks, everything about it just rubbed you the wrong way.

As of this moment, you were helping some warriors in the healing pod when you saw Jake and Neytiri walk in. You watched Jake sit down on the mat next to you and saw Neytiri bringing a basket of supplies over with her. As you heard them engage with each other your ears perked up, openly trying to hear their conversation.

"You need to be more careful Jake" Neytiri tells him as she begins to tend to the few scratches and cuts on his arms.

Neytiri was giving Jake a lesson on having balance and agility and it didn't go as planned. Jake was very uncoordinated and heavy-footed which caused him to fall flat on his face multiple times and get scraped by tree branches.

"I know, I know, but I'm just not as graceful and light on my feet as you." he chuckles while looking up at Neytiri, his lips curling into a small smile.

As you watch them interact with each other it makes your lips curve into a small frown, watching her fingertips dance across his skin made a feeling bubble up inside you that you haven't felt before towards someone... Jealousy.

You were jealous that they had this connection, it just made you feel angry for reasons you couldn't fully understand. Once you finished healing the warrior you walked out of the healing pod and tried to clear your head so you could try to find some clarity as to why you felt this way.

As you walked around the village, playing moments with you and Neytiri in your mind you began to focus on her beauty. Her small frame, her amber eyes, her beautiful smile, the way your name majestically rolls off her tongue every time you have a conversation.

Thinking of all the ways she ever touched you, either with a simple hug or just an unintentional touch made a swarm of butterflies flutter around your stomach. You've never felt this way about anyone before, especially Neytiri. You always saw her as Sylwanin's sister but now you're beginning to see her differently.

'Maybe I do like Neytiri' you thought to yourself as you walked along the forest floor. Now you were beginning to feel stupid. Stupid that you didn't realize Neytiri's affection for you sooner because now it was too late, she was now falling for Jake.

—

It's been almost a week since you realized you had feelings for Neytiri and watching her be with Jake has been gnawing at your core. You wanted to express your newfound love for her but since she looked so happy with Jake you didn't want to ruin what they had.

Tonight Neytiri decided to come by your marui so both of could create some new jewelry together and hang out, "Your anklet looks great y/n" Neytiri praises your work as you begin to adorn your anklet with wooden beads and pebbles.

"Thanks, yours look good too" When you looked at her all you could think about was her spending majority of her time with Jake and it made you envious. It flowed so deep within you that at the moment you had to say something in an attempt to dig up information about how close they were.

"it seems like you and Jake are getting close..."

Neytiri looks up from her weaving and shrugs her shoulders, "Yes... I guess you could say that" Neytiri liked Jake. he was sweet, funny, and a troublemaker but she only saw him as a friend, she never even gave it a second thought as to him being a potential love interest.

"Well Jake is a good guy he'll be lucky to have a strong woman like you by his side. I'm happy you've found him" you speak in the most sincere manner possible. Trying to show your friend that you're happy for her even though it's slaughtering you on the inside that she's interested in him.

"Happy I found him?"

"Yes I mean it's clear both of you like each other"

Neytiri's face scrunched up in confusion, she didn't understand where you got this idea from when she's bluntly been flirtatious with you.

This was the last straw for Neytiri.

She was sick of you being oblivious to her feelings. It was making her frustrated, so frustrated that she decided to just flat out confess her love for you.

"I don't want Jake nor do I like him, I want you. I've been in love with you since we were children" 

"R-Really? You have?"

"Yes you skxawng!" she chuckles while shoving your shoulder lightly "I can't believe you've been so oblivious to it all this time"

Neytiri places her hand on your thigh and begins to glide her fingertips against your smooth skin "I have yearned for you so long that my body aches whenever my eyes wander to you. Jake could never make me feel the way you do, he doesn't compare to you in the slightest way"

Your body immediately rises in its temperature and you become so flustered that your breath began to hitch. Neytiri's hand rested on your thigh and the sweetness of her words made a fire burn deep within your core, it was as if a switch inside you flipped.

"I-I don't know what to say" A nervous giggle erupts from your throat, the way you felt at this moment was unexplainable.

"Say that you like me too, tell me that you see me..." she pierces her eyes into yours, looking at you with dilated pupils that were blown with pure love, desire, and most of all lust.

"I know I acted like a skxawng all this time but now I've realized how much I love you... I see you 'Tiri"

A bright smile tugs at Neytiri's lips. This was the moment she has been waiting for ever since her heart made room for you. Neytiri moves her hand from your thigh and places it nape of your neck which makes the hairs on your neck stand at attention. You glance at her plump lips, silently begging her to kiss you... so she does.

She pulls you into the most passionate, loving kiss.

Her lips on yours were hot, and every inch of your body felt feverish as Neytiri's hands began to roam parts of your body that no one ever has. The way Neytiri kissed you was magical. She was more experienced and you could tell by the way she was nibbling your lips just enough to make you moan into the kiss, sending vibrations through both of your bodies.

Even though this kiss lasted a few moments it felt as if it lasted for eternity. Both of you pull apart from each other and all that could be heard was the echos of the two of you heavily breathing. The aura gleaming off both of you was hunger, you both were craving each other.

"Can we do that again?" you asked shyly as you glimpse at her beautiful, breathtaking frame. Your head tilted down slightly as your eyes slightly widened, almost gulping as you take in her physique, particularly eyeing the perkiness of her breasts.

Neytiri chuckles at the sound of innocence in your voice. She takes her hand and tilts your chin upward, forcing you to look into her hypnotizing eyes, "We can do that and more..." She pulls you in for another kiss, moving her hands down your frame until she reached the strings of your loincloth and starts untying them slowly, "I can't wait to taste you on my lips" she whispers in your ear, her cool breath grazing against your skin which causes goosebumps to rise.

You could barely wrap your mind around what was about to occur but you were ready for all of it as long as it was with her, with Neytiri, the woman you love.

I hope you enjoyed🩷!

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©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

#❖ — 🌳: 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑨 𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻.! #❖ — 🪸: 𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑺 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺.! #avatar fanfiction #avatar james cameron #neytiri x oblivious!reader #avatar the way of water #avatar fandom #neytiri #neytiri sully #neytiri x y/n #neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite #neytiri x you #neytiri x reader #neytiri x fem!reader #atwow x you #atwow neytiri #avatar neytiri #atwow x y/n #atwow #avatar x female reader #avatar x fem!reader #avatar x y/n #avatar x you #Neytiri x na’vi!reader #avatar x na'vi reader #avatar fluff #avatar smut #atwow fluff #avatar fanfic #atwow x reader

[claymoresword]

I Choose Her | Chp: 10

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of known death eaters from one of the richest and oldest wizarding family. Are you prepared to abandon everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: hermione x reader

Wordcount: 4.6k

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse, smut, nsfw, top!reader, strap on use, g!p (kind of)

Note: right off the bat im just gonna warn u the smut in this one is kinda filthy ??? admittedly i got a little carried away im sorry

but same as last time i added asterisks before it so feel free to skip it if u want!

once again i just want to thank u guys for all the kind words and love shown on this story so far. i love reading your thoughts, it's actually one of the best parts of sharing my writing :) so yeah don't hesistate to comment if u want to! i read them all

alright that's it! i hope u enjoy this one <3

taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @coralieesau @blackbirdv98

It’s been a little over a day since you left your parents home with no word. You could only hope Draco was covering for you like he promised. Although no death eater has stormed the burrow looking for you yet, you took that as a good sign.

You glanced at your watch, you had been waiting for Hermione for about half an hour now. Being ready in fifteen minutes seemingly gave you no real advantage as you’ve been stuck waiting in the living room with Harry.

“Have you found out where he’s hidden the other hocruxes?” Harry blurts out, after moving to stand next to you.

“What?”

You asked, but the truth is you heard him the first time. What bothered you was his insistence on having this conversation now.

Harry doesn’t repeat himself, merely raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“No, I haven’t.”

Harry rolls his eyes and you grow increasingly irritated.

“I've only been at it for three days mate, will you relax?”

“We are running out of time.”

You don’t care for his tone. If he wanted to work together he’d have to start addressing you a lot nicer than that.

“You don’t think I know that?” You spat, stepping closer to him.

Fred shoots you a look from across the room and you quickly realise other people were witnessing your squabble.

Feigning a warm smile in return, your hands moved to Harry’s tie, you began fixing it for him.

His poor attempt at a Windsor had been bothering you all evening

“Look, I have an idea of where they might be but I need to be certain. Give me a few more days.” You whisper, hands moving to his collar straightening it up.

Harry only nods but doesn’t break your gaze.

Just like that, there was no trace of hostility between the two of you. Harry’s short temper was a direct result of his fear, you could see that now.

“Thanks.” Harry says sincerely and you appreciated it. Perhaps you have been too harsh on him yourself.

“7 years at Hogwarts Potter and you never properly learned how to tie a tie?” You quipped.

Harry lets out a huff in amusement but he wasn’t given the opportunity to respond.

“Were the two of you about to kiss?”

Ginny remarks as she walks in, standing next to Harry. He wraps his arm around her waist.

You scoffed.

“Yes actually you’ve interrupted a very intimate moment.”

You mostly joke but the fact is that was the nicest interaction you’ve had with Harry since knowing him.

Ginny says something in response but you’ve stopped listening due to the sight before you.

You watched as Hermione came down the stairs, looking more elegant than you’ve ever seen her.

Your mouth fell agape, you didn’t think it’d be humanly possible for anybody to look this stunning.

Your girlfriend notices your expression and grows self conscious under your gaze, she looks away shyly.

Stepping forward you quickly held the side of her face, pulling her in for a kiss.

You continued to take in her appearance after your lips left hers. Not attempting to conceal your awe.

“Alright, stop that. You’ve seen me wear this dress before.” Hermione says, placing her hand against your chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I truly am the luckiest girl in the world.” You whisper earning a real smile from Hermione.

The blush creeping up to her face only urges you to capture her lips into another kiss.

“Look at that–” Ginny shakes her head disapprovingly.

“Hermione enters the room and all of a sudden we’re invincible.”

“Anyway, we need to get going. We’re late.”

She says aloud but you make no effort to acknowledge her.

Instead you move to plant a kiss against Hermione’s jaw. You hear her giggle before she speaks.

“Come we’re late, let’s go.” Your girlfriend says intertwining your hands.

You oblige, letting her guide you to the front door.

“Unbelievable.” Ginny scoffs.

“Are were sure Hermione didn’t enchant her? I’ve never seen anyone behave like that unless they were under a love potion.”

“No it can’t be, love potions wear off.” Harry answers and you roll your eyes.

They can’t be serious.

════════════════════════════════════════════

Standing next to Hermione you watched as the bride and groom entered the tent. Everyone making their way to congratulate the newlyweds. In this moment they seemed immeasurably happy and it makes your chest hurt.

Considering everything going on in the world right now true happiness was difficult to come by. Everyone seems to be clinging onto any semblance of it they have at an attempt to remain sane.

You feel Hermione hold your arm tighter, almost like she read your mind. Bringing her palm up to your lips you placed a tender kiss against it.

You held her hand in yours as you slowly guided her to the dance floor.

Releasing it you stepped away from her before you spoke.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” You asked, holding out your hand dramatically.

Your heart flutters at the sight of Hermione laughing as she takes your hand.

“Yes, you may.”

Your hand finds her waist and for awhile the two of your slow danced in comfortable silence.

The sound of Hermione sighing ends your moment of bliss.

“What is it?” You ask and Hermione lifts her head off your shoulder to look at you.

She then shifts her gaze and you take it as a sign to look over your shoulder.

You find Ron standing a few feet away, a drink in his hand. He looked miserable.

If you didn’t know any better you’d be annoyed. Hermione had shot him down years ago and yet he still couldn’t let her go.

You leaned in to whisper into Hermione’s ear.

“I thought he was with Lavender?”

Your girlfriend shakes her head before speaking.

“No, they broke up.”

“Again?”

She was a little intense but you thought they worked together, somehow.

“I hate seeing him like that. I feel terrible knowing I can never like him back the way he wants me to.”

Hermione has never shared this with you before. Although, it made a lot of sense.

Ron had been her friend since first year and they practically grew up together.

“I understand. Though that sounds like something he has to navigate on his own. You’ve told him the truth about your feelings. I don’t think there’s anything else you can do.”

“I know, it’s just unfair.” Your girlfriend rests her head against your shoulder again.

After a long silence, you speak.

“If you want, I have somebody I can set him up with. After all of this is over.”

Hermione raises her eyebrows in shock and you can’t deny how much you’ve also surprised yourself.

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Ofcourse, I don’t want him to be miserable. I mean I’m not totally devoid of empathy.”

Hermione reaches up to run her fingers through your hair, her longing gaze made your knees weak.

“Thank you.” She leans in to kiss you but you are interrupted by a noise in the distance.

A blue light suddenly appearing inside the tent, the both of you walk closer to get a better look.

A voice emerges from it that sends a chill down your spine.

“The ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead.”

“They are coming.”

The last message echoes and you feel a searing pain in your arm.

The dark mark suddenly pulsing uncontrollably, you winced in pain.

Hermione quickly notices.

“Y/n, what is it? what’s wrong?”

A loud crash in the distance prevents you from answering.

Another crash followed by screams and the both of you quickly realise what was happening.

“Hermione!” Ron rushes over, attempting to pull her away but she doesn’t budge.

Pleading with her eyes, your own were quick to well up with tears.

“I can’t come with you–” You attempt to pry her hand off you.

“Go. I’ll find you. I promise.”

Your girlfriend hesitates and another scream makes her flinch.

“Hermione, please. Go.”

You watched as Harry grabbed her other hand, the three of them dissaparating.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You waited a few hours longer than intended to return home. That feeling of dread in your gut only festered the longer you procrastinated.

You decided to just rip off the band aid.

Stepping through the front door, as expected, you are greeted with a slap across the face.

Holding your face that is now stinging you meet your mother’s gaze.

She is fuming.

“Where the devil have you been!”

“I left to get some air–”

“For two days?” She raises her voice.

“I’m sorry mother I should have asked you first.”

“Yes, you should have.” She steps closer, your back now pushed up against the door.

“When are you going to start taking this seriously?”

“You are a death eater.” Your mother pokes your chest to the point of pain.

“Your only job is to serve.”

“If the Dark Lord finds out you have other commitments he will kill you. Do you understand that?”

You kept your gaze fixed to the ground as you nodded.

The look she’s giving you is deadly and not something you’ve ever gotten used to.

Your mother reaches out and you flinch for a moment before feeling her light touch against your cheek. With her thumb she stroked gently at the same spot she had hit you just moments ago.

“Come. He is waiting.” Placing her hand on your back she guides you to the living area.

As you entered the dining hall, you took note of the heaviness in the air. A darkness that caused you to feel deeply unsettled.

Numerous death eaters were sat at the dining table. Catching Narcissa’s gaze she smiles at you kindly and you reciprocated. Her innate tenderness was a rather chilling contrast to the vibe in the room.

Every seat had been filled except for the one next to Voldemort.

The Dark Lord flashes you a grin and his is one that causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand.

“Ah, y/n our new recruit. So glad you could join us today. Come.”

He beckons you over. Walking closer he quickly gestures to the seat next to him.

“Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, My Lord.” You barely manage to choke out, your stomach turning.

Glancing at the ground you watched as a large anaconda slithered underneath the table.

That thing could easily kill a fully grown human if it wanted to.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Now where is Dolohov? He should have been back with the boy hours ago.”

A beat passes where nobody answers and Voldermort slams his fist against the table causing everyone to flinch.

“My Lord, we found Dolohov in muggle London with his memory wiped. I am afraid the boy got away.”

“So what I’ve come to understand is that I sent my best death eaters to retrieve him and not one of you succeeded?”

Voldemort abruptly stands from his seat.

“Can anybody tell me where he is?”

Silence.

“Severus?”

It was only then you realised the Professor had been sat across from you.

“My guess is he still hiding out in London, my lord.”

Bellatrix can be heard clearing her throat before she speaks.

“I’d like to volunteer myself. I will kill the boy.”

“As much as I admire your bloodlust Bellatrix, he must be brought to me. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.”

“Yaxley, Thorfinn find the boy. Search every inch of the city if you have to. Do not return empty handed.”

Yaxley stands to take his leave but the other death eater does not move from his seat.

“Forgive me my lord but I have just returned, if only if could be allowed some rest–”

Voldemort walks over to him without a word and the air in the room stills.

“Avada Kadavra.”

The flash of green dissipates as quickly as it appeared and you watch as Thorfinn slumps back into his seat, motionless.

The Dark Lord lowers his wand and you release the breath you were holding.

Feeling your entire body tremble, you suppressed the urge to flee.

“Would anybody else like to rest?”

More silence.

“I will go with Yaxley, My Lord” Greyback states already getting up from his seat.

“Very well.”

“Nagini, come. Dinner.”

The snake slithers out from underneath the table.

The noises of bones crunching as it devoured Thorfinn whole would be haunting your sleep for nights to come.

════════════════════════════════════════════

Three weeks since you’ve last seen Hermione. The longest you had ever been apart from her and it is starting to take a toll on you.

“Y/n– did you hear what I just said?” Draco says snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Just forget it.” Draco grumbles, going back to practicing his spells.

“You know, as hard as I try I can never cast a Patronus.”

“How’d you cast yours? What’s your happiest memory?”

Your bestfriend asks and you aren’t able to control the tears welling up in your eyes.

All of a sudden, you had your head in your hands, your entire body wracked by sobs.

“Woah– what did I do?” Draco asks frantically, taking a seat next to you.

You fail to answer and he places a hand on your back soothingly.

“It’s Hermione isn’t it.”

“I don’t understand, if you’re this miserable just go and see her again.” Draco says and you lift your head to look at him.

“I can’t, if my parents find out–”

“I already got in trouble last time.”

Draco stays silent for a moment and you accepted it to be the end of the conversation but he continues.

“You don’t have the trace on you anymore, you know you can just lie.”

“Your problem last time was not having a solid alibi. Just tell them you’re staying with Pansy for a few nights and ask her to corroborate for you.”

You found his cavalier tone amusing.

“You seem to know a lot about this Draco– speaking from experience?”

“Perhaps.” He shrugs.

“Wait do you have a secret muggle girlfriend or something?”

Draco’s face contorts in disgust and you let out a laugh.

“I just enjoy my time away. My parents– well my father, he can be a lot.”

You nodded placing a hand on his knee

“I get it.”

He pats your back in response.

“Well, are you gonna see her or what?”

“Yeah, actually I will.” Standing up, making your way over to the desk.

You had to send an owl to Pansy first.

“Thanks.”

Draco gives you a nod.

“You’re welcome.”

════════════════════════════════════════════

You apparated to the forest of dean. Skeptical at first but quickly remembered Hermione telling you about how she’d come to the forest often with her parents. It made sense why she’d pick it as a hideout.

Looking around you don’t manage to spot anybody, seemingly you were alone.

“Revelio.”

A shot in the dark.

You casted the spell hoping that Hermione or anyone would show themselves.

The veil now lifted you let out a breath of relief when you spotted a tent in the distance.

Stepping through the barrier you lift up your wand again, re casting the protective enchantment.

You begin to make your way towards the tent but you’re stopped by a figure running up towards you.

You quickly recognised to be Ron.

He points his wand, not making an effort to lower it even after realising it was you.

“Oh.”

You notice his shoulders sagged at the sight of you.

Ron, still as charming as ever.

“Good to see you too Weasley.”

“Is my girlfriend here?” You ask without referring to Hermione by name on purpose.

Its been far too long since you antagonised him.

Hermione seemed to have overheard your voice as she soon emerges from the tent.

Practically sprinting towards you, she throws herself into your arms.

If your feet hadn’t been firmly planted on the ground you definitely would’ve fallen backwards and brought her down with you.

“Hey, baby.”

Your hand stroking her back instinctively.

“I was afraid I’d ever see you again.” You hear her voice shake and you leaned back, urging her to look at you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

You reached forward, wiping away her tears as you spoke.

“Don’t disappear on me like that again, please.”

“Never again. I promise.”

Hermione leans in to place a quick kiss against your lips, your attempt to deepen it was halted by her hand on your chest.

She glances at Ron uncomfortably and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

He somehow always had to be there, lurking.

She grabs your arm before intertwining your fingers, guiding you closer to the tent.

“How’d you even find us.” Ron says walking ahead of you.

“That’s for Hermione and I to know and for you to find out.”

You smiled at him brazenly, making every attempt now to infuriate him. Ron rolls his eyes before turning around to make his way inside the tent without another word.

It seems you have won this round.

════════════════════════════════════════════

“Say, exactly how many spare tents do you have in that bag of yours Hermione?”

The both of you lowering your wands as soon as the corners of the tent finally stands upright like they’re supposed to.

“I brought two just in case.”

Thanks to your girlfriend’s tendency to be overly prepared, the both of you would get some privacy tonight.

“Food’s ready, guys.” Harry calls out and you made your way to sit by the fire.

You began eating your meal in silence until Ron came over to sit across from you.

“Good, you’re eating.” Ron says to Hermione and you catch her shooting daggers at him.

You copy your girlfriend’s expression but instead yours was directed at her.

“You haven’t been eating?”

Hermione focuses her attention on the food on her plate.

“Sweetheart, you can’t–” You paused.

Suddenly cautious of the fact that the boys were listening in on your conversation.

Harry notices and quickly turns to Ron, he began making aimless remarks about the food.

You may disagree on a lot but you appreciated his ability to pick up on social cues.

“Hermione I don’t want to have to worry that you aren’t taking care of yourself when I’m not around.”

“I’m sorry I left you worried but please think of yourself too.”

Hermione pursed her lips nervously.

“You’re right I’m sorry– but you have to promise me the same.”

“Whatever happens to me, you’ll look after yourself.”

You almost forgot how shrewd Hermione can be. A smirk forming across your face, you nod.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You were sat on the makeshift couch in the tent. Hermione was sitting with her back against the armrest, her legs outstretched on your lap.

You had been flipping through a book in silence before a sudden realisation washed over you.

“Hang on– did Harry have the sword with him in the chamber of secrets?” You asked.

Hermione’s eyebrows knitted together before she responded.

“Yeah. That’s how he killed the basilisk.”

“You told me once he destroyed the diary with a basilisk fang?”

Hermione nods still not following your train of thought.

“Merlin’s beard.” You gasp.

“What?”

You handed the book you were reading to Hermione, pointing at a specific line on the page.

“Dirt and rust have no effect on the blade. The sword of Gryffindor only takes it in, which makes it stronger.”

She reads aloud.

“That’s why–”

“Dumbledore left it to him in his will.” She finishes your sentence for you.

You smile broadly and Hermione reciprocates.

“We find the sword and we can destroy those hocruxes, Hermione.”

“We need to tell Harry.”

You attempt to stand up, pushing her legs off your lap but she swiftly pins you down with a hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk to Harry right now.”

**

Hermione moves to straddle you. Her core flush against your groin. Your hands move to her waist, holding her in place.

“No? What do you feel like doing instead?”

The tone of your voice matching the look Hermione is giving you.

She gives you no verbal response instead she leaned in, kissing you with unrestrained hunger.

Her tongue entering your mouth almost instantly, the heat stirring in the pit of your stomach only grows hotter when you feel Hermione grinding against your lap.

Your hands quickly finds the hem of her shirt, Hermione lifts up her arms allowing you to take it off her.

You trailed wet open mouthed kisses, starting at her jaw then her neck and eventually settling at her chest.

Wasting no time in taking her nipples into your mouth.

Hermione grips a handful of your hair as she lets out a moan.

Her hips moving harder against you. The warmth emanating from her core was driving you insane.

“Take this off.” You practically growled as you tugged at her sweatpants.

Hermione obeys without question immediately getting off you to take her pants off.

You quickly removed your own shirt, along with your slacks.

You were undressed in record time, clearly a result of being away from Hermione for three weeks.

Hermione is back on your lap, crashing her lips against yours. She kisses you hungrily, all teeth, tongue and aggression.

You move to lift her up but she pins you down again.

You watched as she grabs her wand, only registering what she was about to do when she waves it over your groin.

The familiar flesh coloured shaft forming, your breath catches in your throat.

Hermione holds your gaze as she lifts her hand up to her mouth gathering her own saliva in her palm.

Bringing her hand back down she strokes your shaft with dexterity.

Leaning back, you let out a groan. Shocked at how good her hand felt.

“Fuck, Hermione–”

Your girlfriend quickly silences you by lowering herself onto you.

The feeling of her cunt around your shaft made you dizzy.

She felt so good.

Something about the spell Hermione used this time that made you more sensitive, or perhaps it was your involuntarily abstinence. You couldn’t say for sure.

Hermione moves against you again and you let out an unrestrained moan.

She quickly places a hand over your mouth. Pursing her own lips, your girlfriend's trying her best not to scream out in pleasure herself.

“Quiet. They’ll hear you.” Hermione scolds, removing her hand from your mouth. She moves to grip the back of your neck.

You winced at the feeling of her nails digging into your skin but you are quickly distracted by Hermione’s hips moving again.

Repeatedly lifting herself up until only the tip of your strap was inside before moving back down onto it harshly.

She is fucking herself with abandon, using your cock for her own pleasure. It was selfish and unbelievably sexy.

Hermione had her eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip in between her teeth. She is trying so hard to stay silent.

You didn’t like it.

“Let them hear you, gorgeous. You sound so pretty when you cum.”

You whisper against her ear as your hands finding her breasts, kneading them.

You feel her move against your harder, you let out another moan which is quickly followed by hers.

Hermione moans out loud at every movement of her own hips and you smile triumphantly.

Your feel her clench painfully against your shaft. Her movements now inconsistent and messy, she was close.

Bringing your hand down you rubbed at her clit with your thumb. It didn’t take much for Hermione to come completely undone. She throws her head back, writhing and panting as the intense pleasure rips through her.

The sight of Hermione naked on top of you with her back arched accompanied with the feeling of you inside her was enough to make you reach your own release.

Her arms move to wrap around your neck, you held her as you both tried to recover.

“Do you think they heard us?” You joked and Hermione let’s out a breathless chuckle.

“That’s not funny. Now we’ll have to deal with Ron’s passive aggressiveness for the next few days.”

“Ah, that’s right the damage has been done. So there’s no harm in going for round two?”

You ask with no intention of waiting for an answer. You moved Hermione so that you were on top and she was laying down on the couch.

Not easing into it as you normally do, you thrust your hips harshly.

Hermione chokes out a moan in surprise, her hands moving to your back as you rutted into her.

Your girlfriend arches her back and you push her down roughly, holding her in place.

The whine that spills out of her lips only urged you to thrust deeper.

“Do you love me?” You asked, planting a kiss on her collarbone.

Hermione’s lost. She groans and you feel her clench against your shaft. You breathed in deeply suppressing your own orgasm.

“You know I love you.” Hermione barely manages to speak the sentence, she moans it.

Your hand moving to grip her throat you squeezed at it experimentally and watched as your girlfriend’s eyes roll to the back of her head.

Her hand reflexively moving to your neck pulling you lower, you had no choice but to lay your entire weight on her, causing you to push into her deeper.

Hermione moans loudly, reaching her sudden climax. You hadn’t anticipated it this time and from the looks of it neither did she.

She’s now moaning and trembling underneath you. The aftershocks of her orgasm taking its time to wear off.

She looked so breath-taking like this, you were convinced you could watch her forever.

**

════════════════════════════════════════════

You were both in bed now, Hermione’s resting her head against your chest as you rubbed small circles against her shoulder absentmindedly.

“I have a hunch but I’m not entirely sure I’m right.”

You blurt out unsure if your girlfriend was still awake to hear you.

“What sort of hunch?”

“I overheard Bellatrix speaking to her sister, she was losing her mind over one of the other death eaters entering her vault without her permission.”

Hermione hums in response and you elaborate.

“From what I’ve noticed, for some odd reason the Dark Lord trusts her the most. I bet anything the most likely place he’d hide a hocrux would be her vault.”

Hermione sits up to look at you. Already giving you a warning look before you could continue.

“If I can just get in there without her knowing–”

“Oh absolutely not.” Hermione interjects right away and you’re not shocked.

It was worth a shot.

“She’s a cold blooded killer y/n. I don’t even want to think about what she’d do to you if you broke into her vault and did get caught.”

“My answer is no. We’ll find another way.”

#hermione granger #hermione x reader #slytherin au #harry potter #harry x hermione #hermione granger x reader #hermione granger smut