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Chapter Drop: Leaking Spark, ch 10

New chapter dropped! :3

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poe dameron x reader

summary: your position as resource agent isn't high on the christmas card list for most, but you take it seriously. As seriously as you can, while still having to scold grown men for their....antics.

@brighterthanlonelywords REMEMBER THIS THING WE TALKED ABOUT IDK IF YOU DO BUT I SWEAR I DIDN'T FORGET!! in my poe dameron post like three weeks ago lmao you gave me this idea

content: sexual innuendos, pining, flirting, banter, angst...it's a poe fic like you know why ur here

there is a brief scene where reader is harrassed, it isn't sexual or anything dw

reader is afab, described w braidable hair, texture not described/racially ambiguous

You'd taken the job for the scenery. Being from Kamino, you hadn't seen much farther than your window, let alone anything other than rain. Your parents had told you stories of the skies, promising to leave the soggy planet. In the end, you escaped on a ragtag Rebel ship recruiting pilots. Immediately upon landing at the lush landscape of D'Qar, you'd known it was the right choice. The view floored you every time.

But nothing could compensate for the amount of utter bullshit you experienced as a resource agent.

So...you decided to do barrel rolls in an unregistered X-Wing?

Uh, yeah.

Without a helmet or a pilot's license?

uhhh....

You were the epitome of a short fuse. Resource agents were essentially the Resistance's HR team. Strange, because absolutely nothing about the Resistance followed 'protocol', but you supposed there needed to be some kind of discipline in place.

No, your crew wasn't making many friends in the Res, nor were you the most celebrated, but somebody had to do it.

Though, you wished it was somebody else.

Mind melting to a thoughtless mush as you listened to a cadet stumble over excuses, you flicked through the remaining meetings scheduled.

Team training, team training, briefing with Organa....fuckkkk.

Your favorite piece of shit, Poe Dameron, had another protocol screening set for his next mission. You gotta be kidding me.

Normally, pilots had a protocol training at the beginning of their enlistment and then once every six months. It was long and tedious; going through safety maneuvers and briefing procedure to make sure everything was up to date. But, because Dameron was special and liked to play by his own rules, General Organa had started mandating his for every mission.

Which meant three hours out of your day because somebody didn't read the Terms and Conditions.

This is such bullshit.

Schooling your expression into neutrality as the bumbling cadet finished his story, you tried to stop your fingers from crushing the tablet in your hands.

Being the equivalent of a galactic HR meant that you weren't gonna be on anybody's Christmas list. Yeah, the job was tedious, but you weren't good enough at plying to be a pilot and couldn't fix a droid to save your life, so you used your skills to help in the way you could.

You were here to stop a war, not make friends.

You could feel Dameron before you saw him. The ego that shone like a halo around him was sparkling like a disco ball as he loudly bantered with his crewmates. General Organa had already arrived, and shot you an amused glance as you rubbed your temples.

Inside voice, Dameron, for the love of Hoth.

"Evening, Commander," you said briskly, gesturing towards the prep room doors, "you know where to start."

He made eye contact and grinned. "Right to business, I like it. Cute hair, sweetheart," he added smoothly. You bit back a frown and followed Organa into the small briefing station. Initially you'd been excited to wear your new braids, but his incessant flirting dampened your pride.

"Flirting with an HR officer is awfully brave of you," you fired back.

"I like a challenge." His smirk sparkled in the low light.

General Organa, used to your bickering, waved at the holo above the console.

"This mission is simple, Dameron, a recon on the Mid Rim. You'll be out there for around two standard days. You are required to check in every twelve hours, and return with the information here," she explained, highlighting a small map underneath the mission summary. Dameron leaned forward, brow set.

"A map....of Abelor? That's a spice trade port, General, why does the Resistance need to be involved?" His confusion mirrored your own. Organa held up a hand, continuing.

"There have been rumors that First Order informants are using the spice port to smuggle information planet-to-planet without needing to go through protocol checks. This is merely a recon to stake out the area. You'll be meeting with an ally, Rhett Mosley." A lanky man popped up next to the summary. He was mostly covered in tribal tattoos, and a pair of thick goggles hid most of his face.

Poe nodded, copying the info on his personal tablet.

"Any questions?"

At his subtle shake of the head, she gestured to you and bowed. "Continue with the protocol, ten hours until takeoff."

You both murmured a farewell and she left with a swish of her cloak. For a moment, Poe was suspended in his own head, gaze distant and stricken. Awkwardly, you shuffled around, hoping to rouse him.

He snapped out of it, and his trademark grin spread across his face. "Just you and me now, sweetheart," he said, bumping your shoulder.

"Just get in the fucking X-Wing."

You sat by, bored as Poe droned about the processes in his ship. He knew the steps, you knew he knew the steps, but because of this stupid loophole in the system, you both had to sit here for another hour.

"Maker- look, Dameron," you sighed, scrubbing your hand over your face, "I know that you're more than capable of doing this mission. I'll sign all your papers, I just want this to be over."

He paused in the middle of showing you the intricate seamwork on the inside of his security belt. A mock look of abhorrence crossed his face.

"What! You wound me, baby. I thought you loved our time together," he bemoaned, batting his dark lashes.

Your filter was slowly coming loose. "Yes, how could I forget, Dameron, how enjoyable it is to listen to your terrible pick-up lines while you bullshit your way through a protocol exam?"

This earned a small chuckle. To your dismay, a small part of your ego preened at the sound. You liked making people laugh. And if Commander Dameron happened to be the one laughing....well, that was okay too.

"No it's not," you snapped. You hated him. This was-

"What? Yes it is, I just showed you." Poe was looking at you, head tilted in confusion. You blushed, realizing you'd said that out loud.

"Right. Er...sorry, Commander, continue. I didn't...nevermind," you muttered, willing your cheeks to stop flaming. He wiggled his brows at you again.

"Feeling a little hot and bothered, Lieutenant?" Poe grinned, the pink tip of his tongue poking out. You scowled at your feet. Since childhood, your cheeks flamed like hell at the slightest embarrassment.

"That's alright," he continued his conversation, "I know I have that effect on people. Sorry to inconvenience you, honey, I know you still think you hate me."

You aggressively signed off on his report, shoving him the document and wiping the growing smile off your face.

"Good luck, Commander, you're cleared for takeoff."

"Can I get a goodbye kiss?" he called after you.

The mission, by all accounts, was a resounding success. You didn't care; still riding the high of being Dameron-free for at least a few days. The base had been, to nobody's surprise, remarkably calm and quiet for the weekend.

But, like clockwork, our favorite flyboy was marched into your office at 7 sharp, sporting a black eye and a toothy grin. His droid, a cute BB unit, was beeping frantically, occasionally rolling into his feet.

You looked up from your caf, unamused.

"Early bird gets the right hook, I see," you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face.

"Left, actually," he said sheepishly, rocking on his heels. The corrections officer that led him in rolled her eyes, snapping a salute and walking off.

"Dameron, we've had this conversation too many times for me to pretend like you didn't deserve it."

As if on cue, he threw himself across from your desk, hands folded. "No, no, listen," he wheedled, "look, it's a long story, and I wasn't trying to start anything, swear-"

"BB-8, recent log information, please," you asked crisply. Poe shot his friend a desperate look.

"Beebs," he hissed, "come on, stick with me on this one, dude!" BB-8 blinked, then rolled over to you and stuck out his little thumb drive.

You thanked him, kindly patting his tummy. Preening, the little droid circled his pilot friend tauntingly. Poe glared balefully. "I give you tummy rubs too," he grumbled.

A grainy camera feed pulled up. Dameron and another pilot, clearly drunk, were getting heated over something you couldn't make out. Truthfully, the other guy swung first, but Poe was not clear of fault.

"You slapped him with a plate," you deadpanned, rewinding to watch it again. Poe rubbed his neck.

"Well, yeah, but..." he trailed off, searching for a good excuse.

"I do recognize that he punched first, but you still antagonized him. I'll send you to my advisor and they'll do a case review for you." Eager to get on with your morning and shove Poe off your desk, you waved at him to leave.

His lower lip pushed out. Goddamn the puppy eyes, I swear to Maker.

"But why won't you clear it for me?" His voice was small, pleading. Beebs, clearly unamused, thumped against Poe's knee.

"I don't have the authority."

"But...wait, wait. I could take you by the cantina and you could ask the people that were there, and maybe...I'll buy you a drink, and we can chat for-"

"Dameron," you said again, tone gentler. "I'm sorry. But I'd lose my job."

"I've heard my company is worth it," he winked, then winced, for he'd winked with his bruised eye. BB-8 booped wearily. You felt for the little guy. Opening a desk drawer, you pulled out a small tube of varnish and gave the droid a shine for his efforts.

"Stop pampering my droid and pay attention to me," Poe complained, "he'll start picking favorites."

You sighed, looking at the pilot with a tired expression. Even though he gave you trouble, Poe was a good pilot and a good friend. He teased and flirted and drove you up the wall, but he was a good guy. You didn't want his record to be tainted, he wouldn't come around anymore.

Woah, where did that come from?

"Poe," you said slowly. He noticeably brightened at his name, putting as much into his smile as you'd ever seen. "I cannot clear you from this...event. However, if you write a written apology and an explanation I can...forget it."

He threw his arms around your shoulders and crowed in success. BB-8 whirred in surprise. You didn't lean into the embrace, too shocked to do anything. He smelled...nice. Like metal and cinnamon.

"Thanks, honey," he whispered, "I owe you one." Pulling away, he poked BB-8 in in the tummy and smirked.

"Told you she'd listen," he whispered smugly. As he whistled and strolled off, a faint blush dotted your cheeks.

He really was a sweetheart.

Night time was your favorite on base. It was quiet, solitary. Walking past the housing on your nightly check, you smiled at the sounds of muffled laughter coming from the bunks. It was like a family. Dysfunctional, yeah, but it was home.

It had been a long day. You had two hallways to go before you could collapse in your own bed. Tomorrow was your day off - you could finally sleep in.

You were playing with the zipper on your jacket as you rounded the corner.

A solid block of person collided with your cheek. Stumbling, you caught yourself on the wall.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to-"

An unfamiliar scowl glowered down at you. Your apology trailed off. This guy was huge, probably six feet tall and heavyset. His face looked familiar, what with the sharp cut across the bridge of his nose.

Oh. This was the guy Poe had been tussling with.

"Sorry, sir, I need to get by," you said, shaken from the impact. He didn't move. Thompson was printed on his breast pocket, with a green insignia. Green Squadron.

"Heard you had something to do with this," he snarled, jabbing a thumb at his rank. Suspended.

"I..." a rush of panic swelled inside you. This is why you didn't play favorites. You buckled one time and now this guy was gonna wreck your shit. Fucking Dameron, shit shit shit-

"I..I didn't do your intake," you stammered, balking at his imposing figure. "It wasn't my case-"

"No, but pretty boy gets to fly tomorrow, and guess who took his?" Thompson was seething, eyes narrowed to slits. You were amazed that Poe had the balls to smash a plate on this guy. You wanted to curl up and cry.

Help. Help. Somebody help me oh my god I'm going to die.

There were rows of doors on either side of you. You could knock on any of them, but he'd surely grab you before you made it. If you screamed, maybe somebody would-

Stars and pain exploded and you were catapulted backwards, crumpling against the doorhandle. The wind had been knocked out of you so sharply not even a gasp had escaped your lips. Choking and heaving, you scrambled backwards. Pain was everywhere. You weren't sure where he'd hit you.

I'm going to die.

Thompson sneered down at you, making a grab for your collar. Desperately, you scratched at his face, tearing open his smashed nose. The reopened wound gushed, sticky red trickling down your fingers and into his raging mouth. You gagged, but quickly cowered as he swung again at your face.

His fist smashed against the door, and you mentally apologized to whoever was trying to sleep. Air was becoming harder to swallow, and you realized his hand was twisting your shirt too tight around your throat.

uh oh uh oh fuck you sputtered and gasped and tried to smack him off, but he grabbed your wrists

fuck-

You fell backwards; rolling out of his grasp and into a dark room. Something yanked your shoulders backwards and you were shoved into darkness. Finally able to suck in a breath, a bloodcurdling shriek ripped from your bruised throat.

A large hand clapped over your lips. You wailed louder, trying to escape the sweaty palm.

stop it stop it HELP stop stop SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP

A ringing in your ear, punctuated by a loud male voice.

"Stop it," he hissed, removing his hand from your mouth. You panted and struggled against the forearms bracing your stomach. The first punch had landed on your sternum, and the entirety of your torso was screaming in pain.

"Hurts," you whimpered, trying to shove away. The man let go and you collapsed forward, gagging from the pain. A small night light glowed in the corner of the room, highlighting a familiar mop of curls.

"Poe," you wheezed, sitting up against the door. A muffled commotion could be heard outside - likely your fellow officers finally detaining the rogue Green pilot.

He nodded, wiping his brow. Grabbing the light from his desk, he brought it over to look at you. The warm light added a softer glaze to his eyes. He looked bleary. You'd probably woken him up.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, gently coming to sit next to you. You sniffled, still shaking.

"Don't move," he whispered, free hand coming up to carefully inspect your face. You didn't look at him, ashamed to be in this state. The light he was holding was for a child - shaped like a small cartoon Bantha. Cute, you thought listlessly.

Trembling, you could still feel Thompson's hands around your throat. You choked again, throat constricting around nothing. Fear still pierced your bones, and you folded forwards, sobbing into your knees.

Poe, surprised, swore and set the light down. His hands fluttered over your back, unsure of where it was okay to touch. He settled for your hair, petting the plaits gently as you cried.

The sounds outside had long quieted before you ran out of tears. A cold bottle was pressed into your hands. Cool water trickled down your throat. You swallowed gratefully. The room, still dark, brightened again as Poe flicked on another night-light.

Your lower lip was trembling, this time with embarrassment. You could feel Poe's concerned gaze tracing your face.

"You need to go to the medbay?" His gravelly, sleep-warm voice was quiet, hand still running over your hair.

You shook your head.

"Anything broken?"

Feeling around your ribs, you winced. Bruised, nothing broken. Again, you shook your head, clutching your water.

Poe nodded, scooting to sit next to you. You sat together, slowly coming down from the cortisol spike. Your limbs still shook, heartrate erratic against your aching chest.

"You're okay in here," Poe murmured, "Thompson may be strong, but he can't break through doors." You shivered, ducking your head into his shoulder. He understood, falling quiet again

Your throat was raw, and bruises pulsed under your skin. Eye contact was impossible, the embarrassment forcing your eyes down. You looked like a wreck - hair falling loose and bruises littering your body. The spot on the back of your head throbbed from the impact with the door.

Poe's fingers traced lightly, and you whimpered when they hit the sore spot. He retracted his hand quickly, apologizing rapidly.

"Hang on, hang on." His warm shoulder disappeared, and you sniffled at the loss. He returned a moment later with an ice pack, which he gently settled on the back of your head. The cold was soothing.

"I'm sorry," he said, gaze mournful. "This is kinda my fault, isn't it."

You squinted at him in the low light. "What?" Your voice was raspy.

"I made you get him in trouble, right? If I hadn't..." he gestured off towards your office, "y'know, then...well, you'd probably be on Thomspon's nice list."

You huffed a dejected laugh. "No, it's-" you cleared your throat, taking another sip of water. "it's okay." It wasn't, not really, but you didn't have the energy to be mad.

"I see why you don't play favorites," Poe said, smiling sadly. You gave him a half smile.

A soft beep came from your left and you turned. BB was tilted questioningly, large eye blinking.

"Hey, beebs," you whispered, reaching out to poke his antennae. He whirred and nudged your hand. "I'll be okay, it's just a couple bruises."

Your mind was still reeling. Poe scratched his friend's tummy then turned back to you.

"Why don't you stay here for tonight?" His eyes were genuine and concerned. You looked at him wearily. His hair was ruffled and cheeks flushed from sleep. Cute.

What?

"I won't try anything, promise," he reassured, hands raised placatingly. "I just don't want you walking around like this."

You swallowed and nodded. Poe took the water and the ice pack, setting them nearby. He hooked his arms under your shoulders and lifted you gently, stabilizing you when you swayed.

"You should really get checked out," he said, frowning."

"It's okay," you rushed, stumbling back. Poe grabbed your elbow to keep you from falling.

"It's okay to need help, you know. Nobody's gonna get mad." His eyes were gentle. Your lip trembled again, and you tried to pull away. Instead, Poe pulled you into a hug.

Your sob was muffled against his sleep shirt. He shushed you, hands tracing warm circles over your back. It's okay. It's okay. You'll be okay. Don't worry.

He really did smell good, you thought groggily. Cinnamon was comforting, and you started to sag in his arms. Poe carefully laid you on the lower bunk, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

"Which do you want?" He asked, pointing to the wall. Fighting to keep your eyes open, you blinked.

"Huh?"

"Which night light? I have a bantha and R2-D2."

At your blank stare, he blushed sheepishly. "I'm scared of the dark."

You snorted and pointed to the Bantha. Poe nodded, "a respectable choice," and placed the little light next to your pillow.

He sat at the foot of your bed, pulling out a tablet. You watched him, eyes growing heavy, as he pulled up a muted holovid, his hand stroking gently on your calf. Sleep came swiftly, and you drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

You woke at noon, shuffling under a thick warmth. A familiar warm smell curled around you like a blanket. Blinking blearily, a black mass of curly hair was crammed into your shoulder. Poe's head was three inches from your chin, and he was snoring like a bear. He was laying on top of the blanets, hand fisted over your chest. He reminded you of an infant, snuggled against any source of warmth.

Ignoring the ache in your chest, you petted his head and drifted back off.

join my taglist if you want, just comment or message me! it didn't mean to become so angsty lol idk what happened

xox bye bye

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Reader Characters: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Arihnda Pryce, Alexsandr Kallus, Hera Syndulla, Wullf Yularen, Wilhuff Tarkin, Kanan Jarrus, Ezra Bridger, Sabine Wren, Stormtrooper Character(s), Original Imperial Characters (Star Wars), Original Rebel Alliance Characters (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Dominant Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Sex, gender neutral reader, Kidnapping, Rough Kissing, Sparring, Unknown Regions (Star Wars), Secret Relationship, Secret Marriage, Wild Space (Star Wars), Running Away, Imperial Officers (Star Wars), First Love, Falling In Love, Star Wars: Rebels References, Star Wars: Rebels Spoilers, Rebels, Bad Parenting, Terrorists, Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo Needs a Hug, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Neck Kissing, Biting, Broken Promises, Serious Injuries, Minor Character Death, Near Death Experiences Summary:

This story is about a Gender Neutral reader who ends up with none other than Grand Admiral Thrawn. Their journey is an interesting one.

SX Seoul Series | Jungkook Entry 💜 Bubbles (Part 1)

PAIRING: Jungkook/Reader

SUMMARY: You're back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes.

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: exes, explicit sexual content, in public, oral, slight degradation and rough cause you are both hurt

PARTS: [1] [2]

(You can also read it on AO3)

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You smiled at the bouncer on your way inside the club and brushed a strand of dark hair behind your ear. Your group called you to follow as you got lost looking around the newest club in Itaewon. It was purposefully dark with red neon lights in wavy lines flowing in the direction of the dance floor but not before a huge sign with black and white stripes coaxed your attention with promises expanding over the several floors: SX.

“Come along.”

You smiled at your best friend and followed her and her friends to a reserved club area not too far from the bar. The Tech House music was making your ribcage hum comfortably and you sat on a couch before she turned to you again.

“I know the bartender on our side tonight! I’ll go say hi for a second!”

You nodded and watched her go as you took the space around you comfortably. The other girls were chatting, cross-checking who was there tonight and who they knew. You were used to hanging with girls like them — fun and wild at parties and clubs. You didn’t know them because you’d been away for a while, but you trusted your dearest friend to keep good company around.

Either way, you were there to have fun and enjoy being back home. You took a deep breath, the familiar scent of sweat and alcohol latching itself onto your skin before you even contemplated dancing. Everyone else was already doing it, flowing like a perfect wave in that crowd and you’d join them soon enough.

The lights were flashing all around to the generous beat making you tap your foot, and you contemplated getting up without waiting for your best friend when you saw him. Fully dressed in black in a way that avoided light and dancing so closely with a girl your guts burned with furious jealousy.

“Right? I’ve heard about him,” a girl gushed to your right. “He’s very hot.”

“You’re joking, look at that sleeve,” another one replied and your eyes immediately traced his arm. It was fuller now. “I wanna ride that bad.”

“Do you think he has other tattoos?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” one answered and they all giggled and laughed around. Your eyes never diverted from him or the way he was dancing with that girl, firm hands gripping her waist over a sparkly deeply cleavaged top.

“But you know, I’ve heard he fucks without kissing. Without even acknowledging you.”

Finally, your eyes turned to the girl sharing all the gossip and you wondered how she knew that.

“First-hand experience?” You asked with a teasing smile, just making conversation. They didn’t have to know how truly interested you were in knowing.

“No,” the other girls turned to hear more and you could see they were all charmed by the picture the girl was conjuring. “Not my kind of thing.”

The other girls teased her reply for a moment while you paid them little mind.

“Yeah, right. Look at him,” another one laughed openly. 

“He’s fucking sexy and has this cute smile,” one said almost wantonly. She was possibly voicing everyone else’s thoughts. “Face it, who wouldn’t want to touch those curls?”

“He can get any girl on her knees.”

“And a bad boy? Get serious. We’d all be lining up.”

“What if he changes?”

“What if we’re the one?”

They all giggled except you, starting to regret not having a drink in your hand.

“Guys like him don’t change.”

“Actually,” the girl with the gossip leaned forward. “Rumour is he was in a committed relationship and that when she dumped him, he did a one-eighty and never dated seriously again.”

Your friend neared you all with a tray of shots and a wide grin, “Who’s not dating seriously?”

“Whoa, what a bitch,” one replied, leaning forward to grab a glass.

“Who would waste that?”

“If I could tap that, I’d hook him around my little finger.”

Your best friend looked at you quizzically and you just twitched the corners of your mouth. You grabbed a shot glass as well while the gossip girl explained everything to your best friend. In an instant, her eyes shot to yours but you were purposefully avoidant.

“What’s his name anyway?” One of them asked, turning her back so they could toast.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

Your eyes immediately fell back on him and you ignored your friend’s worried looks. You cheered with the girls to a good and steamy night and drank the shot without much thought. It burned on its way down, but you were already burning from before, so no biggy. Who cared who he danced with, you were there to have fun too.

Your best friend called your name with a tinge of worry and all you did was smile, “I’ll go grab another round.”

You got up and adjusted your short strapless dress to make sure it covered your ass before trying to get in between the crowd to reach the bar. You didn’t have to go that far, but you couldn’t control your curiosity. As you moved in closer, you could see how he seemed taller, more built, and so buff. He had let his hair grow longer and it curled wildly around his ears, giving him an edge you found yourself liking a lot. Your lower belly was tingling already as you eyed him with hunger, especially those firm hands.

You were so hot that you were sweaty and by the time you leaned against the bar, you finally noticed something wasn’t right. The girl he was with was waving something small and flat between two fingers that she hid very quickly, and whatever it was got him angry. You knew that disgusted lip pull, and it made you smile.

He turned away from the girl and you instantly faced the bar, giving the whole scene your back. You were curious, hot, and bothered by the mere fact that he was there, that you got to see him, that there was a possibility that you would talk. It had been a while. You shouldn’t be curious, but the tingly sensation down your stomach wasn’t interested in shouldn’ts.

It was then and there that you almost took a deep breath and committed to not look his way the rest of the night. Your curiosity shouldn’t be enough, the girls gossiped way too much so you had all the information you could need, and there was really no need for your paths to intersect.

But fate wouldn’t have you choose that road tonight, it would seem. You turned to the side, curious as to where he would be, and you smiled. There were only two people in between you and an outstretched arm with a full sleeve over the bar counter. He was too close to be ignored, and you just couldn’t.

You made your way to him and luckily the two people between you had just gotten their drinks and were ready to leave. Jungkook didn’t notice you getting near because the bartender was listening to his order and you just leaned on the bar counter by his side.

“Order for me too, will you?”

He turned to you and his face was worth a million words. His lips parted to make way for air, but he wasn’t breathing, and that was when you noticed the lip ring. His skin was perfectly immaculate, the sweetness you’d recognize anywhere in the tender swell of his cheeks. Higher, his normally lovely eyes were wide in shock as he took in your presence. His eyebrows twitched and you noticed another piercing, which along with the new ones on his lip made you smile as you leaned to support your head on your hand. He was still figuring out if you were a ghost while you were in wonderland, wondering what had happened to all that sweetness.

“Here you go,” the bartender placed a whiskey cola on the counter and you turned quickly before Jungkook could react.

“Can you get me one too, please?”

You were already waving your credit card and the bartender acquiesced without wasting a beat.

It was the moment Jungkook needed to grab his drink and shug half of it like he was dying of thirst. Or maybe he just really needed a drink after seeing you.

“Thirsty are we?” You asked, reaching for the glass from his hand and taking a couple of sips while never breaking away from his darkened eyes. The ice-cold drink had you blinking for a second, thankful for the refreshing sensation down your chest. “You always liked them sweet.”

You placed his glass near his hand again before turning to smile at the bartender retourning with your card and your drink.

“You’re here.”

It wasn’t a question and if you weren’t interested in reading his lips, you might have missed it. So you smiled, letting the nostalgia fill you up in a nice kind of way. You had missed the little twitches of his lips while he mused or the way he scratched his nose bridge softly when he was embarrassed or at a loss.

“I am. How are you?”

His eyes were focused on the drink and he scoffed at your question, reaching to drink the rest of it. That was the first time you doubted this could end well. There was a bitterness in his features that dragged yours out of the deepest corners of you where you wished it would remain buried.

“Why are you here?”

Your lips twitched, “New club in Seoul.”

He sneered, “There were many new clubs in Seoul over the last year. Never crossed you before.”

“You know I wasn’t here.”

Your eyes locked and yours had all the meaning they could have. You weren’t in Seoul, so you couldn’t have crossed ways before. But you were here now.

He looked down and licked his lower lip while kicking the bar pensively. You let him process the fact that you were there in the flesh while you drank. When he looked up at you again, you caught his eyes and passed him your drink. He took a second but he grabbed it, turning to the bar to down it while you leaned into his ear.

“Dance with me.”

He looked out of the corner of his eye at you and you pulled back, waiting. You weren’t as crazy as anyone could assume, you knew the options. He could outright laugh in your face and move away like you were a plague, and it would hurt, but you would understand. 

You kept your eyes locked on his, riding that heartbeat as you waited. You also knew that he could take you up on that offer, dance with you, and who knew what else. And it wasn’t as much as for the mystery, or a challenge, or anything of the like. You didn’t want him for any of those vain reasons. You wanted so much more.

He gave you a short nod and placed your empty glass next to his, with only the ice left. You gave him a cheeky smile before turning to go deeper into the crowd, far away and in the middle so that your best friend wouldn’t see you and advise you to be wise and think twice. What could you tell her; the moment fate challenged you with the chance of meeting him, you instantly lost.

You never turned back to check if he was following, you just assumed he did. You stopped with the flashing lights, sweating bodies, and thrumming music all around you, and you closed your eyes. You wanted his hands on you, his arms around you, his waist so close you’d be indistinguishable. You craved his presence, slick pooling at the thought of it alone.

So when two firm hands grabbed your waist and pulled you back flush against a firm chest, snaking arms holding your stomach and going up your sternum like they owned you, all you could do was freefall into him, releasing a moan that you knew he could have never heard, but he surely felt.

He hid his nose in your hair, lulling you two to the beat, and you melted against him. He was always a good dancer, the way he rolled his hips to guide yours reminding you of far sweeter times. His hand reached your chest and rested there, and you thanked the dark, the loud music, the crowd, the alcohol, the moment. It was in those moments that the deepest desires came out, hiddenly safely away. Only the two of you knew: how he was brushing his nose and lips on your neck, and how you were grabbing his arms to close around you tighter.

“When did you come back?” His lips were so close to your ear that a wave of shivers ran down your neck.

“Two days ago.”

His arms around you had you losing yourself further and further. You couldn’t care less what the music was or where you were. All you wanted was that chance and you were greedy.

“Are you alone?”

You sank your nails into his skin, “Youngjoo is here.” He didn’t react but you knew he would remember your best friend. “Are you?”

You forced the words out of you. You almost didn’t want to know, especially after what the girls were gossiping about. Maybe they were wrong and he was dating someone seriously. But then he would have never been dancing with that girl before, so maybe the rumors were true. And on that end, you had very mixed feelings.

He didn’t answer but he didn’t move away either. You loved everything as it was: every inch of his skin glued to yours, his lips ghosting your neck, his hands seconds away from groping you and making you beg.

But eventually, you needed more. You needed an answer. You’d beg, gladly, but not if he had his thoughts on someone else.

So you turned in his arms, the short dress allowing you to easily glue your bodies together as you hid near his ear. “Answer me,” you cooed, brushing his neck with your fingers until you were embracing and grazing his scalp with your nails. You leaned the side of your face on him, his sweat not bothering you for an instant. It reminded you of what it was like to feel him that close while on his lap. When he would fuck into you, sweetly and strongly until every breath was a moany whimper, and you buried your fingers just like that to keep him close. His delectable scent would invade you then and envelope you tightly in everything Jungkook-related until all there was left was his coarse words tensing the coil in your—

He breathed near your ear and you lost your breath, sighing instantly after when he said nothing.

“Answer me,” you asked again. This time you nuzzled his ear and pressed yourself even closer, “Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you’re by yourself, that you have no plans, no one waiting at home, nothing stopping you from doing this,” you let out all your deepest desires, carried out by the close and delirious moment. 

His hand was pressing up your spine and nape as you spoke until it latched onto your hair but it didn’t pull you away. You had moved by yourself to be as close as you could, breaths fanning each other’s faces as you waited for his reply. 

You waited and longed, and tried not to rub your body flush against that familiar warmth that you were craving like the air you breathed. Unmistakably, your body betrayed you by leaning closer and closer until your noses grazed briefly, and that was when you felt the pull. His hand pulled your head back by your hair and you opened your glistening eyes, teeth deep into your lower lip with utmost desire, only to find his dark eyes and rigid expression. And that was enough to shake you and put out in the open everything you wished had stayed hidden: he was angry.

Suddenly, you remembered very well the last time you saw him. How much it hurt him, and you. How much of a coward you had been. How much you didn’t deserve a drop of his attention, let alone his time, touch, or warmth. 

He let you go slowly as memories you thought no longer haunted you came rushing back, making you swallow a lump. And you smiled, because how could you not? He was angry, so very clearly, and you deserved it.

Your bodies were finally separated and despite the happiness in your chest at having had the chance to see him, your knees were weak and your legs wobbly. You couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” you voiced, hoping that your expression conveyed how much you meant those words. For now. For before.

And you turned to leave with a deep breath. Were you running away? Yes. In a way, from the anger you created in him and the regret in yourself. From the chance of being rejected head-on, which you knew you had coming but you had never been the brave kind, so you couldn’t face it. You could even agree he deserved to have the pleasure, but you were far too selfish to let him have it. No. You’d remain the bitch who dumped him and couldn’t face the consequences, which was exactly why you were leaving. 

It was chilly outside but it didn’t matter, you were too hot from all the emotions — the excitement and the shame and regret. You stepped to the street where you knew that among the cars stopping and passing you’d eventually catch a taxi dropping people off and took out your phone to text your best friend that you were leaving.

You had just hit send when someone grabbed your arm and you offered resistance, ready to fight whoever dared to try to grab you and—

Familiar dark eyes faced you back and you instantly let your body fall to his chest. His jawline was still firm as he clenched it, angry eyes stiffening his face, but you still let yourself get drawn in like a magnet to a polar opposite. You knew he was mad, knew he had reasons to hate you, despise you, treat you worse than the girls he fucked without kissing or acknowledging, but fuck were you—

He stepped back and dragged you along and you offered no resistance. You had no idea where he was taking you as he walked you down the street tightly by the arm, hiding his grip between you as you walked. You looked up at him, ignoring if you’d trip and fall with such high heels. He looked angry, and you cursed yourself for thinking it looked hot as hell on him. 

He pulled you into a dimly lit back alley that led to a residential area and stopped you just behind a hidden corner covered by a parked car. Your back hit the wall and you looked up at him while grabbing the chain strap of your bag over your head so it wouldn’t be in the way. 

That thought repeated itself — he looked hot as hell. You didn’t like that he was angry with you, but that tension on him was sexy as fuck and you wanted to be the one to relax him. To let him take out his frustration on you until he was vulnerable and sweet like you always remembered him.

Those were the thoughts in your mind when you raised your hands to touch him but he slapped them away harshly. You didn’t have time to react about it though because a second later he caged your face in his hands and crashed his mouth to yours, pressing you between him and the wall. 

The cold wall was nothing when you were burning inside out. His mouth was hungry on yours and you paid him back in kind, getting your tongue to meet his just as eagerly. Your hands gripped his shoulders closely while you tried not to let the lightheadedness get you, but it was too late. All you wanted was happening right now, you’d keep kissing him and reaching for him until the end.

His hands lowered to your curves as his lips trailed down your jawline and you moaned when he squeezed your chest harshly. You pulled him closer, you wanted it all, and when he humped his erection to your hip, all you could think to do was beg.

“Yes,” you breathed, feeling how hard he was through both your clothes, from head to base. “Fuck me right now. Please.”

His lips quickly came to yours, if to shut you up or not you couldn’t tell. Either way, he gave you enough space to reach his waist, unbutton his pants and grab his cock firmly. He rutted your hand with wanton groans into your neck, and you felt like the world was yours. If you could have him, then you wouldn’t complain or whine ever again. If that thick cock would stretch you again like you wished so badly, then you’d shut up about everything wrong in this world because absolutely nothing would be wrong ever again.

Maybe he heard your prayers because suddenly he grabbed your hips and tapped them for you to instinctively jump on his lap. You supported yourself on his shoulders while he kissed you and let you play with his lip rings, rolling your tongue over them. Meanwhile, you could feel but not exactly know what he was doing at your waist level in between your two bodies. Only when he put the condom wrap near his mouth so he could rip it open with his teeth did you realize there was a good reason to interrupt your make-out session. 

You let him have his focus while he put it on, lazily brushing your lips over his forehead, right until he searched for your panties only to rudely pull them to the side and push himself inside you almost instantly. You groaned with a hint of a whine at the burn, but soon he made you jump on his lap, piercing his cock fully into you and you let your head fall back. Fuck, had you missed this.

You didn’t have time to let the pleasure reach every corner of you, but your enjoyment was not cut short. His hips snapped into yours and your chin dropped, eyes hooded when you realized that was how you were going to get him. He did it again, grabbing your shoulder and hip into place and the corners of your mouth twitched. You almost smiled before biting your lip as he started a paced rhythm that didn’t give you a second’s rest. 

His angry eyes were on you as the slaps echoed into the night along with your stifled moans until you couldn’t care. Who cared if someone found Jungkook fucking your brains out? You wanted him to, dreamed of it, remembered it, had wished on all your lucky stars you would one day get to feel that way again. And now? Fuck if you cared who caught you. That thick cock ramming into you was the sweetest thing—

He grabbed your hair to pull your face to kiss him and you kept on moaning into his mouth. His tongue didn’t meet the reception he wanted, and you blamed the way he was fucking into you so hard you couldn’t even focus on breathing. Maybe it aggravated him or it just gave him his next idea, but in a second he was kissing down your neck, which had you grabbing his head close so he would keep going.

Suddenly he yanked the upper part of your dress and as it didn’t have stripes, the elastic gave in and let the fabric slide. He did the same on the strapless bra, not stopping his hips for a second, until your chest was out in the open, bouncing with every thrust.

He buried his face between your tits, licking and bitting for a moment in which you knew you were dripping slick down both him and you and you fucking loved it. Your haze was so up in the clouds you couldn’t be bothered to come down until he did something that shook your heart.

He tightened your legs around his waist, leaned in an angle so he could hold you firmly against the wall, and fuck you in a way that rubbed your clit just like you loved it. Instantly, the way he dragged over it and reached deep inside with his cock had you moaning breathlessly. Then he straightened up, carefully perfecting his movements until your mouth was open and you were jumping on his lap with him to the best of your abilities. He knew he had you in the right spot, you were squirming but desperate to stay close, moaning and completely lost, trying to sink your nails into his skin but weak to the sensations leaving you adrift. He reveled in that, with such pride swelling inside him he didn’t know what to do with himself aside from grabbing both your tits and squeezing them harshly.

He felt the way you tensed around his cock and he knew he had you. With every snap of his hips, your eyes closed further, your moans became breathy, and your legs pulled him more in. He knew he could squeeze you to the point it bruised without as much as a whimper, but he stayed clear from doing it, taking pleasure only in the way his cock was so deep inside you that he knew you’d never forget it.

You took your hands to his over your chest and then it hit you that only he could do you like this. Only he knew every little thing that you liked, only he knew how to grope and squeeze without hurting you, only he knew exactly how to fuck you into oblivion every time. Because it was him.

Fuck, it’s him. After so long—

You tried reaching for him, but your hand dropped to his shoulder as you let the orgasm shake you and steal away your inhibitions if there ever were any. You closed your eyes and felt his body press closer to you, almost as if to hide you from the world as you moaned and cursed him for releasing you like this. He fucked you through it, then hid in your neck when it came to his, grunting and holding you tightly. You grinned and petted his head when he stilled, blissful with having him tucked deep inside you again.

Until he cursed into your neck and you weren’t sure if it was out of giddiness, delight, relaxation, or relief like it would have been for you, or if it was because he was pissed at himself.

When he let you down a bit more abruptly than you anticipated, you were left only with a stronger doubt.

He turned to the side to get rid of the condom and you took the time to put your bra and dress back in place. When he turned back to face you, you had already grabbed your bag from the floor and were just looking at him. Your lips twitched — he looked so fucking handsome with that spark in his eyes. 

He cursed, then ruffled his hair for a moment before looking at you again, “I’ll take you home.”

You pulled your hair neatly back and pursed your lips, “I’m staying at Youngjoo’s. I don't have a place yet, so we… wouldn’t have privacy.”

He openly snorted, “You're assuming I want seconds.”

You sighed with a light shrug, “Isn't that what we just did?”

His derision fell through as his features hardened again but you didn't budge. You did what you did and didn't regret it for a second. You were both adults and he followed you, there was no point in pretending you didn't want each other. That was what you asked for and what he had given you, whether that made him angry or not.

But you didn't want to antagonize him. You gave him a short nod, “It's okay, I can—”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a dry look before giving you a nod to follow him. You considered for a second if you should — if it made him so angry, maybe you shouldn't. But tonight you were giving 0 fucks about shouldn’ts. You were doing what you wanted and what you wanted was your hands on him for as long as possible. 

So when he stopped next to a red motorcycle and opened the seat compartment to get you a helmet, you smirked. You wouldn't tell him, but you missed exactly that — hugging him while he sped between every single obstacle and your hair flowed behind you with the wind. When you were free to go mad fast but remained safe as you could only feel with him.

He sat first, putting on his helmet expertly and starting the motor in a well-rehearsed move. You had seen him do it before when you were still together, but there was a certain magic in seeing that even if he changed, some things didn’t.

He leaned his head ever so slightly to glance at you and you smirked, finally getting on behind him and gripping him firmly. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you were feeling daring — and he looked back. He checked on you, despite the derision and silences. You took the small win.

“You remember where Youngjoo lives?” You ask in a bit of a shout as he is looking at the road to finally get on it.

He didn’t answer you, but seeing the direction he took, you immediately assumed he remembered. And with this, you allowed yourself to just lean closer, wrap your arms tighter around his torso, and relax. Inhale his scent unapologetically by sticking your face into his shoulder maybe a bit too much; the helmet was big and he surely felt it. Palm his chest and torso over his jacket; you hoped he wouldn’t get too distracted. You were petty, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop and get angry with you or snap your hands away. Knowing this was perhaps the last chance you’d ever have to touch him, so you did. Wrong or right, it didn’t matter to you. You’d remember this later and all the little sensations and you’d be happy you did.

You were lulled by his warm body and the drum of the motor raging on, so you paid little attention to where he was going. All you knew was that when he stopped and pushed a button for a communal garage to open at the foot side of an apartment complex it was not Youngjoo’s place.

He rode more softly through the cars parked underground until he found his spot and stopped. You didn’t ask questions, you didn’t need to. You stepped out of the bike and handed him your helmet, and he took it and put it back, the both of you quiet. You made sure to remain quiet and you followed him, small as a mouse, into the elevator lobby, then inside one where he pressed the seventh floor, and even when the doors closed with only the two of you there.

Your mind was roaring on about him bringing you to his place and the only reason he would have to do that, and your chest would soon explode. With every passing minute ever since you laid eyes on him, it felt like you were living a dream. Only in dreams did you think you’d ever have the chance of being near him, so no matter what, you were winging it. Living the moment, even if all of this turned out to be an angry fuck, you’d gladly get on your back.

He typed the code to unlock an apartment door and you followed him inside, cheekiness left outside in the night right before you got into the bike and decided to make the most of your time with him. He threw the motorcycle keys on a table you couldn’t see because it was dark and turned on the lights, making you hold your breath. He had moved to that place, that much was certain, but even his space didn’t remind you of Jungkook as you expected it to.

You had only taken the step to peep into his home, you meant to turn back and take your shoes off as it was respectful to do, but he was a step ahead. You stepped out of the way to exchange places with him right after he got his jacket on the hanger, but he had something else in mind. His hands followed your movement to your waist, and as soon as you looked up, eager lips were searching for yours.

You instantly melted against the wall, hands raising to run through his hair as you let yourself dive into that contentment again. While you were relaxed, he was clearly impatient. His palms traced your curves in wide but quick movements, so firmly you knew you could have already been naked, he was learning the same. His tongue was inside your mouth almost as quickly as his body pressed to yours, stealing your thoughts and any possibility you ever had to change your mind. Not that you would, and you were sure he knew that. Your hands were gripping him close, your breathing was heavy and dragged and you weren’t fighting his kiss in the slightest, on the contrary. Your tongue was inviting him, your body was arching to expose more skin, you were taking what you could and you’d give whatever he wanted.

But then he broke the kiss and looked down, forcing you to stop as well. You looked at him under wanton fluttering lashes only to find him with that same stiff and reticent expression you had seen before. 

Your first heartbeat stung — you could guess why he was hesitating and there was nothing you could do about it now.

The second revolted you — you were there, weren’t you? In his house? He brought you here, so why worry? Why hesitate? Why overthink?

The third got you annoyed — if he was that hesitant, why bring you there in the first place? Why bother?

The fourth rilled you up, and that was when you spoke, “What’s wrong?”

He refused to look up at you but never moved away.

His breathing was calming down and you spoke without thinking, “Changed your mind?”

His eyes finally moved to yours and you saw his anger. And again, like a well-rehearsed exercise, all you could think was how you were right there.

“I’m here,” you said quietly, reaching for the curling strands of hair under his ear.

He didn’t move, eyes fixed on the corner of your lips, and you knew he was forcing himself to stay like this.

“I can leave,” he finally said. “You can sleep here and I can leave.”

“Why?”

He finally looked up at your eyes as you let your head fall back to the wall in a languid movement.

“This is your place, why leave?”

His jaw tensed and you could swear you saw a vein pulsing.

You sighed, “You brought me here so here I am. What do you want to do? Fuck me until morning? Gladly. Just sleep? I’m sure you have a big bed. Drink until we pass out? I’m down. Talk?” His eyebrows twitched and you nodded. “Not sure how that would work, but we can. Or not. I won't say another word if you don’t want me to. Just stop this internal struggle of yours. Do what you want to do.”

You were as comfortable as could be between him and the wall and just waited for his decision. Your eyes stayed on his pensive expression, taking in the little details before going down to trace his wide shoulders and biceps. He was definitely more buff and you wondered if it changed things a lot or—

“You can shower first.”

He backed away from you and you couldn’t help your expression sobering up. He looked almost apologetic, hiding something deep inside while showing you something you could only call a mask.

But you knew him. All those women thirsting after him, wishing they could make him smile and fall for them didn’t know him like you did. For better or worse, all they had were rumors while you had memories.

So you nodded and stepped towards the bathroom, but not before turning around midway, “Please don’t leave.”

The look you gave him was enough — pleading whereas his eyes flickered with an emotion you had not yet seen on him. But even if you wanted to press it and ask, you didn’t. At the end of the day, it was still his choice and you were well aware of it.

You took a calming shower, cleaning the sweat and alcohol from your skin with a shower gel that smelled of him and wondering what your next step should be. You ended up deciding that if he had left despite your request, you would call a taxi and go back to Youngjoo’s. You honestly hoped as you toweled yourself that he would tell you to leave and be clear about it instead of leaving to give you space at the expense of his comfort.

You glanced around the bathroom and ignored your discarded dress and heels in the corner, searching for something else instead. Your eyes fell on a black tee thrown over the laundry basket but that didn’t quite make it in. You grabbed it and brought it to your nose, shutting your eyes instantly with a longing grimace — it smelled of him. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the mess of feelings that his very existence created in you, but the tears in your eyes were enough.

You quickly put it on, looking at yourself in the mirror. He always enjoyed oversized clothes, which on you looked like two of you could fit. Your lips curved as you smoothed the fabric over your stomach, his scent gracing your senses every time you took a breath. Nothing beat that comfort.

You turned to leave the bathroom and hoped to find Jungkook still there. You hoped he’d let you keep the tee, though you wouldn’t be opposed to taking it off if it would be replaced with his strong arms—

The scent of coffee hit your nose quickly once in the living room and your brow furrowed. Not because it was coffee, Jungkook liked coffee, but because when you neared the kitchen, your guts twisted. On the counter, you saw a fuming mug and the cinnamon smell instantly teared you up. That plus the bottle of soymilk and the honey pot pushed to the back told you many things: he had those things he never really drank before laying around, he remembered your favorite latte, and he made it for you.

Your eyes jumped to his back; he was looking outside the kitchen window and by the intense coffee scent around him, you knew before he turned that he was having a black expresso.

He looked at you and your guts turned; all you could do was look into his eyes while your fingers gripped the hem of his shirt on you. You were tearing up in a way you couldn’t control, everything was too much. He didn’t leave. You were there, in his life, in his home, wearing his clothes, having your favorite drink that he prepared for you because he still remembered how. That meant he had to care, even if just a little, and you didn’t know what to say but—

Your chin trembled but before you voiced anything, he finished his coffee, put the empty cup in the sink, and passed you to enter the bathroom. The door merely clicked closed and you covered your eyes, trying to reel your emotions back in. You stepped to the counter to grab your coffee and as soon as the taste hit your tongue, your heart shook, creasing lines between your eyebrows as you teared up.

You didn’t want to have hope, but your stupid heart was turning a deaf ear. You never had hope before, you knew you fucked up and never handled things properly, and for the way you hurt him, you knew you didn’t deserve any kindness. You scoffed at yourself and drank more to have the comfort of that warmth down your chest as if it came straight from him. You knew and it made no sense but you were still there and you were willing to delude yourself for a moment longer.

So you took your mug and the opportunity to look around while you heard the shower noise faintly in the background. His place was bigger now and you looked around with a smile on your face. He had the same black leather couch, the same grey bean bag, and the same shoebox by the entrance. The fact that he had a projector screen instead of a TV made you smile, he spoke for ages that he wanted to do that if he ever moved out. But as you took in the rest of the place, your smile broke a little.

On the corner, there was a barbell weight set, dumbbells, a pull-up bar, and resistance bands. He used to work out before, but now you knew why he looked bigger — he definitely worked out more now. You pursed your lips with the sweet latte comforting you as you sipped it slowly; you didn’t want to think about why he was making that effort.

You moved on to peep at his desk, interested in what he was working on, and you stilled. He still had his gaming keyboard, mouse, and desktop, but now he had books about photography on the desk. He always liked photography and filmmaking, but the new camera and microphone spoke volumes about what he was working on at the moment. You searched around for the easel he’d always have with a recent work in progress or his sketch notebook but you couldn’t find them, and so you pressed your lips. You loved it when sketched you, always when you least expected it, showing you beautiful versions of yourself you only started believing because of him.

You finished the coffee, eager for the sweet trace to link you back to him — you wondered what happened to—

You turned when you heard the bathroom door opening, you never noticed he had stopped showering. Your thoughts tripped over themselves at the sight of him: wet raven hair ruffled by a towel you couldn’t see, dark eyes set on you as if he wanted to make sure he was seeing right, soft golden skin covering wide shoulders and swollen arms, chest, leading to firm abs that were always there, but not as marked. Your eyes lowered, but the black towel was hanging on to his hip like you could only envy.

You raised your eyes to find him serious, looking at you, tense features on a tense body. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, waving the empty mug before placing it down. You swallowed a lump at the view of him walking towards you, despite his demeanor. “It’s my favorite—”

You weren’t startled when he grabbed your head and crashed his mouth to yours. You were praying for it to happen, and the burn running down your chest from the way your mouths tried to consume one another had you melting instantly. You wanted him, you weren’t hiding it, and whatever way he wanted to touch you worked as long as he did. As long as those lips pressing yours covered all of you. As long as his tongue fighting yours soon spelled your pleasure at his whim while his fingers pressed marks only he could trace on you.

Your hands moved to those wide shoulders that had your knees wobbly and he pushed them away before forcing your head up to face him better. He wanted your focus on your kiss only and you didn’t mind, but the temptation to grab him and scratch him was overriding your senses. You tried again, but this time he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you with him. You gripped his shoulders for support, finally sinking your nails in the soft muscle just like he was taking small bites out of your bottom lip.

Your ass hit something and when he pushed you on it, you just briefly freed one hand to throw whatever was on the dining table behind you off to have some space. You moaned with the bites he was leaving down your neck while you focused on keeping him close with your legs wrapped around him. He fumbled with the tee shirt to get his hands on you and quickly grabbed your chest in a push-and-squeeze motion that had you moaning and humping him. Fuck, you missed this. No one could ever mess you up like he could, you always turned into a whimpering wet mess with him.

He scratched down your stomach to your hips, squeezing them harshly, then pulled away. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and you raised your arms instantly to let him strip you.

He stepped back and threw the shirt on the floor, hungry dark eyes eying you from head to toe.

“Fuck, look at you.”

A subtle line showed between your eyebrows; his tone was abrasive in a way you weren’t familiar with. But the way he stepped back between your legs while getting on his knees was much more in line with what you knew. Him in a praying position tracing your skin with open-mouthed kisses while he groped and scratched every inch of you was one of the reasons you couldn’t forget him. You couldn’t let go of what it felt like to be desired by that man. The thought alone had you wet and whimpering, the only difference was that now you’d experience it again after only dreams and hopes.

His mouth kept tracing kisses on your inner thighs, just like he knew would drive you crazy, but you didn’t whine about it. No, you wanted it to last. Whatever he’d give to you, you wanted everything. You weren’t beyond begging, but you wouldn’t just with a little bit of torture. No, you knew how that mouth would move on you, how his tongue would lap at the perfect rhythm. You could wait for perfection.

He slapped your ass on one side, opening your leg further with a whimper from you. He repeated the motion on the other side and only then did you notice you were squeezing him between your legs. It made you smirk as you looked down — you could see his dark eyes with a few wet hair strands over them, the hint of teeth as he grazed your sensitive inner thighs. He could spank you all he wanted, you wanted him to. So you smiled and pressed your lips, clearly telling him that you’d keep your mouth shut.

He bit down, getting a deep moan from you. You were clenching around nothing, dripping with slick, and you were sure he noticed.

“Since when are you so patient?”

He sounded annoyed and you giggled wantonly, so fucking amused you couldn’t help it. “I’m patient when it’s worth it.” You could feel his hands pressing your skin, going to the swell of your ass to squeeze, and you nearly sighed. “I wouldn’t dare rush perfection.”

He scoffed but dropped his mouth on you instantly, having all your cockiness evaporating on the spot. He ate you like only he did, grabbing your squirmy self still while he made out with you. His tongue lapped at your clit in a fixed rhythm that you couldn’t explain and seconds later you released every square inch of air from inside your lungs with a deep moan. He knew you liked a stable slow rhythm, but keeping your thighs in place was irking you. It was right there! If only he’d let you move. Just a centemeter right— No! Just one or two to the left and you’d be lost to those sensations you hadn’t felt in months.

You whimpered, but you couldn’t talk while he did that to you. You reached for his hands on your hips and squeezed them, both looking for support and for a way to be free. His humming to your core had you sucking in a breath, but what broke you were his words.

“Stay still, bubbles. Let me get you there.”

And he licked you faster, keeping pressure on you with his mouth that had you whimpering and tensing up like a coil about to spring. Every lap of his tongue increased your tension, pitched your moan, and stole your breath, to a point you thought you’d explode. You sat up in your tension and grabbed his hair, ecstatic. It was him with his face half buried in you, eating you, getting you there, calling you by your pet name like nothing changed.

That thought alone pushed you to the edge and you hopped on the train. Steadily and surely, Jungkook would take you there just like he promised. Just like you wished.

So you started moaning louder, half derailed, “Fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so good.” You could barely breathe, but you wanted him to know how much you loved this. “Take me there, please, I’m—”

Your voice broke because you suddenly were cold. You were panting and shocked, but your first instinct was to look down at him and loosen up your grip on his hair.

“Are you okay?”

He faced you and stayed silent, with your slick covering his nose, mouth, and chin while his digits dag at your hips. Your worry was clouding you, having your hand brush his cheek in search of an answer that only came when he stood up and turned away. Then, you blinked to reality and looked down and around. You were confused. Not because he stopped, but because he insisted on staying quiet and to himself.

You got up and were about to speak your mind when you saw that the towel had fallen to the ground. That gave you the impulse to walk up to him and look down shamelessly — he was so hard he was pointing at you. You raised your eyes and found his on yours, darker than before. He was tense and angry, that was clear, but he was hard, having rubbed his hand over his face to clean your slick off him. But then, why was he licking his lips and his lip rings, where your taste was probably stronger?

You took a deep breath and placed your hands firmly on his shoulders, pushing him steadily. He let you, walking back at your will until his calves hit the sofa. You tapped his shoulders once and he sat down. His hands were on your hips and started tracing circles absentmindedly, and you leaned closer to pet his hair. His sweet caresses were enough to soothe you, to become sure of something you weren't sure you had the right to be sure of. But it didn't matter — he chose the wrong night to be indecisive. You were willing to choose for you both.

You kissed his head before getting on your knees in between his legs. He gave you a dark cold stare and with anyone else you might have cowered, but not with him. You waited a moment with your hands over his legs, but he never gave you clear permission, incentive, or rejection. So you took the option that suited you best and leaned in.

You trailed your lips over his soft and built thighs, kneading the firmness with a whimper caught in your throat. You kissed closer and closer, releasing sighs left and right and paying little to no mind to what he would think of you for it. You both had always been like this: crazy for one another, praising and worshiping as quickly as you would use and abuse. You had never had another relationship like it, before or after, and to say you missed it would be an understatement.

But you weren’t going to sob over past mistakes right now. No, what mattered now was to not make a stupid mistake like not kissing, licking, and scratching every inch of him until he either begged or complained or you lost it.

You moved ever so closer to his crotch but stopped by his balls first, giving them wide-tongued licks that had him sighing. You glanced up to see his eyes closed, wet hair dripping down his shoulders, and the first hint of relaxation from him. That’s it, you coed in your mind. Fuck did you miss seeing him falling apart, you craved it and you’d do it.

You kept licking and kissing and as you moved up his shaft it occurred to you that it didn’t matter that you hadn’t come. It didn’t matter if he had given up or even why. You weren't opening your mouth around his tip and licking it with hunger because you wanted something in return.

You moaned as soon as that taste hit your buds and your thoughts became a blur. You bobbed your head mindlessly, drooling over him, using the expanse of your tongue on his tip, taking whatever you could no matter how because you fucking missed it. That taste, that hardness, the hand that came to grip your head but remained light as a feather, and finally, you looked up. His eyebrows were knit in pleasure with his mouth agape, tongue peaking through, and licking his lip ring while grabbing your head in a firm yet loving gesture — that was it, the prize. He was finally relaxed as you bobbed your head and drooled all over him and the perspective of making him weak exhilarated you in a way that had you going harder, firmer, stronger. You didn’t notice, but you were breathing in between his cock touching your throat, your cheeks stayed hollowed, and your hand accompanied your every move over his shaft while you played with his balls. When his precum invaded your mouth, all your thoughts went out the door.

You gripped his cock firmer and moaned all over it, adjusting your posture to focus even better. Fuck, did you want his taste in your mouth. You touched yourself to the thought of it before, of him, but now being there on your knees with his grunts finally adoring your ears, your focus was all on him. You could come later to the memory of that very moment, all he had to do was let go and shoot warm ropes of cum down your throat.

But he recoiled away and guided your head away. You had no idea if he pulled your hair, but you knew he never asked you to stop. The only sounds out of his mouth were grunts of pleasure and you had seen his face — he was on cloud nine with you. He liked it, he was weak for it, for you and the way you did it, so why?

You looked up, an arched eyebrow quizzically raised, but he had his bicep covering his eyes while his chest heaved up and down. You were done with him stripping away everything you wanted from you, so you got up and got on his lap with a knee on either side of him. You thought he might have shooed you away or told you to get off, but no. His hands went instantly to support your hips and you were even more irked.

“Why?”

He opened his eyes and the stiffness was back to his pleasant features. That had you pouting with tears in your eyes. Maybe you could figure out why, but you didn’t care — you leaned forward and brushed his cheek gently. He brought you there, he wasn’t rejecting you, pulling you away, or anything like that. It was time he made a decision.

“Why push me away?” You insisted, letting your nail graze his sweet cheek gently. He recognized that tone in your voice, and that was why he answered.

“I was about to cum.”

“So?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes only hardened, and you looked down at his erect cock between you. There were so many things you could say, and so many paths to choose from. You could get angry, whiny, blow him anyway, ride him, and you considered every option. But you kept reverting to that anger behind those beautiful dark eyes. And as you both faced each other, you knew why he was mad — because you hurt him the year before. Because what you were doing was maybe a source of conflict, it sure could have been for you as well if you didn’t still…

Well.

Your expression softened as you leaned to close your lips near the skin of his forehead, “Take it out on me.”

He didn’t move or respond and you just dragged your lips soothingly over his skin in small peppered kisses.

“Please,” you whispered. “Take it all out on me. I want you to.” You dragged your nails up his neck and he leaned his head forward. “I need you to.”

His hands gripped your waist as he seemed to hide in your chest and you sat closer to him. You petted his beautifully longer hair, still wet under your touch, and sighed when he pressed your back to keep you close. You smiled and kissed his head, taking that as a yes. So you waited like that until he decided how he would do it.

Your answer came when he glued his mouth to your chest and started nibbling down until he caught a nipple. You didn’t hide your sigh — he was a tits kind of guy and he always loved yours, worshiping them in every sense of the word. And you had always loved him for it and for the way he could leave you a moaning mess with his attention there only.

So you hissed and sighed with his mouth, tongue, and teeth driving you insane. To return the favor, you reached down in between your bodies and found his rock-hard boner. Your spit was drying, but not yet, so you jerked him off gently through your pitchy moans.

You could feel him twitching in your hand. You knew he loved your tits and got lost in licking and biting them. You knew he got crazy when you played with him at the same time, playing with his weakness while truthfully wanting nothing more than for him to play with all of you.

So you leaned down by his ear. “Come on,” you whispered in a low tone. “Take it out on me. Do it.” You gripped him a bit harder, earning a stronger bite from him that had you instantly hissing and clenching around nothing. “I want to feel you.” Your hand never stopped and he seemed to be listening to you — only his tongue was moving. “Hard. Deep. Fuck it all out on me.”

You buried your nose in his hair and waited, never stopping your hand on him. You’d prefer he fucked you senseless, but even jerking him off would be nice if that was his mood.

But you doubted it was, and indeed, it wasn’t. He let go of your abused nipple and faced you for a second. He didn’t comment on anything you said, he only grabbed you firmly by the hips and stood up, taking you with him.

You gasped mutely and hugged him strongly, only to realize that he was carrying you without an ounce of effort. He was truly stronger, which could mean he would fuck you harder—

He dropped you on his bed, making you whimper and your tits bounce around, then moved away. You sat up, worried about him just leaving, but then you tilted your head. He was adjusting a full-body mirror that was purposefully facing another wall to show the bed. You saw your reflection on it and mused over why he had that mirror set like that and took the time to change it. 

He neared you while rolling a condom and you looked at him, breath slowing with the perspective of what would happen now. He traced a hand down your hip and you laid back, but he immediately gripped both your sides and turned you around. You puffed, half annoyed half melting at being handled like that, and got on all fours for him. You thought he’d toy with you and you’d patiently wait for what you wanted most, but he didn’t. He instantly put his cock at your entrance and you groaned, gripping the sheets with the desire bursting through you.

“You want it?” His tone was quiet but sure, almost cold. His hand struck your ass but you only gave him a gentle moan. “Get it then.”

You bit your lip and moved back, opening your mouth with the familiar stretch that had you curling your toes. You went slowly, thankful for his resistance that allowed his cock to brave more and more, inch by inch, until you felt full. You knew he wasn’t totally in, and he reminded you by jerking his hips once until he bottomed out. You gave him a little whine and he chuckled.

“There. Didn’t think you had forgotten how I fucked you a second ago, but I’ll remind you.”

He snapped his hips into yours and you knew he wouldn’t be gentle, but you didn’t care. He was doing what you asked, finally connected to you, giving you the pleasure of your dreams. It didn’t matter if he was treating you roughly, you asked for it. You wanted it, you needed it. Him, his anger, anything he would give you.

“Look at you,” he grunted before gripping your ass better. “I haven’t even started.”

You opened your eyes and tilted your head to face him through the mirror. You gave zero fucks about how vulnerable you were, needy, greedy, whimpering, and begging for more even though you knew how much more could come. No, you looked at him. At his focused expression telling you this wasn’t as easy as he made it seem. At his flexed abs, tense thighs, and buff biceps. At his hand on your ass, squeezing. At his eyes moving from yours to verify your position — not only if you looked good, but at your knees and elbows sliding. For your comfort. It had to be, right?

You were tucked in his grip, so when he went harder, you had nowhere to go. You took his hips slapping against you and moaned loudly, abandoned to the feeling that only he fucking you could tear out of you.

“Can’t take it?” His voice was mocking. “How’s that?” You couldn’t coherently answer. “Are you that desperate for a proper dicking?” 

“Wasn’t that what you did before?”

You barely got it out but he heard you, not stopping for a second. “Clearly wasn’t enough. Your boyfriend must be doing a really sloppy job.”

His voice was tense, you wondered if bitterness was in the mix, but you were too high to think about it.

“No boyfriend. Maybe that’s the problem.”

His hand struck your ass so hard you whimpered a cry. In a second, he was rubbing that area and gripping you closer, fucking you harder. It made you see stars and you couldn’t get enough.

“So whiny,” he grunted, “so needy.” 

You scoffed. He was the one fucking you as hard as possible.

“Do you always moan like that?” You felt his nails on your asscheeks. “Any cock can get that noise out of you.”

You grinned, “No, only yours can.” You expected another slap but it didn’t come. “Never met anyone who can fuck me like you.”

He smacked the other asscheek harshly and gripped you so hard that the constant hit of his cock deep inside you almost short-circuited your brain.

“But you searched.”

He was speaking between gritted teeth, but you were in no condition to notice. “So did you. Fucked how many right here, on this bed?”

He smacked your ass again, but looking through the mirror you could see he wasn’t just angry now. His eyes were closed as if in pain. But you were too rilled up to stop.

“Looking for what? Any tight cunt?” He was getting sloppy and you couldn’t shut up. “Or did you really think anyone else could get you this desperate?” You fucked yourself on his cock against his rhythm and you could swear he growled. But who cared, he was snapping his hips to yours again. “Why so quiet?” His hand striking your ass had you arching for him, but not quieting down. “Tell me. Do you cream yourself this easily with—”

He pulled your hair, forcing your back to arch and take him deeper. Your mouth opened, instantly melting in ways only he could cause until you shivered when you felt him near your ear.

“No.” You opened your eyes in his silence to find him looking at you through the mirror. If your opened mouth spelled how deep he was buried inside you, then his eyes told of how desperate he was. “Only you do this to me. Only you drive me this fucking crazy.”

He connected his nose to your shoulder despite ramming into you wildly and grunted together with you. You couldn’t stifle your moans, your curses, or your prayers. But you yelped when suddenly he let you go and rolled you over. He got between your legs and immediately slid inside, earning a sigh from you and a plea.

He pulled your legs over his shoulders and leaned down over you, seeing your eyes widen. You extended your hands, what for you weren’t certain, but he grabbed them and pressed them to the mattress on either side of your head.

His hips restarted their rocking and you moaned desperately. You squirmed, and moaned, and said his name, and begged, and squeezed his hands, and all the while he never stopped fucking you. He was sweating, it was dripping over you, but you couldn’t care. All that mattered was that he was as deep as possible inside you, torturing you with how good it felt, and you were there for it. Loving every moment.

“Fuck— You’re so deep—”

“You like it?”

His tone was gentle, almost as if he wished for nothing but to please you. You were lost. You wished for nothing else but him.

“Yes— Yes—”

You were desperate, at the edge of your emotions with tears in your eyes and he saw it. “Tell me what you want.”

“You!” Your answer was instantaneous, at the end of a moan. “You, fuck, please, you, just you—”

“I’m here.”

You gripped his hands and anxiety crossed your features for a moment, “Please.”

He kissed you, relenting his rhythm, only to whisper to your lips, “I’m here, bubbles.”

You opened your teary eyes to look at him and your heart shook. His eyes were sweet despite the pleasure and effort mingling in his features. He was looking at you, really looking, really seeing you, and he was there. He wasn’t taking it out on you anymore, he was really with you, like he once was. 

You didn’t want to delude yourself, but the way he continued, staying close to your face to peck your lips and your cheeks, was swelling your heart too much to be contained. You moved with him, lulled by that movement you longed for for too long. That thought alone got you on the right tangent and you made sure to tell him through moans, looks, and your hands in his. He nuzzled you, sweat dripping down, and answered every plea and moan with signs of his own pleasure.

You let it grow inside you until you knew you couldn’t be contained, and neither did you want to. You opened your mouth to tell him and nothing came out, but he got it.

“Come with me.”

He grunted his words before kissing you and you whimpered and moaned your overwhelming pleasure without breaking away. He groaned into your mouth and pressed your lips firmly when you were both done, panting, sweaty, and spent.

You didn’t think about what would happen after that; truthfully, you wished time would stop. For a moment you believed it could be true — he stayed inside you with his mouth on your neck just suckling as you enjoyed his weight over you. You were drifting away, so utterly relaxed, happy, and fulfilled.

Until he pulled away and your heart cracked.

You couldn’t open your eyes immediately, you weren’t ready to face it again, not after the way you were just together. But when you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised.

Jungkook looked tired and sleepy, but that was it. He was extending his hand for you and you grabbed it. He pulled you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pointing at the toilet and turning to handle the condom. You peed but your mind latched onto nothing, you didn’t want to ruin that bliss.

He took your hand again and pulled you back to bed, opening the sheets before pushing you gently with an arm around your waist. You sighed and leaned back into him. He was holding you to his chest as he covered you both with a sheet and you could swear that was all a dream. All of it.

[Next part>]

SX Seoul Series | Jungkook Entry 💜 Bubbles (Part 2)

PAIRING: Jungkook/Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You wake up the next morning and feelings you didn't want to stir are brought back to the surface. You think he might feel the same way but maybe you jumped to conclusions too soon.

WORD COUNT: 8.3k

GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: exes, explicit, unprotected sex (stay safe!), you guys fight and stuff gets punched and thrown around, lingering feelings, heartbreak, second chances

PARTS: [1] [2]

A.N. I wrote this story after a while of being unable to focus and write so I hope you enjoy it, I think it turned out fun :)

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You woke up in the morning, yet despite the sun’s rays hitting the floor, you couldn't be certain. Were you truly waking up?

You sighed and pressed yourself further back into a welcoming chest. The sheets had a familiar scent, and this along with the tattooed arm enveloping you and the breath fanning your hair made you sure that you were still dreaming. You moved ever so slightly, you wanted to submerge deeper into that dream, and his legs tangled with yours even better as if to tell you you were not going anywhere. It melted you because it reminded you of so many mornings before. So many dawns and sunsets where you’d be tucked in safely inside those arms, with his hum near your ear, his perfume trickling your nose, and you took deep breaths. That was your safety net, the place you rushed to so you could recover, rest, and gain the courage to face the world.

It was enough for you to search for even more. You were sleepy, dreaming, and on the only fluffy cloud in the sky where you wanted to be. So you turned under his arm to face him and your heart instantly trembled. His eyes were closed, but the soft lines of his face were the sweetest thing you had ever seen. You missed those pouty lips, that round cutesy nose, and the swell of those cheeks you used to tease all the time and that made you fall in love whenever delicate dimples would crease. His eyebrows had always been so expressive and now one had a piercing, which didn’t match the two rings adorning his lower lip except that he pierced the same side of his face. But even that didn’t surprise you; when you first met, he said he always wanted to do something, but didn’t know exactly what. You guessed he had figured it out.

You reached to brush his hair aside and felt the two studs on his eyebrow with a feather-like touch — you liked it. You liked everything about him, always had. You knew then your heart was getting loud and you smirked when it became deafening — because he opened his eyes. And in that moment, you decided that reality would only come knocking if you let it. You could pretend it didn’t exist. You could pretend Jungkook was still yours, that he didn’t hate you, that you belonged in his arms again.

You leaned in to nuzzle him and gave him a moment to move away. You were clear — you wanted to go on that ride again and forget everything else, but what about him?

He brushed his nose to yours once and captured your lips with a kiss that fluttered your heart. It wasn’t desperate or crude, it was gentle and warm like when two lovers said good morning. And that was all you needed.

You snuggled closer, embracing him and stretching and sighing in multiple turns. He returned your kiss and held you close, equally invested in that moment with you, away from any pain, anger, or subterfuge. This made you smile, contentment radiating from every corner of you, and it was as if you were in an alternate dimension. You could feel his love again and adore him back and you wanted to make the best of it.

Maybe it seemed against your better judgment, but you broke your kiss with a mischievous smile and turned your back on him. You pulled his arm firmer around you, in case he had silly ideas, and rubbed your ass on his crotch for good measure. The Jungkook you knew didn’t need any explanations or instructions, and indeed, he grabbed you close, grinding his hardening dick on your ass while breathing in the scent of your skin.

His hand came to cup your breast gently and you grinned, feeling elated with the way he was all over you. When he started playing with your nipple to harden it, you bit your lower lip and failed to contain your whimpers. He knew you were sensitive but it never stopped him before.

He started biting and licking down your neck and you were covered in goosebumps, arching your back to give him better access. He kept his sweet torture, but that wasn’t enough for you — you reached between your legs to grab his hard cock behind you and pull it to be squished between your thighs when you closed them. Then you rocked your hips and melted at the groan behind you.

“That’s it,” you cooed in a whisper, clenching around nothing in anticipation. “You’re so hard for me.”

You knew he loved to be coaxed, the same way you loved to tell him how good he felt. He wasn’t stopping, nibbling down your skin and pinching your nipple gently as he rutted you and you bit your lip.

“And I’m so ready for you,” you sighed. “Wont you check?”

Your tone was needy but you never bothered hiding it. His hand travelled from your chest to your core and instantly felt how you were dripping from your folds.

You whimpered, “See how you slide so well?” You meant at the surface, but his fingers sank into your flesh, pumping wet sounds out of you along with needy moans. “Fuck— You know where to go. You’ll feel so good, I promise.”

You felt his smile on your skin as he busied himself pumping you with two digits and getting juicy noises out of you. You moaned onto the pillow, rocking your hips to feel him better both inside you and in between your legs. You loved those sensations, not just the pleasure, but the scent reaching your nose because you were in his bed. You were living a dream and it was absolutely perfect.

His hand grabbed your hip, knowing well you were leaning forward and tilting your ass so he’d eventually slip inside you. The way he was making you crazy for it didn’t elude you, but you were never beyond begging.

“Fuck, baby. Please let me have you, please.”

He froze and you squirmed to feel him, thinking that was him just making you work harder for him.

He moved quickly enough that you didn’t think beyond it — he reached behind him inside a nightstand drawer and got something. You heard the wrap tearing and waited until he was ready. You didn’t let a single thought cross your mind, not now.

He grabbed your hip again and this time his cock pushed between your folds to get inside you, making you moan and lose all strength. He rocked his hips into yours and you gasped, leaning back. You didn’t expect him to grab your hair and arch you further, but you definitely tensed more around him, barely able to catch your breath.

“Fuck— Fuck, I love it when you do this.”

You could feel his breath down your neck. “Yeah? Love it whenever a guy fucks you like this?”

“No, only you.” Your reply was as natural as breathing, giving him all you had. “Always only you.” You were burning inside out, feeling flush not only on your cheeks but also on your chest, hands, and stomach. You reached to grip his arm supporting your hip in place; you were starting to get sweaty but you doubted he minded. You were just looking for more ways to connect with him. “Are you going to tease me? Make me a good girl for you? I always loved to be good so I could earn you filling me up completely.”

His hips jerked off tempo and you only sighed. He remembered for sure what you were talking about.

His fingers dug at your skin, “Yeah? How many times have you begged for a guy’s cum after that?”

“Never. You’re the only one I ever begged to, the only cum I ever wanted. The only raw cock inside me, the only—”

He stopped and pushed you by the shoulder to face him. You were a bit startled but faced him with all the vulnerability you had been showing so far. His eyes were glistening, almost hurt, and your breath shook. You didn’t want that reality, the one in which you hurt him. You wanted to be back a year before when everything was good and sweet.

His eyes were watering up and he looked down. You thought he was running away from you and you were desperate for him to stay, and you looked down too. Before you could speak, you noticed he had his hand around the base of his cock, just frozen like that.

You teared up, “Do it.”

He looked up at you and you saw tears in his eyes as well. 

You smiled, “I never had anyone other than you raw. If you want to, I’d love to feel you again.”

He didn’t even blink. You were certain it was an impulse as you saw him pull the condom out and guide himself inside you as if he were a dying man and your core was his salvation. But as you both groaned and closed your eyes with the feeling of being connected again, you couldn’t care. You looked at him with a tear sliding down your face into the pillow and knew that it would all just break your heart in the end.

He must have known it too, because his eyes were glistening and red as he thrust into you at a slower pace. You instantly wanted to beg, but he gripped you closer, jerking his hips into you in a hard yet loving way that melted you to the bone.

“Fuck,” you dragged, trying to look up so you could see him above your legs still bent to the side like when you were spooning. You could feel him all over you again, inside and out in ways that felt like your souls were merging and it had you enter that beautiful reverie. You gripped his arm harder and forced his hand on your chest to squeeze as you moved with him. “Don’t stop. Please, please, please,” you said with every moan, scared that he would pull away and leave you. “Only you feel like this, please.”

“Only me?”

He was breathless, you almost didn’t hear him over your prayers. “Only you,” you confirmed, then you trembled and the words dripped out of your mouth. “I’ve missed you so much. So much,” your voice smothered with anxiety, with the tears flowing from your eyes that you squinted shut.

You didn’t fear that he would reject you or mock you or ignore you, you weren’t thinking. Your heart was hurting and you couldn’t keep it in anymore.

He slowed down and you hid your face under your hands, immediately wanting to ask him not to stop when you felt his breath near your ear.

“Me too. I’ve missed you too, bubbles.” His voice was wavering as he reached to kiss every inch of skin in range, soon after releasing his hand from your grasp only to grab it back and bring it to his lips. “I’ve missed everything. I’ve missed this.”

A sob almost silenced you, but you managed to call for him first, “Kook.”

It was a desperate sound you were almost ashamed to let out, so your hands instantly covered your face again. 

He stopped and in a second was pulling your leg under him so he could get on top of you in between your legs and hold you tightly. He leaned down to kiss your hands away as his hips rocked into you gently.

His lips and calls convinced you to uncover your face only to wrap your arms around him and hide in his neck, “I miss you!” You whispered with a lump in your throat. “Please.”

He kissed your red and wet cheeks, down to the salty traces that led into your hairline, “I miss you too.”

Shivers ran down your body as his words emerged a knot of feelings from inside your chest. You were never able to face it, to deal with it, to forgive him or yourself, but his words. The way he was with you, holding you close just like he used to when he loved you. His body was fully connected to yours, maybe even his soul.

You sank your nails onto his back and focused on his weight on you, his soft skin, his scent, and the burning tension in your lower stomach. You knew you would explode soon but you needed to let it out.

“I wanted to see you.”

He kissed your head, “I’m here.”

“I needed to see you,” you tried, but the pleasure sparking inside you was about to steal that chance. So you hugged him closer — a moan was pushed out of you and you could feel your orgasm starting, but you still chirped, “I love—”

You couldn’t finish as you started shaking uncontrollably from the waves of pleasure tensing and relaxing every muscle in your body. You clung on to him, squeezing him so tightly you were surprised he didn’t didn’t break apart. But maybe he didn’t for the same reason as you — he was holding you together.

He waited for you to be done before pulling out and coming over your belly. He didn’t bother separating your bodies and just groaned near your ear as you hugged him close. You could feel the warm substance trickling down the sides of your stomach but you didn’t care. You were never one to be bothered, you were not disgusted by him in the slightest.

He kissed your head and you smiled, waiting and longing for his kiss to travel to your cheeks, then further to your mouth. You tried to control your happiness and kiss him back placatingly, still letting that joy reach corners of you that were dim otherwise.

When he pulled away, you had no idea what would happen, but you were at ease. Because you opened up to him and he missed you back, and even though you weren’t able to tell him properly that you still loved him, you’d surely have another opportunity soon.

That was what you thought and the reason your lips were curved, even when he got away from you to grab wipes so he could clean you. Yet as he did, you noticed he wasn’t looking at you. His jaw was hardening and he didn’t look nearly half as relaxed as you did.

Shit.

He wasn’t done yet when you tried to reach for his hand, but he dodged you and threw the wipe away before putting his legs out of the bed to sit with his back to you. You started shaking.

“Not to ruin your post-nut clarity, but I’d like to talk.”

You chuckled nervously and fumbled with the sheet — everything you said felt risky, and every step you took felt like the ice under you would crack. You feared speaking too soon but couldn’t risk doing it too late. You let those fears drown you once, but not again. At least this time your mistake would be insisting, not letting it slide.

“Nothing to talk about.”

You knew from his tone that he was about to push you away and it made you react. “That’s not true. I said I miss you, and you said it back.”

He didn’t answer; all you could see were his wide shoulders as he leaned forward, supported on his knees, and kept quiet.

You gave him the chance to speak his mind because maybe he needed time and who knew, maybe you did too. But you couldn’t think as you waited, you had no idea what to say. Nothing felt enough, but you wanted to say everything.

He heaved a deep breath and moved a millimeter to get up, and you immediately pushed. “Answer me. Talk to me. Why can’t we have a conversation?”

He scoffed, “That’s rich coming from you.”

You sat up as he got up and searched for clothes in a nearby closet. “It goes both ways.” 

You bit your tongue and cursed yourself for reacting instead of thinking first — you didn’t want to fight, you wanted to talk. 

You took a deep breath and spoke while he put a pair of boxers on, “Do you miss me?”

He scoffed and left the room and you jumped off the bed after him. You could only grab the nearest tee shirt you saw, black as everything else he owned, and scurried after him.

“Answer me,” you insisted, seeing him in the living room putting pants on. Where did those even come from? “Fucking hell, Jungkook, just answer me!”

“What?!” He exploded, anger brazen on his features, but you didn’t step back.

“Do you really miss me?”

“No.”

You raised your chin and tried to not give away how your heart was cracking further. You couldn’t think or you’d start crying. “Well, fuck you too.” Your voice still wavered, “Don’t fucking lie next time.”

You turned to reach the bathroom and get your clothes so you could leave. Your heart was pulsating with sharp pain and you knew you were seconds away from crying. You needed to get out. Now.

“You’re assuming I—”

“Yeah yeah, no seconds,” you spat bitterly, unsure if he heard you. He shut up, so he did. You grabbed your clothes, “You don’t have to worry about that.”

A sudden noise from behind you startled you so before you could strip, you turned around — he had kicked the bathroom door with so much strength you thought it might have popped off.

“What the fuck do you want from me?!”

“How many times do I have to say it? A fucking conversation!”

“I have nothing to say to you!”

“Fine! You’ll lie anyway!”

You turned your back to him, letting the poisonous anger burn your guts while you got a hang of your dress so you could put it on.

When a loud noise came from the door again, you weren’t even surprised. This time, he punched it and something metal hopped over the floor and rolled away.

“As if you didn’t say those things in the spur of the moment!”

“I didn’t.” Tears ran down your face and you cleaned them quickly, refusing to let the cry take over you. “I meant every word I said.”

“Bullshit,” his voice had so much contempt you almost broke down.

“I don’t care what you believe,” was all you said, then took the tee off. “Just because you lied doesn’t mean I did.”

He saw how your back bent and tensed while you put your strapless bra on. He was shaking in anger but he heard you sniffle and you didn’t sound like you were mocking him. He couldn’t handle it if it was true.

“Don’t joke around—”

“I’m not fucking joking.” You sounded angry now and you grabbed your dress to put it on. He clenched his fists. “But it doesn’t matter, it’s done.”

You put your strapless dress back on, adjusting it so it would cover you as much as possible. You had no way of seeing how angry he was getting at the sight of you wearing that again instead of his clothes, but it was something he would never admit.

“You want me to believe you wanted to see me?”

His voice was derisive and you turned to him. “I did.”

“That you needed to see me?”

He scoffed and you grabbed your heels on the floor. “I did.”

You turned back to him, thinking that maybe now you could actually talk, but he was shaking his head. You saw tears in his eyes before he started laughing and rubbing his face.

“It’s funny, is it?” You asked, filled with contempt yourself. “Why, you didn’t even hit the punchline yet.”

He uncovered his face and his whole expression was a warning.

“What?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. “If you’re going to mock me then at least do it well.”

His jawline was tensing again but you couldn’t care anymore.

“Come on, where’s the final question? You heard me. You would be running your mouth if you didn’t.” You scoffed, “Though I couldn’t really say it properly, but—”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

For a second you thought he was scared, but you only smirked, “I don’t? You know what? You’re right. Congratulations, you’re right about something and all you had to do was be an asshole.” You stepped towards him to get out but he didn’t move out of the way. “Let me go.”

He shook his head and you ignored all kinds of emotions on his face.

You pushed him, but he didn’t move. “Let me go.”

“No.”

You pushed his shoulders again, but he didn’t budge. You clenched your jaw, upset, and saw that it didn’t bother him in the slightest. In fact, maybe he liked it. You pushed him once more and he tried grabbing your arms, and you struggled.

He won — he grabbed your forearms, “What did you say?” You scoffed and he pulled you closer. “Tell me what was I supposed to have heard?”

“I said I—” 

You were ready to spit it in his face but your throat blocked as you looked into his eyes. You were both angry and hurt, and you thought you were above it, but you weren’t. If you said it again, it would hurt infinitely more. But then it hit you — he just used you. He was attracted to you and wanted an easy fuck, and that was what that night was. You were hung up on him like a moron.

Your eyes teared up but you made a decision — it would be easier if he just crushed your heart right now.

“I said I love you.”

He released his hold on you instantly as if you burned and you scoffed. You guessed you did — this Jungkook in front of you clearly couldn’t handle something like that. He was a fuckboy now.

You pushed him again and he didn’t resist, falling to the side and letting you pass. You started looking around — you couldn’t recall where you had thrown your purse.

“I said don’t joke around.”

His voice was barely above a whisper and you didn’t stop. You were throwing sofa pillows around, “And I said I’m not joking. And I don’t lie either, contrary to you.”

“You have no idea what you’re saying.”

You pulled your hair back with a sigh; it wasn’t on the couch. “You’re starting to sound like a broken record.” You continued looking around, maybe in the kitchen? “What does it matter anyway? I get it — why you lied. I was being emotional and you wanted an easy fuck.” You huffed; not there either. “You got it, so you want me to leave now, right? Don’t worry, I want to, I just can’t find—”

He roared and punched something that made the coat hanger fall to the floor. “You talk and talk and talk but you still don’t know what you’re fucking saying!”

You got over your shock quickly and threw your shoes on the floor, “It would help if you fucking talked instead of breaking the place!”

“I can’t fucking talk when you’re driving me insane!”

You scoffed, “Me? Maybe you are just insane.”

He stepped to you with a dangerous look, “Watch your mouth.”

“Why? What will you do?” You rolled your eyes when he only took a deep breath in response. When you looked back at him he was closer and you instantly tensed up, and not in a bad way. He was eying you in that way that had you crazy needy but you stood your ground. “You’re not touching me again.” Your lips pulled in contempt, “Not like you want to. No sloppy seconds, right? So surely no thirds or fourths or—”

He stepped forward, ready to grab you, and you gave him your most disgusted piercing look.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me, don’t even think about using me again.”

You were out of breath, spitting venomous words while your eyes were locked, but in an instant, something wet dripped down your cheeks. You breathed, and instantly you recognized the pain searing your heart. It hurt. It hurt too much.

Your sob had you sucking breaths anxiously and you gave him your back. You didn’t want him to see how much it hurt you.

“I’d never use you.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Because—” He heaved a deep breath. It was complicated and he was so conflicted he wanted to punch something again. But seeing your shoulders move as you contained your sobs, his mind cleared. “Because I wanted to be with you.”

“Right,” you chuckled despite the tears. “Wasn’t fucking in a dark alley enough? Why did you bring me here?”

“To be with you.”

“Say it properly. To fuck.” He didn’t answer and you sucked in a deep breath, “Or maybe… maybe something worse. Not just to use me, did you want to hurt me? Is this some sort of… vengeance or—?”

“No!” He raised his arms to your shoulders but he didn’t touch you. You didn’t want him to.

You grinned but it was painful, “Lying again? Fuck, I never knew you like this.”

“I’m not lying.” 

“Bullshit,” you almost laughed despite your crying and sniffling.

“It’s the truth.”

“Why should I believe you?”

He gritted his teeth behind you and gripped his hair in frustration. He was never the best at saying things, he always showed you better. He wished he could turn you around and get that stupid dress off you so he could cover you in his tee shirt again. He wished he could kiss your tears and hold you again like there wasn’t a mountain between you. He wished he could have you lying on his bed again saying those sweet things that shook him to his very core. He wished he could see your smile again as you drank your honey oat milk latte just the way you liked it because he made it for you. Fuck, he wanted that and so much more, but none of it would happen. He still hated you.

“Give me one good reason why you even talked to me back at the club,” you asked, more poised now that you had calmed your sobs and cleaned your cheeks. You turned to face him and he looked almost like he was in pain, but you only blinked your wet lashes. Your nose, eyes, and cheeks were still red but he knew you were crying, there was no point in hiding it.

“You looked beautiful.”

You scoffed, “Right… Beautiful enough to fuck easy, ri—?”

“Stop saying that!” Your assumptions were driving him crazy, but you were persistent.

“Why? Cause you can’t handle the truth?”

“Cause it’s fucking bullshit!” He smacked his fist on his palm, then opened both as if he could shake you to your senses, “You think fucking you is easy? You think wanting you and bringing you here was fucking easy? I gave in! I saw you, you said those things, and I had to have you!”

“You didn’t have to bring me here.”

“No, I didn’t!” He agreed with you and it made him swallow and take a breath from his shouting. “I did it for my own selfish reasons.”

“And what were those? If not to use me, not to hurt me or exact some sort of vengeance,” you enumerated with your fingers perhaps a bit pettily, but you wanted to understand. However, he didn’t seem interested in sharing — he had turned his back on you and stepped away to have space. “Then what for?”

He grunted and rubbed his face harshly before turning to face you, “Why do you complicate everything? I answered you already — to be with you. That’s all.”

You frowned and puffed; for some reason that answer just left you even more unsettled. “That doesn’t make any sense.” He threw his hands in the air and you insisted, “You wanted to be with me? Then why not let me finish blowing you?”

He scoffed and shook his head, “Thought you would have figured it out by now.”

Your frown deepened in anger, but it hit you. “Because… you didn’t want to use me?” His only response was a twitch of his eyebrows. “Then why not let me cum? When you ate me?”

He puffed a breath as his nostrils flared, but he still answered you, “Cause I was pissed.”

“Why?”

“Why?!” Your question made it worse. “Cause you spoke to me like I was nobody!”

Your chin dropped, “What?”

“You spoke like it could have been anyone else eating you and making you crazy and it made me want to tear you apart!”

You were shocked, just looking at him, and it infuriated him even more. He tried his best to keep his cool as he paced the living room — why were you making him feel inadequate? Like he was blowing something out of proportion when it meant so much to him?

“That's— I don't get it,” you tried, confused. “I wanted you to know how good you felt—”

“You called me baby!”

He was shouting again and you blinked, “So?”

“So?!” He kicked the back of his couch. “The most fucking generic term I’ve ever heard! Do you know how many people have called me that? Made me despise them every time!”

“But I've called you that before,” you pointed out, still confused. It was one of your nicknames for each other.

“You called me something else.”

His tone was suddenly sober and you instantly knew what he meant. “Kook.”

“Yes.”

He wouldn’t tell you how much he was hung up on it. He wouldn’t let anyone else call him that, he kicked out any women who tried, and just hearing it from your mouth now gave him goosebumps. It was who he was to you, who he wished he had been for his whole life.

You were just looking at each other while you recalled calling him ‘baby’ in the heat of your shared moments. You never meant it in a general way, you meant it endearingly. But you had called him ‘Kook’ earlier, and remembering it twisted your guts. You sighed and rubbed your eyes for a second — you had decided to crush your heart then and there. You weren’t leaving his place without bloodshed so there was no point in hiding.

“I was scared of calling you that,” you admitted, facing him again despite your fears. “I was scared of exposing myself like that.”

“Well, I did,” his grin was a sneer, but you couldn’t understand. Why would what you called him hurt him if he didn’t care? “So that was like a punch to my gut. Or maybe… maybe you didn't even notice that I—”

“Of course, I fucking noticed,” you blurted out, something akin to desperation on your features. “I noticed and it made me completely lose my mind!”

He leaned forward, gripping the couch’s back, “Not enough to expose yourself to me.”

“I was scared! You still hate me, I was—” Your own words hit you in realization, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. “I was scared.”

He scoffed, “Scared of what?”

“You know what,” you answered, uneasy.

“I do. See why you have no idea what you’re saying? You just blab and assume shit,” he gripped the leather couch and you thought for a moment he could have thrown it around if he wanted to. “The difference between you and me is that I knew who I was choosing.” His features hardened and you fought the urge to look small. “You said you wanted to do this and I took you.”

Your eyebrows twitched, “You’re trying to say I didn’t? Please,” you rolled your eyes. “Because I didn’t call you Kook sooner? You know better than that. I walked up to you, spoke to you, told you I wanted to be with you, came here with you, told you no one is like you, that I missed you, that no one makes me—” You huffed and bit your lip; you weren’t sure about saying any more than you already had.

His eyes were glistening but his grin was almost cruel. “You don’t look so scared now.”

You frowned for a moment before you raised your chin, “No, I guess I’m not. I was until you embraced me this morning and I thought—” Your lips twitched. “But that was fake,” his eyes snapped to yours and you stood still, “right? You lied. You never missed me, so what does it matter if you called me bubbles?” You scoffed but your eyes were filling with tears again, “Why call me that if you never meant it?” You shrugged, “I have nothing to fear anymore. It’s all fucked, I don’t think it can hurt more than this.”

His jaw was clenching hard while you spoke and he walked around. You thought he looked like a ticking timebomb with his biceps rhythmically reacting to his fists opening and closing.

“Well, I fucking wish it did,” he said. “It seems like nothing I do can hurt you, can it?”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m fucking serious!”

“Do I not look hurt to you?!”

“I want you to hurt at least a fraction of what it hurts me!” He punched the couch, but your watering eyes only hurt him more. “But all I managed to do was hurt myself even more!”

“You’re hurt?” You couldn’t hide your skepticism.

“What do you think?! Fuck, you’re so fucking selfish you can’t see anything in front of your nose!”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “Happens with liars. It’s hard to distinguish—”

“Shut up!” He turned to you and you squeezed your arms for comfort. “What does it matter if I missed you? If every fucking word out of my mouth was the truth and I called you bubbles because of what you fucking mean to me? Look at you!” You were shaking now with welled-up eyes. “Acting like a fucking abandoned puppy! You left!”

“What?”

“You left! You were the one who left!”

Your heart shook and you became pale, “That was— You mean—?”

“Yes!”

“But— You—” You were so confused. “You knew I’d leave!”

“What the fuck does that matter?! You said no and you left!”

Your heart instantly halted, “That’s— That’s something else entirely—”

“Yeah, right!” You shook with the venom in his voice. “I was ready, I made my choice, and you broke my heart!”

You were shaking and gripping your hands to soothe yourself, “I wasn’t ready.”

“You said no!”

His tone was accusatory and your chin trembled as you were swamped with old feelings and memories. 

Only this time, you took a deep breath and answered back, “Listen to yourself! That day I told you I was going to the US to work for a year and you asked me to marry you! Does that make sense?!”

He had paced to his desk and as soon as you finished, he grabbed his gaming chair and threw it to the ground.

“You said no! You could have said something else! You could have said not yet or let’s talk or— I don’t know, just anything else! But you said no!!”

“Well, fuck, what was I supposed to say?! I had that job opportunity and you were going too fast!”

He sneered, “Fast?”

“Yes, fast! We weren't together for even a year yet!”

“I don't care! I fucking knew I wanted to spend my life with you! And you said no!”

“I said I love you!”

He kicked the chair on the floor, “And it wasn't enough!”

“No, it wasn't!” You stepped forward, wanting to punch something yourself. “Clearly! You’re fucking mad I said no, but what about you?! You fucking dropped off the face of the earth! You knew the dates of my contract, I forwarded the flight information to you, and you never spoke to me again! You didn’t even say goodbye!”

“What goodbye?! What bigger goodbye do you need than rejecting me when I’m on my knees for you?!”

“Stop being so fucking self-centered!” He started laughing, but you were not done. “I said I loved you. I wanted to be with you and you threw a tantrum like a child!”

“A tantrum?” He was still laughing and you’d recognise that bitterness anywhere.

“Be honest,” you breathed. “Would you have come with me?”

His laughter died. “What?”

“You heard me. And if you couldn’t, would you have waited for me?”

His eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights and you let the tears fall from your eyes.

“I never got to ask,” you continued in the silence. “You never answered me again. I always thought that your not answering was your answer. That you never wanted to see me again because if I wouldn’t marry you like you wanted, then you wanted nothing to do with me.”

He finally breathed, “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” You smiled and cleaned your cheeks, “Then why is that the only thing you say? That I said no? I never meant no forever, I never meant that I wouldn’t in the future. But I needed that opportunity to build my career, I needed that sacrifice from you and you turned your back on me.”

“No, I—” His mouth was opening and closing, he couldn’t find the right words. “Because— Because I thought you wanted to just— To just leave me behind.”

“Behind? As if I wasn’t leaving my heart with you? Tell me, did you ever think about asking me? About talking to me?” His lips twitched in hesitation and your lips curved painfully, “Right.”

“I wanted to,” he admitted, but you shook your head in disbelief. “I wanted to but I felt broken. You left me and rejected a future with me, you didn’t want me. What point was there in reaching out to you?”

“I wish you had. Maybe it wouldn’t have worked, but a part of me likes to believe we would have made it. One year was a long time but not the end of the world. For you, I would have done it.”

You nodded and looked at his feet for a moment. None of you would ever know now, but you believed it. You were at peace with at least having voiced that to him.

You looked up at him and saw as clear as day how lost he was. He was gripping his hair with pain across his features, maybe something else. He was still shirtless in front of you, a Greek God in all his glory, yet your eyes couldn’t abandon the soft curls of his hair. Now that everything was out there, you were sort of melancholic. You’d miss him.

“Fuck,” he dragged in a grunt. “Is this what you wanted? To find me again and break me?”

You chuckled, “What the hell are you saying? I never thought I’d see you again. And if I did, I expected to find you married to the woman of your dreams.”

He groaned and rubbed his face before facing you, “You— You’re the woman of my dreams!”

Your lips trembled but you stayed quiet; you had no idea where any of that left you.

“I can’t believe this,” he let out, then scoffed. “No, I’m in too deep now. You could have reached out too. You could have told me all this and asked me before, but instead, you just turned and left. Because you didn’t want me.”

“I called you!”

“For like two days! How long do you think it took to heal my wounded heart?”

“I don’t know! From what I’ve heard, your heart has been more than comforted, you probably healed very fast!”

“Oh fuck off,” he spat with harsh eyes. You regretted letting those feelings surface, but it was too late. “You left me after rejecting me, I was free to do whatever I wanted and screw whoever I pleased.”

“You’re right, forget I said that.”

He laughed, “Nah, that’s just you. Worried about whether I’ve been well-fed or not. Why? Thought that would make it easier?”

“What?”

“I don’t know, to get me crazy again.”

You couldn’t help your lips pulling, “I did drive you crazy.” His eyebrow twitched over a dark gaze and you quickly sobered up. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” He could be spitting those words for all intents and purposes.

“No, I meant that after I called you, I took your silence as—”

“No, no, fuck that. Excuses, all of it. You saw me on my knees and butchered my heart, then left days later for another country. If you cared, you would have done more.”

“You act as if you don’t have arms and legs yourself.”

“And you act like a damsel in distress when you’re anything but,” he had neared you now and you sobered up. “I still hate you, you know.”

Your lips trembled and you looked down with a sour smile. You did realize it, but it didn’t make it any easier. “I know.”

You were focused on mapping your conversation and seeing if there was anything you could tell him that could clarify things when he scoffed.

“No, scratch that.” You looked up and saw him running his hand through his hair. “I fucking hate you and the way you just tried to bring me down to my knees again.”

“I didn’t—!”

“I hate that I brought you here 'cause I wanted to see you here, in my home, as if that could bring back what we once were. I hate that I gave you what you wanted even if it hurt. I hate that I called you bubbles as if you’re still that person. I hate— I fucking hate you, I can’t—”

His voice broke down but you had already heard too much. You couldn’t face him anymore, you were hiding under your hand as your spirit drained in the form of tears.

“I understand.” Your sight was blurry but you knew the way out. You stepped around him, “I’ll leave—”

You weren’t expecting him to grab you and crash his mouth into yours, but you didn’t fight him. You let him kiss you desperately and did the same all while the tears kept streaming down your face.

“Don’t fucking leave,” he whispered to your lips, pressing his forehead to yours. “I can’t stand the thought of you walking out. Not again.”

Your cry was uncontrollable, “But you hate me.”

His hands were firm around your head, not letting you move away, and the only sound you both could hear was you trying to control your sobs. It broke him to see you cry, it always did. He didn’t know what to do. No matter how hard he tried, there was this poison inside him that gushed out every time. It was all breaking apart again, and he wanted everything to go to hell, but looking at you, he knew that wasn’t true.

You sniffled, “If you hate me and I love you then we're not on the same page.”

His heart shook like his world could crumble at any moment. “Don't leave.”

“I have to,” you grabbed his arms and accepted it. “So you can find the woman of your dreams.”

“You’re the woman of my dreams.”

You chuckled sadly, “You hate me, Kook. You’ll find someone better, trust me.”

“No, I don’t want anyone else.”

You brushed his cheek, committing that sweet touch to memory. “You’ll be happy. It’s okay.”

“No,” he gripped you firmly, wrapping his arms around your waist instead. “Don’t leave.”

“Why would I stay?”

“Because I don’t hate you. I can’t,” his voice trembled with tears that didn’t flow down his cheeks, but down yours. “I hate myself for not being able to, for pretending, for even trying when I’m so—”

His voice blocked and you reached for him. “Say it… Please say it, don’t hold back,” your plea shook in your voice and you gripped his shoulders tighter. “If you don’t say it, then I won't know what to believe anymore—”

“Fuck,” he closed his eyes, fighting to the last moment all those conflicting emotions within him. But then you nuzzled his nose, holding him closer. Waiting. You weren’t leaving this time until everything was said and done, and he almost burst it out. “I can’t. I can’t hate you, I love you. I could never forget you but you left me behind and I fucking hated everything. Because I love you, because I lost you, because I was lost and I still am. What the fuck do I do?”

“I’m here.”

“No, you’re not.” He moved away and forced himself to take a deep breath. He turned to you, “You’ll walk out again. I fucked up. We fucked up, but I fucked up. Right? I spent a year trying to hate you, loathing myself for not being good enough. For being so sure you were the one while you discarded me so easily like I was worthless, but I never bothered to hear your side. I never bothered to ask you. You broke my heart… but I broke yours too.”

Your chin was trembling, but you didn’t near him. He seemed to need the space.

“I’m sorry.” He hid his face at your words and your tears treaded down again. “I’m so sorry if I hurt you, I was stupid and immature, and you’re right. I knew my heart was staying here with you, I should have tried to reach out and make it clearer. I knew I hurt you, and after I left, I knew you'd hate me. I should have gotten over myself and told you how I felt anyway. Then maybe I wouldn’t have tried to look for you in everyone else or stayed hung up on thoughts of you and—” He chuckled but it was laced with pain and you shook your hands, “No, I’m not blaming you!”

“I know,” he revealed his face, with red swollen eyes, and wet cheeks. “I’m blaming myself. I spent so long trying to hate you, blaming you for everything under the sun in stupid attempts to make it hurt less. I’m an idiot. And an asshole. Look at how I treated you. I can’t face you without hating my fucking stupidity—”

“Ours,” you stepped forward, hesitant to touch him but with your hands raised nonetheless. “If you want to hate something, then—”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you in, “I won’t pretend to hate you anymore.”

“Then don’t hate yourself either,” you asked as he took your hand to his lips.

“I’ll try… since it’s you asking.”

Your lips trembled into a smile at the way he was gently brushing his lips to your hand. “I’m happy we talked about it. I’m happy to hear that you still have feelings for me though I wouldn’t want to assume—”

“Assume.”

You stayed quiet, hesitantly looking into his brown eyes as he sprinkled kisses on your knuckles.

“Jungkook—”

“Assume, bubbles.” You pressed your trembling lips and he brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers, “Assume that I love you and don’t want you to leave.”

Your heart was shaking; you were hoping, but— “Are you sure?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, “I’m sure. I just don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t want to hurt you, but there’s so much we need to talk about.”

His eyes were pleading and you squeezed his hand, “If you could forgive me, that would be a great start.”

He sighed, “I don’t think that’s the problem.”

“Yourself?”

“Slightly more complicated.”

You smiled, “Same.” You stayed quiet just looking at each other when you decided to tell him, “I wish we could… forgive our mistakes and restart. We could get to know each other again. See if… If it would work.”

“You don’t think it would?”

You supported his hand on your cheek, “I think we still love each other.” He held your gaze and you felt your cheeks burning under his touch, “But maybe that also means it will be difficult to heal our wounds.”

He nodded calmly, observing your face. “Do you… hate me? For what I did? For never replying to you or fighting for you.”

“No,” you instantly reassured him. “I thought you made a decision and that you wanted to move on from me. That’s a rejection, but that's life. You didn’t cheat or lie or anything like that.”

He sighed, “That’s true… maybe that’s why I could never truly hate you either.”

You couldn’t help a smile, “We… We’re both idiots.”

He wrapped his arm around your waist closer, “A mistake. It was all a mistake.” He pursed his lips for a moment, then brushed your hair gently behind your ear, “Your ‘no’... you never meant forever?”

You grinned, “No. Though I don't need a ring around my finger to know who I belong to. Do you?”

“Who do you belong to?”

You smirked playfully, “I think you know him.”

He sighed and let you brush your fingers around his neck in an attempt to tickle him before lacing your arms around his neck.

“I would have waited,” he finally said, seeing closely how your smile wavered and your eyes filled with tears. “I couldn’t drop everything to go with you, but I would have definitely made it work and visited you whenever I could.”

Your lips trembled and you tried to contain your cry, but your tears won. He pulled you to hide in the crook of his neck and you squeezed him inside your arms.

“Are you… going back?” He realized he didn’t know. “Or are you staying? In Seoul?”

“I got a position here, I’m starting next month.”

He sighed in relief. “I want to try,” his voice was close as he supported your head and leaned over your ear. “Us. I want to try.”

Shivers ran down your spine as you pressed him to you. “Me too.”

Heavenly, Part One

Dark!Steve x Reader

Notes: This is my first Steve fic since I’m more of a Bucky girl myself. This takes place after Endgame, but whenever he returned the Stones, he decided to come back instead of staying with Peggy. Also, he looks like Nomad!Steve. I’m not even sure if anyone will see this, but if you’ve found this, congratulations. I originally wanted to just make this a oneshot, but I just have too much inspiration. I hope that those of you who read enjoy. 

Warnings: Honestly? Nothing in this part. Steve just being a tad bit creepy.

Word Count: 2,001

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loom bracelets - l.l

pairing: luna lovegood x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, loom bracelets

fandom: harry potter

summary: read the prompt besties,

note: i gave luna they/them pronouns because in my head luna is queer-

prompt: making loom bracelets with luna

taglist

masterlist

“Sweetie, can I have the pink elastics?”

You nodded and passed them the pink loom elastics, closing the box after passing it.

“I’m done Luns!” You exclaimed, giving them the purple and blue bracelet.

They looked at it in wonder, turning their wrist to look at the whole thing.

“I love it sweetie! So pretty, we should make matching ones!” Luna replied shaking your shoulder.

You chuckled, looking at Luna. “Luns, we are making matching bracelets.”

“Oh,” She said, taking their hand off your shoulder. “Well that's nice!”

taglist:

general: @o-rion-sta-r @unedibledaisyduck @slut4drvc0 @just-a-smol-spoon

harry potter: @l0vely-lupin @myalupinblack @o-rion-sta-r @wolfstar-lb @pottahishotasf

My Writes

Adult / Mature Content. 🔞

Please note that all my works have named OCs. I do not write 'Y/N' or 'x Reader' fics (just a personal writing preference).

Click on below links for more info about each work (all posted on AO3).

Peonies in the Abyss. - WIP. Series. Spy / Secret Agent AU. Explicit smut and violence.

Red, Green, and Gold. - Completed. Holiday / Christmas fic. Explicit smut.

2! 3! 4?: Completed. PWP / Threesome drabble. Roommates AU. Explicit smut.

When We Were... Us. - Completed. Series. Arranged Marriage AU. Explicit smut.

All Rights Reserved.

Recently completed: When We Were... Us.

My Writes

Adult / Mature Content. 🔞

Please note that all my works have named OCs. I do not write 'Y/N' or 'x Reader' fics (just a personal writing preference).

Click on below links for more info about each work.

Peonies in the Abyss. - WIP. Series. Spy / Secret Agent AU. Explicit smut and violence.

Red, Green, and Gold. - Completed. Holiday / Christmas fic. Explicit smut. On AO3 and Wattpad.

2! 3! 4?: Completed. PWP / Threesome drabble. Roommates AU. Explicit smut.

When We Were... Us. - Completed. Series. Arranged Marriage AU. Explicit smut.

All Rights Reserved.

December = Red, Green, and Gold time...

My Writes

Adult / Mature Content. 🔞

Please note that all my works have named OCs. I do not write 'Y/N' or 'x Reader' fics (just a personal writing preference).

Click on below links for more info about each work.

Peonies in the Abyss. - WIP. Series. Spy / Secret Agent AU. Explicit smut and violence.

Red, Green, and Gold. - Completed. Holiday / Christmas fic. Explicit smut. On AO3 and Wattpad.

2! 3! 4?: Completed. PWP / Threesome drabble. Roommates AU. Explicit smut.

When We Were... Us. - Completed. Series. Arranged Marriage AU. Explicit smut.

All Rights Reserved.

Sleepy Decisions

Levi/Reader

Coffee Shop AU

Content: Bad examples of a sleeping schedule, no use of y/n, light teasing, unresolved tension, interrupted, nothing explicit, more tension, what is probably an unrealistic representation of anything coffee shop related, not beta read.

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It was still the middle of your shift, but you were dead tired. Turns out, deep cleaning your house, spontaneously hanging out friends, and staying up till 1am scrolling through whatever could entertain you was a bad idea. You knew you should have skipped the cleaning.

In your daze you hadn't even realized that you overfilled the drink you were making. It was now overflowing and staining your apron. Just barely missing the tips of your fingers as you dropped the cup into the drain and hurried to shut off the machine. Great.

"Are you going to struggle with the rest of our customers or can you pull it together? "

You rolled your eyes, shutting off the machine "Insightful as always Levi. It's my own drink anyway." You gestured to the empty shop "No one else to serve out there, basically a wasteland. I wouldn't dare encroach on your coffee making kingdom otherwise." You said with a dramatic flare to your voice, flicking your hand in his general direction.

He glared

"Oh come on Levi! It's one cup. I just need a little pick me up.  "

It was true, the amount of customers tended to hit a snag around this time of day. Perfect for an unofficial and unapproved break.

"Funny, I'm sure I've heard those exact words from a drug addict. There is a reason I don't let you back here. " He was now standing beside you with a towel, reaching into your space to clean the spilt coffee that hadn't made it into the drain.

"So dramatic" you groaned.

You watched as his arms moved to clean up the liquid, muscles moving in tandem with each other. His hair, which typically fell just over his ears, was now brushing across the front of his face. Such small details that should mean nothing yet never failed to send butterflies erupting in your stomach. You could hear him muttering under his breath, something about "-always having to clean up after you" and "Take better fucking care of yourself, could've been burned. "

Maybe it was your sleep-addled brain that caused you to reach out, or maybe it was shear stupidity, but either way, you found your hand drifting toward the distracted Levi.

Catching the movement in the corner of his eye, he stopped whipping up the mess and turned to you, curiously. Making eye contact, only breaking for quick glances at your slowly approaching hand. You felt drawn to Levi, as if you were attached to strings, forever pulling you toward him. Was it just you or are you closer than you were a few seconds ago?

His throat bobbed as you moved closer, he could feel your gaze burning into his skin. It's not that you'd never stared at him before. In fact he's caught you staring multiple times! It usually ended with some lighthearted banter and teasing, then back to work.

He could usually shake off the flush that your gaze brought on, but this time, he felt his body grow hot all over, struggling to force down the heat that was now beginning to take over his ears.

Your hand moved past his cheek and behind his ear, bringing a lock of hair with it and coming to a rest at his jaw. You let out a soft and slightly delirious chuckle, "You know Levi, you're really pretty" you whispered, as if a rise in volume would shatter the atmosphere between the two of you.

He was no longer struggling to keep down his blush, because it was now in full force. Completely caught off guard by your compliment, all he could respond with was some weird, strained sound that came from the back of his throat, although he tried his best to cut that off as soon as it started. Just as he was about to break away, he noticed the droopiness of your eyes and how unfocused they looked, and sighed.

He relaxed his posture slightly, now leaning against the counter behind him. "You need to stop staying up so late. It's making you delusional" he rolled his eyes finally breaking eye contact.

"Well actually, " you responded with a casual air to your voice. "science—the internet—says that geniuses tend to say up later than the average person"

"Actual science says sleep deprivation causes hallucinations" He crossed his arms, as if to put a barrier between the two of you.

"Those are some big words Levi, and I'm not exactly in the right state of mind to even pretend I heard them right"

"Go.To.Sleep." He groaned.

"Ya'know-" You placed your hands on either side of him, putting you weight on the counter "that's real funny coming from you Mr. Eye bags." You leaned closer.

Fuck. He should have broke away when he had the chance.

"I think I remember saying something similar a few weeks ago. Along the lines of 'One of these days you'll drop dead in the back room and I'll have to deal with the customers all on my own.' Does that sound about right?"

He cleared his throat, steadying his voice "Which was fucking stupid because I barely even interact with customers as is. Would barely change a thing." He said, tone still low, the tension still palpable between the two of you.

"Aw! But who would make sure I don't give myself third-degree burns?" You were closer now. Levi was having a hard time focusing, what with your face so close to his. He was trying, and failing, to ignore how well you bodies fit together, or how close your body was to his at all.

Meanwhile, you were also having quite a hard time focusing. You could feel his breath with how close you were. Watched as his eyes unconsciously flitted between your gaze and your lips. Your eyes scanned over his normally pale skin. Over his cheeks, which were currently a beautiful shade of red, over his dark eyelashes that seemed to flutter when he blinked.

You moved your hand to his chin and leaned in closer. Noses now brushing against eachother, prompting him to uncross his arms and place a hand on your shoulder, the other on the back of your neck. You responded in kind, moving your free hand to his waist, both you and Levi closing your eyes in anticipation of what would come next.

Ding

You were both interrupted by the bell from the front door of the cafe. Sighing, you began to move toward the front counter but were pulled back by a hand on your arm.

"They can wait 10 seconds" Clearly irritated by the interruption, he attempted to direct you back toward his lips. You stopped him, placing your right hand over his mouth.

Leaning closer, you moved passed his cheek, your breath tickling his ear. His grip or your arm tightened slightly, breathing heavily.

"If I were to kiss you right now I wouldn't be stopping anytime soon" You pressed your lips just under his ear, causing Levi to breathe in sharply. You pressed your forehead against his and smiled before withdrawing from his arms to tend to the awaiting customer. Leaving a flustered Levi in the back.

fashion designer argenti x gn! reader [headcanons]

no one asked for this and no one knows who i am . i am okay with simply being an aspiring writing novice you will pass by

i love fashion (however i don’t actually know much about it) and i love argenti, i hope i do him justice (please call me out for mischaracterization …) ; cringe alert

𝜗𝜚 — would adore vintage designs. he totally has old magazines and cutouts and takes inspo from those sewing guides (yk the ones that are great for pose references??? does anyone know what i mean) , i think he’d love mixing and matching different textures and whatnot (this is not me expressing my hatred for that fugly modern stuff that’s impossible to function in with all the weird ass shapes)

𝜗𝜚 — your free tailor !!! not only does he design, but he creates, and that means he could totally help cinch that shirt that looks great but is just a bit too big on you. perhaps he’d even add a few of his own touches, with unique buttons and a ruffle here or there!

𝜗𝜚 — would always end up drawing you as his model in his sketches ; none of those faceless baldies, just you, you, you. you’re beautiful and he makes sure you know that whenever he shows his latest design.

𝜗𝜚 — i think he’d dabble a little bit in either hair or makeup as well ; and again, you’re his model (even if he can’t do much with ur hair 4 any short haired homies)

🌹🌟 — sorry it’s so short, mayhaps i’ll add more later, i just wanted to post something :3 have a good day / noon / night !!!

dumb boys, bad decisions, and clubs

hi!! this is part of my yamaguchi centric fanfic, it’s not finished but there will be updates!

THIS IS A RARE PAIR POLY FIC!!

WARNING!!! NSFW themes and descriptions of infidelity, panic attacks, and BAD coping mechanisms (don’t do anything tadashi does)

word count: 11,663

parings : tsukishima kei x yamaguchi tadashi, oikawa tooru x tershima yuuji x kuroo tetsurou x yamaguchi tadashi, tsukishima kei x oc

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DESCRIPTION:

Yamaguchi Tadashi has it all: a full ride to his top college plus a sports scholarship, captain of his high school volleyball club, straight A’s, and the perfect boyfriend.

So when he sees the new first year manager on her knees between his boyfriend’s legs, he does what any sane person would do.

He fucks some of his old volleyball rivals.

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NSFW warnings: infidelity, oral sex, foursome (mxmxmxm), fingering, anal sex, dom/sub dynamics, hair pulling, dacryphilia, overstimulation, everyone but tadashi is a switch, restraints, multiple orgasms, rough sex

tadashi is of legal age, just not of legal drinking age

hope you enjoy!!

Wind sifts in and out of the open gymnasium. Various pairs of volleyball shoes squeak and scuff up the worn wooden floor. A soft breeze briefly cools off the red-faced teenagers practicing hard inside.

If one were to glance into the building, one would see fifteen high school boys practicing their hardest, bodies being pushed to their limits. After all, competition season is only a few months away and they are going to nationals this year.

"Shoyo, here!" A loud and masculine voice yells out.

"On it!" With a quick movement, the boy sprints across the court only to slam his hand against the ball arcing through the air. He hits it with a scary kind of precision that causes the first years on the other side of the net to cower at the fear of being hit.

"Fuck yeah!" Hinata yells out at his victory with red cheeks and a heaving chest. Kageyama gives the boy a hard and enthusiastic high-five in congratulations.

"How was that, captain?"

Yamaguchi smiles at his friend's bond, "Amazing! Your freak set is getting freakier by the year!" He compliments.

The freckled boy (more like man) walks over to the basket full of volleyballs and grabs one from the pile. His kouhais across the court gulp, they know what's coming, it happens every practice.

Standing in the middle of the court, just behind the boundary line, Tadashi lets out a deep breath. He spins the ball in his hands once, twice, a final time. With a hefty toss, the ball ascends into the air and Yamaguchi runs toward it, eyes intense and focused.

Almost.

Almost.

Now!

As the ball hits its crest, he swings his right arm back expertly and palms the volleyball perfectly. He can practically smell the fear that radiates from the first years that cower on the other side of the net. The ball goes sailing past the net and the third-year holds his breath, hoping that the serve made it in. It starts to arc toward one of the first years near the corner of the court and Tadashi lets out a "Woohoo!!" at his almost perfect jump float serve.

The kids on the other side scramble to receive the ball. Number 3, a tall kid named Nirai Kenji (who reminds Yamaguchi a little bit too much of his former teammate Azumane Asahi) dives for the ball, his forearms make contact but the force of the spin causes the ball to shoot toward another teammate who ducks in surprise while shrieking like a goose. Tadashi smiles.

He prides himself on his serves and he's certainly gotten better since his first year. Tadashi's strength lies not in the power of his serves, but in the precision and technique. He prefers to spend hours honing his skill than going to the gym to gain muscles for force.

"Wooo!! Nice goin' cap'n!" Shoyo yells out, clapping his hands together. Tadashi bashly smiles at the praise, not used to the attention even while being the team captain.

He huffs happily and walks over to pick up another ball, “we’re doing this until one of you receives it back to me!” The first years groaned in response. Tadashi, Shoyo, and Tobio just laugh at the newbies’ mild annoyance. Even Hitoka chuckles at them.

While getting ready to set up his nth serve of the day, Tadashi spots a blonde head of hair coming through the door, though he almost misses the short first year nervously trailing behind him. Tadashi narrows his eyes slightly.

“Kei! You asshole, where have you been? Practice is halfway over already,” the captain questions his boyfriend. Tsukki just tuts at him.

“Mr. Nakamoto held me back, had to talk to me about university bullshit.” Yamaguchi narrows his eyes slightly, ’that shouldn’t take an hour and a half…’

Tadashi attempts to shrug it off but then remembers that all of the third years in the volleyball club had met with the counselors at the same time to prevent a missed practice. “Wait, but didn’t you-“

“Yo beanpole, get your ass over here and block for us,” Shoyo yells at Tsukki, eager to work on his precision spikes. Kei walks over to the eager ginger and adjusts his sports glasses. Even after all these years of knowing Kei and playing volleyball with him, Tadashi can’t help but snicker at the sports glasses. They make Kei look like a toddler who just got their first pair of glasses.

He sighs in response to his boyfriend’s aloof demeanor, having thought that the two of them had gotten past that wall of Tsukishima’s vulnerability. Upset at the interruption of Shoyo’s eagerness to practice, Tadashi huffs and walks back over to the cart full of volleyballs. A feeling of uneasiness settles in his gut, and he attempts to refocus his mind by hitting a multitude of difficult serves, but he just can’t get rid of that gruelingly gross feeling.

A few more hours of practice go by and at this point, Tadashi can’t feel the sting on his numbingly red hands. With sweat-soaked hair and clothes, he meanders his way over to the bench and grabs his dedicated towel.

He wipes himself off and grabs his icy cold water bottle, the condensation bringing back the stinging feeling that had left his hands hours ago. He lets his body relax into the cool bench as the metal creaks slightly underneath his weight. His shoulders sag down as he breathes heavily through open-mouthed pants.

Even after hours of grueling practice, Tadashi just can’t get Kei off of his mind, and it’s not for the normal hot boyfriend plus horny teenage boy reasons.

Something about him has been seeming off the past few weeks, maybe even a month now. He's been distant, cold, and dismissive. Tadashi haasn’t seen Kei like this since they were in middle school and Tadashi had his first kiss with an upperclassman right when Kei had planned to confess.

Not to mention the fact that Tadashi hasn’t had a good dicking since the start of April and it’s already halfway through June.

Being a third-year high school student guarantees a busy schedule, especially when you’re involved in clubs but Tadashi knows the ins and outs of Kei’s schedule. Suddenly, all of his free time seems to become preoccupied with everything but his needy and attractive volleyball captain of a boyfriend. Tadashi is just so entirely over it.

Taking another swig from his water bottle, Tadashi can see Tobio and Shoyo messing around in the corner. Sweaty, smiling faces entirely too close together and hands wandering to places that are not acceptable for out in the open.

He lets out a small frustrated puff, fully knowing that once practice is over the disgustingly cute couple will high-tail it out of the gym and straight to Tobio’s empty house where they will probably only resurface to the outside world to get water and food. And maybe a shower.

Tadashi decides that he’s going to use their tiny little horny brains to his advantage. Clapping his hands together loudly to draw everyone’s attention to him, he stands up to face the rest of the Karasuno Volleyball Club. His eyes scan the room and he quickly notes in his head that he doesn’t see his boyfriend in the crowd of sweaty teenagers.

“Alright! Practice for today is over and because I am your incredibly gracious captain, none of you have to stay after to clean!” He announces, throwing his arms out like the ringleader of a circus.

A chorus of excited hoots and hollers follow his announcement as all of his underclassmen scramble to grab their stuff. They sprint off to the locker room, eager to change out of their sweaty practice clothes and hang out for the rest of the night.

“Enjoy your freedom of a Friday night!” Tadashi calls after the gaggle of teenage boys.

Once the gym has cleared out for the most part, Tadashi walks to the volleyball cart and wheels it around the gym. He picks up stray volleyball after stray volleyball and tosses them into the bin. As he cleans, his teammates start to file out of the locker room. He says his goodbyes to all of them and makes sure to poke fun at the first years as they leave.

Hitoka finishes packing up her notes from practice and waves goodbye to Tadashi, “Goodnight Tada-kun! Have a good weekend.”

Tadashi waves back at her with a smile. Ever since she started dating Kiyoko there has been a shift in her demeanor. Hitoka has always been kind and bubbly, but even more so now. Once he’s finished picking up the volleyballs and the gym has cleared out for the night, Tadashi starts to wheel the ball cart over to the storage room doors.

“Well, looks like it’s just you and me Kei,” he turns to his side, expecting the tall teen to be near the entrance to the locker room but sees no evidence of him. Tadashi does a slow spin and scans his surroundings, concluding that he’s been left alone for the night.

“Goddammit!” He mutters under his breath, now left to clean up the mess by himself. Tadashi thought that at least Kei would stay back like they did last year. Cleaning time was more than just mopping on most days. He goes to his pocket to grab the storage room key when he notices the door is open, Weird. I thought I locked it up earlier.

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud moan coming from the closet. A moan he knows the sound of like he knows the back of his hand. His cheeks flush a brilliant pink as his heartbeat suddenly speeds up. With his shorts a little tighter than they were five minutes ago, Tadashi pushes the door open with a dopey smile, “Wow Kei-chan, couldn’t wait until we got home, huh?”

The third year is stopped dead in his tracks as he sees the first-year manager, Jinso Sidero, on her knees between Kei’s thighs, his shorts down with one hand tangled in her brown hair and the other tugging on her loosened uniform bow. Her skirt is pulled up over her hips, exposing her lacy underwear and her shirt and school blazer are strewn across the floor a few feet away from the couple.

Tadashi’s eyes widen as he looks at Kei, whose face displays a show of perfect, cheating pleasure. Kei opens his eyes to see his boyfriend and jumps, causing the girl sucking him off to gag at the sudden pressure. She makes a noise that can be interpreted as “What?”

“Shit!” Kei yells out as he makes eye contact with the shorter man.

“What the fuck?” Tadashi stumbles back into the door, his weight causing the door to swing back. The lack of backing causes him to fall sprawled out onto the gymnasium floor. Tears immediately spring up and his stomach lurches, absolutely nauseated. Without missing a beat, he scrambles up, runs to grab his bag, and sprints out of the gym.

Tadashi doesn’t look back.

Desperate, Kei tries to awkwardly run after him, shorts and boxers now pulled up. He gives up once he realizes that Tadashi is long gone.

“Fuck!” This is his first thought once he’s processed what happened. The frustrated blonde pulls at his hair and curses again. He looks to Sidero and without a beat, picks up her clothing, aggressively before haphazardly dressing her, and unceremoniously shoving her out of the storage closet.

“Babe wha-” the door slams shut before Sidero can finish her sentence. Kei slides down the other side of the door with his fists bunching up the fabric of his shorts so hard that his knuckles turn white.

He never planned for Tadashi to find out…

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.

.

Tadashi’s chest is tight and it feels like a million bricks are being smashed into his head. His feet feel like they’re on fire but he pays hardly any attention to the gnawing pain. The brisk summer night kisses his face as the rushing wind dries the tears rolling down his cheeks.

By the time he’s reached his front door, Tadashi can’t breathe. He attempts to take huge, gasping breaths but the exhales just come out as broken sobs. He can barely see through the tears and his nose is clogged with snot. He breathes as violently as the rushing thoughts come in and out of his head.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? What just happened? Was Kei really cheating on me? Of course he was, look at what they were doing you fuckwad!

His hands shake harshly as he fumbles with the keys in front of him, fingers sweaty and vision blurred. It takes him three tries before he’s finally able to find the right key and open the front door. Once inside, his body works on autopilot while his brain goes a million miles a minute.

Was I not good enough? Did I not satisfy him? Did he leave me because he can’t deal with someone like me? Of course he chose her, just look at her. Was I that bad? Why wasn’t I good enough?!

He stumbles his way upstairs, tripping up the steps and slamming into the wall on the way up. Both his backpack and his volleyball bag slide down his shoulders and off his arms. A loud thwump is registered in the back of Tadashi’s mind as the bags slump down the stairs, articles of clothes slip out of the half-zipped pratice bag.

Grappling with the handle on his bedroom door, he slams it shut behind him, thankful that his parents are out for the weekend. Bleary-eyed and stumbling, he makes it to the ensuite and practically wipes the countertop clean in the search for his Atarax. As soon as he spots the familiar orange bottle, he swipes it and begins the struggle to open it.

“Stupid fucking child safety caps!”

He’s just about to open to orange pill bottle when the familiar feeling of bile rushing up into his throat causes him to drop the medicine and toss himself over the open toilet bowl.

Scorching tears run down his face as everything he ate comes up until it’s nothing but stomach acid and spit. His shoulders shake with how violent the heaving is and his fingers ache from his vice-like grip on the porcelain toilet. Once he’s sure that everything has been emptied and that gut-wrenching feeling has finally subsided, he reaches up a shaky hand to flush the toilet.

Tadashi wipes his mouth and sits back on his knees before immediately grabbing and opening the rattling bottle of meds. Once the trusty green pills are in his hand, he collapses to the floor in a sobbing heap and dry swallows five of them. Four more than he needs.

The gross taste of slightly dissolved medicine sits unpleasantly on his tongue as Tadashi drags himself to the edge of the alcove before using all his might to turn on the cold water. He heaves himself up over the side of the tub and flops down into it.

Icy droplets of freezing cold water soak through his hair, shorts, and t-shirt, while burning hot tears soak the skin of his face and hands. His body shakes severely, and loud sobs echo throughout the shower as he grips his hair hard enough to rip it out. With white knuckles and red eyes, he lays down on his side and shivers.

Tadashi makes no moves to change the temperature of the water.

All he thinks about is what he’d done wrong, what he had done to deserve this. Memories circle through his mind, seven years' worth of friendship and five of which worth of dating washed down the drain.

Tadashi thought they would move in together after high school. That they’d get a house together and even have kids. That they would grow old together. They simply were just meant to be. Call him naive but Tadashi thought that his first love would be the love of his life. Even the first time they met was like something out of a television show or a movie.

Little Tadashi was being picked on by some bigger kids due to his small size and shy nature. They’d been shoving poor ten-year-old Tadashi around, rummaging through his bookbag and making fun of his cute drawings and doodles, even going so far as to tell him he’d never be able to play volleyball if he kept being small like that (though it’s not like Tadashi really had any control over when and how tall he grew...)

Tears had just started to spill from the young boy’s eyes when he heard an annoyed voice ‘tch’ at the sight.

“Can’t you guys pick on someone your own size? I mean, come on now. It’s pathetic.” Tadashi looked up to see a tall blonde-haired boy with the thickest glasses he’d ever seen looming over him and his bullies. His eyes widen exponentially at the sight of this new person, who he immediately recognizes as the tall scary boy from his class.

On the first day of school, Tadashi was instantly terrified of him as he was all of four foot nothing whilst Tsukki had been almost five feet tall already. While his brain processed what had come out of Tsukki’s mouth, the three boys that had been beating on him immediately stiffened up and ran off with nothing more than a measly squeal. Once sure that his tormenters were long gone, Tadashi calmly stood up, gathered his things, and walked over to the (even then) tall blonde boy.

“Thank you so much!” He yells as he bends at the waist, eyes closed tight and arms by his side. He stays that way until he hears a small “tch.”

“Get up. You don’t need to thank me. Next time, do it yourself,” the taller rudely tells Tadashi off with a roll of his eyes and turns to start walking away.

Noticing the white tennis shoes leave his vision, Tadashi straightens up and scrambles after the blonde. He runs ahead of him and stops in front of him, panting slightly.

“What’s…what’s your name?” Tadashi manages to puff out, hands resting on his knees as he attempts to catch his breath. A silent moment passes between them and as the silence continues to fill the air, a knot of anxiousness starts growing in Tadashi’s stomach at the lack of an answer.

Nervous, he stood back up to his full height again and stared directly into those smart yellow eyes.

“Tsukishima Kei,” the little elementary-aged Tsukki answered him with an aloof expression.

“I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi,” he smiled back, eyes full of happiness.

From then on, the two had been entirely inseparable. The boys spent almost every single waking moment together. They had countless sleepovers, video game sessions, playful volleyball matches, and smiles.

By the time they’d hit middle school, the dynamic between the two shifted, to what, neither knew at the time. Gone were the small smiles and days of personal space. The two boys would stare at each other whenever they thought the other wasn’t looking, eyes full of want and love. Each of them found every single excuse to touch each other, whether it was a brush of the fingers, a small kick, or even the occasional full-blown hug.

Tadashi was twelve years old when he realized that he liked boys. Terrified and scared, he went to his best friend with tears in his eyes and shaking hands with the expectation that Tsukki would beat him up and call him a fairy or even a slur.

Instead, he got unconditional love and support along with the confession that Tsukki was actually gay as well. With that knowledge, Yamaguchi finally spilled to Tsukki that he had a huge crush on their upperclassman and volleyball club captain, Kazuhira Hayate.

The day that Yamaguchi got his first kiss from Kazuhira was the day that he and Tsukishima started dating. Tsukki walked briskly to the gymnasium, a letter in a pink envelope grasped so tightly in his left hand that the paper threatened to rip, and a bouquet of Tadashi’s favourite flower and walked in on Yamaguchi getting his first kiss. Tsukki felt so betrayed and upset that he threw the beautiful bouquet of pink camellias to the ground with a sharp ‘thwap!’ The pink letter followed soon thereafter.

Startled by the sound, Tadashi broke from the kiss and turned to see Kei running hurriedly out of the classroom, hands wiping his face as the dam of tears broke. Without another thought, Tadashi picked up the forgotten items and sprinted behind his best friend.

Once Tadashi had finally caught up with Kei, he could see the taller boy’s puffy eyes and red nose clearly, he could even see the little tears that threatened to spill over. Arguing and yelling ensued afterward until finally, finally, Kei grabbed the letter he’d written. He ripped it open without remorse and read it, bleary-eyed and embarrassed. It was then that they had their first kiss together and it marked the beginning of a relationship that Tadashi thought would last until the stars collided.

How naive he was, Tadashi can’t help but ponder over the innocence of their beginning. It certainly feels like the stars collided now. As if the entire universe was pulling the Earth closer and closer to the Sun until everything was wiped out in a brilliant display of white light.

He struggles to sit up in the tub. With his entire body shaking from the cold and the panic running through his system, it’s difficult to do anything. With tremoring hands, he reaches over and turns off the water but makes no moves to leave the tub.

He just sits there.

Crying.

By the time he’s calmed himself down enough to leave the cold safety of the bathtub, the window outside tells him that the sun has set. It's been at least an hour and a half since he caught his (assumingly now ex) boyfriend getting sucked off by what Yamaguchi used to think was the innocent new first-year manager.

He wants to forget. Tadashi wants to take out his brain and cut away the memory of that experience and throw it straight into the garbage disposal.

But, he can’t do that. He can, however, do the next best thing.

It’s good that he still has the fake ID that Shoyo made him get.

Head still buzzing, Tadashi strips off the soaking wet clothes and throws them into a plopping, sopping wet pile on the bathroom tile. He turns the shower back on and washes away his anxiety, now coming up with various ways he can score a stranger and one night stand his problems away for twelve hours.

Once finished with his shower, he towels himself off and picks out the sluttiest outfit that he owns. The tight high-waisted black pants show off the fat curve of his ass and display his strong thighs from years of volleyball conditioning. He leaves the top three buttons of his flowy white blouse open to showcase his collarbones and unmarked neck.

Tadashi is almost one hundred percent sure this outfit will warrant him a good fuck or at the very least, a makeout session steamy enough to fog up the mirror in his brain. He styles his hair so that it frames his face. A little bit of shimmery eyeshadow decorates his lids and a swipe of eyeliner extends the natural shape of his dark brown eyes. A dab of highlighter enunciates his features.

As he walks out of the bathroom, Tadashi glances at the photo sitting proudly and undisturbed on his desk.

It was captured when he and Kei had their third anniversary, a week after Kei’s fifteenth birthday. They were at a park between their houses and they were smiling brightly in the picture, faces full of glee and love.

Tadashi walks over to the photo and chucks it into the trash to be forever forgotten in a pile of pencil shavings and messed-up chemistry notes. He grabs his keys off the floor of his bedroom and trudges downstairs, not bothering to move the two bags at various places of descension.

With a final huff, he opens his front door and slams it shut behind him. He locks it before turning around and making his way into town on foot.

.

.

.

The cool summer breeze nips and kisses his face as he walks down the sidewalk. His eyes search the streets, looking for anything to focus on. He settles on the girls in front of him. They’re probably around sixteen and they still have their school uniforms on, they probably just finished with cram school and are headed for some light-hearted fun. Probably karaoke.

As Tadashi walks, the night continues, the bright lights of the stars dimmed from the light pollution of Miyagi’s city-like town center. A familiar greenish-blue glow shines on his face, the neon glow inviting him back into a club he hasn’t been to in years.

The last time he came here, he was sixteen and he and Tsukishima were trying to get as fucked up as they possibly could to erase the image of the two of them walking in on Coach Ukai and Takeda fucking in the club room.

Without another moment, Tadashi pulls out his fake ID and walks up to the bouncer. The burly man in front of the door barely gives a glance at it before letting him through. As soon as Tadashi crosses the threshold, the smell of sweat, booze, and sex fill the air, and God is he ready to join the people dancing away on the dance floor.

He heads straight to the bar and orders an amaretto with pineapple juice. The sweet bartender smiles at him, recognizing the distress on his face. She also notes that he probably wants to get fucked up. Fruity drinks are the best way to do so.

“Bad day?” She questions as she pours juice into the liqueur.

“Fuck, you could say that,” he responds back, his excited smile turning into a grimace.

“What happened?” She grabs a little umbrella and uses it as a stir stick, hoping that the cute little garnish will help brighten Tadashi’s day a little bit.

“I just caught my boyfriend of five years cheating on me.”

“Shit. Well, it’s a good thing I made this one a bit heavy-handed. Go out there and show him what he’s missing, yeah?” She finishes off the conversation and slides the drink over the counter.

Tadashi glances down at her name tag, “thanks Yukio.”

He leans against the bar and looks around the room, taking in the sight of people of various genders and sexualities grinding and dancing against each other to the beat of the music. In less than five minutes, he’s already almost finished with the fruity cocktail and is two shots of tequila away from going to the dance floor.

He turns back to Yukio to order said shots of tequila and closes his tab for the night, giving her a generous tip as a thanks. He forgoes the salt and slams back the first shot, not even bothering to suck on the lime wedge served with it.

He takes the second one like it’s intended to, the lime leaving a pleasant sting in his mouth. Without another thought, Tadashi fixes his blouse and heads out onto the dance floor.

Once he’s there, he loses himself in the music. Running his hands up and down his body and through his hair, he mouths along to the lyrics of Kai’s ‘Mmmh.’ his hips move to the music. He’s so caught up in his own world that he doesn’t notice the multitude of hungry eyes staring at him from across the club, the lovely mix of alcohol and his meds muffling his mind.

Oikawa can’t believe his eyes. He never expected Yamaguchi to come to Secrets on a Friday night, especially since it seems that he came on his own.

The tall brunet saw him come in, full of disbelief until the little freckles scattered across the younger man’s face confirmed what he hoped was true. Tadashi Yamaguchi walked into Miyagi’s only gay bar.

Alone.

Oikawa looked around when Tadashi came in, expecting that someone had been waiting for him but he saw no sight of any of the Karasuno third years.

Next to him, Kuroo is talking up a gaggle of girls, playfully flirting with them with no intention of taking them home. He came into this outing with the mindset that he was going to be buried balls deep in Tooru once they got home. Tooru nudges the black haired man’s shoulder, drawing his attention away from the giggling girls.

“Hey, babe. What’s up?” Tetsurou questions his almost-boyfriend. Oikawa points to the dance floor where Tadashi is uncaringly grinding his ass against the crotch of a man with strong arms and a gross, sweaty face.

“Look Tetsu, it’s our little pinch server. He’s all grown up!” Tooru points out the younger boy to Tetsurou and the man squints his eyes.

Tooru leans up to Tetsu’s ear, “And he’s all alone.” As the sentence is processed in Kuroo’s head, a large smirk curls unto his face.

“Well then, I guess this old cat is going to pounce.” Oikawa rolls his eyes and urges Kuroo to go tell Terushima.

“Tell him to meet us on the dance floor, let’s see how this night goes,” Tooru finishes as he downs the rest of his whiskey, the cool liquid burning his throat as it goes and he walks onto the dance floor. As he gets closer he sees the small smile on Tadashi’s face and he can’t help but admire just how pretty he’s gotten.

When Oikawa first saw Yamaguchi during Aoba Johsai’s practice match with Karasuno, he was immediately stricken with the boy. He was decidedly disappointed when he saw Yamaguchi give Tsukishima a celebratory kiss after Karasuno scored the match point.

So, like any logical teenager, he moped about it to Iwaizumi until he got fed up with Oikawa’s shenanigans and shoved Oikawa onto Kuroo and Terushima.

By the time Yuuji and Tetsurou met Karasuno for the first time they knew pretty much everything there was to know about Tadashi. His height, his favourite food, his relationship with Tsukishima, his position, and almost everything else.

The three of them finally talked about their mutual attraction to Yamaguchi during a party thrown at Matsukawa’s house after the inter-high preliminaries where a game of spin the bottle threw up feelings that all three of them had been pushing down since middle school.

That night was the first that marked the mutually beneficial relationship that the three of them had which consisted of fucking, cuddling, and being almost-but-not-quite-boyfriends.

Then, Tadashi had just been a cute little first year that all three of them wanted to ruin so badly. They wanted to fuck and love him so thoroughly that he would never want anyone else. The Tadashi that Tooru sees in from of him is different.

This Tadashi’s face is thinner, his jawbone sharp enough to carve marble and his creamy skin practically begs for Oikawa to sink his teeth into the flesh. His cheeks are covered in a healthy glow of pink, the alcohol tinting his fair skin. His thighs have gotten bigger, more muscular but still lean. No doubt from practising every day for hours on end. Along with his thighs, his ass also filled out. Oikawa can feel his mouth watering at the thought of what it would look like marked up and covered in something less than PG.

Without another thought, he shoves himself in between Tadashi and the ogre-like man behind him and sends said man a glare that says “fuck off or I’ll castrate you.” The man looks at Oikawa, a little perturbed, and leaves without a word.

Tooru places his hands on Tadashi’s hips and guides them back to grind the younger’s ass against his clothed dick.

He then leans his head close to Tadashi’s ear, “Hey, baby. Long time no see?”

Tadashi recognizes the voice as soon as it enters his ears and he lets out a breathy “fuck” before turning himself around in Oikawa’s arms to face him.

“Hey pretty, what are you doing here?” Tooru questions him, genuinely curious. At the inquiry, Tadashi groans and buries his face into the crook of Tooru’s neck. He inhales deeply, taking an extra long whiff of the cologne Oikawa had sprayed on earlier.

“Kei cheated on me. I just want to forget for a while,” he mumbles into his shoulder. Oikawa looks down at him in surprise, not expecting that news but welcoming it wholeheartedly.

He smiles, “Would you like us to help you forget?”

Tadashi looks up questioningly, “Us?”

Oikawa then points over to Yuuji and Tetsurou, who are currently making their way across the dance floor, awkwardly dancing their way through people.

Tadashi looks up at him and pleads, “Yes. Oh God, please.”

Tooru smirks, “Good choice.” He then spins the boy around once more and presses his hand against Tadashi’s lower stomach, pushing their hips together. Then, he leans his head down and bites lightly at his neck. Tadashi groans in pleasure at the feeling, his head lolling back against Tooru’s shoulder.

With closed eyes, Tadashi allows himself to get lost in the feeling of Oikawa’s hands and lips on his body. He feels like there’s a fire burning between his legs and his head feels fuzzy in the best way. Two new pairs of hands find purchase on his body, one hand sliding underneath the open collar of his shirt to run over the expanse of his chest.

He opens his eyes to see two pairs of eyes, one the colour of roasted almonds and the other a piercing yellow. Testsurou stands in front of him, hands squeezing Tadashi’s thighs and caressing his lower stomach while Yuuji uses his cold hands to tease his chest. Without another beat, Tadashi raises his right arm and grabs a fistful of Yuuji’s dyed hair and smashes their lips together.

The kiss is open-mouthed and messy and definitely not the best kiss Tadashi’s had but at that moment it felt like he was lip-locked with Eros himself.

Eagerly, Yuuji kisses him back with a slight smirk, his tongue piercing causing a weird but pleasurable sensation. The hand that was under Tadashi’s shirt drags itself across his chest and lightly tweaks his nipple. Yuuji’s eyebrows elevate slightly as his fingertips feel the distinct coldness of a steel piercing.

“Fuck!” Tadashi moans, his hips jolting as he throws his head back. As the kiss breaks, a lewd string of saliva connects their lips together.

Yuuji is in no rush to tell the other two men about his discovery of Tadashi’s naughty nipple piercings. Tetsurou leans over and laps at the saliva before bringing his lips to meet Yuuji’s. The two men make out heatedly, licking and nipping and kissing at each other in ways that have Tadashi rutting his ass back into Tooru’s dick carelessly.

Tooru breaks his lips from Tadashi’s neck, “does that turn you on baby? Seeing two hot guys making out in front of you, sharing your spit?”

Tadashi breathlessly nods his head in response and Tooru tuts at him.

“Use your words baby.”

Tadashi swallows the lump in his throat, “I love it, sir.”

Tooru’s eyes widen at the title before his lips stretch out into a Cheshire-like grin. He pushes Tetsurou’s hands off of the younger and the black haired man gives little resistance as he is too busy swallowing Yuuji’s tongue.

Tooru lightly drags his hands from Tadashi’s hips down over his stomach and to the tops of his thighs. Teasingly, he splays his fingers and brushes oh so gently at the sides of Tadashi’s groin. Yuuji notices the movement and once again squeezes his nipple.

“Hnn..fuck me!” Tadashi keens with closed eyes, his resolve dissipating even more as his body is teased and tweaked at by the men that he has had secret crushes on since his first year.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Tooru responds teasingly.

“Open your eyes for me, pet.”

Tadashi opens his eyes and is once again met with the sight of pretty amber ones, but these eyes are shaded by a pair of thick glasses.

“Kei?” He questions, pulling away slightly from Tooru’s hold. Tetsurou follows Tadashi’s eye line to see Kei standing there, mouth agape and eyes wide.

Kei had gone to the club for the same reason Tadashi did: to forget. What he didn’t expect was to see the boy he cheated on dancing with (practically fucking) three of the hottest people that Kei had ever seen. If the blonde thought they were hot as celebrities in high school, then now all three of them were like gods.

“C’mon baby, let’s give that cheater a show,” Yuuji tells Tadashi with a smirk before pinching and tweaking at the younger’s peaked nipples, causing a hearty moan to leave his throat as Tadashi keeps eye contact with Kei.

Tooru moves his hands to palm over Tadashi’s clothed dick and he ruts up into the touch.

Tetsurou had joined Tooru behind him and began to leave marks of his own.

Tadashi, all consumed by the feelings that they’re leaving on his body, doesn’t realize that Kei had stormed off with a red face and eyes full of hurt.

He just wants more of everything that they’re giving him.

“Please. Please fuck me. Take me home and ruin me, please,” Tadashi begs the three of them with lidded eyes, his brows furrowed and face flushed. Tetsurou, Tooru, and Yuuji all share a single look and without saying a single word, they all know each other’s thoughts.

Wordlessly, all but Tetsurou break away from him and Tadashi whines at the loss of stimulation. Said man leads him across the dance floor, assisting the boy through the clusters and crowds of dancing people and out of the club. Tooru goes to quickly collect their things while Yuuji closes the tab they racked up.

The late night summer air kisses Tadashi’s cheeks and he takes a deep breath in through his nose and exhales it out his mouth. He looks up at Tetsurou who is standing next to him, phone in hand. Tadashi can make out the loading screen for Uber.

Ah, responsible as ever.

Without the three pairs of hands on his body, the musty smell of alcohol and weed, the blaring music, and the hot bodies all around him, Tadashi can think properly.

He hasn’t seen any of the boys since Yuuji graduated high school last year (Tadashi was invited to his grad party). They’ve all changed so much since that fleeting night that he can’t really remember. Yuuji had brought out enough edibles to render all of them useless for fifteen hours so that night is mostly a blur.

They all look…older. Now Tadashi can really see how much of an adult Tetsurou looks like. His jaw is defined and his cheekbones are higher than Suna on a Saturday. His eyes are the same dangerously seductive yellow that he remembers but now they have a layer of maturity to them.

Tadashi knows that this is probably a stupid decision, in a lot of ways. He’s sleeping with people that know Tsukki and all of their friends and he’s doing it all at once. Tadashi can also tell that there is some sort of existing relationship between Yuuji, Tetsurou, and Tooru but he can’t tell exactly what it is. He’d hate to be the one to come between a relationship, even more so after he’s been cheated on.

That thought brings him back to why he is doing this.

Tsukishima Kei, his boyfriend of five years, cheated on him with their first-year manager. Suddenly, Tadashi doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that Tsukishima was hurt at the sight of Tadashi having fun and getting the pleasure he’s been missing for almost two and a half months.

Tsukishima Kei does not deserve Tadashi’s forgiveness or his time and so Tadashi concludes to himself that he’s going to fuck three hot men tonight and deal with everything tomorrow morning.

Like an adult.

Tadashi looks back up at Tetsurou and admires the way that the blueish light highlights his features. The tall man looks down at him and Tadashi wills himself not to avert eye contact.

“I know, I know, I’m devastatingly handsome. Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Tetsurou winks and Tadashi laughs at his response and walks up close to him, a plan in mind.

He puts a hand on Tetsu’s shoulder and tilts his head up, “Whatever you want, Captain,” he then pushes up onto his toes and connects their lips together into a sensual kiss. Tetsurou groans deeply into the kiss, the name tickling him in the recesses of his perverted brain. Tadashi can feel Tetsurou’s teeth scraping his bottom lip as the kiss gets deeper.

A low, teasing whistle sounds out, interrupting the intimate moment. The two pull away from each other to see Tooru and Yuuji standing there with dopey smiles and knowing eyes plastered on their stupidly smug faces.

“All worked up over a little kiss? Testu~ you’re losing your touch!” Tooru teases the slightly taller man as he eyes the erection that’s starting to press through Tetsurou’s slacks.

Tetsurou shoves Tooru’s shoulder with a grumble, “Oh shut up. That boy is a little minx!” Yuuji raises his eyebrows in response, intrigued by his lover’s word choice.

“Oh? And just what did this “little minx” do that caused our composed Kuroo Tetsurou to blush like a teenage virgin?” Yuuji teases, getting up close to Tetsurou’s face.

“He fuckin’ called me Captain,” Tetsurou mumbles out, his eyes cast to the ground and his cheeks red as roses.

Yuuji raises his brows, surprised at his answer and chuckles before turning to look at Tadashi, “My, my. Who knew our boy was such a pervert? Tell me baby, when was the last time that shitty ex of yours made you cum?”

Tadashi’s face bursts into a bright red blush and that burning feeling that was present in his groin earlier was back again at full force. He said “our” boy.

Yuuji bends at the waist, pushing his face into Tadashi’s, much like he just did to Tetusurou. With a conniving grin, he takes a strand of fringe that had fallen into Tadashi’s eyes and twirls it around his long index finger.

“I- well we, I mean I haven’t…uhm,” Tadashi’s brain shuts off from his mouth and he can’t seem to string together any semblance of a coherent sentence. He fumbles with his fingers in front of him, the way that Yuuji’s speaking causes his brain to short-circuit.

It’s been so long since, not only his body, but his brain, was teased like this.

The last few times that Tadashi and Kei had sex were quick and weirdly, not very intimate. There was a lack of pet names and kissing and Tadashi’s favourite thing, a careful mix of degradation and praise. This sudden influx of humiliating yet attractive conversation has him and his hard dick reeling in need.

“I- well, we” Yuuji mocks, “C’mon babe, it’s okay. We all know that you haven’t been getting dicked properly. We’re here to help you fix that, right?”

Dumbly, Tadashi just nods in response and swallows loudly.

“Good boy.” Tadashi’s knees go weak at the pet name and it takes all of his effort not to buckle down into the ground. How is he going to get through the night if he’s this worked up and they’ve barely touched him?

Right at that moment, the Uber that Tetsurou had ordered earlier pulls up to the curb and Yuuji stands up and saunters his way over to the car.

He’s proud that he can reduce Tadashi into a puddle of want just with some (what he considers to be) light teasing and a simple pet name.

Tetsurou huffs at Yuuji’s behavior, just happy that he’s not on the receiving end of the blonde’s incessant flirting for once.

Tooru walks up to Tadashi and smiles, “You seem like you need some help getting to the car.”

Tadashi just holds out his hand and Tooru gladly takes it, leading the younger to the silver Nissan that Yuuji and Tetsurou have already climbed into. With wobbly legs, Tadashi climbs into the car with Tooru’s help and the two of them go to the back of the car and sit in the third row of seats.

Tadashi melts into the seat, so thankful to finally be off of his feet. He’s been so caught up in the events of the day that he hadn’t realized just how much pain he was in. Between practice, sprinting home, and dancing, his feet are now burning with how exhausted they are.

The ride to the three college students’ apartment is mostly smooth and Tadashi is grateful for the reprieve that his brain (and his dick) has been granted. That is, until Tooru begins to run his right hand up and down Tadashi’s thigh, dangerously close to his half-hard cock.

The little touches flutter up and down his thighs. Sometimes, Tooru’s hand inches right above his dick but before he touches it, the feeling is dragged back up over his lower stomach. Butterflies settle in Tadashi’s tummy and he opens his legs wider, allowing Tooru more space to toy with. It takes everything in him not to moan out when Tooru finally touches him right where he wants it. Tooru’s fingers brush over Tadashi’s cock in feather-like motions, light enough to cause some long awaited stimulation but too light to give him what he really wants.

Now, Tooru’s fingers go from trailing up and down Tadashi’s shaft, to drawing little circles around his swollen balls and back up again. Every once in a while, a finger draws down enough to swipe right at the edge of Tadashi’s clothed, clenching hole. The teasing causes Tadashi’s previously half-hard cock to turn into a full stiffie.

To Tadashi, it feels as though the teasing has been going on for hours when in reality it’s been maybe ten minutes at most. He’s so lost in the feeling of Tooru’s fingers and the effort of trying to control his sounds that he doesn't know that the car’s stopped, he only notices the lack of touch on his dick as Tooru pulls his hand away. He tries to suppress a whine as the light pressure dissipates. One look from Tooru is all he needs to know that he needs to stay quiet, at least until the four of them are inside the apartment.

With help once more, Tadashi gets out of the SUV and stands on shaky legs, his erection presses up against the seam of his trousers, causing little sparks of pleasure to travel up his spine. His eyebrows furrow up in concentration as he tries to suppress the urge to thrust his hips up at the feeling.

Yuuji sends him a knowing look and Tadashi immediately blushes and shys away from his gaze, embarrassed that the blonde haired man saw what was going on in the back of the car. He ignores Yuuji’s gaze and instead moves to walk behind Tetsurou, who is eagerly making his way up the stairs.

Tadashi follows behind on wobbly legs and puts most of his weight onto the handrails that are helping him navigate the stairs without falling backward. As he walks up the stairs, Tadashi can feel two pairs of lustful eyes staring at him. Deciding to rile them up while he can (and while he’s in the safety of a public space) Tadashi adds a little bit of extra sway to his hips and purposefully pushes his ass out a little more than he needs to when he climbs up the next stair.

The teasing action is rewarded by one of the men behind him striking him across the behind with a crisp smack, the hit landing right on the meaty part of his ass. The stinging sensation that follows afterward has Tadashi tensing up at the feeling and letting out a small moan. He stops where he is for a split second before attempting to regain his composure and make it up the last half a dozen steps.

By the time he’s gotten to the top of the stairs and Tetsurou is unlocking the door to the little apartment, Tadashi is shaking in anticipation. He’s so ready to get destroyed by the three men that tower above him, so excited to get thoroughly fucked and used and ruined.

As soon as Tetsurou swings the door open, Tooru moves in front of Tadashi and gives him a command, “Jump.” He does as he’s asked and the strong setter holds him by his thighs, Tadashi’s legs wrap around his sinfully small waist. As soon as Tooru has adjusted to the added weight, he’s walking forward into the apartment with his hands groping every inch of Tadashi’s ass and thighs he can reach, any thought of modesty thrown to the wolves.

Yuuji and Tetsurou follow the two men into Tooru’s room, where he’s taking their new lover. Their eyes are dark and their pupils are so blown out that only a sliver of their irises can be seen. The sight in front of them has both of them getting hotter and hotter and Yuuji has to make an effort to rip his eyes away from the scene in front of him in order to close the front door.

Once Tooru is standing over his bed, he leans down and lets go of Tadashi’s thighs. Tadashi plops down onto the mattress and Tooru quickly follows. Laying down on top of the length of Tadashi’s body, Tooru brings the two of them into a sloppy open-mouted kiss. The sanctuary of the apartment grants both of them the needed permission to make as much noise as they please.

Tooru moves down from the other man’s lips to trail wet kisses and suckle marks into his jawline. He gets to the spot of Tadashi’s neck that’s right under the angle of his jaw and sucks hard. The stimulation causes Tadashi to moan out, “Fuck! That’s so good, sir!” His hips buck up against Tooru’s, causing their clothed dicks to rub up against each other in a moment of euphoria.

“Shit, baby. You feel so good,” Tooru compliments in response to the glorious pressure against his dick, something he’s been yearning for since him, Yuuji, and Tetsurou initially left their apartment. Tetsurou and Yuuji watch the scene unfold as the two of them strip down into nothing but their boxers, matching dark spots of pre stain the fabric and do nothing to hide the fact that both men are aroused. They walk to seperate sides of the bed and simultaneously kneel on the mattress, their added weight causing the two men exploring each other to look up at the disturbance.

Tetsurou leans over and gently pushes Tooru up so that his and Tadashi’s chests are no longer touching each other, but now Tooru’s ass is sitting directly above Tadashi’s dick. Without hesitation, Tooru uses this new position to grind down onto the younger. His balls rub up against the length of Tadashi’s shaft and he lets out sighs of pleasure at the release of pressure on his groin. “Oh my god!” Tadashi keens, his mouth falling open due to the pleasure.

Tetsurou makes quick work of unbuttoning the youngest’s shirt but stops his task as soon as he sees the two shining metal bars that poke out of each side of Tadashi’s nipples. His brain stops for a second as he drags his nails along Tadashi’s lean stomach.

“Oh god baby, look at you,” he groans out at the sight, hands coming up to twist and pull at the piercings. He turns to look at Yuuji, who has pulled out his hard cock from the confines of his boxers and is currently stroking himself slowly, a prince albert decorates the head and glints against the soft glow of the lamp light.

“Why didn’t you tell me that this little vixen had his nipples pierced?” Tetsurou emphasizes the inquiry by tugging harshly on the metal and pulling a moan out of Tadashi’s mouth that is so sinful Satan himself would blush at the sound.

“Wanted to- hnng- surprise you,” Yuuji grunts out as he fucks his fist to the sight in front of him, a wet shlick noise joining the cacophany of erotic sounds in the room.

“Well you sure as shit did,” Tetsurou comments as he removes his hands from Tadashi’s nipples, which now sit stiff and senstive. The black haired man lifts his shoulders off of the bed slightly to get Tadashi completely out of his shirt. As the sleeves fall down Tadashi’s shoulders, he can feel Tooru’s weight shift off of him and feels the setter’s deft fingers pulling on the zipper of his pants followed by the button coming undone.

Tadashi lifts his hips as best he can to aid Tooru in pulling down his pants and boxers. The brunet yanks his own pants down along with Tadashi’s and throws them somewhere in the bedroom. He’ll deal with the mess tomorrow. He eagerly yanks his shirt up and off his head. Tadashi squirms underneath the older man’s gaze, his chestnut brown eyes full of both lust and longing.

The younger gazes up at Tooru intensely, taking in his nude form that Tadashi swears must be the inspiration for countless Greek statues. His chisled abs look strong and Tadashi wants to run his tongue over every hill and through every valley of his torso. His Adonis belt is defined and points Tadashi’s eyes directly down to look at Tooru’s fat, flushed cock.

He wants to grovel at Tooru’s feet and worship every inch of him. Tadashi wants to kiss up and down his aroused dick and wants to know what the setter would feel like on the inside. Probably something akin to the finest velvet produced.

“You’re so perfect, like a God,” he mumbles out to himself, not entirely aware that he’d said that aloud. On top of him, Tooru moans out at the praise and rocks his hips onto Tadashi’s again as a reward.

“As much as I would love for you to worship me, today it’s our turn to worship you, baby,” Tooru says as he presses his hands on the top of Tadashi’s thighs, now grinding against him in a dizzingly pleasurable rhythm. The feeling of their bare cocks rubbing against one another has Tadashi’s head reeling in pleasure. Tetsurou resumes his work on the youngest’s sensitive nipples, determined to get him to cum for the first time of the night.

“Fuck! More…more please!” Tadashi whines out, his hips bucking up against Tooru’s erractically. Yuuji gets up from his position at the end of bed and moves to sit next to Tadashi’s head. Said boy turns to look at him, eye watery and pupils blown.

“Plea…se,” he begs pathetically, brows drawn up tight and face scrunched in pleasure. Yuuji looks down at him and brings a hand to his face. He caresses the side of Tadashi’s forehead, gently petting his ruffled hair down.

“This is all you’re getting right now, pet. So be a good boy and take it for me, okay?” Yuuji smirks down at Tadashi, who whines in disappointment but ultimately begins to let himself become more immersed in the pleasure his body is feeling.

“That’s a good boy. Just feel it. Feel the way that Tooru is working your cocks together. Feel Tetsu’s tongue on your nipple. Does it feel good, love?” Yuuji questions, bringing his hand back to his own straining dick. He runs his hand over the shaft, the pressure just enough to be pleasurable and keep him aroused, but definitely not enough to make him cum any time soon.

Tadashi nods his head in response, his shining eyes full of lust and what can only be described as wonder. The movement of his hips becomes more aggressive and his back starts to arch up into Tetsurou’s touch even more.

“Hnng I’m gonna cum!” Tadashi exclaims, already almost at the peak of his orgasm.

“Go ahead baby, come for us,” Tetsurou says as he pinches and pulls at Tadashi’s puffy nipples. Tadashi’s entire body shakes as his orgasm starts to wash over him, intense and almost overwhelming.

His cock kicks as white ropes of cum spurt out, the hot sticky liquid staining his own chest and Tooru’s dick and chest. The sight of Tadashi cumming underneath him causes Tooru to reach his own peak.

Tetsurou and Yuuji both pull back slightly to look at the two men that lay in front of them. The sight of Tadashi and Tooru cumming all over each other with their hips still grinding in order to prolong their orgasms leaves both of them groaning and fisting their cocks. Once again, not enough to make them cum, but enough to give them pleasure.

A solid three minutes have passed by the time that both Tadashi and Tooru’s orgasms have washed over them. The older practically collapses on top of Tadashi as both of them breathe heavily, smearing their cum together on their stomachs.

“That was…” Tooru starts breathlessly, “amazing.” Swallowing roughly, Tadashi responds. “Fuck, I don’t think I’ve come that hard in a fucking year.” He chuckles, the endorphins that come from sex still fogging up his brain. He begins to shift under Tooru and push the older man off of him, thinking that this night of sex is over.

“Woah, woah. Where are you going?” Tetsurou questions, using his hand to push Tadashi back down. Confused, he just looks back up at the black haired man.

“I thought we were done? I mean, I already came,” Tadashi responds, genuinely naive to the thought of how this night was going to go.

Almost simultaneously, the other three men bust out in a great deal of laughter, Tetsurou’s howling drowning out the other two’s. Puzzled, Tadashi looks at them, starting to feel a bit self conscious as he awkwardly chuckles along.

“Oh, baby…do you mean to tell me that Kei would only make you cum once?” Yuuji questions, his eyes containing a predatory glint to them that has Tadashi shrinking back into the bed. With big eyes, he nods at Yuuji.

“Oh, no no. That just won’t do,” Yuuji tuts in fake sympathy, “See baby, I want to ruin you. I want you to cum so much that you can’t think of anything that’s not us and the pleasure you’re feeling. Okay?”

“Shit!” Tadashi’s eyes roll back into his head and he almost cums again just from Yuuji’s words right then and there. Tooru pulls himself off of Tadashi to see that his cock is already filling back up again. “I can’t believe you haven’t been played with like this before, especially since your body wants it so badly,” Tooru smirks as he drags a finger from the head of Tadashi’s flushed cock, down the swell of his balls, and around the rim of his fluttering asshole.

“Unhh, Tooru!” Tadashi keens as Tooru runs his finger around the taught ring of muscle. Gently, Tooru pushes Tadashi’s thighs apart to gain more access to his quivering hole.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby,” he comments as he ducks his head down in between the smaller man’s legs. Tooru’s tongue darts out to lap at his entrance, tasting a mix of his and Tadashi’s dripping cum. Tetsurou holds Tadashi’s head in his hands and urges him to open his eyes and look at him.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, pet. Tooru is going to open you up for me with his tongue and fingers and then you’ll sit on my dick. Then, you’re gonna let Yuuji sit on yours, alright?” He explains vulgarly, excited yellow eyes piercing through Tadashi’s hungrily.

Tadashi nods in agreement but the silent answer only earns him a pinch on the thigh from Tooru. He yelps in response.

“Tooru’s right baby, you need to use your words. So tell us, is that alright?” Tetsurou asks, an air of dominance surrounding him that hadn’t been there for most of the night.

“Yes, sirs!” Tadashi wastes no time in answering, fully believing that the three of them would have absolutely no problem with punishing him if they thought it appropriate. As a reward, Tooru begins to work a finger into Tadashi’s tight ass, using a mixture of spit and cum as lube. The intruision sparks a strong of sinful moans from Tadashi’s gaping mouth.

“Oh, you’re such a good boy. Look at you,” Tetsurou coos down at him, taking note of the way that Tadashi’s eyes have almost completely glazed over. He looks over to Yuuji and beckons him to come look at the ruined man laying on the bed.

Tooru continues to scissor Tadashi open, his tongue pushing against the man’s rim. By the time he’s able to add another finger, Tadashi is starting to grind his hips back into Tooru’s hand and face.

“Look at him, under and happy. Like a natural born whore,” he comments as he brushes his hands through Tadashi’s hair comfortingly. At the compliment, Tadashi’s back starts to arch once more, showing the other three that he’s once again close to an orgasm.

Right as his back starts to arch, Tooru pulls his fingers out of Tadashi’s ass and gives his inner-thigh one last cheeky bite. Tadashi’s hips twitch as his orgasm evades him, whines pouring out of his mouth.

“Wha…why?” He gasps out, pink tear tracks staining his pretty face. Instead of Tooru answering like Tadashi’s expecting, Tetsurou pipes up instead.

“Because, baby, I want you to come on my dick,” the black haired man explains casually like his words aren’t making Tadashi’s back arch. All the hands that had been caressing him leave and Tadashi feels cold. The chill is short. Just as soon as the hands left, they came back. This time though, something thicker than fingers prods at the rim of his ass.

Tadashi, who had closed his eyes in frustration, opens them again to see Tetsurou’s dick positioned in between his thighs. One look at it and Tadashi can already feel his insides clenching. Fuck. He’s so thick.

Tetsurou’s dick isn’t the longest he’s seen, in fact it’s quite average. The girth, however, is anything but average. Tadashi knows no amount of fingering would ever get him loose enough to take it without a stretch.

“Hnh…oh fuck!” Tadashi turns his head to see Tooru working his fingers in and out of Yuuji, getting him prepped to take the younger’s cock. Tetsurou, who notices Tadashi’s diverted attention, grabs his chin and pulls it to the front.

“Don’t look at them right now, baby. Look at me.” It’s in that moment that Tetsurou grabs his dick in one hand and guides it into Tadashi slowly. Tadashi throws his head back at the intrusion, the fat head of Kuroo’s cock pushing past his rim.

“Oh my god! Ohmygod ohmygo-“ his back arches as Tetsurou slides in deeper, stretching his ass. Tetsurou stops halfway inside to help Tadashi adjust. He brings his calloused hand to the younger man’s cock and gives it a few stokes to help relax him. It works and eventually he loosens his muscles and Tetsurou is able to slide in the rest of the way, balls touching his perineum.

As Tetsurou is fully seated inside him, Tadashi feels like all the air in his lungs has been knocked out. His head feels fuzzy and he’s being split open just right. He floats for a bit as Tetsurou stays still to let them both adjust, the warmth of Tadashi’s body so hot and good it’s almost overwhelming. So lost in the feeling of a thick cock inside him, Tadashi doesn’t notice the other two men who’ve shifted from their position on the bed beside him. It’s only when he feels a cold trickle of lube drizzled onto his shaft that he realizes they had moved.

He opens his eyes in time to see Yuuji swinging a leg over his hips before settling on his stomach right above his dick. Tadashi (who had already forgotten what Yuuji had said earlier) looked up at Yuuji in shock, his eyes widening.

“No…no it’s gonna be too much! I can’t-“ he blubbers, little tears springing into the corners of his eyes.

“You can. You can take it, baby. I know you can,” Yuuji interrupts before grabbing Tadashi’s lubed cock and guiding it up to his hole. Without warning, he sheathes himself all the way down in one go with a hearty, the wet warmth surrounding Tadashi’s dick all-encompassing.

For a minute Tadashi just lays there, trembling. He’s never felt so overwhelmed, so full of pleasure.

He…

loves it.

Letting his desires take over, Tadashi moves his hips, unsure if he wants to grind back into the thick cock in his ass or buck up into the wet hole on his dick.

Getting the message, both Tetsurou and Yuuji begin to work together to drive Tadashi crazy. As Tetsurou pulls out, Yuuji slams down onto Tadashi’s dick. When Yuuji pulls himself up, Tetsurou rams his cock into Tadashi’s tight hole, his fat dick hitting very good spot inside him. They work in tandem, riling him up by going fast before slowing down to an almost painful pace. Yuuji slides his hands up to Tadashi’s chest to pluck at his nipples and play with his piercings again, his thighs shaking with the effort of riding him.

At some point, Tadashi is unsure when, Tooru comes to sit next to him, turning Tadashi’s head guiding his mouth to his cock.

Greedily, Tadashi suckles and slurps on Tooru’s dick. He savours the salty, slightly bitter taste of precum. Quickly he pulls off and looks into the brunette’s eyes, “Please. Fuck my mouth.” Without hesitation, Yuuji pulls his hands from the younger man’s nipples and Tooru shifts himself so that he’s sitting on Tadashi’s chest. Almost immediately, he rams his dick back into Tadashi’s mouth. He opens his throat and allows Tooru’s cock to slide in and out.

In and out and in and out and in and out. The rhythm picks up and slows down, the three older men working Tadashi’s body into a lustful haze as nothing but groans and moans and the slick sound of bodies together is heard.

Before he knew it, the hot knot of arousal that had been building up in Tadashi’s abdomen was ready to burst. All at once, he clamped down on Tetsurou’s cock, groaned around Tooru’s, and his own kicked up inside Yuuji’s tight heat.

Tooru pulls off of his chest, giving him room to breathe as he begins to jack himself to completion. “Fuuuuuck!” He groans as his back arches and he cums inside Yuuji and around Tetsurou. Tooru fists his cock until he cums, shooting spurts of white onto Tadashi’s face. Some of it manages to land inside the man’s open mouth.

Yuuji cums soon after, painting Tadashi’s chest with semen, tight walls gripping Tadashi’s overstimulated cock. He pulls himself up and off of Tadashi before flopping exhausted on the unoccupied part of the bed. It’s just Tetsurou left.

He looks Tadashi in the eye, his green eyes glazed over with lust as tears run down his pink cheeks. “I- I can’t do it! S’too much!” Tadashi babbles, thrashing his head around.

Tetsurou reaches a hand up to gently grab his chin, “You got it, just a little more, baby.” He then leans down and connects their lips together, sharing Tooru’s cum, Tetsurou licking it up off his face. It’s only a few more thrusts before Tetsurou buries himself to the hilt and cums deep inside Tadashi with a low groan.

They stay like that for a minute, Tadashi covered in cum, Tooru and Yuuji both exhausted and splayed out, Tetsurou seated inside him still, breathing hard.

Tetsurou is the first one to move. He gently pulls himself out, shushing Tadashi’s small cries at the empty feeling, and flops back down on the bed. Tadashi tries to make a move to stand up off the bed but he finds that everything below his belly button is buzzing still, numb with pleasure. His head fuzzy from his orgasms.

Seeing Tadashi’s attempt to walk, Tooru sits up and practically shoves him back down with a glare. “Stay down,” he orders before getting up himself. He shakily pads out of the bedroom and down the hall, his footsteps getting a little farther away. The sound of a door opening and running water gives away that he’s in the bathroom.

Tooru comes back with four washcloths, one for each of them. The three older men go through their normal post-sex cleaning, wiping off lube and sweat and cum, knowing that all three of them were too tired to take a proper shower.

Then, Tooru takes the fourth washcloth and begins to gently wipe Tadashi down. Yuuji and Tetsurou sit next to him, rubbing at his skin and placing comforting kisses on his chest and face. Tadashi whines softly when the cloth is dragged against his sore cock and hole.

Between the comforting touches and the exhaustion of two orgasms, Tadashi is quickly lulled to sleep. The last thing he registers is a blanket being pulled up over his naked body and three kisses on his face before he’s pulled into the comfort of his dreams.

“That’s bad for you, y’know?” ..”Yet, you do it”

Male character x gn reader oneshot

Tw: smoking

AN: i'm back from the dead

It’s a beautiful night out, the sky is clear and the stars are shining brightly. You lean against the railing and take a long drag, looking up at the sky. The door opens and you exhale through your nose. His voice is soft and you can practically hear his smirk, “That’s bad for you, y’know?” He leans against the railing and smiles at you. You roll your eyes, a chuckle slipping from your lips, “Yet, you do it.” He chuckles and lights his own, “Fair point, kid, fair point.” He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. The two of you stand there for a while, simply basking in each other's presence. He lets out a content sigh, “We should head inside, it’s getting cold.” You feel the gentle touch of his lips on the side of your head as he pulls away from you. You nod in agreement, following him inside. 

✧ ೃ༄ੈ✩ the sun and the stars | astarion + tav/reader

"You've had a deep instinct to impress Astarion since the moment you met him. You're very aware of this instinct, and you can easily recall multiple situations in which you tried to handle things in ways that you thought might make the vampire proud of you, as embarrassing as that is. You never let it change your moral stances, but the more you think about it, the more apparent it becomes to you just how dangerous the hold he has on you is. You barely know him, and he could bend and break you with just his word if he wanted to.

You weigh these options in your head, but deep in your chest, you knew your answer the second he said anything to you."

Alternatively: you are a relatively experienced adventurer, but a very inexperienced romantic partner. Astarion digs it.

! this is part one to a two part fic! part two will be out sometime around september 17th, 2023. this fic was also cross-posted. you can find the links to the other postings at the bottom of this!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You have been drinking for what feels like hours. You can feel your head spinning as you dance your way around camp, stopping every once in a while to speak to one of the very thankful tieflings littered about. This is fun, you think, probably the most fun you've had in years. Definitely the most fun you've had in the past couple of weeks.

You wander aimlessly around, clumsily, drink in hand, when your gaze falls on Astarion. He's standing in front of his tent, face full of annoyance, as he sips from the glass in his hand. A young tiefling approaches him and says something, and you see a very fake smile flash across his face. He rolls his eyes as she walks away. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you begin your journey towards him.

"Why are you moping over here all by yourself, are you not enjoying the party?" You ask, words slightly slurring together, stumbling a bit as you approach the deep burgundy tent.

A small smirk spreads on the sharp face of the pale elf, one that feels much more real than what he gave the tiefling woman moments ago, "woah, there, darling," he begins, sitting down his glass and gently steadying you by your shoulders.

"Perhaps you've had too much to drink tonight."

You roll your eyes, holding eye contact and taking another sip from your own cup in a teasing sort of defiance.

"It’s a party, Astarion, you're supposed to be having fun!"

He chuckles, a deep velvet song that travels effortlessly into your brain and settles itself in all the right places. You feel goosebumps begin to raise on your arms at the realization that his skin is touching yours.

"I'm not quite the type to be celebrated for heroism, my sweet," he starts, "I kind of hate this, actually."

Much to your dismay, he pulls his hands away, crossing his arms on his chest. Your skin feels electric where his hands just were, and you feel the need to yank them up and put them back.

You don't do that, though, and instead your brows furrow deeper as the statement registers.

"Really? I thought you'd be all for being celebrated, no matter the occasion." There's a hint of teasing in your voice, but it's a genuine statement. This scene seems like something Astarion would absolutely bask in.

He shrugs, a usually anxious gesture somehow made so confident by the tall man, "I don't know, perhaps I'm just hoping for some real fun to find me tonight."

You snort, a sound that escapes your body involuntarily and causes you, even in your drunken state, to internally cringe at the idea of what that must've looked like to him.

"And what does that mean? This is about as fun as it gets!" You proclaim, confident, though that doesn't last long as the look of humor that plasters itself across Astarion's face quickly makes you feel as though you're missing something. Your face falls.

"What?" You ask, eyes wide, "what's so funny?"

"Oh, you innocent thing," you can feel your cheeks and the tips of your pointed ears begin to heat, no doubt burning a bright red against your skin. Astarion leans in close to you, his cheek brushing against yours lightly. His hand finds its way to the dip of your waist, resting there so lightly you almost don't feel it through the fabric of your large shirt.

"I'm talking about sex, my dear." His voice is soft and warm against your ear, and you can feel his breath cascade down your neck in a way that sends shivers along your spine. You nearly drop your glass, trying to compose your face so the pure horror you feel isn't evident.

You can't help yourself, though.

"With me?" you ask, timidly, eyes desperately trying to focus on anything but him to relieve the immense anxiety building in your chest.

"Would you like that?" Your breath hitches in your throat at the question, and your glass hits the ground. It feels as though the world is spinning, and you instinctively reach up and grab at the fabric of Astarion's ruffled white shirt with both hands, gripping like it's the only thing keeping you grounded on Faerûn.

You take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut as the vague scent of bergamot and rosemary fills your senses. He presses the pads of his fingers slightly into your hip, and you feel a deep heat begin to build between your thighs.

"I.." the words you're looking for escape you and you can't seem to form a single coherent thought. Astarion has always been unattainable. You're not the kind of person who attracts people like him. He's confident, beautiful, and he's never shown an ounce of interest in you before — in fact, you've always thought he felt very negatively about you, given the way he's always opposing your actions.

He lets out another breathy laugh, pulling away slightly so he's face to face with you, forehead less than an inch from yours.

"Open your eyes," he says, a quiet demand. You don't know what compels you to listen, but you force yourself to obey, opening your eyes. Anxiously, you keep them trained on the dip of his collarbone — you can't bear to maintain eye contact with him with the intense feeling currently burning a hole in your chest.

"Look at me, darling," his hand comes up from your hip, gently guiding your chin upward between his index and thumb, until you’re eye to eye with him. The embarrassment grounds itself deep in your veins, and you're sure you must look like a tomato right now with how hard you're blushing. It takes every ounce of control you have to not turn and run away from this feeling.

"I am going to leave and walk into the woods," he begins, "into the clearing near the lake where we washed our clothing earlier, do you remember?" His voice isn't condescending or teasing — you swear you sense a sort of affection lingering on the ends of his words – it’s completely genuine.

You nod at the question, eyes wide with fear and desire. You say a prayer that he won't notice how blown out your pupils are.

"Good. I'm going to walk to that clearing, and if you would like to join me, I will be waiting." He finishes his sentence with a quick flash of a smile before turning around, grabbing his glass, and wandering off into the woods.

You stand in that spot, completely dumbfounded, for what feels like a very long time. Your brain is running at a million miles an hour trying to comprehend what could have possibly just happened. You feel almost sober after that experience, and part of you is convinced that there's no way that could've been real.

You have a choice to make, and you weigh the options in your brain.

If you decide to stay here at camp and continue about the party like nothing happened, how would that affect your relationship with Astarion going forward? He doesn't quite seem like the type to hold this against you — he did give you a choice, after all — but you don't really know him well enough to be sure. What if you deny him this and he disappears? While you're not super close with Astarion, you do like him quite a bit and it would probably affect you more than you'd like to admit if he left. Plus, he's a good asset for the team. It would be difficult to get through the upcoming challenges that you're sure you're going to face without him.

Now, if you gave in to the much more desirable option and followed him into the woods...

You pause, visualizing the outcome. He would find out that you're a virgin, that's for sure. There's no way you could possibly hide it from someone as experienced as Astarion. You're a terrible liar normally, but in this situation you're sure it would be damn near impossible to play it off like you even kind of knew what you were doing. Maybe he wouldn't care... But what if he does? What if you go out there and he finds out and he laughs in your face? You shudder at the thought.

You've had a deep instinct to impress Astarion since the moment you met him. You're very aware of this instinct, and you can easily recall multiple situations in which you tried to handle things in ways that you thought might make the vampire proud of you, as embarrassing as that is. You never let it change your moral stances, but the more you think about it, the more apparent it becomes to you just how dangerous the hold he has on you is. You barely know him, and he could bend and break you with just his word if he wanted to.

You weigh these options in your head, but deep in your chest, you knew your answer the second he said anything to you.

Legs shaking, hands numb, throat dry, you shakily turn and look towards the forest behind your camp. You take a deep breath in, holding it in your lungs for a moment before exhaling and straightening out your posture, a determined look creeping its way onto your face.

Nervously, you begin to make your way towards the clearing.

You feel like a baby deer as you carry yourself through the woods, tripping and stumbling against every rogue branch and rock. There's a persistent heat that has made itself comfortable right in the core of your stomach, and the closer you get to the clearing, the more intense it grows. You can smell the salty breeze of the lake waft in your direction as you head towards it, and the cold breeze that follows after it has you shivering and rubbing your palms against your upper arms, trying to warm yourself.

You reach the lake, and it's an absolutely beautiful sight. The water sparkles and ripples against the reflection of the large full moon beating down against it, and it envelopes everything in a dark blue hue. Far against the expanse of water, on the very edge of the horizon, you can see a spot of land, adorned with bright orange lights that bounce off the lake and fill the area with warmth.

You feel like you're being watched, as you take in the sight before you, and you freeze where you're standing. Slowly, a hand reaches itself from behind you, wrapping around your waist and pressing it's palm flat against the bottom of your stomach. Cold lips brush against the outside lining of your ear, something sharp tugging at the skin for just a moment, before you hear him speak.

"There you are," he says, his tone full of approval as his other arm wraps itself around your waist to envelop you fully. Despite his cold touch, your face and sex burn white hot at the contact.

"I'm so glad you made the right decision," his right hand travels upward slowly, flat palm fully exploring the clothed expanse of your stomach before tracing lightly around the mound of your breast. He grabs it lightly, squeezing softly and rubbing in slow, small circles. You can't help but let your eyes fall shut, mouth hanging open at the electric touch.

"I have wanted you since the moment I first saw you, you know. All small and shy and pure," he chuckles, mouth ghosting against your skin as it travels down to your neck. He presses a kiss against your skin.

"You can barely hold a conversation without reverting in on yourself,” his voice is barely there, all breath as he kisses up and down your neck. Your fingertips buzz with anticipation and your mind races. 

"Yet, the moment we enter battle," the hand lying against your waist begins to slowly make its way down the plane of your stomach, melting over the curves as it approaches the heat building between your thighs.

"It's like your bloodlust overtakes you. You become someone entirely different," his finger traces ever so lightly against your clothed clit, forcing a small gasp to fall from your lips as your legs open instinctually, "chest heaving, covered in blood, eyes lidded in an ecstasy I've only ever seen in brothels... There's something nearly animalistic about it."

His finger presses slightly harder against your clit, and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter as he rubs it gently, small noises falling effortlessly from your mouth. The hand he has palming your breast begins to journey upward, slotting itself perfectly into position around your throat – his long, dexterous fingers gripping the skin tightly, causing your breath to strain.

You can't help the way your hips buck up into the touch, and your hands shoot forward to wrap around his forearm, urging his fingers in their gentle assault against you. You try desperately to hold his hand in place and grind yourself harder against it, but he's much stronger than you. Instead, he pulls his hand away completely, turning your body to face his as he pushes you back by your neck.

You stumble and trip over the branches and stones littering the ground, but he keeps you upright as he continues to lead you backward. Your eyes flutter open, staring up through heavy lashes to meet him, and you can physically feel yourself tighten at the sight. His eyes must be ten shades darker than they usually are, his pupils blown, nearly wiping the dark red color out completely. You can practically taste the lust dripping off of his sharp features, his face stern and his eye contact ruthless. You typically find it extremely difficult to hold eye contact with Astarion for long periods of time, but you just can’t pull yourself to look away from the gorgeous sight.

You feel your back hit the rough bark of a tree somewhere behind you, and you grunt at the feeling. It’s sharp, and it stings through your shirt, but there’s little time to focus on the pain as, almost immediately, Astarion presses his lips against yours. A wave of panic surges through you, and you feel the ball of anxiety in your chest burn hotter, growing and growing, as he swipes his tongue against your lips.

He wants in, and, fuck, you want to let him in, but you falter. Your hands work their way in between your bodies, and you push at his chest lightly, mouth sealed, eyes open. He pauses, pulling away, hand around your throat loosening.

He looks at you through lidded eyes, completely blown out, fangs peeking out from beneath his top lip. 

“Is something the matter?” He asks, his tone still holding a hint of the lust it did before. You swallow, the anxiety in your throat refusing to move as the heat of embarrassment begins to replace the burning desire that was building itself up in the core of your stomach.

“I…” You start to speak, but stop yourself again for the second time tonight. How do you even say this without sounding completely incompetent? You feel stupid for not having thought about this before you wandered out here after him. You feel like banging your head against the nearest hard surface for being so oblivious.

Of course he was going to kiss you. That’s what lovers do. It’s one of the first steps in any intimate encounter, sexual or not, and you – ditzy and airheaded as ever – couldn’t have even considered that this would happen before following him out here blindly and putting yourself into one of the most uncomfortable situations you’ve ever been in?

You can see he’s holding his breath, clearly expecting a rejection of his advances or some sort of big drop of information. As you open your mouth to speak, you can tell it’s not what he was expecting to hear.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You force it out, and the sentence hangs heavy in the air. Your chest tightens as you push the words out, and you nervously pinch and pull at the fabric of his shirt, eyes avoiding his at all costs.

He’s silent for a moment, “really?” he asks, astonished. You nod.

“But… you’ve had sex?” 

You cringe again, bracing yourself for the worst as you slowly shake your head 'no'. Everything is still for a moment, and you manage to quickly flick your eyes up to get an image of the damage. Astarion’s mouth is open slightly in shock, his eyes scanning you for any trace of joking or deception. You can feel your face practically boiling under the heat of your blush, and you momentarily think that you’d probably enjoy the rare sight of the vampire rendered speechless if it weren’t for the unwavering insecurity you had swirling around this situation.

“Huh.” He breaks the silence, taking a step back, and your body slumps forward slightly, immediately missing the security of having something to lean on.

It’s nearly impossible for you to make out what’s going through his head. You watch his face carefully, doing your best to try and understand what he could possibly be thinking.

It’s silent for a long time. Your back is still pressed tight against the tree behind you, and the anxiety bubbling in your chest feels like it’s about to spew out any second. 

“Well,” Astarion’s voice cuts through the quiet, a smile spreading across his face. The smile isn’t genuine or even mocking like you’ve come to expect, instead it seems extremely forced, almost like he’s uncomfortable with the way this situation played out. You couldn’t blame him, you weren’t very comfortable with it either.

“My apologies, then,” he says, turning on his heels and beginning to walk back toward camp. Your mouth falls open in shock, your eyebrows furrowing together. You open your mouth to call for him, but nothing comes out, and he quickly disappears into the dense trees.

After a moment, you begin to slide your body down the tree, slumping to the ground, defeated, and you stay there for a long time. Distantly, you can hear the sound of the party starting to die down. You do your best not to cry, but you just can’t help it as the waves of embarrassment wash over you. You feel stupid, you feel self-conscious, you feel frustrated. The emotion just crashes down on you like a ton of rocks.

You don’t return to camp until you’re sure everyone is asleep.

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✦ archiveofourown

✦ wattpad

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I am currently looking for beta readers and editors for my fics! i cannot pay you for this job, but i can give u access to my super cool discord server - full of BG3 and DND nerds - where you will get the coveted "buzz's beta" role. please, shawty, i'm desperate!

if you are interested in doing this please shoot me a message, either here or over on discord (username: buzzbey#4141 [case sensitive!]).

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Exploring explosions ~

Bucky x reader *no use of Y/N*

Part 1 part 2 series

:⚠️warnings: use of russain throught google translate as your gurl aint russain, SHARON, 1 naughty word ⚠️:

【This is probably bad, but I've changed it already, so oops】

Summary - While on a mission, something happens to bucky. On his journey to recovery, he fines something he wants more than life.

You've been by buckys bed like you promised steve almost 24/7, it's not so bad as you get to catch up on paper work you've been ignoring like the plague and its also helped you de-stress, somehow. The only issue is Sharon... FUCKING SHARON, she keeps trying to get in here but for what? She said because she misses him but everyone knows he didn't like her, but you were able to get her on a mission saying Nat still wasn't fit for the job due to explosion but since Sharon used to tell everyone she was better than her you volunteered her.

Your sitting at the your desk you moved into the room, you've been avoiding buckys paper work for the failed mission, but as Steve didn't see why the building explosioned it makes the report almost impossible. You scoff and throw the papers on your table and lean back in your chair. You rub your eyes with your finger and thum, groaning while doing so. You slowly looked up at the clock on the other wall, sighing you, looking over to James hospital bed. You were shocked to see him laying there, staring right back at you.

Grabbing your chart, you write down the time and all his vitals on the machine he's hooked up to, slowly pushing your chair closer. You analyse his features like his cheekbones, eyebrows, and his eyes.. you couldn't admit that you found bucky slightly - okay, maybe more than slightly attractive, but how could you not with that arm and his hair and those muscles... what? You think to yourself as you stare at him in disbelief that you caught yourself even thinking like that. You looked at him properly this time, and he just looked blank with a smidge on confused, barely noticeable. "Hello Barnes, im the head of medical.. can you tell me where you are?"

He doesn't reply, just hyper focused on you and nothing else, but then he slowly shakes his head, maybe to himself, but you think you saw it. "Barnes, do you know where you are?" You say more firmly, hoping you will get some sort of answer but just stares. Your mind is going blank on what to do. For a first in a while, you're stuck. You got an idea and slowly took out your phone, turning it on you sent a text to Steve asking if you could try the winter soldier way, doing this extra slowly so you didn't startle him. You just kinda stared at him, breaking into a soft smile once or twice, but his face was set in stone.

Your phone vibrating twice before you look at it, again slowly bringing it up and checking to see Steve's reaction giving you the go ahead, you didn't need his approval or didn't really care but you wanted to keep him in the loop, so you thought of a game play while he's secretly look round the room, here goes nothing. "солдат, ты знаешь, где ты?" You tried speaking with authority.

"меня поймали" he mumbled not look at you but the ground. You're not proud of this, but you took off your coat and showed him your collar bone with: SC-837-152 tattooed into your flesh. He looked up at you and straightened his back at the new knowledge, "это не база ГИДРЫ.. где я? почему ты на них работаешь.. " He scoffed at you slightly before he looked at the door as the door handle rattled and shook. You smiled as you just thought of a great way to welcome him.

"женщина не знает личного пространства, тебе нравится личное пространство, не так ли? самое лучшее, что она не знает русский язык." She snickered as you added the built-in restraints walking to the door. You saw him thrash around and try to get his arms out, but they were built for him. "они были созданы специально для вас, получайте удовольствие" you unlocked the door and opened in swiftly to see Sharon on her knees with a lock picking tool, "hes all your" you say walking away to get lunch, which is now upgraded from 39 mins to 2 hours, which were your normal lunch hours.

@unaxv @sapphirebarnes (just lemme know if yall want added (don't think the first one worked)

The Haunted House 3

"Shut your mouth before I shut it for you," he said with one of the scariest voice you will hear.

Jin is usually one of the members that never pays for the food but this time he paid for the food which brings shocks to the other member.

"Ok guys so this is the plan, we are going to my family farmhouse so I want to all to pack your all of the necessary stuff you need for 6 weeks," Jin said, which the 6 boys agreed to.

"Ok, and when are we going to your family farm?" Taehyung asked.

"Tomorrow," Jin said.

"Ok, so guy remembers to pack all of your necessary stuff and come to our hangout spot at 8:00 am," Namjoon said.

Yoongi groaned in Namjoon's statement, "Do we really have to wake up this early?".

"Yes, or we will leave you here," Jin said.

Jimin checked the time of his phone his eyes widened, "guys it's too late we should get going" Jimin said.

The Bangthan Boys got up from the restaurant and headed their own direction and headed home. ——

They all were so excited about sending time with each other this summer vacation, they all got there most necessary stuff and of course their clothes and some food in case they feel hungry.

It was late in the night so they all slept but little did they know someone was watching them sleep lurking in the dark corner watching every second going by.

Yoongi was sleeping peacefully when he felt a shiver down his spine, he slothfully got up and felt nothing.

It might just be the fan, he thought so he reached over to the fan and turned it off and went back to his bed and sleep.

He shut his eyes and after some minutes he heard some whispering, Yoongi is the type of person that never believes in paranormal or ghost he is least likely to get scared but this time he actually was petrified.

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

that was the only word he could think right now, who the hell will whisper to him right now? Yoongi remembered that he locked the door so no one can come but who the hell is whispering to him right now?

the Min Yoongi never gets scared he said to himself.

Yoongi turned on his night that was beside him and inspected his room but there was no one.

"What the actual dumb fucking fuck I thought there was someone," he thought as he turned the lamp and went to sleep sitting a minute.

But the boy did not know someone was there watching him sleep...

—

It was eight in the morning, the 6 boys were there, at Jin's house waiting for him to come out.

"Jin come out to remember the trip!" Jimin yelled.

The door slowly opened revealing none other than Jin with a large suitcase, big bang, and a plushie.

"Wow, Jin what took you so long, and why do you have a lot of stuff it is just 6 weeks?" Namjoon asked.

"6 weeks my ass that a lot" he replied back sassily.

There was a honk that caught the boy's attention.

"Get in the carboys were are going to our farm," his dad said sitting in his car.

Bangthan went and sat but, of course, there was a "small" fight about who is going to sit were but settle down from Jin's dad telling them we're to sitting.

"So this car journey will be 3 hours long," Jin's father said.

Some of the members groaned about the long car journey.

"Ok father I hope this will be fun and no one will complain about the dumplings I brought," Jin said eyeing at Taehyung and Jimin.

Those two boys have actually fought over a dumpling, good thing they made up and things got back together.

Jungkook could not contain his laughter, remembering about them fighting over a small thing.

Jin's father started the car and the 7 boys were excited but not for long went Jin and Jungkook were fighting over a banana milkshake.

"Hmm... guys have you ever thought of becoming a kpop group?"Hoseok asked out of nowhere.

"Hmm well, we do have a lot of potentials but do really think we most of us want to be famous?"Namjoon said

"I mean, just look at this. I am good at dancing and singing so is Jimin, Jin has the face of a kpop idol, Jungkook has an amazing voice and Yoongi and you are good rapper!" Hoseok said.

"But you think we can make it? I mean do you really know how much painful nights and day the trainees go through just to be kpop idol?" Namjoon said.

Jin's father stopped the car and said they were here.

Taehyung tried to wake up Jimin and Yoongi but couldn't so Jin took the lead and then...

"WAKE YO ASS UP," he said the the the boys who were sleep fully sleeping on each other. The two boys groaned in annoyance form Jin's screaming.

"I swear to god you always have this mothery side in you," Yoongi said which Jimin agreed to.

The two boys got up from the car but Jin's father called all 7 of them.

"So guys I hope you enjoy and Jin will take care of you," he said eyeing at Jin.

"Also just to let you know that my father sometimes may act weird and ramble about a haunted house it is just fake," he said as he continues "anyway I hope you like the farm I am going bye," he said as he drove the car.

Hoseok and Jin exchange a deep look with fear in their eyes.

"J-Jin y-you lied!"Hoseok said stuttering.

"S-shut up my father never said anything about it," Jin said stuttering too.

"Guys did YOU NOT HEAR, Your father said about a haunted house NOT Jin's house is haunted," Namjoon said.

The two boys calm down a little bit when one shrieked.

"D-don't tell me w-we are going there," Hoseok shrieked.

"No we are not," Jimin said.

Hmmm, maybe I could find that haunted house because I always wanted to explore Taehyung thought.

"Guys we are literally standing here I am getting tried let's go inside," Yoongi said.

The 7 boys went inside of Jin's grandparent's house, Jimin knocked on the door. After somewhat a good 20 seconds the door slowly opened revealing a lady in the mid-seventies with a calm face.

"Oh hello dear you all must be Jin's friends," the lady said, her voice was smooth and calming it sounded like honey.

The 7 boys bowed to the lady before Jin greeted his grandmother. She showed all the boys their room and bathroom when she carried the convention.

"So boys are you hungry?" she asked, the boys nodded a yes as they followed the Lady through the kitchen. She took some food out and paced it on 9 plates.

"Sit sit boys just give me one minute" she gestured the boys to sit and then went some were. Bangthan sat down at there seat when Jin's grandma came with another old man which is probably Jin's grandpa so the 7 boys again bowed to the old man as he sat at his place. After a long 5 minutes of awkward silence, the grandmother broke it by telling them they can eat.

"Jin has told me a lot about you guys I have heard you are very humble but you all do fight over mini stuff," she said with her sweet voice.

"Oh really thank you Jin yes that is us," Namjoon said.

"What are you planning to do after?" She said.

"Hmm we really don't know we usually plan later or in the last minute," Namjoon said.

"Well I suggest you all go strawberry picking the season is really nice to do it," she said which they all agreed but Taehyung was staring at the old man the whole time, he was staring are the old clock which was ticking and ticking by each second.

"Yes this will be one of the best vacations... you will ever have...." the grandpa's eyes darkened by saying it in a whisper but little did they know that this vacation might have a different ending to what they expected.

The grandmother changed the topic about there schools which made the 6 boys forget about what the old man said but not Taehyung he feels something's wrong.

—

"How was the food dear?" The woman asked.

"Amazing" Yoongi said

"Awesome" Hoseok said

"Tasty" Jimin said.

"CUTE" Jungkook said.

"Cute?" The Grandmother said, "you are cute", she said squishing Jungkook's cheeks.

"Everyone likes the food thank you," Namjoon said bowing which was copied by Jungkook.

Taehyung was the last one to go but before he could someone grabbed his wrist.

"Be careful.... about the haunted...." the grandfather said to Taehyung which made him more terrified.

"Umm thank you... for the advice I will take it," Taehyung said as the old man realised Taehyung wrist.

𝗔𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗦

𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ inosuke expresses his love through acorns.

━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. thought this was cute. probably a little ooc but i tried.

━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. none. just fluff

Inosuke had this habit of gathering acorns for you. Living in the woods his whole life and growing up being raised by boars, he was very obviously one with nature. He understood it. Despite not having the same intense hearing as Zenitzu or nose like Tanjiro, he understood the way trees moved in the breeze, the way the leaves would talk to one another, and the other earthly sounds that surrounded him at all times. He wasn’t a calm and collected person, he knew that. He wasn’t quiet. He was loud, obnoxious, boisterous and lacked patience unless it benefited him.

But he knew the beauty of nature. The way trees stood tall and proud and strong, just like mountains. The way the grass sometimes sparkles after it rains or the way the sun hits the world just the right way as it comes up over the horizon. Its colors fade from the dark of night into nice oranges as the glowing sun takes its place in the sky. But his favorite is at the end of day, when the sun goes down. Where he sits, exhausted, though he’d never admit it, from the events of the day awaiting for what will happen tomorrow. He always knew of these things. Always knew that it was there. But he never took the time to take in every last detail of it. Not until you.

Inosuke liked oak trees. They were big, beautiful and strong; just like his love for you. He gave you acorns because as they were the seeds for those big strong trees, it was like he was handing out his heart to you, handing you his love. He made it his own personal mission to give them to you every chance he could.

He was like a puppy. Getting out of bed earlier than most to go out searching for the perfect acorn. It really shouldn’t take him as long as it does, but he goes through so many just to find the one that's the most shiny, the most strong, the one that will have you singing his praises. He’s inspecting every single one till he’s satisfied and soon he is at your bedside waiting for you to wake up. He could just wake you up himself, in Inosuke fashion; shaking you, loud, and rough, but you look so nice and peaceful. And he has this urge to sit there and wait.

It took a long time for him to understand what love was. At first he thought he was allergic to you. Which confused his little underlings when they demanded to know why he was avoiding you. With the heat rising to his cheeks like a fever and the red that spread over them like a rash, Inosuke assumed that he needed to stay away from you – for his safety and yours.

Tanjiro had to explain it to him. And even though Zenitzu could be found laughing in the background, Inosuke couldn’t be bothered to pay him any attention. Inosuke was too focused reveling in the fact of this new information, that he could finally put a name to what he was feeling. Because surely the redness of your cheeks and the way you stared at him for a little too long meant that you felt the same way too. (you did)

Inosuke knew that he felt weird around you. And it took a long while for him to come to terms that it was a good thing that he felt. He knew that he liked your face and he also knew that he liked being close to you. He liked when your attention was on him, and he especially liked it when you gave him praise for his strength. He also knew that he wanted to keep you safe. He was Lord Inosuke after all, it was his job to keep you safe – whether you were also a demon slayer or not.

So, he gives you acorns. He gives you only a few at a time because you only deserve the best and finding the most perfect ones is almost impossible, as he only has so much time on his hands. Between recovering and going on missions; he eats, breathes and sleeps demon slaying. He wants to be the best and the strongest. But for you, he makes time.

And you keep them. You take them from him as he gently places them into your cupped hands. Inosuke has never handled anything with such care and delicacy in his life. But your hands were so soft; are so soft. And you look so enamored, was that even the correct word? Yes, it had to be. Inosuke watches with such care and concern. You liked them right? Of course. You thank him so graciously, with a smile that could make Inosuke almost melt into a puddle. He's speechless. He doesn’t know why.

He watches as you place them with the others. In a wide mouthed clear mason jar, with a blue bow tied around the top, you reach in your hand and gently place them in. They are on display for anyone who walks into your room, and Inosuke can help but feel prideful.

But then you turn and tell him to wait. He’s confused, though he sees you rummaging through a drawer and he realizes you are looking for something. Something for him.

“This rock reminds me of my love for you. Solid and dependable. They can withstand harsh storms with unwavering strength. It’s … enduring and unyielding. Like someone's love. Some rocks may not be flashy or extravagant, but they don’t need to be. It’s just… this one, when I saw it, I knew that it was something special. Please accept this as if it is my heart.”

You held out this rock, one that Inosuke thought was so nice looking, he didn’t know how you thought it was good enough for him. It was much larger than a pebble and it looked like it was hand picked from the koi pond over at Mr. Tomiokas’ estate.

Inosuke didn’t know if it was a known fact, and honestly, Inosuke or yourself didn’t really care to find out from others – but he admired Mr. Tomioka heavily. It was either between his calm demeanor or his fighting style, but either way, Inosuke thought that he was really cool.

And maybe that admiration extended to the koi pond that Mr. Tomioka had. He liked watching the fish swimming around in the calm water, minding their own business as the world went on around them. Sometimes, when Inosuke went through a little mental crisis, he often thought about what it might be like if he were a fish. Would you love me if I were a koi fish, type thinking process. He used to think how sad that would be. No fighting? No killing demons? How boring. But sometimes, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You could keep him in a little fish tank and feed him all the tempura he wanted.

Inosuke knows better than to take one – however – because no matter how much he likes watching them he knows that he can’t take care of it. And he also knows that no one would trust him with one either. Probably thinks that he would eat it too, which he would – probably. At least, not the ones Mr. Tomioka owns. But still, sometimes he watches the Hashira feed them and he notices how the arrangement of stones seems to mirror his personality.

And here he was now, given a stone from his koi pond from you. Somewhere deep inside himself he feels a mixture of excitement and gratitude. He never really expected anything in return. He liked giving you those acorns because that was how he expressed his love for you. How he expresses his appreciation for your existence. But for you to return the sentiment was special to him. It was more than excitement and gratitude, actually. Was he flattered? Maybe that was the word. You’ve used it before when he’d given you things and the smile on your face was blinding. Yes, that was it. He was flattered, and couldn’t help feeling his face getting hot. He had never felt so paid attention to, and Inosuke couldn’t contain himself.

He held the stone in his hand. Held it with such gentleness like it was glass, like if he breathed wrong it would break into pieces. He shot forwards and grasped you into a hug. It was such an Inosuke hug that you couldn’t help but giggle as he held you. He squished you tenderly, rough enough just like Inosuke but soft enough that made you aware of how considerate to your bodily autonomy he was – it made your heart melt beautifully.

His boar head was long discarded and the warmth of his lips on yours was more than welcome.

𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗖𝗨𝗧

𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ giyuu is depressed and you take care of him.

━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. i love love love giyuu so much and i just want to give him all the love in the world. based on how i finally got thinning shears and have never been happier so i combined the two. weird concept but i enjoyed writing it.

━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. mentions of depression. may contain unhealthy hygiene habits and or unhealthy thoughts (brief s*icidal thought mention in the beginning). modern reader in kny. giyuu-centric. gender-neutral reader. 2.4k words.

Giyuu is depressed. It's not a weird phenomenon or something that people really need to think too hard about. He’s depressed and has been for a long, long time. Now in your eyes, you know that some of the other Hashira know that something is wrong. And as much as you love and appreciate the kind company of Mitsuri, Rengoku and Gyomei, sometimes you really dislike how they submit to the others when they begin to bad mouth him — behind his back and to his face.

He doesn’t take care of himself properly and it shows. It isn’t just that he has bags under his eyes that gives away that he's tired. Because he is. It’s the mix of tiredness and sadness that causes your heart to ache. His eyes express everything that he wants to say without having to say it at all. And if anyone had ever taken the time to really look at him, they would know. He looks tired of everyone and everything. He wants to go somewhere and never come back. It’s a shame a demon hadn’t killed him already, he feels. He wishes he could just die in a ditch, but that would be too good for him. But he can’t do that. Not to Sabito, not to his sister, and especially not to you.

You have been staying at his estate for months. He was surprised, like many of the other Hashira, that you have chosen him when given the choice. It had irked him at first and he wondered if this was some sick joke. But you moved in after being discharged from the Butterfly Mansion. You helped make breakfast, greeted him nicely in the morning, took the time to talk to him even if he didn't answer back. You often asked how his day was at the end of it. You thanked him too many times for him to count and Giyuu doesn’t remember being thanked this much. He doesn’t complain, but when you are more settled in as his estate being your new home he is much happier that the thanking has stopped. You didn’t invade his space disastrously, you were considerate of him and respectful. And even though he will never find himself good enough, he couldn’t say no to you when you wanted him to train you. Nothing crazy, just enough to defend yourself as you were indefinitely a long way away from home.

It really shouldn’t have come to a surprise to him that you figured out his tricks, his excuses. It wasn’t that he had ever tried to hide the fact that he wasn’t really caring for himself. No one would have noticed anyway and even if they did, they wouldn’t concern themselves too much with it. But you, on the other hand, were always keeping an eye on him closer than most. And sure there were many ways that he wasn’t taking care of himself that he could easily hide away from you if he was so adamant about it. But the one thing he couldn’t hide, from you at least, was his hair.

His hair is matted, and Giyuu will swear up and down that he does brush it. But that's a lie and you know it. He doesn’t have the motivation to sit there, whether it be in the morning or after a mission, to brush through all the knots and tangles. He's lucky he can manage enough energy to sit there in the bath till the water gets cold thinking about his life choices. But that's it. He’ll tell himself that he will wash his hair tomorrow, that he will deal with detangling it then too. He can’t even fathom doing anything else. The idea of taking the hair tie out almost makes him nauseous.

You notice this after a while. At first, you assume it's because of a mission. He lies too, and agrees. It's the easiest excuse he can come up with to keep you from worrying. Yeah, after a lengthy scuffle with a demon, it would have been safe to assume that his hair was going to get messed up. But then you notice it looks the same every time after that, even on days where he isn't being sent out. His hair looks half heartedly brushed on the top, to hide the knots probably pulling at his scalp. After staying with Giyuu for so long, you felt comfortable enough to try and help him, because you didn’t know how much longer you could watch this go on.

So here you are in Giyuu’s room. You didn’t have to plead with him too much, he had no energy to tell you that you didn’t need to. That you had no obligation to him just because you were living there. At this point, he couldn’t help but be a little selfish and grateful that an angel like you had come to save him.

On his futon, you’re taking your place behind him. He sits in between your legs. You comb and brush his hair after you had to cut the hair tie out. That's okay, you tell him. You can have one of mine, I have so many.

Your touch is so gentle and nice and Giyuu doesn’t know what to do. He almost wants to cry, honestly. Even as you take your time going through the jungle that is his hair, trying to preserve as many strands as you can. It’s taking hours, not that you mind. It’s bad and it was obvious that it was going to take a while anyway. But Giyuu can’t help feeling guilty. He knows that you offered, that it was your choice to help him, but it's late at night and you should be sleeping. Not sacrificing your time and energy on him.

However, every ounce of your touch is comforting. Even as you hit a knot. It should hurt. But it doesn’t. It can’t. Not when all he can feel is the lovely, tingly sensation that's flooding his body and mind. You even take the time to talk to him, filling the silence with your sultry voice. If it weren’t for that, he would have fallen asleep by now.

You talk to him about his hair, getting an idea of what to do. Because you can’t just leave his hair like this. As more time goes on and more clumps of hair start surrounding the sides of the futon, you realize you are going to have to cut his hair. The more the hairs start smoothing out, you see how uneven it is. One side is now longer than the other. He doesn’t want to cut all his hair off. He doesn’t want it short. He doesn’t think he can handle it being that short. Even if the change might do him some good, it’s still too much change. And you aren’t going to do anything that he doesn’t want you to.

So you suggest a clean up. You’re going to try and fix it up without cutting it too short. So afterwards, when you give one final brush through his hair, it's time to start. And Giyuu is sad? Maybe. He misses your hands in his hair a little too much. But the way you softly guide him to where his back is facing the edge of the futon. Oh boy. He knows that it really isn’t the best suited place to cut hair, but he trusts you. You are very meticulous in everything you do and very determined — happy, mind you — but determined nonetheless to finish this little project you started with him.

It really doesn’t take that long to cut it into shape. Giyuus hair is beautifully thick and after the trim, his curly waves are starting to shape up just a little bit. But something is missing. Sure, you could just tell him that you're done. Giyuu wouldn’t argue or complain. In fact, he probably would be on his knees thanking you for the tiniest bit of care. But that isn’t what you’re about to do.

Giyuu, for the first time that night, is calm. And the way you softly lean over the side of the futon to your bag and grab the thinning shears, Giyuu begins to feel something deep within himself. Perhaps it's a nice burst of anticipation. He feels tingly and happy. Giyuu heard you mention the shears before. He had never seen you use them, mainly because he had never been within his estate when you’ve decided to do so. But that doesn’t really matter.

You took the time to explain the scissors to him. Even if he already had an idea of what they were used for.

“These thinning scissors take off a lot of weight and make everything so much smoother. I don’t like my hair ending abruptly, especially if it's a bit below shoulder length. So, I’m going to smooth your hair out on the bottom so it matches this little bit over here. Okay? Okay.”

You continue to talk a little bit after that, but Giyuu doesn’t register any of it. You're doing so much for him now, almost too much. Undeservingly too much, but he doesn’t dare say a word. He just relishes in the light touch at the tips of his hair by your hand. He can feel the gentle touches at the end of his hair along his back. After taking the time to be so considerate for him he would’ve let you do whatever you wanted. And that’s what makes him feel even more. He can’t describe the feeling. But, he knows that even if he were to say that to you – that you could do whatever you wanted – you would have told him absolutely not because it was his body, his hair, his choice and it made him so humble: so comforted.

You are back behind him, standing on your knees hard at work. The gentle, soft touches had him melting and wondering what he did to deserve someone as sweet and considerate as you. Every so often you were touching the side of his face. He guessed you were fixing his bangs and the hair that framed his face, so it would match. Yes, that’s exactly what it was because you explained it to him in that beautiful, sultry voice that made it hard to focus on anything else.

And when you were done he was almost disappointed. Your touch was still buzzing along his nerves and he was desperate for attention again.

“Okay, all done.” You murmured softly to him. It was so painfully obvious that he is in some sort of bliss and you didn’t want to startle him out of it. “Go ahead and see how it looks and feels. Tell me how it is.”

You handed him a mirror and honestly, Giyuu was surprised that he was staring at himself. He looked clean? Sure, his hair was greasy. He hadn’t washed it in days and you had never once judged him for that. You had said that you’d help him with it after you cut it, so that it felt extra clean and all the little hairs from cutting would come out too.

He ran his fingers through his hair and it was so smooth.

Maybe it was smoother than you had explained or maybe it was because he combed his fingers through the entirety of his scalp, rather than just his bangs and a few pieces of caught out hair. His ends were light and feathery? The bottoms of his hair flowed nicely and now he understood what you were trying to do.

You're ushering him into the bathroom. You have to clean his futon now because you have to change the sheets. You were absent minded about it, but you were going to have to change it anyway. Giyuu hadn’t been taking care of himself obviously, that meant he hadn’t changed the sheets off of it in a while. Now you seriously had to given the fresh layer of hair covering his bed.

You did this quickly, changing the futon covers out with new ones, not stalling for time to help Giyuu wash his hair. Giyuu hadn’t even realized you would have to wash the futon tomorrow, that wasn’t a task for tonight. But by the time he’s in the water you’ve already done what you needed to do in his room and now your hands were back in his hair.

You scrub his hair and lather the shampoo, and for the thousandth time that night he wonders just how lucky he is. He wonders who allowed him to have this. Who allowed him to experience such love and care.

Now he’s tired, so incredibly tired that he really doesn’t know what to do. Well, no that isn't very true, he knows exactly what to do. Absolutely nothing. He’s out of the bath and in bed momentarily. No time was wasted. He can barely keep his eyes open by now. The futon is fresh and he’s in his sleeping clothes. He’s laying on top of you as if he were a warm blanket. He thinks, oh so briefly, about moving. You might get uncomfortable or sweat or get crushed by him during the night. But then that thought went away quickly. Faded away, never to return because you are running your fingers through his hair still.

It's like a reward at this point. He feels the need to be thanking you profusely, but he can barely utter a sound. If he were a dog, his tail would probably be wagging violently. No matter how long you’ve been together he is still touch starved. Sometimes he doesn’t allow himself the opportunity or luxury of you. You're too good for him – he doesn’t think he will ever stop thinking about it. But you’re patient with him and it makes his heart whole.

૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა thanks for reading babes ⊹

𝗚𝗜𝗬𝗨𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗦 𝗔 𝗖𝗥𝗨𝗦𝗛

𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ giyuu is wholeheartedly in love with you.

━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. no bc i am making this man a pathetic simp for you idc. im writing these with myself in mind so yk, i have to pour out my feelings. and also i need to get all this giyuu writing off my chest, its actually a problem the fixation i have on this man but no fics tickle my brain just right so i have to write them myself

━ 𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. btw thank you so much for all the love and support on my last two posts. literally you all are so incredibly sweet !! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ i just graduated college so i might have a bit more time to write but no promises!

━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. none. giyuu might be a little ooc. modern reader in kny. i rewrote this a few times so pls be nice 🤧. 1.4k words.

━ 𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩. im just going though and adding a synopsis and fixing my titles. og title: falling for you.

Giyuu actually doesn’t know how this occurred. No, actually that was a lie. He knew how this happened, but didn’t at the same time. And honestly speaking, the man does not care at all. You were so nice and sweet to Giyuu it made his head spin. Like it makes him ill in the best way imaginable. He doesn’t understand why you want to be around him so much, why you want to be his friend – not that he minds – but he just can’t get past his own indiscretions about himself. That was until you told him to his face.

You tell him that you thought he was cute – I'm sorry? – and you liked how calm he was – really? His brain can’t compute anything that you say. He doesn’t know if you need any medical assistance or he’s just dreaming. But it makes you laugh. The cute, dumb look on his face as he stands there, gaping at you like a fish.

It wasn’t like it was new information. You did enjoy his company the most. He was very quiet and by no means were you either, but you have this habit of matching the energy of people you were with. So, it was almost relaxing and refreshing spending time with Giyuu. Though Giyuu is silent most of the time, he does in fact talk. At first it's about a mission he was on recently, if and most likely when he gets more comfortable with you, he’s talking a little more in depth about random things that are on his brain. It's endearing really. Or sometimes he’s just talking about things that he thinks you might like to know, random facts, and so on.

But sometimes you do the talking and he likes that too. You could talk for hours and he could listen to every word you have to say. He would soak it up like a sponge as you focus your eyes on the crochet hooks weaving in front of you. Your voice is quiet and nice, soft and warm sounding.

This typically happens when you visit his estate. And you visit his estate a lot. Maybe Giyuu was a little disappointed that you weren’t staying with him, but he knows that he shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds. He’s lucky enough to see you this much, as much as he's lucky to see you at all. He can’t be too mad though. Mitsuri has jumped you the first moment she got when the Master had brought up your living arrangements. You had nowhere to go. And honestly, Giyuu may have been a little relieved that Mitsuri of all people had gotten to you first.

He really wouldn’t have minded if it had been Rengoku or Gyomei. For obvious reasons, Rengoku would be happy to have him stopped by and probably Gyomei too, because it seems like they don’t have a bone to pick with him. Honestly speaking, he wouldn’t have minded Muichiro either, though the boy would have probably forgotten your existence within the day. But any of the others, the thought made his skin crawl for plenty of reasons. Maybe it was because it would have become a hassle, or he would be harassed every time he went to visit you. Yes, it does seem on par with him that might just avoid you so you don’t get verbally assaulted like he does if you were to associate with him. But he was a lonely, pathetic man who was enamored with you at first glance the minute you showed up out of nowhere and he couldn’t help but thank the heavens that the stars had aligned so nicely for him – even if he felt he didn’t deserve it.

His only issue with the arrangement was Obanai. The man had almost butchered him on numerous occasions just for showing up to the Love estate. Even if he wasn’t there for Mitsuri, the Serpent Hashira didn’t seem to care. Maybe it was funny the first few times – it actually wasn’t – but you really couldn’t keep your mouth shut anymore. Obanai was wearing you thin with his commentary. Everytime Giyuu was around, it was like the others just couldn’t help themselves by making a comment insulting the man. Maybe it was because you didn’t want to disrespect a Hashira, especially if four of them were in the room with you, but Giyuu was here to see you, and it was almost like insulting Giyuu was an insult to you for wanting to spend time with him.

Mitsuri was okay with Giyuu coming to visit you, she actually encouraged it. So watching Mitsuri stand behind you while you gave Iguro a piece of your mind was something Giyuu didn’t know he needed to see until then. And maybe he did allow himself to feel a little selfish and smile mentally. He still remembers how Iguro had this look of disdain on his face, simultaneously looking like a scolded child and embarrassed because this was happening in front of Mitsuri.

Giyuu wondered if you caught the look that Obanai and Kaburamaru were giving you – if looks could kill and all that – but that was stupid. You most certainly did and just didn’t care enough. And Giyuu also wonders just what kind of sorcery you have, because he did hear you mention Sanemi by name at some point and now he's not bothering him as much, especially when you are around.

It wasn’t like he could do anything about it, not like he had ever done anything about it in the past. He never really had the heart to correct anyone in their assumptions of him, he never really thought he had to. Though, that mainly was because he thought he deserved such mistreatment. Regardless, it didn’t matter how he felt about it and himself. If you enjoyed his company that much to defend him, he was going to provide as much of it as you wanted. But there was something about it that made his heart swell a little bit bigger and flooded him with enough warmth that you could have mistaken it as him having a fever.

Now here the two of you were, sitting outside the Water Estate. You both had taken your places by the koi pond Giyuu has. It's so calm and cool. The soft moving of water could be heard every time the wind blew just enough, as well as the sharp sound of water splashing because some fish got too close to the surface.

Giyuu isn’t losing himself as he stares at the pond, watching the fish move around. He finds himself mesmerized though, as you talk. It’s nice, as usual. He likes how you talk and the way you talk. He could listen to you for hours and never get tired of hearing you. And he knows that if he glances at you now, even briefly, he wouldn’t be able to look away. You just look so… wonderful. It makes him dizzy. But he has such a weak will to do so, and now he's staring at you. Eyes soft and relaxed. He has never felt so content.

Giyuu doesn’t know if he realizes what kind of situation he is in. Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s finally realizing just how much of an effect you have on him. He likes you. He likes you beyond anything in the world. He loves you and everything about you.

You don't notice him staring. You’re too busy weaving the crochet hook in and out of your craft. You make it look so effortless. So enjoyable. And you seem so happy crocheting away as you speak. The way you talk and do it at the same time, you're so smart. You have to be. And Giyuu can’t help but hope you don’t look up. You’re as mesmerized with your work as he is with you. He would die though, if you caught him. The thought makes him sweat almost, being so close to you like this. His hands are clammy, and he's never been this nervous.

Yeah, he definitely has it bad for you. And for the first time in a while, even despite his nerves, he found the corners of his lips curling upwards, in a soft and timid smile. He averts his eyes, almost to gather his bearings, but that isn't enough. The subtle flush creeping onto his cheeks betrayed him. But he couldn’t be more delighted.

thank you for reading !! ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა