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#but please at least glance through the basics of the theory if you're going to declare it wrong
makeste · 3 years
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How does Bakugo go back in time? Why change his hair color? Many characters now know the existence of OFA and Bakugo has yet to go back in time yet, which means there’s even less reason for him to be the only candidate. Why would Aiazawa or the other teachers allow a 16 year old to back in time to the darkest age of quirks and abandon his future and family? Why would the mom agree to never see her son again when there’s other candidates? How come Deku doesn’t reconcile his voice?
again, just a friendly reminder here that the "into the Bakuverse" theory is NOT bak-u-go. please read this post, anon, literally all of these questions are addressed there.
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slashbitch2 · 3 years
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The Very Nosy Neighbour
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this fic was 100% inspired by this one here , but I mean it practically wrote itself I couldn't resist
NSFW
You can't remember much past waking up in an unfamiliar room- though 'room' is really a sugarcoated description, as in reality it qualifies more as some kind of cavern. You're sitting in a chair, ankles and wrists bound by an indistinguishable material. Whatever the binds are made of feels strong, so any attempts to struggle against it are futile. Yet, in spite of what really should be an extremely stressful situation, you find yourself completely relaxed. You briefly wonder whether you've been drugged, but with every sense feeling fully operational, that theory is soon dismissed.
Instead of choosing a more logical response to the circumstances you've found yourself in, you decided to focus more on your surroundings: not to form any resemblance of an escape plan, but simply out of curiosity. Although, the investigation is equally as ineffective. You're unable to name anything around you except for stone walls, strange (glowing?) vines and weird symbols carved above a few archways. Everything beyond that is either entirely lost to you, or shrouded in darkness.
With little else to do, you start to think back on the events that led you there, trying to glean any useful information from the blurry memories. The clearest image, therefore the most recent, is the smirking face of a woman, Agnes you realise. Though the malicious glint in her eyes doesn't quite match your perception of the nosy neighbour. But where is she now? Is she also in danger? You may not have known Agnes for very long, but are reluctant to let any harm come to her regardless.
With a clearer head, you consider calling for help, but a small voice at the back of your subconscious warns you against this. And the voice sounds smart, so you elect to listen to it. But what should you do instead? Where did this voice come from? And most importantly, should you trust it? Luckily, you aren't given much time to overthink the decision.
While trying to tune into this voice, footsteps echo in the distance, gradually drawing nearer. You hold your breath as the sound suddenly stops, leaving your eyes scanning the vicinity for any movement. The unpleasant reality dawns on you all too quickly: the footsteps were approaching from behind you.
“Well, well, well.” Someone says playfully, then snorts as they start walking closer. "Sorry to be a total cliché. I couldn't resist." It's Agnes. She narrows her eyes and smirks, folding her arms as she examines your constrained form. Subjected to her scrutiny, you find yourself swallowing, but your throat is too dry. Other small discomforts also become noticeable; your cramped limbs, aching back and the bruises on your hands. Well at least you put up a fight. The more rational part of you, however, realises that your hands are no longer bound. You stare down at them, flexing each finger as if checking they were all still fully functional.
Something suddenly knocks into your head and you grimace. Left reeling from the impact, you realise that you're slightly nauseated. Though not enough to stop you from reaching out to grasp the floating cup of water. The fact that the glass is suspended in mid-air doesn't go unnoticed, rather ignored, since there's too much happening simultaneously to comprehend any of it in sufficient detail. You swirl the liquid round, hesitant to drink, unwilling to trust your captor's apparent mercy.
"Drink up, dear." Agnes drags a chair forward, which seems to have just appeared out of thin air. She sits backwards on it, legs spread and arms resting on the back casually. "That's all you're getting until we're done here." The tone of her voice is both threatening and teasing. You're reluctant to admit it's quite a turn on.
One glance up at her prying expression and you relent, downing the chilled water way too quickly. Though you aren't given a chance to mourn your impatience, as with an effortless wave of her hand, Agnes refills the glass. While you sip at the water, she refuses to tear her eyes away from you for even a second. It's slightly disconcerting.
“Now," She claps her hands, startling you. "I assume you know why you’re here?”
“Not really.” You confess, unable to pinpoint why anyone would go to so much effort to kidnap you, especially Agnes, who up to this point had been an eccentric yet kind neighbour.
She sighs, more for show than anything else, and rubs at her temple. "Come on Y/N, let's not play dumb now."
Embarrassingly, a heat begins to pool deep in your gut, but you quickly dismiss the unwarranted lust. "I don't know what you mean."
"Oh really?" She quirks an eyebrow, sitting upright. "You really have no idea?" The inquiry is ridiculing, and you can see that your naivety is starting to annoy her.
All you can do is shake your head and pray the sincerity is reflected in your eyes.
"Okay." She slams her hands down on her thighs. "I guess we'll have to go about this the hard way then, toots." A sharp gesture and your hands are bound before you once again.
By the time you're looking up, she's striding toward you with purpose, which does nothing to ease the building heat between your legs. Her hands clasp on the armrests either side, essentially trapping you, not like escape would've been possible without the extra precaution. Up close you finally recognize this isn't Agnes- in fact it never has been. There's a feral yet wise appearance to her, the facade of nosy neighbour dissolved in an instance to be replaced by a deranged, frighteningly powerful woman (or witch, you're undecided).
Despite your better judgement, you're unable to stop yourself from asking. "Who are you?" Your voice barely breaches a whisper, but she's standing close enough that nothing less intimate is required.
She looks mildly impressed, the corner of her mouth twitching almost indiscernibly. "Agatha Harkness." She extends a hand, smirking upon realisation that you're a little too tied up at the minute to reciprocate. "Lovely to meet you."
You swallow again, finding your throat to be a little less dry. "Likewise." Then decide to take another risk. "So what do you want from me?"
“Wanda's true identity.” She replies so quickly that you almost miss it, looking at you with an eagerly expectant expression.
Agatha's question confuses you further. “I don’t know what you mean.” Although your answer is honest, something at the back of your mind hisses lies.
"There's no need to lie here." Her patient humour had disappeared. "Trust me, no one will hear you, so drop the act."
For some unbeknown reason, her accusation angers you. "I'm not putting on an act, I don't know why I'm here or what you want from me." The bravery dissipates all of a sudden as you remember that you're not exactly in the position to command such authority. "Please, stop this."
Agatha purses her lips, stands up and turns away from you. She calmly moves forwards a few paces, and in the short amount of time you manage to convince yourself that she's given up. Until in a completely unprovoked move, she swings her hands to the left, sending her chair crashing into the wall in frustration. Whether this is part of her interrogation performance or not, it works. Your heart starts racing, and confusingly, the awkward heat between your legs pulses.
She runs a hand through her hair, still facing away from you. "Don't make this any harder harder than it needs to be." You can practically hear her grinding her teeth, but don't doubt that she was getting some enjoyment out of the situation.
"I can tell you that Wanda is my sister and only real family, that I moved to Westview with her and that I couldn't live without her." You start listing off some basic facts, desperate to prove to Agatha that nothing is hidden. That you're normal.
"What about your brother?" She swivels round, clicking her fingers as she tries to recall something. "Pietro!" She exclaims.
"Pietro..." You falter. Why does the name sound so familiar? The nausea worsens. You shake off the feeling. "Never heard of him."
“Liar.” In one swift movement, Agatha is right by your ear. The feeling of her lips brushing against your skin causes you to close your eyes. The close proximity was becoming overwhelming, and your body had chosen to react in a rather unfortunate way. Admittedly, you'd always had a thing for Agnes, but Agatha was on a whole other level. You dreaded to open your eyes, worried that she'd noticed your current state. Instead, you internally begged for mercy.
“Don't go all shy on me now.” She pushes your shoulder into the chair, compelling you to open your eyes. "If you don't want to talk, I have other methods." Her hand raises, a purple flow emanating from the tips of her fingers. It crackles and sparks, as if the power was barely contained, yet as she shifts closer to brush the hair out of your face, you don't flinch. One finger remained touching your forehead, then traced down to your jaw, and finally along to grasp your chin.
While the vaguely sinister movement terrified you, it also forced you hold your breath and grip onto the armrests for dear life. Why you'd decided this was hot was beyond you considering the many connotations of her words, yet your thighs pressed tighter together as she drew closer. You attempted to turn your head to the side, longing for distraction, but her hold on you kept your head still.
"This won't be much fun for you, dear." She sighed in mock pity, her breath hot against your skin... Which just tipped you over the edge. As hard as you tried to stifle the noise, a broken moan escaped your lips. You'd definitely hit a low point here. Too ashamed to face your apparent arousal, you screwed your eyes shut. Although, at Agatha's silence, you relented and opened them barely a minute later.
To your relief, or perhaps dismay, the woman was grinning like a maniac. Her eyes flickered down to your parted lips as she chewed on her own. Then carefully, as if she were testing the waters, her fingers began to rub against your jaw, and upwards to your mouth. Your breath deceives you by hitching as her thumb slips between your lips, stroking your tongue. At the contact, you can't help but arch into the touch. Agatha chuckles.
"I take it back." She murmurs, removing her hand. "This will be fun." Although the intimidation factor prevails, there's a certain desire mirrored in Agatha's expression which cancels out any remaining common sense. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and even if you wanted to, there was little you could do to stop her. So, you give into your yearning, sighing as she climbs to sit on your lap. Immediately, her hand switches to gripping the back of your neck as she slams her mouth onto yours. You willingly indulge by opening further, allowing her tongue to slide between your lips. Her other hand lowers to grab at your chest, like she were trying to tug herself impossibly closer.
Without removing her lips, the hand massaging your chest shifts to your thigh. She still keeps her lips firmly pressed to yours, and with the lack of oxygen, you can feel yourself growing lightheaded. It almost feels like a challenge, one which you're determined to succeed at. Though when she eventually does break away, her hand suddenly slips between your thighs, and your breath is stolen from you once more. Wasting no time, she massages you through your clothes, dragging out an inevitable whine. The touch is both too much, and not enough. But judging by her malevolent smirk, that was exactly her intention.
Even though you were currently incapable of producing any reasonable thought, you still noticed that Agatha wasn't entirely unaffected. Her breathing was laboured, hips occasionally jerking against your thigh and eyes struggling to stay open. The influence you were having on her only encouraged you to moan louder, craving to see her equally dishevelled. Your plan seemed to momentarily fail as her hand retreated. But you'd certainly earned her attention.
She licks her lips, then abruptly changes her expression to look disturbingly like that of Agnes. "You wouldn't leave me out of the fun now, would you dear?" Her voice is high pitched as she basically sings her words. Although the question must've been rhetorical as doesn't await a response, instead you find your hands unbound, flung behind your back and bound together all in a matter of seconds. Then, she shifted her position, yanking your bodies closer so that your crotches were pressed together. She grunts, heaving forward to rest against you for a moment and regain her composure. And finally, without warning, starts to grind your hips together.
It doesn't take long for her movement to become more frantic, accompanied by her hair spilling onto her face. She remains impressively quiet, however, or perhaps you were just comparably loud. With the little pride you have left, you decide to take matters into your own hands, and start meeting each thrust with equal vigour. Miraculously, it works. She throws her head back with a remarkably loud moan, proceeded by change in strategy as she starts almost bouncing on top of you, hips losing their rhythm, pleasure overwhelming her. Startled by her lack of self-control, the heat in your stomach begins building exponentially fast. Your eyes slam shut.
A hand grasps onto your face. “Look at me!” She growls, then emphasises her demand by rolling her hips torturously slowly. The movement ceases. She leans her forehead against yours, staring directly into your eyes. “Come with me.” To your surprise, there's an audible plea in her voice.
At a loss for words, you nod. The pleasure had been building for so long that you knew it'd only take a few more grinds to push you over the edge. With your confirmation, Agatha resumes her thrusting, though soon succumbs, throwing her head back and uttering an exceptionally loud, high-pitched moan. She arches her back, pressing herself so far into you that the pleasure peaks. You groan, lurching backwards in a moment of pure bliss. All you can feel is Agatha, all you can think about is Agatha. Coming down from the high, you sigh and collapse forward to bury your face in the crook of her neck.
She tenses slightly at the contact, but soon relaxes into the strange embrace. You gently press your lips against her skin and feel her shiver, confirming your suspicion that it'd been a while since Agatha had received such affection. Motivated by a new, more innocent desire, you continue to pepper light kisses across her throat and behind her ear, simply enjoying the unexpectedly intimate moment.
Agatha finally breaks the silence, leaning away from your touch to look down at you curiously. "Wanda really has you under her mind control too, huh?"
Although still stuck in a post-coital haze, you muster enough brainpower to consider her words. "Mind control?"
"Oh, right." She smirks, a slight sadness perceptible in her eyes. "Forgot to mention." Before you can say anything, she swings one leg to the side, stiffly sliding off your lap and clasping her hands together. "You might want to reconsider where your loyalties lie, dear." She glances at you, then ambles to the opposite side of the room. "That's one fucked up family situation right there." Her voice teasingly calls out.
You feel yourself flush, strangely offended by her comment, and annoyed by her vagueness. "Like you can talk." Your response is a total shot in the dark, but must've hit a nerve since she slowly turns back to you, a suspicious expression upon her face. "Just a guess." You add, unwilling to know the details of whatever sensitive topic you'd just touched upon. Agatha easily shrugs it off, leaving behind a stifling silence. Eventually, it's a mixture of your own boredom and concern that prompts you to end the lull in conversation. "Are you still planning on interrogating me about something I know nothing about?"
"Oh, no I read your mind." She waves a dismissive hand over her shoulder. "Got all I needed."
Again, you're left suffocating in the confusion her ambiguity provokes, with nothing else to ask except. "How...?"
The inquiry must've been exactly what Agatha wanted to hear as she immediately dropped what she was doing to turn around and lean on the wall, arms folded in a casually smug pose. "Sex leaves you vulnerable." She smirked. "All I did was take advantage of the opportunity- but I'll spare you the boring details." With a flourish of her hand and a flash of purple, the binds holding your ankles and wrists disappeared. "You can go now. First door on the left."
Without sparing you another glance, she busied herself with some witchy task, allowing you to see yourself out. Massaging your wrists, you stood slowly, watching her expectantly. Surely she wouldn't just let you leave? Yet as you sauntered over to the door she'd directed you to, she made no move to stop you. "Bye then?"
Agatha looked up at you and winked. "See you around, neighbour."
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seeuonadarknite · 4 years
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freak — yandere oikawa tooru x f. reader
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warnings: noncon, bullying, degradation, creampie, hickeys, exhibitionism
Milk bread? Check. Coffee? Got it. Gum?
"Shit!" The sound of your school loafers pattering against the sidewalk resonated throughout the desolate road as you hastily detoured back to the gas station. You were probably the store's first customer of the day, and here you were ever so graciously returning because you forgot something as minimal as chewing gum.
Any sane person would forget the gum and continue their journey towards the school. But you were far from that. You had to have a few screws loose if you willingly took time out of your day to cater to your high school bully and buy him a few of his favorite snacks. Hell, his friends have even dubbed you as his little admirer due to your obedient nature.
But you weren't catering to his needs like some sort of servant because you wanted to impress him. The only thing that kept you from smacking him across the face and calling him a stuck up jerk was pure fear. You're not some masochist that enjoys being taken advantage of by someone with a power imbalance over you all because of his stupid social status, but your options are limited.
It's either play along with his brutal torment for the rest of the last semester, or try and defend yourself and place a giant target on your back for his vicious fan girls. And even if you tried fighting him back, you wouldn't even need to be outnumbered by his friends to lose. We're talking about the Grand King here. He'd take you down by himself in a matter of seconds.
As hard as it was being seen as a freak that embraced Oikawa's torment, you'd much rather lose your dignity rather than your own safety. If Oikawa told those girls that you tried laying a pretty little finger on him, he'd be throwing you into a pit of rabid wolves to shred you apart and eat you alive.
Plus, you weren't as bad as everyone made you out to be. If there was anything Oikawa was better at other than playing volleyball, it was lying. He could spread a rumor about you robbing a damn bank and not a single person would bat an eye at his impossible claim. The fact that he has the entire school body in the palm of his hand is more than unsettling. Saying you weren't interested in testing his immeasurable power was an understatement.
Sprinting over to the spot behind the school that Oikawa was oh so keen on meeting you at, your heavy pants soon turned into wheezes. God, you were only three minutes late but you were shaking like a leaf. If anything positive came out of this situation, it was that you learned that it'd be a good idea to bring a grocery list next time, and maybe some water.
"You're late, [y/n]. Care to explain?" It wasn't hard to miss the irritation that laced the normally cheerful male's tone. Lo and behold, Oikawa was already stood at your regular spot, looking as cocky and smug as ever. There was nothing that excited him more than watching your face visibly drop at the sight of his presence. What, did you really think you'd get by with being even a second late? Time was precious, and you weren't going to get away with wasting his.
Oikawa basked in the way you powerlessly trembled as he made his way towards you. You didn't even bother trying to cower away, it was priceless! Placing a hand on your chin, he forcefully tilted your head upwards and rubbed a thumb over your lower lip. "I-I'm sorry! I.. I forgot the gum.." He shot you a glare. "B-But I went back and got it! That's why I'm a little late.." You could barely even muster up a coherent response, you were so nervous.
Judging by the way he ripped the grocery bag out of your hand and began rummaging through the contents of the bag, he was not buying your excuse. Picking up the can of cold coffee you had specifically picked out for him, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "You got me the kind with creamer. Are you trying ruin my perfect body image?"
Diverting his gaze from the coffee to you, he sent you an expectant look. If you didn't come up with a reasonable excuse within the course of a few seconds, Oikawa would make you regret waking up this morning. "This was the last one left! I'm sorry—" Lies. You cut yourself off as you felt a cold, sticky substance run down your chest and seep through your school uniform.
He was pouring the coffee you had paid for all over your chest, wearing a sickeningly sweet smile while doing so. You couldn't tell what was more discomforting, the feeling of ice cold coffee sticking to your skin, dripping all the way down to your bellybutton, or the unsettlingly lustful gaze Oikawa held on your figure. He had to be joking. Sure, he was a jerk that got off on making your life a living hell, but he never took it to such perverse extents.
"Aww, you look so cute with your tits covered in coffee. You must be freezing! I'll warm you up." Somehow the idea of him warming you up sent chills running up your spine. There was no way in hell he was about to do something thoughtful like giving you his jacket or helping you clean up the mess he deliberately made.
Forcefully grabbing you by the shoulders, Oikawa shoved you onto the cement with ease, watching your face contort into a cringe. You could already feel the rough texture of the ground scraping at your skin through the thin fabric of your uniform. Was he about to beat the shit out of you? Why was he looking down at you like a starved carnivore?
Instead of answering the questions rapidly flowing through your head, Oikawa straddled your waist with both lanky legs. However, instead of trying to fight him back, you stare at him with a dejected look in hopes of him hurrying up whatever the hell he planned on doing.
"Now, I'm sure you're not big on getting attacked by my loyal fans. So do me a massive favor and be quiet, alright?" You wanted to wipe the stupid smirk right off of his face as he basically threatened you. This man was about to use you for his own personal pleasure and there was nothing you could do about it.
Glancing down at your glossy eyes one last time, Oikawa basks in the fearful expression that adorns your face. Making quick work of your coffee stained uniform, he popped open the buttons, giving himself a clear frontal view of your sticky cleavage.
A small smirk tugged at his lips as he glanced down at the lacy bra that adorned your body. "Not only have you decided to wear such a lewd piece of clothing, but you wore the kind that snaps open in the front? Ahh, you must want me to fuck you."
Oikawa wasted no time in snapping open your bra, allowing your breasts to spring free. Both of your tits were on perfect display for the setter's hungry eyes to gaze at. You felt powerless and small under his primal stare. It couldn't possibly get any more worse than this.
Maybe the rumors were right, maybe you were a tad bit unhinged. Any sane person would've seen this coming from a fucking psychopath like Oikawa. "P-Please.. don't do this.." You gave pleading one last shot as you stared pathetically into his chocolate brown eyes that gleamed with amusement.
Unfortunately for you, your doe eyes only seemed to egg the cocky brunette on as he roughly clasped your breasts with each hand. Although the uncomfortable, yucky feeling of coffee sticking to your skin still lingered, the only thing you could zero in on was your tormentor's working hands as he squeezed your hardened nipples in between his slender fingers.
He was squeezing and fondling your sensitive mounds like stress balls. Did he forget that you were a human just like him? Has he really amounted you to a mere plaything for him to toy with whenever he pleased? With the way that his hands kneaded and pulled at your breasts like dough, you were beginning to think that your theories were correct.
His half lidded eyes flicker up to yours for a split second, allowing him to witness the deliciously mortified expression you wore. Within a fluid movement, Oikawa leans down and traps your lips in a ferocious kiss. It started off with just Oikawa forcefully merging his lips onto yours, but with the squeeze of your breast you regretfully gasped, allowing passageway for his wet appendage.
It's hard to decipher what's more uncomfortable; the feeling of Oikawa's tongue swishing around yours, rendering it nearly impossible to breathe or the obvious hard on he has rubbing up against your skin. When he finally pulls away, his breaths are heavy and uneven.
Hooking his fingers under the waistbands of your skirt and panties, Oikawa tugs the elastics down, watching as your slick strings down along with your panties. Crimson shaded your cheeks as you averted your gaze from Oikawa's. If there was any possible way of coping with the mortifying situation at hand, it'd be closing your eyes and pretending to be anywhere but where you were.
Unfortunately for you, sight wasn't your only sense. Shutting your eyes wouldn't stop you from hearing the sound of Oikawa's belt buckle clinking, and it wouldn't prevent you from feeling his hardened cock running across your thigh. Opening your eyes, you couldn't help the audible gasp that escaped your lips as you gazed at his cock. It was as big in girth and in length as all of his fan girls had claimed. You really hoped that they had been bluffing.
Oikawa seemed to appreciate your unwavering eyes, as he prodded the tip of his cock at your hole. "Wait! Please, don't.. At least use a rubber." You pleaded, trying your hardest not to let any lewd noises to escape your mouth as he began easing his head into the walls of your cunt. However, all your pleading did was evoke an amused chuckle from the man top of you.
"Aww, that's all you're worried about? Don't worry, I'll pull out," He coos, grabbing the curves of your hips to steady himself as he pushes himself further inside of your pulsating hole. As uncomfortable as the foreign feeling of Oikawa's massive cock pushing your walls apart was, you felt a small wave of relief wash over you upon hearing his response.
He seemed to notice the look of relief taking over your features, because he sent you an ear to ear grin that put the cheshire cat to shame. With a forceful thrust that would surely leave you sore, Oikawa finally pushes the rest of his length into the constricting walls of your cunt. "..after I cum inside of you!" He grabs onto your legs and folds them into your chest within a fluid movement, making it easier for his cock to reach spots your measly fingers would never be able to find.
He either didn't notice or decided to ignore the the way your body physically tensed at his response. He was joking. Right? Sure, he obviously knew no boundaries and had no problem using and abusing your body, but you assumed he had the smallest bit of self control. Maybe you were thinking too highly of him.
Rearing his hips back a fraction, Oikawa thrusts back into you, already kissing the tip of your cervix with the head of his cock. His pace starts off slow and steady, allowing your insides to memorize each and every curve and vein on his cock. If you weren't so upset with him for doing this against your will, you would've been appreciative of his benign thrusts.
Glancing up at the clock that hung from the back of the school, Oikawa cringed. He had to make this quick. His comfortable, languid pace quickens as soon as you can relax. The once quiet spot behind the school is soon filled with sounds of grunts, moans, and ear deafening slaps. Any regard for your personal comfort is gone out the window, as he thrusts in and out of you at a rapid, unrhythmic pace.
He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, running his lips over the sensitive skin whilst his hips smack against yours at what feels like one hundred miles per hour. "Maybe I'll mark you. Nobody else will be allowed to fuck you like this, only me.." If your mind wasn't zeroed in on the feeling of his balls slapping your rear at full speed, you would of picked up on the hint of possessiveness in his tone.
Eyes trained on the skin of your neck, Oikawa began sucking and nibbling, leaving a trail of purple bruises starting from your neck and ending at your chest. It was a mystery how he managed to create love bites and brutally fuck your hole at the same time.
Just the twitch of his cock causes your insides to squeeze at his length like a snake constricting around its victim. "Fuck, you're really tight, huh?" He grunted in your ear, basking in the way your insides devoured his throbbing cock with each and every thrust.
As Oikawa somehow managed to fasten his pace, he moved his hand down south, placing the pads of his fingers onto your swollen nub. If you weren't close before, you definitely were now. With the pressure of his fingers working absolute wonders on your clit, and his throbbing cock desperately pushing at your cervix, your body begged you for release. A small knot formed in your abdomen as his movements quickened, and your plushy walls began clamping down on Oikawa's cock.
With one last harsh hit to your cervix, you come undone, gushing your juices all over his twitching cock. As soon as you reach your well awaited climax, your vision begins to spot and your brain starts to fog. You were far too dazed to focus in on Oikawa hooking his arms over your thighs and slamming himself into your aching hole at a ferocious pace. "Aw, what a little baby! You came so fast." He taunted in your ear, half lidded eyes trained on your figure as he pummeled into you with hostile thrusts.
Although he teased you for releasing so fast, he felt his own climax arise with the way your innards hugged his cock. All it took was one last final thrust into the milking clutch of your cunt before he reached his end, hitting your swollen cervix one last time to shoot his load into your womb with a drawn out groan. God, he didn't regret ditching his condom for a second. Seeing his hot, thick fluids seep from your quivering hole boosted his already inflated ego. Only he was capable of leaving you like this.
Sliding his cock out of your dripping cunt, Oikawa watched as you sat up from your spot on the cement and began buttoning up your shirt. Cute, now coffee wasn't the only sticky substance splattered all over your skin.
After pulling his pants back up and fixing his disheveled hair, he helped you up from the ground. It would've been a kind gesture, if he hadn't followed it by forcefully tugging your panties back up with a condescending grin. "Don't go to the bathroom or wash up. If you do, I'll fuck you again and cum inside of you twice. Don't forget, I have eyes everywhere." His voice was disturbingly cheerful for the unsettling words that came from his mouth.
Sending you one last signature grin, he flashed a peace sign at you like you were one of his fan girls asking for a picture. It baffled you how two faced he could be at times. "See you later, slut!" He giggled before leaving you alone at the scene, drenched in all kinds of different liquids.
Whoever told you that high school was going to be easy was lying through their teeth.
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youremeimyou · 4 years
Text
Old Lovers
pairing: Min Yoongi x reader genre: angst with sprinkles of fluff, ex-boyfriend au word count: almost 5k warning: some passionate kissing
Description: Min Yoongi is your ex-boyfriend that you’ve parted ways not on the greatest of terms with. But in the makings of a mixtape, somethings will be rekindled. Will it be friendship or maybe more?
A/N: I’ve started writing this so long ago but only recently got to finish it. I haven’t been able to post any fics in a while even though I’ve got a lot of wip. I’m graduating uni and my life’s basically a chaos right now. But I liked writing this a lot. I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think of it :) [posting again cuz it’s not showing on tags ughh]
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Going back to school has never been this painful to you before. Of course assingments, exams and longer than necessary lectures were always there to welcome you back to hell every year but no new semester intimidated you quite like this one does. Especially after the very much disconnected summer break you had.
Spending the summer in your hometown of Gwangju was a rushed decision that was actually forced upon you at the time. But it turned out to be exactly what you needed. At least, Hoseok made sure that it was. Being your life-long friend, he took matters into his own hands when you couldn't pull yourself together after the rough patch you've been through. The Hoseok-ie rule he called it: No getting in touch with anyone in Seoul. And while it was a little hard not reaching out to close friends in Seoul, you couldn't risk breaking the Hoseok-ie rule. He's sweet and you love him but that guy is one scary motherfucker when he's pissed.
Now, summertime's over and you're definetely not prepared to face your demons. It doesn't help that Hoseok's classes aren't starting until next week, either. That means you have to go through this alone.
On your way from the subway station to the campus, you check the new weekly schedule once more and it makes you let out a dissappointed huff. You can't blame anyone. You made this schedule. But do you have any idea why you decided to put music theory at 9 in the morning while you were making it? No.
Your legs take action before you know it and suddenly you're now turning to the other street. They continue to take you through another familiar path. As you close in on the shop at the corner, the calming smell of coffee reaches your nose and you realise why coming here was more tempting than attending class.
This coffee shop was your safe haven for the past three years and this semester isn't going to be any different. Even though it's so close to campus, not many people know about it and it's never hectic. Which is something you love and right now, definetely need. Some peace and quiet before starting the semester...
You enter and head straight to the barista, who happens to be a friend of yours since you're a regular.
"Hey Ryu."
"Well well, if it isn't Miss I'll come everyday this summer that never showed up once." Ryu has sarcasm alongside with mischief in his voice.
"I know but Hoseok kept me in Gwangju as a prisoner the whole summer, I'm sorry."
"Where's that dancing machine?"
"He doesn't have classes until next week so it's just me for now." You're still not over the fact he left you on your own for the first week.
"It's fine, you're not alone. Look!" Ryu points to the back where the tables are. You're confused as to who he could be pointing at. You and Hoseok are the only ones you know that come here- except...
In a flash, you stop turning around and hurriedly order a black coffee. "Please make it quick." you plead quietly but what's done is done, he already knows you're here. In fact you can hear footsteps approaching.
"That drink was great, dude. What's it called again?" He appears on your right side in his all-black outfit with a snapback. Nothing's changed about him, you think. Except you see some of his hair through the hat and it seems to be bleached. Something he hasn't done for a while. For the two years you two were together, to be exact.
"Oh, it's called yuanyang. You think I should put it on the menu?"
"Definetely, go for it."
It seems like he doesn't even acknowlegde the fact that you're right next to him. But why the hell did he even come here? You totally introduced him to this place and Ryu. So, you should get to keep this place after the break-up. Aren't those the rules?
He takes out his wallet to pay but pauses for a second. "Ryu, can I get two cookies to go?" he asks and hands over his card.
Two cookies? You know he doesn't like sugaries that much. You're almost sure he's meeting someone and it makes you scoff, unconsciously. Both him and Ryu side-eye you but you avert your gaze. "Chocolate ones, please." he adds. You think he must be ordering your favorites just to spite you.
He recieves the cookies from Ryu, fistbumps the guy and starts walking out. But then, just as he passes by you, he leaves one of the cookies on the counter in front of you and exits without another word.
First, you're shocked. And so is Ryu, apparently. You glance at him and he confusedly shrugs. Then, you're pissed. In a moment of anger, you blast out of there to go after him.
"Hey, Min Yoongi!" you shout.
He stops but doesn't turn around for a while. Just when he's about to, you appear right in front of him, the cookie in your hand.
"What's this?"
"What does it look like to you?" he retorts back, his eyes avoiding yours. And you frustratedly huff.
"What are you trying to pull?" you ask with hints of accusation in your voice. That's when he meets your gaze.
"Nothing at all. My fault for trying to be nice."
There it is, the Min Yoongi venom you were waiting for. He opens his mouth to say something else but you beat him to it.
"Ryu doesn't seem to know that we-" you pause. And immediately regret pausing. Why couldn't you just say it?
"Oh, right. You must be thinking that life stopped while you were away." And only as he says this that you notice the dark circles under his eyes. "He knows. So do a lot of other people, by the way."
Well, shit. You might've been away from all the post-breakup commotion but he was here. He was dealing with everyone of your social circle, alone. And what's the first thing you do when you see him for the first time after all that? Lashing out at him. And when he was just trying to be nice, too. Great...
"Can you move? I'm missing class." he says coldly. But despite trying to hide it, his voice sounds tired. Which makes you step out of his way and let him go. Instead, you start making your own way to class, being already late as it is.
Safe to say it's an awkward walk to campus, with you on one side of the street and Yoongi on the other. The bad news is, you constantly find yourself looking his way. Even though you curse under your breath everytime you catch yourself staring at him, you can't help but look again. But his eyes are completely fixed on the road, not even sparing you one glance.
To escape the awkwardness, you decide taking the longer route to class by heading for the stairs at the back while he takes the ones near the entrance. Since you're late and afraid of Professor Sol, you fasten your pace. Once you reach the door, your hand clashes into someone else's. Yoongi's. Of course, you think to yourself. You should've known he's taking music theory from Professor Sol. He's the best student when it comes to music and the best teacher here definetely wants him on his class.
It's too late when you realise you haven't removed your hand because he opens the door with yours under his, making it feel as though you're holding hands.
"So you finally decided to grace us with your presence? You shouldn't have. The class is about to end." Professor Sol scolds the two of you. She isn't exactly wrong. "I can pardon a student who already excells but the one who barely passes classes, I hope you know what you're doing Miss Y/N." One thing about her is that she notoriously discriminates between students and she's never liked you.
Yoongi's hand and yours is still connected and you feel him tense up. He actually used to be your guardian when it came to Professor Sol. And apparently old habits die hard because he grabs your hand harder and steps up a little. "The last I checked, at least eighty percent of your class fails every year, professor. It includes people who rank highest in some of the other classes. Strange, don't you think?"
Only Min Yoongi has the guts to do this. And only he gets a free pass after doing it. When the professor simply points you in the direction of the seats, Yoongi pulls you by the hand he’s still holding and sits you down. There’s immediately talk going around, people discussing if you were back together and all that. That’s when he snaps out of it and lets your hand go. So you’re finally able to let out the breath you were unknowingly holding. Then, he goes to one of the back seats and sits down himself. And you quietly wonder why that hurts you.
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It's Hoseok's first day back and the two of you are enjoying some coffee at Ryu's shop, after a long school day.
"Y/N, I've got some bad news." he says, looking gloomy all of a sudden.
"Wha- hurry up and tell me." You hate the suspense, it makes you worry.
"I haven't been able to find a studio that we can continue the album with." He looks really upset. That's only natural, he's been working on this project for over a year now. Before you broke up with Yoongi, Hoseok was writing and producing a mixtape in Yoongi's studio with you and Yoongi's help. After you parted ways, the mixtape was put on hold.
"I've saved a lot of money this summer. We can look into some expensive ones too, I'm sure we can-"
"It's not the money, Y/N. I can't work on it the way I want to in any of those other studios. Even if it's one of the expensive ones." he cuts in. Yes, Yoongi was probably the only person to let Hoseok do his own thing.
"Well then, you should talk to Yoongi. I'm sure he'll be cool with working with you, still. As long as I don't show up, it should be fine."
He rolls his eyes. "I can't do it without you, Y/N. I'll need your help, so you'll have to show up eventually."
It's your turn to roll your eyes. You don't want anything to do with that studio. But you know how important this mixtape is to Hoseok, so you say okay. Even though you doubt Yoongi would be fine with you being there.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. In his damned, cursed, beautiful leather jacket... This time there's no hat so you can fully observe his bleached hair and notice how it's grown longer.
"Would you really be okay with it? I don't wanna put you in this position, no. Let's just forget it-"
"Hoseok-ie, you're lovely. But for now, shut up." You get up and make your way to Yoongi's table. Hoseok's mixtape has to be done, no matter what. Seems like he hasn't noticed you so you clear your throat to grab his attention.
"What?" he asks, not looking at you. Your blood slowly starts to boil.
"I need to ask you something-"
"Ryu, I kinda need that coffee asap, buddy!" He cuts you off by hollering at the barista and starts to gather his things. He really must want to get on your nerves.
"Actually, first things first, why in the bloody hell are you still coming here?" You can't help but lash out again. You discovered this place after all, you have the right to claim it.
"Excuse me?"
"I showed you this place, it's my territory. Don't you know the break-up rules?"
He laughs at that. In such a condescending way that you regret saying it. He stops getting ready and settles on the table once again. "You're cute."
Oh, you're so close to smacking him on the head.
"And you're an asshole."
Ryu comes with Yoongi's order and leaves it on the table. "I thought you were in a hurry." He says while heading back to the counter.
"I suddenly wanna stay longer." Yoongi states, looking straight at you.
Every fiber of your being wants to avoid his eyes and run away from there, he knows exactly how to make you vulnerable. But you endure. For Hoseok.
"I'll get to the point. Hoseok needs to keep working with you. Our situation shouldn't effect his mixtape, don't you think?"
He switches to serious mode quickly. "Was this your idea or his?"
"What does it matter-"
"I'm only okay with it if he wants to do it on his own will and not by you forcing him."
Okay, you do get a little bossy sometimes but he didn't have to put it as harsh as that.
"He wants to. He refused other studios and all that."
You think you see his lips curve into a small smile for a second. Hoseok and Yoongi got along very well, actually. You never wanted for them to stop being friends, anyway. This might be a chance for them to catch up even. Of course, there's a slight problem.
"But- he says he can't do it without... well, me. He wants to make sure that you're okay with-"
"Not a problem." Yoongi unexpectantly cuts you off. You're rendered speechless due to shock. He finally turns his head and looks at you. "My studio is a workplace, Y/N. Why would it bother me when you're there for work purposes? Especially when you're essential to the process."
Yoongi's sense of kindness is a very strong thing. But it's well hidden under all the coldness and sarcasm. You'd know, it had taken you a while to get to it. But when you did, it made you fall for him even harder at the time. And now, even though things between you are over, you can still see it.
"Thanks..." is all you can say while turning around to go back but suddenly your feet stop and turn back around. "Actually, thanks for before with Professor Sol, too. Even though you don't need to stand up for me anymore-"
"It's not that I needed to, Y/N. It's that I wanted to."
He goes back to gathering his stuff and you head back to give Hoseok the details of how it went. Just as you're about to, Yoongi stops by your table before leaving.
"Hoseok-ie, text me later to come up with a schedule for studio hours, okay?"
Hoseok is visibly happy and responds with a big smile. "Sure thing."
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It's been three weeks since Hoseok started to work at Yoongi's studio again. But today is the first time that you'll be going there since the break-up. Even though time has passed, you're still not used to being around Yoongi all the time. Like having to attend almost all the classes with him and also, well... without him.
Without him sitting next to you, practically glued to your side, while you both silently giggle in the middle of the lecture as he whispers stupid jokes in your ear. The fact that you're consantly around him (not by choice by the way) prevents you from getting over him.
And now the studio... One of the most dangerous places for you now because of the memories you have with him there. You know, an intimate, indoor space with dim lights... A perfect spot for activities you definitely don't want to be reminded of. But for your best friend Hoseok, you have to go.
When you arrive, you call Hoseok to open up the door, too nervous to ring the doorbell. Once you enter, your giggly friend drags you hurriedly into the recording room.
"Okay warm your voice up. We should start with the vocals-"
"Wow there, pickle." you say. Vocals were maybe the only thing you told him you wouldn't do. What did he think? That he could hurry you into it and you wouldn't notice? "What vocals, Hoseok? I'm here to arrange, mix and maybe write some melodies, you know that."
"Shhh... look you gotta. Otherwise Yoongi's gonna have some other girl do it and I don't want that."
What girl? For as long as you can remember, Yoongi has tried to get you to sing. For Hoseok's and other albums. But you don't have confidence in your voice so you've always refused. And now he just wants some other girl?
"Have you told him you don't want that?"
"Yes, obviously. He told me if I can't convince you, we had no other choice. So c'mon, just try for me? Pleaseee?"
You sneakily glance out the window to see Yoongi talking with the said girl. She’s probably from your school even though you haven’t seen her here before. She’s standing a bit too close to Yoongi’s chair and leaning on him a little but that’s none of your business. And you definetely don’t care. But still, you can’t have someone whom Hoseok’s not comfortable with, sing in his own damn album.
You go out the room and toward Yoongi and the girl. “We need to speak.” you say and head for the other room. Yoongi huffs while following after you.
“What is it miss grumpy?”
You roll your eyes. “Are you really pulling an ultimatom on me like this? Hoseok clearly isn’t okay with this girl-”
“Hoseok isn’t okay with anyone but you. This isn’t my ultimatom, it’s his. Marley’s like the third person I asked to do this and he didn’t like any of them. Because what he wants is your voice. You really can’t see that Y/N?”
He sounds fed up and exhausted. What he says makes sense too, since you know how stubborn and sneaky your best friend can be.
He continues. “Look, if we want the album to proceed there are three options. First is Marley does the vocals and Hoseok will be unhappy about it. Second is there’ll be no female vocals which will make the whole thing empty and far from what we planned. Or third, you can do them and save us all the grimace.”
He makes it seem like he doesn’t care which you’ll go with but in his eyes, you can see hope that you’ll say yes to the third. But no. You’re not ready, you can’t. In your mind, you suck. So you convince Hoseok to go with Marley for now.
So, days go by. Marley comes pretty often to record. Hoseok’s not frowning that much about it anymore. And you notice how every chance she gets, Marley is pulling the moves on Yoongi. Which seem to work, since sometimes they come in or leave together. None of it bothers you at all, you tell yourself.
One day, you come in pretty late at night remembering you left your notes there. Since you have a spare key, you think you can be in and out unnoticed. Silly you because once you hear Yoongi playing the piano, you can’t just leave. You wait outside the room until he’s done and some stupid momentary courage makes you go in.
“Oh- I’m sorry.” you instantly say when you see Marley sitting next to him. “I just forgot my- I was leaving-”
“Wait!” Yoongi says hurridly to stop you. “We were done here anyway.”
Marley doesn’t look happy but gets up and leaves.
“No really, I got my notes and I was about to head out. She doesn’t need to leave on my account-”
“It’s not on your account. But since you came in here, you must have something to say?”
Why does it feel like he wants you to say something? Why does it seem like he wants you to stay? You’re convinced it’s your own mind playing tricks on you.
“No. I don’t.” you lie with a broken voice. But your feet aren’t leaving. And Yoongi is still staring at you with a cold attitude but expecting eyes.
“Fine.” you give up and say. “I thought the piano room wasn’t allowed to just anyone. I guess since she was in here...” you cut yourself off. The piano room was kind of your special place when you were together. Nobody other than you was allowed in here. This is the place you two would spend hours and hours coming up with songs. Or just talking about things you shared only with each other.
“I’m just giving her piano lessons for some extra cash. And this room doesn’t mean much to me anymore.”
His answer dissappoints you. Not the part that he indirectly said they weren’t dating. The latter part. “And here I thought the whole secrecy of the piano room was just your way of pulling the moves on whoever you’re dating.” As long as the sentence is finished, you regret saying it. You know it isn’t right. What you said is unfair to every intimate and meaningful moment you had with him here. And your words come down like the last drop on his patience.
He shoots out of the seat. “If I wasn’t so goddamn sure that you already know how you’re the first person I ever brought in here, I’d be hurt. But instead I’m just pissed.”
He’s right to be. So you can’t say anything back.
“How can you even-” he stops for a moment. “But that’s just your way, isn’t it? Spit out venom whenever you don’t like something.”
“Me?” you ask in shock. Now this you can’t have. “No. Poisonous words are your specialty.”
“And you already left me for it, didn’t you? You left me so why would you care who I bring in here anyway?” He’s switched to his shouting voice now.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. But I left because you pushed me away, Yoongi.” He averts his gaze to the floor while you continue. “I know that you love music more than anything else but what I also happen to know is that you use it as an escape. An excuse to not get too close. But guess what? We were already too close for me to not realise what you were doing! And that is why I left!”
Both of you are obviously done shouting and silence takes over the room for a while. You already had to push back tears like twice now, so you decide to leave but just then, Yoongi has something to say.
“This room will never have any significance with anyone else besides you. Just know that.” he silently admits with his eyes still fixed on the ground. You don’t say anything and just walk away.
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It’s nearly the end of the semester and Hoseok’s mixtape is finally finished. He was so exited that he accidentely published it three times in a row on soundcloud. And the fact that he’s getting some great feedback is the icing on top.
In the meantime, you’ve been doing a lot of thinking. After that fight with Yoongi, you’ve started to seriously consider the fact that maybe leaving him just like that was a mistake. Because yes, you were hurt that after all you had been through, he was still trying to keep you at bay. You felt like as you were falling completely and irreversably for him, he was still holding back. But when you left, you were gone all the way. Leaving him all alone when you knew he was hurt.
Spending the last couple of months together, you finally admitted to yourself that you missed him. And that it did bother you seeing him with other girls. It bothered you that Marley was so obviously into him. Even though he made it clear he wasn’t interested, you still felt... jealous.
But you never mustered up the courage to talk to him about any of these. Even though it seems like lately he’s trying not to be cold around you, trying to strike up random converstions in efforts to perhaps recover at least your friendship. For some stupid reason you can’t seem to dare let him back in.
Your buzzing phone pulls you out of your thoughts. You check and see it’s your best friend that you’ve been feeling extra proud of these days.
“Yes, my successful, on his way to become a star best friend?”
“Oh my god, Y/N. You won’t believe this!” he squeaks while talking. And you hate the suspense so you tell him to hurry up and tell you what’s up.
“Yoongi’s friend in radio 12 agreed to play the title song!”
“What??” you start to squeak in exitement as well. “When? When will it be on?”
“In about two minutes! Just put the station on, now!” he orders and hangs up immediately. He’ll probably call his parents next. You quickly do as he says and for sure, the next song is Hoseok’s title track. You start hopping in your bed, dancing around in your room with the dumbest smile on your face but then-
The bridge comes and it’s your voice. That’s impossible, you think. But it is you singing the bridge. And then it hits you. That one night you snuck into the studio with your spare key and recorded this exact bit, just to see how it’d be... As always, you thought it wasn’t good enough. But instead of deleting, you hid the file. Guess you couldn’t hide it that well, after all. Was it Hoseok that did this? Or...
Your phone buzzes again and once again it’s Hoseok. “Y/N- This was the best surprise you ever made for me. I’m literally about to cry, you sound so good! Thank you for doing this.”
It wasn’t Hoseok, then. But you’re thrilled to know he likes it that much. You’re thrilled to hear yourself on a freaking radio station that so many people listen to! It feels amazing. It gives you so much confidence. So much that after ending the call with Hoseok, you decide to go to the only person left who could’ve done this.
You’re at Yoongi’s door. You haven’t been here for a long time but despite the nervousness, you manage to knock. It’s pretty late but you know he’s a night owl, he should be up. Soon enough, he opens the door. He’s taken aback to see you at first but then his surprised expression turns into worry.
“I know why you’re here. I’m sorry I used the recording without your consent but-”
You launch yourself onto him and crash your lips on his. His response is so quick that it’s almost automatic. He pulls you in even more, closes the door with his foot and traps your body againts the wall with his own. All the while not parting your lips once. Your hands go to his hair. You’ve been wanting to brush your fingers through his hair ever since you’ve seen that he bleached it again after two years. You pull at the tips slightly. It makes him hum into your mouth.
“Wait-” he says while he pulls away suddenly. “You-” You’re both out of breath. “Are you really okay with what I did?”
“Yes.” You close the distance once again and this time he moves you to the couch. You’ve missed this couch. You’ve missed him...
He pulls back again. “Y/N- wait. What are we doing?”
“What do you think?” you tease as your lips travel down to his neck.
“I wanna talk to you first, though.” he manages to say between his panting.
“So talk.” you say and go back to the week spots on his neck, secretly smiling against his skin.
“You’re not-” he swallows a groan. “exactly making it easy.” He then pulls your head up to face him and gives you another long kiss. But this time not out of the heat of the moment. Instead with so much meaning engraved on it.
“Y/N... I never meant to hurt you.” he says staring into your eyes. “You were right, I was a coward but- I swear if you give me another chance, I will give it my all. I’ll be a thousand percent in.”
You smile. He looks so much like a lost puppy that it makes you want to tease him. “Well, prove that to me right now then.” you say slyly.
“Uhh- I will. I- I’m gonna go dye my hair brown, right now. I bleached it to get your attention, anyway. Not to attract others, I promise.” he says in panic.
You burst into laughter. When you first started dating, you talked him into not bleaching his hair anymore. You always said it was only for his health but he always knew you were jealous of girls getting attracted because of it, too. “No, don’t. I actually missed how even hotter it makes you look. Let’s keep that for now.” you say. “I was kidding, you don’t have to do or say any-”
“I love you.”
You pause. It’s not the first time he tells you that. But this time he says it in such a way that you’re certain it’s the real thing. Even more real than before. “I love you, too.”
“So...” he leans into you and whispers in your ear. “Couch or bed?”
You both giggle. “Surprise me.” you whisper back and he quickly tries to lift you but fails, making you both laugh out loud. “Umm- I haven’t been working out lately, baby. I’m sorry.” he says between giggles.
Between all the laughter, you silently thank him for giving you another chance, too. And make a mental promise that you won’t give this up so easily ever again.
....
A/N: This was my first Yoongi fic and I feel good about it. It’s really hard to imagine Yoongi not being a god at music so anytime I use him as a character, he’s always a prodigy lol. I can’t help it he’s just really good. Anyways if you’ve bared with this, thank you sooo much for reading and I hope you liked it. Let me know if you did. Always wash your hands and stay healthy :)
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