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#fic: denim & strawberry
theharrowing · 9 months
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Denim & Strawberry
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When Yoongi gets invited to watch his crush perform, he has no idea what to expect. Jimin stripping on stage and singing a sultry little number while tugging on his hair is definitely not what Yoongi had in mind, but who is he to complain?
"You could have just asked me out," Yoongi teases, raising his drink to his lips before adding, "no need to put on a whole show." Jimin's mouth falls open again, and he steps close, leaning to speak into Yoongi's ear. "Ah, but you liked the show, didn't you hyung?"
🍓 Yoongi x Jimin
🍓 word count: 19.6k 🙈
🍓 friends to lovers, burlesque au, porn without plot, tooth-rotting fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+
🍓 warnings: top yoongi, bottom jimin. jimin has pink hair and yoongi has a half-up top-knot. this is more or less porn with very little plot. recreational drug use (weed smoking.) jimin performing burlesque and singing while being a flirt. light hair pulling. the burgundy suit from jimin's filter performance, and his kitty gang jacket, and cute lingerie. a hint of jealous/possessive behavior. bickering as a form of flirting. the tiniest hint of sub/dom vibes. safe word establishment. teasing & light humiliation. a little begging. use of good boy and slutty. jimin is shy at times but also a brat and yoongi fights the urge to tame him. a lot of drool, spit, lube, and cum. dirty talk. so much god damn praising. anal (plug, play, eating, fingering, sex.) messy blow job. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. yoongi loves to discuss boundaries & check in. lots of heaven/angel comparisons but only because yoongi is a sucker for how ethereal jimin is (it's not that deep.) too many positions (what was i thinking???) subspace. mating press. cock-warming. after care. tooth-rotting fluff.
🍓 note: a yoonmin fic + jimin doing burlesque was some brainrot shared between @echotoyou and i that i decided to write when their birthday was approaching. but then the big day came and went, and i lost control of this beast for a very long time. she is finally ready hehe. i hope you all (but especially mg!) enjoy!!! finally my years of being a photographer for a burlesque troupe and dating a performer have come in handy for my writing lolol.
🍓 listen along: 🎵 streets by doja cat & yeah, i said it by rhianna (thank you to @sailoryooons for these song choices!!!)
🍓 beta read by @neoneunnajimin!
🍓 posted august 2023 | read on ao3
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Yoongi pats his pockets down one last time, fingertips tentatively grazing lumps beneath denim. Phone…wallet…keys. That's everything. He presses the lock button on his open car door, then closes it. In his pocket, his phone buzzes. 
Namjoon Hyung, are you close?
Yoongi Just parked.
Namjoon  Okay, good. Just making sure you don’t miss anything. 
Yoongi rolls his eyes but smiles. He has no idea what to expect – nobody has told him much – but Jimin did say, over and over again, that it was fine if he could not make it. That he would be thrilled if Yoongi could come but understood if he could not. That there would be other shows. 
But of course, Yoongi did everything in his power to make it. This is Jimin, after all.  
He slides his hands into the pockets of his black denim jacket and moseys from the small parking lot to the sidewalk and around the corner. There is a small congregation of people smoking and loitering outside, under a bright red neon sign that reads Paradise. Yoongi has never been to this bar before – tends to avoid spots on this side of town because it is more popular with college kids, and therefore, the drinks are overpriced. 
Everyone outside is done up in some flashy way, wearing sequins and fishnets, glittering eye makeup, and patent leather. Yoongi feels underdressed, wearing a black band tee tucked into black skinny jeans, with a black jacket and black work boots, and he awkwardly runs a hand through his dark, wavy, unstyled, and overgrown hair. 
"Yoongi!" a familiar voice shouts, and he looks up in time to find his friend Jeongguk waving him over, past the closest group of smokers. 
Even his friends are all dressed up, with sparkly eye glitter and tight, colorful clothing. Hoseok and Jeongguk are in mesh, Taehyung has a burgundy feather boa, and Seokjin and Namjoon are both wearing leather pants. Since when did the two of them own leather pants?
"Ya, you're dressed like a scrub!" Seokjin shouts, making Yoongi's cheeks warm in an instant.
"Nobody told you a single thing about the event tonight, did they?" Namjoon asks sympathetically.
Yoongi shrugs, mutters, "No," and digs his hands further into his pockets. 
Taehyung approaches, using his pinkies to brush the hair away from Yoongi's face, cradling a pot of light blue glitter between his fingers. "He probably wanted it to be a surprise," he mutters lowly, unscrewing the pot. "Don't let them make you feel self-conscious."
"I don't," Yoongi responds softly, feeling incredibly self-conscious. He stands still while Taehyung dabs his fingertip into the glitter and allows him to smudge it around his eyes. In the early days of their friendship, Yoongi probably would have fussed, but these days, he lets the youngest two – Taehyung and Jeongguk – do whatever they want.
Jeongguk approaches, unscrewing a stick of pink, shiny lip gloss, and Yoongi huffs out a sigh but stands as still as he can while Jeongguk applies it. "Should put your hair into a bun or something," he mutters before he and Taehyung trade places so Taehyung can smudge blue glitter onto his other eye. 
"Your hair is really pretty, hyung," Taehyung adds, screwing the top of the glitter pot back on and sliding it into his very tight white slacks. "You should let me style it."
"Don't we have to go inside?" Yoongi asks.
"We'll head in when the emcee comes on," Hoseok responds, approaching with a mischievous smile. Without asking, he grabs Yoongi's right arm and pulls at the black hair tie that he always keeps on his wrist, then begins separating the top half of Yoongi's hair and making a bun on the top. "Jimin goes on third or fourth."
"What is he doing tonight, again?" Yoongi asks, throwing in the again to make it seem like he may have been privy to information in the past, in case it makes one of them divulge even a crumb of information. 
"A little singing," Hoseok mutters, grinning. "You know how it is."
"I literally do not know how it is," Yoongi responds, finally becoming impatient with his friends touching and fixing him. 
"You'll see, hyung," Hoseok says as he takes a step back, inspects his handy work, and nods.
Taehyung returns with a knit brow and reaches up to fix Yoongi's glittery makeup, which he allows for a moment before swatting him away, grumbling, "Okay, enough."
"Alright, grumpy cat," Namjoon teases, then passes him a freshly lit joint. "Here."
Yoongi reaches for the joint and takes a hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs before tilting his head upward and releasing it. Then he holds out his hand for the next person to take it, and rolls his shoulders back. 
"What kind of song is Jimin singing?" Yoongi half-mutters, expecting next to nothing in response. 
Taehyung simply says, "You'll see, hyung,"  with a wink. 
“Is it an original song?” Yoongi tries. He can’t remember Jimin ever talking about songwriting, but he wouldn’t put it past him; Jimin is full of surprises. 
The sound of someone shouting into a microphone can be heard, and Yoongi stands at attention, ready to go inside. He can hear people cheering and loud pop music playing. 
“Shall we?” Taehyung asks as he takes one last drag at the diminishing joint and hands it to Yoongi. 
Yoongi nods and takes another hit, cradling the tiny roached joint between his thumb and forefinger, then holds it out for the others, all of whom hold their hands up and shake their heads. With one last puff, Yoongi flicks it into the street, then shoves his hands back into his jacket pockets. 
“Is Jimin part of the opening act?” Yoongi asks, and Seokjin snickers. 
“He’s one of the main acts,” Namjoon supplies unhelpfully. 
So he must be headlining, Yoongi assumes. 
“Hyung is so unobservant when he’s nervous,” Jeongguk teases, and Taehyung chuckles along with him. 
“I’m not nervous,” Yoongi grumbles.
He glances around and sees flyers for various events taped to the windows for drag and burlesque shows, and a few for various bands, none of which shows any images of Jimin, or any other performers he has ever seen before. In his pockets, his hands prickle with sweat, and he imagines what kind of instrument Jimin might play. Or maybe he only sings. 
Jimin is a somewhat new addition to their friend group, brought in by Taehyung and Hoseok; they all work together. To say Yoongi is smitten would be the understatement of the century. And although Yoongi thinks Jimin may also be interested in him, they have not spoken too much about anything outside of college and work, only seeing one another as part of the larger friend group.
As a major in theater arts with a minor in dance, Jimin works at a local studio teaching children tap and ballet as an assistant to Hoseok. Occasionally, Taehyung substitutes for the older lady who plays piano for the classes. It was natural for them to come together, all close in age, with Hoseok only a year older than the other two.
When Jimin invited Yoongi to come watch him perform, they were all tipsy from one too many bottles of soju. Jeongguk was the last in their friend group to graduate college, and they were all celebrating with drinks and fried chicken. 
Even then, when Yoongi asked what kind of show it was, everyone was giggly and secretive. From that moment, he got the feeling that Jimin was definitely flirting with him, with the way his gaze lingered, lips curled into a smile long after Yoongi made him laugh. The more Jimin insisted Yoongi needed to just go and experience the event first-hand, nibbling on his pillowy lip with a somewhat shy, rosy-cheeked grin, Yoongi felt eager to do anything he wanted him to. 
“Of course, I’ll be there,” Yoongi promised, and he meant it. 
The cheers inside grow louder, and Taehyung takes up the lead, stepping into the bar. Namjoon slings an arm over Yoongi’s shoulder and gently shoves him along with the group. Yoongi reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, but Taehyung mutters something to the door guy, who looks at a list of names and then waves the six of them inside. 
Taehyung leads them down a short hallway, into the bar. A long counter lines the left wall, with patrons leaning against it both to order drinks, and to chat with one another. Past the bar top, at the end of the venue, is a stage, and on stage is a woman lip-synching to some upbeat pop song while waving big white feather fans in front of her, enticing the audience to want to see what the fans are covering. 
Yoongi has seen clips of performances like this but has never attended this type of show before, and his gaze lingers on the woman, who winks and blows kisses to cheering audience members before Namjoon leads him over to get a drink. 
The music is loud and a little tackier than Yoongi’s usual taste, but the bass line thrums through the speakers straight into his bloodstream, building his nervousness to see Jimin, egged on by feeling somewhat high. He wonders what kind of performance Jimin might put on at an event like this, and he cannot imagine what it could be. 
“Hyung?” Taehyung asks, tilting his head toward the waiting tender. “First one is on me.”
What he would like is a nice scotch neat, but since Taehyung is paying, he finds a mid-tier whiskey and gets it with a spritz of soda water. The others order, and by the time they step away from the bar, the woman’s song is at its climax, and she is topless, wearing lacy red underwear and bouncing in a way that spins the red tassel pasties on her breasts in a circle. The action makes him chuckle, and when she bows and leaves the stage, he claps his fingers against the back of the hand holding his drink. 
“Burlesque, huh?” Yoongi asks, turning to Namjoon while a man in drag takes the stage. 
Namjoon waggles his eyebrows while taking a sip from the bright blue concoction in his hands. 
“Is Jimin also doing burlesque?” Yoongi asks, earning him a shrug. 
Yoongi decides to just stop asking. Clearly, his friends are determined to be completely useless. 
Although there is a decent crowd in the bar, most people are mingling about, watching the stage from a distance, or whispering amongst themselves. The emcee introduces another act and leaves the stage, replaced by a person with a very nicely manicured mustache and beard wearing a big orange wig and vintage blue dress. They prance around the stage, lip-synching to a silly pop song that Yoongi has never heard before, winning cheers and applause from the crowd.
Yoongi wonders if Jimin will also come out in drag, and what kind of a gimmick he might have. Would he wear a dress? High heels? A wig? Yoongi imagines Jimin with the bright, exaggerated makeup on and smiles to himself; he bets Jimin would look really pretty. 
Taehyung leads the group toward the stage, taking his place just left of the center. The others file in behind him, with Yoongi keeping some distance from the very front. The performer comes by, lip-synching to Taehyung, who pulls some money from his pocket and holds it up while the performer bends and offers their cleavage for him to slide the notes into. 
"I don't have any cash," Yoongi grumbles toward Taehyung when the song ends and the performer exits. "Will I need any for Jimin?"
"I got you," Taehyung responds, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of notes, shoving them into Yoongi's empty hand before he has a chance to protest. 
Yoongi attempts to straighten out the notes while holding onto his drink. Meanwhile, the emcee returns to the stage. 
"Our next performer is a fan favorite," the emcee says with an exaggerated waggle of their eyebrows. Around them, the crowd becomes dense, with someone bumping shoulders and elbows into Yoongi as they get close to the stage. The emcee continues, "A man who needs no introduction because, let's be honest, you're all here to see him…Jimin."
The stage lights go out, and there is some movement – a person carrying items, as well as the light clacking of heels on the wooden stage. Yoongi's heart goes wild in his chest, and he lifts his drink to his lips, watching ahead for more movement in the dark, eager to not miss a thing when the lights come back on.
A red glow illuminates the back edge of the stage, showing the silhouette of Jimin sitting on what looks like a standard black folding chair. He is sideways on the chair with one leg crossed over the other, his arm draped over the back of the chair, and his head tilted back. He appears to be wearing a jacket and slacks, but it is hard to tell. 
Also on the stage is a tall, wooden coat rack, and hanging from it appears to be a short mesh robe with fur trim along the sleeves and bottom hem. 
Beside Yoongi, a man loudly whispers, "I fucking love Jimin; just wait," to someone else, and Yoongi shifts a little on his feet with anticipation and something like envy stirring in his guts. 
A yellow spotlight comes on, shining on Jimin. He wears a fitted burgundy suit and black leather boots with a heel and pointed toe. His light pink hair is styled off his forehead, and he appears to be wearing makeup around his eyes, but it is hard to clearly see. In his hand, which is draped over his knee, is a burgundy wide-brimmed hat. 
A familiar oldie comes on, a pop track from the 1950s, and Jimin slowly uncrosses his legs and places both feet on the floor. Female voices sing sweetly before Paul Anka's voice croons, "Put your head on my shoulder."
Only, before the sentence is finished, the song abruptly changes to a sexy R&B track with a trap beat. In that moment, the yellow spotlights turn red, the hat is dropped to the floor, and Jimin's hands are on the chair, supporting his weight as his body bows upward. Briefly, Yoongi thinks he recognizes the song from a bunch of tiktoks Hoseok has made him watch. 
The crowd cheers as Jimin rolls his body, then sits and rotates, facing the audience and spreading his legs. A woman's voice comes through, singing, "Like you…like you…like you…I find it hard to find someone like you," while Jimin rolls his shoulders and hips to the song, leaning forward and then back, holding onto this chair as he lifts his hips and lolls his head.
Yoongi is stunned, gripping onto his drink while he watches Jimin stand, spin the chair around and sit once more with his back to the audience and head tipped back while his hands rove over his body. His fingertips lift and fall to the rhythm of the song while they work their way down, down, down Jimin's body, difficult to clearly see and stirring up so many mental images. 
Jimin's shoulders and hips sway while his hands disappear, and then he pulls open the burgundy jacket. Everyone around him roars excitedly, cheering and applauding. Jimin holds onto the lapels and turns his head, teasing the audience with his opened jacket before he stands and lets the garment slip down past his shoulders, revealing a matching burgundy button-up that is tucked into his matching slacks and clings tightly to his arms and waist.
With a slow, deep swish of his hips, Jimin faces the audience and begins to rip the dress shirt open from the collar, sending buttons skittering across the stage, earning him whoops and shouts. With a strip of skin exposed, he walks over to the coat rack, turns it in a circle, and dips it as if he were dancing with a person, causing the mesh robe hanging from it to sway.
Each movement of Jimin's body is fluid, clothing clinging to his torso and thighs in a way that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. He wears tighter clothing sometimes when they all hang out, but this is the first time Yoongi has really allowed himself to look.
For just a split second, while Jimin is holding the coat rack as if he is cradling the back and neck of a person and lip-synching to the song, it seems like he makes eye contact with Yoongi, causing Yoongi to hold his breath and heavy-blink through the well of excitement and shyness that he feels. It almost looks as if the edges of Jimin's lips lift ever so slightly, but then he releases the rack and spins away from it, swishing his hips as he dips down low and continues to rip open and untuck the button-up shirt with his eyelids fluttering closed. 
Yoongi practically forgets there is a song playing, focused so intently on Jimin, that when the singer begins to rap – quick and raspy – matched by Jimin's movements of tearing away the garment and revealing a bare torso with little light-colored heart pasties on his nipples, Yoongi sucks in a gasp that gets caught in his throat, nearly making him choke. Jimin’s bare chest and abdominals are chiseled – carved from the finest clay with careful hands. Yoongi lifts his drink quickly, taking a gulp of bitter whiskey and soda water while the crowd goes wild. 
In a swift movement, the pants are torn away from Jimin's waist, revealing long, muscular legs and shiny briefs that match the pasties. Jimin sinks into a squat, rubbing his hands over his legs. Then he sits and lifts one of his legs into a high split, giving Yoongi a very clear eyeful of a bulge and taut thigh muscle, making his mouth fall open. 
Jimin unzips the boot from the foot suspended in the air and tosses it aside, then drops his leg down and sweeps his other leg out in a half-squat, half-split while he drags his hands down the length of his leg to the other boot, unzips it, and tosses it near the other one. 
He spins, gets onto his knees, which are spread, and rolls his hips, lifting and dropping his ass while his hands rove up to his neck and hair, and his head lolls back. All he wears is shiny briefs and pasties, making Yoongi feel more intoxicated than the glass of whiskey ever could. 
The group to Yoongi's right is particularly loud, cheering for Jimin and shouting things like, "That's it, baby, show us how you ride it!" making a shiver run along Yoongi's spine. The objectification makes him feel uncomfortable, but he wonders whether Jimin cares, considering he clearly enjoys stripping for an audience; maybe that is all part of the thrill. Yoongi can't say he blames him. 
The song fades out as Jimin gets onto his hands and knees and crawls over to the coat rack, then slowly gets to his feet. As the music ends, the red lights fade to regular spotlights, revealing the briefs, pasties, and mesh robe – which Jimin pulls from the rack and begins to put on – are all a light pink color that matches his hair. 
Jimin ties the robe with a cord around his waist, standing barefoot while looking out at the crowd with a soft smile. The audience roars with applause and praise, and Yoongi expects Jimin's performance to be over, but then a stagehand in all black runs out, collects the discarded clothing while another sweeps a large broom across the floor to kick away loose buttons, and he hands Jimin a microphone that has been covered in light pink rhinestones. 
Once the men wearing black disappear behind tall curtains, a new song begins, also a slow R&B track, and Jimin lifts the microphone and starts singing, slowly swaying his hips and approaching the front of the stage. 
Yeah, yeah…yeah, yeah… I ain't tryna think about it, no
Taehyung takes a step back, wraps his arm around Yoongi's waist, and pulls him closer to the stage, causing Yoongi to fumble as Jimin approaches. He stands still as a statue with his hands in front of his chest – wad of notes that Taehyung gave him wedged between two fingers while both hands grip tight to his cold, condensation-covered glass of whiskey and soda water. 
Jimin's eyes find Yoongi, and he smiles, tilting his head sweetly to the side. To his right, the guys who had been cheering loudly try to close in and reach forward, but Jimin ignores them, looming over Yoongi while he sings in a soft, sweet voice, delivering lyrics that have Yoongi's cheeks absolutely burning. 
Yeah, I said it, boy, get up inside itI want you to homicide it
As Jimin lifts a hand and reaches out, Yoongi steps forward instinctively, knocking the toe of his boot into the front of the wooden stage, head tilted upward with his eyes never leaving Jimin's face. Around him, hands reach out with money, and some even toss notes to the stage, but Jimin ignores all of it. 
Go in slow, but I want you to pipe it And I think I kinda like ya Up against the wall, we don't need a title
But Jimin does take the wad of notes that stick out from between Yoongi's fingers, tugging them right out of his weak grasp, and he snakes his hand under the robe and tucks it into the side of his little pink briefs, making Yoongi breathe out a soft chuckle. 
Beside him, the guy who seems intent on getting Jimin's attention mutters, "Who the fuck is this guy?" just loud enough that Yoongi can hear him, and pride begins to burn behind his ribs. 
Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it, man, fuck a title
Gently, Jimin reaches out toward Yoongi's head, eyes widening and brows slightly lifting as if asking for permission, and Yoongi nods while letting out a shaky breath. Fingers delicately push into his hair, tugging on strands as Jimin takes a handful and releases it, pulling away while dragging his fingertips against Yoongi's cheek. Even the gentlest touch feels electric, and Yoongi sways slightly forward when Jimin's hand drops away. 
Boy, I always like to show Get a little bit, come a little close, now
Arousal builds, and Yoongi feels a bit ashamed considering he and Jimin are friends, and Jimin is hardly touching him in a way that should warrant blood rushing to his dick. But Jimin looks like pure sin wrapped in inviting pink, and the way he stares at Yoongi is playful in a way he has never seen him look. 
Take it home on your camera phone Get a little bad, watch me blow it down
Jimin sinks to his knees, still taller than Yoongi but closer to eye level. With one hand, Jimin reaches for Yoongi's drink, then he has a sip of it and sets it down on the stage. Yoongi's hand stays in the same shape as if the glass had never been removed, and he is not sure what is sexier, the fact that Jimin takes the glass straight from his hand, or that he doesn't even flinch after essentially drinking carbonated whiskey.
Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it… Ooh
With a smirk, Jimin slinks to the very edge of the stage, knees practically bumping into Yoongi's hips. He slips his microphone into Yoongi's hand and lifts it until Yoongi has it in front of his face, as if he is supposed to sing the next line, and then he drapes his arms over Yoongi's shoulders, leans in, and continues. 
Yeah, I said it… Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it… Ooh 
From this close, Yoongi can see a dusting of shimmery pink on Jimin's eyelids, which are lined in black. His lips are glossy, he smells like strawberries, and Yoongi feels stunned in place, questioning whether or not all of this is a dream. Could his friends have slipped something in the weed? Could he be hallucinating?
Jimin sings higher, each word more inviting than the last. 
You can be rough, boy, but you won't
One of Jimin's hands slides into Yoongi's hair, and starting from the nape of his neck, he takes a handful. Everyone in the bar fades away; as far as Yoongi is concerned, the only two people in the room are himself and the beauty before him. 
Yoongi wonders if this is how Jimin's performances typically go. Does he always pick someone from the audience to tease? Is he always this handsy?
Give me some love, boy, give it to me 'til the morn'
With a gentle tug at his hair, Yoongi practically whimpers, watching as Jimin's lips pull into a sweet, devious smile. Jimin holds onto Yoongi while swaying side to side, knees spreading wide as he dips low and closing as he sits a little higher. 
Jimin continues singing—
Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it…
—but he seems less focused on sounding good for the audience and more interested in gently tugging Yoongi's hair and making him gradually fall apart. Soon, he is no longer singing at all, and he releases Yoongi's hair and drags his hand around his neck, past his throat and chin, then up and away, making Yoongi lean forward as if pulled by an invisible string. 
Yoongi wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, and Jimin seems to follow the movement before gently tugging his microphone out of Yoongi's tight, sweaty grasp and getting to his feet. Only then, does Yoongi realize the music is fading out. Jimin does a cute little twirl and opens his arms wide, bowing as the audience erupts into cheers, leaving Yoongi too stunned to clap. 
The emcee returns to the stage to announce an intermission, and the house lights come on, brightening the space. The crowd thins, and Yoongi heavy-blinks as he takes in his surroundings and allows his soul to return to his body while Jimin prances away, glancing over his shoulder to wink at Yoongi before slipping behind the black curtain. 
Two large, warm hands crash into Yoongi's shoulders, and he jumps, sucks in a gasp, and turns to find Namjoon staring at him with a wide smile. 
"So?" he has the audacity to ask, and all Yoongi can do is scoff and shake his head incredulously. 
"So, what?" Yoongi responds, attempting to play it cool despite the way his heart hammers in his chest. 
"Was it life-changing?" Taehyung asks, and Yoongi turns to regard him before remembering his drink is still on the stage and spinning around to retrieve it. When he turns back to his friends, he finds five sets of eager eyes watching him, as well as the stares of strangers, and he ducks his head and gulps down half of his drink. 
"It was…" Yoongi begins, trailing off as he attempts to summarize what he just witnessed, blinking through mental image after mental image. "Unexpected," he finally says, lips involuntarily tugging to a smile, which he covers by slamming back the rest of his drink. 
"It sure was!" Hoseok says with wide eyes. "Jimin never comes to the edge of the stage like that. People always try to entice him, but he always plays hard to get."
"Oh," Yoongi mutters, letting the words sink in. 
"Another?" Jeongguk calls, holding an empty glass, and everyone nods. Hoseok and Taehyung finish their drinks in a gulp while they all turn and make their way to the end of the bar. 
As they stand and wait, Yoongi takes a look around the space. Everything is black and chrome and nothing too remarkable, but the place seems to have a chill vibe. And he is grateful to not be the only person wearing denim and a band tee – dressed like a scrub, as Seokjin so elegantly put it.
Taehyung and Jeongguk get drinks, then slink away from the bar to stand off to the side. Then Hoseok and Seokjin order, and finally, Namjoon. Yoongi steps up to the counter and decides to order the same thing he had before – whiskey and soda water. 
From beside him, a sweet, familiar voice shouts, "Make that two, please!"
The smell of strawberry perfume hits Yoongi's nose, and he turns to his left to find Jimin smiling widely at him. He wears a white tee tucked into tight, black leather pants, and a black leather bomber jacket with a feathery design embroidered in red and silver beads on the shoulders. 
Now that Jimin has touched him – tugged at his hair while looming over like a salacious little threat – Yoongi allows himself to stare a little without feeling the nervous urge to flit his gaze away. The longer he looks at Jimin, the wider Jimin's smile grows. 
"Hi, hyung," Jimin says, taking a step closer. 
"Hey, pretty," Yoongi responds, feeling self-conscious about his choice of words until he sees the way they make Jimin blush. Pretty, indeed. 
Two glasses thunk against the bar top, and Yoongi turns with a gasp, fishing for his wallet. 
"On the house," the bartender says, nodding at Jimin. 
"Oh," Yoongi mutters, "okay."
"I got the tip," Jimin says beside him, leaning into his personal space to hand a folded wad of notes to the bartender. Jimin adds, "Though, technically, you are paying for it, hyung," close to Yoongi's ear. 
"Taehyung is paying for it, actually," Yoongi responds with a smirk, turning to Jimin whose mouth falls agape, scandalized. Yoongi feels the need to defend himself, adding, "Hey, I didn't know what was going on, otherwise I would have come prepared!"
Yoongi picks up both drinks and hands one to Jimin, who responds, "Fair," through laughter as he grabs Yoongi by the bicep and pulls him away from the bar. 
Even through his denim sleeve, Yoongi feels a spark of electricity where Jimin touches him. He notices that Jimin has pulled him in the opposite direction of the rest of their friends and decides not to question it. When they find themselves against the wall in a somewhat dimly lit corner, Jimin's hand stays on Yoongi's arm, giving him a tentative squeeze, and Yoongi looks down at Jimin's hand and smiles before meeting his eye. 
"You could have just asked me out," Yoongi teases, raising his drink to his lips before adding, "no need to put on a whole show."
Jimin's mouth falls open again, and he steps close, leaning to speak into Yoongi's ear. "Ah, but you liked the show, didn't you hyung?"
Yoongi has a sip of his drink, then he hums as he nods and says, "I did like the show. Your voice is really beautiful."
"Just my voice?" Jimin asks, stepping so close, their shoulders touch. 
A chuckle rocks through Yoongi, and he tips his head toward Jimin, who takes a drink with wide, curious eyes. "Not just your voice, no. Everything about you is beautiful."
"Awe, hyung!" Jimin shouts, shoving playfully at Yoongi's shoulder and sending him crashing lightly into the wall. 
"Wow," Yoongi responds, snickering. "Last time I compliment a guy."
Jimin places his hand over the spot he shoved and rubs over it, radiating warmth through denim and cotton. He opens his mouth to respond when a small group of men approaches to tell Jimin he did a great job, and Yoongi recognizes one of their voices as the guy who stood beside him during the performance. Yoongi cocks an eyebrow as the man makes eye contact with him, lifting his free hand to place over Jimin's hand, which continues to mindlessly rub over his chest, just below his clavicle. 
"Thanks for coming to the show," Jimin mutters politely, turning back to Yoongi. 
The group hovers behind Jimin and Yoongi does his best to ignore them, but it feels awkward to have an audience now that Jimin is no longer performing. 
"We should finish these drinks and get out of here," Yoongi suggests loud enough for the others to hear him, letting his gaze lift to the group to see if they have. 
Jimin chuckles. "Hyung, are you being possessive right now?"
"Maybe," Yoongi responds, tonguing the inside of his cheek. "But if you want to stay while that desperate pack ogles you, by all means—"
Jimin slides his hand from Yoongi's weak grasp to give him another smack, this time on the arm. 
"God, you're hot when you're jealous," Jimin says, making Yoongi blush, "but I should stay until the end to support the other performers. There are only four more."
Yoongi nods and accepts Jimin's terms. He wants to clarify that his offer for Jimin to leave with him afterwards is genuine, but the house lights dim, and music plays through the speakers, signaling the return of the show. 
Jimin takes Yoongi's hand and pulls him toward the front of the stage, to where the rest of their friends have congregated. Namjoon looks down at their linked hands, then to Yoongi, and he winks, making Yoongi roll his eyes despite how nice it feels to be holding Jimin's hand in public. 
The rest of the show goes by in a haze. Yoongi is hardly aware of the performers, hearing a hint of a song here and seeing a whoosh of brightly colored fabric there. All he can focus on is Jimin’s hand in his, Jimin’s voice singing and cheering, Jimin's warmth emitting in welcoming bursts beside him. 
Whenever Jimin slips his hand away to clap for each performer, Yoongi follows suit, robotically tapping his fingertips to his glass. And when Jimin takes his hand again, everything blurs and slows down, drowned out by the thrumming of blood in Yoongi’s veins, every sense acutely aware of only Jimin’s proximity – soft and strawberry-tender.
Once the house lights come on again, signaling the end of the show, Yoongi downs the rest of his drink. He feels sluggish and heavy, stumbling slightly when Jimin yanks him over to their friends. He wonders if they will want to keep drinking, whether they will want to go to a new bar. He thinks he would be alright with going to another bar; he parked his car somewhere it can be left overnight. 
“Wanna get out of here, hyung?” Jimin asks sweetly in his ear, and Yoongi decides all at once that another bar is out of the question. 
“Yes,” Yoongi responds, turning to Jimin with a wide smile that may very well look too eager for his own good. 
Jimin chuckles, finishes his drink, and says, “Good,” before leading the way to the bar where their friends are gathering with empty glasses. 
Yoongi considers how to break the news; Taehyung and Jeongguk tend to be pretty clingy and weaponize pouts that even Yoongi struggles to defend against, while Hoseok is always eager to keep their hangouts going well into the early morning. 
“We’re gonna get out of here!” Jimin announces, gracefully stealing the words from his mouth before he can even begin to formulate them. 
Jimin begins to hug everyone before they have a chance to oppose, smacking kisses against their cheeks and thanking them for coming to watch him perform. Most of them seem too dazed to argue.
Yoongi waves to everyone, noticing as they all make some sort of wink or eyebrow waggle at him, then he turns wordlessly and allows himself to get dragged by the wrist through the space, past patrons who attempt to talk to Jimin, and out into the cool night air. 
Jimin slides his arm into the crook of Yoongi’s elbow and pulls him along the sidewalk. “I live close,” he says before Yoongi has a chance to ask where they are going. Not that he would protest against being taken anywhere Jimin wanted. 
“Did you like the performance?” Jimin asks, bumping his hip against Yoongi as they walk. 
“I told you I did,” Yoongi teases, turning to find Jimin smiling while looking ahead. 
Jimin’s side profile is all firm lines and glitter, softened when he turns to Yoongi with wide, round eyes and pillow lips. He is stunning, and Yoongi is relieved to be able to stare unabashedly. 
“You told me I was beautiful,” Jimin clarifies, raising his eyebrows before looking ahead. 
“You are,” Yoongi mutters, remembering the performance. “And your singing was really beautiful. And the…stripping…” he trails off, feeling nervous about his choice of words. 
But Jimin does not miss a beat. “You liked watching me strip, hmm?”
“Of course I did,” Yoongi mutters, blushing. 
He is tugged around a corner to the right where the streetlights are fewer and the world feels darker, quieter. 
“And my dancing?” Jimin asks, walking impossibly closer – the two of them somehow managing to not trip over one another. 
“I liked your dancing,” Yoongi responds softly, clearing his throat to speak louder. “Hoseok mentioned you never come to the edge of the stage like that.”
Jimin chuckles, and Yoongi glances to the side, catching his eye before they both look ahead. 
“I don’t. That was just for you. I had a couple surprises just for you.”
Yoongi hums questionably, and Jimin says, "There's still one more surprise, in fact."
“Wow,” Yoongi rasps, smiling, “guess I’m pretty special.”
Jimin stops in his tracks and turns, pulling Yoongi gently away from the sidewalk, onto a grassy area near where tall bushes line the outside of an apartment building. It is even darker, and even quieter, without another soul around as far as Yoongi can tell, and he allows Jimin to wrap his arms around his shoulders and pull him close enough that their lips nearly touch. 
“You are special,” Jimin responds with a smile, fingertips playing with Yoongi’s hair. “And you look so cute with your hair half up and your eyes covered in Taehyung’s favorite blue glitter. How could I keep my hands off you?”
“Your admirers seemed pretty jealous,” Yoongi teases as he wraps his arms around Jimin’s waist, holding him close. 
“Let them be,” Jimin mutters softly, ghosting warm breath over Yoongi’s lips, which he wets with the tip of his tongue in anticipation. “The only admirer I care about is you.”
Yoongi smiles, letting his mouth fall open to respond – to tell Jimin he does admire him, so much, in fact, that it makes him dizzy. But Jimin slots their lips together tentatively, hands cradling Yoongi’s neck and back, and Yoongi sinks into the feeling with a sigh, then gently sucks Jimin’s bottom lip into his mouth as his pulse quickens. 
Jimin’s mouth is warm and soft beyond Yoongi’s wildest dreams. Yoongi rubs his hands over Jimin’s lower back and tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss, licking over Jimin’s bottom lip until it falls open with a gasp, granting Yoongi entrance. 
With a slow graze of his tongue over Jimin’s, he feels Jimin tense and shiver in his hold, letting out a soft whine that has arousal crashing through Yoongi. Jimin whimpers, and all Yoongi can think about is the man on stage in his tight little briefs, and his trim, flexible body grinding and swaying so invitingly. 
Jimin breaks from the kiss, panting as he tips his mouth away but presses their foreheads together. Yoongi opens his eyes just enough to see Jimin smiling. 
“Let’s go inside,” Jimin mutters, sounding breathless, and he releases Yoongi from his hold and leads him up the short set of steps into the building they were just in front of. 
“Couldn’t wait two more minutes to get me inside?” Yoongi chides as Jimin tugs him by the wrist down a short hallway, to a door on the right. 
Jimin punches in the door code and steps inside the apartment, switching on a bright overhead light that makes the two of them squint. When Yoongi steps in and closes the door, Jimin has his hands on him, pressing him against the wall. 
“Are you always such a brat?” Jimin groans, crowding Yoongi’s space. 
Yoongi assists Jimin in being close by wrapping his arms around his waist. “I like to tease you,” he rasps, chuckling as Jimin rolls his eyes. 
“You were teasing me earlier,” Yoongi adds, sliding one hand up, over the scratchy embroidery of Jimin’s jacket until his hand is on the back of Jimin’s neck. “With your dancing…and your singing…and your hair-pulling.”
“I was being extra sexy once I saw you standing there,” Jimin says sweetly as he slots a leg between Yoongi’s thighs.
“Is that so?” Yoongi asks, tipping his head back against the wall so he can actually see the beauty before him. 
Jimin nibbles on his bottom lip and nods his head. “I don’t usually grind on the floor as much. And the little splits I did to take off my shoes was improvised.”
“I might need to see those moves again,” Yoongi mutters, closing the gap between their lips with a soft, chaste kiss.
Jimin sighs and sinks into Yoongi, stomach and chest flush with his. “I have a lot of moves I can show you, hyung,” he responds as he sucks Yoongi’s lip into his mouth hard enough to make Yoongi whimper. 
“So show me,” Yoongi practically whines as he licks eagerly over Jimin’s lips. 
Jimin heaves a breath and takes a step back, grabbing Yoongi’s hands as they slowly slide from their grasp, walking backward through his tidy apartment, smiling as he mutters, “I’ll show you.”
Abruptly, Jimin stops and shouts, “Wait!” shoving Yoongi backward. Yoongi is confused and cocks his head, allowing himself to be moved, fingers still laced with Jimin’s. 
“We have to take our boots off, silly,” Jimin says, unlinking their hands and pressing Yoongi against the wall once more. He leans against Yoongi's chest as he lifts each foot to slide out of his black Chelsea boots and socks, stepping a bit shorter than before. 
Once Jimin’s feet are free, he prances away with a giggle, and Yoongi opens his mouth to call after him, but shakes his head and chuckles instead as he bends and unties his boots, toeing out of each one. The sound of a faucet running cues Yoongi to where to go, and he walks through the living room, to the right, and finds Jimin standing in a small kitchen, drinking from a glass of water. 
“Thirsty, hyung?” Jimin asks, holding out the glass. 
Yoongi takes it and has a drink, then sets it on the counter, and says, “I’m not too thirsty…but I am quite hungry,” watching as Jimin begins to look around with a frown. 
“I don’t have much,” he says, “what are you hungry for?”
Yoongi wraps his hands around Jimin’s waist, rubbing both palms over his leather-clad ass. 
“You,” he rasps, earning him a groan and a weak smack on the arm. He pouts and adds, “Pretty please?” while batting his eyelashes, and Jimin takes his hand, leading him away. 
“Are we leaving every light in your apartment on?” Yoongi asks while Jimin drags him into a short hallway. 
With a huff, Jimin turns on the hallway light, then reaches into a semi-open door right in front of them and turns the light on, revealing a bathroom. 
“There!” Jimin says with an incredulous glare. “Are you happy, hyung?”
“No,” Yoongi grumbles. “Feels like a waste of electricity.”
“You’re infuriating,” Jimin complains as he shuts off the bathroom and hallway lights. He playfully shoves Yoongi away to storm off to the kitchen and living room, and Yoongi laughs to himself, over the moon with how easy Jimin is to rile up. 
When Jimin returns, he grips onto the sleeve of Yoongi's jacket and yanks him roughly down to the end of the short hallway, into a dark room. Yoongi is still laughing, muttering, "Whoa, easy, tiger," as he is pressed into another wall, body against body, with warm breath wafting over his face. 
"You'll just have to fuck me in the dark since you're so god damn annoying," Jimin huffs as two hands slide up Yoongi's neck, into his hair and grip tightly.
Yoongi reaches into Jimin's jacket, pushing material away as he grabs him by the waist. Then he twists the two of them, grinning to himself when Jimin huffs out a surprised, "Oof," from the impact of his back being pressed into the wall. 
He leans forward, grazing his nose against Jimin's nose as he says, "So you want me to fuck you, hmm?"
"I thought that was a given," Jimin responds, voice less confident than before – trembling, even.
Yoongi hums and noses at Jimin some more, flicking his tongue out and pleased when it grazes over soft lips. "Didn't want to assume," he responds lowly, licking over Jimin's lips once more. "I'm down for anything you want, pretty."
It feels almost frantic the way Jimin's lips crash into his, mouth kissing and nipping while hands shove away Yoongi's denim jacket, sending it to the floor in a heavy lump of fabric. Jimin's hands yank at Yoongi's shirt, pulling it untucked from his jeans, and Yoongi reaches down, gently taking him by the wrists to stop him. 
"Wanna see you," Yoongi says. "I take back what I said about the lights; turn them all on so I don't miss anything."
Jimin chuckles and pulls his hands away, then a rustling of fabric is followed by the bright flashlight of Jimin's phone coming on. 
"Compromise?" he suggests with a smile that Yoongi barely sees behind the bright white glow. "There's a lamp beside my bed. Be a good boy and turn it on for me?"
Despite the somewhat indignant scoff that rolls through Yoongi's chest and throat, he turns on his heels to make his way through the dark bedroom, determined to be a good boy, indeed. He watches his step, maneuvering around discarded clothing items in the white glow before reaching the bed and finding the lamp. 
It takes a few moments of him rubbing his hand over the post and then down to where a cord sticks out, but he finds the little plastic switch and presses it on. A soft, golden light fills the space, and when he spins back around, Jimin is in the center of the room with his jacket draped down past his shoulders. 
Jimin begins to saunter over, and Yoongi's brain kicks into gear, going haywire over what he should do – join Jimin and undress him, or sit down and find out whether Jimin feels like putting on another show for him. He opts to sit, but when he turns to make sure the bed is close enough, his knees bump into it, knocking him off balance, and he more or less crashes onto his butt against the mattress. 
"So eager," Jimin teases as he rubs his hands over his neck, up into his light pink hair, and back down. 
"For you?" Yoongi responds, raising his eyebrows and nodding toward Jimin, feeling zero embarrassment over his floundering. "Absolutely."
"What are you so eager for?" Jimin asks with a grin that grows into something as beautiful as it is dangerous. 
"You," Yoongi responds without thinking. "All of you."
Jimin giggles. "Be more specific, hyung."
"I want to watch you strip again," Yoongi says, swallowing a lump of excitement that builds and builds in his throat, threatening to suffocate. "I want to worship you."
With another giggle, Jimin begins to thumb through his phone. The sound of a bluetooth speaker connecting somewhere to the right chimes through the room, and Yoongi turns to glance around, noticing a desk, a dresser, and an open closet door. Garments are strewn about – mostly shirts, it seems – and the dresser appears to be covered in various makeup items, beauty tools, and accessories. 
Over the speaker, a sexy R&B track begins to play, and Yoongi turns his attention back to Jimin, who tosses his phone over to the bed, to the right of Yoongi, and begins to sway his hips. Earlier, when Jimin was on stage, Yoongi was awestruck and struggled to fully comprehend what was happening. Especially with others around him cheering and shouting for Jimin, it took time for everything to settle over him.
But sitting in this dim room, just the two of them, knowing the type of body that Jimin has under all that leather and cotton, Yoongi's desire and anticipation reach new heights, and he leans back with his palms spread against Jimin's pink and orange floral comforter while butterflies kick up in his stomach. He almost feels the urge to pinch himself, worried once more that he might be dreaming.
Jimin lets the jacket fall to his wrists, then he lifts one hand slowly, dragging the material upward with his wrist until it slides free and falls. He lifts his other hand straight out and tilts his wrist until the material slides and crumples to the floor, and although it is just outerwear and Jimin is still fully clothed, the seductive movements have Yoongi sitting wide-eyed and mouth agape – entranced.
Yoongi barely registers the song that is playing, but he does not need to. Jimin's shoulders and hips amplify its tune, turning it into something tangible – something he could reach out and feel. Slowly, Jimin turns, and, with his fingertips dancing over the material of his t-shirt, he begins to untuck it little by little. 
White cotton drags over muscular shoulders with every movement, while black leather hugs his ass and thighs tightly. Then Jimin does a cute turn and sways down, bending his knees before swishing back up while lifting his shirt over his tummy and up, up, almost to his chest before spinning again and looking over his shoulder, pretending to be shy. 
Yoongi scoffs and shakes his head, absolutely charmed by Jimin's little show, still toeing the line between playful and sexy as the shirt lifts over his head completely and Jimin tosses it over his shoulder, straight at Yoongi's face. Yoongi barely lifts his hands, allowing the fabric to gently clobber him in a wave of warm strawberry, and when it falls to his lap, he lazily takes it in one hand and holds onto it. 
"Still wearing those cute hearts?" Yoongi asks, and when Jimin mock-pouts and says, "Sorry, hyung, I took them off," he feels the tiniest tinge of sadness. 
"What a shame," Yoongi responds, wetting his lips as Jimin turns and saunters closer, hands rubbing over his nipples, keeping them covered. "They were cute."
"You're cute, hyung. But no touching unless I say you can," Jimin instructs softly but firmly, nibbling his bottom lip while slotting one leg between Yoongi's thighs and lifting his other knee to the bed. 
Yoongi tips his head back, leaning to give Jimin space as he rolls and grinds his hips, rubbing his hands up, over his neck, and into his hair, and then down, over his nipples and abdominals. Jimin is delicate hills and valleys of taut muscle and soft skin, and all Yoongi can do is stare at the beauty before him while swallowing the saliva that has pooled beneath his tongue, threatening to drool past his lips. 
"Like what you see, hyung?" Jimin asks, making Yoongi chuckle. 
Yoongi has to find his voice, softly clearing his throat. "You know I do."
With a deep, inviting hum, Jimin presses his thigh between Yoongi's legs, applying just enough pressure to make the air get trapped in his lungs. Arousal simmers through Yoongi, and he gasps, which becomes a soft chuckle when he notices the playful look on Jimin's face. 
"Evil," Yoongi groans when Jimin's leg grazes over him again, feeling blood rush straight to his dick. 
"What's the matter, hyung?" Jimin sing-songs as he takes a step back, spins around, and lowers his ass to Yoongi's lap. 
With both hands planted on Yoongi's knees, Jimin rolls his hips in circles and grinds them forward and back, and Yoongi squeezes the comforter in both palms as he groans from the pressure, fighting how badly he wants to touch. 
The song switches to something else sultry and unfamiliar, and Jimin reaches back with one arm that drapes over Yoongi's shoulder, resting his head on his other shoulder while his hips lift and fall in quick but soft movements that graze over Yoongi's crotch. 
"You're good at this," Yoongi mutters, dazed, hardly sounding like himself. 
Jimin hums in agreement and says, "I'm good at a lot of things."
A particularly firm press of Jimin's ass against Yoongi's constricted dick has his eyes fluttering closed, and he practically whines, "Show me everything."
Jimin sits up, taking away the arm around Yoongi's shoulder, then glances back with a mischievous smile, still moving his hips in inviting circles. Yoongi can hear the slow drag of a zipper, each tooth releasing as Jimin's arms make small movements in front of him. And then he lifts his hands to the waistband of his pants, hooks his thumbs under the black leather to slowly push the garment down.
The movement is agonizingly slow, only revealing an inch before he pulls back up and begins to drag down little by little, exposing pinkish-white satin briefs. Yoongi wants to grab onto the pockets and yank the material to the floor, losing all sense of sitting like a good boy. 
"You're killing me," he grumbles, fisting the blanket tight. 
With a giggle, Jimin stands, pushes the pants all the way to his thighs, and then sits again, grinding down on Yoongi's lap. The delicate curve of Jimin's waist into soft hips and a round, perfect ass has Yoongi reeling; the fact that he has Jimin all alone, and he is teasing him like this, is still a bit hard to comprehend. And, to make matters worse – or better – sticking out from under Jimin's satin panties are white lace garters connected to white mesh thigh-high stockings. 
Yoongi groans, eager to show his appreciation while feeling at a loss for words, earning a light giggle in response. 
"How badly do you want to touch me?" Jimin teases, glancing over his shoulder. 
Yoongi tongues the inside of his mouth, raising his eyebrows while Jimin continues to watch him. "Oh, I'm going to fucking ruin you the second you give me permission to."
It is subtle the way Jimin's eyes widen and all mirth melts from his features – it only lasts a split second. But Yoongi clocks it, and he smirks, feeling victorious. 
Jimin turns and stands, bending himself in half while pushing his pants down to his ankles, and Yoongi watches as more drool pools under his tongue, gaze drifting down to where Jimin peeks from around his ankles to smile before slowly standing back up. He steps from the crumpled leather and then kicks the garment away before turning to Yoongi with his cock straining hard in those tight little briefs as he straddles his lap. 
"How was this performance, hyung?" Jimin asks, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's shoulders to play with his hair. 
At some point, the song had changed, but Yoongi barely registers the downtempo beat, staring at Jimin, who giggles and wiggles his hips back and forth in a quick, playful movement. He lifts his right hand and then drops it back to the blanket with a groan, rolling his head back and taking a quick moment to close his eyes. 
"It was more of a tease than the first one," Yoongi grumbles, tracing the soft lines of Jimin's neck and shoulders with his eyes before looking at his face. "But it was great, all the same; I thoroughly enjoyed it."
Jimin reaches down and palms over Yoongi's dick, which sits bunched up at an uncomfortable angle under restrictive denim, making him gasp from the pressure-ache that tears through him. 
"I can tell how thoroughly you enjoyed it, hyung."
At this, Yoongi chuckles, biting the inside of his mouth and biding his time for when it is his turn to be a menace.
"Did you notice my final surprise?" Jimin asks.
"The garters and stockings?" Yoongi asks, eyes drifting downward. 
"Not that," Jimin responds, and Yoongi cocks his head, unsure what he means.
"No…" he mutters. 
Jimin stares incredulously, heavy-blinking in disbelief. "What, really?" he practically shouts. "My ass was right in your face, how did you miss it?"
"I mean…your ass is…surprisingly perfect," Yoongi tries.
With a playful huff, Jimin rolls his eyes, grabs Yoongi's right hand, and wraps it around him, making Yoongi cup one of his cheeks. 
"You can touch only with this hand," Jimin says with an insistent gaze, "and only on my butt."
The material of these briefs is thin and smooth, gliding softly under Yoongi's palm. It takes Yoongi a moment of rubbing over the soft flesh, squeezing gently, and mapping its shape before his fingertips brush over something hard, making Jimin suck in a sudden gasp of air. 
"Oh?" Yoongi asks, grazing his fingertips against the spot with more purpose, making Jimin squirm. "What have we here?"
Jimin whimpers as Yoongi presses against the hard, round surprise before taking a handful to squeeze and spread, turning his sounds into soft moans. 
"Were you wearing this plug during the performance?" Yoongi asks, head tipped back to watch as Jimin's lips tremble and search for what to say.
"Yes," he finally sighs, lolling his head back with a moan when Yoongi passes his fingers firmly over it again. 
"You performed wearing an anal plug?" Yoongi asks again, watching as Jimin's cheeks flush and his eyes widen.
Jimin leans forward and presses his forehead against Yoongi's, nodding while whimpering a broken, "Uh-huh."
"While dancing and singing and tugging on my hair?" Yoongi continues, "While those eager boys stood and watched you flirt with me, you wore this, hoping I would bring you back here and find it."
"Yes, hyung," Jimin moans, and god if Yoongi had not already been fighting back the urge to absolutely destroy this pretty man in the most delicious ways possible, he would be now.
"You wanted me to find this plug, hmm?" Yoongi presses and rubs over it, squeezing and spanking while his other hand grips onto the blanket for dear life. "Wanted me to bend you over and pull it out…stretch you further on my cock…didn't you?"
"Hyung," Jimin whines, hips rolling lazily into Yoongi's touch.
Without another word, Yoongi slides his hand away and anchors himself back against the bed. Jimin scrambles, sitting back with his eyes bulging wide, making Yoongi chuckle.
"So naughty," Yoongi teases, voice full of mirth and sparking a petulant fire in Jimin's eyes.
"Hyung!" Jimin shouts, lifting a hand to smack Yoongi on the chest, which Yoongi catches despite not being given instruction to touch, just yet. Jimin looks incensed and gasps, eyes going between Yoongi's hand and his face.
"It's my turn," Yoongi rasps, biting back a grin. "Let me touch you."
Jimin blinks at him, clearly still processing the teasing, and Yoongi raises his eyebrows, impatient. 
"Fine," Jimin huffs brattily, yanking his hand from Yoongi's grasp and sliding from Yoongi's lap to take his place beside him on the bed. "It's your turn to strip, hyung. Give me a good show."
Yoongi stands, walks a couple paces into the room, and turns, letting the movement flow with the beat of whatever song is playing – something a little quicker-paced but still sexy enough to dance to. He rubs his hands over his neck, down his pecs, and over his tummy, watching as Jimin rests back on his palms with his thighs slightly spread, intently following every movement. 
Then Yoongi grips onto the bottom hem of his shirt and pulls it quickly over his head, messing up his hair in the process. He flings the garment at Jimin with maybe just a little too much force, and it hits him in the chest, falling to his lap.
"Wh—hyung!" Jimin shouts, tossing the shirt aside as Yoongi quickly undoes his belt and fly and shoves his jeans to the floor, stepping out of one side and then the other, and then reaching down to yank away his socks. 
"This is the worst strip tease I have ever seen!" Jimin shouts despite his eyes roving over Yoongi's body with a hunger that says otherwise. 
Yoongi approaches in two swift strides and bends to take Jimin by the backs of his knees. He lifts and spreads Jimin's legs, sending his back crashing against the bed, scrambling and squealing while Yoongi leans forward, legs draped over his hips, and grins. 
"What did I tell you I was going to do, Jiminah?" Yoongi asks sternly, caging Jimin in with his hands against the bed while Jimin's frantic movements cause their clothed cocks to rub against one another in an addictive jolt of energy. 
"R-ruin me," Jimin pants as his flailing slows to a stop.
Yoongi grins. "That's right. I am going to absolutely ruin you. Now be good for me and get on your hands and knees."
It appears to take about two seconds for Jimin to process Yoongi's words before he crawls back on his elbows, getting fully onto the bed, and turning to position himself on his hands and knees while Yoongi sinks down to the floor. Jimin moves toward the center of the bed when Yoongi stops him.
"Ah, ah, come back here, pretty." He pats the mattress as if calling over a puppy. "Want you right here."
Jimin crawls backward with a somewhat dazed, borderline humiliated look on his face, and Yoongi waits patiently until Jimin is settled on the edge of the bed with his ankles hanging near Yoongi's head. 
"Perfect," Yoongi groans as he sits high, reaches for the waistline of Jimin's pretty satin briefs, and pulls, uncovering his prize in all its soft yet muscular glory. 
Yoongi practically moans at the sight of Jimin stretched around a metal toy with a light pink rhinestone in the center, and he wastes no time reaching two handfuls of soft flesh to squeeze firmly in his palms. He spreads his hands wide to graze his thumbs over the toy, then uses one hand to begin slowly tugging on it while keeping Jimin spread. 
"God, look at you," Yoongi groans as Jimin's pucker tenses and relaxes with each movement. "Is this what you wanted? When you invited me to come watch you perform, did you picture me bending you over and playing with your ass afterward?"
"Yes," Jimin whines, sending a shiver down Yoongi's spine.
Yoongi uses his palm to gently strike Jimin's ass. The sound cracks through the room, punctuated by a moan, and Jimin shutters as he relaxes. 
"What did you imagine, exactly?" Yoongi asks, hearing a dazed, "What?" come from Jimin. 
"When you nestled this pretty little toy inside yourself tonight," Yoongi clarifies, rubbing over the reddened mark of his hand. "What were you imagining I would do to you?"
"I thought you would want to f-fuck me," Jimin says, sounding somewhat bashful. How cute. 
Yoongi rubs over Jimin's ass with both hands, then taps the tip of his index finger over the end of the toy, making Jimin tremble. "Is that all?"
"N-no," Jimin whimpers.
"Awe, is pretty Jimin too shy to dirty talk to his hyung now that he has me right where he wants me?"
All he hears in response is a low whine, and Yoongi chuckles, smacking and squeezing Jimin's ass just enough to make his legs quake. He wonders if Jimin likes becoming pliant and malleable in someone else's hands. 
"I can tell you what I imagine," Yoongi offers, sitting back before getting onto his feet to rub over Jimin's back and bend over him, draping himself to speak low into Jimin's ear. 
Jimin nods. 
"What I've imagined since the day we met—" Yoongi reaches with one hand to Jimin's chin and lifts his head up, then presses two fingers into his warm, wet mouth, "—is watching these sinful fucking lips wrap around my cock."
Jimin sucks on Yoongi's fingers, stirring a fire in his belly, and Yoongi nuzzles their cheeks together, pulling away as Jimin releases him with a pop. 
"And what I've imagined since that little performance of yours tonight—" Yoongi gently grips Jimin's chin and pulls him so that he is held in place, back arched and neck craned, looking him in the eye, "—is the sight of you riding me…using me to make yourself cum…squeezing me so nice and tight…all while tugging on my hair."
Jimin's eyes blow wide, and he gasps, staring at Yoongi as if he has just personally hung every star in the night sky. Reverent. 
"Would you like that, pretty?" Yoongi asks, and Jimin nods.
Yoongi grins. "Use your words, baby."
Brighter and wider, Jimin's eyes turn to heavenly disks, and Yoongi makes a mental note to call him baby a lot more. 
"Yes, hyung," Jimin mutters sweetly.
"Say my name. Tell me what you need."
"Yes, Yoongi," Jimin responds. "I need…you. Anything you want, please."
With a soft kiss against Jimin's cheek, Yoongi lowers Jimin down, continuing to drape himself over his body, keeping his weight from pressing on him too much. 
"Do you like to be more in control," Yoongi asks, dancing fingertips in Jimin's pink hair, "or do you like to submit?"
Jimin's voice has a slight tremble when he says, "Submit."
"Do you like it rough or soft?"
"Both."
Yoongi groans, pleased with that answer. "Do you have a safe word, baby?"
"S-strawberry."
"Strawberry, of course," Yoongi says, grinning. "Good. I'm going to make you feel so good, baby."
Yoongi feels Jimin's body relax beneath him as he sighs, "Please, Yoongi," in a voice fit for an angel.
Eager to learn all the pretty ways Jimin can sing, Yoongi gets back onto his feet, running his fingertips over the length of Jimin's back before dropping to his knees. He spreads Jimin wide, leans forward, and licks from just beneath the end of the plug to just above it, tasting cold metal and zirconia with a sticky-sweet hint of lube. 
Jimin moans low and arches his back, pressing his ass against Yoongi's face, and Yoongi chuckles as he grips tightly to both cheeks and licks again and again, straight lines and rounded ones, tasting and teasing.
"Do you get really sensitive?" Yoongi asks as he rests his cheek against the soft curve of Jimin's ass and takes the end of the toy between his fingers, tugging it ever so slightly – just enough to make Jimin whine. 
Jimin mutters a pitchy, "Uh-huh."
"Words, baby," Yoongi instructs with a somewhat stronger tug. 
Jimin sobs as he says, "Yes, Yoongi!"
"Good," Yoongi groans as he nuzzles against Jimin and nips gently at his skin. "We're gonna have a lot of fun together."
With a firm tug, Yoongi begins to pull the toy, taking it nice and slow while Jimin's hole stretches around the bulb. Jimin sobs with shaking legs, and Yoongi lifts his head and drops a dab of spit as he pushes the toy back in and gives it another tug. 
Back and forth, he tugs and presses, with more spit and kisses against Jimin's soft skin, again and again, until finally Jimin opens wide and releases the plug with a soft wail. 
"That's it, baby," Yoongi praises, licking over Jimin's rim with a firm twist of his tongue, making him moan. "So good for me."
Yoongi stands on somewhat shaky legs – knees, and calves tired from being bunched up on the floor – and he moves to the bedside table, grabs a tissue from a small box, and places it down to rest the plug onto. "You got lube in here?" he asks, tapping his fingernails against the small door on the front of the table. 
"No, on top," Jimin responds, and Yoongi glances around, then finds the bottle wedged behind the tissue box. 
"Is this the lube you used earlier?" Yoongi asks as he returns and takes in the sight of Jimin on his knees with his face pressed against his floral comforter.
"Don't pick on me," Jimin pouts, frowning, making Yoongi chuckle fondly.
"Not picking on you, baby," Yoongi responds, patting the center of the bed, closer to the pillow. "Come up here."
With a whimper and even deeper pout, Jimin anchors himself on his hands, and – like a doe learning to walk for the first time – fumbles and sways with forward momentum until he slams his chest down onto a pillow and wraps his arms around it. 
Yoongi gets onto the bed and crawls on his knees behind Jimin. The satin briefs are still around Jimin's legs, keeping him from spreading his knees too far, and Yoongi leaves them in place, curious how Jimin might enjoy a little movement restriction.
With his thumb, Yoongi flips open the lid of the lube bottle, then he squirts a generous amount onto his index and middle fingers and rubs the pad of his thumb through the sticky substance to warm it just a little. Then he rubs the slicked tips of his fingers over Jimin's hole, watching the way he trembles from even the slightest of touches. 
Slowly, Yoongi presses the tip of his middle finger in, testing how far the toy has stretched him. Although Jimin moans, his voice is steady as Yoongi pushes all the way to his knuckle and twists. The muscle does not squeeze too tight, so he pulls out and gently slides in another.
With his index finger added, Jimin squeezes him with a deep whimper and then relaxes. Yoongi takes it slow, rubbing his palm soothingly over Jimin's ass and thigh, pulling his fingers back and pressing them forward little by little. 
"Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop, pretty," Yoongi says as he watches his fingertips get swallowed. 
"Don't stop," Jimin whimpers, "give me more."
"More?" Yoongi teases, drawing the word out nice and long. 
"Please, Yoongi."
Yoongi twists his fingers as he pushes and pulls, listening to Jimin's deep voice become high-pitched and raspy. Satisfied with how Jimin feels around him – swallowing eagerly but not with a death grip – Yoongi adds his ring finger. 
Jimin trembles and bleats broken syllables as Yoongi presses three fingers into him. He twists slowly and dribbles spit onto Jimin's rim, giving himself a little more slide, working himself a little deeper. And Jimin takes him so well until he gets to his knuckles and the stretch feels too tight.
"Fuck," Jimin gasps, legs quaking. "Feels s-so good, but it—'s too much."
"I got you, baby," Yoongi says softly, planting kisses over Jimin's ass and upper thigh as he slides his fingers out and pauses. "Call your safe word if you want a break."
"No," Jimin pants. "I don't want a break, your fingers are just…they're too good."
Yoongi chuckles, slowly pressing his fingers back in, stopping before the knuckles, as he says, "Just breathe for me," with his lips dragging over Jimin's soft skin. 
Labored, panicked breaths make Yoongi smile and shake his head, and he slowly pulls out as he clarifies, "Breathe slowly, Jiminah. Don't make yourself dizzy; I don't need you passing out on me."
An impatient groan muffled by a blanket makes Yoongi sit up high on his knees and angle his body to get a look at Jimin, whose face is squished cutely into the bed with flushed cheeks and a frown in his brow. 
"Ya, what is it?" Yoongi teases, using his lubed fingers to give Jimin's ass a little smack, smiling at how the man cries and quakes. 
"Wanna ride you," Jimin groans indignantly. 
Yoongi wants to rile Jimin up so badly. He considers tickling the man until he crashes to the bed laughing – and probably throwing a tantrum. He wants to threaten not to let Jimin do anything he wants, just so he can be pouty and bratty and make Yoongi put him in his place a little – gently and sweetly, of course. He has to hold his tongue to not chide the poor guy for how grumpy and impatient he is, even as Yoongi stretches him. 
But he does not. Instead, Yoongi rubs both hands over Jimin's ass, spreading and squeezing while settling back down again. "I thought you wanted to be submissive," he asks, with only a hint of mirth.
"I do," Jimin responds, pout still evident in his tone. "I want to do both. I can't make up my mind."
"You can do both," Yoongi insists with a smirk, reaching for the lube bottle to slick his fingers back up. "I would love it if you rode me, baby. But if you can't take three knuckles, you sure as hell can't take my cock. So why don't you be a good boy and breathe nice and slow while I stretch you open, yeah?"
The breathy way in which Jimin mutters, "Yeah," tells Yoongi his message has been received loud and clear. The prospect alone of Jimin riding him has him very eager to get the other nice and ready. 
Yoongi slathers his three fingers in lube and begins to press them in. Jimin still huffs his exhales, but he is breathing less like a man who might be dying, for which Yoongi is grateful. It takes plenty of twisting and coaxing to slowly get the muscles to open for him, but Yoongi is patient, kissing and sucking on Jimin's skin while watching his fingers get swallowed. 
When Yoongi finally does finger Jimin past the knuckle – accompanied by a pitchy squeal and Jimin begging, "Fuck, fuck, don't stop, please don't fucking stop," – he stops, letting Jimin adjust to the stretch. 
"That's it," Yoongi praises, rubbing his palm over Jimin's ass and thigh while his fingers stay nestled deep inside him. "I knew you could take me. Just had to be a little patient."
"I've fantasized about how your knobby knuckles would feel but fuck, they are so big," Jimin whines, making Yoongi laugh. 
He squeezes Jimin's ass in his palm, then slowly begins to pull his fingers out, watching as Jimin opens wide to accommodate him once more. "You've fantasized about my fingers, huh?"
"H-hyung," Jimin groans, sounding embarrassed.
"Say my name, pretty," Yoongi sweetly commands as he twists his fingers out and begins to plunge them back in, meeting far less resistance. 
"Y-Yoongi," Jimin sobs, trembling as Yoongi twists – pulling out and pushing back in. 
The sight of his fingers getting swallowed whole has Yoongi's jaw hanging slack, drool pooling beneath his tongue. Jimin is an absolute vision, and the more his light-dusky pucker becomes flushed and reddened with pleasure, the hungrier Yoongi is to give and give and give. Anything to paint him prettily with bliss. Anything to hear the sweet, broken sounds he makes. 
"What is it, baby," Yoongi asks, twist-pulling and plunging deep. 
Jimin hiccups and Yoongi rotates his torso to lean just enough to see Jimin's fist grasping at the comforter. "N-need you."
"I'm here," Yoongi coos while rubbing his palm over Jimin's ass and lower back, fingertips mapping and memorizing. "You're almost ready for me."
Yoongi pulls out, then uses the index fingers of both hands hooked into Jimin's rim to open him nice and wide. Jimin sobs as Yoongi stretches him, slowly plunging his fingers in and out in a push and pull, watching as the welcoming rings of muscle tense and relax. 
"Wh-what are you doing to me?" Jimin groans, as he sinks a little further forward, pushing his ass ever so slightly higher. 
"Admiring you, baby," Yoongi says, sitting high on his knees to dribble a dollop of spit into Jimin's hole to squelch between his two fingers. "You have no idea how fucking perfect you are."  
Jimin hiccups as he moans, and Yoongi slowly pulls out, one finger and then the other, watching as his pucker tightens and tightens.
"Alright, baby," Yoongi says as he sits back on his knees and open-palm kneads at Jimin's fleshy thighs, feeling supple skin, rough lace, and soft mesh against his palms. "Wanna be a good boy and show hyung how you ride cock?"
A pitchy, garbled, "Uh-huh," leaves Jimin's mouth in a rush as he pushes himself on shaking limbs until he is seated on his knees. Yoongi slides off the bed and walks toward the head, moving pillows and the comforter out of the way, revealing a pretty green floral sheet. He pushes his dark briefs down to the floor, stepping out of each side as he places his knees onto the bed, knee-walks the center, and then sits, spreading his thighs while Jimin grabs the bottle of lube and hobbles close. 
Without preamble, Jimin cages Yoongi's hips between his arms and licks a slow stripe up the underside of his aching, neglected cock, sending a thrill of pleasure shooting through him that has a moan storming from his lungs. Yoongi's head thumps against the headboard as he sinks against the cool, wooden surface, and he lifts his hands to gently take Jimin by the hair and chin. 
"Hyung tastes so good," Jimin coos sweetly, glancing up through his eyelashes while poking out his pretty pink tongue to lap at the dribble of precum at his tip. 
Yoongi was not planning on getting his dick sucked – he was dead set on Jimin's pleasure first and foremost, eager to give absolutely anything to him that he wants. But if what Jimin wants is to put those pretty lips to use, Yoongi would not dare say no. 
"Is that so?" Yoongi urges, eager to press Jimin to say more – hopeful that he will turn shy and sweet like before.
Jimin nods, blinking with a lust-drunk haze in his eyes before looking down into Yoongi's trimmed dark pubes as he says, "Salty-sweet…so yummy…"
"It's all yours, baby," Yoongi says as he drags his trimmed, blunt fingernails along the sharp lines of Jimin's jaw. "Anything you want, it's yours."
Jimin lets his tongue hang long, blinking upward while drool pools and dribbles onto Yoongi's tip, dripping down to disappear from view. "Want to make a mess," he slurs, barely pulling his tongue back enough to speak clearly. 
"Yeah?" Yoongi urges, "you wanna make a mess of me, baby?"
Jimin nods, curving his lips upward, saliva pooling and dripping. Yoongi fights the urge to beg him to do more – wants Jimin to go at his own pace and enjoy himself, even if it means Yoongi vibrates with nerves and anticipation, bordering on impatience and flat-out desperation. 
Luckily, Jimin does not make him wait long. With a deep, eager groan, Jimin sucks Yoongi's tip into his mouth without using his hands, then curves his back and neck, doing his best to swallow him down. Pleasure quakes through Yoongi, and he sinks further into the bed, dragging his head back against the headboard while he moans deep and appreciative. 
He tips his head to the side to watch Jimin's spit-slick petal lips drag along his length. Jimin hums and moans, which vibrates just enough to make Yoongi shiver, sucking his cheeks and swishing his tongue in a hypnotic dance. 
Slowly, Yoongi climbs to the precipice of bliss, further each time Jimin takes him a little deeper and swallows a little harder. Then Jimin changes position, sitting higher on his knees, and he takes Yoongi into his throat and swallows hard, sending a heavy wave of euphoria crashing inside him. Yoongi's fingers, which had been loosely holding onto Jimin's hair and face, grip onto Jimin's hair, and he tugs gently without pulling too hard. 
"Shit, baby, that's it," Yoongi whines, voice coming out pitchy and breathy. "Won't last if you keep swallowing me like that."
Jimin hums and swallows harder, holding Yoongi in his throat long enough to make Yoongi begin to spiral; long enough for Jimin to come up for air with a heavy gasp. Spit hangs from Jimin's lips and tongue in thick strings, and when he blinks, mascara leaves little black streaks on his face. 
"Pretty, messy baby," Yoongi praises with a smile that feels crooked and heavy. He knows he must look absolutely fucked out, and the way Jimin's eyes shimmer has affection blooming deep behind his ribs. 
Jimin grins, then sinks back down, sucking and swallowing eagerly while setting a quick pace bobbing his head. The faint pass of Jimin's teeth along Yoongi's length sends a tickle up his spine that has his back arching, and with each upward stroke of his lips, spit collects and trickles, coating his balls and dribbling over his asshole. 
Yoongi is close, and he grips Jimin's hair a little tighter, guiding his head a little deeper. He whimpers broken pleas for Jimin to keep going that hardly sound like words – whisps of sounds flitting into the air as he struggles to keep his bearings. Jimin's mouth is better than Yoongi could have possibly anticipated, and he submits fully to letting Jimin send him straight into the clouds. He wants to cum down that pretty throat so badly. 
"Fuck," Yoongi mutters, finally finding his voice. "Gonna cum, baby. Will you swallow for me?"
Jimin seems to try to nod, muttering some kind of response that amounts to consonants and sputtered drool, and Yoongi loosens his grip on Jimin's hair, letting his hands slide and fall away to fist at the sheet, instead. It only takes three more passes of those perfect fucking lips to make Yoongi absolutely dissolve.
"Gonna c—" is all he chokes out before painting Jimin's tongue and throat. 
Jimin gags slightly but continues to suck and swallow, humming and moaning between Yoongi's sharp, raspy sounds of pleasure. His orgasm flows through him hot and quick, erupting and intoxicating. Only once he is trembling from overstimulation does Jimin release his cock, licking once more from base to tip with his mouth hanging agape. 
Streaks of viscous white streak Jimin's tongue, and Yoongi takes him by the jaw and gently lifts, urging Jimin to sit up and crash into him. Yoongi licks into Jimin's mouth, tasting his own heady release, and Jimin melts forward, laying his torso heavily against Yoongi while very slowly crawling up into a seated position on his lap. 
"Was that what you were imagining, hyung?" Jimin asks against his mouth, making Yoongi chuckle.
"Better," he rasps. "I could never have imagined anything feeling that good, Jiminah."
Jimin blushes as he asks, "Did you like how my lips looked?" and Yoongi raises an eyebrow, tilting his head back to get a better look at him. "Wrapped around you," Jimin continues, nibbling on his plush, kiss-swollen bottom lip. 
"You know I did." Yoongi leans in to place a soft kiss against Jimin's lips, deciding instead to suck them into his mouth, one after the other, making him giggle. "You looked and felt like heaven, baby."
Jimin leans back into Yoongi, wrapping his arms around his neck and gently tugging at his hair. They kiss, lick, suck, and nip in unhurried movements, tasting and teasing while Yoongi's dick recovers and begins to harden once more. Sticky-cool saliva transfers from Jimin's chin to Yoongi's, aiding in the mess that was promised, and Yoongi slowly sucks at Jimin's tongue tip, making him drool even more. 
Time grinds to a halt, suspended and of no use to them. Yoongi passes his hands over Jimin's shoulders, down the slopes of his back and hips and ass – anywhere he can reach. Occasionally, Jimin shivers and sighs, and Yoongi cannot help but smile, endeared and eager to know every single sensitive spot he may have. 
One of Jimin's hands leaves Yoongi's hair and travels down, tickling as his fingernails delicately scrape down his pec, across his ribs, to his hip. When Jimin wraps his hand around Yoongi's growing erection, engulfing him in pleasure and warmth, Yoongi gasps, rolling his eyes back and nodding as he mutters, "Almost ready for you."
Jimin releases Yoongi and reaches for the lube before using both hands to slick him up. Yoongi is grateful that Jimin does not warm it in his hands, hissing with delight at the cold touch. Jimin giggles deviously, chewing on his lip, and Yoongi gazes down at his cock between two slender, pretty hands before returning his attention to Jimin's face. 
"Now are you ready, hyung?" Jimin asks as he sits high on his knees and positions himself over Yoongi's tip. 
Yoongi uses both hands to steady Jimin's thighs, dancing his fingertips over the stockings, then gripping gently while Jimin reaches up to the top of the headboard and leans his chest close to Yoongi's face. 
"I don't think I could ever fully be ready for someone as perfect as you fucking me, Jiminah," Yoongi confesses with a smile, tilting his head until his tongue is able to flit out and drag over a dusky, pert nipple. "You'll just have to give it to me; force me to be ready. Don't hold back."
"As you wish, hyung," Jimin responds sweetly as he begins to sink down. 
The tip of Yoongi's cock breaches Jimin's hole with a shutter and whimper from both men in tandem. Yoongi grips Jimin's hips bruisingly, expecting Jimin to stop and adjust, but Jimin keeps lowering, down, down, down until he is fully seated and choking pretty, broken sobs. 
Yoongi is overwhelmed with pleasure, squeezed with blissful tight warmth, and he quakes with each gentle squeeze of muscle around him. His breath feels heavy in his lungs, and as he lets out a groaned exhale, he releases his grip on Jimin's thighs and rests his head back in a desperate attempt to get his bearings, teetering on the brink of total mental collapse.
"Hol—" is all Yoongi manages to moan as Jimin lifts and drops, slamming his ass against Yoongi's thighs, letting out a dulcet whimper that is rivaled by Jimin's pitchier one. 
"Big," Jimin mutters as he picks up a dizzying pace of slowly lifting before forcefully dropping, spearing himself so nice and deep, Yoongi feels like he may be carving the poor guy open. 
Jimin is magnificent with his head tilted back and lips hung wide, whimpering as he rises and drops and rises and drops. Somehow exactly as Yoongi imagined, yet so much more. His cock glistens hard against his tummy, dribbling with precum and so neglected, bouncing against his abs with each drop, leaving a little splatter behind.
"I won't last," Yoongi admits, feeling the blissful, agonizing squeeze that is only intensified as Jimin's muscles flutter with pleasure. "I usually have more—ahh—s-stamina, but you feel so g-good."
"Awe, hyungie," Jimin purrs, tilting his head forward and opening his dreamy, lust-lidded eyes. "That's ok. I just hope you can keep going…ruin me like you promised."
"I can," Yoongi croaks. It will be much easier to stave off his orgasm when he is in full control; like this, he doesn't stand a chance. 
"There's always tomorrow, too," Jimin mutters half-dazed, and Yoongi smirks at the prospect of Jimin wanting him after tonight. 
Yoongi rubs his hands up Jimin's hips, along the delicate curve of his waist and the white lace garter, and further, palming over pecs. As Jimin lifts and drops, Yoongi almost feels overwhelmed by the arousal that pools and pools, warm and aching in his center, tingling to his limbs, filling him with desire. He wants to grab Jimin tight and fuck up into him, but Jimin feels and looks so amazing he lets him take his time. 
With a grin that morphs into a bite of his lower lip, Jimin lifts his hips and swivels them, whorling around Yoongi's tip and tugging up, making him gasp and groan. Yoongi rubs his hands down to Jimin's waist and gently holds, helping keep him steady while the dancer twists and swishes, creating dizzying patterns to the song Yoongi barely hears over the pounding of his heart. 
"God, your body…" Yoongi mutters, eyes heavy as he watches muscle tense and soften. 
"You like how I feel, hyung?" Jimin mutters as he swirls up. 
Before Yoongi can respond, Jimin begins to bounce his ass up and down to the beat of the background song, just fucking himself on Yoongi's tip – teasing in a most delightful way. 
"How you feel…" Yoongi mutters, head rolling back against the headboard, looking down his nose at the beauty above him. "How you look, how you sound…you're fucking perfect, baby."
Jimin smiles and runs his hands over Yoongi's neck, then uses one hand to leverage himself on Yoongi's shoulder while the other takes a handful of hair and grips tight. 
"You're just saying that because I'm fucking you," Jimin teases through gasps and whimpers, gaze turning sharp while he begins to drop his hips back down and spear himself deep.
Even with a cock buried inside him, Jimin is a brat. Yoongi finds it way too endearing, though he is eager to flip the pretty dancer over and fuck him so good he can no longer talk back. He rolls his eyes, moaning as Jimin rides him a little steadier, trying to ignore how rapidly his pleasure builds.
"True," Yoongi mutters, playing along. If Jimin wants to be petulant, two can play this game.
"Ah—" Jimin moans, "I knew it. Just using me for my perfect ass."
Yoongi's hands slide over the soft, inviting curves of Jimin's hips and ass, and he takes two splayed handfuls and gives him a squeeze, moaning, "Exactly."
With his palms gripping tight, Yoongi assists Jimin in his movements, lifting and dropping him in a nice steady rhythm. Rather than attempt to stave his high, he chases it now, eager to change positions and give Jimin more. 
Jimin whimpers and sobs, breath coming out punchy and ragged while his tip leaks precum. 
"Are you close, baby?" Yoongi asks, receiving only a whimpered, "Uh-huh," in response. 
"What did I say about using your words?" Yoongi insists through grit teeth, finding it harder to steady his breathing and speak clearly. 
"Yes, Yoongi," Jimin moans, sending a chill down Yoongi's spine at the sound of his name. "I'm so close."
Yoongi pulls one hand away, lifts it to his mouth, and spits into his palm. He stares up at Jimin as he wraps his hand around Jimin's cock head and squeezes just enough to elicit a moan and shiver from him, then he begins to stroke nice and slow, collecting dribbled precum on his palm.
"Hyung," Jimin whimpers, body tensing and relaxing over and over. 
"Say my name, baby," Yoongi instructs with a smirk, watching Jimin's lips tremble and form unvoiced syllables. 
Jimin leans forward and takes two handfuls of Yoongi's hair as he lifts and slams his ass with purpose. Each breath Yoongi pants hits Jimin's chest, creating a pocket of sticky warmth between them. 
"Yoongi," Jimin whines as his grip tightens, tugging on Yoongi's scalp and making him hiss. 
"Yes, baby?"
Jimin's voice cracks, barely croaking out the words, "I'm gonna cum."
"Cum for me, Jiminah," Yoongi moans, feeling his own high reach its peak. "Cum all over this cock, baby, let me feel you."
Jimin's muscles squeeze and release– frenzied and dizzying as his rhythm falters. Rather than lift, he grinds, burying Yoongi so deep, the air feels trapped in Yoongi's chest. 
"That's it, baby," Yoongi wheezes through grit teeth, stroking Jimin at an angle that has him gently punching his fist against both their tummies. "Use my cock to get yourself off. Fuck, you feel so good."
Jimin's back arches and his body quakes as he cums. Yoongi squeezes at his tip, urging more and more release to coat his fist sticky-white, digging his heels into the mattress as he fucks his hips upward, just enough to get Jimin bouncing and moaning. Jimin squeezes him so tight, pushing him right over the edge. 
"Gonna cum, baby," Yoongi groans as every nerve prickles tingly and hot, ready to burst. 
"Fill me, Yoongi," Jimin sobs as he bounces in quick, shallow movements. "Make me messy."
The squeeze of Jimin's muscles, and fucked out, eager sound of his voice has Yoongi's orgasm hitting hard. He releases Jimin's cock, gripping onto his thighs with both hands as his body trembles roughly with pleasure. Yoongi barely makes a sound, rasping around heaving breaths as his eyes squeeze momentarily tight, attempting to relax as his orgasm pulses through him in tremendous bursts, making him see stars. 
"That's it, hyung," Jimin whimpers, leaning all the way forward, draping himself over Yoongi's shoulders. "Feels so good."
Yoongi sits back, catching his breath as his cock softens, running his clean palm up Jimin's back while the cum-covered hand falls to the side. Jimin's muscles continue to flutter, and he nuzzles his face against Yoongi's neck, leaving lazy, wet kisses against the skin and filling Yoongi with butterflies. 
The music continues to play, changing from one sexy beat to another. A female artist sings, but Yoongi is unable to make out what she is saying. His pulse thumps in his ears and throat, forcing each breath out in a lively beat of his own. 
"It feels nice to just…sit here and hold you," Jimin mutters against Yoongi's skin. 
"I would hug you back but one of my hands is covered in your cum."
Jimin hums in understanding, adding, "You got it on my thigh," with a familiar bratty tone. 
"You wanted to be messy," Yoongi grumbles with a smile, feeling absolutely smitten. 
Jimin groans, "I did," as he slowly begins to sit up, taking the warmth of his body away. 
Yoongi shivers as the sweat that covers him turns cold. He tips his head back and looks up as Jimin settles on his lap, cock-warming him while sitting tall, smiling sweetly. 
"I guess since you got what you wanted, you don't need me anymore," Jimin teases with a smirk and a lift of one eyebrow as he reaches out and undoes what is left of the bun in Yoongi's hair, tossing his trusty hair tie aside. 
Yoongi rolls his eyes and lolls his head back, trying not to smile as he mutters, "Really, Jiminah?"
With wide, playful eyes, Jimin nods, sliding his ass up, up, up until Yoongi's soft, cum-covered cock falls away, making him shudder. 
"You had a taste of my perfect ass, so—"
"Oh, I had a taste, alright," Yoongi interrupts with a grin, sitting up and causing Jimin to move slightly backward. "You think I'm gonna just leave now? Never to see you again?"
Jimin's playful demeanor begins to crumble as Yoongi lifts his soiled hand and begins to lick at what is left of Jimin's heady, salty-sweet release. 
"Uh, I—" Jimin says, lips forming around syllables he never voices. 
"What about promising me tomorrow? Hmm?" Yoongi asks before dragging his tongue over his knuckles, cleaning the remnants of Jimin's cum.
Now that his hand is far less messy, Yoongi grips onto Jimin's waist nice and tight and lift-pushes the dancer onto his back. Jimin yelps as he hits the pretty green sheet, pink hair sweat-stuck together in little spikes, fanning messily around his beautiful face. 
"I'm not finished with you yet," Yoongi says as he gets onto his knees and towers over Jimin. "Weren't you just whining about me ruining you moments ago?"
Jimin giggles softly, reaching his arms to wrap around Yoongi's neck. Yoongi gently takes Jimin by the wrists and pushes his arms to the mattress, pressing his weight down, watching with delight as Jimin gasps and shivers beneath him. 
"You really think I could only do this once?" Yoongi teases as he leans forward, crowding Jimin's space. "Now that I've had a taste of you, I'll be craving you, Jiminah."
"I-is that so?" Jimin breathes, head tilting as if offering the expanse of his neck to Yoongi – an invitation Yoongi takes as he drags his lips over salt-slick skin. 
"That is so."
"Are you sure you can keep going?" Jimin asks sweetly. "You just came twice."
"I could fuck you all night, baby," Yoongi insists, licking and nipping until Jimin gasps. "Just need a moment to get hard again. Why? Can you keep going?"
Each breath that puffs from Jimin's lips sounds heavy. "I can, but…I might get overstimulated."
"I know," Yoongi groans with a smile. "I watched you fall apart on my fingers, remember?"
"I might get…really…lost," Jimin admits.
Yoongi releases Jimin's hands and moves them to the mattress so he can press more weight down and angle himself upward just enough to look Jimin in the eyes. 
"Like, subspace?" Yoongi asks, watching Jimin's eyes widen. 
"Maybe," Jimin mutters. "I just get really…floaty. Like my soul and body are disconnected…held together by pleasure."
Yoongi nods in understanding. "Do you want to hold off, then? Wait until we're more comfortable with each other before you go there with me?"
The smile that tugs on Jimin's lips is sweet, and his eyes sparkle as he says, "I have a feeling you will take good care of me, hyung."
Affection bursts warm in Yoongi's chest. "Of course, I will. But I still understand if that's something you want to build up to."
Jimin shakes his head and nibbles on his lip. "I trust you. I'll call my safe word if I need to."
"You don't go non-verbal at all?"
Jimin pinches his brow and shakes his head. "No."
"Alright," Yoongi agrees, eager to keep going as long as Jimin feels safe. 
Jimin leans forward, groaning as his chin juts out, puckering for a kiss, making Yoongi chuckle softly. Yoongi closes the gap and presses further, allowing Jimin to lie comfortably, and he licks and sucks at Jimin's soft, sinful mouth. 
"Sorry for ruining the mood with talking," Jimin mutters against Yoongi's lips.
Yoongi hums as he licks into Jimin's warm, petal mouth, opening him wide; making space. Jimin tastes so delicately sweet yet heady, and Yoongi has no choice but to chase every nuanced flavor, eager to discover more. Jimin's hums and groans are music to Yoongi's ears, and he swallows each sound with ease. 
Rather than lifting his head, Yoongi simply stops kissing, letting his lips rest on Jimin, who smiles. Yoongi wishes he could adequately communicate just how important every little thing Jimin thinks, feels, and needs is, to him. 
"Discussing boundaries is never a mood killer," Yoongi insists against his lips. "I never want you to hold anything back."
"Thank you, hyung," Jimin mutters, leaving pecks of soft kisses along Yoongi's mouth and chin.
"Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum, Jiminah. You deserve to be cared for."
The way Jimin squeals and wiggles beneath him makes his smile go lopsided. Yoongi lifts his head just enough to watch Jimin's cheeks flush, taking in the beauty of his shimmery and black makeup smudged around his eyes. 
"Shut up," Jimin groans.
"Shut me up," Yoongi challenges with a waggle of his eyebrows. 
Jimin tilts his chin up once more, chasing a kiss. As Yoongi leans down, giving into his desire, one warm hand wraps around his half-hard cock, making him shiver and groan; this certainly is one way to get him to stop talking. 
"Want you again, Yoongi," Jimin pleads into Yoongi's open mouth, tugging on his cock. "Need you."
"You have me, baby," Yoongi practically moans, licking against Jimin's lips as his arousal simmers and warms him. "Turn over, on your stomach."
Jimin nods as he deepens the kiss, licking eagerly into Yoongi's mouth, sighing as Yoongi pushes and pulls with his tongue. When Jimin breaks the kiss, fingertips dig into Yoongi's neck and shoulder, and both men are panting, thickening the air between them with moist warmth. 
Jimin begins to wiggle around onto his side, then his stomach, and Yoongi stays where he is, caging him in with his arms and lifting his knees one after the other to accommodate Jimin's legs. Once Jimin is settled, Yoongi leans forward and presses his lips to the back of Jimin's neck, nipping and swirling his tongue as Jimin moans, back bowing delicately – trembling.
Yoongi kisses down the curve of Jimin's spine, crawling backward onto his knees. He sucks marks at the top of Jimin's ass, nipping and licking over dewy-smooth skin and lifting his hands to cup and squeeze. As he sits up, he kneads gently into Jimin's perfect, pillowy flesh, spreading him wide. Jimin's puffy rim glistens with leaked cum, and Yoongi wets his lips as he runs two fingertips over the mess before pressing deep inside. 
Jimin moans loudly, broken and debauched, as Yoongi fingers his tight asshole, feeling his own cum squelch, icky and enticing. He looks around for the bottle of lube and leans back, allowing his fingers to be slowly released as he reaches for it with his free hand. 
"You sure you can keep going?" Yoongi asks as he flicks the lube bottle open with his thumb, caressing the soft swell of Jimin's ass and thigh. 
"I'm not fragile, hyung," Jimin whimpers with his hands beside his head, clutching onto the comforter that has been bunched up and pushed out of the way. 
"Never said you were," Yoongi smiles fondly, squirting lube into his palm and working it over his cock, hissing from the sensation on his tender skin. "Just don't want to push you too far."
Jimin groans a pitchy sound that Yoongi assumes is impatience. "We already discussed this. My safe word is strawberry, hyung. Please fuck me."
Yoongi rubs his lubed hand sloppily over Jimin's hole, nibbling his lip as Jimin bucks and trembles against him. "Say that last part again."
There is a second of hesitation, followed by a soft sigh that makes Yoongi grin. He opens his mouth to ask again nicely, but Jimin beats him to it, muttering, "Please fuck me, Yoongi."
Jimin spreads his thighs flat against the bed and extends his legs straight, laying in a perfect split, and Yoongi gasps at the sight of him. He leans forward to accommodate the new height, gripping onto his length with one hand and Jimin's hip with the other. With a devious giggle, Jimin begins to bounce his ass, clapping his cheeks softly in a show that has Yoongi absolutely reeling. 
Without a moment more to spare, Yoongi leans forward on his knees and lines himself up with Jimin's rim, using his non-sticky hand to guide one of Jimin's hips. "You're a fucking menace," he groans as he presses in, in, in, spearing Jimin open as they whine and moan in tandem, feeling pleasure burst through his limbs like rays of warm, alluring light. 
"Squeezing me, baby," Yoongi rasps as he slowly slides out, giving Jimin no time to adjust. He places both hands on Jimin's hips and begins to rock his body, fucking into Jimin without moving his own hips. The delicate, elongated stretch of Jimin's mesh clad legs, right down to the tips of his pretty little toes has Yoongi torn between wanting to cherish him like something delicate or completely wreck him. 
"Such a slutty little dancer and you're all mine," Yoongi teases as he continues to rock Jimin's hips against him, watching his puffy rim swallow him whole. "What would your admirers think if they knew you wore a plug on stage while you were doing the splits to tease me?"
"Hyung," Jimin whines, burying his face down into the comforter. 
Yoongi slides his hands to the bed and leans forward, slowly thrusting his hips up and down while walking his hands up to Jimin's armpits, hovering nice and close. The scent of strawberry mixed with a faint, sweaty musk is sticky-sweet enticing, and Yoongi lets his eyes flutter closed as he takes a deep breath in. 
"You even performed for all of our friends wearing a toy," Yoongi rasps beside Jimin's ear. "What would they think of you?"
"Stop," Jimin whines, dragging the word long and whiny. 
Yoongi nuzzles his face against Jimin's nape, nipping at short pink hairs. "Alright, I'll stop teasing you, baby," he mutters sweetly, smiling at the sound of Jimin cooing happily. 
"Mmm, I like it," Jimin admits with a groan, making Yoongi nuzzle harder, grinning at the thought of Jimin feeling shy.
The smacking of skin is heard in lewd, rhythmic bursts. Yoongi fucks Jimin nice and steady, listening for the strained "Ah!" that punctuates each thrust, huffing small sounds of his own. 
Yoongi begins to sit back, careful not to let his hips lose too much rhythm. Once on his knees, Yoongi spreads Jimin wide with both hands and leans his weight into him, fucking him much faster. Jimin jiggles hypnotically, and Yoongi gives him light spanks to each cheek, unable to resist playing with him; delighted by the sound of him squealing. 
"Hyung, I want to cum again," Jimin cries, gripping the floral blanket tight. 
Yoongi wants to watch him cum – wants to touch and tease his cock while praising him and making him sob. As he slowly pulls out, Jimin trembles and groans in protest. Yoongi gives his ass a couple of light taps and mutters, "On your back." 
"Hyung" Jimin complains, elongating the word, making Yoongi smirk. 
Jimin crawls slightly forward and bends at the knees, then flops onto his side, huffing dramatically as if he cannot be bothered to move a single inch more. 
"I know, I know," Yoongi mutters, grabbing Jimin by the hips and pulling him the rest of the way onto his back. Jimin squeals and laughs, spreading his legs wide while watching with eager, mascara-smudged eyes as Yoongi continues to position him right where he wants him. 
"Sorry I can't choose between wanting to see your ass and wanting to see your face," Yoongi grumbles defensively while pumping his cock and reaching for the bottle of lube. He squirts some directly onto his shaft – cool liquid on warm skin – and he smears it in one stroke.
"Wow, and they say chivalry is dead," Jimin teases, lifting his eyebrows playfully with a grin. 
Yoongi slides his length into Jimin's tight warmth in one swift movement, and Jimin's grin falls agape as his back arches. He lets out a deep, pleased moan that Yoongi mirrors with a slow intake of air, filling his lungs. The curve of Jimin's neck, along his chest, and down to his tummy bows delicately taut, and Yoongi maps each inch with his eyes, stunned by his beauty. 
When Jimin settles slowly onto his back, Yoongi reaches forward and slots two fingers into Jimin's mouth. Jimin clamps his lips closed and gently sucks as Yoongi begins to set a steady pace with his hips. 
"Good boy," he praises, and Jimin's eyes blow wide. "So fucking good for me. So pretty and tight and perfect."
Jimin anchors himself onto his elbows, muttering something that sounds like a question, and Yoongi nods, smiling sweetly down at Jimin, watching his hard, leaking cock slap his tummy with each thrust. 
"Perfect, pretty Jiminah. And you're all mine."
More sounds are uttered around Yoongi's fingers as Jimin's eyes roll and his head bobs with the rocking of their bodies. Yoongi reaches between them and rolls his palm over the tip of Jimin's cock, eliciting his eyes to open big and round. 
Already, Jimin looks dazed, back draped slightly with his head held up only enough to suck on Yoongi's fingertips, supported against his elbows. Jimin's fingers slowly dance over the material of his green floral sheet, legs flayed lazily around Yoongi's hips. 
Yoongi slowly tugs at Jimin's length, making him whimper and sputter incoherently. Jimin rocks his hips and squeezes around Yoongi in a rhythm matching Yoongi's thrusts – must be chasing his own high. Seeing Jimin looking dazed and eager to cum again, stuffed with fingers and cock, Yoongi's mind races as he attempts to sort out how he got so fucking lucky.
"'S good," Jimin whines, dropping his head back and letting Yoongi's drool-slick fingers drag over his chin. 
Yoongi continues his pace – a deliberate roll of hips – letting his fingers slowly fall past Jimin's chin, to his chest, tracing curves and dips until finally taking hold of him around the ribs. Gradually, Jimin's arms give way, and he lies back – head first, then shoulders, sinking deeper against green flowers with his eyes hazy and wide. 
"Are you floaty, Jiminah?" Yoongi asks sweetly, wetting his salty-dry lips. 
Jimin hums and crooks a lazy smile, lifting his hands slowly to rub over his pecs and tummy. Yoongi follows the movements, feeling affection swirl and swell behind his ribs. At this pace, he thinks he could fuck Jimin for an eternity if he tried; his pleasure simmers just below the surface nice and steady, with no risk of boiling over too soon. 
"Ah—Yoongi," Jimin gasps, chest heaving and falling. "I'm—"
Yoongi rolls his palm over Jimin's tip and gives him a firm enough squeeze to make him sob. 
"Gonna cum, pretty?" he asks. 
Wide-eyed and mouth droopy-round, Jimin nods. His lips form shapes unvoiced, and Yoongi continues to roll and squeeze, languidly syncopating his quicker thrusts. 
"Cum for me, baby. Get nice and messy."
Jimin's eyes flutter, and his back arches slowly, head and heels digging into the mattress. "Please, please, please," he mutters softly like a prayer, palms flaying and squeezing above his ribs. 
"Relax and let go," Yoongi urges sweetly. "Let yourself float."
As if reacting on command, Jimin's body goes rigid and taut before quaking and sinking – thunder growling from his depths and dispersing out. He spurts tiny piles of cum onto Yoongi's fingers and palm, mouth forming softly-uttered stormy sounds. Even in the throes of incomprehensible bliss, every little thing Jimin does is eloquent; a performer and a muse. 
"Harder," Jimin groans, taking Yoongi by surprise. "P-please, Yoongi, need you."
Yoongi grips Jimin's hips with both hands, smearing cum on his sweat-slick, goosebumped skin. He picks up a pace that has Jimin's legs lifting and stretching, and Yoongi slings both calves against his shoulders before leaning in and taking hold of his hips once more. 
Jimin wails, eyes squeezed as if pained, licking and biting at his reddened lower lip. His arms lift and fall around his head, and he grips onto the bunched-up pink and orange comforter.
"This how you want it?" Yoongi asks, feeling his high build and build, impossible to hold at bay.
"Mmm, 's good," Jimin slurs, opening his eyes wide and smiling before his face falls back into a state of lazy bliss. 
Yoongi would love for Jimin to cum once more but has no idea whether he can. His cock is limp and resting against his patch of cutely trimmed pubic hair, jostling with each slam of Yoongi's hips against his thighs. 
"Not gonna last at this pace," Yoongi warns through grit teeth, his high climbing fast toward its breaking point. 
"Fill me," Jimin mutters dazedly. "Make me messy."
"Say my name," Yoongi rasps as he fights the urge to squeeze his eyes closed, gripping harshly to Jimin's soft hips. 
"Yoo—" Jimin sighs, bowing his back. "Yoongi. Please, Yoongi."
Pleasure courses through Yoongi, flowing like lava in his bloodstream. He keeps his pace steady, holding back from slamming too fast or too deep. Cum and lube squelch around his cock, and the thought of watching it drip from Jimin's used, puffy hole is just the push he needs to reach orgasm. 
"Fuck, Jiminah," Yoongi groans, dragging blunt fingernails in streaks along Jimin's sides. "I'm—ahh, fuck!"
Yoongi's body tenses and releases in waves of pleasure – white-hot and overwhelming. He quakes as he spurts his cum into Jimin's begging, fluttering hole, babbling nonsense, attempting to praise, failing around each syllable. Jimin sobs and squeezes, trying but failing to reach for Yoongi. 
With a chuckle, Yoongi leans forward, hands slipping and crashing into the mattress, dripping sweat from his forehead to Jimin's chest. Now that he is within reach, Jimin reaches and clings, grabbing Yoongi's shoulders and yanking down until Yoongi gives in and falls forward. Pleasure continues to tremble through him – chest heaving and jumpy as he does his best to settle and relax. 
"Holy shit," he mutters into Jimin's clavicle, covering his face in sweat. "That was—"
"Amazing," Jimin coos. 
Yoongi smiles and nods, kissing anywhere his lips reach in slow movements. "Amazing."
Where they lay in the center of the bed, Yoongi is unable to stretch his legs far before hitting the headboard, so they stay in a ball while he catches his breath and litters Jimin's shoulder, neck, and chin with affection. It takes time, but Jimin begins to come back to earth, clinging a little more purposefully. 
"You made me messy," he mutters with more clarity than Yoongi has heard for a while. 
"Lemme see," Yoongi says as he sits up, groaning from his soft cock sliding from where it was nestled nice and warm. 
Jimin groans shyly, covering his face with his hands as Yoongi sits up and lifts his spread legs. He puts up a tiny amount of resistance, but Yoongi holds firmly, nibbling his lip, trusting Jimin to use his safe word if he really does not want to be teased. 
Dropping a leg to the side, Yoongi uses his thumb to press pearly liquid back into Jimin's puckered hole, grinning like an idiot when Jimin whimpers, legs shaking. 
"Messy baby," Yoongi teases, earning his arm a light smack from Jimin's foot. 
Yoongi pulls his fingers away and watches as Jimin tenses, causing the cum to dribble back out. He rubs his hands over Jimin's shins and calves, watching as Jimin heavy-blinks at the ceiling. 
"Shower?"
Jimin's gaze finds Yoongi's, and he smiles, then nods. "Carry me?" he asks with a cute bat of his lashes that makes Yoongi's heart go haywire.
And although Yoongi makes a show of rolling his eyes and being indignant, he gets up and stretches, then turns his back to Jimin and taps his shoulder. 
"Get on."
"Ooh, piggyback?" Jimin shouts, and Yoongi turns his head in time to see Jimin sit high on his knees and fling himself over Yoongi's shoulders. 
Yoongi links his arms around sweaty thighs and has to bend and hop a few times to get Jimin in place – a mildly humiliating task while nude – then he is off, kicking discarded clothing items along the way. 
"We should take a bath," Jimin mutters into Yoongi's shoulder. 
Yoongi hums and nods, turning left into the hallway and again into the bathroom. "Anything you want."
Although Yoongi would love to dote on Jimin hand and foot, he is grateful when Jimin slides off his back and begins the bath, finding sweetly-scented bubble products to squeeze into the stream and controlling the temperature. Jimin slides out of the lace garter and mesh stockings, and sinks into the tub when the water is barely a few inches high. Yoongi presses a kiss on his forehead before leaving to fetch a glass of cool water from the kitchen, lingering just a moment to take in the sunflower pan holders and mismatched cooking utensils. 
Yoongi returns with the glass to his lips, taking slow, steady sips and smiling over the rim. 
"Sit up and drink this," he instructs a sleepy Jimin, whose cheeks are pinkened from the warm water. 
Once the bath is full, Yoongi slots himself behind Jimin, fitting perfectly with his legs outstretched. He rubs Jimin's shoulders and litters him with kisses. And when the water cools, he insists they shower off, helping Jimin finger the cum from his ass while licking deep into his mouth. 
"I could get used to this," Jimin groans as Yoongi wraps a towel tightly around his hips and uses another to squeeze the remaining water from his hair. 
"Good," Yoongi responds against his lips, finding it impossible to spend too many minutes without touching and kissing. "Want you to get used to this."
"Stay the night," Jimin whines, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's middle and walking him backward out of the bathroom. 
Yoongi smiles and nips at petal lips. "That was the plan."
"Stay tomorrow night, too," Jimin groans as they hobble out into the hallway, bumping Yoongi's elbow against the doorframe enough to make him hiss. 
"Won't you get tired of me?" Yoongi barely utters slightly pained against Jimin's soft, greedy mouth.
Jimin releases their hug and pulls Yoongi by the hand back to bed. He has a pep in his step as he gathers his phone – shutting off the music, finally – and finds the lube bottle tangled in the blanket. 
"Doubtful," Jimin finally says as he crawls into bed and plops down, yanking Yoongi's hand until he sits and lays beside him. 
"Alright," Yoongi grins, wrapping himself around Jimin and pulling him close, chest to chest, on their sides. His hair is still damp, but he is unconcerned when Jimin beckons so adamantly. With a gentle teasing tone, he says, "I'll cancel all my foreseeable plans and live only to serve you."
Jimin smiles and hums, saying, "Good," into Yoongi's mouth. 
In a tangle of tongues and limbs, Yoongi sighs and sinks, unable to hold back the affection that overflows from him. He thinks he could also get used to this. 
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thank you so much for reading!!! reblogs & comments make the world go 'round!!! and likes are super appreciated too!!!
tags: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @fluffybuns69​ @giriiboyy @mgthecat​ @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki​ 🍓 wanna be tagged in my posts? shoot me a message!!!
Denim & Strawberry is copyright 2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. 
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katsukikitten · 27 days
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Bakugou’s head pounded as he struggled to fit his front door key into the lock, roughly smashing it against the cold metal until it clicked. Practically falling into his house as he strumbled to regain his balance, fuckin’ dunce face and his happy hour strawberry daiquiris. He’d always told him that those drinks were the most lethal, the ones that would really get you in trouble.
He hadn’t planned on going out to celebrate his birthday, perfectly content with spending the evening at home cooking his favourite mapu tofu and watching reruns of the American All Might documentary; but instead he’d found himself at a dingy dive bar surrounded with all his friends who insisted on plying him with drinks. Practically groaning at the puppy dog eyes Kirishima had given him when he’d returned with a tray of shots, “You need to let yourself relax and unwind a little, Bakubro! It’s not good keeping yourself so pent up.”
And perhaps his best friend was right.
Collapsing onto his bed as he attempted to struggle out of his jeans, barely able to unbutton them before giving up with his chest heaving. For fucks sake, the room was spinning. It didn’t help that his cock was stood proudly at half mast, bulging beneath the denim and desperate for some sweet relief. He’d spent the entire day bricked up, and the alcohol had only worsened the sensation.
Bakugou unlocked his cellphone to check for the time, wincing when a bright 1:49AM flashed across the screen. But even more glaringly obviously was the influx of notifications that had caught his eye, a multitude of them replying to a post that in his drunken stupor he hadn’t even realised he had sent.
Replies:
Reply from @kweenkatsuki-fics just head, king?
Reply from @kingkatsuki who knew Dynamight was such a slut?
Reply from @saturnsorbits thought you said you weren’t that desperate, huh?
Reply from @bakugotrashpanda video attached, hit me up
Reply from @strafepanzer anyone will do huh?
Reply from @katsukikitten picture attached, location shared, cum here
A Bakugou Birthday Bash Collab!!!!! A mix of smut and crack fics we've whipped up and hope you enjoy! Please be sure to check back for the fics on the mentioned blogs! Fics will be posted around Bakugou's birthday! 420 blaze it 🍃
Intro written by @kingkatsuki
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slytherinshua · 3 months
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SEA BREEZE KISSES
genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. not proofread so sorry if there are mistakes specifically in tense cause i usually don't write in present tense rip. pairing. wonbin x fem!reader. wc. 757. request. no. a/n. it's taken me this long to write for wonbin which is low-key embarrassing BUT WE'RE HERE FINALLY ‼️ also watermelon by lucy is so perfect for this fic just saying <3
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The fabric of the vintage denim feels rough under your fingertips— your thumbs tucked securely in the belt loops of your boyfriend’s jeans as you hold onto his waist tightly, making sure there was no chance you could fall as he pedals along the oceanside road. The wind from the coastal sea breeze sends the subtle notes of his cologne to your nose, and you relax your cheek onto his back, completely at ease.
You almost feel as if this moment couldn’t get any more perfect. You have absolutely everything you could ever ask for. Your boyfriend who you haven’t seen in almost 5 months, your favourite sundress perfectly tailored to show off your best features, the most perfect weather imaginable and the deserted beach just for the two of you. You wish everyday could be as serene as this.
Wonbin taps the brakes on the bicycle gently, slowing to a stop as he reaches the pathway down to the beach. You get off first, exchanging giddy laughter and a knowing look with him before you take off running to the shore. 
“Y/n!! It’s not fair! You got a head start!” His shouts reach your ears along with the relaxing sound of the lapping waves, but you don’t bother turning around to see him struggle to catch up to you. You know he’s faster than you anyway. Within a couple seconds, he collides with your body in a back hug as both your feet finally reach the shoreline. 
You both laugh, holding onto each other’s arms as if either one would float away if you weren’t stuck together the entire time. The water feels cool against your bare legs, but you quickly realize that the bottom centimetres of Wonbin’s jeans have gotten soaked.
“These are nice jeans, baby! Don’t ruin them.” You crouch down, not minding if the hem of your dress got a little wet. You carefully roll up the bottom of the pant legs until they hit a bit below his knees. “We’ll probably get completely soaked anyway but-”
Before you can even finish your sentence, a squeal escapes your lips as Wonbin lifts you up in his arms without warning. He laughs at you, his eyes forming small crescent moons as he spins you around before placing you back down on your feet. Your lips collide next, the sweet strawberry lip gloss you always wear transferring onto Wonbin’s lips. He doesn’t bother to wipe it off once he pulls away, but instead swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, tasting the sticky gloss.
“New flavour?” He laughs, his hands holding your waist close to him.
“It’s been 5 months. They don’t last forever.” You smile, running your hands through the long locks of his dark hair. It’s significantly longer than the last time you saw him. Before, you couldn’t think that you could ever love how Wonbin looks more, but now you see that you’re proven wrong, once again. The long wolf cut frames his face perfectly, and you quickly get addicted to the soft feeling of the strands between your fingers.
“You mean you were wearing your lip gloss without me there to kiss it off?” He teases, tilting his head to the side. You can only nod, playing along with the lighthearted mood.
“I won’t do it again, sir.” You fake salute in response which only makes Wonbin laugh louder and clutch onto your waist tighter. But his touch is always gentle, just like he is. He’s so full of love for you that it’s infectious, and you can practically feel your heart swelling in your chest.
“I love you.” You mumble once your boyfriend’s giggles died down a little. You want to save the moment in your memory forever. The way his lips curve up into the cutest of smiles and his hand squeezes your hip gently with love. The waves rushing over your ankles and the smell of fresh sea air only add to the moment. 
He whispers it back to you and captures your lips with his again— this kiss lasting longer than the first one. It’s filled with unmeasurable passion and uncountable promises, and even though it’s silent, you can tell exactly what he wants to convey to you through it. You respond in just the same way, pulling him closer to you and melting completely in the feeling of his soft lips on yours.
Wonbin proves to you, as he always does, that every moment can become just a little more perfect than it already is.
↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cosmicwintr,, @chiiyuuvv,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo
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carlossainzwho · 8 months
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do you get deja vu?
yep, it's part two time!
pairing/s: carlos sainz x ex!reader
warnings - swearing, not proof-read (sorry to my english teachers) and sexual references. (i sound like netflix help)
note - i'm really sorry you've had to wait so long for a fic!! this is part two, you can read part 1 for a little more background before reading this one. i really hope you enjoy! please reblog/like for support, it really makes me smile!!
car rides to malibu strawberry ice cream one spoon for two and trading jackets laughing 'bout how small it looks on you (ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha)
long long car journeys with carlos were the best, blasting out billie joe and queen all day, all night.
going to the same ice cream shop in mallorca
to get the classic ice cream
strawberry
with chocolate sauce
stuffing it all in carlos' face
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
feeling cold
wind blowing
exchanging your denim jacket for carlos' much thicker one
he looked funny
and handsome
and
he was hers, she was his
oh, ain't it funny
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
watching reruns of glee being annoying singing in harmony i bet she's bragging to all her friends, saying you're so unique, hmm
glee
making fun of his name
carlos science, carlos heinz tomato ketchup
singing 'smooth operator' till your throat hurt
but now rebecca's the one doing it with him
tight black dresses
at clubs
getting drunk
leads to
making out
leads to
the bed
So when you gonna tell her That we did that, too? She thinks it's special But it's all reused That was our place, I found it first I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you Do you get déjà vu when she's with you? Do you get déjà vu? (Ah), hmm Do you get déjà vu, huh?
no amount of
kissing her
hugging her
fucking her
could change how he felt in his head
he knew
carlos knew
he did all that with y/n
with rebecca snoring by his side
he knew that the jackets
the singing
glee
he did it all before
with
someone
else
Do you call her Almost say my name? 'Cause let's be honest We kinda do sound the same Another actress I hate to think that I was just your type
rebecca, y/n
rebecca.
y/n.
they both had kind of similar accents
search her up
rebecca donaldson: model, actress and carlos sainz's new girlfriend!
y/n was nothing
she meant nothing to carlos
I'll bet that she knows Billy Joel 'Cause you played her "Uptown Girl" You're singing it together Now I bet you even tell her How you love her In between the chorus and the verse
how many more times should she say
how much she missed him?
through the singing
crying
laughing
he was there by her side
but now y/n knew
that carlos was singing and crying and laughing with someone else
Strawberry ice cream in Malibu Don't act like we didn't do that shit, too You're trading jackets like we used to do (Yeah, everything is all reused) Play her piano, but she doesn't know (oh, oh) That I was the one who taught you Billy Joel (oh) A different girl now, but there's nothing new
y/n drove past mallorca
past the same ice-cream shop
that sold the strawberry ice-cream
the wind blowing
clutching onto her denim jacket
the one that would never fit carlos
now he's doing all that with someone else
but she doesn't know
that
it was all y/n
and now
he probably seemed funny
and handsome
not long ago
he was hers
she was his
but not anymore
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
taglist: @styles-sunflower @marsinout @queers-of-marybelltownship @alonsogirlie @hoeforevery1 @charlosgoggles @albonsluvr
hope you loved it! so sorry it took long :(
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saintwrld · 1 year
Text
MONEY AND LOVE 2
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pairing: shuri x black fem!reader
summary: in which you and Shuri share a mutual interest between money and love
warnings: slight teasing, t’challa’s here 🥳
translations: sisi omncinci - little sister.
word count: 4.3k (half the size of the first one…)
saints's notes: welcome to saint records! i truly hope you enjoy this one. by FAR one of my fav fics i’ve written. sorrows, sorrows, prayers for taking so long with this one, i was just simpin over a bunch of men (still am) but you know i had to write for bae!
love y’all deep!
taglist: @taiiunknown, @playgurlxoxo, @abenomeiiii, @pinkwright, @verachii , @vampzxi , @izrinmabel1 , @marsology , @inmyheadimobsessed , @heejayy , @venusdusse , @oceean .
money and love pt.1
-
The silence of the store was slowly killing Justine and Leilani as they sat in the comfortable burgundy chairs. Patiently waiting for their friend, they drank the complimentary flutes of strawberry champagne.
"Why the fuck is it so quiet in here? Don't they got some quiet background music or sumn?" Leilani complained and slouched on the chair, hoping for you to come back quickly.
"Already felt some old geezer staring at me when we walked in like do i not look lesbian enough?" Justine expressed and looked at Leilani for an answer to which Lani just shook her head. "I don't?" Justine stressed, taking out her compact mirror from one of her pockets on her denim jacket.
Before Leilani could comment, she heard your voice as you walked closer and closer to where they were sitting. You walked in the room first with the sales associate trailing right behind you, holding two large orange boxes.
"Sorry I took so long guys, the Kelly's were a bit further and your custom scarves were sealed." You smiled at your friends, clasping your hands together, your Patek shining as the sun hit the diamonds.
Leilani stood up to hug you tightly and immediately walked to the sales associate, eagerly waiting for him to open the boxes already. You returned the hug and took a seat next to Justine who immediately held your hand as you sat, squeezing it as a sign that she was grateful. A little code you three made when you were flying into France two days ago.
"Okay ladies. I must admit, I am incredibly excited to reveal your Kellys for you. We'll start with Justine." He smiled at your best friend, putting special gloves on to touch the large box. He took the lid of the box and put it to the side, revealing the famous Hermés logo on the dust bag. He gently opened the dust bag to take out Justine's custom Kelly bag. The silver hardware on the bag had contrasted beautifully with the lilac colour, her name embroidered in the bottom corner of the bag.
Leilani's Kelly was slightly bigger than Justine's however hers had little flowers painted along the bottom, with the bag being the most beautiful shade of blue. Both girls had tears in their eyes as they held their bags, immediately tackling you into a group hug. "As long as you guys are happy, then I am as well."
Leaving the large boutique, you could feel the Dora Milaje's eyes on you three, keeping a close eye on you per Shuri's request. You see, the princess never hid her fondness for you from anyone really. The only one who had no clue what was going on was her older brother, T'Challa.
Reaching the Maybach SUV, you placed the bags in the trunk along with the other luxury bags that had filled the car as the day went by. As you entered the driver's seat, your best friends took their seats. You started the car and you drove to the last of your appointments in luxurious stores, Cartier.
You had planned this specific activity for the three of you very thoroughly as it's usually quite difficult to get appointments with this specific brand but because you are closely connected with Shuri, it was the easiest process. You were getting matching love bracelets with Justine and Leilani with a few customisations and although you already had quite the stack of these bracelets, one more couldn't hurt, right?
Admiring your pricey friendship bracelet, you had waited for your friends in their lounge already cozied up as you had paid before even boarding the private flight to France. It was quite a warm Saturday in Paris, the streets bustling with people walking everywhere. You just wanted to get back to the hotel to at least get a chance to call Shuri. She had excused herself earlier in the day to report to her country's needs and you knew that the time difference would be weird but you just wanted to check in on her.
"Miss Y/N." You were pulled out of your thoughts by Tobi, one of the Dora that was assigned to you. You hummed in response as you looked at her then your friends who were looking around the shop. "The Black Panther would like to inform you that she is okay and will be in contact with you soon." She reported. "Okay, thank you Tobi. Would you like anything here?" You asked and the shock on her face was prevalent, causing you to smile.
"O-oh no Miss, I cannot accept that." She replied and you shook your head, standing up. "I'm ordering you to choose something for yourself and please let the other Dora know. We won't leave until you all have something." You expressed, the smile on your face never leaving. Tobi hesitantly walked away to tell the others who had to come to you for confirmation of your choice. After 30 minutes, everyone walked out of Cartier and all drove to the hotel, exhausted yet delighted with today's activities.
Seeing as you shared the large penthouse on the top floor with Leilani and Justine, all three of you entered the penthouse elevator carrying all your shopping bags and immediately sighing the second the elevator doors closed. "Gahdamn, I haven't had such a workout since that Drake concert last month." Leilani breathed out as she placed the bags on the floor and held her hips.
"You mean the concert or Aubrey himself?" You teased, earning a little push on your arm as you and Justine burst out laughing. "Man, it ain't even like that." Leilani kissed her teeth. "Girl, we all know that man want you. No man just buys a Porsche for a little crush." Justine snickered. Leilani glared at the both of you before smiling a little. "Yeah but I signed up to be in my whorish era and plus he weird as hell."
"You are right about that one but does he know that you're not interested?" You questioned, noticing how slow this elevator was. "I told him but- oh my god, he's gonna write a song about me." Leilani slapped her hand over her mouth and looked visibly stressed. "I don't need bad blood with 21 Savage." She sulked and you both couldn't help but laugh.
The elevator door eventually opened and you were met with a beautiful surprise. Bouquets of white roses were lined up alongside a few candles. You stepped out first, absolutely mesmerised by the sight before you. Justine was about to step out too but Leilani pulled her back into the elevator. "Y/n! We'll be downstairs to check out a few cafés, you have fun now!" She called out to you as she repeatedly pressed the closing button until it finally shut, giving you your privacy.
Taking off your heeled boots, you walked through the penthouse, leaving your shopping bags in the foyer. You couldn't hear anything besides the streets of Paris below. Walking into the living area, you noticed the chocolate cupcakes on the coffee table. With that being your favourite dessert, you immediately reached for one however you felt a sharp tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you tried not to scream but you quickly realised that the stranger was Shuri in her Panther suit that you've never seen her in.
“Oh..my..god.” The only words that could come out spewed out of your mouth as you admired the suit that you had thought was a myth a few months back. The sun reflected on the gold and silver accents of the suit with you desperately wanting to reach your manicured hands onto it. Slowly looking at her face, you saw the shit-eating grin she had displayed on her lips as she watched you gawk over her. She absolutely loved seeing your reaction to the suit, wishing she could’ve recorded it.
“Hello my love.” Shuri rasped out, staring into your eyes as her finger hooked under your chin, her signature scent flooded your nose as she stood ever so close to you. Trying to find the words to say to to the Panther was hard, with you eventually deciding to give your lazy smile, one similar to the type of smile you’d give her after hours of pleasure.
“Hi Shuri.” You managed to get out as you felt her suit-clad arms wrap around your waist, her hands deciding to rest on your lower back, giving you shivers when she let one hand fall down to your ass. “Tell me about your day. I heard you were quite the gift giver.” She smirked as her hand kept rubbing the same spot on your side where you had a surprise for the royal.
“It was a cute day. Finally picked up the bags for the girls and just decided to spoil them today because they deserve it. With the Dora, I wanted everyone to leave Cartier with something so..” you answered, watching her react with an impressed smile on her face, making you feel like you accomplished something that she would be proud of you.
“And did you get yourself something, entle?” She questioned, letting go of your body as she turned to the couches in the living area to take a seat then patting her thigh, making you internally squeal at the thought of you sitting on her lap once again. Ever since that wonderful night, all you ever wanted to do was to recreate that moment but you were way too scared to initiate anything of that sort.
Walking over to her and straddling her as she relaxed her head on the couch as she watched you settle on her lap. “Well, I did get myself something for my graduation soon and a few clothes for that surprise you were talking about.” You replied, playing with your nails, avoiding her eyes completely. “I’m so proud of you, sthandwa. I’m glad that I’m by your side.�� She expressed all while slowly sliding her hands on your thighs as she listened to you speak. Shuri absolutely loved these little moments of intimacy between the two of you, be it sexual or non sexual. She had said that she would give you the world and she’s working on making sure you see the appreciation she has for you.
She would pay millions to see your smile every day as the sun would shine on your beautiful brown skin.
-
Laying your head on her lap as she gently stroked your arm, you were completely unaware of where you were travelling to as you slept peacefully from the moment the Royal Talon Fighter took off from the rooftop of the Wakandan Social Centre in California after you dropped off Leilani and Justine, specifically at Drake’s house but that’s a story for another day.
Several minutes later, you felt a hand shake you a little as you stirred out of your sleep, not feeling the aircraft moving anymore. You opened your eyes to the interior of the aircraft, seeing a few of the Dora’s hastily walking out while a few stayed inside waiting for you to exit. You sat up to see Shuri staring at you with a smile on her face and she reached for your hand as she stood up before you. You quickly fixed your Fendi bucket hat along with the wig underneath it before taking her soft hand and standing, holding your phone in the other hand.
Walking down the ship slope, you couldn’t stop your eyes from looking everywhere. Breathing in the extremely clean air, you looked at the different Dora’s who were amused by your widened eyes taking in the space before you. Looking forward, you saw Okoye and Ayo standing at the end of the slope, looking ever so powerful. Beyond them, you saw figures standing in front of this grand building that you had yet to recognise.
Shuri had greeted Okoye and Ayo, along with Aneka who was excited to the young royal after Shuri had said that she has a surprise) and seeing the Dora’s that Shuri had been speaking very fondly about had heightened your anxiety. The three women turned to you with warm smiles on their faces as they observed you standing next to Shuri, sensing your anxiety.
“Hello Miss Y/n. Welcome to Wakanda.” Okoye had greeted and her words had made you stomach drop in excitement. Turning to Shuri with your hand covering your mouth from shock, she chuckled at you before placing her arm around you to bring you closer to her body. “O-oh u-uh um, hello. Um, your country is spectacular.” You managed to stutter out to the women in front of you. All they did was nod their heads with the smae warm smiles they greeted you with.
“Come, I have people I want you to meet.” Shuri leaned down to whisper in your ear as she still kept her arm around your waist as she guided you towards the entrance of the palace.
“And so I see my little sister all happy outside the lab. Bast, if only we knew it would take a beautiful soul next to her to drag her out.” A voice boomed out, heavy footsteps making their way towards the both of you before stopping in front of Shuri. Lifting your head up, you were met with the sight of T’Challa, smiling ever so brightly at the arrival of his younger sister and her guest. The siblings did their handshake, ending with the ‘Wakanda Forever’ gesture.
He then turned to you and you could swear that your soul had left your body for a quick second. You mustered your best smile and held your hand out to which he ignored it and rather open his arms for a hug. Taken aback, you hesitantly walked into the hug, immediately feeling comfortable the moment he reciprocated the hug. After letting go, you stepped back into Shuri’s space who was now behind. Ready to introduce yourself, Shuri decided to do it for you instead whilst placing her hands on your waist. “Brother, I’d like you to meet Y/n Y/l/n. She’s my person.” She smiled, watching her brother take in the information that his sister blessed him with.
Letting the smile take over your face, you were thankful to Shuri for clarifying to her brother your current relationship status with his sister however you weren’t even sure what exactly you were with Shuri as the two of you had gone past the sugar baby/sugar daddy (mommy) stage when you two had met. You weren’t sure what these feelings for Shuri were but they felt good.
“Well, I am T’Challa. It is a great pleasure to meet the person that has stolen my sister’s attention. And this,” he gestured behind him a stunning woman, who walked over to greet Shuri with a hug. “Sisi omncinci” the woman had said as she let go of Shuri and made her way to you. “This is my person, Nakia.” He finished, looking ever so fondly at the woman. “Hello, my name is Nakia and might I say, you are absolutely stunning.” She expressed as she held your hands in hers. The smile never leaving your face, you introduced yourself to her as she studied your face.
“Not to interrupt this adorable moment-” “That’s exactly what you’re doing, brother.” Shuri rolled her eyes with a smile when her brother sent her a look. “Anyway, Y/n. If you don’t mind me asking, is that the Rolex Oyster Perpetual? With diamonds?” T’Challa asked as he studied your hand, admiring your watch.
Looking down at your wrist at the pink watch that Shuri had given you as a gift when you complained about your studies to her, you nodded. “Oh yes it is! Shuri had them put on.” You smiled at him, seeing his face that held impression. “And might I ask if that is the Tiffany Dial addition?” You questioned, excitedly looking at his wrist as you finally were talking to someone about your love of watches.
Both Nakia and Shuri stood back as they watched their people fangirl over each other’s watches, discussing other watches. “I think your brother has made a best friend.” Nakia commented with a chuckle.
-
Walking into Shuri’s large bedroom within the palace, you slowly walked towards the bed, plopping down with exhaustion as she walked in behind you and locking the door. You were too exhausted to even marvel at the intricate details of her grand bedroom, just wanting to get in the bed with her and rest after today’s activities. After lunch with T’Challa and Nakia, Shuri had taken you to the infamous lab, excitedly showing off the place then going into the lively streets of the Golden City which had a street festival in honour of Shuri returning after a while out of Wakanda. Dancing the night away, you both came back into the palace with heavy eyelids.
She sat next to you and placed her hand onto your thigh, rubbing it ever so slightly. With your breathing slightly harbouring from her touch, you could feel your arousal slowly peaking in. She watched as your chest heave up and down and decided to rub her hand a little higher, seeing the reaction on your face. Opening your eyes, you saw her eyes lowering as she took in your body. It had changed the more you spent time in Pilates and from a special thing she would use on you from time to time.
She leaned down to your face, placing a few pecks onto your lips with you chasing her lips after the last kiss but you knew you were too exhausted. Shuri slightly tapped your face with her fingers, waking you up as she could see that you were slipping into sleep. “Come on baby, we need to go change so that we can sleep.” Shuri trailed off, feeling exhaustion take over her body as well.
After a much needed shower, you were both in your sleeping garments, with yours being a large t shirt and cotton shorts with her being boxers and a simple white tank top. Out of nowhere, you suddenly remembered the surprise you had for her. You were certain she hadn’t seen it in the shower so you were excited to show her. “Shuri?” You whispered out to her. She hummed in response as she was getting the bed ready for you two.
“S-so, I did something and I hope you like it as much as I do.” You softly smiled as you lifted up the large shirt to just under your neck, showing her your back. Her eyes went wide and she practically ran to your side to look closer, your giggles filling the room.
You had gotten your first ever tattoo two weeks ago and it looked healed even though you knew it was far from it as it was such a big tattoo. It stretched from just underneath your neck to the end of your lower back and of course it was painful but it’s something you’ve wanted for a while. You see, Shuri hasn’t seen it because the both of you had been busy, you battling your final exams before graduation and her with her Panther duties.
Shuri gawked over it for a while and asked multiple questions as if she hadn’t had her few scattered across her body. “It’s so beautiful, my love.” She commented. Shuri had also wanted to talk about something else and you could see that it had been troubling her the whole day. “Shuri. What’s wrong? Have you been worried the whole day?” You wondered, putting your shirt down and led her to the bed to sit next to her but she put you on her lap once again.
“The introduction I gave to my brother about you. I’ve been thinking about it.” She expressed and you could see the emotion swarming through her eyes. “Oh.” You said. Now that you thought about it, you’ve thought of what title you wanted to give Shuri but could never figure out how to tell her.
“U-um,” you started. “I’d like to say my feelings now because I’ve also been thinking about it as well.” You said and she nodded, wanting you to continue. “Obviously you know that I’ve never been experienced in anything romantic my whole life so you know that I’m new to these sort of conversations. But u-um,” you took a deep breath before continuing. “I like you beyond the agreement and I can’t figure out these emotions that you give to me. It’s a warmth I feel everytime I’m around you and it makes me feel..happy. You’ve treated me so amazing that I think, no, I know I’ve fallen for you.” You finished, absolutely terrified for her next words but glad that you were able to express them to her.
Her hand lifted up to stroke your cheek as she searched your eyes. “My pretty y/n.” She said, making you giggle at the nickname. “I want to wake up next to you and watch as the Wakandan sunrise reflects in your eyes every day. You..you make me extremely happy so would you please do me the honour of being my girl?” She said, holding you so close to her as if you were the most precious cargo to her, to which you were to her.
You nodded, feeling the warmth spread through your body once again. You threw your arms around her neck as she held you for what felt like forever. You slowly let go and held her shoulders for support. “My girlfriend.” She whispered as you leaned in to kiss her once again, only letting go to take breaths before diving into each other’s spaces.
The Wakandan stars shone on the both of you throughout the night as Shuri had wanted to show you that you were her girl and that she was your girl.
-
-
“Miss Y/n Y/l/n, Bachelor of Science with an achievement of a Cum Laude on The Dean’s List.” Professor Danbury called out your name from the podium. You walked onto the stage, carefully walking in your heels while doing your little celebratory dance whilst walking past other professors along with the Dean, giving you the biggest smile and a hug as she handed you the certificate and other documents. The cheers from the crowd had brought a smile onto your face, the loudest coming from Justine, Leilani, T’Challa, M’baku and Shuri. The Dora had called out their celebratory chant for the duration of you on the University stage.
“Once again, congratulations to the class of 2024!” The Dean had cheered, you and the rest of the students from your year had stood up and threw the graduation caps up in the year. After congratulating your college friends once again, you made your way outside where you were greeted with your new found family with Wakanda. You knew that your parents knew of your graduation but they had made no effort which never hurt your feelings so you were more than happy with your life.
Leilani had been the first one to run towards you, giving you a bone crushing hug while crying. “Oh my god! My baby graduated!” She exclaimed. The rest of the crew came to congratulate you, definitely putting attention on all of you as the royal family of Wakanda was there. Shuri had been the last of everyone to come up to you. Cupping your cheeks, she planted a kiss before hugging you and spinning you around.
“Congratulations, my love. I’m so proud of you.” She smiled, kissing you once again. You thanked her and spent time with the crew before Shuri remembered that she had a surprise for you (well more like the surprise texted her). “Oh! Entle, come with me. I have a surprise for you.” She said as she stood up from the benches the crew found on the campus gardens. Everyone followed you as you held Shuri’s hand and walked towards the large parking lot. She had stopped you before walking towards your Rolls Royce.
Looking behind you, all you heard were giggles from your friends and the crew taking out their phones to film your reactions. Along with other people that wanted to see what was happening.
“Shuri, what did you do?” You questioned, worried about the amount of eyes looking at you and your girlfriend. “So,” she started, chuckling ever so lightly. “Last week, you were eagerly talking about something and I knew it would make you happy.” She smirked at the confusion displayed on your face.
Before you could respond, you saw a light blue Ferrari SF90 drive in with a large red bow on top of the hood of the car. You squeezed Shuri’s hand as your dream car drove towards you. Looking at her, the smirk never left her face. “Oh my god! Shuri! You didn’t-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as the car parked and your celebrity crush and favourite formula 1 driver came out of the driver’s side with a large smile on his face.
“Is that fucking Lewis Hamilton?!”
-
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bookshelf-dust · 1 year
Note
Hi ;) I'm sorry it's me again 😅😭I've been having an overabundance of fic ideas lately... So... What about reader doing something super nice and cute for Billy's birthday ? He isn't used to it, his family has never remembered his birth date, let alone celebrated his birthday, so when he sees that reader actually remembers his birthday and does something very meaningful to celebrate it, he just ends up crying because of how beautiful the present it : I don't know what the present could be though, like maybe she sings him a song that she wrote for him ? Which is surprising since she has social anxiety which shows how much effort she put into making this day memorable for him. Really choose whatever you think it's best. Thank you !!!
billy vs. the grinch
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billy hargrove x fem!byers!reader
word count: 1,084
warnings: swearing, fluff
a/n: hi, my love! please don’t be sorry! i appreciate you trusting me with your ideas. this is really sweet. i hope that you enjoy what i came up with and that it’s what you wanted. <333
————
Billy’s fingers are gripping your belt loops so hard you’re afraid the denim might rip. You push open the front door, the wood cold on your fingertips.
Billy’s been on the verge of tears since seven forty-five this morning, when you hopped down your front step and launched yourself into his arms. “Happy birthday, gorgeous,” you’d said.
He’d only told you his birthday once, right after you met. That you remembered it was making his heart grow, what was it, three sizes? Isn’t that what the Grinch said?
Fuck, it didn’t matter. What did matter was that you were taking him home where he’d get to spend time with the only people he’d felt loved by.
Billy stays behind you after you’re inside like he’s never been here before.
“Is that my birthday boy?” Joyce’s voice carries to the both of you from the kitchen. You keep moving, pulling him along since he refuses to let you go.
Your mother has flour in her hair, and she’s wearing an apron with ladybugs on it. You’re pretty sure Will picked it out for her at some point.
When she sees him, she claps her hands excitedly, smiling brilliantly. She looks so young.
“Hi, Billy! Happy birthday, sweetie.”
She pulls him in for a hug, which he accepts. Joyce Byers has this thing with her hugs. They make everything feel like it’s going to be okay.
“Thank you,” Billy mumbles. You run a hand up the curve of his spine as if to say, It’s okay. You’re not bothering anyone. This is happening because we love you.
When she lets Billy go, Joyce kisses the crown of your head. “Hey, baby. Jonathan picked up pizza. I figured that would be okay?”
You assure her that it is.
Will and Max enter the kitchen from where they’d been in Will’s room. They’d biked home today so that you could spend some time with Billy.
“Happy birthday,” Will says. “You know you can buy lottery tickets now?”
Max snorts. “He wouldn’t have the money for them. He spends it all on cigarettes.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me today or something?” He asks her.
“I was going to give you a hug,” she tells him. “Unless you’re immune to that sort of thing.”
You take Will’s hand, walking over to look at what your mother has been up to, just long enough to give them a minute. Their relationship has improved exponentially in recent months. It’s nice to see them finally have each other to rely on.
On the counter sits a cake in a glass pan. It’s strawberry flavored, which you can see from the pink tinge it has, and there’s chocolate frosting smeared over the top of it.
Happy Birthday, Billy is written in a sloppy scrawl across the top, two big number candles sitting above his name. 18.
Later, after the six of you have demolished it, Billy tells Joyce that it’s the best damn cake he’s ever had, and that she’s not allowed to fight him on it. She obliges.
Billy told Will and Max to pick out a movie because it would stress him out too much. They did, and you all sit around the living room, devouring that too.
Billy thinks about how he’s never felt safer. He enjoys just sitting in this room with these people who he knows care about him, even if it isn’t exactly the group anyone expected him to end up hanging around.
When the movie’s over, you lead Billy down the hall and into your bedroom. “Sit, pretty please. I have a present for you.”
“I told you not to get me anything,” he says.
You tap his knee. “Since when have I ever listened to what you tell me to do?”
Billy chuckles and it makes you smile. You place a manila envelope in his lap.
“Sorry. Didn’t really have anything to put it in.”
“I don’t give a shit about how you wrapped it, baby.” You feel yourself go warm. It doesn’t matter how many times he calls you that—it always has the same effect.
“Open it.”
You sit down on the floor in front of him, the carpet squishing under your legs. You prop your head up, settling your arms on his knees and under your chin.
You watch as he pulls a sheet of thick paper out of the envelope.
Billy’s eyes widen just slightly and his breath hitches.
“Baby.”
It’s a drawing of the Camaro.
You sit up a little more so you can point the specifics out to him.
“I borrowed Jonathan’s camera to take a picture of it one day a couple weeks ago. And I dug out my best paper too.”
You run a finger along the lingering pencil marks. “I tried my best with the blue. I don’t exactly have the most extensive colored pencil collection in the world, and I’d already gone through mine and Will’s, so it’s not perfect, but. It’s still pretty blue.”
First you sketched the drawing, as best as you could, and then you colored it just the same. You used a thin pen to outline it when you finished. It’s simple, but you’re happy with it.
Billy runs his thumb over where you left your signature by the back tire. When he looks up at you his eyes are glossy.
“You drew this whole thing just for me?”
“‘Course I did, Billy.” You wipe away the tear that’s just managed to slip out. “I love you and stuff.”
He tosses his head back, laughing. You kiss his cheek, over a patch of freckles, and he blushes.
“You like it?” You ask.
He sets it down beside him. “Are you kidding? I fuckin’ love it. Thank you, sweetheart.”
Billy is even more touched when he thinks about how it’s not often that you draw. You love to do it, but it’s not something you think you’re that great at. He disagrees by a long shot. So the fact that you took the time to do this means the world.
When he hugs you, he tries to put all of this feeling into it, and you make sure to rub up and down his back as a reminder that it’s okay for him to be emotional about this. You’re sure he wants to fight it.
“I love you too, by the way,” he says into your hair.
You pull back and kiss him. He tastes like chocolate.
“Happy birthday, pretty boy.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
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geekfanficwriter · 1 year
Text
Ahoy, Sailors- Steve Harrington x Metalhead!Reader
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Summary: You meet Steve while he’s working at Scoops Ahoy and even though you’re different from any girl he’s ever met before, he can’t help but be interested in you. Words: 2.3k Warnings: None, I think
Author’s Note: This is (hopefully) going to be the start of a collection of Steve x Metalhead!Reader stories so if you have any requests for Steve x Metalhead!Reader fics send them in!
‘You can have one scoop.’ You tell your little sister as you join the line at the ice cream shop in the mall.
‘Two.’ She argued back.
‘One, otherwise you won’t eat your dinner and mom’ll kill me.’
‘Fine,’ She pouts as you sigh, ‘can I get a chocolate-dipped cone?’
‘Yeah, I guess but don’t tell mom or I won’t take you to the mall ever again.’ You ruffle her hair as she nods and zips her lips, making you laugh. You turn back to the line in front of you, waiting for your turn to order. You looked behind the counter and were shocked to see Steve Harrington working there. You had both graduated this year and you’d known him as a rich douche so to see him working a normal job was surprising.
‘Ahoy, ladies. What can I get you?’ He greets you as you step up to the counter. Steve definitely recognised you from school. You weren’t someone he ever interacted with but you were someone who didn’t exactly blend in. With your piercings and tattoos, and ‘fuck you’ attitude you were definitely not a forgettable person.
‘I want a chocolate ice cream in a chocolate cone and chocolate sauce.’ Your sister says before you even have a chance to speak.
‘One scoop or two?’ Steve asks, smiling down at her.
‘Two!’ She yells.
‘No, one. I told you, you can’t have two.’ She huffs at your words crossing her arms, as Steve laughs. He heads over to the ice cream freezer and scoops a scoop for your sister, handing it over to her after putting the chocolate sauce on top.
‘Go sit down at a table and take these.’ You say pulling some napkins out of the holder and handing them to her. She happily skips over to an empty table as you turn back to Steve.
‘You got a bag back there for when she vomits in my car? Especially as I noticed that was two scoops.’ You joke.
‘No bag, unfortunately, but can I get you anything?’
‘Just one scoop of strawberry in a tub.’ You tell him and he nods, heading back over to the freezer.
‘So what are your plans now that you’ve graduated?’ Steve asks you, as he scoops the ice cream.
‘Oh just taking some time off to figure stuff out and earn some money.’ You shrug as he hands over the ice cream. ‘What about you?’
‘Yeah same, trying to branch out on my own, way from my parents.’ Steve told you, not mentioning that his dad had cut him off. He hands you over the tub and you thank him.
‘So did those hurt?’ Steve asked indicating at the piercings on your face.
‘Did the needle going through my skin hurt? Yeah, it was pretty painful.’ You frown at him, and he feels himself flush at how much of an idiot he feels like.
‘Right, yeah obviously. Umm, your total is $4 and 10 cents.’ He says looking down at the cash register in front of him. You nod and pull your wallet out of your pocket, grabbing out 5 dollars.
‘Nice uniform by the way, really suits you.’ You smile at him.
‘God, don’t even get me started on this uniform, it’s terrible and it covers up my best feature.’ He says pointing to his hair as he hands you back your change.
‘Aww so disappointing that we can’t see your beautiful hair but you look so good, I mean those shorts are great.’ You laugh.
‘You’re judging my outfit when you’re carrying a unicorn bag?’ He jokes back, pointing at the bag you were carrying which you had just bought for your sister.
‘Yeah, I love unicorns and rainbows, I think it really goes well with my outfit.’ You point at your outfit. A Metallica t-shirt with black jeans and big boots alongside a denim vest with a bunch of patches and pins on it.
‘Yeah, the bright colours go well with all the black.’
‘Thanks, I agree.’
‘Hey, can you two stop flirting? Some of us want ice cream.’ A voice says from behind you. Steve looks behind you to see Erica Sinclair standing there with her hands on her hips.
‘I’ll see you later.’ You smile at Steve, picking up your ice cream.
‘Yeah, see you.’ Steve waves as you walk over to the table where your sister is sitting. Steve turns around and opens the hatch to the back room where Robin is sorting stock.
‘Robin, come here.’ He beckons her over and she sighs standing up and walking over to the window.
‘Do you remember that girls name?’ Steve asked pointing over at you. He might remember who you were but he couldn’t remember your name. He was pretty sure it began with an S? Or maybe an L?
‘Why?’ Robin asked, looking confused.
‘Look can you just tell me.’ He says frustrated.
‘Pretty sure it’s Y/N and I’m also pretty sure she’s dating Eddie Munson.’ Robin asks, figuring out why he was asking.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, they hang out all the time.’ She shrugs as Steve sighs, disappointed.
The next time you went into Scoops Ahoy was with Eddie, the two of you had been to see The Stuff and decided to get ice cream afterwards.
‘That movie was terrible.’ Eddie huffs.
‘It wasn’t that bad, I mean a little cheesy but not the worst.’ You shrug.
‘Well, I’m hoping that this ice cream turns us into zombies so I don’t have to think about it again.’ You roll your eyes at him.
‘Shut up.’ You say shoving him forward to the counter.
‘Hey, Steve.’ You smile as you approach the counter, pushing your hair behind your ear. You hear Eddie snort in amusement from beside you and you kick him in the shin.
‘Hey, what can I get for the two of you?’ Steve asks, smiling awkwardly back.
‘What do you want, Eddie?’ You say looking at him.
‘The U.S.S. Butterscotch is really popular for couples who want to share.’ Steve perks up and you give him a look of disgust.
‘You think I’m dating him? Ew.’ You say pointing at Eddie.
‘Hey!’ Eddie yells, offended. ‘After that comment, you’re paying for me to get one of those to eat all by myself.’
‘Whatever.’ You roll your eyes at him. ‘I’ll just have one scoop of strawberry.’
‘Cool, I’ll get both of those for you.’ Steve says. ‘You know, everyone says the two of you are dating.’
‘Yeah but Y/N likes preppy guys.’ Eddie smirks at you as you glare at him.
‘Oh really?’ Steve smirks over at you.
‘Well, I just like good-looking guys.’ You shrug at him.
‘Look likes were in the same boat, well except I like girls, good looking girls.’ You giggle as Steve stumbles over his words. Eddie mumbles something about going to sit down at a table and stalks off.
‘Don’t worry. I get what you mean.’ You smile at him.
‘Good, 'cause I do like girls. Especially ones who like strawberry ice cream.’ He says sliding over the two ice creams.
‘Well, I like guys with good hair, even if it is covered by a hat.’ You flirt back.
‘Yeah, it looks a lot better without the hat.’ Steve says leaning on the counter.
‘I bet it does.’ Steve opens his mouth to say something back but Robin clears her throat, causing him to look away from you.
‘That’ll be $3.80.’
‘How come it’s cheaper than last time?’ You frown at him.
‘Oh, I’ve only charged you for two scoops.’
‘Oh well, thanks.’ You smile at him, handing him over the cash before walking over to where Eddie was sitting.
‘Hi, Steve.’ Eddie mimics your voice, twirling a strand of his hair around his finger.
‘Shut up, you’re a dick.’ You say, pushing the ice cream over to him.
‘So the reason you wanted to get ice cream was so you could flirt with Harrington then?’
‘You suggested getting ice cream.’ You pointed out.
‘Well, still you were just looking for an excuse to flirt with him.’ Eddie jokes.
‘So what if I was?’ You shrug.
‘Wow, I can’t believe you have a crush on Steve Harrington.’ Eddie laughed.
‘God, please don’t.’ You beg him. You knew you were never going to hear the end of this from Eddie.
‘What? It’s sweet, trying to see all cool in front of him.’
‘I’m not trying to be cool in front of him.’
‘Yes, you were. ‘I would never date Eddie, he’s gross not like you Steve.’’ Eddie mimics you again.
‘Maybe if you changed your bedsheets more than once a year, I wouldn’t think you were gross.’
‘Not like there’s anyone else in them so why would I change them?’
‘There might be a reason for that Eddie.’ You point out taking a mouthful of ice cream.
You smile as you see Steve behind the counter. You were hoping he was working today when you came in. You approach the counter and Steve immediately smiles when he sees you.
‘Hey Y/N, you want strawberry?’ He asks leaning on the counter.
‘Umm, actually no. I was wondering if you guys do pints of ice cream?’
‘No, we don’t, sorry.’
‘Damn, it’s for my sister.’
‘Wait, just a moment.’ Steve holds up a finger and runs through to the back. He comes out a few moments later with a freshly washed Tupperware dish in his hands.
‘This work?’ He asks, waving the dish.
‘Yeah, that’s great, thanks so much.’ You say as he starts to fill it up with chocolate ice cream. ‘She’s just had her tonsils out and I promised I’d go get ice cream from the ‘cute sailor boy’. Her words, not mine.’ You smile at him.
‘Hmm, well you should tell her she’s got a really cute sister.’ He hands you over the box. ‘It’s on the house, I mean it’s basically medicine and I can’t charge you for that.’
‘You’ve got to stop giving me free ice cream, otherwise, I’ll be in here every day.’ You tell him.
‘That wouldn’t be a bad thing. Although I’d rather see you-‘
‘Steve!’ A voice interrupts, throwing open the hatch. Steve turns around to see Dustin there. ‘You need to come back in here now.’ He tells Steve.
‘Can it wait a minute? I’m in the middle of a conversation.’ Steve points at you.
‘Oh, hi Y/N.’ Dustin waves.
‘Hey, we’ve got some new DnD books in.’ You wave back.
‘Wait you two know each other?’ Steve looks between the two of you.
‘Yeah, Y/N works at the comic book and games shop in town. Now come back here, it’s about the thing.’ Dustin says putting an emphasis on the word thing and Steve sighs.
‘I’ll talk to you later, yeah?’ Steve turns to face you.
‘Yeah, later.’ You wave as Steve heads into the back.
‘So you ask her out on a date yet, dingus?’ Robin asks as he sits down at the table.
‘I was about to but someone interrupted.’ Steve glares at Dustin.
‘Wait? You like Y/N?’ Dustin says, surprised.
‘Yeah, they flirt every time she comes in, it’s disgusting.’ Robin fake gags.
‘But she’s cool?’ Dustin asks confused.
‘And? Your point?’ Steve says frustrated.
‘Well, you don’t like cool girls.’
‘I do- you know what, just show me what you wanted to show me.’
You hear the bell ring over the door and you look up to see Dustin, Mike and Lucas running in. You wave slightly at the kids, pulling off your headphones, as they head over to the shelf. You see Steve trailing behind them and your face immediately lights up until you see all the bruises and cuts covering your face.
‘Shit are you okay?’ You say concerned as he approaches the counter.
‘Yeah, just… ran into a door.’ He shrugs.
‘Did you run into it 10 times?’
‘Well it was during the fire at the mall so probably did more than that.’ He says like it’s no big deal.
‘Fuck, you were in the fire? You sure you okay?’ You reach over to grab his hand without even thinking about it.
‘Yeah, I’ll be alright.’ He nods.
‘Well, I would help nurse you back to health but you’d probably end up worse off than before.’ You joke, running your thumb along his knuckles.
‘Damn, I would love to see you in a nurse's uniform.’ Steve smiles at you.
‘Sorry to disappoint but hey I’m also disappointed, I’ll never get to see you in that sailor’s uniform again.’
‘Can you two stop?’ Dustin says, placing down a couple of comic books.
‘You know I can just make you walk home?’ Steve glares at him as you ring Dustin up.
‘Please, the only reason you agreed to give us a ride in the first place was cause you were hoping Y/N would be here.’ You blush at Dustin’s words. Did Steve really want to see you?
‘So what if I did?’ Steve shoots back. You laugh and tell Dustin the amount.
‘Whatever. Just ask her on a date already.’ Dustin hands you the money and then walks back over to where the other kids are standing.
‘You wanted to see me then?’ You smile at him.
‘Maybe and maybe I want to see you this Friday?’ Steve asks hopefully.
‘Are you asking me on a date?’ You tease.
‘Yeah, I am.’ He nods, sounding more confident than you’d heard him.
‘I’ll go on a date with you. Here’s my number.’ You say, grabbing his hand and writing your number on the back of it.
‘Great, I’ll call you and we can work out the details.’
‘Oh but I have one condition.’ You say holding up a finger.
‘Yeah, anything.’ Steve feels his heart racing wondering what you were going to ask.
‘You have to wear the sailor’s uniform.’ You laugh.
‘Only if you wear the nurse’s uniform.’
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gyuvision · 5 months
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gyuvision -> riize masterlist
cw ! all work should be nsfw unless stated otherwise
last updated .. january 29
- ot7
love making or quick fuck? <- ask/hard thoughts
letting you know they want you <- ask/hard thoughts
riize as my favorite songs <- ask/angsty(ish) drabble
- osaki shotaro
defense <- fluff, angst, fic
[8:29pm] <- drabble
better for you <- fic (wip)
dancer bf shotaro <- hard thoughts
taro thoughts <- ask/hard thoughts
- song eunseok
intercepted <- fic (wip)
japanese denim <- fluff, drabble
- jung sungchan
white clover <- fic (wip)
luck charm <- fic (wip)
pink <- fic (wip)
- park wonbin
cockwarming + guitar lessons <- ask
starboy <- fic (wip)
without glasses <- ask
winter <- fic (wip)
- hong seunghan
riding <- ask
going, going, gone! <- fluff, angst, fic
strawberry soju <- angst, fluff, fic
2:58am <- fic
breeding <- ask
- lee sohee
bye, bye, baby! <- fic (wip)
blue butterflies <- fic (wip)
- anton lee
individual medley <- fic (wip)
about time <- fic (wip)
roller coasters <- fluff, ask
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Text
Watermelon Sugar
Fandom: Musician RPF, RPF, 
Pairing: Harry Styles x Female Reader
Characters: Harry Styles, Female Reader
Word Count: 1109 
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Tastes like strawberries, On a summer evenin', And it sounds just like a song
Tags/ Warnings: My Writing, Halloween Challenge, Writing Challenge, Songfics, Established Relationship, Smut, Kissing, Fingering, Oral Sex, Songfic, Lyrics, Madison Square Garden, Harry @ The Garden, MSG, Love On Tour, Reader Outfit Inspo, Harry’s Outfit, Watermelon Sugar // Harry Styles
Notes:  This is part of my writing Challenge for Halloween 2022. All fics are based off of songs I love. The aim is to write one fic a day for 15 days straight. I’m doing a similar thing for Christmas but they will all be headcanons [requests welcome for that] Enjoy x  
Updated 8/23
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15 DAYS OF SONGFICS FOR HALLOWEEN (OCT 15TH - OCT 31ST)
As I finished putting my earrings in and pulled back from the mirror. My outfit was complete though it was going to be completely wasted in a dark arena. That and the attention was never going to be on me. No, tonight every single eye in the house was going to be on my boyfriend Harry. I mean it was expected, he was a showman and his show an incredible spectacle. He deserved all the attention.
I smoothed out my skirt and exited the bathroom I was in which led to his dressing room. Madison Square Garden had many a room for its talent but this was by far one of the nicest. It had its own bar, a couple of couches, a tv and a full wall for Harry’s outfits and a vanity station. And though it was normally jam-packed with Harry’s vast entourage now when I looked out it was deserted except for a familiar mop of brown hair. Harry was sitting on the couch, facing away from me, scrolling through his phone. He turned around at the sound of the door opening and stood immediately when he saw me.
‘Hey,’ he said coming towards me, ‘you look gorgeous.’ ‘Thank you, you look good yourself. I like this one,’ I giggled as he wrapped his arms around me and pressed a small chaste kiss to my lips. ‘Yeah?’ he said with a smirk. It was true that he looked good today even if it was more of an understated look than his others. Just a pair of jeans and a denim waistcoat which showed off his tanned chest underneath. I ran my hand down it. He smirked at me and then leaned in a gave me another kiss. Yet this one wasn’t like the other. It wasn’t chaste, it wasn’t tender, in fact it was full of lust.
He pulled me towards him so our bodies were touching as he walked me backwards, pushing me down onto the couch. Our lips left one another for a moment before he was back, hovering above me, his knee between my legs and one hand on the back of the sofa the other skirting down my neck and then down to my chest which he cupped gently through the black cropped vest I was wearing, his eyes widening a little as he realised I wasn’t wearing a bra underneath.
His tongue probed mine for a moment before he moved on, his lips kissing down my jaw and onto my neck which he kissed and sucked at making a shiver run down my spine. One of my hands stroked his face softly whilst the other knotted in his hair, tugging gently every time it ran over the same sensitive spot making him chuckle and me moan.
‘Harry,’ I said breathily receiving a throat hum in response, ‘we have to stop.’ ‘Why?’ he said. His hand was underneath my shirt now, his thumb swiping over my nipple. ‘Maybe because you’ve got a show in like five minutes,’ I said the last word coming out strangled as he pinched it hard. ‘And?’ he asked. His kisses were heading down my neck and chest which was now exposed as he had pushed the crop top over the top of my breasts so it was now bunched up near my chin. He took my nipple in his mouth and nipped it a little with his teeth sending a jolt down between my legs.
‘Harry,’ I groaned but there was little fight in it. I knew there was no stopping him.
His hand traced gently up my thigh leaving every piece of skin he touched on fire. Eventually, his hand cupped my mound gently, his fingers teasing up and down my damp underwear. I heard him chuckle at just how wet I was already. Then he was gone. He removed himself from the couch and got down on his knees at the side of it, grabbing my ankles and swivelling me around so I was sitting back against the couch as he whipped off my underwear and then threw both of my legs over each of his shoulders. Then he wrapped both of his arms around my thighs and pulled me to the edge of the couch. His face was now mere inches from my exposed sex and I could feel his warm breath against it.
But he didn’t touch me right away. Instead, he kissed down one thigh and then the other before laying a kiss between my legs. Then, ever so gently, he swirled his tongue around my clit. My head fell back against the couch as he started probing his tongue all around it his fingers teasing my hole. As one hand held me in place, he lapped at me driving me crazy. He placed one finger at my hole and gently pushed in curling it as he reached the second knuckle. Then he pulled out and replaced it with another.
‘Fuck Haz,’ I said scooting my hips to match his thrusting inside me. I could feel him smile against me but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he kept working in perfect rhythm until all of a sudden I was trembling around him, a strangled moan escaping my lips. My hand flew to my mouth trying to keep me quiet as he continued to fuck me through it. As I came down from that high my hand went to his hair, running my fingers through it gently.
‘Harry,’ I said weakly watching as he pulled back to look at me with a smile, his head resting against my thigh. As he did there was a knock on the door which replaced my contentment with panic but he didn’t even flinch. ‘Not be long,’ he shouted, ‘2 minutes.’
Whoever was at the door seemed to have heard him and didn’t enter but after a quick kiss on my thigh, he pulled away, his hand searching for my underwear on the floor. He grabbed them and then slid them onto me foot by foot. Then he helped me stand up so I could pull them up fully, though my legs were still like jelly, all while I watched him adoringly. He still looked good though he was visibly dishevelled. His hair was pushed in all directions and his lips were swollen, a glint of dampness on his chin which made me blush though he didn’t even seem to care. Instead, he grasped me by the face and kissed me making me taste myself on his tongue. When he pulled back his eyes were hooded and his pupils were still blown with lust.
‘Come on,’ he said smacking me on the arse and forcing me to walk towards the door, ‘I’ve got a show to do.’
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Note
BABE! Will you please take one for all the southern girlies and write about josh dating a souther reader please! It doesn’t even have to be a fic I just need your thoughts!❤️
OH YEEHAW BITCH!
I think if Josh came to visit you and your home state while on tour, he'd love love love to go out and "do what the locals do."
I wanna take this man out! First things first, get my man into some cowboy boots. He's gonna wanna get something unique and I know it'd look so cute on him. Get him into some wrangler, God his ass in some wrangler jeans, I'm droolin'. Put him in a lil denim pearl snap shirt and a cowboy hat, probably straw because it's hot as hell down here.
We're getting some tex-mex and some strawberry margaritas! Chips and queso! I'm taking his ass dancing! We're going line dancing and teaching him how to two step and how to waltz. He'd be such a cute and giggly mess, staring down at your feet and trying to count his steps.
"I don't know what I'm doin-"
"No, you're great! Just let me lead!"
"But I'm the guy?"
"And you're a Yankee. I'm leading."
He just laughs, letting you take the lead, his face just lights up and his smile never fades. By the time Neon Moon rolls around, he's a pro. He'd love the way you sing along to all the words and the way your twang comes out when you talk to others who have an accent or when you sing country songs. He'll mock you lovingly,
"What'd you say?"
"Jalapeño?"
"No, you said 'Jalapeña' with an 'a'."
"Shut up."
Set up a bonfire and catch fireflies, make some smores, and listen to the crickets and frogs, cuddling next to each other on a blanket, drinking shiner beer, and looking at the stars. He'd find such beauty and serenity in the warm summer air. Taking him to a swimming hole and tubing. Day drinking and grilling out on the river with friends.
Josh would fucking love it at the rodeo oh my God. Get my man some funnel cake or frito pie and watch some bull riding? A perfect date, truly. I think Josh would love to be a cowboy honestly.
I wanna be his lil cowgirl 🥺
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Raine Callaghan doesn't know what to make of Rebecca Sinclair most days. They had a good relationship once, but that was a long time ago. A death in the family will do that, he supposes.
Rated M for mature themes such as parental death, dysfunctional families, child neglect, implied violence, and minor mentions to the North Irish Troubles.
Other Tags: Kid Fic, Growing Up, Time Skips, Canon Divergence (Alternate Backstory), Tragedy, and Hopeful Ending.
Masterpost | AO3
Chapter 1: Even Though You Haven't Got a Clue
Callaghan Family Home, Belfast - 1981
The familiar rumble of an engine grows closer, the sound immediately recognizable. Ciaran's head snaps up, knowing exactly what car sounds like that, and almost drops the mixing bowl in his hands. Bishop is faster than he is and grabs ahold of the rim, gently pulling it from his fingers, and presses a kiss to the top of his head.
"Go on, Little Knight," she laughs. "And tell him he doesn't get to have cookie dough just 'cause he's early."
Ciaran doesn't bother waiting to respond. He runs from the kitchen, trailing loose flour behind him like fairy dust. He throws open the front door just in time to see Rook step from his car. He's cut his hair again, waves of black hair falling just short of his chin, just in time for the summer weather rolling in. He smiles brightly when his hazel eyes fall on Ciaran.
"Da!" Ciaran all but shrieks, throwing his arms around his father's legs and burying his face in the denim.
"Hello there, my little knight," Rook says back with a laugh, ruffling Ciaran's hair into an even worse rat’s nest.
Ciaran looks up at his father, smiling so wide it almost makes his face hurt, but he doesn't care. It's been too long since his father was home. Doing important work, he's reassured time and time again. But it doesn't matter. All that matters is he’s home again. "Aunt Bishop says you can't have any cookie dough."
"You and Bishop are making cookies?" Rook scoops Ciaran up, making him squeal in delight. "You shouldn't have told me. Now you'll never stop me."
He breaks out into a maniacal laugh and Ciaran tries to wiggle free of his father's arms. He has to warn Aunt Bishop. His attempts are in vain and Rook presses a kiss to his cheek with a smile and a joyful wrinkle of his nose.
The sound of the passenger door shutting draws Ciaran's attention. A little of his mirth falls as he watches Rebecca stand up, straightening her blouse as she does. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled up in a high, tight bun. When her blue eyes meet Ciaran's hazel, she offers a short nod.
Ciaran doesn't know how to feel about Miss Rebecca. She's a friend of his dad's, sure, and Ciaran knows they love each other, but Ciaran isn't sure why. She always seems so strict. Stuck-up, Aunt Bishop has said before, though Ciaran isn't sure what she's stuck up for. Must be something bad the way Aunt Bishop says it. Ciaran gets the sense he makes her uncomfortable. The first time he'd met her, he had watched every part of her stiffen as though she were turning to stone every time he’d approached her.
Rook sets him back down on the ground, nudging his shoulder towards Rebecca as she makes her way around the car. Ciaran presses his lips together as he watches her. "Hullo, Miss Rebecca."
Rook had told him before that he could just call her Becca, but Ciaran had seen the way she'd pursed her lips like the day he'd dared Aunt Bishop to bite a lemon. He doesn't think she'd like it very much if he called her that. Better to stick to what makes her comfortable. If she is so important to Rook, Ciaran wants her to like him, too.
“Ciaran,” she says in greeting. She’s got a package in her arms. It’s wrapped in shiny paper with a ribbon on top. A present? It isn’t anyone’s birthday, best Ciaran can remember. Then she offers the parcel forward. “I brought you a gift.”
He takes it tentatively from her. “For me?” He frowns. “It’s not my birthday.”
Rook comes over, pressing a kiss to Rebecca’s cheek, and Ciaran watches in wonder as her expression softens. She seems to relax with his touch, all of her tension melting away like snow in the sun, and she nods as Rook whispers something in her ear.
Rebecca returns her attention to Ciaran as Rook makes his way inside the house. There’s a little more warmth than usual in her blue eyes. “I’m aware. I saw them and thought of you.”
She starts making her way to the door and Ciaran stumbles after her to keep up. He hugs the gift to his chest, a smile bubbling onto his face as he thinks of what it might be. Rebecca’s never given him a gift before, not on Christmas or his birthday, and certainly not out of the blue for no reason. But she was thinking of him and that makes him happy.
As they step into the sitting room, Ciaran hurries to leap onto the couch. Rebecca sits primly on the cushion opposite of him, watching him with interest. Ciaran rips into the shiny paper, excitement overtaking the his avoidance of the inevitable chastisement from his father for the mess he’s making as shreds of it fall to the floor.
He flips the lid of the box open, frowning at the contents. It’s a pair of red rain boots, bright and shiny in their cardboard confines. “You bought me shoes,” he says slowly. Is it a prank? Sometimes Aunt Bishop buys him something as a joke, just to watch his face, but Rebecca isn’t laughing the way Aunt Bishop always does before revealing the real gift.
“Last time I was here, I noticed your trainers were quite muddy,” Rebecca explains. “Having a pair of Wellies will keep your other shoes cleaner. I thought you might like the color.”
He should thank her. That’s what you do when people buy you gifts, right? If his father was in the room, he’d cuff Ciaran upside the back of the head for dawdling this long on it. He opens his mouth to say something, but a large crash comes from the kitchen, drawing both his and Rebecca’s attention away from the boots.
Ciaran can hear Aunt Bishop, her voice raised but not yelling loud enough for him to make out the words. His father’s voice is softer, gentler, that tone he uses when he wants to calm someone down. He looks over at Rebecca. She winces and wipes the expression from her face quickly, though the frown still lingers in the corners of her mouth.
“I’ve never heard Aunt Bishop so angry,” he murmurs. He squishes the rubber of the boots between his fingers just to give him something to do.
Rebecca sighs, “I knew he should have told her earlier.”
“Told her what?” Ciaran asks, eyes widening. “Are you and Da keeping secrets? Can I know? Can you tell me?”
Rebecca meets his expectant gaze and sighs. “Ciaran,” she says slowly. “You know I love your father very much, right?”
Ciaran nods, “He loves you, too, you know.”
Rebecca smiles softly, “I do.” Then she looks at him very seriously. She turns away from the kitchen, away from the argument going on behind the closed door, and fully to face him. “Your father and I are getting married.”
Ciaran purses his lips before asking, “So that makes you my new mum, yeah?”
Rebecca swallows heavily. “I suppose it will,” she says and Ciaran starts to feel nervous. He had thought Rebecca is fearless, facing the world with that severe set of her jaw and certainty in her pale eyes. She sounds afraid now.
He reaches out, leaning across the couch to put a hand on hers. She startles, but doesn’t pull away, and looks at him with wide, confused eyes. Ciaran smiles broadly at her, “Don’t worry, Miss Rebecca,” he says. He tries to mimic the tone his father takes when he scrapes his knees. “You’re going to be the best mum I’ve ever had. I know it.” He looks back down at the boots in his lap, wrinkling his nose. “Even if you buy me boots.”
Something flashes across Rebecca’s face and a watery smile crosses her lips. She laughs softly, pulling her hand free from his to ruffle his hair. “Thank you, Ciaran.” She trails her hand down to rest on his cheek as he beams at her. “It means a lot to me that you think so.”
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theharrowing · 9 months
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even tho the storm has died down significantly, i am going to go ahead and post my yoonmin oneshot tonight, just in case i do lose power/internet.
so uhhhhh who's up for a 12am pst fic drop 🤪🤪🤪. hopefully in the next hour, or so!
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So based on a Modern AU of Hercules, what kind of Girly-Girl Media would Persephone be into?
My Little Pony? Care Bears? Strawberry Shortcake? Barbie? or something else?
Also, I'm curious to know more about your Modern AU based on Lore Olympus (even though you're not into it) if you have any other headcanons but I would like to know how a Modern Disney! Hadephone would work in a Alternate Story.
AAAA I LOVE THIS QUESTION!!! Thank you for asking lol!!! I love when people ask about my AUs and ocs and fics and stuff like that! Lol it just makes my day to know that people are actually interested in my dumb little ideas lol! 😁💕💕
But yeah! You are correct lol! The modern au is based slightly off of Lore Olympus, but only a little bit, not a lot lol 😊
Anyways, modern Persephone really likes Hello Kitty and the Sanrio brand. She does like Barbie, Care Bears, and My Little Pony a little bit (she thinks those brands are cute as well and she does love unicorns in this universe too lol), but not as much as she loves Sanrio. She loves anything pastel colored or cute honestly lol. I think Persephone would really love Build-A-Bear Workshop too and I like to think Hades takes her there whenever she sees a new plush she really wants (and yes I think Persephone is totally a plushie collector because I too am a plushie collector lol, she is a self insert oc after all lol!).
Persephone (just like Hades) also likes to play video games. Her favorite games are Animal Crossing, Pokémon, Stardew Valley, and Little Big Planet. She also likes to play Mario Kart, any of the Kirby games, Mario Party (with friends, of course, because it’s more fun that way lol), and Super Smash Bros. Hades will sometimes ask her to play first person shooter games with him like Borderlands or Call of Duty and she’s surprisingly pretty good at those, but it’s not her cup of tea.
As for headcanons, well, this modern AU (as I mentioned before) is pretty much an “office romance” sorta thing, so I guess I’ll give headcanons for that lol!
Hades drives a fancy, black sports car.
Cerberus does exist but he’s not gigantic like in the Hercules universe, he’s pretty much the size of a Great Dane lol.
Pain and Panic are his personal assistants.
Persephone drives a cute little pastel yellow sedan.
Hades mainly wears corporate or business casual clothes, but on the weekends or when he hangs out with friends he likes to wear more punk clothing like leather jackets and ripped jeans.
Persephone’s clothing style for work is kinda retro and similar to dresses or outfits from the 50s or 60s. Lots of knee length dresses and and skirts with little cardigans or sweaters and all pastel colored. Her casual wear is mainly just modern girly outfits. Denim jumpers or overalls with cute shirts or cute graphic tees with matching skirts or shorts.
Just like in Hercules and the original Greek lore, Hades is rich and has a really nice little townhouse bachelor pad.
Persephone lives in an apartment not too far from Hades’ townhouse (this is before they get married, of course lol).
Persephone doesn’t have any pets in this AU, but she does volunteer at the animal shelter sometimes when she’s not working.
Before working in the actual office, Persephone used to work part time in the daycare center of Olympus Inc. (the name of the company lol).
Hades and Persephone love going to little cafes. A lot of their dates are pretty much coffee dates lol.
Hades loves to have lunch with Persephone at work and will always take the opportunity to have lunch with her if she’s able.
Sometimes Hades will bring Persephone lunch or grab her favorite coffee for her just so he can see her.
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sapphic-dragon-fox · 2 years
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Rules: tag 10 people you want to get to know better
Tagged By: @moonygyal - Hi! thank you 😁 this seems fun
-Favorite Time Of Year: Fall/Autumn🍁, I just like the word autumn over fall, the weather is so nice I can wear my denim coat with all my pins, I can still wear tank tops and everything looks so beautiful at that time, green trying to stick around through the browns, tans, yellows, oranges and reds! Just so nice to watch and sit around.
-Comfort Food: gummy bears/worms 🧸 are my go to when I feel like crap. Ive wanted one of those 10lb gummy worms 🐛 for years!!! I would probably eat it all in less than a week 😅
-Do You Collect Something: Rocks!! ⛰️ 😂 I love different shapes and sizes and colors, the fact that you can find an "ugly" rock and smash it (or cut it in half properly) and it can contain a whole new world or beauty inside, crystals, minerals and just fun formations in the stone.
Hint, most "ugly" bumpy craggley oval or round stones are probably geodes. If you're lucky you can hold these up to your ear and shake them and you can sometimes hear dirt and debris rattling up against the inside to confirm without cutting or smashing.
-Favorite Drink: Strawberry anything 🍓, milkshakes, soda, tea, bubba. I'm sure everyone I know would say coffee tho 😂
-Favorite Song/Artist: Stevie Nicks!! ❤️ Landslide makes me cry but I love it and Edge of Seventeen is just my favorite. I love Fleetwood Mac too but Stevie was my first crush and I saw that picture of her in the white dress with doves around her and thought she was a real life angel as child. Like touched by an angel style angel. Good show btw 🤷 preachy ofc but good
-Current Favorite Songs: Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish, Fever - Angèle and Dua Lipa, Levitating - Dua Lipa, You - Evanescence, Good Riddance (Time of your life) - Greenday
-Favorite Fic: Not sure about this one, been awhile since I read a fic or webtoons. When I left off I was loving
All webtoons
Space boy by Stephen McCranie
Muted by Miranda Mundt
Hookey by Míriam Bonastre Tur (finished, has book form for sale)
Always Human by Ari North (finished, has book for sale she also has a lovely Tumblr, @walkingnorth visit her page for more great projects)
Just a nice shout out for a feel good graphic novel, Lost At Sea by Brian Lee O'Malley the creator of Scott pilgrim vs the world.
-So bad at this part cause I don't actually interact with many people so tagging people I reblog alot and find interesting: @lionfloss @ssweetfuckingpoisonn @xhaleyyy @loveaffxir @peace-and-plants @im-the-lesbian-aunt @tobehappyy117 @decaffeinatedgirlswim @hopperz221 @100xsuns
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rafescoke · 3 years
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Hiii! I don’t know if you’re still taking requests but how about a rafe fic where he is super sweet and gentle and just soft with the reader in private but an asshole once their in public? Just angst and a lil but of fluff and rafe being rafe, if that’s not too much to ask!
Facade ; Rafe Cameron
masterlist
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader
Summary: “This whole thing you’re showing to people. . . that’s not you. Fuck you.”
Warnings: Angst, angst, and more angst. Not the ending everyone’s expecting  (I think) 
A/N: I’m extremely sorry if this isn’t my best work but thank you for 700+ followers wtf ily <3 finishing all requests in my inbox this week!
“Don’t leave me yet,” Rafe groans. He places his arms around her waist, snuggling close. Her scent of strawberry wafts into his nostrils, and he closes his eyes against her warmth.
“Work.” she mumbles, and tries to stand up again. But Rafe does not let go, still holding onto her skin as if on his last breath, and she lets out a chuckle at the adorable sight.
“I can pay you twice the amount you’re working for right now,” he says. He finally let go of her, and slumps into the vacant pillows that she had slept in a few hours ago.
“I know, and I won’t give you the satisfaction of doing so,” she smiles, and take the chance of freedom to walk towards the bathroom. She checks the naked boy on top of the bed from the mirror, her heart soaring.
His boy.
She kisses him on the cheeks when she’s finally done, swiping her thumb on his pink lips as he whimpers softly in his sleep. She kisses him again, this time on the lips, for good measures.
(Y/N) never really like the restaurant in the country club, because it’s full of impolite kooks and bratty tourists. But money is money, and she’ll never say no to a good sum of them.
She sighs, clearing another dirty table all while thinking of Rafe in his room. Her insides suddenly beam when his kisses slides through her memory, and she wishes the clock would turn faster.
She slides in the empty back room, pulling her phone out from her back pocket and tapping on the top name of her contact. Her fingers glide effortlessly, her mouth forming a smile.
miss you.
Three seconds later, her phone dings.
Rafe: Disgusting.
Rafe: Miss you more :)
She wants to go back to him as soon as possible.
The door behind her back open before she can stuff her phone back in, and she struggles to appear busy as the manager peek his head in.
“What are you doing here? It’s full house. You got a table.”
(Y/N) look up to him, trying to pretend like she wasn’t just skipping some time to text her boyfriend, and nods.
Okay, maybe not boyfriend. She’s not completely sure. They never really certify anything, but whatever’s going on between them is definitely something more than ‘friends’.
She sighs again, picking up a menu before heading towards the group of friends sitting at the long table by the golf course.
“Hey, welcome to—”
Oh my god.
“Hey, you’re (Y/N), right?”
(Y/N)’s attention snaps back to the blonde boy sitting next to Rafe, and she gulps before nodding slowly. “Um, yeah.”
“You work here?”
Is he stupid?
She refrains herself from rolling her eyes, “Yes.”
Rafe scans the menu, not looking at her, and she feel a tug at her heart. Why is he pretending not to know her? She’s not expecting a sudden hug or a kiss on the lips; she’s thinking of something like a goddamn smile.
“Might come down here often, then,” the boy laughs, and the others follow him. Except for Rafe. “What’s the best order here?”
“Pasta,” she mumbles. He’s still looking at the menu, clearly trying to ignore her piercing stare.
“Which one?” The blonde sighs, flipping through the menu. “You got bolognese, carbonara—”
“Aglio Olio,” she answers quickly. He can choke and starve for all she cares for ruining her day like this. Why would he need her opinion on this as if he has never tasted on every single dish on this menu?
“I’ll take that one,” he smiles, and peeks over her arms. “Did you write that down? Can I see it?”
What a fucking cunt.
“That’s it?” She asks, tilting her head to one side. She takes more orders from the other boys, but there’s only one left.
She looks up to him, and finally, he meets her eyes.
“What’s the best soup here?”
Really?
“All of them are good,” she answers, biting her tongue. She never told Rafe before about her workplace, and they had agreed on that, but she did not expect this kind of treatment once he finally found the answer.
“Is this how you treat the customers?”
What. The. Fuck.
(Y/N) bites her lips, and suppresses her groan while the other boys laugh. “We have the best mushroom soup.”
“I’ll go with the mushroom soup, please.”
(Y/N) scribbles down ‘mushfuckingroom soup for the asshole’ down, and gives out her fakest smile. “That’s it? I’ll come back shortly with your food.”
“One more thing—”
(Y/N) turns to them again, still holding onto that smile, “Yes?”
“Try to be nicer to the customers sometimes. That way, we’ll tip you bigger.”
She stalks off, not knowing that person under the same skin she caressed and kissed this morning.
. . .
Rafe bites his lips, sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing the call button for the 17th time tonight.
He sighs when the operator comes on, and throws his back against the mattress again.
Okay. Maybe he was mad at that time. She never told him where she works, and he assumed her workplace to be some kind of a hipster cafe with cats for decoration. He didn’t know she would be serving in the restaurant at the country club.
He texts her again, groaning.
Pick up the phone
Helloooooooooo
?
The typing notification pops up, and he waits excitedly for her reply. After a few minutes, the notification disappear. He grunts again, and goes straight to his contacts.
He presses the phone against his ear, waiting for her voice to say something; to listen to his pleas and to come back to his arms. He misses her so much, more than anything else in the world.
“Stop calling me,” she says.
He sits up straighter, feeling his blood rushing throughout his body. “Hey, how are you?”
“How’s the mushroom soup?” She mocks, and Rafe raises his brows.
He sees it clearly now.
“Are you mad about that day in the restaurant? I wasn’t even talking shit to you like Topper—”
“Really? The whole ‘bigger tips’ thing? Was that necessary?” She asks, her voice breaking.
Oh god. “It was a joke!”
“Yeah? Congra-tu-fucking-lations, Cameron, it’s a funny one,” she says, and Rafe can hear her slowly distancing voice.
He panics, “Don’t end on me. Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that you won’t tell me where you work, and it appeared as a shock to me.”
That’s the dumbest reason (Y/N) had ever heard. She feels like laughing and crying at the same time, because this is exactly the problem;
Guys like Rafe Cameron would never want to be with a girl like (Y/N) (Y/L/N).
“Suck my dick, asshole!” she yells, and slams the phone down.
Rafe pulls the phone away, his face contorting in anger, and his shoulders slump. He should’ve known better.
It’s just that. . . he’s afraid of what the others would think of him if they knew about him dating a pogue. Ward didn’t take it well when Sarah ran off with John B, and Rafe assumes he would be feeling the same way about (Y/N).
Why does life have to be so fucking complicated all the time?
Two days after, Rafe heard about a party in The Cut, but nothing from (Y/N). He know he’s fucked up big time, and he’s content to make it right with her again.
He doesn’t like stepping his foot onto The Cut, only going to the other side of the island to meet Barry for his medical issues, and sometimes to see how Sarah is doing.
But he’s driving down to the strange place again, so determined to see his girl one more time.
The party is in an abandoned warehouse, and from the outside, Rafe can see how loud and huge the party is. He sighs, thinking about the amount of time he would be wasting to find her whilst going through the throng of bodies.
But he wants to see her and touch her more than anything.
No one seems to notice him, Rafe Cameron, the Kook prince yet, and he’s hoping to keep it that way until he can pull (Y/N) out. Not one person back in Figure 8 could know about his presence in the party, what more the reason he’s there in the first place.
It’s easy to notice her. Black top, denim shorts, and (H/C) hair flowing from her shoulders. He stalks forward, extending his hand, but stops when he notices the boy beside her.
JJ fucking Maybank.
He balls his hands into a fist, and watches the way she laughs at a joke by JJ.
He takes his phone out, dialling her number, and stares as she grabs her phone out of her pocket. (Y/N) sighs, sliding the call button to the left, and keeps it in her shorts again.
Oh.
Meet me outside
Now.
(Y/N) pulls her phone out again, contorts her face at the texts, and finally look up. Her eyes scans the whole area, trying to find a particular brunette. . .
“What’s wrong?” JJ asks, touching her forearm.
“I’ll be right back,” she says, holding a finger up, and heads straight towards the exit.
Her shoes crunches against the gravel as she tries to look for Rafe’s jeep. She stands there alone, crossing her arms, and groans when she realises that he must’ve been tricking her.
Rafe slides his arms around her. “Hey, princess.”
She yelps, pushing him off and looking straight into his eyes. She relaxes when reality hits her, but stiffen again when reality hits her again.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” Her cold voice rings into his ears, but he misses her too much to care.
“C’mere,” he says, extending his hands. “Missed you.”
“Fuck off,” she announces and stalks away, only to be pulled by Rafe’s arms again. This time, she stays in his arms.
“Sorry,” he mumbles against the top of her head. “I’m sorry I was such a dick to you.”
She stays silent, trying to put up a wall between her and Rafe, but it’s near impossible. She misses him a bit too much too.
So she lets him pull her into his jeep, and whatever feud they have before dissipates into the air.
He kisses her on the lips once in the car, and when she pulls away, he groans.
“I’m not going to let you go with just a kiss after 2 weeks,” he says, inching closer to her. She gives him a sly smile, knowing exactly what he’s trying to tell her, and closes the gap.
He pulls away again after finding his hands under her top, and points to the back. She shakes her head, smiling.
“Come on, you missed me too much to say no.”
. . .
Maybe he should say something to his friends to stop them from harassing her.
But he’s glued to the spot, watching as Topper taunts her.
“You lied to me,” Topper pouts, “The Aglio Olio isn’t that good.”
She looks at Rafe, hoping, wanting, longing for him to say something. Anything.
He stays shut, scanning the menu.
“Sorry. Would you like to order anything else?” She sighs, spelling a big ‘fuck you’ on the top of her notepad.
“Do you come with the menu?”
She looks at Rafe again, waiting.
Say something. Please.
She smiles, “I do.”
Topper smiles and the other coos. (Y/N) watches as Rafe’s jaw tightens, and she goes back to her dirty work.
Two can play this game, Cameron.
“Give me your best food, babe,” Topper smiles, and shuts the menu. “Anyone else? Rafe? What do you want to eat?”
She waits. Say something about us, Rafe, please.
“Can we change for another server—” he says, and raises his hand up. “Hey, yo, you, yeah, you the manager?”
Logan gives (Y/N) a warning look before putting on a smile for Rafe, “Yes, sir, is there anything I can do?”
“Can you call someone else to take our order?”
This is way too far. He’s taking this way too far—
“Did our (Y/N) say something?” Logan asks, still smiling. She knows he’s seething inside, and she hates Rafe for putting her in this position.
“No. I just love for a better view.”
That feels like a hard smack across the face. Her throat starts burning, and she can feel her tears slowly appearing.
“That’s no problem, sir, I’ll get you another server—” Logan looks around, “Kate! Yes, c’mere.”
(Y/N) looks at Rafe again. His eyes meet hers, but there’s nothing behind his gaze.
Coward.
She reaches for the cold water on the table, her head’s so light she can literally faint, and splashes the brunette boy so quick that he stands up immediately.
“Asshole,” she states, and turns to Logan. “I fucking quit!”
. . .
Rafe Cameron is 100% an asshole.
She used to think of so many counterattacks to that statement, but there’s zero now.
She hates Rafe Cameron will all her heart, and wishes to never see him again.
He tried contacting her a few times over the week, to which she ignored heavily. She never thought he would stoop so low to preserve his title as the ‘Kook prince’.
To hell with that.
She would never treat him like that, and she’s just so clueless as to why he said all those mean words to her.
He kissed her on the lips, pulling her close. “My baby. So fucking perfect.”
(Y/N) grinded against him, hearing his soft whimpers, and laughed. She watched the clock ticking, and sighed.
“Forty minutes until I’m off to work.”
Rafe groaned, “Stop talking about work. Work with me.”
“As what, idiot?” She laughed, gazing at him lazily. “As a fuckbuddy?”
He sat up straighter, his face contorting in anger. “You are not my fuckbuddy, okay? Stop saying that. God, I will never do that you.”
She smiled, and leaned to kiss him against his chest. She trailed her lips up to his neck, and stopped right behind his ear. He shivered, biting his lips.
“And I’ll make you mind one day, (Y/N), I will,” he whispered.
Now that’s the biggest lie of the century. She gets it now;
The night dates in the most unknown places, like a fancy restaurant in a fucking town 2 islands away from Obx. Not wanting to hold hands or to be posted on her Instagram.
Why had she been so stupid?
“Fuck,” she groans, laying her back against the pillow.
Rafe Cameron is embarrassed to be seen with her. Something like that.
All the sweet things he would say to her in bed is nothing but a tactic to get into her pants. And she allowed him. God.
“You’re a stupid fuck, (Y/N),” she cries, and bites her lips. And she thought he would be the one—
Riiing! Riiing!
“Stop calling me!” She yells first thing when she picks up the phone, trying to stop her voice from cracking. Like always, she failed.
“Yo? You good?” JJ’s voice rang through the phone, a hint of worry in his voice. “I can call you another—”
“No! No, J, it’s fine, I thought you’re someone else,” she sighs. “What’s up?”
“Wanna come down to the beach with me tomorrow?”
“And do what?” She sighs. She doesn’t feel like swimming in the water, or watch JJ swim, or search for dolphins (JJ told her before that there’s dolphins in Obx), or anything, really.
She wants to sleep.
“Surfing,” he answers, like it’s a fact. “Come on, you got the whole summer to practice surfing. Let’s start with asking the hottest guy in Obx to coach you.”
(Y/N) slapped him in the face, giggling ferociously. He picked her up, twirling her around, and when she least expected it, he jumped into the water with her in his arms.
They resurfaced, still in a laughing fit.
“God, Rafe, you’re an asshole,” she laughed, pushing his chest.
“And the hottest guy in Obx.”
She bites her lips, thinking of the memory, and clears her throat. “Maybe not surfing, J, but I’ll come down anyways.”
“Okay to me,” he says, and (Y/N) can imagine a smile playing on his lips. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”
“Night, J.”
She sighs, and shuts her phone off.
Whatever Rafe did to her disappears into thin air when she arrives at the beach and see JJ with two surfboards planted in the sand.
He grins at her when she comes close, “There you are. Thought you bailed on me.”
She rolls her eyes, “I don’t want to surf, J.”
“Since when?”
She groans, “Like. Right now.”
“Nah, come on.”
Maybe JJ’s right. She gives him a nudge every time he tries to hold her, but he’s patient. He waits until she’s more comfortable before helping her up on her board, and when she topples over from the small wave, he lets out the biggest laugh.
And she completely forgets about the fight with Rafe for the whole hour.
“God. You’re a dick.”
JJ smiles, stabilising her board again. “Try again. You can call me a dick once you will not fall over a small wave.”
And she tries again.
By the time the sun sets they were laying right next to each other, just admiring each other’s presence and not saying anything.
She likes it like this. No secrets.
“(Y/N)?”
She hums in response, leaning on her elbows for support.
“You deserve someone a lot more better than Rafe.”
“Don’t talk about him,” she sighs, and closes her eyes.
When (Y/N) told the pogues about Rafe the night after the incidence, they were all fuming with anger and hatred towards the brunette boy. But (Y/N) doesn’t have an ounce of hate in her for him, even after all the hurtful things he said to her.
What an idiot.
“I can’t watch you get hurt again,” JJ says. “I care about you.”
She looks him properly now, watching as the golden light illuminates his handsome face. “I know, J.”
They lay in silence again, staring at the blue landscape of nothingness.
“There’s someone out there who will treat you better.”
She looks at him again. No. No.
“Yeah?” She laughs, trying to give him the idea to stop right now and not make it any complicated for her. She loves him, more than anything in the world, but not in the way she feels for Rafe.
He’s her Laurie to Jo March. Nothing more but a best friend.
He scoots closer, feeling her warmth. “Yeah. Look around, (Y/N).”
She inches away, “J, I’m not looking for anyone. You know that.”
“Except for Rafe,” he mumbles. “Is that right?”
“He’s different.”
“Why, (Y/N)? He treats you like shit, is embarrassed to be seen with you—”
“Okay, J, fuck! I get it, okay? But I’m not looking for anyone. I’m just not. Leave me alone!” She groans, throwing her arms into the air exasperatedly. She doesn’t need another boy in her life right now.
JJ’s right. Except for Rafe.
“I’m leaving,” she says, grabbing her tote bag and stuffing all her belongings. “This is a mistake.”
“(Y/N), wait—” he tries to hold her, but she flinches away. He crosses his arms, “Let me drive you home at least.”
“I can walk.”
“It’s getting darker. Come on, don’t make this any harder for me.”
“A drive back home, and that’s it, J,” she warns, and sets for the black bike a distance away.
The ride towards her small home takes a few minutes on the bike, and all the time she’s sitting behind JJ with her arms placed on his shoulders for balance, they didn’t exchange any words. There’s an obvious awkward dome between the two of them.
“I’m sorry, J,” she sighs, stepping away from the bike and handing him the helmet. “I didn’t mean to lash out on you.”
He smiles grimly, not saying anything.
The engine roars back to life, and he looks at her again; standing with her hair slowly drying and her shirt still sticking to her body. He looks away.
“J?” She calls, placing her hands over his. He raises his brows at her, waiting.
She places a soft kiss against his lips, so subtle yet meaningful to him, and pulls away after a few seconds. She rubs his cheeks slowly, and gives him another kiss on the cheeks.
“Sorry, J,” she whispers.
JJ smiles softly, and runs his thumb over her cheeks.
Maybe in another lifetime.
“(Y/N)?”
Their heads turn towards the voice behind her figure, and (Y/N) swears her heart stops.
Rafe looks at her and back to JJ, his mind connecting the puzzle, and he nods.
“Wait, Rafe!”
JJ tugs on her wrist, his eyes begging. “Leave with me. Come on.”
She looks at JJ, and then back to Rafe, and she hopes for some kind of a way to get out of this. She groans, and pulls her hands away. “Go, J. I don’t need you.”
And that’s enough to hurt the blonde boy.
“Rafe!” She yells after the boy walking to his jeep, but he continues to walk, ignoring her.
She lurches forward and grab his shoulders, turning him to face her. She looks into his eyes, looking for any sign of love for her.
“Rafe, it’s not what you think.”
“Yeah? Were you trying to give him a CPR or something?”
She holds him in her hands again, “No, Rafe, I swear. I was just. . .”
But there’s no proper way to explain why she had kissed JJ. Was it because she feel bad? But why would she kissed him?
“Yeah,” he nods, prying his hands away.
A sudden wave of anger courses through her, because the boy who had hurt her did not just make this look like it’s her entire fault. She pushes him on the chest, and his back hit the car door.
“What the fuck?” He yells, glaring at her.
“So what? You’re making me look like the fucking bad guy now? After all the shit you said to me in the restaurant?
He laughs dryly, “Of course you would point this back at me. Hey, hey, look—” he cups her face, “At least I didn’t kiss anyone.”
She pushes him away, “It doesn’t mean anything! And you’re not my fucking boyfriend.”
He licks his lips, “Yeah. So let me go.”
She pulls him to her again, “Don’t fucking run away from me like this! You didn’t even apologise!”
“Because you won’t pick up my calls!” He yells back, throwing his arms into the air. “You want to fuck JJ fucking Maybank? Then go.”
“Maybe I do want to fuck JJ, Rafe, because at least he’s real. This whole thing you’re showing to people. . . that’s not you. Fuck you.”
“Yeah?” He taunts, staring at her left hand placed directly on his chest. “Then fuck him. You don’t need me.”
“I don’t.”
“Yeah,” he laughs, watching as her chest heave. “I can go to Kie too, you know, to make this even.”
“Yeah? Would you embarrass her in front of your friends too?”
He shrugs, “No.”
She grits her teeth, knowing that he’s just trying to get under her skin.
“I hate you.”
He turns her over, so she’s facing him, and inches closer to her ears. “You don’t.”
“I do.”
He laughs again, pressing himself against her, and Rafe blames the heat of North Carolina in mid July for the sudden tingling in his stomach.
“I hate that stupid smirk on your face right now, and I’ll do anything to wipe them off.”
He presses a soft kiss against her cheeks, feeling her brush against him, and let out a soft whimper. “Okay.”
After 2 weeks of not seeing her, all he wanted was to talk to her at her house, after all the calls that she didn’t pick up. But when he waited for her to come back from God knows where and saw him getting off JJ’s bike, he lets the cold side of him take over.
He lets her go, sighing. “I’ll just go. This is a waste of time. You’re clearly not thinking about me.”
(Y/N) bites her lips, because a part of her wants him to stay, and they can kiss each other again, but another part of her wants him to go and leave her alone.
“Go.”
He hesitates, and nods. The jeep speeds away, leaving (Y/N) alone in her front step, thinking about what she had just done.
She hurt JJ, who wanted nothing but the best of her, and she just lost Rafe. She’s as good as alone in this world, and she’s not sure what to do anymore. She wishes she never let her temper got ahold of her, but it’s too late.
She just wants to sleep it off right now.
-
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spxllcxstxr · 3 years
Text
Date Night • The Marauders
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(Gif not mine)
Request: Maybe like a poly!marauders x (she/her) reader where they just spend a day together :) like you can write smut If you’d like, but yea maybe they can go out to eat id like to see a dynamic in a poly relationship w them. Thank you!! Love your writing <3 — anon
Summary: Date nights are rare, but tonight, you go out for ice cream with your partners
Warnings: Food and eating!! The entire fic is about eating, so please stay safe! If you have a peanut allergy no you don’t. Also, if you’re lactose intolerant like me, uhhhh pretend there’s a potion for that I guess, kinda implied first Wizarding war, smallest hint of steaminess
Word Count: 1.6k
A.N: Remus=Ross, James=Chandler, Sirius=Joey, right? This took me like weeks to finish...but overall I kinda like it. Let me know what you think, and love you all ❤️
****
The four of you very rarely had free time.
Between missions and meetings, you and your partners almost never had time off, and even when you did, one of you would still be busy. One of you would still be undercover or stuck debriefing the latest mission with Mad-Eye for hours.
So it’s weird to find yourself situated on the couch, Sirius’ head resting on your lap and Remus on the other end, stuck with his feet. James shuffles around in the kitchen behind you, stuck with dish duty after almost setting your flat on fire.
Sirius snuggles deeper into your thigh, evidently still exhausted from the previous day’s mission he was tasked with.
The flat is mostly quiet, the only sounds coming from Remus turning the pages of his novel and the ceramic plates clashing together as they get put away. The sun slowly sets outside, basking your living room in glowing orange in light.
You run your fingers through the mess of dark curls splayed out on your lap, always lustrous and soft to the touch. He hums deeply in approval.
A sharp clap from behind jolts you out of your peaceful thoughts.
You crane your neck to watch as James throws on his denim jacket.
“I believe that we,” He starts, eyeing the three of you. “deserve a date night.”
Instantly, a smile grows across your face. The last time the four of you had a proper date night, it was 1979 and Queen had just released a new song, which meant that Sirius needed to celebrate with all of you at the pub getting absolutely pissed.
Since you all joined the Order, all your free time has been sucked down the drain.
So that’s why the mere suggestion of the normally elusive date night makes you feel all giddy inside. You would’ve gotten up from your comfortable position to throw your coat on if it wasn’t for Sirius practically securing you to the cushions.
“But James...” He groans.
“Oh c’mon, Pads, we haven’t been on a proper date since—“
“Last year.” Remus interjects, shutting his book before placing it onto the coffee table. “But then again, you were too drunk for it to actually be considered a date.”
“Don’t blame me, blame Freddie and his Merlin given voice.” Sirius muses, still laying on your thigh. His fingers dance around your kneecap.
Remus slowly eases himself off the couch, joining James by the front door.
“Fine.” You hear James shrug. “We’ll just leave you here to suffer while Remus, (Y/n), and I go out to Florean’s.”
This seems to grab his attention, because he perks up just enough for you to slide out of his grasp.
You end up at Remus’s side, clinging to his grey jumper as you excitedly pull on your shoes.
“Ice cream?” Sirius asks, pushing his hair behind his ears. “Without me?”
“It doesn’t have to be without you, Sirius.” You retort, sandwiched between James and Remus. “If you get your arse over here, we won’t have to leave you.”
“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” Sirius huffs, hands raised in mock surrender, dragging himself over to the front door.
He waves his wand, boots zipping out of the closet and slipping onto his feet, his dark leather jacket covering his white shirt on its own.
“What, are simple tasks too hard for you now?” Remus teases, lightly bumping his shoulder into Sirius’.
“We’ve got magic for a reason, Moons.” The shorter of the two rolls his eyes. “Might as well use it.”
Remus opens his mouth to retort but James swiftly interrupts their bickering.
“I swear to Godric Gryffindor himself, (Y/n) and I will leave both you gits here.”
There’s grumbling from the two of them, but it becomes garbled once James throws an arm around you and Apparates you to Diagon Alley.
Your brain feels like it’s spinning in your skull and your stomach tugs familiarly at your naval. Sure you’ve Apparated many many times before, but it’s simply not fun no matter what.
As per usual, Diagon Alley is loud. Children and drunkards laugh, spells and fireworks whizz passed your ears, people in heels trot across the cobblestone path.
It’s places like Diagon Alley that remind you why you love magic so much.
James’ arm is still heavy on your shoulders as you watch people in cloaks and tall hats rush by you.
There’s a startling crack behind you and you and James turn around to see your other partners. Sirius might have a few new purple bruises littered across his collar bones and Remus might have a smug look plastered across his face, but no one says anything. Remus throws the two of you a silent wink as Sirius hangs off of him.
“Gonna hold my hand, Moony?” James questions, his arm outstretched.
Remus eagerly takes it, fingers interlocking.
So the four of you are connected as you stroll down the street. Your face is buried into James’ denim jacket, the faint smell of grass stains and broom oil an already welcomed scent. In the middle, James and Remus have their shoulders rubbing together as they walk, James’ thumb most likely tracing figure eights between his knuckles like he always does. Lastly, it seems like Sirius had changed his position enough to stick a hand in Remus’ back pocket.
The sun continues to dip lower below the horizon, resulting in candles and lanterns being lit in every dark corner. Children are ushered inside homes and adults start to flock towards the pubs.
With the looming threat of dark and dangerous wizards, people aren’t taking their chances, safety in numbers and safety indoors being popular within the village.
Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor is lit up in a rainbow of colors as always, and the sweet scent of ice cream drifts through the air. People sit in crowds outside the shop, enjoying their treats on the sidewalk or some even spread out on the street.
“So what’re you going for today, Jamie?” You ask as your little group enters the shop.
A little bell sounds from above you, barely heard over the boisterous laughter and rowdy conversations that surround you.
Unlike you, Sirius, and Remus, James doesn’t have a signature flavor. He had to have a different kind every visit. So while Remus had already ordered his strawberries and cream in a waffle cone and Sirius is eyeing his peanut butter ice cream, James is still perusing his options like a little kid.
Your own ice cream starts to melt a bit while you’re waiting.
James squints his eyes at the names, despite his glasses already resting on the bridge of his nose.
“You haven’t done toffee apple in a bit, Prongs.” Sirius points, his finger making contact with the cool glass barrier.
“You’re right.” James hums. “Thanks.” He presses a quick kiss to Sirius’ stubbled cheek before ordering his ice cream.
There’s a small open table across the way, lit up by a few lanterns, which the four of you claim.
There’s a very slight breeze that makes you cuddle up to Remus’ soft jumper.
Desperate to talk about something other than the current state of affairs, James gets caught up talking the Wimbourne Wasps and their new Beater, Ludovic Bagman.
You watch Sirius, tongue poking ever so slightly out of the corner of his mouth, try to sneak a scoop of James’ ice cream while he’s distracted.
Attempting to hide your amusement, you bring a hand up to cover your mouth, feigning interest in the Quidditch talk.
You watch the spoon make an indent and it’s halfway to Sirius’ mouth before—
“Oi!”
The silver spoon freezes abruptly, and grey eyes widen significantly.
“Is that why you suggested toffee apple? So you could nick some of my bloody ice cream?” James gasps dramatically, mouth agape in shock.
“Where’re your manners, James?” Sirius retorts, licking his spoon. “Sharing is caring.”
His hazel eyes narrow. “I don’t know, Black, that looked more like thievery to me.”
“Well let’s take it to our very own Wizengamot, then.” Sirius loudly gestures to you and Remus.
“Well I’m sure that for a wee bit of ice cream, (Y/n) and I, as key witnesses to the whole event, can clear the air.” Remus smirks, biting into his cone.
Sirius swiftly pushes the rest of his ice cream across the table, not even trying to be discrete about his offering. You and Remus start to dig in.
“Bribery!” James shouts, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. “This trial is a load of bullshit!”
“Sorry James, can’t hear you over how good this is.” Remus remarks with his mouth full.
You lick your spoon, watching the theatrics.
“That doesn’t even make sense!” James straightens his glasses and runs a hand through his hair in playful frustration.
“Aw, Jamie...you want some of mine?” You pout, offering some of your own frozen dessert.
“At least someone at this table loves me.” James grumbles, sticking a spoon into your bowl.
Sirius sticks his tongue out.
“Hey, I never said Sirius was cleared of all charges.” Remus raises a scarred brow.
“What?” Sirius snaps. “But I bribed you!”
You snicker at his balled up fists.
“So you admit to the bribery, you might as well admit to the thievery while you’re at it.” He finishes the bowl, licking the last of it from his spoon.
“Oh how the tables have turned.” James smugly points out.
Sirius childishly pouts, opting to pick at his black painted fingernails.
“We should have date nights more often.” James chuckles, clinking your spoons together.
All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco @mullthingsoverinthehotwater
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