so i decided to play with a shit tone of layers

Closer

Author: Mikala

Characters: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Word Count: 3,350

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex (please use protection, kiddos). Swearing. I think that’s it. 

Author’s Note: This is my first time writing Loki so I hope it’s good! Let me know what you think!

“Good evening, Loki,” you greeted, taking your usual seat on one of the couches in the living room. You were received with silence, just like you had been every day for the past three weeks. Huffing softly but indignantly, you tucked your legs beneath you, curling up against the arm of the otherwise empty couch. You dropped your attention to your book, opening it to where you’d last left off, but you couldn’t help stealing a few glances at the raven-haired trickster. He sat elegantly in an armchair that he’d pulled close to the glass wall, staring pensively into the distance outside.

Thor had brought his brother to the Tower in hope that the “Earth’s mightiest heroes” would be able to keep him under their watchful eyes, and maybe even have a good influence on him. So far, the latter part was futile; Loki hadn’t acted out at all, but he’d done nothing but brood in silence since he’d gotten here. Although, you could somewhat understand why—everyone else in the tower was either treating him with a cold shoulder, or making snide remarks to him in an attempt to rouse him up. You didn’t really understand what the point of provoking him was. You’d even attempted to break the ice with him, to no avail.

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Originally posted by lethalbarnes



Title: “Can I try on the Suit?” (Reader x Peter Parker)

Summary: A certain spider hero crawls into the confines and comfort of his own bedroom, not even realising that the reader has been waiting for him.

Word Count: 1536

A/N: OK I LOVE THIS A LOT! I’ve been working on it during my free time this week and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! :) 

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never enough (TKST one shot)

A/N: hello lovelies! here is a little blurb i wrote based on a prompt about post-VMAs sex with Shawn in his suit. that suit was hella hot so yeah, i couldn’t resist. this is a twist on that request and it takes place in the TKST universe, some time in the future of  their timeline! enjoy!! 

You didn’t go to the show with him because this thing you’ve got is still so fresh. Only a handful of people know, some of his friends and family, and some of yours, and it’s still too new to go public. You’re both still learning each other, even though you feel so easily comfortable with him already. 

But that just makes you want to protect this thing you’ve got with him from prying eyes even more, because you’ve never had anything quite like it. It’s safe but electric, surprises you yet comforts you. It’s never the same, but he always feels familiar to you for some reason. 

You think you could maybe love him. You just need time. And that means privacy, too. 

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My Boys (Part 2/3)

Steve Plus Size!Reader x Bucky

Author’s note- Here it is. Wow you guys this took a lot to write. Also the Gifs have nothing to do with this part other than the fact that they are hot sooo enjoy that lol

Summary- You wake up with a hangover and guess who’s there to take care of you and make sure you are all good for movie night? Yup Steve and Bucky.

Warning- language, and that’s all I can think of??? Maybe hung over Nat but come on we all love her. 

Word count: 1220

Originally posted by you-didnt-see-that-cuming

Originally posted by lolawinchesterr

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FILLED REQUEST: drink to that, a drunk date! au with kang daniel

pairing: kang daniel x reader
genre: fluff
summary:  You’re a low-tolerance fool crushing on a high-tolerance man.
warnings: alcohol consumption!! DRINK RESPONSIBLY
(this is like my third/fourth fic with alcohol LOL at some point i’m really going to write a ‘wanna one while drunk’ post HAHA anyway!! hope you enjoy <3)  

  • kang daniel is your cute seatmate in the history class you share
  • and you’ve never dated anyone??? before??
  • but when you watch his performance at the 90s throwback performance competition you decide you’ve got to do something about your crush
  • and by that you mean your long-time best friend kim jaehwan has to do something about your crush
  • jaehwan organizes a group hangout-date with his friends and yours
  • and daniel’s sitting beside you at the fast food place y’all decided to eat at before the night’s activities
  • he’s been trying to chat you up but you’ve been giving him monosyllabic answers, fiddling with your glasses nervously
  • because your friends chose a small table
  • and you’re crushed up against him
  • lord knows jaehwan doesn’t keep his elbows together
  • his thigh is against yours and really daniel is??? toned as hell
  • “Y/N, did you want—“
  • “I’m ok!”
  • “you don’t need tissue? you’ve got ketchup all over your arm”
  • “i’M oKaY”
  • you feel yourself blushing to the roots and you can’t look up at daniel
  • (you don’t see the fond smile on his face, how he bites his lip instead of reaching out to wipe the stain)
  • instead you turn to jaehwan and poke him in the ribs
  • “can’t you keep these chicken arms to yourself”
  • “yah, excuse me! i’d rather be home instead of here being your moral support,” he hisses, taking a fry from your plate
  • “you mean, at home and not making out with your hot roommate?”
  • jaehwan glowers at you for a bit before his face settles into an evil smirk
  • “daniel,” he says, “you might want to watch out for Y/N here because she might get flirty later after a drink or two”
  • kim jaehwan’s days are numbered
  • but first you have to rectify the situation because you’re at a loss for words
  • to your surprise, daniel laughs
  • “that’s cute,” he says, his top teeth prominent as he smiles, “i’m sure i have nothing to worry about, even if Y/N can’t hold her liquor”
  • instead of questioning his doubt that you’d flirt with him—you’d do it now if you weren’t so damn awkward—you can feel your nostrils flaring as you pout and say, “you think it’s funny??? i totally can!! i’ll match you later, beer for beer, shot for shot”
  • and jaehwan’s beside you, trying to call your attention
  • “wHAT”
  • “you’re making your rhino face again,” jaehwan says
  • while you’re relaxing your expression, he stands to lead the group to the next place
  • but he looks at daniel and says
  • “dibs on not carrying her drunk ass to her room”
  • you’re back to being quiet and questioning the decisions you make in life when daniel taps your arm
  • “come on, Y/N, you have to drink me under the table,” he says, and then
  • HE WINKS
  • you can’t look him in the eye as your group walks to the karaoke place a block away
  • (of course jaehwan wants a noraebang date lol he just loves to sing)
  • predictably
  • three beers and four shots later you’re feeling a little…reckless
  • when daniel takes the mic to rap, you cheer shamelessly
  • then you boop him on the nose with your index finger
  • before taking the mic from him, letting your fingers linger on his
  • you sing some big bang song, complete with some of the dance moves
  • jaehwan pulls you up before you can crawl on the floor to mimic seungri’s part
  • you’re deposited onto someone’s broad shoulders
  • “oh, hello, daniel!”
  • and your two hours at the place are apparently over?
  • (daniel let you off easy tbh he tried to drink as little as possible)
  • you’re all outside, but you’re not ready to go home yet
  • your grip on daniel’s wrist is firm as you pull him close
  • “i’m hungry!! let’s eat”
  • and jaehwan’s signaling at you but you’re still too hit to understand
  • you end up at a convenience store nearby, and you’re trying to bite through your four layers of pre-packed sandwich when you get to the corner where daniel’s sitting
  • he catches the bag you toss at him and looks closely to see it’s his a pack of his favourite gummies
  • “what’s this?”
  • “you’re always eating those in class when the prof isn’t looking,” you say through a mouthful of the giant sandwich
  • he smiles before reaching out, and your eyes go wide because you think he’s going to touch your face
  • but he just takes the end of the sandwich you hadn’t bitten into to show you that they’re two stacked sandwiches
  • you’re still too tipsy to feel shy so while he opens the pack of candy you’re telling him about your dreams
  • “and this history credit is just a stepping stone to latin honours though i love the class especially because you sit beside me and whenever you look lost i want to lend you my notes”
  • and daniel’s looking at you like he remembers you, suddenly
  • “you’re that groupmate who ended up rewriting what i sent for the report, aren’t you?” he says sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck
  • “yes,” you say carelessly, shrugging, “i was going to be mad at you because you were so good-looking and sweet that i knew you’d be an awful groupmate, but you obviously tried your best”
  • he goggles at you for a moment as you lick the crumbs off your fingertips, choking when you waggle your eyebrows at him
  • you wash your hands really quick before exiting the store with kang daniel in tow, the night breeze hitting you hard
  • “would you…” you say, poking daniel lightly in the (toned) stomach, “would you mind piggy-backing me home?” 
  • and in the light of bright convenience store sign you see him blush and hesitate
  • disappointed, you turn to walk in the direction of your dorms but he doesn’t follow
  • and when you turn around he’s glancing at you expectantly, crouched low
  • you run to him and pounce, your arms tight around his neck and your torso pressed carelessly against his back
  • practically purring in his ear, you nuzzle into his neck
  • and daniel’s hands shake because of how your body against his is making his belly do somersaults
  • “daniel”
  • “yes”
  • “let’s meet your cats today”
  • “okay”
  • and that’s how you, someone he barely knew twelve hours ago, end up on his living room couch, peter on your lap and rooney in your arms
  • daniel’s watching you from the floor, stroking peter absent-mindedly
  • “we have class tomorrow,” you whine, as if it’s not your fault you’re awake at god knows what time
  • “we do,” daniel says, grinning 
  • “kiss your kitties good night,” you say, holding rooney out to him 
  • daniel kisses her right above the eyes, then does the same when you lift peter to him
  • when both his cats are on the floor, nuzzling at your legs, you tiptoe and look at him with an eyebrow raised
  • “i won’t forget you,” he says gently, his slightly chapped lips brushing at your forehead lightly
  • you give him a big grin before tottering off to your room one floor down 
  • the next day, you wake up five minutes before class with a killer headache and many, many regrets
  • daniel’s looking at you when you slip in, and that’s when you recall exactly what you did last night
  • while the lecturer’s not looking, he hands you an aspirin and your glasses
  • “you left them at my place,” he says, and you nod silently
  • “your scarf’s with me, too, but i figured you might want to wear it on our next date?” 
  • when you turn your head quickly to look at him, he has a soft smile on his face, and his fingers are tapping lightly against his desk as if out of nervousness
  • “o-okay,” you say, and neither of you can keep from smiling throughout the rest of the session
  • jaehwan may be your good buddy, but soju’s the real matchmaker
What’s Mine Is Yours

Originally posted by luisafuchsluisa

Summary: Cas asks reader an interesting question that leads to something surprising…

Pairing: Dean x reader (x Cas)

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: smut (oral, threesome), language

A/N: Look what I found hiding in my drafts. Sharing is caring, am I right?…


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Close Quarters

Bucky x reader

Summary: Your day goes from bad to worse when your car breaks down after a messy mission and you end up stuck with the one team member you always fight with.

Warnings: swearing, arguing, self-doubt. a side character tries to get rough with you (they do not succeed, but it might still be tough to read).

Word Count: 3048. Wow.

A/N: This one has been sitting in waiting for a while. I’ve been really hesitant to post it because it’s different from everything else I’ve posted so far. I hope it’s okay.

Originally posted by ohh-bloodyhell

“I am blaming this disaster of a day fully on you,” the man in your passenger seat grumbled.

Great.

Not only was the mission way more complicated than it should’ve been, you were currently sitting helpless as your car slowed to a stop in the middle of nowhere. You thought you’d repaired the gas gauge but apparently it was only a temporary fix. So you just sat in the driver seat with a hurt expression as your car completely betrayed you by not telling you it was low on gasoline, leaving you stuck on some mostly deserted back road with the one team member you didn’t get along with.

“That’s not fair,” you said, glancing over as Bucky crossed his arms and slouched down in the seat.

“Life’s not fair, buttercup.”

You hated that he did that–called you names that would’ve been cute under different circumstances. Frustration bubbled up as you looked to your passenger seat. “Well maybe if you hadn’t been constantly griping over there, I might’ve noticed it had been a while since we last stopped.”

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Spinning

First Part: Brave
Second Part: Breathing Space                                                           Third Part: Plotting                                                                        Fourth Part: New Arrangement

Part 5 in my developing Roman/Virgil University!AU

Tag List:  @extremepenguin10@interstellarroadkill@jadorefreedom@flowersheep@helpimafangirlposts@imthenewproxy @isnt-that-wizard@panicitssammyanddean@serenity0092@ekkosoundspn@datonerougecookeh@intriguedslytherin@squashymoon-wink @thatdamfangirl12 @artidan @queensire@softbludemon @hopefullyalways @lucky-clover-cannot-hear-you@phanandothertrash @saltequeen @smiles-and-fandoms@faydedtruely @justanotherpurplebutterfly@thisimmortalnerd@dinohunter5904 @pippa-frost @viva-la-nordics @invisibleninjah@usernamestakewaytooeffinglong@scouttheoneandonly@cutecatwhiskers @xix-leiloves-xix@musicphanpie-b@shipperofallthings-vk @v-blue-writer@protaganope@onehundredphans @theatrenerd273 @phantom-opera@memelovingsun @huffletough @axapanda53@musiclover152002@pies-cakes-and-gays @silver-owl413 @ninja-kitty-more-like-no@cup-of-blue @crazymadredfox @eternal-sanders@deafchildcrossing @thisimmortalnerd@holdnarrytight @anxiousdepressedkid @fancifulfox @gracefullyinsanedancingunicorn @breckein-blog @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @finding-flanders

Also on ao3 here


They coordinate rehearsal times so that a few times a week, once Virgil’s lectures are finished, he knocks on Roman’s door. The first time he does so, Virgil hesitates, shifting from one foot to the other. What is he doing? It’s not difficult, just open the door and-

“Virgil? You can come in, I don’t bite!”

He opens the door, and finds Roman perched on a stool playing his electric keyboard. It’s an upbeat song- ragtime, Virgil recognises, after a beat. Roman glances at Virgil and grins, not stopping his playing.

“Hey! Make yourself at home.”

Virgil sits on the bed, crossed legged, and looks around. There’s a few more fairy lights pinned along the walls compared to the start of term. They give the room a comforting golden glow. Virgil bites back a laugh as he scans Roman’s ‘Disney wall’, noticing how he has written a tally chart next to his many posters.

“When are you going to stop?” he teases, nodding at the wall. “101?”

“Oh, ha, ha,” Roman drawls. “Think fast!”

Virgil ducks to avoid a sheaf of papers to the face. “Charming,” he says. He picks up the papers and turns them over to read ‘WICKED: THE MUSICAL’ in black embossed writing. “Oh, I read the script last night.”

He says it casually, and is surprised to see Roman’s face light up with delight.

“Really? The whole thing?”

Virgil shrugs. “Well, yeah. Wanted to have some idea of what’s going on.”

“You’re-” But, Roman doesn’t continue with whatever he was about to say. He just shakes his head and smiles, then clears his throat. “Anyway, it’s just to make sure I know my lines- so punch me if I try and peek.”

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CP bachelor AU: part 7

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

***

Laurent isn’t stupid enough to take someone like Jokaste entirely at her word. He sends Nicaise to talk to Kyrina, for corroboration, and doesn’t act immediately. For a few days he considers his options; there are benefits to knowing something that the person playing on the other side of the board isn’t aware of you knowing. There are ways to use a pawn against its master.

In the end, he decides to deal with it directly. Minimise the damage, and move on.

They’re filming at the house again. The eight remaining suitors are proving their domestic skills in what Laurent expected Damen to declaim as a celebration of archaic gender roles. However, it turns out that Damen has no objections given that four of them are male, and even Damen might be willing to let his taste buds override his conscience when it comes to chocolate cake.

Some of Halvik’s eclectic experience was on a cooking show, back in the nineties, so Laurent lets her handle most of the actual baking segments. When Laurent strides onto the set, Halvik has disappeared and Aimeric is overseeing the aftermath, which largely consists of Damen eating cupcakes while the suitors ‘accidentally’ get icing on their fingers and try to lick it off in Damen’s line of sight.

“Stop,” Laurent commands.

Filming grinds to a halt. Laurent directs his gaze pointedly to the huddle of giggles in the corner of the kitchen nearest the pantry; Kallias looks up from where he is, apparently, sifting icing sugar into Erasmus’s hair. Erasmus is flushed with laughter.

“Aimeric,” Laurent says, into the expectant silence. “You’re fired.”

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anonymous asked:

think about 18 year old yuuri who still hasn't outgrown all the baby fat, meeting phichit for the first time and phichit thinks he's the CUTEST hamster-cheeked boy ever and having one of those, oh-shit-im-super-gay moments. during finals when yuuri exercises less and eats more junk food he gets fluffier. once they're both done with papers and in that stress-hangover period phichit loves laying on the couch with him, kissing his tummy and thighs to relax and reward them both for surviving finals

Oh gosh imagine a Yuuri who’s in the tail end of puberty, fluffy cheeks and sides with shoulders that haven’t quite broadened yet. He’s soft but solid, a layer of chub protecting a toned abdomen, and softening sparking eyes. Phichit falls for him the moment he meets his roommate, expelling any questions he’d had about his sexuality. Phichit decided to play the long game when it came to Yuuri. No matter how much he liked him, he knew that not having him in his life would be unbearable, so forming a strong friendship came first. He wanted the relationship to form naturally, but Phichit also didn’t have any reservations trying to prod it along a little. Above all, he loved the feeling of Yuuri’s skin, delectably soft and smooth, and couldn’t help seeking contact whenever he could. He could tell Yuuri was in love with the touches as well, relaxing when he felt a hand at his shoulder and melting in to a puddle when Phichit ran his hands through Yuuri’s hair. He gets more daring as the year goes on, moving his hand to Yuuri’s side to run his thumb along the exposed skin there, pulling Yuuri into his lap when they watch movies, placing kisses at his temple and shoulder, casual butt squeezes. By the end of the year they are utterly comfortable with each other, and Phichit can’t help but sign with relief as he crawls between Yuuri’s legs and rests his head on that soft stomach. Phichit loved how Yuuri became just a bit fluffier from the unintentional stress eating, as it just made him all the more cuddly. He let his hands smooth along the skin of Yuuri’s sides, trailing his fingers higher up underneath the cotton of his shirt. Fingertips tracing along residual stretch marks while his lips sought to press kisses into the soft skin as well. A soft hum from Yuuri let Phichit know that he was loving the caresses as much as Phichit was. Phichit let his hands trace along all of his favorite bits of Yuuri, from his wonderfully thick thighs, to the meat of his ass, padded biceps and soft hair. He let his mouth continue to press kisses into Yuuri’s stomach, and found himself wandering higher up his torso as his hands did. After pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s neck, he made to kiss the tip of Yuuri’s nose, but was instead met with lips equally as soft as the rest of him

Works Everytime (Star Lord Reader Insert)

Anon Request: Could I please have a s,tut with y/n and peter quill having a pickup line contest until it starts getting touchy feely. (Ps could you please add a hand job for giggles c: I love your work btw

Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), hand job for giggles, tiny bit of dirty talk, peter calls reader a slut (but only once it’s okay)

Words: 1906

all these pick up lines are extremely cheesy and i want to die but enjoy lol

*****

“Did you sit in a pile of sugar? ‘Cause you have a sweet ass,” Peter comments, still pacing around the bunk like a mad person while you’re sat crisscross on his bed. Surprisingly, it’s not his worst one yet.

“Well, you’re slowly getting better,” you tell him, not looking up from his old, beat up Rubik’s cube that you’re struggling to solve.

For the past few days, Quill has been “testing” his infamous pick-up lines on you. They were all extremely lame and you’re honestly quite amazed that they worked on anyone ever.

It all goes back to when you guys were hitting up the local bar. Peter was doing his usual business of being completely skeevy. He’d spotted a girl he’d found particularly attractive and, keep in mind that these were from his tellings, apparently she was eyeing him pretty hard too. However, when he’d finally gone up to her and delved into his inner library of lines, she threw a drink in his face. You felt more bad that you weren’t there to see it rather than for the man himself. Although, you didn’t hesitate to bust out laughing when he came up to you drenched in pungent alcohol with a tiny, pink umbrella stuck in his hair and a sour expression.

Peter tried his luck again a day or so later and, while there were no tossing of drinks, he was deafeningly bitched out by a girl to the point where he physically had to leave the bar so she would stop. That was pretty awesome too.

Only thing was, it had completely crushed the deep faith he had in himself to be able to pick up chicks. That combined with him being sex-deprived was making him 10x more annoying and bitchy than usual. He would rant about how he swore he was cursed or something, but you reminded him that not every woman is always dumb and/or drunk enough to fall for his shit. Yet, that didn’t satisfy him and back in reality, he was still being just a tiny bit deranged.

“That’s bullshit. These are golden, like, you should really be writing these down,” he declares, half serious about his statement.

“Uh-huh, anyways…” You’re more focused on completing the cube to care about this whole situation. Any other person would be able to move on with their life but, for men with an ego like Peter’s, this was an utter travesty.

“I’m serious, (Y/N), these are great.”

“Mhmm.”

“What?” he asks incredulously, “You think you could do better?”

“Honestly? Yes.” Anything you could churn out would be better than what he’s delivering.

“Alright, go ahead. Hit me with one,” he eggs you on. Since Quill is obviously hellbent on not letting this go, you toss the cube to the side. You pause for a moment before meeting his eyes in what you hoped resembled a sexy gaze.

“Are you a racehorse? ‘Cause when I ride you, you’ll always finish first.” You want to cringe at your own words, but you remain confident.

“Not bad for a rookie,” he shrugs, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “But, (Y/N), lemme ask you a question: do you have a mirror in your pocket?”

“I don’t think so, why?” you say sarcastically, indulging him. Peter leans in close, his face only inches from yours. He lowers his eyes sinfully and lets his voice drop an octave as he speaks.

“Because I see myself in your pants.” There something in the air that shifts and tells you to push it further, so you let your hand rest high on his upper thigh, feeling his body heat radiating through his pant leg. His eyebrow quirks and his stare is hard, almost entirely not blinking. Your faces are incredibly close to the point where you suddenly have the urge to feel his mouth on yours. However, you’re more desperate to win this little contest.

“What are you doing tonight? Besides me?”

“Your clothes would look even better on my floor,” he shoots back.

“I wish you were soap so I could feel you all over me,” you remark slyly.

“Babe, are you an elevator? ‘Cause I want to go down on you.”

This back and forth goes on for a little longer until you decide to kick it up a notch. Your warm hand drifts slowly from his thigh to his slight bulge, letting your hand massage it gently. He maintains eye contact, but his eyes flutter slightly and you feel a puff of air fan against your face from his soft exhale. Your eyes automatically follow his tongue as it swipes at the corner of his mouth.

“Are you the delivery man?” you whisper, snapping the button open on his pants and dragging the zipper down slowly. Your fingers trace the v-line that’s etched into his hips before letting them slip past the waistband of his boxers, ultimately closing them around his undeniably hard cock. “Cause I think you have a package for me.”

Peter barely has time to smirk at your stupid words because you’ve begun stroking him mildly. Freeing him from his pants and underwear, you run your thumb over his tip, collecting the glistening pearl of pre-cum as a lubricant. His chest heaves up and down at a steady pace, his muscles clearly defined through the fabric of his shirt.

“You dirty cheater,” he says with a breathy chuckle. You bite down on your bottom lip, doing your best to hide your satisfaction. The light, almost whiny curses that fall from his lips are foreign and new to you. It wasn’t like you’d never heard him say “fuck” before, but it was either in an angry or joking tone. The way he muttered it under his breath followed by a low grunt spoke a thousand more words and they all said sex. “Shit, (Y/N).”

Picking up the speed, he groans and throws his head back. You take the opportunity to kiss his neck, leaving small bites and licks on his skin. With your free hand, you run your fingers through his hair and watch his fists clench in the sheets beneath you, his knuckles almost white and his eyebrows knit together. He’s a panting mess and, within moments, you feel him thicken in your palm. His jaw clenches and a grunt erupts from the back of his throat. Hot, stickiness coats the back of your hand and wrist and you feel yourself grow heated at the sight of him so unraveled.  

The hand of his that isn’t tangled in the sheets is balled in the fabric of your shirt that covers your lower back. When he finally relaxes, he slumps back against the bed with his cheeks a lovely shade of crimson. You kiss his jaw sweetly, get up to grab a random piece of cloth off the floor to wipe the sign of his pleasure off your skin. In some way, you feel victorious and smirk to yourself as the image of him coming undone replays in your mind. But that feeling of triumph is replaced with a slight fear as your hips are rapidly gripped and you’re thrown onto the bed like a football through a field goal.

“You wanna play nasty, huh?” Peter asks, gritting the words through his teeth as he tears through your layers. Your cotton shorts are ripped past your thighs so fast it leaves a bit of a burning sensation. He’s quick to remove your panties as well, the action taking mere seconds and spreads your legs aggressively. There’s something about his primal assertiveness that drives you 50 shades of crazy and you shiver as the cool air hits your core.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he mutters more to himself than you, for you can barely hear the words.

With one final, sinful wink, he buries his face between your legs. Your back immediately arches off the mattress as you take a sharp intake of breath. His tongue rolls against your core like a wave crashing against the shore, then slips it inside your heat forcing you to pull at your own messed hair. All you can manage are incoherent whimpers and whines and you could swear your eyes almost cross. His own devilish eyes meet yours, holding your gaze until you give up to throw your head against the pillow. It feels incredible, your body already beginning to twitch. Your legs threaten to close but he’s stronger and holds them in place, letting his fingers dig deep into your skin in order to do so.

“Fuck, just like that… Oh my God,” you groan, licking your lips.

Peter works you over a little longer until your body tightens, then you shudder all together. A warmth runs through your veins and an explosion is set off in your lower stomach. But he isn’t done with you yet.

Quill deftly pushes two fingers inside your wetness, filling you to his knuckle and wraps his lips around your clit. Your hips threaten to buck upwards, but he somehow manages to hold you still. Curling another finger inside you, he holds your leg up over his shoulder to get a better angle on your g-spot and strokes it with each pump of his fingers. You come again, a lot quicker than last time and you can’t help thinking ‘damn, he’s good.’

“You like that? Like me fucking you with my fingers?” he asks, knowing the answer by your pleasantly contorted expression. “Bet you want my cock instead.” You nod, letting your nails dig into his shoulder and your fingers pull at his hair.

Your calling his name over and over like it’s a damn prayer. Even though you probably should, you don’t care who hears it. Because now, you’re working on your third orgasm. Your body’s a quivering mess and every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire. And- oh! There it is again!

He helps you ride it out, letting you roll yourself against his face and you’re breathless once you’ve returned from your high. Your body feels like goo, as if you could melt right into the mattress. You don’t feel Quill slide up next to you until you feel his lips press against the corner of your jaw and, without looking at him, you can feel that his cockiness is back in full effect.

“Little slut likes her pussy eaten, huh? How many times did you come, baby?” he asks, arrogance dripping with each word. His grin is especially evident against your skin and you almost want to smack it off of him. But, for some reason, you’re grinning too.

“Shut up,” you order breathlessly whilst trying to manage the mass of mess that is your hair.  His hands wander under your shirt, trailing up to cup your breast. If it was even possible, he grins even wider when he feels you have no bra on and rolls your sensitive nipple between his fingers. Your back raises ever so slightly as he pulls at the soft bud, heat threatening to pool between your legs once more.

“C’mon, tell me.”

“Three,” you answer, you voice much more breathier and whiny than you anticipated. “You happy now, Star Lord?”

“Mhmm, told you those lines are golden,” he brags, not too long after sucking a deep mark on the spot below your ear that you know someone will blatantly point out later. “Works everytime.”

pipe dreams (part two)

pairing: reader x yoongi

summary: you’re the girl yoongi left behind to pursue his music career. flash forward seven years, and you’re a lawyer representing a company suing bighit for copyright infringement. what happens when yoongi is still harboring feelings for you?

⏎previous chapter // next chapter✏︎

a/n: i felt a surge of inspiration for a poet!yoongi au but i also remembered this series so now i’m writing this part :) honestly, yoongi is an endless muse for me. also, let’s just pretend that opposing lawyers question defendants in this way blah blah you know the whole deal on “I don’t know how the legal system fucking works in explicit detail”  

Originally posted by yoongichii


—-

The universe must be playing some kind of cruel joke on you.

Your breath catches in your throat as Min Yoongi takes a seat. You blink rapidly, unsure of if the sight of your ex-boyfriend was a figment of your imagination. Maybe you were so tired that you were having hallucinations.

Nope.

This Yoongi was real, and sitting down at the same table you were seated at.

How long had it been since you’d even seen Yoongi, let alone been in a room with him? It has to have been at least five years since you’d snuck glimpses of him playing basketball by the river.

Time has done wonders for him, and you can only hope he thinks the same of you. His hair is dyed a grey tone, falling in wispy strands slightly above his eyes.

He’s wearing all black, layering a long sleeve underneath a short sleeve. His style preference for black seems to have remained intact throughout the years.

Something different that jumps out at you is the row of piercings on his ears. Small silver hoops adorn his ears, and you bite your lip as you take them into account. That was something you’d always found insanely attractive; Jaebum had had them in his college years, too.

You soon realize Yoongi has detected your staring. His eyes widen at the sight of you, something frantic appearing in his eyes, only to quickly subside again.

Clearing your throat, you collect yourself and wait for everyone’s attention to land on you.

“H-hello, everyone.” You mentally curse at yourself for stuttering. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m the attorney representing TF Entertainment in the case ‘TF Entertainment v. BigHit Entertainment’. I’m not going to say it’s a pleasure to meet you because I’m sure you don’t feel that way as you’re tangled up in a lawsuit right now. So let’s skip those formalities and just move on to my questioning. I’m simply going to ask you to identify yourselves and then briefly question your roles so that I can determine who I will need to meet with again.”

You look pointedly at Jinyoung, who is seated next to you in the first spot along the table. He hands you a crisp paper with the names of the group members and songwriters present at the moment.

Jinyoung looks the part of a lawyer, one hundred percent. If you had to guess what profession he was, you would’ve guessed lawyer. The way he carries himself can only be described as refined and polished. He’s adorned in a charcoal grey suit and silver wire-framed glasses, and it seems as if he wears dress shirts and loafers even on his days off. All in all, he exudes confidence and sophistication.

Briefly scanning the list, you begin by questioning the songwriters, determining that they all require further examination.

Moving on to the group members, you pause as you read the first name to yourself.

Min Yoongi.

Deciding to delay the discomfort for as long as possible, you skip to the next name inked on the page.

“Park Jimin?”

“Yes?” Jimin gives you a genuinely sweet smile, catching you off guard. Each person before him has regarded you with a sense of defiance or apathy. You were, indeed, the enemy here.

“What role did you play in the creative process?”

He details what he did, and you cast him as a minor role in the disputed situation, crossing him off the list.

Kim Taehyung, Kim Seokjin, Jeon Jungkook, and Jung Hoseok are excused from further questioning. The only member thus far that has been labeled as a major role is Kim Namjoon.

Tapping your foot nervously, you gulp before reading the last name.

“Which one of you is Min Yoongi?” He’s the only person left unidentified in the room, so the question is meaningless.

Flicking his hand up, he gives you a dull stare, remaining silent.

Doing your best not to look flustered, you interrogate him.

“My briefings state that you played a heavy role in the creative process. Is that correct?”

Yoongi nods again, not uttering a word in response.

“Correct?” You repeat, cocking an eyebrow as you look daringly into his eyes.

“Yes.” He finally says firmly.

“So you were the one directly involved with this particular stolen melody and the lyrics? You claimed them as your own, I mean.”

His jaw clenches, and you can see his knuckles turning white as he strengthens his grip on the side of the table.

“I didn’t steal jack shit.” Yoongi mumbles under his breath, but it doesn’t escape your notice.

“Excuse me?” You turn your head to look at Jinyoung, who looks exacerbated. “Mr. Park, are you going to sit back and allow your client to speak to me like this?”

“Mr. Min, please answer the question and remain civil. No one is accusing you of anything.” Jinyoung folds his hands together on the table, warning Yoongi.

“At least not just yet.” You say spitefully. “Well, Min Yoongi, I’m going to have to arrange for further questioning.”

Closing your folder, you stand up swiftly, smoothing your skirt down.

“I’ll look forward to seeing some of you again when we meet again for further questions. If not, well…I’ll see you in court.”

And with that, you spin on your heel and leave the conference room first. On your way out, you stop by the bathroom. You touch up on your makeup, feeling rather accomplished as things had gone according to the game plan despite the surprise of seeing Yoongi. You’re off for the rest of the day and Joy has made plans for your friend group to come over to her place tonight.

Pulling your phone out, you type a quick text to Joy as you’re walking out of the restroom to let her know you’re finished with work.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone is leaning against the wall.

Jumping a little, you feel your heart stops beating when you recognize it’s Yoongi. One foot is propped nonchalantly against the wall and his arms are crossed over his chest as he smirks at you.

“Do you need something, Mr. Min?” You quickly plaster your professional front on again.

“Mr. Min now, is it?” He pushes himself off the wall. “You never called me that when we were dating. I didn’t know you were into that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Perhaps you have the wrong person.” You make an effort to leave, but he pulls you back by the wrist.

“Y/N Y/L/N. How could I forget you? You look virtually the same, but you’ve grown more beautiful, if that was even possible.”

You don’t respond, looking down at your shoes and trying to conceal the lump in your throat.

“I see you fulfilled your dreams of becoming a lawyer. Congratulations.” He continues.

“T-Thank you.” You mutter. “You too.”

“You didn’t know I was going to be here today, huh? Not a fan of BTS, I’m assuming. I’m going to forgive the fact that you blatantly accused just me of stealing someone else’s work when you know that I would never do such a thing. Just like you, I have too much pride. I thought you knew that, Y/N.” His subversive insult stings as you feel old wounds opening again.

“I didn’t know you were in BTS. I never head your name or Gloss anywhere, so I thought you didn’t make it.” You state plainly, trying to dodge an argument. It seems to be effective as his expression dulls down slightly, eyes softening into something friendlier.

“Yeah, well I don’t go by Gloss anymore. My stage name is Suga now. Or Agust D.”

Oh. You had definitely heard those names before, and you guess you had just never made the connection.

“Okay, great, congratulations. Listen. You can’t tell anyone we used to date. I just started handling my own cases at this new firm and this is only my second case. I can’t afford to lose it just because I used to date one of the accused in high school for fuck’s sakes.” You whisper forcefully.

“Don’t worry, babe. I can keep a secret.” Yoongi winks playfully.

Flinching, you blurt out, “Don’t call me that.” The word has been ruined forever by one Im Jaebum.

Yoongi’s eyes widen, rather shaken by your sharp response, but he doesn’t protest.

“Listen, it’d be nice to catch up sometime, don’t you think? For the sake of old times. Do you still have the same number?” Yoongi wipes his palms on his pants, gazing genuinely into your eyes.

You nod before you can think twice about it.

No, Y/N. This is crossing the line. You can’t meet up with Yoongi. It’s incredibly unprofessional.

However, another part of you is curious to know what Yoongi has been up to these past years. Besides, it can’t hurt if no one knows it happens.

Yoongi is practically beaming at your agreement. “Okay, so I’ll text you tonight or something. If that’s okay with you?”
“Sure.” You purse your lips. “I have somewhere to be, so I’m going to head out now. See you.”

“Bye, Y/N. It was nice seeing you today. I’m glad.”

Yoongi’s words echo in your head as you travel to Joy’s apartment.

He’s glad? Your relationship hadn’t exactly ended in the friendliest manner. Perhaps Yoongi understands that it was puppy love. That’s what it was, right? Puppy love?

If he was willing to put the past behind, you would do the same. After all, you were both adults now, and working together in a sense. Maybe it was for the best that you started with a clean slate.

Knocking on Joy’s door, your shoulder slump as you feel yourself deflating as a result of tiredness.

“Finally, you’re here. I’ve been bored out of my mind. No one else has come yet.” Joy pouts, pulling you in hurriedly.

You kick your shoes off, plopping yourself on her couch exasperatedly.

“So how was it? Did you meet Bangtan? Were they as dreamy as they seem?” Joy is squealing like a teenage girl. She had practically cyber stalked them once she found out you were taking on their plagiarism case, claiming it was “research” for your benefit as she scrolled through endless photos of the group. Instead of giving you useful information, she’d just screamed to you over the phone about how hot they were after a sleepless night of binging their music videos and dance practices.

“This case is all over the news, by the way. I bet you’re going to get a kickass raise if you win this!” She adds.

“Joy…” You groan, stuffing your face into a pillow. “Yoongi is in Bangtan.”

Joy almost falls out of the armchair she’s perched in.

“WHAT?”

Biting your lip, you look up, nodding.

“Fuck.” She mutters. “Which one is he?”

“Suga.” You crinkle your nose.

“WHAT?” Joy is yelling again. You shush at her, motioning for her to calm down. She doesn’t listen, instead screaming again. “Min Suga is your Min Yoongi? Your high school ex, first love, Min Yoongi?”

You close your eyes, wincing at the loud volume of her voice.

“He’s so amazing, Y/N! How did you not know your ex-boyfriend was in Bangtan? They’re fucking huge! Do you live under a rock? And damn, that boy is COOL. He’s so talented and writes music and produces!” Joy rambles.

“No way, Joy. He can’t be that famous. Name one song I know that he’s produced.”

“That Suran song you were obsessed with.” Joy gives you a knowing look.

Your jaw drops.

“No way.” You had listen to that song on repeat for weeks, prompting Joy to threaten to never speak to you again if you played that song one more time in her presence.

“Yes way.”

You’re still processing this when the doorbell rings, and Joy gets up to let them in.

“I brought wine!” Mark holds up a few bottles of wine, looking victorious.

Wendy and Kyungsoo follow closely behind, clutching boxes of pizza tightly against themselves.

“Wow, nothing like the sophisticated beverage of wine to pair with cheap, greasy pizza.” Wendy sighs, plopping her box down on the table.

“Hey, you gotta get what you can out of life.” Kyungsoo declares, giving you a smile in greeting.

You all gathers around Joy’s dining table, where she already has glasses and plates set up.

“Bon appetit, everyone.” Joy proclaims, and you all dig in.

Moaning as you take your first bite of pizza, you close your eyes.

“No matter how much money I make, how is pizza is still the best food money can buy?”

Kyungsoo laughs as he pours you a glass of wine. You thank him, swirling it around before you take a small sip.

“How’s work?” He makes small talk with you.

“Tiring, but going well for the most part. How about you?”

“Fine. Just preparing for a comeback, so I’ve been doing dance practices day and night, and you know how I feel about dancing.” Kyungsoo grimaces.

“Not your favorite pastime, I know.” You giggle. A thought suddenly crosses your mind. Kyungsoo was an idol. He probably knew Yoongi, right?

“Say, Kyungsoo, do you happen to know Suga?” You blurt out the question, mentally face palming as you see his expression shift.

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at you over his glass of wine. “Since when are you a Bangtan fan?”

“No, it’s nothing. I just wanted to know because I’m working on that case, remember?” You direct his suspicions elsewhere.

“Oh. I don’t know him well, but some of my members are pretty close with a couple of the BTS boys. Suga seems to keep to himself for the most part but I’ve heard good things about him. He’s really passionate about his music and he definitely works his ass off.” Kyungsoo explains. “Why so interested in him in particular, though? Anything I should know?”

“No, it’s nothing.” You deflect his question abruptly, lying through your teeth. “Just thought he might be difficult to work with or something based off of first impressions.”

Kyungsoo seems to accept this explanation, letting the issue slide.

“There’s this charity gala I’m going to this weekend, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.” He poses casually.

You furrow your brow. Was Kyungsoo asking you out right now?

He seems to notice your reluctance and quickly adds, “Woah, woah, hold your horses. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I’m not asking you out if that’s what you’re thinking right now.”

You let out a deep breath. “Phew. I was starting to think maybe you had a little crush on me or something, D.O.” You tease, jutting your elbow out at him playfully.

“No offense, Y/N, but I would never.” He sticks his tongue out in feigned disgust. “That’d be like dating my sister.”

“Wow, Kyungsoo. It hurts to be friendzoned, I know, but sisterzoned? How will I ever go on?” You place a hand over your heart, pretending to be devastated by his words.

He laughs, taking a huge bite of his pizza.

“So are you down or not?” His voice is muffled by the food in his mouth, eyes peering innocently at you.

“Sure, I’m in. I’ve never been to one of those. It could be fun, right?” You shrug.

“Yeah, it’ll be nice not to go alone for once. All the members always make fun of me for going alone, so I thought it’d be a nice change to bring someone this time around.” Kyungsoo crinkles his nose cutely.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you briefly consider ignoring it before you remember that Yoongi had promised to text you. Your heart is racing in your chest and you feel as if you’ve been transported back to high school again.

Quickly, you hold a short conversation with him over text message, making plans to go get coffee tomorrow to catch up. If you had spent any longer on your phone, Joy would’ve definitely complained and asked a million questions about who was so important that you were ignoring your friends.

When you look up again, Kyungsoo is laughing with Wendy over something stupid she’d done at work today, and Mark and Joy are fighting over what movie to watch.

“Let’s watch Star Wars.” Mark shoves a DVD at Joy.

“No! It doesn’t make sense to watch that because literally none of us have seen the other movies before. We can’t just watch something because you want to, Mark.” Joy hisses. The wine seems to have taken its effect on them, as the small issue is escalating to an unnecessary degree.

“Guys, let’s calm down.” You step in, pushing them away from each other. Their protests die down eventually, until you speak again.

“I’m deciding what movie. And it’s this one.” Waving a DVD around, you declare this.

Immediately, the ruckus arises again.

“What?” Joy spits.

“No, Y/N, no one likes that stupid comedy!”

——

You’re late.

In fact, you’re incredibly, unbelievably late.

You had made plans with Yoongi to meet at 9am, but you woke up at 8:45, forgetting to set an alarm after collapsing in your bed due to one too many glasses of wine at Joy’s last night.

Scrambling to look presentable, it took you twenty minutes to get ready and you’d shot a text over to Yoongi, apologizing for being late. You told him you’d be ten minutes late, but what should have been a five minute cab ride is quickly turning into ten. Traffic is acting up for some odd reason and you hit all the red lights, as it always seems to happen when you’re running late for something important.

Opting to pay your driver and hopping out prematurely, you run the rest of the way to the coffee shop, panting and breaking out into a light sweat as a result. Cursing under your breath, you pull the doors open to the cafe, cool air-conditioned air rushing to bring you slight relief. If you were Yoongi, you would’ve left by now. It seemed as if you didn’t value him enough to try to rebuild a friendship after all these years.

Eyes darting around the room brusquely, you locate him in the farthest corner of the room, adorned in a black baseball cap and printed button up. His eyes are glued to the table, fingers tapping along to the song playing in the coffee shop. Once you get closer, he looks up at you amusedly, taking in your flustered appearance.

“I’m so, so sorry, Yoongi. There was traffic, and I overslept. I was drinking last night, I’m so sorry—“

Yoongi cuts you off. “It’s fine, Y/N. I’ll forgive you this once.” He smirks teasingly at you, and relief floods through your body. He pushes a drink towards you, gesturing for you to take a sip.

“Oh, thank you so much!” You fumble around in your purse for money, but realize you only have your credit card after paying the driver with the remainder of your cash. “I’ll pay you back! I don’t have cash right now, but I’ll buy you food sometime or something, I promise. God, I’m a mess right now.” You rest your forehead in your palm, exhaling loudly.

Yoongi pulls at your forearm, causing your head to slip from its position resting against your hand.

“It’s fine, Y/N. Calm down. Are you nervous around me?”

You swear your heart flutters faintly when you feel his fingers digging lightly into your skin.

“A-a little, I guess.” You admit sheepishly. “It’s just been so long since I’ve seen you.”

“I missed you.” He blurts out accidentally, avoiding eye contact as he awkward rubs the back of his head, pretending to adjust his cap.

“I missed you, too.” You twirl your straw around, blushing.

Yoongi looks back at you surprisedly, a proud smile blooming on his face.

“So tell me, Y/N. What have you been up to in the past few years?”

You tell him everything. It all spills out of your mouth so eloquently, as if you’d rehearsed these stories of what life was like without him, as if you’d been waiting to tell him what he’d missed out on.

“How about you?” You conclude.

“Well, I trained for a bit and then we debuted a few years later. It’s been a wild ride, honestly, and it hasn’t always been easy. In fact, it’s rarely ever been easy.” He sighs. “But it’s been worth it, I can tell you that. Sleep is something I’d willingly give up for my dream, you know? I love what I do, and I wake up every morning unsure if it’s all real.”

You find a lot of truth in that, his words resonating with you as you feel the same way about how your own career has progressed thus far.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi nods in response your question. “Why did you change your stage name to Suga?”

“I didn’t choose it myself, but I thought it was pretty decent so I just went with it. When your boss says to change your name, you do it. He claims it’s because I’m sweet and pale.” Yoongi seems embarrassed by this.

“That’s cute.” You coo reassuringly.

“I’m not exactly going for a cute image, Y/N.” He gives you a knowing look.

“Well you are cute. You’ve always been cute. You can only pretend for so much of the time.” You tease, looking into his eyes.

It feels like time stops for a moment, and the two of you sit there silently, simply smiling at one another. Yoongi has so much warmth in his eyes, something sentimental twinkling beneath the surface. Your mind still hasn’t wrapped itself around this whole situation. Here he was again, Min Yoongi. Sitting in front of you, holding you by your wrist, buying you coffee…

Holding you by your wrist.

Yoongi’s hand is still gently wrapped around your lower arm, encasing it as your hands rest on the tabletop. Suddenly feeling hyperaware of his touch, you wiggle around in your seat, feeling a rush of blood go to your face.

“I missed your blushing. That’s always been my favorite color. The hue your cheeks turn even when I do the smallest thing.” Yoongi’s voice is huskier than before, as if he’s holding something back.

You’re wordless, biting your lip as you keep your gaze focused on his hand around your wrist.

“Tell me, Y/N. I’ve been wondering something this whole time. Did you ever blush like this for anyone else?” He pauses. “Have you been seeing someone else?” Yoongi looks bashful, although his words come out somewhat confidently.

You grimace at the thought of Jaebum.

“There was someone else for awhile. For about a year or so. But not anymore.”

Yoongi purses his lips at your revelation.

“Actually, I already knew that.” He confesses. “I would always see when you posted pictures with him.”

“Ah, you did?” You breathe out.

“It really hurt to see that you’d moved on. And with someone I had never seen before, someone you’d known for way less time than you’d known me. It was like every time he commented ‘You’re so pretty’ or ‘I love you’ he was mocking me, laughing at me.”

You don’t say anything so Yoongi continues.

“You don’t know how many times I was ready to press ‘call’. How many times I would scroll through your likes and look at each guy’s profile. How many times I thought about how much prettier you had gotten. Hell, I even wrote a song about it. I thought you would’ve heard it, that you would’ve known I was in Bangtan, but that was kind of cocky of me to assume. I guess I wanted to show you up, to prove you wrong. That was what I had engrained in my mind the whole time I was training. Yet, we’ve had so much success and I still didn’t feel right, because I realized that I don’t want to show you up. I want you to be by my side, to come along for the ride.” A rush of words explodes from Yoongi’s mouth, and he grimaces afterwards, peering up at you shyly through his lashes.

Frozen, you absorb his words bit by bit. He seems to be waiting for you to say something back to him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to support you. I thought about our last fight over and over again. I couldn’t sleep for weeks, tossing and turning over what I should’ve said. We were so young back then, and I was so stupid to let you go without a fight. I’m sorry, Yoongi. You deserved so much better.” Subconsciously, you allow your head to fall downwards again, frowning as you feel intense regret wash over you instantaneously.

A sudden cold sensation meets your skin. Yoongi’s fingers are on you, pushing your chin up as he cups your face in his hands.

“Look at me, Y/N. I didn’t fight for you either. I felt so lost for so long, so awfully lonely. After you were gone, I realized I didn’t have anyone to confide in. You were my anchor.”

Trembling uncontrollably, you allow your eyes to trickle towards his. His face is set in pure determination. His eyes are endlessly deep, swirling with emotions.

Your trance is broken by the jarring sound of your phone vibrating on the wooden table. Simultaneously, the both of you look towards your lit-up screen.

Do Kyungsoo is calling.

Biting your lip in frustration, you glance apologetically at Yoongi.

“Sorry, I’ll call him back later. It’s probably nothing important.” You shrug it off.

“No, we should probably get going anyways. I have to be back in the studio soon, so we should take that as a wake-up call. I’ll walk you out.” Yoongi flashes a reassuring smile at you, grabbing his wallet off of the table. Nodding, you follow him out of the cafe.

The two of you stand rather awkwardly next to the street, and Yoongi’s fingers are tapping incessantly against his thighs, a telltale sign that he’s nervous.

Hesitantly, he looks at you. “I really needed today. Thank you.”

Pulling you into a hug, his voice is muffled.

“I’m glad you’re in my life again, Y/N.”

Speechless, you nod gently against him, feeling jittery at his confession. He pulls back slightly, and tugs his cap off of his head.

“Your hair is a mess.” You laugh, trying to smooth strands of his hair down.

“I can’t kiss you with that dumb hat on.”

Your eyes widen, and before you know it, Yoongi’s lips are softly pressed against yours. Your body heats up in a way it hasn’t in so long. The feeling is familiar yet foreign all at once. It takes a few seconds for you to grow accustomed to the sensation again, just like slowly remembering the words to a song you used to love.

It’s only when you’re both rendered thoroughly breathless that Yoongi breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as he pants. His eyes are frantically searching yours for something, a hint that you were okay with that kiss. As hard as you try to, you can’t help but feel a grin break out onto your face as you blush a deep shade of pink.

“There’s that pretty color again.” Yoongi’s breath is hot against your face, and he pushes away from you again, hand seeking yours. You’re speechless, still breathing heavily and basking in the tingling that had spread throughout your body.

“Go to work, Min Yoongi. I’ll see you around.” You tease, stepping away from him. More seriously, you add in a small voice, “I enjoyed today.”

A grin identical to yours manifests itself on Yoongi’s features as he shoves his hat back on and reluctantly tugs his hand away from yours, turning to hail a cab for you before embracing you one last time, letting you leave on the one condition that the two of you would do this again soon.

You press your back into the crinkly leather of the cab, sighing deeply.

Yoongi is back.

This reality hits hard.

Hand reaching up to brush your lips, you hold a smile back as you recall the warmth that seeped through your body at his kiss. Swarming storms of butterflies, stamping herds of buffalo running through your stomach, wreaking havoc. You felt like you had felt when you first fell in love with Min Yoongi all those years ago.

Trust Yoongi to reappear and ruin the pace you had set so neatly for your life.

Can you let yourself fall back into the abyss that is loving Min Yoongi?

You know that if you let yourself become involved with him again it would eat you whole. There was no telling how deeply you can love Yoongi, if there is a limit at all.

No.

You have worked so hard to build this career for yourself. You can’t let yourself ruin it all by becoming attached to the same man who had left you in ruins before.

Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, shame on me, right?

—-

a/n: okay so shit is gonna get super real in the next part. i hope u liked my description of jinyoung; he honestly is so fuckin polished and sophisticated all the time, i have mad respect for him. he’s such a cutie pie. also can u see my baseball cap yoongi kink here??

3

Let’s Christmas! 🎄☃

Inspired by @book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure:
2. Sneaking out in the middle of the night with _____ to play in the snow.
Request from @daughterofautumn.

Words: 1699
Warnings: none

Keep reading

Lighten Up

Summary: Dean and the reader’s relationship is strained because of the Mark of Cain. He decides to make the reader have some Winter fun.

Pairing: MOC!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,334

Request by: @chaos-and-the-calm67


“Who ate all my Oreos?” You whine dramatically moping into the bunker’s library.

“Guilty.” Sam chuckles making you smile and roll your eyes at the handsome dork. You then glare at Dean who’s purposely ignoring you as he plays some stupid game on his iPhone.

“Not cool, Dean!” You shout loudly making his head snap in your direction.

“If only there was a magical place that you could drive to that has cookies for sale. It’s a shame there are no more cookies left in this world.” He mocks you.

“Keep it up, Winchester. I’m close to throwing all of your junk food out then replacing it with fruits and vegetables!”

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Alicia is P.O.T.U.S - Camilla <3 Jack

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6Part 7

Camilla slides into the back of the town car and kisses his cheek.  It’s a loud smacking press of her lips against his skin that leaves a tacky outline of her dark red lipstick behind.  Jack tries to wipe it off but her grin tells him he’ll be walking into the restaurant with a fading maroon smear on his face.

“You’re welcome.” She says.

Jack makes a tutting noise but it’s too fond.  “How are you?”

“So formal Zimms.” She bats her eyelashes at him.  “I’m fine, tired, but fine.” Jack waits for it and she sags against him, “I have something to tell you.  I’ve-“ She stops abruptly.  “Who’s driving?”

“Polowski.” He grimaces.

They spend the rest of the ride in companionable quiet.  Jack asks after her parents (”They’re driving me nuts but I still find myself loving them”) she doesn’t ask after his and he’s grateful.  The restaurant is the expensive kind that Jack has always taken for granted. It lacks the intimacy of the Turkish place from lunch but there is an equal anonymity here that you can only get when you know you’re in a dining room full of famous and notable people who’d rather they weren’t bothered…or who at least play it that way.  There’s a bit of a to do going on to their left as they walk up towards the back where surrounding partitions don’t quite make a wall but are as good as.  Camilla rubbernecks because she’s always been nosey and when she looks back Jack finds himself looking curious.

“Oh it’s that actress from…” she trails off with a small laugh, “Forget it, you don’t watch tv.”

“Unless she died like seventy years ago I wouldn’t know.” He chuckles.

Camilla laughs some more and an indelicate snort escapes her.

“Shall I have some wine sent over?”

Jack declines but Camilla orders a large glass of the house wine.  She doesn’t let the maître d’s surprise bother her.  Jack has always been envious of Camilla’s confidence. She’s been navigating the world of politics far longer than Jack but rather than be cowed under the weight of what the world expects she rises above it, punching through the layers of propriety so that she can sit on top and do what she wants.

What she wants includes drinking wine that’s less expensive than she’s expected to like.

“What do I care?” She shrugs when Jack gives her a look that says he saw the whole thing and still finds it funny.  “I just want to get drunk.  I’d ask for an alcopop if I thought they had it.” 

“They’d probably make an exception for you you know.”

Camilla snickers, “Oh yeah my father would love that exclusive, ‘VP’s daughter came to fancy restaurant but drank like a scrub.”

“You’re saving the American tax payers money”

“I don’t think they’ll see it like that.”

“I’ll only ruin it by ordering the steak.”

“You and your stomach are going to break this country,” she teases, “If your ass doesn’t first.”

“Stop.” He groans.

“I can’t, I’m sorry. It’s huge.”

Jack goes red, “It is not.” He mumbles.

“I’m just asking do you really need all that padding on the ice when you’ve got plenty of junk in the ol’ trunk?”

Jack closes his menu. He orders a variation on the same thing in every place like this.  “How about instead of talking about my ass-“

“Your literal earth shattering ass-“

“Cammy,” He exasperatedly pushes on, “What were you going to tell me earlier?”

“Oh,” her smile flickers before coming back full watt, “it was nothing.  Just shelter drama, donors, publicity, all that shit.”

Jack peers at her.  There’s something wrong with her face.  It doesn’t match her voice.  “You sure?”

“Yeah.  Speaking of publicity I heard you’re getting a social media manager?”

Jack grumbles, “I am not getting a social media manager.”

- - - -

Camilla makes a show of asking “Your place or mine?” when they get in the car.  Jack quietly recommends his.  They travel back in the same condition that they travelled there; quietly.  If anyone was to ask he’d just say he was too full of food to function but in reality he prefers this relaxed silence.  Camilla stretches over and takes his hand bringing it to the middle where she just rests their linked fingers.  It’s a hold of comfort, of thanks for a nice evening, of I love you.  He wonders if Polowski is ever surprised that nothing more than this ever happens in the back seat.

They don’t say anything until they’re safely tucked away in ‘his’ bedroom.  “I’m glad no one expects the presidential family to be big into public displays of affection.”

Camilla puts her hand on her chest, her mouth open in exaggerated offense, “Is kissing me really such a chore?” She pouts, “I’m a catch.”

Jack grins, “Of course you are.”

“We’re the perfect pair Zimm’s.  The president’s son and the vice president’s daughter? We were fated.  The love story writes itself.” She sighs whimsically.

Jack thought it seemed more like a cliché.  “Well at least I don’t have to date around anymore.” He takes off his tie throwing it with vindictive carelessness across the room.  His shoes follow the same fate but he takes care with his jacket as it’s part of his game day suit collection.  He balls up the shirt however and pitches it across the room where it floats to a silly stop in the middle.

“You didn’t enjoy your ‘bachelor days’?” She air quotes.

Jack gives her a dry look, “Thank you for taking pity on me.”

Camilla collapses on the bed and taps the space next to her for Jack to do the same.  Their fingers brush and he threads them together.  “It was my solemn duty as your fellow queer to save you from more terrible matches.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” A pause and then, “But if you did have to choose who was your worst date?”

Jack takes a moment to think about it, then another to think about whether it’s fair to talk about the girls who were roped into going out with him like they had any more choice in it than he did.  Then he decides that it’s just him and Camilla here and she’s smiling at him mischievously and it feels nice to play after the morning he’s had so he lets himself indulge in a little bitchy behaviour.  “Shannon.”

Camilla gasps in recognition, “Wait wasn’t she the one who liked horses-“

“She was obsessed with Horses.” Jack corrects her with a groan. “All Horse, all the time.  She didn’t even want to go out with me, I think she was just passing time while the stables were closed over winter when there was that really bad snow.  She was nice though.” And even if she hadn’t been interested in anything Jack was, she hadn’t made him feel like a bore like some of his dinner partners.

“She seemed nice.”

Something in Camilla’s tone makes Jack turn his head and something more in the way she holds her lips makes him ask, “You didn’t.  Did you?”

Camilla’s ensuing guilty smile is devoid of all repentance, “I like a good bit of reverse cowgirl.”

Jack sputters, “Cammy!”

Camilla cackles and Jack finds himself infected with her laughter.  It isn’t even that funny but it feels so good to do that he doesn’t try to stop.  When the giggles simmer down to hiccups and breathless sighs they’ve both got tears leaking down their temples.

“You should do that more often.”

“What? Seduce other people’s dates?”

Camilla rises up on her elbow to smiles kindly down at him, “No, smile.”

Jack turns on his side, “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

“I know, but I do. I’m such a misery lately.”

“You’ve had a lot on your plate.” She scratches her nails softly up and down his bicep, “The seasons starting up again, you’ve got to travel with a permanently sunglassed entourage…your mum’s running for re-election.  Yeah I heard about that.”

Jack suspects she heard before him too and his sigh comes all the way from the soles of his feet. “I wanted to come out.” He confesses in a small voice.

Her hand stops. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.” Camilla sits up, “I mean, wow Jack.  That’s a- that’s a big deal.”

He knew it was a big deal but hearing her say it like that makes him nervous all over again.  “I know.” Even though he agrees with her Camilla’s giving him a look that says he mustn’t know or he wouldn’t be considering it. “I was going to wait until we were out of the house and then I was going to tell them I wanted to tell the world I was gay.  I stupidly thought that my days of waiting were over.” That’s why he’s been such a miserable son of a bitch.  He let his hope get the better of him and it’s resulting impatience made it harder for Jack to play the straight game.

“Dude.”

Camilla’s frozen.  “I wouldn’t say anything about you.” He puts his hand on hers where it’s digging into the bed, or rather where it’s gripping the bedspread for dear life.  “You know I wouldn’t drag you into my mess.”

He expects her to say ‘I know’ with a smile that speaks of her trust in Jack Zimmermann her friend and fellow actor, but instead her mouth thins into a tight anxious line.  “But you would.”

He frowns, “What?”

“You would, because when you came out people would ask about me.  They’d ask me how I could be so stupid not to notice or worse yet what I got out of being your beard.”

“You’d just tell them you did it for me because we’re friends.”

Her withering look takes him completely by surprise.  “The tabloids won’t be happy with that.  They’ll call me a moron or a witless female pawn.  Or some dogged reporter is going to call me a secret lesbian and dig up all my past dates, the ones both on and off the books.” She leaps off the bed and Jack falls into the gap she leaves.  “they’ll hound the shelter.  No one will have any anonymity anymore.” She starts to pace.  “Christ I’ll be a pariah in the community.” She stops only to stab her feet into her heels.

“Wait- Camilla stop!”

“No.”

“No?”

“You can’t.”

Jack blinks at her trying to hear a different meaning in her words but there isn’t one.  She’s asking him this.  “Are you…are you serious?”

Camilla leans on the corner of the mattress and grabs his hand, squeezing it very, very tightly in hers. Wide eyed she begs, “Listen Jack, please, please, please don’t do it.”

He snatches his hand away and pushes himself to sitting, his own expression now tight from anxiety because watching Camilla freak out was how he thought he must have looked this morning when his mother told him about re-election.  Jack felt terrible on the inside during a panic attack and it turns out it looks just as bad from the outside too.

“Just wait okay? Until we break up then…then wait two years- three years after your mother steps down, then come out and by that time everyone will have forgotten our relationship.”

“Camilla relax okay?” He snaps, “It’s not happening! I’m not going to get to come out for another four years at least even if we break up before then.  So just…relax.”

They stare at one another in silent anguish both full of self-loathing at who they’ve become and hating it more for letting it affect the circle of trust and understanding they create with one another.

“I should go.” Camilla says at length.

“I’m not going to do it. I promise.”

Camilla’s mouth twists with sadness.  “I wish you could.  You know I do.”

“I know, I know.  Me too.  It’s just…not the right time.  For either of us.”

“Yeah.” She shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other.  When she says goodbye they don’t kiss on the cheek like they usually do and she doesn’t look back with a conspiratorial smile like she usually does either. 

Fingers (Luke smut) DAY 4!

Summary: Luke comes back from the studio and his fingers go for a walk… ;)

Warnings: This is smut! (fingering) 

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Inspired by this blurb! (ALSO THIS GIF I’M FUCKING SOBBING) 

This is one of my favourite smuts that I’ve written for Smutty September so I really hope you enjoy reading it because I’m in love w the concept :)

Originally posted by angelofficals

Luke disappeared to the studio while you were asleep this morning, leaving you slightly irritated and lonely when you woke up. Even though you’re used to his absence, with Luke being a famous musician and all, it doesn’t help the pang that fills your chest every morning you wake up alone.

When you’d checked your phone you found a text from him, apologising for his absence and promising to be back by the afternoon, a string of thoughtful emojis mixed throughout. You’d sighed and gone back to sleep, your plans of having a lazy day with him reduced to a boring day by yourself.

It’s now, around 4pm, that you hear Luke arrive back home. You’re laying on your double bed, phone held between your fingers as you scroll through instagram. A feeling of irreversible boredom has been spread through you for the past few hours, your afternoon drearily lacking excitement. 

“Honey, I’m home!” You can’t hold back the smile that covers your face the moment your hear your boyfriend’s cheerful tone. Listening carefully, you hear Luke unzipping his jacket and hanging it up. 

His heavy footsteps plod towards the bedroom, your body full of happiness as you sit up and toss your phone to the side. “Hey, babe,” You greet, Luke entering the room a moment later. 

The joy written across his face as he sees you is so pure it makes your heart skip a beat. The love you share is so pure- so overwhelmingly passionate it never fails to bring up your mood. 

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||❥ out of the woods (m)

j u n ! s c e n a r i o

v a m p i r e ! a u

words: 5k

genre: ye old smut, some fluff, the usual lol

synopsis: jun has been restricted from the pure taste of blood for too long, and decides that on halloween night should he actually do something about it. also in memory of the vamp!jun series i never finished,, r.i.p


It was during the time of Halloween that a certain perilous vampire would turn his fangs of white ice upon the town streets, fingers curling unbridledly in his pockets and eyes so smoulderingly black they could be a blanket for the stars. He would untuck himself from whereabouts never revealed and slick back his soft ashy hair, parted lips allowing his tongue to taste the fresh dew that was lathered everywhere.

He could let his fangs unsheathe and gingerly poke into his mouth, he could languidly step behind a clump of children and let his irises cloud a frosty white. They thought he was just taking interest in the eventful night, like he was dressing up to resemble some ancient book character, when really this vampire wasn’t made from silvery contacts or plastic teeth, he was more than real and his desire for blood had struck like a bolt of lightning.

The only reason the vampire could walk around on a night like Halloween and not want to sink his jagged pearls into someone’s flesh was due to the fact he’d already gotten his fix. He’d consumed enough liquid copper to last up to a week, a week where he could be among human life and not want to lacerate into their delicate tissue. Yet a certain incident left the boy in a state of complete opposition. His desire for blood was skyrocketing, and it was a challenging task to keep his solid pace and not lash out at the little folk around him.

Usually Halloween was one of the only days in a year that he let himself walk fully exposed up and down the streets, nobody would suspect him, nobody would try to stab a stake of wood through his chest. He got a lot of crooned compliments whenever he hovered in one corner of town for too long, leaning against a thick oak trunk while fluttering his glittery stare toward the moon.

Your fangs look so real! Are they really plastic?

Jesus, those contacts look like they’re your actual eyes.

That’s a pretty simple yet convincing costume you got there.


And the vampire would just grin toothily and wind his way through the conversation with nothing but the wholehearted truth. Of course not a single soul would ever believe the words rolling off his tongue, not when his lips quirked into that deceitful smirk after their faces momentarily grew stiff. It was Halloween, people liked to dress up as things that didn’t exist, and according to them, he was as much as a real vampire as that one girl down the street was a fluffy purple unicorn.

Yet there happened to be one individual in town that this darkened boy was well aquatinted with, and they knew perfectly well what he was, and what he so often craved.

“I’m sorry, I turned off all my lights cause I don’t have any candy-”

A pause, the process, and then the reaction.

“Jun? What are you doing here- and holy shit why are you walking around with your fangs out and eyes all glowey?”

You couldn’t be more appalled as to why this hunk of shadows was letting every man, woman, and child be coveted to his appearance, and more importantly why his leader was letting him frolic around as such. But Jun, not to your complete surprise, just stifled a yawn that pressed up from his throat and let himself into your house, the distant squeals of mirthful children now becoming mute as the door kicked shut. You could have cloaked him in your sighs and questions that always traveled like a spool of thread, yet you decided to let him wander.

Jun rarely approached you unless he wanted something.

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anonymous asked:

Hi:) Can you write a scenario where you use a vibrator on DK??

I really hope this is at least close to what you wanted omg + rip this was my first smut in a while I hope it’s okay (this is a great way to start a new year)

I tried to keep this a bit more gender neutral - hopefully that’s welcome and I succeeded at least to some extent! and because I wasn’t sure which way to go, this includes >>both external and internal use of the vibrator<<, so if you’re not into the latter one, you might want to stop reading when the external use comes to an end!


The sight in front of you was absolutely marvellous, and all you could do was part your lips in appreciation as your fingertips dragged down your boyfriend’s toned torso. He writhed a little under your touch, his breath heavy and his eyes glassy and desperate, and your lips stretched into a smirk.

“Are you getting sensitive?” you asked, voice just that teasing, and got a rapid nod from Seokmin, accompanied by a needy whine when your finger stopped right below his belly button. Clearly, he’d rather had it go further down. Your smirk only got more prominent at that. “Good.”

Now, back to the beautiful sight in front of you, which was was your boyfriend. But not just that: his wrists were bound together and held up with a rope that was tied to the top of the headboard, his ankles held down by scarves that were fastened to the bed posts at the foot of the bed, and his cock was hard and leaking against his abdomen as the result of all the time you had spent teasing him while whispering dirty things right into his ear.

His mind had been and still was full of the mental images of how hard you’d make him cum, how you were desperate to have him deep inside of you and how you’d let him do almost anything to you. But not that night, except for the part where you’d make him cum hard.

Seokmin’s hips were starting to buck up restlessly, so you leaned down to kiss his chest slowly and finally allowed your fingertips travel low enough to wrap them around his cock. He hissed and screwed his eyes shut, your name slipping through his lips when he finally got the touch he so much needed. You almost chuckled while sucking a light hickey to his chest, a bit above his right nipple.

With him succumbing to pleasure under your ministrations and a series of soft yeses slipping through his lips, you moved your eyes to the silver-colored bullet vibrator that you had by your side. The memory of Seokmin finding your toy stash replayed in your mind, and it had you biting your lower lip a little.

His eyes had glinted in excitement when he had rummaged through them all, some of the toys making him raise his eyebrows and some making him gasp. He had accidentally turned on the particular bullet vibrator that was now next to you on the bed, and you’d never forget his voice when he had spoken, his eyes sparkling when he had turned to look at you. His voice had been so shaky yet determined, like he was already imagining more than a few things.

“Can we use this on me sometime?”

And so the sometime had come, and you were both embracing the moment. Seokmin had been rather impatient all day, and had quite likely never hardened as fast as he did when you stroked him while making out, and told him just what you’d do with the vibrator. It fed your own imagination just as much as it did Seokmin’s, and the way he had grunted at some parts of your description had only made the knot in the pit of your stomach tighter.

You ran your palm over the very tip of Seokmin’s length, which made his hips buck up and a strangled groan rip from his throat. A grin spread to your lips. “Are you ready?”

His smirk was painfully hot, like it always was, and he gave you a meaningful raise of his eyebrow. “Never been readier.”

Even when tied up, you felt like he had a sense of authority to him. With a quick nibble on your lower lip, you decided that you’d have to do something about that, and let go of his cock. The pre-cum soon disappeared from your hand when you ran your tongue across your palm, your eyes locked with Seokmin’s as you withdrew your tongue back into your mouth, the string of pre-cum connecting it to your hand breaking in the process.

His gasp at your action made you feel triumphant - at least you knew his weaknesses.

Seokmin eyed you in interest when you took your underwear off before taking the vibrator into your hand. You stroked it slowly, as if inspecting it, and let out a content sound when you turned it on. Seokmin swallowed hard, his cock twitching at the mere thought of how the vibrator would feel against himself.

Moving your playful eyes from the toy to your boyfriend’s pair of glassy eyes, you smirked. “It’s time for some fun.”

While you might have set the vibrator on its lowest, even those gentle vibrations felt almost painfully strong to Seokmin.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped when the toy met his cock at the base, vibrating lightly against his shaft and balls. The knot in your stomach tightened at his reaction, and you brought the toy higher on him in curiosity: you wanted to see every last reaction of his.

“Do you like it?” you said, although it was almost obvious, your voice teasing yet easily giving away your own, gradually increasing lust. Not that you hadn’t been annoyingly turned on for a good while already, of course. Seokmin was shaking all over, his eyebrows furrowing and lips opening into one gasp after another as he moved his gaze between you and his length.

“Is that even a–” He groaned before he was able to finish his sentence when you pressed the vibrator to the sensitive head of his cock lightly. With his hips bucking up and you pressing them back down into the bed with a small grin tugging at your lips, Seokmin panted heavily. His voice was as shaky as his body when he finally managed to answer you. “Is that even a question, holy shit.”

The smirk wouldn’t leave your face, but you didn’t mind. The sight was getting a bit too much, though, so rather than just being on your knees next to Seokmin, you sat on his left thigh and leaned down to kiss his chest. Being so close to his head, you could hear just how heavy yet shallow his breath was, although the quivering and heaving of his chest was quite a good indicator, too.

Allowing your tongue to glide on Seokmin’s toned chest, you took the vibrator off his cock and turned the power a bit higher. It wasn’t much stronger - you weren’t sure how much he could handle, so you didn’t dare to put it too high - but you could immediately hear and see the difference.

First you just dragged the toy up his inner thigh, which had both of his legs shaking. Considering that you were snugly sitting on one, it was quite an experience for you, too, with his leg stimulating your most sensitive parts in a way that almost got you distracted from the task at hand. Once you had collected yourself again, you pressed the vibrator back against Seokmin’s cock, ripping a strangled moan from him.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he whimpered, his legs still shaking and his arms writhing as he struggled to keep his hips pressed to the mattress. It did impress you how well he was able to do that either way. You sat back up and licked your lips, adoring the sight in front of you. It had been quite a while since the last time you had seen him as such a desperate mess. If you weren’t mistaken, the last time had been when you had played around with his hands tied and a cock ring at the base of his length, and you had taken your sweet time bringing him to what you knew to be the most intense orgasm of his life, at least up til then.

“Please what?” you asked, the faux innocence of your voice in conflict with how you were starting to move your hips on his thigh, or how you teased the head of his cock with the merest tip of the vibrator. It was starting to get a bit sticky with his pre-cum, which only turned you on more.

“I don’t even know,” Seokmin admitted with another hiss as his hips bucked up, which alone almost made you moan, too.

You didn’t say anything back to him, and instead just continued moving the toy around his cock. You went up and down slowly, each and every reaction and noise coming from Seokmin registering in your senses. The shaking of his legs, the quietly uttered profanities, the thin layer of sweat that was starting to gather on his neck, the gradually increasing restlessness of his hips…

It was perfect.

With your fingers moving on Seokmin’s toned upper body again, you brought your fingers that were on the vibrator to the bottom, where you could adjust the settings. Seokmin was grunting quietly almost at a regular pace now, and you cleared your throat. “Do you still want to try stronger?”

He lifted his head from the soft pillow he had buried it into, panting, and nodded.

“Remember not to come until I give you the permission,” you mumbled with a smile and leaned down to kiss your boyfriend at the same time as you turned the power even higher. His loud moan was caught by your lips, and the contracting of his abs didn’t go unnoticed by your fingers.

Oh, how you were enjoying the situation, and definitely not only because his thigh proved out to be almost better than a vibrator, still continuously shaking underneath you and rubbing against you. “I’m not sure if I say this enough, but god do I love your thighs.”

Seokmin chuckled at your mumbled words against his lips, and you pulled back from the kiss. Before you were able to retreat too much, Seokmin called your name. Raising your eyebrows in question, you brought the vibrator to the base of his cock.

“I’m… could we…” It was obvious he was trying to find the strength to both form a full sentence without his voice giving in too much and to say something. You kissed his neck lightly, and in an attempt to help him out a little, moved the toy away from him altogether. At that, Seokmin let out an almost relieved sigh. “Do you think we could try that inside, too?”

To say you were a bit blown away by the question would be an understatement, but judging by the pleading look on Seokmin’s face, he was not kidding.

“Like–”

“I’ve heard it feels good, especially if you find the right spot,” he explained quickly, still appearing as determined and serious as ever. You nodded slowly and played with the thought a little, and as soon as the image of Seokmin riding out an orgasm like that, you were sold - not that you would’ve rejected the idea otherwise, either.

“Yeah, sure,” you said hurriedly and turned the toy off before putting it aside for a while. You leaned down to kiss him again, one of your hands cupping his cheek and your tongue tickling his lips. “I’ll untie your ankles.”

He kissed you back hungrily, visibly frustrated that he couldn’t have his hands on you while doing so, but nodded either way. The kiss didn’t end too soon, though, as you took your time calming him down a little while enjoying the passionate kisses, where you got to be the more dominant party with your tongue dancing with his and your hands moving on his body.

“Alright,” you said dazedly when you had broken away from the kiss, and although you were hesitant to leave his thigh, you stood up and untied Seokmin’s ankles and got lube from the very same box where you kept your toys. You knew Seokmin had some somewhere, too, but you thought it was easier to just get your own than look for his.

Within the short time you had spent getting the lube, Seokmin had gotten his feet pressed on the mattress and his knees bent, legs open. While the sight was on the rarer side, it was definitely inviting, and you felt blood rushing to your lower body as you returned to the bed.

“Do you think two fingers is enough?” you asked while opening the cap of the tube of lube and eyeing the vibrator on the bed, trying to figure out how much prepping was necessary; the toy was by no means big, but then again you also knew that there was no such thing as too much prepping. Seokmin looked thoughtful, and you smiled at how thrilled he seemed about the prospect of having something tickling his prostate.

“Ah, uh,” he muttered, and laughed a bit nervously. You stroked his knee gently in an attempt to reassure him. “Let’s go with two, but if it looks like it, add a third?”

You nodded and took a comfortable position on the bed between his legs and squeezed some lube onto your fingers. Seokmin shuddered when you smeared some of it around his hole and began teasing his tight rim with the merest tip of your forefinger, which wasn’t all that difficult to slide inside. As soon as you heard his breath hitch, you brought your free hand to his cock and stroked him to distract him from the intrusion.

Little by little, you slid your finger in and wiggled it a little before just keeping it in place while your other hand was on Seokmin’s length. He was tense around the digit, but eventually his contorted features began relaxing, much like his hole relaxed around your finger. The first slow thrusts had him hissing, but you took your time making him relaxed and focusing more on the pleasure by kissing his inner thighs and moving your fingers on his cock.

With the hisses turning into quiet moans, you got some more lube on your fingers and began easing a second finger in slowly once you had stretched him enough. He hissed again, which you only took as a sign to continue stroking him steadily. It took a while, but eventually you had three fingers moving slowly in and out of him, and he was moaning and his toes were curling when your fingertips massaged his prostate.

While dragging your lips on his shaft, you slowly pulled your fingers out of him and wiped them on a tissue you grabbed from your nightstand. Seokmin panted and relaxed on the bed, but got attentive again when he could see you reaching for the vibrator.

“So you’re gonna like, put it in now?” Seokmin asked, his head raised a little so that he could see at least something of what was going on. You smiled and stroked his thigh while nodding.

“Kinda, yeah,” you replied with a soft chuckle, and began teasing his slick hole with the tip of the vibrator, which you had gotten a nice amount of lube on. With the earlier prepping, the conveniently sized vibrator slid in without too much of a problem, although you did see and feel Seokmin tense up. Your hand moved soothingly up and down his thigh, and soon you wrapped your fingers around his cock again, stroking it steadily.

“That feels kinda good,” he grunted, his eyes still shut, and bucked his hips up on instinct. A grin spread to your lips as you ran your thumb over the head of his dick while languidly moving the vibrator, still off, inside of him. The noises that left his pretty, parted lips went straight between your legs.

“Oh, yeah?” you chuckled and turned your head so that you could press a kiss to Seokmin’s right thigh and nibble on the sensitive skin lightly. “Well, baby, it’ll only get better from here.”

The smirk on his face was absolutely beautiful, and you loved the way it quickly transformed into an ‘o’ when you turned the vibrator on and slid it out of him before pushing it back in slowly, searching for his prostate.

“Shit,” Seokmin breathed heavily, his toes curling and legs starting to quiver; when his back arched and he let out a loud groan, you could deduce you had found what you were looking for.

It was fascinating, really, to see the effect it had on him to have a vibrator pressed against his prostate. He was unable to be silent and his body could hardly stay still - even if he was able to keep his hips somewhat down, his chest was heaving and abs contracting, and his cock was occasionally twitching with the stimulation you were giving him.

All in all, you could hardly keep your hands off yourself.

You took your time like that, stroking Seokmin in different places. If your hand wasn’t on his length, it was on his stomach, thigh or ass, while you kept the vibrator mostly still. Seokmin’s cheeks were even more flushed than they had been before, and he could barely be silent for more than a second as his lips continued letting out moans, grunts and hisses.

“You look beautiful like this,” you said, voice almost shaky with lust, and took Seokmin’s cock into your hand to swirl your forefinger on his slit. He had a small pool of pre-cum on his stomach by now, and his hips bucked up immediately when you touched him.

“I-I bet you would, too,” he managed, his lower body tensing with the build-up of his orgasm while he pictured you in his position. He groaned desperately as he held it back, which was gradually getting more difficult with how swollen his prostate was and how damn needy he was for his climax. If nothing else told it, it had to be the way you could start hearing “Please” through his noises.

You bent down and kissed him at the base of his length, your eyes staring at his face intently. “You can cum now, baby.”

With a long groan and his hips bucking up high, Seokmin began releasing onto his stomach and your fingers while you stroked him through it, the toy still vibrating against his spot. He was squirming as pleasure washed all over him, and a blissful smile spread to his lips. You took in the way the cum covered his skin, the way his facial muscles began relaxing little by little but his abs continued to tense, and the way his eyes began fluttering open, only to shut again when he began whimpering with how sensitive he was. Smiling to yourself, you sat up and let the vibrator slide out of him with ease, your hand leaving his sensitive length alone, too.

“Thank you,” Seokmin said breathlessly, his legs falling straight again. You put the toy down on the tissue you had wiped your fingers on earlier and moved up on the bed, freeing Seokmin’s wrists and kissing them before lying down next to him.

“I’m glad to see you enjoyed it,” you purred and leaned down to kiss him while your hand slid between his legs and you circled his clenching hole with your finger lightly. “I assume this won’t be a one-time thing?”

He thought for a while and pecked your lips, an almost sheepish smile climbing to his lips. “Probably not, if that’s fine.”

You nodded with a smile and were about to say something when Seokmin had already flipped you over and was sitting lightly on top of your thighs, looking down at you with intense eyes. His fingers began sliding underneath your shirt. “Would you be in for some experimenting, too?”

Running your hands up and down on Seokmin’s thighs before wrapping them around his neck and pulling him down, you smirked. “Some other time, sure. Right now I just need you to make me cum.”

And he did. Twice.


Admin Scooter

Wake Me Up [Viktuuri]

Summary: AU where Yuuri and Viktor are still figure skaters, but instead of being Yuuri’s love interest and Coach, Viktor is his friend and another skater who competes against him, like Christophe and Phichit. After a casual ‘friends with benefits’ kind of hook up, Viktor starts to see Yuuri in a different light, and questions whether he just wants to be his friend, or something more.

Word Count: 3,759

Read Here: [x]

They’re tangled together – limb entwined with limb as they strip each other of their clothes. There’s the occasional drunken giggle and the knocking of teeth and suddenly their clothes are gone, and they’re kissing and sucking on skin and gasping each others names. Short, breathless gasps of Yuuri and Viktor. The only sounds you’d hear is slapping of skin and gasps and moans as they melt into each other.

There aren’t any feelings here. It’s only platonic passion and emotion and desperate need for some sort of release. However, Viktor let’s himself forget among the desperate pants and moans.

The platonic emotions are back, though, and it’s all over when Yuuri wakes him up.


He’s naked, drowsy and in pain from a hangover. He keeps the sheets over him, and realizes that he’s not in his or Yuuri’s homes, but a very expensive looking hotel room. Viktor remembers last night, but only parts. He’s not naive – he knows what happened with Yuuri. He knows that they slept together. He knows that it was entirely casual and he knows that Yuuri thinks nothing more of Viktor than he would of a friend.

He only faintly hears Yuuri’s voice as he wakes up. His eyes are slowly adjusting to the seeping light but he can see Yuuri’s shape as it wanders around the room. As he adjusts, he can see the exposed muscles in Yuuri’s back flex.
Yuuri isn’t particularly muscular, nor is he tall or typically attractive. But Viktor notices, as the light hits his face in a certain way, that he is unusually beautiful. His face is rounded, slightly, but his jaw is strong enough. His eyes are plain brown, but they’re also a lovely brown, and they look gorgeous behind his glasses.

Yuuri’s voice is barely above a whisper when he sits on the bed beside Viktor. “You need to get up, Viktor.” His hand rests on Viktor’s thigh and he offers a warm smile. “You promised Chris that you’d help him prepare for the party tonight.”

Viktor grumbles and sits up straight, his hand flying to his head as he grimaces. He’s never been his normal giddy self in the mornings. “Why do we need another party? Isn’t the Banquet enough?”

“It’s not an official official,” Yuuri shrugs as he hurries on a shirt. His drawstring pants are loose and start to slip down his waist as he gets up. He fixes them and tightens the string. “It’s just a party that Chris wants to throw in celebration. I don’t know why he’d be celebrating, though. This is the first time he hasn’t placed second in a long time.”

Viktor giggles like a schoolgirl. “Or first,” he reminds the dark haired skater. “Don’t forget, Yuuri, you placed second.”

“Yeah, and you placed first.” Yuuri rolls is eyes. “Like you have every year.” He sighs at Viktor’s mumbled, not every year, and runs his fingers through his hair. “You know, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. In case you’ve forgotten, you were my inspiration since I was a kid.”

“And I’ve admired you since before we met last year.” Viktor grins. He finally pulls himself out of bed and shrugs on a night gown. “You’re too hard on yourself, as well, Yuuri.”

They get dressed in silence. Viktor’s eyes wander to Yuuri again and again, and he sighs. He hates this feeling. Yuuri is one of his best friend’s – to think of him like this is selfish. He hates that his stomach l fills with butterflies every time he looks at him, and he hates that he can’t help but smile whenever Yuuri fixes his glasses or a strand of hair. He hates it.

Viktor has never felt like this about Yuuri before. Sure, he admired him for a good year or so, and he’s definitely thought about how good his ass looks in his costumes, but he’s never really thought about him like this.

Before either of them say anything, Yuuri’s hand is on the doorknob and he’s twisting it and it’s open, he turns back to Viktor and smiles timidly. “I’ll see you at the party tonight.” And he’s gone. Viktor looks around. So this is my hotel room, he thinks. They all look the same, don’t they?



“Yurio~” Viktor singsongs to the 16 year old blond as he walks into Chris’ party. His face is flustered and it’s clear that he’s just been with Otabek. “You look awfully dishevelled!”

Yurio’s eyes are wide as he turns his gaze to the floor, and Otabek walks in behind him. They’ve done this before, Viktor knows it. “Shut up, shit head.” He turns bright red as Otabek stops at his side. “What would you know?” he bumps his hand against his taller friend’s and the older bumps Yurio’s Back.

“I know that whenever your face is that red, you’ve been up to no good.” Viktor hums knowingly with a shit eating grin he knows Yurio hates. “And that your lips are swollen.”

It’s Otabek’s turn to flush, his eyes growing wide as he looks down at Yurio. Victor’s grin doesn’t falter as they both make their way to the bathrooms in a rush. They’re only in there for ten minutes, and return to Viktor telling a dad joke to Yuuri, who’s eyes wander to the pair and greets them with a grin that almost splits his face in two. “Fancy seeing you two here,” he hums. “I thought you’d avoid a party put together by Chris like the Plague, Yurio.”

“Don’t call me that, piggy.” Yurio spits, no venom in his tone. “Beka forced me to come. He said it’d be rude if I didn’t.”

“He was right!” a voice comes from behind the blond, louder than the music playing over the bustling conversations, and they all recognise the voice to be none other than Chris’. He decided to play all of this seasons music for the party, even the songs from the skaters who didn’t make it to the Grand Prix Final. “You wouldn’t want to be so rude as to not come to your dear friend’s party, would you?”

Yurio scoffs. He grabs a drink from a platter one of the volunteers is carrying around and pretty much downs it in one go. “The fucking Banquet is enough, I only go to it because I have to.” He ignores Otabek bending down to whisper, you don’t actually have to go. “This is bullshit. Especially the fucking butlers.”

“Oh, Yurio!” Viktor sighs dramatically. “Such a foul mouth for such a small boy!”

“Shut up, old man.”

They all burst out in laughter, other than Yurio, of course. Viktor gives Yuuri a sideways glance and his face is fixed on his. His eyes wander across Yuuri’s features and he takes in every wrinkle and curve in the younger man’s face as he laughs.

Yurio notices Viktor staring, and a grin similar to the one Viktor wore earlier splits his lips. “I noticed the piggy leaving your hotel room this morning.” At Viktor and Yuuri’s sputters and coughs, Yurio rolls his eyes. “Did you forget that our rooms are on the same floor, dumbass? What was Yuuri doing in your room last night?” his voice is demanding as he gives the pair an impatient glare.

Viktor starts to panic as he swallows the lump in his throat. He’s about to sputter out some kind of lie before Yuuri speaks up. “I was having a panic attack.” He lies awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with anyone. “I… Uh, drank a bit too much at the Banquet last night, so… I get anxious when I’m tipsy. When I started sobering up I started getting all weird and panicky so I found Viktor’s room and he helped me out.”

Yurio doesn’t seem to notice Yuuri’s lie, which is strange for thim considering he’s far more observant than most people realize. He murmurs under his breath. “With sex,” but they all pretend not to hear. They all do.

Viktor gives Yuuri a look that the brunette definitely notices. He looks down at the Japanese skater and furrows his eyebrows, as if asking, why lie? Yuuri shrugs and smiles warmly at Phichit as he enters the room, leaving Viktor behind with tinted cheeks.



Viktor has never understood the idea of a tattoo. Perhaps it’s because of his appreciation of the human body, or just the idea of something so permanent and painful. He’s just always found them distasteful.

Well – until now. He’s standing in front of an expensive looking tattoo parlour – one about half way between his apartment and the rink he trains at. He was walking home, but stopped at the sight of it.

He looks down at his bare wrist and shivers. It’s autumn, almost winter, and the cold is slowly creeping into the air. He thinks of what it would be like to have something so terrifyingly permanent as a tattoo against his complexion, and thinks about what he’d even have inked into his skin.

A name. A specific name. With a fancy ‘Y’ and two cursive ‘u’s and an ‘r’ and an ‘i’. Or would he have it in Russian? Or Japanese? English seems most appropriate, considering its the second most common language in the world.

Viktor sighs.



When winter finally arrives, Viktor realises something he wishes he hadn’t.
He sits beside Yuuri at an outdoor cafe, both covered in layers of warm clothing and scarves and jackets. It’s a warmer day, still below ten degrees Celsius. They share a large bowl of chips (they’re both a bit tight on money) and their fingers brush against one another’s. Yuuri’s cheeks turn pink, and Viktor’s eyes widen as he observes his best friend’s face.

How has he never noticed it?

Normally, Yuuri’s eyes are brown. A deep brown that you can get lost the in if you stare long enough. But today? Viktor’s gaze doesn’t stray or falter as he stares and notices them – little flecks of caramel and golden.

It happens again, not a week later. They sit inside on a colder day, beneath blankets as they watch Shrek for the third time that month. Rather than paying attention to the movie (he can probably recite the entire script, by now), he’s paying attention to Yuuri’s eyes as they flicker back and forth across the TV, and he notices them again. Little flecks of golden and caramel hiding in the deep chocolate brown that Viktor can get lost in.

He keeps seeing them. He sees them in the mornings they’re together and the nights they share at each others sides. He sees them when he closes his eyes.
When Spring comes bounding, blinding, they’re gone, and Viktor realises that they’re only there in cold air.

Viktor wishes he had never noticed the golden caramel flecks in chocolate brown, because he selfishly decides that he wants nothing more than to hold Yuuri in a cold place for the rest of their lives



That night, at Chris’ party, when Yuuri told everyone that whenever he has a panic attack he goes straight to Viktor and that was why he was there the night before – he wasn’t telling a complete lie. He does have panic attacks and when he has them, who’s the first person he thinks to go to?

Viktor.

He’s sitting on Viktor’s love seat in his living room now, his head in between his bouncing knees and cradled by his own hands. Viktor’s hand is against Yuuri’s back, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades as he whispers to him.

“Are you alright?” Viktor’s voice is soft and soothing to Yuuri as he continues rubbing his back. When Yuuri slowly nods his head, the silver haired Russian frowns because he knows that his friend is lying. He always knows when he’s lying. “I know you like hot baths. I’ll run you one, alright?” When Yuuri doesn’t move, Viktor smirks. “I’ll fill it with scented bubbles~”

Yuuri tenses and hesitates before he finally nods.

As Viktor fills up the bath he sits and stares and wonders. He watches the bubbles fill the bath and pictures Yuuri lying there, giving Viktor the look he always gives him. Losing himself in Viktor’s eyes like the Russian got lost in his.

Viktor imagines a future. He imagines a child in the bathtub in a home far away from the city. He pictures Yuuri trying to cook and failing miserably and he pictures the two of them at one another’s side on the lounge in the living room, looking down at a child grinning up at them from the carpeted floor.

Viktor has to shake his head to get the picture of it out of his head.

When he returns to the living room, Yuuri stares at him with wide, anxious eyes, and his fingers are tangled and fiddling. Viktor sighs and sits beside him, and Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor’s torso straight away.

“Yuuri,” Viktor’s voice is small, unlike his normal, boisterous tone. “What set you off?”

Yuuri’s reply is so small, Viktor almost doesn’t hear it. He does, though, and once the brunette has mumbled out the small, timid “You,” he’s holding on to him like his life depends on it without giving a single care about the hot bath turning cold. He can draw another one later.



They’re walking along a beach when Viktor finally does something.

His eyes are fixed on the sand as they dawdle along the beach at each others sides. Yuuri is smiling at Viktor and telling a story about the friend of his from Hasetsu who used to help him with his skating, but Viktor isn’t listening.

He notices a pebble that kind of resembles a heart shape, and he closes his eyes as he stops completely. Yuuri looks back at him. “Viktor, are you alright?”
The Russian doesn’t reply. He reaches for the pebble and stares at it in his hand. He has a rock in his other hand, suddenly, and starts chipping at the pebble. Yuuri’s eyes are fixed between Viktor and the pebble in his hand and he narrows them. “Viktor. What are you doing?”

Viktor looks down at the pebble in his hand, satisfied, and hands it to Yuuri. “If you can, use some string and make it into a necklace. You could wear it, if you want. I think it’d look nice on you.”

He doesn’t notice the tear rolling down Yuuri’s right cheek until he really looks, and suddenly, he feels one trickle down his own cheek – hot and barely even there.

And now Yuuri’s smiling up at Viktor, lopsided, awkward and nervous, just like all of his beautiful smiles. They’re contagious – Viktor noticed this a long time ago, so he smiles down a got Yuuri, and suddenly their fingers are tangled and they’re both silent.

They stay like that until they’re both going home.



Viktor isn’t entirely sure how, but it happens again.

For a second time, they’re a mess of limbs and lust but this time, they aren’t drunk. They’re completely sober as they dance through the routine another time – kisses and gasps shared. They cling to each other, pulling one another closer with each passing moment. Yuuri lies beneath Viktor and moans his name, over and over. He’s never been particularly crude – profanities aren’t his style.

Viktor is the same. His mouth only let’s sweet pants and gasps tumble out and he’s looking down at his best friend with adoration in his eyes and admiration in his features.

For a second time, it’s all over when Yuuri wakes him up.

This time, they’re in Viktor’s apartment, and Yuuri isn’t wandering around the room without a shirt on and only drawstring pants. Yuuri lies beside Viktor, just as naked as the Russian. His snores are loud and he understands how he woke up.

He treads lightly into the kitchen once he’s dressed and makes two cups of tea. Yuuri’s is a Japanese herbal tea that Viktor knows he loves. He tiptoes into his room, and gives a small smile when he sees Yuuri, sitting up in his bed. “Good morning,” the brunette mumbles. “Did you make tea?”

Viktor nods and hands him his mug, sitting beside him to drink his own.

“It’s the herbal one I told you about.” Yuuri notices as he inhales the scent. “I can’t believe you remembered.” He sips at his tea, his face lighting up as it warms his face and body.

Viktor watches him. He watches how his lips wrap over the edge of the tea cup and how his fingers are long and slim. He watches Yuuri’s eyes, too, and notices the wrinkles at either side of his face when he closes them. He watches him and stares at every part of his face, and looks down to his own hand.

His hands are kind of pale, like the rest of him. His fingers are slim and bony, and his hands are thin and you can see a few veins. He looks at his finger – his forth finger – and sighs. He thinks to himself, wouldn’t a ring look nice there?

His exhale wavers as it leaves his lips and he looks at Yuuri. He’s been doing a lot of that lately. Looking at Yuuri. “I’ll be back,” Viktor snaps suddenly, wincing at his tone as he makes his way to the balcony. He grabs a pack of cigarettes and grimaces at the photo on the packaging .

He hates the feeling of smoking. He feels gross and he hates himself for it but he can’t stop. He started about three years ago, just after he cut his hair – he was going through a kind of phase. An existential crisis when he’d questioned his skill and career and he decided then to say fuck you to his health and his iconic hair.

He doesn’t smoke very often, so he’s never done it in front of Yuuri or any of his friends other than Chris. He supposes that’s why he grimaces and frowns when Yuuri pads onto the balcony, giving Viktor a disappointed stare.

“You didn’t tell me you smoked.”

“I don’t do it very often,” Viktor sighs, taking a long, soothing drag from the cigarette. “I’m not like one of those chain-smokers who can smoke a pack a day.”

Yuuri’s face twists into a cringe when he smells the smoke, and he turns his nose away. “I hate the smell.” He says. “My sister smokes and I’ve been trying to get her to stop but she won’t listen to me.”

“Mm,” Viktor takes another drag, then puts it out in an ashtray he’s hidden so no one can find it without looking for it. “I’ll try and quit. For you.”

Yuuri stays silent.

For some reason, Viktor opens his mouth again. “Yuuri, how do you feel about marriage?”

Yuuri’s eyes were wide as they snapped up to meet Viktor’s, and he stars stuttering as his fingers automatically fiddle. “Well… Technically, I can’t get married, but it seems nice…” He alerts his intense, nervous gaze from Viktor’s eyes to the floor.

The silver haired Russian frowns, silently cursing at himself for being the reason that saddened gaze sets upon Yuuri’s expression. He nods and hums solemnly, and jumps when Yuuri asks, “Why?”

Viktor is caught off guard with how close Yuuri suddenly is to him, which makes him want to laugh. He looks down at the brunette and heaves a great sigh from his lungs before looking away.

Being this close to Yuuri is like being in the eye of a storm. It’s calm, quiet and seemingly peaceful, but something always happens to get Yuuri out of this shy, nervous state and into his Eros persona – the storm.

Viktor knows that he feels something for Yuuri beyond a sexual attraction; he’s not naive. He knows that the feeling he gets whenever he looks at Yuuri is something far more. The feeling of overwhelming affection seeping through his chest and enveloping his heart – it was almost suffocating and he needed to do something about it.

“Viktor?” Yuuri’s voice brings him back to where he’s standing; on his balcony, the brunette’s hand comforting on his own. “Did you hear me? I want to know why you asked that – you know what? Never mind.”

For a second, Viktor thinks Yuuri’s going to kiss him. He’s close enough – just another inch and their lips would be slotted together, sending sparks along their spines. But Viktor thinks, if he’s going to kiss me, he’s really taking his time. Because Yuuri is close, but not moving, and it’s driving the Russian mad.

So, to put them both out of their misery, though he believes it’s only his, Viktor finally jerks his head forward, and finds himself a mess of affection, dancing tongues, saliva and an oddly excessive amount of fireworks.

The first time they kissed, there wasn’t nearly as much boom to the display of sexual tension. It was nice – but it was messy. The first time they kissed, they were both drunk and giddy from the aftermath of the Grand Prix Final.

Now, barely a year later, they’re sober and giddy from the aftermath of a second ‘casual’ hook-up, lips pretty much glued together as they whimper and moan at the feeling of one another’s hands running along their bare skin below the fabric of the little clothing they were wearing.

Unlike their kisses shared before, this one isn’t heated and rushed. It’s sensual and slow, and Viktor brings his hands to cup Yuuri’s face and to bring the brunette closer. Yuuri’s hands are on Viktor’s waist and he’s pulling the Russian closer and now they’re pressed against each other and their lips are joined with tongues dancing between them.

Viktor has never felt so alive.

Now Viktor’s hand is exploring the brunettes chest and he feels it – the pebble from the beach. Attached to a string, it sits perfectly against the part of Yuuri’s chest where his heart would be and Viktor feels his eyes watering.

He decides, suddenly, that he’s in love.

He doesn’t realize he’s pulled away until he’s gasping for breath and struggling to keep tears from trickling down his cheeks. Yuuri looks at him, aghast, gives a lopsided smile. There’s a look in the brunettes eye and Viktor knows it’s one of understanding. It’s saying, you don’t need to tell me. I already know.

Viktor gives a look back. What about you?

I do.

?
Sister Christian - Part 3

Summary: You are a musician with a show in the same town as the SPN convention. You have always wanted to go and decide this is your opportunity. There, you meet Jensen Ackles.

Genre: RPF, fluff I guess for the first parts. The last one will contain SMUT! :)

Characters: Jensen x Reader. Mentioned are: Jared Padalecki, Cliff, Rob Benedict, Richard Speight Jr., Ruth Connell, Matt Cohen, Alaina Huffman, and Osric Chau

Warnings: Language for this first part. Eventual Smut in the last part

Betas:  Thank you to @emoryhemsworth​ and @frickfracklesackles​. Thank you to @sis-tafics​ for her help with the smut! Also thank you to @littlegirlsdontplaynice​ for her read through.

Word Count: 2434

A/N: Holy cow! This is my first ever fic and I hope it’s okay.  I decided to make this a mini-series due to the sheer length of this fic! Please leave feedback! Also, this is PURE FICTION! I mean no harm to Danneel and the kids. I love them! Just assume she married a rich lawyer. :)

Songs used are NOT MINE. Rights belong to the owners.

Sister Christian by Night Ranger (I based a lot off of Jensen singing it) The video is at the bottom.

Heartbeat by Carrie Underwood

Craving You by Thomas Rhett featuring Maren Morris

Originally posted by ehghtyseven

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