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sesmiq · 3 months ago

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a night to remember Underneath the sheets, you enchanted me And whispered sweet nothings in my ear ‧₊˚🖇️ pairing: bottom male reader x secret one night stand ⤹warning: mister/sir kink ?, y/n being bratty,, soft/gentle sex, v vanilla, drunk reader, no condom D: (be safe aa), blowjob (receiving), fingering (receiving), door>table sex,,, aftercare!! always have aftercare ,, age gap(reader/y.n 21, one night stand 32) rlly rushed in general, not proof read, if this flop ill simply explode (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ word count: 3.3k

today was a shitty day. for y/n, at least, it started when his brand new shoes, in the worst color possibly, white- getting completely ruined when he stepped into dog’s poo. then, he checked his grades on his phone, only to see a big red F. on the class he needed to pass in order to graduate. the reason? one of his groupmate didnt do their part, even worse- they dont even attend the class! and now, because of that person, y/n wasnt going to graduate on time. y/n asked his other teammate who was the one that didnt do their part, he made sure to write down their name into his note app to (maybe) beat them up one day,, just when he thought his day couldnt get worse, he was on his way to his part time job before getting a text from his boyfriend. the message was short, a simple, “lets breakup.” he read the text over and over again, his boyfriend of 2 years- ending things without even a word of explanation, over text at that. y/n didnt go to his part time job that day, asking for a sick leave from his manager. his friends noticed that he looked down, then dragged him to a bar to distract him from whatever was in his head. shots. beer. loud music.. y/n drank everything his friend poured him as he listened to the other’s rant about how can his boyfriend just dump y/n like that. he just wanted to forget. after a few drinks in, feeling a little tipsy, y/n told his friends that hes gonna step out for a smoke and maybe fresh air. he leaned against the cold brick wall, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. ..its cold. maybe he shouldve borrowed his friend’s coat, He exhaled, watching the smoke curl up into the dark sky, when something warm and heavy draped over his shoulders. “??” he blinked, turning his head. Ah, this guy is handsome, he thought to himself, the stranger stood beside him, he looked like he's a few years older than y/n (maybe around his early 30s, he thinks.) , with messy dark hair, piercing black eyes and only wearing a black turtleneck with slacks. “youre shivering.” the man said, voice low and smooth, y/n glanced down at the coat, then back up at the man “‘m fine.” he slurred his words, swaying on his feet like hes gonna fall any moment. the guy huffed out a quiet laugh, “you sure?” “..’m not that drunk.” “mhm.”

“what are you? my mom?” the guy let out a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, “go back in, you’re gonna freeze.” “dont wanna.” “dont be stubborn.” he huffed. “I’m not-” y/n stopped, blinking, as the words caught up with him. “..you’re annoying.” on impulse, y/n yank him forward, grabbing the front of the guy’s collar, pulling him down his height and then his mouth was on his. it wasn’t graceful. hell, it wasn’t even all that romantic. just messy. sloppy. drunken. but the guy kissed back. like hes not going anywhere. y/n wasnt sure how theyd get from the bar to an apartment? or motel, he couldnt tell. the door clicked shut behind and he barely caught it before nearly tripping over if it werent for the other’s steadying him by the waist. “you alright?” the man murmured, before he could say anything, he was pushed against the door, the man covering the back of head with his hand, his back hitting the wood with a soft thud, and then the guy’s lips were on his before pulling away, “you talk too much.” y/n groaned, alcohol still buzzing through his system. he stared back at the stranger, before asking, “whats your name?”

the man paused for a second before tilting his head to the side, as if thinking what to say, he leaned in- just a little closer to touch his forehead with y/n’s,

“does it matter?” he murmured. y/n shouldve said yes, but instead, he pulled the stranger in for a kiss. before he could pull away, the guy already had his hands underneath y/n’s shirt, the sudden warmth against his cold skin sent an immediate jolt through him.

the man's lips left his for a brief second, the man's mouth moved to y/n’s neck, lips hot against his skin, sucking and biting just enough to leave a mark.

“m-mister..”

upon hearing this, the other raised an eyebrow, eyes flashing with amusement. “mister?” he repeated,

y/n only shrugged, before tugging at the man’s shirt once again, as if wanting it off. “mm.”

the man’s hands slid lower, teasing the waistband of his pants, then pulling him closer again, grinding against him in a way that made y/n gasp.

y/n’s hands, impatient and shaky, pushed at the other’s shirt again. “off,” he mumbled, tugging at it.

“eager much?” the man dropped onto his knees, taking off his own shirt before throwing it somewhere in the room.

y/n's breath hitched when the man dropped to his knee, staring politely at the other’s body.

hands firm on his thighs, pressing them apart just enough to show the man his hardening weewee, his fingers tugged at y/n’s waistband once again, tugging it off along with his boxer.

y/n face flushed, his member standing proudly, feeling shy, he meekly hid his crotch from the other man.

“perv.”

the man laugh, before forcefully pulling apart y/n’s thigh. he lightly caresses y/n’s inner thigh, while his other hand strokes the younger’s member,

y/n let out a whine when the man swallowed his length in one go, he immediately covered his mouth with both his palm, stifling any whines that would come out.

gently, he started bobbing his head up and down while grabbing a small bottle of lube from his pocket pants.

y/n noticed the lube, it was almost sweet, like he was handling something fragile. he let out a breathless laugh, “hah, you were really prepared for this?” he murmured, eyes half lidded as the man continued on sucking him and pours the lube into his hand. “i guess you really are a perv.”

the man sighed around y/n’s length, he brought up his hand towards the younger’s entrance, teasingly circling two of his fingers around it.

y/n shivered at the cold feeling against his rim, he was starting to get impatient, “just—” his words suddenly cut off into a whine as the tip of the man’s fingers slid in.

the older of the two hummed, sending vibrations to y/n’s member. he let out another whine when the man curled his fingers, pressing against a spot that had y/n arching his back,

y/n lightly hits the man’s shoulder when he pulled off his member, giving it a small kiss on the leaking tip,

with his head thrown towards the door, y/n covered his mouth with his palm once again, hoping nobody can hear them outside the door. flush spread around his chest, barely hidden from his low neck hoodie.

“feeling shy now?” the older teased, rising from his knees, he grabbed one of y/n’s thigh and hooked it around his waist, fingers still pressed deep onto that one spot, twisting his finger just to hear y/n sigh.

y/n scoffed, hiding his face in the man’s shoulder before letting out a muffled moan, his hand never stopped massaging y/n’s prostate.

when the man pulled his finger out, the younger one let out a huff as if in annoyance, before he could let out another snarky remark, he felt something stiff and warm under him.

glancing down, he noticed the man’s breath growing heavier and heavier, he moved his hips, the tip of his.. weapon? prodding against y/n’s hole.

he paused at the sight ‘thats going in me?’ was the only thing he could think at the moment, the man noticed y/n’s stare, nuzzling into the younger’s shoulder, “im getting impatient.” he murmured, his voice low and raspy as he gripped onto y/n’s waist.

“really?” y/n laughed, wrapping his arm around the man’s neck so he doesnt fall. the man’s breath hitched, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips,

“yeah,”

the man lines himself up against y/n’s, him kindly enough had poured a generous amount onto his length, before slowly pushing himself in.

y/n yelped, while he did have experience, its been a while he had taken anything like the man’s size.

he took his time, moving slowly, one of his hand gripping y/n’s leg, one gentle hand strokes y/n’s back, circling around his back, his movement slow, as if he werent going anywhere.

pressing a soft skin to y/n’s neck, he slowly pushes his length inside inch by inch, taking note of how y/n whine or gasps.

the man grunted when he finally fit his entire length in that tight warmth, he noticed how quiet y/n have been (besides letting out a few whines here and there), concerned, he placed y/n on the nearby table.

he pulled back just enough to check on him, “still with me?” he muttered, brushing a hand though y/n’s hair, though, all he got was a, “mhmm..”

y/n’s face was still buried in his neck, his lips parted slightly as he lets out small, breathless whine, his arms still hung around the man’s shoulder,

the man let out a low curse, yet he gently cupped y/n’s jaw to take a look at his face-, y/n’s eyes were half-lidded, unfocused and dazed (?)

he was about to pull out, thinking maybe the alcohol had made y/n tired, he can just jerk himself off later.. but before he could, he felt something wrapped around his waist, as if not wanting him to go,

“mister..” y/n, still clearly out of it, voice was barely above a whisper surprising the older, “whyd you stop?”

the mans heart skipped a beat, something about y/n’s expression, how his face flushed and how y/n wrapped his legs around the man so he wouldnt go.

he let out a small smile, clearly caught off guard yet amused, the younger one could be so cute when hes isnt letting out sarcastic remarks— but even if he does, the man wouldve still found it cute anyway. “i told you,” he chuckled softly, “im not going anywhere.”

the man chuckled again, he cupped y/n’s face gently, tilting his head to meet his gaze, “i-”

“stop talking and keep moving.” y/n muttered, giving the man a lazy smile.

oh..

slightly amused, the man let out a laugh, his fingers brushing against y/n’s cheek almost tenderly. “alright.”

y/n didnt want to wait, he clenched onto the man’s length, making the older groan.

the man shook his head, “impatient,” he said, his voice soft making something tingle inside y/n’s stomach.

y/n whined when he felt the man pulling away, he was ready to snap something snarky, but his words got cut off into a moan when the other suddenly thrusted into him,

y/n let out a soft, startled gasp as the man’s hands found their way back to his waist, pulling him flush against him, the tip of his member directly pressed against the bundle of nerves inside of him.

the man occasionally lets a low grunt, his hands moving to hike up y/n’s hoodie just enough to see his abdomen and chest, he leans down, his lips ghosting over his skin before nipping at one of y/n’s perked up nipples.

the younger inhaled sharply, the soft whimper that escaped his throat betraying him. his face flushed, trying to bite his lips to hold back another whimper when the man continued his pace.

y/n couldnt help but arch his back whenever the man pulled out so slightly, then bottomed inside him in one go— or the way his hips instinctively move by itself whenever the man pulls away.

y/n’s eyes snapped open just in time to catch the soft smile tugging at the man’s lips. before y/n could protest, he was pulled into a kiss—soft, but deep, silencing the whimpers and desperate gasps that were about to spill from his lips.

he couldnt help but melt into the kiss,, muffling any moans that would leak out whenever the man’s length grazes his prostate.

he relaxes under the man’s touch, hands moving from the older’s shoulder to his back, scratching slightly at his skin.

each movement from the older man was slow, yet y/n felt like he could feel his length in him so deep. pushing y/n closer to edge, he pulled himself away from the man to catch his own breathe,

“fuck-” y/n gasped, his insides tightened, making the man above him grunt. his back arched again, clinging onto the man on top of him, hands desperately gripping the man’s shoulder.

“im gonna..” he squeezes his eyes shut. “M-mister!”

his body tensed up, his eyes slightly rolling back to his skull. thick, white ropes fell onto his own abdomen, some even getting to the man’s body.

the man slowed down for a second, his lips curling into a small smile, he watch y/n’s face contort into pleasure before leaning down to kiss him again.

“you did so well.” he murmured.

y/n, still dazed, only hummed in response.

the man wished he had the stamina to keep going, the sight of y/n in his arms and the noises he makes whenever he moves are just so addicting.

his movements grows erratic, he felt himself throbbing inside of y/n, his grip tightening around y/n, enough to leave a bruise.

his hips stuttered, a deep groan escaping his throat as he buried his face into the younger’s neck. just before he was about to climax, he pulled out and jerked himself off. spilling his come all over y/n’s stomach.

and for once, y/n forgets everything around him, the break up, the bad day he was having,, and the fact he doesnt even knows the name of the man he just spent the night with.

but it doesnt matter, right?

while he felt himself drifting into sleep, he was carefully carried to the bathroom, he felt his hoodie being taken off and before he knew it, the man had gently put him in a bathtub filled with warm water. by the time the man had finished bathing him, he was already half asleep. he was tucked in into the bed, the man climbed into the cover with him, “are you really not gonna tell me your name..?” y/n murmured, too tired to care anymore, but still slightly curious. the man simply laughed, his voice sending butterflies to y/n’s stomach, his hand gently brushing through y/n’s hair. “maybe later.” y/n hummed one last time, before drifting into a well needed sleep. the next morning, y/n woke up with a headache that felt like a hammer to his skull, his body ache from the waist down- though not in a bad way, enough to remember what had happened last night.

he looked around the room, noticing theres nobody else but him. next to the bed was the nightstand, his half lidded eyes landed on whats on top.

a bottle of hangover medicine and an energy drink.

huh, how nice.

so the guy, whoever he was, hadnt left him butt naked and was nice enough to actually give him a bath and dress him up.

y/n exhaled, running a hand through his hair and dragged himself out of the bed,

theres no sign of the man last night, no note, no nothing.

maybe that was the best decision, at least y/n doesnt have to see him again.

with a huff, y/n took the hangover medicine and drinks it in one go, then grabbed his bag (making sure he still have his personal items..) and left.

the motel was coincidentally near his dorm apartment, letting y/n have just enough time to change his clothes from last night, making sure to bring a coat before heading out. (hed rather be caught dead than wearing the same clothes from yesterday ;; )

eventually, with enough convincing from himself, he hauled himself to his university. his friends were already waiting for him, one of them raising an eyebrow at him and his appearance, “you look like hell.” “thanks,” y/n muttered, having no energy to even fight back, sipping his coffee as him and his friends trudged to class. on the way to class, his friends were talking about a rumor, something he have no interest in unless its about him, “have you heard about the new TA?” one of his friend asked, poking y/n from the side for a reaction, y/n only grunted in response, barely paying attention to their conversation (& nearly walking into a pole if his friends didnt tug him aside with his bag.) “they say hes young,” another chimed in, “and apparently hes hot.” y/n only hummed, almost falling into a bush if it werent for his friends pulled him by the collar of his coat. “so?” someone scoffed, do y/n even know him..? maybe hes a friend of another friend. “he probably has those “im better than you.” mindset being so young.” ..whatever he said immediately went into y/n’s left ear and left from the right ear. when they finally reached their class, they sat in their usual place in the middle, all of them still talking except for y/n— whose mind kept drifting to last night, the warm hand, soft kisses, the aftercare.. “dude you’re zoning out again.” his friend lightly waved his hands in front of y/n, finally snapping him out of it. “ugh,” y/n groaned, “and whose idea was it to go to that bar yesterday-” before he could say anything else, the door clicked open, the room immediately went silent as footsteps echoed against the floor, some of the students instantly murmured about the person who had just entered the room, some complimenting their look, some talking about some rumors. y/n looked up from the table, eyes widened at who was standing in front of the lecture hall. the same man from last night? dressed in a crisp shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking the same as he had when y/n last saw him. he nearly ran out of the hall, but he needed that attendance. “good morning, everybody.” he greeted smoothly, the same deep voice that y/n heard last night. “ill be your TA for this semester.” you gotta be kidding me he screamed internally, panic shot through his veins, y/n yanked his hood up, tugging it so low it nearly covered his eyes, his friends, thinking hes having another episode, just shrugged it off and continued talking. he slumped forwards, elbows against the desk,, trying to hide himself. please don’t recognize me. please don’t recognize me. he glanced up again, trying to take a peek at the man in front to make sure hes not going coo coo crazy— but to his dismay, the same man from last night- now his TA was staring directly at him, smiling as if they were best friends. y/n froze, his brain short circuited, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as if on cue, the man introduced himself to the class once again. “you can call me Seo Seungjae.”

y/n nearly choked.

a/n hooo leee sheet i finished this. hooe lle sheet. smut took me,, 4 hours. aha. stared at my google docs like a madman whenever i typed something since id get distracted to something else TT ( ´ ω ` ) hopefully you guys enjoyed this ;; based on a real story of mine? harhar (excluding the TA part,) but i actually loved writing this,, i liked y/n and oc's dynamic here,! if anyone else liked this character,, ill probably write a second part ; i recently updated my carrd! feel free to check it out at the description,, my inbox r open as well ^^ goodnight everyone!! mwa

#mayi'swriting—#mayi'scharacter—#male reader #bottom male reader #bttm male reader #sub male reader #x male reader #oc x male reader #male x male #male x reader #dom character #male reader insert

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tbaluver · 8 months ago

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Hey (●’◡’●)ﾉ I really love your works and want to request a short/long story about lads guys reaction when they found out mc/reader has a high s*x drive and she's embarrassed about it ✧(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

It's okay if u don't want to ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)

I'll understand

P. S: I love youuuu ❤❤❤

If You Had A High Libido- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content, oral reader receiving, head canons/ reactions + small smut scenarios a/n: hihi anonnie! i'm so happy to hear you love my works and i hope this was okay lmk ! if not this doesn't exist okay ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) sorry it's taking me a while to write and post stuff i'm currently studying and it's taking up most of my time (っ- ‸ - ς) anyways i hope you enjoy reading ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ p.s i love you too cutie ! your emoticons are soso cute i love them !! (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

poor baby was so confused on why you wanted to go for so many rounds. he thought he wasn't doing enough for you until he asked and that's when you embarrassingly told him about your high libido

"But....do you feel good?" He asked, tilting his head curiously.

"So good, that I can't get enough of you" You whisper, leaning in to press your forehead against his before pressing a heated kiss on his lips.

Xavier is always there to please you whenever you need or wanted him too. He can handle pretty much anything. If he was tired after many rounds, he'll lie down on his back and let you ride him til you meet your sweet release again. He'll give you plenty of options. You can ride his face, his thigh, whatever you want until you were satisfied.

When he says he'll be there for you, he means it. When you were whimpering softly, desperately ignoring the heat growing down there as you try to go back to sleep. You didn't want to wake up your sleeping boyfriend but it seems he was already awake. You felt his arms snake around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"Would you like me to help you?" He knew you would be lying if you said no, even if he slides his hand in between your legs to find you practically soaking already. You bit your lip, feeling his hard erection against your ass.

Zayne:

He didn't understand why you were so embarrassed about telling him. He knows and can read you so well. You can't hide anything from this man. He noticed the way you bit your lip when he licked off the excess ice cream on his fingers or when your thighs clenched when you watched him get dressed.

He would reassure you that having a high libido is natural to have and there is no "normal" sex drive.

"I can assure there is nothing to be embarrassed about having a high libido." He says, his voice remaining monotone as he adjusts his glasses. "Just tell me how I can help you."

He would not be irritated or bothered at all if you needed him. Although if he was busy with work then he'll make a couple arrangements to make sure he finishes his reports while you get your fill. He'll keep you seated on his lap and let you ride off his thigh or he'll keep a toy or his finger or two in you as he continues to finish his patient report with his other free hands.

He'll know what you want whenever you press your ass against him whenever you both cook or whenever you sit on his lap.

He slips a finger under your panties, pulling them down with ease. His cock was hard and he could feel your cunt soaking quickly. He settles you on top of the counter, slowly pushing his length inside of you. His pace starts off slow as your body hums in response.

“That’s it...just like that's my good girl”

The pot that was already cooking was probably close to burning as you two were distracted meeting your sweet release.

Rafayel:

Oh, He loves it way more than he should and he uses this to his advantage to feed off his little praise kink. He just loves to hear his cutie need him so so bad. Hearing you beg and whine for him is like a siren's song to his ears, attracting him closer to you.

"What's wrong cutie?" He asks, tilting his head to the side as he tucks the stray hair behind your ear. You bury your head in his chest, too flustered to admit you wanted more, even after all the rounds you've done together.

"Want m-more" You murmur, your voice muffled against his chest. He chuckles softly, clearly amused, and continues to tease you while gently stroking your hair. "What's that? You need my dick again? Do you want me to fill you up princess?"

You respond by rolling your hips, grinding against him, hoping he would get the idea.

He'll fill you up everyday or whenever you need him too. He loves watching you beg and drip a mix of yours and his juices down your thighs every time as if you were in heat.

"Want me that much? Gonna fill you up so much." Feeling his cum ooze down your legs, his dick going impossibly deeper inside of you. Snapping his hips as whines escape your lips.

Sylus:

“Satisfied baby?”

Your core ached for more and you silently debated on telling him. You knew if you told him you were satisfied, your vibrator or your hands can’t even compare what he does to please you. You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that was forming in between them, not realizing Sylus notices this.

He leaned down, tracing kisses down your jawline, to your neck to grab your attention again. “Use your words baby.” He whispers hotly, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

"M-more Sy.."

It does not take him that long to get used to your high libido. If anything he can match your energy or do more. He'll keep going even if his stamina runs out, if it ever runs out.

Sometimes he's uses this to tease you. While he's away for a couple days, he'll send you pictures of his body. His shirt slightly lifted up to give you a tease of his abs and his v-line peeking above his waistband.

If he was feeling mean, he'll send you a mirror pic of his chiseled abdominal, and his carved v-line leading down to the girthiest dick you're familiar with or he'll send you a video of him stroking his dick to get you riled up. "Need my pretty girl to wrap her lips around it"

You're like a drug to him and he's addicted to you. He wants to spend as much time he has with you and he does not find you to be a bother if you were feeling needy when he was in his office.

He buries his head in your folds and you can feel his tongue in and out of you. You push your hips back to meet more of him as he reaches down with one hand to stroke himself. He groans into you, the vibrations bringing you closer to the edge. You reach down to play with your clit as he fucked you with his tongue.

He needed to be inside you as much as you want him to be.

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edenunbuilt · 2 months ago

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── ϧ𝑒 packing it up.ೃ࿔

℘ jj maybank x fem!kook!reader ৴ length: 0.6k ৴ time of posting: 9:48pm

summary: y/n holds jj through the night. it's kinda new for him

content: sfw ﾉ soft!jj ﾉ not proof read ﾉ kook reader

author's notes: see end for notes

jj never stayed the night. that was the rule.

no cuddling. no waking up in tangled sheets. no letting someone look at him like he was worth sticking around for.

and yet, here he was.

her room was nothing like the places he was used to crashing, he can accept that much as his gaze flickers over the delicate and antique furniture. it smelled like lavender and something sweeter, something distinctly her. soft, warm, untouched by the sharp edges of the world he knew. the kind of place that didn’t feel temporary.

he should’ve left hours ago. should’ve done what he always did—made some dumb joke, thrown on his shirt, and disappeared before the sun could catch him still wrapped up in her.

but he couldn’t.

not when she had looked at him like that.

she should’ve turned him away. when he showed up at her door, bloody and exhausted, she should’ve done the smart thing and shut him out. should’ve decided, right then and there, that his baggage wasn’t worth it.

instead, she just sighed—like she’d been expecting this. like she wasn’t surprised that he had nowhere else to go.

and then she pulled him inside.

she didn’t press him for details. didn’t flinch when he winced under her touch, just guided him to the bathroom and stood between his legs, dabbing at his split lip with careful fingers. she was so close. close enough that he could see the worry knitting her brows together, the softness in her eyes, the way she bit the inside of her cheek when he hissed at the sting.

jj should’ve made a joke—damn, princess, if you wanted to get me undressed, you could’ve just asked. something stupid to make her roll her eyes, to shake off whatever was shifting between them. but for the first time in his life, he didn’t have anything to say, the words catching in his throat.

because she wasn’t looking at him with pity. or judgment. or regret.

she was looking at him like he was worth keeping.

and it hit him then, like a sucker punch to the gut.

somewhere along the way, he had stopped keeping his distance.

it hadn’t happened all at once. it had been in the little things—the moments he hadn’t realized mattered until it was too late.

like the first time he made her laugh, really laugh. the kind that made her throw her head back, eyes crinkling, completely unguarded. he remembered staring, thinking: shit, i want to hear that again.

or the night she found him at a party, already too many drinks deep and buzzing with the need to self-destruct. he’d made a move on her, fully expecting her to let him. she didn’t. just pulled his drink from his hand, wrinkled her nose, and told him he was embarrassing himself. then, instead of leaving, she hooked her pinky with his and told him to come sit.

she never gave him what he expected.

never pushed his buttons, never bit back when he tried to start something just to keep from feeling too much. she just let him be. let him breathe.

and that was new.

jj rolled onto his side, gaze settling on her, curled up next to him in the dim glow of her bedroom. her fingers twitched slightly where they rested against his ribs, like she was making sure he was still there.

he was.

and that was the problem.

because jj had spent his whole life running. keeping people at arm’s length, never staying long enough to make it hurt when he left. but now—god, now he wasn’t sure if he could leave at all.

he was in too deep.

and for the first time, he didn’t want to find his way out.

𐙚𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚

author's notes: this is a fair warning that most of my works will most likely be kook!reader. i write to escape my not so glamourous life and if i wanted to daydream about being poor, i wouldn't write in the first place. anywayssss i do have an in-progress fic that involves an oc and i'm not sure if i'll just rewrite it to be self-insert or if i'll post it as is. all my drabbles come from snippets of said fic and would make much more sense if we started from the beginning lol.

#ಌ signed with love #edenunbuilt.ᐟ 𐙚˙⋆✶#jj maybank x reader #jj x you #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj fanfiction #jj imagine #jj fluff #jj maybank x female reader #outer banks x reader #outer banks #obx fanfiction #gen is feeling soft #jj maybank my beloved

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mylovesstuffs · 1 month ago

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OT13 reacting to their s/o having curly hair

Request: GIOOOOODDDDDD MOORNINGGGG YOU BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL SPECTACULAR HUMAN ｡ﾟ( ﾟ^∀^ﾟ)ﾟ｡

it’s meeeeeeee your 🫧 anon (✿◠‿◠) before i begin i must give you words of thanks for fueling my (and all of our) delusions 🙂‍↕️ it’s very much appreciated in this economy (づ￣ ³￣)づ

since ur requests are open again would u mind indulging me just one more time? 🥹 how svt would react to reader having curly hair ╥﹏╥ i saw one (and only one :/) somewhere awhile ago and i haven’t been able to find any since so i would 🥰LOVE🥰 if your beautiful wonderful spectacular brain would do its sparkly pixie magic 🪄 on this for me whenever you get free time 🥹 absolutely no rush, of course!!

anyways, even if you don’t get to it I STILL LOVE UUUU INFINITY REGARDLESS MWAH 💋 I HOPE YOU HAVE A LOVELY DAY(。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

A/N: YOU’RE SO SWEET OMG!!! Your energy is literally sunshine in text form 😦

I LOVE this request!! Curly hair appreciation is SO underrated and I’d be absolutely honored to write this one for you!! I’ll keep it ambiguous and relatable, so all the curly-headed cuties can feel SEEN. Thank you for trusting me with your vision again, and for always being such a ray of light!

P.S. MWAH BACK AT YOU!!

Seungcheol:

Lowkey obsessed. He loves running his fingers through your curls, even if you’re like “noooo, it’s gonna frizz!”

Always tells you how gorgeous your hair is, especially when you get self-conscious.

“You’re literally perfect!”

Might steal your diffuser to ‘help’ dry your hair but ends up doing it wrong lmao.

Jeonghan:

Teases you sometimes like, “Did a bird make a nest in here?” but actually melts inside because you’re adorable.

Loves watching you take care of your curls and enjoys when you let him help with your hair routine.

Buys you fancy satin pillowcases and pretends he’s nonchalant about it but secretly researched “how to protect curly hair at night.”

Joshua:

Super gentle with your curls, always asking if he can touch them.

Loves seeing you with your natural hair, will hype you up every single time.

Might playfully tug at a curl just to see it bounce back and giggle like a kid.

Also the type to say, “youur hair smells so nice!”

Jun:

Mesmerized by the texture. Will 100% stare at your hair when you’re talking because he’s so fascinated.

“It’s like art,” he says, poking at a curl.

Likes how soft and cozy your curls feel when you cuddle.

Might suggest you both try silly hair masks together, just for fun.

Hoshi:

Completely dramatic about it. “Why is your hair SO COOL?!” every time.

Loves when you wear it down so he can get lost in it.

Randomly sticks his face in your hair and says, “It smells like you!”

Will also take blurry selfies of you two mid-cuddle and caption them “the fluff squad.”

Wonwoo:

Admires how beautiful your curls are.

Looooves resting his head on your shoulder and feeling your soft hair brush against his face.

Will notice the effort you put into taking care of them and bring you little gifts like hair oils or scrunchies.

Very sincere compliments. “You look really pretty today.”

Woozi:

Lowkey loves your curls but pretends to be indifferent.

“It’s just hair,” but then gets flustered when you catch him staring.

Loves how your hair smells and might absentmindedly play with a curl when you’re sitting next to him.

Occasionally suggests writing a song about how cute you look 😭😭😭

Dokyeom:

Hypeman to the MAX. “LOOK AT THOSE CURLS! YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL!”

Loves tucking your hair behind your ear only for it to curl under your ear, and then he giggles like crazy.

Gets way too into helping you shop for hair stuff, reading every label like an exam.

Constantly says, “You should model your hair, it’s like from a magazine.”

Mingyu:

SO TOUCHY. Always playing with your curls, even when you say, “Stop, I’ll get frizzy!”

Thinks you’re the cutest thing on earth and tells you constantly.

Buys you way too many hair products like, “I don’t know what this does but it says curl on it.” [protect my man!]

Loves when you wear one of his oversized hoodies and your hair just flows out cutely.

Minghao:

Effortlessly stylish himself, so he appreciates your unique beauty.

Definitely suggests fun haircare routines or treatments because he’s into self-care too.

Will compliment you like, “Your curls are so you, they’re perfect,” and genuinely mean it.

Loves when your hair gets a little wild after a long day and you don’t bother taming it.

Seungkwan:

Super playful but also super loving.

Loves when your curls frame your face, always says you look extra cute when you wake up with bedhead.

“How are you THIS adorable 24/7?”

Sends you memes about curly hair struggles and relates hard with you.

Vernon:

Obsessed with how your curls match your vibe.

Loves burying his face in your hair when hugging you from behind.

Always notices when you try a new curly hairstyle and says something like, “Yo, that’s fire.”

Will try to sneak pics of you when your curls are all fluffy because he loves how soft you look.

Dino:

Super fascinated. Might ask a million questions like, “How long does it take to style them?”

Loves how unique your curls make you and is always super supportive.

Will randomly twirl a curl around his finger while you’re talking and not even realize it.

“You’re like…extra soft,” he says while giving you the tightest bear hug ever.

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 11 months ago

Note

Hiii, how are you? Just want to let you know that I love your fics, they're so so good! (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ~

Could I request Rook with an cuddlier Mc? Like any free time they have, Mc is cuddling with him, kissing his cheeks and face and the such. They just really feel comfortable cuddling and like the domesticy feelings, I hope I worded everything alright. English isn't my first language hehe

Thanks for reading this and all good if you don't want to write! :)

Rook Hunt:

Rook felt like he was in heaven.

To have his treasure cuddled up in his arms at every chance they got made him the luckiest man in the world, as there was nothing greater than getting to observe you up close. The way your body would relax against his when he wrapped his arms around you, the sweet scent of your skin invading his senses as you beckoned him closer with a mumbled plea that he couldn’t deny. You would bare your neck to him and he would submit to your whims, allowing your lips to grace him with a thousand loving kisses before he felt content.

He thinks he might be driven insane if you denied him this pleasure, the pleasure of being loved by you with an intensity that rivaled his own. You held him close each night like you feared he might disappear and perhaps that was his own fault, with his whimsical personality and the careful distance he placed despite worshipping the ground you walked on. Rook hardly allowed people to be close to him, emotionally not physically, and this relationship was one of the things that instilled a fear like no other. How was he to get close to another person if you left him? If this love proved false?

Rook would rather not think of it.

When he laid like this with you, the only think he should think about was the bright future ahead.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Rook Hunt #Rook Hunt x Reader #Scenario

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jungkoode · 1 month ago

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死 KKANGPAE | #12 死

† breaking point †

"Eunchae stealing your sleeping spot was not in your bingo card for the camping trip, nor was it sleeping in Jeon's tent. And... everything that comes with it."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 8.3k

rating: explicit, 18+

content: your sleeping spot being taken, having to share a tent with The Chief, petty arguments, cold night, accidental touches, too much wriggling, jeon getting pissy, fights, and somehow smut, jeon's smugness shining through (finally!) dry humping, grinding, nipple/breast play, jeon on cleaning duty.

☠ author's note ☠

I— LOOK. I knew this chapter was gonna be long because damn. I was so looking forward to writing their first ~encounter~ that I absolutely put my whole kikussy into it.

BUT. UHM. 8k WORDS?? WITH MORE THAN HALF BEING SMUT?? (•᷊ิ꒳•᷊ิ)

Well. I went overboard. This definitely could've been two chapters, but then again it would make zero sense to divide the scene. ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵇᵃᵇˡʸ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵃˢˢᵃˢˢⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᵗⁱˡ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ˢᵒ.

If this is your first time reading my smut, welcome to the thunderdome! If you're a returning customer, you know the drill. Either way, consider this my formal apology to my FBI agent who has definitely seen better days.

Enjoy the treat, you thirsty catastrophes (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ And don't worry—there's MANY more to come! This is just the appetizer. The whole menu is extensive and frankly concerning.

⚔ socials ⚔

read on ao3

read on wattpad

tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

The camp's finally quiet, just leaves rustling and the fire dying down somewhere in the distance.

Everyone's crashed after today's chaos—because apparently, throwing a bunch of criminals together in the woods is exactly as messy as it sounds.

You duck into your tent, already dreaming about passing out, only to find... well, shit.

Yunjin's fast asleep, which isn't surprising. What is surprising is Eunchae sprawled across her like some drunk octopus, taking up what was supposed to be your spot. Her arm's thrown over Yunjin's waist, leg tangled with hers, dead to the world and probably going to wake up with one hell of a hangover.

Great. Just perfect.

You stare at the scene, torn between laughing and groaning. It's kind of adorable, in a "my-drunk-friend-is-a-koala" way, but it also means you're shit out of luck for sleeping arrangements.

Waking Eunchae isn't really an option—she's out cold, breathing deep and steady in that way only truly hammered people can manage. Besides, Yunjin would probably give you that disappointed look if you disturbed them. She's got that whole protective big sister thing going on, even though technically you're all trained killers.

Fucking hell.

With a sigh that's probably a bit more dramatic than necessary, you grab a spare blanket from your bag and drape it over Eunchae's shoulder. They both look so peaceful, which is honestly weird considering what you all do for a living.

You turn and head back out, already dreading the crick in your neck you're going to have tomorrow. The fire's still going, barely, throwing off just enough warmth to make sitting out here slightly less miserable.

You're trying to soak up what's left of the heat when footsteps break the silence. You don't need to look up to know who it is—there's only one person who moves that quietly while still somehow managing to feel like an oncoming storm.

Jeon emerges from the darkness like he owns it, because of course he does. His eyes scan the scene, taking in everything from the empty chairs to your clearly displaced presence, and you just know he's cataloging every detail like the perfectionist asshole he is.

He raises an eyebrow, that infuriating half-smile playing on his lips. "Couldn't sleep?"

You shake your head, trying for casual and probably missing by a mile. "Eunchae's taken over my spot. She's passed out on top of Yunjin like some drunk koala."

"And here you are," he says, sounding frankly too amused, "playing the martyr by the fire."

"It's not about being a martyr," you snap, exhaustion making your voice sharper than intended. "Just didn't have the heart to wake her."

There's a couple beats of silence where he watches you with that intense look of his, like he's trying to see right through you. The cold night air nips at your skin, and you suppress a shiver.

Finally, Jeon sighs, his shoulders dropping just a fraction.

"Look, I've got a tent," he says, sounding like he's already regretting the words. "It's insulated. No sleeping bags, just blankets. You can crash there if you don't fancy freezing your ass off out here."

Your eyes narrow, trying to read between the lines of his offer. Sharing space with Jeon is dangerous—all that heat and tension and the constant dance of 'we shouldn't, but god do we want to.'

Fuck. This is a bad idea.

But it's cold, and you're tired, and the thought of a warm tent is more tempting than it has any right to be.

"You sure about this?" You eye him suspiciously. "Since when do you share anything?"

His lips twitch, and you catch that ghost of a smile he rarely lets slip.

"I don't," he admits, and god, his voice shouldn't sound that good at this hour. "But I'm not enough of an asshole to let you freeze. Besides," he adds, almost like an afterthought, "last time we shared a bed, I actually slept."

"Your tent, huh?" You can't help but push, because that's what you do. "What, you gonna play gentleman and sleep outside?"

He actually smirks at that, the moonlight catching on his lip ring.

"Not a chance." His eyes lock with yours, and fuck, there's that heat again. "We'll share. Got enough blankets."

The words hang between you like the smoke from the previous cigarette, still lingering and heavy with everything you're both pretending not to want.

You stand up, brushing dirt off your pants and trying to ignore how the dying fire isn't the only thing making you feel warm right now.

"Fine," you say, resigned. "But keep your hands to yourself. I'm just here because it's cold."

He laughs, low and rough, and you hate how it makes your stomach flip.

"Same here," he says, already turning toward his tent like he knows you'll follow.

And you do, because of course you do. You trail after him, telling yourself this is just about staying warm and not at all about the way his shoulder blades move under his shirt or how he smells like pine and wood and danger.

Such a fucking horrible idea.

But you're following him anyway.

The moment you step into Jeon's tent, you're hit with warmth. Not the cozy kind—more like the desperate kind that barely takes the edge off the cold trying to burrow into your bones.

The space is small, and fuck, it smells like him. Pine and mint and something darker that makes your head spin a little. It's not fair how his scent alone can make you feel like this, like you're unraveling at the seams.

He jerks his head toward the spot beside him—not an offer, an order. Typical. He's always like this, acting like everything he does should just be accepted without question.

You stand there longer than necessary, watching as he turns onto his side, showing you his back.

Drawing a line.

Because that's Jeon for you—edges and boundaries, even when he's pretending to be nice.

When you finally lie down, you move like you're defusing a bomb. The tent feels too small suddenly, the fabric ceiling pressing down like it's trying to suffocate you both.

Your heart's going crazy, and it's stupid. He's just lying there, being his usual brooding self. But you can feel him, like some kind of electric current running through the air between you.

"What about tomorrow?" Your whisper barely disturbs the darkness. "When everyone sees I wasn't in my tent? They'll put it together."

He stiffens—just slightly, but you catch it. Then he rolls over to face you, and Christ, the way he looks at you should be a crime.

"Then make sure you're gone by dawn," he says, voice hard as steel. "Get out before anyone's awake, and there'll be nothing to realize."

He's close enough that you can smell mint mixing with tobacco on his breath.

Huh. So he probably did chew gum after that cigarette.

"By dawn," you echo, matching his tone even though your pulse is doing gymnastics in your throat.

He stares at you for a moment longer, like he's trying to read something in your face. Whatever he's looking for, he either doesn't find it or doesn't trust himself to acknowledge it.

Then he's turning away again, another wall going up brick by brick.

The silence comes back heavier than before. You pull the blanket tighter, but it doesn't help. The cold seeps in anyway, settling deep in your bones.

Jeon's lying there like he's trying to turn himself to stone, fighting the same thing you're pretending not to feel. But it's there—even with his back to you, even with the frigid air between you.

And it's cold.

Motherfucking cold.

You're shivering so hard your teeth are chattering, and god, these blankets might as well be made of paper for all the good they're doing. Every muscle in your body is locked up tight, fighting against the cold that's trying to burrow straight into your bones.

You force a big inhale, summoning as much body heat as possible, and time does that weird thing where it stretches out forever, like cold molasses, each minute feeling like a small eternity.

The quietness that has settled over in Jeon's tent is only broken by the sound of your teeth doing their best impression of a woodpecker.

Then—warmth.

It happens so fast you almost miss it. One second you're freezing your ass off, the next Jeon's arm is wrapping around you, pulling you against him. The heat of his body hits you like a gush of hot AC hair, and suddenly your face feels like it's on fire for entirely different reasons.

"What the—" You start, but your mouth stutters because holy shit, he's close.

"Shh." His voice rumbles against the back of your neck, and you suppress a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold. "I can't sleep with your teeth clacking together like you're trying to send a damn Morse code."

He's like a human furnace pressed against your back, all solid muscle and ridiculous body heat. You can feel every breath he takes, the slight brush of his legs against yours, and fuck, you sense every single point of contact between you.

Nevertheless, you try to swallow past the lump in your throat.

"Sorry, didn't realize I was being that loud."

Your hands hover awkwardly, because where the hell are you supposed to put them now?

"It's fine," he mutters, and you can practically hear him rolling his eyes. "Just keep it down. And try to warm up or whatever."

"I'm trying," you shoot back, but the words lack bite because his warmth is already seeping into you, melting away the cold that's been torturing you for the past hour.

Both in your body and your voice.

He doesn't say anything else, but his arm tightens around you just slightly. Like he's making sure you're actually getting warm. The tension starts bleeding out of your muscles, the shivering finally subsiding as his heat wraps around you like a cocoon.

Then, the tent falls quiet again, except for the intermittent sounds filtering in from outside and your synchronized breathing.

You're still a bit flustered—because of course you are—but grateful for the warmth. Who knew the ice king could actually be... decent?

Dangerous thought territory. Abort.

Now, about getting comfortable... That's a whole other battle.

You shift around, trying to find a position that doesn't make you feel like you're cuddling with a statue made of knives. Your elbow catches his ribs, your knee bumps his, and you're pretty sure you just elbowed him in the spleen.

You hear him sigh, and you already know what's coming.

"For fuck's sake, will you stay still?" Jeon's voice cuts through the darkness, irritated.

"I'm trying to get comfortable," you snap back. "Your gang tattoos aren't exactly memory foam, you know."

"Maybe if you'd stop wiggling like a damn worm on crack, you'd be settled by now." He adjusts his leg with an annoyed huff that you can feel against your neck.

"Maybe if you weren't built like a bag of knives, it wouldn't be so hard," you grumble, pushing back against him just to be petty.

His laugh is low and mocking, sending vibrations through your back. "Bag of knives? That's new."

"Don't laugh at me," you whine, hating how your body responds to that sound. "I'm cold, uncomfortable, and now I'm basically superglued to you."

"Superglued to me?" His hand finds your hip (probably to steady you), grip firm, and fuck—that shouldn't feel as good as it does. "You're the one who's been squirming like you're trying to start a fire."

"How am I supposed to relax when I'm sharing a blanket with a human cactus?"

But you try anyway, forcing your muscles to unwind even as every accidental touch between you feels like it's on fire.

"A human cactus that's keeping your ass from freezing," he mutters, voice rougher than before. "Now pick a position and stick with it before I lose my mind."

Too late for that, you think, trying to ignore how his hand is still on your hip, burning through your clothes like an inferno.

"This is torture," you grumble, squirming again as another rock tries to become one with your hip. "Pretty sure this ground is actually made of spite and broken dreams."

"For fuck's—will you stop moving?" Jeon's voice is strained, like he's counting backwards from ten in his head.

"I wouldn't have to if you weren't built like a weapon rack!" Your whisper comes out sharper than intended, but seriously, how is anyone this uncomfortable to cuddle with?

"Fine. Here—" He shifts suddenly, probably trying to help, but his elbow finds your ribs instead.

You wince. Because that shit hurt. Man's made of strength and muscles, so being the target of his attacks (even if it's an accidental elbowing) is not exactly pleasant.

"Jesus fuck, Jeon!" You swat at his arm, completely forgetting about staying quiet. "Are you trying to give me internal bleeding?"

"Me?" He swats back, definitely pissed now. "You're the one treating this like a goddamn dance floor."

"I wouldn't have to if you'd just—"

"Just what?" He cuts you off, and you can tell his jaw is clenching. "Just magically transform into your perfect little pillow?"

"That'd be a start," you snap, past caring how childish you sound. "Better than this human armory act you've got going."

"Un-fucking-believable." He mutters, but you absolutely hear him. "Try to do something nice for once..."

"Nice? Is that what we're calling attempted murder by elbow now?" You can't keep the bite out of your voice.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm calling it!" His grip tightens on your hip, and fuck—

That really shouldn't feel good. Like, at all.

"Well, your version of 'nice' feels a lot like getting squeezed by a python," you shoot back, trying to ignore his hand placement.

"Python? Thought I was a bag of knives." There's something different in his voice now, like he's fighting back a laugh.

"Clearly you're gifted like that." The words come out softer than intended, your own anger fading into something dangerously close to amusement.

You both fall quiet, your almost-laughter seeping into the night. You're still pressed against him, but somehow the tension has shifted into something... different.

Dangerous.

"Done with your interpretive dance yet?" His voice still has that amused edge to it, the one that makes you want to elbow him again. On purpose this time.

"Maybe." You draw out the word just to be annoying. "If your tent wasn't trying to become one with my spine."

"Good." He sounds relieved, but there's still some tension bleeding into his tone. "Now can we please try to sleep before we have to do this shit all over again?"

You let yourself settle against his chest, and for a moment—just one blessed moment—everything's still. Then your nose starts itching like a bitch, and when you twist to scratch it, your elbow finds his ribs. Again.

"Fuck—"He hisses through his teeth. "Are you serious? Do you have a personal vendetta against my ribcage or something?"

"It was an itch," you snap back, not even trying to sound sorry anymore. "I'm not a fucking robot."

"Could've fooled me with all these assassination attempts." His voice drips with sarcasm. "Just stop wiggling! Every time you move it's like you're starting a riot in here."

"Well, maybe if your arm wasn't crushing me—" You try to adjust his grip, which only makes everything worse.

"My arm wouldn't be dead if you'd stop moving your goddamn hips like you're at a concert," he growls, but he shifts anyway, trying to find a better position.

"You're the one who decided spooning was the solution here," you remind him, because you're physically incapable of shutting up apparently.

"Yeah, to stop you from freezing to death, not to participate in whatever wrestling match you're trying to start!" And now he's frustrated.

"Oh, I'm sorry—" No, you're not. "Did you forget people actually move when they sleep? Or is that not covered in Assassin School?"

"Jesus fucking Christ." He clicks his tongue.

He tries to forcefully pull away all of a sudden, but you're already sitting up, blankets pooling around your waist as irritation floods your system.

"What the actual hell is your prob—"

The words die in your throat.

Oh.

OH.

Because there, in the dim light filtering through the tent, is some pretty compelling evidence of exactly what Jeon's problem is.

Your eyes snap to the very obvious bulge straining against the blanket around his hips, and suddenly his pissy attitude makes a lot more sense.

Holy shit.

Your brain short-circuits for a moment because—fuck. This isn't the first time you've noticed him getting hard around you.

Once could be biology, sure.

But twice?

That's starting to look like a pattern.

The realization hits you like a truck: maybe this tension isn't as one-sided as you thought. Maybe all those loaded looks and charged moments actually mean something.

Your eyes meet his, and the air in the tent gets about ten degrees hotter. There's a challenge in his gaze, like he's daring you to say something.

"Got something to say now?" His voice comes out rough, almost angry, but not entirely.

Your mouth goes dry, but you've never been one to back down. Especially not when you've got the upper hand.

"Yeah, actually." You can't help the smirk that tugs at your lips. "You could've just said you wanted to cuddle."

His eyebrows shoot up, caught between amusement and annoyance. "Cuddle? I was trying to shut you up so I could sleep."

"A pretty damn hard way to shut someone up," you shoot back, and god, the way his jaw clenches at your terrible pun is almost worth the whole uncomfortable night.

Jeon's eyes narrow, and he shifts uncomfortably. The movement only draws your attention back to his... situation, which isn't helping your concentration at all.

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly helping matters with all that ass giggling," he growls, and fuck—why does he sound that good when he's irritated?

You watch as he holds himself completely still, like he's trying to turn into a statue—like every single muscle in his body is tense, restraint is rolling off him in waves.

He looks like he's fighting a war with himself, and maybe he's losing.

"So what, this is my fault now?" You scoff, crossing your arms. "I'm responsible for your dick's opinions?"

"I'm not blaming you for shit," he snaps, voice stretched thin. "Trust me, I'm very aware of my own fucking body."

"And what it wants?" The words slip out before you can stop them, somewhere between a taunt and genuine curiosity.

His nostrils flare—got him—and his jaw clenches so hard you worry for his teeth. He looks away for a second, like he needs to physically remove you from his sight to think straight. When his eyes find yours again, there's something dark and hungry and god maybe you've died a little.

"What it wants doesn't matter," he says, each word careful and measured. "We're here for a reason, and it's not to play house or indulge in—"

"In what, Jeon? Basic human needs?" You cut him off because apparently, you have a death wish. "Because last time I checked, we're still human. Unfortunately."

He lets out a sharp laugh that sounds more like frustration than humor.

"You think I don't know that? But unlike some people, I can control myself."

And yeah, that would be have been convincing if his eyes weren't burning holes into you, if his gaze didn't keep dropping to your lips every few seconds.

"Is that so?" You lean forward slightly, watching him squirm. "Because from where I'm sitting, you're about two seconds away from snapping that famous self-control of yours."

"Fuck you," he growls, but there's something else dancing around in his tone that makes you slightly bolder.

"Maybe you'd like to."

His breath catches.

The look in his eyes makes your throat close. Raw need flashes across his face for a split second before he locks it down, trying his best to pull that cold enforcer mask back on.

"Don't push me." He says and it's rough, like it's supposed to be a warning.

But you notice how his eyes keep darting away from your face, like he can't trust himself to look at you directly.

"I'm not pushing anything." You keep your voice steady despite your racing pulse. "I'm just not running away."

"You're playing with fire," he bites out, but his tongue flicks at his lip ring—that nervous tell of his that makes heat pool in your gut.

"Am I?" You tilt your head, watching him fidget with the silver hoop. "Sure looks like you're the one burning up here."

His hands clench into fists. He's fighting for control, you can see that.

"You know the rules. No attachments. That's how we survive. That's how we keep our heads."

You can't help but scoff.

"Attachments? Who said anything about catching feelings?" You shift slightly, watching his eyes snap back to you. "I'm talking about scratching an itch. One we both clearly have."

He licks his lips again, slower this time, metal ring catching the dim light. For a moment, expression morphs, and you see it—the same thing you're feeling, raw and desperate.

Desire.

Jeon's gaze hardens, but not in the way you'd expect it to. "Don't twist my words. You know exactly what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." You meet his stare head-on. "But sex is just sex, Jeon. We're not breaking any rules if there aren't any feelings involved."

Before he can build another wall between you, you move.

In one fluid motion, you're straddling him, and holy fuck—you're sure the body heat he's producing alone could keep up with an oven. And his cock—god his cock is hard against you and definitely happy to see you there.

"See?" Your voice comes out lower than intended, perhaps a tad wanting. "No attachments. Just two people who need to get off."

His eyes are almost black now, pupils blown wide. His hands hover over your thighs like he's fighting himself, torn between pushing you away and pulling you closer.

"You really think it's that simple?" The strain in his voice is delicious.

"I think," you breathe, leaning in until you can feel his exhale against your lips, "that we make our own rules. I want you, Jeon. And judging by what I'm feeling right now—" You shift slightly in his lap, drawing a sharp breath from him, "—you want me too."

His lips are close. Pine and wood and him fill your lungs, making you dizzy. You watch as his control frays at the edges, watch him wrestle with the rules he's built his life around.

"Fuck." The word tears from his throat like it hurts, rough and desperate.

"That's the idea," you murmur, and then you're closing that last inch between you, consequences be damned.

And God.

His lips are soft—way softer than you expected. That's your first coherent thought when Jeon finally, finally kisses you.

He starts slow. Careful. Like he's still fighting with himself even as his mouth moves against yours.

It's driving you insane. Because fuck, you've seen how he usually is—all storm and fury—but right now? He's taking his sweet fucking time.

You can taste the hesitation on his tongue when he licks at the seam of your lips. But it's pretend, you don't even question that, because you can feel his hunger as well. And you part your lips immediately—it's not like you to play coy, not when you've been wanting this for so long.

The first slide of his tongue against yours makes your chest tighten. There's something almost reverent in how he explores your mouth, like he's memorizing every detail. His lip ring clicks against your teeth and shit—that is just fucking hot, okay.

He tastes like cigarettes and mint—a combination that screams Jeon—that makes heat pool low in your belly.

His hands start wandering then, those big, calloused palms that you've caught yourself staring at during briefings. One traces up your spine, and even through your shirt, his touch makes you burn.

The other hand finds your neck, thumb pressed just under your jaw. Possessive. Demanding. Your pulse jumps against his fingers.

The kiss deepens, turns messy. Wet.

His tongue strokes against yours with purpose now, and Christ—the sounds you're both making are absolutely filthy. All slick slides and breathless little noises that make your cheeks flush.

You arch into him instinctively, wanting—needing—more. Because this? This careful exploration? It's not enough.

Not nearly enough.

You can't help the moan that slips out when his tongue slides against yours just right. It's embarrassingly needy, but fuck it—he's earned that reaction with the way he's kissing you.

"Keep it down," he murmurs against your mouth, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. "Unless you want an audience."

His thumb presses against your lips, calloused skin catching slightly. When you meet his eyes, his gaze darkens. The possibility of getting caught should probably worry you more than it turns you on, but... well. Here you are.

His hand traces down your spine like he's mapping every vertebra, and christ—who knew the guy who barely speaks two words could make you feel so much with just his fingertips? Each touch feels prepared, like he's conducting some kind of thorough investigation of what makes you squirm.

"Relax," he growls, low and rough in a way that does not help you relax at all. The vibration of his voice seems to travel straight between your legs. "I've got you."

That's kind of the problem, you think hazily as his other hand slides down to your hip with maddening slowness. Your breath hitches when his fingers slip under your crewneck, skin-on-skin contact sending electricity up your spine.

He takes his sweet fucking time inching the fabric up, like he's got all night to drive you insane. The contrast of his burning hands against your cooler skin makes you shiver. His thumb brushes just below your navel and fuck—you bite your lip to keep quiet.

You want to tell him to hurry up, to stop being such a tease, but there's something intoxicating about the way he's touching you—like he's savoring every inch. Like he's been thinking about this as much as you have.

"Is this..." His voice trails off, rough and uncertain.

You've never heard him sound like that before—like he's actually struggling for words.

"Is this what?"

You can barely get the words out. Hard to form coherent thoughts when his hand is burning a path up your ribs.

"Is this okay?" The question rumbles from his chest.

His eyes are fixed on where his hand disappears under your shirt, as if he's memorizing every inch.

"Yeah." You manage a small nod, not trusting your voice for more.

Fuck yes it's okay. It's been okay since the moment his mouth claimed yours.

Something in your answer must satisfy him because his hand slides higher, mapping your skin underneath with a precision that makes you shiver.

It's maddening how gentle he's being. You've seen those hands snap bones, seen them steady a rifle for impossible shots. Now they're ghosting over your skin like you're something precious, something that might shatter if he pushes too hard.

"Jeon." His name comes out embarrassingly breathy, halfway between a whine and a plea. "Keep going."

The bastard actually chuckles, the sound oscillating through you where you're pressed together. "Don't have to say it twice."

But he keeps that same torturous pace, each sweep of his thumb deliberately slow. Like he's got all night to take you apart piece by piece. Like he wants to drive you crazy.

You're starting to think he does.

His proximity is a heady thing and you could swear there's a storm raging behind his heartbeat.

You press closer, desperately seeking more contact.

More friction.

More anything.

But Jeon's self-control is nothing short of fucking legendary, it seems.

"Slow," he murmurs, eyes fixed on where his hand disappears beneath your shirt. "We take this slow."

You could fucking cry. His calloused fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, each touch light, teasing, and the contrast between his rough hands and gentle movements is driving you insane.

His other hand joins the first, sliding under your clothes with a confidence that borders on arrogance.

Yeah, he's smug; but you could swear there's something reverent in the way he touches you—and it's only because of that that you don't punch him.

Those dark eyes lock onto yours once more, asking a silent question.

A question he doesn't need to mutter.

You manage a quick nod, and he wastes no time pulling your crewneck and long sleeve over your head in one smooth motion.

But the universe hates you as much as you seem to hate yourself.

Because of course—of fucking course—you're wearing the most basic, practical bra imaginable. Why would you have worn anything sexy today? Not like you planned on Chief Jeon getting you half-naked in his tent.

His eyes rake over you, taking in every detail. When that infamous smirk tugs at his pierced lip, you already know he's about to be insufferable.

"Didn't dress up for me, huh?"

Heat floods your cheeks. You swat at his chest, torn between embarrassment and the urge to wipe that smug look off his face.

"Shut the fuck up, Jeon. Wasn't exactly expecting to get fucked today."

That deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, and fuck—it vibrates against you in a way it should be illegal.

But it's his eyes that get you—dark, hooded, pure filth swirling behind those orbs.

"You're acting like I care." He says as if you've told him a funny joke. "Trust me, I don't."

And his hands? Yeah, his hands haven't stopped their torturous exploration, mapping every inch of exposed skin like he's got a point to prove. Each brush of his callouses sends electricity down your spine. The bastard knows exactly what he's doing.

You want to hate him for that.

You don't.

His fingers trace your bra strap and he leans in close—so close you can feel his breath hot against your ear.

"Can I?"

Like he even needs to ask. Like you haven't been thinking about his hands on your bare skin since that first sparring session.

You manage a shaky nod, pulse thundering in your ears. One quick flick of his fingers and the piece comes undone. The clasp sounds obscenely loud in the quiet room.

The bra falls away and oh—the way he looks at you makes your core throb. His eyes rake over your exposed breasts in pure appreciation, hungry and possessive. You'd feel self-conscious if it wasn't so fucking hot.

When his hands finally—finally—cup your breasts, you can't help the gasp that escapes. His thumbs brush over your nipples and your back arches instinctively, pressing into his touch. His hands are so big they practically engulf you, rough and warm and perfect.

Then it's his breath. It fans hot against your neck and fuck—just the anticipation has you squirming. He hovers there, taking his sweet time, the bastard.

When his lips finally press against your throat, you have to bite your lip to keep quiet.

He presses a kiss. Then another. Then another.

Each one is slow, tongue flicking against your pulse point leisurely. Your head falls back automatically, giving him better access. Like he needs the invitation.

"Ah—"

"Shh." His voice vibrates against your skin, equal parts warning and amusement—and fuck his smirk.

His fingers are a fucking menace on your breasts, rolling your nipples between thumb and forefinger until they're almost painfully hard. And yeah okay, your pussy is literally throbbing at this point.

"You're so damn vocal," he grunts against your throat, punctuating the words with a sharp nip that makes you gasp.

You want to tell him to fuck off, but your brain's a blue screen as of right now. Your fingers find his hair instead, tangling in those dark strands just to have something to hold onto. To ground yourself while he systematically takes you apart with his mouth and hands.

But enough is enough.

So you shove at his chest, creating just enough space to think straight. His eyes widen for a split second before that infuriating shit-eating grin appears.

As if he knows exactly what you're thinking.

Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, tugging impatiently. Off. Now. The fabric joins your discarded clothes somewhere on the floor (you're too busy staring at his chest to care where).

"Someone's eager." Voice pure sin, the jackass is clearly enjoying himself.

"If I'm half-naked, you better be too," you snap back, but the breathiness in your voice ruins any attempt at sounding annoyed. "Fair's fair."

He doesn't respond verbally, no.

Instead, he yanks you back against him and the feel of his bare skin against yours makes you want to keen. His hands grip your waist fiercely while yours explore the ridges of his abs, the hard planes of his chest. Each muscle twitches under your touch.

When his mouth claims yours again, it's different—hungrier, deeper. His tongue slides against yours in a way that makes your pulse quicken, and you can't help but press closer, fingers curling around his neck to pull him down.

And maybe sounds you're making should be embarrassing—all breathy sighs and desperate little whimpers. But with his hands burning paths across your skin and his tongue doing that, you can't bring yourself to care.

The tent feels like its own little universe, just you and Jeon and whatever the hell is going on between you right now (sex, probably). You grind down against his cock, the rough fabric of his cargo pants hitting you just right.

And he likes that, you can tell—because soon enough his hands grip your waist, guiding your movements with a precision that makes you want to eat him alive. Each roll of your hips presses you against his straining bulge, drawing embarrassingly needy sounds from your throat.

When you break the kiss to breathe, you can't help but stare. His lips are slick and swollen, that silver ring glinting in the dim light. His usually perfect hair is a mess from your fingers.

But he seems to like his battles well fought. So he bucks up against you. And fuck, you're growing impatient now.

"Where the fuck are the condoms?" you pant, desperation making your voice crack.

He actually has the audacity to chuckle, low and mocking.

"Didn't pack any," he shrugs, like he's commenting on the weather instead of ruining your life.

"What the fuck?" You stop moving, staring at him in disbelief. "Do you seriously expect me to ride you bareback?"

"No wanna?" His voice is so soft, almost childlike, like he's talking to a particularly bratty kid.

That is not hot. Why does he make it seem hot?

"What the fuck, Jeon!"

"What?" His lips twitch, and he has the nerve to look amused. "Wasn't planning on fucking either."

You roll your eyes, ignoring how his hands are still tracing maddening patterns on your skin.

"So you're just walking around with a loaded gun and no safety on?"

Another infuriating shrug. His thumbs slip under your waistband, teasing.

"Didn't plan on shooting."

His nonchalance is driving you insane—both with frustration and arousal. Especially when he's touching you like that.

"Literally, fuck you."

"I thought we agreed that would be a bit reckless right now?"

"Oh my god, Jeon." There's no hiding the frustration coloring your words. "We're surrounded by tents, which is bad enough, and now you're telling me we can't even fuck properly?"

His breath fans hot against your neck. "We can get creative."

The promise in those words makes your cunt throb, but you're not letting him win that easily.

"And leave us both desperate? Dream on, pretty boy."

He drags his lips over your collarbone and fuck—your hands clench in his hair just to stay upright, because can he stay in place when you're trying to tell him off?

"Hmm?" The smugness in his voice should be illegal. "But you were so needy a few seconds ago."

When he rolls his hips up, his cock grinding against you through his pants, you have to bite your lip to keep quiet.

Fucking, insufferable h̶o̶t̶ bastard.

"Pretty sure there's other ways to get each other off," he adds, and oh—the way he says it.

You try to respond but his mouth is already trailing up your neck, each kiss hotter than the last. His breath ghosts over your ear and you shiver, fighting the urge to tilt your head but doing so regardless. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex under your touch.

His hand keeps you pinned against his cock, the hard length of him pressing just right through his pants. His other hand teases at your waistband and you almost whimper.

Almost.

You lift your hips—an invitation that makes his eyes glint wickedly. He tugs your leggings down roughly, bunching them at your thighs. The cool air hits your heated skin and fuck—you've never felt more exposed, straddling him like this, movement restricted.

His palm slides up your inner thigh, leaving fire in its wake. When his thumb brushes over your clit through your panties, the shock of pleasure makes you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moan.

His muscles tense under your teeth and he makes a sound—half growl, half grunt.

"You like that, sunshine?" His voice is low and taunting.

And damn it. That fucking nickname again. You don't know why you fucking like it. Oxygen must not be reaching your brain.

Though it's not like you can trust yourself to speak—not with his thumb doing that, drawing slow circles that make your thighs shake.

You press a hum into his shoulder instead, teeth grazing skin in silent demand for more.

The heat between you is becoming suffocating, giving you a headache. Or maybe that's just him, the way he touches you like he's got all night to take you apart piece by piece. Like making you fall apart is his new favorite hobby.

"Jeon," you gasp against his shoulder, already embarrassingly breathless. "Take your fucking pants off."

For a terrifying second, you think he might deny you just to be a dick.

But then a deep snort rumbles through his chest and fuck—his next words may be your undoing.

"Bossy, aren't we?"

His tone is too smug for your own good.

For his own good.

For the good of humanity.

He manages to unzip his pants one-handed, whilst his other hand grips your waist, lifting you effortlessly—and honestly, the casual display of strength shouldn't be sexy but of course when it comes to him, it just is.

He shimmies his pants down to his thighs, leaving just his tight black briefs between you.

"Better?" He sounds all cocky about it, but you're too busy staring at the obvious bulge straining against the dark fabric to care, really.

You immediately sink back down onto his lap and oh—the thin layers of cloth do nothing to hide how hard he is.

The heat of his cock pressed against you makes you bite back a sound.

"Yeah."

The word may have come out too damn breathy, but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when your hands are already wandering, desperate to touch more of him.

"Mhm," is all he says low and approving.

Your thighs clench instinctively, core throbbing at just his fucking voice.

Fuck him. Y̶o̶u̶ ̶w̶i̶s̶h̶.̶

Every roll of your hips makes sparks dance behind your eyelids. His cock is right there, hard and thick against you, and even through the layers of fabric you can feel how perfectly it lines up with your clit. His fingers dig into your hips, guiding your movements with absolute control.

"That's right, sunshine." And yeah, fuck, that's a growl. "Make yourself feel good."

Truth is—you couldn't stop if you wanted to. The danger of getting caught, the way his breath hitches when you grind down just right, the way he's gripping you like you're his lifeline—it's all too much and not enough.

And then, his fingers trace the edge of your panties.

It has you shivering, that light touch.

Because he's still being careful, so deliberate, like he's savoring every second. Like he wants you to savor it too.

You keep rolling your hips, chasing that delicious friction. When he starts bucking up to meet your movements, the added pressure makes you see fucking galaxies. His dark eyes are locked on yours, pupils blown wide with want.

"Can I take these off?"

And fuck, fuck, fuck, he still sounds smug, but there's a hint of neediness treading his tone that's turning you on further. His fingers hook under the elastic, waiting.

"Yes," you breathe, already thinking about getting his briefs off too, wanting to feel all of him.

But before you can even voice your concerns, he's already responding.

"I know." He replies, reading you like a fucking open book.

He smirks, thumbs hooking under his waistband, and peels his briefs down torturously slow, like he enjoys your impatience, making you wait. When his cock springs free, thick and hard against his stomach, your mouth goes dry.

You can't help but stare—the way it curves slightly to the left, the way it twitches under your hungry gaze.

The urge to touch, to taste—it's bordering on agonizing.

"My turn." He murmurs, like he's been patiently waiting for desert.

He helps you shimmy your panties down to join your leggings, his hands steady on your hips as you lift up. The fabric rustles obscenely loud in the quiet tent, like even your clothes are trying to give you away.

And then you're both naked where it counts, no barriers left between you except the rules you're already breaking—although not really because sex without attachment doesn't break any rules.

The distant sounds of the camp feel miles away, like you two have totally forgotten you're in Jeon's tent, in the middle of a camping trip.

Well. You're pretty sure people have fucked in worse situations. So whatever.

His hands grip your hips once again, guiding you down onto him. And when you do, the slide of his bare cock against your slick folds nearly makes you whimper. You can feel every ridge, every vein pressing against your core—and each tiny movement sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

"So good," he groans, the sound rumbling through his chest.

His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise, like he's fighting to keep control, and you couldn't agree more.

Because the friction is divine, each roll of your hips making your thighs shake. You're already embarrassingly wet, leaving him slick and shining in the dim light.

He's so wet—from you, from him, it doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is the obscene sounds of skin on skin and the filthy curses falling from his lips.

His mouth returns to your collarbone and his lips are impossibly soft and the metal of his piercing incredibly cold and for some forsaken reason it turns you on even further. When he moves lower, dragging that piercing over your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, you nearly come undone.

His hand on your hip keeps you exactly where he wants you, controlling the pace as he grinds his cock against your clit. He's moving hips like he knows how to make your eyes roll back. His other hand finds your free nipple, pinching and tugging until you're trembling under his touch.

"Do you wanna cum like this?" The words vibrate against your breast, making you shiver. "Grinding against my cock?"

You can barely nod. Your brain's a puddle of want and sex, reduced to basic functions like yes and please and more.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, needing to hold onto him as he takes you apart piece by piece. Every 'sunshine' that falls from his lips pushes you closer to the edge. You're quivering, hovering right on the brink, completely at his mercy.

And judging by that smirk against your skin? He knows it.

"Yeah, just like that." His voice is pure gravel, wrecked and hot and just outright sex. "Keep rubbing that pretty pussy against my cock."

You should be embarrassed by how those words affect you, but you're too far gone to care. His filthy mouth just makes you wetter, makes you grind down harder.

"Fuck yeah." The curse hisses through his teeth, and god—the way he sounds when he's losing control is addictive.

He keeps humping, cock rubbing against your clit every time, sending electricity shooting up your spine—and he's just so hard, so thick and fucking perfect under you. You didn't even know grinding could feel this fucking good.

"Shit, s'good," he pants, and you can tell he's barely holding it together.

His nails dig into your hips harder now, like he's nearing his own edge, like he wants to tumble down the precipice of pleasure as much as you—if not more.

Like he's fighting to maintain control over his own body.

You kind of want to make him lose it.

Your fingers are completely tangled up in his hair now, and you can't even tell where your hand begins and his locks end. All that matters is each fucking perfectly synchronized roll of your hips, each firework burning behind your eyelids.

You're so close, so fucking close.

He must feel it in the way your thighs tremble, because suddenly his grip on your hips turns bruising. His mouth releases your nipple with an obscene pop, and then he's burying his face between your breasts, breath hot against your sweat-slick skin.

"C'mon sunshine." He sounds absolutely debauched. "Cum f'me. Do it."

And fuck—that does it.

One more perfect grind of his cock against your clit and the orgasm embraces you like a warm hug. The moan that tears from your throat would definitely give you away if Jeon's hand didn't clamp over your mouth just in time.

Your body jerks against him, every nerve ending on fire. You're vaguely aware that you're probably pulling his hair too hard but you can't help it (he deserves it for being a teasing bitch).

Though, you can't help but feel a bit proud because it must be the sight of you falling apart what pushes him over too.

Because suddenly he's crushing you against him, face pressed between your tits to muffle his groans. His cock pulses between you, and there's hot ropes of cum painting both your stomachs.

His whole body trembles as he cums, nails leaving crescents on your hips—moons that will stay buried in your skin for days to come.

But you don't mind, enjoying the way each throb of his cock sends aftershocks through your oversensitive core. You can feel his heart hammering where you're pressed together, matching your own thundering pulse.

Holy fuck.

You collapse against him, completely boneless, barely aware that the tent now reeks of sex and pine and chai, and your brain's too fuzzy to do anything but breathe it in.

The judgemental owl from before hoots.

Your head finds his shoulder while his face stays buried between your breasts. His breath is hot against your skin as it slowly steadies. One of his hands traces lazy patterns on your back, and it's... nice. Surprisingly gentle for someone who just made you see stars.

"That was intense." His voice vibrates through your chest, rough and satisfied.

"Yeah." It's all you can manage. Your tongue feels too heavy for words, your body weightless and done.

He actually chuckles, the bastard. "You really needed that, huh?"

You want to smack him for being so smug, but your arms won't cooperate. You settle for an annoyed grunt instead, which just makes him laugh harder. His chest rumbles against yours and god—you're too fucked out to deal with his ego right now.

He taps your hip gently—a signal to move.

When you peel apart, you both look down at the mess of cum painting your stomachs. The sight makes heat flood your cheeks, a vivid reminder of what you two just did.

And frankly, how good it was—even if only grinding.

Not that you'll tell him that. His head's big enough already.

Jeon sighs—all annoyed like he wasn't just cumming his brains out—and starts rummaging around for something to clean up with. You just... roll over. Press your face into his blankets and, yeah, they smell like him. Not cologne or soap, just pure Jeon. Pine and wood and man.

Your eyelids are so heavy. The blankets are so warm. Maybe if you just... rest for a minute...

You vaguely register him cleaning himself up, but you're already half-asleep when his voice cuts through your haze.

"Hey, don't you dare think I'm letting you get all my shit dirty."

You manage a grunt and scrunch your nose. Why is a man talking?

"Fucking hell." He sounds exasperated, but his touch is surprisingly gentle when he starts wiping you clean. You just lay there like dead weight because seriously—moving is not happening right now.

The evidence of your activities dealt with, you hear him toss the wipes aside and settle next to you.

The silence that follows is nice.

Comfortable.

You burrow deeper into his blankets, letting his scent wrap around you like a cocoon, and you're this close to blessed unconsciousness when an agitating, grating noise ruins it again.

"Hey." All firm and authoritative like you give a shit right now. "Remember you gotta be up before dawn. We can't have anyone getting the wrong idea."

You heave the longest, most dramatic sigh of your life.

"I know. I will," you mumble into the blankets, already turning away from his voice.

Like, you get it. No sleepovers allowed. But also? Shut up and let you enjoy your post-orgasm coma for five fucking minutes.

He nudges you again, more insistent this time. "I'm serious. No misunderstandings, alright?"

God, why does he have to be so paranoid about it? This is just sex—no strings attached, no rules broken. You're not some lovesick teenager who's going to get the wrong idea from a hookup.

"Then set up a fucking alarm or something, alright?" The words come out sharper than intended, but you're too fucked out to care. "I'll wake up and get out, just stop being so damn annoying."

The silence that follows is almost funny. You can practically feel his surprise at your tone. Then he exhales—that short, irritated huff that means you've actually managed to ruffle the great Chief Jeon's feathers.

"Fine." He sounds... sulky? The mighty assassin, sulking. You'd laugh if you weren't so desperate to sleep.

The blue light from his phone briefly illuminates the tent as he sets the alarm. When he settles back down, you can feel him giving you one last look—probably questioning his life choices.

Whatever. You burrow deeper into his blankets, which smell unfairly good. The tent falls quiet except for your breathing and the distant sounds of the camp.

You're pretty sure he'll actually wake you up. That's just how Jeon is—stupidly reliable even when he's being an ass about it.

So you count on it.

And the last coherent thought you have before sleep claims you is that his blankets are way too comfortable for someone so annoying.

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numberonetacostan · 4 months ago

Text

ONE HEADCANON FOR EVERY II CHARACTER!

Hello everyone!!!!!^^ For a little holiday season special, I’ve typed out a little headcanon for every character!!! By character I mean contestants + host + assistants!!!!! Sorry to all the Nick Le fans out there, he is not included. Since everyone is here, there are characters I may not know as well as my main roster, so if I get anything like, objectively wrong, feel free to let me know!!!^^ Please enjoy!!! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Apple- Her favorite song is Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan. She doesn’t really understand the lyrics but she really likes ponies!!!! I also think she’d start misspelling her name as “Appell” pretty often after she finds the song.

Balloon- The first thing Suitcase does with her prize money is buy him a poetry book. He is so very moved by this and writes her dozens of poems with various styles he sees in the book within a few days. He’d read from the book and his own works to Suitcase every night before they go to bed. Some others could join in for a nice bedtime story :).

Baseball- Once, while the hotel was under construction, Baseball fell down the stairs. And then kept rolling. And rolling. And bouncing. And rolling some more. Overall it set construction back two weeks and Paintbrush broke their leg trying to help stop him. Baseball was banned from the hotel until the elevators were finished.

Bomb- He can’t eat spicy food. As in he’s banned from eating spicy food. If he gets too hot, he can accidentally set himself off, so despite his claim that he has a great spice tolerance, he is not allowed anywhere near the hot sauce. He doesn’t complain about the ban anymore post-canon, too risky, yeah?

Bow- She watches so very many makeup tutorials, but being a ghost, can’t practice any of it on herself. That is, unless she possesses someone, like Marsh who would be very easy to put makeup on relative to other objects!!! She’d probably get pretty good at it, after some time, and Marsh would have some lovely new eyeshadow looks every day!

Knife- He has a longer ghost tail than Dough and Bow do, so I propose him wrapping said tail around people and things he likes!!! Wraps around Pickle when they’re standing next to each other, wraps around Suitcase’s handle when they’re together, etc.!!! He’d get rather flustered if anyone called him out on it.

Lightbulb- Gives incredible hugs. Incredible. How does an object made of glass and metal give such cuddly, warm hugs? Nobody knows. Sometimes she’ll turn herself on during the hug to make it extra warm!! As long as the person she’s hugging closes their eyes, it really elevates the already sacred experience of a Lightbulb hug. Luckily for everyone else, she is always happy to give one!^^

Marshmallow- She’s still pyrophobic after having been burnt all those years ago. As a very flammable marshmallow, fire would be scary to her anyways, but after having been roasted it’s a whole other story. She’d rather freeze than get close to a fire, but that’s not a problem since there’s a certain fruit always willing to warm her up with a hug <3!!

Nickel- He became very, very, very nervous to give his apology to Suitcase after she blew up Cobs and ate his corpse. He was planning to apologize either way, but clearly Suitcase could absolutely obliterate him if she wanted to do so, which means this apology has to be quite good or else. He has a serious amount of respect for her now. An upgrade, I’d say.

OJ- His favorite Pokémon is Charizard. It’s orange, it’s very popular, OJ loves it. I know Justin has made a list of the contestant’s favorite Pokemon, but I have not read it in a while so Charizard it is!!!

Paintbrush- Experiments a lot with their image after season 3, mostly by dyeing their bristles with paint!!! Lightbulb helps :3!!! And by helps I mean makes it silly and very fun. Maybe she puts a little dot between Painty’s eyes to give them a “nose”. I think they’d try a solid color first, then maybe a fade, and eventually dye the nonbinary flag into their hair!!! They slay it of course.

Paper- Pickle once wrote “Property of OJ” on Paper’s back and he didn’t notice for three days. No one told him it was there. When he asked everyone why in the world they would not inform him they said it was because they all thought OJ had written it and he was keeping it because he liked it. OJ did not know why Paper avoided eye contact with him for a week that one time but he did not like it.

Pepper- Hotel OJ head chef. Yeah you heard me. Let me cook by letting her cook!! Salt wouldn’t like cooking, too much work, so this is something Pepper could enjoy on her own!! And it would be the sole reason that OJ has not yet kicked Salt out of the hotel- if he does than Pepper might be too sad to cook, and with the depressingly low amount of hotel residents that can make food, and the even smaller amount who are willing to make enough food for everyone, they need her. And, if Payjay help out, they can spend more time with her and get to know and enjoy her presence without Salt ruining it!

Pickle- With some help from Tea Kettle and Pepper, he makes Knife a new Dora doll post-finale, since it vanished with the rest of the stuff made by MeLife. He lets Knife possess him if he wants to hug the doll, but it also gets possessed by Knife so he can hug Pickle. Ah shit sorry my Knickle got all over the headcanon dang it.

Salt- I headcanon her as the only cisgender, straight, alloromantic (I think that’s the right term?) member of the cast. Basically the only one who isn’t queer at all. But uh an actual headcanon for the ~60 or so Salt fans out there, both she and Pepper sleep with those little hair bonnets on to keep their salt and pepper from falling out of their heads in their sleep.

Taco- This one is fitting for the winter season!! Taco is afraid of snow. Like, straight up terrified. I think she would grab a bunch of blankets and hide in the vents of the mansion whenever it snows, so she can be inside of the inside, as far and safe from the snow as she can be!! Having been homeless for years, she’s had some miserable experiences with hypothermia after it snows, and now that she has a home to live in, she’ll be staying inside until all the snow has melted.

Mephone- I think he should have a pet bug post-canon. A little beetle or something that just chills on his head and feasts on the many crumbs he gets on himself while he eats. An intelligent one, like Baxter!!! Since we know Mephone will be stepping up into the more ‘big brother’ sort of role for 3GS, I think the bug would be a good outlet for Mephone to talk about his more intense feelings, specifically revolving around Mepad and the contestants. I also think, following his very creative naming of the contestants, the bug would be named Buggy.

Box- I think she would be an insomniac. After years and years of living in an empty, timeless void-space thing, she’d have a lot of trouble getting to sleep!! She’d definitely need the whole works, warm milk, cheese, lullabies, etc., etc., just to get to sleep, and even then she probably wouldn’t sleep for very long. A lot of nightmares on this one, yeah?

Cheesy- I think he’d actually quite enjoy eating cheese, as long as it’s not a chunk like he is. He’ll eat nachos, pizza, mozzarella sticks, grilled cheese, etc., etc., but he will not eat cheese cubes. He’d make approximately 5 cannibal jokes every time he does this, and this average goes up to 8 if Pickle is around.

Cherries- They give Toilet their old Mepad mask post-canon, to try and make him feel better. Toilet might hang out with them a bit more after this- they can do some drawing together!! The more prank-buddies, the merrier, yeah?

Dough- He eventually did get the recording of Bow saying that he was her brother!! Was it a cut-off version of her denying it yet again (though this time more playfully than anything)? Yes. Does that make him any less happy about having it? No.

Fan- Out of everyone, he’s the most upset about II ending, and wants to find a new special interest!! He’d try a whole bunch of things, games, music, movies, TV shows, art, and I think it would be funny if he settled on the ii-universe equivalent of Survivor, since it was such a big inspiration for II!! He’d also occupy himself with being very interested in whatever Test Tube is doing and cheering her on!!! Also being a good Dad to Bot!!^^

Microphone- Has, on occasion, accidentally had her volume button pressed in her sleep and woke not only herself but everyone in the vicinity up with her snoring. The first time it happens post-canon it takes her a half-hour to get a very startled and scared but very sleepy and confused Taco to come out from her hiding spot under the bed.

Soap- Her soap is french vanilla and rose scented!!! She’d find her own scent rather pleasant, yeah? I think being empty for her would have a similar effect on her as it does on objects like OJ and Test Tube, though if she’s in a real pinch she will use her own soap to get clean!! Letting someone use her soap would be a sweet gesture of love/appreciation from her!!!

Suitcase- Balloon would write her a lot of poems once they’re back together post-canon, and she’d keep them all inside of her!! She’d keep a lot of special little gifts from important people inside of her. The stone that Knife set beside her the first time they spoke on the docks, a dried flower bracelet from Box, whatever suits her fancy! (Get it? Ge- ‘cause she’s a suitcase? okay ill leave).

Test Tube- I think she would make phones for everyone post-canon!!!^^ It’s a big island, yeah? And they really need to be able to contact each other in case of emergency, with them being able to truly die now. She could make a functioning rocket out of a vending machine, I fully believe she could make however-many functioning phones out of what she can find on the island. (Or even better, Mepple HQ. I think they all should loot it.)

Tissues- He likes coding :) I personally hate coding, because I sucked at it in school and never want to look at one of those evil “easy kids coding” websites ever again. HOWEVER coding is something he could still do while he’s feeling sick, most of the time!! And we have quite a few gamers living in the hotel, so it would be a great way for him to connect with others!!!

Trophy- He always enjoyed photography as a hobby, but very much threw himself into it after being freed from the elimination closet. After months of seeing nothing but the snotty closet walls, he had a lot more appreciation for scenic and natural photographs. He’d hang a lot of them on the wall of his room to look at as he sleeps, since the rooms don’t have windows.

Yin-Yang- This one is from my partner @galacticrain!! Because I consider them my resident yin-yang expert^^ Yang isn’t actually gluten free, like he says in season 2 episode 5, he just knew that Yin would confess to the eating of Dough if he put any ounce of pressure on him to tell the truth.

Mepad- Another cold weather hc! As a Mepple device, he doesn’t really get cold! However, during their first winter together, Toilet worries that Mepad has no winter clothing!!! He buys Mepad one of those super fluffy, pink cases. Mepad does not take it off for months, until his systems start to overheat because of it.

Toilet- I think he would be rather curious about what having limbs is like. He wouldn’t be particularly upset about his own lack of limbs, just curious!^^ He would ask Mepad about his legs, (try to) ask Mephone about his arms, and maybe make a little doodle of himself with a lot of limbs. A biblically accurate Toilet, if you will.

Blueberry- I like to think his white eyes glow a bit. He functions best in pitch-black darkness, yeah? So imagine you’re walking in the dark and two white eyes are staring at you from the depths. He would love scaring people with it, I think.

Bot- Hanging out with everyone post-season 3 finale and even more so post-canon, they discover that they really do love videogames, similar to what they told Cabby!! They would absolutely dominate in fighting games, and would main R.O.B. in Super Smash Bros.!!! A fellow robot with a 3 letter name? Sign them UP.

Cabby- She is endlessly fascinated by how Taco’s arms work. They just…go back in? How? Could she pull them out backwards? Both on the same side? Could she reverse them? Taco does not know either, and the two of them spend a full day together just trying to figure out how they work. Cabby gets a lot of new info about them, and Taco in general, after that :). I’m projecting but I think Cabby would be curious too.^^

Candle- Her meditation training post-canon is what keeps like half the cast from losing their minds after everything that happens. She is very very much needed after… all that. Meditation would help her too, of course, in the way that it usually does, but being so helpful would probably make her feel better than that.

Clover- She was once blown across the entire island because someone dropped a penny on the ground. It was a particularly shiny penny, though, and the year was one her many, many lucky numbers!!

Goo- My little fella!!! Uh obviously he and Bot would make comics together. They like to draw, he likes to write, it’s perfect!!!! They could help him condense his writing down into a comic format as well!!! They could also make fanart and fanfics together!!! Goo would be a shipper I think he already ships Silver and Painty if you sit that little guy down in front of Steven Universe he will explode.

Lifering- With everyone losing their immortality post-canon, he quickly becomes one of the most popular among the contestants. Twisted your ankle? Go see Lifering. Migraine? Go see Lifering. Ate the mushrooms that Taco very clearly told you were poisonous? Hurry to Lifering!! He’s happy to be of so much help, but gives some long and rather informative lectures on proper safety checks.

Silver Spoon- Fills his room with candles. Particularly purple ones. And ones scented with lavender and chamomile. He’ll go on and on about how much he loves candles. Particularly purple ones scented with lavender and chamomile. No one can tell if Candle is trying to politely turn him down or really hasn’t noticed. He progressively gets more and more obvious with his candle collection and nearly sets a building on fire.

Tea Kettle- #1 Nickloon shipper. I’m serious. Whether they get together or not, she ships it. I don’t think she’d be pushy about it, insistent that they get together if they’re interested in other people, but… we know silly Nickel, always chasing a Balloon. And if he needs a little help catching it, TK will be there in a flash!!!! She’d make them a little romantic picnic complete with hors d’oeuvres!

The Floor- My guy The Floor still visits Mephone almost daily post-canon. I really don’t see the guy being super upset or holding a grudge over Mephone having made him. He’s pretty cool, if he does say so himself!!^^ And they’re buddies, anyways, so Floory would want to check in on him after his abusive father killed everyone and then was exploded!!!! He might even befriend 3GS while he’s at it :).

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devotion-disorder · 3 months ago

Note

YOU!!! 🫵🫵 i was wondering why that bailey fic was poppin off outta nowhere!!! 🫵 jsyk im so normal but i would kill a man for you also your art is so top tier you're literally one of my favourite artists on this app ❤️ (and you've roped me back into playing DOL more times than i can count LMAO)

anyways!!!! im sending you kisses!!!! mwah mwah mwah mwah-mwah!

- ♡ ellie (love-toxin)

QWAIT WTFFFFFF WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY FAV WRITER EVER ON THIS APP KNWOWS WHO I AM???????????????????????????? IM AWJDALWIDAHWIDUH';;ADWIOHD ms. ellie i've been silently lurking and reading all your stuff for YEARS..............all of your writing has such a natural flow to it i can literally just sit down and read your stuff for hours.............all of your oc's are so well thought-out, I always keep you in mind when thinking about how i should present my own silly guys..........also you are so so so good at writing smut i don't know even know how to describe it but its just amazing...........................😭😭😭💗💗💗💗

I'm beyond happy you like my silly drawins and that i've roped you into playing dol sometimes LOL ANWYAYS kissing u right back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah |*´ ³`)ﾉ ⌒💋

#ask #insane day in devotown #billions must read ms. ellie's stuff NYAOWWWWWW🔫🔫🔫🔫

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eyeheartboobiez · 1 year ago

Text

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐜𝐬

-> warnings: smut mention

-> a/n: are you able to pick up other people’s tabs at a bar? what even is a tab? idk. here are some unnecessarily long bruce hcs that i wrote at 1am

(edit): fun fact, this was the first set of sugar daddy!bruce hcs i wrote but ended up “scrapping” bcs i didn’t like the direction it was going in👨🏿‍🦯

• honestly, you don't know how either of you ended up in this situation

The drink in your hands was starting to sweat.

One of your professors had given you the chance to attend a charity event of one of his more high society friends. Of course, while you were beyond grateful, you can easily say you'd much rather be at home binging your favorite series.

So here you were, sipping on your fourth glass of the evening without a single clue how you were gonna pay for them all. Your social battery was beyond drained as you were sitting by yourself at the bar, just about ready to call it a night.

All the other socialites in the room, however, seemed to be having a blast talking about politics or stocks or whatever it was that rich people talk about. Well, all except for one.

• on one hand hand there was you, a broke college student just looking for someone to pay for her drinks

• on the other, there was the rich billionaire who was searching for someone worthy enough of his time

• bruce had noticed you sitting alone at the bar, lightly sipping on an amethyst martini:

He takes the night off from his batman duties, and this is how he decides to spend it?

Bruce couldn't wrap his head around it either. Alfred was actually the one who talked him into going to this party. With him being one of the top donors, he was basically obligated to attend at this point.

While all the other party goers were standing around talking amongst each other, the billionaire found himself off in the corner, eyes sweeping the room to find all its nearest exits. In the midst off his mental scan though, he saw you.

The dress you wore was simple, yet it somehow made you glow against the warm lighting. Despite all the commotion in the room, your presence alone practically drew him in like a moth to a flame.

If Bruce was gonna be here all night, he might as well make things interesting, right?

• you hadn't noticed him approaching until the chair next to you was being pulled out

• you were hesitant to open up to him at first

• because why in the hell was one of the richest men in gotham talking to you of all people

• but after a while, the two of you practically sprung into conversation, talking about almost anything and everything.

• after talking for what felt like hours he asks you:

"Would you perhaps like to continue this conversation back at my place?"

• with the way his index finger was gently caressing your hand, you just knew that if you left with this man, you both would be doing anything but talking

• while you usually weren't one to sleep with strangers, one night of some fun couldn’t hurt, right?

• plus you still needed to get these drinks paid for

"Only if you offer to pick up my tab."

• one thing led to another and you found yourself lying in one of the biggest beds of your life, getting fucked by one of the richest men in the world

• you and bruce ended up spending a very long night together. by the end of it, you both were practically comatose from it all

• the next morning, you woke up fully prepared to sign some sort of NDA and head on home

• or at least you were. until you felt the hot trail of kisses leading down from your neck

"Last night was incredible," The billionaire grumbled, the low murmur of his morning voice making butterflies appear in your stomach. Open-mouthed kisses continued to trail down the valley of your breasts, "I don't suppose you wanna do that again sometime, hm?"

• you almost had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren't still dreaming

• it was over breakfast that you both went over some of the necessary details neither of you seemed to bring up the night before

• you told him things about yourself like your age and how you typically didn't go home with strangers. you also ended up confessing how you were only at the same event as him because one of your professors gave you an invitation

• which then led to him asking what your major was

• …which led him to ask what university you attended

• ….which then led to him offering to pay off your college expenses

• like hold on. pause for a second.

• did he fr just offer to pay your whole tuition?

• was the pussy that good???

• before you could think too much about it, bruce made sure to let you know that this would be a small dip into a very big bucket for him

• all he asked for in return was to spend another night with you

• of course he didn't expect you to come to a decision right away, so after exchanging numbers, he drove you home to think it over

• to be honest though, it didn't take you very long to consider things

• i mean you were practically swimming in student loans over here

• immediately after you called to give him a confirmation, your phone pinged with a notification

bruce w. sent over $860.

‘buy something nice for yourself and meet me tomorrow at seven. don’t worry about transportation, i’ll arrange a car for you.’

• and after that the rest was history

• being bruce’s sugar baby was honestly one of the best decisions you’ve ever made

• after your second night with him was when he wanted to make things official between you two

• “official” pretty much meant that he would volunteer to be your personal bank as long as you continued to keep him company

• even though it all sounded great, you weren’t stupid.

• if you were to really go through with this you would need it written on paper. you wanted this shit documented

• so that’s exactly what he did

• by the end of the day, bruce had his lawyers make a drafted copy of the terms and conditions your so called “relationship” would entail (a draft that you were free to make changes to, of course)

• now that everything had been officially set in stone, most days you found yourself either attending charity events or maxing out his company credit card

• now if only bruce could tell you about a certain night job of his…

-> a/n: when i tell you these have been in my drafts for a MINUTE😭 i think imma make a fic about how their relationship develops but first i wanna write the next part to my jason smau series

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nyarumie · 9 months ago

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hii dropping by to say i love your works sm !! since you mentioned abt narumi requests, id like to make one :3

how aboutt narumi randomly feeling hungry during his game night and when he goes to find food he sees reader! so they end up making/getting food tgt all domestic and fluffy (if you’re cooking bro is definitely not thinking abt wifing u up uhhhh), feel free to create any setting you’d like for the scenario hihi

(also this might or might not be an excuse for me to ask u to become moots aha)

Food Impact! (Oneshot)

narumi gen x reader — pure fluff, more fluff, and even more fluff! sweet and gentle narumi, established relationship, the kitchen staff are eavesdropping on them, spoiler alert: they made a mess in the kitchen.

Author's Note: Readers, please search up the food name references I included here to get the entire picture of what they're trying to make <3

Author's Reply: hi, rye! I think we're already mutuals (at least, it's what my notif bar says? i know im already following u tho! i love your works too <3 it inspired me to write and post too, to be honest) thank you for this request i totally had fun writing it and helped me with my writer's block (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ id love to interact more too!

Cross-posted on ao3. Ask box is open, and masterlist can be found on my pinned. Have fun reading, everyone!

The sight that greeted Hasegawa has an unusual factor.

Stacked yamazon boxes, check.

Littered cans and bottles, check.

Neglected blankets and pillows, check.

An unbothered Captain on his futon playing his BS5, gone.

Or maybe he's just being dramatic. Narumi is actually there, albeit not stuck in front of his huge ass TV for once. Rather, he's shockingly seated behind his office table, adorning a serious expression while giving his laptop an intense focus.

His Vice Captain is rendered speechless. Was he seeing things? The First Division’s Captain… is actually doing work?

“Hasegawa. What is it? I’m busy here.” he said, hands busy on his laptop.

Oh, he's been staring at him for the past 5 minutes, mouth agape. Regaining his composure, he stated his business. “Your presence is requested for an interview. I believe I sent you the notice first thing in the morning.” But is it right to be disturbing him when he’s finally working—a rarer than once in a blue moon occasion?

“Requested, not required. Don't care, won't care.”

“...Then I’ll ask her to do it in your stead.”

“Don't. She's helping me with my work.”

Sighing, Hasegawa turned around to leave, surprisingly not picking Narumi up like a helpless cat to make him attend the interview.

Once Narumi heard the door click, the corner of his lips turned up, unable to stop the smug, triumphant grin from forming. “Hah, too easy! I’m busy working alright, my ass is practically burning from sitting here all day!”

In truth, the laptop Narumi specifically requested when he was promoted as Captain is a gaming laptop. He had somehow convinced the higher ups that its specifications are far greater than anything most officers can handle and is fitting for his position as Captain. Not that they know what it really is, of course.

He has been playing Jenshin Ympact the moment his office shift started. You had practically begged him yesterday to grind for you, saying that you’ll handle his paperworks worth a week’s job as long as he gets your desired character and weapon. “Why won’t she just top-up on this game? We have all the money to get every single character. What a bummer.”

Not that he understands why you’re willing to shoulder his paperworks over playing a game. Nothing’s enjoyable about paperworks at all! But you complained that your back was hurting from grinding, and who was he to reject such a good offer? That means a grumpy Hasegawa would appear less on his doorstep.

Complaints can be heard from him as he speedruns a side quest, mumbling about how the NPCs are too helpless. “What the… why do most NPCs ask for food here? What kind of adventurer doesn’t bring any food with them?”

Karma seemed to have hit him, his stomach growling too loud for his liking.

Ignoring it, he continued, still insulting every single unimportant character here and there. “Boo. Shut up. Don't like you. Go away. I hope you get eaten by a slime—”

And an even angrier sound came from his stomach.

“Fine! I’ll grab something to eat.”

What he meant by grab something to eat, is grab you to get the both of you something to eat. He refuses to eat anything without you, finding it more enjoyable doing mundane things with you around. His stomach has been empty since morning, wanting to get an early start on his grind.

He sulkily made his way towards your own room, knowing that you've been just as cooped up as him in your respective offices.

Not bothering to knock, he calmly opened the door, instantly finding you still working on his paperworks, desk situated across your door.

His familiar presence caught your attention, eyes lighting up in joy at the sight of him. “Gen! What brings you here? Do you need anything?”

Without a word, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, making you drop your pen in the process.

Confused, you tried calling him again. “Gen?”

“Mhm… heard you. Just come with me.”

“Alright.” You smiled, his uncharacteristically calm demeanor endearing you. He was often like this with you, as if your very existence is his source of peace.

A comfortable silence lingered as you let him lead you to his your destination. Halfway there, you finally recognized the route to the cafeteria.

‘Oh, he's just hungry.’ you thought. ‘But wouldn't he prefer instant meals or deliveries instead of going all the way here?’

But instead of going straight to the self-service counter, he turned and made his way to the kitchen instead. Wait, are you even allowed there? Sure, he's the Captain, but he's not a cook!

He finally let go of your wrist, unceremoniously opening the large door, earning shocked stares from the kitchen staff and making them pause their job.

You pulled at his sleeve. “Gen—”

“Is there an available cooking station here?” he asked.

The staff looked at each other, obviously baffled. “Uhm, Captain Narumi, sir; there is. But it's at the far end of the Kitchen…” a cook said, pointing towards the station.

“Good. We’ll be using it undisturbed.”

Gen continued making his way forward, with you holding the cuff of his sleeve to ease your nerves. You offered an apologetic look at every person you made eye contact with as you both made your way through. He still hasn't said anything as to why you're here of all places, confusing you further.

He came to an abrupt stop once you reached ‘your’ station. It's time to get to the bottom of this.

“Gen, did you say we'll be using this cooking station? Are we actually cooking?”

He faced you, his arms crossing. Suddenly, he looked a bit bashful. “Yeah. That's what I said.”

Raising your brow, you tried prying more information from him. “And what exactly are we gonna cook?”

“Ahem. So I saw this food while playing Jenshin Ympact…” He pulled out his phone, showing you a screenshot of the food.

Invigorating Kitty Meal.

Giggles threatened to spill from your lips. No wonder he wants to make it yourselves.

He swiped the photo to another screenshot. “And there's this other one. You love mushrooms, I thought you'd want something simple to eat.” Milky Mushroom Crisp Tower. How cute, he was also thinking of you!

“They look pretty fun and easy to make. However… Both of us don't know how to cook, Gen.” you frowned.

“But you just said it looks easy to make. There's two of us, that should be good enough, yeah?” he pouted.

Fondly, you sighed. He’s being too adorable right now, you just can't say no to him. “Alright, we’ll try. If it turns out good, you’ll marry me, won't you?” you joked.

He brightened up at this, pushing his hair back, determined to make his kitty meal. “Consider it done.”

After thoroughly examining the screenshots, you personally approached a few people stationed in the kitchen, asking them which ingredients would best suit your planned meal. With a couple of pieces of advice here and there, you and Gen started to put the plan in motion.

He passes you a rather large bowl full of rice, busying yourself with shaping it to form a cat, filling its inside with mayo tuna. He tasked himself with (trying) to cook the steak while watching the eggs boil, which you doubted at first, earning you a complain from him (‘Hey! You're on the same boat as I am; can't cook, can't question!’)

Cooking the steak is quite the task, so you decided to handle your mushroom toast yourself.

You poorly sliced up the mushroom and tossed it in a small pot filled with a cup of thick cream and easily melted cheese. Not hard at all!

You leave it be and checked on Gen, who you find struggling with not burning the steak. “Need help?”

“I’m fine! It's just that this is totally not beginner friendly, that's all!”

“...Gen, the eggs are overcooked.” A series of curses left his mouth as he hurriedly took them off the boiling water, and his nose scrunched up on the smell of something burning.

“Your mushroom! The heat is turned all the way up!” Now it was your turn to panic.

After a couple of errors from both your ends, it was safe to say that you've finally reached the final task of your newly found skill.

You were carefully carving some seaweed, cheese, and ham as the final touches to his rice kitty’s facial features. Gen was standing behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he watched your art, humming to himself. He seemed pleased despite the mess you both made.

“Let's cook again someday.” he said.

You snort, “Speaking too soon? You won't say that if this turns out bad.”

“Nahh. Not if I’ll marry you.”

You laugh, taking it as a joke. You feel him perch his head on your shoulder, face turning into a frown. “I wasn't joking! Here, have this.”

He took your hand, putting a seaweed ring on your finger. You giggled again, your heart can't take him sometimes. “I didn't mean to laugh at you. You're being too adorable today! Let's eat these right here before they spoil.”

He looked too sad to see the kitty get devoured, sulking despite how good it surprisingly tasted. And yours wasn't too bad either, glad that you were able to salvage whatever was left from the burnt mushroom sauce.

“ ‘M definitely gonna marry you someday.” he suddenly said.

Your head whipped towards him so fast, only to find him munching on his meal, face serious. “Food so good it got you saying that again?”

He shook his head. “Don't you want me as your husband?” he whined.

You felt your face flush, suddenly aware that he meant what he said. “Go put on a real ring on me first. Then I'll take you as my husband.” you teased.

Looking thoughtful, he hummed. “I can wait just fine. It arrives tomorrow.”

Wait. What?

“What arrives… tomorrow?”

“The ring.” he said, matter-of-factly.

You faced him fully, mouth wide open. He’s dropping this information way too casually!

Sensing your stare, he also turned to look at you, food still in hand. “What? If you're worried about the size, I got it covered.”

“You're crazy. When did you purchase it?”

“Hmm… a couple of weeks ago. When I heard you scolding Hasegawa for disturbing me, saying I needed rest for carrying No. 1’s eyes on a daily basis. No one dares to scold him like that! So I decided to promote you as my wife!” he proudly said.

You tug at the front of his clothes, pulling him closer. “I want to kiss you right now.”

He set his food down, placing his hands on your waist. His eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth. “Then, as the Captain of the First Division, I grant you special permission to kiss me.”

And with that, you closed the distance between you, feeling the both of you smile in your kiss.

Bonus:

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the kitchen staff were eavesdropping the entire time. Who would’ve thought that this is how good their Captain's romantic life is?

You two were so absorbed in your own little bubble, failing to notice the suppressed squeal from a staff that was tasked to spy on you when you kissed. Seems like you forgot there were other people around you.

The staff went back to the others, meeting their expectant gazes. Wordlessly, they gestured their ring finger and acted out a kiss. It was comical, but the message was well-received nonetheless. It became an unspoken rule to keep what happened that night amongst themselves, wanting to respect your and the Captain's joyous moment.

#kaiju no. 8 #axia writes for fun #kn8 x reader #kn8 writing #gen narumi #kaiju number 8 #narumi gen x reader #narumi fluff #narumi x reader #narumi gen #narumi gen fluff

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