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tender-rosiey · 7 months

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What would happen if gojo has 2 babies? And they both start crying at the same time and poor gojo has to find a solution in this situation 🥲 his younger baby that is only months old starts crying which makes the older sibling that's 2 years older wake up and starts crying 😭

little voice — gojo satoru x f!reader

you’re on a girls’ vacation. it’s okay. it’s cool.

but it isn’t.

throughout his entire life of fighting curses, emotional trauma, technique training, and unending migraines, he has never felt so much stress like he does right now.

his two kids are truly angels: full of kindness, compassion and—as expected of a child of gojo satoru—full of mischief.

they also share the same amount of love he has for you and, of course, even more. so separate two kids who adore their mother and you get chaos.

satoru just found out that the one who keeps the balance in the house is you, and thinking back about it, it should’ve been obvious because everyone in this house listens to you.

for example, one time when you were out on a simple visit to nanami to take some of the sweet bread he has, you had strictly told satoru to put the two kids to sleep at 8:30 exactly.

he thought it’s too early, but then you explained to him that s/n sleeping gave him time and freedom to look after your baby daughter who was, admittedly, a handful that would not sleep unless she was carried.

so satoru obediently listened, or at least he tried to.

a shameful failed trial at that.

in his defense, what was he supposed to do when s/n gave him puppy eyes asked for a mere 10 minutes more, say no? of course not!

so, like the great father he is, he gave him a couple more minutes, and nothing will make satoru regret his decision since to him his son’s smile is worth the world.

…except maybe the chandelier that is now on the floor and his precious baby daughter who just took one the biggest poops he has known of and his son who is panicking about how to clean this mess before you come home.

and come home you did and to all this mess.

swiftly, you picked up your daughter and changed her diaper, even making her giggle and squeal in between.

then you hugged your son and cleaned up the shattered glass together and disposed of the chandelier. lastly, you stood in front of your husband with a big frown after you’ve put the kids to sleep.

satoru could swear that he couldn’t fall more in love with you. hell, he could even twirl you around and kiss you breathless, but he feels like that would just lead him to the couch.

so he works to butter you up first before trying anything, “hey my sweet cute honeypie—“

you simply quirk an eyebrow.

and he falls to his knees, “I am sorry! I just couldn’t resist his puppy eyes! you should’ve seen them; he looked so cute!”

“I saw them a million times before he was even born, ‘toru.”

your husband gasps, “how!?”

“our son is an exact copy of you, sweetie.”

so yeah that was one of too many times, and if it isn’t apparent that you are the mediator then satoru wants to let the world know that even his students listen to you.

like that one time at school when the first years were caught up fighting with each other, the second years were trying to pull them apart, and satoru was too busy cackling at them while holding d/n that no one noticed panda’s little tail being—god knows why—on fire, not even panda himself.

that was until your precious son tugged at your husband’s shirt and pointed at panda, saying a simple sentence (phrase), “papa, panda fire.”

satoru’s eyes zero on panda then they widen, before he gapes, “oh shit, you’re right!”

“bad word!”

“sorry!”

however, despite satoru almost bolting to put out the fire, panda was finally able to smell it and hummed, “something’s being cooked.” then he looked at his tail, “oh it’s me.”

hit the panic button.

“I am being cooked!” he screams and starts running around, “panda meat doesn’t taste good; I promise!”

the rest start running after him with the intention to help, but panda could only translate it into one thing as he screamed, “don’t eat me!!”

“no one is gonna eat you, dumbass!!” maki yelled but to no avail as no one could get to the panicked panda.

your husband is running as well, half taking photos and videos and half ensuring that d/n does not fall from his hands—considering how she keeps giggling, squealing, and wriggling her entire body.

ijichi took matters into his own hands and called the only person he knows will be able to solve this.

“hello?”

“panda is on fire, the kids are running after him, and gojo is just recording!” he wails, eyes frantically following said people then straying to a particularly small person, “also s/n is trying to eat the grass.”

“what?!”

and like lightning, you’re on the field. you lightly scold s/n and tell him to cover his ears.

you turn to the walking fire hazard and scream, “everyone stop! and panda get over here!”

“yes ma’am!”

he stands still in front of you, almost ignoring his ‘fiery’ tail. you effectively put it out and ruffle his fur until he calms down. the others take turns in greeting you and getting their daily dose of motherly hugs.

your son sprints to you and holds onto your leg, refusing to let go.

and they all make way for the star of the show: the all-mighty gojo satoru.

he beams, “wifey, yet again you save the day!”

he easily picks up s/n and pulls the four of you into one big hug. he rubs his cheek against yours, “have I told you how much I love you?”

“I was gone for 3 minutes.”

“I haven’t?!” he gasps, completely ignoring you, “I am a terrible husband!”

he sobs and starts slowly melting to the ground where he believes a ‘disrespectful, good-for-nothing husband who doesn’t tell his wife just how much he loves her’.

anyway, back to the present. the kids have been miraculously put to sleep—a process that satoru does not have the time nor the energy to describe.

when he stops ‘reminiscing ‘, he starts paling at the fact that all of these were mere examples of things going wrong without you, and you were in the freaking area.

now, you’re not 10 steps away, and satoru is feeling very threatened.

he is sprawled out on the couch, eye bags ever so prominent. he sighs and lets his head fall back, grateful for the silence that fills the house, but he hates it at the same time.

satoru was never fond of silence—the type that feels so heavy on the heart—even when he was a teenager. it gives space and time to think about all the things he is desperate to avoid.

he did eventually come to love silence but only the silence that accompanies the times he spends with you, but that’s a story for another time though.

opening his eyes, he looks around and his gaze lands on your recent family photo. his smile is almost instantaneous.

if there’s anything he will rub in suguru’s face when they meet is that he managed to score himself such a lovely wife and an adoring family, a real family. he mentally writes a plus one on the score chart between him and suguru then relaxes.

he would like to scurry to the bed where your scent still lingers, but his fatigue has simply chained him to the couch—he is overreacting you’re only gone for three days.

so, he decides, it’s time to rest and hope for a dream where he gets to hold you and live with his longing until he can feel your lips against his skin again.

the great gojo satoru closes his eyes and welcomes his slumber.

that is until, his little sweetheart decides to breakout into a wail, effectively causing her dad’s eyes to snap open.

he jumps to his feet and sprints to her room, “d/n, what’s wrong, honey?”

he softly cradles her in his—gigantic—arms and starts rocking her slowly. “it’s okay; papa’s here,” he murmurs in hopes of calming down, but his daughter doesn’t register his voice yet.

she can, however, feel his all too familiar chest against her cheek, so she grips at it tightly and continues crying.

satoru’s expression is full of distress, and his heart contracts painfully at how his daughter’s cries. then it’s almost like the entire world is against him right now because he also starts to hear small little sniffles from the door of the room.

your husband looks back to find his son dragging his teddy bear with him in one hand and in another, trying to wipe his tears as much as possible.

your husband quickly shifts d/n into one arm and leads s/n into him with the other. your son nuzzles into his dad’s chest and murmurs, “I want mama.”

almost like she understands the mention of you, she calms down a tiny bit and her hands start reaching for the air—reaching for you.

satoru slides down to the ground and pulls them both into his chest, and he starts rubbing s/n’s shoulder and kisses the top of his head and sighs, “me too, s/n, but, hey, we are strong and capable, so we have to hold on until she comes home, right?”

a little sniffle escapes s/n as he nods before saying a soft, “yeah.”

satoru smiles and ruffles his hair, “that’s my champ.”

s/n lets out a little smile and snuggles into his dad’s embrace.

so satoru shifts his attention to the sniffling baby in his arm, he frowns, “now what are we going to do with you, little missy?”

your son purses his lips for a moment, before placing the teddy bear in his hands into his little sister’s tiny arms. curiosity takes over for a moment, and she starts exploring the new item.

then s/n presses on the teddy bear’s chest and it plays a little voice message from you:

“hey sweetie! mama loves you, so don’t worry about those nightmares! I am always here.”

your daughter’s eyes shine and she hugs the teddy as much as possible and utters a small, “ma!”

satoru blinks owlishly then looks at s/n with smile, “so you had that all along?”

s/n nods slowly and holds into his father tighter, obviously getting tired and getting ready to sleep. satoru would love to say the same about his other angel but—oh she fell asleep.

looks like all it took was a little listen to your voice.

he will probably make you record a thousand voice messages when you come back and make you get him his own special build-a-bear as well cause what the hell? what about your husband?

he shakes the thought away, realizing that he can finally fall asleep, albeit on the floor.

with no blanket.

no pillow.

not even his favorite cushion.

but he wasn’t raised to be ungrateful, so he will take what he can get. he will simply make up for lost sleep when you’re back. it will feel better that way in any case.

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deanbrainrotwritings · 2 months

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— mattel

SUMMARY : “it’s been a few years since tfw got out of the life, dean and reader are married, etc. dean’s been a little self-conscious lately—he doesn’t look like how he used to; he’s put on a few pounds. just dean with love handles (PLEASEEEEE dean with love handles lives rent free in my mind) body (dean’s) appreciation, lovey dovey stuff like that. reader taking care of him :))))) dean smut fic!!!!!” - anon

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : Alison (OFC)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluffy, little angst, shameless horniess, dirty thoughts, size kink ngl

WORD COUNT : 2.9k

A/N : title from an avenged sevenfold song. this fills the square for sex shop on my @jacklesversebingo card. there will be a second part, hehe. xx

“Wow,” you looked around with your lips parted in astonishment at the hundreds of sex toys that covered the wall from top to bottom. “I’ve been missing out.” They had cute names and cute ‘mascots’ stamped on the boxes that held the toys within. You saw bunnies and panda bears and pretty colours like pink, purple, and sky blue.

Dean chuckled behind you and you turned to watch him roll his eyes as he looked to the side. You followed his gaze and you were bombarded with lewd sex books. One of them was open on a bookstand to a page with a man and woman having sex in a position that seemed too acrobatic to actually be pleasurable. You blinked, jaw dropped in shock, and turned your eyes to Dean whose cheeks turned deep red when he met your gaze.

“I’d break something if we tried this!” You exclaimed to make things worse for Dean, and took the same book that resided next to it to quickly flip through it, not nearly as excitedly as you’d hate to admit you were. “This can’t be purely for my enjoyment. Although this one looks hot! Imagine if you did tha- hey!” Dean snatched the book from your hands when two women giggled as they walked around the two of you.

You looked up at him innocently, but mostly seductively when he pulled you into the lingerie section. He shoved the book he’d forgotten about into one of the shelves. Now you knew why he decided to take you this early in the morning. The shop was practically empty after two hours of being open. And Dean, the grumpy morning person he was, hurried you into getting dressed so you could arrive ‘early’ after checking his phone a couple of times. (You imagined he checked the hours and days the shop was less busy and it amused you further.)

“You need to take this seriously,” he murmured, his attention mostly focused on one of the sets above your head. You bit your lip to hide your smirk, but failed and grinned mischievously at him.

“I am!” You pouted, subtly looking at the lingerie set that caught his eye. He gave you a look and you defensively crossed your arms over your chest and turned away from him. “Fine! I’ll pick something, go ask one of the women what they recommend for us, you know, something we can share-”

“What?” Dean suddenly sounded more embarrassed and in disbelief at your request. You could feel him get closer and your skin prickled with foreshadowing excitement.

“Oh, come on.” You turned to punch his arm gently, but he still rubbed the spot. “It’ll be cute to them, just let me look around some more… Please?” He bit his lip thoughtfully and you did the same to hold back a moan at the sight of him in a plain black t-shirt and the same sweatpants he’d abandoned the night before when he made you choke on his dick and beg for him to-

“Okay, baby.” He leaned down to peck your lips and then kissed your forehead as your stomach lurched with elation and your breath bubbled in your chest. You smiled softly at him, your dirty memory evaporating like a puddle in the middle of summer.

You tried to act as casually as you could after stepping out of the dressing room at the back of the sex shop and looked for where Dean was. The same woman—Alison—who’d helped you get away with your secret, winked at you as she talked Dean’s ear off about the toy you figured one of the other employees suggested to Dean.

You carried a small bullet vibrator Alison suggested—for discrete purposes—and a lingerie set. Not the one Dean was staring at earlier, you were currently wearing it beneath your lavender dress. Alison was clearly devious and not judgmental about your request when you’d approached her about it.

Dean visibly relaxed when he saw you and you smiled at him as he thanked Alison. Your eyes dropped to the box and you quickly read Tenuto Mini and you lifted a brow inquiringly at Dean.

“Well, if you have any more questions, I’d be happy to help!” Alison chirped and smiled wide as she walked off. You pursed your lips and watched her long brown hair sway across her back. Suddenly, you began to second-guess your daring move.

“Sweetheart.” Dean’s hand finding yours pulled you out of your flight-freeze state.

“Hey,” you breathed and attempted to smile normally at him, “find something good?”

His eyes slowly moved across your face and you felt your cheeks become warm. Could he read your mind, suddenly? You forced yourself to think of food and your favourite places to have lunch in order to push away your sexual thoughts. Fear is never good for you.

“I dunno,” he murmured unenthusiastically. Your smile fell and concern wrinkled your forehead as you traced the beautiful features of his face to get a read on him.

“What do you mean?” You laughed softly.

“I just… don’t feel…” he trailed off.

“Yeah?” You managed to utter past the knot in your throat.

He stepped closer to you, his gentle hand tapped under your chin in what you think was an attempt to comfort you, and opened his mouth to finally get the moment over with, but he shut it faster than you’d like.

“Dean, what’s-”

“I don’t feel hot… anymore,” he blurted out under his breath.

It was like a cold bath, icy water that killed the fire of both your anxiety and your arousal. You frowned hard, feeling deeply troubled and somewhat hurt by his admission.

“Oh…” you whispered. You watched him bite his lip and longed to be the one who sank your teeth against the plushness of them. You had no idea what to say to him, to comfort him, or even to change his mind about it. You never really considered that he felt that way about himself and part of you wondered when or why he began having those feelings.

“Let’s just go.” He attempted to take the things you were holding, but you felt more confident now about what you were planning. Have you failed as his girlfriend? You were more than happy to prove him wrong by going through with your dirty plan.

“No,” you asserted, “I don’t know when you started feeling that way, but I don’t agree.”

“Let’s… not do this here,” he said quietly, his hand slid up to your elbow. A small group of people entered the store, the bell above the door announced their arrival, and you huffed petulantly. He pulled you closer and you felt agitated—by his words—and wondered how you were even going to play your game out without making him uncomfortable.

“Fine, but we are buying these.” You plucked the toy from his hands and turned away to pay for them yourself before he could argue against it.

The car-ride back home was tense and awkward.

You were horny, upset, troubled, and deep in thought.

Your eyes occasionally drifted over to where Dean sat, his hands wrapped lazily around the steering wheel, legs slightly parted—relaxed. He was deep in thought himself, you could tell by the way he bit his lip and occasionally tapped his thumb against the steering wheel.

You could feel your frown deepening the longer you stared at him and the deeper you fell into the black hole of your thoughts, the more troubled you felt.

How could he not feel hot when you currently wanted to jump his bones and he wasn’t even trying to be sexy? But that was just you. And you had no idea how to comfort him. Or what to say. Just in general, you didn’t know what to do. Would he believe a word you said? Just because you felt it, doesn’t mean he did, too. And that was clear from the way he expressed he felt unattractive, despite the way you were clearly more than pleased to even lay your eyes on him.

He was so beautiful.

For the most part, in the past, you did feel slightly insecure. So you understood how he felt now. But once you started dating, your insecurity went down significantly. And now that the two of you were married, you didn’t doubt for a second that he thought you were beautiful.

Nearly every morning, it was normal for you to express how displeased you were to see him walk out the door for work or having to walk out earlier than him to work yourself. How could it be that he somehow felt not hot when you shamelessly drooled over him in a t-shirt and sweats? You worshipped the ground he walked on and more than loved to be at his mercy.

You hoped at least what happened last night would prove something to him. If the way he had you on your knees, barely allowing you to touch yourself as you took his cock down your throat meant anything to him. Or if the way he made you beg and cry for him to let you orgasm after teasing you with his tongue, fingers, and cock proved anything. You hoped the memory of all of that proved him wrong, basically.

He was all you could think about, always.

Now, your mind was filled with ideas of what you’d do to watch him beg and whimper for you, too. To make him get grabby and rough with you from how much you teased him. To make him delirious by keeping him from his orgasm. To tease him with slow strokes of your hands, your mouth, or your pussy, whatever would make him pound you into the mattress until you came too many times to speak or think coherently.

You wanted to feel him all over your body. You wanted to feel his warm cum inside you. To see the bruises of his fingertips on your hips. To feel the sensitivity and puffiness of your nipples from his mouth. To feel raw and tender and wet between your legs from whatever he decided to use to please you. To feel the soreness in your muscles of having been fucked.

You wanted to see the fierce possessiveness in his green eyes. To kiss the red blush on his freckled cheeks. To hear the arousing sounds of his pleasure rumbling deeply through his chest. To watch the mind-numbing pleasure contort his beautiful face. To see and feel the way his body became taut and tense as it moved with yours.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“What?” It was when you turned to look at him that you felt your thighs relax slightly. They were slick with your arousal and you were only half-ashamed about it. You felt hotter than you already were and shifted your hips shamelessly, only to feel the Impala’s air-conditioning cool the wetness of your neediness against your cunt. Your eyes fell to his hand as it wrapped around your thigh, his fingers squeezed the sides and you instantly imagined him doing it to your neck. You felt a rapid jolt of pleasure on your clit and pressed your lips together as you caught yourself imagining the look on his face if he dared to sneak his fingers higher to feel the dampness of your arousal against your inner thighs. You attempted to remain composed. “I’m fine,” you smiled, then bit your lip to save yourself from smiling too much or not enough.

He looked at you for a few moments and your heart only began to beat faster with each passing second. Dean turned slightly to face you and you realised that you were home when you caught a glimpse of your neighbour’s lemon tree out of the corner of your eye.

What you’d give to ask Dean to steal some off the branches that hung over on your side of the yard. Just to watch his shirt ride up, to reveal his sun-kissed skin, with his sweats hanging low on his hips, his arms flexing to reach the juiciest and perfect lemons for you-

“You’re not mad are you?” Dean’s hand slid up your thigh to grasp your hip and you held your breath—hoping he’d pull you into his lap.

“What? Of course not!” You breathed out when he squeezed gently, awaiting your response. He sighed softly in relief and smiled, his hand moved away and you frowned at the loss of his touch. “I’m… horny,” you admitted bravely and watched his eyes widen and his face turn red.

“Really?” He chuckled breathlessly. He suddenly looked more confident and relaxed. He leaned forward, brushed your hair off your shoulder with his hand, and let his nose tease your jaw as the scent of your flowery perfume made his brain foggy.

You shivered and knew you were already too far gone to play any games with him. You felt his lips ghost against your neck, one of his hands held your elbow, and his other hand moved your hair out of the way on the other side of your face. You somehow felt wetter than before and unbuckled your seatbelt to climb into his lap.

Dean’s laugh died down to a moan when you kissed him and his hands found your waist on instinct. “I really need you to fuck me,” you breathed against his parted lips.

He had the audacity to smirk at you and brought his hands back up to your face to kiss you again instead. He was gentler, slower than you could handle at the moment. His thumb brushed against your warm cheekbone and his fingers tangled in your hair and you wished he would pull on it—hard—as he made you ride his cock.

You whined against his mouth, so he shut you up with his tongue sliding in between your lips to meet yours. Your arousal felt uncomfortable between your legs and your skin began to heat up even more the harder your heart pounded in your chest. You ached for him. Your body ached for him. You wanted to feel him where he’d been a million times before and your body tingled excitedly at the thought of his touch.

You moved his hand from your face and guided it between your bodies so he could feel just how desperate and serious you were about your request. He continued to kiss you, allowing you to guide him. Your lips tingled with endless desire and he soothed your need by sucking on your lip and nibbling possessively on your reddened flesh. He gasped against your mouth and nearly choked on his whimper when his fingertips grazed your lace panties, now completely soaked in your wetness.

You pulled away slightly to catch your breath and he pushed your underwear to the side to feel your slippery folds and entrance. It was embarrassingly easy the way he slipped two of his thick fingers into your. He moaned appreciatively when you panted hard against his flushed cheek and he squirmed, biting hard on his lip.

You began to undulate your hips when he perfectly curled his fingers against your walls and thumbed at your swollen clit, keeping your wet folds spread apart with his index and pinky finger. “Make me finish, Dean. Fuck, I need to cum so bad,” you begged shamelessly, practically fucking yourself on his fingers, in his car, in broad daylight, of all things.

On any other occasion, you’d be utterly ashamed, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to end the pleasure of finally having Dean’s touch right where you needed him. He was so good at making you feel hot and bothered, and you were so ready and wet, you could even hear the abundance of your arousal with every movement of your hips.

You released his wrist and sneaked your hand into his sweats, tried to find the waistband of his underwear, but instead you felt his hardened length ready against your fingers. You inhaled sharply, felt the way your pussy pulsed excitedly around his fingers, and brushed your own lower to feel the already-smeared precum on the tip of his cock.

“Oh… fuck,” Dean murmured, wavering before his fingers slipped out of you, “not here.”

You expressed your complaint with an irritated moan, but removed your hand from inside his pants despite feeling only minimally motivated to obey him. “You’re not wearing anything underneath… And I’m somehow supposed to contain myself?”

His laugh was breathy and quiet against your mouth. “I don’t remember this being what you wore under your dress,” he attempted to change the subject with his accusatory tone. He bit his lip, gazing at you through those beautiful lashes of his when you forced yourself away from him. He wasn’t fully capable of hiding the mischief in his green eyes and you inhaled deeply, smiling, hoping to resist the urge to ask again for him to claim you in his car.

“I think we are both equally surprised at what we’ve found beneath each other’s clothes.”

Dean’s playful grin was followed by laughter he couldn’t contain, a glorious sound that made the millions of dormant butterflies scatter in your stomach. You exhaled shakily and admired him, before making the wise choice of taking the bag containing your new merchandise before escaping the warmth of his car.

Dean called your name happily, but you ignored him when you heard the sexy rumble of his engine die. You stole the key from the pot containing yellow daffodils as the Impala’s door creaked shut with that same sound that brought hope to you whenever he came back home to you again.

-> mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix

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emmyrosee · 11 months

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lol Brandon Farris and Maria Gloria wrote this 💅🏼

——

You don’t film specific videos with Kenma often, but when you do, it’s usually at his expense.

For this installation of his quarterly stream, he’s got you set up with an eye tracker just beside him. Naturally, you’re decked out in Kodzuken merch, and he can’t stop looking at it as he explains the rules.

“So- there’s gonna be two sides. One side is gonna have one picture, the other of another one-“

“Revolutionary, Kenma.”

“-Shut the hell up. Anyways, your going to look at one of them; if you look at the one of me, or the picture on the left, it’s free. If you look at the right one, I have to give 5 subs. Got it?”

“One question.”

“Sure.”

“Why do you set yourself up for failure?”

Kenma looks you up and down, “because I already settled for you.” You jaw drops in faux offense while he sets up the pictures. “Okay- cover your eyes.” Your hands come up to childishly cover your eyes, and Kenma is quick to set up the first set of images.

One of him in a compression shirt, post workout with sweat making the fabric cling impossibly closer to his muscles.

The other, of Maesi at just a small 8 months old.”

“Alright babe. Open.”

Your eyes do, and they small orbs tracking your eyes dart to your child.

“Awww, my baby,” you coo, hands coming up to your mouth as you look at the picture of Maesi while he pouts next to you.

“Wow… thought you would look at me, not gonna lie,” he snickers, adding five gifted subs to his total. In his monitor, he sees your eye tracker finally dart to his picture, fixating on his abs. “Yeah no, that one glance of our infant cost me 25 damn bucks, let’s try again.” You laugh next to him and gently clutch his arm affectionately.

In the next slide, there’s a picture of him in a worn out nekoma hoodie, and a picture of Bokuto in his MSBY jersey-

Inconveniently, your eyes dart to Bokuto’s hair.

“Babe.”

“I’m sorry!” You cackle. “His hair is just stupidly exciting, it’s a habit.”

“You see my luscious hair every day, and you pick his?”

You suck in a breath and Kenma glares at you. “Luscious?”

“Im gonna leave you.” He tacks on another five subs, and he looks over at you in playful offense. “I’m letting you know now; this next one is Toppo and Appa snuggling. If you look at them, this stream is over.”

“Why on gods decaying earth would you tell me that?” You whine. “Now I wanna see my little kitty and puppyyyy.”

“I am your Kitty. So shush.” With that, Kenma’s index finger clicks onto the next slide, and he’s gotta give you credit, your eyes dart to his side finally, then immediately dash to the picture of Appa sleeping in a ball, with Toppo curled on top in an extremely similar fashion. “At least you looked at me first.”

He adds one gifted sub to the total, trying to ignore your snickering next to him.

“But look at how cute they are-“

“Don’t try to save yourself,” he says, clearly trying to hide the smile in his voice.

“Okay,” You giggle.

This continues for more than Kenma would like- as amusing as he finds it.

One look at him. Another look at him. One look at an anime poster. Another look at a random picture of a panda bear.

He’d love to pretend that this is annoying him; but his teasing of you and your laughter and rapid explaining have him cackling to his own self.

The last picture is, naturally, the biggest test, and Kenma gives you a look before clicking the next link. It’s a picture of him, asleep with a newborn Maesi on his chest and hair sprawled everywhere- it’s one you took of him when you first brought her home. On the other side, is a stupid picture of the stupid actor you stupidly like so stupidly much.

Your eyes dart to him and Maesi. And he immediately leaps up, cheering and thrilled as you laugh at the reaction. “SHE LOVES ME, CHAT! WE FUCKIN’ DID IT! WE RIIIIIIDE!”

“Dramatic ass!” You snort, laughing in your hands while he celebrates in the background. “It’s because you had Spawn in your picture.”

“Worth it. Whoo!” He sits down next to you and leans over to kiss your cheek, arm tossing around you to keep you close. You titter and try to shrug him away, “the only woman to exist ever. The love of my life. Beautiful mother of my child.” The chat floods with donations and cheers, but all he can focus on is your playful bats against him. “Game over. I’ve won. Next task chat.”

“You’re annoying.”

“And you looked at me.”

735 notes · View notes

whateveriwant · 9 months

Note

hi!! i really love your 141 headcannons, can i ask for the 141 with a exotic animal vet/zoologist s/o? tysm!!! 🤍

Soap

He thinks you are the coolest person to walk the planet

Seriously, with the way he looks at you sometimes, you swear it's like you're a superhero or something

Any chance he can get to brag about you to his friends, family, or even total strangers, he's taking it. And when he does start to talk, they better settle in for a while because he is not shutting up anytime soon

One of his favorite things about you is what he calls your “mental encyclopedia” of animals. It can be very helpful to refer to, especially when he's trying to describe exotic animals he's come across in the field

“What d’ye call those awkward, pine cone lookin’ lads?” he asks from the room over. You take a moment to think before shouting out your answer, a second later hearing the keys of his laptop clicking as he confirms for himself. “Pangolin! Yes! Tha’s the wee devil who stole my socks!”

Ghost

While he doesn't like to talk shop when it comes to his job, he could spend hours listening to you talk about yours

It's become a staple of your routine where every time you come home from work, he's there asking how your day went (and, get this, he's genuinely interested in your response)

Because he's usually pretty silent as he listens to you recount your day, sometimes you think he isn't even paying attention to you at all

But of course, just as soon as you begin to doubt him, he'll hit you with something that shows how attentive he's been all along

“How's Mona fairin’ by the way?” he asks one night in the middle of making dinner. Mona? The red panda who had a cough the other month? She's all well again, you tell him, surprised he remembered that. If he notices your shock, he doesn't say anything; he just gives a satisfied hum in response and continues cooking

Price

Because his job is so integral to who he is as a person, he loves having a partner who's also just as dedicated to their work as he is

He'll stop at nothing when it comes to supporting you and your dreams, a big one he knows is to travel the world one day. He plans to make that dream come true once he retires, but until then, he'll have to settle for bringing the world to you

Thus, every time he comes home from deployment, he's always bearing souvenirs – many of them featuring animals puns because he knows they're your favorite

It started as a joke at first when he saw a silly magnet he just couldn't pass up. But now it's become a proper tradition between you two, so every time he leaves, you're expecting to add another item to your collection once he returns

His favorite is a toss up between your ‘Toucan do it!’ inspirational poster and your matching ‘I'm with jackass’ / ‘I'm jackass’ donkey shirts

Gaz

He loves animals just as much as you do (if not more, honestly)

Literally on your first date together when you told him what you do for a living, he was about ready to drop down on one knee and pop the question right then and there

If it's a zoo or perhaps a sanctuary that you work at, you best believe you'll find him visiting you at every available opportunity he has

He sees you forgot your lunch at home? Oh no, he better bring it to you before you starve! He's running a few errands in the neighborhood? Hmm, might as well stop by and see his boo at work! (and, well, since he's already here, he might as well check out the new reptile exhibit you've been mentioning too)

Honestly, with just how frequently you're always bumping into him at work, you're convinced that most of the time he's not even there to see you

567 notes · View notes

authorhjk1 · 6 months

Note

I don’t know if you still do shorts but in the case you’d still do I’d love to see your take on Saerom of Fromis_9 dominating a sub reader

You knew this would happen as soon as Soyeon put her head onto your shoulder. The girls watched a movie with you after eating dinner. Your girlfriend held your hand, sitting on your right side, while the sleepy panda occupied your left. You could feel Searom's angry stares, when Soyeon let her hand run mindlessly along the buttons of your shirt, before she held onto your collar.

You knew in that very moment that you were in for a long night. And Saerom did not disappoint at all.

90% of the time, your girlfriend is a sweet, playful sunshine. But in moments like this, when another woman is involved, she seems to become incredibly jealous. Even when that other woman is one of the members.

"Do you like being grabbed like this, huh!?"

Saerom angrily shouts as she bounces on top of you. Your hands are tied to her bedposts, your pants and underwear lying somewhere on the floor.

"Saerom..."

You try to argue with her, try to explain the situation, but you do know that it is in vein.

Your girlfriend usually loves to ride you slow and with care, enjoying your company more than the act of sex itself. But in moments like these, she seems to turn into a wild animal.

"Tell me! You think that whore could ride you like I do?!"

You know that Saerom doesn't mean to insult Soyeon. She is just too far gone at this point. By tomorrow morning, she will be her old self. But until then, you will be the one on the receiving end of her emotions.

"Saerom. I love you. I would nev-"

She pulls at your collar, the first button tearing off and flying into one of the corners of her room.

"Stop lying."

Her voice is now quieter and her face is now closer to yours.

"You know that there is only one way for you to prove your love."

You slowly nod, bracing yourself for what's going to come next.

"Be a good fucktoy and I might let you live."

You always are.

Saerom starts to increase the pace of her riding. She was already fast before, but now she is reaching new hights. You can't believe how fast she is going.

Hours after hours spend in the gym and dancing finally paying off. Her thighs look so full, you would love to feel them wrapped around your head as she rides your face. Her toned stomach is another thing your eyes focus on.

You would love to run your hands over her tight midriff, feeling every single one of her muscles. Unfortunately, you are bound to her bed, unable to move.

"Saerom..."

You try to warn her.

But she already knows. She can feel how you're getting closer to your orgasm. She feels your cock twitch inside of her. This is the way to show her how much you love her.

"Creampie me, fucktoy."

Saerom is still pulling at your collar, threatening to rip it off.

You feel a little ashamed at her words, knowing that probably at least on of the other girls is secretly listening. You caught some of them before.

"Mommy..."

You can't help it. It just slipped out of your mouth.

But you know how much Saerom likes it. Her smile is genuine, knowing that you are hers. And only hers.

"Cum for mommy."

She whispers into your ears, bucking her hips against yours. Her tight walls squeeze your cock.

Finally, you start to orgasm. Ropes of cum paint Saerom's insides. She humms in satisfaction, feeling your warmth spread through her body. She flexes her muscles, trying to drain you completely.

You can't believe how good it feels to creampie your girlfriend. It amazes you everytime. And you are blissfully aware that you still have the whole night left.

As Saerom slowly lifts herself upwards, you see your cum coating your cock. She lifts herself up too high, your cock leaving her. You see how more of your cum slowly falls out of her pussy.

"So much delicious cum."

Saerom scoops up a little bit, before putting her finger into her mouth.

"Let's see how much more you have in you."

"Saerom, give me a-"

Saerom puts her hand over your mouth.

"I don't want to hear another word from you, unless I ask."

You feel her lowering herself onto your cock again.

"Be a good boy and let mommy ride you.

----

Thank you for this ask.

Stay healthy!

#ask #kpop #anon #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #fromis 9 #saerom #fromis 9 smut #authorhjk1shorts

244 notes · View notes

bachiras-toaster · 1 year

Text

seven minutes in heaven : ̗̀➛

YUTA OKKOTSU x afab!reader

cw: yuta is a boob guy, reader has tear-shaped boobs, shamefully pervy!yuta, all characters aged up, drunk!reader, alcohol, virgin!yuta

wc: 4k

The truth was, Yuta liked you. He liked your humour, your personality, your smile, and practically everything about you. Although, one of the aspects of your being he felt that he was so shamefully attracted to was your body- Every part of it, actually. Especially your boobs.

He had seen them up close and personal a few times when he had conversations with you, but for the most part, he had kept his distance. Though, despite having to admire them from far away, he could never take his eyes off your chest no matter what you were wearing. V-necks and low cut tops were a heavenly sight to him and he had always thanked his lucky stars whenever he saw you rock up to outings with the group in them, however he was also attracted enough to you to appreciate when you didn't have any cleavage on display. Even when you wore things like turtlenecks or t-shirts, he still loved how he could see the outline and shape of your breasts and he loved leaving it up to the imagination.

He had only really confided in two people about his little crush on you: and that was Inumaki and Panda. Being the other two guys he was the closest with in the friendship group, he felt like he could really trust them. They had never gone against his trust, however it had often become a topic of teasing, especially when they were faced with an opportunity to push Yuta outside of his comfort zone. Whenever they saw that you were slightly revealing tops, they would shoot glances at Yuta to see if he was staring- Which he always was, every single time. Though it seemed like now their confidence in wingmaning had become a lot more daring thanks to a house party that one of their friends had hosted.

Needless to say, drinking was involved, and you were starting to feel the effects of partying. Others had also gotten quite drunk, such as people like Nobara and Yuji, but neither were quite as bold as you were when you were drunk. You were someone who already loved taking risks when you were sober, so being drunk practically meant that you were up for any challenge that came your way.

Yuta meekly watched from the corner as Panda and Inumaki conversed with Nobara on the other side of the room in hushed voices. He hadn't been suspicious at first, but when he saw them shooting gazes back at him and pointing, he felt his heart drop. They were his friends. Surely they weren't saying anything bad, right? Part of him wanted to get up there and join in on their conversation just to see what all the fuss was about, but as he put his cup to the side to get up from his seat, Nobara erupted into a loud cackle and cupped her hands together to yell at the people situated in the lounge.

"Alright! Who's ready for some seven minutes in heaven?!" She screamed excitedly, causing a loud uproar of eager cheers to fill the living room. Yuta gasped when he heard the announcement, turning towards Inumaki and Panda, who had already made their ways back to his side, chuckling.

"What did you do-?! Did you tell her to host a game of seven minutes in heaven?!" Yuta asked frantically in a flustered tone, already feeling his cheeks blush a shade of bright red.

"Salmon." Inumaki held the thumbs up with a proud smile.

"Relax, Nobara's totally in on the plan." Panda wrapped his arm around Yuta's shoulder, copying the hand gesture that Inumaki had held up. The black-haired man simply shoved Panda's large arm off of his shoulders and stared at him, absolutely horrified.

"Plan?! What plan?!" His voice pitched a high and terrified tone. "What did you tell her?! I was just asking about the game!"

"Stop worrying. She's not gonna tell anyone. She's totally reliable." Panda assured him, holding his paw on Yuta's shoulder in a quick attempt to calm him down. "She asked us how we thought we could make the party more interesting and we just... Briefly mentioned how a good game could bring you and (Y/n) closer together!"

"Tuna!"

"If you could believe it, she actually wanted (Y/n) to get closer with someone! She didn't explicitly mention you, but she said how she always noticed how boring (Y/n)'s like must be without a partner."

"You had no right to tell her that—!" Yuta made a short-lived attempt to give the two a piece of his mind, but he was interrupted with another deafening cheer as he saw (Y/n) stumble to Nobara's side.

He watched intently as you had practically dashed to the front of the room where Nobara stood, holding your hands up to point towards yourself with a large grin on your face. You weren't exactly drunk enough to the point where you couldn't even stand, however you were having a little trouble running in a straight line.

"Me, pick me!" You begged her, clasping your hands together as you fell to your knees in front of her. "I want to play a round!"

"Of course! Thank you for volunteering!" Nobara giggled as she helped you back onto your feet by grabbing your forearm. "Oh, but who am I going to pair you with...?" She frowned, her eyes already being set directly onto Yuta.

His skin ran cold as he made eye-contact with the light brunette girl and he immediately looked away, his eyes trying to find every corner of the room before he let them find Nobara's eyes again. Yet no matter how hard he attempted to look away, his friends knew better than to let Yuta pass this golden opportunity up- especially after they had worked so hard to even let it happen in the first place.

Without a second thought, both Panda and Inumaki instinctively shoved Yuta forward into the crowd of people, causing him to tumble forward. The people that he felt into got the quick impression that he was offering himself up and grabbed at his wrist to force his hand into the air. Panda and Inumaki exchanged proud glances as Yuta's hand was forced up high by a blue-haired girl, who was excited to see that someone was apparently willing to go forward with the game.

"And who's that handsome man I see at the back?" Nobara's grin widened as she pretended to scan the area, leaning forward with her palms stretched above her eyes to give her a clearer view of the crowd. "Yuta Okkotsu! You seem like the perfect match for this game!"

The people surrounding him already began shoving him forward closer to the front of the room where Nobara and you were stood. His heart raced the closer he got and he made multiple attempts to push out of their grasp, to no avail.

"Oh no, I wasn't volunteering or anything! I was just accidentally shoved into people who thought I was!—" He stammered, his face flushing as he finally reached the front of the room, where Nobara had already latched her palm around his wrist, dragging you both to the nearest walk-in cabinet.

"Oh, so you're saying you wouldn't want to be trapped in a room with dear old (Y/n) here?" She paused to give Yuta a playful glare, gently tapping on your cheeks before squeezing them lovingly. "Grow up, it's only seven minutes!"

When a big enough cabinet was found, the two of you were both shoved inside without a second thought. You and Yuta had been engulfed between hung-up coats and a collection of shoes at your feet, the jackets and cardigans that were strung up in the cabinet practically served as a curtain to hide Yuta's profusely blushing face. Nobara smiled widely and waved at the two of you, and he could just about see Panda and Inumaki's smug expressions hiding behind the girl’s friendly face.

"We'll let you know when it's been six minutes so you have a minute to... Get ready." Nobara smirked, shutting the door and facing Panda and Yuta as she did so, high-fiving them over their great achievement.

The black-haired man made an opportunity to try and object, but the door had already been slammed in his face, and the knob clicked shut. His palm latched onto the handle to shake it desperately, whining as he tried to force it back open, but it was no use.

You had already sat down on top of one of the storage shelfs on the ground and giggled slightly when you saw how terrified Yuta seemed to be. By no means did he think that being alone with you was the worst thing in the world, but he had just never been this close to you alone in such a confined space. Truth be told, the thought of it terrified him, especially since he felt that he was too attracted to you to keep his composure for this long, especially when you were a lot... Different when you were drunk.

You were a pretty normal person when you were sober, which is why it probably would've been fine for him to be alone with you if you hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol since attending the party. Unfortunately, when you were drunk, it was like your boldness levels shot from two to a hundred. You were a lot more confident, touchy, and you let words spill from your lips at the same speed that the thoughts appeared in your mind.

"Why? Is it so bad to be alone with me?" You pretended to pout before a playful grin stretching across your glossy lips.

Yuta turned around, his heart practically squeezing in his chest. When you reached forward and tugged on the end of his sleeve to pull him forward, he swallowed a great gulp of nervousness as he stumbled into a seat in front of you, where he sat upon a small drawer that seemed to hold a shelf of sandals and slippers.

"N-No! I didn’t mean it like that! You’re a lovely woman— It’s just... I didn’t expect to have to play this sort of game…" He immediately went to scratch the back of his palms, looking down at his knees so he wouldn't have to look you straight in the eye.

"Relax, Okkotsu. Games like this always happen at parties." You take hold of his chin and guided his gaze back up into yours. Despite the darkness, you were still able to catch a glimpse of that small twinkle in his eyes, that very look that screamed innocence and adorableness.

"Th-They do..?" He stuttered.

"Of course! And we're both adults, aren't we? We've both done it before."

You shrugged and leaned back against the wall behind you with a bright smile; your expression was met with a nervous look of his own as he gnawed the inside of his cheek worriedly.

"I... Haven't." He let out softly, almost as if he were afraid to admit that.

"—Really?!"

"...I haven't even seen a pair of boobs in person before." He grumbled, possibly even more quietly than his last sentence.

You couldn't help but let a loud and belted cackle run from your lips, your entire face flushing with humour as you heard his comment. Your chest began to ache a little with how heavily you were laughing and tears in the corners of your eye began to make itself apparent the longer you continued to bellow in his face.

"Aw, that is so adorable! Who knew you could be so innocent!" You commented, your cheeks beginning to hurt with how widely you were grinning.

"Huh—?!"

"I knew you were like that, but I figured at least some girl would let you cop a feel at least some point in your life." Your hands rested on your knees and you squeezed the fabric of your pants to try and suppress your shaky giggles. "Why have you never mentioned that before?" You wipe the tears from your eyes with your index finger and let your hands drop to the hems of your shirt, your fingers tugging on the bottom of your top.

"Because...! —It's not relevant!" He nervously bit back, trying to defend himself.

"You're too much of a gentleman, Yuta." Your smile softened as you lifted up your shirt to remove it, your hair flowing against the neck-hole in your top for a more exciting reveal. "Surely you've thought about wanting to grab some girl's tits at least once." Your top dropped to your side as you leaned back a bit to reveal yourself shirtless, wearing nothing on your top-half aside from what seemed to be a regular bra.

He hesitated at your comment for a moment, biting the inside of his lip as his cheeks felt warm again. He faced forward, but his eyes looked to the wall behind you instead of at your breasts, feeling like it was wrong to be staring at you so vulnerably.

"Wanna see mine?" Your voice dipped to a more deeper and whispery tone, almost like you were talking to him as if you were a sultry lady trying to invite him into your bed.

"—What—?!" He was immediately caught off guard and looked you right in the eye, his lid widened to reveal that coat of shock that lingered in his state.

"They're probably not as round as you would imagine them— Assuming you've thought about the shape of my boobs before..." You tease, gently prodding your own chest in your bra as you chuckled.

"—I'm sure they're... Fine..." He gulped.

This is more of what terrified him when you were drunk. You were so... Open. It turned him into a nervous mess and he was never sure how to react to anything you were saying. It seemed like tonight, your confidence had been taken to the next level and you were even more daring than before. You weren't exactly a saint, but he knew for sure that this would never be something that you would offer to him if you had been sober. If you hadn't drank that night, the conversation probably would've just ended after you laughed at him and you would've forgotten than he had even told you that the next day.

"Hah! You're so cute! How do girls not rip their shirts off at the sight of you?" You pulled your lips into a smirk as you shifted your hand behind your back to fiddle with the clasp of your bra.

As the clasp fell apart, your boobs sank a little after being taken out of what was revealed to be a push-up bra. Despite them drooping a little, Yuta was mesmerised all the same, his eyes glistening as they landed on how perfectly tense your nipples looked in the dim lighting.

"Sorry. They're probably not as full as expected. Then again, beggars can't be choosers." You shrugged, allowing your bra to drop right next to your cast-away shirt.

"No, they're... They're exactly how I imagined them." His mouth practically watered at the sight of them and he seemed to be involuntarily inching closer to them. You broke out into a cheeky smirk after his response.

"Why don't you feel them?" You said, gripping onto a handful of your own tit in order to make the offer sound more enticing to him.

"...Really?"

"Go ahead. Feel how nice they are." You leaned forward a little bit, completely consenting to his curiosity.

He reached forward and hesitantly spread his palm over your left breast, squeezing it softly to gauge the feeling of it in his palm. He pawed nervously at the fat of your chest for about twenty seconds, but you quickly grew irritated with how slow he was taking it and rolled your eyes, clicking your tongue at your own impatience.

"Ugh, stop being so gentle!" You snapped, pushing yourself further into him so you were basically settled between his legs now. His heart thumped faster when more of your boob was pushed into his hand and he did just as you commanded him to.

He took his other unoccupied hand and reached for your other breast, grasping them as desperately as he wished he could've done so before. He fondled with them as if they were stress balls, feeling himself get lost in the sensation of your skin. They felt so tender, not exactly how he imagined they would be. For some reason, he always thought that boobs would be a lot more... Stiff, because of how they looked in bras, that was. But yours were so silky, so smooth. He pawed at them like a kitten would paw at carpet, his thumbs flicking over your sensitive nipples too.

"(Y/n), can I... Taste... Too?" His lips were already so close to your chest that he was just a few centimetres away from licking them himself.

"Greedy, aren't we?" You giggled, lifting your chest up towards him. "Go ahead."

He attacked his lips onto your nipple and treated it as if it were another pair of lips that he was kissing, his mouth running over your skin like a lollipop and licking every inch of it. You moaned softly and lifted your palm up to run your fingers through his hair as he pinched large areas in the fat of your boob so he could take more of your nipple into his mouth.

He felt like he was in heaven, and the soft whines that escaped from his mouth as he left sloppy kisses across your chest was proof of that. His pants began to tighten and he felt a tent form in his crotch, but he promptly ignored it because of his good he felt at the moment. You hadn't noticed how turned on he was getting just from sucking yourself tits because your eyes were fluttered closed at the sensation- All you were thinking was how warm the inside of his mouth felt.

"You have one minute left in there!" Nobara announced loudly on the other side of the wall, banging repeatedly on the door to let the two of you know that it was almost time to wrap it up.

"Ah! Would you look at the time!" You pushed Yuta's head away from your chest, causing him to whimper slightly as his lips lost connecting with your wet nipple. "Aren't you lucky? Spending six minutes in here touching boobs for the first time!"

He frantically went to cover his crotch with his palms as he regained his composure when you pulled away from him. He nervously continued to stare at you as you shoved yourself back into your bra and threw your shirt back over your chest, cleaning yourself up as if it had never happened. You still felt traces of his warm saliva linger on your skin even after you covered yourself back up, but it wasn't a feeling that wss visible to the outside eye.

When the time clocked, you swung the door open yourself a walked outside with a jolly stride, your smile beaming even brighter than ever. Passing by you as you left was Panda, Nobara, and Inumaki, who shoved themself inside of the cabinet before Yuta even had a chance to get up.

Yuta was pushed back down into his seat by Panda, who eagerly pushed himself onto where you had been previously sat so he, Inumaki, and Nobara could all face him with bright grins. Inumaki, being the last to enter, stood and shut the door so he could guard the entrance.

"Why are you guys coming inside—?!" Yuta was swiftly cut off by Panda, who was frantically shoving the coats out of his face so he could properly look at Yuta.

"We're not playing another round yet, we're just checking in on you! We wanna know how it goes!"

"Guys, please go away—" Yuta bit his tongue, feeling the humiliation creep further onto his face as he realised he had to shield the tent forming in his pants in front of his friends.

"Is that a boner?! No way, did you actually do it with (Y/n)?" Nobara’s jaw hung open.

"—No, we didn't!"

"Did she see it?" Panda intersected, his curiosity clearly taking over.

"No! ...I don't think so..."

"Knowing her, she probably didn't. It looks like it's super dark in here." Nobara squinted as she looked around, only seeing faint and dark silhouettes of the basic shapes inside the room.

"Salmon." Inumaki noted.

"Guys! Again, what is it you want?" He yelled, his face red with embarrassment- Though it wasn’t a colour that the trio could see very well in the darkness.

"Details! What happened? Tell us everything!" Nobara squealed, flapping her hands and tapping her feet excitedly as she implored him to continue.

"Mustard leaf!"

"And please, don't spare any details! We wanna know exactly what went down. Did she see your dick?"

"You guys are sounding really creepy..." Yuta’s teeth gritted at the sound of the numerous questions flowing into his brain. It just made it more difficult to conceal both his blush and his erection; he just hunched over and covered his lap with his arms and buried his face into his own shoulders.

"We just want to know! Stop stalling and give us the scoop!"

"Well..." He muttered, still looking down at his own lap. "…She let me see her boobs."

"She did?!" The three all exclaimed in unison.

"She even let me touch them... I was really hesitant at first, but she told me to stop being so gentle and basically forced me to grab more of her." His voice went shaky as he continued. "And she... Let me lick them as well."

"And you got a boner over that? I mean, I don't blame you! (Y/n) has beautiful tits." Nobara sighed in awe.

"Salmon."

"You're so lucky! Do you think if I was in here with Maki, she'd let me do the same to her?" The girl whined at the thought; her comment was promptly ignored by the others surrounding her.

"Well, congratulations, Yuta! You've practically taken the biggest step in your relationship with (Y/n)! This is huge for you!" Panda pushed Yuta’s head up to force him to look at his the friends- The black-haired man was immediately met with that same grin Panda always had after a stupid idea.

"Yeah, man! Come on! Stop being all fidgety!” Nobara slapped him playfully in the arm. “How did they feel?"

Yuta just whined a little as he readjusted himself to fully reveal his face to them once more. They saw how pink his cheeks were and how his lips quivered with both a mix of excitement and embarrassment. His palms were gripped tightly on his sleeves as he crossed his arms over his chest to truly convey his tense state.

There was a long moment of silence, accompanied by the sounds of Yuta’s soft breathing as he remembered vividly how the moment went down. Inumaki, Nobara, and Panda just looked at him wide-eyed, awaiting his answer to be served to them on a silver platter. After what felt like the most agonising ten seconds of piece and quiet, Yuta inhaled sharply as he ran his hands over his face before propping his chin up onto the palms of his hands, his lips thinning out into a nervous, straight line.

"...They were… Really soft..." He let out quietly, like it was some sort of crime to comment on the pleasure he felt during that very moment. "...I wanna hold them again..."

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader smut #nobara kugisaki #panda #toge inumaki

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m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months

Text

I LEAVE YOU

Synopsis: “Mispronounced words. He had mispronounced one of the simplest words in the English language, and it had led to all of this.” (Also know as Inumaki Toge Tries To Tell You He Loves You, But It All Goes Terribly Wrong)

JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Inumaki x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warnings: crack fic, secondhand embarrassment, miscommunication, mentions of sex toys/fetishes (non-explicit), megumi deserves damage pay, probably not lore-compliant, not at all to be taken seriously, characters are probably ooc tbh

A/N: i posted this literally two years ago on ao3 and it just occurred to me to put it on here LMAOAO anyways i obv wrote this a long time ago and it’s the most unserious ridiculous thing ever so please don’t judge me based on this fluffy goofy silly cracky nonsense i promise I’m better now!!

divider credits: @/benkeibear

The first emotion that spiked through you when you heard that the second years were back from their mission was relief. None of them were dead; anything else, you could deal with.

You had rushed to the infirmary, ignoring Nobara’s snickers. She alone knew who you was sprinting to see — your feelings for a certainupperclassman were highly secret, of course, but somehow she had found out, and of course she had, because she was Kugisaki Nobara, and nothing could really be kept secret from her for very long.

She had been urging you to do something, to make a move, citing that it “wasn’t like he had a lot of girls interested in him, anyways,” but you had always been too shy. You weren’t sure that you could handle a rejection, and it was hard to tell whether he was interested in you or just polite.

But your fear did not stop you from skidding to a stop in front of Shoko, giving her a wide-eyed stare, patiently waiting for her to tell you what was wrong with your friends.

“Did you need something?” she said. Obviously, her cursed technique had nothing to do with reading minds, but you still scowled at her for not knowing what you were thinking.

“The second years. Are…are they alright?” you said. She frowned, and this was your first clue that there was something less than alright going on with the trio.

“Well, they’re not permanently hurt, no,” she said. You sighed in relief — this was more than you could’ve hoped for. The curse that they had been sent to fight was obviously a strong one, and more than that, it was wily, with a rumored arsenal of techniques far beyond what you could even comprehend.

“That’s good,” you said.

“It is. They’ll all make a full recovery; Maki and Panda were barely impacted, anyways,” she said. Your blood ran cold at the name she didn’t mention.

“And Inumaki?” you said. If something had happened to him…you weren’t sure what you’d do. Probably cry. A lot.

“He’s fine, just a bit shocked. See, the curse managed to take his cursed energy from him, so until that’s been replenished, he’s just a normal person,” she said.

“Huh?” you said. “What does that mean?”

“Why don’t you just ask him yourself?” she said, ushering you into the infirmary, “I know that’s why you’re really here.”

Maki and Panda were nowhere to be found, and Shoko groaned, muttering about irresponsible children and telling you she’d be back with her patients in tow once more. This left you alone in the room with Inumaki Toge — at once your biggest dream and greatest fear.

You did not speak for the first few moments, far too nervous to open your mouth. He was buried in a mountain of pillows and blankets, soft blond hair falling in his violet eyes as he flipped through the pages of a book. His zipped up collar was nowhere to be seen; he only wore a plain white t-shirt, leaving his snake-fang seals visible. You had always thought they were pretty, so then your nerves were overtaken by infatuation with the elegant markings. The end result was the same: when Inumaki looked up, it was to you awkwardly standing in the room and watching him read.

“Hello,” he said. This made you pause and think.

“Hi?” you said.

“How are you doing?” he said. Now you really were confused.

“Not that I’m complaining, but can’t you…not speak?” you said. He set his book on his nightstand and sat up with a heavy sigh.

“Normally, I can’t. But as of right now, I can. That’s the effect of that curse we fought. I have the most cursed energy out of the three of us second years, so it drained mine, which means I’m unable to use my technique until my energy’s built up again. Shoko estimates it’ll be about a week,” he said.

“Oh!” you said. So Inumaki had one week of talking normally before he would be back to his usual limited speech. You wondered what he would think to say.

You had met Inumaki on your first day at Jujutsu Tech. He had helped you find your dorm room and then, via text, warned you about Gojo’s antics. Your crush had been born the very same day. He was so beautiful and kind that it was almost a no-brainer, really; though he could only speak in rice ball components, you didn’t even care. You found solace in swooning at him from afar, and every conversation you had ever had with him since then was filed away in a special corner of your mind, played on repeat whenever you were bored.

Nobara thought you were crazy when she found out, asking you if you had an ingredients fetish and then teasing you for a solid day by moaning tuna in your ear whenever she saw you. She only stopped because you started crying and begged Fushiguro’s Divine Dogs to chase her away if she got too close. The dogs were friendly enough and obliged, though you had had to buy Fushiguro several bags of candy for his troubles.

You could hear her voice in your ear right now as you stared at Inumaki, though it was thankfully not her moaning ingredients but rather her insisting that you say something. It was so easy; now, at least, he could reject you properly, with words instead of helpless frustration and a long-winded text about how you were nice, really, but he just thought of you as an annoying friend who didn’t leave him alone, and anyways, why would he ever like you?

“Can I tell you something?” he said before you could ask to do the same. Privately, you were relieved at this, for it meant you could procrastinate your confession a little further.

“What’s up?” you said, a small, childish hope arising in you that maybe, just maybe, this was it. Maybe he’d confess first, and then things would be very simple indeed. You allowed yourself to feel excitement building at this prospect.

“I…oh, man, how do I do this?” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a flush rising over his pale cheeks. “Ah, shit, I’ve spent my whole life wishing I could speak and having so many things to say but not the words to say them, and now that I finally can talk, I just don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s alright. You can take your time, I don’t mind,” you said politely. And you didn’t mind — whatever he had to say, you would wait around for years if you needed to in order to hear it. He ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll just come out with it, then!” he said, nodding determinedly before locking eyes with you, “I leave you.”

It suddenly felt like you were underwater, ears ringing. Your throat choked, and pathetic, childish tears blurred your vision. He was leaving. Inumaki, for whatever reason, was leaving. And not only was he leaving, he was leaving you in specific.

“R-really?” you said, forcing a smile, though you knew it was awfully unconvincing. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What?” He seemed embarrassed, now, averting his eyes, “No, why would you think that?”

“Well, you just said…” you trailed off helplessly.

“Oh. I thought you would be happy,” he said, his voice quiet, small, ashamed. He looked almost brokenhearted, though why he would be feeling hurt about this development, you could not be sure. He was the one making the choice to leave; you were the one fated to stay behind.

“Why would I be happy about that?” you said. He was dejected when he spoke next.

“Never mind. I don’t…I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said.

“I’ll still support you,” you said, steeling yourself to flash him a watery smile, “I hope we can still be friends.”

“Yes! Yes, please, please, I know I messed up by telling you this, but I don’t want us to stop being friends,” he said.

“I’m glad you told me, though. I’d rather not be left in the dark. Have you told anyone else yet?” you said.

“No, though I’m sure Panda suspects it,” he said before shifting uncomfortably to pull his blankets up and hide his face, “Can you, um, go? I want some time alone.”

“Right,” you said, “I’m glad you’re not hurt permanently.”

As you left, you thought you heard sniffles coming from the lump under the blanket, but if he really was crying, he gave you no other indication of it. You thought of lingering, of comforting him and asking him to comfort you, demanding he tell you the reason for his departure, but it was not your place. So, biting the inside of your cheek to hold your tears back, you marched towards Nobara’s dorm.

“He told you he’s leaving you?” she said, ten minutes later once you had explained to her the entire story. “How odd. And he hasn’t told anyone he’s transferring yet? Not even Gojo or Principal Yaga?”

“No,” you said, finding solace in her warm embrace, the scent of roses that wafted off of her skin, “I just don’t understand why he’s going.”

“It’s so strange. I mean, I really thought he liked you! Although, maybe he does. Think about it, you’re the first person he’s told, so clearly he trusts you a lot!” she said.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” you said, “Regardless as to his reasons, it remains that he’s leaving me. At least he said we can still be friends, though.”

“Wait!” she said, and there was a conniving smirk on her face that spelled trouble, “I have an idea. Let’s throw a surprise going-away-party for him! Even if you don’t confess, at least it’ll show you care about him. And maybe we’ll be able to figure out why he’s leaving and where he’s going, too.”

“We have to do it before the end of the week, then, that’s when Shoko estimates his cursed energy will be back to normal and he won’t be able to talk anymore,” you said.

“I doubt you’d be complaining about that, Miss Ingredients Fetish,” Nobara said.

“I don’t have a fetish for ingredients!” you said, wriggling out of her hug and glaring at her.

“Oh, really? So you won’t get all hot and bothered if I say ‘salmon,’ right?” she said.

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Nobara, I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” you said.

“Salmon,” she said, panting dramatically and clutching her chest. You threw a pillow at her, knocking her off of the bed in a fit of laughter.

“You suck,” you said.

“You swallow,” she shot back.

“Ugh! You’re hopeless!” you said, throwing your hands in the air.

“I’ll text the group chat to make plans for the party!” she said. You gave her the finger and stomped out of her room to go sit in your own and mope about the fact that Inumaki was leaving.

Really, this was probably a good thing. After all, with him gone, you didn’t have to worry about him accidentally finding out about your crush. And maybe you’d even be able to move on, though you had no idea who at this school would measure up to Inumaki.

Nobara’s plan was sound, though. A going away party would be perfect to wish him one final farewell — provided, of course, that you were able to keep it a secret from the boy. This was easier said than done, but you were determined. You would make Inumaki’s party an occasion to remember, but this meant you had to call in some help.

The first thing you did the next day was video call Okkotsu, who was currently in Africa, training with a sorcerer named Miguel. You had to track down Maki and beg her for his number; she had been very confused but had given it to you anyways.

This left you staring at your phone screen, praying he would pick up. Inumaki and Okkotsu were best friends, so it would be wrong to not tell the black-haired sorcerer about your plans. He also might have some insight as to where Inumaki was going and why he was leaving.

“Hello?” Thankfully, Okkotsu picked up, looking extraordinarily confused. There were dark circles under his eyes and a katana strapped to his back. Despite the fact that he looked battle ready, he was just sitting on a couch and shoving chips in his mouth. “Who is this?”

“Okkotsu, sir! This is Y/N, I’m one of the first years at Jujutsu Tech,” you said.

“Okay. Don’t call me sir, it’s weird and I’m only a year older than you. Is there a reason you’re calling me?” he said.

“Yes, there is. See, Inumaki —” you began before he cut you off.

“Ohhh, you’re that Y/N! Yeah, yeah, I completely approve,” he said.

“Did Nobara already tell you?” you said.

“No, Inumaki’s been telling me about this for months now! Who’s Nobara?” he said.

“Months? But we didn’t even start planning until yesterday,” you said.

“He’s been dreaming of this day since the beginning of the year, even video called me and everything! I don’t think I’ve heard him say ‘salmon’ as many times in a row ever before or since,” he said. Unbidden, you remembered Nobara’s actions from yesterday and shivered before shaking your head to clear such thoughts from your mind.

“Do you know why he…you know?” you said. If Inumaki really had been planning on leaving for so long, then certainly Okkotsu would know why. The boy hummed and nodded.

“Yeah, for sure! But it’s a little weird if I say it, you know? Against the bro code or whatever, and it’d feel a bit too much like I was trying to slide in, which I’m not! Just ask him, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to tell you. God, he must be so happy right now! I wish I could be there to see it,” he said.

“Well, that’s actually why I called you. I’m throwing a surprise party in honor of the occasion, and I was wondering if you’d be able to come, or at least video call in,” you said. Each word Okkotsu uttered was like a stab in the heart, further reinforcing the fact that Inumaki really, really, really didn’t like you. Why else did he make plans to leave the literal day he had met you? You only wished he would’ve gone sooner so that your feelings did not build up and compound from a simple admiration into something greater, something beautiful and untouchable yet twisted and cruel.

“Sounds like a great time! Just video call me, I’ll be sure to pick up. And I’ll try to send something along as a gift, too! Damn, I know it’s not my news to be excited for, but it feels as though my heart’s going to burst!” he said, popping a final chip into his mouth before hanging up. You stared at the phone’s black screen for a second, marvelling at how this short conversation had made you feel even worse about the status of your relationship with Inumaki.

Before, you had believed that the two of you were friends, at least. You both had gotten along well enough — you would train together and slip each other notes with book recommendations. He had told you his favorite restaurant and described exactly the meal you should order, and you had introduced him to your favorite television series. Yet with the latest revelations that your discussion with Okkotsu had brought about, it was clear that all of this was Inumaki doing the bare minimum to tolerate you until the day he could leave.

Maybe he was glad that he could speak, if only for a short time. It allowed him to tell you in no uncertain terms that he was going away. If only he had elaborated back then! If only he had said that he felt such a way about you from the very start instead of leading you on with candy-sweet platitudes and feigned affection.

With Okkotsu’s presence now confirmed (and a gift apparently on the way), you moved on to the next thing you had to do in order to prepare for the party: recruit the other second years.

You decided to start with Maki. Though she was seemingly brusque, she was also a caring girl, and you knew she’d be thrilled to help throw a farewell party for one of her closest friends, even if she had not known he was leaving until just now.

As expected, she was properly enraged upon hearing the news.

“He’s leaving? Leaving where, exactly? The only place he’ll be going is hell, because I’m about to punch him so hard that that’s where he’ll end up!” she said, balling her fists, a vein popping in her forehead.

“Woah, hey, Maki! I don’t know where he’s going, but please don’t confront him. I don’t think he wants people knowing, and I want the party to be a surprise. He might get suspicious if he realizes that you know,” you said.

“Stupid idiot, won’t even tell his own classmates that he’s going,” she muttered, “I’ll keep your secret. But I will be committing violence at the party.”

“Please don’t!” you said, distressed at the thought, “I want him to have a fun final memory of Jujutsu Tech.”

Her eyes softened when she looked at you, and she nodded begrudgingly. “Alright. Your secret, and your party, are safe with me. I won’t tell a soul! Although, you know…a surprise farewell party would be a great place to confess your feelings.”

“How — how do you know about my feelings?” you said.

“Firstly, you’re not exactly subtle, the others are just really oblivious. Secondly, Nobara mayyyy have let something slip,” she said.

“I’m going to kill her,” you said.

“Don’t,” she said.

“No, I’m seriously considering it,” you said.

“If you do, I’ll ruin Inumaki’s party,” she threatened.

“Fine!” you whined like a child, “I’m going to go talk to Panda.”

The large bear was asleep in the sun when you reached him. You nudged him with your foot in an attempt to get him to wake up; thankfully, he did, blinking his beetle-dark eyes open sleepily and sitting up when he saw you.

“Panda, I need your help,” you said seriously once you were sure that you had his undivided attention.

“What’s the matter?” he said.

“Inumaki’s leaving, so I’m throwing him a party,” you said. Panda furrowed his brow, clearly trying to process this development.

“He is?” he finally said. You nodded, a small frown tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah, he literally told me as much! He was all like ‘I leave you,’ and it was kind of upsetting, actually,” you said.

“How interesting,” he said finally, and now there was mischief in his expression, “And you need my help with hosting a party?”

“I don’t know how much of a party it’ll be, exactly, I mean it’ll only be the first and second years, but yes, basically,” you said. He chuckled, rubbing his paws together menacingly.

“Excellent. Yes, I’d love to help! And it’s a surprise, right?” he said.

“Yes?” you said. He looked almost evil at this point, baring his teeth in his version of a smirk.

“Even better.”

With the second years thusly recruited and the first years taken care of by Nobara (you wasn’t sure what, exactly, she had over Fushiguro to convince him to join in on the festivities, but judging by the sour expression on his face when he RSVP'd to you, it had to be something), the guest list was complete. Panda assured you he’d get Inumaki to come without being obvious, and you were happy to entrust the task to him.

This left you to go shopping for party supplies, using Gojo’s credit card (Fushiguro had told you where it was hidden). You had convinced Nobara to stay behind, claiming that she needed to hold down the fort in your absence and get started on cleaning the room you’d use for the party. That was a lie, of course — you actually just didn’t want to take her shopping with you. If she came, you wouldn’t be back before midnight, and the party was supposed to be tonight.

“Where are you going?” Inumaki said. You almost screamed at the sound of his voice; you hadn’t expected him to just manifest out of nowhere, and especially not when you were trying to sneak out of the school in order to buy things for his surprise party.

“Shopping!” you said.

“Can I come? I feel like things were kinda left off weirdly last time we spoke, and I hoped we could try to fix them,” he said. You were unused to hearing him speak so many words at once, and you were mesmerised for a second before you mentally slapped yourself out of it.

“No! You cannot come. Sorry,” you said, feeling bad. You wanted nothing more than to talk with Inumaki, to talk and talk until your throat went dry and your words ran out, but if he saw what you were shopping for, then he’d catch on to the plan.

“Oh. Is it because I told you — ?”

“Absolutely not!” you yelped, cutting him off, not wanting him to get any ideas, “I’m shopping for personal things. Like tampons.”

“I don’t really mind that,” he said shyly, “I don’t think tampons are gross. I mean, they’re only plastic and cotton. I just really want to talk with you.”

“Sex toys!” you said.

“Um, what?” he said, taken aback. Your face was hot with embarrassment, but you needed him to understand that he was not allowed to come shopping with you. So you locked eyes with him and tried to repeat yourself.

“I am going shopping for, uh, you know…I mean, you heard me!” you said.

“Right!” he said, and he was so completely red you almost called him Clifford, “I’ll leave you to it, then! I guess we can talk later.”

You gave him a fake smile and a thumbs up, staying frozen in place until he had disappeared from sight. Then, with a wail, you called Nobara.

“I fucking told him I was shopping for sex toys!” you said, not even waiting for her to greet you like usual. There was a long silence on the other end of the line before someone cleared their throat.

“This is Fushiguro,” he said. You promptly hung up and cursed your luck. You should’ve sent Nobara to do the shopping. You really, reallyshould’ve sent Nobara.

That evening, as the sun set over the horizon and Panda distracted Inumaki, the rest of you decorated the room that Nobara and Yuji had cleared earlier in the day. Maki and Nobara were too busy whispering amongst each other to actually help, though, and you were hiding in the corner, too terrified of his reaction to even glance in Fushiguro’s direction. For his part, he did an excellent job of ignoring you, leaving him and Yuji to do the majority of the setting up.

When anxiety made it difficult to breathe, you began to fiddle with the projector, where Okkotsu’s face would be shown once he called in to the party. The green light was blinking, which meant that it was ready to go and was only waiting for you to connect your phone to it.

“It’s going to be fine,” Nobara soothed you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I think he’ll be thankful you planned something like this at all.”

“And I still think you should confess your feelings,” Maki said, adding her unwanted opinion, “Seriously! If he rejects you then it doesn’t matter, because he’ll just be leaving soon anyways. I think you should consider it.”

“She’s right,” Nobara said, “Here, maybe this’ll motivate you.”

She leaned in until her lips were barely brushing against the shell of your ear, cool breath tickling against your neck.

“What are you doing?” you said, unamused. She pitched her voice lower before speaking.

“Bonito flakes.”

“You little — stop doing that! I do not have an ingredients fetish!” you shouted, hitting her shoulder repeatedly. She burst into raucous laughter, tears of mirth gathering along her lash line.

“I’m going to have to request you to please stop talking about your intimate life in front of me, please,” Fushiguro said uncomfortably, “I already know far more than I ever wanted to.”

“Fushiguro, it wasn’t like that, I was shopping for party supplies! I only said the other thing to throw Inumaki off the trail,” you said.

“Okay,” he said, obviously not believing you but allowing you to pretend, “Whatever you say.”

“Shh! Panda and Inumaki are on their way!” Yuji said, interrupting the conversation by hushing all of you obnoxiously, “Everyone, positions!”

You all ducked behind various pieces of furniture, and one of Fushiguro’s Divine Dogs hit the light switch, plunging the room into darkness before it melted into the shadows once more.

A second later, the door creaked open, revealing Inumaki and Panda’s silhouettes standing in the frame. From beside you, Nobara began to giggle, and you pinched her in an effort to get her to shut up. It worked, although it did have the unfortunate consequence of her pinching you back.

“What’s going on here?” Inumaki said, turning the lights on. As soon as he did, you all (with the exception of Fushiguro, of course) leapt out at him. He fell backwards in surprise, staring up at you through thick lashes.

“Surprise!” Yuji said.

“It’s not my birthday?” Inumaki said.

“Do you see a cake anywhere?” Nobara said, “This isn’t a birthday party, it’s a farewell party!”

“A farewell party? But who are we saying farewell to?” Inumaki said in confusion.

“You. Did you think we wouldn’t care about your departure? You idiot, we’re going to miss you so much!” Maki said, sniffing and wiping away a tear.

“Let’s all go around and share our favorite memories with Inumaki,” Yuji said. Inumaki seemed dumbfounded, so Nobara took the initiative to respond.

“That’s a great idea! I’ll go first — I really enjoyed the one time he let me paint his nails,” she said.

“I don’t have any good memories,” Fushiguro deadpanned, “But if I had to pick a tolerable one, it would be when I convinced him to use his Cursed Speech on Nanami.”

“I remember that!” Maki said, howling in laughter, “And I can’t pick a favorite memory. We just have too many good ones.”

“Same!” Yuji said, and he was bawling now for some reason, “You’re just so cool, Inumaki! I’m so sad that you’re going!”

“Y/N, what about you?” Maki said.

“Confess! Confess! Confess!” Nobara chanted, not even trying to be subtle about it anymore.

“Be quiet!” you said.

“Do it or I’ll do it for you!” she said. You looked around at the audience; they all seemed interested, even Fushiguro. Though you wanted to talk to Inumaki in a bit more of a private setting, Nobara and Maki were right in that this was the perfect time to say something. So, taking a deep breath, you faced the boy.

“Inumaki,” you said, “I know that I’ve been acting weird recently, ever since you told me you’ll be going, but that’s because I don’t want you to. See, the truth is that I love you. I think I have for a while now, and I’m going to miss you, and I don’t want you to go, so please don’t. Please stay.”

He blinked. “Huh? What do you mean? I never said I was going anywhere.”

“Yes you did!” you said, pointing at him accusingly, “I remember it! That day in the infirmary!”

“I didn’t say I was going anywhere, I said I leave you!” he said.

“That’s the same thing!” you said indignantly, “You’re getting upset about semantics when I just confessed that I love you, idiot! Doesn’t that even mean anything to you?”

“No? I’ve never heard of that word before!” he said.

“Love? You’ve never heard of love before?” you said. He shook his head.

“Nope,” he said.

“L-O-V-E. Love. That rings no bells?” you said. His face suddenly went snow-white.

“L-O-V-E is pronounced…love?” he said.

“How the hell else would it be pronounced?” you snapped, feeling far too bewildered and irritated to soften your words. How could he have treated your feelings so flippantly? How did he just not understand love?

Inumaki suddenly found the floor incredibly fascinating. “...leave.”

“What?” You said.

“What?” he said innocently.

“OH MY GOD!” Nobara squealed, catching on far quicker than you, “You both are idiots!” Finally, you began to understand, and then you were inclined to agree with her.

“So you’re not going anywhere?” you checked.

“No, I’m not,” he said.

“He hasn’t been able to speak for practically his entire life,” Panda said, shoulders shaking with laughter, “Can you blame him if he mispronounces a couple of words now and then? It’s not like anybody’s ever corrected him before.”

Mispronounced words. He had mispronounced one of the simplest words in the English language, and it had led to all of this.

“You’re not leaving,” you said again, drawing closer to him, “You’re not leaving me.”

“I won’t ever leave you if you don’t want me to,” he said, wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug.

“Don’t,” you said, “Please don’t.”

“I love you. That’s what I meant to say all along,” he said.

“I guess I threw this whole party for nothing, then,” you said, hiding your face in his shirt.

“Is this what you were shopping for earlier? Not…the other things?” he said.

“Yeah. It was just a surprise, so I didn’t want you coming along,” you said, feeling bashful at how entirely silly the entire affair had ended up being. He let out a warm, gentle laugh that caused his chest to vibrate against your cheek.

“It’ll be hard, you know. Once this week is over, I’ll be back to only speaking in rice ball ingredients,” he warned.

“That’s probably for the best. Less room for misinterpretation,” you said.

“Plus, she has an ingredients fetish!” Nobara chimed in. You withdrew from the safety of Inumaki’s shirt to scowl at her.

“Enough with the ingredients fetish!”

A knock at the door interrupted the tense showdown; Panda opened it to reveal a delivery man, who was holding a package and fidgeting, probably out of fear, considering he was face to face with a giant, sentient panda.

“I have a package from an Okkotsu Yuta, addressed here?” he said. You slapped your forehead.

“Shit, I forgot about him! Thank you,” you said, accepting the box and then quickly calling Okkotsu.

“Hey, guys!” he said cheerily. His phone must have been set up against the wall of a building or something, because it showed him busy using his katana to exorcise curses and not even breaking a sweat, “Sorry, this isn’t a great time, but congratulations on getting together! I hope you like your present — hey! Stay away from the iPhone!” The screen abruptly went dark as a curse swiped at Okkotsu’s cell phone, knocking it down while the sorcerer snarled.

“Open the present!” Yuji said excitedly.

Inside of the box were two bright pink t-shirts. Both of them had white lettering on them — one said I’m Okkotsu Yuta’s Best Friend Foreverand the other said I’m Okkotsu Yuta’s Girlfriend-in-Law.

You all stared at them, expressions varying from amusement to delight to horror. You didn’t even question how Okkotsu had known that you and Inumaki would confess to each other. Clearly, he already thought you both were together, so it was really just divine timing in that sense.

Somewhere in Africa, Okkotsu finished exorcising the curses and sheathed his katana, casting aside his jacket to reveal a bright pink shirt that said on it in white lettering, I’m Okkotsu Yuta.

“Maybe they’ll let me third wheel,” he mused to himself, “I mean, they had better, considering how hard these shirts were to find at the thrift store.”

#inumaki x reader #toge x reader #inumaki x y/n #toge x y/n #inumaki x you #toge x you #inumaki #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #toge #reader insert #canon au #i leave you #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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vienssunshine · 7 months

Note

GUAAA you’re the best maki writer on this app istg /&;&;@/@/@-“&/ could you please write smth nsfw where the fem reader like gets jealous of yuuta cause she thinks something is going on between them?

She likes a boy but I'm not a boy

pairing: Maki Zenin x fem!reader sfw: love confession word count: 1.5k author's note: thanks for the ask! not smut but def jealousy! enjoy! description: it's hard to find out maki and yuta have a thing, maybe a conversation with her could clear some things up

“Last lap!” Yuji calls out, his breath labored despite being far ahead of anyone else circling the track. It’s been twenty minutes of this drill—sprinting until you can’t feel your legs anymore—and with the sun beating down on you, it’s utterly grueling.

You were psyched to have the earlier training sessions this week along with Nobara, Panda, and Yuji, because, though getting up before sunrise is a challenge in itself, it tends to be cooler in the morning. With summer approaching quickly, having the afternoon sessions like Maki, Yuta, Inumaki, and Megumi do is a near death sentence.

However, this morning is uncharacteristically hot. The sun has only been up for the past hour, but its rays are blinding and oppressive. With no shade offered by Jujutsu High’s training facilities, all one can do is suffer until practice is over.

You cross the line and stumble off the field, making your way to the bleachers to lean back on the metal that’s too warm to cool your overheating body.

“I thought that would never end,” Yuji sighs, draping the shirt he had taken off over his forehead and pouring water onto it.

You reach for your water bottle, taking in the cool liquid in clumsy swallows before saying, “I don’t think I’ll be able to get back up.”

“Same here,” Nobara says, lying like a starfish on the grass in front of you. She glances at her watch and groans, “Only thirteen more minutes ‘til we go again.”

Panda sits up, somehow full of energy—you suspect he’s been using gorilla mode to make the drill easier—and says, “That should be enough for some of my favorite kind of break-time talk!”

Yuuji pulls his t-shirt off of his face, “Is it–”

“Sexy talk!” Panda exclaims.

“Gross,” Nobara says, throwing her empty water bottle at him.

“Not gross,” Panda counters, deflecting the bottle. “A necessary bonding experience for those on a team. Haven’t you ever heard of locker room talk?”

“I think that’s different,” you say.

“Yeah,” Nobara agrees, glowering.

“I’ll start,” Panda says, “Yuji, who do you think would make the best couple in Jujutsu High?”

Yuji crosses his legs and strokes his chin. “Umm…I don’t know…”

Nobara eyes him. “Spit it out.”

“Thought you didn’t like this kind of talk?” you say.

Nobara folds her arms, “Doesn’t mean he should take forever to answer.”

“Come on, Yuji!” Panda says, clapping his paws together.

Yuji sits back on his hands, “Maybe…Yuta and Maki?”

You furrow your brow. That’s a strange pairing.

“Great choice!” Panda says, looking smug, “I would agree.”

“What? Totally wrong!” Nobara objects, offended by the idea, “Maki isn’t interested in anyone, she doesn’t have time to be in a relationship.”

This isn’t making any sense. You sit up so you can face them. “Are you guys being serious?”

“Uh, yeah,” Yuji says, puzzled, “I thought they were kind of a thing?”

“Definitely,” Panda says, “I’ve always known.”

You pull your legs into your chest and rest your chin on your knee. This is not what you expected, or understood to be what was going on.

You’ve known Maki for a while, and she’s always been very friendly to you, well, as friendly as Maki can be. But still, she pays you extra attention, noticing the little differences in your appearance—like if you changed your hair or wore a new outfit—and following it up with a compliment that feels strangely intimate. She tends to touch you a lot as well, opting to brush by you rather than go around, or have her hand graze your forearm as she laughs at one of your not-funny jokes. So you’ve been thinking that maybe, after all this time, she might see you how you see her. But this conversation is making you wonder if it’s all in your head.

“Well, I guess if it had to be someone,” Nobara concedes.

“Just admit it, they’re made for each other,” Panda says dreamily.

You huff. Yuta and Maki are definitely close, but made for each other? What makes him so great? Just because he’s a special grade doesn’t mean he’s equipped to handle someone like Maki—he always looks like he’s two seconds away from crying. If what they’re saying is true, if they’re actually together…you’re not sure what you’ll do, but just thinking about it is heating your blood.

The conversation devolves into discussing what everyone’s type is, but you tune it out, instead searching your memory for the signs of Yuta and Maki’s special connection. You're not sure how you could've missed it if it was so obvious to everyone else.

The rest of training is easier now that you’re pissed off. Your form is sloppier as you run around the track, feet hitting the ground in hard, careless pounds, but you’re going much faster than you were; there’s less of a gap between you and Yuji.

You’re still angry when you shower, change your clothes, put on shoes, and go to class for the rest of the day. It’s good that Yuta and Maki are in the afternoon sessions of training, you’re not sure you’d be able to stay composed with how you’re feeling right now.

The day cools as the sun goes down and, after trying and failing to talk your feelings out to one of your stuffed animals, you resort to finding a late night snack in hopes of soothing your inner turmoil.

Only, when you get to the communal kitchen, there’s a light on, and under it, sitting at the table, is Maki watching something on her phone.

She looks up when you walk in. “Hey,” she says, an interesting smirk on her face.

“Hey,” you respond, passing by and heading to the cabinet to grab some chips. You debate going back to your room—you’re not sure if hanging out with her tonight is a good idea—but the urge to stay wins, so you sit down in the chair next to her and open the bag.

Maki puts her phone down and rests her elbows on the table, clasping her fingers together and tilting her head as she says, “I heard you were talking about me today.”

Looking straight ahead, you say, “Did you?”, and put a chip in your mouth and chew. “Maybe you should tell Yuta about it.”

There’s that attitude you were worried about slipping out. You don’t want to give her a hard time, you’re just frustrated, because Yuta? Over you? Really? But then she laughs, and despite everything, it’s immensely gratifying.

“Yeah, you guys were saying we’re a thing or something,” Maki says, expression calming into a soft yet devious smile.

She’s baiting you, though you don’t know why. Her golden gaze is as heavy and intense as the sun this morning as she searches your face for any reaction. It’s peculiar behavior if she likes someone else—unless you’re misinterpreting again.

You’re as casual as can be when you ask, “Aren’t you guys a thing?”

Maki responds matter-of-factually, “Yeah, we are.”

You cough, nearly choking on your chip. That confirms it, confirms everything you were worried about. Maki likes someone else. A boy. Your mind spins, trying to make sense of the situation. Panda and Yuji had a better read on the situation than you? You had just imagined the tension with Maki? The one thing you can conclude is that you were totally wrong.

Maki hands you her glass of water, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you force out, taking a sip. “That’s great,” you say, “For you and Yuta.”

She laughs again. “Don’t ever become an actress.”

You break out into a stupid smile, “I’m serious.” Putting the chips down, you try to recover. Obviously this is terrible news, but you still have to be a good friend. “Really, that’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“Stop,” she says, waving her hand, “We aren’t really.”

“Uh…what?”

“We aren’t really a thing,” she says, her hand landing on your forearm like it always does. Only, this time, it stays there. “I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

She moves her thumb along your skin, and though her strokes are gentle, the sensation is electric. No doubt she’s noticed how your arm has lit up in goosebumps.

“Why?” you ask, your voice quieter than it was, anticipatory. You don't want to be wrong again.

She speaks slowly, her gaze holding steady. “Because, I don’t want to be a thing with Yuta”—her fingers give your arm a squeeze—“I want something with you.”

It doesn’t register at first, the words not sinking in, rather just sitting there, utterly impactful. Her amber eyes watch yours as you tell it to yourself again: Maki doesn’t want Yuta, she wants you.

Your friend, who for months you’ve longed for, dreamed of, desired, Maki, she likes you back.

There’s no room for air in your body, not with the surge of excitement pushing up through your chest. Everyone else—Panda, Yuji, Nobara—they didn't know what they were talking about. Maki wants you.

Your hand lands on hers without consulting your head first. Then you’re leaning forward, leaning closer to her, and you echo the sentiment, whispering you’ve much you’ve wanted this. She smiles before your lips meet; the kiss was mutually long-awaited.

And so, in the dimly lit kitchen, a secret romance was born. Would the others get it right this time?

#maki zenin x you #maki zenin x reader #maki zenin #maki zenin fluff #zenin maki #maki x you #maki x reader #maki

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tmblrcolouredpaper · 27 days

Text

Clothes with TXT

OT5 TXT; 5 scenarios member/ reader wc: 1178

🧸 Yeonjun

he'd get matching underwear with you.

In general he'd be a sucker for clever matching outfits, but nothing would beat wearing the same design of underwear during a night in together with you.

lounging around only in briefs, he'd melt seeing you appearing with the same minimal amount of fabric on your body.

when lying down with you, are close, thin fabric on thin fabric and the rest of touch being directly skin on skin, he wouldn't be able to avoid glancing down, seeing his sensitive parts matching yours with such conscious intention.

it's not just matching colors or minimalistic designs, he'd feel so much giddy joy seeing some cute designs facing each other, maybe beige underwear with cute little bears on them or silly ducks.

his favorite would logically be pandas.

when you're outside, wearing completely different genres of clothes, secretly only underwear matching, he'd feel so proud, smirking at the privat coordination of life, the intimate moment of getting ready together precious to him.

and when it's not a mutual decision, but a coincidence that he discovers when you find your way back to another at night, stripping down to take a shower, he'd throw himself at you with the happiest hug. He just loves finding familiarity in you.

shopping trips include getting matching underwear. To people's entertainment, you'd probably stand there arguing while holding up random pairs of panties. It doesn't matter what section you're in, men's clothes, women's clothes, who cares. You just want to find the cutest little piece of fabric to add to your collection.

🧸 Soobin

he's such a winter inspiration to me, so I think of scarfs, gloves, and any warm fuzzy clothes.

he'd wrap you up, put a huge scarf around your neck, carefully put gloves on your painfully freezing hands after he tries warming them with his breath.

at home, he'd have a large collection of fuzzy socks for you, cute designs and pinterest-y overknee pairs.

he'd put them on you, pulling them up slowly and once having your feet warm, he'd pull your legs into his lap caressing the soft fabric in such a manner that you could just fall asleep like that.

especially during stormy winter nights, he'd have you in only a shirt, underwear and overknee socks in his bed beside him. With one arm he'd hold you close and with his free hand, he'd have his palm run up and down your dressed leg to warm and calm you.

when he's in a playful mood, he'd tuck on the hem of your socks, pulling them up and down, tickling you oh so lightly until you get a bit annoyed at him, because it also means you'd be shifting more of your attention to him.

🧸 Beomgyu

matching accessories. Only both of you already wearing a cap when going out together, he'd find it so cool.

For fancy dinner dates, he'd enjoy matching belts or both of you wearing a tie.

It doesn't have to be cute or a huge sign of connection, he'd just enjoy feeling good in his clothes and having you match his energy. It gives him an ego boost, assures him of himself and his taste, that he is someone who can be seen as orientation and some sort of role model.

Having you maybe exploring your style with his in mind, would make him grow more curious of his own possibilities, too.

It's just fun for him.

In a more domestic realm, he'd love seeing you wearing matching slippers. You'd just buy a 2 for 1 set. It's practical and lets him feel like he's truly living life together with you.

On more serious occasions he'd aim for jewelry, bracelets or necklaces with matching charms, little engravings, such as each one half of a sentence.

On dates he'd love handcrafting colorful pieces with you, bold pearls and cotton candy coloured strings braided into memories of carefree moments with you. They're his lucky charms and he feels even luckier when he sees you wearing them with the same enthusiasm.

🧸 Taehyun

simple, yet impactful having-you-wear-his-shirt-type-of-guy

whether it's at home or outside, he loves seeing how you make his clothes look like.

he lets you pick shirts for him, having in mind that you would wear them, too.

sometimes you like to mess with him, suggesting shirts you know he wouldn’t like, silly ones, immensely cute ones or extravagant shirts with attached bows. He’d sigh, shake his head, but go back to the store by himself from time to time to get the shirt, having you find it in his closet.

he’d go full out when you ask him to give you a private fashion show, throwing all his silly poses into the room, gifting the pieces of fabric a whiff of his energy that makes you giggle whenever you wear the shirts.

when it’s about his personal favorite shirts he’s be a bit reluctant at first, but when he sees you treating them with such care, not eating in them to keep them stain free, wearing them truly when you need to be just a bit closer to him, making the feeling of having company in life more present, he’d gently help you get dressed in his clothes.

he’d have his hands linger on you, smoothing out the fabric on your body, automatically caressing in a calming manner.

all of it is just something that would happen alongside daily happenings. It’s nothing deeply thought through, but casual joyful endearments between you.

🧸 Kai

would throw his hoodie at you.

his main intention not being that it's cute, but that it's simply practical.

Why would you buy hoodies and such, when he could open his own store with the amount of pieces he has?

however, once you start returning them to him, one by one, with your scent on them, he'd start melting, adoring the routine he carelessly introduced.

giggly, kicking his feet, falling asleep in them, wearing them in situations that stress him out, make him feel anxious, he'd start relying on shared clothes.

some hoodies become destined to be your clothes of sadness, catching his and your silent tears. Whenever he finds a wettened hoodie you were currently wearing discarded on your bed, he'd search for you to hold you.

when he silently drowns his sadness in the mixture of his hoodie and your scent, you'd know when he throws it into the washing machine.

hoodies become a way of communicating hard feelings with another.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡ 🧸⋆୨☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★୧⋆ ˚｡ 🧸⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★୧⋆ ˚｡ 🧸⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆🧸If you enjoyed reading this, you might also like:

🧸Sleepy Scenarios with TXT

🧸You Are Changing with TXT

🧸When TXT is making you comfortable

🧸When TXT is having a secret crush on you (sleepy scenarios)

🧸Holding Hands with TXT

#tomorrow x together fluff #tomorrow x together #txt fluff #txt sfw #txt imagines #txt scenarios #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fluff #choi soobin fluff #soobin x reader #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #taehyun fluff #taehyun x reader #huening kai x reader #huening Kai fluff

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livingalifeonfire · 4 months

Text

Spa Night with Buck

The week had dragged on for what felt like forever. Buck had been pulling 24 hour shifts every other day and I had been pulling back-to-back shifts at the call center with Maddie to help her out before she left for maternity leave. With the amount or lack thereof of time Buck and I had to spend with each other, I came up with an idea that would not only allow us to spend some quality time together but give us a space to relax.

I put my whole secret plan into motion with Maddie's help and by the time we finished setting up everything, bucks loft looked cozy, inviting and smelled less of a bachelor pad. An array of sheet masks on the coffee table alongside two cups of tea, massage balls and oil and a little something to take care of buck's lip. Buck arrived home and I see the lock turn and his familiar scent of vanilla and smoke wafts into the room. " Babe, I'm home!" I hear him call out as I run to him and jump into his arms, basically knocking him over. " Well, this is a welcome sight, my gorgeous girlfriend in my shirt and my sweats. My love, what do you have up your sleeve and why does my apartment look a little more put together?" he asks, his hands rubbing my back as he puts me back onto the floor. A mischievous grin paints its way across my face as I take his hand and lead him to his couch.

" Well, my love, you've been working so hard lately and not had any time to take for yourself or just to destress so I, with the help of your amazing sister, planned a little at home spa night for us. Plus, it will give us a little time to just relax and be together. " I tell him as I push him into the couch. " Baby, no one has ever done something so nice for me before. Thank you, so much sweet girl" he says, as he pulls me onto his lap and into a sweet kiss. I spin around and grab the sheet masks off the coffee table and slyly ask him which one he wants, and of course he picks the one that looks like a panda. I tear open the package and help him get it onto his face. Mine goes on afterward and then, the shirt comes off. " Buck, do not take this the wrong way but I need you to take your shirt off and lay on your stomach with your head up." He cocks his head, looks at me but doesn't question my request. Within seconds, his LAFD t-shirt hits the floor, and he is lying flat on his stomach. I grab the oil and massage ball and start to attempt to work out the knots in my boyfriend's back and shoulders. This elicits a few groans from buck, and I feel the stress start to melt away. I know how much he needed a night to relax and be pampered a little bit.

After the sheet masks come off and the massage oil rinsed off his back, he gets this look in his eyes I know all too well. He picks me up and carries me to his bathroom. And well, let's just say we both got a little more stress relief that night.

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley fluff #evan buckley smut #oliver stark #evan buckley

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qtkarma · 1 year

Text

the thin line between hate and love

Yuuji Itadori isn’t familiar with the feelings of hatred and love ( and lust ) and can’t help getting them mixed up.

tw ; masturbation, underwear stealing, f!reader

a/n yuuji’s a tad of a perv in this. whoops.

Yuuji Itadori hated you.

Hate was an emotion the teenage boy wasn’t familiar with ; I mean, you could ask anyone and they would only describe him as the worlds most happy-go lucky kind of human, physically incapable of hating someone.

But yet, the moment you entered Jujutsu Tech, that foreign feeling creeped into his mind, grabbing him by the snares.

When he had confessed to Nobara and Megumi about this new-found emotion, they quirked a brow before sharing a look.

“You don’t hate her.” Nobara turned back towards him, a smug look on her face. Megumi simply kept sipping on his chocolate milkshake, leaning back into the diners red booth.

Yuuji gave her a baffled look. He absolutely hated you ; hated when you opened your oh-so kissable mouth to make a well timed witty remark with your silky smooth voice.

He hated the way you fought ; ruthlessly, with a hint of strategy. How you could set your mind to something and make sure it happened.

He hated the way you called him when you were at the store, asking if he needed anything.

He hated the way you got along with everyone. The moment you had joined the handful of students studying jujutsu you had fit in like a missing puzzle piece, completing their friend group.

He hated how you took care of those around you. The one morning he awoke to find you in the Jujutsu Tech’s kitchen, open windows letting in the coo of morning doves, the sunrise illuminating your figure, clad in a oversized graphic tee. Your back was turned to him, and you were clearly making breakfast for the tenants of the dorms. He hated the smile you gave him when you noticed him.

“That’s my shirt.” Was all he said, his lip curled in a small snarl. He hated the way you looked good in it.

“It is? Shit, m’ sorry. I must’ve mistook it for my own when I did laundry earlier.” Wiping your hands on a spare hand towel, you began to fix a plate. “I’ll go change in a moment. Keep an eye on the eggs for me? Toge mentioned wanting sunny side up eggs, and I really don’t want them to burn…”

And then, you say a plate full of Yuuji’s favourite breakfast foods right in front of him. Turning, you grabbed a napkin and utensils, setting them next to the piping hot food.

“Sit, eat. I’ll go change and wake up everyone else before everything gets cold. Your laundry is in the laundry room, to. I saw everyone’s clothes were piling up and figured I could help out.”

Yuuji stared at the food for what felt like forever. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he pulled out the old wooden chair and began to eat. Holy shit. This is good.

“You can keep it on.” The words flew out of his mouth before he even processed them. “Go wake everyone up. And, uh, thanks for the food and laundry.” Yuuji stuffed another bite of pancake in his mouth, determined to not say anything else he was going to regret.

“Thanks. Eat as much as you want, to. I’ll make more if I need to. I already know Panda will scarf half of it down.” A small smile painted your face and you left the room.

“Yuuji?” Nobara questioned, waving a wilty french fry of the pink haired boys face.

“I hate her. I know it.” Yuuji slapped Nobara’s hand from his face. “I can’t stand her, actually.”

Nobara let out a sigh, dipping the fry into Megumi’s chocolate shake. He threw her a nasty look before speaking.

“There’s a thin line between hate and love, y’know that? I think your mixing up your emotions.” Nobara nodded in agreement, mouth full of fry’s and chocolate shake.

Yuuji opened his mouth to argue, but… he couldn’t. Nothing came to his mind. Did he really hate you? I mean… of course he did. The past year of you being at Jujutsu Tech has been hell for him. He couldn’t go anywhere without you being there, or being mentioned. He couldn’t stand it.

“See? You don’t hate her,” Nobara leaned forward, a devilish grin on her face. “Maybe you even love her! I mean, I would to, she’s amazing, and got the looks and a hot bod.”

No. He definitely hated you.

He hated the way you stretched before fighting ; leaning over to flash him a glimpse of your cleavage in your stupid modified uniform. He hated the way you wore tight dresses during parties, skimpily sliding up your thighs with every move. He hated the way he had lost a bet, forced to do everyone’s laundry and found a few thongs in your basket of dirty laundry. ( He hated the way he pocketed one of them. )

He hated the way the thought of you could have him doubled over in the shower, one arm holding him up and the other wrapped around his painfully hard cock, wishing it was you.

And he absolutely hated that at one of Maki’s stupid parties that she had suggested spin the bottle, and how you all sat in a circle, Yuuji directly across from you. He hated watching you share a kiss with Yuuta, the way the sorcerer blushed and cupped your face. He hated the way the boy excused himself immediately after, sporting an obvious boner.

He hated that neither his or your spins landed on each other before the game finally dispersed.

Nobara’s loud laugh drew him from his thinking. Her head thrown back, hands clutching her stomach. Megumi even was laughing.

“You don’t hate her! My god, you are in love with her! Aww, our little baby Yuuji is all grown up and in love! Are you gonna ask her out? Take her on a cute little date-“ Yuuji covered his ears with his hands, sinking into the diner booth.

Shit.

Maybe Yuuji didn’t hate you.

#itadori smut #yuji itadori #yuji itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #itadori yuji x reader

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mermaidxatxheart · 2 months

Text

A Day at the Fair

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word count: 6665

Summary: the DEA are about to make a drug bust at the county fair and Javi gets distracted

A/N: thanks to @musings-of-a-rose for listening to me about all my nonsense lol

The crowd around them is loud, but Javier Peña can tune out crowds with the best of them. With a family the size of his, that loves to stick their noses where they don’t belong, he’d have to be.

His partner, however, always gets itchy in crowds. Steve Murphy isn’t a people kind of person. Or… maybe he is as long as they’re not cops. Who the fuck knows? Javi throws another dart onto the rotating dart boards. Bullseye number two.

Murphy scoffs, stuffing a nacho chip in his mouth. “How can you do that?” He asks, turning away from the booth to scan the crowd.

Their target hasn’t arrived yet and Javi is bored with a capital B. He didn’t want to do this drugs bust here at the fair, but Upper Management overruled him. Shocker. He throws another dart, almost not even paying attention and it lands on a bullseye once more.

“Patience, skill, it’s all in the wrist.” Peña shrugs.

“Whatever. I thought you didn’t like the fair.” Murphy mumbles.

“Entirely not true.” Javier says, watching a pretty girl walk by. “I just didn’t want to take down a drug dealer in front of little kids. I’ve got standards, man.” He grins, throwing the fourth dart without even looking.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve rolls his eyes with a sardonic chuckle. Bullseye number four.

“Do you want a go? We’ve got time for you to practice.” Javi teases, offering him the last dart. The booth is just a small square tent with open views on all sides so crowds can gather all around. Cheap stuffed animals are hanging from the ceiling, and Peña has his eye on a stuffed panda for his niece. In the center is a large disc that rotates around in a circle with five dart boards lying flat. If you can get all five darts in the center of any of the boards, you get a prize.

“Oh, fuck off.” Murphy mutters. “It can’t be that hard.” He takes the last dart and studies the rotating board intently.

Peña checks his watch, mostly just to mess with him. “Come on, pendejo, it’s not brain surgery.”

Murphy ignores him, as is usual, and takes his time before finally throwing it. It bounces off the metal rim and falls to the ground.

“Shut up.” He warns instantly, and Javi artfully disguises his shit-eating grin.

He pulls another five bucks from his wallet and hands it to the guy running the booth. Luckily for the two DEA agents, or maybe more for the guy running the booth, this spot has the best vantage point to keep an eye on the area of suspicion. They’ve been stuck in this area for thirty minutes at least.

“How are you not sweating, man? This heat is the worst.” Murphy says, shaking out his shirt.

“You lived in Colombia for how long? And after living in Texas-Florida heat is nothing.” He shrugs, throwing the first dart.

“Whatever, you freak. I’m gonna hit the head.” Steve tosses his nachos and wanders away.

Javi is mostly wasting time with the darts. But someone steps next to him and he’s glad Steve walked away. He throws the last dart and gets his bullseye as the pretty girl next to him watches, impressed. He gestures to the panda as his prize and you lean against the railing next to him.

“Interesting choice. I would have assumed the shark.” You say, the teasing smile evident in your voice.

Javi looks from the panda to you and back, examining it. “You think so?”

“Oh, absolutely.” You nod matter of factly.

“And why is that?” He asks, leaning next to you, keeping one eye on the area, but you have most of his attention.

“Sharks are mostly harmless until provoked. You seem like you could be dangerous, but most of the time it’s just not worth your effort.” You say.

He chuckles with a self-effacing nod. “Maybe.” He watches you tuck your hair behind your ear before you smile back up at him.

“What’s your name?” You ask.

“Javier.” He answers. “You?”

You tell him your name and he can’t help but think that it’s one of the prettiest names he’s ever heard.

“Can I ask, Javier, you don’t really strike me as the fair-goer-type. Are you having fun?” You ask.

“Why does everyone think I don’t like fairs?” He asks exasperatedly.

“Well, you did bring a gun.” You whisper, gesturing to the bump on his hip that’s his gun, covered only by his favorite Hawaiian shirt.

He starts at that. “How did you-“

You grin. “My ex-fiancé was a cop. Or, still is, I suppose.”

“Is him being a cop the reason he’s an ex?” He asks.

“No. It was the cheating, the lying, the secret family.” You tick off on your fingers like adding ‘secret family’ to the end of that sentence isn’t the most wild thing to reveal to a stranger. “I was fully ready to be married to a cop. But apparently so was his wife.” You shrug. “My dad, my uncles, my grandpa-all cops. So, lucky for you, I know not all cops are cheating dirtbags, and if I happen to meet a handsome cop at the fair and he were to buy me food or win me a prize, I wouldn’t say no.” You say and all he can do is stare as it dawns on him that you’ve actually been flirting with him this whole time. He used to be better at this.

“Peña.” His earbug crackles and it makes him jump.

“Peña, here.” He responds, never taking his eyes off your pretty face.

“Get your fucking ass ready, man. Target’s here.” Murphy says exasperatedly.

“Shit.” Javi curses.

“Duty calls?” You guess and he’s never been more annoyed at his job than now.

“Unfortunately.” He glances down at the panda in his hand. “Will you hold onto this?” He asks and you nod, taking it in your arms. “I’ll be right back.” He promises quickly before taking off.

That was stupid. He shouldn’t have promised you that.

***

You watch the most handsome man you’ve ever met jog across the green and vault himself over a low brick wall.

“Hmm.” You cross your arms over your chest, trapping the stuffed panda there for safe keeping. “Javier Peña.” You muse, walking towards the funnel cake stand nearby. You hope he does come back.

The panda intrigues you, as does the impeccable ability to throw darts at a moving target and never miss.

“I think I’ll call you Amanda, Amanda the Panda.” You tell it. “You look like you want some funnel cake while we wait.” And that’s exactly what you do. There’s a picnic bench nearby and you wait there until Javier isn’t busy anymore.

Whomever he’s arresting, they have a lot of stuff going on because it’s taking forever. You eat a funnel cake, a gyro, and some amazing brisket queso fries.

You snag a napkin not stained with grease and write your address on it. You see him hop back over the wall, heading for you and you smile to yourself.

“Sorry that took so long.” He huffs, running a hand roughly through his dark locks.

“No worries.” You smile at him. “Everything work out alright?” You ask.

“Better than we hoped.” His eyes drop to the stuffed panda tuwcked safely in your arms. “I can take that back.” He starts, reaching for it, but you twist slightly out of his grasp.

“Actually,” you hesitate and he frowns. “Amanda and I have bonded. And we’ve decided that-“

“I’m sorry, who’s Amanda?” He squints.

“Amanda the Panda. And we’ve decided to split custody. So, you can take her back tomorrow night, when you pick us up for dinner.” You tell the poor, shocked cop, handing him the napkin with your address on it.

He takes the napkin dumbly and clears his throat, a smile starting to tug at his pretty lips. “How does seven sound?”

“Like a date.” You reply, taking a step back. “See you tomorrow.”

He waves with a half salute and you disappear from his line of sight into the crowd.

Javi

“You’re really going?” Murphy asks in surprise.

“She’s holding my panda hostage.” Javi shrugs. The whole idea is absurd. But you were really fucking cute, extorting a date out of him.

Steve laughs. “I thought DEA agents don’t negotiate. What did she name the thing again?”

“Amanda the Panda. And who’s negotiating?” Peña grins, tucking his aviators on and heading out of the office’s front doors.

“Good luck with your hostage situation!” Murphy calls after him. Javier departs with a middle finger tossed behind him.

Nervously, ridiculously afraid to do the wrong thing, he buys you flowers. Not roses, that’s… a lot to get back a panda. But daisies? Absolutely.

He pulls up in front of your house and he can tell you’ve put a lot of work into it. The gardens are beautiful and in full bloom, filled with bushes and trees of a deep emerald green, flowers that are bright reds, soft coral pinks, and deep purples. Your house is a quaint one story cottage painted a pastel pink with a white trim.

He gets out of his little truck and walks up to the front door, a soft brown wood, the white paint worn down with age and sand blasting probably. A wreath made of bleached coral and seashells hangs on the door.

If this isn’t the most Florida home he’s ever seen.

He knocks solidly and it’s only a second or two before the door swings open and he’s momentarily speechless. Your hair is styled into soft curls, tempting him to reach out and touch them, run his fingers through them and make them a mess. Your lips are the softest, most delicate shade of pink. You’re wearing a sundress that is so tempting, he almost has to walk away. Thin white straps, bright red cherries with bright green stems. A gathered sweetheart neckline that shows off your heavenly curves perfectly almost has him wishing the weather was just a little bit cooler. But you’d probably find a way to torment him then, too. He can’t even force himself to look down your perfect body to see what kind of shoes you chose to destroy him with. He glances anyway. Simple white platform pumps.

Christ, he’s in trouble.

“I have to admit, I’m not sure I really expected you to show.” You tell him, drawing his attention back to your face.

“You look amazing.” He manages, handing over the flowers.

“Oh, thank you. These are beautiful.” You take them, stepping back and letting him into your home.

He’s not quite sure what he was expecting; maybe a lot of pink to match the outside, looking for all the world like an overstuffed cafe. But it’s actually quite comfortable. Soft colors: sky blue, blush pink-nothing in your face bright. The furniture is cozy without being an explosion of stuffing. It looks like a comfy beach cottage.

“I like your house.” He manages again as you set the flowers in a pretty vase on the coffee table.

“Thank you. I wanted something that reminds me of a day at the beach.” You smile at him and he loses his train of thought again. You select a soft white cardigan off the hooks by the door. “Ready to go? I’m excited to see what you have planned.” You say and he scratches at the back of his head.

“Ready.” He opens the don’t door for you and closes it behind him, waiting patiently while you lock it. “So, you enjoy being at the beach?” He asks, leading you to his little pickup truck.

“Yeah. I can’t imagine living in Florida and hating it.” You look at him curiously. “Do you hate the beach, Javi?” You ask as he opens the door for you, almost as if a yes would devastate you.

He closes it and walks around, climbing in. “No. It’s hard to chase someone in the sand, but I like the view.” He says, turning over the engine. Your perfume fills the space, swirls around him and he finds himself taking extra long breaths just to smell it longer. It’s floral, soft. Beautiful.

“Do your suspects run on the beach a lot?” You ask and he chuckles.

“No, thank god.”

“That’s good. The beach should be for fun things.” You say definitively.

“Like what?” He prompts. He could listen to you tell him things all day long. Doesn’t matter if it’s shit he already knows. Tell him again.

“Tanning, seashell collecting, skinny dipping, watching the waves and storms roll in, kissing in the rain.” You shrug. “The usual.”

He nearly swerves as you mention skinny dipping. You just might kill him. “I like your thinking.” He manages and you laugh.

“You’re adorable when you blush.” You say, half turning to face him in your seat.

“I don’t blush.” He protests.

You reach out softly and brush his cheek. “Right here. Just the cutest.” You tease and his stomach is a mess with butterflies. He captures your hand and kisses the back of it before setting it on the middle seat. But you don’t let go, instead, scooting closer, linking your arm around his and resting your cheek against his shoulder.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“I was thinking Cuban food?”

“Oh my god, yes.” You agree enthusiastically, and he’s happy you’re so into it.

He parks outside the little restaurant and gets out, with you following him out of his door. You reclaim his hand, following him inside.

***

Javier is adorable, blushing at any little innuendo you make. You don’t think he’s innocent, just not used to being on the receiving end.

The restaurant is exactly what you would expect from a Cuban eatery. Full of life, culture, loud music, and amazing smelling food. There are couples dancing out on the cobblestone patio out back that you can spot as you’re led to a booth.

You slide all the way in, leaving space for Javi next to you if he wants, and you hope he does. He slides in next to you, arm draping comfortably on the back of the booth. The waiter sets menus in front of you and walks away to give you time to look.

You shift against Javi slightly, getting comfortable against the side of his chest, hoping that he doesn’t mind you getting so personal so fast.

“Have you been here before?” You ask.

“A couple times. The food is really good.” He says, opening one of the menus. “I like the Milanesa de pollo with white rice and black beans. Or the masitas de puerco.” He says, pointing them out on the menu.

“I get one, you get the other?” You offer and he chuckles.

“Works for me.” He agrees, flipping to the cocktails.

You’re watching him as he reads them off to you. He’s beautiful. You saw it yesterday while he was casually dominating the carnival game. But today? He looks less stressed, even if you do make him flustered.

He seems to realize you’re not really listening to him and he cuts off short, looking at you, confused. “Are you alright?” He asks and you can’t help but smile softly.

“Yeah, I’m perfect.”

The waiter comes back over and you let Javi order for you, his Spanish being far superior to yours.

“So, whole family of cops, engaged to one, looking to date another.” He starts and you’re already grinning. “Are you a cop?” He asks and you laugh.

“No. I’ve broken tradition. I was going to be a teacher, but hated it. So, now I’m a writer. I get to make my own schedule, my own office. My commute is from my bedroom to my living room.” You say and he laughs. It’s deep and a little rough.

“That sounds perfect, to be honest. Have I read anything of yours? I didn’t recognize the name.”

“Probably not. I write under a false name. I do a bit of everything-mystery, horror, romance. Whatever strikes me.” You shrug. “You also don’t seem like the type to have a ton of time to read.”

“Guilty, but maybe I’ll start.” He winks.

You clear your throat, fighting a sudden and overwhelming urge to kiss this man. He’s holding you, smelling oh-so-good, and taking an interest? Christ, you just might marry him.

“So, you know about my awkward ex. Anyone lurking in your past?” You ask.

“Oh, you know, just an almost wife.” He says so casually as he sips his drink that it’s almost payback for you doing it to him.

“Almost wife?” You press, eyebrows lifting high.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat gruffly, crunching an ice cube. “Her name was Lorraine. And she was amazing, and I left her the night before the wedding.” He says. He’s not proud of it-you can tell. But he told you, which says something to you, giving you a sense of warmth? Pride? Honor?

“Why?” You ask softly.

“It’s complicated, but the long and tall of it is that she lied about being pregnant to get me to marry her. Told me the night before the wedding that it was all fake. I couldn’t get past it.” He scratches at his chin.

“I don’t blame you.” You say, taking his hand over your shoulder. “I’ll tell you what, though.” You start, looking up at him.

“What’s that?”

“Their losses are our gains.” You say brightly and he presses a chuckling kiss to your temple, setting off a swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, sweetheart.”

Your food is served and not once while you’re eating does the conversation falter. You find out he’s a DEA agent. He’s recently moved back from Colombia where he was stationed. His family all lives in Texas but he only feels a little guilty for not getting back to see them often enough. But his ex is still there and that makes it awkward.

You push your empty plate away, satisfied. “Shit, that was delicious.” You sigh, patting your stomach. His eyes follow the motion and it’s hard to tell in the dim lighting, but you’re pretty sure his pupils got bigger.

“How are you at dancing?” You ask, tipping your head back to look up at him.

“I can hold my own. Would you like to dance?” He asks.

“I would love to.”

He drops cash on the table and leads you out under the string lights and pulls you close. The song switches to something slower. You don’t recognize it, but apparently Javi does. His cheek is resting against yours, holding your hand against the center of his broad chest as he dances the both of you across the semi-crowded floor. He’s humming along and you can’t help but close your eyes, leaning against him, completely at ease. You could very easily spend your days like this, dancing with him in your kitchen after dinner, glass of wine in your hand, this beautiful man in your arms.

The song ends and he pulls back from you, looking almost as reluctant as you are. “We have to go, cariño. I have more planned for us.” He says and you perk up.

“You do?”

“Of course. I need to make a good impression if I ever want my panda back.” He teases.

You grin. “Fair enough, Mr. Peña. Lead the way.” You tell him and he takes your hand, leading you out into the humid air. It’s starting to get dark and you wonder what he could possibly have planned.

He opens his door and you climb back in, sliding across the bench seat to make space for him. He climbs in next to you and gives you a smile before he starts his little truck.

You shift against him, getting comfortable once more. His big arm is around you and it doesn’t really matter to you where he’s taking you.

“Are you always this forward?” He asks, getting back on the road.

“I see no point in lying or hiding what I want.” You shrug. “I like you, I think you’re beautiful. Why would I hide that I want you?”

He gives a strangled sort of chuckle. “Jesus.” He tugs you close, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I like the way you think, princesa.”

“Good.”

“It doesn’t bother you that I’m older?” He asks.

“Not at all. Men my age just want another mommy. Men like you aren’t looking for that, you’re more experienced, and you’re not looking to play games with my head. Either you want me, or you don’t.”

“Oh, trust me, Angelita, I want you. I can’t imagine anyone not wanting you.” He says, pulling into a drive and you recognize the drive-in theater. He buys two tickets and you smile to yourself.

Movies under the stars with Javier? What could be more perfect?

He backs his truck into a space and you look at him, confused. “How are we going to watch it backwards?”

“Come on.” He opens his door and helps you down. You wobble in the grass on your heels and he grins down at you. “God, you’re cute.” He climbs up into the truck bed and pulls out blankets and pillows.

You stare at him, surprised and amazed. Whatever you had expected from tonight, this wasn’t it. You watch him move around to make the truck bed comfortable and cozy for you. You might have to kiss him. You smile to yourself as he hops back out.

“Ready?” He asks, holding out his big hand to you.

“More than ever.” You accept and he leads you to the back.

“Want popcorn?” He asks. You nod enthusiastically and he chuckles. “Ok, doll face. I’ll be right back.” He jogs away to the concession stand a couple rows away and you slide up onto the tailgate while you wait for him. He comes back fairly quickly despite how busy the drive-in is. He sets popcorn and two sodas next to you and goes to move the speakers, setting them on the ledges of the truck bed. He comes back around and looks at you, almost waiting.

“It’s perfect, Javier.” You reach forward, hooking a finger around the top buttoned button of his shirt and pull him closer between your thighs. You press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for making tonight so wonderful.” You say softly and his eyes dip closed.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He steps back for you to get comfortable and you cross your legs, removing your heels. You set them out of the way just inside the edge of the truck bed. He lets out a soft little noise and you glance at him curiously.

“Hermosa, you’re killing me.” He sighs, sliding up next to you and taking off his dusty boots. It’s almost weird to you how watching him take off his shoes feels like something intimate. You get the feeling that he doesn’t allow himself to be comfortable around many people.

He sets his boots next to your heels and shifts himself to the back against the pillows with the popcorn and your drinks.

“Coming?” He arches an eyebrow and pats the spot next to him. Yeah, you’re gonna kiss this man until your lips fall off.

You roll and turn to crawl to him on your hands and knees until you can twist and sit next to him.

“Shit.” You hear him curse quietly and you smile innocently to yourself. Glad to know you’re having just as much of an effect on him as he is on you. You shift against him comfortably as his big arm slips around your shoulders, holding you against him. He settles the popcorn between your thigh and his where you can easily reach it. You take a piece, popping it into your mouth. His thumb is brushing soft, slow strokes against the front or your arm next to him, his own like a bar across your chest.

“Do you miss Colombia?” You ask.

“Not particularly. I was down there for my job. I’m certainly not minding being back in the states right now.” He grins down at you.

You smile back, bringing his hand to your mouth, gently kissing his palm. The smell of him is surrounding you, encasing you in everything that is Javier Peña and you never want to leave.

His hand gently cups your throat, sliding up under your chin to tilt your head back for him. He presses those soft lips to your forehead and you close your eyes, crossing your legs tightly. This man is a menace that you will gladly invite into your bed. He shifts, another kiss to your temple, your cheek, his thumb stroking your jaw.

Fuck, you’re fucking wet.

The movie starts and he lets you go, turning his attention to the screen.

Rude.

***

He has you desperately trying to hide your peals of laughter as you fight for a piece of popcorn. Every time you reach for a piece, he’s tickling your sides, or taking your hand and eating the piece out of your fingers. His soft lips trap your fingertips in his mouth, his tongue brushing against the pads, licking them free of any salt or butter. His other hand tickling your side to distract you.

It’s when he nips your fingertips that you freeze, fingers still in his mouth. That turned you on more than it was probably supposed to. He releases your fingers and you don’t immediately pull away; instead, letting your thumb brush cross his soft-as-sin lower lip.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you have to inhale extra and your lungs hurt. In that split second, your lips part, his gaze drops to your mouth and then you’re kissing. You don’t know who moved, maybe you both did.

His mouth on yours is like a flame, searing the air from your lungs. He licks at your bottom lip, parting you further, hands gripping at your back, and waist as you thread your fingers through his soft curls. You turn, swinging one leg over his big thighs. His hands grip your thighs, ruching up your dress as they slide up your body to your back and hair, holding you against his chest.

You rock your hips, trying anything to get closer to him, fingers deep in his soft locks. A little tug as you rock and you’re rewarded with the softest moan against your open mouth. His fingers press into your back, crumpling your dress in his possessive grip.

He breaks away from your mouth, kissing down your jaw, your throat, your shoulders as he slides the straps off.

“Hermosa, mierda.” He groans against your skin. “Por favor, can I touch you?” He whispers, and you nod, lost in the feel of him growing hard under you.

He kisses you fiercely, hand sliding under the hem of your summer dress. Soft fingertips skimming up your bare thighs as you nip at his lip, returning the kiss just as eagerly.

He pulls your panties to the side, burying his face against your bare shoulder. He groans as his pads swipe through your drenched folds, teasing your clit with little nudges.

“Cariño, all for me?” He teases. “You’ve been tempting me all night with this pretty dress.” He tells you in a whisper, rubbing tight slow circles around your sensitive little nub. He gives it a few minutes, drawing out your pleasure as it coils low and hot in your belly. You’re cupping his face, kissing him in between ragged breaths and soft moans, pleas for more. He slides his thick fingers down away from your clit towards your entrance, probing you and driving you crazy. He kisses along your neck, licking and sucking a very deliberate mark onto your skin. He nips at it, soothing it with his tongue and sucking before starting again as his fingers coat themselves in your slick before he pushes two inside your warm, velvety tunnel. He moans quietly against your chest. The stretch from his fingers alone is enough for you. You can’t imagine any other part of him yet. His thumb takes up tormenting your sensitive clit as his fingers stroke along your frontal walls easily.

“J-Javi,” your voice breaks as you try to be quiet. But all you can think about is him. The way he smells, and the way he’s clinging to you, the way his mustache scrapes against your skin, the way his tongue licks against you.

“Sh, sh, hermosa.” He coos, nibbling at your earlobe. “Gotta be a good girl for me. Gotta be quiet so all these people don’t know what a naughty girl you are, letting a cop touch this pretty pussy in public.” He says, his voice low and husky in your ear, only serving to make you wetter. You’re grinding against his hand, gasping against his cheek, clinging to him. His other arm is around you, holding you tight against him as he fingers you. “Good girl, baby. So tight, taking my fingers so good.” He praises and you’re melting against him. You lift up, body starting to tense as you try to escape the oncoming orgasm.

He catches the neckline of your dress with his teeth and pulls it down, exposing your breasts to him as you tremble, cumming on his fingers with a whine. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. You can give me more.” He encourages, latching onto a nipple and giving it the same treatment he gave your neck. Pleasure shoots straight to your cunt where he stokes it against your g-spot.

“J-Javi,” you gasp and he bites gently on your nipple in response. You shudder, grinding harder on his hand beneath your dress.

“Love the way you moan my name, princesa.” He fingers you diligently, never slowing down, his eyes always on you. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, you cumming on my fingers. Wanna keep you like this.” He moans. You push down, grinding half against his hand and half against his crotch. He’s hard and aching, you can feel him twitch under you every time you moan in his ear.

You kiss him desperately, tugging at his hair as he steadily works you higher and higher until you snap for the second time. It occurs to you, somewhere in your orgasm-muddled- brain, that he has his fingers inside you out in public where anyone walking by can see. Your tit is out on display, granted it’s crushed against his broad chest, but still.

He licks a hot stripe up the center of your chest, along your throat, to your mouth, kissing you messily. “You’re dripping down my hand, hermosa. Got you so wet.” His own deep voice cracks as you whimper against his neck. “Want you to cum again. Want you to soak my hand, baby. Drench me and give me everything you have.” He urges, fingers picking up pace inside you and on your clit. His arm is wrapped tightly around you, holding you where he wants you. He sucks on your neck again, biting your skin and fingering you furiously.

Your soul leaves your body as you convulse and orgasm on his fingers. He holds you against his lap, making you take the pleasure he’s giving you. Not letting you escape from it like you normally would. He doesn’t stop. You wonder if his fingers are tired, but he doesn’t stop, chasing orgasm number four from your body. Your inner walls are clenching around his fingers, riding them with an unknown desperation as he marks up your skin with his perfect mouth. Small whimpers are leaving your body as he drags you higher and higher and higher and higher until your body snaps and you go slack, arching back away from him as you tremble with your most powerful orgasm yet.

He lays you back on the blanket carefully, adjusting your legs to be more comfortable. He pulls his sopping wet hand out from under your dress, holding it up for you to see it glistening in the moonlight. “So fucking pretty.” He praises. “Fuck, I could watch you cum all day long.” He says, licking his fingers and giving a small moan. “You’re fucking delicious. Sweetest pussy on earth.” He says, sucking his fingers clean as you watch him through half lidded eyes. He leans over you, kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Combined with his taste, you wrap your arms around his neck to keep him there.

He indulges for just a few minutes but then shifts himself between your thighs. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk around with your cum dripping down your thighs for the rest of the night?” He chuckles, lifting your dress.

“Should be your cum dripping out of me.” You say and he grins.

“That’s for next time.” He promises, and then his tongue is on you and you forget how to exist. His hand is over your exposed tit as he buries his head in your pussy. If you thought his fingers had you seeing stars? That’s nothing to the way his tongue brushes against every inch of you. He pushes it deep inside you, slurping at you, swirling around your already quivering clit. It traces every inch of your flower, searching for the nectar you release until he makes you cum two more times and then he declares you’re decent.

You are, in fact, not decent. You should like to show him right here right now how indecent you would like to be with him, but you currently can’t move. He fingered the bones right out of your body. He adjusts your dress, covering you back up and making you proper again. He lies next to you, the both of you facing the wrong way for the movie, but you don’t even care. You curl up against him, head on his chest listening to his heartbeat.

“I’ve never cum like that before.” You tell him and he chuckles, his fingertips tracing lines down your bare arms.

“That’s a crying shame. You’re stunning, and when you cum-it’s like a whole different level. I would love to watch you cum over and over all day someday. Just to watch that face you make and hear those gorgeous noises.” He says and you feel yourself blushing. “Maybe next time, we can be somewhere for you to be loud. Wanna hear you scream my name.” He whispers and you groan.

“That probably won’t be a problem.” You admit and he laughs quietly. “Can I-“ you reach for his belt buckle, but he catches your wrist.

“This was about you tonight, hermosa.” He says, pulling your hand back up to hold it on his chest.

“You look uncomfortable.” You tell him and he chuckles.

“Reward of a job well done. I like a little bit of pain.” He says softly.

You file that bit of information away for later. “Alright, just don’t go exploding. I’d like to see you again.” You warn him and he kisses the crown of your head.

“Not to worry, princesa. I won’t explode without you.” He promises and you snuggle more against his chest, satisfied and getting sleepy.

***

Javi

He looks down at you, asleep in his arms and drops his head back down. He’s in trouble. He likes this way too much for this to be his first date with you.

The credits are rolling but he doesn’t care that you both missed more than half of the movie. He lifts his head, kissing the top of your hair.

“Hermosa,” he whispers. “Wake up, pretty girl.” He says gently rocking your shoulder. You don’t move and he gently shifts you off his chest and onto your back. He kisses your forehead, between your cute little eyebrows, the tip of your nose. One temple, then the other. He can see your eyelids fluttering. He kisses down your cheek, the point of your chin, up your other cheek.

Christ, you smell good. He nudges your head to the side with his nose, kissing down your neck, admiring his handiwork with the hickie he left. He licks at the hollow in the center at the base of your throat. He allows one small nip at your skin, soothing it over with his tongue as your face scrunches and you whine softly. He trails slow kisses down your sternum, nipping at the top of your perfect breasts. He licks there, too and you shiver as the cool breeze blows over it.

You whine again, your hands coming up to settle in his hair. He kisses down between your breasts, down over your stomach, hands bunching up your skirt, wondering how far you’ll let him go with this.

“Don’t be a tease, Peña.” You mumble, eyes still closed and he chuckles.

“Movie’s over, cariño.” He comes back up, brushing your soft cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“And?” You sigh, pulling his head to yours and he laughs, kissing you with repeated quick little pecks. “You’re such a menace.” You complain.

“I’m aware.” He grins, rolling back over next to you and you sit up.

“Do you have to work tomorrow?” You ask, rolling against his chest and looking down at him. Your hair falls into your face, tickling him. He brushes it back, taking every chance to touch you now that he knows he can.

“I’m not supposed to. But in my line of work, you never really know.” He says.

“Okay. I can live with that.” You kiss him softly and pull away too quickly. He tries to follow, half sitting up and you laugh.

“I should take you home before the bugs eat you alive.” He says, sitting up next to you and leaning back on his hands.

“Unless you want another go at it.” You wiggle your eyebrows and he laughs.

“I’m not saying no.” He turns and scoots to the tailgate, pulling his boots on. You slide next to him and he gets down, scooping you up easily.

You shriek and laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Smooth.”

He winks and sets you in the front seat. He returns the speakers, gathers up the pillows and blankets and throws away the popcorn. He climbs back in and returns your shoes.

He starts the truck and is pleased when you lean against him again. He could very easily get used to this. He drives you home, parking out front. He climbs out, holding his hand out for you. He doesn’t let it go, though, as he walks you to the front door.

You hesitate at the door, fiddling with your keys. “Can I tempt you to come inside?” You ask, looking up at him.

“Darlin’, if anyone could, it would be you. But, I think I’m going to say no tonight. I always rush into everything and this-I want to take this slow.” He says, his heart cracking at turning you down, but you don’t get mad, you just smile at him so sweetly.

“Alright.” You beckon him closer and kiss him deeply, arms wrapped around his shoulders, on your tiptoes, fevered. He returns it, hands bunching into fists against your back.

“Christ, woman.” He pulls back, heart racing and breathing hard. Luckily, you look just as flushed as he feels. “Can I see you tomorrow?” He asks.

“Pending any major drug related emergencies? Absolutely.” You nod and he grins.

“It’s a date. Breakfast? I have plans.”

“I can be up in time for breakfast.” You agree.

“Perfect. Goodnight.” He says softly and makes sure you get inside and the door locks before he walks back to his truck. He climbs inside, grinning like an idiot. And it isn’t until he starts the engine that he remembers the stupid panda.

“Fuck.”

#mermaidxatxheart-writes #romance #pedro pascal #narcos #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena smut #javier pena x you #javier pena fic #reader fanfiction #reader fic #reader insert #x reader

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kingofbodyrolls · 7 months

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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | two

🐴Chapter summary: Life on the ranch is hard and you keep fucking everything up with stupid mistakes. 🐴Chapter title: It's a Long Road 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: mention of past character death (parents) 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 9.1k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog @kiki-zb @babejinnie @ownthesunshine @allie-is-a-panda @glllhjh @bergandysam @13-manggaetteok

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Common Ground” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note (1): I really enjoy writing this so far. But this idea has been stuck in my head for months, so it feels wonderful to finally get it out! I’m still not sure if anyone would read this– but it’s already a gem to me. Thank you for reading!

There’s a scene in here that my lovely and wonderful friend @letjungcoook7 give me the idea to (it has something to do with clothes 🤭). Thank you so much for that Lua, I think it added some more fun to it ✨

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“Common ground, find common ground It is out there, it can be found Many chances, many ways Common ground, the road is laid” - Common Ground by Rebecca Lavelle

Your original plan was to leave… But reality has a way of unraveling even the best-laid plans. Now, here you are, a week after that steamy romp with Jungkook, still in need of Jessi's elusive signature.

Surviving on the ranch proves challenging, and while your farming skills leave much to be desired, strangely, they seem to bring a spark to Jessi's mood. Amidst the hardships, you're learning to cut yourself some slack.

Calling in a favor from a city friend, a bundle of your wardrobe arrives at the ranch, despite the fact that most of your outfits are far from farm-friendly. However, you find solace in the timeless pairing of jeans and shirts—pieces that work in any setting.

However, when it comes to footwear, you find yourself lacking the rugged, durable boots that the others sport. Your feet continue to be clad in sneakers, a clear misfit in this sea of robust workwear. Despite the glaring contrast, the idea of venturing to a store to purchase a pair is pushed aside; after all, you'll be returning home soon, won't you?

As you strive to lend a hand around the ranch, the sense of being more of a hindrance than assistance creeps in, casting a shadow on your enthusiasm. It's disheartening, but you persevere, masking your frustration with a determined smile.

The blueprint to win Jessi's favor unfolds gradually. Tempted by the notion of pestering her into signing the paper, a more rebellious approach, you ponder the likely outcome – perhaps just another swift dismissal.

Thus, opting for a strategic route, you resolve to stay, contribute, and gradually earn your place in her good graces.

Yet, reality proves to be more intricate than anticipated. Earning Jessi's trust unfolds as a formidable challenge. Fortunately, the camaraderie with the girls injects a daily dose of humor, infusing a much-needed levity into the demanding rigors of ranch life. Their presence becomes a driving force, propelling you through the grueling tasks with shared laughter and a sense of solidarity.

But that thing with Jungkook and Jimin?

It’s a perplexing puzzle that haunts your thoughts. Grateful for the absence of both men since that eventful barn party, you find yourself at a loss. Jimin's wounded expression lingers in your mind; his unexpected hurt leaves you questioning the depth of his emotions.

Why does it matter to him so much, and what, if anything, should you do about it?

Jungkook's reputation as a flirtatious charmer precedes him—undeniably a heartbreaker and a fuckboy. The logical part of you suggests steering clear of him altogether, yet you can't deny the undeniable truth—he delivered an unforgettable night that still lingers in your memory.

Jimin's piercing gaze remains etched in the recesses of your thoughts, tempting you to unravel the mystery behind his somber expression. A nagging curiosity creeps in—was it solely witnessing you with his brother, or does it delve into uncharted territories?

Frustration mounts as you find yourself pondering over these unresolved questions, all while diligently shoveling manure in the dim-lit barn.

The relentless echo of Jimin's haunting gaze has dominated your thoughts throughout the week, a relentless presence that might easily dissipate with a simple conversation. Yet, the prospect of confronting those melancholic, deep brown eyes sends shivers down your spine, and your stomach churns with trepidation each time the memory of his gaze resurfaces.

You know you shouldn't dwell on thoughts of the Park brothers, especially after learning the intricacies of their familial ties. The revelation that they are half-brothers, sharing the same father, doesn't diminish the complexity of their relationship. They are still bound by blood, and the complications of their connection linger in your mind, tempting you into a web of contemplation you desperately try to escape.

You're drawn from your thoughts by the gentle whinny of a horse, and as you glance up, you're captivated by the majestic creature in its stall.

While your knowledge of horses is limited, the rugged breed before you exudes a unique beauty, its pristine white coat and matching mane captivates you.

Memories of your childhood flood back when you used to ride horses on this very ranch. The nostalgic recollections evoke a sense of longing. However, the prospect of mounting a horse now appears somewhat daunting; these majestic creatures seem even more substantial and imposing as an adult.

Soo-ah's words echo in your mind, urging you to reclaim the reins and saddle up if you truly wish to contribute on the ranch.

Contemplating the idea, you sense a growing determination within, a readiness to embrace the challenge and reconnect with the equestrian world you left behind.

Jessi's voice cuts through the rhythmic clatter of your stall-cleaning routine, a sudden burst of urgency that startles you. She barrels into the barn with a sense of urgency, proclaiming, “Hey! We've got to head to Park's ranch!”

The abrupt interruption leaves you momentarily shaken from your chores.

Your shoulders slump as you mope and question, “Now?”

The unfinished tasks nag at you, a testament to the never-ending workload on the ranch. The sense of wanting to complete your current chore before diving into the next one hangs heavy in your voice, and the realization dawns on you that the work on a ranch is an ever-flowing river, each completed task replaced by another in an endless stream.

“Yes, come on!” Her enthusiastic insistence echoes through the barn, and with a determined grunt, she secures a saddle and snatches up a bridle, cradling them with purpose under her arm.

As you set the shovel aside, your eyes widen in disbelief. “Aren't we taking the car?” you inquire, puzzled by the sudden need for saddles and bridles, questioning the unconventional choice of transportation for this mysterious journey to Park's ranch.

Her response is resolute, accompanied by a hint of laughter underlying her words. “No. The horses are just as fast,” she asserts, the firmness in her voice accompanied by a playful chuckle, revealing her persistent agenda to get you back in the saddle since the day you committed to assisting on the ranch. You can almost visualize the sly curve of her smile.

Shivers of both excitement and nervousness run down your spine. It's happening – you're about to mount a horse for the first time since childhood. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. Yes, you're ready. Absolutely ready!

Jessi swings open the stall door, revealing the majestic white horse inside.

She affectionately pats its head, and it responds with a gentle whinny, as if appreciating the attention. With practiced ease, she adorns the horse with a saddle and bridle.

Stepping out with the horse in tow, she introduces, “Meet Marshmallow. Not only is he a serene and calm companion, but he's also perfect for beginners like you – friendly and patient.”

She hands you the bridle, a tangible connection to the upcoming adventure. As you cradle it in your hands, your gaze fixes on the magnificent white horse before you. A closer look reveals delicate gray spots adorning its coat, like nature's artistic brushstrokes enhancing its beauty.

Jessi tends to another horse, a rich brown beauty, securing a saddle and bridle. With graceful strides, she leads the horse towards you, introducing him with pride, “This is my horse, goes by the name Cinnamon.”

“I’ll help you up on your horse if you need that?” She chuckles, a teasing glint in her eyes, as if you've never mounted a horse before.

“No, I'm perfectly capable. Thanks.” You retort, a tinge of frustration in your voice. You take a moment to gather the reins and locate the stirrup. The choice of a western saddle suddenly becomes a blessing, its size and comfort bringing a sense of familiarity and reassurance.

You stretch your left leg up, slotting your foot into the stirrup, and then firmly grasp the horn atop the saddle. Marshmallow remains remarkably still, a paragon of patience as you haul yourself up, swinging your right leg over his substantial white frame. A surge of triumph floods through you as you mount successfully, a proud smile illuminating your face as you glance over at your sister.

Her laughter rings out in congratulation as she mirrors your movements, executing them with a finesse that far surpasses your own. With a gentle push of her legs and the subtle click of her tongue, she effortlessly guides Cinnamon forward, setting a fluid and harmonious rhythm into motion.

Emulating your sister's skilled maneuver, you replicate the actions with Marshmallow, coaxing him to step leisurely out of the expansive brown barn.

Eyeing Jessi's brown hat, you playfully remark, “Hey, I need a hat like yours.” Her laughter rings out, and she quips, “I don't think it will suit you.”

Pouting slightly, you reluctantly admit she might be right. Hats have never been your forte. Meanwhile, Jessi rocks the rancher's look effortlessly with her boots, jeans, shirt, and the hat, completing the ensemble perfectly.

Her laughter echoes through the air as she nudges Cinnamon into a trot. Catching her infectious joy, you mimic the motion, urging Marshmallow to pick up the pace. The rhythmic sound of hooves on the ground makes your heart flutter.

As you navigate the trot, the uncertainty of your riding technique leaves you in an amusing predicament. Unsure whether to sit or stand in the saddle, you find a comical middle ground, hoping Marshmallow isn't too bothered.

Jessi, catching sight of your improvised riding style, bursts into laughter.

“Are you sure this is as fast as the car?” Expressing your skepticism, you grumble while attempting to sync with Marshmallow's trot. The rhythmic clip-clop of hooves echoes around you, and you can't help but question if this equine journey rivals the speed of a car. Jessi glances at you with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying your equine adventure.

In the midst of Marshmallow's trot, Jessi reassures you, “In trot, it's not. But if we gallop, it's just as fast.”

As you ponder her words, it occurs to you that despite her initial urgency to reach the Park's farm, she's taking a leisurely pace, perhaps out of consideration for your riding abilities. Despite the dread of facing the Park brothers, a part of you yearns to arrive sooner, to get this over with as soon as possible.

“Let’s gallop then,” you declare, urging Marshmallow to quicken the pace by pressing your legs against his sides. However, to your surprise, nothing happens, leaving you in a momentary standstill of awkward anticipation.

“You have to sit down in the saddle, all your weight in your ass, and then press a little more with your legs,” Jessi advises, demonstrating the technique on Cinnamon. She adds a few clicking sounds with her tongue, coaxing him into a slow gallop that brings a newfound sense of excitement to the ride.

Following your sister's instructions, you concentrate your weight in your seat, anchored firmly in the saddle. As you press your legs gently, finally, Marshmallow responds, bursting into a slow gallop. The increased speed causes your hair to whip around your face, prompting you to make a mental note to braid it next time for a more practical riding experience.

Together, you and Jessi gallop through the paddocks, surrounded by the mesmerizing landscape of trees and bushes. The natural beauty here is breathtaking, a stark contrast to the towering buildings of the city. Vast open spaces stretch for miles, inviting you to lose yourself in the expansive, untamed wilderness.

As you ride, the motions become second nature, and memories flood back as if the years haven't passed. In just ten minutes, you reconnect with the familiarity of being in the saddle, as though the skill never left you.

Choosing to unleash a faster gallop, you and your sister give your horses the freedom to surge ahead across the lush green expanse.

The wind caresses your face, setting your hair adrift like a carefree banner. In that exhilarating moment, a surge of childlike joy courses through you, reminiscent of carefree days filled with love. Memories of running in fields, playing hide and seek, and riding ponies with your sister flood your mind. The sheer nostalgia brings tears to your eyes, but you're grateful for the wind whisking them away before your sister can catch a glimpse.

As you approach what initially seemed like a quaint ranch in the distance, the truth unfolds—a vast expanse unfolds before you. The grandeur of the estate becomes apparent, with a towering two-story main house, a dedicated stable for horses, a barn housing machinery, and a sprawling structure that you suspect might be living quarters for the stable hands. The scale of the property dwarfs your own, leaving you in awe of its sheer size and splendor.

As you approach the ranch, an undeniable sense of dread takes residence in your body.

The looming encounter with Jungkook and Jimin fills you with apprehension. Questions swirl in your mind, pondering how they perceive you – perhaps as the ‘once and done’ kind of girl. It's a misconception, not reflective of who you truly are, yet the complexities of forming a connection with someone like Jungkook, an apparent playboy living miles away, make you hesitant to dive into a relationship.

As you reach the fence, Jessi graciously swings open the gate, and you guide your horse, trotting the final stretch towards the big main house.

Dismounting gracefully, you secure the reins to a sturdy tree post, glancing at the trio of Ford Rangers nearby – a vivid blue one, a sleek black model, and a pristine white vehicle adorned with the distinctive ‘Bell Ranch’ logo. What a weird ranch name.

You stride towards the main house, ready to knock on the front door in a show of politeness. However, Jessi displays the familiarity of a long-time resident, confidently navigating the premises as if it were her own. Faced with an unanswered door, Jessi takes matters into her own hands, her voice echoing through the surroundings, “Kook! Where are you at?”

You roll your eyes, your tolerance for waiting a few moments longer evident, but you surmise this is the country way—or maybe your sister is just exceptionally impatient. Either way, you decide to go along with the local rhythm.

Your gaze locks onto a mop of blonde hair, and an instant wave of regret and uneasiness sweeps through your stomach. A dry lump forms in your throat as your eyes meet Jimin's. His smile, initially bright for your sister, fades into a closed-off expression the moment his gaze lands on you.

Impatience radiates from your sister as she taps her feet against the dirt, demanding answers. “Where's Kook?” she questions Jimin once more, her tone laced with urgency.

“In the barn fixing his bike, I’ll get him.” Jimin responds with a smile, swiftly moving past both of you. As he walks away, you can't help but admire the dirt clinging to him—oddly, he looks enticing covered in the grime. Despite his disheveled appearance, with every speck of dirt, there's an inexplicable allure. You ponder on his hands, dirty and rough, a stark contrast to how you saw him last at the party. He limps as he walks away, and you turn to ask your sister about it, but before you haven’t even spoken the words before, Jimin emerges from the barn with Jungkook at his side.

Jungkook strides purposefully, a confident spring in his step. “Back for round two?”

Your eyes widen, feeling like they might bulge out of their sockets, and a dry lump forms in your throat, making it hard to breathe. Desperately gasping for air, you fumble for words, all while witnessing Jessi and Jimin exchanging eye rolls, and Jungkook indulging in a hearty laugh that echoes from the depths of his chest.

“No, thank you,” you sputter, attempting to regain composure while a storm of emotions swirls within.

“You're welcome anytime, babe,” he teases, winking playfully. Jessi swiftly cuts in with a dismissive wave, “Enough of that,” she declares, clearly accustomed to Jungkook's flirtatious antics.

“We're here to discuss the cattle grazing in the north-east paddock. With the grass running thin, it's time to consider relocating them. How about we join forces and move them to one of your paddocks?” She crosses her arms, her business demeanor impressing you; there's an air of determination that makes you wonder if you could learn a thing or two from her.

“Oh, already? They must be hungry,” Jungkook chuckles, his hands smeared with grease and oil as he absentmindedly wipes them on his jeans.

“We're ready to lend a hand whenever you say the word,” Jimin interjects, his straightforward demeanor becoming more apparent with each word.

“I'm aiming for next Friday, sounds good to you?” She directs her question with a warm smile at Jimin, playfully scolding Jungkook with a friendly slap on the shoulder for his playful banter as he keeps making eyes at you.

“Yes, that works for us.” Jimin responds with a smile, though it isn't directed at you, and a sense of unease settles in. Is it regret, perhaps? You entertain the idea of saying something, but the setting doesn't feel right, so you choose to stay silent.

As the true purpose of this trip dawns on you, you can't help but question Jessi's impatience, especially when she's making plans for something scheduled next week. You initially thought it was an urgent matter, leaving you wondering if impatience is a constant trait in her character.

Jessi claps her hands with genuine excitement. “Great, thank you!” With goodbyes exchanged, you both stride back to your horses, mounting up and steering them towards home.

Ara sighs in exasperation, pointing at the feed packages. “You used the wrong one again!”

One is adorned in green with crisp white text, while the other flaunts a snowy white exterior with vibrant green letters. It shouldn't be this hard, but somehow, it manages to confuse you every time. It’s a white bag with green text! Why do you keep mixing them up?

“I’m so sorry!” Apologies spill from your lips in frustration. This marks the second time, and you scold yourself silently. How could you make the same mistake again? The weight of responsibility hangs heavy; after all, it's not just about feed but the well-being of the cattle. Grateful relief washes over you, realizing that, so far, your blunders haven't harmed the animals.

As she gathers her brown hair into a playful ponytail, she throws a suggestion your way, “How about a trip into town? We're running low on feed, and I could do with some company.”

“Sure!” Your response carries a cheerful tone as you eagerly agree, taking charge of the kitchen cleanup after Ha-rin has whipped up breakfast for the whole crew.

“Perfect, we'll head out once you’re done here.” Her words float in the air as she exits the kitchen, leaving you with the remnants of breakfast to tidy up.

As you complete the cleanup, you step into the crisp outdoors to join Ara. Soo-ah has also gathered with her, forming a trio headed towards the ranch's pick-up truck—a simple white vehicle adorned with the ranch logo. “Bora Ranch?” you muse aloud, the words escaping your lips and drawing the curious gazes of the two girls.

“Yeah, you didn’t know the name of the ranch?” Ara asks you curious.

“Honestly, I've been so immersed in learning the ropes and surviving the ranch life that I overlooked the name. But hey, now I do!” With a decisive shake of your head, you grasp the door handle, swiftly pulling it open to slide into the car.

“Wasn’t the ranch called Bora when you were a kid?” Soo-ah inquires, turning around in the front seat to catch your response.

“Nope, can't recall what it was called back then, if anything at all,” you chuckle, settling into the car seat.

The engine purrs to life under Soo-ah's control as she expertly maneuvers the car, guiding it through the ranch's vast expanse along the winding dirt road.

The two-hour drive into town becomes a delightful journey of shared stories and laughter, weaving a stronger bond between you, Soo-ah, and Ara. In those moments, you discover the genuine sweetness that resides within both of these girls, making the passage of time feel like a fleeting friendship blossoming on the open road.

As you pull into town, the anticipation builds, and the car finds its spot next to the feedstore. Ara eagerly guides you through the intricacies of the new feed brand, making a vivid presentation to ensure there's no room for confusion between it and the previous one.

As you load the pick-up truck with feed, your gaze wanders across the quaint town. It's remarkably small, dominated by a main road adorned with a handful of establishments — the feedstore, a chic salon, a boutique showcasing fashionable attire, and a charming corner cafe. Amidst these, the bar captures your attention. Its size is impressive, boasting a spacious parking lot, and despite the midday hour, a growing lineup of cars hints at its popularity. However, what truly stands out is a black Ford Ranger, its exterior, though smeared with mud, commanding attention amidst the other vehicles.

Soo-ah and Ara catch your gaze and follow your line of sight, their eyes locking onto his car. A shared look of sympathy reflects in their eyes as they turn to you. Confusion reigns for a brief moment until your eyes lock onto Jungkook, seated outside the bar, his lips murmuring something into the ear of an eager woman. In that instant, reality crashes down on you like a ton of bricks. Their pitiful expressions make sense now—he is, without a doubt, a notorious fuckboy.

A furrow forms on your brow, a moment of fleeting confusion, but then the realization hits—you and Jungkook aren't a thing. A single night together doesn't forge a relationship. You're not staking any claim, nor do you desire to. Yet, buried in the depths, a twinge of discomfort surfaces as you witness him flirt so effortlessly.

Soo-ah's comforting words echo in your ears as her gentle pat on your back serves as a reassurance.

“Just forget him,” she advises, and you try to let those words act as a soothing balm for the unexpected sting in your chest.

A chuckle escapes your lips, a spontaneous reaction to the absurdity of the situation. The notion of dating him had never crossed your mind, making the surge of unexpected emotions puzzling. “I will,” you affirm, determined to sweep away any lingering thoughts of Jungkook with the winds of laughter.

Ara's voice carries a weight of revelation as she completes her circle around the car, dropping a bombshell about Jungkook's romantic history. “He's never been in a relationship. It's always a quick pickup, a couple of encounters, and that's the end of it,” she discloses, leaving you to digest the surprising insight into Jungkook's love life.

Her revelation lingers in your thoughts, and as you mull it over, a resolution forms in your mind: Jungkook, with his transient affairs, aligns with the rumors. You decide to tread cautiously, steering clear of any emotional entanglements that might lead to a broken heart once more.

“Let's get out of here.” Soo-ah's words cut through the tension, and she pounds on the car to redirect your attention away from the spectacle of Jungkook's seduction. You avert your gaze, feeling a mix of relief and discomfort, and climb back into the car.

As Soo-ah drives you away from the scene, your mind races at a million miles per hour.

You draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for the impending conversation. The rhythmic thud of your heart echoes in your ears, and your fingers tremble with nervous anticipation as you traverse the hallway towards Jessi's office. The closed door looms ahead, and you muster the courage to knock, the sound echoing your internal turmoil as you await her response.

“Yes?”

Her voice resonates with stern irritation, and the meager courage you had gathered begins to wane. Nevertheless, you persist, pushing the door open and stepping into her office. The room is dimly lit, the yellow light flickering ominously. A sense of impending darkness hovers, and you suspect the light bulb may surrender to its fate soon. Papers and clutter cover the desk and floor, creating a chaotic tapestry. Amidst the disorder, a few paintings of landscapes with gazing horses hang on the walls—childlike in their execution.

You can't help but wonder if Jessi crafted these artistic expressions all those years ago and if, deep down, she still finds solace in the strokes of a paintbrush, much like you do.

Jessi is laser-focused on her laptop, her gaze oscillating between the glowing screen and a stack of papers nearby. It occurs to you that she might be immersed in the daunting task of managing bills, and it strikes you that this might not be the ideal moment to disturb her. Despite this realization, you've already crossed the threshold, determined to make another attempt at securing her signature.

“I was wondering if I could get your signature…” Your sentence hangs in the air, unfinished, as she abruptly turns her head to gaze at you. The movement is so swift, you half expect her to suffer whiplash. An air of anger envelops her expression, and though you can practically predict her response, you stand there, waiting for her to articulate the inevitable refusal.

“No.” The word is a sharp, decisive blade cutting through the air. She meets your gaze with a frustrated expression, sighing as if weary from the mere thought. “Look, I know you want to sell your share. But that’s just not gonna work for me.”

You exhale a frustrated breath, irritation evident in your voice. “Can't we find some middle ground or work out a solution?”

You attempt to plead your case, but she remains steadfast, refusing to entertain your appeals. It doesn't catch you off guard, but the refusal still grates on your nerves. Why can't she just sign the damn paper?

“I've already made it clear. I don't want strangers to buy my ranch,” she declares bluntly, her voice laced with venom. Your anger intensifies as you sense the injustice of the situation. You're not interested in a share of the ranch; you just want the damn money and to move on. Why can't she simply grant you that?

“Can't Soo-ah, Ha-rin, Ara, or you just buy me out?” you vent in frustration, the anger escalating within you. This isn't unfolding as you planned—yet again.

Jessi's laughter cuts through the air, a menacing tone clinging to it. “They don't have the money. And I don't have the money for that either. Don't you think I thought of that already?” she retorts, words spat out like venom, her breath quickening from the tension in the room.

“Can’t you just loan some money from the bank and buy me out?” you plead with her in frustration. She rolls her eyes at your seemingly childish behavior, “This is a ranch. The bank is not going to loan me more money. I'm already in debt there,” she retorts, a hint of exhaustion in her voice.

Your mouth falls open in shock. The intricacies of running a ranch, especially the financial aspects, had never crossed your mind before, but now it hits you that it isn't a cheap endeavor. Exhaling in frustration, you start pacing around in front of her imposing wooden desk.

“It's clear we've reached an impasse,” she declares with venom in her voice, slamming the laptop shut. As she rises from her chair, the veins in her arms become visible, pulsating with the tension in the room.

“You might as well go, because I'm not changing my mind.” She points sternly at the door, and you can feel the anger bubbling inside you, your blood reaching a boiling point.

“Why can’t you be a good sister and let me have this?”” you ask, your anger surfacing as you clench your hands at your sides, teeth biting into your lips, desperately trying to contain words that might lead to regret.

“A good sister?” She spits back in your face, her voice dripping with venom, eyes as cold as ice. “Who the fuck are you to speak about being a good sister!” Her volume rises, accusing finger pointing at you. “I haven’t heard from you in twenty fucking years! And when I invited you to mom’s funeral, you didn’t even reply or get back to me! Some ‘good sister’ you are.” She’s almost panting as she spits rapid fire from her mouth.

You feel the urge to lash out, anger filling you to the brim, but with nowhere for it to go, it erupts as tears streaming down your face. Control slips away the longer you stand here. “I know I didn’t call you or anything. And I’m really sorry about that.” Clenching your hands, you let the tears fall freely.

It doesn’t seem to faze Jessi; she just huffs in annoyance, as if your apology holds no significance for her.

“I had my own stuff to focus on…” You begin to sniffle as you reflect on the events of just a few months ago. The pain still lingers within you, causing a visible tremor to shake through your frame.

“What could be more important than the death of your mother?” She spits back at you, her eyes piercing into the depths of your soul.

“My dad died of cancer!” You yell in her face, tears streaming down, heartbeat thumping with anger. Despite your efforts to dry your tears, it's futile. You retreat from the desk, overwhelmed by memories of your ailing father—frail, immobilized, his eyes devoid of life. It's too much, and you storm out, oblivious to the sadness etched on Jessi's face as you leave.

You dash out of the house, ending up in front of a gate leading to one of the paddocks. The need to clear your head drives you to open the gate, and you start walking, still overcome with sobs. Climbing over the hill, you notice a cluster of trees in the distance. Despite the darkness enveloping the surroundings, their presence is unmistakable.

As you tread the path, the weight of your father's recent death and the distant memories of your mother resurface. The choice between their funerals wasn't made lightly. Yet, in the end, it was clear – your dad, a constant presence throughout the years, deserved your presence more than the woman who had been a stranger for two decades.

Your tears persist, an endless stream down your face. The length of your walk is uncertain, but when you glance back, the ranch appears as a mere speck on the vast horizon, a distant point in a landscape now overshadowed by the weight of your emotions.

You discover a substantial tree log and settle down, planting yourself on it. Alone amidst the expansive embrace of nature, you surrender to the waves of sorrow, allowing the vastness around you to become a silent witness to your emotional unraveling.

For what felt like an eternity, it was only you and your father. The day he took you away from the ranch, from your sister's embrace, it left your heart in shards. Despite numerous inquiries, he kept the reason veiled until the very day he drew his last breath. With a fragile whisper, he beckoned you closer, he shared in hushed tones the painful revelation behind your abrupt departure years ago. He had unearthed the heartbreaking truth that your mother had been unfaithful, a betrayal repeated countless times despite his pleas for fidelity. It was the final, unbearable straw that fractured the fragile bonds holding your family together.

Lost in the vast expanse of time, you eventually lift your gaze, captivated by the celestial display overhead. The stars twinkle in a cosmic dance, their brilliance far removed from the city's suffocating glow. The beauty of the night sky resonates with you, prompting a twinge of sorrow. This rural haven has grown on you, its tranquility a stark departure from the chaos of the city. A sense of foreboding creeps in as the prospect of returning to the city looms, leaving you conflicted and uneasy.

Torn between the serene allure of the countryside and the harsh reality of unresolved issues, you grapple with conflicting emotions. The idyllic surroundings clash with the palpable tension between you and Jessi. Her apparent disdain and refusal to facilitate the sale of your share leave you caught in a tumultuous predicament, akin to being trapped between a rock and a hard place.

The symphony of crickets reverberates in the bushes, and as the chilly air seeps into your bones, a decision crystallizes within you – it's time to reluctantly return to the ranch.

“Get up you fool!” Jessi's voice pierces through your dreams as she yanks the covers off your still-drowsy form. Startled, you jolt upright, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You mumble through a yawn, not quite fully awakened to handle your sister's early morning energy. Your eyes, still puffy from the tears shed yesterday, bear witness to the emotional turmoil that led you to cry yourself to sleep. You had purposely avoided any conversation with Jessi upon your return, convinced that the words exchanged would only add more weight to the heavy air lingering between you two.

“The cattle are loose!”

Her urgent cry jolts you awake, prompting a hasty scramble to throw clothes over your drowsy form. “Get up and help!” The command echoes through the house, accompanied by the chaotic symphony of hurried footsteps. The urgency compels you to leap out of bed, hastily pulling on the jeans Jessi tossed your way, followed by a shirt and your sneakers in rapid succession. The echo of multiple footsteps thundering through the house only intensifies the sense of impending chaos.

You dash outside to find a bustling scene in the yard—cattle meandering at a leisurely pace, a few grazing on the lawn, and mischief-makers having ventured into the vegetable garden, creating a lively and chaotic spectacle.

Under Jessi's brisk command, you, along with Soo-ah, Ha-rin, and Ara, embark on the mission to corral the wayward cows and guide them back to the paddock. The endeavor unfolds as a symphony of teamwork, with shouts and laughter echoing through the air. It's an hour of spirited effort before the last stray bovine is safely enclosed within the fence, the collective achievement ringing with a sense of accomplishment.

Jessi forcefully shuts the gate, her exasperated exhale slicing through the tension in the air. “Who left the damn gate open?”

Her gaze sweeps across the group, sharp and accusatory. The realization hits you like a bolt – yesterday's walk. Anxiety gnaws at you as her eyes narrow, pinpointing your guilt.

“Fucking useless,” she mutters, striding away with an air of frustration, leaving a lingering sense of failure in her wake.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin surround you, their words a comforting chorus dispelling the air of failure.

“Anyone could have slipped up; it was just a simple mistake,” they assure you, attempting to soothe the lingering tension. With their encouragement, the weight of the mishap eases, replaced by a collective understanding that, in the end, all the cattle were safely corralled back in.

A gnawing sense of inadequacy settles in your chest, a relentless reminder of perceived shortcomings. It's not just about the occasional missteps—whether in riding, feed, or even a simple tire change. Or the way you seem to get on your sister’s nerves everyday. Each incident, a haunting echo of ineptitude, leaves you questioning your worth in this environment. perhaps you're the one who's out of place here, incapable of getting anything right. The thought of returning home starts to linger, a tempting escape from a seemingly never-ending string of blunders.

Despite pouring your feelings of inadequacy to the girls, their reassurances haven't managed to erase the heavy weight on your shoulders. The elusive signature from Jessi seems like a distant dream, and the strained relationship with her intensifies your desire to leave.

Yet, when the girls invited you to the local town bar before your departure, you agreed. It's a farewell tinged with uncertainty, a bittersweet blend of camaraderie and the looming decision to walk away from the ranch.

As you rummage through the clothes in the guest room, seeking the perfect outfit for the evening, Ha-rin's advice echoes in your mind – nothing too fancy, just a simple shirt and jeans.

Yet, your hands, tangled in the fabric of uncertainty, grapple with the realization that the perfect shirt is elusive. Did you run out, or is it merely camouflaged within the folds of your wardrobe, playing a coy game of hide-and-seek?

As the realization dawns that your entire collection of shirts is held hostage in the laundry's cleansing embrace, a dilemma unfolds before you.

The prospect of trudging to the distant cottages to borrow a shirt from the girls seems an arduous task. Instead, a mischievous thought tiptoes into your mind – borrowing a shirt from Jessi. It's just a shirt, a fleeting thought whispers, and she probably wouldn't even notice, right?

Stepping away from the chaos of your disheveled room, you ascend the staircase, guided by the thought of borrowing a shirt from Jessi. With the certainty of her absence, you boldly push open the door to her room, revealing a sanctuary of simplicity. The regal expanse of the king-sized bed commands attention, accompanied by sparse embellishments – a poignant photograph capturing Jessi with your mom and her loyal companion, Cinnamon. A modest dresser stands sentinel next to the door, holding its silent vigil over the room.

With a hesitant curiosity, you breach the privacy of Jessi's dresser, a repository of her sartorial choices.

Rows of jeans, shirts, and blouses reveal a spectrum dominated by natural and earthy hues – an insight into her affinity for the subtle tones of nature. A twinge of guilt flickers within you, acknowledging the intimacy and impropriety of this clandestine exploration. Despite the internal conflict, your quest for the perfect t-shirt propels you deeper into the folds of her wardrobe.

As your fingers graze the various textures, you're captivated by the softness that beckons your touch. A distinctive fabric captures your attention, and you pull out a grunge-inspired t-shirt—its black canvas adorned with shades of gray, embellished by the iconic AC/DC logo. A chuckle escapes you, a silent agreement with your choice.

Closing the dresser door behind you, you return to your room, adorned in the rebellious elegance of your discovery, finalizing your look with a touch of light makeup.

You slide into a zip hoodie, a borrowed shield from Jessi's collection, the fabric embracing you in warmth against the crisp night air. Stepping out to the pickup, you find the girls patiently waiting, and even Jessi stands there but she doesn’t spare you a look.

You settle into the car, the engine's hum creating a rhythmic melody as Ha-rin skillfully navigates the night roads. The world outside blurs in shades of darkness, dirt dancing against the windows like fleeting shadows. Ha-rin has cranked up the heat, prompting you to unzip your hoodie.

As the car inches closer to town in the dimness, you feel the proximity of civilization, and just then, Soo-ah interjects, snapping you out of your contemplation, “Who's taking the wheel on our way back?”

A collective gaze circulates among you, and you break the silence, declaring, “I'll take the wheel. I don't plan on indulging much tonight, anyway.”

As Jessi turns her gaze toward you from the passenger's seat, her eyes lock onto the fabric hugging your frame – a subtle frown etching across her features. “Is that my shirt?” she questions, the tone a blend of curiosity and a hint of something else.

“Yeah, is it okay—,” you begin, but she cuts you off with a scoff. “Take it off,” she demands, leaving you staring at her in disbelief. Surely, she can't be serious!

“All my shirts are in the laundry. I hoped it was okay…” you mope, a pout forming on your face as you cross your arms. The prospect of having to take it off leaves you in a momentary dilemma.

“Well, you didn't ask if you could wear it. So, take. It. Off. Now,” she punctuates sternly, leaving you gaping in disbelief.

“What am I going to wear at the bar then?” you question her with genuine worry. “I can't walk in there without anything on, for heaven's sake!”

“You're wearing a bra, right?” She asks, matter-of-factly, and you nod in confirmation.

“Then you're fine. You won't be the first to walk around in a bra in that place.” Your mouth falls open. You can't believe what you're hearing, and the realization that you're about to walk around there half-naked sinks in.

“I won't take it off,” you huff, crossing your arms tighter around your body, defiance etched across your face.

“If you don't take it off yourself, I'll pull it off you when we arrive,” she threatens, her tone stern and ominous. A nervous trickle of sweat trails down your back; you know your sister well enough now to recognize the determination in her voice. If you don't shed the garment now, she'll simply rip it off you, and with a bigger audience, no less.

“No thank you.” With a sigh, you peel the hoodie off, followed by the t-shirt, leaving you momentarily exposed. Just as you're about to tug the hoodie back over your torso, relishing the thought of having at least that to cover yourself, Jessi interrupts with a deadpan stare.

“That’s my hoodie too, isn’t it?” Her voice, stern and eyes shooting daggers at your skin, catches you off guard. Damn, she noticed that too. It seems you can’t get anything past her watchful gaze.

Reluctantly, you surrender both the t-shirt and the hoodie. A frown etches itself across your face. Here you are, left with nothing on your upper body except for a simple blue bra.

Gratitude tinges her voice as she accepts the returned clothing with a simple, “Thank you.”

You wear a pouty expression, sulking in silence, as the rest of the car bursts into laughter at the spectacle of your misfortune.

As Ha-rin effortlessly maneuvers the car into the bar's parking lot, you all disembark, greeted by a chilly breeze that sends shivers down your spine. Eagerly, you rush toward the entrance, craving the warmth that lies within.

Soo-ah swings open the door, ushering everyone into the bar, and immediately, the inviting warmth envelops your skin. The crowded room turns heads, eyes fixating on your unconventional attire. Whistles from a few men pierce the air, including Jungkook, causing a tinge of discomfort, but with determination, you forge ahead, blending into the lively atmosphere with your group.

Jessi guides you to a table occupied by the Park brothers and two other captivating men. The allure emanating from the group leaves you wondering – why does everyone here seem irresistibly attractive?

Jungkook whistles once more, his laughter echoing through the bar. “Did you lose a bet or something?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You roll your eyes, unfazed by Jungkook's comment, though you catch Jimin stealing a glance at your breasts. The attention makes you feel exposed, but with a hiss, you stride forward, the amused chuckles from the other girls trailing behind you. Soo-ah takes charge, heading to the bar to order drinks and offering a brief respite from the sea of eyes fixated on you.

“Well. Someone doesn’t share clothes. Apparently.” You remark with a hint of spite, directing your gaze at Jessi. She remains unfazed, nonchalantly pulling out a chair beside one of the unfamiliar men. The air thickens with tension, your words hanging in the atmosphere like a challenge.

You settle into the chair, and Soo-ah returns with a round of beers for everyone. Then, a realization dawns on her. “You haven't met Hoseok and Yoongi, have you?” she says, a spark of excitement in her eyes as she introduces you to the two unfamiliar faces at the table.

As you shake your head, laughter escaping your lips, Yoongi and Hoseok extend their hands in a friendly greeting. Introducing themselves as the reliable stable hands for Jungkook and Jimin, their warm smiles put you at ease in the lively atmosphere of the bar.

Yoongi, with his silver hair, wears an expression that hints at a perpetual lack of sleep, his tired eyes meeting yours. Clad in a simple black shirt, he offers a gentle smile while nursing his beer. On the other hand, Hoseok radiates energy, his bright smile beaming at you. His soft brown hair frames his face, falling effortlessly as he strategically averts his gaze from your bra.

You seize the beer Soo-ah passes you, savoring the first sip as the effervescent bubbles dance on your tongue. It's your one indulgence, a calculated choice, knowing you'll be the designated driver on the way back.

Hoseok's infectious chuckle accompanies his question, “How do you find ranch life?” You hesitate, torn between the weight of your struggles and the desire to keep the atmosphere light.

Opting for the lighter choice, you respond with a smile, “It’s exciting.”

But even as the words leave your lips, you recognize the mask in your tone. Hoseok, however, doesn't press for more information; he simply smiles back at you, leaving the unspoken conversation hanging in the air.

You catch Jimin staring at you again, and a subtle shiver of uneasiness trails down your spine. The intensity in his gaze leaves you questioning: Why does he keep fixating on you like that?

“Aren’t you cold?” A sudden chill envelops the air as Jimin turns his attention to you, his question hanging in the quiet intensity of the moment. Uncertain why, a shiver dances down your spine as his eyes lock onto yours. You bite your lip, offering a nonchalant shrug in response.

With a confident grin, Jungkook peels his shirt off, instantly attracting glances from a few ladies at a nearby table. “Here. You can have my shirt,” he declares, flexing his muscles proudly. Eye rolls ensue, both from Jimin and the rest of the table. Nevertheless, you accept the offered shirt with gratitude, navigating the amusing spectacle with a polite thank you.

You slip into Jungkook's shirt, instantly feeling a wave of comfort and security wash over you. It smells musky, like him.

Grinning, Yoongi playfully smacks Jungkook's chiseled chest, remarking, “Well, look who's playing the gentleman.”

Nonchalantly, Jungkook quips, “Easier to pick up the ladies like this, anyway,” as his laughter echoes through the bar. While he scans the crowd for his next conquest, you remain indifferent, content just to have a shirt on.

Jungkook's attention quickly shifts as he spots an intriguing woman across the bar, prompting him to rise from the table and saunter over to her, leaving your group behind.

While Yoongi and Hoseok engage in conversation with Soo-ah and Ha-rin about a plan to play pool, they eventually depart, leaving you, Ara, Jimin, and Jessi to hold down the fort at the table.

Her eyes plead with you as she asks, “Is it okay if I head up to the bar? I spotted some of my friends there. I know we were supposed to have fun together, but…” The appeal is directed more towards you than Jessi, and you nod in understanding. The rest of your group has already scattered, so you don't mind her branching out.

Jessi takes a deliberate sip of her beer, her eyes scanning the crowded bar. “Actually, I see someone I need to talk to too.” With a firm grip on her beer, she strides away, leaving you alone with Jimin amidst the lively atmosphere of the bar.

You offer him a tentative smile, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. In response, he mirrors the gesture, raising his beer to his lips with a hint of intrigue.

The atmosphere feels tense, and it hits you that you haven't had a proper conversation with him since the incident at the barn party. Unsettled by the lingering tension, you take the initiative to break the ice. Nervously turning the beer between your fingers, you offer, “I'm sorry if I did something wrong.”

Jimin's eyes meet yours, a gentle intensity in his gaze, and he nods, encouraging you to continue.

In a hushed tone, you admit, “I'm sorry I slept with you brother…” His reaction is immediate, a visible flinch, and suddenly the pieces of the tension between you fall into place.

“Why apologize for that?” he questions, sipping his beer with a curious glint in his eyes.

“It just seems like you're angry with me... or something,”

He observes, his eyes penetrating yours. You look away, unable to meet the intensity in those brown orbs that seem to be searching for something, and you're not sure if you're ready to confront whatever it is.

“Look,” he starts, leaning over the table, “I'm not really angry. Maybe I'm disappointed?” It's unclear if it's a question or a statement, but you choose to lean in, meeting his bold gaze head-on.

“You are, of course, allowed to sleep with whoever you want to. It's just... it's always him.” The words sound gritty, leaving his mouth with a hint of anger. Not directed at you, though. There's a sibling rivalry in his voice, a trace of jealousy that you can't ignore.

A realization hits you like a lightning bolt – is he jealous? Jealous of his own brother?

“All women are drawn to him. He's always fucking around. Not that I'm saying I want to be like that, but sometimes, it would be nice to feel noticed, you know?” His eyes carry a touch of sadness, and you offer him a sympathetic smile. It's evident this bothers him, and you're at a loss for words to comfort him.

As you wonder why he doesn't feel noticed—after all, the man is undeniably attractive—your comforting words hover on the tip of your tongue. Just as you're about to speak, he lets out a deep exhale, as if releasing pent-up emotions.

“You know… When I saw you that day in the kitchen after all those years,” He begins to say as he leans back into the chair, absently scratches his head, a gesture that hints at a blend of frustration and contemplation.

An awkward chuckle escapes him, his upper body swaying with a mix of nerves and genuine amusement. “I never thought I would see you again when you and your father left,” he admits, his laughter carrying the weight of unexpected reunions.

He fidgets with his beer, a bashful admission lingering in the air. “Did you know,” he confesses, “I had a crush on you when we were kids?” A nervous gulp follows, as if drowning the remnants of an old, unspoken secret.

The revelation hits you like a sudden storm. You had no idea. Is this the underlying reason for his jealousy?

You gaze at him with a soft intensity, a hint of nervousness in your own eyes. “I had no idea,” you confess, unraveling another layer of the complex emotions between you.

“I'm truly sorry,” you utter once more, the sincerity echoing in your voice. The unexpected entanglement with his brother wasn't part of any plan, and you hadn't anticipated him witnessing the intimate moment.

“It's fine,” he chuckles, though the sincerity in his tone remains uncertain. The curiosity nags at you, urging you to delve deeper into the past: Does he still harbor that childhood crush?

“Do you want another beer?” he queries, noting the emptiness of his bottle. You decline with a shake of your head, stating, “No, thank you. I'm the designated driver.” He comprehends, lifting himself from the chair to make his way to the bar. Returning with a fresh beer, he resettles in front of you.

“So, what's your honest take on this place?” he inquires with a chuckle, clearly aware that your response to Hoseok's previous question may not have been entirely truthful.

You release a sigh of frustration, sinking back into the chair. “It's tough. I seem to get on Jessi's nerves constantly, and I manage to mess up everything,” you admit, earning a chuckle from him at your candidness.

“Years have passed since you were last here. Getting back into the groove will take time, and she should understand that,” he remarks, sipping his beer. His gaze softens, and you find reassurance in his words. Talking to him feels comforting, and the strange tension that lingered before has dissipated.

Inhaling deeply, you confess, “I've been considering heading back home. It just feels like I mess everything up…”

Jimin dismisses your thoughts with a fervent shake of his head, “No, no, you shouldn't give up. Please, give it some more time.”

A contemplative smile tugs at your lips as you ponder Jimin's words, uncertain whether to heed his advice and give it more time. You're caught in the crossroads of uncertainty, lacking a solid reason to stay, yet finding a growing appreciation for the vast open spaces and the embrace of nature that surrounds you on the ranch.

A nostalgic warmth envelops the conversation as Jimin recalls a shared childhood memory. “Do you remember when we were kids and Jessi took your favorite bunny and hid it?” His laughter echoes through the reminiscence, and a vivid image of the past floods back to you.

“Yeah! You helped me find it,” you respond, a genuine smile playing on your lips. The memory resurfaces, the two of you embarking on a bunny-rescue mission for hours, Jessi withholding the secret of its hiding place. A chuckle escapes you as the camaraderie of that moment echoes in the present.

“Jessi was so mean,” you chuckle, a playful glint in your eyes, “still is,” you add, the laughter intensifying as the enduring nature of her mischief becomes a source of amusement.

Engaging in conversation with Jimin feels remarkably effortless. The dialogue unfolds organically, and you find yourself wondering why you hesitated to talk to him sooner. It seems foolish now, realizing there was no need to be afraid of facing him.

“That she is.” He joins in the laughter, and you catch a glimpse of his slightly crooked teeth.

As you take a moment to study him again, really taking him in this time, you notice the fullness of his lips, the endearing crinkle of his eyes when he laughs, and the way he uses his hands to cover his laughter. He looks good—no, more than that, he's attractive. His sweetness, reminiscent of the kid you remember from years ago, now magnified in the man before you. Doubt creeps in, and you begin to wonder if sleeping with Jungkook was a colossal mistake.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

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