#(flowers if you can’t tell I am ABSOLUTELY loosing my mind again over this)

[megalomaniacz]

SNOW ANGEL

i'll angel in the snow until i'm worthy ❄️

🌨️ but if it kills me i tried

if it kills me ⛸️

pairing: ex!ellie x reader

synopsis: ellie shows up at your door in the dead of winter, years after your break up.

warnings: su!cide attempt, alluding to alcohol addiction, no comfort and no happy ending.

authors note: this is short! i’m on my period rn and i am honestly so devastated for absolutely no reason so i decided to write about it. loosely (completely) based on my very sad experience with an ex. if any of you beautiful people need someone to talk to i am always here. i’m always an option.

you’re everywhere. at the bottom of the bottle, at the bottom of the glass. ellie couldn’t shake you. not even in the winter under the warmth of other girls. that’s why she was knocking at your door tonight. for the first time in months.

well not really. she’s always almost about to knock. almost did last week until she heard you laughing with friends. almost two weeks ago until she heard your drunkenly stumbling around, kissing some girl. always almost, almost always.

but tonight she couldn’t help herself. knuckles burning from the cold outside, she knocks three times. it takes you ten seconds to anwser. she counted while drawing shapes in the snow on your porch railing.

“ellie?” you barely breathe. too much floods your mind at once. a kiss on your neck, flowers on the first date, her smile. her laugh, god you hadn’t heard that in forever.

“come in, you must be freezing.”

do you offer her soup or tea? or maybe the warmth of your heart? the remains of your love laying flat on your bathroom floor? that night, the knife. the pills, the whiskey.

who tries to kill themself with their mother’s switchblade?

“i’ll take the tea thank you.” she blows into her cupped palms, shivering. she looks awful but not drunk. just battling a thought. probably the one telling her to get the hell out of there.

“how’ve you been?” you ask. you’re trying to be polite but it’s fucked to act like you don’t have eyes. even after all these years, she’s still torn. guilt ripping at her from the inside.

“i’ve been pretty good, got a job fixing cars. taking some classes downtown.” she shrugs, looking down at her feet anxiously. she leans onto her left leg, twisting the right in the air slightly.

you sigh. something close to but not quite relief washing over your body. at least she’s busy? you can’t look at her. everytime you see her face you want to break into a slew of tears. hold her, hit her, blame her, apologize. why’d you invite her in again?

“i don’t think i ever said um…” she starts. the tea is screaming on the stovetop. “wait, hold that thought.” you flash a small smile and rush to grab it. she wishes you wouldn’t have. would she have the courage to finish what she was saying when you came back?

the anwser is no. you returned to an empty space in your front entrance. cold air flush from the door. all you want to do is throw the cup at the wall and watch it break into a million pieces. maybe it’ll help the anger. maybe it will mend the tears in your heart. maybe it’ll ease your own guilt, your own ache.

you didn’t understand. she was so happy that week before. you were going to a dinosaur exhibit for her birthday that friday. she was visiting joel’s grave everyday. she was drawing so many pictures of you and the house. you saw her ring shopping online.

what could you have done? how could you have known? could you have known?

[that-golden-lyre]

👁👄👁

How dare you! How dare you @flowerflamestars !!!! After I poured my heart out to you, you just HIT ME IN THE FEELS WITH THIS AGAIN?!?!?!

Im gonna go cry in my fucking corner

Shoreless Sea snippet

Instead, she met her sister’s gaze and saw a stranger. Faelit blue eyes shot through in temper, in magic, silver flame and dancing light, more dawn that drawing fire. Opalescent. Sunrise on serene water, like she’d stolen some more magic to match that pearl smeared all over her body.   Of course she had.   “You,” Feyre swallowed, thick. “You’re been in Summer this whole time. I tried to go there, I tried”-   A gentle frown reshaped Tarquin’s handsome face. “Borders are not flexible. Not after what you took from us.”   The first humiliating, furious tear, ran down Feyre’s nose. “To find Amren. To get back my family.”   Silent, they did not need to speak to carry out the charade, Tarquin twisted and Nesta pulled her leg free. Stood in a slide of soft silk layers, fingertips dancing across Tarquin’s back as he leaned forward and away.   Hand held out between them as she moved, Nesta offered a handkerchief, soft grey fabric forming between seconds.   Feyre fought the urge to take it. To throw it back in her face.   The minute went on and one, before Nesta dropped her hand. Squared those familiar, stubborn shoulders, and went stone still.   Feyre swallowed. “What do you want? For access to the Library?”   “What do I want?” Her voice was a whip crack.   A fresh wash of tears tumbled free. “You’re my sister,” Feyre said, choking on the word, “We need the library. We need- people are dying.”   Nesta did not even blink. It was like the words could not even reach her. “The Library is open to all who do not break its rules.”   She couldn’t-   “Do you want to come home?” Feyre offered, frantic. “Money. Jewels. To be Emissary. Anything, just”-   Very slowly, Tarquin rose to his full height. No true menace in the motion, but something worse. Concern, unhidden, bleeding free, the whole of his attention on Nesta’s bone white, stone cold face. He didn’t try to protect her from Feyre’s anger, painting the air with sparks, rug ruined. Did not even bother to try and end the fight; all Tarquin did was reach for Nesta’s hand, cupped in both of his.   “You would like to be High Lady,” he said, without looking up, Nesta’s unmoving hand a dead thing between the gold adored darkness of his grip, “You only have one job. Take care of your people.”   A thousand miles away, Nesta whispered, “Are they dying? Or are they paying?”   Keir, nothing left of his body but a handful of carved bones. Morrigan’s brothers, cousins, eaten whole. It was only low fae who lived, servants and prisoners fleeing, freed. A wraith who’d spit in Feyre’s face, when she’d promised they’d find her a home.   No High Fae could live through that night.

[mercy-burning]

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

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[lawngnomeofdoom]

Part Six: when I'm near you

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 PT5 PT7

Warning: 18+ Smut!

Summary: Connor and Y/N finally manage to have some alone time together!

A/N: Thanks again to everyone for being so kind toward my writing. In regards to the taglist I feel super slow for not figuring out how to do that yet, so bear with me. I hope you enjoy this sauciest of chapters!

"Some other time” did not arrive as quickly as Connor had been hoping. You were seemingly being pulled in every direction at the station, your expertise becoming a commodity among the other officers. Connor admired your work ethic and your commitment to the other officers, but he couldn’t help but feel annoyed every time he tried to have a moment with you and it was cut short by someone demanding your attention or advice for their case. To make matters worse you would look at him with big puppy dog eyes that screamed, “I’m sorry” and he would make himself smile and tell you that it was alright, that he understood. He expressed his frustration to Hank who simply shrugged and said,

“Well, do something about it then.”

Connor took the advice in stride and came up with a plan. He knew that you usually got up to grab a snack from the kitchen around 2:00 pm, so if he positioned himself in the maintenance closet you passed around that time, he could pull you in for a private moment. Connor waited until he heard your soft footsteps across the tile and then quickly pulled you into the closet before you could process the action. You let out a small yelp but calmed when you saw who had grabbed you.

“Apologies for startling you Y/N, but I find myself displeased with our lack of time together, so I decided to steal you away, at least for a moment,” Connor explained. He noticed that he had you pinned against the wall and released his grip, much to your disappointment.

“I’m sorry we haven’t been spending time together Connor, I’ve just been so swamped.” You sigh and play with the loose strand of hair that falls over his forehead.

“I understand. But perhaps…” Connor says and places a hand over your head and angles his mouth toward yours.

“You can apologize another way.” He finishes eyeing your lips. Your heart begins to beat faster as your lips near his, and you see him smile.

“I sense your heart rate increasing, is that because of me?” He whispers into your ear, causing a shiver down your spine.

“Are you going to kiss me or analyze my vitals?” You tease him, embarrassed. His smile fades and he closes in, his lips on yours now. Connor has a hand on your side, and you feel it tighten as you pull him closer to you by his tie. He moves his lips down your chin and to your neck, forcing you to release a small moan despite your best efforts to remain silent. Connor pulls back for a moment, a satisfied grin across his face. As he goes back for more you put a hand on his chest and hold him at bay.

“Connor, this is…really really nice, but I am not having sex with you in the maintenance closet at work. I mean, at least not the first time.” You tell him regaining your breath. He forces himself back and straightens his tie.

“I didn’t mean to assume…” He starts, but you put a hand up to stop him.

“My place, 8pm, don’t be late.” You say with a wink as you exit the closet.

Connor knocks at your door at 7:55 pm, more purple roses in hand. You throw open the door immediately and pull him inside. He was going to tell you about the flowers, but his mind goes blank when he notices the black lingerie you’re wearing under a short lacey robe. He drops the flowers on your floor and hoists you into his arms.

“Bedroom?” He asks.

“Second door on the right.” You say playing with his hair. As he carries you down the hall you plant light kisses down his neck and revel in his frustrated groans.

“Do you like that?” You whisper into his ear. He quickly makes it into the bedroom and gently lays you down, taking a moment to gaze over you before undressing himself. He throws his suit jacket to the floor and you lick your lips at the sight of him undoing his white button-up, revealing his lean physique underneath. From that moment he looks lost, and you don’t waste a second. You rise and push him to the bed deftly undoing his belt. He looks down at you, his expression a combination of mild terror and excitement as you take hold of his cock and move your hands up and down his shaft, eventually making circles with your tongue around his tip as you do. Connor throws his head back in a tremendous moan, and you decide to push him even further and wrap your lips around him and take as much of him as you can. He softly pats your hair as you do but as you increase speed it changes to a tangled grip in your hair, and he pulls you off.

“That is…more wonderful than I can say. Please, let me return to the favor.” He says and pins you to the bed with ease. He rips your bottoms off and begins to kiss your inner thighs, making you shudder. Finally, he rolls his tongue over your clit, painfully slow and you release an exasperated moan.

“Do you want to cum for me?” He asks, his voice low.

“Yes, please.”

“Keep begging.” He orders and slows his tongue movement; every touch becomes electric as you yearn for more.

“Connor…please…’ You beg and hear him chuckle against your skin. You gasp as you feel him slip a finger inside you, then another along with his tongue, and you can’t help but cum all over his eager licks. You lay there for a moment until he crawls up to you, the smuggest look you’ve ever seen plastered on his face.

“I thought you only used your tongue for police work.” You say between your rapid breaths. He responds by pulling you against him for a kiss, the taste of your climax on his lips.

“I made an exception.” He murmurs, beginning to tease you with the tip of his cock.

“You’re so goddamn wet.” Connor sighs, his grip tightening on your wrist.

“Connor, I want you inside me now,” You groan but he still resists the urge and continues to tease you with a coy smile on his lips. Finally, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him inside of you, making you both gasps.

“Holy shit.” Connor breaths out, his LED flashing rapidly. He manages to contain himself enough to start slow, but as you call out his name again, he thrust faster into you, enjoying the looks of pleasure across your face, all because of him. You tighten your grip around his waist again and flip him around so that you sit on top of him now. You move slowly up and down on his cock, making sure he can see himself going in and out of you.

“Faster.” He commands now, gripping the sheets.

“Beg me.” You whisper and raise yourself up so only his tip brushes against your wetness. Connor releases a frustrated growl and grips your hips, pulling you down onto his cock, making you cry out his name again. You’re moving with each other now as you bounce up and down, your walls tightening around him, he sits up with you, and as you both cum he pulls you in for a kiss. You collapse together on your bed, a mess of pleasure and moans. He lightly strokes your hair, and you listen to the soft pitter-patter of rain on your roof. You crawl up and kiss him softly on the lips, enjoying the way he looks at you like you are absolutely everything.

“Next time, we should try it on a desk.” He smiles.

[gojology]

— Gojo and Nanami | Their Insecurities

pairing : insecure gojo x gender neutral reader, insecure nanami x gender neutral reader warnings : unedited, probably some misspellings, maybe some cursing, i probably dont make sense at all wordcount : 1703 a/n : this is so bad dear god please forgive me for deeming this as content

GOJO SATORU ‧₊˚✩彡.

☆ Gojo’s insecure about his lack of bodyhair. His lack of facial hair and arm hair worries him. Being babyfaced wasn’t something positive in his eyes- no, he wishes he was physically more masculine.

   Your eyes meet his, the sun rays bathing both of you in an orange filtered light. His mouth is slightly opened, skin flush to the touch. After a night of intimacy, your ready for another round, pushing your palm towards his forehead. “Good morning, Satoru.” you say, voice slightly wavering even in the most private presence, without the formalities and what not, he’s surprisingly normal, and it’s taken you a bit to adjust to that. He’s warm, but it’s the good kind of warm, and it shows on his silly, dopey smile.

    You guess it wasn’t the time for more sex, so you resist your urges, directing the energy to something else.

    Gradually, your palms find themselves on his cheeks, and you pinch them slightly, giving him a look you hope is loving- because you really do mean it. Your rest assured, as the curve to his swollen lips grew even wider. The sounds of bird chirped as your fingers danced across his jawline, finally at your final stop, his chin. 

    You tip his chin up, and sure enough, hickeys are adorning his neck. A feeling of joy and honor fills you for a brief second, you were the one that was allowed to see him vulnerable, given the pass into his locked up heart. He finally breaks the silence between the two of you, pushing away your slack hand delicately. 

    It’s peculiar, there’s a tremble to his lips, like he’s scared, or about to burst into a fit of tears. You think it should be the other way around, but here you were, arms held close to your chest, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, bated breath preventing you from questioning the sudden change in tone. 

    “Hey, um, Y/N, weird ass question, but, am I hairy? Like, wooly mammoth hairy?” 

    You can’t tell if it’s sarcasm or not.

    Trying not to make a face, you shrug your shoulders. “Well, I mean, not really. You’re actually pretty nonhairy, in terms of uh... The average-” you pause, realizing how drastically his face fell. “-But I do like non-hairy guys! Who would wanna date a wooly mammoth anyways? Hey, baby..” you coo, giving him a tiny peck on the cheek, fluttering your eyelashes.     “What’s this about? Hey, you know, you can just be straightforward with me, I don’t mind.” 

    He doesn’t take a moment of hesitation, exasperatedly blurting out, “Does my lack of.. Hair, bother you?” but it seems he regrets it, your cheeks puffing up, stifling a giggle. Yet, he maintains the bone-chilling eye contact, his eyes are as vivid as ever, so blue it looked like the entrance to heaven. Your immediately lulled, whatever he was going to say was definitely urgent.

    “W-What? Are you being serious?” covering your mouth, your voice is muffled, but his face looks absolutely terrified, and you relish in how funny he looked. It wasn’t everyday that he was genuinely frightened, well, maybe he didn’t show it often.    “Of course not! Why would I be even remotely worried about bodyhair when I have something way more eye-catching in front of me?”

    The shock turns into a sheepish smile, returning for a second time, your heart melting instantly. He takes a long, deep breath, exhaling the tension away, tugging at the covers to go over his chest. You hadn’t realized that he had stolen more than half of the blanket for himself, but you don’t make a fuss about it. 

    For all the weight he carried on his sagging shoulders, you’re sure the warmth is appreciated. 

NANAMI KENTO ‧₊˚✩彡.

☆ Nanami thinks he’s a boring person, through and through. Outside of work, he doesn’t see why anyone would want him. Some days, he wonders if he should pick up on Gojo’s personality, telling jokes and being sarcastic and what not.

   The fine, white porcelain Nanami had gifted you was beautiful, to say the least. Nanami frequently shone it until it glimmered in the light, wiping any smudge or speck of dirt that dared to get on his beloved tea set that he gifted to you a few months prior. Gold trim, alongside depictions of birds fluttering about, and your favorite flowers. It’s perfect for you, and that’s why he had gotten it. His eyes had instantly brightened, picturing your beaming face as you served the two of you some tea.

   But he wonders, would you be happier if he perhaps gifted you something more up to date in comparison to the porcelain? He had enough money to buy you the world, bags, jewelry, he’d often used to hear stories of his co-workers giving their wives expensive, well, anything, and they’d be over the moon. A sudden realization grew inside of him at the thought of this:    

   Was he too out-of-date?    

   The thought went rampant in his usually collected mind, twisting and turning at night, only the sound of you, deep in sleep, could calm the troubled man down. As a consequence to his overthinking, he got little to no rest, and if he got little to no rest, his eyebags would turn their ugly, sneering faces in his direction.

     And so, as he’s baking tea cakes to go along with the afternoon tea the two of you would routinely drink, he’s going deep into depth of himself. He’s a good worker, good at...

     What was he good at? Aside from work, he can’t see why he’d be of use. Nanami acknowledges he’s stoic, which may be good in some cases, but often, everyone runs away from him because he appears as scary with those cold, calculating eyes. As opposed to Gojo, everyone enjoyed how lenient of a teacher he was. Well, Nanami isn’t sure on that, maybe aside from Megumi, Nobara, and Yuuji, everyone hated that. Regardless, him and Gojo don’t share something in common.

     Gojo has humor, and he doesn’t. 

     So why did you like him? 

     Nanami’s subconsciously drumming his long, bony fingers against the counter, eyes studying the ceiling like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Steadily, an acrid smell completely overwhelmed your senses- now, you’re hacking into your arm, and finally, Nanami comes back to Earth. 

     He blinks a few times, like he’s drinking in his surroundings, before he realizes the tea cakes are completely burning into a crisp.

Now, he’s on heightened alert, yanking open the handle to the oven and fanning out the flames with a random oven mitt he had hastily grabbed for. Beads of sweat are developing on his skin, before finally, you rush in, still hacking up a storm with a large pot of freezing water in your shaking hands.

     Nanami curses himself for ever appearing as informal, but then he remembers he’s infront of his significant other, he didn’t have to put on an act. His face relaxes, and he opens his mouth to speak, to apologize, but he’s paused- by you. You raise your palm up at him, the other hand opening up a window looking over the garden.

      “Nana.” he freezes completely, the affectionate nickname was specially reserved for confrontations like this. You spoke softly, which, for some reason, was significantly worse than you screaming into his ear. Your eyes follow suit, staring at his collar, loosening his tie. He winces, but Nanami’s not sure why he does. You had touched him millions of times, so why was it now that he didn’t accept it?

     “Yes, my love?” he finally breathes out, wrapping a strong, gentle arm around your waist just loosely. You place your thumb just below his lower lip, your index finger rubbing his plush lips all at the same time. The exchange is purely affectionate, yet, he’s still tense. 

    “What has gotten into you?” you murmur. 

    “I- Nothing, darling, I’ll bake another-” 

    “No.” is all you say before you grab him by the chin, unwavering. Usually, those piercing eyes of his are emotionless, something shocking. The eyes are the gateway to the soul, so why is it that it’s blocked off? But you guess it wasn’t the case here, he stared back with the same level of intensity, fear and peculiarity. You stay in that position for a little, savoring just how much you must mean to him, it wasn’t everyday he was vulnerable and let you inside.      Your breathing is heavy, eyelids heavy as well due to his routinely ruckus every night, but you’re determined to erase any trace there was left of that.       You kiss him. It’s sloppy, yet chaste. A fight for dominance usually occurs between the two of you, and almost routinely, Nanami wins, but this time, he lets you do the work. 

   Your lips never once trail away from his own. Heavy breathing through nostrils, hands roaming where it shouldn’t at such an early time, but who gave a fuck about the rules? It wasn’t a workplace, and you’d never let it be one. He clings onto your figure, you savor his muscular physique. Not once do his hands not roam, your flesh was his, and his was yours. 

    Finally, you pull away, heat rising to your cheeks, tears are beginning to dawn on your glassy eyes. “I’ve listened to you roll around in bed every night, mumbling shit about how you don’t see why I’d want you. You better donate your eyes and brain to charity right now.” 

   This wasn’t the reaction, or beatdown he was expecting. He flinches at the vivid image he got of you gouging out his eyeballs. “...Why must I do that? 

   “Because, you don’t use them, obviously. If you took a fucking second of your life to look deeper into your personality below the surface level, you’d see how fucking amazing you are and I love you for that.” 

   Shaking your head furiously, you shush him up yet again when he finally decides to speak up, tears are beginning to spill down your cheeks. “Shut up, Nana. Shut. Up.” pulling him in for another kiss, your hands grabbing at his shoulder like he was going to let go. 

   But he never did. 

[dancingazaleas]

jean kirstein | primrose

i love him so much

y’all can’t see it but i am crying

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL HIMBO

note: this is unedited

warnings/notes: artist!jean, college au!, gardener!reader, cursing, jean’s in love, nsfw, smut, praise, fingering, soft sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, flower language.

jean wouldn’t say he was popular by any means.

everyone knew of him, but it’s not like they actively tried to befriend him or get to know him. he only really talked to the people in his friend group, and even then it was quite spread out. meaning, there were friend groups inside the friend group. jean doesn’t necessarily understand, but he’ll take what he can get.

jean mostly stayed alone on campus, none of his friends were artists. sasha was in a florist course—or something, jean never hears her speak about it—marco was majoring in nursing along with psychology, and connie was... well... connie? jean knew that connie had classes, but he didn’t even know what they were along with his major.

this meant that jean had no friends in his art classes. he wasn’t upset about it though, he always preferred to keep in his bubble. it only really got annoying whenever the professors would give them group projects.

jean’s sighing while he checks his phone, a text message from sasha that says she’s at the campus’s greenhouse finishing up an assignment. jean and sasha usually hang out until three together, waiting for connie and marco to get out of their own classes.

he grunts as he sets off to the greenhouse, not looking forward to the humidity that awaits him outside of the building. the professor made them work in the sprinkling rain?

jean pulls out an umbrella whenever he gets outside. shivering at the almost dramatic temperature drop whenever he steps outside. he trudges through the soggy grass, ignoring the squelching of his shoes and the water.

“where are you,” he asks whenever he steps inside of the greenhouse, closing his umbrella and inhaling the different smells.

the greenhouse is empty besides one person, sitting on their knees as they fill a hole with soil gently.

“huh? did you need something,” you ask as you pull your gaze away from the plant, eyebrows furrowed.

jean feels his face flush, “oh! i’m sorry... my friend said she was here but you’re the only one who’s here.”

you blink and stare, which makes jean sweat. you light up with realization, “you’re talking about sasha right? if so, she’s here still, just needed to use the bathroom in the next building over.”

he utters a thanks while you get back to your work, awkwardly loitering by the door as a way to wait for his friend.

“wh-what’s your name,” he stutters to you, cringing at how his voice echoes against the glass of the building.

“i’m (name) (last name). you?”

“j..jean kirstein. nice to meet you,” he nods with a gulp.

“not to be offensive, and even if i say that, it might be, but you don’t exactly look like a horticultural major. what are you majoring in,” you’ve not looked up from the plant you’re caring for.

“i’m an art major,” he spits out.

you pause your movements and look up to the window for a moment, relaxed smile on your face.

“funny,” you shrug and go back to your task, “i don’t think i’ve ever painted before.”

he relaxes his tense shoulders, shock written all over his pretty face, “you’ve never painted?!”

“nope.”

“what about when you were a kid?”

“no, my parents didn’t approve of messes along with anything that wasn’t proven to meet their standards,” your bottom lip juts out from concentration.

“i see,” he hums, but he really doesn’t. his mother’s always been so supportive of him and whatever he’s chose to do with his life, and still he treated her horribly when he was younger.

“what’s this project even about,” he asks, walking closer to observe your craft.

“sasha and i have to try and grow strawberries on their own... it may not seem too difficult, but strawberries are an absolute pain to maintain care for,” you sigh with disappointment, “but i’m not working on that for right now, i’m just planting for now.”

“what are you planting?” jean’s sure that you’re becoming annoyed with him and all of the questions he’s asking.

you smile a bit, “lilac.”

jean can’t see exactly how that makes you happy or flustered, but considering you’re the expert and he isn’t, he’s not gonna ask. he goes to open his mouth once more, but the greenhouse door creaking open interrupts him.

“sorry jean! there was this long line in the girl’s bathroom,” sasha blurts as she shuffles into the room and shakes the rain off of her shoes.

“it’s fine, don’t worry,” he holds up a hand snd shakes his head.

“oh! (name), you’re still here,” she asks whenever she steps closer.

“yea, just felt like gardening,” you place the pot down gently and look up to her from your place on the floor.

“what’re you plantin’?”

“lilac,” jean answers for her and is once again struck by confusion whenever sasha’s cheeks light up as a smile stretches across her face.

he looks back to you to find you glaring at sasha with a secret knowledge.

“what? what’s so weird about it,” he asks, looking between you two.

“nothing nothing, jeanie boy! c’mon, i want a burger,” she giggles as she waves her hand up and down, turning around to go out of the door.

“didn’t niccolo feed you earlier,” he scoffs, following behind.

“yeah! he made me lobster. anyways, bye (name)!” she grins as she opens the door after taking jean’s umbrella.

jean fusses over her lack of care as he snatches his umbrella back from her and puts it over the both of them. briefly, his mind wonders back to you.

————

next time jean sees you, you’re looking quite frustrated and upset as you shovel dirt into a an empty pot. sasha is, once again, going to the bathroom in the building over.

“are you alright,” he’s hesitant.

you jump up, not even noticing him once he’d walked in. you relax while you sigh, eyebrows bunching up in frustration.

“i’m okay,” it seems you’re telling yourself this more than you tell jean, “my parents are just being upsetting.”

jean gets a text from sasha, telling him that she’s going to go to the bathroom in the main building since the line was too long. he doesn’t care for some reason, instead taking a seat beside you on the ground.

“wanna talk about it,” he asks, his body warm next to your’s.

you sigh for the umpteenth time, “we’ve only met once and i’d feel as if i would be dumping this onto you.”

“i don’t mind. if you don’t want to speak about it, i won’t force you,” he shrugs.

“well,” you start with reluctance, “my family’s always been judgmental of how i should be allowed to spend my time. not only that, but careers, interests, and friends.”

“and i assume they’ve said something about your major,” he assumes, slightly sad as you nod.

“bingo. they don’t think it’s sophisticated enough for me, but i’m not too sophisticated myself. i’m barely an adult, i’ve just turned 19. why they won’t let me be a kid is beyond me,” you gently lay the seed into the soil of the pot.

“i’ve never had this issue, so i can’t say that i completely understand or that what i say will help. however, good parents shouldn’t treat their child like that. you’re your own person, they shouldn’t be trying to limit you and your experiences. it’s not fair to you,” he says, “you’re parents are ignorant.”

you stifle a laugh, “thank you, jean. i appreciate it, genuinely.”

his cheeks flush as he nods, telling you that it was just something a friend would do for another.

“what’s your instagram,” you ask, swiftly pulling your phone from your pocket and pulling up the app.

he tells you nervously, three dings emitting from his phone in his pocket. one follow, one like, and one message.

jean finds himself texting you at nine pm.

————

jean finds himself giddy a few months later. he’s talked to you nonstop ever since he’s gotten your instagram, easily falling for you as he learns more about you.

he’s teaching you how to paint today. or, not really teach, but just helping you get started.

he sits on his couch while he waits, opting to watch some k-drama that connie recommend to him. he tells you that you can just walk in since the door’s unlocked, but jean has a feeling you would’ve just walked in anyways.

he hugs you excitedly whenever you walk in, leading you over to one of the easel and canvases he’s set up for you. he looks at your outfit.

“you’re wearing that?” he asks, not really thinking before he speaks.

“yea...? gotta problem with it,” you’re immediately defensive, and it has jean bouncing back with realization.

“oh my god, i meant you’re wearing that to paint? you’re outfit looks good on you! it’s cute! n-not to say that you’re cute or anything! er—i don’t mean that you’re not cute!” jean flushes, “i am... going to stop talking..”

you giggle at him, “it’s okay jean, i know what you mean.”

“o-okay,” he relaxes, “do you need to borrow any clothes? i don’t want your shirt to get dirtied.”

“just a shirt, your pants wouldn’t fit me,” you ask while you untuck your loose white button up from your jeans.

he scurries off to find you a shirt, slapping himself on the forehead in embarrassment. he grabs you a light grey shirt with paint splotches scattered on it, which he’s once painted a mural in.

he turns his back to you whenever he gives you the shirt, instead focusing on the collection of painting supplies he’s set out on his work tray. he’s chosen acrylics for you, claiming that they’re the easiest to do if you’re a beginner. you have a feeling that he’s lying, especially since he’s an art major.

“are we painting anything specific,” you ask and sit down on the stool provided for you.

“actually, i was thinking of letting you choose. maybe some flowers or plants since they help you relax,” he contemplates aloud, hand pressed to his chin.

“let’s paint a sunflower,” you say reluctantly, “they should be easy enough to paint.”

he nods, starting put small spurts of paint onto his pallet. you mimic his actions, carefully stroking the canvas with your paintbrush.

“relax your shoulders,” he suggests, noticing just how stiff you are, “if you’re too stiff then the painting will be too. this is about relaxing.”

“i just don’t want to make any mistakes.”

“hey, like bob ross always says; there are no mistakes, just happy accidents,” jean gives a lazy smile as he continues to paint.

you laugh at him, finally relaxing your body and brushing the brush across the canvas. you both chat absentmindedly as you paint, finding comfort in one another’s voice and movements. you’re both playing 20 questions, if you can call a conversation that.

“the most embarrassing thing... probably walking in on my friends having sex,” he briefly remembers his friend, bertholdt, on top of reiner, “it’s how they came out to me.”

you cackle, “oh my god!! they must’ve been mortified!!”

“they were, i felt so bad for walking in on them. now, it’s a funny joke since they’re both out to everyone,” he snickers, “now, where’s your favorite place on earth that you’ve been to?”

“a amusement park over in marley. snuck off with my first ever boyfriend there,” you stroke your brush once more, “or maybe the swimming pool in my parents house. anywhere that i can feel weightless.”

he hums in acknowledgment, “mine’s out in the forest probably. i like it quiet.”

“quiet is always nice. so, jean, have you ever had a girlfriend,” you laugh at jean’s face scrunch up from a childish question.

“yeah, i’ve had one. it went really well at first but it turns out that she likes girls. it hurt at first, cause i loved her, but i got over it. i’ve got no hard feelings against her, she can’t help liking girls. her and i are just really close friends now,” he has a fond smile on his face as he thinks of mikasa.

“i’m glad the two of you are still friends, and i’m sure that she appreciates your kindness to her,” you reciprocate a smile.

“me too. anyways, since you want to dive into my love life, let’s dive into your’s. have you ever been in love?”

you face heats up while you pause your movements, “y-yeah. not until recently though.”

jean’s eyes widen as his own cheeks flush a bright red, and for once he prays.

he prays that it’s him you’re in love with.

————

a month later and you still have the painting of a sunflower that jean did. it makes you embarrassed every time you look at it, even though jean didn’t know the meaning behind the flower.

you sit on the floor of the greenhouse, ignoring how the rain thumps gently on the glass roof. jean’s sitting beside you, leaning all of his weight on your body, which makes you laugh.

“you never told me what you’re planting,” he points out while adding more of his weight onto you.

you laugh while you shove him off of you, “i can’t with you on me like that.”

“well, now i’m not on you so,” he grins cockily, and you want to smack it off of him.

“okay, okay! i’m planting a primrose,” you say while you gently plant a seed into the soil.

“what’s the occasion?”

“what do you mean,” you raise a questioning eyebrow.

“my dad always got my mom those flowers on valentine’s day or for their anniversary. now, my mom puts them on his grave. it means ‘i can’t live without you’ or symbolizes young love,” he explains, “who’re they for?”

embarrassment hits you like truck. you were planting these for jean. whenever they were blooming, you were going to give them to him. thank god you didn’t.

you laugh nervously, “no one! i just felt like planting them! they’re pretty flowers.”

“whatever you say,” jean shrugs, heart tingling with pain.

whenever the flowers had bloomed, you stood at jean’s doorstep with the pot in your hands. your cheeks were hot as you stared at your feet, hoping to god that jean felt the same way towards you.

when jean opens his door, he doesn’t expect to see you holding the potted plant. you’d told him that it wasn’t for anyone and it wasn’t for him, so why’d you have it. did you want him to take care of it or something?

“for you,” you stumble over your words a bit while you thrust the pot against his chest.

it’s his turn to be embarrassed, these are for him! the flower is so pretty, full bloom and showing itself off towards the sun. jean hurries to place the pot on his living room coffee table, then he pounces.

his arms wrap around you and hold you close, his face is emitting a heat when he pulls away to look at you.

“me too,” you look at him confused, “i love you too.”

you feel like crying, for some reason this means the absolute world to you. you wrap your arms around his neck, not able to hold back the tears forming in your eyes.

“why didn’t you tell me sooner,” he laughs while squeezing you tight.

“i did,” your laughter is muffled until he pulls away.

“when?”

“since we met. granted, i didn’t expect to meet you that day. lilac means the start of a new love. and then i told you again when you painted the sunflower again. sunflowers mean pure love,” you wipe away tears as jean pulls you inside his house by your hand.

“i’m such an idiot,” he smacks a palm to his forehead, “that’s what you and sasha were laughing about when we met, wasn’t it?”

“yea,” you watch him lead you to his bedroom, somewhere that you’ve been to on many occasions.

he crawls into bed beside you, pulling you closer to him—if it were even possible. he’s littering your face with soft kisses that tickle your skin and make you giggle.

“what are you doing?!”

“i’ve been wanting to do this since i’ve met you, give me a break,” he mumbles against your skin, lips finally making contact with your’s.

the kiss is sweet like candy, and you almost can’t take it. you deepen the kiss without hesitation, surprising jean, who obviously reciprocates. you whimper against jean’s mouth whenever you grant him access to explore your own.

he pulls away, a shy look in his eyes that tells you exactly what he’s thinking.

“yes, jean. as long as you’re gentle,” you put a hand on top his cheek, stroking it gently.

he smiles before asking his next question shyly, “could we... do a different position? one that isn’t missionary.”

“jean, i’ve only had sex a few times. all were in missionary and were hookups. as long as it’s with you, i don’t mind what we do,” you reassure, scooting closer to him.

he’s surprised that his face doesn’t burst into flames, at this point.

“okay... could you... turn around,” your face twists into confusion, “you’ll find out.”

it sounds ominous, but since it’s jean, you don’t mind. you turn your back to him, shivering whenever his lips kiss at the nape of your neck. his chest presses against your back and he slips one of his arms under the arm against the bed.

his lips bite on your neck while his hands sliver their way up to your boobs. you sit up for a moment, pulling the loose shirt you were wearing off of your body. you shimmy your pants off while you’re at it, easily flopping back into jean’s arms.

god, he’s so close to fainting just from seeing you without clothes. especially when he realizes that you’re not wearing a bra.

his hands grope at your chest, rolling your nipples through his nimble fingers. you whimper shyly, hand coming up to grab at his own.

“cute,” he smiles whenever you look over your shoulder, the same hand drifting from your tit to the waistline of your panties.

his hand reaches inside your hand plain underwear as you willingly spread your legs open, something you’re secretly embarrassed about, but you decide to ignore it anyways. with hesitance, his fingertip comes in contact with your clit. you flinch at the contact and let out a gasp, once again squeezing at his hand.

“spread your legs wider for me, love,” he murmurs in your ear, nudging his wrist against your thigh.

you oblige silently, hooking your foot around the back of jean’s knee.

“good girl,” he smiles, two fingers gently pressing against your clit after he’s wet them with his spit.

you moan out whenever jean starts rubbing lazy circles into your clit and his other hand gropes at your tit. your hips buck forward on instinct, which has you biting your lip from embarrassment.

“can you try to keep your hips still for me,” he kisses at your earlobe, stubble scratching against your neck.

you nod to him, even if you both know that you won’t uphold that promise.

whenever his fingers move up a speed, so does the volume of your moans.

“jean,” you whimper, “i’m gonna cum.”

“it’s okay, you’ve been so good for me, my pretty girl. go ahead and cum,” he smiles against your skin, once again speeding up his tempo.

your nails are biting into his wrist as your hips start to buck almost uncontrollably. your head is thrown back while you open your mouth in a silent scream and your eyes roll back. jean slows his pace, helping you ride out your orgasm.

his smile stretches wider when he holds his fingers up to the light, admiring how the digits glistened in against the early morning sun peeking through the curtains. he also manages to take off your panties.

he puts the two fingers in your mouth once he’s done admiring them, cooing praises in your ear. a string of salvia is connect to his fingertips whenever he pulls them out of your mouth, making you whine in embarrassment. he chuckles and reaches his warm hand back down to your wet cunt.

you gasp at the coldness of your spit coming into contact with your heated entrance. his fingers enter you slowly and cautiously and it takes your breath away.

“you’re so tight,” still smiling, “when’s the last time you’ve gotten laid, pretty girl?”

“f-fuck... maybe like... six months ago,” you pant like a dog in heat.

“it’s good thing you’ve got me now, huh? gonna take care of you now.”

you’re squeezing your pretty eyes closed while you adjust to the feeling of two fingers inside of you. jean feels himself memorizes the look on your face in his brain whenever he gives a shallow thrust with his fingers. you wiggle your hips a bit, whining out for jean to give you more.

he does exactly that.

he starts to finger you slowly, eventually speeding up the speed as you get more and more used to the feeling. his fingers curl against your sweet spot that has you bucking your hips once again.

“there! there,” you buck again when he continues to brush over it.

angling his fingers just right, he starts to thrust and curl his fingers inside of you at the perfect speed.

“fuck! fuck! fuck!” you gasp whenever your toes start to curl.

“are you gonna cum again? it’s okay. go ahead and cum on my fingers, pretty girl,” he reassures while pecking at your neck lazily.

you come once again after a few seconds pass, legs shaking when jean doesn’t slow down his speed.

“can’t...! i can’t cum again,” you whimper while arching your back against jeans torso.

“i know you can,” he whispers, “gotta prepare you for my cock, remember?”

his filthy words make you mewl as you feel yourself already approaching another orgasm quickly. you scream whenever you orgasm again, hips jerking back and forth wildly as his other hand starts rubbing on your puffy little clit.

you’re crying from the intensity. you’re sure that if you’d be able to take all of this if you had fucked anyone these past six months.

instead of slowing down, jean actually speeds up his movements again. you know that you’re mascara might be smearing, you can’t remember if it’s waterproof, tear proof—what the fuck ever.

your legs convulse when jean manages to work you up to another mind blowing orgasm. but this time, you squirt all over jean’s hand and the insides of your plump thighs.

“there we go,” he praises, “that’s what i needed.”

he’s finally slowing his fingers down, and you wonder if they’re aching at the moment.

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” you babble as your nails scratch at his wrist.

“such a sweet girl, thanking me when i haven’t even trained you.”

your chest is heaving up and down while jean pulls his cock out of his pants, a moment’s rest.

you gulp whenever you see his dick. you didn’t believe sasha’s jokes whenever she said jean not only had a horse face but also a horse cock. how she knew, you didn’t ask, but either way she was right. you’d have to apologize to sasha for not heeding her warnings after this.

“don’t be scared, love. i’ll take care of you,” he comforts you while pulling your leg up a bit.

his fingers squeeze at the soft flesh that’s the back of your thigh, instructing you on how to insert himself in your tight little pussy.

after guiding jean’s cock in you, you sob out from just how much he fills you up already. you don’t take a pause, too eager to feel jean inside of you.

noticing this, jean hooks his arm around your thigh and grabs your hand. the angle has his hitting spots that he hadn’t before, pussy fluttering around his cock in effect.

“be patient,” he demands in a soft tone, his hand guiding your own, “i don’t want to hurt you.”

“don’t care, need you so bad,” you sniffle and wiggle your hips once more, ignoring the slight burn.

sighing, jean carefully thrusts the rest of his cock inside of you. you sob out in both pleasure and pain, hand now going back to scratching at his wrist.

“i told you, sweet girl,” you look at him from over your shoulder, “you gotta listen to me.”

“‘m sorry,” you whimper while jean kisses away a tear.

“t’s okay, now just wait until your comfortable,” he advises, unhooking his arm from your thigh and holding it with his hand.

it takes a minute or two, but jean is nothing but attentive during this. thumb stroking your thigh, lips kissing your neck and cheek, whispering quietly in your ear that you’re doing so well.

when you’re ready, he thrusts into you softly. he doesn’t want to hurt you, even when his dick hurts from not cumming. after seeing you’re alright with it, he thrusts more vigorously. with your skin slapping against one another’s tenderly and tits bouncing jean is groaning in your ear.

the hand not holding your thigh holds onto your boob, pinching your nipple and then rolling it in between his fingers again. the kisses he’s pressing against your shoulder feels so hot and sweet against your sweaty skin.

your whines and moans are so cute, begging for jean to cum at the same time you do and for him to come inside.

“you want my cum in you,” he pants, “anything you want since you’ve asked so nicely.”

he speeds his hips up just a bit, guttural groans coming from his throat as your pussy grips him like a vise.

“gonna cum, gonna cum,” you’re mewling almost makes jean black out.

“i’m right behind you, go ahead, love,” his eyebrows bunch together as he nears his orgasm.

after two more thrusts, the both of you are coming. jean’s groans are surprisingly starting to turn into soft moans, which is something you’ll try to get out of him another time.

after you both come down from your high, jean’s pulling his softening dick out of you. he lays on his backside, pulling your weak body on top of his chest with ease.

“love you,” he smiles and gives you a kiss.

“primrose love,” you smile goofily at him.

“primrose love.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 301: All My Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: We learned that when a bunch of superpowered villains are suddenly set loose with nobody around to stop them, things get fucked pretty quickly. Old Man Samurai and a bunch of other useless people decided to make “I pretend I do not see it” their new mantra, and resigned. Endeavor had a moment of despair on account of being crushed by the guilt of having ruined the lives of himself, his family, and basically everyone else in the entire world. For various reasons the heretical notion of “person who has done bad things feels sorry for doing them” sent fandom spiraling into a meltdown, so that was fun. The chapter ended with the entire Todoroki clan descending upon Enji’s hospital room to have a dramatic chat about Touya and All That General Fuckery.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “here’s the story of how Baby Touya slowly went insane trying to win his father’s love.” It’s a tale full of subverted expectations and heartbreaking inevitability, and also like twenty panels of the cutest fucking kids who ever existed on planet earth, who are so fucking cute that I can’t stop thinking about their cuteness even with all of the horrifying family tragedy unfolding around them. It is absolutely ridiculous how cute they are. Touya is out here pushing his tiny body past its limits because he inherited the same obsession as his dad and neither of them can put it aside even though it’s destroying them, and yet all I can think about is Baby Shouto’s (。･o･｡) face. Anyways what a chapter.

so I have to confess that even though I managed to avoid being caught off-guard by the early leaks, the number of people reblogging my Endeavor posts from earlier this week and using the tag “bnha 301” kind of gave me an inkling that this chapter will include more Tododrama lol. that said, I don’t know anything else about it, so we’re still good spoiler-wise

AHHHHH FLAHSBAKC AHHHH. omg I know I typoed the shit out of that, but I’m just going to leave it lol I think it’s fitting

holy shit holy fuck. so this is Rei and Enji’s first meeting, then??

yepppp, oh shit

so wait, I know this is not even the slightest bit important, but are they meeting at Enji’s home or Rei’s? because I always figured that Enji was the one with the super-Japanese aesthetic, but maybe that was Rei’s side of the family all along

(ETA: from what I found during my very brief google search, omiai meetings are often held at fancy hotels or restaurants, so maybe that’s what this is.)

there’s such a period drama feel to this setting. like it’s so outrageously formal fff how can anyone stand this kind of atmosphere though seriously

OH THANK GOD

I mean they’re still stiff af but at least they’re not rigidly sitting in seiza and staring at each other unblinkingly anymore lol. Enji’s actually got his hands in his pockets now. why is this somehow almost cute

oh damn it’s the flowers

Rei seems so subdued and it’s so hard to get any idea of what she’s actually thinking. I want to see her side of this dammit

but anyway, so at least from Enji’s perspective it seems like even though the marriage was arranged and he picked her because of her quirk, he still loved his wife and wanted to do right by her. the fact that he was watching her and noticed that she liked the flowers, and remembered that detail for all these years -- there’s a reason why Horikoshi’s showing us this. we know what’s going to happen later on; we know how much fear and violence and breaking of trust is coming up ahead, and while it may seem like this scene is serving to soften Enji’s character further -- which to be fair it is -- it also helps drive home the full impact of his abuse. that it’s so terrible not only because of the trauma of the abuse itself, but also because of the way it retroactively destroys all of the good things as well. this could have potentially been such a sweet scene, but it’s inescapably tainted by the knowledge of what’s to come, at least for me. and that’s just brutal

anyways, shit. is the whole chapter going to be like this?? feel free to toss in something I can actually make a joke about sometime, Horikoshi

oop, back to the present

omfg lol

“are you all right” “NO I’M NOT ALL RIGHT WHAT THE FUCK.” “oh, right, because of all the stuff that’s happened with me abusing you and you having a mental breakdown and being hospitalized for ten years and then our son coming back to life and killing thirty people, right, right. I almost forgot.” whoops

omfg you guys I’m loving this new and improved steely-eyed Rei. I’m loving her a lot

and what do you mean “part one” fkjds how long is this going to be. TOO MUCH DRAMA FOR ONE CHAPTER TO HANDLE

oh, hello

yeah I’ll say you did. didn’t seem to bother you much at the time, though

HMMMMMMMMMMMM

Dabi Is A Noumu intensifies even further. anyways though would you fucking look at this boy lounging on this moth-eaten couch doing his best DRAW ME LIKE YOUR FRENCH GIRLS impression wtf

Dabi what if you actually had killed him??? what would you feel?? satisfaction?? regret?? anything at all?? tell me your secrets goddammit

who are you talking to buddy

Fuyumi-chan, Natsu-kun (is it common for brothers to address each other as -kun?? can’t recall seeing that in many other anime, but hey), and “dot dot dot,,,,,, SHOUTO” lol thank you so much for this bountiful heaping of Tododrama Horikoshi we are blessed

AH, WHAT DID I SAY THE OTHER DAY

ULTIMATE MELODRAMATIC THEATER CHILD. “I’M JUST GOING TO LIE ON THIS COUCH SHIRTLESS AND ALONE AND MAKE SPEECHES TO MY FAMILY MEMBERS WHO AREN’T THERE AND SAY THINGS LIKE ‘WATCH ME IN THE PITS OF HELL’ WITH A STRAIGHT FACE BECAUSE NO ONE’S THERE TO JUDGE ME.” WELL JOKE’S ON YOU MISTER CHATTERBOX BECAUSE I AM IN FACT JUDGING THE SHIT OUT OF YOU LOL

(ETA: and on a more serious note, it’s interesting to see that “look at me”/”watch me” theme being used again though, because we see that same sentiment uttered repeatedly by the younger Touya in the flashback. well kid, you definitely got your wish at last. don’t know what else to say.)

OKAY HORIKOSHI HAS DECIDED THAT’S ENOUGH FUN, TIME FOR MORE FLASHBACKS

oh my sweet precious lord

just as cute as we left him. giving us a child this cute when we all know full well what’s going to happen to him is just unspeakably cruel though

HOMG

I’m fucking speechless. you broke me, congratulations. what am I even supposed to do with this

I can’t get over this. moving forward my life will be split into two distinct parts, B.P. (Before the Pout) and A.P. (After the Pout)

and meanwhile there’s ALL THIS BACKGROUND ANGST BUILDING UP, AND I CAN’T EVEN FOCUS ON IT. Touya’s arm and cheek are covered in bandages (I’m guessing this is shortly after that “ouch!” panel we got some chapters back), and Enji is deliberately avoiding training with him because he doesn’t want him to hurt himself further. I can’t fucking get over the irony that all this time everyone thought Touya had died because Enji pushed him too far in his training, and it turns out that it’s the opposite -- the tragedy ultimately happened because he didn’t want to push him. but I’m jumping ahead of myself though I guess

by the way,

remember this?? just wanted to remind you that it exists just in case you forgot

so now someone is talking and basically saying that Touya is the exact opposite of what Enji was hoping for when he decided to start playing with quirk genetics

-- okay hold up

...lol no, never mind. for a second I thought “holy shit he looks kind of familiar WHAT IF IT’S UJIKO OMG” before I remembered that Enji would have recognized him during the hospital capture mission if that was the case. so NEVER MIND, PROCEED

IMAGINE THAT, ENJI DOESN’T QUITE SEEM SATISFIED WITH THIS SUGGESTION OF QUITTING NOW

(ETA: how the fuck did this man go around saving 62 towns in a single day what even is All Might.)

[clicks tongue several times] trouble a’brewin’

MEANWHILE BABY TOUYA HAS UNFORTUNATELY INHERITED HIS DAD’S STUBBORN STREAK

KLDIHWOEIJFL:KSDJ

!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god. oh my god. what is this chapter. WHAT IS IT

so now Touya is all “YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND MY MANLY DESIRE TO BURN MYSELF ALIVE” well you got her there champ

THEY’RE TOO CUTE. OH MY GOD. HIS FURIOUS LITTLE TEARS. HER CHUBBY LIL FACE. HIS STUBBY LIL FISTS. SOMEONE HELP ME

also are they just home alone lol or what. “hey Touya, you’re what, like six now?? do us a favor and look after your baby sister for a couple hours for us would you? make sure not to set yourself on fire or anything.” WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG!!

now it’s nighttime and Enji and Rei are arguing, presumably about his decision not to train Touya anymore

whew. okay. so, a couple of things here

1. first of all I think this conclusively shows that Enji really was trying to do the best he could for Touya. he stopped training him as soon as he realized it was hurting him, but Touya was still determined so he tried to make it work anyway, and even visited doctors to try and figure out if there was anything they could do. then, once they were absolutely sure that it wasn’t going to work, he tried multiple times to explain to Touya why they had to stop. he didn’t just abandon him out of the blue, which is really important to note. “no matter how much I tried telling him...”

so yeah, that debunks another common fandom accusation. so by the time he finally makes this decision, which we all know is going to turn out horribly, it’s basically because he’s already tried everything else he could think of. which, by the way, still doesn’t mean he handled this right. but at the very least he was taking Touya’s feelings into account and he was trying, and he didn’t just abruptly toss his son aside (at least not yet)

2. buuuut, then there’s this panel right below all that

which is the other side of it. if he’d just quit like the doctor person advised him to, that would have been the end of it. Touya would still have been upset, but he would have eventually gotten over it and the family would have moved on and possibly even been happy. but what happens next happens because Enji can’t let go. he still has this maddening urge to surpass All Might, and so he and Rei keep having more children, and then Shouto is born, and Enji finally has a kid he can start projecting all of his hysterical ambitions onto once again, and everything starts spiraling out of control soon after

though p.s. none of that is Shouto’s fault though!! he’s one of the few good things to come out of this whole mess and I’m very happy that he exists. the tragedy is that his dad fucking lost his mind over his quirk and fucked everything up. but that’s on him, not Touya or Shouto

anyways, SLKFJLSHGLKJL

I CAN’T FUCKING TAKE THIS YOU GUYS??? LOOK AT THAT LIL BUTTON OF A NOSE??? I’M LOSING IT HERE???

AND TOUYA JUST SEEMS DEVASTATED OMG

because children aren’t stupid, after all. he understands that his dad is still looking to surpass All Might. and so he feels like a failure, and feels like his dad is trying to replace him because he wasn’t good enough. and even now, isn’t that what the adult Touya is trying to prove?? that he was good enough after all?? “I’ll show you what happens when you give up on me, dad”?? “I’ll show you what I can do”?? fuck my life fuck everything

AND YOU CAN SEE THE TOLL THAT IT’S ALL TAKING ON REI GETTING WORSE AND WORSE AS WELL OH GOD

really nice touch here with the panel outlines becoming all shimmery from the heat of Endeavor’s flames (and/or becoming more unstable as the family gets closer and closer to their breaking point). but man, Horikoshi I can’t handle this, please show us more cute kids or something I can’t

GKELKWFJLDKSHFLKL

WITTLE BABE. BEEB. BUBS. SMOL. lkj; oh ouch a piece of my heart just detached and latched onto him huh look at that

TODOROKI “I’M SO SMALL AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON AND I DIDN’T ASK TO BE HERE” SHOUTO AHHHHH

crazy how they all just seem to know right off the bat lol. kid doesn’t even have object permanence yet, let alone a quirk. but do they care?? IT’S THE HAIR, RIGHT. WE’RE ALL THINKING IT, I’M JUST GONNA COME OUT AND SAY IT. they knew the minute they looked at him lol

AND MEANWHILE TOUYA IS OFF HAVING UNSUPERVISED TRAINING/CRYING SESSIONS IN THE MOUNTAINS OR WHATEVER, AND, UH OH

are those blue flames yet?? they seem pretty close

(ETA: this is one of the few cases where the manga being in black and white is infuriating lol.)

OH MY GOD AND STILL

so it’s not like he was so disinterested that he didn’t notice what was happening, and he was still trying to stop it and get through to him. trying to reassure him that it wasn’t the end of the world and there were other things he could do with his life, but this one particular thing just wasn’t going to happen

fucking hell. it’s agonizing seeing how close they actually were to fixing it. if he’d only said the right words, or if he’d realized at this point how destructive his obsession could be to his kids, and backed off from putting that same pressure on Shouto. we came so close to possibly having a happy ending

AND ALSO THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING BUT PLEASE LOOK AT HOW TOUYA IS LIKE THREE AND A HALF FEET TALL AND HIS DAD IS LIKE NINE AND A HALF FEET. Touya barely comes past his knees flkjlkg. the Todoroki household must have been so filled with like plastic stepstools to reach the bathroom sink and all the little baby toothbrushes, and baby gates to keep the kiddos out of the important grown-up rooms and stuff. and also days-old half-empty cups of water and stale crackers and hot wheels and my little ponies strewn everywhere

“BUT EVERYONE AT SCHOOL SAYS THEY’RE GONNA BE HEROES” a wild Deku parallel appears?? how bout that

I know this is like a pivotal moment in the Todo Tragedy and all, but fucking look at this lil dumpling

“sup bro, it’s me, the manifestation of your fears of inadequacy and lack of fatherly affections. a GAAA. ba-baAA-baa [gurgling baby sounds]”

OHHHHH IT’S THE SOUND OF MY HEART BREAKING OH NO

HE WANTS TO BE LIKE YOU ENJI. good lord somebody please just get this family some therapy

“DAD YOU IGNITED IT IN ME” flkjslkj nope, nope. not ready for this pain here

baby Shouto, would you like to weigh in on this affair? “DA!! ba-ga-daaa, [pacifier chewing noises]” oh my, you don’t say. so insightful for one so young

OH MY GODDDDDD

IT’S SO DRAMATIC BUT ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT ARE THE SHOUNEN WOOSH LINES SURROUNDING FOUR-MONTH-OLD SHOUTO LOL HE WAS LIKE THIS FROM BIRTH OH MY GOD I AM DYING HELP

SHOUTO YOU’RE RUINING THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER!?!?!

“yo, the fuck kind of family was I fucking born into” oh, son. if you only knew. IF YOU ONLY KNEW!!

(ETA: lmao I got so distracted by the ridiculous cuteness that I glossed over the fact that Baby Touya seems to possibly be aiming at him?? it’s hard to tell because he’s also super out of it from heatstroke and may just be losing control in his attempt to show off his upgrade.)

ANYWAY THAT’S THE END EXCEPT WHAT’S THIS LAST LINE OMG

ffffff. and we’re in for ANOTHER chapter of this next week?? MORE drama?? MORE BABIES?? MORE OF EIGHT-YEAR-OLD TOUYA’S SLOW DESCENT INTO MADNESS. MY HEART CAN’T TAKE IT, BUT ALSO YES PLEASE SIGN ME UP

[startanewdream]

Summary: Padfoot helps, James makes a fool of himself and Padfoot interrupts.

Or Lily's job as a dog walker is eventful.

_____________

“PADFOOT, NO!”

All in all, that’s the thing that Lily has been saying the most every day since she agreed to walk over that little beast that was released from hell exclusively to torment her.

The worst part is that this beast looks cute. Extremely cute, with the darkest and shiniest fur she has ever seen, warm brown eyes that look hugely sorry whenever he does something wrong (which seems to be all the time). Lily adores him except when Padfoot is misbehaving.

Again, all the time.

Every day since the first time she walked Padfoot, Lily has promised herself that she will inform his owner that she can’t do it anymore. But every day his owner looks at her apologetically, pays twice what they agreed on and winks at her as if asking “can you come back tomorrow, pretty please?”

Now, the double money is nice, Lily needs that job, the dog’s owner is not bad on the eye, but what makes her go back the next day is that Padfoot, that insufferable hellhound, comes back to nudge her with his wet nose, looking at her with his adorable eyes, and he looks so innocent that Lily agrees before she can think better.

But this is it. Seven days later, Lily is ready to finally give up, because Padfoot has done something graver than forcing her to change directions in the middle of the street so he can chase after pigeons, weirder than making her invade a house so he can chat with the cats and worse than invading a flower shop so he could sniff the flowers (and destroying half the plants in the process).

Padfoot pulled her towards a stranger.

For all his size, Padftoot isn’t an aggressive dog; but for all his size, when he is set into something, Lily and her one hundred and forty pounds can’t hold him, so before Lily can do anything more than scream (“PADFOOT, NO!”), Padfoot is running down the park, dragging her along, jumping towards a man and throwing him in the ground.

A second later, a full second in which Lily has time to reconsider every choice in her life that leads to this moment, the momentum throws Lily over the man in the ground.

And then for five very good seconds, Lily forgets all about Padfoot—if she thought about him, she might even thank him—because of every man in the world the dog could choose to jump over, he chose someone absolutely gorgeous. Lily notices first his face, his widen hazel eyes shining behind rectangular glasses, and a few wisps of his dark messy hair falling over his sweaty forehead. Then she sees his tanned skin, from his face to his chest—and when her eyes drop to his chest, she realizes he isn’t wearing any shirt, only some jogger pants, and she is thankful for the bright summer day because gods, he is fit.

Her hand over his chest twitches, and Lily swears she can feel his quick heartbeat—or perhaps it’s her pulse that is running quick, and Lily knows it was not the adrenaline of before.

“Wow,” he whispers, his voice mellow and deep and talking to her, and there is only—

Only a dog between them, licking the stranger’s very beautiful face, taking his glasses out.

“Hey, hey,” he says, laughing, and Lily remembers her current situation.

She jumps apart, knowing her face is deep red (and that embarrassment is only half the reason).

“I am so sorry!” she tells him, trying to pull Padfoot away. The man sits (damn those abs), hugging the dog, letting him keep his ministrations. “He has never—”

“That’s okay,” he tells her, grinning at her (damn this smile). “You are not a good boy, are you?”

Padfoot barks happily, looking very proud of himself.

“I’m really sorry, he doesn’t usually attack people and—” she looks at his dishevelled state (she is not admiring his body once more, she is not), with grass on his hair and dirt on his pants, not to mention all the drool over his face. “You are all dirty—”

“I was already in need of a shower,” he says distractedly (stop imagining him all wet). “I—oh.”

He doesn’t seem very concerned, but he turns his elbow to reveal a scratch from when he fell.

“Fuck, I’m so—”

“It’s no big deal,” he assures her easily. “I—”

“His house—I mean, his owner’s house is just across the street, let me help you.”

“Hm.” He seems strangely bashful. “Actually, I—”

“Just let me help you, please. I’ve been fixing his mess all week.”

“Hmmm.” He still seems opposed to the idea, his good hand scratching Padfoot’s hair almost absently. The dog looks very innocent there, standing with his mouth open, breathing fast. “I am James.”

“Oh,” she smiles at him, and his whole face alights with a grin of his own. “I’m Lily. Now that we know each other—”

“I’ll let you fix this mess,” he agrees, nodding, and when he accepts her hand to help him up, Lily tries to pretend she doesn't feel all the sparks.

_________

Because Padfoot always knows when he did something wrong, the return to his house is quiet and peaceful. He walks pompously, the image of the most behaved dog in the world, seeming glad about something that Lily can’t see.

Not that she is paying much attention, to be honest.

“So, what were you doing back there?” she asks, keeping her voice nonchalant.

“Meditation,” he says, and under her surprised look, James chuckles. To Lily’s dismay, he has picked up a shirt out of his bag, though he still looks very well. “Si… my best friend told me I had too much energy, I should try something to ease my mind.”

“Did it help?”

“Not very much. I was almost relaxing, but then there was this lady screaming and a dog—”

“I am so—”

“I’m joking! You really need to ease your mind too!” He throws her an amused laugh. “And what were you doing in the park?”

In answer, Lily shakes the leash in her hand. An adorable blush spreads over his cheeks.

“Yeah, of course, forget that I asked.”

Lily giggles softly. “Well, you may have hit your head,” she teases, though she is sure he didn’t.

“I hope so,” he whispers, and when her gaze meets his, the red in his cheeks intensifies. “I swear I don’t make a fool of myself usually. So—do you work with dog walking for very long?”

“Just one week actually—my first job is this little beast here.” In answer, Padfoot barks once more, proudly, agreeing with her.

“Padfoot is a nightmare,” James agrees, only fondness dropping from his voice as he stares at the dog.

Lily frowns. “How do you know?”

“'Cause he jumped over me?”

“No, how do you know he is called Padfoot?”

James blinks. “His tag?”

Lily nods slowly. “I guess… We are here.”

James has already stopped even before she says anything, but Lily doesn’t notice, busy opening the small gate to the backyard. Padfoot jumps once more, and this time she lets him loose, knowing he will only be running towards his favourite toys.

“You can wait there,” Lily tells James, indicating a few benches under a parasol in the backyard. “I’ll find some medical kit.”

James sits where she showed him, and he seems to struggle with something for a bit before— “I’d try the guest toilet, first drawer.”

Lily nods; it’s where she had thought first. She opens the door to the house with the spare key that Black has lent her—he won’t be back until seven, if she isn’t wrong—and finds her money over the kitchen table (double plus some more as if he knew that his dog would misbehave once more—very likely given his historic). But she moves forward, going to the toilet in the hall and, in the first drawer of the cabinet she finds a first kit aid.

James is waiting patiently for her, while Padfoot carefully offers him each toy for James to throw.

“He really likes you,” she tells him, sitting next to James. “It took me two days of bargaining to make him let me grab one of his toys.”

“I am a trustworthy person,” James says playfully. “You seem to think so.”

“I do?”

“Well, you just brought me here.”

“I trust Padfoot, he has good instincts. And I am sure Padfoot would defend me if you tried anything,” she says.

“I better not do anything then,” he says, and Lily bits her lip. She hadn’t meant like that.

She cleans his wound, using it as an excuse not to look at him. “Anything bad. After all, he threw me all over you today, so who knows.”

“Well, I’m not complaining,” James says, even as he grimaces when Lily applies alcohol over his wound. “Actually I’d consider rewarding him.”

“You hated meditation that much?” she teases, now bandaging his arm.

“Nah, you were just the most exciting thing that happened to me today. This week. This year—not that I was excited, I mean, not that you wouldn’t make me—I just mean—”

“James? You are babbling.”

“Making a fool of myself, sorry.”

“It… it was actually cute.”

“Oh.” He looks at her, his eyes shining. “Do you enjoy making men fool themselves around you?”

“That's exclusive of you, actually.”

His grin seems to radiate joy now. “So… how much of a fool I would be if I asked you to dinner with me tonight?”

“No dogs to disturb us?”

“No dogs allowed,” he says, and Lily swears he is getting closer.

“That seems perfect,” she agrees, her gaze falling to his lips (full and they look so soft)—

The backdoor opens violently and then Padfoot jumps from the place he had been quietly waiting on the floor.

“Missed you too, Pads!” Black cries, kneeling to accept his dog’s attention. Then he looks ahead and his gaze goes from Lily to James, his mouth opened in surprise.

Lily jumps, suddenly aware of her situation. At her side, James is shaking his head. “Mr. Black! I am so sorry, I can—”

“Sneaking around, James? Thought you wouldn't be back until Sunday!”

Lily blinks. “You know each other?”

“Ah—”

“Ah, Evans! That’s my best friend!”

“What?”

James lifts his hand, running through his hair. “I was going to tell you—”

“So… so that’s why Padfoot ran to you?”

“I didn’t know you’d be there—”

“And you just let me make a fool out of myself?”

“Lily—”

“Hmm, can anyone tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m out. That’s what's going on. I’m leaving.”

“I'm so sorry, Lily, I didn’t mean, I just—”

“No, just… no.”

She shakes her head, walking away, and as she reaches the gate, she feels something brushing her leg, and Lily lowers her eyes to find the familiar black dog glancing at her.

“I haven’t a clue what the hell is happening, but you’ll be back tomorrow, Evans?” she hears Sirius asking, and Padfoot bends his head to the side as if he is asking her the same question.

Lily touches the dog’s head, caressing him under his ear, and his tail swings hopefully for her. His pupils are huge, looking like the most adorable dog in the world, and he barks softly at her before turning his head; Lily follows his gaze to see that James is looking at her, looking very sorrowful and as pleading as Padfoot.

She turns away.

“No, you’ll need to find someone else,” she says and forces herself to close the gate without looking back.

(to be continued. Don't hate me)

[mrpenguinpants]

Venti and Diluc: Friendship HCs

Hi elliechan! I’ve already written friendship hcs for Venti but I never want to leave anyone hanging (unless the dupe request is incredible specific and I can’t add onto it anymore) so think of it as a part 2. But if you haven’t seen Part 1 yet, I added a link.

Also, I would like to credit fulltimeventisimp​ for helping me out with this fic. My monkey brain couldn’t think of anything for Venti but they gave me literally a fics worth of content. PLEASE IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY, MAKE IT AN ACTUAL FIC! I LOVED IT! I tried my best to not piggy back too hard off it but if it does seem that way, let me know and I’ll definitely change it. 

But thank you 💕💕💕

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Part 1: Venti Frienship HCs

Xiao: Frienship HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​​  @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thicmitten​

Venti and Diluc: Friendship HCs

Venti

The first time you met the bard, it was when you were visiting Mondstadt as a small pit stop. He was sat on top of some wooden boxes, next to an apple vendor, singing a short ballad. You’ve never encountered bards throughout your journey and he did have a lovely singing voice so you decided to stay a bit and listen in. It felt like the wind itself was carrying his voice throughout the streets but you couldn’t help but feel a bit...melancholy from his tune. Was it homesickness? You clapped with the crowd when the bard finished and on a whim, you decided to buy him a small bag of apples. He seemed to like them as he only asked the apple vendor to gift him two for his efforts. When you paid your purchase the bard seemed to be in a deep conversation with the same vendor that you didn’t want to disturb them, after all you weren’t going to be in Mondstadt for long. So you placed the small bag of apples beside the bard’s lyre with a quick thank you note, a couple extra coins, and continued on your journey. 

You didn’t expect that small act of kindness would lead to anything but when you were preparing for bed, the same bard popped his head outside your window and almost gave you a heart attack. This bard was lucky he didn’t catch you while you were changing your clothes or else things might have turned ugly. He wanted to thank you for your generous donation which you simply waved off explaining that throughout your journey, you never met anyone that could sing quite like him. A small token of appreciation. Perhaps it was because you fed his ego too much or other reasons but that seemed to peak the bards interest and ask about what other fascinating places you’ve been too. You talked about the horrible mountain you needed to climb through to reach Mondstadt, the shining electro lamps of Inazuma that would spark if you got too close, to the clear pools and lotus heads in Liyue. 

“You’ve been around all over the place! Perhaps you would allow me to write a ballad of your conquests?”

“Hm? Is that so? Why don’t you come with me? Go outside the walls of Mondstadt and explore. So you can write your own ballad instead of others.”

“Is this another acting whim of yours?”

“Haha, perhaps.”

Unsurprisingly, you don’t see the bard the next day. It was probably a lot to suddenly ask a stranger to drop everything and come with you to unknown places. But you decided to stay in Mondstadt for a short while and see what the City of Freedom had to offer. From meeting the supposed gliding champion and learning a few pointers, to the mysterious Calvary Captain who you were sure was probably the shadiest person you’ve ever met, to the aloof red headed tavern owner. You weren’t much of a drinker but everyone in Mondstadt, especially the knights, seemed to really enjoy their wine and were incredibly friendly to strangers. On the night you were planning to leave Mondstadt, the rowdy knights you’ve became friends with decided to celebrate and urge you to drink to your hearts content (please drink responsibly haha). You must have been a bit tipsy when you met the bard for a second time, introducing himself properly as Venti. You could blame it on the alcohol when you suddenly challenged him to a drinking contest but it was the most fun you had in a while. You were pretty sure everyone got kicked out but as you leaned against Venti absolutely hammered, laughing about the silliest things, it was the most freeing feeling you’ve ever felt. 

From then on, even after you had left the City of Freedom, you could would randomly see Venti pop up sometimes. Should it be at Starsnatch Cliff or all the way in Wolvendom, you would see a few fluffy feathers appear as the bar- Venti announced his arrival. You were pretty sure Venti was bored whenever he visited you to see what you were up to but you didn’t mind. His liveliness nature was addicting and you were an easy going person. Though, some of the jokes he made, made you a bit suspicious of him. Whenever he would say that Andrius was secretly a grumpy mother hen or that Dvalin was actually a shy sweetheart.

“You sure do know a lot about Mondstadt. You sure you’re just a bard Venti?”

“Hmm, well it shouldn’t hurt to tell you. I am Barbatos. The Anemo Archon of Mondstadt. Pleasure to make your acquaintance..-again.”

“I see...and yet you still get ID checked?” 

“Rude!” 

Outside of Mondstadt, Venti is a whirlwind of emotions. Always wanting to see what’s changed or linking your hands and dragging you off to some far off chest he found. How did his small body have so much strength to nearly pop your arm out? He did come in handy during your Liyue expeditions since he can give you a small boost to just reach the top of that cliff. You thought violet grass was bad, it should be illegal for Qingxin flowers to grow on the very top of mountains. Venti thinks it’s really sweet that you put so much faith in his winds to let yourself fly when he uses his elemental skill. Though, it’s a bit of a double edged sword. When you finally reach the very top and you’re waiting for Venti to join you, he might pretend to loose control and throw himself off the cliff. You sometimes forget he’s literally the anemo archon and you’re ready to go gliding after him before he pops up in front of you to give you another scare. While he’s laughing, you’re already planning how to sneak slime condensate into his hat. 

“You should have seen your face! I didn’t know you could scream like that! Liyue must think a banshee is haunting their mountains again!”

“Watch yourself gremlin, you might wake up without hands tomorrow.”

“Haha, you wouldn’t do that...right? How would you even do that? Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

“Isn’t there a saying in Liyue Venti? You can’t run from your debts? Prepare yourself.”

For as child-like Venti appears, you both end up getting into a bit of trouble when Venti get’s a bit too bold. While it’s incredibly refreshing to see someone speak their mind regardless of the consequences, you actually kind of admire him for that, usually the boldness comes from trying to bribe the bartender for free drinks. Your poor wallet is crying out every time Venti spots a new tavern. While he say’s he will pay you back or he’ll pay you back in a song, you can’t actually eat his words. But on other occasions you can’t help but join in when it happens to be one of the Fatui guards giving you both a hard time. You feel like you’re acting out a Shakespearian play with all the flowery nonsense and metaphors you’re both spitting out. 

When you’re both in the thick of a forest or even on top of Liyue’s mountain, Venti will bring his lyre out and strum his strings softly as you both fall into a comfortable silence. Looking at the sunset or relaxing under the trees as the sun peaks through as you both live in the moment. It’s these times that you’re harshly reminded that Venti is an archon as he slips out of his persona and speaks as Barbatos. He tells you how fun your adventures have been, that he was glad to have made friends with you, speaking as if you’re about to die tomorrow. You’re not sure how to handle it, what kind of burden Venti is carrying, but you immediately drop everything and comfort him. Giving him a strong but warm hug that you’re still here and he’s not alone right now. 

“Come on, I’m still waiting for the Ballad of Venti. You haven’t given up on that right?” 

“Hmph, of course not. Every being deserves a name to be called upon, and woven into a song.”

Diluc

It was a peaceful day, one Diluc hadn’t felt in a long time in his hectic life. Though it was a bit too early to determine how the day would go since it was still noon. The tavern would soon get loud as it approached night but for now. Everything was peaceful. The sounds of Monstadt streets bustling. The peaceful atmosphere as the sun shone through the windows. Working on mundane tasks of wiping the counter down. No Kaeya in sight. A small moment of peace. All broken when his door was kicked nearly off its hinges as you announced your return from your shopping trip as if you had returned after a 3 year long journey. Diluc sighs under his breath, takes a moment to pray he doesn’t need to repair his door again, and helps you with your bags as you ramble about your day. 

To others, it’s always seems a bit weird when they catch Diluc and you chatting since Diluc always gives off the lone wolf persona and yet you’re this ball of sunshine. Maybe it’s because you knew Diluc when he was a child, back when he was still bright-eyed, that you never treated him any differently when he came back. Diluc never really talks about it but he’s happy that you’re still the same and he can let himself relax with you. He still keeps his silent demeanor as he listens to you talk about anything and everything, it helps keeps his mind occupied, but he might add a few comments here and there. Just to let you know he’s still listening. 

You know what sounds really hot? Sitting in the same room with someone while you both do your own respective thing. You both don’t feel forced to talk to each other just because you’re in the same room or you have to do everything together just because you’re together. It’s an easy atmosphere that settles as Diluc works on business papers and you’re planning your next expeditions. Until you end collapsing on his couch because your brain processing has suffered enough and it’s time to take a nap. You always end up dragging him out of his work to go outside and take a nice doze in the sun. 

If you ever have a problem, he won’t necessarily coddle you unless it really bothers you or you’re in a situation where it could hurt you, but he’ll do everything to help you work through it. You’re his friend and if someone is giving you a hard time then he has no problem chasing them away, especially if its a Fatui member. If it happens to be Kaeya, well that’s an entirely different story. Likewise, if it appears to you that Diluc is going through a rough time you’ll try and comfort him. Do small little things to let him know that you care and while he doesn’t need to tell you what’s wrong, you’re here to support him. 

Diluc enjoys playing chess against you, even if he wins most of the time, you’re always so determined that he can’t help but laugh along with your over reactions. Presenting him an entire 20 page paper on chess and yet getting checkmated in 10 turns. You’re 95% sure all the chess strategies he offered were all fake, if his smug grin is anything to go by. You both have agreed to never play darts together, well more specifically, you’re pretty sure you’re banned from playing darts when you almost hit Adelinde. That was the first time you ever genuinely feared for your life. 

Whenever Diluc has to attend a gala or has to host a party to further his business, he’s always appreciative when you show up. You’re not exactly apart of royalty or even a business owner but it’s so refreshing to Diluc, after spending so much time keeping a polite attitude and trying to talk business, when he can come to you as you laugh about how one lady almost tripped because her dress was too long. Sometimes he’ll lean a bit on you or pretend to be in a conversation just so he can recharge. 

More often then not, you’re mistaken to be Diluc partner even though the idea of holding Diluc’s hand makes you want to throw up. But when Diluc get’s random father’s trying to offer their daughter’s hands in marriage, he’ll pull the excuse he’s already with someone if they can’t no for an answer. It’s always funny to you, linking arms with Diluc and re-telling the grandiose story about how Diluc saved you from falling off a cliff when you were both younger and you were both star-crossed lovers that were destined to be together. Or something like that, you’re pretty sure you’ve changed the story enough times that you can’t keep track. But it seems to work and as soon as they are out of ear’s reach you make a quick gagging motion. He shoves you a bit to which you elbow him in the side. Old habits die hard. 

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I swear, I could probably recite character stories word for word at this point. Gripping my writing hand don’t make it angsty, don’t make it angsty, don’t fucking do it. But I still did, whoops. 

I feel like my fics are really long so I’ll add a read more tag. Mmm writing styles are hard. I don’t know if I like this;; I ended up writing so much to try and combine my “hcs are just another word for fics just without the dialogue” and “actual headcanons” styles. Ahh, well whatever. I have to go speedrun my assignments since genshin is going to eat all my time this week. 

[rvmmm21]

Would you comsider a steamy wenrene where irene is gentle with her wannie? you can make it yandere but please I just need to see irene be nice to wendy for a change 😢😢😢😢

considered. written. how does it feel to get a whole bunch of NOTHING. hahaha. i tried, but what am i if not a frustrating pit of maybes. have your 50%. 

tw: wendy’s LIES.

– – – – –

“Wan–ah, don’t be ridiculous.” Joohyun calls back as Seungwan’s hand reaches for the door, patting the mattress beside her in that totally–not–demanding–but–demanding voice of hers. “I know you’ve been having nightmares. Sleep with me tonight.”

Seungwan freezes, then dips her gaze. Damn, the duvet on Joohyun’s side suddenly looks ten times fluffier than hers. It… can’t hurt, right? Just one night. After a visible deliberation, Seungwan edges her way over and gingerly settles down, lifting the duvet and artlessly snuggling under it with a nervous chuckle. Gosh, it’s even warmer than she’d expected. Or… wait, is that just her own body heat from how fast her heart is going? She has no idea. And it’s not like she can think of much other than the whiffs of that crisp fabric conditioner Joohyun loves to use. 

“Night, Wannie. Sweet dreams. I hope you—”

“G’night unnie,” Seungwan accidentally interjects Joohyun while she’s bidding her goodnight. She half expects an eye-roll for that awkward timing but Joohyun simply huffs fondly and turns to face away from her.

Wow, good job. No, seriously. Way to go, Seungwan. Jesus.

The older is out like a light, leaving the other sweating in the dark with a racing heart and an embarrassingly explicit reel of thoughts.

It’s fine, it’s not like she’ll know, right? I’ll just stay up, Seungwan thinks, pulling the duvet up under her chin. For a good two minutes, all she can hear is the sound of the soft snoring next to her. She focuses on her own mechanical breathing, staring up into the darkness. 

The gentle draft from the ceiling fan is drying her eyes out. That’s fine, though. Because she has no intention of sleeping.

As much as Seungwan is determined, so is the fatigue. And it isn’t long before she’s drifting off into the first proper sleep she’s had in forever. Thank god they established the mandatory ten inches of space between them before Joohyun knocked out. There’s no way Seungwan’s crossing that boundary anytime soon; invisible as it may be, and as loudly as Joohyun may have laughed at her when she suggested it.

What was it Joohyun called her? A weirdo? Whatever, she isn’t about to take any chances. Especially not when she’s almost four hundred percent sure Joohyun doesn’t know about the… little crush she’s harbouring.

A little later on into the night Seungwan feels a distant tapping on her shoulder, and then she’s opening her eyes to a gentle smile nudging her awake. It’s only her side profile, but Joohyun’s beauty is dazzling, even through the filter of the night. Seungwan unconsciously licks her lips. 

“Wan–ah, it’s nice but—” the older woman pauses for a soft yawn, “bit looser please… hard to breathe.”

Once Seungwan shakes herself awake enough to make sense of what she’s hearing, she barely manages to keep from having a heart attack right there and then. She is— to her absolute horror— curled right into Joohyun’s back, practically nuzzling into the nape of her neck with her arms wrapped (breath–takingly snugly, apparently) around her waist, like a little puppy snuggled up to the warmth of its mother.

“Oh!” she yelps, reeling back in shock and doing her best to let Joohyun know she’s repulsed at herself, not her. 

I— I thought you were my bolster, unnie?! She wants to scream.

Too bad she’s so preoccupied in berating herself to notice the look on Joohyun’s face. The one that screams she anything but minded. Seungwan tries to detach herself from Joohyun’s back, but to her surprise, Joohyun stops her with a firm— “It’s okay. Stay.”— and an arm on top of hers, holding it there. 

Guess they’re spooning tonight.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They’re kissing. Joohyun’s kissing her. Electrified dewdrops on grass blades catch between Seungwan’s prying fingertips, cool and wet. One by one, they’re absentmindedly plucked out of the soil when Joohyun connects their smiles in the humid summer air, murakami flowers embroidering their hearts together. 

The scent of vanilla–mint shampoo is cloying her nose. She’s tasting her, fingers are tangling in her hair, tilting her back slightly… 

“J–Joohyun unnie…” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“W—Wannie?”

A perfect voice cuts through her dream, a hand on her shoulder already gingerly rousing her from her sleep.

Again.

“Wan—ah… you said my name.” And of course, Joohyun’s groggy voice sounds good enough to kiss, damn it. “Are you having a bad dream?”

“Mm… sorry unnie, sorry…” Seungwan mumbles softly, rolling onto her back with a huff and palming her eyes, trying to adjust to reality. 

Joohyun shimmies closer. Her vision is fuzzy, but she can still see Seungwan. Gosh, she thinks, giving her a once over, that dream must’ve been horrible. The poor thing is sweating. 

If only Joohyun knew the truth, the warmth in Seungwan’s cheeks might’ve been raised several degrees… alongside the warmth below her waistband. 

Suddenly the room is far, far too hot. Suddenly, Seungwan wishes she wasn’t trapped under Joohyun’s incredibly comfortable duvet with the most attractive woman on the planet. She tries to stretch her legs, tries to create a small air pocket to let some of that suffocating heat escape, but it does little to cool anything down. Ironically, it garners more of Joohyun’s attention, feeling the other girl shift so uncomfortably like that. After a couple of tense, silent moments, Seungwan’s tolerance snaps and she moves to get up. But Joohyun catches this instinctively and snakes an arm around her waist, tugging her down, stopping her from leaving again.

Seungwan seems adamant this time, though. “Unnie… I should go back to my room—”

Joohyun isn’t listening, choosing instead to press her with a question of her own. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you were dreaming about?” 

Whatever, Seungwan thinks, just give her the sparknotes version. There’s no need for her to know everything.

“We…” she admits slowly, “… we were in the grassy patch under the tree… you— you know, where we usually…?”

She pauses to make sure Joohyun is following. Sure enough, that patient nod gives her the answer she needs to nervously clear her throat.

“And it was raining but it stopped, and then… and then. Ahh, I don’t know. I think I need to cool off, unnie, I need to pee anyway,” Seungwan lies. She barely manages to pull the covers off her and push her hands into the mattress before Joohyun is gently holding her down to it, hovering over her in a way that has her airways clogged and her heartbeat an irregular mess.

“You’re sweating,” Joohyun points out the one thing Seungwan’s trying to hide. “You’re overheated. Are you feeling alright?”

Seungwan wants to say yes. So, so badly. But she shakes her head. It’s not a definitive shake, but it’s one vague enough that Joohyun remains inquisitive. Seungwan curses herself for being so honest. Why couldn’t she just push her out of the way? And did she have to agree to sleeping with her tonight? Why couldn’t she just have said it was a nightmare?

Why can she never lie to Joohyun? Even if it’s to preserve her own dignity?

“I’m going to the bathroom. I really have to pee.” Seungwan insists, and Joohyun is all but convinced. She looks down at the girl under her with such gentleness. And then she leans over, supporting herself on one elbow beside Seungwan’s head while she brings her other hand up to caress her cheek.

There’s a tiny gasp from the girl at the sudden (but not entirely unwelcome) closeness. “... unnie… you— you’re too close.”

Joohyun gracefully ignores her, moving her fingers from Seungwan’s face to trace the loose neckline of her t-shirt, showing her exactly what she means. “I think you want me closer, don’t you, Wannie?”

“You’re blushing all over. Look, here…” Joohyun starts with a cold finger on Seungwan’s lower abdomen, sending a heated chill up her spine. She sucks in a sharp breath when Joohyun folds the hem of her sleep shirt up, exposing the flushed skin on her stomach. “... and here, too…”

“U-Unnie… please…” 

But her unnie’s hand wanders wherever it pleases, ignorant to Seungwan’s helpless pleas. It strays further and further south and the younger girl isn’t even aware of what’s going on until there are fingers teasing at the waistband of her shorts. 

“Seungwan?” 

— who has been subconsciously licking her lips, stops as soon as she realises Joohyun’s eyes have been following the movements of her tongue the entire time. 

“Seungwan,” Joohyun repeats, resting a hand on her thigh, “what happened next, in your dream…”

Ah, what’s the worst that could happen? Seungwan tells Joohyun the truth and spontaneously combusts. That, or they never speak or look each other in the eyes ever again. Joohyun’s already gotten this far, Seungwan thinks she has nothing else to lose.

Her voice is hardly louder than a whisper. “We… kissed. You— you kissed me.”

She isn’t sure if the older woman is actually paying attention to the highlight of her dream anymore, because the feathery touch that had been resting on her hip bone is now skimming down, seeking the heat emanating from between her legs. She lets out an embarrassed squeak that dissolves into a strangled whimper when Joohyun strokes over her panties.

“And did you like it, Wannie? Was I good?” 

“Wha— huh? Unnie, what do you m—”

Joohyun doesn’t wait for a coherent answer. She leans down and shushes Seungwan’s stutter with a kiss, and a fierce new blush scribbles across the blonde’s cheeks as her eyes instinctively flutter closed.

Right now, Seungwan can’t deny it no matter how much she wants to.

“You’re amazing, unnie.”

Joohyun smiles. “Don’t worry Wannie, everything’s going to be alright. Let me take care of you now, okay?”

With bashful eyes, Seungwan nods. If Joohyun says it’ll be okay, she has no doubt that it will.

[moonofiron]

Ok I just wanted to write a really short and sweet smutty piece for ShikaTema. But I have failed miserably. I am too attached to Naruto-verse and all the characters in general. (Like, I'm so attached that I can't even read or watch most of NaruHina/SasuSaku smut - it feels WRONG).

There are a few after thoughts regarding this piece, too. I really enjoyed writing this. I really love ShikaTema and they were my first OTP. Hell, I didn't even know that the terms OTP or shipping existed when I started rooting for them. So, this is super close to my heart ❤�� and ✨unedited✨. I legit wrote 8.4k words on my phone and my eyes are rolling on the ground right now.

Anime: Naruto Shippuden (Set in post-Shippuden and pre-Boruto-verse.)

Characters: Shikamaru Nara x Temari Scenes with Ino, Sasuke, Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Sai. Passing mention of Choji.

Genre: Fluff, angst, flirting, explicit sexual content 🥵, slight voyeurism, oral, raw sex

Word Count: 8.4k (yikes!)

Synopsis: Shikamaru has finally had enough of Temari’s incessant flirting

Rating: M

Minors, dni

Friends and family from all five villages had been invited to the annual Hanami Matsuri in Konoha. Hinata had invited some of Naruto's closest to their house for a brunch party before the matsuri started full swing. Hinata had cooked everything from scratch and Sakura and Ino had helped decorate her backyard with streamers and flowers. Everything looked immaculate and lovely. The boys were all specially thrilled to be getting together after such a long time.

"What a rowdy bunch," said Ino with a wide grin, a look of pride plastered on her face. Sakura grinned, too.

"Judgemental as always, Ino, I'll be joining em soon, ya know? Do you think I'm rowdy too, love? You're breaking my heart here." Shikamaru moved uncomfortably close to Ino's ear, making her squirm under his presence. He loved to lightly flirt with Ino and see her all flustered.

"Baaka janaai no? Take your charm elsewhere. Or I'm going to get Sai to beat you up one day."

"Hai hai, Ino Sensei," he winked at her and made his way to the bar to grab a beer and light a cigarette.

Sakura, visibly shaken by Shikamaru’s loose and flirtatious behaviour, grabbed Ino’s arm.

"What the hell was that, Ino?! Do...do you think he likes you?"

"What? No way. It's just an inside joke. He was the one who helped me get together with Sai, you know?"

After a long moment of admirinng the friendship she shared with Shikamaru, Ino spoke up.

"I just wish that someday he'll do something in his own i nterests, too."

"What do you mean?"

“There's someone. Loves her like a fucking dog. Like weak-in-the-knees-slash-worship-her kinda love, you know?"

"I just can’t imagine Shikamaru in the way you're describing him."

"Yeah, I get that. He really is tough to break into. Anyway, this isn't for me to share, Sakura. Let's have some of those karaage Hinata has prepared. I can't get enough of them."

Shikamaru leaned against the bar, craving a minute to himself. He wished Choji could have been there but he was away on a mission. Everyone was at the other end of the backyard or inside the house. He looked up at the sky, admiring the clouds slowly moving towards nowhere in particular. Before he could pop open the beer bottle, he noticed Temari entering with Kankuro and Gaara.

"Tsk, mendukse," he muttered under his breath.

He wasn't expecting to see Temari today. He really wasn't in the mood to be on his best behavior. The last mission had taken away a lot from him. He hadn't slept properly and he was tired. He wanted to just have a good time with the gang, maybe play some cards and get drunk out of his mind. But there she was, bright and beautiful in her stubbornness as always, making Shikamaru's heart sink and flutter all at the same time. He felt himself tighten up when she caught him looking at her.

"Hey! Shikamaru! How've you been?" she waved and shouted from across Naruto's backyard.

He waved back and put on an awkward smile.

She was walking towards him slowly. He noticed the slightly exaggerated sway in her hips and felt himself steadily losing breath. He kept his beer bottle on the table beside him and put his hands in his pockets as he waited for her to reach him.

”Hello, Temari. Wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Oh..? Why not?"

"I don't know. I thought only Kankuro would be here for the Matsuri," he inhaled the smoke from his cigarette deeply before tapping it.

"Well, I am here. And you'll show me around, yes?"

He stayed silent for a moment too long and his eyes pierced into hers. He finally broke her gaze and moved his head to the side to blow out the smoke.

"If I'm free, I'll grab ya."

"What do you mean if you're free? Is that how you treat your guests, Shikamaru-kun?" Temari tugged at his t-shirt and teased slightly, pouting at him, never leaving his gaze. She loved to see Shikamaru get awkward around her. The green of her eyes had him weak in his knees again.

Shikamaru looked down at his t-shirt bunched up in her delicate hands. She was mindlessly moving her thumb in circles against his chest. He felt a flash of an indescribable feeling and something inside him broke loose.

He held her arm and pulled her dangerously close. Temari's eyes widened and she let out an audible gasp.

"I know how to treat a guest like you very well, Temari," he spoke in a low, hoarse voice, his lips barely inches away from hers.

"I... I ...Shikamaru... What..what are you doing Everyone... someone could be watching. What would they think?"

"Hmm ..what would they think, Temari?" Shikamaru spoke in a tone so cold that Temari felt a shiver go down her spine.

"Let me go, you idiot."

He gripped her arm harder, grit his teeth, and shoved his thigh between her legs. She let out a soft moan and he felt her back arch ever so slightly.

"Shik.." He suddenly let her go, leaving her too flustered to collect herself. He picked up his beer and grabbed another another one before walking towards everyone else.

"What's up, Kankuro?" he said loudly.

"Same old, genius," Kankuro patted him on the back as he took the beer bottle from him.

When Shikamaru reached the others gathered around the table, he noticed that Temari was still standing at the bar. Her hands were balled into tight fists, and from the rise and dip of her shoulders he could tell she was breathing deeply. He looked away and stopped paying attention to her for fear that he'll start coming to terms with what he had just done. And, he wasn't looking forward to that.

Shikamaru avoided Temari throughout the brunch but always caught her stealing glances at him. He could see the smirk on her face everytime she got a chance to be near him. He was losing his patience with the woman. She was deliberately brushing her hands against his. She was finding ways of leaning over him to grab food or drinks, brushing her hair against his face. Everytime she got up from the table they were all huddled around, playing poker, she made sure she lightly brushed his groin with her ass. Getting through the brunch proved to be frustrating at worst and left him breathless at best.

Everyone started leaving slowly, like people often do. They said their goodbyes and hugged and promised to do this again sometime soon. When Temari and her brothers left, Shikamaru let out a sigh of relief. Everyone had left except him and Sasuke.

"I see something's brewing in your pants, ahem, I mean your brain, you bastard," Naruto joked out loud.

"Hai hai, she's going to be the death of me." Shikamaru leaned his head back on the chair. His eyes followed a lone cloud.

"Well, then, you shouldn't have given her a taste of you like that at the bar, ya know?" Sasuke smirked.

"I'm sick of your eyes seeing everything everywhere. Mendukse ne. Tsk." Shikamaru let out a puff of smoke.

"Don't worry, no one noticed you both doing whatever the fuck you were doing throughout. They were all drunk, anyway."

"Yeah, not worried. Alright, gotta do some stuff before the matsuri starts, boys. Jaana!"

Shikamaru walked out of Naruto’s and clutched the green clip he'd bought for Temari long back. He carried it everywhere in order to be prepared to give it to her should the occasion arise. Perhaps it was his way of having a little control over this situation. He started to make his way to his home but thought better of it and walked towards the inn he knew Temari was staying at. She always stayed there because of how pretty and secluded it was. It gave her a chance to be away from her two brothers.

When he reached, he paced back and forth. His nerves were catching up to him.

"What if she gets angry? What if she never talks to me again?" His mind was over-flowing with questions he had no answers to. Questions he didn’t want answers to.

He got tired of thinking through the details and just went ahead, fully aware that his actions didn't align with the kind of man he was. But, over the years he'd realised that this was one matter he couldn't rationalise. He couldn't plan or predict this. He couldn't fit it into a strategy or logic. All he knew for certain was that he came undone everytime Temari so much as looked at him. He found himself perched on the balcony of her room.

She was going for a bath. Once she entered the bath, Shikamaru jumped inside the room and made himself comfortable as he leaned against the shelf on the wall infront of the washroom. He blended in with the room, completely still and quiet, as he waited for Temari to come out. He just wanted to talk. Just wanted to see her again. Be near her, again.

He waited for about 20 minutes, his mind a wilderness amd tangle of multiple ways he would explain what he was doing in her room, before she stepped out. When she did, she was naked and drenched in water, a scenario he hadn’t thought through. The water droplets made her body glitter in the soft early-evening sunlight. Shikamaru involuntarily gasped and bit his lip. Despite himself, he scanned her top to bottom as she mumbled something to herself. She looked absolutely stunning. He wanted nothing more than to love her with his entire being. Something tugged hard at his insides, he felt a drunkenness swallow him whole.

"Ugh, I don't know why I always forget to take my towel in the bath, it's so cold, fuck" mumbled Temari to herself as she looked around for the towel. She had goosebumps all over her body from the cool air. She was running late for the Matsuri, too. Her yukata was not ironed yet. Her phone kept buzzing and all of it was driving her up the wall. To top it all, she couldn't stop thinking about how Shikamaru had shoved his thigh between her legs earlier. How less it had taken for her to just yield. In the chaos, she completely missed Shikamaru, comfortable beside the shelf, quietly admiring her.

She bent down to pick up the towel on wooden stool right next to the washroom door. "I can't believe the towel was here all along, tsk. Where is my mind today?"

As she started getting up, she found herself unable to move. Terror painted her face. Back muscle? Slipped disc? A hundred explanations ran through her head before something made her unclench her hand around the towel, making it fall on the floor. A force made her sit still on the stool. It made her spread her legs and move her hands to her nipples, pulling them, all against her will. She gasped at her own touch, bewildered. She struggled to break out of whatever the fuck was happening but her limbs wouldn't listen to her.

Shikamaru quitely walked towards her and stroked her face gently. He bent down, his lips just a hair's length from Temari's ears.

"Kaagemane no jutsu, sekko," whispered Shikamaru hoarsely.

"Sh..shikamaru..wha...what's the meaning of..." she felt a darkness shove itself down her throat. Shikamaru had used his shadows to bind her throat as well as stop her from speaking.

"You're going to sit tight and do exactly what I want you to." He knew Temari was utterly baffled and terrified. Her face made it very clear.

"I won't take you to the matsuri otherwise, Temari," smirked Shikamaru.

He could feel the heat from her body. He moved back, his eyes tracing each and every part of it.

"You're gorgeous, you know?" he said as he settled in a chair in front of her. Shikamaru noticed that Temari's soft breasts perked up involuntarily at his words. He spread his legs to mirror her. He wanted to appear collected and he lit a cigarette to calm himself down. His insides felt gooey. He slowly pulled out the shadow from her mouth so she could breathe.

"Feel better?"

Temari gagged and panted and slowly nodded, her chin was covered with her own drool. She looked like a dream, she looked absolutely unreal to Shikamaru. His hands itched, his breath faltered, and he could feel the hair on his neck stand up.

Too embarrassed and shocked and scared and aroused all at once, Temari looked away from Shikamaru's piercing eyes.

"Shi...Shikamaru..ple..please. What do you think you're doing? This is..." she spoke in a strong voice but Shikamaru could hear the slight tremble.

He lost his patience and cut her off meanly.

"What do you think you were doing at the brunch? Strutting around all pretty for me like that. Hmm?"

"For you?" Temari mustered the courage to bite back, her eyebrows rose.

Temari felt a deep blush rising in her cheeks when Shikamaru didn't move or say anything. He usually couldn't bear to look at her in the eyes for more than half a minute. But today, his gaze was unwavering.

After a momemt, Shikamaru took a deep breath and spoke in a low voice, a baritone she'd never heard escape his soft lips.

"You think I'm blind? You think I wouldn't notice, hmm? All that unintentional brushing against me? All that pouting and tugging at my t-shirt? Your ass grinding my cock everytime we squeezed through that corridoor? Your tits in my fucking face infront of everyone?"

He tried to calm himself down. He was aware he was going a bit too far.

"The way you leaned into me when I grabbed your arm? The way your nipples hardened underneath your thin dress? Your little moan, the subtle arch in your back when I shoved my thigh between your legs? The way your lips parted? The way your wet tongue almost darted out?"

Temari's cheeks were a burning red now. So, clearly, he had noticed. She was never sure with him. She knew he was perceptive but she'd been hinting since years now, and he had never ever made a move. Even though she'd caught a kind of hunger in his face a million times, she always thought she was making it up in her own head. Of course, she'd never been this explicit with her hints, but she only got the courage because of the way Shikamaru had handled her at the bar. A little teasing as revenge for getting a woman like her so flustered wouldn't hurt, she'd thought.

But, she also hadn't expected this kind of a reaction from Shikamaru. She really thought he would just be his usual awkward self. Shikamaru taking charge of the situation woke in her something that she didn’t understand . She was steadily growing moist under his watch, her thighs were slippery, and she was throbbing for his touch.

Was he doing this just to get back at her for all of her friendly flirting? Or was there something else she was missing? Had she really fallen for someone she didn't know at all?

She felt her head snap in Shikamaru's direction.

"Look at me," he grit his teeth.

She felt her left hand moving to her growing wetness and her right tugging at her own nipple. Shikamaru's small smile told her he was helplessly enjoying himself. She gasped and moaned uncontrollably as he made her rub her clit against her will.

"That's it, love, let me watch you rub yourself," he bit his lip. His eyes were filled with the same hunger she'd witnessed so many times before. So it was real. It had always been real. He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

It took Shikamaru every ounce of strength and control to keep himself from just taking her right there and then. He was suppressing years of pent up frustration and desire. He was very hot and very bothered and his joggers were getting way too tight for him.

His jutsu made Temari touch herself exactly like how he'd imagined so many times before. He made her rub herself agonizingly slow, pinch her nipples hard, and then suddenly made her right hand drop to her throbbing cunt, too. He made her decrease the pressure on her clit and shove two fingers inside of herself.

Her moans filled the room and Shikamaru felt his face burn. She looked like a goddess. He wanted, so badly, to get on his knees and just lick her, feel the warmth of her thighs around his face, feel her gushing in his mouth. He wanted nothing but to love this woman with the entirety of his being. He ran his hands through his hair to focus himself and catch his breath.

Her eyes, a mixture of anger and love and arousal, hadn’t left his since he’d made her snap her head in his direction. He loved that she was standing up to him in her own way. His eyes hadn't left her body, her face, her fingers working in and around her cunt. His mouth watered and cock twitched at the sloppy noises her fingers and wetness made.

She begged for release. It took her a while but her arousal made her shed all fear or embarrassment. She'd found the comfort his presence always gave her, the usual sense of security she felt around him was back. His greed and hunger for her was painted on his face, clear as day.

"Fas...faster, ple...please Shika..I can't.." she breathed helplessly, her sentence punctuated by moans.

"Time for another finger, love," Shikamaru sucked in his lower lip as her finger moved at his will.

Temari felt a heat bloom in her core and her legs shivered from the intensity of it all.

As he made her fuck herself with three fingers, she suddenly felt her left hand move away from her clit and then come down crashing. She realised Shikamaru was making her slap her clit, not once, not twice, but repeatedly and in quick successions. She moaned out his name out of habit.

"Fuck, look at you moaning my name, you look so beautiful, Temari. My name on your lips like that, it's making me harder." He teased her in a silky voice.

Temari had lost all control by now. She was writhing as much as Shikamaru allowed her to, the stool under her was about give away, and her wrists ached from all the work Shikamaru was making her do.

"Shika...Shikamaru, I'm gonna.. I'm gonna..."

She suddenly felt her hands move away from her swollen cunt. She clenched around emptiness and throbbed for him, realising that he'd denied her any kind of release.

"Shikamaru, please, please... please..." she panted, sweaty and messy.

"Please what?"

"Pl...please let me..," she gulped. She was so embarrassed she was saying this out loud. Infront of him.

"Let you what?"

"Please, let me cum," she mumbled.

"Yeah? Look at the mess you've made, love. Do you want me to help you clean up?" His shadow made her head bend down to look at the pool she'd given birth to. Temari nodded lightly and that's all it took for Shikamaru to get on his knees and bring his mouth to her soft cunt. He kept her bound by his shadows so she couldn't move. He rested his calloused hands on her inner thighs and gave her a long lick all the way from her moist and throbbing opening to her cute little button of a clit. The voice that escaped her throat gave Shikamaru goosebumps.

"I love you," moaned Temari in a whisper.

Shikamaru's ears were now warm and beet red, his face buried harder between her thighs and his fingers dug into her skin. He loved her. God, he loved her so much. He loved every little thing she did, every noise that escaped her lips. Every time her body jerked from his touch, it sent his mind in a frenzy.

The cold metal of his earrings against her inner thighs made her shiver. His sharp hair tickled her. She moaned out his name again as he moved his tongue in and out of her quickly. He felt her clench around his tongue. He brought his thumb to her clit and rubbed it in quick and dirty circles, the metal of his rings cool and electrifying. He looked up at her face with the same hunger in his eyes that always made Temari skip a beat.

"Say, how many times have you moaned out my name like this, Temari?" he whispered and went back to giving her soft, gentle licks.

Temari blushed a beautiful pink again and bit her lip. She found it extremely hard to form a coherent sentence, the way his mouth and hands were handling her was perfect.

"I..I've ...I've lost...co..unfff..count."

He smiled against her skin and showered her wetness with kisses and nibbles. He inserted a finger as he lapped up her clit and felt her clench again, this time around his finger. He curled his finger and Temari let out a small whimper. He moved his finger in and out and slowly inserted a second and third one till she was panting, his thin and long tongue never ceasing to flutter around her clit.

"Shika...Shika I'm gonna..I'm gonna cum. Do...don't stop"

At this, Shikamaru ceased all movement. It took him immense control to leave her wanting like that, again. But, it had to be done. He didn’t understand why but he wanted her to beg, not hint anymore. He'd had enough of her innocent flirting and teasing and it was his turn to have her writhing before him.

"Are...are you serious!?" shouted Temari.

A loud gutteral sound escaped Temari's lips. She'd been edged twice in the last half an hour and she hated it. She hated that Shikamaru won't let her cum. But it felt so good. The way he looked at her, talked to her, touched her, it was all unbearable.

Shikamaru lightly traced her lips with his fingers and then shoved them in her mouth. She licked herself off his fingers hungrily and Shikamaru's cock rose, eliciting a small playful chuckle from Temari. He smiled back at her. His lips and chin glistened with Temari's slick. He licked it clean and then walked back to the chair. She throbbed for release but she could see Shikamaru had other plans.

Without further delay, Shikamaru picked up her towel and dried her hair as she sat still, bound by his jutsu. He dressed her up in her dark blue Yukata.

"Shikmaru, please, I won't be able to bear it," Temari said as Shikamaru tied her obi.

"Bear what?" he cooed in her ear and cocked his head innocently.

"You're a fucking bastard. How are you planning to do my hair? Obviously I can't step out like this." Temari fumed.

Shikamaru moved behind her as his shadows made her sit in front of the mirror. Her entire body ached from being controlled like a puppet for so long. She felt Shikamaru's fingers comb through her hair and her eyes closed.

When she opened her eyes finally, she gasped in surprise at how beautiful she looked. Shikamaru had perfectly done up her hair.

She also noticed a green clip he'd slid in one of her pony tails. It was a delicate branch of leaves, studded with small embralds. She was standing in front of him now, her body pressed against his.

"Where and when did you learn to do a girl's hair?"

"Oh, I have a few daughters spread around town. Why? Jealous?" mocked Shikamaru.

Temari glared at him.

"The clip is beautiful. Thank you."

"It suits you. Brings out your eyes." He murmured, unable to stop himself from kissing her jaw. He mentally kicked himself for saying something so cheesy instead of a simple welcome.

"Let's go, I've to show you around the Hanabi Matsuri, no?"

"B..but, Shikamaru?"

"Hmm?" he asked as he trailed his fingers along her long neck.

"My..my panties...?" Temari was blushing so hard that Shikamaru couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. He loved being cocky with her.

"No panties today," he whispered and spanked her ass loudly, making her jump as much as she could while being bound with his jutsu.

Only when they reached the Matsuri did Shikamaru free her of his jutsu. Finally free of him, she could do whatever she wanted to. She wanted him right then and there. But, there were so many people around, it was as good as being tied up.

"I'll be right behind you, Temari," whispered Shikamaru as he lightly squeezed her ass in the crowd. She could feel her thighs slipping against each other as she walked uncomfortably. She was still a slobbering mess and all of this teasing wasn't helping. Shikamaru was his usual self, not a hint of discomfort in his voice.

They went from stall to stall, eating and chatting, meeting up with everyone when Shikamaru caught her looking intently at a pair of kunai. She was caressing the blades and the handle, appreciating the craft.

"I can carve your name on it, too!" said the seller.

"Oh really? That's amazing!"

"What are you looking at?" Shikamaru leaned on the table full of decorative kunai as he popped a handful of peanuts in his mouth.

"Nothing, I really love this pair. It would look spectacular in my collection. I have a decorative pair from wherever I've been. Don't have one from Konoha for some reason."

"Hmm." He frowned. After a pause he said, a bit unsure, "Will you let me get these for you?"

"What? Why? No! I can get them. It's cool."

He took her hands in his and kissed her fingers.

"Yeah, I know. But I want to get these for you."

"I really couldn't. You got me the clip, too!"

"Who said the clip is yours?"

"Uhh... why'd you put it in my hair then?" embarrassed at the assumptions she'd made.

Shikamaru burst out laughing.

"I'm messing with you. I got the clip for you long back. Just...never got a chance to give it to you." A sad smile lingered on his face for a fraction of a seocnd. Temari blushed and looked away from his piercing gaze. What the hell was it with his eyes today. They just wouldn’t let her go.

"Please, let me get the kunai for you. It would mean so much to me." Shikamaru murmured softly against her hands.

"Hmm. Alright, I guess you owe me that much," she winked and gave him a shy smile.

Shikamaru's face lit up and he smiled so brightly that Temari wanted nothing more than to smother him with kissEd. He looked like a child who had just been given a box full of candies.

"I ..want to get today's date carved on it too."

"Yeah? Why?"

"I'd like to remember today."

"Why?" a shy smile spread across Shikamaru's face.

"Stop it."

"Here you go, love." He handed her the bag.

As Temari peeked into the packet, she heard Ino, Sakura, and Hinata coming over to them. When Naruto pulled Shikamaru aside to check out another stall, Ino pounced on the chance.

"How's it going, Temari?" asked Ino.

"Great! I'm just exploring. A little tired, really."

"Hmmmmm. Tired from the journey or....?" Ino teased knowingly and Sakura and Hinata laughed.

"What..what do you mean?" Temari asked, wide-eyed.

"Oh come on! We all know what you've been up to," said Sakura and winked at her.

"I have no idea what you girls are talking about."

"Temari, the three of us had come to pick you up at the inn because you weren't picking up your phone," Hinata jumped in, failing to keep a straight face. Temari's face went pale and she looked the other way.

"We could hear some very interesting noises so we thought we'll leave you be," Sakura giggled.

"Hey, it's alright. This'll stay between us. We're just messing with you." reassured Ino.

"We're happy for you Temari. This was long due. We've been rooting for you both." chimed in Hinata.

"Girls, he's killing me," Temari finally broke down.

"Well, you've been toying with him since years. Let him have some fun."

"I haven't been toying with him. I love him. He's just dense."

"He's anything but dense," Hinata cut Temari off and all three girls looked at her, surprised. "He's..he's not dense. Just really considerate."

"Sooooo, Te-ma-ri chan, is he any good in bed?" snickered Sakura to break the awkward silence.

"We...we haven't...we haven't really done anything yet," stuttered Temari.

"What? What was all that screaming and moaning out his name for?" probed Sakura. The girls couldn't stop giggling.

"Well...we..uh...he just..."

"What are you all gossiping about? Ino, 20 bucks if I win the shooting game." challenged Sai. He was walking over to the girls with Shikamaru, Sasuke, and Naruto.

"Ohhh? Let's see who wins then." Both of them walked to the shooting stall hand in hand. Sasuke noticed Temari blushing and he glanced at Shikamaru, amused.

"Do y'all wanna have Ramen?" asked Naruto. "Sure, let's go!" "Let's wait for Ino and Sai."

Ino returned victorious, mocking Sai. The 4 couples walked towards the ramen stall, bantering and mocking each other about something or the other. The crowd was thinning steadily, the after-hours of the festival full of laughter and chatter. Temari felt Shikamaru's hand snake around her waist.

"I can't wait to take this Yukata off off you, Temari," Shikamaru whispered. They'd fallen a few steps behind.

"You look so beautiful. I bet you're still wet from earlier." He spoke in a silky voice against the sweaty skin of her neck and softly bit her ear. His hand cupped her heat and Temari slapped his hand away, making him chuckle.

Temari stayed absolutely still. When she didn't say anything, Shikamaru frowned.

"What's... what's wrong?" Shikamaru asked, concerned. Back in his senses now, he faltered and blushed at what he'd just said and done.

Temari spoke hurriedly like a quick rainstorm, "Please, can we go back to the inn? Make me yours already. I've been yearning for you since so long. And now I know you have been, too. It's plain as day that we both want eachother, why won't you just take me back? Why subject me to all this waiting? Haven't we waited for so long already? It doesn't make any sense."

Shikamaru felt his knees giving away but he steadied himself and softened his tone. He turned her around and pecked her jaw and the insides of her wrists. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he said, "Just a little bit longer, love. Let's eat with the gang first. I promise I'll make you feel so good once we get home, princess." "Shikamaru, everyone...everyone knows about us..." "So?" "So? You're okay with that?" "Why wouldn't I be? I would like to make it very clear that you're mine." "Oh..."

"Oi, you two lovebirds. Get here quick. We'll lose our spot otherwise," shouted Naruto.

Shikamru grabbed her hand and walked towards the restaurant. They all settled in on the low outdoor benches and Shikamaru made Temari sit on his thigh, his left hand wrapped around her waist. Temari felt awkward at first but she leaned into him when she saw so many couples around her.

Even Hinata, the shyest of them all, was sitting in Naruto's lap, wrapped around him like a child. She blushed when she noticed Naruto's hand stroking Hinata's waist softly. She caught him whispering sweet nothings in Hinata's ears as Hinata smiled shyly. Sakura, too, was sitting between Sasuke's legs. Sasuke was putting a flower in her hair as he spoke about some mission with all of them. Ino's legs were in Sai's lap as he drew mindless circles on her thighs with his fingers.

The atmosphere was so drunken and happy and full of love that she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. There were fairy-lights everywhere and red lanterns swayed back and forth in the gentle wind. Flower petals and leaves blew around them. The laughter and cling and clatter of the utensils made her feel alive.

When they had ordered and were mid-conversation, Temari suddenly pecked Shikamaru on his cheek, stopping him mid-sentence. He raised his eyebrows and pecked her nose and continued talking about how he beat Asuma in a training session and everyone listened to him intently. She noticed that his hands never left her. She eased in completely, never having known such familiarity in an unfamiliar place. The sake was rich, the ramen was perfect, and the company was warm.

Late at night when all of them were buzzed and tired, they said their goodbyes. The three girls winked at Temari as she felt Shikamaru squeeze her ass for the tenth time that night. //

"I can't wait for the saucy details. I'm not letting Temari go without telling us everything." Sakura spoke hurriedly to Ino and Hinata.

"Temari is the one I was talking about earlier today, Sakura! I didn't think things would happen so fast! Did you see him, he didn't let her out of his sight or hands for a single second," Ino giggled.

"He's addicted! But, you both should just leave them be now. Don't go around spying on them!" Hinata laughed and blushed at the same time.

"Oh, he's more than addicted, I'm sure of it," said Ino.

"Hina, let's go babygirl," Naruto called out in a hoarse voice. Hinata blushed a deep red, knowing the girls will tease her about her nick-name forever now.

"Haha! Go on babygirl! See you tomorrow!" Ino and Sakura teased her. The girls giggled and hugged before leaving.

//

Temari and Shikamaru walked towards nowhere in particular.

"So, your place or mine?" asked Shikamaru. He chuckled as he stroked her face. He wanted to kiss her lips so much.

"How about yours?" Temari was finally in her element and she fingered is t-shirt like she had at the brunch. She looked at him with her deep green eyes and Shikamaru felt himself losing control.

"God, I want you so bad, Temari. Tsk. You've no idea." He held her hands and kissed her fingers.

They walked quietly, enjoying the cool breeze.

"Shikamaru, why haven't you ever made a move? I don't think that you've only just realised how I feel about you."

Shikamaru took a deep breath but stayed quiet.

"Well?"

He stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Temari, I am only going to say this once... All these years, I was scared that you were just playing with me. You've had several boyfriends, too. I've literally given you advice on how to make up with them. And so I never knew what to make of all your teasing and flirting. I didn't think you felt for me the way I do for you... In fact, I don't think you can ever feel for me the way I feel for you."

He paused.

"The last mission took a lot away from me, Temari. When I saw you today, toying with me again like that, something snapped in me. I acted on an impulse that I usually keep under control. But, seeing you react the way you did to me today told me more than enough." He gave her a small smile. Temari stood still, her face betrayed nothing.

"Let's go," whispered Shikamaru. "Hmm."

When they reached Shikamaru's flat, Temari spent a minute looking around. Everything was immaculate and in place. She was admiring all the photos on the wall when she felt Shikamaru quickly untie her obi. Her breath hitched in her throat and she softly moaned out his name.

"Hmm?"

"I wasn't toying with you. I never have."

"Yeah?"

"Hmm."

He had her naked and pressed against his body in a matter of seconds. He began to untie her hair but Temari stopped him. "Leave the clip be."

He bit the insides of his cheek to keep himself from smiling like an idiot. His hands roamed around her body hungrily. He kissed and nibbled at her neck and shoulders and she kept her hands on his as he trailed them all over her breasts and stomach, halting at her inner thighs. She moved her hips slowly against him.

He drew light circles around her left nipple and greedily squeezed her right thigh. Temari gasped at the pressure and Shikamaru turned her around. He held her face tenderly, pulled her close, and finally kissed her lips. He came alive under her touch. The greed with which Temari sucked on his lips made him shiver and lose breath. He smiled against her flesh and walked her towards the sofa in his living room, kissing her all the while. He made her sit down, lightly held her chin, and made her look up at him.

"Spread your legs, Temari," his voice hoarse from desire.

He held the backrest of the sofa with his left hand, dug his right knee on the sofa, and bent over her. Temari wrapped her hand around his left hand, and her other stroked his hair. He lightly touched her moist folds with two fingers and let out a small grunt at how wet she was. He lazily rubbed her clit, his eyes never leaving hers. He took in her supple body full of scars from missions. The way she, finally, fully arched her back at his touch, offering herself to him. The way her naked nipples hardened against his moist tongue. The way goosebumps decorated her entire body. Her reaction to his touch sent his mind in a chaos. What happened in the afternoon was nothing compared to how she blossomed under him now.

As soon as she tugged at his t-shirt, he removed his clothes, just his black briefs on him. Temari took him in, he looked like a sculpture. He appeared so lean clothed but his arms were huge and his chest was stunning. The light hair sprinkled all over softened his hard chest and chiselled face. Temari couldn't take her eyes off his torso, she was practically drooling. Shikamaru felt his face heating up at her gaze. He'd never been looked at like that.

"Like what you see, princess?" he spoke when he recovered from all her oggling.

"Hmm," she smiled coyly and bit her lips.

She saw his briefs stretching, the bulge too prominent to miss. She moved her face towards his clothed cock and licked the tip eliciting a groan from him. She moved her face to the side of his waist and tongued the waistband of his briefs. She took the waistband in between her teeth and pulled his briefs down. His cock slapped his stomach as it broke free from being constrained for so long. Shikamaru stayed absolutely still, breathing heavily, his eyes never leaving hers.

Temari gave his cock a slow, wet lick from the base to the tip and he twitched, lightly slapping her cheek. She showered it with moist kisses and fluttered her tongue around his pale pink and warm head.

"Fuck..." Shikamaru suddenly grabbed Temari and flipped her around.

"On your knees, ma'am."

Before Temari could even settle in, she felt his cock rubbing against at her clit. She looked back at him as she moved with him.

"So eager, Shika..ahh fuck,"

Shikamaru thrust three fingers inside her before she could complete her sentence, taking her by surprise. His other hand bunched up her hair. He moved his fingers hard and fast. He noticed Temari's toes curling and her head digging into the backrest. He leaned over her and kissed her back and neck before he spoke.

"You're doing so well baby, let me feel you cumming around my fingers," he spoke in a soft voice.

"I...I'm gonna...cum."

Shikamaru felt his heart beating like a hummingbird as he felt Temari clench around his fingers and he felt a warmth coating his hands and his cock. She whimpered quietly, her voice lost from the powerful orgasm, at finding the release she had been denied all day. Shikamaru pulled out his fingers, positioned his cock at her cunt, and dug his hands in her waist as he slowly began to enter her.

"Shika..Shikmaru, plea.. I can't.." Temari panted, still recovering from her orgasm.

"Shhh, you're taking me so well baby, just a little bit more." He slowed down even more, giving her time to adjust. Her thighs shivered as she eased around him and took him in.

"You're easing around me just fine, princess. I promise I'm gonna be slow." murmured Shikamaru against her flesh.

He slowly started moving and increased his pace, and Temari's moans got louder with each thrust, till she was screaming out his name, till she was babbling nonsense. His hands travelled everywhere across her body hungrily. Shikamaru's face burned, his heart fluttered, and he felt like a million little butterflies had just taken birth in his belly. He never wanted to hear anything else from Temari except whatever escaped her petal-like lips as he fucked her. She held his hand tight.

"Fuck..ahh" He loved the way she cussed in a small voice before he felt her gushing around him again; the profanity morphed into something lovely coming from her wet mouth. He felt himself buckling as he thrust himself inside her hard and pulled out, eliciting an ungodly voice from Temari.

He flipped her around again, and positioned himself between her legs. He entered her again, slowly, and cupped her right breast with his hand and took her left nipple in his mouth. A sigh of relief left Temari's lips as she stroked his hair.

He moved in and out of her gently and his lips made their way up to her neck, nibibling and kissing her chest and shoulders and arms till he buried his face in her neck, settling in.

Temari's hands roamed all over his body and finally came to rest on his shoulders, her legs were hitched around his waist. She could see his back and hips flex with each thrust. It made her clench harder around him and arch her back into him. They moved together, taking each other in as much as they could, Shikamaru nibbled and sucked on her neck and she circled her tongue around his earrings.

He panted and her broken sighs followed with every thrust. They were lost in the way they both came undone with each other, the messy, sloppy sound of his cock moving in and out of her the only thing that pulled them back to reality.

"Shikamaru, I'm gonna.. gonna...unfff."

He could feel her tightening around him like never before before she suddenly loosened up. She came around his cock, growing so wet that he slipped out of her. He pushed himself back inside her, making her bite his neck, and started fucking her relentlessly. Overstimulated, Temari suddenly shivered violently and squirted.

"That's it, love. Such a good girl."

He didn't break his pace and Temari's nails dug into his back, scratching him everywhere. Shikamaru grit his teeth so he wouldn't make a sound as she used his body to calm down. After what seemed like like a blissful eternity of short and quick thrusts, Shikamaru pulled out again and sat up on the sofa, his legs spread open. He kissed the entirety of her legs, waiting for her to recover from her orgasm. When he saw she'd calmed down, he held Temari's waist and brought her on top of him.

"I want to watch you," he murmured against her breasts. The intensity with which he looked at her made Temari uncontrollably shy and she felt a raw heat taking flight in her belly and face.

"Haven't you watched me enough already?" she panted, still out of breath, hinting at what he'd done to her after brunch.

"It's never going to be enough."

She breathed heavily on his skin as she felt his cock twitching against her clit. She involuntarily moved against his hardness, making him grunt.

Shikamaru traced her outline and took her breasts in his mouth, sucking and nibbling at them, as she moved slowly. She took his cock in her hand and positioned it, and then sat on him in one go, making Shikamaru throw his head back and dig his fingers in her hips.

"fuck."

He recovered and watched her slowly grind against him and sucked a breath in through his gritted teeth.

"Fuck, Temari, you're dri... what the hell?" his head suddenly snapped at the windows. He looked pissed, his eyebrows suddenly sharper. Confused, Temari looked at the windows as well.

Shikamaru drew the curtains shut with his shadows. They heard giggles and quick footsteps outside until everything went quiet.

"I bet it's Sakura and Ino," giggled Temari.

He felt her tighten around him.

"Oh, you like that, huh? Being watched like that?"

"N..no! They've been after my life for ‘details’."

"Would you like to put a show on for the girls?" he asked in a small whisper. He felt her clench around him again. He twitched inside her, at the thought of everyone watching him make her his. "I think it's you who'd like to put on a show, no?" challenged Temari.

Shikamaru blushed and then came alive with a child-like laughter. He held her head and brought it to his neck. He kissed her head and then without a warning, he started fucking her hard, and faster, than before. She bit down on his neck, marking him pink and purple, as he fucked her till she lost her voice and came around him in quick successions again. Spent and tired, she clung to him like a child. Shikamaru got up and carried her upstairs to the bedroom, all the while throbbing inside her.

He laid her down on his bed and spooned her. Shikamaru was hard as a rock and ready to go but he knew Temari was too spent. He gave her small nibbles and bites as he traced her body with his hands, fingering all her scars.

"You never said anything, you know?

"What do you mean?"

"When I said I love you."

"Hmm. Should I have said something?"

"Yes," she replied curtly.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"I don't know. Anything."

"Let me say it to you in my way?" he murmured.

"And what way is that?" she turned her head to look at him, frowning.

He made her lick his hands and stroked his cock, wetting it before he entered her ever so slowly. He lifted her leg and hooked it on his arm as they both looked deep into each other's eyes. Both of them gasped as his balls kissed her clit. Temari felt fuller than before and Shikamaru's face felt hot.

"Rub yourself," Shikamaru whispered.

Temari immediately complied and he felt her ass digging into his belly. He moved inside of her in slow and hard thrusts for a while before Temari felt his pace faltering. He looked at her and raised his eyebrows in question. She bit her lip and nodded quickly.

Temari came around him again. She couldn't bear how intimate it all was. The moment she tightened around him, he grunted, hid his face in her hair, and came inside of her, his warmth spreading everywhere inside her.

They both passed out before Shikamaru had a chance to slip out of her.

Right before sunrise, Shikmaru woke up, his limp cock still buried in Temari. He pulled out slowly and Temari stirred. He covered her up with a blanket and went to the washroom to freshen up. Itching for a cigarette, he went downstairs to his balcony. He lightly pinched himself to check if he was in a dream. Then he muttered at his own stupidity. When he made his way upstairs, she was snoring lightly. He sat beside her. After an hour or so of just observing her, he felt himself getting hard. He leaned his head back on the headrest. "Mendukse onna," he muttered under his breath, genuinely tired of his own arousal for her.

He slowly moved between her legs and started to lightly nibble at her clit. He placed small kisses on her mound. When he couldn't control himself, he dove in, lapping up her pussy messily. She sighed and moaned deeply as she rose from her deep sleep. She jerked and came quickly on his tongue.

"Morning, baby," Shikamaru murmured against her spasming thighs. "Morning," Temari whispered, slightly out of breath.

He quickly came up to spoon her again and showered her neck with kisses, making her laugh. That same laugh that had made him realise he'd fallen in love with her. That same laugh that had made him realise that he didn't only appreciate her as a friend, didn't only have immense respect for her, didn't only have this need to be a better person for her, but also wanted her to be entirely his. He kissed her lips deeply, his heart beating so loudly he thought he would faint. They lay there, kissing each other for a long time.

"Shikamaru, I want...I want a life with you." "Me too, baby," he whispered against her back. "I want...I want a nice house with you, I want to take care of you, I want to go on missions with you." He stilled. After a brief pause, she mustered the courage to say something she'd only ever dreamed of. "I want... I want a child with you." His eyes widened. It took him a moment to recover but to Temari's surprise he took it quite well. "Yeah? Only if it'll have your eyes." "And your hair," she said way too quick. "But, only after some time. I want to spend time with you first. I want your undivided attention for a while."

He turned her around and kissed her deep again. He then held her waist and made her sit on his face. Temari gasped.

"I can't get enough of you Temari. Stay for a while. Please don't go back just yet." He spoke against her thighs. He lazily licked her swollen clit, taking his sweet time. She rode his face slow and then gradually increased her pace to match the messy and quick way his tongue loved her. She moaned his name hoarsely as she gushed around his mouth again. She felt him smiling against her throbbing wetness.

She moved to sit down on his groin, rubbing his cock against her wetness. Shikamaru folded his hands behind his head as he watched her sleepily. As she took him inside her, he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. She slowly moved on top of him, her breasts hovered over his chest and face.

"Cum for me, Shikamaru," she whispered as she increased her pace. She felt his balls harden and scrunch up against her ass and he shivered and moaned out her name. He thrusted her hard thrice and Temari felt him cumming inside her again. She lied down on top of him and he stroked her hair, her clip shone bright in the soft morning sunlight.

He kissed her forehead. "I love you."

///

Afterthoughts

I think the whole idea of Ino and Sakura being so nosy really fits in well with the whole dynamic. I really enjoyed crafting the dialogue. I think the slightly voyeuristic undertone to this piece has really been derived from Ino and Choji spying on ShikaTema in the anime. A lot of fanart also has Ino and Choji in the background. And so, it isn’t really kinky or dirty sex here, but more about bringing out that old-school friendship that Shikamaru shares with Ino and others.

I have deliberately removed Choji from this piece. I don’t know but I dont think I can ever write Choji well. I also feel that Shikamaru would actually share girl problems with Ino or Naruto. But for all other life stuff, he would actually talk to Choji. I also really enjoyed writing the internal struggle that Shikamaru faced. The hair clip was really only put in the story to bring out his need to plan and prepare for something that he knows is totally out of his control.

I found it tough to write Temari’s strong character at first (specially in the scene where she’s kinda tied up) but I realised that she doesn’t have to be strong with and around Shikamaru. That’s largely what draws me to them. The whole idea of both of these calm and strong characters going batshit crazy for each other is really an HC for me, haha. Both of them are so secure in and sure of each other’s strength - they really don’t have to put up a facade.

The scene where Shikamaru buys the Kunai for Temari is really a manifestation of his respectful love™ for Temari. He wants to buy her the world but he also understands that she’s fully capable of doing that herself. He understands that she has a strong sense of ‘I can get stuff done on my own’ and doesn’t want to step on it. He merely wants to feel included in her life. He wants to get her things that will remind her of him when he’s away. He wants to be in every corner of her life, as he wants her to be in every corner of his life. Idk if I am articulating this well but this is a dynamic I really fkn DIG.

[moldisgoodforyou]

92 days

source: @obi-kin​

warnings: mentions of sexual content, cursing 

wordcount: 2k

________

“Rafe, if you’re just gonna hang around, make yourself useful and start packing.” Sophie directed. He had been extra clingy in the month before she left (though she didn’t mind one bit), and was currently trying to tug her down onto the bed while she laid out clothes for her trip.

“Or, hear me out, what if you stayed and didn’t go at all?” He leaned over and hooked his fingers in the belt loop of her jeans, pulling her down onto his lap.

She frowned. “It’s only three months, baby -”

“I know, I know.” He quickly cut her off with a kiss, not wanting to make her feel bad. She’d picked up the pet name for him recently, and he suspected it was mainly out of her feeling a little guilt for leaving him, but he didn’t question it for a second. His hands found their familiar resting place on the curve of her hips. “I’m kidding, it’s okay. I know how long you’ve been dreaming of this.”

Sophie brightened a little and gave him a longer kiss, running her fingers through his hair before she climbed off his lap. “I’ll facetime you at least once a week, and I’ll call as much as I can. Okay?”

“Just once a week?” He scowled, flopping back into the bed when she moved off him. “That doesn’t sound like nearly enough talking.”

“Probably more, but I don’t know how busy I’ll be. I don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep.” She kept carefully folding her shirts, her tongue poking out a little in concentration as she tried to get the perfect space-saving fold she’d seen in one of many packing YouTube videos she’d watched.

He smiled, just watching her for a moment. “What if you facetime me when you’re getting lunch? If you’re alone?”

She cocked her head. “You want to just sit there and watch me eat?”

“Well...yeah. I like just being around you.” He gestured to her suitcases and her current task at hand. “S’not like every conversation has to be riveting.”

Sophie smirked, teasing. “Aw, Rafe, you’re gonna miss me.”

He scowled again and stood, sliding both his arms securely around her from behind. “Course I’m gonna miss you. That’s...I don’t know how many days without you.”

She leaned back into him and rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment. “92. Until you visit.”

“Christ.” He mumbled into her hair, not having realized how long it truly was. He tried not to let himself think about it and to just enjoy their time while they were still physically together instead. “I’m visiting for two whole weeks, then I’m bringing you home with me.” He grinned and pressed a kiss to her temple. “And I was thinking...what if we didn’t stay in Barcelona the whole time?”

She turned in his arms, looking up at him curiously. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. If you’re down. I know you’re doing a few trips while you’re there, but. Maybe I could plan it for us?”

She furrowed her brow a little. “Like a surprise?”

“No, I know you hate those.” He grinned knowingly as she gave him a sheepish smile. “We could pick the places together though, and I can figure out all the logistics and stuff.” Before she could open her mouth again, he sensed her hesitation and quickly added, “And I want to take care of it. All of it.”

“Rafe -” She started to protest, thinking of his typical standard for vacations he’d been on with his family.

“Please? We can stay in cool student hostels and take train rides and everything, I won’t make it fancy. Promise.” He gave her a forehead kiss in hopes of convincing her, knowing that usually broke her down.

“Hm...” She glanced up, seeming to calculate the days in her head. “At least give me three days to show you around in Barcelona, and we have a deal. But I get to pick the hostels.”

He grinned, giving her a big kiss. “You got it.”

She smiled back against his lips, leaning more into him as he slid his hands under the hem of her shirt and up her sides, distracted for a moment. After a couple minutes of slow, lazy kissing, she pulled away when he teasingly bit her lower lip. “Wait, no, I have to pack -”

“No, Soph -” He groaned, trying to kiss her again. She dodged it and his lips brushed against her ear instead, then she pushed him back a little with one hand on his chest. “Let me finish this suitcase and then we can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” He raised his eyebrows, slowly smirking.

“Um...sure. I just need to finish folding these tops, then throw in socks and underwear. Put yourself to use and grab mine?” She gave him a quick kiss before slipping out of his loose grip, turning back to the bed to start folding.

He grinned and strolled over to her dresser behind her back, pulling out multiple lacy pairs that were hardly considered functional, until he found a sheer black bra with lace trim and little flowers embroidered on it shoved in the very back of the drawer. “Sophie Flint!”

She whipped around to see it dangling from his finger and stalked over, grabbing it away. “I didn’t say root around in the drawers!”

“You told me to pack! Why have you never worn that before?!”

She hid it behind her back, cheeks growing red. “It was supposed to be a surprise!”

“I mean, shit, consider me surprised.” A slow smirk spread across his face and he turned back to the drawer. “Is it a matching set?”

She jumped in front of the drawer, shaking her head quickly. “Stop, I don’t want you to see the rest.”

“There’s more?!”

“You’re ruining the surprise!” She laughed, trying to nudge him back with just her foot. “And the underwear you picked out is horrible, am I supposed to work out in a lacy thong? I rarely ever wear these.”

“I see absolutely no issue with that.” He grinned, trying to reach around her to grab the bra again. “I want to see that on you.”

“No, Rafe, not yet -”

“You leave in three days. How many more do you have?”

“Well maybe they weren’t all for you to see before I left.”

He frowned, tilting his head. “I don’t get it.”

“Think, Cameron.” She successfully nudged him away and stashed the bra back in her drawer, along with the underwear he picked out.

He stood there, extra confused. “It’s not for someone else.”

“Right.”

“But I can’t see it before you leave.”

“Correct.”

She swore she could see the wheels turning in his head. “Oh? Do you mean - ?”

She grinned, confirming his suspicions. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. You’ll have to wait and see.”

His eyes lit up and he grabbed her around the waist abruptly, lifting her off the ground. “Tell me!”

Sophie giggled, squirming in his arms. “I’m not gonna tell you! Let me go!”

He laughed and tossed her onto the bed unceremoniously, then leaned over her, skating his fingers up her sides. She pushed on his chest gently, shaking her head with a smile. “Rafe, c’mon.”

He crawled over her and kissed her, long and slow. When he finally pulled away to take a breath, his fingers tangled in her hair, he sighed. “God, I’m gonna miss the hell out of you.”

She frowned and cupped his cheek, keeping him close. “Stop, I don’t want to think about it just yet. Don’t get sad on me.”

Rafe rolled over to lay next to her, head propped up on his elbow. “Promise me you won’t leave me for some handsome Spaniard?”

“I would never, don’t even joke about it.” She scowled and he instinctively reached out, smoothing his thumb over the bridge of her nose. She immediately broke into a grin. “Eres mía, pase lo que pase.”

“Hey, don’t forget your boyfriend is stupid and only knows English.” He teased, leaning over to kiss her again.

“You’re not stupid, I don’t like when you say that.” She frowned and kissed him harder, as if it was reassurance. “I said you’re mine, no matter what.”

“I like the sound of that.” He nudged his nose against hers, just wanting to be impossibly close. “We’re gonna be okay, right?”

“Yeah. We’ll be just fine.” Sophie reached out and pulled him closer, wrapping her arm around his waist. “Wish I could take you with me.”

“That’d be a hell of a lot more fun than my dad’s office.” His face fell just thinking about it. “It’s gonna be so boring.”

“Didn’t you apply to that internship?” She questioned, cocking her head. “So you could stay here with Colin?”

“Yeah, I haven’t heard back yet though. And it wouldn’t start ‘til the middle of June, so I would have to be at home for a while anyways.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it. You’re smart, you know that. Don’t get in your head like you do.” Sophie started kissing along his jawline, down his neck.

He let his eyes fall shut and his head drop back, practically melting under her touch. “Hey. Angel.”

“Hm?” She hummed against his skin, pushing the hem up his shirt up his chest. Rafe threaded his fingers through her hair, letting out a satisfied noise when she started working at his belt. “Aren’t you - don’t you -”

She glanced up, amused by how easy she could distract him. “Use your words, handsome.” She nipped along his hipbone, soothing over the spots with her tongue right after.

“Your packing...” He mumbled.

“Oh!” She rolled off him immediately and he groaned when her hand brushed over his length, then reached out for her. “Wait, no, Soph, don’t leave me hanging -”

“Give me ten minutes and I can finish this suitcase.” She promised, her other task at hand instantly forgotten as she started folding more clothes.

“Sophieee.” He whined, drawing out the vowels. “Three minutes.”

“Eight.”

“Five.”

“Seven. Or help me, and it can be five.”

“You already yelled at me for folding something the wrong way earlier,” he pointed out with a grumble.

“Okay, so seven.” She shot him a grin and he shook his head, sighing. “You’re the biggest tease I’ve ever met.”

“I’m not teasing! I told you I had to pack even if you came over!” She replied, indignant. “It’s not my fault, I get distracted when it comes to you.”

“Yeah?” He propped himself up on his elbows, grinning.

“Yeah. You’re pretty.”

He blushed and immediately went to rub the back of his neck, flustered. “Pretty? You mean handsome.”

“No, I mean pretty.” She laughed and leaned over, running her finger along the contours of his face. “I like your cheekbones, and your strong jaw, and the way your hair flops into your eyes when it gets a little too long.”

“Soph.” He scowled, poking his tongue out to lick her finger when she ran it over her lips. She laughed, wiping it on his cheek. “Gross. I like your lips - and what they can do to me -”

“Dirty girl.” He grinned and she shoved at his chest. “Shut up, I’m not done. I like when you don’t shave for a few days and you get this shadow, it makes you look a little older and it’s really hot.” She paused, skating her knuckle along his jawline. “But don’t take that as an invitation to grow a beard.”

“I’m gonna try when you’re gone. Just for kicks.” He teased.

She rolled her eyes and pulled away to finish packing, tucking the last shirt into her carefully placed sections then zipped it shut easily. “There, done. I’m all yours.”

He grinned and tugged her back down on top of him immediately, hands going straight to her waist. “That’s what I like to hear.”

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23

[ahgaseda]

aura | three

driving me crazy, look in my eyes, follow me, come here, dance with me now, I’m gonna make you feel like that...

summary : back again at a camp for kids that can’t behave, you are still brokenhearted over your ill-fated romance with Jaebeom, until your friend Jackson offers to help make your ex jealous in exchange for helping him land the most unattainable girl at camp.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, recurring alcohol or recreational drug use, graphic sexual content, brief mentions of illegal activities, potentially triggering elements involving toxic relationships and emotional manipulation, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

Every step down the path was slowed by dread and anxiety. The auditorium sat on a small hill, looming over the rest of the camp, and the sight made your stomach turn each time you laid eyes on it.

Such an unassuming building and yet it still shot nerves through you.

Entering through the double doors, you were blasted by air conditioning, which was a bit excessive with the crisp morning air. You simpered when you made eye contact with a few of the other campers. It was a small group, as to be expected for these little sessions.

Then, your gaze shifted to the wall where Jaebeom was leaning back and had just looked up at the sound of the door opening.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned, wanting to march right back out. Fate was such a cruel bitch.

Jaebeom cocked his head at your reaction, following you with his eyes, and asked sweetly, “Sleep well?”

“Yes,” you replied, curt, avoiding his stare.

Jaebeom shifted closer and whispered, “Did you think of me last night?”

If only you knew how you had filled his thoughts and dreams. Those kisses in the pool still made his heart race.

Smirking with a chance to torment him, you retorted, “Not even once. My mind is full of Jackson and how good his head looked between my thighs.”

Jaebeom frowned, the blood draining from his face. Hearing about your escapades with Jackson made him insane, like being dragged through pieces of broken glass.

“That bastard,” Jaebeom huffed under his breath.

Your arrogance faded and you turned somber. Part of you realized that you were giving yourself away to spite him. It was like trying to heal a burn by directly applying more fire.

Doctor Ambrose stepped inside, greeting everyone with her signature smile. “Good morning. Are we ready to begin?”

No one was. Not one of these poor souls wanted to discuss their daddy or mommy issues in group form. But it was mandated by the camp and having been attending for many years, you were accustomed to dodging.

You and the others followed Doctor Ambrose into the main auditorium, approaching a ring of folding chairs waiting on the stage. You swallowed the lump in your throat and avoided a look at Jaebeom as you took a seat.

This was the room where it happened - where you surrendered your virtuous flower. Blah, blah, blah, you thought to yourself. Eventually, you were going to have to come to terms with the fact you were less bitter about losing your virginity and more broken at having lost your heart.

The theater was the one place no one bothered to lock after curfew since it was solely used for group sessions and the occasional motivational speech, but if someone did remember to lock up, the door code was common knowledge. Guys went there to blaze up. Girls went to sneak drinks.

Jaebeom had brought you inside. The relationship had grown and was leading to a physical consummation of your feelings for each other. You knew exactly what would happen. After all, you had snuck out of your cabin in the middle of the night to meet a boy beneath the stars.

You let him lay you down on the stage, behind the heavy velvet curtain. Jaebeom at least had the wherewithal to put his jacket down for you to rest on.

You stole a glance of the shadow behind the curtain, not too far from where you sat, and your expression soured. You could still remember the rampant beating of your heart when Jaebeom kissed you with all he had and laid you down beneath him.

The memory raced across your mind in steady bursts. Your eyes burned at how gentle he had been with you, how loving. Jaebeom convinced you that he was madly in love and that there was a future between you and him.

And you were such a fool to believe it. You were over the moon thinking you had finally found love in the most unlikely of places. With someone you trusted. Someone you considered a friend.

Taking a deep breath, you were officially angry.

The time spent with Jackson had taken off the rose-colored glasses. You were able to see your affair with Jaebeom for what it was. And though you were still hopelessly in love with him, you were mad as hell for what he had done to you.

Doctor Ambrose called your name and began, “Let’s start with you. Why don’t you tell us the behavior that warranted your presence back at camp this year?”

You crossed your legs and sang, “Oh, where to begin, Doc? I lied. I cheated. I stole. Short of murder, my rap sheet is long.”

“You’ve been coming here for many years and you know that’s not what these sessions are about,” she chided, giving you a stern look. “Skip the bravado and get straight to the real talk.”

You narrowed your eyes. Ambrose always did hit the nail on the head. That’s why she was one of the few people at this godforsaken place that held everyone’s respect. Which was impressive in its own right since you and your fellow rich, troubled kids had very little respect for anyone.

But if Doctor Ambrose thought you were going to bear your soul to a room full of people that didn’t give a damn about you - Jaebeom included - she was sorely mistaken.

You sighed and continued, “I’m sure it’s common knowledge by now that I had a terrible lapse in judgement last summer and that lapse in judgement had a lot of unforeseen consequences.”

Jaebeom was unmoving in his seat, but his eyes were heavy on you.

Ambrose gave you her undivided attention and spoke softly, “Go on.”

You shrugged, hoping to hide just how miserably the words were coming from your mouth. “I lashed out. I cycled through all of my emotions and when they were too painful, I did something bad. Something that distracted me from how angry or hurt I was. Classic reckless human behavior.”

Her response was blunt, but genuine, “It’s called self-destructive behavior and you were punishing yourself for the pain someone else inflicted on you.”

You studied her, wanting to smack this woman across the face for defining you in a single sentence. “Forget psychiatrist,” you scoffed. “You’re a psychic.”

“I know you,” Ambrose said tenderly. “And you are not defined by your mistakes.”

You rolled your eyes, though you would love to believe that. “We all are, Doctor Ambrose,” you told her morosely. Then, your tone shifted, “Now, please take the spotlight off of me before I do something bad. Like I said, it’s what I’m known for.”

Ambrose exhaled loudly, conflicted, but decided not to push you. Turning to the next participant, she called, “Jaebeom, your turn.”

Jaebeom was still looking at you.

“Why don’t you tell us the activities that landed you back for yet another summer here?”

Jaebeom grumbled, “I’m a dick. The end.”

A few of the other attendees chortled.

“Jaebeom, everyone here knows you’re more complex than that,” Ambrose shot back.

“Am I?”

She cocked her head. “You don’t think so.”

“Ask her,” Jaebeom said, waving his hand in your direction. “Everyone knows what I did.”

You didn’t dare look at him, offering no absolution. You kept your gaze firmly rooted to Doctor Ambrose, who was now glancing between the two of you suspiciously.

Tapping her pen, Ambrose ordered, “After this group session I want to see both of you in my office.”

Your heart sank and you pleaded, “But, Doctor Ambrose…”

“Moving on,” she cut you off.

You folded your arms tightly across your chest in defiance, stiff in your seat. Jaebeom stretched out his legs and braced his arms on his thighs, keeping his head low.

Tuning out the conversations going around the circle of other campers discussing their toxic and sometimes illegal activities, you could only think about how angry you were. How it was billowing and growing inside of you until it threatened to burst.

Though Jaebeom was in the seat beside yours, he felt an entire world away. What had you done to him to deserve this? And for fuck’s sake, why couldn’t you stop loving him? If you fell in love with someone, couldn’t you ultimately fall back out?

Stealing a glance in the corner of your eye, Jaebeom looked up at that same moment and your eyes met. You looked away immediately, bitter and vengeful, but Jaebeom persisted. For someone who prided himself on being set in his ways, he couldn’t stand how you spun him on his edge.

You made him want to risk it all.

When the group session ended, Ambrose twirled the pen between her fingers and said, “I suppose we can forgo my office and just speak here.”

“We have nothing to talk about,” Jaebeom spoke up, venomous.

“I think there’s plenty,” she asserted, studying you intently. “Wanna tell me about it?”

Your eyes glistened when they met hers. You wanted to tell her she was right. That you had punished yourself for a year because you fell for a boy - the wrong boy. It was stupid. It was juvenile. And you resented yourself to hell and back for it.

“You wouldn’t understand,” you finally murmured, voice shaky.

She smiled, comforting. “Try me.”

Jaebeom could see you were about to crack. He could hear the weakness seeping into your words. Running a hand through his hair, he blurted out, “It’s my fault.”

Ambrose questioned levelly, “How so?”

“Be quiet,” you hissed.

“I fucked up,” Jaebeom confessed.

“Language,” she corrected loosely.

Jaebeom frowned. “I seduced her. I convinced her I was in love.”

“And were you?”

“No, I…,” Jaebeom trailed, like he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “I don’t know.”

You glared with nothing short of loathing at the floor.

Ambrose was putting the pieces together and she didn’t hesitate to scold, “What was your purpose, Jaebeom? What were you trying to achieve?”

Jaebeom paused a moment. Then, he finally admitted, “I was trying to get her into bed.”

Ambrose clocked a glance at you and said, “I’m assuming you succeeded.”

Your breaths came faster. Your heart was revving like the engine of Jackson’s blood red Corvette. Any minute you were going to explode.

“I went too far,” Jaebeom mulled, scratching his head. “I had never gone that far before, but I was addicted. I had no idea it would… I didn’t know she would…”

“You’re full of shit,” you snapped.

Doctor Ambrose called your name, giving you the same warning about profanity.

You leveled your scowl at Jaebeom, who had already bowed his head in submission or shame, and sneered, “I will never believe a word you say. You knew exactly what you were doing. You wanted someone to hurt as much as you hurt.”

Jaebeom still couldn’t meet your eyes. Pathetic, he thought to himself, but he couldn’t face your wrath. He couldn’t see the pain manifested on your beautiful face.

“Congratulations,” you continued, rising to your feet. “I know how you feel and I almost derailed my life because of you!”

Ambrose held out a hand amicably. “Please, sit.”

“No, I’m out of here,” you barked, gritting your teeth to keep the tears at bay. “And if you plan on physically making me stay in the same room with this asshole a minute longer, my stepfather’s attorneys would love to blow this shit wide open.”

Doctor Ambrose gave you a nod and sat back down.

Your steps echoed through the frigid silence of the auditorium and you nearly knocked the doors off their hinges when you pushed them open to escape outside.

When you had gone, Jaebeom exhaled heavily.

Ambrose looked at him. She could see the guilt weighing down his shoulders and though she didn’t want to take pity on him after what you had just revealed, compassion was a cornerstone of who she was as a person.

“Jaebeom, it goes without saying, but I’m going to say it,” Ambrose whispered for his ears only. “Breaking other people doesn’t fix you.”

Jaebeom stood to full height without another word and skulked away, hiding his teary eyes behind his long black hair.

“The nerve of that bitch! I know that she knows what happened last summer,” you vented, pacing back and forth in front of Jackson as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Everyone on the east coast knows by now. I had to hear about it for the first month of school on a daily basis!”

“I know,” Jackson replied patiently.

You tried to mimic the voices of the nosy, gossiping girls back home, “‘Can you believe she spread her legs for him? Did she really think he loved her? I thought she was smart. Turns out she’s a dumb whore like the rest of us!’”

Jackson grimaced. He remembered that morning, when you told him you slept with Jaebeom. You were so happy, so sure of what you wanted. And he knew it was going to unravel, leaving you holding all the pieces. “No one said that.”

“Everyone said that, Jacks! Admit it,” you yelled.

Of course, they did. Jackson had never threatened so many people in his life. Jackson had a lot of friends, but he only had one best friend. Whenever they spoke of you and Jaebeom, it made his skin crawl. Made his fists clench on instinct.

He was supposed to protect you.

Jackson rose from the bed, grasping your arms and staring you in the face. “Who cares what other people say? I sure as shit don’t!”

You cast your gaze down, shifting from angry to sad. “And he really sat there acting like he didn’t think I would take it so personally,” you whispered, trembling.

Jackson gathered you in his arms, squeezing tight. “He’s an idiot. It is known,” he quipped dryly.

You pulled back and sighed, “Maybe we should just fuck.”

Jackson frowned, but quickly hid his disappointment with a swift, “I’m not in the mood.”

You quirked a brow. “Seriously?”

Jackson released you and teased, “Yeah, I’m not a faucet.”

You let a smirk play at your lips and reached for his belt. “What if I…”

Jackson grabbed your wrists and chided you so sternly you almost faltered, “Listen. You are more than sex. You understand me?”

There were very few occasions Jackson reprimanded you and he always snared your full attention when it happened. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you murmured, “...Okay.”

Jackson simpered. “You don’t need to fuck. You need a hug.”

You chuckled, squeaking in surprise when he pulled you to his chest faster than you thought possible. You smiled, burying your face against his neck as he enveloped you in his embrace.

It was exactly what you needed.

You set your hands to his shoulders, feeling burly muscles underneath. Jackson always radiated heat and energy, and you were content to let him hold you forever. Jackson was warmth and safety.

He was home.

After a moment, you blurted to alleviate the tension, “Can we go get food?”

Jackson exclaimed, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The two of you walked arm in arm to the mess hall. It had been ungodly, the hour you woke to attend your group therapy session, but it meant you were starving for breakfast and the smell that hit your nose when you entered the dining room made you salivate on the spot.

Approaching the line, Jackson said, “Damn it. I forgot to tell you I’m sitting with Yeona today.”

“Oh,” you replied, remembering you didn’t get a chance to talk to him much after you had pounced on him. “I take it everything went well last night.”

“Yeah, we hit it off. I’m laying the groundwork.”

You rolled your eyes. Part of you was rooting in Yeona’s corner, that she stick to her guns and save herself for someone who loved her. The other part felt guilty as hell for being part of the same scheme that destroyed you last summer.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you told him, “I think I want some alone time to myself anyway. I’ll sit in the corner.”

Jackson eyed you worriedly. “Are you sure? I can totally blow her off.”

“Positive,” you insisted, beaming at the gesture. “Go with Yeona. You two would make a really cute couple.”

“Ha. Ha,” said Jackson in mock laughter.

Together you got your food and then parted in the aisleway. Yeona smiled when Jackson joined her by the window and you vaguely wished happiness for them. Jackson wasn’t like Jaebeom. 

Maybe Yeona would be good for Jackson. She could help him work through his commitment issues. You had seen firsthand what his parents’ marriage had done to him. It was no surprise he broke off relationships as soon as they started to become serious.

Taking the empty table in the corner, you backed against the wall. Pulling a magazine out of your purse, you placed it next to your tray and opened to a random page, biting into your toasted bagel.

Jaebeom leaned against the adjacent door frame, hands in his pockets. He was sporting his trademarked leather jacket and his hair had strayed into his eyes while watching you.

He was at war with himself over what to say.

First and foremost he wanted to apologize, but Lim Jaebeom had way too much pride for that. Secondly, he considered offering you a better deal than whatever Jackson was giving you, but given your furor at the group session, Jaebeom knew better than to stoke your wrath again.

Jaebeom thought of all those times last summer when he caught himself staring at you. How could someone so beautiful and amazing be interested in the likes of him? You were confident and fearless, a little rough around the edges with a heart of gold. You were everything he aspired to be and you brought out the best in him without even knowing it.

By then, Jaebeom was in too deep. He could feel himself falling for you and he forbade himself from ever putting his heart on the line. And so he cut you loose.

Jaebeom remembered your face when he spoke those words. I never loved you. The joy left your face. The light fled your eyes. With four words, he had broken someone completely and it kept him awake at night.

Sex was a release for him. No more, no less. Jaebeom could fuck a girl and never see her again afterward, and it wouldn’t bother him for a second. After her - the woman that loved and left him - Jaebeom didn’t attach sex with emotion and certainly not intimacy or commitment.

Then, he had you. Suddenly, he wanted to wake up to you in the morning. He wanted to fall asleep in your arms every night. He didn’t fuck you… he made love to you. He felt passion for the first time in a long time. When it was over, he didn’t want to leave like he had always done. And that scared the shit out of him.

Jaebeom realized you had begun to heal him and he panicked.

Even now, Jaebeom wanted you back. He needed another chance. His first instinct was always to run when he felt emotions he didn’t understand, but he could fight back this time. He could change for you, couldn’t he?

When Jaebeom slid into the seat beside you, you weren’t the least bit surprised.

“What are you reading?” he asked nonchalantly, picking up the magazine and fanning the pages.

“Chick magazine,” you deadpanned. “There’s an article in there on Ten Ways to Achieve Female Orgasm. You should read it.”

Another snide jab at his bedroom skills. Jaebeom wrinkled his nose, but rebuffed you, “I only got one round with you. How do you know I couldn’t give you the best loving of your life?”

It was a provocative thought. You felt your heart stutter a little, but your mind was fully in control now, and you shot back, “Because I don’t think you know what love is.”

Jaebeom met your eyes and this time, you didn’t back down. “You know what I meant,” he huffed.

“So, I’m a mind reader now? Good to know,” you retorted, acerbic.

Jaebeom turned to you, leaning in and whispering, “Tonight. After curfew. Sneak out with me.”

You shook your head, mouth full of food. Swallowing, you told him coolly, “I have a regularly scheduled dick appointment with Jackson.”

“Cancel it,” Jaebeom said, appearing unaffected though it made him want to destroy Jackson a thousand times over. “I’ll have some wine. We can go to the lookout. You know, like old times.”

You scowled at him and yet, you wanted nothing more than to go back to those old times. Before you were stupid. Before you fell in love with him.

“Give me one good reason,” you hissed, taking a sip of your orange juice.

Jaebeom shifted, like the words pained him. More from pride than anything else. “I just want to talk to you. I miss you. As a friend.”

You didn’t say anything, but you shuffled your attention between him and Jackson. The latter was making Yeona laugh heartily and you felt a twinge of jealousy. Not from a place of malice, but a protectiveness over your best friend.

Jackson would tell you not to. He would tell Jaebeom to take a fucking hike.

Angling back to Jaebeom, you warned, “If you so much as grab my boob, I will kick you in the balls and leave you there.”

Jaebeom smiled, but quickly fought it. “That’s fair.”

“What time?”

“Eleven.”

You nodded. “Okay, I’ll meet you at the spot.”

Jaebeom rose and you were sad to see him go, but he added, “Nah, I will come to your cabin and get you. I don’t want you walking at night alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

Jackson stitched his brows, having listened to you recount the exchange to him back at his cabin.

“Of course, chivalry is dead,” your best friend exclaimed incredulously. “He killed it.”

“Jacks, please,” you whined. “He just wants to talk.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Jackson countered firmly and he looked a heartbeat away from combusting. “He hates that you’re sleeping with me. It’s jealousy. Plain and simple.”

You propped your hands on your hips, frustrated from arguing with him. “Wasn’t that the plan? To make him come after me again?”

Jackson remembered what had started all of this in the first place and he changed his tune. “Right, yeah, but this is just going the same route as last summer. You see that, right?”

“No, it’s not. I’m wiser now.”

Jackson approached briskly, taking you in his arms and roaming his hands around your waist. “You could just stay here with me,” he coaxed, voice a low growl. “I can eat that pussy like it’s my last meal.”

You snorted a laugh, but slipped out of his arms. “Nice try, but you were right. I’m more than just sex and I need to see where his head is at.”

Jackson sighed in defeat.

“Don’t wait up for me tonight,” you called back to him as you slipped through the door.

Jackson watched you go and stood rooted in place. Fuck, he was conflicted. Every instinct he had told him to stop you, but how could he? What right did he have to you in the first place?

He was just the guy you fucked to get back at another guy.

Jackson exhaled loudly through his nose. He could feel himself slipping, losing his nerve. Even when he sat with Yeona, making her smile and laugh, and noticing she leaned into his touches, his eyes still wandered to you. And when Jaebeom had appeared by your side, Jackson could feel his heart sinking into the bottom of his stomach.

Jackson reminded himself of the deal. He would get Yeona and you would get Jaebeom. That was it. Those were the terms you both agreed on and thus far, everything was going quite smoothly.

But Jackson was thinking of you and now he was thinking of Jaebeom touching you. And it made him want to die.

The day passed by at a glacial pace. By the time night fell, you began the long, arduous process of doing your hair and makeup. When there was a knock at the door, you had to stop yourself from sprinting across the room to answer.

Instead, you made his ass wait.

“Hey,” you greeted, stepping through and shutting the door behind you a moment later.

“Hey,” Jaebeom replied, scanning you over. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, noting the backpack slung over his shoulder. “What you got back there?”

“None of your business,” he teased. “Ready to go?”

You pursed your lips, watching Jaebeom turn and stride away, expecting you to follow. Which, of course, you did.

The lookout was a small patch of open field between the trees. It was the perfect spot for stargazing and late night makeout sessions. You and Jaebeom had spent many hours in this place. As did you and Jackson.

It was a place of clarity and self-reflection. Something about seeing the stars so clearly, away from the noise and smog of the city, made you feel a sense of belonging. That everything would be okay. Sooner or later.

Jaebeom dropped his backpack and began rifling through it. Reading your mind, he called, “Don’t sit yet.”

You were about to complain, but then he stood and fanned out a red flannel blanket, smoothing out the corners over the grass.

“Now, you can sit.”

You almost chuckled, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Plopping down, you overlapped your ankles and watched him take the spot beside you.

“Wow, this is actually romantic,” you smarted, monotonous.

Jaebeom popped open the bottle of wine and took a swig. “I’m full of surprises,” he quipped, handing you the bottle.

A bit perturbed he had neglected to bring separate glasses, you took a sip and countered bitterly, “Not really. I remember all the romantic gestures and sweet words of last summer.”

Jaebeom sighed. So did he.

He had taken something so precious and innocent and filled it with poison. Jaebeom could have walked away at any point. And even worse, when all was said and done, he could have stayed.

There was a lull of silence and you didn’t mind. Jaebeom studied the stars, feigning interest. You turned your head, looking at his profile alight with the glow of the moon.

“Jaebeom, why did you bring me here?”

Jaebeom swallowed and whispered, “I hate myself for what I did to you.”

You frowned. “And what about all the other girls?”

Jaebeom shook his head, remorseful only for you. “They weren’t naive. They weren’t inexperienced,” he explained, somber. “They weren’t my friends. They weren’t you.”

You narrowed your eyes. The anger was pooling in your belly again. And your next question was scathing, “So, what sets me apart is that you hurt me the most?”

“Yes,” Jaebeom said, feeling small. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

You cried, “Why me?”

“You were the holy grail. Every guy wanted you.”

Biting back tears, you whimpered, “You talk about me like I’m not a person.”

Jaebeom realized that and he looked away, mulling over if he could put his feelings into words for once. “Would you believe me if I said that looking back I meant the things I said to you - that I loved every moment we spent together last summer?”

You thought about it for a moment and then you answered, “No. It’s what I’ve wanted you to say and yet. . . I don’t believe you. Everything you said and did was the means to an end.”

Jaebeom didn’t deny it. “I thought so, too. But when I got home, you were all I could think about. I wanted to see you and hold you. I missed having you in my life.”

The tears were flowing freely now and you turned your head away.

Jaebeom came closer, cupping your cheek and wiping the tears with his thumb.

You sobbed, “Why did you do this?”

“Shh, baby,” he whispered under his breath.

“You hate yourself for hurting me. I hate myself for loving you.”

Jaebeom felt like a gaping open wound, one that refused to heal. And yet your pain surpassed his own. He would rather writhe in misery than see you crying in his arms. Knowing that he had driven you this far.

“You were right,” he choked out. “I wanted you to know hurt the way I did. I envied you. You never let anyone get to you. I thought in some twisted way I wouldn’t be alone and I could finally move past what happened to me.”

You could feel yourself falling for it again and you lowered your head.

“I’m sorry,” Jaebeom finally said.

Those words you had wanted for so long and they did nothing for you. They didn’t fix you. They didn’t numb the pain. They didn’t restore what had been taken.

You pushed his arms away and got to your feet, wiping the tears with the back of your hand. Stomping toward the gravel path, Jaebeom was hot on your heels, calling your name.

When he grabbed your arms and spun you back around to face him, you yelled, “Let me go, Jaebeom.”

“Tell me what to do,” he pleaded. “Tell me what you need me to do!”

“Break this fucking spell,” you shouted back at him. “Make me hate you. Because I love you and it’s killing me!”

That was the last thing Jaebeom wanted. He was consumed by you. There were those words again and Jaebeom couldn’t stand it. No one had ever loved him, much less fallen in love with him, and he didn’t know what to do.

So, he gathered you in his arms and melded his lips to yours. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back hard, carding your fingers into his hair.

Jaebeom held your waist and hips snugly, trapping you to him. You pressed yourself to his chest and tugged on his hair, earning a groan. You slipped your tongue past his lips and Jaebeom made a noise at your aggression. He could taste the salt of your tears.

This was stupid, you thought to yourself. You just never learned, did you? But God, kissing him was amazing. You let your hands fall from his head to roam his shoulders, pressing your nails into his shirt. You felt so small in his arms, like you were lost in him.

Jaebeom began to move, steering you with him back toward the blanket, still kissing you like his life depended on it. You weren’t surprised when he lay you down, but Jaebeom was beyond surprised when you wrestled him to his back and straddled his hips.

You wanted to grin at the shocked expression he was sporting, but you only caught a brief glimpse of his widened eyes before smashing your lips back on his.

You just wanted to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until you were satisfied, satiated. Maybe then you could finally get on with your life. It was senseless logic, but all you knew was he kissed so fucking good. It made you crazy. Just like everything else about him.

For fuck’s sake, you would never understand why you were in love with the one thing determined to destroy you.

“Stop. Stop,” you suddenly told him, panting and breathless.

Jaebeom looked at your hand pressed to his chest, watching you sit up on top of him, and his heart sank. He knew that look. You were about to bolt.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, more to yourself as you brushed your hair out of your face with your fingers.

Jaebeom stroked his palms up your thighs, clad in the tightest jeans he had ever seen, and coaxed, “Why?”

You blinked, thinking of an answer. There were many, but you were trying to invalidate them on the spot.

Jaebeom sat up, wrapping an arm around your hips and rocking you closer to him. “Tell me,” he mumbled, pressing a wet kiss to your neck.

Your eyes fluttered and you felt resolve melting away each time his lips touched over your racing pulse.

“You’ll leave me again,” you cried shakily.

Jaebeom shook his head, proceeding to suck beneath your ear. “I’m not going anywhere,” he growled.

You ran your hands through his hair, hips arching ever so slightly in search of friction. Your body was heating up, excitement pulsing through your veins. You craved him. Lust was a powerful thing, and now you truly understood.

“I am,” you said firmly, pushing him back with both hands and rising to your feet.

Jaebeom slumped back, disappointed and defeated, and shook his hair out of his eyes. Watching you walk away, he begged, “Please stop sleeping with Jackson.”

You turned to face him, lips parting incredulously.

Seeing your anger, he lowered his tone to something more pliant, but definitely snide. “Give me a chance to make things right before you let him get his claws in you.”

It only confirmed what Jackson had said. Jaebeom’s newfound pursuit of you was solely from a place of jealousy. Your best friend had been right and you were too blind to accept it.

“You really are the worst,” you snapped at him, heading back on your way.

Jaebeom shouted vengefully, “He doesn’t fucking deserve you!”

You kept walking and retorted with disdain, “Story of my life, it seems. I guess I only fuck guys that don’t deserve me.”

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Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Crown For Two {3}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, Slow Burn, Tease, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 7.2k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride continues. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a reminder, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Slightly Interactive***

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | 

Chapter Three

-Y/N-

When you opened your eyes again, your head felt a lot different. It wasn’t spinning. It didn’t feel congested, heavy, or muddled. You saw everything with clear eyes, alert eyes. Glancing around the room, you took in your surroundings like it was your first time, though you were sure it wasn’t. Closing your eyes, you tried to remember everything that had happened. You remembered walking through the streets, taking pictures, and even watching the locals go about their business. You also remembered going into a bar and drinking that god awful drink.

 When you remembered seeing Henry’s face, you couldn’t help but smile. Your conversation played over and over in your head and how easy it was to talk to one another. Even his smile and goofy laugh had you snuggling deeper into the plush bedding. He was definitely attractive. All of a sudden, the accident flashed into mind. You’d been struggling with the wind and the snow and couldn’t see not even two inches in front of you. The pain of being hit was absent. It was like it happened so fast that you were out cold before your pain receptors could adequately translate it.

 You bolted up as the words “prince” and “your highness” echoed in your head.

 “Shit, he’s a prince.”

You rubbed your forehead, then pinched the bridge of your nose. Of course he is, you thought. Why would you meet some normal person in this clear fairytale country? Leaning against the headboard, you chewed your bottom lip, beginning to wonder about several other things. One of them was your exchange in the bar. He clearly knew who he was. You were not naïve when it came to the attention of men. There was evident flirting going on.

 “Was he trying to charm me into being some royal conquest?”

 Before you could think on the topic any further, there was a knock at the door. You sat up straighter while trying to figure out the right way to sit. You lied back casually but decided that was too casual. You then straightened your back and took note of how your breasts were accentuated thanks to the proper posture.

 “Too much,” you whispered, slouching again.

 The knock came again.

 “Ma’am?”

 Shaking your head, you sighed and said, forget it. You had no idea how to answer, so you said the first thing to come to mind.

 “You may enter.” You didn’t know why you decided to add an uppity British accent. Slapping your hand to your head, you shook it, already tired of your own shenanigans.

When you looked, it was the doctor you’d seen the night before.

 “Good morning, ma’am.”

 You gave him a polite smile as he approached with his black doctor’s bag.

 “How are you feeling today. Better, I hope.”

 “Much, thank you.”

 He nodded, then placed his bag on the bedside table.

 “How did you sleep? Any pain?”

 “No—well, not severe pain. I’m just mainly sore.”

 Dr. Alfonsi. nodded. “You can take aspirin for those aches. They should subside in another few days, as will the bruises.”

 You nodded again.

 “May I begin my examination?”

 Giving him a demure smile as permission, he approached and began doing all the things a doctor would at the beginning of any appointment. He took your blood pressure, checked your reflexes and your temperature. He examined your eyes, listened to your heart, followed along with your pulse and respiration, all the while taking diligent notes on his phone that he held in the breast pocket of his white coat.

 Ten or so minutes later, he closed his bag and then brought over one of the chairs in the room. Once he sat, he softly clapped his hands together.

 “And that is that. I am pleased your vitals are appearing better and better. Are you feeling the return of your strength?”

 “Not really,” you confessed.

 “As I explained yesterday, I had concerns from the results of a few blood tests I did. Did you know that you have several vitamin deficiencies?”

 Your eyebrows quirked. “Uh—n—no. I didn’t. What do you mean?”

 “Well, in an effort to provide a most comprehensive recovery plan for you, as I do with every patient I see in the royal family and elsewhere. I ran a full panel of tests and came back with several alarming finds. You have a deficiency of vitamin B12, Vitamins D, and E, you’re severely low in Iron and Folate. Have you ever been diagnosed with Anemia?”

 Your head swarmed with all the words and letters he’d just flung at you.

 “Uh—no. I don’t think so.”

 “I am diagnosing it now.”

 You watched his mouth move as he explained the dangers of the deficiencies and listed the symptoms one would expect, which all coincided with what you’d felt on and off for some time. The explanation seemed to go on and on. With every word Dr. Alfonsi. spoke, your breathing sped more and more. He must have seen the terror on your face because he reached out and took your hand.

 “It’s all right, dear. Though it is not as soon as I would have liked, we caught it. we now know that there is a serious problem.”

 “I—I didn’t know. I mean, I guess I’ve been busy these last few months and on the go, but—I never--,” you trailed off.

 “Calm down. It’s easy to fall behind on our health, but it is important we catch up. In order to do that, you’re going to have to make some changes.”

 “What kind of changes?”

 “Lifestyle and occupational. You’re going to need to change your diet, incorporate the therapies and medicines I will be prescribing, as well as taking it significantly easier than I suspect you have in the past,” Dr. Alfonsi explained.

 “Taking it easy? What exactly does that mean?”

 “Well, I mild cases I’ve seen in my years, I’ve recommended a month of strict relaxation along with what I’ve said before. That meant decreased hours at work, perhaps a sabbatical, bed rest until the patient begins to regain strength to prevent chances of falling and bone breakage.”

 “Bed rest?”

 “Yes, and that’s just for mild cases. Your case, I’m afraid, is a lot more serious. While I recommended it for others, for you, I would have to insist.”

 You sat up, giving him a look that said he was crazy.

 “I can’t go on bed rest. That’s not just decreased hours; that is complete incapacitation,” you protested.

 “I can understand your alarm, but that is how serious your situation is, ma’am.”

 “God, please stop calling me ma’am. My name is Xari.”

 “Ms. Xari,” he corrected.

 Several moments passed in silence. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, you hadn’t gone to the doctor in almost two years and didn’t take multivitamins and oftentimes forgot to eat, but you worked out, ate your greens—sometimes, and experienced plenty of holistic activities throughout the world. You had no idea you were in this bad shape.

 “Do you understand what I am saying, Ms. Xari? If you do not make drastic changes for the foreseeable future, you may not see the blooming of spring flowers.”

 Your jaw dropped. He was laying on pretty thick, but it was working. You were alarmed. Sighing, you rubbed your forehead.

 “What exactly do you suggest then?”

 “What you’re doing now, bed rest. I will communicate with the staff your dietary needs for the coming weeks as well as instructions for your medication--.”

 “Wait, hold up. What? You don’t mean for me to stay here, do you?”

 Dr. Alfonsi looked at you as if you were missing a few screws.

 “Yes.”

You flung your hands out. “Nope. Absolutely not. I can’t stay here.”

 “Why not? I am more than sure the prince would allow you to remain here until you are fully recovered, especially seeing it was his highness’ royal car that hit you for us to discover your ailments.”

 “No. I can’t stay here. I don’t—I’m a stranger to these people. I am—there’s no way. I can’t ask him or anyone here to wait on me.”

 Dr. Alfonsi smiled. “I understand your apprehension, believe me, I do, but it is unnecessary. I have known the prince since he was a child. He is a kind man and would never dare turn someone who is in need and sick away. You will be safe here.”

 Hearing how highly he spoke of his prince piqued your curiosity. It could have been one of those things where one’s subjects loved them so dearly they had not one bad word to say about them, or one’s subjects fears them so much that they didn’t dare utter one negative thing about them. You wondered which was the real story. Perhaps a little in the middle, you thought.

 Sighing, you leaned your head on the headboard, still adamant you didn’t want to stay here.

 “I have a life to get back to. I’ve already been here for two days too long.”

 “Two days?”

 The question in his voice had your head snapping to him. You cautiously opened your mouth to speak. “Yes,” you squeaked.

 “No. I’m afraid it’s been more than two days. It’s been a week since you’ve been here, Ms. Xari.”

 Your eyes bugged, and you instantly began searching for your phone.

 “What are you looking for?”

 “My things. Where are my things? My phone?”

 Dr. Alfonsi looked around the room then walked to a large wardrobe before he came back with your purse. You unintentionally snatched it from him, digging through it for the desired object. Once you had it, you discovered it was dead.

 “Fuck.”

 You began trying to get off the bed, but as soon as you stood, you dropped back to the bed, your legs unable to hold you.

 “I would caution against doing too much too soon. I’m impressed you were able to attempt an escape once. I doubt you’d be successful a second time.”

 “I need my charger. Where are my things? I’ve been off the grid for a week. I have family, people who will worry. I need—need--.”

 Your chest pounded so fast you could barely catch your breath. As you struggled to get a full breath, you began to panic. Dr. Alfonsi was to you on the other side of the bed in seconds, checking your pulse and instructing you to breathe slowly and deeply. You would if you could and wished you could shout that to him. Before you knew it, darkness was all you saw.

 ~~~~~~~~

When you opened your eyes, you were again tucked in the bed, but you were now hooked up to an IV. You took a deep breath and noted the heaviness that resided in your chest. Groaning, you slowly sat up. Once rested against the headboard, you remembered your mission. Your phone. Kicking off the covers, you used the rolling IV rod as if it were a cane and stood on wobbly legs. After a full minute, you began moving though every step you took felt like you’d fall to the floor.

 What should have taken you seconds took minutes. The steps proved to be more challenging to maneuver with the IV stand. You searched the room, but you didn’t see your luggage. That was when you saw your phone plugged into a charger on the nightstand to the left of the bed. You wobbled toward it then quickly unlocked it. Feeling yourself shake even more, you used the wall as your brace as you scrolled through. You saw the bounty of missed calls, unanswered messages, and emails of alarm. As expected, everyone was worried to death about you.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 You found your sister’s number and dialed it. It didn’t ring; instead, it went to voicemail. Your frustration was evident as you knocked over the small glass figurine on the bedside table. You ignored the shattered pieces and grabbed the IV pole, ready to walk out of the room in search of your things. Once you opened the door, your jaw dropped, seeing another luxurious room similar to the bedroom but decked in different colors.

 You took one then two steps, and your knees gave out. Before you tumbled to the floor, you heard a shriek and your name being shouted; then you were in someone’s arms. You looked up into blue eyes that were framed by long lashes and thick eyebrows.

 “Are you all right?”

 You snorted. “We have got to stop meeting like this,” you teased with a soft smile. It was a smile Henry returned.

“I cannot make any promises.”

 Henry then lifted you into his strong arms and carried you where you’d just come from. As he held you, you couldn’t help but glance over the side of his face that was perfectly in view. If you thought his jaw was chiseled to perfection before, now—you were certain there was not even one flaw about it. When he placed you back in the bed, he hovered over you for a few seconds. They were seconds that felt like minutes, especially with the intensity you saw in his eyes.

 “Xari.”

 Tearing your eyes from his, you glanced to your left to see Anika, your sister.

 “Nika!”

 She leaped onto the bed and scurried across to you, then threw her arms around you.

 “Oh my god. What’re you doing here!? How’d you get here?”

 “I’ve been so worried! I’m so glad you’re okay.”

 Relief filled you, and you found yourself relaxing a little more.

 “I don’t get it. How are you?”

 Anika pulled back with a wide smile on her face. She looked up, bringing your eyes to the man who still stood beside the bed. His arms were crossed across his chest, and a soft smile decorated his lips.

 “Him. He’s how I’m here.”

 You were still confused, and you knew your expression showed it.

 “I couldn’t reach you. I called and called and no answer. A few days ago, I got a call back, and it was the prince,” Anika began giving you a wide-eyed look when she said, “prince.”

 “Henry, please, I insist.”

 Anika smiled and actually giggled before she continued. “Henry. He explained everything and kept me in the loop with your condition. Because of that damn storm, I couldn’t get here. He ended up sending the royal jet for me once the storm passed enough to bring me here, so you’d have someone with you.”

 Wow, you thought, letting all she’d said register. He’d done a lot. You slipped your eyes to him and found them on you.

 “He’s been very kind, Ri,” Anika added.

 You were speechless. What were you supposed to say? Clearing your throat, you said the first thing you thought of.

 “Thank you.”

 Henry nodded and held your gaze. “It was done for you alone and with you in mind.”

 Well, shit, you thought, unable to take your eyes off of his. After a few moments, you heard Anika clear her throat, and it was Henry who looked away first.

 “Right. I was bringing your sister here for you to see. Now that you have her, I will give the staff instructions to see whatever the two of you will need for your stay.”

 “Uh—about that. It won’t be necessary,” you piped up.

 “Excuse me?”

 His intimidating aura increased, making you feel like a disobedient little whose daddy was about to punish her. At that comparison, you had a quick thought about whether or not he was a vanilla prince or one with plenty of shades of grey. Straightening your back, you held your head higher.

 “While I appreciate all you’ve done for me thus far, it won’t be necessary for you or your staff to fuss over my sister or me any longer. We’ll be leaving.”

 Henry cocked his head to the right, then tightly clenched his jaw.

 “Is that right?”

 “Why are we leaving?”

 Ignoring Anika’s question, you decided not to look away from Henry feeling a challenge in how he looked at you.

 “According to Dr. Alfonsi, you’re in no shape to be going anywhere.” He nodded to your IV pole for emphasis.

 “I will stay at the inn that is in town or a hotel.”

 “Nonsense. It was my fault you were hurt, and my responsibility to rectify the damage and harm I have caused.”

 “He’s right, Xari. It’s his fault, and you should let him accrue the expenses,” Anika voiced.

 “Nika!”

 “What! He’s a prince, Ri. He got it,” she replied a little under her breath but still loud enough for him to hear.

 “I must agree with Lady Anika.”

 Anika snorted and laughed. “I’m definitely not a lady.”

 Henry smirked at her then quickly looked back to you. “I must insist you remain here. At least until Dr. Alfonsi has given you the seal of good health. I am afraid if you were to go anywhere, something would happen to you, and I would not be able to forgive myself.”

 You studied him for a few moments, taking in the expression on his face as well as the tight clench of his jaws. Your eyes moved down to his still folded arms and the muscles that bulged because of his stance. He was definitely overwhelming like this, and though you hated to feel like a bother, you suspected that here was the best place for now. Glancing to Anika, she gave you a stern eye that said, “just give in already.”

 Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Fine, but only until I’m well enough.”

 “If that is your wish, just know you are welcomed here for however long you wish.”

 “My goodness, such a gentleman. They sure breed them differently here, huh sis.”

 Henry smiled, then glanced at Anika. “Everything is different here in Brexendor.”

 “I bet,” Anika finished.

 “Since it is settled, I will proceed to advise the staff. Dr. Alfonsi has already given several strict dietary orders as well as health orders. If there is anything you require do not hesitate to speak it. Lady Anika, I have already instructed a bedroom be prepared for you, but I will instruct it be as close to your sister as possible.”

 “Thank you.”

 He nodded, then looked back at you. “I sincerely hope you feel better soon.”

 “Are you leaving?”

 “Unfortunately, yes. I am afraid I have quite a lot to do today. By all means, though, feel free to go where you please. My home is yours, ladies.”

 With that, he curtly bowed his head then walked toward the door. Before he walked out, he stopped.

 “Oh, Xari, try not to escape again. I cannot guarantee I will always be there to catch you.”

 You saw the hint of a smile on his lips and instantly knew he was teasing you.

 “Somehow, your highness, I suspect you will magically appear at the mere hint of a faint.”

 He chuckled to himself then walked out, closing the doors behind him. Once alone, Anika wasted no time.

 “Holy fucking shit, he is hot as fuck!”

 You snorted and laughed as you relaxed into the bed.

 “Wonderful censor you have there, Nika.”

 “Fuck censor.”

 “Well, that last time I said fuck here, I was looked at like I was the most uncouth Neanderthal. I suggest you keep your fucks to a minimum.”

 Anika bounced you. “Will you be able to keep your fucks to a minimum?”

 “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 Anika rolled her eyes. “Whatever! The air hasn’t even gotten a chance to come back down from the sweltering levels your guys’ flirting raised it to.”

 Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me! There was no flirting.”

 “Yes, there was, and it was not on your side alone. He was flirting with you too. What in the world is going on? I need the whole story without even the smallest detail left out.”

 You sighed then proceeded to tell her the whole sordid tale. As instructed, you didn’t leave anything out. You even told her about that exchange between you and Henry before you walked out of the bar. At the end of story time, Anika had a huge grin on her face.

 “What are you grinning at?”

 “You. Leave it to you to get whisked away by a prince and have him fall; for you in record time.”

 “No, no, no. Falling? Nika, you’re imagining things. He hasn’t fallen for anyone. He’s a prince, for crying out loud. They don’t fall for anyone, let alone some commoner. Have you never watched The Crown?”

 Anika snorted and dropped to the bed at your feet.

 “First of all, The Crown is whack. Second of all, this is not England. This place is fantastic. It’s like some Hallmark country where everything is beautiful, quaint, and perfect. You smiled and bit your bottom lip, agreeing fully.

 “Third, I was sitting right here, listening to your banter. I think he could totally fall for you if he hasn’t already.”

 You rolled your eyes, ignoring everything she was saying. Anika loved to play matchmaker, though you hated every time she did it.

 “You’re practically in his bed. We just have to get you there.”

 You rolled your eyes again, shocked at how quickly she’d gotten there. “Okay, down, girl. According to this doctor, I’m falling apart, Nika. Any bed I’ll be in for a while is this one.”

 “Well, now you have me here to encourage you to lap up the luxury and hospitality of his highness the prince of Brexendor. Get the fuck outta here!”

 The two of you laughed loudly. This situation you’d found yourself into was the most ridiculous one either of you could have ever begun to imagine.

 A few hours later, you found yourself alone while Anika settled in her room. Another knock sounded at your door. Being unable to open it yourself, you instructed them to come in. Once the doors opened in walked a beautiful girl about your age with long black hair and features similar to Henry’s. In your head, you suspected she was a family member. She smiled sweetly as she approached you. When she was by your bedside, she dropped onto the mattress.

 “Hi.”

 You returned her warm smile. “Hi.”

 “My god, you are beautiful.”

 You snorted, then pinched your lips together, trying to suppress your laugh. She was insane. You looked the worst you’d ever looked.

 “You’re being kind. I haven’t showered in a week and only today got to comb my hair. You’re being very, very kind.”

 She giggled but still looked genuine.

 “I’m Jemma,” she said, holding her hand out to you. Once you took it, and instantly noted how soft they were.

 “It’s nice to meet you.”

 “I have been trying to get here to introduce myself, but Henry told me to stay away so you could acclimate. Otherwise, I would have been here much sooner.”

 You smiled and assured her it was fine.

 “How are you doing?”

 You shrugged. “I guess I’m okay.”

 She didn’t look convinced and took you in for a few moments. “I’m sure my brother has brought all the best doctors for your care and has thought of everything that would ensure your comfort. With that treatment, I expect you to make a full recovery in no time.”

 “Brother.”

 “Yes. Please tell me you did not think I was his girlfriend or something of the sort.”

 She looked disgusted, which made you laugh.

 “No. I suspected a family member. So you’re a princess.”

 Jemma rolled her eyes as she sighed out as if she was already tired of the conversation.

 “Yes, but I promise it is not nearly as glamourous as you’re thinking. The only nice thing about it is the diamonds, everything else, eh.”

 You smiled, already liking her. she gave off an air that said she didn’t take herself seriously and even liked to have a bit of fun more times than not.

 “The staff is all abuzz with news that you will be residing with us for the next few weeks. Henry has told them to cater to your every whim, and because it came from him, everyone is in a tizzy over it, prepping to ensure you are at your most comfortable,” Jemma explained.

 “What. No, that’s not what I want at all. They don’t have to go all out.”

 “It’s okay.”

 “No. then everyone will think I’m some prissy thing who likes to be waited on when that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

 Jemma took you for a little while, then took your hand and squeezed it gently.

 “Not to worry, Xari. I assure you no one will think that.”

 You sighed then tried to forget it because it was too late to change whether or not they thought it. You were sure everyone was already whispering about you and Anika, the two Americans who’d somehow found their way into the palace.

 “Also, we are not as gossip centered as other monarchies. I promise,” Jemma added, raising her hand as if to swear it.

 When she sensed you relaxed, she proceeded to ask a plethora of questions about you, ranging from where you were from to what you did and the all-important if you were single. You felt like you were on a modern-day “Who Wants to be Friends With a Princess” tv show. With every fact, you revealed she revealed a similar one and so on. After an hour, you found that you had plenty in common, something that was shocking for you.

 When Anika came back, the party really stated. Your laughter picked up, as did the stories that Jemma revealed about royal life. Those stories prompted Anika to tell stories of life as a commoner in America as she called it. The only thing was her stories we mainly all about partying, dating, and men. With each story, Jemma’s eyes widened, and you felt like slowly Anika would end up corrupting her.

 “Nika, stop. You’re going to have her on an episode of Princesses Gone Wild,” you joked, which had both of them in stitches on your bed.

 “I will have you know that I am not some innocent wallflower. I know things,” Jemma countered.

 You couldn’t help but laugh loudly. Just the way she said that told you she didn’t know very many things. That was when Jemma proceeded to list the names of the men she’d dated, a list of three men. Anika was the one to ask the nature of these relationships, to which Jemma said she knew in great detail the kind of underwear each man wore. You lost it right then and there, dropping onto the bed in a fit of laughter.

 Exhaustion caught you off guard, dampening the mood of the night. Jemma assured you that she’d keep Anika company and show her around to give you time to take a nap. After thanking her, the two women walked out of your room, leaving you to silence. Once the door closed, it opened again. this time it was the woman named Audrina.

 “Good evening, ma’am. Is there anything I can bring you?”

 “No. I’m all right.”

 She nodded, then closed the door leaving you again. You quickly drifted off to sleep.

  ~~~~~

 -Henry-

He’d never met anyone quite as beautiful as you. he remembered when you’d walked into the bar and sat down beside him like you were right where you were supposed to be. You had no idea that the bar was empty because it was closed for him to be there, had no idea that he was not some ordinary citizen. He liked being a no one, especially if it meant he could sit there with you all night. He remembered wanting just that. If his phone hadn’t run, if he’d had more time, he probably would have tried to hold your hand. If he’d had more time, he would have gotten himself into an even bigger predicament than he was now—attracted to a woman he knew better than to touch.

 Slowly he looked over the features of your face and took in each detail. He pressed the elements of your face to his memory so he could call on them when he was alone, buried in work. A sigh escaped him as a lite feeling filled him. It was an unfamiliar one. He wanted to touch you. It was an urge that was so strong he almost couldn’t overpower it—almost. He balled his fist and sat back in the settee beside your bed, trying to ignore the feelings that washed over him.

 “Remember yourself,” he whispered before he looked back to the work he’d brought with him when he’d decided to pay you a quick visit.

 This quick visit was an hour ago. When he found you asleep, he should have turned around and left, but he couldn’t. He intended to sit here for a few minutes, ten tops, but he still had yet to tear himself away. He mustered what was left of his control and focused on the screen before him and tried to write his speech for the new world bank’s upcoming opening.

 This was one of his father’s pet projects, and he was filled with pride to see it to fruition, but also it made him miss the man more. Sighing, he closed his eyes and began rubbing his temples. Every time he thought of his father in the last few months, it brought him added stress. It was this stress that prevented him from sleeping longer than four hours a night.

 “Christ,” he whispered.

 “Are you all right?”

 Jerking his head up, he saw you awake with your head still atop the pillow. You looked like a dream, or perhaps his best nightmare.

 “I am sorry. Was I too loud?”

 “No. I um—just happened to open my eyes.”

 You slowly sat up, allowing the blanket to fall from your chest to your lap. As you adjusted yourself, he moved his laptop to the other side of the settee.

 “You didn’t answer me, though. Are you all right?”

 A smile tugged at his lips, but he fought it. “Me? Should it not be me be asking you that?”

 “Can’t we ask each other?”

 He studied you for a few moments, then nodded. “I am fine.”

 “Liar.”

 His jaw dropped, half shocked you would go there. There weren’t many people in his life that would dare.

 “I take it no one calls his highness a liar,” you teased.

 “You take it right. Maybe Jemma or my mother on occasion and a few of my friends but not many.”

 You smiled, then shrugged. “I call em’ like I see em.’”

 He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Pray tell, what gave me away to make you insult me so?”

 Your smile widened before you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, bringing his eyes right there. He adjusted in the seat he sat and waited for you to continue.

 “Your eyes are red, under your eyes puffy, and one doesn’t just say Christ to say Christ.”

 You had him there. He pushed his fist under his chin and continued to watch you.

 “So you are implying I look bad.”

 You smirked then, and he picked up the change in the air.

 “I mean, I’m sure I look the same as you. So take comfort in that.”

 A chuckle escaped him. “So that is a yes; I do look bad.”

 You looked at him but didn’t answer.

 “I will take that as a yes on my part. however, regarding you, you look far from bad.”

 You snorted then laughed, and it was the most shockingly endearing sound. It wasn’t a laugh he would hear from others in his company. Their laughs would be all dignified, but yours was genuine. It was also downright terrifying, but he preferred it.

 “Now I know you’re a liar. I look absolutely disgusting. I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this, but I haven't showered in a week.”

 He pinched his lips, hiding his smile. You looked so uncomfortable admitting that.

 “Oh my.” He placed his hand over his mouth as if the fact mortified him.

 You pinched your lips.

 “Please tell me you have at least brushed your teeth.”

 “Today was the first day in just as much time.”

 Again he put his hand over his mouth and widened his eyes for emphasis. “Appalling.”

 You snorted again, and the delightful laugh came back. This time the laugh looked to encompass your entire being, and you glowed. When your laughter subsided, you dabbed at your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. He held out his handkerchief to you. When you took it, you used it to replace your fingers.

 “Thank you.”

 When you finished, you inspected the fabric, then looked at him.

 “You must like your women disgusting to still be here.”

 He shrugged.

 “How are you feeling?”

 “After that nap, I’m feeling well.”

 That made him happy.

 “Are you feeling well enough for some dinner?”

 “Uh—I was told I’m to stay in bed.”

 “Yes, Dr. Alfonsi has informed me and the staff as well. That is why--,” he began before walking across the room to the door.

 Once he opened it, the staff rolled in three carts filled with platters, trays, and bowls of plenty. Once the carts were parked, he thanked the staff and let them see themselves out.

 “Dinner is served.”

 The look on your face said you didn’t know what to say, so he uncovered the treys finding the menu items he’d chosen for the meal.

 “I was not sure what you liked, so I had them bring all of it.”

 He took up a plate and brought it to you. It took a few moments for you to take it, but you did. That was when he went back for his to sit back on the settee.

 “Also, do not feel as if you have to eat ladylike for me,” he began.

 You took up your fork and shoved an overflowing fork full of mashed potatoes into your mouth, letting a small glob rest at the side of your mouth.

 “What was that, your highness?”

 That was all it took for his attraction to turn to yearning.

 The two of you ate in silence for the most part. He asked you questions to get to know you better, and every new piece of information he found out only made him like you more and more. When you spoke about your career, he heard the passion in your voice, and it spoke to something in him. It had been a long time since he’d been around anyone who was genuinely passionate about the things they enjoyed. It stirred something in him, something he wasn’t quite ready to uncover.

 “I am sorry that I did not tell you once we met who I was.”

 You paused with your fork in your mouth.

 “It’s okay. To be real, why would you reveal to a stranger your secret identity. That’s like Clark Kent walking around in his incognito glasses with an S on his chest. It defeats the purpose.”

 “Clark Kent. Superman.”

 “Yes, one of my favorite superheroes.”

 A soft smile spread across his face before he nodded.

 “What’s yours? Wonder Woman?”

 He scoffed, then shook his head as he stood and approached the carts, ready for dessert. It wasn’t the Strawberry Cheesecake he truly desired, but it would have to do. When he returned to his seat, he placed your plate in front of you and sat.

 “It’s Wonder Woman, huh, or maybe Poison Ivy, ooh, Catwoman.”

 He sat there patiently, letting you list them off. He couldn’t help but wonder why those were chosen.

 “Before I answer, can I ask why you chose them?”

 He saw the mischievous glint twinkle in your eye as your lips quirked up into a smirk.

 “Oh, this, I must hear.”

 “No reason. They’re just seen as the most desirable by fanboy standards,” you responded while rolling with your eyes.

 He suppressed a chuckle to put a piece of the cheesecake into his mouth.

 “So?”

 “None of those.”

 “Oh, please do enlighten me,” you quipped.

 Resting the fork on the side of the dish, he responded. “Nubia and Storm.”

 He sat there and thoroughly enjoyed watching the emotions wash over your face. Shock was the first, then disbelief, and finally awe. Now you sat there assessing him as if you thought he was pranking you. He was not. You opened your mouth to say something, and he stopped you before you did.

 “I suggest you do not repeat it. I assure you I am not.”

 Your eyes darkened right at the moment you sucked your bottom lip back into your mouth. Losing his train of thought and head for control, he put another piece of the cake into his mouth, licking the back of the fork. Your eyes lowered to his mouth and your teeth sunk into that delectable bottom lip. If he were a weaker man, he would have tossed the plate he held to the side and been on you in under five seconds, but he was not a weak man. As future King, weakness had no place in the monarchy.

 Weakness was not an option until he saw you put the fork in your mouth to mirror his actions, only your tongue swirled around the teeth of the fork in a way that made his pants instantly too tight. Christ, help him.

 He cleared his throat and changed his position on the couch to one that would hide your effect.

“Interesting. I didn’t expect those,” you stuttered.

 “What did—what did you expect?”

 You shrugged and toyed with the fork against your lips. “Something else, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”

 Your eyes met again, and the temptation he felt was somehow more than he’d ever felt. He wanted you. He’d wanted you since you cursed about how disgusting the drink was at the bar. The only thing was, this want had shifted.

 “I am happy it is pleasantly.”

 Again your eyes lingered, and he wanted nothing more than to give in to the heavy cloud of temptation that filled the room.

 “What’re you working on?”

 He cleared his throat again and straightened himself. “Uh—a speech. One of my father’s projects premiers in a few days, the first since his um—” he cleared his throat again. “Since his passing, and I am going to be the one to cut the ribbon on it.”

 “Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

 Keeping his eyes turned downward, he nodded. The sincerity in your voice touched him. “Thank you.”

 The silence between you stretched for a few seconds before you spoke again.

 “What’s wrong with it?”

 “The speech, um—I do not know. It just does not feel right.”

 “Want me to take a look?”

 “Do you have an aptness for speeches?”

 You placed your place to the side and adjusted your posture.

 “Not speeches in general. I do have a knack for words. I’ve spent the last few years writing about the places I’ve gone in such a way that makes people want to go there themselves. I might know a little something, something.”

 He smiled, put the plate beside him, and leaned forward to hand you his laptop. He watched as you read through the few paragraphs he’d already written and wondered what you thought of it. Every lift of your brow or nibble of your lip had him more and more curious as to the thoughts in your head. After a few minutes, you nodded.

 “This isn’t bad. You sound like you’re on a good roll.”

 “No critique?”

 “How about you leave me with it for a day or two, and I’ll have some notes. Or, you could give it to your royal speechwriter.”

 He chuckled. “What makes you think I have one of those?”

 You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Hello, this is a monarchy. I am sure the monarchy employs people to make sure their dear prince is always PC.”

 You were right.

 “I think I would rather leave it with you,” he replied, making you smile in the process.

 “Okay. I’ll knock your socks off then.”

 “You already have,” he said, standing to take your plate.

 He tried to arrange the empty plates, dishes, and classes on the carts in a way that wouldn’t have them falling once they were moved.

 “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

 He turned in time to see you wobbling toward him, clutching the IV pole with one hand and a plate with the other. He saw your knees buckle and wrapped you in his arms, taking you to the bed in the process. With you underneath him, he couldn't deny how right this felt. Your breathing was heavy, your eyes bright and chest heaving. The way you were looking at him made his next move the only possible one.

 He brought his lips toward yours but right before he claimed them, he hesitated. The tiny sliver of space between your lips made it easy to feel the literal electricity that sparked between you. He was so close, but so far, and he wanted to get closer. The fact that you didn’t look as if you objected to this made his blood bubble with desire even more than it had hours ago when he first walked in.

 “I apologize,” he whispered before he pulled away from you with whatever ounce of strength he had remaining. He stood before you then held his hands out to you.

 “Let me help you.”

 You placed your hands in his letting him hoist you up. He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you back to the side of the bed you’d been this entire time.  When he eased you down, he spread the blanket over you and assured you were comfortable. Being sure to keep his eyes away from yours, he turned to his things and gathered them.

 “I will let you get some rest. If Dr. Alfonsi found out I were here preventing that, he would give me a stern talk.”

 “Thank you for this,” you said.

 He took his laptop from your bed and nodded. “I will email it to you.”

 “You have my email?”

 “I am head of this country; I have multiple resources at my disposal,” he replied, smirking at you. Your smile said you fully understood his meaning and knew he was teasing. You understood him. Yet another thing to like about you, he thought. He quickly averted his eyes then gave you a slight head bow.

 “Good night, Xari.”

 “Good night, your highness.”

  He walked toward the door and poked his head out to instruct the waiting staff to remove the carts. The walk back to his room was filled with several stops as he thought to go back, but when he realized he couldn’t, he carried on his way. He’d never been filled with so many conflicting wants and thoughts before, and he suspected as the coming weeks stretched, this would be just the tip of the iceberg.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[hearts-hunger]

aay’han mar’eyce (bittersweet discovery): chapter three || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

chapter one || chapter two

Series Summary: In search of the Jedi you’ve been tasked to find, you and Din wrestle with the bittersweet discovery of your little one’s past and destined future. || Part Three of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: Ahsoka gives you a bittersweet gift.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst | Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical violence, pregnant reader

A/N: You got me, I’m a sucker for Din and his bride working through angst together, especially if that angst has a lot of fluff and hurt/comfort mixed in, especially if they get emotional about how much they love their baby. I hope you like it! ♡

You stumbled backwards, both arms wrapped protectively around your baby, eyes wide as you watched Din block swing after swing of the blazing white swords. Each parry sent sparks flying from his beskar; he met his attacker’s downward blow with his vambraces and held them there for a moment, the contact ringing as neither would give way. Din regained his footing and held the swords off with one arm while he activated his flamethrower, and the forest was awash in an angry red blaze. 

He threw his whipcord and bound his attacker, giving you your first real look at the Jedi you’d been tasked to find.

She’s beautiful, you thought foolishly, unable to process how quickly the fight had started. Her skin was the color of candlewick flowers, and the head-tails that draped over her shoulders were dusty blue and white. She looked slightly stunned by the whipcord that confined her, but only for a moment; she gave Din a smirk and leapt upwards. Your shocked gaze followed her as she drew the whipcord over a branch and hoisted Din up by his vambrace. He cut himself loose and drew his blaster as she drew her swords again.

“Ahsoka Tano!” he growled. She stilled at her name, studying him warily.

Din’s shoulders rose and fell with rapid breaths, and he held a half-defensive, half-placating hand out to her out to her even as he kept his blaster trained on her.

“Bo-Katan sent me,” he said, and you heard how he struggled to keep his voice calm. “We need to talk.”

They stayed frozen for a moment, each considering the other, perhaps gearing up for another round - then her gaze snagged on you, and the baby in your arms.

She turned off her swords and straightened, her posture relaxing.

“I hope it’s about him,” she said, surprise and genuine interest coloring her voice. Din turned, slowly holstering his blaster; you gave him a pleading look as your baby cooed at the two of them.

She took a few steps towards you, and you reacted in panic; whatever truce she and Din had come to, you didn’t know what her intentions were. Adrenaline and fear still coursed through your body, and you stepped back from her and held your baby closer.

She stopped when she saw your expression.

“Wait,” she said, her hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt either of you.”

You looked to Din. She’d just attacked you, out of nowhere, and you couldn’t believe he was so willing to trust her.

“Din,” you said, willing him to understand your hesitation, your fear. You saw from the set of his shoulders that he wasn’t completely at ease with her, but he also hadn’t tried to stop her from coming over to you. What if she tried to take your baby? Your hands shook, and you couldn’t get your heart to stop pounding.

He closed the distance between you, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “It’s alright, cyare.”

“Alright?” you snapped. “She tried to kill you.”

Ahsoka put her hands on her hips. “In my defense, I thought you were coming to kill me.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. It was probably best not to mention the Magistrate’s deal.

She nodded to your baby. “Are you... the little one’s mother?”

“Yes, I am,” you said, more confidently than you’d said anything else in this exchange. You met her gaze and held it, speaking to her not as a warrior, but as a woman and as a mother. 

“I made a vow to protect him,” you said. “And even though we both know I can’t fight you, I will gladly let myself be the last protection he has from you, if I need to.”

You made no mention of your husband, nor of his far superior skill in fighting her if the need arose. You also didn't tell her you were pregnant, which made the act of self-sacrifice a more complicated thing. None of it changed the point you were trying to get across to her: she must be very careful to earn your trust where your son was concerned.

She nodded, her expression serious and sincere. “I know you will,” she said, and there was nothing patronizing in her tone. “I promise you won’t have any reason to. Not from me.”

You saw nothing but honesty in her eyes. For the first time since she’d drawn her swords, you felt your tension and fear ease. You relaxed your hold on your baby, and he reached out to Ahsoka and babbled at her.

“Hello, little one,” she said, and the smile that eased her expression was kind and gentle. She looked over at Din.

“We should head to my camp,” she said. “We don’t want to be caught out here after dark.”

He nodded. “Lead the way.”

You and Din walked beside each other, following a few paces behind Ahsoka as she led you to her camp. His body language was a little reserved, and he kept an uncharacteristic distance between you as you walked.

“Are you angry with me?” he finally asked.

You looked up at him. “No,” you said truthfully. “I’m not angry with you. I’m... sorry if I was a little harsh, earlier. I was just scared.”

“Me too,” he said. He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to try and rush you. She and I came to an agreement when we stopped fighting, without having to talk about it. It’s a little hard to explain. You just sort of... know that you’re not enemies any more. But it was wrong of me to try and force that on you.”

He put his hand to the small of your back as the path steepened. Steadying you, lending you his strength - that came as easy as breathing to your husband, and you felt a sudden rush of gratitude and tenderness at the way he continually showed you his willingness to protect and care for you.

“Thank you,” you said.

He looked down at you. “For what?”

You shrugged. “Everything. Taking care of me. I love you.”

“Oh,” he said, and he affectionately nudged his shoulder against yours, a little bashful. “Well, you’re welcome. I love you too.”

You took his forearm in a gentle grip and raised it to examine his armor. “Did she hurt you?”

He shook his head. “No. Well - ” He rolled his left shoulder. “Dangling from the whipcord isn’t nearly as fun as it looks. But otherwise I’m fine.”

You moved your hand down to his, and he twined your fingers together.

“Your armor was sparking like crazy,” you said. You tried to shake the memory of him bracing his arms together against her death stroke. “Did you know it would hold up like that?”

He shrugged. “It’s sturdy stuff, this beskar. I haven’t met a thing yet that it couldn’t hold up against. I’ve never had to use it against laser swords, but it seemed to do the trick.”

You glanced at the sword hilts strapped to Ahsoka’s waist. “I’ve never seen weapons like those before,” you said. You wondered if she was the only person who used them, or if they were a traditional Jedi weapon. Though you had always known Din would likely teach your son how to fight, that had always been a long way off, and you wondered how young Jedi were when they started training in combat.

“Me either,” Din agreed. “They’re powerful, there’s no doubt about that. I’d be afraid to use one of them, let alone two.”

You smiled. “No you wouldn’t.” Whatever he said, you knew your husband was skilled enough to be effective with a weapon he’d never used before and could become proficient with it if he put his mind to it.

“You can’t fool me, Djarin,” you teased. “You want to try them out, don’t you?”

He chuckled. “Maybe. It would certainly be an interesting look, wouldn’t it? A Mandalorian with a laser sword?”

You gave a soft laugh. “I think you could pull it off.”

You kept a hold of him as darkness fell; the roots grew more tangled and the fallen logs more numerous as you went deeper into the mountains. For all the times Din had gotten snagged on something earlier, he was much steadier on his feet with the night vision in his HUD. You, on the other hand, felt like you were stumbling over something every other step.

“Dank farrik,” you bit out, grabbing Din’s arm to keep from falling flat on your face. No sooner had you steadied yourself than he swept you off your feet, scooping you up bridal-style and holding you close to his chest. 

“Din!” you squeaked, grabbing onto his shoulder for dear life. The baby giggled at the sudden swing upwards, and your husband gave a warm laugh.

“Relax, cyare,” he said. He gave Ahsoka a nod when she glanced back to see what the commotion was, and you thought you saw a smile on her face as she turned back.

Din kept pace behind her, seemingly no worse for wear with both his wife and baby in his arms. You relaxed and circled one arm around his neck while the other held your baby, who was absolutely delighted to be carried around by both his parents.

“You don’t have to carry me, Din,” you said, amused and affectionate. He was really quite the romantic under that tough exterior, and it had always been something you loved about him.

He hummed in agreement. “I know, but I figure it’s better than you twisting an ankle,” he teased. “And you’re probably tired, aren’t you?”

You nodded. It was very nice to be off of your feet for a moment; you’d been walking all day, and you knew Din must be just as weary of it as you were.

“My camp’s just ahead,” Ahsoka called over her shoulder. Your baby offered her a pleasant babble in response, and you smiled at the sound of Din’s chuckle.

“We sure did get a friendly one, didn’t we?” he asked.

You brushed your fingers over your baby’s ear, feeling an almost impossible amount of love for him when he smiled and cooed at you.

“Yeah, we did,” you agreed. You hoped that no matter what happened - whether he trained under Ahsoka or another Jedi, or stayed with you and Din - nothing would dim your little one’s bubbly and inquisitive personality.

As promised, you arrived at Ahsoka’s camp before long. Din set you down as she turned on her lantern, the warm golden light spilling over the ground in a small circle. You let your baby down to stretch his legs, and he toddled over to the lamp and greeted it with a curious babble.

A shiver took you by surprise, and you rubbed your hands over your arms as you realized how cool the night air was. You saw Ahsoka fasten her cloak over her shoulders and wished you’d thought to bring something; it had been warm when you left the Crest, and you didn’t know you’d be trekking through the mountains after you left the city.

“Here, cyare,” Din said from behind you. He unclasped his cloak and draped it over your shoulders. “Better?”

You snuggled into the warmth that enveloped you and gave him a grateful smile. “Much better. Thank you.”

Ahsoka perched on one of the small boulders near the lamp, watching your little one with a smile. You were unexpectedly endeared to the way she watched him with such obvious affection; though part of you wasn’t surprised, as your baby charmed everyone he met, you also hadn’t ventured to hope that she would even like him. You didn’t know how you felt about it; it would be much easier to justify not leaving him with her if she was unkind to him.

You watched as your baby clambered up onto the rock across from her; he sat still, uncharacteristic for your usually energetic and adventurous little one, and cooed up at her. He cocked his head and gestured with his little claws, something that still made you smile even if you’d seen him do a hundred times. 

“Look, Din,” you said. You nodded to your baby. “It’s almost like they’re talking.”

He watched them for a few moments; Ahsoka certainly seemed to be nodding in response to your baby’s gestures, but didn’t everyone do that to a baby? You were a little surprised when Din pulled you aside a few paces.

“What?” you asked, your voice low. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment; you put a hand on his arm.

“Talk to me,” you said. “What is it?”

He looked over at your baby, then back at you. His shoulders were tense, and you wish you knew the reason for his discomfort.

“What if they are speaking?” he asked. “What if... it’s some language only Jedi speak? What if that’s the only way he communicates?”

You frowned. “He’s only a baby, Din,” you reminded him. “He’ll learn Basic. He’s just little, that’s all.”

He gestured over to the two of them. “But what is that? It’s not Basic, and it’s not just baby talk. He’s saying something to her, and she understands it.”

You looked back over at them. You had thought there was something different, more intentional about your baby’s gestures and coos as he sat with Ahsoka, but you’d dismissed the idea as quickly as it occurred to you. With Din’s concern, though, it came back in full force - were they speaking? Could Ahsoka understand your child in a way even you couldn't?

The thought made you pale with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite identify. Grief, guilt, and sadness were among them, and something even a little like jealousy. 

“They can’t be,” you said, even as it became clear that they were. “He’s not - he can’t...”

You and Din had been interacting with your little one every day, talking to him like you would a human baby. Had he been trying to speak to you, and you just couldn’t understand him? Had you been parenting him inadequately this whole time, thinking you knew what was best for him?

Your chest tightened. How could you know what was best for him? You and Din weren’t Jedi. It was why you had been tasked with returning him to them, why you had been looking all over the galaxy for a Jedi - your baby belonged with them.

You looked over at Din, who had started to pace back and forth, agitation rolling off him in waves. You weren’t a pacer, but your discomfort needed somewhere to go; you worried the fabric of his cloak between your fingers, twisting and pulling at the well-loved cloth.

“Have we been doing this all wrong?” you asked.

He didn’t stop pacing. “What do you mean?” he asked, cautiously, as if he knew already.

You bit your bottom lip, feeling closer to tears than you wanted to be. “What if we - ” You shook your head. “What if we’re not what’s best for him, Din?”

That did stop his pacing, but he seemed no less tense. 

“We are,” he said. “Of course we are, cyare. Don’t talk like that. We’ve done the best we can.”

You felt a flash of frustration and guilt. “Isn’t that the problem?”

You thought of your other little one, the one growing inside you. You had considered yourself a decent mother - rough around the edges, perhaps, without your own mother’s help, and capable of making mistakes like everyone else. But with Din’s help, you were trying so hard to be the mother your babies needed - one who taught kindness and virtue, one who protected and cared for them above everything else. And you loved your son, like you already loved this baby you carried. You truly hadn’t considered a misstep of this magnitude, nor the idea that your son would really be better off with the Jedi.

“We can’t even speak to him, Din,” you said desperately. “How many other things are we doing wrong? How many other things am I doing wrong?”

Din read your distress easily and closed the distance between you. He put his hands on your shoulders, something he did when he really wanted you to listen to him.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, cyare,” he said. His voice was gentle and firm. “You’ve loved him as your own. You’ve taught him and protected him and loved him like he came from you. You can’t blame yourself for something you didn’t know.”

Your vision blurred in a wash of tears. 

“I knew he didn’t belong with me,” you said quietly. “Deep down, I must have known - I did know, and we were always supposed to bring him to the Jedi. I was never supposed to be his mother.”

His grip on your shoulders tightened.

“No, cyare.” He sounded hurt, heartsick. He released your shoulders; his hands hovered near you, as if unsure how best to comfort you.

“How can I convince you?” he asked. “You’re a wonderful mother, cyar'ika. He belongs with you. He belongs with us. He’s supposed to train with the Jedi, but  - we’re his family. We’ll always be his family, even if we have to let him go.”

You pressed your hands to your face, hiding behind them as a few tears fell. You leaned against his chest, and he gathered you in his arms.

“He’s your baby, cyar’ika,” he said gently, holding you close. “You’re his mother. You took the adoption vow just like I did. He belongs with us.”

You remembered the day you said the adoption vow, both you and your husband repeating the words after the armorer. Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad - I know your name as my child. Din had explained to you later that adopting a foundling was a very serious thing and a cause for great celebration: a parent and their foundling shared gai bal manda, name and soul. You had kissed your baby then, cradling him in your arms as Din held both of you close, calling him Djarin’ika - little Djarin.

You felt a wave of peace at the memory. He did belong with you. Whatever happened, he was your son, the little one who had made you a clan of three. Your little Djarin.

You took a deep, steadying breath and looked up at your husband.

“He belongs with us,” you said.

Din cradled your face in his hands and rested his helm against your head.

“Yes, cyare. No matter what happens, no matter how far apart we are. He’s still our son, and he’ll always belong with us.”

You rested against his touch for a few moments, both of you drawing strength and comfort from each other. You were so thankful for Din, for his kindness and honesty and unwavering love for you and your family.

“Our son is lucky to have you as his father, Din,” you said, holding his wrists in a gentle grip. “Your dad would be very proud of you.”

Din cleared his throat, the sound thick with tears. You pressed closer to him.

“Thank you, cyare,” he managed after a moment. “That means more to me than you know.”

You held him for a moment more, then pulled away just enough to press a kiss to his helmet, right over his cheek. “I love you.”

He released a shaky breath. “I love you too, cyar’ika.”

He held you for the space of a few heartbeats, seeming to collect himself; when he straightened, you could see from his body language how tired he was. The light of the huge moon shone weakly through the clouds and reflected dully off his beskar.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” you asked, looking over at Ahsoka and your baby.

Din shook his head. “I don’t know. I think that’s what we’re about to find out.”

Both of you watched as Ahsoka lifted your baby into her arms, carrying him with one hand and holding the lantern with the other. She made her way over to you, the lantern light swaying gently over the ground; you took Din’s hand in yours and tried to keep yourself from asking the hundreds of questions that ran through your mind.

She set the lantern down and placed your baby on the stone nearest Din. Your baby looked up at his father with a sweet little smile before he looked back at Ahsoka, babbling to her again as she sat across from him.

Din shifted his weight onto the other foot; his impatience, his nervousness, was easy to read.

“Is he speaking?” he asked her. “Can you... understand him?”

Ahsoka tucked her hands under her cloak, considering his question.

“In a way,” she said. She looked up at you. “Grogu and I can feel each other’s thoughts.”

You felt a wild, sudden thrill in your chest like the beating wings of a caged bird.

“Grogu?” both of you asked.

Your baby swung his gaze over to you, his little ears flopping with the movement. He cooed and looked up at you with those big, starry eyes, and you felt a deep ache in your chest.

“Yes,” Ahsoka said. You almost didn’t hear her. “That’s his name.”

Oh.

You couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t think anything. You squeezed Din’s hand, tightly.

“Grogu,” he said again. Gentle, wondering. Your little one looked up at him and gave him a curious coo.

You couldn’t help your beaming smile, then, nor the rush of tears that accompanied it. You knelt in front of him and extended your hand to him; he took hold of your finger and waved it happily.

“Hi, my love,” you said softly, only for him to hear. “My little Grogu.”

His ears perked up and he showed you a toothy grin, and you thought your heart might break with love for him.

“That’s right,” you said, and your voice was wobbly with emotion. You ran your thumb over his fingers. “Your mama loves you, Grogu Djarin.”

He giggled when you pressed a kiss to his head, touching your cheek with his little hand.

You felt Din’s hand on your shoulder; he knelt next to you, but kept his gaze trained on Ahsoka.

“What did he say?” he asked her. “When you were talking?”

You looked up at Ahsoka; her expression was calm and somber.

“He was raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant,” she told you. “Many masters trained him over the years. At the end of the Clone Wars when the Empire rose to power, he was hidden. Someone took him from the temple.”

You sent a silent thank you to the jate’kara for keeping your little one safe, for whoever had hidden him from those who sought to do him harm.

“Then his memory becomes... dark,” Ahsoka said. “He seemed lost. Alone.”

You wondered how long he had been alone before Din found him. You knew he must have been lost before he came to you, but you didn't like to dwell on it. To know he had been raised with the Jedi and had Masters train him and care for him, only to be taken away so suddenly and left all alone, tracked by bounty hunters and hunted by the Empire - you wished you could protect him from everything that had ever hurt him.

“I’ve only known one other being like this,” Ahsoka said. “A wise Jedi master named Yoda.”

Your baby - Grogu - looked over at her at the Jedi master’s name. She smiled.

“Can he still wield the Force?” she asked.

Din cocked his head. “You mean his powers?”

As much as you wanted to know more about Grogu’s past, you let your husband carry the conversation; your little one was tired, and his head nodded as his eyes fluttered shut. You gathered him into your arms and held him close; he grabbed a fistful of your shirt and snuggled close to you.

“The Force is what gives him his powers,” she explained. “It is an energy field created by all living things. To wield it takes a great deal of training and discipline.”

Din considered this. “I’ve seen him do things I can’t explain. Both of us have.”

His grip on your shoulder tightened, a warning and a comfort.

“Our task was to bring him to a Jedi,” he said.

Ahsoka shook her head. “The Jedi order fell a long time ago.”

“So did the Empire,” Din countered. “Yet it still hunts him. He needs your help.”

She looked at the baby in your arms for a long moment, the barest hints of sorrow and regret lining her face. However long ago the fall of the Jedi order had been, you knew she had not yet healed from the loss.

“Let him sleep,” she said gently. “I’ll test him in the morning.”

She rose, hesitating before she turned away. She looked at the three of you.

“He doesn’t feel lost or alone any more,” she said. “Not with you.”

You knew from her voice that she was telling you the truth. You searched her face, gratitude and sympathy warring as you saw the complicated mix of emotions across her expression.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely, your voice tight. “You’ve given us a great gift, Ahsoka. We’re more grateful to you than you know.”

Her smile was genuine, if shadowed by sadness. “You’re welcome.”

You watched her go, her figure enveloped by shadows as she stepped out of the light of the lantern. You wondered if she had any family, if she too had been lost and alone after the Jedi order fell.

You looked down at your baby.

“Grogu,” you said softly, not intending to wake him. It was a good name, fitting for your little one. Grogu of Clan Djarin, sharing name and soul with you and Din.

“Come on, cyare,” your husband said, his voice low so as not to wake the baby. He helped you to your feet and held you close for a moment, you and Grogu held safely in the circle of his arms.

“I can’t believe we know his name,” Din said softly. He brushed a finger over his son’s ear. “Grogu. Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, ad’ika.”

You swallowed. Your adoption vow meant that much more now that you knew his name. Din tapped his helm against the crown of your head, like a gentle kiss.

“We should try and get some rest,” he said. “I know you didn’t plan on being away from the Crest so long, though. I'm sorry.”

You shrugged. “It’ll be like the old days, right?” you said. You gave him a smile. “You forget I went with you on lots of hunts back then, and we ended up sleeping under the stars more than once.”

He put his hand around your waist and drew you close as he steered you towards a small clearing in the brush. 

“Oh no, cyare,” he said, an edge of teasing to his voice. “I haven’t forgotten those nights.”

You felt your face warm a little despite the cool night air. Back then, when the two of you were newly married and chasing the rush of bounty hunting, you rarely spent your nights under the stars just sleeping. That desire for each other had never dimmed, but becoming parents had cut down on your opportunities to be spontaneous, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had such a... risky liaison with your husband.

Din settled himself on the ground, his back propped up against a broad tree trunk. “We should do that again, sometime.”

You curled up next to him, resting against his chest and drawing his cloak around you and your baby. Din put his arms around you slowly ran his hand up and down your arm.

“Do what?” you asked. You hid a yawn behind your hand and leaned your head on his collar. “Start hunting again?”

He hummed in agreement. “Or just fly somewhere and go at each other as many times as we can before we get caught.”

You laughed. “Din,” you chided. You weren’t necessarily opposed to it, but you were less adventurous in that way than you had been back then. You preferred to make love to your husband somewhere you wouldn’t get caught.

He chuckled and drew you closer. “I’m only teasing,” he said. “But, we are going to have a new baby soon. Our chances for something like that are about to be few and far between.”

You hadn’t really though of that - bounty hunting would become more difficult than ever with two babies. Though you had enough credits saved that you didn’t need to hunt now, it was something you would have to work out eventually. But you were already overwhelmed with everything that had happened today; there was no use worrying about your future when you couldn’t do anything to change it right now.

You cuddled closer to your husband for warmth. “Sorgan,” you said.

He gave a soft grunt as he got comfortable. “What about it?”

Despite the darkness, and your back turned to him, you smirked. “You can go at me as many times as you want before we get caught, when we go back to Sorgan.”

“I thought we were going back to Sorgan to have the baby,” he said. His voice was intrigued, though, and you knew you’d piqued his interest.

You gave a half-shrug. “I guess you’ll have to take me back before then,” you said cooly. He would have taken you back regardless, if you asked and he thought it was safe; but you kind of liked the idea of getting back to your more adventurous days, even if it was just in the woods on a backwater planet rather than on a high-adrenaline bounty hunt.

He gave a soft laugh. “Alright, cyare,” he said. “You’ve still got a little shereshoy in you, hm?”

That was a Mandalorian word for living life to the fullest, having a zeal for the enjoyment of each day, no matter what it brought. You and Din had lived like that before Grogu came to be with you, in the traditional way; you still believed you lived it out now, even if it looked different than it had back then. You were a wife and a mother, and you loved it and wanted to do it for the rest of your life. It was a different kind of shereshoy, but one you liked just as much.

A little bit of adventure wouldn’t hurt, though.

“We’ll go back to Sorgan,” he promised. “Sometime before the baby’s born.”

He didn't say whether Grogu would be with you, and you didn’t ask. There’d be plenty of time for working through that with Ahsoka tomorrow, in all its confusion and sadness and worry. For right now, you were together - and that was enough for all of you.

Read chapter four!

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[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

BTS Reaction: The first time they are intimate with you

Namjoon

He would like the spontaneity. When the time was right, you both would just take things as they would go naturally. It’s a few weeks into your relationship. Namjoon wanted to go on an early morning hike with you and as much as you disliked being outside in the cold, you couldn’t deny that sipping on hot chocolate and watching the sunrise together sounded like the perfect way to spend your morning. It was a little colder than you both anticipated, so you decided to stay in the car and watch the sunrise with the warmth of the heater blowing on the two of you. You sip your drink until the sky becomes bathed in different hues of gold and pink. 

“It’s beautiful. Thank you for inviting me, Namjoon.” But when you turn to look at him you find he’s not looking at the sky at all, but at you. He’s taken with your beauty. The way the sun is shining on your skin is literally making you glow like an angel. And it’s in that moment that he thinks now is the right time. He sets his cup down and takes yours to set them both in the holder. The look in his eyes tells you all you need to know. You both lean in at the same time and a fire immediately ignites in both of you as your lips connect. His hands ghost down to the hem of your shirt and he begins to lift it over your head. His lips immediately drift down to your chest as he starts leaving love bites in his wake. 

“N-Namjoon, back seat. Move. Now.” He pulls away and lets out a snicker.

“Someone is impatient.” 

“Well who’s fault is that? Maybe you shouldn’t so damn handsome and such a good kisser, hmm?” He laughs a little louder at that and playfully smacks your butt as you’re climbing into the back. 

“You know this isn’t exactly how I’d imagine our first intimate moment together being like.” You blush in embarrassment for a moment at his words. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. As long as it’s with you, that’s all that matters to me.” Even though there is a possibility of someone else seeing you two, you take your time with one another. Exploring each other’s bodies, what makes the other tick. By the time you’re done you are both spent, slowly drifting off to sleep as he covers you both up with a blanket he put in the back incase you got cold on your hike, and hoping to whatever deity is listening that the windows are tinted enough that no one will be able to see the both of you.

Jin

Jin had texted you earlier and asked you to come over to his apartment for a ‘surprise’. You had no idea what was in store for you. The last time that happened you were cleaning flour out of your hair for days, having become a victim of another one of his pranks. Jin was always very playful with you. So when you got a text just asking you to come over because it was very important, you didn’t hesitate to drop everything you had planned to go be with him. You walked into his apartment and it was pitch black, save for a soft glow that was coming from the living room. 

“Jin?” 

“In here, baby!” You walk into the room and find that the soft glow is coming from a pillow and blanket fort decorated with fairy lights. 

“Love, what is all this? Oh my goodness!” You take in the sight around you. The lights are twinkling like stars in the night sky, your favorite fluffy blanket of his makes up the flooring, and he’s stuffed the fort absolutely full with pillows. In the center of all this, sits your boyfriend with a single red rose in his mouth, and other petals scattered about the blankets and pillows. He winks at you suggestively and you bring a hand up to your mouth to stifle your laugh. He pats the spot next to him and you walk over to lay down next to him. He takes the rose out of his mouth and hands it to you. 

“A beautiful flower for my beautiful flower, y/n.” You blush but take the rose and smile up at him. 

“So what’s the occasion?” 

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“Okay.” You sit up but he gently pushes you to lay back down. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him so your back is against his chest. A kiss is placed on the top of your head. 

“So we’ve been together for a while now. Almost a year.” 

“Mhm.” His fingers are running through your hair now and you feel yourself starting to drift off. 

“And I really want to show you how serious I am about you. I trust you with my heart. And I’m ready to give it to you completely.” Your eyes snap open and you turn around so you’re facing him. 

“Do you mean that?”

“Every word. I just.. want to thank you for being patient with me and waiting until I was ready. It’s not that I didn’t trust you! It’s just... in my line of work you tend to get used a lot and I was afraid. I didn’t want it to happen again.” Your heart aches at his confession. 

“Of course. I’m in it for the long haul, you’re stuck with me.” 

“That’s all I could ever want. You by my side, knowing that my heart will always be safe...” He fidgets with the sleeve of his sweater, picking at a loose string as if he’s nervous to meet your gaze.  “Can we?” 

“Yes.” You nod your consent and his lips barely brush against yours. He takes his time with you, loving you and completely worshipping every inch of you. 

Yoongi

Yoongi has wanted to take your relationship forward for a while now. But he wasn’t going to make the first move because he didn’t want you to feel pressured, he would take this at your pace, until you were comfortable enough with him. 

You were at the studio with him, loving to just sit and watch him create music. He often would ask for your input and opinions and you were all too happy to give them, feeling honored that you got to hear the songs he was working on before anyone else. He’s in the middle of finishing up his latest song for his mixtape when you say something that nearly makes him choke on his coffee.

“Yoongi do you think I’m attractive?” He almost thinks he must not have heard you correctly, so he asks you to repeat yourself. 

“W-what did you say?”

“I asked if you think I am attractive.” 

“What kind of- Are you kidding? You’re the most beautiful and sexy person I have ever seen in my life and I am so happy to call you mine.”

“Then why do you never, you know.. take things farther? When we kiss and it gets even the least bit heated you pull away and ruffle my hair and kiss my forehead. Everytime.” 

He’s stunned at your words. He didn’t realize you had been feeling this way and he feels awful. “You think I don’t want you?”

“I mean I know you love me but.. I just don’t know if you think I am pretty enough to-” 

“Stop it. Come here.” He pats his lap and you move off the couch to straddle his hips. He grips yours tightly and before you can speak another word his lips are on yours like a man starved. You barely have time to breathe for a second as his lips seem to refuse to leave yours. He pulls away to finally give you a break and when he does, he has that signature smirk on his face that makes your stomach clench. 

“Let me show you just how much I’ve wanted my hands on you, from the start.”

Yoongi puts as much fire and passion if not more than he does into his music. He’s rough with you, leaving marks visible on your neck and marks on your hips from how tightly he’s holding onto you. Wanting you to see evidence for weeks of just how much he wants you. Afterwards he’s like a completely different person. Having gone completely pliant for you. He clings tightly to you like a koala, refusing to let you go even to get dressed. He’s going to make damn sure you feel loved appreciated. 

Hoseok

You went to the studio with Hoseok to watch him perform the new choreography he was working on. You absolutely loved watching him dance. He put every bit of passion he had in him into his dance and it showed. By the intense expression on his face, by the way he kept dancing even after he was drenched in sweat, by the way that even when his brows were furrowed in concentration you could see a smile behind his eyes with the way they shined. He was totally in his element and you would forever be grateful to get to see him like this in a way most people never got to. 

This dance was a little... different from the others he had shown you. The way he was moving his hips was leaving little to your imagination. It was like he was purposely trying to seduce you, and it was working. You found yourself gravitating towards him without even realizing it and before long you were standing flush up against his back, arms snaking around his waist. 

“Hoseok did you invite me here to try and have your way with me?” He laughs at that and turns around in your hold. 

“Hmm.. well it wasn’t my sole intention. But I found myself thinking if this lead to other things... I can’t say I would mind.” He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. You playfully smack his chest and laugh along with him. “I mean it’s only fair! This is the place where I do what I love most everyday, it only makes sense that you should be added to that.” His expression darkens and your laughter immediately ceases as his lips crash onto yours. 

The tension had been building up between the two of you long enough, and you both reached your release quickly. Laying on the floor, the only sound being both of your heavy breaths filling the room. 

“That was.. wow.”

“Yeah, wow.”

“You up for round 2, sweetheart?” 

Jimin

It was pretty early on in your relationship when you and Jimin were intimate for the first time. He naturally showed his love and affection for others through touches, cuddles, hugs, and kisses. So when he quickly fell for you he wasted no time in making sure that you knew that. You were both laying on your side on his bed, facing each other. He had a hand resting gently on your waist as he rubbed circles with his thumb onto your side. Every once in a while he would lean in and place kisses on your nose, cheeks, and forehead making you let out light breaths of laughter. 

“You’re so beautiful you know that?”

“Hmm, I think you may told me that a time or two.” 

“And you’re so cute. I love your laugh. It’s my favorite sound in the world.” 

“Jimin...” Your eyes soften and you lean in and finally connect your lips together His fingers immediately grasp you a little tighter and pull you closer. 

“I just really really like you y/n. I’ve never fallen for someone this quickly before and I don’t quite know what to do. It’s scary.” You cup his face in your hands and lightly kiss his cheeks.

“You don’t have to be afraid. I really like you too. And for the record I also think your laugh is the best sound in the world. And you’re really beautiful too.” Things just naturally fall into place after that. Jimin is gentle with you, but every bit as passionate. He is a dancer after all, and he is going to put those hips to work to make sure you would never want to be with anyone else ever again, that you will never doubt just how strong his feelings for you are becoming. Afterwards he’s very clingy, refusing to leave your side or let you go. He’s still laying on top of you, pressing kisses over your chest and neck. 

“Jimin you’re gonna get me all riled up again, stop it.” 

“What if that’s my intention?”

“Oh my gosh you are insatiable we already went at it twice. My thighs hurt.” He chuckles at you and leans down to kiss right where you just said was aching. He feels the muscles twitch under his lips. “Jimin!”

“I know, angel I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I just want to make sure this is real. You’re actually here and I’m not just imagining it. Sometimes I think you’re too perfect and I just made you up.” He rolls off of you and lays on his side, gazing at you with wide, wondering eyes. 

“I can assure you this is very real. I am real. My love for you is real. And nothing is ever going to change that or make it fade.” 

Taehyung

Taehyung had everything planned. You two had been together for a few months now, and even if it wasn’t very long, he knew. You were it for him. He wanted everything to be perfect. So he planned a very nice romantic night out for the two of you. There was an overlook he had found when he had gone on an early morning hike with Namjoon for a Run punishment, and when he saw it he knew he wanted to take you there. He had packed a basket for the two of you with your favorite snacks and a bottle of wine to share. He had the blanket spread out and fluffed up all the pillows. You two spent the evening sharing stories with each other and making one another laugh. That was what you always loved about yours and Taehyung’s relationship. It was as easy as breathing, completely natural. And you both were head over heels for one another and could feel the love shared between you two with a single glance. 

As the night was winding down and moon was shining on you, he found himself absolutely taken with your beauty and couldn’t help himself. He wanted to wait until you two got home, but seeing how you looked right now in this moment he knew he wasn’t going to be able to wait that long. He’s a patient man, but even he has his limits. You saw the change in his expression, from sweet and gentle to passionate with his pupils blown with want for you. 

“Y/n I love you. More than anything in this world and I want to show you just how much. Is that okay?” He tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you close to him, connecting your lips together at last. When you pull away you’re breathless. He’s staring at you, waiting for your consent to take things further. 

“I love you too. And I am more than okay with that. Make me yours, Tae. Please.” 

He’s gentle and sweet with you, pouring every ounce of love he has for you in every kiss, every touch. He takes his time with you, wanting to savor every moment and commit everything to memory. The way you sound, the way you taste, the way you look at him like he’s your entire world. And he’s looking right back at you the same way.

Jungkook

When Jungkook invited you over to watch a movie with him, he wasn’t planning for things to have escalated the way that they did. One minute you were laughing at something funny the main character had said as he admired your laugh and how beautiful you looked with your head thrown back, a fit of giggles escaping your lips. The next you were under him breathing heavily and moaning his name. He froze at that, lifting himself up to hover over you. 

“I-I’m sorry! Is this okay? I didn’t even ask, I just sort of pounced on you.” You giggle and rest your hand on his cheek, trying to set his mind at ease. 

“It’s okay. I want this just as much as you do.” 

“A-are you sure? Like, really sure? I.. I don’t want you to feel like you have to or anything. We can wait for another time I mean, it’s not a special occasion or anniversary or a-anythi-” You cut off his rambling with a gentle kiss to his lips and he seems to relax, his arms giving out as he rests himself back on top of you. 

“Are you nervous? You tend to talk really fast and stutter when you are.” 

“A little. Yes. Okay a lot.” 

“Why?”

“Because it’s just.. it’s you. You’re perfect and beautiful and amazing in every way.” 

“And like you said, it’s just me. You don’t have to be nervous around me. I’ll take care of you.” His cheeks flush as he nods and rolls over onto his back, tugging you with him to straddle his hips. He tries to hide his face, suddenly feeling quite shy but you aren’t having it, tugging his arms away and placing them over his head. 

“Those stay up.” 

“Sure thing boss.” You giggle and lean down to kiss him. Things quickly turn heated after that as you set the pace you’re comfortable with. Jungkook completely lets you take over, wanting nothing more than to make you feel good above all else.