#also i wanted to title the drawing something like 'how does it feel to be loved without needing to do a thing'
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Season 3 Official Trailer Breakdown
*Huge disclaimer that this show is so unpredictable that all of my guesses will probably be wrong. I know many of these shots are probably misdirections and missing important context.*
Lottie spotted alive and well and looking great (with a bodyguard? Or just a very well dressed man?)
A series of scenes that imply Nat is definitely in some hot water this season. It seems that she might have known where Coach Ben was but didn’t tell the group to protect him, which pisses the rest of the group off enough to question her leadership. Unlike Lottie, Nat wasn’t chosen by the group to lead them, which will likely result in tension and resentment from those who feel like she didn’t earn her new title. The group is shifting towards ferocity and darker morals, so maybe Nat can't meet the group’s needs or take them down the path they want to go on. Maybe the trial we saw in the first trailer was actually related to Nat? But why would Coach Ben be there in the background for that?
With the way Nat looks on her knees in the middle of the group and the vitriol she seems to be facing, I am so interested to see how she makes it out of this alive. However, I do think it’s important to note that, in the close up shot we get of her with blood on her face, there are no actual wounds visible. It could be someone else’s blood!
And related to that, we see the group setting up what appears to be a makeshift table. As we saw with Javi, I wonder if this table is being set up to butcher something (or someone) on. Or just to have a nice innocent family feast on.
I think it’s interesting to note that the clip immediately following this is Nat in what appears to be an apron with her hair pulled back. To me this looks like Nat is going to be the one doing the butchering in this scene (the apron and her hair being pulled back implies that she’s trying not to get blood on her clothes and hair). Could Nat be relegated to Shauna’s role as the butcher after Shauna becomes the new leader? Or is she just filling in for the moment?
It looks like Travis might be getting bit here (by Shauna?) while Lottie laughs. I really have no guesses as to what’s going on here. Maybe Travis stood up for Nat and therefore was attacked? I have a feeling Travis is going to be very conflicted as to where his loyalties lie this season, which might make him a target. The first image could actually be Mari getting the chomp, though, as we have already seen a clip of Shauna biting her hand in the previous trailer.
It looks like Tai is attacking Van here (!!), which I'm willing to bet is Other Tai taking over, and we also see Tai screaming and crying (which I'm guessing is related to her attacking Van?). I'm wondering if this could be some kind of nightmare Taissa is having of losing control and hurting Van, which reflects how she is afraid of herself and her lack of control over her darker alternate. Or it could be her actually attacking Van. And is it just me or does it look like they are wearing the same outfits in the attacking scene and the scene where they're running through the street?
It looks like Shauna (and likely the other survivors) will be receiving some threatening letters and tape recordings from an unknown source (Shauna says that someone is trying to kill them for what they did in the wilderness). It looks like Shauna received both a letter (notably addressed to Shauna Shipman, not Sadecki, which could be a way of hinting that this person knows her past) and a tape? And then it looks like she is trying to secretly play the tape in her bathroom (trying to hide it from Callie and Jeff?).
There's another clip of Mari running from the group again and hiding behind a tree, very reminiscent of when Nat hid behind the tree after drawing the Queen card in S2. Even though Mari does look genuinely scared here, the second clip of Mari laughing with Van in what appears to be the same scene makes me wonder if this is actually not Mari running for her life and rather just a fun game the YJs are playing. Maybe they're literally playing tag or something? Or maybe they were playing a harmless game which quickly devolved into something darker.
A closer shot of Tai holding the gun. This time, we can see she is not as stoic as she appeared in the promotional images we saw before. She's crying, and I feel like that combined with the following clip of blood splattered on some leaves nearby confirms that Tai put to the task of shooting someone in this scene. Mari is in the background, so its not her, so is it Coach Ben? Why is Tai the one chosen to carry it out?
We see more of that scene where Shauna is being pulled down into the lake by someone/something. I truly have no idea what is going on in this scene. I am kind of hoping that its Nat taking revenge and trying to threaten her/drown her but I am 90% sure that's not going to happen. Who do we think would try to drown Shauna?
Pretty sure this is Mari spraying Shauna with some kind of mace! And by the looks of it, Shauna probably deserves it (sorry). Maybe this is following the scene where Shauna is trying to bite Mari's hand and then Mari sprays her with whatever this is to defend herself?
A shot of a hooded figure holding the rifle, with some other hooded figures following behind. To me this looks like some kind of search party, like they are hunting someone down who ran away and hid. I wonder if they're looking for Nat? Especially after Shauna's "We'll give the wilderness what it wants" line. They could also be searching for Coach Ben or Mari.
Tai and Misty about to smother someone to death in a hospital?? I would think this person must know too much about what they did in the wilderness and therefore they have to kill him. Another part of me is really just hoping they're smothering Lottie's dad to death because I know he's going to be in this season and I really hate that guy, but I am also pretty sure that's just wishful thinking on my part.
Things aren't looking too good for Akilah. The expression on her face and the way she's being held up by someone make it seem like she just got shot or stabbed/is actively dying. But not sure if they would be bold enough to show that in the trailer. Whatever is happening to Akilah here, she definitely doesn't look like she's doing too great.
I'll say it: I think we're getting a Pit Girl reveal this season! Or at least we will get up to the point in the storyline right before Pit Girl. These are the same outfits we see the group donning in the opening scene of the pilot episode. We can clearly see the skunk head (referred to as The Hunter in the script) who was standing over the pit trap looking down at Pit Girl's body. It is still pretty impossible to tell who's who. But I think this tells us that Season 3 will go through spring, summer, and into the beginning of the second winter (or we could just be getting flash-forwards to winter). Looks like they've gone full feral at this point, they've got spears and they are definitely hunting someone down. I wonder if this is actually the Pit Girl scene itself, just from the perspective of the hunters now instead of the prey.
This is pretty much confirmed to be Lottie given that we have behind the scenes photos of Simone Kessell wearing this exact dress and heels. Lottie, I am so scared for you, please be okay. hoping she's just passed out or something. Or maybe she just got tired and she's taking a nap...on a dark mysterious concrete floor surrounded by candles.
And last but absolutely not least we have Lottie eating the fuck out of someone with blood all over her face. The cannibalism in this season has been turned up to 11 for sure.
--
There are some shots that I left out because I ran out of room! There are just so many details in this trailer that I want to unpack, but I tried to pick out the ones I found most important. Some other important shots not mentioned were the arrow in the tree trunk (I'm guessing this is actually the adult timeline since I'm really not sure where the girls would get an arrow like that in the wilderness, unless it belongs to someone outside of the group👀), a Queen card being picked up off the street in the adult timeline, the floating lantern scene we have seen in promotional photos, the girls having a feast, Travis walking with the rifle, and the girls running around their makeshift huts having fun (wholesome).
#sorry if i missed anything!#I will be wrong about all of this mark my words#and i fully expect all of you to pretend you never saw this when that happens#yellowjackets#yellowjackets season 3#yj#natalie scatorccio#lottie matthews#misty quigley#taissa turner#shauna shipman#van palmer
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hi!! happy new year!! if you're taking requests, would you be willing to draw some joel/etho/grian? :] fav polyship of mine!!
Okay, I never talk about how fucking crazy I am for these morons, because I usually just think it's pretty obvious, but I never have been normal, I am not capable of normalcy with these guys.
#> tired fanart#> tired asks#what is their ship name i have got not a clue#gribeans#smalletho#if any of you say 'smallgritho' i will explode you#with me mind powers#hermitshipping#trafficshipping#grian#joel smallishbeans#ethoslab#also i wanted to title the drawing something like 'how does it feel to be loved without needing to do a thing'#but it hit me too close to home and I reverted#gribeanstho#that's it im locking in this tag
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i'm having hyperfixation drought so i did what i did best and created a crossover episode
#trafficblr#life series#hermitcraft#qsmp#the drought's been crazy i had to make qsmp x life series/hermitcraft you don't understand i literally had to#i literally cannot tag all of the cubitos without going over the limit so i'm gonna use them to rant about these doodles instead#when i tell you that i think dl!pearl would've loved tilín i'm telling you i think she would've LOVED them like.#something about just wanting to find love at every turn but feeling unwanted spdihgpisadhfpa. and also tilín's name is similar to tilly LOL#the jelly egg is just like if the double life jelly pandas were just an egg that scar loves with all his heart and grian reluctantly accept#i think out of all the duos in qsmp. the one i would want to see in the dl soumate premise the most is slimeriana. it's the dysfunctionalit#i made a post in the past about pac and tango being my fav cubitos bcs they were both crazy cartoonish and like scientists#but it kinda felt like a disservice to leave mike and zedaph out because to me they're argubly crazier and more cartoonish#missa and tim are paired bcs i just really wanted an excuse to draw the wet cats and it just so happened they both have relations to death#skizz and jaiden as the lawyers who were SHOCKINGLY good at their jobs like they cooked with that one#(was also gonna draw joe and roier as bad lawyers but i was running outta steam)#someone's already made a post about grian and (el) quackity and their eye entities so not much elaboration needed there#fit and etho just give the same vibe to be as a dude who has a reputation and is well-known and seems intimidating#i also made fit's arms way too skinny and i don't like it...but i'm not gonna go back and change it now i spent embarassingly long on this#but then his silliness is brought out by The Narrative#foolish and bdubs is one of my favorite drawings because i just knew i wanted to highlight the silly height difference#just realized they're also both god-like figures at least at some point#cellbit and rendog. cat and dog and lore. enough said about their connection.#i couldn't decide who fit etoiles combat hungry anime protagonist vibe best bcs martyn was originally paired with him#but i wanted martyn with phil so i went with my second options: joel and gem#i couldn't draw them mid rage but essentially the title is derived from “WHO KILLED EMPANADA” and “do me a favor. die for me.”#philza minecraft and martyn inthelittlewood. they feel like twins but one is evil (it's martyn)#SOMETHING I FORGOT THAT I WISH I ADDED: BBH AND BIGB AS THE ENTITIES WHO LIE. I HATE MYSELF HOW COULD I FORGET THAT#if i were to pair impulse with someone it would be tubbo? either him or scar would've been with tubbo#and then lizzie i just did not know who i wanted to pair her with. no one really does it like her in my opinion#scott's someone i also had no idea who to put him with he's just so...him...
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aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I love Kaneki so much!!!!!! I want to do puzzles with him and watch his expression as he tries to figure out what to do with a difficult piece!!!!!! I want to paint still-lifes of the coffees he makes!!!! I want to take him to the nursery to pick out new bulbs to plant in the spring!!!!!!! I want to buy Kaneki a desk!!!!!!!!!!!
#I would paint a still life of a ghoul he’s de-kakuhoued and title it “Kaneki’s Work 5”#but I feel like he wouldn’t want a picture like that up#maybe he’d be embarrassed#what other stuff does he make#he needs to get into making bookmarks I want to see him surrounded by wavy scissors and watercolours and ribbons crafting away#oil painting of a bookmark Kaneki made. god bless him#I would say his poetry if he liked writing his own but I’m not really sure#also idk how you paint a picture of someone’s poem besides visualising it as a scene#that would be a cute idea ngl he can write something and I will draw it for him and it’s like a collaboration#I will personally go to the store and buy silk cardboard and the highest quality calligraphy paper#and select a ribbon in his favourite colour and then use the Chinese bookbinding technique to make him the nicest notebook for his writing#I’ll find some way to print a design onto the silk for the cover probably wood block but idk how silk printing works#I would find out for him#and he can have whatever design he would like for his notebook#we can have a photo shoot of him with his new book#I think Kaneki should meet an eel#kaneki time
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"once more to see you" ; aventurine
summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet
note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.
“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down.
you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind.
(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)
“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.
he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”
“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.
“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.
“i’m sure he will.”
silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so.
aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.
you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two.
“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.
the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.
“do what?”
“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.
“why do you think so?”
“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave.
“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”
he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”
“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”
he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.
“i love you.”
“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed?
you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”
you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”
“i don’t know.” he whispers.
“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.
the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.
for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
#azul.writes#hsr#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine honkai star rail#aventurine hsr#star rail aventurine#aventurine x you#hsr x you#star rail#honkai#aventurine#honkai imagines#aventurine imagines#honkai x reader#hsr fluff#hsr aventurine x reader
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ORDINARY THINGS ⋆ 정국
after a lost match, jeongguk’s only source of comfort is you.
୨ৎ from the grande series
pairings: soccer captain!jk x fem!reader
genre: fluff, established relationship
warnings: lower case intended, i wanna say that i know very little about soccer, even more about what goes on behind the scenes, but of course i had to put jeongguk in bellingham’s iconic holey socks hehe 😻, it’s a bit angsty at first just bc ggukkie is an angsty boy, but then all of it is just fluff really! hints at mental illness, heavy use of the pet name baby, they’re so funny i love them, theyre also horny! only mentions of sex tho, and sexy kisses and touches keke
word count: 6990
a/n: waaa omg i managed to keep this under 10k words who’s proud of me! this is so slow but im in love w their domestic dynamic 🙁
────୨ৎ────
the piercing whistle cuts through the air.
it marks the official end of the match, sealing the loss of your boyfriend’s team. the sound feels sharp, final, not only to the game.
you knew this was fairly important. it wasn’t too decisive on the team’s position in the ranking, but you knew it mattered to him. like every other game, regardless of stakes.
whether it was a friendly or a tournament, jeongguk had no other mode but all in.
that dedication shows in every tense line of his body now. the weight of defeat begins to sink in, and you can see it on his face, the way it affects him.
you can already sense what’s swirling around in his mind, behind the quiet exterior. you’re sure of it from how he still stands there, avoids his surroundings, keeps his eyes glued to the ground, the green field suddenly more captivating.
you don’t need words to know. he’s retreating inward, locking away his disappointment, and likely taking on more than just the burden of his own loss.
he’s probably thinking of his teammates, feeling like he let them down too. allowing it all to crash on him, the single outcome of this match unraveling everything he worked hard for.
his confidence shatters with the referee’s whistle, and it shuts down the noise of the crowd, makes him unresponsive to the comforting pats on his back from his friends. it’s all a distant hum to him now.
jeongguk is deliberately slow as he almost mechanically leads his exhausted self out the pitch, body moving without his mind’s consent.
he doesn’t care if it’ll take him forever to take these steps. if he’s the last one leaving. he just needs a moment to figure out his next move.
but can he? can he face his team without this ugly feeling gnawing at him? can he keep lying, tell them they did well, that they’ll do better next time, while his own mask suffocates him? is he even deserving of the captain title?
he doubts it, his legs moving as if the world has time to offer him, body struggling under the weight of a lifeless feeling creeping in.
your heart clenches painfully. from the sidelines, watching him like this breaks something in you.
you grip the hem of your tennis skirt, fingers twitching as you fight the crazed urge rising in your throat to just run to him.
it’s hard to find your breaths when witnessing your boyfriend destroying himself as if that’s the only treatment he thinks he’s deserving of. but you also know the last thing you want to do right now is to draw more attention to him when he’s so raw, vulnerable. when every eye in the stadium strips him bare.
and you just want to put his every piece back, cover him in warmth. your mind is made up when you abruptly stand up, hastily making your way toward the locker room before he can get there, offering polite smiles to the players who are already getting inside.
you settle outside the door, waiting.
jeongguk drags behind the others, eyes still casted down. he’s so absorbed in his escape, so lost in the act of avoidance, that you’re certain he won’t notice you, with your beating heart held out to him in your cold hands.
yet, he does find some sort of answer in the ground he keeps staring at, asking for solutions.
amidst the worn, muddied football boots, he spots your shoes. dr. martens platforms, the ones you pair with white socks that ruffle at the top.
the sight is enough to pull him out of his daze, and he looks up.
the door to the locker room closes behind the last player, the heavy thump echoing in the long hallway. it startles you, just as jeongguk’s sudden awareness startles him, and you search for some sort of stability in each other’s eyes.
his own are glossy with unshed tears, and they glisten under the harsh fluorescent light. it doesn’t help the way his vision gets blurrier and pulls you farther from him.
but he needs to see you— the comfort in your face, the one that he feels as though he can’t breathe without.
jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut, the tears slipping free, but the moment he flutters his eyelids open and meets you clearly, he doesn’t care.
his wide, tear-filled gaze takes you in. brows drawn up, your expression seems to mirror his. you’ve always absorbed people’s emotions to an almost extreme degree. when others cry, so do you. and when jeongguk cries, it feels like the whole world is falling apart.
but you can’t afford that happening, and you’ll hold its full weight on your shoulders to prevent such thing.
this time, you need to be stronger for him. swallowing the lump rising in your throat, you blink back your own tears and take a hesitant step toward him.
jeongguk, so much taller than you, seems to shrink before your eyes. right now, he’s the smallest, most fragile boy.
“baby,” your voice is a soft whisper, arms stretching open in a subtle invitation, one that he doesn’t need to be asked twice.
the moment you speak and break the quiet, the dam he’s been holding up crumbles. he crashes into you, hands wrapping tightly around your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck.
the impact makes you stumble slightly, but you hold him just as tight in return, focusing on his sharp breaths against your skin, wet with his tears, body trembling in your embrace.
your arms wrapped around his neck, you squeeze him hard, as if he’s a sponge that you’re trying to empty from all the dirty liquid. all the exhaustion, the anxiety, the guilt.
with the way he downright drops his full weight on you, you guide him to sit on the bench just outside the locker room. he slumps beside you, heavy and limp against you, seeking your warmth and comfort the way an addict seeks for the drug that’s able to keep them going.
you sit like that for a while, and you think it’s better this way. he has time to let it out against your chest, and you have the time that you need to compose yourself before you’re met with the full extent of his brokenness.
the second you see his tear stricken face, you think all of the effort was useless. you’re so, so weak.
jeongguk hiccups, lifts his face, his wide eyes flitting between yours like one would follow a tennis match at his peak point, searching for something, the smallest indicator of victory.
the tears make his cheeks red, and it adds to the frantic pleading he trips on, “b—baby, please. i don’t— i’m tired. wanna— home—“
“hey, gguk. ggukie, breathe,” you’re gentle when you cut him off, taking his face between your small palms to try and steady his panic, and mostly yourself. you’re fighting hard to not break too, to try and be the anchor he needs.
you take exaggerated deep breaths, hoping he’ll mirror you, and after a few moments his chest rises and falls in sync with yours, warm breath fanning over your lips.
imperceptibly, you feel his panic begin to ebb. his brows relax and his eyelids blink slower, regaining consciousness of his surroundings.
his hands reach up, covering yours as they rest at his jaw, squeezing them, and he exhales shakily, still not fully over his agitation, “i’m sorry. i wanna go home. i don’t— don’t wanna do interviews, don’t wanna see anyone. don’t wanna talk to coach. i just wanna be with you, please.”
his speech is hushed, pleading, his words slurred as if afraid you’re going to stop him, force him to go through the motions of what’s expected of him before he can beg further.
you brush his cheek with your thumb in a slow motion, moving him closer to you, your voice as careful as possible, “but, jeongguk… we can’t disappear without at least telling the others. coach will want you to answer—“
“please, love. please,” he cuts you, words trembling, “don’t make me go through this. i’m too weak now. i can’t.”
you’ve never seen jeongguk like this before.
it’s been over two years since he asked you to be his girlfriend. that night, he scored a goal for you. you knew it the moment the ball hit the net.
even with his teammates swarming him in celebration, his eyes searched for yours, locking on the moment he found you in the stands.
wrapped in your wool scarf, your face almost fully hidden, the way your eyes turned into crescents and your cheekbones so prominent was unmistakable.
the smile that you shared was sheepish, but brimming with meaning. carrying all those emotions you had both been tiptoeing around for so long.
for a while, your feelings had been caught in a slow dance, never fully picking up, but nonetheless comfortable with the motion.
jeongguk always found a reason to have you near, inviting you to practices and matches, because only your presence could give him the strength needed. and you always found a reason to show up.
even more when you easily fell into the routine that followed every encounter, evenings spent at your apartment, on your couch.
it was a schedule you soon came to love, with him making you laugh, an arm draped over your shoulder, your leg casually resting across his lap. the movies you would put on would quickly become background noise as his playful jokes turned into shared glances, quiet giggles, and stolen kisses.
kisses that felt like the ones teenagers share when they’re crushing on someone for the very first time.
kisses that didn’t evolve into anything more until that night, when he scored for you. it was unashamedly sweet, the feeling he gave you.
back at his flat, his face lit up with a grin so big it was infectious. the rush of adrenaline from winning the game and the joy of finally making you his girlfriend radiated from him.
it’s a stark contrast to his expression, now. it’s drawn with helplessness, clouded with a desperation that makes you ache.
he looks tired of fighting, of holding it all together. and it’s not just that— there’s a deep yearning, a frantic search, a needy plea to be understood, to be seen by you.
there’s nothing that truly comes more innately to you. it’s second nature, caring for him. knowing him. looking after him. tending to his physical and emotional scars. and you don’t want him to scrape his skin further.
you try to reason, “what— what about your things, don’t you at least want to—“
“i’ll ask taehyung to take my bag with him or something,” for the state he’s currently in, he still looks willing to do anything if it means getting out of here. and so, he begs again, “please. can we go home?”
you know you can’t say no to him. that’s not something that comes as good to you. not in your nature.
“this is not the way to your house.”
still in his soccer jersey, the uniform’s shorts touching his knees and holey socks high up his calves, muddy boots hurting his feet, jeongguk sits quietly next to you in the backseat of his car.
his chauffeur drives steadily, away from the hurt, and each mile puts more distance between jeongguk and the weight of the loss, the field, the pressure. he feels himself leave fragments of disappointment behind, back there.
it’s been a long time since it was just the two of you in his car. jeongguk would be the one driving, his left hand steady on the wheel, the right one always reaching for yours, a quiet confirmation of his love.
now, someone else takes care of the driving, especially after games, or in moments like these when jeongguk’s mind and body are too exhausted to handle anything more.
ever since the goal that changed everything between you two, jeongguk’s life took off. a big team recognized his potential and signed him, a moment that marked his breakthrough as pro in the football world.
then, it became a whirlwind. constant games, media attention, opportunities flooding in, and money pouring from every direction.
he bought a house — a mansion, really, — just outside the city, the kind of place he dreamed of as a small kid with big ambitions. everything about it is luxurious, grand, all jeongguk thought he wanted.
but there’s been something left behind, back in the quieter days when he was just a young player fighting for his place on this planet.
you met him before the fame, before his name was on the backs of jerseys and his face on billboards. you fell in love with the boyish version of him, the one who lived in a cramped flat, working tirelessly to make a name for himself.
you’ve been there through every step, enough to recognize the struggle in his eyes.
you so easily catch that flicker of awareness in him. the jolting confirmation that all of this is real, his orbs trembling. and when it hits, he retreats into himself, lets anxiety creep in.
he may not voice it, but you know the root of it. the fear of losing himself, of becoming someone else, of forgetting the version of him that’s grounded in simplicity and love.
jeongguk fears intertwining himself with what he always wanted will inevitably erase what he’s always been, the son of hardworking parents in busan, raised on sacrifice and dreams.
what he always had with you. quiet, uncomplicated. happy with the ordinary things, eating ramen on the floor of his tiny apartment, driving around just to talk about anything and nothing, reading quietly next to each other in the cafè you’ve introduced him to, your presence a comfort to him long before he realized he loved you as more than a friend.
jeongguk wants to hold onto that simplicity, and he wants you to be part of that. he wants you to stay by his side, to be the reminder of who he is beneath all the noise. what he wants to keep being.
because you’re his constant, unwavering, never changing. you’ve never needed him to be more than who he already is. you never look at him with the kind of judgment or disappointment that seems to follow him after every missed opportunity. there’s no pressure, no expectations of success.
in your eyes, he is just jeongguk— the same boy that approached you with a bad pun only to clumsily blame it on his drink. the one you built a familiar rhythm with, ordinariness always just enough for you. for the two of you, together.
you don’t need mansions, fancy restaurants, designer clothes. you don’t need grandeur. you’ll stay the way it’s always been, and the way you both want it to stay.
he quickly scans your face, letting your words register. your brows are furrowed slightly, pouty lips parted as if you’re about to tell the driver that he’s going the wrong way, headed somewhere other than the house he now calls home.
before you can speak, jeongguk interrupts you, his voice soft and suddenly self aware, “oh, i— sorry, i gave directions to your apartment. i just really wanted to be there with you.”
you blink at his fragile honesty. he had begged to be home, and now here you were, on the way to your own.
warmth spreads through you, and you can’t help but break into a big smile, one that eases the tension in his forehead, and mirrors softly in the grin that tugs at his pierced lips.
leaning in, you place a peck on his cheek, “it’s okay, baby. i’ve got so many of your clothes in my closet, there won’t be a problem.”
his low chuckle is comforting, and he scrunches his nose in that familiar way, shuffling closer to nuzzle into your shoulder. for a moment, the world outside fades. you’re hopeful as you think you can feel the weight on his heart lifting.
looking up, a teasing smile spreads across his face, “i wonder why.”
his playful shift surprises you, though you try not to show it. you want him to feel normal, like there’s nothing you should keep being sad over. your brows raise ever so slightly before you roll your eyes in mock exasperation, the fond amusement clear on your features.
it’s enough for jeongguk’s giggles to fill the car, an arm snaking around your waist, “it’s because you always steal my clothes.”
feigning shock, you gasp dramatically, swatting him lightly. he only laughs more, soft sounds bubbling up again, and you can feel love rushing through you, swarming frantically in your chest.
you play along with him, “no, it’s because you always leave your stuff behind after we— we…”
you trip on your words and pause when you realize what nearly slipped out, sheepishly averting your gaze to glance at the chauffeur, who seemingly looks too focused on the road to hear what you’re saying.
jeongguk’s eyes light up, his smile widening as his fingers teasingly pinch your sides, “after we what? say it, baby.”
you flinch at his ticklish touch, breaking into a grin and stubbornly shaking your head no. his laughter mingles with yours, bodies pressing tighter as he leans his weight into you, his nose brushing your jaw.
being this close to him, you inhale his scent. he still smells like adrenaline, mixed with exhaustion, sweat pearling his back. the feeling grounds you.
he hums lowly against your skin, his lips trailing wet pecks along your throat, “i miss doing that.”
your chuckle turns into a frenzied groan, and you steady yourself with your hands on his arm still squeezing around you, feeling your face heat up, “that was three days ago.”
”too long,” he mumbles, kisses slowly becoming more languid, savoring you.
when he pulls away from your neck, he doesn’t give you a moment to breathe before his lips find yours. the kiss is simple, sweet, but you can feel each beat of his pulse against your mouth.
you break the contact first, your hand slipping into his damp hair, gently brushing the long strands out of his eyes. you think out loud, admiring his perfectly framed face, “you need to cut these.”
but jeongguk isn’t currently interested in haircuts. he ignores your suggestion, his focus entirely on you, and his whispered words hold a kind of raw vulnerability, “i missed you.”
you hum, threading through his locks, “missed you too, my boy.”
that’s all he needs to close the gap between you again. this time, his kiss is more intent, deeper, as if trying to communicate what words can’t. his hands pull you closer, your chest arching into him, and in between the wet sounds of your lips meeting he lets a moan escape him.
you’re quick to swallow it, your own quiet noises vibrating against him before you put distance once again, softly tugging at his hair and finding his eyes lovingly, “let’s get home first, yeah?”
but he protests, a childlike groan reverberating in his throat, eyelids fluttering shut as he basks in the feeling of you against his lips. he attacks your cheeks next, trailing down, and down, and down, kissing you through your shirt.
then, it’s his fingers touching you under it, hand traveling up and kneading your breasts through your bra, only to slide around to trace the curve of your spine.
the sudden contact is overwhelmingly pleasuring, head thrown back on the headrest as quiet whimpers leave you. jeongguk is as hungry as ever, seeking for proximity no matter your bodies already molding with one another, his teeth scraping against your most sensitive spots, almost digging, eating, tasting.
and you want to let go, allow him to give you every last thing he’s holding onto, be selfish and take it all for yourself.
but you can’t when you know this is just another one of his escapes. he’s using this moment to drown out the chaos in his mind, to run from his pain, to bury his burdens and get high on a dopamine rush.
“baby, wait—“ in between gasps, you manage to get your voice out, but its whisper doesn’t seem to reach jeongguk’s ears, his long digits boring holes in the flesh of your bare thighs, prickling with goosebumps at his feverish touch.
in your own daze, you carefully take a hold of his face in your palms, lifting him up from the devoting motion of his lips on the edge of your shoulder, and the look in his eyes is hazed, inhebriated on the the burning of your skin under him, but it’s tinged with desperation.
behind his orbs there’s no other thought but to chase you, his only refuge, and your sweet smile only aggravates his crazed desire, trying to catch your mouth with his before you open it to speak, “i don’t want us to do this while you— you’re still mentally fragile.”
your worry is laced with love, it’s clear from the way it spills out of you, seeps from your delicate touch on his cheeks. but jeongguk’s eyes still widen in shock and shame, orbs shaking with panic.
his brows furrow in an attempt to conceal his turbulent emotions, but the city lights continuously flashing through the car windows only accentuate the glistening under his eyelids. he stammers, “i— i’m not— i’m… please. don’t reject me.”
the plea is shaky, and it makes your pulse race with agitation, fingers grasping his jaw with more intent as you’re quicker on your words than your own thoughts, “oh, honey, i’m not. look at me, please,” the way he flickers his gaze down only makes more panic flood in your veins, and you frantically search for him.
you manage to sound stable, whispered words fanning over his lips, “i just want what’s best for you, okay? do you trust me?”
he seems to lean into your touch, looking up at you through his lashes, brows still betraying him with the way they’re drawn up in sorrow. he hums in agreement.
you smile reassuringly, “perfect. then, i’ll tell you what we’re gonna do, hm?” when he nods, you continue, brushing his hair back through your calm words, “we get to my flat. take a hot shower. i make us something warm to eat. and then, if you still want to, i’m all yours. in our bed. sound good?”
our bed. the flicker in your boyfriend’s face doesn’t go missed. it’s fond, it softens his eyes, and it rushes down to his lips, struggling not to break into a grin. he pouts to hide it, and you can see he’s still ashamed by his earlier rush, his response muffled, “okay. i love you. i’m sorry.”
you coo, pulling his head to rest on your chest, drawing comforting strokes along his damp back, “i love you more. you did nothing wrong, baby.”
the both of you stay like that for a while. his cheek is squished against your breasts, lips parting to release quiet huffs, and your soothing motions run down his arm.
the quiet moment is interrupted by jeongguk’s phone ringing once again, loud and persisent, for the nth time in less than half a hour. he doesn’t even glance at the device when declining the call, and you catch the name flashing before the screen goes black.
it’s his coach calling. you stay quiet as he shuts off his phone completely, tossing it onto the empty seat next to him.
only a few moments pass before he looks up at you, his expression hesitant, a timid smile trying to mask the uncertainty in his eyes. you return his gaze with quiet confidence, nodding subtly, letting him know that you’re here with him— no matter what.
right now, all that matters is that jeongguk feels safe in your arms. you don’t care about the consequences he might face tomorrow. you’ll be there for him, just as you are now, when he needs you the most.
the moment you both step in your apartment, shoes messily discarded at the entrance (you’ll make sure to take care of his boots later), he trails after you like a lost puppy. he becomes your shadow, mirroring your every step with big eyes and a natural pout.
“take your uniform off, baby,” you gently instruct him while letting the water run from the shower head, adjusting the temperature until it’s hot enough for the both of you.
he slumps over on the toilet lid, eyes never leaving you as you move around the bathroom. when he lets them travel down your figure, a low groan escapes him.
you look so good in your skirt, the high socks triggering a weird, primal instinct in him, stirring dark fantasies that have him wishing you’d let him take you right there on the sink.
but he knows better than to mess with the plan you set earlier in his car for the both of you to enjoy the night, so he only allows himself to play with you a little, “can you do it for me? i’m tired.”
he really does seem tired, the exhaustion visible from the way his hands tremble slightly and his eyelids drop, but the look only adds to the lazy smirk spreading on his pierced lips. he knows what he’s truly asking for.
you narrow your gaze at him only to roll your eyes when he doesn’t look like he’s going to surrender any soon, grin only widening, and you pull him up by the jersey.
he complies, brows wiggling in teasing disobedience, looking down at you from his taller stance, “woah, commanding. i like it.”
“shut up,” you only murmur as you hastily strip off his sweaty uniform, throwing it right in the laundry bin. you leave him in his high socks and boxers, smacking his round ass playfully, “take these off yourself, mister.”
he’s ready to protest, to demand your touch back on him, but you shoot him a look with your raised eyebrows, “ah-ah. c’mon, and get in the shower, i’ll bring your change.”
before he can respond, you leave the bathroom. he whines childishly, slipping off his underwear along with the uncomfortable socks, adding them to the pile in the basket under the sink. he yells over the sound of running water, “you’re coming too, right?”
“yes!” you quickly call out from the bedroom, voice raised to reach him over the distance.
you know how difficult your boyfriend can be— if he hasn’t come to drag you in yet, you’re at least hoping he’s taken off the rest of his clothes. you foolishly hope he’s already in the shower, though the chances are slim if he’s not completely sure you’ll be joining him.
that’s why you move fast, grabbing his change of clothes from the drawer where you keep all his left-behind things. in your rush, you take one of his oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers for yourself, too.
when you return to the bathroom, you’re not surprised to find jeongguk standing in the middle of it, bare and waiting for you. his eyes light up when he sees you, taking the clothes from your hold and placing them on the counter, “i was about to come and get you.”
you scoff lightly, trying to fight the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, but it’s no use. especially when he reaches out to pull you closer, fingers working at the zip of your skirt and sliding it off with ease, his own grin warm on his expression.
you gently push him toward the shower, pretending to scold him, “i can do this myself, thank you. now get in, silly.”
with a disappointed, and very adorable huff, he finally obeys, stepping under the hot steam of water. you can tell by the subtle way his shoulder relax that the heat soothes him, but the tension doesn’t completely ease from his muscles.
he tracks your movements attentively, taking in the way you strip yourself completely bare, and only when you step in the small cabin and close the sliding window door behind you he sighs in relief.
jeongguk engulfs you immediately, positioning you both directly under the cascade of water. it blurs your vision slightly, your bangs flattening on your forehead.
you push them out of the way, your hands then finding his own hair to slick it back, allowing you to see the fondness in his eyes clearly.
you look up at him through wet lashes, chin placed on his toned chest, and his own is dipped low to meet your gaze, take in the smile spreading and making your dimples show.
it grows bigger when he sheepishly scrunches his nose, the love seeping from your orbs suddenly overwhelming, and you press a gentle kiss to his adam’s apple before pulling yourself away, voice a whisper, “let me take care of you.”
jeongguk doesn’t argue, complying when you ask to hand you his shampoo. you’d originally bought it as a joke during one of your grocery runs together, picking it off the shelf with a laugh and pointing out the label— johnson’s baby shampoo, made with honey and wheat extracts, and on sale too. you’d exclaimed how it was so jeongguk, and he’d let you try it on him as soon as you got home.
the joke had stuck, and to your surprise, he ended up liking it more than you did. now, it was the only shampoo you used on him whenever he stayed at your place, a small tradition between the two of you.
as you work it into his damp hair, jeongguk’s eyelids flutter shut. he eases into your touch, body going loose as your fingers massage his scalp with the perfect amount of pressure, the kind that always seems to make him melt, the one that could immediately put him to sleep.
you wash it off and repeat the motion once more, taking your time. only when his hair is thoroughly cleaned do you reach for your vanilla body wash, moving on to carefully lather it over his skin.
tracing every line of his body, you watch the way he softens more with your touch, unconsciously swaying closer.
you’re slow, deliberate in your motions, letting your hands run over his shoulders, down his arms, across his chest. his skin is warm and slick under your palms, and every now and then he lets out a contented sigh.
the sounds get fuller when you finally reach his back. you press a little harder, working out the knots you can feel lingering there. he groans softly, his head falling forward slightly, droplets of water dripping from his hair onto your face.
“feel good?” you ask quietly, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water.
he nods, his voice low and drowsy. “yeah, feels amazing.”
his moans grow unrestrainedly louder, eyes rolling back, and you would tease him for it if the sight of him like this wasn’t having its own effect on you.
biting your lip, you press your fingers deeper into his muscles, and suddenly his hands grip your waist, tight enough to startle you.
it has your mouth opening unconsciously, brows furrowed at the sensitivity. you almost give in when his palms slip further down, resting on the curve of your ass, and for a moment you consider the temptation, but the triumphant smirk on his face immediately pulls you out of your daze. your own fingers work to move his hands to rest at your shoulders.
you manage to sound stable, but you can feel the slight shake in your voice, “hands up here, mister.”
“oh, c’mon,” he has the audacity to whine, the sound muffled by his pouty, and so inviting lips.
you almost cave at the sight of him, his eyes wide and pleading. but you know better. if you let him push the boundaries now, things won’t stop here, and the careful rhythm you’ve set will be forgotten.
it’s not just him you’re trying to hold back— it’s yourself too, especially when his gaze almost breaks through your resolve.
you shake your head, trying to gather your composure, suddenly turning off the water and sliding the shower door open.
jeongguk groans in protest at the contrasting cold air hitting his skin, but you promptly step out to reach for your bathrobe and wrap it around him.
pout stubborn on his lips, he follows you out the shower, but instead of arguing further, he surprises you by engulfing you both in the same robe, pressing his chest against your back.
his arms circle you, and he starts rubbing the spongy material of his sleeves against your body, trying to dry you both at once.
you snort, amused by his antics, “what are you doing?”
“i’m drying us.”
“this will take us forever—”
“no, see? i’m already done,” with ease, he slips out of the robe, laying it over your shoulders and tying the belt snugly around you.
then he casually walks over to grab his change of clothes, pulling the t-shirt over his head despite the fact that his hair is still dripping with water.
you roll your eyes at the sight of it soaking into the fabric and gently push him to sit on the toilet lid, “don’t move. you’re still wet, god.”
“that’s what she said,” he wiggles his brows, eyes gleaming with immature delight as he grins mischeviously.
you sigh, struggling not to laugh at his pun. instead, you wordlessly grab the hairdryer and start running it through his damp locks.
he obediently leans into you, closing his eyes and resting his head against your chest as your fingers run along his hair. the warmth from the device makes him nuzzle even closer, his posture fully relaxed between your legs.
once his hair is dry and his clothes no longer clinging to his skin, you finally shut off the hairdryer, giving his now fluffy locks a final pat.
the time it took to dry jeongguk allowed the bathrobe to work its magic on you too. you quickly slip into his boxers and one of his many stussy t-shirts you picked randomly, tying a towel around your hair.
you prepare to head out of the bathroom, but before you can his hand gently stops you, gripping your forearm, suddenly towering over you when he stands up, “where are you going?”
“to make us dinner.”
“i’ll do it. you should dry your hair, or else you’ll get a headache.”
“but—”
“no but. you already did enough, baby. i’m okay, i swear,” his voice softens, and the fond look in his eyes makes it clear he won’t let you argue further. he doesn’t even let you respond, stepping out of the room and heading to the kitchen.
a smile tugs at your lips, and you take a deep breath, the comforting scent of vanilla and honey still lingering after he leaves.
you’ve always appreciated jeongguk’s attention to detail. he knows how long it takes you to care for your thick, long hair and also remembers the countless nights you complained about your head hurting from leaving it damp. he always listens, even to the smallest things.
twenty minutes later, you’re warm and dry, stepping into the kitchen where the delicious smell of soup greets you. jeongguk is behind the stove, stirring a pot and softly whistling as he tends to another pan on the burner.
when he notices you, his eyes brighten, trailing over your legs and the way his t-shirt sits just above your thighs, revealing glimpses of his boxers. as you approach, he grins, “what’s a pretty woman like you doing here, alone?”
you’ve been with him long enough to know this is just the start of one of his playful roleplays, so of course you instantly know your line, “i have a boyfriend, actually.”
“oh, really? is he here too? can he fight?” his voice drops lower with every step you take towards him, with the last words coming out as a growl as you stand in front of him, looking up into his eyes.
you snort, “you’re so dumb.”
he stays in character, raising his eyebrows, “no, tell me. can he?”
you hum thoughtfully, pursuing your lips as you pretend to consider, your eyes wandering before settling on his again, “yes. he’ll break your nose.”
he chuckles, feigning surprise, “god, he sounds tough.”
“he is.”
with an arm snaking around your waist, he pulls you closer, his lips brushing your ear, nose tickling your lobe, and he whispers, “but i just want you so bad, young lady. don’t tell him, hm?”
his mouth is on yours next, molding together in a sickeningly sweet, lingering kiss, and you let him find your tongue with his own, your front arching against his.
with your arms wrapped around his neck, you part slightly, your eyes jumping on every corner of his face. your voice is thick with pure love, “do you feel better, big boy?”
jeongguk smiles, presses it against your forehead, “so much better, thanks to you. i love you.”
“i love you more,” you momentarily lose yourself in his expression, and you have to blink harshly to pull yourself out of the daze before you fall too deeply into your emotions and start waxing poetic, letting your heart run as wild as the love in your veins.
you move from his hold, busying yourself with setting the small table in your kitchen, grabbing the usual pink glass for yourself and the yellow one for him.
he chose them himself a long ago, said pink reminded him of the way you blushed at his every action, and the yellow symbolized a sunflower always turning toward its sun, because, “that’s how i’ve felt ever since i met you.”
as you arrange the glasses, you almost forget what you were about to ask, but the faint ring of your phone from the bedroom reminds you, “is your phone still off? coach has been calling me.”
his brows knit slightly, betraying his otherwise calm demeanor, but he doesn't meet your eyes, focusing instead on plating the soup. “can we— not talk about it? just for tonight?”
a small gasp escapes you at his quiet plea, and you rush to his side to help him, taking the plates from him and placing them gently on the table, your words hushed, “of course, baby. i was just worried you might want to hear from him. i don’t care about all of that, i only care about you.”
a sheepish smile breaks through his composure, his front teeth worrying at his lip piercing. he looks up at you, lets himself be coddled by the warmth of your gaze, and he sounds just as timid as he looks, “hm. that’s what i wanted to hear.”
you shake your head fondly at his vulnerable side, motioning for him to sit with you, “silly. come, let’s eat, and then we can get some sleep.”
even after swallowing the burning soup, jeongguk still finds a way to tease, nudging your foot under the table with a mischievous grin.
"you’re not getting any sleep tonight," he quips, his voice low with playful intent. you roll your eyes and kick him lightly, making him yelp in exaggerated shock.
it becomes a game of back and forth, his dirty jokes pushing boundaries just enough to make you question if he’s actually serious. there’s a part of you that selfishly hopes he means it, but the side of you that knows him inside and out knows better.
sex for jeongguk isn’t just a casual thing, especially after a night like this. for the two of you, intimacy is more than physical— it’s an act of devotion, a way to connect deeply when words can’t express everything.
it’s never about distraction or escape, but about grounding one another, the flicker of something real and tender at the core of it.
tucked under the covers, waiting for him after he convinced you he could handle the dishes himself — arguing that picking a movie was just as much work — you’re not surprised by what he says when he finally enters the room.
“baby… i think i’m happy with just cuddles for tonight. that okay with you?”
you break into a big grin, brimming with unspeakable feelings for the man standing at the foot of your bed, for which you spread your arms open, “of course, sweetheart. come here, you big child.”
he doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly burrowing himself against the warm sheets, intertwining his limbs with yours. he nestles his head on your chest, sighing contentedly as if he’s found the safest place, “i love you. have i said that already?”
“a million times. and i’m never sick of it.”
“say it back.”
you snort at the insistence in his tone, words muffled by the fabric of your shirt, and your fingers unconsciously play with his straight locks as you swing one of your legs around his waist, your voice a whisper above the shuffling, “i love you more.”
he tilts his head up, chin resting on the softness of your breasts, “no, you don’t.”
brushing his bangs away from his eyes, you smile fondly, “i do. believe me.”
he huffs in faux protest, narrowing his eyes. but he gives in as quickly as he tried to argue, his cheek settling back to rest just where your heart beats, its steady beat lulling him into calm along with your gentle strokes along his nape.
jeongguk doesn’t resist it, doesn’t fight your love. accepts it as the purest form of closure he can get for himself, “hm. okay. i love you.”
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook au#jungkook imagine#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook x female reader#jungkook x original character#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x oc#bts x reader#bts smut#bts imagines#bts fic#bts series#bts#📓: the grande series#📁.tgs: ordinary things
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It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)
Yeesh, this took forever. <:)
There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D
(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)
anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao
Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:
I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL
Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:
The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.
They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:
In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:
Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:
Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)
Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:
And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D
what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)
And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:
It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.
Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD
Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.
Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…
Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D
They’re also 100% a sub, obviously
Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic
The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO
Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:
Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:
Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)
Last but not least, have these shittens:
~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.
The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ
Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES
First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.
I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.
All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).
(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)
Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔
Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.
He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)
I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.
So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.
Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…
Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)
They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.
(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)
But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.
He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.
Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.
The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c
And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯
oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it
Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)
THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)
#fanart#comics#cult of the lamb#cotl#narilamb#cotl lamb#cotl narinder#cotl shitten#cotl mystic seller#cotl aym#cotl baal#aym and baal#this is why i have been especially quiet lately XD#even just the bonus stuff took several days to finish because i don't know the meaning of DOODLE anymore apparently#everything must be fully inked and colored with backgrounds I Fukken Guess#at least using medibang's sumi brush keeps me from focusing on making my lines perfect :\#and yeah i copy-pasta'd a lot of my own backgrounds don't at me bro#if you're on desktop and want to full view but don't know how: right click the image - open in new tab - zoom in as needed :)#feel free to ask questions about the AU if you want - but uh - this is basically the extent to which i've thought it through LOL#edit: oh right - aym and baal really out there assuming narinder already put the lamb's soul to rest so the body's just fodder now lmao#last edit i hope: fixed the transparent cult certified freak image 8|#nope - one more edit: there is one (1) loophole for how living mortals can be in the afterlife without dying#that loophole is currently narinder XD#'sorry universe but the god of death says i can be in here so back off with your rules and regulations'
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YOUR BEST EATER ! - JJK EDITION
summary: jjk characters i think can eat pussy the best and who i think would not. that’s really it, i’m telling yall who the munches are. enjoy some pussy eating headcanons :D !
warnings: explicit obviously, black!reader, discussing f!receiving oral, use of the title daddy (once), cursing, slight crack, slander but i’m kidding kinda
GOJO SATURO - 10/10
✧ he’s sick in the head.
✧ i hate him truly. he gives good head and he knows it.
✧ he loves making it messy, he wants your arousal all over his face
✧ he wants it on the sheets by the time he’s finished
✧ he also likes making you cum multiple times, so don’t expect mercy
✧ he gets a kick out of watching you squirm and writhe under his touch
✧ and not only is his tongue magical, but he knows all the methods to make you scream for him
✧ he uses fingers and all that
✧ he’s definitely made you squirt from head
✧ the type of head he gives will have you soaked before he even fucks you
✧ yk the song that’s like ‘i’m the type of guy that’s gon eat it ‘fore i put it in?”
✧ yeah, that’s gojo
“one more, princess? hm?”
“yesss- please ‘toru!”
“good girl.. want you to make a mess all over my tongue”
GETO SUGURU - 9/10
✧ he’s a good contender for sure
✧ he’ll act like he doesn’t want to at first but it’s all a facade
✧ he can’t let you know he’s a fiend too early of course
✧ but when he finally does, boy are you surprised
✧ toe curling. jaw dropping.
✧ he’ll have you creaming on his fingers while he sucks on your clit like a madman
✧ it hurts so good and you never want him to stop
✧ and he licks your clit so attentively, he looks at each facial expression you make
✧ he draws perfect circles with his tongue
✧ it’s definitely not his strong suit (but shit that’s saying something)
✧ i’ll give him his flowers though for sure
✧ he gives the type of head that has you aching for him to put his dick inside you already
“taste so fuckin’ good. love this pussy, baby- ‘s all mine.”
TOJI FUSHIGURO - 8/10
✧ he’s one of those guys who swears up and down he doesn’t eat pussy
✧ he does.
✧ first time he went between your thighs, you thought you saw god
✧ whenever your hips lift up and you start squirming from all the pleasure, he presses them back into the mattress
✧ and he edges you while giving you head
✧ he’ll have you screaming then stop just to hear you beg for him to let you cum
✧ he’s still a sadist at the end of the day, he can’t let you have too much fun
✧ either that, or he overstimulated you until there’s literal tears streaming down your cheeks
✧ he loves making you cry from head
✧ if he’s not having you gag on his dick as he throat fucks you, this is his other way to see tears stain your pretty face
✧ whenever you squirt from him giving you head, he feels very satisfied with himself
✧ he can never give head for too long tho because the sight of you dripping pussy right in front of his eyes makes him so hard it hurts
“stay fuckin’ still brat. let me taste this pussy.”
SUKUNA RYOMEN - 2/10
✧ he doesn’t eat pussy.
✧ yeah, sorry.
✧ he’s a literal demon idk what else was expected
✧ in all seriousness, he’s not too fond of giving head
✧ but, he does enjoy fingering you though
✧ his fingers are often plunged into your hole while make out sessions and it’s his go-to for foreplay
✧ he’ll have you on his lap and play with your cunt until you’re crying
✧ and if you have toys, he loves overstimulating you with him
✧ this is often how he punishes you (sometimes he just feels like it, though)
✧ but long story short, this man will NOT be your best eater
“ry- fuck! daddy please- can’t take it!”
“nuh uh, this is what you wanted doll. let me take care of ya.”
NANAMI KENTO - 10/10
✧ if gojo’s not your best eater, nanami’s definitely your best eater
✧ he’s got every tongue and finger combo down packed
✧ he gets down. he do NOT play.
✧ he’s definitely a pleasure dom at heart so he believes you deserve good head from him
✧ and he also doesn’t talk at all while giving you head
✧ it’s almost amazing how focused he gets
✧ his form of communication is looking up at your fucked out face, filling his ego
✧ he likes eating you at after he fucks you
✧ that way he can fuck his cum back into you with his tongue and taste your arousal at the same time
✧ it’s also a way to overstimulate you that he can be slick with
✧ whenever you’re in missionary, he always has your legs bent to your ears so he can pull out and lap at your pussy whenever he wants to
✧ it’s a rush getting fucked into oblivion then getting your soul snatched as he slurps up all your juices
✧ he also enjoys how wet he makes you, so you taste so good when he does
✧ he spits on it. that’s all i have to say.
“k-kento.. so good..”
CHOSO KAMO - 11/10
✧ OHHHH LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING
✧ you thought i wouldn’t put him above gojo and nanami? you’re wrong.
✧ this man is a munch. he’s a fiend. it’s pathetic.
✧ he’ll eat pussy on his knees, matter of fact he loves it
✧ he loves when you trap your legs around like yes please don’t let him breathe he might nut right then and there
✧ he whimpers while eating you out.
✧ he won’t say it, but he likes spelling out words in your clit
✧ he mostly just spells his name
✧ and he loves how you taste, so he can eat you out forever
✧ you have to tap out for him to stop because he really has no self control when it comes to eating you out
✧ and please, sit on his face.
✧ and actually sit on it. this man doesn’t wanna be able to breathe
✧ he’ll leaves fingerprint marked bruises on your ass cheeks from gripping them as he works his tongue from under you
✧ him eating you out always has you squirting before he even fucked you yet
✧ he also enjoys tasting the mix of yours and his cum after he fucks you
✧ choso gives head so good you wanna have his kids
“babyyy- ‘m c-cumming!”
“f-fuck, taste so good baby. need you so bad.”
@ rumisgf
#jjk x black reader#jjk x black y/n#jjk nanami#jjk getou#jjk smut#gojo satoru#gojo x black reader#saturo gojo x reader#choso kamo#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x black!reader#geto x black reader#nanami smut#nanami x black!reader#toji x black reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro#toji fushigro x reader
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holiday (3tan special) | myg
title: holiday pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) | broken (pt. 2) | lollipop rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au, holiday au summary: from what you can gather, holiday gift exchanges are supposed to be pretty straightforward. but this one quickly escalates. because no one can follow directions. note: this is all thanks to the person that suggested a 3tan crew secret santa! they don’t do actual secret santa, but they do host a gift exchange. so enjoy this speedily but still tenderly written holiday special! i wanted to get it posted asap so that we could all have it during the holiday season. hope it helps lifting spirits in any way<3 warnings: yoongi looks like sin, but reader does too🤭, kissing, no one follows directions, but especially jimin, hella kissing, no fr jimin is chaos incarnate, sibling holiday woes, tense situations, tender moments, gift exchanges, dialogue heavy i’m so sorry, also not too edited i'm sorry again sdfkljdskl. reader is adorable y'all i wanna cry, 3tan crew being wholesome af drop date: december 27th, 2024, 8:37pm est word count: 8.1k bc i love y’all???
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“Wait… I’m in this, too?”
Your brother winces while checking his phone, probably also seeing the texts that Jimin sent to a freshly created group chat. “Tae and Chim roped us in this time. But it’s cool if you don’t wanna.”
As you both don work attire in your foyer, you shake your head, one hand firm on your bag strap, “I don’t even know how they work.”
“I think we random draw names. Then just give a gift to whoever we get.”
Seeing the names and numbers in here, you’re already running through a lot of possibilities. Maybe too many possibilities. But you don’t wanna make things more complicated or awkward, so you quickly concede, “I mean.. I’m down if you are.”
“I guess it’s cool.”
Head lowered, you notice that your brother’s shoes are the ones you gave him for his birthday a couple years ago. Because those days are the only ones you both celebrate every passing run of three hundred and sixty-five. “At least we’re doing something this year.”
He chuckles to his feet. “Two years in a row.”
Your sad laugh tumbles and rolls next to his. “Wild.”
“Hey.” When he pauses, it’s to wait for you to look up. “If you ever wanna talk about it, we can.”
There are a lot of times in which you dismiss your brother. Because it’s just what siblings do.
This time is not one of them.
“Same,” you offer, the weight of the world dragging your smile down.
He gives you a hug, and you feel the luxury press of his suit as you lean in with scrunched brows.
Two years in a row.
Maybe things do suck less with time.
When you both head out the door to your cars, you wonder if your brother knows how much you appreciate him and his friends for including you in things. Even if you don’t show it as much as you need to.
Guess this time of year is a good place to start.
Work drags in the wake of oncoming holiday.
But you’re learning to appreciate the decorations around the office, including the little cards that coworkers have given you at your desk—despite your many protests that they didn’t have to.
When you look up, you start to notice other things. Like the way people smile just a little more. Or the way peppermint and cider waft around the building, smelling of sweet instead of spice.
You wonder if Jungkook has decorated the studio, too. Or if he recruited everyone else to help with decorations, which means that Yoongi and the guys had to fuss with lights and whatever else people spend money on.
Laughing to your many stacks of papers and documents, you start daydreaming of what it would be like to decorate the house.
Would you and your brother do it someday? You do admit that it’s kinda nice to look around the neighborhood. And when you went into the mountains last year, you concede that the surrounding town decor was pretty inviting.
Maybe your house would be a little brighter on the inside too if you both just…
You get a notification on your phone. When the screen brightens, you see that it’s for the app that shuffles you all for the gift exchange.
You have no fucking clue what you’re doing.
But here goes.
Opening and hoping you get someone that’s easy to please, you stare at your device and blink a few very hard times.
And after every time, you still get a name that has your heart quickening faster than reindeer working overtime. It’s reindeer, right? You think that’s cor—
“You okay?”
Snapping your head up, you notice that one of your coworkers stopped mid-stride to check on you. Staring at his candy cane tie, you try not to be distracted as you slightly cringe,
“What do I get a guy for the holidays?”
“Friend or lover?”
Well, that was not what you expected to hear!
When your jaw unhinges, you’re quick to snap it back into place. “Umm.”
“Oh, this is juicy,” he perks up, quickly settling into a nearby chair and resting a strong chin in his hand. “Tell me more, I got time.”
Laughing, you shake your head while pretending to type on your computer. “Nothing to tell.”
“That means you got a whole lot.” His eyes are way too shiny right now! “But alright, I’m gonna assume both. In which case, I suggest something nice.”
“Something nice?”
“You know, like. Nice nice.”
“It’s for a gift exchange, though,” you slump, hands stopping on the keys. Looking at his whole holiday ensemble, you divulge, “The money limit’s definitely not enough for nice nice.”
“Then fuck the limit?”
Your answer is more of a sound than a word.
But he does get you to consider, even if just for a little bit. “Maybe…”
“Fuck the limit,” he advises again. “He’s gonna dig that. Especially since everyone will see it.”
Your face falls from the snowy sky. “Everyone?”
“Uhh, yeah? You said gift exchange, right? Everyone sees what everyone gets.”
“Oh. Right,” you pretend to agree to your computer. Because no, you actually didn’t know that. “Guess it’s been awhile.”
“Well, that’s what makes it fun! Good luck.”
While you would normally agree, you have a whole hoard of conflicting feelings. Because while seeing Yoongi’s name on your screen is enough to get you giddy as hell, you know there’s a couple people that may not share the same sentiments. Especially if you gift him something nice nice.
In front of everybody.
However…
As your striped and jingling coworker strides away with a hum, you drum your fingers on your minimally decorated desk.
Maybe there is a way you can finess this.
After a few weeks, the day has come for not just one exchange, but two—your friends also decided to have your own. Because it’s the easiest format, you convinced them with logic, seeing their shock at you being the one to suggest the exchange in the first place.
When they asked if you were sure, you assured them that it was okay. And the way they all brightened told you that you made a sound decision. Even if they still seemed hesitant, you know it’s because…
You’ve never done this.
So as you observe everyone in your bare living room, you start to see how their presence alone illuminates the space, with gifts in shine and glitter painting the area in holiday colors.
This is nice.
“So… Uhh.” You clear your throat, watching everyone look at you at the head of your coffee table. “How do we do this?”
They all laugh before Taehyung explains, “So one of us goes first and says who we got before giving the gift—you can sit, you know.”
In the midst of more teasing, you settle onto the floor while exclaiming, “I’m nervous, okay! This is really new to me.”
“You have a gift to give, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Then you’re already doing great,” Reia assures, and you’re even more excited to give yours away. Because you drew her name.
But before you can say that, Taehyung continues, “So after someone gets their gift, they announce who they picked, and so on.”
“Pretty straightforward,” you observe. “I wanna go first!”
Dom cackles, “You just wanna get it out of the way.”
“And?” you question, grinning when you shoot up and grab your very amateurishly wrapped bag. “Okay, okay, I got…”
“This is adorable,” Yuri cuts in, and everyone’s agreement makes you suddenly shy.
“No! Don’t make fun.”
“We aren’t!” Taehyung reaches out to rub your leg. “Promise. Who’d you get?”
“I got… Reia!” You exclaim, raising your bag a bit as she yells with everyone. The sudden raise of noise gets you a little shocked, but hyped nonetheless. And maybe a bit nervous that your gift won’t live up to the excitement. “Sorry about the wrapping job.”
“What are you talking about, this is so good,” Reia soothes, smiling wide as she delicately takes out the folded paper. “Wow, the wrapping is nice?”
Dom chimes in as she leans in, “Yeah, this is too good. Did you watch videos?”
“Uh huh.”
Everyone laughs again as you keep your nose held high. Because sucky or not, you were not gonna half-ass your first ever gift exchange. With seasoned people, at that. No way.
When Reia opens the gift you carefully picked while perusing through a local music store, you watch with the anticipation of a small child, eyes wide and waiting. Hoping that the best outcome is the real outcome.
And when she quietly yells behind her hand, everyone cheers while asking what she got. When she turns the package around, they cheer even more, because it’s a guitar pick set in her favorite colors. And one that you knew was so, very much her.
She stands up immediately and opens her arms for a hug, and you blink before getting lovingly crushed.
“Thank you,” she whispers in your ear. “This is more than great.”
“Of course, babe,” you murmur back, feeling her jean jacket under your palms and a beating in your chest. “Thank you, too.”
The rest of the exchange goes off without a hitch, with you cheering with everyone and understanding the cues more and more. Everyone’s gifts are wonderful, and Yuri’s the last to go out of the five of you.
And she got your name.
You figured giving the gift would be the hardest part.
But somehow, this part is a lot harder.
Braving it anyway—because there’s ironically no time like the present—you carefully unwrap the thin package and stare at what’s inside.
It’s a photocard. But the picture is of the five of you, one that Taehyung took with his long ass arms while the four of you huddled behind him with drinks in hand. Around its edges are stickers, hearts and stars and cute little animals.
And it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen.
You don’t even realize you’re crying until Yuri rushes over to ask if you don’t like it.
“This is the best thing ever,” you choke out, and she smiles before laughing and tearing up, too. “I love us.”
“We’re the best, duh.”
“Got that right,” Dom adds to the air while Reia and Taehyung start cleaning up the wrapping scraps. “You like your first gift exchange?”
“I should’ve joined y’all sooner.”
“Joined us?” Taehyung looks up from the ground. “What do you mean?”
“Oh. I figured you guys do this every year.”
Tae looks at Yuri, who then looks at you again before very seriously admitting, “We’ve never done this, either. Not with each other.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” She taps the back of your now most precious, most coveted photocard ever. “We didn’t even think about it since you wouldn’t be there.”
Smiling at your prized possession, you vow,
“I’ll be here now.”
Regarding all of them, you start to decorate your place in your mind. Seeing where all the lights go. Where all the little trinkets hang, or whatever. You don’t quite know how this goes just yet, but you do know there’s trees involved. So that’s gonna be figured out in a year’s time.
“I’m not missing this again.”
With bellies full of laughter and a little bit of cider, you and your friends head over to Jimin’s cul-de-sac.
Dom took the wheel this time, so you get to stare out the passenger side window, eyes reflecting golds and colors as you take in the surrounding lights.
Were they always this pretty? You don’t remember being so taken by electricity and staggering electric bills, especially the houses that go all out and cover every nook of their yard in lights.
But it’s a spectacle on every corner and street, and Jimin’s little half circle of houses keeps the holiday illumination alive.
“Uhh, I think we can park down there,” you point, noticing there’s some space a little bit beyond the street. It’s alarmingly next to where Yoongi had to park once, and you cherish that memory with stars in your eyes.
“Everyone have their gifts?”
“Tae, if anyone lost theirs on the way here, we have other issues.”
It’s a quick walk to Jimin’s, and the music around the house gets louder as you approach his entrance. There are people already set up in his open garage playing what you assume are card games, and everyone greets your group as you pop in to say hi.
“Hey!” Namjoon calls. “Y’all are late! Everyone’s inside.”
“We had our own party first,” you call out, struggling with your gift bags and food tray. “Can someone—”
Before you finish your ask, you smell nice cologne and feel a big presence at your side.
When you look to see who’s assisting, you slow in your motions before uttering a small,
“Thank you.”
Jungkook slightly smiles as he grabs your last bag. “Your perfume’s nice,” he compliments behind tousled bangs. Which makes you blink because that comment is more than hard to come by from him.
So you can only grin. “Just got it,” you explain as you follow your friends inside the house. “It’s a dupe, can you believe it?”
“Damn! It’s a good one.”
“I know,” you agree, very proud of your find. Taking the gift bags from his hands, you tilt your head. “Can you bring the tray to the kitchen?”
“On it.”
When you make your way to your friends at the front area, they all eye you with concern. But you wave it off and shrug off your coat to hang on the loan coat hanger—earning teasing and whistles.
“Shut up,” you groan, laughing with everyone before straightening the reason for the noises. It’s a dress you’ve been eyeing specifically for holiday parties. Because as soon as you started to shop for your gift exchanges, that quickly spiraled into shopping for outfits to wear to them. Did your coworker spook you into looking good because it was a public event? Maybe. Absolutely.
So you shopped around before finding a dress that even you knew you looked good in. And the past couple weeks were the longest stretches ever because of your anticipation to wear it again.
As you and your newest fit walk into the kitchen, you start to greet everyone, giving them hugs and smiling bright at their compliments. Because you feel good. You feel nice. Maybe you’re just drinking the holiday cheer and letting it consume you but you don’t care because it’s fun this time. This isn’t like any other year, and it’s wonderful.
But then.
Even the most wonderful moments have to come to a halt.
And yours crash when you see Yoongi.
Leaned back on one of the kitchen counters, his body appears relaxed in another damn black button-up, telltale silver chain hanging from a neck you wanna devour in front of the whole house.
He was already annoying last year. But this time, his hair’s longer, and made up with just the right amount of disarray and a little bit even tucked behind his ear.
Fuck, this is so much worse!
If he wasn’t so attractive and magnetizing, you’d have way less than ninety-nine problems. It would be a lot closer to zero.
But you make your way over to him anyway, because of course you would. Of course he knew you would, too.
“Hi,” you greet him, hands tingling with the desire to cup his beautiful chin and yank him in for a kiss.
But he greets you back while giving you a hug, not without giving you a very obvious once-over.
“Beautiful,” he whispers in your ear before pulling away, which can only make you babble out,
“What?”
He grins wide. “You look nice.”
Oh. Oh, he really did say that. Why are you surprised? Why are you always surprised? But you have to stay poised so you stick with a neutral,
“So do you.”
“Thanks,” he says with a sly curve, still leaning back on the counter with a drink in hand. “Say something else.”
“Goodbye forever,” is what you go with, back heating with his staccato laughs following your speedy retreat.
No, no, no. He cannot notice how excited you are to give him his gift. Your bubbling excitement needs to be projected elsewhere. Because you know you picked perfect. It’s something you know he’d appreciate.
But he cannot have his ego inflated anymore or else the house would float to the sky.
But fucking hell, he looks damn good and he knows it.
After an hour or so of socializing and keeping to your little friend circle, Jimin gets everyone together in the big living room to do the exchange.
“Okay! One, two… Okay, we’re all here, so. Who’s gonna start?”
When someone calls his name, the man grins and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m host.”
“So shouldn’t you be the one to start?”
“My house, my rules!” Jimin argues with zest, pointing to the guy that dared to challenge him, “So you go first.”
And that man just so happens to secretly be yours.
Shouts erupt around the living room, and you can mostly hear Hoseok and Seokjin since they’re closest,
“Go, Yoong!”
“Ah, Yoongi’s first for a change.”
Secretly and not so secretly, you’re hoping and wishing that he pulled your name. But the odds of that would be pretty slim if you pulled him, even though it was an even chance across the board.
But as he gets up from the arm of Jimin’s couch holding a small gift bag, you determine that maybe it’s best if he didn’t pull your name. Because you already had trouble opening Yuri’s gift. How the hell would you control yourself opening his?
“K, uhh. I got…”
Wait, he’s looking towards you from across the room.
Shit. Is it happening?
You?
“Taehyung.”
A pang of disappointment and relief shoots through your veins, even when you shout with everyone while watching Tae smile from his place right next to you.
Yoongi walks right up to your seats, which are really some extra fold-out chairs by Jimin’s decorated tree. And he smells so good. Why do you have to be close to him again?
But this moment is about Taehyung, so you watch as he opens the gift. When there’s a small box inside the bag, he opens that to reveal a nice, slim… wallet?
Wait, is that leather?
Your mouth drops as everyone’s up and raising questions already, and you can clearly hear Jungkook and your brother protest the highest,
“Wait, huh?”
“We set a limit for a reason!”
Yoongi’s hands stay in his pockets when he refutes, “It was on sale.”
“Nah, he’s lying!”
Taehyung doesn’t know what to say, so when he looks at you, it takes all your strength to encourage him neutrally,
“It’s so you! Deserved.”
Yoongi looks at you before asking your friend, “Is it okay?”
“It’s perfect,��� Taehyung says, full of gratefulness. “I’m just shocked.”
Jimin and Shiv chuckle from one of the couches,
“Oh? He’s never shocked.”
“This is new.”
Yoongi smiles as Tae gets up to hug him, and you’re immediately okay not being the one receiving anything right now.
Because you don’t need anything from him.
All you want is his happiness.
Once the initial gift is given, everyone goes down the line. And you’re feeling a little lighter after knowing who Yoongi got. Also, you feel less and less awkward about your gift, since the chaos of Yoongi’s was only the beginning.
Because when Taehyung gifts your brother a chain, everyone’s up and yelling again while your sibling is shocked to hell.
On one end of the living room, Namjoon shakes his grinning head while Jungkook throws his back,
“Alright, there needs to be a penalty for the most expensive gift.”
“We obviously didn’t give a shit about the limit.”
Everyone’s laughter fills the house, even drowning out the faint holiday music floating from the surround speakers.
Immediately clipping on his necklace, your brother shouts, “Am I the only one that stuck to what we agreed on?”
“Sucks for who got yours then.”
Everyone starts laughing or reprimanding Yoongi for saying that—you with a cackle included.
But then your brother busts out a fucking watch for Shiv and everyone goes bananas.
At this point, Taehyung’s fully laughing behind his fingers on his forehead, and Jimin collapses on a gawking Yoongi when Shiv quite literally jumps up.
“What the hell? Dude, I can’t take this.”
“Yes, you can! And you will.”
Fingers are pointing in every direction while people are calling each other liars, and your brother laughs on like a gremlin.
But it’s all so adorable that your heart is squeezing. Shiv’s damn near tearing up. “I’ve been eyeing this one for forever.”
“I know! You wouldn’t stop running your damn mouth about that thing.” Your older sibling claps him on the shoulder. “You can shut up now,” he says with a grin, and Shiv gives him a big hug.
“Thanks, man.”
“Don’t sweat it.”
Shiv’s turn. And everyone is waiting for what he decided to gift.
Turns out he keeps the shenanigans going by gifting Jungkook a luxury tie set.
The blond’s jaw drops as he stares hard at the package. Looking up quick, he has to ask for sure, “A set, dude?”
“It was on sale!”
“Again?”
“Are we all gonna say the same lie?”
Everyone can’t hide their amusement, with creased eyes and fake annoyance in every seat. Jungkook can’t believe his luck, since he’s been telling himself to get dress clothes forever but hasn’t gotten around to it.
“You gotta dress like a man now, kid,” Shiv tells him with a bright smile. “There’s a lot coming now that you’re making it.”
A light bulb softly glows when you realize that Yoongi might need to do the same. Trying not to look obvious, you peek in his direction.
As he stares at the floor, you already know he’s mulling over the same thoughts.
But it’s Jungkook’s turn now, and you still haven’t gotten a gift yet.
So you’re waiting with all the air in your lungs.
As the blond teases his pick, the studio boys are quick to handle him as Yoongi only huffs.
“I got… I got… I got, I got, I got, I got—”
“Kook, just say it.”
“Always like this.”
“Jimin!”
Your heart beats again as the host pops up from his couch, everyone cheering as Kook meets him in the center. Around you, speculation from your friends mixed with a little laughter spikes,
“He probably stuck to the limit.”
“Definitely.”
“Jimin’s gonna be the only one left with—”
Cackles and screams rip as Jimin kicks his head back in laughter, because in his hands is a sleek white box that everyone recognizes.
This man got Jimin designer shades.
Your cheeks hurt as you react with everyone, giddy and bubbly with how absolutely ridiculous this whole night has gone. Everyone accusing each other of cheating, while all the while every single gift has been over the top.
You really don’t feel bad about revealing your gift anymore. Quite honestly, you almost feel more bad about it not being enough.
No. It’s enough.
Yours is the best and you stick to that.
Jimin takes the sunglasses out of the box and protective pouch, slipping them on and modeling immediately.
Oh’s and ah’s echo before his friends inflate his ego,
“Damn, you sure you aren’t a model?”
“You’re one step away.”
“He really is.”
He looks great and he knows it. And he carefully puts them back in their packaging before giving Jungkook a hug. They exchange conversation, and you can feel the latter’s smile as he laughs before sitting down.
Suddenly, you have the strongest intuition that you’re next. On Jimin’s turn. He’s getting out a very nice bag from behind a couch and your brain is firing off.
“Okay! The best gift is going to…”
You were right. He calls your name.
Smiling, you shakily stand as Jimin approaches, a twinkling look in those features glowing in incandescent lights.
Eyes on you. Many eyes.
A little overwhelmed, you thank him before sitting down. Because it’s much easier to do this while on a solid, structured surface.
“Hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will.”
Best gift? What could Jimin possibly mean by—
Your scream shoots out as you clamp the bag shut because no fucking way you saw what you just saw in there.
Jimin’s laughing his ass off but it’s not funny.
“Jimin, what the fuck!” Now you know how Shiv felt and he is absolutely valid for his reaction. “I can’t accept this.”
People are concerned around you, and you quickly think they may have the wrong idea.
“What did he get?”
“What’s in there?”
Quelling some thoughts, you explain, “It’s a box.”
“Okay?”
You just gotta say it. They’re all gonna know as soon as you take it out anyway. So you breathe out,
“…It’s Dior.”
It’s the loudest it’s been all night, even though your friends are completely speechless. All the guys are up in arms and Jia’s scream for penalty can be heard through the chaos,
“What!”
“Where’s my Dior?”
“What the fuck?”
“Jimin…”
“Okay, that is way over limit! That’s cheating!”
“Penalty!”
Jimin’s sneaky smile as he turns around doesn’t help, “You know I get everything for less.”
“So?”
“Still, what the hell, man!”
You know Jimin works there. You do. But this is still making your limbs jelly and you can’t even speak.
There’s no way Dior is passed around at every gift exchange.
“You deserve it. For dealing with him.” He looks at your brother, but the look in his eyes is too sparkly to be completely truthful. Does he mean Yoongi? Or is he being serious?
Of course, your sibling throws out a droning, “Wow.”
After lots of shaky unboxing, you reveal a stunning bracelet, your friends bending down around you to gawk at how brilliant it is. Dancing in your fingers, this piece shimmers and gleams, and every single person is quiet.
Guilt. You feel guilt.
And you can’t even look at the reason why.
“Whatever you’re feeling, don’t. It’s okay.”
You’re tearing up because it’s way too nice. Which proves worse because you also feel bad for crying for the sole fact that Yoongi’s watching. You don’t want him to get the wrong idea.
You get up to hug him. “I… This is really nice, Jimin. Thank you.”
“Stop by the store sometime,” he offers with a smile. “Maybe I can slip more in your purse.”
“Easy,” your brother eyes him.
“So are we all getting fancy gifts or what?”
“Nope! Ran out of my discount, sorry.”
“Wow.”
When you finally glance around, everyone’s either a mix of shock and awe, visibly confused, or just jealous and wondering what the hell just happened.
Meanwhile.
Yoongi straight up looks like he’s holding his tongue.
And you suddenly feel really bad.
Hopefully giving him his gift will make up for what just happened. Even though you’re going after the hardest hitter of the damn night, this one’s special.
But who are you kidding? People are definitely gonna talk in private about Jimin’s little gift.
So now you have to try and mend this while acting like Yoongi’s just your brother’s friend. Cool. Awesome.
“So...”
Just try your goddamned best.
“Yoongi is mine.”
…Wait.
Your secret looks your way immediately while everyone snaps their heads to him.
What the fuck did you say?
Wait wait wait wait what did you fucking say?
Flapping your arms, you reach for words while everyone starts teasing, “Oh, god. I mean—I have Yoongi—I mean, wow. Hold on.”
Fucking fuck fuck, he’s grinning.
Thank the lord above for someone cheekily asking,
“First time at a gift exchange?”
You look away from the laughs while trying to compose your grin of embarrassment. Get it the fuck together, this is peak time to get it right.
“God. Okay.” You look down at your bag. All of its carefully folded and primped paper, the delicate folding inside. “For the gift exchange,” you clarify with a forced firm tone, “I got Yoongi.”
You feel Dom try her damned best to hide her laugh. And you know for damn sure Jimin and Taehyung are thoroughly amused right now.
All the oh’s sounding off in the living room are already enough to set your ears smoking. Your brother’s voice can be heard, but you know that’s for a specific reason.
Everything had to be carefully calculated, after all.
You walk up to him, and you cannot—absolutely cannot—look too long at the way he’s looking up at you. Him sitting in any capacity is enough to drive you up a wall, but now? When he looks so freshly fitted and prepping to tease you about all this later? You can barely think straight.
“I don’t think I can beat Jimin’s gift,” you sigh to his curious eyes. “But it’s a little too late to change.”
His smile turns so soft. He shouldn’t be the one comforting you right now when you probably broke a little of his heart. “It’s all good.”
Keep going.
Cleaning your clogged throat, you brave the crowd and breathe before starting again, “Anyway. This is kinda from both of us, but I picked it because I have better taste.”
“Hey, what the hell?”
Ignoring your brother’s protest, you watch as Yoongi softly opens the gift before pulling out a basketball jersey.
Of his favorite player.
“Holy shit.”
Shouts start erupting behind your back as you laugh, your sneaky gift joining the rest of them.
“Hello? That’s way too much!”
“That’s over the limit for sure.”
You wave your hands frantically among their teasing arguments, and your brother chimes in on your side. “I didn’t know what to get!”
“So you got a real jersey?”
“Relax, y’all. It’s from both of us.”
“Wait, which one’s Lillard again?”
“Damian,” Yoongi softly says in awe. “How’d you know?”
You can only blink, smiling faltering by the slightest amount.
Fuck, he’s gonna be cheeky right now? Knowing you know and exactly how you know? Cuddled up with him in his bed as he shows you highlight reels and tells you the guy’s whole story and that he happens to be a rapper, too?
Looking back towards your brother, you explain, “Well... He gave me a list. And I just picked off vibes.”
Yoongi’s eyes sparkle so much when he grins. “Good choice,” he compliments with creased eyes. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome!” You say back with a little too high of a pitch. “But tell him he still owes you a gift. This doesn’t count for him.”
“Uhh, it sure as fuck does!”
Yoongi breaks eye contact to shout behind you, “Didn’t you already tell me you got me something?”
“Yeah, it was that!”
“What a lie,” Yoongi says through a smile.
“Yeah, I did,” your brother surrenders. “The shoes are in my bag. Okay, next!”
Hilariously, two pairs of people end up getting each other. Yuri’s older sister Jia got Seokjin, who also drew her name—to the slight angst of your brother, you imagine.
And Hoseok ends up getting Namjoon. Which turns out being twice as funny because they both got each other the same pair of earphones. You can’t breathe with how hard you cackle with everyone, and your heart skips when you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s eyes across the room.
By the end of the exchange, everyone’s bellies and cheeks sting from laughter, and every eye in sight has twinkles embedded inside.
Throughout the night, everyone starts branching off into different groups. You and your friends talk in the kitchen, and both in and out of the house, there’s groups of games and conversations.
The holiday decorations everywhere shine bright. Enveloped in the music, you keep looking at the lights, feeling happy but a little bittersweet.
You really wanna set the record straight with Yoongi. You had no damn clue that Jimin was gonna give something like that, much less in front of everyone.
The fact that you haven’t been in the same room for a bit makes it worse. What could he be thinking right now? You can’t tell because he’s nowhere in sight.
Screw it. You’re gonna at least text him. There’s no way you can survive the night if you’re gonna plague your own head without checking in with him.
Fishing out your phone, you sidestep away for a second to type something quick.
You [10:38pm]: i know it’s not dior.. but hope you like your gift :’))
Yoongi [10:38pm]: You know I do. It’s perfect, doll.
Well. He texted back super quick.
Maybe he’s really okay? Maybe he and Jimin already talked it through?
Then again.. Yoongi didn’t look happy at all during the big reveal. To the point where he was actively showing emotions you rarely get to see.
But if he says he likes his gift, that’s a good sign.
You [10:42pm]: i can’t believe jimin did that
Yoongi [10:42pm]: That was bold.
You [10:42pm]: seriously!!!
Hmm. So he didn’t know. That’s even more surprising than him knowing, now that you think about it.
You’re called over to get another round of food, and you turn down the initial invite but stay around as they get more to eat.
When you see a tray that smells way too good, you do break and get a piece anyways.
“Yeah, those are amazing,” Yuri chirps. “Shiv made those.”
“Really?” Dom grabs a couple pieces. “Lemme try these then.”
“You’re gonna want more.”
As you find a place outside to eat, you stand next to the heater while conversing with Taehyung. It’s adorable how you can tell how excited he is about his gift, turning it in his hand before pocketing the leather again.
“It’s so nice,” you compliment.
“He knows how to pick, I guess,” Tae smiles, looking at you and making you shy. Because hello? There’s no way he’s gonna be bringing that up tonight.
When you silently mouth for him to shut up, he grins like a madman. Glancing down at your hands, he suddenly asks, “Are you gonna put that down?”
“No,” you say with a tiny pang of guilt. “Afraid not.”
“Mm.”
Your phone buzzes again, and you’re thankful for the interruption.
Yoongi [11:09pm]: Guess I have to do better😔
Instantly, you take that gratefulness back.
You [11:09pm]: NO!! you don’t have to worry about me at all
Yoongi [11:10pm]: I can’t lose to you
You [11:10pm]: trust me, i just…
You think about sending the other text or not. But you do anyway.
Taehyung sees the look in your faraway face, but doesn’t comment as you peer down again.
You [11:11pm]: i just wanna see you happy
That’s all you want. If he’s happy, you’re happy. So it sucks to have part of the night come as quite the shock.
Interestingly enough, though.. Someone else in the house should also be pretty upset about your gift, and you haven’t seen Jimin cornered by him yet.
Unless your brother is just deciding to be courteous and beat his ass after everyone leaves.
Yoongi [11:13pm]: Then come over here
You’re not gonna argue with that.
So when your friends finish their plates, you suggest you all head into the garage. It’s already rowdy before you open the door, so the sounds get booming loud when you all enter.
Looks like everyone is blowing their money on other things tonight, too. The gifts were the nice part of the party; now everyone is fiending to take everyone’s cash.
“Damn, Yoongi’s clearing me out.”
“Told you not to go all in.”
“He did.”
As the cold weather rolls in, you watch as the games go on, with heaters humming with energy and your brother’s friends radiating competition.
No wonder Yoongi wanted you in here.
He’s on a damn roll.
As everyone groans after another win, Namjoon and your brother are in tatters,
“Yoong, what the fuck!”
“You hiding cards in those sleeves?”
“I told you!” Yoongi boasts, “Don’t get too cocky.”
“Says him.”
“Cocky, my ass.”
When you laugh, you earn a tiny glimpse of his eyes. But as his vision falls to your hands, you’re quick to look away, out into the night to look at all the lights instead.
Shit.
After some time passes, you find yourself alone on a balcony. Yet again. Cold wind blows through your coat, chilling you but making you feel alive. Too alive in this moment. Too aware.
The holidays aren’t so bad this time around. But you do need to set this one thing straight before things go a little sideways with Yoongi.
If he’s upset, you don’t want him to be. Even if he doesn’t say it, you want him to know you’re considering his feelings. There’s some things you just can’t control.
So you wait for Jimin, telling him earlier to meet you up here for the best chance at privacy.
When you hear the door opening, you see him come through, hair lifting in the breeze and his lips in a slight curve.
Get right to it. “Jimin, I—”
“Isn’t it so nice tonight?”
Stopping, you settle into a smile, watching him walk up to stand next to you before you both look into the night. The neighborhood glows beneath your feet, and everyone in the backyard mingles while puffs of air leave their lips.
“It really is,” you say with a smile, clutching the gift bag in cold fingers. Because you haven’t let go of it ever since it was given to you—it’s way too expensive. You’ve been guarding it all night.
Which is why you need to hand it back to the one who gave it to you. “We haven’t done something like this before, so.. It’s a nice change of pace.”
Jimin turns before realizing something. “Oh. I meant the weather.”
Embarrassed, you let out a laugh while his eyes crease. “Ah. That, too.”
“Got deep real fast.”
“Jimin!”
Both of you puff out laughter as you look down, just in time to see someone gazing right up at you. Someone that makes your heart squeeze on sight.
Oh, shit. Is he gonna get the wrong idea again?
You need to do this quick. Yoongi can’t be let down more than once tonight.
Sighing, you start to hold up the bag again. “Thank you—”
“He’s lucky you came around when you did.”
“Huh?”
Jimin leans on the railing before eyeing you with a smile. “You don’t even know, do you.”
“I don’t…” When you look below, Yoongi’s not looking anymore. And you panic. “Jimin, thank you. But I seriously can’t take this.”
Why does he look so calm? Why does he keep acting like this isn’t a big deal? “You can.”
“No, really. I—”
“I may have gone too far this time.”
Your eyes still as you breathe out a confused, “...What?”
Jimin’s face is dusted with peach in the cold, and you get a good view of his jawline as he peers down below with a regretful curve. “I kinda tricked him,” he admits. “Into picking your gift for the exchange.”
The shock you feel prevents you from even blinking. How the hell can this get even more overwhelming? “What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I got some good discounts.” Jimin turns around to lean against the railing. “So I thought it would be fun to rope him into getting you something.”
When he laughs to the chilly night sky, you don’t join him—the shock is preventing you from doing anything.
“Didn’t think he’d pick a whole bracelet, though. Made for one hell of a gift exchange pick.” He looks at you at a tilt. “You like it, right?”
Even if Yoongi was the one to pick out the jewelry, Jimin still had to purchase the damn thing. And even with his discount, it’s still expensive as hell. It has to be. You haven’t let go of the bag once because you don’t want to lose it. “But you still had to pay,” you blurt out. “I’ll find a way to pay you back if you aren’t gonna take it.”
“I didn’t pay for it, either.”
Your heart stops.
Full on halts.
When he turns his head, he looks toward the sky in thought. “Well, I did secretly pay the exchange limit. But..” He straightens before staring back at your absolute silence, dropping the biggest surprise of the whole night,
“Yoongi paid the difference.”
The sudden sob that leaves your throat startles him immediately, and he rushes forward to put hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, I just—”
The sound of a door slides open, and you turn to see your favorite, favorite, favorite person walking through. You must look like a wreck but you don’t care, don’t care, don’t care.
“I’ll leave you both to it then,” Jimin says to your watery eyes before squeezing, heading out to give you both the quiet space you need.
But Yoongi clutches his arm as he walks by, and you hold your breath as he stares him in the eye, voice burning with a steady glow,
“Don’t pull that shit again.”
“I know,” Jimin agrees without pause. “I owe you one.”
“No one comes up here then.” Yoongi releases him slow. “Until I come back down.”
The host of the night shares a quick hand clutch before assuring, “You got it.”
Bag clutched tight in your hands, you watch in wonder as Yoongi approaches you with a quiet determination. His presence alone makes your heart beat warm and soft, but you cannot stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks.
All you can ask as he gets close is a wondrous, “Why..?”
“He’s a very persuasive salesman.” When you wipe your eyes, he helps with a little look of tenderness. Though there’s still some frustration evident in his features. “But I didn’t know it would be for tonight.”
“Oh, shit,” you sigh. “Why did he do that?”
“I’m not sure.” Yoongi holds your chin, rubbing your frosty cheek with a handworking thumb. “Taehyung didn’t know he’d do it, either.”
“Tae knew, too?”
“Yeah. He thought I had it, not Chim.” He sighs to the side, hair lifting slightly in the breeze. “I almost stood up when you screamed.”
Your heart shrugs off some chill. “Really?”
Yoongi nods before looking up with scrunched brows. “It took all of me to keep my ass down. Honestly, I’m still pissed the fuck off.”
You believe that. One hundred percent, you believe that. Because you’ve never seen him talk to Jimin like that before tonight.
Reaching to cradle one of his cheeks, you feel how cold he is before whispering to soothe, “Tell me how you wanted it to go.”
When Yoongi looks at you, your lips curve into a small smile. Peppered with a bit of your tears and willingness to make him feel better.
He softly grips your hand on his face before turning to kiss your fingers. Voice low, he reveals, “I was gonna take you straight to dinner. After you got off work one day.” Another set of kisses makes your fingers both hot and cold. “Then I would’ve faked needing something from the studio. And you would’ve gotten it there.”
“Oh…” You blink as your vision blurs. “That’s…”
“Among other things.”
At his suggestive look, you playfully pat his jacket. But your heart starts leaking from your eyes.
Because you just want it all to be out already. Just everything. Everything, everything, everything, you’re so tired of keeping it under wraps.
“What’s wrong, doll.”
“Nothing,” you sob. “I’m just… I didn’t know, and… This is a lot.”
You’re overflowing with emotions. From all the experiences you’ve had tonight to this very moment, everything has been wonderful and magical and there’s nothing quite like this feeling. But you’re also so embarrassed because he definitely brought out much bigger guns than you did.
Sniffling into his jacket, you whisper, “Thank you… You got me something timeless. This is so much cooler than my gift.”
“No! Yours is great, are you kidding me?”
“It’s a jersey… That’s much less cool.”
“Mm... You also called me yours.” When you freeze completely, Yoongi's shoulders bob with his pride. “Gotta say, that was the highlight of the night."
“Oh, shut up!" When you groan into his clothes, you feel him laughing through his chest. And it's one of your favorite feelings in the world.
Shoulders slumped, you heavily yearn,
“I want it all out now. Everything.” You squeeze him closer. Closer, closer, closer. “I want everyone to know it was from you.”
Yoongi doesn’t say anything, though you do feel his heart beat a little faster. When he finally answers, you close your eyes. “I know I said this last time, but.. Next year. For sure.”
“Can we decorate, too?”
Yoongi looks into your starry eyes. “You wanna?” When your nod is quick, he laughs. “Guess I don’t have a real choice then, huh?”
“Nu uh.” You squeal as he hauls you into a full kiss, squeezing you in his arms and more tears out of your eyes. “Wait!”
When he tilts his head, you grin at his adorable quirk. “Let’s do it anyway.”
“Huh?”
Holding up the bag, you cheekily suggest, “Everything you said. Let’s do it.” Biting your lip and feeling the chill on your ears, you finish, “There’s a new place I wanna try with you anyways.”
Yoongi just stares, smile unsure but huffing amusement from his nose. “You sure?”
“Duh! And I’ll act even more surprised, just for you.”
Your giggling is purely born from excitement. Because you can’t wait to take him somewhere you know he’ll enjoy, too. And you get to see the studio? It’s gonna be a fantastic—
You’re brought into a tight hug before your thoughts finish. The bag between you crumples a tad, but you’re more focused on the way your head is moved for a soul-tying kiss.
Warmth and gold and sparkles burst from your chest as you’re completely taken by Yoongi’s lips, and you start to feel your house inside change. It’s festive. It’s decorated. It’s made just for you and him.
You've never been one for this season. But getting to spend it with Yoongi two years in a row? It's becoming one of your favorite times of the year.
“I just…” he murmurs to your features before gripping you close. “Thanks, babe.”
“Thank you,” you whisper into his handsome features. “Once you give it to me for real, I’m gonna wear it everywhere.”
“Please do. Get my money’s worth.”
When you both laugh, your affection leaves in puffs of white. And you give him a more tender kiss than the first.
You feel so at home it hurts. But it hurts because your heart is so full you can’t fit it all. All the love for everyone that fills that hole in your life that you and your brother have had for years.
You’re gonna tell him one day. And it’s gonna rip you apart.
But you hope everything will be okay. This time next year, all of you will be okay. More than okay.
When you lean in close, you whisper something you’ve never really said to anyone. But you’re gonna try to start, even if you aren’t quite familiar with it yet. It’s a good year to start, start, start.
“Happy holidays, Yoongi.”
His lips spread slow before giving one more kiss to your chilly nose. And every anxious feeling floats away in the frosty breeze.
“Happy holidays, doll.”
-
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fin. :)
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so... how did it go! | join the server! | join the taglist!
a/n: happy holidays, merry christmas, happy new year to everyone that celebrates! just wanted to get this one out for the ones needing a little bit of cheer around this time. we learn quite a bit about some of the crew's backstories and where they work now, huh. is this a pocket universe, too? who really knows! but it all flew out of my fingers as soon as we got the suggestion, so thank you again to that anon message! a/n 2: thank you to everyone that's stuck with me and 3tan this year. it's been a rough one, but i also wanted to post this one to let you all know i'm still here. 3tan will forever stay with me, and i have not ever forgotten it. not one day goes by where i don't think about it, or y'all, or them. trust me. also, stay on the lookout for some physical copy interest checks! we are getting closer and closer to 3tan copies being A Real Thing! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
#hehehehe surprise and happy holidays!#bts fic#bts fanfic#yoongi fic#3tanholiday#yoongi fluff#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#ryenwrites#*ryenfictalk#*latest#bts imagines#bts reactions
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@forgettable-au FAN ANIMATION ! LOUD NOISE WARNING!
*What was it all for…?
Song: Vishnu <3 by Peter Cat Recording Co.
…okay.
The main inspiration for this…can be summed up with I LOVE HOW SAD THIS CONCEPT IS. BUT i also adore how WEIRD it is.
This whole thing must be pretty weird and creepy for the characters right??? Like- we dont know for certain what EXACTLY is gonna happen, but we know for a fact that Wingdings finds out hes in a game, then kills himself so he can be closer with god-
THATS PRETTY WEIRD 😭😭 also sad but we can ignore that for now
I also experimented a tad with this in working with silence, so timing things at my own pace! It was really hard! I HAD SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!
But, time for my FAVORITE PART….ANALYSIS!!!
DISCLAIMER: some things stated as fact haven’t been said in the blog/arent canon to the au itself, just my animation/theories/interpretation, cause i’m silly and headcanoning :3
TITLE:
The proper title ive given this is “To You” which means 2 different and very vague things. What happened to you? and sending a message like “this is To You”.
In that case, “you” is whichever version of Papyrus/Wingdings/Gaster you want- Its not exactly clear which version of him means “you” which is kinda the point. The lines blur together sometimes…
But yeah, Gaster/crazy WD sends messages TOO himself so they’re “To You”
CONTEXT
Wingdings has JUST turned himself into Gaster. Ignore how impossible Sans interacting with him in this moment is, and just hear me out on the angst possibilities-
SCENE 1
As Sans approaches the mess- Gaster is encased in shadow, and looks at him. Expression not telling much- just looking blankly. Doesn’t even look like he’s alive… just… moving. Also the eye thats open, is just a slit. because- perspective. BUT I also had fun putting that there and going hehehehe it looks like WD/Papyrus’ eye
Sans approaches, and getting engulfed in the shadow, leaving the light.
His expression here was REALLY fun and REALLY hard to draw. Angry? maybe. stunned and terrified? DEFINITELY.
In this context (that doesn’t have a lot to go off of with the comics, YET) Sans knows that this was all very much intentional. He absolutely does not want to be angry, and is certainly only feeling it subconsciously.
But… he wanted so badly to understand, and enter his brother world. But now, Sans is just… Baffled. Hes like “what the fuck did you do???”
SCENE 2
Gaster continues to look blank. Looking up at Sans as he approaches, encasing him in even more shadow.
Sans’ hand reaches to Gasters face. From Sans’ perspective, his intentions are like checking for a pulse. Not literally ofc cause pulses arent on our face- but like, feeling for him. For a sign that something is there. (It’s also meant to be something motherly/comforting)
But then, Gaster leans into the touch, somewhat reciprocating this wordless “ive got you” gesture. That’s what makes Sans go from Terrified to just purely grief stricken. His brother is still alive. And he loves him.
But this form wont last for long…For universe fixing screw ups reasons :D 👍
SCENE 3
Gaster then opens his eyes, revealing hes even still got eye lights available for him. Thats what just SHATTERS the dam, and Sans embraces him suddenly.
SCENE(S) 4
Then, the “reset” happens, Gaster is gone, and Papyrus appears in place of Wingdings in his bed.
Nothing is boiling to add to a “frozen in terror” feeling!
Now- drawing all of the differences between the past and present rooms. DESTROYED ME. i HAD SO MUCH FUN BUT I ALSO CRIED 😭 There are no thank-you letters to santa, no racecar bed, no silly bone painting, no action figures, just BORING
I also wanted to keep everything monochromatic, so ofc we’ve got black and white for the void/Gaster, blue for Sans, red for Papyrus, and purple for Sans and Papyrus together.
The tape recorder and lab coat are still greyscale though cause Wingdings still has SOME of his stuff lying around. But the tapes are indecipherable, and Papyrus threw out that lab coat the first chance he got. It gave him the absolute worst feeling, worse than anything he’s ever experienced.
Something I also really enjoy is the fact that the dress shirts were still technically Wingdings’ but they’re red for Papyrus. The lab coat is the only real WINGDINGS thing that Papyrus wants absolutely no part in. Some things that were Wingdings’ are now Papyrus’ cause :D👍
in place of the bone painting are just family photos that I also have extra to say about. Someday I wanna make a comic of what happened to those/what I think would happen to em.
One day Papyrus is like “HEY UH- SANS! THESE PHOTOS! I DON’T LIKE LOOKING AT THEM! CAN WE NOT!?” Aka, he doesn’t remember these things happening/these photos being taken… BUT THEYRE PHOTOS OF HIM.
So he just feels really uncomfortable looking at memories he should reasonably remember, but doesn’t at all- and Sans gets that. But he keeps em in his drawer. Then! they hung up the bone thing in place of it cause SILLY!
But the family photos, I still had fun with. From left to right theyre a photo of Semi with the twins, the twins as baby bones, then as slightly older kids, then WDs graduation photo.
CONCLUSION!
This entire thing was so much fun, and I feel i’ve really grown as an artist over the process of experimenting and not being knocked down by annoying setbacks,
Also, as usual, Works In Progress’ plus extra behind the scenes stuff will be posted shortly after this!! YIPPEEE!!! HAPPY NIGHTMARES!!!!!
OHHHH ALSO EXTRA ART!!!
“AREN’T THEY BEAUTIFUL?”
That silly moment when your clone is really weirdly obsessed with stars and enthusiastically holds your eye sockets open to show you them
#wingdings loves his brother ( biggest plot twist)#dunno if hes even lucid in this#just that its instinct and subconscious emotions guiding him rn-#poor sans dudes 😭#he just wanted the best for his brother#massive L on Gasters part ngl#massive L on Wingdings’ part ngl#MASSIVE W FOR PAPYRUS#CAUSE WHEN HAS HE EVER DONE WRONG??? Dont ansewr that#when i catch you sunsestart when i catch you#wingdings stop please#i am incredibly excited to see the finality of forgettable au undertale wingdings electric boogaloo#wingdings please stop#gaster undertale#gaster wingdings#goopy wingdings#my favorite part of making this was when#uhmmmm#uh#uhhhhhhhhh#forget…#uhhhhhh
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blooming wallflowers (m) | knj
⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again
⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation. ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading! ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia
⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints
⟶ Music companion | Blue Rain, Make You Mine ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi | Commission ⟶ Read on AO3 ⟶ Short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie
On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together.
But today is not one of those days.
“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands.
“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.”
Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started.
“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.
“I am not!”
“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.”
Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!”
Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry.
Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it.
Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter.
You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute.
Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now.
Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something.
She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon.
“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them.
You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries.
For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things.
“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—”
Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn.
“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry.
Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to.
Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment.
“Hi there, do you need any help?”
“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.”
“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.”
Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.”
All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked.
Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.”
“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?”
Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl.
“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer.
“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight.
As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.”
A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.”
“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.”
Find the beauty in the chaos.
You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time.
Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane.
You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead.
Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe.
Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened.
While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend.
And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says.
It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him.
“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.”
And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other.
“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother.
“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.”
Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.”
Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding.
Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.”
“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.”
You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour.
Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than.
The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.”
Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.”
Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”
The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.”
“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both.
Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.”
Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head.
Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real?
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders.
No, none of it involves you.
Maybe.
You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.”
You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave.
Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.”
You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car.
Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye.
“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter.
“Yes, um. You too.”
Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls.
“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.
“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.
“I’ll see you girls around!”
Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving.
Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon.
Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all.
There is truly no beauty in this chaos.
Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.
It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse.
But, of course, it eventually did.
Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.
Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now.
But must it happen when you are inside it?
The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself.
You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm.
At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself.
It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together.
You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt.
“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation.
You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space.
“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little.
“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator.
It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away.
Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in.
Is the building really burning?
Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?
What happens if help doesn’t come?
What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—
You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope.
Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—
A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.
"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way.
"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”
"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."
You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.”
Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall.
Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.
"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."
Safe.
The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside.
More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.
One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?”
Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn.
"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."
You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.
"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."
Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold.
With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak.
“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met.
“I told you we’d meet again soon.”
“Is this really necessary?”
You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem.
Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere.
Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office.
“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.”
“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?”
The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still.
Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by.
“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.”
The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—”
His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.
Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.
“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.”
Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.”
He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.”
You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.”
“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?”
“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.”
At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.”
For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?”
You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.”
With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side.
“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?”
You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”
“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.”
You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.”
“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.”
As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next.
“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest.
“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.”
You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing.
“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.
“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”
You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.”
You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again.
And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself.
“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.”
Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency.
Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye.
Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.”
Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.”
It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city.
The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender.
“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders.
Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.”
“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh.
“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.”
“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.”
Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down.
Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.
Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive.
He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more.
He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled.
He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago.
It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it���which was why he decided to move away.
Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—
He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so.
“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.”
Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.”
Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.”
Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.”
“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink.
Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild.
“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?”
“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.”
As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time.
“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink.
“Sure. Anything.”
“Do you believe in fate?”
Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?”
Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home.
“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.”
“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks.
“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts,
“To friendship.”
Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?”
“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.”
Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?”
“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home.
“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.”
Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.”
Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.
The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage.
Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel. It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it.
“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side.
“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter.
You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.
“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at.
You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.”
Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.
“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.”
Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence.
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows.
You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself.
As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”
Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.”
“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over.
“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”
Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips.
“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”
“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?”
“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”
Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.”
“Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this.
You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender.
“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going.
The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone.
Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing.
You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it.
Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years.
As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all.
Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—
Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name.
“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach.
“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?”
“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.”
Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them.
“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon.
“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.”
You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.”
Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?”
“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?”
You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes.
Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink.
It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night.
Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night.
Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.”
“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?”
You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once.
“I think I’m going to stay.”
Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.”
You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame.
“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.
“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?”
The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”
“Surprise me.”
Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.”
“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?”
Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”
You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree.
“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing.
“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”
He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”
You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”
He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him.
The look which shows a different kind of want.
And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more.
It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right?
Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it.
But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance.
Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,
“Do you want to get out of here?”
Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to.
“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse.
“Your place, or mine?”
A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer.
You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?”
Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his.
“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him.
“No, they’re at my parents.”
A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?”
You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.”
Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this.
In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come.
He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless.
“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh.
Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home.
In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips.
He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer.
“Of course.”
“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you.
“Since the fire alert?”
“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.”
Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls.
No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates.
“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.”
Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?”
With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—”
You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?”
Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—”
Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.”
You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you.
As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it.
Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life.
“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.”
Namjoon laughs. “What—?”
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss.
“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—”
It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once.
“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home.
As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see.
Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air.
Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home.
Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.
Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you.
He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss.
For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss
Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue.
He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours.
The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his.
Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.
Tonight is going to be a good night.
As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door.
It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer.
You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot?
Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way.
Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does.
As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from.
It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions.
While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste.
You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards.
Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.
Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night.
He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”
Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms.
A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles.
You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt.
His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso.
It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you.
You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more.
Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp.
“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him.
“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”
He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time.
You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look.
“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you.
Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly.
The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand.
Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath.
“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.”
Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.”
“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach.
“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control.
He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead.
With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs.
Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.”
He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin.
Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings.
Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself.
Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?”
“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.”
At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders.
Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more.
Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him.
Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss.
His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making.
In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom.
His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment.
Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth.
Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release.
“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm.
Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release.
“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.”
“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles.
“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him.
Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.”
Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you.
It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you.
As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further.
Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness.
Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs.
“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?”
Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body.
Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure.
With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them.
Dear God, help me.
You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind.
Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place.
“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.
“Everything okay?”
You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.”
Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.”
Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.”
His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.
“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.”
You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom.
Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed.
Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees.
Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you.
Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow.
An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own.
Desperation.
Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel.
Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done.
Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name.
His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you.
Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs.
You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds.
His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure.
With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core.
With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other.
It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body.
Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high.
Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.”
His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry.
You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss.
Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth.
This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm.
With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips.
Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance.
“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.”
He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed.
The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again.
You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze.
He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath.
“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.”
You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit.
Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over.
“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.
His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late.
The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.
“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.
“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away.
His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?”
“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.”
The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?”
He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position.
Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time.
You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough.
As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you.
His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core.
Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly.
You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips.
A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent.
“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size.
Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts.
“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free.
Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now.
These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure.
“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.”
Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers.
With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it.
Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin.
Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns.
“You’ve already came too many times, so—”
Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.”
Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod.
Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.
“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow.
Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other.
Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy.
“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still.
Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you.
“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core.
“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.”
With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop.
“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body.
It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies.
It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking.
“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat.
You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste.
He’s close.
“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.
“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build.
His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge.
A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm.
Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss.
The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt.
Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent.
“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder.
“Hmm…yes, it was…”
A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say.
Incredible. Astounding.
“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him.
You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him.
Stay the night.
The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon.
“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes.
“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?”
“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?”
Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more.
You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin.
You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time.
Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.”
Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.”
You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?”
His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.”
Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines. Update | you can read more in the short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie
— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.
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I like being people's first request.
Can I have some smut with Fontaine men and how they would ravage there s/o during smeggsy time if they asked them?
Thank uuuu!! <33 (good luck on your writing journey!)
Thank you!
Featuring / Wriothesley, Lyney, Neuvillette
How Genshin Men Would React If There S/O Ask's Them To Go Rougher
Featuring / Wriothesley, Lyney, Neuvillette
Content Warning: pussy drunk (wriothesley), overstimulation (wriothesley), fingering (wriothesley), biting (lyney), dirty talk (lyney), penetration (neuvillette), praise (neuvillette), 2 cock (neuvillette)
SMUT NO PLOT BE AWARE!!
Wriothesley ׂ╰┈➤ *ੈ♡⸝⸝⛓️༘⋆
Wriothesley is definitely a pussy man, yes crazy sentence starter, I know. He is drunk over it and starved over it.
Wriothesley is usually already very rough with you during sex and whether it tends to be sexual or something new you two are experimenting with he still manages to find creative ways to be rough.
It would definitely be a day where he is eating you out after a stressed day of work. Your legs hooked over his shoulders and his head dipped between the plush of your thighs skillfully working down there.
It would be until you ask him to go rougher he would be puzzled at first. He was already rough and you want him to be rougher with you?
It wouldn't take long till you're completely on the bed and he is ravaging you In every way possible with his tongue and fingers. Curling at least 3 and the over stimulation flowing inside of you like a tidal wave.
Not even a warning when you come you just let it out, because of everything you were feeling all at once..
And knowing Wriothesley.. he's not stopping.
Lyney ׂ╰┈➤ *ੈ♡⸝⸝♠️༘⋆
Lyney loves biting you and it's a weird head cannon but cmon he's so kitty coded so it makes sense
Lyney loves biting you and leaving bruises everywhere on your skin and it doesn't matter how noticeable it could be when you're out in public, he just needs to make sure his presence was known on your body.
He definitely suckles on your bites after he does it, it's a great way to draw out some quick moans when you feel the pain and then the warmness of his saliva on your skin afterward, but obviously Lyney knows exactly what you like.
It makes him smirk hearing you beg for him to go rougher when you were already whining in pain before and it just makes him more riled up and talk dirty to you.
"Ah.. so my doll still needs a bit more fixing..?"
"shh.. cmon doll ill just make these marks more noticeable."
His bites get rougher leaving really noticeable marks and his tongue also gets explorative, leaving trails of saliva on your skin.
But I guess that's a perk of being a magicians lover. There's tricks inside of him without props.
Neuvillette ׂ╰┈➤ *ੈ♡⸝⸝🌊༘⋆
IDC Neuvillette can be all gentle and stoic he likes I can tell this man is gentle but only when asked. This man will be an absolute fein in the sheets.
Neuvillette loves the way your soft body takes him in and out, your face smooshed against the silk sheets while his cock slips inside and out of you comfortably. His other cock was stroking along your clit with precision.
Neuvillette was confused. You originally wanted some gentle sex but now you're asking him to be rough? But he was not complaining one bit, in fact he was actually feeling a primal desire. A selfish desire he had to let in and act on.
You were flipped on your back and penetrated into opening your walls extremely wide to accommodate his girth. His cock kissing your cervix causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head. His other one is stroking faster against your puffy clit due to the fast and rough thrusts. All while he praised you.
"You're doing so well like this, dear.."
"Is it selfish to admit I like to see you like this?"
Neuvillette heard your pleas and cries of his title which was enough alone to rile him up more and more.
Minutes and minutes pass..
And Neuvillette was not gonna slow down anytime soon..
@chillermaina 2024 (Please don't steal my work.)
#fontaine#genshin x reader#genshin x you#x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#neuvillette x you#neuvillette x y/n#wriothesley x y/n#lyney x reader#lyney x you#lyney x y/n#fontaine x reader#smut#genshin smut#Chillermainas Work!
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Third Leg?
Summary: after spending time with Minho after exams, you remember something he said in the heat of the moment about your packmate Jeongin. You decide to confront Jeongin about it, because after all, what's the worst that can happen?
Warnings: sex. uh. poly ot8 and reader. more omegaverse. continuation of Dibs but can be read on its own. breeding kink?? manhandling ??? reader is lowkey a brat, uh. Jeongin's dick is huge. I actually don't know what else to add, so let me know if there's another thing I should put in here. reader is an omega but gender and genitals are unspecified as always
notes: I got possesed by a demon when I was writing this. I don't even have a breeding kink. Also if the title is bad, no. this is my first time writing Jeongin, so if it's bad no it isn't. this is his very late birthday present. Happy Birthday, King.
to read: Dibs
In most things, you try to be reasonable. It does not come easy to you, it doesn’t come easy to most people. You wish your pack would be more understanding of this sometimes. You know that’s an unfair thing to say about, to say to, your pack, but you can’t help it. You really don’t want to, you really can’t spend Jeongin’s rut with him. It’s the middle of the semester, you’re still convinced the Luna doesn’t like you, and you’d prefer not to think too hard about your relationship with anyone else. You’re comfortable with Hyunjin and you’re comfortable with Changbin. Everyone else, you think, couldn’t care whether you were around or not.
“That’s unfair to think, dove. Of course they want you around. We want you around.” Hyunjin says, he’s holding your face in his palms in a way that he often does when he talks to you.
“I know, but I really don’t feel comfortable yet, it’s only been a couple months, and it took me so long to get used to being around you.” You huff and you can feel a heat forming behind your nose. “I just really- I don’t want to spend Innie’s rut with him. I can’t.” Hyunjin hums affirmingly and swipes a finger under your eye to cut off a tear, but otherwise makes no comment about your crying.
“You want them to stop pushing,” he says, and you nod at him.
“I want them to stop pushing.”
“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. But, please don’t say we don’t want you around. We do. At the very least, I do. Okay?” You nod at him and smile slightly as he kisses your nose, it turns into a laugh when he gets insistent, peppering kisses all over your face until you’re shoving him off and smiling wide at him.
-
“So.” You have a spoonful of cereal halfway to your mouth when he comes into the kitchen. In all reality, you aren’t supposed to be here. You only stopped by for a quick snack before you went to head into work, but then there was something at the shop so your boss told you to stay home. You’d intended to detour to the campus library instead to catch up on some homework, but between your first and second bowls of cereal you had switched out of your outside clothes to sweats and an old t-shirt, and now you’re standing three feet away from Yang Jeongin.
“So?” You set the bowl down on the counter.
“You don’t want to spend my rut with me.” You draw your shoulders up to your ears defensively. You think something in your scent must turn sour because you see Jeongin wrinkle his nose.
“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not mad or anything. I just wanted to know if you’d tell me why.” You pause, picking up your spoon and stirring the milk around the bowl, listening to the clink clink clink of metal on ceramic. Something about his question confuses you.
“If?”
“Yeah, ‘if.’ I don’t want to pressure you for information if you’re not ready to give it. If you’re uncomfortable with spending my rut with me, that’s fine. If you don’t want to tell me you’re uncomfortable, that’s also fine.”
“I don’t want to tell you why.” He shrugs. You’re surprised at how easy that was.
“That’s fine. I have another question though.”
“Hmm?”
“Could we hangout, or something? Before you steer clear of the house for a week and a half, I want to spend time with you. Unfortunately,” he rolls his eyes, “I’ve come to enjoy your company and if I don’t spend some time with you I might do something drastic.” He’s slowly approaching you now, crowding you against the counter. He’s given you plenty of time to walk away or move, but you haven’t, so he continues.
“Drastic, you say.” He hums, taking your bowl and putting it in the sink, not bothering to rinse it out.
“Drastic like breaking every single door that separates the two of us just to make sure you’re safe.” He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, nose against your neck. His hair smells like baby powder, like his shampoo that you and Hyunjin sometimes steal. You can feel him shake with laughter when your scent changes with arousal as he gets in your space.
“You’re easy.” You hit his back slightly.
“You’re mean.”
“Will you hangout with me, though? I was mostly serious.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll hangout with you.”
“Great,” he says, and you let out a small shriek as he drags you in the direction of his room. The door is halfway closed when he yells across the house.
“I call dibs until my rut starts!” You can hear the groans and complaints through his now shut door.
-
So, you spend time with him, both before and after his rut, and nobody comments on how annoying it is that you’re monopolizing his time like you thought they would. There’s a point where Hyunjin interrupts you because he wants Jeongin’s dick in his mouth, and when you move to leave, they both start complaining. (You left anyway, not being ready for that just yet, but the idea made you feel warm regardless.)
You don’t get to spend much time with him after that though, because then you have Minho and exams flooding your vision and your senses, and while one of those things is enjoyable, the other isn’t and for two seconds you’d like your brain to be off. Just for two. That time comes and it’s as you’re waking up from your post-fuck nap with Minho that it hits you.
“You said Innie was talking about me during rut?”
“What? Sweetheart, we just woke up.” Minho is rubbing his eyes, smacking his mouth, and blinking cutely. You feel the urge to pinch his cheek but worry that would land you in hot water so you just poke it instead.
“Yes, I know, I know, but. You said Jeongin was talking about me during his rut.”
“Yes? Why do you sound so surprised? You’re our Omega after all.” You flush again at his casual claim on you, he keeps catching you off guard with it.
“He never mentioned it to me.” Minho yawns and slings his arm over your waist.
“You were busy, of course he didn’t mention it to you. Besides, you seemed so … hesitant to spend his rut with him in the first place that he probably didn’t want to mention it at all.” You frown, brows furrowing as you think about it. You move to get out of bed when Minho stops you.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
“To talk to Jeongin.”
“It’s too early for one, and for two. I have some things planned for us.” His hand wanders up your shirt.
“But-”
“I thought you had learned enough to stop arguing with me? Does your mommy need to teach you a lesson?” He says this, but he’s not holding you back. If you wanted to, you could leave this bed and camp outside of Jeongin’s door until he woke up. But you don’t. You don’t even know what you want to say to him, and Minho is tracing soft circles on your skin and you’re struck with undeniable want. You ease yourself back into bed.
“That’s my pretty Omega. So good for me, hmm?”
-
You don’t get to talk to Jeongin until several days later. You’re too busy sleeping like the dead for a day and a half, then Chan steals you away for a celebratory dinner date, then when you finally get the chance to talk to him, you walk into his room and find him and Yongbok making out, so you’ve had to curb the conversation for later, until now.
“Innie!” He’s slipping his shoes on.
“Yeah?” He never ties them, you notice, ties them once and then slips them on and off over and over again.
“Where are you going?”
“On a walk.”
“Great.” You walk over to him and shove his jacket off his shoulders, then kick at his feet until he takes his shoes back off, and start dragging him to his room.
“What.” He’s confused despite the fact that he’s the one who let it get this far.
“I want to talk to you.”
“Okay?” He sits down on his bed, patting the spot next to him so you can sit too.
“Minho mentioned that you talked about me during your rut.” It comes out of you in a rush. Jeongin’s face flushes red. He covers his face with his hands, his huge hands with their stupidly long fingers.
“Ah. Yes. I did. Are you upset?”
“Am I up- Am I upset?” You’re incredulous. “One of the hottest men I’ve ever seen and one of my Alphas wanted me during his rut and you think I’m upset?”
“Okay, to be fair. You didn’t seem too thrilled about the idea of my rut to begin with.”
“I was new to the pack!”
“You’d been with us for three months!”
“Like I said, new!” He huffs and knocks you onto your back, laying across you in the way you’ve seen the others do to him.
“Why did you come to talk to me about it?” You flush at his question and you can hear his little chuckle. The members joke that he learned how to be mischievous from Minho and Seungmin, and you’ve never seen it more than right now.
“Oh? I see.”
“Don’t be mean.”
“Minho hyung says you like when people are mean.”
“Minho said what?!”
“I’m kidding, he refused to tell us what you two got up to, but now I know that I’m not too far off.” You grab a pillow from behind your head and smack him with it. He moves himself until your noses are touching and smiles at you. You smile back and poke around his face until your finger lands in a dimple.
“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” His voice is soft, low, because of how close he is to your face and he smirks when your scent fills the room.
“You do?” You nod at him and he tuts.
“Minho’s taught you better than that.” You huff and pout at him. He laughs and kisses you.
“I’ll let you get away with it because you’re cute.” You beam at him and he smiles back.
He starts with kissing you, because of course he does. It’s soft and sweet and a little hesitant and it’s similar to the way you’ve seen him kiss Yongbok, but different from the way you’ve seen him kiss Seungmin and you’re struck with the realization that he sees you as something soft and precious. That he’ll hold you with the same amount of delicacy he uses to hold Felix and your heart stutters in your chest for a minute.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” He’s pulling away, looking at you with wide eyes as your scent changes. “Did I hurt you?” You shake your head at him, pulling him close for a hug for a minute as you calm yourself down.
You’ve never had a pack before, your culture has moved away from it. You had to move from your family for school and since then you’ve been relatively alone. It’s been a while since you’ve felt loved, and when you’re faced with the sheer amount of it the eight of them have to give it overwhelms you every time. He hasn’t hurt you, it’s the opposite.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Ah, I see. Hyungs’ said you might cry a little. That’s okay. Do you want to stop?” You shake your head at him, answering with a verbal “no” after he stares at you pointedly. You lean in to kiss him again and he responds with the same gentleness he did before and you can feel yourself slicking up in your pants. You hear him take a sharp inhale and then you feel his grip tighten where his hands were resting on the side of your face and neck.
“Jesus, I can see why hyung keeps you to himself all the time. You smell so fucking good.” He stops kissing you to start making out with your neck, you can feel him starting to scent you and you tug at him, whining.
“Innie-”
“Yeah, I know, but-” he cuts himself off with a groan and you can feel his hips press into yours and dear God.
“Is that your leg?”
“No.” You whine again. There’s no fucking way his dick is that big. You tell him so.
“Well. Prepare to eat your words because it is.”
You huff at him again, and really, he should spend less time around the more sarcastic pack members because his attitude is making your eye twitch. He sees it and smiles mischievously at you before landing a soft peck right below the same eye.
“I’d like to see how you handle Hannie or Seungmin hyung. They’re worse than I am.”
“They also probably move faster than you do.” He grumbles at you at that and gets to work undressing the two of you. He’s sliding his hoodie off when you’re filled with the urge to bite his biceps. They’ve gotten bigger since you’ve been introduced to him and you think it’s crazy because you hardly ever see him work out. Suddenly, there’s a large palm against your forehead and any forward movement you had started is quickly stopped.
“What are you doing?” You can feel your teeth click together as your mouth closes and you blink a couple times.
“Nothing.” He squints at you.
“You were going to bite me, weren’t you?”
“No.”
“You’re a liar!” You’re being manhandled now, and you refuse to go down without a fight. You grab a pillow and nail him in the face with it.
“I am not! I’ve never- don’t pull my hair- I’ve never lied!”
“You’re doing it right- why are your nails so fucking long- right now!”
“Nuh uh!”
“Did you just fucking- ow! What the hell?” You finally manage to get your teeth on his arm and it’s just as great as you imagined it would be. Your victory is incredibly short lived because between one second and the next Jeongin has you pinned to the bed. Your cheek is pressed against the mattress and he has your arm twisted in a way that’s mildly uncomfortable, but that’s overshadowed by how you can feel him pressed against you to keep you pinned. He’s all lean muscle and you can feel where his shoulders press against yours and where his cock is pressed against your ass and if you tilt your hips just right, you can feel him brush against your slick hole.
“Oh? Does my pretty Omega want something?” You can hear the laughter in his voice. You can also hear how it’s dropped three octaves and you can feel it rumbling from his chest. You can feel how his cock is starting to leak against your skin.
“Jeongin-”
“I think,” he grabs your other arm, pinning your wrists at the small of your back, “that if you want anything you should beg for it.”
“Innie, you’re not being fair-”
“I’m not being fair? You bit me. I have you pinned. If you want anything from me, you’re going to have to work for it.” You turn your head into the mattress and let out a small sob, wiggling a bit in Jeongin’s hold. His hands loosen on your wrists and he lifts his weight off of you enough that you could get out if you wanted to. Minho did this too, gave you signals with his body to let you know that it was okay to not want it, the problem is that you do. You like how Jeongin has you pinned, and you like the humiliation that’s going to come with begging for it.
He notices you haven’t moved and so his grip tightens on your wrists again. You feel the chuckle he lets out as he presses his weight down onto you again and you know your scent must be doing something because he inhales with his nose pressed straight against your neck.
“Get to begging, baby. I have all night.” You whine at that, wiggling and trying to push your hips back against his to fuck yourself onto his cock, but he pulls his hips back, readjusts until you couldn’t reach his cock unless you dislocated something and he laughs at you.
Jeongin does have all night, it turns out, because you spend a considerable amount of time with your forehead pressed into the mattress trying to will the shame that comes with wanting out of your body. At one point, he asks you if you’re alright, dropping the act for a bit and when you respond he resorts to taunting you.
He’s doing it now, taking his ridiculously large dick in his hand and gathering some of the slick that’s leaked between your legs to jerk it. You can hear the wet noises it’s making and you can’t help but think of how much louder it would be if he were actually fucking you. It turns out that your Alpha was thinking the same thing because he starts talking, and each word chips away at the lump in your throat.
“Fuck, you smell so good, baby. Your slick is so warm, I bet it’d be warmer if I got it straight from the source, yeah? What do you think? You’re leaking so much you’ve made a wet spot on the bed, maybe I should fuck that instead, since you wanna be stubborn.” You whine in response.
“No? You don’t want me to do that? I think I should. Or should I just finish on your back?” Your next answering whine is more of a wail.
“Oh, I see. You’re a little cumwhore is that it? Want me to come inside of you? Hmm? Get our Omega pregnant?” You moan this time, drooling onto the sheets. Jeongin grabs your head and turns it to the side so he can see you better, or so that you can see him and how he’s about to waste his cum on you instead of in you. The drool smears onto your cheek and you can feel your eyes start to well up with tears because you know he’s close.
“Please.” It escapes from you in a pathetic whimper and the hand that was stroking his cock pauses.
“What was that? I don’t think I heard you.” You know he did, but you also know that if you don’t repeat yourself and beg good enough he really will make good on his promise to finish on your back and leave you there.
“Innie, Jeonginnie, please. I want- I want-”
“Want what? Hmm? A slice of cake, a new Minecraft update?” You huff at his mocking, but it’s too wet to really hold any weight, and you can feel your lip wobbling, so you’re not surprised when what you say next is more of a sob than anything else.
“Your cock. Jeongin, Alpha, please. You said you wanted me during your rut, don’t you want me now?” It’s a low blow, and even through your desperation you know that, but you’ll do what it takes to get him to finally stick his huge dick in you.
“Oh, baby. I do. Don’t worry.” His fingers are searching for your entrance, stretching you out just enough for it to not burn too bad, but you’re so wet, and both of you are so needy, you know that you’ll just have to deal with the pain of not preparing for his stupid dick later because you want it now.
“Then,” he made the mistake of letting go of your wrists to grab your hip instead, and you ball your hands into fists and hit the bed in frustration, “why aren’t you fucking me?” He huffs a laugh.
“All that and you’re still giving me trouble? You’re lucky you’re cute, Omega. So lucky.” You start to kick your feet at him but you’re stopped by the fact that he’s slowly starting to push into you, making a home for himself inside your body and slowly forcing the breath from your lungs.
It burns, and you expected it to with how unprepared you were, but it feels good and you don’t care so that will have to be a later-you problem.
“Jesus, you feel so good, baby. Better than I imagined.” He starts a rough rhythm right off the bat, and you’re needy enough that it doesn’t bother you, besides, you’re pretty sure he was edging himself earlier, so he’s entitled to this.
“Felix hyung and I talked about it, you know. When I was in rut. You left.” The last part comes out as a soft growl, and he coughs to get himself in check before pressing a soft kiss between your shoulder blades.
“You left and I thought about how warm you’d feel inside. Felix wondered too, said he wanted to know how sweet you were.” You hear him chuckle. “Y’know I got him to come untouched from just talking about you, pretty baby?”
You gasp, letting out a shuddery moan at that, and you hear Jeongin laugh above you. You were already halfway to delirious with how good he was fucking you- hard enough to shake the bed and bang the headboard against the wall- but something about knowing that the pack wants you always makes you just that much wetter, always makes your head that much lighter, so you can’t help but clench down around his cock and get everything around you soaked with more of your slick.
“Jeonginnie, Alpha, I- please- I want to-”
“Yeah, yeah, go ahead, baby. I won’t make you beg for this one.” He presses himself down against your back, knocking your knees out from under you so you’re flat against the bed and have nowhere to go, nothing to do but take it.
“The next one, though. I make no promises.”
The new angle has you going dumber than you were before and you can feel Jeongin’s breath in puffs of hot air against your neck. You whine at him, moaning as you’re trapped underneath his body and when you come it’s with white spots dancing across your vision. You’re just coming down when you feel him start to pull out and you surprise both yourself and him with the growl that comes out of you.
“Yang Jeongin, so help me God if you do not come inside of me-” He shuts you up by doing just that, bullying his knot into you until it pops and rolling the two of you onto your sides so you’re not laying in the multiple spots of wet that have stained his sheets.
“You’re bossy.” It’s said against your hair while his stupidly big hands come up to massage the crick in your neck that’s finally made itself present. “How do you get away with that when you’re with Minho hyung?”
“I listen to him. Mostly.” He pinches you, you pinch back. You sit in silence for a minute.
“Was it good? Or, as good as you imagined?” You try not to sound insecure as you say it, but you know that you’ve probably missed the mark.
“Better. Way better.” He kisses the spot he was just massaging and winds his arm around your middle. “Nap time. You’ll need your energy when I get you back for being a little shit.”
“I wasn’t.” He scoffs at you.
“Yeah, sure. And my name is Chan.”
“Hi, Chan, how are you?”
“Cancel what I said earlier. The second we aren’t locked together anymore I’m kicking you out.” You laugh at him.
#bee blurbs#ft.innie#a bee o#yang jeongin x reader#i.n x reader#i.n x you#yang jeongin x you#yang jeongin hard thoughs#yang jeongin smut#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#skz x you#skz x reader#skz smut#stray kids smut
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Noa x human reader maybe reader is telling him about human customs
The slow burn queen reTURNS!!!!!
Title: Customary. Rating: K. ( Super fluffy, we love. ) Words: 4.2K+ Pairing: Implied ! Noa x Human!Reader. Summary: Noa finds the concept of kissing interesting, he knew about it, has received his fair share from primarily his mother, forehead kisses here and there, scattered like leaves in his memory, but it was never the preferred way to show affection. ** Does contain mild spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes ** READ THE SERIES HERE.
-- -- --
Noa, in his time knowing you, figured that pressing for explanations left him without them. Or at least, the imposing questions startled enough that you didn't quite know how to answer. Explaining to him that kissing was indeed a way to show affection, but it also had a deeper meaning, at least to you, proved a difficult task. He’s curious about it, you could tell as he was rocking back and forth in some anticipation of your words, but in his nature, he stayed quiet and looked at you, observing your expression and your demeanor.
Drawing your bottom lip in, you chewed it in thought before releasing it, completely oblivious to Noa’s eyes watching the movement with some sort of amusement. Why Echo does that, he did not understand. He chose not to, but would remain curious and accepting if you chose to ever explain it to him. He reached up and pressed the back of his right pointer finger to his lip, savoring the sensation for a few fleeting moments before dropping the hand again as you finally found your voice, “It’s… It’s a way to uh… I don’t really know how to…”
The change in your face as you trail off trying to explain, Noa looked at the crease between your eyebrows and mimicked the expression momentarily to remind himself that it was your inquiring face. He’d seen it so frequently lately, almost taking a sickening solace in it because it meant you would talk to him, it meant you would pay attention to him. Something in the pit of his stomach, as unsettling as it was, yearned to have you by him, scent, physically, mentally. Physical… Noa muttered inside of his head and let his green gaze fall to your lap, more or less to study your hands that collapsed there.
The fidgeting of your fingers was evident, twisting and picking at your fingernails. For a split second the Ape wanted nothing more than to grab them in some feeble attempt to keep you calm and focused but he refrained. Inappropriate behavior with an Echo, he was screaming at himself and raised his hand to touch the band on his arm; a habit he found himself doing now when he needed to be grounded. The blue feathers tickled him and he closed his eyes for a split second. A reminder of who he was and who you were in comparison. Next on the list of ailments were the hard swallows and your inability to look straight at him. That he did not understand. Why not look at him? Perhaps, looking at him would help you answer! Noa would encourage answers occasionally when you were in the mood, but never forced them.
He, for a moment in time, could almost feel your heart beating, or at least, he could hear it and the pace sped up. It was a strange sensation. Whilst he knew that time didn't speed or slow down, it felt like both were happening simultaneously. Like, he had climbed to the highest point possible and intentionally let go. That feeling where you’re caught in the air. Did your heart speed up? Noa tilted his head as you came to glance over his shoulder at the tall trees that happily boarded the village, any attempt at words now ceasing as you didn't know how to explain to him what a kiss meant to you. Maybe, he mis-heard.
“It’s romantic.” Finally setting on a word, you shifted on the log you had grown to enjoy from hours of talking to Noa. It was a term sometimes forgotten, especially in the state of the world. Humans who had the ability to breed successfully often did so out of necessity, never love or romantic intentions. You thought about that. Your parents did just that, you were a product of need, not love. In fact, thinking kisses were a romantic notion has always been brushed aside, many telling you it was merely a fever dream, an unrealistic goal and you needed to get your head of the clouds to focus on the bigger picture. Humans are denoted down to mating for need, not for want, pleasure and surely not for romantic gain.
“An expression of… love.” You went on to say, preoccupying your hands by picking at the log you were sitting on. A piece of wood splintered off and a deep part of you wanted to shove it between your skin just to get yourself out of the situation. Out of having to explain. Words escaped you again when he looked at you. Swimming in green eyes for a second, you swallowed hard and forced your eyes to look elsewhere, knowing that Noa was able to inadvertently get you this… Worked up with just a look was uneasy at times, especially when the two of you were alone. Oftentimes, at least since Noa found you, he left you feeling something inexplicable. Something almost, dare you say, primal. The want to touch him, the want for his attention. No, you whispered inside of your head, it was beyond that, but it was not possible for it to ever become a reality. It… was…You were shameful to admit what it was. The thoughts racked in your mind like a vicious attack. Not even wanting anymore, it felt like a need that was drawing the two of you together like magnets. Need to be near, need to hear him, need to smell him, to… Indulge in him.
Love itself was an understanding between the two of you, it was often brought up here and there when discussing bonds, usually between families. You had gotten quite a bit out of him regarding, especially when you were introduced to both Soona and Anaya. The three shared an intensely deep bond, reminiscent of love between siblings, including pestering, annoyance, admiration and teasing. When you explained that to Noa, he concluded that your comparison was very much on the nose.
He very seldom touched based on his parents; a very obvious fresh wound he never wanted to delve into and you never had it in yourself to ever ask flat out. He explained before many times what had happened, but only because you would get a part of the story before he trailed off to say something that would throw the conversation to the side. You’d ask again a few days later getting another slice of the story and through that you put your pieces together. His father was gone… Their village burned… Many lost, but many found. They returned, rebuilding now. His mother, still here and you had the privilege of meeting once, and through their time restructuring their clan, they mourned. A custom deeply ingrained in the Apes which you had no idea about until he explained in simple terms.
-- -- --
‘Missing him’, he signed to you the day you asked about his father, about the relationship. Perhaps, a form of escapism. You never knew your father as well as you wanted. ‘Many days I spend thinking how it would be different if I were stronger, more able to save…’
“You did the best you could have, Noa.” You whispered to him out of empathy. It was evident in your voice, and Noa found it impeccably interesting just how easy it was to read humans. Their faces and their voices gave away so much of their inner thoughts, and it was truly no different with you. Though, there was something about you, off putting at times, that Noa couldn’t quite pinpoint. He shook it aside often as he figured maybe you were reserved and didn't want to talk, only letting it bother him in the late nights when he found it difficult to sleep, when he was fidgeting with something to fix. You were not telling him something, there was an obvious secret.
Obvious secret that came to fruition when he recognized you cared for him beyond that of any other social relationship he had. That was this moment when it got quiet between the two of you. No words, not even a sound coming from either of you as Noa peered into your eyes, his next string of signs coming off pseudo aggressive, but his intention was to impress. He would do this with a female ape he had piqued interest in. Boast of your accomplishments. Show you are the best or the best and are able to provide comfort and security. He indirectly did this towards you, ‘I am strong now,’ His signing was slow, languid as you were still learning. You found it endearing he was able to accommodate.
‘I understand…. Things I did not. Understand more now… About…’ He gestured at you instead of signing the word for ‘Echo’. He meant it as a personal statement, but your name was left out of it to keep some sort of distance. ‘I learn more because I have you.’
He saw a small smile creep on your lips, just enough to tease him with the image of a full grin. A full expression of glee. But, it was short lived as you wrapped your arms around yourself protectively and let your eyes fall to the side, “Thanks for giving me a second chance.”
Duel meaning with that, Noa huffed to himself. He had saved you once, shortly after returning home to rebuild. You were battered, bloodied and begged. Apes from the other Valley must have gotten their hands on you, having often used Echo’s to hunt for sport and leisure. At least, that is what he figured and he never pushed you to detail the events that lead you to the Eagle Clan. It took you a long time to warm up to him, to any of the Apes, but once you did, your value skyrocketed when Noa realized the potential he had to learn about Echo’s, about their habits and culture and how it may have differed from his own. He saved you both physically and then mentally by keeping these conversations going. You knew their purpose, he explained it in quite some detail. He was taking it upon himself to learn the ways of Echo’s as that is what Caesar intended. Raka intended. Maybe even what Noa now truly intended, no longer subsiding and explaining to himself that it would benefit the clan as a whole. As long as you selfishly benefited him, Noa was satisfied.
‘Ape and Echo…” He told you with a sharp intake of breath, moving just an inch towards you to captivate your gaze once again. ‘Human.’ He didn't correct himself and you knew what he meant by the word ‘Echo’, it was a courtesy now for him to call you what you would call yourself. A human… (Name). Noa didn't dare delve into that sort of familiarity yet and instead he loosely let his eyes fall into yours, defenseless in appearance and he could see your chest rising and falling out of the bottom of his vision. Echo’s were prone to nerves, often manifesting in heavy breathing, sweating and occasionally aggressiveness though Noa had yet to see that with you.
It was a quick analysis you did with him so near to your face. The creases between the bridge of his brows, the tiredness that leaked from under his eyes, his lips partially opened to display his canines. Not actively doing anything to be intimidating, he just naturally was. There was a gruff nature to his appearance, one that was slightly mysterious but oddly inviting, you wanted to run your fingertips up the broad plain between his eyes into what appeared to be coarse fur. Just to know what it felt like, just to say he allowed you to do that. Breathing in, Noa could see your rib cage expanding and then sinking back in. You were thinking. At least, so he thought. This was the closest he’s been to you, and while your scent was evident whenever you were around, it was almost overbearing now. Intoxicating and smothering. Noa would let you drown him if you pleased.
He clarified what he meant, ‘Side by side? Possible?’ Letting your breath go, Noa turned around and paced to his right. There was no reason to be so close, he figured. No reason at all.
‘Maybe.’ Was the garnered response he got from you when he peered over his shoulder, now longing to hear your voice as you had signed your answer.
-- -- --
Now, the word… Romantic… This was the first time Noa heard of this word. He understood now that it was a branch of love, but how far down did it go? Paternal? Maternal? Mates? Friends and acquaintances? No, no he thought to himself and shuffled to his feet. He took pace to the right and lightly placed his hand on his horse. Love between himself and his horse? They snorted in response, Noa dropping down to all fours and crawling to you.
You had watched his movements. He was contemplating and processing; something the two of you found yourselves doing the more frequent these conversations were. His deal was to pace, usually to the right of him. It shocked you that he had moved so fast towards you, it would only take you spreading your legs ever so slightly to allow him between them. To allow him to be as close to you as possible. But, you kept your knees together, keeping him at a distance. He sat back in front of you on his legs, eyes flicking between yours, reading the minute details on your face.
“Love between?” He signed that ever so slightly, grunting with the movement. It was fast, but you understood it enough to contemplate an answer. And there was only one, and you had hoped with it would come the end of the conversation.
“Mates.”
It was now Noa’s turn to crease his eyebrows, this time out of bitter confusion. Romance and romantic endeavors were not completely lost, now that he understood what it fully meant. As opposed to Apes before the Rise, they now had the social ability for monogamous and romantic relationships. Noa knew of nothing else in his clan. You may love and like whomever you choose, a mate for life, though of course there was the occasional talk of who would be best suited for another. Marriage was an enlightened way of living, or so Noa heard from many around him. He felt destined at times, but never found anything beyond that.
Were… you implying based on your inability to say’ romantic’ off the bat, that Apes were not capable? Apes did not understand? That is where the question and tone that left Noa came from, purely from offense and defense at the same time, “Eagle Clan…” He paused to collect his thoughts to make sure you understood what he was saying and to change your conception. Your human ignorance. You couldn’t be blamed but it was still a frustration. “Do you not think we have?”
“I---” Feeling like a child being scorned for doing something wrong, you dipped your head and looked at your fingers again. Noa was stiff next to you, shoulder blades turned in ever so gently. It wasn’t apparent from a distance, but surely this close to him, you could see the change of his stance. It left you almost breathless but you shook it aside and muttered shamefully, “You do.”
“Many generations,” Noa stood up and you found your eyes following him. His hips hit your eye line first, they were right in front of you. Narrow, but muscular. Good for climbing. His chest, broad and strong, but you suspected that as he had gotten older, it became increasingly so, to the point where you just wanted to brush your fingers against him to see how the muscles would react under your touch. Your eyes lingered for a few seconds longer on his scar, encasing his right pectoral. Then his face. He didn't appear mad, angry, which is often why he would stand up. To avoid, distract, not answer. This was different though, the way he held himself up. You couldn’t pinpoint the sensation but it left you nearly dizzy looking into his eyes, foreloned like you ate a forged mushroom that wasn’t what it appeared to be.
“My clan has been through many generations, and I have known nothing other than… Than…”
“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to offend---”
“Not offended,” Noa grumbled, touching his hand to the side of his head. His grasp was open, hand resting in a ‘C’ position as he did so, repeating the movement a few times to emphasize to you what he was thinking, “Confused why you think Apes do not understand.”
“I-I…” You struggled for some answer. You only made the assumption up based on what you were told by other humans. But, Noa questioned everything you knew. Noa himself made you question everything you knew. “I’m sorry.”
“Echo’s apologize for such useless things.,” He turned his back towards you and shuffled to the right, towards his horse but then passed it. Towards the embankment of a small stream he often visited as a child when he was in trouble. He smiled fondly at those memories. “You did not know, how would you? You are not Ape.”
Noa knew you would follow him down to the water. You were faster this time than you usually were, Noa’s ears picking up on the sound of you immediately standing up, some twigs falling under your feet and crunching from the pressure as you made haste. He was amused ever so slightly by that, the urgency he put you in. More intriguing though, was the question that spilled from your lips.
“Have you ever felt it?”
He feigned ignorance to that and questioned back, “Felt?”
“Romantic love.”
Contemplation. Noa dipped his left fingertips into the stream and let the water trail between his open digits. It felt good, relaxing and calming though inside, he felt anything but. How would he know what it felt like? Would it… Make him feel different? Put him in a stupor like he found himself with you more often than the last few meetings? Would it make him feel feral? The disgusting feeling he had deep in the pit of his stomach to smash in the face of anyone who got too near to you, especially a male. The lingering on his palms of his fingers digging tightly into his already hard skin when you got too close to him. Would it make him… Lose control? Bite your arm, bite the space between your shoulder blades, grab your hair and pull you to him, make you his in the only way that was fathomable to him during those late nights when he couldn't find sleep.
Or… Was it that sensation he got when you were looking at him, making the unsafe assumption that he would not notice? Not knowing that you were stretching out towards him silently? Ah yes, that was often his favorite thing to catch you doing. He’d preen himself at the thought when he was alone, but now he was thinking it right in front of you, your arm briefly rubbing against his own as you crouched to be next to the water with him, eyes following the movement of his hand as he dipped it further into the water.. He needed to answer before you asked again, a tendency you did when you knew he had an answer stashed away somewhere.
“I do not know.”
Fair, you thought to yourself and mimed his behavior. Your right hand dipped into the water, encasing the entire thing and cutting off right at your wrist. It was shallow, not quite a river, but with time, it surely would forge its way. You had no idea how it must have felt to them, the bonds you had with Humans were all beneficial by circumstance. Artificial at times, never natural. Apes, even now as they were before, were incredibly social. You envied that they stayed that way, you yearned to have something similar. Humans were hostile, especially towards other humans they saw as threats and you only had a place if you could help or advance in any way. Closing your eyes, you hand moved from side to side, feeling small pebbles right beneath your fingertips.
Brushing your thumb accidentally against Noa’s, you were afraid to even look at him through your peripheral. Mustering enough to do just that, your eyes slipped open and you were relieved to see that he hadn’t noticed. Or at least, he didn't react. Maybe you got lucky and he thought it was the rushing water. You stiffened regardless but didn't push your hand back or move away. Instead, you steadfastly stayed put and swirled your left hand back towards him.
“Have you,” He started, softer than he meant, knowing what just happened under the water. He reached his thumb out once more just to see. “Have you felt?”
Noa moved this time, shuffling on his feet to get into a more comfortable position. His hand paced towards yours. You knew and your heart skipped a beat. Noa was mildly passive at times, shy and reserved on the surface but passive to serve his curiosity. He’d rather sit and observe and only take action when it was needed. Was he taking action? You were unsure but may as well try… That was a lame excuse but you found yourself repeating it over and over. Following suit, you reached your thumb out. Brush. That was definitely a pebble. It was too sharp to be anything else. Brush again. Oh, a stick, you clenched your jaw. One more… One more…
One more…. “Yes.”
Thumb caressing Noa’s, you had a hard time figuring out how it felt as the motion was submerged. It was rough, sure. Calloused most likely from years upon years of climbing and holding onto rougher surfaces. Hot, especially against the cold water that flowed now around the embraced fingers. He wasn’t necessarily reciprocating, but he wasn’t pulling away either. A good sign, you soothed yourself and boldly let your pointer finger find his. Now, your hands were in the form of a triangle and Noa finally responded. You felt his pointer curl slightly, tracing the smoothness that was your skin, down, down to the palm. Nonsensically, he traced a shape there.
“How.. did it feel?”
“It feels… Confusing.”
Noa nodded at this and shut his eyes pensively, his finger still pressing into your open palm. You could so easily close it though and grasp him. How that would be perceived, you had no idea but it was at least a thought.
“Confused.” He repeated to you, only using the past tense of your adjective. Introspectively, you wondered if Noa caught the fact that you used it in the present tense but his reaction told you he didn't. “I have not seen any Echo confused. Usually, know-it-alls.”
That made you laugh audibly. Noa glanced at you in that moment, taking in the nature of your face. The lines of your smile, curl of your lips, the sun basking your skin, cheeks ever so slightly red. It was a mental picture he’d like to keep forever. He beamed at that, that he was able to garner that sort of reaction from you. He hooted out his own laughter, feeling your fingers leave his as you pulled your hand out of the water. Patting it against your thigh, water droplets seeped into your skin there and Noa felt… Envious of them for getting to peer into you deeper.
“We usually are.” You admitted without hesitation, grasping your thigh with vigor. “But… Not with this.” Noa could have sworn he saw you vaguely gesture between himself and you, but it must have been in his head as you were quick to stand next to him. You simply pushed on your thigh as leverage to get up, Echo’s has terrible balance when compared to Apes. He made up the other movements. Yes, yes, he chirped to himself. Made up.
‘Why?’ He signed silently, knowing you caught him asking that without fully looking at him. He pestered you at the beginning with a lot of ‘why’ because you were explaining human things that he didn't understand.
“I don’t… Fully understand it.” It took only a blink for Noa to stand, his hand now dripping water from the tips of his elongated fingers.
‘Thought you did,’ This time around, he used both hands to sign. ‘If you feel it, how do you not understand?’
That was a good question you found yourself longing for an answer to and you wished you could give him that answer. You tried to come to one rationally. Maybe, what you were feeling now, letting your eyes trail up Noa’s body only to rest back on his unwavering glance, was just passing and fleeting. A crush of sorts. But, often with you, those sorted themselves out. You didn't want the attachments, knowing what the world was like. You didn't want the burden of someone else to worry about when you exerted so much energy worrying about yourself and your safety.
But with Noa, especially these last few months of building a relationship outside of just Ape and Echo, his own words mind you, it was… Different. Your eyes scanned crowds to find him, your ears knew the sound of not only his voice, but his huffs and grunts, the snort that fell from his lips when he laughed, the gait of his walk. Steady and sure of himself. You enjoyed soothing afternoons in the sun with Soona and Anaya as Noa went off on a small tangent, explaining how he was going to fix something in the village to improve their lives. The excitement he had when he got on all fours to move quickly when he saw something he wanted, something he wanted to accomplish… You sunk into his eyes, almost the color of the tree leaves in the early spring.
“Love doesn’t need to be understood,” Whispering that to him, you looked over his shoulder that was eye level to you as you were both standing and tried to find the most elegant way to put your thoughts into words. Elegance though, to Noa, did not matter. You could be blunt and brash and he would still listen all the same, “Love just needs to be embraced.”
#noa x reader#noa x human reader#kingdom of the planet of the apes#planet of the apes#noa#fanfic#fanfiction#emmy writes#planet of the apes x reader#kotpota
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So Blue | Han Jisung
•Synopsis: Who can you turn to in a dire situation if not your best friend? That's what Jisung thought when he texted you. Heart racing with fear that your best friend was hurt, you rush to his side. What you find however will change everything...
•Pairings: non idol Jisung x Female Reader
•Content Includes: smut, friends to lovers, strong language, mention of sexual enhancement drug, light anxiety, creampie, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating
an: photos of Han used in title graphic have been edited for entertainment purposes by me and are not real. no harm is intended in the edited pictures. also please do not take any enhancement meds without talking to a doctor for your own safety. i don't condone the behavior that's written.
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The house is quiet, way too quiet when you step inside. Knowing Chan, Changbin, and Jisung for years, you know it's never this quiet when they're around and it's unsettling... Shutting the door behind you and glancing around, you see nothing out of the ordinary. So far everything looks exactly the way you left it last night after the four of you hung out. Just as you're about to walk into the kitchen, you hear Jisung start calling your name from his bedroom. Your heart races with panic and you rush towards his room, dropping your bag on the floor along the way. All kinds of awful scenarios play in your mind and when you burst into his room you half expect to find him bloody or with a broken bone, not sitting on the edge of his bed in a white sleeveless shirt and black shorts, with his legs spread sporting a massive hard-on.
"Wait, why me?" you blurt out, when Jisung explains that he needs your help. Your cheeks heat up as you steal a quick glance at the unmistakable bulge in his shorts. There's a mix of embarrassment and unexpected arousal that floods through you, leaving you flustered.
You're shocked, jaw practically hitting the floor. Who knew he was so… big? After all these years of friendship, you never thought of him in any other way except as your weird and talented friend. But now, seeing him in this state… It's making you feel things you'd rather deny and your stomach is flipping like crazy. Every now and then you notice that his cock twitches underneath his shorts as if it's alive, pulsating and drawing your eyes down to it again despite how hard you try not to stare. Kind of hard when something that size is practically waving “Hello” at you.
"I- I can't tell the guys this. They'd clown me for life," Jisung stammers, fidgeting as he looks at you from across his messy room. Plastic water bottles scattered, tissues crumpled on the floor—yeah, it's pretty clear what he's been up to before you got here.
"Well, what do you expect me to do, Han Jisung?" you retort, emphasizing his full name for dramatic effect.
"I don't know," he mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. "It's been hours. I can't even leave my room. It hurts, y/n."
When he grabs at the stiffness beneath his cotton shorts and lets out a low groan, you stop breathing. Why does this have to turn me on? He's my best friend! You mentally scold yourself, tearing your gaze away. Shit, it's hot in here. Your body feels too hot all over. It's like standing too close to a blazing fire, the heat making you squirm uncomfortably.
"Ji... we need to get you to the hospital," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You've seen those commercials."
"Please, no! I can't let anyone see me. Did you forget, your bestie Annie, who also happens to be Chan's girl, works there. If she sees me, it's game over. She'll tell him." Jisung pleads, hands clasped together, desperation evident in his wide brown eyes. Those puppy dog eyes of his always get to you.
"Dude, what were you even thinking, taking Love?" you groan, plopping down on the cozy carpet with a heavy thud, completely confused by your friend's decision to take an enhancement pill.
You remember seeing those late-night infomercials a couple of years back, pushing that blue heart-shaped pill. They call it 'Love' because of the 'L0-V3' stamped on it. Basically it's like Viagra, but it's mixed with a very low dose of THC. They advertise that it does more than just keep things up. 'Guaranteed to give you the ultimate pleasure,' they say.
Jisung shrugs, watching you with a miserable expression. “I was curious if it would make masturbating feel different, better maybe? I mean it did the first 6 times. Wah! The orgasms were fucking mind blowing y/n.” He smiles and chuckles.
"Ji, oh my god! Ugh, have mercy on my ears bro." Both of you burst into laughter, but then you notice Ji wincing in pain. Your mood quickly shifts from playful to genuine concern.
"It hurts that much?" you ask, feeling awful that he's so uncomfortable.
He nods weakly, “It's not even just my dick but my balls feel so fuckin’ heavy. Like they're literally going to rip from my body.”
You cringe inwardly, fingers pressing into your ears as he launches into yet another one of his oversharing moments. His lack of filter has always been a trademark of his, but that's just Jisung being Jisung. After being friends since grade five, it's like he's incapable of holding back anything with you. You remember the day he lost his virginity, he texted you literally right after. His excitement was evident even through the phone. As a joke you got him a cake in the shape of the letter ‘V’. That was in highschool and his habit of sharing way too much is still going strong in your twenties. Only difference is this time his oversharing is doing things to you.
The dampness between your thighs, well, that's just gotta be a coincidence, right? I mean, it's not like the sight of your long time buddy sporting a hard-on is doing anything for you. It's more than likely just the frustration of being on a three-year dry spell. Yeah, that's gotta be it. It's definitely because you haven't been fucked in a long time and not Jisung himself. You give your head a shake, dropping your hands from your ears with a wry smirk.
"Ji, we've really gotta do something… before it gets worse. You don't want it to fall off." You tell him jokingly, trying to keep the mood light but you're feeling worried all over again.
"Yeah, yeah I know. You're right, but what are we supposed to do? I've tried everything, even beatin' it 11 times, and still no luck.” He says, sounding so casual about his masturbatory activities.
You let out an embarrassed groan and fall back dramatically onto the floor, while Jisung lets out a pitiful whine. You grab your phone and start searching for home remedies but after an hour of scrolling, you're still at square one. Not a single remedy seems feasible. Leeches? Nah, no way. As if either of you would go near those slimy things. And some tea from a self-proclaimed witch sounds sketchy as hell. Plus, she's halfway across the globe. It would take forever to get here, if it even would. Jisung hasn't had any luck either. Every twenty minutes You hear him curse under his breath and run his hands through his hair. You two are running out of options, and as time passes, you start to feel more and more useless.
"Y/n," Jisung whispers your name after another forty minutes of searching, his voice hesitant.
You look up at him, doe eyed and innocently chewing your lip. “Hm? What's up, Hannie? Did you find something?” With a strained grunt he nods in response looking at you intensely.
“Fuck, shit.” He mutters under his breath, almost like he's talking to himself. “My dick... It won't go down without…”
“Ji what is it? You're freaking me out. Without what?” You scramble up onto your knees and crawl over to the bed, inching closer to him, eyes full of concern.
Jisung looks like he's in absolute agony watching you crawl over to him. His emotions are all over the place, you can practically feel the tension radiating off of him when you reach the bed. His eyes are like flames, burning far too hot when he looks at you. You can see the struggle written all over his face like he's fighting with himself.
“Y/n, you're making it harder,” Jisung breathes out, his voice husky and balling his hands into fists as he tries to keep his composure.
You sit beside him scrunching up your face and like the good friend that you are, you place a comforting hand on his knee. Jisung's breath catches in his throat and a flush creeps up his neck when you touch him making him suddenly feel lightheaded.
"What do you mean 'making it harder'? I'm here trying to help you, remember?” You say, your voice soft and tinged with hurt. The pain in your voice and eyes catches him off guard. He's stammering, suddenly aware of how his words might've come out wrong.
He didn't mean for it to sound bad. You're the last person he'd ever want to hurt. But today, everything you do just seems to set him off. He's been trying so damn hard to push his feelings aside. But it's like having you in his room, despite you being here a million times before, it's messing with his head. He can't think straight. You've always been stunning to him, and yeah, maybe he's entertained some inappropriate thoughts about you in the past, but that was only once. Maybe it's the pill messing with his head but you’re making it impossible for him to focus on anything but you.
“N- no I mean, I’m grateful you're here, really love. You're the only one who can help me. I just mean… you're making it harder. Ya know?” He stammers, licking his lips nervously. He nods down once looking down at his lap before back at you and bites his lip feeling embarrassed. Your eyes flick down to his shorts and go wide when you understand.
"What? How?!" You glance down at your outfit. His black hoodie with the paint splatters that you borrowed a few days ago, paired with simple black leggings. Nothing revealing, yet you're somehow making his cock even harder than it already was.
"You're over there moaning and then you start crawling towards me on all fours. I mean, come on, how could anyone not get turned on by that? Shit!" He chuckles nervously, feeling his heart racing. He hides his face in his hands, laughing, and murmurs something when you giggle.
"You're such a perv, Ji." You tease, still chuckling as you playfully pry his hands away from his face. "Now try that again. I'm not fluent in mumbles, sorry.”
“I said… I just read that it won't go down without intercourse. Bro, I don't exactly have a girlfriend. I'm so fucked.” He sighs, sounding completely defeated.
Your smile falters when you see just how miserable he looks. It's been a while since he was last in a relationship, that was true. Probably a little longer than you, about four years now. His last one ended when she demanded he choose between you and her. She couldn't stand the fact that you would spend the night in the spare bedroom where Jisung, Chan, and Changbin recorded their music, dreaming of making it big someday. Jisung ended things with her on the spot; he wouldn't be with someone who couldn't accept his friends. Apparently she had issues with Minho too, which was probably what really did it for him. But somehow, you can't shake off the feeling that their breakup was somehow your fault, that his single status is on your shoulders.
“I'm sorry Hannie. We'll um, we can figure something out.” You reassure him, innocently rubbing his knee.
Without thinking much, your fingers gently glide over his skin comfortingly, feeling the tenseness in his muscles. He's so stressed. It breaks your heart seeing him like this. You don't know what to do right now other than offer him comfort. There are no answers or solutions that you can think of to give him. All you can do is show him that you're in it together as always. You start rambling on about how you two are both probably freaking out for no reason and that everything will be fine soon. But as your fingers continue to move in innocent slow circles, Jisung starts shifting. It goes unnoticeable by you so you keep talking. It's all nonsense really, delving into something completely random and off topic in an attempt to distract him from the issue at hand, only Jisung isn't processing a single word you've said. He's far too focused on your hand.
The moment your hand landed on his knee he prayed you wouldn't move it, he prayed you would. He tried so hard to focus on anything other than the heat and softness of your hand on his bare skin. It's too much though and his mind starts to quickly wander. He freezes and tries to focus on your voice but it's impossible. Jisung can't stop the thoughts that his mind creates or the images that begin to come into focus. He's imagining your hand sliding up his thigh until it's slipping under his shorts. He can almost feel it happening, his sudden daydream becoming so vivid. In his mind's eye he can see you take him into your hands, feel you stroking him until he's a mess and spilling all over your fingers. He's fighting his demons and you're oblivious to it all. You just continue to talk all while the sensation of your hand is driving him up the wall. He can feel the sudden familiar tightening in his balls and he panics. He can't get control of his body, not with the drug still in his system.
His hand quickly comes down covering yours, stopping the gentle caress to his knee. His intense brown eyes look darker when they stare into yours. His lips slightly part and his breath starts coming out in uneven quiet bursts. The warmth of his hand seems to grow hotter, becoming slightly sweaty against yours and your heart starts pounding in your chest. You feel the subtle shift in his body beneath your touch and his legs tense up as he lets out a soft, involuntary grunt. Jisung's gaze burns into yours with an undeniable intensity that makes air feel thick and your cunt slick.
Is he about to?
You glance down at his shorts and his cock pulsates underneath. You stop breathing when realization hits you. He’s going to cum, right here, right now, all while holding your hand and looking at you. He's leaking so much precum it's noticeable even in the black fabric. A wicked scene flashes through your mind, of you sinking to your knees to taste him, taking his fully clothed cock into your mouth.
"Ah, shit! Mm!" Jisung's moans slip out and his breathing escalates as he starts to tremble all over. "Y/n," he pants out. Your name rolling off his tongue, making your whole body flush as his orgasm quickly builds, like you're the cause of it. "I... oh, shit. I'm... sorry, fuck. I can't... Help it. I'm cumming. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck!”
His grip on your hand tightens and he takes a deep breath before letting out a long low moan. You're left speechless, eyes fixed on Jisung's face as he cums in his pants. His hips move instinctively upwards, as if he's fucking some unseen entity and you can't help but find it incredibly hot. It's possibly the sexiest thing you've ever witnessed and now you're more turned on than you were to before.
His orgasm hits him hard, and you can feel his muscles tighten when he lets go. Warmth spreads through your body and it's impossible not to miss the way his release seeps through his dark shorts. The fabric quickly becomes wetter as his seed flows out in thick, white strings. His cock, still concealed and hard beneath the dampness, slows its wild twitching and stills.
“God, I'm sorry y/n. I don't know what came over me. Your hand... It felt incredible and it just happened. It was like the pill ramped up the feeling.” He apologizes, letting go of your hand. His heavy breathing slows and cheeks flush with a mixture of arousal and shame.
“It's ok Ji, I understand. You don't have to apologize. I wasn't thinking. I'll uh, get you a change of shorts.” You start to get up and head towards his dresser but he catches your wrist. He looks up at you with those brown sugar boba eyes of his making you shift.
“Tell me what you're thinking, y/n. Please? I'm going crazy thinking I'm weirding you out. Be honest with me please, lovely. Please?” He pleads with you.
You sigh and sit back down beside him and almost moan when the seam of your leggings rub against you. Seeing Jisung cum right in front of you, has your body feeling ultra sensitive. You're so on edge as if you've taken an enhancement pill yourself.
"I'm not weirded out, trust me," You confess, your voice low and filled with something more that you try to hide from him and yourself.
"Then how do you feel? You've gone quiet on me." Jisung probes, daring you to reveal your feelings.
“I feel fine Ji.” You say and look at his closet door. It's wide open and his clothes are all over the place inside like a tornado went through it.
“Bullshit y/n. I can tell when you're lying. You never look at me when you lie.”
Sighing you look him in the eyes and your mouth suddenly goes dry. He's not going to let this go until you fess up to him. He'll drill you with questions until you crack and that will probably make things more awkward than it already is. You don't really have a choice but to be transparent with him like you normally are.
“I'm,” You start, only for your words to trail off into a mumble.
“What was it you said earlier y/n? I'm not fluent in mumble?" He smirks, feeling so damn proud of himself and you roll your eyes.
“Ugh, fine. Fine, okay. I'm… horny. There, satisfied?” You admit red in the face. You look away fiddling with the sleeve of Jisung's hoodie.
"What else?" His voice, steady and resolute.
Your head spins back to him, caught off guard. "What else?" you echo loudly in shock. "Isn't all that enough?" He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips, as if he knows something you don't.
"Nah, not when I can feel you holding back," Jisung teases, leaning closer. "We're always so open with each other, but right now, there's something you're not saying."
“I…” You let out a defeated and frustrated sigh. “You turned me on.” You whisper. “The sight of you cumming. The look on your face, that fucking moan, Jisung. The way your cock bobbed from inside your shorts when you… damn it. It fucking made me wet. I've been wet since I walked in here!” You're practically yelling now, breathing heavily after releasing all your pent up feelings and he just smiles and chuckles.
“That wasn't so hard was it?
“Yes,” You say with a huff. “Yes, that actually was pretty damn hard.” You go to cover your face but he stops you.
“Don't be embarrassed, sweetie. I think that's a normal reaction. Sorta like watching porn.” He replies, chuckling.
“I suppose… but it doesn't really help your situation though.” You say feeling mortified.
The room goes quiet for a minute, the pair of you at a loss for words until Jisung breaks the silence.
“Maybe it can?”
You give him a look, raising an eyebrow in his direction. His cheeks flush and he raises his hands in a surrender gesture, palms facing outward, “Hear me out. It doesn't have to be weird. We'd just be helping each other out. You wouldn't be horny anymore and I wouldn't be hard and in pain. You're my only hope.”
“Are you suggesting that you and I… fuck?” You ask gesturing between you both. He groans in half pain, half pleasure at your words and your face heats again matching the blush on his cheeks.
“Please? Please let me fuck you y/n. Shit I know we're friends, it won't mean anything. You'd be literally saving my life. It's torture being like this. Every twitch, every movement I make… it fucking hurts like hell.” He begs, sounding desperate.
Jisung's question hangs in the air and you find yourself unable to respond. Silence ticks on for only a few seconds but to Jisung it feels like an hour. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration and huffs.
"Fine, then," he grumbles, breaking the silence again. "Can you at least help me get into your car so we can go to the hospital then?" His voice is rough, but there's an underlying vulnerability to it.
Still you stay quiet, his pleas echoing loudly in your mind. He's begging for your help and you can't speak. You're torn between wanting to be there for him and the fear of the aftermath. It's never a good idea to sleep with a friend. God, how many times have there been movies portraying that, only for it to go wrong? Too many, that's the answer. You're already feeling things that you wish you weren't. This could ruin your friendship with Jisung. This isn't just a peck on the lips. You'll be far closer and far more intimate than you two have ever been. So your hesitation is valid but Jisung is losing his mind and panicking more than you are right now.
“What the fuck y/n? Are you really ignoring me right now? Look, I'm sorry I asked. Just forget it and hel-”
"Promise me," You cut him off, "Promise me that we'll pretend like it never happened."
"Absolutely, yes. I promise!" he agrees eagerly, his face lighting up as he reaches for the drawer in his bedside dresser.
Curious, you watch as he rummages through the drawer's content. "What are you up to now?" you ask, sounding amused despite the fact that the little voice in your head is screaming at you.
"Looking for a condom," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he looks over at you.
You chuckle, shaking your head. "Dude, even if you find one, it's probably expired or dried up. When was the last time you got some ass?"
"Oh yeah right, good point—wait! It hasn't been that long!" He whines.
Laughing, you playfully cover your mouth. "Uh huh, sure. Besides, you gave your last one to Chan a while ago, remember?"
“Shit, you're right. Now what?” He pouts looking disappointed.
“Just raw I guess. Don't really have a choice. We both know we're clean and I'm on the pill.” You shrug nonchalantly like the idea is whatever to you but your heart is beating a thousand beats per second and you're internally freaking out.
Jisung swallows hard, looking nervous in your direction. “You uh, you sure?”
“Yeah let's just do it before Bin and Chan get back. Shit would be really awkward if they caught us.” Your voice betrays your false confidence, shaking as nerves wrack your body.
“Yeah, good point” He replies with a nod, suddenly looking serious.
This is serious to him. This isn't exactly how he envisioned his weekend starting. Jisung's heart pounds hard, his palms sweating as he stares at you. Amidst the anxiety he's feeling about this, he's oddly happy. He feels lucky knowing you’re here willing to cross boundaries for him. Not everyone would do something like this for a friend, but you're different. You always have his back no matter what crazy mess Jisung finds himself in.
Despite the fucked-upness of it all, Jisung can't deny the excited flutter in his stomach. The thought of having sex with a friend is enough to give anyone major anxiety but he's surprised how well you both are dealing with it. Still, fear sits at the back of his mind. What if this changes everything? What if it ruins your friendship? This is a big deal. He's seen it play out in movies and dramas all the time and not once had it turned out well. He doesn't have a lot of options though. You're quite literally his only hope like he told you.
Jisung gets up carefully, giving you full access to his bed and watches you as you strip down to nothing. Embarrassment fills you as his mouth hangs open, in complete fascination and awe. He thinks you're unstoppable, the way you're confidently undressing like that. He doesn't know you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. His eyes find your breast and he mentally marvels over how hard your nipples are. He suddenly wants nothing more than to slip the peaks into his mouth and bite down on them until they're red and you're squirming under him. Your cunt calls to him like a siren, just as pretty and just as wet. His fingers itch to trace the contours of your body, to feel your skin beneath his touch. Every inch of you seems to call out to him.
Jisung shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat as he glances towards the door. "Um, so about the lights... Do you have a preference?”
"You decide, Ji.” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, leaning back into his sheets on your forearms.
With a nod, he walks over to the door and locks it before reaching to switch off the light, enveloping the room in darkness. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. The sun had long since disappeared, hours slipping away unnoticed in trying to find a way to help your friend. A second later, the white walls covered in music memorabilia and anime posters, glow crimson from the light of the LED Akatsuki cloud lamp you gifted him for Christmas.
“There we go.” He says lightly, his voice barely audible over the sound of your heart.
Jisung's trying his best to put you at ease, and you're grateful for it, even if it's not working. You're lying there, heart pounding like a drum, with the soft red glow of his bedroom casting shadows all around. Your breath hitches, nerves tingling as you steal a glance at him by the bedside. Your fingers toy with the sheets' edge and butterflies dance wildly in your stomach. This is risky, but you're only doing it to help him out, right? Nothing more. Yet, there's something brewing beneath the surface, something you're both feeling but haven't quite put into words or even thoughts. Not right now at least.
Jisung casually strips off his tank and tosses it onto his computer chair, standing over you. Even though you've seen him shirtless a million times, it feels different this time. Probably because the setting is more intimate. You can't help but admire the way his muscles are defined, how they seem to mold perfectly to his body. Every contour, every line, down to his slender waist, captivates you. Then, as he lowers his shorts, you find yourself holding your breath, unable to look away. He's got to be a good seven inches you think. Slightly curving upwards, angry and red with the veins ridiculously prominent. You don't even stop yourself from fantasizing about how he'd feel on your tongue. The temptation to reach out and touch him is almost overwhelming, but you hold back, afraid of what it might mean.
“Do you think you can take all of me y/n?” He asks curiously and you look up at him.
His features soften in the dim light. He looks so vulnerable, so unlike the confident guy you're used to seeing. It tugs at your heart, stirring up a mix of emotions you can't quite begin to untangle.
His question, It's not a cocky one. In fact he sounds a little bit self conscious, worried even. Like he's afraid of hurting you or causing you discomfort. As much as you try to not think of him as your best friend right now as a means of psyching yourself out, you can't. He's your sweet Hannie, he's the talented genius J.One, a rap name he created when he was 16. He's your Sungie, who sat with you when you were the new kid in middle school. He needs you… needs your help. What kind of friend would turn away from a friend in need?
"I can handle it, don't worry about me, Ji. Let's just get you back to normal, okay?" You reach out your hand towards him with a subtle tremble exposing your nervousness.
"Yeah, okay, lovely. Just... let me know if you want to stop, okay? Promise?” Jisung exhales, his breath jittery with nerves waiting for your response.
“I promise. Now just relax and fuck me.” You whisper.
“Fuck. Yeah, okay.”
He moves closer to you, placing his hand in yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you. The worries and hesitations you had vanish, replaced by a strong need to take care of this for him, to ease his pain. You feel the heat emanating from his body as he positions himself between your legs, gazing down at you with wide eyes.
He chews on his bottom lip and wraps his hand around the base of his cock with a hiss. He's still sensitive from the pain and his recent orgasm but he lines himself up with the entrance to your core, noticing how your arousal glistens in the red lights.
“Do you normally get this wet y/n?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious tilting his head to one side.
You hide your face with your hands, inhaling deeply. It's like you're a virgin all over again and this is your first time. You're nervous out of your mind and he's asking you a question like that. He's just curious, sure, but... he's Jisung... Your pulse pounds in your ears, and you slowly lower your hands. His eyes meet yours, and you can see everything you're feeling reflected in them.
You swallow hard, “Honestly, no. I've never been this wet, Jisung. Not even for myself.” You tell him, keeping eye contact so he knows you aren't lying.
“Fuck, that's hot.” He whispers. His cock twitches and rubs along your folds. “Ah, shit.” He winces and moans at the contact, feeling his cock stiffen even more beyond his belief.
Your body jerks at the unexpected touch, causing you to inhale sharply. His fingers lightly graze the curve of your waist, as if he's afraid you might vanish at any moment. His eyes, intense and penetrating, hold yours captive and heat pools low in your belly. Jisung's touch sends a shiver all over your body when his fingertips slowly begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Suddenly it's hard to deny just how bad you want him.
“Han Jisung if you don't stop stalling and just fuck me, I'm getting dressed and calling Chan.” Your breath comes out in short, shallow gasps. That brush against you was too much and not enough. You want him. God, you want him so bad it's almost painful.
“Okay, okay sorry. I'm just nervous. Fuck, I feel like a virgin all over again.” He says voicing your earlier thoughts out loud, making you both laugh loudly.
It feels almost normal. Like you're not about to let sleep with your long time friend. Like he's just above you now because you were wrestling for the remote. But after the laughter subsides, Jisung gathers up his courage and pushes the tip of his cock inside you without any restrictions. You're so wet that he slides right in. You both let out a moan, the sound echoing off the walls of his room, enveloping you in an intimate bubble. In the dim light, the boundary between friendship and something more blurs, and you find yourself swept away by the growing need. Jisung can feel his heart beating harder in his chest as he loses himself to the sweet feeling of you around the tip of him. A growing need intensifies within him with every passing second. He's got just the head in and he wants to slam into and cum right now.
"More. Keep going," you whisper, your voice quiet and dripping with lust. He bites down hard and complies slightly hesitating. Slowly he pushes further inside of you.
Your fingers tremble as they brush against his arms as he steadily inch by inch presses forward getting deeper, drawing moans out of you that could be heard from Pluto. It takes all of Jisung's focus to slide his entire length into you. He didn't want to cum just from sticking the tip in. But with each thrust into your eager pussy, brings him closer to bursting inside you.
"Fuck.” He breathes out as he fully sinks into you, his hand laying over your stomach gently. With a soft sigh, he leans in, resting his other hand beside your head. You feel incredible and he's reminded of the only moment he fantasized about you. A distant memory flooding back, something he tried to push away ages ago.
You tagged along with him, Chan, and Binnie for a vacation to the beach one scorching summer. He couldn't help but notice the way you looked in that red bikini with the guitar pick pattern. The way it barely covered your tits and ass. The sight made him feel insane. He was thinking things about you that he hadn't ever before. He used the fact that he couldn't swim just to sit in the sand, secretly enjoying the sight of you splashing around in the water. Every splash, every droplet clinging to your skin, it was like a fantasy playing out before his eyes. He imagined plowing into you from behind in the shower, your breast pressed against the shower tiles as you took all of him. Every detail was vivid and intense in his mind. That night, while you peacefully slept beside him in the hotel room you shared, he couldn't shake the images from his mind. Unable to sleep due to the ache in his cock, he pumped himself into his fist while thoughts of you consumed his mind. Guilt filled him but he pushed it aside, chalking it up to normal hormonal desires. It had been years since he even had those thoughts, until now.
Now he's buried deep inside you, all because of a dumb decision to try those enhancement pills. All because he wanted a mind-blowing, toe curling, orgasm. But deep down, he's kinda grateful for messing up. With you beneath him, he can fuck you instead of his hand. It's been too long since he's fucked anyone. He wants to savor this moment, take his time feeling your walls flutter around him since this won't happen again. As the urge to cum fades, he eases out of you, leaving just the head of his cock inside and begins moving again, slowly, teasingly, watching your reaction with his mouth slightly agape. Slowly, he rocks in and out, feeling your tightness gripping him in a way he's never experienced before. It’s better than anything he's felt with his exes. He's in awe of how amazing you make him feel. With a forceful thrust, he drives himself deeper into you, pausing when you cry out in pleasure.
"Damn it, y/n, you feel amazing. Fuck, so good.” he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Can I... Can I go faster? Please, tell me I can fuck you faster, baby. Let me make you feel even better." He begs, grunting softly and shifting his hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, forcing a needy whimper from you.
You bite your lip, a rush of pleasure flooding your body as you nod in response, too overwhelmed to speak. Your breath hitches, coming in rapid gasps, and your legs tremble around him.
“Thank you, fuck.” He withdraws with a sharp pull, then eases back in hard, making you cry out. “Stop me if I'm too rough, baby. You gotta tell me sweetie. Can you do that?”
You nod, but that's not quite what he wants. Jisung wants to hear you, no, needs to hear you. His hand moves, brushing against your skin until he finds your nipple, teasingly taking it between his fingers. Your breath catches as he pinches it gently and rolls it slowly between his thumb and index finger. He feels your body react, your walls tightening around him when you whimper softly.
"Oh!" You gasp, unable to control that blissful feeling of pleasure that runs through you. He does it again, a little harder this time. The corner of his mouth lifts into a cocky grin when you arch your back.
“Yes Ji! Fuck, I'll tell you.” Your eyes close and you grip the blankets on the bed in tight hands.
“Thank you y/n. God you're the fucking, mm! You're the best. Knew only you could help me. I knew you'd take care of me.” Jisung whispers, gripping the sheets by your head tight, his fingers curling around the fabric and sliding himself back into you. The bed creaks beneath you, echoing his movements as he fucks you harder. “Knew you'd make me feel good,” He murmurs, his voice thick with sex. "Tell me, y/n, does that feel good? Does my y/n feel good because of me? Tell me baby.”
Does he always talk like this with everyone he's been with before? You wonder and you realize he's way more experienced than you imagined. The thought makes you jealous but the feeling doesn't last. Each push of his cock inside of you pushes that green eyed demon out of your mind.
His voice, smooth like honey, drips with sweetness, coating you with each word he utters. The way he speaks to you only makes you wetter and you're craving him more. He's not holding back anymore, lost in the moment where all that matters is pleasure. Yours, his… you both need more. He's not waiting for a response; he knows you're speechless, your words stuck in your throat, your silence speaking volumes. With one hand supporting himself, he cups your breast, teasing and massaging the flesh, making you squirm under him before taking your nipple into his mouth. A low, guttural moan escapes him, reverberating through you body. You moan passionately, feeling the heat of his tongue against your skin. When he gently bites the hard peaks of your nipple your body arches into him and your left hand cradles his head.
Jisung inhales deeply, and your scent envelops him, drawing him in with its intoxicating allure. "Damn, you smell so good," Jisung murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips and his heart literally skips a beat in his chest.
He swore nothing would change, but his heart rebels against that weak promise. Every day, he'll crave you more. Every glance, every touch will only intensify the want for you. The need to have you will only grow stronger. Your hands are all over him now, leaving invisible imprints that seem to penetrate straight to his heart. He finds himself addicted to your nails grazing his skin, the way your fingers weave through his hair, pulling him in closer to you with each tug.
Feeling his body pressing against yours, every movement sends waves of pleasure through you. Your hips respond to him, moving in sync and the sensation of his cock against your sweet spot makes you gasp softly. With each grind, the warmth grows blazing inside you. Jisung pauses, his lips leaving your nipple, and gazes down at you, his tousled hair framing his face in a way that makes him look irresistible in this moment. There's a silent shift between you that makes it harder to breathe.
"Close, aren't you, y/n?" he pants, a teasing grin playing on his lips. Something inside you explodes and a surge of electricity courses through you. It's not just the impending climax that has your insides uncoiling; but from that look he gives you. It's overwhelming in the best way possible. You feel like you're free falling through the clouds.
"Almost, Ji. So close," You breathe out softly.
"Yeah, baby, me too," He murmurs, his words laced with urgency. “I need you to come first. I'm gonna pull out." You shake your head and cling to him tighter, not wanting him to stop.
"Cum inside me, Sungie. Just keep going. Harder, Ji. Right there. Fuck!" Your voice grows louder with each word.
"Are you sure, y/n?" he asks, and when you nod, he grins at you. "Gonna give you all of me, baby. Fill you up real good. Gonna make a mess." He trails off with a soft curse. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he adds, his voice becoming more raw, his desire evident in every breath. "You feel so good, y/n. So fucking good."
Jisung's hips buck wildly, thrusting faster and you scream his name, pleading with him to not stop, to not hold back, to fill you up. He's trembling, his breath coming out in ragged grunts as he pounds his cock into you, driving deeper with every thrust. Your body tenses up, and you manage to gasp out that you're about to cum just before it hits you like a tidal wave. And when it hits, fuck, it's like fireworks go off behind your eyelids. The most explosive sensation you've ever experienced.
“Gah, y/n! keep cumming, just like that. Y/n, you're gonna make me cum. So tight. Yeah, keep squeezing me with your pussy. I'm gonna cum. Oh, fuck, oh fuck, I'm cumming baby." He moans, his voice strained with pleasure.
You feel it deep when Jisung cums. It jets out in spurts forcefully, filling you and the sensation rips another unexpected orgasm from you. His thrusts slows to a gentle pace, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm until your muscles relax around him. With a shudder, he finally stills, collapsing onto you panting, his weight supported by his forearms. Cupping your face in his hand, he looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and longing in his eyes that makes you feel indescribable.
Your soft moans and the way you're clinging on to him, gives him a different sort of pleasure. Just knowing he's the one making you feel good, is a heady feeling, one that makes him want to hold onto this moment longer. But it's done and over now and he feels disappointed that such an amazing feeling, like being nestled inside of you, won't happen again.
Jisung's heart is pounding in his chest as he moves his face closer to you. His impulses taking over, "Can I kiss you?" he breathes out, voice shaky looking down at you.
You give a hesitant nod, feeling suddenly shy despite what just happened between you two, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. It's gentle, soft, sweeter than you expected. He doesn't use his tongue, unsure if you'd even want him to but he couldn't resist the urge to kiss you. The way you looked up at him, so pretty with those heavy lids and his cum dripping out of you… he just had to taste your lips, just once.
When he goes to pull away, you grab onto him, pulling him back and deepening the kiss. Your lips part, inviting him to explore you with his tongue, which he eagerly does. Your muscles tighten, and you realize his cock, which had been softening earlier, is now growing harder inside you. You gasp, intending to let him know it worked but before you can, he starts moving again and your gasp turns into moaning. There's no need for you two to keep having sex now that his erection can go away but you don't stop him. This time it's not just about relieving his pain or a means to an end, it's about something more. You both feel it, the change that he promised wouldn't happen, only you don't seem to care. No, you encourage Jisung to keep moving, to go deeper. You part your legs for him even more, letting him have all of you and surrender to the feelings pulsing through your body. It's all so new, these intense emotions you've developed for him.
Jisung's movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust unhurried. His cock slips out leisurely only to ease back in, a rhythm that makes you ache for more. More speed, more friction, more everything. You want to beg him to move faster, but the intensity of his stare leaves you feeling tongue-tied. In this moment, you're the epitome of beauty to him. Your unfocused gaze, your neediness, it's all so intoxicating, urging Jisung to continue his languid movements. He watches as your eyes struggle to focus, blinking several times before locking onto him once more and he loves it. It's as if each blink only deepens the desire he has for you.
He’s amazed that you're letting him continue to fuck you, even though there's no real reason to keep going. But damn, your body has him hooked already. You're spoiling him for any other girl he might end up with, unless... No, he won't let himself go there. He can't think of you as his, not after the promise he made. Still, he craves more of you in every possible way. Jisung's body trembles as he enters you, feeling your muscles tighten around him, and it brings a grin to his face knowing he can coax another orgasm out of you. He wonders how many can say they were able to make you cum multiple times. Did they take care of you like him? He thinks cockily. With a grunt that mingles with your soft moans, he thrusts harder, pushing deeper into you, feeling the tightness around his cock. It's a rhythm of in and out, urging his cock deeper, with nowhere to go.
Did any of your past hookups take their time like this? Fucking you nice and slow, or were they all just in it for a quick nut? Not Jisung, though. He could never, would never just fuck you for his own satisfaction. Your pleasure matters to him. It's what does it for him. He gets off on seeing you lose control because of him, on making you feel good. He doesn't even need to be buried deep inside your cunt to cum. He'd cum in his pants again fingering you or while you rode his face. Just the thought of you cumming on his face is enough to make him explode right now. The sounds you make, your touch, they're his undoing. That's why he came so hard earlier when all you did was caress his knee. He knows that now.
He's finding it impossible to hold back anymore, despite wanting you to cum first. He can't though, not when you gently place your hand on his cheek. That simple touch pushes him over the edge, and he pours himself into you with a raw moan, unable to control himself any longer. His legs shake, his toes curl, and he experiences an intense orgasm, far beyond what he had hoped the pill would give him. But it's not the pill—it's you. He knows it's you.
Watching Jisung cum inside you for the second time, you feel yourself reaching your own orgasm. With soft gasps, your cunt shudders around him. The look on Jisung's face when he cums is easily becoming addicting to you now. You could probably cum just by that look alone. It's like he's lost in the moment, completely taken over by pleasure. His face scrunches up, brows knitting together, round cheeks puffing out with each deep exhale.
You both lie there catching your breaths, quiet and completely still. His cock's still buried inside you, keeping you close. Your eyes lock, taking in every little detail of each other's faces while you both catch your breath. He could stay like this forever, your pussy snug around his cock, and he would've. Only if the sudden sound of the front door swinging open and Changbin shouting about pizza didn't burst that private bubble. It startles you both. So much so that Jisung jerks out of you with a loud pop and scrambling to his feet, making you squeal in surprise.
"Shit, do you think they heard that, Ji?" you whisper hastily pulling his sheets over your body. He shoots you a glance from across the room, a grin spreading across his face. He loves that post sex afterglow radiating from you. You've never looked hotter than you do right now, all sprawled out and naked in his bed.
“Nah, I think we're okay for now. They might just think we're taking a nap like we usually do after binge watching something.” He tells you. “We should probably get dressed in case though.” You nod and when you go to get out of the bed, he stops you. “Wait, lay back. It's my mess, let me clean it up. It's the least I can do for you.”
"Alright..." you murmur, settling back onto the bed with the blanket draped over your chest, your legs parting invitingly for Jisung. Your eyes drift to the ceiling, as you await his touch, but he hesitates. "Ji, what's—"
Your words catch in your throat as you feel the brush of his hair against your thighs and his mouth on you. "Oh, God, Ji. Fuck, that's not what I had in mind," You gasp out just as he flicks his tongue over your clit.
He glances up at you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, his lips glistening with a mixture of your shared juices. "Do you want me to stop, baby? I've got the towel right here," he offers, his tone teasing.
Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, pleasure pooling low in your belly. "No, don't stop," you urge softly, your voice laced with need. "Keep going. Please.”
You collapse onto the bed, feeling his head sink between your thighs. His lips and teeth graze your inner thigh, and you bite the sheets that are tightly balled up in your hands, trying to stifle any noises that might alert Chan and Changbin. When Jisung plunges his hot tongue inside of you, eating his cum and yours from your cunt like it's a five star gourmet meal, you almost let out the most pornographic sounding moan from the twirling motion of his tongue. You grab a pillow with quick hands covering your mouth so that it muffles your moans and cries.
He makes quick work in giving you another orgasm with that wicked tongue of his. You would've gladly returned the favor too if he didn't already cum in the towel that was supposed to be used for you. His mouth stayed locked on your clit while he moaned and pumped his cock into the towel. The vibration of his lips making you forget all about that thing you keep stashed in your bedside drawer at home. Yeah, Jisung eating your pussy like he was starving definitely didn't need to happen either but you're not complaining.
After getting dressed and making sure Chan and Changbin wouldn't notice anything odd, you and Jisung joined the duo and settled in for pizza, beer, and a movie. The TV casts a soft glow as some suspenseful action movie plays, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in a different kind of fantasy world. It's like your minds are synced, both drifting away from the movie. You and Jisung steal glances at each other in the dark living room, only to quickly look away.
Countless times he's caught you looking back in the direction of his room with a blush on your cheeks. He's hard just knowing that you're thinking about what happened and he wonders if you can still feel him like he can feel you. He just wants to say fuck the movie, to grab you by your wrist and drag you back to his room and fuck you again. He was actually worried that you would go through with the promise of pretending like sleeping together didn't happen but sometimes, in this case anyway, promises can be broken.
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What's your favorite song title?Also can you update Sunny and Side's storyline?
Sure! And depends on the band and the mood I'm in, I guess. Favorite by I Fight Dragons is Save World Get Girl or The Devil You Know, by Ludo it's Scare Me or Overdone, for The Matches it's Clumsy Heart or Little Maggots, for Motion City Soundtrack it's Better Open the Door or Give Up/Give In.
I got him, a RED TFP Optimus and a RED G1 Thundercracker off Mercari for a bit over $30 total. Guessing maybe someone selling off an Ex’s collectibles
Sunstreaker added
Can't Finish What You Started Pt 11
Sunstreaker x Reader, Sideswipe x Reader
• There's a new tension between the three of you, almost a physical weight dragging at you, making you more aware of the twins. Keep catching Sunstreaker watching you when you're sketching, sometimes drifting over to sit at the desk, chin on a fist. Staring at you as you draw until you can feel his optics on you. Like right now. “Do you want to draw, too?” Because the silence is starting to get creepy.
• “No.” Venting as you scrunch your little nose at him before returning to your sketching, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the Decepticons taking humans. Or how much you need his protection. You can’t even defend yourself can you? Can’t fight. No natural defenses unless he counts screaming at unpleasant decibels. Tapping a servo against his chin, he reaches with his other hand to pull a sketch you’d abandoned his way to look at.
• “Is there something you do want to do?” You ask with a sigh, because you don’t know what to do with melancholy Sunny. Prefer him standoffish and sure of himself and a tiny bit egotistical. Eyeing his glossy yellow paint, you sit up. “I know you’ve got a polishing cloth hidden on you somewhere,” you say and he frowns until you point at his arm. “Smudge.” And he magically, or at least it is to you despite his attempts to explain subspace storage, produces a rag, hesitating when you hold out both hands. It’s as big as your blankets when he hands it over and you suspect your blankets are just old cleaning cloths. But they’re warm, so you’re not complaining.
• “If I was your size, I wouldn’t be so bossy,” he mutters when you imperiously wave at him to lean his arms on the desk. And then you’re leaning your almost nonexistent weight into rubbing the cloth on his arm in little circles. Surprised at how relaxing it is, almost being lulled by it as he shutters his optics. Has anyone ever taken care of him like this before? He’s always the one worrying over everyone else, taking care of himself. But this is nice.
• You almost don’t notice the rumbling at first and it takes a minute to realize it’s Sunny doing the alien robot equivalent of purring if you had to guess. Biting into the inside of your cheek as you polish the smudges away and listen to the rhythmic, rumbling sound, you study his face. He’s different when he’s but frowning about something, younger somehow. When Sideswipe returns, you shoot him a warning look. For all the good it does. Sighing when Sides flicks his twin in the back of the helm and Sunny almost knocks his chair over lunging to his feet with a growl.
• Grinning and evading Sunny, he glances at you and that’s all it takes for Sunny to get him in a headlock. Struggling as you fold your little arms and watch. Unbothered by their sparring. “How come you’re polishing him?” He pouts, trying to get loose as Sunny growls at him and gives him a shove. “Because your paint is a lost cause just like you,” Sunstreaker says, without any real heat. And as you roll your eyes at both of them, Sideswipe can’t help but grin. Because Sunny had let you help him instead of insisting he could do it himself like he always does. Accepting help from you.
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