#as i attempt to flip my sleep schedule back to nights again

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

Ok. I have a request took me a lot of courage to finally request and shat myself a couple times but anyway! A one shot where choso lives in y/ns dorm with them and he was like doing his hair and kept messing up and gave up and started crying (I FEEL LIKE THATS SOMETHING HED DO THE POOR BOY:() thennnn y/n walks in their dorm and sees him crying and then comforts him and does his hair for him!!

IF THAT AIN'T LOVE THEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS!

synopsis// choso is having an off day.

➚ pairing// choso x gn!reader ➚ word count// 1.4k

contents// frustrated/sad choso? idk just some hurt/comfort in a way! fluff?? could be read as either platonic or romantic doesnt really matter i supposeeee? i think it kinda reads more romantic tho

notes// anon ur actual fucking MIND. i was moved. literally right after reading ur request i opened up my notes and went to fucking WORKKK!!!! anyway sorry its so kinda all over the place but i hope u like it and it lived up to ur expectations!! n also sorry to everyone else for posting a oneshot mid smau its short n cute okay (AND ITS FUCKING CHOSO SO LIKE CMON???) i couldnt help myself !! also the title is lyrics from cupid's chokehold by gym class heroes... okay bye!

Sharing a dorm with Choso was heavenly.

Because of your conflicting schedules, half the time, you rarely actually saw each other. But even when you did, he was the type of roommate to keep to himself; he has his side of the room, and you have yours. Of course, you two talked here and there; he was actually pretty nice company whenever you two were actually in the room at the same time. But more often than not, the only time you would see him was late at night when you were just getting in to go to sleep.

Either way, the point is, you never really saw him around much. Choso was always quick and effective, so by the time you would head back to your dorm after a few of your classes, he would just be heading out or have already left.

Usually, his alarm would go off an hour before his classes, which is ample time for him. He’s done his routine hundreds of times before—doing his hair and eyeliner is practically muscle memory, and at this point he's sure he could do it in his sleep. but not today, apparently. Today his alarm goes off late—half an hour late. Which Choso isn’t panicked by, only slightly frustrated, but it's fine. That still leaves him another half an hour to get ready, so there's still plenty of time given that it only takes him 10–15 minutes to get ready, so it's fine. Everything is fine; he repeats it in his head like a mantra, like if he thinks it and says it enough, he’ll actually believe it.

Choso quickly dresses, then sits at his desk, where a little mirror sits. He sighs as he flips on a lamp and grabs his eyeliner. He doesn’t even have to think about it, instinctively taking the cap off and bringing it to his eye, only for it to crumble as it meets his waterline. Choso cusses under his breath as he blinks, attempting to get whatever fell into his eye out. When that doesn't work, he rubs his eye, only for it to spread eyeliner all across his eye and cheek. He groans, grabbing a cloth to wipe it off with, and once his face is clean, he doesn't even bother trying with his eyeliner again—looking at the time, he’s already wasted more than he wanted doing that. He’ll just do his hair and leave, or else he’ll be late.

Choso stills for a moment, forcing himself to take a deep breath to try and calm the nerves and frustration simmering beneath his skin—it's fine. He nods. Now somewhat calmer, he grabs his hair ties and gets to work… only for one of them to break as he’s trying to put his hair through it. Choso stares at himself in the mirror, eyes narrowed and swallowing harshly, as he desperately tries to ignore the rising heat going to his cheeks.

Whatever.

It's fine.

He’ll just do the other side of his hair...only for the same thing to happen. Choso can actively feel his heart racing—it's pounding against his chest and ringing in his ears—and he’s already too far gone to notice or even stop the tears from falling down his cheeks. He doesn’t really know why he’s actually crying, if he’s being honest. It’s not like this is the end of the world; he knows that, yet he can't stop himself. Too many things have gone wrong, and he’s barely woken up. First, his alarm goes off late, which isn't the most horrible thing within itself, but then his eyeliner crumbles and gets in his eye, and when he tries to wipe it away, it instead smears on his face. Then he rubs his face raw, trying to get it off, and now he can't do his fucking hair because his hair ties suddenly decided to disintegrate and snap in half.

He messily wipes at his tears and tries inhaling deeply for air in a feeble attempt to calm himself the tiniest bit down. It doesn't do anything. In fact, it makes things worse. His tears fall harder, and he’s choking in shallow breaths of air. If anyone walked in right this moment, they’d think something horrible happened, like one of his brothers died. and it's just his luck, or a very obvious lack thereof, when you walk in. Choso immediately starts scrambling to wipe his tears away and hide his face from you as you drop your things in shock—you hadn’t expected him to still be in the dorm, let alone be here crying.

“Holy shit, Choso, are you okay? What's wrong? Did something happen?” You panic, immediately running to his side.

He doesn’t say anything; he just takes in and lets out shaky breaths as he shakes his head, one arm outstretched to keep you at arm's length.

You frown and look around. For what? You’re not sure. Part of you thinks if you look hard enough, you'll find why he’s crying, but all you see are snapped hair ties, a crumbled, unsharpened eyeliner pencil, and a cloth full of eyeliner. That’s when it all starts to make sense. You smile softly at him, who's still hiding his red tear-stained face from you, before you grab his comb and a new pair of hair ties from his desk.

Choso doesn’t know what you're doing when he hears you shuffling around, and he refuses to meet your gaze, filled to the brim with embarrassment at having been caught crying, but his head involuntarily snaps up, looking at you through the mirror, when he feels you start to brush his hair. You're already staring back at him and flashing him a warm smile, not saying a word as you continue to detangle his hair.

“You don't have to do this,” he sniffles, finally calming down enough to say something.

"I know I don't," you shrug. "But I also know it sucks when it seems like nothing is working or going to plan, so..."

"I can do it myself-“

"Choso, just let me do this for you, please.”

He stares at you for a moment, studying your face as if trying to find something, and when he finds nothing but your soft eyes and willingness—your desire—to do this for him, he sighs and nods. You beam and gleefully get back to work on his hair, and Choso finds that he’s no longer embarrassed by being seen crying but rather by the fact he feels like a doll—but the worst part? It's kind of nice.

He likes having someone do this for him with no hesitation; he likes the way your fingers carefully rake through his hair to ensure there's no tangles even though you just combed it; he likes the way you don't tie the ponytails too tight like he usually does, which only results in a pounding headache he can't get rid of; he likes all of it.

He likes all of it so much so that he finds himself closing his eyes in complete bliss, drowning in your gentle touches. You poof up one of his ponytails a bit, ready to tell him you're done, when you look into the mirror and notice his eyes closed, looking like he’s in a whole other world. You can't fight your smile off as you play with his ponytail for a bit longer before slowly wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

“What do you think?” You whisper, your breath softly fanning against his ear.

Choso opens his eyes, surprised to see you pretty much hugging him from behind, yet he doesn't hate it, not one bit. Too caught up about how much he does not hate this; he doesn't respond, and it makes you nervous.

“Sorry… I know they don't look exactly like how you usually do them, but-“

"No, no,” he cuts you off quickly. “They look amazing... Thank you, y/n...”

You smile, happy with his answer, as you untangle yourself from him and stand up. “You should head out now, Choso; you're late.”

He blinks, totally forgetting about class, and hurriedly stands up. "Right, thank you again,” is all he’s saying before rushing out the door.

You giggle slightly before yawning and making your way to your bed, ready for your usual nap, when Choso comes rushing back into the dorm again. You stare at him wide-eyed, and he simply stares back.

You furrow your eyebrows, confused, and are about to ask if he's okay when suddenly he blurts out:

"I wouldn’t mind if you did my hair again.”

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[just-jordie-things]

hii! if you’re still taking drabble reqs i’m in need of secret relationship w/yuta, megumi and toge (but you can add whoever you want honestly ~ )

yes omg now that my tbah series project is wrapped up i can finally get back into drabbles for y'all !! _

OKKOTSU YUUTA

ok you weren't trying to keep your relationship secret at first, things just got out of hand and then there was never a good time to bring it up.

when you and yuuta first confessed your feelings for each other in small whispers during a night you'd stayed up late because sleep was hard when you were a jujutsu sorcerer- you'd been ecstatic. nervous stammering and shy hands brushing against one another turned to bright grins and small kisses. you'd both been so relieved that your feelings were returned and your friendship hadn't been totaled by a premature confession.

and while you were certain those feelings weren't going anywhere, you both prioritized the group dynamic over anything else. your friends would surely be supportive of such an advancement in your relationship, still, you and yuuta agreed to give it a month or two to before breaking the news. just to be sure.

six months had passed. oops.

but it wasn't on purpose! no! you were all so busy, if there wasn't a mission there was constant schoolwork to catch up on, and then there was the whole sukuna's vessel thing, and it seemed that there was just no such thing as 'the right time' so it kinda got put on the back burner, and, well, it's how you found yourself in this situation.

it had been a rare occasion where yours and yuuta's schedules had aligned. he'd just gotten back from a mission and you weren't set to go on one for another week. a week was a blessing in this line of work, so you treated it like a vacation. (even though there was still schoolwork and training, any free time you had you devoted to yuuta)

like right now. you'd invited yourself into his dorm and lounged on his bed contentedly on your phone while he was reading a book. you didn't even speak much to one another. you were just happy to be tucked under his arm and leaning against the same pillow together.

you'd probably been cuddled up together for the last fifteen minutes, occasionally sharing a kiss, or a meme you'd found, when you finally asked him what he'd been reading.

blushing, yuuta lowered the book so you could peer onto the pages. a smile stretches over your lips as your eyes skim the poetry before looking back at him.

"poetry, hm?" you tease with that soft, cruel tone you use that makes him melt for you all over again. "as if you couldn't get anymore romantic, yuu"

he scoffs at the statement, shaking his head rapidly.

"just wanted to try something different-" he tries to defend himself, but you cut him off before he could finish his pitiful attempt.

"read to me"

"really?"

you nod furiously, even turning off your phone and dropping it to your lap so you could give him your full attention. yuuta's still blushing from his neck to his ears, but he couldn't possibly refuse.

he flips a few pages back, mumbling something about finding just the right one, before he clears his throat and softly reads the words aloud to you.

your head falls to his shoulder, your chest warm, your heart full, and you prod yuuta into reading more as you melt into his warmth and comfort.

it had been such a sweet, intimate moment. your happiness from spending time together turned to pure bliss as the poetry fell from his lips so naturally it was as though he'd written the words himself.

saying it had been ruined by the door crashing open wouldn't be right, because nothing could truly take away your current ecstasy, but it had been a shock.

"MUSTARD LEAF?"

you both yelped in surprise at toge's sudden forced energy, too in shock to realize the compromising position you shared on yuuta's bed.

whatever reason toge had shown up for was never really brought up, because as soon as he caught two of his best friends cuddling with a book of poetry held between them, he'd known exactly what he'd stumbled in on, and he was sending out texts to the rest of your friends in an instant, muttering out onigiri ingredients in shock.

it took a lot of convincing to your friends that you hadn't intended to hide your relationship from them. even now, months later, you don't think they believe you.

but they are happy for you :) ___

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

megumi really had to work up the courage to tell you how he felt. in fact, he'd almost talked himself out of it. he'd spent long enough deciphering the feelings himself. he wasn't familiar with the way his heartbeat sped up when you were close to him, or how his ears felt hot when you'd compliment him, or choose him first as a partner.

(honestly, it probably took him, like, months to realize he had a crush on you. gojo probably had to help him a little, against his will)

so imagine how long it took for him to finally do something about. yeesh. go easy on this boy.

when he does pull you away somewhere private and mumble out so many words they're slurring together but they're all so lovely and soft that you figure out exactly what he's saying, or trying to say anyways.

"anywaysijustwantedtotellyou," his words pick up in pace when he comes to his conclusion, the reality of his confession making his embarrassment grow. "youdon'thavetosayanything"

you grab his hand and squeeze it gently, conveying your appreciation through action, because your first words are a bit confusing.

"we probably shouldn't tell anyone," you say in a hushed voice. "at least for a while, i think our friends will be kind of annoying about it, they're kind of annoying like that,"

you're only teasing, judging by the fond smile on your lips, but megumi can't really make out what you're saying. his brows furrow, and his eyes are flickering rapidly between yours, silently asking for further context.

"well, think about it," you prompt, "do you really want yuuji teasing us about going out?"

"going out?" megumi repeats the words softly, almost in disbelief.

"what, did you want to confess and then never do anything about it?" you snort, your nose crinkling as you smile up at him.

megumi thinks his heart is swelling too much. he might need to have shoko check him out. this couldn't be normal. or safe.

"like- like dating? like on a date? together?"

you're giggling, and your hand squeezes his again. he's the cutest thing and he has no idea, you think to yourself. this isn't a new thought.

"yeah, like dating. like on a date. together," you repeat his words, just to tease him a little bit.

"okay," megumi says, and he finally smiles, no, grins, at the idea. he didn't exactly have high expectations when he confessed to you, or any expectations at all. this was definitely best case scenario. "we definitely can't tell anyone," he agrees as soon as he thinks about it for longer than a second.

he couldn't imagine the torture nobara and yuuji would put him through.

or worse.

gojo.

"maybe ever" he adds with wide, panicked eyes.

you laugh again, before standing on the tips of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. like magic, you watch pink spread over the area instantaneously.

(needless to say gojo knows about the shift in your relationship pretty much right away. he does you both the favor of keeping it to himself... for a week) ___

INUMAKI TOGE

it had been pretty easy to keep your relationship with toge a secret. your friendship had always been a rather close one, so seeing physical affection between you two wasn't out of the norm. hugs, light touches, maybe a little cuddling, nothing really changed outwardly to your classmates.

and it had just been easier to keep the relationship private. neither of you wanted things to change. you didn't want to be treated any differently. had you made your relationship public, you probably wouldn't be partnered up as often for missions, and honestly, you and toge were a killer duo on the field.

(you also didn't want panda teasing you anymore than he already did, so that was also a good enough reason to keep it private)

so you two shared your kisses and whispers of meaningless whispers of nothing behind closed doors. pretty much your entire first year. toge's limited speech was actually helpful. it's not like he had to worry about slipping up too much.

it wasn't until a few weeks into your second year that anyone called you out.

of course as soon as itadori yuuji was introduced to the second years, he'd noticed right away. how, you weren't sure. you'd just been standing beside toge- you weren't even touching! but yuuji had caught the way your eyes had met a couple times, sharing silent words, so when introductions were over he'd outright asked.

"you guys are together, right?"

inumaki's eyes went wide, and behind his collar his jaw even dropped. you froze completely, your expression and body unmoving, while all eyes turned to you.

in hindsight, the lack of response from you and toge is probably what made things worse. had you calmly laughed it off and said you were close friends, you definitely could have gotten the heat off of you.

but you were so shocked that yuuji had asked you so blatantly! or that he'd even noticed at all!

maki, panda, and megumi all stood there with their shocked expressions, the longer you remained silent, the more they began to realize that yuuji had called you out in a matter of minutes after meeting you, when they'd all known you for years!

"salmon"

toge is the first to speak, with an affirmative nod to yuuji's question. you're still in a state of shock, even more so now that he's admitted to it.

yuuji, the precious kind of guy he is, just smiles and nods back, thinking you seemed like a cool couple, and was pretty oblivious to the reactions of everyone else.

"what!?" maki screeches when she finally finds her voice.

"for how long?" megumi's question follows.

"does yuuta know?" panda already has his phone in hand, rapidly texting their classmate that was overseas currently.

(with the time change, you don't get yuuta's reaction until hours later, and it's no different than the others)

[yuuta] : i can't believe you guys didn't tell me !! :o [yuuta] : i better get details !! >:( [yuuta] : obviously I always knew [yuuta] : but it's the principle of the thing!!!!!

even after your secret is out in the open, nothing changes much. you and toge are just as affectionate as ever, and your friends kick themselves for not realizing sooner. ___

y'all know i can't add gojo bc there's just no effing way he'd ever keep your relationship a secret. he'd definitely group text shoko and nanami the second you make your relationship official there's a romantic shift in your dynamic.

[cry4mina]

Take Me Back to Eden - Choke Hold - (Part 1)

(Nayeon x fem!reader)

Take Me Back to Eden - Granite - Part 2

Word Count: 4.3k

Fluff/angst/Suggestive moments

Summary: You and Nayeon wake up on a cool fall morning and go about your day until...

Tw: mentions of food, cursing, breasts, vomiting, cheating (?), suggestive, mentions of sex, references to past sexual encounters, birds mentioned literally the first word (I'm not fond birds, ok?), Dahmo are present, Jihyo is here for a minute, scratch marks, bruising, kissing. If I missed anything pls let me know!

A/N: I’ve never posted any of my works before but @saiiidahyunee peer-pressured me (lovingly told me to). Inspired by a few of the fic writers on this site. Feedback always appreciated<3

—

Birds are chirping outside as the sun rises behind the clouds that litter the sky. The air is crispy, the leaves are fading into hues of orange and brown as winter approaches.

The small studio that you called home was always warm and inviting. Though it was a studio, it was quite spacious. Space for an entire living room set and a king sized bed, separated by black folding screens.

Laid in bed, gently waking up to the cool early morning air you felt an arm wrap around your chest lazily with a small sigh following. Your lips curl softly as you realize that your girlfriend, Nayeon, is still sound asleep next to you.

Her warm breath bouncing off your shoulder blades as she dreams. Your heart fills with warmth as the feeling of safety creeps into your chest. Even if you get to sleep in the same bed almost every night, your schedules are very different so moments like these make your heart sing.

You softly flip over to face her, being gentle as you move. You wanted to admire her features as you did most mornings. Light brown hair that’s tousled over the pillow and her face. Her sharp jawline, the shape of her lips and how soft they are, her cute little nose. You admire everything about this woman laying next to you.

Your chest filled with butterflies, reminiscing on all the time you had spent together. Vacations to the states, lazy days at home, cooking dinner together, staying up all night watching scary movies and eating snacks. She was who you wanted to spend all your time with. She was who you were always so ecstatic to wake up next to.

Nayeon’s arm shifted, pulling you closer so she could bury her head in your chest. It was colder than anticipated this morning so the matching pajamas you both were wearing wasn’t enough to keep the bite of fall out.

You complied quickly, scooting closer and allowing her to steal some of the warmth she was responsible for. Her nose was unexpectedly cold against your skin causing you to jump a little. Luckily, she was a semi-heavy sleeper but you were still cautious about waking her.

She was used to most of the creaks and groans around the apartment and any sound that you made but knowing how hard she works, you always wanted to make sure that she slept as peacefully as possible.

You wrapped your arms around her in an attempt to make sure she was comfortable and allowed her to nuzzle further against your chest, in hopes of giving her the same safety she gave you.

She sighed again, sensing your presence. Her body further relaxed into yours, you felt her muscles unclench and her brows unfurrow as you drifted back to sleep in each other's arms.

A few hours later, you awaken to a soft sound in the kitchen. Light humming of a familiar song, along with the brewing of a coffee pot. You take a deep breath and stretch your entire body, groaning at the stiffness.

Nayeon stops humming to see if she heard you wake up, sneaking through the kitchen back to the bedroom so she could peek through the makeshift doorway to see if you had risen from the calm sleep you were in.

Looking over and making eye contact, you can see the smile in her eyes. She runs over revealing the emotion on her face as she launches herself into the bed and onto you. “Good Morning, baby” she cooed as she placed kiss after kiss on your face. You giggled as you teasingly pushed her away, only causing more love to ooze out of her.

She leaned in once more, to attach your lips together for the first time that morning. Her arms wrapping around you like they did in her sleep, you find comfort in knowing that her love for you exists in her subconscious too. Reflecting on how she's always reaching for you and you always wake up with her wrapped around you, no matter how you fell asleep.

“Good Morning, my love’’ you replied in your sleepy voice. She laid her lips on yours one last time before she crawled off the bed again.

You pouted as she left; reaching your hands out as a sign for her to come back to you.

“I promise I’ll be back in 3 minutes with your coffee made perfectly.” Swooning at the idea of such a beautiful girl bringing you “perfectly” made coffee, you smile widely

“3 minutes, huh? I’m going to time you. You’ve got 2 minutes and 25 seconds left!” You hear her belly laugh as she walked out of the room.

Nayeon goes back to humming, but is soon singing to herself in the kitchen. You hear the clinking of mugs and the fridge opening.

The singing stops for a second, only to hear Nayeon whisper “Shit”.

You smile and chuckle from the other room. “Too much creamer again?”

“NO. I just…okay maybe there's too much creamer but i’m going to fix it. Don’t you worry. This will be the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had.”

More clinking follows and suddenly she appears with 2 cups of coffee in your favorite mugs.

“Yay!” as you reach for your black mug with the lovers tarot card on it.

“Ah ah! You’re drinking out of the white one today.” Nayeon’s usual mug. It matches your’s with the colors reversed.

Nayeon places her black mug on the small nightstand on her side of the bed and slowly hands you your white mug. You quickly take a sip and sigh, satisfied with the taste. Nayeon is staring at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to comment on how great the coffee is.

Knowing that that’s exactly what she wants, you shake your head and say “mmm…wow babe this is soooooooo sweet. i think there’s too much creamer” letting out a giggle as she smacks your shoulder, joining you in laughter.

“It’s perfect, baby. I can taste the love.” Her face lights up with that beautiful smile, cheeks flushing bright pink as she sipped her own coffee.

She smacked her lips and winced. Curiously tilting your head and smiling at her “everything okay?”

She licked her lips and nodded her head aggressively. “Yes, my love. Just…really good! I’m going to get a shower going for us. We’ve got a lot to do today.”

She leans in to lay a sweet kiss on your face as you lay back to soak in a few more minutes of the quiet morning. Nayeon leaves her coffee on the nightstand and goes into the bathroom and flicks the light on, not bothering to close the door.

Your eyes feel heavy as you lay on your back, watching the birds in the tree outside your window. The rush of water hitting the bottom of the shower startles you as you sit up again.

Another sip of the coffee polishes it off. Whipping the comforter off of you, you swing your legs over the left side of the bed, sliding your feet into your slippers. You stretch one last time before standing up.

A soft whine can be heard from the bathroom, “Hurry, it’s cold in here without you!” Nayeon shouted playfully as she slipped her pajamas off.

Quickly turning around to head towards the bathroom, you spot her coffee on the nightstand.

“I’m going to bring the mugs into the kitchen and then I’ll be there.” Reaching out to grab the lukewarm mug, you see that there’s coffee still inside. It’s lighter than she likes it. You down it quickly so it doesn’t go to waste.

Your nose scrunches when your tongue catches up to the flavor of the coffee in your girlfriend’s mug. You smile softly when you realize that her coffee is too sweet.

Coming back from the kitchen quickly, you see Nayeon about to step into the shower. You’ve seen her naked many times, it was always an experience.

Your heart would race, your eyes anxiously shifting like you weren’t supposed to stare at the art in front of you. Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to capture the ethereal essence that was Im Nayeon.

You allow yourself to shift your eyes over her, slowly. The curve of her thighs meeting the edges of her hips, smoothly toned stomach ascending into beautiful breasts that had some bruising from a few days ago, smoothing out again to her chest and collarbones.

You hear your heart in your ears and your adrenaline spikes. You feel your body getting warmer as you start stripping your pajamas off. You feel the slick between your thighs as you remember what transpired when those dark marks first showed up.

Your breathing gets shallower as you try to remind yourself that you’ve got a full day ahead of you. You lick your lips as she turns and steps into the shower. She smirks when she sees your eyes following her.

“Admiring your art?” She gives you the same curious tilt you gave her about the coffee, but with an entirely new meaning. You glare at her as you remove the rest of your pajamas and start to step into the shower shaking the thoughts from a moment ago.

As she stands under the shower head, she’s glancing over your body. You’re too preoccupied with fighting the shampoo bottle to even realize she’s admiring her own artwork.

Long dark scratches descending your toned shoulders onto your lower back. As you are trying to shake the last bit of shampoo out of the bottle, you feel her long finger tracing the scratch marks.

“Who’s admiring their art now?” teasingly spills out of your mouth as you get the last glob of shampoo out of the bottle. You victoriously turn to her, split the shampoo in your hand in half, and start to lather her hair.

“We can add shampoo to the list because this is the last of it.” She looks up at you with the softest eyes, swooning at you as you start lathering your own hair.

Nayeon loved the way you took care of her. From how you showered together, to how you would never let her carry anything when you went shopping together. She cherished the intimate moments.

As she finishes rinsing her hair out, she circles around you to scooch you into the droplets, allowing you to rinse the soap from your roots.

Your eyes are closed as you wash your scalp when you feel her arms slowly claim your waist. Her face presses into your neck lightly.

“Nayeonnie” you whine as she starts lightly biting where your neck meets your jaw.

“Don’t we have a lot to do today?” you teasingly point out as she groans, letting up a bit, placing her head on your shoulder as she looks up at you.

“This is so much better though. Maybe we can put it off until tomorrow?” She proposes as she traces your collar bones with her middle and ring finger.

You shutter as she trails those fingers up your neck to twirl your hair. You are weakening at the thought of what you know her long fingers are capable of.

“What if we get it done quickly? We can speed run through our day and get home early. We can even order dinner and watch a movie, if you want.”

She perks up at the thought of laying on the couch, wrapped up in each other, and watching a horrible movie with you. “Watching” a movie, was never actually watching a movie but you always went in with the intention of it. She always had other ideas.

“Fine, I suppose we can do that” She rolls her eyes with a smile as you start washing her back.

Even the boring responsibilities were fun with Nayeon. Grocery shopping, getting an oil change, or doing laundry. None of it was lackluster. In fact, you don’t think you viewed anything as a chore anymore.

Today was no different. You walk down the aisles, she’s throwing every snack you can think of into your cart. You just admire the excitement she has about everything.

Dreamly gazing at her as she throws the newest chip flavor into the pile. “Momo told me these were her new favorites so we have to try them! Oh! Speaking of Momoring, Dahyun and her want to have dinner next week, does that sound good to you?”

You snap out of the dream-like state to agree, it’s been a while since you went on a double date and it would be nice to see them again. Plus, Momo is an amazing cook and having dinner meant she was going to go all out. She does this every month or so.

Nayeon sees the members all the time but you don’t see them as often. You were closest with Momo, hanging out frequently, but had a friendship with all the members. Sometimes Nayeon would sneak you into JYP to watch their dance practice or to watch them shoot a music video. Everyone was always happy to see you.

There’s a mutual love and respect among you and Nayeon’s members. They know how much you adore her and respect that you show up for her in every way she needs, even when she doesn’t know she needs it.

They were apprehensive at first, but when Nayeon walked into the studio the morning after your first date absolutely gushing about how amazing it was, they figured you’d be around for a while. They were protective of their own, and you could understand why. Some people have bad intentions, but you weren’t one of them. You always respected what the members said and were always polite and kind towards them.

They really started to welcome you in after Nayeon got a little too drunk at the end of the tour party they threw. She couldn’t stop talking about you and started crying because she missed you. “I just can't wait to see y/n! I miss her so much. I need to -hiccup- facetime her. Or maybe I'll just call her.” Jihyo looked over at her and her face dropped as she saw how much Nayeon really cared for you.

She asked all the members if they were okay with inviting you to surprise Nayeon. Everyone agreed happily as they didn’t really know you yet, but it was obvious how important you were to their oldest member. JIhyo managed to get Nayeon’s phone away from her to call you. Imagine how surprised you were when the voice on the other end of that phone call wasn’t your loving girlfriend.

Jihyo explained what Nayeon was crying about and you couldn’t help but smile. “I wanted to give you the opportunity to surprise her…and also it would be nice to get to know you, you are obviously very important to her.”

You showed up 15 minutes later with a bouquet of her favorite flowers and in her favorite outfit. When she saw you, she screamed and ran towards you. Almost tackling you into the snow. She kissed your face all over and started crying again. You held her and comforted her. “I missed you so much baby.”

You let your lips meet hers. They were so welcoming after being apart for an extended period of time. She leaned into the kiss, using her tongue to swipe your bottom lip asking for entrance. You lighty allowed it but pulled away after a few seconds.

“We can continue this later but I think it’s time we celebrate a job well done”. Handing her the flowers you got for her and kissing her forehead.

“Congratulations on another successful tour, I’m so proud of you.” She smiled and leaned into you while you went inside.

You find yourself thinking of that memory often. Her most important people welcoming you into their family as if you had already been part of it. It brought you a great comfort to know that they accepted you in a way that you didn’t think was possible.

“What about this one?” Nayeon asked, derailing the train of thought you were just having. You glanced up to see her handing you a bag of chocolate.

“Ooooo dark chocolate this time? You’re full of surprises.” lightly tossing it into the cart.

The next few stops were relatively quick so you were home and wrapped in each other on the couch by 2:30pm. Nayeon put on some reality tv show before promptly falling asleep.

She laid between your legs with her head on your stomach with a fleece blanket pulled up to her shoulders, cradling herself in it. Her light breaths are visible on your shirt as a flicker of emotions come across her face. You wonder what she's dreaming of.

Your hand slips down to lightly play with her hair. Running it between your fingers as she jolts awake from the sudden loudness of the commercials.

Nayeon sits up immediately, throwing her hands down onto your thighs. The sudden action startles you as hands lose the soft sensation of her hair and gains the hard smack onto your thigh.

You welp at the transfer and she immediately apologizes. “Oh my gosh, baby I am so sorry.” As she gave a half suppressed laugh rubbing your thigh as if she could take away the sting.

Suddenly, your stomach growls loudly. You both pause and she looks down at your exposed stomach.

The indent of her earring still visibly red, she kisses it and says “Lets order food, I’ll buy lunch. We can order your favorite. Would you grab my wallet out of my purse, babe?”

She shifts off of you so you can get up and she opens the app on her phone scrolling to find the restaurant.

“Do you want what you always get or do you want to try something new?” she shouted from the couch as you walked to where her purse was in the bedroom.

“Same thing is fine with me!” You turn your head while you speak so she can hear you. Her bag sitting on the chair in the corner, jacket on top of it from your adventure earlier in the day.

You lift the jacket and unzip the top of the bag. Fumbling around for a second through keys, chapstick, eyeliner, a phone charger and whatever else she kept in the void she calls a bag.

You pull the light blue wallet with a rabbit on it, it was a gift you got her for your 2nd anniversary, out and reach for the zipper.

“Which card do you want?” you shout to the living room.

“The red one!” She calls back. You unzip the wallet, looking for the red card in question. There’s a semi-tattered paper folded into threes in the dead center of the wallet. You remove it and place it on the chair.

Your eyes scan down the row of cards, finding the red one and pulling it from its spot. As you reach to zip the wallet back up, you’re reminded of that paper you pulled out of it. You picked it up and read “For Nayeon” in handwriting that was unfamiliar. Curiosity got the better of you as you unwrapped the note to read the contents.

“Dear Nayeon, I’m so excited about the time we’ve spent together recently and I want you to know that I love you so much. The other night was a dream. I can’t wait to have more moments like that with you. With all the love in the world, J”

You freeze. Your chest shatters as you feel the ice cold pins and needles sweep through your body. A wave of nausea hits you as you read it over and over again. You can’t help but feel numb momentarily as your body tries to push the intense emotions out of you. Your hands begin to sweat and your throat dries out.

“Dear Nayeon,” You keep reading it. Searching for clues on who it could be from. “The other night was a dream.” Nausea hits you again. You remember the marks you left on her. Wondering who else admired your artwork. You flicker from distraught, to anger, to nauseous continuously as you realize this means someone else might have touched her the way that you have.

J? “Who the fuck is J?” You say to yourself as you fold the note back up.

Tears falling down your face while you’re trying to keep your composure. The wave of sadness passes into nausea again and then back to anger.

“I need to leave.” You sniffle to yourself. You walk back out into the living room, Nayeon looks over to smile at you only for her face to turn to immediate concern.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Are you okay? You look pale…”

Anger painted on your face, you just stand there. Trying to figure out how to ask the questions you don’t want the answers to.

You feel the saliva collecting under your tongue and your stomach gurgles. You run into the kitchen and lean over the garbage can, releasing the bile that was the only thing present in your stomach.

Nayeon is next to you immediately, hand on your back trying to comfort you. She knows how much you hate throwing up, but who actually likes it? It always induces panic in you.

She keeps rubbing your back as your emotions flashback to anger. You’re attempting to catch your breath when you hear her speaking to you.

“Baby, what happened?” She softly inquires and you pull away quickly from her touch.

You’re repulsed at the thought of someone else touching her the way you thought only you could.

A tension builds within your chest as you choke out “How could you?”

You can see the confusion on her face as you hand her the note along with her debit card she previously asked for. You immediately turn around and grab your keys and wallet off the counter and make your way towards the door.

She opens the note quickly to read it’s contents, her eyes go completely wide as she realizes what you think is happening..

“Wait, Y/n, please stop, this isn’t what it looks like!” You hear the crack in her voice and it only allows the tears to spill from your eyes at a quicker pace.

Betrayal creeps its way into the emotion cycle that you’ve been experiencing the last 15 minutes. You’ve got your hand on the door knob, but can’t quite pull the door to leave. Anger once more flushes your veins.

“Y/n please. Hear me when I say that this isn’t what it looks like, you know that you’re the most important person in my life and I would never do anything to jeopardize what we have.”

You turn your head to look at her with blood shot eyes. Sadness’ part of the cycle takes over. You sniffle and open your mouth to yell but nothing comes out. She takes this opportunity to walk up to you and cup your cheek with her hand.

“Please don’t touch me.” you say softly while looking at the ground. Tears following your stare, hitting the carpet with a thick tap. She removes her hand from your face, she always respects your boundaries. At least, you thought she did…

“Y/N…please look at me” You can taste the despair dripping from her words but you can’t make eye contact with her. You pull the door and walk through the frame, hearing the sound of the door closing behind you as you walk down the hallway.

The sound of the door opening echoes through the halls. You know she can’t chase you because paparazzi would plaster those shots all over every tabloid in the city and she can’t risk that.

“Y/n!” She shouts. You stop for a second, only to wait for the elevator. She shouts your name again, this time laced with anxiety. You still are at a loss for words. Everything is a blur as you step into the elevator quickly and hit the button for the parking garage.

You sit in your car for an ungodly amount of time. Phone in the passenger seat next to you vibrating as Nayeon calls continuously. You ignore the rhythm of the sound next to you as you just stare into the distance. You can’t wrap your head around what’s just happened.

“It’s not what I think? Who would write someone a note like that unless there was something else going on.” You scoff.

You reach for your phone, wait for it to stop ringing, and call Momo.

“Y/n! Hey! What are you up too?” Momo answers her phone, seemingly excited to hear from you. You immediately start bawling your eyes out as you explain to her what just happened. She gasped.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” She exclaimed with audible shock.

“What’s going on?” You hear Dahyun ask in the background.

“Y/n, do you want to come here? Are you okay to drive? Do you want us to come get you?”

You clear your throat and try to compose yourself. A weak attempt, but an attempt. “I can drive.” You whisper.

“Alright, if you aren't here in 15 minutes, I’m going to come out and look for you. Be safe and we love you.” Momo states.

You note the concern in her voice and let her know you’ll be safe and there shortly. Before you can utter another word, she hangs up. Your phone goes back to constantly buzzing with text messages and phone calls from Nayeon. You turn it on “Do not disturb and drive in silence to Momo and Dahyun’s house.

Take Me Back to Eden - Granite - Part 2

[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 22 - Date Night

Making port ahead of schedule leads to an impromptu date. Also, reader lore.

WC: ~3.5k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055

After fleeing from breakfast you'd decided to head back to bed for a nap, given you really hadn't had a lot of sleep, and as comfy as Kid's thighs were for sleeping on, your neck was killing you from doing it. Thankfully you were able to fall asleep on your own, maybe the trick to getting some sleep this whole time had just been resolving things with Killer. Heat woke you for lunch, and afterwards he'd given you a reading lesson. Killer wasn't available to join, after a week of isolating himself he had a lot of work to catch up on.

He did find some time to see you after dinner though, knocking shyly on your partially open door before peering awkwardly around it. He found you in the middle of squinting at a children's book, mouthing the sounds to yourself as you traced the words with your fingertip.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” He asked, backing out a little.

“No of course not, come in,” you smiled, quickly discarding the book, “besides, I promised you cuddles”

He nervously shut the door behind him before removing his mask and sitting it on the side table next to yours. He'd become accustomed to being maskless around you, especially when your own mask was off. Having your whole face available for him to see made him more willing to show his own, and your time together on the island had made him truly comfortable with you seeing his face. You shuffled back on the bed and made space for him between your legs, and he laid down with his back towards you, his head resting against your breasts. You quickly got to work threading your fingers into his hair and scratching his scalp the way you'd learned he liked on the island. He hummed contently as you did it, his eyes closing as he enjoyed your hands on him. If he tried hard enough, he could almost pretend you were both still on the island, not a care in the world, before any of the hurt had a chance to happen.

“This is nice,” you sighed after a while, draping your arms over his shoulders and resting your chin on the top of his head.

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed, “Hey I remembered something earlier though, did you ever read that letter from your mum?”

“Oh!” You reached towards your side table and he leaned forward for a moment so you could reach it. You retrieved the old, worn envelope from the drawer and returned to your previous spot as you handed it to him. “I could probably at least attempt to read it now, but I'd really like it if you did it for me”

“You sure? You don't want Heat to read it for you?” He asked hesitantly.

“I kinda only want you to know about it,” you hummed, resting your chin on his head again, “it kinda feels like our thing”

“Okay, if you're sure,” he replied, carefully threading his finger under the wax seal on the envelope to pop it away from the paper. He flipped up the flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper, a little wrinkled but clean from years of being protected inside the envelope. On it was a handwritten letter, in neat cursive. You were glad you'd asked Killer to read it, cursive was still really difficult for you to decipher. Killer unfolded the letter and cleared his throat before starting to read.

“April 22nd, Our Age of the Sea Circle 1517.

My dearest [y/n],

On this, your sixteenth birthday, I am thankful and blessed to hear that you are alive and well.”

You gripped his shoulder hard, shaking a little as you heard your own name spoken for the first time in over twenty years, a thread of memories flooding back to you. You could see your mother in the garden, hanging out the laundry on a sunny morning, her lilac hair fluttering in the soft spring winds. You were so small, so innocent, you could hear your own laughter in the memory as you ran to her and clinged to her leg.

“I remember…” you whispered, “that name, I remember her calling to me…”

Killer reached up to hold your hand against his shoulder, squeezing it for support as your tears started to fall quietly. “It's dated to 1517, that means you're 27, not 25 like we thought. You're the same age as me”

“Oh,” you said sadly, “that means I was locked up a lot longer than I thought”

“Oh Yin,” Killer said softly, “I'm so sorry. You're safe now, okay? It's all over, nobody can take you again without us burning them to the ground, we're always gonna come for you”

“Mmm,” you replied, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

“Do you want me to start calling you [y/n] instead?” He asked.

“Only when it's just the two of us,” you hummed, “I don't think I'm ready to share it with everyone yet”

“Okay then, I won't tell anyone,” he gave your hand a little squeeze, “do you want me to keep reading?”

“Yes please,” you replied after taking a deep breath. Killer kept one hand on yours on his shoulder but kept reading.

“I think of you everyday, oh how you must have grown by now. The marines tell me you are one of them now, and that your devil fruit no longer ails you. I am so glad, how proud I am of my girl for doing such good in the world.

Do not mourn for me my sweet [y/n], I am still a slave, but I was bought by such a kind family to care for their child. I've been with them these whole long ten years, raising her like my own, a sister you never had, and she will soon be an adult. When the time comes, her parents have agreed to free me, so perhaps we will meet again. You were such a beautiful, joy filled child, I hope one day you will experience such joy yourself.

I hope you are surrounded by love, wherever you are, and know that you have mine, wherever I am. Until that day comes where we meet again, I'll continue to think of you every day.

Your loving mother,

Val Sara”

“So strange,” you said after a long quiet moment of thinking, “I never knew my mother's name. She was always just ‘mum’”

“Well, that's more than I ever knew,” Killer hummed, “and she's out there somewhere, free, by the sounds of it”

“Mmm”

“Do you think you'll ever go looking for her?” He asked.

“I don't think she'd like the person I am now,” you sighed, “I fit in better with murderous pirates than I do with a sweet old lady, I think it's better she not know. And my wanted poster doesn't have my real name, so hopefully she'll never know.”

“Mmm,” Killer agreed, tucking the paper back into the envelope. He turned to his side to put it back on the side table but decided to stay where he was afterwards, laying with his face pressed to your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

“You ever try to find your parents?” You asked him as you returned to scratching his scalp.

“Nah, waste of time,” he replied, his eyes closed in content, “Kid and I have pretty common stories for kids from our island. It was known for gangs and crime, the criminal underworld pretty much ran the place. We don't know the specifics, but given what was normal for the island we can safely assume that they were either prostitutes or were forced, and either way had a kid they didn't want. I ran away when I was seven, I can't even remember her face anymore, just that she had brown hair. She barely took care of me anyway and I was beaten a lot by the men that would come by for her, so one day I just left. I found Kid not long after, he was in a similar boat but it was his mum who ditched him. He was only three, he would have died on his own, so I did my best to look after him.”

“Only three? Jesus,” you said softly, “no wonder Kid has anger issues. Fuck that bitch, and fuck your mum for not protecting you. Slag”

Killer laughed at the out of character insult, “It doesn't matter, Kid is everything to me, I wouldn't go back and change anything. If I hadn't run away I wouldn't have found him.”

“And you,” you poked his arm, “wouldn't have found me”

“That would've been truly awful,” he snorted, “who else would leave invisible whoopie cushions on my chair?”

“Kid made me do it!” You yelped as he pinched you playfully, “It was captain's orders!”

“Like you didn't also think it was funny,” he scowled.

“Okay… maybe a little,” you admitted.

“Mmhmm,” he nestled back into your chest and yawned.

“Do you want to stay here tonight Killer?” You asked, his yawn becoming contagious and making you yawn as well.

“I better not,” he frowned, starting to get up, “I wanna go have a shower anyway, I'll see you at breakfast”

“Okay Kil,” you gave him a peck on the cheek before stretching and getting ready to tuck yourself in, “night”

“Night, [y/n],” he said, putting his mask back on and sliding out the door.

The next day at lunch, Double announced that the wind's were in the ship's favour, and it'd be arriving at the resupply island before sunset. A plan was set in place that tonight would be for entertainment, and tomorrow would be for resupplying. The log pose reset time was inconsequential, since they planned on returning to this island for the reset after visiting the eternal pose island, so for now it was just a quick in and out. The ship was due to leave by lunch tomorrow to set off for what the crew had started referring to as ‘treasure island’. Really not much resupplying was needed, since it hadn't been long since the ship had been docked for three days while you were unconscious (the first two days of your coma having been during transit).

The commanders would also be skipping getting an inn this time round, since the turnaround was so short there wasn't much point, though the henchmen who wanted to have some privacy for the evening would no doubt get rooms. That being said, the higher ups still intended to head to a local brothel when the ship made port. You had no intention of joining them this time, so you'd made plans to see what other entertainment the town had. Maybe it would have a cinema, you hadn't seen a movie since you were a teenager.

“Any plans for tonight?” Killer asked as he climbed up to sit beside you on the figurehead skull.

“I was thinking about seeing a movie, actually,” you hummed, “if the town has a cinema”

“Usually islands with longer reset times have decent entertainment,” he replied, “it's supposed to take five days when we get back from treasure island”

“Oh, nice” you replied, “what about you? I won't fault you if you go with the others. I know we said we were waiting for each other but I don't want you getting blue balls”

Killer snorted at the comment, “Thanks for considering my balls but I think they'll be just fine,” now you were the one snorting, “I was thinking of just finding a nice restaurant, I was going to ask if you wanted to join me actually. We could see a movie after, if you'd like”

“Mister Massacre Soldier, are you asking me on a date?” You squinted.

“Uh, I think so? Maybe?” He said nervously.

“Well in that case, yeah I'd like that,” you replied, “I'll meet you when we dock,” you said cheerfully as you started to climb off the skull.

“Where you going?” He asked curiously.

“Gotta get ready for my big date!” You laughed, skipping away.

To be fair, it was the truth. You spent the next two hours showering, shaving, struggling with makeup, and throwing every piece of clothing you owned onto a pile on the bed in the hopes of figuring out what to wear. The island was a spring one, so that opened up a lot of options since you wouldn't have to dress to stay warm. The night air outside would probably be a little cool but your jacket would probably be enough. You'd also made the decision to forgo your mask, which meant you had to figure out how to do eye makeup. That on its own took a good half an hour.

In the end you settled on a dark purple, thigh length dress that showed off your legs. The neckline was modest and the dress had one sleeve, which conveniently covered the arm where your marine tattoo used to sit, now covered by a well healed burn scar. The dress was made from velvet, so it appeared almost black at first glance, a brighter purple where the light bounced off it. You paired it with a set of strappy black heels and a couple of silver bracelets that blended well with your seastone one. You kept your hair down for once, a rarity since it was easier to wear your mask with your hair tied back in your usual buns.

To finish it all of you had a small purse the saleswoman who sold you the dress had convinced you to buy. You didn't really have anything to put in it, so you just jammed a bag of candy inside to sneak into the cinema later. The purse itself was a simple dark purple circle made with a leather that had lines sewn to give a padded quilt effect, with a delicate silver chain.

The ship had docked maybe ten minutes ago, you'd heard the loud sound of the thick anchor chain unravelling as it was dropped and the flurry of barked orders as the ship was tied to the dock, so you gave yourself two thumbs up in the mirror, took a deep breath, and headed out to the deck. Kid spotted you quickly, his sentence cut short so he could wolf whistle, to which Killer smacked him over the back of the head.

“Have some fucking respect Kid,” he groaned. Killer was dressed nicely as well, in dark tidy jeans and a royal blue button up. You were glad you hadn't overdressed, it would have been a little awkward if he hadn't even changed, but he did say he wanted to find a nice restaurant.

“You two going on a date or something?” Kid eyed you both scrupulously, “what's with the clown suits?”

“Sorry you're allergic to nice clothes Kid, that must be hard,” you stuck your tongue out at him, and he frowned and crossed his arms.

“Whatever, use protection,” he groaned before heading off to bark more orders.

“Protection from what?” You asked Killer, “I thought we were going to dinner, should I go get my sword?”

“We are going to dinner, he was just joking,” Killer sighed, “he meant protection as in like… condoms”

“Ohhhh,” you replied, then stopped dead in your tracks, grabbing his arm, “were we supposed to use that on the island?”

“Don't fret,” he pat your hand and took advantage of it being on his arm to lead you, “I talked to Mohawk when we got back, he said the thing in your arm should be good for another year”

“Okay, phew,” you half heartedly laughed, “cos boy that would be awkward. Not that I would hate having your baby it just would be awkward on a ship”

“Oh? You want my babies do you?” He teased.

“Kil!” You pouted.

“Relax, I'm just teasing,” he rubbed your hand on his arm reassuringly, “let's get some dinner”

The two of you wandered along the waterfront for a short while before finding a nice looking restaurant, filled with happy, well dressed couples. You wondered if the two of you would look the same among them, or if you'd stick out. He led you to the little podium where a hostess was waiting to greet you.

“Any private spaces available?” He asked her, flashing a large wad of berri.

“Yes of course sir!” She replied enthusiastically, “We have a delightful private dining room perfect for a party of two, come right this way” she indicated for the two of you to follow and you continued to allow Killer to lead you. The space she brought the two of you was a closed off room, decorated in dark jewel tones and lit with several large candelabras, it was definitely a romantic atmosphere. She pulled a chair out for you and as you sat placed a napkin over your lap and a menu in your hands, then did the same for Killer.

“My name is Leah, I'll be your server for this evening. Our special tonight is freshly caught salmon, honey-glazed over a bed of seasonal asparagus, and our desert special for this evening is a warm spiced pear served with house-made chocolate gelato. Can I get you anything to drink while you look over the menu?”

The question was mostly directed at Killer, who seemed a lot more confident in this setting than you did. “Two glasses of whatever red you recommend please. Will you be the hostess serving us the entire evening, or will you have someone else bringing us our food?”

“I can be if that is what you would prefer sir,” the hostess replied.

“Good, I require privacy, as you can see,” he gestured to his mask, “so you are to knock and wait fifteen seconds whenever you're entering, and you're not to enter unnecessarily, we don't need to be badgered every five minutes about how the food is”

“Of course sir. You'll also find there are no surveillance den-den in this room, it's usually reserved for client meetings, so your privacy is very well protected in this room,” she indicated around the room, before walking over to a wall that had a small, silver button. “You can use this button to summon me if you require anything, I'll go get those drinks for you now but do not hesitate to call if you require anything at all”

“Thank you, Leah,” he cleared his throat and she gave a little curtsy and left.

“Is this okay?” Killer asked hesitantly, “it's not too much is it? I didn't have time to scout anything out beforehand”

“This is nice, Kil,” you smiled, leaning your elbow on the table and resting your chin in your hand, “and I'm glad to be able to have a meal with you without your mask. Or Kid, for that matter”

Killer took his mask off and gave you a shy smile. You could see his lips were freshly painted and he'd taken special care to apply eyeliner. It was always funny to you that he and Kid seemed to share an interest in makeup, you were honestly surprised Killer had eyebrows. You didn't question the fact that nobody could see the makeup on a usual basis, it seemed a bit like the kind of confidence boost you get from wearing a matching bra and panties set under your clothes.

“Anything look interesting?” He asked, lifting his menu to read. You'd been trying your best to read yours but some of these words seemed like alien scripture to you, you'd have an easier time defusing a bomb.

“Honestly, I'm a bit out of my depth here,” you sighed, “I see pasta, I see peas, that's about where my limit is”

“Well, it's better than nothing,” he smiled, “you've come a long way. I'll read it for you”

Killer diligently read through all the items on the menu for you, stopping to read the descriptions when you asked for them, till you settled on a roast pork dish that included roasted vegetables and greens in a garlic sauce, as well as chocolate gateau cake for the dessert. Killer of course, ever the predictable, chose a spaghetti based dish, one with seafood and marinara sauce, as well as a cheese and fruit platter to share and the special for the dessert.

All thoughts of seeing a movie afterwards were forgotten as you both got lost in conversation and delicious food, eating and talking till the hostess said the restaurant would be closing soon. Neither of you had realised how late it had gotten till then, and Killer tipped the server handsomely for her patience and the privacy she'd allowed the two of you. You weren't bothered about missing a movie, you'd had such a lovely evening, but Killer promised to grab a copy of next week's schedule from the cinema before leaving tomorrow so you could both go see a movie together when the crew returned for the log pose reset. Like a true gentleman he walked you all the way to your cabin door, before tilting his mask up, kissing the back of your hand and bidding you goodnight. Sleep was difficult that night, not for the usual reasons, but because you kept thinking about him and giggling like a schoolgirl. You'd all but forgotten the fact that today you'd learned your name, and your birthday, and your mother's name even. The butterflies in your chest were far more distracting.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

Author Notes: We don't have an exact date for in canon when the events of One Piece happen but we know, according to the wiki because I'm lazy, that Nolan the Liar's diary was dated to 1120 ‘Age of the Sea Circle’ and that was 400 years ago pre timeskip, so I'm estimating current year in the fic to be 1524, which in terms of canon timeline is happening somewhere between the time skip and Wano. Wano will be the endpoint for this fic so you'll know exactly where it falls in the canon soon. I also imagine Yin to be a Taurus cos she's stubborn and sexy, hey just like my Taurus wife irl. Also, easter egg, Val means ‘wave’ in Croatian, according to google. Which means our reader's name is really Val ‘Yin’ [y/n]. There's nothing special about chosing Croatian I just thought Val sounded cool lmao. I imagine if she wasn't [y/n] that her real name would be something like Freja, who was a goddess of love and war (alternate spelling for Freya, its the spelling they use in Croatia apparently so that would match the surname), I think that's fitting for our girl. Freya is also linked to the valkyrie which will be important down the line WINK

[pedropascallme]

Silence the Night

Pairing: sick!Cassian x gn!Reader

Summary: “Maneuvering yourself out of bed and to a standing position, you didn’t even bother shouting at him to stop pounding at the door, fully aware of his stubborn disposition and the way it coupled so perfectly with his incessant need to bug you. You opened the door and Cassian quickly lowered his fist to his side, smiling widely.”

Warnings: None :) Comfort and fluff with sick Cass.

AN: Post-Andor S1, pre-Rogue One. Yeah this plot makes little to no sense but give a girl a break. Sometimes I need to write silly little things about my silly little babygirl. 

“Let me in.”

You flipped yourself over, staring at the ceiling from the comfort of your bunk having been pulled from your admittedly light sleep by the familiar voice on the other side of the door. There was no time for idling in the rebel barracks; meals were eaten quickly, conversations were cut short, sleep was not a given, and neither was coming home at the end of the day. Suffice to say, despite the stifled urgency in Cassian’s voice, you hesitated to let him in after the rude awakening he had caused you after a day of running in every direction. 

You heard a near whine of your name as Cassian continued his plea for you to open up. “I know you’re here. Come on!” He knocked on the metal that divided the two of you, then let out what you assumed was a sneeze. Maneuvering yourself out of bed and to a standing position, you didn’t even bother shouting at him to stop pounding at the door, fully aware of his stubborn disposition and the way it coupled so perfectly with his incessant need to bug you. You opened the door and Cassian quickly lowered his fist to his side, smiling widely. His sunken eyes were red around the edges and glassy. You frowned.

“See, there you go!” He pushed past you and into your room, “Not so hard to just open up.” He stripped off the tan jacket he loved so dearly and threw it onto the chair pushed into the small desk that took up the far-left corner of the room before falling backwards onto your bunk, arms spread above his head. He had gotten as comfortable in your room as you had in his; most intervals between flight patrol were spent together, most meals were eaten together, most secrets shared. He was the first person that had made you feel like you were meant to be rebelling, he had put effort into showing you that you had a place in these barracks and in this fight—and it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes, though he could be a pain in the ass.

 “Cassian,” you closed the door, flicking on the overhead light as you turned to face him, watching him blink to get used to the brightness, “why are you here?”

“Ouch.” He moved a hand to cover his chest, shielding his heart from your words.

“Why are you here right now?”

“To hang out with you.” He rolled over on the mattress and shifted his body upwards to grab your pillow and cradle it to his chest.

“I can’t—” You hardly managed to get the words out before he was tsking you.

“You’re not on the schedule for the next 8 hours.” He chided.

“I want to use those to sleep!”

“So, sleep. I’ll stay here.” He sat up and patted the place beside him to coax you toward him. You crossed your arms. 

“Cassian.” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes?” He sneezed again, trying to muffle it in his shoulder.

“Are you sick?” 

“No. Allergies.” He was trying to sound confident, but the quick counter gave away his defensive attitude. 

“You’re an awful liar. Get off my bed.” You walked over to him, attempting to pull him off the bunk to no avail. 

He protested by going limp and falling onto his back. “Let me stay.” He looked up at you, brown eyes pleading and hair falling over his forehead. “I can be quiet.”

“No, you can’t. And I’m more worried about you getting me sick.” 

“I won’t!” He sneezed, then smiled at you sheepishly.

You sighed, looking over at the clock on the desk and taking in the fact that arguing with Cassian had, per usual, taken up far more time than it was worth. You sat next to him, defeated. He hummed in content.

“I’m going to sleep.” You waved him off as he sat up to meet your gaze. “Are you just going to sit and watch me? Like some beady-eyed porg?”

“I’ll sleep, too.” He resigned to the fact that, although he had won a battle, you would not forgo the rest you so desperately wanted. You made a noise of approval, reaching for the pillow he had moved to the foot of the bed so that you could put it back in its necessary position. You crawled under the sheet and watched as Cassian took off his boots before turning off the light and coming to lie next to you. He positioned himself above the sheet, letting out a string of coughs and resting his head at a distance from yours on the other pillow.

“Don’t cough on me.” You mumbled, closing your eyes.

“I didn’t cough on you.” 

“You coughed near me.”

“That’s not at all the same thing.” He turned his head to look at you, waiting to see if he could goad you into another argument. You swatted at his chest. 

It wasn’t unusual to share a bed with another person on the base; between away missions and overcrowding and all the drills, you couldn’t count on all your fingers and toes the times you had huddled into a cot with another rebel. It was always more welcome when that rebel was Cassian, not only because of the familiarity you felt around him, not only because of the attraction to him that you tried to keep at bay, but mostly because of the blanket of protection he seemed to offer you. He was by no means a watchdog—he slept far too deeply to offer any sort of intruder alert—but his frame felt like a sort of safe haven from the galaxy at large. You had never found the courage to admit that to him, and expected that if you ever did, the confession would be met with his usual ribbing. 

Cassian made a low rumbling sound, turning his head away from you to face the wall. You groaned, turning on your side toward him. “Cough.” He did. “Don’t torture yourself on my account, Cass.” You settled back into the mattress in your new position, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t want to disturb you.” He whispered, ignoring the fact that you had addressed him at a normal volume, keeping up the front of really not wanting to get in the way of the sleep you craved. You kicked him lightly from under the sheet and he sneezed in your direction. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you kicked at him again, “and get under the blanket.”

“Why?”

“You’ll sweat out whatever it is you have.” Ultimately, your true intention was to be closer to him, to have him surround you more, but the concept of him recovering from whatever it is he had caught was an appealing one if this is how he was going to act while ill. He relented, pushing himself off the bed with his shoulders and feet to shimmy the sheet down and back over his legs and torso. You remained on your side with him on his back, trying to ignore the way his profile looked and the sounds of chatter and machinery outside your room. It was hard to imagine a life beyond all the pandemonium; at this point in your life, you had gotten used to the all-encompassing cacophony of the galaxy. Having been so young when the Senate came crashing down and the Empire formed from its ashes, there were times where it felt like noise was the only constant, and there was worry that accompanied the thoughts that maybe you would only ever know the tumult of the Empire—the screams and jeers and hushed conversations over fears that, at a certain and much earlier time, would have felt so outlandish, were now just a backing score. You rubbed your eyes and went back to tracing the shape of Cassian’s nose with your eyes. He turned himself on his side to face you, opening his eyes and staring back at you.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered, for some reason now genuinely feeling the need to stay hushed.

“We should see if there’s any soup tomorrow…” You murmured, trying to bury yourself into your pillow. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed to have been caught staring after putting up such a fight to allow you to fall asleep, it was more so the thought of having been using him as a distraction from the doubt you were plagued with.

“You’re also a terrible liar.” He traced back of his hand over your cheek in an effort to get you to emerge from your pillow. You turned back to him, grateful for the contact he was giving you. You took his hand from your cheek and clasped it in your own.

“What if it’s all for nothing.” You managed to whisper. You didn’t need to clarify what it was you meant, he of all people knew that any effort against the Empire was a long shot.

“It isn’t.” He was blunt, and you didn’t have to look at him to know his face was painted with the same thousand-yard stare you had grown accustomed to seeing him wear. Sometimes you felt guilty when it came to burdening Cassian with your cynicism and all the dread you harbored. He had told you about his childhood, about his foray into the rebellion, detailed how he had overcome all odds—and all you had given in return was your hesitation. 

“And if it is?” He examined you, his smile faded slightly, and even in the darkness of your room you could see how his eyes darted over your face.

“At least we’re doing it together.” He squeezed your hand. It wasn’t a complete answer, not that you had expected one. Nobody on the base would ever bring themselves to really contemplate the repercussions of the whole operation, of any greater failures. Still, the confidence in Cassian’s voice was enough to bring you peace of mind for now, at least. The two of you stayed like that, looking at each other, fingers intertwined and breathing in sync. 

“I feel safer with you, Cassian.” You broke the silence, feeling that now was as good a time as any to disclose the information to him. He said nothing, continuing to look at you and ruminating in the quiet. For a brief moment you felt the sting of rejection, but before you could come to terms with the idea that your confession had gone unheeded, you felt Cassian wrap an arm around you. He pulled you closer to him, pushing his other arm underneath your side to fully sweep you into his embrace. You felt his legs tangle with your own and the room felt soundless; something about how you felt his breath fan the top of your head or how his hands felt spread over your back made you feel a stillness you hadn’t thought possible. 

“You are safe with me.” He mumbled into your hair, and you leaned into him in an attempt to get as close as you possibly could. You felt his heart beating into you from the position you held, and you made a small sound of what was meant to be appreciation. You basked in the quiet, the calm seeping into your aching body and taking hold of your mind, settling your thoughts and insecurities. All you knew in this instant was Cassian, and his warmth, and his voice, and the way he smelled like smoke and x-wing grease and Alliance issued soap. You breathed deeply against him. He made another guttural sound.

“Cough, Cassian.” You whispered against his chest, and he did, trying not to interfere with the comfort you both felt in the newfound arrangement you had found yourselves in. “I was serious about the soup.”

“Mm,” he grunted, “like you were serious about sweating it out?” You smiled, moving your face slightly upwards so you could feel the soft skin of his neck against your nose. He kissed your forehead, his lips making gentle contact and staying pressed to you for a stretch. “Terrible liar.” He chuckled, letting his head drop comfortably on the pillow you now shared. You wriggled an arm out from between your bodies to swat at him again. He sneezed.

[readyforthegarden]

Eternal - Part Eleven

A vampire!gvf multi-part dark romance AU (Josh Kiszka x reader, GVF x reader)

Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI. Relationship discussions, talks of sex, angst, mentions of blood, death, vampirism.

A/N: iiiiiiiiitt's baaaaaacckk!!!! thank you to everyone for your patience while i worked through my block for this! i'm not keeping to an update schedule with this one, but the train is back on the tracks so hopefully it won't be months before the next post again! shout out to @joshsindigostreak and @gretavanfleetposts for the unwavering support the entire time and getting me back into it!!

WC: 3593

You kept the dream a secret. It had been so long since you’d had one, it just felt like a fluke. A part of you wanted to tell someone, and you’d almost let it slip to Danny over breakfast the next morning, but you felt as though he would make you do the right, cautious thing and tell Josh about it. So you stuffed it into the recesses of your brain, focusing on helping the tallest human in the house with the chores. 

When you had time to yourself, there was an attempt to find solace in the library, flipping through books and trying to lose yourself in another world of fantasy. Unfortunately there were slim pickings, the brothers, Jake especially, preferring novels of his ‘glory days’ on the seas, recounts of pirate ships and merchant trade routes. The rest were old ledgers, or journals the boys kept about their various travels or more historical non-fiction.

“That’s a good one.” you looked up from your seat in the window, as you read one of the old leather-bound tomes. It rested in your lap, your knees drawn up to keep the pages close in the light of the vintage wall sconce. Jake was standing a few feet away, the moonlight catching the glass of a bottle of liquor and a crystal tumbler. “I particularly like the ruggedly handsome pirate that rescues the small port town from a pillaging.”

“Hm, you mean the one described with long, shaggy brown hair and is…tall?” quirking an eyebrow with a joking smirk, Jake took your jest with a roll of his shoulders.

“When five-four is the average height, five-seven seems incredibly tall.” he chuckled, sitting down on the window seat next to you. He unscrewed the top on the bottle, the amber liquid sloshing around as he maneuvered to pour it into the glass in his other hand.

“No work for you tonight?” Jake shook his head.

“I needed a night off.” he replied, taking a sip from the glass after fastening the cap back on the bottle and setting it next to his feet. “Was thinking about hiding out in here, reliving some old memories.”

“Don’t let me stop you.” snapping the book in your hands shut, you moved to leave, but Jake reached out a hand, resting it on your knee and making you pause.

“I’d be happy for the company,” he smiled softly. “if you don’t mind. You haven’t been around while I’m working in a while.” you sat yourself back again, giving him a sheepish smile.

“Just trying to keep myself busy.” you shrugged. Jake took another sip from his glass, then offered it to you. Wrapping your fingers around the crystal, you brought it to your lips, the smell of scotch infiltrating your nostrils before you took a sip, swallowing down the burn and trying not to wince in front of the vampire. The crinkle in your eyes wasn’t missed by him, but Jake held a reserved smile as he took back the glass.

“Josh has told me you haven’t been sleeping well.” Jake gave you a knowing look, and you crossed your arms over your chest, looking out the window at the grounds. “Have you been having nightmares again?”

“No.” you answered quickly, glancing back at him. The twin raised an eyebrow at your rapid response. “I’m just having trouble staying asleep. I think it’s just being cooped up again. I get restless and then at night I just toss and turn.” Jake watched you, his eyes studying you. Unable to discern if he was looking for the lie in your story or something, else, you looked back out the window, focusing on watching a few sparse, dark clouds float across they starry sky.

“May I try something?” you turned back to Jake, watching him reach out, handing the scotch back to you. 

“Sure,” you shrugged, accepting the glass again. You took a small sip, this one only slightly less scalding, as Jake sat back on the seat more, resting his back against the window glass and tugging one of your legs, resting your foot in his lap. His fingers deftly slipped under the ankle hem of your sock, slipping it off. You opened your mouth to protest, but it turned into a breathy sigh as Jake’s thumbs began working on the bottom of your foot.

“Centuries of life you find that you learn a lot of different things.” Jake hummed softly. “Or, well, you get bored enough that at some point you take up different things to learn. I studied massage therapy for a while in the nineties.”

“You were that bored?”

“Well, opening up a late night spa was a good way to feed for a while.” Jake shrugged. “Lull people into a sense of security and relaxation, it’s almost like hypnotizing them. As an added bonus, they were so relaxed the blood flowed easier, almost warmer.”

“So you’d get them just where you wanted them and then dive in?” the man chuckled.

“I’d always ask,” he responded, his thumb digging into the ball of your foot, making you sigh again. “But late night spas usually got some seedy characters. And if some of the men that came in expected more than what was advertised and bothered one of my workers? Well, they may not have gotten the choice.”

“Ah, you were on your vigilante shit, huh?” you quipped, making Jake laugh again as he turned one hand into a fist, firmly but gently digging his knuckles into the arch of your foot.

“Something like that.” Nodding, Jake continued the foot rub, moving down to your heel. A soft moan slipped from your lips as his thumbs pressed into the skin there. You hadn’t realized how sore and tired your feet were after working around the house so much. Feeling yourself melt back against the wall behind you, you let the book slide off your lap onto the floor. “Feels good?”

“Mhm,” humming your response was the only way to communicate, fearing opening your mouth and letting out another moan. Jake worked on your foot a bit more then gently set it down, taking the other one in his nimble hands and taking the sock off and setting to work again. This time when he pressed his knuckles into the arch of your foot, a gasp tumbled from your lips as a tingle ran through your body. 

You were putty in his hands now, closing your eyes and finally starting to feel the unease creeping out of your body. Jake’s hands were callused from his life before his turning, and he knew how to use them well. It was near instant, the way you felt yourself falling asleep, your head lolling to the side. What roused you out of your potential slumber was the feeling of tepid liquid dribbling down your front. 

             Before you could move to wipe it away, Jake was there, his warm, flat tongue tracing the scotch’s path from the valley between your breasts to the dip between your collarbones. He closed his lips around your skin there, sucking softly. Your heart was thrumming out of your chest at the unexpected touch, and as he pulled back, he smirked, taking in your surprised face.

“Sorry darling, but that’s Glenfiddich.” he winked. “Too expensive to waste.”

“I’m sorry,” you cleared your throat softly, watching Jake’s face move closer. 

“Don’t be.” as he leaned in, his lips looked wet from the taste he’s just had, and a part of you anticipated finding the scotch would taste better, almost sweeter if coming from his lips than crystal. Your heart still beat wildly in your chest, the only other sound in the room the crackling fireplace. In your minds eye, there was a brief vision of Jake taking you on the large area rug in front of it, wild and passionate. 

Just as you felt Jake’s bottom lip brush against yours, a loud thud  echoed in the room. You jumped back with a gasp, yet Jake remained where he was, tongue in cheek. Looking over, you saw Josh standing only a few feet away, a large tome at his feet, settling in the dust it expelled out on impact. 

“Jacob.” his voice was low, his jaw clenched. 

“Hello Josh,” Jake smiled. “Beautiful evening, isn’t it? Would you like some scotch?”

“I would like to know what you were doing just now.”

“Josh, it’s-“ Jake cut you off, grabbing your thigh and giving it a squeeze. 

“I was just helping her relax,” Jake answered innocently. “Gave her a nice foot rub, had a bit of scotch. Licked the scotch she spilled off her body.” 

“And what makes you think you can touch her yet?” Josh quipped, glaring at his younger twin. The word yet stood out in your mind like a sore thumb as they prattled on. 

“Forgive me, but if I have to stare at the claw marks she left in the mahogany on my desk, I should like a few of them to be from me.” Jake snipped back. 

Josh looked from Jake to you and back again a few times before holding out his hand towards you. 

“Come love,” his tone was soft towards you. Removing your legs from underneath Jake, you stood up and took Josh’s hand. “Jacob, get Sam and meet us in the den in half an hour.” he turned then, startling you into motion and to keep up with him. 

When the library doors shut behind you, you opened your mouth to speak, but Josh shook his head. He led you to your bedroom, opening the door and gesturing for you to walk in first. You did so slowly, waiting for Josh to begin scolding and interrogating you, but it didn’t come. Instead he moved to your bathroom, turning on your shower. He was slow, purposeful, in his movements. You followed him into the bathroom and locked eyes with him as he stood in front of you.

“Josh, I’m sorry,” you tried to explain what was happening in the library when he walked in, but he shushed you again. Instead, he grasped the hem of your shirt, lifting it up your torso until you raised your arms for him to pull it off over your head. He kept his eyes on yours as he undressed you, letting the materials fall to the floor at your feet. Taking the hair tie off your wrist, he gathered up your hair, twisting it gently into a bun to keep it off your body.

Opening the glass door to your shower, he watched you walk in before shutting it. “You’re not coming in?”

“We don’t have enough time.” Josh answered, a small hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as his eyes finally wandered your body. On their way up, they stopped at your neck, and you saw a flash in his eyes. “Wash up and meet us in the den, please.” Once you nodded, he left, the door latching quietly behind him. You stepped into the hot spray of water, happy to have something to wipe away the sticky feeling the liquor and Jake’s saliva had left behind on your chest. 

Once you were done, you dressed quickly in clean clothes, heading down the large staircase to the den. When you arrived, you were greeted with the three Kiszkas. Jake was leaning against the mantle, his crystal tumbler filled with amber liquid again. Sam was draped over the couch, a lazy, smarmy smile on his face as you walked into the room. Josh halted the pacing he was doing in between Jake and Sam, gesturing you to sit on the end of the couch Sam wasn’t occupying.

“Okay, can someone tell me what’s going on? The last time we were in this room like this, it was to tell me I’m being hunted by an ancient vampire that controls an army of demons…” you looked between the brothers waiting for one to tell you that you’d been found. A brief spike of fear shot through you, wondering if that thought was about to come true. Would you have to run again? Taken somewhere to hide? And how long would the running go on for before the family grew tired of you and just gave you up?

“No, no, we haven’t been alerted to anything.” Josh shook his head. “However, our conversation the other night led us here.”

“What conversation?” you furrowed your brow. “I’m sorry, I’m not following.”

“When you told me you’d like to be shared.” Josh clenched his jaw after answering, watching the heat rise up in your cheeks. Sam sat up straighter on the couch, the move bringing him slightly closer. The ‘yet’ from earlier echoed in your head again, and you were starting to understand. “I brought the idea to them and they agreed.” you stared at Josh before regaining control of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, what?” you blinked. “Josh that was in private.”

“We all heard it, pet.” Sam grinned. “There isn’t much privacy around vampires.” your face grew hotter, which only made his grin wider. 

“And we’re more than willing to grant your wish.” Jake smirked from his place by the fireplace. While there wasn’t one lit, the image from your imagination earlier popped back in briefly. “That is, if you still want it.”

“Still want us.” Sam’s voice was low in your ear. He’d moved flush against you now, pulling your hair back away from your face gently as if drawing a curtain open. You replayed the discussion in your mind, thinking of all the ways you imagined Jake, Danny, and Sam torturing you with pleasure. “You may as well say it, I can hear your heart practically breaking your rib cage.”

“Josh, you’re okay with this?” you looked up at him, taking in his dark eyes. He looked only at you, giving a curt nod. 

“There are boundaries we need to go over.” he moved to stand in front of you.

“Okay,” you nodded, trying your best to ignore Sam as he walked his index and middle fingers up and down your thigh. 

“There will be nobody else in my bed.” Josh stated his first rule. “And I would prefer it if no one else was in yours.”

            “That’s reasonable, go on.” you agreed. 

“You may be bitten, but you are not to be fed on by anyone other than myself.” Josh shot a look at his brothers. “Is this understood?” the brothers confirmed under their breaths, seemingly annoyed this was one of the conditions. “Fangs only, no full bites.”

“I do love a good fang-warming.” Jake chuckled under his breath. “Is that all, Josh?”

“No, that isn’t all.” Josh mocked Jake with a sneer, and you giggled, quickly covering your mouth. The sound of your laugh turned Josh’s head back to you momentarily.

“She can stop this at any time. No matter what the situation is, she is in control.” you liked the feeling those words gave you. Finally, something you could have authority over. While it wasn’t much, with the way your life had flipped upside down, the idea sat well with you. 

“A lot of rules for them, any more for me?” you asked. Josh walked forward, taking your jaw softly in his hand and raising your head up to look up at him directly. His thumb swiped across your cheek as he gazed down.

“Remember that what I said at the end of that conversation is still true.” he murmured. “You will always be my first priority.” moving your head in his hand, you managed to press a soft kiss against the pad of his thumb, a sign that you took his words to heart. Deep from the recesses of your brain, you could hear the dark, harsh voice telling you it was all lies again. Before you could force it back, Sam’s voice caught your attention.

“Now that the rules are all settled, why don’t we start having some fun, hm?” he in turn reached out, taking your face from Josh’s hand into his own, turning you to him. You took your head out of his hand, standing up and crossing your arms over your chest. Josh was making no attempt to hide his smile while Sam frowned. Jake just looked curiously on from his place by the mantle, watching the scene unfold.

“Okay, that’s not how that’s going to work.” you scoffed. “If you want to start having ‘fun’, I suggest you put effort in. Seduce me, for christs sake.”

“I would like to point out, I was doing a very good job of that earlier,” Jake interjected, raising a finger from his glass to emphasize his statement. “I was interrupted, unfortunately.” Josh’s smile grew into a satisfied smirk and you rolled your eyes. 

“Well, I guess you’re going to have to try again.” you shrugged. The chiming of the clock on the mantle counted out six times, and you smirked. “And it looks like that’s it for tonight boys. Sun is almost up.” you turned on your heels, marching out of the den and back towards the staircase to go to your room. 

Part way down the hallway, a question popped up in your mind and you turned quickly again to go back and asked. A sharp gasp pulled from your lungs when you were greeted by Josh, only a few paces behind you. 

“Fuck! What are you doing?”

“Well I’m not about to let you start sleeping with my brothers without making sure I remind you who you belong to fully.” His lips fell upon yours and you felt your arms reach out, grasping his sides as his own hands held you close. Letting him guide you back, it wasn’t long before you felt the end of a bed pressing against the back of your legs. From the lingering smell of your body wash, you put together he had led you where you intended to go alone.

“Mm, wait,” you breathed as you pulled away from Josh’s plush lips. “I had a question.”

“You always do,” Josh hummed with a sigh, kissing across your cheek and down your neck. “Ask, love.”

“Where was Danny?” you asked your question, feeling Josh pause in his affections. “He wasn’t in the meeting.”

“Daniel is not involved in this arrangement.” Maneuvering your body you looked at him curiously, causing him to sigh again. “The question in our conversation was if you’d like to be shared with my brothers.”

“And I said yes.” you replied, feeling Josh’s hands loosen on your waist. “And Danny is a brother.”

“While Samuel may feel as such, I do not.” Josh sniffed. “He is not my brother, therefore he is not involved.”  you looked at Josh for a few moments, and then stepped out of his grasp. 

“I’m tired, I’m going to get some rest.” Josh watched you with pursed lips, gauging your mood. You began turning down your bed. 

“You’re upset.”

“I’m not.” you said simply, beginning to change into pajamas. “I just don’t think it’s fair. You said I was in control.”

“You are,” Josh pressed, stepping closer to you as you finished changing. “But that is a boundary I’m not willing to budge on.” 

“Why?” you set your hands on your hips. “Why should Danny get the short end of the stick? He does everything for you three, and for me. The least you could do is show him some appreciation, let him in on the ‘fun’.” Watching Josh struggle was something you weren’t used to. He looked at a loss for words in front of you as his eyes searched your face for any sign of relenting. When he found none, he rolled his shoulders back. 

“As I said, I am not willing to negotiate that boundary.” he repeated quietly. “You can have the deal as is, or we can end it all here. Your choice.” Biting the tip of your tongue gently, you shook your head. 

“I want an explanation.” 

“I gave you one.” Josh’s eyes were firm now. Butting heads like this would get you nowhere, especially when one of his brothers wasn’t there to stir the pot in your favor. 

“Fine.” Sighing, you stopped pushing back, instead sitting on your bed. “It was a shitty one though.” Josh was by your side on the bed in an instant, leaning over and cupping your face. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, though this time there was no fight behind it.

“Know that I have my reasons, and let that be enough.” he rested his forehead against your temple, a rare show of submissiveness. Your defense crumbled, and you nodded, turning and letting your lips graze his forehead. He pulled back, kissing your lips softly before nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“I like this side of you,” you mused softly, letting him move your body back into the bed, your head resting on your pillow. He let his own come to rest on your chest, flattening out his body against yours. 

“It’s just for you, my love.” Josh breathed against your skin, listening to your heartbeat against his ear. “I’ll drink you dry if you ever tell anyone about it.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” you chuckled under your breath, threading your fingers through his curls. Your body began to relax as you felt him do the same against you, easing you into the most restful sleep you’d had in days, worries of another nightmare far away with Josh so close.

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[joeandtaylorfanfiction]

Traveling For Work - Vol 2 (Submission)

By the time morning came Joe was awakened by the sun shining into the room. His eyes opened slowly and he checked the time. It was just before seven in the morning, he slept longer than normal but he was pleasantly surprised. He was just rolling over to Taylor's side of the bed when he stopped himself after seeing his daughter asleep beside him. He chuckled softly and shook his head, bemused as to when she had managed to sneak into the room while he slept.

If he was being honest, he wasn't surprised at all to find her curled up beside him. Though he and Taylor tried to keep her in her own bed, he couldn't be too upset with her for waiting to be close to him when Taylor was gone, he suspected she did the same with Taylor whenever he was away. Joe smiled at the thought before he put his head back down on his own pillow. Watching her breathing made him smile and felt so lucky for their daughter. Joe laid there for a while, thinking of the memories of when he and Taylor first brought her home and all the times they would watch her sleep when she was a baby. Though she was much older now, she would always be his little girl and that is exactly why he didn't mind her sneaking into the room at night. He was well aware that this stage of hers wouldn't last forever.

Joe checked his phone, catching up on missed notifications before sending a text to Taylor. He snapped a quick picture of Ella still asleep on Taylor's side of the bed and sent it to Taylor with a smile. Gently Joe got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen to fetch a cup of coffee and his tablet before returning to the bedroom where Ella was still fast asleep. Joe got back into bed and sat up to read emails while he enjoyed his coffee before Ellie began to slowly come out of her sleep. Very much like Taylor, Ella wasn’t a heavy sleeper but Joe noted that her breathing had changed giving him warning that she would be waking up soon.

Like he would with Taylor, he carefully pulled Ella closer to him and rubbed his hand over her back soothingly to help her wake up while he continued to read. Eventually her eyes fluttered open slowly and woke to find herself in her parents bed.

"Good morning my sleeping beauty," Joe said with a smile when he noticed she was now awake. He put his tablet down and kissed his daughter's head softly before giving her a little tickle.

Ella stretched a little before she smiled back to her father. "G'morning Daddy," she said sleepily as she attempted to sit up but was quickly unable to due to the tickling at the hands of her father.

"Daddy!" Ella squealed followed by a fit of laughter.

Joe tickled her for just a moment. He figured there is no better way to start her day than by a fit of giggles. Hearing his daughter laugh so genuinely made him laugh with her. He let her catch her breath before she sat up again and moved to cuddle beside him as he let her catch her breath and fully wake up a little more.

Ella was quick to move from her fathers side and into his lap to rest her head on his chest. Joe smirked to himself as she did and held her close, kissing her softly just as he had done when she was just a baby.

Joe continued to hold her close, rubbing her back softly as she continued to slowly wake. Joe was still glancing at his tablet, looking over the schedule of work before flipping to his calendar for the day. He smiled seeing what he had planned with his daughter today, knowing she was going to have a blast.

“Darling, are you ready to go down stairs and have breakfast?” He asked gently after placing another soft kiss to her head.

Ella held onto her father a little tighter and shook her head. “No Daddy, not yet,” she said softly and nuzzled deeper into his chest.

“No?”Joe asked, a bit surprised at her response. He looked down at her to try and see her face to understand if she was ok. “Why not love?” He asked, trying to coax a response out of her.

“Not yet Daddy. Please? I want to lay with you for a little while longer.” She said, peering up at him through her long lashes. Joe smiled at her and nodded his head. “Of course my Darling,” he assured her and held her a little closer. He was in no rush to get breakfast started, in fact he loved that for this moment, time stood still and he was able to spend a few extra quiet moments with his daughter. Time went by so quickly these days, he and Taylor would always discuss how fast she was growing up and how they needed to prioritize these simple moments with her she would someday grow out of, so for now he would soak up the extra cuddles whenever she needed them. Ella began to fidget a little more, stretching her little arms and legs and wiggling her toes as she played with the hem of Joe’s t-shirt. Little things that told Joe that her sleep was wearing off. It didn’t take much longer before Ella sat up and smiled at her father before giving him another hug. “Daddy, I miss Mummy…can we call her now?” She asked after seeing the photo of Taylor Joe had framed on the bedside table. Joe looked over in the direction his daughter's eyes had drawn her to and smiled fondly at the photo he had taken. “I miss Mum too, we can call soon. I think she may still be resting before she gets to work.” He explained after checking the time.

Ella frowned softly, not wanting to wait but also having been through this routine before many times she understood what that meant.

Seeing the disappointment on his daughter's face gave Joe a guilty feeling. He hated to see that look on her face because she missed her mother, but he also knew it was the same face Taylor had to deal with when he was away from work too. “Don’t be sad, Love.” He tried to comfort her, “how about we go down stairs and make breakfast. I’m sure Mummy will be ready to talk with you after breakfast. Shall we go downstairs now?”

Ella thought about it for a moment, then nodded her head softly. “Okay Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl,” he said happily. He was half expecting her to break down crying and begging to call Taylor at that exact moment based on her behavior from the day before during her meltdown when it was time for Taylor to leave, so when she didn’t become upset he was overjoyed. He knew that she had a good night's rest which didn't happen the night before.

“Now, the important question is what do you want for breakfast?” He asked her to take her mind off the subject.

Ella smiled and was quick to answer “I want orange juice Daddy!” Joe chuckled as he managed to get out of bed still while holding Ella in his arms. “Just orange juice?” He asked with mocked disbelief as he walked downstairs to the kitchen. He placed Ella on the kitchen counter before pouring her a small glass of orange juice and making another cup of coffee for himself.

“Here, you start on your orange juice while we think of what else we can have for breakfast, what do you think?” He asked after passing her the orange juice and kissing her cheek softly.

Ella responds with a soft giggle before thanking him for her juice. Joe smiled at her manners, pleased she said thank you without being prompted.

“How about we have an omelet? I’ll put all your favorites and make some bacon too? You like omelets right?” He asked her, well aware she did like them but only when he or Taylor made them for her.

Ella nodded her head excitedly, “can I help Daddy?”

“Well of course you can help! Why don’t you tell me what you want in your omelet and I’ll fetch them. After you can help me wash and chop everything up, ok?” He asked, matching her enthusiasm.

Ella grinned proudly and nodded her head. Still sipping her juice Ella listed off the vegetables she liked in her omelets while Joe slipped in a few extras he knew she’d eat without hesitation if she was unaware. Once Joe had their ingredients out he pulled out Ella’s Montessori kitchen tower up to the sink so she could safely help out by washing the vegetables. Once he had her started on that Joe started with the bacon and eggs before chopping the vegetables that would not be suitable for Ella to cut up with even with supervision. Just as he was finishing up, Ella was done with her task and proudly informed her father.

Joe praised Ella for a job well done before moving her and the tower to the counter so she could chop some of the softer ingredients with her special kitchen tools that were child safe. Joe watched her and instructed her what to do, but was merely supervising since she seemed to have a handle on it already, something he knew was attributed to Taylor teaching her these things when she had her help in the kitchen too.

Joe was very impressed with just how helpful she really was, but he did take over for the actual cooking of their breakfast, not wanting to risk her getting hurt with the hot stove. Joe did put a small bowl of fruit out for Ella, hoping she would snack on that before getting too hungry while he prepared breakfast. He also knew having a well balanced breakfast would make him feel a little less guilty about giving her sweets later in the day.

Snacking on her fruit Ella talked excitedly to her father about whatever came to mind, causing Joe to laugh at her train of thought and wild imagination. At one point Ella had circled back to the topic of when they could call Taylor, asking all kinds of questions about where her mother was, what she was doing and exactly what time they could call her. Joe paid close attention, treading carefully on the subject but also using it as a great learning opportunity for a few things he and Taylor were teaching their daughter.

“Mummy is in a different country, Love. She is in Australia. Do you remember where that is on the map?” He asked while peeking on his phone. He had sent a text to Taylor, asking her to text her when she was free for them to call her. He knew she had been meeting with her team throughout the day, and likely resting prior to getting ready for her event there and he certainly didn’t want to interrupt her. “Why don’t you show me where you think Australia is on the map, I can help you if you need it.” He suggested to Ella to keep her engaged.

Ella quickly ran to one of the maps in the little learning nook he and Taylor had created off the kitchen and livingroom for Ella to access with them nearby, Ella looked at the map intently, staying quiet as she studied it carefully.

Joe was just about to step in and off his help when Ella pointed excitedly. “Is this Aust..wa..lia..Daddy?” She asked, trying to repeat the country as her father had pronounced it.

Joe grinned widely and nodded his head as he knelt down to her level and looked over the map. “That’s very good Ella, you’re right. This is Australia,” he said a little slower for her to hear each syllable, “Australia is a county and a continent. Currently Mummy is here, but she is in the city of Perth. Now, can you tell me where Perth is on the map?” He asked to show her the different parts of the country.

Ella’s eyes flickered over the map a little closer before she shook her head. “Where is Perth Daddy? I don’t see it.”

Joe grinned pointing out the city to her and spelling the city out for her and allowing her to get a closer look. Letting Ella examine the map a little more, Joe stepped back to the kitchen to plate their food. “Now Australia is pretty far away from us so there's a time difference. 12 hours difference actually…they are 12 hours ahead of us here in New York. So Mummy is 12 hours ahead of us.” Ella had made her way back to the kitchen counter and was listening to her father intently, but she didn’t really understand entirely. Joe continued to try and explain the time difference to her before eventually asking her to tell him the time.

Ella looked over at the large clock, he smiled watching her little mind work before successfully answering, “It’s seven-forty-eight Daddy…?” she questioned slowly and carefully before looking back to her father to see if she was right.

Somehow Joe’s smile grew again with pride as he picked Ella up and playfully tossed her in the air. “Right again my Love! How did you get to be so smart?” He asked, causing Ella to giggle proudly. “Now, let’s look at the clock again and count 12 hours from now, that will tell us what time it is where Mummy is, ok?” He asked, watching her little eyes look over the clock again.

Ella counted on her fingers what seven-forty-eight plus 12 hours would be, but when she came up with nineteen-forty-seven Joe stepped in to assist a bit. Reminding her that while she was correct, another way to say the time would still be seven-forty-eight in the evening. He could tell Ella was a little more confused than anything, but didn’t worry about it. He praised her for doing so well with an early morning geography and math lesson, and made sure they would circle back to telling time and timezones a little later.

Joe sat her down at her booster seat at the kitchen counter before he placed her little omelet and bacon infront of her. Joe had made one big omelet to share with his daughter but had already cut her food so it would cool before she ate. Joe sat beside her, eating from his own plate and explaining they would call Taylor shortly.

Ella picked at her food a bit, taking a bite here and there which caused Joe a bit of concern. This wasn’t new behavior for Ella, but he still wished she would eat without having to be coaxed about it. “What is it Love? Don’t you like your breakfast? I added everything that you like…” he said, trying to encourage her to eat.

Ella shook her head softly before taking another bite of fruit then her bacon. Joe took notice, hoping she would eat some of her omelet too. When she reached for another piece of fruit, Joe allowed her as such before pushing the bowl away and stating she had had enough fruit. “Try some of the omelet now Love, come on and give it a try…” he said, having taken her fork to put a piece of omelet for her to try on her own.

Ella examined it carefully before putting it in her mouth. She smiled and continued to feed herself for more bites, giving Joe some relief.

“Now it’s your turn Daddy! You try mine.” She giggled, taking her fork and reaching to Joe’s mouth to feed him. When he played along she exploded in a fit of laughter, causing Joe to chuckle too.

“My turn Daddy,” she said, reminding him but also encouraging him to feed her too. Joe knew what Ella wanted, and while he wanted to play along with her he knew this was an issue he and Taylor had discussed many times. Recently Ella would stop feeding herself and only want to eat if being fed by Taylor or himself. They knew it was an attention thing and some kind of regression, but it wasn’t something they wanted to truly entertain. They didn’t want to give in to the type of need of attention, since they did want to encourage her independence at the same time. It was something they still discussed regularly whenever Ella displayed the behavior.

Joe understood Taylor’s concern of giving in each time. And he also agreed it wasn’t something they could give into each and every time but Joe was a sucker for Ella’s innocent little face and sad eyes when they wouldn’t play along. Taylor on the other hand was a little more strict on the topic, yet she gave in when she felt it wasn’t worth upsetting her over.

Ella looked at him hopefully for a moment, but when Joe didn’t respond her face fell and blue eyes turned sad. Joe was quick to react after seeing that, and offered her a bite from his own fork. Ella’s face brightened up again and happily she finished most of the food on her plate after Joe played along in feeding her a few times.

Joe was just finishing his own plate when his phone chimed. He smiled seeing it was from Taylor, telling him she would give them a call in just a few minutes. Getting jump on clearing the plates and dishes Joe was happy to have Ella help when she offered. After cleaning up he picked Ella back up, tossed her in the air playfully before placing her back on the countertop with a gentle tickle before trying to wrangle her in so he could clean her face from breakfast when his phone began to ring. He quickly answered the call while still wiping Ella’s face as she protested and tried wiggling away.

“Hello my Love.” He said grinning as he flipped his camera on to view Taylor on the other end. She smiled, chuckling as she heard Ella’s protest.

“Just finished breakfast I assume?” She asked with a smirk, recognizing Ella's familiar fussing after getting cleaned up after meals.

Joe smirked with her and nodded before trying to pass the phone to Ella who was still trying to wiggle away. He swiftly lifted her from the counter to tell her who was on the phone when she instantly stopped her wiggling and excitedly peered at the phone.

Ella shyly smiled at the camera before she looked up to her father with a big grin. Her smile made both Joe and Taylor laugh with amusement.

“Say hi to Mummy Ella,” Joe encouraged her and when she didn’t say anything he laughed softly. “You’ve been asking about talking to Mummy all morning and now you’re shy?” He asked while cradling her closer.

“Is that true baby?” Taylor asked, knowing she needed just a little encouragement.

Ella was still smiling against her father as she nodded her head softly to her mother on the screen.

“Oh I miss you too, Sweetie. I miss you so much I had to call you and say good morning before you and Daddy start your day.” Taylor said gently, watching her daughter's smile begin to grow. It was clear she suddenly got shy but Taylor knew it was just in her nature. “Did Daddy make you breakfast?” She asked while keeping her full attention on her family back home despite the business that was going on behind her.

Ella nodded her head again as Joe whispered in her ear to tell her mother what they had for breakfast. It didn’t take much to get Ella speaking again openly and was soon telling Taylor what Joe had made for breakfast and how she helped him the whole time.

Joe was holding the phone with Ella now in his lap as mother and daughter spoke. The whole time he smiled listening to their conversation and watching their interaction unfold before him. “I know where you are Mummy! You’re in….you’re in…Austwalyia and I showed Daddy where that is on the map!” She said proudly as Joe chimed in with just as much pride.

“She did very well, Love. You would have been so proud of how she checked the map. We also located Perth and she did some impressive math as she calculated what the time was there.” He explained before Ella continued to tell Taylor all about what she learned.

Taylor was smiling at her daughter, knowing the lessons she and Joe did with her were no doubt sticking. “You did? My goodness baby, you are just getting smarter and smarter each day. When I get home I can’t wait for you to point it out on the map for me. Ok?” She asked, gushing even more as Ella beamed with pride.

Taylor was so happy listening to Ella all about their morning and was so excited when Joe explained that he had a fun surprise planned for them today. The three of them chatted for a little while longer before someone out of view pulled her attention away. She nodded softly before looking back to the camera and meeting Joe’s gaze, both knowing it was time to wrap up their call. Taylor allowed Ella to finish her current story.

“Already Sweetie, it’s time for me to go, but you're going to have so much fun with Daddy today.” She explained as gently as possible. She didn’t want to upset her, but she also knew she would never hang up the phone until Taylor was home again so had to do it.

Ella nodded her head softly, sad they had said goodbye and it showed on her face.

A wave of guilts hit Taylor and she sighed trying to cheer her daughter up again. “Don’t be sad angel, I know you miss me and I miss you so much too, but I’ll be home soon ok? And right now you have to help Daddy so he’s not missing me.”

Ella nodded her head as she listened to her mother. Just because this wasn’t new to her, it never made it any easier on her, Taylor or Joe for that matter.

Joe lifted her chin gently and kissed her head. “Mummy’s right. Why don’t we let Mummy get back to work so you and I can get ready for the day?” He asked, hoping to distract her with something a little more exciting to make it easier for Taylor. Ella was nodding her head, still upset by trying her best not to show it.

Taylor jumped in to help Joe. “Oh I’m sure you have to get dressed too Sweetie. You can show Daddy which dress you want to wear today, and when you’re all ready Daddy can send me a picture of you all dressed up. Can you do that?” She asked knowing how much Ella loved playing dress up and hoped this would be the perfect segway before ending their call.

She was right, and Ella perked up at the idea of dressing up. Seeing her smile again was enough to ease her guilt as she said her goodbyes. Taylor promised Ella and Joe they would speak again just before they went to bed, and it did her heart well to see her daughter smiling again when they disconnected the call.

Joe sent a quick text to Taylor, sending his love to her once more before turning his attention back to Ella.

[lilimonarch]

Doctor Hanahaki - I'm trying to get over this. [8]

Doctor Hanahaki

Chapter 8

WC: 3281

Akaashi goes through life after the kiss, regret and sorrow fill his days to where he almost collapses at work. Despite his inner turmoil, the flutter in his heart continues, and there is something he will have to figure out on his own.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47404093/chapters/140754997

~

“Okay, what the hell?”

“Be quiet,” Kiyoko hushes Sugawara who stares at the tablet in her hands, going over the schedule for the day. Nothing too out of the ordinary, but the big notice was Bokuto Koutarou was listed, and not under Akaashi’s name. “It says Akaashi recently referred him to someone else in the clinic. Weird…”

Sugawara frowned and looked around to make sure nobody else was watching. “That’s… weird. Kind of sad too. I feel like ever since Bokuto came around, Akaashi was so much more open. I wonder what happened.”

“Hopefully, nothing,” Kiyoko puts the tablet down and starts flipping on the lights to the rest of the clinic. Akaashi was usually here first, he was supposed to be here first, but he was not. “I trust that Akaashi has good judgement. It was probably just a scheduling conflict.”

“No, Kiyoko. You don’t understand,” Sugawara shook his head. “Akaashi is the most stoic, dead-inside person I’ve ever met. He’s so empty, anxious, chronic overthinker, you know what I mean. He had Hanahaki when he was 17, that surgery saved his life, but it messed him up. He hardly feels anything but whenever Bokuto comes in, Akaashi is smiling. It’s like he’s alive again.” It was a topic Sugawara was passionate about. Akaashi had been in his life for so long, the two of them had built this clinic (figuratively) from the ground up after their residencies. He was always for Akaashi becoming more open with others.

“You think he…”

It’s implied, but Sugawara hates to think about it.

“No,” Sugawara hears the door open and hushes his voice. “Akaashi is so morally correct, I’m sure of it. If something happened, he’d walk in here to resign. There must be something we’re missing but as his coworkers and his friends, we should check on him.”

The door opens, Sugawara has to hold his breath as Akaashi enters the clinic, hair extra ruffled and eyebags which beat even his worse ones. His eyes are dark, low, empty as ever, and even Kiyoko has to keep her composure at the sight of him. “Akaashi?” Sugawara breaks the silence, heading over to lay a hand on his younger coworker but hesitating as Akaashi backs away. “You look rough, buddy. Are you alright? Have you been sleeping okay?”

“I think…” Akaashi sighs, running his fingers through his hair and Sugawara swears he swayed. “I think I want to quit.”

~

“I’m in love with you, Bokuto,” Akaashi stands on a pedestal surrounded by whiteness, shouting into the void with no control over the words which fall out of his mouth. Petals fall out of his mouth as he screams again. “I love you! You’re everything!”

Akaashi looks down as vines climb up the pedestal, grabbing him by his ankles. “I love you! I love you! Take it, Bokuto! Take my love! Take it and be cured!” The vines climb up and knock Akaashi to his knees, threatening to pull him into the white void. Akaashi grips to the side of the pedestal as the vines attempt to pull him down, Akaashi letting out a harsh cough as petals and blood stain the quartz pedestal which he once stood proudly on.

“You hurt me,” Bokuto’s voice booms throughout the void, tears in Akaashi’s eyes. “You wanted to hurt me!” He shouts as the vines pull Akaashi from the pedestal.

He falls and screams.

He screams against the hardwood floor of his apartment, Nariko poking his face. “Ugh… oh my God,” Akaashi groans as he sits up from the ground and looks around, holding his hand over his mouth as waves of nausea from the nightmare sweep by him. The night is young, the moon is out as seen through his windows, and Nariko sits by Akaashi with beady eyes. A way to remind Akaashi he’s hardly slept this whole weekend, let alone in his own bed.

Nariko is the only factor helping Akaashi, as he runs to the bathroom and throws up in anguish from the night prior, thankful he finds no blood or petals. “I don’t love him, I don’t love anyone,” he mutters to himself, half delirious from the lack of sleep. “It was a mistake, Akaashi. You made a mistake; it didn’t mean anything.” Disgusted at the idea of love, the idea of feelings, the idea of ruining his ethical code for something so stupid!

It definitely meant something, at least to one of them.

Akaashi slowly gets up and looks at himself in the mirror, cringing as he looks away. “I can’t be there anymore.” Bokuto said he was not going to make a complaint about it, even though Akaashi begged him too. His license and reputation were only going to get hit if he came out. Akaashi was on his own, and he wanted it to be done.

“I’m going to quit.”

What about Bokuto?

Shut up.

Bokuto.

Be quiet.

You love-

“Fucking… oh my God, end me now. Shut the fuck up!” Akaashi covers his ears and leans against the bathroom counter, tears pouring as the bathroom lights flicker from his outburst. Bokuto is stuck in his mind, every waking second, no matter how much he doesn’t want him to be. “I’m quitting, I’m done. No more, Dr. Akaashi. No more, Dr. Hanahaki. I never should’ve gotten close to him. Never should’ve done any of this!”

Akaashi knows what he did was wrong, but he also knows that it did not feel as wrong as it should. The kiss consumes his waking days, and Bokuto is forever in his thoughts. He knows he should hate himself for it, but he misses Bokuto dearly. Akaashi knows he can never love, but he knows Bokuto was important to him, more than anyone ever before.

Key word, was. It has to be was.

He shut the lights off in the mirror and heads to the living room, picking up Nariko and sitting on the couch with her as he stares at the midnight sky. He’s worse than the way he was before Bokuto came into his life, living through the motions and blinking only to notice how much time has passed.

“I’m going to quit.” He repeats himself at the clinic when Sugawara stands with his mouth agape. He knows his tone sounds like a slash from the sword of betrayal, but he no longer cares. It’s for his own sake, for ethics and morals. “Consider this my two weeks. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Akaashi, you can’t be serious,” Sugawara shakes his head, Kiyoko looks out the window as cars start to pull up for appointments while the receptionist glances away from the drama. “We built this clinic from nothing, and you want to quit? Why? Why now?” The words scratch at Akaashi while he clenches his fists.

“Guys,” Kiyoko tries to jump in, but her voice does not carry so far.

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it. Be professional, Dr. Sugawara.”

“After everything? Dr. Akaashi, I may be your coworker, but I am also your friend.”

“And as my friend, I’m asking you to let it go. I’ve made my…” Akaashi’s voice trails off as he grabs the side of the wall, dizziness attacking his vision. It’s the stress, the lack of sleep, all the emotional turmoil. “My choice.”

“There are patients on their way in here!” Kiyoko shakes her head. “Deal with it later, you both need to be professional.”

Bokuto.

The dizziness tries to sweep him off his feet, Akaashi shakes his head to try and clear his thoughts. In his peripheral vision, Sugawara reaches out. “I’m sorry, I’ll be okay,” Akaashi forces a smile and starts to head to the back of the clinic where he starts his day. “We have a job to do, so let’s do that. Okay?” He practically storms off with a medical service smile, leaving to work on his day.

He's working in one of the more private offices in between appointments, filling out paperwork with the door half open when he sees him. Akaashi’s heart drops, as he watches through the crack of the door to see Nurse Kiyoko escorting a figure he knew all too well into a different room. Not his room, Akaashi didn’t have an appointment scheduled for 2:00 in the afternoon, not anymore. Bokuto’s shell-like figure motions through and the door closes, his sweater that once hugged his muscle curves now hanging loosely. It has not even been a week but still-

Go talk to him.

“God, no,” Akaashi tries to interrupt his thoughts, dizziness swarming his vision as he slams his head against the desk, almost falling asleep if it were not for the fact he was on the job and he would surely be greeted with nightmares if he did.

It was killing him.

Akaashi figured it was rather ironic, how a dying man was killing him like this. It was not fair, it was not right, but what was worse was the ache in his chest to know Bokuto was down the hall with a new doctor because Akaashi couldn’t keep his lips to himself.

“Dr. Akaashi?” He feels a single poke on his shoulder, and he remembers his head is still on the desk of a rather dark office. Yet, he has no desire to get out. “Akaashi? Please get up,” another poke, he realizes it’s Kiyoko.

He also realizes how dizzy he is feeling rather suddenly.

“My apologies…” Akaashi attempts to lift his head up, vision blurring in and out. One single glance at Kiyoko and he lays his head down on the desk again, groaning as a headache continues to beat his head from the inside out.

Bokuto. I miss him.

The thoughts don’t stop, the constant reminders that he truly was happier when around Bokuto, and he could never pinpoint exactly why. There is a lump caught in his throat when the only barrier to a mental breakdown in the middle of the medical office is his own exhaustion, tiredness which keeps him from being able to lift his head off the desk.

It’s as if he’s falling.

“Akaashi? Let’s get you to lay down, I’ll check on you. Okay?” Before he can even realize it, his arm is slung half over Nurse Kiyoko, his eyes opening to face reality for the first time in minutes. An empty office moves to an empty room, his movements ragdoll-like as Kiyoko practically props him up onto the examination table like a toy.

He remains silent as he lays on the bed, idly watching as she takes his blood pressure, the only noise in the room the pumping of the tool. “Just a bit low. Not terrible but not the greatest,” she mumbles, laying the blood pressure cuff on the side. “You don’t look well, Dr. Akaashi.”

“Just tired.”

“I don’t think so,” she sighs while Akaashi feels a shiver go down his spine. He’s cold, stoic, hard-to-read, but Kiyoko sees him like an open book. After all, like-minded people simply know better, they just do. “What’s on your mind? You haven’t been sleeping well, I can tell. What keeps you up at night?”

Bokuto.

The kiss.

Being in love-

No.

“How did you know that you fell in love?”

Akaashi, what the hell are you doing?

Akaashi’s eyes are half-lidded when he asks the question, hardly aware of the weight the question holds, but he pushes onwards. “I can’t feel those things, but you are like me… personality-wise at least. How did you know?”

The oxygen is sucked out of the room when Akaashi lets the words fall out. He’s half aware of his whole situation when Kiyoko goes to sit in the chair in the room. “Well, it’s different for different people,” she starts. “For some people, it’s how much they want to have sex with the person, that physical intimate connection,” Kiyoko speaks, rather bluntly.

Akaashi swears he’s about to throw up.

“I disagree with that, but it works for some people,” she shrugs. “For me, I found out how much I was valued. How much he valued me, wanted to protect me. With that, I realized I wanted the best for him, more than anyone else. I realized how important he was to me, and I couldn’t let that go.”

Letting it go?

“People laughed at me; you know?” Kiyoko gives a small chuckle, surely thinking of her lover. “For the first few weeks of dating, I couldn’t say I love you. The words left this awful taste in my mouth, and I had no idea why. I felt terrible too, because he would say it to me every day! Despite that little bump, he knew I loved him. I just couldn't say it yet, and that’s okay. People move at their own pace.”

Their own pace?

“Well, it took me about three months to tell him I loved him. He cried when I said it for the first time. He never doubted it, I just expressed it in different ways. Ryu always knew how important he was to me, and we made it work.”

Akaashi wants to ask more questions, but the dizziness invades him and tries to bring him back to his rational self. Hanahaki surgery survivors like him can’t feel those things, so why bother? His mouth is awkwardly dry as he turns away to face the wall, curling up on himself.

He isn’t sure whether to feel hopeful, or to cry.

“You should take one of your breaks, just so you can get back on your feet. I’ll come back when you’re needed, I know how much you probably want to get back to things,” it’s a lighthearted joke laced with kindness, one Akaashi will learn to appreciate.

“We should talk more often,” Akaashi mumbles as Kiyoko turns off the lights to ease the migraine engrained in his brain. Had the conversation helped his existential dread? Not particularly but Kiyoko had this certain aura of peace wherever she went, something Akaashi feared would fade when she left the room.

“We should.”

~

He gets up after about 15 minutes, the anxieties creeping in as he goes to finish his day of patients (none Hanahaki) and later day of paperwork. It’s as if he’s almost out of the tunnel, avoiding it all till he can go home for another sleepless night.

“Akaashi?” Just his luck, Akaashi is interrupted from filling out a form for a middle-aged woman. The clinic is almost all shut now, just Sugawara and Akaashi left now. Of course, it started with them, so it shall finish with them. “Can we talk?” Sugawara’s voice almost breaks as he sits in the chair near Akaashi’s.

Akaashi looks at his computer, unable to make the eye contact. Despite that all, he stops typing and lets out a shaky breath. “Look… I messed up. I can’t stay here, I’m quitting. I’ve made my decision already, so don’t try to convince me otherwise.”

“Akaashi…” Sugawara shakes his head. “You’re the most amazing doctor I’ve ever met. As your coworker, I respect your decision. As your friend, I can’t just let you go like this. I thought things were really looking up for a bit, you’ve seemed happier. What happened?” The final question repeats in his mind, interrupted by the comment of his happiness status. He hates that Sugawara is not wrong.

I have been happier.

The words repeat and haunt him, Akaashi turning his chair to face Sugawara. “I…”

He let it happen.

No, I made it happen. No matter what, it’s my fault.

“Akaashi?”

“I kissed Bokuto.”

Sugawara goes silent, paling as he grips the edge of the counter where they are sat. “When I brought his groceries to his house the other day, one thing led to another and we kissed,” Akaashi puts his hands over his face, tears threatening to pour. “I don’t know how it happened, or why, I just know I hate that it happened. I can’t walk in here every day for the rest of my life knowing what I did.”

There’s a long pause of silence, Akaashi looking up until Sugawara goes to break it.

“Why are you still here?”

“What?”

Sugawara repeats himself, the two of them making eye contact for the first time. “That happened days ago. Why hasn’t he put in a complaint about it? How does he have the bravery to walk in here today? Why do you still have your license? Why are you still here?”

“He said he wasn’t going to make a complaint,” Akaashi mumbled the words and that is when they truly set in. Bokuto said he was not going to make a complaint?

How could Bokuto forgive like that?

“So, I’m going to quit.”

Sugawara shook his head, hands trembling. “Who initiated it?” He asks, only met with silence. “Akaashi, I know this stuff is new to you but sometimes people do things that-”

“Stop trying to defend me. I did, okay?” The dizziness from lack of sleep is truly getting to him, getting worse by the hour. His vision blurs as the nightmares race in his brain 100 miles an hour. “He asked to put my hand on his chest and then my hand moved towards and- oh my God, I’m never seeing him again, I can’t.”

“He asked you to put your hand on his chest?” Sugawara asks.

Akaashi responds cautiously. “Yes, he did.”

“You made moves before you kissed him, which he didn’t reject?”

“…Yeah.”

Sugawara’s eyes widen a bit, almost in surprise. “And he still says he doesn’t want to file a complaint or anything? That he doesn’t want your apology?”

Akaashi brings his fist down against the table, a single tear streaming down his face as he wipes it away profusely. “What point are you trying to prove?” He glares. He has no idea why his anger is coming out against Sugawara when it’s more himself. “Sorry…” he quickly backtracks, leaning his back against the seat. “I’m just… on edge.”

“You’re fine. I’m just trying to say that maybe…” Sugawara pauses, sighing and shaking his head. “Never mind. Thanks for telling me. Even if Bokuto doesn’t seem to be mad, I’m glad you’re being responsible.”

You need to figure it out on your own.

Akaashi nods, gripping the edge of the counter while anxiety attempts to weave its way into his cold heart once more. “So, you’ll let me go?”

“Yeah, I’ll let you go,” Sugawara gives a soft smile. “Just, finish the two weeks? Finish what you started, Akaashi. Just these two weeks, I know it’ll suck if it’s morals you’re after, but please,” despite Sugawara’s typically aloof demeanor, it’s as if he is pleading with Akaashi to stay, at least for now. “I know you wouldn’t do anything like that with anyone else, so that’s why I’m asking you to finish these two weeks.”

Akaashi takes a shaky breath, nodding hesitantly. This was his only passion ever, and if he was going to throw it out, he would at least finish what he started. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“We cool?”

“We’re cool.”

Akaashi watches as Sugawara, half on the verge of tears, rushes in for a hug. For once, it reminds him of his residency. Akaashi, with limited experience and knowledge rushing into the arms of a doctor who welcomed him with kindness when the rest criticized his coldness. A doctor who told him they would build a clinic together to save lives when the big medicine industry failed.

Sugawara was important to him. Akaashi didn’t love him, but he treasured him, and maybe that’s good enough.

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 8688 Chapter: 34/42 Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

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Chapter 34

“Was it necessary to send us off with a two hour breakfast?” Madara rolled his neck, looking for the angle to crack it so he could finally be free of the crick that had been bothering him for the past forty minutes. At his side Tobirama scoffed.

“After the consistent excess of the last seven days do you really need to ask that question?”

“I suppose not. It was all just so…so…”

“Excessive.”

“Yes!” Madara paused to sigh with relief when his neck finally cracked and then immediately took up the rant again. “I mean, sure he’s an important man. In a way. But he would probably be a lot more useful if he actually did something with his time other than pander to his own entertainment and turn every occasion in to a massive party!”

Tobirama hummed. “When I was last in the city he had no time for celebration because he was tending to important matters. I think perhaps he simply saw an opportunity. From what I heard things have only just settled down after the attempted coup, the last of the conspirators have seen their trials, so it’s possible he was using the excuse of celebrating our good deeds as a chance to bring the morale back up and reinvent the image of his reign. If the people remain unhappy and tense that can only create a perfect breeding ground for more discontent.”

“You know, I hate it when you’re logical.”

“I did know that.”

Madara harrumphed and quickened his pace to pull ahead as a sign of his own discontent. How dare Tobirama disprove his irritation with logical reasoning and simple deductions? Of course he couldn’t stay mad for long when Tobirama caught up and smoothly wove their fingers together in a firm grip. The man really did know his weaknesses.

Pretending to be grumpy and ignoring his husband was supposed to be a punishment for Tobirama and yet as the silence continued Madara discovered that it was really just as terrible for him. Silence gave room for all the thoughts he’d been trying to keep at the back of his mind to rush forward and make themselves known all over again. Naughty thoughts. Thoughts that definitely did not make continuing to walk any easier. He’d been trying not to let his mind travel down this path since they woke up and for this very reason.

As a grown man several years past when shinobi were considered to reach adulthood he knew it was just a little ridiculous to still be nervous about the idea of intimacy. He knew that not everyone from his clan actually followed the traditions as strictly as he did, people like Susumu-sensei who cared very little for whether or not they ever fell in love and gave their bodies away whenever they felt the desire to do so. With the way the Senju were raised he would not be surprised if there were still a part of Tobirama that thought he was being completely ridiculous holding out for such a subjective landmark as knowing for sure that he was in love. And yet here he was walking in silence and knowing that he was ready but also mentally spinning in circles with anxiety. Feeling anxious about this felt a little stupid, admittedly. Sex was supposed to feel good but even if it didn’t it wasn’t like he’d never felt pain before. Madara wasn’t really sure what precisely was making him nervous, actually, which only served to make him feel even more stupid.

Whatever stupid catch his brain kept stumbling on he was determined not to let it have any effect. He’d known for a while now that he desired his husband. No stupid overemotional thoughts should have the power to stop him from experiencing those things if he wanted to.

But kami forbid Tobirama notice. Madara wasn’t sure he would outlive the embarrassment of Tobirama having to console him again for not being ready. He was a grown ass adult and he did not need anyone to hold his hand when he was nervous like a small child afraid of the dark. It was nice but he didn’t need it. Especially not because every time he was allowed a glimpse behind his husband’s barriers Madara couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt for how badly he could tell the man wanted to take the next step between them. At some point he really needed to find a way to show his gratitude for Tobirama’s patience and accommodation as they danced around each other trying to navigate the maze of their own emotions.

Eventually the silence grew overwhelming and Madara struck up a conversation on the first thing to cross his mind, blurting it out with little thought just to distract himself from the stupidity he had already gone over in his own mind a hundred times and more.

“You look a lot better now than you did a few months ago.” It took a great deal of effort not to shrink with regret as soon as the words were out of his mouth but somehow he managed to stand strong under the baffled look Tobirama turned to give him, clearly unsure if he should be insulted or not.

“I think I need a little more context on that statement.”

“You just look healthier I mean. Because you’re sleeping properly and you’re not skipping breakfast to avoid me. And…I’m glad.”

“Oh.” Tobirama paused, probably trying to think of how to respond to that. “Did I really look all that bad?”

Angling his steps to walk a little closer, Madara pressed their shoulders together in an approximation of a hug. “Sometimes you looked like you were going to fall apart in a strong breeze. Your eyes didn’t just have bags, they had entire suitcases. I’m sorry that I turned you in to that.”

“The misunderstandings between us had fault on both sides,” Tobirama assured him.

“Did they though? You thought you already knew me after writing all those letters. There’s no way you could have known it wasn’t me answering them.”

“And there is no way you could have known I ever wrote them in the first place. Looking back, I should not have been so aggressive in my approach. Neither of us reacted very well to each other that night but we’re happy now and that’s more important, yes?”

Madara looked away to hide his smile. “I suppose I could be considered happy.”

“Oh is that how it is?”

When he peeked back over Tobirama was smiling too with a light in his eyes that Madara had gotten to know quite well. His husband was indeed happy and there was a domestic sort of joy in knowing he was the cause of it that made everything inside him settle quite suddenly. All of the nerves that had been bothering him hung suspended as he wondered why he was wasting the effort to worry when Tobirama had proven time and time again that he would always be kind and caring. The reserved front he presented to the rest of the world was just that: a front. In private he was so much more. He was everything Madara had ever dreamed of.

The rest of their day didn’t feel quite as nerve-wracking as the beginning had. Even the casual unhurried pace they travelled at was able to keep him in a calm, contented mood as they made their way towards home. Since they weren’t rushing the journey would be stretched out over two days again so they made camp that night by the edge of a small lake from which Tobirama caught several fish for their dinner. After spending a week in a massive bed that could have fit three other couples on the mattress with them he almost expected the limited space of their tent to feel a little claustrophobic but once they bedded down he realized that it made very little different since they slept curled together anyway.

Passing through the village gates after the second day of travel was done with very little fanfare, the gate guards waving them in after a brief chakra scan to ensure their identities. They were still proudly expressing their satisfaction with the improvements in village security when they passed under a second set of gates marking the entrance to the Uchiha district and were nearly mowed down by a relatively small body. Madara watched with disgustingly sappy thoughts as Tobirama allowed Kagami to practically crawl all over him in greeting after being apart for more than a week.

“Where’s my hello?” he demanded after the initial happy screeching had passed.

“Hi!” Kagami smiled at him and then immediately turned back to his teacher, who was now shaking lightly with suppressed laughter. “I’m glad you’re back sensei! Are you going to leave again soon? Please don’t! When can we train again? I promise I did all my exercises every day while you were gone!”

Neither of them could get much of a word in edgewise as he prattled on, recounting in almost painful detail all the progress he’d made on one of the simple chakra exercises Tobirama had been teaching him. Admittedly his husband did look fairly impressed, deeply engaged in just a few sentences, so even though it chafed a little Madara very carefully stayed quiet and allowed the two of them to reconnect.

One might think he wouldn’t be quite so protective of Tobirama’s time after just spending more than a week together all day every day but for the most part those days had been filled with social events and attending scheduled performances where they were required to sit prominently as guests of honor. Having the Daimyo’s regard should not be this troublesome. Now that they were home he’d been hoping they could at least enjoy the rest of the day with just each other, no interruptions and no forced socialization, but it seemed his dreams were not to be. Kagami followed them all the way home and invited himself inside to continue chattering away as Tobirama puttered around the kitchen to whip them all up a very late lunch.

It wasn’t until he very gently mentioned that the two of them needed to unpack that the boy seemed to talk himself out but even then he extracted several promises before he left for Tobirama to give up his lunch hour the next day so the two of them could meet at their favorite training grounds. The sound of his little legs stumbling down the porch steps faltered for a few moments only to be followed with the impact of shoes against dirt belying the leap he must have taken, bounding everywhere as he was wont to do. In his wake Tobirama stood in the middle of their living room holding his travel bag and sighed almost wistfully.

“He’s getting so big.”

“As long as he stays shorter than me I’ll be happy,” Madara grumbled, turning away to head for the laundry room. The sound of Tobirama chuckling followed him down the hall.

“Most of your clansmen tend around the same height as you but at the rate he’s sprouting up I don’t know if you can count on that.”

Throwing his pack down so he could tear it open in search of all the dirty laundry he had accrued, Madara harrumphed, repeating the sound louder when he stood up to feel a hand slipping around his waist. “Growth. What a ridiculous notion. All children should stay small.”

“Smaller than you, you mean?”

“Yes!” Tossing his clothes in the right baskets was a little awkward while being held against another solid body but he didn’t really want to pull away so he made it work. “They stay small forever, I stay young forever, all the elders can kick the bucket because they’re nosey old coots with outdated ideas, and everyone gets to be happy.”

Tobirama pressed a quick smooch to the side of his head. “It sounds like the perfect world.”

Choosing to ignore the dry tone those words had been delivered in, Madara nodded magnanimously and waited until Tobirama released him to sort out his own laundry. Then he gathered up the rest of his things and made his way upstairs to sort them out. Nothing had ever been quite as relieving as walking in to his own bedroom knowing that everything in this room belonged only to them and no one would ever dare to disturb them here. It was like walking in to a haven, an oasis, a pocket of calm removed from the rest of the world. The moment he was inside all plans of unpacking flew out the window. Madara forced himself to at least set his bag down against the dresser before slipping away to the bathroom to rinse of his hands and face.

Then he returned to the bedroom, shed his outer layers, and let his body collapse across the familiar surface of their mattress just as Tobirama walked through the door behind him.

“Someone is happy to be home,” his husband noted and Madara let out a quiet purr. “Not even going to finish sorting your things?”

“It can wait,” he murmured.

“Your things can wait, perhaps, but it will drive me insane if I don’t unpack my own.”

Listening to the sounds of the other man rummaging around the room, just the quiet domestic sounds of everyday life, somehow worked as the most soothing lullaby. Madara drifted off before he even realized what was happening, startling awake from his impromptu power nap perhaps ten minutes later when Tobirama shut the door to the bathroom. A moment later there came the sounds of the shower running and he smiled. He was not the only fastidious one between them.

Now that he’d had his little moment of lethargy he felt just refreshed enough to sit up and stare consideringly at where he’d dropped his possessions. Should he unpack? Tobirama had said it would bother him not to unpack his own things but he hadn’t said anything about Madara's. At the very least he should probably move his bag so it was a little less in the direct path of where either of them would be walking. Being someone who tended towards clumsiness in the mornings, he could testify that the less tripping hazards present the better.

A dissatisfied groan rumbled up in his throat as he forced himself to swing him legs out and stand up slowly. Standing up was so much worse when he could have been lying down. A few more dissatisfied rumblings escaped him as he snatched up the pack and poked his nose in, trying to decide if he had the energy to sort through the contents. He decided no. The canvas made a very light thump when it landed in the corner and the sound was further muted by the sound of footsteps coming back in to the room. Either Tobirama was just that tired, dragging his feet along the carpet, or he was putting in a conscious effort to make sound when he walked so neither of them startled the other.

It was still a little surprising to feel soft lips pressing against the back of his shoulder, pale skin flashing in his peripherals as Tobirama brought one hand up to push the giant mass of Madara's hair aside so he could leave a row of kisses down the back of his neck as well.

“Welcome home,” he said and Madara furrowed his brows in confusion.

“You came home with me.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t give you a proper welcome.”

It took a few moments of thinking for him to read between the lines, distracted as he was with the gentle affections. When he realized what the other meant he flushed a little. Partly with embarrassment for being so slow and partly with a shameful sort of eagerness. Maybe he should have showered too.

“Go on then,” he breathed. “Show me what you think a proper welcome home entails.”

Tobirama wasted no time pulling him around to face each other and Madara barely had a chance to register the almost serious expression before he was swept away with a deep kiss that gave him a new understanding of that old phrase about floating on nine clouds or something. Already a genius at many things, it was almost unfair that he should be so good at this too and yet Madara could not find any desire inside him to complain. He was the one that benefitted the most after all.

Strong hands framed his hips in a tight grip but they did not linger for very long. Soon they were travelling upwards, skimming along his sides in a touch that somehow felt almost lewd despite there still being layers of clothing between them, dipping inwards to caress his chest before sliding up his vulnerable neck to bury themselves deep in the mess of his hair. When Tobirama gripping two handfuls tightly Madara whimpered at the sensation. He’d never thought having his hair pulled would actually be a pleasant experience but he wasn’t exactly upset to be proven wrong on the point. If Tobirama wanted to prove him wrong on anything in the bedroom he couldn’t say he would ever be upset about it when the results were this good.

At some point he realized that he was doing little more than standing still and allowing himself to be pawed at by the admittedly welcome beast in front of him. What exactly he should be doing was difficult to figure out with such a pleasant distraction taking up most of his cognitive processes but eventually he muddled his way in to a decision that maybe wrapping his arms around the strong shoulders before him would be nice. That was simple enough. Bringing his hands in to proximity with all that pale soft hair made him wonder if Tobirama would make the same noises as him to have the strands gently tugged on.

He did.

Such a delicious discovery was enough to keep his attention riveted further, enough distraction that he barely noticed the shuffle of their feet as he was led slowly backwards until he was caught between the solid body in front and a tall dresser behind. It was not a trap he was upset to find himself in. Not even when those clever fingers stopped tugging senseless patterns in the back of his head to slide down instead and pull inquisitively at the knot of his obi. All he could do was pull Tobirama in a little closer and tilt his head the way his husband did sometimes to deepen their kiss, satisfied to earn himself a quiet groan of appreciation.

What finally caught his attention and brought him back out of the building haze was the sensation of cool air against his chest when the panels of his shirt were tugged a few inches apart. His eyes fluttered open to find Tobirama watching him with a very careful expression, something almost reserved in his eyes caging in the heat Madara could see just waiting to pounce. For a moment he couldn’t imagine what would make such a confident man hesitate at a time like this. Then he scoffed.

“If I haven’t stopped you yet then I think it’s safe to say I’m fine with this.”

“You’re sure?”

“Stop asking me if I’m sure,” Madara growled, “and do something. I’m not the one that knows what he’s doing here, you’re sort of the one in charge.”

He hadn’t intended for his words to be sexy in any way, had been trying to cover up any lingering hints of the last of his insecurities, but he realized what they might have sounded like only when Tobirama’s eyes widened and the cage around his obvious desires fell away with one heated look.

“If I’d known that’s how you felt about it…”

With a wicked grin he dropped his gaze to trace the red spreading out across Madara's cheeks. Which, of course, only made the blush darken.

Flustered, Madara did the only thing he could think of to prove that he was completely and totally not at all in any way whatsoever embarrassed by what was happening. A quiet snarl of determination echoed through his teeth as he reached down to fumble some more with the knot in his obi, a little too tight after getting dressed in the limited space of their shared tent that morning. He continued to struggle with uncharacteristically clumsy fingers until another pale set laid themselves over his own.

“May I?” Tobirama asked and he swallowed against a lump in his throat.

“If you want to.” He couldn’t think of a good way to say the idea of Tobirama undressing him was incredibly erotic and he had no problems indulging in one of the most common fantasies he had been able to cobble together with his lack of experience and vivid imagination.

Yet somehow in all of his imaginings he had apparently been forgetting one key detail that ramped up the heat exponentially. Those eyes. Keeping still was difficult when he found himself equally caught up in the feathery touches of clothing sliding away from his body and the heat of those pretty red eyes increasing with every inch of skin revealed. Madara had expected to feel exposed, expected he would need to fight off the instinctive urge to cover himself up. He did not expect how feeling the weight of that hot gaze made him want to puff out his chest and preen like a bird fluffing out its feathers for display. Feeling so desirable gave him the confidence to reach out and slip his fingers in to his husband’s clothing so they were undressing each other at the same time.

When he stood bare in nothing but his fundoshi and a puddle of cloth at his feet Madara easily gave in to the tug on his hands drawing him over towards the bed, though he did frown petulantly at having his work interrupted. Tobirama was still wearing trousers. By the light pressure on his shoulder he could tell his partner was trying to topple him backwards but he resisted and reached instead for the ties he was still trying to unknot. For a moment he was distracted by a hot flash of triumph for being allowed to do as he wanted with the other man’s body.

Then the ties came undone and Tobirama’s pants slithered down his body to tangle around his ankles and Madara's eyes were, surprisingly, drawn lower than the naughty bits he thought he would be staring at. His gaze was instead caught on the ring of thick pink scar tissue around mid-thigh on the leg to his right.

“Ah,” Tobirama mumbled in an offhanded fashion. “That would be from one of the more violent laboratory accidents before we improved safety measures. I did say we got the leg reattached just fine.”

“Gods above,” Madara swore under his breath and sat heavily on the edge of the mattress.

Slipping a hand underneath his chin, Tobirama lifted his face up so their eyes could meet. “Does it bother you?”

“The idea of losing you to your own enthusiastic stupidity? Yes. A bit of scarring? Not in the least.”

“Understandable. Well then, allow me to distract you from such thoughts.”

Grinning suddenly in a way that reminded Madara of a hungry beast, Tobirama freed himself from the pool of his own clothing with a couple of swift, elegant motions then reached down to take Madara's hands in his own. He drew them to either side of his fundoshi with one eyebrow lifted in question but left the option of what to do from there to Madara, busying himself with combing his fingers through the long mane of dark hair that always seemed to fascinate him.

It took a few moments to frantically gather his courage but eventually Madara was able to convince his trembling digits to pull at the twisted fabric before him. Their position, he realized only as he pulled, was much more suggestive than he was sure Tobirama had intended. With him seated and the other still standing his face was at the perfect level to stare as a long pale cock was revealed to hang full and heavy between them only a few inches from his startled gaze. Despite many visits to different public onsen and bathhouses he’d never actually taken the time to be so rude as to stare at another man’s genitals. The only frame of reference he had was his own body. As far as cocks go he supposed there wasn’t anything too different between them, they were both the same general shape with small differences in length or girth, so he wasn’t entirely sure what made his mouth water as he continued to stare.

His staring must have gone on for too long and he only stopped when a low rumbling chuckle jerked him back to reality, Tobirama bending down to kiss him soundly. When his husband pulled away Madara flushed deeply.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“You are more than free to appreciate me with that expression any time you like, anata.”

“Oh gods…” Madara covered his face with both hands, mortified, too scared to ask what sort of embarrassing look he’d been wearing just now.

He ignored the swish of footsteps across their carpeted floor, grateful that Tobirama was making the effort to make noise but content to stay hidden in his little pocket of shame until the footsteps returned and he squawked indignantly to be pushed down on the mattress. Tobirama laughed unrepentantly but was at least polite enough to wait for Madara to scramble back a little further before crawling up in to the bed himself.

And he did not stop crawling in a deliciously predatory way until he had fit himself right between Madara's legs, hovering over him with both arms holding his weight to either side of Madara's head and hot eyes tracing lines across the willing sacrifice underneath him.

“You would not believe,” he whispered, “how badly I have wanted this.” Something in the way he spoke gave the impression that he wasn’t only talking about sex but reading between the lines would have to wait for a day when Madara was not entirely focused on his need for discovery, the all-consuming heat building inside him that, between them, only Tobirama would know how to sate.

“Maybe I wouldn’t. But you can have it now.”

“I want all of you, anata. Every part of you. Every inch and every thought and every beat of your heart; I want all of it to belong to me.”

Struggling to draw breath, Madara reached up to pull his husband in and whispered in the fractional space left between their lips. “I already do.”

What possessed him to word his sentence like that he couldn’t say but the effect was more than worth any lingering embarrassment he might have felt for declaring himself so openly. Something in Tobirama’s eyes shattered in the best possible way and he flowed forward to take Madara's lips as a warrior takes his victory, unhesitant and unrestrained, no apologies and no quarter given. Keeping up with his kisses would have been difficult enough even without the distraction of his wandering hands. Madara writhed as the roamed freely across his body leaving trails of fire in their wake. If he gasped Tobirama deepened their kiss. If he arched Tobirama pressed their bodies closer.

It wasn’t until he felt those overwhelming fingers pulling at something on his hip that he remembered there was a single barrier left between them but he was so aroused he couldn’t think of a single reason it should not be done away with. Who had time to be embarrassed? Clearly he was much too busy gasping for air and writhing under the sensation of Tobirama’s hard cock rutting in to the crease of his groin, tucked in alongside his own and oh so good the way they rubbed together.

The exact progression of events existed to Madara as a hazy blur of heat and touch and lewd sounds he hadn’t even realized he was capable of making. Somehow Tobirama’s hands managed to be everywhere at once and yet always just where he needed them to be, stroking without teasing and driving him ever higher towards heights he barely recognized. He’d touched himself before. Obviously. But no shameful quick strokes of his own hand could ever compare to the feeling of teeth scraping up the sides of his neck while Tobirama’s weight rocked them both in to the mattress in a steady rhythm. Madara hardly had time to recognize his end before it was coiling tighter and tighter and he fisted both hands in his husband’s hair, throwing his head back with gritted teeth and praying not yet, not yet, not yet.

“It’s alright,” Tobirama’s voice rumbled against the shell of his ear in panting breaths. “Come for me, husband. Let me watch you fall apart so I can put you back together – and take you apart again.”

If Madara whimpered there was only the two of them here to know and never tell another soul.

Then for a few eternal moments the very knowledge of his own existence was wiped from his mind, whimpers and any other reactionary noises entirely forgotten in the rush of cumming harder than he ever had before. His back arched off the bed with the force of it and his arms lifted off their own accord to wrap around Tobirama’s shoulders and hang on for dear life. When he hit the mattress again he was panting harder than the first time his sensei made him run fifty laps around the old Uchiha compound.

“Oh sweet flames,” he whimpered. “You’re going to do that again?”

“I’m going to do that better,” Tobirama corrected him, pulling away to leer seductively. Madara gaped at him stupidly. The very concept of pleasure any better than that seemed impossible but he’d never known this man to be a liar.

“Prove it.”

Again it seemed he had blurted out exactly the right thing to say without meaning to, something he absently noted would bode well for them doing this again in the future. With all the hunger in his eyes of a man deprived his appetites for more than half a year Tobirama crawled back down the bed and drew his tongue straight through the mess Madara had just made of his own stomach. It should have been gross. Madara wondered if he could pass the heat in his cheeks off as anger instead of the arousal coursing through him, making him twitch no matter than he had just experienced release.

Why, in the name of all things holy, had he never tested his own refraction time before? What a waste of an inquisitive youth.

On the upside Tobirama seemed determined to test that for him. Whatever magic he was working with that tongue of his certainly seemed to be doing a good job of bringing Madara's body back to attention must faster than he would have thought possible. The sensations were so overwhelming he almost missed it when hands began to roam his skin again, just another layer in the sensory overload, but when he did finally notice Madara was glad that he did.

It would have been all too easy to dismiss the touches as no more than aimless pawing at his person, as sensual groping with no purpose other than to arouse. And he might have dismissed them as such but for the tenderness in Tobirama’s face when his husband flicked those pretty red eyes up to meet his own for a single brief moment. Then he understood. Madara closed his own eyes and drew in a breath that shuddered, body shaking, emotions almost as strong as the touches driving him wild – touches that said more than words ever could. He’d known since the two of them finally started getting to know each other that Tobirama had been raised in a world where he learned to speak with his actions rather than his language. And he’d even thought he was coming to understand the way his husband expressed himself but oh how he hadn’t known what he hadn’t known.

No kind gesture of making tea or carrying him to bed when he fell asleep on the couch could ever compare to the messages conveyed in the tender hands tracing every inch of his body like memorizing a masterpiece with touch alone. Every press of those fingers was a declaration of love, every stroke a promise, and each time the touches paused to linger somewhere in particular Madara wished he knew the words being pressed in to his skin like reverent prayers. He would learn this language too if it killed him.

And it might, he decided, if the pleasure continued to mount beyond the bounds of what he could understand. By the time one of those wandering glorious hands slid around to trace the edges of his most intimate place Madara was almost too caught up in the beat of his own heart to notice. He definitely noticed when a little oil was added.

“Hah!”  

“Should I slow down?” Tobirama’s voice rumbled from where he was lavishing attention on the line of Madara's oblique muscles.

“N-no! Shut up! Just…that’s not…I didn’t expect…shut up and don’t stop, damn it!”

He ignored the chuckle which meant his partner was laughing at him in favor of biting down on a drawn out moan, entirely engaged with the sensation of a long thing finger sliding inside him for the first time. Suddenly he regretted all the times he had staunchly decided against touching this part of himself and yet somehow at the same time praised himself for holding out. As unprepared as he was for this new wave of sensations he was glad that Tobirama was the one to help him discover them.

Or maybe it was just that he was glad he’d never explored himself like this with anyone he was related to in the same house where they would have surely heard the shameless noises spilling out of him one after another. Even the palm firmly tucked over his mouth couldn’t contain the litany of gasps and moans – and it was only one finger! Madara's eyes fairly rolled in to the back of his head when he felt a second nudging at his entrance.

“Will you even fit?” He didn’t realize he’d spoken out loud – in a very breathy voice – until he felt Tobirama’s weight shifting off the mattress and looked down to see one pale eyebrow lifted in a disgustingly attractive smug expression.

“That’s what the stretching is for, love.”

Madara would have responded if he could string anymore words together but the friction of Tobirama’s fingers sinking inside him and the warm glide of the oil between them stole his attention back much too easily. His eyes snapped open to stare sightlessly at the ceiling with shock when he felt a hot tongue laving at his nipples but, already well past the point of being able to separate the massive tangle of input, it was hard to tell whether he really did like the feeling or if he only did because the rest of his body was so sensitive already. Not that it mattered. He felt good and safe and that was all he cared about.

Three fingers felt almost like too much at first but by that point Tobirama was smart enough to move up and distract him with kisses, for which Madara was grateful. For every inch their bodies that he could feel pressing together he felt grounded, captured in the moment, as though the mere presence of the man he loved was a safety net without which he might actually fly to pieces. His mind did its best to focus on the kisses while his body could do nothing but shake.

When the fingers inside him pulled away Madara shocked himself by almost whining for them to come back and he had to bite down on his lip to stop the flood of questions that tried to spill out, forcing himself to stay quiet and observe as Tobirama leaned away to pick up the bottle of oil he hadn’t seen before. He’d had sex explained to him when puberty hit. And he’d had to sit through it all again when Susumu-sensei caught him asking questions about boys instead of girls. He knew what the oil was for, why Tobirama was pouring out a little more. Unexpected was the muted noise that made Tobirama turn his head away as the tips of his ears turned pink.

“Eager?” Madara couldn’t help but tease in a breathless voice.

“More so than I have ever been before,” his partner admitted. “Your people may have been on to something with the idea that love changes this experience.” Wryness twisted his lips a little but Tobirama shrugged away any shame he might have felt for his words rather easily.

“Are you…”

The way his words trailed off must have made him sound unsure. Tobirama hesitated, pulling his hand away from where he had been spreading it on himself and capping the oil to let it drop to the side of the bed. “Not if you–”

“Kami, stop asking if I’m ready!” If he added enough grumpiness to his voice then maybe it would cover the lingering nerves. He only needed one look to see he hadn’t fooled anyone, that Tobirama could see right through him, and on any other day he would have appreciated that his husband knew him so well.

He didn’t say anything more, though. So that was nice. Much nicer was the kiss hot and deep that kept him centered as Tobirama shuffled his weight around to situate his body a little more comfortably between Madara's legs. When he rocked his hips forward this time it was an aborted motion that brought the head of his cock up to Madara's entrance without pushing inside, almost like a false start to warn of his intentions. And it was, apparently, a good thing that he did since every muscle in Madara's jumped with shock despite the fact that he was more than expecting it.

Tobirama broke their kiss to duck down in to his neck but he caught a flash of amusement before teeth dragging at the lobe of his ear stole the words he was about to say. He was ready the next time, resolutely keeping his muscles loose when he felt the nudge at his entrance, though there was nothing to be done for the heat in his cheeks. The nibbles on his ears turned to soft kisses trailing down his neck as the pressure increased. All the thoughts in his head melted together until all he knew was the push, the pressure, the moment before completion. Then his back was bowing up and his fingers fisting in Tobirama’s hair, eyes wide as he tried to process the sensation of being quite so full.

Only when quiet words murmuring in his ears slowly began to filter through the fog did he realize how laser focused he was on the connection between them. Slowly, gradually, the world came back in little pieces and he listened to Tobirama murmuring small reassurances in a voice that sounded like he was barely holding himself together. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one a little overwhelmed here.

“Move!” he managed to gasp eventually and Tobirama did not need to be told twice.

Curses spilled out of him immediately but the murmuring against his neck never stopped and the sound of his husband’s voice worked amazingly to keep him grounded until he was able to think through waves of pleasure he could hardly believe. But when he was able to think again he wished he could sink back in to that strange space outside of awareness. Of all the possible reactions to finally having everything he’d ever wanted in life – love, a husband, a moment they could come together and celebrate that love – the one reaction he would never have expected from himself was the urge to cry. Madara was tempted to scream at his own body for betraying him like this.

Salvation came in the form of a bitten off groan in his ear and a powerful shudder running through his limbs. Focusing on Tobirama’s pleasure was so much less mortifying than his own. And it came with the added benefit of puffing his chest out with pride because that was his doing. He was the reason Tobirama’s infamous self-control was cracking.

A little taste of that power left him craving for more, unsurprisingly. Madara wracked his distracted wrung-out brain for a way to drive his husband as close to the edge as he already was again and when an idea came to him he gave himself no time to think it through, turning his head to pant his words against the sweaty skin of Tobirama’s temple. Or he tried to, at least, most of his words broken and interrupted as he writhed under the feeling of being filled over and over in a steady rhythm.

“Feels g- you feel good! Shit you- ah! There!” The mortification that burned through him at being so vocal was made entirely worth it when Tobirama let out an unfettered noise that could only be described as desperate, spurring him on. “I love you.”

“Nnnnh! Anata, stop.” Incredibly, Tobirama’s voice came out as a whine.

“You d-don’t – haaah! – like my words?”

He did not expect Tobirama to bite at his ear again and confess in a low rush, “I like them too much, you minx.”

Yet another steady rocking of pale hips and Madara saw stars behind the fluttering of his eyelids. He wanted to say that sex wasn’t anything close to how he imagined it, so much better than the shades of minor pleasure he was able to give to himself under the covers alone, but his lungs constricted around the words and his tongue was busy crying out against pale skin where he buried his face in a strong shoulder. Sex was nothing like he could have known. Making love, he corrected himself distantly. They were making love.

It even felt like love, something he had quietly hoped for when he was young with stars in his eyes and then later mournfully rejected as romanticism as his bodily urges towards Tobirama grew more and more animalistic. He did feel like an animal, his body rolling and thrashing in his efforts to ride the hot intrusion sliding in and out, but it also felt like love in the way Tobirama surrounded him on all sides and pressed against him with as much skin as possible. Pale fingers stroking his hair. Warm lips murmuring promises in to his skin. This was base lust but it was also love and the combination made his gut twist in a way he most certainly recognized.

Someday he might achieve the same level of shamelessness as the man above him but in the state he was now there was not a force on earth that could help him find the words to warn his husband of the tension building at an unstoppable rate. Try as he might he just couldn’t force himself to say it, settling instead for pulling Tobirama up in to a frantic kiss, biting and licking in a frantic way that startled them both. He wanted to say something, though he had no idea where the urge was coming from. If he opened his mouth with so much frazzled energy hummed underneath his skin he was sure all that spilled out would be an endless litany of babble and nonsense – or worse, confessions of all the depraved imaginings he’d constructed in his mind and every way Tobirama had blown his expectations out of the water.

“Anata,” Tobirama’s voice brushed against his ear, husky and irresistible. “Say something else.”

“You- you told me – nnh – to stop!”

“Changed my mind. Shit, just, Madara.” He’d never heard his name in such a debauched way and Madara found he couldn’t be bothered to rationalize his husband’s change of heart. All he could do was give the man what he asked for no matter that he’d just decided it was a terrible idea. In that tone he would give Tobirama what he wanted.

“I love you,” he blurted, the first words that came to mind.

The shattered sound his husband made might have been enough to send him over the edge on its own, though they would have to lay together again for him to figure that out. With a particularly harsh snap of his hips Tobirama drove deep and hit something inside of Madara that made his vision go white and the coil inside of him snapped so hard he echoed his partner’s scream.

No orgasm had ever felt like this one. Spilling over his own fist after hurriedly palming himself under the covers was nothing like this. This was lights behind his eyes and muscles contracting, knuckles as white as the hair they gripped and throat raw with the force of expressing himself. Nothing existed outside the solidity of the man in his arms and the thickness of the length still grinding inside him as though determined to make him lose his mind entirely. Unlike the quick burst of pleasure he was used to this was an arched spine he couldn’t seem to unbend and stickiness between their bellies that he could never have caught in his fist like usual. Several minutes passed before he could hear past the ringing in his ear, the rest of the world fading back in to focus as well.

An exhausted, loopy sort of grin spread across his face when he finally heard the way Tobirama was murmuring under his breath, probably entirely unaware he was doing so judging by the soppy romantic nonsense he was spouting. They had made love. If he had a little more energy he might have been tempted to go shout that from the rooftops and rub it in his brother’s face. It might have taken them a few months extra to get there but they had finally – happily – consummated their marriage. This really was the rest of their lives.

Now he was exhausted and cramped and his belly was a little gross. The aftermath of sex wasn’t quite as romantic as he pictured it to be. Lazy open-mouthed kisses began traveled up his neck, down the line of his chin, and as they reached his own lips Madara thought that he could not possibly care less for the supposed reality of the situation, not when Tobirama seemed determined to keep holding him close and kiss the breath right out of him.

“You’re heavy,” he grunted finally, half-heartedly pushing at one shoulder of the body flopped over his own. Then he muffled a protesting whine as Tobirama fairly shot upright.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Without even waiting for an answer his hands were stroking wherever they could reach in what Madara had to admit was quite a soothing manner. Unnecessary but soothing all the same. He had a feeling that his side and chest were not where he was going to be sore later.

“Not used to holding my legs open this wide for this long.” Saying so brought the red back to his cheeks and he cursed it. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long for the ingrained shame of these activities to fade.

Tobirama blinked and looked down at the place where their bodies joined with one eyebrow raised, prompting Madara to cover his eyes with one hand. He didn’t need to look there! The hand stayed until he felt cool lips pressing a kiss against the back of his fingers and a voice warning him that his partner was about to pull away. He wondered for a moment why he might need warning, it was basically the same motion they been doing together for the last several minutes, he didn’t see why it should be any different now. Then Tobirama slowly began to pull away and it stole a sharp cry from him before he bit down on his lower lip to cut it off.

Okay. The warning was necessary. He really hadn’t anticipated how sensitive that area would be now.

It made sense when he thought about it. His intimate parts were usually quite sensitive to the drag of cotton as he pulled his clothing back in to place after relieving a bit of tension. But how was he supposed to know that there could be quite that sensitive? He opened his mouth to ask – then shut it again and wondered if sex brain was always going to trick him in to asking stupid questions.

Letting his husband clean him was somehow even more mortifying than anything else had been but all it took was one pointed look and Tobirama asking if he wanted to do it himself for Madara to subside, hand back over his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch. His good behavior was rewarded with more kisses against random patches of skin until as much of the oil had been wiped away as possible and the blankets they’d made a mess of had been straightened around them. When Tobirama crawled in to bed he only made it partway across the mattress before freezing in a rather comical four-legged stance as he caught sight of Madara's expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re…not going to get dressed?”

“I hadn’t planned to.” Sitting back on his haunches was no less comical looking, though he didn’t seem to care. “Does that make you uncomfortable? I can if you’d like me to.”

Madara glared at him. Even after everything they’d just done he was still being sweet and considerate. Unbearable. “It’s fine! Everything’s fine! Just get in the bed!”

They had just been rubbing all against each other quite intimately, after all. It really shouldn’t bother him to stay naked if all they were doing was falling asleep. As his husband crawled in Madara tried not to picture getting called out of bed for some emergency that had him booking it through the streets with his bits swinging in the breeze. Somehow, he wasn’t sure how, he just knew it would be one of their brothers’ fault.

His suspicious musings were cut short by warm fingers brushing down the back of his arm. He looked round to find Tobirama smiling up at him from the pillows, arms opened in an invitation he was all too happy to accept. Burrowing in to that pale chest and breathing in the scent of sweat and love-making was much preferable to imagining catastrophes that hadn’t happened. Yet. He very nearly purred when he felt the hands on his waist dig in to slowly scratch up and down the length of his back in absent circles, a most excellent distraction no matter what stupidity was clogging up his brain.

“Will you say it one more time?”

“Hm?” Already the fog of lassitude had begun to fall over him and Madara had to fight his way through it to figure out what that meant, responding in a quieter voice. “Oh. I love you.” He hummed contentedly when the arms around him tightened.

“I love you too, Madara.”

With all his heart he believed that. It was the single most freeing assurance he had ever experienced in his life and as he lay there in their home, in their marriage bed, he wondered if he would change anything about their journey given the chance.  Then he snorted very gently and determinedly settled in for a quick nap before the rest of the world came to bother them as he knew it would. What use was there in wondering about the past with such a wonderful future ahead of them?

[aiiwa]

BETWEEN YOUR THIGHS ― IWAIZUMI, KUROO, BOKUTO, AND SUGAWARA.

✗ REQUEST: i’ve been seeing all over tiktok the whole lay between your s/o thighs trend (idk if you know the trend) but i wanted to see it with the hq boys. so could i request iwa, kuroo, bo and suga🥺.

― iwaizumi hajime, kuroo tetsurou, bokuto koutarou, sugawara koushi.

⤷ genre: fluff

⤷ warnings: suggestive content (everything i write at this point is suggestive lmao), i got lazy proof reading this but i’ll come back to it

⤷ word count: 3.1k

― a/n: i was very soft writing this hehe, also;

me to me: let’s limit this to 500 words per character

also me: almost writes 1k just on kuroo.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

after two long weeks apart, with iwa having to travel overseas for work, he had finally come back home to you. work trips weren’t uncommon, but often left you alone, missing him more and more with each day apart.

it took everything in your power to hold yourself back from jumping on him, the moment you caught sight of his bulky figure walking out of the airport terminal.

and now the two of you were on your way home. after bickering over who would drive, iwa now sat leaned back in the driver’s seat, large hand engulfing yours on your lap and the other gripping the leather steering wheel; skillfully maneuvering your car down the snowy streets. fiddling with his long fingers entwined between your own, you bring his hand up to your mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.

glancing at you from the corner of his olive eyes, you could see his soft smile under the flickering glow of the streetlights. he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, before his focus turns back to the road.

ten minutes pass relatively quickly, with iwa shifting the gear into park outside your shared home. he trails close behind you, warm breath tickling the side of your neck and duffle bag slung over his wide shoulder, as you unlock the front door.

“welcome home.” you whisper, tilting your face up to look at him.

iwa’s quick to drop his bag, spinning you around by your hips to pull you flush against him. wrapping your arms around his neck, you giggle at the feeling of his hands dipping lower to give your ass a loving squeeze.

“i missed you, baby.” he breathes out, before leaning down to capture your lips.

the kiss is sweet and slow, you indulge yourself in the familiar feeling of his soft lips; before his tongue darts out to trace against the pout of your bottom lip, asking for permission. you moan into him as your tongues brush against each other sensually, dragging your hand from his nape to caress his jaw; you jolt away as your palm brushes against the icy cold touch of his ear.

“haji! your ears are freezing!” you hiss, both hands now tugging at his ears.

chuckling lowly, he grabs at your wrists lightly. “ah, i know...why don’t you warm them up for me?”

“huh?”

overwhelming thoughts of how exactly iwa intended for you to warm his ears up, clouded your flustered mind. in a flurry of movements, he lead you into your bedroom; freeing you from the tight denim of your high-waisted pants, and having you perched up and leaning against your fluffed up pillows. the fuzziness in your head starts to clear up at the sight of iwa stripping off his long sleeved shirt, exposing the toned muscle of his stomach and chest.

crawling towards you and parting your legs, he presses a kiss to the inner side of your knee, before he flips over and slides his read right between your legs. you blink once, then twice, watching as he grabs your thighs, wrapping them around his neck and squishing his face.

“well, this...isn’t exactly what i was expecting.” rubbing your thighs against his ears to get used to the freezing touch.

iwa hums contentedly, patting the side of your leg. “mmm, don’t worry baby, we’ll save that for a bit later okay?” heat rushes to your face as he calls you out on your thoughts. “i just wanna lay here and feel you like this for now.” you push your hands against your face, feeling how warm your cheeks are, before iwa grabs at your wrists softly, bringing them over to kiss your palms. “just lie with me, okay baby?”

with your hands caressing the sides of his face, you nod, smiling softly. “okay, haji.”

KUROO TETSUROU

working together with kuroo for japan’s volleyball association was amazing. for the most part that is. it’s how the two of you met, he’d charmed you into a first date by his second week, and it was almost three years since then.

you spent every day with your boyfriend at work, and every night together in bed. but sharing a busy week schedule filled with back-to-back meetings, interviews with athletes for potential promotional videos, and late nights in the office filing the never-ending build up of paperwork - meant weekends were very much looked forward to.

lazy sundays being your favourite.

the day usually started well into noon, both of you enjoying the extra undisturbed hours of sleep - since the blare of kuroo’s six a.m. alarm wasn’t ringing in your ears. he’d greet you with a drowsy rasp - “good morning, shorty.” - making you giggle before dragging him to share a steaming hot shower with you; . and with a towel wrapped around your head, bare legs on show underneath the hem of your boyfriend’s large shirt, you’d sway in front of the stovetop flipping pancakes while a shirtless kuroo sliced up your favourite fruits - music from his playlist playing softly in the background.

if the weather allowed it, you and kuroo would sit out on the balcony of your apartment; basking in the warmth of the sun, admiring the way his hazel eyes reflected gold. yet this sunday, a storm was raging outside.

“why is she giving a rose to that prick yamato? fuji deserves it way more than him!” kuroo calls out.

you were only half invested in the bachelorette marathon playing. rain spat against the fogged glass; heavy lidded eyes followed the trails made by the racing raindrops. you were tucked snugly into kuroo’s side, a long arm wrapped around your shoulders, and legs tangled under the softness of the new periwinkle comforter you’d bought the other day. kuroo’s laptop rested on his lap, and you jostled about as he shot an arm out to point at the screen accusingly.

“are you seeing this, y/n?! now she’s choosing sachihiro! over fuji?!”

humming half-heartedly in response, you squeeze yourself closer to kuroo; dragging your hand over his bare chest, and resting it over his heart. you could feel his heartbeat against your palm, thump-thump thump-thump, and the steady rise and fall of his chest began to lull you to sleep.

the sound of your soft snores, pulled kuroo’s attention away from the show.

“shorty, you sleepin’?”

at your lack of reply, he chuckles lowly, shifting around to put away his laptop. you were always the first to fall back asleep, especially after eating good and coming back to bed to cuddle. pulling you closer to him, he smiled at the sigh you released against him; before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and resting his cheek on his pillow. the smell of your strawberry shampoo wafting around him, was the last thing kuroo remembered before he joined you in the dream world.

laying on your side with half your vision obscured by the fluffy pillow under your head, you blink away the sleep as you gaze outside the window. the rain had come to a slow drizzle, with the skies still fairly bright meaning only an hour or so had passed while you were asleep.

“tetsu?” you call out.

usually the rooster head would be pressed right up against you, but you couldn’t feel or see him. attempting to twist your body around, you find your movements constricted. it was only when you tried once again to lift your leg up, that a hand slid around your knee to halt your movements.

pushing yourself up a bit, and resting on your elbow, you glance down to find your boyfriend’s head between your thighs, back of his head pushed against your pelvis. because the two of your are on your sides, the full weight of your left leg over his shoulder has his cheeks smushed together; but kuroo seems completely unbothered, in fact he’s just scrolling through instagram on his phone. when you reach a hand down to tug at his inky hair, only then does he glance up at you.

“are you alright down there?” you ask. “can you even breathe?”

“i woke up here, and i don’t plan on moving any time soon.” kuroo hums, the vibration from his throat are ticklish against your inner thighs. “i’m living my best life, wanna see my new lock screen?”

without waiting for an answer, he shows off his new lock screen - which really happened to be a live photo displaying a collection of pictures with kuroo’s face squeezed between your lush thighs. you can’t help but laugh, kuroo’s cackling joining you. slightly embarrassed at the thought of someone catching a glance at his lock screen, you pull at his hair; complaining about the possibility of being exposed.

kuroo slaps your hands away from his hair, still chuckling. “i don’t care, shorty. i look good between your thighs, don’t you think so?”

flustered, you yank on his hair again. “shut up, rooster head.”

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

while waiting for bokuto to come back home to you from his training with the msby jackals, the last thing you expected was to receive a call from his teammates. it was your day off, and as you were loading the last of you and bokuto’s laundry, your phone began to vibrate - the bright grin of a certain tangerine-haired cutie flashing across the screen.

“hello?”

“hi, bokuto-san- ah, um, i mean y/n-san!”

you chuckle lightly at hinata’s correction. ever since you announced your engagement with bokuto, the younger male had started addressing you by your fiancé’s surname. in the background you can hear atsumu yelling out to you, followed by sakusa complaining about his loud mouth. you were more than familiar with bokuto’s close friends and teammates, from the countless team dinners and nights of drinks hosted at you and bokuto’s townhouse, you shared a solid friendship with everyone.

“ah, shou-kun, everything okay?”

“um, well i just called to let you know that bokuto-san didn’t have the best time at training today.”

‘oh no, poor kou,’ you thought to yourself, heart tugging at the thought of bokuto being sad. his somber moods were a rarity these days; it had actually been almost a year since he’d been in a slump, and he usually loved his trainings, so that meant today must have been extra tough on him.

“i see, thank you for telling me shou-kun.” after listening to hinata’s retelling of the events at training, with side commentary from atsumu and sakusa; you all exchanged goodbyes before ending the call.

with the chance to avoid being unequipped for bokuto’s gloomy return home, you were grateful for hinata’s thought to warn you. it gave you an hour, from his shower to the drive back home, to prepare some of his favourite things. normally it involved inviting akaashi over, but with him out of town, it left you to your own devices. though after being with bokuto for so long, it wouldn’t be that hard.

you knew your man like the back of your hand.

he was probably starving after practice, and what better than to cook some barbecued meat for him - his favourite, with the special sauce you always made just for him. after making some side dishes and rice, you set the table for the two of you, leaving the meat to stay warm in the oven while you went for a quick shower. bokuto made it know how much he enjoys the smell of your cherry bomb body wash, yet today you opted to lather on his orange body wash. knowing the smell of him on you made him crazy, you dried yourself off and decided to wear his old shirt from high school; the baby blue of ‘the way of the ace’ shirt, with the faded black characters.

you had just finished throwing your softest blankets and fluffiest pillows onto the couch in the living room, when you caught the sound jingling keys at the front door. leaping over the back of the sofa, you ran just in time for the door to open.

“kou!” you exclaimed, leaping as soon as you see his bulky figure enter through the doorway. his gym bag landed on the wooden floors with a thud, as he caught you easily in his arms. “welcome home! i missed you so much, baby!”

bokuto’s hold on you is tight. “hi, y/n…” there’s none of the usual chirp in his voice, and you squeeze him closer to you, peppering kisses on his face.

“are you hungry? i made your favourite.”

offering him a small smile at his slight nod, you slid out of his grasp, taking his hand to lead him to the dining table. when he saw the table set, barbecued meats on display, he tugged you to a halt; staring at you with round, golden puppy eyes filled with appreciation. you sat on his lap as he ate, with your arm hooked around his neck; allowing him to feed you, as he listened to you talk about your day. and when the two of you were done, bokuto offered to finish off the dishes while you lounged on the sofa waiting for him, netflix loading on the wide screen television.

distracted by the trailer of some netflix original film, your caught by surprise when bokuto slides face first between your thighs. with his cheek pressed against your pelvis, he shifts your legs over his broad shoulders, thighs almost obscuring his face from your vision if it weren’t for the frosted tips of his hair sticking out. running your fingers through the slightly damp, silken strands; you felt you relax in your embrace, releasing a contented sigh.

“kou?” he hums in response, arms sliding around your thighs as he nuzzles his face into your smooth skin. “i know today wasn’t the best, but there’s always a tomorrow. just remember that i love you so much, and i’m here...okay baby?”

lifting his head slightly, thighs resting by his jaw, he sets his chin just below your navel. staring up at you, he takes your hands in his, slippings his fingers between yours.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispers, slightly mumbled. “thank you for everything.”

giving his hands a loving squeeze, you start explaining the new movie you want to watch. and with his interest piqued, the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon in the comfort of each other; bokuto tracings patterns on your leg, and your hands tangled in his hair.

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

it had been almost a month since you and suga’s return from your honeymoon. after spending an amazing three weeks on a tropical island with your newly wedded husband; strolling along sandy beaches, scuba diving in clear blue waters, and spending warm nights making love under the stars - it was safe to say you were missing the time away relaxing.

so when daichi called your husband during the week to make plans for the long weekend, you were more than happy for a mini getaway to tokyo with your old high school friends.

and that’s how you found yourself, guava oil spread across your skin, stretched out by the poolside, and sipping your umeshu tonic through a pink swirly straw. the boys had decided to take a dip and cool off in the pool, while you and kiyoko had taken to some sunbathing. it was a little after midday, scorching sun at its peak; and the golden rays captured the sparkle of the princess cut diamond of your engagement ring resting between two matching, diamond encrusted bands.

“you’re going to blind everyone with all those diamonds, y/n.” blinking away the daze you’d caught yourself in, you chuckle at kiyoko’s teasing.

“speak for yourself, soon-to-be-mrs-tanaka.” you shot back, nodding at the glimmering engagement ring on her own finger.

the two of you giggled like little school girls, cheeks flushed and eyes closed in mirth; only stopping when a sudden wall appeared, blocking the warm sunshine, and shadowing over you. the wall being none other tanaka, suga following behind.

“kiyo~!” tanaka coos, leaning over his fiancé. “you look hot- uh, i mean it’s pretty hot, y’know.” 

kiyoko simply raises an arched brow, listening to tanaka’s rambling; which quickly turned into the latter throwing the her over his shoulder, and running back towards the pool. she hadn’t even protested at his manhandling, taking to sending you a look that said ‘what can i do?’. with the two of them gone, your full attention was set on the sight of suga.

now standing next to you, his hazel-brown eyes glanced over your laid out figure in appreciation; entranced with the way your bikini top dug into the soft flesh of your breasts, drawing attention to the deep valley of your cleavage. your own keen eyes took in the sight of his slender build; admiring the way his soaked canary trunks hung low on his hips, polyester sticking to his thighs and leaving little to your imagination. with his chest exposed, glistening under the sun as droplets of water slid down his toned stomach - it suddenly felt as if the air had become ten degrees warmer.

“hey there, this seat taken?” suga asks, tilting his head and running a hand to push back the damp, grey strands out of his face.

“oh, this seat?” you ask, gesturing to the lounge chair you were occupying.

your brow’s furrow slightly in confusion, though you gasp when he trails ticklish fingers over your thigh, before squeezing the soft flesh. “no, this one.”

chuckling, you hold your left hand up, wiggling your jewelled ring finger in front of you. “sorry sir, i’m a taken woman.”

suga just grins at you cheekily, leaning forward to press his soft lips against your own. this kiss is brief, but the lingering taste of his mango chapstick and chlorine has you a bit dazed; allowing him to part your legs and slide himself right between them. laying on his stomach, your legs rest by his sides, his fingers teasing the hem of your bikini bottoms.

“ah yes, that you are, sweetheart. and i’m the lucky man who gets to call you mine.” with his cheek is smushed against your thigh, his words come out slurred; but the dreamy look in his eyes as he stares up at you is clear.

“and i’m lucky to have you, koushi.” you whisper in return, the weight of him over you is comforting and you find yourself leaning back into the lounger; as suga nestles himself closer into you.

“mmm, i love this...laying right here between your thighs, sweetheart.”

© 2020 AIIWA. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.

[t0wnspersonb]

Rest (Bakugo Katsuki x Reader)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,515

Warning: SMUT, LANGUAGE

I’m literally in love with Bakugo Katsuki. I’ve had this idea in my head for a while and I might make this a small series, I love me some domesticated shit and I hope you guys do too. This is the first smut I’ve ever written so please keep that in mind as you’re reading lmao. I hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugo sighed deeply as he dropped his duffle bag to the ground with a soft thud. His red eyes burned with exhaustion, his body felt incredibly heavy tonight after his shift. 

It wasn’t that he disliked being a top pro-hero, far from it. 

In fact, if someone were to ask him if he hated or loved being a hero he would scoff at them and blast their ass.

Of course he loved his job.

Becoming a pro-hero was his dream, the ultimate goal in his life. The amount of hours, blood, sweat, and tears he had put into his training was not for nothing.

Of course he fucking loved his job.

But sometimes. 

Sometimes he wouldn’t mind being able to rest.

Like now.

Now, all he wanted to do was eat and sleep.

Bakugo flipped the light on in the kitchen, taking notice of the just washed dishes in the dish rack and the scent of cleanser lingering in the air.

Y/n must’ve cleaned up before she went to work. He thought briefly before opening up the fridge to see what was available to eat. 

His expression softened once he laid his eyes on the plate of food wrapped up with a note on top.

Missing you a lot today, don’t overwork yourself.-Y/n

After reheating his dinner he sat down at the table, sighing deeply once more now that he was finally off of his feet.

It had been a long couple of days. A couple of weeks of nonstop back-to-back hero work. Which meant that Bakugo was rarely home, either arriving far too late into the night, or leaving far too early in the morning. There were only small traces that he had actually been there, a coffee cup left in the sink, the bathroom being damp still from a shower.

It was weeks like this one that were incredibly taxing on Bakugo, and that was because he never got to see you. 

His wife. 

It also didn’t help that your work schedule at the hospital was just as busy. Almost seemingly as the exact opposite of his.

He figured you had another night shift tonight as he headed to the bedroom.

But he froze at the doorway.

The tightness in his body melted completely as he gazed at your sleeping figure. 

You were curled up under the blankets, fast asleep, and completely unaware of the tall man staring at you.

Bakugo couldn’t move fast enough.

All he could think about was curling up against you tonight, holding you close, and burying his face into your hair.

He had missed you too much.

He stripped down to his underwear and moved to slide under the blankets, his expression further softening as he noticed that you were wearing one of his t-shirts.

Carefully coming up behind you, he moved to wrap one of his arms around your waist. He pulled you in close, tucking you into his chest easily.

But you were roused awake from the sudden movement.

“Katsu?” you mumbled softly, eyes still heavy with sleep but you shifted your body so that you were facing the warm solid man now next to you.

“Go back to sleep.” he grumbled, both of you settling down against one another. He peered down at you with a gentle expression.

He had never seen anything more beautiful. 

“How was it today?” you hummed softly, slinging your right arm around his broad shoulder, your leg kicking up to wrap around his waist. 

Bakugo wrapped his fingers around your thigh, tugging you closer. His hand was big and warm, the roughness of his palms and fingers felt perfect against your soft skin. 

A touch you were desperately craving the past couple of weeks. 

“Dumbass Deku got overrun with the villains we were chasing down, I had go and save his stupid ass.” he grumbled, moving his hand up to slide into your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns into your back.

“Hmm.” you sighed softly, nuzzling your nose against his collarbone, inhaling that familiar burnt caramel scent.

Both of you were quiet for a moment, enjoying each other’s company. It was clear that both of you were exhausted, but neither of you had gone to sleep just yet.

There was a hum in the air.

A familiar one.

You looked up at the man that you’ve known your entire life. His eyes were closed, but you knew that he wasn’t asleep.

Your gaze started at the top of his head. His spiky hair was more disheveled than usual, but you knew that it was incredibly soft and perfect beneath your fingers.

Moving your eyes further down you took in his perfectly arched eyebrows and long lashes, but beneath that you noticed the dark circles framing his lower lids. 

Frowning softly at your husband’s apparent lack of sleep you continued your search against his face. 

His nose was perfect, and just below it, those soft full lips.

Your stomach flipped pleasantly. A familiar feeling bubbling in your lower stomach.

He was fucking beautiful.

And that was just his face. You knew that his body was just as perfect, if not better.

It was as if Bakugo Katsuki was sculpted from the gods themselves. 

How you were married to such a beautiful man, you didn’t know. It was then that you started to be more aware of those muscular arms that were wrapped around you. Those strong, thick fingers gripping your upper thigh tightly.

Your heart rate picked up, and you shifted slightly, attempting to get closer to him.

“Stop staring at me, shitty woman.” he grumbled, cracking one eye open to peer down at you. “It’s fucking creepy.”

Now you remember how you ended up with this beautiful man. His shit fucking personality. 

I guess it’s true when they say you can’t have it all, you thought dryly. Of course your husband couldn’t be a gorgeous man without having some kind of flaw. 

It was actually a wonder how you guys had been together so long. 

Childhood friends turned lovers.

You had been by his side since birth it felt like. 

Considering your mother and his mother were good friends, it was bound to happen that you two would be as well. 

You were the complete opposite of Bakugo. 

Kind. Sweet. Gentle. 

You weren’t in the hero course when you had gone to U.A., rather you had gotten into the support course.

Which wasn’t a problem for you. You didn’t want to become a hero. Rather, being able to help behind the scenes and being able to support those that wanted to be on the front lines, protecting and saving people, like your husband.

“Don’t be mean Katsu, I haven’t seen your grumpy face in weeks. Can’t a wife just look at her husband?” You grumbled pinching and pulling his cheeks.

He huffed angrily, grabbing your wrist and attempting to pull your fingers away from his face. “Let go, that fucking hurts.” he growled. “Stupid woman, you think I want to come home and be pestered like this?”

You snorted, an amused expression on your face as you ignored Bakugo’s increasing insults and attempts at stopping you from pulling his cheeks, increasing the pressure of your fingers on his face.

“You little shit.” he growled. He gripped your wrist tightly and shifted one of his legs to be between your thighs and moved, heaving you onto your back. Your wrists were pinned on either side of your head, Bakugo above you.

Oh fuck.

The position you were in caused your heart rate to pick up once again. Your eyes flickered down his body, appreciating the bulging muscles and the way his boxers now hung lower on his hips. 

The smirk on his face wasn’t helping the situation either. 

“Like what you see?” he sneered.

You rolled your eyes and moved your leg, shifting it up so that you could press your knee carefully against his crotch.

You could feel his growing bulge. You felt the rising blush in your face and looked away from him, going to move your leg down from its current position. But Bakugo was too fast for you, he grabbed your leg and hitched it over his hip and settled himself between your legs. Pressing himself to your center.

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips. 

“Why are you getting all shy now?” he teased, rolling his hips against yours. 

“Sh-Shut up.” you gasped, lips parting in arousal. “You haven’t even kissed me yet Katsu.”

He chuckled slightly, and released his grip on your wrists, allowing you to slither your arms around his neck, sliding your fingers into the back of hair. He leaned closer down to your face, one his hands grabbing at your jaw, the other one propping himself up to keep most of his weight off of you.

And then he was kissing you. His lips hot and urgent against yours, his tongue already poking through your lips, eager to taste the inside of your mouth.

You moaned softly, arching your body into his as your grip in his hair tightened. 

Bakugo growled against your mouth, grinding into your core harshly.

All thoughts of sleep are now gone. All Bakugo could think about was you, and how much he wanted to be inside of you. It had been far too long since the last time he'd had you, and now, he wasn’t going to wait any longer.

“Fuck, what do you want?” he growled, pulling away from you and seeing your swollen lips. Your eyes were wide and bright, full of want and need. 

His stomach churned pleasantly.

Before you could answer him his fingers were already where you wanted them the most. He rubbed at your clit in harsh controlled circles, his red eyes dark and filled with need as he gazed at your moaning flushed face.

“K - ah - Katsu. Please,” you whimpered, gripping his hair tightly between your fists. Your hips moving along with his fingers.

“Please what? What do you want?” he sneered, applying more pressure before he pushed your panties to the side, his middle finger sliding against your wet slit, but not fully penetrating you.

You felt tears gathering at the corner of your eyes, it had been too long. All you wanted was him to fuck you already. 

“You. I want you please.” you moaned out, bucking your hips up, urging him to enter you already. “Please Katsu, I missed you so much.”

Fuck. 

He missed you too. He was tired of the foreplay already, he needed to be inside you. 

Snarling loudly he all but ripped the clothes off your body before removing his boxers. His member stood tall and gorgeously thick against his stomach.

Your mouth watered at the sight, you wanted it in your mouth.

“Later.” he growled, noticing the look on your face. “I want to fuck you already.”

He spread your legs apart, gazing at you hungrily before taking his cock and rubbing it against your glistening slit, and then he rammed into you.

You cried out loudly as Bakugo set a brutal pace. Hard and fast, and incredibly deep inside your pussy.

It had been too long, your body needing time to adjust to his intrusion, your walls stretching to fit his thickness.

But he wouldn’t let you. Bakugo gave in to his desire and set a pace that had you gasping to keep up. 

Fuck did it feel good though.

The familiar pressure building up within yourself, ready to snap at any minute.

Bakugo was snarling above you, lost in the pleasure of your warm, wet walls gripping him tighter and tighter. He knew you were almost at your limit, he was too. 

He knew he wasn’t going to last long, it had been too long since the last time he was inside of you, but he needed you to cum first.

His grip was bruising on your hips; his mouth sucking and biting at every inch of skin that was within his reach. You knew you were going to have marks in the morning, but you didn’t care. 

His cock rubbed into the deepest parts of you, leaving you breathless and shaking. He always made you feel so full. 

“You gonna cum on my cock princess?” he growled, reaching down and rubbing your clit again. 

Your back arched, your head thrashing against the pillows as your pleasure began to build further up. “Katsu - ngh - I’m close.” you whimpered out.

He smirked, pulling out of your pussy before slamming himself back in.

And that was it.

You came hard, crying out and trembling beneath him, your wetness gushing out and staining the sheets below.

He snarled loudly, jackhammering his hips into yours as he chased his release before groaning lowly in his throat and spilling himself inside of you.

His hips finally stilled, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against yours softly before trailing delicate kisses against the bites he had left scattered across your throat and collar bone. 

He stayed buried deep inside of you as he continued to soothe your battered body.

Bakugo knew that he was never gentle when you guys made love. He knew that his pace was always rough and harsh, but the aftercare was a different story.

After the intense fucking he always gave you, it was important for him to take care of you tenderly. He carefully pulled his softened cock out of you, hushing you softly as you whimpered from the loss.

He watched as his cum seeped out of you, smirking slightly to himself before he pressed a gentle kiss to your hip and got up to the bathroom to get a warm wet cloth to clean you and himself up.

When he came back you were already on the verge of falling asleep again. He sat near your legs, pressing a soft kiss to your knee as he cleaned up the mess he made between your legs.

You hissed softly, your lower body sore and sensitive. He hushed you once more as he finished cleaning up, tossing the cloth somewhere behind him, he’d take of that in the morning.

Starting at your hips he trailed his soft lips up your body, pressing the sweetest kisses into your skin, gazing at you with gentle eyes.

The aftercare was his favorite part.

You were so fucking beautiful like this, completely drained after all the pleasure that he had given you. Your skin littered with his marks, your lips red and swollen from his intense kisses, your hair a ruffled mess around your head after moving it back and forth so much. 

He pulled the blankets over your bodies as he settled next to you, wrapping his arms around your body tightly.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, your eyes closing automatically, sleep ready to take you under.

“I love you Katsu.” you breathed softly, pressing your face into his chest. “So much.”

“Go to sleep.” he grumbled tenderly, placing another kiss to the crown of your head. “I got you."

[the-bau-quinjet]

Tolerate It

Summary: Reader struggles with feeling like Hotch is growing distant.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Category: fluff/angst

Warnings: the reader has thoughts/feelings of inadequacy

Word Count: 3200+

Notes: This is my entry for @railmereid‘s 2k writing challenge! It was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song tolerate it! I think there’s only one direct quote (I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life). 

You met Aaron on accident. It could be said that a lot of people are met on accident, and that’s just how people meet other people. But with Aaron it felt different. It felt as though every little thing that went wrong that day lead you to the accident that would introduce Aaron Hotchner into your life.

After the shit show that was today, all you want to do is get home and sleep. Maybe also eat dinner, but honestly even food is on the backburner of your mind right now. 

Your drive home from work was the first uneventful thing to happen all day, a necessary moment of peace. You made it into your apartment without any trouble, swiftly moving to change into your fluffiest pajamas and sleep.

The second your head hit your pillow, the fire alarm sounded. The blaring alarm screeched in your ears as you groaned. You forced yourself out of bed to comply with the alarm. Without thinking, you put on your slippers, grabbed your keys, and walked out the front door. 

Once you made it to the street, you turned to see the building really was on fire. It looked contained to one patio, but it was big enough for you to give up your plans of sleep. Instead, you chose to turn on your heel and walk down the street to escape the crowd. 

You didn’t have a plan as to where you were going. You just wanted it to be quiet. Before long, you found yourself in a park. Looking around, you spotted an empty bench. Perfect. You can just sit, enjoy the quiet of the park for however long it takes to fix the fire issue. 

You start trekking toward the bench, now walking with a purpose, when you notice a man chasing his child. The child laughs loudly, joy so clear on his face. The man smiles at him, still running behind him. 

His smile is so infectious, it has its own magnetic force pulling you towards him.  Switching directions from the bench, you are now walking toward the grassy area they are playing in, not looking at your surroundings. You’re so captivated by the happiness on display in front of you, you don’t notice the change in terrain. 

You end up tripping on a rock, falling and tumbling down the slight decline to land in a heap at the feet of the very man whose smile distracted you.

To make matters worse, he was not stationary. No, that would have been to simple. He was, in fact, still chasing the child. So, rather than rolling to a stop and looking up at him, you rolled right into him, causing him to lose his balance and fall over you. 

The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs piled on top of each other. Slowly, carefully the two of you separated, gingerly moving arms and legs to avoid further injury. Helping each other rise from the ground, you were both speechless, equal parts amused and horrified at what just happened. 

“Are you okay?” 

You jumped at the sudden intrusion that brought you back to reality. Spinning around, you realized it was the child. 

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to form a response. “Oh, um... yes I’m okay. Thank you.” Turning back to the man, you finally realized what just happened. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He chuckled, a small smirk appearing on his face before he replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh, good.” Your relief was short lived as you realized what you were wearing and how you were dressed. “Please tell me you didn’t see me roll all the way down the hill?” You cringed at the thought. 

“I could say it, but it wouldn’t be very honest.”  Again, a small laugh left his lips. 

“Do you think we could pretend?” You took a deep breath as he quirked his eyebrow. “Ya know, that I didn’t just make a complete fool of myself?”

“But that’s not true! Daddy said when something’s not true it’s a lie and lies are bad.” The boy chimed in again, earning a chuckle from both adults. You bent down to talk to him. 

“You are absolutely right, lying is bad.” You nodded along with him, matching his serious expression. 

He took in your expression, as if judging the sincerity of your statement. Slowly, a smile began to form as if he was glad you agreed with him. “Do you want to play tag with us?”

Looking from him to his father, you took the slight smile and nod of his head as an invitation to accept his offer. “I would love to.”

That series of accidents led you to where you are now, though. A year and a half later you are sitting in your shared home, watching Aaron Hotchner do paperwork for what feels like the millionth night in a row. More realistically, it is the ninth night in a row, but you’re feeling lonely and dramatic. Those nine nights have been spread out over the past month, interrupted by nights he spends away from home.

You yearn to be closer to him. All it would take is for you to cross the room, but it feels as though the distance from the couch you are lounging on to the desk he is working at is too far, like there is some impassible divide preventing you from interrupting him. 

So you just keep watching. It has been 36 minutes since you started your observing. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll pause in nine minutes to stretch, giving him the opportunity to notice your eyes on him.  You’re hopeful that this time he’ll smile when he sees you. 

So you wait. You watch him read. You notice the way his head dips just a bit lower as he tries to focus tired eyes on the smudged handwriting of a fellow agent. You notice how his hand squeezes the pen tighter than before, turning the once smooth glide of ink across the page into rushed, jagged strokes of letters. You notice the barely there wince as he flips the page, the result of the familiar feeling of a paper cut he’s grown all too used to. You notice everything he does. Which is why you’re not surprised when he speaks. 

“You’re staring.” 

Glancing at your phone, you note the time. Nine minutes later. Right on schedule. The smile you hoped for is noticeably missing, replaced by a curious tilt of his head.

“I’m basking in your presence.” 

If he wanted to, he could figure out how lonely and dramatic you are feeling. But with the majority of his energy still directed towards the many reports on his desk, he only notices the surface level. Tired, slightly miffed, but enjoying that he is home.

There was once a time when he would have noticed it all though. A time when he noticed everything about you, sometimes before you had even noticed it about yourself. You’ve learned how to hide it though, to save him the energy that would be expended to profile you. 

“You should consider a new career path. Comedy could really be for you.”

His deadpan joke doesn’t surprise you, but him rising from his desk chair does. For a minute, you expect him to come to you. To attempt to cross the impassible divide you’ve built in your head. Instead, he turns into the kitchen. He pauses at the island, drinking from the glass he never brings to his desk to prevent anything from ruining his files. 

When he returns to his desk, squandering any lingering hope that he may have been done for the night, you rise. Unwilling to do what you had hoped of him, you turn away from his desk and move toward the stairs. Just before you lose sight of him, you turn back. 

“Don’t forget to sleep tonight.” 

Your tone is soft, emphasizing your concern to cover up the lingering loneliness. 

“I’ll be up soon.”

You respond with a slight nod of your head, another thing unnoticed by Aaron as his eyes never left the files. 

You flitter through the second level as you complete your routine to prepare yourself to sleep for the night. 

You can’t help but notice the cold sheets on the empty side of the bed as you wait for Aaron, knowing you’ll likely be asleep before he comes to bed. 

--

You’re surprised to wake up the next morning with Aaron still in bed next to you. You watch his chest rise and fall with the steady in and out of his breath. His face is fully relaxed, a sight you so rarely get to see. 

You’re not sure how long you watch him sleep, but you notice when his rhythmic breathing changes pattern indicating he’s waking up. His eyes flutter open slowly, allowing you to see the exact moment he notices you. 

“You’re staring again.” 

The smile you are still hoping for is again absent from his face, too used to the frown that has taken over his features near permanently for the past month.  

“I’m still basking in your presence.”

You notice the beginnings of a grin forming on his face. The twinkle in his eyes. The slight twitch of his lips. It’s nearly there when the moment is interrupted by the distinct, shrill ringtone indicating a call from the bureau. 

You watch as he sits up to answer the phone with his typical “Hotchner”. If you hadn’t spent the last year noticing everything you could about the man, you would doubt that he had been asleep less than three minutes ago. 

His brows furrow, his body leaning forward to sit a little straighter as he takes in the information from whoever is on the other end of the phone. His eyes trace the pattern of your comforter, up until he throws the blanket off of himself to rise to his feet. He’s changing into his suit before hanging up. Without even hearing his responses, you can tell where this is headed. 

After he hangs up, you speak before he has the chance. 

“I take it you won’t be here for dinner with my parents tonight? I’ll try to reschedule it.” 

The question should express your loneliness, but you do well to hide the full truth. It’s easy to sound understanding because you are. You do understand, which is why you never plan to tell him how you feel. 

The grim expression is enough for you to know you’re right, you don’t need the verbal confirmation. You nod your head, a smile on your face that doesn’t meet your eyes as he walks out of your bedroom. 

--

While Aaron was away, you did everything you could to keep yourself busy outside of your typical 9 to 5 workday. Aside from the typical reading, cleaning, and TV watching you normally do you; you successfully navigated another conversation with your parents about why it was necessary to reschedule dinner a second time and played action figures with Jack, always in agreement about how his daddy is a hero. 

Every night you found yourself staring at the door, hoping it would swing open and reveal him on the other side. Every night you grew less hopeful and more discouraged than the one previous. 

--

Five days after he left, Aaron returned to your shared home. Despite the late hour, you waited for him on the couch. Knowing he probably hadn’t eaten dinner, you kept some food warm for him. 

When the door swung open, you were in front of it in seconds. You pulled him into a hug, one he was too exhausted to reciprocate, and kissed his cheek. 

Moving farther into the house, he dropped his files on his desk swiftly turning to head upstairs. 

“I kept dinner warm for you.”

Your words stalled him at the bottom of the stairs. He turned around slowly, barely looking at you.

“I actually ate with the team tonight.”

His words hit you like a bus, but you turned to hide it. He didn’t eat with the team often, so you never blamed him when he stayed with them a bit longer than usual. 

“Oh, okay. I’ll just put it in a container for tomorrow then. Did you want to talk about the case?”

You’ve always been willing to help him carry the weight of his job, but you’ve been trying harder to get him to open up this past month. Typically he brushes you off, tells you he’s fine, and then buries himself in paperwork. 

He surprised you this time. Maybe he could tell you were upset, or maybe he was just too far in his head. Either way, rather than continuing on his path up the stairs, he moved to sit in the kitchen while you put the food away. 

You listened as he ranted about the local officers withholding information about the case. You listened as he complained about the poor weather. You listened to every word, slowly washing and drying the dishes until they were sparkling. You listened until you were practically asleep, leaning against the sink. You didn’t dare to interrupt in fear he would shut down again. Or maybe it was you shutting down, but that’s a thought for another time. 

When he finished talking, he rose from his chair, too worked up to sleep now, he sat down at his desk. 

You watched, noticing everything you could. 

--

Your weeks repeated much the same for the next few months. Your loneliness morphed into something new with each night you spent watching Aaron work. 

It’s one such night when everything changes. You were trying to watch him work, but your thoughts drifted away from his actions as you lost yourself in your memories. 

The first case Aaron went on after you moved in with him and Jack was the hardest for you. After a straight week of seeing him so often around the house, it felt like a slap in the face to come home and not have him there. Somehow you made it through, and you were clingier than usual when he came home. 

He noticed how it affected you. That was before you started hiding your feelings from him. He told you he thought about you in every spare moment. That he wanted to solve the case even more than usual just so he could come home to see you even just a few minutes sooner.

He calmed all of your fears, protecting you from your own intrusive thoughts about holding him back when he was working. 

You couldn’t help but think about every time he recognized how you were feeling and did what he could to help. How he would reassure you that he wanted to be with you, bringing you little key chains or stuffed animals from the cities he travelled to. How he would smile when he saw you. Where was that man now? 

You thought back to the first day you met Aaron. It was like he saved you from a terrible day, bringing a smile to your face after hours upon hours of crap. 

“Do you think we could pretend?” You laugh lightly to yourself at the memory of Jack telling you not to lie.  Not realizing you spoke the words out loud, you’re surprised to hear Aaron from across the room.

“Pretend what?” The confusion is clear in his voice and the furrow of his brows. 

“Hmm? Oh, um. I was just thinking about the first day we met.” Tears begin to brim your eyes as you think about how much everything has seemed to change. “And how you became my whole world and now I feel like I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life.” The tears are now freely falling down your face. 

Aaron looks even more confused now. “What?” He’s frozen at his desk, pen in hand, reports on the surface in front of him. 

“I’m so sorry. I just feel like I’m taking up so much of your time and you have such important things to do! God, I’m so selfish. I’ve tried so hard to hide it though, so you can focus on people who actually need your help.” The panic in your voice grows as you speak, along with the tears falling from your eyes. 

“Y/N...” Suddenly, Aaron is on his feet, easily crossing the imaginary divide you’ve built in between the couch and his desk. He slows down, moving gently as he pulls you into him on the couch, moving your legs across his lap so he could pull you into his chest. “Sweetheart, you could never take up too much of my time.” He speaks slowly, so as not to start another round of sobbing. 

“What?” Your confusion is clearly communicated with the one word question, but you’re on a roll with your feelings so why stop now. “Are you saying it’s all in my head? Bu-, but, but you’ve been so busy every time you’ve been home! I’ve barely seen you, and I’ve tried so hard to not let it bother me because I know how important what you do is! I do, I understand it all so much. I could never be mad at you for working so hard. I just feel like you’re tolerating me being here when you have so many more important things to do.” 

Now breathless, your rant ends with more tears forming in your eyes. Aaron is quick to wipe them away as they fall. “You’re right. I have been busy.” His voice is full of concern and regret as he thinks about the past few months. “But please don’t ever doubt for a second that you are the most important thing in the world to me.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “Well, other than Jack.” This earns him a slight chuckle from you before you reply. 

“Jack is the most important to me too.” Your clear your throat, hesitant to voice your next question. “You’re not mad at me?”

Aaron looks so taken aback, you would laugh if you weren’t so nervous. “I could never be mad at you. Especially not for having completely valid feelings. I’m so sorry I haven’t been as present as I should’ve been. I love you so much, Y/N. More than I could ever put into words, and I will be doing a better job of showing you just how much you mean to me from now on.” There’s a slight edge to his voice, as though he’s annoyed with himself for you feeling this way. “Please, don’t ever hide your feelings from me. I never want to lose you.” His own voice is cracking, slight tears in his eyes at the idea of you not being in his life. 

“I promise.” You lean up to kiss him, trying to convey just how much you’ve missed him. 

“Let’s go to bed.” He lifts you up from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs. 

You shriek, clinging to him even more. “It’s only 9:15!” You laugh at his antics. “What about your reports?”

“I have more important things to do right now.” He smirks at you, quickly moving into the bedroom to show you just how much he cares about you. 

permanent tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain

[sundaysundaes]

Falling

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Angst | NC-17 | 11K

Summary: In the absence of your warmth, Lee Donghyuck begins to reminisce the loving memories he’s shared with you in the past three years, regretting how your first fight turned into something that ended it all. Lyrics are taken from this beautiful song: Harry Style’s Falling.

Warnings: Unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!), oral sex, alcohol consumption, swearing

I'm in my bed

And you're not here

The small, barely prominent crack on the ceiling of his bedroom has always gone unnoticeable. It stands only as a silent witness of the meeting between a pair of plumps lips to redder ones, the breathless sounds of frantic moans, and the sacred exchange of loving words. But not tonight. Tonight, as he lays on his bed, sheets all crumpled but with the absence of your warmth, Donghyuck notices everything.

He notices how quiet his room—his entire apartment—feels when it’s only the sound of his own, soft breathing echoes through the air. The walls, the carpet, the bedsheets, the framed photographs that remind him of the joy that used to bloom on his face—everything feels monochromatic. Empty. Shallow. Because ever since you walked out of his life, you’ve taken all the colors with you, leaving him solely in black and white.

And there's no one to blame

But the drink in my wandering hands

With the bitter taste of vodka sitting on his tongue, Donghyuck closes his eyes, allowing himself to remember but not forgive the words he once said to you. 

Regrets start to suffocate him at once.

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left

What hurts from a break-up is not the parting of two hearts, but the memories that had been drawn deep within them. It’s not the kiss that he misses, it’s the taste of your lips—the faint scent of strawberry that sits pale in comparison to your natural flavor. It’s the way they move against his own, timid at first then consuming all at once. And how there will be no other girl that will taste the same, feel the same, or emit the same kind of feelings from him.

It’s funny, Donghyuck thinks, how he can only see your smile behind his closed eyelids these days. But he doesn’t find himself laughing. He can’t even remember the last time he found a reason to smile, now that you’re gone.

The moon was hiding behind thick clouds, he remembers, that night when fate walked in and introduced you to one another.

Donghyuck’s eyes were glued to the silver screen, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he witnessed the battle between the villain and the protagonist grew deadly. The thrill of it soon perished, however, when a scent of chamomile shampoo fleeted through his nose.

Your head was falling onto his shoulder as you waned into your dreamland. Unbeknownst to you, you had been leaning your weight entirely to a stranger whose bergamot perfume compelled you to focus on anything besides the movie. It was as pleasant as it was distracting. But after being sleep deprived for three days, exhaustion finally took over and you fell asleep so deeply, you didn’t even have the strength to dream.

Your weight on his body was unfamiliar but it wasn’t uncomfortable for twenty-two years-old Lee Donghyuck. As he took a glance at your face, it wasn’t your beauty that kept him frozen—except for the gentle smile that broke on his lips. It was how peaceful you looked, almost like an enervated child curling up after spending her time chasing butterflies on the field.

Donghyuck shifted carefully on his seat, attempting his best to give you comfort by providing more space for you to lean your weight on. Then he stayed still, his smile never faltered away, the movie long forgotten. He didn’t spare a glance at the screen even when people were gasping at the sight of the protagonist dying in his lover’s arms. He was more intrigued by the thought of your name, wondering whether it would sound as nice as the smell of your shampoo.

When the credits rolled, Donghyuck told Mark and Jeno in hushed whispers to leave without him, throwing icy glares at them when they grinned devilishly at the sight of you sleeping on his shoulder. He went as further as kicking Jeno on the shin when his voice rose too loudly, afraid that he’d wake you up, which made the other man complain because certainly, the background music was louder than anything else in the room.

Nevertheless, you were still deep in your slumber.

Donghyuck begged for more time when one of the concessions workers asked him to leave. Refused and left with no other solution, he sighed and turned his head toward you.

“Hey,” he whispered, heart palpitating in anticipation of finally hearing your voice. “We have to go.”

His voice was foreign to your ears but it was so soothing, almost like a lullaby, that you snuggled closer, wanting to hear more of it. It took Donghyuck three times more with his cheeks reddening to call upon you until you finally found the power to detach yourself from your stupor.

“Hey there,” a boy—beautiful boy—with glowing, sun-kissed skin; round, enticing eyes; and a voice as sweet as honey, beamed at you with a smile so warm, it nearly melted your heart, and you decided ah, I don’t ever want to wake up from this dream.

It was when the usher popped into your vision, stating, “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but we’re closing,” that you internally screamed oh God, no, this isn’t a dream, what have I done?

“So that’s what he said.” Donghyuck’s smile was sheepish with a tint of teasing, and your heart moved on its own, yearning for him to display you another one. “But if you still have time to spare, we can go get some coffees or something. I can fill you in on the details.”

“A—” Your voice was hoarse from sleep, embarrassingly so. “About what?”

“About the movie you just missed.” The grin he showcased grew wider and this time, it was so utterly mischievous that you had to break your gaze before heat rushed to your face. “The fact that you’re here watching a movie by yourself must mean you’re interested to see how it ends. I can help you with that.”

“Umm—” You rummaged your purse, pretending like you were searching for something when it was only a poor excuse for you to not be captivated by his eyes longer than you already were. “It’s fine, I can look it up online.”

“But then what should I do with this?” He brought his right hand in the air, pursing his lips. “My arm’s falling asleep. Shouldn’t you take responsibility for it?”

The horrified look on your face made him laugh, and his laughter became the reason why you decided to throw all common sense away and just went with what felt right.

Awkward conversations made you anxious but they died before you could finish your coffee. They were reborn into something that was supposed to only be shared between friends instead of strangers, but with Donghyuck, everything felt so natural, you didn’t even find the will to question it. His affable, carefree attitude was almost inspiring, breaking through your facade as easy as counting his fingers.

“So, how come you went to the movies by yourself?” Donghyuck asked, his coffee long forgotten on the table as he was more drawn to you and the little smile you retained on your lips. “Boyfriend too busy to come along?”

A bit flustered, you brought your head down, hiding your eyes behind your fringe. “I don’t... have a boyfriend.”

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow, lying his chin on his palm as he rested his elbow on the table. The way he stared at you made your stomach flip, and he reciprocated with nothing but a hum, tapping a finger to his cheek. His tiny smile held a thousand meaning.

You hurriedly took a sip of your coffee. “I, uhh, I had some free time today and it’s my favorite movie franchise—I just got to see how it ended. But all my friends have seen it, so…”

“They didn’t invite you?”

“They did. I was just busy with work.”

His voice dropped an octave lower. “And they didn’t wait for you.”

“It’s—” Your chest tightened. “It’s fine, really. I mean, it would only make me feel bad if they waited for me. My schedule is crazy. I haven’t been sleeping properly for three days because of my deadlines.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” He chuckled and you noticed how his teeth were a little jagged. “I could still smell your drool on my shirt, actually.”

“Oh my God,” you spluttered. “I’m—Please let me wash it for you.”

“And you expect me to walk home half-naked?” His naughty eyebrow raise made your skin tingle. “Or are you inviting me to stay over?” Seeing you part your mouth but lost for words, Donghyuck tittered. “I’m kidding. I would’ve waited for you. No matter how busy you were, I would. And even if I’ve watched it first, I wouldn’t mind watching it again with you.”

You shook your head, both in attempts to disagree with his words and to erase your blush away. “But that would be a waste of money—”

“That wouldn’t be a waste, and you know why?” He leaned closer, body almost halfway through the table. “Because for me, it’s never about the movie. It’s about watching it together with you. About us complaining about the plot holes, talking about the bad acting, laughing at each other when something reminds us of one of our inside jokes. That’s what makes it worth.” As Donghyuck realized how your eyes were locked with his, your breath hitching in your throat with the proximity, he quickly plummeted back to his seat, flushed. “I mean, it applies to everyone—not you, specifically.”

So he could be shy, you wondered. And what else could he be? Maybe buried underneath those mischievous grins, laid a caring heart. Maybe he could be the one who’d understand when you missed three of his calls as you tried to survive your deadlines. Maybe he would cook you breakfast instead of just reminding you to take one. Maybe he could taste sweeter than any boy you’d ever kissed.

So when his curiosity for you matched the intensity you had towards him, you let your walls crumble, welcoming him with open arms.

“It’s going to rain,” Donghyuck mentioned, eyes observing the night sky, dark clouds rumbling as they hovered above you. You were walking next to him, knuckles nearly grazing one another from how near you were though none of you was brave enough to close the distance.

Although obvious, you decided to humor him. “Yeah? How can you tell?”

“‘Cause I’m psychic.” The added wink in the end was a bonus but to you, it became the main reason why you had to drag your gaze to your feet.

Funny how for the past three hours, your smile never faltered away—almost to the point that your cheekbones began to hurt—when you could barely remember the last time you found amusement in anything.

“Are you cold?” he asked, and you promptly shook your head no. Unfortunately for you, your body betrayed you. Donghyuck chuckled softly when he noticed the shivers that ran through your spine. “Want me to lend you my jacket?”

“Oh—no, it’s fine, I’m—”

“It was a rhetorical question, dummy.” The body heat that was imprinted on his leather jacket made you well-aware of just how warm he actually was. The scent of his bergamot perfume was overwhelmingly delightful, but there was another scent underneath it—something that reminded you of summer, sunlight, and sandalwood—that made you wonder, maybe, if he wasn’t wearing this perfume, he’d smell just like this.

He pushed your hair away from your neck, straightening the jacket until it enveloped you entirely with its warmth. “Better?”  

You eventually managed to snap yourself out of your reverie. “Were you always this smooth with women?”

“No, I just practiced in front of my mirror a lot.”

“Practiced what?”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “The art of seduction.”

“Is that so?” Your cheeks began to warm but it was probably because of the jacket. “Guess I should try that sometimes,” you joked.

“I don’t think you need it,” he cooed, bending himself down a little so you were eye-to-eye. “You already have me wrapped around your fingers from the second I laid my eyes on you.” When you became petrified by his words, his laughter reverberated through the air. “Now, that’s an example. How did I do?”

Ignoring your racing heart, you retorted, “Terrible.”

“Then will you let me practice on you so I can get better?”

Just like that, you found yourself sporting another smile. “Now, that’s smooth.”

Your life had been dull, repeating the same routines over and over again with your job taking most of your precious hours. Being with Donghyuck was a breath of fresh air—a stranger who was attentive to every little gesture you made, every little word that escaped your mouth, as much as he easily stole your attention away. His confidence was inspiring, his laughter was contagious, and you adored every little bit of his quirkiness.

“This feels like a date,” he professes, smiling diffidently to himself. “Would it be okay for me to think of it as a date?”

Suddenly, your vocabulary had diminished into nothing but his name. You nodded, and surprisingly enough for you, Donghyuck snickered, hand reaching out to playfully—almost childishly—ruffle your strands. “Thanks. Then a date it is.”

You wished time could go slower so you could savor the moment, memorizing the heart shape of his lips when he grinned.

You stopped in front of your apartment building, a breeze of cold night wind caressing your cheeks. “Umm, this is me,” you said, dismantling his leather jacket of your body. “Thank you... for this.”

Donghyuck’s fingertips grazed against your knuckles and it took longer than necessary for him to retrieve it from your hand. “You’re welcome.”

“And...” Your mind strayed away from forming the right words as you took notice of him wearing his leather jacket, how it fitted him so perfectly, how handsome he looked. “Umm, thank you for walking me back.”

“Thank you for giving me the chance.” His smile reminded you of spring, your favorite season, the way it blossomed on his face, so warm and beautiful. “I could’ve been a serial killer, you know. Showing me where you live isn’t too smart.”

“You don’t look like a serial killer to me.”

“Yeah?” His smile turned impish. “Then, how do I look like to you?”

You were fast to pivot on your heels. “I think I should go.”

His laughter filled the air. “Wait, I haven’t even said good night yet.”

“Then good ni—“ Your words died on your tongue when a pair of plump lips found their way to your cheek, just brushing lightly against the skin but your entire breath escaped your lungs at once. He retraced his steps before you could respond properly, biting the corner of his lip, looking somewhat unsure.

“Sorry if that’s—“ Donghyuck cleared his throat. “Umm, good night.”

You felt lightheaded, and you shortly blamed it on the amount of espresso you’d gulped too much during the day. “Good… night…”

Donghyuck was too bashful to meet your eyes, which was why you were brave enough to sneak a glimpse at his face. You decided that his sly, confident grins looked alluring on his face, but they were nothing compared to how adorable he seemed when he evinced that nervous, shy look on his face.

It took a few seconds before Donghyuck gave you a weak nod and walked away, taking the same direction from where you came. Something queasy grew inside your stomach, your grip around your purse tightening. 

Is it all there is? Am I never going to see him again?

With a heavy sigh, you walked toward your building.

Maybe he doesn't like me that much... But what do I do now? I want to see him again.

I don’t want to let him go without knowing whether I could see him again.

God, for once, just do something for yourself. Do something that makes you happy, be brave!

Taking a deep breath, you chose to gamble.

At the same time you turned on your heels, shouting his name, Donghyuck was calling upon yours and you both met each other halfway, breathless when it didn’t even take you more than twenty steps to reach one another.

“H-hi,” you greeted, voice quivering but not as much as the fingers you curled around the hem of your blouse.

“Hey.” Donghyuck’s gaze softened. “I was wondering—”

“Can we meet again?” You didn’t intend to cut him off so abruptly, but the anxiety within you nearly made your heart burst that you ended up asking the question without waiting for him to finish his. “I—I mean—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“Yes, a thousand times yes,” he answered in one breath, with his sentence ending in chuckles. “You’re adorable, do you know that?”

Your heart was still about to burst but for an entirely different reason. “That’s…” You tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear—a habit that seemed to appear whenever you were too embarrassed to function. “That’s great. I mean, the fact that you want to see me again, not—” Oh God, okay, stop. “Well, then, umm, I guess I should leave now.”

He concealed his grin. “Aren’t you going to ask for my number or something?”

You mentally slapped yourself. “Y-yes, that would make it easier.”

The way Donghyuck was gazing at you made you feel like you were about to fall from the edge of your seat. He must think I’m an idiot. But had you been brave enough to see the gleam in his eyes, you would’ve noticed how he was staring at you so adoringly. “Give me your phone then.” When you just stood still, too busy trying to comprehend that a cute boy was really going to give you his number, Donghyuck added, “To add my numbers, Sweetheart. What, do I look like someone who flirts with pretty girls just to steal their phones away?”

“I wasn’t—” You quickly handed him your phone. “Here.”

Donghyuck’s smile grew playful again. “Care to make it interesting?”

“What?”

“I’ll add my numbers except for the last digit. You gotta guess it.”

“What? Why—”

“Because you’re cute,” he repeated, cocking his head as he returned your phone. “And it makes me want to tease you even more.” You unconsciously began to pout and he nearly whimpered at the sight. “Don’t do that, that’s not fair.”

You mumbled quietly, “I don’t like being made fun of.”

“I’m not making fun of you, I’m teasing you. There’s a difference.” He sighed, fingertips aching to reach out and swat your bangs away from your eyes. “A huge difference.”

You jutted out your bottom lip. “Feels the same to me.”

Donghyuck leaned in, calloused palm finding its way to cup your cheek, lifting your face so the streetlight could illuminate your features. “You need to wash that pout away from your face,” he whispered, eyes slowly going down to your lips that you had to remind yourself to breathe. “Or else I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

It was supposed to be another teasing, you knew he only meant it that way. But all trace of playfulness quickly vanished from his face when he noticed your eyes drifting to his lips—just for a split second—but that was enough. He saw the sign, he felt the chemistry, and there was no way he was going to let it pass just like that. Not when he had been thinking the same thing repeatedly for the last three hours you’d been together.

It wasn’t your first kiss—nor your second or third—but it was the kiss that mattered and you weren’t sure why. Three hours ago, he was a stranger. Now, he sent a trickle of electricity through your bloodstream, as if he was your first love. As if you had been wanting him for years.

A gentle rain began to pour over your heads, tiny droplets staining your cheeks but all you could think about was the way his thumb was caressing your cheekbone, how his lips were warmer and softer than anything you could have imagined, yet fierce and powerful at the same time.

“Am I going too fast?” He asked in a broken whisper, parting away just enough to murmur the question but close enough that you could still feel his words grazing your lips.

“Yes.” But you curled your fingers on the front of his shirt, tugging him closer. Donghyuck sighed into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he let himself drown deeper in passion. What started as a chaste kiss became ardent, and you allowed him to taste you enough so that he would fall asleep thinking about your lips. Donghyuck took a hold of your wrist, detaching your grip from his fabric and moved it up, silently telling you to wind your arms around his neck instead. The second you did it, he melded his lips with yours in a passion that matched the blazing sun, entangling his long arms around your waist, nearly lifting you off your feet as he embraced you tighter.

You wanted to preserve this moment. Right here, kissing fervidly under the soft rain in the arms of a stranger, drowned in the feelings of excitement. Because if you were oxygen, then Donghyuck was dying to breathe.

When it ended, you wished it didn’t have to. Donghyuck’s eyes were deep and intense as they peered into yours, growing a bit half-lidded when he shifted them back to your lips. “Hey.”

You mirrored his gentle smile, forehead pressing against his. “Hi…”

“I don’t know about you,” he chuckled lowly, “but as far as first kisses go, I think that was the best first kiss in the history of mankind.”

You tried to suppress your laughter but failed instantly. “Hyuck?”

“Yeah?”

“Judging from that line, I think you need to practice harder on your art of seduction.”

“Let’s just go back to kissing for now. I like kissing.” He pulled you in again, exchanging muffled giggles between playful kisses.

And if happiness had a form, it would’ve had his smile.

What am I now? What am I now?

What if I’m someone I don’t want around?

I’m falling again. I’m falling again.

I’m falling.

It’s almost laughable that the memories that once sparked so much joy in his heart have taken a shape of javelin, striking him deep in his chest, right where he ached for you the most. It tasted like summer when he kissed you in the rain, and the pain that swells in Donghyuck’s heart whenever the memory of it suffices is harder than the storm. And now, it’s the silence of the room—the absence of your presence—that pierces his skin.

It was easy for him to fall in love with you. So easy, it frightened him at first. After his first relationship, the way his first love shed his heart to pieces, he thought he wouldn’t be able to love someone ever again. Wouldn’t have the courage to even try. But when you came into the picture, Donghyuck didn’t even have the strength to resist. You were everything he ever wanted, an epitome of the woman that graced his dreams. And he was a prisoner, trapped under your spell.

So, why does everything have to end?

Now that he’s falling without you catching him, what is he going to do?

He hates who he’s become. He loathes the fact that he can no longer easily smile like he used to. He despises how grimly he envisioned the world these days. As if you were his entire future, and now that you’re gone, his whole world collapses. Donghyuck no longer knows himself, as you were the one who defines him. The one who gave meaning to his life. The one who mended his broken heart.

What if I’m down? What if I’m out?

What if I’m someone you won’t talk about?

I’m falling again. I’m falling again.

I’m falling.

You must hate me now, Donghyuck ponders, bringing his arm over his face, nibbling at the corner of his lip. The things I said… How I let you go without even giving us a chance… I must have hurt you…

It all began that night, on the day of your twenty-sixth birthday. Two years had passed since you shared your first kiss. Little fights over your differences couldn’t be avoided, but they helped nurture the bond you had with him, making it stronger. And each forgiveness was sincere and was rich in kisses. Donghyuck always made sure of that.

As you were fond of movies, your perfect date must involve watching a movie together with him so Donghyuck, dressed unusually handsomely in a white button-up shirt and black khakis that caught you off guard, took you out to the movie theater—the place where fate once meddled in and brought you to one another.

Knowing your taste, he paid two tickets to see the latest romantic movie, two buckets of popcorn, and a coke for him but iced green tea for you, realizing full well how soda had become one of your biggest enemies ever since your diet started. He made sure that your seats were located on the corner top of the theater, private enough for him to snuggle close to you or steal kisses whenever he felt like doing. You didn’t mind because Donghyuck would only kiss you when you seemed bored, never wanting to bother you when you were too immersed in the movie. He simply kept his hand laced with yours the whole time to make up for the loss.

Complaining about the plot holes and making jokes that only you two could understand had become Donghyuck’s habit to keep you entertained during the movie and it was something you always looked forward to. But that night, he was quiet, his eyebrows creasing in irritation but because of what, you were clueless.

“Are you okay?” You asked as you exited the building, this time being the one who reached out for his hand first. Donghyuck stiffened but his shoulders soon relaxing as he intertwined your fingers together.

“I’m fine,” he assured. “Why, do I not look fine?”

You weakly smiled back, uncertain. “You just seem awfully quiet, that’s all.”

He rubbed his nape, somehow looking a bit perturbed. “I just… It made me remember something I’ve been trying my best to forget.”

“You mean the movie?”

“Yeah.” He sighed into the night, puffs of hot air erupting from his slightly chapped lips. “I don’t know about you, but I think the way the movie depicted their long-distance relationship is just bullshit.”

There was so much bitterness in his words that it nearly made you stop walking. Suddenly, there was a thick tension around you, one that made you aware that it would be wiser to drop the conversation. But curiosity was eating you from the inside. He looked so crushed, so angry, and Donghyuck was turning into a whole other person before you.

You asked him what happened.

“I don’t think I want to talk about my past relationship when I’m celebrating a special night with my girlfriend.” He forced himself to laugh about it, but it sounded hollow.

You unconsciously tightened your grip around his hand. “I just wanted to understand you better.”

“Hey.” He pulled you toward him so abruptly, you ended up falling on his chest. His smile was warmer when he looked at you. “Without even knowing my past, you already understand me better than anyone.”

You were still unsettled when Donghyuck kissed your lips to divert your attention, softly biting your lower one just to joke around to ease the tension. “Ah, I can’t wait until we’re home,” he whispered when all laughter had receded and he had his fingers tucking your loose strands behind your ear. “I want to make love to you.”

Your heart beat thunderously inside your chest. “You’re—you’re just gonna say it so blatantly like that?” He used to be so shy about it, asking you to join him in bed by pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck instead of using words.

“Just wanted you to know my plans beforehand.” He simpered. “Or do you not want to?”

Face aflame, you hurriedly took a couple of strides forward, leading the way with your hand clamping his wrist. “Where are we going?” Donghyuck frowned but followed you nonetheless. “The restaurant is right there.”

“We can have dinner after.” You threw a look over your shoulder, too nervous to smile, but hoped your words would deliver. “Aren’t we going to make love?”

His astonished look soon turned delicate. Donghyuck’s smiles were always beautiful, but the ones that were caused by you were the brightest. 

As soon as the door clicked open, Donghyuck half-pushed, half-carried you inside his apartment that smelled pleasantly like him. He didn’t wait until it was properly closed before he latched his parted lips on your softer ones, fusing perfectly in the way no one ever could. A stinging pain erupted from the back of your head when Donghyuck drove you to the wall, not knowing his own strength, but when you groaned against his mouth, it was solely because you needed him as much as he needed you.

“I love you,” he breathlessly said against your neck, tearing your coat away from your body, fingers slipping underneath your dress. “I love you so much, it’s insane.”

It had been three months since you first exchanged the sacred three words, but no matter how much Donghyuck had whispered them to your ears, painted them to your skin with his lips, it still felt like the first time you heard him say the words. It wasn’t just because of how many promises he held underneath them, it was the way he said them—so sincerely, so desperately, as if you were running out of time and he needed you to hear them before you disappeared from his life.

“I—” You flinched, pulling him for another kiss again when Donghyuck hooked his fingers on the side of your lingerie, hastily pushing it down your thighs. “I love you too—Hyuck—”

The bed was not more than twenty steps away but it was long forgotten when Donghyuck, still with his teeth ghosting across your lower lip, hastily unzipped himself and pushed his jeans and boxers lower enough for your hand to find and stroke him to life. “God, baby—” he hissed when you curled your fingers around him, hot breath caressing your jawline. “I want—I need to be inside you—just—”

No one had ever wanted you the way he did. Every kiss was nearly bruising, every hug was almost suffocating, the thrill of it all was overwhelming. 

It was almost a whine that escaped his lips when he vocalized your name. As soon as his desperate gasp and pleading moan reached your ears, the butterflies came alive in your stomach. Your skin tingled, even with the lightest brush of his lips. Your fingers found home in his hair when he kissed the valley between your breasts, tugging at his soft strands and earning a low grunt in response.

You gave him a sign, affirming that it was okay to continue and Donghyuck wasted no time. Pushing the fabric of your dress as much as he could until it pooled around your waist, he lifted one of your legs and wrapped it around his hips, one hand sliding down to prop up your thigh, the other one aligning his tip against your entrance.

The friction made you moan, both in pain and passion, as Donghyuck slid himself in one swift motion. The second he was sheathed deep inside, waiting for you to adjust to his size, he drew out a long sigh, eyes shut close as he relished the sensation. But when your gaze met, his half-lidded eyes were gentler than they had been the entire day. Careful fingers framed your face, his thumb rubbing comforting circles along your cheekbone. “Are you okay?”

You weakly nodded, smiling sheepishly. “Are you?”

His chuckles were light and bashful. “I’m feeling great,” he said. He moved his hips without warning, just a little, not too fast, not too deep, but the sensation was enough to make you whimper and Donghyuck swallowed every little noise you made directly with his lips.

A certain thrust made you squeeze around him and he drowned out his moan by mouthing against your shoulder, teeth prickling against the skin. “Fuck, do that again, baby, please.” And as he continued hitting the same spot, it was a given that you provided the same reaction.

Donghyuck was insanely good at making you feel good, and in return, you wanted to give him everything that he desired. “I love how you feel around me,” he confessed under his breath, as if he was talking to himself. “Perfect—you’re so perfect for me—”

Your arms were frantically clutching around his neck, trying to maintain stability when Donghyuck pushed you up the wall, now lifting both of your feet off the ground. He buried himself deeper, moved his hips faster, and kissed you with the desperation of a dying man.

You tried to hold back but you couldn’t. It was too much. His breathless moans in your ear, the frantic sway of his hips, the closeness of your bodies—everything was overwhelming and you came hard on his length, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as Donghyuck chased after your lips. 

“Fuck,” he breathed heavily, his jaw hung low. The way you quivered and clenched around him sent fire through his veins. “Did you just come?” he whispered and you bit your lip in shame. The tiny laugh that broke free from his lips were both playful and filled with tenderness. “Already? That was fast.”

Flustered but not given the chance to react, you inhaled sharply when Donghyuck picked up the pace. He was almost growling when his lips grazed against the shell of your ear. “Actually, me too,” he moaned, “Is it—can I come inside?”

You nodded fervently, embracing him tighter and Donghyuck buried his head in the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he came.

When he let you slide down to your feet, your knees gave out under your weight and you stumbled back to his chest. He held you close, laughing as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m sorry, come here.” Bending down slightly, Donghyuck hooked one arm under your knees and another one behind your back. He carried you in his arms, teasing, “The sex was so good, you could barely stand, huh?”

You playfully slapped his chest. “Shut up.”

But all of his mischievousness dissipated as soon as you both slipped under the duvet, his bedsheets felt silky smooth under your spine. He cleaned the stain that dripped down your thighs with a warm towel, but dipped his head down to taste you directly with his tongue the second he was finished with it. Donghyuck’s eyes never left yours, placing gentle kisses on the inner sides of your thighs and two more on your clit before he slid his tongue along your folds, slowly, as if he had the whole time in the world to please you.

He was always gentler the second time, slower with more feelings instead of sheer passion. So when he slid himself into you again, his forehead was pressed against yours, lips curving up into an innocent smile. “I never want to let you go,” he chuckled between tiny moans. “I want to stay just like this with you, forever.”

“I don’t think it’s physically possible,” you giggled, raking your nails down his spine and he arched his back in response. 

“Wouldn’t it be great if we could stay connected like this all the time, though?” Donghyuck broke away, sitting on his heels as he rested one of your legs on his shoulder. His fingers were kneading the skin of your thigh, hugging your leg close to his chest as he rocked his hips slowly, savoring every moment. “I mean, ah, doesn’t this feel good?”

You nibbled at your lip, sighing. Good was an understatement but you weren’t sure you could find a term to perfectly define how amazing he felt around you. From where you laid on the bed, you could take a good look at Donghyuck’s eyes—the way they drooped slightly, clouded with both affection and infatuation every time they met yours. How the muscles in his abs were flexing with every movement. The sinful, obscene sway of his hips. The little smirk that broke on his face when you accidentally moaned his name too loud—Donghyuck was... Beautiful. Irresistible. Sexy. 

“Baby?” Donghyuck called, chuckling softly as he peppered open-mouthed kisses to your ankle that made you stare in a haze. “You okay down there?”

You pursed your lips. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Yeah?” He brought your leg down so he could fall back into your arms, mouth meeting your jawline before it moved to playfully bite the tip of your nose. “Well, I’ve got something else you could also enjoy.”

You hummed, trying your best to contain your moan when he suddenly brought his fingers down to rub against your clit. “And what’s that?” Though by the way he slammed his hips harder against yours served as an obvious answer.

“Some caramel pudding,” he answered, nipping against your neck as he grinned, careful enough not to leave any marks. “They’re in the fridge. You’ll love them.”

It was hard to focus when he kept hitting the spot that made you curl your toes. “Hyuck...” You pushed a loose strand of his hair behind his ear before you caressed his cheek. “I love you.”

His movements stopped, eyes peering into yours, stunned at first, then melted into something softer than the breath of summer. “I love you too.” His lips never left yours as they spoke each loving word with more sentimentality and less urgency. “And happy birthday, baby...”

When both of you had no strength left but to cuddle in each other’s arms, you gathered the courage to ask once more. “Hyuck?”

“Hmm?”

“I still want to know, after all. About what happened to you earlier. You looked so distraught—I can’t rest before I know what upsets you.”

Donghyuck’s fingers stopped momentarily from carding through your strands but with a heavy sigh, he surrendered.

It was his first relationship with his first love, back when he was sixteen. They were together for four years but knew each other for ten. She was a close friend that grew into something more. Even loving words didn’t need to be exchanged as they could practically finish each other’s thoughts. You felt a pang of jealousy gnawing at you from the inside, at the thought of him having someone so important in his life—someone who had stayed with him longer than you’d met him—someone whose name couldn’t be spoken as it triggered too many emotions.

But for the sake of understanding him, you cast your jealousy aside, no matter how much it hurt.

Donghyuck’s voice had lost its usual cheeriness when he reminisced his past. By the time they graduated high school, she decided to continue her study in Japan. Donghyuck let her go, supporting her plans and dreams like the perfect boyfriend that he was. They were committed to each other, faithful to one another. Donghyuck never doubted her, not even once.

Until one day, during a summer break, he decided to pay her a visit. He bought airplane tickets with the money he’d saved up for months, along with a thoughtful gift for her birthday. But the second he saw her opening the door to her apartment, he realized that she wasn’t alone.

She was never alone. He was.

“Why are you here?” She asked, as if his presence was a bother. Him, the man whom she claimed she’d loved with her entire soul for the last four years. The man whom she had made love to on his bed just six months earlier. Donghyuck would never forget the look she had on her face that day.

“It’s funny how you’ve been with this person your whole life,” Donghyuck breathily said, eyes locked to the ceiling. “And you thought you knew them like the back of your hand and then one day, they betrayed you in the way you thought they were incapable of doing.”

You couldn’t find your voice, blending in with the silence of the room.

But he didn’t hate her, Donghyuck confessed. He hated himself. He hated how stupid—how innocent and gullible he was. He hated how easily he let someone else carry his heart around and let them do whatever they want with it. He knew that she wouldn’t have the power to destroy him, if he didn’t give her the chance. Maybe, if his thoughts weren’t as clouded by his feelings, he would’ve noticed the little sighs she made whenever he told her he loved her. He would’ve noticed the way she sounded much brighter when she talked about her life instead of their lives together during their late-night calls. He would’ve noticed how distant she sounded whenever she spoke his name, as if it was just another meaningless word and not the one that she used to murmur in short gasps near his ear.

And maybe if I hadn’t fallen in love...

Donghyuck fell mute for a few seconds as if he was drifted to another time and space. The hurting look on his face was so vivid that it broke you just by seeing it. Attempting to wash the pain away, you placed a hand on his cheek and Donghyuck grew rigid once before he melted into smiles, leaning into your touch.

“I had to stay for a whole week in a country I didn’t know because I couldn’t refund my ticket. All alone, since my girlfriend cheated on me and didn’t even care to apologize about it,” he murmured against your palm, still sounding bitter but with more ease. “So yeah, I probably have some trust issues now because of that.” He tried to laugh it off. “But it’s all right. I don’t care. I have you now, right?” He laid on his side, facing you with a boyish smile that made your heart race just a little bit faster. “I’m starting on a new page with you. And as long as you’re here with me, I’m the happiest man in the world.”

You reflected his smile though your heart was unsettled. “You’re lame.”

“Excuse me, I’m in love,” he corrected, pouting. But when his hand found yours, his expression grew tender again. Kissing each of your fingertips, he murmured, “We’ll always be together, right? Promise you won’t do that to me, ‘cause I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He knew what loving you could cost him, but you were different. And he was different. He wouldn’t fall into the same trap. He knew how to protect himself this time. So he allowed himself to love you just as much, if not more, moving on but never forget.

Your eyes were focusing on the way he brought your index finger between his lips, the tip pressing against his hot tongue. “Yes,” you softly whispered, hooking a finger around his silver necklace, pulling him in for a kiss. “We’ll always be together.”

So when you received a job promotion a year later, you didn’t know what to say to him. It was your dream job, finally achieving that position after practically hanging on for dear life for five years working in the company. The salary exceeded your expectation, and you would be working under a senior that you admired. The company would pay for all your living expenses, give you your own flat to live with a balcony where you could see the sun rising behind the skyscrapers. It all sounded so perfect. Too perfect.

Except for the part where you had to move to another country that stood three thousand miles from where he was.

You knew you should’ve said something to Donghyuck the first time your director broke the news to you. But you couldn’t as you didn’t know how. During the three years of your relationship, both of you had avoided talking about matters that could lead to fights, only allowing yourselves to discuss trivial, daily things that would make the other pout in annoyance but not fury. The first time you noticed this happened, was when both of you became too busy dealing with your own lives. You had your job to think about, while Donghyuck had his thesis to work on and there wasn’t much time to focus on each other even when you were staying in the same room.

Donghyuck often released his stress by nuzzling his nose against your neck, pulling you into his lap, whispering, “I miss you,” and you reciprocated each time with a kiss but you both stopped before it got too much, with you patting his cheek, apologizing to him with both words and your eyes, “I’m sorry, but I have a Zoom meeting in an hour so I really need to get my presentation done.”

He just sighed, pressing a tiny kiss between your eyebrows. “Well then, I’m gonna go catch some sleep. Don’t work too hard.”

And as he walked to the bedroom, closing the door behind him, leaving you alone in his living room, you realized the distance that grew between you. He used to look back, peeking his head through the door, saying, “Would it really kill you to just join me for, like, fifteen minutes? I’ll be fast, I swear,” which you would answer with a laugh, assuming he was joking. “Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

Now, he doesn’t even stop to say good night.

You knew you could fix it—he knew he could fix it too—but none of you ever said anything about it, afraid that it would trigger something bigger that neither of you wouldn’t be able to fix.

It didn’t mean that you didn’t try. Every weekend, you would commit yourself fully for him and Donghyuck would accept your unspoken apology with all his heart. You once attempted to drop some clues about your promotion during dinner when he made you your favorite dish, grinning from ear-to-ear as he waited for your reaction. Donghyuck’s Spaghetti Aglio e olio never disappointed you, but you know your words would. So when he was smiling at you, his thumb gliding along your knuckles as he took your hand in his, how could you tell him? 

I just need more time to prepare myself. To find a better way to explain.

But before you could find your words, Donghyuck found your promotion letter.

“What is this?” He asked to your horror, body leaning against the doorframe, your letter in his hand.

The maroon dress you were trying to fold fell from your lap as you stood up abruptly, eyes widening in shock. “That’s—where did you get—”

“What is this?”

“It’s...” You trembled. “My promotion letter.”

“Are you planning to tell me about it?” He wasn’t shouting, didn’t even raise his voice, but to your ears, his voice was thunderous.  

You fidgeted, fingers fisting the hemline of your shirt, desperate for comfort. “Of course, I—” But there were no words. Your brain was too jumbled to find a proper excuse. So when Donghyuck just lowered his gaze, eyes growing colder, and left the room, you could only call out his name.

He only stopped in his tracks when you grasped his wrist. “Did you say yes to this?” His voice was quiet, eerily so, that it sent shivers down your spine.

You nibbled at your bottom lip. “I was—”

“Yes or no?”

He only allowed you to choose, not explain. With a deep breath, you mumbled out, “Yes.”

There was a moment of silence where you could only hear your stuttered breathing but none of his. “Three months,” he murmured, voice deep and hoarse that you barely recognized it. “The letter is three months old. You had all this time to tell me.”

Panic was bubbling up your chest. “I was going to tell you but—”

The rest of your words died instantly the second Donghyuck slammed the letter on the dining table. Without another word, he stomped off to the front door, grabbing his coat.

“Wait!” You chased after his trails, knees wobbling. “Where are you—”

The door was shut close with a bang.

No matter how many times you tried to call him, he never answered. The only thing you could do was stay in his apartment and waited until he came back to his senses. Now that you were alone in the living room, you began to notice just how much of your belongings were positioned in every corner of his apartment. Your toothbrush was next to his, your clothes were hanging inside his wardrobe, your favorite books were on his shelf, and the walls were painted with more photographs of you than his own. In every picture, you could see yourself smiling in his arms, laughing at something he did or said because that was it, wasn’t it? Donghyuck was the only one who could make you smile so freely, without a care in the world.

So why are we in this position?

It was your first big fight and you had no one to blame but yourself. Hours had passed by and tears began to well from how frustrated you were with yourself, but the front door flung open before they could outline your cheeks.

“Hyuck,” you called out, heart breaking at the sound of his name. Donghyuck’s hair was ruffled by the wind, his nose and cheeks reddening from the cold night air. His hands were in his coat’s pockets, his eyes hiding behind his bangs as he kicked his shoes away. He walked past you as if you weren’t there, heading straight to the bedroom.

Judging from the scent and his droopy eyes, you knew he had been drinking. “Are you okay?”

No answer. He took his coat off, throwing it to the bed, along with his phone—which was clearly functional as always. You had expected him to dismiss your calls, but it still hurt being ignored.

Eyebrows knitting in concern, you went to the kitchen to make him a cup of coffee, hoping that a little caffeine would ease the tension as it was something you were both fond of. You stopped to catch your breath, noticing that it was one in the morning.

What should I do?

“Hyuck…” You carefully said, voice quieter than usual as you walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind you. “I’ve made you some coffee. It’ll help warm you up.”

Donghyuck was sitting at the edge of the bed, his phone in his hands, blatantly ignoring you.

“Can we…” You hesitated, fingers curling into tiny balls of fists. “Can we talk..?”

But the silence was deafening.

“Hyuck—”

“What?!” He suddenly roared, making you take a step back, flinching. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I…” You swallowed your breath. “I know you’re upset about me leaving and I’m sorry—”

“Oh, so now you want to talk about this? After I found out about your letter?” Donghyuck didn’t wait for your response. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this a secret from me! What else are you not telling me?”

Heart dropping to the stomach, you weakly replied, “Nothing, just... I was going to tell you—”

“Yeah? When, exactly?” Donghyuck stood up, throwing his phone to the bed. “When you’re about to go? When you’re about to disappear from my life just like her?”

Being put in the same position as the person who tore his heart to pieces was both sickening and infuriating. “Of course not, I won’t do that to you! I won’t leave you—”

“But that’s all that everybody fucking said!” He threw his hands in the air. “That’s what she said when—”

“Well, I’m not her!” The booming sound of your voice startled you both, but it grew weak in comparison when the eerie silence followed. “Hyuck, you can’t blame me for what she did. I’m not her. I’m not her replacement. Don’t compare me with her.”

For a moment, Donghyuck’s lips were pressed tightly until they grew white. “I never compared you with her,” he said through gritted teeth. “Not until now when you’re doing the same thing, saying the exact same thing to me.”

You cowered slightly under his gaze. The sound of the ticking clock had never felt so loud when you fought for words to say. “It’s my dream job, Hyuck. I’ve been waiting all my life to get this position.”

“Congratulations.” He scoffed, clenching his jaw. “I’m so glad you get what you wanted.”

“You don’t have to force yourself to say words you don’t mean.”

He clicked his tongue in vexation. “Yeah, well, I would’ve meant them, if you had told me about this sooner.”

“I wasn’t able to tell you because I thought you’d be upset about it—”

“Well, I suppose, postponing it until we’re counting days till your leave is going to make me feel fucking elated, isn’t that right, Sweetheart?” There had never been a day where you thought his adorable, warm laughter could turn into something so spiteful. “Let me guess. You’re leaving in like, what, a month?”

You rubbed your tears away before they fell. “Six weeks.”

“Oh, that makes everything so much better! Six weeks!” He cynically laughed, throwing his head back. “You know what? You’re right. I’m so happy. Never been this fucking happy in my whole goddamn life—”

“What do you want me to do?!” The frustration that welled inside your chest finally broke through your lips. “You want me to turn back time so I could tell you right after I heard the news three months ago?”

Donghyuck averted his gaze, his hand going to his head, pulling at his hair roots. “I just don’t understand why if this is so important to you—and if I’m so important to you—why don’t you talk this out with me? Don’t you care about what I think? About how I’d feel?”

Tears were running faster than you could wipe them off your cheeks. “I couldn’t find the right time to tell you.” You choked out. “ And you were busy working on your final thesis too, I didn’t want to bother you—”

“That’s your excuse?!” he gasped in disbelief. “I don’t fucking care about my thesis. I care about you! And you knew how I felt about this—about being in a long-distance relationship—"

“That was the reason why I was waiting for the right time until—“

“Until you can tell me that you’re leaving.” He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m tired and we’re going in circles. Why are we even discussing this when you’ve made the decision all by yourself.”

Embittered, you asked, “Do you want me to choose between you and my career?”

“No. I don’t.” He finally peered into your eyes, and you could see how there was not as much anger as sadness that emerged in his eyes. “But I’m making my own decision.” When you frowned in confusion, Donghyuck looked away, staring at the wall that was filled with memories as he spoke. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“What?” It felt like the world was swallowing you whole. “What did you say?”

Exchanging stares with you, Donghyuck appeared more weary than furious. “I just don’t see how this is going to work.”

“You’re drunk.” You reasoned out, both in efforts to calm him down and to wash the fear away from your chest. “You won’t be saying any of this if you were sober.”

Donghyuck’s eyes grew colder. “If that’s what makes you sleep at night, sure. Go ahead and think that way.”

Dread was coursing through your veins, making you feel terrified of what was coming. “Wait,” you almost pleaded, “We need to talk about this.”

“I think we’ve talked enough.”

“Can’t we at least try—”

“I can’t.” The confession escaped his lips, his eyes were heartbroken, as if it was you who was breaking up with him and not the other way around. “You know I can’t do this. I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes. I don’t want to be that guy who constantly gets suspicious or overly protective of you because of my past. It won’t be fair to you.”

“I don’t care if you’re being unfair,” you replied shakily, “I just don’t want us to end what we have now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice grew softer. “If we continue this, I know I’ll end up saying things I never mean to say. With three thousand miles between us, how often do you think we can see each other? With you being so busy with your new job, how often can we speak?” But the bitterness in his voice came alive when he added, “We could barely do that when we were in the same room before.”

“It’s about that..?” Realization washed over you like a wave. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Same reason as you,” he replied, “To protect our relationship. That’s what we always do, isn’t it? Pretending everything is fine when it’s not?”

“Hyuck, I’ve tried my best to spend time with you... I thought you’d understand that I have a job—”

“You’re right, but unlike you, I don’t.” Donghyuck weakly smiled. “I don’t have anything going on with my life except you. I don’t even know if I can graduate in time. But you’ve achieved so much. You’re only a few years older than me and yet you’ve already had everything figured out, and I admire you for that.” His words sounded sincere but it only tore your heart open even more. Donghyuck walked closer, his fingers pushing the bangs out of your eyes like the way he used to do but it didn’t feel the same. “You’re already perfect the way you are now. You don’t need me in your life.”

“No.” The desperation was so thick in your voice, that it made you wince but not regret. “You’re wrong, you—There’s not a day where I don’t need you, Hyuck. I want you to stay with me. Come with me. We still have time.”

You don’t mean that. Donghyuck brought his head down, unable to meet your eyes. If you did, you would’ve told me about this sooner. “And then what?” he sighed, sounding so tired. “What am I going to do if I come with you? I haven’t even finished my study, let alone having a job.”

“You can find one in—”

“In a country where I can’t even speak the language?” He bitterly smiled. “I doubt it. I’m not gonna let you pay for my needs—”

“Then, I’ll make some time for you, I promise. Better this time.” Your fingernails were sinking into your palms from how tightly you curled them. “No matter how far we are from each other, I’ll call you every day.”

“I don’t want that.” His words were laced with frustration. “I don’t want you to force yourself to do something for me. And I don’t want to spend my nights imagining whether you’re spending yours with someone else.”

“You...” You were so quiet, you wondered if he could hear you properly. “You don’t trust me?”

But Donghyuck shook his head, gaze softening. “I do. I just don’t trust myself.”

Your mind turned into a blank slate, unable to form a word. Donghyuck’s breathing tattered a little when he exhaled, walking to his wardrobe to pick out some clothes. “I’m gonna go stay at Mark’s for the weekend. Feel free to take out your stuff. Just drop the keys at the lobby when you’re finished.”

You stood still, frozen. It almost felt like a heart attack from the way your heart was hammering against your ribcages. “I don’t want to lose you, Hyuck,” you quietly professed, “I thought we could work this out...”

Donghyuck’s movements were put to a halt, just for a couple of seconds, before he continued shoving his clothes down his bag.

You stood on the side as he walked past you, his natural sandalwood scent had disappeared, buried under the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. “So, this is it…?” You fretted. “For us..?”

Donghyuck stopped walking, glancing at you from over his shoulder. “It’s better for both of us, don’t you think?”

But he didn’t wait to hear your answer.

When you dared to appear at his front door six weeks later, it was the night before your departure. He hadn’t called, hadn’t sent you a single text, as if he was a ghost, only living in your imagination. But knowing it was your last chance to see him, you decided to take the first step.

Donghyuck was wearing the same navy blue knitted sweater that he wore the first time you told him you loved him. You remembered how startled he was back then, unsure of what to say as he was afraid to love someone else after knowing how it felt to have his heart shattered to pieces. That time, he only responded with a hug and a small “Thank you.” As you laid in his arms later that night, you spent every second with your eyes closed but your thoughts awake, trying to figure out why won’t he say it back? 

But when you left for work early on the next morning, one arm holding an umbrella over your head to protect you from the morning showers, Donghyuck was chasing after you in the same knitted sweater, his hair messy from sleep but soon be drenched by the rain.

“I love you too!” he shouted, breathlessly, both from running and the rush of adrenaline that pumped through his veins.

You turned around, eyes wide in astonishment, though you didn’t catch his words. “What—” You were about to run so you could shelter him from the rain, but Donghyuck reached your spot faster than you could reach his. “What are you doing? Why didn’t you take an umbrella with you?” You dropped your handbag to the ground, not caring if it got wet from the rain as you focused more on the man who was shivering in front of you. You rubbed his arm up and down before cupping his face. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine. I just have something to say before you go.” He broke into a tender smile, pressing his palm against the back of your hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back last night. I was afraid. Being in love with someone means you’re giving your heart for them to hold or to crush and I didn’t want to go through that pain again but—” He stepped closer, his temple nearly touching yours as he brought his head down. “I love you. I want you to know that I love you too. I don’t want to lie to myself anymore and I don’t care what’s gonna happen in the future. I just love you, so much, that both my heart and my head feel like they’re going to burst.”

And you could only stare, dumbstruck and in awe.

“Say something, please?” He begged, cold fingers caressing your cheek. “Otherwise, I might have to crawl into a hole and die from shame.”

You chuckled lightly, overwhelmed by the sheer happiness that washed over you. “I love you too.”

He seemed so relieved, almost as much as you were, and he twisted his fingers around your strands, chasing after your lips. The kiss was sweeter than honey but knowing him, even the sweetest kiss emitted so much passion, it left you breathless.

“I’m sorry, I know you gotta go to work,” he said, slightly pushing you away before his emotions defeated him once more and he slanted his lips against yours in a more frenzied manner. “God, I know you have to go,” he whispered between needy kisses. “But just—one more—”

When he finally had the strength to break apart from you, his eyes were conflicted, his thumb caressing your cheek, and Donghyuck wetted his already glistened lip as he stared at yours. “Must you go? I want to be with you today.”

It didn’t matter that the two of you just spent the entire weekend together. No amount of time would be enough to satisfy your needs for each other’s touch. So you answered him with your lips meeting his in a frantic kiss, casting your umbrella aside and it didn’t matter that it was cold, with big droplets of rain easily drenching you from head to toe, because Donghyuck was always ready to warm you up. 

“Then take me home, Lee Donghyuck.”

But you realized as he tugged you back into his arms, soft lips pressing against your temple, you were already home.

Now… That memory felt like a fantasy, one that you could only dream of having.

“I…” You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I just wanted to get the books I left on your shelf.”

He didn’t say a word, only stepping to the side to give you some space to enter. A month had passed by since he broke up with you, and his apartment still smelled delightfully like him, but instead of making you feel joy, it broke your heart even harder.  

“It’s in my room,” he said, all stern with no warmth like he used to have. You nodded, making your way to his bedroom. When you closed the bedroom door behind you, hot tears were about to spill and you tried your best not to be suffocated with the memories of the nights where you used to share your feelings with him, bodies tangled underneath the sheets, lips carving marks on each other’s skins.

You couldn’t breathe.

By the time you managed to collect yourself, you came out of his room with two of your books in your hands while you left ten more on his shelf. You didn’t need any of them. It was only a poor excuse for you to see his eyes once more before you bid your final farewell.

“I made you some coffee,” he said, leaning against the coffee table. “It’s cold outside so…”

You weakly smiled. “Thank you.”

You used to spend hours chattering behind a few cups of coffee, talking about the things that mattered and things that didn’t because everything felt special when you shared them with someone you loved.

But today, every sip of your coffee sounded louder than your voice as no words were shared.

You said you care

And you missed me too

And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you

“How are you?”

“I’m doing great,” he answered formally. It’s funny how he didn’t need spiteful words to hurt you. The absence of his affection in his sentences was more than enough to strangle you.

“Are you… still writing lyrics for Mark’s songs these days?”

“No. I’m busy these days.”

“Oh… With your thesis?”

“Sure.”

Donghyuck didn’t tell you the truth. Didn’t tell you how many papers had been written, scratched, discarded just so he could deal with the thoughts of you. Didn’t tell you the words he wrote about your pretty eyes, your pretty smiles, your kindness, your passion, your everything.

The reason why he let you go was because he knew, you would probably stay with him if he’d asked the question. He didn’t want you to have any regrets. Didn’t want you to choose him because you felt like you had no other way.

It felt like you betrayed him when you kept it a secret for months.

What else will you keep from me, if you can’t even tell me you’re leaving? Will you keep it a secret when you no longer love me the way you used to? Will you keep it a secret when you find someone new, someone better, someone who can stay to wipe your tears and hold you in their arms while I’m three thousand miles away from you? Will you pretend like everything is fine, when we’re straying further away from each other every day?

In Donghyuck’s mind, he thought you’d be better on your own. At such a young age, you managed to chase after your dreams while he was still unsure of what he wanted to have in the future. To him, you were always a step ahead. And tomorrow, you’d be taking your first step to another place where he wouldn’t have the strength to follow. 

His thoughts about you were never-ending. And he wrote so much, poured every feeling down to papers, that now as you stood before him in person, there were no more words left to be said and he could only reply your sentences with silence.

And the coffee's out

At the Beachwood Cafe

And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” you eventually said and Donghyuck glanced at you from behind his bangs, but never stayed for a second longer.

He knew. Of course, he did. He had been counting the days, dreading every second of it. “Take care of yourself,” he responded in a way a stranger would say to another stranger at the end of their brief meeting. “Good luck with your job. I’m sure you’ll be fine, Noona.”

Noona... He didn’t even want to call you by your name or the sweet terms he’d once associated with you. You were truly strangers now.

“Thanks.” You forced yourself to smile, nails sinking into your thighs as you brought your hands to your lap. “You too. Don’t forget to take your breakfast every day. You always skip it.”

It was your job to remind him, who used to serve fried eggs and toasts on his plate and maybe Donghyuck remembered that too because he brought his head down, and simply replied with a hum.

When you took your leave, you handed him a note to your new address. “Just… Come visit whenever you’re in the country. I’d love to show you around.” It sickened you how formal you sounded, but you couldn’t say it any other way.

When Donghyuck took the note, your fingers brushed against his, it almost seemed like the time stopped, just for a little, and he wanted to pull you into his embrace, to tell you how much he’d been missing you the same way you’d been missing him. To tell you how much he wanted to be selfish, to have you choose him over everything in your life because that was how you meant to him. You were everything to him.

Just like how you are to me.

So when he dropped his hand, tucking it inside his pocket, you knew it was really over. Finally, the word goodbye took its true form.

And I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again.

[silksaddle]

The Traveler 2

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x f!reader Western AU

Chapter summary: 1907, Old West. Talk of the Statesman gang is slowly on the rise while Jack continues to distract you from your chores, taking you on another but entirely different night-time outing. 

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, guns, mentions of alcohol and gangs, copious flirting, SMUT, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex/piv sex, outdoor sex, thigh spanking, please pardon me for the amount of smut content in this chapter, a crumb of plot development, Jack Daniels again...

Word count: 14k (leave me alone)

A/N: gif credit to @javier-pena once again! thank you my beloved astrid! and as always, much love to my amazing friends who sent me inspo posts and listened to my anxious ramblings about god-knows-what. you are all the best and you have my heart.

Read Chapter One ~ Series Masterlist

Chapter Two: Six Shooter

Jack is spreading his half-naked body over the mattress in a contented stretch when you return to the bedroom, flustered and hot-cheeked.

“You here to take my sheets, darlin’? I must insist I keep ‘em,” he chortles, turning his bright face over the soft pillow as you attempt stripping the sheets from under him, your lungs emptying in a huff when he catches your wrist and draws you to him instead. Your body lands perfectly on top of his with your weak protest, a poor match for his irresistibly gravel-like voice and his buzzing snugness.

“You’re making my job quite difficult,” you mumble into his neck, kissing the smooth skin there although your words are much more harsh. His chest rumbles, fingers running the length of your clothed back from when he’d hurriedly laced you back into your dress, lips skimming graceful but mindless lines on your temple.

“Mrs. Adler thinks you’re doing your chores.” Jack’s palms are now ghosting over your shoulders as you prop yourself up on your elbows, taking his gaze with you as you move, and you can tell your dilating pupils are betraying the falseness of your annoyed tone when you look at his expanding chest. He takes a deep breath in, the angle of morning light catching his eyes just right to melt them into golden flecks, his dishevelled hair incurable without a bath. 

You card your fingers through, and though it’s slightly tangled, the texture is silky enough to brush through the messy state and straighten it out, just a smidge. The touch causes his eyes to flutter closed, and shimmying up his body, he leans his head back to expose his neck further, the long lines and tone popping against each other. His breath hitches when he feels your own puffing across it, his chest immobile while he waits to feel something more from you, but you don’t kiss him, don’t nip him, don’t caress him there.

“I’ve only come to take your sheets to wash them— I should already be downstairs,” you insist and he mopes, your voice softly carrying throughout the bright bedroom, limbs absent-mindedly wrapping around his firm ones until he clings to you.

“Oh,” he hums, tipping his body until you roll under him onto the no-longer-fresh sheets, landing on your back with his hands cradling your head. His handsome smile makes you forget you ever needed to take his sheets in the first place, and when he kisses you deeply, moaning low when you open up for him and his bare skin slides over you, you don’t even remember where you are. “Thought you’d wanted some more of me…”

“Mmm, Jack— she’s already a little suspicious of me,” you giggle, wriggling underneath his heavy weight and it’s a futile effort beneath his affection, his lips laying warm insistent kisses all over your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw. He’s unstoppable, whether it’s the heaviness or the happiness that makes you lie there and take it with quiet laughter as the rough skin of his cheek touches gently to yours. 

Jack is as much the sunshine of the room as the real thing, chuckling sweetly along with you and growing more pleased the louder your squealing sounds become, your fingers pulling across the bare skin of his back— he likes it too much to let you off in a timely manner.

Mrs. Adler had only just believed your excuse of a poor sleep as you’d rushed out in a tizzy with your disheveled hair and clothes, and a terrible flourish of panic had bloomed in your chest at the thought of an unchecked mark lingering on your neck. But Jack had looked you over meticulously; deft fingers had worked at the laces of your layers. And even before making it to the kitchen, two dozen kisses wet on your thighs, you’d opened the door only to find the old woman pacing about on the landing of the stairs. Slamming it shut with your back on the wood, panting in the face of confrontation, Jack snickered and peeked out for you a minute later, confirming your chance to slip out undetected.

Now finished serving breakfast, Jack once again prevents you from carrying out your tasks.

“You’ve left me with a lastin’ impression,” he rasps, eyes crinkling as he slips a hand under your skirt and the touch tickles and inspires a giddy laugh from your throat as you swat him away, at last slipping out from under him. 

“Give me your sheets, you greedy man,” you order, lifting your chin and furrowing your brow with your arm extended. Jack purses his lips and thinks, sitting up to run a hand through his dark hair, your smile growing despite yourself when it sticks up in bulky curls to leave his contented face in view. 

“These sheets have got your smell on ‘em now,” he grins like it’s his most favoured fact in his whole life, leaning back into his palms and his cock is slowly hardening between his legs as he considers his next words, “your cum is on them.”

“Jack,” you chuckle, “you’re dirty.” Inching closer to him, his joyous face turns dark when you arrive in the middle of his strong thighs extending past the edge of the bed, “Get up, please, or I’ll have you explaining why I’m behind schedule for the second time today.”

He presses up onto his feet, his gentle scent covering you as if a fleeting spell, and before any more rational thoughts occur, your hand is reaching into his unbuttoned pants, wrapping around his hard length. His head tips back, the softest growl filling your ears and he pushes his hips forward, placing his hands on your cheeks, urging your lips to slide along his as he fucks into your tight fist. It’s a sweet kiss compared to his already desperate thrusts, his cum still streaking your thighs, inside of you, outside of you, from mere hours before.

“I told you I’d come back here tonight. We’ve plenty of time to ruin more sheets.” Your whisper earns a heavy sigh expelled onto your skin, his grip sliding down to your neck and as his mouth hangs open, you nip at his bottom lip and pull it into your mouth, a tender suckle on the plush softness. He hisses as you let it go, burying his nose into the curve of your neck, and stilling his movements with your hand, he lets you work him like that— your fingers tightly curled around his cock as you slide it in and out of your palm. 

“Fuck me,” he groans, “I better see you back here if you’re gonna touch me like this, darlin’.”

Smiling, you pump him quickly, whispering how you can still feel him as if he’s fucking you right now, how good he is, how thick, and he growls from his chest, shutting his eyes tight in concentration.

“Maybe you’ll let me touch you tonight, too, Jack, leave your ropes for another time…” Your free hand clamps around the back of his neck, twirling your fingers around the hair at the nape of it, before tugging him down for a slower kiss, capturing his striking whine in your mouth.

“Shit, darlin’... I’d do anything you say right about now… Christ,” Jack’s fingers trace the neckline of your bodice as his lips skate along your cheek, and his voice is so husky and rumbly, you almost consider a greater risk of trouble.

He makes no protest as you bend carefully, still pumping his thick cock while you yank the sheet away from the mattress, pulling back to fold it into your arms and finally leaving his hard length unattended. Jack’s eyes snap open in a crushing neediness, his displeased but wrecked voice calling after you in a bid to keep you here and he laughs incredulously, “You get back here right now.”

Backing up into the door, your lip caught in your teeth, you reach behind and find the cool handle, offering a cheeky grin before you slip away and murmur, “I’m busy.”

-

A mellow afternoon follows Jack’s disgruntled exit to the fractional post office, stealing a rushed kiss in the corner of the parlour for the mere seconds you were alone together, giddy glances spared through the window on his walk to work. You spend a small segment of your time concocting tea for Mrs. Adler who pours over the payment book, thanking you as she slides a list across the bar; it’s full of all things you know to do without the help of paper and pencil.

“How about that Mr. Daniels?”

Spluttering, you swivel on your heel, unsure of the intention of her question, your eyes mistakenly blowing wide with no answer to fill the subsequent silence. She must know, you worry, she must.

“What about him?” You query, looking down at your apron in no need of smoothing, yet your hands fiddle with the pockets, and her amused scoff scrapes through your uneasy stance.

“My, you’d better sleep well tonight... that man whipped those fools down in a second,” she laughs, flipping the page of the large notebook and scribbling something down with a spotted, shaky hand. 

“He did.” Wiping your face, you conceal a sliver of a smile under your hand when you think of him— ease and cockiness burned down to his big pleading eyes looking up at you for permission. “Thought you disliked him.”

“Well, I could admit we need someone like that around here more often,” she croaks as you pretend to look over the list of laundry, sweeping, cooking, cleaning. The sentiment lands somewhere uncomfortable in your chest— you no more than agree with her and you could never tell her why or how.

“Oh, and dear, the sheriff came by this morning,” she adds, relaying his spiel of reports.

Only the most notable happenings make it over from town to town, lawlessness rendering crime nothing more than irrelevant. It takes a mass robbery, or a mammoth fire, or an offense so deeply doused and coloured red in rage to make the rounds of neighbouring settlements, so when Mrs. Adler shares the spreading news of heightened gang exploits a little ways north, your heart sinks and adopts a painfully heavy sensation.

“He advises to be extra careful,” she finishes with a stern look, “they could be coming here for all we know. Those Statesman men are horrible…”

“Statesman?” you echo her words, scouring the back of your mind to place the familiarity of that name, but she smiles in return to soften your worried brow. Statesmen, a Statesman. You’d read it somewhere, embellished into leather or stitched into the label of a visitor’s coat while tidying.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. If anything, girl, that Daniels boy should be of use.”

A challenge not to snicker, she gives you, when she tells you not to fuss, as if you’ve got the liberty to enjoy the outdoors where a vigilant attitude is required— but Jack is the remedy, you think, eyeing the stray strands of her brittle grey hair twisted up, scrunching your nose.

“Alright, Mrs. Adler,” you agree, passing her through to the laundry closet.

The air is stuffy inside the small, shelved room, where pleasing, cooling, tiny splashes pepper your forearms as you pour the water bucket into one of the tubs, then grabbing the soap, you flump onto the short stool and drag the laundry basket to your side. The first sheet on the pile is the last one you’d taken— Jack’s— carrying his heady and wood-fiery scent now mingled with yours. With a vibration of anticipation up your spine, your thoughts twirl upon your admittedly cruel handling of his need— tonight, you’re surely in for it.

The usual, slowly passing and hot hours fill with inescapable reveries toeing the line of unrealistic: a cloudy day in bed, a sunny evening at the river, clothes discarded to the side. Shaking those heart string-stretching thoughts and trading for a better focus, you hang the wringed sheets on the line as the last blazes of the sun spread over the field, and take a moment to rest your elbows on the log fence at the back of the yard overlooking the vast, lush area. 

Something heavy, once more, tugs at your weary limbs, watching the calm breeze push along the beige blades of plant-life, and you think of Sylvie— her bright mane and soothing demeanor, the rush of riding with her and him. The thrill no longer chased, waiting for you still. There must be a few months worth left of him, two at the least, perhaps enough to soothe your aching heart in seeking more vibrant days. But before too long, you set back on your course of chores, trekking up to tidy the bathing rooms for those coming back from a dirty day.

Jack finds you there an hour later in the open door, kneeling on the floor by the bathing tub, scrubbing away at its already-shiny exterior, and he smiles under the sticky and sweaty clothes, watching the way your body jostles with movement.

“Hey, cruel woman.”

Halting, your head briefly hangs between your shoulders before you sit back on your heels and grin up at him, his weary feet leading him towards you, a set of clean clothes hanging off his arm. His shirt is sheer in some places more than others, namely his chest, damp with muscular effort. 

“Did you have a hard day, Jack?” You question, making big eyes at him from your low spot compared to his tall height, and his face grows slightly stern.

“Oh, darlin’, you know I did,” he kneels, takes your chin in his hand and you find yourself leaning up into his face, mere inches from his lips, entranced by their pouty curve. But he doesn’t kiss you. He pinches your chin harder, a deep pressure as he looks over you, taking in the way you indulgently advance until you’re on hands and knees, caged by his own, staring at him with none of the power you held this morning.

“You oughta continue what you started…” he whispers almost on your lips, never close enough to touch, your eyelids heavily drooping as you look down his torso, leading to his cock.

“Oh,” you sigh, slick pooling where he can’t see or feel it, “Jack, I can…” 

You crawl forward between his spread legs until your nose nudges the material of his pants, resting your weight back on your knees when you reach out for him, but his face is a sinister, knowing grin when steadily rises back up to stand, rocking into his heels.

“Not now, though,” he coos, swiping a damp thumb over your lip, “off you go, little lady.”

“Why—”

Whining involuntarily, you watch while he shrugs off his suspenders and closes his eyes, fluttering back open with a smirk at Mrs. Adler’s distant call for you to prepare dinner.

“That’s why.”

Your mouth hanging open, you roll your eyes, taking his calloused hand as he aids you upward from the hard floor, though he finally gives you a greeting of a peck on the cheek, “Later, angel, you can show me what you’ve been thinkin’ about all day.”

Nudging your body, he sends you off to your chores in a frazzled state and shuts the door with a wink, settling in to wash himself off from the dust and dirt.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so needy, it nearly feels stupid to still have the crushing weight of wanting Jack as you chop ingredients, peek into cupboards, fill plates. It’s even worse when he sits at the table, clean and fresh and irresistibly smooth, chatting in easy conversation with Mrs. Crockett who enjoys his company dearly as she tells him uninteresting stories of her husband. 

He watches your back as you turn about the steps, as you pass along plates to each person, and he brushes his fingers purposely along yours when you arrive at his spot, a gesture to offer his silent token of appreciation. Your breath catches, and his wink sets it free again through a quiet sigh, smiling sweetly for him. He tries not to laugh, you notice, and you stop yourself from touching his shoulder here in front of everyone— namely Mrs. Crockett, who has also made a poor reputation of gossip and a budding friendship with Mrs. Adler who is closest to her in age. The last thing you can manage is a rumour about your little life; by that point you’d be begging Jack to take you with him even before the post office is built, even with so much left to explore with him.

As the chitter-chatter diminishes down to an empty table with empty plates, and the visitors disperse into corners or run off to different buildings— they always come back for dinner to get their money’s worth— you sort out the dried laundry, slipping into the ladies’ rooms to aid with corsets, all with distant thoughts in a place where they shouldn’t be. They never ask about your day so much as they speak of theirs, whether time spent with their sweetheart, telling you how they prefer their things folded, or muttering how much they liked dinner. The last one you take lightly, thanking the ladies in whispers. Now, though, it doesn’t cause as much of an ache in your heart when you listen to their free and happy memories— you think of doing the same with Jack, of asking him and receiving his sweet smile in return, ready if you are.

When you finally sit at your simple vanity, it’s with a powerful sigh that you remove your boots, step out of your clothes, and trade them for your nightgown. You pull the threaded pink ribbon taut into a bow, and look over yourself in the mirror, giddy in your stomach for when the time comes to slip into Jack’s room. Judging by the clock, another half hour would do to be sure everyone has settled in so you can sneak in complete privacy, and it feels less daunting now than it ever did before.

Folding your petticoat to lay the soft cotton on the tabletop, you hear the handle click and turn and you gasp fiercely in response, rising from the chair as Jack all but barrels in, haphazardly shutting the door before swooping you into his arms.

“Oh, my—” you squeal, cut off by a rough kiss that you eagerly return, bombarded with the scent of his soap and shaving cream. You only urge him off with your hands sneaking between your bodies to press on his chest and ask a burning question, his lips not wanting to part from you. It’s a tiny struggle but he eventually gives way, fondly looking down at you as you speak. “Did anyone see you?”

“Hall was empty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ of you… lost my damn patience,” he croons, plushy lips open on your neck, leaving kisses that bloom into pleasant flourishes of need like ink dipped into water. It’s a new spot that you allow him to explore, bringing your hands up his wide shoulders as you turn around the room together, stepping at random. “Had to keep from touchin’ myself and dreamin’ of you…”

You wrap your arms around his neck, reeling him in closer for a whisper against the shell of his ear.

“You don’t have to dream, Jack, I’m here.”

His breath stutters uncharacteristically and it must be your chance to keep him like this, his pleasure dependent on what you decide to do with him— so you pin your front to his and he grunts, giving a miniscule, testing rut back.

“No more teasin’?” he asks hopefully, sweet brown eyes glowing in the low light of your little lamp. “You weren’t so nice this morning…”

“Oh, Jack, I’m not so sure about that.”

In a mirror of the morning, you slip your hand lower to find his cock hard again, splaying your fingers over its thick length and rubbing over the fabric. He squeezes your waist, digging his thumbs in helplessly as he staves off a groan in a bid to keep what willpower is still left with him, then loses it all when you place a simple kiss to his collarbone, not open or rough or wet— just plain, pressed lips to his skin, and he asks you for more.

“Will you let me touch you this time?” you murmur, urging him backward onto the bed. He slumps over the mattress, eyes trained on your face as he places himself further up with his legs spread, palms sinking into the covers. He swallows thickly when he takes you in: standing over him in the sheer, light fabric of your nightgown, its lace edges bordering the slopes of your body.

“I want you in my mouth,” you continue, lowering yourself to your knees, hands over his own as he shuts his eyes and breathes deep, long breaths, grunting when he feels your fingers working at his buttons. “Think I’ve earned it.”

“You could ask me for anything you want, darlin’... shit—” His thighs tense under your ministrations as you reach in and pull his cock out, the tip of it shining in his own, generous arousal. He looks down from himself to your sparkling eyes, and cups your cheek in his large hand, its smoothness traveling down the curve of your face. “Anything you want.”

His lip twitches, mouth falling delicately open and his eyes shutting once more as you place your tongue flat at the base, licking upward, circling around the head while you watch his face strain and pull, his neck sticking out prominently. He’s gorgeous when you touch him like this, still so fresh and clean from the bath. The warm drips of precum glide slowly on your tongue as you hold it out, then wrap your lips around him, whining when he fists through your hair and cramps his fingers.

“That mouth is just about gonna kill me already,” he rasps, bucking his hips up a smidge to perch himself deeper in your mouth, your hand rising to cover his at the base of your neck. Its heat is dangerous yet satisfying in its revelation of just how affected he is, a tiny spot of sweat swiping from his palm onto your neck.

Blinking up at him, you pull off, wetly sliding over half the length of him before moving back down to take more, feeling it brush against the back of your throat. You keep him there as he squeezes you harder, his spine curling over you and the new sound he makes is just begging to be heard, but he smothers it with a bite of his own lip to quiet it.

“Like that…” he sighs, carefully canting his hips forward as you wrap your fingers around his base, enveloping him and spreading the wetness of your mouth over his entire length.

He glistens like that, shimmering in the low and golden light, fisting at the blanket and your hair, puffing focused breaths every time you take him deeper, longer, sucking him harder.

Up and down, you keep your lips wrapped snugly around his cock, its throbbing heft a pleasurable weight on your tongue, the satisfying hit of the head at your throat.

“Where have you fuckin’ been,” he nearly laughs in disbelief that you’re even here, much less on your knees, much less with your mouth around him.

Pulling off for a deep breath, you trace the edges of your nightgown, eyeing him and his debauched, handsome face as you bring the lacy straps off your arms, leading them from your wrists. “I’ve always been here.” 

The fabric gathers at your waist in a soft pool of cotton and ribbon, your chest bare and level with his cock.

“Do you like that, Jack?” you preen, settling closer to him this time over the hard and truthfully painful floor— you don’t notice it as much when you feel him hitting that spot all the way down your throat.

“You know I do,” he smiles breathlessly, crinkles and that little dimple creasing in his content face. He leans down for a kiss, its nature unlike the urgency of your own mouth wetting his cock— it’s always sweet like he is to you in every other way, lingering there before you lean into the space between his legs, eager.

“I wanted you all day,” you coo, running a thumb over his tip, a saturated kiss placed there before you put him in your mouth for a brief suck, managing to keep him inside for a few short seconds. “I should have felt so tired after what you did to me, but all I could think of was this.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, he then lets it go in a gravelly sigh as he holds your bobbing head in his hands, spanning the sides of your face. Your forehead brushes his soft stomach as you push down, hollowed cheeks hugging every inch of him and he jolts, driving himself the smallest bit further, moaning at the tight and wet sensation of you. You pump him, looking so falsely innocent between his legs, your chest and shoulders bare for him to admire, peeking out of the fine gown.

“Keep goin’ darlin’, I’m gonna fill that pretty mouth up... know you want it down your throat, bet you thought about havin’ my cum drippin’ from your mouth all day, too, hm?”

Licking the tip and rubbing him faster, you nod fervently, opening wide in a stretch to finish him off with firm squeezes and strokes, his breaths now raggedly rough from above you every time he hits that spot. Your mouth is hot on his skin and he warns you he’s going to cum soon, he’s going to fill your mouth up nice and good, and you shut your eyes tight in concentration, focused on the thick feel of him sliding in and out between your lips.

“Wanna see you when I fill you baby doll, c’mere n’ look at me.” Jack’s fingers brush the underside of your chin, and you strain to look upward before you slide your hand over his slick cock. He tenses up by another degree, his chest and forehead damp, throat straining as he swallows thickly. 

A final squeeze and he cums all over your extended tongue, the milky liquid sliding off and onto your chest as he moans through gritted teeth, dazed as you are as you both watch it drip all over your exposed half. You swallow what remains in your mouth, letting your jaw drop to show him your now clean slate.

Bending into you and still panting, he smiles, streaking his thumb down your chin to gather up what’s left, guiding it into your open mouth. Heart racing, you take it in, your enthusiastic glow causing his face to soften.

His gaze drifts south to linger on your glimmering chest, pressing his palm flat and firm into the slight pool of it. He paints you with it, spreading his cum all over each breast with a clear sheen from the separation, special attention granted to each nipple with a flick of his wet thumb. Its initial warmth has cooled and with it lingers a soothing cover over your front as you lay your cheek over his knee, toying with the worn laces of his boots.

“Now… how to thank my darlin’ girl and her perfect fuckin’ mouth…” Jack wonders aloud as he cups your cheeks in his hands and puts a contrasting, innocent kiss to your forehead.

Grinning up at him and placing your hands over his, you tell him that’s all you wanted to give him, all you needed was to finally feel him in your mouth.

“Well,” he whispers, “I wanna show you what I was thinkin’ about all day long.”

The spark in your eyes must be a blinding one, his hands gliding over the slope of your body as you work yourself back onto your feet, your knees throbbing and sore. Wincing, you balance yourself on his broad shoulders, glancing down to notice his eyes not relieved of their dark hunger.

“Jack, you’re…”

“Not done, angel,” he finishes for you, and that’s when you feel it, the slick dripping past your core to spread slightly down your squeezing thighs. He pushes his sleeves up as the corner of his lip tugs upward too, straight teeth glinting the same as his eyes.

“Your turn, then,” you murmur, parting his hair through your fingers. It falls back into place, his pillowy and gentle lips finding yours as he stands with you, always chasing you, waltzing you backward until your ass bumps against the thick windowsill.

“I was choppin’ wood, thinkin’ of settin’ you right here,” he confesses lowly, ensuring the curtains are drawn completely open with a quick swipe of his hands over the gauzy lengths previously covering the glass, “thinkin’ of fuckin’ you on my fingers like this.”

You situate yourself properly on the sill and he steps back, taking a comically focused once-over of your seated body, but the desire is still so thick it doesn’t even bring you to laugh when he hurriedly comes back to you. He spreads your thighs wide, his palms a fiery heat that couldn’t be further from where you want it.

Tugging at his collar, you reel him in to place an open kiss just under his ear. “Give it to me how you want.”

The glass cools the staggering temperature on your skin as he knocks you into it, your back sticking to its chilly surface in the midst of his swirling breaths, ghosting the edges of your shoulders before he hikes your thighs up higher to his waist.

“You ready for me?” he murmurs with a husky voice, and it’s a powerful shock from your head to your toes, seeing how easily he’s worked back up to needing you as he lowers a hand to your core. His fingers part you, a slick and effortless slip through your folds to your entrance. “Darlin’... you’re soakin’ my hand already. Did suckin’ my cock do all this to your sweet little cunt?”

A hushed, restrained sound tears from you and is quieted by his mouth covering yours when he rubs his calloused fingers over your clit, rasping those low words sweetly into you, nipping your bottom lip between his teeth as the digits travel lower. The arousal dripping from your cunt makes that first slide so easy, Jack bottoming out to his knuckles with a soft sigh. His stomach nearly touches your own still covered by the bunched nightgown and he pauses there, a reassuring squeeze to your side and then a smooth gracing of his free hand to hold your thigh tight to himself.

“This is where I’ve wanted to be,” he confesses, his nose drawing a line from your shoulder, delicately down to your chest as he bends and swipes his tongue broadly over your sensitive nipple. The signals from your brain to your muscles are jumbled now, feeling the heat of his wet tongue tasting the cum on your chest— it’s out of your control when you arch your back into him and whine, when your fingers tangle into his hair and tug.

He responds in a groan, licking across your skin to your unattended nipple which he suckles on gently, lapping at it. Jack curls his two thick fingers before straightening out to kiss you fleetingly on your lips; he parts and watches your eyes intently, a stray curl falling to hang between his brows.

“So full already, hm?” he teases, his thumb swiping slow patterns on your clit, and you lean further back into the glass with a pant, its surface no longer able to cool you down.

“Yes,” you manage to respond in a gasp as he grants a second, deeper hit, a slight slapping sound causing you both to hug each other tighter and chuckle.

“Tight, sweet thing,” he groans, extended curls and strokes stretching you wholly around his hand, “take my fingers just right. Is that it, darlin’, were you made for me to fill you?”

“Mm,” you suck in sharp breaths, “mhm, you fill me up, Jack, you fill me up so good.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, and his chin hooks onto your shoulder, digging into it hard as he holds you with one toned arm snaking around your waist. Like this, your damp chest brushes his, his fingers pump and work you open another smidge wider as he pushes in, grinds his palm against your clit, pulls his fingers out a fraction of the way. The motions of his hips against his own wrist are gentle, unhurried for now, having already cum into your slack mouth.

With the flat of his free palm caressing your back through soft strokes, he draws his lips back and forth over the curve of your neck.

“You know what I see?” he asks, urging his knuckles deeper in the hardest plunge he's given you tonight, an agonizingly fiery touch to your clit. “Men, walkin’ around all dumb— could see me fuckin’ you right here on my hand if they’d just look up— shit, they got no clue I’m feelin’ the wettest little pussy, huh?”

“Fuck, Jack,” your nails dig into the lean and muscular bulge of his biceps as he keeps you upright against the glass, your thighs squeezing him so close he can hardly fuck you anymore— he just rubs and grinds his hand against you while remaining far inside your aching pussy, soaking his already drenched fingers with more slick.

“And only I’m gonna watch you cum,” he adds in a grunt, working himself into you with every last drop of energy he’s saved, his soft moans and sharp teeth spurring you closer to coming all over his perfect fingers. You might have gone longer if not for the irreversible, desperate need for him that sucking his cock had instilled in you— had you nearly dripping onto the floor, your body left unimaginably sensitive that each time he brushes up against you now, you dig deeper into his skin. He likes it though, and it makes him move with a crazed edge, his moans transforming into snarls.

“Only you…” you echo, starting to grind with him yourself, rolling into and meeting his short, fast thrusts, every muscle tensing and straining and it’s so close, almost there—

“There you go, doll, can feel you squeezin’ me so tight… cum on my hand, fuckin’ soak me, c’mon…”

“Jack, Jack I’m gonna—” Urgently, you tap at his shoulder with wide eyes and worried brows as you feel it start to happen, knowing how close you are to crying— your nails dig into his shoulders so intensely when you cum, jaw dropped and eyes shut and he makes a wincing yet completely pleased noise into your mouth; it’s cruel. You manage not to make a peep at the cost of losing large breaths, and it makes your orgasm all the more intense: light headed, woozy, and tingling numbness reaching the length of your body.

“Sweeter than fuckin’ honey when you do that,” he smiles widely, until his mouth drops fully open at the way you hug his hand inside from coming so hard around him. Your slick gathers between your thighs and you still can’t breathe, his face buried into the spot under your jaw as he pulls them out of you, dragging the pads up to your clit while the rest of it spreads throughout your folds. He stares down at it, at the wetness dripping and glistening from your core, and he groans again, blinking slowly.

Placing his palms on the sill by either side of your trembling figure, he hums, your smile against his skin buzzing at his insatiable drive, how he’d fucked your mouth and your pussy with such short rest, feeling the damp hair at the back of his neck. He drops his head down as an offering and you take him in a gentle cradle, kissing his forehead as he’d done to you while he nestles. He looks up and back down, waiting for another, your fingers smoothing the unruly hair from his face.

“Hell, if I don’t wanna fuck that pretty pussy every night till I die,” he exhales, another glance at his wet fingers, dropping a kiss to your collarbone.

“Oh, Jack,” you laugh, your heels hitting the wall underneath you, “if only you were here for that long.” 

His face scrunches a little in confusion before his lips curve, “How many times do I have to remind you I ain’t leavin’ so soon?”

“As many times as it takes,” you whisper, fingers scratching down his arms, his own dipping into your cunt again without a warning, “fuck—”

“Yeah, baby doll,” he croons, “I got somethin’ to prove to you still?”

You nod with a greedy smirk and he retracts his fingers, taking them into his mouth after drawing a line between your breasts to taste your mingled releases, moaning in your ear. “Go n’ get on the bed. You’re gonna ride my face.”

A shiver chills your spine, mainly at the way his voice has dropped a miraculous third time, his hand landing a light swat on your ass when you pass him, shaky legs taking you toward the mattress. He follows to lay on his back, perpetually pleased with himself, arms outstretched and beckoning you forward. You crawl up to him and you can feel your own cum streaking your thighs as you move, soon beside his large body, and he raises his brows impatiently, “Well go on, sugar, I wanna taste some more of that.”

Stretching his neck every which way, his eyes crinkle as he grins between your thighs while you throw one over his shoulder and his arms fall behind him, fingers searching for yours until he laces them together, squeezing.

“You’re not tired yet, old cowboy?” you tease lightly, the force of it lost when he gives a broad swipe of his tongue and moans yet another time, indulgently, swallowing the remnants of your previous release.

“I ain’t ever gonna tire of this,” he replies, another lick from your entrance to your clit, such an easy slip of the muscle, your sensitivity dialed up too many extra notches. His brows knit together in effort, rough cheeks pleasantly scratching on your skin when he moves his head side to side, tongue hanging out of his mouth and edging with a perfect pressure all over your sensitive bud.

“I’d hope not,” you exhale, grinding your hips over his wet mouth until his grip moves to your thighs to prevent you from moving. His eyes look up at you keenly as he closes his lips around your clit and sucks, your head tipping in silent rapture as you take it all for him without the relief of motion. 

“We go real nice together,” he grumbles into your slick center. Tightening the hold of your thighs, he laves his tongue all over you in focused circles, faster, with just enough force for your legs to start shaking around his handsome face, for another gush of arousal to spread over his swollen lips. All that’s left for you to handle it is to scream it out, how good he makes you feel, how precious, but the house is so silent and only you can hear the slick sounds of his mouth on your clit— he won’t even let you rub yourself over him. You can only bite your lip and hold your breath, yet little puffs and moans sneak out when he does something unforeseen, like a single bite on your thigh or a gentle nip to challenge you— it’s all on purpose and easily noticed by his gratified face.

He tugs your clit a short, miniscule distance and lets it go, shaking his head when you mope over the loss of contact.

“Are you tryin’ for me, sugar?”

“You’re being tough on me,” you whine, shimmying further up his body to regain his lips that are brightly shining.

“If I ain’t tough then it ain’t right,” he whispers, “stay still and quiet for me and I’ll take you out again.”

He tips his head down and forward, swiping his prominent nose to spread you further open, but you don’t even consider the promise of a gift, your focus on the return of his soaked tongue to your throbbing core, biting hard on your lip to quell the need to cry.

“Is my darlin’ gonna come? You gonna cum all over my face? Gimme another one, dolly.” His mouth latches back onto your clit and you can’t think, much less form an answer in your blank head where all you see is white, or maybe blinding stars, or just plain nothingness as you let go, his moustache wet with you, his lips dripping.

By some miracle, the scream you fend off becomes so high pitched in your throat that nothing makes it out of you save for the helpless cry of, “Jack!” as you tremble around his cheeks.

“Yes,” he grunts, and thank goodness it’s muffled by your soaking core; your fingers finally escape his hold to grip at his hair with a fierce, unforgiving tug, and that softer sound fills the room again while your body freezes up and you cum harder this time, covering him, coating him. He grumbles something again, but it’s nothing you could hope to make out in the crushing wave of pleasure that hits you— the light sensation does not leave you, though the shaking eases off as Jack places a tender kiss to your clit, and you jolt at just that velvet brush, his eyes turning sympathetic. You breathe deep, slumping with great exhaustion and the dazed happiness of having him in your room now as you lift your thigh from his body and he leans his head up to grant a quick kiss while it slips away from him.

“Knew you could be quiet,” he smiles under the shine of your second release, resting his arms open over the blanket to welcome you into them.

“As if you don’t make it hard.” Huffing, it’s with a reciprocal smile that you crawl back to him, nearly toppling over on your way with the weakness of his own power against your body, and he chuckles at you, not shying away from his joyous teasing when you throw him a half-glare.

“Did I wear you out again?” he questions, guiding you into his side, turning his body over yours to swipe his tangy tongue over your bottom lip.

Whimpering, it turns into a cheerful giggle as he drops pecks over your nightgown, wrapping his finger around the tail of the ribbon. 

“You just keep going, don’t you, Jack?” you cup his face in your hands, and it’s now that he adopts a sheepish expression, turning his eyes away to tilt his neck and kiss your stomach once more.

“Until you ask me to stop, darlin’.” He lends two more kisses, one to each breast, and then gathers the straps of your nightgown from the pooling of fabric underneath your chest, tenderly helping your arms through the holes. You admire him quietly as you sit up to ease the gesture, letting his fingers guide the intricate lace edges back to your shoulders. He pats the cotton down to smooth it, your thumb stroking over his left eyebrow. His hands pry under you to wrap his arms around your middle, his cheek resting over your belly as you scratch through his dark hair. 

“I think you’re softer than you realize,” you whisper, twirling a lock around your finger and he peeks up, the apples of his cheeks rising in a twinkling smile.

“I can shoot a gun a million times but I sure don’t like it more than kissin’ you,” Jack coos, tickling up your sides and swatting away your protesting hands until you make an involuntary squeak and his eyes widen, hurriedly covering your mouth with his own. You titter over his smooth lips, his weight pinning you as he opens his mouth, taking more. “I’d think I’d have sold my soul to the devil to end up here with you if I didn’t know any better.”

You let the next bubbling ripple of affection take over you when he whispers that with his gleaming eyes, and you kiss him three more times, each slower than the last.

He rests there for some time, indulging in the carding of your fingers over his scalp, and he ensures you’ve drifted off before he rises in search of a cloth. He finds a green one folded by your petticoat, his fingers briefly dragging across its white lace before he dips the cloth in the small dish of water left beside it. He crawls back up beside you, lazily yet with careful attention guiding it under your slip and over your breasts, relieving you of the stickiness. You stir but don’t wake— his touch is too light, yet still unlike a feather— he cleans you off, sets the cloth back in its spot, and resumes his position, nestled up next to you.

-

Sneaking into Jack’s room— or him into yours— becomes a habitual routine after the goodnight click of Mrs. Adler’s door, though you often find yourself with an early visitor with eyes too bright and a needy little grin on his face. It follows his giddy lips on your neck hours before in scarce moments of isolation from other guests, or after he’s stared too long across the bar, and to ease the tension, he’ll ride to take Sylvie to stretch her legs, a sympathetic look on his face at the door knowing you can’t join.

And he wears you out. Nightly. A simmering threat to your timeliness in the morning that you can’t let go of. A single time, he’d taken the sheets with him in a rapid roll onto the floor as Mrs. Adler knocked and knocked outside, calling for you to rise, until she barged in and the thump had to be blamed on yourself, standing in your disheveled chemise. Her shifty eyes become less of a fear in your head and more of a laughing stock, though not as much as Jack was in his stupid course of action to thump on the floor behind the side of the mattress, taking the blankets, too.

His dignity is not lost, though, each time you press on him about it— his grip tightens over your thighs as you straddle his lap, feeling the impression of his leather settling into your skin.

A rare clump of clouds settles over town the following week, lingering long enough to darken this evening further and forcing an early lighting of the lamps inside, a cozy glow over the hectic and crazed state of the bar.

“Let’s not slack, dearie,” Mrs. Adler sings in her urgently high-pitched voice as you handle the treacherous beast of the card game hours, handling too many requests for the strongest liquor from the cabinet, working your wrists as you open new bottles and impatient sighs crumble out of overworked throats.

Jack glances at her, a rapid flick of his angry eyes as he sets his glass of whiskey down, furrowing his brows in obvious disagreement with her words.

“She’s doin’ fine,” you hear him grumble, and you don’t have it in you to turn and face him to offer your surely-silencing glare, and without it he continues, “think we could offer a little patience.”

Chest fluttering, you shut your eyes with a bothersome huff, setting your hands flat over the counter as you wait for Mrs. Adler’s response, and the other men waiting at the dining table chat over things well beyond you, another fleeting mention of the Statesmen— but Jack remains silent along with her, and you can already picture the way he must be maintaining a hard stare at the old woman to leave her increasingly frazzled.

“My girl does this every day,” she states primly, blocking his view of your back with her own body after an uncoordinated waddle, “you keep out of it.”

Jack scoffs, soft but pointed, the wood groaning under the slide of his glass as he moves it aside, “If you cared to notice, ma’am—”

Spinning on your boot, away from the assortment of glasses set over the counter in their stage of finishing touches, you raise a hand, his first name almost slipping out until you choke on the unspoken word, widened eyes earning a mirrored expression from Jack, “It’s alright, Mr. Daniels,” you soothe, and his smirk is much too telling in his amusement of your spluttering, that you’d called him the old, proper name.

Mrs. Adler huffs a victorious breath as she checks over the full and heavy tray, granting approval while you giggle at Jack’s silly face made behind her back, followed by a wink of his eye. 

He closes his eyes as Mrs. Adler finally limps off into her study— what she achieves in there he does not know— and watches you with affection and a warming dose of admiration in his stomach as you handle the tray, setting down shining crystal glasses on the table, a soft smile on your face as the youngest card player offers his thanks. They rarely ever do.

“You look real nice,” he drawls as you round the counter, his elbows sliding along the surface as he leans in, all sparkling eyes and teeth with his wide grin as he follows your steps. “I think I’d like to get my hands on—”

His words fall away to a whisper as you shake your head in feigned annoyance, the laughter stealing your breath as you lean opposite him, taking in the sly look on his face and the pull of his shirt across his shoulders. His hand reaches for yours, tentatively, and you’re powerless against the sweet touch on your fingers as he traces them out, pulling your palm into a bed of his two hands. 

You watch as his eyes set on the random patterns he draws, eyelashes curling against his face every time he blinks, your conscious mind soon oblivious to your placement in relation to the large group at the dining table— but it doesn’t matter. They’re as absorbed in their gambling as you are in his focused touch and feel, your heart an obnoxious flutter when he smiles up at you, a perfect mix of kind and sultry darkness. 

“I’d like to get my hands on you,” he murmurs, those repeated words spoken lower this time and with a twinkle, raising the back of your hand to his lips. A gentle press, your eyes locked together in a soft gaze to match, and he gives you back your hand as the spell of slowed-time is broken by a shocking round of cheering from the group behind you both.

With a subdued grin, you ease yourself away from the magnetic pull of your lips to his, “You’ve always got your hands on me.”

“And in,” he huffs, stifling a snicker at the fifth roll of your eyes today, watching the ends of your tied apron’s ribbon swing around over the length of your skirt. 

“You’d better find something to do in the meantime, or I’ll be asking Mrs. Adler to send you off herself.”

Jack shudders in a fake paddy of fear, the miniscule shakes of his body diminishing the sooner he realizes the severity of your words, and he merely chuckles. “Why’d you want to get rid of me?”

The pleading pull of his face and the wide and warm eyes he gives are somehow not enough to stop you from gesturing your head towards the pile of dirty dishes from dinner, waiting beside the basin. “You’re distracting.”

“Sweetpea, I’m ‘fraid that’s what you’ve got yourself caught up in,” Jack rests his chin in his palm, eyeing the clearing weather outside, “if you insist on woundin’ me, I think I’ve got a horse who needs to go for a ride, and a little lady who’ll have to join us next time…”

“I’ll see you later, Jack,” you whisper, rounding the edge of his ear with your fingers, easing his hair back into place and he adopts a light blush— softer things always more efficient in pausing his heartbeat than harsher things— and he grabs his hat left to the side of him, placing it over his head and bidding you a caring goodbye, “Miss me, darlin’.”

-

Once the room has cleared at last, leaving you in that familiar spot with soapy hands, sore feet, and a wandering mind, you arrange the wet dishes to dry, stacking each on top of the other with meticulous attention. You dry your hands on the fabric of your apron, rough cotton soaking up the water, your back leaning into the hard edge of the bar behind you. The strain in your neck grows sharper as you push your head back, groaning, willing away the next few hours until you can put your feet to rest upon Jack’s lap. 

And at the thought of him, a whistle from the exterior shoots your stream of mental pictures down as your head whips to look out the window, and there he is— Jack, thighs spread wide over Sylvie’s back as he urges her to stop, his eyes straining to find you through the window. Stomach twisting, you make a speedy trip to the stash of berries hidden away, and you pull a handful of them into your apron’s pocket before sparing the parlour a thorough peek and slipping out the front door.

It’s not loud enough for you to make out, but it must be Jack’s voice in a baby soft tone as he tells Sylvie what sounds like “there she is,” with a pat between her perky ears and a smile towards you. 

“Hello,” you grin, stepping to the edge of the porch where you meet the two of them, shamelessly devouring the way he sits tall upon her in the dying sunlight clear of clouds, dark clothes, dark hair, dark eyes, a bandana hugging his neck under his glistening throat. “Back so soon?”

“It was her idea,” Jack pokes, leaning back in the saddle as Sylvie adjusts her hooves into place over the dust and sparse blades of wheatgrass. “Suppose I had to lead her here, though…”

With a hand gliding along her wide neck, you watch his smile only grow in size as he watches you gather the berries from your pocket and throw a quizzical look his way, to which he nods enthusiastically, leaning forward again to watch and guide.

You call her name softly, approaching her from a better angle, and she makes an odd pattern with the movement of her head before she digs into your offered palm of treats, her wide mouth a great tickle on your skin that you try not to flinch at.

“Nice girls,” Jack whispers, swiping his hand over Sylvie’s shoulder, then turning his attention to you. “No more flak from the lady, I’m hopin’?”

“No, haven’t seen her since,” you giggle, “you know, Jack, that was kind what you did, but I am still fine.” 

Sylvie chomps down the rest of your stash of berries, licking the leftover juices off your palm as you gasp, retracting your arm, and Jack extends his hand far across to you in a warm beckoning. You give him the dry one and he laughs when he notices, “I ain’t afraid of no horse’s mouth,” steering you around to where he’s sat on the saddle.

“You’re not even afraid of Mrs. Adler,” you say bluntly, resting your laced hands over the meat of his thigh and then your chin on top, and Jack stares down at your widened eyes, his chest stuttering with a slightly choked breath.

“I came here to see you, darlin’, to tell you somethin’.” Running his thumb over your hand, he starts to lean his body down, your own straightening for his lips to meet your ear in a warm breath, sending ice down your spine and a melting heat between your thighs.

He waits for your prompt, his radiating need causing your posture to wither as you slant up and into him, “What is it?”

Whatever upward curve your lips adopted seconds before falls away as your eyes close, that heat between your thighs now wetter, your grip on his leg tight enough to pinch.

“I’m gonna take you out again tonight, gonna lay you in the grass and fuck you dumb, listenin’ to you whine loud as you can.”

He’s utterly pleased with the visible, hitching breath you can no longer take in, your chest pausing in its stunted passing, and he straightens up his back again to look down at you with his face shadowed under his hat. “Ain’t that somethin’ old girl, the little lady is speechless…” Jack coos to the horse and she puffs, followed by another pat of her hoof on the ground, and his grin is a mix of genuine and egotistical happiness.

“Jack,” you purr, all bothered and wobbly-knees, a helpless look in your eye as you tug the looped rope, and he prepares to ride back off. He doesn’t partake in your pleading this time, instead giving a squeeze of his legs over Sylvie’s back.

“Same place, darlin’,” he calls, “I expect you.” 

A backward glance and a tip of his hat as courtesy— or to make up for his foolish teasing— and his figure dies off in the gunpowder dust behind him and his girl, his jacket the same one you’d worn your first time away. 

-

It’s cool and dark the next time you step out onto the porch, carefully shutting the door behind you, locking it with your key. You rub your hands over the sides of your arms as you creep over the wood, peeking past the pillars before descending the three short steps. Same place, he’d said, so you set off in the direction of the stables, bathed in the soft light of the spaced lamp posts, the same exhilarating rush as the first time bubbling head to toe. 

“Ever heard of a sweet little maid ‘round here?” Jack’s happy rumbling sounds just behind you, turning into laughter at the yelp you let out, its sound squeaky and fearful until he catches you by the waist, pulling your back into his chest to sway your body around aimlessly. “Works for a Mrs. Adler, prettiest face you ever saw…”

An endeared giggle falls out of you, mouth covered immediately by your hand when he comes to place his chin on your shoulder, his fingers pressing tightly to your middle. His clothing feels rough by your neck, unlike anything else you’ve felt him wearing against you, but his cheek is soft and freshly shaven, his lips hungrily kissing behind your ear.

“Oh, I’m not so sure I have…” you murmur, allowing yourself to sink backward into his promising support, and his hum is sweet into your skin when you say so, arms squeezing you just enough for your feet to lift from the ground. 

“She’s got angel eyes,” he whispers, a finger coming to trail down your cheek as he lets you back down, until his hand cups your chin, turning your head sideways to capture your lips in a deep, swelling kiss. Your own hand rises to mirror his gesture, knees suddenly like water with their wobbly weakness, and the ball of your foot scrapes over the dust as he tugs you even closer, tasting your lips. 

“That might ring a bell,” you smile when you finally part, stroking your thumb over his jaw. He likes the way it feels, tilting himself further into your light grip of his face. The world surrounding you will never be the same level of interest when he stands before you— a daydream of an outing only seems as sweet if he’s there. A guidance, of sorts, a protector.

Roaming your eyes over him, a surprised gasp follows that welcoming kiss when you notice his top half covered in a navy blue poncho, its edges finished with white tassels and the wool adorned with white lines making intricate patterns over the length and width of it.

“Where have you been hiding this from me?” you simper, picking up the edge of it to feel the slightly scratchy material. He grins, weight shifting to one foot with a cocked hip, hands resting at the base of his suspenders underneath.

“Hidin’ it?”

“You’ve always got that jacket on,” you murmur, leaning upward, grabbing his face in an internal fit of fondness at seeing him covered in the blanket-like garment, giving him a harsher kiss that surprises him enough to nearly stumble backwards. He gains his balance, beaming against your mouth as he steadies the both of you, the world returning.

“You sure keep me on my toes, little lady,” he breathes, brows raised in bashfulness that you forget he has stored in that cocky brain. “Don’t you stop.”

Humming, your hand falling to rest on his chest as you recall more private contexts to his last words, you notice he wears a cross-body leather satchel underneath the poncho. “What have you got in there?”

“I can’t be full of surprises if you wanna make me spill ‘em all,” he teases, pushing his nose into yours, “come on, just you n’ me tonight.”

With your fingers laced together, Jack leads you through the familiar field to an unfamiliar spot at the top of a climbing hill, large rocks worsening the upward trek under the minimal light.

His hands find the backs of your thighs as he helps you over the last hump and your frustrated huff gets lost in your throat when you realize his hands are helping you up under your skirt instead of over.

“Jack,” you guffaw, using your biceps to push up and over the hard surface and he plays dumb behind you, a deep chortling following as you roll over to the flat space of dry grass above it. Looking ahead you notice a small gathering of wood placed in a circle around the center of the clearing in the trees while Jack rolls up next to you, much more gracefully with what must be years of practice.

He shares a sideways glance with you, “What?” 

His pouty lips drag downward in his falsely innocent question, your eyes rolling without annoyance but with affection. He grabs your hand again, tugging you near the woodpile and he reaches into the satchel, revealing a box of matches in his palm.

“Is this what you did earlier?” you ask, a bewildered softness easing over your shoulders, and he nods with a grin.

“Sylvie n’ I came here to get it ready.”

Sliding the box open, he strikes the match against the rough side of the cover sleeve and the spark ignites a smoking, small flame that he holds to a coil of waxed thread under the arranged sticks and wood. It catches on and flourishes upward, sprinkling tiny sparks that rise then fall by Jack as he recoils, standing back up to his feet.

“How’s that?” he looks at you, pulling you into his warm side, your fingers instinctively wrapping around a tassel. You raise your other hand to hover over the fire, its heat so pleasant and lively on your skin and you look back at him with the same fondness as always for his generous gifts, that might not even be considered a gift to anyone else but you.

“Thank you, Jack.” On your tiptoes, you place a kiss on his cheek filled with all the words you can’t think to say— it’s only a campfire, and to you, it holds all his care, burning there.

“There’s more,” he whispers, and his fingers rise to touch where your lips had just been, then he looks to them and you, smiling. “Said you wished you could run,” he starts, pointing to an old, battered tin can sitting atop a tree stump several feet away, “reckon there’s a few things you’ll need to learn first.”

From underneath the wool, he pulls out one of his revolvers and it shines in the flickering fire, freshly polished. He extends his hand, your own hesitantly touching it’s handle, cupping the barrel with the other as you slowly hold it on your own.

“Jack, I really don’t know about—”

“Careful,” he coos, circling back to stand behind you and placing his hands on your hips, he helps you adjust your grip with the beginning of his lesson whispered into your ear, his hands gentle as they cover yours. “Two hands.”

“I’m not sure I’m the gun slinging type,” you whisper nervously, your palms becoming clammy just handling the weapon, and you remember when its silver glint was pointed at Mr Porter, under its power.

“Always assume a gun’s loaded,” he continues, aiding you in extending your arms out, the aim at the can improving as you go. “Feet apart.”

With the toe of his boot on the inside of your ankle, he pushes your feet further apart until shoulder-width, and your shoe slides over the dry grass as you suck in a deep breath at the physical order. 

“Hold it tighter,” he whispers next, ensuring your fingers are hugging the grip tightly, your other hand cupping the trigger guard firmly. “Don’t leave your finger on the trigger unless you’re aimed and ready.” 

Jack is rasping now, a growing hardness on your ass from watching you handle his own weapon with determination and he pinches your hips, inciting a gasp as you try to keep your arms steady.

“The cylinder's full,” he adds, “you hit the can and I’ll make good on my promise.”

With the shot of arousal that comes after his words and the reminder of his promise to fuck you hard over the grass, it’s too easy to convince yourself that you’ll miss every shot.

“Won’t somebody hear it?” you question, turning your head as far as you can and he hums thoughtfully, pinching you softer.

“It’s luck if you hear a gunshot from a distance,” Jack soothes. And it hits you, that when Mr. Porter and Mr. Bryant started shooting blindly in the house, that those were the closest bullets had ever been to you— and here, you hold them in your palms.

“Go on, sugar, knock it over and I’ll fuck you right by this fire.”

A whine escapes you before you can aim it again, the grip even sweatier than before, the fire merely a glint now as you focus on the target tin.

Locking your grip around the handle, your pointers steadying the direction, you shut one eye, then the other to test the placement, and you pull back the hammer with a stretch of your thumb.

“I’m scared,” you breathe as your arms remain pointed forward, and Jack nods, applying pressure to your shoulders with his palms.

“I’ll keep you steady. S’okay if you miss.” Jack rubs some of the tension away, your arms growing tired from holding them up as you make one last adjustment. The jolt when you pull the trigger is more powerful than you’d expected, and Jack keeps you still as your body reacts to the sharp sound and the full shock of it. The bullet only just skims the side of the can, a tinkling sound following the jarring shot from the barrel.

“Fuck,” Jack breathes, his eyes wide and his smile too, when he looks from your near-shot to your frightened face turning into confidence. He throws his hat to the side, smoothing his hand through his hair before bending slightly behind you, “that was fuckin’ close, darlin’. Go again.”

His tone is pure excitement as you shake off the last lingering threads of apprehension, and you aim again, not a one inch difference from your first shot, pulling the hammer down a second time.

You place your pointer over the solid trigger and Jack’s breath hitches as he waits and watches intently, his hands still supporting your shoulders. This time, when your upper body jostles back from the force, the shot is farther off but still close, hitting the bark where a small explosion of wood chips scatter to the grass and you startle at the cracking noise, casting a worried look to Jack.

“Keep tryin’,” he soothes, cuddling his cheek to the side of your neck as he cozies up, and you’re certain it’s not the best condition for a shooting lesson, the middle of your thighs gathering slick and your palms more nervous sweat. With a deep breath, you stretch your arms out once more, muscles pulling up tight as you adjust your feet, your eyesight on the tin can reflecting the flames of the little campfire.

“That’s it,” Jack whispers as you touch your finger to the hammer, “focus.”

Scoffing, you settle your aim, determined to ignore the way he’s still pressing up against you.

“You’re doin’ great,” his voice scratches just before you pull against the trigger’s resistance and the bullet releases, harder it feels like, and pierces the tin with an incredibly loud metallic pang, sending it fast off the stump. Although you’re not too far from it, you don’t trust it yet; looking back down at the weapon in your hand and then to him, his smile already turns smug. It’s a surprise to hit it at the same time that it’s not— luck or natural talent, you don’t think you’ll ever find out. He shakes his head with pride dripping all over, crushing you into his side with a tense squeeze of his arm, your neck fitting in the bend of his elbow.

“That’s too quick,” you breathe in modesty that Jack tells you to shush away, as your disbelieving eyes fall back on the tree stump, tin can-less. “I wasn’t far away enough.”

“Come on, darlin’.” He disembarks, jogs to the stump, picks up the can behind it. A hole burns through the center on both sides. “Still shot it on the third try.”

When he arrives at your feet again, you peer down at the silver gun in your hold. Struggling to accept your own accuracy, you slowly hand it back to him.

“It'll be harder next time,” he purrs, sliding it back into its holster pocket, “but I think you’ll make the most charmin’ gunfighter in the whole damn world.”

“That’s your title,” you smile, brushing the dark hair from his forehead, curling your fist into the wool draped over him. “And the most handsome, too.”

Jack’s chest puffs out against yours as he preens at your softly-spoken compliment, the tone of his hum pitched in a questioning way to urge you on to continue.

“I’d rather like to learn more about that lasso,” you say instead, fingering where it’s attached to his hip, and he looks at you through his eyelashes, closing his hand around the one fisted in his poncho.

“Hell, if I taught you the ropes I doubt you’d let me out of your room for a whole week, darlin’. We’d better work up to that…”

“Oh well,” you tease, perching yourself up to level your lips with his ear, “you’re too soft on me to be my teacher anyway.”

“Too soft?” He raises his brows, eager to know, causing you to step back as he advances on you.

“Too easy. I ought to shoot that can three more times from ten more feet away just to be sure I’ve learned.”

Jack lays the thick blanket next to the crackling fire after pulling it out of the satchel, motioning for you to come.

“Sugar, I’ll show you rough,” he grumbles, dragging you down to the blanket with him, your chest thumping square on his when you land, a stunted breath into his mouth. His promise, listenin’ to you whine as loud as you can, returns to you now as he holds the back of your neck and opens his lips to brush yours, nipping your lower lip to earn the first wince.

“Don’t disappoint me,” you taunt, landing yourself rolled over and pinned under his heavy weight as he lifts the poncho from his head and drapes it over your bodies, hidden and warm together as you share the fiery heat of yourselves and the physical fire beside you.

“I’d hate nothin’ more than to disappoint you.” He keeps his eyes trained on your face as his fingers creep up your leg, a soft ghosting until he reaches the stark wetness compared to your dry skin everywhere but your core and he’s already groaning at just the sensation of your slick covering his fingers. “Think I could fill you right now, hm? Soakin’ me so fast…”

“I need you to fuck me as hard as you can,” you demand, your head tipping back against the ground underneath the blanket, heat accumulating in your own makeshift tent of the dark poncho. His fingers twitch over your clit as he watches your face twist in effort to get your last coherent thoughts out, “This is where I can cry.”

“Jesus,” his head falls into your shoulder and he rubs his cock on your thigh, covered by his trousers. He’s hard and thick, just as he was watching you shoot his gun, and he lifts your skirt higher, bunching the fabric at your waist. “You always get what you ask for from me.”

Blindly searching with your fingers, you find the buttons of his trousers and pull them open, carefully taking his cock out, the tip leaking generously onto your skin. You spread it for him though it runs out quickly, but your own burning arousal is enough for the two of you as he settles himself closer, his hair flopping out of place. His moustache brushes against your temple when he spreads your legs wider, a soothing slide of your skin over the blanket before you feel his cock running through your slick folds, and it’s enough to start whining. Even the little sounds you let out at the house are suppressed and quietened— here, there is no one but the two of you.

“Give it all to me, baby doll,” he rasps over your throat as he positions himself and pushes past your entrance, slowly stretching you open on his thick cock and your thighs fall open wider, too, your breath heavy and low for him to bask in. “Ain’t that sweet…”

Jack’s eyes carry the glint of the fire beside your bodies as he stays there for some moments, letting you squirm all you need before he flattens you to the ground with his chest, cooing encouraging gentleness to contrast with the untamed way he’s going to fuck you here, on the blanket, again. His cock pushes deeper with the added mass, your whimper not enough when he finally thrusts and hits his hips to your wide-spread thighs and works the wetness of you all over his cock.

“Ja— Jack—” you whine, and his hot hand soon comes to glide over the innermost part of your thigh, rubbing it firmly as if he’s about to—

He spanks your thigh and earns the high-pitch moan he’s been working for all along, drawing himself back to return with a harsh thrust as he keeps his hand on the stinging sensation, groaning out his nose.

“Fu-uuck, there we go, that’s what I wanted,” he grunts through stunted breaths as he sets a new, punishing pace, sliding with ease in and out, hitting deep inside to brush against that satisfying spot that when he slaps the same part of your leg, the pleasure from both makes you cry louder, moan louder.

He draws the wool tighter around his back as he lowers his lips to your mouth, emitting an animalistic groan over your face when you clench around his cock and pull him in closer for another open-mouthed kiss, true and full.

“Oh, god,” you groan, his hand caressing the underside of your thigh, until he draws it up to push your knee on your chest, fitting his hand in the bend of your leg.

“Gimme more, sugar,” he demands, landing a sharp swat to the side of your ass lifted off the ground that gives him your neediest, filthiest sound yet as you fist his hair, taking his brutal pace. 

“Jack, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Fuck,” he curses back harder, “I’m gonna steal you every god damn night for this.” Jack hisses through bared teeth on your collarbone, keening when you raise your hips to meet his. The fire rises beside you at the same time a wave of building pressure in your abdomen knocks through your lower half, and you place your hands on his face, sliding them up to meet his hair.

A shaky breath puffs out of you, the sting of his spankings spreading over your leg as you crane your neck and cry out while he buries himself and grinds against your clit, “You just get wetter n’ wetter for me,” he remarks hoarsely, “just can’t help but need me, hm?”

“I... Yes,” you sigh into his heated neck, your limbs softening in their hold of him as he fucks you hard over the blanket, his grip deathly on the side of your thigh.

“I want to hear it, darlin’, say it to me,” he scrapes, his voice at the bottom of his register, and when the words get stuck in your mind and jumbled out of order from the fullness of your core, he draws himself out and rolls you onto your stomach. Mindlessly, empty, you whine with an equal hoarseness to his own, the end of it pushed out prematurely when he flattens his chest over your back, lining his cock back up with your soaking entrance.

“I’ll pull every last pretty sound you got left in you if I have to.” 

The words are a terrible blow to your senses, sparking a rapid increase in the sound of rushing blood in your ears as he pushes your thigh up to the side and presses down on it with his palm.

“Please…” you breathe, “I’m so close— fuck me, please fuck me again—”

Shutting your eyes, hoping to feel him push himself back inside you, you instead are met with a final, cracking swat on your leg that sends you wailing as Jack waits for you to scream it, “Tell me, sugar!”

“I need you, Jack— I need you!” 

It doesn’t sound like your own voice. Never has it been clouded by so much desire and such a sinful edge to your witless begging, but it’s enough for him. A push forward, and he fills you; his own sounds have grown needier too, reaching far out. He plants a hand by your face and you grab onto his wrist as he shoves his cock repeatedly deeper and at this angle, you could consider the punishing stretch of him painful, but it’s everything you need, causing you to whine a step higher every time his hips hit your ass.

“You’re all I fuckin’ think about, darlin’,” Jack mouths at your earlobe, your bodies turning slick under the poncho and your clothes, “here you are, shootin’ my gun n’ lettin’ me fuck your tight little pussy, beggin’ for me— gonna make me fuckin’ cum.”

Your jaw drops and an involuntary squeal stumbles from your hanging lip, Jack snarling behind you as he plunges again, hooking his hands under your shoulders and splaying his fingers wide over the tops of them.

It’s a taut stretch of your chest when he pulls on you like that, the soft curl of his hair tickling your neck as he nestles his face to yours and muffles his grunts and groans. You pull up tighter around him, squeezing his cock, nearly driving him to collapse over your back when he feels it happen and what is easily his hardest, neediest and wrecked groan tears out and spreads over your limbs with the rumbling breath he takes after.

“Jaaack,” you whisper, his movements heavily weighing on you, your body resting just at the precipice of something overwhelming, “So… full..”

“I’m gonna fuck my cum into that sweet cunt.” Jack fists the blanket with his supporting hand and the next time he rams his hips forward, a full-bodied scream fills the air, and once more, you squeeze him tighter as you cum hard around his cock, your nails starting to dig into his wrist as he fucks you through it. 

“Baby doll, you’re too fuckin’ good to me— squeeze me so fuckin’ tight when you cum, keep it comin’—”

“Oh god, oh god, oh god— fuck!”  You can’t stop gushing around him as his thrusts lose rhythm, as he focuses more on the sounds you’re making and the grip you have on his cock and it just won’t end, tears beginning to form in your eyes while the movements never cease.

“That is just heavenly,” he says with a strained laugh, “shit, you really did need me, huh? You want my cum inside you too? Want to be spoiled?”

“Yes!” you cry, miraculously raising your ass just a little against his cock as the orgasm finally calms, a growl and a bite on your shoulder at your ceaseless will to beg.

“Take it.” One final, gorgeous moan from his throat and he buries himself, a wet warmth painting your walls, his chest deflating as he settles around your back and rubs your thigh in a soft contrast to what was his stinging swats minutes before. He blows and pants to recuperate, and as he brings himself out, you feel the warmth spreading and dripping down to your clit. For a moment, you share the breaths you’re both trying to catch, but the sensation of his cum sliding over your skin is yet another obstacle to returning to a manageable state of being.

“This…” he whispers, taking his hand back, leaning on his other elbow to support himself as he slides his fingers under your skirt to lead them to your swollen cunt, “is my favourite, darlin’.” He spreads his cum over your folds, milky liquid sliding wherever he traces, and you push back on your knees to raise yourself for him while he guides it back inside you, your throat tired but still whimpering as he pushes his fingers in.

“Keep me inside,” he murmurs on your temple, urging you to lay back down over the plushy blanket, and as you relax, mussed and twinkling by the fire, he drapes the poncho over your body, tucking the fabric under your sides. He strokes your cheek with the dry hand, lifting your head to his lap as he carefully sits by you, your eyes delicately fluttering closed. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, and without opening your eyes, you shake your head no. Jack makes a purring sound, considering the moans his actions pulled out of you, and he begins to stroke your face some more. “Hope I never do,” he adds softly, studying your peaceful expression under the firelight and stars, “you’re soft.”

The last two words make you blink and smile up at him, finally granting him a peek which he returns with curved lips, and you know that “soft” doesn’t mean “weak” when he says it.

“I got an idea of where to take you next, if you think you can handle it...”

-

tags for yeehonk idiot:

@filthybookworm @frannyzooey​ @javier-pena​ @javierpcna​ @astroboots​ @userdindja @pedros-mustache​ @princessxkenobi​ @trashcora​ @writerdee1701​ @thelemongeneration​ @libraryofrecs​ @fan-of-encouragement​ @herb-welch​ @writeforfandoms​ @queenofthecloudss​ @leannawithacapitala​ @the-feckless-wonder​ @kesskirata​ @fuck-goes-on​ @lawfulgranola​@apascalrascal @prismaticpizza​ @xemmaloveskillianx​ @littlemissoblivious​ @quica-quica-quica @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @little-big-mac2​ @recklesswit​ ​@frankie-catfish-morales

let me know whether you’d like to be added or removed! 

[gummygowon]

cute relationship things with ateez!

genre: fluff (a lot)

warnings: none :)

established relationship!

a/n: i meant to post this like two weeks ago but i never finished it so consider this an early valentine’s day gift <3 ;) 

seonghwa:

for some reason, i feel like seonghwa likes to read books

with that being said, on lazy days where you guys didn’t want to get up and do anything

you guys would read books !!!

before you guys would read some were recommendations from each other on your own

and then maybe rant to each other over little details about the book like how the main character went back to their toxic ex or how the ending of a book was so bad

“seonghwa, how did you even read this?!? the stupid ass main character keeps going back to that one jerk! like does she not realize she deserves more than his ugly ass???!!!?”

“y/n, just keep reading.” 

“but hwa-”

turns out the main character got with the other woman yayyyyy!!! fuck shitty men

i don’t know how it happened but you guys started your own little book club with each other

so you guys could finally talk rant together at the same time about the book

so since you guys started to read the same book and if you guys found down time together you would read together

like, imagine it’s a peaceful friday night

seonghwa is back from work and so are you

you guys already showered and ate dinner

you’re just reading and then seonghwa just scoops you up and then puts you in between his legs with your back against his chest

and you’re like “wtf bro?”

and he’s just like, “what? i wanna read too???”

“didn’t you like read ahead tho??”

“yeah, but i wanna read it again.”

that was a fatass lie

he just wanted to be close to you 

hongjoong:

ok so, we all know that this man is hella busy all the time

mans is the leader, song writer, producer, dancer, rapper (which is why he is good at all positions)

but you were patient with him and whenever he goes days without seeing you due to his busy ass schedule he would make it up to you yk what i mean

but on the more chill days when you saw hongjoong or even the days where he was cooped in his studio (you would visit him there because sometimes you just had to see him)

you guys would just lay on the couch, just enjoying each other’s presence and not feel like you have to make up for lost time

you would be on the bottom on your phone or reading a magazine/book

then hongjoong would be at the top with his head on your stomach as he would be writing down lyrics that came to mind

killing two birds with one stone you feel me

sometimes you would show him a funny meme that you found or quote something that you just read to him 

“hongjoong, look at the way he fell!” you would be dying of laughter

and then he wouldn’t notice because he was really roped into making lyrics 

but you also didn’t see him focusing so much because you were of course laughing at the kid that accidentally got bitchslapped off the couch because of their sibling

“joongie look!!!”

“what is it?”

you would then show him what happened and then he would look at with that “you really interrupted me for this??” type of look

“i just lost my train of thought for this song because you wanted to show me this kid falling off of a couch???” 

“yes?” 

he would just bring a hand to his face and think what tf? why tf? and then slowly start laughing because of what just happened

“see, wasn’t it funny?”

“a child getting hurt isn’t funny, y/n” he would laugh while scolding you

yunho:

yunho powers im sorry for this one

alright so, it’s night time 

you guys are about to go to bed after a long day or work/school whatever

your eyes are fluttering closed because the day got you beat beat

but then yunho just kisses your face

and then you open your eyes slowly again to see yunho look like he just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do

like imagine a kid that just got caught drawing on the walls

that’s what his face would look like

he’s just laying there like “i thought you were asleep...”

“i was just about to...”

yunho feels lowkey guilty now because you’re awake now and he knows you had a long day

he just couldn’t resist kissing you 

you just looked so pretty and peaceful sleeping 

mans was reminded by the universe themself about how lucky he was being able to date you

like, godamn what did he do in his past life to deserve you?

ok, back to this reaction idea thing-

yunho would apologize for waking you up with his cheeks a nice rosy color

you just look at him with tired eyes 

“i’ll forgive you, if you give me more kisses.”

and yunho’s smile just lights up the whole damn room and he’s like oh? say less

so he goes to kissing your face

like all over

your nose

your cheeks

forehead

basically anywhere ok?

and you end up laughing because it tickles 

but you just want him to kiss your lips which he does 

... eventually lmao

but when he does your still laughing which causes him to laugh

he tells you “i love you, did you know that?”

and you get all flustered and shit but you still keep that playful energy around 

“i love you too, but you aren’t forgiven just yet”

which leads to more kisses :))))

yeosang:

ok so you’re now the busy one

yeosang has so much respect for you because holy shit how do you balance that busy ass schedule of yours

your homework loads were no jokes 

then to add to that you have a job which was even more stressful

it was amazing how you can manage all that and still keep a smile on your face

you also had major respect for yeosang as an idol

the industry was not a place to fuck around 

you couldn’t be happier that your boyfriend was lucky enough to have a group who actually cared and supported each other

speaking of ateez, yeosang isn’t the most touchy person in the world

you didn’t mind of course, you’re the same way

however, when he did give you cuddles and kisses you would be a blushing mess

a sort of rare sight that yeosang loved to see

anyways, one night you were busy writing those argumentative essays that you were sure that your fingers would fall off by the time you were finished

you were working on it ever since you got home from school (with the occasional food and bathroom breaks )to the time when yeosang came back from practice

you moved to your shared bed by the time the sweaty boy came home and he was surprised that you were working on one subject for so long

the stupid piece was almost finished by the time yeosang was out of the shower

however, you didn’t even notice

you were too immersed in your writing to notice

yeosang took this as an opportunity to sit behind you and wrap his arms around your waist and watch over your shoulder as you worked

and of course, he would kiss your cheek occasionally

this was super sweet gesture but yeosang but you didn’t the notice that he wrapped his arms around you

“ai yah! what the hell?” you yelled and turned around to see your boyfriend clutching his chest

“oh it’s just you.”

yeosang would give you a deadpanned look and be like, “yeah, who else tf???”

you would apologize and kissing his cheek before returning to back to work 

which yeosang would return to hugging your waist and keep his head on your shoulder

and give you occasional kisses on your cheek or neck

after that night, it became a weekly occurrence

which you loved of course, who wouldn’t love their bf cuddling them while they chased their bag

san:

i am very excited for this one

ok so, san loves playing with your hair

it’s just so much fun 

running his fingers through it or just attempting to braid it or put it into a tiny ponytail

he loved it

he would probably always play with your while you were watching tv together, sitting together in the car, or even before you guys fall asleep

then one day after san came home early from work 

you guys were chilling on the bed watching the latest k-drama that came out since san made you wait so you guys could watch it together

san was in between your legs with his back leaning against your chest 

and that’s when you decided to run your fingers through his soft, fluffy hair

that’s also when san asked you to braid his hair

“sure, what type of braid though?”

“there’s different kinds????” 

“yes, san. now pick one.” you gave him your phone that was pulled up to different types braids.

“i want the french ones. they sound fancy.”

you roll your eyes and start sectioning his hair into two sections and start braiding his hair and lightly pull on the pink strands because you know san likes his hair pulled

so you doing his hair right 

and you begin rambling about your day/week

talking about whatever interesting happened to you because you know that san likes hearing you talk no matter what it’s about

however, you were knee deep into talking about the latest drama at work that you didn’t even realize that san stopped talking

“san?”

he didn’t answer and his head would be dipping down so low you were surprised you didn’t fall over

“baby?”

san still wouldn’t respond to you 

but this time he just flipped over so his head would be on your stomach as he wrapped your arms around your stomach

“mmmmmmm?”

“nevermind love, just sleep.” 

he would respond by burying his head further into your stomach and tightened his hold around you

you kissed his head and ran your fingers through his hair which lulled san to sleep even more

“goodnight sannie.”

mingi:

you have been best friends with song mingi ever since you moved into the tiny neighborhood that you call home

it all started when your parents brought you over to your next door neighbor’s house for breakfast on a cold saturday morning 

you were extremely shy when you were little so the only thing you could remember about your first experience with mingi was hiding behind your mother’s leg for the first hour of being there and watching the young boy play with his toy cars and planes before he finally offered a pirate ship to you

ever since that unforgettable saturday, you pretty much spent the rest of your childhood with mingi

you guys were practically joined at the hip 

even when you were getting endlessly teased by your classmates for the first month of school for having an accent whenever you spoke 

which resulted in you running to the bathroom crying

not even a minute later, you heard someone burst through the girls’ bathrrom

“y/n?”

you peaked your head out of the stall to see your tall neighbor looking out of breath

“mingi, you aren’t supposed to be here!” you said in between sobs

“it’s okay, i don’t care.” he said as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around you. “are you okay?”

you shook your head no looking at him with tears running down your face

the poor boy was internally freaking out since he has no clue on how to comfort people (especially if they’re a girl)

he was like eight at the time give him a little break

so of course, his first reaction was to make you laugh somehow

and he did this by randomly recreating the “boots and cats, boots and cats” rhythm after seeing siri do it in a youtube video and started to bop his head 

surprised by his sudden movements, you laughed out of pure confusion

as soon as mingi saw the corner of your lips flip upwards he began rapping faster to the point where he was gasping for breath leading him into a coughing fit 

“mingi you can breathe, y’know!” you giggled in between words

after the young boy had caught his breath from hacking away at his lungs, he smiled at you 

until- the teacher had came into the bathroom, scolding mingi for going into the girls’ restroom

even though mingi didn’t care at all that he got in trouble, the only thing he cared about was that you were feeling better

ever since then whenever you were sad or having a bad day mingi would whip out his phone and ask siri to rap while he free-styled over the monotone voice 

he literally still does it

even two years into your relationship-

“siri, can you rap for me?” mingi would ask his phone as he pointed his free arm at you

“boots and cats-”

“mingi, please no.” you laughed in between tears, your mood rising with every beat

wooyoung:

i wholeheartedly believe that wooyoung would kiss you face if you were sad

but the first time this happened, you guys were still fairly new into your relationship

which meant that you weren’t completely ready to be extremely vulnerable around wooyoung 

because in your mind, letting someone see you at your lowest lows of means that you really trust and love someone to let them see you like that

you always wanted to be known as the strong person in the friend group

you were that glue that held everyone together

always listening to others and taking care of others before yourself

which is why wooyoung fell in love with you in the first place

he had never been in a relationship where someone was so caring and thoughtful of others that he was scared that he wouldn’t be enough for you and that you deserved better

of course, he didn’t tell you that right away but he confessed to you about that wayyy later in your relationship which is another story to be told

but one day, life was coming at you so fucking fast

assignments were piling up left and right and deadlines were literally every other day

and then there seemed to be an increase in the amount of angry karens at your work

and your patience was thinning everyday with those people

then to top it all off, all the tests you’ve been studying for, you got mediocre grades, some even worse in other subjects

it just felt like no matter how much work you put into whatever you do, you got half ass results

it was just pushing your mental health further into the ground

you could handle a C every once in awhile but multiple? on back to back tests? no fucking way you just couldn’t

those stupid, dark thoughts would cloud your mind in an instant and on days like this, you would just let them consume you

you were too tired to pick yourself up again and fight back which led to you crying in wooyoung’s arms

usually, you would feel so embarrassed crying over things like this when you know other people have it worse but you couldn’t hold in it anymore 

you ranted about yourself in between your hiccups from crying which would hurt wooyoung’s heart a little bit

because he thought of you as such a strong and kind person- the complete opposite of what you were saying about yourself

so when you were done talking, wooyoung made you look at him and assured you that you were not any of those nasty things that you said about yourself

each insult turned into a thoughtful compliment accompanied by a kiss

“y/n, you are so intelligent-” 

kiss

“caring-”

kiss

“beautiful-”

kiss

“more than everything i ever wanted”

kiss

by the time wooyoung was done, you were a giggling mess

“and this is why i love you.”

he finally kissed you on your lips, smiling into it like the dork he is

it was the first ever time he told you that he loved you

jongho:

i am also a firm believer that jongho would sing his s/o to sleep

like with that heavenly voice of his, he better put them to sleep 

so on the first night you ever slept with jongho, you were too nervous to go to bed even though your body was screaming at you to close your eyes 

you kept tossing and turning every few minutes or your eyes would shoot open with your heart racing

at this point, you gave up on trying to sleep and got up (carefully to not wake up your sleeping boyfriend) to get a drink

while you were in the kitchen, clutching your chest in an effort to get yourself to calm down, jongho had stirred awake to an empty bed

a flash of panic surged through his body as he momentarily forgot where he was since he wasn’t at his dorm his room never looked this clean 

yawning, the vocalist would wander into the light with his eyes squinted, “y/n?”

“oh my god!” you jumped, water almost spilling out your glass

jongho covered his ears, “what are you doing up?”

“oh,” you felt your cheeks turn red since you felt bad for waking your boyfriend up. “i can’t sleep.”

“why?” he asked, walking towards the couch.

“i don’t know.” you answered as you followed close behind. 

you curled up next to jongho, clutching his shirt “i’m sorry for waking you up.”

jongho smiled tiredly at you before kissing your head, “don’t be. it’s okay. i don’t have work tomorrow anyways.”

you smiled in response before the two of you guys fell into a silence

“do you want me to sing you to sleep?”

“yes, please.” you murmured into his side as jongho placed his other arm around you, successfully trapping you in between his arms

he began singing softly into your ear as he stroked your hair

his warm voice coaxing your eyes to close 

at last, your mind was at peace with itself

your heart beat slowing down

and by the time the song was finished you were fast asleep in arms

jongho kissed your forehead once more 

“i love you.”

[sinisterlyhan]

02. kim seungmin /  9435 words

female reader, virgin reader and virgin seungmin, oral (f & mreceiving), unprotected sex (this one is by choice, have safe sex everyone!), making out, fingering, angst with fluff

tw: light mentions of insecurities

a/n: hello, i am back after my sudden mini-hiatus to ruin everyone’s day! i have not written smut in a while, so i hope this piece isn’t too bad. also, the first part of this piece was originally posted on my sfw account so if you find something that is the exact same, that is also me.

you have always gotten emotional over seungmin leaving. even if it was just for a one-week christmas break with his friends, or a two-week music camp field trip with his choir group, or a two-month summer vacation with his family—you have gotten emotional over him leaving one way or another.

not dramatically, of course. it wasn’t like you were spilling waterfalls of tears and throwing temper tantrums over not being able to see or hold him for seven days straight; if that was the case, seungmin knew for a fact that he would not be able to handle it, especially since those absent days happen every single year.

you just get a little naggy, caringly naggy, like you’ve got amnesia every five minutes and you would keep reminding him to take care of himself, or make sure to have a good time, or think about you when he is away.

and seungmin does. he always does. whether it is at night on the soft hotel bed or walking down a loud foreign street, he makes space for you in his head and he shows that he has been thinking about you by sending you pictures and getting you souvenirs.

sometimes he becomes the annoying one because he keeps spamming you with pictures. you still remember playfully threatening to block his number after he sent you a frame by frame set of pictures, where you saw the entire process of jeongin tripping on jisung’s fallen body (because he tripped on thin air first) and falling to the ground.

it was a good blackmail material. you could pinpoint exactly the moment where jeongin realized he would be making friends with the brick ground, his eyes wide in alert and his arms flailing out in a poor attempt to grasp the air for support. when the boys came back from music camp that year, you made sure to give jeongin a big smooch on the head, which he begrudgingly accepted.

you have always gotten emotional over seungmin leaving. but not this time, not in a sense that you didn’t feel anything about his departure, it was just that… you were different this time.

you were ecstatic the first moment you heard that seungmin, along with his friends, passed theit idol audition and would get the chance to train under a prestigious entertainment. it has always been his dream to sing for people, you had been beyond proud of him to achieve the spot. it was until he broke it to you that he would have to move to seoul to pursue his opportunity when the realization finally dawned upon your silly, silly head.

he has to leave. he wasn’t breaking up with you, no, but he has to leave. for however many years it would take for him to qualify for debuting, and after that, there would be years of the dating ban, and then there would also be tight schedules and long distances.

seungmin was only leaving the city, but it felt like he was leaving you.

you left him to his own devices after that, stalling and wasting all the times you could have spent with him to make the remaining days count. you spared no playful nagging and no playful reminders, just unread texts and missed calls.

it was too much for you, you feared too much of the uncertainty—what if you couldn’t be patient enough for him? what if he couldn’t resist another’s seduction for you? what if the both of you couldn’t fight against time, the time that would pick and pinch at your affection for each other until there is nothing left to share?

seungmin zipped up his luggage just as the door to his bedroom knocked. he barely glanced behind his shoulder to look at it, his back arched in pure exhaustion at how his heart had been spiraling depressively for the past week. it was his last night in his home, his last night in his home city, that alone was enough to make him feel anxious and homesick.

but nothing had prepared him for how disastrously affected his heart would be when he realized he might have to leave without seeing you, without touching you, and without hearing that you love him once more.

the impatient knock came again and he finally stood up, his brows furrowed in annoyance. he moved over to his door, ready to tell his mother for the fifth time this night that he would not be changing his mind and he did remember to bring enough clothes, but when he swung open the door, it was you who stood before him instead.

“hey…” you said, clutching your jacket tightly.

he opened his mouth but only air slipped out. you looked as tired as he did, and he could tell you have cried yourself to sleep for the past days. as much as he wanted to immediately wrap you in his arms, to feel you against him, he found himself stepping aside and giving you space into his room first.

his room was as dim as it usually was during night time, when seungmin has the habit of turning off the main light on the ceiling and instead, flipping on the warmer light on the wall. it was a cloud-shaped light; seungmin hated it until you decided to decorate it with cartoon stickers during a sleepover. he has never looked at it the same way again.

the first thing you saw was the luggage on the floor, packed and ready to be sent away. your heart dropped slightly at its indication, then you quickly picked yourself back up. you have talked to yourself about this, you have thought about this and decided you wanted to support his dreams instead of dwelling in your misery until the sadness replaced itself with guilt and missed chances.

“you–you packed,” you said, gesturing towards the luggage on the floor before you turned around to face him.

“yeah.“ seungmin nodded. “i leave tomorrow morning.”

you hummed in defeated acknowledgment. the tension was more longing than awkward, the air waiting for one of you to break out of restraint first. turning to look at his opened closet, you raised a brow at the empty hangers lining up to the side of the closet before you finally caught sight of three colorful hoodies hung at the farthest corner.

you laughed meekly as you pointed at it, hiding the sobs in your throat. “you–you idiot! you forgot to pack your favorite hoodies.”

seungmin looked over, his fingers fiddling together nervously as his mouth hung open in a poor attempt to explain why he had left those there. his mind fired quickly and the first thing he did was only to state the obvious. “i am going to leave them here.”

you frowned at him, your lips curling down and your cheeks bulging out at the pressure. 

seungmin softened at your incredulously curious eyes, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he waited for you to speak. “but why? you should at least take the blue one, you look so good in it and it’s your absolute favorite one.”

he licked his lower lip, a faint smile blossoming on his face. he stared at you, blinking gently. “it’s your favorite one. they’re your favorite hoodies too.”

you sucked in a rapid breath, understanding his intentions. he left those there for you, a token of your relationship, a token of his love. it was a way to tell you that he, until the last minute, still thought about you; a way that didn’t require the use of cheesy text messages or well thought out confessions, which he was never very good at anyway.

just three colorful hoodies in his empty closet, all of them covered in his warmth and his scent.

you bit your lower lip to hold down a sob as you walked over to the closet. it was much less messy than usual, which felt out of place for you. being able to see the shoe boxes stacked at the back of the closet was unfamiliar, they were usually covered by his shirts and sweaters, occasionally seeing the light of day when seungmin pushes the clothes to the side or you steal one of his shirts again.

peeling the light blue hoodies off the hanger, you carefully threw it over your head and marveled at the way that even though its fabric went loose around your torso, you felt fulfilled and warm wearing it. bringing your sweater paws up to your cheeks, you inhaled the sleeves and closed your eyes at the smell of flowery detergent mixed with seungmin’s familiar fragrance.

it was a match made in heaven; it was a smell you could recognize even if you were rid of most of your senses because for so long, it was what home smelt like to you, and it still is what home smells like to you.

would you forget, after years of separating from him? would you still remember it but somehow he stopped feeling like home anymore? would your heart lose him to time and distance?

seungmin sighed with the shattering of his heart when he heard you choke out a sob. you had begun to cry, your tears staining the hoodie sleeve as you wailed your fears and longings away, and he wasn’t very sure what to do. he was never good at handling criers because he wasn’t one, and neither were you before this happened.

“(name)…” he took a step forward but stopped when you turned around.

“i’m so sorry for ignoring you these weeks,” you said, your voice teary and timid, but loud and strong enough to make seungmin’s heart pound against his chest. “i’m sorry if i made you think i don’t support you and your dreams. i need you to know that i do and if you have to leave this place to go after it, you should.”

to be honest, the idea that you didn’t support him has never crossed his mind. he knew you would, for some reason. you had always been there for choir shows, you listened to him talk about all the musical things he did during camp despite not understand instrumental talk, you never failed to praise him for his incredible vocal talent—you had always been the first in line when it comes to him and singing.

you were upset, he understood, that he had to leave you here and he only gave you a two weeks notice that he would be leaving for years, plus the uncertainty that your relationship may never work out as smoothly as it could when he was still an unknown high school boy with big dreams.

he couldn’t get mad at you for avoiding him until the last minute. 

for one, he understood why. he supposed he would be pretty disheartened if you did the same thing as well. for two, he just couldn’t bring himself to get mad at you at a time like this, when he needed his last memories of you to be nothing but loving and heartfelt.

heaving a sigh, he got on the bed and scooted to the middle where he sat with his feet dangling off the edge. he opened his arms and beckoned you over softly. “come here, my love.”

you did, stumbling closer to him until your thigh met with his feet. he leaned in to hold your hands, giving your arms a few childish swings before he pulled you on his lap, helping you position yourself by circling his arms around your waist and preventing you from falling off his thighs.

you sniffed when he kissed your cheeks, giggling in feign disgust when he grimaced with a complaint about your tears having a salty taste, and you burst into another fit of feathery laughter when he went to smooch your cheeks again just to mend the dry trail of waterfalls down your skin.

“i missed you so much,” you muttered, your voice almost giving away as you cupped his jaw in your hands and stared into his heart-shaped eyes.

“i missed you too,” he mumbled under his breath, bringing you closer to him unconsciously. “i am so sorry for making you cry.”

you hummed in disagreement as you lightly shook your head. your fingers pressed against his cheeks, clinging to them and hugging his face carefully in a way seungmin never wanted you to let go. your accepting smile made him fall, again and again, and he had to hold himself down so he wouldn’t kiss you right then and there.

“i’m sorry for wasting all these times, we could have been this close every night,” you said quietly, trailing over his features with your teary eyes. “i hope i am not too late.”

seungmin smiled, his eyes squinting with a crinkle of his nose. you can never be too late for him, his heart is ready for you at any moment of his remaining life, whether it is thinking about you quietly or having you pressed near his body.

seungmin will always be ready for you, all that you will give him and all that he is ready to give you.

“it’s never too late to kiss me,” he whispered close to your lips, feeling your back squirm under the weight of his words.

rolling your eyes at his words, you squeezed his cheeks before gladly leaning in so you could press your lips against his. his fingers gingerly clawed at your lower back as he other hand flew up to hold your wrist, any attempt just to touch your bare skin.

god, your lips. your soft, soft lips, made out of sugar and spice. he could play a thousand strings and sing a thousand words about them; about how kissing you always make him feel so needed and loved, how it makes him feel like there is nothing else he can do better aside from giving you every ounce of strength he has.

it opens a gate to his heart he didn’t even know he had, one only you can open because you are the key.

with the influence of his excited heart, seungmin suddenly started to graze your lip with his teeth, his brows furrowing passionately when he caught your lower lip between them.

you let out a breathy moan, surprised. but you only had too little time to dwell in the shock before you opened your mouth and allowed seungmin to do whatever he wanted.

adrenaline rushed up to your lungs, causing a ruckus beneath your bones as your mind chased itself into chaos. he has never kissed you with such urgency before, with silent pleads pierced in the tip of his tongue and desperate longing tattooed in the way he moved against you. he was kissing you to make you breathless, to make your burn with revelation.

seungmin kissed you intending to linger, so the shape and the taste of his lips will haunt you every day and night when he is away. and damn, it was so good, you were drenched in blissful abandon to let him take full control over you.

amidst this heated moment, seungmin forced himself to pull away for a brief moment to allow his hazy mind to settle down. both of you were adrift somewhere in paradise and both of you had no plans of returning any time sooner.

you kept yourself close to him, your upper lip positioned tenderly against his, taunting him to resist, daring him to let go once more. your eyes were as gone as seungmin’s were when you stared into them, and you inwardly worshipped the way his inky black eyes, devoured in thunderstorms and fallen ashes, could pull you to him so effortlessly.

“i love you, okay?” he declared breathlessly, but his tone was filled to the brim with sincerity. “i love you, three or ten years from now.”

three or ten years from now, whether he only gets to talk to you every weekend or every three months, whether it would be easy to find the right time to catch up with each other or if the process would make him want to pull his hair out—seungmin loves you, and he will wait until he can love you.

“wait for me, please,” he pleaded then, the ocean in his eyes seemed brighter and ready to spill, causing heartache in your chest. he was clutching the hoodie and pressing your hand to his cheek, his shaky movements only calming down at your warmth.

wait for me. seungmin was asking. wait for me, remember me, hold on to me.

you felt like crying again. the volcanic sadness stays no matter how many times you convince yourself things would turn out fine, that you could live without him being near you eventually.

you could deal with the quiet, you could deal with not anticipating his presence when you leave home, you could deal with the untouched skin and unkissed lips. yes, you could, you have to.

“i will, i promise” you replied in a hush, lowering your head. “i’m going to miss you so much.”

seungmin pressed his thumb to your eye carefully, swiping across the wet corners and making you chuckle as you leaned against his palm, looking up at him again.

“i will text you all the time. if i don’t, my friends will,” he grumbled with a scoff, remember how bitter he felt when it took jeongin no amount of effort to get your phone number back then while he had to stall a whole week before mustering up the courage to do so. “we will keep in touch, we all will.”

“you guys better,” you said threateningly, kind of threateningly, making him smile.

and he kissed you again, much softer this time. it was to seal a sacred vow one would find harder to break than any else’s, an oath shared by two teenagers who are so genuinely, so tenderly, and so tragically in love with each other.

“how early are you leaving tomorrow?” you asked after pulling away, adjusting your legs so instead of sitting in a kneeling posture, they wrapped around his lower back, making it much more comfortable for you and giving you two more space to be closer to each other.

“hmm, since we have to take the bus to the train station and we are meeting up at the bus stop around the school before going there together…” he calculated in his head, a pout forming on his lips due to the concentration. “i think i’ll have to leave around seven in the morning.”

that was earlier than you thought. but either way, you never planned to see him off anyway. turning into a crying mess in public early in the morning would not be a plan; if you could, you would rather let him leave just as things are—a soft goodbye to your sleeping form, and maybe you will sob on his bed for a while after you wake up.

“i am not going to the train station with you,” you said, running your hands through his hair before circling your arms around his neck into a hug. you sighed. “so it is just going to be tonight.”

“okay.” seungmin flashed you a faint smile, a bittersweet but endearing one. his pinky gently tucked at a piece of your hair, his fingers brushing back against your temple and falling to your ear. “do you need anything from me before I go?”

“you should be the one getting something from me. i never gave you a congratulatory gift for getting through your audition,” you said with a laugh, tapping his nose with your index finger and pressing your chest up against his for a needed closeness. “i am very proud of you, seungmin.”

he gave you a peck. “thank you.”

and you two just looked at each other. affectionately drawn towards the other like how north sticks to south. you couldn’t help but whisper a loving confession, brushing his hair as the words “i love you” left your lips like a secret only seungmin gets to hear.

“i love you too,” he returned immediately, his eyes shutting for a brief moment to allow the rush of euphoria. then they flutter open so he could look at you and ask, “are you sure you don’t want anything from me?”

you thought for a moment, your brows furrowing in thoughts. there were not many things you wanted to ask from him, most of those you do were out of his ability to accomplish, such as not leaving you here.

“call me when you get there,” you reminded him.

“of course,” he hummed. “what else?”

you sighed, keeping your eyes on him as it hit you that there really wasn’t anything else you needed from him. you just needed him, and you had him the moment you stepped into his room, so you figured you should get the most and the best out of it.

seungmin could see where your eyes were and believe it or not, he was totally on the same page. it was not the type of nights he wanted to spend with words. there were only senses and feelings that he wanted to have threaded through his veins this night, be it loud or quiet, tender or rough, or perhaps both of each opposite.

you leaned in, your eyes moving up from his lips to look into the windows of his brilliant soul. “stay with me,” you breathed into his mouth, “until you leave me.”

seungmin wasted no time to claim your lips once more, rough exhales fanning against your face as he desperately kissed you to fulfill the insatiable desire he held for you. he could feel it in his guts—the cunning and greedy burn beneath his ribs that held so much he wanted to say to you, that the words of his inadequate language were unable to express enough, were threatening to explode from the brisk of his skin. 

in all that the world could offer, languages of all places and phrases of all great minds, the only word he knew were you, you, you. and he wasn’t even able to speak it. all he could show you of how he called out to you was through his action; the tug of his hands at your waist and the bite of his teeth at your lower lip.

you squeezed his shoulders, your eyes closing upon the familiar taste of his mouth on your tongue when he boldly slipped past your gently parted lips. the softness that once graced seungmin’s being was long gone. he was hasty now, needy and desperate for all of you, and all you could do was comply with him. 

your chest heaved with a low moan when he bit your lip again, his hand pressing you down against his abdomen. your body relaxed against his with a shiver, yet your thighs squished at his sides upon the ever-growing arousal under your waist when you felt him, vividly, against you.

“min–“ you pulled away, looking into his eyes with all vulnerability you have ever left hanging at the lashes of your eyes. you looked at him, your hands running up the side of his face and spreading within his hair, and your shaky gaze scanned his entire face as if your patience was running thin. 

he beat you to begging for the intimacy, his face leaning close toward yours just to feel the bone of your nose nudging against his own. there was something about his utter lack of ability to be away from you at this moment. 

he was not physically attached to you, but there was nothing else he wanted more of the world than to be so. he would do anything; he would tear down hell and break through heaven, he would destroy the sun and shoot down the stars if it meant to keep you beautifully by his side. 

he needed to be attached to you, the love of his life. 

“i need you,” he whispered, “please.” 

his breath was demanding, but also teasing in a way that he wanted to make this comfortable and loving for you, as opposed to the upsetting farewell you two were having.

you shivered, your half-lidded eyes staring at each shadow that cast over his face in his dim room. your hands dropped from his hair, causing a faint look of disappointment in his eyes, but that was gone as quickly as it came when he realized that you were reaching for the hem of his blue hoodie. 

you tugged at the soft fabric, making sure you brought your shirt along with it when you slowly slid them up your body and finally over your head.

the first thing his eyes gravitated toward was your chest, covered by a random bra you threw on because you did not anticipate the visit to turn out like this. he watched with an itchy hand and an unbreathable throat when your hand reached behind your back to unhook your bra. you slid it off your shoulders, showing him your breasts, and you tried to hide your shyness by looking away as you discarded your bra somewhere on the floor. 

seungmin’s eyes were glued to your chest, he wasn’t even trying to hide it. you almost wanted to laugh at the hanging of his jaw and the way he was blatantly staring at your close to naked chest, but you kept the amusement to yourself and went ahead to cup the side of his face, bringing his attention back to your face.

you smiled, but then you pursed your lips and begun to shrink into yourself when you realized this was the most naked you’ve ever been with a boy before. not to mention how unconfident you have always been with the way your body looked. the way his eyes were glued to your chest was starting to become a look of judgment rather than an action out of surprise and fondness. 

his eyes widened when you suddenly squealed, your head lowering and your forehead bumping against his shoulder. he laughed a little, his hands moving to your wrists before he gently pushed you away from you. you were frowning slightly, your brows furrowed with an uncertain pout on your face, and you refused to look at him until he tipped your chin up with your hand. 

he wasn’t too sure why you were acting this way, but what he did know was that this was your first time, as well as his. sex is a foreign subject. that kind of intimacy is drastically different than holding hands, or cuddling, or making out, or even having late-night philosophical talks until you fall asleep on the phone. 

both of you were feeling chilled to the bones with both anticipation and nervousness about how things could go, and both of you probably wanted everything to feel good and perfect.

so if you were hiding from him because you changed your mind, then he’d want you to know you could back out. he could deal with what happened in his pants by himself later.

“you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said, poking your nose, “we can just watch a movie, or we can talk until we fall asleep if you want.”

the pout on your face faded slightly upon his words; a kind offer, but one you didn’t need. you flashed him a deadpan smile, your hands moving to clamp atop of his shoulders again as you spoke, “it’s not that. i do want to do this with you, i don’t think there is anybody else in the world i’d want to do this with! it’s just… my… my boobs…”

his eyes drifted down at them and he looked back up at you. “they’re great.”

“they are.” you were doubtful. 

“they’re boobs, babe. any boobs are great–“

“seungmin.”

“okay, okay!” he nodded with a fit of a giggle, then he moved in to kiss your lips. his hands moved to roam your sides, brushing tenderly across your skin and creating a trail of goosebumps on his way. he kept kissing you as he spoke, a kiss every other word he let out. “they are great. your body, i love it because it’s yours, and i can’t believe i’m allowed to touch you like this right now.”

you blushed with a heat rushing up your cheeks, burning hotly under his words and the way he kept kissing you. how sweet and cheesy, but you didn’t mind it much. you were too drowned in being adored by him to care about criticizing anything he says or does, you just wanted this moment to keep going so you could finally plunge into the real act. 

keeping your hands at the nape of his neck, you moved your lips with his for a second longer before you moved away, making him whine with a low hum.

his hands stayed at your side as if they were afraid, and you were getting impatient. panting, your voice was raspy when you said, “you can touch me more.”

seungmin raised his brows at the permission. his heart sped up at the thought of going beyond your waist and your back. he was thinking about it, but each time he felt the side of his palm brush against the soft skin under your breasts, he flinched away with timidity simultaneously as he grew needier for your body. 

he couldn’t let himself just touch you, he supposed, it would be such a bold thing to do. he felt like if he ever did, he would have to find a way to preserve the feeling, and he was very unprepared for that.

“seungmin…” you called out in a feminine voice when he didn’t respond, one that sounded so needy it would surely get him riled up. your hands moved to grab his, bringing them up your body until they almost met at your breasts. “touch me.”

a tease, what a tease. it was only your first time and you were being a tease, looking so divine and perfect on top of his lap you tested his composure and his control over his patience. 

he exhaled.

you asked for it.

seungmin took you by complete surprise when he moved. hoisting you off his lap, you felt yourself dip sideways before your back met the soft cover of his bed. he hovered over you, his body stuck between your spread legs, and his hands squeezed your waist to set you in place before he reached down to capture your lips again. you followed his lead, feeling his hand roam across your stomach before they finally moved up to your breasts. 

a breath got caught in your throat when he cupped his hands over the roundness. he fondled them, squeezing and pressing his palm against them just to feel your hardened nipples against him. he hummed out in satisfaction when you trembled under his touch, unfamiliar but pleasing, and he let go of your mouth to hear your noises while he moved down your jaw and your neck to leave trails of love marks on your skin as a goodbye gift.

you tilted your head to the side so he has more space to plant his bruises. you could feel his teeth graze you, and he was sucking on your skin so hard you felt pressure within the spot. it was forcing you to make friends with the reality and the level of intimacy you two were venturing into. 

he was on top of you, kissing you, dropping crosses on your body, fondling your breasts, and his hips occasionally grinding at your bottom so he could temporarily press down the impulsivity inside his pants. 

this was the reality; you two were about to become whole, you want you both to become whole.

seungmin moved away in the heat of the moment, his hands hastily reaching to pull his shirt off his body as well before he dove back to your collarbones and went down, his lips worshipping the veins and bones hidden under your skin. he took your breast in his mouth, sucking on your nipple and flicking the bud with his tongue. you arched your back at the sensation, so foreign yet exciting that you couldn’t help but push down on his head with the same hand that once carded gently through his hair, wanting more and more of him.

he was never going to leave you, though. his lips stayed attached to your body, kissing you down and everywhere he could reach, his tongue darting out the lick wet spots on your delicacy. it was until he reached the hem of your shorts when he paused—this was the place. he eyed up at you, catching the weak and pleading look in your eyes once, then he gingerly moved his fingers to unbutton and unzip your shorts. he carefully slid it off your hips, his fingers tugging against your panties on the way until you were completely naked under him.

the last of your clothes dropped to the ground without a care. seungmin was glued to the glistening sight of your exposed heat. your curled your fists, nervous about what he was thinking as he stared at you. your legs felt shaky as you thought of whether you wanted to close your knees or not, and before you could make a decision for yourself, seungmin already stumbled forward on his knees and brought himself to the edge of his bed.

he grabbed your ankles, his grip soft as he brought your legs over his shoulders with a nod of his head. you let him guide you through the ordeal—resting your ankles on his shoulders and pulling you forward to him. he curled his hands around your thighs when you were close enough.

you flinched, a quick and shivering flinch, when you felt his lips against your cunt. your knees almost smashed his head if he hadn’t tightened his grip on your thighs to keep you from moving. your eyes stayed wide open, staring dizzily at the ceiling, as seungmin continued to do experimental kisses against your wet pussy. one, two, three, four, before he decided it was time for him to dart his tongue out. 

he flicked against your clit, miraculously finding it on his first try and staying there when he saw your positive reaction. he abused it, licking and sucking on the bundle of nerves until your bud was protruding and  even a little painful from all the stimulation. but he didn’t let himself stop there. the lovely and filthy noises you were letting out, paired with the call of his name over and over again, was too much of a blessing for him to let up. 

he continued with his pleasuring, grazing his teeth against your skin as he sucked on you, his fingers making an entrance by slowly sliding himself inside your warm cunt. he didn’t want to do too much so he paid attention to your reaction. it was an ego boost each time you arch your back and moan his name. he has never been better than this.

your legs trembled on his shoulders, having never felt such sudden jolts before and your senses were not familiar with receiving such pleasure. your lips were parted to let out huffs of little whimpers and moans as you relish in the feeling of his touch—a brand-new feeling of joy seungmin was graciously gifting you that was unlike all the others. 

you were being touched, you felt touched, and he was willing to do so even when you weren’t sure if you deserved it. such simple ways to make you happy; all he needed was himself, and the lovingness in all of his movements done to your sensitive body. 

“fuck–seungmin, seungmin!” 

you tried to find words to say in the midst of the pumping of his fingers. your walls were clenching down on the intrusion, coating his fingers with your slickness until it became a slip-and-slide to go in and out of you. you were wet, oh so very wet, and it was all his doing. he could taste your arousal on his tongue and he kept wanting more, so he moved quicker with his hand as if he could fuck more juices out of you with it. your legs bent, hitting his shoulder blades, and you moved your hand down to his head where you tugged at his hair.

“seungmin! you–i’m going to–“ you whimpered out, seeing fading stars in your eyes, “please fuck me, fuck me first!”

he stopped, the manic look in his eyes fading at your words. pulling his fingers out of you, the stickiness not bothering him, he stood up and moved onto the bed and left you cold with an approaching orgasm that would soon fade. he wasn’t much thinking about that—he was still thinking about that, but there was something else he needed to make sure first: did you ask him to stop because you wanted to cum with him inside you? did you want to orgasm from him fucking you with his cock? was that what you wanted, that’s why you made him stop?

oh, but the thought alone… the thought of you orgasming because of him, the thought of you reaching that  ultimate pleasure because of him. it would surely be an honor to behold.

he leaned down to your face, his eyes genuine and also somewhat worried as looked at you. taking his clean hand, he brushed the hair out of your sweaty forehead and kissed your eyes. “what do you want?”

you exhaled, your hands awkward so they settled against his warm chest. looking up at him with round and wide eyes, you asked politely, “can you fuck me, seungmin?”

“i was,” he hummed, his other hand casually reaching back down to your heat. 

the confidence came when he realized his ability to please you, and he decided he could set his needs aside and toy with you for some reactions he would savor in his head for the rest of his life. he pressed the tip of his fingers against your hole, dipping in but not letting your feel full by inserting. 

he played with you, watching as you squirm with a needy expression when he wouldn’t give you what you want, feeling as you bucked your hips up for his hand and asked for him to touch you, and finally when you exhaled in relief as he finally moved his fingers inside your pussy.

“i was fucking you, (name), with my mouth,” he said. “i am fucking you right now.”

oh, but it wasn’t his tongue and his fingers that you wanted the most. he knew that. you knew he knew that as well. he was good with them, it was heavenly a moment ago when he was kneeling on the floor, but nothing could beat the excitement in your chest that was waiting for when he finally stretches you out and officially takes your virginity by colliding his body with yours. you wanted it, both the pain and the pleasure that would follow. 

you wanted to be around seungmin and make him feel good as well, and most importantly, you wanted your first orgasm to be when you were near him, the love of your life. you wanted to cum feeling him inside you.

“i want your–“ you shut your mouth in defeat, looking at him with a pout as if that would soften him up. 

seungmin smiled at your adorableness, but he as he dragged the back of his finger down your face, his other hand still pumping in and out of your cunt but his pace has since slowed down, all he asked was, “you want my what?”

“you’re pushing it,” you mumbled as you gave him a deadpan look, “i even acted cute for you.”

pulling out of your heat, he grinned with a roll of his eyes. then he shook his shoulders as if throwing a tantrum, his lips puckering slightly as he playfully hit his fist against your chest. “just say it once! i want to hear you say it!”

“seungmin, i’m shy!” you complained, shoving him lightly.

“you weren’t so shy when you were moaning like a minute ago!” 

“seungmin!”

“just ask me, just say you want my dick and i’ll give it to you, i promise,” he said, knowing well he would have given it to you regardless of you asking or not.

you huffed, the corner of your lips quirking downward as you glared at him before you mumbled, “i want your cock.”

“what?”

“i want your cock, seungmin,” you pleaded louder this time, looking impatient and annoyed with your furrowed brows and the stuttering movement of your shoulders.

“good girl.” he smiled and pinched your cheek. “see? that wasn’t so hard.”

you took your time with grumbling a complaint about his action. but, however you wanted to see it, he did make you feel more at ease with having sex for the first time. the playful way he talked to you just a minute ago made it feel as if this was just any ordinary activity, and there was nothing you needed to be afraid of. it was just you and him together, and he would take care of you like he always has. you would be fine with him. 

the thought diminished for a quick second, though, when you saw that he has taken off his pants and boxers. your opened your mouth, your eyes couldn’t help but stare at his hardened shaft, and all you could do the next second was turn away with an uncontrolled laugh bubbling out your throat. 

seungmin looked up slightly at the noise, trying to recognize it, and when he realized you were laughing, he immediately snapped his head to you with a look of utter disbelief.

“are you laughing?” he asked, accusingly if you listened carefully.

you shook your head, your hand failing to cover up the giggles of your throat. “no, i’m not–not specifically at you, i swear!”

he moved over to you, his elbows supporting his upper body as he grabbed your face and made you look at him. he squished your cheeks together as you continued to laugh, your eyes turning intensely into little moons when you saw the hilarious look on his face. he looked you then, the sight of your lips quirking up into such a bright smile was something he took a mental image of. and your giggles trailed into his ears, hammering against the empty space in his head looking for a permanent home. he let the sound of you in with only a single knock. 

seungmin softened, allowing him a smile as well. looking at you now, feeling you warm and safe against him now, almost made him want to abandon his dream and just stay here with you forever. how could he leave you—his girl, his favorite person, his best friend. he wanted to be with you all the time. 

but he somehow knew you wouldn’t agree to that, you would push him to chase after his goal, so he will. he will miss this when he leaves. the sound of your laughter, the way he could make you snort and scream and make the prettiest and ugliest expressions. 

he will miss everything about you during every waking second of his days without you near him, but even time would fail to take him away from you because he would love you through every second of it until he could see you again.

pressing his forehead against yours, he giggled with you. “what are you laughing at, (name)?”

“nothing! i promise!” you replied loudly, then you settled down with a quiet hum in your chest. you reached up for his hands, smiling at him. “i love you.”

“i love you as well,” he said, moving his nose against yours as his voice came out in a fearsome whisper, “please say you want me again.”

your eyes relaxed into a scratch of affection. they moved across his face, taking him in, soaking his feature in you, and you kissed his mouth to speak it into him, “i want you, kim seungmin.”

it was a risk when he pushed himself inside you, raw and bare, but it was a risk you thought you ought to take at this age, and a risk you knew you wouldn’t have regretted taking. he went in slow, his lips moving across your face to soothe out the pained creases while you clutched his arm tightly upon the burn of the stretch. he was bigger than you thought, it felt different, bigger, than when you looked at it. 

he kissed you when he moved, hoping to get you to adjust to his size and to get himself more acquainted with the warmth of your walls around him. you didn’t mind the slowness of his thrusts, they were soft and undemanding, they were solid and memorable. you could feel every inch of him sliding within, the slickness of your walls helping him move easier amongst the tightness. your bodies collided again and again with hot exhales fanning against your faces as both of you tried not to go crazy for the feeling of each other. 

seungmin kept his hands moving around your body. the map he could never forget; he would always come back to this place in his memories, in the dead of the night when he felt alone. the juncture between your bones, your delicate skin, and your warmth that covered his entirety so perfectly as you sucked him into your body, taking him so well he thought there was no place else he could be. 

he only moved faster upon your request. he rutted against you, trying so hard not to get lost in the euphoric sensation that he would begin snapping his hips against yours at a pace that could bring him to the edge even quicker. he needed to relish at this moment where the sensuality happens, and he wanted to feel all of you here alone. but while knowing he wouldn’t go faster, he did want to go deeper into you.

he kissed your lips, swallowing your moans, as he gently hiked your leg up to his back until it rested near his shoulder. he gave you a sharp pound and you let out a choked noise at the heart-pounding feeling it gave you. he inhaled, moving his cock harsh against it and pushing toward that inner part of your cunt again to get another immediate reaction out of you. 

your eyes rolled up this time, your jaw dropping with a loud whine that you thought his parents would have heard in their bedroom, but you were unable to bring yourself to think at all, you just wanted more.

seungmin smiled. that was the spot. that was the spot he was looking for. 

“is that okay?” he huffed out, thrusting into you, “did you like that?”

“ah–yes, seungmin,” you breathed out, your back arching as the same spot got hit over and over again, waves and waves of pleasure lapping at your veins. you nodded, your hands clutching his arms with whines falling alive at your lips. “fuck, that feels really good.”

he smiled at your approval, feeling the tension at his back relax upon knowing that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. you were enjoying him as much as he was enjoying you. the reciprocation was delightful to acknowledge, especially in a moment as such where he wanted to leave an impression for you to remember by later if you so needed to. he knew he would because thinking about being so close to you would soon be the only escapism he has. 

the gentle yet filthy words he had begun whispering into your ears made you feel all tingly and edged. his words praised you, his words worshipped every move you made and every surface of your being, his words loved you as much as his body was loving you. 

they made you shiver by embracing your little soul, unraveling you slowly by breaking down the walls of your assumed unworthiness, and they did not dump you to the ground to repair yourself. 

seungmin was here, the whole time, for you to reach out to.

he is always ready for you. even with the distance and limits that you were so very afraid of, he will always be ready for you.

sucking in a deep, teary breath, one that paired with a light whimper as you felt your high approaching with each thrust, you reached up for your boyfriend. you circled your arms around his neck, bringing him down to you so you could kiss him fervently. your leg fell off without his support but they clung over his waist to bring him closer with tightening of your muscles. 

seungmin’s hands laid flat to the side of your head upon your beckoning, caging you under him as he slotted his mouth longingly against yours, his brows furrowing at the passionate kiss.

“you’re my heart, min,” you confessed softly against his eyes, “i love you.”

he could feel the tears in your eyes but they weren’t falling just yet. he hoped they wouldn’t fall, he wouldn’t know what else he could do aside from kissing those tears away until he has to leave you tomorrow morning. giving you a nod, he rubbed the side of your face with his thumb and smiled endearingly down at your face. “wait for me, okay?”

wait for him, and he will dream, always, about your eyes when you laugh, the way you shove him when he tells a lame joke, and the mediocre food you cook for him during weekend hangouts. he will dream  about coming back to your side, about holding and kissing you again, about the intimacy he has carefully shifted into a precious spot of his head. 

wait for him to come home so he could make all the dreams come true again.

you nodded hastily, partly because your walls had started to clench on his shaft impossibly upon the tightening of your abdomen. getting closer, seungmin snapped his hips against yours, trying to bring you over the edge and push you down for the ultimate rapture. he looked—stared—at you when your peak approached, a rush of warmth coating his skin as you came around his hard cock, burying him in a blissfully hot place. 

your eyes rolled skyward, and he could feel your fingers tightening around his neck, your nails digging into his skin upon the overwhelming pleasure.

he moved, holding your hands through your orgasm, fucking the intensity out slowly and settling you down. he watched as you breathed, waiting for your panting to come to a halt before he picked up his speed again so he could find his own climax. you held him close to you, feeling him hard inside you and giving out light moans upon the feeling of strange friction against your walls. 

you could tell when he was getting close, considering his movement become even more stuttered and erratic when he was about to lose himself in you.

he knew better than to cum in you, though. before he could reach his high, he pulled out of you and moved away slightly, his hand going down to pump at his length instead. you blinked—right, you forgot, you two did not use protection. the whiny sounds coming out of seungmin’s mouth helped you come back to your senses and you quickly sat up. 

you replaced his hand with yours, an amused gleam evident in your eyes when he stared at you with confusion while being pushed down on the bed by your hand.

you leaned your body down, pumping him to keep him aroused while you found a comfortable position to lay on, and without a second thought, you took him in your mouth. he hissed in surprise, his thighs flexing at the lukewarm sensation of your mouth around his cock, as well as the gentle suction of your inner-cheeks. he pressed his head against the pillow, his mouth hung ajar with whimsical huffs as he buried his hand on your hair, needing something to grab onto as you sucked him off.

the way his cock disappears into your mouth, his tip poking at your cheek with each bob of your head, and how you choked around him when his tip hit the back of your throat was a bliss all too intense for him to handle at once. what was he to do—he knew he could not hold on much longer. 

he has never felt his way before, his own hand was inadequate to provide the satisfaction you were giving him. the licks of your tongue, the graze of your teeth, the wrap of your lips; nothing could compare to this, he was drowning in abandonment and this was no false heaven.

his hip bucked into your mouth when he emptied himself in it, a loud groan leaving his lips. you let out a strangled noise of surprise when the bitter taste hit your throat, your eyes widening in dismay but you made yourself take all of him. you sucked all the way back up to his tip, your lips popping off with an audible noise, then you reached up to wipe away the saliva away. you panted, his cum slowly dripping down your throat, and you smiled at him when he looked at you.

“that was…” he licked his lower lip for a second, then he decided against talking and instead raised his arms to beckon you closer to him. “come here.”

you moved over to him, your body slumping down next to his as he brought you into his arms. your lips locked for the millionth times tonight, unable to get enough of each other when each time there was a new taste to the kiss you shared. 

“that was my first time,” you commented after pulling away, laying your head on his arm.

“so was mine,” he said, even though you knew.

you sighed then, a blissful sigh. “i’m glad it was with you.”

“so am i,” he whispered against your temple, and when he felt that you wanted to make a joke out of his words, he held you tighter against him and he scoffed. “you know what i mean.”

you giggled, “i do… i just want to make fun of you while i still can.”

“i can’t believe i am about to say this but,” he paused for dramatic effect, “you can make fun of me whenever you want to.”

“you’re right!” you exclaimed, turning on your side so you could look at him. “after you debut, if i catch you doing anything embarrassing on variety shows, i hope you know i will never let you live it down.”

“hey, that’s not fair,” he whined. “one of the main elements in variety shows is to embarrass their guest.”

“yeah, that’s why they can be so unfunny sometimes,” you muttered.

he laughed along with you. that was all he could do; talk about the future as if it wouldn’t be painful, talk about it in light-hearted ways until you could surely let it go.

he caressed your cheek with his thumb, his eyes unable to leave your face. “i’ll come back to you. i don’t know how long you will have to wait, but i promise i’ll find the time.”

“text me a lot?” you asked. he nodded. 

“and call me, it doesn’t have to be face time but call me,” you asked. he nodded.

“don’t fall in love with other people,” you asked.

“i won’t,” he answered this time.

and there was nothing more you needed from him. 

you sighed, snuggling closer to his warm body so you could breathe with your head on his chest. even though you might wake up finding yourself alone in his room and your head on a pillow, the hollowness stronger than ever, you still moved closer to him. falling asleep to his heartbeat was worth waking up to his ghost.

“then just stay with me now.”

stay with me until you leave me.

seungmin can do that.