#but they have so much stuff like shower chairs

[patron-saints]

fma rareship weekend: day 1, nonsexual intimacy

written for @fma-rareships's day 1! this fic is olivier x izumi and takes place just slightly after the events of recognition (but you can read it alone!)

~~~

“you’ll laugh.”

“i won’t laugh.”

“you’ll want to laugh. you won’t, but i’ll see the amusement in your eyes anyway.”

“i won’t laugh. not even with my eyes.”

olivier sighs. the dream of taking a bath with izumi is one she’s held for a long time. when she’d been sick, olivier had washed her many times, but always from outside the bath, always clothed. and generally she’d preferred it that way. but sometimes it had taken all of her self-restraint not to just hop in.

two things have always stopped her. the first was a terrifying set of early briggs memories. being one of the few girls and the only out trans person, any kind of personal hygenine was a deeply private matter, no matter how much bonding her fellow greens seemed to get from showering all at the same time. the second was just…connected to her stoneness. that if she shared a bath with a partner, maybe… well. she looks at her fiancée. “perhaps… i would need to keep a pair of swim trunks on.”

izumi doesn’t laugh. she doesn’t even, to her credit, look the slightest bit amused. “did you bring a pair?”

olivier nods. izumi keeps saying they’re going to take a day trip out to the lake on one of these visits, but they’ve never done it. she brings swim attire anyway though, just in case.

“well!” izumi says, and that settles that.

izumi strips before olivier can even offer to help her with her clothes, and she doesn’t hide the fact that she’s brazenly watching olivier, either. that’s fine, she’s allowed to do that. they are engaged, after all. but olivier’s still flattered.

izumi parades down the hall, but olivier throws a towel around herself first, walking behind and shaking her head with a smile. both sig and alex are at alex’s tonight, so they have the place to themselves. it’s nice, and it makes her feel a bit safer about trying something new.

the tub is already full when olivier follows her into the bathroom. she’s not sure if izumi filled it ahead of time or pulled the world’s fastest alchemical trick in the few seconds before olivier walked in, but either way, it’s full, it’s soapy, and when she dips her fingers in, it’s warm.

the curtises have an absolutely massive tub. they get in together, slowly, negotiating space until olivier has her back against the wall of the tub, and izumi is facing her, looking like she wants to turn around.

olivier beckons her over, and she does turn, scooting so her back is pressed against olivier’s chest and she can stretch her legs forward a little.

and then olivier melts.

it’s the heat, it’s izumi, it’s the contact, it’s the trust, and all of a sudden she’s just. the happiest she’s been since izumi proposed to her, really.

she sighs, and presses a kiss into the side of izumi’s neck.

izumi hums. her hands search for olivier’s in the water and olivier grants them to her.

“you know,” izumi says, “i wore my bathing suit for seven months after.”

she doesn’t have to say after what. she never does.

olivier doesn’t answer, she just squeezes her hand.

“it took a long time to heal.”

olivier can only imagine what the massive scar running across her abdomen must have looked like originally, and how looking at it must have been a reminder of everything that had happened, everything she had done.

“and then i didn’t want to see it, even after it had…”

olivier knows that izumi hates talking about it. about anything to do with it. she’s doing it for her, to explain why she didn’t blink when olivier asked to be clothed. she doesn’t have to do that, but as she does, the warmth in olivier’s heart spills over. she pulls izumi even closer to her chest and kisses her shoulders, her neck, anywhere she can reach.

olivier has no proof but she knows izumi’s smiling.

“this is just to say i—“ she gasps a little at a particularly well placed kiss. “understand.”

olivier hums in acknowledgment, kisses her one more time, and then leans back, letting izumi lean back further against her. “thank you.”

[twilightarcade]

to do list for my eyes Only

[actual-corpse]

I'm so excited to move out....

I can't sleep😫

[milo-is-rambling]

Day whatever it is recap!

[catgirlwizard]

I used to laugh at that one 'get me a girlfriend so i can deactivate my tumblr' post but then i got a crush on this guy and literally made a tiktok account just to watch videos he sent me and i started using twitter and instagram more cause he didn't know what tumblr was and I wanted to get him to look at hot selfies i posted and trick him into falling in love with me (which worked btw, not the trickery part just the falling in love bit). And that was about a year ago and we've been dating about 9 months now and i haven't even updated my tumblr bio since i was 23 (i just turned 25) and i didn't even know there was a tumblr live function and im so out of touch with this site jdkfghdsf. its so weird not being as active on here when I was addicted to posting here 24/7 as a teenager. and its mostly because the time i used to spend on here is now dedicated to hanging out with him and being an adult with responsibilities and having hot transgender gay sex :') and like. laundry and cooking and taxes and stuff. idk. can a tumblrboygirl and a former teen tiktok star really fall in love? apparently, yes they can <3

[mynameisbillandimaheadcase]

.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil

synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all

FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES

length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)

contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)

notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3

the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.

“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”

“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”

“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”

“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”

you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.

“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”

“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”

“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”

“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.

well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.

“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”

“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”

“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”

“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”

he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”

“we didn’t get this room.”

oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.

“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”

“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.

the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.

“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”

“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”

his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.

“no, absolutely not—”

“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.

god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.

it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.

and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.

“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”

“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”

you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss. 

“satoru—”

“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer. 

so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.

“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length. 

“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”

“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.

“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod. 

“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips. 

“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”

“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”

“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”

his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better. 

“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.

“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly. 

so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby. 

satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”

“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. 

“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”

“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”

“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”

that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose. 

they just always want more.

there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma. 

the way the world works. 

the way you and satoru work. 

so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base. 

“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”

that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants. 

you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.

“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”

“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”

“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”

“satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”

“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”

“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”

that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”

“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.” 

he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear. 

“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”

“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”

“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”

you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him. 

“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind. 

“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”

you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face. 

his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!

“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”

“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”

you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.

“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.

the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity. 

it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.

“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”

“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”

“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”

“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”

“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”

you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.

i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach

[taegularities]

colour me in: palette | jjk (m)

Summary: Breezy mountaintops and turquoise oceans are even more enchanting with Jungkook by your side. Yet, throughout your vacation, you realise — even once you've left the lofty peaks and liberating waves behind, you'll still elevate each other to new heights every day.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; tiny hints of angst, crazy much fluff, smut ➳ warnings: okayyy. a shit ton of fluff. vacation with their friends!!!, kissing, singing, sexual tension, slippery soccer lolll, bit of acrophobia, someone flirts with oc, bit of jealousy, lots of taeun and yoonmin moments, new dynamics!!!, mountains and beaches, jimin/jk moments :'), deep talks, some insecurities, bunk beeeeds lol, mention of homophobia, small arguments, anger, talk about passing of time; explicit sexual content: hotel room sex :O, light spanking/ass stuff, kissing and making out, teasing, neck kisses!!, jk never gets enough, bit of manhandling, pussy slapping, big dick!jk, soft dom!jk, oc is soaked, they're both wearing their shirts/naked downstairs tho (impatience sigh), oral (f. & m. receiving), bit of mouthfucking, soft and rough sex, mention of sex toys, slapping with his dick ig, masturbation, spit, edging?, choking, he likes her bewbs and a$$, squirting, they ruin the hotel room bed lol, showering together; the ending 🥺 ➳ word count: 32.6k ➳ a/n: gosh, it's been mooonths. did y'all miss them as much as i did :') the distance really brought me closer to them. some more of my soul in this chapter <3 there'll be angst ahead, so enjoy this one thoroughly and with all your heart. thank you for all the support, too <3 i can't wait to hear what you guys think 🤍 ➳ listen to: can't help falling in love by haley reinhart (alt. version) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

DAY 1

“Bunk beds… Fu. Cking. Bunk. Beds.”

Jimin scarcely seems impressed with the change in plans that the hostel is forcing your group into. You haven’t quite yet deciphered what’s going on; you’ve been waiting in the lobby with pursed lips and tired eyes, Jimin at the front desk, discussing details that he’s now groaning about.

“Wait… what?” Eun asks, eyes scanning the group members, all equally confused.

Jimin, as agitated as you haven’t seen him in a while, plumps into one of the lobby’s upholstered sofa chairs, massaging his forehead, seemingly preparing to narrate a tale without a happy ending. He sighs, raising his hand as if to teach calculation to a child, and starts explaining.

“We’d booked three rooms, right? But one of them has a leak.” Short pause; Taehyung clicks his tongue. “So now they offered to keep one with the queen size bed and then get another room with two bunk beds. We’d pay less. Or. We keep the other two rooms with the beds, and still pay for the bunk bed room since one couple will still need it.”

“Same price?” Yoongi inquires, aside from Jungkook, the calmest in the room.

“Oh my god,” Eun whispers, matching Jimin’s drama-loving freak, “this is… we’re being robbed.”

“So,” Yoongi tries again, a deep voice interrupting your best friends’ growing hysteria, “we just pay less and get the bunk bed room for four people, no?”

Eun and Jimin stare at the man as if he’s uttered sheer nonsense; Eun’s eyes squint, questioning how he’d dare separate her from her boyfriend. And Jimin, his expression equal to Eun’s, directs the disbelief between his eyebrows directly at his lover speaking.

But as the options start to waver, Eun sighs, leaning back in defeat as she mumbles, “I guess…”

“Yeah, and then, who’s getting the queen sized bed?” you ask carefully, likely initiating another feud; but what else can you do? You need to resolve the issue on hand and you’re dog tired; you need to nap for an hour at least. “How do we decide that?”

“That’s the question,” Jimin declares, rubbing his hands before he announces, “I think we’ll have to fight for it, folks.”

“…How?”

Multiple pairs of eyes drift to the ceiling in thought, attempting to come up with a fair idea or some game. But their schemes are probably too intricate, building scenarios that aren’t feasible in this very situation; you can already tell.

That is, until Taehyung speaks up, slapping his thigh as he finally answers, “We’ll just go the easiest way we know.”

The fact that Jungkook and Yoongi puff out a breath of air is understandable; as Kim Taehyung’s closest pals, they’re bound to know which thought lit up his brain. But by now, even you understand the man’s tactics well enough, and before you can verbalise them, Yoongi does.

“…Wait. You want to rock paper scissors this out?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“We just pull names? Or spin the wheel? There are plenty of sites on the Internet.”

“No,” Jimin again, “I don’t trust any of you to not manipulate this.”

Voices soon mingle, offended by Jimin’s distrust, retorts flying around such as, “Oh, thanks for this,” or “Why would we manipula—”

“Come on!” Jimin defends, cutting through the cacophony of arguments. “We’re all a bunch of newlyweds! Nobody wants to sleep without the other.”

Well… maybe he’s not wrong there. Over the last several weeks, you’ve grown accustomed to your boyfriend’s warmth next to you; under your head; beneath your palm. His breath against your cheeks and the chin in your mane.

Which is why you tilt your head in slight, approaching worry, leaning into Jungkook’s embrace, his arm over your shoulders. You look at him until he stares back, telling him as the others argue, “This is terrible. I just got used to sleeping with you and…”

But he shakes his head in reassurance, blinking slowly. Gently grabs your hand off his chest and intertwines your fingers, promising that, “It’s okay, babe. Whatever game they want to play, we’ve got this.”

If he says it, you must believe it. Losing would be counterproductive for this trip; you required this time-out with him for the sake of your sanity, considering the weight of the past months.

And thinking about it, you’ve gotten used to his presence too much to sleep without it. You reminisce about the nights he hit the gym late, barely finding time throughout the day as he worked on his exhibit pieces, permanent smudged hues colouring the sides of his hands.

And you, exhausted from work, grazed the other side of the bed with a half sleeping, half restless mind, waking up time and time again to find the mattress empty. Whenever he did come back, sliding into the sheets, you’d notice.

Notice everything.

How he’d kiss your forehead or your temple, whispering your name or a soft, “Hi, angel,” without really expecting a response back. He’d pull you half on top of his body, chest rising with your head atop as he sighed and then, eventually, drifted off.

You think that once or twice, you even heard him breathe a nearly inaudible confession, starting with your new favourite letter L.

But…

It seems that today, luck isn’t quite on your side; different from what he foretold, you haven’t got this. Because mere five minutes later, you’re staring into a group of shaking heads and devastated faces.

Jimin and Yoongi have lost already; and when it’s time to decide between the remaining of you four, it’s not you who breaks into cheerful laughter but the couple you’ve decided to regard with a pout for the rest of the trip.

Unnecessary to mention that Tae and Eun dash into their room once they’ve received the key, quick enough for their suitcases to collide with their soles as they roll behind them. The two remaining duos, among them a sighing Jungkook and a disappointed you, trudge to the bunk bed room without any rush.

Jimin and you sulk your way through the hallways, but Yoongi and Jungkook, you soon notice, remain familiarly posed. You don’t get it; aren’t they upset about the separation?

Your boyfriend at least is still sporting an encouraging smile when you open the door to the frustratingly compact room. The two pairs of bunk beds have a sufficient distance between them, but the beds themselves barely fit a person. You’ve been played so bad.

“And what if we do take the second double room and let fate decide between us?” Jimin suddenly suggests, and you nearly buckle, ready to get into position and lift your fist for another game.

But Yoongi pushes between the two of you, clicking his tongue, “Nah. It’s just two nights, we’ll be moving on after that anyway. Besides,” he sets his suitcase against the left bunk bed, claiming it, and ruffles through his long, dark hair, “we can’t leave the last couple all alone here.”

You smirk in mock, tilting your head, “Ha-ha. You’re way too sure of victory. You wanna try right now, Min—”

“Come on,” Jungkook tries, two heavy hands settling on your shoulders before he moves them down and rubs your shoulders in affection, “solidarity, baby. It’ll be fun.” He moves in, close to your face, kisses your cheek and then whispers into your ear, “We’ll have our room at the beach. And then a whole week just for us, remember?”

Oh, as if you could forget.

Jungkook’s hometown will be the third and last stop of your vacation, a wedding and a childhood bedroom awaiting you. You can’t predict what those days in the countryside will bring, but you refuse to think about them; not because you’re reluctant to go, but because you want the place to surprise you.

Nevermind that the thoughts still seep through all the time; the pure elation.

Your face warms at the thought; you’ve communicated it a million times and will say it a billion times more — you don’t think you’ve ever been this pumped in your life.

No — do not think about it. Let it come to you… carpe diem and all that.

You jump back into the moment, right into the banter, placing your suitcase on the floor and opening it to rummage for today’s outfit. As you shamelessly lay open your entire wardrobe, including some of your best lingerie, you tease, “Okay. I’ll save up my energy. More tonight, boys.”

Jimin blows a raspberry at you; Yoongi waves you off with a grin; and Jungkook barely reacts to you. You assume he’s tired from all the driving, requiring rest more than you, eyes half-lidded.

But if you were in his head, you’d know that he’s long dissociated from the conversation, blending out words, movements, reactions; rather, he merely observes your smile. The playful crease between your eyebrows. The curve of your lips as you speak.

Blinking slowly; lucky for the force of nature wafting into his life like a brisk autumn wind.

Lucky, knowing that somebody could actually care so much.

The pullover doesn’t feel as soft and smooth between your fingertips as it looked from afar. You don’t think you’ll take it. But the beige cardigan felt like a shawl made of accumulated feathers against your body; and Jungkook approved of it, too.

You’re liking the village; maybe it’s the overall dreamy and magical vibe it emanates. It’s redolent of cosy nights spent in front of a fireplace, a hot tea cup warming your palms as you study the view out of a small window, the far-reaching blankets of snow.

And the scent of wooden houses and cinnamon travels through this place — you can’t describe it, but you urge to take all the earthy colours with you.

The pink dress, however, hugging your body like second skin, is bright, the opposite of the cardigan you’ve already settled on buying. It’s a fall dress, comfortable and adaptable to any situation.

You turn in front of the mirror, inspecting your ass, your curves, checking the length and the material for possible flaws. And once you’ve convinced yourself, you push the curtain aside, seeking a second opinion from the man patiently sitting in front of the changing room.

Upon seeing you, his eyes brighten the way they did the last couple of times. Even when he didn’t quite like the item you chose, he seemed happy to just see you. But this time, his pupils flit from button to top, the sparkle in them already obvious as he says, “Damn.”

“I take it you like it as much as I do.”

“Do one of your three sixty spins.”

He loves those. Enjoys it when you present yourself with that treacly smile of yours, arms angled and slightly in the air. And when you come to a stand again, the dress still sways, your eyes questioning, sweet, pure. Jungkook finds joy in this; he could look at you doing this all day.

You keep asking, “Are you bored? Wanna go somewhere else?”

And he always responds, “No. Show me another one of the dresses.”

But no matter how boundless his enthusiasm, he can’t control his occasionally occurring ticks — you know they’re a sign of a nervous mind, watching his fidgety self card through his hair or move his leg or cross and uncross his arms.

So you ask, “You okay?”

“Hm? Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m just tired,” he explains, “driving all day made me drowsy.”

Well, okay, that could be a reason. He does get restless when he craves his bed. Kudos to him for still enduring your slow ass at shopping. You hum before you remind him, “I told you to let me drive.”

“Yes, but…. I like driving,” he shrugs his shoulders, pouting a little, “and you were having fun.”

Honestly—

Fun is a way to call it. You pluck at the hem of the fall dress, recalling the morning with a fond but slightly guilty smile.

“Okay. Lean back now.”

The road was challenging, Jungkook’s voice too quiet to prevail over the music, and you too reckless. Despite the chaos, his grin was telling — though the crinkles and dimples disappeared when half your body turned towards the backseat; right when the car approached a sharp curve.

A harsh hand pushed your beaming self back into your seat, and he spat a single warning, “Angel!”

You’d separated the large group — Jimin was driving the other car, alternating with Taehyung. The journey wasn’t awfully long, but you still went the fair route and split your circle in three versus three, Yoongi residing in the back of your car.

Your car because you’d be driving on to the wedding anyway, and Yoongi would then proceed the vacation in Taehyung’s vehicle. But while your excitement for Jungkook’s hometown didn’t dim a single bit, you were a little sad that you’d be leaving earlier, not getting more time with Yoongi.

Because he vibed. With the right people, you heard, and now witnessed, he vibed.

He sang along with the music in confidence, flashing gummy smirks, DJ-ing with you. Sharing the same taste in music as you, the moments were never dull, 80s classics chiming before modern hip hop took their place. Yoongi likes J. Cole particularly.

The two of you were exhausting, but you did pamper the driver enough to not let your annoying self become too obvious. As in, feeding Jungkook snacks whenever you could, indulging in his favourite music when your tracks ended, offering to drive.

Jungkook remained in a good mood most of the way, but nearing the end, he got edgy, tired, even disregarding Yoongi’s sarcastic suggestion to drive wordlessly.

It took you a moment to understand — Yoongi isn’t a bad driver at all, as you’ve been told by himself, but he’s still not fully healed yet. None of you would make him and he wouldn’t risk it.

Mad respect to Jungkook for suffering through your shenanigans and then still being your anchor as the trouble about the rooms began at the hostel.

You’re a handful — but he has confessed a hundred times before that he’d rather have that than an empty palm.

“No wonder you’re tired,” you tell him, flattening the already crinkle-free dress before you add, “Poor Jimin and Yoongi. Were separated in the cars and now in the hostel, too.”

“I mean,” Jungkook starts, “they both seemed to have a good time on the way, though. Other than that, have they even made stuff official yet?”

Good question. Barely occurred to you yet. You think back to the last couple of weeks, to each of the weekend meetings that you’d summon everybody to in order to discuss the trip. Nothing was said then. Nothing has been said since this morning, either.

So you say, “Kind of by just being with each other the way they are, right? To be honest, I didn’t even think about it. For me, it was already official… didn’t think it’d need an announcement.”

“Maybe you’re right? It’s as much of a secret as we are.”

You break into a grin. “Right?” And then, you straighten your stance, once more turning to show off your ass, too, just for good measure. “What do you think?”

“Oh, you should buy it.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, it’d be good to look at and then fun to rip off.”

You roll your eyes so hard, they nearly disappear from his sight; partly to hide the effect his words practise on you — face hot, chest tight, legs crossed to ease the physical feeling that emerges.

And then, partly to remind him of where he’s sitting right now — not far from an elderly lady who’s currently side-eying you. Weird; just a minute ago she was smiling at you. Ah, decency.

“Ugh, can you only think about that?” you joke, right before wiggling a finger. “This one’s expensive. You’re not ripping off shit.”

“Hey, don’t scold me. You’re just as bad!”

“I’m not! In case you don’t remember, I totally resisted when you offered to come into the changing room with me.”

“Ah, ahhh,” he teases, cocking an eyebrow, “in case you don’t remember, only very reluctantly.” You can’t suppress the laugh, and he joins, familiar creases around his stellar eyes. “But seriously, you look gorgeous.”

“Right! I’ll wear it to your next exhibition, okay? Or the party you’ll definitely host once you’ve established yourself as the nation’s biggest artist.”

And that’s when he finally gets up, groaning a tiny bit before he slaps your ass and rubs it, delighted at your yelp. Challenges you, “Decide whether you want to be cute or sexy. I can’t handle both.”

“But you do every day,” you say, sulking. But your expression returns to normal when he pinches your butt, and you click your tongue, “Okay, okay. We’ll see what you can handle once we get to our next destination.”

Where you’ll finally have your own bedrooms. Your peace. Your mattress to be demolished.

Excited doesn’t do this feeling justice.

Jungkook must be thinking something similar; at least that’s what you ascertain from the way he tongues his inner cheek, shaking his head. You don’t provoke him further — only blow a kiss before you saunter back into the changing room.

You purchase the dress, stepping into the fall air, and move your head left and right in search of the rest of you. You ask, “Have you seen the others? I think we lost them at the souvenir shop, but they might be nearby.”

“Yeah, they went into another souvenir sho— wait, that’s Eun, isn’t it?”

You squint into the distance.

God, this place is like a Christmas market straight from 90s movies. Traditional and homely, domestic and gentle. Oozes some type of warmth that defeats the slightly chill breeze by miles.

And you’re so loving the shops. They’re small, their owners as hospitable as you haven’t met in ages. They talk to you, treat you like one of their own, never attempting awkward conversation and always providing their honest opinion. The lady you just bought the dress from even told you to visit again.

Shit, and the stalls! They’re popular spots; the backbone of the tourism in this area. Sell all kinds of snacks — candied fruits, hot drinks, gingerbread. October hasn’t ended yet, but you crave your golden Christmas lights.

Somewhere not too far, you finally recognise Eun and Yoongi, too, standing at the punch stall, ordering. Thinking about it, it’s been a while since you ate or drank — and just imagining the fruity flavour, you can’t help but suggest, “Ohhh, I should get some, too. Wanna come?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. Your suspicion from before somewhat returns; his thoughts don’t seem to align with yours right now. In fact, you guess them far away, pondering about anything but punch.

You’re moved to ask again, but before you can utter a word, he answers, “Hmm, no, I think I’ll get a coffee a bit later. I’ll go find Jimin and Taehyung in the meantime, though? You go get your punch.”

You blink at him, not sure if you should try again. But when you can’t find a reason for any deviation in mood, you give him the free space he might need, telling him, “Okay. You know where to find us if you need to.”

“Got it,” he says, leaning in to kiss your forehead, and then walks away when you do.

Just once more, you turn, gaping over your shoulder in confusion; but he seems okay. Occupied by the view, craning his neck to look at the mountain nearby, at the very peak you’ll reach tomorrow.

So you turn away, only for him to regard you a moment later.

Jungkook watches as you reach your friend, Eun’s arm cheerfully wrapping around your shoulders, welcoming you in. You give the stall owner a knockout smile, and once distracted enough, Jungkook directly charges for the shop the two of you walked past earlier.

It’s still mostly empty when he reaches it. One young man, much like him, is standing inside, discussing an object lying on the pult between him and the seller. Jungkook glances through the store window, spying the object of his desire, and then walks in.

Enduringly, he waits for the other man to finish. Seems he is a customer, too, buying his grandmother a gift for her birthday. And it looks like he’s more or less firm on his decision, because not even two minutes later, he has thanked the woman behind the counter and left.

Jungkook, equally determined, points to the purchase he’d like to make, making small-talk with the woman now and then before she disappears in a small room at the back and packs the object.

And Jungkook waits… waits calmly until a voice breathes a, “What you doing?” into his ears, scaring him to death. The woman leans back, peeking, alarmed as she asks in an accent, “Everything good?”

Jungkook waves her concerns off. Lets her work. Turns to Jimin as he says, “Goddamn, dude. Don’t do that.”

“You look like you saw a ghost. Are you hiding something?” he asks, right before the lady walks out and presents the pretty packaging and small bag to Jungkook. “Oh! Is this for me?”

Jungkook pays with a scoff, carefully placing it in his bag and then laughs, “C’mon.” And once the rucksack is back on his shoulders, he bids his goodbyes to the seller, leading Jimin outside and whispering as if you could hear, “Alright. It’s for her. I’ll give it to her at the wedding.”

“Damn, a little present for the date at a wedding? You’re down bad.”

“How did you guess that?” Jimin chuckles, patting Jungkook’s back as the younger one smirtles. Soon telling Jimin, “Not a word to her, though. Or anyone. Okay?”

“My lips are sealed.”

That’s it. At least for a while. Both pairs of hands pushing into their jeans’ pockets at once, they trek side by side in silence, head moving left, right, up and down. It’s awkward until it isn’t — until Jimin collects some courage and then spits, “Listen.”

Another pause. Just for a moment. Enough for Jungkook’s tremendous eyes to look up, a finger scratching his temple as he hears Jimin articulate words he never expected, “I know I said my piece that night already, but…” A grimace, kissing his lips, then, “I’m really sorry for doubting you so much at first. I should’ve given you a chance much sooner.”

Well, fuck. 

For weeks and months, Jimin refused to trust him with a steadfast resolution. Didn’t waver even when you attempted to convince him otherwise. There was a prickly dislike in the man’s eyes that irked Jungkook, and frankly, saddened him a little.

But the night you drunk-called him, begging to come back, minutes before he chauffeured all of you home, something shifted. Jimin’s stance towards Jungkook had seemed to change, at least. Actually a grateful occurrence to think back to, considering how much Jungkook fucked up at that time…

“But you have given me a chance now,” Jungkook defends, Jimin nodding, “and I appreciate that just as much.”

“You remember what I said to you back then?”

Of course… he might remember each detail of that night forever.

“Of course,” Jungkook echoes, “you said you were growing fond of me. Trusted me.”

“And I meant it.”

“She said you said it because you knew she was fond of me.”

Jimin chuckles, the sound high-pitched and pleasant, melodic. “Well, I guess that’s true to some extent. But it’s definitely not just that.” He reviews his thoughts; then, “It’s more so the fact that you came back.”

That he came back.

Jimin doesn’t mention that he came back because you called. Because somewhere within, he must know as well as the man beside him that Jungkook was going to come back anyway.

Nobody here doubts his feelings for you. And in some way, this is a reassurance of trust he didn’t think he needed.

“And in hindsight,” Jimin speaks on, “while I disagree with what you did before that,” a sting in Jungkook’s beating heart, “I think your reasons were selfless. Lack of communication here and there, but… you want her happy, right?”

There’s no debate about this.

“So much,” Jungkook immediately agrees, “it just doesn’t make sense, you know? That someone like her should be sad.”

“I agree. And you came back, that’s what it is. You’re here. I think I was fond of you because you gave her a sense of… safety.” He shrugs his shoulders, hands still buried in his pockets. Gives a glance to the variety of passersby. “Making her feel protected and like she was worth something when others didn’t. And in turn, you gave her something to fight for, too.”

Something to fight for… someone to fight for.

How hard is it to wrap your head around the fact that somebody thinks you worthy enough to combat the world for?

Jungkook’s heart stirs. A sudden affection for your friend awakens. No. His friend, too.

“You’re just half as bad, huh?” he says, urging another laugh out of Jimin.

“No, you.” More snicker. “But seriously. Since we were teenagers and she was first confronted with… all the issues around her, she’s repeated to me everybody has demons to fight. A couple weeks ago she said it again… added that you do, too. No details, no worries!”

He raises his hand in defence, and Jungkook shakes his concerns off, mumbling that it’s okay, that it’s true.

So Jimin continues, “But just… whenever you might feel like you’re not doing enough — because let’s be real, we all do sometimes — remember that you make at least one person happy.”

Crazy. This is crazy. An alternate reality, for sure.

“I never expected to hear this from you, but… I really am thankful, Jimin.”

Jimin nods before he stops, as if remembering something. “And if it helps. I’m really glad you joined us here. I mean you know Tae and Yoongi better, but Eun loves you.”

Jungkook titters, shy as Jimin nudges his arm, but silencing when he looks ahead, not early enough to stop Jimin’s addition, “And by the way, she’ll love that. Will feel like the bride, probably—”

Jungkook grits his teeth at the very last word, as if staggered by another ghost appearing in front. Jimin’s eyes follow Jungkook’s, eyes widening a couple inches as he realises his mistake; met with your bright gaze as you near the men with Eun and question, “What are you guys talking about?”

You’re so cheerful and curious, impossible to resist. Jimin’s lie nearly doesn’t come out, but when it does, it happens smoothly enough, “He was just gushing about your dress. Told me how he already knows you’ll be the talk of the night.”

“Come onnnn,” you urge, your smile falling, replaced by a scowl, “this is so weak. I know you, Park. That’s not what you were talking about.”

“It is!” Jungkook chimes in as shamelessly as he can. Guilt floods him — but there are certain sacrifices that are necessary for love, aren’t there? “I told you many times how hot you look in it. I did, you can’t contradict that.”

Jungkook’s acting might be getting better, but you still squint your eyes, still pulling a face. But it seems they are conspiring against you; Jungkook clearly sees you give up. Understand that you won’t get anything out of them.

Besides, you love surprises. You won’t ruin it for yourself.

So you wave the white flag, only saying, “I don’t really believe you, but okay,” before turning, gripping Jungkook’s hand and adding, “Listen. You don’t get to drink a good punch every day. Screw the coffee, try it for me. Yoongi is still there.”

And as the two of you walk away, Jimin follows, ignoring Eun’s curious look. Focuses on how Jungkook turns to him just a little, smiling in mischief but also in something like…

Friendship.

Jungkook has been babbling his mouth dry. You know of his temporary hyperfixations; alternating between cooking twice a day, karaoke-ing his way through a lazy weekend or playing Overwatch for four hours straight and of course, you.

Tonight, it’s gimbap.

You’ve heard a ton about it today; from his favourite kind to how it’s made to failures in his past as he first attempted them. Anecdotes and urges.

When you went to the restaurant earlier, he inhaled a gigantic portion of jjajangmyeon, followed by kimchi-bokkeumbap that he partly shared with your still hungry self. His idea was to order some gimbap as another course, but his grunts and groans revealed that he was done for the night.

Or so you thought.

Because hours and a trip to the old town and its popular fountain later, he’s still craving them, restless on the hostel lobby couch as he says, “Do they have room service or something? Do they sell gimbap?”

His attention is directed towards Jimin, the main organiser of your trip; everybody’s been posing questions today as if he’s studied the town and journey to the tiniest detail. Jimin rubs a palm over his tired eyes, sighing before he speaks.

“No, this isn’t a very luxurious place anyway,” he explains, “and besides. You’re making me hungry, too.”

Jungkook leans into him as he asks, “Aren’t you quite close with the receptionist?” Pause. “Do you think they’d let us take a couple things from the kitchen and make it ourselves?”

“Wow, you really are craving it,” Taehyung mocks, but Jungkook skillfully ignores him.

“Jungkook, this is a lot of special treatment to ask for,” Jimin then claims, waiting for a response, but nothing comes back.

You lean forwards when your friend shakes his head, trying to understand what’s going on. And when you find Jungkook’s big, twinkling eyes staring longingly, you know he’s gotten to Jimin, too. Because the latter sighs again, adding, “If you charm them, maybe.”

“Come on. I know how to charm people,” he says, regarding you with a wink, a flick of your chin and a click of his tongue, all at once. You whisper a playfully indignant Damn, watching him get to a stand.

He’s brave, you must say; for an initial and past introvert, good food certainly makes him courageous. Jimin first gestures towards the reception, mumbling a, “Go ahead,” but barely a second later, he’s on his feet with a deep exhale, hearing Jungkook say, “Decided to help me?”

“Only because I’m hungry, too. Can make them together.”

Whatever scenario you just witnessed, it could’ve been one from a sitcom. Those little filler scenes, there for comic relief. But what strikes you the most of all is the dynamic you just watched emerge.

You’re surprised to the core; these two, doing something together? Peacefully? Voluntarily?

As your eyes bolt from the duo to the hanging guitar at the wall and then to your friends, you let out a tiny laugh, delivering a short head tilt before you deduce, “That’s new.”

It’s quite a show, the one you observe from here. Your friends are already too groggy to converse, instead indulging in the scene: Jungkook and Jimin as they converse with the receptionist, leaning in, telling the young man about their day.

Then, the quiet plea, as sweetly uttered as possible; you know these two. You know they’re pulling out the biggest, brownest eyes the world shall ever see, the mellowest voices outing their plea — and to your utter surprise, the receptionist gives in.

Leads them to another room, probably the breakfast hall, and around five minutes later, they reemerge.

Your group giggles when they come out with a wink, Jungkook forming a tiny ‘Oh’ with his mouth, as if to whistle without ever doing it. They don’t come back to you yet; settle on another table at the back instead, hands full of ingredients. There’s more room there for sure.

They spread the stuff across the table, rolling up their sleeves. You can’t really hear their conversation from here, but Jungkook says something and Jimin smirks back with a slight shake of his shoulders. Then, they start, but not before choosing a playlist to play quietly as they attempt the gimbap journey.

You can’t believe it. What an odd sight — but good for them.

“That’s rare indeed,” Eun lets slip before she turns back to you and the group, falling back into the couch.

You nod, looking through the round. Different from the two across the room, the atmosphere here is dead. So you wait; wait for an opportunity until Yoongi, opposite from you, gives you one. His eyes roam the room, soon stopping at the guitar from before. He regards it entirely, like a piece in a museum.

You ask, “Hey. Do you play?”

“Hm?” Yoongi looks back at you, puppy eyes in full effect, and then switches between you and the instrument. “Ah. Yeah, I play sometimes.”

“He plays all the time,” Taehyung corrects.

Yoongi raises a hand in something like defence, humble as ever as he says, “I’ve been learning. But I think I have gotten better, though there’s still a long way to go.”

“Any song you enjoy playing the most?” you ask, leaning in.

“Ohh, you’ll like this.” His eyes are widening, waking, sobering up. As you see new stars being born in his dark eyes, you know you’ve introduced the right topic. “You like oldies, don’t you?”

“I do, actually! How do you know?”

Taehyung chimes in, “Jungkook told us. Like literal months ago.”

Perhaps it’s the new sentiments you’re still accommodating yourself to, but you feel the heat filling up your entire chest, moving up to your cheeks and providing warmth in the eye of this autumn.

You peek at your boyfriend and your friend, catching them falling into a goofy cooking session. Jimin grabs the dark soy sauce bottle, attempting to pour the liquid on his plate with the most dramatic expression you have ever witnessed, only to realise a moment later that he hasn’t even opened it yet.

Both of them break into an embarrassed and amused chuckle, Jimin shaking his head, and before you can melt into the leather couch, you look away with a smile.

“Wait,” you say, “in which context? I’m nosy, and now I want to know.”

“He said Yoongi would like you because your favourite song is… what was it again?”

Taehyung directs his gaze imploringly to Yoongi, but it’s Eun who answers fondly, “It’s Can’t Take My Eyes off You. Ever since… always.”

You cock an eyebrow at Yoongi, teasing, “So is it true? Do you like me then?”

“I adore you.”

Your face heats up more. “You didn’t tell me what you like playing the most.”

“I would say I enjoy…”

“Or wait. Don’t tell me. What if you played it?”

“Now hold on—”

Energised, you take a stand, throwing a look at the receptionist who locks eyes with you at just the right moment. You point to the guitar, and he lifts his hand to gesture, “Go ahead, please.”

You take the guitar off its hook, grazing over the smooth, wooden surface and skimming the strings for a tiny moment. Relishing the familiar feeling. And then, encouragingly, you hand it to the man of the hour, telling him, “I know you want to.”

Yoongi is uncaring and unapologetically him, but he’s just as shy when met with attention. Yet, you know him enough to understand he often does whatever somebody asks of him, so you’re barely surprised when he flashes a thin-lipped smile and agrees, “Yeah. Alright.”

He situates the guitar on his lap carefully, treating it like a newborn as he mutters at the same time, “What should I play? Maybe this?”

His fingers strum a few chords that you don’t recognise, tough ceasing when he starts working on tuning the guitar. It takes a moment; a time you spend in silence, watching Taehyung for a second as he props up his head, eyelids half closed.

You shrug your shoulders, telling Yoongi, “Whatever crosses your mind first.”

He doesn’t answer, handling the instrument. He’s focused, his lips slightly apart, his expression impossibly composed. He murmurs another, “This should do,” and when he plays just the first three chords, you already know what he’s chosen.

Sounds like an acoustic version of the song. Like it could be played at a wedding, plucking the strings in the background as the bride marches to her groom, fitting the theme of the song.

“Which one’s this?” Eun asks, leaning into Taehyung who’s barely alive at this point. The music probably doesn’t help.

But apart from him, most of the heads turn, even if just very few present. There’s a quiet couple near Jimin and Jungkook’s table, smiling at the pleasant intrusion. The receptionist puts his lower arms onto the counter, listening in.

And then, eyes still fixated on the fingers skillfully mastering each note, you clarify, “Dance Me to the End of Love. Leonard Cohen originally, but this seems like a very… calm version of it.”

Yoongi nods a little, never stopping the music, but adds, “The Civil Wars. Covered it.”

“Right.”

The ambiance changes immediately. You wish you could lower the lights, embrace all that you hear, save it in your eardrums like a memory stick could. From afar, you notice luminous eyes directed at you, blinking slowly, hands still working, but giving you some momentary attention.

Is Jungkook thinking the same as you? If he stood now, gently pulling you into the middle of the room, would you care who watches as you dance? Could this be the magical moment that soon awaits you in a very near future? Swaying at the wedding…

You break the longing gaze when Jimin nudges Jungkook’s elbow, chin nodding towards your group as if the latter isn’t already watching. It seems they have advanced, nearly done with their endeavours. Not too long until they can join you again.

Another minute passes until Yoongi proceeds to the bridge and the peak of the song, and then another until he’s reached the end. Calm, soft thrums. Fading slowly, snapping you out of something you didn’t know just yet.

Heavy affection crowds your chest, lifting all sorrows off your heart. You’re filled with fondness. Empty of pain. Weighing everything and nothing.

Yoongi looks up at you with another awkward smile, still humble, his lips a straight line. The few people in the room applaud quietly, and as he puts the guitar down, you ask, “And how did that feel?”

“Surprisingly…” Yoongi angles his head, and then changes the movement into a nod. “Comforting.”

“Isn’t that special? Feeling something through the very music you put your soul into?”

It’s how you feel when you write. Probably how Jungkook feels when he draws. To possess something, be it creative or not, that floods you with joy like this is priceless. You think back to when you wrote your first poem. Or when you crafted your very first short story.

The memories are blurred, but you remember the feeling. Putting the dot at the end of the very last sentence. And then, you remember more than just this.

Remember when your father taught you how to play the piano, too, and remember when he—

“You play?” Yoongi suddenly asks, and you look up in surprise.

Oh. What? Your eyes widen, eyebrows lifting, mouth wanting to ask what he said, even though you know exactly which question he posed. But you soon break into a satisfied grin.

“How do you know?” you wonder.

“You talk like you do.”

“I didn’t want to give any spoilers,” Eun confesses from the side, comfortably closing into Taehyung, “so I didn’t say anything. But I’ve heard her play.”

“Ah,” you voice, “not often. Was I any good?”

“As much as I remember.”

Your eyes wander back to Yoongi, the man already working on handing you the guitar over the table between the two of you. You puff out a breath, nearly declining, but then recall that he did this for you, too.

So you grab it for the moment, explaining, “I… I play a little. Dad taught me the guitar and a bit of the piano when I was younger.” You mimic Yoongi’s gestures from before, making yourself comfortable with the bottom of the guitar on top of one leg. “Always enjoyed the guitar more, though. Felt productive, feeling the cornea on my fingertips.”

“Damn…” Taehyung makes, and you smile at him, nodding as if to say, “You’re alive, too!”

“Then you should definitely play something,” Eun says.

“You’re all okay with that?”

“Please,” Yoongi confirms, gesturing for you to start, “you don’t need our permission at all.”

So you nod. Getting used to the steely feeling, preparing mentally as you don’t need to tune the guitar anymore. You start the song in mind, an equally important oldie as Yoongi’s piece; and then you go another brave step further as you start humming.

You wish Taehyung, Jungkook or Jimin could do that for you. They’re better singers. You’re alright, certainly not a pro, singing your words rather quietly when you do start. But it provides you with deep relaxation, and you inwardly hope your voice does the same for the others.

“Wise men say, only fools rush in…”

You don’t know why you chose this song. You don’t know why you didn’t settle with your usual choice. Something about the moment and the starry night urged you to pick out this very melody, holding onto the charm and spark tingling in the air.

Yoongi, an introvert among so many extroverts in your circle, is the one who chimes in soon, singing the chorus and then moving to the third verse. You entrust him with the latter, giving you time to open your eyes that you didn’t realise were shut.

You see the two boys at the end of the room finally emerge, slowly treading towards you with full plates. They plump onto the free seats right under the wall where the guitar previously hung, placing the gimbap in the middle of the table.

Taehyung helps himself to one portion, Eun soon following, but Jungkook…

Jungkook seems to have forgotten about it. He walked to you from one spot to where you sit, but as he looks at you now, you wonder how he moved at all. So mesmerised, like a flawless statue, bambi eyes filled with a tenderness you thought only exists on TV.

If you could guess, you’d say he’s looking at you like… like he’d die for you.

Love. Yearning. Affection uncurbed.

He cradles his cheek, putting his elbow on the arm of the couch, lost as if he’s dreaming. He could fully throw you out of balance just now. If you hadn’t played this song with your father a dozen times, committing each movement to memory, you probably would’ve long failed.

You shut your eyes for a moment enough to catch yourself, hearing Yoongi finish another chorus when you suddenly hear another switch in voices. Jungkook, singing the outro, so effortlessly and tenderly; the tone so angelic without even trying.

You could fall asleep. You could fall deeper.

You never knew you could.

Jungkook is the living proof that, despite not being the biggest sap to walk the Earth, you’ve grown fond of his little gestures. You didn’t think you could feel so shy over the way he kisses the air in your direction, expression so hazy.

A couple months ago, you would’ve never expected not to roll your eyes over his little, gentle antics.

But you’re not. Instead, you’re trying not to let show how much he affects you, nodding towards the applause before you ask, “So I take it, it was good?”

“Good?!” Eun blurts in disbelief, leaving it at that with a shake of her head.

“You keep surprising me, angel,” Jungkook admits, “I don’t know what to do with this anymore.”

“With what?”

He’s close enough for his mouth to kiss your cheek, an eyebrow lifting in tease as he puts a hand on his heart. This time, you do roll your eyes, albeit still going in when he gives your lips the tiniest peck.

Your heart is still in the process of accelerating when he asks, “You chose the right song, didn’t you?”

Yeah. A little dose of Elvis’s Can’t Help Falling in Love fits the situation quite well, doesn’t it?

You merely answer with a flattered smile, nearly going in for another, longer kiss; another touch in your own little bubble, suspending time and the world. But your manners demand differently, so you resist, leaning back.

Only taking his hand until the group comes alive a little more, feasting on the midnight snack that the men handled pretty well. The group changes up with time, seats abandoned and taken, switched with another, the guitar cautiously passed on to Yoongi again.

And then they sing some more. You listen, head on Jungkook’s shoulder, dozing in and out of sleep, in and out of his embrace.

Taehyung is soon encouraged to sing a couple, gorgeous snippets of Fly Me to the Moon, a signature song for him and his baritone voice, as Yoongi and Jungkook assure you. You don’t know when this became a session of nostalgic karaoke, remembering a time you never experienced.

It’s how you pictured these nights to end. Nearly falling into a slumber before the day concludes.

Surrounded by a warmth incomparable to a bonfire; one you’ve been yearning for your entire life.

The end of the night begins with an argument.

Yoongi and Jimin are busy preparing themselves for bed, surprisingly cool-headed after the tumult this morning. They don’t struggle with choosing their comfort in the room, while you pull at Jungkook’s leg as it dangles off the upper bed.

“I’m going to come up,” you warn, trying to tickle the bottom of his foot before he crosses his legs, smirking down at you. “And I will be so annoying.”

“Is that news?” he wonders, and you open your mouth wide in surprise, hearing a chuckle from the couple behind you.

“Babe. I called shots on the upper bunk.”

“You did not.”

“It’s a lot more fun up there. And I thought you’d like sleeping down there.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows kiss, his expression questioning as he asks, “What made you think that?”

Well, now that you think of it, your presumptions were flawed. You assumed he wasn’t too picky, always a deep and peaceful sleeper at home. Defeated, you shrug your shoulders, telling him, “You had a mattress on the floor when you moved into the apartment.”

“That’s… an impeccable argument. I can’t even respond to it.”

The sarcasm drips out of his voice like a damaged tap, and once he shifts to the wall, pressing his back against it, you understand your half childlike, half playful pleading won’t work. So you only tilt your head, squinting his eyes at him, and then drop onto the bed below him.

“Don’t you fart, though,” you tell him, registering a goofy laugh with a fond smile. It’s okay. Maybe tomorrow. Either way, it’s worse than not having him beside you at all.

Yoongi switches off the light, ready to sleep as he falls into his bed with a groan. It was a long day and you walked miles, so you understand his fatigue. You expect for them to snore within a moment, but to your astonishment, Jimin starts a conversation not a minute later.

“We were lucky with the weather. I bet it’s raining back at home.”

Oh… have you finally grown into the type of adults who smalltalk about the sun and the clouds? The precipitation and humidity?

Jungkook answers, “Closer to the equator. The weather is best over here in the fall.”

Then, Yoongi, “Hopefully it’s as nice at the beach, too.”

“It better be,” Jimin chimes in, “I’ve been looking forward to our game for ages. I’ll play in the rain if need be.”

“Oh god, can you imagine?” you add, switching to your left side, hands under your temple. You’ve been thinking about the game just as much — chaos with a big fat portion of craze. “We wouldn’t even be able to get up if it rained.”

“We’d get nowhere,” Jungkook confirms, and you imagine him nodding towards the ceiling, arms under his head.

“That’s what. Doesn’t it sound fun? Wouldn’t matter anyway… the rain would at least kill my competitive side, you know?” Jimin jests, and you already send a prayer above. Not for rain, but for bright sunshine; you cannot miss the ruthless, cut-throat battle that will emerge.

And as if you predicted it, knowing very well who strives for a win and who doesn’t, Jungkook challenges, “Your competitive side means nothing if you’re gonna lose anyway.”

“Dude. Be careful. There’ll be nothing but regret if we end up being on the same team,” Jimin says.

“True, true,” you hear Jungkook respond, just as Yoongi lets out an amused snicker, aligning with your muttered, “Now, that, I wanna see.”

The banter and chatter proceeds for another couple minutes, up to the point where Yoongi needs to shush the quartet. Your laughter ebbs down after his reprimands, morphing into content and tired sighs.

And once the conversation has more or less died, you wonder, “Do we need to sleep? We could just stay awake and talk all night.”

But your suggestion proves redundant — because barely two minutes later, your breathing evens out, calm as you finally drift away. Not a single word anymore. Jungkook rolls over his bed, casting a brief look at you, not quite seeing your face in the dark, but understanding that you’ve fallen asleep.

You can’t stay silent for this long; and you’re not moving. Jungkook clicks his tongue, fond but a tease as he jokes, “I drove all day and still she falls asleep first.”

Yoongi and Jimin’s laughs are cautiously quiet, exhausted, soon giving way to deep breaths like yours until they’ve fallen asleep, too.

Weirdly, it takes some time until Jungkook can join your land of dreams. There’s a strange yearning in his chest that he’s well used to by now; it thoroughly sucks to not have you by his side. And… is this too much?

The affection poured into and onto you, is he doing too much? Feeling too much? Why are his fingers itching and his chest not warm enough, despite the pleasant weather?

You’ve really done a number on him.

The minutes prove long, soon stretching to what he perceives as hours. Jungkook doesn’t know how much time has passed and he refuses to fish out his phone again; the light of the device will only postpone sleep, and he cannot use that for the trip tomorrow.

“Man…” Jungkook quietly complains, letting his left arm swing between the bed rails.

Sleep isn’t an entity to grace him just yet anyway; because as around an hour passes, he hears a sound from below. Sheets shifting, a light groan from you. You sigh audibly, soon going silent, and when he thinks you’re off again, he hears a couple seconds later—

“Kook?”

No, he must be insane. It must be insane how his heart stirs at your tiny, wispy voice. You wash over him like… relief.

“Baby,” he calls out in a whisper, once more moving to look at you — or the darkness below. “You’re awake?”

“Can’t sleep properly. I really hate sleeping in other beds…”

“Right? Me too.” He reaches out for you, hoping you’ll notice the movement, and when your soft fingers get ahold of two of his digits, he breathes out in gratification. “And… I miss you here.”

You hum, rubbing your thumb over his palm, mumbling, “Isn’t it ridiculous? How we can’t go a night like this.”

“Hmm…”

“I miss you, too.”

Patience is a virtue he hasn’t learned yet when it comes to you.

He could wait hours for a hall in the museum to fill. For a visitor to comment on his pieces. He could sit in a room with his father, attempting a conversation; could attempt his whole life to sway your mother’s thoughts. All possible.

But you… distanced from your touch and your lips, not feeling your breath as he does every night is…

Pretty damn shit.

“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers out of your grip. He hears you mutter a small, “Huh?” as he moves, careful to not hurt himself in the dark.

For the smallest moments, he uses the light of his display to navigate through the limited space, never daring to turn on the flashlight to not wake the entire room. And once he’s touching the ground, agile as a cat, you understand what he’s trying to do.

Quietly, but inefficiently, you protest with just half a heart when he climbs into your bed, telling you to scoot. You say, “Uhm, I… Baby, I don’t know if it’s a good idea—”

But you don’t seem to have much of a say in this matter — because you’re soon outnumbered by Jungkook and his obsession with you, shifting on the bed until you’re nearly pressed against the wall.

He wraps an arm around your waist before the tight space can suffocate you, soon leaning back a little — close to rolling off the mattress? — and pulling you close. The embrace catches your breath more than the cramped area, but it stops your complaints, too.

Winding a little more, you soon find yourself breathing against his chest, a heartbeat right underneath. Your arm reflexively sneaks around him, hugging him close before he laughs and teases, “You were saying?”

“I… I was saying you feel so warm.”

“Mmmh,” he hums, towing you in impossibly close, planting a kiss on your head before resting his cheek against it, “you are, too.”

“Do I feel better than your bed up there?”

“A lot better.” His palm flattens over your back; the scent of his shampoo, his fabric softener and him dizzies you. “Makes me feel a bit less sorry about keeping you awake.”

“Don’t worry,” you sigh into his soft cotton shirt, feeling the lines of his pecs against your lips, “Am exhausted. I’ll fall asleep fast. Especially like this…”

“Oh… glad to be of service then.”

You nod, rubbing his shirt between your fingertips as he moves his hand up and down your lower back, just a little. He yawns against your hair; you know the telltale signs of a drifting mind.

The two of you have gotten used to this. It’s said that pressing something comforting against your chest, such as a pillow or stuffed toy, works wonders on an insomniac mind. You guess that’s what you are for each other.

Even when you’re not home. Even when the space barely suffices for one body.

Which, as you brood over his sudden presence next to you, reminds you—

“You wanted the upper bunk bed,” you tell him. Nothing more; he understands without you needing to elaborate.

He chuckles as quietly as possible to not wake your friends, his hand slipping under your shirt and feather lightly pinching your sides. Not enough to hurt, but enough to tickle you. You nearly yelp, muffling it against his clothes in time.

“Shut up,” he says, thumb running over where he nipped you. “Okay. Do you know why I wanted you to sleep down here?”

You smile. You’re not stupid. As your vision became blurry, your mind shutting just a while ago, the realisation dawned upon you as the seemingly last thought of the night.

“I think I do…” you admit. “I think I figured it out.”

Because.

Because you’ve fallen out of bed one too many times. Because of some days, when you weren’t nestled in his arms as you are now, not caged in solidly, overworked and stressed. Or when you let go of each other in the middle of the night.

And that’s when you rattled down the bed. Just once or twice!

You never got injured or anything, getting away with perhaps a tiny bruise. What was worse was the fond laughter you tolerated when you told him about it, or when he was there and realised. Worried sick, inspecting your body, but still shaking his head in amusement.

Chuckling as he pushed back your hair, but relieved when he found nothing out of the ordinary.

“I’m not gonna risk your clumsy ass to fall off a bunk bed,” he says.

“There’s a raili—”

“Still. One never knows with you. In any case… you’re not getting hurt on vacation, okay?”

You could coo right here, right now. Whisper his name a million times in disbelief and absolute gratitude, melt into him, dampen his shirt. Jungkook is a thoughtful being, alright, but it’s insane that with you, he thinks half a dozen steps ahead.

Mind empty of a response as worthy as his, you settle on a joke, “Is that right? We’ll see about that once we play the game.”

You finish your sentence dramatically, and he answers with a breathy, “Yeah, yeah,” as he kisses your temple. Careful to keep his back off the ladder leading up to his bed, you keep him in your hug, soon detecting in a whisper, “I really mean so much to you.”

“Mhm… So very much.”

It’s too dark to see his expressions clearly; you see him move, see the white of his eyes a little. But even without it, you know he’s blended out the world when you look up at him. You know he’s staring back quietly.

You know what he’s feeling as the tip of his nose touches yours, the bangs of his growing hair grazing your forehead. And when the finger under your shirt draws circles on your skin, touching you so gently, you feel your heart in your throat, hear it in your ears.

Pumping, pumping hard when you see the silhouette’s mouth part before it arrives at yours. Kisses you tenderly. Doesn’t rush or force his tongue in, just lazily moving. 

He cradles your face a moment later, raising your head some more, tilting it as much as possible. The kiss is more like a sequence of innocent pecks, but maybe that’s why the moment feels so intimate.

Because there’s no impatience. No other sentiment but adoration.

As he moves back again, he doesn’t talk right away. Takes a deep breath. Then—

He brushes your tresses aside, away from your temple as his thumb rubs against it gently. His lips hover close to yours, and much like the ever-blooming tiger lily on his golden skin conveys, he whispers, “Love me?”

Your heart.

This treacherous thing — cries and flutters, punctured and whole at once. You’re constantly breathless and speechless, so you wonder how he manages to say, “Please love me, too.”

Doesn’t he know how easy that is? Doesn’t he know who he truly is, what his stardust of a soul is made of? That he was born to be loved. That he’s not responsible for those who do not, rather a ray of serene moonlight who doesn’t need to show anyone that he’s just that.

“No need to beg,” you tell him, “you’ll never need to beg.”

Another beat of silence. He’s smiling, you know. Keeping his heart at bay as much as you are guarding yours. Does he think the same way about you as you do about him?

Of course. Probably. In some sense, you were in the same sinking boat, surrounded by an overwhelming, troubled ocean of doubt; waves of self-hatred drowning you. You know exactly what it’s like to get used to being unloved by everyone; and then to learn to be loved again.

You clear your throat, feeling his body relax; your head returns to his chest, and you say, “You know. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but we could make it work. It’s not that tight—”

“In theory. But we wouldn’t sleep well, right?” he ponders.

Wrong. You soon prove him wrong, unpredictable as you are half of the time when you’re not being familiar to him like the back of his hand.

Because your words soon become slurred, silent not much after, your breathing calm and warm against his chest. Your tiny fist still holds onto his shirt, the blanket alternatively slipping either off him or you.

So he waits until your grip around him loosens. Then, presses a light kiss to your lips, carefully moving away and out of your bed. Ignoring how you hold onto him until the last moment, scared you might awaken again; murmuring in your sleep as you tend to do.

He gently rubs your fist until you uncurl your fingers around his shirt; if he doesn’t do this, he’ll stay here all night. Instead, he furrows his eyebrows in chagrin and yearning; and when your hands move back under your head, he finally bids the first day goodbye and climbs back up.

Eventually descending into dreams of you, too.

DAY 2

The air is much colder up here than you thought.

You can’t recall ever having been on a mountain before; considering your country’s geography, a very ordinary thing that you never really got to experience. Your parents were fans of beaches all over the nation and the globe; didn’t enjoy heights, but depths.

You knew that early on.

Satisfied, however, you hide your mouth in your jacket. You’re glad Eun talked you into packing a thicker jacket and gloves, giving half a dozen logical arguments like the amazing lawyer that she could be. It was fun, packing suitcases together via video calls.

But the wind still hits your ears harshly, and you curse as you get off the cable railway, “Damn it.”

Jimin rubs your arms from behind, the ecstasy clear as day as he cheers, “Come on, no pauses now! We finally made it.”

That you did. No turning back. You’ve wanted this for so long. So you follow the others, walking beside Eun. Her legs are slightly longer than yours, and her steps wider. She proceeds a little faster, so you soon hook your arm with hers, urging yourself to catch up.

You’re relieved when you reach a small platform overlooking not much but the mountain lift and all the stops till the ground. Down below, you recognise the entrance you bought your tickets at. 

Sometimes, along the descent of the mountain, you spot people hiking. They don’t take the lift; they trek up and down, with these cool hiking sticks of theirs.

Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t come with you. Or rather, they’ll arrive a bit after you. Namjoon rang up Jungkook just before you got ready to leave, asking for his apprentice’s time. Something about the gallery and the exhibit.

Yet, extremely sorry, Namjoon told him he could call back later, but Jungkook insisted on listening to what his mentor had to say, presuming it was urgent enough for an interruption in his vacation. And Taehyung stayed with him — partly to not leave him alone, and partly because he’s always dreamed of making an acquaintance with an art connoisseur like Namjoon.

Taehyung apparently has a big thing for art. The only reason Jungkook let him stay at all.

Because when you suggested the same, he rejected your idea without flinching once, prompting you to enjoy these valuable days instead of hanging around at the quiet hostel with him. It took some persuasion and a tender, “Angel, as much as I want you here, I won’t be able to talk to you anyway. I’ll be there in no time.”

So here you are now, content when cold but pleasant air caresses your face. You take in the high trees and the picturesque mountain range; somewhere in the far back, at the horizon, there’s another higher, snow-capped mountain.

And you look for a while, arms wrapped around your knees. Eun remains in a similar position, enjoying the moment; Yoongi and Jimin decide to bask in their joy by capturing the experience in snapped pictures.

Ten minutes later, your group decides to walk on, tramping up a short distance to a bridge Yoongi mentioned earlier. And you guess that’s where your serenity ends.

Because the bridge isn’t as short as you thought. Moves a little, mostly solid, but… holy shit, were you this high up all the time? They say don’t look down in moments like these, but you can’t help, and God, there’s an immeasurable distance between you and the ground and—

It’s not immeasurable. No, you’re an idiot. But you still can’t help it; stare down, gulp.

You reach to the railing with a careful hand. Why do they… how do they…

The others are doing it so easily. The other tourists. And Jimin; moving over it effortlessly, swaying a bit, but airing a sweet laugh. And then even Eun and Yoongi, initially struggling, make their way over, slower than Jimin but courageous nevertheless.

Okay… okay.

You push your phone extra deep into your bag, blinking before you take a deep breathe, repeating a mantra three or four times before you—

Scream.

The surprise of a new voice directly behind you is unwelcome, absolute horror in a moment like this. You flinch hard, reacting, barely hearing the “See?” over the wind before you slap the sudden hands off your shoulders. Your knees are shaking and you’re uncertain who the fingers belong to, but you’re still ready to fight.

The voice isn’t; the startled gasp reveals as much.

You turn, only to find your boyfriend’s eyes ripped open, lips parted. He puffs out a breath, equally frightened at your reaction before his expression turns apologetic. Baffled. Both at once as he exclaims, “Sorry! Sorry, baby.”

“Kook! Timing,” you blurt, scowling in distress, yet immediately holding onto his waist once you’ve grasped the reality enough.

“Angel…” he starts, looking into the hell below. “Are you scared of heights?”

No time to be sarcastic; you don’t have the breath to. So you admit, “A little.”

“I didn’t know,” he breathes, another apology in his words. He kisses your hair to soothe your worries; in some way, it works, even if not enough right now. “I’m sorry. Do you want to go or just stay here? We can stay here.”

His gaze is worried now, and he nods to reassure you, holding onto you. Behind him, Taehyung emerges, comprehending the situation and studying your countenances within the next three seconds until he asks, “All good?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook promises, “you can go ahead if you want.”

“Mmmh,” Taehyung hums; doesn’t sound too sure about leaving the two of you here. “You need a hand? I can go ahead, Jungkook follows.”

Uhh…

“Is that a good idea?” you mumble.

“It could be.”

Could be? And if it isn’t?

Then again. You’re here for a reason. You’d be disappointed with yourself if you just stood here, ruining the chance not only for yourself, but Jungkook, too. You look at him, and he shrugs his shoulders, signalling that it’s up to you.

So you decide, “No, I’ll go. I came here for this, and I don’t know when the next opportunity will arise. Fears exist to be conquered!”

“Hear, hear!” Taehyung cheers, just as Jungkook praises, “See? That’s my girl!”

It helps you, their way to motivate. Cautiously, you place a hand in each of their palms, moving one step after another. They’re determined to take care of you, constantly checking if you’re okay. And it works at first. But.

The bridge seems endless, and the fright yearns to return to you bit by bit. Halfway through, your surroundings look scary enough to put you off balance; you hate that you’re not holding onto anything solid, basically standing freely.

If one falls, all of you do — which, in truth, is sheer impossible. The railing is high enough. But your brain isn’t quite computing properly right now. You let go of Taehyung’s hand, grabbing the railing, but still clutching Jungkook’s grip.

“Go ahead,” your shaky voice commands; and Taehyung nods this time, no other choice left. “It’s okay.”

“I’m right here if you need me,” he vows before walking on.

Jungkook puts an arm around your waist, a human safety rope. His voice is so insanely steady as he spurs you on, “Imagine it’s the amusement park, yeah? Wanna guess the remaining steps? I think it’s… uh… thirty more till the end.”

You exhale, then inhale. Look in front of you instead of down, blinking rapidly before you let out a trembling laugh and counter, “Are you kidding… Looks like a hundred.”

He chuckles with you as you suck in another breath, straightening your back, fixing your gaze on a big rock on the other side. Thinking about how such a vast number of people take these steps every day offers you some courage. Leaves you brave.

So this must be safe, right? Logically seen. You gulp, and then, with your full chest, estimate, “Forty-five! I say forty-five steps.”

And then, you count together. You’re amused when Jungkook curses as you reach twenty without the end anyhow approaching. And just when you take your thirtieth step, he shakes his head in defeat, telling you, “Should know better than to compete with a munchkin.”

You guffaw awkwardly, howling over the wind, “This is actually fun,” not noticing that he’s barely holding you anymore when you jump over to the mainland again.

“What a journey, huh?” Jungkook praises, patting your back. “I’m proud of you. It’ll only get easier from here.”

And it does. As you move on, you soon reach another platform, spiral stairs leading up to the top. It looks a little like the remainder of an old stone tower, half broken, not too high. The stairs were clearly broken; lighter, fresher patches indicate that they were evened out.

Okay, you can do this much, at least.

In fact, you’re the first to climb up, Jungkook treading on your heels, fingers still entwined with yours. And up there, your mouth drops — the view stuns you, frozen in place. The wind blows more fiercely here, but the moment is worth the strong, cold pull of the gust.

Jimin, having reached much before you, must have seen you, because you hear him say, “I know, right?”

Everyone is scattered up here, leaning against the stone wall protecting you from falling. Other tourists are eternalising the moments in pictures, through talking and kissing. Tae and Eun are pointing into the distance, Jimin and Yoongi going around, laughing.

Holy shit. The euphoria filling each one of you is inevitable. Poignant somehow.

You’re above the foggy clouds.

In the far-flung distance, you see the turquoise ocean, merely a day away from wading through its waves; levitating on the sparkling water; thinking back to now and how numerous the miles between are.

And the forests — they’re thick, vast. You wonder what animals inhabit them. Bears? Wolves? Birds you’ve never seen before? Deers and does that have the same eyes as him?

Even the mountain range looks like the sea from here. Is this odd to say? Like high waves, green and dark blue and white and cloudy. So many valleys and so many peaks. Some of them hidden behind the clouds like before.

The birds are flying so close to your heads. And the sun isn’t at its highest point anymore either. You see the horizon coloured in a yellow-ish, orange-ish hue, indicating the nearing sunset.

This was your goal anyway. You wanted to come here late because of these very colours, occupying yourselves with other sights in the morning and the early afternoon. Because you wanted to see what nature bestows upon you.

The mountain will soon be closed for tourists, and in less than an hour, you’ll be heading back down. But you don’t feel any hurry. Nothing matters.

“This…” you finally whisper as you catch yourself, “makes me wanna cry.”

You put your hands on the chest-high stone wall. Jungkook’s arms make themselves home around your body, pulling you in, pushing him close, telling you, “Then cry. Isn’t that what catharsis is about?”

“It’s just so pretty.”

“It is.”

“Like… is this really our world, Jungkook?” You shake your head against him, ruining your hair as his chin moves against your scalp. “The same we saw a few days ago. Those cars and the pressure and the rushing people. All the stress we endure. Or even, our cosy apartment.”

You fill your lungs with the crisp air, more thankful for it than ever. “There’s so much more.”

“There is, right? A lot more,” he confirms.

“Look at this,” you say, chin gesturing towards no particular spot ahead, “wherever there aren’t people to fuck things up, there’s peace like this.” You sniffle; whether due to the temperature or sentiments, you can’t say. “What if we became nomads?”

His laugh is as sudden as your statement, differing so vastly from the rest of the poetry you spat.

He concludes, “I think you’ll really like it back home.” You’re confused until you understand he means his hometown; to that, you nod enthusiastically. “There are so many wonders out there like this one. I want to show you the prettiest places and the prettiest things.”

“…Do you already have something in mind?”

“Of course I do,” he responds matter-of-factly, tapping his finger against your stomach. “I just won’t tell you yet.”

“Ha. I wouldn’t want you to.”

You swallow when he moves in, kissing your cheek, his breath pleasantly warm against your ear. You wait for a second, indulge in the feeling, permitting yourself to believe you’ve transcended this realm and entered another.

But as you hear everyone else’s voices again, laughing and joking and teasing, you remember you’re still very much here, on the same Earth you know. With your everyday thoughts and lives. Which reminds you…

You turn to the side to look at him, his face in immediate proximity to yours. You ask, “What did Namjoon want?”

“Oh, just needed to discuss a couple things. Exhibition.”

“Sounded super urgent, though.”

“I mean, it kinda was,” he answers, catching the strands of hair that the breeze blows into your face, tucking them back, “he needed a status update. We also spoke about the style the gallery collector likes and—”

“Wait. You’re still sticking to your own style, though, right?”

His heart thumps, violently enough to nearly drop out of his chest. When trailblazing artists, already enjoying a remarkable reputation, preach about the relevance of support, this is what they must mean.

Behind someone who does something significant for the world in any way, there’s somebody soothingly rubbing their backs in bad times. Embracing them in success. Pushing them forward, lending them bravery.

You.

You’re who they must be talking about. Unshakably by his side.

“Of course, angel,” he says, “I think having your signature style is always the most important aspect.”

“Good. You’re the coolest, Kook. Just so you know.” His smile is telling, rendering the humble click of his tongue that follows ineffective. He holds you tight, lips close to your temple as you say, “I still don’t know what you’re painting.”

“I will never show you my paintings until an exhibit rolls around. Mostly because you’re my muse. My girl.”

He must think that this doesn’t wreck you inside out. Puts you back together, pieces of puzzles reunited that you didn’t know were lost. You feel something new all the time; is this possible? Surely, there can’t be this many emotions anyway, right?

If you didn’t feel it with your own heart, you wouldn’t believe it…

“But…” you begin, “you’ll let me see those that I don’t inspire, right?”

“Of course. Always.”

Breathing comes easy to you up here. So you do it again. And again. Taking in the oxygen, so entirely different from the one in the city; and soon, you mutter, more to yourself than to anyone else, “This really is pretty.”

He doesn’t answer. There’s no answer to this. Whatever his mind is conjuring and his heart trying to convey doesn’t just have to do with the nature stretching in front of you. Of course it’s gorgeous. Of course, your world’s unique.

Of course, it’s home, and home feels warm, pleasant, familiar.

There’s no doubt that the sight and the moment evoke something rare in him. But he’s seen these things before; when he was younger, he was used to this. What he’s never been used to is people like you.

Those who match nature's fierce, distinctive personality. Those who grow carefully and selflessly; like the trees offering shelter to birds. Or the bees serving as pollinators to provide nourishment for so many creatures out there.

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away because the right response doesn’t come to him immediately. But when he does, he collects his breath, and then voices—

“I love you, angel.”

Your heart skips one or two or three beats. You look at him again.

“People climb mountains, watch the world from above, need to see forests to figure out how good life can be. And that it can be worth living,” he says, his voice velvety soft. “But I feel that way with you every day, you know? I do… I do love you so much.”

You want to say something. You want to pour your heart out. Keep staring at his gentle eyes, serving all confessions at once. But interruptions are expected; so you’re briefly displeased but not surprised when you’re pulled out of your daydream.

Taehyung is gathering the crew behind you, asking for a group picture. You’re soon caught in a short, harmless commotion until everyone has collected at a spot, and you stand in position, yet not before gracing Jungkook one more look.

Mouthing something.

And he sees. In this split moment, he sees and smiles.

If he could be honest… whatever, those mountains. Whatever, them and the adrenaline that comes with them. All the natural phenomena. You’re enough, too — a force of nature, too.

He doesn’t need any mountain peaks when you bring a new high every day.

The lift is crowded as you make your way down again. They stuffed it to the brim, much until a stranger urged staff to stop pushing people in. You’re moved to one end of the cabin while you watch Eun and Jungkook forced into the opposite corner.

Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung will step into the next, and you’ll wait at the exit.

Since it takes barely five minutes to reach the bottom, you don’t fight for a spot next to Jungkook and Eun. Instead, you look down into the depths, waiting until the vehicle finally finishes its dive.

The chatter in the booth is peaceful, but plenty enough for you to blend out any words the other two utter to each other. In that sense, you don’t hear it when Eun says, “You’re both glued to each other, huh?”

Jungkook’s wide, wondering eyes ogle into hers, surprised as he asks, “Is that… bad? Too much?”

“Well, definitely much,” Eun laughs, “but very sweet, too. By all means, don’t change.”

“Ah. Ahhh, that answers one of my questions at least.”

Eun looks at him in curiosity, though entertained and maybe even a little baffled that she’s ever been the object of his attention in any way. So she voices, “Oh? Which one’s that?”

“Just confirms that I have your blessings.”

Eun catches his admission as a popular line from a million movies before, immediately puffing out a laugh. She didn’t anticipate this, out of all things; blinking, somewhat flattered even.

“My blessings?” she repeats. Her smile, combined with the appearing crease between her eyebrows, dips her expression in something that reveals, “Are you joking?”

Which is presumably why Jungkook’s thought shrinks the very next moment, pupils shaking just a little as he mutters, “Well… yeah?”

“Okay. And what if I didn’t give them to you?”

She raises her chin as if in arrogance, but the immediate giggle reveals the playful joke. She shakes her head again, patting his bicep, smitten when his speechless self voices, “Uhm…”

“I’m just messing with you,” she clarifies, watching one corner of his lips rise. “But also, why is it needed, you know? Would you leave her if I didn’t bless you two? Or stop loving her?”

Jungkook’s surprised about the L-drop; of all people, Eun must have known from the very beginning that he loved you. There’s no bewilderment in her voice; she emits the word casually.

He blinks, albeit discarding all preceding hesitation immediately as he admits, “No.”

“Exactly,” Eun agrees, wiggling a finger with a wise, subtle nod on the side, “you don’t need my blessings. If you’re sure about her, you don’t need anyone’s. I’ll trust the process.”

That’s it.

No ominous warnings, no playful best-friend-threats. She trusts in his certainty as much as he does; and where would the two of you be, what would all of this be if he didn’t? No. Not a trace of doubt.

Not if every smile matching yours expresses a silent I adore you. Or if every exhale against your shoulder reveals a promising I want you.

Not if everything he’s still about to do breathes a whisper of a soft I’ve been thinking of you all this time.

“But,” Eun continues; Jungkook’s ears perk up, “if you need to know. I do adore you two together. I know I tease you and stuff, but I’ve never seen a cuter couple.”

“Ah. Even cuter than you and Tae?”

“Much. We’re not the sappy kind. Or well, he is, but… you’re straight up sugar. Makes me sick.”

Jungkook laughs, spying over his shoulder, seeing a glimpse of you as you look out of the window in wonder. “Well, she makes up most of that sweetness.”

“Maybe. God,” Eun exclaims as if agitated, and when he looks at her again, her teeth are gritted, eyes squinting hard before she opens them again. Adding, “Sometimes I wanna grab her face and squish her.”

“The most precious, right?”

“Isn’t she?”

Somebody to kill for. Somebody with a face that doesn’t fit tears. The world did you wrong, but you exist to be happy. You’re deserving of it; you could be the most enthusiastic soul if the universe allowed you.

No, fuck it. Fuck the universe.

He’s here, right? He can do it, too. Guard you from harm; keep your smile plastered there.

And as if reading his mind, Eun continues, “I’ve always hated seeing her sad. She deserves the world, and shit always hit the fan when she was so close to finding the joy I always wanted her to have. Does this sound dumb?”

No, it doesn’t. In fact, Eun’s very truth pricks his heart like a fine needle. Because in a sense, he was also once a reason for stripping you off that happiness; but he’s made up for it. He so deeply hopes he made up for it.

“It sounds just right,” he says.

“I don’t know if you already know, but you won’t meet anyone purer. Not saying this as her best friend… it’s true.” She shrugs a shoulder, as if to dismiss the corny statements; she truly isn’t a mawkish one. “So it’s a big deal to say I want you close to her.”

Her eyes shift away from him and straight to you; there’s a gap between all the people, allowing a glance at you. And when Jungkook follows Eun’s gaze, you seem to feel it somehow, his eyes like Cupid’s arrows in your back until you meet their attention.

Your lips promptly form the most saccharine smile, an unsure hand lifting; somebody next to you immerses themselves in the brief interaction, looking to and fro between Jungkook and you.

And Jungkook waves back, watching your chest rise and fall in satisfaction rooted in nothing but the untroubled moment. Right there, you hold not one but two hearts hidden. His bleeding organ thumps, but it’s as if he hears it from where you stand.

Slowly, stare dropping to his feet, he nods, love clumping up his throat, a barrier for the words wanting to escape. Instead, he basks in the things Eun said, repeating them over and over in his head until he merely susurrates—

“Thank you, Eun.”

“Here you are.”

Jungkook is soft-spoken, his voice mellow; a textbook definition of a lullaby. Which is possibly why you’re so surprised when it breaks the fall air so loudly, echoing through the empty space.

You flinch before you reflexively turn, watching his body tower on the other side. The lights of the swimming pool illuminate his face, and even from here, you recognise the bright, gorgeous, twinkling eyes immediately. They’re not hidden behind his bangs this time; his damp hair is pushed back.

Maybe you could focus on that unusual sight of his forehead if there wasn’t the entire rest of him. Hands in the pockets of the open bathrobe he’s sporting, mere boxers hiding his most important parts, but the rest of him naked. Tits out, abs sharp.

You flash him a smile from where you’re floating, pushing yourself off the edge and swimming towards him. You see his reflection in the water, blurry, moving, somewhat funny. As you near him, he drops to his knees, crouching for a second before dipping his legs into the pool. Sitting down, remaining there, waiting for you.

Getting ahold of his calf, you pull yourself in for the last few feet. He reaches out without hesitation as your shoulders collide with his legs underwater; gentle fingers tuck your soaked hair behind your ears.

“I was looking for you,” he says.

“Oh, I just got here a couple minutes ago. Making the best out of the remaining time.”

“Yeah. I just showered for a few minutes, too.” He pauses. Looks around the vacant pool save from the two of you, humming before he asks, “Hey, do you need a moment to yourself?”

Your eyes widen as you look up, his expression suddenly cautious, as if he’s intruding your personal space. Curiously, you merely voice, “What?”

“Just. I know there’s been a lot of interaction these days, so I get it if you need a break.” His finger moves to his temple, drawing circles in the air. “My battery almost ran out, too.”

Oh. Oh…

If there was a way to hide your flattered smile, you still wouldn’t. God, if he knew how rare of a person he is. How uniquely humane. If he knew that not everybody’s ready to offer space despite knowing that somebody requires it at times.

You know enough people who put the blame on themselves; deem themselves victims. If you can’t be there for them, it’s something they have done wrong. Not the fact that you need peace, a moment to yourself.

Jungkook knows. Jungkook understands.

Has seen you run out of energy and crave a quiet evening. But you immediately shake your head, touched, “Oh, no. I actually knew you’d find me here. Hoped for it.”

“Is that right?” he says, relieved, grazing your cheek as you put your chin onto his leg. Muscly, thick thighs, yet like a pillow.

You nod. Look up to him properly, a little distracted, very mesmerised. It’s outrageously insane, how he’s perched there like he’s allowed to. As if it doesn’t clearly state in your book that it’s illegal to look this way, that it should be retaliated somehow.

“It’s been a while since we were alone,” you tell him, “feels like we didn’t have many moments to ourselves.”

“Then, this is convenient, isn’t it? An empty pool in the evening. Very cliché.”

You laugh a little, tilting your head and ignoring the goosebumps that arise when he touches the sweet spot behind your ear. Hands exploring. You respond, “Others are probably too tired to be here. Or too cold. We’re the only crazy ones here.”

“It’s warm enough, though,” he argues, sniffling, as if to contradict his point — there’s something funny about it. “I bet it’s wet and grey back home.” A click of his tongue, watching you nod in agreement; after a beat of silence, he wonders, “Are you looking forward to tomorrow?”

Exhilaration inundates your chest without a warning, as is common with this very conversation topic. You can barely fathom that you talked about this for weeks straight, and now you have only a few hours left until the awaited day finally breaks in.

Jungkook must be seeing the change in your pupils, because he smiles when you do, nodding with an open mouth as you cheer jubilantly, “A lot! It’ll be a long day, we’ll be exhausted, but… got a feeling it’ll be worth it all.”

“Yeah, but like. I think we can rest a lot after that, though,” he explains, flashing a wink to your astonishment. “My childhood bedroom is cosy.”

“I’d hope so. We won’t be leaving it.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes in jest before he agrees, “Of course not. Duh. Except for the wedding.”

“Except for the wedding… sure,” you repeat, as if reluctantly.

As you put both your arms on top of his thighs, Jungkook uses the moment to let his stare dawdle; right there where yours lingered two minutes ago. His head moves slowly, taking in the wide, endless view behind you.

The sky above and the stars attached to it. The tiny mountains far away and the forests next to them. The world looks as wide as it truly is, stunningly bedazzling; infinite from where he sits here with your touch so close.

There’s a sense of disbelief in the fact that, despite the crazy vastness of the world, it’s you who found your way to him, inches away. If luck exists, this must be it, right?

But he doesn’t say any of it — don’t you already know? What if he lovebombs too much, frightens you away. So instead, his fingers shift to your face, much cooler to the touch than before, and he queries, “Aren’t you cold?”

You shake your head, however, stating, “Not yet. Or… maybe a little. You can help me warm up?”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow in disbelief; something about the way he looks down at you with such power lets something in you loose that floods your entire body. You wouldn’t mind if he…

“Isn’t this another cliché?” he asks.

“How so?”

“You’ll make me jump in, huh? Or no, wait. You’re a brat,” he establishes as if remembering just now, rethinking his choice of words. “No… you’ll pull me in.”

“What? I won’t.”

“How do I know that, though?”

“I mean, technically, you don’t, and yes, I realise that doesn’t help,” you blabber, tone shifting when he shakes his head with a laugh, “but, you did just shower. I wouldn’t want you to waste more time showering afterwards.”

He looks sceptical to no end; squinting his eyes, biting his lower lip, furrowing his eyebrows — the whole package. Leaning in, he lets you know, “I don’t trust you this once, but…”

And that’s where his sentence ends. The words unspoken are replaced by another movement closing the gap between the two of you. He grabs your chin, moving your head up, bending his back enough to draw closer to your lips.

The phantom touch and his warm breath cause a strange, crackling sound somewhere in your brain — a bulb going out, your mind breaking. Shutting down. But your body lights up as he cradles your face, every single inch of your skin craving his all.

The knowledge about his affection and that he yearns for you like no other man on Earth blurs your reality, as if you don’t belong into a utopian world like this. As if you’re from another corner of the multiverse, incredibly lucky by accident.

Weird, weird how all of these thoughts trigger disbelief and thorough rapture in you, but how empty-headed you are at the same. Almost enough to fully lose yourself until—

The man leans back, intentionally teasing you, just a little but enough for you to fall out of your immersion. You chase his lips for a second, long enough to make him laugh. But as you find your composure, looking at the shit-eating grin, you land a decision.

“Unfair,” you say, pouting, predicting for him to coo, which occurs just a moment later.

You remain at your spot, not a lot of options either way as he still holds your face. Then wait. See him get a hold of himself before he mutters, “My pretty angel. Pouty little sweetheart of mine, hm?” twice, then thrice and then closes in again.

Thumbs skim the apples of your cheek, nose rubbing against yours, his own scrunched. He looks so happy with himself, but so charmed by you, too, squishing your face as if handling cuteness-aggression.

Calls you plenty of pet names as he kisses your nose, your cheek, your earlobe and then moves in for an actual kiss.

Only this time, no matter how much you yearn for his lips, rosy and wet and sweet and tender — you can’t let him beat you. So you prepare for the retaliation you considered before, and just as new goosebumps arise on your arms, wanting the kiss, you suppress the desire and—

“Fu—”

The curse falls out of him suddenly, just a second after he closes his eyes and you use the moment of weakness to put your hands at the back of his neck. Pulling him in without a warning, watching him lose balance and splash into the pool.

He struggles a little underwater before he breaks the surface; hands reach for you with an intent to revenge, but you dodge him. He gasps, shaking his head, going through the trouble of wiping the water off his eyes before opening them.

You swim away a little, carefully, just to be sure; watching him cough a bit before he laughs. He can’t help but scoff, more curses falling out of him, but never towards you. Only a reprimanding, “Angel, you’re— you brat." Another cough. "You’re too much.”

And as his eyes finally land on you, he immediately charges for you, jaw clenched, teeth gritted, but pure amusement gracing his features. You try to get away, but he’s faster. Moves in the water as he strips himself off the bathrobe.

The image makes you choke.

How ethereal yet sinful of a moment. Tempting as he pulls it off his strong shoulders, revealing the bulging bicep, throwing the bathrobe to the side with an absolute indescribable, fiery aura.

Teeth pull at his lower lip before they instantly release it. Then the tongue, running over glistening lips, eyes hooded, the bathrobe sitting where he did without him even regarding it. Like a villain who sets a house on fire and then walks away without looking, badass to the core.

Fuck, he’s broad. And fuck, he’s coming right for you.

You try to flee, hysterically laughing, probably too loud; but he’s a fast swimmer, arms soon around your waist, wrapping around you, tugging you in. He whispers into your ear, “Talking about clichés, baby, huh?”

As he holds you there, you swallow some water, spitting it out right away before you answer, “Well… there’s a reason why they’re clichés.”

“Not wanting to waste my time showering, my ass.”

“You’re saying it sounds like a bad idea?” you whisper, breathless as he kisses your shoulder, his soft voice muttering a little, “What?” before you clarify, “Showering with me?”

“Nah. Stop planting this thought in my head,” he says, lips continuing at your neck, kissing it gently first before he morphs the touch into a wet, open-mouthed kiss.

You try to stay afloat, but god, you’ll drown if he keeps that up. But then he adds, much to your already existing misery, “Stop or I swear, we won’t even make it to the damn shower. Understood?”

“Beast—”

“You say as if you don’t know me already. Don’t you know?” he asks, pausing, kiss moving to your jaw. “That I get like this with you?”

“I… I do, so well. Not even this is surprising to me.”

You press yourself into him harder, feeling the bulge hardening below, right against your thigh. Your hand drops from his shoulder to his slim waist, further down until it gives his hard-on the slightest of touches. He groans; gives you a head tilt as a warning.

Then kisses your cheek. The corner of your lips; tickles you, pinches your waist. You engulf him a bit more, trying not to pull the two of you underwater, swimming and floating. It’s hard, though, and harder even when he tickles you again.

He must understand, because as you push him away, swimming away a couple feet, he doesn’t tow you back in. Lets you go as your vision blurs, the movements of your arms hectic enough to push more water into your eyes.

You dip below the surface for a second, regaining control, and when you’re up again, you hear his voice farther away, urging, “Come on.”

And once you see him again clearly, he’s already wading to the edge where you stood when he scared you. Right where the view to the town is the best, the pool and roof separated from the depths by a high glass wall.

You follow slowly, stroking for a moment — but it doesn’t take you long to pause again halfway through. Gliding, you watch his arms coming up and settling on the edge, muscular and mountainous like the range far away. Hair wet, water drops drip onto his already doused back.

And in front of him, a lake you couldn’t see from the other side of the pool.

Then, the mountains, like the one you went on. A village and fields and up above, a painting of stars. Millions and millions of them. Sparkling, alive, dead, moving, closer, farther… burning and bright. Reflecting in the lake, along with the moon.

His head moves to the side, probably looking for you; but you don’t move yet, just admiring the side profile for a little longer. Gorgeous, lips formed as if drawn, a clean-cut, razor sharp jaw. Golden back, broad.

As he peeks over his shoulder again, doe eyes searching for you, you finally swim towards him the moment he pleads, “Come, baby.”

And you do. Put your hands on his shoulders again, kissing his back, his neck, his shoulder blade before you settle right next to him. Imitating his position.

He says, “One could almost forget that we’re leaving in two hours. Ahh, I want to stay here.”

Right. Your group decided to check out in the late evening tonight — an exception at this hostel — to make the most of the day on the mountain and at dinner. But in a while, you’ll set out for your new destination. The beach calls for you.

You’ll check in late at night over there, and then remain at the new hotel — no hostel this time — until the day after tomorrow.

“Yeah. Just a bit more,” you say, sighing before you let him know, “By the way… I do feel a lot warmer now.”

“Good,” he says, although you don’t miss the beguiled smile he flashes as he looks away, “anything for you to not get sick.” He nudges your elbow with his. “Not before the big day.”

No, not the big day. If anything, you’re even more overjoyed over it than tomorrow. And nervous — oh, so nervous. You don’t think you’ll feel any different until the day rolls around.

What will happen at the wedding? What’s the atmosphere like in a smaller gathering? What does the magic of such a place elicit? It must be so different from any event in the city.

Could it make you fall in love with him with further desperate urgency? Seeing him standing there, admiring you in your dress, thoughts whirling as the couple of the night promises each other eternity. Does the romantic serenity of a wedding make hearts of those in love burst more?

No. You don’t think it’ll make you fall for him harder — because you don’t need a wedding for that.

A moment like this suffices.

Yet. As you stare ahead, fixing your eyes on the clouds, you remember something. Curious as you think back to the first day and ask, “Hey. What did Jimin mean when he said I should be excited for the wedding? What does he know?”

Jungkook sighs, shaking his head at your friend’s slip-up. He smirks, and then says, “Well, you’ll see at the wedding, right?”

“…Jungkook,” you challenge, and he looks at you so innocently, hiding whatever secret he shares with Jimin. But you don’t fall for it, ideas already brewing in your mind; one blurted as you ask, “Did you get me something?”

But he’s unfazed — a good actor. “Wait up,” he says, “if you’ve got any theories, keep them to yourself, though! You’re too smart for me.”

“C’mon, as if.” You wait. Wait a bit more, pupils shaking, just slightly distracted when he frees your cheek off your hair again, giving you a chaste peck. “Wait. Oh.”

He chuckles, a little lost in you as he copies, “Oh?”

“Jeon Jungkook… are you proposing?”

And that’s when he breaks into a laugh. A loud one, Jungkook-esque, sweet and genuine, with his eyes nearly closed, mouth open wide. So, so enchanting as he says, “I did not expect that. But sure, that’s what it is.”

“Well, that cancels it out.”

“Oh, baby…” He pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, moving your head to look at him, kisses you again, just for a fleeting second. “You’re so cute. So, so cute. I love your cute ass so much.”

Butterflies, butterflies, butterflies.

They never cease. You don’t think you’ll ever get over this word. You don’t think there’s a way to get used to Jeon Jungkook confessing his love — his love — for you.

Ugh, he drives you mad. Into absolute insanity.

Sucks you out of breath, your heart palpitations reasoned in him. Your body craves him; not cold anymore at all. Tingling and wanting.

Starved for him, you look into his dark eyes, intrigued by the wet bangs, and with all the patience you can muster, you finally whisper, “Let’s go and hurry to that damn hotel. Hm?”

DAY 3

You love packing your bags, but you hate reorganising them. Like, stuffing back dirty clothes because there’s nowhere else for them to go, changing your initial order. 

You won’t empty your suitcase for that one remaining day anymore; you’ll only be here for another night anyway.

But you want to separate the worn stuff from the clean one. Thankfully, your suitcase is spacious enough; after all, there’s no chance in hell you’re having your soon-to-be-messy swimsuit reside right next to your resplendent dress.

Yawning as you rummage through your things, you shoot a fleeting glance at the ticking clock at the wall. It’s only 8 o’clock in the morning. Breakfast has already started, but you and the others longed to sleep in, agreeing on a 9 AM meal.

But for some reason, the two of you already awoke about half an hour ago; nevermind that today’s schedule doesn’t begin before noon.

For some time, you merely lay on your sides of the bed, enjoying each other’s company, brief kisses here, modest touches there — until you decided to make yourselves useful. Still tired, yet unable to fall back into sleep, being productive was all you could do.

Albeit, you’re distracted. Your mind keeps drifting, your heart still pounding thinking about the shower last night, taken right as you checked in and found your room. Not as tired from the busy day and the two-hours-drive to the hotel anymore when he touched you.

You still feel the ghost touch of his palm around your neck; glistening lips exploring your cheek and your jaw.

And… there are bruises on your leg somewhere, reminiscent of when he dragged you into bed, keeping your thighs apart with a grip passionately aggressive. Loving yet brutal. Uttering admissions that still coat your flesh with goosebumps.

Shit, are you grateful for the proper room. All to yourselves at last.

You cover your naked thigh. The oversized shirt barely hides his effect on you, but he seems rather distracted anyway. Of course he is — whenever he spies the baby pink dress, like now, he becomes one hell of a goner.

He fishes it out by ruining some of your tidiness, the folded top and two shorts falling out as he pulls the dress from underneath them. You complain, “Hey!”

But he’s still examining the gown, shaking his head once again as he did the last few days whenever he caught a glimpse of it. You still remember his reaction when you first brought it home, presenting it to him but not yet putting it on.

You assured him you looked hot in it beyond hell, but that he’d have to wait to actually see you wrapped in it.

His eyes were still wide, alright. Mouth drooling. And you understand — when you first laid eyes on it, you knew it was made to be yours: soft, pastel pink hue. Dreamy and ethereal. Shit, you can’t wait to wear it.

Apparently, he can’t either.

Because he declares, “You’re gonna be so fucking pretty in this.”

“You told me.”

“And I’ll keep doing so. My god, I’ll need to keep an eye on you all night!”

You laugh. “Ah? Why?”

He shrugs a shoulder, explaining matter-of-factly, “Some of my friends there are still single. Gotta shield you from their shit. I mean, they loyally respect me, but then again… it’s you.”

“Oh, oh,” you voice, tutting, “and the girls? Are some of them single, too?”

“Well, I guess so, but—”

“Nothing but. I’ve seen you in a suit before, mister. What if some of them are girls from your high school? What if they had a crush on you? Fuck it, they all probably did,” you ramble, and he listens, lips twitching; he forces the laugh back. “No, you’re sticking by my side that night, Jeon.”

You raise a finger, wiggling it like a warning, blabbing the most ridiculous, “No running away with other chicks.”

“As if, you idiot,” he jests, “even if I got shitfaced as heck and you carried me home and I didn’t realise it was you? And you pretended to be somebody else — I’d still tell you that I need to go fetch my girlfriend.”

You cover your mouth as laughter fills the air; you’re sure your eyes are sparkling at the fantasy, and your voice changes, euphoric to an unknown extent as you say, “Oh my god. I so want to witness that one day. I’m gonna try to get there.”

“I believe you. What else will you be wearing? This? Wait,” he asks, picking out a silk and lace lingerie from the side; baby pink. But you snatch it out of his hands as he adds, “Is this part of your attire?”

“Well, now you ruined a perfect surprise.”

“What! I don’t think I did, though? Wait for my reaction. It won’t be any less than you expect.”

You smack your lips in faux disappointment, but in truth, you get it very well. Seeing him always feels new to you, too.

You brush your hand across the fluffy carpet as he eyes the dress once more, waiting until he’s folded it neatly again, putting it into your suitcase. Then, he leans against the bed, observing as you get back to work.

Your lips open, pouting a bit. You give the sweetest, most genuine reactions; how you form an Oh with your mouth when you like something you brought. Or how disgusted you look when you’re reminded of your two-days-old clothes again.

You mutter, “Gonna have to ask your mom if she’s okay with me using your washing machine.”

“She will be, for sure.”

“I’ll even hang them to dry myself.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm! Shit, Jungkook. I’m so excited!” you exclaim, fingers moving fast over your stuff, and he keeps watching. “I wanna tattle about you with your mom! And I can’t wait to meet Ria, either. She sounds so cool and—” You peer up at him, and when you catch him smiling, you wonder, “What?”

“Nothing, just…”

He shrugs another shoulder, already moving to close your suitcase. You watch with an innocent curiosity in your eyes, hands on your knees as he pushes it away. He reaches for your wrists to pull you closer until you’re between his legs, your own crossed, obliging wordlessly.

Then, he speaks again, “Can you kiss me? Really wanna kiss you.”

He always wants to kiss you. And staring at these rosy, pretty lips of his, arched so prettily, you don’t think you fare any better.

So you’re walking on air when his hands settle on your waist to tickle you, forcing you to relocate them down to your hips. You ask, “Do you ever get enough?”

“Hmm… Do I look like I do?"

“I mean. Do you really just want to kiss me, baby?” you inquire, but he’s already onto pecking your lips, pulling at them. You place your arms around his neck. “Your eyes look just like they did yesterday.”

“Ah, really?” A featherlight kiss on your neck. “So I won’t have my wish granted?”

“You… You’re stupid,” is all you say before you prove him wrong — diving in, locking your lips, moving them slowly against his, in unison.

You tilt your head immediately. Kiss him deeper, seeking his hair. His hands wander to your back, and you arch it when he hauls you closer. Your tongues come into motion at the very same time, a touch intense enough for him to breathe a sigh that you feel, that you hear.

And before you know it, you’re moving further; straddling him. He pushes your shirt up, only to the small of your back; the other hand moves down to your ass, nothing on you but your underwear. And considering it’s a string, not even that matters.

He has free reign to your rear, squeezing and slapping lightly. At which you lean back, breathless, giggling a little as you watch him move back in — trying to catch another kiss, eyes drooping and lips parted.

But when he realises you’re pausing, not granting him what he needs, he looks up into your eyes. You say, “Thought so. That’s,” you touch his hand over your ass, “what your eyes said. Even after you wrecked me just last night, huh?”

“Sorry,” he mutters with a grin — but his expression soon changes. Back once more against the bed, he promises, “I… if you don’t want to, we don’t have to though. I’m okay with just organising our stuff or chilling.”

Oh, the way he touches your heart…

You blink, affection in your pupils reflecting in his. You coo, and then call, “Oh, baby…”

“No, seriously. Whatever you’re comfortable with, my love.”

“I’m… I’m comfortable with you, you know? If I ever feel like not doing something or disagreeing with you… I’ll be honest with you.”

He silences for a moment. Keeps gaping at you. Then, “Do you feel like you can?”

But no matter how deep his insecurities are, your answer is immediate, “Always.” Swift pause. “Kook, I— I know you still fear I could distance myself from you. I see it, but… I won’t. As long as you’re willing to stay, I will, too.”

“I will. I promise. And I’ll never ever do anything to hurt you again. Not on purpose… okay?”

Hmm… you wish these moments were rare. It does happen ever so often that he seeks reassurance and vows; your companionship, regardless of what lies in your pasts. To know you’re here despite all the despites.

But if you need to, you’ll keep dispeling his fears all your life.

So you say, “I know. I know.” Brushing through his hair. “And I want this.”

“It won’t hurt? We just did last night—”

“If it does, we can stop. I always want you. Besides…” You circle over his lap, your hips a tease. You feel the bulge stir. “I can’t blueball you.”

Jungkook smirks in the way only he’s able to, clutching your butt again, and you catch your lower lip with your teeth. He states, “Brat, acting like it’d be the first time.”

“You’re just… so hard already. Can’t do this to you. Or me. Not today.”

“Babe… you being so sweet makes it worse. And this isn’t even its final state, you know?”

“Of course I know.”

Oh, of course you do. Whenever you think it can’t get crazier, he negates your beliefs. Well equipped as he is, your man, the thought suddenly makes you want to unwrap him again, like a gift crafted just for you.

He’s in a black tank top; tattoos reach up to his shoulder, muscles flexing as he holds you. You touch them, sneaking further to his wrist, and then take the plunge and lead his forefinger into your mouth. Then, you suck.

Upon which his eyes immediately shut. He draws a deep, shaky breath, barely exhaling much of it when you twirl your tongue around the tip of his finger. Absent-minded yet fully aware, he shakes his head, taking a moment to compute before he pulls his digit out again.

His cock twitches beneath you, much as a last warning.

And a second later, out of the blue, there’s a hand on the nape of your neck while the other shifts to your buttbone, pushing you to the ground with his body in tow. You fall flat on your back, his face right above you. Lips crash against yours again, strong hands pinning your arms down.

“You’re so brave,” he deduces, “like you forgot yesterday.”

“I could never. Maybe… maybe I’m just trying to repeat it.”

“Oh… smart, smart. If that’s your wish.”

Cocky, how he tilts his head and winks. How he pushes your thong aside without a warning, already damp, freeing your pussy before his touch collides with it. Fondling with it; making you release a pleased sigh. Gaze still set on you firmly, fingers running up and down. To the clit.

You’re already out of your good mind; but you attempt a fair approach; a mutual effort in which you try your best to push his shorts down. He’s not wearing anything underneath… you know because he threw them on last night after the chaos that ensued, wanting to rush to you. To sleep in peace.

And he’s well aware of it, because as it slides down to his knees, he dares a step further. Fists his cock and replaces his fingers when he drags the tip up and down your heat. You sigh again before it contorts into a moan, gripping him, pleading, “Kiss me again?”

“Not yet. I wanna see you wind.”

“Why…? You’re so mean—”

“Just now. Come on. Look at me.”

You do. You’re met with a hungry beast who’s yearning for you, simultaneously so soft — easing you into this, not dipping his fingers in just yet. Discovering how you feel; how soaked you get; how far he can already proceed.

He might be craving you, but he’s not stupid; he’s cautious. Gauging your reaction.

This man… this man…

“Want me to push it in?” Jungkook then questions, making your eyes rip open; you didn’t expect the inquiry this soon, but you’re not opposed to it at all.

You nod, eyebrows furrowed. Your voice is feeble when you agree, “Please.”

“Please, yeah?” he repeats, just the head prodding your entrance — but then, he chuckles. “Baby. Take care of yourself when I can’t. I can’t fucking think, you know? But even I know you’re not ready yet.”

“I…”

“Just a bit more, okay?” He slaps your pussy; you wince. “Wanna get up and undress?”

“No,” you instantly blurt, “want you like this. Right now. I don’t care about the shirt.”

“Right… so that’s how it is.”

He leaves the two of you just the way you are, except kicking off the bothersome shorts. Pushes your shirt up to your tits, too, stopping right underneath the mounds, still covering them. He leaves it there, dizzy about how your nipples perk against the white shirt, just above the Kakashi Hatake print.

Huh.

“Is this my shirt, by the way? You stole it, didn’t you?” he gathers.

You pretend, playing the innocent lamb, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I can’t believe you. Stealing my clothes… and my perfumes,” he recollects, his voice going up and down. He’s referring to the time you used his cologne just to keep his scent close; once. He was very amused by it. “What’s next? My heart?”

Only that you already exchanged both of yours. He knows, because he can’t really feel his own heart beat, but yours. After all, your chest houses his thumps, not his.

But he still clicks his tongue; kisses down your body, caressing your sides, and then shoves your panties aside. He spits on your pussy so indecently, in a manner so filthy that it affects your entire body.

The sharp tip of his tongue is the first to taste you. The first to intrude. Lightly and softly, he attempts a touch, anticipating a reaction that he barely needs to wait longer for than a nano-second. Because your body blooms immediately, your pussy constricting.

There’s never a single reason for him to react with surprise; if anybody in this world understands your body as well as you, it’s him. He knows you to the tiniest detail; so why the astonished, “Oh? Oh, oh…”

Then again, maybe that’s all that’s necessary to set the mood further; he doesn’t elaborate on it, nor does he ask any questions. Instead, he French kisses your cunt with the techniques he’s mastered to the core. With each time you spend with him like this, he gets better.

Because he knows when to draw back, when to return. When to kiss you again, when to pull at the nether lips. Or when to nibble just lightly, when to use his tongue. It’s obvious in the twitches of your legs, and how he needs to keep them in place each time — hence, the bruises.

Your head lifts when he angles your right leg on the side, enabling better access to where he wants to drown. And when he comes back, he seems starved; maybe he needs that promised breakfast soon to come. Or maybe not; maybe he’ll feast on you enough.

Because he’s thorough; does enough work on you to divulge, “Maybe I was wrong and you are ready after all.”

“…M-maybe.”

“Wish we’d brought the sex toys. Man, I want to…” He touches your clit, painting patterns, a steady and diligent artist’s hand; and you can’t help but imagine it’s the vibrator he often handles. “Wouldn’t that be good?”

“Don’t… do this to me.”

A smug chuckle. “Sorry, bae.”

Ever since he gave you the damn toys months ago, he’s teased you about them constantly. And ever since you started inhabiting the same walls as him, he’s prompted orgasm after orgasm. God, the last few weeks alone, he’d revel in your whines.

Overstimulating, keeping you awake on weekends, battering your cunt and your nub. Nerves on fire. Tears of pleasure and sobs of exhilaration.

“Jungkook…” you start. He hums, but your brain blanks; you think about whatever you were going to say until you remember and jabber, “We’d never get t-to breakfast then.”

“So? I’d still be having mine.”

Thought so.

“But…” you argue, no clue why at all. “They’d be waiting.”

“I think they’re just as bad as we are. C’mon.”

You laugh before you mewl; insane when he buries himself in your sex, tongue in a whirl, plump lips operating so agonisingly skilled. He heaves your legs onto his shoulders; everything feels wet and warm and dirty.

Nerves burning again; your entire neural system is alight like a torch, buzzing like electricity.

And you want to close your legs but you can’t.

The motion only covers his ears, much to his disdain as he says, “Stop… I can’t hear you like this,” before dragging his tongue down again. Pushing your body up, he grips your ass, pulling the cheeks apart before he licks over the string just for a moment. Then suggests, “What if we added something to our collection one day? Hmm?”

His thumb toys right over your clenching hole; you grasp for a breath, airheaded as you admit, “I… don’t know yet.”

“Fine. There’s time.”

There is, but you want it to pass faster. Want him over you, around you. And maybe he can read your thoughts after all, because a second later, he’s uprighting himself; once again slapping his dick against your drenched mess. Hiding it between your folds as he rubs it up and down.

Then moves it side to side rapidly, helping himself, pumping until he’s grown impossibly solid. On his knees, he shifts on the mattress until he’s kneeling right over your face, and you raise your head, mouth ready and open without a single command necessary.

He’s chuffed about your keenness; breathes out a laugh as he drags his cock between your lips and onto your tongue. You’re rigorous, his good girl, sucking right away.

Fuck, he savours the moment much like you are; watching the saliva drip down your cheek obscenely. It covers his dick, much of it enveloped by your mouth; the picture of you barely being able to take half of him in this position yet trying sends him into pure madness.

And when your tongue teases his slit and the head, he thinks he’s dying and being reborn.

“I’m dying and being reborn, babe. What the fuck,” he repeats, immediately regretting it when he realises he spoke it out loud; because you’re right beneath him, eyes foggy but the sudden giggle entirely contrary.

“Glad to hear.”

Jungkook uses the separation from your lips to back away already; any longer and he’ll have to help you rinse out your eyes. He leans down again, kissing you, hips aligning with yours as he prepares for the next step.

He’s gentle as he places your hands on his shoulders, and you already understand why. Already make yourself comfortable, getting into position as if for war, already realising that you need him to kiss you or your scream will shatter the building—

“Careful now,” he still warns, right before he reads your wish off your eyes and dives back in for more making out. You nod; you know. Your neighbours don’t need to—

Fuck.

Fuck, how big he feels when he digs in, not even fully inside yet.

Isn’t it just a bit more than the head so far? You bite your lip when you hear yourself whine, suppressing it, eyes watery. Your mouth transforms into a thin line, but Jungkook opens it with his finger; telling you, “I don’t care who hears.”

Okay. Okay. Then… you’ll stop holding back, right? You moan and call his name, hearing in his tender sounds and overjoyed, endlessly breathy and quiet laugh that he’s loving it. He asks, “Can I go farther in?”

“Thought you’d never ask…” Yet, it doesn’t happen. He refuses for some reason; which is why you work towards him instead, your hips upthrusting. Pushing at his ass, knowing how much he’s enjoying your helplessness. You say, “You are mean.”

“Mhm… especially to you, right?”

“Especially to me,” you laugh. “You say you love me and then edge me? Prove it, won’t you?”

“Ohhhh no.” He drags out the syllable, a sudden change in his tone, as if you’ve purposely teased him to a challenge. A you did not just say that kind of vibe. “You will not doubt that I love you. Fuck no.”

He buries his face in your clothed tits, kisses the spot between them; one hand envelops your left side before he lets go and gets serious. Kicks his shorts away and then— bottoms out. His balls clash against your ass, your eyes rolling back. His words ring in your ears.

And then, he’s already dragging himself out before plunging back in. Hard. Remains like this. Then out again; all the way in again, harder. Repeating it with a hand on your neck; but the moment, much to your irritation, doesn’t prolong at all.

Jungkook must have been quick to make a decision to torment you today when you first kissed him ten minutes ago. Because he fully draws back, leaving you empty, a hand on the back of your head as he mutters his thoughts to you, “Am craving this mouth… Get up.”

You, like his personal doll with a sudden lack of feminism in your body, get on your knees without hesitation. Your hands remain between your legs, as if waiting for him to put a leash on you; rubbing yourself against the soft carpet until he stops your antics and grips your cheeks.

He urges you to open up, pressing in, and when you do, he doesn’t wait to shove his cock in again. This time, he helps you out: goes back and forth, fucking your wet tongue, and then moving his length until the tip prods your inner cheek. He angles it like a fishing hook, bringing it out of your mouth and then back in again.

And you’re careful to suck diligently. You taste yourself, fighting for breaths. Look up at him, take him like your last meal on Earth; touch his balls as he relishes in your gaze. When your hand encases his dick, that’s when he stops moving, glancing up to the ceiling as if praying.

You slow down; wait as he catches his breath, and then ask, “What do you want me to do?”

You’re not always this forlorn. Sometimes you take matters into your own hands, no questions or permission necessary. You often knock him back onto the mattress, straddling him, riding him into the sunset.

But you want to submit today; that’s the mood you perceived. That’s what his eyes reveal and what your body itches for. Something he wants, too: to destroy you, to fuck you senseless.

And he notices the shift. “My god, would you look at that,” he drags, hardly believing that you’re looking at him like this. “Bed. Lean over it.”

You listen; of course you do. Your knees press into the carpet, upper body flat on the bed. Ass out, arms on the mattress. 

He touches you gently; first your back, then your hair, and then your arms. Finds the right position, and then rams himself into you. You barely expect it — the intrusion is sudden, happens in one fell swoop.

His legs cage in yours, and he soon pushes yours together, dying for further friction and for you to feel it more intensely. Your eyes flutter shut, and your previously lifted head falls, your cheek against the sheets.

You move with them as he thrusts into you, and you hold onto the fabric to remain in place. Perhaps he sees your efforts, because he’s soon determined to help — or to rile you up further, you can’t say. He catches your arm, just one, pinning it to your back.

A heavy hand falls onto the soft flesh of your ass once. And then, he raises your upper body until it’s glued to his chest. An arm wraps around your tits, two fingers pinching your nipple as he drills into you from behind.

As you yelp and heave breaths, you hear him say, “You wanna know, huh?”

“I…”

You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but you allow him to air his rage. He leans in, kisses your neck, wants to know, “What’s that like? You okay, baby?”

“I’m okay… I’m so okay—”

“And so pretty like this. You’re always… so pretty. I’m so fucking lucky.”

“I want to see you.”

“How did I…”

“Kook—”

“I know. I know you want to,” he says, but he takes another minute to fuck you hard, fast, revved up, and you don’t complain. Not even when two of his fingers slap your cunt, multiple times, rapidly until he repeats, “I know. Would you turn around for me? Sit here?”

How couldn’t you if he asks so nicely, right?

Your legs are shaky and trembling as you take a seat on the edge of the bed, much as he commanded. It’s high enough for him to fuck you standing here; but he doesn’t go in right away as you thought. Instead, he kneels in front of you, forehead to forehead, sentimental all of a sudden.

Did you wanting to actually see him change something? Did it remind him once again that you’re not just what you used to be? A way of passing time, a company to quench each other’s thirst?

Then again, you know Jungkook. He never forgets. Never forgets what you are to him.

Repeats each time just as he is now, “How did I end up with you?” Every time. Tells you every time that he cannot fathom his luck, that you’re more than he’ll ever deserve. He adds, “You want me to prove it to you?”

Oh…

That’s what he—

This time, the kiss is short-lived, albeit urgent. His hand cradles your face when he moves up and slides back home. He fucks you softer first, not as beastly as before. But you guess the distance is as irksome to him as to you, because he soon bends down.

Puts his hands on your ass and shifts your body on the mattress until you’re on your back, laying in front of him. Just the same position as before on the ground, but cosier; it’s easier to hover above you now, scanning your face like you’re the only star in the vast, expanding universe.

The only source of light in this darkened room.

“Hey,” he calls, even though you’re already looking at him.

He grazes your temple, tender as a flower petal. His eyes are a melting, dark brown, almost black; you think you see yourself in the reflection, even though it’s impossible in a setting like this — maybe that’s what he means when he says you reside in him.

Your existence in his chest, your eyes in his.

“I love you,” he then proclaims, “and I’ll show you all the fucking time if you need me to.”

“I… I want you to…”

“Good. Good, baby. You know I’ll do anything, right? Not just this and not just now. I’ll do anything for you.”

You half-smile as he says it, as much as possible between your moans; you don’t know what else to do, because nothing else suffices. Not an I would, too and not an I know.

So you say nothing; only raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes, showcasing every shred of affection you harbour. You keep looking at him until the thrusts force your eyes shut again. And this time, you don’t need long to fall into a series of gasps and outright craze.

You understand you’re close when he pleads, “Can you touch yourself? Please?”

And it helps — considering that you’re already riled up like not once in the past days, the next minutes pass fast, and the end is immediate. The familiar stars soon block your vision, your body quivering; you barely realise what happens and when it happens.

Nothing, but bliss bliss bliss…

Until you very clearly feel the liquid underneath your ass, the sheets soaked, all of it wet. You hear Jungkook laugh, absolutely satisfied. Your eyes rip open and you ask, “What happened?”

But the question is redundant — because as your mind clears, you gather what it could be.

You ruined the sheets. You’ll have to come up with a good ass excuse and ask the receptionist for a new blanket for your room. Fuck. A hell of a guest you are.

“You squirted all over my dick,” Jungkook still clarifies.

“I’m sorry…”

“What? No. It looks… it feels so…”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence; it seems that the thought alone hardens his cock and balls impossibly. Enough for him to follow your example, letting go. He shakes his head, silences, and then moves in to kiss you hard; to fuck you harder.

He shoves you into the mattress repeatedly, navigating in and out of you so easily that you think he might slip out. But he doesn’t; instead, he spills. Spills hotly, abundantly. You know the bed is soiled forever.

Somehow, you’re even sorry for anyone who might book this room next; but somehow, as guilty as you might feel about it, you feel better for yourself. Then again — it’s fine, right? You’re probably not the first to make a mess of a room like this.

Making out with you one last time, Jungkook remains like thi, not wanting to move as his dick still pulsates and twitches, softening just slowly. Doesn’t want the liquid to leak if he moves out. Maybe thinking the same about the room as you.

His next question, however, is an entirely different one, “Do you believe me now?”

You titter. Even now, even after witnessing each of your reactions, your boyfriend won’t let the thought go. Set on what he feels for you, he’ll probably prove it to you an entire lifetime long.

You promise, “I always will. From anyone in this world, I’ll believe it the most from you.”

“My baby,” he coos. Waits. Then sighs before he says, “Okay, enough of that distraction. We have breakfast to catch. I bet you, five more minutes and they’ll knock.”

“Oh… uh-oh. Quick shower and then hurry?”

“…Great idea.”

Only, the shower isn’t as quick as you anticipated — the two of you are silly, reforming your shampoo hair, giggling until the knocks occur and you bolt to the breakfast hall. The others are already eating; by the looks of it, they’ve just started, though.

Yoongi is the first to speak after you’ve exchanged your polite Good mornings. In fact, he scolds rather gently, “You guys are late. We need to be at the beach by noon, don’t forget.”

“Yeah, we just…” You shrug. “We were organising our suitcases.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nonchalantly confirms. “Forgot the time.”

Your excuses are so casual, so careful, your eyes busy as they watch your hands smear butter and jam on your toast. Only, you’re not as casual. Your friends fall silent. Their stares alternate between Jungkook and you as the two of you pass a knife or comment on the food.

No word until you hear Jimin gasp and look up at him. His expression seems amused, and you know he’s about to say something bold before he actually does—

“Oh, you fucked… You had the time to?!”

THE CHAPTER ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ 👇🏼

1k block limit, beloved. you can read the remaining 10k of the chapter in this reblog!! the reblog begins with a new scene <3

[totalswag]

fourth july — RAFE CAMERON

authors note hope everyones being safe today and having a good time. this is kinda short but hope you lovies like it. summer time in the obx sounds looks so much fun. i don't think i've written about dad!rafe yet or maybe i have but either way, rafe is such a girl dad.

summary spending the summer day with friends and family by the pool, barbecuing, and lighting fireworks at night.

warnings swearing, happy moments, kissing, loud fireworks.

Friends and family were surrounded in your backyard, in the pool, on the patio, with children running around and cooking. It's a lovely summer day in Kildare, where friends and family are gathering.

Today is the Fourth of July. Rafe and you agreed a few weeks ago that you would like to have everyone come to your house by eating, swimming, eating, and then watching fireworks at night.

You were at the shallow end of the pool with your seven-month-old daughter, Layla, her small hands clutching yours as she stamped against the water, making everyone around giggle.

Layla's tiny hands gripped your fingers tightly, her chubby legs kicking up water in all directions. The sheer joy on her face was a delight to see.

"She's a natural," Sarah said from her lounge chair, sipping a refreshing lemonade. "Already a little mermaid."

You smiled, her heart flooding with affection for her tiny girl. "She sure is," you said, adjusting Layla's sunhat to block the harsh sunlight.

Layla was surprised to see kids swimming and bouncing in the water. She drew her body towards the kids as you lifted her up beneath her armpits, drawing her towards them.

You're so cute

I wanna hold her

Layla do you like to water?

Rafe stood nearby, engaged in conversation with Topper and Kelce. Layla had grown tired of the water and was now perched on Rafe's hip, her tiny fingers entwined with his gold chain. She babbled happily, occasionally tugging on the chain, making the guys laugh.

You were near all the snacks with your girlfriends chatting it up too.

The three were talking about typical guy stuff.

"She's got a good grip there," Kelce remarked, grinning.

"Yeah, you sure she won't rip it off?" Topper added.

"She knows what she likes," Rafe stated proudly, kissing Layla on the forehead. The sight of Rafe seamlessly mixing fatherhood with his typical friendship was wonderful.

Layla has always had this fascination with Rafe's chain the moment she was able to grab onto things. The main thing is the chain; Rafe has talked about getting her one with her name on it when she turns one in a few months.

As the day progressed into the evening, everybody went from the pool to the front yard. Lawn chairs and blankets were put out in preparation for the fireworks display.

The kids were able to set up s'mores on the side while they sat on the blanket on the grass watching neighbors light their fireworks.

Layla is wrapped in a comfortable blanket and nestled in your arms. She looked at you with her beautiful blue eyes, babbling in baby talk; you responded back even though you dont like what she's saying.

Rafe approached Layla with a pair of baby headphones and carefully placed them over her ears. "We don't want her to be scared of the noise," he murmured quietly, his eyes finding yours with a loving expression.

Layla grins softly at Rafe, hiding her face in your chest when he playfully tickles under her chin.

The first firework launched into the sky, resulting in a shower of bright sparks. The audience cheered, their faces illuminated by the glow. Layla's eyes widened with surprise, yet she remained calm and secure in your grip.

Sarah had her phone out, taking pictures and videos. She caught Layla at the perfect moment, focused on the fireworks and occasionally making perplexed facial expressions in response to particular fireworks.

"Please send that to me as soon as you can," you laugh, pointing at Sarah. "Do not worry, I will send you everything," she says with a smile on her face.

A few minutes later, Rafe approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder, and kissing your cheek.

"I love you girls so much."

"And we love you so much, Handsome."

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[lustspren]

D.A | The Way You Look Tonight ft Sullyoon, Haewon, Bae.

length: 19.2k words (short update btw) ✦

Male reader X Sullyoon, Haewon, Bae. 

Diamond Eyes AU.

tags: rough sex, bdsm, oral, ass eating, dirty talk, public sex, creampie, anal, shower sex, thighjob, assjob✧ 

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She hadn't done that. It was a figment of your imagination.

No, wait, yes she had. And in a very shameless way. What the fuck.

Sullyoon had told you, before going on stage, that she would do something that would be like a little wink towards you that she was sure you would love. You thought it would be some cute heart sign, or a literal wink at you. But no, the sassy little slut had pulled down the lace shorts she was wearing to her hips, so everyone could see her belly. She had them up after a few seconds, but it was enough for you to become feral.

You had clearly been left speechless. It's not like you have much to say, though; you were so horny that you needed something. Her. As fast as possible. You would miss part of the live performance, yes. But you could see it later, minor details.

Without attracting much attention you snuck out of sight of the staff members. The main building—not the front wing, the one just behind the stage— of Dankook University was quite big. There would almost certainly have to be some empty, remote room. For the love of God, so be it.

You searched through each of the four floors patiently. Unfortunately, the first three floors were busy enough that trying anything was impossible. But also much to your fortune, and almost like a divine gift, you found your holy grail at the end of a hallway on the top floor.

It was a large room with a high ceiling, full of unlit tubular lamps. As soon as you entered, you were greeted by the sight of an immense white wall in the background, with what appeared to be a projection screen rolled up from end to end. The tables were arranged in two rows on each side, each with four chairs. At the end of the aisle left by the seats, and in front of the white wall, was a single longer table with two chairs. It must have been a meeting room, or something like that. It would work more than fine.

Everything in there was taciturn, with enough light to know where everything was and not trip. But it was better that it remained that way; a single room with the lights on was going to raise suspicions much faster than you could imagine. You were lying if you didn't say it was kind of creepy. But the sound of the music, muffled and distant after passing through several layers of cement, somehow managed to counteract the spooky vibes.

You were forced to wait sitting in one of the two chairs at the back, probably dedicated to some dean or lecturer, but now used by a young man eager to fuck his girlfriend. You even took the liberty of making yourself comfortable, since you didn't know how long it would take Sully to get off the stage. So you put both feet up on the table and sank into the seat before pulling out your phone.

You wrote a message to Sully. One that she would see as soon as she picked up her phone when she saw that you weren't there when she got off stage. Simple and precise. About half an hour passed before you received a response.

Sully took longer than you expected to arrive. But you couldn't complain about it. She would surely have to comply with some protocol when leaving the stage, like taking off her in-ear headphones and all that complicated singer stuff. About fifteen more minutes had passed until she entered.

Seeing her face when she walked through the door and found the immense dark space was like a fun reflection of you. She had already noticed where you were since she set foot inside the room. But still, as she walked between the tables, she scrutinized each corner in case some evil spirit decided to assault her.

You just looked at her with a smile that denoted nothing more than pure love. That day she was carrying a couple more levels of spiciness. You could tell by the way she swayed her hips when she walked, and the confidence in which she did it. And how could you blame her? That sexy waist… those long, meaty legs… her tummy, hot as always… and damn, that messy dark hair.

It was fucking fascinating. A perfect sculpture of a woman. And yours.

"Daddy… wasn't there a scarier room?" She asked when she was a couple of meters away from you.

You took your feet off the table and rolled your chair back. Then you spread your legs, a clear signal for Sully to take a seat.

"I literally didn't find any other option, honey. I'm sorry." you said, as she walked around the table in front of you and went straight to sit on your lap, on the side of your left thigh.

Sully raised one thigh to rest it on top of yours, and she wrapped her arms around your neck. From that distance you could see how her body was still covered in a light layer of sweat, shining by the light of a bright street lamp outside. Damn, she looked so sexy you were going to explode.

She gave you a sly smile and kissed your cheek, then your jaw, and then a peck on your lips. You put one hand on her thigh and with the other you surrounded her waist.

"Well, if you made me come here for what I believe, I guess it doesn't matter," she whispered.

The memory came to your mind. Every detail about that moment when she almost made your jaw hit the floor.

"You're a sassy little slut, you know?" You raised an eyebrow, squeezing her thigh gently. "Pulling down your shorts? That's going a bit far."

You placed the hand you had on her thigh on her belly and slowly moved it up to rub the side of her torso. Sully stared at you, while she played with the hair on the back of your neck.

"But I'm wearing safety shorts underneath daddy… even like that?"

"Thousands of people saw you in just those safety shorts. I think that's quite a lot."

"It was only a couple of seconds!" she protested with a little smile. You smiled too, but you managed to hide it by bringing your face to her long neck to give her small kisses.

"Yeah but you already know how possessive I am of you…" you murmured against her skin, while rubbing her waist up and down.

You heard Sully give a small gasp, and she 'inadvertently' dropped her hand to rest on your cock. She didn't squeeze or grab anything, she just left it there. You put your hand on her thigh and rubbed it up and down, rubbing the back of your hand near her crotch.

"Daddy… but you know I made that just for you."

"And what did you want to cause?"

"Well…"

"Being fucked by me as soon as you got off that stage," you interrupted, placing deeper kisses on her neck, with small bites.

Sully moaned and finally squeezed your cock, in a gentle but also deep way. She then massaged it again and again until it started to get hard. You returned favors and stuck one hand directly inside her shorts and her safeties, until you reached her pussy and rubbed it with your fingers. Gently, up and down.

She turned her head, desperately searching for your lips, and you looked up to give them to her. You melted into a fiery, deep kiss. You stifled small moans inside each other's mouths, while you touched each other's intimacies. She melted just from your fingers, which had made her wet in less than a minute.

Your cock was already hard under your pants; Sully reached under them, to grab your shaft and surround it with her fine, soft fingers. She let out a louder moan and squeezed hard. She then separated from your lips, stood up, and with her eyes on you she took off her now surely famous lace shorts to leave them on the table. She was now only in her safeties when she sat on top of you again, this time straddling you.

With your girlfriend's thighs now on either side of your hips the groping intensified. First you wrapped your arms around her body, one behind her waist and the other across her back. You pressed her against you, feeling the warmth of her body against yours as you kissed.

Sully, with her hands on the sides of your neck, moved her hips back and forth, grinding against your hard bulge. You lowered your hands and placed them on her ass, squeezing each buttock firmly. The kiss then became a battle between your tongues, which swirled around each other.

After a few long seconds Sully separated from your lips and put her hands on your chest. Her breathing was heavy, and her cheeks were flushed, just like yours.

"Daddy… I'd love to suck your cock right now, but we don't have much time. I said I needed to go to the bathroom."

You let out a sigh, disappointed.

"It will have to wait, then."

"Do you want me to ride you as compensation?"

"I don’t even know why are you asking, baby," you nodded, and bit her bottom lip gently.

As soon as Sully got off you, you were already with your hands on the hem of your pants; you lowered them by raising your hips, including your boxers, to your ankles. Sully meanwhile did the same. She turned her back to you, and she pulled down her safeties and her panties to get both off her legs.

You and your girlfriend worked as a perfectly coordinated team: while you were spitting on your cock and making it very slippery, Sully had already taken a couple of steps back and had bent her knees to leave her ass floating above your cock, which you held straight so she only had to impale herself on it.

"Mmmm…" Sully moaned softly, as she slowly lowered her ass until it rested against your pelvis, your cock now hidden between her butt cheeks.

Your girlfriend's pussy felt as silky and tight as ever. You growled, hands gripping her waist. She rested her hands on your knees, and turned to look at you with an amazing movement of her hair, which left it all in front of her left shoulder. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, just as she started moving her ass up and down.

You squeezed Sully's waist between your fingers, teeth clenched and your toes curled inside your shoes. She bit her lip and left her mouth ajar, her moans soon twisting her face until a few seconds later she was unable to hold your gaze.

She bounced faster and harder, and the sound of her flesh slapping against yours reverberated through the large, once silent room. Added to that were Sully's moans, and also the two spanks you gave to her left buttock. Her shiny hair looked very tempting to pull, but you'd do it a different way.

You let Sully bounce as much as she wanted on your cock, but when you thought she had enough of it, you made her stop and stood up with her, taking her in front of the table and bending her over it. She looked at you over her shoulder, her hands resting on the cold surface and her stomach flat against it.

"Is daddy going to punish me for being too much of a slut?" she asked, not with her puppy dog eyes, but with those bold, sharp, piercing eyes.

Sully had become like that over time. Spicy. Naughty. It wasn't like you were complaining about it, quite the opposite: it was a plus that you didn't know you needed in her until it just started happening. You definitely had to thank Chaeyoung's influence, and maybe a little bit of Yeseo’s and Jiheon’s. That trio of demons had transformed Sully into a monster.

"And what if I only enhance how much of a slut you are thanks to that?" you asked back, one hand kneading and squeezing her buttocks as you rested balls deep inside her.

She giggled and thought about it for a moment, before looking into your eyes again.

"Then you can punish me again… and again, and again. Until I stop being a sassy slut."

You chuckled.

"I see no way that could happen, darling."

You gave her a single hard pump, which made her let out a moan.

"Great. That way I can be daddy's sex doll all the time… and without getting tired."

Oh, my God. She outdid herself this time. That deserved that you do it too, no less.

The first instinct you had, this time yes, was to grab a handful of her hair and pull it back to arch her back. Then you started fucking her, fast, hard and without any shame because of the noise you were making.

Sully also showed no shame for looking as horny as you were. She moaned, grunted, and muttered all kinds of curses to herself while you hammered her pussy from behind. At one point she slammed her open palm on the table, so hard it sounded like a small explosion.

"Punish me daddy! Hard! As hard as you want to!" she whimpered, and you complied with her request, giving each buttock a spicy spank with squeeze included.

Having made sure that your hands had been marked in red on her buttocks, you gave another tug on her hair so that she could lift her body. Then you quickly grabbed her neck and shoulder and pressed your chest and back together.

From there you were able to fill the side of Sully's face with kisses and bites. Your fingers clung tightly to her neck as you pumped as hard as you could, not afraid to split her in half. She turned her face and met your lips, instantly capturing them to muffle moans against them.

You used your other arm to wrap around her belly and feel that soft flesh for a moment. Then you lowered your hand and reached for her pussy, to rub her clit as best as you could between all the shakes. Sully stopped kissing you and left her mouth slightly open, brushing against yours. She was unable to make coherent sounds, paralyzed with pleasure.

You were staring into each other's eyes when she flinched and a sudden spasm signaled that she was cumming. Sully grabbed onto your right wrist with both hands and squeezed it, finally letting out a deep, savage growl that showed how delighted she was.

She tensed against your body and dug her nails into your wrist, moving somewhat messily against your cock. You only waited a few seconds, between slow pumps, to get out of her and grab her by the waist and turn her around.

As if she were able to read your mind, the first thing she did—without you telling her—was sit on the edge of the table and spread her legs wide for you. Her pretty pussy, soaked and perfectly shaved, at your mercy. The idea of falling to your knees and eating her out was very appealing. But it was going to be a big delay for her, so you defeated your intrusive thoughts that time.

"I feel like I haven't been punished enough daddy…" Sully said, a few strands of hair stuck to her face. "Is that all you fucking have for me?"

You let out an incredulous giggle and shook your head. She sounded exactly like Shuhua. Bad examples everywhere.

"Shut your mouth and don't poke me with the stick, Seol Yoonah," you raised a finger in warning, and then you settled between her legs to leave your cock resting on her lower abdomen.

There was a silence between the two of you. You just stared at each other.

"Or-what?" she finally said, defiantly.

You sighed.

Very well, you should give her what she wanted, then. You raised one hand and gave her such a slap that her face was turned to one side, and her hair covered that side. Sully let out a groan and smiled. Before she could say anything, you grabbed your cock and guided it back into her pussy.

Whatever she was going to say was replaced with a cute squeal. She looked into your eyes, still with that damn victorious smile on her face. It wasn't until you started pumping in and out, and you gave her another slap, that her smile turned into a sexy grimace of pleasure.

"Let it be clear that you asked for it."

You reached behind her back, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and pulled it back so that her neck was as exposed as possible for you to kiss while you fucked her.

"I'm not saying otherwise…" she moaned as you filled every corner of her neck with saliva. "I would do it again."

"What a fucking whore you've become, huh?" you growled, and bit her jaw.

"So what?" She put a hand on the back of your neck and tangled her fingers in strands of your hair. "Daddy loves it… and I love being daddy's little whore."

You growled and let go of her hair to stand up straight, grab her waist with an iron grip and hammer her pussy without any mercy. Sully was a good girl and kept her legs spread wide, even between moans and crashes.

You had your teeth clenched, crazy about the way you made her face twist. That girl was the living representation of duality in people: for most of the time she was an innocent little angel, worthy of being kept in a little glass box. But mother of god, now, when she was getting fucked, she was like the hottest porn actress.

"D-Daddy?"

"Yes darling?" you managed to say.

"Can I swallow your load? Mmmh!" she asked between whimpers. "I want to have it in my mouth… please!"

Of course that was like plugging a USB killer directly into your brain. You could no longer keep your mind distracted to last more, no matter how much that was your goal. Words like those, coming out of her mouth at a moment like that, were like a spell that was impossible to repel.

"Get off," you ordered.

You pulled out of her pussy and Sully jumped off the table. She instantly fell to her knees in front of your cock, the tip of which she put inside her mouth to jerk your shaft as fast as she could. This led to an orgasm that made you moan out loud.

You shot stream after stream of thick cum into your girlfriend’s mouth, who had dispensed with the use of her hand; now only moving her mouth across your cock in a slow and sensual blowjob that had the sole objective of draining your balls.

She watched you at all times, even when she gave you the most mind-blowing deepthroat, with no gag reflex or even a single god damn hint of it. This time you had to thank Yeseo. That little nympho whore.

When nothing else came out of your cock, Sully pulled you out of her mouth with a loud slurp. She then stuck out her tongue so you could see how she had swallowed it all, and it had been a considerable load.

"Fuck… and you don't even deserve it," you gasped, brushing Sully's hair out of her face.

"I'll have to share you later, daddy," she replied as she placed affectionate kisses down your shaft. "Not with one but two more people. It seems like a fair way to make it up to me."

You sighed, looked into nothingness and gave up looking for an answer.

"Yeah, you're right. But you don't deserve it."

"Oh come on daddy, relax a little," she jumped to her feet and showered your face with kisses. "I'm always a good girl… but well, today I wanted to tease you."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Slut. Sassy slut."

Sully smiled from ear to ear.

"Only yours. Are you going to complain?"

"Not in the least. Now come on, get dressed, we have to go."

Sully obeyed and hurried to get dressed just like you. She fixed herself as best she could, but there was still a small trace of red on her cheek where you had given her the first slap. She would find a convincing excuse, she always did. But Haewon would probably be the first to connect the dots; she was formidable at it.

"You go first, I'll go wait in the car," you said behind her, as you combed her hair the best you could.

"You're sure?" she asked, looking ahead. "Don't you want to say goodbye to the girls? Jiwoo will kill you for not doing so."

"I'll submit to her judgment later," you turned her around and gave her hair the finishing touches. "But even arriving minutes after you is very suspicious."

"Do you really think no one knows what we do?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No one knows we did it just now. You said you were going to the bathroom, and I just disappeared."

"But you left without saying anything before I got off the stage, right?"

Shit.

"Uh… yeah."

"Then it's the same thing. It's just as suspicious," she raised two knuckles and tapped you on the forehead.

"Um… whatever. I'm not going to put up with Lily's teasing today."

Sully shrugged and shook her head.

"As you wish, daddy," she snuggled into your chest and gave you a loving kiss. "I'll see you in an hour, maybe less."

"Count on it, my love," you nodded, and after placing a kiss on her forehead, Sully turned away and headed for the exit.

Waiting in your car was no bother to you; you were so proud of it and of yourself that you took advantage of any slightest excuse to use it.

That Purosangue was an exact copy of the one you had rented that time in Milan to hang out with Hanni: black chrome on the outside, only with cream-colored interior upholstery. Ordering it to be brought to Korea had been almost as expensive as the damn car; it was only possible thanks to a couple of good investments you had made last year. And yet, you were still recovering financially from that purchase.

But it was already yours, it was already there. And damn, you were happier than a kid in a toy store.

You knew that the supposed waiting hour that Sully had promised would be longer, so as soon as you sank into the car seat, you took out a jar of Pringles from a bag in the back seat and opened a live video on Instagram to chat with your followers. The number of spectators rose at an alarming rate; at that point, an hour and a few minutes later, you had about 9k.

"Bro where you at…" you read among the comments. It was a question you expected, since you had the lights inside off and the only thing visible about your face was thanks to the university light. "I'm in my car, uhm… waiting."

You put a chip in your mouth and continued reading.

"Waiting for what?" you read again. "Death. My Italian ass has always wanted to die inside a Ferrari."

Laughter after laughter in the comments. You did your best to stay serious and make it even funnier.

"I don't know what you're laughing about, I'm serious."

You looked to the left, towards the covered parking lot where the girls were supposed to appear at any moment. It was the most discreet option possible, since it was not a very busy area at that time and that specific building was the furthest from all the crowds.

"Dude, who is that girl in your backseat?" you read, and your eyes widened as you turned around and slammed the phone down, by pure reflex. There was no one. For a moment you thought that, for some reason, one of the girls had somehow sneaked into the car. But it was a joke. "Bro, oh my god I'm gonna ban you… oh no, right, this is Instagram."

The live was filled with comments from people curious about why you had covered the camera so quickly. You didn't read any out loud. One in particular said: 'This guy has a girlfriend who doesn't want to show on camera.' Close, pretty close.

"Do your gossiping asses want to know the truth? Aight, I have a famous girlfriend and if I show her I’m gonna be in serious trouble, what's the matter?"

You read for a few seconds, and the truth was that you were making an inhuman effort not to laugh.

"A From Software fan getting hoes? Good joke brother, try better," you read, and a smile escaped your lips. Thank god you had a chromosome graveyard as a chat. "But I’m handsome as fuck!" you protested. "Still From Software fan," you clicked your tongue. "Aight bro."

Another fifteen minutes passed where you were discussing random things with the chat. That day you weren't particularly willing to give a serious opinion about anything, so you were just contradicting everyone for fun.

"Bro, there's no way you're going to make me say non-ironically that Dark Souls 2 is a good game."

Something new in your peripheral vision made you look away from the screen to look to the left. Three people emerged from the parking lot, wrapped in heavy coats and caps that covered their eyes. It was them.

"Alright, bunch of virgins, I have to go, fuck y’all. Have a nice night," you showed the middle finger to the camera and ended the live.

You were in a pretty bad posture for your back, so as you straightened up in your seat you let out a moan worthy of an old man. One of the girls, probably Haewon because of her height—or the lack of it—, had seen you and burst out laughing as she walked around the car front.

The girl opened the passenger door, and when you saw her eyes you confirmed that it was Haewon.

"Were you doing yoga or what?" she asked, sitting in the passenger seat, while Bae and Sully took the back seats. She then took off her cap and leaned to kiss your cheek.

"I had to get comfortable while I waited for you, woman."

You pressed the touch button on the steering wheel and started the car.

"I couldn't even see you until you decided to sit up straight, oppa," Bae said from behind, followed by a chuckle from Sully. "Is your back okay?"

"Fuck, I'd love to say yes," you sighed, looking down the street, and turned right to circle the campus. "Did something happen? You took longer than I expected."

Haewon also took off her coat, underneath it she was wearing the same pants that she wore for the stage, but on top instead of the college sweater she was only wearing a white, tight-fitting crop top with thin straps. In the rearview mirror you noticed that Sully and Bae had done the same.

"Oh you know, trying to convince manager-nim," she said, as if it were a trivial thing. "It was a little tougher this time. We have more university festivals over the next few days."

"Another tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," the three of them said in unison, in an exhausted tone.

"What time should I take you tomorrow, then?" you asked, finally leaving the university campus behind.

"At two in the afternoon," Haewon replied as she looked at her phone.

"Aight, we have time to relax a little then."

"Well, I don't know about you," Bae said. "But as soon as I arrive I'll take a shower and go straight to bed."

"Why are you so boring!" Sully complained. "We were going to play Monopoly!"

"It'll only be a couple of hours! I'm exhausted."

"Well, you'll have to sleep with the AirPods on because…" Haewon began, but she left the sentence hanging in the air.

You smiled, already knowing what she meant. But you looked out the window as you stopped at a traffic light.

"Huh? What do you mean by that?" Bae asked.

"I think you better listen to her," Sully said with a chuckle.

"That's how loud you are playing Monopoly?"

You and Haewon looked at each other. She couldn't hold back her laughter and turned to look at Bae.

"We're not going to play Monopoly," she said.

"Wait, we won't?" Sully said.

"Oh my god…" you mumbled to yourself, in disbelief.

"I mean, yeah. But you know, we wanted to play something else."

“Ahhhh…” you saw Sully nod out of the corner of your eye as you looked out the window. "True, true."

There was silence between the four of you. Now only the low noise of the radio could be heard, which you were forced to turn up a little. The light turned green, so you started again. Haewon stared at her phone, and Sully had pulled out her iPad, where you heard she was playing Minecraft.

"Ohhh!" Bae said, breaking the silence, as if she had discovered a secret of the universe. "You're gonna have sex!"

Haewon locked her phone and closed her eyes with a deep breath. You remained expressionless, and swallowed, short of words to say. Sully on the other hand dropped the iPad on the mat under her feet.

"Am I invited?" she asked, and there was another silence.

Haewon opened her eyes and looked at you. You shrugged. You had never fucked with Bae, mostly because you had never fooled around like that unlike with Lily or Jiwoo. But that night could be a perfect chance.

"I’m cool with it," you said. "But those decisions go through Sullyoonie first."

Well, most of them. Some others went through Chaeyoung, others through Hanni, and others through Jiheon. Few things were your direct responsibility. Like when days ago, Lily gave you so many signs that she wanted to get fucked bu you that you gave in to her Australian charm, to which you were already weak.

"Yeah, why not? It'll be fun," said Sully, whose view you knew was on the iPad screen and not on you.

"Yay!" Bae said.

“The only thing you need to know is that I…” Haewon started to say.

"But I still decline the offer. I want to sleep," Bae interrupted.

Haewon closed her eyes again and took another deep breath. You raised your eyebrows and brought a hand to your forehead. Bae knew how to get you off your nerves, but this time she had taken it as a challenge.

"You try to get in and I'll kick you out, Bae Jinsol," Sully warned seconds later, in a low but threatening voice.

"And I'm going to moan so loud that you'll have to go out on the balcony," Haewon said.

"No, because I'll have the AirPods on."

You couldn't help but giggle as you shook your head. Haewon glared at you, so you had to cover your mouth and hold back your smile.

"Alright, all three of you shut your mouths," you said, and looked in the rearview mirror. As you expected, Sully was staring at her iPad, while Bae, sitting in the middle, just looked at both sides of the street. "We have an hour left on the trip so, enjoy the music."

What better option than playing DAMN? That's what you did, after asking Haewon for help to take your phone and connect it to the car herself. Then you could focus on driving.

The rest of the trip was more than peaceful: you and Haewon vibed to every song on the album and sang some verses together. You just didn't sing during PRIDE; it reminded you of your night with Hanni in Milan, probably one of the most fulfilling moments of your life. The lyrics didn't go with her or with you, but it was common to associate songs with people for random reasons. That was Hanni's.

Who by the way, was now a cute femboy. My god. The things you were going to do.

Bae asked for the name of some songs. Sully, well. Sully kept playing Minecraft until you arrived in Seongsu-dong, where you had now lived since October of last year. The apartment wasn't yours yet; you paid it in installments thanks to a mortgage loan, which you estimated you could pay in full by the middle of next year if you managed to close a sponsorship deal that this company had offered you less than a week ago.

After considerable floors in the elevator and walking through a small corridor, you finally arrived at your place. The first thing you saw when you opened the door was a small hallway, with two doors on each side: one was a small closet that you used to dry clothes and the other was your laundry room.

Once you crossed the hallway you finally found the big elegant space, made up mostly of the living room, located to the left, and the dining table and the kitchen, right in front of you. The smell of sandalwood essence, emanated from your air freshener, immediately delighted your nostrils.

The room walls were white, while the corridor ones were made of dark oak wood. The countertops, and the kitchen in general, were made of a beautiful polished marble that blended perfectly with the gray floor. In the living room, the furniture was mostly gray and others were brown, color also present in some cushions and various decorations.

The place was everything you ever wanted in a house. It was cozy and elegant, with a color palette that had you in love and a considerable number of windows arranged along the entire wall. You had left the blinds open, so the first thing you did was go to close them.

"Ahhh!" Bae squealed, blurting out all of her stuff in front of the hallway, "Hi Rory!"

Rory was the gorgeous ragdoll cat that you had adopted thanks to Chaeyoung's idea a year ago. Bae had run to hug her and shower her with kisses. She was a quiet and lazy cat; she wasn't exactly affectionate, but she didn't avoid contact with humans either. She didn't care at all, basically.

But she wasn't the only furry being in your house at the time.

"Helios!" Sully greeted as she headed towards the other hallway, the one that led to the bedrooms.

Helios, on the other hand, was a toyger cat. You had also adopted him thanks to Chaeyoung, who didn't have to put much effort into convincing you since you were a cat lover before. He, unlike Rory, loved physical affection, a constant demander of attention and pampering. Although he was significantly dumber.

Sully bent down to pet him and disappeared into the hallway, probably to leave her things in your room.

"Bae Jinsol!" Haewon called, setting her things down on the dining room table. "Pick up your things!"

Bae suddenly turned and looked at her things scattered on the floor, then looked at you, who stood close to her as you closed the blinds of the window in the corner.

"Don't look at me," you shrugged. "She rules when she gets here."

"But it's your house!"

You backed away from the corner and walked to the kitchen, passing Haewon.

"Yeah, I know. But tell that to her."

Bae looked at Haewon, who stared at her without a hint of softness in her eyes. Bae didn't even question her, it was useless. She just stood up and went to pick up her things without saying a word.

“I thought so,” Haewon nodded, satisfied, and she stood next to you as you looked into the fridge for food. She put her hand on your waist and rested her cheek on your arm. "You come with me?"

"Where to?" You took out a plate with a slice of pizza that you had left over from lunch that day.

"To take a shower, of course," she replied, lowering her voice.

"Will you let me eat first?"

"Will you eat my ass later?"

You smiled and looked over your shoulder to make sure Bae was distracted, then you wrapped your arm around Haewon's waist and squeezed her ass.

"Bet."

Haewon bit her lip and turned to look back with an amused expression. You removed your hand from her ass.

"Hey, charred brains!" she called out to Bae, who turned around. She was now sitting next to Rory. "Weren't you going to take a shower?"

"Ah, yeah," Bae nodded, and she stood up to grab her bag. "Oppa, can I use the bathtub?" she asked you.

"Aha. Just make sure you empty it later, please."

"Understood!"

She gave Rory one last caress and disappeared down the same hallway Sully had walked down just minutes ago.

You were left alone with Haewon, who went to lean on the counter behind you, hands on the edge as she watched you. You closed the fridge, left the plate with the slice of pizza on the counter next to the sink and turned to her.

"Aren't you gonna go wait for me in the shower?" You stood in front of her. Your eyes remained fixed.

"Come here and kiss me first, I deserve it for having to deal with that girl every day."

You took another step forward and pressed yourself against her. Then cupped her face in your hands and smashed your lips together without hesitation.

Few pairs of lips were as pleasant to kiss as Haewon's. They were fluffy and thick, with a hazelnut aftertaste thanks to her lip balm, and boy did she know how to use them. You liked that she was always in control when you kissed, since she always knew when to make it slower and more passionate or more disastrous and fiery.

On that occasion, the situation warranted that you taste each other as quickly as possible, so your heads went from side to side in the middle of a wild kiss that was anything but discreet and silent.

You put an arm around her waist and with a little effort you lifted her onto the counter, then she clung to your neck with her arms and your torso with her strong thighs. You grabbed one of her breasts, and with a muffled moan against your lips she reached down to give your cock a squeeze.

"Oppa, where do you keep the…" Bae said, again from the hallway. She didn't finish the sentence as you abruptly separated from Haewon, whose pale cheeks were now red. "Incense… Not even five minutes oh my god!"

"Uh…" you looked at the ceiling, reorganizing your thoughts. "Inside the sink mirror," you finally answered, still staring up.

"Very well, thank you," she looked at Helios, who was lying on the side of a single couch in the living room. "Helios, come on! Don't watch those things."

You didn't expect Helios to truly obey her, but he did. He followed Bae down the hallway. Rory, on the other hand, had fallen asleep on the couch.

You and Haewon looked at each other.

"Go wait for me in the shower, please," you begged. "If we keep going I'll fuck you right here."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"I'm hungry, woman," you gestured towards the plate of pizza.

Haewon brought her hands to her jeans button and undid them, then leaned back on the counter and with a lift of her hips she took them off. She settled on the surface and spread her legs wide, exposing her slit, covered by white panties from which a tiny wet spot peeked out.

"Haewon…"

"And don't you fancy an entry?" She asked, grabbing her panties to pull them aside and show you her pretty pink pussy.

Your gaze stayed there where Haewon ran two fingers up and down between her folds. You also looked at her thighs and buttocks, both worthy of a volleyball player. All that was left was for her to take off her top and release those pair of perfect round tits that you swore to God didn't stop growing. Still, that was enough to make you give in. Damn woman.

"I'll accept the entrance," you sighed, and stepped forward to replace her hand with yours. "But you'll have to wait for the shower for the main attraction."

You knelt between Haewon's legs, her pussy now inches from your face. Foreplay wasn't necessary, and you didn't want to do it either. So without a second thought you clung to her thighs and buried your mouth in her folds.

“Mmm…” she moaned, stroking your hair as you ran your tongue up and down. "It's funny how easily you always fall for this trick."

"You better shut your mouth before I leave you like this," you said softly, tasting Haewon's pussy more hungrily each time.

She gave your hair a little tug and then continued caressing it, in a rather affectionate way.

"I doubt you want to do that…" she gasped between labored breaths.

"Do not challenge me."

You became more frantic with your licking and sucking, but that led to Haewon becoming louder, which you didn't know how much you cared since there was actually nothing to hide. Maybe it was a matter of protecting the only bit of decorum that you thought you had left, but the reality was that it had all disappeared the first moment you lost your fear of fucking in public places.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen? If Sully came out to see what was happening, she would end up joining anyway. But it was kind of difficult for that to happen. She was probably in your bed, in the exact same clothes she was wearing when she arrived while she played on her iPad. Bae, on the other hand, would already be in the bathtub and you knew she didn't give a damn.

So well, you let Haewon moan as much and as loud as she wanted while you ate her out.

You loved eating her pussy as much as kissing her lips. That's how you let her know every time you did it, letting out soft moans of satisfaction at how delicious it was.

But damn, pizza with sausage, ham and peppers was also exquisite. And your stomach was growling.

"Alright sweetie, let's do this quickly," you said, licking your lips. Then you stood up.

Haewon looked at you with a furrowed brow and was about to protest, but you were quicker and kissed her immediately. She was also about to protest in the middle of the kiss, but then you took your middle and ring fingers inside her pussy.

She let out a whimper against your lips and clutched at your hoodie with one hand, then she crumpled it with a tug as your fingers made their way between her tight walls.

“That's cheating…” she gasped against your lips. "Damn cheater."

"I'm preparing you for when I'm going to fuck your brains out in the shower… how ungrateful."

Without giving her time to take a breath you pumped at a gradually faster and faster pace. Your fingers slid smoothly, soaked in Haewon's glistening fluids. Soon the sound of your palm constantly colliding with her crotch reverberated through the room, as did her loud moans.

Haewon let her head fall back, still clinging to your hoodie as if it were the only thing capable of keeping her in place. You put your free arm around her, and watched her grimace and squirm.

"Please take your cock out and put it inside me!" she asked with a whimper. "Don’t make me wait!"

"Fuck woman, can't you be a little patient?" you asked quietly, and raised an eyebrow. You pumped fast and hard, intensifying the wet sound of her pussy.

"I don't want to be patient, I want you to fill my pussy!" she said with a punch to your chest.

"Shhh… cum, love, come on."

No matter how rude Haewon pretended to be, it was adorable how that combination of words always worked. Like a magical spell of those that Sullyoon applied on you against your will. Haewon closed her thighs around your wrist, which felt like being caught in two hydraulic presses at maximum power. And with a squeal she let herself be carried away by her orgasm.

"Mmmhhh!! Son of a bitch!" she screamed, frustrated, in the midst of intense spasms that you were responsible for keeping at bay with your grip.

"Yeah yeah…" you nodded, making an effort to continue moving your wrist, since it was surrounded by two pieces of muscular flesh.

"I'm not letting you out of that damn shower until you've filled every damn hole in me," she growled, and you knew she meant business.

"Anything you want, cutie. But I want my pizza first."

Haewon closed her eyes and pursed her lips. Her orgasm passed after a few seconds, and only then she did release your wrist.

You didn't know how hard she was really squeezing until you felt how your blood rushed normally to your hand. What a menace of a woman.

"Come on, clean up."

You took your fingers out of her and brought them to her mouth. Haewon accepted them with obvious annoyance, but she didn't complain as she sucked them hard in a taste of her own fluids. When you took your fingers out, they were perfectly clean.

"What makes you think you can order me around?"

You stepped back and let her get off the counter. You turned your back on her and went to the other counter to grab the plate of pizza.

"Go wait for me in the shower, Oh Haewon," you purposely ordered without looking at her, and went to the microwave.

There was no response from her, instead, from the corner of your eye you saw how she reluctantly grabbed her jeans and walked straight towards the hallway. Thank God. Now it was just you with your slice of pizza, which you heated up and ate accompanied by a Pepsi.

You were patient, maybe too patient, with that little alone time you had once Haewon went to the shower. You sat on the large L-shaped sofa for about five minutes. Next to you, a dozing Rory purred when you placed a hand on her back to caress her.

Haewon would probably be mad at you by now for taking so long. But if you were about to be drained by what was probably one of the best asses in the industry and certainly the best pair of thighs, you had to mentally prepare yourself. Because damn, that woman could be pretty intense sometimes.

Besides, you wanted to see a tripleS stage. You were quite in that group for the last few days, and you had a pending video to watch. A couple of them caught your attention, and you had understood from things you had heard and read, that they would be at the Korea University festival tomorrow. The same where NMIXX and NewJeans would perform. Maybe…?

No, you already had enough with all the girls that were in your life, which were not few. The most sensible thing was to be grateful for all the incredible luck you had for a year now and not try to squeeze the handkerchief even more. You didn't want to become a womanizer.

Above all, it was incredibly self-centered and reprehensible thinking for you to believe that where you put your eye you could put the bullet.

The fact that it had worked so far was a matter of, once again, pure luck: you and the girls were mostly a fuck buddy relationship, like it could happen with Yeseo, Shuhua or Rei. They all knew their position and had no emotional bond with you beyond a simple friendship.

Then there were those you considered friends with benefits, a group that included Dani, or Jiheon, or Sumin, or Haewon herself. With them the relationship wasn’t that different since sex was something common, but you did have an emotional bond with them; they were real friends, and you loved them.

Still, very few of those relationships had been born as a whim of yours alone. The rest had been thanks to Sully, Chaeyoung—better known as Lee Isa— and Hanni. Your three babies. Your three loves. They were far from being just friends; there were very strong feelings involved.

You didn't have to push your luck any further. Just no. But those tripleS girls… good lord.

Okay, enough. You were going to let whatever had to happen happen. You weren't going to force anything or play with fire.

You had been deep in your thoughts, and checking the time on your phone you realized that it had been over 20 minutes since Haewon had gone to the shower.

Of course she didn't take long to call you. It wasn't necessary to answer, you just left the phone on the couch and ran to your room. You weren't surprised to find Sully face down on your bed, in her panties and sports bra. Now she was playing Genshin Impact. Next to her was Helios, licking his paw to run it over his head.

You looked to the left. The tall black glass wall that separated the bedroom from the bathroom was closed. Behind would be Bae, having probably the most peaceful moment of the day in the bathtub, music in her ears and incense burning.

You turned to Sully, who hadn't noticed your presence yet since the door was open.

You cleared your throat and leaned your shoulder against the door frame.

"Honey, are you coming?"

“Uh…” Sully took a few seconds to put the iPad down and look at you. "Where, daddy?"

"To the bathroom, with me and Haewon."

"Oh…" she looked thoughtful, then grimaced. "No, I'm exhausted and I don't feel like it anymore for today. I'm sorry daddy."

You smiled and nodded, understanding.

"Nothing to be sorry about, dear," you walked over to the bed, knelt on the edge of it, and leaned forward to kiss her cheek, shoulder, and forehead. "But for the love of God, put on some clothes, or take a shower, I don't know."

"But Bae is using the bathroom!" she objected.

“Bae is using the bathtub,” you corrected. "Not the shower."

"That is the same!"

"Of course not. You can use the shower while she uses the bathtub."

"But-"

"She's seen you naked before, hasn't she?"

"Yes but…" she looked at her iPad and groaned. "Ugh, fine."

Sully reluctantly stood up and went to the glass wall. You stood up too, as Haewon was calling you again.

"Don't be a brat, you weren't going to sleep with me without taking a bath."

"You weren't going to sleep with me without taking a bath," she imitated you in a silly voice, then she stuck her tongue out at you and slid the glass just enough for her to get in without you looking inside.

What bad influences did. Sully was full of them.

You let out a long breath and, before Haewon went out to find you herself, you went to the guest bathroom.

It was considerably smaller than the main bathroom, with the sink just in front of the entrance, the toilet to the right, and the shower to the left. Inside it you found Haewon, already completely naked in the shower, with the phone in her hand. She had removed her extensions, and her short hair was held to the sides of her head by two clips.

And she wasn’t happy. Not at all.

"Haessal…"

'Haessal' was the pet name you had for Haewon. It was the closest thing to a Korean translation of 'Sunshine'. Besides, it was like a cute modification of her real name.

"Haessal my ass," she said as you closed the door behind you. "Come here."

You nodded and looked down. You undressed as quickly as you could, but Haewon's gaze burning into your skin made you nervous and you almost crashed into the wall on the right. You cleared your throat to hide your embarrassment, and once naked you went into the shower with her.

"There was no reason for you to spend twenty-five minutes out there," she said, and turned her back on you to slide the glass closest to the sink to leave her phone there. Then closed it again.

You took a step forward, which in that small space left you with your body pressed against hers. Your cock against her round ass. Haewon turned her head and glared at you, as the water from the shower fell between her body and yours.

"I was spending some time with my daughter, woman, can you blame me?"

You surrounded Haewon's body with your two arms, one of them just below her breasts, which you raised a little. The tight hug made the water fall on the back of your neck, but also that you could now feel almost every corner of her against you. Then, you started kissing her neck.

"Liar. I could hear Girls Never Die from here," she said, cold as ice despite your attempts to melt her.

"It was just the song, I was petting Rory."

"You're lying again. I could hear the stage fanchants."

You let out a sigh and gave up, your face buried in her neck.

"Very well, if you insist so much."

With one arm around her abdomen you exchanged positions: she was now on the side of the wall opposite the shower, which now fell on your back. As upset as she seemed, she didn't put up any resistance when you placed a hand on her neck and forced her to bend forward, her hands resting on the ceramic wall.

You got on your knees behind her, her round, firm, perfect ass inches from your face. Having that view was like seeing one of the seven wonders of the world, especially if you looked down a little further and found those beefy thighs ready to be made to tremble.

You didn't make her wait much longer. You grabbed her buttocks, one in each hand, and spread them apart to bury your face between them. You directly attacked her butthole with your tongue, which made Haewon tense up and let out a gasp that you knew was originally a moan, but in her desire to appear cold, she had hidden it.

Let it be a challenge, then. You loved challenges.

Not only did you lick and kiss Haewon's butthole, you also went down every few seconds to lick her pussy, between her folds, and inside her. You squeezed her buttocks, which transformed into two anti-stress masses with a smooth surface and spongy texture. You spanked one of them, and the drops of water on it splashed on you.

"You're cheating again…" she gasped, and you could hear a hint of a moan. "Don't you know any other method to calm me down?"

"I know several," you replied, now working with greater eagerness on her butthole. "But then we'd get cheesy, and right now I just want to fuck the anger out of you."

"Then fucking do it, coward," she snapped.

You spanked her again, harder, hoping she would shut her mouth once and for all. To your surprise she let out a whimper, muffled against her pursed lips. You continued the licks around, against and into her butthole for a few more seconds. But soon your cock felt painfully hard.

You stood up, spit on your hand and brought it to your cock to lubricate it. Then you held Haewon's waist with your left hand, while with the other you guided your tip to her pussy to sink into it with a single slow motion.

"Mmmgh yes!" she moaned loudly, and bit her lower lip hard. "Fucking finally."

If someone told you that even Haewon's pussy was muscular inside you would have believed it without many questions. You gasped, delighting in how extraordinarily good the softness and warmth of her walls felt wrapped around your cock, which was now completely inside her.

"This was what you wanted, wasn't it?" You growled, placing your free hand on her waist as well. "Now moan for me, you tough bitch."

Haewon's pussy was already well lubricated thanks to her own fluids, which meant that you could slide in and out of her without any resistance. That allowed you to hammer her hard and mercilessly right from the start.

She couldn't hold back any longer and finally grimaced, moaning with each frantic thrust that took your cock completely in and out of her. The sound of her firm flesh colliding against yours rang out over the falling water, and reverberated between the walls of the small bathroom.

"Do you think that damn wonderful ass is for decoration?" she asked, looking at it as you make it jiggle with each crash. "Spank it, squeeze it! Hmmgh!"

Complying with such a request was mandatory. But maybe you had gotten a little carried away, since once the first spank fell, you continued again and again. Haewon moaned at first, but with the last few those moans turned into screams of pleasure. You didn't stop until those beautiful buttocks were so red that they looked like they were about to bleed at any moment.

With the spanks covered, you dedicated yourself to squeeze and massage her buttocks, which had to intensify the itch generated by the burning on her skin. You didn't mind, and neither did she, since she was enjoying it even more than you.

You left one hand on her left buttock and brought the other to her hair. It was a shame it wasn't as long as before, but that didn't stop you from grabbing a good handful of it and pulling back.

"Oh my god keep going! You're gonna make me cum so hard!" Haewon screeched, as you pumped without a small hint of exhaustion.

Haewon pursed her lips and wrinkled her forehead, frozen in what were the seconds before her orgasm. She exploded with just a few more thrusts, and slammed the side of her fist into the wall with a grunt.

But you didn't slow down; you fucked her through her orgasm. You grabbed one of her thighs and made her lift her leg, which you held in the air below her knee. Haewon's body was now slightly sideways, allowing you to watch her pair of wet tits bounce again and again.

She was no longer moaning, now she was whimpering. When she opened her eyes to look at you you could see tears in them. Perfect. Did she not want to be railed? May she reap what she sowed in you.

"Are you gonna fill my pussy, you fucking liar?" she growled with a hand on your chest, looking at you with eyes overflowing with lust. "I think you should hurry up. I'm crazy about draining those balls with my mouth too."

You gritted your teeth and groaned in pleasure. You hugged Haewon's thigh with both arms, clinging to it like a koala to a branch. She stretched even further, putting her ankle over your shoulder to rest it there. Now, with that posture worthy of a ballerina, you had the perfect angle to make you enter the final stretch.

Haewon went back to whining. Between that dirty talk towards you she hadn’t realized that another orgasm was just around the corner, because while you destroyed her pussy with fast and strong thrusts, she came again.

She put a hand to her mouth and let out another grunt of pure pleasure, her eyes rolled back. The visual input of her twisted face, the way her thigh trembled under your arms, and the suffocating grip of her pussy were more than enough to make you explode inside her.

"Ughhh!" you growled, resting balls deep inside her as you painted the walls of her pussy in her white. "My god!"

“Oh fuck yes…” she sighed, caressing your chest with her fingers. "That's… put it all inside."

With slow and deliberate pumps you made sure to leave every drop of your load inside her. When you were done, your cock came out like a plug and let a whole ass waterfall of cum seep through her folds and fall to the shower floor. This quickly dissolved in water and disappeared into the drain.

"Let me fucking kiss you for the love of god," you said with a gasp.

"You know I never say no to that," Haewon replied, with a hint of a smile.

"Liar," you said, and took her leg off your shoulder.

Haewon giggled and let you approach her. You turned her around, wrapped your arms around her and lifted her into the air. She gripped her strong thighs around your body, and wrapped her arms around your neck. Then you stuck her back to the wall and kissed her.

It could have been 5 or 15 minutes, you couldn't really tell, because when you kissed Haewon, her addictive lips made you enter a deep trance. You could just go on and on, but a greater need called you.

"Mmmh…" Haewon moaned softly, as you pulled away from her lips and took one of her tits into your mouth. "I was starting to wonder when you were going to give them some love."

"Ever since I got in the shower you've treated me like a piece of trash," you said, perhaps with a little too much drama.

The fact that her tits seemed bigger every day was not an exaggeration at all, although perhaps it was just a product of your mind, which had a special fixation on them. But how could you not have it if those pair of mounds bordered on perfection?

"My god, you're such a crybaby," she teased with a giggle, her fingers affectionately stroking the hair at the nape of your neck. "Would you forgive me, sweetheart?"

You licked and sucked on her nipples, up and down in a slow, tortuous rhythm. Haewon let out another small moan.

"Hmm… it doesn't sound like you mean it," you murmured against the skin of one of her soft mounds, and began placing kisses around her nipples.

"Honey, I spoil you too much," she said, and cradled your face so you were looking into her eyes. "Would you forgive me, please?"

She fluttered her eyelashes and looked at you with a pair of adorable bright eyes. Now she was the one who was cheating; she used her natural charms to manipulate you.

You narrowed your eyes.

"Only if you fill me with kisses."

She raised an eyebrow, amused.

"Didn't you say you didn't want to get cheesy?"

"Do you want me to forgive you or not?"

She rolled her eyes and dutifully placed kisses on every corner of your face, and you found yourself smiling like a fool. Maybe you were a little too spoiled by her.

"Forgiven," you said when she finished, with a little smile.

"Uh huh, now put me down," she patted you on the back twice. "You know I have work to do."

You took her off the wall and let her get off you. As soon as her feet touched the floor, she carefully lowered herself to her knees in front of your cock, still quite smeared on the tip by your own cum. Haewon then took it by the base and the first thing she did was take your tip into her mouth to clean it with gentle sucks.

"Mmm…" She pulled you out of her mouth and placed kisses around your tip. "I hope those balls can give me at least two more."

"Try your luck and see what you find, Haessal."

Haewon stuck her tongue out and planted it under your cock. With a slow head movement she licked upwards, and in the same motion she took half of your shaft into her mouth. You let out a gasp and crossed your hands behind your back. She gave a small moan, as she took you in and out of her mouth.

You took one hand from behind your back and brought it to her cheek to rub it with your thumb; then you placed it on her head, and stroked her hair as she took a couple more inches and sucked more and more hungrily.

She brought one hand to your thigh, and left the other around the base of your cock. Her head pumps became faster, and her suck sounds louder and sloppy. Haewon wasn't able to take you completely inside her mouth, but she sucked what she could so well that it wasn't even missed. She wasn't as prodigious as Rei or Yoon, but she was very good.

Every few seconds she would pull you out of her mouth for air and lick your cock, up the sides, around your tip and also down to your balls to kiss them while she masturbated you with her hand.

After a couple of minutes of messy blowjob, Haewon decided to finish you off quickly. Your cock was slippery, with a thick layer of saliva on top of it which she used to add her hand and move it in combination with her mouth. You gasped, already noticing the consequences on your body. Then she looked into your eyes, expectantly, and used a trick that always worked: she spread her knees and arched her back, so that you could see her magnificent ass raised. That was an instant nut for you.

“You motherfu…” you growled, and gritted your teeth the moment you started shooting a load into her warm mouth. Your hand on the back of her head.

Haewon removed her hand from your shaft and placed them both on the shower floor, now using only her mouth to drain your cock at a slow, sensual pace. You noticed how she swallowed every drop of it, while she let out soft moans of pleasure and slurped every inch of your shaft available to her.

She finally took you out of her mouth, and when you saw your cock, you noticed it was clean and shiny. Haewon caught her breath and filled it with kisses, then she looked at you.

"Delicious as always," she said, and you didn't need to see her tongue to know that your load was probably already all in her stomach. "But there is still a hole to fill…"

You, still shaken by your recent orgasm and with your cock sensitive, looked at her and offered her your hands. She took them, and stood up with your help.

“And I will,” you stated. "But can we do it outside? We haven't even had a real shower."

She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Come on, you go first."

She gave you a little push and you ended up under the shower. Luckily the water was warm, but that didn't stop you from almost accidentally swallowing some of it. You didn't say anything, you just lowered your head and let your hair get wet.

Haewon took the soap from behind you and rubbed it all over your body. She did an excellent job, but she refused to accept your help when she reached your most intimate parts, which made it somewhat intrusive. But at that point you didn't care about that. It's not like you haven't touched every part of each other's bodies before and like she doesn't have maternal instincts with you sometimes.

By being ready you returned the favor to her. A perfect excuse to feel her entire body slippery against your hands. Just like she was with you, you were just as intrusive. But of course she didn't care either, on the contrary the only thing you did was turn her even more, and she hurried you so that you could finally go outside.

Finally, when you were both showered, you turned off the faucet and you both went out to dry yourself with the same towel. Haewon finally took off the clips holding her short hair up and took your hand to lead you outside. Rory was still asleep on the couch, which of course made it impossible to use.

"Do you want to use the balcony?" Haewon asked, gesturing towards it.

"Huh? Are you sure?" You raised your eyebrows. "We still have the guest room."

"I don't feel like using a bed, to be honest. So yeah."

"Come on, then."

This time it was you who led the way, with Haewon holded to your hand. You walked to the left, towards the glass door that led to the balcony; it was covered by the blinds, so you first had to roll them up to slide the glass and get out.

The space was relatively small: a table and two black chairs located on the left side, a plant in the corner, and a small stool with an ashtray, a pack of blue Marlboros and a lighter on top, in the opposite corner.

However, the strong point of the balcony was not the space, it was how it was located: not a single building in front, several meters high, and with a beautiful view of the entire south of Seoul behind the Han River. The perfect place to sit and drink a beer, smoke a cigarette and relax after work.

Or in those cases, to fuck and give a show to the whole city. You had used it a few more times already, once with Chaeyoung and the rest with Jiheon, who always got very horny at the idea that someone could see her being fucked.

"Wah, I never get tired of this view," Haewon said, and she went to lean on the railing. The wind blew against her face, and it made her hair flutter.

"And I never get tired of this one," you responded from behind her, staring at her ass.

You pulled out one of the chairs and positioned it right in the middle of the balcony, facing forward. You sat on it.

Haewon looked over her shoulder at you and looked down at your flaccid cock. She smiled and bent her upper body down, her hands resting on the railing. That left her ass inches from your face.

"How about we bring it back to life?" she asked with a mischievous tone of voice, then she lowered her ass and sat right on top of your cock.

She rested her hands on your knees and started moving her ass back and forth, your cock being kneaded between her butt cheeks. That didn't take long to make you hard, and Haewon let a satisfied moan escape from her as she felt you firm against her skin.

Even though she already had the job done she didn't stop; she continued with even more energetic, passionate movements. You placed your hands on her waist, feeling her athletic abdomen from the front with your fingertips.

"A little dry, don't you think?" you asked, biting your lip as you grabbed her butt cheek.

Haewon looked at you over her shoulder.

"I have the solution for that," she replied. "But I don't think the wind is going to help."

Haewon then spit on her hand and wrapped it around your cock to rub it just a few times, enough to cover it with a layer of saliva that served as lubricant for the assjob she began to give you.

You let out a gasp, watching as your cock was the filling of a firm meat sandwich. You ran your hands up Haewon's back, then over her shoulders and down her sturdy arms. Then you reached around her body, grabbed both of her tits and kneaded them while she moved her ass in wide, slow circles.

She moaned and removed her hands from your knees, so that the full weight of her ass was crushing your cock against your abdomen. Then she leaned her body back, and she put her hand on the back of your neck to kiss you, continuing to rub your shaft between her buttocks.

"You don't want my thighs?" she murmured between kisses. "I wouldn't want you to cum like this; it would be a waste."

"I thought you wanted it inside your ass," you replied, and reached down with one hand just to reach her pussy and subtly touch her clit.

"I do want it," she raised her ass and reached for your cock again, but this time she spread her thighs a little to put it between them. "But since we don't have lubricant available, we will have to use our natural resources."

Well, that night your balls would end up like a pair of dry chestnuts. You wish you had prepared better, but Haewon was as unpredictable as a dice roll.

Now, you couldn't complain in the slightest. Receiving a thighjob from her was like going up to heaven, being touched by an angel, and coming back down to earth on a cloud. She squeezed her thighs on either side of your cock, but she didn't consider it enough, so she crossed one leg over the other.

"And so you expect me to last until I fuck your ass?" you gasped, and pursed your lips at the stupidly overwhelming pleasure of having that pair of strong thighs crushing your cock.

Haewon placed a couple of kisses on your jaw and caressed the back of your neck.

"I don't expect you to last," she replied, purposely tensing her thighs to further suffocate your cock. "I intend to use your cum as lubricant for my ass."

Before you could protest she leaned forward again and grabbed onto your thighs to move up and down, so slowly that it felt like your cock was going in and out of a rolling mill. That's when you noticed how really athletic that girl was, since she only had one foot on the floor while she worked her triceps to go up and down.

"Oh my god yes," you gasped, clinging to her waist. "Use me as a gym."

Haewon giggled and nudged your thigh.

"Maybe another day I'll use you for my squats," she said, and she started moving faster.

You let out a louder moan, closed your eyes and let your head fall back. There was no possible way not to feel removed from the physical plane when Haewon gave you a thighjob as tight and stifling as that. At that moment you could say with complete certainty that you'd rather fuck her thighs than her pussy, but Haewon was such a complete package that an opinion like that changed from one day to the next.

She stopped just for a second and spit on your cock. Saliva fell on your tip, hot and thick, and spread over the rest of your shaft as Haewon's thighs went up and down.

You opened your eyes and straightened your head. Her sexy back was your focus for a few long seconds, but then you looked down at her ass. You couldn't just sit still while that woman melted you, so you sucked on your ring and middle fingers and brought them to her butthole.

Haewon was startled, but then moaned when she felt your fingers rub at first and then penetrate a few inches into her tight butthole. When half of your fingers were inside her you simply left your wrist still, so that she could fuck her own ass at the same time that she stroked your cock with her thighs.

Soon your moans were joined by Haewon’s, who in a moment turned to look at you and asked you with a nod to take the rest of the length of your fingers inside her. So you did, raising your wrist so that your fingers were buried knuckle-deep inside her butthole.

Now Haewon, with a new motivation to up the gear, sacrificed some pressure around your cock just to gain speed. You hardly noticed any difference, since you were so close that just that slight friction on both sides was enough to take you down the hill.

Your fingers went comfortably in and out of Haewon's butthole, who in search of more pleasure moved as fast as her own arms would allow her. Unfortunately for her, the work her thighs were doing quickly paid off, and with a loud growl you exploded between them.

She realized that you were in the throes of an orgasm, but she didn't seem to care; she continued to move painfully fast as your fingers continued to act as her personal dildo.

"H-hey… stop!" you growled, and gave her a careless spank while you were still shooting cum streams onto the air.

Haewon screeched and finally stopped. She turned to look at you with her brow furrowed. She then looked down, realizing that her thighs and your cock were covered in cum.

"Oops," she said with a giggle.

"Oops my ass. Come here."

You took your fingers out from inside her butthole and with the same hand you pushed her forward. Haewon fell to her knees on the wooden floor, and automatically bent her back to make a perfect arch and rest her hands on it.

With her ass raised and presented to you, you stood up, pushed the chair behind you with your foot, and knelt behind her. Your cock was still hard and soaked in your own fluids; you took it with one hand, and as painful as it seemed at first, you buried it inside Haewon's butthole.

She moaned, but you let out a pained groan.

"I hope you're on my damn side when we play Monopoly," you said thinly, as your cock easily slid into her.

Just like Haewon wanted it, your cum served as a makeshift lubricant. It felt strange, but it fulfilled its function perfectly. With rather a minuscule effort your cock was completely inside.

"It's a game of chance, darling, I don't think I can do much about it," she replied, her head falling between her shoulders.

You placed a hand on her ass and gave her butt cheek a gentle squeeze. Then you started pumping your hips slowly. Your cock was still sensitive, so you felt more pain than pleasure at first.

"Give me squares, skip turns, I don't know."

She leaned on her forearms to turn her head and look at you, her mouth slightly open and her brow furrowed.

"And you don't want me to rob the bank too?" she raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged, and stopped moving.

"I mean, if you can."

"No, I can't! The girls would be upset!"

You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

"How boring."

Neither of you two opened your mouths again to do anything other than moan, since you had returned to what was really important.

The pain soon disappeared, but you still gave her slow pumps just to test how well you could move in and out of her. Haewon was already more than well trained for that practice, and especially for you, so it didn't take long for her ass to adapt to you.

Seconds later you started pumping faster and faster. Inevitably your hands went to her ass, which jiggled with each collision of your pelvis. Haewon stared ahead, between loud moans that went away with the wind as soon as they came out.

Inevitably your hands went to her ass, where you gripped each of her butt cheeks with your fingers. You wanted to destroy her, fuck her as hard as you did in her shower. But the fatigue in your body, accumulated after that long day, prevented you from being as intense as always.

Still, neither of you needed excessive aggressiveness to feel good while you were fucking. Haewon, despite being somewhat explosive at times, never demanded to be fucked hard and dirty all the time; it was enough for her that you used your cock well, and that was that.

Luckily that last thing was something you knew how to do very well, even when your hips and balls demanded a more than well-deserved rest.

Trying not to leave all the work to your hips, you planted your feet on the floor and rose above Haewon's ass. This way you used only your legs while moving up and down as fast as you could, which wasn't too much, but it was enough for her to cum after a minute.

"I'm not done with you yet, Haessal," you gasped, and rested a hand on one of her shoulders as she squealed in pleasure. "Come on, give me another one."

With your free hand you reached under her body to find her pussy. When you reached between her legs your fingers went straight to her clitoris, rubbing it in circles while you fucked her through her orgasm. Haewon responded with a squirm that made her press her cheek against the floor.

Haewon's face was ruby ​​red, as it always was when she was subjected to high levels of pleasure. She was downright adorable, as her round face and cheeks made her look like a fresh tomato. But damn that arched back, that perfect ass up and being fucked, and those sensual moans were hot.

There came a point where your legs also began to weaken, and the sweat began to run down your temples. Sometimes you concentrated to not cum and last longer, but this time you concentrated to do exactly the opposite. Luckily it wasn't too difficult for you; it was enough for Haewon to cum once more for you to do it right after.

You both exploded between moans. You stopped rubbing her pussy and planted your knees on the floor again, as you shot a few spurts of cum into her tight ass. Haewon on the other hand grabbed her own head with both hands, pulling strands of her short hair as she let out whimpers.

You didn't cum as much as you did an hour ago, but enough so that at the moment you came out of her, a small waterfall of thick white liquid spilled out of her dilated butthole and fell to the dark wooden floor.

"Aight, enough for today," you said between labored breaths, and fell backwards on your ass.

"It's not like I'm in the mood for more, you fool," she replied softly, and straightened up to get on her knees. "You've squeezed me out for today."

You let out a laugh.

"I squeezed you out?" you asked in disbelief. "I feel like my dick is going to fall off."

"Oh come on, it was only four times," she supported herself with her hands and with an arduous effort managed to stand up.

“Five,” you corrected.

Haewon whipped around to look at you.

"So you did fuck Sullyoonie earlier, huh?"

You sighed and didn't say anything, you just shrugged since you didn't consider it respectful to admit those things openly.

She clapped her hands and pointed at you.

"I knew it!"

"Of course you knew," you nodded, also standing up as you looked at the mess you had left out there.

"Where it was?" she asked, and took a step forward. "A service room?"

"An empty conference room," you answered without looking at her, more worried about how you would clean everything than anything else. "Now shut up and stay still while I find something to clean up the mess."

You walked inside the house and ran past the front of the hallway to avoid Bae or Sully seeing you. You reached the kitchen and quickly grabbed the roll of towel, under the watchful eye of Rory, who was now sitting on a counter.

"I hope you haven't seen any of that abomination, darling."

After giving the kitten a kiss you returned to the balcony. Haewon looked towards the city, with her arms crossed and leaned on the railing. When she noticed your presence she turned around and leaned on her lower back.

"I see why Sully's cheeks were redder than normal," she said. "She's been kinky lately."

You remained silent and cut several pieces of towel to leave them on the cum stains in different parts of the balcony. Even the chair was stained in places. When they absorbed the liquid, you picked them all up one by one and rolled them into balls.

"You're not going to clean me up or what?"

"Nope, you'll do it yourself while I look for the spray mop."

You didn't let her protest, you simply stood up and left the roll of towel in her arms to go back inside the apartment.

When you went to pass in front of the hallway of the rooms your brain had gone on autopilot, so when the door to your room opened at the end of the corridor you didn't even have time to hide.

Bae, with a towel on her arm, in her panties and in a crop top shirt, immediately fixed her gaze on you. You stood paralyzed, also looking at her and her thin body full of hot curves. She scrutinized you, especially your lower part.

"Uh…" she looked at the floor, and then at the door to her left, which was the guest room.

The risk of her seeing you had completely slipped your mind. It was your house, and you were more than used to all the girls who went there seeing you naked. But Bae had never done it. It had to be, of course, in an uncomfortable situation.

"Nice body," you said, since it was the first thing that came to mind.

Bae looked at you again; she stayed quiet for a few seconds while she detailed you.

"You too."

You both nodded slowly, and then you looked towards the kitchen.

"Well… I'll get a mop," you pointed with your thumb.

"Yeah, sure," she nodded again, and opened the door to the guest room. "I… I'll go get dressed so we can play."

"Sure," you nodded again, and looked at the floor.

You both looked at each other for a few more seconds until each of you continued on your respective path. Then you found yourself with hot cheeks.

Bae was stupidly hot, with a body that looked like it was sculpted by hammer and chisel. But you were forced to get certain images of her out of your head so as not to get horny again.

Still embarrassed, you went to the laundry room and took out the spray mop to return to the balcony. Haewon had already cleaned herself, and she had gathered all the towel balls in a corner to throw them away later.

"I can't believe you let her see you," Haewon giggled as you moped the floor.

You shrugged as you mopped where the chair used to be. That particular floor was always a pain to clean, and this time was no exception.

"Bad timing I guess."

"Do you want me to go get the trash can?"

"No, we can throw the towel over the railing."

"I just don't want anyone to see me!"

You looked up at her and raised an eyebrow, as if wanting to say 'Really?'

"Ugh, right away."

Haewon left you alone for a moment, but returned seconds later with the trash can and an extra mop. Between the two of you, you continued cleaning the balcony and, after about 10 minutes, you left it sparkling as if nothing had happened.

By that point the night was already cold as hell, so you and Haewon went inside and closed the door to the balcony. You went to your room, where you found Sully sitting in the middle of the bed while she watched a video of her on her iPad. She had on her lavender pajama set, and was brushing her hair with Helios asleep next to her.

When she noticed that you came in naked, she looked up.

"Oh, are you done?" she asked, and looked back at her iPad.

"Thank god yes," you gave Haewon a look and turned around to enter through the door that was just at the entrance to the room, which led to the master wardrobe.

"Were you that hard on him?" you heard Sullyoon ask Haewon, while you looked for your clothes.

You pulled out your underwear, a black Celtics tracksuit and a white Puma sweater.

"I wouldn't say that," Haewon replied. "It's not like I forced him."

That wasn't entirely true. You frowned as you remembered how she had manipulated you with the charms you were always weak to. She had slowly dragged you into her web, and although you fell straight, it was all orchestrated by her and her desires.

When you got dressed, you went out and found Haewon already dressed too, in short pajama shorts and a simple t-shirt. She was sitting next to Sully as she caressed the back of the dozing Helios, who was between the two of them.

"Well? Shall we play or what?"

"Yeah!" the two said in unison.

That night's game was a real war.

Sully had been the least of your problems. If you and that girl acted as a team even without meaning to, when the situation called for it you were unstoppable. You bought properties from each other all the time and then exchanged them so you could build.

But Haewon had cared little about your request, and that whole game had been based on her and Bae trying to screw you over.

Bae didn't care about winning, she just wanted to be as annoying as possible to the three of you. On the other hand, Haewon was petty as well as visionary. She made you sweat towards the end of the game, but the winner ended up being Sullyoon, for the simple fact of having invested in all the orange properties at the beginning of the game.

After playing the Monopoly game, the four of you went to the balcony wrapped up warmly and spent the time just eating snacks and chatting. It was around two in the morning when you went back inside to sleep. Haewon and Sully slept with you, while Bae slept in the guest room.

You were usually never the first to wake up; someone was always ahead of you. But for some time now you had gotten into the habit of getting up no later than 9 in the morning. It had happened for several reasons: one of them was to feel like you were making better use of the day, another was to fix your sleeping schedule in general, but the most important thing was to be able to give food to the cats when it was time.

That day you had woken up at 8:30 in the morning. Sully was on your left, and on hers was Haewon, on the side of the bed closest to the window. Both still fast asleep.

Careful not to disturb Sully, you slid out of the blanket and stood up with the phone in your hand; you left it on the floating shelf in front of the bed, which spanned the entire wall to the corner. Then you went to the bathroom, washed your face and teeth, and after taking your phone back, you left the room.

As soon as you crossed the hallway, Helios got off the couch and greeted you with a meow as he approached. Rory came out from behind the kitchen island and jumped onto it to sit, staring at you in complete silence.

"Good morning, my loves," you greeted in a tiny voice, as Helios rubbed his head against your calf. You bent down to pet his back, and he meowed again. "Yeah yeah, I'm coming."

You quickly walked to open all the blinds, so that the apartment was filled with beautiful natural light. Then you went to the kitchen, Helios following close behind. Rory got off the island and stood next to you as you picked up each of their plates from the floor. You put them on a counter and went to the corner of the kitchen, where the huge bag of cat kibble was with a scoop inside. You served a considerable amount on each plate, and amidst desperate meows you put the plates in their places for them to eat.

Their water bowl was still half full, so you didn't consider it necessary to pour more. Instead, after grinding the beans, you set about making your everyday cup of espresso. While it was being done, you went straight to get a box of cereal and a carton of milk for breakfast.

By the time the espresso was ready you had already poured yourself the cereal, so you took the cup with the coffee, put two teaspoons of sugar in it and took it along with the bowl of cereal to the dining table.

Not even five minutes passed when you heard a door open, and then another, probably the bathroom in the hallway. It couldn't be Haewon or Sully; they always used the bedroom bathroom. That only left one option.

After a while you heard the door open again, and seconds later Bae came out of the hallway.

Thank goodness you had already finished a good part of the cereal, because it would have spilled out of your mouth when you saw Bae, again in panties and a crop top shirt. Just like she was in your awkward encounter last night.

"Good morning!" she said, as she raised her arms to stretch them, an action with which she revealed more inches of her perfect, slim torso. You could almost see what was under that shirt, but she lowered her arms immediately.

"Good… morning," you replied, and took a sip of your espresso while between small glances you admired her long legs and her small waist.

"Wah, I really slept deliciously."

She sat next to you, in the chair facing the end of the table, legs crossed in the most attractive way she could choose.

"Yeah, that room is pretty comfortable," you nodded, and took another spoonful of cereal, one of the last. "What are you doing awake this early?"

"Well…" she rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her hand. "It just happened, why?"

"You never get up early."

"But this time it happened, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," you shrugged. "It's just weird. Are you up to something or what?"

Bae was silent for a few seconds while her gaze wandered around the table, in the end she pursed her lips and shrugged.

"In short, you're up to something," you confirmed, and grabbed the cup and the empty bowl to stand up. You went to the dishwasher. "Do you want me to make you something for breakfast? There's cereal, eggs, bread…"

There was no response from her while you were washing the dishes, but you did hear the chair move back. By the time you looked over your shoulder, Bae had already hugged you from behind and pressed herself against you.

You wrinkled your brow, and looked into her eyes with your hands still full of soap.

"May I know what you are doing?"

Bae squeezed you into her arms, and pressed one of her knees to your side. She rested her chin on your shoulder and leaned closer to your ear.

"Oppa…" she lowered her voice, almost to a whisper. "Do you think I have a nice body?"

That's where the shots were going, then. You should have guessed. But in the mornings you were not at your full brain capacity.

"What's that question about?" you looked away, as you now washed the bowl and spoon.

"You seemed delighted about it last night."

She planted a hand on your abdomen, caressing it gently up and down.

"I don't know what you're talking about, honestly."

You left the sponge in it’s place and removed the soap from the dishes with plenty of water.

"No? You were almost drooling…" she whispered. "You fucked me like four times with your eyes."

You couldn't help but let out a sly smile as you set the clean dishes aside. Then you left your hands rested on the edge of the dishwasher.

"I wasn't the only one, as I remember."

"Because you're hot, oppa," she replied with a giggle, and then lowered her hand to rest on your bulge. "And your cock looked… delicious."

Bae began to knead your cock gently, slow and deep movements. You held your breath for a moment, and resisted the urge to turn around and put your hands on her. You wanted to see how far she would go.

"If you wanted to taste it you just had to say so last night," you said, and looked down. Your cock was already getting hard thanks to her hand.

Bae laughed.

"And share you with those two?" Of course not," she said. "If I'm going to taste you for the first time, I have to do it alone."

Bae stopped moving her hand to put it between your sweatpants and boxers. She found yourself with your already hard cock, which she wrapped with her hand and then lowered it to your balls as well.

"Fuck, I don't think all that will fit inside me…" she murmured against your neck, where she placed soft, wet kisses. "My pussy is too tight."

"Oh my god…" you gasped, and let your head fall to the side to give Bae free rein on that side of your neck.

She didn't mince words and pulled down your bottoms to free your cock immediately. Then she stroked it slowly, while she used her other hand to rub your abdomen under your sweater.

Unable to resist anymore you slowly turned around and came face to face with her. You stared into each other's eyes, Bae still with her hand stroking your cock. Then you put your arm around her slender body, pressed her against you, and kissed her.

The way that girl kissed immediately reminded you of Sumin: just as insecure at first, but with a gradual increase in hunger as the seconds passed that led to her attacking your mouth with her tongue, which by the way you could notice that moved in a prodigious way.

The kiss lasted for a few long seconds in which she continued to move her hand up and down your cock, slowly until your precum began to leak between her fingers. You, for your part, had your hand clinging to the side of her torso, which you then moved to caress her back and lowered it again to grab her ass.

That made Bae let out a small moan against your lips and pull away from them. She then looked into your eyes once more, and with her gaze still on them, she fell to her knees with your cock right between her eyebrows.

"I've done this like only once in my life," she said, as she wrapped her fingers around your base. "So don't scold me."

"I'm not going to scold you, Jinsol," you replied. "You know how to use that tongue very well. Just use it and it will be fine."

Bae nodded slowly and stared at the piece of meat in front of her eyes. She looked at it for a few brief moments, as if wanting to decide where to start. She finally decided to comply with your statements, and she planted her tongue on the underside of your cock to lick it up. You gasped and rested your hands on the edge of the dishwasher behind you, while Bae swirled her tongue in slow circles around your tip.

“Fuck, like that…” you pursed your lips. "But- oh fuck…"

Before you could finish your sentence, Bae beat you to it, and fulfilled exactly the suggestion you were about to make: she took you inside her mouth. It was just the tip, but she sucked it gently while she gave it quick licks.

After a few seconds she worked up the courage to take a few more inches and begin pumping her head in calm iterations. She looked into your eyes frequently, making sure you were enjoying every little wiggle of her tongue. Which you certainly did, since such control was incredible.

Once Bae was sure she was doing a good job she relaxed and let herself go. Decision more than beneficial for you, since now she was taking her mouth further and further away, and to your genuine surprise, almost to her throat.

"What the fuck," you moaned, and your forehead wrinkled in pleasure. "How…?"

You didn't even bother trying to find an explanation. Some people were simply born with talent. Apparently Bae knew how to do that just because, and without any effort.

She gave you a few long, slow pumps and pulled you out of her mouth with a slurp at your tip.

"You like it like that?" she asked, moving her hand on your saliva-soaked cock. "I can go faster if you want."

“Oh god no,” you shook your head. "That's perfect," you nodded for her to continue.

Bae then took you into her mouth again and this time she prolonged her gentle, deep blowjob for an incredible two minutes in which you were constantly with your toes curled and your mouth gaping. You would have loved to cum inside her mouth, but you had other priorities right now.

"Alright, get up," you ordered between gasps.

She obeyed you immediately, and as soon as she stood in front of you, you wrapped your arms around her small waist and kissed her again. This time you took complete control, invading her mouth with your tongue while your hands roamed every corner of her tight body. You focused your attention on her lower back and her waist, places you constantly clung to because of how stupidly good they felt under your fingers.

Bae brought her hand back to your cock to try to rub it again, but you stopped her and grabbed both of her arms so she wrapped them around your neck. Then you had free rein to take your hand between her legs and rub her pussy over her bluish panties, which you noticed were wet already.

She moaned against your lips and gripped her fingers in your hair, as she rubbed her thigh against your balls. You then put your hand inside her panties to reach her pussy, which was extremely soft to the touch, and rubbed her clitoris in slow circles.

You separated from her lips and focused now on her long neck, whose pretty skin you filled with wet kisses. Bae let out an adorable, soft moan close to your ear, as you ran your fingers up and down between her folds, which were starting to get soaked.

“Oppa, fuck me already…” she moaned into your ear. "Please."

The only reason you decided not to continue teasing her was because you were almost as in need of it as she was. And how not to be, with that tight and soft body in your arms.

You took a few steps forward with her until you had her lean against the island counter, then you grabbed her waist with your hands and made her sit in the exact same place where last night you had eaten Haewon.

Not willing to waste time you brought your hands to the hem of Bae's panties and quickly slid them off her pretty pale legs. She then spread them wide open, revealing her pretty glistening pussy to you as she stared into your eyes.

You positioned yourself between her legs, and took your cock in your hand to rub the tip of it between her folds. You made a gesture to get inside, but she put a hand on your abdomen.

"Can I do it myself?" she asked, and she bit her lip pointing at your cock.

"Go on then," you nodded.

Bae leaned back, rested her left elbow on the marble surface and took your cock in her hand, rubbing it between her own folds and then bringing it to her entrance, where you gently pushed to insert your tip.

You both let out a small moan, as your cock slowly but surely made its way between her folds. And damn, she wasn't lying when she said she was too tight. For a moment you thought you were going to get stuck halfway, but with a little patience and saliva—literally—you were able to bury every inch of your cock inside that stifling space.

"It looks like every inch did fit inside you…" you smiled, and put your hands behind her knees as you gave her a moment to get used to your thickness.

"It seems so, yeah," she responded between agitated gasps. "But I feel like you're going to tear my cervix, oh my god."

You chuckled, and gripped your fingers on her thighs.

"You'll get used to it."

With that said you began to move back and forth, as slowly as you could at first while giving the tight walls of Bae's pussy time to stretch around your throbbing cock. It was a long and tortuous few seconds, but in the end the pumps became smooth and easy, enough for you to be able to move freely.

Bae couldn't afford to be loud, and she knew it. That's why her moans were so discreet. But her face, painted with a subtle blush, and her sensual expressions said it all. She laid her back flat on the counter, and covered her mouth so she could let out a few louder squeals she had pent up.

You released one of her thighs and left the palm of your hand on her lower abdomen, where you could feel the tip of your cock slightly bulge her skin with each pump, which became faster and stronger with each second.

From her lower abdomen you moved your hand up, to reach under her small cropped shirt and grab one of her tits; they were tiny, but you felt a pair of small, soft, adorable nipples that you pinched with your fingers.

Bae's thigh tensed and trembled under your left hand fingers. She now had both hands covering her face, her back arched and her toes curled so tightly they were red. And then, after a minute of her pussy being rapidly fucked, she exploded with a louder whimper that she was unable to stifle.

The feeling of having her pussy that tight around your cock reminded you of Haewon's thighjobs. It was suffocating, like it was going to squeeze your cock and crush it like a rubber toy. Even you let out a moan as you carefully fucked her.

Bae removed her hands from her face and brought them behind to grip the edge of the counter. Her face was even redder than before, her bottom lip bitten and her eyes squeezed shut. Her spasms made her back twist, and caused tremors in her thighs.

When her orgasm had passed you pulled out from inside her pussy and laid your cock flat against her abdomen. She leaned on her elbows and looked at you between labored breaths.

"Wanna ride me, cutie?" you asked, and caressed her toned abdomen up and down.

She quickly nodded.

"I'd love to, oppa."

"Then come here."

You took a step back and helped her off the counter. Afterwards, you took her hand and guided her to the other side of the room, towards the couch that, thank God, was completely free to use.

The couch had a square area on its left end that looked more like a small bed. You knelt on top of it and crawled until you turned around and placed your back between the cushions, with your legs extended forward. Bae also climbed onto the couch and straddled you, thighs pressed tightly on either side of your hips.

"Can I take that shirt off?" you asked. "It's been bothering me all damn morning."

Bae pressed her pussy against the back of your cock and very subtly ground her hips. She then nodded and lifted her arms, so that you could immediately remove her shirt and leave her completely naked on top of you.

"And me? Can I take that dumb sweater off or what?" she asked, and gave it a couple of tugs.

"It's one of my favorites, have some respect," you replied, and then raised your arms too.

She immediately took your sweater off and tossed it next to her shirt. Her hands planted themselves on your chest, which she slowly rubbed before diving back into your neck with kisses and bites.

Now that you two were completely naked, the rubbing between your bodies and the touching became a sensation as magnificent as fucking. You wrapped both arms around her slim waist and pressed her body against yours, your fingers gripping her flesh firmly. Meanwhile one of Bae's hands slid between your bodies until she reached your cock, which she stroked at the same time she rubbed it with her pussy.

She kept kissing your neck, and she soon focused on your collarbone. She then raised her hips, and straightened your cock to completely impale herself on it again. You let out a moan, but Bae just bit her lip, made you look at her and then kissed you before moving her hips up and down.

Your hands immediately went to her waist and a few seconds later they went down to her ass; Bae's went to your neck, before completely surrounding it with her arms and deepening the kiss. You were the only one moaning against the other's lips, which immediately made you realize that her goal was for you to enjoy it more than her.

She hugged your head and started moving her hips faster, with a skill and smoothness that left you surprised. That girl knew what she was doing, taking your cock all the way in and out of her, with movements that could have easily caused you to unintentionally pull out of her. But hell no, the control she had over her lower body was impressive.

You soon found yourself stunned. The girl you least expected turned out to be the one who rode cock the best of absolutely everyone. That, combined with her tight, toned, curvy body, her tight pussy, her cute round ass, and the sexy changes in her countenance made her a complete menace of a woman.

You couldn't help but moan again and again against her lips, until she had no choice but to break away from the kiss, just to stare at you while you melted with pleasure.

"Do you like the way I ride you, oppa?" she asked, with a cute and innocent tone.

You squeezed both of her buttocks hard and couldn't help but give one of them a little spank out of pure instinct. Then you sank slightly into her couch so that your face was level with her small tits.

"I fucking love it, fuck," you moaned, and put your hands on her back so she could bring her tits closer to your mouth. You took a nipple inside and sucked and licked it.

"Oh yeah?" She let a small moan escape her as you ate her small but delicious tits. "How much?"

"No one has ever ridden me as good as you right now," you gasped, and closed your eyes before letting your head fall back, your mouth half open in an O and your brow furrowed.

“Then fill my tight pussy oppa…” she rubbed your hair, and as if it were possible, she moved her hips even faster and harder. "But hurry up… who knows when those two will wake up."

You didn't even need her to rush you. You were already dangerously close to cumming from the moment she started moving her hips. It took less than a minute for you to put your arms around her waist again in a hug, and then explode inside that dangerous prison called pussy that she had.

Rarely did someone make you moan as uncontrollably as Bae did in that moment. She even had to cover your mouth as she moved her hips slower and felt you shoot your entire immense thick load inside her.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "You came a lot, oppa. And it feels so warm and nice…"

She removed her hand from your mouth and kissed you again. Meanwhile, you again held on to her ass as she slowed down to a complete stop. You two were tasting each other's mouths for a few long seconds, until she raised her hips to take out your cock. The only thing you could feel was the abundant amount of cum falling into your abdomen.

"Do you want a clean?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Fuck, do whatever you want," you sighed, eyes still closed.

Bae got off you and knelt next to you with her ass raised. She brought her face close to your abdomen and didn't hesitate for a second to lick the pool of white liquid from end to end. You opened your eyes and watched in silence as she collected every drop of it with her tongue and swallowed it.

"Since when…?" you wrinkled your forehead. "God, nevermind."

When she finished cleaning your abdomen she then took your cock and repeated the same process, until it was clean and shiny. She then sat back on her heels and looked at you with heavy breathing.

"Can you make me some fried eggs and sausages?" she asked, and tilted her head.

You couldn't help but burst out laughing. That girl was quite a specimen.

"Aha, but get dressed and go get the girls up. I have to get you back a little before 2 because I have to turn on stream early."

"And why don't you do it at night like always?"

"Because I'll meet you at Korea University. Come on, hurry up."

Bae nodded and stood up. You both dressed quickly, and you started making breakfast for all of them while Bae went to wake them up. You ended up taking them at 1 in the afternoon. By the time you got back home, you did your respective 4-5 hour stream and got ready to go to the campus where the girls would be performing that day—which was admittedly quite far from your house.

But you wanted to see your favorite femboy. And on top of that, you could see those tripleS girls up close. Three birds with one stone.

-----------------------------

As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

[chososdiscordkitten]

Kneel.

Synopsis: pt 2 of this fic ^-^

Pairing: Priest!Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: pwp, not as much church stuff as the last one, lots of flirting, breaking church vows, nanami trying to justify his actions as permissible, lots of pleading to his god, hand stuff, rough (?) sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms

Taglist: @eliuriastwo @ingojo

MDNI

It plagued him. The severe tension ran thick every single Sunday after mass. Where you would sit in his office chair- this look of smugness on your expression with the corner of your lip curled as though you were aware of the torment you were inflicting onto him. 

Insinuating conversations of the carnal sins you would confess to—barely even sins— just thoughts that plagued your mind unwillingly. 

Middle of the third time he saw you- the way your eyes dared to sparkle as you confessed the so called disgusting thoughts to him. His mind started putting the pieces together. 

“Cold showers aren’t working anymore, Father. I had to. I had to rid myself of the hellfire that burned in me.” Your lips bordered on smiling as you watched the Father lower his gaze. 

He didn’t know when, but his index and thumb had started toying with the little fly of his zipper, flipping it up and down—something to keep his hands busy as you spoke. 

“I know that must be a sin, isnt it father?” you placed your hands between your knees, leaning over in the slightest and exposing even more of the crevice of your chest to him. His eyes tried to avoid the tempting ploy. 

Little wired glasses on the bridge of Nanami’s nose as his eyes betrayed him- Unwillingly, they flashed down to your breasts, catching himself and looking back up to your face. 

You raised your eyebrows in the slightest, as though you had caught on to his urge to look. 

Nanami cleared his throat, pulling off the little glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “The Bible- says it is, yes. Against the sixth commandment-” Looking back to your expression that seemed even more unbothered than before. 

“If it is a sin,” you whispered, pinching your eyebrows in question of the Father’s faith. “Then why does it help?” 

Nanami cleared his throat for what seemed like the hundredth time in those 30 minutes. “God made us sexual creatures,” he mumbled, trying to make it sound as business-like as he could. 

You let out a little giggle- something that sounded like a siren trying to lure him into a trap. “Then god made me too sexual.”

Nanami inhaled- taking a little swipe at his lip with the tip of his dry tongue, parting his lips and averting his gaze. “How…” he inhaled sharply, “How did it feel?” barely legible, but the words deepened your smirk into something crueler.

A sigh of contentment left your lips, “As though I had chipped away at the temptation in the slightest.” you took a deep inhale- the skin of your chest pressing against the edge of your low cut top and daring to spill. 

“It felt so good, Father. Freeing almost.” You continued, seeing Nanami’s blush spread through his cheeks down his neck in the slightest. 

The thought of how freeing it would feel had he acted as callously as you did in your own desires made the Father realize he needed a freezing shower by the time he went home. He couldn’t give in as quickly as you did. 

His hand halted the little flipping movement on his zipper. Gulping in the slightest and leaning back into his chair- “And your prayers… didn’t help?” trying to change the daring topic he had brought on. 

“If I could be honest, father?” you sat up, pushing your shoulders back and lightly tilting your neck. Collarbones exposed to his nervous eyes with that same self-satisfied smile on your painted lips. 

“Please, be honest.” 

“I think my prayers have caused the opposite effect.” 

Nanami nodded softly, thinking up something else to offer you besides the strained words he practically forced himself to say. 

“Maybe a place in the community?” he asks, thinking that if you and he try to debrief these issues, you’ll get nowhere but a very frustrated priest who just wants to ‘help’. 

He inhaled sharply, opening a little drawer in his desk and reaching for a flier, “Next Sunday, we’re having an Easter event for the children- you could find your place in our community.” 

Placing the little flier onto the wood in front of you, your eyes scanning the colorful sheet with a half cocked smile. “Help serve the food, or just stay for a while. You’re welcome to it.” 

And the following Sunday, you showed up bright and early, sitting through Easter Sunday mass. Noticing that, compared to other times, the Father wore a black short-sleeved dress shirt this time. 

He excused it because he knew it would be hot that day and was getting ahead of an issue before it arose. 

“Excuse me for being so indecent today,” he joked in front of the congregation before continuing his sermon. 

But the little flexes of Nanami’s bicep strained against the tight sleeve of the shirt when he grasped the side of the podium. Or how, with every inhale, his plentiful chest would press against the buttons of the black shirt in strain. 

It made that Sunday even more special. His arms were exposed, and how that shirt was at least a size too small for the man. Tempting. It made you wonder if it was you trying to lure in the tortured man or the other way around. 

And when the service ended- a few stolen glances and raised brows at the stumbling of his words before all the church people gathered at the back of the building. A patch of grass and a few tables covered in colorful plastic tablecloths. 

You did as he asked, served the children and the churchgoers food and waited for them to start their hunt for plastic eggs. And your effort didn’t go unnoticed; the Father would look over every now and then to see you happily serving the people of the church. Glad to see you enjoying yourself.

As though his attempt to help you was finally working- maybe all you needed was community and congregation to rid yourself of the shameless confessions you’ve made in his office. 

But you- now standing on one end of the grass patch, derived from any sort of community the Father thought you were participating in. 

Though it didn’t bother you, making friends with bitter church women was neither your task nor the conquest you sought. 

But when your eyes caught the Father excusing himself from a few people of his parish- dashing into the church’s back entrance- you chose to follow. 

Placing the little cup of lemonade onto the table before walking past the doors the Father had dashed past. Following him to the little cracked door of his office, hearing the light shuffling of papers. 

You knocked twice- pushing the door open to see the Father jump at the sudden noise and the sight of you at his doorstep. 

“You haven’t said a word to me, Father.” you thrummed, stepping into his office and closing the door behind you. Be it the general conquest or how delectable he looked in that tight short sleeve, you wanted to push even further this time. 

He let out a little sigh with a smile, “You’ll have to excuse me- today has been very laboring.” his brows furrowed with stern eyes looking for the pages he swore he left at the very top of a stack of paper. 

“Anything I could do to help?” taking on a sweet tone as you stepped closer to him. 

Nanami let out a little laugh, almost in disbelief. “You’ve done more than enough to help today,” he said, his shoulders stiff from your presence standing at his side. 

“I couldn’t ask for more,” he whispered, feeling your eyes pierce through him as he moved the stack of papers- the cotton around his bicep suffering from the flex of his arms. 

Looking down at his hands. Spreading the papers, tantalizing thick fingers with a prominent vein standing proud at the top of his hand. Swallowing lightly at the image in your mind. 

“I want to help, Father. Tell me how I can assist you.” reaching down to the top of his hand and placing yours atop his- halting its movements and causing Nanami to look over at you as though you were deranged. 

Nanami parted his lips- derailing his train of thought entirely from the seemingly innocent touch. “What are you looking for?” you murmured, lightly caressing your thumb against his skin. 

The first thing that popped into his mind was nowhere near priestly or godly. But he gathered his thoughts and mustered the words. 

“The choir-” he inhaled a choked breath, “They need the lyrics for the service on Wednesday,” he whispered, looking at your low eyes with your hand still atop his. 

“Your parish made you leave an event to look for song lyrics?” you teased- as though that was some lame excuse he made up on the spot. 

Nanami let out a little laugh, pulling his hand from beneath yours and going back to looking for the pages again. “I know,” he mumbled, but you weren’t quite done urging you to be there to help. 

You placed your hand over his again, looking at him with all the earnesty you could muster. “You are such a good priest, father.” picking up his hand from the desk and holding it in both of yours. “If you need help-” and there went the corner of your lip curling with sadistic intent. 

“You can ask for it.” you assured, caressing his hand lightly as his lips parted with an inhale, “You can ask me for it.”

His heart was pounding in his chest—the words themselves weren’t filthy. Were they spoken by anyone else, it would’ve been heard as a simple offer.

But the honey soaked in the way you said it- the sparkle in your eye and the tenderness in which you held his hand. Nanami knew you were not offering an innocent way of assisting him. 

Nanami felt it in his gut. It made his mind fuzzy- made him unable to think coherently. 

It made him forget the white collar around his neck, the years he had spent as a priest and at the center of a church, and his vows—and for the first time in a very long time, his mind wasn’t judging the thoughts that raced inside of it. 

You took a step closer to him—just one step and your chest was mere inches from his. His eyes flashed from your half-lidded ones down to your plush lips. You could feel the little tremble in his palm between your hands.

“I-” he started with an exhale, being able to breathe in the sickeningly sweet aroma of your skin. How it whirred in his mind should’ve been a sin in itself. 

You tightened your grip on his hand, whispering a sweet, “Do you need help, Father?” watching his adam’s apple bob past the white collar around his neck and blinks become hazy. 

The hand atop trailed up his forearm with a ghostly touch, feeling the light goosebumps rise beneath your fingertips. 

It wasn’t till he saw your gaze turn dark- that’s when it clicked in the Father’s mind. That’s when the pieces came together. 

You weren’t some lamb in desperate need of guidance; you weren’t innocent of the invading thoughts that the devil tried to tempt you with. 

‘You were put before me as a test.’ was the one clear thought that broke through the mist in his mind as he looked at you. 

And what he feared most—Nanami knew that if you had continued offering your assistance, he would have failed this test put before him by his cruel god.

Only the sound of a harsh knock startled him from the invading thoughts of what he could do to you in that room—or what you would have done to him had nobody interrupted. 

A parish member cracked the door open- “Father, have you found the-” halting their entry as they looked at the sight before them. Furrowing their eyebrows before Nanami cleared his throat- pulling his hand from yours again. 

“I’m afraid I’ve lost them entirely- I’ll reprint them tomorrow morning.” his tone stern and clear as the parish member nodded- unsure of Nanami’s words as you stood there. 

You flashed a small smile at the parish member- “Father, the deaconess is looking for you.” they continued. 

Only you crossed your arms beneath your breasts and rested back onto the edge of the Father’s desk- too smug for what they had just witnessed. 

“Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

Hesitatingly, the parish member closed the door and left. Leaving you and the Father in a devastatingly thick with tension room. You placed a hand onto his upper bicep- the same bicep that had been tempting you for the entire service. 

“I’m available anytime you need me, Father,” you whispered before you left the troubled man alone in the room. Your touch lingering on his bare skin as he placed his hands flat onto the surface of the desk. 

The very same desk he was picturing you bent over in his mind a mere few seconds ago.  

His hands were clammy against the surface, an ache rowling in his tummy as he closed his eyes and tried shaking away the thoughts of your breasts daring to spill from the low cut neckline of your dress. 

Or how tight the fabric looked pressed against your hips when you walked away from him. 

In the end Nanami was still a man with eyes- not even a priest could control their wandering gaze. 

He wanted to tell you- he needed to say to you that he couldn’t help you anymore. That little arrangement after Sunday mass, where you would lure him in with descriptions of the proclivities taking place late at night, couldn’t happen anymore. 

Nanami was sure that the next time he saw you, he would tell you to get out of his church and find someone better suited to your troubles. 

Yet he sat there again, twiddling his thumbs to avoid the urge to reach for his zipper. 

A week of cold showers were, as you said- they didn’t fucking help. On mornings when Nanami would wake up with urge bursting from his boxers or by just remembering the sweet tinge the air had once you left- the appendage between his legs would twitch in betrayal. 

The realization that you were a test made him even more intrigued, as though it pushed him further into your clutches. He was desperate to know if he would succeed in this test his god put before him. 

And sitting in that chair, hearing you speak of the filth that raged in your mind without shame. 

A feigned chime of disappointment in yourself when you fell back into the temptation again, but this time, Nanami saw it was false. That the slight curl your lips had wasn’t a defense mechanism; you found humor in the trouble inflicted on him. 

As though you could smell the fear in his very soul from the chance of succeeding in enticing him. 

And yet, Nanami still sat there listening. A masochistic churn in his brain had him listen to every temptation. 

“You’ve never felt this way, Father?” you whirred, the amused look in your eyes masked by the fanning of your lashes. “As though you started something you couldn’t stop doing?”

Yes, he did know the feeling. He knew once he met you he wouldn’t have been able to stop seeing you- speaking to you. Even if you were trying to bewitch him, he knew in his mind he wouldn’t be able to stop saying yes to your requests for these sessions. 

“Has it helped?” He murmured, straightening his back and interlocking his hands. 

You let out a little giggle, “If anything- it hasn’t. But I can't stop.” taking a little nibble at your bottom lip, “It makes me crave more.” That was the sentence that made Nanami look at you more dangerously than before- 

Now, Nanami knew you needed more, and you didn’t care to stop the urges. 

Keeping a low tone, “I yearn for more.” you spoke- clearly so he could hear. Nanami gulped, tingles rushing into his cheeks making his brain nervous. “For the warmth of another person.” 

Nanami had to bite his tongue- pretend he heard your thoughts as a church priest and not as a man. 

“I’m sure you’ve never felt this way Father. You’re an extraordinary priest- It must be jarring to hear my inner monologue.” You spoke softly, so sure he would agree.

Nanami inhaled, “Not at all. Life as a priest is very lonely.” he smiled, his mouth dry at the words that dared rumble in his mind. “I’ve found myself craving the warmth of another person before. It’s normal.” 

Except it fucking wasnt- not for a man with as much ressolve as he did. Not once in those ten years of being in the priesthood did he find himself craving warmth to surround and twitch around him as badly as he did now. Especially now. 

And when the time came to walk you out of his office, you stood at his desk. 

He took the place next to you in the very spot he pictured you bent over in before. Standing the very same way you were the last Sunday you were in his office. 

Only this time- there was no chatter outside his window from the event. In that church it was only you and him. 

And as though you knew, you looked into his eyes, testing the space between you, leaning in mere millimeters at a time. 

And the Father, tormented by the choice of stepping back or falling into the temptation you had to offer. Your lips parted as you gazed into Nanami’s eyes, his jittery and nervous pupils trying to figure out if you were getting closer or if he was just crazed enough to picture it.

“Can you help me, Father?” you whispered, raising your hand to his bicep and touching it lightly. 

His lips were agape- inhaling as much air into his dry mouth as he thought of the words to say. The only ones he could process; “How?” 

Your nose no more than an inch from his- you inhaled, a fire burning in your tummy and pooling between your legs at his dissolve. “Touch me.” was all you could whisper before he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to yours.

Warmth. The warmth of a human he had craved for days now pressed against his lips made his shoulders shiver. Raising his hands from his side and placing one as lightly at the side of your neck. The other lacing behind your back and pressing against the little curve above your bottom. 

His lips took a gentle approach- slotting them with care against yours as his hands urged you to rest on the edge of his desk. 

Burning in his loins was an ache- an ache that grew with the haste he made in slipping his tongue past his lips and against yours. Leaving behind any last reservation he had to stop this before it went too far. 

Whispers of groans took form of small whimpers as your hands dragged down his torso and guided his hips to rest between your thighs. Never did he appreciate how good this felt before- the feeling of tongues slathering against each other and being able to taste you on his tongue. 

Never in his days before becoming a priest did he appreciate the feeling of warm plush skin beneath his hands, the hand on the small of your back lowering to the clothed swell of your ass and taking a desperate grip. 

The one on your neck lowering to your chest- cupping his hand on the side of your rib with his thumb curled at the bottom of your breast. 

Nanami knew that he could come undone from just this- no stimulation to the leaking with excitement mess in his black slacks, just his hands full of plentiful skin and his lips busy with feeling the muscle of your tongue swirl against his. 

But your hands roamed down to the buckle of his belt, being able to feel his ache press against your thigh. Nanami pulled his lips from yours begrudgingly- “I can’t-” he breathed, slowing your moving hands and hearing his plea. 

“I can’t.” he closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows; only one of your hands reached up to his neck, pulling his head onto your shoulder with your lips at the perfect angle of his ear. 

“You are a good priest,” you whispered, placing a light kiss on his cartilage and continuing your other hand in slowly unbuckling his belt. The tips of your fingers softly grazing the short blonde hair of his undercut. His hands went unmoved from your clothed skin as he fought the mental battle. 

You placed another soft kiss on his warmed ear, “Tell me how long it’s been since you rid yourself of the poison, Father.” you whispered, undoing the button of his slacks slowly as his breath grazed against your collarbone. 

“Far too long.”

You licked your lips at the image of how much seed he’ll spurt- undoing his zipper at an agonizing pace, “Tell me to stop and I will.” you murmured, your breath tickling his ear as your hand rested on his hip. Waiting for his permission. 

Nanami swallowed harshly; his hands had a bruising hold on your skin as you offered what he yearned for on a silver platter. 

“Please,” he whispered, not knowing what he was pleading for.

A little exhale with a giggle grazed Nanami’s ear, “I need to hear you say it.” you whispered, the hand on your button roaming down the side of your thigh and grazing the hem of the skirt you wore. 

“Please touch me.” he whispered- your hand trailed to the band of his briefs, his breathing hitching against your skin with a mean grip formed on your thigh. 

The gasp that left his lips bordered on a whimper as your fingers dipped into his briefs, being able to feel how hard he was immediately. Wasting no time in pulling out his strained desire as he held you closer, bracing for what he had asked for. 

Taking a light hand as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft- heavy and hot in your palm as he inhaled sharply. “You are a good man, Father,” you whispered, starting slow strokes at his crying cock. 

“You deserve to be helped,” 

“To be touched.”

His strained cock threatened to release his mess right then and there- the scent of you filling his nose with the slow strokes of your wrist, added with your assuring words; Nanami swore he was about to. 

But your hand didn’t let him, cutting your strokes short right before you could roll over his cockhead. Opening your mouth and placing your lips onto his neck, lightly lapping at the skin- his groans deepening in response.

Pulling his forehead from your shoulder, pressing his lips onto yours again in urge- Nanami wanted to do as you had asked. He wanted to touch you. But his hands couldn’t focus on anything other than groping at whatever body part he could find. 

His lips moving in unpatterned movements against yours- speeding up the pace of your hand and feeling his groans rumble onto your lips. Your eyes half-lidded and watching the little sheen of sweat form at his blonded hairline. 

Amused at how worked up he was from a few strokes- but your hand isn’t moving fast enough for him. Nanami started bucking his hips into your hand with urge. His balls clenched as he felt the estranged feeling of an orgasm build. 

His nose huffed out strained breaths as his kisses became sloppy, tightening the grip of your hand and watching his brows pinch together. Pulling his lips from you and letting out a drawn out groan. 

Nanami’s hips stuttering as his orgasm rolled over him in hot waves. Oozes of his seed coating your fingers with every thrust he made. And it was so fucking much- it made you regret not hiking your skirt up and taking it inside wether than on your hand.

His breathing was coarse as your wrist assisted in riding him down, kissing softly at your exposed collarbone as his still-hard cock pulsed in your hand. Making you wonder just how backed up he really was. 

As though his hand heard your thoughts, they reached down to the hem of your skirt and started hiking it up. You looked into his eyes—dark and full of want, with a goal shimmering in them. 

Smiling softly, “Father-” you teased, feeling his strong hands grip your bare thighs before roaming back to the little zipper of your top and undoing it slowly, wasting no time in unclasping the band of your bra along with it. 

Pulling back and looking at you- bare and as he had pictured you. 

Nanami didn’t have a thought in his mind- completely mush and with only one goal in mind. Guiding you to lay back on the desk, his hands roaming down to your thighs- being able to see the growing dark spot of your lace panties. 

Your skirt bunched up at your hips as he reached a hand up to his collar. Pulling it off and closing his eyes with a small exhale. Undoing the top button of his black dress shirt and feeling his cock pulse. 

His lips moved in a soft whisper- almost in a prayer. But his hands trailing to the damp center of your lacy panties told you that prayer isn’t working. 

Nanami didn’t pray for the strength to stop- he didn’t want to. He started the prayer of forgiveness knowing that he didn’t want to stop. Some kind of assurance that the sooner he started begging for forgiveness, he would be pardoned. 

A soft gasp left your lips as he traced his middle and index finger up your damp cunt. Looking at the enticing sight with his mouth watering, lightly circling the tips of his fingers onto your perched clit as you hummed. 

His other hand going to his cock- pained and daring to run red from the neglect. You bit your lip softly at the sight, his hair disheveled and an unashamed blush on his cheeks. 

Stopping his prayer and looking at the painting hung on the wall in front of him- a saint looking at him in disgust. He waited a second- as though he was waiting for the voice of his god to come thundering down.

But it didn’t- “Forgive me.” he muttered, placing his fat cock onto your slit. His heavy shaft resting against your clit with a little sigh. 

Bucking his hips with soft grunts as your warmth radiated on the underside of his cock. Frotting his cock against you- another way of justifying his sinning. He wasn’t actually fucking you- so it didnt count right?

But every whimper and moan your lips would make, added with the feeling of his heavy cockhead bumping against your clit made it fucking tempting. As fast as the first orgasm build in his tummy- the second one came even quicker.

And he knew he could hold it- no matter how many thrusts his cock brushed against your cunt with vulgar squelches- Nanami was determined to wait.

But the smile on your lips at the lack of resolve curled into a wicked smile: “Put it inside—please, Kento.” The one time you had said his name—what kind of man was Nanami to deny you such a request?

He pulled his cock from your slick with various strings of your arousal as he angled his tip with your entrance. 

Nanami’s face was troubled, as though he was still hesitating. “Just the tip,” you whispered, smugly knowing he barely had the resolve to hesitate. He would listen to you. 

He gulped with a little grunt, placing his tip at your slick entrance and gasping at the sheer warmth. You hummed lightly when his hips finally pushed in the slightest, pushing past the seal of your cunt with a moan soaked with bliss. 

Unable to remember when he felt such pleasure that made him want to say thank you. 

And as though your cunt was trying to suck him in- his hips didnt stop, “I’m sorry.” he whispered, sinking himself into you and planting a hand onto the wooden desk, allowing himself to lean over on top of you with a drawn out moan. 

You let out a light hiss at the sting of his girth- placing your hands on his back and holding onto him as he stayed still. 

His shoulders trembling and his hips urgent in moving. Even if it was you who was making him go mad- Nanami still had the decency to allow you time to adjust. 

Your breasts pressed against his chest as you waited for his hips to start moving. But he didnt want to, as though having his cock inside of you was still permissable, but the movement of fucking you wouldn’t be. 

“Move-” you hummed, hands braced against the back of his dress shirt with your velvet walls twitching around him- pleading at the Father to give you what you wanted. 

Nanami only let out a shaky breath- “I can’t,” similar to a little sob but laced with a grunt. Your lips pressed against his temple, brushing them against his ear with a smile. 

“Give me what I want.” Whispered and invaded his ear as his grip on the desk turning his knuckles white. “I want this Kento-” you whined, trying to convince him to move- to fuck you like you knew he could. 

“I want you.” 

Nanami groaned at the little clench your walls made around him- “I can feel you trembling-” kissing his ear with a little damp spot left in wake. “Just pull out of me- then push back in.” feeling his hips follow your guidance as though you controlled them.

He whimpered in a breath at the sensation, “Doesn’t that feel good?” you hummed, digging your fingers into his back in the slightest. 

And it did- it felt like heaven on earth for Nanami. And as though he couldn’t control it- he did it again. As slowly as he could, with his tip brushing your gspot on every drag of his cock. And every slow thrust he made- grinding his pelvis against your clit from how deep he was pushing himself in. 

You only whimpered at the slow thrusts- being able to feel the hesitance in the pushes Nanami made. 

One side of him kept the appearance of being kind, making sure to make this about you, whereas the other side of him was yelling at him, pleading with him to speed up- faster and faster. 

Fuck into you as you had been begging him to from the moment you first walked into his church. 

You laced your lips with his again. Had his hands had any more strength, they would have cracked the wood of the desk from how desperately he was gripping. 

Barely able to withstand the sluggish strokes he made- as slow as you had instructed him to. But you pulled your lips from his, want and demand in your eyes as he looked at you- completely broken down and yours in that moment. 

“Fuck me-” you whimpered, watching the urge to make this about you dissipate behind his eyes. 

With one drag of his cock- he jabbed back into you. And again and again- rougher and with intent as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. 

Nanami didn’t even know what words spilled from his lips- laced with grunts and the crude plapping of his heavy, full balls slapping against your ass. Pleads for nothing in particular- ‘Please, please-’ 

Apologies muttered into your ear for having his way with you, ‘I’m sorry- m’sorry.’

“I have to- I have to-” muttered between his grunts as a mantra to keep him sane.

His frustrations with the chaos you caused in his mind aided in drilling into you with mean thrusts- your whimpers full of content and moans littered with one more request of him- “More.”

And he gave you as much as he had- Nanami had given himself up to you entirely and was fucking glad to do it. His tortured mind had metamorphosed into pure bliss, with his body buzzing in sheer excitement for his second orgasm. 

Grunts with one question- “Can I-” barely legible and laced with the sounds of vile squelching coming from where you linked with him. “Inside,” huffed in the same breath as a groan. 

You huffed a happy exhale- glad he wanted to spill himself inside of you. 

“F-fill m-” was all you managed before he took on a rougher pace- pounding into you as though he was made for it. His skin burned beneath the black clothing and pressing his lips onto yours again. Barely able to kiss you- pearly teeth clashing against yours at every turn of his head. 

The joint groan that left you both when he halted his thrusts- burrowed deep inside of you as your walls clenched around him. Shallow pumps were all he gave before searing, thick seed spilled inside of you. 

Shakingly breathing against your lips as he eased down the pinnacle of his second orgasm. Thinking the realization of what he had done would hit him like thunderous fear- but it didn’t. 

In the moment of the afterglow bliss, Nanami didn’t care what happened after this. He knew in his marrow that this was worth it—you were worth it. 

Even if he had failed the test sent down by his god, Nanami knew he would never have found anything or anyone that gave him half as much serenity. 

Not in the years he had spent in the priesthood did he find half as much peace as he did now. Balls deep in the coated walls of your cunt in the office meant for a godly man. 

That’s what peace was to Nanami at that moment. 

-

(a.n) this was very hot to write ^-^

[cherrychilli]

18+

Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, friends to lovers, mentions of nudity, brief mention of masturbation (m). Basically, Eddie finds you sleeping naked in his bed.

A/N: Idk I've had this idea in my head for too long now and I need to exorcise it out of me with this little drabble or I'll never be able to get on with my life.

Forest Hills trailer park wasn't your usual stop after clocking out of work but after the day you’ve had you don’t have it in you to wait for the next bus back to your apartment. Your place is 30 minutes away but the journey is sure to take even longer in the current downpour.

Staying over at the trailer wasn't anything new. A spare key was entrusted to you years ago and you made use of it on days like this to crash at Eddie’s for convenience sake. The key came with the promise that you were welcome to anything you needed even if both Eddie and Wayne were away – shower, food, an extra change of clothes, what have you, and you needed them all today.

With Wayne out of town for a few days and Eddie due back in two hours you sink into auto pilot, weary down to the bone from your shift. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel as weird as it probably should when you started to undress in their kitchenette, hanging your work clothes over the back of a nearby chair, rummaging through the fridge in your bra and panties for a quick bite to eat before heading for the shower.

There wasn’t much in it besides beer since Wayne hadn’t been around to stock it. Eddie always preferred ordering take out over getting groceries – something you were going to nag him for again when you had the strength to do so.

Cereal it would have to be.

You located a box inside one of the cupboards, tipping the wheaty, sugary contents straight into your mouth without bothering with a bowl and spoon. It’s not lost on you how similarly you’re acting to Eddie right down to the unruly state of half undress, wiping crumbs off your lips with the back of your hand. If you finished off with a belch it'd be like he never left the trailer this morning.

The messy mouthfuls of cereal prove enough to silence the toad’s croak of hunger that'd been gurgling noisily inside your belly, putting the box away.

Traipsing through, feet dragging, you threw your clothes into the washer next along with your underwear, completely nude now in the Munson trailer as you made your way to the shower – but not before reaching out for Eddie's Garfield mug that sat on a nearby shelf, turning it around so that the cartoon cat's lazy smirk no longer faced you. For your modesty.

You try to keep the shower brisk, not wanting to use up all the hot water but with the way it sprays down on your aching body, the steam and heat combo soothing your poor sore muscles, it’s so blissful that you have to keep yourself from nodding off right there.

You did make use of Eddie’s body wash, some spicy, woodsy smelling thing in a jet-black bottle but you didn't dare use the two in one shampoo that sat in their shower caddy. It might have worked fine for Eddie and his wild mane but you knew better than to apply the stuff to your own hair. Fortunately, experience had taught you to carry a travel sized bottle filled with your own shampoo whenever you stayed over, working over your locks in a lather scented with cranberries and vanilla.

Stamina depleting by the second, toweling off and brushing your teeth takes the last sliver of energy out of you. Eyelids slipping, movements sluggish, limbs feeling too heavy for your own body to hold up – you’re shutting down whether you like it or not.

Dropping the damp towel on his bedroom floor, you intended to change, you really did. You’d even picked out one of Eddie’s washed t-shirts and a pair of boxers out of the laundry and set them down at the foot of the bed to put on before you made yourself comfortable but that’s not what happened.

Still nude, you crawl into bed, seeking warmth and soft comfort, numbed down to a kind of tunnel vision with rest being your one and only goal.

It feels all the more natural because you’re used to sleeping naked in your own bed, much too tired to remember that you’re not in your bed, draping a blanket that doesn't belong to you over your spent body, surrendering to sleep seconds after your head hits the pillow.

It'd still been raining when Eddie returns later. Dragging himself through the trailer, nearly as worn down as you had been, shaking the excess water out of his hair like a dog trying to get dry.

The smell of your shampoo still lingering in the air tells him you're there, finding you curled up in his bed, all bundled up to your neck. The sight makes him smile.

It doesn't take too long for him to join you, following a similar routine – a quick bite with the addition of a beer and then a shower, only he doesn't skip out on clothing himself in his PJ's first.

If he’d shared the blanket with you he might have found out about your lack of dress sooner but as the gentleman that he can sometimes be, he pulls out a spare blanket from the closet so as to not wake you, prolonging the discovery. Being friends for so long meant that sharing a bed was never awkward even after you'd became adults.

That was until the next morning came.

It’s not the stream of morning light brightening from a cool blue to a warm amber peeking in between the curtains that wakes Eddie, or even the tinny smack of his neighbor’s broken screen door gusting open just a few feet away from his bedroom window. It’s the warmth of your ass pressed flush against his crotch and his nose nestled in your sweet-smelling hair that pulls him out of a dream he wont be able to recall later if he tried.

He shifts closer, eyes cracking open, remembering the tiny bottle of shampoo sitting on the bathroom counter. Remembering the new toothbrush placed in the cup next to his own. Remembering the powder blue towel that neither he nor Wayne ever used laying on his bedroom floor.

And then he remembers that he’s not alone.

Oh...

And then he wishes that he was.

Panic snaps up like a beartrap around Eddie when he realizes he's hard – his thick, throbbing erection pressed right up against your body.

Growing clammy, cold sweat beads on the back of his neck but he’s in luck because you haven’t noticed yet, still sound asleep.

This close together, he knows the slightest movement could rouse you. But what was the alternative? Wait it out? Hope to hell his boner goes away? Fat fucking chance. Not when the soft swell of your ass and your body heat alone had him questioning how he could ever go back to his calloused fist after this.

Carefully, desperately, he tries to inch back without waking you but just as he feared, you begin to stir. Your back arches instinctively, seeking out his warm, solid frame even in your sleep.

Shit shit shit.

The covers slip as you shift, your bare shoulders coming into view, eyes starting to flutter open. With no other option, Eddie swiftly rolls on to his back, his hard on no longer pressed up against you but the problem persists.

“Oh, morning”, you greet him through a yawn, pulling an arm out to rub at your eyes, blanket slipping lower but the frantic boy hasn’t noticed yet, too busy whipping his pillow out from under him to place over his lap.

“Uh-hey. Shower’s free if you wanna go first”, he offers quickly, smiling hard, hoping to subtly usher you out because he's too afraid to get up and risk you getting a load of the tent in his pants if he were to go ahead of you.

“Thanks”, you yawn again, still occupied with rubbing at your sleepy eyes to notice your best friend's pale face turning beet fucking red in an instant as you clamber out of bed, blankets no longer concealing you.

Eddie doesn’t know where to look first. His eyes dart everywhere, every bare inch of you on display. So much soft, naked skin it’s making him short circuit.

His gaze eagerly travels over the slope of your breasts as they jiggle gently with your movements, taking in your soft nipples, moving down over your belly and hips, noticing a few new freckles and beauty marks there along the way to the soft curls between your legs.

His erection digs into the pillow, brain dangerously close to fizzing because he’d been pressed up against you like that all night and not even known it.

A shiver works its way through you, making you question why it feels so drafty in his room all of a sudden. You turn back to ask Eddie if there’s anything wrong with the heating, catching the shocked expression on his face.

Looking down, you're met with the sight of your nude body, breasts bare, no underwear. It's a good thing the occupants of the trailer park liked to mind their own business, even if sometimes you thought they did so to a fault because in any other neighborhood your piercing screech would have had everyone within earshot dialing up the cops.

The scream ricochets off the walls at an ear ringing volume, causing Eddie to jolt and lose his balance, falling out of bed while you leapt back in. Grabbing his spare pillow, you press one half against your chest and squeeze the rest between your thighs to shield yourself.

Now he slaps his hands over his eyes.

---

More than anything, you try so hard to push it aside. To pretend that it hadn't happened but it looms over you like a cloud on the brink of bursting with rain.

After three whole days of walking around eggshells around each other it's Eddie who breaks first.

"I can't stand this I don't know what else to do, Can we just talk about it please?"

“Eddie…", you sigh, a gentle warning.

"So what if I saw you naked? you saw my boner!...sort of. I mean, I guess that doesn't exactly make us even but it has to count for something, right? you're not alone in this"

You immediately set your wide eyes on the only other patrons in the diner to see if they’d overheard – two older women swapping pictures of their grandchildren over coffee and cheesecake. When neither of them take a pause in the middle of cooing about little Tommy's third Birthday or little Emily's first day of Kindergarten you redirect your attention back to Eddie.

“Eddie! Keep your voice down!”, you whisper shout at him from across the booth. "There are literal grandmother's here!"

He rolls his eyes. Not mean spirited, just unconcerned by the ladies and what they may or may not have overheard.

And then, even though no one’s paying either of you any attention, you lean closer over your half-finished key lime pie, one hand shielding the side of your face like you’re trying to avoid getting recognized by an ex who’s just walked in.

"I'm so embarrassed...please can we just drop it?", you plead, voice hushed.

He gives you this look of mild incredulity. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me", and the inflection in his tone almost gives him away, prompting him to double back immediately.

The last thing he wants is for you to feel more uncomfortable than you already do. So he doesn't need you to catch on that he's got every moment of your unintended strip tease memorized. Or that he likes to replay what he's since thought of as the best 10 seconds of his life over and over again when he's fucking his fist in the shower.

“I just mean that it's nothing to be embarrassed by. It could have happened to anyone. Who among us hasn’t napped in just their birthday suit before, am I right?” he finishes with a slight wince, knowing none of this is exactly helpful.

And you know he’s only trying to be nice in his own, sweet, bumbling way but you still feel terrible.

"I don't know if I can shake this feeling", you cast your eyes down, looking too close to despondent for his liking.

"Listen I- I don't know how to fix this but I want to. Please just tell me what I can do and I'll do it, okay?"

God, he's sweet and it makes you feel a little flustered being on the receiving end of that gentle stare, needing to shift the mood lest you drown in all that earnestness pooling in his eyes.

It's moments like this that call for a bad joke to cut the tension, right? some momentary and well meaning deflection before you're ready to address the matter at hand again.

Letting out a half hearted laugh, you make your best attempt to inject some humor into the situation.

"I don't know. Maybe it might help if you got naked too", you nervously scraped your fork against the buttery graham cracker crust of your pie, dislodging a few golden crumbs.

It was so very clearly a joke. At least you had thought so. Eddie? not so much.

His brown eyes go wide, looking scandalized, his voice coming out a little more quite than you're used to.

"What?"

"I mean, I showed you mine after all", you tried again in a cadence that was wholly unserious but once again, he fails to catch on.

"You want me to get naked for you?"

You should correct him and you mean to but before you're able to do just that, something about the way he's staring at you makes you want to match his seriousness. The fact that he didn't say no right away strikes you as weirdly intriguing.

"You don't have to", you clarify, adding, "It's just that – well, you asked and I think it could maybe help? to really get us on even ground?”

The words that come out don't feel like you own – foreign to your ears even though they're said in your voice, with your own lips forming them and your own tongue curling around every syllable.

What the hell am I doing?

Eddie pauses. Seconds drag on like nails on a chalkboard as he taps a ringed finger thoughtfully on the edge of his empty plate smudged with faint traces of cream cheese and lime zest.

"Fine. On one condition", he leans back, arms crossing over his chest, smiling wide and megawatt bright.

Oh my god is this really happening?

“...Yeah?”

"You're going to undress me"

---

Part two? who knows. Certainly not I.

[optimist-pine]

Bodyguard

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive

Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone

Era: Season 1, the Quarry

Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...

The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.

Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.

He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.

"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.

"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.

You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.

He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.

"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.

He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.

"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.

He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."

"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.

---

Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."

He simply grunts in response.

Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.

When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.

He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.

You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."

"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.

"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."

You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.

"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.

As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.

You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.

"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.

The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.

"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.

He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.

When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.

You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.

You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.

"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"

You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.

"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.

Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.

"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.

You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.

You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."

You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.

A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.

You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.

"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."

And you grin.

---

Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.

[ohmygraves]

the first time you and ghost became roommates, he didn't have a lot of things.

he had his essentials, packed in a duffel bag and like, two moving boxes and that's it. he didn't even have his own furniture or pots and pans, so the two of you didn't cook for the first few weeks living together. he seems perfectly content with just living with the furniture that came with the apartment, an old beat up sofa and dirty stained dining table, together with a few chairs and old mattresses in each bedroom. you made it a goal to get rid of the smelly bed as soon as possible, working your arse off to afford new beds for the sake of your back.

ghost, or well, simon, don't feel the need to own too many things. he thinks it's a nuisance, since well it'll be tiring to pack so many things when he needs to move again for some reason or another. even when he stayed in the barracks, his room was always the most bare out of everyone.

you were the opposite, of course. you liked having lots of personal items and memorabilia, or just trinkets that you like in general. your shared flat is full of your items, posters hung up on the wall, framed pictures, potted plants, consoles and books, whatever you have. it felt like the place was only occupied by you, and with how often simon was away on deployments and missions, it might as well be.

you both split duties when he's around. you cook, he does dishes. you take out the trash, he cleans the bathroom. you tidy things up and he'd mop/vacuum it. he insisted that you cook since he's not much of a cook himself (which, explains why he doesn't have a single kitchen utensils in his stuff) and that you're better at cooking than him. he'd gladly deal with all the dirty jobs for you, wouldn't be the worst thing he did anyway.

you and simon get groceries separately (his "groceries" consisting of some type of booze and maybe toiletries, perhaps some snacks if he's feeling fancy), but very rarely you go together with him to tesco or something. you always have to remind him to note whatever things needed to be replaced at your shared flat, so that you don't have to go multiple times just to get a bottle of dish soap or toilet paper.

you two bicker like an old married couple sometimes, because he's a smart ass and would tease you, and you'd get mad at him for eating your things or using your soap/shampoo.

sometimes you wondered if rooming with simon was a bad idea, but he had always made sure to keep your job easy for you except for a few minor inconveniences he did on purpose just so you'd scold him. he helped move furniture and do the heavy jobs for you, and not to mention he leaves you alone, never nosy or get too friendly with you. although at the same time, he expected you to do the same for him.

if he tells you when he's coming back after missions, you'd get him a treat when he gets home, some beer already chilling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks on the counter, together with his favorite takeout dinner (of course, you'd ask for the money back. you're not made of money if you're rooming with someone). some snarky note like "shower first before you sleep, stinky" or "it's 30 pounds for everything, you're welcome".

simon didn't think much of it, but he definitely took you for granted. you're a nice roommate, you two get along, and you're a great cook. you made sure to feed him whenever possible (because you're convinced he'd actually forget to eat when he's alone, considering his groceries as mentioned before), and not to mention you made his masks and balaclava smell nice and clean when you do laundry.

you'd patiently help him sew, teach him how to mend his clothes when he has the time (which is still a funny sight seeing how small the needles looked between his thick massive fingers). he always gets frustrated, telling you that you did a much better job than his lousy stitches that wouldn't even hold up after one wear. you'd sew all tears and holes on his masks and clothes, patch the holes up when you could.

in return, he'd bring some of your favorite snacks home. he always said something along the lines that it was on sale, or that it's buy one get one free, but you noted that he always brought home your favorite things after you mended his clothes, or helped him in some way. you didn't mind, you liked the snacks and it's nice that he shows his gratitude in this way.

you try to ignore the thumping of your heart every time he hands you things while saying "reckon you'd like this."

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: some nsfw

♡ fem reader

Thinking about what a dumb party girl you are and the poor loser who's stuck tutoring you in all the classes you skip.

You were one of those people who believed everyone to be her friend. The type that went shopping a lot and hung at the mall more days than you bothered showing up to class – a bit of an airhead.

He’d call you a bimbo, but you’re not really known to sleep around – something about finding the right guy.

You opened the door with a smile, “Hi, welcome! Come in~” and pulled him inside by his arm. “I just got out of the shower, so I haven't really gotten dressed – hope you don’t mind!”

You’re in pink from head to toe – a bit excessively, like you’d gone shopping in the little girl’s section, only… you don’t have a little girl’s body… and that top and those shorts are a little too tight on your curves.

“Doesn’t really matter what you wear as long as you got your books.” He answers nonchalantly – as though he isn’t trying hard not to make out the outline of your cunt where it’s cupped so tight in unfairly thin cotton.

“Okay then~” You giggle, interlocking your fingers with his before turning around and leading him in.

His eyes go to the crease of your asscheeks as soon as you turn around, looking at where they peek out from under your bootie shorts – plump squeezable fat jiggling on every peppy step you took in your fluffy bunny slippers as you pull him into the private comfort of your room.

“My parents are out of town, but they left money for pizza – or whatever else you might want~”

You were all alone?

He doesn't know if he likes that or not. Blind trust. Don’t you realize how much bigger he is than you? Doesn’t it cross your mind at all how you’d have to call the police if he decided he didn’t want to leave at the end of the night?

“Pizza’s good.”

You smile, plopping down on your bed. “Okay then, mister Tutor~” Everything in your room is pink as well. “What do you have in store for me?”

You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Gives the wrong impression. You’re lucky he isn’t a bad guy.

“Where’s your books?”

You look a little puzzled for a moment – as though it was an unprompted question. “Right! Uhm…”

You kneel down in front of your bed and drag a dusty stack of textbooks from underneath.

“Here.”

He raises a brow at you.

“Have you ever even opened them?”

You giggle again. “I’ve written my name on the inside like a good girl~”

He struggles hard not to swallow the tightness in his throat – feeling a twitch in his pants at the sight of you sitting on the floor like that.

“Well, it’s a pretty name.”

You look a little disappointed – or maybe it’s just in his head.

In any case, you rise from the floor and sit down in one of the chairs by the desk, which he’d guess had never held any book other than a magazine.

He picks up the textbooks and sits down in the other chair. And it’s odd, staring at himself in the mirror in front of you – but he has to, to see if he looks suspicious – if he’s showing any tells of how badly he wants to touch you.

He opens up the book on the top of the stack, hopes he doesn’t smell like sweat – and you put your hand on the tent in his pants.

The book flaps close, and he jumps out of his chair – and you innocently peer up at him with your long lashes.

Then you say, “What?” as though his reaction surprised you. 

He stays silent – blinking once, then twice – mouth dry and out of words.

You slant your head to the side. “Don’t tell me you had your heart set on teaching me math.”

You have a look on your face that makes him feel like begging.

Standing up, you stalk him until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he falls down on it with a heavy thud – still stunned and stupid, looking at you with wide eyes as you mount him – rubbing that cute tightly-hugged mound upon his bulging crotch – making him groan with cinched brows, watching your pretty manicured fingers as they fiddle with his belt buckle.

“You really want this?” He asks breathlessly, and you stop to eye him – eyes wondering over that cute look of shock riddled all over his face.

You gave him a small catlike smile, bit your lip, and batted your coy doe-eyes down at him – running your hands up his chest until you reached his throat. “I wouldn’t exactly invite a big boy like you over, much less into my bedroom, if I didn’t want it.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Shinso ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Megumi, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kuro ♡ CSM – Aki ♡ DS – Tanjiro, Zenitsu ♡ HxH – Feitan, Leorio

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[dark-moonlust]

Getting Pounded by Nagas PART 3: Contractions

Pairing: Two nagas x human reader

Summary: You wake up feeling pains in your belly, getting ready for the egg birth. The doctor checks on you there is an issue… one that can be resolved only with your mates’ touch and seed.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, inaccurate pregnancy stuff (this is naga egg preg smut, let me have fun), naga smut, double 🍆🍆, double penetr, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is part of a series. Find all the parts here.

It was early in the morning when the contractions jolted you awake. The bedroom was still and dimly lit only the weak rays of the sun filtering through the curtains. You winced and disentangled yourself from between your mates, clutching your swollen belly and taking shallow breaths. The eggs shifted inside you, the pressure too much. Your groaned and the soft sound stirred your mates from their sleep. They woke with gasps of concern.

“What’s wrong, little one?” Ragnor asked, his fingers cradling your belly. You were 12 months along, so close to birth, your stomach round with the two eggs inside you.

“Contractions,” you breathed as another pain rolled through you.

At your words, both of your mates exchanged a look of worry. You were not supposed to have contractions. A Naga pregnancy didn’t have sudden contractions. It was completely different to a human pregnancy. The birth, too. It was the reason you’d arranged everything with the doctor and planned an induction of labor a week from now. But clearly, that plan would change.

“I can feel the eggs moving,” you muttered. “It’s starting to hurt.”

That’s was all you needed to say before your mates sprang into action.

Ragnor prepared everything you would need, packing you bags and a light meal. Meanwhile Thorne helped you take a shower and put on a soft, comfortable dress. In just twenty minutes, you found yourself lying at the padded chair in the Superhuman Maternity and Birthing Center. The room was bright and serene, the smell of disinfectant in the air. Your mates stood on each side of you, their tails wrapping around the chair.

Dr. Elise, a human woman in her fifties entered the private room, dressed in pristine white robes. She was a very kind and experienced doctor who monitored your superhuman pregnancy. Unlike you and your mates, Dr. Elise was calm upon hearing that you had contractions. She reminded you to keep taking deep breaths and trust in her ability to keep you safe.

“Good, very good,” the doctor said once you had calmed down a little. “Let’s take a look at you and the eggs. ”

The doctor used various advanced technological devises to scan your belly, take some blood samples and check the position of the eggs. You waited patiently as she analyzed your samples, winching only slightly when another contraction hit. Thorne and Ragnor stood at your sides, concealing their concern, each of them holding one of your hands tightly.

When Dr. Elise finally completed her calculations, she looked at you and your mates with a reassuring smile. “Everything appears perfect apart from the contractions. Naga pregnancies don’t cause traditional human contractions. That is because the eggs do not implant in the uterine wall like typical mammalian embryos. Instead, they remain free-floating within a specialized sac that develops to accommodate their growth. What you are experiencing now are false contractions.”

“Are my babies okay?” you asked her, tears pricking at your eyes.

Thorne kissed your sweaty forehead while Ragnor your lips. “We’re right here, love,” each of them murmured to you. “We won’t leave your side, relax for us.”

The doctor placed a strange cylindrical LED device over your vagina and ass, “I see that you’re not filled enough with your mates’ seed. It’s why you’re experiencing contractions and pain. We need to make sure you’re completely suffused in seed, and after that, it’s imminent that they be delivered. When was the last time you’ve had intimate relations with your mates?” The doctor asked you.

“Last night,” you answered in one breath.

“We fucked only once because she was sleepy,” Ragnor said, brows furrowing. “Wasn’t that enough?”

Dr. Elise shook her head. “Not in the least. The eggs consume the seed incredibly fast, especially at their current growth,” she explained. “You’ll need to fill your mate again, thoroughly and immediately.”

“Right now?” You asked, your voice pitching without meaning to.

“Yes,” Dr. Elise said. “I want you to be suffused with seed and after that I’ll induce the birth. We can’t risk waiting and risking both your health.”

“We’ll fill her. In both holes, just to be sure,” Ragnor said, his face completely serious.

Dr. Elise nodded. “Yes, and if you can give her seed through the mouth as well, that would be ideal.”

You flushed furiously as your mates and the doctor discussed the details, their faces dead-serious as if talking about filling your holes with seed was the most casual thing in the world.

Dr. Elise noticed your discomfort and smiled gently. “I want you to trust in me and my abilities to bring your babies to the world. Naga birth requires the assistance of the partners even more so in your case because you’re human.”

“Will it hurt as much as a human birth?” you asked, heart palpitating.

The doctor smiled. “No, it will be pleasurable and just mildly uncomfortable.”

You flushed at the word “pleasurable”. You’d discussed the birth plan a long time ago and you remembered the doctor telling you that your mates would need to make you climax during the birth for each egg to be delivered.

“Let me remind you how this will go,” Dr. Elise began, her voice calm. “Once you’re properly suffused with seed, I will give you a medicine that will induce the eggs to come out. Naga eggs have a tendency to like it in the womb and at some cases, they refuse to come out. The eggs will naturally leave your system, do not doubt that. I have specific instructions for that. Trust me, we will go through with it after you’ve been suffused with enough seed.”

“Thank you, doctor,” you said, your cheeks blushing a little.

“It’s my pleasure. Naga birth is completely different from that of a human so I want you to be as comfortable as possible and talk to me and your mates.”

“I understand,” you said. You trusted Dr. Elise and knew she was right. “Where can I and my mates… uhmm… do what we need to do?”

Dr. Elise stood up. “This room is reserved for your birth so you can stay here. I’ll step out to give you privacy and return roughly in two hours. Call me for whatever you need; I will be on standby.” The doctor headed to the door and glanced at your mates, “Remember, you need to fill her completely otherwise her health and the eggs will be at risk. I’ll come back to check, and if it’s not enough, you’ll have to keep going until the eggs have consumed enough seed.”

Once the doctor was out, you slumped back in the chair. “I can’t believe this. My health is dependent on your seed.”

“Lots of it”, Thorne added, looking smug.

“I’m going to be super cocky about that in the future,” Ragnor said, a smug grin on his face.

Two throaty chuckles made you look at your scaled mates. Horny bastards, they had already dragged off their shirts and their cocks had emerged from their protective slits, thick and massive, the cockheads glistening with arousal. You licked your lips and swallowed thickly. This was real. You were about to be fucked right there, in the examination room.

Ragnor wasted no time and slid up your dress, the only piece of clothing you wore. He left you completely naked on the chair, his hungry amber eyes devouring your form. Thorne was gazing at you just as intensely, both your nagas marveling at your swollen breasts, your round stomach and between your legs. You tried to close them, suddenly a little shy, but their tails wrapped around your ankles, keeping them spread wide for them.

“Will you trust us to fill your pretty little holes, little mate?” Thorne asked, his voice a whisper as he claimed your lips.

“Hnnn… fuck, yes,” you said, arching your back, offering yourself to them. The more they touched you, the more the contractions eased, pleasure taking over.

“Damn, what a pretty sight our mate is.”Ragnor lowered his head to your stomach, rubbed the swell, and spoke, "We’ll meet you soon, little ones. Stay safe and warm in there."

“Daddies will take care of mommy,” Thorne drawled, his mouth finding its way to one of your nipples, drawing it into his mouth. It leaked milk and with a groan he lapped it up.

Ragnor lavished attention on your other breast, his fingers teasing and rolling the tip that was beaded with milk. A whimper came tumbling from your lips then a drawn-out moan as they took turns worshipping your leaking breasts.

"Ahh— hnng... need your seed," you rasped, carding your fingers through their silky long hair.

"We need to prepare you mate,” Thorne said while kissing one lush rosy nipple and wetting the other with his tongue.

"I’m ready... ahh... I need your load."

Ragnor hummed. “Our mate is right. We need to fill her tight little holes. Hm?”

Thorne agreed, a smug grin playing on the lips.

Gently, you were lifted and placed onto Ragnor’s embrace. He carried you to the bed nearby and sat with you against his chest, your sensitive breasts leaking. His massive cock throbbed against your belly, slick with precum as you reached out and wrapped your hands around it. With sensual strokes, you pumped him up and down, the intimacy between you and your mates heightening.

You sensed Thorne presence behind you, his sinuous tail reaching for the bottle of lube in one of the drawers. You heard the slurp of lube then felt him take his place behind you, his cock wet against your back. With your free hand, you reached back to stroke his cock while his lubed fingers deftly parted your asscheeks, spread them wide, fingering your tight entrance and rubbing the swollen nub of your clit.

Thorne thrust a finger into your ass while stroking your clit with the other hand. Your thoughts turned into mush and you buckled your hips, the sensations electric. Another finger slid up your tight hole, the hand at your pussy moving with deliberate movements. You gasped and came with the most ridiculous moans, soaking wet and aching for more.

Sensing your need, your mates lifted you, their cocks poised beneath each quivering hole. Ragnor’s double cocks parted the folds of your pussy, his massive veined dicks thrusting upwards. Thorn’s shafts pressed insistently against the tight bud of your asshole. They guided you down until you were doubly impaled by their dicks.

Breath hitching, you squeezed your eyes shut.

You saw stars.

Pleasure and bliss.

They began their rhythmic thrusts and you whimpered, clutching onto their shoulders for dear life as they bounced you up and down on their naga dicks. Your body hummed with pleasure, the contractions barely catching your attention. Your nipples were hard and leaking, your holes clenching and unchecking around the invasions.

Your mates kissed your lips, your neck, your sensitive nipples. Their fingers roamed protectively over your belly, teasing and claiming you as you rode higher and higher. You rocked against them and rode them wildly, your juices leaking down your thighs and all over the cotton sheets.

Two more thrusts and you came crashing around their cocks, relief surging through you. Your naga mates groaned and followed the very next moment, their frames shaking violently as they spurted their seed inside you. The warmth filled you up, bringing immediate relief as the eggs seemed to settle within you.

“That’s it, such a good mate for us,” Ragnor murmured, kissing you softly. “How are you feeling, mama?”

“Better. Much better,” you said, your eyes and voice pleasure-hazed.

“It'll be okay," Thorne whispered into your ear. "Now we’re going to change positions and fill you up again, alright, love?”

You nodded, whining. You’d do anything to keep your eggs safe and you loved and needed your mates just as much.

“Let us take care of everything, love,��� Ragnor said, kissing you softly once more.

A wet squelch echoed as the cocks exited your depths. Your mates held you in a way that kept most of their seed inside you, and quickly plugged you up. This time, Ragnor laid down, thrusting his dicks up your ass, while Thorne slid between your splayed legs, draped them over his green-scaled tail and filled your tight pussy. Their tails coiled around your breasts, squeezing them delightfully and making your nipples leak out milk. Thorne lapped it up greedily, while Ragnor reached down to play with your swollen clit.

“Haah, yessss, ahnnn, feels so good,” you moaned as you were worshiped and claimed in every way possible. “Hng-go…go…nna—”

You cried out at the dizzying explosion of yet another climax. Your toes, high in the air, curled tightly, and your hands clung frantically to Thorne, fingers digging into his bare back. Their movements grew frantic, desperate until they buried themselves to the hilt and exploded within you, pumping rope after rope of cum, groaning harshly in masculine satisfaction.

Their strong hands rubbed your belly possessively, feeling the gentle movements of the eggs inside you. They kissed you deeply, tongues intertwining, then rearranged your positions again. This time, you lay on your side between your mates. Thorne spooned you from behind, his tail wrapping around your knees and opening your legs. Growling, he thrusts his fat cocks into your pussy and ass. You were drenched, naga seed all over your mound and thighs.

“I say we fill her pretty mouth, too,” Thorne said, his voice thick with arousal. “I want to see her swallow your seed Ragnor, let it fill her stomach.”

Ragnor groaned and kneeled at your face, his cocks jutting proudly up to his bellybutton. “Open up, love,” he cooed. “We need to make sure you’re completely filled.

Ragnor guided his cockhead to your lips and you opened up, taking one of his dicks as deep as you could in your throat. You suckled his shaft with fervor, your tongue tracing the veiny ridges and swirling over the flared head. Your hands pumped his second cock and you alternated between the two while Thorne pounded into you, causing your tits to bounce.

“Fuck, you have no idea how beautiful you look, mate,” Ragnor muttered, watching your mouth, now filled with both his cocks, while Thorne’s dicks pistoned inside you.

“Mffgh— love—hffuh you,” you gurgled around the shafts in your mouth, wet slurping sounds filling the room.

“We love you, too, precious mate,” Throne said, hips snapping repeatedly, driving his shafts deep in your depths. “You’re doing great. We’re almost there. Just a little more, love.”

They settled into a sensual rhythm, Ragnor’s cock filling your mouth while Thorne thrust inside your pussy and ass, his hands gripping your hips to keep you steady. They whispered sweet nothings, their voices thick with praise and adoration: ”you’re doing so well”, “our brave, beautiful mate”. They caressed your tummy, pinched your breasts while their tails flicked your poor clit.

Little sparks of fire sizzled through your body and burned you up in a blissful climax. You trembled and writhed, and Ragnor withdrew his cock allowing you to cry out with ease. Thorne’s magnificent serpent body bucked and he came with a bellow, nipping at your shoulder while pumping his seed inside you. Once he was done, Ragnor slid back in your mouth, his fingers grasping your hair. He thrust once, twice and came, cocks pulsing with his release. You swallowed every single drop, and felt his hot load fill your belly.

“Damn, mate, you took all we had to give,” Thorne said affectionately, his cocks still nestled within you, plugging up the seed.

“Our mate is the strongest,” Ragnor said, kissing you passionately, his tongue tasting his seed in your mouth. “How are you feeling? The eggs?”

“I’m feeling… perfect,” you said with a soft smile. “The contractions are almost gone. When will the eggs come?”

Just in time, a knock echoed through the room. The doctor had returned and you would soon give birth to your eggs.

Any kind of support will make me smile so big! Feel free to share your thoughts and reblog! Next part will be the birth.