#but they have so much stuff like shower chairs
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Sorry folks, I just can't get Arcane out of my head.
"Quiet moments" - Arcane Scenarios
Arcane characters x f!reader - Fluff
Summary: Scenarios where the different characters of Arcane show affection during quiet moments.
Pairing: f!reader x Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Sevika, Silco, Caitlyn, Vi.
Warnings: mention of killing, violence, brutal everyday stuff in Zaun.
VIKTOR
Relax isn't something Viktor is accostumed to and most of the time he passes his time in the laboratory, mentally crafting new hextech tools. Moments of peace and quiet are rare.
Being his assistant, you two stay together most of the time, but it is not so easy to find a moment to kiss or relax, when your boyfriend is constantly thinking and babbling about new projects.
One day, growing tired by the end of the evening, you sit on a chair in the laboratory, relaxing your tired legs and exhausted mind. Seeing you in such a state, Viktor stops speaking to himself and grabs his stick to approach you.
"Tired, my love?" "Exhausted, really" you respond with a low tone. "Progress dosn't wait for anyone" says the man as he gently strocks your hair with one hand.
"Need a pause, love?" Viktor asks with a smile on his face - "You can go to bed if you want, I'll probably be up all night again with this project".
Feeling a bit trascurated, you get up and heads out of the room to your shared bedroom, after giving him a quick kiss on the lips and a not-so-invisible upset expression on your face.
You impose to yourself to bathe and, after a quick shower, you head to bed, alone again, covering yourself with the covers, still smelling like his parfume.
After just a couple of moments, the door opens with a creak and Viktor enters the room, heading to the bed and sitting near your lying figure. After a kiss on your head, he takes off his clothes and, putting on his pygiama (yes, the man actually has a lot of them), gets in the bed with you.
With a sarcastic tone you say "Didn't you need to work all night again, Viktor?" - to which he replies "Mhhh, I prefer your company and warm over the project for tonight. Plus, I need to take care of a more important thing right now". The man spoons you from behind and hugs you with his arms, leaving a trail of kisses all over your head, before going to sleep.
JAYCE
The man is like a working machine but knows when to stop, differntly from his lab partner, Viktor. Jayce is always happy to have relaxing moments with you and, being a senator, taking advantage of the pros of his position is not something he refuses.
That particolar day, however, you saw your boyfriend like you hadn't seen him in a long time. After passing most of the day running for commisions, when you returned home, it was empty. No sight of Jayce, no left trace of his passage. With a tired sigh, you left your groceries on the counter and headed back out to the palace, to try and find your "lost" man.
After some time of futile searching, you find yourself in the big library, hoping Jayce would be there for a late study session. Instead, you find Mel, reading a book with so much focus that she doesn't hear your approaching steps.
"Sorry, Mel, have you seen Jayce? I've been searching for him for some time now and I don't know where to look for anymore" "Oh, hi y/n! - she replies - I think your man has gone crazy with work over the last hextech project. If I were you, I would search in the furnace, maybe he is releasing a bit of tension".
The furnace! How could you have forgotten about that place. Giving a thank you to Mel and leaving the library, you go directly to the place. The room was like a lair for Jayce, where he could let all of his frustation go and create new machines at the same time. When you arrive at the entrance of the furnace, you were welcomed by a wave of heat and strong fire light from the oven. Jayce was standing in front of it, withour his shirt and with his mind focused on the hammer in his hands, while working on what seemed to be e shield.
"Hi love, tired already?" you say with a timid voice - "Oh, Janna, sorry sweety, I think I completely lost sense of time, damn". Letting the hammer down, the man goes straight to you and hugs you, embracing all of you into his strong arms. The scent of his body is supressed by the smell of wood and metal, but it is still enough for you to take a hint of it, making you relax against his chest.
"I have missed you, silly" you say "when are you gonna come home?" "This exact moment, sweety, I have neglected you enough for today, I am so sorry" says Jayce with a guilt tone - "I want to cuddle with you for the entire night. Now, let's go home".
Jayce leaves on your lips a tired but loving kiss, before setting his arm around your waist and heading out of the furnace.
EKKO
Ekko is normally busy with the administration of the Firelights and their missions, but he always finds a moment during the day to remind you how much he loves you.
Returning from a successful mission against some on Silco's man, you and your crew are flying from the damaged and corrupted areas of Zaun to your life-saviour tree. The massive giant and the green all around you is always a comforting view after a failed mission. This time, however, you were able to destroy the cargo-ship of Silco and the barrels of shimmer lightened up pretty well. Every success is a small step towards the liberation of Zaun from the dispotic power of Silco, but everytime someone dies, and from both parts there are just Zaunites. Your own people, in the end. It would have been preferable to fight against the tight-asses of Piltover, instead.
After the arrival on the tree, it was not difficult to find your boyfriend, already surronded by a group of children who were laughing at his silly imitations of animals. A smile forms on your face and a warm sensation tightens around your heart, seeing him laughing like that and having fun. After all things the two of you have experienced together, you know that these occasions were rare and for Ekko they were the results of his efforts.
Calling him, whistling a particular note (your code signal), he tilts his head up to see your face and, after having said goodbye to the children, he grabs his flying skateboard and runs to you with a big smile on his face.
"Hi princess! Good to see you! How are you? How was the mission? How are the others?" storming you with questions, the boy grabs your shoulder with his hands. "Woah, calm down pretty boy. It's good to see you too" you utter with a groan caused by your sore shoulders and back after the mission - "Everything turned out good and the tips given by the bartender were right. I don't know how much more that man can remain alive, stealing documents from Silco".
"I'll see what we can do to protect him. We need those information at any cost. In the meantime, come here with me, Princess. Let's have a bit of us moment". Guiding you to the body of the immense tree, he sits and leans, letting you sit in between his legs, hugging you from behind.
"I want you to know how much I appreciate your contribution to the cause and how much I love you, everyday a little more than the day before. I don't think I would have accomplished so much without you, thank you". Looking into his eyes, a loving light irradiates and warms your heart. "No silly, you, me and all the others have accomplished this thanks to your leadership, your courage and your strengh. We all should be devoted to you".
"You are right" Ekko says with a hint of playful superiority in his voice - "You should all pray me as a God, you especially my little subordinate". "Ah ah ah, go to hell Ekko" you reply with a sarcastic tone.
The guy laughs, a warming smile on his face. Planting kisses on your shoulders, Ekko tightens his arms around you and says: "I have never tamed my feral little Princess and I never will". Before returning to his duties, Ekko takes his time to listen to you about the mission and how everything went, never stopping his hand from drawing gentle circles on your thigh.
SEVIKA
Working for Silco has never been an easy job and you know that. Everytime Sevika returned home from a mission, she was just a little more tired, a little more sore and her mechanical arm needed constant mantainment. It is fun for you, though, to project new weapons and ways to make her arm even more efficient, allowing your girlfriend to not be so worry in every battle. It is your mission to provide for the multitasking mechanical arm and its new weapons.
After a long morning of drawing new harmful guns and technological knives, it is your so-waited moment to have lunch. Getting out from one of houses near the Last Drop, you head to a near restaurant (if someone could call it that). That day you were hoping for a sweet and romantic lunch with Sevika, but she was out of sight and probably still on a mission. You remember the sensation of her body getting out of bed in the morning at what you think was the sunrise and the sound of her heavy footsteps leaving your room.
Sevika is not so used to show affection, especially in public, but she has never left in the morning without placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, saying "later" in a low and loving tone.
Ordering something from the menu, on which the dishes were always the same and pretty boring, you starts to fantasize about the restaurants in Piltover, rich with delights and different foods. The sigh that escapes from your lips is frustated, why does it have to be so difficult for the Zaunites, while the rich-asses of Piltover waste money over stupid things and complain about futile problems?
Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice the figure that has just opened the door of the local, looking lefts and rights in search for you. After she spots you, Sevika goes straight to you and, without saying a word, plops herself on the other side of the table. Already a bit irritated by your own trail of thoughts and not being in the mood for games, withour taking the eyes off the menu, you say "Please man, I don't want any problem and the seat is already taken. I wouldn't want my scary bodyguard to come look after you, it wouldn't finish in a good way" "Is that how you see me? As your scary bodyguard?"
You tilt you head up to meet the eyes of Sevika, a smirk on her face and a cigarette already at the corner of her mouth. "Oh Janna, I'm sorry love ahahah, I thought you were just one silly man. How are you? How was the mission? Do you like the new weapon I installed you? That knife is pretty sharp, uh?" you say with enthusiasm. Sevika smiles at you and, leaning on the cracking chair, responds: "It is not bad at all, I killed a bunch of people with it this morning. Everything went good" .
"I am so glad to hear that, want to eat something?" "I said to Silco I would have taken the afternoon off just for you, my little doll". Sevika isn't used to nicknames in public, so she whispered the last part of the phrase, but it was enough for you to put a smile on your face and feeling a blush forming on your cheeks.
"Thanks love, I appreciate it so so so much". Sevika gets up and positions her seat right next to yours, and, putting her human arm around you, calls the waiter to take the order.
"I promise you, one day we'll have lunch in the most luxurious restaurant of the entire city, doll. I'll do anything to provide to you the best lab ever created for you to craft your weapons". The warm tone of her promise makes you lean into her embrace, before putting a small kiss on her cheek.
SILCO
The idea of relax and taking a pause are what can be the most far from Silco's mind. The man is used to stay up all night and to have problems 24h, so his head is always filled with thoughts about the next mission. There is, however, a specific moment of the day which is his favourite and most hated at the same time.
Hidden by piles of papers and documents, the lean figure of your man is out of sight and the only sound that is hearable is the scratch of the pen on paper.
Your relationship with Silco was complicated, it wasn't always so easy for him to speak about his emotions, his feelings and at first you felt just like an object, a piece of meat for his own entrateinment. Everything changed when Powder arrived and, seeing your affection towards the little girl, Silco saw you under a new light and love started to spread from his heart. A coarse love, not well defined and still in need of some touches, but in was indeed an enormous step for the man.
After the first period of time, in which Silco outdistanced himself even more, scared by the new feeling, the time of reconcilliation came when the man understood the new warmth around his heart. The thought of you was the only important thing in his mind, together with the safety of Powder.
"Hi Sil, here I come for your everyday delivery!" you say with a funny tone, underling the last words - "How are you doing, I haven't seen you the entire day and sleeping alone is always boring". The man doesn't lift his head from the papers, but signals to you with his hand to wait for just a moment. Letting a smile form on your face, you approach the man behind his desk, enlightened by the big greenish window.
"All done, darling. I am all yours now". Silco had made you very clear that your relationship had to be kept a secret, for the public you were just one of his subordinates, who, occasionally, was called to give him "relief". The reasons of such a decision were clear to you and it didn't bother you that much, in the end, the relief part was true.
"Love that! Ready for the needle?" A hated routine moment in Silco's life, but it was made more bearable by your presence. Looking into your eyes with his blue and orange ones, he opened a drawer of his desk to take the so hurtful needle. You were responsable to provide him with his daily dose of medical shimmer. Positioning yourself between his legs, Silco sets his hands on your waist and a piece of leather between his teeth not to bite his tongue.
"I'll be the most delicate possible, Sil, I promise" Looking at you, already knowing what was going to happen, Silco nods his head and rests it against the chair. Pointing the needle right in his eye and ready to inject the purple liquid, you take a final sight of the scar all over his left part of the face, that scar that you love so much, that bears a lot of painful memories.
"At three, ok? One, two, ..." and you press the injector right into his eye. The reaction of Silco is immediate, and he needs a high dose of control to not tilt his head and let the shimmer go to waste. Hearing his rapid deep breath and the strengh of his hands on your waist, you set the needle on the desk, before gently strocking the hair of your man, allowing his head to rest on your chest.
"Shh Sil, it is all done now, you can relax. I am here for you". After a few minutes, as always, Silco's breath returns to a normal rhythm and, letting the piece of leather out of his mouth, without looking at you, he says: "Thanks darling, I don't know what I would do without you. That shit hurts like hell, fuck. Give me a moment, will you?" A small but noticeable smile appears on his face and the man grabs his cigar, the only other vice that he has, except for you.
Letting you sit in his lap, Silco strocks your hair with the free hand. "Darling, how is it that everytime you come here, your face is more beautiful than it was before?" - with a soft blush on your face, you reply "Seeing me not so often doesn't help, Sil". Letting out a frustated sigh, Silco places a kiss on your lips, a soft yet loving one, giving to you all of his attention.
"Accept this apology for the moment, little one, I'll redeem myself later. Tonight I'm all yours, if you want my company. I haven't enjoyed a dinner with you in a long time an it is not acceptable. I'll have Sevika bring something here and we can have our little chat". Sevika knew about your relationship and helped in many ways, everything to keep Silco at least a bit more relaxed from time to time.
"I know that having dinner in the office is not optimal and is not your idea of a romantic date, but we must be patient and endure these hard times. I will give you anything you want and the future is just ours, darling". Silco gives you another kiss and, letting you stay on his lap, continues to do the paperwork.
CAITLYN
Caitlyn is a hard-working soldier, it has always been her dream to be part of the enforcer's group. She loves action, her desire is to help the city and defend it against the menaces of Zaun. At the same time, Cait is not someone that can't take a risk, and in the last period she has gone to the underground quiet a bit of times. You started to worry about her safety among the people of Zaun, but Cait has reassured you.
The two of you have met thanks to a job that was assigned to both of you. Even though you weren't a proper enforcer and your job was mostly done behind a desk, your abilities to coordinate and plan the missions were fundamental for good results. Occasionally, however, you accompanied the other enforcers to get a better sight of the places for your maps. After the first encounter, Cait used her mother's influence (just this time, I promise, she is a good gal) to have you has her mission's planner, at first just from time to time, but the two of you ended up as a team in no time. Cait and you shared a particular chemistry and fun was never left out.
You and Cait started to go out as collegues at first, dicussing the next mission and moves, but after some time, it was clear that something has changed and a new feeling has developed. Cait would have never first admitted it, but her actions spoke louder than her words and one day, tired of waiting, you took the initiative and kissed her. As a result, you basically started living at her place, strangely accepted also by her mother (I consider Cait's father as a sweet man, and another girl in a family of mostly women wasn't a problem for him).
That morning, waking up late and tired from the last mission, you roll in your bed to search for the comfortable presence of your girlfriend, just to find an empty place. With a tired sigh, you wait another five minutes and get up from the bed. Having fixed yourself for a trace of dignity after sleeping, you step close to the door to open it, but your gesture is anticipated. Cait stands at the door, fully clothed in her uniform and with a visible worried and sad expression on her face.
"Jeez, Cait, what happened?" you say - "Well, sorry. Hello in the first place, love. What is going on inside that pretty brain of yours?" Cait looks at you with sadness in her eyes, the blue irradiates from her pupils a sense of almost agony, not physiscal but mental. Withour saying a word, Cait places a small kiss on your cheek, leaving you with a surprised expression on your face, and takes your hand to guide you to the bed.
Cait lays down on the bed and you do the same, setting yourself on the other side, facing her. "Do you want to talk about what happened yestarday, Cait? I think the past mission is still bothering you". The task assigned to you two was the retrieval of a rare substance that had been taken by some of Silco's men, but the attack hadn't gone right and some enforcers were killed. The problem was that, during the fight, one of the enemies had accidentally killed a small girl that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Cait was almost killed, frozen in place at the sight of the small life taken away, while the killer wasn't bothered that much.
"It was not your fault, Cait. You weren't responsable for anything. That son of a bitch was the animal, he didn't care about that. I have been taking a better perimeter of the zone and the next time, I can send some undercoverd enforcers to keep all the civils away".
"Why are we still fighting?" says Cait with a whisper - "Why do innocent people always get in the middle and are the ones that turns out to be the vistims of ours and Silco's stupid games? Why can't we just leave in peace and help each other". A small tear starts to appear at the corner of her blue eyes and you don't waist second to dry it.
"I am sorry, love, I know it is hard. But just with our hard work can we have better results. Civils are always the victims, in the end, and that sucks. It is how fights work and it is disgusting. But we can change that, we can make the city a better place for everyone. I spoke with Jayce yesterday, and he says that the hextech could also be used in medicine! Can you imagine it? It would be wondeful!" Putting a cheerish tone in your voice, you try to comfort your girlfriend, who repays you with a soft smile.
"Thank, honey, I needed that" says Cait - "Sometimes I get too carried away. But I want the same justice also for the people of Zaun, we are part of one city, in the end. Tomorrow I want to organise a ceremony for the little girl, let the Zaunites know we still care about them".
"That's how it is done. Love to see that sparkle in your eyes" you respond - "Now, what do you wanna do today? Beside the organisation of the ceremony. I have some work to do, but after that I am free".
Cait looks up at you and, with a delicate tone says: "Let's stay there five more minutes, please, I need some time to recollect myself". "Whatever you need love" you reply. Strocking her cheek just one more time, you get near Cait and, looking into her eyes, you start cuddling her, talking about the latest improvements of the hextech.
VI
The idea of relax for Vi can have different forms. It varies from a stroll on the roofs of Zaun to start a fight in a pub just for fun.
The two of you met during one of these fights and Vi saved your ass from a flying chair, just to look at you with a smirk on her face and say: "How can a beautiful face like yours be in miserable place like that?" In the meantime she was trying to hold back a man that was more large than tall. The flirt didn't stop after that night and the relationship was not late to arrive.
Vi owns a central place in your heart, her figure is always there to protect you and she would do anything to not let you get hurt. Her ways of showing affection have changed: at start she would just flirt and playing the dominant part, not showing any other emotions except cockiness. But after some time, Vi started to give you small kisses in public, calling you nicknames and showing a side of her that just a few people had been able to know.
The relationship has been doing great and, even though life in Zaun has never been easy, the two of you had found your place in a small house near Vander's statue.
That morning, after having passed the night out with your friends, you wake up with Vi by your side, but the cuddling time doesn't last enough, beacause Vi needs to go out for some commisions. Resting a bit more, you wake up after a couple of hours to find your girlfriend patching her arm up, with bruises all over her chest.
Running to her with a sudden movement, you get near and take her face into your hands, looking terrible worried. "What the hell, Vi? What happened to you, why are all covered in bruises? It seems like a giant has got you!" "You aren't so distant from reality, cupcake" Vi replies - "That jerk had got what he deserved. I am in a bad state, but you should see him". The last words put a smirk on Vi's face.
"Vi you can't start a bar fight at ten in the morning, jeez! You could have been more injuried". "I was not alone, capcake, don't worry. Ekko was there with me and we made a spledid fight".
Looking at her with judging eyes, you take the first aid kit and start to prepare the necessary to patch her arm. "So, I need to talk to him, too. That boy is in big trouble". Vi puts on a funny face, mixing the regret for having told about Ekko and the expectation for the outcome of your meeting.
"Don't think you are out of this, Vi. You will receive the lecture when you'll fell better". "Love that, cupcake. Always love when you lecture me" Vi says with a sarcastic tone, to tease you.
After having helped her with the arm, you start to disinfect her sore hands, where there's still a bit of blood. "Pay attention the next time, Vi, please. Hit him under the chin, he should go out in no time". "Thanks for the advice, cupcake. Now come here". After that, Vi places a soft kiss on your cheeks, and the rest of the morning is filled with the report of Vi about the fight, about how Ekko and her put down a dozen of Silco's men and the fun they had.
#arcane#scenarios#oneshots#arcane scenarios#arcane imagine#ekko#silco#vi#caitlyn arcane#viktor#jayce#sevika#writing#arcane characters#arcane characters x reader
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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!)
~~~
âyouâll laugh.â
âi wonât laugh.â
âyouâll want to laugh. you wonât, but iâll see the amusement in your eyes anyway.â
âi wonât laugh. not even with my eyes.â
olivier sighs. the dream of taking a bath with izumi is one sheâs held for a long time. when sheâd been sick, olivier had washed her many times, but always from outside the bath, always clothed. and generally sheâd 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 justâŠconnected to her stoneness. that if she shared a bath with a partner, maybe⊠well. she looks at her fiancĂ©e. âperhaps⊠i would need to keep a pair of swim trunks on.â
izumi doesnât laugh. she doesnât even, to her credit, look the slightest bit amused. âdid you bring a pair?â
olivier nods. izumi keeps saying theyâre going to take a day trip out to the lake on one of these visits, but theyâve never done it. she brings swim attire anyway though, just in case.
âwell!â izumi says, and that settles that.
izumi strips before olivier can even offer to help her with her clothes, and she doesnât hide the fact that sheâs brazenly watching olivier, either. thatâs fine, sheâs allowed to do that. they are engaged, after all. but olivierâs 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 alexâs tonight, so they have the place to themselves. itâs 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. sheâs not sure if izumi filled it ahead of time or pulled the worldâs fastest alchemical trick in the few seconds before olivier walked in, but either way, itâs full, itâs soapy, and when she dips her fingers in, itâs 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 olivierâs chest and she can stretch her legs forward a little.
and then olivier melts.
itâs the heat, itâs izumi, itâs the contact, itâs the trust, and all of a sudden sheâs just. the happiest sheâs been since izumi proposed to her, really.
she sighs, and presses a kiss into the side of izumiâs neck.
izumi hums. her hands search for olivierâs in the water and olivier grants them to her.
âyou know,â izumi says, âi wore my bathing suit for seven months after.â
she doesnât have to say after what. she never does.
olivier doesnât answer, she just squeezes her hand.
âit took a long time to heal.â
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.
âand then i didnât want to see it, even after it hadâŠâ
olivier knows that izumi hates talking about it. about anything to do with it. sheâs doing it for her, to explain why she didnât blink when olivier asked to be clothed. she doesnât have to do that, but as she does, the warmth in olivierâs 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 izumiâs smiling.
âthis is just to say iââ she gasps a little at a particularly well placed kiss. âunderstand.â
olivier hums in acknowledgment, kisses her one more time, and then leans back, letting izumi lean back further against her. âthank you.â
#fma rareship weekend 2024#fmarareshipweekend2024#fmab#prompt: non-sexual intimacy#olizumi#olivier mira armstrong x izumi curtis#izumi curtis#olivier mira armstrong#BTW!!!!! the curtises bathroom is absolutely stacked with accessibility devices#didn't write them in here because olivier doesn't notice them anymore after so many visits#but they have so much stuff like shower chairs#handles etc#there's no way their bathroom wouldn't be so so so so accessible and comfortable for izumi#fma
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I'm so excited to move out....
I can't sleepđ«
#bruh#i also just realized that I forgot to pack yesterday while I was off#so ill have to pack today#start some laundry#dump my ex's clothes out of my tote#unload dishwasher#pack my clothes#prep stuff for my dad to help me move#KITCHEN TABLE?! FUCK#im definitely moving the cat last to try and avoid issues with her#i need to buy cat food and food bowl#set up the gravity water for my ex's cat (just because you dont like your ex doesn't mean you abuse their pet... I fucking love his cat...*#* She's basically my baby now... seriously I have that cat spoiled lol... If I can work out a living situation where I dont have to move in*#* with my cousin.... Im GONNA adopt another cat. i love cats)#i shouldn't have too much to move since I've downsized... a lot... sold my mini-fridge đ made the -easy- decision to leave my furniture*#*(an old power-lift chair that no longer works. some Mainstays shelves and entertainment center - they're almost 10 years old. cost $50 and*#*are made from particle board. they've been moved 3 too many times and they're falling apart) these were hard decisions tbh#im leaving a complete set of Mainstays dishes (cheap. i dont want them. my ex needs dishes. etc)#my mind is awake with all these plans... but I have to work tonight and i need to sleep (luckily I went to bed early)#i need a shower caddy. another (dedicated) dressing gown. a Jeep Wrangler (i hate them but they can tow mid sized campers and like. if I en*#*enjoy living like I will... Maybe I'll just make it my lifestyle) I know well-off people have made unconventional living trendy. but like.*#*Im a poor and it's more viable to live in the camper my parents bought on relatively cheap campgrounds#bro
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Day whatever it is recap!
#đž#I think itâs day five maybe#also Iâm at my brothers school for the last time ever :/#probs the last time Iâll ever step into a college dorm again tbh#and I got one last shower in the dorm bathroom which is always good bc if Iâm seeing my brother chances are Iâve at very least spent three#hours in a car to get to him#so a shower is nice especially bc I was like panic attack sweaty. tmi? maybe.#I didnât really do a lot today#at least not postable stuff#a lot of hanging out with family and Millie and being tired and kind of miserable but also daydreaming about any other shit in my life#idk. it all feels weird rn. all of it. and my brain is nagging me saying youâre being/doing x y z for attention even when Iâm not telling#anyone shit im doing or thinking or anything and my brain is still like nah. youâre jealous of your brother graduating and not being home#at the end of dads life and at the same time you feel stressed and guilty and feel bad about him not getting closure#but at the same time you just wish you didnât see his fucking body on the ventilator and all the IVs and the bloat and the popped blood#vessels and the nurses and doctors and knowing they did cpr so much if he even survived he would be miserable and have broken ribs#fuck. I want to be home and alone and crying about this all by myself alone. I hate this I hate this I hate this I want to go smoke a cig#but this is a no smoking campus ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh I am miserable and this is supposed to be this big fun#thing for my brother and I feel selfish and stupid for having feelings and letting myself get upset about my dad but my fucking mother#made some sign to put in an empty chair for my dad and she brought his jacket he wore all the time and I started crying when I saw and then#immediately after we had to go see his parents and my grandfather is falling apart and reminds me of my dad in the hospital and Iâm just so#miserable and between horrible thoughts and self harm and everything Iâm keeping to myself I am just thinking about how this is so bitter#sweet for my brother like heâs graduating with his friends and then moving away from them all to a place where itâs just all about dad being#dead and he doesnât like Florida really and heâs gotta start his grown up life (technically he has two more classes online and heâs getting#a blank diploma tomorrow but yeah. things are rough and my body hurts and stress is so bad for me and my chronic pain and I feel like I went#from the most relaxed and comfortable and happy Iâve been in a year to feeling like hell on earth and I feel like Iâm bringing down every#one elseâs mood but like hello why are we pretending any of this normal thid canât be real this canât be real this canât be real I donât#want this to be reak I want it to be fake it has to be fake please please please wake up tomorrow and have it be a year ago please#I miss my father and I hate myself and violent thoughts are taking over my mind and I hate it all but things were so good literally up until#I saw my mom and grandparents#my brother was so nice when it was just us too (and later I just mean before mom got here specifically he was still nice to me)
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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
#personal#i am in so much of a better place now than i was as a mentally ill teenager. which is partly that i was in a very toxic situation back then#and now im living with my partner and friends and have my own life and theres something so healing about having a relationship where were#both trans and bi and disabled and autistic and have so much in common despite being our own separate people. its nice#for the first time in decades i feel like i can just be myself around him without needing to think about who that self needs to be to be#accepted. i dont need to mask or hide my feelings he just accepts me as i am and tries to help me work through the traumatized parts#hes so patient and incredible and im really lucky to have him <3 and he helps me with disability stuff and cares for me when im sick <3#and washes me when im in my shower chair and holds me steady when i need to stand. t4t disabled love is just so nice :'))))
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#i kept my shit together longer this time at least#i will do anything to get rid of this feeling#it's driving me crazy#it's unbearable#even with nearly double my meds i still want to cry myself to sleep#i kept it together through half the exam season#i did good#but i still shouldn't have to go through this low#my life wasn't even in a high#it was tolerable for the past couple of weeks#but i still haven't fully recovered from that last depressive episode#it keeps coming back every time something minor triggers it#and i don't want to give it that much credit by calling it a depresive episode but i haven't showered in like a fucking week#and i can't see the surface of my desk or use my chair bc it's so fucking cluttered#i still don't know how i managed to clean my rooms floor from all the stuff#I'm really really tierd of feeling this way#i don't like this emotion#i want to feel loved i want to have someone that cares for me#feeling physical pain sounds like a good way to get rid of that feeling#i don't see any other way to destruct me from it#but i won't do it#i'm not gonna do it#i will probably sleep it off#or go into autopilot#I'm putting off going yo bed bc i don't want to cry#and feel bad about it#if i stop holding it together now i don't think i will recover#at least in time to not fail uni#i want to numb it out#i think I'm just going to bury my head under the blanket and hope for the best
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â© â§âË â© speak of the devil
synopsis. satoru and his father donât quite get alongâyou donât think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesnât seem to care at all
FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDNâT 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 itâs shameless satoru, you sit on satoruâs 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 donât ask again <3
the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time heâs nowhere to be foundâit takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, heâs in his fatherâs officeâthe only room youâve never been in yet.
âhey,â you murmur, âbeen looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.â
âbaby!â he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. âyou came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think iâm hot too, right? and funny? and smart? andââ
âiâm leaving,â 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. âwhatâs this?â
âpaperwork,â he grumbles, âold man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if iâm gonna take over someday. what a geezer.â
you snortâsatoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldnât encourage his comments, butâŠ.well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.
âmy poor businessman,â 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. âyou deserve a break.â
âi know,â he whines, âiâve been doing these for like an hour. i couldâve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.â
âsatoru!â 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, âyou have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.â
ânot like theyâve never heard us before,â he shrugs.
well, thatâs satoru for youâas shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but heâs 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.
âyouâre a real case, you know that?â you say in disbelief, âi think the only surface you havenât fucked me on is your parentâs bed. and thatâs only because you love your mom enough not to do that.â
âif it was just the old manâs, iâd have fucked you on that too,â he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, âactually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. itâs like a bucket list.â
âsatoru, youâre sick in the head.â
âthe showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of courseâoh, the game room too. and we canât forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it allâwait.â
he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. âwhat?â
âwe didnât get this room.â
oh god. heâs absolutely ridiculousâand not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldnât 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.
âoh my god,â you say exasperatedly, âtoru, have you not one ounce of shame? you canât possibly thinkââ
âwhy didnât i think of this sooner?â he wonders out loudâand oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one thatâs locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isnât 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.
âbecause itâs a bad idea. youâre a smart guy, toru,â you try to butter him upâit doesnât seem to do much, though. âthe smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so letâs just drop itââ
âi shouldâve done this way sooner,â he chuckles, looking at you in awe, âbend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossilâs papers.â
his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.
âno, absolutely notââ
âcan you imagine? heâs signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? heâd be so mad if he knew,â satoru cackles.
godâthis 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 heâs already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.
itâs the same look he has when he decides heâs hungryâfor you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like youâre his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants youâand heâll stop at nothing to have you.
andâŠ.well, youâve never been good at saying no to satoru. itâs your fatal flaw.
âsatoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dadâwho hates that weâre dating, by the wayâany more angry with us than he already isââ
âsweetheart,â he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, âyou worry too much, yâknow that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you donât overthink in that pretty little head you have.â
you glare at him, but heâs already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. heâs already hard from what you can feelâthe bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss.Â
âsatoruââ
âsave the part where you say my name for later. i havenât even done anything yet,â he winksâand then heâs kissing you. heâs 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.Â
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.
âthis is such a bad idea, toru,â you whisper in between kissesâbut 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.Â
âyeah? you sure? letâs check, shall we?â he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your foldsâwet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when youâre with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, âsorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.â
âtoru,â 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 bratâalways 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.
âwant more, donât ya?â he asksâheâs too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but youâre aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod.Â
âjust hurry up,â you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cockâitâs 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.Â
âfuck, sweetheart,â he rasps, âc-could cum jusâ like this. see what you do to me?â
ââs not me,â 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, âthis is all your fault.â
âall my fault, huh?â he chuckles, âyou make it sound like this is a bad thing.â
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 otherâs moansâyour 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. itâs desperateâthe 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.Â
ââm close, toru,â you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.
âgood,â he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you donât think youâve ever seen on him before, âcum for me, sweetheart. right hereâright on this chair,â he says lowly.Â
so you doâhead 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 bigâvery big. youâre sure your voice isnât carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you canât help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby.Â
satoru doesnât like that, thoughâhis hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. âno, baby,â he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, âmake sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?â
âyes,â you whimper, âyes, feels so goodâneed more, toru. please,â you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes.Â
âhere?â he mocks, raising a brow, âyou want me to fuck you right here? in my fatherâs office? where he does his work? right on his desk?â
âyes, here,â you sob, âright hereâplease. want you so bad. need it.â
âsee?â he laughs, ânow youâre getting itânot so much of a bad idea, is it?â
thatâs the thing about satoruâheâs too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and heâs determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enoughâitâs more. always more, more, more. itâs like all rich people, you suppose.Â
they just always want more.
thereâs a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoruâs father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like youâre an eyesore, and heâs certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesnât mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not moreâŠbut youâre only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isnât enough, andâŠwell, you think itâs just karma.Â
the way the world works.Â
the way you and satoru work.Â
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.Â
âokay,â you whisper against his lips, âfuck me toru. right hereâright on his desk.â
that, evidently, is all it takesâone second youâre 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 doesnât even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that itâs enough. satoru has always been impatient tooâdoesnât like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants.Â
you can feel him close, hovering over you. heâs warmâwhere 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. heâs warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.
âanything you want, you get, sweetheart,â he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, âcanât say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?â you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your foldsâtheyâre wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before heâs slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. âcan never get used to this,â he breathes, ânever get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.â
âtoru, t-toruâoh,â you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. itâs nothing new, but itâs never something youâre 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. âmore, toruâmove, please.â
ânuh uh,â he drawls, kissing your cheeks, âfirst you gotta tell me how much you love me.â
âsatoru,â you hiss in disbelief, âare you kiddingââ
âcâmon, say it,â he giggles, âlove you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. youâre the best boyfriend ever and iâll die without your cockââ
âi love you toru,â you smile sweetly, âyou know what i love more, though? when youâre too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.â
that makes him shudderâmakes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. heâs achingâhot 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.
âyouâre gonna be the death of me,â he breathes out shakily, âknow that? gonna kill me one of these days.â
âgood,â you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, ânow move, baby. wanna feel you.âÂ
he doesâpulls his hips back so that heâs 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.Â
âso tight, baby,â he whines, âgod youâre so perfectâmy perfect girl.â
âso full,â 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. âfeel so good, toruâfuck.â
âlook at you,â he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, ââs a shame you canât see what i see. then youâd know why i canât keep my hands offâa youââs impossible.â
you canât speakâall you can offer him as heâs 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. thereâs 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.Â
âlove you, toru,â you mewlâyou canât help but say it, canât 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 canât see that you love satoru, maybe youâll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind.Â
âlove you too,â 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, âlove my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?â
you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his nameâhe 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.Â
his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense itâthe way youâre 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, toruâmore!
âyou close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? âm closeâgonna fill you up. want that, donât you?â
âyeah,â you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, âyeah i wanâ you to fill me up, toruâgonna cum. âm so closeâf-fuck, so close, baby.â
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 heâs 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 cumâhard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.
âf-fuck, babyââm gonnaâŠâ he doesnât get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. itâs hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makesâcan feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. âg-goodââs so good, you feel so good,â 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 slightlyâbut itâs not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you canât 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.Â
itâs silent for a bit once youâve finishedâsave 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.
âyour maids must hate us,â you mumble, âand if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.â
âsheâs probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,â he snorts, âweâll be fine.â
âwell, we should clean up and leave before your dadââ
âoh look, speak of the devil. heâs just in time,â satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, âthink we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave âem to make him mad.â
âyouâre crazy,â you say in disbelief. and thenâ âi think we should leave them there. make them his problem.â
you think youâve 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 donât: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach
#teepods.writings#fics.#thirstee!#rich boy! au#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you
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colour me in: palette | jjk (m)
Summary:Â Breezy mountaintops and turquoise oceans are even more enchanting with Jungkook by your side. Yet, throughout your vacation, you realise â even once you've left the lofty peaks and liberating waves behind, you'll still elevate each other to new heights every day.
âł pairing: Jungkook x reader âł rating: 18+ âł genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; tiny hints of angst, crazy much fluff, smut âł 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 đ„ș âł word count: 32.6k âł 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 đ€ âł listen to: can't help falling in love by haley reinhart (alt. version) | full collaborative playlist đ€
SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs
DAY 1
âBunk beds⊠Fu. Cking. Bunk. Beds.â
Jimin scarcely seems impressed with the change in plans that the hostel is forcing your group into. You havenât quite yet deciphered whatâs going on; youâve been waiting in the lobby with pursed lips and tired eyes, Jimin at the front desk, discussing details that heâs now groaning about.
âWait⊠what?â Eun asks, eyes scanning the group members, all equally confused.
Jimin, as agitated as you havenât seen him in a while, plumps into one of the lobbyâs 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.
âWeâd booked three rooms, right? But one of them has a leak.â Short pause; Taehyung clicks his tongue. âSo now they offered to keep one with the queen size bed and then get another room with two bunk beds. Weâd 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.â
âSame price?â Yoongi inquires, aside from Jungkook, the calmest in the room.
âOh my god,â Eun whispers, matching Jiminâs drama-loving freak, âthis is⊠weâre being robbed.â
âSo,â Yoongi tries again, a deep voice interrupting your best friendsâ growing hysteria, âwe just pay less and get the bunk bed room for four people, no?â
Eun and Jimin stare at the man as if heâs uttered sheer nonsense; Eunâs eyes squint, questioning how heâd dare separate her from her boyfriend. And Jimin, his expression equal to Eunâs, 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, âI guessâŠâ
âYeah, and then, whoâs getting the queen sized bed?â you ask carefully, likely initiating another feud; but what else can you do? You need to resolve the issue on hand and youâre dog tired; you need to nap for an hour at least. âHow do we decide that?â
âThatâs the question,â Jimin declares, rubbing his hands before he announces, âI think weâll have to fight for it, folks.â
ââŠHow?â
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 arenât feasible in this very situation; you can already tell.
That is, until Taehyung speaks up, slapping his thigh as he finally answers, âWeâll just go the easiest way we know.â
The fact that Jungkook and Yoongi puff out a breath of air is understandable; as Kim Taehyungâs closest pals, theyâre bound to know which thought lit up his brain. But by now, even you understand the manâs tactics well enough, and before you can verbalise them, Yoongi does.
ââŠWait. You want to rock paper scissors this out?â
âDo you have a better idea?â
âWe just pull names? Or spin the wheel? There are plenty of sites on the Internet.â
âNo,â Jimin again, âI donât trust any of you to not manipulate this.â
Voices soon mingle, offended by Jiminâs distrust, retorts flying around such as, âOh, thanks for this,â or âWhy would we manipulaââ
âCome on!â Jimin defends, cutting through the cacophony of arguments. âWeâre all a bunch of newlyweds! Nobody wants to sleep without the other.â
Well⊠maybe heâs not wrong there. Over the last several weeks, youâve grown accustomed to your boyfriendâs 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 Jungkookâs embrace, his arm over your shoulders. You look at him until he stares back, telling him as the others argue, âThis is terrible. I just got used to sleeping with you andâŠâ
But he shakes his head in reassurance, blinking slowly. Gently grabs your hand off his chest and intertwines your fingers, promising that, âItâs okay, babe. Whatever game they want to play, weâve got this.â
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, youâve 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, youâd notice.
Notice everything.
How heâd kiss your forehead or your temple, whispering your name or a soft, âHi, angel,â without really expecting a response back. Heâd 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.
ButâŠ
It seems that today, luck isnât quite on your side; different from what he foretold, you havenât got this. Because mere five minutes later, youâre staring into a group of shaking heads and devastated faces.
Jimin and Yoongi have lost already; and when itâs time to decide between the remaining of you four, itâs not you who breaks into cheerful laughter but the couple youâve decided to regard with a pout for the rest of the trip.
Unnecessary to mention that Tae and Eun dash into their room once theyâve 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 donât get it; arenât 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. Youâve been played so bad.
âAnd what if we do take the second double room and let fate decide between us?â 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, âNah. Itâs just two nights, weâll be moving on after that anyway. Besides,â he sets his suitcase against the left bunk bed, claiming it, and ruffles through his long, dark hair, âwe canât leave the last couple all alone here.â
You smirk in mock, tilting your head, âHa-ha. Youâre way too sure of victory. You wanna try right now, Minââ
âCome on,â Jungkook tries, two heavy hands settling on your shoulders before he moves them down and rubs your shoulders in affection, âsolidarity, baby. Itâll be fun.â He moves in, close to your face, kisses your cheek and then whispers into your ear, âWeâll have our room at the beach. And then a whole week just for us, remember?â
Oh, as if you could forget.
Jungkookâs hometown will be the third and last stop of your vacation, a wedding and a childhood bedroom awaiting you. You canât predict what those days in the countryside will bring, but you refuse to think about them; not because youâre 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; youâve communicated it a million times and will say it a billion times more â you donât think youâve ever been this pumped in your life.
No â 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 todayâs outfit. As you shamelessly lay open your entire wardrobe, including some of your best lingerie, you tease, âOkay. Iâll save up my energy. More tonight, boys.â
Jimin blows a raspberry at you; Yoongi waves you off with a grin; and Jungkook barely reacts to you. You assume heâs tired from all the driving, requiring rest more than you, eyes half-lidded.
But if you were in his head, youâd know that heâs 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 doesnât feel as soft and smooth between your fingertips as it looked from afar. You donât think youâll take it. But the beige cardigan felt like a shawl made of accumulated feathers against your body; and Jungkook approved of it, too.
Youâre liking the village; maybe itâs the overall dreamy and magical vibe it emanates. Itâs 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 â you canât 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 youâve already settled on buying. Itâs 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 youâve 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 didnât 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, âDamn.â
âI take it you like it as much as I do.â
âDo one of your three sixty spins.â
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, âAre you bored? Wanna go somewhere else?â
And he always responds, âNo. Show me another one of the dresses.â
But no matter how boundless his enthusiasm, he canât control his occasionally occurring ticks â you know theyâre 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, âYou okay?â
âHm? Yeah. Yeah, I think Iâm just tired,â he explains, âdriving all day made me drowsy.â
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, âI told you to let me drive.â
âYes, butâŠ. I like driving,â he shrugs his shoulders, pouting a little, âand you were having fun.â
Honestlyâ
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.
âOkay. Lean back now.â
The road was challenging, Jungkookâs voice too quiet to prevail over the music, and you too reckless. Despite the chaos, his grin was telling â 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, âAngel!â
Youâd separated the large group â Jimin was driving the other car, alternating with Taehyung. The journey wasnât 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 youâd be driving on to the wedding anyway, and Yoongi would then proceed the vacation in Taehyungâs vehicle. But while your excitement for Jungkookâs hometown didnât dim a single bit, you were a little sad that youâd 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 Yoongiâs sarcastic suggestion to drive wordlessly.
It took you a moment to understand â Yoongi isnât a bad driver at all, as youâve been told by himself, but heâs still not fully healed yet. None of you would make him and he wouldnât 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.
Youâre a handful â but he has confessed a hundred times before that heâd rather have that than an empty palm.
âNo wonder youâre tired,â you tell him, flattening the already crinkle-free dress before you add, âPoor Jimin and Yoongi. Were separated in the cars and now in the hostel, too.â
âI mean,â Jungkook starts, âthey both seemed to have a good time on the way, though. Other than that, have they even made stuff official yet?â
Good question. Barely occurred to you yet. You think back to the last couple of weeks, to each of the weekend meetings that youâd summon everybody to in order to discuss the trip. Nothing was said then. Nothing has been said since this morning, either.
So you say, âKind of by just being with each other the way they are, right? To be honest, I didnât even think about it. For me, it was already official⊠didnât think itâd need an announcement.â
âMaybe youâre right? Itâs as much of a secret as we are.â
You break into a grin. âRight?â And then, you straighten your stance, once more turning to show off your ass, too, just for good measure. âWhat do you think?â
âOh, you should buy it.â
âYeah?â
âWell, itâd be good to look at and then fun to rip off.â
You roll your eyes so hard, they nearly disappear from his sight; partly to hide the effect his words practise on you â face hot, chest tight, legs crossed to ease the physical feeling that emerges.
And then, partly to remind him of where heâs sitting right now â not far from an elderly lady whoâs currently side-eying you. Weird; just a minute ago she was smiling at you. Ah, decency.
âUgh, can you only think about that?â you joke, right before wiggling a finger. âThis oneâs expensive. Youâre not ripping off shit.â
âHey, donât scold me. Youâre just as bad!â
âIâm not! In case you donât remember, I totally resisted when you offered to come into the changing room with me.â
âAh, ahhh,â he teases, cocking an eyebrow, âin case you donât remember, only very reluctantly.â You canât suppress the laugh, and he joins, familiar creases around his stellar eyes. âBut seriously, you look gorgeous.â
âRight! Iâll wear it to your next exhibition, okay? Or the party youâll definitely host once youâve established yourself as the nationâs biggest artist.â
And thatâs when he finally gets up, groaning a tiny bit before he slaps your ass and rubs it, delighted at your yelp. Challenges you, âDecide whether you want to be cute or sexy. I canât handle both.â
âBut you do every day,â you say, sulking. But your expression returns to normal when he pinches your butt, and you click your tongue, âOkay, okay. Weâll see what you can handle once we get to our next destination.â
Where youâll finally have your own bedrooms. Your peace. Your mattress to be demolished.
Excited doesnât do this feeling justice.
Jungkook must be thinking something similar; at least thatâs what you ascertain from the way he tongues his inner cheek, shaking his head. You donât provoke him further â 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, âHave you seen the others? I think we lost them at the souvenir shop, but they might be nearby.â
âYeah, they went into another souvenir shoâ wait, thatâs Eun, isnât it?â
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 youâre so loving the shops. Theyâre small, their owners as hospitable as you havenât 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! Theyâre popular spots; the backbone of the tourism in this area. Sell all kinds of snacks â candied fruits, hot drinks, gingerbread. October hasnât 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, itâs been a while since you ate or drank â and just imagining the fruity flavour, you canât help but suggest, âOhhh, I should get some, too. Wanna come?â
Jungkook doesnât answer right away. Your suspicion from before somewhat returns; his thoughts donât seem to align with yours right now. In fact, you guess them far away, pondering about anything but punch.
Youâre moved to ask again, but before you can utter a word, he answers, âHmm, no, I think Iâll get a coffee a bit later. Iâll go find Jimin and Taehyung in the meantime, though? You go get your punch.â
You blink at him, not sure if you should try again. But when you canât find a reason for any deviation in mood, you give him the free space he might need, telling him, âOkay. You know where to find us if you need to.â
âGot it,â 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 youâll reach tomorrow.
So you turn away, only for him to regard you a moment later.
Jungkook watches as you reach your friend, Eunâs 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.
Itâs 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 heâs 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 heâd 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, âWhat you doing?â into his ears, scaring him to death. The woman leans back, peeking, alarmed as she asks in an accent, âEverything good?â
Jungkook waves her concerns off. Lets her work. Turns to Jimin as he says, âGoddamn, dude. Donât do that.â
âYou look like you saw a ghost. Are you hiding something?â he asks, right before the lady walks out and presents the pretty packaging and small bag to Jungkook. âOh! Is this for me?â
Jungkook pays with a scoff, carefully placing it in his bag and then laughs, âCâmon.â 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, âAlright. Itâs for her. Iâll give it to her at the wedding.â
âDamn, a little present for the date at a wedding? Youâre down bad.â
âHow did you guess that?â Jimin chuckles, patting Jungkookâs back as the younger one smirtles. Soon telling Jimin, âNot a word to her, though. Or anyone. Okay?â
âMy lips are sealed.â
Thatâs it. At least for a while. Both pairs of hands pushing into their jeansâ pockets at once, they trek side by side in silence, head moving left, right, up and down. Itâs awkward until it isnât â until Jimin collects some courage and then spits, âListen.â
Another pause. Just for a moment. Enough for Jungkookâs tremendous eyes to look up, a finger scratching his temple as he hears Jimin articulate words he never expected, âI know I said my piece that night already, butâŠâ A grimace, kissing his lips, then, âIâm really sorry for doubting you so much at first. I shouldâve given you a chance much sooner.â
Well, fuck.Â
For weeks and months, Jimin refused to trust him with a steadfast resolution. Didnât waver even when you attempted to convince him otherwise. There was a prickly dislike in the manâs 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. Jiminâs 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 timeâŠ
âBut you have given me a chance now,â Jungkook defends, Jimin nodding, âand I appreciate that just as much.â
âYou remember what I said to you back then?â
Of course⊠he might remember each detail of that night forever.
âOf course,â Jungkook echoes, âyou said you were growing fond of me. Trusted me.â
âAnd I meant it.â
âShe said you said it because you knew she was fond of me.â
Jimin chuckles, the sound high-pitched and pleasant, melodic. âWell, I guess thatâs true to some extent. But itâs definitely not just that.â He reviews his thoughts; then, âItâs more so the fact that you came back.â
That he came back.
Jimin doesnât 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 didnât think he needed.
âAnd in hindsight,â Jimin speaks on, âwhile I disagree with what you did before that,â a sting in Jungkookâs beating heart, âI think your reasons were selfless. Lack of communication here and there, but⊠you want her happy, right?â
Thereâs no debate about this.
âSo much,â Jungkook immediately agrees, âit just doesnât make sense, you know? That someone like her should be sad.â
âI agree. And you came back, thatâs what it is. Youâre here. I think I was fond of you because you gave her a sense of⊠safety.â He shrugs his shoulders, hands still buried in his pockets. Gives a glance to the variety of passersby. âMaking her feel protected and like she was worth something when others didnât. And in turn, you gave her something to fight for, too.â
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?
Jungkookâs heart stirs. A sudden affection for your friend awakens. No. His friend, too.
âYouâre just half as bad, huh?â he says, urging another laugh out of Jimin.
âNo, you.â More snicker. âBut seriously. Since we were teenagers and she was first confronted with⊠all the issues around her, sheâs 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!â
He raises his hand in defence, and Jungkook shakes his concerns off, mumbling that itâs okay, that itâs true.
So Jimin continues, âBut just⊠whenever you might feel like youâre not doing enough â because letâs be real, we all do sometimes â remember that you make at least one person happy.â
Crazy. This is crazy. An alternate reality, for sure.
âI never expected to hear this from you, but⊠I really am thankful, Jimin.â
Jimin nods before he stops, as if remembering something. âAnd if it helps. Iâm really glad you joined us here. I mean you know Tae and Yoongi better, but Eun loves you.â
Jungkook titters, shy as Jimin nudges his arm, but silencing when he looks ahead, not early enough to stop Jiminâs addition, âAnd by the way, sheâll love that. Will feel like the bride, probablyââ
Jungkook grits his teeth at the very last word, as if staggered by another ghost appearing in front. Jiminâs eyes follow Jungkookâs, eyes widening a couple inches as he realises his mistake; met with your bright gaze as you near the men with Eun and question, âWhat are you guys talking about?â
Youâre so cheerful and curious, impossible to resist. Jiminâs lie nearly doesnât come out, but when it does, it happens smoothly enough, âHe was just gushing about your dress. Told me how he already knows youâll be the talk of the night.â
âCome onnnn,â you urge, your smile falling, replaced by a scowl, âthis is so weak. I know you, Park. Thatâs not what you were talking about.â
âIt is!â Jungkook chimes in as shamelessly as he can. Guilt floods him â but there are certain sacrifices that are necessary for love, arenât there? âI told you many times how hot you look in it. I did, you canât contradict that.â
Jungkookâs 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 wonât get anything out of them.
Besides, you love surprises. You wonât ruin it for yourself.
So you wave the white flag, only saying, âI donât really believe you, but okay,â before turning, gripping Jungkookâs hand and adding, âListen. You donât get to drink a good punch every day. Screw the coffee, try it for me. Yoongi is still there.â
And as the two of you walk away, Jimin follows, ignoring Eunâs curious look. Focuses on how Jungkook turns to him just a little, smiling in mischief but also in something likeâŠ
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, itâs gimbap.
Youâve heard a ton about it today; from his favourite kind to how itâs 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, heâs still craving them, restless on the hostel lobby couch as he says, âDo they have room service or something? Do they sell gimbap?â
His attention is directed towards Jimin, the main organiser of your trip; everybodyâs been posing questions today as if heâs studied the town and journey to the tiniest detail. Jimin rubs a palm over his tired eyes, sighing before he speaks.
âNo, this isnât a very luxurious place anyway,â he explains, âand besides. Youâre making me hungry, too.â
Jungkook leans into him as he asks, âArenât you quite close with the receptionist?â Pause. âDo you think theyâd let us take a couple things from the kitchen and make it ourselves?â
âWow, you really are craving it,â Taehyung mocks, but Jungkook skillfully ignores him.
âJungkook, this is a lot of special treatment to ask for,â Jimin then claims, waiting for a response, but nothing comes back.
You lean forwards when your friend shakes his head, trying to understand whatâs going on. And when you find Jungkookâs big, twinkling eyes staring longingly, you know heâs gotten to Jimin, too. Because the latter sighs again, adding, âIf you charm them, maybe.â
âCome on. I know how to charm people,â 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.
Heâs brave, you must say; for an initial and past introvert, good food certainly makes him courageous. Jimin first gestures towards the reception, mumbling a, âGo ahead,â but barely a second later, heâs on his feet with a deep exhale, hearing Jungkook say, âDecided to help me?â
âOnly because Iâm hungry, too. Can make them together.â
Whatever scenario you just witnessed, it couldâve 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.
Youâre 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, âThatâs new.â
Itâs 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 theyâre pulling out the biggest, brownest eyes the world shall ever see, the mellowest voices outing their plea â 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 âOhâ with his mouth, as if to whistle without ever doing it. They donât come back to you yet; settle on another table at the back instead, hands full of ingredients. Thereâs more room there for sure.
They spread the stuff across the table, rolling up their sleeves. You canât 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 canât believe it. What an odd sight â but good for them.
âThatâs rare indeed,â 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, âHey. Do you play?â
âHm?â Yoongi looks back at you, puppy eyes in full effect, and then switches between you and the instrument. âAh. Yeah, I play sometimes.â
âHe plays all the time,â Taehyung corrects.
Yoongi raises a hand in something like defence, humble as ever as he says, âIâve been learning. But I think I have gotten better, though thereâs still a long way to go.â
âAny song you enjoy playing the most?â you ask, leaning in.
âOhh, youâll like this.â His eyes are widening, waking, sobering up. As you see new stars being born in his dark eyes, you know youâve introduced the right topic. âYou like oldies, donât you?â
âI do, actually! How do you know?â
Taehyung chimes in, âJungkook told us. Like literal months ago.â
Perhaps itâs the new sentiments youâre 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 hasnât 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.
âWait,â you say, âin which context? Iâm nosy, and now I want to know.â
âHe said Yoongi would like you because your favourite song is⊠what was it again?â
Taehyung directs his gaze imploringly to Yoongi, but itâs Eun who answers fondly, âItâs Canât Take My Eyes off You. Ever since⊠always.â
You cock an eyebrow at Yoongi, teasing, âSo is it true? Do you like me then?â
âI adore you.â
Your face heats up more. âYou didnât tell me what you like playing the most.â
âI would say I enjoyâŠâ
âOr wait. Donât tell me. What if you played it?â
âNow hold onââ
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, âGo ahead, please.â
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, âI know you want to.â
Yoongi is uncaring and unapologetically him, but heâs just as shy when met with attention. Yet, you know him enough to understand he often does whatever somebody asks of him, so youâre barely surprised when he flashes a thin-lipped smile and agrees, âYeah. Alright.â
He situates the guitar on his lap carefully, treating it like a newborn as he mutters at the same time, âWhat should I play? Maybe this?â
His fingers strum a few chords that you donât 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, âWhatever crosses your mind first.â
He doesnât answer, handling the instrument. Heâs focused, his lips slightly apart, his expression impossibly composed. He murmurs another, âThis should do,â and when he plays just the first three chords, you already know what heâs 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.
âWhich oneâs this?â Eun asks, leaning into Taehyung whoâs barely alive at this point. The music probably doesnât help.
But apart from him, most of the heads turn, even if just very few present. Thereâs a quiet couple near Jimin and Jungkookâs 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, âDance Me to the End of Love. Leonard Cohen originally, but this seems like a very⊠calm version of it.â
Yoongi nods a little, never stopping the music, but adds, âThe Civil Wars. Covered it.â
âRight.â
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 weddingâŠ
You break the longing gaze when Jimin nudges Jungkookâs elbow, chin nodding towards your group as if the latter isnât 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 heâs reached the end. Calm, soft thrums. Fading slowly, snapping you out of something you didnât know just yet.
Heavy affection crowds your chest, lifting all sorrows off your heart. Youâre 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, âAnd how did that feel?â
âSurprisinglyâŠâ Yoongi angles his head, and then changes the movement into a nod. âComforting.â
âIsnât that special? Feeling something through the very music you put your soul into?â
Itâs 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 heâ
âYou play?â 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.
âHow do you know?â you wonder.
âYou talk like you do.â
âI didnât want to give any spoilers,â Eun confesses from the side, comfortably closing into Taehyung, âso I didnât say anything. But Iâve heard her play.â
âAh,â you voice, ânot often. Was I any good?â
âAs much as I remember.â
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, âI⊠I play a little. Dad taught me the guitar and a bit of the piano when I was younger.â You mimic Yoongiâs gestures from before, making yourself comfortable with the bottom of the guitar on top of one leg. âAlways enjoyed the guitar more, though. Felt productive, feeling the cornea on my fingertips.â
âDamnâŠâ Taehyung makes, and you smile at him, nodding as if to say, âYouâre alive, too!â
âThen you should definitely play something,â Eun says.
âYouâre all okay with that?â
âPlease,â Yoongi confirms, gesturing for you to start, âyou donât need our permission at all.â
So you nod. Getting used to the steely feeling, preparing mentally as you donât need to tune the guitar anymore. You start the song in mind, an equally important oldie as Yoongiâs piece; and then you go another brave step further as you start humming.
You wish Taehyung, Jungkook or Jimin could do that for you. Theyâre better singers. Youâre 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.
âWise men say, only fools rush inâŠâ
You donât know why you chose this song. You donât know why you didnât 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 didnât 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 JungkookâŠ
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, youâd say heâs looking at you like⊠like heâd die for you.
Love. Yearning. Affection uncurbed.
He cradles his cheek, putting his elbow on the arm of the couch, lost as if heâs dreaming. He could fully throw you out of balance just now. If you hadnât played this song with your father a dozen times, committing each movement to memory, you probably wouldâve 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, youâve grown fond of his little gestures. You didnât think you could feel so shy over the way he kisses the air in your direction, expression so hazy.
A couple months ago, you wouldâve never expected not to roll your eyes over his little, gentle antics.
But youâre not. Instead, youâre trying not to let show how much he affects you, nodding towards the applause before you ask, âSo I take it, it was good?â
âGood?!â Eun blurts in disbelief, leaving it at that with a shake of her head.
âYou keep surprising me, angel,â Jungkook admits, âI donât know what to do with this anymore.â
âWith what?â
Heâs 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, âYou chose the right song, didnât you?â
Yeah. A little dose of Elvisâs Canât Help Falling in Love fits the situation quite well, doesnât 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 Jungkookâs 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 donât know when this became a session of nostalgic karaoke, remembering a time you never experienced.
Itâs 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 youâve 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 donât struggle with choosing their comfort in the room, while you pull at Jungkookâs leg as it dangles off the upper bed.
âIâm going to come up,â you warn, trying to tickle the bottom of his foot before he crosses his legs, smirking down at you. âAnd I will be so annoying.â
âIs that news?â he wonders, and you open your mouth wide in surprise, hearing a chuckle from the couple behind you.
âBabe. I called shots on the upper bunk.â
âYou did not.â
âItâs a lot more fun up there. And I thought youâd like sleeping down there.â
Jungkookâs eyebrows kiss, his expression questioning as he asks, âWhat made you think that?â
Well, now that you think of it, your presumptions were flawed. You assumed he wasnât too picky, always a deep and peaceful sleeper at home. Defeated, you shrug your shoulders, telling him, âYou had a mattress on the floor when you moved into the apartment.â
âThatâs⊠an impeccable argument. I canât even respond to it.â
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 wonât work. So you only tilt your head, squinting his eyes at him, and then drop onto the bed below him.
âDonât you fart, though,â you tell him, registering a goofy laugh with a fond smile. Itâs okay. Maybe tomorrow. Either way, itâs 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.
âWe were lucky with the weather. I bet itâs raining back at home.â
Oh⊠have you finally grown into the type of adults who smalltalk about the sun and the clouds? The precipitation and humidity?
Jungkook answers, âCloser to the equator. The weather is best over here in the fall.â
Then, Yoongi, âHopefully itâs as nice at the beach, too.â
âIt better be,â Jimin chimes in, âIâve been looking forward to our game for ages. Iâll play in the rain if need be.â
âOh god, can you imagine?â you add, switching to your left side, hands under your temple. Youâve been thinking about the game just as much â chaos with a big fat portion of craze. âWe wouldnât even be able to get up if it rained.â
âWeâd get nowhere,â Jungkook confirms, and you imagine him nodding towards the ceiling, arms under his head.
âThatâs what. Doesnât it sound fun? Wouldnât matter anyway⊠the rain would at least kill my competitive side, you know?â 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 doesnât, Jungkook challenges, âYour competitive side means nothing if youâre gonna lose anyway.â
âDude. Be careful. Thereâll be nothing but regret if we end up being on the same team,â Jimin says.
âTrue, true,â you hear Jungkook respond, just as Yoongi lets out an amused snicker, aligning with your muttered, âNow, that, I wanna see.â
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, âDo we need to sleep? We could just stay awake and talk all night.â
But your suggestion proves redundant â 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 youâve fallen asleep.
You canât stay silent for this long; and youâre not moving. Jungkook clicks his tongue, fond but a tease as he jokes, âI drove all day and still she falls asleep first.â
Yoongi and Jiminâs laughs are cautiously quiet, exhausted, soon giving way to deep breaths like yours until theyâve fallen asleep, too.
Weirdly, it takes some time until Jungkook can join your land of dreams. Thereâs a strange yearning in his chest that heâs 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?
Youâve really done a number on him.
The minutes prove long, soon stretching to what he perceives as hours. Jungkook doesnât 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.
âManâŠâ Jungkook quietly complains, letting his left arm swing between the bed rails.
Sleep isnât 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 youâre off again, he hears a couple seconds laterâ
âKook?â
No, he must be insane. It must be insane how his heart stirs at your tiny, wispy voice. You wash over him like⊠relief.
âBaby,â he calls out in a whisper, once more moving to look at you â or the darkness below. âYouâre awake?â
âCanât sleep properly. I really hate sleeping in other bedsâŠâ
âRight? Me too.â He reaches out for you, hoping youâll notice the movement, and when your soft fingers get ahold of two of his digits, he breathes out in gratification. âAnd⊠I miss you here.â
You hum, rubbing your thumb over his palm, mumbling, âIsnât it ridiculous? How we canât go a night like this.â
âHmmâŠâ
âI miss you, too.â
Patience is a virtue he hasnât 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 motherâs thoughts. All possible.
But you⊠distanced from your touch and your lips, not feeling your breath as he does every night isâŠ
Pretty damn shit.
âWait,â he murmurs, pulling his fingers out of your grip. He hears you mutter a small, âHuh?â 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 heâs touching the ground, agile as a cat, you understand what heâs 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, âUhm, I⊠Baby, I donât know if itâs a good ideaââ
But you donât seem to have much of a say in this matter â because youâre soon outnumbered by Jungkook and his obsession with you, shifting on the bed until youâre nearly pressed against the wall.
He wraps an arm around your waist before the tight space can suffocate you, soon leaning back a little â close to rolling off the mattress? â 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, âYou were saying?â
âI⊠I was saying you feel so warm.â
âMmmh,â he hums, towing you in impossibly close, planting a kiss on your head before resting his cheek against it, âyou are, too.â
âDo I feel better than your bed up there?â
âA lot better.â His palm flattens over your back; the scent of his shampoo, his fabric softener and him dizzies you. âMakes me feel a bit less sorry about keeping you awake.â
âDonât worry,â you sigh into his soft cotton shirt, feeling the lines of his pecs against your lips, âAm exhausted. Iâll fall asleep fast. Especially like thisâŠâ
âOh⊠glad to be of service then.â
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. Itâs said that pressing something comforting against your chest, such as a pillow or stuffed toy, works wonders on an insomniac mind. You guess thatâs what you are for each other.
Even when youâre not home. Even when the space barely suffices for one body.
Which, as you brood over his sudden presence next to you, reminds youâ
âYou wanted the upper bunk bed,â 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.
âShut up,â he says, thumb running over where he nipped you. âOkay. Do you know why I wanted you to sleep down here?â
You smile. Youâre 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.
âI think I doâŠâ you admit. âI think I figured it out.â
Because.
Because youâve fallen out of bed one too many times. Because of some days, when you werenât 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 thatâs 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.
âIâm not gonna risk your clumsy ass to fall off a bunk bed,â he says.
âThereâs a railiââ
âStill. One never knows with you. In any case⊠youâre not getting hurt on vacation, okay?â
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 itâs 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, âIs that right? Weâll see about that once we play the game.â
You finish your sentence dramatically, and he answers with a breathy, âYeah, yeah,â 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, âI really mean so much to you.â
âMhm⊠So very much.â
Itâs 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 heâs blended out the world when you look up at him. You know heâs staring back quietly.
You know what heâs 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 silhouetteâs mouth part before it arrives at yours. Kisses you tenderly. Doesnât rush or force his tongue in, just lazily moving.Â
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 thatâs why the moment feels so intimate.
Because thereâs no impatience. No other sentiment but adoration.
As he moves back again, he doesnât talk right away. Takes a deep breath. Thenâ
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, âLove me?â
Your heart.
This treacherous thing â cries and flutters, punctured and whole at once. Youâre constantly breathless and speechless, so you wonder how he manages to say, âPlease love me, too.â
Doesnât he know how easy that is? Doesnât he know who he truly is, what his stardust of a soul is made of? That he was born to be loved. That heâs not responsible for those who do not, rather a ray of serene moonlight who doesnât need to show anyone that heâs just that.
âNo need to beg,â you tell him, âyouâll never need to beg.â
Another beat of silence. Heâs 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 itâs 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, âYou know. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but we could make it work. Itâs not that tightââ
âIn theory. But we wouldnât sleep well, right?â he ponders.
Wrong. You soon prove him wrong, unpredictable as you are half of the time when youâre 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 doesnât do this, heâll 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 canât recall ever having been on a mountain before; considering your countryâs 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; didnât enjoy heights, but depths.
You knew that early on.
Satisfied, however, you hide your mouth in your jacket. Youâre 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, âDamn it.â
Jimin rubs your arms from behind, the ecstasy clear as day as he cheers, âCome on, no pauses now! We finally made it.â
That you did. No turning back. Youâve 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.
Youâre 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.Â
Sometimes, along the descent of the mountain, you spot people hiking. They donât take the lift; they trek up and down, with these cool hiking sticks of theirs.
Jungkook and Taehyung didnât come with you. Or rather, theyâll arrive a bit after you. Namjoon rang up Jungkook just before you got ready to leave, asking for his apprenticeâs 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 â partly to not leave him alone, and partly because heâs 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, âAngel, as much as I want you here, I wonât be able to talk to you anyway. Iâll be there in no time.â
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, thereâs 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 thatâs where your serenity ends.
Because the bridge isnât as short as you thought. Moves a little, mostly solid, but⊠holy shit, were you this high up all the time? They say donât look down in moments like these, but you canât help, and God, thereâs an immeasurable distance between you and the ground andâ
Itâs not immeasurable. No, youâre an idiot. But you still canât help it; stare down, gulp.
You reach to the railing with a careful hand. Why do they⊠how do theyâŠ
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 youâ
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 âSee?â over the wind before you slap the sudden hands off your shoulders. Your knees are shaking and youâre uncertain who the fingers belong to, but youâre still ready to fight.
The voice isnât; the startled gasp reveals as much.
You turn, only to find your boyfriendâs 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, âSorry! Sorry, baby.â
âKook! Timing,â you blurt, scowling in distress, yet immediately holding onto his waist once youâve grasped the reality enough.
âAngelâŠâ he starts, looking into the hell below. âAre you scared of heights?â
No time to be sarcastic; you donât have the breath to. So you admit, âA little.â
âI didnât know,â 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. âIâm sorry. Do you want to go or just stay here? We can stay here.â
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, âAll good?â
âYeah,â Jungkook promises, âyou can go ahead if you want.â
âMmmh,â Taehyung hums; doesnât sound too sure about leaving the two of you here. âYou need a hand? I can go ahead, Jungkook follows.â
UhhâŠ
âIs that a good idea?â you mumble.
âIt could be.â
Could be? And if it isnât?
Then again. Youâre here for a reason. Youâd 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 itâs up to you.
So you decide, âNo, Iâll go. I came here for this, and I donât know when the next opportunity will arise. Fears exist to be conquered!â
âHear, hear!â Taehyung cheers, just as Jungkook praises, âSee? Thatâs my girl!â
It helps you, their way to motivate. Cautiously, you place a hand in each of their palms, moving one step after another. Theyâre determined to take care of you, constantly checking if youâre 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 youâre not holding onto anything solid, basically standing freely.
If one falls, all of you do â which, in truth, is sheer impossible. The railing is high enough. But your brain isnât quite computing properly right now. You let go of Taehyungâs hand, grabbing the railing, but still clutching Jungkookâs grip.
âGo ahead,â your shaky voice commands; and Taehyung nods this time, no other choice left. âItâs okay.â
âIâm right here if you need me,â 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, âImagine itâs the amusement park, yeah? Wanna guess the remaining steps? I think itâs⊠uh⊠thirty more till the end.â
You exhale, then inhale. Look in front of you instead of down, blinking rapidly before you let out a trembling laugh and counter, âAre you kidding⊠Looks like a hundred.â
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, âForty-five! I say forty-five steps.â
And then, you count together. Youâre 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, âShould know better than to compete with a munchkin.â
You guffaw awkwardly, howling over the wind, âThis is actually fun,â not noticing that heâs barely holding you anymore when you jump over to the mainland again.
âWhat a journey, huh?â Jungkook praises, patting your back. âIâm proud of you. Itâll only get easier from here.â
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, youâre the first to climb up, Jungkook treading on your heels, fingers still entwined with yours. And up there, your mouth drops â 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, âI know, right?â
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.
Youâre 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 â theyâre thick, vast. You wonder what animals inhabit them. Bears? Wolves? Birds youâve 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 isnât 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, youâll be heading back down. But you donât feel any hurry. Nothing matters.
âThisâŠâ you finally whisper as you catch yourself, âmakes me wanna cry.â
You put your hands on the chest-high stone wall. Jungkookâs arms make themselves home around your body, pulling you in, pushing him close, telling you, âThen cry. Isnât that what catharsis is about?â
âItâs just so pretty.â
âIt is.â
âLike⊠is this really our world, Jungkook?â You shake your head against him, ruining your hair as his chin moves against your scalp. âThe 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.â
You fill your lungs with the crisp air, more thankful for it than ever. âThereâs so much more.â
âThere is, right? A lot more,â he confirms.
âLook at this,â you say, chin gesturing towards no particular spot ahead, âwherever there arenât people to fuck things up, thereâs peace like this.â You sniffle; whether due to the temperature or sentiments, you canât say. âWhat if we became nomads?â
His laugh is as sudden as your statement, differing so vastly from the rest of the poetry you spat.
He concludes, âI think youâll really like it back home.â Youâre confused until you understand he means his hometown; to that, you nod enthusiastically. âThere are so many wonders out there like this one. I want to show you the prettiest places and the prettiest things.â
ââŠDo you already have something in mind?â
âOf course I do,â he responds matter-of-factly, tapping his finger against your stomach. âI just wonât tell you yet.â
âHa. I wouldnât want you to.â
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 youâve transcended this realm and entered another.
But as you hear everyone elseâs voices again, laughing and joking and teasing, you remember youâre still very much here, on the same Earth you know. With your everyday thoughts and lives. Which reminds youâŠ
You turn to the side to look at him, his face in immediate proximity to yours. You ask, âWhat did Namjoon want?â
âOh, just needed to discuss a couple things. Exhibition.â
âSounded super urgent, though.â
âI mean, it kinda was,â he answers, catching the strands of hair that the breeze blows into your face, tucking them back, âhe needed a status update. We also spoke about the style the gallery collector likes andââ
âWait. Youâre still sticking to your own style, though, right?â
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, thereâs somebody soothingly rubbing their backs in bad times. Embracing them in success. Pushing them forward, lending them bravery.
You.
Youâre who they must be talking about. Unshakably by his side.
âOf course, angel,â he says, âI think having your signature style is always the most important aspect.â
âGood. Youâre the coolest, Kook. Just so you know.â 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, âI still donât know what youâre painting.â
âI will never show you my paintings until an exhibit rolls around. Mostly because youâre my muse. My girl.â
He must think that this doesnât wreck you inside out. Puts you back together, pieces of puzzles reunited that you didnât know were lost. You feel something new all the time; is this possible? Surely, there canât be this many emotions anyway, right?
If you didnât feel it with your own heart, you wouldnât believe itâŠ
âButâŠâ you begin, âyouâll let me see those that I donât inspire, right?â
âOf course. Always.â
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, âThis really is pretty.â
He doesnât answer. Thereâs no answer to this. Whatever his mind is conjuring and his heart trying to convey doesnât just have to do with the nature stretching in front of you. Of course itâs gorgeous. Of course, your worldâs unique.
Of course, itâs home, and home feels warm, pleasant, familiar.
Thereâs no doubt that the sight and the moment evoke something rare in him. But heâs seen these things before; when he was younger, he was used to this. What heâs 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 doesnât answer right away because the right response doesnât come to him immediately. But when he does, he collects his breath, and then voicesâ
âI love you, angel.â
Your heart skips one or two or three beats. You look at him again.
âPeople 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,â he says, his voice velvety soft. âBut I feel that way with you every day, you know? I do⊠I do love you so much.â
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 youâre briefly displeased but not surprised when youâre pulled out of your daydream.
Taehyung is gathering the crew behind you, asking for a group picture. Youâre 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. Youâre enough, too â a force of nature, too.
He doesnât 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. Youâre 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 youâll wait at the exit.
Since it takes barely five minutes to reach the bottom, you donât 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 donât hear it when Eun says, âYouâre both glued to each other, huh?â
Jungkookâs wide, wondering eyes ogle into hers, surprised as he asks, âIs that⊠bad? Too much?â
âWell, definitely much,â Eun laughs, âbut very sweet, too. By all means, donât change.â
âAh. Ahhh, that answers one of my questions at least.â
Eun looks at him in curiosity, though entertained and maybe even a little baffled that sheâs ever been the object of his attention in any way. So she voices, âOh? Which oneâs that?â
âJust confirms that I have your blessings.â
Eun catches his admission as a popular line from a million movies before, immediately puffing out a laugh. She didnât anticipate this, out of all things; blinking, somewhat flattered even.
âMy blessings?â she repeats. Her smile, combined with the appearing crease between her eyebrows, dips her expression in something that reveals, âAre you joking?â
Which is presumably why Jungkookâs thought shrinks the very next moment, pupils shaking just a little as he mutters, âWell⊠yeah?â
âOkay. And what if I didnât give them to you?â
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, âUhmâŠâ
âIâm just messing with you,â she clarifies, watching one corner of his lips rise. âBut also, why is it needed, you know? Would you leave her if I didnât bless you two? Or stop loving her?â
Jungkookâs surprised about the L-drop; of all people, Eun must have known from the very beginning that he loved you. Thereâs no bewilderment in her voice; she emits the word casually.
He blinks, albeit discarding all preceding hesitation immediately as he admits, âNo.â
âExactly,â Eun agrees, wiggling a finger with a wise, subtle nod on the side, âyou donât need my blessings. If youâre sure about her, you donât need anyoneâs. Iâll trust the process.â
Thatâs 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 didnât? 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 heâs still about to do breathes a whisper of a soft Iâve been thinking of you all this time.
âBut,â Eun continues; Jungkookâs ears perk up, âif you need to know. I do adore you two together. I know I tease you and stuff, but Iâve never seen a cuter couple.â
âAh. Even cuter than you and Tae?â
âMuch. Weâre not the sappy kind. Or well, he is, but⊠youâre straight up sugar. Makes me sick.â
Jungkook laughs, spying over his shoulder, seeing a glimpse of you as you look out of the window in wonder. âWell, she makes up most of that sweetness.â
âMaybe. God,â 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, âSometimes I wanna grab her face and squish her.â
âThe most precious, right?â
âIsnât she?â
Somebody to kill for. Somebody with a face that doesnât fit tears. The world did you wrong, but you exist to be happy. Youâre deserving of it; you could be the most enthusiastic soul if the universe allowed you.
No, fuck it. Fuck the universe.
Heâs here, right? He can do it, too. Guard you from harm; keep your smile plastered there.
And as if reading his mind, Eun continues, âIâve 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?â
No, it doesnât. In fact, Eunâs 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 heâs made up for it. He so deeply hopes he made up for it.
âIt sounds just right,â he says.
âI donât know if you already know, but you wonât meet anyone purer. Not saying this as her best friend⊠itâs true.â She shrugs a shoulder, as if to dismiss the corny statements; she truly isnât a mawkish one. âSo itâs a big deal to say I want you close to her.â
Her eyes shift away from him and straight to you; thereâs a gap between all the people, allowing a glance at you. And when Jungkook follows Eunâs gaze, you seem to feel it somehow, his eyes like Cupidâs 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 itâs 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 susurratesâ
âThank you, Eun.â
âHere you are.â
Jungkook is soft-spoken, his voice mellow; a textbook definition of a lullaby. Which is possibly why youâre 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. Theyâre 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 wasnât the entire rest of him. Hands in the pockets of the open bathrobe heâs 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 youâre 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.
âI was looking for you,â he says.
âOh, I just got here a couple minutes ago. Making the best out of the remaining time.â
âYeah. I just showered for a few minutes, too.â He pauses. Looks around the vacant pool save from the two of you, humming before he asks, âHey, do you need a moment to yourself?â
Your eyes widen as you look up, his expression suddenly cautious, as if heâs intruding your personal space. Curiously, you merely voice, âWhat?â
âJust. I know thereâs been a lot of interaction these days, so I get it if you need a break.â His finger moves to his temple, drawing circles in the air. âMy battery almost ran out, too.â
Oh. OhâŠ
If there was a way to hide your flattered smile, you still wouldnât. God, if he knew how rare of a person he is. How uniquely humane. If he knew that not everybodyâs 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 canât be there for them, itâs 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, âOh, no. I actually knew youâd find me here. Hoped for it.â
âIs that right?â 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. Itâs outrageously insane, how heâs perched there like heâs allowed to. As if it doesnât clearly state in your book that itâs illegal to look this way, that it should be retaliated somehow.
âItâs been a while since we were alone,â you tell him, âfeels like we didnât have many moments to ourselves.â
âThen, this is convenient, isnât it? An empty pool in the evening. Very clichĂ©.â
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, âOthers are probably too tired to be here. Or too cold. Weâre the only crazy ones here.â
âItâs warm enough, though,â he argues, sniffling, as if to contradict his point â thereâs something funny about it. âI bet itâs wet and grey back home.â A click of his tongue, watching you nod in agreement; after a beat of silence, he wonders, âAre you looking forward to tomorrow?â
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, âA lot! Itâll be a long day, weâll be exhausted, but⊠got a feeling itâll be worth it all.â
âYeah, but like. I think we can rest a lot after that, though,â he explains, flashing a wink to your astonishment. âMy childhood bedroom is cosy.â
âIâd hope so. We wonât be leaving it.â
He scoffs, rolling his eyes in jest before he agrees, âOf course not. Duh. Except for the wedding.â
âExcept for the wedding⊠sure,â 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.
Thereâs a sense of disbelief in the fact that, despite the crazy vastness of the world, itâs you who found your way to him, inches away. If luck exists, this must be it, right?
But he doesnât say any of it â donât 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, âArenât you cold?â
You shake your head, however, stating, âNot yet. Or⊠maybe a little. You can help me warm up?â
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 wouldnât mind if heâŠ
âIsnât this another clichĂ©?â he asks.
âHow so?â
âYouâll make me jump in, huh? Or no, wait. Youâre a brat,â he establishes as if remembering just now, rethinking his choice of words. âNo⊠youâll pull me in.â
âWhat? I wonât.â
âHow do I know that, though?â
âI mean, technically, you donât, and yes, I realise that doesnât help,â you blabber, tone shifting when he shakes his head with a laugh, âbut, you did just shower. I wouldnât want you to waste more time showering afterwards.â
He looks sceptical to no end; squinting his eyes, biting his lower lip, furrowing his eyebrows â the whole package. Leaning in, he lets you know, âI donât trust you this once, butâŠâ
And thatâs 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 â 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 donât belong into a utopian world like this. As if youâre 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 untilâ
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.
âUnfair,â 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, âMy pretty angel. Pouty little sweetheart of mine, hm?â 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 â you canât 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 andâ
âFuââ
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 canât help but scoff, more curses falling out of him, but never towards you. Only a reprimanding, âAngel, youâreâ you brat." Another cough. "Youâre too much.â
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 heâs 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, heâs broad. And fuck, heâs coming right for you.
You try to flee, hysterically laughing, probably too loud; but heâs a fast swimmer, arms soon around your waist, wrapping around you, tugging you in. He whispers into your ear, âTalking about clichĂ©s, baby, huh?â
As he holds you there, you swallow some water, spitting it out right away before you answer, âWell⊠thereâs a reason why theyâre clichĂ©s.â
âNot wanting to waste my time showering, my ass.â
âYouâre saying it sounds like a bad idea?â you whisper, breathless as he kisses your shoulder, his soft voice muttering a little, âWhat?â before you clarify, âShowering with me?â
âNah. Stop planting this thought in my head,â 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, youâll drown if he keeps that up. But then he adds, much to your already existing misery, âStop or I swear, we wonât even make it to the damn shower. Understood?â
âBeastââ
âYou say as if you donât know me already. Donât you know?â he asks, pausing, kiss moving to your jaw. âThat I get like this with you?â
âI⊠I do, so well. Not even this is surprising to me.â
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. Itâs 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 doesnât 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 youâre up again, you hear his voice farther away, urging, âCome on.â
And once you see him again clearly, heâs 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 â but it doesnât 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 couldnât 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 donât 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, âCome, baby.â
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, âOne could almost forget that weâre leaving in two hours. Ahh, I want to stay here.â
Right. Your group decided to check out in the late evening tonight â an exception at this hostel â to make the most of the day on the mountain and at dinner. But in a while, youâll set out for your new destination. The beach calls for you.
Youâll check in late at night over there, and then remain at the new hotel â no hostel this time â until the day after tomorrow.
âYeah. Just a bit more,â you say, sighing before you let him know, âBy the way⊠I do feel a lot warmer now.â
âGood,â he says, although you donât miss the beguiled smile he flashes as he looks away, âanything for you to not get sick.â He nudges your elbow with his. âNot before the big day.â
No, not the big day. If anything, youâre even more overjoyed over it than tomorrow. And nervous â oh, so nervous. You donât think youâll feel any different until the day rolls around.
What will happen at the wedding? Whatâs 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 donât think itâll make you fall for him harder â because you donât 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, âHey. What did Jimin mean when he said I should be excited for the wedding? What does he know?â
Jungkook sighs, shaking his head at your friendâs slip-up. He smirks, and then says, âWell, youâll see at the wedding, right?â
ââŠJungkook,â you challenge, and he looks at you so innocently, hiding whatever secret he shares with Jimin. But you donât fall for it, ideas already brewing in your mind; one blurted as you ask, âDid you get me something?â
But heâs unfazed â a good actor. âWait up,â he says, âif youâve got any theories, keep them to yourself, though! Youâre too smart for me.â
âCâmon, as if.â 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. âWait. Oh.â
He chuckles, a little lost in you as he copies, âOh?â
âJeon Jungkook⊠are you proposing?â
And thatâs 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, âI did not expect that. But sure, thatâs what it is.â
âWell, that cancels it out.â
âOh, babyâŠâ He pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, moving your head to look at him, kisses you again, just for a fleeting second. âYouâre so cute. So, so cute. I love your cute ass so much.â
Butterflies, butterflies, butterflies.
They never cease. You donât think youâll ever get over this word. You donât think thereâs a way to get used to Jeon Jungkook confessing his love â his love â 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, âLetâs go and hurry to that damn hotel. Hm?â
DAY 3
You love packing your bags, but you hate reorganising them. Like, stuffing back dirty clothes because thereâs nowhere else for them to go, changing your initial order.Â
You wonât empty your suitcase for that one remaining day anymore; youâll 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, thereâs no chance in hell youâre 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. Itâs only 8 oâclock 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 todayâs schedule doesnât begin before noon.
For some time, you merely lay on your sides of the bed, enjoying each otherâs company, brief kisses here, modest touches there â until you decided to make yourselves useful. Still tired, yet unable to fall back into sleep, being productive was all you could do.
Albeit, youâre 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 â whenever he spies the lavender 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, âHey!â
But heâs 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 heâd have to wait to actually see you wrapped in it.
His eyes were still wide, alright. Mouth drooling. And you understand â when you first laid eyes on it, you knew it was made to be yours: soft, pastel pink hue. Dreamy and ethereal. Shit, you canât wait to wear it.
Apparently, he canât either.
Because he declares, âYouâre gonna be so fucking pretty in this.â
âYou told me.â
âAnd Iâll keep doing so. My god, Iâll need to keep an eye on you all night!â
You laugh. âAh? Why?â
He shrugs a shoulder, explaining matter-of-factly, âSome of my friends there are still single. Gotta shield you from their shit. I mean, they loyally respect me, but then again⊠itâs you.â
âOh, oh,â you voice, tutting, âand the girls? Are some of them single, too?â
âWell, I guess so, butââ
âNothing but. Iâve 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,â you ramble, and he listens, lips twitching; he forces the laugh back. âNo, youâre sticking by my side that night, Jeon.â
You raise a finger, wiggling it like a warning, blabbing the most ridiculous, âNo running away with other chicks.â
âAs if, you idiot,â he jests, âeven if I got shitfaced as heck and you carried me home and I didnât realise it was you? And you pretended to be somebody else â Iâd still tell you that I need to go fetch my girlfriend.â
You cover your mouth as laughter fills the air; youâre sure your eyes are sparkling at the fantasy, and your voice changes, euphoric to an unknown extent as you say, âOh my god. I so want to witness that one day. Iâm gonna try to get there.â
âI believe you. What else will you be wearing? This? Wait,â 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, âIs this part of your attire?â
âWell, now you ruined a perfect surprise.â
âWhat! I donât think I did, though? Wait for my reaction. It wonât be any less than you expect.â
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 heâs 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 youâre reminded of your two-days-old clothes again.
You mutter, âGonna have to ask your mom if sheâs okay with me using your washing machine.â
âShe will be, for sure.â
âIâll even hang them to dry myself.â
âYeah?â
âMhm! Shit, Jungkook. Iâm so excited!â you exclaim, fingers moving fast over your stuff, and he keeps watching. âI wanna tattle about you with your mom! And I canât wait to meet Ria, either. She sounds so cool andââ You peer up at him, and when you catch him smiling, you wonder, âWhat?â
âNothing, justâŠâ
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 youâre between his legs, your own crossed, obliging wordlessly.
Then, he speaks again, âCan you kiss me? Really wanna kiss you.â
He always wants to kiss you. And staring at these rosy, pretty lips of his, arched so prettily, you donât think you fare any better.
So youâre walking on air when his hands settle on your waist to tickle you, forcing you to relocate them down to your hips. You ask, âDo you ever get enough?â
âHmm⊠Do I look like I do?"
âI mean. Do you really just want to kiss me, baby?â you inquire, but heâs already onto pecking your lips, pulling at them. You place your arms around his neck. âYour eyes look just like they did yesterday.â
âAh, really?â A featherlight kiss on your neck. âSo I wonât have my wish granted?â
âYou⊠Youâre stupid,â is all you say before you prove him wrong â 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, youâre 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 itâs 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 â trying to catch another kiss, eyes drooping and lips parted.
But when he realises youâre pausing, not granting him what he needs, he looks up into your eyes. You say, âThought so. Thatâs,â you touch his hand over your ass, âwhat your eyes said. Even after you wrecked me just last night, huh?â
âSorry,â he mutters with a grin â but his expression soon changes. Back once more against the bed, he promises, âI⊠if you donât want to, we donât have to though. Iâm okay with just organising our stuff or chilling.â
Oh, the way he touches your heartâŠ
You blink, affection in your pupils reflecting in his. You coo, and then call, âOh, babyâŠâ
âNo, seriously. Whatever youâre comfortable with, my love.â
âIâm⊠Iâm comfortable with you, you know? If I ever feel like not doing something or disagreeing with you⊠Iâll be honest with you.â
He silences for a moment. Keeps gaping at you. Then, âDo you feel like you can?â
But no matter how deep his insecurities are, your answer is immediate, âAlways.â Swift pause. âKook, Iâ I know you still fear I could distance myself from you. I see it, but⊠I wonât. As long as youâre willing to stay, I will, too.â
âI will. I promise. And Iâll never ever do anything to hurt you again. Not on purpose⊠okay?â
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 youâre here despite all the despites.
But if you need to, youâll keep dispeling his fears all your life.
So you say, âI know. I know.â Brushing through his hair. âAnd I want this.â
âIt wonât hurt? We just did last nightââ
âIf it does, we can stop. I always want you. BesidesâŠâ You circle over his lap, your hips a tease. You feel the bulge stir. âI canât blueball you.â
Jungkook smirks in the way only heâs able to, clutching your butt again, and you catch your lower lip with your teeth. He states, âBrat, acting like itâd be the first time.â
âYouâre just⊠so hard already. Canât do this to you. Or me. Not today.â
âBabe⊠you being so sweet makes it worse. And this isnât even its final state, you know?â
âOf course I know.â
Oh, of course you do. Whenever you think it canât 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.
Heâs 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, thereâs 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.
âYouâre so brave,â he deduces, âlike you forgot yesterday.â
âI could never. Maybe⊠maybe Iâm just trying to repeat it.â
âOh⊠smart, smart. If thatâs your wish.â
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.
Youâre 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. Heâs 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 heâs 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, âKiss me again?â
âNot yet. I wanna see you wind.â
âWhyâŠ? Youâre so meanââ
âJust now. Come on. Look at me.â
You do. Youâre met with a hungry beast whoâs yearning for you, simultaneously so soft â 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 heâs not stupid; heâs cautious. Gauging your reaction.
This man⊠this manâŠ
âWant me to push it in?â Jungkook then questions, making your eyes rip open; you didnât expect the inquiry this soon, but youâre not opposed to it at all.
You nod, eyebrows furrowed. Your voice is feeble when you agree, âPlease.â
âPlease, yeah?â he repeats, just the head prodding your entrance â but then, he chuckles. âBaby. Take care of yourself when I canât. I canât fucking think, you know? But even I know youâre not ready yet.â
âIâŠâ
âJust a bit more, okay?â He slaps your pussy; you wince. âWanna get up and undress?â
âNo,â you instantly blurt, âwant you like this. Right now. I donât care about the shirt.â
âRight⊠so thatâs how it is.â
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.
âIs this my shirt, by the way? You stole it, didnât you?â he gathers.
You pretend, playing the innocent lamb, âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âI canât believe you. Stealing my clothes⊠and my perfumes,â he recollects, his voice going up and down. Heâs referring to the time you used his cologne just to keep his scent close; once. He was very amused by it. âWhatâs next? My heart?â
Only that you already exchanged both of yours. He knows, because he canât 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.
Thereâs never a single reason for him to react with surprise; if anybody in this world understands your body as well as you, itâs him. He knows you to the tiniest detail; so why the astonished, âOh? Oh, ohâŠâ
Then again, maybe thatâs all thatâs necessary to set the mood further; he doesnât elaborate on it, nor does he ask any questions. Instead, he French kisses your cunt with the techniques heâs 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. Itâs obvious in the twitches of your legs, and how he needs to keep them in place each time â 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 heâll feast on you enough.
Because heâs thorough; does enough work on you to divulge, âMaybe I was wrong and you are ready after all.â
ââŠM-maybe.â
âWish weâd brought the sex toys. Man, I want toâŠâ He touches your clit, painting patterns, a steady and diligent artistâs hand; and you canât help but imagine itâs the vibrator he often handles. âWouldnât that be good?â
âDonât⊠do this to me.â
A smug chuckle. âSorry, bae.â
Ever since he gave you the damn toys months ago, heâs teased you about them constantly. And ever since you started inhabiting the same walls as him, heâs prompted orgasm after orgasm. God, the last few weeks alone, heâd 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.
âJungkookâŠâ you start. He hums, but your brain blanks; you think about whatever you were going to say until you remember and jabber, âWeâd never get t-to breakfast then.â
âSo? Iâd still be having mine.â
Thought so.
âButâŠâ you argue, no clue why at all. âTheyâd be waiting.â
âI think theyâre just as bad as we are. Câmon.â
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 canât.
The motion only covers his ears, much to his disdain as he says, âStop⊠I canât hear you like this,â 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, âWhat if we added something to our collection one day? Hmm?â
His thumb toys right over your clenching hole; you grasp for a breath, airheaded as you admit, âI⊠donât know yet.â
âFine. Thereâs time.â
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, heâs 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 heâs grown impossibly solid. On his knees, he shifts on the mattress until heâs kneeling right over your face, and you raise your head, mouth ready and open without a single command necessary.
Heâs chuffed about your keenness; breathes out a laugh as he drags his cock between your lips and onto your tongue. Youâre 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 heâs dying and being reborn.
âIâm dying and being reborn, babe. What the fuck,â he repeats, immediately regretting it when he realises he spoke it out loud; because youâre right beneath him, eyes foggy but the sudden giggle entirely contrary.
âGlad to hear.â
Jungkook uses the separation from your lips to back away already; any longer and heâll 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.
Heâs 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 buildingâ
âCareful now,â 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 donât need toâ
Fuck.
Fuck, how big he feels when he digs in, not even fully inside yet.
Isnât 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, âI donât care who hears.â
Okay. Okay. Then⊠youâll stop holding back, right? You moan and call his name, hearing in his tender sounds and overjoyed, endlessly breathy and quiet laugh that heâs loving it. He asks, âCan I go farther in?â
âThought youâd never askâŠâ Yet, it doesnât happen. He refuses for some reason; which is why you work towards him instead, your hips upthrusting. Pushing at his ass, knowing how much heâs enjoying your helplessness. You say, âYou are mean.â
âMhm⊠especially to you, right?â
âEspecially to me,â you laugh. âYou say you love me and then edge me? Prove it, wonât you?â
âOhhhh no.â He drags out the syllable, a sudden change in his tone, as if youâve purposely teased him to a challenge. A you did not just say that kind of vibe. âYou will not doubt that I love you. Fuck no.â
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 thenâ bottoms out. His balls clash against your ass, your eyes rolling back. His words ring in your ears.
And then, heâs 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, doesnât 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, âAm craving this mouth⊠Get up.â
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 doesnât 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 youâre 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, thatâs when he stops moving, glancing up to the ceiling as if praying.
You slow down; wait as he catches his breath, and then ask, âWhat do you want me to do?â
Youâre 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; thatâs the mood you perceived. Thatâs 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. âMy god, would you look at that,â he drags, hardly believing that youâre looking at him like this. âBed. Lean over it.â
You listen; of course you do. Your knees press into the carpet, upper body flat on the bed. Ass out, arms on the mattress.Â
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 â 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 heâs soon determined to help â or to rile you up further, you canât 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 itâs 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, âYou wanna know, huh?â
âIâŠâ
Youâre not sure what heâs talking about, but you allow him to air his rage. He leans in, kisses your neck, wants to know, âWhatâs that like? You okay, baby?â
âIâm okay⊠Iâm so okayââ
âAnd so pretty like this. Youâre always⊠so pretty. Iâm so fucking lucky.â
âI want to see you.â
âHow did IâŠâ
âKookââ
âI know. I know you want to,â he says, but he takes another minute to fuck you hard, fast, revved up, and you donât complain. Not even when two of his fingers slap your cunt, multiple times, rapidly until he repeats, âI know. Would you turn around for me? Sit here?â
How couldnât 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. Itâs high enough for him to fuck you standing here; but he doesnât 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 youâre not just what you used to be? A way of passing time, a company to quench each otherâs thirst?
Then again, you know Jungkook. He never forgets. Never forgets what you are to him.
Repeats each time just as he is now, âHow did I end up with you?â Every time. Tells you every time that he cannot fathom his luck, that youâre more than heâll ever deserve. He adds, âYou want me to prove it to you?â
OhâŠ
Thatâs what heâ
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 youâre on your back, laying in front of him. Just the same position as before on the ground, but cosier; itâs easier to hover above you now, scanning your face like youâre the only star in the vast, expanding universe.
The only source of light in this darkened room.
âHey,â he calls, even though youâre 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 itâs impossible in a setting like this â maybe thatâs what he means when he says you reside in him.
Your existence in his chest, your eyes in his.
âI love you,â he then proclaims, âand Iâll show you all the fucking time if you need me to.â
âI⊠I want you toâŠâ
âGood. Good, baby. You know Iâll do anything, right? Not just this and not just now. Iâll do anything for you.â
You half-smile as he says it, as much as possible between your moans; you donât 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 donât need long to fall into a series of gasps and outright craze.
You understand youâre close when he pleads, âCan you touch yourself? Please?â
And it helps â considering that youâre 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 blissâŠ
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, âWhat happened?â
But the question is redundant â because as your mind clears, you gather what it could be.
You ruined the sheets. Youâll 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.
âYou squirted all over my dick,â Jungkook still clarifies.
âIâm sorryâŠâ
âWhat? No. It looks⊠it feels soâŠâ
He doesnât 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 doesnât; instead, he spills. Spills hotly, abundantly. You know the bed is soiled forever.
Somehow, youâre 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 â itâs fine, right? Youâre 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. Doesnât 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, âDo you believe me now?â
You titter. Even now, even after witnessing each of your reactions, your boyfriend wonât let the thought go. Set on what he feels for you, heâll probably prove it to you an entire lifetime long.
You promise, âI always will. From anyone in this world, Iâll believe it the most from you.â
âMy baby,â he coos. Waits. Then sighs before he says, âOkay, enough of that distraction. We have breakfast to catch. I bet you, five more minutes and theyâll knock.â
âOh⊠uh-oh. Quick shower and then hurry?â
ââŠGreat idea.â
Only, the shower isnât as quick as you anticipated â 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, theyâve just started, though.
Yoongi is the first to speak after youâve exchanged your polite Good mornings. In fact, he scolds rather gently, âYou guys are late. We need to be at the beach by noon, donât forget.â
âYeah, we justâŠâ You shrug. âWe were organising our suitcases.â
âYeah,â Jungkook nonchalantly confirms. âForgot the time.â
Your excuses are so casual, so careful, your eyes busy as they watch your hands smear butter and jam on your toast. Only, youâre 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 heâs about to say something bold before he actually doesâ
âOh, you fucked⊠You had the time to?!â
THE CHAPTER ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ đđŒ
1k block limit, beloved. you can read the remaining 10k of the chapter in this reblog!! the reblog begins with a new scene <3
#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts smut#bts fluff#jeongguk smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts x you#bts imagines#jungkook fic#bts angst#jungkook angst#jungkook
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⥠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 â a bit of an airhead.
Heâd call you a bimbo, but youâre not really known to sleep around â something about finding the right guy.
You opened the door with a smile, âHi, welcome! Come in~â and pulled him inside by his arm. âI just got out of the shower, so I haven't really gotten dressed â hope you donât mind!â
Youâre in pink from head to toe â a bit excessively, like youâd gone shopping in the little girlâs section, onlyâŠÂ you donât have a little girlâs body⊠and that top and those shorts are a little too tight on your curves.
âDoesnât really matter what you wear as long as you got your books.â He answers nonchalantly â as though he isnât trying hard not to make out the outline of your cunt where itâs cupped so tight in unfairly thin cotton.
âOkay then~â 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 â 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.
âMy parents are out of town, but they left money for pizza â or whatever else you might want~â
You were all alone?
He doesn't know if he likes that or not. Blind trust. Donât you realize how much bigger he is than you? Doesnât it cross your mind at all how youâd have to call the police if he decided he didnât want to leave at the end of the night?
âPizzaâs good.â
You smile, plopping down on your bed. âOkay then, mister Tutor~â Everything in your room is pink as well. âWhat do you have in store for me?â
You shouldnât say stuff like that. Gives the wrong impression. Youâre lucky he isnât a bad guy.
âWhereâs your books?â
You look a little puzzled for a moment â as though it was an unprompted question. âRight! UhmâŠâ
You kneel down in front of your bed and drag a dusty stack of textbooks from underneath.
âHere.â
He raises a brow at you.
âHave you ever even opened them?â
You giggle again. âIâve written my name on the inside like a good girl~â
He struggles hard not to swallow the tightness in his throat â feeling a twitch in his pants at the sight of you sitting on the floor like that.
âWell, itâs a pretty name.â
You look a little disappointed â or maybe itâs just in his head.
In any case, you rise from the floor and sit down in one of the chairs by the desk, which heâd guess had never held any book other than a magazine.
He picks up the textbooks and sits down in the other chair. And itâs odd, staring at himself in the mirror in front of you â but he has to, to see if he looks suspicious â if heâs showing any tells of how badly he wants to touch you.
He opens up the book on the top of the stack, hopes he doesnât smell like sweat â and you put your hand on the tent in his pants.
The book flaps close, and he jumps out of his chair â and you innocently peer up at him with your long lashes.
Then you say, âWhat?â as though his reaction surprised you.Â
He stays silent â blinking once, then twice â mouth dry and out of words.
You slant your head to the side. âDonât tell me you had your heart set on teaching me math.â
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 â still stunned and stupid, looking at you with wide eyes as you mount him â rubbing that cute tightly-hugged mound upon his bulging crotch â making him groan with cinched brows, watching your pretty manicured fingers as they fiddle with his belt buckle.
âYou really want this?â He asks breathlessly, and you stop to eye him â 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 â running your hands up his chest until you reached his throat. âI wouldnât exactly invite a big boy like you over, much less into my bedroom, if I didnât want it.â
⥠BNHA â Bakugou, Shigaraki, Shinso ⥠JJK â Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Megumi, Yuuta, Choso ⥠HQ â Tsukishima, Kuro ⥠CSM â Aki ⥠DS â Tanjiro, Zenitsu ⥠HxH â Feitan, Leorio
⥠FEM x M INSERT masterlist ⥠GN x M INSERT masterlist
Full fic with smut available here:
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jjk smut#bnha smut#yandere bnha#mha smut#my hero smut#yandere csm#yandere aot
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fourth july â 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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My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3
summary: Joel and reader's vacation continues and lines start to blur. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)
note: happy new year to all of you, and sorry for the long wait! I was completely flashed by the love you showed for part 1 (THANK YOU!!!), and wanted to live up to your expectations. Iâll try to write part 3 as quickly as possible! Sorry if there's any typos, I edited this while severely hungover
The afternoon at the beach was relaxing and lighthearted after you agreed with Joel and stopped studying so much, and you find that apart from having a body that makes you clench your thighs together, heâs interesting to talk to. He doesnât give you the same bullshit about university and acting responsibly, but rather accepts that there are things you dislike about your degree. He doesnât offer advice on how to learn to enjoy those things, he just nods when you tell him youâve learnt to deal with them. He treats you like an adult, someone who makes their own informed choices â something your life has been sorely lacking.
You head back to the rooms in comfortable silence, and you enjoy the way Joelâs arm almost grazes yours. When you think about the flutter in your stomach for too long itâs ridiculous, but itâs so easy to leave behind the morals and expectations of home when all youâre facing right now is an all-inclusive dinner and as many cocktails as you want. You arenât planning on getting drunk if Joel isnât, but you want to have fun tonight. You havenât been on a real vacation in ages.
 You take another shower once youâre in your room, wash away the sunscreen and sea salt, until your hair is all soft again and you smell like shampoo. The hotel restaurant isnât super fancy, but you feel like putting in a little effort, so you pick out a black dress you like, and wear your sandals again. You wonder if youâll get cold â the days are burning hot, but at night thereâs a cool breeze that might make you regret your choice of clothes. Fuck it, you think, you havenât had an occasion to dress up in ages, and getting Joel all flustered again sure seems like reason enough. You grab your purse, phone and keycard, and head to the door.
Joel opens his door at the same time you do, and you swallow when you see heâs changed outfits, too. His hair is slightly damp and all curly, heâs wearing black jeans and a simple black t-shirt with an unbuttoned, flowy linen shirt over it. The sleeves are rolled up to reveal his forearms. Itâs stylish. You didnât expect Joel Miller to look stylish.
"Wow," you say with a smile. "You clean up nice."
Joel just huffs, but his eyes ghost over your dress for a second too long. He doesnât answer.
When you get to the restaurant, Joel pulls out your chair for you, which earns him a blinding smile. Stylish and a gentleman, who would have thought? Back home he always seemed like a grumpy lumberjack to you, and although you do find him excruciatingly attractive in his flannels, youâre intrigued to find out what else you didnât know about him.
"Is it really all-inclusive?", you ask, gazing at the menu and not quite believing you can order anything youâd like and not pay for it.Â
"Sure. You want a cocktail?"
"If youâll have one with me?"
Joel holds your gaze, but shakes his head.
"I think I prefer whiskey over that sweet stuff," he says, and you make a face.
"Fine, whiskey it is, then," you say, and Joel frowns.
"You donât have to drink what Iâm drinkinâ. Have a cocktail."
This time youâre the one to shake your head.
"Itâs no fun, having cocktails on your own. But I havenât had whiskey in ages, maybe I like it better now."
The corner of Joelâs mouth twitches.
"Ages, huh? How long have you been allowed to drink again?"
You smile, but donât dignify his question with an answer, and after a moment Joel chuckles and looks back at the menu.
"Fine, Iâll have a Gin Fizz," he says, looking up again. "You?"
He wants to order a cocktail, just so that you can enjoy having one, too. Your stomach flutters.
"Joel, you donât have t-"
"I know I donât. Iâm having a Gin Fizz."
Thereâs a finality to his tone, but his voice is friendly. You give him a reluctant smile, one that isnât ironic or half-joking. He smiles back, and leans back in his chair, eyes still on yours. You study the menu again, this time having a closer look at the cocktails.
"Sex on the beach," you say seriously, and Joel snorts.
"Clever."
***
You do end up drinking a sex on the beach, and Joel actually enjoys his gin fizz. The food is delicious, Joel lets you try a piece of his steak and you offer him a bite of your fish, but he declines with a disgusted look on his face that makes you grin. No seafood for Joel Miller, then.
Joel orders you another cocktail when the waiter clears your plates, and you smile to yourself. Heâs being courteous.
"Are you trying to get me drunk, Miller?", you ask, the corner of your mouth twitching. Joel raises an eyebrow.
"I think youâre managinâ that without my help."
Heâs right, of course â your long day of traveling makes the buzz in your head more prominent, and although youâre nowhere near drunk, your tongue is a little looser than usually, and you find it much easier to hold Joelâs eye-contact.
"Iâm glad I came here," you say all of a sudden, the thought fleeting, but true. "I needed a break."
Joelâs smile is honest, when he answers.
"Iâm glad you came, too. Itâd be boring, beinâ here on my own."
"Right," you say, "who would get you to drink cocktails? Youâd be stuck drinking disgusting whiskey and wallowing in your loneliness."
Joel smiles, shaking his head slightly, and takes a sip of his Gin.
"You wanna head down to the beach?", you ask when your glasses are empty and you feel a little woozy from the second cocktail. Joel looks surprised.
"I love the sea at night," you say a little dreamily, voice trailing off.
"Sure. Letâs go," Joel just answers.
The air outside is cool, just like you anticipated, and you shiver slightly, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep the goosebumps at bay. Joel notices, and immediately shrugs out of his linen shirt, handing it to you. You stare at him.
"Take it," he insists, and you do, the fabric soft in your hands. You slip it on, the sleeves coming down to your fingertips, the collar smelling of Joelâs cologne. You wonder why it took you two cocktails to notice how good he smells. When youâre done rolling up the sleeves, you look up and find Joel watching you quietly. Your eyes meet â he looks away, and starts walking again.
Youâre pleasantly tipsy, walking to the beach at night, wearing Joel Millerâs clothes and brushing his arm with yours every once in a while. It feels a little surreal.
"Arenât you cold now?", you ask after a couple of minutes of quiet.
"No," Joel answers, his voice a little rougher than before, "âsides, you wear it better anyway."
You flush, and when you donât answer, he looks at you.
"Jesus, sorry," he mumbles. "I didnâtâŠit slipped out. Just meant you look pretty, is all."
Your stomach swirls pleasantly, and you want Joel to put his arm around your shoulder, or kiss you, or take that shirt off again. You clear your throat.
"Thanks," you answer quietly, toying with the hem of the shirt. "I think you wore it well, too, though. Suits you."
Joel doesnât answer, but when you glance at him, you notice the ghost of a smile on his face, half-hidden by his patchy beard.
You walk the rest of the way in contemplative silence, each of you lost in your thoughts. Youâre always amazed to see the sea at night. The darkness somehow elevates its vastness, water and sky bleeding into each other at the near invisible horizon. Itâs easy to forget about your exams here, with the whole expanse of the planet spread out before you, the relentlessly calm sound of the waves, and Joelâs scent in your nose. You sit down on an abandoned deck chair and watch Joel walk up to the water, pick up a seashell, and drop it into the water again. He seems content to be here, you think. Relaxed. You donât know him well, but his body language seems more at ease than it did back home. Perhaps youâre not the only one who needed a break.
You get up again, and walk over to Joel, who smiles when he sees you coming.
"You were right," he says, "itâs different in the dark."
You know he means the sea, the beach, the lack of people around, the sand that burned your feet only hours ago now having a cooling effect. Still, his words leave room for interpretation and you donât miss the way his gaze moves over your form in his shirt.
"Thanks for the cocktails," you say quietly, "and the shirt."
Joel looks over at you, but you donât have the guts to look at him. You canât quite be sure what the moonlight and scenery will make you do, not when heâs never looked more handsome, and youâre more than tipsy.
"Youâre welcome," he says honestly. "I know youâre doinâ this for your Dad more than anything, but I hope youâre still havinâ fun."
Heâs self-conscious, or something close to it, wondering how he could make this trip more enjoyable for you â so he orders cocktails he doesnât like and lets you wear his clothes.
"I am having fun," you reassure him. "Iâm at the beach at night wearing a guyâs shirt who got me all the cocktails I wanted, instead of studying at my desk for the millionth night in a row."
Joel chuckles.
"My Dad should break his leg more often," you sigh, digging the heel of your foot into the sand. Joel doesnât answer.
When you walk back to the hotel, you feel the ghost of his hand on your lower back, not touching, but lingering, as if he instinctively wants to stir you in the right direction, or keep you from stumbling. It makes that flutter in your stomach reappear.
You pass reception to get to the elevators, and the same woman is still there, smiling when he recognizes you.
"You two enjoying the sea?", she asks.
"Very much, thank you," you answer, "we had cocktails and walked to the beach."
The lady looks pleased at how happy you seem and smiles at Joel.
"Iâm glad to hear it! Well, you two enjoy your Daddy-daughter trip," she says, before answering the telephone that starts ringing just as youâre about to say good-night.
Joelâs brows are furrowed when you look at him, which makes you suppress a grin. The lady assuming heâs your father is clearly bothering him, and you get the feeling it might not entirely be about his age.
When youâve made it up to your rooms, you turn to Joel to find him already watching you. He looks different here, in the harsh light of the corridor, dark shadows falling over his features, his form somehow looking broader.
"Breakfast at nine?", he asks you, voice quiet so as not to disturb any other guests in their rooms.
"Yeah," you say, and before you can change your mind, you kiss his cheek. His expression is unreadable, when you pull away.
"Goodnight," you say with a tired smile, before teasingly adding "Daddy."
Joel holds your eye contact, and doesnât flush this time.
"Careful," he says gently, voice low and dark. You swallow.
Before you can forget, you shrug off his shirt, but Joel doesnât move to take it from your outstretched hand. After a beat, his eyes flicker over your face.
"Keep it," he says curtly, "I like it on ya."
And then heâs gone, the door to his room shutting with a soft thud. You shake your head slightly, and press the soft linen fabric against your nose, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat. You ache just at the thought of it having touched his skin, and him now wanting to see you in it, but it would feel like a violation if you relieved that ache now, even if Joel wasnât there, so you ignore the dull throbbing between your legs best as you can and go to bed with Joelâs shirt right next to your bed.
***
The next morning you feel a little nervous about breakfast â something shifted between you and Joel after your good-bye in the hallway. He seemed so sure of himself when he told you he liked you in his shirt, so unwavering, and youâre a nervous wreck just thinking about saying good morning to him.
Instead of putting on the white sundress you wore yesterday, you slip into a bikini, a pair of comfortable shorts, and Joelâs linen shirt, half unbuttoned so that your necklace peeks out. This time you leave the sleeves un-rolled, liking how big it feels on you, a constant reminder of Joelâs size.
You wash your face and brush your teeth, but donât shower since youâre going to have to do that in the evening anyway. Although youâre mostly excited to see Joel again, you also canât wait to have your morning coffee and something to eat â you hope the breakfast buffet will be as good as dinner was.
You wait for Joel in the hallway, but when he doesnât come out of his room, you knock on his door.
"One second," his voice comes from inside, and you wait leaning against the wall just like he did the day before. When he opens the door, you canât suppress a smile â his hair is charmingly tousled from his sleep, he clearly didnât know what to do with it without taking a shower first.
"Nice hair," you say, the corner of your mouth twitching. Joel doesnât answer, with his brows slightly furrowed he keeps staring at you. Anxiety floods your veins, and you wonder if it was the best idea to dress the way you did, if Joel might think of it as strange or creepy or pathetic.
"Youâre wearing my shirt," he says, voice quiet and still rough from sleep. Itâs not a question, just a statement, no judgement behind it. You swallow, watching his brown eyes trail over your arms, torso, your shorts.
"Yeah," you answer timidly, fighting the urge to cross your arms. "You said you liked it on me."
Joelâs eyes snap up to yours, and with all the courage you can muster up, you hold his gaze for several long seconds.
"I did."
Again, just a statement. One that doesnât require an answer, but you feel like shrinking under Joelâs gaze, so you offer him an out out of the situation.
"Iâll take it off, if you want me to," you mutter, and quickly add "Iâll put on something else."
Joel watches you quietly, and finally runs a hand through his messy hair.
"No need, kid," he says with a defeated sounding exhale. "âM glad ya like it."
***
Breakfast is a welcome distraction from whatever happened in the hallway â you drink too much coffee, and try all of the delicious food offered: bacon and eggs, colorful fruit you have never seen before, yoghurt and pancakes. Joel sticks to coffee and toast, though he does steal one of the peaces of fruit from your plate.
"Iâll get one more cup," you say when you have drained the last of your coffee, and Joel chuckles.
"Might as well do a line," he says and you snort, but stay seated â heâs right, you should watch your caffeine intake. He watches you, and after a second raises an eyebrow.
"I didnât mean anything by it. You drink as much coffee as you want."
His voice is apologetic and soft.
"No, Iâll do as you say," you answer, "or Iâll die of heart failure."
Something flashes over his face at those words, but you canât pinpoint it. Still, your stomach flutters, when Joel doesnât break the eye-contact.
After breakfast the two of you get your towels and the rest of your beach-belongings from your rooms, and Joel changes into his trunks again. You walk past reception quietly, the lady from the day before isnât there, and Joelâs arm brushes against yours casually. Suddenly you wish you werenât wearing his shirt, just to feel his skin against yours. Itâs a little pathetic.
Joel gets you two deckchairs â the beach is still relatively empty â and you put on sunscreen. When youâre done with your limbs and stomach, you offer Joel the bottle.
"Do my back, please?"
"Sure," he mutters, taking the bottle from you, and gently stroking your hair out of the way. Heâs quiet, holding you steady by the shoulder when you instinctively squirm away from the initial cold of the liquid on your skin, his hands calloused but gentle. From time to time, his fingers slip under the shoulder straps of your bikini, and you feel heat pool between your legs when he starts covering your lower back in sunscreen. His hand is dangerously close to the waistband of your swimsuit.
"All done," he says, closing the bottle. You raise an eyebrow.
"Donât need sunscreen," he explains, "I donât burn easy."
"Youâll get skin cancer," you argue. "Everybody needs sunscreen."
He huffs, but hands you the bottle and turns around to sit down on the deckchair. You watch his beautiful back, the way the skin ripples over his muscles, how broad and solid it seems. You squirt some of the sunscreen onto your hand and apply it to Joelâs shoulders, rubbing gently. He relaxes under your touch, the tension leaving his muscles, and you move your hands more deliberately, focusing on his shoulders, until Joelâs head falls forward slightly, giving into the sensation.
"Good?", you ask, a little shy.
Joel hums, and you wonder if his eyes are closed, if heâs enjoying your touch so much he canât form a full sentence. You dig the heels of your palms into his muscles, the sunscreen making the slide easy. His skin his littered in freckles and birthmarks, marked by years of working under the sun.
"You always apply sunscreen like that?", Joel asks suddenly, and you flush.
"Most people arenât this tense," you quip back, fingers gliding over Joelâs neck. "Actually, nobodyâs ever been this tense, I think."
He shakes his head slightly, but lets you carry on, working your way down his back, the tan line of his trunks visible and oh so tempting. You imagine pulling them down and try to refrain from clenching your thighs together.
When youâre done, Joelâs muscles feel a little looser, more relaxed, and he turns around to look at you.
"Thanks," he says quietly, and you nod. Now that he can see you, look you directly in the eye, it feels almost absurdly bold to have touched him like that. Still, things have started to unravel a little. Lines have blurred.
Although you donât know where you get the courage from, you hold his gaze, put one hand on his shoulder, and squeeze.
"Any time, Joel," you answer, and watch him swallow. Then, his own hand comes up to yours, and you half think heâs going to remove yours, but he just loosely wraps his fingers around your wrist, eyes not leaving yours.
"Thatâs a dangerous game youâre playinâ, kid," he says quietly, but doesnât let go of you. You hope he never does.
"Do youâŠwant me to stop?", you ask him, because you will if this is making him uncomfortable, if you read him wrong. Heâs silent for a second.
"No," he says so quietly itâs almost inaudible. His thumb starts moving over your wrist, right over the pulse point, and it makes you weak in the knees. You didnât know a touch as small as that one could be so erotic, but with Joel it seems, everything is. You fight to not let a whimper escape your mouth, and close your eyes for just a second.
"God," Joel mutters, more to himself than to you, "look at you."
Your eyes snap open when you feel him move, hand still locked around your wrist securely, and suddenly heâs towering over you. You gaze up at him, his eyes bright under the blazing sun, his hair still tousled, his beard patchy and flecked with grey. Heâs all man, in a way you didnât know you found desirable before him, but there is undeniable proof of your want leaking into your swimsuit, sticky and hot between your thighs.
He watches you, intense eyes moving over your face, your eyes, your mouth, your hands, your body in your nicest swimsuit, your throat as you swallow. His other hand comes up to stroke the hair away from your neck, and goosebumps erupt on your skin. Joel almost chuckles, but itâs more the ghost of a breath. You flush.
"Itâs fucking stupid to go through with this," Joel says seriously, like he wants to inform you of it â as if you donât know.
"Yes," you breathe, because heâs completely right.
"Your Dad would kill me, and rightly so," he adds.
"Oh, fuck my Dad," you answer, trying to reach out to touch Joel, but your wrist is still tightly locked in his grasp. You tug a little, but he doesnât budge.
"You doinâ this to get back at him?"
You detect something in his voice you donât like â uncertainty.
"No, Joel," you breathe, "God, no. Have you looked into a mirror recently?"
That makes him smile, and you wonder if he gets compliments a lot, but by the way his cheeks gain color, you donât think he does. Stupid, stupid world, stupid people who came before you. He should be told every second of the day.
"Itâs still stupid,â he says, but his eyes are more intense than before now. Youâre on holiday, away from all judgement. You can do whatever you want to do to each other.
"Thought I was the smart one in my family," you tease, reminding him of his words on the plane. You want him to lean down and finally kiss you, or throw you down on the deckchair and fuck you right there, your face pressed into his linen shirt. His thumb keeps moving over your wrist, relentlessly building tension.
"Take me to your room," you whisper, eyes wide, and anticipation pooling deep in your belly. Joel curses.
"You have any idea of the things I wanna do to you?"
His voice is low, dangerous, and youâd be at least a little afraid if this one anyone else. But itâs Joel, who lets you hate your degree without judgement, drinks cocktails he doesnât like just so you can enjoy yourself, and through his permission allows you to stop studying, lets you enjoy this trip.
"Do them," you breathe, "Iâll let you do anything."
"Jesus fucking Christ, kid," he answers, and finally lets go of your wrist, one hand coming to rest on your waist, tugging you towards him, the other gently cradling your face. His breath ghosts over your mouth, and then he brushes your lips with his in a needy, slow kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth and you open up for him willingly. He tugs your hips against him, making you whimper and feel his bulge dig into your stomach.
The only thing keeping you from pulling him out of his swimming trunks right then is the fact that there are people around, and youâre pushing it already with the way his hands grasp at your skin and his tongue licks in your mouth. Any further and you could be arrested for public indecency.
"Please," you ask him between kisses, "Please, Joel, just take me to your room."
His teeth dig into your lower lip, and you fight a moan.
"Ask me again," he says, voice a little wrecked, and the need you feel for him deep in your stomach burns white hot. He wants you to beg.
"Please," you say, like he isnât stripping you of your dignity instead of your clothes, but you canât bring yourself to feel embarrassed, not when Joel groans at the sound.
"Alright, kid. Iâve got you.â
#my burning sun will someday rise#mine#my writing#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us part 1#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro hub#pedro pascal characters#game joel miller#hbo joel#hbo tlou
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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 matesâ 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 đđ, double penetr, lots of come. Donât like, donât 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.
âWhatâs wrong, little one?â 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.
âContractions,â 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 didnât have sudden contractions. It was completely different to a human pregnancy. The birth, too. It was the reason youâd arranged everything with the doctor and planned an induction of labor a week from now. But clearly, that plan would change.
âI can feel the eggs moving,â you muttered. âItâs starting to hurt.â
Thatâs 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.
âGood, very good,â the doctor said once you had calmed down a little. âLetâs take a look at you and the eggs. â
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. âEverything appears perfect apart from the contractions. Naga pregnancies donât 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.â
âAre my babies okay?â you asked her, tears pricking at your eyes.
Thorne kissed your sweaty forehead while Ragnor your lips. âWeâre right here, love,â each of them murmured to you. âWe wonât leave your side, relax for us.â
The doctor placed a strange cylindrical LED device over your vagina and ass, âI see that youâre not filled enough with your matesâ seed. Itâs why youâre experiencing contractions and pain. We need to make sure youâre completely suffused in seed, and after that, itâs imminent that they be delivered. When was the last time youâve had intimate relations with your mates?â The doctor asked you.
âLast night,â you answered in one breath.
âWe fucked only once because she was sleepy,â Ragnor said, brows furrowing. âWasnât that enough?â
Dr. Elise shook her head. âNot in the least. The eggs consume the seed incredibly fast, especially at their current growth,â she explained. âYouâll need to fill your mate again, thoroughly and immediately.â
âRight now?â You asked, your voice pitching without meaning to.
âYes,â Dr. Elise said. âI want you to be suffused with seed and after that Iâll induce the birth. We canât risk waiting and risking both your health.â
âWeâll fill her. In both holes, just to be sure,â Ragnor said, his face completely serious.
Dr. Elise nodded. âYes, and if you can give her seed through the mouth as well, that would be ideal.â
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. âI 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 youâre human.â
âWill it hurt as much as a human birth?â you asked, heart palpitating.
The doctor smiled. âNo, it will be pleasurable and just mildly uncomfortable.â
You flushed at the word âpleasurableâ. Youâd 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.
âLet me remind you how this will go,â Dr. Elise began, her voice calm. âOnce youâre 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 youâve been suffused with enough seed.â
âThank you, doctor,â you said, your cheeks blushing a little.
âItâs 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.â
âI understand,â you said. You trusted Dr. Elise and knew she was right. âWhere can I and my mates⊠uhmm⊠do what we need to do?â
Dr. Elise stood up. âThis room is reserved for your birth so you can stay here. Iâll step out to give you privacy and return roughly in two hours. Call me for whatever you need; I will be on standby.â The doctor headed to the door and glanced at your mates, âRemember, you need to fill her completely otherwise her health and the eggs will be at risk. Iâll come back to check, and if itâs not enough, youâll have to keep going until the eggs have consumed enough seed.â
Once the doctor was out, you slumped back in the chair. âI canât believe this. My health is dependent on your seed.â
âLots of itâ, Thorne added, looking smug.
âIâm going to be super cocky about that in the future,â 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.
âWill you trust us to fill your pretty little holes, little mate?â Thorne asked, his voice a whisper as he claimed your lips.
âHnnn⊠fuck, yes,â you said, arching your back, offering yourself to them. The more they touched you, the more the contractions eased, pleasure taking over.
âDamn, what a pretty sight our mate is.âRagnor lowered his head to your stomach, rubbed the swell, and spoke, "Weâll meet you soon, little ones. Stay safe and warm in there."
âDaddies will take care of mommy,â 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.
"Ahhâ hnng... need your seed," you rasped, carding your fingers through their silky long hair.
"We need to prepare you mate,â Thorne said while kissing one lush rosy nipple and wetting the other with his tongue.
"Iâm ready... ahh... I need your load."
Ragnor hummed. âOur mate is right. We need to fill her tight little holes. Hm?â
Thorne agreed, a smug grin playing on the lips.
Gently, you were lifted and placed onto Ragnorâs 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. Ragnorâs double cocks parted the folds of your pussy, his massive veined dicks thrusting upwards. Thornâs 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.
âThatâs it, such a good mate for us,â Ragnor murmured, kissing you softly. âHow are you feeling, mama?â
âBetter. Much better,â you said, your eyes and voice pleasure-hazed.
âIt'll be okay," Thorne whispered into your ear. "Now weâre going to change positions and fill you up again, alright, love?â
You nodded, whining. Youâd do anything to keep your eggs safe and you loved and needed your mates just as much.
âLet us take care of everything, love,â 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.
âHaah, yessss, ahnnn, feels so good,â you moaned as you were worshiped and claimed in every way possible. âHng-goâŠgoâŠnnaââ
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.
âI say we fill her pretty mouth, too,â Thorne said, his voice thick with arousal. âI want to see her swallow your seed Ragnor, let it fill her stomach.â
Ragnor groaned and kneeled at your face, his cocks jutting proudly up to his bellybutton. âOpen up, love,â he cooed. âWe need to make sure youâre 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.
âFuck, you have no idea how beautiful you look, mate,â Ragnor muttered, watching your mouth, now filled with both his cocks, while Thorneâs dicks pistoned inside you.
âMffghâ loveâhffuh you,â you gurgled around the shafts in your mouth, wet slurping sounds filling the room.
âWe love you, too, precious mate,â Throne said, hips snapping repeatedly, driving his shafts deep in your depths. âYouâre doing great. Weâre almost there. Just a little more, love.â
They settled into a sensual rhythm, Ragnorâs 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: âyouâre doing so wellâ, âour brave, beautiful mateâ. 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. Thorneâs 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.
âDamn, mate, you took all we had to give,â Thorne said affectionately, his cocks still nestled within you, plugging up the seed.
âOur mate is the strongest,â Ragnor said, kissing you passionately, his tongue tasting his seed in your mouth. âHow are you feeling? The eggs?â
âIâm feeling⊠perfect,â you said with a soft smile. âThe contractions are almost gone. When will the eggs come?â
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.
#naga x you#nagas x reader#nagas x you#naga x reader#naga x human#naga smut#monster x reader#monster x you#monster fucker#monster lover#monster x human#monster smut#monster x female#monster x female reader#monster boyfriend#monster fudger#monster romance#teratophillia#terat0philliac
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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.Â
Insinuating conversations of the carnal sins you would confess toâbarely even sinsâ just thoughts that plagued your mind unwillingly.Â
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.Â
âCold showers arenât working anymore, Father. I had to. I had to rid myself of the hellfire that burned in me.â Your lips bordered on smiling as you watched the Father lower his gaze.Â
He didnât know when, but his index and thumb had started toying with the little fly of his zipper, flipping it up and downâsomething to keep his hands busy as you spoke.Â
âI know that must be a sin, isnt it father?â 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.Â
Little wired glasses on the bridge of Nanamiâs nose as his eyes betrayed him- Unwillingly, they flashed down to your breasts, catching himself and looking back up to your face.Â
You raised your eyebrows in the slightest, as though you had caught on to his urge to look.Â
Nanami cleared his throat, pulling off the little glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. âThe Bible- says it is, yes. Against the sixth commandment-â Looking back to your expression that seemed even more unbothered than before.Â
âIf it is a sin,â you whispered, pinching your eyebrows in question of the Fatherâs faith. âThen why does it help?âÂ
Nanami cleared his throat for what seemed like the hundredth time in those 30 minutes. âGod made us sexual creatures,â he mumbled, trying to make it sound as business-like as he could.Â
You let out a little giggle- something that sounded like a siren trying to lure him into a trap. âThen god made me too sexual.â
Nanami inhaled- taking a little swipe at his lip with the tip of his dry tongue, parting his lips and averting his gaze. âHowâŠâ he inhaled sharply, âHow did it feel?â barely legible, but the words deepened your smirk into something crueler.
A sigh of contentment left your lips, âAs though I had chipped away at the temptation in the slightest.â you took a deep inhale- the skin of your chest pressing against the edge of your low cut top and daring to spill.Â
âIt felt so good, Father. Freeing almost.â You continued, seeing Nanamiâs blush spread through his cheeks down his neck in the slightest.Â
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 couldnât give in as quickly as you did.Â
His hand halted the little flipping movement on his zipper. Gulping in the slightest and leaning back into his chair- âAnd your prayers⊠didnât help?â trying to change the daring topic he had brought on.Â
âIf I could be honest, father?â 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.Â
âPlease, be honest.âÂ
âI think my prayers have caused the opposite effect.âÂ
Nanami nodded softly, thinking up something else to offer you besides the strained words he practically forced himself to say.Â
âMaybe a place in the community?â he asks, thinking that if you and he try to debrief these issues, youâll get nowhere but a very frustrated priest who just wants to âhelpâ.Â
He inhaled sharply, opening a little drawer in his desk and reaching for a flier, âNext Sunday, weâre having an Easter event for the children- you could find your place in our community.âÂ
Placing the little flier onto the wood in front of you, your eyes scanning the colorful sheet with a half cocked smile. âHelp serve the food, or just stay for a while. Youâre welcome to it.âÂ
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.Â
He excused it because he knew it would be hot that day and was getting ahead of an issue before it arose.Â
âExcuse me for being so indecent today,â he joked in front of the congregation before continuing his sermon.Â
But the little flexes of Nanamiâs 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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 didnât 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 youâve made in his office.Â
But you- now standing on one end of the grass patch, derived from any sort of community the Father thought you were participating in.Â
Though it didnât bother you, making friends with bitter church women was neither your task nor the conquest you sought.Â
But when your eyes caught the Father excusing himself from a few people of his parish- dashing into the churchâs back entrance- you chose to follow.Â
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.Â
You knocked twice- pushing the door open to see the Father jump at the sudden noise and the sight of you at his doorstep.Â
âYou havenât said a word to me, Father.â 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.Â
He let out a little sigh with a smile, âYouâll have to excuse me- today has been very laboring.â his brows furrowed with stern eyes looking for the pages he swore he left at the very top of a stack of paper.Â
âAnything I could do to help?â taking on a sweet tone as you stepped closer to him.Â
Nanami let out a little laugh, almost in disbelief. âYouâve done more than enough to help today,â he said, his shoulders stiff from your presence standing at his side.Â
âI couldnât ask for more,â 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.Â
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.Â
âI want to help, Father. Tell me how I can assist you.â 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.Â
Nanami parted his lips- derailing his train of thought entirely from the seemingly innocent touch. âWhat are you looking for?â you murmured, lightly caressing your thumb against his skin.Â
The first thing that popped into his mind was nowhere near priestly or godly. But he gathered his thoughts and mustered the words.Â
âThe choir-â he inhaled a choked breath, âThey need the lyrics for the service on Wednesday,â he whispered, looking at your low eyes with your hand still atop his.Â
âYour parish made you leave an event to look for song lyrics?â you teased- as though that was some lame excuse he made up on the spot.Â
Nanami let out a little laugh, pulling his hand from beneath yours and going back to looking for the pages again. âI know,â he mumbled, but you werenât quite done urging you to be there to help.Â
You placed your hand over his again, looking at him with all the earnesty you could muster. âYou are such a good priest, father.â picking up his hand from the desk and holding it in both of yours. âIf you need help-â and there went the corner of your lip curling with sadistic intent.Â
âYou can ask for it.â you assured, caressing his hand lightly as his lips parted with an inhale, âYou can ask me for it.â
His heart was pounding in his chestâthe words themselves werenât filthy. Were they spoken by anyone else, it wouldâve 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.Â
Nanami felt it in his gut. It made his mind fuzzy- made him unable to think coherently.Â
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 vowsâand for the first time in a very long time, his mind wasnât judging the thoughts that raced inside of it.Â
You took a step closer to himâjust 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.
âI-â he started with an exhale, being able to breathe in the sickeningly sweet aroma of your skin. How it whirred in his mind shouldâve been a sin in itself.Â
You tightened your grip on his hand, whispering a sweet, âDo you need help, Father?â watching his adamâs apple bob past the white collar around his neck and blinks become hazy.Â
The hand atop trailed up his forearm with a ghostly touch, feeling the light goosebumps rise beneath your fingertips.Â
It wasnât till he saw your gaze turn dark- thatâs when it clicked in the Fatherâs mind. Thatâs when the pieces came together.Â
You werenât some lamb in desperate need of guidance; you werenât innocent of the invading thoughts that the devil tried to tempt you with.Â
âYou were put before me as a test.â was the one clear thought that broke through the mist in his mind as he looked at you.Â
And what he feared mostâNanami 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 roomâor what you would have done to him had nobody interrupted.Â
A parish member cracked the door open- âFather, have you found the-â 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.Â
âIâm afraid Iâve lost them entirely- Iâll reprint them tomorrow morning.â his tone stern and clear as the parish member nodded- unsure of Nanamiâs words as you stood there.Â
You flashed a small smile at the parish member- âFather, the deaconess is looking for you.â they continued.Â
Only you crossed your arms beneath your breasts and rested back onto the edge of the Fatherâs desk- too smug for what they had just witnessed.Â
âThank you, Iâll be out in a minute.âÂ
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.Â
âIâm available anytime you need me, Father,â 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.Â
The very same desk he was picturing you bent over in his mind a mere few seconds ago. Â
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.Â
Or how tight the fabric looked pressed against your hips when you walked away from him.Â
In the end Nanami was still a man with eyes- not even a priest could control their wandering gaze.Â
He wanted to tell you- he needed to say to you that he couldnât 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, couldnât happen anymore.Â
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.Â
Yet he sat there again, twiddling his thumbs to avoid the urge to reach for his zipper.Â
A week of cold showers were, as you said- they didnât 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.Â
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.Â
And sitting in that chair, hearing you speak of the filth that raged in your mind without shame.Â
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 wasnât a defense mechanism; you found humor in the trouble inflicted on him.Â
As though you could smell the fear in his very soul from the chance of succeeding in enticing him.Â
And yet, Nanami still sat there listening. A masochistic churn in his brain had him listen to every temptation.Â
âYouâve never felt this way, Father?â you whirred, the amused look in your eyes masked by the fanning of your lashes. âAs though you started something you couldnât stop doing?â
Yes, he did know the feeling. He knew once he met you he wouldnât have been able to stop seeing you- speaking to you. Even if you were trying to bewitch him, he knew in his mind he wouldnât be able to stop saying yes to your requests for these sessions.Â
âHas it helped?â He murmured, straightening his back and interlocking his hands.Â
You let out a little giggle, âIf anything- it hasnât. But I can't stop.â taking a little nibble at your bottom lip, âIt makes me crave more.â That was the sentence that made Nanami look at you more dangerously than before-Â
Now, Nanami knew you needed more, and you didnât care to stop the urges.Â
Keeping a low tone, âI yearn for more.â you spoke- clearly so he could hear. Nanami gulped, tingles rushing into his cheeks making his brain nervous. âFor the warmth of another person.âÂ
Nanami had to bite his tongue- pretend he heard your thoughts as a church priest and not as a man.Â
âIâm sure youâve never felt this way Father. Youâre an extraordinary priest- It must be jarring to hear my inner monologue.â You spoke softly, so sure he would agree.
Nanami inhaled, âNot at all. Life as a priest is very lonely.â he smiled, his mouth dry at the words that dared rumble in his mind. âIâve found myself craving the warmth of another person before. Itâs normal.âÂ
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.Â
And when the time came to walk you out of his office, you stood at his desk.Â
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.Â
Only this time- there was no chatter outside his window from the event. In that church it was only you and him.Â
And as though you knew, you looked into his eyes, testing the space between you, leaning in mere millimeters at a time.Â
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 Nanamiâs 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.
âCan you help me, Father?â you whispered, raising your hand to his bicep and touching it lightly.Â
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; âHow?âÂ
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. âTouch me.â 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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- âI canât-â he breathed, slowing your moving hands and hearing his plea.Â
âI canât.â 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.Â
âYou are a good priest,â 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.Â
You placed another soft kiss on his warmed ear, âTell me how long itâs been since you rid yourself of the poison, Father.â you whispered, undoing the button of his slacks slowly as his breath grazed against your collarbone.Â
âFar too long.â
You licked your lips at the image of how much seed heâll spurt- undoing his zipper at an agonizing pace, âTell me to stop and I will.â you murmured, your breath tickling his ear as your hand rested on his hip. Waiting for his permission.Â
Nanami swallowed harshly; his hands had a bruising hold on your skin as you offered what he yearned for on a silver platter.Â
âPlease,â he whispered, not knowing what he was pleading for.
A little exhale with a giggle grazed Nanamiâs ear, âI need to hear you say it.â you whispered, the hand on your button roaming down the side of your thigh and grazing the hem of the skirt you wore.Â
âPlease touch me.â 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.Â
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.Â
Taking a light hand as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft- heavy and hot in your palm as he inhaled sharply. âYou are a good man, Father,â you whispered, starting slow strokes at his crying cock.Â
âYou deserve to be helped,âÂ
âTo be touched.â
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.Â
But your hand didnât 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 couldnât focus on anything other than groping at whatever body part he could find.Â
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.Â
Amused at how worked up he was from a few strokes- but your hand isnât 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.Â
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.Â
Nanamiâs 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.Â
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 eyesâdark and full of want, with a goal shimmering in them.Â
Smiling softly, âFather-â 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.Â
Pulling back and looking at you- bare and as he had pictured you.Â
Nanami didnât 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.Â
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.Â
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 isnât working.Â
Nanami didnât pray for the strength to stop- he didnât want to. He started the prayer of forgiveness knowing that he didnât want to stop. Some kind of assurance that the sooner he started begging for forgiveness, he would be pardoned.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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 didnât- âForgive me.â he muttered, placing his fat cock onto your slit. His heavy shaft resting against your clit with a little sigh.Â
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 wasnât 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: âPut it insideâplease, Kento.â The one time you had said his nameâwhat 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.Â
Nanamiâs face was troubled, as though he was still hesitating. âJust the tip,â you whispered, smugly knowing he barely had the resolve to hesitate. He would listen to you.Â
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.Â
Unable to remember when he felt such pleasure that made him want to say thank you.Â
And as though your cunt was trying to suck him in- his hips didnt stop, âIâm sorry.â 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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 wouldnât be.Â
âMove-â 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.Â
Nanami only let out a shaky breath- âI canât,â similar to a little sob but laced with a grunt. Your lips pressed against his temple, brushing them against his ear with a smile.Â
âGive me what I want.â Whispered and invaded his ear as his grip on the desk turning his knuckles white. âI want this Kento-â you whined, trying to convince him to move- to fuck you like you knew he could.Â
âI want you.âÂ
Nanami groaned at the little clench your walls made around him- âI can feel you trembling-â kissing his ear with a little damp spot left in wake. âJust pull out of me- then push back in.â feeling his hips follow your guidance as though you controlled them.
He whimpered in a breath at the sensation, âDoesnât that feel good?â you hummed, digging your fingers into his back in the slightest.Â
And it did- it felt like heaven on earth for Nanami. And as though he couldnât 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.Â
You only whimpered at the slow thrusts- being able to feel the hesitance in the pushes Nanami made.Â
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.Â
Fuck into you as you had been begging him to from the moment you first walked into his church.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âFuck me-â you whimpered, watching the urge to make this about you dissipate behind his eyes.Â
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.Â
Nanami didnât 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- âPlease, please-âÂ
Apologies muttered into your ear for having his way with you, âIâm sorry- mâsorry.â
âI have to- I have to-â 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-Â âMore.â
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.Â
Grunts with one question- âCan I-â barely legible and laced with the sounds of vile squelching coming from where you linked with him. âInside,â huffed in the same breath as a groan.Â
You huffed a happy exhale- glad he wanted to spill himself inside of you.Â
âF-fill m-â 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.Â
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.Â
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 didnât.Â
In the moment of the afterglow bliss, Nanami didnât care what happened after this. He knew in his marrow that this was worth itâyou were worth it.Â
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.Â
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.Â
Thatâs what peace was to Nanami at that moment.Â
-
(a.n) this was very hot to write ^-^
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen nanami#kento nanami#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanamin#nanami x reader#kento x y/n#kento x you#jjk kento#kento smut#jujutsu kento#nanami x chubby reader#jjk#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#kento x reader#nanami kento x reader#kento nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#jjk au#priest!nanami#jujutsu kaisen
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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 youâve had you donât 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 Eddieâs 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 â 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 thatâs why it doesnât 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 wasnât much in it besides beer since Wayne hadnât been around to stock it. Eddie always preferred ordering take out over getting groceries â 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. Itâs not lost on you how similarly youâre 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 toadâs 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 â 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, itâs so blissful that you have to keep yourself from nodding off right there.
You did make use of Eddieâs 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 â youâre shutting down whether you like it or not.
Dropping the damp towel on his bedroom floor, you intended to change, you really did. Youâd even picked out one of Eddieâs 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 thatâs 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 youâre used to sleeping naked in your own bed, much too tired to remember that youâre 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 â 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 heâd 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.
Itâs 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 neighborâs broken screen door gusting open just a few feet away from his bedroom window. Itâs 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 heâs not alone.
Oh...
And then he wishes that he was.
Panic snaps up like a beartrap around Eddie when he realizes he's hard â his thick, throbbing erection pressed right up against your body.
Growing clammy, cold sweat beads on the back of his neck but heâs in luck because you havenât 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.
âOh, morningâ, you greet him through a yawn, pulling an arm out to rub at your eyes, blanket slipping lower but the frantic boy hasnât noticed yet, too busy whipping his pillow out from under him to place over his lap.
âUh-hey. Showerâs free if you wanna go firstâ, 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.
âThanksâ, 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 doesnât know where to look first. His eyes dart everywhere, every bare inch of you on display. So much soft, naked skin itâs 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 heâd 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 thereâs 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?"
âEddieâŠ", 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 theyâd overheard â 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.
âEddie! Keep your voice down!â, 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 oneâs 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 youâre trying to avoid getting recognized by an ex whoâs 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.
âI just mean that it's nothing to be embarrassed by. It could have happened to anyone. Who among us hasnât napped in just their birthday suit before, am I right?â he finishes with a slight wince, knowing none of this is exactly helpful.
And you know heâs 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 â well, you asked and I think it could maybe help? to really get us on even ground?â
The words that come out don't feel like you own â 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?
â...Yeah?â
"You're going to undress me"
---
Part two? who knows. Certainly not I.
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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.
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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."
#he's so simple#its so cute#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty headcanon#simon ghost riley#cod headcanon#simon ghost riley x reader#cod ghost x reader#roommate au
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