#butterfly the adult world

[askthechronoverse]

Just dumping my new tags!

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

[voidedjuice]

had a dream i was in a grimdark magical girl yuri setting, so when i woke up i made it real (and bug themed)

bonus details under the cut:

So basically, a small town was secretly holding onto a box containing an evil god, that the local group of magical girls accidentally stumbled on and opened. The thing inside it wasted no time in starting to destroy the world, and for an unknown reason, one of the magical girls even joined forces with it. The rest of the girls managed to beat them, saving the world, but ended up dying from the curse it left on them soon after.

After dying, butterflies girl looped back in time before the box got opened, and decided to keep the box for herself, to make sure its evil influence (box thing yapping at you to let her out) wouldn't get to her beloved friends. Box thing constantly draws in her allies to the town to break her out & tries to convince butterflies girl to please let her out.

Also here's a really rough relationship chart for your interest:

[lostwrlds]

WITH LOVE, ON YOUR BIRTHDAY ── NAGI .ᐟ

( 📡 ) summary; picking out the perfect gift for seishiro nagi was no easy feat, but after flying a thousand miles to surprise him on his birthday – you discover the only present he really wants is you. 11K

✩ lost notes ! happy birthday to my glorious king seishiro nagi !! my goat fr !! also if ur reading this thank u for supporting the first fic on my blog, i'm excited to share more with u soon !! sorry 4 any typos & enjoy international nagi day mwah ⋆˙⟡♡

✩ warnings ! minors, blank & ageless accounts do not interact. fluff & smut, female reader, pro player nagi, characters are adults. long-distance & newly established relationship, unprotected sex, clothed sex, dry humping, oral fixation, somnophilia, overstim, coercion, breeding, creampie, praise & pillow talk.

── © LOSTWRLDS ╱ 2025.

you would think that seishiro nagi would be any easy person to buy a birthday gift for. 

whilst in your eyes, he’s far from plain and simple, the white-haired striker takes pleasure in the things that come easy. like naps on sunny afternoons and golden rays that filter through half-drawn curtains to kiss at your skin or rainy nights curled up on a cosy couch, blankets pulled over your head as your breathing syncs up. he likes the nothingness of quiet, downtime and alone time away from the hustling bustling world that roars his name whenever he makes a powerful or unpredictable play. 

to you, seishiro nagi is extraordinary — in every possible way. not only is he extremely gifted and a natural at the sport he plays, but he is sincere. when he’s out there, he’s got his heart on his sleeve with the intention of pushing himself beyond his own limits. he takes on the challenge, the adrenaline and the rush not just for himself but for his team. he moves with purpose, revitalised energy like he’s more than just the title bestowed on him. seishiro is not just the lazy genius to you. perhaps you’re a little biased, because you find yourself lucky enough to be his girlfriend. to be the one thing that motivates nagi aside from the tase of a freshly formulated goal. 

but he truly is beauty personified to you. not just fresh snow white hair, calming pools of grey for eyes, and a tall yet muscular physique. though bonus points, he is everything. your own personal drive to do and be better. 

that’s why you feel as though he needs the perfect gift, so you can show seishiro that he motivates you to succeed just as much as you motivate him. most of what he does is for you, not just his ego. 

it’s only right that you treat him the same way.

so a video game for his birthday could suffice, but as a big time soccer player earning big time money — he practically owns almost every game to have ever existed. there’s not a piece of jewellery in the world that might ignite a bit of passion in him, except for the black studs he wears when he’s not on the pitch and even then, nagi never changes them. he’s a creature of habit, he likes things the way they’ve always been and disturbing that would be less than an ideal present. you’d go for more little homely house plants, but between his hectic schedule and the sleep he craves when not working, you think the white-haired striker would struggle with raising a high maintenance army of greenery.

everything seishiro nagi usually wants and typically likes… they aren’t things that you can wrap up with luxury paper and a pretty silk bow — they’re circumstances caused by a butterfly effect starting many months ago. you can’t put a perfect day into a box and call it a gift, no matter how many times nagi tells you that all he wants is you. you’d feel bad if your presence was his only present, what would you have to show for as his girlfriend? 

compared to the likes of other bluelock wags, stags and partners…you find it hard to come up with something that will prove your worth. diamonds and flashy cars, expensive trips and gourmet foods aren’t something you can afford out of your own dime and you’re not even sure seishiro would care if he wasn’t able to share these experiences with you. but that doesn’t stop the nagging, itching feeling that peels through the layers of thick skin like a bug that bites. this would be your first time celebrating nagi day with him as a couple. you at least want to make it special.

it would be the perfect time to prove yourself worthy of every little drop of love he so tenderly showers you with — almost as though you’re one of those mini cacti he raises back home.

an opportunity arises once the bluelock team departs the country for an away game right around the time of the genius striker’s birthday, meaning that you wouldn’t be able to celebrate with one another in person. in a way, you were relieved — the time apart would give you more time to search for the right gift but being long distance was never easy. not for the two of you, so used to being wrapped up in one another’s arms and scents. and when seishiro’s teammates insist on flying you out for his birthday; to cheer him up between practises and matches — that gnawing sensation you’d been feeling, the dire need to prove yourself as the perfect footballer’s girlfriend dials back. just a touch. 

he’s been missing you, he always does. it’s evident in the way that his plays become more sluggish and his mannerisms grow dazed and drowsy —  like he’s out of it. sometimes, seishiro can’t function without you there, up in the stands to cheer him on — it’s too much of a hassle to be his best when his girl isn’t around. who is there to show off to? who is there to make proud? without you, there’s barely any motivation to win.

so maybe that’s what he needs… to touch you, feel you, kiss you again. instead of a ridiculously fancy gift. maybe you’ve been selfish, ignoring the one simple desire your boyfriend had for a day dedicated solely to him rather than choosing to focus on how that would make you look in the eyes of world, instead of how you looked in his eyes. 

no insecurity of yours is worth the cost of his happiness.

therefore, on the eve of seishiro nagi's birthday ( may 5th and not the 6th ) with a prepaid ticket from isagi in hand, you nervously board a plane set to land halfway across the globe in a matter of hours. and hope in your heart that your arrival is enough to satisfy the genius striker’s birthday wishes. 

you’re quiet when opening the door to seishiro’s hotel room — instinctively flinching until your  shoulders are raised high enough to level with your neck at the offensive buzz it makes upon scanning your keycard for entry. it’s a spare from swiped from yoichi, you shove it into your back pocket with baited breath and pray that it hasn’t roused your sleepy boyfriend.

the room itself is shrouded in darkness, inky black painting the contours and corners from where the curtains are drawn to their max and every light switch is turned off. you can just about see your hands in front of you, deciding to shrug off your backpack and leave it by the door with your suitcase to avoid stumbling over it while your vision is impaired. after a few moments of blind feeling, you adjust to the dimness around you — guided by the familiar scent of baby-safe detergent and the sound of soft snoring towards the luxurious king size bed where your sweet boyfriend snoozes soundly.

it’s crazy, how your mind and body works to find him even when your other senses are down. nagi’s calm and safe aura lulls you into his orbit and you don’t ever seem to find yourself fighting it. perhaps he feels the same way about you. drawn to you like a moth to a flame, dying happily by it’s light.

your gaze lands on him, curled up in a heap under high-thread count bedsheets and blankets. comfortable. safe. you’re desperate to be near him after time apart, eager to inch past the barriers of his skin and make space for yourself in his rib cage right next to his heart because you cannot believe that you convinced yourself to stay away from him in the name of gift wraps and tags. kicking your shoes off at the foot of the bed frame, you crawl onto the mattress, hands and knees sinking into its plush memory foam like quicksand.

sitting back on your knees whilst hanging over the sleeping striker, your brain is able to piece together the truth in the meaning of his name. calmness. the sensation washes over you like the gentle lap of waves against a serene, picturesque shoreline — seishiro nagi looks so calm while he sleeps. as though he’s an angel resting or passing time on the fluffiest cloud in heaven. the thought makes you smile softly to yourself in the dark, a hand moving to brush stray strands of snowy locks away from his pretty face. 

“sei,” comes your attentive whisper, hidden beneath the quietness of night. your boy. all yours. so beautiful like this, you’d hate to interrupt his sweet dreams. “baby, wake up…” he keens into your touch even under the guidance of sleep, lifting silvery locks splayed across crisp, flat-ironed pillowcases to nuzzle against your palm. the sound of your voice fails to rouse him, and for a moment you contemplate slipping behind him and joining his deep slumber… but you just want to see his eyes.

see them and know that you’re wanted. 

so you try again, raking your nails through the shaggy roots of his hair and scratching at his scalp. you miss his voice, his scent, his touch. this is easier than forcing yourself to stay away from him, much less of a hassle to desire nagi’s proximity than to deny it. 

“seishiro…”

this time, his body answers your call and the mattress squeaks under the weight of his stocky frame rolling over until his back hits the sheets. still, though, he doesn’t wake. moving quickly, you seize the opportunity to clamber into the lazy genius’ lap — straddling his hips, pelvis to pelvis, as you admire him from above. “mph…baby?” he grumbles at the familiar, pressure of your body on his, still constricted by the misty fog of sleep. he reaches for you because he knows it’s you, instantaneously and it’s cute how even then he searches for you, like you would him. 

he likes your warmth, the smell of the shea butter lathered onto your skin, the closeness — like a safety net. the world is so bothersome without you, that’s why he can’t help but react to you even while he rests. not that you mind and even though you really should sleep after such a long flight, surprise him in the morning, everything within you is screaming at you to take more. give more.

“it’s just me, sei,” you coo and swallow down the ardour that begins to mount in the depths of your throat, like soot from the fire of lust sparking in your lower belly. “don’ worry,” exhaling sharply, you swoop down to press the wisps of a kiss to the tip of his nose — more so to calm yourself down, distract yourself from the desire that you unwillingly allow to spread through you, than anything else.

you can’t control your hips, the way they subtly grind down on seishiro’s lap while he snoozes away so preciously. he’s too pretty, too soft, too warm. he makes it unable to resist. a craving for more spreads across your brain like a sheet of rain during a storm, slipping into the deficits and dips of your brain — clouding your mind with lust. you act on the feeling tingling just beneath the surface of your skin, pushing the heat between your thighs against the subdued hardness trapped behind signature grey sweats that hang low on the striker’s taut hips.

the soccer star visibly relaxes as a result of your subtle affections and sinful movements, the uneven crease between his brows fades into nothingness whilst his adorable pout does the same — only, rather than going back to sleep, seishiro’s ashy grey eyes begin to flutter open and you’re soon face to face with the man you love more than anything in the world. “‘m not worried,” he quips quite directly, the baritone notes of his voice caked in a layer of exhaustion. nagi’s back bows from the bed, his cruelly slender waist jutting upwards to match your pace. “what are you… what are doing here?”

he’s breathless beneath you; lines of sleep still caressing the prettiest patches of his soul, already ready to give himself to you despite just barely returning to the real world. the sight of him sends an unbearable ache down the segments of your spine, crackling at your pelvis and shooting to clit nestled against his crotch. “it’s your birthday, sei,” you whisper, feeling shy as if you weren’t just intent on using his body tonight. not that nagi would mind, it was something he loved. being close to you without asking. “i flew in to surprise you…”

large, veiny hands land on your hips causing goosebumps to rise across their expanse like chicken skin, not guiding you but simply holding you in place — stopping you from retreating into your shy little shell away from your boyfriend's moonlit gaze. nagi raises a brow, quickly checks the date on the digital clock banished to the night stand, and then exhales deeply through his nose — expression vacant and tired but eyes swirling with a bout of mischief. 

hidden desire contrastingly dances through the smoke screen flecks dotted around his pupils too, telling you that his touch isn’t as innocent as one may first think.  “oh… yeah, it is,” his thumbs slip under the loose hem of your shirt, a comfortable one from your apartment back home with his scent intertwined with each little stich and loose thread. a pleased hum rumbles from the depths of seishiro’s chest once the pads of his thumbs make contact with the marred surface of your skin, drawing lazy circles against it. “flew all this way f’me, huh?”

“always for you.” 

“what a hassle.” there’s no malice in his tone and when he licks his lips, wetting them from where they’ve dried up during sleep, and basks in the way your line of sight instantly drops to his tongue — pretty pink darting out and swiping over micro cracks and crevices in otherwise plush, fleshy lips. seishiro appreciates…you. only his girl would fly across the globe to be with him on his birthday, that’s the kind of love and passion that motivates him to be better. good.

everything has a point when he’s with you.

“it’s not, i mean, it wasn’t,” your breath hitches as nagi’s gentle touch coasts over your skin whilst it warms, turning to an almost bruisingly tight grip that allows him to  pulling you back and forth over his lap. the white-haired striker knows exactly what he’s doing, lazily building up an undeniable tension that coils in your stomach and muddles up all of your thoughts.“anyway…i know it’s late a-and we should probably sleep,” incoherent musings come out as a rush, tangling with the heated particles that buzz in the night air — so full of mounting lust and kinetic energy. 

you’re rambling, you’re turned on and you’re flustered all at once. 

but that’s just what he does to you, and it’s so much worse when you’ve been away from each other for too long. seishiro hardens between your supple thighs before either of you can realise it, his erect and pulsating cock nestled between your clothed folds — catching on the hood of your clit through even layers of pure cotton and polyester. the feeling of him beneath you, so ready and so giving, has your steadiness swimming — the strength to keep yourself up already faltering to the point where you need to rest your hands against his firm chest. “but i was wondering… what you wanted for your birthday?” 

he hums at your dizziness, pushing your shirt up further. “nothin’ special,” comes his half-hearted reply, focus landing on the subtle rise and fall of your chest — trailing down to the softness of your tummy that he exposes to the word. “just you. like this.” nagi’s eyes darken, a storm brews within them — you can see the cogs whirring in his tired mind almost as if he’s calculating something. 

the white-haired soccer player bucks upwards experimentally, only once, pressing more of his girth against your pussy as it slickens with anticipation and you realise…

he’s measuring just how much of himself will fit inside you. 

the thought makes you groan with your  lips caught between your teeth — biting down hard enough to draw blood. flavours of iron would be enough to distract you from your aching clit and the soaked through gusset of your panties, but it wouldn’t take away how much you want him in this moment. “sei…” using a warning tone, you paw at his pecs and lean down to hide your embarrassed face in his neck — ragged breaths tickling the milky skin there.

just the mere implication of nagi comparing his size to you, imagining how he’s going to fuck you has you panting like a puppy in heat.

you’ve taken him many times before, in plenty of different ways… that doesn’t mean you’re not shy about it. nagi could have anything he wanted today — you may be new to this girlfriend thing ( girlfriend of a football star no less ), but you know that the world is at his fingertips. so, to think that your boyfriend, as handsome and as desirable as he is, can only think of fucking you for his birthday, it messes you up. does something to you. flusters you until you fall apart and your pieces are beyond repair. 

“i mean it, don’ want anything fancy. just you. on top of me like this. feels good…” seishiro continues to rasp, shaking out his pearlescent bed hair that seems to catch the light of the moon in the dark. something about his laziness is so sexy to you and you’re sure there’s a dark spot on the front of both of your sweats from how much his deep, sleepy voice makes your cunt gush and contract around nothing. “please, baby. you’ll do that for me, yeah?”

“yeah… yes, i can.” you’re nodding your head eagerly before the words have even been strung together — gasping shakily against seishiro’s skin as his hands trail down to your ass to squeeze fleshy cheeks, using them to pull you down against his prominent bulge. he slots between your legs perfectly, like he belongs underneath you or you on top of him. you hardly hold back the moans tucked into his neck, your fingers wrapping in silverdust locks while you hug his head — wanting to be impossibly closer to him.

whilst he appears to be in more control, nagi is no better than you are. he feels like he’s on fire, burning up with the feverish need to fuck you, make you his, fill you up. oh god, how he’s missed this. the adrenaline pumping through his veins, swirling around in the blood that rushes through his ears and down to his cock as it oozes against your covered cunt. there’s only two things that have ever gotten seishiro nagi this rilled up — one of them being you. his beautiful fucking angel; a simpering mess above him, clinging on him and depending on him for pleasure. “mmph, good girl,” his praise runs like molten sugar right through you, sugary enough to make you feel like you’re high despite the late hour. “want you to ride me. will you do that f’me too?”

seishiro squeezes your ass between deft fingers as if to ground himself. they feel so good on you, his lips pressing open mouthed kisses just beneath your ear lobe feels even better. nagi won’t let you go when you’re like this — so sweet and on the verge of collapsing on top of him. he has to soothe you because it soothes him, as if touching you and holding you and kissing you is the only thing that could possibly make him feel alive.

“anything you want, sei.” you reply weakly, lost  under the blanket of the night, you rut and grind against one another like two lovers leading each other blindly. you’ve hardly even started and you’re already close to tears just from having the striker’s sweatpants rub your clit until it’s raw and sticky. 

“i want you.” he murmurs firmly, his cadence still rough with sleep. you barely register his next movements, your entire thought process and any feedback turned to sluggish mush when your boyfriend suddenly pushes you both to sit up — his mouth slothenly finding yours in a languid lip lock. it’s slow, sexy and all-consuming, as if seishiro is trying to make you a part of him. his tongue licks into the crevices of your hot, wet mouth as you pour delectable, dulcet whimpers and whines into him. 

your breath tastes like spearmint like you’d brushed your teeth on the plane, but still has underlying notes of you. all he wants is to swallow you down, never come up for air no matter how your lungs may burn and beg for oxygen. nagi has missed this. he needed this. you find yourself chasing his mouth, his sinful tongue as it rolls over yours — wetly whining between pecks because you need nagi so bad you can hardly put it into words. fingers comb through pure white hair, noses knock against each other and become neighbours, whilst hands grow bolder and finally tug more forcefully at your clothes — impatient, ready to free you and expose you to possessive, fluttering sleepy grey eyes.

eventually the need to breathe outweighs the need to kiss each other and your lips glisten with sweat once you finally manage to pull away from the striker’s greedy grip on you. “arms up, angel,” blue lock’s lazy genius commands under his ragged breath, his tone firm but laced with affection. nagi lifts the hem of your shirt once you do what you’re told, throwing the article of clothing into the abyss of his hotel room. your bra receives the same treatment, exposing your nipples to cool-ish air.  “let’s take these off, they’re in our way,” a beat of silence passes, most spent on ogling the goosebumps that form at your chest like pin pricks — your boyfriend pings the elastic of waistband, causing you to yelp in surprise. “what a bother.” he pacifies you by rubbing cruel circles around your areola until reaching the hardening bud in the middle and pinching it.

in a flurry of fabrics, your own sweats are tugged down and tossed away with your panties — leaving you completely vulnerable and bare to your boyfriend’s manic, starved stare. he drinks you in like you’re the first woman he’s ever seen, the first glass of water to be found in a never-ending stretch of desert sand. before you can even make a move to cover yourself, wrap your own arms around the swell or your breasts — seishiro grasps your wrists a little too eagerly, nearly startling you out of your feverish skin when he pulls them down to have your palms resting on his chest. 

only after he’s sure you’ll be a good girl and stay in place, does he release his hold on you. but it’s far too late for that, by now your soul is tethered to his by strong ropes of longing and lecherousness.

“don’t forget what you promised me,” lifting his hips, nagi repositions himself on his back and yanks down his sweats  — moaning loud at the dark patch you’ve left on his crotch. tucking the waistband of both his pants and his boxers under heavy cum- filled balls — too drained to take them off properly. only then does his cock spring free, slapping sloppily against his toned abdomen, abs prominent through his light sleep-shirt. the lazy genius’ size is just as impressive as he is, where he is long and curved, he is also thick. idiotically pretty, his tip a delicious rose pink shade which might as well be vermillion red from how sore he is — oozing a viscous stream of cream from your earlier ministrations. pale blue gradienting to purple veins wrap around his cock like delicate ribbon on the perfect present, kicking to life as dopamine and other happy hormones rush to his shaft. 

the sight of him is hypnotic, calling to you like a siren’s song and you feel all of your self control slipping away when your hips jump forward — encasing his milky-tipped cock between your syrupy folds, rocking yourself back and forth. back and forth. back and forth over him — driven by the spark of ecstasy pulsing at the sticky sensitive pressure nub hidden between your puffy pussy lips every time his bulbous cock head nudges against it. you’re like a puppet on strings and seishiro your puppeteer, his pillow soft mewls and breathy, pleased laughter leading you through this impure performance. 

claggy, cloying sounds reverberate between your sweltering sexes that rub salaciously against each other — ad-libbed by the gentle sighs the two of you share. echoing in a sweet symphony of love making that only serves to dizzy you and make the world spin on its axis. all you feel, smell and taste is as him. all of him mingles with the air fizzling in the intimate night and all of you is put on display for his viewing pleasure. you are his present, his reward for working so hard. his everything.

eventually, a shaky hand reaches between your intertwined mess of half-dressed, half naked limbs to gluttonously grasp at the lazy striker’s chubbed up cock. you’ve had enough of grinding and humping at him, your whole body is aching for more. there’s a twinge of pain that blossoms in your lower belly and spreads throughout your sopping mound because she’s oh so desperate to be filled. 

you need him inside or you feel like that flickering wildfire of unadulterated lechery raging inside might burn you alive. blacken your organs and taint your soul with sin. you’re rushing, to put it simply, hotly pressing nagi’s mushroomed, pitifully creamy and red tip against the tight ring of your entrance as it flutters around nothing. squeezing droplets of your arousal onto him which helps act as the perfect form of lube.

nagi tuts at your impatience, he’s never liked to rush, always taking his time to make you fall apart but it’s so entertaining to see you crave him like this. so badly that your pretty face crumples above him like your world is falling apart and you’re about to shed some of those precious angel tears for him. “e-easy, angel,” he voices quietly, soft spoken words quickly turning into a hiss as your spasming hole easily circles and glides over the tip of his dick. “my birthday’s just begun…” from there, those very same comforting, warm palms from earlier take hold of your ass — pulling you forward as the white-haired soccer star aligns himself with your entrance and rolls his cock up into you. 

you do the rest of the work, it is his birthday after all, and push down to meet him halfway — burying your face against his stardust freckled skin and biting shoulder to cope with the delicious stretch as his weighty, viscous girth bottoms out inside of you. “slow… go slow, baby. want this to last. wanna feel you…” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, when you’re finally, finally fully seated down on him. though, it’s not long before seishiro throws his head back into the lush hotel pillows with an alluring whine — lips parting wide enough for you to see the strings of saliva that connect the roof of his mouth to his strawberry tongue, drool sloshing across its surface. “hah…mmm, angel. you’re so, m’fuck, you’re s’fucking tight.” 

if you had the brain cells to function, you’d agree. say something dirty in return, but you’re so exhausted from your flight and too worked up to even process full sentences — you’re just about conscious enough to relish in the feeling of his cock nestled perfectly along your rippling wet walls. almost as if they’re welcoming him home. “s-sei,” you whinge all babyish against his neck. “missed how you feel…” a displeased huff from him coasts along your skin as you pull back, but now you’re able to look at him with those beautiful, shiny bambi eyes that make his gut twist and his thick precum to pool deep inside of you. “‘s so big. feel so full.”   

“you can take it. yeah, pretty thing?” he coos; oxygen escaping from his lungs as if the air he breathes is thinned from how high he is — like it would to at a mountain top. because he is. high. high on you like you’re some kind of class A drug. high on the way you feel, wrapped around him so warm and wet — hugging him close, cunt locking around him to keep him inside. he’s high like he’s an addict and he never wants to give you up, never wants to go to rehab to get over you. so he trains you, makes you work for your own high to ensure that you’ll never ever leave him. “you promised me, s’my birthday.” 

a shaky sigh lays wet on your lips, your lashes fluttering against the exposed parts of his skin.  “uhuh… promised.” 

with that, you sit up straight and dig your knees into the crumpled duvet half discarded on the bed — peeling your salt-licked skin away from nagi’s so that you can lift and drop your syrupy cunt down on him steadily. you move up and down, up and down — picking up more momentum each time your pussy goes from suctioning around the swell of his base to just barely squeezing his miry tip. at first, you’re slow, sensual — just like he asked, airily squealing like a lamb at the slaughter house with each thrust. skin sluggishly slaps on skin, accompanying the glacé gripes clawing their way out of the inside of your throat whilst his deft digits splay out against your bare back — fingertips tucking themselves into the divot where your spine is. seishiro strokes along the length of it, sending an electrical current straight up to your brain, causing you to short circuit. 

again, despite his hands exploring and touching you, he does nothing to guide or help you navigate magnetic push and pull between you both as you make love — he’s leaving that all up to you, you are supposed to be spoiling him on his birthday after all. you’re too buzzed off him, too hooked on seishiro nagi to mind that he’s laying still beneath you, only pushing up when you’re too shallow when pushing down. instead, you savour the feeling of his thick cock and it’s prominent veins dragging against your soft, silken walls. 

creamy strings of your arousal cling to each blue ridge that spirals down his shaft, the probable cause of the lewd, squelch of your sex when you grind down on him — let him fill you to the brim once more. “angel,” he simpers, swollen lips escaping the prison of his perfect teeth just for a second as he inhales the waves of lust radiating from your pores. “do you know how wet you are? how good you feel…?” his praise runs like honey through your system, urging you to move atop him with more vigor — your grinding increasingly impassioned as you ride him feverishly. nagi’s rough palms become hot and tacky against the slope of your back but he refuses to let go of you — holding you there, making sure you can’t pull too far off him because he feels like he might die if his dick isn’t safely tucked inside your dripping cunt.

“yes,” you say without really understanding what you’re responding to, your own hands slipping up to shimmering milky-toned shoulder blades and the base of seishiro’s throat — not squeezing. just grounding yourself and reminding him to keep his hazy, stormy eyes on you no matter how blurred his vision may get. “s’all ‘cause of you, sei. o-only you get me like this…” you manage to cry out, but now you’re crying in two different ways. through your voice and your cunt as it bounces on nagi’s drooling cock. you just want to make sure that he sees it, the way your seams start to loosen and the threads of your sanity unravel because it’s his fault you’re like this. 

“not fair, angel. fuck, y’not bein’ fair…” he pants in reply, gaze dropping from the twist of your face to between your glistening thighs; enamoured by the way his chubby cock rhythmically disappears into your swollen pussy. you have no idea how much seishiro needed this, how his fist and pretty pictures of you just weren’t enough to keep him going. he wonders if you know the effect you have on him, shattering the pieces of his soul with you being the only person able to put him back together again. “won’ be able to function without your pussy on me…wanna stay like this forever.” 

nagi’s focus flickers back up to meet your line of sight whilst his slender fingers dance across your body, swallowing down a thick whine when he uses them to spread your nether lips — showing off small waves of your sweet nectar as it glazes his thighs and shaft. “fuck, dont you want that too, angel? keep you full of me forever. like this…” he comments avidly, grinding up into you for a moment furthering your pleasure by jamming his cockhead against your g-spot just to prove his point. “would be such a hassle to do anythin’ else. you could just be with me…”

you tremble and your muscles tense at the new sensation, you blossom under his words and observation — drowning in the storm of his hazy eyes whilst blood dotted with lustful hormones course through you rapidly, stinging right at your exposed clit. every drag of his length against your salacious insides ruins you for everyone else, you could imagine a world where you’re fucked and ruined by him every day and you like it — the idea goading you to ride him faster, harder, clumsily slamming yourself down on him to your heart’s content. 

even from underneath you, relaxed and only lazily bucking up into you on occasion ( when he thinks you need it or deserve it ) — seishiro has so much power over you. he’s the only one able to make you bounce on it until there’s a dulcet crack in your voice and white hot tears are stinging at your waterline — your bodies in a dance together in a way that only lovers know, making you both experts in tangled limbs heaving moans. such levels of intense passion and intimacy have your sodden mound seizing around the white-haired striker, causing a hiccup in the way he lovingly and slowly begins to pound away at you from below.

to be fair to him, you’re very motivational. those dreamy sighs you let out and those  bedroom eyes you look down at him with. those lush lips that you lick in concentration... the list goes on. each little thing about you is like another carrot in front of a prized horse; you’re something he wants to chase after, someone he yearns for. being with you is just as thrilling as the soccer he plays for a living, every time your bodies touch and connect like this, accompanied by a sense of vulnerability that trickles into the humid air — nagi is reminded of how lucky he is to have all of you. you’ll forever be his greatest gift.

in the dead of night, mere hours into his birthday, you give yourself up for him — rip open your chest and bear your heart all for seishiro nagi, the muscle beating rapidly behind your breasts as they sway from the force of your hips crashing down to match your boyfriend’s pace. “wan’ that, wan’ you,” you bleat, sounding so much needier and aroused than ever before — your sugary voice layered over musical tracks of sweat-drenched skin slapping wetly on skin. “please… need more. more of you always. don’ wanna be without you ever again…” 

“mmnn, pretty thing. you’re so perfect,” the striker groans low and sexy, sending a rush of hot dopamine over your tired brain and arousing it further. “want s’much more but you’re not even done riding me yet,” seishiro cocks his head to the side, moonlight locks spreading out across the pillows like refracted pattern from a gem that’s caught light. if he shimmers, then you shine — glowing in the dark from the sex and light sheen of sweat clinging to your naked flesh. “gonna kill me with how pretty you sound ‘n how needy you are…” his hand that once parted your folds now dances its way up your pelvis, traces over the chub at your waist and smooths over your soft tummy — feeling for how deep he’s gotten, churning up your guts while you languidly roll your clenching cunt over him.

next they toy and tug on your hardened nipples, circling your sensitive areolas just to make you twitch whilst the supple mounds of flesh bounce with every thrust. collar bones, the base of your throat, the tip of your chin — they all end up grazed by an adoring touch, acting as checkpoints in your boyfriend’s whistle stop tour of his favourite parts of you. of course, he continues his trek until he’s reached up high enough to brush a thumb under the curve of your bottom lip. 

“open up, sweet thing,” nagi taps his fingers against your mouth and if you focus enough through the fog of your mind — you can even smell yourself on his fingertips.

obediently, your lips part — warm breath coasting along the pads of nagi’s digits before you take them into your greedy little mouth. you happily suck on what your boyfriend gives you, two fingers pressing down on the drooly palette of your tongue, your frenzied emotions become subdued like someone has wiped you mind and you’ve become a clean slate — where all that remains is the white-haired striker pumping up into your hot, juicy pussy each time you slam it back down on him. 

a quiet ‘fuck’ drifts from seishrio’s open mouth, drawing your attention to his strawberry tongue poking at the inner epithelium of his cheek as he sets his mirthy sights on you while your hips roll like a rushing river over him – occasionally pulling his throbbing, seedy dick from the snugness of your creamy cunt. the striker admires you like you belong in a museum. as though you’re a flawless piece of oil-painted art or a perfectly smooth marble statue – even with all the parts of you that you pull to pieces or despise. the view from where he is, down there, is one he tries to sketch into his brain for all of eternity… because he doesn’t want to forget and he wants something to remember you by when the time comes for you to leave. 

you’re so beautiful, licking between his fingers, thick globs of frothy spit seeping from the corners of your mouth. he has to fight the urge to sit up and taste it on you – instead choosing to fuck your mouth like you fuck his cock. the striker presses down on your tongue to make you writhe in his lap, and although he’s the one technically in control, you are the reason for the gentle thrum of ecstasy vibrating through his lean, athletic frame. “you like that? does that feel good? sucking me in from both ends…” the player asks, his voice shaky and increasingly husky from how lovestruck and turned on he is. 

having him pressed up against the walls of your blisteringly hot slit, nudging against that one special spot deep inside your swollen pussy fries your brain – causes your jaw to slacken while you sleepily suck on his digits. your poor pussy even trembles around him, catching on the ridges of his length that plunges in and out of you. “feels s’good, sei… so, so good–!” your words are muffled by the way he strokes at your tongue, drowned by spit, because you really do feel like you’re about to see the pearly gates of heaven. its evident in the way your eyes roll back into your skull and sex squelches at every thrust. 

yet, it's not enough for him, seeing you like this is still not enough to appease nagi’s ever growing appetite. like the egoist within him on the pitch, he has a sickly urge to devour you – especially when you lean away to sit back on your haunches, using your grip on his thighs as leverage to keep working yourself down on his thickness – cunt locking and unlocking around his frothy base that stretches your little hole. you don’t stop, shifting your hips in slow sensual movements to help him sink deeper into you and pulsing against hot, viscous and squishy pleasure spots dotted along your insides. spots that only he can reach. “love the way you fuck me, pretty girl,” seishiro feels like he’s losing his mind underneath you, stuck between chasing the sweltering heat of your insides and kicking back to enjoy the show entirely. “but ‘good’ isn’t good enough…need you to feel like heaven. make it even better, baby.”

he groans lowly and relishes in the feeling of your warm wet walls tightening around his erection, pulling his digits from the splashy cavern of your mouth – seishiro drags them back down your body, leaving a tacky wet trail in their wake to reach between your doughy thighs for what lies between your fat pussy lips.

with your hips rocking together fluidly, your boyfriend is careful when letting the pad of his thumb graze your aching clit as it rears its adorable little head between your nether lips. frantically, you grind against his digit and stain it with your thick, trecaly essence. everything is coated in everything that you leak, the mess worsened by the tiny spurts of precum nagi rewards you with. although, it does help his impressive size glide through your sugar-coated lining of your gushy walls. every time his fingers flick against your puffy pleasure pearl, you’re one step closer to crumbling above him.

something. you need something to ground yourself. overwhelmed by exhaustion and love and desire. “g-god, s-sei!” squealing like a lamb being taken to the slaughter house you lift a hand from his clothed leg, over his knee and reach for the bottom of his sleep shirt. “please…pleasepleaseplease – need more. wan’ more. a-anythin’ from you. for you,” you’re babbling brainlessly with no idea of what you’re begging for – the delicious burn of his girth against the tiny, tensed rim of your entrance distracts you from even thinking straight. “wanna feel you, sei,” you add onto the tail end of your mewled words whilst you continue to paw at his last remaining article of clothing. fishing for his stupid shirt. still, you remain timid and shy despite how you moan like seishiro’s perfect, personal little whore.

that’s okay. your boyfriend likes that look on you. stupid, dumb and sleepy on his cock. his heart roars in the left side of his chest but circulates passion and excitement through the rest of his body. you turn seishiro nagi on in more ways than one. physically and mentally — he can’t help but get all worked up around you, even in the dead of night.  “you want this off? can you ask me nicely, angel?” he chuckles leisurely, mouth falling open to mock your seraphic moans whilst he relentlessly toys and pinches and draws shapes on your viscid clit.

“c-can you take it off, please sei. been good,” you drawl, all high-pitched and whistle-toned like a puppy begging for the treat in its owner’s hand. seishiro has you on a tight leash, his little well trained pet – even if he doesn’t mean for things to end up that way. neither of you really mind it, though.

a bemused, fond smile tugs at the seams of his lips because you really are so perfect for him. the perfect gift. he’s thought about it about a million times tonight. it all rushes to his head, messing with the sleepy tendrils curled around his consciousness; the way you claw at him, the way the silverness of the moon catches on the saltine-perspiration on your skin and your glistening slit that leaves webs of slick on his sweats and pubes. he tortures you for a little bit longer, signing his signature against the most sensitive part of your sex for a few seconds longer – happy to see you jolt, hear you practically sob above him before he relents. “yeah, yeah… been so good f’me, sweet angel,” nagi releases your poor clit and then uses his arousal painted fingers to remove his shirt. he takes the fabric hem between his pearlescent teeth – revealing exquisitely carved abs shaped by his soccer career to your delirious gaze. “always gonna give my pretty girl what she wants…”

your lungs threaten to explode as your gaze rakes over him and oxygen in them fades to nothing when your boyfriend tugs the article of clothing the rest of the way off. you choke on a moan, the fluid motions of your doughy hips faltering for a moment. the second his chest is laid bare to the humid, sex struck air you’re immediately jumping forward to press your naked chest to his. now, you feel complete. content. with your hearts beating against each other in sync like a promise of loving each other eternally, made in the depths of the dark. you feel fully connected, skin on skin, nipples brushing against each other – it makes you tingle, makes your pussy drip down his balls like a never ending tap in this new position. you’re so shamefully wet that crude slaps drown out the sounds of your shared laments.

“want you. only you, sei.  h-hah, fuck!” you simper softly, the sound warbling with the threat of crying. “love you s’much, i love you.”

just as your tears start to spill over the edge and flow down the apples of your cheeks, strong and safe arms wrap around your shoulders – anchoring you to seishrio’s lap and cock, giving him the leverage to pull you up and down on him in a nasty, passionate manner. you’re so close now, impossibly so, and you love it because you get to hear the striker in ways no one else ever will. his deplorable, breathy whimpers coast along the shell of your ear heatedly and pick up when he begins to jackhammer into you with levels of motivation he dedicates only to you.

you make seishiro nagi want to do the unthinkable. the unspeakable. he would move mountains for you if you asked, if it were possible. he’s never wanted to do that for anyone other than himself when playing soccer.

you may be falling apart on top of him… but you’ll always be able to control him as much as he does you.

the bed below, as expensive and sturdy as it may be, begins to creak beneath the weight of it all. squealing louder than you do into the crook of seishiro’s neck as you dampen it with moist moans tears. he’s angling his hips up to press directly against your g-spot, grey eyes wild like an uncaring hurricane whilst he taps into his ego to make you see stars. and you take it, no matter how brutish his sluggish thrusts are, pussy eagerly swallowing him down. “love you, angel. my perfect angel, huh?” he grunts slackly and in restraint. you love him and if you say it again, especially in that voice, he’ll break in ways that only men in love will know. you just… do that to him. make it so he could cream your insides before he’s ready to. “you… y’really do it t’me, baby. can’t help it when ‘m with you… jus’ end up going crazy.”

his eyelashes flutter against your damp cheeks and his voice begins to wander into a dark slur that you willingly sink under the surface for. it brings you closer and closer to the edge, and you’re so tired from the flight out here and the work you’ve put into fucking your white-haired soccer star that you’re not sure you can hold it back. “y’make me crazy too,” you pant, too out of your mind to say more, muttering praises into his skin, clenching down on him to the point where your arousals mingle and foam at the thick base of his pulsing length. you hug his head, intertwining your fingers in his sweat-locked silver hair and tug on it as if it’ll keep you tied to earth instead of floating out of the atmosphere from the pleasure. “a-are you close? need you to cum inside… been waitin’ for it. missed it…” 

oh, how he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the idea too. filling you up with a hot round of his seed until it was practically pouring out of you. breeding you. the two of you aren’t strangers to the dangers of him cumming inside – nagi hardly ever pulls out if he doesn’t have to. most of your intimate moments end in that way, with a spent cunt and a drooly cock, the result of many lazy early mornings started by the kick of his morning wood against your backside and nights like this. it's too much of an effort and too much of a mess if he cums anywhere else. and also, it’s much more a plus to focus on watching your face as he pumps you full and feels you struggle to keep it all in. 

“need it that bad, huh? so soon?” he’s being a little mean without really meaning to, licking over the front of his teeth and grunting as he increases the weight behind his thrusts – eager to push you as close to the edge as possible. his dick throbs in the embrace of your deliriously addictive walls from where you’ve got him fucked up beyond imaginable, but he keeps it together, long enough to ruin you and hear you sniffle from the overstimulation. “almost, angel. almost. can you hold on f’me?”

you said you’d do anything for seishiro and at the time, you’d meant it but now your muscles are achingly wary and your eyelids are growing heavier, and heavier by the second. just as you shake your head ‘no’ a loud and childish sob bursts from between your lips, wet and whiny while your hole flutters loyally around his drippy dick. no, you don’t think that you can hold back, not like this, not when it hurts so good and he’s fucking you numb and dumb. 

all you can do is reply in a pitchy squeal, nearly missed by the wet sounds of you dowsing him in your sweet nectar, soaked sex slapping down on him in an uncoordinated manner. “‘m close…c-can’t–!”

still, you squirm about and you do your best to catch up with nagi’s new insane pace, his unrelenting stamina… even the backs of your thighs start to burn from the exertion — a subtle stinging tingling sensation underneath the supple flesh  from the friction against seishiro’s sweatpants and its waistband.

“‘course you can, always do,” white starts to froth at the entrance of your ravaged pussy, a mix of his precum and your juices bubbling up to leave opaque milky streaks along the length of him – clinging to the veins decorating his shaft. “c’mon, s’too much of a hassle for you to give up now, thought you wanted to be my present? make me feel good?” his words are breathlessly patronising, causing your body to jolt and jerk above his own, your hips fumble in their rhythm but that doesn’t stop you from gushing about the place either. “or is it that my poor baby is gettin’ tired…”

keening hoarsely, his voice still under the authority of sleep – nagi’s gaze slowly but surely hones in on the point at which your bodies join, taking in the sight of his pre-cum coated cockhead disappearing in and out of your puffy pussy repeatedly. his sights trail upwards to where your tummy bulges from the sight of him and he imagines how beautifully you would swell with his seed – he can’t wait any longer, not for that. 

in response to his speculation, you nod this time, desperate for relief or second to relax since your limbs are on the verge of giving out – head flying back as a result of the formidable momentum nagi uses to pummel your pretty pussy. “y-yes!” you damn near scream, not caring how loud you sound nor how late it is. “sei i-i’m… ‘m too–!”

you don’t get the chance to finish your hiccuped and heaved words, not that they make sense in between your shrieking and pleasure-filled cries, only because your loving, lazy boyfriend is snaking his bulking arm around your waist in addition to the one around your shoulders. all so that he can keep you tucked into him whilst he rolls you both onto your sides. “you’re that tired, baby? you don’t wanna fuck me anymore?” seishiro is teasing you of course, a tender smile splitting across his sweaty face whilst he fixes you both in this new position. with your calf now thrown over his slender hip and your head safely nestled into a pillow, nagi captures your lips in a searing hot and sloppy kiss before you have a chance to cry or whine about how mean he’s being. consoling you in a way as he assumes control. “s’okay, angel. don’ worry, i’ll got’cha. ‘m gonna take over, take my present now…”

only then do you remember how large seishiro is. how the sheer size of his frame is able to manhandle and dominate you. how small and safe you can be with him. you suppose he likes it too, where he gets his motivations from… the ability to commandeer you.

whatever he had commented to you had been all the reassurance you needed to hear before losing all sense and control and coordination – going limp in seishiro’s consoling hold. between your cute little please and airy, dreamy wails your lips smack against the soccer player’s – in tune with his measured grinds and ardent stream of lunges into you. his grip on you barely gives him the room to pull out from your tight, blistering mound… and it’s not like your body gives him the permission to either – your preciously greedy cunt squeezes down and locks his fervid, pre-cum pearling tip against your gummy walls. 

“f-fuck…” seishiro drawls, whiny and romantic – like what you would imagine an aphrodisiac would sound like if it could make a noise. “y’keep suckin’ me in, angel. i can get s’deep like this…” he switches it up, going from rapidly circling his hips to gentle, purposeful pounds – stringing you along on a trip to your high. with such little space between you both now, you can feel his blistering hot breath coasting along your cupid’s bow, leaving the ghost of his mark along your sweltering skin as you gush around him – marking his cock and his balls as your own with your cream. “feel that… me, right here?”

whether you mean to or not, your pussy spasms around him – keeping him there. choking the life out of nagi in a way he can’t help but enoy. he feels like he’s being rewarded for loving you just as much as he is motivated to fuck you. he never knew sex could be this amazing until he met you, and now touching you..being with you is all that he wants. especially on his birthday.

pressing your forehead to nagi’s, you nod again – lost in your own lassitude and the sweep of delectation that laps at the inner parts of your soul. “r-right there, sei. need you r-right there,” you say tranquilly, barely able to keep your big wet bambi eyes open as the white-haired striker’s sappy cock massages that spongy spot nestled deep within, the one that only he knows how to find. “p-please don’t stop sei!”

your shared arousals form an elixir of love that seeps into the bedding beneath the lazy bump and grind of your bodies – it adds shine to your clit that drags over nagi’s pelvis, webs over your skin and wafts into the air, so that it smells like sex. the two of you are everywhere. everything and it only heightens the passion you have for one another. “not gonna, angel. n-never gonna. as long as i have you…” seishiro retorts, licentiousness lining the ridges of his throat, rattling about between the bones in his ribcage.

always. forever. an eternity. is what you want to say. you’ll have him for as long as he has you. you can only hope that where your words fail you, the erotic enthusiasm you have when you kiss him can make up for it. cupping his cheeks whilst you both lay on your sides, grinding and groping at each other – you lean forward and lick the trail of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth and track it up to his plush, parted lips – where he kindly feeds you his airy moans and stray straggles of his spit. all of which you accept, wanting whatever he gives you to fuse with your body and soul, whilst keeping you sedated. tongues roll over one another agonisingly slow, adding the thrumming bliss tangled in the panted breaths the two of you exchange. your kiss speaks a million words in a million different ways and languages, portraying the love and adoration you have for the lazy genius. 

cherry red outlines seishiro’s lips, emphasising just how swollen they’ve gotten from constantly being meshed and melded against your own. “did so fuckin’ well for me… all night,” your boyfriend murmurs pensively, his words punctuated by the pervertted plap, plap, plap of his breeders balls against your syrupy mound. “really is so unfair how perfect you are f’me, angel. my pretty girl…my dream girl.” he adds through gritted teeth, making a home between your cream-soaked folds, rubbed and fucked raw – pushing back and forth between them to relieve the building ache in his erection. “g-gotta make you feel it…make you cum.”  

throughout his lazy rambles, your boyfriend’s grip ( in the mess of tangled limbs ) cascades down to handle your waist – roughly circling you on him like a well-loved rag doll while he plunges into the quivering tackiness of your pussy. an orgasm starts to burn through you like paper being held to the flickering flame of a candle and you’re not sure how much more of this you can take, being able to hold off is usually an easier task – but not today, on his birthday, when his usually soft eyes are flooded with a desire so dark the black of his pupils eclipses any colour in his eyes. 

“’m going to. g’na cum, sei,” a hearty sob burts free from your lungs, shaking your body down to its core. the visage of seishiro, your beautiful boyfriend, in front of you becomes blurry from your salty tears but you can still make out the rouge flush to his skin and the crease between his brows caused by your pleas for release. “feels so, so good. lemme cum on your cock… please–!” juicy, wet sounds stack like bricks in your hotel room, a symphony of whimpers and simpers that accompany the perfectly pitched notes from seishiro bucking into your sickeningly deluged hole. japan’s favourite genius leaks an endless stream of precum, a creamy white like the loose strands of his hair splayed across the pillows – the pre-release oozes against your ribbed insides from his bright red tip and aids his movements. they’re smoother, easier, helping him glide in and out of your clenching cunt like it's nothing. despite how tight you are around him, pussy fluttering with the intent to keep him in.

that’s how you’re reminded of his sheer size; accommodating to the way his cockhead so sweetly kisses your g-spot just by having his cock nestled inside. he throbs, fat and inflamed from an oncoming orgasm and the load he’s saved for you in his balls, weighing them down as they swing with each rut of his taut hips. “yeah?” nagi questions you groggily, swallowing thickly at the sight of you straining to stay awake and present in front of him. “you gonna cum f’me, angel? s’gonna be the best fuckin’ birthday present i’ll ever have…” he can tell that you’re there, teetering on the edge of sanity and heaven on earth. viscous drops of your treacly essence runs through your slit, spiraling down the purplish blue veins pulsating on his shaft. he’s right behind you, ready to catch you if you fall.

if he could, the soccer star would selfishly keep you writhing like this for hours, slowly making love to you until you slip from threads of consciousness. it is his birthday after all, he’s sure you’d let him… but it’d be too much effort to ask you to hold on for that long. not when you sound this wet, not when you’re blubbering and crying for him – weakly grinding on him. “that’s right. take it. take my cock, you know you can do it. gonna… gonna make you cum, i promise. s-swear it…” he coos to you like it’s a promise over the crude sound of your sexes slipping over one another. 

both of your shaky arms hug his head once more, grazing the sweat-darked curls on the nape of his neck and you arch forward on your side to press your chest against his – craving that closeness, whimpering happily as his heart beats against your breasts bouncing between your bodies with each uncoordinated and sloppy thrust. nodding your head agreeably, your next words hang between your teeth – panted out from your mouth as it slowly falls open. “‘hmygod, sei. sei please, ‘m cumming! oh… i-i’m cummming!” you don’t last much longer as your release sneaks up on you like a thief avoiding streaks of moonlight. the ropes that had been twisting in your tummy since the start of your midnight escapade finally unravel and the world around you shatters, seishiro’s hold on you being the only thing tying you to it. darkness floods your vision, black spots dotted around the corners of your love tinted lense – you don’t even realise you’re passing out from how hard you’re cumming either. you squirt fast and hard, clear streams of your own arousal spewing from your swollen cunt and rendering you useless in nagi’s strong arms.

white noise buzzes in your ear but he holds you close through it all, pulling your head down to rest against his bare shoulder to help muffle the deliciously loud wail tugging on your vocal chords. the louder you sound, the more seishiro likes it. he likes all of it really, the way your pussy drowns him in your mess and nearly forces him out, it’s exactly what he needs to reach his own peak. pushing an arm past your head, he grasps at the soiled sheets and carefully rolls you onto your back – using the last of his stamina and energy to make himself cum missionary style. as if chasing after something that’ll slip away too fast, nagi speeds up his thrusts whilst little whinges and whines spill from his cherry-bitten lips. 

“f-fuck. fuuuck, ‘m cummin’, pretty thing. gonna put it inside. won’t need to clean up, won’t ruin the sheets…w-won’t–!” the white-haired striker rasps without a care in the world, stumbling over his syllables – spit pooling on the palette of his tongue whilst he rocks into your soiled cunt harder and harder. you don’t have the strength to respond, weakly cradling the back of his neck in one hand while your nails rake down his back using the other. tears like dewdrops cling to your fluttering lashes as you watch your boyfriend fall apart above you – orgasm stacking painfully in his pelvis and practically tearing through his mountainous frame as he fucks you through the remaining aftershocks of your own high.

a final ripple of your pussy around his drippy dick opens the floodgates and his orgasm breaks the surface. nagi pushes himself as deep as he can go, every inch of himself snuggled salaciously against your honeyed walls before he finally lets go. he shakes like there’s been an earthquake, gargling against the shell of your ear whilst blisteringly white hot seed spurts against your squishy, gummy insides. there’s so fucking much of it, a layer of opaque cream smearing over your abused folds, painting you with his claim. seishiro’s cream sloshes about, but he doesn’t pull out – languidly rolling his hips into you so that he can make sure it sticks, lubing up your sex as he fucks himself further into your naked cunt.

silence trickles into the room, not uncomfortable, but instead completely content – broken only by your shared and shuddered breathing. you relish in the way he intermittently throbs and he, in the way that you convulse around him as he softens. for a moment, it’s just the two of you and no one else in the world, simply able to come down from your highs and calm down while hugging each other close.

“h-happy birthday, sei,” you whisper once your voice allows you to, it’s cadence still rough from the sex. “i love you…” 

“love you most…” fatigue sinks its claws into the white-haired striker, who collapses on top of you at the first chance he gets. he nuzzles against you as he goes, closing his eyes and peppering your wet face with soft little kisses as if to help soothe you both. “mmm. happy birthday to me, i guess,” comes his exhausted, yet pleased, hum. “you okay, angel?” nagi’s still regaining his ability to speak properly, a pleasant buzz crackling like static over his brain whilst he inhales through his nose, memorising the scent of your union. of you. “went too hard, i think.” everything feels right when you’re together like this, more peaceful and safe. exactly what a relationship should be

so, you shake your head, searching for grey eyes that meet your own with a doting gaze. “you were perfect,” you grin tiredly, growing shy underneath him. “i hope i was too…”

“the best, always are,” he’s quick to reply, checking you over for bruises and hissing as you clench around him. nagi can tell that you don’t want him to pull out, that you need him in close proximity to properly come back down. so, he clings to you, rubs small circles into the parts of you he can reach and just… loves you. as best as he can. “stay with me, lay with me. don’ wanna let you go just yet. you’re my present after all.” seishiro pouts entirely too cutely, doing a complete one-eighty to the man who was wrecking your insides just mere minutes ago.

humming you feel yourself begin to lose the fight to sleep – choosing to bask in nagi’s warmth and love instead of stay wide awake. “all yours.” you sigh out, completely reassured that your presence alone is always going to be enough to keep the lazy egoist happy on his birthday. more than happy.

seishiro nagi will always want you, always need you, always love you – especially when you fly across the globe to be with him on his birthday. 

falling asleep together, with your fingers intertwined and your hearts beating in sync.

RIGHTS RESERVED © LOSTWRLDS 2025. the content seen here belongs to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

Hi there Peahen mom, I read the drabble blood oath with Jaron and Melinda butttttt it leaves me wondering:

Would you write a short one with Dark!Jaron and Dark!Melinda when she was bitten too? Does he give blood as well to her? If that is alright.

((Hello there dear, hope your doing well and I'm happy to hear you liked the drabble Blood oath. And to answer this, you might say that. I can write something regarding it so hold on a moment.

Dark!Jaron along with pure menace au belongs to @demon-blood-youths ))

"Well well well, this is rather new. Seems my little bloody lung dragon is misbehaving."

Dark jaron looks silent with sitting on the bed but he sees a tied up dark Melinda when she was not acting like herself. That or due to the nagu vampires that bit her. She really didn't like that but she was kept under watch by Dark Jaron to insure she wouldn't do anything stupid.

"You really are going to keep me tied up like this? Your so mean.." she hissed but struggles in her rope but he only sighed to look ahead then thinks of his answer.

"I'm not the one that was losing it after trying to rip some fuckers heads off. You really were violent when the smell of blood hit your nose. You know that don't you?" he sees her look quiet and yet she was still working on fixing that.

"You don't have to remind me, I know." she mutters to look away but she did feels dark jaron touch her cheek while seeing where the healed bite mark was on her shoulder. He still didn't like the fact that some filth bit her but she did seem to be holding on from craving blood.

"But..I wonder just how bad your craving has gotten..." He only sees her look to the side but he sees that he moves her chin to face him. She didn't say a thing only for him to sigh. "What? You angry I tied my little dragon up?"

"I'm not mad.....you seem like you don't even trust me..." she said but he only smiled finding her cute.

"I do trust you, Melinda. Don't forget that even if you got bitten I still trust you." He even pets her head to see her relax in his touch while feeling relaxed.

"However, it's not good for you to not eat...so we have to fix that."

"Fix it?" she said.

"Yes. Even if I know deep down you must be hungry right now right? Have you-"

"No...I have not. I haven't." she responded rather quickly but it tells Jaron she didn't have demon blood yet. If that's the case he slowly looks to her but he smiled.

"Well, then how about we feed you hmm?" he said to reach for her cheek but she only remains still for him to look at her but noticed her silver eyes were a light red. Damn it. She didn't like feeling this hungry but it made her close her hands into fists.

"You don't have to feed me. I'm fine. I don't need.." she tried to tell him that but that only got her silent when seeing him hold his knife up but slowly cut his hand a little. She tenses seeing the blood that appeared to look at him but he keeps her still.

"..You really don't have to.." she grumbles.

"You sure? Even when the faint smell of blood lingers...you know you can't fight it. Second, I don't want you drinking from another but me. I'll be sure to feed you well love." he saw her look at him but he even shows the blood in the palm of his hand. His blood was there but she only shook to feel her fangs.

"If you are hungry then go ahead..or would you want it somewhere else?" he asked to her but she felt him only look to her that she even shook.

"......."

"It's alright Melinda..you need to eat......" he sees her look down but she only sees him watch her as she leans in close to his hand to slowly lap up the blood. Right away she remains still like she did, savoring the taste of his blood that dark jaron smiled seeing her being good.

"See? That's it..I'll be sure to feed you from here on out. No one will change that." he said to see her still taking in more before she saw him move his hand hearing a whine but he only looks to her before she even sees him pull her close to pet her head. She shook only for him to cut the rope so she was free in a way.

Right away, she quickly hugs him and sinks her fangs into his shoulder to drink. He only grips the back of her shirt but he didn't mind. That really proves she belongs to him by blood.

[queenendless]

ARISE

A/n: As we are now in a new year, time to write on some new fandoms.

Rewatched S1 dubbed — and yes Aleks Le as Sung Jinwoo is the reason why cause he's so damn fine~! Listen to his voice as you read this, I insist! I just need to get my Sung Jinwoo fix. Therefore—

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x F!Adult!Reader

CW: Explicit 21+ MATURE content inside. SOME SPOILERS but not much. Morning smut, implied mentions of suicide, reader got reincarnated as a humanoid magic beast and serves Jinwoo now.

DON'T PLAGARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY FANFIC WORK. Rather reblog like and follow pls n thx.

"Wakey wakey." That teasing low purr in the crook of your neck had you giggling tiredly as the ticklish sensation pulled you out of slumber. Spooning you from behind, his legs entangled with yours, Jinwoo breathes in your scent, sucking tenderly. Taking his enormous hand that rested on your hip into yours, just to play with his fingers, made him smile.

“Don't go.” You murmur, raising that hand to brush petal soft pecks to his knuckles.

"Come on, now. I gotta get ready." His slurred gruffness were telltale signs he was in no hurry.

"The world is your kingdom now, Jinwoo. It'll still be there tomorrow." Your reassurance meant you curled further into your side of the bed, the tendrils of slumber creeping back in. His deep chuckle trailed butterfly pecks from your cheek, down the pane of your neck, then up to your ear. "Stay here with me, please."

"Even the Shadow Monarch needs to lead his guild." His words were one thing. His wandering hands were another story. "But, if you rather keep me in bed all day, I suppose you could persuade me." His very presence chased away the bitter freezing loneliness you were accustomed to, submerging you in his comfortable burning embrace.

"God, you're something else." You turned in his grasp, finally able to face him and shower him with your smooches, such smitteness brought warmth blooming within him. Not to mention his bulge rubbing against your crotch sent sparks shooting through you both.

Flashes of memories surfaced in your mind. Such a whiplash it is that the most powerful hunter in this world that you personally witness slaughtering every beast and human that dares stand in his way, soaked in their blood, could be the very same man that held such requited smoldering endearment for you.

The butterflies and flips occurring inside from every gaze, touch and word given are always worth it.

"God has been long gone from this world ... just Rulers and Monarchs now ... and yours is beside himself. To think his favorite beast on the streets ... is a lamb in the sheets~" That rumbling deep voice roughly heaved in between kisses. Opening your mouth so willingly had him grinning against you as his velvety tongue entangled yours, lost in the thralls of the passionate dance within. “My favorite~”

His sculpted hands slithered underneath your top, lightly brushing up against your sides, then your tummy. One hand stayed to fondle your cushiony mounds; he never gets tired of feeling you up.

"A human from another world ... reborn as a humanoid magic beast." Pinching, pulling and rubbing your pearls between his long sly fingers had you melting as your muffled mewling grew frequent. “Failed by those closest to you, abandoned to that pain and fear … a kindred soul.”

His other sly hand slips under your undies, cupping your dripping sex. Your moaning had him smirking as he nibbled your bottom lip in tune with his thumb insistently rubbing your clit and the tips of his fingers brushing around your cunt. "Isn't this what you wanted? To be touched by me? Your beloved King?"

"Mmm yes~" His voice always got you going, especially when those four fingers filled you up well, curling and scissoring in their trek straight to your burning core. "Aaah~" Your hips rutting into his hand got him bricked up through his sweatpants. "Nngh~" Wringing your hands through those dark messy locks and stroking along his shaved undercut got him trembling, all to reel him in and keep you as grounded as you could currently be in your haze filled state. "Don't stop~"

"So touch starved." Your sharp gasp was the sign he reached your bundle of nerves, prodding it with such vigor, stuffing you right up to his wrist, lathered up in your cream. “To let me be the first and only one to shower you with such devotion ... I'll forever be grateful for that blessing." Tears of ecstasy leave your e/c eyes and he kisses them away, his ebony bangs tickling your moaning burning face, the flames of passion stoked for you as you come undone. "My Queen~"

His creamy hand then pulled right out of your valley, leaving you desperately wanting him to fill up your emptiness. Your faith got restored, however, as he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, revealing the chiseled marble sculpture that is his physique.

He knows the sight alone makes your mouth water. Your hands traversed the panes of his soft firm pecs, that thick neck, those broad shoulders, even these sculpted biceps that flexed as his daily tasked push ups came with the added benefit of pushing down to your laying form, being enthralled by your rewarding kisses. Such reliable stability beneath that lean stature of resilience.

Your own eyes burned with the glow of enchantment, the image of who he used to be versus who he has become reminded you of yourself. How the physical and mental scars that plagued your old life for years on end shaped you into who you have become. A magic beast serving the Shadow Monarch. What a pairing.

His cream coated hand slips under his own waistband, pulling his beast free from its confines, using your cum as his lube to be more prepared.

His other hand cupped under your knee, draping your leg over his shoulder. "Wouldn't you rather I give you tongue~?" That low toned growl already got your other leg willingly draped over his other broad shoulder already as that mouth sunk into your wet folds.

“Yes love~!” Ripping such a concupiscent symphony outta your mouth. His other hand couldn't help but jack off to your venereal cries. The scorching presence his mouth gave as the starvation had him ravaging, suckling as much as making out with your now squirting folds.

His cheeks filled with your essence, dexterously aiming his tongue to drive you further up the tower of sins. Your spasming hips only buried his face deeper in, inhaling your scent as his nose got pushed in your pubes, his light yet sturdy weight. Those lidded silver eyes flashed violet as their predatory gaze marveled in your sweaty flushed expressions due to his ravenous gorging, your voice shrieking as you unloaded, his creamy covered lips curling swallowing gratefully.

“You're truly decadent.”

Your body and soul trembled in anticipation for what's to come; your legs falling off his shoulders to hug his firm hips. So did him, leading his dick slowly into your loosened yet smothering grip. "Let me make love to you." He grunted, you sucking him up as greedily as his cock started into the slow steady rhythm stroking your creamy grip.

“Fuck me! Please~! Don't stop~! Don't ever stop!” Your unhinged shouts of passion hit his ear as you hugged his neck, his own hot breath hitting your shoulder as he picked up the lace into the feverish fueled tapping; skin squelching and smacking noises bouncing off the walls.

“Fuck~! You’re heaven incarnate~!” Your sob filled yell riled up his necessity to bust his nuts in you even more. His feral groans in response had you squeezing him in a vice state, marking the side of his neck into a bruising suck, drawing scratches along his chiseled shoulder blades.

His own fingers dug into your rolling hips, finger shaped bruises painting your skin in kind, while his sharp teeth marked along your shoulder and neck, marking you as his and his alone, raising you further to the apex.

“I’ll fuck you until the world ends. This needy pussy deserves to be ravaged every waking moment. Every inch of you is mine to worship. Your beautiful womb filled up with my seed. That's my dream. To have you as my wife. To raise a family together. To make you Mrs. Sung!”

“Yes, Jin~! Yes~!” Your choked up agreement got lost in the sloppy, tongue filled kisses as you came a third in a row, making a cum circle around his shaft, painting his rippling thighs and the once pure sheets.

Your orgasmic greeting met with his, shooting right into your womb quite thickly, lifting you in his shredded grasp, externally and internally. Thrusting his still oozing libido into your heavenly valley like a madman to chase that euphoric high.

Your head limply rested on his shoulder like a pillow, fatigued mewls spilling out as the burning weight of his essence settled into your abdomen. Carefully setting you down on the bed, Jinwoo collapsed on his side, heaving slowly and deeply, his dazed eyes gazing at yours, glowing radiantly as the sunlight slipping in outlined your form.

Still submerged in you, now limp dicked, his muscular arm draped over you, pulling you both closer, all to have you curling into his slickened torso, breathing in your intermingled scent.

“Now call in sick.” Your weak request got him chuckling deeply.

“I will in a bit.” Curling your cascading hair through his fingertips, he caressed your pretty head, allowing the tranquil silence to linger.

“I love you, Y/n. So damn much. Thank you for being in my life, in this moment, and for the rest of our reign to come.” His whole being enveloped you in his bear hug of an embrace, drawing in your shared taste through an endearing kiss.

“I love you too, Jin. So damn much.” Your voice fluttered from the swelling of emotion taking hold on your heart, as you couldn't help but fall into the routine of peppering smooches all over that beautifully precious face of his.

“I'll love you. In this life and the next. Until the end of it all.” He vowed to you as you succumbed to sleep once again, smiling softly at your face, kissing your sweet lips once more before reaching out behind him for his phone, sending a quick text to Yoo Jinho about his impromptu work absence. His brother in arms was A-okay about, already suspecting fooling around with you being the reason why.

Jinwoo's next text was him dubbing Jinho as his best man at your upcoming wedding, already looking forward to seeing you on that sacred day, followed up by quite the steamy honeymoon.

He was already anticipating your future together, basking in the early morning, setting his phone aside as it filled with the following texts of congrats and excitement from his little bro, before joining you in the confines of dreams, cocooned in your shared comfy warmth, watched on by his shadow army in the corner, silently cheering for their master’s engagement with their future Queen Regnant.

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: WHO ARE YOU GONNA DATE NEXT? ᯓ★

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

I. II. III.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images below. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you, go ahead and read both!

Get your own super detailed, in-depth personalized paid reading from me HERE!!😊🦋

For personalized 18+ readings, click here!

My KO-FI link: HERE🫶🏻

MY MASTERLIST🫶🏻

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

⋆✴︎˚⋆ Pile I

OH- OHHHHHHHHH (I HAD to do this🤓) The moment I flipped these cards, I had to take a deep breath because WOW this spread is screaming romance, romance, ROMANCEThe energy here? Soft, dreamy, emotionally available, and actually willing to communicate their feelings like a functioning adult. (Shocking, I know.) This is the kind of person who has main character energy, but not in an obnoxious "look at me" way, more like a "low-key mysterious but actually an absolute sweetheart who accidentally makes people fall in love with them" type. They are also giving ‘hopeless romantic with a heart of gold’ vibes, but also kinda shy and dorky at times.

They’re deeply in touch with their emotions, thanks to all this Cups energy, which means they feel things deeply. We’re talking someone who sends you “thinking of you” texts just because, who remembers tiny details about you that even you forgot, and who probably makes killer playlists based on your mood. (OML😭) They might even be the type to write poetry or play an instrument. (If this person owns a guitar and has ever strummed it while looking out of a window dramatically, I will scream.) They’re also super romantic. They believe in love. Like, BELIEVE believe. They’re not out here for some casual nonsense; they’re here for the feels. If they’ve been hurt before, they’re still hopeful and open to love instead of being bitter. (We love emotional maturity.) Physically i am seeing doe-eyed, soft-smiling, artistic cutie vibes. BABE. BABE. This relationship is so soft, so wholesome, so emotionally fulfilling, if yall are people who had a relationship where you felt like you didn't even exist to the person then this NEXT relationship is totally different. You know how in movies there’s always that one couple who makes everyone else sick with how adorable they are? Yeah, that’s y’all (i’m really NOT jealous) . They’re also a partner in every sense of the word meaning they work with you, not against you. . If you’re struggling, they’re there to support you. If they’re struggling, you’ll actually know about it because they communicate. (A rare species, truly.) They’re most prolly a Water sign/ has strong water placements or just very emotionally intuitive. If you have someone with these placements around you, then this is your sign.  3 out of 4 cards are cups so i believe Y’all might bond over something artistic, music, painting, poetry, photography, film, something that requires emotions to create.They fall fast and hard, so if you’re used to people who are distant or confusing, this is gonna feel like a whole new world. This is the kind of love that feels like a warm hug after a long day, safe, sweet, and real. 

this person is a walking green flag. Soft but passionate. Romantic but stable. Playful but serious about love. This is the kind of relationship that feels safe and exhilarating at the same time, like home, but with butterflies. If you’ve been manifesting someone emotionally available, thoughtful, and ready to go all in for you…well, here they come. Oh, and one last thing, the fact that three out of four cards are Cups? That’s no accident. This person is MEANT to stir up your emotions and bring you into a deeper love experience. It’s not just about dating; it’s about feeling something real again.

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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆✴︎˚⋆Pile II

First off, this person? Chaotic. But like, in the best way possible. The Fool and Page of Cups together are giving ✨ golden retriever energy ✨ with just a sprinkle of emotionally confused poet vibes. They’re the type to send you ten unhinged tiktok totally out of the blue with no explanation, and then disappear for three hours because they had an unexpected emotional breakdown. I had a friend like that who used to do this, and trust me these kind of people are strangely ADORABLE. They’re playful, optimistic, and have this lowkey naive, wide-eyed way of looking at life, but don’t be fooled, Strength is here, meaning they know how to handle their emotions. They just choose to exist in this dreamy, slightly reckless way.  I’m getting someone with a youthful look, no matter their actual age. Soft features, expressive eyes that basically scream “I have deep thoughts but I get distracted by cute dogs”, 

Okay, so, Page of Cups and 7 of Swords? Babe… this is giving situationship that could turn into a masterpiece or a disaster, depending on how you play it. There’s gonna be a lot of dreamy, flirty, almost cinematic moments where you’re both caught up in the fantasy of each other. But here’s the thing, with 7 of Swords meaning, there’s a hidden element to this person. Not necessarily in a bad way, but you might feel like they’re holding something back. Strength is telling me you might end up being the one keeping this relationship stable, because this person? Yeah, they’re fun, romantic, and spontaneous, but they need someone who grounds them. Otherwise, they’ll float off into whatever alternate reality they live in. You might find yourself teaching them how to actually deal with their feelings instead of turning everything into an inside joke or a quirky monologue.

This connection? It’s got potential. I was getting ‘JUST KISS ALREADY’ vibes from this spread so many times. But also, This person might have commitment issues at first, or they just don’t realize when they’ve caught feelings. This relationship will be fun, unexpected, and maybe a little messy at times. You’ll never be bored, but you might have to decide if you’re willing to wait for them to fully step up and be emotionally present. If you do? This could turn into one of those soulmate-tier love stories that start off as chaotic best friends and then evolve into something real. This person is gonna make you laugh so hard your stomach hurts, and you’re gonna make them feel like home. Just make sure they don’t get lost in the clouds before they realize what they have with you. 

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⋆✴︎˚⋆ Pile III

Picture someone who walks into a room and the air literally shifts, not in a dramatic, "I’m better than you" way, but in that "damn, why does this person feel like a wish come true?" kind of way. The Star as the headliner of this spread? BABY, this person is ethereal. 

They’ve been through their fair share of life lessons, some of them painful as hell, but instead of becoming bitter, they’ve transmuted all that pain into wisdom and grace. (Honestly, teach me your ways, mysterious heartthrob.) They’re a dreamer, but not the delusional kind. I have a strong feeling that pile 3 already know their person at the very least, they’re connected to your past in a really poetic way. The 6 of Cups is screaming, "This ain't no random fling, this is destiny, baby!" There’s a familiarity about them, like the feeling of revisiting your childhood home after years of being away. There’s also a chance that this person is deeply sentimental, they might keep old love letters, hoard little trinkets from meaningful moments, or be the type to remember the exact date you first texted them "lol" and took it as a sign from the universe. They’re romantic, but in a quiet, "let me show you, not just tell you" kinda way.

Physically? ELEGANT. LUXURIOUS. GOURGEOUS. 10/10. I also have the feeling that for some of you, this person might be quite rich as well. They could be successful or at least super stable and independent, but there’s something soft and sentimental about them like they love deeply but don’t fall easily. One thing i would say that they don't fall easily. 4 of the Pentacles is telling me that they guard their heart like a bank vault. Not in a "toxic, emotionally unavailable" way, but in a "I don’t just give my energy to anyone, I need to be sure" kinda way. They might be financially stable or working towards major success, so they protect what they’ve built. At first, they might be reserved, taking their sweet time to open up, but once they do? BABY, THEY’RE ALL IN. Slow-burning but SO rewarding. This is the kind of love that feels like déjà vu, like you were meant to find each other.  And the thing is, you’re worth the risk to them. Your connection makes them feel safe enough to let go of their tight grip on control. This isn’t a surface-level situationship, this is intentional, slow-burning, "I want to build something real with you" love.

(Also, be ready for someone who spoils you subtly, not in a flashy, Gucci gifts every day kinda way, but in "I remembered you liked that indie artist, so I got us front-row tickets" kinda way. 🥹) BUT one more thing, also think They’re going to be verrryyy slow to say ‘I love you’—but when they do? Oh, it means something. This is the kind of person who will show you they love you 100 different ways before they ever say it out loud.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog, it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[minhosimthings]

Epilogue || 18+

Synopsis: Sex had never felt so good, as it did now, with your new husband.

Pairings: husband!Jay × wife!reader

Warnings: smut minors Dni, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, p in v sex, penetration, degradation, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), rough sex, dom!Jay, sub!reader, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, cumming inside, JayYn forever I love these idiots

A/N: and we come to an end with the Lucifer series! Thank you for all the support on this series, I truly loved writing it and I hope you all like this tiny bonus 😙🎀

Series Masterlist

The first time Jay ever saw you was in fourth grade. He remembered that story like the back of his hand. The first thing he recalled was the fact that you were so short you couldn't reach the coat hangers, so he had to help you hang your too big coat up. That was the first kindle that ignited the flames of your friendship.

The second kindle was when you were introduced to him as 'your new neighbour Y/N'. Your parents had recently moved to the town and bring the social butterfly she was, Jay's mother promptly marched him over to your new house with a jar of homemade cookies. Jay remembered how you and him had devoured all of the cookies without a thought, only to get stomach aches and scoldings from both your mothers.

Jay had introduced Heeseung to you at the start of fifth grade, having trusted you enough to welcome you into his own group of friends, of which Heeseung was his best. Jay's entire world for most of his cringey teenage and depressing young adult years were you and Heeseung. And he had been thankful for that.

Until he found himself falling in love with you.

Falling desperately, hopelessly, painfully in love with you. If anyone had asked him about what he loved about you, he would have had a seven verse poem written already. As if that was enough for him to express everything he held within his the deepest crevices of his heart for you. He loved you on purpose, truly and fully, as heartbreak loved a woman and as misfortune loved a daughter.

But as love always went, Jay was hesitant. He was scared. What if you didn't feel the same way? It would have ruined your friendship and the deep bond between you two if Jay ever told you what he truly felt, about the way his stomach would erupt in butterflies whenever you'd fix his hair and the way you made him weak in the knees everytime you laughed at one of his dad jokes.

Then came Seattle.

Jay's father has received a promotion and they were to move to The States. A new chance at at life, as his mother had enthusiastically put it. But there was no enthusiasm or happiness in it for Jay. Sure, he would be moving somewhere new, somewhere where dreams were supposed to be fulfilled, but what about his life until then? What about Heeseung and you? What about the life he wanted to have with you for the rest of eternity?

So came the waterworks. The final look of anguish on your face at the airport remained etched into Jay's memory forever, even from the distance he could clearly see the tear stains on your face, and Heeseung's arms pulling you into a hug with a final nod to Jay. It tore his heart apart, but he promised himself that he'll dig his way back to you if it was the last thing he'd do.

That is, until he moved back to Seoul, and found himself face to face with you and Heeseung. With matching rings on your fingers and a lovesick smile on your face. Or atleast that was how he imagined it. He didn't even take the time to glance at your longing expression, heavily disguised under the cheerful grin on your face.

You did love Heeseung, yes, but what good was that love when the man you've wanted since eight grade was right in front of you? Sitting in the same elegant position, holding his glass of gin in the same peculiar way that had always made you laugh, what good was any love when it was not the love you wanted?

Or perhaps the love you lusted after, the dangerous kind of love. The adventurous kind of love. The love that made your eyes linger over him whenever you'd pay Heeseung a visit at the police station, only to find Jay looking at you with pity as he glanced towards the empty desk labelled with your ex husband's name next to him.

The love that made you want to absolutely devour him as he sat leaning back in his armchair, legs spread dangerously wife apart, that caused warmth to spread between your thighs and saliva to accumulate in your mouth.

Jay looked at you with eyes full of lust, like he was a tiger on a hunt and you were his lamb, dolled up in a white dress with a glittering diamond ring on your finger. You had practically fought him not to buy you something so expensive, but Jake and Sunghoon had shrugged their shoulders with an 'i told you so' look when you walked in with a look of defeat.

"Come 'ere." Jay mumbled, tapping his index finger on his thigh, his own ring shone spectacularly against the golden shade of his skin. You promptly walked over, dragging your dress along with you. It was a pretty dress, you had to admit, you didn't think Jake and Sunghoon would have been such experts in suggesting wedding dresses, but you were proven wrong.

"Pretty little doll..." Jay's arms promptly went to your waist, as you say yourself down on his thigh, forearms resting on his shoulder. His right hand, crawled up your back, to where the zipper of your dress lay stagnant. You pressed your body closer to his, your clothed pussy practically grinding against the course material of his trousers. Jay's soft, cherry pink lips, touched your neck agressively, leaving hues of red behind for everyone in town to know whose you were.

Jay's fingers fiddled with the zipper for a minute before he pulled it down completely, to reveal the white lace of your bra. It barely hid anything, your perked up nipples were clearly visible and your cleavage was a valley Jay wanted to dive into and make a home out of.

Jay's hands palmed your bare back as he ripped your dress off of you, eliciting a moan out of your mouth as you saw his muscles flex ever so slightly, thought the fabric of his silk shirt. Your fingers also went to the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning the first three before Jay perked his thigh up, the fabric now hitting your clothed cunt. You gasped at the sudden sensation.

"So impatient aren't you, love?" Jay connected his lips to yours in a short kiss, "Tell me what you want baby."

"You're allowing me that privilege?" You chuckled, trying hard not to stare down at his chiseled chest, "That's too kind of you Mr Park."

"Would you prefer if I was rougher, Mrs Park?" Jay wore a handsome smirk on his face, the hand which settled on your back, squeezed it ever so slightly, making you squirm. Jay's fingers danced up your legs, slowly making their way up your legs until he reached the waistband of your panties. His devilish smirk only grew in size as you lifted your hips just enough for him to slide the thin fabric down your milky thighs to expose your slick center.

"Needy little slut aren't you doll?" Jay whispered in your, sending shivers down your spine, "All wet for me, and I haven't even touched you."

"Maybe you're just that handsome." You responded with a cheeky smile. You started to slowly roll your hips into Jay's stomach, your soaked pussy rubbed harshly against his trousers. Jay could feel the spot on which you sat comfortably getting wetter by the second.

"Or maybe I'm just that pretty." You said again, adding fuel to the fire, "Well, a pretty girl like me shouldn't be with a man like you should she?"

As you went to pull away, he grabbed your arm gently, his grasp firm around your skin, before bringing you back down to his level and pressing his lips into your mouth, a searing hot kiss igniting you into a pile of flames, a mountain of ash at the feeling of his touch.

You kissed him back, eyes shutting tight like a stone door, your body leaning in to his as his tongue dragged across your own. That elicited a moan from the back of your throat, and without exactly meaning to, you felt yourself grinding against him.

"Pretty girl like you deserves to be fucked like the whore she is, doll." His fingernails drew marks over your skin, adding to your pleasure. The drag of your clit against his muscular thigh causes you to whimper, pressing yourself harder to his skin, as if trying to obliviate the mere atoms of space between the both of you. His large calloused hands guide your hips, moving you up and down his thigh.

Soon the throbbing in your cunt got stronger, your clit begging for more friction, something to relieve the pressure building up in your lower stomach. You give an experimental rock of your hips, freezing to wait for Jay's reaction. When he doesn't respond you do it again, setting a steady rhythm as you grind down on his lap.

The zipper on the front of his slacks rubs perfectly against your sensitive clit, the pleasure increasing with every roll of your hips, head burying further into the crook of Jay's neck, his masculine scent filling your nose. Your pussy is dripping now, your empty hole flutters and pulses as you continue grinding in Jay's lap, too lost in pleasure to register the tiny whimpers leaving your mouth.

Speeding up your movement, hips pressing down harder into his, a breathy moan of his name falls from your lips as you're about to reach your peak. Just as you feel yourself tumbling over the edge, two strong, cold hands firmly grab your hips, halting your movement completely.

You whine desperately at the loss of your orgasm, hips frantically chasing more of that delicious friction that would have your cunt gushing, but it's useless. Jay's vice-like grip prevents any of your movements, cold fingers bruising as they dig into the soft flesh of your hips.

"Not so soon, sweetheart." Jay smirked at your shocked expression, you looked adorable to him with widened eyes and an agape mouth, "My spoilt little princess."

"Jay please..." You whine out of annoyance, but his grip stayed strong on your body, practically leaving scars there from how strong it was.

"Poor baby, begging for me." Jay snickered, sending shivers down your spine, "Tell me what you want darling—tongue, fingers or cock?" One of his hands went down to your thigh, giving it a light squeeze, eliciting a moan out of you.

"T-Tongue." You spluttered out, as Jay kept groping your thigh. He snickered once more, his ego grew in size as he watched you sink into an abyss at his mere touch.

"Good girl." Jay simply replied, before tightly securing his hands round your hips. He lifted you up with ease, and places your feet on the ground, before getting up himself and picking you up again. One of his hands wound round your waist and one of them went to your ass, squeezing it mischievously. He meticulously carried you to the bed, which by the look of it, had new silken sheets, just waiting to be ruined.

The feeling of the soft fabric seduced you as you allowed your body to relax into the mattress. Your eyes flickered over to Jay, whose figure could be seen outlined by the faint golden light of the lamp placed on the bedside table. The carved muscles of his back enamoured you into a trance as you stared at your new husband take off his shirt. His hands went to his newly bought leather belt and he took it off in one swipe, loosening up his trousers which soon came off to reveal his hardened cock. Your mouth filled to the brim with saliva as you stared at it.

"It's not good to stare, sweetheart." Jay chuckled, turning to you, his gaze set fire to your skin, "Now—" his mouth morphs into a lopturned smirk, "—you said tongue didn't you?"

The only response he got was a weak whimper when his hands roamed over your thighs, spreading your legs apart. You gasped softly at the feeling of his breath hitting your skin.

Jay peeled open your pussy, revealing your glistening slit to his hungry eyes. He watched the way your arousal pooled at the tight hole of your cunt, the way your clit hardened at the feeling of the cold air. Your hands snaked down to his head, and you dragged your fingers through his hair, his name falling from your tongue like a melody.

"Jay—stop teasing." You whined, not having the patience anymore to wait for his heaven-trained tongue to get stuck inside your pussy.

His eyes find yours again, and he kept them there as he traced his lips north. He nosed the juncture of your cunt and inner thigh, running a tongue along your mound. You gasped and eyes narrowed, watching him with rapt attention. He pressed a kiss to the top of your slit and his hands come up to open you to him, pulling the lips apart and tonguing the collected moisture there. Your head fell back as your elbows gave way, falling flat against the blanket. 

"god, just like that," you groan as he brushes against your g-spot and circles his tongue around your clit.

Jay's tongue swirls in lazy circles against your clit, hands gripping your trembling thighs to anchor you to him. His mind is hazy with desire, lost in the taste and scent of you, the feel of your body under his touch. He can't get enough of you, craving more and more until he's completely satisfied, which he knows will take hours at the very least.

All you can hear are the brazen sounds of his slurps and sucking along with his ragged breathing and you scream and whine as your hands reach out weakly to push his shoulders away, the pleasure running through your nerves, strangling your throat in the process.

“Ahh-! Jay- wait..!” He doesn't listen to your pleads to get him to stop, the pleasure almost unbearably good. How could he stop? His sweet tooth craves for his sweetheart’s sloppy cunt almost all the time.

He’s enjoying every second of it, listening to how noisy you’re getting, the screeches and moans escaping your lips, barely managing to form words to escape those pretty lips he loves to shove his cock into.

Your moans were getting higher and higher as your back arched to feed more of yourself to him, desperately craving the feel of his touch, of his nose, of his beard against your thighs, of the lips he so devoutly was using to suck on your most sensitive spot.

As his tongue continues exploring your clit with need, you push against his shoulders but fail, his strong grip keeping you locked in position.

Nonetheless you keep trying, far too overstimulated for your own good. You try to get his hands to release their firm grip of holding your thighs up, but you fail again, then try pushing his head away, yet you fail again, your attempts futile.

"Fuck—oh Jay!” You wailed a wanton amount, enough for the whole neighbourhood to shake due to the sheer pleasure you’re feeling. The white pain mixing with adrenaline sends you right to the edge of teetering release.

“Can’t you please just— Ah! fuck me already!” There it was, the only permission he ever needed.

Jay was quick to pull his skilled tongue out and move his hands from your thighs to your hips, getting himself steady on top of you. The sudden movement caught you off guard, even more so, when his lips landed on yours. You tasted the faint bits of yourself on them and you relished it all, arching yourself further into him. He was your husband now, and you made sure that you took full advantage of that.

"So fucking pretty." Jay whispered after pulling away. One of his hands cupped your cheek while the other remained on your hip. Jay was quick to withdraw his hand and trace it back to your hip.

“You ready?” he asked, licking his lips before pulling his cock out, already covered in pre-cum. He looked so beautiful above you, his hips so close to yours, his hair falling into his face and his chest raising as fast as yours. You looked a mess, but you were his mess and he wanted to devour you.

He was tender with you, his fingertips light across the length of your body as he felt you, his touch delicate- as though you were a statue that could break at any moment. He was going to take his time with you. He was going to devote himself to the religion that was your weeping cunt.

Yet, in a play of duality, the moans, the lewd moans that crawled up your throat were filthy, even filthier than the sound of how wet, how unbelievably drenched you were as he plunged into you over and over, as he literally used you as a fucktoy, filling you up more and more, until he was finally sat inside you to the very hilt, until his pubic hairs were grazing your skin and the tip of his cock was touching your cervix.

"Fucked out already, love?" Jay snickered at you, he knew his words always made you weak.

You managed a weak glare, but it melted into a moan as he pushed into you. The stretch was intense, making you claw at his shoulders for support. He kissed your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of fire as he pulled out slowly before thrusting back in deeply. You moaned at the sensation, your body arching to meet his every movement.

You opened your eyes slowly, your vision filled with the sight of him. His beautiful, sweat-covered face was close to yours, the grey in his eyes adding to his rugged appeal. His aura burned with an intensity that made your heart race.

His pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with a ferocity that left you breathless. The room was filled with the sounds of your combined moans, the slap of skin against skin, and the wet, obscene noises of your coupling. His free hand roamed over your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in its wake.

“Jay– more,” His eye flits up to your face, asking for silent reassurance that that is indeed what you want. “For god's sake Jay, move faster please I–” Not needing to be told twice, Jay picks up speed. Where his thrusts were slow and sensual, now they are fast and hard. He fucks you like a man starved, as if he was told this is the last woman he will ever lay with. Which in his case, was true, since you were married after all. 

It all feels so, so good. Your mind is a hazy mess with only thoughts of him and his fat fucking dick. Every time his tip meets that spongy spot inside of you, you feel like you're seeing stars as drool runs down your chin. When was the last time you ever got your guts rearranged like this? In fact, when was the last time you even felt the touch of a man? Heeseung surely had done it, but it was surely never as pleasurable as this.

Those questions were swept away in the flurry of pleasure brought by Jay's cock sliding in and out of your pussy with a wet squelch, your body rocking back and forth with the force. He relished the sight under him, your sweaty body splayed out so prettily for him as he brought you to new heights.

"Damn... You're so fucking tight—"He grinned as you responded with nothing but incoherent babbles, too dumbed down to even form a proper sentence. "—sucking in my cock like it never wants to let it go, honey..."

Jay brought one of his hands down to grab your breast, fondling the mound and squeezing before tweaking your nipple between the pads of his thumb and index. That action elicits a hiss out of him as he feels you clench down harder around him, making him let out a breathy chuckle

"Haah... You liked that, didn't you, doll?" His answer comes in the form of another pornographic moan, "...What if I gave you a child, huh? —Fuck—! You like the thought, love? Letting me fuck a baby into you?"

"Jay—ah shit!" You screamed, feeling your gummy cunt being attacked by his tip, "N-Need your cum—please!"

Jay would have been lying if he said the thought wasn't enticing, getting to raise a child with you that's his own. It was something he'd been dreaming of for the longest while. You weren't sure if you could have children, but Jay would at least attempt to make it happen. Even if it meant pumping you full of his cum till your belly bloats from the amount he's emptied into you. It drives him to go a bit faster, his cock reaching deep as your walls spasm around him.

You gasp out his name as your arms tighten around him. Hearing a chuckle, he did it again. "What happened baby?" He cooed, you could hear the smirk dripping from his voice. But you were too distracted making noises to complain.

“My dumb little girl, just love getting her needy cunt fucked hm? there sweetheart? yeah feels good doesn’t it?” He up his pace, even if you thought that was impossible. His cock continues to drill inside you with the tip expertly hitting your heavenly spot.

It doesn’t take long to feel the first flutterings of that eye-wateringly beautiful sensation between your legs. The force of his thrusts, and the friction against your clit cause you to see stars behind your eyes. With one last scream of his name, you cum around his cock. Your walls pulling him in, attempting to root him to you. Jay however, does not let up, chasing afer his own release. You quickly stammer, “I’m cumming! Fuck!”

“Cum for me. Right now give it to me, baby, come on” Jay pistons his hips with slower pace but deeper, sliding himself unbelievably full to your cunt, with a prominent bulge on your lower tummy.

Jay’s legs nearly gave out underneath him, hearing your sweet words. As your pussy contracted in wet bursts around him again, Jay released every drop of cum inside of his body, deep into your walls so that you could feel yourself becoming full and it beginning to drip out as it became too much.

Jay didn’t move and kept his cock inside you, letting himself and you calm down and try to catch your breath. As you regain your composure, your head against Jay's chest, your mind almost exploded with the overwhelming thoughts.

You definitely were not on the pill.

You and Jay winced in union as he slowly pulled out, careful not to waste any of his seed, which stayed buried deep within you. You could see the shine of the thin line of sweat on Jay's body as he slumped down on the mattress next to you. He looked ethereal, like a God in his own kingdom.

"You ok, love?" Jay murmured in his deep voice, which sounded tired.

"You're asking me that now, asshole?" You chuckled breathlessly, your chest riding and falling according to your hasty breaths, "I'm not on the pill by the way." You added, with uncertainty coating your tone.

You felt Jay's arms quickly wrap around you, pulling your head into his chest. He smiled down at you, pressing a saccharine-sweet kiss to your sweaty forehead. You winced at the feeling of your sore legs moving slightly on the bed.

"Good." Jay said, "I wasn't planning on having any protection anyway."

"Jay!" You gasped playfully, softly hitting his chest, "Don't say that!"

"Or what?" He smirked.

"Or I'll make you a dad." You managed a cheeky smile, feeling drops of sleep drip onto your eyes.

"Gladly, my love."

Taglist: @diorsyun @jaeyunluvr @hoondrop @mxxninthesky @alvojake @wondipity @blurryriki @lilyuwon @heeliopheelia @pshazez @heeslomll @seunghancore @shiningnono @deobitifull @luvitria @nyfwyeonjun @hwa-0403 @bubblegyu00 @sunpov @heeheeswifey @chartrucewhore @slut4hee @heesangs-blog @rikiwaify-blog @hirablackcat @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @kirinaa08 @heeshlove @seokseokjinkim @brownsugarbaybee @yzzyhee @anittamaxwynnn @kgneptun @penny44224 @ribbioniki @strxwbloody @immelissaaa @nshmrarki @yawnzzhoon @sousydive @yunhoswrldddd

[ahundredtimesover]

Something About You (05) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut (?)

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption, minor injuries (18+)

Word count: 22.1k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

A/N: This is a long one! If you're reading this, I hope you feel the flutter of butterflies and that warmth I felt while writing. ☺️ And definitely listen to  Beautiful Soul and Yes or No!

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

You turn to Jungkook with a questioning look, waiting to see if he’ll change his mind. He’s been the one driving whenever you have a trip and you offered to be the one to drive both of you to the airport this time but he refused. While you know he enjoys this, you thought it might be nice to let him rest even a little bit.

“You’ve had a long day.”

“So have you,” he answers. “And you know I don’t mind. You can just sleep during the drive and then again during the flight.”

You pout again because of his refusal to accept your offer but you let him and no longer argue. Perhaps it’s what he needs after the day he’s had.

It’s a Thursday and there’s a long weekend ahead, which is why this trip to Jeju was scheduled at this time. Taehyung leaves for New York in three weeks and Seokjin and Hayoung are getting married in two months. This is the perfect time to get the group together again before the three of them go through major life changes, and none of you would miss it for the world. 

You had a Board presentation that you couldn’t miss in the afternoon and Jungkook had classes until 3 PM, which then extended because of a parent meeting he had to attend. It’s why both of you had to book the later flight while everyone else flew in at noon. They sent a photo of all of them gathered by the pool at the rented house, and you couldn’t wait to finally clock out and switch off so you could relax and enjoy, too, even for just a few days.

Jungkook instructs you to buckle your seatbelt then heads off, undoubtedly tired but still alert and cautious while driving. You look at him and try to see if something’s different, if this really is the same man you’ve known for years. You look away at the reminder that yes, he is, and he’s not the one that’s changed. It’s probably you.

“Everything okay?” He asks as he glances at your direction.

“Yup,” you answer too quickly. “Just… you know, tired and excited.”

“Take a nap then,” he suggests. “Time will fly by and we’ll be at the airport and then in Jeju before you know it.”

“I’m fine. I can, uh, keep you company or something,” you shrug. “You kinda don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t mind it,” he says, the little dip on his cheek forming as he smiles.

Has he always looked this charming?

You shake your head as if to snap out of it. 

It’ll take an hour to get to Incheon. You feel like you’d miss out if you slept and you internally scold yourself because a month ago, you totally would’ve dozed off right away. 

Well, not this time. But even if it’s your own choice to stay up, you suppose that the universe was still playing with you because of all the times to be stuck with Jungkook, it just had to be now when your heart has been acting a little too weird.

It started right after the college reunion party almost two weeks ago. You had him sleep over at your place after some asshole busted his lip, and that’s when the thoughts of possible feelings started invading your mind. You blame Jimin, really, and you’d contemplated on keeping your distance from Jungkook to sort yourself out but that’s impossible given this trip.

It didn’t help that you promised his students you’d watch their final taekwondo match - which they won - so you spent last Saturday with him, too. 

Your heart still kept doing that thing, especially whenever you found your eyes locked on him even if he wasn’t even the one on the mat. You went out to dinner after that, and you couldn’t help but pay attention - to the way he cooked your samgyeopsal the way you wanted, to how he made sure you always had them on your plate, to how he held off the perilla leaf for you so you could peel it off. 

Suddenly, everything he did made you smile, like how he kept scolding himself for eating so much and then cutely asking if you were okay to wait in line with him at this pop-up dessert store. 

So many things also started to seem attractive to you, like the way he stood during the match with his hands in his pockets and the way he combed his hair with his fingers after he removed his baseball cap. Even the way he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while he drove became quite hypnotizing, just like right now, and you’re unsure where all these thoughts are coming from. Or if they’ll stop.

“So, how was your meeting with the Board?” He asks, disrupting your visions of him.

“Long,” you chuckle sarcastically. “The world’s in shambles and we have to be strategic in deciding which research projects to move forward with since funding is scarce. And you, how was your meeting with the parents?”

“Productive,” he hums. “I stepped out then met with their son. We were playing catch then I bought him ice cream then he opened up. I think we’re getting somewhere.”

Jungkook had mentioned one of his students has been displaying aggressive behaviors and wouldn’t talk to anyone apart from him. He realized early on in his teaching career the weight of his responsibility as an educator, and that just because he taught PE, it doesn’t mean he was limited to just sports or physical health. 

As it turned out, he’s very relatable to his students, and perhaps his laid-back and placid nature has a lot to do with that. It’s what prompted him to read more research and watch documentaries on adolescent mental health and how sports could help with managing it. 

You’ve been directing him to the appropriate resources and even linked him up with a professional who could speak to the faculty regarding child development so it’s a topic you’ve been talking about more. He tells you about their email exchange until he says that neither of you will be talking about work this weekend.

So you tell him about the sci-fi horror film you watched with Mo-eum last night and how you were both screaming at the same time then just ended up laughing at each other. Jungkook says she’s more of a scaredy-cat than you are but you express fear much more openly and you agree. 

“I heard we can set up an outdoor movie theater in the house,” he smirks at you. “We have a couple of options.”

“Jimin’s gonna push me away again if I scream in his ear,” you frown. 

“I won’t,” he says nonchalantly, and you have to pretend to yawn so you don’t have to keep looking at him without saying anything back. 

What’s that supposed to mean anyway? You try to recall if he’s also always been this bold and you’re just getting affected now, but it gives you a headache so you change the subject.

You end up talking about where you’re gonna be eating in Jeju and memories of your first trip there as a group a few  years ago. 

And so time flies. You’re parking at the airport carpark before you know it. You check in at the counter then enter the departure area. It’s when your stomach starts to grumble that you drag Jungkook around to find some snacks that you feel like having. You find a stall that sells various kinds of croquettes, kind of like the ones you had in Japan a few months ago.

You’re wiggling in excitement and so is he. Cheese was his favorite and though it’s not the same, you’re both happy that they at least look like it. 

You buy some drinks and find a spot and begin trying each type you got. He bites one then feeds it to you; you bite one then feed it to him, too. It feels natural, as this is something both of you have definitely done before and you never minded. But now, you have to force your brain to stop overthinking things just so you don’t start acting weird because of it. 

It’s when you’ve both decided your favorite flavors that your phone starts to ring. You pick up the video call and see your friends on the screen, showing you the barbecue and dinner set up in the property’s outdoor space. Mo-eum’s voice goes through, saying that there’s a feast waiting for you and Jungkook when you arrive. Seeing the table now, your eyes widen at the quality and quantity of meat and vegetables laid out. 

“We’ve got ramen, lots of beer, so many snacks… Jungkook’s gonna go wild in here,” she adds. 

“I’m already drooling,” he tells her.

Your older friends greet and tell you to get there quick as the phone gets passed around. Finally, it reaches Jimin and Taehyung, who both surface from the pool and proceed to ask you and Jungkook where you are and what you’ve been doing. 

“Eating,” you answer with your mouth half-full. “I found this stall and they sell croquettes that remind me of the ones from the rest stop going to the ski resort. It’s so goo–”

“Yah,” Jungkook disrupts you with a nudge on your arm. 

You turn to your side to face him. “What?”

He takes a piece of napkin and wipes the sticky sauce that you didn’t realize has dripped on your hoodie. Your eyes follow his hand that tries to remove the stain, and just as you’re about to sweetly thank him, he flicks your nose to tease, catching you completely off guard. You shriek in surprise and smack his chest, which is your natural response to something like that. 

You glare at him but your facade breaks when he scrunches his nose in amusement. 

“Dude, wipe your mouth,” he scolds. “Do I have to wipe the crumbs off you, too?”

“What?” you ask, brushing them off with your fingers.

You take his phone and open the camera to assess your face. Once you’ve cleaned yourself, you snap a photo and return the device on the table.

“Did you just take a picture?” He groans. 

“Yup,” you flutter your eyelashes. 

Jungkook sees that it’s a silly face and decides to send it to your group chat of five to tease, though he doesn’t deny the giddiness he feels at the act. 

It’s something you’d totally do. He’s seen random photos of you in Jimin’s and Taehyung’s photo album and you always say that maybe one of their cute friends sees it and asks for your number or something, but you say none of that to him this time.

“Wow, the one time Kook sends a text, it’s a picture of ___,” Taehyung laughs, earning him a glare from the said man. 

But you don’t seem bothered. Jungkook’s unsure if you even heard it over Jimin’s giggling and the laughter in the background, but it’s enough for him to text his friend to shut up, earning him a chuckle this time.

You talk a bit with Hayoung and she reminds you of the instructions upon your arrival. It’s not long after when you drop the call and start heading towards the gate. 

You don’t wait too long but during that period, you start feeling the exhaustion from the day. You know you’re gonna need to sleep during the flight so you could have enough energy to keep up with your friends for the rest of the evening. You’re definitely gonna make sure to make the most out of this trip to celebrate your cousin and soon-to-be cousin-in-law and of course, to savor your time with Taehyung before he leaves again. 

You’ll do your best to not overthink this whole Jungkook thing for now and decide to just be natural about everything. You don’t want him thinking that something’s wrong if you start acting differently because you know yourself - if he asks, you’ll most likely say something and you’re unsure if you’re ready for what will happen after. 

The call for boarding is announced and you follow Jungkook’s lead to the plane. He sits on the window seat like last time, and you’re reminded of the Japan trip again and how he made sure you got to sleep properly during the flight. 

It’s a smaller aircraft this time and a shorter flight time so you won’t need to lie on his lap or anything. But the thought of being alone with him makes you a little nervous so you try to talk about something to make sure you balance out all the times that you’ll be lost in your thoughts of him.

“Those croquettes were good but the ones at that rest stop were still superior,” you sigh.

“Yeah. That was seriously one of the best things I’ve ever eaten,” he hums, reminiscing about that trip, which he tends to do a lot because of you.

“Do you ever just think about that trip, Kook?” You ask as you gaze out the window and watch the sky change colors. “Do you miss it and wish you were back?”

“I do,” he hums, downplaying it a little. If you only knew. “I miss the food, the snow, the long drives… There’re lots of great memories from that trip.”

“I miss those bits, too,” you smile. “You still have the whiskey I got you?”

“Yup, barely touched.”

“What! I thought you liked it!”

“Exactly,” he points out. “So I have to savor it. I can only get it from that town, and during the Christmas season, and the chances of me going there again are slim. Plus, you gave that to me and you’ve never given me anything. It’s like, a memento–”

“Of our friendship?” You say mindlessly. 

You internally smack yourself because though you could sometimes be a dense person like your friends say - and only because you’re used to expressing your feelings and attraction first, as you like to argue - you’re not that dumb. You’re worried that you just drew a hard line by saying the F word but then again, why is that such a concern to you?

You realize he hasn’t replied and it’s been a few seconds already so you slowly turn to him. He meets your eyes and says that it is, then gives you a soft smile before he looks out the window. 

Jungkook wouldn’t describe that exchange as him being friendzoned. As the optimist that he is, he’d like to think that your gift to him meant that much to you, too. 

You’re the one who offered to get it for him and insisted it was a gift. After years of being friends, that was the first time you’d ever given him anything, and whatever it means, there was a change somehow. That’s a bottle that always brings a smile to his face whenever he opens his liquor cabinet and sees it. He’ll definitely keep it there for as long as he can.

You return your gaze out the window and glance at him. You’re glad that the gift means that much to him. You have the snow globes on the shelf by your desk and whenever you see them, you’re reminded of the snow-covered towns and the warmth from that whole week. 

More recently, you think about the mornings where you watched Jungkook from the passenger seat as he navigated the icy roads. You think about your conversations and how he gave you a piggyback ride and then treated your sore muscles.

He has always been a good friend so you’re not wrong to describe that gift as a memento of your friendship. You know that what you share is something you deeply treasure, but you also wonder if it means the bond has strengthened then, or if somewhere along the way, it started to feel something more. 

The plane takes off and Jungkook turns to you, looking every bit comfortable and comfy with his oversized hoodie and beanie. He gestures towards his shoulder, offering it to you.

“You sleep,” you say softly, knowing how tired he is, too. 

“I will,” he yawns, sinking further down his seat and leaning on the window, his eyes slowly falling.

You nod, knowing that it’s the more natural thing to do. So you take your pillow to hug then lean on Jungkook’s shoulder, immediately finding a position that doesn’t strain your neck. 

But your arms are a bit too awkward being in each other’s way and you see him adjust his. He slightly lifts it and you take the hint, wrapping your arms around his arm instead like an added pillow. 

Now this feels natural, as you feel him settle himself more comfortably next to you and you do the same. You suppose that’s how it is with people you’ve known for years - you just adapt and accommodate each other. You manage the exhaustion and inconveniences and just figure out how to make things comfortable and fun. 

You know it’s always been like this with Jungkook and you think back to these past months and how it’s been easier, more enjoyable, and something you keep searching for. 

Maybe this is what it’s like to pay attention to your feelings. Because as you snuggle closer and he pulls you in, your hand brushes against his, and then the sudden urge to hold it fills you up inside.

You wake up from your hour-long nap feeling only a tiny bit better. You wish there was more time, but you’re also not sure if it’s because of the need for more sleep or something else.

Jungkook still looks tired, but he sits up and pats your head, then asks if you slept well. You nod as you take a deep breath and there’s a moment where you just look at each other, still in your own little world of comfort and peace.

He breaks it and curiously looks around, and you ask him what he’s looking for.

“Trying to see if there are angry passengers who might’ve been disturbed by the snoring from these seats,” he purses his lips.

It takes a few seconds for you to process what he means, and you smack his chest when you do.

“Hey, I didn’t say it was you. It could’ve been me,” he defends.

“Yeah, you do snore quite loudly,” you hum. “But apparently not much when you’re not comfortably in bed. Maybe I’m the same.”

“True. Well, no one’s giving us the death glare so I think we’re clear.”

You just laugh at him in response then get ready to deplane.

You get your bags from the carousel quite quickly and you immediately find your driver holding up a sign with your names. You get inside the car and once you start moving, you open your window to feel the wind blow on your face. It’s the last month of spring and it’s the kind of coolness that you think is perfect for this island life. It’s chilly but not too much. The sun is bearable and gives the right amount of warmth. 

Jungkook glances at you as you enjoy the evening breeze. You’ve both just arrived but it’s felt like a dream since he’s been with you, especially when you cuddled with him on the plane. It felt bittersweet that he was exhausted. He at least didn’t completely lose his mind from the giddiness, but he also wished he could’ve savored it more. 

Still, he’s not one to complain. He gave the opening but you’re the one who moved closer. He decides that maybe that’s how he’ll go about these four days.

You arrive at the house in less than half an hour and you could already hear all the noise that your friends are making. Hoseok is the one who opens the gate and excitedly greets you. 

You enter the property and are in awe with how it’s set up. There are two houses perpendicular to each other. There’s a pool on the left side and in the center of it all is an area with trees and hammocks, a small fire pit, the barbecue grill, and picnic tables. 

You try to take it all in in the midst of hugging all your friends and trying to tell them how your flight went. 

“We just… slept,” you answer as most of them gather around you. “Neither of us snored. I think.”

“There were no complaints so I think we were fine,” Jungkook adds. 

“So, how did you sleep?” Jimin whispers in your ear. “Was it your head on his lap, his head on your lap? Or did you just lean on his shoulder? Did he– ow, fuck!”

You glare at him as you let go of the tiny sliver of skin you just pinched.

“You’re a brat,” you groan.

“And you’re being sensitive,” he bites back. 

“Yah! Can we not have fights during this farewell and pre-wedding party, please?” Taehyung calls you and Jimin out as he walks closer.

“She pinched me! And I literally just asked her a question,” Jimin complains. 

“What was the question?” Taehyung seems curious now. 

“How they slept.”

Taehyung looks at you with wide, even more curious eyes. “Ooh, was it like this?”

He takes out his phone and shows you a picture of Jungkook with a peace sign on an airplane and then there’s… you. Sleeping on his lap. This was during the flight to Sapporo when you were so tired and sleepy. You didn’t realize there was a photo of this moment.

“Where’d you get this?” You ask.

“In the shared photo album of the trip, duh,” he answers. “Mo-eum took it and saved it there.”

“Why is it saved on your photo album?” 

“Because she sent it to me right after she took it. She thought it was cute,” Taehyung shrugs. “Don’t you remember seeing this?”

“I might’ve… But like, we had hundreds of pictures. I guess I just… swiped past it,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to remember if you’d seen it and what you felt that time. 

“Yeah, because you weren’t really paying attention back then,” Jimin points out. “So, answer the question.”

“I… leaned on his shoulder,” you finally say. “Just like how I do with both of you!”

“Sure, it’s totally the same,” Jimin says while rolling his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.

“Jiminie,” you whine. “Hug me.”

“You’re such a baby,” he groans, but proceeds to hug you because he always does, and he knows it’s what you need right now. “You can also hug Kook, you know?”

“No, I’m shy.”

“When were you ever shy with affection?”

“Never, that’s why I’m hugging you instead.”

“Are you… crushing on him?” He gasps. “Like, for real?”

“Shut up. This is all your fault. You put ideas in my head.”

“Hey,” he says, pulling away to look at you. He cups your face with his hands, urging you to meet his eyes. “I asked a question that time because of the conversation we were having. I floated an idea and if it got you thinking, great. But don’t be carried away by what I said, okay? It’s about what you feel.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been paying attention, like you said,” you pout. 

“And?”

“I snuggled close to him and it felt nice,” you say softly with your head bowed down, somehow shy about everything you’re revealing to your best friend.

“That’s good then,” Jimin smiles now as he tilts your chin to face him. “Maybe you’re still figuring things out or letting things progress over time or you’re making sure that it’s all genuine. And that’s fine. That’s… kinda what happens in non-whirlwind romances. Not that that’s bad but… you know what I mean.”

“I do,” you sigh. “But yeah. I don’t wanna act too differently because I don’t want him to ask me if anything’s wrong because I might blurt it all out.”

“Well, he’s gonna ask you either way with how you’re freaking out,” Jimin says, gesturing to the side when you look at him confused. “He was glancing at you looking worried. He might think something’s up.”

“Ugh. Why is he so attentive,” you whine. 

“Well, someone has to be when it comes to you.”

You make a face and before you can say anything more, Yoongi disrupts the conversation and tells you to bring your things inside and dress up because your dinner is almost ready.

“Thank you, uncle,” you hum, hugging him tightly.

You hear him groaning in response because it’s Yoongi and he’ll always make that reaction before hugging you back. 

“Go. The meat’s perfect when it’s just off the grill,” he says.

“Yes, uncle!” you yell before heading inside with your luggage.

But of course, Jungkook catches up to you and asks you if you’re okay.

“Yup. I just had to release my last remaining negative energy about this afternoon’s meeting to Jimin and now they’re all gone,” you lie. “I am going to just have fun these next few days and… go with the flow.”

“Sounds good,” Jungkook smiles. “So uh, they suggested getting our swimsuits on so we could go straight into the pool after. Otherwise we’d be too full to change.”

“Yeah, we should,” you hum. “Can I get in first?” You gesture towards the bathroom.

“Sure. I can dress up in the other bathroom. Want me to bring your bag up already?”

“Oh, okay. Let me just grab my stuff.”

You get your bathing suit and a cover up then get changed. You wash your face and tell yourself to just get it together and enjoy yourself while spending time with Jungkook and maybe that’ll make things clearer for you. 

You open the door and shriek in surprise, as right outside the door is Jungkook, checking something in the cupboards… in nothing but his black swim shorts. 

His taut arm is in view, and when he turns to face you with a questioning look, so are his toned chest and abs. You forget sometimes how built he is underneath all the oversized clothing and that this is literally the body you snuggled to earlier, just with clothes on.

And now that you have this little crush, everything about him is now magnified. Has he always been this… hot?

“I didn’t even scare you,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I was going to but I was worried you’ll fall back and hit your head on the floor.”

“Wow, thanks for looking after my wellbeing,” you say sarcastically. 

“Of course. That’s very important,” he smiles and pats your head, which again is a normal thing he does. But when he’s half naked doing it, you suppose you don’t blame your heartbeat for racing the way it’s doing now. 

You walk back outside together and you scurry towards the picnic table, forcing your spot between Hayoung and Seokjin. You decide right then that taking a break from looking at or being near Jungkook’s bare body is the better choice, at least during dinner. 

But that doesn’t mean you don’t glance at the pool area where he is because you do, and he just happens to be playing with the water guns with Jimin and Taehyung. You hear his child-like laughter, which is a contrast to the way his body flexes in response to the water. It’s already giving you a whiplash.

The conversation you’re currently having is at least entertaining, so you’re able to focus on this and not on the suddenly-so-handsome half-naked man not far away. 

Until, of course, Yoongi calls him over because dinner is ready, and Jungkook rushes towards where you are, quickly wipes himself dry, then takes the seat between Namjoon and Suhyeon that they offered. Right in front of you. Yoongi places a platter of grilled meat and vegetables on the table while Seokjin passes two bowls of rice. 

Jungkook’s hair is quite damp and there are beads of water sliding down his very visible chest and you find yourself being hypnotized by how he looks that you don’t hear him calling your name.

“Hmm?” You finally shift your gaze to his face.

“I was calling you,” he says. “What are you even looking at?”

“You took all the meat with fat,” you frown, lying like it’s second nature. 

You take some pieces from his plate and he laughs at your expression.

“What did you want?”

“I was gonna ask if you wanted beer,” he shrugs.

“Yes,” you smile. “And a bottle of soju, please.”

He nods and jogs towards the cooler then returns with exactly what you asked for. You get back to eating, feeling like you’re in heaven with how perfectly the meat is cooked. You sing your praises to Yoongi, who says his joy in life is making sure his friends are fed with good food all the time. 

There’s a lot of laughter and singing to accompany your meal. Mo-eum takes you around the property when you finish, saying how much prettier it is when the sun’s out. When you feel like you’ve digested enough, you head to the pool where the rest of your friends are hanging out.

“Obligatory rock-paper-scissors match underwater!” Taehyung yells. “Loser drinks a cup of my brother’s terrible concoction. Seriously, it sucks so don’t lose.”

It takes a while before it registers that he’s talking to you and Jungkook as the latecomers. Everyone has played and five already had the drink, so both of you make your way to the pool. 

You moan at the feel of the warm water and you’re glad you didn’t pass up on the night swim. With the soft music and your friends laughing about, it’s the kind of vibe that you’ve been needing, nevermind that you have to sit on the pool floor in front of Jungkook, play a game, then get smacked on the cheek every time you lose. One side is see-through, so your friends watch you from there.

You try your best to act naturally around him, so you bicker and whine like you normally do. It’s a best of seven and he’s up, 3 - 0, needing only one more win. But you score on the next game and in your excitement, you smack his face a little too hard. 

You're surprised with how forceful you were, so you surface from the water and he follows after you. Your hand is still on his cheek and you’re apologizing immediately, palming the spot and asking if he’s okay. Your friends are laughing hard and you giggle while also looking apologetic. 

“What did I do to you?” He wails, as he places his hand on top of yours. “I was hitting you so softly!”

“I know but I got excited!” You reason. “And your cheeks are so soft and so smackable.”

“Wow. Thanks,” he deadpans.

You laugh in response and say you’ll give up the point as punishment, making him the winner, but he insists that he can keep playing and you might even win. 

You mask your giddiness over him pulling you back with his fingers with a look of competitiveness and resume the game. You score the next one but he gets a point after you, and you concede immediately. He’s always been good at this game anyway.

He follows you out of the pool and you get the cup that Taehyung hands you. You smell it and gag, but you take the penalty and take a sip. You gag even more and Jungkook asks you how it is.

“Terrible,” you wince, making him smell the cup until he’s drinking it himself.

“Oh, that’s torture,” he says. “I can drink it for you.”

“But I lost.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs.

“I drink half and you drink the rest,” you offer, and he nods in agreement.

He follows through, earning you boos from your friends who say that you didn’t fully honor the punishment, including Jimin who’s smirking at you while doing so. 

You wave them off and say that you’re too tired to finish all that on your own and they let you off the hook.

“Okay, I’m eating something to get that taste off my mouth and my memory,” you groan as you walk down the stairs to go to the eating area.

You start looking around but then you hear Jungkook nearby, saying that there’s Samanco in the freezer. You follow him but stay outside because you’re dripping wet, whereas he seems to have wiped himself before coming down so he enters the house and grabs the red bean flavored fish ice cream. 

“Here,” he says, tearing it open then handing it to you.

“What about you?”

“There’s only one left. They said there wasn’t enough at the store. I don’t need to eat.”

“Have a bite at least,” you offer.

“Fine,” he says, letting you feed him as you push the ice cream towards his mouth.

You watch him as he takes a bite, then you meet his eyes without meaning to do so. He briefly holds your gaze and for a moment, you get lost in it, suddenly feeling this odd mix of shyness and tension that you’ve never felt before. It’s mostly because you’re rarely shy about how you feel but more than that, you’ve never felt this around any of your friends before, and Jungkook is one of them. So this is very… new.

He moves the ice cream away and you come back to your senses. You take a few bites then offer him another one then he lets you eat the rest until it’s all finished. You don’t even realize you both have just been standing there in one corner until you hear Mo-eum yelling your names, so you quickly get back to the group and explain that you just had ice cream.

You return to the water and just soak yourself. You stay with Mo-eum and Jimin on one end, while Jungkook is with Namjoon and Taehyung as they headbang to the music on the other. The rest of your friends are either wading their feet or sitting on the lounge chairs but it’s all good fun. 

Yoongi finally gets up to announce that it’s just past 12 AM and he’s gonna get some sleep, and you reminisce about that one trip you had where most of you were still swimming in the pool and it was 1 AM. 

“Yeah because you drank so much and passed out at 8, then woke up at 11 PM demanding us to swim with you,” Jungkook reminds you. “Then you fell asleep on the floatie.”

Everyone laughs at the memory but you scowl at him and act angry in the midst of stories being shared about that time. 

“Why are you so far from him?” Jimin whispers in your ear while gesturing towards Jungkook. 

“She’s probably still getting over their alone time earlier,” Mo-eum teases, earning her a surprised look from you because she rarely calls you out.

“Seriously, both of you,” you groan as quietly as you can. “I… I’m trying to balance it out. I’m gonna lose my mind if I’m constantly exposed to that… body.”

“So what, he just needs to put clothes on then you’ll act normally?” Jimin cocks an eyebrow.

“He just needs to… I don’t know,” you sigh. “This is on me. I’m feeling and thinking things that are weird and new. I just have to get my shit together.”

“But you spent so much time together recently and it might make him wonder why you’re not calling for him or something,” Mo-eum reasons, which is something you’d also thought about. 

“Yeah and if he asks, you’ll tell the truth but you might also say things prematurely,” Jimin adds.

“I actually considered to kind of distance myself from him,” you admit. “I wanted to know if I’ll miss him and stuff until I remembered we had this trip and I just had to suck it up.”

“Well, you might still miss him even while on this trip if you deliberately stay away. And then things might be even weirder,” Mo-eum says. “Don’t overthink, just feel.”

“And wouldn’t it say a lot if, without thinking too much, you actually look for him?” Jimin adds. “That’s probably a bigger tell.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll let my body do the figuring out, then.”

You disperse from your little huddle and submerge yourself in the water, as if symbolic of your decision to just let yourself be drowned in whatever you’re experiencing, in hopes that you come out of it more sure of what you really feel. 

Eventually though, you all call it a night, and they let you and Jungkook go first in washing up, given the long day you’ve had. 

You take the bathroom upstairs and quickly get cleaned. It’s after you’ve blow dried your hair and dressed up in pajamas that you feel the weight of today weigh you down, and you suddenly feel like you’ll pass out. 

You lie in bed while Mo-eum takes a shower. Jimin is back and says that Jungkook helped clean one of the platters because it was heavy. You want to see him before you sleep just to say good night but exhaustion overtakes you, and your eyes shut before you know it.

Jungkook sighs - partly out of tiredness and partly out of regret - that he didn’t get back to your room early enough to make sure you were okay for the night. He still would’ve helped Suhyeon and Gyu-rim in cleaning up but still, he could’ve worked faster so he could return to you sooner. 

He shouldn’t be wondering why it’s even a big deal for him, as he’s accepted that he wants to spend time with you as much as he can, especially during a trip like this where the vibe is exactly how he likes it. Even more, your good nights to each other have been quite sentimental to him. 

He remembers that camping trip where he taught you a trick to fall asleep faster. Then in Sapporo, you talked and slept in the same room one night. He also can’t forget when you shared the same bed. 

Outside of your trips, there’s the time you let him stay over, and many others after he’d dropped you off or you spent the whole day together only to separate in the evening. And so now being able to wish you good night this time makes him a little sad.

He’s back in the room that all five of you share - which is the entire second floor - and he finds you already asleep next to Mo-eum who’s on her phone. Jimin is on the other bed next to Taehyung who’s wincing in pain as he rotates his head.

“Kook, my neck hurts from headbanging earlier,” Taehyung pouts. “Can you give me a massage?”

Jungkook nods, as this is one of his roles in the group given his background, then proceeds to knead and stretch his friend’s sore areas. Taehyung moans and asks for an extension.

“Yah, do I look like a massage therapist to you?” Jungkook frowns.

“You could be. That was good,” Taehyung sleepily smiles. “Anyway, thanks. I’m gonna sleep now.”

Jungkook decides to take the floor mattress because he prefers its firmness, so Jimin stays in place and eventually falls asleep. The light from Mo-eum’s phone disappears and she mumbles her good night, leaving him as the only one still awake.

He’s exhausted but his mind won’t let him sleep just yet, even as he tries the tricks he’s taught you. He doesn’t force it and resorts to playing a mobile game under the covers instead. It’s about an hour later when he decides he’ll try falling asleep again and right when he pulls away the covers, he sees you sit up from the bed, rotating your neck and groaning.

He gives a thumbs up sign when you look his way to ask if you’re okay and you shake your head no. So he stands up, heads to you, then kneels down.

“You didn’t headbang with Tae, did you?” He chuckles.

With sleepy eyes and mussed hair, you shake your head again.

“I fell asleep in an odd position and strained my neck,” you mumble. “It hurts.”

He immediately tries to find the spot near the nape of your neck, asking where it hurts and you guide his hand until he finds it. He massages it thoroughly and he takes his time. He gauges from your reaction which areas he should focus on then instructs you to rotate your head in various directions. Your moans are low and even more pronounced given how quiet everything else is. 

“Is that alright?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you respond with a smile. “I feel so much better now. And I don’t want to tire you.”

“You can let me know if it still hurts in the morning.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Without thinking much, Jungkook tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering as he fights the urge to do more. 

“I thought I wasn’t gonna be able to say good night to you,” you whisper. “I fell asleep right away.”

“You did,” he chuckles. “I thought the same but then you woke up.”

“I get to say it then,” you smile once more. “Good night.”

Your face is just inches away from his that his heart beats extremely fast and he likes it, he likes the thrill and the calmness from the way you make him feel.

“Good night. I think I’ll be able to sleep now.”

He watches you lie back down and tuck yourself under the covers before he heads back to his mattress. A minute later, he falls asleep.

You wake up to the sound of steady breathing coming from the other bed, and you peek to see that Jimin and Taehyung are still in deep sleep. Mo-eum’s probably washed up, as the space next to you is empty, and you sit up to check how Jungkook is. 

He’s sitting on the mattress, clearly having just woken up, but he turns to you to greet you good morning and ask if your neck is still hurting.

“Not as much, but it’s still a bit sore,” you mumble.

“Just do what I told you. It’ll feel better soon.”

You nod and start rotating it like he said. You check your phone. It’s 10 AM and you’ll have to leave in an hour for lunch, so you head to the sink that, oddly enough is located right outside the bathroom, and start washing your face.

You’re brushing your teeth by the time Jungkook starts walking towards you and you signal for him to give you another massage. He chuckles and stands behind you.

“You might choke,” he warns, and you wave him off and gesture for him to start.

Like you expected, he hits the spot immediately. You get so lost in how good it is that you don’t notice that you’re drooling until he tells you, so you signal that you’ll rinse. He pulls your hair in a ponytail so you could spit and once you’re done, you stand back up and let him continue.

You moan under your breath. You see him with his head turned and realize it might be a bit awkward, so you tell him that you’re all good. You turn around to face him, noting then just how close you are and when you meet his eyes, there’s that urge again to boop his nose and trace his face. You let your eyes wander to his lips for a millisecond before pinching his cheeks so hard that he winces in pain. 

“You brat,” he growls, but it just causes you to laugh and run away from him. 

He washes up while you change in the bathroom then you head downstairs to wait for everyone else. The sun is shining brightly but the breeze is a little cool. You think it’s perfect for what you’ll be doing today and you jiggle in anticipation once you’re complete.

Jungkook and Taehyung take a separate car with Jimin and Gyu-rim because they’ll be retrieving their rented motorcycle and Vespa before heading to the restaurant. You yell out your concern and tell them to be careful before heading to the car with Mo-eum where Seokjin and Hayoung are. 

You arrive at the restaurant and eventually decide on getting some braised kimchi, hairtail fish, and a bunch of other dishes that get you excited. You’ve been looking forward to this after Jungkook said how good the food was since he’s the only one who’s eaten here before, and you truly can’t wait. 

The rest of your friends arrive shortly after all the food has been served. Your attention shifts to Jungkook, who sits towards the end of the table while you’re in the middle, and your eyes briefly meet before you indulge yourself. Hayoung and Suhyeon alternately fill your plate as they often do, and moans of satisfaction quickly fill the restaurant.

The view of the ocean is as perfect as the meal and you’re truly thankful that you get to share all this with your friends. The seat next to you frees up, and you make Taehyung take it so you could hug him, as it slowly sinks in that he’s gonna be leaving in a few weeks.

“We’ll be back to video calls and you scolding me when I’m not getting rest and worrying when I’m not well because you can’t just show up at my apartment to make sure I’m taking care of myself,” you sigh. 

“Nah, I won’t be too worried,” he smiles softly at you. “You’re in good hands.”

“Jimin and Mo-eum are worse than I am,” you point out.

“Kook isn’t.”

“Hmm,” is all you say, unsure if you want to openly talk about your feelings now, although you probably will before he leaves. 

“You’ll be fine, ___. Just follow your heart,” he whispers.

“Have you been talking to Jimin?” You cock your eyebrow, suspicious now if they’ve been discussing things behind your back.

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” he says. “You know me, I say random shit. Take it how you want.”

You groan at him for being another person who’s making you think. But he just laughs at you and leaves you to your own thoughts when Mo-eum calls him to go to the balcony because she needs some air.

The others have also gone outside except for Yoongi and Gyu-rim and you’re honestly too full to even stand up. Just then, Jungkook takes the seat next to you and asks if you’re indeed too full to even move because you usually like looking at the views. 

“I can’t breathe,” you frown at him. 

“Yeah, you looked like you enjoyed yourself,” he laughs.

“So did you. You ordered like, three cups of rice,” you say. “We’re still going to a cafe after this.”

“So? Coffee and dessert are separate things.”

“True,” you hum. “How’s the motorcycle by the way?”

“It’s good. It’s a similar model to what I have in Busan.”

He rides occasionally. He doesn’t have an extra parking slot in his apartment so he left the one he has at his parents’ house, which he drives around whenever he’s home. 

“So it’s safe and stuff?” You ask.

“Of course it is. Jimin even rode with me on the way back here.”

“Did he enjoy it?”

“Always. I’m a very safe rider,” he assures you. “Do you want to try?”

“I’m kinda scared. I’m not good with balancing and like, being steady,” you explain.

“But that’s my job. You literally just have to sit there and hold onto me and enjoy the wind and the scenery. Sounds good, right?” He tries to convince you.

It’s very tempting, you’d admit, especially since you’ve committed to just letting yourself feel everything and enjoying a ride with him is one other way to do that.

“I’ll think about it,” you shrug.

He tells you more about riding until Hayoung says you’ll leave in 10 minutes. So you attempt to stand up to at least get a better view of the ocean on this side. Jungkook is there, pulling you by the hand while laughing at you. Your fingers linger, and you quickly let go of him before he notices a hint of desire for his touch.

He goes with you outside and while earlier, both of you couldn’t stop talking, now, it’s just quiet. You suppose he’s basking in the sights and how peaceful everything is as well, and you just feel that calmness being next to him. 

And it’s… new. Not the feeling, but the fact that you could feel giddy and content right after. So you savor it a little more.

You all eventually leave and head to your next destination. It’s a nice ride to the cafe, too, and you sit on the backseat with your window rolled down, looking at the ocean.

Jungkook pulls up next to you in his ride and this is a look that gets your heart racing, too. He’s got his black helmet on and with his exposed tattooed arm, he looks pretty cool. 

Your chin settles on your arm that’s by the window and you watch him. He turns to you at the stoplight and pushes his shades up.

“Be careful,” you say from inside the car. 

He gives a thumbs up then extends his arm for a fist bump, which you give. It also makes you laugh. The light turns green and you’re off again. Mo-eum and Jimin laugh at you from the front but you wave them off and no longer threaten them with physical injury. 

You’re accepting it, you think. It’s like getting used to this feeling, letting it embrace you, the way you’re allowing yourself to embrace all of it. 

You head to a quaint cafe near the mountains. It has a homey vibe, not just because it literally is an extension of the owner’s house, but also because of the warm interiors, the shelves of old books and manuscripts, unfinished paintings… and two cats, which Jimin plays with and almost cuddles. 

You take up the entire space and it gives some of you a chance to speak to the owner, a former author whose wife is an artist. You mostly listen though, especially once he talks about how life in the country and this town was several decades ago. You opt for a cup of tea to help warm your still very full belly, but you do get a taste of Jungkook’s misugaru and pretty much almost everyone’s else’s drinks because that’s how you are.

Sitting next to Hayoung, you have a good view of Jungkook from the side, and you take notice of how he smiles at certain parts of the man’s tales and when he turns serious and contemplative when the man talks about his wife. 

The stories prompt you to ask your cousin how she’s feeling as she counts the days to the wedding. She sighs as if she’s still in disbelief that it’s so close. Or perhaps that she found a man like Seokjin who truly makes her feel like it’s possible to feel content and happy in this life.

“I’m marrying a man who makes me laugh, ___. A man who laughs at my jokes even if they’re not funny,” she smiles. “And I know it may sound so simple but I don’t really know what else could be better than this feeling, you know? He makes me feel good about myself. He enjoys things with me. He shows me how to be a good and happy person. And I get to spend the rest of my life with him.”

You think of your definition of simple and it used to make sense to you. You meet someone, instantly become attracted to them, find things about them you like that mirror what they like about you, be overwhelmed by the unrelenting yet unexplainable feeling towards them, then decide you want to be with them. 

Looking back, nothing about it was simple. Perhaps it was just all shallow. The intensity was surface level and never really got the chance to dig its roots.

With Hayoung, simplicity is in the consistency, you think. It’s in the everyday and every second together.

You spot Seokjin looking to where you are and upon realizing that she was admiring him from afar, he gives her a flying kiss, causing you to snort.

“He’s so ridiculous, it drives me crazy,” she laughs.

“You’re perfect for each other,” you smile as you hug her tightly. 

“It took a while for us to realize that but I guess that was the whole point,” she hums. “We’re as committed and as happy because it wasn’t too early nor too late.”

“So it’s really the timing huh?” You ask, recalling the conversations about relationships during that camping trip. 

“It is but it’s also a choice. You both decide you want to be the right person for each other,” she says. “Regardless of who confessed first, the other person could’ve chickened out but neither of us did. We knew enough about each other that we were willing to make that move.”

“Oh, to be mature like you,” you sigh. “I can’t relate.”

“You’re honest about your feelings, ___. Not everyone is that brave nor that true to themselves. That’s maturity in my book.”

You drive out and head to the port next. The rented yacht you enter is pure luxury, and this is one of the moments where you thank the universe that you ended up being friends with a rich pair of brothers, one of whom also happens to be your future cousin-in-law. 

The size is perfect for all 12 of you - not huge but cozy enough to not feel too separated from each other. There are so many areas to hang out in - the front, the back, the top, and inside. You’d forgotten what they were called and was just in perpetual shocked mode when you were being toured around. There’s lots to do, too, and you have all the time to entertain yourselves, as you’ve got this boat until past sunset. 

You all gather at the lounge area while waiting to get to the snorkeling spot. You play music, drink some mocktails, and dance around. Half an hour later, you’re told that you’ve arrived, so you all move to the other end of the yacht and jump in the water. 

It’s the right temperature for this afternoon. It’s cold but not freezing, and the feel of the ocean is every bit refreshing as you remember. 

Yoongi and Hoseok sit on the swim platform. You stay near the boat with Suhyeon and Gyu-rim - the most cautious of the bunch, while the rest dive and explore farther out. You watch them enjoy themselves, especially Jungkook, whose laughter you can pick out even from where you are.

He removes his mask and waves at you before disappearing under the water again, only for him to end up next to you.

You shriek in surprise when he does, and you smack his chest to call him out because you thought he was a shark or something.

“Seriously?” He laughs. 

“You never know,” you shrug.

“Well I’ve gone deeper and there’s none of that. Only more fish and prettier corals. Wanna see?”

You hesitate. You’re only a little bit terrified of the water; having siblings who watched Jaws all the time did that. While you know it’s safe, there’s something about the open water that’s insanely overwhelming for you because there’s so much you don’t know and much more you’ll never know. There’s a whole world down there that’s too terrifying for your human mind to comprehend and it makes you feel so small and insignificant. It’s like that cosmic horror shit that Jungkook was telling you about this one time. 

But you also know that the little bit of what humans do know is pretty amazing. And just like how you are with your horror films, you suppose the fear is part of the experience, too.

“Fine, I do wanna see,” you finally reply. “I’m just a little scared.”

“Alright then. We won’t swim too deep. I’ve got you,” he says, gesturing for you to get under.

You follow him and reflexively take his hand, allowing him to guide you towards the reef that you see isn’t far away. You know your basics in swimming so it’s not hard, but just the idea that there’s all this around and all over you is what gets to you. 

But with Jungkook right in front, holding you tightly, and constantly looking back to check how you’re doing, you suppose it’s not bad at all. And when you finally see what he wanted to show you, you understand that that initial fear, the immediate relief from the safety he provides, and then the beauty of what’s waiting for you is all part of the experience. 

When you’ve taken it all in, you begin swimming back to the surface and don’t let go of his hand. The light from the sun penetrates the ocean and it makes the scene before you even more captivating. You emerge from the water and breathe, then smile at him for keeping his word. 

“How was that?” He asks.

“Pretty,” you say. “Thank you, Kook.”

“Glad that didn’t disappoint,” he says. 

You waddle back to the yacht and you’re more independent this time. You meet with the rest of your friends and just float about, enjoying the sun and the feel of the water on you. 

One by one, you all head back up. Some stay by the steps, the others have begun fishing, and a few have started washing up. You announce that you’ll go back to the lounge area to get your phone and Jungkook follows because he wants to dry his shirt.

He removes it and grabs a towel that he wipes himself with. You glance at him as he dries his hair with it then wraps it around his waist, disturbing you with what you’re supposed to do. 

Of course, of all times that he has to be half naked again - and during the day - is when you’re both alone and you have nothing to distract you nor keep you from ogling him. 

Because now that you care, you actually pay more attention and realize that his type of ripped is exactly your type. 

You’ve generalized your guy friends and said they’re all handsome. You’ve said it mostly to Hoseok before he got a girlfriend and to Seokjin because, well, he makes everyone say so. You always told Taehyung that you found him cute, but perhaps the most honest you were was when Namjoon showed up in a green sweatshirt and glasses one time and you whispered “daddy,” not realizing the words didn’t  actually remain in your head. The teasing started right after that. 

You’ve often passed off Jungkook as having these charming, boy-next-door traits which wasn’t really your vibe. You were always too intense for that and the men you pursued tended to match your energy and so Jungkook, even physically, felt a bit tamed or reserved to you. 

But now, you can see that you were really just a silly girl. His abs aren’t too pronounced when he doesn’t flex them but even you can tell there are eight of them there. They also hold up a pair of perfectly toned pecs. His entire torso is smooth, including his back that’s divided by that deep line that lets you know just how hard he works on it. 

And his arms. They don’t seem much but he’s flexed them a few times since last night and you have to pretend you need water every time to mask that you’re actually really just thirsty for them. Maybe it’s the fact that one is covered in tattoos and the other isn’t. The contrast gives you a whiplash, even more when you realize that connected to the feet that you make fun of because of his toe socks are massive thighs that could—

“___?”

“Hmm?”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“My phone,” you stammer.

“You’re holding it,” Jungkook says, gesturing towards your hand that is indeed holding it. 

“Right, I got it,” you reply, turning around because suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. 

You were definitely ogling him last night but now, he’s half-naked with the sun out so you’re noticing everything, including his tiny waist and—

“I’m gonna go and watch them fi— ow, fuck!”

But of course, you hit your head on the side of the roof that has a sign that says “watch out” next to it. Not that you were paying attention anyway because you were, in fact, trying to get away from the man who’s been invading your thoughts in ways that are so unexpected for you.

You slowly fall on your butt and wince in pain. And who else would go to your rescue but him?

“___, it literally says there to watch out,” he chuckles as he crouches to face you. “You’re not even that tall.”

“Yah!” You smack his chest in reflex, only to feel the tingle from touching his bare skin. “It hurts.”

“Oh shit,” he says now, his face turning serious. “Is there a bump?”

You feel around the top of your head and discover something that definitely wasn’t there earlier. His hand hovers so you guide him to where you feel it.

“Yup, that’s a bump,” he sighs. “You’ve got to be careful.”

You only pout and whimper when he puts pressure on it. 

He grabs a can of soda from the cooler and places it on your head. He instructs you to keep it there while he looks for a cold compress, which he does, a few minutes later after going to the cockpit and asking for it.

He sits next to you on the ledge while he holds it in place because you say your arm is getting sore. But he turns towards you now, so you also pay even more attention to his face. 

His dark doe-eyes are filled with worry, and you realize they’re captivating like this just as much as when they’re painted with joy or admiration. His nose is even cuter this close, and you don’t know how to convince him that you’re sincere about your attachment to it, even more now. His eyelashes are so long and they flutter against his honeyed skin. And then his lips, they’re so pink and chapped that you just want to—

“___?” He calls your name again. 

“Hmm?” 

“Seriously, did being underwater and then hitting your head make you dizzy? Do you have a concussion that’s why you’re unresponsive?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not a concussion,” you say. “I’m just—”

You fake yawn to make an excuse. Only for you to actually feel sleepy right after. 

“I think I need a nap.”

“Okay,” he laughs. “Get dressed then you can lie on the sofa.”

You rid yourself of your wet clothes in the bathroom. From there, you hear Jungkook inform your friends that you hit your head and Jimin yells that you can’t lose your memory because you still owe him dinner. 

You get back on the lounge to cuss him out then say you’re okay but that you have a bump and now you’re sleepy.

“I hit my head there earlier,” Taehyung says.

“Why didn’t you warn people about it!” You exclaim.

He shrugs but Jimin pipes in. 

“He probably didn’t think that anyone would be dumber than him.”

“Yah!” You yell, threatening to flick his forehead. 

He runs away and heads back to the other side. Most of them follow, as Seokjin and Yoongi compete with each other on who can catch more fish. Suhyeon and Hoseok stay near the railing, leaving you and Jungkook semi-alone in the lounge. He at least has a shirt on this time.

You’re both sitting on the couch and you give in, grabbing a small pillow and placing it on his lap for you to rest your head on. It’s too late by the time you realize that there’s so much space elsewhere but you chose this. You chose to be this close, so you just let it go. You’d made yourself look stupid earlier already, might as well own this. 

But you do peek at him and see that he’s got his head leaned back, perhaps taking a nap, too. He feels you move and he turns to you, seemingly unbothered at your obvious lack of respect for his personal space.

“You okay?” He asks, placing the cold compress on your bump once more.

“Hmm,” you nod. 

“Go sleep.”

You turn to your side and savor the sight before you as you slowly drift away, the blue sky with threads of the clouds strung around making you feel at peace. Jungkook pulls your hair back so you’re more comfortable, reminding you of last night and how his fingers brushed your face. 

You smile to yourself. You’re definitely owning this feeling.

You wake up to light taps on your shoulder. Jungkook tells you that you’ll miss the sunset if you keep sleeping, so you sit up and look around. Your friends have returned to this side of the boat, with some of them sitting on the other couch while the others are by the railings, enjoying the last bits of light. You see a bowl of tteokbokki on the table in front of you, and your eyes widen, as you realize right then that you’re quite hungry. 

“Can you–”

“Want me to heat it?” Jungkook finishes his question first.

“Yes please,” you shyly smile, remembering that he knows you don’t like eating your food cold.

“Sure,” he says, then grabs the plate and heads inside.

“Did you sleep well?” Jimin appears out of nowhere. 

“Yeah,” you hum. “I feel better now.”

“Good,” he smiles. 

He walks to the lounge area with Mo-eum and they sit next to you.

“You missed out on the fun parts! Tae caught some fish,” Mo-eum excitedly says. “I told him it was probably genetic.”

You laugh. “Did any of you catch anything?” 

“Nope. But Gyu-rim did. You should’ve seen Yoongi’s face, he was so proud and he was blushing,” Jimin gushes. “Kook probably would’ve caught some if someone wasn’t sleeping on his lap,” he smirks at you. “He missed out on the fun thanks to you.”

“I–” you frown. “He told me to take a nap.”

“On his lap?” Mo-eum asks.

“No but like, it was there,” you sigh. “Okay, can I just say? I completely lost it earlier. I was staring. Like, I was literally ogling him. This isn’t normal.”

“___, chill. We’re all used to you already. You literally always hug Tae’s arms and say how they’re so big. And you always call him handsome. You also called me hot before,” Jimin reminds you.

“I totally would’ve dated you for your body alone,” you remark. “But I’m not the type to do that.”

“You dated Seungho because he was hot though,” Mo-eum points out.

“Shush, that was only 92% of the reason,” you correct her. 

“Back to my point,” Jimin nudges you to look at him. “You called Joon daddy one time, remember? You ogle, ___. We know that.”

“Wow, you make me sound like a perv,” you scowl.

“None of us literally care.”

“Fine. But I was all of a sudden speechless with Kook. Like, I always knew he had a nice body but I just never really bothered to look look. And now I have and he’s so hot and I’m–”

“Sorry it took a while, the microwave was being weird,” Jungkook returns to the lounge. “Got you soda, too.”

He places your meal in front of you then heads farther out the deck with the other guys.

“Shit, do you think he heard me?” You panic.  

“Doubt it. But if he did, so what? Not like you don’t compliment him about his looks,” Jimin shrugs.

“I tell him his nose is cute,” you deadpan. “That’s totally different from saying he’s hot.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jimin shakes his head. “You just have to get used to it. This is an island trip, ___. He’s gonna be half-naked for two more days.”

“I need saving,” you sigh, prompting your two friends to laugh at your dramatic antics. 

You eat your snack while they talk about what happened earlier. It’s a good distraction from your thoughts of Jungkook, even if they’re technically still there because it’s his back that you’re currently looking at. You laugh at yourself this time because you’re being silly. 

Sure, it’s a bit unfamiliar to suddenly be physically attracted to him, but even more because you’re unable to express it, which is unlike how you normally are with your friends. You’re usually very open and playful about it with them but with Jungkook, you’re quite cautious. You’re worried you’ll say too much or that he’ll even feel the heat from your entire body as your natural reaction. 

This is perhaps another indication of how you really feel. You’re more shy than usual, but as you look at him from where you’re seated, all you want is to bask in that shyness, too. It at least tells you that it’s not all shallow and superficial when it comes to him.

You stand from your seat and clean up. When you go back out, you see that all your friends are now on the deck, lounging on the chairs and the netted structure as the sun starts to set. Seokjin and Hayoung are being all couple-y. Yoongi and Gyu-rim are in their own world in the corner. Namjoon’s dancing to some song with his earpods on, and Jungkook and Jimin are going Titanic mode and laughing at each other.

You laugh, too, and it’s another feeling that’s new or perhaps, just more pronounced. You like seeing Jungkook be silly and enjoying himself. You like seeing him feel free. It’s something he experiences and all you can do is watch, and that makes you feel good.

Jungkook loses his breath from role playing and play-fighting with Jimin. It’s something they’ve always done as kids and they never really outgrew it. But his best friend surrenders after a while and Jungkook decides to have mercy on him. 

Instinctively, he turns towards the lounge to look for you, and he finds you there, sitting on one of the chairs, smiling at him. He’d spent pretty much the entire afternoon with you - swimming, snorkeling, icing your head, and serving as your pillow yet again for your afternoon nap. 

And he has nothing to complain about, especially because you held his hand while you were in the water, and you looked him in the eyes more times than he could count, and you snuggled close to him after he told you to sleep.

He gestures for you to come over and you do. You take your spot on the floor and he takes his next to you. You scoot closer and rest your head on his shoulder, just like always and he likes this. He likes how you seek him, knowingly or not, and that you find comfort in whatever he could give. 

He’s unsure of what it means on your end but he doesn’t want to assume nor impose; he decides he’ll hope only a little. He’ll savor whatever this is as part of the experience. He’s hoping it’s something you’re doing, too.

Everyone is quiet during the sunset, as you all bask in the changing of the sky’s colors and how majestic it looks from where you are. You eat dinner on the boat and find that a hearty meal of pasta, pizza, and steak in the middle of the ocean is the perfect cap to what you think is a perfect day, even with the head bumping and the spacing out. 

Hayoung and Seokjin say a few things, as it’s their pre-wedding trip, and you’re tearing up by the end of it. Taehyung gives a speech, too, and you all burst into laughter. It’s practice for the real deal during the wedding, he says, but you already know he’ll be crying then. 

You head back to the house after and make sure to remind Jungkook to be careful during his ride. You notice that he tries to stay next to your car and gives you a smile when he sees you look at him, as if in assurance that he’s okay. 

You spend the rest of the evening drinking indoors while playing games and singing karaoke. It’s later on in the night when you feel the pull of the cool breeze. 

Some of your friends have tucked themselves in bed already. Jimin and Mo-eum are dancing and singing like they’re at a club. Namjoon’s passed out, and Taehyung and Hoseok look like they’re having a heart-to-heart near the hammock. Jungkook’s gone to take a shower so you head out to the pool, dip half of your legs in the water, then lie on the ground to look at the night sky.

The full moon is stunning and your only regret is that you’re a little tipsy so your glazed eyes can’t fully savor its beauty, but you try. Cozy in your hoodie and with your hands behind your head, you take a deep breath and take everything in. You don’t always get to have this time to be away and just live in the moment, but you know you’re lucky enough that you even have the opportunity to.

“___?”

You turn to the side and see Jungkook, drowning in his oversized hoodie, approaching you. You gesture to your side and he takes the spot next to you. He lies down and rests his head on his hands, too. 

“Haven’t you taken a bath?” You ask.

“Yeah, and I can do it again,” he shrugs. 

He takes in your sluggish state and asks if it was too loud for you inside.

“A little,” you say. “But I also needed time alone.”

At your words, Jungkook apologizes and tries to stand up, but you pull his arm and shake your head.

“And I already had it,” you say. “I don’t need you to leave.”

“Sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“You don’t need to though. You - anyone, really - are always welcome. More like, needed,” you smile. “I enjoy having you around, Kook. I don’t know if I’ve ever said that before.”

“You have, a few times. Mostly when you were drunk though. Like now,” he teases. 

“I always mean it though, especially now,” you tell him, more seriously than he is.

“Well, I’ll always be,” he assures you. “You know I’m always there for you, right?”

“You are and you have been - driving me around, changing my lightbulb, shopping with me, cooking for me…” you say, somehow feeling this heaviness at the thought that maybe you haven’t done much for him the way he’s been doing things for you.

“I like doing them, the way I think you like helping me with my workplans or talking me through tough days at work or watching my students’ games to cheer for them and me,” he responds, somehow knowing that you needed to hear that, too. “And you know, making me laugh. A lot. You’re clumsy and a mess sometimes and it makes my day.”

“Why does it make your day?” You turn to him.

“Because you don’t care, and I mean that in an endearing way,” he clarifies. “You… just let yourself be who you are in front of us. That’s refreshing, you know? I think we all have our quirks and habits but we’ve spent so much time together as a group that it just feels like we’ve adjusted to each other.”

“That’s the great thing about friends, right? About people you’ve known for years? You don’t have anything to hide from them. Over time, they just learn all these things about you and just… live with it,” you say. “It just becomes a part of who they are, too, like how my being clumsy and clueless and spoiled and dramatic has just become an aspect of all of you being caring and dependable and understanding. It’s as if our qualities and parts of our personalities kind of just intertwine in that way.”

“That’s true. It’s like how romantic relationships end up being. Or should become. At least that’s what Seokjin and Hoseok tell me.”

You’re quiet for a while as you realize that yours never got to that point. It makes sense though, as they only lasted two years max but you never felt your personality intertwine with your exes in any way.

“Hmm, can’t relate,” you sigh. “Jimin and Mo-eum made me realize that there were parts of me that I didn’t really wanna show Jeong-su and Seungho.”

“Do you know why?”

“Could be dozens of reasons. Maybe it was them. Maybe it was me.”

“Maybe you just didn’t know them long enough,” Jungkook says, hoping that nothing he says is triggering for you. “I mean, it’s how it is with people and relationships. You learn about yourself the more you spend time with them and the more you do, the more of yourself you’re able to show or adjust or fit theirs.”

You hum in response, as you process what he says.

“I was kind of a selfish kid and only thought of myself and Jimin’s kindness taught me to be more thoughtful,” Jungkook continues. “I was still pretty shy when I got to college but I let out my playful side with Tae that I didn’t really know was there. And Mo-eum was so smart that I tried to keep up with her and I realized I was pretty smart, too.”

You laugh at this, as you think about how different your friends are with him and with you.

“Jimin and I always butt heads and he calls me out because he knows no one will and I need someone to,” you state. “Tae is very soft with me because he knows I’m hard on myself all the time. And Mo-eum… ever since we were kids, she just always asked me about life in general, like what career she should pursue or how she should manage all that trauma from work and still have enough of herself to give.”

“Such contrast,” Jungkook laughs. “I think it’s because you and I are so different, too, but that’s the point, right? They’re not different people. They just have sides to them that fit with others more but that’s still them. And I know comparing platonic and romantic relationships is a bit simplistic but it’s kinda the same. You spend enough time with someone and get to know them, and I mean genuinely get to know them, and you’ll figure out which ones fit.”

“It happens naturally, yeah?”

“It should. But it requires baring yourself to the other person.”

“And that requires vulnerability, too, doesn’t it?” You ask, turning to him now. 

“It does. It requires honesty, too.”

You look into Jungkook’s eyes and see the moon reflecting from them with how round and dark and captivating they are. You’d think that given your topic of conversation, this is the perfect time to just confess about how differently you’re feeling about him. 

But there’s still something that pulls you back, and you suppose it’s this need to be sure - not of whatever he feels for you but of what you feel for him, and what you feel about you. 

You don’t want to dive into this when you’re unsure of yourself. You don’t want to doubt if you’re able to truly be vulnerable to him. You don’t want to get into anything with him when you don’t know if you like this version of you now, because you know that what he deserves is someone who likes herself enough to treat him the way he should be treated. His exes have been insecure people who took him for granted, and you don’t want a reminder of them in you.

“And that requires trust,” you add.

“It does,” he smiles, knowing that both of you are just pulling from all your experiences of failed relationships and uncertainty.

He hopes that maybe just like him, you’re trying to get to that point where you trust him and yourself enough before seeing if what you both have could be something more.

Both of you spend a few more minutes just staring at the sky before deciding to head back inside. You help your remaining friends clean up, wash themselves, and then lie in bed. 

You take your place next to Mo-eum, on the side that gives you a view of Jungkook as he sleeps on the floor. You ask him if he’s comfortable and warm enough for this chilly night and he responds with a nod.

You like this side of you that seeks him, not just because you need to be taken care of, but also because you want to take care of him, too. You think that for now, that should be enough. 

Jungkook flinches in his sleep, catching himself by surprise this time and prompting him to wake up. He slowly opens his eyes, already used to the light coming in with how thin the curtains are but he doesn’t mind much, not when the first thing he sees in the morning is you - cuddled with the pillow, looking peaceful as your brain rests for a while. 

It was a little thing he did, moving the mattress just a tiny bit during the first night, because he saw that the curtain slit would be right across his face and the sun would be unbearable. It ended up giving him a much better morning view. 

He grunts as he sits up and starts cracking his back and stretching his limbs. He sees that Taehyung and Jimin are half awake and he nods at them. Mo-eum is already up as the early-riser of the group and of course there’s you, still steadily breathing and softly snoring. 

It’s a slow morning and there’s no rush to do anything. Jungkook likes this about your recent trips, which is also why you’re all able to stay up late to drink and talk and do whatever people your age are still able to do until the wee hours of the morning. Perhaps his body has adjusted as well; regardless of what time he sleeps, he doesn’t need the entire next day to recuperate. 

Mo-eum gets back to the room and sits next to him.

“How was last night?” She asks with a playful smile.

“I had to carry your drunk ass to the bed, and then Jimin’s,” Jungkook shakes his head.

Maybe not a lot has changed. 

“___ helped you though.”

“Yeah well, we were the only ones still in our right minds,” he laughs. 

“I was still lucid when I saw you walk out to look for her,” she smirks. 

“Hey, I was just making sure that she was still on the property,” he defends. “Who knows if she followed some rabbit out there and fell into a hole or something.”

“You’re getting ridiculous with your reasons,” Mo-eum rolls her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with her, you know?”

“I’m not denying that.”

“Good. Because I think she’s been liking that. She’s always got a lot in her mind and you help ease her a bit. Like, Jimin matches her energy, Tae comforts her, I hype her up and you…” she smiles. “You seem to do that and more. Like, you become what she needs at that time.”

“I’ve always tried to be there for her and it’s the same with her,” Jungkook shrugs, not wanting to reveal too much to your best friend. “I guess at this point it’s just become easier. And nicer. I’m happy I get to be what she needs.”

“Hmm. I’m sure she is, too.”

Mo-eum’s smile is comforting. Whatever you’ve told her or haven’t, her words are enough to assure him that he’s doing right by you. He’ll just continue and savor the moments you have together, like last night by the pool where you looked him in the eyes again and he’d been tempted to just lay his feelings out to you. 

But he hesitated, wanting to make sure that you’re ready for what he has to say. He’s certain about what he feels now but he doesn’t want to just spring it on you in the middle of celebrations and farewells. He’s just been basking in seeing you slowly settle into him, and perhaps that’s part of the whole experience, as you like to say. 

Mo-eum ruffles his hair before going back to bed, hugging you like a baby and asking if you’re hungry because she already is. Jungkook watches as you slowly get to your senses, look around, slightly sit up, then sleepily wave at him. It’s a bit random but he waves back and laughs. 

It’s not long after when the rest of you finally get up and start fixing up. You stand in front of the sink outside the bathroom to brush your teeth and just like the day before, he stands behind you as he sees you stretch your neck.

“Does it hurt again?” He asks.

“No, but a massage would be nice,” you mumble with bubbles in your mouth. 

He playfully shakes his head but proceeds to press his thumbs against the nape of your neck. 

“Such a princess,” he laughs.

You close your eyes at the pleasure, feeling like you could fall back to sleep with this. He eventually stops, which is perhaps good because you would’ve choked with how much you were quietly moaning, but then he lightly drags his fingers down your back. His touch pierces through your shirt and your body shivers. You don’t see his face in the mirror, but you quickly rinse your mouth to mask your smile over how it felt.

“I’ll wash up,” he says as he heads inside the bathroom.

You yell out your thanks and exhale deeply, but then Mo-eum skips next to you and wiggles her eyebrows.

“So domestic,” she teases. 

“Shush,” you pout at her. “Dude’s a master at teasing, who would’ve thought.”

You get dressed, too, and it’s not long after when you’re all on your way to a restaurant for your lunch of the famed spicy braised chicken. You take the passenger seat of the car that Jimin’s driving and watch Jungkook ride his motorcycle again, who fortunately put on some sunblock after you reminded him before leaving. 

With Mo-eum at the back, you all laugh as Jungkook and Taehyung dance to some music at the stoplight, busting out moves that make them look ridiculous and adorable at the same time. 

You arrive at the restaurant and there’s a long table reserved for your group. You see your friends make eye signals to each other to get you and Jungkook to sit side by side, and you wanna smack them but also thank them for doing the work for you. Even if you have been making an effort to get close to him, you don’t want to be too obvious.

Which is also why you spend those moments right after you take your seat talking to Hoseok, who makes you laugh so hard that you almost fall off your chair. 

But of course, Jungkook is there to make sure that doesn’t happen, as he manages to hold onto your arm before your ass hits the floor.

“Yah, are you Jimin?!” He scolds you.

“Excuse me, I’m offended,” you gasp dramatically.

“Brat. You wish you were me,” Jimin bites back.

“I wish I had your ass,” you hum.

It’s pretty amazing. You’d give him that.

“But your ass is already nice!” Mo-eum chirps. “It’s very spankable.”

Your older friends laugh, already used to the unfiltered conversations of the young ones, and none of you really care about it. You glare at your best friend, though, because Jungkook definitely did not laugh.

The conversation shifts to something else and the food finally arrives. The mild spiced dish is closer to Taehyung, so you ask Jungkook to give you a serving in your bowl. He hands it back to you filled to the brim, and he reminds you to let it cool first so the heat level isn’t too extreme for you.

You look at the dish in front of you. It looks so delicious you might actually cry. Except for the vegetables.

“I don’t like carrots,” you pout, transferring the two large chunks from your bowl to his.

“You need to eat carrots, ___,” he says sternly. “They’re good for your eyesight. It helps you see warning signs that tell you to watch out for things that might hurt you.”

You stare at the piece that he puts on your bowl.

“Yeah, a small chunk will definitely help my eyes,” you sarcastically say.

“Then a big one, then,” he counters, putting back the one you just gave him. And then another. “And one more for both eyes.”

You’re back to where you started and you scowl at him.

“You’re so annoying.”

He responds with a smirk. A smirk! One that looks teasing more than anything.

“You could always just feed her,” Jimin suggests.

You glare at him. 

“What?!” He mouths, and it hits you that this might be more obvious because this type of teasing is normal, but you’re being so sensitive about it.

“I’m not a baby,” you frown.

And just as you’re about to take a spoonful, your hair flies to your mouth, causing the sauce to stick to the strands and then on your face. 

You groan in frustration, prompting laughter from your friends, but you reflexively turn to Jungkook with a pout.

“Say that again?” he chuckles, as he wets the napkin and wipes the sauce off your hair.

You wipe your face, too, while he pulls your hair back so you could tie it. He looks at you with a mix of teasing and endearment, yet something about it makes your heart race. 

All you can do is laugh at how ridiculous you look and he laughs along because he probably thinks so, too. He watches you take your first bite to make sure it lands then he resumes with his own dish and reminds you to eat your carrots. 

You actually do cry, as even the mild spicy version of the chicken is still a little too hot for you, but you can’t stop eating. The fried rice and ramyeon are so intense yet heavenly, and nothing’s ever hurt so good and satisfied you like this. 

Jungkook ends up wiping out the rest of the food. The only reason why you stayed in the restaurant as long as you did was so he could finish eating, and you have to remind him of what you’ll be doing after, prompting him to pass up on the dessert he was about to order. You take some time to walk around the area so you can digest though, and it’s not long after when you’re back on the road.

Jimin had suggested going to Active Park so you could all compete against each other on wall climbing, with the losers doing penalties tonight. As you agreed on, everyone joins, even the ones who aren’t really into things like this. That doesn’t include Jungkook though, as he excitedly skips to the receiving area like he didn’t just stuff himself with food an hour ago. 

But he loves these things and this is his playground. He likes being active and on the move - a contrast to you - and experiencing the thrill. He also happens to be really good at it. 

You all get briefed and get proper shoes on. He scurries inside and already chooses his first activity where he walks up high poles then free falls to the ground. Then he climbs three walls consecutively and goes mission impossible mode when he rapells down. The others start playing and you let them go first, as you secretly enjoy watching them freak out and squeal while falling. 

You eventually decide to psych yourself up by climbing up the poles so you call for one of the staff to repeat the instructions. Just then, Jungkook appears next to you - you swear you saw him competing with Taehyung just a second ago - and asks if you’re ready.

“Yes, and I’m not scared of heights,” you remind him. “I’m just clumsy.”

“Please make sure you land properly. And don’t mistakenly unhook your cord.”

“I won’t,” you roll your eyes at him. 

But you do call for him to look at you when you’re at the top and then ask for his praise when you get back on your feet safely.

He laughs at how excited you are and encourages you to try more. You tell him to just enjoy and do everything he wants and that you’ll be fine so he goes, competes with almost everyone, and wins it all. You follow your own pace and lose a few match-ups, but it’s loud and intense the whole time that you’re torn between trying things out for yourself and watching your friends do it.

Half of you get tired right away and choose to sit around to watch the more energetic ones as they keep going. You all cheer for Taehyung on the circular slide. You all encourage Suhyeon in the spiderman climb. And when Jimin hits his lip on the sandbag during the jump, you gather around him to ask if he’s okay.

“It’s just a cut,” he shrugs.

“Nope, you gotta ice it,” you say. “Mo-eum’s already getting one.”

“Listen to ___. She’s good at treating busted lips,” Jungkook hums.

“Of course you’d know,” Jimin smirks at him.

“We are not talking about that night,” you frown as you press the cloth-covered ice cube on your best friend’s wound.    

“Why are you the one triggered when it’s Jungkook’s who got elbowed?” Yoongi asks you. 

“Because she got so angry and even attempted to run after the guy who hurt Kook,” Mo-eum informs them. “You know ___ when she’s angry. It ain’t good.”

They rehash that night and you kind of block it out, not wanting to remember what those intense feelings were like. But then again, maybe that’s when this whole Jungkook thing started so maybe it isn’t all that bad. 

Jungkook finally decides that he’s done and sits next to you on one of the chairs. You hand him a bottle of water and ask him if he's satisfied.

“Yup,” he heaves. “Hands are just a bit tired but they’re fine. And oh, my busted lip has healed.”

You snicker and look away.

“I don’t know if I ever properly thanked you for that night, ___,” he says. “So, uh, thank you. I don’t think I’ll ever forget all the times that you stood up for me.”

“Technically, it was just one time. It would’ve been more if people weren’t stopping me,” you laugh. 

“Well, there’s a reason for that, you know?” He nudges your knee. “You can actually get in trouble or get hurt. I… I don't really know how I’d be able to handle that. So don’t get yourself hurt, okay?”

“Is that why you were tailing me this whole time? You were scared I’d hurt myself?” You cock an eyebrow.

“___, you hurt yourself in your own house. Because of your couch. This place is filled with hazards.”

“Oh shush,” you laugh now. “Well, nothing happened to me. I think I’m improving.”

“No injuries today so you might just be,” he winks.

“You’d still look out for me, though?” you turn to him.

“Always,” he smiles. 

You head outdoors after a bit of rest to go-kart. Just when you thought that most of you have drained all your energy from wall climbing, it turns out that driving can actually restore it, as all of you quickly choose your karts and start riding around the track. With the breeze pushing you and the fluffy clouds against the blue sky as your background, it’s actually very relaxing.

You go only a few laps. Hoseok, Seokjin, Jimin, and Taehyung race five rounds because someone is always complaining or cheating. Jungkook skids like he’s on Fast and the Furious, and Suhyeon and Hayoung are just happily going about in their lanes.

There’s that feeling of calmness when you all take your seats on the benches in the adjacent playground with your iced drinks in hand. You laugh at Namjoon constantly being stuck in the track because he was confused over which foot had to press what, and then Yoongi bumping him because he couldn’t stop earlier. You’re laughing about last night, too, and just everything that’s been happening on this trip.

As always, Jimin and Taehyung play with the horse rockers, then Jungkook joins them when they spin in the merry-go-round. Mo-eum goes with you when you scurry to the big slide. You run up the steps, squealing as you do, and then trip on one of them.

Mo-eum goes to your rescue and tries to hold in her laugh. But the thump and her constant chuckling gets your friends’ attention and as you look up, you see Jungkook incredulously looking at you.

“So… about me not having injuries today, I think you jinxed it,” you smile sweetly at him. 

In Jungkook fashion, he laughs, helps you up, then puts a band-aid over the scraped skin on your shin. 

He might not always be next to you, but he’ll be there whenever you need him. You think that perfectly describes these last few months of getting closer to him. You hope it’ll be like that from here on out.

Watching the sky turn dark from the property’s outdoor area is quite magical, as you’re learning now. You’d just woken up from a long nap after arriving home and you’re now on the hammock, with your hands behind your head, taking in how stunning the view is. You’re next to Mo-eum who’s doing the same, and the others have taken their spots in different areas, too.

Not long after, you put on a dress and head to a restaurant for an omakase dinner. It’s another one of those spoils from Seokjin and Hayoung and you pretty much thank them after praising the chef with every dish. 

The ingredients are so fresh and they’ve been prepared so delicately. Taehyung dramatically walks around in awe and Jungkook jumps on his seat all night with how much he’s enjoying the food. It’s hard not to laugh when watching everyone react, and that includes you. You’re just as expressive as everyone is, including Yoongi and Gyu-rim who often just say the simplest things when describing their appreciation for food.

Hoseok buys a fancy bottle of sake to take home where you all finish it, alongside the other drinks you bought on the way back. 

It’s a beautiful evening but you suppose that everyone’s just spent from everything you’d done today, as you all just take a seat around the fire pit and talk. The penalties will have to be be done tomorrow, you all agree.

You fall asleep on Hayoung’s shoulder in the midst of the tired laughter and end up lying on her lap. Your lower body spills over to Jimin’s lap as well, and he just chuckles and says that the princess is tired.

“Want me to help you get ready for bed?” Your cousin whispers in your ear.

You’re still a bit aware of your surroundings and could hear what she says, and you tell her it’s fine and that they should all stay while you take a nap. But you don’t know how long you’re asleep for until you feel yourself being pulled up.

“Let’s go, I’ll help you wash up,” Mo-eum says to you.

You let her guide you up until you’re lying in bed in your pajamas, ready to fall into deep sleep. 

Jungkook sits on the edge of the bed right next to yours. Taehyung is on the floor mattress this time after lying on it to have a feel and then falling asleep right away, so Jungkook gets to have a different view of you this time.

He chuckles as he watches your breathing deepen and then steady. You must really be tired after all those activities and the amazing dinner and he wouldn’t be surprised as he’s exhausted, too. 

But it felt nice spending the day like this, even if he wasn’t next to you all the time. He’d been too excited with the wall climbing but he always made sure to watch you whenever you did it. He was having so much fun during go-karting but he always looked for you on the track and smiled at you whenever he passed you by after you stopped driving. 

Even during dinner, you were sandwiched between Hayoung and Namjoon so Jungkook just glanced at you to see how you found the food because he was losing his mind. And then after you all got home, he just softly watched you slowly fall asleep. You looked so cozy though, like he just wanted to hug you until he fell asleep, too, just like now, as you finally turn towards your side facing him. 

You’re hugging a pillow and Jungkook laughs to himself at how much he wished that was him. It must feel nice, he thinks, to have you that close. Maybe you’d talk until someone knocks out mid-sentence like what happened in Sapporo. Maybe you’d laugh until you get tired. Maybe you could do more, just like the home he wants to cuddle in.

He shakes his head at the thoughts in his mind. He’s thinking too much and definitely too far ahead. He has that hope that you might feel the same way. After all, he’s seen you space out while looking at him, whether up close or from afar, and he knows that means your mind has travelled to so many places. He could only hope your thoughts were about him, perhaps about settling into your feelings, whatever those are. 

But he’s quite a patient man when it comes to things he really, really wants. He’s holding out hope that somehow, you’re thinking and figuring things out yourself, and as long as you are, he’ll just admire you and enjoy what he gets to share with you as much as he can.

The morning comes longer than you expected, and that tells you that you probably had a really good sleep. You remember seeing the blaze from the fire pit and dozing off, then briefly washing up before crashing out again. 

But the light is blaring through the blinds now and you let out a yawn. You stretch your arms and look around to find yourself alone in the room, and you check your phone to see what time it is and what everyone else is up to. It’s 9 AM and it seems that there’s takeaway breakfast downstairs. 

Just then, you hear Mo-eum calling for you as she climbs up the stairs.

“Hey, you’re up!” She chirps. “You didn’t wake up even with the guys’ early alarm, huh?”

“Nope, I was passed out. But I slept so well,” you mumble. “Where’d they go?”

“To the other side of the island. Tae and Kook wanted to ride their bikes then decided to buy breakfast for everyone so they called Jimin to pick up the food,” she laughs. “Let’s go eat!”

You nod and wash up before heading downstairs with her. People have gathered at the kitchen while some are already outside, enjoying the sun and the cool morning breeze. There’s an array of breakfast wraps and sandwiches and sweet and savory pastries that it’s hard to choose. But you pick up a few and look around to try your friends’ choices, knowing they’ll let you.

You get a bite from Mo-eum and Hayoung then Jimin, then you see Jungkook going back inside to get another serving. He chooses the bacon bun and you think he sees your eyes light up, because he’s walking towards you and offering you a bite. 

“Hmm, that’s good,” you smile satisfyingly. 

“It is, right?” he smiles. “Is the wrap okay?”

“Yup. It’s very filling.”

“Nice. I thought you’d like that,” he hums. “Did you see the iced black sesame drink I got you?” He asks as he grabs a cup from the bag. “I told them to tell you it’s here. I thought you’d like it. But there’s hot coffee and uh, my barely touched iced americano if you want.”

“This sounds like my kind of drink,” you smile at him now, taking what he got you.

It’s delicious and you tell him so. You walk out towards the lounge chair by the pool where he follows and you ask him about where they went to earlier.

“There’s this stretch of the ocean where you can see some dolphins and Tae wanted to check them out,” Jungkook says. “So we took our bikes there around 7 and just drove around the town. He was chatting with the locals and they told us what other areas to check out. Then we got some breakfast and called Jimin.”

“Oh, that sounded fun! Where did they say to go?”

“The lesser known parks that also have the cherry blossoms in full bloom, this hill with wildflowers, a pier that has a nice view of the ocean,” he shares. “They said where we watched the dolphins is a good spot to watch the sunrise and we should go back but I said we leave tomorrow so probably the next trip.”

“We leave in the afternoon though,” you remind him. “That actually sounds nice.”

“Do you… want to ride and catch the sunrise in the morning?” he asks, testing the waters. “We could still take the car but the bike is just a different experience. It’ll be cold but they swore by it and said the fishermen love that area because of how pretty it is.”

“You’ll make sure I’ll be safe right?” You nervously ask, as the thought of riding a motorcycle with him is both a thrilling and terrifying thought for completely different reasons. “I mean, you know how dramatic I am with a stubbed toe. Imagine me injured, so I’m sure you’ll make sure that won’t happen.” 

“Definitely not letting that happen,” he chuckles.

“Good! Wake me up, okay! And should, uh, should we invite the others?”

It’s a courtesy question, you think, even if you’re unsure you’re ready to be alone with him to do something that you think is quite intimate - not only in riding his bike with him but also watching something beautiful together. 

“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook hums. 

It won’t hurt, you convince yourself, even if you hope deep down that no one will take the offer.

[to: My Elders] Kook and I are riding his bike to this spot to watch the sunrise. Anyone want to join?

It’s barely 10 seconds in when Jimin replies. 

[from: jiminie pabo] nope. and i speak for everyone.

You know what he’s doing so you quickly turn to where he is by the hammock and try to glare at him but he only smiles and gives a not-so-subtle thumbs up sign. You could only hope he didn’t say anything to anyone about what you feel and that this potential alone time with Jungkook is something that you’d want to have.

[to: My Elders] K then. Just tell us if you change your mind.

You turn to Jungkook. “They said they don’t want to. Well, Jimin did but he probably asked them. Are you still good?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I’ll wake you up early then and we could get back here and still have time for a nap before we head out.”

“Sounds good,” you smile, hoping that the constant smiling isn’t giving you away too much, given that you’ve been doing that to him all trip. “Can’t wait.”

You talk a bit more about the sights he saw until your food and drinks have finished. You’re heading back to the kitchen for water when Taehyung suggests swimming in the pool before going for a ride around some areas of the island, just like what the locals had said. 

Everyone agrees, except for Yoongi, and you all change into your swimsuits and take advantage of the nice weather. 

You think at this point that you’re already immune to Jungkook’s bare body. You’ve seen it so many times before this trip and even just these past days, even if you technically zoned out in admiration this time. 

As the universe would have it, you are actually not immune, especially when you head out to the pool and find him on his hands and knees, trying to balance himself on the watermelon floatie, with all his muscles working full-time to keep himself from falling into the water. 

Your stupid mind conjures up images that you definitely should not be thinking about, and you turn away in time before he catches you staring at him again.

Mo-eum walks over to you and you both walk towards the pool to have a dip. But of course, Jimin and Taehyung cannonball into the water and start playing like the children that they are. They play with the water guns, too, and with Jungkook and their recruit, Hoseok, they run around the house and try to shoot each other as if they aren’t already wet.

The rest of you adults just chill around, content enough with the cool water and the fact that the sun doesn’t seem too much yet. It’s when the boys return that Seokjin reminds everyone of the penalties from yesterday’s game and suggests playing more games until there’s only one person left to receive the punishment. There's a handstand race, which Hoseok loses, and then there’s the chicken fight, which is a three-way match between you, Gyu-rim, and Suhyeon. 

Jimin says that the men with the sturdiest shoulders should be the other half of the pairs, and with Suhyeon being paired with Namjoon and Gyu-rim calling dibs on Taehyung, that’s how you end up with Jungkook as your partner. 

You try your best to not look affected even if you’re freaking out inside. You ask Jungkook instead if he’s ready to win and save your ass from drinking Seokjin’s terrible concoction. 

He chuckles and says that he trained his whole life to always win at chicken fights and that he has amazing grip. While you should’ve taken that lightly, your mind goes somewhere again that you have to pinch your cheeks as a reminder to get away from that place and instead focus. 

He asks if you’re ready then assists you in getting on his shoulders and he’s right, his grip on your thighs is pretty good and you just know he’s gonna be holding you steady all throughout. You practice some moves and he advises you on what to do. 

“Will you hate me if I pull your hair,” you ask.

“Nope. I will if you fart, though.”

“I’ll try. Let’s hope I don’t get too excited,” you tease.

“Yah!” he exclaims, threatening to drop you in the water.

You hold onto his cheeks for support and you laugh and say he’s being dramatic. 

When Seokjin calls for the start of the match, you and Jungkook get your game faces on. He told you earlier to be aggressive so that’s what you do, and he expertly maneuvers his body so you can have the right angle for a good hit. You pull his hair only a little, but he doesn’t mind, especially when Suhyeon falls first, and then Gyu-rim follows right after. 

You celebrate your win with cheering and tender taps on Jungkook’s cheeks. He slowly drops you and you reflexively hug each other in joy. You feel the tingles at being so close to him, especially with your skin being in contact with his, and then your hands brushing against each other and lingering under the water. 

You sit next to each other on the pool ledge as you watch the two other women play rock-paper-scissors, with Gyu-rim losing and facing Hoseok for a palm push match while standing on a floatie.

It ends up being so intense. Hoseok has crazy core strength and can balance well but Gyu-rim is playing aggressively. It’s especially funny when Yoongi gets so into the match and keeps yelling out instructions for her to follow, even going as far as taunting Hoseok, causing him to laugh and eventually lose. 

Everyone explodes in laughter at the series of events. It has truly woken all of you up and you feel energized. You stay in the pool for a few more minutes before getting changed, ready for a drive around the island.

Mo-eum is on the wheel this time while you make yourself comfortable next to her. You all watch Jungkook and Taehyung enjoy themselves again on their bikes as they guide you and the other cars to a quieter part of town. 

You find a stunning waterfall and then go to the hill with wildflowers, which also has a nice view of the mountains. You buy some rice cakes from a store then get some iced drinks from a cafe before heading to a park to look at all the springtime flowers in full bloom. 

Much as you want to just stay next to Jungkook whenever you hang around a new place, you find yourself enjoying watching him just be. Whether he’s looking around and enjoying the view or being rowdy and playful with your friends, you’re captivated by what he does and how he is, which is totally new to you. 

“Even you weren’t that endeared with your exes,” Mo-eum points out when you’re back in the car to head to a beach. “I mean, I guess I get it. They weren’t exactly charming people, no offense.”

You look at her in question, wondering what made her say it.

“You were looking at Kook with sparkly eyes,” she shrugs. “Just thought you should know in case you didn’t know.”

“I—” you stutter, clearly unaware. 

“It’s fine, dude. It’s just us,” Jimin chuckles. “It’s how it is when you like someone, you know?”

“Was I not like this with my exes?” You ask them.

“Hmm, not really. You were ecstatic at the start, obviously,” Mo-eum says. “But I don’t recall you being this… soft. It might come with age, who knows? You’re probably exhausted from feeling so intensely all the time.”

You let her words settle as it turns quiet in the car, save for the blowing of the wind through the open windows. It must be tiring to experience such strong feelings all the time; you suppose that’s why you never really got to pay attention to them.

With Jungkook, you’ve been having these feelings for a few weeks now, and they’ve been ruminating, like you’re settling into them as you try to make sense of how this could happen. You suppose in your constant questioning or even disbelief, it’s allowed you to take things slow. With this trip and being around him as much as you are, you’re gradually getting used to feeling this way while not throwing yourself completely into it right away. You’re also getting used to you being like this.

You suppose that’s made you take notice of everything else about him. It’s also what’s making you look at him more softly, as if you’re getting to know him from afar.

Your thoughts are suspended for a while when you arrive at a quiet beach. It’s the perfect spot for a swim and you watch your friends put on their sunblocks and rush to the water. You’re surprised at how much energy all of you still have but it’s probably the most free you’ve all felt in a long time. 

You sit on the beach towel that’s been set on the ground. You’re watching them play around while putting on your sunscreen when you hear Jungkook call your name before sitting down next to you.

“Hey,” you say. “Why aren’t you there with them yet?”

“Tae and Jimin made me put on their sunscreens then ran to the water,” he pouts. “Do I still have some on my face?”

You look at him when he turns to face you. You spread the bit that’s on his nose and chin then tell him he’s all good. He puts on his arms and you have to turn away and act unaffected when he spreads the lotion on his chest and torso. He turns to you again with his bunny-like smile and asks if you could put on his back.

“Sure,” you smile. 

You do it as calmly as you can, forcing thoughts out of your mind because while this isn’t the first time you’ve done this, it’s the first time that you’re desiring him.

He asks if you’ll swim, too, and you instinctively nod so he offers to put some on your back. You nod again, not at all ready for his palms to press against your skin like this. 

Of all times to wear a two-piece suit, it really had to be now and you think that you could’ve stuck to what you wore this morning. You remove your cover up dress and turn around, hoping that he won’t feel the shiver on your skin once he touches you.

But you feel it, not because the lotion is cold but because his hand is rough and gentle at the same time. He’s quiet, too, so you don’t know what’s going on in his mind and you suddenly feel tense, especially when he moves down to your waist and you jerk in surprise. 

But he doesn’t say anything until he’s finished. You mumble your thanks and he faces the water once you start spreading the lotion on your arms and legs. 

Mo-eum yells for both of you to come so Jungkook stands up and offers his hand for you to take, which you do. Your fingers brush against each other again and you can’t help the small smile that forms on your face, until you find out that there are pebbles that line the shore which you have to cross to get to the water and you express your dismay.

“It’s just like acupuncture on your feet,” Jungkook explains.

“I don’t like them. They hurt,” you pout.

“Come on. It’s not that bad,” he says.

You still look unsure so he offers his hand again and you take it, letting him ease the pressure on your feet as you walk over. You make it, and you sigh in relief once you’re submerged in the cool water. 

Your friends join you and you all just soak in the feeling of being here and wave at the others who opted to stay on the shore. 

When you all collectively start getting dehydrated, you decide to head back. You groan when you reach the pebbled part of the shore again and Jungkook chuckles next to you.

“Do you want to ride on my back? Do you want me to throw you to the other side or build you a bridge?” He teases.

The piggyback ride is definitely tempting but you opt for something else.

“Hold my hand again?” You ask.

He softly smiles and offers his and you gladly take it. You almost don’t want to let go but you do, hoping for another chance to do it again. 

You all lay on the towels to dry up a bit before heading back on the road for a last drive to a pier before heading to a restaurant for some black pork belly for dinner. 

You sit next to Jungkook, given the realization that it’s your last night and tomorrow’s your last day. When you get back to Seoul, it’s back to the daily grind and your usual schedule. You want to see him again. In fact, you want to see him more. 

You could reason that you’re just doing what you’ve been doing these past months if you ask him to hang out or go with you to buy something or watch a movie in your apartment. Or you could just be honest with him and tell him how you feel, perhaps see if he feels the same way and figure out where you go from here. 

The thought makes you giggle and butterflies explode in your belly thinking that he might like you, too. You don’t want to assume. It could be that he’s always been this attentive or affectionate to you and you never really paid attention because maybe, he stayed the same and you’re the one that changed. 

It’s also possible that alongside you, he also changed. Or you may also just be reading too much into it and you’re completely off the mark and it may be the worst thing in the world but then maybe it isn’t. Not having him around you in any way is definitely much worse and that thought makes your heart skip a beat for all the wrong reasons. 

You don’t want to think of a life where he isn’t around, same as you can’t imagine the last 10 years without him. Would trying to have something more put all that in jeopardy? 

But you’ve always been a risk-taker. You’ve been rejected before but you got over it and you never regretted going for something you want for fear of what you’ll lose. 

Then again, Jungkook is different; he’s your friend. Losing him because he doesn’t feel the same way would be terrible for you.

But who’s to say you’ll lose him even if he doesn’t like you back? You’ll make sure you won’t and—

“Yah,” he nudges your knee. “Can your wandering mind get its ass back here? We’ve got dinner to eat. I’m cooking this pork perfectly so you better be present for it.”

You turn to him who’s teasingly laughing at you and you shake your head, knowing he’d seen your face probably express all the different thoughts and emotions you just experienced all in one minute. 

“Okay, better get going and cook it to perfection then,” you say smugly. 

Jungkook shows off when he’s challenged and that’s what he does. He gives a commentary of how he’s grilling the pork and even does tricks of opening the soju and beer bottles to the delight of everyone. But he’s right to boast because the meat does taste amazing. He’s rendered the fat well and it’s so juicy, everyone moans through dinner. 

You all stay in the restaurant a while to make sure everyone’s sobered up before heading back to the house where you watch an outdoor movie - a sci-fi horror film that Mo-eum insisted on because she thinks she’ll be less scared with more people around. 

She wasn’t right about that and you fared much better with Jungkook next to you, mostly because you were actually nervous to do something silly, like snuggle with him or hold his hand. You screamed only in one part and managed to cover your mouth in time. He teasingly laughed at you though and said he wasn’t going anywhere even if you screamed again.

There’s dancing and singing right after to get over what you just watched. There’s also definitely more alcohol. But you hold off a little, knowing you have that sunrise ride in the morning with Jungkook, which you’re really doing alone with him because everybody else passed up on it. 

You see him drink less, too, and you look at each other after rejecting Namjoon’s drink offers and know you’re thinking the same. 

The night still ends right before midnight though, and once you’re settled on your side of the bed and Jungkook is tucked under the covers on his, he asks you again about tomorrow.

“You sure you’re ready to wake up and brave the cold?”

“Yes. You’ll make sure I will,” you laugh.

“Okay then. See you in the morning.”

Waking you up before 5 AM isn’t as bad as Jungkook expected. You open your eyes after the fifth tap and raise your arms for him to pull so you could get off the bed. You trip on the floor mattress but thankfully don’t wake Taehyung up nor stub your toe so that’s a success in Jungkook’s books. 

You insist on washing up downstairs so you don’t wake your friends up and he has to guide you down the steps because you’re still half asleep. You do your business then wait for him to do his.

You jerk in surprise when he exits the bathroom in just his joggers, and you grumbly ask him why he’s always naked. When he laughs at your question, you ask him why he’s laughing, and he just waves this off as you, speaking your mind like always. 

You ask for his jacket though, since the thickest one you have is still wet and he’s got one he could lend you so he wears the thinner one so you’d feel warmer.

There are a dozen things that could’ve gone wrong with just getting you out of the door but they didn’t happen so yes, this isn't as bad as Jungkook had imagined. 

You make your way to his motorcycle and he faces you to put on your helmet.

“Don’t be scared, okay? Tell me if you are then I’ll slow down,” he instructs. “But just hold tight. You know I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“Okay,” you smile softly. 

He gets on the bike and you follow his instructions for getting behind him. You wear the backpack with the hot drinks inside then you wrap your arms around his waist as security. 

You quickly settle in and loosen your hold around him just a little. It’s still dark everywhere so there’s not much to see so you just focus on how he feels in front of you, liking the warmth he emits and the stability he provides as he carefully drives around. 

It’s not a long drive but you suppose that’s fine. You get to the viewing spot and quickly see the start of the sun’s ascent.

“Not bad, right?” He gestures to his bike. “It rides pretty smooth and it’s not too loud.”

“It was fine,” you assure him. “I didn’t feel like I was gonna fall off or anything.”

He smiles in response and helps you sit on the ledge of a wall that gives a good view of the ocean. With cups of hot tea in hand, you sit in silence as the sky starts to lighten, as if you’re witnessing the changing of the guards and it’s now the sun’s turn to watch over earth. 

It’s breathtaking and you think of all the times you’d taken the sunrise for granted. It’s slow but it’s constant. It may look different, depending on where you’re watching it from, but it still happens everyday and you either go through your day without thinking about it or you stop and look at the sun and think that it did its best in showing up today. 

That’s how it is with things you’ve gotten used to sometimes - you stop paying attention, and perhaps that’s when you miss out on important things. 

You recall the sunrise during your hike a few months ago when Jungkook stayed back to make sure you made it to the top. You don’t even know where he was when you all sat down by the rocks to watch and perhaps that says a lot with how you looked at him then. Because you’re here alone with him now, and you already know this moment will last with you for a long time. 

Maybe your friendship is like the sunrise. It will always be there, but you could watch it on top of a mountain or by the ocean or along Hangang River and the view changes. You know you changed, and now that you’ve paid attention, you want to know if this friendship could change into something more, too.

“Now that’s satisfying,” Jungkook hums as the sun settles above the water now.

“Thanks for telling me about this place and bringing me here, Kook,” you turn to face him. “It’s uh, it’s something I’ll always remember.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” he responds. 

You don’t know if it’s the sincerity in his eyes or it’s just you being caught up in the moment, but you glance at his lips and think for a millisecond that crashing yours against his is a good idea. 

His phone alarm ringing fortunately knocks some sense into you and you turn away in time for you to not do anything abrupt and maybe unwelcome. He remarks that he forgot to set it off for this time and you nod, internally thankful that he did. 

It’s at that moment when you hear sounds from the water and see that dolphins have come to swim on this part of the ocean. You’re so surprised and excited that you reflexively hold his hand but he doesn’t seem put off and he lets it stay there.

You don’t mind at this point. All you know is that it feels right and you want to feel it again. 

The moment ends and you look at each other in awe at being able to experience something so wholesome and beautiful together. You suppose it’s too much for words, as you get back on the bike and ride around town with not many words. 

It’s a longer trip this time, as he says that he’ll take the other route so there’s more of the town to see, and you don’t mind at all. You’d like to hold him like this as long as possible.

You make it back to the house and take a nap until everyone else wakes up. You pack your bags and load them in the trunk before you head out for some stir fried pork lunch. Jungkook and Taehyung follow after returning their bikes and you watch Jungkook from afar, beefing with Jimin about the sausage and then finishing more portions than he said he’d have.

You drive to the airport and don’t wait long before you board the plane. You sit next to Jungkook again and you lean on each other just like the flight coming here. But you suppose something’s really changed now, as you comfortably snuggle closer and think that you want to keep doing this, maybe hold hands, too. Perhaps share a kiss?

It’s all too much and probably too soon but you’ll care about all that later on. You want to bask in the possibilities first; the thoughts of consequences will come soon after you separate from him. 

And it does, after you hang out at Jungkook’s place with Taehyung, Jimin, and Mo-eum and then he drops you off at yours. 

“So, Tae invited himself and you guys to my apartment on Saturday,” you say when you open your door and he rolls your luggage inside your home. “You’ll be there, right?”

“Of course,” he smiles.

“I’ll return your hoodie all fresh and washed then!”

“No problem. You take care, yeah? Hopefully the trip gave you a bit of energy for the week.”

“It did. It gave me a lot actually. You, too,” you smile back.

“Same,” he nods. “I’ll head out and see you, yeah?”

“Good night, Kook!” You yell out.

“Good night!”

You lie on your couch once you close the door and take in his scent on his hoodie that you don’t want to remove just yet. You already can’t wait to see him again. You also know you’re gonna have to find a way to deal with all this and you’ll have to do it without losing him in the process.

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[tommysversion]

Forbidden Fruit [Part 2] - Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

Summary: this is the fix it chapter. Joel and Reader are in an established relationship as he heals from his injuries, and the younger members of the family make a guest appearance for family movie night.

Contents & Warnings: spoilers for 2.02 but That didn't happen. Age gap unspecified but exists. Established relationship. Unprotected PIV. One (1) degrading pet name from Joel. Praise. One (1) spank. Mentions of traumatic injury. PTSD implied/briefly mentioned. Creampie/unsafe PIV. Reader is AFAB but no physical description beyond being able bodied (or at least moreso than Joel).

Notes: we can all collectively agree 2.02 was not a vibe, yes? Cool. I offer my contribution to the fix it stash.

Word Count: 2.7k. || Part 1 Here

- x. -

You've lost count of how many times you've thanked whatever God is still listening for Joel's life.

Having lived through and existing in the world of the outbreak, you thought you knew fear. Nothing could have prepared you for the sheer terror that had come with Ellie and Jesse riding back into Jackson after the blizzard, Dina half conscious with Ellie, and Jesse supporting a literally comatose Joel.

A group of five, they had explained. Military, maybe. Former Fireflies. One with a vendetta. She had beaten Joel half to death before Ellie and Jesse had arrived. Had had the element of surprise and sheer fucking luck on their hands.

He had been unconscious for the better part of a week, and you? You had felt frozen in time with him, barely moving from his side unless you had to, whilst the town doctor and medics moved around you like bees.

That was months ago now. Joel's eyesight was worse in one eye, it had taken him a while to recover from the concussion, and he walked with a limp - would walk with a limp for the rest of his life, if the doctor was right.

But he was alive. Alive and with you. Alive and reconciled with Ellie, who had not only managed to work out their issues, but had finally started calling him 'dad'. Joel hadn't made a huge deal out of it, but you knew it meant the world to him. More than the world.

He had expected you to leave; you're young, he had said. You didn't need to be saddling yourself with a broken old man, he had said. You had kissed him until he had shut up, changed the butterfly bandage on his forehead, pressed a featherlight kiss to his uninjured temple. And eventually he had realised you meant it. That you weren't going anywhere. That you, and Dina, and Jesse, were all a part of his family now.

The months ticked on; Jackson slowly rebuilt, Joel slowly healed, and you moved into his house. Every night that you fell asleep beside him, every morning you woke tangled together, and you didn't take a single one for granted.

Ellie wanted to make fun of you, wanted to tease in the way that only a young adult watching a parent fall in love could manage, but she had come so close to losing Joel too that any joke or comment about acting like it was the last day you'd get together seemed to hit a little too close to home.

The weather is warming, though it's still cold outside. Still a faint chill in the air. The day is slowly turning to evening, and you have a pot roast on the stove ready for later.

Dina has made coffee; everyone has a mug. Joel sits on the couch, his glasses a little crooked as he tips a spoon of sugar into his coffee cup. Ellie sits on one side of him, Dina with her head on her shoulder. You sit on his other side, leaning into him like you're one person instead of two.

All that's missing from this scene is -

"Fuckin' hallmark postcard in here." Jesse shakes snow off his boots on the porch and hangs up his coat as he walks in, ignores the middle finger he's given in greeting from Ellie.

"You're late. We were gonna start without you." Dina says, clearly ribbing him.

Jesse looks mock horrified, turns to Joel as if to clarify that such blasphemy would occur. Joel just offers the younger man a 'I just live here' sort of shrug and a grin.

You get up to fix Jesse a coffee, come back to him sprawled in the armchair, Die Hard loaded up on the television waiting. It's an old movie. A classic, really. The sort of thing you can all lose yourselves in.

Which you do, for the next few hours; the five of you lose yourselves in the action movie misadventures of John Maclane, quoting your favourite lines to one another back and forth over the dinner table long after the credits roll.

The five of you eat the pot roast, the strawberry tarts you made especially for movie night because they're Joel's favourite. It's close to nine when the girls - women, really, but they'll always be girls to you - retreat out to the garage for the night. You offer the spare room to Jesse but he just grins, says he has to be up early for a patrol anyway, and bids you goodnight.

You wash the dishes and Joel leans against the bench top to dry them, both of you packing everything away before you go up to bed for the night.

He's still a little slow on the stairs, much to his own chagrin, a step behind you with muffled cursing.

"Fuckin' leg. Bitch knew where she was shootin', dammit."

Wordlessly you stop so you can help him. Ignore the attempt to muffle the sigh he makes, because he hates needing help. Hates that he accepts it, even though he loves you dearly.

"I know what you're thinkin', that I'm damn lucky to still have my leg," Joel grouses as you reach the bedroom, help him with the flannel shirt that he's wearing.

"Actually, no." You say, as you hang up the well loved green and blue plaid, "I'm thinking I'm lucky you're still here, bad leg, complaints and all."

You turn around to see him shaking his head with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Make it fuckin' hard to complain about shit when you put it that way, sweetheart."

You sigh, worried you've upset him as you cross to the bed where he's sitting, wrap your arms around him.

"You can complain as much as you like. I'll be glad to listen. Because it means you're still here with me." You press a soft kiss to his mouth. Inhale the wood and gunpowder scent of him.

Joel wants to tell you that that's lame, that he's too old to be worthy of that sort of affection. But he doesn't, because he's been so close to death he can taste it, and if for some reason you feel the same way about him as he feels about you, well. That's your issue.

So what he says instead is:

"Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't getting rid of me that easy."

Wanting to make you laugh. Only, you don't. You manage a weak giggle, only your eyes well up a little and it makes him feel like shit, because while he's at a point where he can joke about how close to death he was, it still upsets the hell out of you and Ellie.

"Aw, shit. Don't cry, darlin', I'm okay..." he pulls himself up off the bed so he can wrap you up in his arms, pull you against his broad frame and let you feel the warmth of him, his steady breathing.

You bury your face in his chest and listen to his heart, strong and steady, until you don't feel like you're about to break into a million pieces or hyperventilate. Then and only then do you look up at him.

You want to tell him he scared the hell out of you, but what good is that? He knows that already, and it's not exactly his fault. So you go for something else instead, something equally true.

"I love you, Joel, you know that?"

His thumb brushes away a stray tear that's still on your cheek as he nods.

"Yeah, darlin', I know. I love you too."

Maybe before the incident at the lodge he might have taken your words less seriously, but now, with a far too close call under his belt, Joel knows how much he means to you. How much you mean to him.

How, as he had been sure he was going to die, he had hoped somehow you would feel that he loved you as he left the world. Only to come to a week later with you on one side, holding onto his hand like you thought he might disappear if you let go, Ellie on the other.

How the first words out of his mouth had been "my girls okay?" before you'd dissolved into relieved sobs and Ellie had begun berating him about how he'd scared her to death and was he stupid and how fucking dare he do that to them all, as if he had had any say in his own attempted murder.

"Joel-"

You barely get his name out of your mouth before he's on you, his lips covering yours, gathering you up in his arms again, because fuck if he isn't going to savour each and every one of these moments with you now.

The kiss is long, intense. Half because he doesn't think he'll ever get tired of kissing you, and half because he doesn't want to hear your protests about how he still needs to take it easy. He can take it easy when he's in his eighties and on his actual deathbed. Having been there before, he knows he's nowhere close at the moment, and nothing is going to stop him from being intimate with you.

"Joel, we have to - mm - be careful," sure enough, you get the words out as he pulls your shirt off, nuzzles into your collarbone and kisses the side of your neck.

"Fuck being careful." Joel growls into your skin, somehow soft even after the harshness of the outbreak and the weather. "Keep tellin' me to be careful I'll tie you to the bed and fuck you like the mouthy slut you're actin' like."

He's rewarded with heat rushing to your cheeks, the knowledge that he can toe the line between sweet and filthy just right without actually disrespecting you. Only -

"Your back would give out before you could, old timer." You tease, and he laughs, lays a heavy swat to your ass with his big hand.

He can't even be pissed about it because you're right. Twenty years ago he could have bent you over every surface in this house. Maybe even ten. But now, rough sex between you involves you on your hands and knees, maybe his hand around your throat.

He's become softer with age, more gentle in how he handles his lovers. Even moreso with you.

"Shut up," he mumbles, though he's still kissing your throat so you know you're off the hook this time as you thread your fingers through his soft curls.

Even between kisses and the slowness that comes with his damaged leg, you manage to get every layer of clothing between you off, tossed to the floor of the bedroom with very little regard for it. You'll probably grumble about it in the morning when you go to do laundry while he laughs at you, but for now it's the furthest thing from your mind as you collapse back onto the bed, tugging him with you.

He might still be recovering from an injury and older, but he's still strong, still able to prop himself up on one hand as he leans over you, cages you in.

Your hands wander, gentle, reverent almost, as you lightly touch each and every scar on his body. Less than a year ago, he barely let you see his torso, see the map of brutality time has left across his olive skin. Now he almost hums and purrs under your touch as your hands move back up to his face. Cup his cheeks as you lean up to kiss him, moan when he licks into your mouth.

His free hand moves between your thighs, finds you soaked for him already, just from a few kisses, a few touches. Joel doesn't think he'll ever get over that, that feeling of elation that comes with being so easily wanted by someone, without any sort of stipulations.

"Joel..."

He doesn't think he'll ever get over that, either. That soft, whimpering plea of his name that somehow manages to be so full of equal parts love and lust.

Normally you both make an effort with foreplay, take pride in it, enjoy it. Taking your time with one another. But there are times like this where you just need each other, need to become one too much to bother with anything beforehand. All he cares about in this moment is that you're wet enough to take him, and God knows you are.

He slides into you in a single, fluid motion, grunting with satisfaction as your tight heat welcomes him, your fingers flying to his curls and knitting there as you inhale sharply.

Joel loves that fucking sound. That sweet little intake of breath when he fills you up with his cock, knowing it's almost too big for you. Almost too much, and yet you're always begging for him to keep going.

"You good, sweetheart?" He knows you are, can feel your warm inner walls constricting around his cock, can feel how wet you are. Can see the pleasure on your face even without him moving.

Still, you nod, confirm your pleasure with him before he moves, rolling his hips against yours. He has to be careful, doesn't want to piss off his stupid damaged leg, doesn't want you to worry, so he goes for slow and deep rather than fucking into you hard and fast like he once used to.

You don't mind; find you prefer this pace anyway, the intimacy of it, of his broad frame caging you in as he moves above you. You draw your knees up so he can get deeper, moaning when he hits your sweet spot.

"Fuck, good girl, such a pretty sound-" he groans, runs his thumb over your lower lip before he leans down to kiss you.

Eagerly you lean up to return the kiss before you fall back against the pillows, settle yourself there as you pull him close. His mouth finds yours, before he kisses down your throat.

Pressing his cock in deep, he grinds against you, drawing obscene moans from your lips as his mouth finds a peaked nipple, sucks it into his mouth greedily. Only when you're trembling beneath him does he release it with a lewd pop before giving its twin the exact same treatment, still grinding against you, getting the entirety of his thick length deep inside.

He isn't playing fair, is pulling every single trick he knows to make you cum, and it's working. Before you even realise it, you're almost there, a whimpering, trembling mess as he devours your mouth in greedy kisses.

"Go on, sweetheart. Go on an' cum for me now."

It's that soft, still dominant demand that sends you. Your entire body trembles beneath his as your pussy tightens around him, fluttering and weeping around the cock splitting you open.

Joel doesn't last much longer, knows you don't give a shit whether he lasts three minutes or thirty, groaning and cursing as he spills inside you, using the very last of the stamina he has to prevent himself from collapsing on top of you.

It's only after, when he's rolled off of you and you're curled under the blankets together, his arms around you, that the thought strikes you.

"Do you think Jesse didn't take the guest room because he knew?" You ask.

Joel fixes you with a look that can only be described as amused.

"Yeah, darlin', I think he knew."

You dissolve into a fit of laughter, mildly horrified by the idea that the younger adults in your lives are, God forbid, aware you have a sex life.

He shakes his head, presses a kiss to your forehead as you curl into his side. Maybe tomorrow you'll go into town, trade some strawberries from your garden for something. Bread, maybe.

One thing is for certain. Neither of you take these little moments for granted, nor the love you have for one another and your strange little family.

[xomakara]

Reconnecting Hearts

SUMMARY |  You meet this cute guy, Jeno, while you were studying overseas and start a fling with him during the year you were there. Months after returning home to Korea, your brother introduces you to his friend, not knowing that you already know him. And intimately at that. PAIRINGS | Jeno x Reader RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+ GENRE |  non-idol!Jeno, overseas fling, friends with benefits, smut CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, protected and unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), oral sex (both receiving/giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, vaginal penetration LENGTH | 8,844 words TAGLIST | — NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety AUTHOR’S NOTE | Jeno. Oh, Jeno. How in the world did you slip into the bias lane? No idea but I hope everyone likes this! 💚

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"Jeno," you let out a breathy moan as he begins kissing the back of your neck. "Jaemin will be back soon. We shouldn't be doing this."

"But you don't want me to stop," he says, trailing kisses to your jaw. "Do you?"

He stops and places both hands on either side of the counter you are leaning against. He buries his face into the back of your neck, waiting for your response.

You both stop in the middle of the kitchen and suddenly feel chills shoot through your body. A few months ago when you went to America for your studies, Jeno was just some cute guy from one of your classes you'd fallen into bed with. It had all just happened so fast. One second you were studying in the school's library, the next you both were kissing in some storage closet and a few days later he was in your bed, inside you. For a full year that's how things were. 

Life returned back to normal once you came back to Korea, becoming an adult, partying with your friends, dating around. Hooking up with other guys from time to time, but it never felt right. Because he wasn't with you. In reality, you only thought of him, wished he was the one touching you, that he was the one laying with you at night. You missed the feeling of his body above yours as he railed you, and most of all, his sweet yet strong arms surrounding you and making you feel safe. He was what you thought about before closing your eyes, and all you dreamed about. 

So, imagine how surprised you were when one day your brother came home from work with his fellow coworker and friend in tow. The moment you made eye contact with him, time froze. A smile formed on his lips as he looked you over. Your breathing hitched and you fidgeted nervously.

And when Jeno introduced himself to you as if it was the first time, you played along because lord knows what Jaemin would do if he found out the kind of history you two shared.

"I..." you trail, lost in words as Jeno slides the sleeve of your blouse to the side so his lips could kiss your shoulder. Your brain is becoming fuzzy, not thinking properly. Your eyes close briefly, focusing on the feeling of his fingers and lips touching your skin. 

"Jeno..." you say softly.

It takes everything in him to not take you right then and there in the kitchen. The way his name leaves your lips almost does him in. But the fear of your brother's reaction keeps him from touching you any further than he's already been doing.

"Hmm," he hums into your skin, kissing you softly. "I really missed you." 

He backs away from you and you turn around to face him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he grips your hips with a smirk. You bite your lip softly.

"I really missed you too," you sigh. 

And just like that, everything returns to normal for a bit and you are back at square one with him. It's true. You really did miss him, more than words could even possibly begin to describe. It wasn't just sex, like it was in the beginning, no. Over time things progressed and developed, deep feelings stirring the closer you two became. At least, from your side they did.

The butterflies constantly filled your stomach whenever you two met or saw each other. And, when you did hookup, he was sweet and gentle, which made you fall a little harder every time. After every sexual act you exchanged, he always stayed a little bit longer and held you, so warm and comfortable in his arms that it was hard to breathe. His soothing fingers ran across your scalp and shoulders and your fingers touched and caressed every part of him, something you had become addicted to. It was something you couldn't get used to, not that you wanted to. No, instead you longed for it. Craved him, longed for his warmth, and yearned for him.

What you wouldn't give for him to say 'I love you' to you in that deep smooth voice of his, running those smooth lips all over your bare skin and whispering that you are beautiful and good to him. All of those feelings intensified exponentially and more each passing day. All you wanted, no need, was his love and touch.

A loud buzz sounds off, scaring you and causing you to jump out of Jeno's grasp. Both of you are breathing heavily.

You scramble around the kitchen, attempting to make your presence seem casual. After taking a deep breath, you press the speaker button, asking who's there.

"It's us, dummy," you hear Jaemin say over the speaker. "Now open the door, our hands are full."

After the doors unlock with a click, you release the breath you didn't know you were holding in.

"We'll be fine," Jeno mutters before Jaemin walks through the front door. "He doesn't know about us."

You take a second to fix yourself, your hair and blouse, before running back to the living room just in time to see Jaemin enter, the rest of your friends hot on his heels.

"Sorry we're late. We got held up at the register because someone–" your brother sends a playful glare over at Haechan, "was flirting with the cashier and held up the entire line. You should have come with us, Jeno. Then maybe the transaction would have been smoother."

The whole gang plops down in the living room after dropping the multiple bags of takeout on the coffee table. Everyone gets situated in their regular spots, opening the boxes and containers that fill the space on the table.

Jeno has seated himself across from you on the couch, leaning forward to grab a can of soda. It takes everything in you not to stare at the outline of his arm, but you manage to pry your eyes away just in time, trying hard to concentrate on the conversations around you.

For the most part, you succeed. However, that all goes away the moment you look up and make brief eye contact with Jeno, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip quickly before a smile appears on his face. You swear you catch a devilish smirk on his face before he faces away and turns to ask Jaemin a question.

Damn, that man will be the death of you.

In your peripheral view you see a hand wave in front of your face, causing you to gasp and jump slightly in your seat. Everyone sitting close laughs, except Jaemin, who's frowning from your reaction.

"Hey! What was that for?" you shout playfully, hitting his shoulder.

“You were spacing out,” Jaemin said. “We were calling you and everything.”

"Sorry," you chuckle awkwardly, glancing at Jeno for half a second. "Just thinking about what movie we should watch next. Do you guys have any suggestions?"

Jisung jumps from the floor, looking at everyone with a pout. "Please, nothing scary this time. I had nightmares for weeks after watching that last one."

"Let's watch a romantic drama!" Haechan adds with a squeal before shoving food in his mouth.

"Ew, pass," Chenle shouts from beside him.

"Yo, what about an action film?" Mark suggested.

The four of them bicker for a moment over what genre of film to watch until Renjun speaks up, settling the argument.

"Why not have a mix of genres? Like one scary, one comedy, and so on." He suggests.

Everyone nods in agreement, the bickering now gone. It is then settled.

One movie goes by before Haechan turns off the light, enveloping everyone in the dark, save for the TV. You watch the film until something else catches your attention. You're sitting next to Jeno, knees pressed against his, a throw blanket tossed over your laps, his hand squeezing your naked thigh, hidden under the soft material.

The sound from the television becomes distant as your senses focus on only him, his warm hand caressing your exposed skin. You turn to him, locking eyes as a shiver runs through you when his hand begins wandering further, dangerously close to where you want him the most. You slipped a hand under the blanket, sneaking to where Jeno's fingers are barely touching your pussy, letting him know silently you approve of his advances.

No one has seemed to notice what's happening beneath the blanket, and that's for the best. Jeno's eyes widen before a smirk forms on his face, the thumb of his hand circling your inner thigh, sending another shockwave through you, causing you to whimper ever so quietly. You thank the universe that no one is paying attention to you right now.

Your core is beginning to clench, craving the familiar feeling of Jeno's fingers touching you, filling you. It's been far too long since you've had him, but god do you miss him, need him.

Another quiet whimper slips from your lips when you see him bite his lip. This guy is fucking torturing you right now. How does he have the self control to be doing this right now with the others so close and him being right next to your brother? Your face is a deep red and is very thankful that the lights have been shut off to mask it.

“Hey, Jeno,” Jaemin said.

You snap out of it as Jaemin begins speaking. Jeno stops his hand from going any further, much to your dismay, and hums in acknowledgment.

“You’re back for good right? Like, living in Korea permanently?” Jaemin asked.

Jeno sits up straight, stretching his arms over his head before glancing down at you, then answering your brother. "Yeah. I've got all my stuff in order and moved back here for good a few days ago."

Your eyes scan Jeno's body for the hundredth time. Even now in the dim lighting, you can't help but drink him in.

God, his hands. The hands that had just been gripping you firmly are now running themselves through his thick hair. It's grown longer since the last time you saw him.

Stop. You mentally scold yourself before you let yourself drown any further into thoughts of him touching you and marking you as his, his moans filling your ear, his deep voice groaning as he–

"For real? Need a girlfriend? I have a cousin that might work out," Mark's voice drags you out of your little fantasy. "She's your type, or what I'm told is."

Jeno shakes his head. "I'm not exactly looking. You know? After just getting settled and all, I need time to figure things out. Work is becoming increasingly busy with a new branch of the company being established. It's really taking its toll. Not to mention having to move back, pack and unpack... Yeah, dating is far from the back of mind. Right now I'm just worried about-"

"Work," the rest of the group finishes his sentence for him and erupt into fits of laughter. You feel yourself laughing along with everyone, even though all you want right now is his hand to slide up under the shorts and rub circles onto your clit like the good boy you know he is. You know damn well he'd do it without a second thought. But the other six men being so near have you biting the bullet and refraining yourself from jumping on him, hoping the movies end soon. You'll just have to wait.

"It's already past one, guys. Do you all plan on sleeping here tonight?" you ask.

Renjun stretches out onto the floor, and you hear a loud popping sound emit from his bones. "I don't feel like moving. Let me crash here tonight. Pretty please?"

"Same. I don't have the energy to walk back," Haechan groans loudly.

Jaemin huffs and shoves both of the sleepy men off of him. "Alright alright. Stay, the more the merrier. It'll be like a giant sleepover."

"The moment you all get loud, I'm kicking you all out." you stand, stretching and yawning loudly, the volume from the tv now muted. "See ya tomorrow. I'm gonna go to bed."

As soon as the words leave your lips, the seven guys all begin pleading with you to watch another movie, which only prompts you to yawn again. You shake your head as you walk down the hall, ignoring them.

Their voices become background noise as you step into your room and shut the door behind you. Flopping onto your bed, the silence gives you a second to breathe, relax your mind after what had happened mere moments ago.

Your hand subconsciously trails to the spot that Jeno had his hand on before being rudely interrupted. You moan softly at the feeling of your fingertips on your throbbing clit. The hunger inside you is screaming to be satiated, but you decide you can hold out, at least for a couple more hours.

Instead of dwelling on the fact that your fling is in the other room, you flip to your side and start playing music on your phone, hoping the lyrics can put you into a deep sleep until morning. You cuddle under the covers and close your eyes, feeling the tiredness overcome your senses. The moment your eyes fall shut, your phone begins buzzing from somewhere above you.

You feel around under the blankets, nearly losing your hearing when a screech leaves the speakers. Tilting your screen towards you, a message from none other than the one guy you've been trying so desperately to forget appears before your eyes. Your heart flutters once you begin reading.

Jeno: In the living room, trying my best not to pop a boner thinking about what we started earlier. And about what you tasted like months ago when I shoved my cock down your throat, and what your face looks like when you cum.

You: Bold of you to assume I don't have a vibrator nestled between my legs right now, wishing it was you fucking me instead.

Without hesitation, you hit send, biting your bottom lip, hoping your tease will get some sort of response out of the other. The three little bubbles appear almost instantly, giving you a moment of anticipation.

Jeno: Keep your bedroom door unlocked and don't touch yourself until I'm touching you.

Oh boy. You toss your phone aside after reading and lay still in your bed, attempting to follow Jeno's wishes. A few minutes have passed by the time a quiet knock reaches your ears. You hop off the mattress, hurrying to the door. Slowly, you crack the door, peering out to see Jeno standing in the hallway, and all the guys' snores reaching your ears. Without hesitating, you pull him in, shutting the door softly and locking it.

His arms snake their way around your waist, pulling you into his chest and his lips press onto yours. Immediately, you lean into him, your tongue flicking across his, causing him to let out a slight grunt. You knew he missed this, and you had been too.

But at this moment, it's him and it's you.

The moonlight and the blue light from the LED strips adorning the top edge of the walls allows you to make out his facial features and movements as the two of you separate for a quick moment of air.

The hunger in Jeno's gaze makes you melt on the spot.

"Fuck," Jeno trails a finger down the curve of your cheek and across your lips. "I missed you so bad."

A warmth spreads throughout your body. It's been awhile, but nothing has really changed between the two of you. Despite the multiple guys you hooked up with while you were back in Seoul, they didn't do it for you the way Jeno did. They may have taken care of you physically, but none of them have made you feel the way he has. None of them can be a tender fuck buddy, switching roles and putting their needs aside just for you. The thought brings back old memories of the year abroad and the numerous times the both of you have met, making your core pulse with need.

With a finger under your chin, he lifts your head and the two of you lock eyes. With every word you speak, a puff of warm air leaves your lips and hits the skin of his face. 

"Then show me how bad," you say, biting your bottom lip.

An animalistic look forms on his face when the words reach his ears. A second passes and then his lips are crashing onto yours, his tongue fighting yours for dominance and your teeth scraping at one another, breathing hard and desperate for more. You tug at the fabric of his shirt, hands sliding up his abdomen to remove the piece of cloth from his body and allow your nails to trail their way back down and stop right at the edge of his pants. You pull away with a mischievous smile on your face.

"Someone's needy," Jeno taunts, leaning into you to nip your earlobe.

You allow him to guide you over to your bed and push you down. He takes a moment to just soak you in, his eyes drinking in every inch of your body, and when his gaze lands on the small sliver of your panties poking out from beneath your large shirt, he swallows hard.

"Please, Jeno," your soft, hushed voice pierces the heavy tension in the air. "I need you so bad."

Your lustful whine combined with the sight of you laying before him has his hard member pulsing and aching to be touched.

"Shit," he curses, slowly unzipping his jeans and letting them pool at his ankles. A low groan leaves him at the sight of his growing bulge. "Look what you've done to me, princess."

You lick your lips and slide your hips closer to the edge of the bed and sit up, face to face with his clothed cock. "May I?"

"You know you don't have to ask, right?" His thumb swipes a piece of hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear. "Go on, baby. I want that pretty mouth around me."

You shoot him a shy grin and waste no time removing his briefs. His erection pops out, and a shuddering gasp falls from your lips. God, this man is the walking embodiment of a god. You immediately take him in your hand, earning a low moan from Jeno. A hand is placed onto the top of your head, guiding your lips toward the tip of his cock.

"C'mon, princess," his voice is rough and urgent with need as he taps the tip against your bottom lip. "Open up for me."

Without protest, you obey and part your lips, letting him push himself deeper, sheathing his length in your warm, wet mouth. Your eyes flicker upwards, and you are met with a look of lust in his eyes. He gives you a nod and you let out a groan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the taste of his length against your tongue. His scent fills you with a longing desire that aches at the bottom of your gut.

You slowly wrap your hand around him, squeezing slightly and starting a steady rhythm, drawing soft moans of approval from him as you do so. With each stroke, you run your thumb in little circles around the tip, gathering precum on your finger.

The sound of him becoming undone under your ministrations fills the room.

"F-f-uck," he lets out an audible groan, tangling his fingers in your hair. "Look at you, so eager to swallow all of my cum." His grip on your hair tightens, pulling harshly, earning him a yelp, which travels through his cock and gives him goosebumps.

He has always loved being inside your mouth, watching you take him all the way down your throat, feeling the hot, wet warmth envelope him entirely. The sight of his length disappearing between your perfect lips sends him over the edge. Jeno pulls at the roots of your hair again, his hips slamming forward as his climax comes undone and spilling out into your eager throat.

"Do you want me to return the favor?" He offers sweetly after his orgasm subsides and his length pulls out of your mouth with a pop. You can only answer him with a lazy smile.

After adjusting back onto the bed, you lie there, still, barely having recovered from the intense orgasm that had washed over your body.

"C'mon baby," a chuckle escaped his lips when he heard the sluggish moan you give him when he tugs at your underwear, "these gotta go."

He doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly lift your lower body up for him, the wet spot on the article of clothing clearly visible, and he laughs at the sight of the stained garment.

“If that’s any sign of how bad you want me, then I have to give you what you desire,” Jeno said.

"Fuck, I hate you," you scoff as Jeno removes them at an antagonizing slow pace, slowly driving you mad with lust and longing.

"No you don't," he presses a wet, sloppy kiss to your inner thigh, teasing you. A finger lightly traces the wet mess, which you've made due to the lack of attention down there.

You buck your hips when his lips move further down.

"Be good," Jeno says between kisses. "Don't want the others to wake up now, do you?"

Before you have a chance to answer, his tongue flicks at your entrance, and a loud moan reverberates through the room. You clasp your hand over your mouth, muffling your screams of pleasure. His tongue keeps up a delicious pace, hitting just the right places as his mouth works magic. His name slips off the tip of your tongue, breathless and strangled, as if his mouth was stealing your breath. The flat side of his tongue slowly teases you as he applies light pressure on your clit. The pressure builds inside you, causing your core to pulse. Your free hand threads itself into his hair, tangling it into knots as you grip it.

"Jeno," your voice is uneven as you moan his name over and over again, "I'm almost there."

"Good," is all you hear before he starts fucking you with his tongue, harder than ever.

"I want you inside me, please," you cry, panting for dear life as your climax approaches faster than ever, "I want you so bad. I've missed you so fucking much-"

Before you finish your sentence, he's flipping your body over so that your ass is in the air, your face buried into the pillow, trying your damned hardest not to make a sound. After finding the condoms that you know are buried inside the third drawer in your dresser, he discards his remaining clothes, swiftly rolls it on, and shoves into you in one thrust, making your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

"Fuck," Jeno growls, pausing when you clench your walls around his cock. "So tight."

You shudder violently, and you have a hard time thinking clearly because he's still pressing his tip right up against that special spot that has you seeing stars. The thrusts of his hips start out slow, deep, and have your body craving for more. He snaps his hips, and your eyes widen.

"Oh, Jeno, there," you cry, "there. Oh, fuck.."

Jeno continues to slide his girthy cock in and out, continuously hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over again. Each of his strokes is perfectly timed with the grinding of your hips. All your feelings are completely amplified, sending shocks throughout your entire body with each pump of his hips. It isn't long before Jeno feels the familiar tension building, and you feel your walls closing around him once again. The thrusting of his hips grow faster, deeper, and sloppier until you and him reach the precipice at the same time.

He keeps going for a few more thrusts before he eventually comes to a halt. Jeno presses his forehead into your back, his breath labored and his voice groggy and thick with satisfaction and pleasure. "Fuck, sweetheart." His body presses fully into yours before you feel a warm liquid spurt inside the latex around his dick, a wetness between your thighs that was there beforehand.

Once the two of you have managed to catch your breath, Jeno slides himself out of you, quickly disposing of the rubber. Jeno moves to your side, looking you over, his eyes lidded and satisfied, your hair tousled and sticking out everywhere, your face flushed.

He slides the sheets over both of you and settles himself, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and wrapping an arm around your bare torso. You rest your chin onto his messy black locks, the faint scent of the conditioner from his previous shower lingering around him.

You feel the sleepiness hit your body, as does it in Jeno's.

"Hey," you whisper, and he grunts in acknowledgement, eyes still shut as his breathing calms and his expression relaxes. "Jeno?"

"Hm? Yeah? What is it?" His eyes open just a bit, peering at you.

"I was wondering," you trail off, eyes staring up at the ceiling, "since you're staying in Seoul for good...can we continue, well, whatever the fuck it is we're doing?"

It takes him a minute, but he turns himself onto his back and cracks an eye open, looking up at the ceiling the same way you were seconds ago.

A loud yawn interrupts him and you bite the inside of your cheek, a nervousness creeping in.

"Yes, for sure. I'm down if you are," the tone of his voice makes a warm and fuzzy feeling burst in your stomach. "It's been over a year and we haven't stopped. No reason why it should." 

He trails off and tilts his head to look at your face and meets your eyes. "What about your brother? Won't he notice? Be suspicious?"

You sigh and run a finger across his chest. "I'm not ready to tell Jaemin. Don't know when I'm ever gonna be."

You hadn't told him or anyone about the fling and had no plans on it for a while.

Jeno shifts his body weight, the other side of him settling against your chest. He wraps his arms around your body and hums slowly. "When it happens, it happens. We can deal with it then."

And with that, you lean into him and finally succumb to a deep slumber.

“When it happens, we’ll talk to him,” Jeno said.

"You're spending a lot of time with Jeno, lately," Haechan leans his hip onto your bedroom doorway, a playful smirk forming.

It's been several weeks since Jeno's first night here in your house, and not a single moment has gone by that you haven't both had your hands all over each other.

For some odd reason, despite the obvious suspicion and careful remarks from the others, the two of you haven't been busted for what you're doing.

It's a Saturday evening, and you and the guys are getting ready to head out for drinks together. The last to finish getting ready, you were finishing up the last touches of your makeup before turning around.

“Huh?” you asked.

He flashes a suspicious smile at you. "You. Jeno."

"What about us?" Your tone is full of caution and defense. "Are we not allowed to? Lastly, I remember you guys are his friends too."

"Ya'll fucking, aren't you?" Haechan raises an eyebrow at you.

"Please don't tell Jaemin," it takes you a few moments of gathering the words to respond to him and when you do, the plea is pathetic and desperate.

"For real? I was just joking, not actually asking if it was true–" Haechan blinks. "Damn, Y/N. Never took you to be this kinda woman."

"I have a history with him, you know," you slap Haechan's arm with the back of your hand. "A very, very dirty history. Not a lot of people are privy to it."

Haechan feigns a shocked gasp. "Do tell."

Your gaze becomes downcast, almost as though you are trying to hide from him, but he already knows too much.

"Seriously. Don't tell the others," the last thing you need is another set of idiots hounding you about it.

Haechan moves closer, keeping his eyes on you.

"If they find out, you're fucking screwed. Especially your brother," he shakes his head, a frown visible on his lips. "Are you two at least being safe?"

“We’ve always kept it safe. Haven’t slipped up in that department and I intend for it not to happen,” you reassured him.

Haechan releases the breath he didn't know he was holding and sighs deeply. He wasn't planning on pressuring you into spilling your heart out, nor did he want you to feel uncomfortable or obliged to give him a full play by play. You are a grown woman, able to take care of yourself and make the decisions you want. So why should he try to dictate or change your mind, or worse, your lifestyle?

"Look. As long as he makes you happy and isn't hurting you, I support you," he places a soft hand on top of your head and smiles widely.

That alone warms your heart. Haechan was never one to pry or gossip. This side of him never ceased to amaze you.

"Thank you," you breathe and return his smile, feeling your mood perk up again.

"Sure. But!" He snaps his fingers. Your smile turns into a playful pout. "You guys have to be more careful and figure your shit out. I can't promise you my silence when things go sideways, alright?"

"Right," you said and playfully smacked Haechan's shoulder with a laugh. "Now can we head to the damn bar?"

After pulling on an oversized jacket, the two of you walk out into the hallway where the rest of the gang has been waiting for the longest five minutes of their life.

"Fucking finally," Renjun stretches his legs. "Can we go now?"

You quickly duck down and slip your shoes on, smoothing out any wrinkles in your outfit. You try not to pay attention to Jeno, who watched you closely, especially how your jeans cling perfectly to the outline of your body.

The drive is longer than anticipated, leaving plenty of time to chat with your companions, and after nearly a half hour, you finally arrive and everyone hurries to exit the van, running up to the entrance. The bouncer flashes a warm smile upon recognizing you and the others, allowing them to walk in without much hassle.

Renjun quickly finds an empty booth for all of you to occupy, and the others quickly follow suit, plopping down and shoving each other over and over until there is room for everyone. Jeno finds his seat right next to you, leaning back against his seat, his arm sneakingly sliding over the leather surface to settle behind the back of your neck. A drink is placed in front of the both of you a few minutes later and the guys get lost in their conversations, ignoring everyone else but each other.

Jeno's arm stays put behind you while you play on your phone, having some casual conversation with the guys here and there. Jaemin glances your way, noting how close Jeno is to you, not saying a single word. He raises his eyebrows questioningly and continues chattering with Mark. The looks Jaemin shoots you and Jeno doesn't go unnoticed, and Haechan elbows you. You and Jeno take that as your signal to stop behaving so foolishly, so you put some distance between your bodies, the arm behind your neck retreating and his body leaning in to speak quietly.

"Alright, I'm going for round three," Chenle announces, a satisfied groan as he empties his beer bottle and rises to his feet. He glances toward his left, motioning to you with his hand and you nod your head. You rise from the booth, moving aside to let him out. "Wanna come with, Y/N?"

You shuffle out behind him. "Why not?"

With that, you and the younger walk your way to the bar and get the bartenders' attention. After ordering and paying, the two of you linger at the counter, having a few moments alone to converse.

"So," he begins, tapping his nails against the surface and clicking his tongue, "you and Jeno, huh?"

A look of amusement creeps its way across Chenle's features, his expression holding a mix of something else that you can't quite identify. The latter sits in the middle of the table, hands under his chin, contemplating how exactly to handle the conversation.

"Is it that obvious?" your eyes widen, your voice a breathy whisper.

"Come on. Anyone within a mile could tell," Chenle chuckles and shrugs, not meaning any harm or judgment behind the tone he's taken with you.

"Shit, shit, shit," you slap a palm against your face and peek in between your fingers, catching a glimpse of Chenle's contagious smile. "First Haechan and now you? God, I'm fucked, aren't I?"

Chenle lifts himself from the stool and settles next to you, a friendly smile on his face. The mood around him softens immediately and his aura is enough to calm you, to lift a weight from your shoulders. He doesn't mean any ill-will, afterall.

"Look, Y/N. Nobody will think negatively of you. Jaemin will probably say shit because he's your brother but if you like Jeno, like actually like him, then go for him," his words are genuine, his thoughts pure of concern for a friend.

He does have a point. Things aren't quite simple and clear when it comes to the situation between you and Jeno, however, this would definitely end things for good. No more sneaking around or secret meetings.

No more worrying.

"So, will you tell him?" Chenle asks you gently, placing his hand upon yours with reassurance. "You can't keep this going if it isn't working. You owe that to yourself. Jeno, too."

You muster the courage and exhale a shaky sigh. "Maybe. I'll try."

When the two of you return, the rest of your company has made themselves scarce around the place, spread out around and dancing wildly, yelling in each other's faces, drinking and drinking to drown whatever feelings they were struggling with at the present moment. The place begins to fill with even more patrons, causing it to become cramped, your nerves and anxiety to rise and rise and rise until you can barely manage a calm facial expression.

Jeno pulls you down onto the seat next to him, his lips next to your ear, husky voice rumbling in his chest. "You ok, princess? Wanna sit for a few?"

You nod, appreciating the thoughtfulness he's put into trying to comfort you.The tension leaves your body when he lets a hand rest over yours in the space between you two. "Yeah, thank you, Jeno." 

"Been thinking 'bout you for a little," Jeno flashes his eyes towards you, a small, teasing smile growing. "Maybe a few things have been popping in my head..."

"Mhm," the corner of your lip lifts as you smirk. "Care to elaborate, or?"

"Nah," Jeno answers smoothly, pulling you a little bit closer. "It's a conversation that we can have later."

You roll your eyes playfully. "Why don't we get out of here?"

Jeno hums again. "And if the guys notice?"

"I don't care any more," you looked at him. You realized there was no need to hold back anything anymore. "All I want is you, Jeno. And I'm done hiding us."

Jeno shifts to get a better look at your face, the warmth of your skin touching his in the crowded, bustling bar. He presses his palm against the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "Let's get out of here then."

Grabbing a few scattered items lying on the table, the two of you get up from the seats and, taking your hands in his, move to exit the bar with no resistance or arguments coming your way, an enormous sigh of relief passing from your lungs.

"C'mon, sweetheart," he whispers against your ear. A small shiver creeps up your spine. "I got you."

You quickly meet a brisk and cold night's air the instant the two of you step outside, the crickets making a loud chirping sound as Jeno and you speed walk back towards the direction of his vehicle. Once arriving and getting in, Jeno reaches over and buckles you in, his free hand cradling the base of your skull when you lean forward to give him a heated and needy kiss, sucking the bottom of his lips harshly. The instant he shuts his door, Jeno reaches for your face, tilting it toward his, kissing you with urgency, deep and searching, an almost desperation underlying in the action. The way he looks at you after parting his lips from yours, dark irises staring into your soul, almost makes your breath stop altogether.

"Now will you tell me?" you ask quietly.

"When we get home. I'll tell you," he tells you as he backs out of the parking spot. The corners of his mouth quirk. "And I'll show you, too."

It doesn't take the two of you long to get to his place, the ride quiet and short, barely a car in sight in front or behind Jeno's. Pulling into his driveway, Jeno drives right up and parks the car, killing the ignition and taking a breath before moving. Unbuckling and exiting his door, you meet Jeno near the entrance, keys jingling as he unlocks and opens the heavy metal, letting you walk in first. After stepping foot in, the cool air conditioning hits, causing a small shiver.

"Chilly?" Jeno walks into his kitchen and heads towards a cabinet, grabbing two mugs and the bag of green tea that Jaemin bought for him as a gift, as a welcoming token. "Want me to turn up the heater?"

You nod and rub your hands together in a feeble attempt to warm yourself.

"Yeah, if that's not a problem," you plop onto his couch, draping the throw blanket over yourself. It wasn't even a second later before he's bringing the hot cups of tea and sitting down next to you, a steam of minty, earthy and comforting smell flowing from the mugs. You took a whiff and let the warm and flavorful aroma relax you. The warmth that travels through you isn't just from the liquid.

"Better?" Jeno rests his mug on the coffee table in front and draws you to his chest. The heat from his body keeps you warm and you let yourself get lost in it. "Nice?"

"Much. Thanks," you cuddle into his shoulder. "Now are you gonna explain or are you gonna keep dancing around the subject?"

He laughs, a loud and airy one, his laugh lines crinkling, his nose scrunching. Your stomach does that familiar flipping thing as you try your best not to blush like a crazy person and curl yourself into a ball right here and now. "I know when we first agreed to this thing it was only gonna be sex, y'know?"

You chuckle under your breath, suddenly finding a loose string on his hoodie rather interesting as you toy with it.

"The thing is…" Jeno begins. "This...us? Fuck. We've been doing this thing for a full year. The sex is nice, so nice, but I find myself missing every other damn thing you do. What you sound like when you first wake up. How cute you look when you sleep, and when you laugh. Just being around you. Damn. And honestly-" His hands land on top of yours, the tingles settling in, the warmth growing. You feel his heart quicken in his chest, thumping loudly and so hard you feel it about to burst. He clears his throat. "The fact is...Y/N, I've been madly, deeply in love with you for a damn long time, and it's impossible for me not to fall deeper and deeper, because you are so beautiful and amazing that it makes my chest fucking burst sometimes and–"

He's stopped mid sentence by your finger gently pressing over his lips, your cheeks glowing.

"Jeno," you breathed. "You have no idea how long I've wanted you, truly wanted you. Ever since I came home from overseas, you've been the one person in this damn world I've been thinking about. Like nonstop. No one else comes close. The feelings, they're mutual, Jeno, for real." 

Your throat tightens, your emotions spilling out before you could control yourself. "I'm pretty fucking sure I'm in love with you, Lee Jeno. Fucking love you. All of you. Every single bit of you. And I don't care if Jaemin or the world knows that."

You take your finger away, allowing him to speak. 

"Then be with me," he leans forward and presses a tender and slow kiss to your lips, so sweet that it sends a delightful flutter in the pit of your stomach. He parts for just a moment to press another tender kiss to your neck, then another higher up. "Let's give this a shot. Officially. Because I'm very fucking in love with you. For the last year I haven't stopped thinking about you, all the sweet little things you do for me, the late night chats, the mornings I get to wake up with you and talk to you."

He smiles down at you, all boyish, but that dimple of his is undeniably adorable. You've always been fascinated by it. It's the first thing that attracted you to him the first time the two of you met.

You don't say a word as you cup his face and bring his lips down onto yours, this kiss much more eager and a bit forceful, so passionate you almost gasp and whine from the sensation of it. He reaches an arm up and tangles it in your hair, bringing your mouths closer and closer.

Pulling away after what seems like hours, your breathing becomes labored, heavy, and Jeno stands, placing both hands under you and carrying you to his room, your arms draped around his neck and a shy smile playing on his lips.

"God, I'm in so much trouble," he sets you down on the bed.

"Yeah?" you stare up at him from where you lie on the mattress.

"Fuck yes," he shakes his head in amazement, still staring at you as though you've cast a spell upon him and there's no turning back from this.

You spread your legs and motion for him to join. Jeno settles himself above you, his weight resting between your legs and on his arms that he keeps next to your head, staring deeply into your eyes. He leans down and you tilt your head to capture his lips, whimpering slightly, the noise making him groan and your stomach tightens in anticipation.

"Mhm, and how much are you in trouble?" you mumble against his lips.

Jeno doesn't respond, only kisses your lips with such vigor and intensity you let out an airy whine, deepening the kiss. With expert hands, he undressed you, tugging your clothes off piece by piece, lips pressed into every patch of exposed skin. Once you're completely bare and laid bare under him, you could see Jeno swallow the lump that formed in his throat, pupils blown wide and wanting and full of lust and wonder. He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his index and traces it across your cheek.

"For starters," Jeno lets out, eyes wandering from the top of your head, the downcast gaze slowly going to the valley of your chest and lower and lower until your abdomen. He hums appreciatively and smirks when he comes back up. 

"You have the most beautiful face." His other hand comes up to stroke your hair softly. "Most beautiful lips, most beautiful skin." Jeno tucks your hair behind your ear and leans closer.

"So you only fell in love with my beauty?" you jest, earning a teasing nip from him.

"Such a sassy mouth," Jeno tugs your ear. "Definitely more."

"Then don't just say that and show me what that trouble is all about," you sit up and give him a push. Jeno's quick to obey as he flips you on top of him, hands moving to rub and grope your ass, hips circling to meet his. Your fingers are under his shirt and lifting it to pull it over his head. Your fingers work his belt buckle and buttons of his jeans, his briefs quickly following and joining your clothes on his floor. He sits back and watches you with a lascivious gaze.

"Go on," you order gently. "Tell me more. I wanna hear what kind of trouble I cause you."

Your voice takes Jeno's body prisoner as you speak in a seductive, smoky tone, whispering and purring in his ear as you press the pad of your middle finger against the middle of his chest, rubbing slowly downward and leaving a trail of tingly goosebumps, a breathless groan coming from his throat.

"Do I have to?" he throws his head back, sighing blissfully when you run both hands down his sides, brushing the tip of your thumbs under his collar bones and digging them in, relishing the little hisses and grunts. Jeno lets you handle his body the way you want, turning his body at will and pulling and pushing him, settling on top of his torso as you drag the blunt fingernails of your index finger, lightly down his abdomen and chuckling. "Baby, you're driving me insane right now."

"That's the point," you reply smugly.

"Do what you want," Jeno lays back, defeated.

"Yeah?" He's mesmerized the second your fingers intertwine with his, the intensity and chemistry sparking between the two of you burning and heavy with raw arousal, and he loves every fucking second of it. Loves that you've allowed him the opportunity to love and indulge in a human like you. You settle down on his thighs, the heat of the fire pooling below, his length twitching and hardening to life. "Trouble's gonna be fucking huge."

Jeno's laughing at your silly behavior and your hands running along every crevice of his body. It's all so warm and sweet and pleasant and just feels so damn right and-

"You're my fucking trouble, Jeno," you swipe your tongue over his jaw. "Only you and you alone."

"You're my trouble too, sweetheart," he responds smoothly, voice thick and raspy. "Everything about you is trouble and there's no looking back."

He tilts his head and plants a tender kiss to your parted lips, this time with no sense of hurry or hurry. It's an act of affection and honesty. You feel yourself melt in his palms and inside the recess of his heart. You could stay like this, here with Jeno, forever.

You'd gladly welcome a future with him.

You place your forehead against Jeno's, hands holding his jaw as he runs his fingers up and down your bare back. Jeno is everything and more that you've wanted and more. With every touch and soft kiss, a rush runs through you, an electricity in the air.  You slowly lowered yourself on his shaft, feeling yourself clench around him, sighing his name.

"I'm fine," you answered, rocking your hips back and forth and placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

He's gazing intently in the low light of his room. "Sure?"

Buried to the hilt, you find his hands with yours, entwining them together with ease. They're bigger than yours and your hands fit perfectly around the grooves in his palms. Jeno rolls his hips into yours slowly. The tingles are back, the sweet sounds of pleasure elicited from his lips sending your heart on an endless beat. "Yeah, I'm more than sure."

With a firm and steady grasp on your hips and the curve in your backside, the pair of you become one. The motion of your bodies blends in perfect synchrony and all other noises fade. You can feel the ecstasy as his cock slips in and out with every grind of your hips. He leans forward, brushing your nose before angling his mouth to meet yours. It's a deep, emotional kiss; Jeno holds you tenderly while you gently caress the nape of his neck. As his lips move with yours, his cock presses in deeper and you're unable to resist moaning. It's a delicious rhythm that fills your senses. You'll remember his gentle thrusting for the rest of your life, each movement slow, allowing the sensation to build. Jeno feels too good and you can't help yourself from breaking away and gasping his name into the silence.

"That's my girl," Jeno trails his teeth along your collarbone. You grab at his back, sure that the scratches will leave a mark or two. You don't want to imagine it ending. You grip his ass with one hand and encourage the tempo of his hips.

You continue rocking with him, wanting it to last, savouring the feel. His pace builds in intensity as the need builds, the thickness filling you so nicely. He continues with long and even strokes. With his cock driving in and out of you at a tantalizing speed, you could feel your own need for release rising. 

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking amazing," he breathes. The pleasure is exquisite and you whimper. 

"J-Jeno, oh my god..." your moans rise in pitch as you get lost in the sensations and reach the highest peak of bliss, waves of orgasmic shudders rolling through you, and his name spilling from your lips.

"Come on, cum for me baby. Come for me, princess, just like that. Good girl," Jeno groans when you release, burying your nails into his scalp, your walls tightening around him and his cock still deep inside.

Waves crash through Jeno as his hot seed hits your wall, filling you up, a final curse falling from his lips. He holds your head and sighs heavily. His heart pounds as he holds you, a reassuring palm resting between your shoulder blades. He collapses back on the bed, bringing you down on his chest, listening to the heavy, ragged pants as you recover from your high.

When the moment settles and you can think coherently again, Jeno lifts himself up to lean against the bedrest while you perch your chin upon his pec, hands roaming along the contours of his shoulders and upper body, eyes fixated and mesmerized by him, eyes almost glossed over.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Hey there," you respond breathlessly.

A large hand moves the strands of sweat slicked hair plastered to your face. His touch is a little ticklish on your skin and you resist the temptation to wriggle away.

"Thirsty? I know I'm really thirsty," Jeno grins when you nod and sigh, and walks out of his bedroom stark naked and ready to fetch drinks for the two of you. The sound of his bare feet patting down the hallway fills the room as you stretch and throw yourself back on the pillows and his scent. It's him. Nothing else but him.

Just Jeno.

Minutes later he returns with a cold glass of water for you, helping you sit up and urging you to take it all. A pleased, content moan is expelled as he drinks his beverage.

“Feel better now?” Jeno asked.

You nod. He climbs back into bed, reaching over to place his own cup on the nightstand.

"Now come here and let's cuddle," he spreads his arms for you to curl up in them.

"Scooch over then," you commanded.

"Scooch?" he asks incredulously and laughs.

"Yes," you position yourself against his body, loving the way his muscular body curves around and around. "You and your massive shoulders are too wide and there's barely enough room on this bed. Scooch and cuddle me."

His laugh shakes you, making you join in the fun, a happy, airy tingle zinging up and down your spine.

"So bossy," Jeno complains, though his hand is warm on your lower back and his chin is hooked on top of your head. 

You love this position because you get to use the strong planes of his body like a pillow, nestling between the nooks and crannies of him. "And you love it."

"Mhm, yeah." A blanket is drawn up over the two of you and you settle in, nose rubbing in the hollow of his neck, comfort and the calming presence of Jeno lulling you to sleep. "I really do."

[wendichester]

anything with teen!dean, thank uu ❤️❤️

⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ practice makes perfect,

summary. dean finds out you never really had your first kiss. he's determined to change that for you. platonically so, of course.

pairing. teen!dean winchester x reader genre. giggling

wordcount. 569

notes / warnings. teen awkwardness and butterflies, both dean and reader are 16yo, first kiss sos !!! mutual pining, hallway loitering, staring, locker flirting. i absolutely love teen dean. i'd commit crimes for this concept.

ᯓ★ heavily inspired by this c.ai bot!

You don’t mean to say it.

It just kind of... slips out, right between bites of gummy worms and an overdramatic story about gym class.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

You instantly regret it.

Dean pauses mid-chew, turns to you slowly with those ridiculous green eyes. “Wait. Seriously?”

You groan and pull your hoodie over your face. “Forget I said anything.”

“No, no—hang on,” he says, grinning now, teasing. “You, Y/N, have never kissed anyone?”

“Stop making it a federal offense!”

“I’m not! I’m just—damn. That’s wild.”

You peek out of the hoodie. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dean shrugs, flopping back against your bedroom wall like this is the most casual sleepover in the world. (He’s not supposed to be here past curfew, but the guy has zero respect for adult-imposed time limits.)

“You’re, like... cute. I figured someone would’ve made a move by now.”

Your heart stutters. Dean says things like that sometimes—little compliments, offhand comments that leave your stomach in knots for the rest of the week—but he never means anything by them. Probably.

“Well, no one did,” you say, shrugging like you’re not haunted by school dances. “And now it’s this big thing and I’m gonna die alone with zero experience.”

Dean chuckles. “You’re sixteen. Chill.”

“Says the guy who’s probably kissed, like, twenty girls.”

“I wouldn’t say twenty…” he drawls, smirking.

You throw a gummy worm at him. “Ugh. I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t. Not even a little.

There’s a long pause. He’s fiddling with one of your bracelets that slipped off your wrist. Then he says it:

“I could teach you.”

You blink. “What?”

He clears his throat, suddenly looking a little pink around the ears. “I mean—if you wanna. Like, just so it’s not this scary mystery thing anymore.”

Your stomach free-falls. “You’d do that?”

Dean shrugs again, trying way too hard to look cool. “Sure. As friends.”

Friends. Right.

“Okay,” you whisper, because you’re a disaster. “Yeah. Sure.”

He shifts to face you, sitting cross-legged now, knees barely touching yours. His expression sobers a little.

“You good?”

“Terrified,” you admit, laughing nervously.

Dean smiles—soft, not cocky this time. “Just follow my lead, alright?”

You nod.

He leans in slow, like he’s afraid to spook you. And then... your lips meet.

It’s gentle. A little unsure. But it’s warm and careful and sweet, and nothing like you expected—because it doesn’t feel like practice at all.

When he pulls back, there’s a beat of silence.

Then:

“…Was that okay?” he asks, voice low.

You open your eyes. “Yeah,” you breathe. “That was…”

Dean’s staring at you like you’ve just knocked the wind out of him.

“Damn,” he says.

“What?”

He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. “Nothing, I just—wasn’t expecting you to be that good.”

You snort. “You literally are my first kiss.”

“Yeah, but still. Like. Beginner’s luck or something.” He fidgets. Doesn’t meet your eyes. “Or maybe I just... really liked it.”

Your heart skips several essential beats.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He scratches his cheek, cheeks red. “That felt kinda real. For practice, I mean.”

You’re quiet for a second. Then you smile.

“Maybe we should practice again. Just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.”

Dean laughs, eyes lighting up. “Yeah. Totally. For science.”

You both lean in again, and this time you’re not nervous.

Because you think—you know—he might have a big fat crush too.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[drippingghoneyy]

No Touching - Vander x Fem!Reader

Summary:  You worked at the bar, alongside Vander, for a few years now.  Everyone knew the silent agreement that anyone who dared to get too close to you, answered to Vander. One man got a little brave, so Vander makes the rules clear.

Genre/ Pairing: Smut, Friends-to-lovers, Vander x Fem!Reader 

WARNINGS: MDNI!, SMUT 18+, Smoking/Drinking, Crying, BigDick!Vander, tension, teasing, dom/sub dynamics, pet names, piv, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, oral sex ( f receiving),... (lmk if I missed any!)

Word Count: 9.2k.

Notes: I’ve been wanting to write about more people! So give me suggestions!

Reblog and like!! I read every comment, they make my whole day! 

If you find any spelling errors, no you didn't. Grammarly don’t fail me now 🙂 If you don't like nsfw content, please don't read it!

The neon lights outside the bar flickered erratically, casting a sickly glow on the sidewalk. Inside, the air had the mingled scents of cheap whiskey, sweat, and the faint hint of burnt popcorn.

It was a Friday night, and the usual mix of locals and travelers packed the place, the chatter and laughter bouncing off the sticky wooden floors and stained walls. You glanced at the clock. It was almost closing time, and the anticipation of the weekend buzzed through the room like an electrical current.

You wove through the crowd, tray balanced precariously on one hand, delivering drinks with the ease of a seasoned dancer. The rhythm of the music pulsed in your veins, a silent metronome to the chaotic dance of your shift. The regulars greeted you with knowing smiles, and the newcomers with hopeful glances, trying to catch your eye. It was a game you played, flirting without meaning it, serving with a touch of charm that kept the tips flowing.

"Coming right up, sweetie," you called out to a customer, placing a frosty mug of beer in front of him with a flourish. The foam bubbled over the rim and he laughed, catching the overflow with his mouth. You winked in response, then spun away to grab the next round from Vander. He nodded in approval, a half-smile playing on his lips as he poured drinks with a practiced hand.

The children, the ones you had practically raised alongside the patrons, had already retreated to the back, their giggles and whispers echoing through the bar like a ghostly chorus. They knew the routine—once the sun dipped below the horizon on a Friday night, they had to make themselves scarce. They had their own world of tricks and games to navigate, leaving you and Vander to handle the adult one.

Vander's eyes met yours over the sea of heads, and you could feel the weight of his gaze even amidst the cacophony. His expression was a silent question, checking in to make sure you were okay. You nodded, a quick reassurance that you had everything under control, before diving back into the fray. The music grew louder, the laughter more raucous, and the lights dimmer as the night progressed. The energy was palpable, a heady mix of excitement and anticipation that fueled your every movement.

You loved weekend nights like this. The bar was alive with the throb of bass and the clink of glasses, the air thick with the promise of stories waiting to be told. Each person you served had a different tale etched into their features, their eyes telling silent narratives of triumphs and heartaches. You moved among them like a social butterfly, placing a gentle hand on a shoulder here, sharing a knowing smile there. Your touch was light, a whisper of comfort in the chaos.

But as the clock ticked closer to midnight, the atmosphere grew more volatile. A man, three drinks too many, began to leer at you, his gaze lingering on your curves in a way that made your skin crawl. He called you "sweetheart," and "babe," his voice slurred and too loud in your ear. You tried to ignore him, but his hand found your waist, his grip tightening as he leaned closer, his breath hot and unwelcome against your neck. Your smile faltered for a fraction of a second, and you felt a flicker of fear in your belly.

You searched the room for Vander, hoping he would notice, but he was busy with a rowdy group at the other end of the bar. The man's hand traveled higher, and you swallowed a gasp. But before you could react, a firm grip clamped down on his wrist, and you felt a jolt of relief as Vander's voice boomed over the din, "You don't wanna do that, buddy."

The man looked up, his eyes glazed and surprised, but the grip didn't loosen. Vander's smile had turned to a snarl, and you knew from experience that was the only warning he'd give. 

You stepped away, heart racing, watching as Vander dragged the man to his feet and out of the bar, the crowd parting like the Red Sea for Moses. The music didn't stop, but the volume seemed to drop as the patrons' eyes followed the scene unfolding before them. You could hear the thud of fists and the grunt of pain outside, the sound of the man being taught a very clear lesson.

This wasn't the first time someone had overstepped, but it was the first time in a while. Usually, the regulars knew better than to lay a hand on you. You had an invisible barrier around you, a respect that had grown from years of serving drinks and smiles without ever leading anyone on. 

They knew you were off-limits, even if they didn't know the full story. Vander had made sure of that, his protective aura as much a part of the bar's furniture as the stools and the pool table.

A few new faces would show up every week, not yet privy to the unspoken rule, and they'd try their luck. They'd leer, whisper sweet nothings, and maybe attempt to slip an extra dollar into your apron. But as soon as Vander caught wind of it, they'd be met with a glare that could cut through steel. It was a dance of dominance, a silent communication that sent the message loud and clear: don't touch what isn't yours. And when the music was too loud, or the whiskey too smooth, someone would forget the rules.

The man's hand had been like a brand on your skin, leaving you feeling dirty and exposed. You shivered, despite the warmth of the bar, and took a deep breath to steady your nerves. You could still hear the sounds of the scuffle outside, the thuds and grunts punctuating the night. The crowd had grown hushed, the tension in the air thick enough to slice with a knife. The music played on, but it felt like the bass was thumping in your chest now, a rhythm of fear and adrenaline.

Vander reappeared in the doorway, his knuckles red and raw, a smear of blood on his cheek. The man lay outside, a crumpled mess of pride and regret. The crowd, having witnessed the spectacle, returned to their drinks, murmuring among themselves but keeping a safe distance. They all knew the score—you weren't just another pretty face behind the bar; you were part of the fabric of this place, a sacred piece of its soul, and Vander was its fiercest protector.

The whispers grew louder as Vander approached, a silent wave of respect and fear rippling through the patrons. He'd sent more than one man packing with a bruised ego and a few bruised ribs. It was his way of reminding everyone of the unspoken rule—hands off. His eyes scanned the room, searching for any signs of dissent or discomfort, before finally landing on you. The fury in them softened as he saw the tremble in your hand, the way you gripped the edge of the bar like it was a lifeline.

You had become a local legend of sorts, the enigmatic woman behind the counter who served drinks with a smile but had a line no one dared to cross. It wasn't just Vander's protective nature that kept the peace; it was the aura that clung to you, a mix of sweetness and steel that everyone sensed. You were more than just the bar's employee; you were its heart, the reason some came back night after night. You were the dream they chased, the memory they clung to, the whiskey-soaked mirage that kept them coming back for more.

But tonight had been a close call, the man's touch a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of the bar. You took a shaky breath, trying to shake off the feeling of his hand on your skin. Vander stepped closer, his bulk eclipsing the rest of the room. His hand reached out, not to touch you but to offer support, a gentle gesture that spoke louder than words. You took it, the warmth of his calloused skin grounding you.

"You okay?" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the thump of the music.

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Thanks, Vander."

He nodded back, his eyes dark with anger as the crowd had returned to their conversations, the incident already forgotten, but the memory lingered in the air like the smell of spilled beer. Vander took your tray and nodded towards the back. "Take five. You've earned it."

You slipped through the kitchen, the clank of dishes and the sizzle of grease a stark contrast to the thumping bass outside. The children peeked out from their hiding spot, their wide eyes reflecting a mix of fear and awe. They knew the score, too. They'd seen it play out before, the silent standoffs and the not-so-silent brawls. 

But it was the way Vander looked at you afterward that always sent shivers down their spines. It was a look that said, "You're safe. You're mine." And in that moment, you weren't just the bartender; you were the queen of the night, and he was your knight in faded denim armor.

You took a deep breath, the cool air washing over you like a balm. The scent of the kitchen—spicy and greasy—was a welcome respite from the suffocating tension of the bar. You leaned against the wall, feeling the roughness of the peeling paint against your skin. It was a reminder of reality, a grounding force amidst the chaos. You knew the look Vander gave you was one of concern, but it was tinged with something else—possession, maybe. You weren't just the bar's employee; you were a part of its soul, a piece of its very essence, and he was its fiercest protector.

You'd only been here a few years, but in that time, he'd made it clear that your safety was paramount. He'd thrown men out for less, men who'd been regulars for longer than you'd been old enough to drink. You knew it was because of what you served—not just the whiskey and beer, but the dreams and the comfort, the fleeting moments of companionship that made the hard days bearable. The touch of the man's hand was a violation, a breach of the unspoken contract between bartender and patron.

Straightening your apron and plastering a smile back on your face, you stepped out of the kitchen, the music swelling around you once more. You didn't look at the spot where the man had been, didn't acknowledge the hushed whispers of the patrons. Instead, you made your way back to the bar, your hand brushing against Vander's as you passed. It was a silent thank you, a promise of something unspoken. You knew you could never repay the countless times he'd stepped in to keep you safe, but the touch was all you had to offer in that moment.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of drink orders and laughter, the adrenaline from earlier slowly draining away. But the memory of Vander's touch lingered, a gentle reminder that you weren't alone. His eyes never left you for long, and every time you felt the weight of his gaze, you knew he was watching over you, making sure the invisible barrier remained intact. It was a luxury, that safety, one you hadn't had before you'd stumbled into this job, into his life.

And as the last of the patrons stumbled out into the night, the bar echoing with their drunken goodbyes, you couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude for the towering presence that was as much a fixture of the place as the sticky floorboards.

You'd only been here a few years, but it felt like a lifetime. The bar had become your second home, the regulars your extended family, and Vander, well, he was more than just a co-worker. He was your rock, your shield, the person who had taught you to stand tall and never take crap from anyone.

You knew he had his own demons, his own reasons for being so protective, but you never asked. You didn't need to; his actions spoke louder than any words could. And as the final chords of the jukebox played out, the room empty but for you two, the silence was filled with the unspoken promise of camaraderie and protection.

The children had long ago retreated to their beds, the whispers and giggles replaced by the soft snores of the sleeping. Vander locked the door with a finality that was almost comforting, the heavy thud echoing through the room.

The neon lights outside cast a soft glow through the grimy windows, painting the bar in a palette of pinks and blues. You took a moment to appreciate the quiet, the hum of the fridge, and the ticking of the clock, the only sounds breaking the silence.

You wiped your hands on your apron, the fabric sticking slightly to your palms. The motion was automatic, a ritual performed countless times over the years. But tonight, it felt different—a declaration of strength, a symbol that you were ready to face whatever the night had in store. 

You walked over to Vander, the floorboards creaking under your boots. His eyes searched yours, the concern in them unmistakable. Most people would have shrunk away from such a gaze, but in that moment, you felt an odd comfort in his fierce protection.

You looked up at him, your heart racing from the adrenaline of the evening. He towered over you, his face a mask of hardened steel. Yet, when he looked at you, there was a softness that only you saw. You leaned in, licking the pad of your thumb before gently raising it to the smear of blood on his cheek. Your hand hovered there for a brief second, a silent question in the air. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, and you swiped the blood away with the tender care of an artist cleaning a brush.

The touch was electric, sending a shiver down your spine. You stepped back, the moment lingering, and then turned away to start wiping down the tables. The bar was a mess of spilled drinks and discarded peanut shells, but you tackled the task with renewed vigor, the need to keep moving a balm to your shaking nerves. Each swipe of the cloth was a declaration of normalcy, a silent protest against the ugliness of the world outside the bar's walls.

As you worked, you felt Vander's eyes on you, his presence a comforting warmth at your back. He didn't speak, but his silence was a conversation of its own, a wordless reassurance that he'd always be there, that you were safe. The tension slowly drained from your body as you fell into the rhythm of the task, the sound of the cloth swiping against the wood a soothing lullaby in the quiet after the storm.

When you had finished, the bar gleaming under the low lights, you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the concern in the lines around his eyes. He took a step towards you, closing the gap between you. You didn't flinch, didn't pull away. Instead, you took a deep breath and stepped closer, the air around you crackling with the energy of a thousand unspoken words.

His hand reached up, mirroring your earlier gesture, but instead of blood, he found your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the roughness of his skin. It was as if he was memorizing every contour of your face, committing it to memory in case the night ever came when he couldn't be there to protect it. You leaned into his hand, the warmth of his touch spreading through you like a warm embrace.

"I'm sorry, darlin'. I should've kept a closer eye on you," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate within your very bones. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of distress, of fear. But all he found was a steely determination that made him proud.

You gave a small shake of your head, reaching up to cover his hand with yours. "It's okay, Vander. It's not your fault," you assured him, your voice steady despite the tremor you couldn't quite hide. "But, I appreciate you stepping in."

He nodded, the lines around his eyes deepening as he searched your face for any lingering traces of fear. "It's always gonna be my job to keep you safe," he said firmly, his voice a warm rumble that seemed to fill the space between you. "No one lays a hand on you unless you want them to."

There was a fierce possessiveness in his tone, a promise that sent a shiver down your spine. It was the kind of protectiveness that could be suffocating in the wrong hands, but with Vander, it was comforting. He had never crossed the line, never stepped too far, and you knew he never would. His eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt or discomfort, and when he found none, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

It was a gesture that was as surprising as it was tender, a gentle reassurance that you weren't just another body in the bar. You felt a warmth spread through you, a sense of belonging that was as potent as the whiskey you served. It was in moments like these that you realized just how much he cared, how deeply the bonds between you had grown over the years.

The silence stretched out, filled with the promise of more than just friendship. You knew it was there, the tension that had been building between you, a current that hummed just below the surface of every interaction. But you also knew that now wasn't the time to explore it. There were still dishes to wash, floors to mop, and a bar to close down. So, you stepped back, breaking the spell, and turned to grab the cleaning supplies.

"I'm fine, Vander," you assured him, your voice strong despite the tremble in your hands. "It's part of the job, I guess." You tried to laugh it off, but the sound was hollow, even to your own ears.

Vander's expression softened, his hand sliding down to yours, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. "It's never fine when someone puts their hands on you without permission," he said, his voice low and intense. "I shouldn't have let that happen."

He looked down at the floor, his jaw clenched, as if he was holding back a tide of anger. Then he looked up at you, his eyes searching your face for any trace of fear or upset. "I'm sorry," he murmured, the words heavy with regret. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

The sincerity in his voice was palpable, and you felt your heart swell with affection for this gruff, protective man who had become so much more than just your boss. "It's okay," you repeated, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "But thank you for looking out for me."

Vander nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. He didn't need to say it; you could see it written all over his face—his regret, his concern, his promise to keep you safe. It was a silent vow, a bond forged in the fire of the bar's chaos, a pact that went beyond just employer and employee.

He stepped closer, his hand moving from your cheek to cradle your jaw, his thumb resting gently against your chin. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of fear, any hint of doubt. "You're more than okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the lingering buzz of the jukebox. "You're amazing."

The words hung in the air, thick with meaning, and you felt your cheeks flush. You knew he didn't dole out compliments lightly, and the fact that he was saying this now, in the aftermath of the incident, meant the world to you.

The air grew heavy with unspoken emotions, the bar's lights flickering in the quiet. For a moment, you just stood there, his hand on your face, your eyes locked on his. It was as if the world outside had ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the two of you, the beat of your hearts in sync with the fading music.

Vander's touch was firm but gentle, a contradiction that perfectly encapsulated his nature. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as his eyes searched yours. In that moment, you could feel the weight of his dominance, the power of his protective instincts that had just been on full display. Yet, there was something soft there too, a tenderness that you hadn't noticed before, or maybe you had just never allowed yourself to acknowledge it.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. "I don't ever want to see another man's hands on you like that," he murmured, the words a low, steady rumble. "You're mine to keep safe, and I won't let anyone take that from me."

You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his primal urge to claim and protect and his respect for your boundaries. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, the touch so light it was almost a question. You didn't pull away, your breath hitching at the intensity of his gaze. It was as if he was asking permission, giving you the power to decide the next move.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice a whisper in the quiet night. "But if you want more than just my protection... if you want me to touch you, to kiss you, to make sure that no one ever makes you feel that way again..." He trailed off, leaving the offer hanging in the air.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you considered his words. It was a bold move, one that could change everything. You knew what he was asking, what he was offering. And deep down, you knew you didn't just want it; you craved it. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his touch, the promise of his protection. It was tempting beyond belief.

You took a deep breath, your hand rising to cover his. "If that's what you want, Vander," you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. "If you're sure."

His eyes searched yours, the softness in them belying the steel in his spine. He was a man of few words, but when he spoke, they held the weight of a thousand promises. "I am," he murmured, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "But only if you're okay with it."

The air grew thick with anticipation as you stared at him, the silence stretching out like a tightrope. You felt the heat of his hand, the warmth of his body so close to yours. The bar, the customers, the world outside—it all faded away until there was only the two of you, the thump of your hearts the only sound in the quiet.

"I am," you murmured back, your voice a soft echo of his.

Vander's eyes flared with something that could've been relief or desire—or both. His hand tightened on your face, and he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was both gentle and fierce. It was a kiss that spoke of protection and passion, of the bond that had grown between you over the years. A silent declaration that you were his to cherish, his to protect.

You melted into him, your hands sliding around his waist to pull him closer. The scent of whiskey and sweat clung to him, a heady perfume that seemed to intoxicate you. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, holding you in place as if he never wanted to let you go. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as if he was trying to erase the memory of the man's touch with his own.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of regret or doubt. But all he found was the same fire that burned in his own chest. "I never want to see another man's hands on you," he murmured again, the words a solemn vow. "I want to be the only one to make you feel this way."

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. "Then it's a good thing I don't plan on letting anyone else touch me," you said, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. It was a bold statement, one that sent a thrill through you. But with Vander, it felt right.

He took a step back, his hands lingering on your hips. "But if you ever need me, if anyone ever tries to take what's not theirs..." He let the threat hang in the air, his eyes burning with a possessiveness that sent a thrill down your spine. "They'll answer to me."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken promise in his words. Vander was a man of his own set of rules, and protecting you was at the top of that list. It was a comfort, knowing that you had someone like him in your corner. But there was something else there too, a yearning that went beyond just keeping you safe. His thumb traced small circles on your lower back, a silent question.

You took a deep breath, looking up into his eyes. "I don't want anyone else's hands on me, Vander," you whispered, your voice shaking slightly. "Only yours."

His eyes searched yours, looking for any trace of doubt or fear. But what he saw was a spark of something else, something that mirrored the desire burning in his own chest. His hand slid up your back, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. The kiss was slow and deliberate, a promise of things to come. His dominance was unmistakable, but it was tempered with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

He broke away, his eyes never leaving yours. "If we do this," he said, his voice low and gruff, "it's not just because of what happened tonight. It's because I want you, because I've wanted you for a long time, sweetheart "

You nodded, your heart racing. "I know," you murmured. "And I want you too."

Vander's expression softened at your words, the fiery protectiveness in his gaze morphing into something softer, yet equally intense. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Are you sure?" he whispered, his hand sliding up your spine to rest at the base of your neck. "We don't have to do anything tonight. Not after...this."

You turned to face him fully, looking up into his eyes. "I'm sure," you said firmly. "I want this. I want you."

He searched your face for a moment longer before giving a single nod, as if to say, 'If you're sure.' His hand tightened around your neck, the grip firm but gentle, sending a thrill through you. It was a silent assertion of his dominance, a promise that he would take care of you, that you were his. And for the first time in a long time, you didn't just feel safe; you felt desired, wanted.

He leaned in again, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was everything you'd ever dreamed of. It was as if the bar and all its troubles had disappeared, leaving only the two of you in the quiet, dimly lit room. His hand slid down to your waist, his other arm wrapping around you to pull you closer, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the coldness of the metal barstools. You melted into him, feeling the hard planes of his chest against your soft curves.

The kiss grew more urgent, his hand sliding down to cup your bottom, lifting you onto the bar. You gasped into his mouth, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His grip was firm, almost bruising, but it only served to make you feel more alive. You knew he was holding back, that he could crush you with his strength, but he never would. It was part of the dance, the push and pull that existed between the two of you, a silent conversation that had been building for months.

"Vander," you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

He pulled back, his eyes searching yours. "You don't have to do this," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Not after tonight. Not if you don't want to."

But you did want to. You wanted him to erase the feel of that man's hands with his own, to replace the fear with something else entirely. "I want this," you assured him, your voice strong. "I want you."

His gaze searched yours, all he found was the same burning need that reflected his own. He leaned in again, his kiss deepening, his hands sliding under your shirt to trace the lines of your back. You arched into him, the softness of your body against his hardness. The bar was forgotten, the mess of the night left behind. There was only the two of you, the heat of your bodies melding together.

As the kiss grew more passionate, Vander's hands grew more insistent, his touch sure and confident. He knew exactly how to make you melt, how to make you feel like you were the only woman in the world. You could feel the tension in him, the restraint he was fighting to maintain. But tonight, you didn't want him to hold back. You wanted all of him—his strength, his protection, his passion.

"Please," you breathed against his lips, the word a plea.

He groaned, his hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over the hardened peak of your nipple. You gasped, the sensation shooting straight to your core. He took the sound as an invitation, his mouth moving from your lips to kiss along your jaw, his teeth grazing your earlobe. The bar was forgotten, the patrons a distant memory. There were only the two of you, the air charged with the electricity of a promise made and a need that had gone unspoken for too long.

He pulled back, his eyes searching yours. "If you need me to stop, if it's too much, just say the word," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to shake the very foundation of the bar.

You looked into his eyes, the softness there almost overwhelming. "I don't," you whispered, your voice a plea. "I need this, please…"

Vander nodded, his expression a mix of relief and desire. He kissed you again, his hand sliding down to the button of your jeans.

"Vander," you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. His touch was firm but gentle, a stark contrast to the iron-willed man who had just defended your honor so fiercely. His fingers danced over your skin, unbuttoning and unzipping with a precision that spoke of his experience and control.

He pulled back, his eyes searching yours. "You're sure?, last chance.." he asked one last time, his voice a low growl of need.

"Yes," you panted, your eyes never leaving his. "I'm sure."

With a final nod, he lifted you off the bar, his arms around your waist. He carried you to the back room, the sanctity of your shared space a stark contrast to the chaos of the bar. The room was small and cramped, filled with boxes of liquor and cleaning supplies, with a small cushioned chair, but in that moment, it was the most romantic place you could imagine. He set you down gently, his hands never leaving your body.

His kisses grew more urgent, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before he soothed the sting with his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, your hands fisting in his shirt as he unbuttoned it, revealing the hard planes of his chest. His skin was warm and rough, a stark contrast to the softness of yours.

You reached up to touch him, your hand shaking slightly. His muscles rippled under your fingertips, and you felt a thrill of power, knowing that this man, so strong and so fiercely protective, was yours to explore.

Vander's eyes never left yours as he carefully unbuttoned your shirt, his touch a gentle caress that belied the iron in his grip. He took his time, savoring the moment, his calloused fingers brushing against the softness of your skin. With each button released, you felt the weight of the garment slip away, baring more of yourself to him.

As he parted the fabric, his eyes trailed down your body, his gaze heated. But there was something else there too, a softness that made your heart race even faster. He was taking his time, treating you like something precious, something to be handled with care.

When the shirt was open, he took a moment to appreciate the sight before him. His eyes roamed over the curves of your breasts, the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed in anticipation. He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin, and kissed the hollow of your neck, making you shiver.

His hands moved to your shoulders, sliding the shirt down your arms. It fell to the floor with a soft whisper, leaving you in just your bra. He reached behind you, his movements precise and practiced, and unhooked the clasp. The fabric fell away, revealing your breasts.

The fabric pooled around your waist, leaving your breasts bare to his gaze. His eyes darkened with hunger, his pupils dilating as he took in the sight of you.

But it wasn't just about control—there was something tender there, too. A caring that was as palpable as the desire. He leaned in, his hot breath ghosting over your skin as he took one peak into his mouth, the scrape of his teeth against your sensitive flesh sending shockwaves through your body. 

His hands slid down to your hips, his thumbs digging in just enough to keep you in place. You could feel the tension in him, the need to claim you, to possess you utterly. But he held back, his movements a gentle dance of power and restraint.

As his mouth moved to your other breast, his hand slid down to your stomach, the calloused pads of his fingers tracing the soft curves. You trembled under his touch, the combination of his gentle care and the promise of his dominance leaving you breathless. His hand moved lower, slipping under the waistband of your open jeans to cup your sex. His eyes never left yours, watching for any sign of hesitation, any hint that you weren't ready. But all he saw was a desperate need, a reflection of his own.

Vander's dominance didn't just come from his physical strength or the way he wielded it. It was in his eyes, in the way he held you, in the possessive tilt of his head as he kissed you. His hand on your hip was firm, guiding you, but the way he touched your cheek was feather-light, a stark contrast that made your skin tingle with anticipation. He was a man who knew what he wanted, but he was also a man who knew how to ask for it without words.

His hand slid down your jeans, his grip tightening as he tugged them down your hips. He was urgent, but his movements were deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment. His eyes never left yours, as if he was looking for permission with every touch, ensuring you were as lost in the moment as he was. The denim hit the floor with a muffled thud, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

He stepped closer, his thigh pressing against yours, the heat of his body making you ache. His hand slid up the inside of your thigh, his touch gentle yet insistent. You could feel his restraint, the way his muscles coiled tightly as he held back, waiting for your consent. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of fear or doubt, but all he saw was the same fiery need that burned within him.

He stepped closer, his leg pressing between yours, the hardness of his thigh against your center making you gasp. His hand slid around to cup your backside, his fingers digging in just enough to make you aware of his power. But the way his other hand caressed your cheek, the way his thumb stroked your lower lip, was anything but rough. It was as if he was whispering sweet nothings with his fingertips, promising to cherish every inch of you.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes devouring you as if you were the only thing in the world. "So soft, so sweet."

Vander's voice was a low rumble in the quiet of the room, the words sending a shiver down your spine. His hand traveled up to the back of your neck, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin just under your ear. His other hand remained on your hip, guiding you, controlling your movements with a gentle but firm touch. It was a dance of dominance and submission, one that you found yourself eagerly following.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," he promised, his voice a dark whisper, as his touch grew more insistent, his hand sliding between your legs to cup you fully. You were wet, soaking the fabric of your panties, and the feel of his palm against you was almost too much. His fingers slid under the elastic, his rough touch a stark contrast to the softness of your skin. You whimpered, your body begging for more.

He slid a finger along the edge of your panties, tracing the slickness that had gathered there. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, the words a dark praise that sent a shiver through you. His thumb circled your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you moan. "So responsive, so eager."

Vander's eyes never left yours, his gaze a mix of hunger and something softer, something that made you feel cherished. His voice was a low rumble, the kind that made your knees weak and your core clench with need. "You're mine," he murmured, the words a declaration of ownership that sent a thrill through your body. His hand slid up your thigh, pushing aside your underwear, his rough fingertips teasing the sensitive skin. His touch was firm, but not harsh, a gentle dominance that made you feel both safe and utterly claimed.

You moaned as his finger found your entrance, sliding in easily with the slickness of your arousal. He stroked you gently, his thumb playing with your clit in a rhythm that made your eyes roll back in your head. "So sweet," he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek. "So wet for me." His praises were dirty, but there was something tender about the way he said them, as if he was worshipping you, as if every part of you was sacred.

He slid another finger in, the sensation overwhelming as he curled them, pressing against that spot inside you that made your toes curl. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the sounds that wanted to spill out, but his eyes never left yours, urging you to let go, to be as loud as you needed. "You're going to come for me," he murmured, the promise in his voice making your body tighten around his fingers. "And when you do, it's going to be because of me, because you're mine."

His hand worked you expertly, his thumb pressing harder, his fingers moving faster. You could feel yourself climbing, the tension in your body building. "Vander," you gasped, his name a plea.

He leaned in, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was as demanding as his touch. His tongue slid against yours, mimicking the motion of his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge. "Mine," he whispered again, his voice a dark promise.

And then you were falling, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Vander held you through it, his hand never stilling, his kiss never breaking. He whispered sweet nothings against your lips, his praises turning into words of comfort as you rode out the waves of pleasure. "So good," he murmured. "So beautiful."

When you finally came down from the high, you were breathless, your body boneless against Vander's. His hand remained between your legs, his fingers still moving gently, keeping you on the edge of another climax. He leaned in, his teeth grazing your ear as he whispered, "You're so perfect, baby." His voice was a dark velvet caress, the kind that made you shiver. 

You looked up at him, your eyes glazed with desire. He smiled, a wicked curve of his lips that made your heart race. His hand slid from your thigh to the center of your chest, his thumb tracing the rapid beat of your pulse. "You had to come for me," he murmured, his voice low and deep. "I need to feel you all around me." His eyes darkened, his need clear in every line of his body. "But once isn't enough. I need to make sure you're ready for me."

He stepped back, giving you space to breathe, his eyes never leaving yours. With a gentle tug, he removed your underwear, leaving you completely bare before him. He took a moment to appreciate the sight, his gaze lingering on the softness of your belly, the curve of your hips, the slight dark thatch of hair between your thighs. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

Vander leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered his dirty praises, his voice a mix of rough dominance and tender adoration. "You're so wet," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire. "So tight and ready for me." His hand slid over your hip, his grip firm as he turned you to face him fully. The softness of his touch was a stark contrast to the iron in his voice, his fingertips tracing patterns that made your breath hitch.

He knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he spread your legs wider, his gaze dropping to the wetness between your thighs. "All mine," he said, the words a gentle demand. "I've needed to taste you, for so long..." His mouth closed over your sex, his tongue flicking over your clit in a soft, teasing motion that had you gripping the edge of the bar. His dominance was clear in every touch, every lick, but there was something soothing about the way he held you, his strong arms keeping you steady as your body trembled with need.

Vander's praises grew more insistent as he licked and sucked, his bearded cheeks brushing against your sensitive flesh. "You're going to come for me again," he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent vibrations through your core. "And then, baby, I'll make sure I fit." His fingers slid inside you, stretching you gently, preparing you for what was to come.

You felt his dominance in every stroke of his tongue, in every firm press of his fingers. But the way he held you, the way he whispered sweet nothings against your skin, made you feel cherished, adored.

Vander's tongue danced over your clit, his movements precise and practiced, as if he'd been dreaming of this moment for just as long as you had. His beard scraped against your sensitive flesh, the roughness a delicious contrast to the softness of his tongue. You could feel him savoring the taste of you, the way his eyes had searched your body just moments before. His grip on your hips tightened, keeping you in place as he explored your folds with his mouth.

He licked and sucked with a gentle fierceness that had you panting, your body arching towards him. His hand slid up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over the peak as he watched your face contort with pleasure. His eyes never left yours, the intensity in his gaze making you feel like the most important person in the world. It was as if he was worshipping you, as if every inch of your body was sacred to him.

As you approached the peak again, his tongue moving in a steady rhythm that had you teetering on the edge. "Vander," you moaned, your voice a desperate plea. His only response was to suck harder, making you see stars. He was relentless, his dominance clear in every touch, but it was the tender. He held you in a way that made you feel safe, like you could let go completely.

You shuddered, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. His name was a cry on your lips, a declaration of surrender. Vander's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you fall apart, his tongue never stopping, drawing out every last shiver of pleasure. His grip on your hips tightened, his mouth working you through the aftershocks until your legs could no longer hold you.

He stood, his eyes never leaving yours, his face a picture of masculine beauty, a mix of desire and dominance. His hand slid up your body, his thumb brushing over your swollen clit, making you jerk in response. His touch was feather-light, yet it had the power to make you tremble with need. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "You're mine," he murmured, the words a soft demand that sent a shiver down your spine. "Every part of you."

Vander took a step back, his gaze raking over your exposed body with a hunger that made you feel like the most desired woman in the world. He reached for his own pants, unbuckling them with a swiftness that spoke of his urgency. The fabric slid down his legs, revealing the hard length of him. You watched, your eyes wide, as he freed his cock, his hand stroking it gently. The sight of him, so focused on your pleasure, made your stomach clench with need.

He stepped closer again, his cock brushing against your thigh. The chair was behind you, and without a word, he positioned you, his hands on your hips guiding you back. The cool leather met your skin, sending a shiver through you. He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered, "You're going to take me, baby. And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

Vander's hands were gentle as they helped you straddle him, his own need evident in every line of his body. But there was a softness in his eyes, a tenderness that belied the iron in his grip. He was a man who knew what he wanted, but he also knew how to give, to take care of the woman who had just entrusted herself to him. He held you there for a moment, his cock pressing against your opening, his eyes never leaving yours as if asking for one final consent.

You nodded, unable to form words, your body trembling with anticipation. He positioned himself, the head of his cock nudging at your slick entrance. He pushed in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. His dominance was a gentle coaxing, his eyes full of a question that needed no words. Are you ready? Can you take me? The question was in his touch, his gaze, his every movement.

You sank down onto him, feeling him fill you completely, his girth stretching you in a way that was slightly painful. But the pain was quickly overridden by the pleasure, the feeling of being so utterly filled and claimed. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you, setting the pace as he began to thrust up into you. His movements were slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours, as if he was watching for any sign that you weren't ready, any hint that he was being too rough. But all he saw was the desperate need reflected in your gaze, the silent plea for more.

Vander's dominance was a gentle coaxing, a whisper of power that made your body sing with every stroke. His hands slid up to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks, his eyes never leaving yours. You leaned back, your palms flat on the chair, your body arching as he drove into you. His touch was firm but not harsh, a testament to his control, a silent promise that he would never hurt you, even in his need.

He kissed you, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips, his teeth nipping at your lower lip in a way that made you gasp. His movements grew more urgent, his hips slamming up into you, the chair groaning under your combined weight.

"So tight," he murmured, the words a dark praise that had your core clenching around him. "So good for me." His voice was a low growl, a declaration of possession that sent shivers down your spine. His hands were everywhere, one hand squeezing your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple, the other hand sliding down to tease your clit, keeping you on the edge of ecstasy.

Vander's dominance was a gentle storm, his touch both firm and tender as he claimed you. "You're mine," he whispered, his eyes boring into yours. "Say it, darlin'. Tell me you're mine."

Your breath came in pants, his words echoing through your mind, mixing with the sensations that overwhelmed you. "Yours," you whispered, the word a declaration of submission that made your heart race. "All yours."

His grip tightened, his thrusts becoming more demanding, his praises turning into a chant that matched the beat of your pulse. "Mine, mine, mine," he murmured, his voice a dark symphony of possession and desire. His cock filled you, the feeling of fullness so intense it was almost too much to bear. But you took it, eager for more, your body moving with his, desperate to be one with him.

The room faded away, the bar outside forgotten as Vander brought you to the brink of another orgasm. His eyes never left yours, his gaze a mix of fierce need and something softer, something that made you feel cherished. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Now."

And with that, the dam broke. His hand clamping over your mouth to stop you from screaming his name, your body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. He held you through it, his arms a steel band around your waist, his cock never stilling. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his dirty praises turning into gentle coos that soothed you through the aftermath.

As you came down from the high, you felt Vander's own climax building, his hips moving faster, his grip on you tightening. "I'm going to fill you, darlin'" he murmured, the words a promise that had your core clenching around him. "You're going to take all of me." His eyes were dark with lust, but there was something gentle in his gaze, something that made you feel safe, cherished even in the throes of such raw passion.

He whispered dirty, dominant praises as he thrust into you, his voice a mix of grit and velvet. "So good, so tight, so wet," he groaned, his words sent your mind spinning. His eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making you feel like you were the only person in the world. The way he took you, the way he filled you, was both a claim and a promise.

Vander's touch remained soft, even as his grip tightened, his fingers digging into your hips. He held you in place, his dominance a gentle but firm presence that made you feel safe. With each stroke, you could feel him getting closer, his breath hitching in his chest, his eyes never leaving yours. The tension built between you, the air thick with the promise of his release.

And then it came, a low groan torn from his throat as he emptied himself into you. His body tensed, his muscles coiling with the force of his orgasm, but his hands never faltered, never let you go. He held you through it, his eyes a storm of pleasure and possession. It was a moment of raw, primal connection, one that had your heart racing and your body quivering.

As he came down from the peak, he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you against his chest. His heart pounded against yours, a steady rhythm that matched the aftershocks of your own climax.

His breath was hot against your neck, his lips whispering sweet nothings as he kissed the sensitive skin there. "Always," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "I'll always be here to protect you."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of comfort and excitement. Vander's dominance was a comforting blanket, wrapping you in a warmth that made you feel cherished and protected. You leaned into him, your body boneless with satisfaction. His cock was still inside you, a reminder of the claim he had made, the promise he had fulfilled.

The bar outside from earlier tonight was a distant memory. "Thank you," you whispered, the words barely audible. His only response was a gentle squeeze, a promise that he heard you, that he felt the same.

Vander pulled out of you with a groan, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you, sprawled on the chair, your body a canvas of sweat and passion. He reached out, his thumb tracing the slickness on your thighs, the evidence of your pleasure. His eyes held a warmth that made your heart flutter.

He helped you off the chair, his arms strong around your waist as you swayed slightly, legs wobbly from the intense pleasure he had just given you.

Vander took a step back, his gaze sweeping over your body with a possessive hunger that made you feel cherished and desired. His eyes lingered on the marks his passion had left on your skin, the love bites and bruises that would fade to a sweet memory of this night.

With a gentle touch, he reached for a nearby towel, using it to clean the evidence of your shared ecstasy from your thighs. His movements were tender, his touch reverent, as if you were something precious that needed to be handled with care. 

He helped you to your feet, your legs still shaky from the intensity of your release. You stepped closer to him, your bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces that had finally found their match.

He kissed you softly, hands roamed your body, his touch soothing the tender spots, his kisses leaving a trail of fire wherever he went. "Tomorrow," he murmured against your skin, "we'll do it all over again."

[thealexchen]

On sapphic rep in "Lost Records: Bloom & Rage" (part 2)

(Link to part 1)

Now that the game is done, I have to say that my favorite aspect about the sapphic romances in Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is that they actually felt romantic and youthful.

Throughout Tape 1, all of the girls were all given the screentime and environment to grow their bonds organically. When you're that young and new to love, the smallest gestures-- a lingering gaze, a little touch, a small act of service-- feel the most impactful, and I love how the game fixated on them.

How Swann held Kat's hand after removing her splinter for just a moment longer than she needed to. Nora calling Swann cute and saying she'd kiss her means the world to Swann because she struggled with her self-esteem (and Nora knew). A "joke" kiss between Kat and Nora during the music video isn't played off as a total joke, but can actually be referenced by adult Nora as a reason for why she fell in love with Kat. How Kat leaned her head on Swann's shoulder in the attic, then hung onto her hand at the concert when Swann promised she'd always have her back. The girls' almost-kiss when doing Swann's makeup is charged with tension and butterflies. It's wholesome, it's cute, and it's innocent.

And then in Tape 2, all those small gestures blossom into such sweet, genuine acts of affection that are so rooted in love and trust. Both Kat and Autumn reach back to hold Swann's hand while she holds them in their scenes. After her panic attack, Autumn can kiss Swann's hand as a silent gesture of gratitude. Nora cuddles up to Swann in the garage to comfort her when the group's split apart. Kat can ask Swann to cut her hair because, "I trust you," and they hold hands in solidarity if Swann refuses to leave through the window. Swann can give Nora a playful kiss on the nose, then cuddle up to Autumn again in a hug. When Kat is exhausted in the cabin, Nora offers her comfort as best she can and tenderly strokes Kat's hair. Nora and Kat tell the group they love them multiple times, regardless of your relationship status.

Despite the 90's Midwestern setting, despite the horrors and supernatural happenings, the girls can still get their first dance and first kiss like any straight couple. Even the way they dance isn't sexy or even wholly romantic, but full of joy, freedom, and self-expression. They dance together without fear of judgement, followed by a long kiss that literally sweeps them off their feet. They're not made to look beautiful-- they're sweaty, disheveled, still full of adrenaline, with half-melted makeup literally running down their faces-- but they look beautiful to each other, and the moment is framed as a beautiful one regardless.

Beyond just being adorable, I love that these moments aren't presented for the male gaze, yet again. The game isn't shy about the girls' budding sexualities as teenagers, but the difference is that they're autonomous in their sexuality without being sexualized. In a media landscape where lesbians are sexualized and are denied the chance to act young, innocent, romantic, and sweet, it is truly refreshing to instead see a quartet of teen girls stumble and giggle their way through first love in this game. Dontnod has been known for sad and tragic stories, but it's incredible to finally see them depict queer joy too.

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

Bumble-Beetles: these beetles have dense, fuzzy bristles and banded markings that mimic the appearance of a bumblebee

Above: a bumblebee-mimicking beetle, Lasiotrichius succinctus

A few months ago, I wrote a post about a very plump, fluffy-looking type of beetle known as the African woolly chafer, and several people commented that it should be described as a "bumble-beetle." The African woolly chafer does look like a bumblebee, but I just wanted to note that "bumble-beetles" actually exist -- and they are truly adorable.

Above: both of these photos depict Lasiotrichius succinctus beetles

The families Glaphyridae and Scarabaeidae contain several different types of bumblebee-mimicking beetles; the adults are strong, diurnal fliers that can often be found hovering around (or perched atop) flowers, where they feed on pollen, nectar, and/or sap.

Many of these beetles have banded patterns in their setae or on their elytra (the protective casings that cover their wings), and their bodies are covered in dense, fuzzy-looking bristles, which means that they are excellent pollinators, just like the bumblebees they mimic.

Above: Lichnanthe rathvoni, commonly known as the bumblebee scarab

Some species are known as bee-mimicking chafers, bumblebee scarabs, or bee-beetles, but the term "bumble-beetle" seems like the most fitting nickname.

Here are just a few more examples:

Above: the photo at the top shows Trichius fasciatus, the Eurasian bee-beetle, feeding alongside an actual bee; the second photo shows a close-up of the same species

Above: the face of Trichius gallicus, otherwise known as the French flower chafer or French bee-beetle

Above: Trichiotinus assimilis, also known as the bee-mimic beetle

Sources & More Info:

iNaturalist: Genus Lasiotrichius and Genus Trichius

Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America: Bumble Bee Scarabs

BioComm: The Eurasian Bee Beetle

University of Nebraska: Generic Guide to New World Scarab Beetles: Glaphyridae Overview

Insects of the Pacific Northwest: Lichnanthe rathvoni

The Coleopterist: The Bee Beetle Trichius fasciatus in Northern Scotland (PDF)

Journal for Nature Conservation: Beyond Bees and Butterflies: the Role of Beetles in Pollination Systems

Entomologist: Bumblebee Scarab Beetle

[delusionalalien]

[Embrace You, Devour You] [Chapter 3] YANDERE!Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader x YANDERE!Variant!Invincibles

The best i can describe this story is, boring, for the lack of better words. But hey, i like writing garbage and giving people brain aneurysm #make-the-plot-on-the-spot

prologue

previous chapter , next chapter

T.W / Tags: Slow-burn, Soft yandere, Pining, mark is bat shit crazy but he good dw, baby-trapping, teen pregnancy, yandere variants, mark a lil pushy, breeding kink, jealous Mark Grayson, misunderstandings, prob need more tags

You expected your Father to walk in your room, not Mark standing besides your bed like a creep.

Sometimes you feel like your mother hates you. Not downright abuse just enough to show that she was always thinking about how she can ruin your day. You didn't willingly sign up for your schools summer class, they we're for kids who failed, for insufferable academic tryhards to get ahead of the other students, and for adults to earn extra cash.

Your mother who goes by the hero name Crusher, left for a duo mission abroad with Omni-man, and signed you up for a month of summer classes.

Arguing that you, her daughter who does nothing at home, who has a small friend group, and a general homebody, would sneak off during the middle of the night to party at some dudes house. Afraid that she won't be there to scold you and drag you back home by the ear.

Because you recently turned 13, and girls your age are curious of the world beyond the walls of their home. Her words seems to reflect her more than it did to you, and your father shares the same sentient. Pointing it out which caused her to glare at him. Promptly shutting up a past she never wants to share.

Your father then argues for his right of daddy-daughter bonding month, he had prior plans to take you out camping and hiking in the mountains, but her words are final.

a stab to your fathers gentle heart.

"It's only for a month, you both will live."

She shrugged it off and blasted off, not before she gave you and your disappointed father kisses. Promising souvenir's and food from countries you'll never be able to visit.

Today was like any other day of the year when it was summer, the AC turned on to the max, your room cold with you buried in your blankets with the anime you've been watching finally coming to an end.

Skipping one day is not big deal, your father don't mind at all as long as you both kept it hush hush around your mother.

And you deserved the break from enduring for this long in the summer heat after all.

Kicking the blankets off you. You lazily rolled off the bed, yawning as you sluggishly walked over to the TV mounted on the wall and turned it off.

It was way to cold in your room, your bare feet kissing the ice cold carpet and you shivered. Regretting not wearing socks.

You glanced at the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mark in his room playing his Gameboys like any other day when he waits for you to wake up, but his curtains were drawn close again. You weren't stupid. Mark has been ignoring you after you lied to him about liking Todd, because you were afraid to tell him the truth.

of course it was going to be awkward. Like Todd? You could have said some other guys name and he'd probably wouldn't bat an eye! Why did you have to blur out his name of all things?

You had screamed into your pillow that night until you passed out.

Your face hit the mattress, groaning into your messy bed. Heart aching for him, to see his face, hear his voice and my god you desperately wanted to hold his hand in yours while watching shows or reading comics.

Just thinking about him gave you butterflies. His stupid dorky smile, and his stupid laugh, the way his dark eyes twinkled as he attentively listens to you talk about your recent fixation he had every right to not listen to, but he did. he always did, no matter how boring of a topic it was.

You held your pillow tightly, screaming into it as you body shakes. Your legs kicked the air as you toss and turn in your bed.

"Damn you, Grayson!" you hissed, face warm as you try to calm your racing heart.

You sighed loudly, burying yourself into the comfort of your bed. Nearly falling back to slumber if it weren't for the door opening and closing with a soft click.

Must be your dad coming in to check on you. You made no attempts to look at your father, waiting for him to say something outrageous like when he admitted he already knew how much you love mark.

You've never seen that man panic in your entire life when you stormed back into your room and slammed the door shut right in his face. Snacks left outside your door with dinner Prepare and left for you to eat as an apology for teasing you.

"Dad, can you leave please? I don't wanna talk to anyone right now."

"uh, hey (name)? "

you have never bolted up from your bed as fast you have before. There he was, standing over your bed like a creep, your creep, a sheepish smile on his face as he awkwardly stood there, watching you.

"Mark! Hi! I, what, I didn't know you were here!" you sat on the edge of your bed, a little too eager to greet him. God, play it cool.

"Uh yeah, you were still asleep from watching all those shows last night." Mark said, "I didn't want to disturb you or anything."

You leaned back, blinking slowly, heat creeping to your cheeks a little embarrassed by the way he smiled softly as he spoke.

"I, I didn't know you were awake last night. You didn't knock on my window... We could have hangout, ya'know?"

Mark seems stun, like that wasn't an option at all when it comes to your friendship. He cleared his throat, shaking the nerves as he casually sat on the edge with you.

"I wasn't feeling well, and uh," Mark cleared his throat, "your dad wants me to hang out with you."

"We can do anything you want."

Tilting your head you were too well aware of your surroundings, his scent, the way he breathes and the way his eyes was staring at you in an intense emotional connection.

You try to create a gap between you two, fearing he may hear the rapid beats of your heart. God, the way he makes you feel was wonderful as it is scary.

Mark, noticed the slight gap between you two, and he feel his heart ache in hurt.

You never leaned away from him before.

All because you like, Todd. Was that it?

Just because you like Todd now, you suddenly want to distance from him now? Mark thinks it's unfair that you we're throwing away your friendship with him. You and him we're together the day you two met, why were you throwing it all away for your bully?

For your stupid crush?

You fought back anything that was cringe worthy, choosing to fake cough a few times when Mark stares at you, ignoring that he looked absolutely livid and pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"D-do you wanna play Mario Kart with me?"

It came off as a whisper, too flustered and shy. You felt like punching yourself in the face and deleting your entire existence.

It took Mark a second to reply, hesitant, as if trying to see if he could offer something else to do with you. Slowly he nods.

"Yeah," Mark wore a smile it didn't reach his eyes but you were too over the moon to even notice anything astray.

"Let's play Mario Kart."

-

note : SCHOOL IS KICKING MY ASS THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FINISHED YESTERDAY #CULINARYSTUDENTSUFFERING, #HOSPITALITYMANAGEMENTTHINGS, why can't college pay for all of these things, huhu im going crazy-

Crazy? i was crazy once, they lock me in a room, a rubber room, a rubber room full of rats, and rats make me crazy. Crazy-