#i thought it wasn’t going to! i thought i’d be fine this time!!

[fioredeciliego]

Hell of a Ride (Wish there was a Car) - Karina x Fem!Reader

Be warned, there is smut 15k words

The jungle was thick with the midday sun, beads of sweat trailing down your neck as you trudged after Jimin. She seemed oddly serene, picking her way through dense vegetation with a kind of breezy confidence that only made you feel more uneasy. Each step away from any familiar landmark left you feeling more lost, yet Jimin seemed entirely unbothered. As she led the way, her hand brushed against a massive fern, sending droplets of morning dew sprinkling through the air.

“Are you really sure this is the right path?” you asked, trying to sound calm but unable to mask the tension in your voice. You’d lost track of how many times you’d already asked, but this time, you hoped she’d finally admit they might be heading in the wrong direction.

Jimin turned and flashed you her signature grin. “Totally sure. It’s just… a scenic route,” she said, her tone a little too carefree.

“A scenic route,” you repeated flatly, your eyes scanning the endless sea of green surrounding you. The air was thick and still, with only the occasional call of a distant bird breaking the silence. “You mean the path where we haven’t seen another soul in hours?”

“Exactly!” She laughed, nudging you with her elbow as if the whole thing was a harmless joke. “You’ll thank me later when we’re out of here with the best story to tell. How many people can say they’ve been ‘lost’ in the jungle? This is the kind of story people want to hear!”

An uncomfortable laugh escaped you, though it was more a reflex than actual amusement. “Lost isn’t exactly the word I’d use. We’re… stranded, Jimin.”

Jimin chuckled, apparently amused by your escalating nerves. “Stranded? That’s such a strong word! We’re just… wandering with a purpose. Besides, we’ve got food, water, even a little signal now and then. We’re fine.”

Frustration bubbled up in your chest, the tension reaching a breaking point. “Jimin, wandering with a purpose only works if you actually have a direction. We’re just walking aimlessly!”

She stopped, finally looking you in the eyes, her smile faltering as she registered the worry in your face. Her voice softened. “Okay, okay. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Worst case, we’ll just retrace our steps.”

“Retrace our steps? Do you even remember the way we came?” you pressed, crossing your arms as you took in the pathless jungle surrounding you both. “I don’t think ‘back’ is even a possibility anymore.”

Jimin hesitated, glancing over her shoulder with a thoughtful expression, and you could tell she was trying to play it off. But it was painfully clear she hadn’t been paying attention to the way they’d come. She shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Well, it’s not like we’re out here without resources. We’ve got plenty of daylight, food, and I’ll get us back to where we started.”

You sighed, exasperation lacing your words. “Jimin, this isn’t a movie. We don’t have some magical compass that’s going to lead us to safety. This is real. And it’s dangerous.”

Jimin’s face softened, and for a second, she almost looked apologetic. She took a tentative step closer, reaching out as if she wanted to comfort you. “Hey, I get it. I do. But… maybe this could be a fun experience. Something we’ll laugh about later?” Her eyes sparkled, an optimistic light that seemed wildly out of place in the suffocating jungle.

“A fun experience?” you asked, unable to hide the mix of irritation and worry. “This isn’t a weekend trip to the beach. We’re in the jungle, miles from any kind of help.”

Jimin looked down at her feet, a sheepish expression crossing her face. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I wasn’t… thinking it through. But look, we’re here now, and I’ll make sure we get back. Worst case, we’ll head in one direction and keep going until we find a trail.”

“Assuming that actually works,” you muttered, scanning the tangled undergrowth with skepticism. The sheer volume of plants and trees was overwhelming, every corner of the jungle looking like an endless mirror of the last.

Jimin reached out, gently brushing a leaf off your shoulder with a smile. “Hey, at least we’ve got a good view, right?” she joked, gesturing to the towering trees and vibrant green around you. “This isn’t just any regular adventure. It’s, like… a private jungle getaway. Just the two of us.”

“A private jungle getaway?” you repeated, the disbelief clear in your voice. “Are you seriously calling this a romantic outing? We’re lost, Jimin.”

She tilted her head, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Come on, just go with it! Imagine it’s like… a spontaneous date, complete with the best ambiance nature has to offer. You and me, lost in paradise… don’t you think it’s kind of nice?”

You let out an exasperated huff, though you couldn’t deny the flicker of warmth her words stirred. “I don’t think you get it. This isn’t some fun little escapade, Jimin. We’re actually stuck, and there’s a good chance we won’t get out of here by nightfall.”

She held up her hands defensively, a guilty smile creeping onto her face. “Okay, fair point. Maybe I’m downplaying things a little. But hey, I’ve been camping before. I’ve got some survival skills,” she said, attempting a confident grin.

“Oh, great. So you know how to toast marshmallows? That’ll really save us,” you replied dryly, though her attempt at humor brought a reluctant smile to your face.

Jimin laughed, a genuine sound that cut through the tension for a moment. She reached out and ruffled your hair affectionately, a teasing smile on her lips. “I know, I know. I’ll be serious. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for any sign of a trail. Just don’t worry too much. I’ve got you.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you looked away, the worry still a tight knot in your stomach, but her sincerity softened your anger a little. Jimin’s confidence might be misplaced, but it was hard to stay completely mad at her when she looked so earnest. Maybe she didn’t understand the full weight of the situation, but there was no denying she genuinely cared.

“Fine,” you said, giving in with a reluctant smile. “But no more detours, okay? We’re sticking to whatever you think is the straightest path out of here.”

She gave a little salute, her expression brightening. “Yes, ma’am. No more detours.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide a small smile as you followed her through the undergrowth, her confident strides taking her forward with a purpose you weren’t sure she actually had. Her energy was reassuring, even if misplaced.

--

The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the jungle, transforming the trees into towering green pillars and the undergrowth into a vibrant tapestry. You and Jimin finally emerged into a small clearing, a brief break in the dense foliage that gave you both a moment to breathe. Though neither of you would admit it, you were both hoping it meant you were finally headed in the right direction.

Jimin, of course, was still trying to appear as confident as ever, even though you’d caught her glancing over her shoulder more than a few times as if she were second-guessing herself. She wiped a thin sheen of sweat from her forehead, hands on her hips as she surveyed the area. “Alright,” she declared, as if she’d just led you on a great expedition, “I think we’re back on track.”

You raised an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. “You think we’re back on track?”

“Hey, I’m pretty sure,” Jimin replied, shrugging. She flashed you a lopsided grin, her confidence radiating even though it seemed clear she was mostly guessing. “Besides, you don’t see anyone else here with a map, right?”

“Yeah, because we don’t have a map,” you pointed out, unable to keep a small laugh from slipping out. Jimin’s misplaced confidence was somehow endearing, even though you still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

Ignoring your tone, Jimin gestured forward with a flourish, as if presenting a path only she could see. “Look, I know it seems like we’re lost, but trust me. We’re not,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

You glanced around the clearing, squinting into the dense underbrush, trying to find any indication of where you’d come from. “Okay, well, if you’re so sure, let’s try heading back the way we came, alright?”

Jimin shrugged nonchalantly. “Easy! Just follow me.”

But as she took a confident step forward, her boot caught on an exposed root hidden beneath a layer of leaves. With a startled yelp, Jimin stumbled forward, reaching out instinctively for balance. Unfortunately, you happened to be right in her path, and before you could even react, she grabbed onto your arm, pulling you down with her.

You both hit the ground with a soft thud, leaves crunching beneath you. Jimin landed partially on top of you, her weight pinning you down for a moment. A shocked silence hung between you both as you registered the tangle of limbs, your faces just inches apart. She blinked, eyes wide with embarrassment, her cheeks flushing as she quickly scrambled off of you.

“Oh my god—I’m so sorry!” she sputtered, cheeks flushed as she tried to brush the dirt off herself. “Are you okay?”

You groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you brushed a few stray leaves from your hair. “I think I’m fine. But maybe let’s leave the dramatic falls to the action movies, yeah?”

Jimin let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “Guess I got a little overzealous there. Sorry for, you know, tackling you.”

Despite the dirt and the sting of impact, you found yourself laughing, the sound surprising both of you. Jimin looked at you, wide-eyed and slightly taken aback.

“Wait, are you… laughing at me?” she asked, her voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

You shook your head, but the laughter only bubbled up more. “No, no, I’m just laughing at… the situation. Here we are, ‘retracing our steps,’ only to end up face-first in the dirt. It’s… fitting, somehow.”

Jimin’s lips curled into a reluctant smile, and soon she was laughing too, her soft giggles filling the clearing. “Alright, alright. So maybe I’m not the best at leading us through the jungle. But look, I’m keeping things interesting, aren’t I?”

“Interesting is one way to put it,” you replied, still smiling as you pushed yourself up and brushed the dirt from your clothes. “I mean, there’s never a dull moment with you around.”

She grinned, giving you a mock salute. “Glad to be of service. Now, let’s try this again… maybe without the acrobatics this time.”

Standing side by side in the clearing, you both took a moment to reassess your situation. Jimin straightened her shoulders, attempting to take on a serious, determined expression as she glanced around, as if searching for any sign of the way forward.

“So,” she began, looking around with a touch of genuine uncertainty, “since we’re clearly both experts in navigation, why don’t we try to divide up what we’re carrying? If we’re going to find our way back, we should at least make sure we’re both prepared for anything.”

You nodded, grateful for the small bit of planning. “Good idea. Let’s take stock of what we’ve got.” Together, you emptied out the few supplies you had between the two of you: a half-full water bottle, a granola bar, a small flashlight with a barely-charged battery, and a few other random items neither of you had expected to need in the middle of a jungle.

Jimin eyed the meager supplies, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “So, you carry the flashlight and water, and I’ll hold onto the snacks. That way, if we get tired, I can give you a pep talk with food,” she joked, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

You rolled your eyes but handed her the granola bar, trying not to let your growing worry show too much. “Just don’t eat it all yourself. We might need it if we’re still out here for a while.”

Her smile softened as she looked over at you, her expression unexpectedly gentle. “Hey, don’t worry too much. I promise I’ll get us out of here, okay? I might be a little clumsy, but I don’t give up easily.”

Something in her tone reassured you, a quiet conviction that made you feel a bit more grounded. You gave her a nod, tucking the flashlight into your bag. “Alright. Then lead the way, oh fearless one. Just… watch out for those roots this time.”

She chuckled, giving you a playful nudge as she started forward again, her gaze more focused as she scanned the ground in front of her. And as you followed her deeper into the jungle, you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, she would find a way to lead you both out of there—without too many more bruises along the way.

--

The sky shifted from bright blue to soft hues of pink and orange, signaling the day’s end as you and Jimin continued trudging through the dense jungle. Despite her determination, both of you knew that walking aimlessly in the dark wouldn’t get you anywhere. Finally, you spotted a small, open area nestled between a few large trees.

“I think we should stop here,” you suggested, setting down your bag and glancing up at the streaks of fading sunlight poking through the canopy. “It’s going to be pitch-black soon, and we’ll just end up tripping over ourselves in the dark.”

Jimin glanced around, hands on her hips, then nodded. “Good call. I mean, it’s only one night, right?” She shot you a quick, slightly nervous grin as she looked around, already beginning to gather sticks and leaves in a valiant attempt to make a shelter.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched her struggle with the basics of shelter-building, her clumsiness getting in the way. She tried stacking some larger sticks against a low-hanging tree branch, but they slid down almost immediately, leaving her standing in a defeated, tangled mess of branches and vines.

“Need a hand?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Jimin’s face turned slightly red, though she managed a lopsided grin. “What, you don’t think I know how to set up camp?”

You chuckled softly, reaching out to steady one of the sticks she was holding. “I’m just saying, if we leave it up to you, we might end up sleeping under a pile of leaves.”

Jimin laughed, scratching the back of her head as she stepped back, letting you take the lead. “Fine, fine. I’ll let the expert take over… for now.”

You started rearranging the sticks, weaving them together to make a sturdier frame. As you worked, you couldn’t help but feel her eyes on you, watching intently, as if she were genuinely impressed by your makeshift construction skills. When you looked up, you found her staring at you with a small smile, her expression softer than usual. Your cheeks warmed, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the structure.

Jimin cleared her throat, taking a step closer as she bent down to help. “So… any camping trips in your past that I should know about?”

You shrugged, placing a handful of palm leaves on the frame to create a sort of roof. “My family used to go camping a lot when I was younger. I guess I picked up a few things along the way.”

“Ah, see, you’re full of surprises,” she said with a grin, carefully placing leaves beside yours. Her fingers brushed yours for a split second as she worked, sending a strange but pleasant jolt through you.

The sun dipped lower, and you continued working side by side, occasionally bumping elbows or reaching for the same spot, only to pull back with shy smiles. Eventually, you’d pieced together a small but sturdy shelter, just big enough to fit you both and keep the wind out.

Jimin stepped back to admire your work, her eyes shining with genuine pride. “Not bad! I guess we make a pretty good team.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you looked at her, noting the way her face lit up despite the dimming light around you. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

She settled down inside the shelter, patting the spot next to her with a playful grin. “Come on, don’t be shy! Your construction, your prime seat.”

Rolling your eyes, you crawled in beside her, grateful for the shelter you’d built together. With the last bit of daylight slipping away, an unfamiliar yet comfortable quiet fell over the two of you. The jungle sounds became more pronounced as night fell—crickets chirped, and the occasional rustle of leaves hinted at the hidden creatures nearby. You hugged your knees to your chest, glancing over at Jimin, who sat with her legs stretched out, leaning against the shelter frame with a relaxed smile on her face.

For a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the world, the isolation of the jungle bringing a rare kind of intimacy. You turned to her, breaking the silence. “Do you think anyone’s noticed we’re gone?”

Jimin shrugged, glancing up at the now star-speckled sky. “Probably… though I doubt they’re panicking yet. They’ll figure out we’re missing by morning, I bet.”

“Guess that means we’re stuck here for the night, then,” you murmured, a touch of worry in your voice.

Jimin must have sensed your unease because she gave you a reassuring smile, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s kind of like an adventure, right? Just think of it as… our own little jungle getaway.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Right. The ideal vacation spot: stranded in the jungle with no food or water.”

She laughed softly, nudging you. “Well, maybe not ideal, but… hey, at least we’ve got each other.” Her eyes met yours, the soft light in them making your breath hitch for a moment.

You managed a small smile, leaning back against the frame of the shelter. “Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

A comfortable silence settled over you once more, broken only by the symphony of nighttime sounds. You felt Jimin’s shoulder brush against yours as she shifted slightly, leaning in closer as if to share warmth in the cool night air. Her presence, though often clumsy and exasperating, was undeniably comforting in this strange, lonely place.

After a while, she spoke up, her voice softer than usual. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever spent a night like this before. It’s… kind of nice.”

You glanced over at her, surprised by the sincerity in her tone. “Yeah? Even though we’re, you know, lost?”

She laughed quietly. “Yeah. Maybe it’s the whole survival thing, but I feel… I don’t know, alive. Like, really alive.”

You found yourself smiling at her words, understanding what she meant. There was something oddly exhilarating about the danger, the rawness of the situation you were in. And though you wouldn’t admit it, you were grateful for her company.

As you both settled into silence once more, your eyelids grew heavy, the sounds of the jungle lulling you into a surprisingly peaceful state. Just as you were on the edge of sleep, you heard Jimin mumble softly, almost to herself, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep us safe.”

--

The night air in the jungle quickly grew colder as the sky darkened, the warmth of the day fading into the cool embrace of the evening. You huddled closer to the shelter, pulling your jacket tighter around you, but the chill still seeped into your bones. You could feel the air turning brisker, the jungle’s nocturnal hum growing louder in contrast to the stillness that had settled between you and Jimin.

Jimin shifted next to you, clearly uncomfortable, her shoulders hunched as she wrapped her arms around herself. She glanced over at you, her lips curling into a mischievous smile as she attempted to break the tension.

“So, uh, is this… how you imagined our first night alone together?” she asked, her tone playful but laced with a nervous undertone. She gave a slight shrug as she shuffled closer, her eyes catching the moonlight, making her look almost ethereal. “I mean, I gotta say, this isn’t quite the cozy, romantic campfire I was picturing, but… maybe I’m just doing it wrong.”

You shot her a look, suppressing a grin at her antics. "Definitely not the romantic getaway I had in mind," you said dryly, though the teasing tone in your voice didn’t quite mask the warmth you were beginning to feel. It wasn’t just from the campfire; it was from being in such close quarters with her.

Jimin shifted again, now sitting much closer to you, though you hadn’t moved at all. She glanced over at you, her eyes softening for a moment before she broke the silence with another joke. “You cold?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because if you’re cold, I mean, you could always snuggle up to me. I’m pretty good at staying warm… you know, since I’m basically a walking heater.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her flirtatious remark, but something inside you stirred at her words. It was so casual, so effortless, yet you could feel the shift in the air around you. The closeness, the playful teasing—it made your heart race in a way you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, though the words felt hollow as the chill gnawed at you once more. You pulled your legs up to your chest, trying to stay warm, but you couldn’t deny the sudden longing for her proximity, for her warmth.

Jimin noticed the small shiver that ran through you, and her teasing smile softened. “You sure? I can’t let my teammate freeze, you know. You’re kind of important.” She gently nudged your shoulder with hers, a little more sincerely now.

You let out a quiet, half-laugh. “I’m not going to freeze. I’ve been through worse.”

Jimin’s smile remained, but there was an underlying concern in her eyes. “Still, it’s not just about surviving, it’s about being comfortable, too.” Her voice dropped slightly, and you could hear the sincerity in it, which made your heart flutter a little.

She hesitated for a moment before sliding closer, her body warmth becoming more apparent as she sat beside you, a little closer than before. She tugged her jacket tighter around herself, but it was clear it wasn’t enough to keep her warm either. Her eyes met yours briefly, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something unspoken in them.

“Come on, don’t make me beg for it,” she teased, her voice light again as she nudged you more insistently. “I’m just offering my body heat, not a lifetime commitment. Though, if you’re into that…” She waggled her eyebrows dramatically, and you couldn’t help but snort at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

“Jimin, you’re impossible,” you muttered, though you didn’t push her away. Instead, you found yourself unconsciously leaning into her, the warmth she offered starting to feel too tempting to resist.

“See? I knew you were secretly into it,” she teased softly, though her voice was warmer now, less cocky. She wrapped her arm around you, pulling you close in a comfortable embrace, the kind of closeness that felt both natural and slightly awkward at the same time.

You froze at first, a little startled by how easy it felt to just… fall into her. But then the warmth from her body enveloped you, and you sighed in relief, your tense shoulders loosening. The cold from before seemed to melt away, replaced by the undeniable warmth of her embrace.

Jimin leaned her head lightly against yours, her breath warm against your ear. “See? This isn’t so bad, right?”

You couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips, even as you tried to act nonchalant about the entire thing. “I guess not,” you muttered. You didn’t want to admit how good it felt, how right it felt to be this close to her, especially with everything that had happened earlier. You weren’t sure why the touch of her skin against yours sent a flutter through your chest, but you weren’t ready to acknowledge it just yet.

There was another beat of silence between you two as you both just sat there, the only sound coming from the distant jungle creatures and your shared breaths. You felt Jimin’s hand slip just a little lower down your back, her fingers brushing against your waist, and your heart skipped.

She pulled away slightly, her voice soft but playful, a teasing edge still lingering. “Are you comfortable now? Or do I need to get even closer?” Her grin was mischievous, but you could tell she was still testing the waters, gauging how much you were willing to let her in.

Your face warmed at the suggestiveness in her voice, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you found yourself leaning in closer, your head resting against her shoulder. “This is fine,” you said softly, though you could feel your heartbeat quicken.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, trying to break the tension, even though part of you didn’t want to. “You really like to joke around, don’t you?”

Jimin grinned, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Hey, I have to make the best out of our romantic jungle getaway, right? Just trying to keep the mood light.” She tilted her head, her voice taking on a more sincere note. “But seriously, I’ll keep you warm. I don’t mind.”

Something in her words—soft, but unspoken—made your heart race. You looked up at her then, her expression unreadable for a second before she nudged you with her shoulder, her grin returning. You couldn’t help but smile back, your feelings all tangled up in this strange, overwhelming mixture of warmth, laughter, and unexpected connection.

--

As the first rays of sunlight broke through the thick canopy above, you stirred awake, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. The morning was calm, with the soft hum of the jungle waking up around you. Jimin was already up, fiddling with the last of your shared provisions to make some semblance of breakfast. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, her hands fumbling slightly as she tried to tear open a package of granola bars.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” she greeted with a smirk as you sat up, blinking in the dawn light. “Just in time to join me for this… Michelin-star breakfast I’ve whipped up.” She raised an eyebrow, brandishing a half-crushed granola bar with mock grandeur.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Ah, yes. The classic ‘lost in the jungle with no real food’ breakfast. How gourmet of you.”

She grinned, delighted to have coaxed a laugh out of you. “Hey, I’ll have you know that in some cultures, this counts as a romantic adventure date,” she quipped, her voice light but with a mischievous edge.

You froze mid-reach for a water bottle, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’m sorry—adventure date?” You couldn’t help but scoff, though the corners of your mouth threatened to lift. “Are you seriously calling this a date?”

Jimin shrugged, her eyes sparkling as she looked at you. “Well, I mean, think about it: secluded location, scenic views, lots of quality alone time…” She raised her hands, gesturing at the sprawling jungle around you. “Besides, you don’t seem to be hating it as much as you let on.” She shot you a grin, clearly enjoying every second of teasing you.

You bit back a smile, trying to look as exasperated as possible. “Jimin, I think I’d prefer a less ‘lost and starving in the wilderness’ kind of date,” you said, though your tone was soft.

Jimin leaned in, nudging you with her shoulder. “Aw, come on. Think of the memories we’re making! Just imagine the stories we’ll have to tell… if we make it out, of course,” she added with a laugh.

You gave her a sidelong glance, but her enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself smiling despite yourself. “Fine, but next time I get to choose the date spot. Preferably somewhere with less… potential for starving,” you replied, only half-joking.

Jimin put her hand to her chest in mock offense. “Noted! Though, I don’t know, you’ve been a pretty good sport about it all. You’re even smiling at my jokes now.” She leaned in a little closer, her tone dropping as she added, “See? I knew you’d come around to liking me.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the warmth that crept up your cheeks. “I wouldn’t get too cocky just yet,” you muttered, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

She looked at you, something playful but genuine in her gaze. “Admit it—you’re having a little bit of fun,” she teased, tilting her head to try and catch your eye. “I know you can’t resist my charms forever.”

You shook your head, trying to hold back your grin. “Jimin, I’m just doing my best to survive out here with you. Let’s not read too much into it.”

But as you both started packing up to continue your trek, Jimin kept up her playful banter, her flirtation escalating in small, unexpected ways. Every so often, as you made your way through the thick jungle underbrush, she’d lean over, whispering dramatic “observations” about your surroundings as though narrating a romantic survival film.

“Oh, look over there,” she whispered in a hushed, faux-dramatic tone as she pointed to a patch of sunlight filtering through the leaves. “Nature has provided us with mood lighting for our romantic hike. It’s practically begging us to lean into the ‘lost lovers’ vibe.”

You gave her a disbelieving look, stifling a laugh. “You really know how to spin a narrative, don’t you?”

She flashed you a grin, proud of herself. “Hey, one of us has to lighten the mood. And, by the way, you’re welcome.” She glanced over, her eyes warm and inviting, and you couldn’t help but feel your defenses soften around her.

The path became a little trickier, with tangled roots and slick patches of mud, and Jimin offered you her hand to steady yourself more times than you’d care to admit. Each time, her hand lingered just a moment longer than necessary, and each time, you felt your resolve weaken just a little bit more.

“Jimin, I can handle myself, you know,” you protested lightly the fifth or sixth time she reached out to you, though you took her hand anyway. Her grip was warm and steady, a stark contrast to the damp chill that surrounded you.

“Sure, sure,” she said breezily, giving you a wink. “But where’s the fun in that? Besides,” she added, her voice dropping a little, “I like helping you. It’s nice to feel… needed.”

Her words caught you off guard, and you glanced over at her, but her expression was soft and sincere. For a moment, the playful mask had dropped, and you saw something else there—something that made your heart skip.

“Well,” you said softly, unsure of how to respond but unable to look away, “thanks, I guess.”

She shrugged, her smile returning as she released your hand, but not before giving it a little squeeze. “Anytime. It’s what co-workers… and adventure dates… are for.”

You gave her an exasperated look, but this time, you didn’t bother hiding your smile. “I’m sure this is the most unconventional adventure date of all time.”

Jimin just laughed, her voice ringing out through the quiet jungle, her happiness infectious. As you both continued onward, her flirtations and teasing became a little bolder, a little more natural, as if she were testing the waters between you with each lighthearted quip.

--

The two of you had been walking for what felt like hours, cutting through thick vines and maneuvering over gnarled roots, Jimin’s lighthearted banter punctuating the stillness of the jungle. Despite the challenging terrain, the growing camaraderie between you made the journey less daunting, even fun. But then, as you stepped around a massive tree trunk, everything changed in an instant.

Jimin froze beside you, her arm instinctively reaching out to block your path. You followed her gaze, feeling your heart drop as you spotted a snake in the clearing ahead, coiled and motionless at first. Its thick, scaled body gleamed in the filtered sunlight, but its head was raised, alert—and pointed directly at you.

“Don’t move,” Jimin whispered, her voice low and tense, as if any sound could set it off.

“Jimin…” you breathed, feeling a chill run down your spine. The snake’s body tensed, its gaze fixed on both of you, and you instinctively took a small step back. The movement seemed to trigger it. In a flash, it uncoiled, darting forward with terrifying speed.

“Y/N, stay back!” Jimin yelled, reacting on instinct. Without a second thought, she grabbed you and spun you behind her, shielding you with her own body as she faced the snake, her stance defensive.

The snake reared up, striking out, and Jimin quickly grabbed a nearby branch to hold it back. You watched, wide-eyed and breathless, as she waved the branch, creating enough space to maneuver backward with you. Her gaze stayed fixed on the snake as it hissed and snapped, still pressing toward you both, its anger evident.

“Just… keep moving, slow and steady,” she whispered, her voice tight as she pushed you back. “We don’t want to make it angrier.”

You obeyed, retreating step by step, but your heart raced wildly. Despite the danger, the way Jimin stayed protectively between you and the snake left you speechless, your nerves twisting into a strange blend of fear and… something else. Her hand never left your arm, holding you close even as she guided you both away.

Just as you thought you were out of reach, Jimin stumbled over a stray root, her grip on the branch slipping. The snake lunged forward, its body a flash of movement, and you instinctively grabbed her, steadying her before it could strike. Heart pounding, she managed to pull you both further back, the distance finally enough to make the snake give up its chase. It hissed once more before slithering off into the underbrush.

You let out a shaky breath, your hands still clutching Jimin’s arm as your eyes met hers. For a few seconds, neither of you said a word, the intensity of the moment leaving you both frozen in place.

“Are… are you okay?” she asked softly, her own breathing heavy as she took you in, concern etched on her face.

“Am I okay?” you replied, a shaky laugh escaping as you felt a strange warmth flood your cheeks. “You’re the one who just took on a snake!”

Jimin chuckled, her shoulders relaxing as she slowly lowered the branch and dropped it to the ground. “Guess I just couldn’t let anything happen to my favorite jungle explorer,” she quipped, her tone trying to lighten the mood, though her gaze stayed focused, her eyes scanning your face as if to make sure you were truly unharmed.

You exhaled, still holding onto her arm as the reality of what had just happened settled in. “You didn’t have to—”

“I know,” she interrupted gently, squeezing your hand. “But I wanted to. Besides,” she added, trying to play it cool, “I couldn’t let you go running off without me, right?”

Her words sparked something inside you, and the reality of her protectiveness, her quick instinct to shield you, left you speechless. “Jimin…” you whispered, not quite sure how to express what you were feeling. Your gratitude, your surprise, the slight flutter in your chest—it was all tangled up.

Jimin’s expression softened as she took a small step closer, her hand lifting to brush a stray leaf from your shoulder. “You look really flustered,” she said with a teasing smirk, trying to ease the tension with humor, but her voice held an unmistakable warmth. “Was it the snake, or was it me?”

You scoffed, a nervous laugh slipping out. “Just... I wasn’t expecting my trip partner to go full survival mode on me,” you muttered, your gaze dropping to the ground as you tried to process the overwhelming moment.

She tilted her head, a soft chuckle escaping. “Guess I surprised you, huh?” she whispered, her fingers tracing an absentminded pattern along your arm, her touch grounding you.

“You did,” you admitted, finally looking up to meet her gaze. “Thank you, though. Seriously.”

Her gaze softened further, her thumb brushing over your knuckles, and for a moment, it was as if the two of you were in your own little world, the jungle fading into the background. “Anytime,” she murmured, giving you a playful smile. “Now, come on. Let’s try not to make any more angry friends out here, yeah?”

And with that, she took your hand in hers, leading you onward, her grip steady and reassuring as you walked deeper into the jungle.

--

You and Jimin finally find a small stream after hours of trudging through dense foliage. The soft trickle of water over rocks is a relief, and you both settle down on a smooth boulder near the bank, grateful for the brief reprieve.

You take off your shoes and dip your feet into the cool water, sighing as the chill soothes the soreness from walking. Jimin follows suit, gingerly lowering her feet beside yours. The two of you sit in companionable silence for a moment, just listening to the sounds of the forest and the gentle stream.

“Honestly… I didn’t expect the jungle to be this intense,” Jimin says with a small laugh, breaking the quiet. “Or for us to end up lost like this.”

You smile, the tension of the day beginning to ease. “Maybe next time, we leave the navigating to someone who doesn’t have a talent for getting us into trouble.”

She grins, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Fair point. Though, I don’t know, it makes things interesting, don’t you think?”

“Interesting, maybe,” you reply, glancing at her with a small smile. “But it’s not exactly the ideal place to get lost.”

Jimin chuckles softly, but there’s a momentary flicker in her gaze as she looks away, her fingers lightly trailing over the water’s surface. The joking air between you both fades a little, and she seems to fall quiet, a pensive look crossing her face. She dips her head, absently tracing small circles in the water.

You give her a sidelong glance, sensing something she isn’t saying. “Hey, you okay?”

She hesitates, then smiles, but it’s a quieter smile than usual, lacking its usual spark. “I’m fine, yeah. Just thinking, I guess. You know… I joke around a lot, but it’s probably annoying sometimes, huh?”

The comment catches you off guard. You shake your head. “No, it’s not annoying. You’ve actually been keeping things… less terrible. Besides, that’s just who you are, right?”

“I guess.” She pauses, her fingers trailing over the rock beside her. “It’s funny, though. It’s like… if I didn’t make people laugh, they wouldn’t even notice I was there. And sometimes… I wonder if that’s all people see.”

Her voice drops, a vulnerability in her words that you’d never heard before. She’s looking down, her fingers absently playing with the edge of her shirt, and for once, the usual spark in her eyes has dimmed.

You hesitate, wanting to say the right thing. “Jimin, I know you’re funny and lighthearted, but I think that’s only one part of you. You’re… a lot more than that.”

She looks up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. “You really think so?”

“Yeah. You can be… thoughtful, too,” you say, glancing at her with a small smile. “You’re protective, like with that snake earlier. And you’re just… real. You’re not just hiding behind some persona.”

Jimin’s expression softens, and she smiles, a shy, almost relieved look crossing her face. “I guess I’ve just never thought of it like that,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping again.

There’s a quiet moment between you as she lets those words linger in the air. Something in your chest aches for her, for this hidden vulnerability she usually covers up so well. You reach over, your hand brushing hers, a comforting squeeze to let her know she’s not alone.

“I… care about both sides of you, Jimin. The funny, playful side, and the thoughtful side, too,” you say softly. “You don’t have to hide anything.”

Jimin turns to you, her expression unreadable for a moment, but then her eyes soften, a teasing glint appearing once again. “So, you do care about me after all, huh?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but a smile sneaks onto your face as you do. “Well, maybe a little bit,” you admit, your tone light, though there’s a warmth in your words that’s unmistakable.

Jimin grins, her confidence returning in that familiar, infectious way. “I knew it. Knew you’d come around eventually.”

You shake your head, amused but undeniably touched by the way she’s trusting you enough to let her guard down. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

She laughs, the sound echoing over the stream, but there’s a softness in her gaze as she looks at you, a gratitude that needs no words.

--

The steady flow of the stream had guided you both along as the day stretched on, the warm sun hanging in the sky. After hours of trekking through the dense jungle, you and Jimin stumbled upon a small, secluded cave hidden behind a waterfall. The perfect spot to rest for a while.

Jimin, ever the optimist, was quick to suggest a little fun, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "What do you say we jump into the waterfall, clothes and all?" she asked, grinning at you. You raised an eyebrow, skeptical at first, but the heat of the jungle and the lure of the cool water soon won you over.

You both stripped off your outer layers and leapt into the waterfall, laughing as the cold water hit your skin, splashing around in the flow of the rushing water. It was a strange freedom, something raw and invigorating, and for a few moments, you forgot about being lost in the jungle. But all too soon, the playful atmosphere shifted when you noticed the darkening sky.

"Uh-oh," Jimin said, squinting upwards. "That doesn't look good."

The rain began as a light drizzle, but it quickly turned into a downpour. Cold water, mixed with the chill of the air, hit your skin like little needles, and you both scrambled out of the waterfall, soaked to the bone. You rushed to the cave you’d spotted earlier, dripping wet as you sought refuge from the increasingly heavy rain.

Inside the cave, Jimin let out a loud, exaggerated groan as she shook her hair, spraying droplets everywhere. “Well, this is fun. I don’t think we planned for a jungle rainstorm.”

You glanced back at her, your teeth chattering. The temperature had dropped significantly, and it was clear you both needed to find a way to warm up. You quickly scanned the cave. “At least we’re out of the rain now,” you said. “Let’s get a fire going.”

Jimin nodded eagerly, and while you went about gathering some leaves and kindling for a makeshift bed and warmth, she started fiddling with a pile of sticks, trying to get a fire started. You both worked together in silence, each of you grateful for the brief respite. The rain continued to pound against the cave’s entrance, but you were safe for the moment.

As Jimin finally managed to start a fire, the warmth from the crackling flames began to feel like a blessing against the chill of the rain. You huddled near the fire, your clothes drenched and your body still shivering.

Jimin, clearly cold but still determined to keep up her playful attitude, shot you a mischievous grin. "So, what now? Should we just sit here and freeze, or...?"

You gave her a dry look. "I don’t know, Jimin. What do you suggest?"

Her grin widened, and she quickly looked around the cave. "Well, you mentioned getting warm earlier, right?" She raised an eyebrow at you, a glint of humor in her eyes. "How about we take off these wet clothes, let them dry by the fire, and maybe... cuddle to keep each other warm?"

Your breath hitched at her words, a mixture of surprise and something else fluttering in your chest. She was joking, right?

But Jimin, ever confident, started tugging at the hem of her shirt as if it was the most casual thing in the world. You blinked, flustered, unsure of what to do. "Wait—what are you doing?" you asked, voice coming out a little higher than you intended.

Jimin paused and glanced at you, confusion crossing her features. "What? You said we should get warm." She shrugged, unfazed, and continued to pull her wet shirt over her head. "Might as well make it efficient, right?"

Your eyes widened. "But... I—" You quickly averted your gaze, suddenly embarrassed. You hadn't expected her to take your suggestion so seriously. Still, as you glanced back, you couldn't help but notice how her well-defined back muscles flexed as she stripped off her shirt, leaving her in just her soaked pants.

Your heart was racing. You felt your cheeks flush as you awkwardly looked around the cave, trying to avoid looking directly at her. "Are you—uh—sure about this?" you asked, unsure of what was happening.

Jimin, now only in her underwear, was looking at you with a playful smirk, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Come on, you’re acting like this is something weird," she teased, her voice light and flirtatious. "We’re stranded in the jungle, remember? Might as well make the most of it."

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with thoughts of how ridiculous this situation was, but then again, you had to admit that you were both soaked and freezing. And... well... the idea of getting warm didn't seem all that terrible.

With a heavy sigh, you reached for the hem of your own wet shirt, deciding to go along with it. As you pulled it over your head and joined her in your underwear, you could feel your face burning hotter.

When you were both down to your underwear, Jimin laid down next to the makeshift bed you had put together with the leaves. The warmth of the fire cast a soft glow over the cave, making everything feel more intimate.

"Come on," Jimin said softly, patting the space next to her. "It's more comfortable here. Let’s just rest for a bit, yeah?"

You stared at her for a moment, trying to keep your composure, but there was something in her gaze that made your heart flutter. The silence between you felt charged, the space around you suddenly too small.

You slowly lowered yourself next to her, lying on your side, your eyes never leaving hers. The tension in the air was thick, the distance between you both a mere inch or two.

Jimin’s hand reached over to gently touch your waist, her fingertips grazing your skin. You inhaled sharply at the contact, a shiver running through you, though not from the cold. Her touch was warm, and it sent a jolt of heat through your body.

Without thinking, your hand moved to her cheek, brushing a loose strand of wet hair behind her ear. Her breath caught slightly at the soft gesture, and the closeness between you grew undeniable.

"Hi," she whispered softly, her voice barely more than a breath. You couldn't help but smile, your heart racing.

"Hi," you whispered back, your voice trembling just a little.

For a moment, you both just stared at each other, neither of you daring to move. But then, Jimin’s hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, drawing you even closer. Your hand instinctively found its way to the side of her face, your fingers lightly tracing her jaw.

And then, without a word, your lips met in a soft, hesitant kiss. The feeling of her lips against yours, warm and tender, made everything else disappear. The fire crackled behind you, but in this small, cozy cave, with the rain still pouring outside, all that mattered was the shared breath and the connection between you.

It was slow at first, a testing kiss, but the warmth between you grew with each passing second. You could feel her hand gently pressing at your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, and the tension that had been building for so long finally began to unravel.

She pushed you into your back, getting on top of you, her hands gripped your waist tighter, while yours moved from her cheeks to grip her hair, tugging it as you moaned into her mouth. She took the opportunity and slipped her tongue, rubbing it against yours.

Jimin pulled away, breathing heavily as she looked into your eyes. “Is this ok?” She panted. You nodded, pulling her back into a bruising kiss. Her hands moved down to your thighs, making your legs wrap around her waist, and moved her head down, leaving open, wet kisses on your neck and collarbones. She reached up, making you arch your back so that she could unfasten your bra, and you did the same as well. With one hand, she played with one of your breasts, while she took the other into her mouth, sucking and biting your nipple.

You whined, arching your back again and pulling her even closer to you. Jimin’s other hand moved downwards once more, playing with the strap of your panties. She looked up at you with hooded eyes, asking for permission. You whimpered and nodded, making her move your panties down. She kissed down the valley of your breasts and stomach, stopping at your chore.

Jimin breathed in and moaned. “You smell so good.” She whispered, and gave your clit a quick swipe with her tongue, making you let out a loud moan, with one hand you gripped her hair, while the other grabbed at whatever you could find in the ground.

Without wasting more time, Jimin dived in, eating you out as if you were her last meal. Her tongue moved in and out of your pussy while simultaneously sucking on your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, Jimin!” You screamed out, feeling in cloud nine. She hummed into your core, making you shudder with pleasure. Your moans sounded louder and louder each time, but when Jimin shoved in two fingers, you let out a gasp turned moan. She was good. Too good.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, Jimin.” You whimpered out, feeling your orgasm building up. She pulled away for a second, still having two fingers inside you while her thumb circled the 8 figure on your clit.

“Come for me, baby. Show me how good you feel.” She encouraged. Your back arched once more, letting out a pornographic moan as you felt the tightening on your stomach snap, and you came.

You only saw white for a minute, trying to calm down your breathing, twitching from time to time as Jimin cleaned you up with her tongue.

Jimin sat up on her legs for a second, looking at you. She thought you looked beautiful like that. Your eyes that were half closed in euphoria, your chest heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath, your body in a thin sheet of sweat, that glistened with the light of the fire. You looked stunning in her eyes.

After seeing that you had managed to catch your breath, Jimin grabbed one of your legs, putting it up on her shoulder, she slotted the other between hers, both your clits touching. Both of you moaned at the feeling, and she started to grind against you. The feeling of your cores together made you let out the loudest moan again.

“Hmm, does that feel good?” Jimin teased, a smirk on her face as she looked you in the eyes. You nodded, blushing as you put a hand over your eyes. She had an intense look in her eyes making you shy. “Come on now, darling. Don’t hide that beautiful face from me.” She cooed, her hand that wasn’t gripping your ankle moved to grab your wrist. “Be a good girl for me and keep those eyes open, ok?”

You were sure that the moan you let out shook all the animals outside from how loud it was. You looked at her, the way her well defined abdomen flexed everytime she thrusted forwards, how her eyebrows furrowed with concentration, how hot the small grunts that left her lips were. God.

“I’m-I’m coming again, Jimin.” You managed to whine out, but she shook her head in disagreement.

“Wait for me, my love. Let’s come together.” She panted out, grinding against you even faster. You nodded and your eyes closed in concentration, trying not to come just by the nickname. “I’m so close, baby, so so close.”

You sobbed in pleasure, not knowing how much longer you could hold on to. “Please, Jimin. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Come baby, come for me.” She moaned, and grinded even harder. With a last moan, you let go, Jimin close behind you. Your mind was in a haze, you couldn’t even think. Jimin rode both of you out of your orgasms. Once you whined from sensitivity, she let go of you leg gently and looked down at the mess.

With her two middle fingers, she reached down and cooped up some of your mixed juices, putting them in her mouth while looking you in the eyes. She let out a moan at the taste. “Stick your tongue out.” She demanded.

Once you did, she leaned down and took it into her mouth, sucking it. You moaned at the lingering taste of both your cums combined. Once she pulled away she kissed your forehead. 

“Tired?” She asked you, her hand running through your messy hair. You nodded, feeling your eyelids get heavier at the feeling. “Ok, let’s sleep.”

The sound of rain falling and thunder lulled both of you to sleep, with your head on her chest and her arms around your waist in a protective manner.

--

The morning after the storm was damp and heavy, the jungle floor slick with mud and puddles, making every step feel like a chore. You and Jimin trudged along the barely-there path, both of you weary from the days spent navigating this unyielding wilderness, definitely not from last night. For a while, the only sounds were the soft squelch of mud beneath your shoes and the distant calls of unseen birds echoing through the trees.

Jimin, as always, was beside you, humming to herself, seemingly unfazed by the worsening situation. It was beginning to wear on you—the endless walking, the uncertainty of your location, the dampness of your clothes clinging to you—and the fact that despite your efforts, you still had no idea how to get out of the jungle. The sun was sinking lower, casting an orange glow across the trees, and there was no sign of civilization in sight.

"Ugh," you muttered under your breath, pushing your hair out of your face in frustration. "This is ridiculous."

Jimin shot you a playful glance. "What’s up? Did the jungle get to you?" she teased, stepping over a fallen branch as though it were nothing.

"It's not funny, Jimin," you snapped, your temper fraying at the edges. "We’ve been walking for hours and have no clue where we are. You keep getting distracted and we’re still nowhere closer to finding a way out!"

Her smile faltered for a second, but she quickly recovered, trying to lighten the mood. "Come on, it’s like Jumanji. If we make it to the top and scream ‘Jumanji,’ I’m sure we’ll be out of here in no time!" she joked, her voice light.

You stared at her, exasperated. "This isn’t a joke, Jimin. This is real. We’re lost. We don’t have food. It’s starting to get dark. And you—" You paused, your frustration taking over. "You keep acting like everything’s fine when it’s not."

The air between you thickened. Jimin didn’t respond immediately, her eyes flicking away from yours. You knew she was trying to deflect the tension, but it wasn’t working. She had always been like this—clumsy, absent-minded, carefree, but in moments like these, it just seemed like she wasn’t taking things seriously enough. The pressure of being stuck here, in this place that felt so endless and uncertain, was wearing you thin.

For a moment, Jimin remained quiet, and the teasing, playful energy around her slowly faded. You didn’t know why it felt like such a weight, but it did. Then, Jimin’s voice broke the silence, softer than usual.

"I’m sorry," she said, her tone uncharacteristically serious. "I know you’re frustrated. I’ve just been trying to make it fun, y’know? But... I guess I’ve been making it worse."

You looked at her, surprised by the shift in her attitude. There was no usual wink, no teasing smile, just a genuine sadness in her eyes.

She met your gaze, her expression unreadable. "I didn’t mean to make it harder for you. I know you’re trying to stay calm and figure things out. I’m... I’m sorry."

Your chest tightened, the anger you’d felt slipping away as quickly as it had come. You took a deep breath, realizing that, maybe, you were just as much to blame for the tension between you two. You hadn’t meant to snap at her like that. She was trying, in her own way, and it had been a long, exhausting day for both of you.

You sighed, your gaze softening. "No, Jimin, it’s not just you," you admitted. "I’m just... really frustrated. And scared, honestly. I don’t want to be lost here forever. I’m just... worried, okay?"

Jimin stayed quiet for a long time, her eyes searching your face. The tension in the air seemed to melt, replaced by something softer, something vulnerable. She gently nudged your arm with her shoulder, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"You know, if I had to be stuck with anyone in the jungle, I’m glad it’s you," you said, your voice quieter, more sincere. "I might be mad at the situation, but... I’m glad it’s you here with me."

Her eyes widened slightly, then softened with warmth. "I’m glad it’s you too," she murmured, her voice small but genuine.

You hesitated, then spoke again, a little more quietly this time. "I was... worried last night didn’t mean anything to you," she confessed, her voice a little shaky. "I was just so scared of—well, you know, how things could change after that."

Your heart skipped a beat, and your cheeks heated up. You hadn’t expected her to bring it up, not like this. You had your own fears, your own doubts. You thought she might have been joking, but hearing her voice crack like that made everything feel too real, too vulnerable.

"I don’t think you’re stupid for thinking that," you said softly, glancing down at your feet. "It did mean something to me. A lot, actually."

Jimin’s eyes searched your face, as if looking for any hint of truth. When she didn’t find any signs of you lying, she relaxed a little, her shoulders dropping as if a weight had been lifted. You could see her visibly exhale, the tension that had been in her body fading.

"I just—" You felt a lump form in your throat. "I’m just scared of not being found, you know? Not knowing if we’ll ever get out of here... It’s overwhelming."

Jimin’s gaze softened, her lips curling into a small smile. "I get it. I’m scared too. But hey," she said, nudging your shoulder with hers again, "we’re together. And I’m not leaving you."

You met her eyes, the sincerity in them reaching deep into your chest. "Thanks, Jimin," you murmured, feeling your heart swell with something more than just gratitude.

She smiled again, a little more teasing now, but the warmth in her eyes was unmistakable. "Of course," she said, "I’m your jungle guide, remember?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head, and you grabbed her hand, interlocking fingers. Both of you walked onward, a little closer, a little more at peace with the chaos around you.

--

As dusk fell, the jungle’s colors softened, bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun. Jimin crouched beside a small, flickering fire, carefully arranging a modest “feast” she’d put together from whatever she’d managed to gather that day. She’d scoured nearby bushes for a handful of berries, found a few edible roots, and portioned out the last bits of snacks left from their supply. Despite the meager offerings, she presented them with a proud little smile.

You sat nearby, watching her in silence, and noticed the nervous flicker in her gaze when she glanced your way. She was clearly trying her best, and for a moment, the effort she’d gone to melted away some of your lingering frustrations from the day.

“Alright,” she announced, brushing her hands off and setting her makeshift ‘spread’ in front of you, “it’s not exactly a gourmet meal, but I’d say it’s a fitting peace offering. What do you think?”

You couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at your lips. The gesture was sweet, in the end. “I think it’s… perfect,” you said with a chuckle, letting a bit of warmth slip into your tone. “As far as jungle dining goes, you really went all out.”

Jimin sat down across from you, her expression softening. “I know I’m not the easiest to be around sometimes,” she admitted, scratching the back of her head, “and I definitely didn’t make things easier by getting us lost out here. So… I just wanted to say I’m sorry, for real.”

You met her gaze, and something about the sincerity in her eyes stirred something in you—a tug of warmth, a release of the tension that had been building between you both.

“Jimin… thank you,” you murmured, looking down at the ‘feast’ she’d prepared. “Honestly, even though you can drive me up a wall… I’m glad you’re here. I’m not sure I’d be handling all this as well on my own.”

Her face lit up at your words, and she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “I knew it,” she said with a playful glint in her eye. “You like having me around, admit it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “Fine,” you said, pretending to be reluctant. “Maybe you’re not completely unbearable.”

She chuckled, reaching over to brush a stray piece of hair from your face, her fingers lingering against your cheek just a second longer than necessary. Her smile softened.

The silence stretched, comfortable yet charged. You could feel her gaze locked onto you, tracing the gentle lines of your face, and your breath hitched slightly as her hand slowly dropped from your cheek. She leaned in, her eyes never leaving yours, and you found yourself drawn closer, the space between you shrinking until you could feel the warmth of her breath.

Under the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the trees, her lips met yours, gentle at first. You leaned in, your hands coming up to rest on her shoulders, pulling her just a bit closer. She responded, her lips pressing more firmly against yours as the kiss deepened, the world around you melting into the quiet hum of the night.

When you finally pulled back, your faces still inches apart, you found yourself smiling, cheeks flushed. Jimin’s eyes sparkled in the moonlight, her playful expression gone, replaced by something tender.

“Well…” she whispered, breathless and smiling. “Guess it’s official—you’re stuck with me.”

--

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the makeshift camp as night settled in. You and Jimin sat close to the flames, the night air cool but comfortable. The silence between you was soft, contemplative, as if both of you sensed there was more to say but weren’t sure where to begin.

Jimin leaned back, stretching her legs toward the fire, her shoulder brushing against yours. She let out a deep sigh and glanced over at you, her expression thoughtful. “You know… there aren’t many people I’d want to be stuck with out here,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But I think… I’m pretty lucky it’s you.”

You felt your cheeks warm as she looked at you, her gaze steady and sincere. “Really?” you murmured, tilting your head as you studied her face. “I thought I was the one lucky to be stuck with you.”

Jimin chuckled, shaking her head. “I know I joke around a lot, and I know I’m kind of… well, clumsy and all over the place. It’s hard to be serious about stuff. But with you… I feel like I don’t have to pretend to be anything else. I can just be… me.”

Her words settled around you, stirring something warm in your chest. “I get that,” you admitted softly, surprised at how natural it felt to open up to her. “I think I’ve always been so focused on keeping it together, on being the responsible one… I sometimes forget to let my guard down.” You looked down, feeling a little exposed but relieved to finally voice what you’d held back.

Jimin nodded, a sympathetic look crossing her face. She reached out, brushing her fingers gently over the back of your hand. Her touch was light, but it sent a soft shiver down your spine, a reminder of how much closer you both had become over the past few days. “Then maybe we’re both learning how to be ourselves a little better,” she murmured. “Together.”

Without thinking, you slid your hand over hers, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. Jimin looked down at your hand covering hers, a small smile spreading across her face. “Guess we make a pretty good team, huh?” she said, leaning into you a little.

You nodded, your voice quiet but sure. “Yeah… we do.”

The conversation drifted on, each of you sharing small pieces of yourselves, moments and memories that you hadn’t told anyone else. The firelight flickered, illuminating the soft expressions on both your faces, the shared laughter, and the subtle way Jimin’s hand remained in yours, never breaking contact.

As the night grew late and the fire burned low, Jimin let out a small yawn, stretching her arms overhead before lying back on the ground beside you. She looked up at you, patting the spot next to her, and you lay down as well, feeling her warmth radiate beside you as the cool night air settled in.

Without a word, Jimin draped her arm over you, pulling you close as you shifted into her embrace. Her fingers brushed softly over your back, a soothing rhythm that matched the steady beat of her heart against yours. “This okay?” she whispered, her voice soft.

You nodded, leaning your forehead against her shoulder. “Yeah,” you murmured, your own arm slipping around her waist. “This is perfect.”

Jimin’s fingers traced lazy circles along your back as you lay together, her touch warm and comforting. The night sounds of the jungle surrounded you both, but for the first time since you’d arrived, you felt completely safe, anchored by her presence. The quiet grew deeper, words fading away as you settled into the warmth of her embrace, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.

For a moment, Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, and you felt her arms tighten around you, as if she were trying to keep you close even in sleep. A small smile tugged at your lips as you relaxed into her touch, letting the sense of comfort and understanding wash over you.

And in that moment, there was no fear, no frustration—only the steady warmth of her arms around you as sleep gently pulled you both into its embrace.

--

The sun was barely filtering through the dense canopy as you and Jimin carefully trekked deeper into the jungle, pushing past vines and thick vegetation that seemed to cling to every step. After the peaceful closeness of last night, the silence between you was comfortable, each of you sharing the occasional smile as you moved along. But as the hours stretched on, an uneasy feeling began to settle in the pit of your stomach. It was quieter than usual, the normal jungle sounds muffled, and every shadow seemed to stretch just a little longer than before.

You slowed down, glancing nervously over at Jimin, who seemed oblivious as she hummed a tune under her breath, her usual upbeat self. “Do you hear that?” you whispered, stopping in your tracks. Jimin halted beside you, looking around as she tilted her head. “Hear what?”

But before you could answer, a low, growling sound rumbled from somewhere close by. You both froze, every muscle tensing as the growl echoed through the dense trees. Slowly, you turned toward the direction of the sound, and there, partially hidden in the shadows, was a large, sleek figure—a wild cat, its intense eyes fixed right on the two of you.

“Jimin,” you whispered, barely able to breathe. She instinctively moved in front of you, her arm stretched protectively, her body suddenly rigid with tension. “Stay behind me,” she murmured, never taking her eyes off the wildcat.

Without warning, the animal lunged. Your stomach dropped as you both scrambled to dodge it, stumbling backward. “Run!” Jimin yelled, grabbing your hand and pulling you along the jungle path as you both broke into a desperate sprint. You could hear the wildcat’s low growls and snapping branches behind you, its chase relentless as it closed in, and a surge of pure terror shot through you.

Jimin kept a tight hold on your hand, leading you down a narrow path through the trees. But in her haste, she tripped over a root, sending you both sprawling forward. You hit the ground hard, leaves and dirt scraping against your skin as you fought to stand, the wildcat’s growls now terrifyingly close. Just as you struggled up, you felt its claws brush past your leg, inches from grabbing hold. Heart pounding, you staggered back, feeling yourself shake from the close call.

In a surge of determination, Jimin grabbed a large branch off the ground and turned to face the animal, her eyes fierce despite the fear evident in them. “Come on, you overgrown housecat!” she shouted, her voice wavering slightly. She swung the branch as the wildcat lunged again, managing to hit it hard across the side. The animal yelped in pain and backed off, momentarily stunned but still watching you both with menacing eyes.

With a quick glance back at you, Jimin picked up a fist-sized rock and threw it with all her strength, catching the wildcat square on the nose. The animal growled and hissed, finally retreating into the shadows, its eyes glinting as it slinked back into the dense jungle.

For a few moments, neither of you moved, both breathing hard as you processed what just happened. Your body was shaking, your hands scraped and sore, but the sight of Jimin, fiercely protective and standing between you and the wildcat, grounded you.

“Are you okay?” she asked, turning to you, her eyes softening in concern as she took in your frightened expression and the small cuts on your arms and legs.

You managed a shaky nod, trying to keep the trembling in your voice under control. “I—I think so,” you said, exhaling deeply. “But that was too close.”

Jimin’s shoulders dropped in relief, her face breaking into a small, reassuring smile as she reached over, gently brushing a stray leaf out of your hair. “Good… I thought I was going to lose you back there,” she admitted softly, her tone far more serious than usual.

“I thought I was a goner,” you replied, half-laughing as the tension finally started to ease. “And here I was thinking you’d be the one I’d need to protect.”

Jimin chuckled, her gaze warm as she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Guess I just couldn’t let anything happen to my favorite jungle companion,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “Annoying as I am, I like having you around.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “I don’t know how to say this,” you began, your tone half-teasing, “but I’m actually… impressed.”

“Is that so?” she smirked, her playful demeanor returning as she leaned in close, her eyes searching yours. “Then let’s call it even—today, you get to be the damsel in distress, and I’ll be your knight in shining armor.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You were clumsy the entire way, and yet here we are. So maybe I do need you around after all.”

Jimin’s expression softened, and she brushed her fingers across your cheek. “Well, good, because I’m not planning on going anywhere without you.”

--

The jungle was surprisingly quiet that night, the hum of insects and occasional rustle of leaves blending into a gentle symphony that seemed to wrap you and Jimin in its embrace. The fire crackled low between you, casting soft shadows over her face as you both settled into a rare moment of calm after the chaos of the past few days. You glanced at Jimin, who was lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the flames. She looked different in this quiet moment, more grounded, and something in your chest tightened at the sight.

The words lingered on the edge of your mind, hesitant to be spoken, but you found yourself breaking the silence. "Jimin," you began, voice soft but steady. She looked up, her eyes meeting yours, and the warmth in her gaze somehow made you bolder. "I didn’t think I’d be saying this, but... I’ve actually grown to like being around you."

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, a slow smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Really now?" she said, her voice soft but playful. She shifted a bit closer, her fingers brushing against yours in a way that sent a small thrill up your spine. “Are you saying I’ve somehow charmed you with all my clumsiness and terrible sense of direction?”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warming under her amused stare. “I guess that’s one way to put it,” you mumbled, struggling to maintain your composure. “It’s… been nice to have you around, I guess. Even if you almost got us killed a few times.”

She laughed, the sound rich and comforting. “I like having you around too,” she said, her voice softening. Her fingers lingered over yours, almost testing the waters, and then she gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "And for the record, if I got us lost just so we’d end up on this little adventure together, I think it was worth it.”

You snorted, unable to hide your smile. “Oh, so this was all part of your elaborate plan, was it?”

“Absolutely.” Her tone was teasing, but there was a glint of sincerity in her eyes that caught you off guard. She shifted even closer, her eyes never leaving yours. “So… does that mean I’ve earned a second date after all?”

You felt a jolt run through you at her words, warmth pooling in your stomach as you tried to hold back a smile. “A second date?” you echoed, the words a bit flustered as you met her gaze. “This isn’t exactly what I’d call a first date, Jimin.”

She tilted her head, grinning mischievously. “Well, if it was, then I’d say it was pretty memorable.” Her gaze grew a bit more intense, and she leaned in, her face mere inches from yours. “But if you don’t see it that way, maybe I should’ve taken it slower with you. Didn’t know you were the type to jump right to…” She trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

You felt your cheeks heat up, caught completely off guard by her boldness. “That was… different,” you stammered, struggling to keep your cool under her teasing gaze. “I don’t usually… it’s not…”

Jimin chuckled softly, her hand tightening around yours. “Relax,” she whispered, her tone gentler now. “I’m just messing with you.” She brushed her thumb over your knuckles, her eyes soft as she studied your face. “But, for what it’s worth… I’m glad we ended up here together.”

The vulnerability in her voice made you pause, your heart skipping a beat as you took in the expression on her face—open, genuine, and maybe even a little bit nervous. The same feeling settled in your own chest, the realization that you didn’t just enjoy Jimin’s company; you genuinely liked her, maybe more than you’d admitted to yourself.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there in silence, your hands still intertwined. The air felt heavy with unsaid words, the jungle around you somehow amplifying the weight of the moment. Slowly, you leaned forward, your face so close to hers that you could see the faint rise and fall of her breathing.

And then, with a soft, nervous laugh, you whispered, “So… maybe a second date wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Jimin’s eyes sparkled, her smile widening as she brought your hand to her lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she murmured, her voice filled with warmth

--

The morning light cut through the dense canopy, its warmth a reminder that you had somehow survived yet another night in the wild. Every muscle in your body ached, and a strange, bittersweet quiet hung between you and Jimin as you packed up the small camp. Last night had been a whirlwind of relief, confessions, and laughter—and though you hadn’t said it out loud, part of you dreaded leaving the small, strange world the two of you had created here.

As you pushed forward, both of you moving slower than the past days, Jimin kept glancing back at you. You caught her eye more than once, and each time she’d flash you a small, encouraging smile, the kind that made your heart race no matter how many times you saw it. The silence between you was comfortable, weighted only by the feeling that you were nearing the end of something beautiful and rare.

Just as you were beginning to think the forest would stretch on forever, you heard it. A distant, rhythmic thump. Jimin stopped mid-step, her eyes widening as she turned to you, her face a mixture of disbelief and hope.

"Do you hear that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You strained to listen, feeling the pulse of the sound reverberate through the trees. And then it hit you—a helicopter. A real, tangible reminder that the world beyond the jungle hadn’t forgotten you. Relief flooded your chest, and Jimin let out a breathless laugh, her eyes shining as she grabbed your hand.

“Come on!” she exclaimed, pulling you toward an open clearing she’d spotted nearby.

You stumbled together, tripping over roots and branches in your haste until you both broke free from the tree cover. Together, you waved your arms, shouting and hoping with all your heart that the search team would see you. The helicopter seemed to pause, and then it began circling lower. Jimin’s face broke into a grin, and she tightened her grip on your hand, shaking it slightly as if you were sharing a private celebration.

"We’re going home," she whispered, her voice full of awe and gratitude. But as the sound of the helicopter grew louder, the realization hit you both that this—this strange, shared adventure—was about to become a memory.

Jimin’s smile softened, and her eyes met yours with an intensity that sent a shiver through you. She looked at you like she was memorizing every detail, every freckle, and every line. “Guess this is it,” she murmured, a note of wistfulness in her voice. “Our little jungle getaway is officially over.”

Your throat tightened as you swallowed, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Yeah… guess we’re going back to reality.” It sounded strange to say it out loud, as if speaking it made the end more real.

She lifted her hand to your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin with a gentleness that made your heart twist. “Reality isn’t so bad, though, is it?” she murmured, a teasing glint breaking through her serious expression. “Besides… I think we still owe each other a real first date. You know, with less mud and maybe a shower?”

You laughed, a small, shaky sound that was half relief, half longing. “Deal,” you said, voice soft but sure. “But no jungle hikes, please.”

Jimin let out a small laugh, her gaze never leaving yours. “No jungle hikes,” she promised, though her smirk suggested that she’d find another way to keep you on your toes. She held onto your hand a moment longer, thumb brushing over your knuckles as if she, too, was reluctant to let go. So she didn’t, she pulled you closer and kissed you hard and deep, full of emotions. She beamed at you once you both pulled away, making you break out in a grin of your own, happy evident in both your eyes.

The helicopter hovered just overhead, its blades kicking up a fierce wind that whipped through the trees and pulled you both back to the present. The rescue crew lowered a ladder, and one of them gestured for you to climb. Jimin gave your hand a final squeeze, releasing you with a soft smile.

“After you,” she said, a hint of playfulness slipping back into her voice, but her eyes were full of something deeper—something that made your heart skip a beat.

Climbing the ladder, you stole a glance down to see her watching you with a wistful smile, her gaze filled with promises. And as she climbed up behind you, the roar of the helicopter above you and the rush of wind around you, you felt a pang of something bittersweet. It was over. No more snakes, no more wildcats, no more berries; for a while at least.

By the time you settled into the helicopter, you were both quiet, letting the weight of everything that had happened sink in. Jimin’s hand found yours again as the helicopter lifted, squeezing it with a gentle reassurance. As the jungle began to shrink below you, you realized that even though you were leaving it behind, the closeness you’d found here wouldn’t fade.

Jimin turned to you as you neared the edge of the jungle, her voice barely audible over the helicopter's hum. "Maybe reality can be our next adventure," she said, her eyes bright with that familiar spark.

--

The fluorescent lights hummed softly above you, the steady buzz filling the otherwise quiet lab as you wrapped up your final tasks of the day. The sterile, clinical atmosphere seemed like a lifetime away from the jungle you’d left behind only a week ago. Your heart still carried the echoes of that wild, exhausting adventure—the adrenaline of survival, the closeness you’d shared with Jimin, and the overwhelming emotions that came with it. It was all so vivid in your mind, impossible to erase, and sometimes, it felt like you could still hear the rustling leaves, feel the humidity on your skin, and even catch a glimpse of Jimin’s teasing smile.

“Hey, got a minute?” Jimin’s voice broke through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. You looked up to find her leaning casually against the doorframe, her usual confidence on display, but with an unmistakable softness in her eyes. She was wearing her usual jeans and t-shirt, but somehow she seemed different—less like the clumsy, adventurous woman you had gotten to know in the jungle, and more like the person who had somehow wormed her way under your skin.

You smiled at the sight of her, your pulse picking up despite your best efforts to remain composed. “Yeah, what’s up?” You didn’t need to ask—it was obvious that she was here for something, and you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was on her mind. After everything that had happened, things felt... different between the two of you.

Jimin stepped further into the lab, her hands slipping into her pockets as she walked toward you. “I was just thinking…” She trailed off, her gaze flicking to the floor for a moment as she scratched the back of her neck. “You know, we never actually got around to that second date.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Second date?” The idea felt almost surreal, considering everything that had happened. But here she was, standing before you, asking for something as normal as dinner. You tried not to think too much about how quickly your heart began to race.

She nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah. I mean, I know we were kind of busy—what with all the, you know, being stuck in the jungle and running from wildcats—but I figured since we’re back to regular life now, we should give this whole ‘date’ thing another shot. A real one this time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her suggestion. “You’re sure you’re not just trying to make up for all the times you almost got us both killed in the jungle?”

Jimin made an exaggerated offended face, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. “Hey, that’s unfair. I was—” She paused, dramatically placing a hand over her heart. “—a brave and fearless leader. You were the one who didn’t trust me with the map.”

“Trust you? You were reading the map upside down!” you shot back, unable to keep the grin off your face. There was something about her that made it impossible to stay annoyed for long. Even now, when things were back to normal, the memory of her teasing and her warmth still lingered in the air.

“Alright, alright, you’ve made your point,” Jimin said, shaking her head with a grin. “But seriously. What do you think? How about that second date? No wild animals, no getting lost—just you and me, a nice dinner, and the chance to actually talk without worrying about survival.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. You’d spent so many days feeling frustrated and confused about how close you’d gotten to Jimin, how you felt drawn to her despite the clashing parts of your personalities. But here she was, asking for something real. You couldn’t ignore the fluttering in your stomach as you thought about it.

You leaned back against the desk, trying to appear nonchalant despite the growing warmth in your chest. “You really think dinner’s going to make up for the chaos of the past week?” you teased, but there was a softness to your tone that betrayed how much you appreciated her persistence. Despite all the joking, despite how annoyed you’d gotten at times, there was a part of you that had found solace in her presence. And the more you thought about it, the more you realized how much you wanted to explore this, whatever it was between you.

Jimin’s eyes sparkled. “Well, we don’t have to call it a ‘makeup’ dinner, but yeah… I’d really like to see you outside of that jungle madness. Just us. No distractions. No dangerous animals.” She stepped closer, her voice lowering. “Maybe… just a quiet evening with a little less chaos?”

Her words hung in the air for a moment, and despite the playful tone, you could sense the sincerity behind them. Jimin had a way of making everything seem lighthearted, even when it mattered most. It wasn’t that she was just carefree; she had this way of carrying the weight of the world lightly, as though nothing could truly bring her down. And you admired that. But there was also something else there, something deeper, hidden behind that playful façade.

“Okay,” you finally said, your voice quieter than you intended, the simple word feeling like it carried so much more weight than it should. “A second date. I think that sounds… nice.”

Jimin’s eyes lit up in delight, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She seemed genuinely happy, her face breaking into a grin that made your heart skip a beat. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, as if savoring the moment, before her expression softened and she took a step closer.

“So, dinner tomorrow?” she asked, her voice laced with that same playful tone. But this time, there was something more vulnerable about it. Something quieter, more uncertain, as if she wasn’t quite sure what you’d say next.

You nodded, your heart thumping in your chest. “Yeah,” you said, swallowing back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. “Dinner tomorrow. Sounds perfect.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, both unsure of what to say next. It felt like there was a new energy between you, an unspoken understanding that things were changing. The jungle was behind you, but the feelings you’d shared in those wild days hadn’t gone away. If anything, they were growing stronger.

Then, without warning, Jimin took a small step closer, her hand reaching out to brush against yours. Her touch was light but steady, her fingers grazing yours in a way that felt so familiar and yet so new. You felt your breath catch in your throat as she looked at you with those soft, dark eyes of hers.

“I didn’t think I’d miss getting lost in the jungle,” she said softly, her gaze never leaving yours. “But I kind of do.”

You felt a laugh bubble up from your chest, but it was soft, a little breathless. “Yeah, it wasn’t so bad after all,” you replied, the words feeling lighter now that the tension had broken. You felt more at ease, more certain about what you wanted.

You didn’t give yourself a chance to second-guess. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, closing the space between you. Her lips were soft, warm against yours, and the kiss was everything you hadn’t known you needed. It was gentle at first, almost tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters, unsure of how to move forward. But as you kissed her again, deeper this time, there was a sweetness to it that made everything feel right. The world outside the lab, outside of everything that had happened, faded into the background.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless, smiles lingering on your lips.

“So… tomorrow, yeah?” Jimin asked again, her voice soft, almost shy now, as if the kiss had made her feel just as vulnerable as you.

You smiled, a little unsure of yourself but more than ready for whatever this new chapter was going to be. “It’s a date,” you whispered.

a/n: tried a new writing style!

[sorceresssundries]

A Study of Hands

Pairing: Emmrich x Female Rook

Tags: Oral Sex, masturbation, Porn with Feelings, Emmrich Volkarin being a soft dom.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: First Veilguard fic and it's smut. I am nothing if not predictable. Anyway, I had a vision of Emmrich very slowly taking off all that slutty jewellery he wears and then this happened.

Bon appetit!!! <3

Another battle done, another day survived. More bruises to body and ego. Things had not gone as planned - they so rarely did these days. But Rook was still alive, and so was the team. So was Emmrich.

She had retreated to her quarters to breathe, to let the steady, reliable rhythm of her lungs remind her she was here, still standing. Her love, as usual, wasn’t far behind her. 

His breathing was not as steady as hers. 

“You almost died,” he said, his voice tight as he crossed the room. Without hesitation, he reached for her, his elegant fingers brushing along her jaw, trailing softly across her cheekbone, where a bruise was just beginning to bloom into full colour.

She winced at the contact, and he immediately began to pull his hand away. She stopped him, covering his hand with hers, holding it in place. She needed to feel his touch, even if it hurt. 

“But I didn’t”, She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, pretending for a moment that they weren’t in the Fade, weren’t in someone else’s domain. That they were somewhere real, somewhere with day and night and time and a heartbeat. Maker, she thought, i’d give anything for more time. 

“I’m pretty tough,” she added, opening her eyes and smirking at him, trying for a lightness that didn’t quite escape the shadows. “It will take more than merely two unkillable Gods and a few hundred...”

Her teasing faltered as his lips crashed into hers, cutting her words short. His hand slid from her cheek to cradle the back of her head, holding her to him as though she might vanish if he let go. 

Too soon, he pulled back, his lips leaving hers as abruptly as they’d claimed them. The fire simmered and waited. He looked at her, his breathing ragged, and in his eyes, she saw everything he didn’t say - the fear, the need, the relief.

“I… My apologies,” he said, his voice uneven as he stepped back, running a glittering, ring-adorned hand through his hair. “I lost the run of myself. Adrenaline has… certain effects on the body, and I am only flesh and blood, after all. And you…”

“Emmrich,” she interrupted, her voice sharper than she intended. “If you start with your gallantry, I swear I’ll crack the spine of every book you own.”

That drew a quiet, warm laugh from him, and the tension in his posture eased just slightly. He rubbed the back of his neck, a crooked, sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

His gaze flicked over her, lingering on the bruises that mocked him with their shameless display of her mortality. He was always so eloquent, so dexterous and purposeful with his words, but they had all abandoned him now. He couldn’t think of how to express the depth of his feelings; perhaps there were no words for it, or perhaps they had been stolen along with his heart.

Finally, he made a weak attempt, “Darling, I cannot watch you almost slip away again.”

“I didn’t slip away. I’m right here.” She stepped closer, placing a hand over his chest, feeling the wild thrum of his heart beneath the layers of fine fabric. “And so are you.”

Before she realised it, her back hit the wall, her smaller body bracketed by his. His hand left her hair, trailing down to cup her jaw, his thumb brushing the edge of her bruised cheek like an apology. She felt the tremor in his touch, the barely restrained hunger in the way his lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, down to the curve of her neck. His breath was hot against her skin, and her knees almost buckled when he nipped lightly at the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“Emmrich,” she managed to breathe, her voice shaky. He hummed softly at the sound of his name on her lips, his fingers splayed against the small of her back.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured against her throat, his voice dark velvet. His lips were back on hers, swallowing whatever words she might have said. Her hands slid up to his hair,  and the low, rumbling sound he made at the sensation sent sparks dancing across her skin.

She had lost sight of him earlier, during the battle. She thought she had lost him completely. 

A brief silence settled between them, not awkward, but heavy with the unspoken. Their combined breaths mingled in the narrow space left between their bodies. His eyes searched hers. 

“Is everything all right?” He pulled back, his hand still cupping her face. “We can stop here, if that’s what you want,” he murmured, his voice and eyes kind. 

She shook her head, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Don’t stop,” she whispered. 

He leant in slowly, giving her every opportunity to change her mind. But her mind was as steeled and immovable as her newly-given heart. 

Emmrich’s hands moved with care, sliding from Rook’s face down to her hips. Without breaking the kiss, he guided her gently, his touch featherlight, until the backs of her knees met the edge of the sofa. His lips parted from hers just long enough to whisper, “Lie back for me, my love.”

She obeyed, her breath shallow, her body alight beneath his gaze. Emmrich undressed her slowly, reverently, as though she were a gift so desired, so deeply hoped for, that to rush would dishonour the moment. Each button of her blouse came undone with measured precision, his hands never faltering.

When he pushed the fabric from her shoulders his breath caught, his lips parting slightly as though the sight of her had stolen the air from his very lungs.

“Beautiful”, he said as he took in her soft and scar-flecked skin in the pulsing blue light of the aquarium, making the marks and lines of her body dance like an aurora across a midnight sky. 

His hands came to rest on her waist as he knelt above her, his fingers flexing around her sides, thumbs brushing her abdomen. She arched under his touch, her back bowing instinctively, and a shiver passed through her at the cool press of his rings and bangles against the heat of her sensitised skin. Leaning forward, he pressed a long, devoted kiss to the space between her bare breasts, lingering there as though offering a silent prayer. Then, without a word, he let her go and stepped away.

Rook’s eyes snapped open, her breath hitching as the loss of his warmth sent panic flooding through her. She sat up, her mind racing. Had she done something wrong? Too much? Not enough?

Her fears were met with the sound of his soft, rich chuckle - intoxicating as aged brandy. Standing by the small bowl on her dressing table, Emmrich lifted his eyes to hers, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Apologies, darling,” he said, his tone smooth, “Let me strip off these trappings. I wish to touch you properly, without jangling like a jailor.”

Rook’s eyes followed his every move, unblinking, as he turned his attention to the task. He moved with his usual grace, deliberate and unhurried, his hands steady as he slid the first bangle free from his wrist. The metallic sound of it landing in the bowl—clink— echoed in the stillness, resonating in her chest and low in her stomach.

He worked at the clasp of the next bracelet with calm precision, maddeningly slow, every motion purposeful. The deliberate pace of it - the care, the sensuality - had her chest rising and falling rapidly, her breaths uneven.

She couldn’t look away. Those hands, so elegant, so recently mapping the curves of her body, now moved as though performing a sacred ritual. Every flick of his fingers, every twist of metal, felt deliberate, charged, and she could feel her composure coming apart with the golden clasps.

Another bracelet fell into the bowl. Clink.

Heat pooled in her abdomen, spreading across her skin as her thighs pressed together involuntarily. She was burning, the tension inside her coiling tighter with every piece he removed. Emmrich paused, glancing up at her.

“Growing impatient, are we?” he teased, the crooked grin on his lips devastating.

Rook shook her head steadily, though her voice betrayed her. “Not at all,” she managed, her breath uneven. “Please, take your time. I’m very much enjoying watching you.”

His head tilted slightly, a subtle, feline movement, his expression one of curiosity.

“Fascinating,” he murmured thoughtfully. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen this particular reaction before. You’re practically breathless, my dear.”

He was hesitant to touch her, to put his desires into practice without first understanding the intricate theory of her. Emmrich was a scholar at heart, an academic by nature, and he could never bring himself to handle something so intricate, so breathtakingly delicate, without first understanding its every nuance. She was a symphony waiting to be composed, a masterpiece to be studied in exquisite detail. He wanted to get this right. No, not just right. Perfect. 

He would require a demonstration. 

Her half-lidded gaze and the flush blooming across her skin captivated him as he methodically worked another ring from his fingers. Every one of his movements was deliberate, each moment stretched and savoured.

“I’m going to take all of these off,” he stated, his voice low and steady, “slowly. And then, my darling, I’m going to touch you.”

Clink.

As soon as his ring hit the dish she gave a soft, uncontrolled moan, her lips parting, the sound like magic newly discovered. His jaw tightened, but he held his composure, his hands still moving with practiced control.

“But first,” he continued, the silken patience of his voice wrapping around her, “I would very much like you to touch yourself.”

Clink. Another ring in the dish. 

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t waver. Her hands trembled slightly as they moved to obey. She let out a shaky exhale as her fingers dipped lower, brushing through the curls between her thighs and finally to the place where her body burned with need. Where she had touched herself before, in secret moments spent imagining him speaking to her like this, watching her like this.

“You’re doing beautifully” he murmured, his molten voice guiding her forward. 

His fingers found the last ring on his thumb, twisting it slowly before slipping it free and added it to the bowl with the others.

Clink.

Her fingers moved delicately at first, trying to pace herself, basking in the delight and eroticism of watching him unadorn his beautiful scholar's hands. She wanted him to touch her, so desperately, but she also wanted him to see her like this and know it was all for him. She wanted more than just sex, she wanted every intimacy. She wanted him to know, without doubt or question, that he was worthy of being wanted. That she wanted him now, as she always would. 

As her fingers slowly caressed herself she gasped and tilted her head back, she was hurtling far too quickly towards rapture. 

“Don’t stop looking at me, darling.” Emmrich said, as he worked another cuff off his wrist. He was finding it more and more difficult to keep steady, his fingers stumbling a little over some of the clasps, so focused was he on watching what she was doing, how she was touching herself. 

Clink.

She was slow, delicate, moving in featherlight circles. Occasionally stopping to dip the tips of her fingers inside herself, even from here he could see, he could tell how slick she was. He studied her rhythm and pressure as he continued to delight in the vision of her. 

Just a couple more bangles, and he would be free to touch her, to rest the pads of his fingers upon each dip and swerve of her body. 

"Tell me, what does it feel like when you touch yourself like this? What goes through your mind?” He wasn’t commanding, he was curious. Yes, his voice was deeper than usual and slow like thick honey - but he wasn’t trying to take charge of her, he was trying to learn from her. 

“You,” she confessed, bold now, her blush forgotten as her gaze locked with his. “It’s you. And it feels…” Her words broke off with a gasp, her hips rising to meet the rhythm of her own fingers, and his composure wavered. He fought the urge to grasp her by the ankles and pull her to him, his restraint hanging by a thread. He was slipping, and they both knew it.

“More, dearest,” he coaxed, his voice hoarse but steady. “I need more than that. Specifics, if you please.”

She exhaled sharply, the challenge in his words igniting something reckless in her. Fine, she thought. No more teasing. If he wanted the details, she’d give them to him—and let him act on every single one.

“Your hands,” she began, her gaze dropping to them. She groaned softly, watching as he stripped the cuff from his wrist, his fingers deft and deliberate. She wanted to grab those wrists, pull his hands to her body. She wanted those fingers in her mouth, on her skin, inside her.  “Those fingers… I think of them. Everywhere.”

His breath hitched, his composure cracking as her words painted vivid images in his mind. Images he had also lost himself to in his solitude. His mouth went dry. She wasn’t done. 

“Your mouth,” she continued, her voice low and sultry now, “your tongue… On me…”

“Where?”

Her answer was a moan first, then words. “On my cunt.”

She tried to continue, her lips parted as though to speak, but no words came. Instead, she let her hand move faster, her breathing turning into soft gasps, and Emmrich felt his control unravelling. His heart pounded in his chest, his hands tightening into fists as he fought the urge to abandon his methodical restraint and close the distance between them.

For all his careful planning, for all his scholarly precision, he knew one thing with absolute certainty: he had never desired anything, anyone, as much as he desired her.

“Emmrich, please.” 

That’s all he needed, he would never deny her. The last of his cuffs slid off his wrist in quick succession, and he finally made his way over to her. To kiss her. To capture her moans and sighs and taste the sweetness of them. He cradled her face, he would touch her like this first. Like he had waited a lifetime just to feel her lips upon his. 

“You are perfect.” He said gently, “You did so well, my love”

She hummed softly, a sound of pure contentment, as he lifted the hand she had used to pleasure herself. Slowly, he brought her fingers to his mouth, his gaze never leaving hers. He took them in deeply, his tongue swirling around them with deliberate reverence, humming like a starved man savouring the first taste of a feast. His teeth grazed her fingers gently before releasing them.

“May I take over from here?” he asked.

She laughed lightly at the politeness of his request, as though she had not just begged him, as though she had not been fucking him with her eyes and her words and stroking herself to almost-completion at the very idea of his hands upon her. He was a romantic, a gentleman through and through, and she adored him for it. She played along, because she knew this mattered to him - that this wasn’t just about passion, but about care.

"You may, but I would like to study you a little first" she lilted, taking his hand in hers. His hands, now bare - free of rings and cuffs - were beautiful: lithe, strong, and elegant. They were hands made for conjuring magic, for turning the pages of ancient tomes. Hands made to touch her. 

She brought his fingers to her lips, pressing soft, deliberate kisses to the places where his rings had rested. One by one, she kissed each faint indentation, reverent of every spot where the weight of his adornments had marked him. Her lips trailed to the delicate veins at his wrist, where she lingered, savouring the thrum and rush of his pulse beneath her mouth.

It was her turn to undress him. He looked achingly beautiful in his loosely buttoned shirt tucked carelessly into his slacks—so different from the polished, formal attire he typically favoured. His hair, usually immaculate, was slightly tousled, a stray strand dancing across his brow. His shirt was rumpled from her wandering hands.

Rook’s shaky fingers undid the buttons of his shirt, until he stood bare from the waist up in front of her. She drank him in, pale and lithe, like a sculpture carved from marble and brought to life. His slacks hung low on his hips, drawing her gaze to the sharp, defined V that disappeared below the fabric. The sight of him made her breath hitch, and she couldn’t resist leaning forward to press her lips to the planes of his stomach.

The sound he made - low, raw, unrestrained - was a revelation she had never heard from him before. It was nothing like the measured, gentlemanly demeanour he always carried. She felt a surge of smug satisfaction that she could unravel him, piece by piece, with just the brush of her lips.

Her kisses trailed lower, her mouth finding the soft, sensitive skin just above the waistband of his trousers. She pressed her lips there, featherlight. His thumb brushed tenderly against her cheek, his fingers combing gently through her hair,

“You do not have to…” 

She didn’t wait to hear the rest of his polite protest. She was done with his control, his formality, his carefully composed demeanour. Those were the parts of him she cherished, but tonight, she wanted them undone - wanted him undone, entirely by her hand.

Her lips curved into a triumphant smile against his skin as she eased his slacks lower, freeing him. The sharp hiss of his breath and the way his body tensed beneath her touch were all the confirmation she needed. His head fell back, his composure shattering as a single word escaped him, raw and unrestrained.

“Maker.”

The sound of it, desperate and wrecked, sent a wave of pure exhilaration through her.

She let her kisses trail from his stomach to his length, her tongue tasting him, savouring the heat and the way his breath hitched with every movement. Slowly, deliberately, she used her mouth to drive him further from that refined man she adored, coaxing him into a state of pure, unfiltered need. And as his hands tightened in her hair, his low, broken moans filling the space around them, she knew she was succeeding.

He closed his eyes, his breath hitching as her lips moved over his skin. She smiled against him, revelling in how this slow worship left him helpless, and as she took him as far back as she could and hummed with pleasure, he gasped and bucked and she knew he was close. 

But just as he teetered on the edge, he pulled her upright, his strength effortless as he brought her face to his. 

“Not yet.” 

He didn’t want to finish yet, he wished to prolong the exquisite and wholly perfect feeling of being this desperate and priapic for her. Most importantly, he wanted to witness the crest of her pleasure before his own. 

After one final kiss to the fullness of her lips, he knelt before her. An acolyte at his altar, a scholar at his tome, and when she gasped his name as he pressed his lips to her core, he decided he would never hear it said so perfectly again. 

The taste of her was an elixir, a rejuvenation, a nectar that the Gods themselves would bottle and lock away if they knew the glory of it. Sharp and deep and singular, he mimicked the movements he had watched her demonstrate, keeping the strokes of his tongue light and focused where she needed, occasionally dipping his tongue inside her, gathering more of her taste on his tongue, savouring her like an Nevarran vintage. 

Rook was shaking, breathless at his worship. At the lap and hum of him against her. Her hands reached for him greedily, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer as she whimpered his name again, her voice breaking on the syllables. Her hips lifted instinctively toward him, seeking more of the pleasure he so skillfully offered.

“Exquisite” he breathed against her, his lips brushing her skin, the timbre of his voice vibrating through her, “I could stay here forever, my love.”

The words sent a new wave of heat flooding through her, and she felt herself teetering dangerously close to the edge. Her breath hitched, her body tightening as the tension inside her coiled impossibly tight.

“It won’t take forever” she gasped, and his low chuckle against her sensitive nerves made her back bow. 

He didn’t falter. His focus was unwavering, attuned to every sound she made, every shift and quiver of her body. He listened intently, learning her as if she were a concertino, each moan, gasp, and tremor guiding him. Her cries grew louder, her breaths shorter, and the trembling in her legs turned to uncontrollable quaking. Ever the rigorous study, he allowed himself a brief, smug satisfaction in his success—but his hunger for perfection remained insatiable. There was always more to learn, more to explore, and he intended to make this particular discipline a daily, devoted pursuit.

When she finally shattered beneath him, it was with a cry of his name, her voice raw and filled with abandon. He held her through it, his hands steady on her thighs, caressing her even as she came undone. His lips and tongue coaxed out every last shiver and aftershock, prolonging her ecstasy until she collapsed back onto the bed, utterly spent—boneless, breathless, and radiant.

Only then did he pull away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he watched her, his lips shining with evidence of his devotion. He looked at her as though she were the centre of his universe. 

“You are extraordinary,” He leaned forward to press a soft, lingering kiss to her inner thigh. Then, with the same care he had shown her throughout, he moved to join her on the sofa wrapping his arms around her trembling form, pulling her against him. His hands, steady and warm, cradled her as though she might break under anything less than absolute gentleness. “And I would do this again, and again, and again, just to grant you a single moment of peace and pleasure.”

"Believe me, it was much more than just a moment." Her voice sounded unfamiliar to her own ears, softened by a serenity she hadn’t felt in as long as she could remember.

He held her tighter, burying his face against her hair. He refused to let his fears seep out and blight the perfection of this night. How many moments like this would they have? The question loomed and sneered at him, but he banished it, focusing instead on the warmth of her in his arms.

They spent the night in blissful discovery - talking, laughing, teasing, and drifting between bouts of comfortable snoozing and slow, tender lovemaking. Time stretched and sighed around them, and Emmrich’s laughter was unguarded as he teased her about her stubbornness. She would fire back, calling out his incurable weakness for romance, and inevitably their banter dissolved into playful kisses that deepened and slowed into seduction.

When exhaustion finally stole them into slumber, their bodies remained entwined, her head resting on his chest while his fingers combed idly through her hair. But sleep was fleeting; neither could hold still for long. Time and again, they would wake, their gazes and mouths meeting in the dim light. Without a word, they came together, hungry and hot, not wanting to waste any time when there was no sun or moon to guide them. 

As she lay asleep in his arms, peaceful and radiant in the bloom of dreamlight, Emmrich watched her, still not quite believing his privilege. She was the glow in the lighthouse in a land without seas, where no storms raged and no darkness fell. She was his anchor in an unmoored place.

If death had ever scared him before, it terrified him now. The thought of her being pulled into it without him, of existing in some plane where he was not, was an agony he could not endure. 

He held her a little tighter, and eventually followed her into sleep, slipping into an uncertain tomorrow where he vowed he would not lose sight of her again. 

[adoresia]

── .✦ QUIET DEVOTION

⌗ PAIRING : Megumi Fushiguro x Black!femreader

⌗ SYNOPSIS : After a long day, Megumi waits for someone important to return from a mission. As exhaustion meets quiet affection, the night unfolds with unspoken care and fleeting vulnerability.

⌗ CW : fluff!, slight hurt/comfort tones, Mentions of fatigue.

⌗ SIA HERE ! : Was bored so I wrote this Lol, I have nothing else to say 😜

The dorm room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a desk lamp casting long shadows over the walls. Megumi sat at his desk, his eyes skimming over a book, though he wasn’t really reading. His attention kept drifting to his phone, which he’d placed face-up on the table so he wouldn’t miss any notifications.

“I’ll come over after my mission, promise. It shouldn’t be too long.”

He had read that text at least twenty times now.

That was hours ago. He wasn’t worried about your safety—he knew you could handle yourself. It was more that a certain quiet anticipation had been eating at him all day. He’d never admit it outright, but he had wanted to see you the moment the morning started. He even debated texting you to come over earlier, but he settled for waiting. Megumi was used to waiting.

When the soft knock finally came at the door, Megumi was quick to his feet. He opened it to find you standing there, looking utterly exhausted, but still managing to give him a tired smile.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, stepping inside.

“You’re late,” he said bluntly, though his tone lacked any real bite.

“Yeah, well, missions don’t exactly run on a schedule,” you shot back with a yawn, dropping your bag by the door and trudging toward his sofa. “Miss me?”

He rolled his eyes. “You look half-dead.”

“And yet, I’m still here,” you quipped, settling onto the sofa and stretching your legs out. “You’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?”

“I wasn’t waiting.”

“Sure you weren’t,” you teased, smirking as you caught the faintest flicker of annoyance in his expression. “Anyway, I’m here now. So, what’s the plan?”

“The plan,” he said, closing his book and standing, “was for you to get some rest, but clearly, you’re too stubborn for that.”

You shook your head, forcing your heavy eyelids open. “No way. I didn’t come all the way here just to sleep. We’re spending time together.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open.” He shook his head and sat down at his desk again, watching as you tried to sit up straight, clearly fighting your fatigue. “I told you to take it easy if the mission ran late.”

“I’m fine.” You sat up straighter, as if to prove your point, but the movement only made you sway slightly before you caught yourself. “See? Totally fine.”

Megumi sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the desk. “You’re going to pass out in the next five minutes.”

“I am not,” you insisted, though your voice wavered with exhaustion.

He arched an eyebrow. “Right. Because falling asleep mid-sentence would really make for quality time.”

“Megumi,” you groaned, rubbing at your face to stay awake. “I’m serious. I really wanted to see you today.”

His gaze softened, but his expression remained impassive. “You’re seeing me now. That doesn’t mean you have to push yourself.”

“I said I’d come over, and I meant it,” you said, your voice quieter now, as if the last of your energy was draining away. “I just… I missed you, okay?”

His arms uncrossed, his fingers twitching slightly as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “…I missed you, too.”

You blinked at him, surprised by his honesty, and your lips curved into a sleepy smile. “See? That’s why I’m staying up. Who knows when I’ll get another confession like that out of you?”

He scoffed, walking over to the sofa and crouching down beside it. “If you think this counts as a ‘confession,’ you’re more delirious than I thought.”

“I’m not delirious,” you murmured, though your voice was muffled now as your head lolled to the side. “m’ just… happy to be here.”

“Sure you are.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, your eyes fluttering shut despite your best efforts to keep them open.

It wasn’t long before your head fell to the side, your breathing evening out. A faint snore escaped your lips, accompanied by a small trail of drool, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.

Megumi sighed quietly and stood, walking over to crouch beside the sofa. His dark eyes softened as he studied your face, taking in the way your features relaxed in sleep.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered.

Megumi stayed crouched beside the sofa, his forearms resting on his knees as his eyes roamed over your sleeping face. Your features were soft in the dim light, peaceful in a way he rarely got to see. His gaze lingered on the curve of your cheek, the way your lips parted slightly as you breathed, the faint smudge of drool that had collected at the corner of your mouth. He reached out and carefully wiped the drool from the corner of your mouth, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

His eyes followed the strands of hair that had fallen over your forehead, Then, with the same cautious touch, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering for a moment. His fingertips brushed against your temple. The movement was slow, almost reverent, as if he feared waking you.

Megumi’s expression softened further as his gaze traced the small details of your face—the faint shadows beneath your eyes from exhaustion, the way your lashes fanned out against your cheeks, the subtle twitch of your lips as you murmured something incoherent in your sleep.

He exhaled quietly, leaning in just enough to notice how your breaths fell in time with his. His dark eyes searched your face as though trying to commit every detail to memory: the slope of your nose, the delicate curve of your jawline, the way your expression remained so utterly serene, even when your day had clearly drained you.

In that moment, Megumi felt something deep and unspoken settle in his chest—a quiet kind of gratitude that you were there, safe and close, even if you had worn yourself out trying to keep your promise to him.

The door suddenly creaked open, and Gojo’s unmistakable voice filled the room. “Hey, Megumi, I saw y/n walk in here. I was just wondering—”

Megumi’s glare was instant and cutting. He raised a finger to his lips in a silent demand for quiet, his expression making it very clear he was not interested in waking you up.

Gojo’s eyes flicked to you on the sofa and back to Megumi, a knowing grin spreading across his face. “Ohhh, I see how it is. I’ll just—”

“Quiet.”

“Got it.” Gojo backed out of the room, shutting the door with exaggerated care.

Once the room was quiet again, Megumi sighed and slipped one arm beneath your knees and the other under your back, lifting you effortlessly. You stirred slightly, your head resting against his chest as he carried you to his bed.

“Megumi…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“Shh,” he said softly, laying you down and pulling the blanket over you.

He slid in beside you, careful not to jostle you too much. For a moment, he simply lay there, watching your face in the dim light. Then, leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered, so quietly he wasn’t even sure if he’d said it aloud.

You stirred again, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “I heard that.”

Megumi stiffened. “Go to sleep.”

“You said it first,” you teased, turning to face him with a sleepy smile.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice laced with exasperation but not a hint of regret. “I said it first. I love you. Now go back to sleep.”

“I love you, too,” you murmured, closing your eyes and nestling closer to him.

Megumi sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he closed his eyes. “Good. Now shut up and go back to sleep.”

The irony wasn’t lost on him. For someone who carried himself with such practiced indifference, who rarely expressed his feelings in words, he had just uttered the most vulnerable confession without hesitation. He huffed quietly, half-annoyed at himself and half-amused by how natural it felt with you. Maybe that’s what frustrated him most—you had a way of undoing all the walls he worked so hard to keep up.

— 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 @/𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 !!

( note : I got the animated divider things from @/valetoria)

[ang3lc]

simon riley x reader. college au where simon is trying to get reader to do something other than rotting away all weekend long do homework.

hi love! sorry this took so long, but i hope you like it!

simon x gn!reader, pure fluff

The knock was almost polite, but it still grated on your nerves.

“Come in,” you called, though the irritation in your tone was clear. You didn’t need to look up to know it was Simon. It was always Simon.

The door opened, and the familiar heavy tread of his boots filled your room. You could feel his presence before he said a word, tall and broad-shouldered, the smell of clean laundry and faint smoke clinging to him.

“Thought I’d find you buried in here,” Simon said, his low voice laced with dry amusement.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his dirty blond hair catching the light from the desk lamp. His hood was pulled up, shadowing his sharp jawline and the slight scruff that he never quite managed to shave clean.

“What do you want, Si?” you asked, not bothering to hide your exasperation as you kept your eyes on your notebook.

“T'stop you from wastin' away in this hole all weekend.”

“I’m not wasting away,” you shot back, shoving a stray pen cap off the desk. “I have a final on Monday, and unlike you, I’m trying to keep my grades up.”

Simon’s mouth twitched, almost like he was about to smirk, but he caught himself. He pushed off the doorframe and walked over to stand beside your desk, glancing down at the chaotic mess of books, papers, and empty coffee cups.

“Y'been at this too long,” he said simply, like it was a fact and not an opinion.

“You don’t know that,” you muttered, underlining something with a little too much force.

“Don’t I?” His voice was softer now, his Mancunian accent curling around the words like a quiet challenge.

Simon huffed, the faintest trace of amusement in the sound. “You’re predictable, you know that?”

“And you’re annoying,” you muttered, scribbling furiously in the margins of your notebook.

He reached out, tracing the corners of your notebook as you scribbled. “C'mon, love. Y'been at this all day. Take a break.”

You glared up at him, your irritation spiking at the pet name. He used it so casually, so carelessly, like it didn’t mean anything. But the way your stomach flipped every time he said it told you otherwise.

“I have a final on Monday,” you repeated through gritted teeth.

“And you’ll still have a final on Monday if y'take an hour off,” Simon countered.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. Simon Riley, with his sharp cheekbones and that ever-present hoodie, was maddeningly unreadable most of the time. But there was something about the way he was watching you now, his hazel eyes steady and piercing, that made you feel seen in a way that was both comforting and unnerving.

“I don’t have time for this,” you said, shaking your head and turning back to your notes.

“Y'don’t have time not to,” Simon countered, reaching out to snag the blue highlighter from your hand. His fingers brushed yours briefly—warm, calloused—and you snatched your hand back like you’d been burned.

“Give it back,” you borderline whined in exasperation.

“Make me,” he said, his voice flat but his lips twitching again. He stepped back and tossed the highlighter onto your bed, out of reach.

“Si —”

“Come on,” he interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “We’re goin' out.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “Out? Do you even know me?”

“Better than y'think,” he said, his gaze steady and unwavering.

Something about the way he said it made your stomach flip, but you refused to let him win.

“Simon, I’m serious—”

“So 'm I.” He grabbed your jacket from the back of your chair and held it out to you. “Y'not stayin' in here. Not tonight.”

You glared at him, but the stubborn set of his jaw told you he wasn’t going to back down. And the truth was, a part of you—small and desperate—wanted to give in.

“Fine,” you muttered, snatching the jacket from his hand. “But if I flunk the final, I’m blaming you.”

Simon’s lips quirked into a rare, fleeting smile. “Fair's fair.”

He stepped back, letting you grab your keys and shove your shoes on, and you followed him out into the cool evening air. The campus was quiet, the sky a deep indigo dotted with stars, and you found yourself relaxing just a little as you walked beside him.

He didn’t say much, as usual, but his presence was steady, grounding. Every so often, your bare knuckles would brush against his gloved fingers and you’d catch a faint whiff of his cologne, something woodsy and clean that suited him in a way you couldn’t quite explain. He had enough sense to know you were freezing. His large fingers laced with yours without hesitation, dwarfing your hand.

When he led you toward the campus diner, you stopped in your tracks.

“The diner?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Simon shrugged, his hand entertained with yours in effort to keep you warm. “Better than that hole y'were rottin' in.”

You rolled your eyes but followed him inside. The warm glow of the diner’s lights was welcoming, and the smell of fried food made your stomach growl embarrassingly loud.

Simon glanced at you, one eyebrow raised, but didn’t say anything as he slid into a booth. He knew you probably didn't touch real food at all today and were most definitely hangry. You sat across from him, shrugging out of your jacket and grabbing a menu.

“You could’ve told me you were dragging me here,” you mumbled, scanning the list of burgers and milkshakes.

“Would you 'ave come?” he asked, his voice dry.

Yes “Not the point,” you bashfully hummed , earning a quiet huff of amusement from him.

When the waitress came by, Simon ordered a burger and fries for himself and then glanced at you expectantly. You rattled off your order, and as the waitress walked away, you found Simon’s gaze fixed on you again.

“What?” you asked, his gaze soft on you as yours was on his.

He shook his head, looking down at the table. “Nothin'.”

But it wasn’t nothing. You could feel it—the weight of something unspoken hanging between you, thick and suffocating. It had always been there, this undercurrent of tension that neither of you ever acknowledged. And tonight, in the quiet intimacy of the diner, it felt closer than ever.

You wanted to ask him what he was thinking, to break the silence and force him to say something real. But instead, you said nothing, letting the tension settle like a second skin.

When the food arrived, Simon handed you the ketchup without a word, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. He might be infuriating, but he knew you better than anyone else. And when monday came, Simon wasn't surprised to hear that you passed your final with flying colors.

mlist

[daisymbin]

11. "you remembered my favorite drink?"

17. "you forgot your umbrella, so i came to walk you home."

jun picking up reader from uni or work when it’s raining and then stopping by a cafe on their way home to order her favorite drink 🥰

omg this is so cute 🥺🥺🥺 thank you for requesting this anon!!

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // jun's m.list

fluff prompt #11: "you remembered my favourite drink?" +

fluff prompt #17: "you forgot your umbrella, so I came to walk you home."

the rain came down in sheets, tapping insistently against the windows of the lecture hall as you packed up your things. your umbrella, which you’d distinctly remembered grabbing this morning, was nowhere to be found.

you groaned softly, tugging your bag higher onto your shoulder. it was late, and the idea of waiting for the rain to let up wasn’t exactly appealing.

as you stepped outside, huddling under the awning for shelter, a familiar figure caught your eye. jun stood across the courtyard, holding a large, navy-blue umbrella. his gaze found yours almost instantly, and he waved.

“you forgot your umbrella, so i came to walk you home,” he called out, his voice carrying easily over the rain.

you blinked, surprised and a little touched. “jun? what are you doing here?”

he jogged over, the umbrella shielding him perfectly. when he reached you, he grinned, tilting the umbrella just enough to share. “like i said, i came to walk you home. i figured you might’ve left your umbrella behind.”

“how did you know?” you asked, though your tone was more curious than accusatory.

he shrugged, his free hand resting lightly on your shoulder to guide you toward the sidewalk. “you’re predictable. plus, you texted me this morning about rushing out the door.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “and here i thought you didn’t pay attention.”

“i always pay attention,” he said, his tone light but his words holding a quiet sincerity.

as the two of you walked, the rain continued to fall steadily, a soothing rhythm that made the world feel smaller and cozier under the shared umbrella. jun kept the umbrella tilted slightly more toward you, even though it left his shoulder damp.

“you’re going to get soaked,” you said, glancing at him.

“i’ll survive,” he replied with a grin. “besides, i’d rather you stay dry. your hair takes forever to fix after it gets wet.”

you elbowed him playfully, but your cheeks warmed at the thoughtfulness behind his teasing.

as you turned onto a quieter street, the warm glow of a small café caught your attention. jun noticed it, too, and tugged you gently toward the entrance.

“let’s stop here for a bit,” he said. “you look like you could use something warm.”

“jun, you don't have to—”

“i want to,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

inside, the air was warm and fragrant, filled with the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods. jun nudged you toward a table by the window before heading to the counter to place an order.

when he returned, he set a steaming cup in front of you, the exact drink you always ordered from this café.

you blinked, looking from the cup to him. “you remembered my favorite drink?”

“of course,” he said, sliding into the seat across from you. “you get the same thing every time. it wasn’t hard to remember.”

“still,” you said softly, your hands wrapping around the cup for warmth. “it’s sweet of you.”

he smiled, resting his chin in his hand as he watched you take a sip. “you say that like it’s surprising. i’m always sweet.”

you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips tugged upward. “debatable.”

“i walked all the way here in the rain to make sure you didn’t get soaked, and i bought you your favorite drink. if that’s not sweet, i don’t know what is.”

“fine,” you conceded, a soft laugh escaping you. “you’re sweet. happy?”

“very,” he said, his grin widening.

the two of you sat there for a while, the rain creating a gentle soundtrack to your conversation. jun’s presence was steady and reassuring, a constant in your life that you realized you’d come to rely on more than you cared to admit.

as you finished your drink and prepared to leave, jun stood first, holding the umbrella ready for you.

“come on,” he said, offering his hand to help you up.

you took it, letting him guide you back outside. the rain had lessened slightly, but he still held the umbrella firmly above you, keeping you sheltered as you walked the rest of the way home.

“thanks, jun,” you said after a moment, your voice quiet but earnest.

his lips curved into a small, genuine smile. “you don’t have to thank me. i’ll always look out for you. you’re… important to me.”

your heart stuttered at his words, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to say. but as you walked beside him, sharing the umbrella and the quiet comfort of his presence, you realized you didn’t need to say anything.

the rain had eased into a drizzle by the time you and jun reached your apartment, soft droplets creating patterns against the glow of the streetlights. jun still held the umbrella over you, despite the fact that his shoulder was completely soaked.

“jun, you’re dripping water everywhere,” you teased as he closed the umbrella and leaned it against the wall just inside the door.

“worth it,” he said easily, shaking out his damp hair like a golden retriever. “better me than you.”

you rolled your eyes, but your chest warmed at his nonchalant response. “you could’ve just told me to take care of myself instead of coming all the way to pick me up, you know.”

jun tilted his head, giving you a mock-serious look as he pulled off his wet jacket. “and miss the chance to be your knight in shining armor? no way.”

“knight in soggy armor, more like,” you shot back, heading toward the kitchen to grab some towels.

“but still, a knight,” he called after you, laughing softly.

when you returned with towels, jun was already sprawled on the couch, looking perfectly at ease despite his rain-drenched clothes.

“here,” you said, tossing one at him. “you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t dry off.”

“i knew you cared,” he said smugly, catching the towel with ease.

you smirked, plopping down on the couch next to him. “barely. i just don’t want to hear you whining about being sick.”

jun gave you an exaggerated gasp, clutching his chest like you’d wounded him. “you’re so mean to me.”

“you like it,” you quipped without thinking.

the words hung in the air for a moment, and you immediately felt your cheeks heat up.

jun’s lips quirked into a sly grin as he leaned closer, towel forgotten in his lap. “oh? do i?”

“don’t push your luck,” you muttered, focusing intently on wringing out the towel in your hands.

but jun didn’t let it drop. he leaned back, running the towel through his damp hair as he spoke, his voice quieter now. “you know, you say that, but you didn’t seem to mind when i showed up tonight. almost like… you were... expecting me to come."

you frowned slightly, glancing at him. “i didn’t expect you. i just… it was nice that you did.”

“so you admit it,” he said, the teasing lilt returning to his tone. “you liked having me there.”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “why do you have to make everything into a game?”

jun’s laughter softened, and when you peeked through your fingers, he was watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“it’s not a game,” he said quietly. “not with you.”

your hands fell slowly, the weight of his words settling between you. “jun…”

“i’m serious,” he continued, his gaze steady. “if it were anyone else, i wouldn’t have gone out in the rain. wouldn’t have remembered their favorite drink, wouldn’t have cared so much about keeping them dry. but with you…”

his voice trailed off, and he ran a hand through his still-damp hair, looking almost shy for the first time. “with you, it’s different.”

your heart raced as you processed his words, your mind spinning with what they could mean.

he met your gaze, his usual playful confidence replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. “i’m saying that i’d walk through a hundred storms for you. no teasing, no games. just… because it’s you.”

you stared at him, the sincerity in his voice making your chest ache in the best way. “you really mean that?”

“have i ever lied to you?” he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips. “besides, if i’m going to be soaking wet for someone, it better be worth it.”

you laughed, the sound breaking the tension in the room. “so you’re saying i’m worth it?”

“more than worth it,” he said, his grin widening.

the warmth in his voice made your heart swell, and you reached out to lightly shove his shoulder. his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something deeper.

you shook your head, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “you know, if you wanted to tell me you like me, you could’ve just said it.”

jun’s grin softened into something gentler as he leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “i thought i already did.”

your breath caught, the closeness of him making your pulse race. but instead of pulling away, you smiled, your voice equally soft. “yeah, i guess you did.”

“so… is this the part where you tell me how you feel?” he asked, his tone light but his expression hopeful.

you bit your lip, pretending to think it over. “hmm, i don’t know. maybe i should make you wait a little longer, just to keep things interesting.”

jun groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch. “you’re going to be the death of me, i swear.”

you laughed, leaning into his side as you finally let the words spill out. “i like you, too, you big idiot.”

his head snapped up, a wide grin breaking across his face. “you do?”

“i do,” you said, rolling your eyes at his excitement. “but if you tell anyone i said that, i’ll deny it.”

“your secret’s safe with me,” he promised, pulling you closer until your head rested against his shoulder.

outside, the rain continued to fall, but inside, everything felt warm and safe and just right. & you realised, jun’s actions spoke louder than words ever could.

[trashpremiium]

girl help i think the panic is setting in

[fingertipsmp3]

I did have a productive day tbh. I did all my work shit, I made two appointments and I went for a run for the first time in 5 days :)

[exopelagic]

fuck R <3

[the-somwthing]

oh god I reached tag limit. Dear god. Should I make my own post or are my takes in the tags god awful and I should’ve kept them to myself 😭

(also I mistakenly said clethubs instead of cledubs cuz it flows better, ignore me Etho has nothing to do with any of this)

ok now that im watching scotts pov i can finally make the poll i want

[katszumi]

“have you seen the abs on that man?” hagakure sat across of you. “sexy on a stick, i swear!” she giggles. she was going on and on about the guy that starred in the superman movie you girls put on last night. henry cavill was his name.

mina agrees with her statement with a nod. “he’s the hottest white man i’ve ever seen before.”

“sure, he was hot, but are we forgetting the misogynist comments he’s made? sexy is one thing, but being controversial is a whole ‘nother thing.” uraraka inserted her input.

“oh, please. i’d cook and clean for him anyday he asks.” mina retorted. both uraraka and yaoyorozu shake their head in shame.

“speaking of controversial.” uraraka murmurs under her breath, you peer over your shoulder, wondering the intent of her statement.

you notice bakugou making his way over to your desk, his eyes planted on you and you only. you shift uncomfortably. why the hell would he be coming to you? did you do something?

once he makes his way to your desk, you look up at him with a half smile.

“hey, bakugou. what’s up?”

his eyes analyze the other girls before looking back down on you.

“my pencil?”

you flutter your lashes at him. “pencil..?” you repeated in a trance of confusion.

he groans. “the fuckin’ pencil i gave you last week. i need it back.”

now it all clicks. you nod, laughing nervously because of your stupidity. you reach in your backpack and grab the black mechanical pencil that you forgot to lend back to bakugou.

your arm extends to the male in front of you, waiting for him to snatch it back.

“sorry.”

he gently grasped onto the pencil, his hand brushing against your fingers for a small moment.

“it’s whatever. just rather not be the one to find you after i lent you something.” he shoved the pencil in his pants pockets, leaving his hands in there. “that’s one of the last pencils i have.”

you shoot your eyebrows up in defense, quickly lowering them after. your eyes falling down to your desk for comfort.

“well, hope you take care of that one.” it was a half-joke. a lame one, might you add. you were just unsure on what to say. especially since it seemed like bakugou was lingering around your desk. as if he didn’t want to return to his seat just yet.

“so, what’d you score on your test?”

“ah…it wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t horrible.”

“well?” was he really desperate to know that bad? you knew bakugou was smart, so he probably only wanted to know so it could boost his ego.

you rubbed your arm out of shame. “a seventy-nine.” you stared at his face to recognize any humility or laughter, but there was none.

he shrugged. “should’ve asked for my help if you needed it.”

right. you almost forgot that bakugou offered to help you study and go over notes with him for the next test. it was such an out-of-bakugou thing to do that you nearly didn’t take him serious.

you nodded slowly, processing his information.

“i was planning on making it up, so maybe for that.”

“fine.” his short one-worded response was dull. but what else did you really expect? “next time, don’t steal my pencil.” was his last comment before leaving your presence.

you sat in your thoughts, reeling the conversation back in your mind. what the hell just happened? it was the most simple yet confusing conversation you’ve ever had. was bakugou joking with you or was he seriously irritated with the pencil situation?

regardless, you made a mental note that bakugou was very protective over his mechanical pencils.

once bakugou returned to his seat, he unzipped his backpack, secretly opening his pencil box. within the box were a collection of pencils. there were so many pencils that he could give one to all of class 1a and 1b and still have few left.

aside sat denki who was clearly peeking inside of bakugou’s bag.

“damn, bakubro. you saving up pencils for a potential pencil outage or something?” it’s denki. of course, he never used his inside voice.

“i will literally blow you out this fuckin’ window and across the lot.” bakugou turns his head immediately, a faint pink blush spreading across the apples of his cheek.

bakugou just didn’t want you to know that the pencil was obviously an excuse to talk to you.

pt 2 of the study sesh

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Cherry Red.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader x Yandere!Geto (JJK).

Written in conjunction with this ask from @eevwrites.

Word Count: 1.9k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Implied Stalking, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Overstimulation, Biting/Marking, and Slight Dehumanization.

Really, your only mistake had been choosing the wrong savoir after Satoru had slipped something into your drink.

Satoru was obviously, visibly, undeniably a creep. That much was obvious from the second he approached you, neon pink cocktail in-hand and that degenerate grin plastered across his lips. He was sketchy, but he was also rich, and fun, and willing to dance with you hours after the rest of your friends had called it a night. Suguru wasn’t a creep – or, he didn’t look like one, at least. When your vision started to darken, when it became harder than it should’ve been to put one foot in front of the other, it was his chest you stumbled into, using what was left of your consciousness to beg an imposing, aloof stranger to get the bartender’s attention and help you. It was what anyone else would’ve done. It was what you would’ve done, if the roles had been reversed.

It wasn’t until you felt his arm wrap around your waist, until you heard him call so lovingly to Satoru, that you realized how badly you’d fucked up.

Still, stumbling halfway across the club and throwing yourself at a total stranger must've attracted some attention. As Suguru gathered you in his arms, the bartender rounded towards you, eyeing your limp form and Suguru's slight smile warily. “Someone had little too much to drink,” he explained, nonchalantly. “It’s fine. Her boyfriend and I are going to take her home and make sure she gets tuck her in.”

‘Your boyfriend’ being Satoru, apparently, judging by the way he clung to Suguru’s side as you were carried out of the club entirely and piled into the backseat of an inconspicuous black car. Suguru drove and Satoru hovered over you – gnawing hickeys and bruises into your throat until you were too far gone to care.

Whatever they’d dosed you with, it was strong. You were strung out for most of the ride, only vaguely aware of passing scenery, Satoru’s keening whines, and Suguru’s gentle reminders to ‘wait, ‘toru’. By the time you felt your body being lifted, you were beyond the point of deliberate movement – your mind hyperactive, eager to latch onto every little sensation and spiraling thought, but unable to do much more than remind you to breath as you were hauled through a shrine courtyard and into a small, dimly lit backroom; the priest’s personal barracks, if you had to guess. Satoru babbled while Suguru lowered you onto a large, plush bed, and despite your best efforts, you caught most of it. “—and that’s when I knew it had to be you.” Suguru spared you an apologetic smile, his nimble hands moving over your body as he carefully removed your dress, then your shoes, then your panties, stripping you bare with all the care and all the tenderness of an avid collector undressing his favorite doll. “I mean, it took a few months, but I wanted it to be romantic, y’know? Suguru doesn’t get it. He thought I’d be happy with just anyone.”

“It took me a while to come around the idea. I might’ve gotten a little jealous.” You could only wish he would’ve stayed that away. “Come here, I need to show you what you’re doing.”

Suguru dragged you into his lap, keeping your upper body propped against his chest while spreading your legs apart in front of him. Satoru took his position eagerly between then, his eyes fixed on your cunt. “This,” he started, using two thick fingers to spread the folds of your labia apart, “is what you’re gonna fall in love with. Make sure you’re always paying attention to her clit – aw, look, it’s already poking out.”

It was humiliatingly clinical – how he touched you while explaining your anatomy in-detail, using the pad of his thumb to show Satoru how to play with your clit, dipping two fingers into your entrance while extrapolating on the importance of proper preparation, gathering your arousal up to make sure Satoru knew what it would look like when he was doing a good job. “Remember to be gentle. She’s going to be a lot more delicate than me,” he said, while curling two fingers inside of you, filling the bedroom with a rhythmic, humiliatingly wet sound. Your couldn't seem to open your mouth, and yet, little whimpers of discomfort and mewls of pleasure escaped your parted lips without resistance, each new noise drawing Satoru that much closer. “You’ll just be using your mouth, for now. We can talk about hands once you’ve shown some restraint.”

And yet, Satoru’s hands still found their way to your thighs, kneading mindlessly while Suguru split you open on his fingers. You tried to shake your head, to squirm against him, to tell him to stop, but the closest you got to anything coherent was a pitchy, keening sound not totally dissimilar to the whines Satoru would let out every now and then as he ground half-consciously into the mattress. You tried not to feel anything, either, but Suguru’s hands were so big, and his chest was so warm against your back, and with Satoru all-but drooling over your pussy, it would’ve been impossible not to come undone the second his palm ground against your clit and he spread his fingers apart inside of you, nursing you through your orgasm while making sure you were on fully-display. “See how she’s clenching down? That means she’s trying to milk your cock – you’ll get what I mean, once your inside of her.”

If only for a moment, your panic overshadowed your paralysis. Thrashing to either side, you did your best to fight against Suguru’s ironclad hold and finally spit something out, even if your voice was still barely stronger than a whimper. “N-No, don’t, you can’t—”

It was Satoru who cut you off, this time, albeit without breaking his nonverbal streak. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise, teeth clashing against yours as he shoved his tongue down your throat in less of a kiss and more of a prolonged attempt to choke you to death. It hurt, and you tasted blood, and if you hadn’t known better, than you would’ve thought this was his first—

Oh, god.

As if this couldn’t have gotten any worse.

He didn’t stay focused on your mouth for long. His attention drifted downward – first to your throat, then your collarbone, then your chest, latching onto one of your nipples and sucking harshly. You hadn’t realized how sensitive you were, not until his teeth dug into the plush of your breast and you let out a fractured sob, tears blurring your vision. Suguru’s response was instantaneous. In a fraction of a second, his slick-stained fingers were tangled in Satoru’s hair, prying him off of you entirely. “Gentle,” he repeated, his tone strict, authoritative. “Before I decide you need to be muzzled.”

For what it was worth, Satoru seemed apologetic. After Suguru loosened his hold, he nuzzled into your chest, lapping over his past love bites with the flat of his tongue. “’m sorry, just got excited.” And then, smiling up at you, “You didn’t mind, right? I mean, she definitely doesn’t.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, not until his head dropped to your cunt and he buried his face between your thighs, his attention suddenly solely dedicated to your pussy.

There was no attempt made to use his hands. Despite Suguru’s instructions, he ate you out like a starving animal – his tongue fucking into your cunt as the bridge of his nose ground mindlessly against your clit. Suguru kept his hand in Satoru’s hair, petting gingerly over his scalp as he watched Satoru drool and lap at your cunt. “Use your entire tongue, and don't inhale. She’s not going to be impressed if you manage to drown yourself in pussy.” Suguru tugged lightly, and Satoru let out an unabashed moan, the reverberations going straight to your core. “Don't get distracted, either. Don’t you want to know what she tastes like cumming on your tongue?”

Another moan, another rough buck of Satoru’s hips into the now disheveled sheets. He was terrible, and messy, and loud, and it was humiliating how quickly you lost control of yourself – going stiff against Suguru as Satoru all-but tore your second climax out of you. Suguru grinned against your throat, almost purring with satisfaction. “Good boy. So dedicated, so sweet.” He let go of Satoru’s hair – cupping your face, instead. It was only as his thumb traced over your cheek that you realized you were crying in-earnest, now. “She’s tearing up, ‘toru. That means she wants you to keep going.”

A mix of your arousal and his saliva stained the inside of your thighs, dampening the sheets underneath you, but he didn’t pull away – too caught up in your taste or Suguru’s praise to stop. It might’ve been the overstimulation, or the drugs, or some impossible, nebulous factor you couldn’t so much as begin to guess as, but time seemed to blur together, reality buckling under its own weight as Satoru wrung another orgasm out of you, then another, then another, as Suguru continued to shower him with praise and affection and promises that you liked him, that you wanted this, that you were only crying and thrashing and trying to snap your thighs shut because you felt so good. At some point, you lost the will to keep your eyes open, and minutes later, the harsher edges of your consciousness began to soften. For once, you couldn't be mad at your own body's instinctual submission.

You knew you were going to black out, but you weren't scared. By the time your vision flickered out and everything went black, the only thing you could think to be was grateful that you’d be fortunate enough to miss the main event.

~

You woke up what felt like days later, still lying on the bed you’d blacked out in. Their paralytics had worn off, but trying to make a run for it was out of the question. Every part of your body ached – from your hickey-painted chest to your aching hips to your poor, abused pussy – and even if you’d been able to move, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Familiar bodies caged you in on either side, Suguru’s chest still pressing into your back while Satoru clung to your chest, his arms wrapped around your midriff and his nails embedded in your sides. As if you hadn't already been thoroughly marked.

Suguru stirred first, predictably. It wasn’t hard to tell who was in charge between the two of them. “Our little sleeping beauty,” he muttered into your hair, kissing the top of your head as he sat up and shook Satoru away. “We were starting to get worried – must’ve pushed you too hard last night. You almost missed the most important part.”

Something caught in your throat. “…almost?”

“Yes, princess, almost.” With a groan, Satoru sat up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Immediately, his gaze fell to you, and just as quickly, he was on top of you – pinning you to the mattress, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “You should be thankful that Satoru had the patience to wait. I wouldn’t have been so nice.”

You felt Satoru’s hands paw at your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he aligned his stiff, leaking cock with your entrance. He moved enthusiastically, but mechanically, like a trained dog. Like he was following instructions. Weakly, you tried to push at his chest, to get him away from you, but you gave up quickly.

You’d been wrong to be grateful. It would’ve been better to get this over with last night.

At least, then, you might’ve been out of it enough to miss the twisted, blissful, lovesick grin painted across Satoru’s lips as he buried himself inside of you.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - SEVEN

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, abortion, alcohol, drug consumption.

MASTERLIST

You never spent much time on The Cut, unless you were being dragged by duty, mostly charity events for the local populations, fundraisers for their schools usually.

You always showed up in something tasteful but subtly expensive—pearls, understated Louboutin heels, and a blazer that whispered wealth without screaming it. 

Your mother taught you that.

Now, you sat in Poguelandia, doing god knows what.

The name alone sounded like some bad beach-themed party game. But you kept the snark to yourself—mostly. Sarah swore to you this was her new "thing," her big redemption arc, and who were you to judge? It wasn’t where you pictured spending any afternoon, yet there you were.

Pregnant. On The Cut. Drinking—well, holding—a very flat ginger ale out of a plastic cup.

You smoothed your dress for the hundredth time, light linen in a neutral tone that looked effortless but cost more than most people’s rent, while pretending not to notice Pope and Cleo staring like you were a rare bird that had wandered into the wrong habitat. 

Were they always this... intense? Did people on this side of the island not know how to look away when someone made eye contact? Your mother’s voice echoed in your head. They’re not staring at you, dear; they’re staring at themselves in relation to you. 

Whatever that meant. 

To their credit, they weren’t mean about it. Just... curious, as if you’d wandered in from a wildlife documentary called Kooks in the Wild.

You moved your weight around in your seat, hyper-aware of every grain of sand sticking to your hérmes sandals. Every time you shifted, you felt the grains grinding between the straps and your skin.

Should’ve worn the espadrilles, you thought ruefully, but even then, this wasn’t the world’s most glamorous venue. Sarah had begged you to stop by, though, and you owed her. It was also good for you to leave the house instead of being cupped up inside all alone.

“Okay, seriously, what’s with the staring? Do I have something on my face? Is my makeup smudged? Be honest.”

Cleo snorted. “No, you’re fine, princess. We’re just surprised to see you.”

You were still holding your sad little plastic cup. “Just thought I’d participate in—whatever this is.” You gestured vaguely at the mismatched chairs and string lights that looked like they’d been stolen from someone’s backyard wedding. “Community service?”

It was supposed to come off as witty. You weren’t sure it did.

Pope choked on his drink—sweet tea? soda?—and Cleo chuckled outright. “You’re funny,” she said, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if she meant it.

“Thanks?” It came out like a question, and you wanted to die just a little bit inside.

Pope grinned, leaning forward with a chip in his hand. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who hangs out in The Cut, that’s all.”

You blinked, feigning shock. “You don’t think I spend my weekends in—what is this, a glorified surf shack? I’m crushed.”

Cleo laughed again, which—fine—made you feel a little better.

“Nah, it’s just... you’re different up close. Not like, scary kook different. Just human. Y’know?”

“Great. That’s exactly what I was going for today.”

Pope gestured to the bar. “You want a snack? Chips? Cookies? We have...three options.”

You straightened, eyes narrowing like a hawk zeroing in on prey.

Food. Your stomach growled loudly, as if it had been cued by a stage director. “What kind of cookies?”

He blinked, not expecting you to care. “Uh... chocolate chip? Maybe oatmeal raisin?”

“And the chips?” You pressed, leaning forward now.

“Salt and vinegar,” Cleo piped up, eyeing you curiously. “Barbecue too, I think. Why?”

“Okay, shit, great.” You clapped your hands together decisively. “I’ll have all of it. All the chips, both kinds of cookies. Do you have anything else? Pretzels? Popcorn? Random condiments? I’m not picky.”

Cleo stared at you, her mouth slightly open. “Everything?”

“Yes, everything. Is that a problem?”

She blinked, her eyes darting to Pope like he had an explanation. He shrugged helplessly.

“Woman” she muttered under her breath. “Did you not eat for a week, or...?”

The salt and vinegar chips were divine, borderline transcendent, as you shoved another handful into your mouth. The truth was, you weren’t just hungry—you were still terrified. Every bite, every easy conversation with other people that weren’t Sarah, was a game of jenga to you. One wrong move, one offhand comment, and your secret could be out in the open.

Six more days until this would all be... over. Until the secret growing inside you—the one you’d barely admitted to yourself most mornings—would be gone.

The past three days had been the best you’d felt in ages, cravings and all, thanks to Sarah. She’d slept over, stayed up late talking with you, making you laugh, distracting you from the endless pit what-ifs and why-mes.

It was the longest you’d gone without crying in three months. The longest you’d lived without feeling like you could suffocate at any given moment. With her help, it had been easier to forget—to pretend that things were still okay.

But Sarah wasn’t there, she’d left earlier with John B, something about helping him with a tour.

“You good, princess?” Cleo’s voice cut through your thoughts.

You blinked at her, realizing you’d been crushing the chip bag in your hands like a stress ball. “What? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re about to fight that bag of chips,” Pope said, grinning.

You forced a laugh, leaning back and tossing the bag onto the table. “No fighting. Just... intense snacking."

You reached for the chocolate chip cookies he had offered earlier, focusing on the sweetness, the comfort of food that tasted good for once. Sweet, crumbly, safe. If only the rest of you life felt like that.

Pope and Cleo knew something was up, they all did, probably.

Sarah had been glued to your side, and it wasn’t exactly subtle.

Her sudden move to “stay over” at your place had obviously raised eyebrows, especially since you two hadn’t had a proper conversation in months before all this. And there was the beach clean-up, Kie and JJ had been there when you felt ill, and while you’d been too disoriented to keep up with the cover story once Rafe drove you away, Sarah had stepped in later to handle it.

Heat exhaustion. Overworked. Totally fine.

Still, to your relief, neither Pope nor Cleo seemed inclined to pry, perhaps it was pity, or maybe they were just decent enough to let you keep the little shred of privacy you had left. Either way, you were grateful.

“So,” Pope said, leaning back on his elbows and flashing you an easy grin, “How are you finding our place? I mean, other than our fine selection of snacks.”

You swallowed a bite of cookie, forcing a smile. “It’s...charming. Rustic. A real je ne sais quoi vibe.” You waved your hand vaguely, trying to mimic the way your mother used to describe terrible restaurants we’d never go back to.

Cleo snorted. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“It’s cute,” You offered, looking around, “I can tell you guys put your heart into it.”

Pope smirked, lifting a brow. "That's nice of you to say."

You gave a small shrug, feigning nonchalance, but you meant it.

For all the mismatched chairs and questionable decoration, there was something undeniably warm about the place. You weren't used to that—spaces filled with love instead of decorators and florists, it wasn’t bad. Just different.

“I mean it,” you said, brushing crumbs from your lap. “It’s very authentic. ‘Pogue Chic’ or something.”

Cleo laughed, loud and genuine, her grin lighting up her face. “Pogue Chic?"

Pope chimed in, “Hey, don’t knock it. We’re trendsetters. Ahead of its time.”

You smiled, but your mind was already falling back to the sand clinging to your dress and the ginger ale that tasted like disappointment. You’d never say it out loud, but you admired them, that ability to make joy out of scraps. It was something you didn’t quite know how to do. Not yet, anyway.

Cleo leaned forward, her elbows resting on the makeshift table. “So, are we going to see you around more? Or is this just a one-time royal visit?”

You hesitated, twirling the rim of your cup between your fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe. If Sarah keeps dragging me here, I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

You didn't know if it was the way he said it, the tone he used, or just your hormones fucking you up, but suddenly there were tears in your eye sockets. You blinked rapidly, tilting your head back slightly and praying that the tears stayed put.

These kids, all of them, sitting here like they hadn’t spent their lives scraping by, like they hadn’t been hurt or abandoned or let down a hundred times over by people they loved and trusted. Yet somehow, they were still full of hope, full of life.

You envied that.

You wished you could bottle it, whatever it was that kept them laughing and fighting and welcoming someone like you—a result of privilege and mistakes and heartbreak—into their home. It was humbling in a way that made your chest hurt.

“Does that mean I can choose to order better snacks next time? Maybe some sparkling water? Flat ginger ale is a crime against humanity.”

Cleo snorted, still not fooled by your deflection, but she let it slide.

“Good luck with that, princess. Our snack budget’s about three bucks and whatever we can steal from Kie’s pantry.”

Pope chuckled, tossing a chip in his mouth. “And you’re welcome to contribute if you’re so concerned about the menu.”

It surprised you, how easy it was to talk to them.

On paper, you had nothing in common. They were younger, grew up in a completely different world, and you were used to the polished conversations of country club luncheons and charity galas. 

Here, things were different.

They didn’t seem to care if you stumbled over your words, if your jokes were awkward or if you occasionally sounded like a walking trust fund catalog. They didn’t care about your last name, your family’s money, or any other things that had weighed you down for years.

That was disarming.

You’d spent your entire life around people who mirrored your upbringing—kids who summered in the Hamptons or Barbados, adults who measured their worth in stock portfolios and vacation homes. Now, you were here, in this cobbled-together haven with salt-stained cushions, sitting with people who’d grown up struggling for things you took for granted.

You thought it would feel more awkward or forced, but it didn’t.

It was easy.

Pope sat on the counter, gesturing with a half-eaten chip. “Serious question. How do you even survive on Figure Eight? Do they hand you iced lattes and designer handbags when you’re born, or do you have to work your way up to that?”

You raised a brow, smirking. “Oh, absolutely. The moment you’re born, they issue you a monogrammed diaper bag and a gold-plated pacifier. It’s very exclusive.”

Cleo nearly choked on her drink. “See, this is why we can’t take you seriously.”

Your phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with your cousins name, interrupting the fun. You sighed, rolling your eyes before picking it up. “Yes, Top?”

Topper’s slightly whiny tone spilled into your ear. “Can you believe Mom’s threatening to rent out the beach house for the summer? Actual strangers, staying there. What’s next? Turning it into a hostel?”

“Tragic,” you deadpanned, resting your chin in your hand. “Truly, a devastating blow for humanity.”

Pope fake-coughed, mumbling “white rich privilege problems,” while Cleo mouthed, “Hostel!” and shook her head, laughing silently.

“I know. Anyway, I’m coming over later.”

“Where’s your invitation?”

You heard him scoffing, “I’m family, I don’t need one.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Top, you can’t just announce you’re coming over. I might have plans.”

“Yeah, and I’m your family, so those plans now include me,” Topper said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. “Besides, I’ll bring food.”

Across from you, Pope was already gagging dramatically, holding his stomach as if the mere sound of Topper’s voice made him physically ill. 

“I don’t know if—”

“See you at noon,” he interrupted. “Later!”

The call ended before you could even argue, and you set your phone down with a resigned sigh. 

“Looks like I’m hosting a one-man Topper pity party,” you said, crossing your arms and slumping back in your chair.

Pope clutched his chest. “Will you survive?”

You only left once the sun dipped lower into the horizon, you gathered your things promising Sarah you’d drive safely and talk to her tomorrow.

Cleo, Pope and John B were mid-argument about the best way to fix something in the shack. You felt lighter than you had in weeks.

With a few more quips exchanged and goodbyes said, you walked back to your car. That night, the ache in your chest wasn’t completly unbearable. You weren’t okay, but you weren’t drowning, either.

You’d been terrified of this afternoon all day, worried you’d stick out like a sore thumb or say the wrong thing.

But the Pogues hadn’t cared about your awkwardness, your polished self, or even the giant invisible cloud you carried everywhere these days. They let you just be.

The drive home was quiet, but this time you even hummed along to a song on the radio, which was strange because you couldn’t remember the last time you cared about music or even turning on that thing. When you pulled into the driveway and stepped into your house, it didn’t feel as cold and empty as it did last week.

You set your bag down on the entryway table and kick off your sandals, the floors cool beneath your feet. Heading to the kitchen, you decided to see if there was anything decent for tonight’s impromptu early dinner with Topper. The fridge greeted you with a sad bag of lettuce, half a bottle of sparkling water, and a single container of leftover pasta you weren’t sure was still edible.

“Great,” you muttered, closing the door and moving to the pantry.

The situation there wasn’t much better. Sarah’s latest health-kick contributions—a bag of chia seeds and some organic trail mix—laughed at you from the top shelf. You frowned, pushing them aside to reveal a dusty box of crackers and a jar of Nutella.

“Guess we’re going shopping tomorrow,” you murmured, grabbing the crackers and Nutella to snack on now.

You placed them on the counter and glanced around. The sink held a few dishes from earlier —a couple of coffee mugs, a bowl, a plate.

You sighed, rolling up your sleeves, might as well get this out of the way.

Normally, you’d have had someone else to take care of this—stocking the pantry, cleaning the dishes, even deciding on the menu for your lunches. But lately, you’d been scaling back. You hadn’t let anyone go, of course. You could never do that; the staff had been with your family for years, and many of them felt more like extended family than employees. Still, you’d quietly rearranged their schedules, giving them more time off.

They didn’t question it—probably thought it was some new phase, another eccentricity of a bored, privileged young woman.

Truth was, you liked doing these things.

Focusing on something small, tangible, gave your brain a break from drilling itself into a million dark corners. Folding laundry, washing dishes, even the routine of chopping vegetables—it kept your hands busy and your thoughts manageable enough. It wasn’t that you’d suddenly become a domestic goddess or anything. Most of the time, you’d forget to pick up groceries or burn whatever you tried to cook.

It wasn’t about being good at it. It was about doing something.

You looked around the kitchen, noting the little imperfections you wouldn’t have noticed before. A small water stain on the counter from where your glass had sat too long, the scuff marks on the cabinets where your chair scraped when you leaned back. They weren’t problems to be fixed—they were just signs of life.

And right now at that very moment, life felt…okay.

The house didn’t seem as cold or empty when you were doing things for yourself, even if it was mundane work. You finish up wiping down the counters, glance at the time—definitely cutting it close—and head toward the dining room to tidy up a bit.

Topper was not the type to notice if the place is spotless, but you always liked things to look... presentable, yourself included.

You heard the doorbell ring in the distance, he was early as usual, probably checking his watch just to make sure he wasn't a second late.

"Of course he’s early," you muttered to yourself, a little smirk pulling at your lips.

You walked towards the front door, ready to greet him, but when you opened it, your eyes immediately locked onto the large takeout bag in his hand. It smelled... amazing.

Topper grinned at you, an exaggerated flourish as he held up the bag.

“Guess what I brought?”

“You brought... Korean chicken wings? Really?”

“Hell yeah, I did!” He stepped inside, completely ignoring any formalities and heading straight toward the kitchen, “They just opened.”

He placed the bag on the counter with the confidence of a man who knew he’s just won “Best Dinner Host” without even trying. You peeked inside, the crispy wings drenched in a glossy, sweet-spicy sauce that looked downright delicious.

Topper laughed and took a seat, pulling out the wings, not even bothering with plates. “You’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes but sat next to him, picking up a wing, the heat of it still making your fingers tingle. The crispy exterior cracked open with a satisfying crunch as you bit into it. It was everything you'd hoped for—tangy, spicy, perfectly cooked. You nearly moaned in pleasure, not even caring that your cousin was watching you with that cocky grin on his face.

“You look like you’ve seen the light,” He teased, leaning back in his chair as he grabbed a wing of his own.

“I mean,” you said, savoring another bite, “this might make up for you barging in uninvited.”

“Barging?” He clutched his chest dramatically, mock offense radiating from every inch of him. “I'm saving you from a night of sad dinners, and this is the thanks I get?”

You gave him a pointed look, but the corner of your mouth tugged upward despite yourself.

“Fine. Thank you, Topper. You’re the hero of the day. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” he said, grinning as he reached for another wing. “What’s new? Still slumming it with my ex and the Pogues?”

“First of all,” you said, wiping your fingers on a napkin, “slumming it implies I’m suffering, which I’m not. And second, Sarah’s not a pogue. She’s pogue-adjacent.”

“Pogue-adjacent?” He snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time over there.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” you shot back. “You basically live at Kildare Brewing these days. That’s like, one pogue away from full assimilation.”

He opened his mouth to argue but then stopped, realizing you had a point. “Okay, fair. But only because they have good beer."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up, but curiosity got the better of you. You hadn’t heard about her in a while, and you knew by experience, that was never a good thing.

“So... Ruthie,” you started, watching him over the rim of your glass as you took a sip.

Topper paused mid-chew, looking up at you like he wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation. “What about her?”

“I mean, you two are still together, aren’t you?”

He wiped his hands on a napkin. “We’re… not talking right now.”

You tried not to look pleased, but a rush of vindication bloomed in your chest. You'd grown to hate her, plain and simple. Her recent proximity to your cousin had always baffled you. He wasn’t perfect, but surely, he could do better. 

“I’m surprised.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, reaching for another wing. But then he stopped, like whatever he was thinking was messing with his head.

“What happened?” You asked, trying to sound more curious, concerned, than nosy.

You weren’t sure if he’d tell you, but the look on his face made it clear something big had gone down.

He hesitated, debating whether to answer. Finally, he sighed. “She... started a rumor about you.”

Your head jerked back in surprise. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he grimaced like he’d swallowed something sour. “She said you passed out at the beach cleanup and decided to spread some bullshit about you doing drugs.”

You just stared at him. “She what?”

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised.

You knew what she was capable better than anyone, especially when she was bored out of her mind.

“I didn’t believe it,” he added quickly, his tone defensive, as if that made it better. “I told her to shut the fuck up about it, but you know how she is. She thought it was funny.”

“Funny?” Your voice was sharp now, “She thought it was funny to spread lies about me? About drugs? What the fuck?”

“Yeah, it’s so messed up. That’s why I’m not talking to her. I told her if she couldn’t act like a fucking decent human being, we were done.”

You blinked, stunned.

You weren’t sure what shocked you more—the fact that Ruthie had stooped so low or that Topper had finally stood up to her. You shook your head, biting back another nasty comment about how awful she was. You’d been saying it for months, and he hadn’t listened.

No point in beating a dead horse now.

“It’s about time you saw what she’s really like. She’s really bad fuckin’ news, Top. Always has been.”

He gave a low grunt, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter. “Yeah. Took me long enough, huh?”

You didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow and sipped your water.

“She’s always been weird about Sarah,” Topper muttered, almost to himself. “Even when we were together, she’d find these ways to dig at her. Like that one time at Midsummers—”

“—When she ‘accidentally’ spilled her drink on Sarah’s dress,” you finished, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I remember. She’s always had this thing about trying to one-up her. Honestly, it’s so pathetic. But you never listen to me, so.”

“Okay, ouch.” He threw a crumpled napkin at you, which you easily dodged. “I listen to you sometimes.”

“Do you, though?” You gave him a pointed look.

“Yeah, I do!” Topper protested, though the whine in his voice made him sound more like the teenager he used to be, back when he’d follow you around during family holidays like a puppy. “Just… selectively.”

“Selective listening isn’t listening, dumbass. You’re just proving my point.”

He narrowed his eyes at you but didn’t answer, reaching for another wing instead. He took a bite, chewing dramatically, as if the exaggerated crunch would somehow end the conversation.

“Look, I’ve been saying for months that Ruthie’s bad news. Since she showed up at last year’s Christmas party wearing a dress identical to Sarah’s, just in a different color. You thought that was a coincidence?”

Topper groaned, dropping the wing. “Okay, fine, you’re right. Are you happy now? Can you stop rubbing it in?”

You grinned, propping your chin on your hand.

“Oh, I could. But what kind of older cousin would I be if I didn’t remind you how often you’re wrong?”

“You’re not that much older than me.”

You shrugged. “Old enough to know better than to date someone that awful.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius. I get it.” He looked over at you again, his gaze softer, this time, “But seriously, you’ve been off lately. If there’s something going on, you can tell me, y’know? We’re family, even if I don’t listen to you half the time,” he added with a small smile, though his eyes were searching, hoping you’d let him in.

It would be so easy to tell him the truth—that you were pregnant, scheduled for an abortion in six days, and drowning in uncertainty and dread.

But he was still Rafe’s best friend, and the risk of this ever reaching him was too high. Instead, you forced a lightness into your voice.

“Nothing I can’t handle. And right now, I desperately need the bathroom.”

He looked at you skeptically, not fooled for a second.

“You’re really okay?” he pressed, his voice dropping to a level that told you he wasn’t going to let this go easily, "I texted and called before, you didn't answer. Thought you were resting from the scare."

You’d been having such a calm, easy time with Sarah, you almost forgot about everything else. The thought of picking up the phone, letting all that anxiety and worry back in, just wasn’t appealing—so you’d ignored his calls, but not on purpose. You were doing him a favor.

You plastered on a smile and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as you passed. “I promise, I’m fine. Just felt a little light-headed and needed some peace."

His eyes narrowed slightly, unconvinced. “That’s all?”

You forced a giggle, hoping it would sound more genuine than it felt. “Yes, Dr. Thornton. Just needed to eat more or drink water or whatever the fuck it is you’re always telling me to do.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, crossing his arms, watching you closely. “Because you’ve never just fainted before.”

“I guess there’s a first time for everything. Besides, don’t you think I’d tell you if something serious was wrong?”

It took everything to maintain eye contact, your stomach twisting at the lie. He was family, and you wanted to trust him, to let him help you. But you couldn’t. He hadn’t even told you about Rafe and Sofia until you found out by yourself. 

Topper tilted his head, considering you, then sighed and gave a reluctant nod. “Alright, fine.”

“Okay, if you’re done being weird,” You pushed back from the counter, grabbing your glass. “I gotta pee,” you announced casually, as if this was the most normal interjection in the world. The wings were good, but running away was tempting. And also, the pregnancy had made your bladder a ticking time bomb, and you really didn’t want to risk any accidents. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You offered him one last smile, hoping it was convincing enough. He whined some sarcastic comment about your water consumption as you hurried away, but you barely heard him.

All you thought about was the blessed relief that awaited on the other side of that door.

You didn’t usually spend this much time with Top nowadays—your own tendency to avoid “close” family drama—but tonight had been oddly… nice.

Even if you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck half the time. Even if you hated lying to him. If he’d just pushed a little harder, maybe you would’ve folded, let it all spill right there in the kitchen.

Every time you thought you’d come to a decision, another doubt would take over you, leaving you back at square one. You knew what you wanted, so why was this so hard? 

Topper had looked at you with such genuine concern back there. The “if you need me, I’m here” sentiment was the same one you’d grown up with, the kind of care only a cousin, practically a sibling, could have.

This was hard.

When you came back into the kitchen after taking your sweet time in the bathroom you immediately noticed something was off.

Topper was by the counter, staring at the half-eaten pile of wings by the table like they’d personally offended him. He looked paler, too—almost like he’d seen a ghost.

“Uh…” You stopped mid-step, furrowing your brow. “What’s with the stupid face? Did the wings betray you or something?”

He jolted slightly, as if he hadn’t even heard you come in. “What? No. No, the wings are fine. Great. Amazing, even.”

“Okay…” You gave him a skeptical look, setting your glass down and crossing your arms. 

Topper laughed, but it was this oddly nervous, stilted sound. He glanced at his phone, tapping the screen for no real reason, then shoved it into his pocket.

“You know what, though? I totally forgot—I have something planned. Like, super important. In about… ten minutes.”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “You forgot you had plans? Sounds fake, but okay.”

“So unlike me!” He got up from his chair with such sudden energy that it made you take a step back. “Anyway, I should really get going. Don’t want to be late. Uh, thanks for… hanging out. And for, uh, letting me use your wings as a form of therapy. Yeah. Later!”

And with that, he was sprinting for the door.

“Topper!” you called after him, confused and mildly annoyed. “What the hell is going on? You’re acting fuckin’ weird!”

“Nope, not weird! Just busy!” he shot back over his shoulder, not even looking at you as he opened the door.

You didn’t have time to yell at him before he disappeared out the door, the sound of his Jeep starting up echoing from the driveway a moment later. You stood there bewildered, staring at the now-empty doorway.

Something was definitely up. He was many things—dramatic, stubborn, occasionally insufferable—but shifty wasn’t usually one of them.

You went back to the kitchen, glancing at the counter, ready to brush off his weird exit as just another of his dramatics, when your eyes landed on a random envelope— the one you’d been using to scribble down everything lately. 

Extra small grocery lists, reminders, and, unfortunately, the number for the abortion clinic.

Rafe’s fingers curled loosely around the tumbler of bourbon, eyes set on nothing in particular. The lunch rush was winding down, country club regulars filing out.

He’d been there for over an hour—first, the meeting, listening to those finance guys ramble on about numbers, projections, all that bullshit he usually liked to hear. 

He’d faked his interest well enough, but his mind had been miles away. Mostly thinking about you. And the company, of course, because that was his priority right now. Or, it should be.

The whole thing with you, three days ago, it was a slow-mind-burning headache he couldn’t ignore, even if he wanted to. And he had wanted to, tried to, in fact.

He took another slow sip, hardly tasting the bourbon. Across the room, Sofia was working between tables, balancing trays and forcing her best country club smile.

All he saw when he looked at her was you, it only made him force down another swallow, running his thumb over the rim of the glass, mind somewhere between the company projections and the mess he’d made of things with you. 

It was ridiculous that you were still in his head. He should be thinking about that deal, about locking down his place in the Cameron empire. 

Rafe pushed the glass aside, signaling for the check when something caught his ear—a conversation from a nearby table.

“Yeah, she actually passed out the other day. Pathetic.” The voice was loud, sneering.

A dude’s voice followed, fake sympathy dripping from his tone. “I heard she was a fuckin’ mess after the whole breakup.”

“Oh, totally.” A different girl laughed, high-pitched and cruel. “She’s probably on something. Can you blame her? I’d be desperate too if he dumped me.”

It didn’t take a fucking genius to know who they were talking about. Small town and all, of course, things got around, mostly turning into half-truths and petty rumors.

He stopped all his movements, jaw clenching. His fingers tightened around the edge of the table, the only thing keeping him from breaking something, preferably bones.

They were talking about you. 

About some made-up version of you, the fact that these spoiled, airheaded brats thought they could shit talk about you like that, rip you apart for fun just because you weren’t there to defend yourself made him sick.

He pushed his chair back and stood, crossing the room with long strides. He didn’t care about the eyes following him as he walked up to their table, the laughter stopping the moment they looked up and saw the look on his face.

“What did you just say?”

The girl who’d been laughing, a petite brunette with too much makeup and a self-satisfied smirk, blinked up at him, her smile faltering.

“Oh, Rafe! We didn’t see you there. We were just…joking around,” she stammered, trying to backpedal.

“Joking?” He laughed, the sound making them flinch. “That what you call it? Spreading some bullshit rumor because it’s all your pathetic little lives have to offer?”

The brunette’s face went red. “I mean, we all heard about it. I’m just saying what everyone’s already thinking—”

His fists clenched and his patience, already thin, snapped the second he heard the guy—one of those trust fund preps with an overdone tan and a too-tight polo—chime in.

“Oh, come on, dude,” the guy smirked, leaning back in his chair, feigning nonchalance. “It’s not like she’s worth all that trouble, is she?”

His entire body went rigid, and before he registered it, he was leaning down, letting them feel the weight of his glare.

“Say that shit again,” Rafe taunted him, something almost amused twisting at the edge of his mouth, daring him to keep talking. “I’d love to hear you repeat yourself.”

“Relax, man—”

He didn’t even let him finish, eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a near whisper, more dangerous than shouting ever could be.

“You think it’s funny? Talking about someone who’s not even here to defend herself?”

The guy’s face paled, and Rafe swore he was seconds away from landing a punch, from wiping that smug grin off his face. Just as he prepared his fist, ready to make good on his threat, he felt a hand on his arm, a small, insistent tug. 

“Rafe,” a soft voice hissed. Sofia. He barely glanced at her, shrugging off her grip.

“Don’t,” he snapped, his voice sharp, dismissive.

He kept his eyes on the guy, who looked more uncomfortable by the second, squirming in his seat.

Sofia’s hand still hovering near his arm, cautious now. “Rafe, come on, this isn’t worth it. You’re better than this.”

She looked scared. Scared of him, scared of the situation. He wasn’t better than this.

He’d never been, and he’d been good enough at lying and pretending for her even to think that.

You would’ve known better.

Fuck, you wouldn’t have wasted time talking.

You would’ve yanked him back by his collar, shoved yourself between him and the guy, shot him that warning glare, daring him to keep pushing you so you’d have to drag him out by force. You always knew when he’d get like this, that edge in his voice, that look in his eye that told you he was seconds away from snapping. You knew better than anyone how to pull him back when he hit that switch.

But you’d never bothered with gentle.

Sofia’s eyes darted around the room, clearly embarrassed, maybe even afraid of drawing attention. He knew this wasn’t fair to her, that she hadn’t signed up for this part of him—the anger, the unpredictability. It wasn’t in his nature to stay silent, to ignore things and walk away. 

He could almost see it—feel it, like a familiar bruise under his skin. You’d shove him hard enough that he’d stumble back, half-pissed and half-shocked. You’d get in his face, not even close to scared, cutting through his spiral. “What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe? You wanna end up in jail over some loser? Grow up.”

If you’d been here, you wouldn’t have given him a choice. You’d have grabbed his arm and dragged him away, kept a grip on him until he’d snapped out of whatever dark place he’d dropped into. You’d push him until he finally let go, forced him to come down from that blinding fury and face the mess he’d just caused. It was the only way he’d ever been able to listen—when you pushed him to wake up, forced him to look at himself and see just how reckless, just how stupid he was about to be.

But Sofia? She had no idea. 

She thought saying “you’re better than this” was going to do anything, that with a light touch and some empty words, he’d suddenly be calm, reasonable, soft. 

But he’d never been that way, never with you, never with anyone.

She hadn’t done anything wrong; she’d just seen the version of him he’d wanted her to see. The version he’d put together, patched up and polished, all so he could convince himself he was something he wasn’t.

With her, it was easy to pretend. He could smooth his sharp edges, show her just enough of himself to keep her interested without letting her close enough to see the mess underneath.

He’d let her believe he was the kind of guy who could just calm down, let things slide. The kind of guy who’d listen. He’d wanted her to believe he was controlled, calm. Sofia’s softness had appealed to him, but now, it only highlighted the differences between them.

With you, he’d never had the luxury of pretending.

You’d seen through him from the start, never let him get away with putting on some act.

You hadn’t let him pretend to be better than he was, hadn’t let him off easy when he’d tried to brush things off or shut down. You knew every side of him, even the ones he’d rather ignore. You’d always known exactly who he was, who he wasn’t, and you’d never been afraid to remind him.

He didn’t want to let it go, didn’t want to give the guy an inch of leeway to think he’d won this. Rafe sighed and released his grip, his hand falling from the table as he finally stepped back. Sofia relaxed, giving him a relieved smile, but it only made him feel emptier. 

“You talk about her again and I’ll fucking kill you, you hear me?” 

The guy sputtered, looking down, embarrassed and shaken. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like an apology, but Rafe didn’t care enough to hear it.

Sofia’s hand was still on his tail when he left, and as soon as he walked out of earshot of the table, she followed him, crossing her arms. Her eyes narrowed with an expression he’d never seen from her —disbelief. 

“What was that?”

Everything.

Rafe didn’t speak. He was staring past her, back at the group, mind far from the confrontation and miles away with thoughts of you. She seemed to notice, her lips pressing together.

“I can’t believe you did that. You threatened to kill him, Rafe. Over what, a stupid rumor?”

A stupid rumor? She was making him feel like he was out of control, irrational—even though he couldn’t explain why this mattered so much.

“You wouldn’t get it. It’s not your problem.”

She flinched a little, her face falling, but to her credit, she didn’t look away. “You’re right. I don’t get it. Tell me.”

He wanted to believe that it could work with Sofia.

Nice girl, pretty too. She laughed at his jokes, and she didn’t call him out on his bullshit, because she didn’t even know that side of him existed. On paper, she was perfect. But she wasn't you.

He looked back at her, her worried eyes scanning his face.

It was frustrating—seeing the fear, feeling her judgment when she didn’t even know what she was judging.

To her, this was just some meaningless outburst, something he could turn on and off at will. This wasn’t her fault. He knew that. He hated how this wasn’t something he couldn't put into words, not in any way that would make sense to her.

“Forget it, alright?” his tone was harsher than he meant.

Sofia shook her head, clearly not willing to let it drop this time.

“Why would you get so worked up over something like this?"

To her, that’s all this was—just noise, harmless, inconsequential. 

She looked up at him expectantly, her brows furrowed in confusion, waiting for some reasonable answer.

And it pissed him off, how she kept waiting, expecting him to offer some calm, measured response when he didn’t even understand it himself.

Sofia’s eyes softened, but it only irritated him further.

“She’s nice,” Her words drifted out casually like she didn’t know she’d just cracked him open. “She defended me, last week, when I was serving brunch.”

He couldn’t stop the self-loathing.

You had always been that way—ready to defend anyone, even when you were the one hurting. Rafe winced, hating himself for it, hating that you could still be so good even after everything. He swallowed hard, keeping his expression blank.

“Did she?” he muttered, trying to sound indifferent.

“Yeah,” Sofia replied, watching his reaction with mild curiosity. “Guess I wouldn’t have expected that.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, that familiar hurt in his chest.

His mind was already conjuring all the times you’d jumped in, backed people up, and called out anyone who crossed a line. Even when it came to people you barely knew.

It made him feel like the worst person in the world, knowing that you’d been there for Sofia of all people, that you’d shown her that same loyalty. It made him hate himself even more.

His phone buzzed, saving him from the inevitable conversation, his hand brushed the side of his face as he glanced down at the unknown number flashing across the screen. He didn’t hesitate, before swiping the answer button.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Cameron, this is Dr. Harris from the hospital,” the voice on the other end said. “We’ve been trying to reach Miss Thornton about the blood work results from her visit three days ago. Unfortunately, there’s been an issue with our system and a few patient’s data has been deleted, except for the emergency contact information.”

Rafe’s stomach dropped.

He was still your emergency contact, not by choice probably. The hospital was calling about your blood work.

Was something wrong?

His blood ran cold. “Is she okay? Did something happen?” The urgency in his tone made Sofia’s eyes widen again, her confusion growing.

“We’re concerned about a possible infection. We need to run more tests to rule it out, but the symptoms suggest it could be more complicated. We must check thoroughly to be sure.”

“An infection?”

“Yes, but it could be nothing serious. We just need her to come in as soon as possible for a follow-up,” Dr. Harris explained.

There was a pause as if he expected Rafe to say something reassuring or offer to pass on the message. 

Sofia’s brows knitted together as she watched him. “Rafe?” 

“I’ll tell her,” he said, the words cracked in his throat. The doctor thanked him and hung up.

He stared at the phone waiting for it to ring again with more news, a reassurance that this wasn’t as serious as it sounded. 

You probably hadn’t changed your emergency contact because it slipped your mind.

He couldn’t stand the idea that something could be wrong, and he was not the one you called when you needed someone. All he’d ever done was mess things up between you.

“What’s going on?”

How the fuck was he going to tell you when you'd blocked him everywhere?

He couldn’t call, couldn’t text, couldn’t even show up unannounced without risking the usual argument that would end with you screaming at him to get out, or worse, you looking at him with that unforgiving stare.

He knew you’d locked every door, bolted every window to keep him out, and he deserved it. 

“It’s nothing,” he said, the lie slipping out automatically. He could feel her studying him, waiting for another explanation he also didn’t have the patience to give.

Maybe Topper could help.

The irony wasn’t lost on him—he’d given your cousin the mission of checking in on you, playing the careful messenger while Rafe kept his distance. That was supposed to be him.

But the reality was you hated him now, hated him enough that Topper was a safer option and yet, the private information still landed on his lap. As if he still had the right to be in your orbit, let alone the person trusted with this kind of news.

It felt wrong.

He knew you were going to hate him even more for still having access to your private details. It wasn’t really his fault—the hospital called him. He should have hung up the moment the hospital mentioned your name, told them they had the wrong guy. But he didn’t. He listened. 

“If you need to go—” she started, trailing off when he didn’t answer. Her voice softened, tentative. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”

Rafe’s jaw ticked, and he looked away, out at the horizon where the sun was setting.  “Yeah,” he muttered, not bothering to lie this time.

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard. He typed something out, then deleted it, then typed again.

Finally, he just went with the simplest thing he could think of and hit send.

Can we meet up? Tannyhill in 30. I think I know what’s wrong.

He half-expected some lame excuse or joke from Topper. Instead, the text he got made the deep lines across his forehead make an appearance.

Shit, you do???

Did the fucker already know?

Did he suspect? Or was this just the kind of baited question someone asked when they thought they were the last to know something big?

He frowned, gripping the phone tighter.

If Topper did know, why hadn’t he said anything?

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige

@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron

@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog

@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[canthelpit0]

Intimate

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k +

In wich: matt has a borderline obsession with cock warming

Warnings: smut, cock warming, p in v, use of y/n, 1st pov, praise kink, name calling (slut), pet names, unprotected, creampie

(A/N: English is not my first language! Also this song has like barely anything to do w the plot, I just feel like that’s the vibe. This is sort of like a blurb. Hope you guys like it <3)

One of the considerably weird things Matt is into is: cock warming.

I clench at the thought trying to focus on my history homework.

I’ve known Matt for practically all my life. We’ve always been close and no conversation between us was ever awkward.

Matt didn’t seem like the type to be into that sort of stuff. But one day, when, we were hanging out and cuddling like we were normally, I felt a hardness at my butt.

When I turned back to look at him he was blushing. Matt had his arms wrapped around my waist, spooning me.

After I asked him what that is, he responded with a question. “Can I..?” He trailed off and I wasn’t catching on to his train of thought.

“What? you want to fuck?” I huff rolling my eyes…not that I would be against it.

“No.” He said defensively squeezing my sides. “Can I just put it in?” Matt asked shyly.

I paused, But eventually complied. With the duvet being over us it shouldn’t be too awkward. He shuffled out of his sweatpants and pulled mine down too.

And before I knew it his finger was inside of me and I was wet.

After a few moments I felt the head of his dick press against me before feeling his entire length slide into me.

I never thought he’d be into that, but even further, I didn’t think that I’d like it too.

I shift feeling the angle change.

“Y/n/n, can you stop moving.” Matt huffs, his words sounding passive aggressive. He puts one of his hands on my hips to prevent as much movement as possible, his other hand still clutching his phone.

I clench again at the tone of his voice, slamming my pen down.

Ever since that day, when this first started off, I started to sit on him more often. Whether it was while we were cuddling or just mindlessly hanging out. We’re not necessarily friends with benefits tho.

I guess he just likes the feeling… but so do I.

It was bad, like we hung out so much Chris and Nick started to make joking remarks about it.

About us hanging out so much that is, not the… whatever we’re doing.

Like it was so bad that practically every time we were alone somewhere private, I was probably sitting on his dick.

It feels so intimate and good, and if we still have time after, he’ll rail me.

But I’m saying that when we’re at home doing homework, I’m sitting on his lap. Or when cuddling or sleepovers. Or even when we go get fast food to eat in the parking lot at night. I’ll climb over the middle console and sit down on it.

I was never a skirt person, but I started to wear skirts more often just for the easier access.

I could go hours just calmly sitting on it.

But sometimes after a while I would get frustrated.

I try to grind into him, Matt still holding me in place as much as he can.

“What? You wanna get yourself off on my dick?” He huffs. His grip on my hip gets harder making me whine, while his other hand still holds his phone.

He’d been scrolling through TikTok and various other social media while I was trying to get all of my homework done.

And it’s been probably over an hour now and I was getting frustrated from all the homework. doing math first was definitely a mistake.

And while on a normal day I would be fine with the intimacy and wouldn’t be trying to get myself off, the homework today was frustrating. And since Matt was already balls deep inside of me, I might as well.

He leans over putting his phone on my desk. With the movement his hand on my hip loosens giving me the opportunity to start to slightly ride him.

“Fuck-“ i sigh. I lean forward on my arms, trying to get as much friction as I can, both on my sweet spot and also my clit.

I hear Matt’s low groan. And suddenly his hands are on my hips again, holding me in place.

“Y/n I swear, i will make you cum over and over again until you’re seeing fucking stars if you don’t fucking stop right now and go back to your homework.”

His tone is authoritative and so hot. Why was he saying that like it would be such a bad thing anyway.

“Matt please.” I whine.

Sometimes Matt would get frustrated and fuck me while I wasn’t even paying him any mind, and sometimes it was the other way around.

He huffs letting go of my hips. Matt leans back as he just watched me and my every move.

I let out a shaky breath once again, leaning forward more to lift myself better.

“Fucking slut, getting yourself off on your best friends dick.” He rolls his eyes in exasperation.

His hands go to my waist, assisting my movements now instead of stopping me.

“If you cum I’m still gonna Make you warm me.” He warns his tone assertive.

Matt holds me in place for a few seconds and scoots the chair back. I sigh leaning forward, using my forearms to prop me up, before starting to ride him again.

His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth dropped in a silent moan while he watches me.

He somehow seemed way less sensitive than me. But I can literally feel the knot starting to tie In My stomach just waiting to snap.

By this point I was panting and Matt was letting out some heavy breaths too.

“Fuck- Matt, Matt” I whine his name my voice pitching higher as i keep getting closer.

“You close baby?” He breaths out keeping his hands on my hips for stability.

I let out a sharp breath letting my head drop forward as I keep up the angle and speed up in order to reach my climax faster.

“Yeah.” One of my hands go down to my clit to rub it, resulting in my other arm having to hold me up alone.

“Come then.” He demands, his voice sounding cocky. I can hear him breathe heavily and bite his lip to keep quiet.

With his hands tightening on my hips, I feel the knot in my stomach snap.

I let out a loud moan, piercing through the, otherwise, mostly quiet room.

I sit down again my pussy convulsing around his cock.

I sigh, trying to calm down again. Matt’s hands rub my sides, holding my back to his chest and mumbling sweet nothings into my ear.

“You good?” He asks after I mildly catch my breath. I lean more into him, my eyes fluttering closed as I mumble an agreement.

“You gonna go back to your homework now, or…?” He trails off waiting for me to answer.

“No” I breathe out and slightly look over my shoulder to make eye contact with him.

He lets his huge grin take over his features. He picks me up gently, making me wince, to wich he whispers encouraging praises into my ear.

My back makes contact with my bed. I sigh at the feeling of the soft sheets under me. And I watch as Matt hurriedly takes off his shirt.

I was still wearing my mini skirt and a long sleeve shirt, but Matt didn’t look like he was going to take them off. The access was easy, so really, why do the extra work.

Matt rubs my lower stomach, while his other hand holds his dick. He glides it up my folds before slipping it back into me. I whine at the feeling throwing my head back into the mattress.

I’m still sensitive from my previous orgasm and also from the hour of cock warming’s

It wasn’t like he wasn’t sensitive too. I could see him physically hold back from releasing right then and there.

Our eyes stay locked while he starts to rock his hips against me. I can feel him hit that spot in me that makes pure euphoria shoot through my entire body.

Despite not being labeled, it always felt so intimate with Matt.

Maybe it was because most of the time it was literally just cock warming and nothing else. But sometimes, when it did come to the actual intercourse - penetration type of thing, it still felt intimate.

“So good for me baby.” He breaths out. Our eyes stay locked, my mouth dropped in quiet moans.

“Fuck- you like being filled?” He chuckles. His hand stays on my lower abdomen, pressing down slightly to feel himself.

I close my eyes briefly trying to respond, but the way his hips snap into me, and the way he still manages to make this feel sensual, has my head fuzzy.

“Fuck..” Matt breaths out his eyes staying locked on my face. “Too fucked out to answer now?”

All I can do is whine out his name and moan loudly, and he takes pride in that. I know he does. I can see it in his eyes.

“You wanna be fucking full all the time, don’t you baby?” Matt taunts, somehow speeding up even more.

I clench around him my legs going stiff at the constant and heavy stimulation.

Matt notices and readjusts, picking up my legs further so they’re on his shoulders before he picks up pace again.

“Close” I whine out, I can feel the knot in my stomach getting tighter by the second, threatening to snap anytime now.

“Good girl” he hums. Matt’s fingers find their way towards my clit as he starts to vigorously rub it.

“Oh god-“ I moan loudly throwing my head back, my eyes shutting tightly as I try not to get overwhelmed, even tho i already am.

“Eyes on me.” Matt speaks lowly also panting. His movements pick up pace getting more rough and messy, indicating that he’s close too.

My eyes snap open, immediately meeting his. And as soon as they do, I feel my body convulse, my orgasm washing over me like a wave. But despite that, I try to keep my eyes on Matt as best as I can.

“So pretty.” He breathes out harshly and before either of us know it, he gives me one last thrust and fills me up.

I pant, trying to catch my breath. I feel a thin layer of sweat coat my skin, but despite that, I love this feeling.

This post orgasmic state was sending me into almost as much euphoria as the sex itself.

I watch through lazy, heavy-lidded eyes as Matt sits up straighter, moving my legs from off of his shoulders.

“You wanna clean up or sleep like this sweetheart?” He asks tilting his head. Matt was trying to contain a goofy smile.

“Just..” I trail off and let out a breath. Damn I didn’t realize just how out of breath I am.

“Just lay down.” I breathe out.

He licks his lips his eyes wandering from my face to my body and how it’s still clothed.

“You wanna sleep with clothes, or…” he trails off. Matt’s eyes come to meet mine again with a playful glint.

“Matt, I don’t care” I say exasperated.

“I wanna cuddle?” He says like I said we wouldn’t. I huff a slight laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation at hand.

Matt huffs trying and failing to hold back a smile. He gently and slowly pulls out in order to not hurt me. But I still wince from the over stimulation.

He pulls the skirt back down and than reaches for the zipper. He pulls the skirt off tossing it to the floor carelessly.

He then reaches for my long sleeve shirt. I sit up slightly so he can take that, and my bra also off.

Now being nude under him, he looks satisfied. He hums in approval and wordlessly lays down next to me, before I feel his arms go around my waist.

“You think you can warm me, baby?” He whisper sweetly into my ear. I feel a shiver run down my spine from his tone of voice. My eyes shut I take in his silk like words.

“Corse.” I breathe out pushing my hips back into him to tease him.

Matt chuckles lowly. I feel his length slide through my folds. Still being soaked in our combined juices, it was fairly easy for him to slip back in, not that it didn’t make me moan.

I felt way too sensitive, but like hell would I ever say no to this.

Matt chuckles at the low moan I let out. He has his arm spread out so I can lay on it his other arm around my waist. “You do like being full?” He asks in fake shock.

“You were the one that started this tho?” I question right back not moving at all. Simply keeping my eyes closed and enjoying the closeness and intimacy.

“Touché.”

Masterlist

A /N: sorry for being gone for so long guys. Schools been overwhelming. But yeah, I hope you guys liked this. Requests and asks are open & feedback is always appreciated 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun

[rbfclassy]

QUICKIE! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...toji just can’t keep his hands to himself after not fucking you for a week...which results in a quickie

INFO...toji x fem!reader, reader and toji have kids, toji calls reader mama, doggy, groping, spanking, missionary (?), praise, cream pie, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

“Hey do you have anything to wash?” You walked up to Toji holding the laundry basket in your hands as he played with your two kids.

He looked up at you from the floor. “Nah, I’m all set, mama.” He smiled, handing your son his favorite toy. With a nod, you walked away with the full basket, heading towards the laundry room. You sighed at the clean pile of clothes that you had to fold, rolling your eyes in annoyance.

You threw the dirty clothes in the wash before grabbing the detergent. You let out a small squeak at the feeling of your husbands hands snaking around your waist. “You scared me,” you chuckled.

“Sorry,” he responded, pulling you against his chest, sinking his head into the crook of your neck. He placed a small kiss on your skin, hands rubbing up and down your waist. “Should’ve asked me for help.”

You closed the detergent, placing it back on the shelf as you started the washer. “It’s fine, I got it,” you replied. Toji hummed in response, his hands moving lower and lower down your body. “Toji, what are you doing?” You giggled.

You tried to turn and face him but he kept you from doing so. “Uh uh, stay just like this for me,” he whispered. He pushed his hips against your ass, his cock semi-hard. “We haven’t been able to do anything for the past week. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little pent up, and you walking around with these shorts and tank top isn’t helping one bit.” He smacked your ass before giving it a harsh squeeze.

You bit down on your bottom lip, feel him grow more hard as you moved your against him. It was true, you and Toji haven’t had sex in the last week or so. Both of you so tired from work and the kids, running errands, it always got in the way of your sex life. You hadn’t really thought about it much before, but now that Toji brought it up, you were feeling quite pent up too. “So, what’re you gonna do about it, hm?” You asked, teasingly.

A low chuckle left his lips, his fingers grazing over your skin, making their way under the fabric of your clothes. His hands came up to your chest, cupping your tits and squeezing them, groping them. Your skin started to heat up and arousal pooled in your panties. Just his touch alone was enough to get you all hot and bothered. “We gotta be quick.” He hurriedly bent you over the washer, a swift hand pulling your shorts and underwear down. “I’ll never get tired of seeing this ass…fuck,” he groaned. He palmed himself through his sweats, admiring the view of your dripping cunt.

Toji wasted no time in pulling his sweats and boxers down, cock springing free and leaking pre cum. He let out a shaky breath, rubbing his tip up and down your slit, mixing his arousal with yours. He could already feel how warm and wet you were, cock throbbing at the thought, anticipating how you feel around him. Slowly, his head pushed past your entrance, your lips wrapping around him, sucking him in. “Ohhh fuck, baby—mmm shit,” he breathed. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you back on him, going deeper to reach your sweet spot.

“Ah, oh my god.” The stretch was so deliciously intoxicating, sending your brain into a spiral and he’s barely moved yet. “Baby, we gotta be quick, please,” you begged, afraid that one of the kids might knock on the door and interrupt. You felt him thrust slowly, letting you get used to the feel of his cock before going any faster.

“Shhh, it’s fine. They’re watching a movie.” He began pulling you back against his hips so you met his thrusts, your walls clenching around him each time he threatened to pull out. “This pussy is so wet for me, goddamn,” he grunted, moving faster.

“F-fuck!” You stammered, feeling how hard and fast he was going. “Feels so fucking good!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hands gripping onto the edges of the washing machine as you tried to hold yourself stable. “Nnngh! You’re so deep! Oh my god!” You squealed.

Toji pulled you up, your back pressed against his chest as he continued to pound into you. “Shh, mama. I know it feels good, but you gotta keep quiet for me, okay?” He placed his hand over your mouth, his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you steady. Your eyes fluttered shut, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. “Ohh fuck yes. Shit, this pussy feels so fucking good.”

Your muffled moans fell upon deaf ears, your legs felt like they were jelly. Pleasure clouded your mind, all you could think about was him fucking you until you came over and over again. Suddenly, he stopped. He grabbed your hips, turning you around and lifting you on top of the washing machine. He pulled you close to the edge, your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. Both watched as he slowly slid back inside, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he felt you wrap around him again. “Look at me, don’t take your eyes off me,” he demanded.

You stared back at him with lustful eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fought so hard to hold back your moans and whimpers. Your brows furrowed in pleasure, feeling how close you were to cumming. Your jaw dropped, head falling back as he grazed over your g-spot. “Oh fuck you’re gonna make me cum!” You cried, gasping for air. “Fuck! Fuck! Baby!” You whimpered.

“I know, mama. Let it all out for me. Cum on this dick.” He kept his pace the same, feeling you clench around him, a sign you were close. His hand wrapped around your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, tongues messily moving against each other as he swallowed your moans. Finally, the coil snapped. You pulled away from the kiss, eyes rolling back, body quivering as you came. Toji covered your mouth again, muffling your curses and moans. “There you go, that’s my good fucking girl.”

He pulled his hand away, staring back at you with half lidded eyes, loving the cum drunk look written all over your face. “Cum in me,” you spoke.

“But, your not on—”

“I don’t care, cum in me,” you said with desperation.

“I fucking love you,” he chuckled with a smile, his thrusts growing sloppier. He was fixated the way his cock disappeared in you, each time he pulled back out he could see your cum at the base. It only drove him more crazier. “Nnngh, ah! Oh, baby I’m gonna cum!” His hips stuttered against yours before he buried himself deep inside of you, feeling him coat your walls with his sticky cum. “Fuck!” He grunted. “Ah, yes!” He breathlessly chuckled.

“I think we both needed that,” you laughed.

“I agree.” He smiled, pulling you closer to place his lips on yours. He slowly pulled out, his cum slowly dripping out of you. “We made quite a mess.” He looked down between your legs and then back up at you.

“We’ll clean it up—”

A knock on the door startled both on you, thankfully Toji had locked the door. “Mommy, daddy, the movie is over! We wanna watch another!”

“It’s your bedtime, sweetheart! Maybe tomorrow!” Toji shouted back. Both of you looked at each other, sharing a few seconds of silence before laughing. “I think we might have to start doing quickies more often, yeah?” He whispered.

“Once you put the kids to sleep, meet me in the shower.” You kissed his lips, entangling your fingers in his hair.

“I just can’t get enough of you, mama.”

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Sacrificial Bride

Yandere Dragon Shifter x Princess Reader

TW: Yandere behavior, manipulation, Somniaphilia (suggested), delusional yandede, complacency, etc.

Feroc the Ferocious was the kind of dragon who would bring any silly knight to their knees. The kind of dragon that inspired legends and stories to be written in books. The kind of dragon that was larger than any castle human like could ever dream to build. The kind of dragon that could decimate a kingdom with a single breath of his fiery flames if he was angered… the dragon that your own people sacrificed you, the princess, to in order to save themselves from his wrath.

And so they bound you up and threw you before him. Your own father on his knees as he begged the great dragon for mercy in exchange for his own flesh and blood… the kingdom’s most prized beauty in exchange for peace. An offer Feroc quickly accepted before the king could utter another word!

Dragons collected beautiful treasures! Dragons hoarded their treasure in caves and abandoned castles fad from prying eyes… and unbeknownst to you, Feroc found you to be rhetorical most beautiful

For dragons, a sacrificial spouse was an ancient tradition and this was the first time he’d been offered such a perfect bride! How could he refuse you? Especially when your own people begged him so prettily? Would you beg for him just as beautifully one day?

And so you were scooped up in his ginormous talons and carried away in the sky to a lone tower deep in the mountains. Your new home… your home with Feroc.

You could recall how scared of him you used to be. You’d heard from many people of how this giant scaled beast before you was a man eater. Of how he swallowed many knights in his time… yet this dragon seemed so shy from your experience so far. Skittish even.

Feroc often brought you various jewelry and fine silks from his daily raids. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t bring you a gift of some kind. His molten eagerly studied your form despite his persistent silence. Feroc’s company disturbed you as much as it comforted you.

It took a month for him to speak to you. His accent was heavy from the olden tongue he spoke but he knew the same language you spoke. His voice was booming and low, it could easily strike terror in others… but for some reason, his voice calmed you. Perhaps loneliness has finally crept its fangs into your heart? You weren’t sure…

Feroc would bring you anything you wanted to eat. Within means, of course. He’d bring you delicacies he’d likely looted off some poor caravan if you said you wanted sweets. There was no extremes he wouldn’t go to for you, which was odd since he was a dragon who’s been around for hundred of years… why did Feroc have such an interest in a human princess?

One day, you had a nightmare of a man standing in the corner of your room. Your scream in the night quickly alerted your guardian who peaked his large eye in your room in worry.

“Princess? What’s wrong?”

“I just had a nightmare… I thought there was a man in my room.” You wiped the sweat from your forehead while Feroc clicked his tongue.

“No man could ever scale his tower. I’m the only one who can enter. I’d never let anyone harm you.” The red and black dragon grumbled, his molten eyes glanced you once over. “Why? Do you… want a human companion?”

“I do get lonely sometimes.” You admitted to Feroc . His eyes now filled with hurt. “I do enjoy your company but… I miss being able to touch another human.”

Feroc didn’t understand your sentiment. He was a might dragon! The strongest of his kind! Feroc has proven himself to be the best of mates to you and yet you were still displeased? Was it because he was a dragon? Would you be happier if he showed you his other form?

“I’ll figure something out then… get some sleep.”

Feroc now snuck in your bedroom when you slept. He ghosted his clawed fingers over your oblivious form in wonder. His clawed fingers were too sharp, he’d have to dull them more… he didn’t want to cut up his pretty princess!

Feroc’s gentle touches progressed when he noticed how heavy of a sleeper you were. His desire to see what made you human drove him to insatiable heights. No area was left unexplored with his eyes. He needed to be perfect. Feroc had to be compatible with you. You and him were going to have young one day, after all! Feroc didn’t want to harm you in the process!

Feroc was able to mold his body into a perfect man. Once that was the perfect size for you, yet still immense so you’d know it was him. Feroc now stood at a massive seven feet tall rather than the hundred feet of his dragon form.

Yet there was a constant fear within him that you’d die of old age or of natural causes… Feroc knew humans were fragile creatures so he did what he had to. Feroc shared half of his heart with you while you slept. It was a simple spell and a painless procedure for you. One that would benefit the both do you in the long run!

If one of you died, the other would! You’d never age! You now shared a lifespan with him. Feroc couldn’t wait to tell you once the two of you made everything official!

It took another month for him to reveal this perfect form to you. Feroc had to let the excitement die down from sharing his heart with you so you didn’t freak out! Humans were such finicky creatures, after all! And he’d be an awful mate if he frightened you with a subject you had no knowledge on…

All you needed was to see this devilishly beautiful form of his and you’d be bewitched.

“Look at us… we’re so beautiful together.” Feroc whispered into the skin of your shoulder as he admired your reflection beside him. “I think I’ll find you more gold to decorate you with, my treasure.”

“Feroc, I don’t understand.” You jump when Feroc dragged his forked tongue across your exposed shoulder.

“You accepted all of my gifts and you’re the only one who suits me.” Feroc hissed his obsidian eyes flashed a bright gold. “Wouldn’t you rather be by my side than in my stomach?”

You gulped and obediently rested your head on his chest which made him purr in contentment. His muscular arms wrapped around yours as his wavy black hair tickled your skin.

“I’m joking, I’d never eat you.” Feroc smiled before he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “You’re my bride, after all.”

You didn’t need to know about how many knights he’s killed over the last few months for you. Feroc would take care of you until the day the both of you died. Every heinous act he’s ever committed over these last few months were all for his beautiful, blushing bride.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

that old cliché.

you swore you’d never give in to the maid of honour and best man cliche. and then you met evan buckley.

evan buckley x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol. buck’s a filthy flirt.

word count - 6k

authors note - and so she returns!! thank you all so much for your loveliness on my post about my break - I appreciate it more than you know. this one was so much fun to write. i’ve not written any longer stuff for buck, but he’s a character I feel that I have a really good understanding of - I actually think we’re very alike - so this came so easy. hope you love it as much as I do. <3

masterlist. inbox.

Silvery melodies of laughter clink off the rim of the champagne flute you hold in your freshly manicured hand. As the gentle breeze whips through the material of your dress, you look around you, realising you’ve never seen so many people so happy at once.

The backyard of the Italian villa is packed, dozens of guests milling around - dancing, drinking, chatting and catching up. Family, friends, colleagues; people from every phase of the bride and grooms life, all celebrating together in one place.

A rocks glass is placed down onto the table in front of you with a thud. Looking up, you’re met with the sight of the best man towering over you expectantly with a drink in his hand.

“Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

You scoff, staring up at him through your lashes.

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yeah. But why?”

“It’s whiskey. I watched you grimace every time you had to drink the champagne, so I thought you’d want something different.”

You swirl the glass, listening to the tinkle of the ice against the sides.

“You were watching me, huh?”

“Of course I was. Can’t take my eyes off you in that dress.”

“Shut up,” you chide, fighting to keep the grin off your face. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“The whole best man and maid of honour thing. It’s just too cliched.”

He laughs all hearty and genuine, and you poignantly ignore the way the butterflies start fluttering in your stomach.

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head at him.

“Yeah, right. In your dreams, Evan.”

“Oh, you will be,” he winks, knocking his glass against yours in a quick cheers before walking off to the find the groom.

You watch him go, not completely oblivious to the way his suit fits him just right. Determined to stand your ground, you inhale a deep breath before taking a sip of your drink. The drink that definitely isn’t exactly what you needed. The drink that he’d practically read your mind to figure out. Effortlessly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s been like this all day.

You met Evan Buckley for the first time last night, at the rehearsal dinner. The bride, your best friend in the world, kept telling you that you’d love the best man.

“He’s from California,” she’d said. “He’s Danny’s friend from when they were kids. He’s a firefighter, babe. He’s hot.”

You’d laughed it off, zipping up the back of her dress while she watched you in the mirror.

“Oh, come on. That’s so cliched. The whole maid of honour and best man thing is so old, Lucy.”

“You’re single, he’s single,” she’d protested. “It’d do you some good to get laid, relieve some stress. And people let their guards down at weddings. Now’s your chance.”

“If I wanted to get laid, I’d get laid,” you scoffed.

“All I’m saying is that Buck is completely your type. He’s gorgeous, he’s funny, he’s sweet. And you’re gonna have to spend a fair bit of time together tonight and tomorrow, so… just keep an open mind.”

“Fine,” you soothed, rolling your eyes. “Mind wide open. Alright?”

“You’re gonna love him.”

“You said that already.”

“Because I really believe it. You’re gonna love him.”

And the problem is… she was kind of right.

No, you don’t love him. You’ve known him for 48 hours. But… there’s something.

Lucy wasn’t lying. He is gorgeous, and funny, and sweet. And hot. So hot. He showed up to the rehearsal dinner in dress pants and a linen shirt, all sun kissed and muscled and tanned and stunning.

The two of you were seated next to each other, planned so carefully by the bride and groom. One minute you were making cautious introductions, shaking hands and smiling gently. The next minute you were crying with laughter, clutching at his bicep as he grabs your thigh, legs intertwined and chairs pulled together.

Lucy and Danny nudge each other occasionally, watching the both of you get along like two old friends that have known each other forever. A look passes between them that says I told you so clear as day.

But you’re stubborn. Too stubborn, some may say. You know you’ll never hear the end of it from your friends if you give into this very alluring temptation, and perhaps your pride means a bit more to you than it should. So you resist, you refuse to give in. Even if you really want to.

And that was just last night. Today has been even worse.

By worse, you mean the connection between you and Evan has grown even stronger. You walked down the aisle with him, arm linked with his, both dressed up to the nines. The maid of honour and the best man, a perfect picture.

You haven’t been able to keep your hands off each other all day. Little touches - his fingers on the small of your back, your grip on his bicep, shoulders brushing and thighs pressed together. Nothing crazy, but nothing meaningless, either. There’s an undeniable electricity buzzing between you, hot and alive.

You’re not sure how much longer you can deny it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re dancing with Lucy and her little nieces when you hear yelling and commotion coming from the other side of the dance floor. Looking over, you see Danny, Evan and other groomsmen flailing around and fussing.

“What happened?” Lucy’s yelling, making her way over with you in tow.

“Just a drink spillage, Luce! But it’s red wine, and now Buck’s shirt is pink.”

You look at the man in question and can’t help but laugh. His crisp white dress shirt is now a pretty shade of pink across the front, his cheeks a rosy colour to match.

“Stop laughing,” he chides, but he’s grinning at you as he says it. “I need to go and change. I have a spare shirt in my suitcase upstairs.”

He starts to leave, but soon turns around and calls your name.

“I don’t have a key for that big door at the end of the hallway to get to our rooms. Do you?”

“Yeah, it’s in my purse. You want it?”

“Just come with me. It’ll be easier.”

Before you can argue, he’s taken off, big strides across the garden. You have to practically run in your heels to keep up with him, shaking your head in frustration.

“I could have just given you this,” you say when you reach the door, unlocking it for him.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The smirk he gives you is so cheeky, it’s a wonder you don’t smack it off his face. Cocky bastard.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, walking with purpose to his room.

“Come in with me? It’ll only take a minute, then we can walk back together.”

You know you should say no, tell him that you’ll meet him downstairs. But you don’t. Instead, you say,

“Fine. But hurry up. I don’t wanna miss the party.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes, unlocking the door to his room that’s conveniently directly across from yours.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, trying to avoid watching him undress. He shrugs off his now pink shirt, taking it with him into the bathroom.

You’re surprised at how tidy everything is. Not that you think Evan would be particularly messy, but he doesn’t strike you as a neat and clean type. His suitcase is unpacked into the closet, bed made, nothing on the floor. It only makes you like him more.

“Can you grab my other shirt from the closet please, gorgeous? The one I wore last night for the rehearsal dinner.”

You swing the two doors open and rifle around, failing to see the linen button up that he’s looking for. Suddenly, you feel a warmth behind you, Buck’s solid form caging you in. He reaches around you, arm brushing yours as he finds what he needs.

“Found it,” he murmurs into your ear, all low and honeyed.

Against your better judgment, you turn around, finding yourself face to face with him. He towers over you, watching your reactions carefully. Your hands reach out and rest on his bare chest, steadying yourself before you either fall over or pass out.

Buck gently traces your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes completely locked on yours. You have to resist every urge to either bite it or suck it into your mouth, reminding yourself that now isn’t the time. The noise from the garden floats up and through the window that’s cracked open slightly, tethering you to the reality that is slowly fading away the longer you hold Evan’s gaze.

He leans in, and to your surprise, doesn’t kiss you immediately. Pressing his forehead to yours, he inhales deeply, as if committing the moment to memory. His thumbs are now tracing gentle circles on your jaw, soft and callous at the same time. You inhale slowly, processing the scent of his cologne mixed with the evening breeze. If you could bottle it up, you think, you’d be a millionaire. This would cure everything.

Buck finally closes down the gap between you, inching towards your lips softly. You shut your eyes, waiting for him to finally kiss you - when there’s deafening knocking on the door. The two of you jump apart, hearts pounding and nerves on a live wire.

Evan strides over to the source of the noise, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself as he goes. You perch on the edge of the bed, smoothing down your dress and attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Buck? Dude, it’s Jake. Hurry up, yeah? The guys wanna do our dance routine before everyone gets too drunk to remember it.”

He doesn’t bother opening the door, just yells back through the wood.

“Yeah, sure - I’ll be down in a minute!”

You hear Jake’s footsteps retreat, both of you exhaling the breaths you didn’t know you’d been holding. Buck looks at you, worried that the moment’s been ruined, to find you stifling a laugh behind your hand.

“There’s a dance routine?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, fighting to keep the grin off his face. “We created it years ago. The guys won’t let it die.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.”

You’re cackling, reclining onto the duvet as you laugh.

“Stop,” he groans, jumping over to flop onto his back on the bed next to you. “I did a lot of regrettable things in college… and that routine is definitely the worst of it.”

“I hope you know that you’re never going to live this down, Buckley. I’ll be reminding you of this forever.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at you. “You really like me, huh?”

“What the hell gave you that impression?”

“You said forever. What’s next, honey? You gonna get down on one knee later?”

You’re suddenly aware of the warmth of the whiskey flowing through your veins, giving you a liquid confidence that stuns both you and the man lying next to you.

“Two knees, maybe. But not one.”

His eyes go wide as you smirk, pulling yourself off the bed and making your way over to the door. Buck watches you carefully, gaze steady and firm.

“You coming? I’m more than ready to see those moves of yours.”

He stands up, slipping on his shoes and shrugging the clean shirt onto his broad shoulders. You grab your purse, leaning against the doorframe as you wait.

Evan reaches past you for the door handle, nose purposely brushing yours as he does it.

“I’ll hold you to what you said before,” he murmurs, moving a strand of hair away from your face softly. “Don’t think I won’t.”

You look up at him with big doe eyes, like butter wouldn’t melt.

“Sure, Evan,” you reply lowly. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Breaking away from him, you swing the door open, strutting down the hallway without looking back. Your confidence has sky rocketed, knowing that he wants this just as badly as you do. You walk back out to the garden and take your earlier seat, ready for the show you’ve been promised.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The dance routine is spectacular.

It’s cheesy and hilarious and very early 2000s inspired - it’s almost like watching a music video from a boy band you loved when you were a teenager. It should embarrass you, turn you off majorly, but… it doesn’t. It only does the opposite.

Everything Buck does makes you like him more.

You spend the rest of the evening dancing, laughing, and floating on cloud nine. In a garden in Italy, surrounded by your best friends - you can’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

As the evening dwindles to an end, everyone slowly begins making their way back to their rooms within the villa. You sit down, unbuckling your heels to finally give your feet a rest. It almost feels like deja vu when a rocks glass is placed down in front of you on the table.

“Hi, Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yes, but why?”

He pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down, looking at you intently.

“Thought we could have a nightcap before we go upstairs.”

You look around to find that mostly everyone has decided to call it a day. You can see Lucy and Danny walking off hand in hand, going for a stroll around the grounds before they let the wedding officially be over. It just leaves you and Buck, sat in your original places.

“Is this Baileys?”

“Yes ma’am. Do you like it? I figured you probably wouldn’t want another whiskey, seeing as you’ve had so many.”

You scoff, trying to fight the grin that threatens to take over your face.

“I’ve had, like, four, thank you very much.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, making you chuckle as you shake your head.

“Cheers, Evan,” you toast, clinking your glass against his matching one. “We did it. A wedding without a hitch. Mostly.”

“My shirt will never be white again, but besides that, we did a pretty good job.”

“We make a good team.”

He looks slightly taken aback by your honesty, trying to hide his smirk.

“Yes, we do. A super hot, super funny team.”

“A super hot, super funny team.”

You both laugh, heads thrown back with no cares in the world. Buck shuffles his chair forward so his legs are slotted on either side of you, warm skin radiating into yours. The moonlight is glinting off of his cheekbones, illuminating the light streaks in his hair. You’re a little tipsy and much too tired to fully fight your feelings anymore.

He’s beautiful, and you’re sick of denying it.

The two of you finish off your drinks, sat in a comfortable silence beneath the starry night sky. His hand has found its way onto your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle patterns into your bare skin. You’re sneaking glances at him when he looks away, admiring the way he’s glowing, buzzed off of the alcohol and the excitement of the day. He’s doing the same with you, soft smile etched onto his face as he watches you gaze up at the stars above your heads.

A yawn escapes you, making both of you chuckle.

“I’ll walk you to your room?”

“Well, you better. I’m the only one of us with a key for that big door.”

He laughs even harder, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I forgot about that. If you weren’t here, I’d have slept on the floor in the hallway or something.”

“Probably wouldn’t be the first time,” you mutter, standing up and tucking your chair under the table.

“Sorry, what was that? Say it again? Hmm? Hmm?” he wraps his arms around your middle, spinning you so your feet are no longer on the floor.

“Okay, okay! Put me down before I throw up,” you shriek, giggling like a teenager.

He places you back down, hands on your hips to steady you. You look up at him, keeping your eyes fixed on his to steady yourself from the dizziness. When you feel ready to go, you clear your throat, willing yourself to walk away before you kiss him stupid.

“We should go to bed,” you whisper, afraid to ruin the moment.

“Yeah?”

“Separate beds,” you tell him sternly, chuckling when he cackles.

“Yes ma’am.”

Buck walks you back to your room in a gentlemanly fashion, looping your arm through his to keep you both upright. When you reach your door, your fingers linger on the handle, as if you’re not quite ready to go inside just yet.

Reaching out gently, he moves a strand of hair from your face, fingertips brushing your cheekbone as he does it. You sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut at the sweet contact.

“Goodnight, gorgeous,” he murmurs lowly. “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight.”

He takes a step back towards his door when you speak again.

“Evan?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Everything, today. You’ve been a damn good best man.”

“Well, thank you. For being the best maid of honour.”

You nod, smiling like an idiot as you unlock your door and shut it behind you. You take a deep breath when you’re finally inside, throwing down your heels onto the floor and your purse onto the side table. Reaching behind you, your fingers tug at the zipper on your dress, attempting to pull it down.

It’s only now you realise your dilemma. The zipper is on an awkward place on your back, right where you can’t get to. You think quickly back to this morning - one of the bridesmaids doing the dress up for you, pulling the material taut as she fastened it. You’re not going to be able to get this off yourself.

Finding the purse that you discarded minutes earlier, you aim to find a hair clip. If you can loop a bobby pin into the zipper, you think, you might be able to pull it yourself. You root around in it for a second, before pulling out two phones.

Well, fuck.

You’d completely forgotten that Evan had given it to you earlier in the evening, worried that it was going to get broken if it stayed in his back pocket. You’d tucked it away and not thought about it again.

Until now.

Now, you’re realising that you’re going to have to go and give it back. He probably hasn’t remembered that you have it, otherwise you’re sure he’d be knocking on the door or yelling across the hallway.

You stand in the middle of your room, with two phones and a stuck zipper, wondering if the universe thinks this is funny.

You’re certainly not laughing.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“Evan?”

He swings the door open, facing you in his suit trousers with no shirt on.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. I, uh, I have your phone.”

Holding it out to him, his fingertips brush yours as he takes it from you, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh, shit. I forgot about this. Thanks, pretty.”

“Of course.”

You stand and look at each other for a second, so much left unsaid.

“Can I ask you for a favour?”

“Anything.”

His instantly willingness has butterflies fluttering in your stomach, flitting and lightweight and undeniable.

“Can you help me get my dress off?”

When he smirks and goes to speak, you cut him off quickly.

“The zipper is stuck, Evan. Alice zipped me up this morning and I can’t undo it by myself.”

“This is a very long winded way of asking me to get you naked, gorgeous.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“If that’s what I wanted, I would just ask you, Buckley.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“Can you help me or not?”

He’s laughing, now, head thrown back with it. You hate the way it makes your heart sing.

“You coming in? Or you want me to undress you in the hallway?”

“You’re not undressing- fuck, you’re annoying.”

He’s still chuckling when he ushers you inside, shutting the door firmly behind you both.

“How do you wanna do this? Lights on, lights off? Curtains open or shut? Music? Candles?”

“Undo the damn zipper before I smack you.”

His laughter is rumbling through his chest, contagious in its nature. You want to be angry at him, but you just can’t seem to find it in you.

“Turn around, gorgeous.”

You spin to face the door, taking a deep breath as you anticipate his touch. You feel his warmth behind you, fingertips dancing over the skin of your shoulders before they reach your zipper. You can’t see him, but you can envisage the sight - his broad chest, thick neck, that beautiful sun kissed glow he’s developed over the past few days. Your lungs heave as the room suddenly feels like it’s a thousand degrees.

Buck slides the zipper down your back slowly, with intent and clarity. When it reaches your coccyx, he stops, resting his other hand on your hip to keep you steady.

You know you should step away, maybe throw him a quick thanks as you leave. But you do believe in fate, whether you like to admit it or not - and this entire night has felt like it’s been written in the stars.

Who are you to deny what the universe is so clearly gifting you?

You let your arms relax, sighing as the dress falls off of you and down to the floor. You step out of it, finally turning around to face Buck wearing nothing but your lacy white underwear. Surprisingly, there’s not an ounce of self consciousness in your body. The only thing you feel is desire.

For the first time since you’ve met him, Evan is completely speechless. His eyes rove over you, drinking in the sight in front of him, and he has to remind himself to breathe.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers in awe, fingers itching to reach out and touch you. “The minute I first saw you, I couldn’t believe you were real.”

“Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“Touch me, please.”

He grins, surging forward to cup your cheek with one hand while the other finds its home on your waist.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

“Finally.”

Buck leans in and presses his lips to yours surprisingly gently, testing the waters. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him as close as possible. He gets the message, reeling you in and deepening the kiss until you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

You’re being walked backwards and into the wall, pushed up against it for leverage. You hike a leg up over Bucks hip, groaning when the two of you grind forwards at the same time. His hands are everywhere - your face, tits, ass, waist - anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s not quite sure where he wants them, as if he’s worried he’ll leave somewhere untouched.

“You’re all I’ve thought about for two days,” he’s muttering into your neck as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin. “Driving me crazy.”

“I got myself off last night,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut when he sucks at the spot under your ear. “Thinking about you.”

“Fuck,” he moans, sinking down to his knees in front of you. “Tell me more. Please.”

It’s almost biblical, the sight of him. On his knees, practically begging, looking up at you like you’re his saviour. You’re dizzy with the power, blood rushing straight to your head.

Buck presses kisses into your leg, starting at your calves and moving up. When he gets to your inner thigh, he gazes up at you, pleading with his eyes for you to continue.

“Tell me more or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down and off.

“Okay, okay,” you pant, dropping your head back against the wall. “I, I- I couldn’t stop thinking about your arms in that shirt. The, the, the-”

You’re stuttering as he licks a stripe up your core, diving in with no hesitation. His fingers are gripping your thighs so hard you know it’ll bruise, and you can’t wait to feel the imprints in the morning.

“The?”

He’s pulled away to look at you with his brow quirked, dirty smirk etched across his face.

“Keep going, gorgeous. You haven’t even got to the good part. Neither of us have.”

You scoff at him in defiance, but slide your fingers into his hair to tug him back to where you want him.

“You looked so strong,” you continue, sighing when his tongue finds your core again. “Kept thinking about how easily you could throw me around. Pick me up, sit me on your face…”

Buck groans, all deep and rumbled, and the vibrations have your legs going weak. He doubles down on his efforts, slipping his tongue inside as his nose nudges your clit. He’s a fast learner, taking mental note of the spots and pressures that make your knees buckle.

“Keep going,” he mumbles into your core.

“You keep going,” you retort, pulling at his hair.

He chuckles but obliges your request, sucking your clit into his mouth with purpose. You’re shaking, holding onto him for dear life as you reach your climax. The moan you let out is borderline pornographic, and it has Buck palming himself over his suit trousers with a groan.

“Fuck, Evan,” you pant, chest heaving as you slump into the wall. “You need to grab me before I collapse. My legs are jelly.”

Laughing as he does it, he stands up and wraps his arms around your middle, holding you against him as tightly as he can.

“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“Better than ever.”

He rests his lips on your forehead, both of you breathing each other in for a moment.

“Can’t believe you were right across the hallway from me, trying to be quiet while you were getting yourself off,” he murmurs, fingers running up and down your back. “You should have come over here. I would have helped you.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you tease, cupping his face in your hands. “I was still acting like I didn’t wanna rip your clothes off back then.”

“Knew you’d crack eventually,” he winks, grinning when you laugh.

You pull him into you for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, clearly telling him exactly what you want.

“You gonna fuck me, Evan? Or are we just gonna stand here all night?”

He shakes his head with a smirk before throwing you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce back off. As he starts to crawl over to you, you stop him with a foot on his chest.

“Nuh uh. You’re wearing too many clothes. Strip, Buckley.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He’s standing up immediately, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off in one fell swoop. His boxers are next, leaving him stood bare and beautiful in front of you.

“Fuck. You’re not real,” you breathe out, eyes dancing over him.

“Oh I am so real,” he’s reassuring, situating himself on top of you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down so you can grind your hips into his.

“I’ve been waiting two days for this,” you murmur into his lips. “Make it worth my while, please.”

“Careful what you wish for,” he teases, kissing you again with such a force that you’re dizzy.

Buck sucks a bruise into your collarbone, licking a stripe up your sternum and tasting the salt that sits on your skin. Your patience is wearing thinner and thinner, anticipation bubbling up in your veins.

“How’d you want it?” he whispers into your ear.

“Just- deep. Wanna feel you for the rest of the weekend.”

He groans, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.

“Anything you want, gorgeous. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything in the world.”

His lust drunk rambling makes you giggle, wiggling your hips into his to hopefully hurry him up. You tug at his hair, pulling his face so it’s level with yours.

“Now, Evan. Can’t wait any longer. Please.”

“Fuck. You’re so pretty when you beg.”

He lines himself up, pressing his forehead to yours as the two of you connect. He’s big and he’s stretching you out just right and you think you might have died and gone to heaven. You both groan, panting into each others mouths.

“Fuck, baby. It’s like you were made for me.”

The baby sends warmth running through both your core and your heart, all the signals setting your nervous system on fire.

“Please,” you whimper, kissing him with desperation as you tangle your fingers in his curls and pull. “Please, Evan.”

“I’ve got you,” he’s mumbling, pulling his hips back and sliding them forwards with clear intent.

Reaching up beside your head, Buck pulls a pillow down and situates it under your hips, putting you where he wants you.

“Want you to feel me as deep as possible,” he murmurs, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. “Won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You can only moan at the promise, praying he delivers. There’s a shiny sheen of sweat covering his sun kissed skin, making him glow in the moonlight like some sort of angel. Sent just for you.

Buck sets a steady rhythm, not too fast but just fast enough. He clearly knows what he’s doing, and you ignore the pang of jealousy in your chest at the idea of him with another woman, even in the past.

Now that you’ve had a taste of this, you don’t want to let it go.

He’s pressing kisses onto whatever skin he can reach - your neck, your collarbone, underneath your ear. His hips never cease, determined to get you both to where you need to be. When he hitches one of your legs over his waist, you can’t help but drop your head back, eyes fluttering shut at the new angle.

He tilts his hips upwards, and hits a spot that has you keening. Speech has left you, and all you can do now is take it like you were made for it.

“Right there? Yeah? That’s it, isn’t it?”

You nod frantically, sucking in a shuddering breath like you’ve been under water. Your legs have started to shake, and Buck’s grinning when he thinks about how far he can push you before you’re at your limit.

“Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me.”

You’re so close you can taste it, desperate to find this release that’s been building for the last forty eight hours. When Buck moves his hand from your hip to your throat and squeezes just slightly, you snap.

You’re coming with a breathless moan, back arching into him to plaster your fronts together.

“Shit, you look so beautiful when you come. Jesus.”

You manage a soft smile, looking up at him to see those bright eyes staring into yours. He looks entranced, as if he’s staring at a piece in an art gallery. You swipe his hair back from his sweaty forehead, teasing your thumb across his bottom lip. When he sucks it into his mouth, your jaw drops open, mind foggy with arousal.

“Think you can give me another one? Let me see you come all pretty again?” he asks around your digit, tongue laving over your skin.

“Mhmm,” you’re agreeing before you can even process it, eager to please.

“That’s my girl.”

He moves your fingers from his mouth back into his hair as his find your throat once more, applying a little pressure. His hips pick up their pace, faster and harder than before. He’s fucking you into the mattress, strong arms keeping you from sliding off the bed.

He looks breathtaking, on top of you like this. He’s so broad, towering over you like he’ll shield you from the entire world if he has to. It feels like it’s just the two of you in the whole universe, unbothered by anything or anyone else.

“Buck- I… I-”

“I know, baby. Can feel it. Atta girl.”

You pull him down to kiss you as you reach your third climax of the night, arms wrapping around his neck so every inch of you is pressed together.

“There we go, good girl. That’s it, yeah. It’s yours, baby. It’s all yours.”

Buck finally finds his release, triggered by yours. His head drops into your neck, his frantic breath tickling your skin. You murmur sweet nothings into his ear, talking him through it as he shudders and shakes. Eventually, he collapses completely onto you, body weight pinning you down.

You’re both heaving for air, lungs burning as you try to regain an ounce of composure.

He murmurs something into your shoulder, the vibrations of it rumbling through your bones.

“Hmm?”

“You called me Buck.”

A breathless laugh escapes you, silvery and melodic.

“I’ve been trying not to for two days.”

“I know. You thought you were making a point.”

“I was making a point.”

“Sure, honey. Sure.”

“I hate you,” you grumble, but you can’t wipe the grin off your face. “I also hate that we’ve just made Lucy and Danny the happiest people ever.”

“Oh, shit. I hate it when they’re right.”

He pulls his head from your neck to look at you, resting his cheek against your chest so he can gaze up and into your eyes.

“I’m sure we can keep this a secret for a little while.”

“Yeah… we can’t.”

You quirk your brow at him in a silent question.

“I told Danny I was gonna marry you the minute you walked into the rehearsal dinner in that red dress. Can’t hide how I feel about you, gorgeous. It’s physically impossible.”

You can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp.

“Take me on a date first. Then we’ll talk about marriage, okay?”

“You did say forever, earlier.”

“That I did. Maybe my heart knew something my brain didn’t.”

Buck grins up at you, all blinding and giddy.

“The best man and the maid of honour, huh?”

“That old cliche,” you chuckle. “We weren’t the first, and we won’t be the last.”

“You’ll be my last, gorgeous.”

“Real smooth, Buck. Real smooth.”

“Buck,” he whispers, half in amusement, half in awe.

He could get used to this. You both could.

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