#it just creates such cosy atmosphere | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mortallydeepestobservation · 19 days ago

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Perfect plan -2-

Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: friends to lovers, friends with benefits? (But the benefit is a baby); crack, a smidge of angst, smut, fluff, happy ending. Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings: mentions of cheating and ‘being the other woman’ (past relationship), reader works at a hospital, Namjoon is just an absolute sweetheart in this, cursing, multiple sex scenes, dirty talking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, just a smidge of size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, intensive orgasms, Namjoon tells you to “Relax, woman” before eating you out, lovemaking, and a quick scene of pregananat sex. Word count: somewhere around 16k. Author's note: Here we gooo, part 2 and the finale. Hope you enjoy.✨✨ and if you do, do not hesitate to comment (let's be friends). Tell me what you liked, what you didn't. I'm writing again after a really long time and could use some feedback. (and friends lol) I stole the name Cosmo from “Castle”- (an oldish detective/crime serries I used to love, and I always found it so funny naming a kid Cosmo that I just couldn’t help myself.) Thank you @callmenoona25 for being my trusted beta reader. You’re the best! ✨ part 1: here

Normally, you weren’t one to brag. However, when it came to your packing techniques, no one could compete. You prided yourself on your ability to fit everything you needed into a single suitcase, neatly organized and perfectly folded. Never went over the set limit, even by a gram. You even made sure to leave room for any souvenirs you might pick up along the way, maximizing both space and efficiency.

As you laid out your essentials, you felt a sense of satisfaction. Each outfit was carefully chosen for its versatility, from causal daytime to polished evening. The thrill of the trip only adding to your excitement as you zipped up your suitcase, ready for whatever awaited you in Singapore.

You met Namjoon at the airport, his big bright smile making your heart race when he collected your hand in his, leading you across the airport with familiarity.

The flight was smooth, filled with laughter and light conversation, and before you knew it, you were landing in Changi airport.

The vibrant city welcomed you with its dazzling skyline and warm, humid air. You could hardly contain your excitement as you stepped off the plane and into the bustling airport. Namjoon glanced at you; his eyes sparkling.

As you made your way to baggage claim, a sleek black SUV waited for you outside. The driver greeted you both with a warm smile and opened the door, and you slid into the plush back seat. Namjoon settled beside you, glancing out the window as the city zipped by.

“Look at all the lights! It’s beautiful,” he said, pointing out the iconic sights.

You nodded, mesmerized by the blend of modern architecture and lush greenery. The drive to your hotel felt like a preview of all the excitement that awaited you.

Once you arrived at the hotel, the luxurious lobby took your breath away, with its stunning decor and welcoming atmosphere.

Your room just as elegant, featuring floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The soft lighting and plush furniture created a cosy yet sophisticated atmosphere. You couldn’t help but smile as you set your bags down.

“Wow! This is incredible” you exclaimed, fully enchanted by the room.

There was a little loune area to your right, complete with mini bar and plush seating that invited relaxation. A small coffee table was set perfectly in the centre, and the soft glow of the lamps added to the cozy ambiance.

The open kitchen was opposite to the lounging area, sleek and modern, with gleaming countertops and high-end appliances.

“This place is amazing.” You beam “I didn’t expect it to be this nice.”

Namjoon chuckles, clearly pleased. “Yeah, one of the job perks.”

You moved to the kitchen, admiring the little details- the stylish bar stools, the complementary snacks neatly arranged on the counters. “This feels like a dream,” you murmured, almost in disbelief as you run your fingers down the counter.

“Just wait until you see the view from the balcony,” Namjoon said, walking over to the sliding door. He opened it, and a warm breeze flowed in, carrying the sounds of the vibrant city below.

You stepped outside, and your breath caught in your throat as you took in the stunning panorama. The skyline shimmered against the dusk sky, a blend of colours painting the horizon. “This is breathtaking!” you exclaimed, stepping closer to the railing. The warm breeze gently collecting your hair from over your shoulder.

Namjoon watches you, undeniable admiration written across his face. He opens his mouth to speak, but his phone beeps, cutting him off.

“Ah. I need to get ready. I have a meeting in half an hour.” He said, glancing down at the screen.

You turned back at him, a little pout on your lips, “Right, of course.”

He sighs, giving you an apologetic smile. “I’ll wrap it up as quickly as I can, then we can maybe go enjoy the city a bit.”

You nodded, but gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry love. I need to check in with the Dean of medicine either way. So, I’ll be stuck in a zoom meeting for the next few hours too.” You check your watch “And then the conference starts, and I want to make sure I snatch a goodie bag” you grin up at him, making him chuckle as he picks out his clothes from his suitcase.

“My little busy bee,” he winks your way before walking to the bathroom.

You smile at the affectionate nickname, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. As he closed the door, you took a moment to gather your thoughts, preparing for your own meetings. You settled at the small desk in the room, pulling out your laptop and opening all the necessary documents, ready to dive into work.

Namjoon walks out a few minutes later, wearing a tailored suit that made him look like he stepped right out of a billboard. The sharp lines accentuated his frame, and the soft fabric seemed to highlight the subtle tan he was sporting, giving him a warm, inviting glow.

“Oh wow,” you say, momentarily speechless as you took him in, “You look incredible.”

He grinned, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanour. “Thanks! Just wanted to make a good impression.”

“You definitely will,” you completely forgot about your work, staring at him unabashed. He adjusted his collar, and you noticed the way he carried himself with confidence, ready to take on the day. “Make sure no one falls in love with you.”

He laughs, a light blush creeping across his cheeks. “I can’t make any promises. But I’ll make sure to mention that I’m reserved.”

“Good!” you said, feeling a playful spark in the air. “You’d better.”

“Okay, I’ll be out for a while. Text me if you need anything.” he said, moving toward the door.

“Good luck with your meeting!” you called after him, watching as he stepped out, the door closing softly behind him

You took a deep breath, letting the moment linger, before forcing yourself to dive back into your task. You made sure to schedule and plan everything in advance so you could take this time off. You checked and double checked every detail, ensuring there were no loose ends.

You went through your notes, confirming appointments and reviewing the materials.

Yet, when the Dean logged on, everything seemed to fall apart. “I’m sorry, but there’s been a logistics misunderstanding.” He said, his voice tinged with frustration. “The materials you sent over didn’t reach the hospital committee in time, and now we’re facing delays for the budgeting conference too.”

Your heart sank as you listened, a wave of anxiety washing over you. “What does that mean for my presentation?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

“The committee is postponing the schedule. And now we’ll have to resubmit everything. Your slot might be pushed back or even cancelled.” He explained, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe the situation either. “That means that the budget meeting also gets postponed, and you know just how these jackals like to cut the budget when we delay by even a day.”

You felt your stomach drop. All the careful planning and scheduling, and now the opportunity was slipping through your fingers. “But I’ve prepared so much for this,” you protest your voice cracking softly.

“I understand.” He replied, his tone monotone. “We’ll do our best to rectify this. But it may take some time. I’ll keep you updated.” The dean rubbed his temples, clearly irritated.

As the meeting wrapped up, you closed your laptop with a heavy heart. You lean back in your chair, frustration boiling beneath the surface. But you pushed on, reminding yourself that you were in Singapore, and there were still opportunities ahead.

Future-you will simply have to pick up the pace when you return to the office.

When you glance at the clock again, panic sets in- you were running late for the conference. There wasn’t time to change into your planned outfit, so you quickly refreshed yourself, tossing your hair up in a ponytail and opting for a comfortable yet presentable look. You grabbed your bag and dashed out the door, determined not to let anything else derail your plans.

As you hurried down the stairs, the bustling streets greeted you with their vibrant energy. You hailed a taxi, but of course, the traffic seemed to intensify just when you were in a rush. Cars barely crawled along, and your heart raced as you checked the time repeatedly, feeling the minutes slip away.

“Come on,” you muttered to yourself, willing the driver to find an alternative route. The sight of the city blurred past you, but your focus remained fixed on the conference.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you arrived at the conference venue. You paid the driver and hurried out, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. The grand entrance loomed before you, and as you stepped inside, the bustling atmosphere enveloped you.

You could see attendees mingling. Doctors, residents and nurses walking around, exchanging ideas and business cards, and you felt a surge of determination. You might have faced a few setbacks, but you were here now, and you intended on making the most of it.

But when you arrived at your scheduled room, your heart sank. The meeting was more than halfway done, and the remainder of the presentation making very little sense to you, seeing as you completely missed the beginning. You tried to catch snippets of information, but it all felt disjointed, and the speakers were already moving on to complex concepts you struggled to grasp.

Frustration bubbled up again as you glanced around the room, hoping to find a familiar face or at least some insight into what you had missed.

Then you remembered the goodie bags you had heard about—swag filled with useful materials and promotional items. You felt a twinge of disappointment as you approached the table at the back, only to find it empty.

“Sorry, we ran out,” the staff member said apologetically.

Great. Just great.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on the remaining presentations, even if they felt like a blur. You tried to jot down key points, hoping to salvage something useful from the experience. But then you saw him walk on stage.

“Hello everybody, I am Doctor Seong-Min and I’m here today to talk to you about-”

But nothing registers. The sight of your ex triggers a wave of emotions you thought you buried long ago. The memory of the betrayal and heartbreak flood back, eclipsing everything else around you.

You struggled to concentrate as he spoke, his voice smooth and confident, like always, captivating the audience. But all you could think about was the bitterness you felt when you found out about his wife, the lies he told, and the way he casually moved on with his life while you were left picking up the pieces.

Frustration bubbled up inside you, mingling with the hurt that never fully faded. You worked so hard to move on. To establish yourself in your career, only to find yourself face-to-face with the man who caused you so much pain.

And then you caught sight of her- the beautiful trophy wife, her belly big and round as she looked up at her husband with uttermost admiration. The image twisted like a knife in your gut, and you felt like you might puke right there.

You glanced around the room, searching for a distraction, but nothing could pull your focus from the scene unfolding in front of you. You could hear Doctor Seong-Min speaking about his research, but the words felt distant, muffled by the pounding in your chest.

The applause that followed his presentation felt like a weight pressing down on you, suffocating and heavy. You fought to keep your composure, knowing you had to push through this moment. You wouldn’t let him have that power over you anymore.

But then the dick has the audacity to walk over to you, disgusting smirk on his lips as he approached with his wife.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said, feigning surprise. The arrogance in his voice made your skin crawl. His wife stood beside him, radiant and blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the air. You felt your stomach flip as they neared.

“Hello,” you managed, forcing a smile that felt like it might crack your face.

Seong-Min leaned in slightly, the confidence radiating off him. “Enjoying the conference? We’ve been hard at work on this project,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the crowd.

You glanced at his wife, who was looking up at him with adoration, completely oblivious to the tension. “I’m sure it’s great,” you replied coolly, your heart racing.

“Still in the medical field, I see?” he asked, a condescending edge to his voice.

You could feel your frustration boiling beneath the surface, old wounds reopening. “Yes, and making strides.” you said, your tone sharper than intended.

His wife shifted slightly, glancing between you and her husband, confusion written on her face as she gently stroked her bump. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, extending a hand. You shook it, forcing politeness.

“Likewise.” you managed, though the word tasted bitter on your tongue.

Seong-Min flashed that infuriating smirk again. “We should catch up sometimes.” he said, as if you shared some fond memories rather than a history of betrayal. Like the poor woman he cheated on wasn’t standing right there.

“Not interested.” you replied, a bit too quickly.

“Well, enjoy the rest of the conference.” he said, his tone dismissive as he turned away with his wife, who seemed oblivious to the tension.

You felt like the last of your resolve melted away.

It wasn’t fair.

Why does he get to have what you want? Why does he get to enjoy a loving relationship and a baby while you struggle with heartbreak and disappointment? The unfairness stung like a sharp wound, twisting in your chest.

You watched them walk away, his arm wrapped around her waist, the image of happiness that felt like a cruel joke. It brought back memories of the plans that you once had, the dreams you built, all shattered when you found that wedding band hidden in his desk.

You clenched your fists, grounding yourself in the present. This wasn’t who you were anymore; you moved on.

Or, at least, you thought you had.

Nothing from the conference sticks to you afterwards. A big dark cloud overshadowing the rest of the day, until you reach the hotel room.

You weren’t one to give into your emotions, but now, you needed something, anything to distract you from the building rage and emotion that stirred in your chest. You grabbed one of the bottles of Hennessy from the bar and poured yourself a generous glass. The rich amber liquid shimmering in the light, and you hoped it would help dull the ache in your chest. You took a sip, the warmth spreading through you, and you leaned against the cool counter.

As you stood there, you couldn’t shake the frustration that lived beneath the surface of your composed image. You hated feeling like this- caught between anger and sadness. You took another sip, letting the burn wash away any remnants of your earlier encounter.

Slowly, you let yourself slide to the floor, the tears you fought against all day finally breaking free, cascading down your cheeks in hot, unrestrained waves. You felt like a child again, overwhelmed by emotions that were too big to contain. The frustration, the hurt, the unfairness, the longing, all spilled out in chocked sobs.

Each little cry pulled at the heaviness that settled over your chest. You wrapped your arms around your knees, finding solace in the smallness of your position, trying to make sense of everything that unfolded these past few weeks.

Just then, you heard Namjoon’s footsteps approaching. His concern was palpable as he knelt beside you, his presence grounding as he pulled you in his arms. “Hey, hey,” he said softly, his voice laced with warmth that made it harder to hold back your tears.

You turned your gaze away, the world around you blurring through your tears. He didn’t push you to explain, he simply sat there with you, offering you the safe space you needed to be vulnerable.

Slowly, the intensity if your emotions began to ease. You leaned your head against his shoulder, grateful and a bit frustrated that he was there. Grateful for his unwavering presence, frustrated with yourself for letting your feelings spill over.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you admitted quietly.

Namjoon wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, “You don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling,” he reassured, his voice steady and soothing.

“It’s not fair.” you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Why does he get to have everything I wanted? It’s not fair.”

Namjoon quickly understood what you were talking about, tightening his grip around you. “I know it hurts. It’s fucked up to see someone who hurt you move on so easily while you’re left grappling with everything.”

“His wife is pregnant, Namjoon!” you start crying again, the weight of the reality crashing down on you. “It just feels like I’m stuck, and he’s living this perfect life.”

He tiled your chin gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re not stuck. You’re on your own path, and it’s okay to take the time you need to heal. You deserve happiness too.”

The sincerity in his eyes made your heart swell, your bottom lip quivering as your throat tightened once more. You wanted to believe him, but the twinge of comparison felt so heavy. “It just hurts so much. I thought I was over this”

Namjoon shook his head, brushing a stray tear with his thumb. “Healing isn’t linear. It’s okay to have a few setbacks. I’m right here for you.”

The warmth of his presence began to ease the ache in your chest. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself in the moment. “Thank you,” you whispered, the sincerity of your gratitude palpable.

“Always,” he replied softly, holding you tighter. “Now come on, let me take care of you tonight.”

You sniffle, whipping your nose with the back of your hand. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I know, but I want to. Just let me help,” he said, his tone firm yet gentle.

You hesitated, but the sincerity in his eyes made it hard to resist. “Okay.” you finally agreed, feeling relief and vulnerability wash over you.

“Good,” he smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Let’s order some food, and we can watch a movie, something to make you laugh while I draw you a bath.” He helps you up, a small smile managing to form on your lips when you let yourself lean into his warmth.

“Sounds perfect.”

As he set up the movie, you felt the burden on your shoulders start to lift. There was something comforting about seeing him move around the room with such confidence. He ordered room service, even adding a bottle of wine to the mix, which you gladly shared with him over dinner.

Once the bath was ready, he returned to you with a warm smile. “Everything’s ready.”

You look up at him, a tiny smile playing on your lips. “You really don’t have to do all this,” you said, but he just shrugged it off.

“Let me pamper you a little.”

With a laugh, you let him take your hand, “Alright. I accept.”

He lifted you effortlessly into his arms, and you give a small gasp of surprise. “What are you doing?” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Carrying you to the bath. It’s part of the pampering,” he said, his tone playful.

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling both giddy and relaxed as he walked you to the bathroom. The soft glow of candles flickered around the tub, the warm water inviting you in.

“Okay, okay, you can put me down now.” you said, and he gently lowered you to your feet, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment longer.

He stepped back, watching you with a soft smile as you took in the scene. “Enjoy, and I’ll be right here.” he promised, before stepping out to give you some privacy.

As you sank into the warm water, the soothing heat enveloped you, dissolving any lingering stress from earlier. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth seep into your muscles, feeling the tightness begin to fade. After a while, you hear the door open.

“Can I come in?”

You chuckle at the absurdity of his question, “Yes,” you smile when you see him peeking his head around the door.

“How’s the bath?” he asked, his voice light and teasing.

“Perfect,” you smile at him “You should join me.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by the suggestion. “Tempting, but I think I’ll stick to being your attendant for now.”

You laugh, splashing a little water in his direction. “You’re missing out.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive.” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “But I did bring you your wine glass. I figured you might want something to enjoy while you soak.” He said, setting it down on the edge of the tub.

“That’s perfect, thank you!” You reach for the glass, taking a long sip, savouring the flavours as they wash over your tongue.

Namjoon sat on the edge of the tub, his expression turning earnest “You know, I’m really glad we’re here together,” he said, watching you. “You deserve this time to unwind.”

You meet his gaze, feeling a warmth spread in your chest, “I didn’t think I needed it until today.” You admitted. “But this is really nice. Thank you.”

“I’m just glad I could be here for you. You’ve been carrying so much,” his look is so soft as he watches you “It’s okay to take a break.”

You took another sip of wine, letting the warmth of his words settle in your belly.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry we couldn’t go out.” You place your hand on his thigh, apologizing as you look up to meet his eyes.

“It’s really no problem.” He leans closer, his voice lowering “Just let me know if you need anything else.”

With a smile, you take another sip of your glass, feeing a sense of comfort envelop you, “For now, this is perfect. Just being here with you.”

You both settled into a comfortable silence, the warm water wrapping around you and melting away the tension in your muscles. However, after some time, the water began to cool. You took one last sip of your wine, savouring it, before setting the glass down on the edge of the tub.

“Joon,” you said, glancing over at him, “I think I’m ready to get out now.”

“Need help?” he asked, his tone shifting to one of concern.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I think I can manage, but could you hand me a towel?”

“Sure thing.” He stood up, grabbing a fluffy towel from the rack and handing it to you. “Here you go.”

You took the towel, feeling its softness against your skin. As you carefully stood up, the cool air brushed over you, sending a little shiver down your spine. You wrapped the towel around yourself, feeling a mix of warmth and comfort.

“Thanks, love.” You said, stepping out of the tub and onto the plush rug.

He watched you with a soft smile, “Any time, baby.” He carefully reaches out for you, pulling you into his arms, and you melt into him, the warmth of his embrace wrapping around you like a blanket.

You move your hands down his back, pulling back to meet his gaze, a smile creeping on your face. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, let’s make the rest of the evening just as cozy.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he easily scooped you up, and carried you to the bed with effortless grace. You laughed in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck as he settles you down on the pillows.

“See? Cozy already.” He said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

You giggle, pulling him closer until your lips slot together, his tongue quickly working your mouth open, tasting the lingering sweetness from the wine on your lips.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over your skin as you tangle your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and as you wrapped your legs around him, you sensed his heart racing in perfect harmony with yours. He trailed kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake, his hands exploring your body with gentle reverence.

With each touch, every lingering kiss against your skin, you feel yourself growing more aroused, your breath hitching in your throat as the heat between you quickly intensified.

You tugged at his shirt, fumbling to unbutton it, but Namjoon stopped you, instead gathering your hands in his and pinning them above your head.

“Take it easy,” He whispered against your jaw, kissing it softly, “We have all the time in the world.” His lips met yours again, and you could feel his harness press against you, as if testing you. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his but he held you pinned to the bed until you huffed and gave up, pleading him with your eyes.

“Keep your hands there for me.”

Only when he saw you obey did Namjoon’s hands begin to roam your body again, pulling away your towel and throwing it somewhere over his shoulder. He traced the curve of your waist, the dip of your hips and the swell of your breasts. His fingers dancing along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake and eliciting soft gasps from your lips.

You moaned when he took a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before giving it a gentle bite, while squeezing your other breast with his hand, your peaked nipple hard against his palm. The sensation made you jolt, and you heard him chuckle against your skin, urging you to push further into his touch.

As his mouth worshipped your breasts, his hand slid between your legs, fingers finding you slick with desire. Instinctively, your hips bucked against his hand, a rush of need flooding your senses as he explored your wetness slowly.

“That’s my good girl.” He murmured, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he trailed a finger along your folds. You shivered at the sensation, gasping as he flicked your clit.

“Namjoon…”

Without warning, he slipped a finger inside, then another, curling them in a way that made your stomach flutter with delight. He applied just the right amount of pressure, his fingers pumping in and out of you in a maddening rhythm that had you squirming with pleasure.

Once again, his is mouth found your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as his tongue swirled around the hard peak. You moan, your fingers clenching the sheets as he continued to explore your body with languid ease.

Suddenly, he struck that sweet spot that made your toes curl and your back arch off the bed. A long, drawn-out moan escaped your lips, a clear sign that he had found the place that sends waves of ecstasy coursing through you.

“Ah, there it is,” Namjoon said with a satisfied smirk, his gaze fixed on you as you writhe beneath him, breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. His fingers hit that spot again, each stroke sending waves of pleasure rippling through you, building you higher and higher until you feel like you're teetering on the edge.

Your release hovers just out of reach, intensifying with every pulse of his hand, each scissor of his fingers within you. He maintains a steady rhythm, each move precise, the slick sound mingling with your soft, breathless pleas.

When his thumb circles your clit, the final surge tips you over the edge. Your body arches, surrendering fully as ecstasy crashes over you in waves, leaving you weak and trembling.

Namjoon holds you close as he moves up, pressing a soft kiss against your temple. “That’s it baby, cum on my fingers.” His hand slows, coaxing every last tremor from you until, with a soft gasp, you weakly push him away, spent and breathless in his embrace.

A soft moan leaves your lips, eyes fluttering shut as you watch him draw his fingers from you and bring them to his mouth. His gaze holds yours, intense and unwavering as he slips his fingers past his lips, his tongue cleaning them completely, savouring the taste of you with a hum of satisfaction. The sight alone sends a fresh shiver down your spine, every nerve still tingling.

He was still fully dressed, looking so fucking handsome in his suit sans the overcoat. And there you were, flushed, completely bare and fucked out just from his fingers.

But then he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft, tender kiss, his mouth then trailing down your neck and collarbones, leaving a new path of warmth across your skin. He moves lower, pressing kisses along your chest until he settles on his knees besides the bed, looking up at you with an intensity that steals your breath away.

That image of him, gaze smouldering and devoted, is one that will haunt you for the rest of your life.

With a gentle pull, he drags you closer to the edge of the bed, your core exposed to him. His hands glide up your legs, spreading them further apart as he goes, his eyes locked on yours as he leans forward, his beath hot against your skin.

You quickly sit up on your elbows, a hand reaching out as you speak, “You don’t have to.”

“Will you just relax woman?” Namjoon chuckles, gently pressing down on your belly in order to make you lie back down. “I want to.”

Before you could respond, he leans in, nipping at your thigh with a mischievous grin, then quickly soothes the bite with a warm flick of his tongue. The mix of pleasure and unexpected sweetness has you melting back into the mattress.

“You just enjoy.” he murmured, his fingers gently parting you folds “And let me take care of you.”

He looks up at you one more time, his eyes dark with desire and need. Slowly, he lowers his mouth to your clit, his lips soft and warm as they press against your sensitive skin. You let out a loud moan, feeling the pleasure shoot straight to your core, amplifying the lingering shockwave of your last climax, making every touch feel unbearably intense. His lips and tongue dance against your folds, gently parting you with his fingers as he drags a slow, thick line from your entrance to your clit.

“Namjoon, please.” You cry, your voice breathless, not even sure what you’re asking for. But he knows exactly what you need.

He responds with a gentle, rhythmic suction, mixed with teasing nips that made you gasp, his tongue darting in and out of your folds, exploring until you’re dizzy with pleasure. You can feel your body tensing up again, and when you make a move to close your legs, his arms hook around your thighs, keeping you spread and vulnerable, completely at his mercy.

Namjoon plunges his tongue deep inside you, his lips sealing around your entrance as he drinks you in, savouring every drop. He laps at your wetness, drawing you into further his mouth, his movements slow and indulgent, as through he wants to taste every single part of you.

The pleasure is too intense, it’s overwhelming, leaving you helpless as you mewl, thrash around and buck against his mouth. Your orgasm building deep within. But he doesn’t let up; if anything, his efforts double, his mouth and tongue moving with relentless intent, devouring you completely. Your hands tangle in his hair, your earlier protests forgotten as you lose yourself in the sensations he’s pulling from you.

“God, Namjoon, baby, you feel so good,” you breathe, your mind barely processing the confessions that tumble from your lips. “God, your mouth is divine, baby.”

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You feel him moan and groan against your core and your orgasm crashes through you. You cry out his name, feeling every single nerve in your body ignite in surges of bliss. His arms stay wrapped firmly around you, holding you steady as he shows no signs of stopping his abuse of your poor sensitive clit, drinking your release, drawing out every last tremor as you tremble, weak and utterly spent in his arms.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes are glazed over with pleasure, his chin glistening with the evidence of your climax. You bite back a moan as he runs his tongue over his lips, savouring every last drop.

“You’re like heaven baby,” he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, consuming kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, the blend of sensation only heightening your arousal further as his tongue moves against yours.

“Joonie, just fuck me.” You mumble in between kisses, your voice edged with desperation, aching for him to fill you up and ease the ache that he had been building inside of you. But he remains maddeningly patient, his hands moving casually over your skin, teasing and touching every inch of skin as though committing each detail to memory.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally breaks away and stands, leaving you longing for his warmth. His eyes never leave yours as he starts to undress, each movement slow and deliberate, drawing out the anticipation. His fingers work through each button of his shirt with practiced ease, revealing his skin inch by inch, his expression heavy with intent. When his shirt slides off, your eyes trace over the lean muscles of his chest and the sculpted lines of his torso, drinking in the sight of him.

You urgently motion for him to continue, but he only smirks, clearly savouring your impatience. You huff in frustration and sink back onto the mattress. Despite the growing ache within you, you’re utterly mesmerized by the way he moves, completely caught up in every motion as he lets your anticipation build with each lingering moment, before he finally reaches for his belt.

With a quiet clink, he unfastens it, his eyes watching your reaction as he lets it slide free with maddening slowness. Your breath catches, heart pounding as he unzips his pants, pushing them down just enough to reveal the hard lines of his hips. He steps out of his clothing, completely bare now, standing before you with an air of confident vulnerability that leaves you spellbound.

For a moment, he pauses, letting you drink in every detail —the muscles of his chest, the strength in his frame, his ridable thighs and his hard cock pressed against his stomach, the tip glistening with precum.

“Do you like what you see?” he asks, his voice low and teasing, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. The challenge in his tone ignites a thrill within you, and you nod, your mouth suddenly dry with desire.

Slowly, he steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours and he climbs on top of you, his body warm and solid as he positions himself between your legs.

“I can be on top.” You declare, suddenly finding your voice, grabbing his shoulders and trying to pull him down. But once again, Namjoon stops you.

“I’ve got this, you relax.” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as he eases you from your tensed position, allowing him to mould you as he pleases. His hands find your ass, squeezing it tightly as he positions you exactly how he wants.

A broken moan escapes your lips as he presses his erection against your aching pussy, the head of his cock catching against your clit, collecting your wetness. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer still, craving the connection between you.

Slowly, he enters you, filling you up in a way that takes your breath away. “Ah baby, so tight for me.” He moans against your neck, his voice thick with desire as he stretches you, despite all the foreplay. Namjoon pauses once he’s fully inside, relishing in the sensation until you begin to claw at his skin, urging him to move.

“God Namjoon, please, move. Please.” You beg, desperation flooding your voice and easing any shame you might have ever felt when it came to begging a man in bed. Yet here you were, the need in your tone was unmistakable, breaking you softly as you urged him to take action. “Please, my love.”

And obediently, Namjoon begins to move, pulling out and thrusting back into you with a steady rhythm. But with each movement, you can sense a subtle adjustment in his hips, as if he's searching for something deeper. You give him a confused look, ready to beg again, when suddenly he hits your g-spot, making you scream in pleasure.

“There we go,” he looks so proud of himself as he locks in, his hips thrusting against yours with expert precision now, in a rhythm that has you spiralling into ecstasy.

Yet, something feels different — like there’s something more here than just another steamy ‘baby-making’ session.

There is no urgency in his movements, no hurried pace. This feels more like lovemaking, like a slow and sensual dance that allows him to explore every inch of you as you surrender yourself completely to him. His lips and hands tease you constantly, leaving trails of electricity pulsing through your body as his hips maintain a steady rhythm. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as he worships you, revelling in the pleasure he gives you with each stroke of his cock.

As the tension builds within you, your breath hitches, and you feel yourself getting closer, his moans against your skin igniting the fire that threatens to consume you whole.

“Namjoon, I’m close.” You barely manage to get the words out, your voice trembling, as tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity building within.

“Come for me, babygirl. Let go,” He whisperers in your ear, “I’ve got you.” And you cry out, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly, your nails dragging down his back as you urge him on.

In response, he thrusts harder, faster, driving you to the brink of pleasure until, with a final push, he sends you over the edge. You scream out as your orgasm washes over you, your body shaking with the force of your release. Namjoon follows soon after, his body tensing, then shuddering as he empties himself inside of you, filling you to the brim. He gives a few final, slow trusts, the wet, slick sounds echoing softly around you.

He collapses on top of you, skin warm and damp, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both savour the lingering warmth of your lovemaking, riding the waves of pleasure as you come down from the high together.

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

“What the fuck are you reading?” Yoongi’s eyes are wide with shock as he looks over at Namjoon, who is sitting across from him at the conference table.

“Uhm-” Namjoon glances at the cover of the book, quickly realizing his mistake “What to expect when you’re expecting” he mumbles, his face turning a deep shade of red.

“Should I even ask?”

“It would be easier for the both of us if you don’t.” Namjoon replies, avoiding eye contact, his embarrassment palpable.

Yoongi smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Now I’m definitely curious. Are congratulations in order?”

Namjoon lets out a groan, rubbing the back of his neck “It’s not what you think.”

Yoongi chuckles, clearly enjoying Namjoon’s discomfort. “Oh really? So, you’re just doing some light reading on pregnancy for fun?”

“More like… research,” Namjoon stammers, his cheeks still flushed. “For a friend. Just a friend.”

“Right,” Yoongi replies, leaning in with a teasing glint in his eye. “So, I get it that this weird plan of yours worked?”

“She’s not expecting yet,” Namjoon insists, a bit too defensively, before confusion strikes him. “At least, I think. I tend to get lost when it comes to the logistics.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. He lets the silence stretch, watching as Namjoon grows increasingly uncomfortable. Despite knowing he should stop talking, there’s something about Yoongi’s gaze that makes him continue.

“It’s complicated, okay? She has everything figured out, and I thought I should probably read up on it instead of sounding completely clueless.”

“Sounds like you’re in deeper than you think.” Yoongi laughs, his smirk widening. “Next thing you know, you’ll be attending prenatal classes with her.”

“Not a chance!” Namjoon shoots back, his tone half-serious and half-joking. “I just wanted to be a good friend. I didn’t sign up for this!”

Yoongi leans back, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the banter. “Come on, admit it. You’re secretly excited about it.”

“Maybe I am!” Namjoon bursts out, then quickly lowers his voice, glancing around the conference room as if expecting someone to overhear. “But it’s not about me. It’s about her.”

“Didn’t she say she wants to be a single parent?” Yoongi asks, raising an eyebrow.

Namjoon nods, his expression turning serious for a moment.

“I’m not going to interfere.” Namjoon says, shoving the book at the bottom of his backpack. “I just want to help.”

“You really like ‘helping’ her.” The teasing edge in Yoongi’s voice makes it clear this won’t end well for Namjoon, yet he can’t seem to keep his mouth shut.

“Don’t phrase it like that.” Namjoon’s face turns an even deeper shade of red.

Yoongi chuckles, clearly enjoying the moment “Come on, it’s just us here. You can admit it. You’re totally invested.”

Namjoon shakes his head, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. “I’m just trying to be supportive, okay? She’s going through a lot, and I need to be there for her.”

“Supportive or not, sounds like there are more emotions involved than the ‘plan’ initially asked for.”

Namjoon groans, burying his face in his hands. “Can we please drop this?”

“Relax, your secret’s safe with me.” Yoongi says, finally easing up a bit. “But you owe me a favour for this.”

“What kind of favour?”

“Just remember who kept your secret, and maybe take me to lunch next week?”

Namjoon shakes his head, chuckling. “Fine, you’ve got yourself a deal. But no more pregnancy talks.”

“Deal.” Yoongi nods, still grinning. “But maybe don’t bring any more of those books to work. It’s not a good look.”

“Good idea.” Namjoon says, leaning back in his chair as the meeting starts to take shape.

As the discussions unfold, Namjoon finds himself glancing at the clock, his mind wandering to thoughts of you and the city exploring he’s been dreaming about. The day drags on with endless presentations and updates, and he can’t shake the desire to escape the conference room.

Finally, as the last agenda item wraps up, he feels a wave of relief wash over him, the long day is finally over. He stands up, stretching his arms above his head and quickly shoots you a text message.

Joonie 🎍🫀: Hey love. I’m done for the day. How about we grab dinner and check out the Gardens by the Bay? We can catch the skyline at night too! Baby-momma 💕: Sounds wonderful! Can’t wait to see the skyline!

Namjoon smiles at your reply, feeling a rush of excitement.

Joonie 🎍🫀: Great. I’ll meet you at the hotel in 20. Wear something red for me 😏 Baby-momma 💕: See you then! 🥰

He quickly gathers his things and heads out, a bounce in his step as he thinks about the evening ahead. The drive is quiet, but his mind races with possibilities. When he arrives at the hotel, he spots you waiting for him by the entrance, looking absolutely radiant in a black dress that perfectly accentuates your waist. The square neckline draws his gaze to the little mark he left just above your chest, making him smile wider.

“Hey there,” he says, a smile breaking across his face as he approaches, “You look amazing, even if it’s not red.”

You twirl playfully, your dress flowing around you. “I hope this is good enough.” you beam, your smile quickly turning into a teasing one as you take his hand and guide it to the strap of your dress. You lift it just enough to reveal a glimpse of red lace underneath. “The red is for later.”

Namjoon’s breath catches, his eyes widening with surprise and delight. “Well, now I’m even more excited for tonight.” he replies, eyes still glued to your chest.

You pull him closer, the energy between you sparking with anticipation. “Lead the way, baby.” you say, your voice playful and oh-so inviting.

He chuckles, feeling a rush of confidence as he guides you towards the exit. “I hope you’re ready for an adventure.” He teases, glancing down at your hand still intertwined with his.

The evening air is warm as you step outside, the city lights beginning to flickering to life around you.

You stop for dinner at the most charming little noodle shop, a hidden gem that Namjoon found online. And just like the reviews promised, the food was incredible.

After dinner, you head to the Gardens by the Bay, where the towering structures are beautifully illuminated against the night sky. As you stroll through the gardens, the sweet scent of flowers fills the air, and the sounds of the city fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

Namjoon leads you to a quiet spot overlooking the skyline. The city sprawls out before you, all the light shimmering like stars in the night sky.

“Wow.” you whisper, taking in the breathtaking view.

Namjoon leans closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. “It’s like a painting, isn’t it?” his arms wrap protectively around your waist, holding you close to his chest.

You nod, leaning into him, feeling safe and content as you stand together, soaking in the beauty of the moment. The skyline reflects in your eyes, but it’s the way he holds you close that makes everything feel so much more vibrant.

After a while, you feel his lips brush against your neck, softly kissing his way up to your ear. “Want to head back? I think I could use dessert after this.” He murmurs.

You giggle, nodding slowly and leaning into his touch. “Sounds good. I saw this little pastry shop near the hotel.”

“Not quite what I was suggesting.” he smirks against your skin and you feel a flush rising in your cheeks.

“Oh…” you reply, biting your lip to stifle a grin. “What did you have in mind?”

“Didn’t I tell you? You taste like heaven.”

Your heart races at his words, and you can’t help but smile back at him. “That sounds tempting.”

“Good.” He kisses your neck once more, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze as you begin to walk back towards the hotel.

As you stroll, the city lights twinkle above, creating a magical backdrop. The conversation flows effortlessly, laughter punctuating your words. Every shared glance feels charged with anticipation, heightening your senses and making the moment feel even more special.

When you finally reach the hotel, Namjoon keeps his word. Fucking you good and hard into the mattress, over the couch and pressed up against the window, overlooking the city as you come completely undone around his cock.

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

“Okay, since when does making a baby require you travel to Singapore?” Sumi looks at you, utterly bewildered.

The little coffee shop was cozy, its warm, pink ambiance wrapping around you like a comforting hug, chasing away the chill of a long workday. Aera suggested the place, and now, the three of you are huddled together at a small table, indulging in some much-needed girl talk.

You stare at the picturesque slice of sponge cake on your plate, next to the steaming cup of coffee you’ve been craving all day.

“I was sad, and he just did a nice thing for me.” you mumble between spoonfuls of cake.

“Wow. When I’m sad Jungkook just tells me to cheer up!” Aera replies, her eyes wide with disbelief, mirroring Sumi’s expression.

You chuckle a little, completely absorbed by the dessert.

“Seriously! How is that even fair?” Sumi adds, shaking her head. “You’ve got yourself a good one over there.”

You chuckle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth at their reactions. “It wasn’t like that. We just had a moment, you know?”

“Sure, a moment that requires international travel?” Aera teases, nudging you playfully.

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling “It’s not like that! He just helped me unwind.”

Sumi laughs, shaking her head. “This is a whole different kind of ‘helping’ you’ve got going on.”

You take a sip from your coffee, feeling flustered under their relentless stares. “Can we just enjoy our cakes without analyzing my life choices?”

“Never! This is so much better than cake!” Aera declares dramatically, making you all laugh. “Spill the tea, babe.”

“I would, but there’s no tea to spill.”

“You’re a lying liar.” Sumi smirks, “I think I speak for everyone at the table when I say, Namjoon was basically undressing you with his eyes the last time we were at Seokjin’s.”

You feel your cheeks heat up remembering that night- how intense his gaze felt, the way he pulled you into the spare bedroom and kissed you until you were breathless, leaving you both flustered and frustrated.

“What? No! He wasn’t.” you protest, though your voice lacks any conviction.

Aera leans in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, come on! You can’t tell me you didn’t feel that chemistry!”

You did feel it- The same way you felt him all the way back to your apartment.

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to deflect, “He was just being friendly!”

“Friendly? Please!” Sumi rolls her eyes. “He’s totally smitten.”

“I really don’t see it.” You confess, taking a cautious sip of your coffee to buy some time.

Aera raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, “Really? You think he spends that much time with you just because he’s being nice?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve always been close.” you reply, trying to sound more convincing that you feel. “It’s not like he’s making any moves.”

“My dude! You’ve been sleeping together for what? Three months? How is that not a move?” Sumi argues, quickly realizing her slip up.

“You’ve been what?!” Aera’s eyes blow wide, her mouth dropping open in shock.

Your face burns as you scramble for words. “Wait, wait, wait! It’s not like that!” you stammer, panic rising in your chest. “We’re not— I mean, we are. But it’s complicated!”

Sumi smirks, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

“Oh, it sounds pretty straightforward to me! You’ve been sharing a bed for months and you didn’t think to tell me?” Aera’s expression shifts through a whirlwind of emotions.

“It’s not something I just bring up!” you protest, trying to collect your thoughts. “He’s just helping me get pregnant. We’ve been navigating this… situation, and it just didn’t feel right to tell anyone.”

“I know because I came up with the idea!” Sumi beams, overly proud of herself.

Aera leans in closer, her curiosity piqued. “So, you really are sleeping with him? Like, romantically?”

“Only recently!” you admit, your heart racing. “And it’s still really new and confusing.”

“Confusing or not, this sounds like a plot twist waiting to happen.” Sumi laughs, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Aera’s eyes widen even further, and Sumi bursts into laughter. “Girl, you’re in deeper than you realize!”

“Can you keep your voice down?” you say, glancing around the cozy shop to make sure no one’s listening. “It’s not that simple!”

“But it sounds like it is!” Aera is shocked, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, what’s it like? I mean, are you two a thing now?”

You fidget with your cup. “No. Nothing like that. He’s just helping me get pregnant.”

Sumi raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Really? You think he’d go to all this trouble if he didn’t have feelings for you?”

You shake your head, trying to push the thought away. “I mean, he’s just being nice. He wants to help me, that’s all.”

Aera leans in closer, her curiosity growing. “But you like him, right? I mean, there has to be something more than just… helping.”

You feel your cheeks warm. “Of course I like him! But that doesn’t mean he feels the same way.”

“You need to tell him!” Aera urges, her excitement bubbling over. “You can’t just keep pretending it’s all casual.”

At that, you feel the bubble burst and reality crashes in. The consequences of your actions suddenly feel all too real.

How could you even bring it up with him?

Relationships always have a way of complicating things. Even if by some miracle, you two become a couple, it could easily spiral out of control. The thought of him potentially leaving your life is a risk you can’t bear.

After all, if this is a number’s game, 50% of marriages end in divorce. And the odds are far worse for dating.

“No. I’m fine as is.” you glance down at your coffee, stirring it absentmindedly. “This is just about the baby and nothing more.”

Sumi furrows her brow, unconvinced. “But what if it’s more for him? You could miss out on something special.”

“It’s safer this way.” You insist, though doubt creeps in your voice “I don’t want to complicate things.”

“Complications are already there.” Aera points out gently, “You’re both invested. Ignoring it won’t make it go away.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of their words settling heavily on your chest. “I want the baby. That’s my only focus right now.”

Sumi’s expression softens. “But what if you could have both? A baby and a relationship? Isn’t that worth exploring?”

The idea lingers, tempting yet terrifying. You want to believe that could happen, but the fear of risking everything holds you back. “I don’t want to lose what we have.”

Sumi leans in, her voice gentle but firm. “But what if there’s more to gain than just what you might lose? You both care about each other—why not see where that can take you?”

You chew your lip, caught between the fear of the unknown and the hope for something deeper. “I don’t want to push him away. If I tell him how I really feel, what if he doesn’t feel the same? It could ruin everything.”

Aera nods, understanding but not letting you off the hook. “But keeping it bottled up could ruin things too. You’re both navigating this together, right? Just talk to him.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I planned any of this!” you sigh, frustration creeping in. “I just wanted a baby. This was supposed to be a straightforward arrangement!”

“And sometimes the best things come from the unexpected,” Sumi counters, using her favourite line. “Look at how much you’ve already shared. Maybe it’s time to be honest about your feelings?”

You sit back in your chair, the weight of their words sinking in. What if this really could be something more? But then the fear rushes back in—what if it all falls apart?

“No. We have this arrangement, and it works.” You state firmly. “That’s where this conversation ends.”

Aera opens her mouth to respond, but Sumi places a calming hand on her arm. “Okay, we’ll drop it. We just want what’s best for you.” she says gently, her eyes still filled with concern.

“Yeah, I get it.” you reply, appreciating their support even as you feel the tension in the air. “I really do. But right now, I need to focus on the baby and what that means for me.”

Aera leans back, her expression softening. “Just promise us you’ll think about it. You deserve to be happy too, you know.”

“The plan makes me happy. Namjoon just isn’t part of it.”

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

The two lines stare innocently at you. The test waits patiently for you on your desk, and each time you walk by a new flutter of emotions washes over you.

You were pregnant. You had to be- You took five tests. They all came back positive.

You blink again at the small plastic device, feeling the reality of the situation settle in. Five tests, all confirming what you’ve been hoping and working for.

What now?

Sumi 🏥: Welcome to club knocked-up.

The phone buzzes, the message arriving alongside your blood work results. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you read Sumi’s message. Her humour cuts through the tension, and for a moment, you feel like you could float. Club knocked-up. It feels surreal, like stepping into a world you’ve only heard about from others.

You typed back quickly, your fingers dancing over the screen.

Idiot 🌺💫: Thank you, Sumi! Can’t believe this is happening.

The blood work is another confirmation. Your mind races with questions: What was the next step? How will you tell the others?

Sumi🏥: You’ve got this! We need to meet up and celebrate! Idiot 🌺💫: Yes! I’ll add it to my to-do list!! Sumi🏥: 🙄 🙄 🙄 Sumi🏥: I also pencilled in an appointment with Dr. Mi-Ja. Best Dr I know. (Even if she’s a stuck-up bitch at the watercooler). Idiot 🌺💫: Thank you. Love you 💕 Sumi🏥: Right. Sure. Just tell me if u want me to add Namjoon as a guest or nah. Idiot 🌺💫: Nah.

Three letters and a punctuation mark. That's all it took to tie up your resolve with a pretty bow of logic. He had done enough; you didn’t need to bring him into this any further. From now on, it would be just you.

The appointment comes as a welcomed relief. Dr. Mi-ja exuded kindness and experience, her calming presence putting you at ease. She laid out the next steps and the best options available, cementing that sense of control you’ve been longing for in this new chapter of your life.

The next few weeks rolled on by, the initial shock of the pregnancy transforming into an all-consuming obsession. Your agenda and calendar became constant companions, filled with notes and reminders. You dove headfirst into planning-diaper storage solutions, the perfect formula temperature, baby-proofing the rooms- each detail meticulously organized and perfectly planned.

But, as it turns out, you could factor in morning sickness as a part of the package, but you can’t really plan for it… some days you are perfectly fine, and others, you were completely sidelined, battling nausea while trying to tackle your growing to-do’s.

One minute you’re dreaming about baby names, and the next, you’re sprinting for the bathroom, feeling like your world is spinning.

Ginger tea and saltines became a new staple in your home. A makeshift remedy for the relentless waves of nausea. The mere scent of coffee knotted your stomach, an ironic twist for someone who once had more coffee than blood running through their veins.

But despite the discomfort, you kept life moving forward. Now more grateful than ever that you work in a hospital and have an arsenal of doctors on quick-dial for any inquiries you might meet along the way.

Still, Sumi was your constant support, always checking in and making sure you had everything you needed. Even when you insisted you were just fine, with your head in the toilet. “You can’t fool me.” she’d tease over the phone, her laughter lightening the mood just a smidge.

You only hope you manage to keep the contents of your stomach intact when Namjoon comes over with dinner. It was Sunday, and you hadn’t seen him since you got the results. The thought of facing him stirring a cocktail of nerves and excitement inside you. What would you say? What would he say? Would it be awkward?

As you tidied up your space, the familiar sound of a mommy-to-be audiobook filled the background, almost pulling you out of your deep thoughts. You move on to set the table, choosing instead to focus on the details: napkins folded neatly, an empty vase in the middle-since the smell of flowers made you sick-, plates arranged just-so, and a cushy ambiance created by the setting sun peeking through the sheer curtains.

You didn’t plan the sun. But it added a beautiful touch to the atmosphere, casting a golden hue over everything.

The sound of the key in the lock sends your heart racing. You take a big breath, steeling yourself as Namjoon enters, a big smile on his face and a bag of take-out in his hands.

“Hey! I missed you!” he said, stepping inside and wrapping you in a tight embrace, his lips sweetly meeting yours for a quick kiss.

The warm scent of bulgogi drifted through the air, making your stomach rumble-despite your best efforts to quell the impending nausea.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” he murmurs in your hair, making your stomach twist again, only this time with guilt. His warmth surrounds you, but the reality of your situation gnawed at the edges of your mind.

He doesn’t know, so he’s still acting like he has some kind responsibility towards you.

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” you reply, pulling back to look up at him. His smile is genuine, deepening the dimples on his cheeks, only stressing your fluttering nerves further and bringing a fresh wave of discomfort over you.

He holds up the take-out bag with a grin. “I brought Bulgogi and all the fixings. Figured we could have a little feast.”

“Great.” you said, trying to match his enthusiasm, but your voice falls flat. Much like your actions, because you feel more like a robot as you lead him to the table, quickly taking a seat and pouring yourself a tall glass of water.

As Namjoon begins to unpack the food, the rich aroma wafted towards you, and before you could even react, a wave of nausea hits you. You jump up and dash to the bathroom, barely making it in time.

Once inside, you leaned over the toilet, feeling the contents of your stomach spill out. Each heave bringing a mix of frustration and embarrassment. You didn’t even notice the sound of the door creaking open, too caught up in your misery to register it.

“Oh shit,” Namjoon says softly, his voice filled with concern. You feel his hands collect your hair away from your face, gently rubbing your back.

You’re too embarrassed to look at him. But his presence brings you some semblance of comfort. He doesn’t say anything. Just stays there with you, holding your hair back and massaging your back until you’re done.

Once you feel comfortable standing up, he brings you a wet washcloth and a glass of water. You sit on the edge of the bathtub, grateful for the small gestures of care amidst the tension that hangs between you.

A heavy silence settles, broken only by the sound of running water from the sink. You know Namjoon isn't oblivious; he's pieced together the clues—the missed calls, the unread messages—and now the truth hangs in the air like an unspoken accusation.

He doesn’t rush to speak, instead, taking his time to look at you, weighing his next words carefully.

“Congratulations.”

You give a small nod, not quite feeling like celebrating right now.

“How long have you known?” His voice is raw with hurt as he breaks the silence, his eyes searching yours for answers.

You draw in a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “A few weeks now.”

He blinks, the realization settling in. “A few weeks?” His voice is a mix of disbelief and pain. “When did you plan on telling me?”

“I-I don’t know.”

The weight of those words hung thick between you, like a dense fog, blurring the outlines of what was sure to be a life-altering conversation. You could see the cogs turning in Namjoon’s mind, processing the truth that lay before him.

“You plan for everything-” There is a mix of emotions that crosses his face in that split second, somehow, heartache being the most evident of them all “Is this why you’ve been ignoring me?”

You look away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. The weight of your decision feels heavier than before, almost like it could crush your chest under the pressure.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” You admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to involve you any more than necessary.”

Namjoon’s laugh is bitter, devoid of any humour, “Is that what you think I am? Just a means to an end? Someone to use and then discard when you no longer have need for me?”

You flinch at the accusation, the pain in his words cutting deeper than you could have ever imagined. “No, that’s not it at all!” You insist, reaching out to touch his arm, but he pulls away from your grasp.

“Then what is it?” He demands. “Because from where I’m standing it looks like you used me. You used my trust, my emotions, and then you tossed me aside like a piece of trash when you got what you wanted.”

You shake your head, tears filling your eyes “Namjoon, we had an agreement.”

“Yes. We also set up rules- rules, mind you- that we willingly broke with the first opportunity that showed up.”

The tension crackles in the air, and you feel your heart race as he takes a step back, putting distance between you. His words sting, but they cut close to the truth. You know he’s right; the lines blurred the moment you started sharing a bed.

You had anticipated every scenario, but this—seeing the hurt in Namjoon’s eyes, the disappointment etched across his face—was something you hadn’t prepared for

“Namjoon, please…” you plead, searching for the right words. “This wasn’t what I intended. I wanted a baby, yes, but I never meant for things to get complicated like this.”

He looks at you, his expression softening just a fraction, but the hurt is still there. You’ve never seen him like this- grasping at his emotions, struggling to keep them contained. He falls silent, looking away from you, and you sense the weight of his disappointment pressing down on you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“You’re cruel,” he says your name, the pain evident in his voice, as if the word itself is a wound. The rawness of his voice stabs at your heart, each word a reminder of the walls you’ve singlehandedly build between you.

You look away, letting your tears spill, no words fit for the damages you’ve caused.

“What about my feelings? My part in this? Did you ever stop to consider that maybe I’d want to be involved in this kid’s life too? In your life?” Namjoon continues, his voice slightly rising with a mix of frustration and pain. Each word causing you to sob further, and you can’t help but flinch at the reality of what you’ve done.

“I didn’t think-” you begin, but the words catch in your throat.

“Exactly! You don’t think,” he interrupts, his hands balling into fists by his side “You just plan.” He lets out a frustrated breath, “I actually thought you loved me back. God. I’m such an idiot.” He turns away, his back facing you, as if the distance between you somehow lessens the weight of the moment.

The silence stretches, heavy and unbearable, filled only by the sound of your ragged breathing.

“Namjoon, please,” you call out, your voice cracking. “Don’t go.”

He takes a slow, deliberate breath before responding, his voice low and strained. “What else can I do? You’ve already made your choice.”

Your heart aches at the hurt in his expression. “I was scared, Namjoon. Scared of how you’d react, scared of what this all meant.”

“Scared?” He scoffs, the bitterness returning to his voice. “Scared of what? Of being a family? Of letting me in?” He shakes his head, as if he can’t comprehend the distance you’ve created.

“Please,” you whisper, feeling the tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to get complicated like this. I wanted to share this with you, I really did.”

He takes a step back, the distance between you growing again. “You wanted a baby, not me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “And that’s what hurts the most.”

“Namjoon…” you say, your voice breaking.

He turns away, facing the door, the weight of his decision clear in his posture. “I need to go,” he says, his voice heavy with finality.

“Don’t,” you urge, panic rising, “Please, just… let’s talk about this.”

“I can’t.” Namjoon replies, his voice strained. “I can’t do this right now.”

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

You never liked waiting rooms.

There was something about the sterile white walls, the sickly-looking people, the occasional coughing and the wailing baby that made your stomach churn with anxiety.

Normally, you’d use your ‘connections’ to skip the line, asking your colleagues to check you out when they had a moment.

But this time felt different. Surrounded by a sea of pregnant women, each one rounder and fuller than the next, guilt washed over you for even considering it.

So instead, you settled in next to a woman with a crying baby, constantly refreshing your messaging app, hoping Namjoon would respond to your messages.

You: First ultrasound appointment. I’d be glad if you can make it…

And you forwarded the message from the hospital with all the details about the appointment.

The message was flagged as read since you sent it, two weeks ago. But no response came.

The minutes stretched on, each second amplifying your unease. You glanced around the waiting room, feeling like an outsider among the expecting mothers. Their laughter and chatter felt detached from reality, and you couldn’t shake the knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach.

You opened the messaging app again, staring at Namjoon’s contact. Maybe if you focused hard enough, those three little typing dots would appear. A follow-up message might coax a reply, but a small voice warned you against it. You didn’t want to seem desperate, even though you felt that way deep down.

Taking a deep breath, you put your phone down and tried to centre yourself. You could hear the soft coos of the woman besides you as she rocked her baby, and you took a moment to admired her calming demeanour. It was such a stark contrast to your own swirling thoughts, that you found a bit of peace in her tranquillity.

After a moment, the woman caught your eye. “Is this your first?”

You nodded, trying to muster a smile as you placed a hand over your still flat stomach “Yeah, I’m a nervous wreck.”

You weren’t quite sure why you felt compelled to open up to this random lady, yet here you were, being more honest with a stranger than you had been with your partner.

She smiled back, her big eyes filled with warmth. “That’s normal. Just take it one step at a time. You’ll be just fine.”

You appreciated her kindness, but at that moment, it did little to ease any of the mounting worries you’ve been collecting since your last conversation with Namjoon. The pain in his eyes was still etched in your memory, surfacing at the most inopportune of times and reminding you of just how easily you could tangle up your own life. Each thought felt like a thread unravelling, pulling you deeper into a sea of uncertainty- about your future, your relationship, your entire damned plan.

You checked the message again, hoping for something-anything- from Namjoon. Still, nothing changed.

Then, faster than you expected, a nurse called out your name. You barely fumbled to collect all your belongings before heading into her office, your heart feeling more like a speck of sand in your chest. Each of your steps felt heavy, a whirlwind of emotions swirling through you harder still.

Dr Mi-ja greeted you with the usual warmth and quickly launched into a series of tests and questions about your well-being— checking vitals, asking about symptoms, energy levels, nausea and anything else that seemed relevant.

“Have you had any cravings or aversions?” she inquired, glancing up from her clipboard.

“Just a strong aversion to hospital waiting rooms,” you joked, forcing a small strained laugh.

She chuckled, her head shaking lightly “That’s a common one. But overall, it seems like you’re doing well. Now, let’s move on to the ultrasound. That’s the exciting part!”

As you followed her to the ultrasound room, a mix of excitement and nervousness boils in you with every step down the hall. This was one of those moments you had dreamed about, meticulously planning every detail for-the outfit you’d wear, how you’d react, all the little other moments that filled your mind.

Yet, as the moment draws near, a wave of sadness washed over you at the thought that Namjoon wasn’t by your side. Even if he hadn’t been part of the plan initially, you had hoped he would be here to share this significant milestone. His absence felt heavy, casting a bittersweet shadow over the excitement. You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the experience ahead, but the longing for his presence lingered in the back of your mind.

“Is the father coming?” Dr Mi-ja asks, sparing a glance in your direction as you enter the ultrasound room. You paused, hesitant to speak the truth out loud.

“I don’t think he can make it,” you finally admit, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

Dr Mi-ja nodded, her expression understanding. “It’s okay if he can’t be here. What matters is that you’re here, and we’ll take very good care of you.”

You appreciated her kindness, but it did little to ease the pang of discouragement as you accepted this new reality.

As you settled on the examination table, Dr Mi-ja prepared the ultrasound machine. “I’m going to need you to unbutton your shirt.” She said gently. You nodded, taking a moment to gather your thoughts before following her instructions. Sitting at the edge of the table, you began unbuttoning your shirt, taking your time as you wrestled with the lingering sadness.

Just then, a loud bang echoed through the room, startling you. Sumi's voice carried through the door, her muffled voice scolding whoever slammed against the door, before the ID swipe beeped, signalling the door had unlocked. In walks a slightly pissed Sumi, closely followed by a very flustered Namjoon.

“Sorry we’re late! Someone wasn’t aware you had to fill out forms at the hospital,” She shot a glare at Namjoon, before addressing you, as if you had somehow contributed to that chaos.

“This is a private meeting.” Dr Mi-ja began, preparing to escort them out. But you stopped her.

“No. This is the father.” As you introduced Namjoon, a new wave of emotions crashes over you. But Namjoon stepped forward confidently, his eyes reflecting relief and apprehension.

“Sorry for the mix-up.” he said, glancing at Sumi, who looked taken aback but quickly masked her surprise with a supportive smile.

Dr Mi-ja softened her stance, clearly sensing the significance of the moment. “Alright then. Let’s proceed without further interruptions, preferably.” She shot a pointed look Sumi, but her demeanour shifted to one of professionalism as she gestured to the both of you to take a seat.

You caught Sumi roll her eyes, muttering a “Bitch” under her breath before she exited the room with a soft click of the door behind her.

As you settle back onto the examination table, your gaze met Namjoon’s. There is no shock or hesitation in his eyes- just a steady presence that made you feel a little more grounded, even as the situation felt heavier with him there. He offered you a reassuring smile, and for the first time in weeks, the clouds that loomed in your brain began to shift, even if just slightly.

“Now, let’s see how your little one is doing,” Dr Mi-ja said, smiling at both of you.

Namjoon’s hand found yours as he leaned closer to the screen, his grip anchoring you before the anticipation and nerves got a chance to settle.

Dr Mi-ja applied the cool gel to your abdomen, the sensation catching you off guard. “Are you ready?” she asked, glancing at you with an encouraging smile.

You nod, your heart racing.

“Alright, let’s take a look,” she said, positioning the wand with careful precision.

As the screen flickered to life, your breath caught in your throat.

There it was—a tiny blob pulsing rhythmically, the heartbeat a steady echo that filled the room. It was surreal, overwhelming, and suddenly everything else outside this tiny moment faded away.

“There’s your baby,” Dr Mi-ja said, her voice warm with enthusiasm. “And that heartbeat is strong.”

You looked over at Namjoon, who was completely absorbed in the image on the screen, his eyes shimmering with wonder.

The doctor continued, tracing the contours of the tiny form. “Everything looks good so far. The heartbeat is strong, and the measurements are right on track. You’re about ten weeks along, correct?”

Your heart swelled with a mix of joy and relief. “Yes, that’s right.”

Namjoon’s fingers tightened around yours, a silent promise as he gazed at the screen, his expression softening even further.

“Everything looks normal,” Dr Mi-ja confirmed. “Your next appointment in a few weeks to monitor progress.”

A sense of reassurance washes over you. “Thank you,” you said, your voice steadying now, as you absorbed the information.

As the ultrasound session wrapped up, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Namjoon while Dr Mi-ja cleaned up and provided her parting advice- encouraging you to reach out with any concerns, telling you about the parenting classes- and the handover of a written confirmation for your next appointment.

You buttoned your shirt back up, catching Namjoon’s thoughtful gaze, his head bowed respectfully, offering you a semblance of privacy, despite having seen every inch of your skin already. In his presence, your heart ached anew.

It was always in these quiet moments that the weight of everything settled more clearly upon your shoulders—times when you couldn’t retreat into your agenda or your planner. In his presence, you were compelled to confront your emotions, even without a single word being exchanged between you.

As you stepped into the hospital parking lot, your uncertainty clung to you like a shadow, whispering doubts in your ear. You knew you needed to speak, to give a voice to the turmoil that twisted in your heart before he disappeared again. You needed to apologize, and even if he couldn’t find it in himself to forgive you, you longed for even a crumb of closure.

But just as you prepared to part ways, Namjoon glanced over at you; his eyes filled with a depth that kept you rooted in your place, making it even harder to find your voice.

“Let’s grab lunch and talk,” he suggested, his voice steady.

And you could only give a shy nod in response.

You never imagined the first meaningful conversation with Namjoon would take place at a sandwich shop near his apartment. The inviting little deli was filled with the delicious aroma of freshly baked bread and savoury fillings. As you settled at a corner table, the weight of the morning’s events unwrapped around you, mingling with the scent of sandwiches and freshly brewed coffee.

Namjoon ordered a turkey club while you opted for a BLT, and a long, uneasy silence settled between you. The hum of conversation around you felt distant, your mind still trying to conjure just what you were about to say to him.

“You look good,” he said, breaking the silence, his eyes warm and sincere as they met yours across the small table. A rush of warmth flooded through you at his compliment, a small comfort amidst the tension.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you didn’t quite believe him despite the earnestness reflected in his gaze.

And the silence wrapped around you once more.

The sandwiches arrived, yet neither one of you made a move to eat, the plates sitting untouched between you, like a barrier that mirrored the distance you felt.

“I didn’t think you’d come today,” you ventured, daring to meet his gaze, memories of your last conversation flicking through your mind.

“I almost didn’t.” Namjoon admitted. “But I figured you might appreciate some support.” He offered a warm smile, adding “Not that you need it.”

His last comment drew an unsatisfied laugh from your lips, helping to ease some of the apprehension that had backed up inside you. “I need it more than you know.”

Namjoon leaned back, his expression contemplative. “Seeing the ultrasound… it’s a big deal,” he said gently, a seriousness in his tone that hinted at the weight of what had happened between you. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“You deserve to be here.” you admitted, “You’re a part of this as much as I am.”

Namjoon studied you quietly, the warmth in his gaze revealing a combination of gratitude and vulnerability “It means a lot to hear you say that.” He said, glancing around the shop before adding “I really want to be a part of this baby’s life. However we agree to do that.”

His words settle heavily between you, and you could sense the tension beneath the surface.

“I want that too,” you replied, your voice trembling as you fought to maintain steadiness. “I’m sorry I made everything so complicated.”

“It’s okay. I helped,” he said, a hint of self-awareness in his tone. “But the baby shouldn’t have to pay for our mistakes.”

You nodded, the gravity of his words wrapping around you like a shroud and you instinctively placed a protective hand over your belly.

“You’re right.”

Namjoon was careful choosing his next words, concern deeply etched on his face before he finally spoke. “But that might mean letting go of some of your control.”

His words struck you like ice, sending a chill down your spine and igniting a surge of defensiveness within you. You straightened, meeting his gaze with a mixture of disbelief and frustration. “Control?” You question, vexed. “I’m just trying to ensure everything goes perfectly! Isn’t that what you want? A stable life for our child?"

“I know,” Namjoon replied softly, holding your gaze. “But we both have to be on the same page. It can’t be just your decision alone.”

Tears started to sting your eyes, and you angrily blink them away, choosing instead to look out the window at the busy streets.

“All I’ve ever done has been for this baby. You know that.” You say, jaw set, despite the tears that threatened to spill.

Namjoon says your name softly, drawing your attention back to him “You plan every detail obsessively. It’s like you’re trying to control everything around you. You can’t even enjoy the moment because you’re too busy scheduling the next ten!"

"It’s better than living like you do!” you shot back, your anger bubbling to the surface. “Letting life tremble all over you only to look back and make sense of it! At least I’m trying to prevent a disaster, not understand it! "

“And what about us? Aren’t we a disaster?” he pressed; his voice steady but laced with emotion. “I feel like I’m just a means to an end for you. Like this baby is just another project for you to manage. You don’t even see me anymore.”

Your breath quickened as you leaned forward, your heart pounding against your ribcage. “That’s not true! I care about you- goddamn it, I love you! But I can’t let my guard down. Not when I have so much at stake!”

“But I want to be a part of this!” Namjoon said earnestly, leaning in closer. “I want to be involved, not just the guy you called to help you make the baby. This is supposed to be a journey we take together!”

You ran a hand through your hair, frustration still clawing at your insides. You didn’t even realize you’ve been crying until you felt the warmth on your cheeks.

“I... I don’t know how to do that Namjoon. I’ve been hurt too many times. It’s just easier to plan than to hope.” A wave of defeat crashed over you with that admission, and in an instant, the floodgates opened, releasing a torrent of unspoken fears and buried tears.

Namjoon leans back slightly, giving you the space to breathe.

“Planning is fine, but it can’t be everything. We need to figure this out together. We need to create space for our uncertainties.”

Your shoulders sagged, the tension in your body softening. “I just… I’m scared.” You hiccupped in between sobs “What if I let go and it all falls apart? What if I lose you?”

“We’ll figure it out. Together.” He reached for your hand, gently squeezing it. “But we can’t do that if you keep pushing me away.”

You finally met his gaze, feeling vulnerability flickering within you like never before. “I don’t want to push you away. I just... don’t know how to trust.”’

“Then let me help you learn.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you look down at your clasped hands, tears spilling freely, each drop a silent testament to the weight you’ve carried alone for so long.

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy or that we won’t argue,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, “But I’ll always fight for us. I just need you to meet me halfway.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, unravelling the layers of your defences, leaving you feeling exposed and fragile. Yet, amidst the vulnerability, a flickering of hope ignited in your chest- a whisper that maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something new, something different. That something you’ve been looking for…

Namjoon watched as tears spilled down your cheeks, his heart aching at the sight. He reached across the table, offering you a handful of napkins. “Here,” he said softly, his voice an anchor amidst your chaos.

You took them, dabbing at your eyes and blowing your nose, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. The weight of everything hung between you, thickening the air with each second you stayed quiet.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your lip quivering “I didn’t mean to break down like this.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, his expression as gentle as it always was with you. “You’re allowed to feel, to let it out.”

The warmth of his understanding buoyed you, validating your feelings and bringing you closer to the surface, where you could finally breathe again, where you could be weak and yet know that he would never use that to harm you. Because your hurt, in turn was his own. He understood that your struggles affected him too.

“Joon, I know we’re in the middle of a fight. But do you think you could hold me just a bit?”

Namjoon’s gaze softened at your request, a sliver of surprise giving way to warmth. Without hesitation, he slid his chair closer, wrapping his arms around you and you leaned into him. The familiar scent of him grounding you amidst the storm of emotions as you nuzzled closer.

“I’ve got you.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he tucked you against his side.

In his embrace, the world outside faded- the bustling kitchen, the other patrons- leaving just the two of you, cocooned in a fragile moment of closure.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

He tightened his hold, his breath warm against your hair. “You don’t have to apologize for feeling. We’re in this together, remember?”

You nodded, letting his words sink in. The vulnerability of the moment washed over you like a wave, only this time, it was comforting rather than overwhelming.

“Yes. Together.”

As you sat there, the rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in your ears, grounding you. “But did you hear the part where I said ‘I love you’? because I can say it again if you need me to.” You said after a moment, your voice still soft as you looked up at him.

Namjoon’s eyes softened, and a warm smile spread across his face. “I heard you,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “And you already know I love your right? Because I can say it again too”

You couldn’t help but smile at his playful response. “I do know,” you replied, feeling warmth blossom in your chest. “But hearing it never hurts.”

Namjoon chuckled softly, the sound soothing your frayed nerves. “Well then, I love you,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “I love you more than words can say.”

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

“Ah, fuck, fuck, Namjoon, baby, fuck.” You moaned; your fingers twisted in the sheets as he worked his magic in between your legs. Your huge belly was in the way, blocking your view of him, but you could feel the warmth of his body, and the flick of his tongue against your clit.

You had read all the books, knew all the facts about pregnancy and sex. But nothing could have prepared you for this feeling. For the way Namjoon made your body come alive with each pass of his tongue. You completely lost count of how many times you came, your legs trembling and breath coming in sharp, short gasps.

You were so in the moment you didn’t even register the fact that Namjoon was giggling like a little kid against your pussy instead of actually eating it.

“What?” you were completely dazed.

“You can’t cuss like that! The baby might hear you.” Namjoon said as he came up for air, still grinning from ear to ear, dimples evident on his cheeks.

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful demeanour. "Oh, you're so funny. The baby can't hear me, he’s still in the womb."

"But still, I don't want my child to come out into this world thinking his mother has such a dirty mouth," he said, his tone serious but his eyes betraying his amusement.

"Well, I'll watch it then," you said, your hand reaching out to playfully mess up his hair. "But for now, I think you have some unfinished business to attend to." You place your foot on his shoulder and push him back down.

Namjoon’s grin widened as he lowered his head between your legs once again, and you close your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of his tongue and the knowledge that you crated a life with this amazing man.

As you reach your climax, you let out a loud moan, not caring if the baby can hear you or not. Namjoon continues to lick and suck, drawing out your orgasm until you're left breathless and satisfied.

And then you gasp suddenly, not the pleasure-induced gasps you've been slipping out for the past hour, but like realisation just struck you.

"Namjoon!" you said, placing a hand on his shoulder and pinching him to draw his attention. At that Namjoon almost jumps out of his skin, panic settling in.

“What? Is the baby coming? Did I hurt you?"

"No! No! Look!" you quickly grab his hand and place it over your belly, right as your little baby boy decided to kick again. "He's moving!"

Namjoon's face lit up with awe as he felt the baby kick for the first time.

“Little Cosmo is moving!”

You groan, falling back into the pillows, “We are not naming him Cosmo!”

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

Epilogue:

“Joonie! Dae!” you called out, your voice ringing out over the crashing waves “Come over for sun screen!”

The sun hung high in the clear blue sky, casting a golden glow over the tropical island. Waves lapped gently against the shore, creating a soothing rhythm that blended perfectly with the distant sounds of waves breaking against the cliffs, and occasional seagull that seemed to laugh at the world below.

You’re secretly glad you listened to Namjoon’s advice to go on this trip in June instead of September as you initially planned. You thought visiting during a quieter time would help you avoid the crowds, but it turns out that’s not a concern at all when your sweet husband can simply rent a private beach for you.

You spread the towel on the warm sand, glancing around at the vibrant scenery- the lush palm trees swaying in the light breeze, and the sparking blue ocean stretching endlessly before you.

A moment later you spotted them- Namjoon, his broad smile bright against the backdrop of the beach, wearing his swimming trunks and looking absolutely delicious, holding Dae in his arms. The little one’s laughter was infectious, bubbling up like the waves crashing nearby. Dae’s tiny limbs waved in the air, delighting in the freedom of the open space.

“Coming!” Namjoon replied, his tone playful. He jogged over, the sun glinting off his skin, showcasing his pretty abs and the carefree spirit of the day.

You watched, your heart swelling with happiness, as he settled down on the towel next to you, carefully placing Dae between you.

“Alright, little man,” you said, taking the sunscreen and squirting a generous amount into your palm “Time to protect this adorable face of yours.”

Dae giggles, showcasing his dimples, squirming in delight as you rubbed the sunscreen on his cheeks. His soft, sun-kisses skin felt warm beneath your fingertips, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly he was growing. Just a few months ago, he was a tiny bundle in your arms, and now he was a full-grown toddler, potty trained and everything.

And just like planned, he was the perfect mix between you and Namjoon. You noticed that the first time he started crawling- how he would stop to investigate his surroundings, cautiously moving around as if he was planning his next best step. But when it came to Namjoon, he felt safe enough to throw caution to the wind.

Your heart almost stopped the first time you saw your precious little angel climb to the top of the tallest slide in the park, a feat that made you want to rush over and pull him back. But there he was, beaming with confidence, looking back at his father with pure trust in his eyes, before fully leaping off the edge without a hint of hesitation, knowing Namjoon was right there to catch him.

You quickly retrieved Dae’s bucket hat before he managed to squirm off, expertly equipping him, pushing his dark hair out of the way adjusting the hat snugly on his head. “My handsome little man,” you said proudly, earning a delighted squeal from Dae, followed by an enthusiastic “Mommy, go splash!”

“Okay, okay, go splash.” You giggle, letting him dart ahead towards the water. The moment his little feet hit the wet sand, he was off like a rocket, his laughter ringing out as he ran towards the waves.

You followed closely behind, your heart light with joy as you watched him dip his toes into the ocean.

He paused for a moment, eyes wide with wonder, before jumping back as a wave rolled in, soaking his legs. He laughed, grinning from ear to ear.

“That’s it baby!”

Namjoon walked over, his arms wrapping against your waist, pulling you into his hard chest, placing a quick kiss on your neck. “You know, I’ve been thinking-”

“That’s not good,” you tease, a smile spreading across your face as your gazes stayed on Dae, who was poking at the sand.

Namjoon chuckled softly, biting your neck playfully. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts again, making sure you listen before continuing “maybe it’s time we give Dae a little sister.”

You turn to him, surprised and delighted. “A sister? Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “I can just imagine Dae being the best big brother. He’s so loving and protective.”

“Well, maybe you won’t have to wait so long for that.” You teased, your heart racing at the thought.

Namjoon’s eyes widened slightly, a grin spreading across his face. “Are you serious?”

“Maybe,” you said, a playful glint in your eyes. “What if I told you I’ve been thinking about this too?”

“Now you’ve got me curious,” he replied, leaning in closer, his expression a mix of excitement and surprise. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

You laughed, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin and the joy of the moment. “I guess we’ll just have to see where life takes us.”

Namjoon’s smile grew wider, and he pulled you in for a quick kiss, but it was quickly interrupted by a little wet, sandy hand pulling at your leg.

“Mommy! Look!”

Dae’s eyes shimmered as he held up his tiny little fist, opening it to reveal a little yellow crab desperately trying to escape.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” you laugh, bending down to get a closer look.

The little creature wiggled its legs, clearly unimpressed with its current situation.

#bts smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #kim namjoon #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #perfect plan

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 6 months ago

Text

Cherry Blossom. aka - Cherry, Part Four.

a night of conversations, kisses and long awaited confessions.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - cursing, kissing (but no real smut).

word count - 2.6k

authors note - the babies are back!! no smut in this one - it was getting too long. but don’t you worry… there’s gonna be so much smut in part five !! sorry for the cliffhanger. love u <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. main masterlist. inbox.

The smoke from the bonfire is stinging your eyes, ash sticking to the strands of your hair. Orange embers burn rapidly, dry wood being occasionally thrown on top by drunk boys with red cups in their hands.

The music is way too loud for a forest party, but no one seems to care. Someone’s haphazardly strung lights between the trees, creating a surprisingly cosy ambience. The atmosphere is alive, charged with the electricity of being out later than curfew.

“M’lady!”

You laugh, accepting the drink from Eddie’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you say as you curtsy sarcastically, making both of you laugh harder. “Hey, you didn’t bump into Steve on your way over here, did you? I haven’t seen him for like an hour.”

The curly haired boy kicks the toe of your sneaker with his.

“Saw him with that Clara girl, talking by the lake.”

You take a steadying breath, pretending it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

“You should go and check if he needs rescuing,” Eddie jokes. “God knows she can talk for hours without coming up for air.”

You smile at him, pulling at one of his curls.

“Good idea. Just in case.”

“Just in case,” he winks, pushing you in the right direction.

You saunter down towards the water, spotting your best friend instantly. He’s stood with his arms across his chest, weight on one hip as he tries to listen to whatever Clara has to say. The minute he sees you, his posture is straightening, lips quirking up at the corners.

Clara turns around to see what Steve is looking at, her face falling when she recognises you.

“Hi. I don’t mean to interrupt! Just wanted to check if you needed another drink, Stevie.”

The boy grins, beckoning you closer with a nod of his head. When you’re near enough, he leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, all affectionate and tender.

Oh.

You don’t do that.

The two of you have kept your romance completely behind closed doors, up until now. It hasn’t got a name, never mind a label, and you don’t need people asking questions when you don’t even know the answers yourself.

You could blame it on the alcohol, but you know Steve’s on his first drink. With your head spinning, you look up at him as if he is the sun and all things warm. He looks down at you the exact same way.

“I’m gonna go see where my friends are,” Clara says a little too loudly, strutting away with as much confidence as she can muster.

You have a sudden feeling that you’re the villain in her story, but you’re not entirely sure why.

“How many drinks have you had?” Steve asks as he pulls a strand of hair away from your face.

“This is my second. I was nursing my first one, Eddie says.”

The boy laughs, and you grab onto his bicep for support. The sound of it is enough to buckle your knees.

“This is my first. It’s not doing much for me.”

“You want something different? I’m sure Robin has that beer you like in her bag.”

“Nah, I’m okay. Don’t think I’m gonna drink any more tonight.”

Steve slips his hands into the back pockets of your jeans, pulling you in closer and keeping them there.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he whispers back.

And then he kisses you. Again. It’s slow and careful and so romantic that you think you might start crying about it.

“What time is it?” he asks when he pulls away as if nothing happened.

“Eleven thirty.”

“You wanna stay a bit longer?”

“Not if you don’t.”

Steve presses his lips to your forehead, hands cradling your cheeks.

“I kinda wanna go home.”

You smile at him, all soft and sweet.

“Then let’s go home. I’m getting a little cold, anyway. And I didn’t bring a jacket.”

“Will you ever learn?” he laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“If it means I have to stop wearing your jackets that I know you bring to parties just for me? No, I won’t.”

You weren’t supposed to say that out loud, but the way Steve chuckles soothes the sting of the accidental wound.

“Let’s go home, Cherry Baby.”

Home. The assumption that the two of you will always be returning to the same place makes your heart so full, you wonder how it doesn’t spill over.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“You good?”

“Feet hurt.”

This happens every single time the two of you go to a party, so you feel as if you’re reliving a memory.

“Hop on.”

“Steve-”

“Cherry. Come on. We’ll get home quicker this way.”

You can’t argue with that. Steve crouches as you jump onto his back, his hands wrapping around your thighs to keep you steady. You wrap your arms around his neck from behind, resting your head on top of his.

“Comfy back there?”

You hum, the noise of agreement enough for Steve to start walking.

The two of you chat each others ears off on the way home, talking about nothing and everything. You laugh so hard at something he says that you end up with a mouthful of his hair, which he in turn finds hilarious.

“Have you thought any more about what I said the other day?”

“You say a lot of things, Steven.”

He chuckles, shaking his head and giving your thighs a squeeze.

“About college.”

You go quiet for a moment, and Steve wonders if he’s chosen the wrong time to have this conversation.

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s talk about it later, okay? When I’m not constantly worried I’m gonna accidentally trip and kill you.”

You nod, and he feels it. You know it needs to be a discussion sometime soon, but perhaps having it when you’re being carried down the street on your best friends back isn’t all that practical.

“Love you,” you mumble into the crook of Steve’s neck.

He shudders a little at your lips on his skin, leaning his head sideways to rest against yours.

“Love you, Cherry Pie. More than anything.”

You let Steve piggyback you all the way to his front door. Neither of you say anything else. Neither of you feel the need to.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Steve bumps his hip into yours as you both brush your teeth, laughing at your shocked reflection in the mirror.

“Are you okay?” you ask as you place your toothbrush back in its holder, right next to his.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

You hop up on the bathroom counter, sitting up so you’re eye to eye with the boy in front of you. He takes a step forward, standing between your legs as he splays his cold hands over your thighs.

“Why’d you ask?”

You trace over his fingers where they rest on your skin, quiet for a moment.

“You seemed pretty eager to go home tonight. It’s unlike you. You love a party. Leaving at eleven thirty is like… unheard of, for King Steve.”

“King Steve would rather be at home with you than at a party with all those people.”

“Really?”

“Really. Clara was going on about something or other, the music was too loud, and I could feel the chill coming in. It hit me, all of a sudden, that I’d rather be in bed. Or, anywhere else, as long as I was with you.”

You lean forward to rest your head against his chest, sighing when he starts playing with your hair gently.

“You’re a softie,” you mumble into his shirt. “And a mind reader.”

“It’s my one talent,” he chuckles. “I wish reading your mind was a college major. I’d be the best in the world.”

You shake your head, laughing like you can’t help it.

“If I don’t move soon, I’m gonna fall asleep on this bathroom counter.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Contrary to popular belief,” you tease as you hop down, “my legs actually do work.”

Steve gasps, all theatrical and exaggerated, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Come on, sleepy girl. Let’s go to bed.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“We’re not talking about stuff.”

You whisper it into the darkness, the trees rustling outside Steve’s window serving as the only sound you can hear.

“Hmm?”

Your legs are tangled with his, tired head resting on the boys shoulder as your sides are pressed together. You’re both lying on your backs, staring at the ceiling.

“We keep saying we’ll talk about stuff, but we haven’t been. It’s not like us.”

“You mean, like, feelings?”

“Yeah.”

All that can be heard now is two sets of heaving lungs. Steve’s hand finds yours under the duvet, fingers intertwining.

“Is there something specific that’s bothering you?”

“Not bothering me as such. I just… I think the more we don’t talk, the more complicated things become.”

There’s silence for a moment, before Steve speaks.

“I’m scared, Cherry.”

The tone of his voice is paper thin and vulnerable, and you will yourself not to cry about it.

“Of what, Stevie?”

You squeeze his hand, tucking yourself further into his side until there isn’t an inch of space between you.

“Of… everything changing. You’re my best friend in the entire world, and I know that what we’ve been doing isn’t typical… best friend stuff. I just…” he takes a deep breath, exhaling carefully. “I worry that something will happen and we’ll break up, and I’ll lose you forever.”

His voice cracks on the last word, fear seeping through his pores. Yet, he continues.

“I’d die without you, Cherry. I really would. I don’t know what it’s like to live in a world where we’re not… us.”

You turn onto your side to face him in the dark, reaching up to cradle his cheek softly. You rest your forehead against his temple, pressing a kiss into his skin.

“I’m scared too. I have been ever since that first night in my room. Not because I don’t trust you, or because I don’t feel that way about you… but because I don’t want to lose you either. More than anything, I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why didn’t we talk about this sooner?” he laughs, throat thick with emotion.

“Because we’re us. And whether we talk or don’t talk, we know we’ll figure it out. We always know we’ll be okay.”

“I love you,” he whispers into the dark. “More than all the stars in the sky.”

“I love you,” you whisper back. “More than all the grains of sand on all the beaches in the world.”

You press another kiss into his temple, letting your lips linger on his soft skin. He smells so familiar, so warm, so yours… you can’t help but inhale, chuckling when he shudders.

You continue to leave kisses across his jaw, over his ear, down his neck. He tilts his head to give you better access, groaning when you nip at his throat with your teeth, licking over the scrape to soothe him.

Steve pulls you in as if you weigh nothing, moving you so you’re lying on top of him. You sit up, straddling his lap, as he does the same so you’re chest to chest. Running his hands under your shirt and over the bare skin of your back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You look so pretty like this,” he hums against your lips. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

“You wanna talk about pretty?” you tease, running your fingers through his hair. “My pretty, pretty boy.”

Steve’s hips buck up into yours, making you giggle.

“Oh, you like that? You like it when I call you pretty? Or do you just like it when I call you mine?��

His hips buck again as his cheeks flush pink.

“I am yours,” he murmurs. “Always have been.”

You thought you had the upper hand for a minute, but now you just want to cry. You’re overwhelmed by the way you feel about the boy underneath you, unsure of how to process it without bursting into tears.

“All mine,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your fingertip.

Steve takes a deep breath, watching your eyes as they look over him again and again, taking him in as if it’s the first time. He decides it’s now or never.

“Cherry?”

“Stevie?”

Your voices are low and careful, irregardless of the fact that you’re alone in the house.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stops, and so does the world outside. Everything pauses, the two of you suspended in this moment in time.

Steve takes another breath, exhaling it carefully before meeting your eyes and continuing.

“You don’t have to say it back. Now, or ever. I just - I needed you to know.”

You blink back tears as you watch his face, biting your lip to stop them from falling.

“Steve-”

“Hey, I told you. You don’t have to say anything, babe. I know-”

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“Just-”

You surge forward and kiss him with all the affection you can muster, trying to express your feelings. You grip his hair, plastering your bodies together where you sit in his lap still. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in as close as he can.

“If you let me talk,” you say when you pull away, all breathless, “you’d hear that I have something I’d like to say.”

Steve smiles, humming in acknowledgment and encouraging you to keep going.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

The boy looks shocked to hear it, as if it’s news to him.

“What’s that face for?” you laugh.

“I just… I didn’t expect you to say it back.”

“Steve,” you chuckle, looking at him sternly. When you realise he’s being serious, you double down. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. When we were kids, and someone would say the word ‘husband’, I always pictured you. I was so convinced it was always going to end up being you and I.”

“Why… why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Why didn’t you?”

He laughs, and the sound makes you feel as if you’re on cloud nine. You can feel his heartbeat where his chest is pressed to yours, frantic like he’s just ran a marathon.

“Fuck, I love you.”

He leans up to kiss you, all saccharine and honey sweet.

“Say it again,” you whisper against his lips.

“I’m in love with you, Cherry.”

“Say it again.”

“I, Steve Harrington, declare that I am completely, utterly, ridiculously in love with this girl right here. I always have been. I always will be.”

You can’t help but throw your head back with laughter.

“And I love you. So much.”

The words you’ve always said mean so much more now. It’s a welcome change, one you never thought you’d see happen.

“Hey Steve?”

“Hmm?”

You lean in, nosing at his jaw as you murmur into his ear.

“Want you. So bad.”

“Fuck, honey,” he groans, all low and rough.

“Please. Want it to be you.”

Looking up at you with big eyes, he searches your face for any kind of hesitation.

“Are you sure?”

Smoothing his hair away from his face, you trace your thumb over his bottom lip.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grins. “I’m about to rock your world, Cherry Blossom.”

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melagnes · 5 months ago

Text

Truth or Dare

Synopsis: The Abbott crew gathered for a night at Melissa’s place; of course, Janine and Jacob convinced everyone to play truth or dare. The game unveiled some deep truths and with a few too many drinks, leads to you and Melissa getting even closer.

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: smut

The evening had unfolded lazily, each passing moment steeped in the warm glow of soft lighting that Melissa had meticulously arranged to create a cosy ambiance. The air was filled with the gentle hum of shared laughter and the unmistakable comfort of close friends finding solace from the relentless pace of everyday life. Melissa's home, with its inviting atmosphere and welcoming decor, had transformed into a sanctuary for the group.

Among them were you, Melissa, Janine, Jacob, Ava, Gregory, and Barbara–a group who had known each other for years. As the night progressed, you all settled comfortably into the familiar rhythm of friendship that required no pretense or formality. Glasses clinked as toasts were exchanged, and conversations ebbed and flowed effortlessly, fueled by the easy camaraderie that only longtime friends could share.

Janine and Jacob, always the instigators of fun, decided to inject a spark of excitement into the gathering. “Hey, guys, how about we spice things up with a game of truth or dare?” Janine's voice rang out eagerly, her eyes bright with anticipation.

Jacob was quick to jump on board. “Ah, Janine, you beacon of mischief! Count me in.”

“Sure, why not,” you chimed in, intrigued by the prospect of the game. You followed Janine and Jacob as they led the way to rearrange the furniture in Melissa's living room, forming a circle that accommodated everyone comfortably.

Ava, Barbara, and Gregory joined the circle, their expressions signalling interest as they sat down.

Melissa chuckled good-naturedly as she shook her head. “Come on, guys, we're adults now. Isn't this a bit juvenile?” She teased, her tone laced with mock seriousness as she glanced around at the group. Finding a comfortable spot on the couch next to you, she sat close enough that your thighs lightly pressed together, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

Jacob, undeterred by Melissa's scepticism, leaned over to nudge her side. “Oh, Melissa, you're not afraid of a little fun, are you?”

Melissa rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Fine, fine. Let's do it, but don't expect me to play along if your dares turn out to be ridiculous.”

With a collective agreement, the game began. Janine, always eager, wasted no time in setting the tone. She turned to Jacob, excitement evident on her face. “Jacob, I dare you to perform an impromptu dance to a song chosen by Ava,” she declared, her voice filled with enthusiasm.

Ava, known for her impeccable taste in music, quickly selected “WAP” by Cardi B. Ava took pride in being the resident DJ, and Jacob, never one to shy away from a challenge, sprang to his feet with exaggerated flair. He went from the top and made it drop.

Melissa choked on laughter, a soft sound that barely escaped her lips, as she sat beside you. Her hand, warm and comforting, rested casually on your thigh, a touch that sent a sudden surge of awareness through your body. You couldn't help but be distracted from Jacob's masterful dance moves, your mind wandering to the tantalising possibilities her touch evoked–what it would feel like if her hand moved higher, tracing a path towards your core, exploring the sensitive skin beneath your clothes.

“Hey, are you okay?” Melissa whispered, her voice low and intimate, her breath tickling your earlobe as she leaned in closer.

Your heartbeat quickened at her proximity, at the hint of sultry in her tone. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied softly, trying to suppress the flutter of anticipation in your voice. “I was just daydreaming.”

“What were you daydreaming about?” Melissa whispered again, her lips grazing your ear with each word, sending a shiver down your spine. Her touch was electrifying, igniting a slow burn of desire that flickered in the depths of your being.

You hesitated, unsure whether to reveal the provocative fantasy that had momentarily consumed your mind. “Oh, you know,” you deflected, offering a half-smile as you gently moved her hand away from your thigh. “Just random stuff.”

Melissa arched an eyebrow, her playful demeanour hinting at an underlying curiosity. “Random stuff, huh?” she teased, her gaze lingering on yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice steadier now as you met her gaze, a mixture of attraction and uncertainty swirling in your eyes. “Just silly daydreams.”

Her laughter, tinged with amusement and something more, filled the space between you. “Well, now I'm curious,” Melissa admitted, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on your upper arm. “But it’s fine if you'd rather keep your thoughts to yourself.”

“Thanks,” you replied, grateful for her tact, yet inwardly conflicted by the desire to delve deeper into the moment. The air between you felt charged with potential, a crossroads where friendship could evolve into something deeper, something more profound.

As the night wore on and inhibitions loosened with each sip of wine, the atmosphere in the room subtly shifted. Conversations flowed more freely and laughter came easier. Amidst this convivial setting, the air between Janine and Gregory grew thick with unspoken tension, their stolen glances and nervous smiles betraying emotions they both tried to hide.

From across the room, Melissa noticed the palpable tension and decided to stir the pot further. “Janine, truth or dare?” she asked, her tone challenging.

“Dare, of course!” Janine responded with feigned confidence, though her nerves fluttered beneath the surface.

Melissa's smirk turned devilish, her eyes sparkling with expectancy. “I dare you to confess who you’d wanna sleep with most in this room.”

Barbara gasped at her friend's forwardness, “Melissa Ann Schemmenti!”

All eyes turned to Janine, who suddenly found herself the centre of attention. Her cheeks flushed pink as she hesitated, her gaze flickering nervously towards Gregory. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her response.

Sensing Janine's discomfort and eager to protect her from potential embarrassment, Gregory attempted to intervene diplomatically. “Um, I think we should stick to something less... revealing,” he suggested, his voice gentle but firm.

But Ava, ever the keen observer, couldn't resist adding fuel to the fire. “What's the matter, Gregory? Could it be that you want to sleep with someone in this room?” Her tone was teasing, yet it carried a hint of genuine curiosity.

“Absolutely not,” Gregory stammered, his voice faltering slightly under the weight of the group's scrutiny. His cheeks matched Janine's in hue as he desperately tried to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.

The tension in the room was immense. Janine, emboldened by a mix of wine and the support of her friends, took a deep breath. “Alright, fine. I'll answer.” Her eyes met Gregory's, and for a moment, the world outside their circle ceased to exist. “If I had to choose... it would be Gregory.”

Everyone went silent, except for Jacob, who practically squealed at the top of his lungs before quickly covering his mouth with his palm to silence himself.

Gregory's eyes widened, but a small, pleased smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Trying to regain some semblance of normalcy, he chuckled nervously. “Well, I suppose that's flattering,” he said, his voice light despite the redness in his cheeks.

Melissa, satisfied with the stir she had caused, leaned back with a grin. “See? That wasn't so bad, was it?” she quipped, winking at Janine, thereafter exchanging a knowing glance with you.

As the game of truth or dare continued to unfold around the group, Janine turned her attention to you. “Truth or dare?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Hmm, let's go with truth,” you respond.

Janine leaned forward, her expression turning serious for a moment as she formulated her question. “What’s your type? For dating and stuff,” she asked, her curiosity evident as if she were mentally preparing to take notes for a future blind date setup.

“I guess I would say I like women who are older than me, who are direct and forward with what they want,” you replied. “Red hair would be a bonus,” you added boldly, feeling Melissa's eyes staring a hole into the side of your head.

“Good to know,” Janine replied, nodding thoughtfully.

After a few moments of jovial discussion, it was your turn to ask the next question. You turned to Gregory, catching his eye. “Gregory, truth or dare?” you inquired, a hint of slyness in your tone.

“Dare,” he replied slowly, hesitancy evident in his voice as if he were unsure if he had chosen wisely.

You took this as an opportunity to push your friends into making a move. “I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with Janine,” you said, mirth in your eyes. “In the closet over there,” you added, glancing meaningfully towards the hallway closet.

Gregory just stared at you, clearly caught off guard, but before he could fully process the dare, Janine jumped up from her seat, a determined look on her face. She grabbed his arm and, with a mix of eagerness and nerves, wordlessly dragged him towards the closet. “See you all in seven minutes,” she called back over her shoulder, her voice carrying a note of awkward excitement as she closed the closet door a little louder than necessary.

The room buzzed with suspense as the closet door clicked shut. The minutes began to tick by, each one stretching longer than the last. What was supposed to be a brief interlude felt like an eternity, their prolonged absence not going unnoticed.

After some time had passed, Ava glanced at her phone, which had been set to time the dare. The seven minutes were up, but there was no sign of Janine and Gregory emerging from the closet. “So, uh, should we go check on them?” Ava suggested, her tone betraying a hint of jealousy towards Janine.

“Leave the kids alone, Ava,” Barbara replied with a chuckle, her voice laced with a touch of affectionate exasperation.

Jacob, unable to contain his excitement, practically floated out of the loveseat he was sitting on. “Yeah, Ava, we’ve been waiting for this moment since the first day Gregory walked into Abbott.”

Melissa raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “The first day they met, Jacob? That sounds a little exaggerated, don’t ya think?”

“Nope, Mel, he’s actually been their number-one shipper since Gregory started as a sub. It seems like he manifested this one,” you chuckled, remembering all the times Jacob had subtly tried to push Janine and Gregory together.

“Damn, impressive,” Melissa laughed, glancing at the closet with a mixture of intrigue and curiosity.

Suddenly, a loud bang echoed from the closet, startling everyone. Barbara, always the voice of dramatic humour, rose from her seat, raising both hands in the air. “Praise Jesus!” she exclaimed, her tone exasperated as she imagined the origin of the sound.

Melissa, still chuckling, added, “No but seriously, if they take any longer, we might have to send a search party.”

Just then, the closet door slowly creaked open, and Janine and Gregory emerged, their faces flushed and their gaze avoidant. Janine’s hair was tousled, and her buttons were done up haphazardly, one conspicuously lower than the others. You noticed but kept quiet, already plotting to share the details with Melissa later, once Janine and Gregory had left the room.

The atmosphere turned tense, and an awkward silence settled over the room. Janine, attempting to maintain composure, offered a sheepish grin. “Well, I can confirm there are definitely enough coats in there,” she joked, eliciting a wave of relieved laughter.

“and we made sure they were all in order,” Gregory added in an attempt to back up Janine.

Jacob, unable to resist, let out a loud whistle, “It’s about time!” His comment was met with another round of laughter, while Janine and Gregory ducked their heads, trying to hide their embarrassment.

As the game died down and the group hung out for a bit, Barbara eventually announced, “It’s time I head back for the night. My dear Gerald is waiting for me,” Rising from her seat, she began to tidy up, gathering rubbish and ensuring it was all tossed into the trash before turning back to the group.

“Same here. I’m heading to a club after this—gotta run,” Ava chimed in, standing up with a sense of urgency. She walked over to the closet to grab her coat but hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob. Memories of the evening’s earlier events seemed to give her pause. Jacob, however, was quick and confident. He opened the door, grabbed his coat, and turned back to the group.

“See ya, folks!” Jacob called out cheerfully. As Gregory looked away to put his shoes on, Jacob leaned towards Janine and mouthed, “I’m so proud of you! You need to tell me everything,” his voice barely above a whisper. Jacob had perfected the art of whisper yelling, and though Gregory pretended not to notice, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

As the others began to file out the door, you felt a pang of sadness in your chest—you didn’t want this night to end. Melissa’s presence had a way of making you feel whole; you never wanted to leave. Summoning a bit of courage, you turned to Melissa and asked, “Hey Mel, need some help cleaning up?” You glanced at her, hoping she would say yes. “I can stay for a bit,” you added, trying to sound casual.

“I won’t force ya, but since you’re offerin’...” Melissa replied with a warm smile.

As everyone departed, Barbara, the final one to leave, extended her gratitude. “It was a delightful evening, Melissa. Thank you.”

Just before closing the door behind her, she turned and winked at you, a knowing look in her eyes.

And alas, as the game came to an end, the house quieted, leaving you and Melissa alone in the aftermath. Empty glasses and scattered snacks littered the coffee table, remnants of a night well-enjoyed.

“Whew, what a night! Thanks for hosting, Mel,” you said, breaking the silence as you began to help her tidy up.

Melissa grinned warmly, her eyes twinkling with residual amusement. “No problem. As much as I hate to admit it, I enjoy when this crew gets together.”

“I may have had a little fun setting up Janine and Gregory with you,” Melissa confessed, a knowing smirk on her lips.

You chuckled, “I noticed that. Hopefully, it works out for them.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Melissa replied. She turned to her liquor cabinet and asked, “Want another drink?” as she pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

“I can’t say no to that,” you replied, crossing the room to join her. Melissa poured the drink into two glasses and extended one to you. Balancing the broom in your other hand, you accepted it graciously. As you took the glass, your fingers lightly brushed against hers, sending a warm sensation up your arm.

“Thanks, Mel,” you said appreciatively.

“No problem, Tesoro,” Melissa responded, the pet name rolling off her tongue. Oh, what Melissa calling you ‘Tesoro’ does to you—you could die in peace.

The continued gentle rustle of cleaning up punctuated the comfortable silence between you, a silence that spoke volumes of the easy familiarity and unspoken bond you shared.

“You know,” you began with a chuckle, breaking the quiet that had settled between you, “I've gotta admit, that game was way more fun than I expected.”

Melissa nodded in agreement, “I can't argue with that. It was quite the night.”

Melissa chuckled, shaking her head. “So, what do you think happened in the closet?”

You playfully smacked Melissa in the arm with the back of your hand. “I don't want to know.”

Melissa laughed at your reaction, the sound warm and infectious. “Oh, come on, you can't tell me you're not at least a little curious,” she teased, her eyes dancing with mischief.

You shrugged, trying to maintain a serious expression but failing miserably. “Maybe a tiny bit,” you admitted, your lips twitching into a smile. “But I also value my peace of mind.”

Melissa shook her head, still chuckling. “Fair enough.”

Once the living room was back in order, Melissa glanced around, a satisfied smile on her face. “I think we did a pretty good job,” she said, turning to you.

“Definitely,” you replied.

“Hey, can I ask you somethin'?” Melissa's voice broke the quiet, her tone softer now, tinged with curiosity.

“Sure thing. What's on your mind?” you replied, genuine interest in your voice as you turned your body to give her your full attention.

Melissa hesitated for a heartbeat, her gaze holding yours with a mix of whimsy and something deeper. “Have you ever kissed a woman?”

Your laughter caught in your throat. “I thought we were done with truth or dare,” you teased lightly, a smirk quirking on your lips. “But uh, yeah I have, why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” Melissa replied casually, her gaze dropping and lingering on your lips for a moment longer than strictly necessary. “Nothin' wrong with a little curiosity, right?…” Her eyes met yours again, a new intensity in her gaze. “Now, truth or dare?”

You played along, your curiosity piqued and a sense of expectation settling in. “Dare.”

“Kiss me,” Melissa challenged, her voice dropping to a whisper, a roguish spark in her eye.

As Melissa's challenge hung in the air, a charged silence enveloped the room—you couldn't help but play along.

“Mel… Are you sure you could handle it?” you teased, your voice laced with mock incredulity. The corner of your lips twitched upward in a half-smile.

“Oh, you'd be surprised, sweetheart,” Meissa replied, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. With a confident smirk, she leaned in closer to you, her movements slow and deliberate, drawing out the tension. You glanced down at her lips before your eyes flicked closed. Melissa's fingertips traced a delicate path along your jawline, her touch feather-light yet electrifying. A gentle caress lingered on your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin in a silent promise of intimacy.

As your noses brushed, your own hands found their way naturally, one sliding around her waist to pull her closer, while the other tangled in the soft waves of her auburn hair. The strands were silken beneath your touch, inviting a deeper connection as you threaded your fingers through them, savouring the sensation.

As Melissa's lips finally met yours, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the heat of the moment and the taste of her on your tongue. The kiss was tender yet fervent, a meeting of souls that spoke of years of friendship blossoming into something more. When you parted your lips to allow Melissa better access; she took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, her tongue gently exploring yours. A suppressed moan escaped the back of your throat, which edged Melissa on even further. Her hands mirrored your own, her touch exploring the contours of your back, drawing you nearer in a silent plea for closeness.

Entwined in each other's embrace, the kiss deepened, fueled by a mutual hunger that transcended words. Melissa's fingers trailed down your spine, leaving a tingling trail of sensation in their wake, while your grip tightened in her hair, pulling her impossibly closer.

As you both began to run out of breath, you attempted to pull back, but Melissa held you close with a gentle bite on your lip. A breathless moan escaped your lips as she finally released your lip. “Mel…” her name escaped her lips as you attempted to catch your breath. “Truth or dare?” you state.

Melissa raised a brow at you as if challenging you. “Dare,” she stated confidently.

“I dare you to take me to your bedroom,” you said, your tone serious. At that moment, you didn’t care that she was your coworker–you only cared about her.

Melissa stared at you with dilated pupils, wordlessly accepting the challenge. She let out a breathy laugh and grabbed your wrist, leading you swiftly to her bedroom. Once inside, she pushed you against the door, causing you to gasp in surprise as it slammed shut.

“You're quite the eager one, aren't you?” she teased, her voice low.

Your stomach fluttered as you chuckled nervously. “Is that really such a bad thing?” you managed to ask.

“No, hun. Definitely not,” she replied, her thigh pressing between your legs as she leaned in to kiss your neck. You tilted your head back, offering her better access, and tangled your fingers in her auburn hair, urging her closer. She left a trail of wet kisses along your neck before nibbling on your earlobe, eliciting a suppressed moan from your lips.

“Now, truth or dare?” Melissa whispered huskily.

“Dare,” you responded, your voice shaky with desire.

“Take off your shirt for me,” Melissa demanded, her eyes fixed on you with admiration.

With shaking hands, you slowly unbuttoned your shirt, Melissa watching you closely. With trembling hands, you continued, aware of her intense gaze roaming over your exposed skin. “Good girl,” she murmured, her knuckles trailing lightly down your arm. Her compliment sent a thrill through you, validating your vulnerability

“You're so beautiful,” she added softly.

“Thank you,” you managed to reply, your emotions swirling as you stood half-naked before her.

“M-Mel, truth or dare?” you asked her, your voice coming out stuttered as you were falling apart in front of her.

“Dare,” she replied, her own voice husky with desire.

“Fuck me,” you blurted out, your need for her overriding any hesitation.

Melissa's eyes darkened with desire as she closed the distance between you, her lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. Her hands roamed your body, exploring every inch with a deliberate slowness that drove you wild. The intensity of her touch ignited a fire within you, and you responded eagerly, your hands tugging her closer.

Melissa's lips pressed firmly against yours, the kiss deepening as her tongue teased your mouth open, tangling with yours in a dance of raw desire. You moaned into her mouth, your body arching into her touch, craving more.

She pulled back slightly, her breath hot against your lips. “You’re so perfect,” she murmured, her eyes drinking in every inch of your exposed skin. Her hands moved to your bra, deftly unhooking it and tossing it aside. She cupped your breasts, her thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

She guided you to the bed, pushing you gently onto the soft mattress. Hovering above you, she looked into your eyes, her gaze filled with a mixture of passion and tenderness. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice a seductive whisper.

“Yes,” you breathed out, the word barely audible as your heart pounded in your chest.

She undid your pants and slid them down your legs.

Her touch was electric, each caress and squeeze making you gasp and writhe beneath her. Melissa’s eyes never left yours, the intensity of her gaze adding to the thrill of the moment. She leaned down, her lips closing around one nipple, sucking and nibbling gently. You cried out, your hands tangling in her hair, urging her closer.

Melissa’s smile was both reassuring and wicked as she began to undress, her movements deliberate and tantalising. You watched in awe as she revealed her body, each piece of clothing discarded with purpose. When she was finally as bare as you, she climbed onto the bed, straddling your hips.

“F-fuck, you're so beautiful,” you let out, your voice tinged with admiration and desire.

Melissa's grin widened at your words, her eyes revealing her arousal. She leaned down, brushing her lips against yours in a soft, teasing kiss. “Glad you think so,” she murmured huskily, her breath warm against your ear.

Her hands continued their exploration, caressing your skin and sending shivers down your spine. Her lips followed, leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone and down your chest. You moaned softly, your body arching into her touch, craving more of her.

“Tell me what you want,” Melissa commanded, her voice low and commanding.

“I want you,” you replied, your voice trembling with desire. “I want to feel you inside me.”

Melissa slid off your underwear, her fingers caressing the skin of your thighs. She lowered her face near your core, her tongue flicking out to taste you. She looked up at you, her eyes burning with desire. “You’re so wet for me,” she murmured, her breath hot against your sensitive skin. She pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, her tongue flitting over your folds, teasing you with each movement.

“Melissa, please…” you whimpered, your body tensing in anticipation.

“Please what?” Melissa teased, her voice a seductive whisper as her breath ghosted over your skin. She knew what you wanted but wanted to hear you beg for it.

You were writhing beneath her, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Melissa, please, I need you inside me… right now.”

Melissa did not hesitate. Her mouth found your clit, and she began to suck gently at first, then more urgently. “Oh fuck,” you gasped, gripping the sheets of Melissa’s bed. Her fingers began pumping inside you in a slow, steady rhythm. You moaned loudly, your hips grinding against her mouth, the pleasure building with each thrust of her fingers, each flick of her tongue.

“God, you feel so good,” Melissa murmured against your clit, her voice husky with satisfaction. Her breath hitting your most sensitive area caused you to arch your back. Her movements grew more urgent, her fingers pumping faster, her mouth working you closer and closer to the edge.

The world around you blurred as you lost yourself in the moment, your senses consumed by the pleasure she was giving you. The tension built higher and higher until, with a final, powerful thrust, you shattered, a scream of ecstasy tearing from your throat as you climaxed. “Oh, God!” you cried out. Your breathing quickened and grew uneven, your abdomen and thighs tightening as pleasure washed over you.

“You're doing so good,” Melissa stated, her voice filled with a mixture of pride and affection.

As the waves of your climax subsided, Melissa gently pulled back, her fingers sliding out of you with a tenderness that made your heart swell. She then brought her fingers to her lips, sucking them clean with a slow, deliberate motion. Afterward, she lay down beside you, her body enveloping yours in a protective embrace. You nestled into her, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours, both of you breathing heavily. For a moment, there was only silence, the aftermath of your shared passion hanging in the air.

“You okay?” Melissa asked softly, her hand brushing your hair back from your forehead.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice still a little shaky. “That was… amazing.”

Melissa grinned and kissed your temple. “You were incredible,” she murmured. “So beautiful and responsive. I'm really proud of you.”

You felt a rush of warmth at her words, a mix of pride and contentment. “Thanks,” you whispered, snuggling closer to her.

Melissa pulled a soft blanket over both of you, tucking you in snugly. She rubbed soothing circles on your back, her touch gentle and reassuring. “Just relax,” she said calmly. “Let me take care of you.”

You sighed contentedly, your body relaxing into the mattress. “I feel so safe with you,” you admitted softly.

“And I with you,” Melissa replied warmly.

Melissa chuckled softly. “You've got me,” she reassured you. “Always.”

The two of you lay there in a comfortable silence, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like a cocoon. Melissa's fingers continued their gentle caress, her touch a reminder of the connection you shared.

The room was filled with a sense of peace and contentment as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms, the afterglow of your shared passion and the comfort of your mutual care creating a perfect moment of closeness and love.

It’s safe to say that truth or dare had been long forgotten.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x y/n #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti fanfic #fanfic #smut #wlw #x reader

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lovecuprite · 2 months ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆ any pov ʚɞ just some gojo fluff with little megumi too (wc: 928)

The night was perfectly set for a horror movie marathon. The rain hitting the window and the dim light from the TV that flickered across the living room, created an atmosphere that was cosy and perfect for the night. Satoru and you had planned this night for some time now, eager to get some alone time, since both of your work schedules were busy and it was hard to find time to be together.

The movie was tense; the two of you wrapped under blankets: you jumping to every sudden noise and jump scare on screen and Satoru chuckling at your reactions. "You're way too easy to scare," he said playfully, nudging you.

"Really? 'Cause you scream pretty quick too-" You shot back, a mock look of offence on your face.

While you were keeping yourself hidden behind the cushion, nervously preparing for the next jump scare, you noticed movement from the corner of your eye. You turned your head to see Megumi's little face peeking around the door. His big curious eyes were wide, and for a moment, he looked torn between fear and intrigue.

“Megumi!” You exclaimed softly, putting the cushion down as you paused the TV. “What are you doing up? You should be in bed!” you chuckle lightly as you look over at the little boy.

He hesitated, looking between you and the TV screen. “I want to join movie night,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru exchanged a knowing glance with you, as his gaze softened. “Hey, buddy,” he said gently. “This movie isn’t for you. It’s pretty scary, you know?”

Megumi’s face scrunched up in confusion, a mix of wanting to be brave and not wanting to miss out. “But I want to watch!”

You chuckled softly, though your heart melted at his earnest expression. “How about we turn it off? It’s really not the right kind of movie for little eyes.”

“Yeah, we don’t want you having nightmares,” Satoru added, his tone light but sincere. “Don’t want you hogging my bed again like last time you got scared.” he joked.

Megumi frowned, clearly disappointed, but he slowly stepped into the living room, moving closer as he looked up at you. “Can I sit with you?”

“It’s past your bed-”

“Of course!” you said, opening your arms invitingly. He climbed onto the couch and nestled against you, his small form fitting perfectly in your lap. You wrapped the blanket around him, shielding him from the chill of the room.

With the horror film officially out of the cards, Satoru reached for the remote and flipped through the channels until he landed on a cartoon. The bright colours lightening the room along with the cheerful animations that quickly turned Megumi’s frown into a smile.

“You said I could join next time they came over….” Megumi mumbled.

“You could try and hide your favouritism, you know?” Satoru jokes as he leans over to ruffle the boy's hair.

You playfully roll your eyes as you find yourself watching the kids show, “This is much better than that movie anyway.”

Megumi giggled, his previous unease forgotten as he became mesmerised by the action on the screen. You felt a warmth blossom in your chest, watching the joy on Megumi’s face was far more rewarding than any jump scare.

Satoru settled in beside you, leaning back against the sofa, a soft smile on his lips as he watched you and Megumi. It was one of those rare moments when he seemed completely at ease.

“I guess this is a family night instead, huh?” Satoru remarked, his tone playful but affectionate.

“Definitely'” you agreed, tucking a stray hair behind Megumi’s ear as he leaned back against you, body growing heavier as he watched the screen tiredly. You both knew he would be asleep again in the next few minutes but he always liked interrupting yours and Satoru’s alone time and as much as Satoru joked about it, he wouldn’t change it for anything.

As the cartoon played on, you could see Satoru’s gaze drift from the screen to you, a soft, almost wistful look crossing his features. “You know,” he said quietly, “sometimes I think this is what family is really about.”

You turned to him, curious. “What do you mean?”

He glanced down at Megumi, whose eyes were now closing. “Growing up, I never really had this. I was always on my own, just doing my thing. But seeing you two together… it makes me feel whole in a way I never experienced before.”

Your heart swelled at his words. "We're lucky to have you, you know. Especially Megs"

Satoru's smile grew, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you like a cosy blanket. "And I'm lucky to have you both."

Satoru shifted closer, his arm tightening around you both, anchoring himself to the moment. The gentle rise and fall of Megumi's breathing, the low hum of the cartoon, the way Satoru looked at you so lovingly, it was all home.

“I never imagined I’d have this”, Satoru whispered so as not to wake Megumi. "But I'm so glad that I do.”

You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze. His usual cocky demeanour was replaced by something more vulnerable.

"Me too" you whispered back, smiling softly at him. "I’m happy he’s accepted me"

He nodded, drifting back to Megumi. “And as much as he interrupts our date nights, I am too.” Satoru added with a playful glint in his eyes, “You two are my home.” he said tenderly, a loving look in his eyes as they met yours.

#ʚɞ writings #jjk #gojo satoru #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #satoru x reader #megumi fushiguro

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 3 months ago

Note

Hi Mouse! Could you pretty please write some general romantic headcanons for the bachelors. No in particular just stuff like how they romance the farmer and what they do as a couple. Thanks!

Sure thing, dear anon! Thanks for your ask, enjoy some headcanons!🫰💕

_________________________________________

Some romantic SDV bachelors x Farmer headcanons:

Elliott:

Letters. Many, many love letters, and not just any love letters. Every letter must be perfect, every word must convey the love that Elliott feels for Farmer. Even the paper must be of high quality and pleasant to the touch. There's a whole ritual involved, because it's for Farmer, after all.

Elliott loves to take Farmer for a walk on the sandy shore just as much as he loves to sit with them in the Saloon with a bottle of wine. Still prefers the walks more, though, as they are alone together and without any noise other than the sounds of the sea waves and seagulls singing.

One of their special pastimes together is leaving seashells in the sand. Yes, that's right, not collecting them, but spreading them out so the hermit crabs can find a home and not use plastic cups for that. Farmer and Elliott sign the shells and take a photo as another crab has found a shell. It's very sweet, really.

There probably isn't a day that goes by that Elliott doesn't tell Farmer that they are the love of his life. Of course, Farmer knows this and loves just as much, but Elliott just adores his partner. He likes to back up his words of adoration with lots of gifts too: some small but nice things that are sure to please Farmer.

Sam:

Given Sam's love for music and his excellent skill in playing the guitar, Farmer will hear many serenades dedicated to them. And it's not just guitar music, it's also a whole song that Sam will sing with his beautiful voice. Just like in the novel, honestly.

Tickle war! The perfect excuse for Sammy to fool around with Farmer and hear their beautiful, ringing laughter. Especially when his partner is sad or moody for whatever reason. A grumpy Farmer in his sight? The heck, Illegal for him! So Sam will take matters into his own hands and cheer up Farmer. He won't be mean about it (maybe~).

Generally, Sam is all for any kind of time with his partner, but probably his favourite is just lying on the grass on a summer afternoon with Farmer and looking at the clouds. Pointing a finger at the sky and convincing Farmer that that cloud looks exactly like a pizza, and feigning offence when Farmer laughs at him because he "sees pizza everywhere". Just a lazy day together, away from problems and things to do.

Physical attention is integral when it comes to expressing Sam's love for Farmer: holding hands, hugs (a lot) and kisses on the cheek and lips (even more). He's a fan of PDA and is ready to talk non-stop about how much he loves Farmer, wrapping them up in a tight embrace.

Harvey:

Maybe for some people sitting near a fireplace is not considered too special, but even here Harvey managed to create a truly magical and cosy atmosphere. Warm firelight, hot aromatic coffee, comfortable plaid and a lot of pleasant conversations about past moments and plans for the future. Especially when snow is falling outside the window/thunderstorm is raging.

The doctor has already got so good at cooking dinner that Gus has to take him on as an assistant. And some pretty elaborate dishes that are usually served in restaurants. So one of Harvey's love signs is to spoil his partner with a tasty and, importantly, healthy dinner almost every night. (Gus jokingly says that soon the Farmer's will stop visiting Saloon altogether because they have their own skilful chef.)

Likes to make surprises for Farmer. Surprise gift, surprise date - surprises everywhere! There is nothing more satisfying for Harvey than to see his lover's face go from surprise to delight and then tender love when they looked at Harvey again.

Well, where's a romantic time - and without dancing? Robin and Demetrius now have to move aside because there's another lovely couple on the dance floor. Nothing chaotic (especially after a few glasses of fancy vine), but as soon as light jazz plays in the Saloon, Harvey asks his partner for a slow dance. The doctor is still a little shy about dancing among strangers, but Farmer's soft gaze was enough to make all insecurity go away.

Sebastian:

Sebastian will show Farmer all his favourite places with fantastic views. And it's not limited to views of the big metropolis with its neon signs and billboards. Sebby will take Farmer for a ride to, for example, a small clearing near Stardew Valley, where they can both enjoy a beautiful view of the stars without all that light from the houses.

He and his partner also like to visit places they've never been to on his motorbike. Just without thinking, Sebastian and Farmer will go to some random cafe that is rumoured to serve delicious coffee, or to a rare comic book shop in Zuzu City. Leaving the jungle of the metropolis and returning to the more wooded area of Pelican Town.... Heh, and earlier Sebby wanted to escape the small town, but instead found the love of his life.

He enjoys listening to anything Farmer tells him, whether it's a spoiler for a new release of a science fiction film, a new character in their DnD game, or stories about the cows and rabbits on the farm. Honestly, he is willing to listen to Farmer 24 hours a day, and he never gets bored of it.

Romantic frog hunting! Well, "hunt" refers to Sebastian and Farmer walking near the ponds with a camera to look for frogs and toads to take photos. Later, they return home to photoshop the photos and get pictures of the cutest frogs. And memes. Seriously, the toad with eyes - lasers that destroys JojaMart was hilarious that the local emo and Farmer laughed for half a day.

Alex:

It's safe to say that one of Alex's love languages is to constantly ask the Farmer if they need help. Not that he's being so intrusive, no. It's just that the athlete believes that Farmer's problem is now his problem too, and wants to show that they can always count on him if they need anything because he loves them.

Alex loves his date with Farmer at the beach. And he doesn't care too much whether the couple is playing volleyball, swimming in the sea or lounging on a beach rug in the bright sunshine - beach dates are the best! It's even better when access to Ginger Island is open and they can go to the beach every season. Farmer is happy - and that's what matters. The main thing - stock up on plenty of sun cream, otherwise the date will end on a not very pleasant note.

At first Alex didn't do it on purpose, but seeing that his partner would sometimes steal his jumpers and jackets and put them on themself, he started leaving his clothes out in plain sight. It's hard to explain, but he likes to see his beloved Farmer in his clothes, even if it means he's unlikely to see his favourite jumper again.

Although the athlete usually shows simple, one can even say - standard, signs of attention, such as flowers, chocolates, walks in the forest, etc, but he tries to make every day special. Farmer sees their partner's efforts, his love and care, and therefore assures Alex that he is not banal, but a very romantic partner. Real gold (envy silently!).

Shane:

One day Shane saw a tandem bike on TV and thought: heck, why not? He'd like to try something new. It would be both a good ride to burn some calories and a nice time with Farmer. Even his favourite chicken Charlie could sit in a cosy bike basket. Farmer liked the idea too, so Pelican Town will often see these two lovebirds riding their bike (and hear Shane complain that his legs are killing him now).

Amusingly, what would normally be considered just a work, Shane sees as bonding with his partner. Especially taking care of the chickens and making winter preparations like jam and pickled peppers. The constant talking and bantering between these two..... It's so special and beautiful for Shane.

Shane is not at all shy of strangers when it comes to physically expressing his love for Farmer. Hugs and kisses - Shane loves Farmer's attention and showering them with the same attention and love. Lewis, shut up, you're generally afraid to show your relationship with you-know-who. Ha ha, Sam, very funny, expect chilli powder in your lunch. No one dares spoil his moment, got it?

The chicken man also doesn't mind having a game night with Farmer to take their mind off work for a bit. All the delicious (and not too healthy) snacks, drinks, a big screen TV and their favourite video game - in Shane's opinion, not a bad pastime either (which can turn into an even better thing~).

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv shane #sdv sebastian #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv elliott #sdv alex #sdv headcanons #thanks for the ask!

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elioslover · 1 year ago

Text

Masks On (Harry Styles x reader x smut).

Premise: Harry finally visits a sex club and what are the chances, you just so happen to be doing the same thing.

Word Count: 8k+ / Other Writing

Warnings: Smut from start to finish. P in V, Unprotected sex, literally all the sex things, just pure FILTH. Afab 2nd person (minimal OC description).

Also, shout-out to @justmeinatree for the encouragement and @caramello-styles for being such a sweetheart!

🍒

Harry feels the energy shift as soon as he steps out from the mass of thick, velvet curtain that worked to shield the utter filth that lay just beyond. The club- as referred to, looks more like a converted condo, with walls dyed with deep hues, ultraviolet lights instead of harsh bulbs, and purple and red bounce across the room- the floors, the ceilings.

Though the room is busy, everyone is scattered, and it feels spacious enough. Harry observes the array of beds and sofa’s instead of tables and chairs; people are going at it, moans mixing in with the deep bass emitted from nearby speakers.

Patrons- dressed in only bowties and Grecian inspired masks, carrying trays of beverages and sex toys with a formality that seemed foolish for a play like this. The pretty penny Harry had paid to be here was clearly being put to good use.

The entire thing screamed ‘filthy rich fun’, which, even for Harry, seemed almost awestriking; it was the type of elite secrecy one would never dream of, and if he had any doubt about joining this evening, it was erased the minute a waiter appeared before him, offering up a glass of whisky he wasn’t even sure he had ordered.

To be fair, after such an effort to simply enter this place, plenty of hoops to jump through and many questions to be answered and confirmed, it only made sense that the owners would ensure it was more than worth it.

Harry put the crystal to his lips, downing its contents in an anxious bid for comfortability. Instead, it burned at his chest and sent a long shiver down his spine; he shuddered, his skin sprinkled with goosebumps.

Ridding himself of his blazer, white tank top, leather loafers, and other personal belongings when he arrived, assured they would stay safe in his absence, Harry now stands in only a pair of black briefs. They cling to his thighs, pinching at the meaty expanse of his soft skin, diffing into and trapping a few of the hairs growing at the base of his pelvis.

But Harry could be fully nude for all he cares- the platinum, Phantom of the Opera mask that covers the top half of his face and stops at the bridge of his nose has him feeling invincible and fucking frisky. He feels like the god he impersonates, ready to delve into the mass of bodies stroking and loving on one another, his cock twitching against the restricting cotton as confirmation.

The beds are king-sized, holding space for at least four, and a few are evidently occupied by many more than that. Sheer material is draped across the ceilings like a canopy, creating a cosy and inviting atmosphere. Harry heads over to an empty velvet green chaise lounge, plopping down lazily, his legs spread out, thighs splayed, his one arm resting on the armchair, his other palm laying out across his lower stomach.

He turns his attention to the nearest bed, only a meter away, and begins watching as a throuple of two males and a female are switching positions. The girl lays on her stomach, flat against the bed, ass up, as the first man crawls up, spreads her ass cheeks apart and rubs his cock against her once before thrusting himself up into her. They reach a smooth rhythm, skin slapping as the second man lines up behind them, wrapping his arm around the torse of the first man; with a loud moan, the first man bucks forward, only moaning louder as the second man falls into position and starts fucking into him.

Harry hasn’t noticed the way his hand has lowered, palming himself through his briefs, his body shifting to get more comfortable. On the same bed, another couple goes at it, a woman vigorously bouncing atop the cock of a man donned in a lion mask.

In the midst of it all, bodies thrusting and shifting- you are resting sweetly, sitting atop your folded legs, disguised by a black, sequined silver mask, stopping above the nose, your eyes so sharp that Harry spots them immediately, hooked on the way the fluorescent lights flicker the reflection of filth he has succumbed to. His first thought is about who you are, his second is why you’re currently here, and the third is the only one that really matters; how the hell can he get his hands on you?

Dressed in only your underwear, you have had your gaze set on Harry from the moment the curtains had pulled back and revealed him in all of his glory. He was a mass of chocolate curls and tattoos decorating a chiselled and muscular figure that had you wishing you could get your hands on.

For a while, he had seemed nervous, and that only had your curiosity blowing through the roof, your body aching to wrap around any part of him up for grabs. As he made his way over, your heart was in your throat, attention completely thrown from the couple you had intended to participate with just moments prior. They were going at it regardless, bumping up against you, but your focus would be unwavering, your mouth watering at the view of his thighs, thick and spread out just for you.

He seems to be looking your way- maybe just observing the other couples, but something tells you by the way his body shifts, his eyes hidden but holding your own gaze, makes you feel like he might want you just as you want him.

A woman, her hair long and auburn, hidden behind a green dragon mask, drops onto the bed beside you, her knees softly hitting the mattress as she whispers suggestively into the shell of your ear. Cheeks flushed, your gaze remains on Harry, with the way he managed to stir such wanting in you, all by just sitting across the room.

His intrigue seems to pique, waiting to see what your plan was- were you going to entertain the woman next to you? Her cool fingers tickling their way up your spine, your body an eruption of goosebumps.

And you wish he would just come over or that you had the confidence to greet him yourself, but he seems comfortable and unwavering, leaving you to turn your attention back to something actually tangible; the woman currently pressing her lips to the nape of your neck.

Shifting your body to greet her own, you sit up on your knees and boldly wrap your hands like a chain around the back of her neck. She leans into your touch, anticipating your next move, a soft gasp escaping her lips as yours pressed on firmly, tongue licking into her own.

Your eyes have fluttered shut, your body soothed into the sultry kisses sucking at your bottom lip, but your thoughts wander over to the man on the couch, hoping to some god that he might be watching, that he might be regretting the choice to stay put.

Lips parting for deep inhalation, the woman’s hands are soft and static as they trail the soft mounds of your skin, and when your eyes finally open in the hopeful search of the man, you are more than surprised to find him much closer now, standing at the end of the bed.

His gaze is certainly set on your own, and you want to feel bashful at the circumstances, but the erotic stimulation happening all around you and the way Harry is looking at you hungrily, his muscles flexing involuntarily, only dampens your panties further, has your thighs clenching tighter.

He must notice because his pupils are blown, and he is crawling over now, slowly stalking out his prey, happily trapped in the arms of an auburn woman. He is more than welcome, though, your back pressing into the woman's chest, her lips still tickling at your throat, and when he comes to a halt at the base of your knees, you feel zero embarrassment as they part as a welcoming gift, offering him anything he desires.

“Well, hello pretty girl.” He greets, his cock throbbing as your chest raises and you take a sharp inhale, blinking at him in a way that has him feeling like a sinner- and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Hi handsome.” You respond, doing your best to keep your voice from cracking, almost completely distracted by the look of arousal in his eyes that seems to be increasing at just the sound of your voice, like a siren song only luring him further into the ocean in which you resided.

Harry can hardly stop himself from sighing out, from snatching you up and fucking you into submission, instead taking his time in luring you closer, his cock pleased at the ease with which you opened up for him, mind a mess of where to start.

He taps your thigh as an instruction, satisfaction shivering at his spine as you comply, spreading your legs, bum pressed flat to the mattress. Harry can't stop himself from wrapping his palms around your ankles, tugging you forward with enough force to have you exhaling a squeak, the woman’s grip tightening around your chest.

He looks at you like you are supper, his hands trailing their way up your calves, stroking slowly; as he reaches your thighs, he gives them a selfish squeeze, crawling his way over until he is almost face-to-face with the white lace of your panties.

His breath is cool as it fans over the heat of your lower abdomen, legs threatening to quake, and his grip only tightens, his stern stare never wavering, watching your every breath, the way your chest rises and falls in anticipation.

With the gentlest of kisses to your panty-clad crotch, you cannot withhold the deep sigh that slips past your lips, a keen whine whistling its way over to him, his stomach clenching, blood rushing to his cock. Harry’s tongue slips past his plump lips, licking a firm strip up your damp lace, his mouth watering in synch.

His left hand finds a firm home on your hip, helping to keep you pinned between the bed and his touch; his right-hand trails tauntingly along your sternum, fingers dancing into the dip of your belly button, playing your hipbones and pelvis like a harp before a sudden gush of coolness catches you off guard and his thumb hooking into the slit of your panties, tugging them aside in one firm go.

Your eyes widen with lust, unable to look anywhere but at the holy sight below you; the woman cradling your torso presses her lips wherever space omits, travelling in search of the mounds of your breasts, and your entirety is begging to turn to mush in the arms of pleasure as Harry leans forward and gives your pussy the gentlest of kisses, your eyes fluttering shut as he presses another, then another, his tongue joining in to lap at you, dipping into you.

He holds you in place with ease- where the hell would you rather be right now? And as the auburn woman latches her teeth around your pebbled nipple, your leg’s part even further- if possible- prompting Harry to release you from his prior grip, to hold you at the waist, his body pressed into the mattress, his cock flush and swollen from even the slightest of friction.

He can't stop from thrusting forward as a soft mewl slips past the gaps in your teeth, tongue pressing into you, gliding up your slit, flicking at your clit before his free hand cannot help but join the mix, massaging at your inner thigh, teasing at you as you buck your hips up in anticipation.

It's difficult to keep from sighing out in pleasure, but you try your best, harshly capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, tugging harder as Harry continues licking into you, flattening his tongue, flicking it against your clit, dipping into your entrance.

He has died and gone to heaven; his chin is coated in you, glistening under the neon lights, and with one hand still stroking and squeezing at your inner thigh, Harry uses the other to hook into the bands of your panties, hastily guiding them down the hills and valleys of your body and you assist, ass raising from the mattress, balancing on one leg as he slides the material along and off of your skin.

Discarded and dismissed, you are bare and spread for him, a sight Harry will be committing to memory, and he looks at you hungrily- you’re ready to be ravished.

Your pussy is practically dripping, and Harry’s hand must be possessed because it reaches out, and his finger glides through your slit, quickly dampening. The sigh you release is almost sinister, and Harry has his face buried between your thighs in an instant.

With his tongue licking at you, the almost forgotten auburn woman is still trailing kisses along your neck, her fingers tweaking and squeezing at the skin of your breasts. You are officially a mess of pleasure, ready to beg for more- anything- all of him.

It’s like he reads your mind as his fingers start to tease at your pussy, rubbing back and forth, his tongue focusing on your clit, swirling circles, his middle finger slipping past your entrance with such ease that Harry mutters, “fuck me” and lets it slide all the way in, curling upward. With such positive reception from yours truly, he keeps at it, all of his focus dedicated to pleasing you.

With the way his one finger becomes two, pumping into you with such vigour, you are writhing beneath him, thighs threatening to clamp around his head like earmuffs, blocked by his one hand keeping you put.

Your head starts to lull back into the auburn woman’s lap, but Harry is quick to correct this, pulling out his fingers completely, sticky and wet, his mouth changing from loving on you to scolding,

“Uh, uh.” He taunts, his brows furrowed, “Eyes on me, princess.”

You do everything in your power to comply, staring at him with all your might as he gets back to work, a satisfied smile still lingering on his lips as his tongue laps at your pussy, his fingers fucking back into you, curling, picking up the pace.

His fingers are in complete rhythm with his tongue- they are on a mission. And by the sounds currently escaping your lips, chest rising and falling needily, Harry is certainly succeeding.

But each moment that passes is becoming agonizing for him, desperate to substitute his fingers for his cock, currently aching to bury itself inside you.

Harry tries to pacify his cock by grinding up against the mattress, but this only has him moaning against your pussy, which in turn has you doing the same, your hands fisting the sheets.

He can no longer hold on, flattening his tongue to give you one last good licking before he removes his fingers and then himself, leaving you in absolute awe and confusion- a spark of panic flashing across your features.

Harry doesn’t want to startle you, but you can't stop the yelp that escapes you as his hands wrap around your ankles, and with one tug, you are before him, his face aligned with your torso.

He stands, holding out his hand to assist you in doing the same. You do, and once your feet are safely planted on the floor, Harry’s hands are kneading at your waist and hips. He permits you a moment to stabilise before his hands find the back of your thighs, and he hoists you up into your arms, legs wrapping around his waist.

Pussy bare and pressed against his torso, the five-step walk over to the sofa feels endless, so when he finally sits, safely cradling your back, you lower with him, coming to a rest atop his cool thighs, knowing he will be slick with wet by the time you’re finished with him.

Arms wrapped loosely across his shoulders, your fingers play with the loose curls at the base of his neck, and you lean, the outline of your mask bumping up against his own as you finally retrieve what you’ve been after all along, pressing your lips to his, tongue taking out all of your prior frustrations as it tangles with his own, scrapes along his teeth, traps and tugs his bottom lip until he is left begging for breath, lips plump and freshly-stung.

Going in for more, your palms find the sides of his face, sandwiching him between lustrous kisses, your chest pressing to his own, a whine bubbling at your throat when his grip tightens, holding you hostage and creating a gap just small enough for his hands to slip from their place on your back and to cup your breasts, squeezing and palming them as his tongue continues to lap at your own.

With the feeling of your nipples perking up so nicely beneath his thumbs, Harry cannot resist the urge to start trailing sloppy kisses along the nape of your neck, your clavicle, his open mouth leaving a trail as it makes its way down your chest, his tongue licking at the valley of your breasts before his lips finally catch your nipple, flicking at it, your body arching back desperately, pleading for more.

With a harsh nip, his tongue soothes your swollen skin, his hands squeezing at the mounds of your breasts, and your body has a mind of its own now, jutting up against him, your pussy sad to be met with only the friction of his briefs, desperate to grind your wetness across his cock, feel him slipping between your folds.

After the third time, your body glides down into contact with his own, a frustrated sigh slipping past your lips; Harry seems to catch on and woefully unlatches his mouth from your skin, but with more than just happiness, he shifts beneath you- and you also shift to allow him better access- his fingers hooking into the bands of his briefs, tugging them down in one swift motion to settle around his mid-thighs.

His cock springs up, swollen with relief and flush with freedom. Your gaze never wavers, hyper-focused on how pretty the man sitting beneath yours truly is- all of him is just too good to be true at this point.

You want to spend eternity, or at least a moment, marvelling and taking him all in, but he is closer than ever, and your pussy is clenching at just the sight of him- practically screeching to have him buried deep inside you.

With that, you reach out and give him one mandatory stroke, to soothe both him and yourself, and by the way his mouth parts, his eyes hooded, body jolting and then relaxing back into your touch, you sling your leg over his lap to straddle him, his face level with your chest, his hands instinctively coming to a rest on the pillows of your hips.

Your arms become a noodle around his neck like in preparation for dancing the salsa, your hips rocking forward without hesitation, pussy skating along the length of his shaft, leaving him slick with just one stroke.

Harry doesn’t even try to stop the string of mutters he sings out into the crevasse of your breasts, breath fanning chills all along your skin just as your hips buck again, sliding up against him, squeaking out as the tip of his cock rubs up against your clit.

You push on into an agonisingly slow rhythm, dragging out each stroke until Harry is so frustrated that he works extra hard to avoid rutting up into you- oddly satisfied letting you take the lead- so his mouth begins leaving sloppy kisses along your chest, your shoulders, the creases of your neck. And whilst the idea of holding onto this sense of control was something you really wanted to indulge in, you cannot stop your body from picking up speed, ever so slightly upping the rhythm.

Harry is struggling to keep himself from turning the two of you over and fucking you into the sofa cushions, taking out his agitation by unexpectedly spitting on your chest, and both of your gazes drop to watch as the dribble of spit travels like a delicate stream down the valley of your breasts, meandering towards your bellybutton.

You rut up against him with force now, pupils swelled and hungry. At the last minute, Harry commands his pelvis not to thrust, taking a section of skin on your breast between his front teeth, nipping and sucking at it until it stings, giving you one last tug before pulling back, his tongue slipping out to softly lap at the blooming bruise. Tiny and speckled with red and purple, this mark will serve as a reminder of the scandalous events of this evening.

More so, this mark is the last straw, your lips angrily finding his own, tongues arguing for domination- Harry’s succumbs the second one of your hands reaches down between your laps, grabbing at his cock and guiding him into you without a second thought.

You take him in with ease, but he is a stretch the further you slide down on him, your belly feeling full as your body finally comes to a sitting on his cock. Harry’s head has tilted back, his eyes fluttering open and shut.

He wants to thrust up, he wants to watch your breasts and body bounce about atop of his cock, needs to see the way your skin jiggles and stretches for him, the way your face crinkles up in pleasure and satisfaction… but Harry lets you do anything you want, lets himself be at your mercy.

And fuck, you make the idea of losing control feel really good, raising your body until only his tip remains inside of you, threatening to leave him out in the cold, but at the last moment, you grind back down, letting him fill you up gluttonously, easily finding a groove, your backside slapping against his thighs, skin-to-skin creating the beat of a drum, and with each smack, you only want to go faster, harder, unable to resist the need to tease and drag things out.

Harry is a mess of moans, only making you feel like you are being cheered on during a marathon, encouraging you to up your stamina and reach the finish line in record time. His hands are all over you, tugging you closer, one hand wrapping tighter around your waist, guiding you up and down his cock, desperate to hear you whine louder, to let others know how good it felt to be riding him. And you want everyone to know, too; you want them to know that they could all leave, and you would be more than happy to just let Harry spend the rest of the evening fucking you into a semi-permanent coma.

Harry shifts, spreading his legs to offer you a new angle, ready to drool as a dragged-out sigh slips out from deep within you, and he knows he’s just hit a good spot.

So, as any good boy would, Harry bucks up into you again and again, motivated by each moan, putting his all into making you sing for him, your hand digging into his biceps, then his back, down his torso, squeezing at his thighs as your stomach starts to clench, heart rate picking up and when you start to feel lightheaded, you welcome the wave of euphoria threatening to wash over- you hear nothing but the soft praises Harry mutters for your pleasure, your body grinding down on his pelvis desperately chasing your high, whining out as his hand spreads your cheeks, guiding you through a long-anticipated orgasm.

Coming down, your head slumps against his damp shoulder, cheek pressing into his warm, soft skin. You can hear his heartbeat; it’s as fast as your own- if not faster; his breaths are scattered, and Harry wonders what will happen next.

He wants to revel in the moment but is hit with disappointment as you slowly and carefully guide him out of you, and he wants to hiss out at the cruel loss of contact.

Your leg swings over and off of his lap, standing tall and gazing down at him with a curious brow furrow that has Harry ready to question his entire existence, but when your arm extends out to him, offering to wrap his hand in your own, Harry feels butterflies beating at his belly, and he accepts in an instant, ridding himself of his briefs, tossing them aside with little to no regard before grabbing your hand, feeling fuzzy at the visual of how small it looks cradled in his own.

Trailing behind you, willing to let you drag him just about anywhere, it seems you have targeted a bed sitting empty in a quaint corner of the room.

But your ass is bouncing with each step you take, and with gravity offering him such a gracious gift, Harry's hand reaches out with the need to grab, settling with a soft slap to your left cheek, a chuckle slipping past his lips as you let out a little whimper of surprise, body jolting forward, thighs jiggling for his absolute pleasure, and all thoughts of the bed are forgotten as Harry pushes your bodies into the nearest pillars. The look in your eyes adjusts from surprise to arousal at the newfound feeling of your body being backed up into the icy marble, turning into a tornado as Harry's simmering skin keeps you mounted like a shiny trophy.

Harry thinks he's really got you now, your skin so silky, your muscles contracting against his own, keening into his hold, lashes batting up at him like he holds the keys to the garden of Eden; with softness, he presses a breathy kiss to your own parted lips, and now that he has you so perfect and patient, he hasn't the faintest clue where to start.

It would be polite to give him a moment to gather his thoughts, perhaps plot his next move, but you know exactly what you want- no, need- next, and with Harry's head so preoccupied with the idea of you that his hold isn't strong enough to stop you from slipping out from his trap, turning around, your palms pressing flat to your chest as you gift him a gentle, but firm push, his back smacking into the same marble you had just escaped.

Harry feels awestruck, unsure what to think, but his cock is certainly pleased, throbbing at the unfamiliar shift in dynamic, desperate to see what you might do next. And when his eyes, swollen with lust, focus on your own, there is a glimmer of certainty that has him almost keeling over; the need to get on his knees and beg for you is killing him.

But it seems that you are the one who will be on your knees as you keep one palm against his chest, unsure of whether he's willing to stay put, and your body drops to the floor, knees happily greeting the tiles.

With your left hand still holding him in place and your right hand coming to a rest on his waist, fingers squeezing into his fleshy cheeks, Harry's head lulls black in bliss, throat bobbing, both of his hands casting a shadow over your own, wrapping around your wrists like pretty bracelets.

Leaning forward ever so sweetly, your lips pucker and place a polite kiss on the tip of his cock. Harry's hips buck forward without his consent, and your hand leaves his chest, gliding lazily down his torso until it comes to rest on his shaft.

Thoughts of how perfectly he fits between your fingers are blurring your vision, but at the sound of Harry pathetically hissing from above, your grip tightens, body shuffling closer, his own hand settling like a scarf around the back of your neck. His hand stays statuesque, unsure of pushing your boundaries and frightened of catching your hair in one of his many rings. But when you reassuringly nuzzle your crown into his palm, Harry finally relaxes, his fingers- still carefully- slip into and massage the hair at the base of your neck.

You’ve got him right where you want him, and there’s no time to waste as you close the last of any remaining space, bowing forward and closing in like at communion, mouth opening, ready for the catholic wafer but instead closing your lips over the tip of his cock, your tongue darting out to swirl at his head and loving the way he tries to resist bucking into you, stop himself from hitting the back of your throat.

Just the idea has you dripping, fulfilling the desire to take him further in your mouth, your free hand slowly pumping his cock, holding him in place as you suck him, slowly taking in as much as you can manage before slowly pulling back, letting your tongue trail along his shaft in your wake.

Right as Harry begins to fear that you might release and leave him high and dry, you swallow him again, bobbing and creating a rhythm, a small sliver of spit slipping past your lips as you take him as far as your mouth will permit, tongue lapping at him, your hand pumping the base of him as Harry huffs and puffs above you.

And when you can’t help but glance up at him from beneath hooded lashes, the way Harry cusses out and rolls his head back against the pillar is enough to have you picking up the pace, swallowing him with vigour, desperately trying to fit as much of him possible into the hollows of your cheeks.

Slowly, your head begins to bob, taking all of his cock in before pulling back, then again, and again, your hand still pumping him, spit gliding along his shaft and soaking your fingers.

You release his cock from your mouth, still gliding your hand back and forth, pumping him and peering up at him with doe-like eyes.

“Fuck.” Harry whines, the back of his head bumping against the pillar, “Y’gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

With a mischievous grin, you place a gentle but menacing kiss on the tip of his cock before flattening your tongue and licking his shaft from base to tip before taking all of him in your mouth once more, creating the perfect rhythm, your other hand leaving his thigh and cupping around his balls, massaging him, head grooving up and down his cock. Harry is a complete mess, his muscles flexing with each suck and release.

You guide his cock to the hollow of your left cheek, brushing him against your mouth before ever-so-softly gliding his head along your bottom teeth and rubbing him against your right cheek. He is still moaning above you, and when you suddenly tilt forward and take him so deep that his cock brushes the back of your throat, Harry is cussing out, his hand tightening around the base of your neck.

You lean your head back into his palm as a form of encouragement, and Harry thinks you may be the most perfect creature of planet Earth itself. He cautiously begins guiding your head, testing the waters as he becomes a guide for his cock, sliding into your mouth.

Happy to oblige, you try to remain as still as possible, your pussy throbbing each time he brushes against your throat, and when you almost gag, Harry has officially died and gone to heaven. His pace quickens, forcefully- but so carefully- bucking into you, loving how soft and plump your lips are, how well you take him- how deep.

The thought of his cum dripping down your chin has him in utter shambles, and that is not how he wants this evening to go- yet. So, with one last thrust and grunt, he ruefully removes himself, hissing at the rush of cool air that greets his tip and almost crying at the sight of the string of spit connecting from your lips and his cock.

Using the back of your hand to dismiss the spit, you peer up at him curiously, rather proud of your work but still hoping to have more of him.

Harry guides your head as a gesture, hissing at the rush of air that greets the tip of his cock, and this only causes his impulses to increase- so, as soon as you have found your feet and are looking up at him with blown-out pupils and puffy pink lips, Harry finally reclaims control, his hands wrapping you up and spinning you around in one swift motion and you are now facing the pillar, your palms pressing flat against the cool surface.

His hands find your hips, thumbs pressing into your fleshy skin and, on instinct, your back arches, ass desperate to press up against him. Harry releases his right hand from your hip, wrapping it around his stiff shaft and guiding it towards your entrance. Ass up, spine curved, your breasts press into the icy pillar, your body scooting up against the pelvis, and when the head of his cock glides along your pussy, just stopping short of your entrance, you moan out enthusiastically.

Harry gives you one last tease, his tip slipping into you before pulling back out, but before you have the opportunity to whine out, he thrusts into you, and instead, you arch out for him even more, sighing out, breasts squishing into the pillar.

He guides his cock in and out, painfully persevering, taking his damn time, but after a third deep and forceful thrust, you shuffle back into him impatiently, and Harry wants to chuckle aloud at your lack of patience now that he has you pressed up against him.

But your neediness is too tantalising to resist; Harry can’t stop his hips from bucking up into you, almost drooling at the hum of satisfaction you reward him with as he thrusts again, this time harder, his arm reaching around to rest his palm on your stomach, keeping you pinned as he proceeds to fuck into you.

Harry keeps going, huffing in sync with each thrust, his stomach clenching as you mewl against him, your palms pressing into the pillar and holding on for dear life. His hand slides down from your stomach to the back of your right thigh, raising it until your knee bumps up against the marble, and when he’s certain you plan on keeping it there, he releases your leg and proceeds to pound into you, his hand snaking around until it finds your pussy, fingers gliding along your wetness, seeking out louder moans, desperate whines.

And you are- unable to hold yourself back any longer, overcome with the electric current coursing through you with each thrust, each time his thumb brushes against your clit. You are chasing another orgasm, pushing your palms against the pillar in an attempt to get closer to him.

Harry kindly obliges, pressing his chest into your back, pulling you flush against his damp and flexed torso as he keeps at it, bucking up into you with all of his willpower, hands grabbing at you, adamant to have you as near as possible.

Right as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge for a second time in just minutes, Harry interrupts by pulling out and wrapping you up in his arms and hastily turning you around to face him. Concern flashes across his features as your back bumps up against the pillar, but when you only whine out, your left leg lifting up, calf wrapping around his waist, Harry guides his cock back into you, bucking up with commitment and determination to have you come unravelled against him once more.

And you are unravelling, chemistry at play as your body becomes a mix of ecstasy and euphoria. You are grabbing at every part of him, never wavering for too long, tugging at his hair, squeezing at his biceps, pressing your pelvis up against his own. Harry is doing the same, feeding off of your needy whines, unsaid pleas for him to keep going, and when you can’t help but turn them into verbal pleas, asking him so sweetly to fuck you “just like that”, he is in an absolute state,

“Yeah?” He confirms- only for the sake of hearing you speak up again,

“Yeah.” You stutter out, nails digging into the nape of his neck, scraping along his shoulder.

Harry is enamoured, you’re being such a good girl for him, and he wants to reward you for being so. But he also wants to be a little testy and has the urge to see how much nicer you’re willing to be for him, so he deems it necessary to hold out on you a tad longer.

He wraps his arm around the middle of your back, pressing you into him, and he bows his head and leans in as close to your ear as possible, his warm breath fanning over the nook of your neck and clavicle, ensuring you hear him loud and clear,

“Ask me nicely.”

Your head snaps up, looking at him with incredulity, but too desperate to do anything other than give him what he wants. One of your hands finds his torso, palms trailing along his chest as your other hand tightens around his neck in physical protest, which is the last thing that would ever slip past your lips. Trying your best to give him your politest plea, your mouth plump and puckered, mousey eyes flickering playfully up at him,

“Pretty please.”

And that’s all Harry needs, thrusting into you with repayment, revelling in the way your body accepts his reward so enthusiastically. He picks up the pace, pounding into you and making certain that you are more than welcome to come undone all over him,

“Such a good girl for me.”

You’re nodding at him desperately, body crumbling with each praise he is granting you, and when his palm slips down between your bodies, landing on your pussy and lazily swirling loops atop your clit, you are a shaking mess- in a frenzy and falling over the edge, coming all over his cock, softly chanting, “yes, yes.”

“So, so good.” He reminds you, holding onto you, keeping you secure and satisfied. He can feel the familiar stirring in his stomach, his cock twitching and tempted to come all over you.

But there’s no way he’s done with you, and he cannot fathom finishing now.

Your bucking has slowed, head lulling into the crook of his neck, trying to steady your breathing, and instead of giving in to an impending orgasm, Harry pats your bum firmly, wrapping an arm around your thigh, encouraging you to jump up into his arms.

He is still fully inside you and doesn’t plan on changing that, effortlessly guiding you up into his arms, one of his hands still on your backside, the other cradling your back. With great care, Harry starts to walk, staying slow and peering over his shoulder to make sure he’s going in the right direction.

Thankfully, the pillar was already the halfway point to the bed you had targeted earlier, and with your lips lazily trailing kisses along his torso, your nails digging into his back, Harry was overjoyed when his feet bumped into the base of the bed.

Impressively, he bows forward- your bodies still bound- his knees denting the mattress, lowering your bodies onto the bed until your back is pressed into the sheets and Harry is hovering over you, balancing on his forearms, his forehead brushing against your own.

“Ready to go again, princess?” His cool breath fans across your features, and you are nodding as if your life depends on it, your pelvis bucking up against him.

Harry’s brows furrow in amusement, his head bowing, lips brushing up against the shell of your ear, “Use your words, lovely.”

“Fuck.” You huff out, your right leg tightening around his waist, one of your hands digging into his bicep and the other tugs at his hair, “Please.” And just so he really gets the message, you add, “I want you.”

“Want me to what?” He drawls, tongue tickling your neck as one of his hands massages your breast.

“Fuck me.” Your reply is emotionless, stern and impatient, “Want you to fuck me.”

“Sassy little one, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles, squeezing your thigh endearingly.

You roll your eyes as if he hasn’t just stated the obvious, lifting your pelvis up to rub against him. His pupils are blown, and you want him inside of you- now.

“Are you gonna fuck me?” you ponder, nails dragging along his shoulder, “Or do I need to find someone else?” there is nobody alive that you could want more than him; he should know this from the way you are so eager to please him, but the mere suggestion has Harry thrusting into you mercilessly.

You whine out in both stupor and ecstasy, your back arching off of the bed, your breasts pressing into his chest. With one of his arms still holding him in place, Harry’s free hand comes up to cradle your face, your foreheads slick with sweat and sticking together.

His hands are about as big as your head, and that alone contributes to the next sigh you release, bucking up into him, meeting his thrusts in the middle, your pelvises slapping into one another.

Harry marvels at the way your bodies seem to so easily find a rhythm each time like you were made for him, and he for you. His thrusts are deep and with intention, stretching your pussy with satisfaction.

“Christ.” He huffs in astonishment, “Y’ feel so fuckin’ good.”

You can only moan out in agreement, at a complete loss for words. The only thing you feel is satisfaction sparking throughout your wholeness, and the only other thing you can think about is how badly you wish you knew his name- hoping to call it out to him as he pounds into you, desperate to reward him for doing such a good job.

Harry can't remember ever feeling so engaged in fucking someone- was there a time? Nothing before or after this moment matters; he could now die a happy man. You feel so warm and worked-up, pressed into him, grabbing at any part of him available for the taking.

He wants to let you, doesn’t mind if you spend hours or even days exploring him, poking and prodding his limbs and skin for reactions, having him like putty in your hands- all yours.

“More.” You huff out when it seems that Harry is getting caught up in his thoughts, and he thrusts into you so generously that your head lulls back to greet the mattress.

But now you are too far away for Harry’s liking; he needs to see those pretty eyes and pretty flushed cheeks, needs to see how good of a job he’s doing at pleasing you. His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your head back up, his lips waiting to latch onto your own.

Breathy kisses become open-mouthed ones. Harry’s tongue is dancing all along your mouth, biting on your lip and sucking on your tongue. Still, in a battle of kisses, Harry’s hand sweeps along your face and his pointer finger slips into your mouth. You suck on him like you were born solely for this purpose, and it’s Harry’s turn to stop his head from rolling back.

He keeps on at it, licking into your mouth while his cock rams into you relentlessly, each thrust accompanied by skin slapping, deep moans, hums of satisfaction and a stirring in your chest that only increases as Harry bends your leg and pins it to your chest, fucking into you from an angle that feels so good that you begin slipping away into a realm of pure pleasure.

“Like that?” Harry pants out, each thrust more purposeful than the last.

“Just like that.” You nod vigorously with gratefulness.

“Good girl.” He praises with a sloppy kiss, “Look so good like this.”

Harry keeps thrusting, and it’s not long before the look on your face starts morphing with frustrated delight, your eyes threatening to squeeze shut. But you don’t want to look away, instead glancing between your grooving bodies, in awe of the sight of his cock coated with all of you, pumping in and out so gracefully.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He is kissing your neck, tongue wet and trailing along your skin.

And that is all you need to guide you back into another orgasm, your hips raised off of the bed and grinding up against his pelvis in a circular motion, hands holding onto him for dear life.

Harry groans, almost growls out, pushing into you, trying to pull you closer than physically possible, “Just like that, sweetheart.” You are definitely a sucker for his praises, desperate for more, and he obliges, “So good for me.”

With a surprising twist, Harry is forced to confront his impending orgasm as you pose a rather prolonged request, “Want you to cum for me.”

He wants to panic, the thought of this being over is simply heinous, but you only chuckle at the obvious distress beginning to warp his features and reassure him, “I still have plenty in store for you.” And for good measure, you add, “Unless you can’t… keep up.”

Harry knows you’re only taunting him for the fun of it, but the suggestion is obscene, and he seeks to prove you wrong. You are still grinding up against him, whimpering at the sensitivity, nevertheless needy for more, so he picks up the pace, ramming into you with everything he has to offer, his arm bending further into the bed to get closer, and your arms wrap around him to assist, tugging him flush against you, teeth nipping at his neck.

“Gonna let me swallow you, pretty boy?” You blink up at him innocently, “Wanna taste you so badly.”

His thrusts are getting sloppier, slower and more determined. Now that the offer of an orgasm is on the table, lying beneath him, so pretty and so tasty, Harry can’t resist pushing into you harder, deeper, grunting and huffing along, skin shivering at the feel of your nails tickling at his torso.

And when you tilt your head and aim your teeth for his ear, nipping his earlobe only to soothe it with the flick of your tongue, you ask one more time, “Pretty please.”

“Fuck. Fuck.” Is all Harry can muster in between a mess of moans, struggling to keep his weight from coming down on you, his free hand wrapping around your waist to hold you still, his cock wailing for release.

And he gets exactly what he’s been searching for, thrusting into you once more, treasuring it as he pulls out, stroking at his cock as the two of you shuffle around and you are quickly on your knees, mouth spread wide, tongue flat and pushing past your lips.

Harry doesn’t think he has ever seen something- someone- so beautiful, and he doesn’t stop thinking this as he starts to cum, spilling onto your tongue, his cock throbbing at the sight of you swallowing him so kindly, at the glistening of your swollen lips, the bobbing of your throat.

You wear your satisfaction with pride, and for the first time, you wonder if Harry actually can keep up. He hadn’t said so, in words, at least. But he is still close and starts edging closer, desperate to have his hands back on you. He gets what he wants, and you shuffle closer, following his gaze as it shifts to the nearest patron, using his free hand to gesture for their attention.

Before you get the chance to get too confused, the patron steps closer, and you can now clearly see the contents of his silver platter. Staring up at you is an array of toys, small and large, feathered or leather or even metal. You don’t even need to glance over at Harry to tell him you are definitely game, instead reaching out with an item already in mind.

Harry watches as you select your weapon of choice, turning back to him with satisfaction and a cheeky smile, the chosen toy on display is just begging to be played with, and it seems that both of you are ready to oblige.

🍒

Forgive me for I am a sinner and I feel zero regrets. Hell can have me because I am DONE. I hope you guys enjoy this one! It's been a while since I've blessed the children with smut and I hope I have succeeded lmao. - Emmy. xo 💞

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jeannyjaykaydeh · 26 days ago

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Alastor x Reader

Light Smut

Here's the story behind my post about Alastor's dexterous skills with his cane, which really turns the reader on.

Link to the post:

Warnings: There are mentions of oral sex and fingering; the reader character has a vagina.

The plot isn't very... plot-heavy? It might be a little poorly written, to be honest.

It's mostly just a very horny reader, with a bit of a spicy ending.

Alastor might be a little out of character.

I still hope you enjoy reading it! :)

It's been a boring day at the Hazbin Hotel. You have finally managed to get out of bed after a long time, washed up, put on some clothes and are now leaving your room to go to the lobby. You actually like autumn, but you have to admit that this time of year always makes you feel a little sluggish.

You wonder if this time of year has the same effect on other souls.

Maybe Angel has some interesting news about some sinners you can gossip about. Or maybe Husk will make you that good tea again that only he can make.

You stride down the grand staircase, keeping an eye out for your friends to make sure they are here to save your boring day.

But instead of your friends, you see him: the radio demon.

Goosebumps of fear spread over your body - he has a cold and sinister aura - and at the same time that cosy, warm feeling rises in your chest that you always get when you see this elegant man in his red coat, which hugs a tall, slim body and makes a secret of what exactly is hidden underneath, but still reveals enough to know that revealing this secret is definitely worthwhile.

Your gaze falls on his feet, which are hidden in elegant oxfords with a discreet heel. Then your eyes travel up his body, which stands upright in a distinguished posture with both hands on the handle of his microphone cane. Over his dark trousers, which emphasise his long legs, then to his shirt, which he never tucks into his trousers, but you have often noticed that he wears a leather belt that fits perfectly with the overall look.

Sometimes, when you are lying in bed at night, you are overcome with fantasy and with it the strong desire to be allowed to help yourself to this belt just once.

On these nights, you imagine him sitting in his armchair in front of the fireplace in his room, lit by the flickering, warm fire that creates a warm atmosphere with its crackling. You imagine yourself kneeling on the floor in front of him, between his legs, while he holds the glowing green chain that binds your soul to him forever and looks at you expectantly after ordering you to open his trousers to satisfy him with your beautiful mouth.

You're almost at the foot of the stairs and you still can't stop staring at Alastor. Now you're looking at the strands of his hair, which rest very neatly in a bob cut almost on his shoulders, framing his handsome face, which is also adorned with his wonderful, captivating eyes that look like glowing rubies.

Oh, damn, you fancy this demon!

And you hate the fact that he seems so unapproachable. Like a mystery that doesn't want to be seen through.

As you start to enjoy his cute antlers sticking out of his fiery red mop of hair, your enjoyment is interrupted when you realise that he has a guest standing in front of him and talking to him. And this guest is none other than Mimzy.

She's been dropping by the hotel a lot these days to visit Alastor.

You can't stand her. She exudes an unpleasant aura towards you.

You know that she doesn't like you either. But you don't know why that is.

The reason is that she can't stand the fact that you have a high status with Alastor - which you don't know either. And he probably doesn't either.

But Mimzy recognises it. The way he looks at you and how his usually bitter smile turns into a warm expression as soon as you're near him. How his pupils dilate when you talk to him. And he talks about you a lot. Almost all the time, in fact.

How Mimzy wished she could have been looked at like that by Alastor when she was alive. But she could go to great lengths to make her way into his otherwise dark heart, but she never made it. He successfully stopped her. Time and time again.

And now that place in his cold, dead heart is occupied. This powerful, self-absorbed jerk has let you in there without you realising it.

"Ah, good day, my dear. It's a real pleasure to finally see you among the more lively characters in this hotel" Alastor greets you with genuine joy, which Mimzy only comments on with a discontented grumble.

"Hi" you reply shyly and immediately head for the lobby sofa, which is a little further away from the bar where the two twenties chatterboxes are standing.

But the radio demon doesn't find your aloof attitude particularly pleasant. When you sit down on the sofa, he asks: "Why don't you join us, y/n? It would be a pleasure to pour you a drink and enjoy a nice chat with you."

Your gaze wanders to Mimzy, who seems rather unhappy about her friend's invitation. That alone is reason enough for you to approach them with a provocative grin and join in their conversation.

Angel and Husk aren't here anyway and maybe the two flappers will manage to get you out of your boredom.

But you realise now that you've made a mistake.

Firstly, there is Alastor's immediate proximity. His scent has such a beguiling effect on you that you feel as if you've been catapulted into another dimension.

The arousal in your body increases, you feel the moisture spreading between your legs and soaking your panties with this warm, clear juice.

You try very hard to listen to Alastor, but it seems almost impossible.

And then comes the final signal that you can forget any attempt to concentrate on this conversation when you suddenly notice his hand skilfully twirling the microphone cane between his fingers.

You watch these movements intently and are impressed by his skill.

You've often noticed that he spins his walking stick between his fingers from time to time, but it's only at this moment that you realise how incredibly good he is at it.

You don't take your eyes off his hand. Impressed by the skill of his nimble fingers, you dive into your fantasy world in which you imagine that the radio demon is pleasuring you with these fingers.

That he pushes them inside you and explores every single spot of your wet temple until he finds the one that really excites you.

Meanwhile, he rubs your clitoris with his thumb to drive you to absolute ecstasy.

You imagine him looking deep into your eyes and repeatedly mentioning how beautiful he thinks you are while he drives you crazy with his dexterity in your dripping wet, delicious pussy.

Your whole body tenses up at the thought, your loins burn with desire for this man and your desire to be satisfied by him grows stronger and stronger.

You want nothing more than to belong to him for just one night, and you would even make the dirtiest, most sinful deal with him.

"Hey, he asked you a question, bitch!" Mimzy yells at you and snaps you out of your forbidden daydream.

You look at his annoyed face, then at Alastor, who looks at you in a patronising, expectant way.

"Would you come with me to Cannibal Town later, my dear? I'd like to go for a walk in the park and wouldn't mind your company."

You turn bright red and almost compete with the radio demon's coat.

"I..." you stammer, embarrassed. You can feel Alastor and Mimzy's eyes on you and it feels as if they have read your thoughts and seen this naughty film in your head.

"Excuse me. I have to go" you say suddenly and immediately turn round and hurry back up the stairs to your room.

When you get there, you close the door loudly behind you, lean against it and, completely out of breath, you try to calm down from everything that has just happened.

You wait.

And wait.

Until your breathing gradually settles down again.

When you realise that you can breathe normally again, you sink to the floor, your knees pulled up close to your body, your arms folded on your knees and your head buried in them.

That was probably the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you.

Fuck!

Why did that even have to happen?

Suddenly you are torn from your stream of thought when there is a knock on the door behind you.

The knock sounds like the hand of a strong man. It sounds firm and authoritative. The sound of the knock alone tells you who is on the other side of the door.

You roll your eyes in despair - why did he have to follow you now?

You quickly get up from the floor, smooth out your clothes and hair to bring some order back to your rumpled appearance and then open the door.

The radio demon smiles down at you and before you can even think about inviting him in, he confidently and naturally makes his way past you into your room. As he stops in the room, he turns round on the heel of his shoe in an elegant turn towards you, stops in front of you in an upright, distinguished posture and places his hands on the handle of his walking stick.

You close the door.

"Hello, my dear" he greets you with a certain irony in his voice, which is accompanied by a radio filter.

You look at him with narrowed eyes. You mistrust him in a way, especially when he grins at you with his arrogant manner, as he is doing at this moment.

You don't say anything. You don't have to, because it's Alastor who keeps talking as he crosses his arms behind his back with his walking stick and starts pacing around your room, looking around as if he's looking for something that will tell him more about you: "You're probably wondering why I'm here. Well, that's a very good question, after you removed yourself from our conversation rather quickly."

He casts a scrutinising glance over his shoulder at you to see your reaction.

You look to the side, embarrassed.

What should you say when he asks you why you suddenly left?

He approaches you and infiltrates your personal space. He gets so close to you that you can almost feel his breath on your face as he bores his gaze into yours to force the truth.

But you try to avoid the truth for now by stammering, suppressing your heavy breathing with excitement: "I... I was expecting an important call."

Slowly, Alastor steps closer to you and pushes you backwards. He sighs in disappointment and shakes his head in judgement. Then he says, "Y/n, you should know that I don't like being lied to at all."

You are stopped by a wall and are forced to stand still while the radio demon stands directly in front of you, barely leaving any space between you and pinning you to the wall.

Your heart beats ever more wildly against your chest. Partly from fear. Partly from excitement.

You breathe in his beguiling scent as he looks at you insistently.

His gaze seems dark, his smile sinister and then he asks something you wish he'd never asked: "Why were you staring at me like that earlier, hm? Do you think I don't recognise a woman's lustful gaze when it's directed at me?"

Your cheeks flush heavily and you feel the moisture spreading through your lower region again.

You can't help but find this moment more erotic than scary.

You avert your eyes from him in an attempt to hide your shame.

But what's wrong with him? Since when has he been like this?

"Nuh-uh-uh. Don't be shy, my dear."

Suddenly he lets go of you.

He takes a little distance from you and with a meaningful grin - his eyes still fixed on you - he raises his walking stick with one hand, the other behind his back, while he stands in a distinguished posture.

And then he starts twirling the cane.

You look at his hand. At his fingers. You watch these talented movements closely and you don't realise that you are biting your lower lip suggestively as you involuntarily imagine these gifted fingers moving inside you.

"From the first time I saw the wicked look on your face, I immediately realised why you are so taken with the way I twirl my cane. And that's exactly why I always do it whenever you're near me" he murmurs in a dark voice.

Excuse me?

Your eyes widen in shock. Your mouth is slightly open, as if you want to say something back, but you are completely lost for words.

He brings his hand to your cheek, brushes a few strands of hair from your face with his thumb and now you can feel his excited breath as it caresses your delicate skin.

"I'm enjoying seeing how much you want me, sweetheart" he says with a static rush of pleasure.

"Go on, say it!" he suddenly commands you and you understand exactly what he wants from you. With trembling lips, you breathe a shy but lustful "I... I want you, Alastor" as you savour his touch on your cheek.

You reach for his hand, bring it to your mouth, close your eyes and spread a few kisses on his palm while breathing excitedly.

Suddenly, the radio demon tears himself away from you to place his hand on the back of your neck, pull you towards him and press an intimate, sensitive and hot kiss to your lips.

Your tongues dance together as if they have always longed to do so, his bittersweet saliva mingles with yours and you love the taste of it spreading through your mouth. Sometimes you feel his razor-sharp teeth running dangerously but carefully over the sensitive skin of your lower lip, hinting at slight bites of desire.

Then you pause to look into each other's eyes. When you open your eyes, you see that his antlers have grown larger.

He gently strokes your head and cheek and then runs his thumb over your lower lip.

"Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours when you watch me" he says in his radio filter voice.

You gather all your courage - your strong desire for him helps you a lot - and you reply in a low voice: "I... I want you to finger me."

A dark chuckle comes from Alastor and the corners of his mouth turn upwards into a cheeky and triumphant grin.

Then he speaks: "Uh-huh! So that's what you are. It's not like you to hide such sinful thoughts behind that innocent-looking soul. But it seems to me that this season is turning us both into wayward sinners."

Suddenly he grabs you, spins you around, pushes you across the room and then gives you a shove so that you land on the bed with a swing.

Immediately afterwards, he climbs onto the bed with you, bends over you and soon you can feel his hand moving down your body to tug at your trousers. Goose bumps spread under the beads of sweat from your sexual energy.

"Now then. Your wish is my command, darling" he whispers to you with a satisfied and lustful smile.

Joy spreads through you, you smile back as you wrap your arms around him and pull him towards you for another deep kiss.

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justporo · 1 year ago

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Headcanons for Astarion and Tav spending winter time

Aight, writing for the fluff challenge has me thinking about this a lot, so why not exploit it some more, eh? Some of these are/will be used in the drabbles plus more stuff. So, here we go:

Does Astarion like winter? For sure not, this vampire is made for summer time, elegant summer clothing and also... a beautiful summer tunic on his partner is just so much more beautiful than all the winter clothes (and easier to take off, he has a point there)

You can convince him though that winter time has its perks because there's so much more cuddling and who really wants to get out of bed when it's that cold outside, right?

Astarion will however use every given opportunity to make a fashion statement - expect beautiful but dramatic, winter cloaks with fur, elegant gloves, winter tunics with beautiful embroidery (although he might enjoy just throwing on a sweater at home - especially if you had it stolen before and your scent still lingers on it)

Also winter festivities were mostly hurtful reminders this far, but now? With you by his side, he will enjoy them a lot more

Also: let's not forget that it may be cold outside but the nights are much longer and give you more opportunity to be out and about

He sneakily hangs up a mistletoe somewhere in your place and waits like a predator to assault you with kisses every time you catches you under it; "Astarion! This is the tenth time today! You know you can just ask me for a kiss, don't you?" "But darling, where would be the fun in simply asking? Isn't it so much more romantic when pure chance makes us meet here under the mistletoe time and again, my love?" "It's not chance when you keep lingering under it, Astarion!"

He enjoys decorations a lot more than he'd care to admit, he enjoys when your place smells of fresh pine from wreaths and other stuff you've put up and he likes the cosy atmosphere all the spread candles are creating for the two of you cuddling up while a snowstorm howls outside

Speaking of: expect Astarion to become the embodiment of a cuddly cat during winter time; he'll snuggle up with you under some blankets, in front of the fireplace, maybe with a nice book to read and a mug of mulled wine to enjoy

Astarion will also make sure you stay appropriately warm: no matter if he buys you a wooly sweater or makes you a nice coat himself; "My love, I'm cold enough for the two of us, you don't need to take on this quality of mine."

One more thing he absolutely loaths is: snow; he doesn't get it

Sadly you also can't change his mind by throwing snowballs at him - oh no! This will only cause him to show you that his rogue skills make for very good aiming and you'll soon both just be completely frozen; but it's worth it because you could swear you heard him laugh and see him smile despite him proclaiming this all childish

Once he figures you are very much into all of this, he puts some more effort into it - he wants to see you happy; every time Astarion goes into the city and walks across the winter market, he'll bring you something: maybe something sweet, maybe a small piece of decoration - you feel very appreciated, you just hope he paid for that stuff and didn't just steal it; Astarion is elusive on the matter

The most important thing for him though is that he gets to spend winter time together with you - with all the gifts and challenges it may bring

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @azukiel @darlingxdragon

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion #astarion x reader #poro headcanons #headcanons #astarion x you #bg3

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eternalguk · 9 months ago

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All Yours || jjk. (M)

Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep.

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : Your love for Jungkook was a quiet emotion. He was the oxygen you needed to breathe. In his kisses, you found sincerity. In his embrace, you discovered your heartbeat. And in his love, you found your eternal home.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, slice of life au, comfort au, boyfriend!jk & teacher!reader, pwp (teeny tiny angst, fluff & smut)

↠ Word count : 6.3k

↠ Warnings : allusions to sadness / anxiety, oc hating her job, oc is an overthinker, brief mention of taehyung, unprotected sex, female oral, fingering, breast play, making out, reader squirts, pet names, softdom!jk, praise kink and they’re both just hopelessly in love with e/o.

↠ A/n : hi everyone, it’s nice to meet you 🤍 here is a soft Jungkook fic that I have written as a form of closure for something. I hope you enjoy this short musing and can also find comfort from this. Your feedback is always appreciated and I would love to get to know you! Happy reading 🦢.

↠ Song : Chariot - Jacob Lee.

Work.

The word itself sent a chill down your spine and made your throat feel stuck. What field of work does your job fall into, you wondered as you stepped outside the building.

Am I a babysitter? A therapist? A cleaner? An administrator? A parent? Everyday, as you walk towards your car, the same thoughts fill your brain as you keep your eyes from closing.

A teacher.

All those jobs fell into one category and that was being a teacher.

You loved your job, you really did. But it was finally beginning to catch up to you and burn you out.

As you put your students’ exercise books into your car, your phone rings. A sigh escapes your lips as you curse whoever is calling you at the moment your brain is shutting down.

A small smile forms on your face as you read the caller id.

Jungkook.

You answer immediately, your tense body visibly relaxing.

“Jagi? Hello?”

You listen to his voice, eyes beginning to tear up as you realise how much you’ve missed him.

“Guk!” you say brightly, hoping to mask the tiredness laced all round you.

“You’ve not replied all day, I’ve been waiting!” He begins. You already know what’s coming next.

“I told you to message me at break, lunch and to leave as soon as the bell rings for the end of the day. You’ve stayed behind again!”

“Mhmm”

“Do I need to come collect you myself? Keep the car at home, huh?” He scolds, but you know his intentions simply mean well for you. What did you do to deserve a loving boyfriend like him?

“I’m sitting into the car now to head home; I’ll be back in no time. I was on detention duty.” You reply, skin crawling at the remembrance of you waiting for the students to leave.

“Be quick babe, I’ll get your food ready.”

“Okay, my love.” You smile again, counting down the minutes until you see your boyfriend.

“Love you,” he whispers. You imagine the grin playing on his lips.

“Love you more,” you respond, switching your car on as he cuts the call.

Comfort. Delight. Jungkook.

As you step through the threshold of your home, a sense of warmth and comfort immediately envelops you. The cosy ambiance welcomes you like an old friend, with soft lighting casting gentle glows across the hallway. The scent of freshly made cookies mingles with the familiar aroma of your favourite scented candles, creating an atmosphere of tranquillity.

He truly knows how to bring a smile to your face.

Every corner is adorned with personal touches, from cherished photographs of you and Jungkook, to carefully selected décor that reflects your unique styles. As you move through the space, you can't help but feel grateful for the haven you have created with Jungkook, where you both have cultivated a sanctuary that feels like an extension of yourselves.

Here, amidst the walls that hold your shared memories and the echoes of your laughter, you have crafted the perfect safe space where you can be yourselves, finding solace and serenity in one another's presence.

Smiling, you head into your main living space, waiting to see the only person who puts your busy mind at ease.

Jungkook stands with his back to you. Bam, your playful dog, next to him.

You admire Jungkook staring out the window, lost in the rhythmic percussion of the rain that briskly falls outside. His eyes are steady to each drop, face aglow with the orange rays that spill from the lamp before him. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he is enjoying his thoughts, whatever they may be. You move closer to him, hoping he’d feel your presence, yet you stay quiet, allowing him to stay lost in the moment a little while longer.

“You got home fast?” A quiet whisper breaks the silence as a hand reaches out to you, beckoning you to come closer. Nuzzling into your boyfriend, you reply a quick, “mhm,” before reaching up to peck his cheek and resting your own against his bare shoulder.

“And you’re half-naked?” You tease, brushing your nose against his soft skin. Jungkook had evidently just showered, his typical body lotion filling your nose. You’d always tell him how you dislike his lotion, and so he’d use exactly that one.

“That’s what love is,” he’d always say.

“Long day?”

“Long week,” you sigh, removing your shoes at the same time and dropping your bag. You mentally thank the fact that you missed the rain by a millisecond. Having soaked clothes and books would’ve definitely made your day worse.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jungkook prompts, his husky voice already washing you with calmness. You shake your head, “no,” simply wanting to relish in the comforting ambience that occupied your home.

Minutes pass as you both watch the March rain. The day really had slipped away into a moment of time, as if it had never really been yours in the first place.

“And here is your lasagna, my love. Made by yours truly.” Jungkook smiles, placing a bowl of warmth before you.

As Jungkook places the steaming bowl of lasagna in front of you, its aroma fills the air. He settles across from you, a grin playing on his lips, but you notice there’s no bowl for himself.

"Where's yours?" you inquire, already sensing the answer.

With a nonchalant shrug, Jungkook replies, "Already had mine."

You roll your eyes, a playful scowl crossing your face. "That's one thing I hate about you," you jest, though there's a hint of annoyance in your tone.

He chuckles, undeterred. "It's not like I can't eat again." With that, he rises to retrieve a modest portion of lasagna for himself.

As you both dig into the savoury dish made by your boyfriend, conversation flows effortlessly. "Shall I ask about work?" Jungkook inquires, breaking the comfortable silence.

You sigh, swirling your fork in the layers of cheese and pasta. "I'm really considering handing in my notice," you confess, contemplating a change to a quieter job.

Jungkook nods understandingly, his eyes reflecting empathy. "You could do with a break," he agrees, his voice gentle. "You know, my dad really liked those jewellery designs you sketched. Come work with us. Plus, I’ll get to see more of you," he adds with a playful smirk.

You laugh, shaking your head. "You just want to fulfil your dreams of office sex," you tease, with a fondness in your tone.

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hey, don't call me out so soon," he retorts with a smirk, winking at you.

Shifting the conversation, you inquire about his own work, wondering if he felt more settled today with his dad.

“Yeah, I'm enjoying the creative freedom,” Jungkook replies, a sense of satisfaction evident in his voice. You knew he had troubles voicing his ideas, but with encouragement from you, he finally felt confident enough to show his father.

Curious about his recent photography bookings, you ask about any upcoming weddings.

Jungkook's face lights up with a grin. "Yes, Sunmi recommended me to a friend," he reveals proudly.

The joy you felt knowing Jungkook was still able to balance his passion with work was something inexplicable.

"We need to invite her and Namjoon over for lunch," you suggest, already picturing the lively gathering.

Agreeing wholeheartedly, Jungkook nods as you both continue to savour the lasagna and each other's company, content in the warmth of shared moments and future plans.

Breaking the comfortable silence, Jungkook clears his throat, drawing your attention. "Guess who reached out to me earlier today," he announces, a hint of excitement, but shock in his voice.

Curiosity piqued, you inquire, "Who?"

Jungkook's eyes light up as he responds, "Taehyung hyung."

You offer a polite smile. "Ah, that's nice," you remark, though a subtle tension settles over you.

"He's back in town next weekend with, you know who," Jungkook continues, sensing your unease but pressing on gently.

Your grip tightens slightly on your utensils, but you nod, silently signalling for him to continue.

"He wanted to see us," Jungkook reveals. "I said I'll check with you."

Before you can even apologise for your hesitation, Jungkook reaches over, gently clasping your hand. "Never apologise," he insists, his voice firm yet comforting. "We'll do whatever makes you feel comfortable."

You exhale softly, grateful for his understanding. "I really don't mind him," you confess, your words tinged with resignation. "It's been years, and I've moved on. But being in his presence brings everything back, and I don't feel happy with that."

Jungkook nods in understanding, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "We can cross that bridge when we come to it," he reassures, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

Feeling a wave of gratitude, you offer a small smile before suggesting, "I'll wash the dishes."

Jungkook nods, his expression softening. "I'll go edit some photos," he offers, rising from his seat.

With a silent understanding, you both retreat to your respective tasks, the air filled with unspoken reassurances and a shared commitment to each other's comfort.

Jungkook hoists you onto the counter effortlessly, gently slotting himself between your parted legs. With a quick peck to your lips, he reaches behind you to grab your cleanser, pumping it twice into his hands.

“I’ll put on some soft music, light a candle,” he begins, lathering the cleanser between his fingertips before doing his best to apply it to your face, “and then I’ll cuddle you until you fall asleep.”

You simply nod, the sight of Jungkook concentrating on not getting the cleaner in your hair distracting you.

“Why do you do this for me?” You whisper, genuine curiosity taking over you as you come to terms with just how delicately Jungkook has tended to you not just today, but everyday. Everyday for the past 6 years. The feeling felt foreign but comforting all at the same time.

You weren’t used to someone taking care of you, and as Jungkook dampens a face towel to smoothly remove the product from your face, you realise once again how lucky you are to have him.

“Because you deserve this, angel.” He pauses, grabbing a cotton pad and your almost finished toner. “You deserve to know that you’re also a priority.”

You melt at his words, leaning forward to gingerly press a kiss against his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

You aid Jungkook in finishing your skincare routine which he confidently completes. An intimate silence envelops you and Jungkook thankfully doesn’t pierce it. You didn’t quite feel like speaking right now, your mind being loud enough.

What would it be like to see Taehyung? Should you say yes? Should you say no? It’s not fair on Jungkook. It’s not fair on you.

“Stop thinking about seeing hyung, Jagi.” Jungkook scolds, offering you a cheeky smile at the same time.

“I hope you know that there’s no fee-”

“I know; I trust you.”

“But-”

“And you trust me.”

He swiftly lifts you from the counter, and you cling to him like a koala as he carries you to your bedroom. Upon entering, a gentle breeze hits your bare legs which makes you cling to Jungkook stronger, eliciting a small chuckle from the man.

Softly, he lies you on the mattress before joining you underneath the crisp duvet.

“Sing to me,” you whisper as Jungkook pulls you onto his bare chest. You nuzzle into him, basking in the warmth he holds.

“I was thinking something else,” he whispers and he moves you closer.

“And what would that be, Mr. Jeon?” You feign innocence, knowing exactly what is brewing in Jungkook’s mind.

“I’ll just show you, soon-to-be Mrs. Jeon.” He smirks, leaning forward to peck a kiss on your lips.

As the moonlight streamed through the lace curtains, illuminating the room with a soft golden glow, you couldn't contain the flutter of excitement in your heart. The thought of marrying Jungkook filled you with a warmth that spread from the tips of your toes to the depths of your soul.

You imagined the way his eyes would sparkle with joy as you exchanged vows, and the gentle touch of his hand reassuring yours. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that your love was the greatest adventure of all.

“Hey, dreamer. Wakey wakey.” Jungkook laughs, shaking you out of your daydreams.

Dreamer.

A few years ago you wouldn’t have ever imagined having another nickname, but here you were, loving this one the most. Where does time go?

“Jungkook, my love?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Show me, please.”

With that, Jungkook cups your cheek and moves forward to rub your noses together as his long, slender thumb caresses your blushed cheek.

In the room that is now twilight and shadow, Jungkook lies close enough for you to breathe in his alluring scent. His arms wrap around your back, and in one gentle pull, he is hovering above you, and your skin touches his. You feel his hand in your hair, how he loves the softness, watching it tumble as he releases it. His hand then moves down from your cheekbones to your lips.

“Kiss me, Y/N.” Jungkook requests with his husky voice and you don’t need to be told twice, reaching upwards to sync your lips together. The two of you move like partners in a dance that is written in your DNA. Your bodies fit together as if you were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm.

Jungkook’s hands are all over you with a vehement urgency, removing the black vest top you had worn to bed. You pull back to admire him, moving his hair out of the way so you can see his beautiful eyes. With a laugh, he brings his face closer to yours, rubbing your noses together, letting your giggles echo inside his safety cocoon. You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another.

“My prettiest angel.” he whispers in your ear.

And then the heated kissing starts again.

Jungkook showers you with kisses, each one different from the last. He pulls you closer to him by your waist as he lets his hands roam your body freely. Jungkook bends down, brushing his lips gingerly over your cheek.

Despite it being a light touch, he still manages to send euphoric sensations through your nerves, making you shiver. The control this man has over you through the subtlest forms of love, is something you still cannot encapsulate.

“If you want us to stop, tell me now.”

You remain silent as he brushes his lips against your temple.

“Or now.” he mutters as he traces the line of your cheekbone with his index finger.

“Or-”

You reach up to interrupt him, pulling him down to collide your lips together, the rest of his words lost against your mouth. Jungkook kisses you gently, carefully as if you were made of porcelain and would break easily. And that’s exactly what you love about Jungkook.. how tender he is with you. How he always makes sure you’re comfortable enough to proceed.

You knot your fist in his hair, pulling Jungkook against you harder. After waiting for so long, a gentle kiss was not going to satisfy your needs. He groans softly, low in his throat, and his arms circle you, gathering you closer against him all whilst beginning to remove the remaining articles of unnecessary clothing that adorn the two of you.

Jungkook’s tongue licks a long stripe down your neck as his fingertips are whisked away in your hair. He holds the back of your head gently in place as he decorates your skin with deep purple stains of ardent worship, as though you’re his canvas. You hug him close to your throat and your naked breasts rest against his bare chest as you grind yourself up against him. Jungkook cups your face, bringing you to face the deep pink hues of his swollen lips as he presses a searing kiss that has you groaning into his mouth. Jungkook indulgently hums into the kiss, the sheets becoming messier as he leans forward, moving himself against you.

You mouth at him sensually as he tightens his grip on your torso, being sure to dote on each part of your skin he roams. He traces his finger down your chest, his lips following shortly after as he cherishes each inch of your skin. He stops at your breasts, breathing deeply on the already hardened nipples. You tug at his soft tresses as he groans against your nipples, before he begins kissing from the valley of your breasts.

“God, I love your tits.” He sighs out as he shifts towards your nipple, taking the hardened peak into his hot mouth. You arch against him, moaning pleasurably as you massage his scalp. It had been so long since you and Jungkook had time to be this close… this intimate.

Hearing you moan so audibly has Jungkook smirking against your soft skin, your reaction spurring him on. The way he was prodding at your nipple with his sinful tongue had you so utterly lost in his ministrations. He was sure to fondle your neglected breast, bringing his hand up to knead it. The pressure of his skillful tongue and the softness of his palm had you sighing out in bliss. Your moans filled the dimly lit room as you writhed underneath the man providing you with utmost pleasure, realising that this is just the beginning of his ministrations.

You pull Jungkook back against your lips, crashing them together once again. His slightly rough stubble rubbed against your skin in the most delicious way, far from uncomfortable. Jungkook cinched you further into him as he felt the silken strands of your hair. Stopping the soft assault against your mouth, he pulled back.

“I love you Jagi. I really do.”

You stared back at him, swollen lips, messy hair and watery eyes. Jungkook looked down at you through heavy lidded eyes, eagerly needing a response.

“I love you more, baby.” You whisper as you reach up to press a kiss between his brows. Your pussy clenches as your eyes are drawn down to his thick erection. The heat in your gut is only gushing more. You hear Jungkook click his tongue as he palms at himself in order to distract you from it.

You reach forward to grab, but Jungkook stops you before you can even do so. A simple shake of his head gives you the answer you were certainly not looking for. He can’t help but feel proud knowing that despite you both being together for so long, despite you both being in this position frequently, you still always managed to become amazed by the size of his length and what he could do with it.

But today? Today the air around you both is filled with a sense of shyness. It most definitely isn’t the first time for you both, but you’re so nervous you’d never know it. There’s something about Jungkook that lights you up from the inside. And something about you which melts all of Jungkook’s confidence to nothing at all. Touching him is like being handed the holy grail. Almost as if your heart is mended each time you are together even though you never knew it was broken.

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and your heartbeat increases. He stares at you with deep respect and adoration, it almost hurts. No one had ever paid this much attention to you before Jungkook. No one had loved you like this. No one had celebrated you in this manner. Jungkook changed that. He stayed with you in your quietness and kissed the scars you hid from others. He is your greatest and rarest treasure. A blessing that brought you inner peace.

Jungkook’s hand that lies on your waist gradually makes its way down to your hip, stopping at the very border of it.

“If I may?” He reaches forward and whispers before nibbling on your ear.

You nod and that was all the consent Jungkook needed. He has you far too riled up for you to even consider stopping his ministrations.

“I’m going to show you how much I love you.” He pauses. “Going to show my angel how happy she makes me.” He breathed out.

“Guk-”

His actions interrupt you as he leans forward to suck on the sweet spot right behind your ear. You inhale sharply and he uses this opportunity to trail his hand down further. Jungkook himself may have been shy, but his doings were far from it. You felt yourself heat up as his fingers reached your nether lips, caressing the soft and soaked area.

“Always so wet for me, aren’t you, Y/N?”

The use of your name had you clenching your pussy, which wasn’t missed by Jungkook. He smirks against the temple of your head, mentally giving himself a pat on the back.

“Is my baby feeling shy?” He playfully teases as he faintly brushes over your clit, refusing any direct contact with the place you need him the most. Jungkook’s other hand grabbed the back of your thigh, bringing it to rest at his waist, granting him the further access he needs. He presses himself closer to you, gently rubbing over your clit. His touch ignites something deep in your senses, you grind into his hand wanting more.

“I don’t want to play too much today.” He simply voices as he pulls his hand away. You whine underneath him, dissatisfied at the loss of his hands. Jungkook’s quick to make that disappear as he lifts your thighs over his shoulders, letting them rest there delicately. You slightly relax, knowing what’s coming next.

Jungkook slides to rest on his lean stomach as he begins to kiss from your ankle upwards, his hand always just a little higher than the gentle kisses he presses everywhere. You feel your back arch in anticipation knowing where his sinful mouth will reach soon. Your head rocks back as he inches towards your core, ready to moan his name as he devours you wholly.

Jungkook breathes against your soaked folds making you quiver with arousal. He massages the inside of your thighs, attempting to calm your nerves. “Always so pretty for me.” He praises before reaching forward to press a kiss against your clit, making you shudder with sensitivity.

“You’ve missed this, haven’t you my love? Missed having my tongue all over your messy cunt? He asks as you run your fingers through his dark locks, tightening the grip on his scalp. You arch your hips into his eager mouth, striving to gain some form of contact.

“Please.. Jungkook, please.” You breathlessly moan out, patience being a virtue you can no longer abide by. Jungkook gives in to your pleading, knowing that he too, needs to have a taste. Needs to subdue the longing of being deep within you.

Jungkook uses the tip of his tongue to lightly trace your nether lips. You squirm underneath him, moaning his name needily as you try to chase more of his tongue. Jungkook feels turned on seeing you lost in the clouds of ecstasy despite him doing so little.

“Guk… please, I need more.” You impatiently whine, trying to provoke further action. And so he does. He finally accepts that he’s perhaps tortured you a little too long now. “If it’s too much, princess, be sure to tell me.” is all he musters as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He allows himself to latch onto your quivering cunt, sucking on your labia and making out with it to his heart’s content.

He buries himself further as he skims with his lips, gathering all your wetness on his tongue as you mewl at the orgasmic sensations he provides. He grants you no mercy as he uses his masterful tongue to eat you up. Jungkook had missed this deeply. Missed seeing you lost in the throes of pleasure with not a single care in the world.

You buck your hips closer to his face, begging for more through your actions. Jungkook flattens his tongue against your cunt, sucking greedily on the pulsing bud, groaning at the sweet flavour he had so dearly missed.

“Oh god, Jungkook please. I- I need more!” You give up trying to be quiet, chasing your high being your main priority at the moment.

“Baby wants more?” Jungkook smirks against you before he repeatedly licks up your slit, lapping at you shamelessly. Jungkook takes you by surprise as he sinks two of his long fingers into your leaking pussy. He curls them at the right spot and you whimper out loudly, gripping his hair tighter, not even considering the pain it could cause him.

“Jungkook.. Kook.. You can’t just..” You attempt to mutter out, but the excitement of reaching your high overtakes you and you moan his name instead. He pushes them in and out of you fast and hard whilst teasingly slurping at your juices. You know Jungkook is keen to make you come, and he knows he’s reaching his goal by the way your brows furrow and how you haven’t stopped biting your lips.

“Almost there.. aren’t you, angel?”

“Mmm, Guk, please. Please!” You have no clue what you’re begging for, crying out lustily.

“My baby is so gorgeous. So beautiful for me. My good girl.” Jungkook coos at you, the praises making you need more. Jungkook closes his lips around your clit and sucks it hard as his fingers relentlessly fuck into you. You arch and attempt to push his fingers out. Jungkook understands what you need without words and withdraws them from deep within, instead harshly rubbing at your clit in regular motions, watching you squirt on his tongue and gush all over the sheets.

You mewl distinctly as Jungkook groans at the sight of the mess in front of him. You’re panting hard as he encourages you to continue releasing all your cum.

“All of this for me, jagi? Come on, show me how much more there is. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You gasp and twitch from the oversensitivity of Jungkook’s ministrations as he rushes to hover above you, pressing gentle kisses to your face and wiping the tears which had formed. Jungkook praises you and you don’t fail to blush at his devotion, feeling a sense of pride wash over yourself as he repeatedly refers to you as his good girl.

“Thank you.” you mutter as you reach to latch your lips onto Jungkook’s, him shaking his head no as he brushes the drenched tendrils of hair from your face. A gentle smile adorns his face as he whispers back an “Always” making you feel flustered all over again. You notice Jungkook looking a little too calm and peer down once again at his painfully hard cock.

“Let me jus-”

Once again, Jungkook interrupts you as he grabs your hand, stopping it from reaching its desired destination.

“Not today, jagi. I don’t need your hand today.”

“Hmm?” You mutter, confusion written over your face.

“I just…”

“You just?”

“I just want to make love to my princess.” Jungkook whispers against your lips as he presses his hard length against your soaked core, casting it against your slickness making you whine again.

Jungkook kisses you so gently, so tenderly, you feel the grand amount of love he has for you through the simple movements of his lips against yours. The two of you continue to make out languidly, the moonlight spilling from your sheer curtains illuminating your surroundings, making it all the more intimate. All the more magical.

He leans forward pressing careful kisses to your bare shoulder up to your ear.

“I want to make love to you, Y/N. I want to show you how loved you are.”

You bring your dainty hands to rest against his bare chest as he moves to rub your noses together.

“I want to feel you, Jungkook. I need you.”

And that small whisper is all Jungkook needs as he wraps your legs around his waist and lines himself up against your entrance. Jungkook glances down at where your bodies are soon to connect and smiles as he prods your wet and desperate flesh with his tip.

“Is this okay, jagi?” He delicately inquires, the warmth in his eyes making it evident that he only wants to provide you with utter comfort and nothing else. “Mhm.” You answer as you move your hands towards the nape of his neck, interlacing them.

Jungkook steadies his hand on your pillow as he pushes himself into your wetness, groaning pleasurably. You arch into him, familiarising yourself with his thickness, the feeling still somehow being foreign. The two of you curse as Jungkook nestles his cock into you, your tightness spurring him on further.

“I’ve missed this.” Jungkook moans out loudly as he softly moves forward to settle into you. “I’ve missed the way your walls clench around me.” You whimper at his words and the delicious stretch, your chest rising as you anticipate his next measure. Jungkook gently pulls out of you, only to penetrate you deeper as he hits your cervix.

“I want to love you. Softly. Slowly. Take my time and worship you the way you deserve..” He groans as he glides himself out of you once again, your pooling wetness allowing him to drag himself at ease despite the tightness. You are already filled to the brim, the feeling of home apparent to you both.

“I want to kiss every inch of your perfect body. Love you the way you love me, my love.”

You moan at his confession, tears threatening to spill as the thickness of Jungkook’s cock stretches you out flawlessly. You clench around him tighter which makes Jungkook moan, reaching forward to kiss you harder.

You whine into his mouth, urging him to move.

And so he does.

Jungkook sets a steady and sensuous pace, pressing his hips into you keenly as he moves in and out of you in a languid manner. He presses sweet kisses to your lips and cheeks, breathing deeply as he softly fucks your dripping pussy. Jungkook looks at you with all the tenderness he could gather, moving his hand to slide at the base of your spine, pulling you further onto his cock. Jungkook presses your foreheads together as he continues his tender thrusts.

“I love you so much, so much it hurts.”

Jungkook’s precious words shelter you. Protect you. Make you feel whole. They tend to your hidden wounds, caressing over them in the most soft manner. Your heart flutters at his confession, making you wrap your legs around him tighter as you rut against him trying to match the rhythm of his thrusts. The slightly harsh rocking of Jungkook’s hips provided your clit with the relief it needed. Your cum was already pooling beneath you as he kissed the tears of his passion away from your eyes. Jungkook takes your hand, resting it against your head, entwining your nimble fingers with his own. The slight breeze from the air outside and the warmness your room was providing was the perfect mix, making you feel all the more loved. All the more safe with him.

Your mouths were leaving sloppy kisses wherever they could reach, your sweaty bodies entangled together and your breasts suffused with red from Jungkook’s earlier doings. The both of you felt divine, the wetness all around you being your greatest evidence. The two of you were so lost in one another, so infatuated by each other’s presence, you don’t even realise the mess you had created. You squeezed Jungkook’s hand as he picked up the speed of his thrusts, ensuring to provide you with the ease you needed.

“I love this.. God, I fucking love the way you make me feel. The way you love me.” You spill, making Jungkook penetrate you deeper. Words were hard to muster and so you refrain from speaking further, simply letting your begging moans inform him how good he makes you feel. How heavenly he makes you feel with every precise thrust.

You don’t need to communicate, Jungkook’s hard and animalistic groans echoing inside your little bedroom are enough on both of your behalfs. He pulls out lightly, before grinding deeper as he presses his taut body against your smaller self, provoking you towards another orgasm. You claw at his back, wanting him closer and so he tightens his hold against you, kissing at your neck as he whispers sweet nothings and innocent promises into your sensitive ears. His rhythmic hips not halting their pace, sensually drawing you towards your end.

“You’re doing so well for me baby, such a good girl.” And you know he means each and every encouragement that leaves his lips, a reflection of the pure love he feels for you. You thread your fingers through his hair as he sinks himself into you again, hitting against your g-spot, making your legs quiver and him grunting at the feeling of your wetness pooling on his cock.

Your moans become louder and Jungkook recognises that you need more friction, bringing his hand down to rub against your clit. The sweet pressure as he perfectly thrusts into you has you curling your toes, the feeling of him stretching you wide and making you more wet was exactly all you needed right now. “Almost done, I promise. My baby is so perfect. isn’t she?” He hummed against the temple of your head.

“Jungkook.” You moan in utter euphoria as he picks up his pace, slamming into you with completely new force, ensuring he syncs with the thumbing against your clit. Jungkook begins to move harsher, ramming into you hard, hitting each pleasurable spot whilst holding your body down with his strong yet soft hands.

His actions contrast with the softness of his kisses and the integrity of the loving praises he showers you with. His eyes never once leave you, watching you bite your lips, watching your eyes become more watery, watching the sweat begin to form at your baby hairs.

Jungkook swears he has never seen a sight so gorgeous, so breathtaking. You reach to cup his cheek, telling him repeatedly how much you love him and he gently nods at you, a shy smile breaking out on his face while his pace inside you never changes.

Your hands find Jungkook’s toned back once again, scratching down it as you feel your insides constrict, the coil threatening to break as Jungkook’s pelvis and skin hits against yours repeatedly. You melt into his body as you seek the comfort Jungkook provides you with his sweet, blissful love. You both moan in sync and mirror each other's expressions as you internally thank the heavens above for the love that has been graced upon you.

A series of ‘I love yous’ and ‘You’re all mine’ are heard from the two of you as Jungkook paints your insides white. You feel his cock pulsing as he fills you to the very brim, eliciting a distinct whimper out of you. You leak your wetness all over yours and Jungkook’s legs as he rests his head against your shoulder, telling you that you’ve done well through kisses on your warm skin. Jungkook pushes into you harder as if he wants you both to be one just a little longer. As if he wants to melt into you completely. You run your fingers through his damp hair as he finally stills.

“You always feel so amazing.” Jungkook chuckles, evoking a giggle out of you. He slips his softening cock out you carefully, being sure not to hurt you. You wince slightly at the loss of close contact, wanting to experience this all again. Jungkook pecks your lips before moving to rest next to you, splaying his hand against your stomach and resting his chin on your shoulder.

He had moved from Busan to Seoul. Travelled from America to Europe. Europe to Asia. He had felt safe, secure and content wherever he went. Yet the feeling of home, the feeling of evermore was only ever found with you.

“You’re mine.” You softly whisper.

“I’m all yours.”

The room is now silent, the only noise being heard is the deep panting coming from the both of you and the rain that patters against your window. Cleaning your surroundings and yourselves is far from your mind, Jungkook’s presence and warmth being the only aftercare you need. You wrap your arm around him and nuzzle into his neck as he pulls you closer, straightening what he can of your tousled hair. The breeze from the outside world cools you both down, bringing in a sense of balance; the wisdom to move yet at a steady pace.

You and Jungkook both have your eyes closed, calming down from your highs whilst resting in one another’s embrace. You feel yourself finally drifting away to dreamland in the presence of your safe place. The beginning of this new spring day was like a love song, one that morphed from a melancholy slowness to a happier and more uplifting tune.

The two of you are relaxed, as the early spring breeze brings for you a sense of hope. An awakening magic inhabits the room, a sensation of an old-spirit rekindling and seeking to knit together all that is good.

Feeling at peace in the arms of your lover, you know you are safe. Jungkook presses you against himself firmly and before you slip away to a more tranquil mindset, you feel a sweet kiss being placed on your forehead and you know that you are in a flower meadow with Jungkook, surrounded by the colour of his love for you. The thousands of petals representing the thoughts he had. Feeling at ease, you settle well into him. Every muscle’s tension, lost to the calm ripened air.

You are home.

You always are, when you’re with him.

And there we go. I hope you enjoyed! Feedback and comments are always appreciated <3

Until next time,

🤍

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sonamytrash · 5 months ago

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Catch up

Yuta Okkotsu x Fem reader.

Warnings: Older reader implied, only slighter older by a few years. Pining, mutual pining, fluff, bittersweet romance.

Banner by @cafekitsune

Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School, a bastion of arcane knowledge for the next generation of sorcerers. It serves not only as a training ground but also as a headquarters for all who have graduated. The air was always thick with the scent of incense as students roamed the hallowed halls in their distinctive uniforms, their conversations, a symphony of ambition, and camaraderie. Yuta, however, often found himself lost in thought, his gaze lingering often on you as you walked by, your hips swaying gently with each step you took. Your eyes would occasionally flicker in his direction, sending a shiver down his spine. Did you know? Did you notice his furtive glances all these years? You were an intelligent woman, you must know.

The rumour mill had recently churned with whispers that you would soon be leaving Japan for an overseas assignment, a rare opportunity for any young sorcerer. The prospect of your departure weighed heavily on Yuta's heart. Having recently returned from Africa, he was hopeful to spend some time alongside you. Just a few short weeks before you had to leave, however, it seemed cruelly short.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the grounds were bathed in a warm orange glow, Yuta gathered the courage to approach you. His heart thudded in his chest as he stepped into the quiet library where you could often be found with a cup of tea whenever you were visiting the establishment. The scent of old tomes and parchment filled the air, creating a cosy atmosphere. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.

"Senpai," he began, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up from your book. You had felt his presence before he had even spoken, the air around the two of you crackling with the tension of unspoken words. You set the tome aside, your delicate fingers brushing against the leather cover. "Okkotsu-kun," you reply politely, your voice like a melody that could soothe the fiercest of spirits. "You're back from Africa," you say, smiling softly at him. "How was your trip?" You gaze softly over his features. He was taller and definitely stronger. His new haircut framed his delicate, handsome features.

Yuta's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, feeling your eyes on him, and he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "It was... enlightening," he managed to say, his mind racing for the right words. He had dreamed of this moment, but now that it was here, he found himself at a loss for what to say. "I heard you'll be leaving soon," he added, trying to keep his voice steady.

Your smile faltered slightly, a hint of sadness creeping into your eyes. "Yes, I've been offered a position abroad," you reply. "It's an opportunity I can't pass up. But I'll miss everyone here."

"I... I just wanted to thank you," he stuttered, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "For everything you've taught me. I wouldn't be where I am without your guidance."

Gojo had asked you to help Yuta upon his admission to the school as a special grade sorcerer almost two years ago now. You weren't keen on having to babysit, and you weren't what anyone would consider a natural at teaching. Keeping yourself to yourself and working alone was more your style. Which was precisely why the man had asked you to spend some time with Yuta. You were a kind woman but also fiercely strong, funny, and understanding. However, you surprisingly found yourself enjoying the time you spent working on missions together. There were a couple of years between the two of you, and you weren't surprised when you sensed his schoolboy crush during your later interactions following The Night Parade of 100 Demons. You'd be lying if you didn't think he was adorable back then and had grown during his time away, you had thought about your newfound feelings towards him in more recent weeks, acknowledging his strength as a sorcerer and what a good man he continues to grow into. But you didn't want to serve as anymore of a distraction for him, and the fact still stood that you would be leaving soon.

You tilted your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "You're welcome, Yuta," you replied warmly. "Your progress was quite remarkable." Your eyes searched his, and for a moment, he thought he saw something flicker in their depths—was it understanding?

The silence stretched between the two of you, thick with unspoken feelings. Yuta's palms grew clammy, and he clenched them into fists at his sides. He had rehearsed this moment a thousand times in his head, but now that he was here, the words felt clumsy and inadequate. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "There's something else I need to tell you," he murmured.

You leaned back in your chair, arms folded under your chest. "Go on," you encouraged, your voice a soft caress that seemed to echo in the quiet library.

Yuta took another step closer, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. He could feel the warmth of your presence, the energy that surrounded you like a comforting blanket. "Senpai," he said, his voice steadying. "I... I have feelings for you. I know it's not proper, and I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I can't keep it to myself anymore. I wanted to be honest with you.... before you leave."

Your smile never wavered, but your eyes searched his, looking for the sincerity behind his words. "Feelings, huh?" You mused, your voice a gentle breeze. "That's quite the confession, Okkotsu-kun."

Yuta nodded, his throat tight with emotion. He had hoped for a positive reaction, but he was prepared for rejection. "I know it's sudden," he said, his voice low. "But I've had these feelings for a long time."

You studied him for a moment, your gaze unreadable. Then, you stood up, closing the gap between the two of you. Your hand reached out and touched his cheek, your skin warm against his. "You're a good man, Yuta," you said, your voice tender. "And a powerful sorcerer. But you're also very young."

Yuta's heart skipped a beat, and he leaned into your touch. "I know," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "But I can't help how I feel."

Your eyes searched his, your thumb gently brushing against his cheekbone. "I appreciate your honesty," you murmur. "But we are in a delicate position. We are both sorcerers, with duties and responsibilities that extend beyond our personal lives."

Yuta nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But I had to tell you. I couldn't keep it bottled up anymore."

Your hand lingered on his cheek, your thumb tracing a small circle. "I appreciate your honesty," you said softly. "It's not every day someone confesses to me like this. I have to say, I'm flattered."

Yuta felt a spark of hope. "Does that mean that you're not completely rejecting me?"

You chuckled lightly, your eyes never leaving his. "It means that I'll think about it," you reply, your voice a gentle caress. "We are sorcerers. Our lives are fraught with danger and responsibility. Love is a precious thing, but it can also be a distraction. You know better than anyone how dangerous it can be."

Yuta's heart sank, but he understood. He knew you were right, but he couldn't help the wave of disappointment that washed over him. "I understand," he murmured, trying to hide his feelings.

You searched his eyes, your gaze piercing. "But I don't want you to think I don't care," you state. "I do. More than you know."

Yuta felt his hope rekindle. "Do you mean..." he trailed off, unable to form the question, his face reddening.

You leaned in closer, your breath a gentle caress on his cheek. "It means," you whispered, "it's a small world of sorcerers, and that I'll be waiting for you to catch up."

#yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #jjk yuuta #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic

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estellan0vella · 5 months ago

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Aftercare ❀ includes: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna & Toji (REQUESTED) Masterlist

Satoru Gojo

Physical Affection: Gojo is incredibly affectionate and tactile after intimate moments. He loves to hold you close, constantly touching you to ensure you're okay.

Playful Teasing: He'll often lighten the mood with playful banter, making sure you're smiling and laughing.

Pampering: Gojo enjoys pampering you with your favourite snacks and drinks, making sure you're comfortable and satisfied.

Verbal Reassurance: He's vocal about his feelings, often whispering sweet nothings and affirmations about how much he loves you.

Massages: Gojo is great with his hands, and he’ll often give you a gentle massage to help you relax.

Drabble:

As you lie in Gojo's embrace, the warmth of his body is comforting against your skin. His fingers trace gentle patterns along your arm, and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

"You know, you get more beautiful every time I see you," he murmurs, his breath tickling your skin. You can't help but giggle, a sound that makes his heart swell.

"You're just saying that," you tease back, but the look in his eyes tells you he means every word.

He shifts slightly, reaching over to the bedside table where a small tray holds your favourite snacks and a bottle of water. "Hungry? Thirsty? Anything you need, just say the word."

You smile, touched by his attentiveness. "Maybe just a little water."

Gojo opens the bottle and helps you take a sip before placing it back on the table. He then starts to gently massage your shoulders, his touch both soothing and intimate.

"You take such good care of me," you say softly, leaning back into his touch.

"And I always will," he replies, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

Suguru Geto

Gentle Silence: Geto often prefers a peaceful and quiet aftercare, letting the silence communicate his love and care.

Baths Together: He enjoys drawing a warm bath for the two of you, using it as a way to relax and reconnect.

Soothing Touches: Geto's touch is gentle and soothing, often brushing through your hair or caressing your back.

Reading Together: He likes to read to you, finding comfort in sharing a book or story as you cuddle.

Incense and Candles: Geto sets a calming atmosphere with incense and candles, creating a serene environment for both of you.

Drabble:

The soft glow of candlelight bathes the room in a warm, golden hue as Geto gently guides you into the bathroom. The scent of lavender fills the air, calming your senses. He’s prepared a luxurious bath, the water perfectly warm and inviting.

“Come, let’s relax,” he says softly, helping you into the tub before sliding in behind you. You lean back against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

For a while, the only sounds are the gentle splashes of water and your synchronized breathing. Geto’s fingers work their way through your hair, untangling knots with a tenderness that makes you melt.

After a while, he reaches for a book on the side of the tub. “How about a story?” he suggests, and you nod, closing your eyes as his smooth voice fills the room.

As he reads, you feel a profound sense of peace and contentment, knowing that in Geto’s arms, you’re safe and cherished.

Kento Nanami

Routine Care: Nanami is methodical and attentive, always ensuring you have everything you need before you even ask.

Healthy Snacks: He prepares healthy snacks and drinks to replenish your energy, often bringing you fresh fruit or a smoothie.

Warmth and Comfort: Nanami loves to wrap you both in a warm blanket, creating a cosy cocoon where you can relax together.

Listening Ear: He’s an excellent listener, encouraging you to share your thoughts and feelings about your experience.

Gentle Reassurance: Nanami provides constant reassurance, reminding you how much you mean to him and how cherished you are.

Drabble:

Nanami’s strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he tucks the blanket around both of you. You’re nestled against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you.

“Good,” you reply, your voice muffled against his skin. “Just a bit tired.”

He nods, understanding. “I made you a smoothie,” he says, reaching over to the bedside table to grab the glass. “It’s packed with nutrients to help you recover.”

You take a sip, the cool, refreshing taste revitalizing you. “Thank you, Kento.”

He kisses the top of your head, a gentle reminder of his affection. “Anything for you.”

As you finish your drink, he holds you even closer, his hands moving in soothing circles on your back. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he murmurs.

You smile against his chest, feeling completely content. “I do now.”

Choso

Protective Instincts: Choso is fiercely protective, always ensuring you feel safe and secure in his arms.

Quiet Comfort: He prefers a quiet and calm atmosphere, often holding you in comfortable silence.

Warm Drinks: Choso likes to make warm drinks, such as tea or hot chocolate, to help you relax.

Soft Words: His words are soft and few, but each one is filled with deep emotion and sincerity.

Physical Closeness: He needs to feel you close, often entwining your bodies and holding you tightly as if to shield you from the world.

Drabble:

Choso’s arms envelop you, his embrace solid and reassuring. You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The room is quiet, filled only with the faint sound of your breathing.

He reaches over to the side table and hands you a mug of steaming tea. “Drink this,” he says softly, his voice a gentle caress. “It’ll help you relax.”

You take a sip, the warmth spreading through you. “Thank you, Choso.”

He nods, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I’m always here for you,” he whispers, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back.

You snuggle closer, feeling his protective presence surrounding you. “I know,” you reply, your voice filled with contentment. “I feel so safe with you.”

Choso’s hold tightens slightly, as if he can shield you from all harm. “And I’ll always keep you safe,” he vows, his words a promise you know he’ll never break.

Ryomen Sukuna

Rough Tenderness: Sukuna’s aftercare is a mix of roughness and surprising tenderness, showing a side of him reserved only for you.

Assertive Care: He’s assertive in ensuring you’re taken care of, making sure you rest and recover properly.

Lavish Attention: Sukuna likes to lavish attention on you, ensuring every need is met, often with an air of dominance.

Silent Affection: His affection is often silent, communicated through his actions rather than words.

Possessive Protection: He’s possessive and protective, making sure you know you’re his and he’ll always take care of you.

Drabble:

Sukuna’s strong hands guide you to lie down, his touch both commanding and gentle. He hovers over you, his intense gaze softening as he takes in your tired form.

“You did well,” he says, his voice a low, rumbling purr. “Now, rest.”

He pulls a blanket over you, tucking you in with surprising care. You watch him, marvelling at the contrast between his usual fierce demeanour and this tender side he shows only to you.

Sukuna sits beside you, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, his eyes burning with possessive affection. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

You smile up at him, feeling a profound sense of belonging. “I know,” you reply softly.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Sleep now,” he commands gently, and you close your eyes, feeling safe and cherished in his presence.

Toji Fushiguro

Practical Care: Toji is practical and straightforward, ensuring your basic needs are met first and foremost.

Comfort Food: He’s likely to cook for you, preparing comfort food that you both enjoy.

Subtle Affection: Toji shows affection in subtle ways, like brushing your hair back or holding your hand.

Protective Presence: He’s protective, always staying close to make sure you’re alright.

Soft Words: Though not overly expressive, his words carry weight, and he makes sure to tell you how much you mean to him in his own way.

Drabble:

Toji’s presence is a comforting weight beside you as he pulls you into his arms. His touch is firm, yet gentle, grounding you in the moment.

“I made us some food,” he says gruffly, his voice a low murmur. “You need to eat.”

He helps you sit up, handing you a plate of your favourite comfort food. The smell alone is enough to make you feel better, and you take a bite, savouring the taste.

“Thanks, Toji,” you say, your voice filled with gratitude.

He nods, his eyes softening as he watches you eat. “Gotta take care of you,” he replies simply, but the emotion in his voice speaks volumes.

After you finish, he pulls you back into his embrace, his hand gently stroking your hair. “You mean a lot to me,” he says quietly, the vulnerability in his words touching your heart.

You snuggle closer, feeling his protective warmth surround you. “I feel the same way,” you whisper back.

Toji’s hold tightens slightly, his silent promise to always be there for you. In his arms, you feel safe, cherished, and loved.

295 notes · View notes

doormatty3 · 11 months ago

Text

Ocean Eyes: Chapter 2 (Orm Marius x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Ocean Eyes Masterlink

Summary:

[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]

The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands. You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour. After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue.

OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock

Wordcount: 5412

The car ride is short and comfortable, the rhythmic hum of the engine accompanying the shared silence between you and Orm.

As the landscape glides past, Orm’s gaze remains fixed on the passing scenery, lost in contemplation. His hand rests firmly on your thigh, and his fingertips trace seemingly random patterns.

Arriving at the burger place near the ocean, you find yourself on a charming pier that extends gracefully over the water. It exudes a quaint and cosy charm, offering both indoor and outdoor seating. You have been here before and hope that Orm will also like it.

You leave the car and notice the bustling atmosphere, a lively mix of people enjoying the seaside ambience. Families, friends, and couples populate the area, creating a vibrant tapestry of seaside enjoyment.

As you lead Orm towards the entrance of the burger place on the pier, you can’t help but notice his gaze wandering, taking in the atmosphere. His eyes seem to absorb the sights, sounds, and smells, curious as if he’s never seen something like that.

A subtle feeling creeps in - that Orm appears somewhat out of place again. There’s something about him, a quality that sets him apart and makes him seem almost otherworldly. You find yourself unable to put your finger on precisely what it is. Still, it lingers in the periphery of your awareness like a gentle whisper of intrigue that tugs at your curiosity.

Perhaps it’s his regal demeanour or how he seems to observe the world with a depth that transcends the ordinary. You scold yourself inwardly to stop thinking about that - it’s probably nothing, only the quirks of a person adapting to unfamiliar surroundings.

As you reach the entrance of the burger place on the pier, you turn to Orm and ask, “Would you like to sit inside or outside?”

There’s a momentary pause, and he seems to grapple with the options as if the distinction between the two is a puzzle he’s attempting to solve for the first time.

Orm stammers slightly before responding, “Uh, outside, if that’s... if that’s fine with you.” His words carry a hint of uncertainty, as though he’s seeking your approval or guidance in navigating this seemingly simple choice.

“Sure. I like to sit at the water more anyway,” you smile at Orm and then turn to the waitress, “Table for two, please, outside if possible.”

The waitress nods, responding, “Yes, please follow me.”

She leads you through the lively pier and sits you at a charming table by the seaside, offering a nice view of the ocean that stretches before you.

As you and Orm settle into your seats, the waitress hands you the menu. With a polite smile, she inquires, “Any allergies?”

You shake your head in response and notice Orm appearing momentarily puzzled, as if the question threw him off again. Eventually, he follows suit and shakes his head.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then. Or do you already know what you want to drink?” the waitress asks, her friendly demeanour adding a pleasant touch to the dining experience.

“I’ll go with a coke,” you tell her with a smile. She nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention to Orm.

“Do you have Guinness?” he asks, his words flowing more fluently this time as if finding comfort in the familiarity of the beverage.

“Yes, sir, we do,” the waitress responds.

“Great, then I’ll take that,” Orm says with a decisive nod.

The waitress acknowledges the order with a nod of her own and then gracefully walks away, leaving you and Orm to view the menu.

You already know what you will be eating: a classic cheeseburger with extra bacon and hand-cut fries, So you cast your gaze to look at the sea, zoning out for a bit and losing yourself in the rhythmic movement of the water.

Orm’s voice interrupts your brief reverie, bringing you back to the present. “So, what’s your fascination with the ocean?” he inquires, his eyes fixed on you with genuine curiosity.

“Hm?” is your thoughtful response, a momentary delay as you process his question and look at him before answering, “I am a marine biologist - so it’s just everything for me.”

You cast your gaze at the sea again, watching the waves as you continue to speak, “For as long as I can remember, I have had a strong love and appreciation for the ocean - of the life beneath the surface, the ecosystem, the marine creatures.”

The sea breeze tousles your hair as you express your love for the sea.

“I think most of my fascination is with the unknown and the many misconceptions people have about the ocean and its inhabitants.” The reflection of the sunlight on the water mirrors the spark in your eyes and you pause for a short moment before continuing, “That they think some animals are just inherently evil. But we - as humans- could learn so much from the ocean if we would just listen .”

You scoff, a touch of frustration colours your voice as you continue, “But they don’t and continue to pollute the waters - kill the life beneath the surface. Destroy ecosystems.”

Your eyes find Orm’s again; he watches you intently, a glint in his eye that you haven’t seen before.

”That’s why I do what I do - to help them see. To help preserve life. There is so much that could be done, but many people don’t know how - and it’s my job to educate them.”

“That’s a noble profession, an honourable calling,” Orm remarks, his blue eyes warm and calm like the ocean void of wind, “But don’t you think it is in vain? Do you really think they can learn?”

“Yes,” your response is immediate and resolute, “No one is inherently evil. But a lot of people lack a sense of direction… And once shown, they adapt and do what they can to better themselves.”

You share a smile with Orm, sensing that he just understands what you mean.

The moment, however, is gently interrupted by the arrival of the waitress, gracefully bearing your drinks.

“Coca-Cola?” she asks, and you raise your hand, replying, “For me.”

She places the drinks in front of you before she speaks again, pen poised over her notepad, “What do you want to eat?”

“A cheeseburger with extra bacon and fries,” you declare, and Orm promptly seconds your choice. The waitress, a warm smile gracing her lips, takes note of your order and retreats.

Orm, with a thoughtful expression, breaks the silence. “You truly believe people can change, then?”

You meet his gaze, the sea breeze playing with your hair. “Absolutely,” you respond. “It’s not about convincing everyone at once. It’s about starting a ripple, making a difference where you can. Education and understanding can be powerful catalysts for change.”

Orm nods, his blue eyes reflecting both curiosity and agreement. “It sounds like you’re on a mission.”

A chuckle escapes you. “Perhaps. But it’s a mission worth undertaking, don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely,” Orm answers, a smile on his lips as he looks at you intensely, making you blush. He leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. “What led you to this path?” he asks, his curiosity evident.

You take a sip of your drink, contemplating the question. “I suppose it was a childhood fascination with the sea. The mysteries it holds, the life beneath its surface. As I grew older, I realised the urgency of preserving that beauty, of correcting the misconceptions that threaten it.”

Orm listens attentively, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “It takes a special kind of dedication to devote your life to something so vast and, at times, misunderstood.”

“The ocean has a way of making you feel both small and connected. It’s a journey of discovery, and every day brings something new,” you tell him, a wistful smile gracing your lips.

You continue to talk, the sun beginning its descent, casting a golden glow over your conversation. The rays seem to elevate Orm’s features, and you can’t help but notice the way his straight nose and defined cheekbones are beautifully illuminated. His blonde hair, still sitting a bit tousled on his head, catches the sunlight and shines in the golden hues.

His blue eyes look impossibly deep in the light; it feels as if the vastness of the ocean is mirrored in his gaze, and you find yourself captivated by the shifting shades within his irises. You feel like if you concentrate enough, you could watch the sunset in them, and they would mirror the exact way the water looks right now – a harmonious blend of oranges, pinks, violets, and cerulean blues.

The waitress arrives with your much-anticipated meals, placing them on the table. Both of you express gratitude with a simultaneous “Thank you.”

You pick up your burger, the warmth radiating from it, and take a satisfying bite. As you savour the taste, you glance over at Orm, curious to see his reaction - if he likes the place you have chosen.

Orm approaches his meal with a hint of anticipation, taking a tentative bite from his burger. Watching him eat is mesmerising - he chews slowly and deliberately as he processes the combination of flavours. A drop of sauce finds its way to the corner of his lip, and with an unconscious grace, he catches it with his tongue.

You observe him nodding appreciatively, his brows lifting slightly in a silent gesture of approval. It’s as if he has just discovered a hidden treasure, and the delightful taste seems to resonate with him. Watching him eat makes you feel like he never had a burger because he looks so genuinely fascinated by it.

He is rather cute right now, and you like how he can be so regal and serious but also so sweet and goofy.

Choosing to shift your focus, you return to your own meal, eating a few fries.

In the corner of your eye, you notice a cockroach making its way across the table. Just as you prepare to intervene, your gaze shifts to Orm, who, in a swift and unexpected move, catches the intruder in his large hand, examining it with a curious expression.

A moment of concern sets in as Orm flexes his fingers, bringing the roach closer to his burger. You fear this might lead to a deadly consequence for the uninvited guest, that Orm may crush it.

Acting on impulse, you speak up, “Don’t kill it.”

Orm looks at you with a puzzled expression and stills in his motion with the roach still cradled in his hand. You take the opportunity to pluck the roach from his fingers gently. Bowing down, you release it onto the ground, allowing it to run away freely.

You find Orm still looking at you with curious eyes and feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks, you mumble, “I don’t like to kill insects, even if they’re annoying.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Respecting all forms of life, even the tiny ones. That’s commendable.”

“Yes, I mean, some of them at least have a use to the ecosystem, and some you can even eat. Both don’t apply to cockroaches though, sadly,” you elaborate under his intensive gaze.

Orm blinks a few times as if processing your words, and then he inquires, “I heard that cockroaches are something that is eaten.”

You shake your head, offering a slight grin, “Nah. Crickets and stuff, yes, but not cockroaches since they are known to carry and spread diseases.”

He gives you a tight-lipped grin, the expression not quite reaching his eyes as he takes another bite from his burger.

“Did I say something wrong?” you ask him, a hint of concern in your voice - his reaction worries you.

His response is immediate as he lays down the burger and reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. “No. No. Not at all.” His blue eyes reflect sincerity and openness. “I was just caught off guard since I thought differently. But everything is fine.”

You smile, relieved by his reassurance, squeezing his hand slightly. “Thank you, Orm.”

As you both finish your meals in comfortable silence, the lighting on the pier gradually comes to life, and they begin to flicker one after another, creating a gentle, welcoming ambience.

It casts a subtle radiance on Orm’s features, the regal quality becoming more pronounced as the gentle play of shadows enhances the lines of his face.

Orm’s gaze wanders, absorbing the evolving spectacle of lights around the pier. His eyes, reflecting the warm glow, sweep across the surroundings, capturing the flickering bulbs, the gentle sway of boats, and the distant outlines of structures bathed in the soft radiance of the evening.

A subtle appreciation plays on his features as he takes in the scene, and you find yourself captivated by the way his eyes navigate the transformed pier.

The waitress returns to your table, a friendly smile on her face as she collects the empty plates. She glances at both of you. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

Your eyes meet Orm’s briefly, and then you turn back to the waitress, “No, thank you. Just the bill, please.”

With a nod, the waitress acknowledges your request, “Alright, I’ll bring that right over.” She takes the empty plates and heads back toward the bustling interior of the restaurant.

The waitress returns with the bill, a small leather folder clasped in her hand. Opening it to reveal the receipt, she glances between you and Orm, asking, “Will you be paying together, or should I split it?”

Before you can respond, Orm steps in, a subtle determination in his voice, “I’ll take care of it.”

You shoot him a grateful look but quickly add, “Orm, you really don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insists, his eyes, intense and unwavering, meet yours.

A warmth settles in your chest at his insistence, and you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks in response to his intensity.

The waitress informs him of the total cost, and Orm reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handful of coins. The currency appears unfamiliar - distinctive, with intricate patterns and unique markings, causing both you and the waitress to exchange curious glances.

Breaking the momentary silence, the waitress gently informs Orm, “Sorry, we only accept dollars here, not foreign currency.”

An almost imperceptible furrow forms on Orm’s brow as he looks down at the money in his hand, and a moment of realisation dawns upon him. You can almost sense his internal struggle, caught between the unfamiliarity of the situation and the desire to settle the bill.

Without saying anything or making a huge deal, you smoothly reach into your wallet, pulling out enough dollars to cover the bill and a generous tip. With a friendly smile, you hand the money to the waitress.

“Have a good evening,” you add warmly, and the waitress reciprocates the sentiment. As she departs, you turn your attention back to Orm, offering an encouraging smile.

Orm’s eyes meet yours, appreciative yet carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“I’m sorry,” Orm says, a tinge of frustration and embarrassment evident in his voice. “I forgot about that.”

You respond with a reassuring smile, and without a second thought, you reach out, brushing your hand gently over his cheek. When you see the way his eyes widen a bit and he looks at you in wonder, you know that it was the right call.

“Oh, don’t worry, I get it,” you assure him, your fingers tracing the contours of his cheek, noting the texture of his stubble beneath your touch and the warmth he emanates. “You can get the next one,” you suggest, pulling back your hand.

Orm responds with a toothy smile, genuine and warm, the expression reaching all the way to his eyes.

You both get up and leave the restaurant to stroll along the pier, your hand brushing on Orms as you walk. Part of you would like to just take his hand - you have kissed, after all, but you’re not sure if that’s fine for him.

“So, by being from far away, you meant Europe then?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you as that was the first thing that came to mind.

Orm nods in agreement, and you decide not to press further, sensing his reluctance to delve into the topic.

The pier gradually becomes less crowded as you and Orm move towards its edge, and the rhythmic sound of the waves beneath grows louder in turn. The lights along the pier continue to illuminate the surroundings, creating a gentle glow that adds to the enchanting atmosphere.

The sky, now mainly adorned in shades of deep blue, cradles the last remnants of daylight along the horizon. A narrow strip of it retains a warm afterglow, casting the tranquil sea in a soft gleam.

You and Orm come to a halt as you reach the end of the pier, overlooking the water.

The sea reflects the transitioning sky, creating a mesmerising dance of colours on its surface. As the daylight wanes, the sea takes on a deep, mysterious navy blue, mirroring the vast expanse above. The rhythmic movements of the waves hold a subtle elegance, their crests catching the remnants of sunlight and transforming them into liquid silver.

The small ripples sparkle in the fading light, creating a celestial reflection that mirrors the ever-changing hues of the sky and the soft lights on the pier.

As you stand at the edge of the sea together, gazing out into the expansive ocean, Orm takes your hand - warm, large, and unexpectedly soft with his long fingers.

Reflecting on the day, you realise it has been unexpectedly beautiful - it still is. When you first met Orm on the beach, you couldn’t have anticipated this.

You have never met someone who shares the same profound love for the sea, but with him, it is a connection that flows effortlessly like a smooth, unhurried river.

Orm’s voice, quiet yet resonant, breaks the stillness. “Thank you,” he says, his eyes fixed on the ever-moving sea.

You turn to face him, your own expression reflecting curiosity. “For what?” you inquire, uncertain about the reason for his gratitude.

“For the day,” he responds, his gaze still tethered to the horizon. The soft glow of twilight illuminates his features, allowing you to trace the contours of his side profile with your eyes.

A genuine smile graces your lips as you squeeze his hand in acknowledgement, unsure of how to respond.

The comfortable silence wraps around you, lingering for a moment before you gather the courage to break it.

“It doesn’t have to be over yet, you know,” you say, the words escaping your lips with a hint of nervous excitement.

Orm turns his head swiftly to face you, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you continue, feeling a bit breathless, “I think you’d like the aquarium I own.”

Your heart beats a bit faster because, oh god, you just invited Orm over to your place - handsome and a tad strange Orm, with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.

A warm smile graces Orm’s features as he nods in agreement. “Lead the way.”

______

Street lanterns and the soft glow of stars guide the way as you drive over the coastal road to your house.

As you approach, the one-story building comes into view, overlooking the ocean below, with stairs leading down to a dock, a garage for water vessels and the beach. Even in the dark, it is apparent that it is made from dark wood that harmonises with the natural surroundings.

“Well, here we are,” you say to Orm and turn off the engine after you park your car.

Both of you step out, and you watch as Orm takes in the details of your house.

“This is really nice,” he says, looking at you, a fondness in his blue eyes.

“Thank you,” you reply, smiling. “Wait until you see the inside.”

With that, you lead the way to the door, unlocking it to welcome both of you inside. Turning on the lights, you close the door behind Orm before taking off your shoes.

You notice a brief moment of confusion on Orm’s face, his brows furrowed as if he’s perplexed by the act of removing shoes indoors. Nonetheless, he follows your example, mirroring your actions with a subtle curiosity.

You love your house, as it’s a reflection of who you are. The walls are adorned with various pictures and paintings, capturing scenic views and wildlife scenes. A massive windowfront facing the sea with garden furniture outside offers a serene spot for looking at the ocean. For rainy days, you have a cosy sofa perfectly positioned to enjoy the view.

Orm’s eyes wander around your home, curiosity evident in his gaze. They trace over the pictures, examining the various trinkets and charms that give your house its character. His gaze eventually settles on the highlight of your home - a huge aquarium that spans an entire wall.

When you built it, you decided upon those dimensions to allow for a diverse and thriving marine ecosystem.

As the overhead lights cast a gentle glow, the aquarium reveals a spectrum of colours and movements. Coral formations, in various shapes and hues, provide shelter for a multitude of fish. Small, darting figures in every shade imaginable navigate the intricate structure, their scales catching the light and creating a dazzling dance of colours. Seahorses, graceful and delicate, cling to the swaying fronds of seaweed.

The water, crystal clear and carefully maintained, magnifies the beauty of the inhabitants within. Anemones sway in the gentle current, and schools of fish move in unison, creating an ever-shifting symphony of aquatic life. It’s a tranquil yet lively spectacle that brings the wonders of the ocean directly into your home.

As Orm moves closer to the aquarium, his eyes fixate on the intricate details of the underwater world. The gentle hum of the water filter provides a soothing backdrop to the vibrant display. His gaze traces the contours of coral formations, follows the movements of fish, and lingers on the seahorses.

You watch as he leans in a bit as if drawn into the underwater realm. The overhead lights cast a subtle glow on his features. For a moment, the regal air about him softens, and you see a genuine sense of wonder in his eyes.

“Wow,” he says, his voice hushed in awe, “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

You can’t help but smile as you respond, “I’m glad you like it.”

As you both stand there, watching the aquarium, you notice that the soft glow from it reflects in Orm’s eyes, creating a harmonious blend of colours.

“It’s like having a piece of the ocean at home,” you add, happy to share this with someone who appreciates it as much as you.

Orm slowly turns away from the mesmerising aquarium, his eyes still reflecting the underwater spectacle.

With a gentle yet firm touch, Orm reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel a magnetic pull drawing you closer. His blue eyes lock onto yours, searching for something in the depths of your gaze, and you swallow dryly.

Closing the distance, he leans in, and his kiss is soft and deliberate. Responding instinctively, your hands find their place on his strong shoulders, fingers tracing the contours of his well-defined muscles.

He hums pleased and deepens it, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer into his thick frame. You taste hints of the cheeseburger he enjoyed, the lingering notes of the beer he had, and something uniquely him that defies easy description but is absolutely delicious.

The warmth of Orm’s embrace envelops you, and his hands, initially gentle, now hold you with a firm and possessive grip. There’s an undeniable urgency in the way he pulls you closer as if trying to bridge any remaining distance.

He begins to trail a series of kisses down your neck, each touch leaving a lingering warmth in its wake. As he reaches the junction between your neck and shoulder, he pauses, sinking his teeth into your skin with a sharp intensity. A quiet hiss escapes your lips, and your grip on his shoulders tightens in response. Orm soothes the sensation with the caress of his tongue before resuming the journey upward, placing gentle kisses along the column of your throat and inhaling your scent.

“Orm,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in his hair, gently guiding his head back up to meet your lips in another kiss. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you can’t help but register how soft his hair feels beneath your touch.

Orm’s hands explore your body with heightened intensity, each touch sending a wave of heat through the fabric of your clothes.

When he pulls back, his breath comes out in heavy, rhythmic waves. His hair is already tousled from your fingers running through it, and his eyes, fiery blue, reflect the intensity of the moment, while his lips bear the deliciously pinkened evidence of your shared kisses.

Breaking the silence, Orm speaks with a low and surprisingly severe voice, “Do you want to take this somewhere else?” His gaze shifts to the aquarium, and his expression suggests a genuine concern. “I’d rather not have spectators.”

A surprised chuckle escapes you as you realise Orm might actually be serious about the fish in the aquarium. You raise an eyebrow, playfully questioning, “Spectators, really?”

Orm nods with a solemn expression and a faint smirk, adding, “They’re judging eyes.”

You can’t help but burst into laughter again, shaking your head. “Okay, let’s get somewhere private, then.” You guide him towards the bedroom, wondering if the fish truly appreciate the unexpected concern for their modesty.

The fleeting thoughts quickly dissipate as Orm is on you again, his lips finding yours in a deep and fervent kiss before he buries his face in your neck, leaving wet kisses that send shivers down your spine.

Pressing against him, you feel the heat radiating from his body and the firmness of his muscles as well as his hard cock. You grind your hips harder on his groin, desperate for some friction and more of the electric spark that every touch from Orm seems to give you.

You physically feel him groan into your skin, a deep, feral sound that reverberates through his chest.

Suddenly, you feel frenzied to get him out of his clothes, to see him naked, to touch his skin. So you tuck on his shirt, pulling it upwards.

Orm, getting the hint, separates from you and takes it off, letting it fall to the floor.

Before you have time to appreciate his naked upper body, he lets his hands wander under the hem of your shirt to pull it off you, too - which you let him do without resistance.

Then, with a sudden and assertive move, Orm grabs you by the shoulders, guiding you towards the bed. The motion catches you off guard; the change in him is so quick that you don’t have time to react.

Orm’s mouth descends upon yours again, a cascade of passionate kisses and teasing nips at your lips as he bites down on your bottom lip before running his tongue over it.

As the back of your knees meets the edge of the bed, he pushes you down, and you find yourself lying on your back.

Finally, you have time to appreciate his form.

As Orm stands before you, the soft glow of the room’s dim light dances over the planes of his body, creating a mesmerising interplay of shadows and highlights.

Orm’s hair is tousled, a delightful disarray from your previous encounters and frames his face in a way that adds a hint of wildness to his regal appearance. The light dances on the strands, highlighting the varied shades of blonde.

His eyes, an intensely deep shade of blue, seem to capture the ambient light like the ocean capturing the moon’s glow. The fire within those eyes hasn’t diminished; if anything, it has intensified, turning them into pools of desire and unrestrained passion.

His physique, chiselled with remarkable precision, seems almost otherworldly in its perfection.

The defined lines of his muscles catch your attention, each one sculpted to perfection as if carven by a Greek master aeons ago. The play of shadows accentuates the curves of his arms, the contours of his chest, and the lines of his abdomen. Every movement he makes is a testament to the vigour and elegance that defines him.

Your eyes trace the contours of Orm’s arms. The sight of his substantial biceps commands your focus, the muscles rippling with strength and power. Your gaze follows the prominent vein that courses along the expanse of his arm, tracing its path down to his forearms.

The play of light and shadow accentuates every curve and crevice, revealing a level of physicality that borders on the divine.

The forearms subtly flex with each miniature movement, a testament to the latent strength within. Your gaze lingers on his hands, large and commanding, the fingers thick and long. There’s a certain elegance in the way those hands move, a grace that contradicts their sheer size and power.

Moving lower, your attention shifts to his defined chest that expands with each breath. You marvel at the expansive breadth of his pectoral muscles. The perfect symmetry of his six-pack draws your gaze, each abdominal muscle pronounced and sculpted.

Your focus descends even lower, and you see the way his cock is straining against the fabric of his pants, the bulge prominent. You swallow and involuntarily lick your lips in anticipation.

Desperate to feel his skin, you reach out to touch Orm’s chest.

His muscles are firm and warm beneath your touch as you trace idle patterns.

You’d have expected him to touch you now and let his fingers wander over your bare skin, but he seems to have frozen. So you look up to meet his eyes - instead of that fiery passion, they now carry a hint of uncertainty.

Orm’s gaze wanders between you and the surroundings as if grappling with elusive thoughts that demand his attention. The intensity that coloured his actions moments ago wavers, leaving behind a quiet vulnerability that puzzles you.

You furrow your brows. What happened to that intense, headstrong man who felt like an unwavering current?

His hair frames his face, and the blue of his eyes, though still vibrant, now mirrors a spectrum of emotions. There’s a depth to his expression, a silent turmoil beneath the surface, a vortex consuming him, pulling him under.

As you study Orm’s features, you sense the weight of something unsaid, and you feel it radiating off him in waves.

Your fingertips gently brush against Orm’s cheek as you reach out in a tender gesture. “Are you okay?” you inquire softly, searching his eyes for any sign of what might be troubling him.

His response is delayed, a moment of hesitation that lingers in the air. Sensing his reluctance to share, you decide to act on a more intuitive level. You reach out and pull him towards you so he also rests on the bed, cradled in your embrace.

“I’m here,” you murmur, the words whispered against his ear as you hold him close.

Orm shudders against you, his breath grazing your bare skin. It’s evident that he wrestles with unspoken thoughts, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue.

So you decide to lift the weight on his shoulders, and you offer a simple directive, “Let’s just sleep for now. No need to worry about anything.”

As he nestles into your embrace - finally returning it - the tension dissipates from his body, replaced by the comforting rhythm of your shared warmth.

Your fingers continue their soothing patterns on his back, a gentle effort to anchor him and not let him be adrift in the sea of his thoughts until you both fall asleep.

The last coherent thought lingering in your mind is that you wouldn’t mind having more moments like this with him - moments that make you feel safe, whole, and strangely content. Only when you feel the soft warmth of his smile against your neck, followed by a tender kiss, you realise that you’ve spoken out loud.

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