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Moth To A Flame | JJK & KMG | 02

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader x Kim Mingyu Genre|tags: Idol!au, series, established relationship, infidelity, lots of angst, lots of drama, smut, fluff. Word count: 10.6k Rating: Explicit adult content (MINORS DNI). Chapter warnings: Mentions of BTS hiatus and the military service (yes, it’s a warning), mentions of reader being older than Jungkook (just a couple of months), domestic af, SMUT, oral (f receiving), fingering, petnames, explicit language. If there's more, please let me know. A/N: Chapter three will probably be released at the end of december. At the moment, I’m focusing on something I think you’ll really enjoy, and I want to finish it as soon as possible, which will leave me with little time to edit chapter three. Anyway, enjoy reading! Tags: @mansaaay, @nbjch05, @nejiiiiiiii, @cherrylovescheol, @ninigyuuu, @roseki, @callmemadhatter, @rosewithlxv17, @amandatrain

Summary: Four years ago, you crossed paths with a charming member of the K-pop group Seventeen during their tour stop in Osaka. The two of you shared three intense, unforgettable days before life took you in different directions. It was painful for both of you, but you knew you couldn’t take things any further and had to say goodbye. Now, back in Seoul for good, you’re in a new relationship with another idol: Jeon Jungkook—whose charm and stability make him everything you thought you wanted. You are very much in love with him, and as your connection deepens, it feels like your life is finally falling into place. That is, until you meet one of your boyfriend’s best friends and are stunned to discover it’s the same man you fell for in Osaka all those years ago. As buried emotions resurface and secrets begin to unravel, you find yourself torn between these two men, caught in a whirlwind of love and conflict, testing the boundaries of loyalty and the choices that could change everything.

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It was early in the morning when you found yourself in Jungkook’s kitchen with Bam at your heels, preparing breakfast for the two of you. From where you stood, you could hear the sound of water running and Jungkook’s voice belting out a perfect high note from the bathroom, filling the entire apartment.

You moved around the kitchen with ease, the familiar surrounding comforting as you scooped rice from the cooker and moved it into two bowls on the counter. Bam, ever the eager assistant, watched you closely, his thin tail wagging as he caught the scent of Jungkook’s mom's kimchi leftovers from last night when you opened the container.

“Are you hungry, Bamie?” you asked playfully, giving him a gentle scratch behind his ears. As if he understood you completely, he responded with an enthusiastic bark, making you laugh. “Just a minute, buddy.”

A whole week had passed since the night you met Jungkook’s friends, and consequently, a whole seven days since you’d last seen Mingyu. Since that night, you simply hadn't allowed yourself to think about it at all, not wanting to waste a single minute reliving his words or his reactions to your presence, or even the way your body had responded to his.

You've filled every second of your day with work and Jungkook, not giving yourself time to process the events of last week. You chose to completely bury the feelings from that night, convincing yourself that staying busy was the best way to cope.

The rush of photoshoots, meetings, and moments like this, preparing meals with Bam at your feet, the routine and domestic life with Jungkook has kept you from overthinking everything—and so far, it has been working perfectly well for you and your anxiety around the subject.

The only times your thoughts drifted back to Mingyu and that night at the restaurant were when you tried to summon the courage to tell Jungkook everything.

On the nights when you were alone in your apartment, lying in your bed and staring at the ceiling, you weighed the idea of coming clean to him, of laying everything out in the open, hoping he’d be able to understand. Yet, each time you got close to letting the truth spill out, the words seemed to vanish from your brain before they managed to escape your lips.

Maybe it was the fear of shattering the world you’d built together, losing him forever, or turning nothing into something. You just knew that whatever it was, the mere thought of losing the peace you had with Jungkook felt like more than either of you could bear. So, you let the conversation slip away and bury it once again.

But every now and then, in your quietest moments, you feared even more that the dam you’d built around your emotions might crack sooner than later. You were so afraid Mingyu would be braver than you and decide it to tell Jungkook everything, the thought simply gnawed at you, knowing you had no control over it.

So far, he has been silent. Very much different from your mind, that was still tangled with questions you didn’t feel ready to confront yet. Although, before you even could allow yourself to find the answers to them, you decided it would be better to push all the thoughts about Mingyu away.

You told yourself that whatever had happened, whatever had flickered to life in that brief moment with Mingyu that night, was insignificant. It was easier this way, to concentrate on Jungkook and your relationship, to keep your world with him simple and untouched by secrets or memories from your past.

Why risk igniting questions or insecurities over something you were convinced had no relevance in your future?

Besides, even after everything that night, you still felt no need to look back or reconsider your relationship with Jungkook. There was no reason to dwell on fleeting moments, feelings or people you had long since moved on from.

Right?

As you were setting the food on the small kitchen dining table, you could hear the gentle hiss of the shower shutting off, signaling that Jungkook was done and would join you in a couple of minutes.

You poured the freshly brewed coffee into your two usual mugs, the aroma mingling with the scent of kimchi and rice, making your stomach rumble. At the same time, Bam let out a soft whine, his eyes flicking from the bowls to you, clearly hoping for a bite.

“You’re so hungry, aren’t you?” you leaned down to kiss the dog’s head, voice shifting to the soft, affectionate baby tone reserved exclusively for him. He licked your face in response. “Yes you are, my baby.”

You got up again and made your way down the length of the pantry toward the cabinets where Bam’s food was stored. He trailed behind you eagerly, his tail wagging when picked up on what you were going to do, his excitement growing with each step you took.

Quietly, you moved around, passing neatly stacked jars and spices until you reached the right cabinet, shaking the package slightly to tease him. Bam's tail wagged furiously, another whine escaping him as he danced around your legs.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, baby,” you chuckled, crouching down to scoop out his breakfast in his bowl. The sound of kibble hitting his bowl was music to his ears, and he immediately dove in, devouring the meal like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

"Is your eomma being mean to you, Bamie?" you heard Jungkook’s voice behind you, sensing his warm presence close by. “Does appa need to punish her?”

Looking over your shoulder, you found him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his abs on full display, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His dark hair was a damp mess, falling into his eyes, and yet he looked absolutely radiant, a perfect blend of boyish charm and irresistible allure. His posture was calm, peaceful, completely different from the tense one he had carried so often these past few days.

So much has been on his shoulders lately. The past few weeks had been a blur of busy days and late nights with BTS latest comeback, and though Jungkook tried his best to keep his energy up, you could sense the weight of the things he was carrying floating in the air between the two of you.

You caught the strain in those brief moments when he thought you weren’t watching, because, not so unfortunately for him, you were always watching, just as he did with you.

You noticed it in the subtle signs he couldn’t quite hide—the sadness lingering in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the rare moments when his smile didn’t quite reach those warm, sparkling doe orbs, the pauses mid-sentence as though he was carefully weighing what he could reveal to you. Everything was there and you could see it perfectly, because you knew him like the back of your hand.

You respected his need for privacy, of course, but it hurted your heart to see him bearing his struggles with the way the media was handling the news of BTS hiatus all on his own. And as if that wasn't enough, there were the on-going conversations about military service and the pressure of his up-coming solo projects.

Everything had left you wishing you could share the weight of his burdens, to let him lean on you the way he so effortlessly allowed you to lean on him.

You’d tried encouraging him to open up, reminding him he didn’t have to go through it alone. But Jungkook had a way of steering the conversation away from his worries, brushing off your concern with a gentle kiss, a reassuring smile, a quick joke, or a change of subject, as if he were trying to convince you that everything would be fine, forgetting that it was actually him who needed that reminder.

You’d never push him; you knew Jungkook well enough to know he would talk when he was ready. So, for now, you decided to keep things positive and light, to be his summer Sun, a respite from everything else in his life.

Which meant not thinking about Mingyu and not thinking about the past.

Watching Jungkook, seeing the effort he put into maintaining his usual brightness lately, you decided that this subject could wait—Jungkook's happiness was more important than anything else.

You watched as Bam, mid-chew, paused to glance between the two of you, his tail wagging in earnest now that both his favorite people were in the same room.

Jungkook walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“You know you’re just jealous because I’m his favorite,” you scoffed at him, looking down at the dog, your tone of voice shifting again. “Right, Bamie? Who’s your favorite?”

Bam barked once and rubbed his head on your legs as if confirming your statement, and Jungkook let out a dramatic groan, throwing his head back.

“Traitor,” he muttered, but you could see the way his eyes crinkled with laughter. “You like pretty girls who give you treats, huh?”

You laughed, leaning back into his embrace. “Well, if you wagged your tail like he does, maybe I’d give you treats too.”

“Careful, I just might,” he whispered into your ear, his voice low and playful. “Good morning, doll.”

“Good morning,” you replied, your smile widening as he nestled you even closer into his warmth, you both walking back to the kitchen like this. “How’d you sleep?”

His fingers slowly started to trace gentle patterns along your hips. "Perfectly, with you here,” he planted a kiss on your shoulder. “How long have you been awake?"

"Not long," you said with a shrug. “My bio clock woke me up earlier than usual, so I took the opportunity to prepare breakfast early.”

Jungkook hummed softly in response, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering against your skin as if he couldn’t bear to pull away. “Feeling anxious?”

You pouted, nodding your head. “Just a little bit.”

“How is your day looking?” he asked, brushing your hair to the side so he could rest his head on your shoulder.

"Busy,” you answered with a soft sigh, leaning into his touch. “I’ve got (G)I-DLE’s Yuqi’s photoshoot for Elle’s July issue, lunch with my brother, and later in the afternoon, that meeting with the head of Hybe’s fashion department.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his thumb brushing lightly against your hip bone. “Wow, look at you, all busy and important,” he said, his voice dripping with playful admiration. “Did they tell you why they contacted you during the phone call?”

“No, they didn’t give much detail,” you explained, turning to face him fully and wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s neck as his immediately founding their way to your hips. “Just said it was urgent and that they’d explain everything in person. Something about a group, but I didn't quite catch it.”

Yesterday, you received a call from Hybe’s fashion department requesting a meeting with you at the company building this afternoon. You were in the middle of changing models outfits for the magazine photoshoot in a spot with poor reception, and you could barely make out what the woman on the other end was saying. All you’d understood was that it was urgent and had something to do with one of their group's demands.

The email wasn’t much more informative, simply stating that you had an interview scheduled for today with Kim Injae, the head of the department, and it left you unsure of what to expect or how to prepare for the meeting.

You watched as Jungkook tilted his head, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “A group? What do you think they meant by that?”

“I’m not sure,” you admitted, a small frown forming on your face. “Maybe they want me for a collaboration or a campaign?”

He leaned back slightly, his dark eyes deep in thought. “Could be,” he murmured. Then his face lit up, a grin spreading as if he’d reached a brilliant conclusion. "Do you think they will bring you back to work with us?"

Your eyes widened at Jungkook's suggestion, and you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "Highly doubt it. We both know why I left, and I don’t think they’d want to revisit that."

It wasn't that simple, even though you wish it was. Hybe was a very strict company when it came to the line between personal relationships and professionalism. You being with Jungkook was exactly why you’d stepped away in the first place. You doubted they would give you the position back now that the lines were already blurred.

Jungkook tapped his fingers lightly against your left hip, his thoughtful gaze never leaving yours. Then he raised one hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he stared at you with a knowing look.

“Well, Soobin told me last week that TXT was looking for a new stylist. Maybe you’re it.”

Your breath hitched slightly at the suggestion. The possibility had crossed your mind, but you’d pushed it aside, not wanting to place expectations.

“I don’t know. It’s possible, I guess,” you shrugged. “I hate being left in suspense. It could be something big or it could be nothing at all."

You weren’t much of a fan of suspense, and the lack of information they’d provided was making you anxious. It wasn’t as if this was your first job interview or anything new in your field. Still, an inexplicable sense of premonition crept into your nerves, and you couldn’t quite figure out why.

Trying to shake off the unease that was building in your chest, you let out a slow breath. It didn’t make sense to be so on edge—after all, you’d been in this industry for long enough to know that these things were par for the course.

“All I know is that it’s urgent, since they stressed that they needed to see me today.”

“It’s something big, I’m sure,” Jungkook encouraged you, planting a kiss on your temple and intertwining his fingers with yours. “You’ve been killing it lately, so it wouldn’t surprise me if they wanted to work with you on something major.”

You just loved the way he was your number one fan, always encouraging you no matter what. A smile crept onto your face at his words. “You really think so?”

His expression softened. “I’m sure of it. Whatever it is, you’ve got this. You’ve done this job before, and you’re damn good at it. They’d be lucky to have you back.”

His words made you smile, easing some of the tension in your chest.

“I just wish I knew what to expect.”

“Do you want me to investigate? I'll call Namjoon hyung and—”

You laughed, cutting him off with a shake of your head. “No, absolutely not. You are not calling Namjoon to dig around for me.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a mischievous grin. “Why not? He owes me for covering for him in the last practice.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I can handle this on my own. Besides, the last thing I need is for them to think I’m sending you in as my spy.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, untangling your fingers to raise his hands in mock surrender. “But if you change your mind, just say the word. My investigative services are always available for you, free of charge.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You offered him a small smile, pressing your forehead against his. "And I appreciate the vote of confidence. It means a lot knowing you've got my back.”

“Baby, I’ll always be right here to celebrate your wins, no matter how big or small.” His voice was calm but firm. He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles.

Your heart softened again at his words. "Thanks, Kook," you said quietly, meeting his gaze. "That means a lot."

"Always," he replied simply, his voice steady and sincere.

Sometimes, you wondered if leaving Hybe to preserve your relationship with Jungkook had been a terrible decision. But it was moments like this that reminded you the reason why you didn’t regret it for a single second. He would always be your choice—again and again.

“Oh, man!” he groaned, throwing his head back. “I'm going to have to warn those kids to stay the hell away from you. Yeonjun is a charmer!”

You snorted, shaking your head at Jungkook’s dramatic reaction. “Oh, please. I’ll be there to work, not to be swept off my feet by some gen z heartthrob.”

He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I’m just saying. Yeonjun’s a smooth talker, and if you’re not careful, he might try to charm his way into your good graces. I know how those guys operate. And since when do you think he's a heartthrob?"

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to poke his chest. “Are you jealous, Jeon Jungkook?”

“Me? Jealous?” He scoffed, though his ears turned a suspicious shade of pink. You couldn’t help but smile at the slight whine in his tone. “I’m just being protective. Big difference.”

“Right,” you said, drawing out the word teasingly. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m immune to charm when it comes to work. Plus, I already have someone way more charming than Yeonjun could ever hope to be.”

Jungkook tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

You grinned, running your fingers through his still damp hair. “This buff tattooed dude I know.”

He let out a soft laugh, pulling you closer by your waist, the heat of his bare chest warming you through the shirt you were wearing—his shirt.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Besides, I don’t even like younger guys.”

Jungkook chuckled, eyebrows arching as his gaze sharpened with amusement. Pulling you even closer, he teased, “Oh, really? You do realize I’m four months younger than you, right?”

With a soft laugh, you brushed strands of hair from his forehead, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“The only exception."

A quiet groan escaped him as he leaned into your touch on his face, his shoulders relaxing as your fingers gently threaded through his hair, eyes slowly closing.

“Good. Because I was about to say, I’m pretty sure I’ve already ruined you for anyone else.”

You rolled your eyes again, your laughter filling the kitchen. “Cocky much?”

He smiled genuinely with his lips almost closed, only the upper front teeth showing, his cheeks pushing up and nose wrinkling a bit, making your heart squeeze in love. His eyes stayed closed, but his expression was unmistakably Jungkook, full of fondness and something so inherently him that you couldn’t help but stare, savoring every detail of his face. It was your favorite kind of smile on him.

"Well," his voice low and teasing as he lifted your left leg to hook on his hip, pressing your back to the kitchen island. “I like the idea of being the only one in your life.”

You bit your bottom lip, suppressing a smile, your heart thudding against your ribs as Jungkook’s words sent a thrill through you. His fingers tightened slightly on your thigh, holding your leg firmly against his hip, his body pressing you deeper into the counter.

You shook your head, letting your fingernails trail along his jaw. "Pretty sure you already are, you know, since I’m in love with you and everything."

He peeked at you with one eye, a playful grin tugging at his lips. Then he fully opened his eyes—those soft, doe-like eyes sparkling as his tongue teased his lip ring. His gaze lingered on yours for a moment before dropping to your lips.

“I love hearing that.”

"And you know," you murmured, tilting your head to the side, your voice breathless as your hands traveled up his chest. "I’m already yours."

His eyes darkened, a pleased smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah?” he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Guess I just like reminding you.”

Before you could respond, Jungkook’s hand found the back of your neck, his fingers threading gently through your hair as he closed the little space between you and captured your mouth in a kiss. His lips claimed yours, lifting no room for hesitation, only raw, unfiltered need. You responded instinctively, arms wrapping around his neck again as his tongue slipped between your parted lips, his mouth exploring yours with an intensity that sent heat straight through you.

The way he kissed you—like he was starving, like you were the only thing he ever craved—made your mind spin. You wanted nothing less than to be devoured by him.

Jungkook moved with purpose, hands skimming down your back until they landed on your hips, his fingers gripping with just enough pressure to pull a quiet gasp from you. In one smooth motion, he broke the kiss and lifted you, setting you onto the counter, his body fitting between your legs as if it belonged there. Now at eye level, he looked into your eyes for a heartbeat, his own dark and searching. His hands slipped under the hem of your sleeping shirt and then his mouth was on you again, trailing down your jaw to your neck, leaving a line of warm, open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver.

Your head tilted back, breath hitching as his lips continued their slow exploration down your throat. The way his fingers traced your bare skin sent a shiver through you, your nipples hardening instantly, and you could feel his smile against your neck, clearly amused by the effect he had on you.

His fingers danced just shy of where you desperately craved his touch, teasingly tracing the curve of your breasts without quite making contact. Each barely-there caress sent sparks of desire racing through your veins, and you could feel his growing hardness pressing against you, igniting something primal deep within.

Heat pooled inside you as his hands tightened around your waist, anchoring you against him. You rolled your hips instinctively, drawing a low, guttural groan from him that reverberated between your kisses and sent a throbbing ache straight to your core.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the firm planes under your fingers as you held him close. He let out a low, appreciative hum, your lips meeting again as you draw his lower lip between yours to feel the cool press of his piercing against your mouth. That was all the encouragement he needed to collide your lips completely, holding you steady as he took the kiss deeper.

His hand slid up your thighs, their warmth igniting your skin as they circled your waist before settling possessively on the soft curves of your ass. The sensation sent a thrill through you, and his hand, still resting on your ass, pulled you closer, pressing your clothed clint against the hardness of his crotch and making you moan.

“Kook, fuck…” you cursed against his lips, fingers curling into his hair, wanting him closer, wanting more.

When his fingers started to travel south, you could already feel your panties soaked and sticking to your pussy. The effect Jungkook had on you could probably be studied by experts and still, no humanly explainable answers would be found.

“Are you wet for me, doll?”

Jungkook's voice was low, a teasing edge to it that sent a shiver down your spine. You knew it was a half rhetorical question, because not much later his thumb hooked under the edge of your lacy panties and moved them aside to check it himself.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a whimper, but it only made his smirk grow wider.

“I asked you a question,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “Are you wet for me?”

Slowly and deliberately, his fingers parted your slick folds, his touch both teasing and tempting. His thumb hovered over your clit, not quite touching, just lingering there, driving you wild with anticipation.

Your breath hitched, and you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Fuck, yes!”

“Good girl,” he said, his tone dark and dripping with satisfaction, starting to rub your clit nice and slow. “Such an obedient little doll. Always so wet for me.”

A shiver coursed through you as his thumb circled your most sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through your body. When his first finger slipped inside you with ease, a soft moan escaped your lips. When he added a second, stretching you just enough to make your head spin, your breath hitched, voice trembling as you moaned his name again.

“God, how are you so tight?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. His voice was low and rough. “So perfect for me. Just for me, yeah?”

Jungkook's dark eyes never left yours, watching your every reaction closely as his fingers worked you with a precision that left you breathless. He wasn’t asking you a question, he was making a statement and you knew it: you’re his and no one else.

His thumb circled your clit again in quick movements, while his fingers curled inside you, hitting just the right spot with each thrust.

“Baby,” you gasped, your voice breaking into a needy cry as he found that perfect spot deep inside you, sending a surge of ecstasy through your trembling body.

“Feels good, doll?”

“So good, Kook. Fuck!”

Your hands gripped his shoulders as ripples of bliss rolled through you. His name fell from your lips like a prayer again and again, each moan driving him further into his focused rhythm. His pace quickened, his movements more insistent as he watched every reaction your body gave him.

Your back arched, and your breath came in short gasps, the tension inside you coiled tighter and tighter, every nerve alight with anticipation. And then he stopped, pulling back just as you teetered on the edge.

A desperate whimper escaped your lips.

“Kook, what—”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and teasing, his breath warm against your skin. “Calm down,” he murmured, his lips curving into a wicked smile. “I want to taste you. Lay down for me, baby.”

Jungkook’s command sent a rush of lust through you, leaving no room for hesitation. You leaned back against the counter, your body already trembling under his intense gaze as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His hands gripped your thighs gently but firmly, spreading them more apart as he trailed kisses along the sensitive skin.

He leaned forward, his breath ghosting over your core and you couldn’t help but gasp. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties, he pulled them down slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. The tension in the air was thick, each second stretching into an eternity as he took in the sight of you laid bare before him.

“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look like this?” he murmured, his voice and eyes thick with desire.

Before you could even respond or shy away under his gaze, his jaw parted, and his pink tongue darted out, licking a bold stripe from your entrance to your clit with deliberate, agonizing precision.

A curse and a moan escaped your lips, your body arching into his touch. Your hands slid under the oversized shirt you wore, desperate to grasp your neglected breasts, fingers tugging at your sensitive peaks.

Your image makes Jungkook’s hands tighten their grip on your thighs, pulling you closer to his eager mouth and you gasped, a surprised yelp escaping when you slid down slightly on the counter beneath you.

A breathless laugh tumbled from your parted lips but melted into a new moan as his own wrapped around your clit, sucking it hard. The cold press of his piercing against your sensitive skin sent a delicious shiver through you.

“Jungkook,” you whimpered, voice trembling. “So good, I–”

Jungkook swirled his tongue, letting you feel the precision of his attention. One of your hands tangled in his dark hair, tugging hard and making him groan, vibrating against your clit. The sensation was so overwhelming that for a moment, your breath escaped you, mind consumed entirely by the pleasure he gave you.

“You taste so sweet,” he declared against your core, his voice rough. “I could have this everyday for breakfast.”

As his finger slowly slid back into your dripping heat, his lips and tongue worked together, lapping at your clit to coax your body into pure relaxation. The pleasure was intoxicating, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking your hips against his face and the rhythm of his finger going in and out of you.

When his middle finger joined in, your mind dissolved into pure bliss. Jungkook’s tongue traced a sinful path again, licking you up and down, savoring every drop of your slick. He sucked greedily at your folds before returning to your bundle of nerves, flicking it just enough to make your walls clenched tightly around his fingers, drawing him deeper, your body completely at his mercy.

“Gonna cum, baby. Fuck!"

“Let go for me, doll,” he urged, his voice low and commanding.

The pressure built steadily, your body trembling as the coil in your stomach tightened, ready to snap. Jungkook seemed to sense it, his pace quickening as he focused on the spot that made you cry out, your body writhing beneath him.

His hands slid up to hold your hips in place as your body shook above him, and with one last flick of his tongue, your release finally hit, crashing over you like a wave, consuming every part of you in its intensity.

Your cries echoed through the kitchen as your body shook uncontrollably, every nerve ending alight with sensation. He held you through it, his hands firm and reassuring as he lapped up every bit of your pleasure, savoring you like you were his favorite meal.

When you finally came down from the high, he pulled back, his lips glistening and his eyes dark with satisfaction. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your inner thigh. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

Jungkook began to trail soft kisses up your belly, his lips brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your breath hitch slightly again. Your hands instinctively found their way back to his hair, your fingers threading through the dark strands, combing them carefully as his mouth continued its slow way up.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice gravelly with affection. “I love having you’re here.”

His lips were warm and soft against your skin, lingering at the curve of your waist, breath hot and comforting against your ribs as he nuzzled closer.

“I love being here,” you replied, melting into him once more.

You felt Jungkkok smiling against your skin, his hands slid up your sides, his touch firm but reverent, like he was memorizing every inch of you.

“I love mornings like this and you're so good with Bam. Having you here… it feels right,” His voice held a quiet sincerity, his gaze warm as he looked up at you. “Like this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, matching his tender expression. “I know what you mean. Being here feels like being home.”

You closed your eyes, fingers tightened in his hair as he kissed higher, his lips brushing just beneath your collarbone. Junkook smiled again, his hands shifting to cup your cheeks as he leaned in to capture your swollen lips again. The kiss was slow, deep, and filled with a yearning that made your heart ache.

As he pulled back, his thumb traced your jawline, his gaze searching yours. “Let’s make this our thing, every day.”

“What do you mean?”

“Move in with me.”

“Alright everyone, let’s take fifteen!”

Those were the exact words Mingyu needed to hear from Hoshi right now, causing everyone else in the room to let out groans of relief as they immediately dropped to the floor.

Mingyu himself let out a long exhale, running a hand through his damp hair, waking to a corner of the practice room and watching as the mirrors lining the wall reflected his restless expression, sweat glistening on his forehead and neck.

He grabbed a towel and dabbed it against his face, trying to catch his breath as he sat down on the wooden floor, away from the rest of the members. As usual, the room buzzed with casual chatter and the sound of sneakers scuffing against the floor as the others stretched or joked around.

Mingyu, on the other hand, remained silent, leaning against the wall with his gaze fixed on his hands, completely locked in thought. His chest heaved with fatigue, his shoulders sagging slightly.

It wasn’t just the practice that had drained him. No. The physical exhaustion was manageable, something he’d long grown accustomed to.

The problem was that no matter how much he tried to focus on the rehearsals, on the music, the choreography, the shouts of encouragement from his members, in the fact that the first show of the tour was getting closer and closer, his mind kept drifting back to you—to the silence that has been haunting him since that night a week ago.

It was exhausting.

All Mingyu wanted was to talk to you, to make sense of everything that happened since the day you parted ways at Kansai International Airport to the moment you saw each other again in that restaurant. He wanted to understand how you were suddenly back in Korea now and, most important, of all the people in the world, how you ended up becoming Jungkook’s girlfriend.

What kind of sick twisted joke was the universe trying to play on him?

He simply couldn't understand.

Additionally, you had said to him that you would think about talking, but a week had gone by, and nothing.

Seven long, torturous days, and still, his phone remained silent. Every time it buzzed with an unknown number, his heart would lurch, hoping it was you, but it never was. He didn’t even know why he expected you to try to contact him, or how that could possibly happen, since you didn’t exchange numbers.

Yet, despite everything, he still held onto the hope that you would.

So far, all he’d gotten from you was silence and it was killing him, making him absolutely restless. He hated himself for it, hated how he’d become the guy waiting around for a message that would probably never come. It was pathetic, really.

He rubbed a hand over his face, frustration gnawing at him. Part of Mingyu wanted to reach out to you first, to demand an answer, even though he wondered how he could even do that.

He didn't even know if you had told Jungkook yet. Were you planning to tell him? If you already had, how did he react? Was he angry with Mingyu now? Was he angry with you? What did it mean if you hadn’t said anything? Should he have been the one to say something to his friend?

He had so many questions swimming around in his brain and he just wanted to find answers to them.

The other part of him, however, was too afraid of what he might hear.

What if your silence was already the answer?

Mingyu rested his arms on his knees and lowered his head, letting out a bitter, quiet laugh, shaking his head as if he could somehow remove the thoughts from his mind.

Why do I even care? he thought to himself, even though he already knew the answer very well.

Goddammit.

He hated how much power you still held over him, how even now, after all this time, you had the same effect on him as you did four years ago. How he found himself stuck, unable to move past the hope that you’d reach out, that you’d say something—anything—that would prove he hadn’t been a complete fool for waiting for you to show up again all these years.

“Alright, man,” Minghao’s voice cut through his thoughts as the red haired man settled down next to him. “Spill it. What’s up with you today?”

After days of watching Mingyu zone out during practice, Minghao couldn’t hold back any longer. He’d noticed his friend's unusual restlessness during this week’s rehearsals—his gaze darting around the room, his mind clearly elsewhere. Mistake after mistake on his moves, even on the simplest parts of the choreographies, and Hoshi had been scolding him every five minutes to get things right.

It wasn’t like Mingyu to be so distracted; he usually approached every song with relentless focus, always going the extra mile to ensure every move was perfect, especially with a tour just around the corner. So, of course, something was wrong with him; Minghao just couldn’t figure out what it was.

He mimicked Mingyu’s kicked out puppy posture, looking at him with his eyebrows arched.

Mingyu glanced over, his expression caught between irritation and reluctance, but the look quickly softened when he noticed who was sitting next to him.

“What do you mean?” he asked, though his tone was more deflective than curious.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Minghao replied, nudging his friend’s shoulder with his own. “You’ve been off all week. Something’s definitely on your mind. So, what’s going on?”

Mingyu blinked, finally realizing he hadn’t masked his mood as well as he’d thought. He straightened, a faint forced smile appearing on his face as he shrugged it off. "Nothing,” he muttered, but even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. Minghao clearly wasn't buying it either.

"You’ve got that look on your face," Minghao said, waving his hand in front of Mingyu's face. "The one you get when you’re carrying something heavy. Come on, talk to me."

Mingyu let out another sigh, running a hand through his hair and wiping his face with the towel again, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Just a lot on my mind. You know how it is.”

Minghao nodded slowly, his head tilting as he watched his friend carefully. “Yeah, I do. But usually, you’re one of the members keeping the rest of us calm. What got you rattled?”

Looking away and glancing over at his members, laughing and messing around the room, Mingyu hesitated. He wanted to brush it off, to tell Minghao it was just the anxiety pre-tour, or that he was tired. But he knew Minghao better than that. His friend had an irritatingly sharp sense for when things weren't right, and Mingyu didn’t have the energy to lie anymore.

Except that he couldn't tell the truth either.

So instead, he chose to be evasive.

“Just… life stuff,” Mingyu said finally, trying to keep his tone light, though even he knew it sounded forced.

“Family stuff?” Minghao pressed. He shook his head no. “Did you fight with one of the members?”

“No.”

“Girl problems?”

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he let out a slow breath, tossing the towel onto the ground and rubbing the back of his head—why did he suddenly sound like a fifteen-year-old?

“Something like that.”

Minghao’s eyes narrowed the way they always did when he was trying to see straight through Mingyu’s defenses. He tilted his head again, studying him for a small second, then gave a small, knowing smile.

"Oh?" he faked gasped, leaning back on his hands. "You? Having girl problems?"

Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, Mingyu groaned. “Can we not call it that?” he muttered, but even he couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice.

Minghao just laughed softly. “Alright, alright. Let’s call it... romantic confusion. Better?”

Mingyu let out a reluctant chuckle, dropping his hands to his knees.

Ironically, it was actually the perfect way to describe his current situation.

“You make it sound like I’m a teenager, but sure, whatever.” He paused, taking a deep breath and hesitating again for just a moment before gathering courage to ask, “Have you ever had someone just… show up again in your life, out of nowhere?”

“Someone important, I’m assuming?” Minghao asked back thoughtfully, a hint of intrigue in his face.

Mingyu nodded but offered nothing more.

Then Minghao decided to venture, an amused gleam in his eyes now. “So… I’m assuming that ‘something like that’ has something to do with a girl from your past that is now back.”

Mingyu stilled, jaw clenched ever so slightly, considering whether he should even respond to it. But he was the one who had allowed the conversation to go this way in the first place, he might as well respond to Minghao's question.

He shrugged, watching his reflection in the mirror as if might offer him a better answer. “Maybe,” he finally admitted. “It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” Minghao chuckled slightly. “But to answer your question: no, it’s never happened to me.”

There was a pause as they both watched as Seokmin dragged Chan across the room by his legs, the rest of the members laughing to a joke they’re both unaware of. The silence stretched between them until Minghao shifted as if preparing to ask a question he’d been holding back, his curiosity far from satisfied.

Mingyu could feel the shift in Minghao’s posture, the way his friend leaned just a little closer, eyes flickering with that signature curiosity that always meant he was about to dig deeper. The background chaos of the practice room continued—Chan was now flailing dramatically while Dokyeom cackled, and the other members egged them on—but to his surprise, it all felt distant.

“Can I ask you something?” Minghao finally questioned, his tone soft but very probing. “Not related to this.

Mingyu met his gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he sensed something coming. “Go ahead.”

Minghao seemed to hesitate for just a second, his voice dropping a notch. “What really happened to that girl from Osaka? I know you said she was unattainable once, but four years it’s a long time, man.”

Mingyu exhaled, trying to mask his shocked expression, wondering why Minghao was bringing that up now—four whole years later. Though he suspected it was no one’s fault but his own. He hated how he was an open book with his feelings, and hated how easily Minghao could read him. He’d spent years avoiding this question, brushing it off whenever his friends brought it up. But now, with everything coming back so suddenly, it was getting harder to ignore.

He ran a hand through his hair again, his fingers tugging at the roots as if that might somehow pull the words out of him. “Well, for starters, she’s no longer unattainable.”

Minghao’s eyebrow arched in surprise. “Why do I sense a but coming?”

Mingyu let out a humorless laugh. “But she’s now completely off-limits.”

He hadn’t realized how much he’d been carrying until the words left his mouth, how the weight of it all felt like was pressing his chest.

Of all things, he couldn’t help but feel selfish for barely acknowledging, even after these seven days, the full weight of this fact: you were now off-limits because you were with someone he cared deeply about—someone he would never risk hurting.

He watched as Minghao studied his face for a moment, the significance of the confession settling between them. The noise of the practice room seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the tension of their conversation hanging in the air.

“What do you mean, ‘off-limits’?” Minghao asked quietly, his eyes never leaving Mingyu’s. There was a softness there, an understanding. “I thought she had disappeared.”

“She did,” Mingyu's voice was barely a whisper when he answered. “Didn’t think I’d see her again.”

Mighao watched him with a mixture of surprise and sympathy. “But now she’s back?”

Mingyu nodded, his jaw clenched.

“It’s her, isn’t it? The someone importante who’s back in your life?” When Mingyu didn’t say anything, Minghao pressed on. “What’s stopping you now?”

Mingyu swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor. “She’s... she’s with someone else now. Someone who... well, let’s just say it’s not exactly someone I can compete with.”

Minghao stayed serious for a few seconds, staring at Mingyu with a contemplative expression. Then, suddenly, he burst out laughing, as if Mingyu had just told the funniest joke in the world.

“You’re bullshiting me. If anything, this someone else is the one he can’t compete with you.”

“It’s not just about competing with someone else,” Mingyu said, his voice tinged with frustration and defeat. “It’s about competing with someone I care about deeply. Someone I would never hurt. Ever.”

Someone he couldn’t hate even if he wanted to, he taught.

Minghao’s eyes widened slightly as he leaned back, his lips quirking up into a faint smile, though there was no humor in it.

“Ah,” he said simply, the weight of Mingyu’s words sinking in.

Mingyu had spent hours, days, months, and years imagining what it might be like to see you again—to touch you, hold you, kiss you, and finally ask the question that had haunted him since the day you vanished from his life. Every single one of these scenarios painted in his mind with a romanticized curiosity.

And yet, no amount of daydreaming could have prepared him for the cold, harsh nightmare of reality. When the moment finally came, it felt like he was the butt of the world’s cruelest joke. Everything he’d built up in his mind crumbled in an instant, the weight of shattered expectations burying him beneath the wreckage.

Jungkook was one of his closest friends—hell, one of his best. Their bond had been forged through years of trust and loyalty, long before the day he saw you. To Mingyu, Jungkook was more than a friend; he was practically family.

But he still couldn’t help but think that it was unfair; he had seen you first.

“Well,” Minghao’s voice broke his thoughts again. “I just don’t think you can sit there and pretend you haven’t spent the last four years waiting to see her again.”

Mingyu took a deep breath, turning his gaze away to watch the other members across the room as they bantered and laughed, feeling as though he’d just been punched in the stomach. Minghao’s words carried an honesty he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

The worst part was that there was no way you didn’t hear his friends laughing and joking at how he had spent the last four years waiting for you to come back.

And even then, a week has gone by with you in complete silence.

It was like he had been transported back to the moment he realized that no matter how much effort he put in, finding you wouldn’t be as easy as he had hoped.

He exhaled through his nose, his voice low and bitter when he finally spoke. “What good would that do, Myungho?” he muttered, his eyes still fixed on the scene in front of him but not really seeing it. “Waiting doesn’t mean anything if the outcome’s already decided.”

“Maybe not. But waiting says a lot about how much she matters to you.”

Mingyu let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head.

“And what does that matter now? She’s with someone else. End of story.” His voice cracked just slightly on the word someone, and he cursed himself for it.

Minghao’s expression softened, but there was still a sharp edge to his words. “If it were really the end of the story, you wouldn’t still be sitting here, torturing yourself over it.”

It was because, for him, it wasn’t. Not really.

Since that night in the restaurant, memories kept flooding back—flashes of laughter, stolen glances across the hotel bar, long and late night conversations in the quiet of the hotel room. He’d spent three days with you, but those moments had burned deeper than some entire relationships he had before. And then… nothing. You were gone, and he’d convinced himself he could just move on.

His silence spoke volumes to Minghao.

“So… answer my first question. What happened between you two, really? Why’d it end in the first place?”

“That's the worst part; I don’t even know, man," he started, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "She told me she was moving here and we decided we would give it a try once she was settled. But on the last day, she disappeared."

Minghao nodded slowly, waiting for more, his silence encouraging without being pushy.

Mingyu continued, his voice growing softer. “After looking for her everywhere I could, I thought... if I let her go, it’d be easier. For both of us. I mean… maybe she disappeared by her own choice, you know? I even asked Daeho hyung for help to find her at the time, isn't that ridiculous?”

He could still remember how stupid he felt when he asked their former manager for help. He felt even more embarrassed when he was scolded for focusing on things he shouldn’t have—distractions, as Daeho liked to call them—rather than focusing solely on Seventeen’s career.

Stopping for a second and closing his eyes, Mingyu let out a shaky breath, as if releasing the weight of the memory.

“But as you know, I couldn’t let it go, no matter how much I told myself to,” he laughed, but it came out hollow. “Every time I thought I was moving on, something would remind me of her. It’s pathetic, really.”

Minghao frowned, his gaze steady but kind. “It’s not pathetic, man.” He leaned forward slightly, his tone serious but gentle. “It looks like you never got any closure.”

“I didn’t. And now that she’s back…” He paused, his jaw clenching as he fought to steady his emotions. “It’s like everything I tried to bury is crashing down on me all at once.” Mingyu shook his head, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration. “And the worst part? I can’t even hate her for leaving. Not when I don’t know the whole story.”

“Maybe that’s what you need, then…” Minghao said, his expression thoughtful. “ to find closure.”

Mingyu looked at him, his shoulders tense, the vulnerability in his eyes raw and unguarded. “And what if the closure doesn’t change anything? What if it just... makes it worse?”

“Then at least you’ll know. At least you’ll have an answer. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll finally be able to move forward.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” But even as he said it, the uncertainty lingered, heavy and unresolved.

His gaze swept across the room, taking in the other members, until it landed on someone he had almost overlooked: Vernon, sitting in a corner, fidgeting and lost in his own thoughts.

Mingyu already knew what was on his mind; it had been the topic of discussions all week—the possibility that his girlfriend, the latest, and now former, Seventeen main stylist, might be fired for having a personal relationship with someone she worked for.

They had been accidentally discovered by the company’s fashion department supervisor last week. Since then, the group’s stylist position had remained vacant, with only a few days left before their tour began. Vernon was just as restless as Mingyu, haunted by guilt over what had happened while the company discussed under the covers his girlfriend’s future.

Mingyu wanted to help him, but his own muddled thoughts left him incapable of offering any support.

“Look, Gyu, I know it’s a tough situation,” Minghao said gently. “But be honest with yourself. You don’t have to rush into anything, but if she really matters to you, don’t let fear, or anything else, stop you.”

For a moment, Mingyu just stared at Minghao, his friend's words hanging in the air between them. He hated how Minghao always had a way of cutting through the noise and getting straight to the heart of things.

"You don’t have to figure it out all at once, man. But don’t lie to yourself about how you feel. She’s already here, right? That’s gotta mean something.”

With that, Minghao stood up and made his way across the room, heading toward Vernon, leaving Mingyu to process alone the weight of his words in the quiet that followed.

You smoothed the fabric of your blouse again, trying to calm your nerves as you stood in the sleek conference room. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking view of the city, but it did little to settle your anxiety. The weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air, and the buzz of your thoughts traveling back to the events of this morning only grew louder with every passing second.

You had been waiting for a few minutes, and the girl sitting at the table outside the room had already come in three times to offer you coffee. Finally, you politely accepted, hoping it would stop her from coming in and looking at you nervously.

Not that you wanted to be alone. The last thing you needed right now was to be alone with your thoughts, replaying Jungkook’s gaze when you left the kitchen this morning. But at the same time, if she wasn’t planning to start a conversation that could distract you, you didn’t want to be faced with that glazed look that would only make you anxious.

When the door clicked open again, a tall, sharp-suited woman stepped in this time, clipboard in hand. She offered you a polite smile and you immediately stood up, offering a slight bow to the woman as you returned her warm smile.

“Thank you so much for joining us on such short notice, Miss Kang,” she said as she approached you, extending her hand. “I’m Kim Injae, the head of the department.”

You shook her hand, her grip firm but not overpowering, the kind that transmitted confidence without arrogance. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kim. Thank you for having me.”

“Oh, honey, please, drop the formalities and call me Injae,” she said warmly as the two of you took your seats acroos from each other by the glass-top table. Her tone softened slightly, though her professional edge remained. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we called you here today.”

You offered another smile, folding your hands in your lap.

“The thought did cross my mind, yes,” you admitted, keeping your tone light despite the undercurrent of curiosity—and, admittedly, nervousness—that you felt.

Injae leaned forward slightly, her well-manicured hands resting elegantly on the table, as she opened the folder she brought with her. If there was one way to describe her, it would be like staring at a brunette, Korean version of Donatella Versace—elegant, sharp, and undeniably commanding.

“Well, we’ve been following your work for some time, Y/N. When Hyejin brought you in last year to work with the Bangtan Boys, we were really impressed with you,” she paused, her sharp gaze meeting yours. “We would have liked to keep you with them as their lead stylist, but given the personal circumstances between you and one of their members, we couldn’t.

Your stomach dropped slightly at her words, though you kept your expression neutral. Have you been called here to respond to a disciplinary lawsuit?

It couldn't be. Two months ago, when you deliberately decided to quit your job here so you could stay with Jungkook without having to hide your relationship, it was still a secret. The two of you only came clean when you were no longer associated with the company or BTS in an employment capacity.

And luckily for you, it was right at the time when Elle Magazine Korea offered you the position as their editorial stylist, so everything ended up working out perfectly.

Deep down, you knew that you loved working as a tour stylist and designer more than anything else, second only to your dream of designing your own clothing brand. Which is why the decision wasn’t as easy as you made it seem at the time.

“I understand,” you replied carefully, maintaining your professionalism. “It was an incredible experience, and I’m grateful for the opportunity I had.”

Injae nodded, her expression unreadable as she leafed through the pages carefully. “It’s unfortunate when personal and professional lines blur,” Then she stopped for a second, looking back at you with a smile. “But the heart wants what it wants, right?”

Her words lingered in the air, a delicate balance between acknowledgment and understanding. You felt your cheeks warm slightly but maintained your composure, offering her a polite smile in return.

"I guess so," you admitted cautiously, unsure of how much to reveal.

“That being said, I do recognize talent when I see it,” Injae said, keeping her tone steady. “and you, Y/N, are undeniably talented. Which is why we’re sitting here today.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you processed Injae's words, feeling yourself relax in the chair now that you knew you weren't being prosecuted or punished. She had a way of being direct yet warm, and her casual remark made your stomach flutter with hope.

Still, you held your composure, giving her just an appreciative smile. “I’m honored to hear that, honestly.”

“You study at Central Saint Martins, right?” she asked, fixing her glasses on the tip of the nose. You simply nodded and she continued. “That’s amazing. And not only that, I’ve gone through your resume before and I must say, your experience is impressive.”

Injae’s words washed over you, her tone carrying a mixture of admiration and curiosity that made you sit a little straighter, your head held high with humble pride. You knew exactly what your accomplishments in your chosen profession were, and no one was prouder of them than you. Still, it wasn’t every day someone showered you with compliments like this, listing them off with such genuine admiration.

So you managed another polite smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you nodded once again and she carried on, leaned forward and resting her elbows on the table.

“It’s amazing that at such a young age, you already managed to work with multiple international artists and you were even responsible for making the big brand ambassadors.”

Her words made another flush of pride rise in your chest, though you maintained your professional demeanor. “Thank you so much, Injae. I’ve been fortunate to work with some incredible teams and artists.”

“Fortunate, yes,” she agreed, “but talent and hard work don’t go unnoticed, and yours is evident.”

Injae’s sharp gaze softened just slightly, and she tapped a perfectly manicured finger on the glass table.

You inclined your head slightly in gratitude. “I’ve always believed in pushing boundaries and challenging myself. Fashion is constantly evolving, and I love being part of that evolution, creating pieces that not only reflect it but provide it to others.”

“Precisely,” Injae said, her approval evident. ”It’s why I believe you’re the perfect fit for the spot that recently appeared in our department.”

“I’m honored that you think so,” you said earnestly.

Her lips curved into a small smile, and she leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “For obvious reasons, you can't work with BTS. Which I assume you already know.”

“Yes,” you answered, almost whispering, remembering yourself to take a deep breath each time you were reminded of the consequences of your choices and the reasons you had made them in the first place.

Injae’s smile widened just a fraction, the glint of intrigue in her eyes. “But, that doesn't mean you can't work with any other group in the company.”

Your heart skipped a beat for a second, anticipation swirling inside you as her words hung in the air like a hopeful promise. You straightened in your seat once again, your fingers lightly grazing the edge of the polished table to hold yourself together from bursting with excitement over something she hadn’t even said yet.

“One of our groups recently lost their lead stylist,” she began, her tone now practical. “And we need someone with experience, creativity, and adaptability. Someone who can handle the intensity of a global tour while elevating their image and branding. In short, we want you to fill the spot.”

Your heart raced against your ribcage as her words echoed in your mind, leaving no room for doubts. The implications were clear: this could be your chance to step back into a role you’d thought you’d left behind—a role that allowed you to do what you loved most. This wasn’t just a job, it was a massive opportunity.

“Oh, wow,” you said, overwhelmed, carefully trying to keep your tone steady and not squeaky. “It means a lot to me, being recognized like this.”

Injae smiled warmly, her sharpness softening just a fraction. “You’ll be the lead stylist, which means that you’ll also be the one setting the tone, overseeing an entire team of stylists, designing the group tour outfits and getting brands to collaborate with the artists,” she explained. “It’s a leadership role, and it’ll test your ability to balance artistry with management.”

You nodded again, the gravity of her words settled over you, the enormity of this opportunity both thrilling and daunting. This was more than anything you had ever done or dreamed before.

“Their tour starts in two weeks,” she said, continuing her explanation, looking down at the pages in front of her again. “Don’t worry, though, most of the pieces are already finished, and just some of them still need to be finalized, adjusted, and selected. After that, they’ll have a month off, and you’ll have plenty of time and resources to make any changes or create whatever you feel is necessary.”

Your mind was already spinning with possibilities. Two weeks to finalize styling for a tour was tight, but it wasn’t unfamiliar territory. “It is a tight schedule. But I’ve worked under similar constraints before. I’ll make it work.”

“I had no doubt you would,” Injae replied with confidence. She closed the folder in front of her with a decisive snap, then leaned forward slightly. “That’s why you’re here. But that's not all. I’ll have my assistant email every detail and everything that will fall under your responsibility as the lead stylist. As well as the contract and an overview of the team and current wardrobe inventory.”

You nodded, your mind already spinning with anticipation and plans. “Thank you. I’ll review everything as soon as it comes through.”

She paused for a moment before continuing, her tone softening. “Y/N, I know stepping back into this world might feel like stepping back into the past actions, but I trust that you’ll use all of your experience, both personal and professional, to excel here.”

You couldn’t ignore the double meaning in her words. Though your chest tightened slightly at the thought of past entanglements, you focused on the opportunity ahead.

Besides, what were the chances of finding yourself in a situation like the one before? You were happy with Jungkook and weren’t looking for a boyfriend or anything else in that area.

As you’d said before: he was the only exception.

“Of course,” you said sincerely. “I won’t let you down.”

“Good,” Injae said simply, her tone cool and authoritative. “Because this group isn’t just any group, they’re at the peak of their careers, and the eyes of the country are on them. Your work will define part of their image, and in turn, their legacy.”

“I understand,” you replied, meeting her gaze directly. “May I ask what group we are talking about?

A hint of amusement flickering in her sharp gaze, realizing that she had forgotten the most important part. “Oh, did I not mention?” she tilted her head slightly. “Are you familiar with Seventeen?”

If you liked this feel free to let me know with a like, reblog, comment, whatever you prefer! ❤️

★ TAGLIST

#jungkook x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu fanfic #jungkook fanfic #seventeen fic #bts fanfic #97 line

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wildemaven · 9 months ago

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look at us | joel miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 2748 warnings: 18+ blog; Smut, maybe even smut with no real plot, Nipple play, orgasm through nipple stimulation, praise, multiple orgasms, using arousal as lube, mutual masterbastion (f & m), cum eating/sharing, mirror watching, my horrible attempt at keeping a conversation flowing during sexy time, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself, fluff, established relationship, mentioned that reader is wearing a dress & bra but has zero descriptive features, can be read as no outbreak or prior to outbreak Joel, there’s no Sarah in this universe notes: this is a reimagined version of an older fic i posted and didn’t really like for some reason. Switched the characters and reworked it a bit. Smut is so hard to write for me, I just question the whole thing in its entirety and never want to do it again. But I love this storyline so much more now as Joel that I honestly don’t even care if the smut is wonky— I just want joel now. This writer supports Palestine and does not share or support the views of tlou creator.

It’s a heady sensation.

Visceral. Demanding. Gratifying.

His touch. A grounding force that burns through you, igniting every nerve ending in its wake.

Plaint and warm, your body blooms with a carnal appetency.

He’s emboldened by every sound he plucks from you. The softest whimpers that fall from your lips, kiss every single inch of his dewy skin. He’s forever addicted to your willingness to take what he has to give you— always wanting more.

Generous. Attentive. Steadfast.

Earnestness bleeds into a lustrous selfishness. The anticipation palpable, watching as you come apart in his arms, your pleasure is his forevermore.

It’s intuitive, the way he’s drawn to you. Most mornings, taking advantage of what little time he has with you, before work is pulling you both in different directions. Then you’re reunited for the evening and he’s making up for lost time, devouring and satisfying, well into the next day.

An endless cycle of being connected and reconnecting.

When weekends come around, he’s selfish. Overindulging beyond his means. Knowing he has ample time to relish in the closeness. Met with endless opportunities to have you near in any capacity as the hours of the day tick on, time he doesn’t take for granted.

Today is no different. From the moment the truck backs out of the driveway, beginning the several mile drive across town in the direction of Tommy’s home, he’s reaching for your hand.

Palm to palm, fingers perfectly intertwined as your hands stay connected over the center console of his pickup. The afternoon sun streaming through the window, adding to the already budding warmth that’s building between you. The conversation is light. Joel listening intently as you share details from your week, his thumb working over your knuckles as you move through the highlights of your story.

The remainder of the drive has a comfortable lull as the miles roll by. Music streaming through the cab, the lyrics provoking a wave of affection. Joel’s lips find the top of your hand periodically, his gaze never breaking from the road ahead. Your heart racing instantly at his instinctual gesture.

The gathering of friends— barbecuing, music and laughter, doesn't deter him from keeping you within arms reach.

Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back, fingers lightly dragging back and forth over your tingling spine, as you both exchange hello’s and hugs to the group friends in attendance scattered around the backyard

While Tommy is busy tending to the food on the barbecue, Joel and you are caught up listening to Paul, Tommy’s old army buddy and the newest hire at Joel’s construction company, share stories from his and Tommy’s time together in the military. Both of you enthralled by the recounts of close calls and embarrassing moments for the younger Miller brother, only to be interrupted by a flustered Tommy calling for Paul to grab plates and napkins from inside.

The minute you’re alone his hand is wandering south, grabbing at the meat of your ass and pulling you flush against him. It’s the first moment you’ve been alone since arriving and he’ll be damned if he’s not going to take advantage of it.

You smile into his kiss, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt as he leans in close, his hushed words fanning across your ear.

“You look so damn pretty in that dress. Can’t wait to get my hands on you later.” The husk in his voice nearly makes you melt further into him, not even surprised by the cool dampness coating the silk panties you chose today, just for him.

“Hmmm— your hands haven’t left me since we got here.” You muse.

“I like havin’ you close.”

“You’ve made that quite obvious, Miller.” You joke, before he’s silencing you with another less than chaste kiss.

Dinner is served as the sun begins its descent. The air dropping a few degrees cooler, has goosebumps pricking at your skin. But it’s nothing compared to the shiver Joel is causing you, his hand nestled between your legs under the table.

You find it hard to focus between all the lively conversations being volleyed across the table, dishes being passed around and laughter cutting through friendly onslaughts of fuck you’s.

Joel mindlessly massaging at your thigh as he talks. Filling everyone in on the projects he’s started around the house, while your brain is muddled with thoughts of Joel’s hands and only Joel’s hands.

You can’t be positive it’s a deliberate move— or is it? You’ve been with him long enough to know what a calculated man Joel is.

He leans forward to reach for the ketchup bottle, his other hand shifting further up your thighs, his demeanor is cool and even as his fingers brush over your clothed mound. His fingers slowly gliding over the very drenched fabric. You swallow a thick gasp as your hips cant forward on instinct, chasing his retreating hand, your cunt aching and desperate for more of his teasing.

The wink he shoots you as he settles back in his chair is all the evidence you need to know his plan worked.

“Look like you saw an infected zombie or somethin’. Everything okay, Baby?” You want to kiss the devilish smirk right off of his handsome face.

“Y-yeah.” Horny and desperate for you, but fine.

“Y’sure about that? Those perked nipples of yours are tellin’ a different story, Sweetheart.” He quietly calls you out. You glance down to see the thin fabric of your summer dress and lace bra are no match to conceal the hardened peaks— your body so easily betraying you is nothing new.

“We should head out soon.” You say softly, Joel nods immediately, the silent agreement has you eager for what’s in store when you arrive home.

The ongoing conversation among the others is now muted background noise as you stare into his needy eyes, your hand cupping the side of his face as your thumb traces over his plush lower lip.

“We’re headin’ out. Thanks for havin’ us, Tommy. Hope to see y’all again sometime soon. ‘Night.” Joel rushes through announcing your departure, pulling you from your seat, his body crowding behind you as he ushers you towards his truck.

“You’re not even gonna stay and help clean up?” Tommy pouts from his chair.

“You’re a big boy Tommy, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Joel yells over his shoulder with a two finger wave as the gate clicks shut, home and you are the only thing cares about for the remainder of the evening.

“Fuuuuuuuck— Joel!” Your mind slowly seeping into a deep pleasured state.

There’s little recollection of leaving Tommy’s house and the drive home, other than Joel’s unrelenting need to have you close at all times— no complaints from you whatsoever.

Joel’s firm grip on your hand when he all but drags you to the bedroom of your shared home, clothes stripped at the foot of your bed in a hasty fashion.

The accumulation of Joel’s fiery touches throughout the day were merely effortless foreplay, all considered and aiding in his profound efforts that have been unfolding since arriving home.

“You look so fuckin’ good. Look at us, Baby.” The low gravel of his voice is overwhelming, but laced with pure authenticity. You lift your head just enough as your eyes slowly flutter open, trying to catch a glimpse of what he sees in the full length mirror positioned on the wall across from where you both are in bed— a mere coincidence that it was placed in there when you moved in.

“‘M l-looking, J-joel.”

It’s exquisitely striking how your cunt flutters madly against the cool air of the bedroom. The sight alone is better than any pornography you’ve consumed together.

Joel sitting up against the headboard holding your body close to his. Your back firm and tacky against his chest, breathing in rhythmic unity.

His feet hooked around your ankles, keeping your legs spread out as he hones in on the two luring forms glaring back in the mirror, a view that will forever edge out his own fantasies of you.

His large hands hold the weight of your breasts with pleasing dexterity, whispering the most beautiful obscene things into your ear.

I love your body. I love the way you moan. Missed your pussy all day. God, you’re always on my mind. Fuck, you’re makin’ me so hard. Louder. Fuck. Look at me.

Your gaze finally catches Joel’s in the reflection. It’s direct and overwhelming, his warm brown eyes flickering with a bold desire igniting a ripple of goosebumps over your body.

You’re both possessed by the new wave of arousal, glistening in the afternoon light, as it ardently drips from your pussy down to the bed sheets. Desperately craving to be devastated by this handsome man.

Joel’s thumbs swipe over your hard sensitive nipples, pulling a breathy gasp from your lips. Your head falling back into his shoulder as you let the sensation fully consume you.

“You like that don’t you?” You can only manage to hum in response, which encourages him to continue his work over the pebbled skin.

“Y-yes. You know how much I d-do.”

Joel knows this. Well enough too. It’s a normal occurrence that you find yourself in this identic state. Your body buzzing and exhausted, molded against Joel’s. His cock weeping and begging for relief, snuggly nestled between your roaring bodies. His skilled hands reducing you to putty.

Rolling. Pinching. Pulling. Flicking.

Each thorough caress sends an intense and deep feeling of delirium surging through you. Building and building the delicate structure for an elaborate release.

“So perfect all laid out for me. You gonna come for me?. I think you’re almost there, Baby. Just need a little more, huh?”

“Joel— I-I don’t think I can this time. N-need— oh fuck Joel! I need a little m-more.”

You’re cut off when you feel Joel’s fingers faintly slide over your throbbing clit and bypassing it completely. He swipes through your wet folds. You think he might finally give in. Plunge one, maybe two of his thick fingers into your aching heat, caress your velvet walls until you’re coming undone. Your body jolts as he gathers your arousal on his fingers, then abandons the ache and returns to his previous ministrations.

His arousal slick digits glide over each of your perked nipples. The wet eager strokes have your back arching as you moan into the room, your body tense and vibrating.

“Joel— yes! That feels so good! fuckfuckfuck! I— I’m so close Joel! D-don’t stop!” You let out a sharp moan.

“I ain’t stoppin’, Sweetheart. So fuckin’ beautiful. Can’t wait to see you come, Baby— just let go.” His hushed words paired with the way he rolls your stiff nubs between his fingers is just the push you needed, your climax vibrant and beautiful as it erupts, spreading through you faster than you can announce its existence.

Joel watches you fall apart in the mirror. Your breathless state has his hips grinding against your lower back as he continues to clutch your breasts. The glimmering beads of sweat rolling down your throat and chest, joining the layer pooling between your bodies.

It’s the view of your cunt that nearly takes him out, empty and pulsating, he’s never been so proud of a sight. He adds the mental snapshot to his backlog of imagery he’ll store of you until the end of his days.

“God, Joel. That— that was amazing!.” You say, peeling your satiated body from his.

Turning to face him, you sit in the space between where his legs are sprawled open, your hands massaging at his calves. You take in how enticing he looks, laid back on the stack of pillows, a slack grin on his handsome face as he slowly pumps his hardened cock.

You’re completely entranced by the sight, all thick and tempting. Biting at your lip teasingly, a hand all but subtly slips between your legs and your fingers begin delicately tracing circles over your clit.

Husked gasps falling from Joel’s parted lips as he alternates his movements. Long languid strokes over the length of his shaft then pausing briefly, his grip stilled and tight around the base as the reddened tip slowly leaks.

You gasp as the warmth of your sex engulfs your fingers triggering another gush of arousal to trickle down your thighs. Your other hand still connected to Joel’s leg, grounding your floating form to him.

Joel's eyes scan you, absorbing your blissed-out state, his hand matching your own steady movements, rhythmically moving over himself, his breaths now emerging as heavy pants.

Your fingers enthusiastically moving in and out with ease as your hips writhe keenly in search of the perfect position. The remnants of your previous orgasm are still lingering, beautifully aiding in the build up of the next. Your brows pinched in pleasure.

The room is dense with sexual humidity. Doused in a mixture of the ambered vanilla candle you burn frequently and a sweet ambrosial musk.

“Fuck— how’d I get so fuckin’ lucky with a woman like you? fuck!.” His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip, neck taut and nose flared as he tries to breathe through how good he’s making himself feel. “Why don’t you— shit —c’mere.”

“Mmm-ah! T-tempting, Baby. ohgod! Think I’ll stay put. I’m actually enjoying the view quite nicely from here. You look so good like this, Joel.” Seeing him accept your praise is a vision you’ll never get tired of, allowing himself to give in and take what he needs.

Your fingers graze over that delicious little spot with success, a cresting wave set in motion, the sensation causing your walls to convulse. A moan escapes your lips, paralleling with Joel’s own sounds. Your head involuntarily tilts back, as you ride out the euphoric moment.

“Shit! Sweetheart, I’m— I’m gonna— Hnng!Fuuuck!”

Joel’s fist erratically pumps over his length, his eyes locked on your naked form, ragged breaths and eager moans. Your eyes struggle to stay focused through the hazy chaos, drawn to his flushed body, paralyzed with an ample dose of desire as he nears his finish.

“Come for me, Joel.” You’ve shifted yourself a little closer to where he’s eagerly working himself over, encouraging him to let go.

He does— white hot ropes of cum paint his stomach, his actions slowing as the last few drops spill over his hand. He breathes out a deep sigh, giving you a lopsided grin as his arms fall to his sides. Eyes heavy with a mixture of lust and love.

“Fuck— now will you c’mere?”

You draw your lower lip between your teeth, now hovering over where his now softening dick rests against his stomach. You don’t break eye contact as you lean down and lick at the sticky mess.

“Goddamn— Ah!” Joel hisses, the warmth of your tongue dragging up the length of his cock. Lapping at the dappled layer of silky brininess covering his lower abdomen, purring with satisfaction as you swallow it.

“God.Damn.” You echo his words back to him, your lips move over his— he groans at the taste of himself still on your tongue.

A slow, content smile forms on your face as you tenderly kiss his neck, followed by a series of soft kisses down his chest and stomach.

“Gimme a minute— just need to regroup and then I’ll be ready to go again.”

“Whatever you say, my love.” Joel’s arms wrap a you and you melt into him. “Or I can draw us a hot bath and we can soak until we’re prunes.” A yawn perfectly placed at the end of your suggestion.

“Sounds like a plan. How ‘bout we nap then soak?” You sleepily hum in response.

"Love you, Sweetheart," Joel whispers, before pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“Mmm— love you, Joel.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #no outbreak!joel miller #pre outbreak!joel #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes #pedrostories

494 notes · View notes

etherealily · 8 months ago

Text

🄱🄻🄴🅂🅂🄴🄳 // 🇳🇦🇹🇪 🇯🇦🇨🇴🇧🇸.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. 🍃.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 4 : Shards

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Tiny glimpse into his mind because why not?

Desc. : "His hand, so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It's not like Nate even knew you.

You just so happened to be the secret to his success, and maybe, perhaps his new obsession.

No biggie.

I mean, whole of the first week of spring break, he didn't text you, you didn't text him, and it was all great and normal.

Pissed him off to no end, because how the hell did you recover so quickly from having a fucking gun in your throat? But, hey, whatever. Maybe you were just that goddamn weird.

The second - and last - week of spring break was when shit got intense.

Because he thought about you.

He realized he hadn't even fucking seen you around town the entirety of it, and that might have freaked him out, just a little.

He worried, you see? Yes, only about his games, and his college apps, but now, all of them had been tied to you, with a pretty little bow around them.

So obviously, now he worried about you.

So, obviously, he needed to find out just where the hell your lucky ass had gone.

He narrowed it down to two options. Both perfectly reasonable, of course.

One, you just had tons of work and stayed indoors.

Two, you had been kidnapped and murdered by the opposing teams because they'd found out about your miracle-working.

See? Perfectly reasonable.

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It was a happy surprise to learn that you were basically closer to his house than you'd ever been before, after you'd taken up a job at the local supermarket.

Well, happy for him.

For you, it was more of a you-were-seriously-contemplating-suicide surprise.

"You listen to Elvis Presley?", he asked, dropping his purchase down on the counter. Your eyes never moved to it, and stayed on his.

That was one thing he noticed about you.

You were always observing, as if he were a rabid animal that would strike at any moment. As if he would reveal his sinister intentions to you within enough time for you to react.

"What?"

He nodded at the speakers on the wall around the establishment. "Those connected to your Spotify?"

You didn't want to answer unless you knew whether he was about to compliment or mock you.

"Sir, I think you should leave."

God fucking damn it. Why had he never thought about the fact that you wouldn't - (and couldn't)- call him a motherfucker at your workplace? His joy knew no bounds.

"That's so hot. Say it again."

You'd 100% expected that. It was clear on your face.

"There's other people behind you with more items to check out."

He swiveled his head around for a moment.

Old lady. Sometimes he wished he wasn't raised right.

He sighed, nodding. "I'm next up, though.", he warned sternly, pointing at you as he gestured for her to pass him by.

The old lady patted him on the shoulder and smiled, moving ahead with her purchase of an unholy amount of bread and cheese.

And what's worse?

She had coupons.

Way too many for Nate to stand smiling like a good boy behind her as she dug into her purse and fished out probably decades worth of them.

"Yes, dear, so just run all these."

"Uh, ma'am, I wish I could, but most of these are expired."

Thank god.

"Oh, well, you said most. Let's just sort through them and find the ones that aren't expired."

Would it be homicide to kill her? She didn't really have too long to live, anyway. He couldn't say he hadn't thought about it.

"Uh, okay, yeah, sure."

"This'll just take a minute, sweetie.", she whispered to Nate, pinching his cheek as if that would make time go by faster.

"How about I pay for you, ma'am? If that's alright?"

If he'd been allowed access to your mind, you'd never live it down, because you almost thanked him right then and there.

"Oh, there's no need for that, dear, I can-"

"No, please, I insist. It would be my pleasure."

"What a sweet boy."

Both her and Nate decided to ignore the derisive snort that came out of you as you swiped his card.

"Here you go, ma'am.", you smiled, placing the copious amounts of cheese into the bag, then stuffing the bread in, too. "Anything else?"

"Oh, no, that's it for me. God bless you, dear. Both of you."

Watching her walk out, he began to genuinely wonder if this absurd purchase was all part of some scheme some criminal had put up to steal without your knowledge.

"You hear that? We're blessed, you and me."

"Do you actually have anything to buy?"

"Of course I do. I'm not a creepy stalker.", he hissed, slamming his palm down in front of you. Slowly, he lifted it to reveal a stack of eleven condoms.

Oh, yeah, you were blessed with this fuckass' presence.

You sucked your teeth as your gaze traipsed from the condoms up to his eyes. One of them winked.

"Is that all?"

"Oh, come on, you're not even curious why I have them?"

"Probably for the dozens of bitches you're getting.", you scoffed, ringing it up. "$15.99."

"For eleven individual condoms?!"

You shrugged. "Inflation."

"Oh, they better inflate for the amount of money I'm spending."

He rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself as he pulled out the money from his wallet, instead of his card. "Fucking old lady with her bread and cheese."

"You maxed your card?"

"Yeah. Why do people buy so much shit they're barely ever going to use?"

"Like you with your condoms?"

Ah. Nate could've absolutely lost his shit laughing right there- you did care.

"I'm going to use it all. Trust me."

How many times was he going to use the phrase 'trust me' on you until he realized the meaning had eroded away into nothingness between you two? Probably a dozen more.

"Sure. Thanks for shopping with us. Have a great day."

He pouted, stuffing the packets into his pocket as he raised a brow. "You don't sound like you mean it."

"Nate-"

"And why are you even working here, anyway? Oh, shit, is it 'cause I cost you your internship with your perv boss?"

If he felt bad, the grin on his face wasn't really screaming guilt.

"No, fuckass, this is my friend's store, he just wanted someone to help him out for a couple hours."

"Whoa, wait, what happened to Sir? I liked that better."

That was a lie. He fucking loved it.

"Please, Nate. Stop."

"One condition."

There it was. It no longer seemed like he saw you as anything more than a boredom buster. Sudoku, or a crossword, basically. That was you to him.

"Answer one question, truthfully, and I'll leave this... otherwise empty store right after."

"I'm listening."

God, that's all he fucking wanted to hear, and it was oddly exciting. He could literally say anything, and you wouldn't block him out.

"What would you do if I told you that I have a body in my car right now?"

"What?"

"A body. A dead body. It's in my trunk. Right now. What would you say? What's your next move?"

It's like he expected you not to notice the fact that he was tracing shapes on your arm as he spoke.

"Cops."

At this point, even if he wasn't bluffing, you'd still have reacted so nonchalantly. Because it was all in all tiring to continue to play whatever twisted game he was playing.

"They're not an option. It's either silence or help me. Would you help me hide it?"

"Nate, did you kill someone?"

"No."

"Then why even ask?!"

"It's a hypothetical."

"No, probably not."

He tsked, looking away for a moment. "Wrong answer."

"Well, it's my answer."

He brought his fingers up to your face, and your slight flinch meant absolutely nothing to him. Imaginary hearts now plagued your skin. "Change it."

"My answer? No."

"Please."

"Nate, did you kill someone?", you asked once more, praying for an actual answer this time, be it in the negative or the positive.

He smirked.

"Thanks for the condoms.", he whispered, grinning as he gave your cheek a light pat - that was dangerously bordering on a slap.

Would your trunk be big enough to fit his body? You thought about it the rest of the day.

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

His fingers rapped on his dashboard as he watched his phone, set down on speaker on the dashboard, too. Pick up, pick up, pick up.

"Hello?"

Yes. He'd never been this happy to hear someone's voice, and it kinda freaked him out. Okay, whatever. Not important.

"Y/N."

"Who is this?"

"The guy you broke all the rules with before spring break? Made out with on the bleachers?"

"You need to be more specific."

"You better be kidding."

"Of course I am." He had never felt more relieved to hear your stupid ass laugh. "What do you want? I'm not helping you hide a body."

He debated just asking you where you'd been all this time, why you hadn't shown up to a single party or hangout, but he decided he'd just outright ask the real question he needed answered.

"Which one's your window?"

A pause. "What?"

"The one with red or yellow curtains?"

"Nate."

"Red or yellow, babe?"

"Red." Good. You'd gotten so used to him that you didn't waste time pointing out the obvious by asking 'are you outside my house?!'.

"You sure it's not yellow?"

"That's my parents' room."

"Yellow looks more tempting.", he teased, as he shut the car door.

"I'm not messing around."

"Neither am I. Yellow it is."

"Nate!"

This was far too precious to him. You were actually worried. How cute.

The fact that he had to climb up wasn't really making him jump in joy, but he figured you'd enjoy that little touch of vintage chivalry.

Like fucking Rapunzel.

He tapped on your window once.

No answer. Don't fucking play around right now.

He knocked once more.

He was met with your extremely delightful glare as you slid your window up, watching him closely.

"Hey."

"Dude, you-"

"Shh, shh, shh. Let me in.", he mumbled, crouching to cram himself through, his hand still resting on the top of the pane.

"You're insane."

Immediately grabbing your face after he steadied himself, he hissed through gritted teeth, "Where the hell have you been?"

"What?"

"I didn't see you at all before today!"

"Yeah, we got a lot of work to do over spring break."

"This is why you don't take psychology, because you get stupid amounts of homework even during the holidays.", he muttered, as if he'd warned you about this eons ago.

"What do you want?"

"Party. You. Me. Now. Get dressed."

He almost punched you when you started laughing.

"You actually do have a sense of humour, Nate, good for you."

"I'm not kidding. Come on."

"No way in hell."

"You know what? No need to get dressed. You look great. Just come on. Live a little."

"You've already taken me to 'live a little' before, and I ended up shitfaced with a gun in my throat at school at 12:30 am."

Good. So you hadn't gotten over that. He didn't care if he was being sadistic - he was glad.

He sighed, flopping down onto your bed and ignoring the second glare to come from you that night. "This is so typically a teenage girl's bedroom."

He had no clue what he was saying, at this point. But he knew he was itching for a reaction, a reason for you to hit him again, so he could grab you and shut you up. He craved the conflict.

"Surprising, considering that's what I am."

"I mean, the band posters? Really?", he huffed, pointing around at your room as if he was giving you a tour of it.

"Have you even listened to Queen? Presley? Any of the oldies?"

The match was found. Time to light it.

"So the shitty music in the store was connected to your playlist.", he chuckled, shaking his head. "No wonder that old lady was so nice to you. She thought you were one of her Bingo buddies."

It was just a question of how long you could stand him sitting on your bed, disrespecting your music taste.

"If you're only here to invite me to a party, I'm sorry, I'm not coming."

"How would your family like me hanging out here?", he mused, tilting his head. You know, the one you'd probably love to bash into the pavement given a chance? That head.

You were so fucking hot when you were pissed, it was unbelievable to him. He could sense it, the anger.

The smell of your rage made him want to riot.

"You can't keep blackmailing me into doing what you want."

"Alright, fine."

Your uncomfortable frown made him snicker. "What's that look?"

"This is usually the part where you self-harm and tell me I'm being a bitch for not bending to your will."

"Tonight's different."

"Why?"

Because I'm going to unwrap every fucking secret of yours.

He shrugged, the corners of his lips curling downwards. "I don't want to."

"So, you'll leave?"

"I didn't say that.", he trailed off, watching you sit down on the chair across from your bed. "Let's just chill."

"Nate, when have you and I ever chilled?"

He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes at you, before giving you a sly smirk. His fingers emerged from his pocket as he pulled out a packet of pre-rolleds. "Right now."

"You're kidding."

"C'mon. Don't be a pussy."

"They'll smell it."

He lolled his head over to the door. "No, they won't. You're two floors up." He shifted to one side, patting the space next to him. "Come on, Y/N, don't end your badass streak so quickly."

His eyes followed you as you sat down gingerly, rubbing your forehead like he was causing you a genuine migraine. That's funny, she hasn't even seen me high, yet, (and she won't).

"Why do I let you do this?"

"Million dollar question if I ever heard one.", he scoffed, fumbling around his person for a lighter. He found it, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it, causing his next catastrophic words to come out a mumble. "But I'm glad you do."

He continued to watch your eyes change from frustration to mild fascination, to hesitation all in one second, as he puffed out through his teeth. "Fuck.", he groaned, handing it to you.

"I don't know about this."

"You think they'd like me?", he mused, looking at the door, and then back at you. "I'm known to make a good impression with parents."

"The no-blackmail thing didn't last long.", you huffed, taking it from him. Nate almost made out with you right then and there, the way your lips wrapped around it as if they were made only for him.

"Didn't want to break tradition.", he snorted as you coughed and sputtered, handing it back to him quickly.

"Gross."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

The last thing he'd expected from that evening was actually staying. He'd thought he'd get you stoned, you'd pass out, and he'd leave.

But here you were.

Next to him.

Freaking him the hell out.

He looked down at his watch. 2 AM. Fuck.

"I gotta go."

"You've been saying that for the past three hours."

Shut up. "Eh, well, it's not like my parents are worried."

"Why not?"

"They know I can handle myself."

"Right, because I'm such a threat."

"God, no. They'd love you." He shook his head subtly, grinning as you nudged his face playfully with your foot from across the bed. "You should come over, sometime."

"I'm not coming over, Nate."

The weed made sure you didn't push him away when he gently grabbed your leg. "Why not?"

"Because we're not friends. There's no reason for me to meet your parents."

"I just think it's right that you get to judge my room, too.", he muttered, lips on your ankle like it was his life support. "You know, justice or whatever."

"It's probably all monocoloured, plain, boring crap."

"Only one way to find out.", he teased.

He despised the silence that followed. High-you wasn't exactly chatty, it seemed.

"Tell me something about you."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Anything."

"This is my first time smoking weed."

"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart."

"You didn't ask for a secret."

"Now I am. Tell me a secret."

"I hate football."

You were more resilient than he thought, seeing as you'd smoked three cigarettes already, and the most you'd given him was your sports preferences.

But he'd take what he got.

"Because of me?"

"No, just generally."

"But you came to games.", he countered.

"Because of Maddy."

"You guys are close?"

You nodded, stirring slightly as you looked out your window. "Mhm."

"So she told you." Shit.

You tilted your head, sitting up as he gripped your calf, moving closer and placing kisses on your knee, too. "About?"

Well, if you didn't already know, no need to tell you.

"To come to the games."

"Oh. Yeah."

Nice save, Jacobs.

"I guess now I owe you a secret, huh?"

"I guess you do."

"You're not gonna like it.", he murmured, lazily tracing even more shapes on your knee, while his other hand had trailed up to your arm. "But I love your lips."

He smiled when the corners of your eyes crinkled up and you burst into a fit of giggles. "What?"

"It's true. They're perfect."

"God, I love weed."

You would, seeing as you smoked more of it than he did. Enough to kind of make him feel slightly guilty.

"It's not just the weed saying this.", he continued, shaking his head. "I'd fight wars for those lips. For you."

He shouldn't have liked the fading of your laugh so much, the slight trepidation brewing on your face, either, but for some reason, he did. "Nate, I'm not... I don't wanna-"

"Be fought for? Why not?"

He took the silence as a cue to brush his finger against your cupid's bow. "You don't think you deserve it?"

He watched your lips move under his finger as you shook your head, side to side. "Well, I do. And, guess what?"

"What?"

"I got another question for you."

Your frown was your response.

"Why didn't you push me away when I kissed you that night on the bleachers?" He knew the answer. Of course he did.

"I was drunk."

"Yeah, see, you weren't that drunk.", he taunted. But no, you were. He'd given you basically one and a half bottles. Just like tonight, taking barely ten puffs while you took thrice as much. You just hadn't noticed.

"I don't know, then."

"I just think that if you didn't push me away, it can't have been the terrible experience you made it out to be, in the car."

"What do you want to hear, Nate?"

"That you want to do it again. 'Cause you do. Don't you?"

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. If you could see your own eyes right now, you'd agree."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

He waited for a reaction, a scoff, an eye roll, anything, but you just looked back at him, and then down at the hand he was holding. Oh, it was the weed.

So he took matters into his own hands. No. He took you into his own hands, tracing the gap between your lips with his tongue before he pushed it in.

Your lips were war-worthy, just like before. But this time, something was different. This time, you kissed back.

There we go.

His hands ran over your back as though he were splaying a huge deck of cards across a table, and he came to the grave realization that maybe, just maybe, he was no longer doing this just for a reaction.

"Come here.", he murmured, making up for his lack of oxygen by trying to steal yours as he pulled you onto him. How Shane Crestin hadn't killed himself over the fact that he'd fumbled this bag, he'd never know. Loser.

His hands slipped under your shirt. Wrong move, seeing as you pulled away. "No."

Wasn't weed supposed to last longer?

"What?"

"I'm not... no."

"You seemed into it, like a moment ago. Face it : you want this. No amount of bullshit self-respect or whatever you wanna call it, is going to change that.", he responded, coolly, as he took a drag from the blunt, his lips immediately feeling the lack of yours.

"You're just trying to get back at Maddy."

God, he wished that were true. Would make much more sense.

He sighed, his forehead on yours. "I'm not, but you're not going to believe me.", he mumbled, watching you get off him and move back to the other side of the bed.

Oceans away. Too fucking far.

"I'm sorry." There was something he hadn't said in a while. "For, like, everything."

"Why am I so fucking important to you? If I just showed up to every game for you, would you leave me the fuck alone? No, you wouldn't, because you sought me out during spring break! Am I just an easy target?"

No. "I don't... I don't fucking know, okay? You just are."

"Is it 'cause you hate me?", you questioned, so quietly that he had to debate whether to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness or actually kill himself in guilt for eliciting it.

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

"For what?" He had no fucking clue what this could be about. Every single thing he'd done so far indicated the opposite. But he didn't want to let himself go there.

"Being your good luck charm."

Oh. He had to think about that one. "No. It would be weird if it was someone else."

"I just mean... it must be frustrating, when you need someone, and they might not always be there."

"But you will, right? Be there?"

"You scare me, Nate."

He scoffed, slightly, rolling his eyes. "You're unbelievable. Why? Gimme one reason - a real one - why you're scared of me."

"You're violent."

Okay, he was hoping you'd give an invalid one.

"I like beating people up.", he shrugged. "But never for no reason."

"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart. And anyway, it's not only the beating up that you like."

"Hm?"

"You like getting beat up, too."

Remind him never to give you weed again.

"Why would I-"

"On some level, you feel like you deserve it.", you replied, shrugging as you took a long puff of the miracle weed that apparently made you unreasonably perceptive.

Okay, confirmed, not even the word weed would be mentioned around you anymore.

"You think I deserve it?"

"Mostly, yeah. But not... all the time."

"How do you know so much?", he asked, watching your fingers get lost in your hair. He couldn't afford eye contact.

"Psychology."

"See? You shouldn't have taken it. It's creepy."

You sighed, smiling as you looked up at the ceiling. "Sorry."

He did not expect you to back down, that was for sure.

"It's fine. Never giving you weed again, though."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It actually took until the very last day of spring break for him to catch up with you again. Not like he was pissed that you pushed him away, or anything. Or that he was confused about the entire interaction in the bedroom of someone who, until three weeks ago, he wouldn't have been caught dead talking to. He was just busy. Sure. Let's go with that.

"Hey."

"Not now, Nate."

"What is your problem?" Wait, no. That kinda talk was why you were pissed at him. "Look, we should start over."

God, he sounded like a cunt. This was definitely something that pathetic Shane Crestin would say. Ew.

"Okay. Can you start by going over there?", you asked, restocking the shelves with whatever bullshit condiment you had to.

"I'm an ass. I'm a jerk, I'm- I'm a dick."

You were silent for a moment, before you added: "A small one, too."

He sighed, beaming with relief. "A small one, too.", he agreed, nodding. "I'm just here to ask you over to dinner. My house. I'll even cook."

Dude, if you didn't agree, he'd actually fucking kill you.

"No way you cook."

"Only one way to find out."

He saw the falling apart. The gradual breaking down. The glacier was melting. "I'll listen to Queen or whatever, with you."

The quiet was taunting him, but you came to his rescue. "No steak."

"No steak."

Yes. Fucking yes.

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borathae · 3 months ago

Text

↳ Index [Day 26 - Somnophilia]

Pairing: sub!Jimin x Mommy Dom!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU

Kinks: consensual somnophilia, cunnilingus, nipple play, nipple sucking, he cums in his jeans

Wordcount: 2k

a/n: you gave me these three kinks and then said he should wake her up with it. i know it’s not the longest story, but i feel like one can only write that much with these three kinks before it gets too repetitive so i tried my best and i must say, i like the story that came out of it hehe

The movie is still running. Judging from the sounds of it, it’s one of your favourites. Jimin has listened to it a dozen times before and could recognise it everywhere. He feels excited, knowing that he can see you soon. With a slight skip on his happy steps, he makes his way to you.

“Hey honey, I’m-” He halts and smiles. “-home, but you don’t know that. Do you?”

You fell asleep on the couch. Your body is exposed because you lost your fight with sleep before getting a blanket. You are wearing nothing more than your rope, face covered in a mask.

Jimin takes it off for you, throwing it away before returning to you. He kneels down in front of you, massaging in the excess serum gently. You chase his touch in your sleep, purring happily.

It makes his heart flutter. You are so beautiful and he loves you so much.

Jimin spreads the serum on your neck as well, following his touch with his eyes. You have the most beautiful neck. His fingers brush against a necklace.

“Hm?” He takes it out of the rope. His stomach tightens instantly, his pulse increases.

The silent symbol.

You and Jimin had a long and thorough talk about kink where the aspect of somnophilia and free use came up as well. You and he found out the lovely fact that you both were interested in these kinks and so you agreed on a secret symbol between you and him when the kink is consented to. You and he ordered a matching set of necklaces, which you will only wear when you are theoretically down for some fun.

Jimin knows that finding this necklace on you isn’t an accident. You put it on deliberately. Did you know that you would fall asleep? Or did fate perfectly set you up for him to find you so beautifully sprawled out? Whatever the case might be, Jimin feels hot and bothered. His once innocent desire to take care of you is gone, replaced by needy hunger for you. He knows your comfort levels and limits, and also knows that he can do whatever lies in these borders. His day was stressful and you are so beautiful and….fuck it, he is doing it.

“Holy fuck, Mommy”, he whispers shakily, dancing his hands down your arms, “you’re so beautiful, Mommy. So beautiful.”

He moans softly, lowering his lips to your neck to kiss it. You smell and taste like the face mask you used. Jimin licks it off of you greedily in hopes of finding your very own taste at the end of it. You sigh in your sleep, body moving closer to him instinctively.

Jimin worships your neck with utmost care. He would never dare to soil your beautiful skin with marks of his greed. You are supposed to stay flawless. It isn’t you who he owns but you who owns him. You and he never made this rule, but Jimin made it for himself. He is yours, entirely yours, and he wouldn’t dare to mark your perfect skin.

His hands travel along your torso as he kisses your neck, searching for the knot so he can open your rope. His head is dizzy at the aspect, conjuring up images of what might wait for him behind the fabric.

Finally, his hands find the knot. He lifts his head, watching his fingers work.

A gasp leaves him the moment he opens the rope. Just as he had hoped, you are naked underneath.

“Shit, this is so…” he trails off, letting his body do the talking instead. He connects his pillowy lips with your collarbones, but they don’t stay on this spot for long. He kisses needy paths to your breasts, moaning to himself because nothing will ever feel as good as your breasts do.

He cradles them in his hands and squeezes them together gently, burying his face in them like this. A gasp leaves you. Jimin looks up. You are still sleeping.

“Sorry Mommy, you’re so soft. I can’t help myself”, he whispers and buries his face back in your chest with more tenderness. He would never forgive himself if he woke you just because he was too greedy.

He guides his eager lips to your right nipple. It is closer him because of the position and brushes against his lips. He lifts his head, gazing at it while his thumb circles it. You must feel it in your sleep because his touch makes you writhe and purr softly. Goosebumps cover your skin, your nipple swells and hardens within seconds.

Jimin swears that he salivates at the sight of it, having to gulp heavily.

“You’re so beautiful”, he whispers and lowers himself with an open mouth. Your nipple sits so perfectly between his lips, forcing him to close his eyes because there is no better feeling than this.

Okay, that might be a lie. There are so many feelings which are precious to him. Your hugs, your kisses, holding your hand in a crowded room, clasping your waist on a busy street, kissing your neck first thing in the morning, feeling your shaky breath swirling his face when he first enters you; they are so precious to him. Quite frankly, being with you and having the privilege to exchange touches with you fulfills Jimin. Sucking on your nipples comes very close to that however, don’t be mistaken.

Jimin loves sucking on your nipples, soon leaking into his jeans and drooling on your skin. It is different when you sleep. There are no fingers playing with his hair, no happy purrs of encouragement. Instead, you lie completely still.

Jimin begins missing you. He misses you so greatly. He slips his lips from your left nipple after having changed sides already, looking at your face. Your lips are parted, but otherwise nothing changed. You are still very clearly asleep.

“Fuck, wake up please”, he begs and kisses a path down your stomach. He knows exactly what will wake you.

He did it with you a dozen times before and you always loved it. He climbs the couch, making himself comfortable between your legs. The way you positioned them gives him perfect access to your pussy.

Jimin eyes her greedily as he kisses a path up your inner thigh. He inhales the sweet scent of your moisturizer as much as he can, feeling delirious for you. He is so obsessed with you.

His hands cradle your waist, holding it while his mouth finally connects with your sweetness. Your body shudders in your sleep, Jimin trembles on the couch. He is finally home and it tastes sweeter than heaven.

He mewls into you, dancing his long tongue through your velvety folds while his eyes are locked on your face. You scrunch your brows each time his tongue graces your clit. Jimin has to work his very hardest not to get too greedy too soon. Even in your sleep, you should be worked up slowly. You deserve to be worshipped and to be tasted inch by inch.

He lingers on your lower parts for now, loving your warm entrance and your soft petals surrounding it. They move around his tongue as he flicks it in languid movements, giving him a sense of belonging.

You aren’t the wettest right now because obviously you are sleeping and weren’t turned on before that, but Jimin sees no difference. He loves the way you taste, swallowing each of your rare droplets hungrily. If this is how his stressful day ends, he wants to have a million more of them.

Further up your heat, just underneath your clit. You are so warm there, so soft. Jimin has to kiss the spot over and over again, giving you gentle sucks each time he pulls back for a new kiss. Something about it seems to work because your chest begins heaving up and down quicker. Jimin moans softly, dancing his hands up your torso until he can cradle your breasts.

“Jimin”, you sigh, chasing his touch. Sleep so very clearly still has a hold on you.

He feels dizzy, humping the cushions needily. He is helping you have a wet dream. He is making you feel good in your dream. Jimin has to curl his toes from the intense pleasure he feels because of it. The movements of his hips are without a rhythm, solely there to help him chase the friction his swollen cock so dearly needs.

Up, up, up his tongue dances, finally licking your clit. It is swollen already, forcing more leakage to soak his briefs and jeans. What he is doing is working and it is making you moan. So blissed out it sounds as it leaves your sleeping form. Your legs are restless as well, writhing slowly in an attempt to roll your hips up.

Jimin helps you by using his entire tongue for his feast. He dances the flat of his tongue up your clit and uses the tip of his tongue when going down again. It is a constant change between warm pressure and precise stimulation, bringing sighs of your bliss to the surface.

He takes your nipples between his fingers, massaging them sensually in hopes that it will please you even more. It seems to work, forcing your back to arch.

“Jimin”, his name leaves you again. Your voice sounds clearer than before, as if you were just one step away from waking up. As if the walls between your dream and your reality are finally beginning to crumble.

Jimin doesn’t know whether to keep the rhythm going or speed up. His greed tells him to do the latter, his devotion to you tells him to do the first. Perhaps he could do both. He increases the pressure on your clit, but keeps the tempo going. He purrs, pinching your nipples with each second touch.

Your moans become louder and louder, clearer as well. The writhes of your body are getting stronger and stronger. Jimin trembles because of it, barely finding the strength to breathe. Any moment now and he will wake you. He flicks his tongue and breaks you.

“Jimin, ah!”

Your fingers grasp his hair, your legs close around his head, your pussy begins throbbing under his tongue.

“Holy fuck, ah!”

Jimin mewls and moans, licking you eagerly to help you through your orgasm. You are writhing and whining, clearly surprised to find him between your legs.

“Holy fuck, this feels so good”, you choke out, rolling your hips up, “Jimin, ah, Jimin.”

Jimin can’t take it anymore. He climaxes in his jeans, feeling his eyes roll back because of it. It is one thing to wake you with his mouth, but another to have you moan his name with such bliss. Jimin can’t take much, but not this.

He thinks that he takes longer to come down. It was intense to climax like this, leaving him dizzy and out of breath. You pull him to you just as weakly, kissing his soiled lips while little sounds of contentment leave you. Jimin kisses you back, melting into a state of utter safety.

It takes you and him a little while to find the strength to break away and talk. Once you do, Jimin’s cheeks are rosy and your heart isn’t pounding out of control anymore. You smile goofily, cradling his cheeks. You and he are so close that his face is a little blurry in your vision. He is lying on top of you, giving you warmth and a nice pressure on your torso.

“Welcome home”, you whisper, having to snicker.

“I saw the necklace.”

“I know, I’m not complaining.”

Jimin smiles, having to rest his forehead against yours.

“I think I’m gone more than you are. I feel dizzy.”

You snicker, “that doesn’t surprise me. You’re very needy, always have been.”

He laughs and agrees with a kiss to your cheek, “I can’t help it. You own my soul, Mommy.”

“Mhhhm I do and it’s fucking safe with me”, you say, scooping him up in your limbs to cuddle him, “now come here you, I need to snuggle you.”

Jimin melts into you with a happy giggle, kicking his feet cutely.

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catnip-plug · 6 months ago

Text

It worked! (Ticci Toby x Reader) NSFW

porn without/minimal plot, genitalia swap, gender swap, established relationship, reader is implied to be female before genitalia swap, Toby has a cunt, Reader has a dick,, is this too weird of an idea,,,,

"Toby, Toby! It worked!"

The bedsheets were tossed aside when he awoke next to you, your blaring shouts quite hard to block out. He sleepily blinked the tiredness out of his eyes and tried to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the blinds.

"What w-worked?" He mumbled groggily, sitting up.

"What you asked of Him, it worked! He made it work, isn't that crazy??" His early morning confusion couldn't dampen your excitement. Toby was getting a vague understanding. Something about him asking the Slenderman for something, weeks ago. He groaned as he moved aside his own bedsheets.

You were practically hopping with energy. "Don't you feel any different? Look!" Swiftly, you pulled your pajama pants down, just below your abdomen. Defying all common sense, a penis, attached to you, sprung out. It stood erect and proud, something on the skinnier side but still a little longer than normal. It twitched as if to give a little introduction. Morning wood. Toby's mouth fell open in pure shock. You... you shouldn't have that. You didn't have that just yesterday. "Crazy, right?" You weren't fazed at all, meeting his incredulous look with a wide grin.

"How do y-you... you have—you huh-have a dick!" Toby said stupidly.

You crawled back on the bed on your knees, approaching the brunet. "Which means you..." Toby knew what you meant, and with twitching hands he lowered his boxers. He didn't need to be perfectly awake to see that his dick was just... gone—even though he was most undoubtedly awake now. There was only his pelvic bone now, still with his happy trail, but now he had a fucking pussy down there. He couldn't believe it had actually worked. He lacked any actual horror that any man would experience if they woke up and saw their penis had just disappeared. Instead in his mind bounced around the word: 'unbelievable'— because he wanted this to happen. You and him had wanted this—discussed this weird fantasy you both had and wished could happen. It was your bright idea for Toby to use his 'favorite proxy' status and connections to plead for the Slenderman to make it work; He was an all powerful, omnipotent being after all. So he did. One lucky day he was able to connect with Him, and he made his desires known. There was no response other than the given fact that He had heard him, and it had stayed that way for many weeks. Toby had actually forgotten about it, until now.

"Let me see," you gasped softly with awe, craning your head to see more of his lower area. Toby sheepishly pulled his boxers down lower, trying to ignore the fact that the sight of you, with a cock, dangling just above his legs made his stomach flip too many times to count. You bit your lip and, with barely contained wonder, ran a finger down his slit, making sure to brush over his new clit at the top. Toby jerked and a shiver sparked down his spine, his eyes widening. That felt, so so weird. So unlike anything he'd ever felt before. "Now you know how I feel," you giggled. You pushed on, running another finger in between his folds, but this time rubbing very softly over his clit in small little circles. A quiet gasp escaped Toby's mouth.

"[Name], wuh-what was... stop th-that," he said, his voice betrayed how ruffled he was.

"It's fine," you reassured. "That's how it's supposed to feel." You could tell the sensation was entirely new to him, making him feel wary. Toby swallowed hard. He trusted you.

You continued, taking things very, very slowly. Out of the corner of your eye you could see his chest rising and falling shallowly, biting his lip harder each time the tip of your finger ghosted his sensitive clit. He supposed that was the equivalent of his tip. Pretty soon, there gathered a significant amount of slick in between his legs. It felt sticky and bothersome, and he could feel the room was getting hotter. That, or his face was getting redder.

"Is this okay?" You asked. You wanted to make sure he was completely comfortable before moving on.

Toby nodded, his heart beating fast against his ribs. Arousal pooled in his belly; he just wanted to be fucked already. But the fear at the unusual and unfamiliar genitalia made him scared at what was to come.

You gathered some slick on your fingers and admired it before bringing it closer to Toby's face so he could see. "D'ya see that? That came from you. That's how much you want it." Toby stared at your shiny fingers and gulped. So fucking hot. Blood began to rush in his ears, his eyes swimming with lust.

Slowly, you pushed your index finger into his entrance just past the first knuckle. Toby inhaled sharply, trying not to overreact. He didn't know if it was possible to cum right now, but he sure felt like it. Just the thought of him having a pussy, and you using it to your pleasure, making him cum all around you. He bit his bottom lip at the thought. Fuck.

"You're pulsing all around me, yknow that?" You teased, a coy smile on your lips.

"Shut u-up," growled Toby. You saw his ears turn red.

Putting in two fingers or more was probably way too much for him right now that he was just getting adjusted, so you stuck with one. You pushed your finger further in and Toby's breathing quickened, gripping the bedsheet underneath him.

"It fuh-feels weird," Toby muttered. Nevermind the fact that he now suddenly had a damn hole where his groin is, but adding a finger inside it felt foreign and intrusive.

You hummed under your breath. "That's okay, it probably does. It'll feel better, I promise." With those words, you began to move your finger in and out at a slow pace, gauging his reaction. Toby's mouth fell slightly open before quickly snapping it shut, furrowing his brows. He fought the urge to let out any sound, but God was it hard. Given his cunt was literally brand-new, his walls were tight and gripped against your digit, and he felt every ridge rubbing against him. It sent sparks up his core. But he still didn't feel satisfied.

"[N-name]," he mumbled. "More..."

You chuckled darkly. "So greedy, huh? What, one isn't enough for you?" You began to scissor his entrance open, trying to get him to open up more for another finger. When you saw it fit, you slid two fingers in, easily done by the copious amounts of slick he was pouring out of him. Toby sucked in a breath, his dark lashes fluttering as he tried to concentrate.

"Fuck, Toby. You look so hot like this, you know that? So fucking hot, spreading your legs wide for me," you murmured. Your own arousal was evident with the pre-cum that was starting to drip from your throbbing cock, but you ignored it. Toby pulsed embarrassingly around you with your words, his face heating up terribly as a result. He unconsciously spread his legs wider, giving you more access. Plus a better view.

You started to thrust two fingers into him with a smile. It was so easy with how wet he was. A moan ripped out of Toby, the feeling of you fingering him so fucking good. He tried so hard to keep quiet but it was just too hard. Each thrust sent a blossom of pleasure to bloom in his stomach and crotch.

"Don't hold back, Toby. I want to hear you. As loud as you can be. Let me hear you." You leaned in as he attempted to choke back another moan and kissed him, slipping your tongue in. He groaned into your mouth, his eyes fluttering closed as you drank in his noises, continuing to finger him. After a moment that felt too short, you pulled away, admiring the way you left Toby's lips red and wet.

"Ahh... hgnn..." he whimpered pathetically, grasping the sheets beneath him. His eyes were screwed shut, his eyebrows twisted up in such a pitiful way you wanted to ravish him right now.

"Look. Don't close your eyes. Do you hear that?" Toby obediently opened his eyes. A wet, squelching sound filled the air, and he recognized it was coming from him. Every time you thrusted your digits in. "That's you." The filthy sound made his entrance throb painfully. "Look. Your boycunt in sucking me in, so pretty..." you cooed, fingering him faster.

"F-fuckk... ahh...!" Toby audibly moaned. Boycunt. Shit. He didn't think he could get more aroused, but here he was. Jesus, he wanted you to fucking pound him already.

Suddenly, you stopped. Pulled your fingers out with a dirty 'pop'. Toby looked at you with the most distraught look on his face. "Wha... what..."

Your hands glided over Toby's slim, pale body, snaking up his torso and over his chest. His nipples perked at your touch, sending goosebumps over his skin, and anticipation flooded through him, his vision hazy and clouded with horniness.

"Do you know how much I want to fuck you right now? You know how hot you look?" You breathed, your lips hovering just over his, warm breath fanning over his mouth. He stared down at your lips with half-lidded eyes, willing you to kiss him. So you dipped your head down and took his mouth in yours, relishing in how warm he was. Toby captured your face in his shaking hands and sloppily lapped at your mouth.

"So pretty... wanna fuck that boypussy... so bad..." you muttered in between short kisses.

"Then do i-it. Just fuck me al-already, God, puh-please, just f-fuck me," he whined when you pulled away. To his disappointment, you shook your head with a smirk.

"It's all about you right now." Trailing down his body, you left a path of kisses on his stomach, all the way down, even inside his thighs. Toby watched you with excitement, cupping your cheek lovingly, and he held his breath as you gently licked his entrance. Carefully, you plunged your tongue in his heat. Toby whimpered above you at the sensation of your wet appendage in him. It was so perfect. Like sweet, sweet candy. You couldn't hold back anymore. You ate him out in the most passionate yet slow and loving way possible, getting his juices all around your mouth and savoring the taste like it was your last meal. His walls pulsed around your tongue like it was begging for more, quivering beneath your power, and he cried and yowled and sobbed above you. If you two had neighbors—good thing the cabin was in the middle of the woods—they would think you were torturing some poor soul.

His moans reverberated off the wooden walls and none of what he was trying to say made sense to you. It was all slurred nonsense; cried and begs for something you couldn't make out. From the way he clenched around you, and the fact that one of his hands was gripping the bedsheets so hard you thought they would rip, you could tell he was getting real close. You made sure to make a show of humming and groaning in his cunt before latching your lips around his clit and sucking hard. That was probably not a good idea for such a sensitive man. Immediately, Toby arched his back, bucking his hips into your warm mouth with the loudest cry you've ever heard come out of his mouth. His wobbly hands found purchase in your hair and his legs snapped closed to keep your head buried between him. There were no words in his head. Nothing cohesive swimming around there. It was just pure fucking bliss. He didn't know what you were doing. It felt overwhelming, but at the same time so amazing that he never ever wanted you to stop.

His orgasm built fast in his abdomen. Rapidly increasing.

"Please- fuuck- PLEASEpleaseplease- hnng, I c-can't, I CAN'T," he cried as he rode your face. Tears bubbled down his cheeks in tiny rivers. They gathered under his chin and dripped down, and no sooner. Just a second later, Toby's eyes rolled to the back of his head. Stars danced in his vision as his orgasm completely overtook his body, the high so intense his jaw dropped slack as you continued to lick and suck everything from his trembling, spasming body, dragging it out just for him. You only stopped when he whined pathetically above you. He just looked so beautiful with his watery eyes, blush blossoming his cheeks, his chest rising up and down so fast, legs wide open and pussy dripping his cum and your spit on full display. You wanted so badly to fuck his brains out right this instant... but the poor boy looked so exhausted. He deserved his rest.

You crawled up to lay down next to Toby gently and gingerly wiped the tears off his cheeks.

"You did so good, yknow that?"

He made a soft noise in his throat, eyes fluttering closed. You grabbed his hand and he squeezed back.

"You did amazing," you cooed, brushing the hair from his forehead and planting a loving kiss right in the middle. You already left the window open so he could cool down, thankfully. Toby shuffled lazily to your side. He smelled like sex, but that was okay.

Suddenly, you jolted next to him. His hand accidently brushed your dick, still out of your pajama pants and still hard. You'd almost forgotten you had that.

A drowsy smile graced Toby's lips as he looked up at you.

"Your t-turn now."

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #fanfic #pwp #smut #ticci toby creepypasta #ticci toby smut #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #x reader #Genitalia swap #genderswap

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ironunderstands · 7 months ago

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Fu Xuan X Qingque is fucking peak IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-

Today I’m gonna yap about how underrated this absolutely incredible ship is, and why I love it, so sit back and enjoy because I have THOUGHTS. Also, thank you so much to @cosmicquilt on tumblr for providing me their own insight into it, as well as a place for me to begin, I really do appreciate it!

Before I go in depth on them, I think their status as *package deal do not separate* is really funny and cute, and I’m surprised people don’t point it out more with just how obvious it really is.

Here’s some example’s I’ve collected (thank you quilt for the first two screenshots!)

This is from the food event in 2.0, and to me it seems like Fu Xuan bought it out of curiosity, then Qingque had some and got messy because of it.

They are also together in the Penacony mural thing (just like Aventio hehe), and you can see Qingque reaching towards a gambling machine while Fu Xuan pulls her back, as if she predicted the other would immediately make a beeline towards the machines, and had to prevent that from happening.

Today Is Another Peaceful Day is the name of the lightcone shared between them, whose description is quite comical.

Fu Xuan did infact find her again, she is angry and the sweets Qingque bought to placate her don’t seem like they are going to do much 😭.

Qingque also makes an appearance in Fu Xuan’s trailer, which only tends to happen when characters have an established close relationship or connection (like Dan Heng appearing in Blade’s)

Their team joining voicelines also match perfectly- in fact they tell a pretty funny story of yet another time Fu Xuan goes to look for Qingque, who’s supposedly slacking off again.

This also implies that Fu Xuan knows Qingque well enough at this point to guess accurately where she would be hiding and when she would leave, which is adorable and honestly really funny.

Overall, on a surface level, their Looney Tunes dynamic is incredibly entertaining and endearing, making their relationship rather lighthearted and sweet. Girlboss X Girlfailure is always fun to watch and a personal favorite in ships for me is when one character has to deal with the other’s antics (you know who :3). I also think it’s a good way to set up a developing relationship, as they get closer and closer together each time they play this game of cat and mouse, which is something that is demonstrated by the game.

So, let’s look at them a little deeper now.

Within the quest, Omniscient Inquiry of Arcana, which is found within the main Xianzhou quest line, we see firsthand how much Fu Xuan actually trusts Qingque.

Even if Qingque is often unreliable, Fu Xuan is not at all surprised that she is the one who helped bring the Nameless to her, as Fu Xuan knows she can bet on Qingque to come through with her responsibilities when she needs to.

The thing is, Qingque is lazy, but she is by no means incompetent, and gets all her work done on time. Moreover, Fu Xuan knows this better than anyone, especially considering she’s the one who has to go looking for Qingque when she slacks off 90% of the time (something which she doesn’t have to do, she could delegate someone else to do it yet every time Fu Xuan personally sees the matter done).

So, even if Qingque is just a librarian, instead of fetching someone else to help, Fu Xuan also has her restart the base terminals for the Matrix of Presence, because she knows and trusts Qingque to be capable of it, almost without a second thought.

Even if the task at hand isn’t particularly difficult, and Fu Xuan could easily do it herself, she lets herself be lazy and trusts Qingque to do so, as I will get into further, they are far more similar than Fu Xuan realizes.

In the quest line prior, Qingque also describes just how much she in turn believes in Fu Xuan, stating that even if the sky were to collapse, she could count of Fu Xuan attempting to hold it up- and she makes fun of Fu Xuan for being short despite being of similar stature.

A remark such as that illustrates how time and time again, Qingque has witnessed Fu Xuan put her all into protecting the Xianzhou and its people, which has earned Fu Xuan Qingque’s utmost respect, even if that doesn’t stop her from slacking off from time to time.

As funny as their dynamic is, the genuine trust they display in one another is heartwarming, and as much as they annoy one another (or really as much as Qingque bothers Fu Xuan with her antics), they truly do have faith in each other. Continually, Qingque’s awareness of the burden’s Fu Xuan has to carry slots her into a unique role of being one of the few people who could support her in a time of need.

Which is exactly what we get to witness in the Heliobi event.

Fu Xuan gets possessed and fire’s Qingque because of it, who isn’t too upset about it as admittedly her tendency to slack off was waisting her life.

However, she attempts to give a speech to drag Fu Xuan out of her possession, attempting to mask it as her desire to not be fired disgracefully, but really she just wanted to break Fu Xuan out of the illusion.

Unfortunately, Fu Xuan isn’t having it, and spouts a lot of stuff to the ghostbusting gang, expressing that her former attempts to change the Xianshou’s fate were futile, and that destiny is unavoidable and unchangeable, and that human’s desires to resist it are pointless.

Then, she makes the squad + QQ play a puzzle in which she controls all the outcomes, just to demonstrate how pointless the choices humans make, as they will always lead to the same result. To possessed Fu Xuan, choice is merely an illusion, a waste of time, and she cannot be convinced of it otherwise.

Until Qingque steps in. And perhaps the greatest demonstration of just how much she CARES for Fu Xuan plays out.

Qingque starts out by saying that the game Fu Xuan made them play is not an accurate representation of reality, and that the universe doesn’t have puzzles for them to solve. People have free will, and even if Qingque uses that will to slack off, those choices are still hers and still CHOICES.

However Fu Xuan isn’t buying it, and this is when the core of why she was possessed in the first place gets revealed.

Qingque’s choices don’t have consequences, at least not far reaching as Fu Xuan’s do. But every action, every decision, every minute step in any direction that Fu Xuan takes could plunge the entire Xianzhou into chaos, and ruin EVERYTHING.

So, Qingque proposes a new puzzle, hoping to be able to change Fu Xuan’s mind this time.

Qingque fails again this time, however Fu Xuan is starting to get an idea of what she’s getting and, and Qingque reiterates that there will always be more choices to make, even if the puzzles appear to only have one solution.

Therefore, she tries one last time.

Qingque shoves her own solution into the puzzle, her own way by drawing on the help of the ghostbusting squad, but still Fu Xuan cannot be convinced, believing instead that the thousands of different paths people take all lead to the same destination, so making choices is pointless.

However, that’s not what Qingque is getting at, and in perhaps the most heartfelt speech given in this game so far, she saves Fu Xuan, and demonstrates why her choices DO matter. Moreover, she does it in the most Qingque way possible- by explaining it through a comparison to Celestial Jade.

It’s not winning or the outcome that makes Celestial Jade fun, it’s the choices you get to make while you play it which is what makes it enjoyable. However, much like how even if the outcome of a game is predetermined, just because the universe’s destiny could be predetermined doesn’t mean people are aware of it, or that it even matters. Like in a game, in your life , you cannot control all the outcomes, but how you react to the twists and turns it throws your way, and the choices you make because of that, is what makes living worth it.

And if Fu Xuan’s choices didn’t matter, she wouldn’t be making them in the first place. Perhaps she can’t prevent everything, and perhaps the universe really is weighted against her and the Luofu, but every day Fu Xuan makes decisions that help it stay around a little longer, that save a few more people, that buy a bit more time. The universe isn’t a game, and you can’t just determine your decisions to be meaningless because of some threatening ending that might never come to pass, and like Qingque says, Fu Xuan wouldn’t suffer the effort if what she works so hard for doesn’t mean anything.

By reaffirming that destiny is an illusion, Qingque saves Fu Xuan and breaks her out of the Heliobi’s possession. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

PROTECTIVE QINGQUE AAAAAARREAAAAA GRRRRRR TJEY ARE SO IN LOVE GRRRRR R SNANAKMZS AAAAAAA

Qingque tries to get out of work for good but Fu Xuan reminds her that Qingque reminded her that she had choices, and Qingque gets flustered and accepts her defeat.

What do you mean by that Fu Xuan, what do you mean by that, hmm? HMMM??? ELABORATE FU XUAN ELABORATE??? Sesbian lex???

So Qingque is in love with her boss and we all cheered, but don’t worry, and QQ also happens to get possessed by a Heliobus, and the way Fu Xuan behaves towards her is just as sweet and hilarious.

In her illusion, there’s a bunch of Fu Xuan clones who praise Qingque, much to the annoyance of Fu Xuan, who gets flustered and angry over it. Honestly I love just how many romance tropes that are displayed in their relationship, with this as a prime example. Like making a bunch of clones of your crush to praise you? Having Fu Xuan bear witness to exactly what makes Qingque happy (her praise)? The boss-employee dynamic getting reversed? I love it give me 500000.

The nickname??? Oh you just know Qingque was waiting to call her that, infact she probably had it in her brain for a while, but just didn’t feel confident enough to do it in her previous power dynamic with Fu Xuan, so I wonder what else Qingque holds back from Fu Xuan because she doesn’t believe they are close enough for that.

Ooh she’s mad mad GET ITS ASS FU XUAN YEAAAHHHH YEEAAH THATS WHAT YOU GET HELIOBUS HAHAHAHAHAH

What if I ascended to another dimension? What if I left this mortal plane? What if Honkai Star Rail what if? What do you mean Fu Xuan is fussing over Qingque like a wife when her husband returns from war, what do you mean she goes, “As long as you’re okay,” then immediately is like “get back to work,” because she realized she was being too soft. What do you mean she fucking PATS QINGQUE ON THE HEAD AND LEAVES LIKE THAT????

I’m actually insane about this like how does nobody talk about them? The most peak relationship ever right there and I see NOTHING??? Like not only is it fucking hilarious with their game of cat and mouse they having going on with one another, but they truly just understand and adore each other even if both of them haven’t exactly realized it yet.

If I were to be 100% honest if you told me that speech Qingque gave to Fu Xuan in the Heliobi event was a confession one, then I would believe you because that was the most romantic shit ever. Like telling your companion in a time of need that their choices DO mean something and that they are such a capable individual whom everyone relies on, who YOU rely on?? If I was Fu Xuan I would have proposed right there I would have summoned up a ring I don’t care.

It’s just, I love relationships where two characters just GET one another inside and out, and FuQing is such a perfect example of it. Something about a trust that runs so deep that the two people who forged that bond don’t even realize it because of simply how long it’s persisted, like they’ve just acclimated to it because it’s been such a fixture of life for so long.

They are each other’s safety nets, and when one of them is in need, the other always delivers and UGHH IM INSANE ABOUT IT.

HOW DID THIS FLY UNDER PEOPLES NOSES??! HOW DID EVERYONE DO THE 1.5 EVENT AND NOT IMMEDIATELY START RUNNING LAPS AROUND THEIR HOUSE BECAUDE WHAT??? Literally that speech Qingque gives to Fu Xuan is one of my favorite scenes in the game, perhaps right behind the 1.6 Ratio-Screwllum scene and if you know me then you know how absolutely bonkers I am about that scene. It’s just so earnest and funny and it encapsulates the themes of HSR perfectly, with Qingque reiterating the overarching theme of the game: Trailblazing, ie moving forward with life no matter the destination (destiny), as it’s the choices you make along the way and the journey you take that matters.

Moreover, that’s what makes it so fucking good; it meshes perfectly with the overall story of the game. Despite how busy both of them are, despite how they often have higher priorities or could just go to other people or whatever, Qingque and Fu Xuan consistently choose one another, for both the most trivial and the most dire of situations.

The road ahead for the Xianzhou is uncertain, but no matter how the path twists, Qingque and Fu Xuan will travel it side by side, and for that I will always adore them.

Thank you so much for reading! I fear I couldn’t be as intelligent about why I love this ship as I wanted to be, but I hope you at least got the idea a little bit haha. Maybe I’ll be able to me smarter about them one day but for now all my thoughts about them circle back to incoherent screaming. Honestly it’s probably because I like their dynamic far more than I like their characters standalone, so I can’t really bring that into the discussion, but perhaps with time I will be able to add onto this. For now though, all I’m hoping for is the wedding they deserve lol.

#honkai star rail #hsr #fu xuan #qingque #fuqing #qingxuan #xianzhou luofu #xianzhou #What if I lost it game what if #Best wlw ship in this game- WHO SAID THAT??#Also chat QQ isn’t a minor they are like the same age #My moms fr #Genderbent Aventio WHO SAID THAT #I’m crazy about them #I wish everyone else was insane too #Like wdym this isn’t the most popular yuri in the fanbase?#QQ did not give a whole ass speech for this to happen smh #“Xuany” just get married already I’ll kidnap Sunday

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sy-on-boy · 11 months ago

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My 2 cents on the plot / thematic relevance of Ch 95

This is not about advancing Plot B or showing Anya's school life (which is still true but has been discussed), but rather the overall theme of education and war. There was an excellent post about how Eden is at the frontline of the cold war and it is subtly shown through the innocent lens of the first graders (I can't find it now, would link it if I could). And I think that perfectly applies to Ch 95.

Quick recap on some references about education/students/war throughout the series (that I remember at the moment):

Sylvia gravely condemning the Berlint University Student Terrorists during the Doggy Crisis arc (Ch 20) and saying "did you learn nothing about war at your university?"

Henderson talking about his experience as a history teacher (Ch 27.5, Short Mission 4) and quote: "Yes, well, I have always maintained that there is nothing to be learned from the memorization of time lines. From the grand efforts with which our forefathers crafted society to the foolish notions that sent them racing to war, to not study the human element at history's root is to not understand history at all"

Note that Damian's best subject has been established to be history, and his family (father) has been involved in war, at least Donovan was PM during most of the war (established by Melinda in Ch 91). Donovan is also a graduated Imperial Scholar (Ch 64).

The Red Circus group started out as a peaceful student demonstration "advocating for peace and quality" (Ch 72) and "speaking out to protect the weakest members of our society". And Billy Squire said, "We were a respectable movement that fought for our cause with respectable means. It was the state that turned violent against us. So I'm not taking criticism from a member of the establishment (referring to Henderson, an educator). I'm gonna see to it that they reap what they've sown." Billy's daughter Biddy was killed by the state at a protest.

Less of a point, but Becky is the daughter of the CEO of a major military manufacturer. Despite their very likely involvement in military conflicts because they sell arms, the Blackbell cohort has been depicted positively so far: Becky being a kind, wonderful friend to Anya, Becky's father doting on her, and Martha again being kind and dignified (and also being an ex-soldier and acquainted with Henderson).

Eden Academy is a major setting for SxF and the themes of politics, education, and war are embedded in it. The students involved in protests/groups are older (the university students, Billy's daughter), but the political implications remain even among the youngest of the students— the first graders.

Hence, Ch 95. When mere first graders are shown to fight to gain connections, which can be political as pointed out by Henderson: "In the world of politics, dances serve as major social events". But of course, they are kids, so they see it more playfully and innocently, especially Becky with her shipper lens on.

Of course, there is also the aspect of getting to know other people better out of interest (the boys asking Anya and Becky to dance because they were impressed after the bus hijacking). But as people have mentioned, nobody mentions this to Damian despite him being equally involved in saving the class (all three of them got a star). The girls aren't interested in Damian as a person, they're interested in him as an asset because of his family and their power.

And I can see the teachers trying to diffuse the tension and create camaraderie with their friendly competition. To me, this reads as the teachers fully realizing "the battlefield of political maneuvering", and they want to remind the kids to have fun, to show good sportsmanship, to unite the kids, to operate as a class and be friendly with one another, and overall make it more lighthearted. It's nice to see the classes work together and get excited / win as a unit, especially compared to the more "individual" bits of fighting for a dance partner later.

We get a bit of comparison between Bill and Damian, with Bill showing good sportsmanship while Damian scoffs at him. But Damian ends up becoming ultra competitive and telling his classmates to not screw it up.

Like the Dodgeball chapter, Damian is clumsily attempting to lead the class by doing good in his quiz, while getting stressed and yelling at his peers when they don't succeed like he did. So he's not really a good leader. Like how him being good at history does not necessarily mean he is good at being peaceful (Short Mission 4 ends with Henderson staring in exasperation at Damian + Anya bickering with each other). But obviously, he is merely a child, and he is naturally immature.

At first Loid is all for advancing Plan B and analysed Anya's suitors in a rational (reductionist?) way by ranking them in terms of gaining intelligence, but he remembers this is just a dance, Anya is a kid, and she should do whatever she wants. Loid (and the adults) are very aware of the political side of the gala, but ultimately they want the kids to have fun and not worry / worry less about politics.

Because they're kids! They'll grow up and learn more and be politically active later, but right now, they're just kids. Kids who don't know much about the world but are eager to make the world a better place.

In the end, we get a panel of Anya and Loid "teaming up" to win Damian's hand for Plan B / world peace. The Damian-Anya dynamic is cushioned with the silly crushy feelings, but underneath it, Operation Strix continues to be a core motivation.

I find it interesting that Endo chooses to focus on the first graders and their innocent view of the world / politics. It's embedded everywhere and especially in a prominent school like Eden, but the kids don't really realise it / realise the severity of it. Heirs and heiresses are educated at Eden and grow up to have incredible influence and the power to shape the world. Our protagonist's best friend comes from a family that manufactures arms. Henderson mentions the importance of learning history to avoid making the same mistakes (ie. war).

So Ch 95 is a cute prom chapter. But I think it also helps to show the themes underneath the fun, bubbly interactions.

#spy x family spoilers #spy x family #spy x family manga #sxf analysis #meta #idk #what do i tag #long post

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strawberrystepmom · 4 months ago

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neuvillette x fortune teller f!reader. semi established rapport/friendship, mutual pining, flirtation, references to astrology. / wc 2.1k, divider thanks to @enchanthings

The heavy door separating Neuvillette from the rest of Palais Mermonia opens up with a drag across the floor, grasping the attention of the man himself while he works at his desk. The sun is hardly visible through the window behind him, still making an arrival into this world and taking her time just as you have.

“Please forgive my tardiness.” You curtsy with as polite a smile as anyone could accomplish while stepping through the crack. “You know how particular Mona can be when discussing, well, anything at all.”

The judge laughs to himself, aware of the mage’s tendency to mumble and subsequently hold others captive to her ramblings. Shuffling papers between his hands, he settles on tapping the bottom edges of the documents against his desk to organize the stack. Placing it down, he casts a measured if not nearly warm smile in your direction and nods toward the set table that has been awaiting your arrival.

“It’s quite alright. Although if I may, I’d like to encourage you to remind her that your time is as valuable as hers in the future.”

Entering his office, you shut the door quietly behind you and nod in agreement with his sentiment. You’ve always been terrible at asserting yourself, especially if you get the sense that someone needs to be heard.

It’s always strange to be in a place so grand. When compared to your office back at the newspaper, scattered with books and half scribbled messages that your connection to the stars has given you to spread to others, this place becomes a museum. Despite the differences in standing and work environment both, you never feel out of place amongst the hanging portraits and the stacked gold spined books across the shelves.

The Iudex also rises, making his way around the ornate desk where he does most of his work and arriving at the small table set for two to pull out your chair and then his. Nodding appreciatively, you sit down and immediately begin preparing your tea. You set the pitcher of cream next to your saucer, tidying everything while he looks on fondly.

“I’ve already added two sugar cubes to your cup so proceed with caution,” he mentions offhandedly, watching you reach for the small bowl in the middle of the table containing a perfectly aligned pile of them.

The pair of you have been engaged in this dance for long enough that he has become very familiar with your tea and how it’s taken; two sugar cubes, the tiniest splash of cream, four shallow stirs and your spoon will always gently clang against the lip of the cup on the final one.

Pouring tea over the sugar, you tilt your head to watch it pour. Neuvillette watches you intently, refusing to move even an inch as he settles into his seat.

“Mona is more than aware of the one appointment I maintain yet insists upon making my mornings complex for reasons I have yet to discover,” you sigh theatrically, lower lip jutting out slightly. Neuvillette steals a glance at your mouth but averts his gaze quickly, reaching for the chalice sat in front of his place at the table to sip his water.

This buys him blissful time to consider his next move. Perhaps he’s too careful in his approach to you, insisting upon his life being unfit for romance to avoid confronting the truth about why his chest flutters when you peek your head around his door. He swears he smells your perfume if he shuts his eyes and sniffs deeply enough, your essence permeating every inch of his office and consciousness until he can hardly think.

These feelings are hardly something he can run from or face head on. He’s caught in a trap made of his own desire for your company but at the same time finds himself haunted by the very real notion that his feelings may not even be shared.

“Then it’s paramount that we begin enjoying the time we have together while we can, no?”

This is the sentiment he settles upon as he works through his internal struggle, giving you a practiced smile and placing his chalice down.

Noticing the slight change in his demeanor, you lift your cup and sip demurely, smiling against the lip as the promised sweetness covers your tongue.

How could one not smile at such a kindness? A man who is not indebted to you yet enjoys you enough to understand your desires is a rarity. You’d be foolish not to flutter your lashes at him ever so slightly while leaning forward and placing the cup back down on the table below, handle turned toward you.

“It’s wonderful that you are ready to begin because the stars have spoken and given me some excellent news for you, Iudex.”

The pearls adorning the collar of your gown create a lush sound as you move, one that Neuvillette has long come to associate with your presence. It’s similar to the comfort of rainfall but accentuated by your laughter which he has not heard enough of yet today.

How can a laugh chase away his loneliness yet send him spiraling into its depths at the same time? A puzzling situation to find himself in, to be sure.

In an effort to compose himself, he raises his brows and crosses his legs with one knee bent over the other.

“Is that so?” Thoughtfully humming, he drums his fingers against his impeccably well dressed thigh.

You sneak a glance at his thigh and the way his impeccably tailored pants stretch across it while leaning in to hook your finger around the handle of the teacup in front of you, sipping and nodding to play off your own lecherousness lest you be caught.

It’s not uncommon that you attempt to shroud your readings in mystery though he’s never quite sure if it’s in an effort to thrill or further confuse him. He has never been one to indulge in games unless it is for the enjoyment of another but there is a compulsion in him to play along with yours.

The effusive smile you’ll graciously bless him with when you leave as thanks for being allowed this indulgence will make it worth his while anyway.

“May I guess what they’ve said first?”

A slight lilt of amusement in his voice draws your attention back toward his handsome face, head tilted to the side playfully.

It’s impossible to deny such a kind and charming man a thing. You nod affirmatively with a giggle, leaning forward in your chair but taking pains not to place your elbows on the table, instead keeping them resting on your thighs with your hands linked together.

“Be my guest.”

Your light as a feather response draws an elegant laugh from the man. He has left you no choice but to hide your pleasure at being the one to make him laugh by drawing your shoulders inward, going against your body’s natural response to shimmy them in excitement.

The mere thought of being someone Neuvillette enjoys enough to smile with thrills you. You could do nothing but make him smile for a lifetime. You’d feel permanently satisfied draped across the chaise in his office with a story or a quip or a joke to uplift him. Anything to hear the laughter that stirs a storm inside of you.

Realizing you’re losing yourself in romantic notion rather than reality, you focus back on the task at hand. Being fortune told by the judge while you’re the judge of his telling, a strange bit of role reversal. Maybe he isn’t so stuffy after all. You’ll let your mind wander to that possibility later while you’re alone.

He clears his throat, shifting his face to admire you from the corner of his eye. You feel his gaze upon you and fix your posture, shoulders no longer drawn inward but rolled back, head held high and neck extended.

“I bel –” Eyes traveling down to your now very exposed neck and throat, he stumbles on his words. This leads him to stop himself and reach for his water.

Taking a quick sip and shooting you an apologetic glance, you hold up your hand to dismiss him and nod to encourage him to continue. Swallowing, he follows your example and straightens out his posture.

“I apologize for that.” You shake your head and smile at him, holding your hand up again. “As I was saying. I believe that the stars have foretold that I’m going to have a wonderful day and that great fortune will befall me, correct?”

Smiling, you shake your head and bite back another giggle. He’s so loose with his tongue when you’re around, your sense of humor clearly rubbing off on him at least the slightest bit. It gives you false hope that these meetings are actually as you’ve seen them which is a shared joy rather than strictly business.

“Not entirely inaccurate though if you begin telling your own fortunes I believe I may be out of a job.”

This is, of course, untrue. Your employment with The Steambird is as ironclad as your reputation for being as trustworthy as you are lovely. The man nods thoughtfully, his face shifting enough that you notice it and you decide to give in.

“Would you like to know what they truly told me about you?”

“Be my guest.”

He echoes your prior sentiment with a gracious smile on his face. Now looking at you head on, he nods in defiance of his concern about what is to come from your sweet lips.

How could something so desirable ever foretell calamity?

“The stars tell me that love is coming your way, monsieur.”

He must have spoken too soon. Calamity it is.

“Is that so?”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, leaning back into his chair in an effort to hide his distress.

It’s not that the notion of love itself is distressing, it’s unavoidable in every aspect of his life even in the justice that he doles out. It’s simply that it feels daunting to consider having to juggle the responsibilities of caring for another person, something he will never take lightly, with the existing extraordinary life that he has.

Considering what it would be like to love another thrills Neuvillette, against his better judgment. A less unapproachable part of him longs to hold and be held; to wake and sleep next to the same person every night. These meetings with you are the closest he’s ever come to a practical relationship.

The moment the true picture of how he views your gatherings enters his head, he visibly stiffens.

What if the love coming for him isn’t…you?

“Are you alright?”

He nods in response to your question, the slightly uncertain look on his face quickly replaced with his usual smile.

“Of course, mademoiselle. I have simply been caught off guard by the stars and their plans for me.”

Reaching for his water, he grips the stem of the chalice tightly in an attempt to ground and comfort his racing mind.

“I didn’t mean to offend,” you begin but you’re stopped when he raises his hand and extends it.

You follow his lead, offering your hand to him gingerly. He presses his fingers against the tips of yours and his thumb to your palm, closing the distance between the two of you slightly. This may not be the wisest choice but he’s following the flutter in his chest that only grows with each passing moment he spends gazing down at you, large eyes looking back up at him.

“You could only offend me if you stopped sharing your readings completely.”

The sentiment makes you smile, looking away to hide it. Warm cheeks that you feel from the inside out tell you everything you need to know about how it makes you feel to receive his reassurance and praise.

You’re in too deep.

“Excuse me, Iudex?”

The two of you turn toward the door when you hear a voice, that of an assistant coming to alert Neuvillette that it’s time for his next appointment. He carefully - tenderly - squeezes your hand while placing it down with a different kind of smile from his default across his face. You collect your hand back and place it in your lap, settling it beneath its twin so that you can rub the spot he just touched with your own thumb to memorize how it felt.

“Forgive me but I must go.” He rises and bows before you, making his way to the door slowly but not before stopping to look over his shoulder once.

“And do tell me if the stars speak any more on these developments.”

He meets your returned look, satisfied with the dazed expression on your face. You nod dumbly, struggling to find the words to form an actual response, watching him leave. The door shuts behind him, leaving you alone to gather yourself.

The stars may like to know about these developments themselves.

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #kendall writes #dragonfruit

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mingi-s-dimples · 3 months ago

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Velvet Nights - Yeosang

KINKTOBER DAY 15 - REQ. BY anon

~"Virgin Angel Yeosang x Virgin angel reader; Please make it smutty but very lovely. I love when there is aftercare invovled. Also can we emphasize his birthmark?"

pairing: angel!yeosang x angel fem!reader

genre: 18+, cute

summary: your boyfriend gets *a little* jealous and protective when two other angels approach you, and makes you get a taste of his feelings, right in his bed.

wc: 4.2k

warnings: angel au, established relationship, yeosang is really sweet, virgin yeosang & virgin reader, pussy eating, face fucking, one round, aftercare, unprotected (boo wrap up irl!), cowgirl, idk what should I say more oml, unedited, completely consensual, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: Ayy this is a cute one I promise 😁 It's Yeosang after all. I kinda had fun writing this one, haven't written any cowgirl sex scenes in any of my fics so.I truly had fun ^^ Anon, I hope you'll like my work !

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

It was one of those nights when the sky shimmered with a deep velvet hue, star-streaked and glowing with the softest touch of the divine. The heavens stretched out endlessly, and beneath it, the grand ballroom of the Celestial Academy gleamed with opulence. A vast chandelier of pure light hung suspended above, casting a warm, ethereal glow that made everyone below look like they were walking on clouds. Angels of all kinds, from different realms, fluttered about in their formal attire—wings brushed in gold, silver, and sapphire, the intricate patterns reflecting their heritage.

You stood by the large arched window, your fingers lightly tracing the cool, marble sill as you glanced outside. Your heart raced, not from the excitement of prom, but from the quiet thrill of anticipation. Yeosang, your Yeosang, would be there any minute. You scanned the faces of those gathered, spotting angels from various factions, each marked by their unique wing patterns and aura. Your own wings, soft and feathery with a faint glow of lavender and pearl, trembled slightly with nervous energy.

We were from different kinds of angelic orders, and that made things complicated. Your family—being traditionalists—had strict views about your union, the ancient rivalry between your two lineages casting a shadow over your relationship. Yeosang was from a line of guardian angels, protectors of the sacred realms, while you came from the Seraphim, the more revered order, often seen as the higher-ranking ones in the celestial hierarchy. Though your connection felt pure and unwavering, your families viewed it differently. They saw you as mismatched, perhaps even rebellious. But love, as you had learned, didn’t care much for rules or traditions.

And tonight was your little rebellion—a secret date amidst the grandeur of the prom, hidden in plain sight among the others.

A soft rustle caught your attention, and when you turned, there he was. Yeosang walked towards you, his movements graceful, his aura serene but undeniably powerful. His wings, large and imposing with dark, velvety feathers tipped in silver, fluttered ever so slightly as he approached. He wore a sleek, tailored suit, its midnight-black fabric perfectly contrasting the pale glow of his skin. His eyes, dark and deep like the quiet of the universe itself, found yours, and instantly, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he murmured, his voice low and soft as he stood in front of you. His hand reached for yours, his touch sending a gentle warmth through your body. “You look beautiful.”

“You’re not late,” you smiled back, heart skipping a beat at the way his gaze held yours so intently. “And you look… perfect.”

His fingers gently intertwined with yours, and for a moment, the world around you faded. It was just the two of you, surrounded by an unspoken promise, a bond stronger than any familial disapproval or ancient rivalry. In his presence, everything felt right.

“Shall we dance?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye as he tilted his head toward the dance floor.

You nodded, your wings fluttering in agreement as he led you into the center of the room. The music swelled, soft and melodic, and you moved together effortlessly, gliding through the air as though it were second nature. Your feet barely touched the ground as Yeosang spun you around, his strong arms pulling you closer until your foreheads touched, your wings brushing gently against each other’s.

“I wish we didn’t have to keep sneaking around like this,” you whispered as you swayed in time with the music.

“I know,” he replied, his voice tinged with quiet frustration. “But we’ll figure it out. They’ll come around eventually. And if they don’t—” He paused, pulling back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with unwavering determination. “I’ll always choose you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and for a moment, you forgot everything else. It was just Yeosang and you, lost in the rhythm of your own world, your own love story, defying the expectations that sought to keep you apart. His lips brushed against yours in a soft, lingering kiss, the taste of it filling you with warmth, with certainty.

But as all perfect moments do, yours was soon interrupted.

Yeosang leaned down to whisper something sweet in your ear before excusing himself to the restroom, his wings brushing lightly against your arm as he stepped away. You watched him go, feeling the sudden absence of his presence like a cold breeze against your skin.

It wasn’t long after that when two figures approached you. They were both from the warrior class, their broad shoulders and sleek, metallic wings a testament to their power and confidence. Their eyes lingered a little too long on your body, and as they drew closer, the air around them seemed to change—less respectful, more predatory.

“Alone, are you?” one of them asked with a sly grin, his voice smooth but laced with an arrogance that made you uncomfortable.

“Just for the moment,” you replied politely, but you could feel the tension growing in your chest.

“Seems like a shame,” the other chimed in, stepping closer. “Someone as stunning as you shouldn’t be left alone. Maybe we could keep you company?”

You stiffened, glancing toward the direction Yeosang had gone. Where was he?

They leaned in closer, one of them reaching out to lightly touch you arm. “You know, we could show you a much better time than—”

“Than what?” Yeosang’s voice cut through the air, cold and sharp. He stood behind them, his dark eyes narrowed, his wings stretched slightly as if ready to shield you. His presence was commanding, and for a moment, the two angels froze, their arrogance faltering.

The two warriors backed off slightly, clearly not wanting to provoke a fight with a guardian angel of Yeosang’s caliber. Still, they chuckled awkwardly, muttering insincere apologies before slipping back into the crowd.

You could see the restrained anger in Yeosang’s eyes as he turned to you, his jaw clenched tightly. He didn’t speak until they were out of earshot, and when he did, his voice was low, filled with a barely contained intensity.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his hand reaching out to touch your arm gently, his touch a stark contrast to the simmering fury I

you could feel beneath the surface.

You nodded, placing your hand over his to reassure him. “I’m fine. They didn’t do anything.”

Yeosang’s eyes softened as he gazed at you, though you could still feel the storm brewing within him. In front of others, he was always so composed, his jealousy soft and understated. But you knew him well enough to recognize the subtle shifts in his demeanor, the tension in his wings, the way his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“I don’t like when people think they can get away with things like that,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

“They didn’t,” you said gently, stepping closer to him. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

He let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

Yeosang held you close, his warmth wrapping around you like a protective barrier. As he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, there was a flash of something intense in his gaze, a spark that spoke of unspoken feelings. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. His eyes dropped to your lips, and for a moment, you felt the air grow thick with anticipation.

Without another word, he closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and possessive, as if he needed to remind you that you were his. His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his emotion into it—the love, the jealousy, the fear of losing you. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, and you found yourself melting into him.

When he finally pulled away, his breathing was uneven, and he let out a low chuckle, almost as if to mask his own vulnerability. "I… don’t like sharing," he murmured, his voice soft but edged with a hint of frustration. "You’re mine, and I’m not letting anyone forget that."

His words sent a thrill through you, and you could see that spark of jealousy still lingering in his eyes. Gently, you took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Then show me," you whispered.

---

He smiled—a rare, mischievous smile that you only saw when you two were alone. Without a word, he led you down the hall to the private room he had reserved, his fingers entwined with yours. Once inside, he closed the door behind him, his expression softened as he looked at you, but you could still feel the possessiveness in his gaze.

Yeosang reached out, brushing his thumb across your cheek, his jealousy slipping through in his words. "You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured. "I can’t stand the thought of anyone else trying to steal even a moment of your attention."

You placed a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "I only have eyes for you," you said softly, and he let out a relieved sigh.

"You’d better," he said, his lips quirking up into a playful smile. But as he pulled you close, his jealousy faded, replaced by the warmth of his love.

Yeosang's gaze softened as he held you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your back. He leaned in, pressing another tender kiss to your lips, his touch delicate yet brimming with the intensity of his emotions. Every movement was careful, as though he was savoring every second with you, not wanting to rush or break the fragile magic between you.

With his forehead resting against yours, he whispered, “Are you comfortable? If this isn’t what you want, please tell me.” His voice was barely above a murmur, laced with both vulnerability and the faintest trace of that protective jealousy you’d come to know. He was searching your eyes, reading every shift, every flicker, as if you were the only thing that existed in his world.

You nodded, your heart racing. It was kinda *both of your first times*. His hand moved to cup your face, thumb brushing softly over your cheek as he held your gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet admiration. “I don’t think you even realize what you do to me.” His lips trailed along your jawline, each kiss tender yet filled with restrained passion.

He let his hand fall to the hem of your top, fingers hovering, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. “May I?” he asked, his tone gentle but his eyes intense. You nodded, feeling a rush of warmth as he carefully lifted your top, his hands gliding softly over your skin. He took his time, his touch reverent, like he was memorizing every detail.

He paused, his lips hovering just above your collarbone. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” he whispered, his tone raw. “I don’t want anyone else to see you like this. Only me.” The possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill through you, but beneath it was a gentleness, a promise of respect.

Yeosang met your eyes again, his gaze filled with warmth and a hint of that lovely jealousy. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, his voice soft, but there was a tremor in it, a vulnerability that showed just how much he cared. He wanted to be everything you needed—protective, gentle, and loving, but above all, he wanted to make sure you felt safe with him.

Your smile was all the answer he needed. He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands holding you close as if you were something precious he would protect with all his heart. And in that moment, you knew—he was yours, just as much as you were his.

With gentle hands, you reached for the hem of Yeosang's shirt, a silent question in your gaze. He gave you a reassuring nod, his eyes filled with warmth and trust. As you carefully lifted his shirt, the fabric slipped over his shoulders, revealing smooth, defined muscles beneath. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight of him, realizing just how strong he was—a strength that he always kept so carefully restrained around you, his touch soft and measured.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he noticed your reaction. “Didn’t expect that?” he asked, his tone playful but with a hint of pride.

Blushing, you shook your head, your fingertips hovering just above his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. Tentatively, you let your fingers brush over the hard lines of his muscles, marveling at the contrast between his strength and the gentleness he always showed with you. He shivered slightly at your touch, and you felt his hands settle at your waist, grounding you.

Yeosang leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I want you to know… all of this is just for you,” he whispered, his voice hushed but full of meaning. “Every part of me belongs to you.”

With a tenderness that made your heart swell, he took your hand in his, guiding you to the edge of the bed. His gaze was steady, affectionate, as he helped you sit, standing in front of you with an unwavering focus, as if you were the only person in the world.

He brushed a thumb across your cheek, smiling down at you. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice laced with awe. “I don’t think I could ever get enough of you.” There was still that flicker of jealousy in his gaze, as if he were guarding this moment, wanting it to be just yours and his alone. His hand lingered on yours, reassuring, grounding, as he looked at you with a love so fierce, you felt it in every heartbeat.

---

Yeosang's gaze never wavered as he leaned closer, his fingers brushing through your hair and tracing down the curve of your back. He lowered himself slowly, his body moving with grace, and his lips found yours in a kiss that was as soft as it was intense, filled with a quiet reverence. His hands settled on your shoulders, sliding down in slow, measured movements, feeling every inch of you as if he wanted to memorize this moment.

With gentle insistence, he guided you back onto the bed, his weight pressing down just enough for you to feel his presence, comforting and strong. His kisses trailed along your jaw, down to your collarbone, each one igniting a warmth that spread through you. His hand slipped to your back, fingertips brushing your skin in a way that made your pulse quicken. He was in no rush; every touch, every glance held a quiet patience, as if he wanted to savor every second, every heartbeat.

As his hands moved lower, his gaze softened, and he leaned back just enough to look into your eyes, searching for any sign that you weren’t comfortable. But you met his gaze with equal trust, a silent assurance passing between you.

Yeosang smiled, his eyes full of warmth, and carefully, he took your hand and placed it on his chest, letting you feel the steady beat of his heart. "I want you to know… you're safe with me," he whispered, a promise laced with devotion. He slowly leaned back, gently pulling you atop him, his touch as tender as it was protective, grounding you in his embrace.

Both of your and his wings retracted as soon as you let yourself sit on his lap and him on the bed. His hands resting on your thighs, you could definitely feel how excited he was already. As you were sitting on his crotch, you felt his cock pulse under you, sending a shiver of anticipation through your body. His hands travelled then to your bra, of which he got rid in an instant, then to your panties, of which he wandered around a bit before taking them off for you. You then slowly got off his lap so you could undress him. You unbuckled his belt and then got rid of the suit pants he had, his cock straining against his briefs. You took a deep breath and took his briefs off too, to which you slightly gulped, taking in the view. He chuckled, watching you contently.

"Come here sweetie, give me a kiss" Yeosang said and nodded, to which you crawled onto him and leaned in for a kiss. It was a heavy, lustful one, but filled with a drop of love and tenderness. That type of kiss that anticipated what was about to happen, but left room to feel the love radiating from him. He leaned in for a kiss, kis hands on your ass, squeezing it softly. You whined at the touch, feeling his lips curve into a smile against yours. He suddenly, but slowly started guiding you up until your back arched, not necessarily knowing what he wanted to do.

"May I?" he said and let you down on his face. Your face screamed *horrified* as you let your now-dripping cunt on his face, hovering over. "Oh- my god, Yeosang-" you whispered, breath hitching as soon as you felt his tongue finding it's way in. His hands anchored to your thighs, pushing you down forcefully to bring your pussy closer to his face. He then started eating you out, his tongue hitting all your sweet spots. Your hands were holding onto the headboard, back arching with every touch of his. "You taste so good, babe..." he said, completely fucked out and breath heavy, his nails digging in your flesh. You could already feel the knot in your belly thighten and.. as soon as his nose nudged at your clit a couple more times you came. He ate you out thru your high then softly lifted you up and pushed you down to his lower abdomen, where he let you sit for a moment.

"Everything okay?" Yeosang asked, forehead sweaty.

"Y-yes.." you muffled, still not being able to process what the fuck just happened. But you were damn sure you loved every second of it. You took a minute to look at him and take his beauty in. Your hand hovered over his face, resting for a moment near his eye, where his birthmark was. That was the most poignant feature you loved about him.. his cute, birthmark that made him unique. A birthmark you've probably seen on other people too, but on your man it looked like it was carefully painted by God itself, that's how pretty it looked to you.

"I love you, Yeosang.." you smiled at him, then your mimic changed. You lifted yourself off his belly and your hand slowly went to your folds. You fingered yourself for a short moment to lube your fingers up, then you stroke his length for a couple of times. He flinched at your touch, excitement building with every touch of yours.

"Hold up, baby. You wanna do it without... this?" he said, as his hand reached for the nightstand, where he got a condom from.

"Y-yes.." you shyly said. "I want to feel you... completely. It's my first time, after all... I want to feel e-everything-" your confidence slipped off as you slightly got embarrassed at your words, to which your boyfriend chuckled.

"Okay then, as you please, my love..." he said and his hands went to yours, reassuring you.

Your left hand placed his on your waist as your right hand went for his cock, slowly guiding it to your entrance. You let yourself down on his length, slowly but surely. You let out a loud gasp, followed by a soft moan as you felt him bottom down after two or three tries. A groan left his chest as you gradually and slowly jumped on his cock, your hands holding onto his chest. His hands went to your ass, holding tightily onto it, but not hurrying you. Though, after some thrusts, he easily pushed you a bit, wanting to feel you even more.

"I-uh" you muffled.

"W-what, sweetie?" he breathed out.

"It feels s-so, ngh.. good" you were finally able to say, slowing down for a moment.

"If that's so... why don't we.." his hands grounding you and his pelvis softly thrusting upwards, "speed up, just a bit?"

He waited for you to say something. Anything, the smallest reaction that could be read on your face. But you simply couldn't verbally answer. Though, in response, you started to moderately jump faster on his cock, feeling his length all the way up, deep down inside you, your walls clenching onto him. He had a vein on his cock which you felt way too well, rubbing against your aching walls.

"How do you f-feel, my love..?" Yeosang muffled, breath heavy and hands even heavier on your thighs. He moved them to your ass, softly moving you up and down on his length. Your hands went to his waist, holding dearly onto him. You could yet again feel the knot in your belly thighten, but your thoughts were soon softly interrupted by Yeosang's muffles and quiet moans. You sensed that he was close, too. So you did what you had to and started jumping up and down on his cock rapidly, his nails digging in your soft flesh, feeling for more.

"I-I'm, uh, close, love-" Yeosang said and raised his torso, dragged himself back to the headboard while still being inside you. His hands then went for your ass, moving you up and down forcefully, so he could feel you better. Your hands flew to his hair, and lips to his.

The two of you started making out, sloppy and muffled moans escaping your rapidly rising chests. His eyes glistened with lust, and as soon as he thrusted upwards into you a couple more times he came, filling you up. You fucked yourself on his cock and load through his orgasm, the squelching sounds and the feeling of his cock gliding effortlessly inside you sent you over the edge, the belly in your knot getting undone and finishing all over his length. He slowly came down to a stop, then moved his hands to your back. His dick still deep inside you, he leaned in for a thight hug, stroking your hair and back softly with his hands.

"You did so well, sweetie..." he softly whispered, leaving soft kisses behind, on your body, until his eyes met yours.

"I-.. I love you, Yeosang. I never want to be away from you..." you gave him a kiss on his forehead.

"Me neither.." he leaned in for a tender kiss.

He helped you down, sitting you peacefully on the bed, "let's get you washed up, alright? I'll hop in, too" Yeosang said as he lifted you up in his hands and carried you to the bathroom, where he slowly placed you in the tub.

You were so damn lucky to have someone like him in your life.

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