#lowkey freaking out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mysteriousrainsworld · 1 year ago

Text

*screams*

soybean stew

navi

pairing: choi san x afab!reader

w.c.: 5.5k

tags: smut, fluff, so much fluff, and even more fluff, established relationship, reader is not gendered (afab), san is so in love, he's so in love!!!! and it's so fluffy!!! and he can cook, but he's a little clumsy, did I mention the fluff?

trudging back home after your final exam, wanting nothing but to sink into bed and sleep through the next three years, san welcomed you with a warm bath and a home-cooked meal. and even as the moon fell to make way for the morning rays, he continued to shower you with his never-ending love.

A/N: this has been a wip since april and I kinda abandoned it because uni was beating my ass,, buuut I figured it would be a great (belated) birthday fic for san!! (´ ε ` )♡ and happy birthday to my favourite himbo ^^ happy reading! please consider reblogging/leaving feedback if you enjoy my work~ ><

nsfw & warnings under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

warnings: beware!!! the fluff may be deadly, reader is not gendered (afab), morning sex, lovemaking, oral sex (f), fingering (f), unprotected sex (👎🏼), multiple orgasms (m), multiple creampies, overstimulation, praise, edging, orgasm denial (only for a bit), nicknames (sannie; love, darling, sweetheart, baby), very sappy, so many kisses, like.... a lot, san gets so desperate at one point... oh lord, so whiny too, and so in love :(

Your soaked sneakers slammed over the pavement, splashing into the puddles of rainwater showering the Earth. The umbrella you held onto for dear life did nothing to protect you from the downpour, your lower half left helpless to the droplets the wind pushed at it, darkening your jeans to match the overcast sky under which you were walking. The revision notes felt heavy in the bag slung over your shoulder, and you wanted nothing but to burn them and have a barbeque over the flame to celebrate the end of your semester.

Dragging your sore body through the streets and into the shelter of your apartment building, you found yourself out of breath by the time you arrived at your front door. Your arm felt like deadweight as you raised it to unlock your door with languid movements. You lugged your body through the entrance and into the joint living area and kitchen, eyes falling on the tall figure of Choi San, all broad shoulders and glowing skin, swaying his hips to the music playing from his phone, masking the jingle of your keys. A sudden rush of energy – though miniscule – pushed you towards the man, your arms snaking around his waist, his body jolting in your hold and the ladle in his hand rising in defense with a throaty scream.

“Ah! (Y/n)- Fuck-” He slumped over the stove, the steam from the bubbling pot brushing over the smooth skin of his face. “You scared me, sweetheart,” he laughed breathlessly.

You managed a half-hearted apology and a giggle as you pressed your head to his bicep to watch as tofu and an array of vegetables danced in the brownish broth, the pleasant aroma making your stomach rumble against San’s back. He laughed to himself, dropping the ladle into the pot and twisting his body to face you, his arms encircling your shoulders and bringing you closer to his body.

“The jjigae needs a while longer to be ready,” he brushed his hand over the back of your head. “I should’ve started cooking earlier, sorry.”

You leaned in to press a kiss to his pouty lips and shook your head, an easy smile stretching your mouth. It baffled you how you were barely conscious a few minutes ago, but upon laying your eyes on San, wrapping yourself up in his arms, inhaling the uniqueness of his scent – a blend of bergamot and sage, with a hint of baby powder – you felt revived, ready to conquer the world (even though a certain man with broad shoulders and a pretty smile would fight every entity that opposed you before you had the chance to lift a finger).

“I don’t mind waiting,” you pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth before leaning away to admire the stupid smile on his face, his eyes glowing with unrivaled adoration.

“How about I run you a bath, hm? Dinner should be done by the time you finish.” His fingers rubbed small, warming circles over the damp material of the coat you didn’t bother shrug off upon entry, too engrossed in greeting your boyfriend.

You nodded, an easy smile twisting the corners of your lips as you swayed gently in San’s arms. He took you in, from the way the wind had left your locks dishevelled to the dark circles under your weary eyes. San could see your mismatched socks through the slight gap separating your bodies. They weren’t even similar colours—proof of how exhausted you actually were. He cupped your jaw, and you felt the drag of the bandages wrapped around two of his fingers across your cheek. You grabbed his hand and held it in front of you, shooting a glare at him while he sheepishly looked to the side. Injuries were inevitable when you leave a man who can’t even walk straight alone with a sharp knife. Though, scolding San for hurting himself while doing something so thoughtful was not within your capabilities. The guilt would eat at your insides for weeks until it left a hollow cavity brimming with rue and self-condemnation.

You brought the bandaged fingers to your lips, pressing tender kisses to the wounded skin. “Thank you, Sannie,” you gently spoke. For everything you do for me, you silently added. And the smile on San’s face told you he understood.

He had every little detail about you engraved into his mind, from the blemishes decorating your skin to the way your eyes spoke to him when putting your thoughts into words proved to be a task too difficult. You sometimes felt like San knew you better than you did yourself, recognizing exactly what you need before you even had the chance to think about it. And whenever you felt self-conscious about not being as perceptive, San was quick to assure you that you did more than enough for him, that your smile alone could solve all his predicaments.

San led you to the bathroom, turning away from you as you began to strip. He sat at the edge of the bathtub, switching on the water and holding his hand under the tap until he deemed it warm enough, plugging the drain and getting up. Turning back around, San’s eyes fixed on your exposed skin while he blindly reached for the cabinet, tracing the swell of your breasts and the curvature of your waist, blinking slowly as he felt saliva pooling in his mouth at the sight of you before him.

And then he met your eyes, freezing in place when you raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat – a little louder than he’d intended – and hoped you wouldn’t notice the bright red tinting his cheeks as he desperately scrambled to grab onto the handle, flinging the cabinet door open and effectively hiding his face behind the wood. You stifled a laugh, shoving your clothes into the laundry basket while San rummaged through the items stored underneath the sink, pulling out a rose-shaped bath bomb. He stood back up, smiling like an idiot when he turned to face you again, the previous timidity nowhere to be seen as he ogled your bare body with newfound confidence.

“You’re insufferable,” you grimaced, shying away from his gaze.

He breathed out a laugh, the fondness glimmering in his eyes sending a wave of warmth through your body and straight to your heart, sensing as it swelled with adoration. You wondered what you might have done in a previous life that deemed you deserving of Choi San—a man who never failed to make you feel loved, cherished, wanted.

“Stop it,” you whined when San’s eyes remained on you, though not moving off your face.

“It’s hard to look away from you, darling,” he swooned, putting his arms up to protect himself from the towel you threw his way, a soft chuckle echoing in the bathroom.

You waited for him to turn his back to you before allowing the smile you’d been holding back to sneak onto your face, tilting your head down to shield it from view. San didn’t bother hiding his own, dimples sinking into his cheeks as he dropped the bath bomb into the tub, watching it fizz and leak a soft shade of pink into the water.

“Let me know if the water’s too hot,” San spoke, making his way back to you.

He held your face in his hands, pressing his lips to your forehead before pulling away with an easy smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes. You hummed a ‘thank you,’ passing San to step into the water, jolting when a warm palm landed on your ass, the sound reverberating between the walls.

“Yah!” You yelled and watched as the culprit escaped, leaving behind a trail of high-pitched giggles to keep you company.

You shook your head, a smile on your lips, and continued your descent into the warm bath. You relaxed your body, sighing contently when the water brushed the tip of your nose, feeling the weariness of this past month melt away into nothing.

San placed two bowls of rice down on the dining table beside a pair of empty ones, walking back to the stove to grab the bubbling pot of stew. The distant roar of the hairdryer stopped, and the bathroom door swung open down the hall. You walked out, a trail of steam following you as you made your way to the kitchen to watch San place the pot down on the wooden table. He straightened up and an easy smile took over his lips when his eyes landed on you—dressed in one of his hoodies, your cheeks flushed from the warm bath. You found yourself rushing into his open arms, burying your face into San’s chest and making a home in his cordial embrace. He nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo and pressing a kiss to your hair.

San placed another peck to your temple before pulling away and leading you to a chair, pulling it out, and waiting for you to sit down before pushing it back in. You shook your head and huffed out a laugh at the simple, yet endearing gestures engraved so deeply into San’s mannerisms. You’d thought they would’ve stopped after a couple months of dating, but here you were, quite a few years in and he remained the gentleman you had fallen in love with on a windy autumn afternoon.

San walked around the table and took the seat across from you, reaching for the ladle and pouring stew into one of the empty bowls, handing it to you before filling up his own. You smiled, inhaling the steam dancing above your bowl, exhaling with a deep, happy hum. You picked up your spoon, scooping up some of the rice and dipping it into the stew before bringing it to your mouth. You blew on it, aware of San’s eyes on you, gauging your reaction as you chewed on the food.

“Be honest,” he spoke, the smile on his lips carrying a hint of tension and anxiety.

You knew he cared the most about your opinion, and wanting nothing but to see the dimples sinking into his cheeks, you fluttered your eyes shut and swayed your body from side to side while humming exaggeratedly. “Mmm! Sannie, this is the best meal I’ve ever had!”

You reached across the table to cover his hand with your palm, and he didn’t waste time flipping it over and giving yours a squeeze. The smile stretching his lips nearly split his face open, a bright red colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “It’s my mum’s recipe,” he scratched at his nape with his free hand.

You felt your chest well up with infatuation, fondness, love. Choi San occupied every inch of your being, and he was wholly unaware of it all—the effect he had on you, how you melted into putty in hands whenever he smiled your way. The gentle touches, the sappy flirting. He drove you crazy at times, and you wondered when you became greedy, wanting to rob the dimpled man of every last drop of his love.

“Well, you did it justice. It’s delicious,” you mirrored the smile he was giving you.

Your fingers remained entwined throughout dinner, even when San directed his spoon towards you, shoveling half of his own portion into your mouth despite your complaints. You tried doing the same, but for every spoon you pushed past his lips, he fed you two back until you were on the verge of exploding, swearing on every living family member you had that another bite would make your heart stop. San only laughed, extending his free arm to brush away the grain of rice stuck to the corner of your mouth, leaning back and sucking the food off his thumb with a coy smile.

You cleared your throat, ignoring the flash of warmth coursing through your body at the action. You were so adorable, San thought, getting up when you did, plastering himself to your back and waddling with you to the living room. You held onto his arms where they were crossed around your chest, stopping by the couch before unwinding your limbs and twisting around to face him. With his hands on your waist, San urged you closer until your arms wrapped around his neck, leaning down to press his mouth to yours.

The kiss was soft, your lips slotting perfectly over each other while you shared your body heat, your fingers tangling in the hair at San’s nape and lightly scratching at the skin. San parted from you only to place tender pecks over your pouted lips, trailing his own over the plushness and to your cheeks, nuzzling his nose against them before pulling away. He walked you backwards until the backs of your knees met the couch, dropping you gently onto the cushion. You found yourself wrapped in your favourite blanket before you could complain about San's hands not being on you, tucked into the corner of the couch with a movie playing on the TV. With a kiss to your forehead and a whispered “I’ll be right back,” San walked back to the kitchen, giggling menacingly at your displeased grumbling.

San’s hips swayed while he loaded the dishwasher, his thoughts revolving around a certain individual impatiently waiting for him on the couch. An individual he was helplessly infatuated with, having built his future in his mind around them—around their interests, their occupation, their preferred paint colour, their desired pet, whether he’d have to build a cot at some point in his life. He rinsed down the spoons while thinking back to the first time he saw you—sat on a bench under the yellowing tree, bright red and orange colouring the dying leaves. How lucky he was, San thought, to still be looked at the same way by the person he was in love with. All starry eyes and warm smiles, as though he’d built you a kingdom with nothing but his calloused hands.

Slipping off his bright pink rubber gloves, he made his way past the dining table and into the living area, his bare feet padding across the carpeted floor and stopping right in front of your sleeping figure. He mooned over your resting face for a few moments, the TV playing idly in the background as he studied the soft furrow of your eyebrows, the gentle grip you had on the corner of the blanket in which you were wrapped up in, the thin line of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and onto the cushion under your head. San's fist tightened in resistance, the squeal tickling the base of his throat fighting to be let out as he barely held back the aggressive stomps. Everything about you drove him insane, even when you were doing something as simple as fulfilling a basic human need. He took you in for longer than he’d wish to confess, trailing his eyes over every inch of your face before snapping out of the trance he’d found himself in, a dribble of saliva leaving his own mouth while fondness brimmed in his chest.

He scooped you up in his arms, careful not to awaken you, small, light steps carrying him to your shared bedroom. Abruptly stopping in the middle of the hallway, San bit down on his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut when you nuzzled your face into his chest, resisting the urge to cover your face in kisses. His grip on you tightened and he willed his legs to move, taking a few – slightly hurried – strides through the hallway and into your room.

Delicately placing you under the covers, San untangled you from the fluffy blanket and threw it over the duvet—the night grew cold now that winter was inching closer. He made a quick work of his clothes, throwing on a hoodie not strained with splotches of soybean paste before slipping into bed. His arm naturally slid under your head, his other arm snaking around your waist and tucking you into his chest, a satisfied exhale blowing out of your nose. Sleep found him fleetly, hints of rose mixing with your natural scent to surround him with familiar amenity, your body soft and pliant against his. Pressing his lips to your forehead, San wrapped himself around you and allowed the gentle tugs of slumber to shut his eyes, his last thoughts circling around the person in his arms, hoping the next day would come quickly, wanting nothing more but to drown them in his affection.

Streaks of gold filtered through the chiffon curtains, the sheer material futile against the aurous beams of light revering the start of the new day. Peeking your eyes open, you blinked away the contrasting brightness of your room, shadows splayed over the disordered sheets and a warm body plastered to your side. San’s head lay lower on the pillow, his exhales blowing over your neck, features softened in tranquility while his chest rose and fell with each breath. You wondered if he was dreaming of you.

Your shoulders felt light, your breathing easy, and the stress of assignments and exams gone with the moonless night, the new sun casting shadows over the face tucked into your neck. San had been so patient with you, planning dates around your busy schedule and racking up the phone bill as he pulled recipe after recipe from his mother every evening. While you were too immersed in reading articles, San made sure you didn’t skip meals, that your water bottle was always full and sitting on the right side of your desk, that your shared home remained clean, that the knots in your shoulders never wound too tight, his delicate fingers working over your muscles as you clung to his torso at night. And though he never deprived you of his affection, you felt an untamable need for him, a wildfire burning in your gut as you took in his resting features.

You started off gentle, your lips feathering over San’s temple and down to his cheekbone, quickly growing frustrated at the continued evenness of his breath. So the needy, openmouthed kisses began, leaving a thin sheen of saliva in the shape of your lips reflecting the morning rays, your fingers brushing dark strands off his forehead to plant kisses there as well. You felt his nose twitch as you pecked down the bridge, the subtle pouting of his lips curling the corners of yours.

Your hands made their way under San’s sleep shirt, your nails dragging over his spine before splaying your palms out to feel the warmth of his skin. You threw your leg over his hip, shuffling closer to his body and trailing your lips down to his cupid’s bow. “Sannie,” kiss, “wake up,” kiss.

He peeked an eye open to look at you, quickly shutting it as he stretched out his limbs, a deep groan echoing in his chest. He relaxed back in your arms, blinking his eyes in quick succession to peer at you with hints of his dream still playing in his head.

“’Morning,” he mumbled, the rasp in his voice only adding to your need for him, his knuckles running over the slope of your jawline.

You leaned down to kiss him again, a slow dancing of lips while the thrushes and blackbirds sang a melody on your windowsill. San was still waking up, you knew that, yet you couldn’t help but nestle closer, holding his face and nuzzling your nose into the side of his as you deepened the kiss. It took him a few seconds to notice your restlessness, your hand slipping off his jaw to run over his sides, sliding under the hem of his shirt and squeezing at the flesh of his waist.

Shaking the last of his drowsiness away, he rolled your bodies sideways until he had you on your back, looking up at him with a mix of confusion and lust. San knew you better than you knew yourself, you remembered as he leaned over you to press a firm, closemouthed kiss to your lips, followed by a trail of tender pecks down your neck. “What’s got you so needy this early in the morning?”

You could feel his smile on your skin as he peppered your neck with kisses, dragging his teeth over your pulse point. “Missed you,” you breathed out, fingers curling around the material hugging his broad shoulders. “Want you.”

San hummed, low in his throat, “I’m here, I’m all yours.” His hands coasted over your sides and down to your hips to hook his fingers into your waistband, slowly sliding off your bottoms and panties in one go, his lips pressing over every inch of newly exposed skin.

Your pants and his haphazardly thrown behind him, San ran both hands down your inner thighs to spread you open, slotting himself between your legs and leaning over you to dot kisses over your jawline and cheeks. “Can I taste you, my darling?”

The rough material of his boxers pressed against your mound, your vision blurring at the friction. “But I want you,” you whined, sliding a hand down his back and resting it over his firm ass to pull him closer.

“Just for a little bit,” he kissed at your pouty lips, grinding his hips into you, the hard outline of his cock straining against the thin fabric. “Please? ‘Wanna feel you on my tongue.”

A shiver ran through you, and you nodded hesitantly, watching as San descended your body with a muttered ‘thank you.’

‘Just for a little bit’ faded into the illuminated dust swimming in the air around you, your mind disconnecting from reality the moment San’s lips found your pussy. It felt like hours in a realm of ecstasy, hot arousal gushing out of you with every suck to your clit, your vision blurring when thick fingers breached your entrance. San lapped at your cunt like a starved man, his tongue flattening over your swollen nub while you desperately rolled your hips over his face, exhaling breathy moans as you neared your high for the nth time, only for him to anchor you down on the mattress with an arm over your lower belly, retracting his tongue to press tender kisses over and around your slit.

“No, no,” you whined as your orgasm dwindled, tears pooling in your eyes and your hands tugging at his dark strands, attempting to push his face back onto you. His fingers curled inside you, pushing up into your g-spot to remind you of their presence, hips slowly rutting into the sheets under him. “Sannie, please.”

He slipped out of you to trail soft kisses along the heated skin as he journeyed up your body, pressing his lips to the pout on yours before pulling away to take you in—all teary eyes and slick skin, gilded under the early rays. Strong arms enclosed around you, soft tufts of dark hair tickling the side of your neck as San dipped his head onto your shoulder. Inhaling deeply, he breathed in the familiar scent of your bodywash, a hint of your shampoo tickling his senses as he basked in your warmth. A muttered echo of his name broke him away from you, his lips parting off your skin to allow a string of curses exit, his leaking cock now burrowed between your folds, cockhead teasing over your clit. “Are you ready for me, love?”

Your frantic nodding and pleas brought a smile to his face, lowering himself over you again to gather you into his arms, his hand sliding between your bodies to align himself with your waiting cunt. Your hips jumped when his thick girth breached your entrance, your nails dragging down San’s spine at the gradual stretch. Feathery pecks turned into open-mouthed kisses over your face, San’s heavy breaths interrupted by the comforting gesture. He trailed his lips down your jaw to nuzzle his nose into the skin below your ear, his pants growing into shaky moans when his cock fully sheathed within you, the gentle squeeze of your walls around him shaking his body with violent shivers.

“Please move,” you tried, rolling your hips in protest, and San’s hands scrambled to stop you.

“W-wait, fuck-”

His body convulsed atop yours, a gravelly grunt ripping through his chest as a familiar warmth spread through your lower belly. His cock twitched inside you, spurting pathetic ropes of cum while he curled in on himself, shuddering as his orgasm washed over him unexpectedly with repeated apologies on his tongue. Your hand smoothed over his back, rubbing soothing circled into his skin while he recovered, imagining the bright red coating the cheeks he was hiding from you.

“San?”

He hummed, his voice small.

“Can you look at me?”

He shook his head, soft strands grazing over your skin at the motion.

“Why not?”

He paused, and you could feel the warmth of his face on your shoulder, “’m embarrassed,” he mumbled.

Your palms cupped his heated cheeks, prying him off your skin and holding his head above you to look at him properly. Teary, half-lidded eyes stared back at you, flushed cheeks squished inwards and his lips pouted in chagrin. You guided his face down to yours, pressing comforting kisses over his eyebrow and temple, “no need to be embarrassed, love.”

He huffed out a breath, tilting his head to slot his lips over yours, leaving a chaste kiss on your mouth before wrapping his arms around you to bring you into his chest. His hips began rolling into yours before you could question it, a breathy moan blowing over San’s collarbone as his cock glided over your walls.

“Missed you so much,” he planted a kiss on the side of your neck, “couldn’t help it, ‘felt so good,” he rambled into your skin.

You could feel his cock chubbing up inside you again, San’s soft grunts echoing in your ear as he pushed through the overstimulation. Languid grinding turned into pointed thrusts, rough palms running over the outside of your thighs and guiding them around his waist, waiting until your feet locked at the small of his back before readjusting his angle. With San’s body covering yours and his mouth on your neck, he aimed his cockhead at your g-spot with shallow drives into your sopping heat. He grazed his teeth over your pulse point, a shiver running through you as he littered an array of faint bruises over the column of your throat. In a couple hours, your skin would become a palette of blues and purples, and San would sheepishly scratch at his neck while you reprimanded him for his messy colouring.

San’s cock stilled inside you, moving only to glide the remainder of his length between your fluttering walls. “Where did you go?” Of course he’d caught you zoning out. “I thought I'd get you all to myself now that you were done with exams,” the pout on his lips pulled at your heart strings.

Your fingers ran through his hair, and you leaned upward to peck at his lips, “you have me, Sannie, I’m all yours.”

San smiled, sliding a hand under you to cup the back of your head, catching your lips in a kiss laced with the thick essence of yearning and lust—as though he couldn’t bare part with you ever again, not even to grab a glass of water. “Mine, mine, mine,” he recited against your lips, moving down to pepper kisses over the bruises painting your skin. “Gonna fuck you so full, sweetheart, ‘make sure everyone knows you’re my sweet baby.”

Your hand reached down to his thigh, grazing the soft skin and trailing upward until your palm cupped his plump ass, urging his hips forward and into your cunt. “Want it, please, want you so bad.”

His lips found yours, parting to run his tongue over your cupid’s bow before planting soft, delicate kisses over the corners of your mouth. Your nails dug into the flesh of his ass, eyes rolling back as he pounded into you with boiling desperation. Utterances of ‘missed you’ vibrated over your skin, your chests flush and nipple grazing over each other every time San bucked into you, his words broken-up by airy moans. Through the thick haze coating your brain, you recognized the tingle in your stomach warning you of your impending orgasm, San’s frantic hands touching every patch of skin available to him, his teeth nibbling on the skin of your collarbones while he fucked into you uncontrollably.

“Gonna cum,” he breathed out, lifting his head to take you in with glassy eyes. “Hngh! ‘Missed you so fucking much,” he pulled you into his chest, only to lean back two second later to admire your fucked-out expression—staring back at him with hooded eyes, pleasure soaring through your body and disrupting every thought, San’s relentless pace as he hammered his cock into your pulsating cunt barreling you closer to the edge. “So perfect,” he pushed the damp hair off your forehead. “Gonna fuck you full, darling, can I? ‘Wanna give you all I have,” he babbled, slurring his words as tears welled up in his eyes, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

“Nghh! G-give it to me, Sannie,” you tightened your legs around him, pushing him further into you and clenched around him.

San’s hips stuttered, his steady rhythm replaced with erratic pounding, his cock filling you up before slipping out, only to thrust back into you without relent. The edging, San’s mouth on your clit, his fingers stuffed inside you, only to pull away every time you came close to an orgasm, and now, his cock pressing into you g-spot while his pelvis grinded over your sensitive nub—you weren’t sure which factor pushed you over the edge, except you found yourself tumbling down a verdant, sunlit hill, wildflowers and dandelions sweeping over your skin in your descent. Your vision blurred, the silhouette of a man brimming with adoration going in and out of focus, the soft melody of moans and echoes of your name reverberating in the back of your mind as your orgasm finally rushed through you, your nerves aflame and body jolting over the soiled sheets.

For what felt like hours, he guided you through your high. Leisurely grinds of his hips, rocking back and forth with his cock sheathed deep within you, even after ropes of white joined the previous load he’d fucked into you, your bodies spasming together as tinges of overstimulation mingled with pleasure. His eyes scanned your face, studying the subtle shifts in your features while his hands roamed your body—from the twitch of your eyebrow to the upward curl of your mouth; palms dipping into the contour of your waist, and curving over the slope of your hips, holding you delicately while you trembled in his arms. He slipped out of you at the first whimper leaving your lips, his muscles slackening as the shots of pleasurable pain subsided.

The mattress jumped, San’s body falling sideways into the space beside you, his arms instantly working on tugging you closer to him, inhaling the flowery scent of your shampoo while digging his fingers into the knots in your back.

San’s soft humming carried on until the sun found its locus in the cloudless sky, the rays sharp where they snuck through the gap in your curtains. You slipped in and out of consciousness, the warm body cradling you and the patterned rise and fall of its chest spreading a veil of tranquility over the quiet room. The peacefulness resided even as San pulled you out of bed and into the shower, washing off the sweat and grime with wandering hands and impish touches, high-pitched giggles and squeals echoing between the tiled walls.

It felt like deja’vu, finding yourself curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, except this time, San’s firm body enveloped yours while you sipped on your coffee, feline eyes moving off the TV every time you brought the mug to your lips, watching their subtle pout as you swallowed down the steaming liquid. His gaze flitted lower, examining the splashes of purple and blue decorating your neck with a fond—and slightly cocky—smile stretching his lips.

You remained entrapped within each other’s warmth, the sunlight shifting hues every other hour, from a burning yellow to a warm orange, mixing with magenta and rose when the orb of light neared the horizon. Characters moved around on the large screen: Mulan, then Rapunzel, and now Ariel, the baritone of San’s voice harmonizing with the various ballads blasting through the speakers, your hearty giggles filling up the room when he slipped away from you to dance along with Sebastian to ‘Under the Sea.’

Securing him back in your arms, you watched the rest of the movie in peace, humming the remaining songs and arguing who would get to be the purple mermaid next time you went swimming, the empty bowls of leftover jjigae resting idly on the coffee table, their ceramic reflecting the changing hues of the dying sun.

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#lowkey freaking out #didn’t expect this to happen 🙈#ty for writing

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maybank5 · 1 month ago

Text

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐤 (𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭)

pairing ⤜ yn x jj

summary ⤜ you and jj have never gotten along; sworn enemies since childhood. so why is then, when he shows up with bruises, you want to burn the entire world down for this boy?

tags and such: abuse, mentions of abuse, fluff, comfort, walks on the beach, mutual crushes, jj calling you 'mama'

a/n ⤜ needing some comfort jj fics in my life right now, and i'm sure i'm not alone in that. enjoy! also this was supposed to just be a little drabble, but she kinda took on a life of her own. not complaining though lol

song inspo ⤜ any kyla la grange song

word count ⤜ 4k+

JJ Maybank - the bane of your existence. Ever since he had trampled your sandcastle on the playground back when you were seven, you couldn't stand him. And one trampled sandcastle had set the stage for ten years of torment at the hands of this boy. He seemed to revel in making your life miserable. He wouldn't be JJ Maybank if he wasn't pulling your hair or teasing you or shoulder-checking you in the hallway. And you wouldn't be you if you didn't put your hands on your hips and glare at him, shouting after him a scolding, "Oh grow up!" that was only ever met with that laugh of his that seemed to bounce of the cinderblock walls of the school halls.

You had come to realize sometime around sophomore year that you and JJ Maybank were destined to be enemies. You found yourself looking forward to the school day, to see just how he'd try to fuck with you, and to scold him and hear that damn laugh. Your friends couldn't understand it; why the two of you always seemed to seek each other out, despite your mutual hatred. "You wouldn't get it," you'd say with a shrug. JJ Maybank was your mortal enemy, but you honestly couldn't imagine your school day, your life, without him in it.

JJ is no stranger to a fight. He's always getting into something with the kooks from Figure Eight. It's not out of the norm for him to show up to school with a busted lip or black eye. He always shrugs it off, brags about how the other guy "looks much worse." You roll your eyes and shake your head. He's never seriously hurt though, so you don't worry too much. It's not like you lose sleep over JJ Maybank. Still, you can't help the relief you feel that shoots through you like a drug whenever he laughs off the bruises or black eyes.

But today is different. Yesterday, JJ wasn't in school. Not that unusual of an occurrence. But today, JJ shows up to school with his face a galaxy of purples and yellows. Your heart sinks to your stomach as if weighted with a lead anchor. This wasn't just the result of a spat between a Pogue and a Kook. He looked like he'd been jumped and you spend the entire morning following him with your eyes. You want to go over and check on him, press your palm to his cheek, and ask what happened, make sure he's okay. But that's not you and JJ. Instead, you hug your books tighter to your chest and follow him down the halls with your gaze. All you want to do is run after him, check on him. It makes no sense. You know he probably just got in another fight. JJ was always stirring up some type of trouble. But he didn't have the usual laugh or smile this time. His eyes looked almost hallow, broken. It made your heart feel heavy in your chest. You could barely focus in class, all your thoughts drifting to JJ Maybank and those haunting bruises. They were like ghosts in your head.

At the end of the day, JJ was swinging his backpack onto his shoulder with a wince, about to hop into his truck with you surprised yourself. Instead of catching a ride with your friend Sarah, you find yourself running across the parking lot to his beat up, rusted old truck.

"JJ!" You call.

His head whips around, brows furrow when he sees you. Then, that lazy smirk spreads painfully across the snagged and scabbed lip, "Y/N," he says in that lazy, bemused kind of way of his, that let's you know you're in for something, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

You want to scold him like you would normally. Instead, you freeze. You don't know what to say that doesn't include some sort of spat or dig. Instead, all you want to do is pull him close to you and hold him in your arms and it makes no damn sense.

"You weren't in school yesterday," you settle for saying.

"Astute observation, Sherlock."

Your stomach flips a little, excitedly like it does before a fight with JJ Maybank; like you were born for these little interactions. Instead, you take a breath and try your best to push through the wall he's putting up. "I just...I wanted to make sure you're okay?"

"When am I ever not okay?" JJ asks, pushing the blonde hair off his forehead with a practiced flick of his hand.

You sigh. He's deflecting. Of course he is. When does JJ Maybank ever take anything seriously. You don't know why it bothers you so much, but you need him to know. You need him to know that you care, that you're in his corner. You'd fight against him a thousand times over, but when he shows up looking like this, all you want to do is fight at his side and burn down the world for him. You know it doesn't make sense, but when did anything regarding JJ Maybank make sense.

You decide to meet him where he's put you. "Just seen you prettier, that's all," you say with a shrug. If he wants to deflect and be snarky, you can do that too. If snark is his comfort zone, you can meet him there.

JJ tugs the corner of his bottom lip between those feline-like teeth of his. He's amused, and it makes you happy to know you made him smile. Or rather, JJ's version of a smile.

"You worried about me, darlin'?" He drawls.

"If someone roughs you up too badly, who do I have to fight with?" You ask, and JJ laughs. Your stomach dips with the weight of the butterflies that have filled it.

JJ pushing his hair back again, smirk still playing on his lip, "Don't worry, darlin', nothin' can stop me from fighting with you. It's my favorite part of my day."

You cross your arms, fighting the smile on your face as you shake your head. "You're impossible," you say.

"And you love it," he says. You don't realize right away that you don't deny it.

"So...need a ride?" He asks, glancing behind you as Sarah's car pulls from the parking lot. "Cause it looks like yours just left."

Sarah. She's always trying to get you two alone. For some reason, she has it in her head that all your fighting is just camouflaging your "real feelings." You think Sarah needs to stop reading so many fanfics in her free time.

"Of course," you sigh, "Remind me to give Sarah Cameron an earful when I get home."

JJ just chuckles and unlocks the truck, tossing his backpack in the backseat. "Get in," he says. You don't argue.

You toss your bag in the back next to his before joining him in the front seat. Sitting together on his bench seats of his old truck feels almost intimate. This is the closest you've ever been to JJ before, and it's happening when you're alone. Both your brain and stomach feel as if they're on rollercoasters.

JJ backs the truck out of the school parking lot. "So, where to, Y/L/N?"

You tell him your street and he nods. He rolls down his window and with practiced ease, takes out and lights a cigarette one handed. You try not to wrinkle your nose. This is his truck and he's being kind enough to give you a ride. You aren't going to be a pain about a little cigarette smoke.

JJ begins to drum his fingers on the wheel, his right knee is bouncing jitterijngly. The cigarette between his fingers is doing nothing to calm his nerves, and you fight the urge to rest your hand on his knee.

"So," you say after a beat, "You gonna tell me about the sick fight you got in that led to....that," you wave a hand in his general direction.

JJ takes a drag of the cigarette, the air in the truck suddenly feeling thicker. "Not much too tell. Mouthed off, the usual."

You nod, "We both know that mouth of yours is gonna get you in some type of trouble one day."

JJ smirks, but it doesn't quite reach his eye, "Yeah," another drag of the cigarette, "But fuck, I wish hadn't been so drunk out of his mind to forget he was wearing that damn class ring."

You freeze. "What?"

"Dad," another drag, "That's who I've got to thank for these sick bruises. Dear ol' Dad."

"JJ..."

"It's fine," he quick to say, quick to shrug, "I've got it under control. It's usually not this bad. But last night he was completely hammered and I should have known not to..."

"No, JJ," you're quick to say, "Nothing you did is an excuse for this. Whatever you did, you didn't deserve this. This is on him, not on you."

JJ sighs, tightens his hand on the wheel, "Whatever," he says, another shrug, a slight sniffle, "It's just a few more months, then I'm eighteen and I'm out. It's fine, really Y/N. I've got it under control. And usually when he gets like that, I can hide out at John B's place, lay low a bit."

"JJ, you shouldn't have to..."

"It is what it is," JJ says, another shrug, "It's just the roll of the dice. The hand I've been dealt. I learned a long time ago it does nobody any good to run around feeling sorry for yourself."

"Does anyone know?" You ask, you feel like your stepping out onto a frozen lake, unsure of the weight of the ice.

"John B, his dad. They do what they can. No one blinks twice at a kid from The Cut with a few bruises. I've got a home, I'm fed. That's more than most of the kids from the broken homes 'round here. Besides, if anyone did come sniffin' around and decide to take me away, you know what that means, Y/N? That means being taken to the mainland, to a group home that'd probably be worse than where I am now. And I won't have John B or Big John or the surf to keep me sane. So I lay low, try to stay out of his way. It's fine, Y/N. I'm fine."

Your hand hovers slightly before you press above JJ's knee, right where the khaki cargo shorts cut off. His skin is soft, tanned. You half expect him to jerk away, to smack your hand away. Instead, he tenses under your touch, his eyes draw to you. You give him a soft smile.

"It's okay not to be fine, JJ. You don't have to be fine all the time, and you certainly don't have to be fine around me. It sucks, and I'm so sorry this is what you go through. You've never minced words with me before, so don't start now. It fucking sucks. But you aren't alone, okay? I'm here for you too."

"Mind if we make a pit stop first?" JJ asks.

You shrug, "I've got nowhere else to be."

You're sure Sarah is probably glued to her phone wanting every detail. You can make her stew a little bit.

JJ pulls the truck over at the drive-in burger place, Storm's. He orders two strawberry milkshakes.

"If you don't like strawberry milkshakes, then I'm kicking you out of this truck right now," he says, paying the carhop the $5.50 and handing you your Styrofoam cup.

"If you don't like strawberry milkshakes, I might never speak to you again," you say.

"Damn it," he snaps his fingers with a grin, "Nearly had an out."

You give his shoulder a shove and JJ laughs. It feels good to hear him laugh, to be the cause of it. You want to make him laugh over and over again.

JJ takes the truck out towards the beach. You sit in silence as you watch the waves, sipping your milkshakes. Silence has always made you feel awkward, on edge. This silence between you feels almost comfortable. Like neither of you have to say anything, and that's okay.

Still, you can't help but ask, "You have somewhere to go tonight?"

"Been staying at John B's," JJ says, "Dad'll cool off in a few days. Sober up. He's predictable like that. Hell," JJ laughs humorlessly, "I'll bet this weekend he'll pull up with an ice chest of beer and cans of tuna and have a whole weekend out on the boat planned just the two of us. That's as close to an apology as Luke Maybank can muster."

"JJ..."

"It's fine, Y/N. Like I said, I've got it under control. A few more months and then I'm out. I've even got money saved. John B and I are gonna rent a place close to the water. It'll be sick."

"Sounds nice," you say. "This is nice," you wave your milkshake out towards the sea just ahead, "I don't come to the beach enough."

"You don't? How do you survive?"

You can't help but laugh at how genuinely concerned he sounds. "Not everyone needs the salt water to survive, Jage," you say, "I guess I just never grew up with it. My parents are definitely more inside people. And sure we go to the beach sometimes. But I guess I just don't go out of my way to come here."

"That's just sad, Y/N. One of these days, I'm gonna have to teach you to surf." The comment seems to take the both of you by surprise. "Uh..." JJ's hand goes immediately to the back of his neck.

"I'd like that," you're quick to say, and it seems to relax him just a bit.

"Really?" That lazy grin is back.

"Mmhmm," you nod, "No one's ever gone out of their way to teach me anything like that before. And even I know you're one of the best surfers on the island."

JJ beams with pride, sits up a little straighter, "Damn straight." He takes another slurp of his milkshake, then lifts his chin towards the water, "C'mon," he says.

"Where are we going?" You ask as he's already bailing out of the truck.

"Just c'mon," he says.

You can't help but laugh, leaving your milkshake behind. JJ takes your hand in his and pulls you towards the beach. The wind is kicking up as evening approaches, and you walk along the sand, breathing in the brine of the salt water. JJ's still holding your hand in his, and you can't help but think it belongs there, in his.

"This right here," he says, "is why I stay where I am. I can't imagine being away from the ocean, the surf. John B says I have saltwater for blood and maybe he's right. But this right here, Y/N, is my favorite place in the world. It's paradise. Everything else, all the bullshit, it's worth it to be here. There's no where else I'd rather be."

"It is beautiful," you say, "I definitely need to come out to the water more."

"I'll bring you."

"You better."

JJ smiles, tightens his hand around yours.

The two of you walk along the beach, enjoying the sounds of the waves splashing, the gulls cawlling from above. Some little kids are building sandcastles as you walk past.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" You ask, "I was building a sandcastle in the sand box on the playground and you trampled right over it."

"That was not the first time we met."

"Yes it was."

"Oh no it wasn't. C'mon, Y/N, do you really not remember?"

"I remember you trampling my sandcastle is what I remember."

JJ shakes his head, "We met before that. Nursery school. About two years before then."

"What?" Your brows furrow as you try to think back that far.

"It was your first day and you were crying and clutching that stupid teddy bear of yours. You didn't want your mom to leave you. You sat off by yourself crying all morning. I went over and shared my Goldfish with you cause I felt bad."

"Oh my God..."

"Yeah," JJ runs a hand through his hair, watching the sand kick beneath his feat, "And then that day on the playground, I was so excited to see you again that I ran over and...accidentally stomped on your sandcastle. But by then you were so livid that I'd ruined it and started yelling at me, and well...I've always been kind of a shit about things and so I started kicking it worse, just to get a rise out of you. I'd have done the same thing to John B. But seeing you get all...squawk like that."

"I do not squawk."

"Oh you absolutely squawk," JJ laughs, "And thus began our beautiful rivalry as we know it."

"You're a pain," you say, but you can't help the smile on your face.

"You love it though."

"Do not."

"Do too!" JJ gives you a gentle shove with his shoulder, "You absolutely start half the shit that's happened between us. You go out of your way to track me down and yell at me for something."

"I do not do that!"

"You absolutely do that. And you drag poor Sarah long with you and she stands there and tries not to laugh as we go at it. If I didn't know better, Y/N, I'd say you actually enjoyed our fights."

"That's not true! You are such a menace! You get on my last never all the time and..."

"Uh-huh," JJ's smirk deepens, the dimple forms in his cheek, "Keep tellin' yourself that, Mama."

The term of endearment makes your stomach tighten. You can feel your cheeks heat, and it's not from the sun.

"Don't call me that," you say.

"Why not?" JJ asks.

"Because," you can't think of a single valid reason. "That nickname is for a significant other," you finally say.

"True," JJ nods, "And that's definitely not you, right?"

"Absolutely not," you say, your hand gives his an involuntary squeeze, "In your dreams, Maybank."

"What do you know about my dreams, Y/L/N?"

You give him a shove, and JJ laughs.

"I like that," you say before you can stop yourself.

"Like what?" JJ asks.

"Your laugh."

You swear his cheeks go a shade of pink when you say it.

"No one likes my laugh," he says.

"That's not true. John B likes your laugh, I see the two of you. He's always trying to go out of his way to make you laugh. And I like it too."

JJ blushes deeper, "You can't just go runnin' around sayin' shit like that," he says.

"And why not?"

JJ just sighs, lifts his eyes to the sky like he's saying a silent prayer and shakes his head, "You just can't, darlin'."

The two of you walk a little further, to one of the rocky hills. JJ still holds your hand as the two of you climb up to sit on the top. He pulls his knees to his chin, wrapping his arms around his legs. "Love coming here," he says, "Best place to sit and clear your head when the noise of everything else gets too loud."

"It really is beautiful," you say, "Thank you for bringing me."

"Haven't had a chance to come out here since the other night," JJ says, picks up a rock and turns it in his hand. "Went straight to John B's after."

You finally reach a hand out, cup his cheek in your palm, "I'm so sorry, JJ," you say, wishing your gentle touch could somehow erase the pain from his flesh. You realize in this moment that JJ Maybank should only ever feel gentleness and softness. It breaks your heart to think he's felt anything else.

"Nothin' to be sorry for," he says, overlapping your hand with his, "But thank you, Y/N."

"Make you a deal," you say.

"What's that?" JJ asks.

"Any time things feel like a lot, you can come find me and bring me out here. I need a surf instructor after all. Any time you need to clear your head and need an excuse, I'm here."

JJ smiles, nuzzles his cheek into your hand, "Thanks, Y/N." He takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the back of your knuckles, "Can I tell you a secret?" He asks.

"Sure."

"I think that's why I pick fights with you like I do. Fighting with you...it's fun. And it pulls me out of my head. Distracts me."

You can't explain it, but his words make your stomach dip. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," JJ blushes again, ducks his head, "I just...it's fun. Isn't it?"

"It is," you admit, "I like fighting with you."

"But after all these years...." he sighs, "...sometimes I can't help but wonder..."

"Wonder?"

"If there might be something better...better than fighting."

The butterflies are back and you tilt your head to meet his eye, "Like?"

"You're my distraction, Y/N. Every bit as much as the waves are. You keep me grounded. It sounds stupid....but the reason I even still come to school at all is because I look forward to fightin' with you. I'm just sayin'....what if there was something more than fightin'."

"Can I tell you a secret?" You ask. JJ nods. "Sarah gives me so much shit for it, but fighting with you is one of my favorite parts of the day. I do look for you and go out of my way to yell at you for something. It's...it's fun, getting under each other's skin. I can't imagine you not being the fixture you've become in my life, JJ Maybank. I don't think I want to."

JJ takes a breath, the blush is back on his cheeks. You give his hand a squeeze.

"What would you want with a guy like me?" He asks and your heart clenches in your chest.

You let go of his hand and turn to face him, sitting up on your knees. "JJ Maybank," you say, gently scolding, "Don't you even think that. Not for a second."

"Look at me though," he says with a broken sigh, "I'm fucked up, Y/N. Just look at my face..."

You interrupt with a press of your lips to his cheek. JJ freezes, you hear the softest little gasp escape. You press another kiss to another bruise, and another. The bruise on his cheekbones, the cut above his eyebrow, the purple blooming along his eyesocket. JJ is almost shaking as you press a final kiss to the cut on his swollen lip.

"Jesus, Mama..." he says, and it sounds like a prayer.

"That a better distraction than fighting?" You ask with a smirk of your own.

"Fuck yes," his voice is thick and wrecked as you sit back, card your hand through the blonde bangs sticking to his forehead.

"I think so too," you say. "What do you say we retire our title of mortal enemies, hmm?"

"Yes please."

You can't help but giggle at the desperation in his voice, "What other title should we give each other then?" You ask.

JJ rolls his eyes, the smile on his face big enough to split him in two, "You're really gonna make me say it?"

"Mmhmm."

JJ shakes his head helplessly, "Alright, fine. You win. Girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend," you say back.

JJ ducks his head to hide the blush staining his cheeks. His smile has somehow grown even bigger. Then, as if finally getting a handle on himself, he reaches up and pulls you towards him, hand at the nape of your neck.

"You know what this means, right?" He asks, lips hovering above yours.

"Tell me."

"I get to kiss you any time I like."

"Well you god-damn better," you can't help but grin.

JJ chuckles lowly, before capturing your lip in his. The kiss is unlike any other kiss you've ever experienced; those sweet, shy kisses on doorsteps after dates to dances and diners. This is different. There's a desperation there, a hunger, and a hope all in one. JJ nips at your lip as the two of you pull apart.

"Fuck," he says on a sigh.

"Better than fighting?" You ask again.

"So much better."

You press another kiss to his cheek, "I wish I could kiss away every bit of pain, JJ."

"This?" JJ points to the bruise on his cheek, "Aint nothin'. I'd walk through fire and back for one kiss from you."

"I'd never ask you to," you say, cupping his cheek in your palm again. "You know what this means, right?"

"What's that, Mama?"

"I get to kiss you any time I like. No walking through fire required."

"You're letting me call you Mama," JJ says, reaching a hand out to twist a strand of your hair around his finger.

"Boyfriend privileges and all that," you say.

"I like the sound of that," JJ grins, "Tell me, darlin'. What other privileges do these new titles come with?"

You shake your head with a laugh, "You'll just have to see."

The sun is starting to set and JJ sighs, "Guess I better be gettin' you home."

"Pry should."

"And Big John is grilling out for us tonight, so I should get back for that."

"You gonna be okay?" You ask.

"Of course," he says, "I'm JJ Maybank. When am I ever not okay?"

You sigh and shake your head as he holds out his hand and helps you to your feet. "Besides," he says as the two of you start the walk to the car, "I get to look forward to seeing my girl tomorrow."

You can't help but blush. JJ holds the truck door open for you and you slide in. He goes around to the drivers side and hops in, turning the key in the ignition.

"Do girlfriends get AUX privileges?" You ask, reaching for the cable hanging down by your feet.

"Fuck no," JJ laughs, snatching it away, "I've heard the shit you and Sarah blast from her convertible. Girlfriend or not, Taylor Swift is not touchin' these speakers."

"But...girlfriend privileges."

"Girlfriend privileges nothin'," JJ grins, backing the truck out, "Girlfriend privileges mean I'm pressin' you up against this truck and kissin' you breathless before I tell you goodnight. It does not mean blasting Taylor Swift in ol' Daisy Mae."

"You named your truck Daisy Mae?"

"What?"

"That's more egregious than any music I could play from my phone."

"Don't you be talkin' shit about Daisey Mae, okay?"

"Stupid ass name," you say with a smile.

JJ lifts his middle finger at you with a smile equally as big.

"Alright," you say, "question."

"What's that?"

"Just because we've retired the title of mortal enemies doesn't mean we still can't fight, right?"

"Not the fun fights anyway," JJ grins, "Those fights I can always just shut you up by kissin' you."

"Menace."

"Always."

You shake your head, laughing and lean your head against his shoulder.

"Oh I am in so much trouble," he says, handing you the AUX cord, "You've already got me wrapped around your finger. You always have."

You press another kiss to his cheek, taking his hand in yours. You pull up These Arms of Mine by Otis Redding.

"And you've got me wrapped around yours," you say.

JJ grins, lifting your hand to kiss your knuckles. The two of you drive the rest of the way to your house in silence, your head on his shoulder and Otis' voice crooning from the crackling stereo. JJ Maybank was officially now no longer the bane of your existence, and maybe Sarah Cameron hadn't been that off-base after all. All you knew in this moment though was you'd spent the last ten years being driven crazy by JJ Maybank, and you'd gladly be driven crazy by him the next ten.

#jj maybank #obx fic #obx imagine #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x yn #jj maybank x you #outer banks fic #obx #this is lowkey the sexiest thing i've written on here and im freaking out lol #my old fics from like 6 years ago are laughing at me right now lol

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