#no x ray because I'm a virgin | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoseoksluna · 9 months ago

Text

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for.

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift.

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too.

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed.

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight.

You couldn’t.

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair.

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words.

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely.

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis.

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed.

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.”

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it.

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.”

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable.

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?”

You exhaled, he inhaled.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek.

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in.

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.”

Your body panics, but you will it to relax.

“Does that come with the premium subscription?”

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps.

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms.

“I get to take Bam?”

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?”

Probably not. Definitely not.

“But what about Bam?”

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words.

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.”

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell.

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it.

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.”

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly.

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows.

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead.

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it.

Jungkook groans.

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity.

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back.

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body.

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers.

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline.

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it.

You want him.

It began with a ring and ended right here.

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled.

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss.

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t.

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago.

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you.

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper.

Jungkook grips your waist hard.

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy.

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples.

“Kiss me, then.”

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth.

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step.

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.”

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles.

“Bam, house.”

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that.

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him.

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.”

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him.

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists.

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.”

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?”

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them.

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list.

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course.

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.”

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.”

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting.

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?”

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact.

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?”

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties.

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.”

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.”

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.”

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself.

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him.

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears.

No attachment, no liking.

Just sex.

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm.

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted.

You broke him.

And now you have to face the repercussions.

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal.

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all.

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.”

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have.

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it.

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break.

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in.

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm.

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is.

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid.

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening.

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning.

A lump forms in your throat.

“You sure about this?” he asks.

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship.

Flowery or deceitful?

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.”

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you.

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps.

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.”

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.”

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened.

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum.

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him.

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun.

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin.

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing.

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself.

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long.

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?”

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice.

“Of course I trust you.”

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.”

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline.

“Are you scared?”

You’re an empty canvas.

“Not anymore.”

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?”

“Okay.”

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?”

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.”

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt.

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set.

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy.

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks.

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.”

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie.

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?”

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod.

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child.

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs.

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red.

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them.

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach.

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?”

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.”

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?”

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy.

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features.

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good.

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.”

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens.

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs.

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you.

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear. “How do you touch yourself?”

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat.

Jungkook sees you.

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer.

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind.

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax.

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side.

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise.

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips.

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you.

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.”

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you.

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around.

“Feels good, baby?”

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.”

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.”

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring.

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?”

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted.

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff.

“Did so well for me.”

The whisper takes you back and you awake.

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good.

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?”

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change.

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.”

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth.

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy.

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks.

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration.

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.”

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is.

Musk, vanilla, wood.

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout.

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew.

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.”

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?”

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do.

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos.

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts.

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully.

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?”

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.”

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number.

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?”

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.”

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare.

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him.

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?”

You nod. “So bad.”

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough.

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?”

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.”

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?”

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.”

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance.

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth.

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him.

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again.

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go.

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge.

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore.

Neither, evidently, can he.

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands.

So vulnerable.

You ache.

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head.

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth.

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets.

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny.

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head.

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.”

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan.

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind.

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin.

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?”

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it.

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans.

“Talk to me.”

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk.

He stares you down.

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling.

“I won’t play with you, then.”

Panic. “No.”

He cocks a brow at you. “No?”

Silence.

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm.

“Jungkook.”

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs.

“Beg.”

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you.

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You groan in frustration.

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.”

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it.

“Where?”

A challenge. Your throat dries up.

“There.”

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that.

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.”

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone.

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that.

“Lick my clit, please.”

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.

“Like this?”

You choke out a moan.

“Yes, please.”

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?”

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy.

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.”

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you.

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens.

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you.

Daddy and little girl.

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls.

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror.

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat.

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.”

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell.

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?”

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin.

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens.

“But what if it doesn’t fit?”

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake.

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.”

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected.

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him.

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow.

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head.

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him.

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.”

You nod, trusting him.

He pecks you. Smiles.

“How many orgasms are we at?”

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?”

“You obliterated my expectations.”

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.”

You blush, eyes twinkling.

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.”

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad.

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness.

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss.

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel.

“I don’t stop coming.”

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?”

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?”

You scoff. “Just one.”

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?”

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently.

He didn’t break his promise.

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides.

And there you feel it.

The sensation unlike any other.

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?”

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms.

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.”

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come.

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you.

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?”

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep.

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much.

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.”

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam.

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.”

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.”

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak.

“Please, come for me.”

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?”

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.”

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat.

Jungkook grunts.

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.”

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length.

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all.

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way.

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all.

“Good girl. Good little princess.”

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?”

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes.

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

4K notes · View notes

joelmillerisapunk · 8 months ago

Text

Divide my legs like a mathematician

Dbf!Joel x virgin!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 4K

Summary: you find yourself drawn to Joel's confidence and charm, unable to resist the forbidden fruit. After sharing an intimate moment by the pool, you're left feeling both guilty and exhilarated, eager for more.

Warnings: 18+, virginity loss, reader has first kiss, age gap (reader is early 20's and Joel is however old you need him to be.) Reader has hair and breasts, and wears a bikini, unprotected p in v, m&f oral receiving, fingering, Joel comes twice. Joel, being a typical middle-aged man, saying "you know.."

Notes: please do not read if this kind of dynamic or situation is offputting or something you do not like or enjoy or object to. Please be responsible for yourself and your fic reading. Love you bye 💝 and don't ask about the title unless you wanna hear and see something weird 😂

The sun beats down relentlessly, its fiery rays reflecting off the shimmering surface of the pool. You've sought refuge by its side, lying on a vibrant, floral towel, your swimsuit clinging to your skin. Your eyes flutter closed, and you breathe in the scent of chlorine and sunscreen, letting the warmth of the day lull you into a state of peaceful relaxation.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a shadow eclipsing the sun. You squint up, the brightness giving way to the familiar face of Joel Miller, your dad's old buddy. The one you haven't seen in a few years.

His salt-and-pepper hair, flecked with silver, is styled in a casual yet purposeful way. His muscular build is evident through his t-shirt and swim trunks. Joel's eyes, a stunning shade of chocolate brown, crinkle at the corners as he turns his attention to you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, well, who do we have here?" he asks, his gaze sweeping over your body in a way that makes you feel a bit nervous.

You shield your eyes from the sun with your hand before you reply, "Hey Joel, my dad's not here. He had to run some errands."

Joel chuckles, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, good thing you're here to keep me company while I wait for him.”

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the heat that rises to your face. "I'm not here to entertain you," you say, trying to sound stern.

Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know you've sure grown up since I last saw ya, more beautiful than ever."

You can't help but feel a little flattered by his words, even if you try to hide it. You've always had a bit of a crush on Joel, but you know that he's off-limits, the forbidden fruit. He's your dad's friend, and he's much older than you. You've never even had a boyfriend, but there's something about him that you find irresistible. Maybe it's his confidence, or his sense of humor, or the way he makes you feel when he looks at you. Whatever it is, you can't help but be drawn to him.

You try to play it cool. "Oh, please, you're just saying that because you feel awkward being alone with me and you're trying to be nice."

"Maybe, maybe not," he admits. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're beautiful."

You feel your heart flutter at the way the word rolls off his tongue, but you try to hide your reaction. "Prove it," you say, challenging him.

Joel raises an eyebrow, chuckling. "Prove it?" he repeats. "How do you propose I do that?"

You shrug, trying to act nonchalant. "I dunno, race me to the other side of the pool, maybe?"

Joel's laughter rings out, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief as he accepts the challenge. "You're on.” With a swift and fluid motion, he peels off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and arms. The garment lands carelessly on a nearby chair, but you barely notice as your gaze follows the contours of his physique. You notice how broad he is and how beautiful in return you think he is.

Joel dives into the pool, cutting through the water with surprising grace and agility. The splash startles you, breaking your reverie, and you take a deep breath diving into the pool swimming as fast as you can towards the other side of the pool.

The cool water feels refreshing against your skin, but you're determined to win the race. You swim with all your might, your legs kicking furiously behind you. But despite your best efforts, Joel reaches the other side just before you do.

You come up for air, panting slightly, and Joel grins at you. "I win."

You stick your tongue out at him. "Fine, you win," you concede. "But that doesn't mean you're right about me being beautiful."

Joel's expression softens, and he looks at you with a seriousness that takes you by surprise. "You know darlin, I'm not just sayin' it to flatter you," he says as he gets out of the pool and then helps you out. "I've always thought you were beautiful. But now, you're all grown up, and I can't help but notice the way you move, the way you challenge me, it's all so - intoxicating."

His words make you feel self-conscious, but also excited. You've never had anyone talk to you like this before, and it's both scary and thrilling.

Joel notices your reaction and takes a step closer to you. "I know this is unexpected, and maybe even a little inappropriate," he says. "But, I can't help the way I feel. And I think you feel it too, don'tcha darlin?”

"I-I don't know," you stammer.

Joel's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face. "It's okay, take your time. I'm not goin’ anywhere." You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You've never felt this way before, and you're not sure what to do. "It's okay," he repeats. "I know it’s a lot to take in.” Joel moves so his body mere inches away from yours. "You ever done anythin' before, you got a boyfriend?”

You pause, feeling the air get tense. You can't believe how abrupt he is to just ask like this. You shake your head, feeling a bit ashamed you've never even kissed a boy before, let alone have a boyfriend.

Joel can see the uncertainty in your eyes, but he also sees curiosity and desire. He takes a deep breath, and his eyes never leave yours. "You know, I can teach you how to please a man, how to be pleasured. I wanna make sure that when you do decide to be with someone, you're not so inexperienced."

Your eyes flitter around, never fully meeting Joel's gaze. "I dunno I've never done anything like this before," you admit.

Joel's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand. "I know babygirl," he says. "And I'm not going to push you into anything. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, if you want me to be."

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You know that what Joel is suggesting is wrong, but you can't help feeling like a snake, trying to convince yourself to take a bite of the juiciest looking apple you’ve ever seen. He's always been so helpful, and now that he's offering to show you the ways of intimacy, you can't help but be tempted. You really don't want to be so inexperienced when it's your real first time. "I want you to teach me Joel," you whisper.

Joel's face lights up, "I promise to make this a learning experience for you, somethin’ you'll never forget."

He takes your hand and leads you to a secluded spot by the pool, sits down on the grass, and pulls you down next to him. "First things first, let's start with the basics. You ever touch yourself?"

You shake your head, feeling yourself fill with embarrassment.

"S'okay," he says. "This is all new to you. Just do what I do, okay?"

He takes your hand and guides it to your bottoms, helping you to slip your fingers under the fabric. You can feel the heat radiating from your core, and you gasp as Joel's and your fingers brush against your clit.

"Just relax," he says, his voice soothing. "S’all about pleasure."

As you continue to touch yourself, you can feel something building inside of you. It's a strange, unfamiliar sensation, but it's also incredibly pleasurable. You moan softly as Joel continues to guide your hand, his lips close to your ear.

"That's it," he murmurs, his lips close to your ear. "Just relax and enjoy the sensation." You can feel the heat radiating from your core, and you can feel your body tensing as you get closer and closer to your first orgasm. Joel can sense this too, and he places a hand on your belly, feeling each jolt and tremor as it passes through you.

"Just let go, baby," he whispers. "I've got you. You're safe."

But suddenly, you pull your hand away, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"I can't," you say, your voice shaking. "It feels too weird."

Joel can see the look of fear and uncertainty in your eyes, and he pulls you against his chest.

"Yes, you can, I promise," he says, his voice soothing and reassuring. "Just let yourself feel the pleasure. Let me help you, baby. Tell me what you're feeling, baby," he says, his voice gentle and coaxing. "What does it feel like when I touch you like this?" He starts rubbing circles on your clit again.

You take a deep breath, trying to put your feelings into words. "It feels...good," you say, your voice hesitant. "But it's also scary. I've never done this before."

"I know, baby," Joel coos. "But there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm here with you, and I'll never let anything bad happen to you."

Joel can see that you need a different approach, something that will help you to relax and let go of your inhibitions.

He pulls away from you, his eyes meeting yours. "Let's try something a little different," he says with a gentle voice. Before you can protest, Joel is moving down your body, his lips pressing gentle kisses against your skin. When he reaches your thighs he gently guides them further apart, leaving kisses all the way until he reaches your swimsuit bottoms, he pulls them to the side, exposing your clit. You gasp as you feel his tongue flick against your clit, the sensation almost too much to bear.

"Just relax," Joel murmurs, his voice soothing. "Let me show you how good this can feel."

He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers slipping inside of you to stroke your G-spot. You can feel pleasure building inside of you, more intense than anything you've ever felt before.

"Yes, just like that," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let go, babygirl. Let yourself feel it."

And suddenly, you do. The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, so intense that you can barely breathe. You cry out whatever vowels and constants your brain can, and your body shakes with the force of it. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers continuing to work their magic. Another orgasm builds inside of you, even more intense than the first. You can feel yourself on the edge, your body trembling with pleasure.

"Come on, babygirl, come again, such a good girl."

And you do. This orgasm tears through you like a lightning bolt, so intense that you see stars behind your closed eyes.

Finally, the orgasm subsides, and you collapse back onto the grass, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Joel moves beside you, his arms wrapped around you as he holds you close to his body.

"How do you feel?" he murmurs, his lips close to your ear.

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I feel...amazing," you say, quietly.

Joel smiles, his eyes meeting yours. "I'm glad," he says. "That's exactly how I wanted you to feel." Joel's expression is gentle as he looks at you, gauging your reaction. He then reaches down and slowly starts to undo the drawstring of his swim trunks. "You ever seen a cock before?"

You shake your head, feeling a mix of curiosity and nervousness. Joel seems to sense your apprehension, and he takes his time as he pulls down his swim trunks, revealing his erect length. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight before you, the way the sunlight dances off his smooth, taut skin, the way the veins protrude just slightly, creating a roadmap. Your gaze drifts down to the base, where the same salt and peppered hair that graces his head dusts his pelvis. Joel gives you a moment to take it all in before speaking again, his voice barely above a whisper, "Do you wanna touch it?" The question hangs in the air.

You nod, feeling a surge of excitement and curiosity. Joel's hand finds yours, guiding it towards his stiffening cock. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. As you wrap your fingers around his shaft, you marvel at the weight and firmness of it in your hand.

"Mmm, that feels so good," Joel moans, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxes into your touch.

Encouraged by his reaction, you begin to explore his cock more fully. You stroke your hand up and down its length, feeling it twitch and throb beneath your fingertips. Joel helps guide your movements, his hand covering yours as he shows you the rhythm he likes best.

"Tighten your grip a little... yeah, just like that," he murmurs, his breath hitching as you increase the pressure. Joel's moans become louder and more frequent, and you can feel him grow even harder in your hand. It takes no time at all for Joel to reach his peak.

"Fuck baby, I'm gonna come," Joel gasps, his hips thrusting forward.

You pull your hand away, unsure of what to do. Joel opens his eyes and looks at you. You look like a deer in headlights, and the sight almost makes him come without help. "It's okay, baby," he says with a gentle voice. "You don't have to do anything. Just wanted to give you an idea of what it feels like, what it looks like, what it tastes like," he says softly, "But, if you're curious, I can show you how to pleasure a man with your mouth."

You nod, your curiosity getting the better of you. "I want to, I wanna learn."

Joel smiles, his eyes softening. "Okay, just remember to take it slow. There's no rush."

Joel takes your hand and guides it down to his cock, which is already rock-hard and pulsing with desire. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and you're eager to explore him further. With a gentle nudge, he encourages you to take him into your mouth.

At first, you're hesitant. You've never done this before, and you're not sure what to do. But Joel is patient and kind, gently stroking your hair and murmuring words of encouragement.

"That's it, baby," he whispers. "Just relax and take your time. Mmm, yeah, just like that."

Emboldened by his words, you begin to explore him more fully. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. Joel lets out a low moan of pleasure, and you can feel his hips bucking up towards you.

Encouraged you take him deeper into your mouth. You suck harder, your cheeks hollowing out as you work him over. Joel's moans grow louder and more frequent. Suddenly, he grabs a handful of your hair, guiding your head up and down in a steady rhythm.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna come," he gasps, his voice tight with pleasure.

You pull back, letting his cock slip out of your mouth with a wet pop. Joel opens his eyes and looks at you, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Keep goin’ like you were, just swallow if you can, it's natural."

Joel's eyes flutter closed as he helps guide your head back down to his cock, savoring the feeling of him growing hard in your mouth once more. You wrap your lips around him, taking him in slowly, and begin to move your head in a gentle rhythm. Joel's breathing grows heavy as he lets out a low moan, his fingers finding their way into your hair.

You can feel him tensing up, and then, with a shudder, he comes, filling your mouth with warmth. The taste is strange and unfamiliar, but you swallow, determined to please him. You pull your mouth away from him quickly, probably a little too quickly. "Joel," you say, your voice hesitant as you look over at him, catching his breath. "Can we... do it?"

Joel looks at you, his expression serious. "Do what, babygirl?" he asks, puffing out a response through caught breathes even though he knows what you're asking.

"You know...have sex," you whisper.

Joel's eyes widen, and he looks at you with a mix of surprise and desire. "Baby, I just came," he says, his voice gentle. "Let me catch my breath for a bit, and then we can figure somethin' out."

Joel's eyes meet yours, and he can see the slight hint of disappointment in them. But he understands, and he takes your face gently in his hands, leaning in close so that his mouth is almost touching yours. "Don't worry, babygirl," he says, his voice soft and soothing. "I'll make it worth your while." You can feel your heart flutter at his words, and you can't help but smile. Joel's breathing begins to return to normal, and he pulls back slightly, looking at you with a serious expression. "I think I have a couple of ideas," he says. "But, it's gonna take some effort on both our parts."

You nod, eager to please him and experience more of the pleasure he's shown you.

Joel takes a deep breath, looking at you with a serious expression. "I want you to take your top off."

You look at him in surprise, your hands instinctively going to cover your chest. "What? Why?" You ask, your voice hesitant.

Joel reaches out to take your hands in his, his eyes meeting yours. "Because it's a natural part of a woman's body, and it's one of the things that turns me on the most," he explains. "And I want to be able to pleasure you fully, without any barriers between us."

You bite your lower lip, you've never been naked in front of anyone before, and the thought of doing so with Joel is both terrifying and thrilling. But you trust him, and you want to please him. Taking a deep breath, you nod your head, signaling your agreement. Joel's eyes softened as he smiled, his hands moving to gently guide you onto his lap. You feel a flutter in your stomach as you straddle him, your thighs brushing against his. His fingers deftly undo the knot that holds your bikini top in place, and the fabric falls away, leaving your breasts exposed to the warm summer air. You feel a shiver run down your spine, your nipples hardening in response to the exposure.

Joel's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of your bare chest, his breath hitching in his throat.

"Mmm, so perfect baby.” Before you can respond, Joel leans in, his mouth capturing one of your nipples. You gasp at the sensation, your hands instinctively going to his hair as he sucks and licks at your breast. Joel's hands come up to cup your other breast, his fingers teasing your nipple. You had never felt anything like this before, the sensation of his mouth on your breast, his hands caressing your body. It's intoxicating.

Joel's hands start to wander down your body, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. He reaches your bikini bottoms, and you can feel him tugging at the fabric. "Lift up for me, baby,"

You do as he asks, lifting your hips off the ground as he pulls your bikini bottoms down your legs. You're completely naked now, exposed to Joel's gaze, but instead of feeling embarrassed, you feel a thrill run through your body. Joel's eyes are dark with desire as he takes in the sight of your bare body.

"Fuck, babygirl, you are so damn delicious," his hands reach out to touch you. He runs his fingers along your inner thighs, teasing you. "Spread your legs for me, baby, nice and wide," he says, his voice low and commanding.

You comply, spreading your legs apart.

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "You have no idea how fucking sexy you are, do you? I've been dreaming about this for years, imagining what it would be like to touch you, to taste you."

You gasp as Joel's hand slips between your legs, his fingers finding your clit. "You're so wet," he growls, his fingers circling your clit in slow, deliberate movements. "I can feel how much you want me, how much you need me. You think you're ready, baby?"

You nod, feeling a surge of excitement and nervousness. Joel moves between your legs, his body hovering over yours. He looks into your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt or hesitation.

"If you want to stop at any time, just tell me," he says. "I won't be upset."

You nod and shyly say, “I'm ready.”

Joel positions himself at your entrance, his tip pressing gently against your opening. He looks into your eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort or fear. "Just breathe, babygirl," his voice soothes you a bit. "It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it'll feel good real soon."

You nod, taking a deep breath as Joel starts to push inside of you. You feel a sharp pain as he breaks through your barrier, and you can't help but gasp at the sensation. “Ah, Joel, it hurts," you whimper, your eyes watering.

Joel curses under his breath, his eyes filled with concern. "I'm sorry, babygirl," he says, his voice gentle. "I know, I know, I gotcha.” He continues to move slowly, giving your body time to adjust to the intrusion. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, and you can't help but wince at the discomfort. Joel leans down, almost kissing you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. "It's okay, babygirl," he murmurs. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

As he continues to move, the pain starts to fade, replaced by a strange, unfamiliar sensation. It's not entirely unpleasant, but it's not exactly comfortable either. Joel seems to sense your confusion, and he starts to move his hips in a slow, circular motion. "Feel that, babygirl?" he touches your lower belly where you can feel his cock hitting. "That's your body gettin’ used to me. It's gonna feel good soon, I promise."

And he's right. As he continues to move, the sensation begins to shift, becoming something more pleasurable. You can feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to Joel's movements. "That's it, babygirl," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let yourself feel it. Let yourself feel me."

He starts to move faster, his hips thrusting harder against yours. You think you can feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm and Joel can sense it too. "You like that, babygirl? You like feeling my cock inside of you? You like feeling me stretch you open, fill you up?"

You nod, a small whimper coming from the back of your throat.

"Good," he breathes, pushing his hips deeper into yours, the friction making him groan. "Tell me when you're gonna come, sweetheart."

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "I-I'm gonna come," you gasp.

Joel's eyes widen, and he nods, his hips thrusting harder against yours. "Come for me, babygirl," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "Come on my cock."

The orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, so powerful that it feels like every nerve in your body is firing at once. You can't help but cry out, a loud, primal sound that probably alerts everyone in close proximity to what's happening. Your body convulses with pleasure, every muscle tensing and then releasing as waves of ecstasy wash over you.

Joel's thrusts become more erratic, his hips slamming against yours with a fierce urgency as he chases his own release. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps, each one hot and moist against your ear. "Fuck, babygirl," he groans. "I'm so close. I'm gonna come too." You can feel him throbbing inside of you, each pulse of his cock sending another shiver of pleasure through your body. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside of you, wanting to feel every inch of him as he fills you up with his warmth.

And then he's there, his body tensing as he reaches his own peak. "Fuck, babygirl," he groans. "Oh fuck!" He collapses on top of you, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

You can feel his heart pounding against your chest. For a moment, neither of you say anything, both of you too caught up in the afterglow of what just happened.

Finally, Joel lifts his head, looking down at you with a mixture of awe and desire. "Fuck, babygirl," he murmurs, his voice still low and husky. "That was...incredible."

You wrap your arms around him, feeling a surge of affection and gratitude. "Thank you," you whisper into his ear as you instinctively start stroking his hair.

Joel looks up at you, "What are you thankin’ me for?"

You feel a mix of embarrassment and shyness. "For showing me how good it can feel."

Joel smiles. "You're welcome, baby girl. I'm glad I could be the one to show you." He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a soft, gentle kiss. You can feel yourself getting lost in the moment, in the feeling of Joel's lips on yours, in the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

Your first kiss.

But all too soon, the bliss comes to an end. Joel pulls away, his eyes meeting yours. "I better get goin'," he says. "Your dad will be back soon."

You nod, feeling a surge of disappointment. "Okay," you say kinda pouty.

Joel smirks and lifts your chin in his hand so you're looking at him. "Don't look so sad, babygirl," he says, his voice gentle. "This is just the beginning. I promise to show you so much more."

With that, he gives you a quick kiss on the forehead and he gets up, putting his swim trunks back on. You watch as he walks away, your heart heavy in your chest. You know that what just happened was wrong, that it's not something that should have happened. But you can't help the way you feel, the way your body responds to Joel's touch. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You know that you should feel guilty, that you should be ashamed of what just happened. But all you can feel is a sense of excitement, of anticipation. You know that this is just the beginning.

And you can't wait.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #virgin!reader

1K notes · View notes

irmawrites · 5 months ago

Text

Sleeping with the enemy | One-Shot

Summary: your father, Gwayne Hightower, had always told you to beware of Davos Blackwood, son of one of your grandfather's most ardent haters. But when you meet him at a party years after graduating college, you can't help but think he's not so bad after all.

Rating: Explicit [18+], MDNI.

Pairing: modern!Davos Blackwood x Hightower!Reader (appearance isn’t specified, everyone is 18+ in this)

TW: smut with a tiny bit of plot, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, praising kink, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, afab reader, not proofread.

Words count: 4393

Author’s note: Hi, everyone! This is my first time posting here, and I have to admit I'm a bit intimidated ahaha like a lot of people, I fell in love with Davos Blackwood's in episode three and ABSOLUTELY had to write this idea that's been on my mind for a while now.

I should probably mention that English is not my mother tongue, so please excuse my grammar mistakes!

Davos Blackwood had a bad reputation in your neighborhood, that much was true.

The rumors about him had started when you were still in college, something about red liquid smeared on the mirror in the boys' bathroom. A silly prank involving fake blood and strange theatrics to scare off a younger classmate that had perhaps gone too far. It was your own cousin Aemond who had found the fake crime scene just after the culprit had left, still licking his red-stained fingers. It caused quite a stir at the time, and he hadn't been seen on campus for at least two weeks. It may have been fake blood or just a tasteless joke, it was still inevitable that action would have to be taken.

It was Aeron Bracken in particular who had helped make these bizarre stories popular. He told anyone who would listen that Davos Blackwood was a deranged, violent madman. It was no secret that the two young men didn't get along. But no one expected things to get as bad as they did. There had been rumors in the hallways and whispers in the cafeteria, but that wasn't all. His car had been vandalized and marked with insults on several occasions. Even Gwayne Hightower, your father, had warned you.

A real witch hunt.

As far as you knew, however, the main target had remained unaffected by the situation, even toying with those who provoked him. In a way, he almost seemed to enjoy the wild, mysterious aura that all this fuss gave him.

You, for one, had never really believed it. After all, he didn't look like a bad guy, with his big, green eyes and permanently disheveled black hair. He seemed a little strange to you, a little off, but not enough to be considered a clear danger. But your opinion didn't matter much.

Nothing had ever destined the two of you to spend time together. His parents' company only did business with Rhaenyra's, refusing any ties and especially any agreements with the Hightowers. His father seemed to harbor a fierce hatred and boundless distrust of your family, apparently fearing that Otto's overweening ambition would lead him to overturn the order of succession established by Viserys himself and install his own grandson as sole ruler of the company.

And in your world, your parents had a bit more say in who you dated than they did for other people. You couldn't just go out with a guy because he seemed interesting, especially if he was the son of one of your grandfather's most ardent haters.

So you'd never spoken to each other in college, let alone at the lavish charity galas your family hosted.

Never, until that day.

"You like Iron Maiden?" a hoarse, unfamiliar voice said from behind you as you wrung the water out of your hair, "or is that your boyfriend's shirt?". The sun was high in the sky and you could feel the heat of its rays burning your exposed neck. The clear waters of the Targaryen family pool sparkled, and the garden echoed with the bursts of voices of those Aegon had invited to what should have been a casual gathering of the younger generation with ties to the Targaryen business.

You didn't think he'd invite Davos Blackwood, though.

"It's mine," you replied, giving the young man a mischievous smile, your fingers playing absentmindedly with the string that held the bottom of your swimsuit to your hip, "and yeah, it's one of my favorite bands actually." He seemed to take a moment to assess the situation, his eyes roaming up and down your body, an unreadable smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Never pegged you as a little rebel," he crossed his arms over his chest before continuing, "more of a model daughter." You knew he was toying with you, trying to tease you, but you were more than happy to play along.

Besides, you understood where the thought came from, you who were usually more used to short skirts and high heels than band shirts.

Mentally, you thanked Aegon for thinking of him. "Be careful, Blackwood," your voice sounded like a playful threat, "you might be surprised."

You were about to leave to return to the deck chairs, but it seemed that Davos wasn't quite finished with the conversation. "Wait," he ordered, taking your wrist between his broad fingers. Mechanically, you glanced around to make sure no one was watching. After all, the last thing you wanted was for someone to spy on your conversation with someone who still belonged to your grandfather's enemy side. "What is it?" it was your turn to cross your arms over your chest, your eyebrows furrowing as you waited for some kind of justification from him. It was clear he had something on his mind, but you just couldn't figure out what. "Do you want to come over to my place sometime?" he finally said, and you felt your breath catch somewhere between your throat and your lungs. "Why?" the question crossed your lips before you could even think about it.

You didn't know each other, had never spoken before, not to mention the fact that your families didn't approve of each other. You were tempted to agree, of course, because whether you liked it or not, you felt this kind of almost magnetic attraction pulling you together.

You'd have liked to think it was fate, but you knew it was just your love of danger and the forbidden.

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts again. "You seem like a pretty nice girl, and we obviously have the same taste in music," he replied, finally loosening his grip on your wrist, "we could watch a movie, get to know each other, something like that." The offer was tempting, the prospect of spending a little more time with him appealing, but even though you desperately wanted to say yes, you knew you couldn't. You had to be reasonable and listen to that little voice in your head that told you it all sounded like a terrible idea. But he seemed to sense your reluctance because he quickly added, "Don't worry, no one will know."

***

Davos’ room wasn't exactly what you'd call tidy. You noticed a half-full ashtray on the windowsill and a few empty cans on his desk. It was the opposite of your own bedroom, neatly decorated and perfectly organized. Your wardrobe drawers were a bit of an exception, but that didn't really matter.

Even so, you couldn't help but find it a little charming. The smell of his cologne in the air, the half-unraveled sheets, this was unmistakably him. It tasted risky and illicit, and it stirred something unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach. A reaction that no boy had ever managed to provoke in you.

"There's no denying it, vampires really are the best supernatural creatures," you muttered, sinking your teeth into the last slice of the half-cold pizza you'd ordered earlier. You were especially comfortable sitting cross-legged on his bed as the rain pounded against the windows and the end of the movie drew near on his computer screen. His parents were out of town for the week, on a business trip or something, providing you with an opportunity to finally meet away from prying eyes. He seemed quite comfortable too, with his leg pressed against yours and his hand wrapped around his soda cup, which he sipped absentmindedly. "I have to say, I never thought you'd be into movies like this," he told you after a few long seconds, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "given your looks, I thought you'd be more into romantic comedies or something." You held back an annoyed sigh.

"Like I said..." you finally replied, "you should beware of appearances."

They can be misleading sometimes, you kept to yourself.

It was true that you were usually a sweet, sensible girl, the ideal daughter who always smiled and never caused trouble. The pride and joy of your parents. But lately you had grown tired. Tired of following orders, of doing everything you were told without ever being able to listen to your heart. You were eager to get rid of this constant fear of disappointing your loved ones if you didn't live up to their expectations, and it seemed that life had given you the perfect opportunity to free yourself from all that.

"Is there something I should know?" the young man’s hand came to rest on the top of your thigh, his thumb delicately stroking the soft skin there, "some dark secret of yours, princess?". His almost mocking tone and the annoying nickname were enough to bring back that scorching heat in the pit of your stomach. The way he looked at you, at your breasts, made you think that he was affected by this sudden closeness, too. His gaze burned, almost as much as his fingers, which were now creeping dangerously up the hem of your shorts. And when you felt them graze the lace of your underwear in the hollow where your leg and hip met, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you'd bitten off more than you could chew.

But even though you were entering unfamiliar territory, something foreign to you, you refused to lose control and let him take what he wanted without saying a word. This wasn't your style. You always had a witty comeback ready to go. And you were going to show him.

Slowly, you moved forward a few inches on the bed to sit astride his very inviting lap, never taking your eyes off his lips. Your hands found his shoulders, and you could feel the hardness of his desire beneath your thighs. Gods, the sensation was divine. This was your doing. You and no one else’s. The sudden surge of power and dominance made your head spin. "Be very careful what you do now," his fingers settled on your hips to bring your chests a little closer together, his grip tight and bruising. "Or what?" you replied in an almost insolent, even provocative tone.

"Or we could end up doing something you might regret."

This was all a very bad idea, that much was true. Davos Blackwood was a very bad idea. But you didn't want to dwell on what the future might hold, let alone the potential consequences of your actions. All you knew was that you wanted more. More of his hands on your skin, more of his lips on yours, and more of him.

And it seemed that he, too, was eager to take it further.

His fingers made their way up from your waist to your chest, slipping under your tank top to brush his thumbs over the two little hardened buds. The ghost of a touch, really, but it was enough to make you moan. Your mouths were now just a few inches apart, your breaths mingling, but you didn't want to kiss him yet, choosing to prolong this delicious, exhilarating tension for a few minutes longer.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. "Do you feel it?". He backed up his words with action, rolling his hips and planting a kiss right at the corner of your jaw. "You know what this is?" he added, rolling one of your nipples between his index finger and thumb, "what happens to a man when a woman behaves the way you do?". Of course I know, you wanted to say but the words stuck in your throat and only a moan managed to break through the barrier of your lips. You weren't stupid, you were perfectly aware of what happened in this kind of situation. But you'd never seen it, let alone touched it, and the theory was very different from the actual reality.

"Shut up," you replied at last, before planting a kiss on his lips. You didn't mean it, though. To be honest, you wished he would talk to you like that all night long, sending a wave of heat straight to your core with words alone. His tongue found yours, silencing your thoughts, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep from losing your footing. "Such a foul mouth," he said, smiling against your lips as he gave you time to breathe, "we'll see if you're still so talkative once I'm done with you."

The young man's hands found the bottom of your tank top and pulled it over your head, and soon it was your shorts that suffered the same fate, leaving you in nothing but your black lace panties. You suddenly felt exposed, lying there under that hungry gaze that regarded you like a precious gift, a prized possession. You waited eagerly for his next move.

Where was the bold young woman who had taken the lead just a few minutes earlier, the one so determined not to lose control? It seemed like she'd already vanished, replaced by some shy creature beneath his crude words and inappropriate touch.

"What are you going to do to me?" you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to the skin of your neck, which he was kissing with increasing fervor. "Nothing you won't like," he replied as he stood up to get rid of his t-shirt, which joined the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. Your eyes couldn't help but wander over his toned torso dotted with dark hairs, your hands itching to touch him.

Soon enough, his lips found your jaw, then your neck, then the top of your chest, and you immediately shivered. The weight of his body lying on yours was delightful, comforting. "Please..." you whimpered as your hands settled on his shoulders, urging him to give you what you were so desperate for. You felt his fingers slide slowly against the skin of your belly, then lower, much lower, to play with the lace of your underwear, and your back arched almost reflexively. You wanted more, you needed more, and you were getting tired of waiting.

"Be patient, princess," he said, nibbling on the soft skin of your breast, his mouth soon wrapping around your hardened nipple. A grunt escaped you, and you weren't quite sure if it was from your frustration or the dominant tone he had just used. His hand slipped under the fabric of your panties to tease the top of your slit before brushing over your already soaked folds. It was annoying, really, the effect he was having on you with such a light touch. But it was heavenly, and you had decided to ignore the voice of reason for the night.

His index finger found the little pearl nestled at the apex of your center, and the contact felt like a delicious electric shock. You threw your head back, eyes closing, lips parting in a silent cry as he drew little circles around your most sensitive area. "Have you ever had anyone here?" he asked after a few seconds. When you didn't answer, he added: "I asked you a question, and I want you to answer me." There it was again, his commanding, almost controlling tone.

"N... no," you stammered as you opened your eyes again to meet his, "nobody." You suddenly felt like prey under his hungry gaze that devoured your trembling body. "Perfect," you heard, just before his fingers found your entrance, which was already clenching around nothing, "and here?".

The idea of being the first to enter you seemed to obsess him.

You nodded, this time from left to right, signifying that no, you had saved your virginity for the right man, the one who would know how to make you tremble under his ministrations, the one who would know how to make you beg for more, always more.

"Perfect," he repeated again, as the first knuckle of his index finger sank agonizingly slowly into you, teasing your inner walls. It was barely there, nothing really, and yet you already felt incredibly full. "You're so tight," he growled against the skin of your throat, "so warm too, you're going to feel amazing around me." He added a second knuckle and soon his finger was completely buried inside you. It felt good, and it felt right, but it didn't feel like enough. You wiggled your hips and it seemed as if Davos had understood your silent request immediately. "I need you to take another," he straightened on his left elbow to look at you with lust-blown pupils, "do you think you can do that for me?". Once again, you nodded your head in agreement, but this time it didn't seem to be enough for him. "Use your words, princess." You fought the urge to roll your eyes. "I... I can take more," you murmured right against his lips as you looked down between your thighs.

"Good girl," he said, his voice low and rough as you felt his middle finger pressing into you. He curled them both, brushing that spongy spot against your inner wall, and you threw your head back.

You dug your nails into his pale skin to stay anchored in the present as his thumb found your clit. But you knew you wouldn't last long. You could already feel tingles of pleasure buzzing through your body, and in the pit of your belly, the fires of delight burned a little more fiercely. You wanted to warn him, to tell him you were close, but he was quicker than you: "Come for me."

He didn't need to tell you a second time.

Soon, the wave of your orgasm washed over you.

It made your whole body shake with spasms, your climax exploding like fireworks behind your eyelids. Your lips crashed against his neck to stifle your final moan as your back arched under the intense sensation. The young man was merciful enough to give you a few seconds to recover before withdrawing his fingers, leaving you empty and frustrated. "Look at the mess you made," you heard him groan, "clean it up." His index and middle fingers brushed across your lips, which parted eagerly to welcome them into your warm mouth.

You timidly wrapped your tongue around them under his predatory gaze. The mere thought that you could taste yourself on your taste buds set your body on fire once again. It was indecent, inappropriate, and you probably should have been ashamed to be used like this, but you couldn't care less.

Maybe it was his fault, or maybe you'd just found each other despite everything that kept you apart.

His fingers left your mouth to wrap around your neck. But as he lay back on the mattress and guided you towards his lips, you resisted. Once again, you straddled his hips, only this time completely naked. He looked at you for a few seconds, a little confused, until you reached under the elastic of his underwear to slide it down his legs. This seemed to make him realize the extent of your intentions. His hard member jumped free and caught your eye. Standing proud with a mass of dark curls adorning its base, the sight alone made you salivate. "Let me thank you," you said, as your fingers gently traced its length. "I want to make you feel good too." You slowly moved between his legs to kiss his inner thighs.

You reached out tentatively and wrapped your fingers around his manhood. It felt heavy in your hand, massive and your index finger couldn't quite touch your thumb because it was so wide. You brought your lips to his crotch and, watching Davos from beneath your long lashes, planted a quick kiss on the head where it was already weeping for you. Your tongue traced a vein on the underside without ever breaking eye contact. He threw his head back, his lips parted to let out a muffled curse.

The rush of power you felt when you saw him so vulnerable under your touch was sinfully delicious.

You tilted your head to the side to plant a series of kisses all along his hardened manhood, your big innocent eyes still locked with his. There was a pause, a few tense seconds, before finally, finally, you moved your head forward to take him fully into your mouth. His big hand found refuge at the back of your skull, and you let him guide you completely.

The grip on your hair tightened, almost to the point of pain. "Breathe, through your nose," the young man ordered, but his voice was more urgent than before, his breathing becoming ragged from the growing pleasure. "You can do better than that." The fingers buried in your locks soon forced you to swallow him whole, your nose pressed against his pelvis, the unruly hair tickling your face. You could feel yourself drooling around him, the action messy. "Such a filthy girl," he said as his thumb came to caress the corner of your mouth, right where his member disappeared between your lips, "sucking my cock like a real whore." You let out an audible moan around his length in response to the foulness of his words.

But instead of disgusting you, it only served to encourage you.

You hollowed out your cheeks, still following the rhythm of his hand, which had resumed its place at the back of your head. He was big, and he filled your mouth in a way you hadn't experienced before, but you wanted to prove to him that you could satisfy him, that you could make him proud. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, which he hastily wiped away with the tip of his free thumb. "Shh... you're doing so well," he praised you in a reassuring tone. You knew he was close to reaching his climax. His breathing had become labored, his movements erratic, and it was evident that you were causing him to lose his balance. But it seemed he didn't want to end it that quickly.

"Wait, not yet," he straightened into a sitting position, placing his hand on your cheek to force you back a few inches, "I'd hate to waste it." The implication made your cheeks flush, but you couldn't help but look forward to what would come next.

His hands came to rest on your waist, encouraging you to sit on his hips again, this time making his still impossibly hard manhood brush against your soaked cunt. The contact alone was enough to elicit a moan from you. His own fingers wrapped around his member as he guided it towards your narrow entrance.

And after what felt like an eternity, he finally thrust into you.

He stretched you to perfection, the foreign sensation a mixture of delicious pain and aching pleasure. "Fuck princess, you're tight," your head found refuge in the hollow of his neck, but you could hear that annoying smirk in his voice, "I'm going to ruin you." And oh how you couldn't wait for him to make good on his threats. "Move," you pleaded against the skin of his throat as you hesitantly moved your hips up and down to get that delicious friction you craved. He seemed hell-bent on teaching you self-restraint, even though you desperately wanted to see him lose control. He grabbed your waist in a firm grip, keeping you pressed against his hips and making you whine. "Did I say you could move?" he asked, kissing the side of your jaw. Once again that night, you'd annoyed him by not answering, and he repeated, "did I say you could move?".

It seems he was also trying to make you learn obedience, in addition to patience.

You didn't even have a chance to react before the young man used his grip on your waist to pull back almost completely, revealing his member glistening with your sticky juices before thrusting himself into you once more. His head was rubbing against that most delicious spot inside you, making your legs tremble with pure bliss. "Please, I..." You didn't even know what you were asking for as he moved back and forth continuously. You thought he'd ask you to speak again, but he was too caught up in pleasure and close to his release to be bothered by your pleas.

But even if he'd lost his rhythm, it was clear he was still determined to satisfy you. His thumb was back on your little pearl, tracing small circles around it, while inside you his length relentlessly pounded against your inner wall. You could feel yourself clenching around him, and the heat between your thighs was back with a fiercer intensity than ever. “I’m going to fill you up,” his teeth nibbled at the soft skin of your neck, marking it possessively, “I’m going to fill you up and you’re going to take everything I’m going to give you, feel me for days.” The moans that came out of your mouth were now completely incoherent, a confused jumble of yes and please.

Your climax hit hard and fast—stronger than the one Davos had offered you earlier that night. You dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving red half-moons as evidence of your forbidden actions. Your back arched off the mattress, pressing his body against yours as reality slipped through your fingers and a myriad of stars danced behind your eyelids. He followed you just a few seconds later, pouring into you with white ropes.

He stayed inside you for a few more moments, his length softening. But neither of you felt like moving, not when you were so comfortable, lying against each other, your limbs tangled. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead that made your heart clench. You still refused to think about the future and the problems that might arise from such a strong connection between the two of you. All that mattered for the moment was his skin against yours and your fingers in his hair.

"We should do that again," you murmured as you kissed his cheeks, his chin, his nose, "someday."

He smiled.

"We will," he said with confidence, "I'll make sure of that, princess."

The nickname made your stomach flutter with excitement.

#davos blackwood #davos blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader #hotd x reader #davos blackwood x you #benjicot blackwood x you #davos blackwood fanfic #benjicot blackwood fanfic #hotd fanfic

495 notes · View notes

itsagoodluckkiss · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, I wanted to make a request about Luffy x female reader. The reader is feminine but clumsy, emotionally-reserved, unexperienced and kind-hearted. Smart and funny, with a soft spot for Luffy. . As for the plot, "she fell first, but he fell harder", slice of life with a little angst would be perfect. I'm desperate for fanfiction about first experience in everything kinda stuff. I'm not a minor, so it would be very good to see some sensual and awkward smut. I would be glad to read anything you'll write about Luffy x female!reader and I hope that you liked my request (^o^)/ sorry for bad english

It's Okay ~ Luffy x F!Reader

First of all, thank you for being my first request, you made me really happy and I'm really sorry for the really long wait, we had a really rough couple of months. Also, it's the first smut I've ever written so read this with patience. English is not my first language either and I'm sorry for any mistakes. Anyways, I had fun writing this, I hope you'll like it, lots of love!

Words: +3k

Warnings: hurt/comfort, op spoilers, ptsd, mentions of character death, comfort sex, smut with plot, oral (f!receiving), virginity loss (both), unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluffy ending kinda?, no use of Y/N

MDNI

Quiet days on The Thousand Sunny were as rare as mythical zoans. Not only because of dangerous encounters but also because of how calm the whole crew was today. Even your walking ray of sunshine captain was not as wild as usual. But you couldn’t really complain as you could focus on your task in silence.

The tailor of the crew, responsible of sewing, stitching and mending every piece of fabric on the ship. And that included the sails. Strong winds the night before managed a large tear and the next island was a couple of days away. So you had a job to do. Standing on a rope ladder, you effortlessly worked through the sails with elegance. Every piece of fabric in your home deserved care, as you’d always say when you mended the torn up clothes of your crew mates.

You were proud you could provide your family with loved and cared clothes and everything else they needed, top priority along with the dream of becoming the best tailor the seas had ever seen. Your mind wandered away to the smile of your captain every time you placed the fixed straw hat you came to love so much on his head, while you automatically repaired the sail. But your gracefulness started and ended at the needle in your hand.

Looking away into the sea for one second resulted in you prickling your finger. The sudden feeling caused you to lose your step and balance and you yelped as you fell from the ladder, expecting a hard fall and a trip to Chopper’s infirmary. But the land never came, arms wrapping around your frame, drawing you to somebody’s embrace. In fear, you wrapped yourself around your savior’s waist like a koala, your flower patterned dress coming up slightly. Your face went to the crook of his neck for one second, immediately recognizing who it was, and you raised your head to look at him in embarrassment.

“Hi there!”

“Luffy, thank you, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright. Was on my way to check if you needed help. Guess I was right.” he said laughing.

You smiled and hugged him tightly as he put you down on the deck. You were embarrassed, part of it because of your own clumsiness, another part because of the way Luffy’s hands lingered on your waist before letting you go.

“Are you almost done? Picked up a new card game from the last island and I want to play with you.”

“Oh, ah, I, I still have some, some work to do...?”

You didn’t. You also didn’t know why you said that. You said a lot of stupid stuff lately. You loved spending time with your captain, especially when you knew there wouldn’t be a crazy fight following you in a few hours. Falling in love with his brown eyes, his goofy and brave personality and his loyalty to his friends was the reason you said yes to joining the Straw Hats after you helped them save Robin in Ennies Lobby.

But ever since you returned to Sabaody, it’s gotten harder to contain the feelings for your first love. The other night while you two were keeping watch and talking about things you loved, an “I love you” escaped your lips without thinking, proceeding to an inept attempt to cover it by saying how you loved he is such a loyal friend. You felt the blush rushing to your cheeks as you looked again on his face and noticed something you were seeing more and more these days. His trademark smile was reduced to a small upward line and in his eyes there was a gleam of sadness. You couldn’t have that.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you around later I guess-”

“On another note, I can always finish it later. Let’s go play, Captain!”

And you grabbed his arm, running like a child playing chase across the deck toward Nami’s tangerine trees, laughing as you tripped on your two left feet, Luffy holding you upwards and laughing in the process, always there to catch you.

The ship was in motion, light rain falling from the night sky as Luffy found himself walking aimlessly on the empty deck. His black hair tousled, his straw hat dangling from the string around his neck, his posture slumped, trying to find some sort of relief in the breeze that hit his face. His trembling hands grip the railing, his gaze lost towards the vast ocean, unable to back focus on anything but his most recent nightmare. Memories of Ace's death spreading, like poison in his veins, once again. He tried to steady his breathing but failed as hot tears run down his cheeks, silent sobs leaving his body, trying not to wake up his crew. He hadn’t talked to anyone about Marineford. There was no reason for his friends to see him in that weakened state. He could tell that everyone felt guilty because they weren’t there for him, he didn’t want to feed that ugly feeling inside them.

You felt restless, worry prickling your skin like a hundred needles at once. Sleep wouldn’t do you a favor so you hoped off bed to get some fresh air on the deck and some moments of peace to think. Luffy’s sad eyes lingered in your thoughts. You couldn’t help but think about how much he had changed since you first met. You remembered the scrawny, eager, brave boy he was. Now his hair was longer and spikier, and he looked stronger than ever before, he was almost a man. Despite his carefree looks, a lot had changed about him. Yes, he was still as eager and resilient and determinated as ever, yet more mature, as much as maturity applied to him. And that big scar across his chest was the only testament of the fight he gave alone two years ago, as he hadn't talked to any of you about it. Not that he had to. You all knew you would wholeheartedly give him the support in any form he’d need. You’d do what you knew best. Take care of the people you loved. And from the moment you joined the crew, you knew your heart belonged to the straw hat captain.

You spotted Luffy in the front of the ship. It was unusual for him to be up and alone this late at night. Your eyes filled with concern, you walked closer to him as you noticed the trembling in his form, worry rising in your chest. Your hand caressing his shoulder slightly, you didn’t want to scare him or make him feel worse.

"Luffy?" you asked softly, voice barely audible over the wind.

Luffy wiped his tear streaked face quickly and tried to control his heavy breathing, wanting to be like his usual self, even if he knew it was too late for acting.

“I…”

He took a deep breath trying to hold it all in. He was the one that was supposed to help people through their crying and problems, to protect them. He couldn’t protect his friends in Sabaody, he couldn’t save his brother. He swore he’d never let anything like those things happen again. He didn’t want to be seen as weak. Not again. Not in front of his crew. Not in front of you.

“It’s okay, Luffy.”

His eyes met yours, a warm and safe gaze, always inviting and full of love, ready to be a place of comfort and joy to anyone that needed it. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder and back, taking him in a comforting embrace. His arms went immediately around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as silent sobs left him once again. He hugged you tightly, hyperventilating as he let every last feeling of grief and pain out. You felt your eyes well too, the pain your favorite person carried alone enough to make you want to scream.

“It’s okay… you’re okay… it wasn’t your fault…”

“I couldn’t… I thought you… were all dead… and… I was right there… I couldn’t save him… he left… in my arms… it should have been me!”

Your heart ached listening to Luffy's sobs, tears running down your face as well. You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, and looked into his red, puffy eyes.

“Listen to me! Don’t say that again, ever! We all know you’d never let us down. You did everything you could, Luffy, you always do, and it’s enough for us." You said, voice shaking, carrying all the sincerity in the world. "And you always were there for him. You gave everything you had! He loved you so much and you saved him because you showed him how loved and cherished he was! You're still doing everything you can to keep his memory alive. That's what he would want! Don’t do this to yourself, please.”

You wiped the tears off his face and squeezed his cheeks like you usually did when you shared food and laughs together, managing to drag out a small smile from the boy.

“How about we go grab some tea and biscuits from the kitchen before Sanji comes down from his watch and go to my room?” you suggested, knowing Luffy would never say no to food.

“It’s on!”

Stealth wasn’t your strongest suit as you somehow always managed to hit on something. And with Luffy beside you, havoc was almost always certain. Getting out of the kitchen as fast as you could, before Sanji’s yells could reach you, you run into the ship, down to your handicraft’s room. The warmth of the cabin enveloped Luffy, feeling a little more like his usual self now, as he took in the room. That’s were all your great works laid, with needles, threads and sewing machines all over the place. From clothes and blankets to large embroideries hanging from the walls. You laid a soft, fluffy blanket on the ground to sit on. You sipped your scolding tea as Luffy munched on a cookie, taking in your works.

“I don’t know how you can make beautiful things like these.”

“I’ve practiced it a lot. And I love it. I’m glad you like it, Captain.”

You smiled widely, gaining a toothy grin from him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For always being here.”

You were thinking your next words for a moment before moving the cups and plate from the blanket, taking his shoulders gently as you both laid on the ground, your eyes looking at each other, taking his hand into yours.

“It's alright to not be fine, you know… I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”

“It’s… I’m not thinking about it most of the time… I just have nightmares… it’s hard sometimes.”

“And that’s completely logical, Luffy, you’ve been through hell! I collapsed when I heard the news and couldn’t be with you. I would have run to you if I could. I love you so much and I’m sorry I wasn’t there and…”

You were the one tearing up now, cheeks red from embarrassment as the words slipped through your mouth without thinking. You knew Luffy would be shattered when you heard about Ace. The only thing you wanted was to hug him until you pulled all his pieces back together. He met your gaze. Luffy was never interested in romance. He didn’t thought he needed it. Until he met you and for the first time, he wanted someone to join his crew not only because he wanted them as a friend and they’d be a great addition, but because he felt something different, something he couldn’t quite understand. The only thing he knew was that he loved you a little differently than the rest of his friends. It was his turn to brush the tears off your face now and you melted from his touch. You tried to speak but before you could, his hand, warm and slightly trembling, cup your cheek. His lips pressed into yours, just for a moment, before drawing back only inches from your face.

“I think I love you too.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding against your ribs. Never had you thought you’d hear those words from Luffy. Of course, you knew he loved everyone in the crew, but this felt different. You felt like you would burst into flames as you blushed even more.

“You, you do?!”

“Yeah… you’re sweet and strong… always by my side… you’re very important to me…”

You let out a gasp of surprise as you hugged him tightly and crushed your lips into his clumsily, both of you laughing at your enthusiasm. Small, sweet kisses evolved into longer, more passionately ones and soon you were underneath him, his hands caressing your thigh beneath your dress, your hands slowly pushing his vest off of him.

“Are you okay?”

“I am, you?”

“Me too.”

Soon, your clothes landed somewhere else in the room as you felt him caressing your skin everywhere and you gasped into the kiss, him taking advantage of your parted lips to push his tongue into your mouth, tangling it messily with yours. His lips travelled down your neck and lower, soon to be between your legs. A feeling of self-consciousness crept over you as you closed your legs and he smiled up at you as he caressed your thigh.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can stop if you want.”

“No, I want this, I’ve just… never do this before…”

“Neither do I. We’ll find it together. But I want you to be comfortable. You can stop me if you don’t feel okay.”

You smile down at him and relaxed a bit, allowing him to spread your legs and start kissing the inside of your thighs. It felt so good to share another experience with him, and his touch was gentler than you thought it would be. He positioned your thighs on his shoulders and before you could react, his mouth was on you, his tongue licking a stripe before latching onto your clit. Your head fell back immediately as a choked out moan slipped through your mouth, one hand flying to his hair, pulling on his locks gently as the other grasped the blanket beneath you. His eyes were on you, his look was magnetic and focused on the task of making you feel good. A finger circling your tight hole, it pushed inside you slowly as he sucked on your clit, making you whimper from the pleasurable feeling. The stretching inside you new and welcomed, a combination of his mouth and a second finger breaching in has your orgasm approaching faster than you expected. He curled his fingers upwards, hitting repeatedly a spot you had never reached before on your own and it pushed you over the edge unexpectedly. He smiles against you as small moans left your mouth, your whole body shaking, your head spinning.

Coming down from your high, he crawls back on top of you and kisses you passionately, your tongues intertwining. You can taste yourself through the kiss, and it makes you long for more. He breaks the kiss and smiles down at you.

“How was that?”

“Luffy, it was… amazing. How did you know-”

“Didn’t. Just did what felt right. Are you okay to continue?”

You nodded eagerly and he grinned at you, his lips back on yours again. Your hand sneaks between your bodies to grab his dick, gently pumping him up and down, bringing him close to your folds. He moans into the kiss and swats your hand away, gliding himself between your now soaked pussy, his tip touching your clit every time, sending small jolts of pleasure down your spine. He breaks the kiss, his face only inches apart from yours, staring into your eyes.

“You’re sure?”, he whispered.

“Yes captain, please…”

A shiver run through his body as he hears your plead, and he moves his tip against your entrance, pushing in. A small gasp escape you and a sharp hiss leaves his mouth as he slowly slides into you, his movements awkward but gentle, the feeling of your warmth around him making him slightly tremble as he bottoms out. It felt slightly uncomfortable for you at first but the pain you expected to feel was nowhere to be found. His lips were on your neck, nibbling and sucking gently while his arms roamed your body, trying to make you relax as he stayed still, waiting for you to adjust to him. A few moments passed and your hand cupped his chin, bringing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

“Feels better now?”

“Yes, Luffy… please, move…”

He smiled down at you and placed another soft kiss on your lips as he began to move, taking it slow and tender, setting a rhythm that made you gasp, the pleasure spreading over you. One of his hands on yours, intertwining your fingers as the other grabbed your thigh to keep you against him, his forehead on yours, eyes closed as you both relished the feeling of your bodies pressed together. His speed picked up slightly as he finds a steady rhythm and you moan his name, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close. He smiles widely and kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, your fingers running through his hair, gently tugging at his dark locks.

One hand gripped your thigh rougher now, pushing it upwards, the shift in position allowing him to go deeper, the other sneaking between your bodies to rub at your clit. Your face buries in the crook of his neck, trying to choke down your moans, the knot in your stomach tightening as his thrusts grow faster and sloppier, you feel that he’s close too.

Your lips connect again in a messy kiss and your back arches as you come undone, crying out through the kiss, your nails dragging down his back. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck, his hands grab your hips to drag you to him as he fucks you through your high, his hips stuttering, feeling your walls squeezing him tight, pushing him over the edge with you.

You stay like this for a while, hands wrapped around each other, his face buried in the crook of your neck, savoring the moment. He places a tender kiss on your cheek and turns to face you, his head on your shoulder.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel… wonderful…” you say with a sigh as you smile up at him. His hand caressing you cheek, he placed another sweet kiss before stretching his hand to grab another blanket nearby, covering the both of you. He then lies flat on top of you again, his arms wrapping around you, and closes his eyes, still inside you.

“Luff, we…”

“Can’t move, I feel snuggly right now.”

You laugh softly as you hug him back, feeling his breath slow down as he slowly falls asleep, your eyelids getting heavy as well, a content smile playing on your lips.

“Goodnight dummy…”

#luffy x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #luffy x you #luffy smut #one piece smut #luffy x female reader #monkey d luffy #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d luffy x reader #one piece fanfiction #luffy x y/n #monkey d luffy x y/n #luffy x reader smut

507 notes · View notes

weirdworldofwinnie · 1 year ago

Text

A Safe Way Out

Jonathan Breech x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only)

Summary: You're a very shy patient at the psychiatric hospital and the newest inpatient part of the therapy group has to be the cutest man you've ever seen, and he takes an interest in you, but he's not quite as innocent as he looks.

Word Count: ~3,384

Warnings: Smut (unprotected sex), loss of virginity/innocent reader, cum squirting, oral (fem receiving), mental illness, past trauma, talk of depression and suicide, some angst, language

Disclaimer: This just fantasy/fiction, I do not own anything from the 2001 Irish film On the Edge starring Cillian Murphy.

Breech, Jonathan.

He was surely the prettiest person you'd ever witnessed admitted to this institution that he could make both men and even women jealous, even though his pajamas were ill-fittingly too short and he had a cocky attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the staff and other patients, but he wasn't a total asshole... at least you hoped.

At the couple of group therapy sessions he attended he was rebellious, giving the always tired (but very patient) Dr. Figure grief through ample sarcasm that made you stifle smirks, but as usual you never spoke much, being selectively mute unless you were forced to answer a question from Dr. Figure. They didn't give any drugs to dope up; the doctor didn't think you nor the small group you were part of needed them, but sometimes you wished they would so you didn't have to participate in these stupid sessions that went in half-spun circles and could just conk out in your room or outside.

You had been submitted here by your estranged parents after a series of concerning events that you had tried to mentally block out, including attempting to take your own life because of bullying and abuse; you were not able to ever acclimate fully to society because of it, which led you to being stuck in this place, mentally spinning wheels while growing more and more wary of the outside world everyday. Jonathan was the opposite; he had a spark of defiance and a fire you didn't have enough oxygen for to nourish for yourself. He clearly didn't think he really belonged here and in a way, you sort of admired him even if he was a bit strange and potentially dangerous... He was certainly an exciting refresher in such a dull, day-to-day drudgery.

One day after walking out of yet another mildly frustrating therapy session, he stepped in front of you in the hall as you were making your way back to your room alone, a curious light in his stunningly blue excuses for eyeballs.

"Hey, you mind if I join ya in your room?" he asked suddenly and you froze, uncertain of how to react. You only ever minimally interacted one-on-one with people you trusted... Fellow patient Nick kept saying Jonathan wasn't to be trusted, but Nick was also kind of a paranoid weirdo that always was listening to his headphones, so what did he know?

Jonathan seemed to sense your hesitation and he grinned, trying to put you at ease or maybe he was just messing with you. Either way, you had to hide your intrigue in case he was pulling your leg.

"Don't look spooked out, I'm just so fucking bored at this place and you're pretty cute, but you never really talk... I just wanna get to know ya better," he explained sincerely, but you still felt wary.

"Can I see your room at least?" he asked innocently and you finally gave him a shy nod, causing him to smile in broad relief that reminded you of the last rays of sunlight splashing upon the cliffs.

He walked along beside you, swinging his arms back and forth a bit as if he was winding himself up, all the way to your room and past an orderly who gave him a suspicious glance, but you gave the man a thumbs up to let him know it was fine. Security here was surprisingly not as strict as one would imagine for a psychiatric hospital and the younger patients tended to sneak out once a week to the city with minimal repercussions. They always came back anyway.

You reached your designated room and opened the door slowly, and Jonathan strolled in after you, sighing loudly.

"Oh, would'ja look at that - they gave you the fanciest room they've got," he commented sarcastically as you sat down on the small bed, tucking your knees up to your chest and he stood, surveying you and scene for a second and then joining to sit, copying your posture. He fiddled with his slippers for a minute and then turned to you curiously.

"So lemme get this right: You only talk when or if you have ta?"

"Yeah," you mumbled and he nodded sagely.

"That's an interesting way to deal with people. Don't blame ya, lot of wanks out there not worth being spoken to. What's your name - I mean, I know it from the meeting, but can you say it?" he asked, however unlike any doctor, it wasn't clinical or judgmental. He truly seemed interested and so you whispered your first name aloud to the floor.

"It's a nice name. How old are you?" You could hear the smile in his deep voice.

"T-Twenty two," you responded with a slight stutter, too fluttery to be able to meet his gaze.

"Fuck, that's older than me... I'm nineteen, but you know already know that. You ever been anywhere outside of Dublin?"

You looked away, not answering. If you ever had, you'd been too small to remember.

"How long you've been here?" he asked curiously and you splayed your hand, palm up towards him.

"Five weeks or five years?"

"Years," you whispered and he was silent for a few minutes, picking at the hem of his baby blue pajama pants.

"So much for the road to recovery, eh?" he scoffed and you just shrugged.

He put his legs down, feet flat on the floor and crossing his arms tight to his chest, wearing that oversized silly orange patterned sweater of his. He sniffed and bit his lip, glancing up at the bare ceiling as if he would find the answers to existence there.

"Something happened to you, I know. Shit, something happened to us all here. It's okay if you don't wanna or can't talk 'bout it. But I can't figure out if you have the same thoughts me and the others have? You know, what the doc locks us up for... suicidal? Like there's no fucking point to this blip of existence? And they think we're nuts, but we just seein' the truth."

You slowly pulled up your sleeve, exposing the faint scars etched into your left wrist, remnants of cutting attempts to escape life before you had been dumped off in this place indefinitely. You had never tried it since and were now an adult and could seek the means to leave if you truly wanted to, but there was nothing out there in the world for you.

"See this pinky finger?" Jonathan asked suddenly, poking up his baby finger and you nodded, interested.

"I was just trying to get rid of what was left of me old Da and the damn car didn't do the job right. Could've broken neck but all I broke was me baby finger. Least you've got the scars there to prove survivin'." He sighed heavily, almost disappointed, and you spoke the first sentence you had in days, your voice hushed from disuse.

"Why do ya wanna die?"

He blinked, giving you a meaningful glance and his full lips stretched into a tight ironic smile.

"I don't want to die; I don't want to be alive. I'm just a fucking living ghost, we all are... Doesn't that realization scare the wits outta ya?"

He looked away at the wall, blinking as the drippy tears escaped and his mouth quivered in quiet anguish, his dewy face scrunching up. You reached over and touched his cheek, catching a tear rolling down his smooth pallid skin and wiping it off tenderly. He sniffled, embarrassed, and gently took your wrist and whispered emphatically.

"I like you, Y/N. You don't freak out or talk down to me or bitch about your own problems. You're unique, but I'm thinking ya too cute to be truly crazy."

"Cute?" you repeated and he grinned at hearing your high breathy voice.

"Don't be so afraid to talk, you got a pretty voice. Bet nobody be calling ya cute in a long time, right?"

You shrugged sheepishly and he tilted your chin up with his fingers, tracing the outline of your face fondly and you blushed, not used to being touched by anyone like that. It was... comforting, a feeling you had been very numb to for some time. His pinkish lips parted and he tilted his head slightly, mouth gaping in anticipation for a kiss but you froze, unsure and not wanting to take the lead.

"I want a kiss," he murmured and the way he said it made you draw closer, trusting the process. He closed his eyes and blindly groped your lips, sucking, and then his tongue dove in with a surprising force, swirling around your mouth and he gripped the sides of your head in a vice, cutting off any resistance... Not that you were repulsed in any way once the initial shock wore off.

He broke away after several seconds, gasping and licking his lips hungrily.

"Mm, didja like that?"

Your cheeks became pink and he glanced over your head at the windowpanes being pattered with a steady rain and it was growing dimmer outside, evening approaching with a cloaking storm, and it reflected in the dull colors of the room that was becoming muted of natural light.

"Can I show you something?" he asked huskily, shifting on the bed restlessly.

You ducked your chin in affirmative, heart fluttering in uncertainty as he reached to yank his sweater and pajama shirt over his head, leaving him with a bare chest. You stared, fascinated in his anatomy; it had been so long since you'd seen anyone without some clothing on. He grinned, pointing awkwardly to your own chest.

"So, uh, now this... this'll be the part where you remove your garment," he instructed and cautiously, you unbuttoned your pj's and you never wore a bra, so soon he was facing your naked breasts with your nipples hardening from the airy exposure.

"Really cute," he breathed, gently putting a finger to your right nipple and pressing lightly, stroking around the center and then drawing a line to the other breast, doing the same to that one and you shivered, feeling a strange pull in your stomach that was borderline butterflies. He leaned back, bouncing up slightly on the bed and kicking his slippers off to the floor.

"But hold on, there's more to see," he said with a verging mischievous excitement. You'd never seen him look so genuinely joyful and as he tugged down his pj bottoms, you blinked, faced with a protruding bugle in his white underwear.

After a beat, he removed his boxers, springing forth a stiff appendage that you'd never in the flesh on a man, well, in its erect state at least.

"Want to touch it? It doesn't bite," Jonathan joked with a lazy grin and you cautiously extended a hand and put your fingers on the glistening tip. It was definitely moist and firmly solid, and he shuddered through a breath of arousal.

"Wet," you observed and he laughed, scooting closer so his penis was resting in your hands.

"I like it when you touch me there, don't stop," he begged and you felt him up, amused at his reaction.

He twitched in your palms as you ran careful fingers up his fleshy length and to his balls, lightly petting the coarse dark hair nesting around them, and he shivered pleasurably, resisting the urge to already ejaculate.

"Feelin' good?" you asked fondly, seeing his mouth agape and eyes nearly rolling back.

"Too fuckin' good, need to stop before I cum too quick. Wanna enjoy this... Lemme have at that pussy of yours now instead of using me dick, m'kay?"

You could tell it wasn't a question, but you weren't sure what he meant entirely. You eased off his genitalia, cock dripping slightly, and sat back, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Here," Jonathan murmured and his hands went to your waist, teasing down the waistband of your pj's and pushing the pants down your legs, letting you wiggle out and kick them to the floor, along with your slippers. He stared for a full ten seconds at your womanhood, biting his lip and swirling his tongue around his mouth, before he bent down and spread your legs apart. You tried to ask him what was going to happen, but he dove in already, tongue flicking at your delicate folds with attempted precision. You gasped audibly at the new sensation and he clamped hands down on your thighs, clinging on as he maneuvered his thick tongue faster and you grabbed at a fistful of his hair, shaking from the unfamiliarity and equal anticipation as your body seemed to take control of natural instincts and budding arousal grew stronger.

He just wanted to warm you up though, and he withdrew his tongue soon, lips glistening with a tiny smear of discharge. Your bare chest rose and fell in rhythm as he surveyed the fresh terrain, just aching for more. You very well might be a complete virgin and that prospect tantalized him yet also privately frightened him of messing up. Of course he'd been with girls before, but they weren't this sheltered and sweet. He may corrupt you and alter the course of this extremely new friendship, which in his mind was always meant to become more of a relationship; the moment he saw you he knew he needed to get in your pants.

"Eh, give it a go," Jonathan told himself forcibly and his finger jerked onto your entrance, worming in needily and making you squeak in surprise. He shushed you, zipping his lips with his free hand, giving you a clear message that it wasn't wise to make unusual noises. Even though it wasn't like there was cameras in the rooms, one couldn't be too careful. If Dr. Figure found out his newest unstable patient, the same one that pledged not to kill himself before New Year's Eve, was somewhat taking advantage of a virgin he just met in her own room, the doc would be most displeased.

Nevertheless, whimpers escaped from your throat as he pressed further to your clit and moved another finger to join the first, uncomfortably stretching into your walls. Despite the stinging pain, you felt an decent amount of wetness pooling from your vagina, almost like peeing, and clenched reflexively, hitting his knuckles.

"Oh, I'm thinking it's ready," he whispered impatiently, wriggling his digits away with a squelch and wiping your light drizzle of cum on his cock.

Before you could react, he adjusted position and slid on top of you, pressing his body down onto your bare one and rubbing his full cock in-between your thighs.

You gasped when he began to shove in rather roughly, squirming into your tight unbroken hole and you looked up at his face, watching his hair askew slightly and you noticed a scar above his eyebrow you hadn't noticed before. You wrapped your arms around his neck, afraid to get pinned underneath him, and tried to buck and roll with the motion, but it was getting painful.

"Hurts," you whimpered into his ear as he thrusted further.

"Not gonna hurt in a minute, baby," he whispered, too in heat to stop and consider much else and he clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle any more alarming noises.

"C-Can't go-go all the way in," he panted, his skin slapping yours and rocking the whole small bed.

Sure enough, the pain became more bearable though the more he worked you and pleasure eventually overturned it altogether, the bursting bloom of an orgasm that was very likely the best feeling that had ever happened to you. You sank your mouth on his shoulder to stifle a cry, careful to not bite too deeply, and then mewled into his neck, panting heavily along with him and digging your fingers into his brown scrubby sideburns and floppy hair.

"Mm, fuc-fucking good, ya likin' it, eh?" Jonathan choked out in a whisper and you couldn't respond, too taken by this incredible euphoria and the way his cock flexed inside close at your cervix. You weren't sure how long he could stay in without it becoming too uncomfortable, but he lifted up slightly, grunting softly at his own arousal and effort.

He pulled out just in time, finishing outside by squirting hot ropes of milky cum all over your vagina, stomach, and legs. The bedsheets took a few splatters as well and he heaved in relief as you laid there, utterly stunned at his sexual performance. You had squirted a little bit too and it had intermixed with his juices that you couldn't tell which was from whom. It was so intimate and gross and a big part of you absolutely loved it, having never been in such a situation before... It was exciting and playful.

He swiped two fingers through the fluids and spread it on your thighs further, encouraging you to feel it as well and you giggled at him taking your own fingers and guiding them up to his face, dotting his chin with cum.

Jonathan then sat back on his haunches and admired you, catching his breath and listening to the steady patter of rain. You rolled over onto your side and your eyes widened at a couple spots of blood on the sheets and he looked down in causal observance.

"Ah, that'd be normal, don't worry," he assured with a chuckle.

"Though, uh, maybe we'd better try to hide it case they come collect the sheets tomorrow," he realized on second thought.

"I say I been bleeding, on my cycle," you offered as an explanation.

"Yeah, that'd be good cover," he agreed and climbed off, picking up his clothing and shimmying back into the pajamas and sweater.

"Look, I'll get us some towels or somethin' from the bathroom," he said, walking quietly to the door and opening it with a peering glance out, but the coast was clear. Most patients should be in their rooms by now anyhow.

You relaxed in a post-orgasmic trance while he was gone, listening to the dripping weather outside and wondering how you'd be able to be normal around him tomorrow.

The door squeaked open softly a couple minutes later and Jonathan came back inside with a bundle of torn sheets of toilet paper clutched in his hand.

"Couldn't get towels, so I took some shit paper that'll have ta do instead," he announced with dry amusement and he used it to wipe you clean of the wet mess and you thanked him quietly, grateful to be dry again for it had become rather cold and tingly on your skin. You automatically flinched a fraction when he wiped at your folds, as you were raw and sore, but he was fairly gentle. When he finished, Jonathan moved in very close as if for a kiss, but only whispered near to your ear, tickling your earlobe with his warm breath.

"Don't tell anyone about what we did... just a little secret, m'kay? Though I guess you wouldn't be blabbin' to anyone else anyway," he chuckled darkly, but it wasn't mean.

"Maybe we can see each other again?" he proposed as he balled up the soiled toilet paper and retreated back towards the door.

"Okay, Jonathan," you whispered in reply and he flushed at the sound of his name on your lips.

"I think you'll be my new therapy, better than anything that wanker of a Freud psychiatrist can offer." He paused, shuffling his feet and then glanced up daringly, determination in his blue orbs.

"We'll find a way out soon, a safe way out, me and you and Rachel and Toby... and I'll show you how to have a good time at the pub, eh? Like the sound of that?"

You only smiled as he turned to exit, but then abruptly paused and bit his lip as he looked back at you with a yearning, like what the two of you had just done still wasn't enough.

"Abair do phaidreacha agus codhladh sámh," he spoke in Gaelic and you translated back softly with a meaningful smile.

"Say your prayers and sleep well."

With a dip of his head and smug, yet almost childlike smile, Jonathan ducked out the door and was gone for the night.

696 notes · View notes

effy-writes · 6 months ago

Text

Blitz: ABC’s of Intimacy

i’m posting my old stuff on here!!

•Aftercare (How do they look after you after sex)

He mainly just lays in bed and cuddles you. Nothing too crazy, he just lays there and listen to you talk and vice versa. He's not really into aftercare, but he does it for you.

• Body Part (Fav body part)

Boobs, he's a sucker (ha) for boobs. Groping, flicking, licking, sucking your nipples, he loves it.

•Communication (Do they talk during sex, roleplay, etc)

He's a huge talker and super into roleplaying. He mainly likes to roleplay as cowboys but is up to do whatever you want roleplay as.

•Dirty Secret (A secret they won't tell)

He's lowkey into you degrading him. He found out by accident whenever you yelled at him for accidentally cumming in your eye. Sometimes he gets on your nerves just so he could be yelled at by you.

•Experienced or Virgin

Super experienced, before yall got together bro was fucking like once a day.

•Goofy or Serious

Mainly serious in bed, but if it's just casual sex he'll say some dumb shit like, "I wonder if M&M are fucking right now." And you'll just reply with "Well I'm pretending I'm fucking Moxxie right now." And yall will just go back and forth

•Favorite Position (self explanatory)

He's a sucker for doggy. Pulling on your horns, hair, tail, he loves it. (Same with pegging)

•Hair (pubes shave or natural)

He's trimmed

•Intimacy (Their romantic level during sex)

It depends on what kind of day he had. If he had a pretty good day he's pretty romantic. Candles, music, all of that stuff. If he's having a shitty day then it's not as romantic but you can still tell he loves you.

•Jack off (How often)

Pretty often. Whenever you're not there he usually jacks off in the bathroom and thinks about you.

•Kinks

Choking, roleplaying, bondage (giving and receiving) He's not vanilla whatsoever. (But is willing to be vanilla if you're not up for it).

•Location (Fav areas to have sex)

Mainly his office, but he also loves doing it in the shower and on the couch. But office 100%

•Motivation (Their turn on's)

Whenever he sees you killing the targets. M&M have to pry him off of you basically. Also whenever he sees you wearing one of his shirts wearing no pants.

•No's

He doesn't have a lot of no's. The only thing is that he's against dressing up as clowns and roleplaying as them (because of his past)

•Oral (Give or receive)

At first he prefers receiving, but after that encounter with Verosika he was willing to give you oral, and ever since he loved it.

•Pace (Slow, gentle, rough, hard, fast)

Again, depending on what type of day he had. Sucky day, hard and rough, good day, slow and gentle. He's also willing to do whatever pace you would like.

•Quickie

He loves them. He always asks for a quickie every day (and if you're willing to do one).

•Risk (What things he's willing to do)

Anything and everything. Living world, the headquarters, on a fuck ton of drugs, in public (if you're up for that)

•Stamina

Pretty high, he can go how long you would like. After sex, he would need a couple of hours to recover, but after he's willing to go again.

•Toys

He loves them. His favorite one is using a vibrator on you. For himself he loves using a vibrating buttplug.

•Unfair (Teasing)

Definitely unfair. He's really into edging. But once you beg him to stop he'll happily obliged.

•Volume

Normal amount of volume. He's not extremely loud. Mainly just grunts and some moans.

•Wild (Are they animalistic)

Very much so, but not all the time. It depends if y'all are roleplaying and what yall are roleplaying.

•X Ray (What's in their pants)

7 Inches in length but slim. Its the same color as his skin and he has some "spikes" like the one his his back. It doesn't hurt at all and it gives you more sensation.

•Yearning (High or low sex drive)

Pretty high. If he's depressed then it's quite low and he's kinda embarrassed by that. But you're by his side and reassures him it's okay.

•Zzz

He typically stays awake if it's during the day. But if it's late at night he'll stay awake for some minutes before finally falling asleep.

#helluva boss #cross posted on wattpad #helluva boss x reader #blitz x reader #blitzo x reader #blitzø x reader #blitz #blitzo #blitzø #blitz x reader smut #blitzo x reader smut #blitzø x reader smut #abc of intimacy #no use of y/n

240 notes · View notes

noirvouzzz · 7 months ago

Text

Sunday Morning

Pairing: Campbell Bain x fem!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: After spending the weekend outside St. Jude's, you return to the asylum, excited to see Campbell and give him a small present you got him at a record store. However, when you walk into his room, you find him in the middle of masturbating.

Warnings: Caught male masturbation, implied non-virgin!reader, virgin!campbell, making out, (slight) hair pulling, dry humping, boob sucking, handjob, blowjob, mention of rough oral, kind of public? (they're in an asylum so idk), aftercare, fluff.

Word count: 3.7 k

Author's note: Hi there, it's admin Kyra! I wanted to start by letting you know that English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any mistakes. And I haven't written a fic in forever, so bear with me. I tried to make Campbells dialogues sound like his accent, but keep in mind that I'm not Scottish so I don't know if it's right :'). Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!! :D

You waltzed into the asylum door, holding your backpack tightly as you looked around the place. It seemed surreal, but you were kind of happy to be back. After getting a weekend pass, you thought they'd have to drag you back to this place, but living there for the past few months made the asylum feel like home. You skipped through the corridors, excited to find Campbell and tell him about the little record shop that you visited on your free weekend. You had picked up a small gift for him — a simple vinyl record keychain. While it wasn't extravagant, your budget had limited your options, and you couldn't wait to give it to him anyway. Something that you hadn't expected was missing him so much. Seeing him every day made the absence of his presence over the last two days feel oddly unfamiliar. And, walking to the common room, you couldn't help but wonder whether he missed you too. You tried to anticipate his reaction to your early return since you were supposed to come back after dinner, yet ended up deciding to do it a few hours before schedule. But, where could he be? He wasn't at the radio station because you could hear Francine's voice announcing the next song, and he definitely wasn't in the common room where you were standing. Maybe he was in his shared room, but that would be out of character for him. He wasn't the type to isolate himself in his bedroom, especially not in the middle of the afternoon. You thought that he could be playing the guitar, or he could have got a day pass and not be in the asylum at all. However, you decided to stop overthinking and just check his room; if he wasn't there, you'd just wait for him to return. Approaching the door, a fluttering sensation started filling your stomach while you held the wrapped keychain in your hand. You caught the sound of distant breathy groans and tried to peek through the small window, but the blinds were pulled down. Perhaps he was sleeping, but you still wanted to surprise him, so you pushed the door open and walked inside.

Your eyes widened, seeing the scene that was unfolding before you. The room was quite dark, only being illuminated by a little ray of sunlight that peeked through the closed curtains. Campbell was sitting on his bed, his cheeks pink and his mouth slightly open as he let out heavy, sharp breaths. His back was leaning against the headboard, which would make little squeaky sounds whenever he moved. Your eyes travelled down to his hands. His left one resting on his lower stomach, twitching slightly, and his right one moving up and down under his boxers, palming his cock before stroking it in slow and long motions. Then, Campbell's gaze met yours. He jumped and quickly removed his hand from his underwear, before pulling up his trousers and draping the blanket over his body.

“Lass!” He exclaimed and took an anxious breath. “ye're early.” Campbell mumbled with a mortified look on his face. His shaky arms tightly held the blanket to his chest.

“Oh! So-Sorry I'll leave.” You let out, not knowing what else to do in this situation. Your cheeks were also pink now, and, as much as you wanted to turn around and disappear, your body wasn't responding.

“Fergus sneaked oot… for the day, and I didn't think ye'd be comin' until dinner, so…” His eyes moved to your hand, and he tilted his head. “What's that?”. You looked at the present and cleared your throat. With all this situation, you almost forgot about it. “What?… Oh… I got you something.” He leaned forward slightly and smiled.

“Aw, really? Yer so lovely.”

This was weird; should you just give it to him? The most normal thing to do would be to come back later, but you had been dying to see his reaction ever since you bought it. You awkwardly approached the bed and sat on the edge, handing him the gift without touching his hands. He eagerly took it and began breaking the wrapping paper with his still shaky fingers. Once the broken pieces of paper were scattered around the bed, he held the little keychain and looked at it with a huge smile on his face. “F-For the radio station keys” you quietly explained, looking at him. “Do you like it?”

“It’s brilliant; I love it! I'd hug ye right noo, but I haven't washed ma hands.” He responded, looking at you with a big happy smile. He loved it, and his excitement made you want to hug him too.

“I don't care, c’mere.” You opened your arms, and he quickly leaned forward and embraced you, holding you tightly while softly shaking you around.

“Ye're too sweet!” He told you as he nuzzled the crook of your neck. His fingers started tracing circles on your back, which filled your stomach with butterflies. Campbell had always been clingy and touchy, it wasn't unusual for him to hug you or caress you. But you had just caught him jerking off, and you couldn't deny you liked the sight.

“Ye didnae have to get me anything.” He moved his face in front of yours and placed his left hand on your cheek. “I know, but I wanted to.” His thumb started brushing your cheek, and your breath got caught in your throat. Even though he was usually a bundle of nerves and energy, he was trying to be gentle and caring, as if he didn't want to scare you away.

“Sorry for interrupting you." You joked in an attempt to make the whole situation less weird, but it didn’t help at all, as regret filled your whole body when that sentence came out of your mouth. You should've shut up and avoided acknowledging what you saw, acting as if it never happened and never mentioned it again — or at least that's what you wished you would've done. But it was hard to avoid talking about the only thing that was on your mind when he hugged you, when he rubbed his hands on your back, and when you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Oh, dinnae remind me,” he chuckled. "Sorry ye had to see that.” “It's fine; it was just kind of... unexpected.” He looked away and smiled.

“It was embarrassin’, ah'm still embarrassed.” “Don't be; you looked kind of hot.” You let out without thinking and felt your cheeks burning. You didn't know why you said that; maybe you just wanted him to feel better. He obviously did look hot, that was true, but you would've never said it to his face. You usually tried to be more subtle, with some innocent flirting here and there, never like this. He smiled, lifting his eyebrows. “Ye're sae mean.” His gaze shifted to your lips. “Teasin' me when Ah'm... like this.” He laughed quietly and briefly looked away. Your lips parted after you licked them, and your heart started thundering in your chest. “I mean, it was a good sight.” He lightly pressed his thumb against your lower lip, softly playing with it. “Ye didnae even let me finish before breakin' into ma room.” His hand held your chin and brought you closer. “I didn't break into-” You tried to finish your sentence, but the feeling of Campbell's mouth on yours interrupted you. He placed a quick kiss on your lips and moved away instantly. “Shit— Ah'm sorry.” He said quietly, his voice barely a whisper, “I wasn't thinkin'.” Campbell looked down awkwardly, he seemed more embarrassed about the sudden kiss than about you catching him in the middle of pleasuring himself. You let out a chuckle and took his arm, pulling him closer again. “Shut up.” He looked at you with a puzzled expression, and you kissed his lips again, wrapping his arm around your waist and making him press you onto his body. He moved his free hand to the back of your head, his fingers scratching your hair as you intertwined your arms around his neck.

You kept kissing for longer, lightly brushing your tongue against his lips, feeling his breath getting huskier and his grip squeezing you tighter. His kisses were a bit sloppy, you could tell that he was nervous and that he hadn’t done much kissing before, well, you knew that. He had shamelessly told you plenty of times how he couldn’t wait to get discharged to go to some party and lose his virginity. He wanted to get drunk with his friends, meet a pretty girl to get her a drink, and take her home. And he was sweet about it, making endless unrealistic plans of spoiling that girl, taking her on holidays to the beach, and making her the happiest woman in the world. You had always fantasized about being that girl, wishing that he would see you the way you did, and getting a bit sad every time he talked about having to find her when you were right there, waiting. But now you were kissing him, and he was kissing you back. Leaning onto the bed, resting his back on the headboard, and pulling you against him.

Campbell hesitantly bit your lower lip, delicately sucking it into his mouth and trying not to hurt you, while you placed your hand on his chest.

“Y'okay?” He whispered after separating for a moment. He was still playing with your hair as he looked at you with his big brown eyes, eyebrows furrowing in worry. “Mhm.” You licked your lips and gave him a small smile. “Are you?” “Aye.” He smiled back and leaned in to kiss you again. Campbell began to feel more confident, moving his hand up and down your waist and giving little caresses with his long fingers. His tongue was exploring your mouth, and his hand started sliding down your side and lingering on your lower half. You knew he craved to touch you, but he was too nervous to make a move. So you took his hand and moved it to your ass, which he instantly squeezed whilst he held your hair tighter.

You moved closer, sitting on his lap and sliding your hands under his striped T-shirt, sensing his skin quivering beneath your fingertips. Campbell pulled your head back by your hair and moved his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking, sending shivers down your spine. A little moan escaped your lips when he started nibbling your skin, which caused him to make his hold tighter. His eager lips released a soft groan as he pushed his hips up unconsciously, his body aching for some kind of friction to relieve the pain between his legs. Your hand began sliding down his abdomen, resting on his lower stomach while tracing your fingers along his waistband. The more you moved with him and pressed your thighs against his legs, the wetter your soaked panties became. You couldn't shake the mental image of him touching himself. You wanted to feel him, to get your hand under his pants, and make him squirm to your touch. But this was his first time, and you were still in an asylum after all; going further was way too risky, but it was also so really tempting. As you kissed passionately, your bodies kept moving in sync, hips pressing firmly and rubbing against each other, making you both struggle to suppress the escalating urge to moan. “…can I?” you murmured quietly, your fingers playing with the elastic of his pants while he moved to look at you with an amused expression. “Really?” His breath got caught in his throat, and he quickly nodded enthusiastically, “Aye, o' course.” While your gaze remained fixed on his face, your hand made its way to his groin, pausing there for a moment. “You sure?” You asked again. Campbell tucked your hair behind your ear. “Aye, please,” he responded eagerly, “but ye dinnae have to do anythin' if ye dinnae want to.” From his nose down to his neck, you planted soft kisses that turned into gentle sucking, causing small moans to escape his kiss-swollen lips. You then moved your hand to his crotch, pressing and palming it in a slow, rhythmic motion. With a long sigh, he squeezed your ass, his fingers sliding under your shirt to caress your skin. Heavy breaths escaped him as his digits toyed with the hem of your bra. “Can I touch ye? Please?” he requested breathlessly. You nodded towards his neck, feeling his hand slip beneath your bra, cupping your boob, and tracing circles with his thumb around your hard nipple. While you continued kissing his neck, you unbuttoned his jeans, and, with a lift of his hips, he helped you slide them down to his knees. Campbell held the bottom of your shirt and glanced at you, silently seeking your consent to take it off. Once more, you nodded, raising your arms for him to swiftly remove the shirt and admire your body. “Yer so beautiful.” He whispered softly and began gently caressing your sides, his fingertips gliding over your skin as they returned to your bra. You gently stroked him through his boxers, moving slowly, sensing the tension in his muscles building. Gasping in your ear, he fumbled with his hands, the movement becoming sloppier as his fingers trembled slightly. He brushed them under the hook of your bra, locking eyes with you while you nodded once more. Your bra loosened, and he slid it down your arms, pausing to meet your gaze briefly before returning to fondle your breasts whilst planting kisses from your neck down to the curve of your collarbones. Moving to your cleavage, Campbell's tongue brushed its way to your nipple. He grasped your breast with his big hand and sucked you into his mouth, flicking his tongue and letting out sharp breaths.

“Is that okay?” he asked gently, looking up at you with a caring expression. "Yeah,” you whimpered, and he smiled before going back to sucking on your nipples. He was getting harder under your hand, wet spots forming on his boxers as you slowly palmed him. You were being painfully subtle, moving slowly and teasing him, enjoying the sound of his eager sighs and groans. So, with a tender touch, you slipped your fingers beneath his underwear, gently tracing along his lower abdomen without moving any further. “God, lass, ye're killin' me,” he whined, breathing heavily against your chest, “please, jist touch me already.” Amused by his needy attitude, you decided to cease the teasing, planting a sweet kiss on the top of his head and removing his boxers. Looking at his arousal, you nervously bit your lip, your gaze switching between his hard cock and his hungry eyes. You took a deep breath and spat on your palm, and a sharp gasp from Campbell echoed at the sight. Your hand inched towards his erection, fingers brushing the underside of its length, provoking a responsive twitch to your touch. You softly held him, circling around the head, rubbing some spit and precum on it, and gliding your fingers along his sensitive slit.

Campbell quickly turned into a whimpering mess, attempting to stifle his moans while you barely even touched him. As your grip tightened slightly, moving up and down his shaft, his rhythmic breathing hitched, his body melting under your touch when you started going faster. “Mmm… Jesus,” he whimpered, his hand trembling as it reached for your neck, caressing it lazily.

“Is that good?” you asked with a cheeky smile. His glazy eyes fell on yours, his lips parting slightly. “Mhm,” he whined, “it feels so good.” He jerked his hips in a slow rhythm, gently thrusting into your hand and panting with each motion. “Really?” you responded in a playful tone, spitting on his cock again to keep your movements smooth. “Want it to feel better?” Campbell’s eyes lit up, and he nodded almost desperately. His words caught in his throat; all he managed to respond was a faint “Please,” uttered almost silently. You scooted down from his lap, now kneeling between his shaky legs while you set your hair behind your ears. His mouth dried when he felt you placing a kiss on his tip. Moving quickly, he brushed your hair away from your face — putting it in a makeshift ponytail — and a low groan escaped him when he felt your breath on his skin, his cock twitching against your tongue as you brushed it up his side. Then, you made contact with his tip, swirling your tongue around the head and dipping it into his slit. You placed your hand on his hip, balancing yourself and finally letting him into your mouth.

You began slowly, sucking gently and moving your head up and down while glancing up at him. He was admiring you, his slightly open mouth letting out grunts and sharp breaths when he ran his fingers through your hair. After a few minutes, you started bobbing your head in deeper motions, taking most of his length into your mouth and feeling it hitting the back of your throat. The room's silence was broken by Campbell's breathy moans and the wet sounds of your choking and slurping.

At that moment, everything about you appeared beautiful to him — your cheeks softly hollowing around his cock, the saliva running down your chin from your swollen lips, and your pretty watery eyes. With his free hand, he was using his thumb to gently dry your tears while using the other to guide your head, urging it to move faster. He was holding back, resisting the urge to hold your head and start fucking your throat, but he wanted to be gentle with you and let you take the lead, knowing that you had more experience than him and you definitely knew what you were doing. He wasn’t going to last much longer anyway; the feeling of your mouth and tongue all over his cock was too intense for him.

“Ahh… Ah'm gonna…” he whimpered, his eyes shut and his hand starting to grip your hair when his whole body tensed up. You pulled him out of your mouth, still jerking him off. “Are you gonna come?” You teased him and kept stocking him quickly as he moaned, “Mmm… Aye, please… ahh” “Come for me, darling.” You groaned, letting him pound your hand until thick strands of come splattered over your palm and his shirt. Your hand kept moving up and down through his orgasm, slowing down until he collapsed onto the headboard with a little smile on his face, taking a moment to catch his breath and recover. “Ah… thank you” Campbell purred and opened his eyes. He glanced at his clothes, letting out a chuckle. “What a mess.” He murmured under his breath, removing his T-shirt and using it to wipe your chin, hand, and himself before planting a soft kiss on your lips. “You’re so gross,” you laughed, “could've washed my hands.” “No, ye're no goin' anywhere." He threw his T-shirt on the floor and pulled you into a hug, holding you and eagerly placing a bunch of soft kisses over your face. “Yer so perfect.” "Relax, Campbell,” you grinned, and he continued squeezing you into his arms. “I cannae,” he cheered and kissed you again. “Cannae believe this just happened." “Okay, let’s calm down." When he loosened his grip, you drew him onto your body, cradling him while he rested his head against your bare chest. His pounding heart began to gradually slow down, and his embrace was no longer crashing you, so you covered yourselves with the blanket and kissed his forehead. “How are you feeling?” you asked, and he looked at you. “Brilliant, Ah'm gonna remember this day forever,” he grinned and started caressing your arm. “Ah'm gonna remember the keychain, Ah'm gonna remember you coming through the door, Ah'm gonna remember yer pretty face…”

With a smile, you held onto him, watching as he continued ranting and rubbing your skin with his long fingers. And then, you heard the sound of the radio echoing through the corridor's speakers.

Up until that point, a stream of uninterrupted music had been playing. However, when Francine announced the final song, Campbell let out a sigh and buried his face against your shoulder. Despite not wanting to acknowledge it, you knew that as soon as the show ended, the corridors would become crowded with patients and nurses. Dinner was about to start, and Isabel wouldn’t hesitate to walk in the room and drag you both if you weren’t there. “We should get dressed,” you said, and he whined, squeezing tightly, “Come on, we’ll miss dinner." “Ah'm really cosy,” he protested, nuzzling your neck. "Dinnae wanna move." “Wanna get in trouble? You’ll miss your cocoa,” you responded, giggling and nudging his arm. He shook his head without looking up. “Get up then.” Rising from the bed, Campbell began to get dressed, throwing on his colour-block hoodie and jeans. You, too, put your top back on and retrieved his dirty T-shirt from the floor. “You’re never getting the stains out,” you teased before tossing it into the laundry basket. “I dinnae care,” he responded and walked to you, placing his hand on your cheek, “it was so worth it." You smiled, he pecked your lips one last time. He took the keychain, adding it to his key, and placed them in his pocket. Then, he took your hand while opening the door. “Ready?” he asked, as he placed a kiss on your knuckles. “Yeah, let’s go.” Campbell gave your hand a squeeze and cheerfully walked you out of the room. “Ach, I nearly forgot! How'd yer weekend go, then?” He asked, lovingly gazing at you while waiting to hear all of your adventures outside the asylum. When you decided to return to the asylum before you initially intended to, you could've never expected for any of this to happen. However, as Campbell led you through the corridors with the happiest smile on his face, you realized that you had made the right choice, and you would not change it for anything.

This is the first fic i've written in ages so I hope you liked it. If you have any prompts for Campbell fics x reader fics let me know and ill take a look :). Like, rb, and follow if you enjoyed it, and thanks for reading!

#takin over the asylum #takin over the asylum fanfic #campbell bain #campbell bain x reader #campbell bain x fem!reader #campbell bain fic #campbell bain fluff #campbell bain smut #im in love with campbell #david tennant #david tennant characters #young david tennant

164 notes · View notes

boom-butterflyeffect · 25 days ago

Text

FUCK I accidentally fucked up my Chris post and the ask got deleted, but HERE'S THAT

Chris Hartley NSFW Alphabet

A - Aftercare

What. A. Sweetheart. Chris makes sure you're all comfortable and taken care of, double checks everything, and absolutely showers you with attention and affection.

B - Body Part (His favourite body part on himself and you)

Tbh, I think hands for both. He loves how big and strong his hands are, and how, in comparison, yours are smaller. He thinks it's adorable. He loves holding your hands.

C - Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Chris loves the expressions and sounds you make when you cum, makes him feel like he's doing a good job.

D - Dirty Secret

He would be embarrassed and secretive about the fact that he has dirty fantasies about you.

E - Experience (How experienced he is)

I don't imagine him having a LOT of experience considering he's canonically considered the "nerd" of the group, but I don't think he'd be a total virgin either. I'm not sure.

F - Favorite position

I feel like he'd enjoy missionary or having you in his lap, your chests pressed together and just giving each other sweet kisses.

G - Goofy (Is he more serious in the moment?)

He's so silly, and will try to keep the mood light. Being too serious makes him feel a bit nervous/tense, so it's nice to joke around and feel relaxed, just having a good time!

H - Hair

It's fairly cleaned up, maybe just a little blond happy trail.

I - Intimacy

He's very intimate and romantic, and would want every time to be special and meaningful. He wants it all to be perfect, and gets nervous about the idea of things going wrong.

J - Jack off

I feel like he would not do it himself as often, but would REALLY like it when YOU jack him off.

K - Kink

Size difference!!! Bro is TALL!!!

L - Location

I feel like Chris would be more private, and keep sexual activity in the bedroom, maybe on the couch when it's just the two of you.

M - Motivation

Same as Mike, seeing you in his clothes, especially because of how much taller he is.

N - No (Hard limits)

Anything that could at all hurt you. Again, same as Mike, I feel like he wouldn't be too interested in anything on the more extreme side of kink.

O - Oral

More of a giver than a receiver, very much a service top who loves to know that you're feeling good.

P - Pace

I think he'd be more slow and gentle, taking his time and making sure everything is comfortable and feeling good.

Q - Quickie

I can't imagine Chris being a fan of quickies, I feel like sex is a lot about the intimacy for him, and quickies don't have that emotional aspect that he craves from it.

R - Risk

Not a lot of risk, Chris likes to keep things sweet and intimate.

S - Stamina

I do like the idea of like- lazy cuddle sex, I can't see him being like super riled up and going for ages.

T - Toys

I couldn't imagine Chris owning or using toys, tbh.

U - Unfair

He's a sweetheart and I stand by that. He jokes around and will playfully tease, or suggest the idea of teasing, but at the end of the day, making you feel good and making sure you both enjoy yourselves is his top priority.

V - Volume

He tries to stay quiet, you can usually just hear him panting and the occasional curse or whine under his breath.

W - Wild card (Random NSFW HC of my choosing)

He LOVES when you're on top of him, controlling the pace. He kinda likes the idea of giving you control, because then he knows whatever you're doing is feeling good, and he trusts you to make him feel good too.

X - X-ray (Size)

Again, like 7.5/8 inches, I do not really know what is realistic here, tbh.

Y - Yearning

I think he would not be as pent up as the others, but some days would just really crave the intimacy and the romance of it all, just wanting you in his arms.

Z - Zzz

He'd stay up and take care of you until YOU fall asleep first, giving you little forehead kisses and just cuddling and making sure you're comfortable, and that everything he did was okay and felt good, and he'd just whisper to you how beautiful you are. Only once you're asleep and he knows you feel happy and content, will he fall asleep.

THATS IT THANKS

thank you @z0mb1epuzzy helping me w these because it's 2 in the morning and i've been sat here staring at my phone like a fucking lemon trying to come up with this stuff

THE PERSON WHO SENT THE ASK FOR MATT, YOURS WILL BE NEXT!

#chris hartley #until dawn #smut #x reader #chris hartley x reader

55 notes · View notes

xpao-bearx · 2 years ago

Text

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!

Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!

I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!

Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland

Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide

After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.

You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?

Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.

And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?

You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...

Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.

God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?

But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!

Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.

It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.

Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.

You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.

And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.

You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?

"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.

"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.

The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.

You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.

You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.

"I'm right here for you, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.

"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."

"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."

"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."

Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.

He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.

"Hello..?"

"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.

A long, dreadful pause. And then:

"Fucking EXCUSE me?"

Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.

"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?

"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"

"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"

You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.

"Steven... It's Sunday."

Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.

"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."

"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."

You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"

"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"

"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"

"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."

Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.

He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.

"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.

Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?

He had everything to lose.

Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.

You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.

But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.

And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.

You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.

"Explain to me, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.

Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.

"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.

"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."

Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"

"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."

Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.

He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."

"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"

Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."

"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"

"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."

Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.

You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"

"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"

"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.

Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."

"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.

"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"

"Say what?"

"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.

'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.

But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.

"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."

"Steven, this is--"

"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."

"Summon the soup? What is happening--"

Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"

"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.

"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.

His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."

His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?

"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."

Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."

1K notes · View notes

mrsnancywheeler · 9 months ago

Text

the official w.i.p list

masterlist

disclaimer: asks get eaten sometimes, I don't get all of them and I'm so sorry for that. also I have so many requests that it's just inevitably going to take me a while to put the effort and thought necessary into each thing I write. I try to space out requests and my personal things I want to write so there's variety but sometimes I just want to write something in that moment so I will and it will get done faster. that being said I love your requests and asks so much and really just want to put the most effort I can into each story to make sure you feel like you for the bang for your buck yk. love you all 💋

𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖏𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘

the rest of the river

finnick x virgin!reader

finnick x reader x annie modern college!au

𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘: 𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

angst with fluff one-shot, reader with self-esteem issues

fluffy one-shot, finnick teaching reader to swim

finnick with reader who has an english accent

one-shot based off of 'slut!' by taylor swift

one-shot based off of 'she' by dodie

angst one-shot, reader thinks finnick is cheating

one-shot jealous!reader, fake dating and mutual pining tropes

notting hill au with smut

one-shot where reader is based off of the archer by taylor swift

✨smut✨ we'll see which of the two options I pick when I get here

fluffy, smutty part two of let me down easy

an angsty ANGSTY one-shot and like I can't even describe it the request is so good and sad and I'm just gonna drop this one on you guys without explanation 💋

one-shot, finnick x reader x annie reunite in district 13, a fluffy, smutty girlie

one-shot based off of mastermind by taylor swift

not to be dramatic but this might be the series after the river is done because it's a soulmate, royalty au request and since I've said finnick and his sweet girl are every lifetime maybe I'll just use this as an opportunity to explore them in said other lifetime 💋

one-shot where reader is taken by Capitol, forgets about finnick, but they were in their enemies to lovers arc

one-shot based off of paper rings by taylor swift

fluffy rivals to lovers type beat with drunk!reader

finnick x short!reader

angsty one-shot, eventual fluff, reader taken by Captiol, forgets everything, closed off, angry, and she's pregnant

pregnant!reader, district 13, angst bc she's scared the baby is someone involved in the trafficking, hurt/comfort things

one-shot based off of I think he knows by taylor swift

one-shot based off of national anthem by lana del ray

how to lose a guy in 10 days au

angsty one-shot, 'cheating' that's actually trafficking, reader gets reaped, breakups, finnick lies and says he's cheating to keep reader safe from snow

model!reader x finnick, hurt/comfort

coincidentally I had two asks about finnick being the one hijacked one right after the other so yeah we're definitely exploring that one

smut, finnick jerking off the picture of reader

finnick x mermaid!reader one-shot

finnick and reader who faints

finnick introducing reader to johanna

finnick x deaf!reader

oral fixation reader one-shot

finnick showing love through non-sexual intimacy

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair smut

84 notes · View notes

respectthepetty · 1 year ago

Note

Only friends is messy and I love the messy! But then I think about the other messy stuff that has yet to be messy but will be messy when it comes to light!

For example, Like is Sand still ‘helping’ Rays Dad? What with?

Wild Ass Theory -

RAY'S KARMA'S COMING!

ANON! You know I love a wild ass theory, yet I have none for Only Friends. The show feels normal to me, and not as unhinged as I need in order to make a wild ass theory but . . . @nothingsbetterthancoffee, I was answering this ask when your ask popped up

TLWR: Ray's dad is paying Sand to babysit Ray.

And Ray is gonna be really fucking LIVID when he finds out that Sand is working with his dad!

Because Sand is definitely helping the dad with something.

And Sand almost getting arrested to save Ray after he made a pact with Nick to move on makes me think that the something Ray's dad asked him was to make sure Ray doesn't end up in prison.

The dad is too busy to keep in eye on Ray, so he asked Sand to do it instead. Even though Sand has genuine feelings for Ray, the dad is paying him to keep an eye on his son.

Let me allow Dangerous Romance, where we also see the poor boy x rich boy dynamic, to explain this arrangement.

Get the poor boy who is close to the rich wild child to monitor him in exchange for money. It's a win win!

But remember just like his fellow Slut for Christ Kang, Ray is quick to throw out that his poor boy is, well, poor and by extension apparently a money grubbing whore.

So I'm pretty sure having a magical honeymoon stage

Only to find out that daddy is paying this whore to take care of you would really set Ray off.

And to add to this Wild Ass Theory - it'll be Ray's karma.

I'm not getting into the morality muddy waters about this. I'm not writing if any of this is right or wrong. Instead, let me present the facts:

Karma

Boston recorded his friends making out, used it to get Top to have sex with him since he was jealous of Mew, then threw it in Ray's face to ruin his chances with Sand.

And Nick recorded him having sex with Top, told Sand about it who told Ray, who then told Mew and now everyone hates Boston.

Play stupid games (record your friends in an intimate moment and use it for your advantage), win stupid prizes (your recorded tapes, plural with an "s", become your downfall).

Then there is Mew, our beautiful virgin who judges his rich boy friend who does drugs and his other slutty friend.

Who then gets *cheated on by a rich boy who does drugs and sleeps around, then proceeds to do drugs and attempt to enter his slut era. (I'd argue Top did NOT cheat, but that's not what this post is about).

Ultimately, you will become the one you hate.

And now here we are with Ray. Raymond. My Ray of Sunshine. Fellow Slut for Christ. The love of my life! Who constantly degrades Sand by throwing money at him and calling him a whore.

Sand has tried to be a friend to Ray.

And yet . . .

Ray has made it where they can't be friends.

There are twenty million instances where Sand has told Ray that Ray treats Sand like a driver, a drinking buddy, a cook, a therapist, a nurse, and plenty more, but never a friend. There are fifty million instances where Sand has commented on Ray throwing his money at Sand to avoid acknowledging his fuck ups. Then there are another hundred million instances of Ray implying or directly stating that he thinks Sand is a whore.

So wouldn't it funny if this friend group is actually getting confronted with THEMSELVES?

Boston got hurt by the exact same thing he hurt others with. Mew got hurt by all the things he judged others about and is now turning into that.

And Ray is about to experience his own self-fulfilling prophecy because if you speak of the devil whore enough times, he will eventually appear.

#only friends #only friends the series #wild theory time #this is ray's karma #what goes around comes around

147 notes · View notes

irmawrites · 3 months ago

Text

Night encounter

Summary: Living in Dragonstone, claiming a dragon, it all seemed surreal to Ulf. Having a Targaryen princess in his bed all to himself even more so.

Rating: Explicit [18+], MDNI.

Pairing: Ulf the White x Targaryen!Reader (appearance isn’t specified, she's his niece but she could be Rhaenyra's daughter or Alicent's daughter, it’s all up to you)

TW: smut with a tiny bit of plot, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, slight degradation, corruption kink, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, afab reader, not proofread.

Word count: 2017

Author’s note: hi everyone! Not too long ago I received the following request: "I was wondering if you would do one where Ulf is infatuated with the daughter of Rhaenyra and Harwin after meeting her after he claims Silverwing and could it possibly progress into smut?". To say that I was delighted to receive a request for Ulf would be an understatement. I am literally obsessed with this character and I really wanted to write something for him <3 HOWEVER I am incredibly sorry it's filthy, it's inappropriate, honestly I'm almost ashamed I wrote it ahaha

I should probably mention that English is not my mother tongue, so please excuse my grammar mistakes!

From the first moment he saw you, Ulf knew he had to have you. Such a sweet little thing, all soft smiles and happy giggles. A real ray of sunshine. He and you may have been related, but you couldn't have been more different. Uncle and niece like the moon and the sun. Where he was rude and boorish, you were polite and gentle. Where his lack of manners and unkempt appearance worked against him, your tact and polished looks made you stand out among all the inhabitants of Dragonstone.

But while he appreciated your sensitivity and gentleness, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like when he finally robbed you of your innocence.

And a little voice in the back of his mind kept telling him that it was just a facade, a role you only played in public. You weren't the perfect princess you pretended to be, of that he was almost certain. After all, hadn't he noticed your eyes wandering to his fingers several times while he licked off the meat juices that stained them? And then there was that one evening, during a meal, when your hand had wandered to his thigh. You had gently brushed his crotch, where a bulge was already stretching the linen of his breeches, without even looking at him, too busy laughing with Jacaerys. The older man remembered clearly how he had had to excuse himself in a hurry, feigning sudden fatigue and retreating to the chambers assigned to him. That night he had imagined your lips wrapped around his impossibly hard member, your silver curls between his fingers and your eyes locked with his as he pressed your nose against his pelvis, forcing you to take more, always more. He had come with a loud grunt, painting his palm white, and then swore he would have you. It was almost a matter of life and death for him at that point.

Perhaps the Seven had heard his plight, if they existed, for they soon offered him everything he wanted on a silver platter.

Claiming Silverwing was the achievement of a lifetime, and yet it seemed like a dull moment when he opened the door to his bedroom and found himself face to face with the woman he had been lusting after for weeks. Dressed in an almost transparent silk nightgown, you looked like one of his heated dreams. Instinctively, he even pinched the skin at the crook of his elbow to make sure it was all real and you weren't a figment of his wild imagination. "I couldn't sleep," he heard you say, your voice almost shy, "with this storm." Oh, but he knew that your nocturnal visit had nothing to do with the lightning that tore across the sky, or the thunder that shook the walls of the fortress. If you were there, it was simply because you too were unable to resist the tension between the two of you for a single minute longer. "Come in," his hand automatically came to rest on your waist to guide you inside, "I wouldn't want to keep a princess waiting".

If asked, Ulf wouldn't have been able to explain how he ended up in bed with your body pressed against his. Maybe it was you who had taken his hand and made him lie down beside you. Or maybe it was he who had persuaded you to slip into his arms, into his sheets, to find some welcome comfort. Everything seemed a blur now, especially as your buttocks pressed against his crotch.

You wiggled your hips. Maybe accidentally, maybe consciously, he didn't know, but the effect was the same. He could feel the warmth of your body under the layers of fabric, and he was desperate to show you what happened to women like you in the arms of men like him. It felt like a punishment, forcing himself to remain chaste and not give in to his desires in such a situation. Not to touch you when you were so close to him and his length was already so painfully hard.

He moved his lips to your ear, his breath caressing your skin. His hands slid down your chest and he let his thumbs lightly caress the two small, hardened buds. "Tell me to stop," he whispered as his fingers slid lower and lower, grazing the hem of your underwear in the hollow where your thigh met your hip, "tell me to stop if that's not what you want". "That's exactly what I want," your voice sounded like a breathless moan as your hand rested on his, as if to encourage him to give you more, " and I want you to continue."

The idea that he could take what he wanted, do what he wanted, made his head spin.

Between your legs, his fingers found your wet folds. "You're soaking wet," he breathed as he traced your slit from your entrance to that sensitive spot that sent shivers down your entire body, "we've barely started and you're already soaking wet." It was almost inconceivable that a beautiful, delicate princess like you would agree to give herself to a gruff old man like him. "How does it feel, here?", he asked as he kissed your neck, your back still pressed against his torso as his index finger circled your little pearl beneath the fabric of your underwear. "It's... It feels good", your voice was choked, a broken moan, "warm". Ulf gave an approving grunt. "And here?", his tone became more authoritative, and soon two of his fingers were inside you, stretching you just right. Tired of waiting, he barely gave you time to get used to the new sensation before he started moving back and forth, leaving you breathless. "Answer me". He could already feel you clenching around him, the friction against your inner walls something you'd never felt before. "I can feel your fingers inside me," you finally managed to answer, and to reward you he pressed a little harder against that sensitive spot that made you see stars, "I feel... full." He couldn't help smiling against the soft skin of your neck. "Don't worry, sweetheart," as if to back up his words, he pressed his fingers impossibly deeper, burying them in your wet warmth, "you'll feel even fuller soon."

He withdrew them almost immediately with an obscene noise. That would leave you empty, he knew, but he also knew that he wanted you to come around another part of his body for the first time, and not just on his fingers.

"Undress," the older man ordered, pointing vaguely with his chin at the little bit of clothing you were wearing. A satisfied smile appeared on his lips as you stood completely naked before him, kneeling between his thighs. "Such a pretty body," his voice sounded almost distracted, his fingers busy sliding down your sides as if to show you were to his liking, "a pretty mouth too, I wonder what it would look like around my cock." He saw you bite your lower lip before finally answering, emboldened: "Perhaps I could show you." Your hands rested first on his chest, brushing against the linen of the tunic he wore for the night. Then they slid lower, much lower, replaying a scene Ulf had seen a hundred times in his dreams. Your fingers undid the drawstring that held his breeches together and he had to remind himself not to make you pick up the pace, to give him what he wanted right then and there.

A curse escaped him as your hand finally wrapped around his manhood. It looked so big, massive, between your forefinger and thumb, which couldn't quite touch. And when your lips finally brushed the head, where he was already weeping for you, he threw his head back on the heavy silk pillows. It took all his strength and resilience not to close his eyes from the pleasure he felt from your back and forth movements and the wet warmth of your mouth. "You're doing so well," he growled as his hand made its way to the back of your head, finding refuge in your silver locks, "sucking my cock so well, like the perfect little whore you are." Around his member he could feel the vibrations of your audible moan. It seemed you liked it when people didn't really treat you like the princess you were supposed to be, but more like a cheap slut from a seedy pillow house. A discovery that couldn't have made him happier.

The vision was royal, the sensation divine. He felt like a king, he felt like a god, with a dragon under his feet and a Targaryen princess pleasuring him with her mouth. He had everything that he had ever wished for and yet he wanted more, needed more.

Bloody greed.

His grip on the back of your head tightened, forcing you back a few inches. His gaze fell on your red, swollen lips, glistening with spit and something else that testified to your sinful actions. You smiled at him, obviously proud of yourself, and he couldn't help but kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. "On all fours," he ordered, right against the skin of your neck, his voice hoarse with desire. The order may have been short, the tone a little awkward, hurried, but you understood immediately what he was trying to tell you. With your face now pressed into the pillows and your hips raised, Ulf could hardly believe that this was your first time, and yet. One of his hands cupped his still aching manhood while the other gripped the flesh at your waist. Captivated by the sight of his member disappearing into your wet heat, his eyes couldn't leave the spot where the two of you were joined for a single second. "Fuck," he groaned as he gave you time to adjust to his presence, "such a tight cunt." Despite his vast experience, he had never tasted, never felt anything like this in his dull life of Flea Bottom brothel escapades and quick embraces with nameless prostitutes. Perhaps it was because he was now living with real royalty, or perhaps it was because your exchange was different, more intimate, almost affectionate.

He withdrew almost completely, the friction against your inner walls agonisingly delicious. Your juices had left his member soaked and glistening, a sight that drove him deeper into you this time, the headboard hitting the wall with a thud. "M... more," you begged as he pulled out again, your voice like a broken moan that made his head spin with desire and possessiveness. The older man was more than happy to comply, quickening the pace of his thrusts. Soon the pleasure became too strong, too great to articulate anything coherent. He wanted to tell you how good you felt, how perfect you really were around him, but the words remained stuck in his throat and only grunts managed to break through the barrier of his half-open lips. But you weren't any better. Beneath him you were a mess of moans and gasps, your fingers gripping the sheets tightly. You were close, he could tell, you had grown impossibly tight around him, and he was tired of making you wait. So, in an act of mercy, he let his own fingers slip between your thighs to briefly rub your pearl and finally, finally, push you over the edge. He joined you almost immediately, his approaching climax accelerated by the rhythmic clenching of your walls around him.

It was probably foolish to pour into you with white ropes, to fill you in a different way this time. But when exactly had Ulf ever been responsible? The sight was simply mesmerising, the mingled evidence of your release flowing from your still clenching hole as he withdrew. So divine that he could hardly tear his eyes away. And as you pressed against him, seeking the warmth of his arms, your noses brushing together in an achingly tender touch, he mused that he was prepared to do many more foolish things to keep a thing as sweet as you by his side.

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #hotd x reader #ulf the white #ulf the white x reader #ulf the white smut #ulf x reader #ulf the white x you #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon

105 notes · View notes

changbunnies · 11 months ago

Text

After The Rain With You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Farm Boy!Changbin x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, fluff, initially intended to be light angst but i got carried away with emotion like i did with the minho fic lol, forbidden love (i cannot help myself with this trope it seems), ending is sad / bittersweet (i'm sorry !!) but also leaves hope that they'll live happily ever after ;v;

♡ Word Count: 13.9k (this was intended to be under 10k but here we are lmao oops)

♡ Summary: Y/N, a princess bored and lonely, craved nothing more than to experience the world outside of the familiar 4 walls of her bedroom in the castle. Conjuring her bravery, she snuck out of the castle walls, eventually meeting a man that would change her life forever. Changbin, a local farmer who didn't realize she's the princess, formed a close relationship with her that ineveitably turned into a budding romance. But now, met with her last moments of freedom, she prepares herself to have one final sweet moment with him before they are torn apart.

♡ Warnings: references to a parent being deceased, discussions of feeling trapped and alone, strict toxic parenting

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): reader is not a virgin during the smut scene in this but changbin is the only person they've ever had sex with, bin vaguely has a southern accent / speech style because thats how i pictures farmers talking lol, petnames (sweetheart, darlin', gendered language such as good girl), lots of kissing, biting / marking, loose dom/sub dynamics, nipple play, oral (f rec), unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie, pretty self indulgent ngl lol

♡ Notes: i got the title from a short pokemon novel, iykyk. this was intended to be finished before the new year, but instead it's my first fic of 2024 and i hope you enjoy!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Freedom; something simple in definition, but not in practice, those in high positions of power always holding it out of the reach of those below them who yearn for it. It's intangible in concept, something you will never be able to see with your own eyes or grab with your own hands, but it was something you always yearned for, more than anything– and in the short time you had it, it was pure bliss.

You never considered yourself a rebellious girl, always dutifully listening to your elders, commiting manners and elegance to memory, never questioning the role you'd one day be made to accept. But in the past year, you'd found yourself having a bit of a rebellious streak– in secrecy, of course, because you knew very well that there'd be consequences to pay should your mother find out.

It's not that you ever hated being the princess, or that you dreaded the responsibility you held to your kingdom– you just wish you'd been given more freedoms. Freedom to speak your mind, freedom to feel the grass beneath your feet and the sun's rays on your skin whenever you wished, freedom to explore, to make mistakes, to learn and grow and love the way everyone else in the world but you seemed allowed to do.

For years, there'd been a blindspot in the castle's defenses, a small patch of broken wall that guards were never ordered to defend or monitor closely, as the country had not seen war or received threat from neighboring countries in your entire lifetime.

"We'll repair it someday," your father always said before his passing, though it never came to fruition. It was not because he passed that the wall never received construction, but simply because your parents always preferred to delegate funds to something more pressing than a relatively small breach in the outer walls of the castle.

Sure, the hole was unsightly when noticed, but it was outside line of sight for the townsfolk, and much too small to accommodate an army through– one person at a time, maybe two if you squeezed, could fit through at most. Apart from that, the fact that your father never used taxes to pay towards selfish things such as unnecessary castle repair gained your family high favor, with most commoners considering your father to be the kindest king the country had in centuries.

During the time your father was still alive, you often walked the streets as a family, talking to the commoners regularly and enjoying your time out on the town together, and you remember how it always felt like you were as normal a family as any other, too young to realize there was any difference between you and them.

You can still remember how your mother smiled then, when she held your hand while your father held the other, the townsfolk always doting on you, and how cheerfully your every day had been spent. Your mother was quite different now; she never smiled anymore, and when she did it felt so.. forced, sad.

Like your father took a piece of her joy with him when he went, and she was unable to reclaim it. And it was at that time, when she took on all of the king's responsibilities by herself, that she'd begun to treat you differently. Stricter on your studies, never allowing you to step foot outside the castle, shutting down any talk of letting you out on the town or interacting with anyone outside the castle's walls.

And now the whole kingdom, who considered you to be the country's most beloved princess, could scarcely remember what you looked like; and even those who could remember would likely no longer recognize you. You were a child when you were last allowed outside, and now you were a grown woman, still confined by her mother's strict rules.

Despite the reclusive life you were forced into, many of the commoners still thought of you fondly– at least according to word of mouth from the castle's maids and knights.

You were the daughter to a king and queen that were practically revered as saints, and many imagined that the reason you were always holed up within the castle was because you were studying dutifully, imagining that when you came to power someday, you'd be just as benevolent, kind, and intelligent of a ruler as your father was.

You certainly intended to live up to those expectations, because as stated, you don't hate being the princess by any means. You recognize that you have privilege, responsibility, and that people put their pride and faith in you even now, before you've ever even come close to touching the throne. But all that being said, it didn't stop your heart from wanting just a little bit more out of your life.

Simply put, you found it incredibly dull sitting inside the castle all day, the same lessons being reiterated day in and day out, as if you didn't already have them memorized by the age of 10. Eventually, your mother realized you had no further need for a tutor, and requested that the woman in charge of your education stop coming, but that didn't mean your afternoons suddenly became enjoyable; quite the opposite in fact.

The joy you initially held over no longer having to spend your afternoon listening to the same drivel you'd heard countless times from a pedantic old woman evaporated with the realization that even without a tutor to occupy for time, you'd still be stuck in the castle all day long. Your mother never permitted you to leave, even if you promised you'd stay close to the knights that would accompany you, pleaded with her to let you do something other than sitting inside all day.

But still, her stance on the matter never changed. You'd begun to resent her sentiments, to hate that you were stuck with nowhere to go and nothing to do. The country wasn't under any threat, your fathers death was an unfortunate accident, and as far as you knew you were well loved, so what did she need to be so protective for? Especially now, when you weren't even a child anymore; you just couldn't understand.

You’d spend your days staring out your window listlessly, wondering what the grass on the horizon would feel like beneath bare feet. It’s a shame that you don’t know; you were always scolded for taking your shoes off if you weren’t within your own room, and besides that, the ground is littered with dirt and cobblestone all the way up to the gates of the town, which you had never gone past.

Shouldn’t your youth be full of experiencing things like this? Why couldn’t you explore now and then settle down in the castle later in life? It didn’t feel fair that you were so clueless about the basic truths of the world, and instead had your brain filled to the brim with knowledge of etiquette and politics.

It was with those thoughts in mind that you planned to find the answers to all your questions and sate your endless curiosities by sneaking through the hole in the castle walls that had gone unattended to.

After the first time you successfully snuck out to experience all you’d been missing (which took months of diligent watch and preparation to ensure you wouldn’t be spotted from a distance by patrolling knights), you’d slowly made your way further and further away from the castle, testing the limits of how far you could make it each day, gauging how long it would take for someone to notice your absence.

To your delight, because you spent most of your days alone in your room, no one seemed to notice you’d ever been gone as long as you made it back before dinner was to be served. And so, you'd stay out until sunset, exploring the town you'd grown to only ever see from your window, making sure to wear the least expensive looking gown in your wardrobe, doing your best to blend in with the commoners.

Thankfully, the task was easier than you'd expected given that none of the townsfolk had seen you up close since you were a small girl. You were perhaps strange in behavior as compared to them, given how much you questioned what was around you, but certainly not one person suspected you were the princess– just a sheltered, perhaps eccentric, young woman.

As you became more comfortable, and got closer to the town gates with each passing day, your excitement would grow exponentially; the world beyond the gates was so foreign to you, even more so than the town itself had been. From your bedroom window, the fields that lied beyond the town gates appeared so miniscule, and you only knew what lied beyond because you’d been told about it, not because you’d seen it for yourself.

It was this determination to discover what lied beyond your limited world view that lead you to meet the man who'd come to hold your heart for the first time. You remember how your heart raced when you first approached the town gates, how your eyes darted to every corner to try to take in every minute detail.

The cobblestone became sparse, leaving nothing but dirt road to walk on, the wheels of countless carriages and horses hooves indented in the path, leading both to and away from town. You’d been told numerous times that beyond this point lies the farms that fueled the town with their food, and resources such as leather and wool to create clothing, blankets, and the upholstery on your furniture.

And for the first time in your entire life, you were about to see it all up close with your own eyes, instead of vaguely from your bedroom window.

You knew their work was vital to the prosperous existence of your country, and you’d always found yourself wanting to know what it was like, to learn about how the world works not from a dull lecture or written text, but to experience it yourself, to truly understand the lives of the people you would one day govern beyond what you’d been told.

To say you had a curious mind was perhaps an understatement; you were always full of curiosity about the world around you, but simply being told about the world wasn’t enough for you to be satisfied.

To experience with your own eyes, to feel with your own hands– that was what being alive was truly about, wasn’t it? You didn’t feel your life was meant to be spent wasting away in your room until the day you became useful.

If you spent your youth seeing the world, learning about it from your own lived experiences, wouldn’t that make you a better queen some day? To know the plight of the common man because you lived it for yourself?

That’s what you wanted– the freedom to explore, to learn, to grow, and when the time was right, you’d accept your duty gracefully, and play the role you were meant to. But until then, there was nothing more you wanted than to feel the earth beneath your feet, to understand what a blessing it truly is to feel the warmth of the sun beaming down on your skin, to learn what it is that makes life beautiful to live.

With a deep inhale to steady your racing heart, you took your first step outside the town gates, trying your best to not appear too nervous and draw undue attention to yourself. You conjured all the confidence you could muster into your steps, your short heels sinking into the pure dirt before you.

It was a clear spring day, the sun welcoming you warmly, as if confirming that this was a decision you were meant to make, that following your heart and exploring the lush earth is what your true purpose was.

You recall how different everything felt once you were fully outside the town– it was almost unbelievable how green, pretty and vibrant the outside looked when compared to the dull, monotonous grays and dirty browns you'd met with inside the town walls. And even the castle interior, while still pretty and not devoid of color like the town often seemed to be, still didn't compare to the nature that lied before you.

You saw children running through the grass without shoes, freely giggling as they play what you assume to be some sort of game, one you'd never had the chance to play. They were utterly carefree, and so full of life; how you wished you could be the same– just kick off your shoes and prance through the fields and the trees without a care in the world, with nothing to weigh you down. What a joy it must be, to live innocent and free, knowing nothing but laughter and love.

You took time to admire naturally growing flowers, to lean down to carefully caress the petals, to feel the grass on your fingertips since you’re much too scared to actually take your shoes off despite how bad you’d have liked to. Following the road, past the sprawling fields where the children play, you eventually came to the occupied farm lands, and it was there, just before the fields turned into seemingly endless forest, that you met him for the first time.

His was the last farm for you to observe, and it held a surprise that made you positively gasp in delight; animals! You'd always thought the farm animals you’d seen in your books looked so cute, and you always wanted to feel their fur or feathers, wondering if they were truly as soft or as coarse as they were described to you.

Was a sheep’s wool still soft before it was knit into a blanket, or woven into clothing? How did a chicken's feathers feel before they were stuffed into a pillow? It was something you were endlessly curious about.

However, you certainly knew better than to just waltz up to an animal that doesn't know you, and especially not one that is on someone else's land. So you settled for quietly observing them from outside the farm's sprawling gate, a huge smile on your face as you watched the animals graze.

Even at your distance, it was still the closest you'd ever been to an animal other than a horse, and you simply couldn't get over how cute and soft they looked. Sheep, cows, chickens, ducks– all impossibly cute, and how you wished you could go and hug them.

You propped your arms up on the wooden fence, resting your head against them as you simply watched. It was almost funny how something so simple and normal to someone else's everyday life could instill such joy and wonder with you. And that's when you saw him; a single man walking out from his quaint cottage towards the back of the land, attending to the animals and filling up what you assumed to be their feed troughs.

His home, you noticed, was put together the same way most of the town was– with stone and clay, a simple but well constructed wooden door, and a decent sized chimney on the left that you were well aware was necessary to funnel out smoke from fireplaces in homes such as his. And it fascinated you how his home could look so different from yours when it was comprised of the same materials.

When put down simply to its parts, there was nothing that separated the castle from a commoner’s home other than the sheer size of it. Your mother would often tell you not to compare yourself, or the splendor of the castle to that of commoners or their homes, but you never saw any harm in doing so.

You’re all human, and the only difference between you and them is that you were born into a royal family and they weren’t. You think she focuses too much on title, when to you title is worth nothing beyond a name. Still, while you recognize that while you aren’t different from anyone else in a biological sense, you are when it comes to status, and you wanted to use your privileged position for good when the time came.

That is another reason you wanted to see the country for yourself, to put yourself in the shoes of the people and understand them. How can you be a good queen someday if you understand nothing of how the world truly works, or if every decision is fed to you from someone else?

Really though you have to admit, apart from all the good reasons you had to sneak out, you equally had selfish ones. But was it so wrong to indulge your curiosity? You’ve tried many times to push aside your thoughts and to understand why you must stay solitary in the castle all day, but try as you might, this is all you want.

To see, to experience, to feel; why was it only wrong for you to want that, and not for anyone else? Even if you’re the princess, you should still be allowed basic human freedoms– that’s what you believe, anyways.

You lost yourself in thought for a time, simply staring out at the scene of the man caring for his animals in front of you. You wondered if he was happy doing this everyday; was it monotonous, or did he take pride in it? Did he love his animals, or were they strictly the avenue he'd taken to provide for himself?

You also wondered what you would be doing if you weren't the princess; would you be a farmer's daughter, spending all your days in the fields with the animals like he does? It was oddly fun to ponder on, to picture yourself leading a different life than one you'd led up to that point.

Maybe it was a form of escapism, and maybe you had more grievances with your upbringing than you'd let yourself believe at the time. Either way, a smile once again made its way to your lips as you pictured yourself feeling the fluffy wool of a sheep beneath your fingertips, as warm, soft, and comforting as a blanket in your imagination.

The man took notice of you after only a few moments, because realistically, how can he not notice a girl blatantly propped against his fence, staring at his land? He was sure he didn't know you, didn't recognize you from any of the farming families that have homes adjacent to his, and he didn't go into town nearly enough to have made friends outside his small bubble.

So who were you, and why were you staring at him like that? "Do you need somethin', miss?" The burly man called out to you as he started to approach, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm.

"O-Oh, uh, no, I apologize," you stuttered out, feeling instantly intimidated as he came closer; not because he was an intimidating person per se, because while his eyes are sharp, they also have a unique softness to them.

It was his size that made you shrink back and feel small; you didn’t realize just how large the man was until he was practically face to face with you. Even the knights you’re met with daily, who undergo strict, intensive physical training, pale in comparison to the muscular physique of the man you in time came to know well.

You remember how he looked at you curiously, head tilting to the side as he watched you straighten your posture and take a step back from his fence. “I was just.. curious, about the animals. They’re very cute,” you explained and the man chuckled a bit, wiping his dirty hands on his worn trousers before stepping up to his fence.

“I take it you’re from the town then? Can’t imagine you bein’ that curious about my animals otherwise,” he replied pleasantly, a warm, sort of prideful smile on his face. It confirmed his suspicions as well– you were definitely not someone he’s met before.

"Yes, I've only ever seen them in books," you explained further, a bit timid now as you suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You were sure a commoner of your age would never be as fascinated by the animals as you were; they see them every day, it's a normal part of life for them.

And you recall scolding yourself, really feeling that you needed to do a better job of hiding your lack of worldly experience when meeting new people so you'd stop having interactions like this. “I apologize again, I must appear very strange..”

“No need for that, sweetheart. I think it’s nice– I’m so used to bein’ around ‘em, that I don’t really stop and take it all in anymore. Reminds me of what I got, so thank you for that,” he replied kindly, his smile spreading an unfamiliar warmth through you in that moment.

He was very, very kind, and you appreciated that he didn't judge you or find you to be a fool for your innocent curiosity. "I could show you around, if you'd like. Let you meet them," he offered, and you positively beamed, though you really should have shown some restraint in the matter.

"Could I really?" you couldn't help but ask eagerly, eyes sparkling with pure wonder and excitement at the prospect of seeing so many things you'd never encountered before up close. “Course, just come ‘round to the front”

With no hesitation, you eagerly turned and began to sprint (in quite unladylike fashion, you might add) to where you saw the gate to his property some time earlier. You could hear the man's laugh carry even as you ran (not advised in the shoes you were wearing, but you carried on nonetheless), stopping just in front of the small, modest gate.

You waited for the kind man to catch up to you, not wanting to do anything rude or presumptuous by stepping onto his land without being specifically directed inside. "You took off so fast, you didn't give me a chance to introduce myself," he laughed as he approached you again, and your face immediately flushed, embarrassed by your excitability over everything.

"Name's Changbin," he introduced himself warmly after he opened the gate for you. You smiled timidly, giving him your name as well and a polite bow after you crossed the border onto his property. “Pleasure to meet you, Changbin.”

"Likewise," he smiled as he closed the gate behind you, and it was then that your first true friendship began. In hindsight, it occurred to you that you should've given him a fake name; and while he did ponder on why your name seemed familiar to him, he didn't ever appear to put together that you were the princess.

What was clear to him was that you were from a wealthy family; after all, that was the only explanation he could reach to decipher some of your "odd" behaviors.

Your boundless curiosity, your utter excitement for the mundane, an unmatched passion for all the small things in life that he'd never seen before in anyone else. A light in your eyes as bright as the sun, filling him with warmth and adoration, your wonder and inquisitive nature both pure and infectious.

He asked you once, what it is your family does, if being from the "high society" part of town near the castle is what made you live a sheltered life, why you seemed so (respectfully) clueless about things beyond the scope of inner-town workings and politics.

You were surprised when he asked, and confirmed what he suspected, though you left out some of the very important details. After all, how could you tell him that the girl he's become friends with over the past few months, didn't just live near the castle– her home is the castle.

But you divulged what little you could, confided in him that your mother has high expectations of you, that she doesn't know you spend your days with him at his farm, that if she did know she certainly wouldn't approve, and he seemed to understand.

While he may not be a high born man, he's no stranger to how haughty they can be, what with their superiority complexes and luxury goods, as if it's not working men like him that provide them with what they consume in the first place.

You weren't like that in the slightest– you were good, pure natured, with an infectious zest for life that he couldn't help but find his own joy in. Seeing you interact with the world, the happiness you gained from the simplicities in life, the wonder and curiosity you held for all things, both small and grand– it was a trait of yours he'd come to adore.

You learned from him just as much as he learned from you, and you truly reminded him how beautiful life is, how there is magic even in the mundane, what a gift it is to have, to be, and to feel. Changbin introduced you to so much, shared so many parts of his life, and you were truly the happiest you'd ever been, always looking forward to the next day you could go out and see him again.

"Have you ever ridden a horse?" he asked one summer afternoon when you were in stables together, you sat on a hay bale while you watched him care for Dolly, a beautiful, black and white dappled horse that belonged to his mother, whom she named such due to 'her mane being as beautiful as a porcelain dolls.'

"Does being escorted in a carriage count?" you asked, and he laughed, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "No, darlin', a carriage don't count," he said, smiling as you pouted ever so slightly.

You were still a child the last time you were even in a carriage, given the fact that your mother never permits you to leave. You wondered what's more enjoyable; your memory of your last carriage ride is so faded, you wondered if you could even compare the experiences, were you to ever ride a horse.

As if sensing your thoughts, Changbin made an offer that once again made you beam, radiating joy and excitement. "I could teach you how. Or let you ride with me," he offered and you were eagerly nodding without a second thought, jumping straight to your feet.

"I'd love that!" Changbin returned your smile, promising that once he got Dolly situated in a saddle, he'd take you for a ride while telling you everything he knows and answering any question you may have about it, no matter how small or seemingly silly and "common sense."

He helped you up onto her back, making sure you sat comfortably on the back of the saddle, both your legs dangling over one side of her body due to the fact that you were wearing a dress. Changbin got up onto the saddle with ease, carefully not to accidentally hit you with his leg while making his ascent. After he was settled in front of you, he instructed you to wrap your arms around his torso, as it takes time to become adjusted to the movement of the horse and naturally find your balance.

You wondered if he could feel your heart race when your chest was pressed against his back, how your palms grew sweaty from holding onto him, how your face flushed every time he called Dolly a "good girl." You wondered what it'd be like if he said the same to you, if he praised you after he encouraged you or taught you something new.

The more comfortable you got, the more he allowed Dolly to pick up speed, until she was going around the enclosed pen in a brisk trot, your arms squeezing Changbin as you giggle joyfully, feeling the wind brush by your ears and pull back your hair. It was so fun, so new, another experience Changbin granted you that you wouldn't otherwise have ever had the chance to have.

When you were finished, as the sun was beginning to set and it was time for you to get home, lest your mother send a maid to summon you for dinner and find you absent, he jumped off Dolly first. He then held out his hand to you, offering for you to take it, promising he'd make sure you got down safely.

And he did, letting you squeeze his hand as you made the unfamiliar leap off, his opposite hand coming to your back to ensure you were stable on your feet after you landed. His hand lingered on your back even after it was apparent you were steady, and yours did as well, still holding onto his other hand even though you no longer had need to.

It felt as though there was a shift between you– both staring carefully at one another, a suggestion that you could be something more than this, that there was a connection beyond that of just friendship. Slowly, with the same smile for you he always had, he pulled his hand away from your back, but didn't make you part from his other hand, letting you hold it even as he walked you to his gate.

And you felt a stutter in your heart, unlike any you'd ever felt before then, returning his smiles happily, your cheeks dusted pink as you thanked him for the afternoon and bid him goodbye. Every once in a while you'd turn back just to see him still watching you, offering a soft smile and wave each time your gazes met again.

Then, there was the time you were inside his chicken coops with him, Changbin having taught you much about how to properly care for the animals in your time near him. And after weeks of observation, you wanted to help, to really try your hand at it! You did well, for the most part– your error came when trying to get a hen away from a freshly laid egg.

You tried your best to follow Changbin's instructions carefully, but still, your inexperience was greatly apparent, and you ended up upsetting the poor thing. When she flew up in protest, it startled you so much that you fell backwards. But Changbin caught you, one of his strong arms wrapped around your back and holding you upright as if you weighed nothing at all.

You blinked up at him in surprise, face growing red as he asked if you were alright, your heart unexpectedly pounding. You muttered out an apology, voice much meeker than you wanted it to be, but he simply smiled. He helped you steady yourself again to stand on your own, ensuring you that it wasn't your fault, and that he could tell you were genuinely trying your best.

"No one gets it right on their first try, don't be discouraged. You did good, sweetheart," he said, and the words somehow made your heart race faster, face growing even pinker. You were certain then– you liked him as much, much more than a friend.

You wanted him to always praise you, to console you, to call you sweetheart in a way beyond platonic. You wanted him to look at you romantically, to call you by such sweet names in a moment of love and passion.

When you returned home that day, lying in bed after finishing dinner and washing up, your thoughts were plagued by him– much more than they usually were, and in completely different contexts. How would his strong arms feel under your fingers while he held you up, supporting all of your weight as he took you in every way conceivable, across every surface of his home.

You'd had.. less than pure thoughts before of course, so it's not like this was new to you– what was new was having an explicit object of desire, someone you wanted to lie with, someone you imagined touching you everywhere. And you wanted to touch him too, to pleasure him in all the ways he'd surely pleasure you.

There were many times you watched him work, sweat collecting on his forehead, dripping down his brow, his breath growing heavier with labor, his broad chest rising and falling quickly with exertion– would he look the same atop you, under you?

You could imagine him, his body heavy between your legs, pressing you down against his mattress. And you could imagine him staring up at you, those same grunts of effort he makes while working pouring out for new reasons, for your hands all over him.

God, you were driving yourself crazy thinking about it. Changbin noticed, on another summer day where the sun was high and hot and leaving him sweatier than usual, that your face too was hot and red. What he didn't realize was that it was for reasons beyond that of the sun beaming down on you.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's go inside. It's hot out here, ain't it?" he'd said, deciding it was time, for both your sakes, to take a well deserved break. You agreed, thankful beyond words he thought it was simply the sun making you a heated mess, and not how absolutely divine he looked chopping wood in preperation for when the weather would change in a month.

You sat on his sofa together, sipping on lemonade he made himself by hand, thankful to be out of the unforgiving sun (and to have something to focus on besides how attracted you were to him.) "You seem to be thinkin' a lot. What's on your mind, darlin'?" Changbin asked after it was quiet for a time, your cup of lemonade held in your lap as you stared off at unfixed location.

"I've.. come to like you quite a lot more than I expected. As more than a friend, I think," you answered honestly, though you didn't expect him to do anything with your feelings.

While he was your first real connection with someone, you were sure he's lived a full, experienced life. You felt that there was no reason for him to like you as you like him, but still you told him. You already hid enough about your life from him, and you didn't want your thoughts and feelings to be another one of those things you keep from him.

"I'm fond of you too. More than a friend, and more than you probably know," he replied with a soft smile, setting his empty cup to the side. You blinked, cheeks turning pink as you practically gaped at him. "Do you mean that? Sincerely?" you asked, heart thumping loudly as you too carefully set your cup aside.

"I wouldn't lie to you darlin'. 'Specially not about matters of the heart," he responded earnestly, carefully moving closer to you. You met him halfway, slowly, your eyes timidly meeting his as his hand comes towards you, resting heavy but soft on your cheek.

"Tell me truly," he almost whispers, face coming close enough to yours to feel his breath tickle your skin, "Do you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you?"

"Yes," you breathed out, and not even a full second later, his lips were on yours, plush and soft, butterflies filling your stomach and truly, you couldn't ask for any greater joy than that moment.

You kissed a lot after that– in greeting and in parting, sweetly, slowly, carefully, sometimes even urgently, needily, passionately. You'd help him with as much of his daily work as you could manage, so he could finish faster and you could spend the rest of the afternoon holding one another close.

Hands exploring anywhere and everywhere, both eager, both seeking more and more and more. Both indulging in the feeling of not just pleasure, but of closeness, intimacy beyond just the physical, the love and care you share for one another.

But as quickly as your happiness was obtained, it was taken away; unbeknownst to you, on an afternoon in mid fall, shortly after breakfast, a knight had seen you squeezing through the hole in the castle's wall, eager to spend yet another day with Changbin. He didn't think you were sneaking out at first– he thought maybe he was just mistaken on what he saw.

But when he stepped over, and it became clear that you were now nowhere to be seen, he had to inform your mother, as was his duty. And there are truly no words to describe how devastated you felt when suddenly, as if from nowhere, countless knights were surrounding you, pleading with you to return to the castle, lest they have to drag you back by your mother's command.

It became a spectacle in the street, commoners whispering amongst themselves as they tried to piece together what they were witnessing. Was the sweet, smiley girl they’d seen exiting and returning to town everyday for months really the princess this entire time?

You felt as if your entire world was collapsing as they escorted you back home, your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, knowing your mother would be positively furious when your eyes next met. But no, she wasn’t just furious– she was livid, the angriest you’d ever seen her in all your years.

You pleaded with her to understand, assured her that if you were truly going to run away from home and abandon your responsibility, then you wouldn’t have returned every single time you’d left. You didn’t want to be stuck here all day, every day, bored, alone, depressed, when there was an entire world out there to see, people to talk to, experiences to be had.

You’d do everything expected of you as a princess, and later as queen, but please– just this one thing, allow me this one thing. But no, your pleas fell on deaf ears, your mother completely dismissive of your feelings and unwilling to bend her iron rules.

And so you once again became a prisoner inside your own room, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stared at the edge of town from your window, Changbin so near, yet impossibly far. Your mother didn’t know of him; you didn’t tell her, nor would you ever, as things stand now– but how you wished you could tell her, “I’ve found love, and now I understand how truly a magical thing it is. I don’t want this to be the end of my joy.”

Weeks passed, and while the pain never left you, you learned to manage it well enough, hopeful that you’d be reunited with Changbin someday soon. But then you saw them– carpenters, working diligently to fill the hole in the castle walls that you had repeatedly used for your daily escapes.

The color drained from your face, your heart sinking into the very depths of your stomach. Your plan to simply be an obedient daughter long enough for your mother to lessen her watchful eyes on you, to one day again leave the castle once her constant vigil had relaxed, was being thwarted before it could ever truly begin.

You anticipated to be in this act for the long haul, knowing very well it could take months, or even years, to rebuild your mother’s trust in you, but you’d never imagined she’d take away the very source of your hope mere weeks after confining you away to your room. To call a hole in the castle’s defenses your “hope” may seem foolish to most, but it was all you had– a symbol of escape, of life beyond these four walls that had become your permanent home.

The day it was filled would be the day you’d lose everything; your freedom, your friendships, your joy, your hopes, your dreams, everything. Even as you are now, a canary trapped in her gilded cage, the promise that simple flaw in the walls gave you kept you going– the promise that someday, even if it was years and years from now, you’d be free again, doing what you loved most, being with who you loved most.

You know your mother cares for you, she wants the best for you, and the loss of your father, the king, much too soon has deeply scarred her. She fears for you, she keeps you ever at arm’s length because she can’t bear for you to part from her, to leave her behind the way your father had, but surely this isn't the answer. Surely there was something better than this, something that didn’t necessitate you being a prisoner in your own home.

Fear of loss and devastation ruled her life, made her trap you lest you decide to leave and never return, failing to realize that it was her very actions and treatment of you that gave those fears of hers room to become reality. But to know heartbreak is to know truest love, and even should loss plague your life, you will never regret having discovered love.

You had no desire to abandon your family, your kingdom, or run from your responsibilities, but if that was the only way to be free, if there was no other conceivable way to experience life’s joys and warmth, then.. What else was there for you to do?

Ironic, how your mother had unwittingly created a self-fulfilling prophecy when she forbade you from living a life of your own, her own actions resulting in the very outcome she feared most of all.

You have to do something, anything, now, before it’s too late, and you are left with nothing but the fleeting memories of the man you hold so dear. You bide your time, waiting until nightfall when the carpenters have left for the night to make your move.

Your mother has posted knights to the spot now, instructed to keep a watchful eye should you try again to leave the premises, but you think with the right timing, you can slip out unnoticed. There’s a small window of time where, when the knights standing guard rotate shifts, the hole in the castle’s walls will have no one standing in front of them.

It’s risky, and if you’re too slow you’ll be spotted by the new knights taking over for the ones who departed, but it’s the only chance you have, so you need to take it. As soon as the knights previously keeping watch over the area get far enough away, you dart for the breach in the castle.

The hole is definitely smaller than it was before, but you still manage to squeeze past just fine, with seconds to spare. You hear the sounds of the new knights approaching as you begin to sprint away, luckily having not noticed anything amiss.

The streets are much different at night, the subtle illumination from the candles in the surrounding buildings hardly enough to point you in the right direction. You look to the horizon instead, hoping that the dark line of trees on the horizon will be enough to guide you to the gate leaving town.

Some who notice your desperate run call out, concern evident in their voice, but you can’t stop for them, can’t stop until you’ve made it to Changbin’s side. And though it is not without struggle, you do, eventually, thankfully, find your way out of the town.

You’re panting, chest heaving as your heart pounds and your lungs desperately try to suck in air once you’ve made it completely outside the town gates– but still, you aren’t where you need to be, so you can’t stop yet. Pushing yourself to your very limits, even as your legs scream at you and harsh cold pricks your skin, you can finally make out Changbin’s land in the tree-lined horizon.

Reaching the gate to his property, you push it open in haste, taking hardly any steps past the threshold before you collapse to your knees, the ache and exhaustion refusing to be ignored any further. You bring a hand to your heart, taking a few seconds to calm yourself and breathe before you attempt to rise back to your feet.

But your legs refuse the action, much too weak to support you beyond what they’ve already done. It’s good enough, you suppose; they’ve carried far, with much more urgency than you’d ever thought possible. And now you’re right here, so close to where you need to be– and despite being a princess, you’re not above crawling your way over to Changbin’s door if you must.

Once more, you try– and though weak, and unsteady, you are able to rise once more. You can’t run, can hardly even walk as sore and as exhausted as your legs are, but they carry you as far as they can, recognizing the urgency you feel, aiding you as much as it can in your last, desperate effort.

Your throat is dry, it hurts, but you call out Changbin’s name regardless, hoping he’s awake, hoping he hears you, hoping he’ll wrap his arms around you, kiss you, console you, even if it’s just this one last time.

It’s been over a month since the last time Changbin saw you, and there’s so many questions he can’t help but ask himself, that he wishes he could ask you, so he didn’t spend all his hours distracted with worry and self-doubt. There had been gaps in the time you spent together before, but never for this large of a duration of time– a week usually at most.

Did he do something wrong the last time you were together? Or did your strict mother finally learn of your deceit, and now made you keep away, unable to return to his side though you may have wished to? He just wishes he knew for certain what it is, so that even if he was saddened, he did not have to have his mind consumed by what if’s and uncertainties.

There was a time, even, where he considered going into town and asking of you, but he was worried that doing so would only create more problems for you if the wrong person caught word of his inquiries. So all he could was wait– wait, and hope, that you would return again before year’s end, and that he would have the answers he so desperately craves to his questions.

Most of all, he just hopes you’re well; you’d expressed more than once that you loved your life and your family, you just didn’t want to feel trapped. You wanted to have choices, to feel like your thoughts and opinions matter, to be allowed to live as most other people do when they are not burdened with what their future will be.

Whenever you spoke of home, he always found it unfair, and he felt for you. You loved your mother, dearly, but he could see how you struggled with her rules, how sadness lingered in your eyes and resent bubbled up within you despite how you tried to not feel such things.

And though he understood why you could not, he wished at times that you could simply stay with him– to not have to depart the moment the sun began to sink, to lie in bed with him all night, to have breakfast and dinner together, to live without worry together.

He’d work hard for you, even harder than he does now, and it’d be worth it to see you smile at him as you always do, so bright and full of light, keeping each other company on your loneliest days and nights. Changbin sighs, exhaustion plaguing him as he sits before the small fire he has going in his living room, head falling back against his sofa.

He hasn’t slept well these past few nights– he just can’t help but think of you at all hours, and every time he closes his eyes to sleep, he’s met with the image of you. It keeps him up, though not all his thoughts of you are plagued by unpleasant worry– sometimes it’s simply just the image of you smiling or laughing, and he feels nothing but warmth, even as he is reminded how much he truly misses you.

Should you never return again, for whatever reason that may be, he doesn’t think he would ever regret having known you and given his love to you. Short-lived though your romance may be in the grand scheme of his life, and all the years he may be blessed to live, it was of the utmost importance.

He’d be remiss to let those memories become tarnished or devalued. You reminded him of how much joy there is in life, how grateful he is to have what he does, how much beauty there is in even the smallest of things.

Another sigh leaves his lips as he lifts his head, rubbing carefully at his weary eyes– he should probably try to rest soon, though he feels sleep will likely stay out his reach for some time after his head hits the pillows. He stands from the sofa, preparing himself to extinguish the fire and head to bed, when he hears a strange, unfamiliar sound from outside his door.

A thud, almost– as if something with a not insubstantial amount of weight thumped to the ground. It couldn’t be his logs; he knew the sound of falling logs well enough to recognize the distinct sound made when one toppled– and often times when one fell, more followed.

This was unlike that entirely, only one sound followed by silence, and the sound itself was still too dense to be one of his pieces of chopped wood. The sound felt more.. concentrated; an animal perhaps? And if it was an animal, he couldn’t let it go ignored– especially not if it was one of his own.

As Changbin steps closer to his door to investigate the sound, he hears something else entirely unexpected– a frail voice.. your voice..? Rushing to his door now, he opens it in haste, eyes darting to find the source of what he heard. And there, he sees you, collapsed to the ground before him, looking up at him with a mix of relief, exhaustion, and anguish.

Your name leaves him in a gasp as he leans down to you, concern evident in his voice and expression. His hands reach out to touch you and shit, your body is freezing; you are woefully ill dressed for the late fall chill, and who knows how long you’ve been out in it with nothing but your dress.

Quickly, he picks you up, carrying you inside and using his foot to kick the door shut behind him. “Just sit here a minute,” he says as he sits you down on the sofa, rushing to his room to grab all the blankets and pillows he can carry.

He prepares a sort of makeshift bed on the floor in front of the fireplace, laying down all the blankets and pillows he collected, his intention being to have you lay by the fire and spread some much needed warmth through your chilled body. Changbin scoops you back up when he’s satisfied with his work, very carefully laying you down a close (yet safe) distance to the fire, nestling beside you after and laying an additional blanket over your bodies.

He has so many questions, his mind is racing, but they can wait– making sure you’re not going to suffer frostbite is of much more importance. He lets you use him for warmth, not complaining a bit when your cold limbs tangle with his, letting you sap his warmth and take it for your own.

He brings his hands to your face, warming your cold cheeks in his palms, looking you over carefully. You looked unhurt, thankfully– he has no idea what you’ve gone through, but he’s glad you’re here now, and looking well, all things considered.

“Do you want to tell me what’s happened?” he asks softly, pushing the fallen hair away from your eyes, letting him meet your gaze without obstruction. You swallow down your bubbling emotion, wanting to be clear and concise, to leave no room for confusion or error.

“My mother is very strict, as you know.. She enforced her rules more harshly after she discovered how I’d been spending my time. I had to sneak out again just to be here,” you answer, and his brows furrow.

“Again..? Have you been sneaking out to see me all this time?” he asks, and you nod, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Changbin knew your mother had strict rules, he knew she didn’t approve of her daughter meeting with those of lower class, but that wasn’t the extent of it?

This whole time, he thought your lie to your mother was simply that you exited town– not that you left home entirely. He was under the impression that you were still allowed out on the streets, at the very least; not that you were caged up inside all day like some sort of bird. But this.. This was outrageous, cruel. To not let your daughter out of the house at all? That’s what you’d been dealing with this entire time?

Relationships with parents are complex, but he almost can’t even believe you still love her after all this, that you still want to uphold whatever ambitions it is that she has for you; if it were him, he doesn’t think he could stand it. He followed in his parents footsteps because he wanted to, not because he was forced to.

And he doesn’t imagine you’d be much different from him in that regard. Naive though you may be at times, you had a strong sense of responsibility, and were intelligent in matters he was clueless on, a completely different kind of intellect from his own. Surely she didn't have to be so strict with you.

“You can stay with me,” he wants to say, “I’ll never make you do a single thing you don’t want to do, you’ll always be respected and happy.” But he knows you’d refuse, your sense of pride in yourself and responsibility simply too strong to abandon just because of one obstacle, harsh though that obstacle may be.

In equal measure, you don’t think you could ever ask him to stay with you. How much would he have to give up to be with you? You don’t want to ask that of him– to make him give up his home and all he holds dear just to be stuck in the castle with you. He doesn’t even know you’re the princess in the first place.

And though you love him, it’s painfully apparent that you’re in two separate worlds that may not be destined to converge though you wish them to. “I don’t want this to be the end,” you say, hot tears finally starting to fall as you the emotion unleashes itself from the depths of where you’d pushed them down, “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

God, Changbin feels like his heart is shattering. It’s so painful to see you reduced to this, you who is always so bright and vibrant in her joy, brought low to tears and heartache. Why must you endure this? Does your mother truly not understand how much pain she causes you but not allowing you to simply live?

“Don’t think like that. If you say it’s the end, then it will be,” he whispers, the pain in his own voice evident despite how he tries to hide it behind a mask of strength for your sake. The tears flow from your eyes and you let him rub them away with his thumb, let him fill your head with impossible, sweet promises.

Your whole life was clouded in dreadful, dreary rain, and there’s nowhere you wanted to be more after the rain cleared than with Changbin. What a ray of sunshine he was, even without intending to be– the light that illuminated your otherwise dark existence. And how painful it was to know that come morning, it would all become nothing but a memory from your youth.

You lean forward to kiss him, tears continuing to leak from the corners despite having your eyes closed now. You want to tell him you love him, but you fear that saying so will only make the act of parting that much harder and painful.

You fear that no matter how much time passes, the name of your first love will forever be written in your heart, that you will never stop loving him even should you lead lives separate from one another. And still, you have no regrets, because for a time you felt truest joy and love, and what a gift it was to share with him.

Taking his hands from your face, he pulls you closer, your entangled limbs being woven together more complexly, your torsos now completely flushed to one another. His arms wrap around and hold you tight, as if lessening his hold on you would cause you to dissipate.

And you will disappear, but not now– not while he has you like this, not when you are where you long to be most. Your tears slow, eventually receding completely as your lips touch. If this is truly your last moment together, you have decided you will not spend it wallowing in sorrow– you will enjoy all you can, you will memorize every detail, you will etch it in your very soul.

“Are you warm enough?” Changbin asks after he separates from you, though still close enough that his breath lingers on your lips. “Could be warmer,” you answer and he chuckles softly, kissing you again, his hands roaming down the expanse of your body, to your hips.

“Want me to add more to the fire?” he asks, a playful lilt in his voice as he knows that’s not what you’re insinuating. While you normally speak quite openly and honestly, you become.. meek within intimate moments.

Changbin always finds it incredibly cute, how you dance around what you mean, waiting for him to get the hint and give you what you want. He always gets the hint, but it’s adorable to see your blush grow hotter, to see you stumble with your words when he plays dumb about what you mean, or purposely misunderstands just to make you state what you want clearly.

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt, but..” you trail off, chewing on your lip nervously as you meet his eyes again. He raises his brow but says nothing, smiling patiently as he waits for you to speak your mind. It makes the blush on your face flare, how he always waits for you to say it directly when you want to be intimate with him.

However, he doesn’t intend to waste too much time making you flustered like this; it’s just.. If this is the last time like you seem to believe, then he wanted to see it again now, before the opportunity was lost to him.

“I’ve missed you a lot, you know. I want you to touch me,” you finally answer and his smile brightens, furthering the embarrassment you feel as heat rushes to your face. But better than being cold like you were earlier, you suppose; maybe you should welcome the way his reaction makes you feel, since it never fails to make your face and body hot.

“You missed me, darlin’? I missed you too,” he smiles, kissing your face, your lips, your jaw, your neck, “thought about you every damn day.” His low voice near your ear makes you shudder, his soft kisses down your neck, to your shoulder, furthering the feeling.

You never let him mark your skin, afraid of what consequences would come from your mother finding out what you’d been doing, but you’re tempted to let him tonight– if you’re going to be punished regardless, why not be selfish, go out with a display?

“Binnie, leave a mark on me, please,” you shamelessly plead, calling his name in the way you know he loves to hear you speak. Changbin lifts his head from your shoulder, meeting your gaze with uncertain excitement. God, he’d love to, but..

“Are you certain? What of your mother?” he asks carefully, pushing your hair behind your neck to expose more of your skin. He may be apprehensive out of concern, but the minute you make it clear you have no reservations, he’s obliging without restraint, giving you everything you ask– anything you want, you’ll have it.

“I don’t care what she thinks anymore, I want her to know that I.. have someone I love,” you answer sincerely, and he smiles, his heart feeling like it’s expanding in size. “You love me?” he asks, and you return his smile as you nod, because though you were scared to tell him, you are glad you did. His reaction to the information was completely worth it, his eyes sparkling with deep emotion and fondness for you.

“I love you too. More than you probably know,” he says, mirroring what he said when he confessed that he liked you too, and he lets you pull him into a kiss, your affection radiating. There’s a soft giggle that escapes him, not being able to help how giddy your love makes him feel, how you love him despite what people in your life expect from you.

If he could, he’d assure them all how well he’d take care of you, how he’d make sure you never suffered a day in your life because of him. He suspects your mother doesn’t care much about your happiness, but if she did, if she gave him the chance to prove it, he wouldn’t rest until he gave you the entire world, until she could see your love as true.

You lay your head back to the pillows, tilting it comfortably so that Changbin has more access to your skin. His breath warms you, and you all but tremble with anticipation when you feel his lips on you again, knowing your skin will finally bear his mark after all this time.

You’ve seen such a mark briefly on your maids that you know to have lovers, how they try to hide them with their hair or makeup, the sort of shame and embarrassment they feel when they realize you’ve noticed it. You will have no such shame; you will wear them proudly, in a show that is simultaneously of love and rebellion.

"I have and I know love, and that is all that matters." And people will certainly have opinions, but you’ve sacrificed enough to them. If there is only one day you can live selfishly for the rest of your life, you want it to be this day; and even as the marks fade, they will serve as a reminder of what you once had.

He plants open mouthed kisses to your neck, the feeling of his tongue and teeth grazing you adding to the anticipation you feel. Your fingers tangle in his dark, unruly curls, as he carefully, almost gently, sucks and bites at your supple skin, leaving behind a string of beautiful, red, blue, and purple bruises.

There’s a tinge of pain, yes, but the excitement grows beyond the subtle sting, transforming it almost entirely into pleasure. When Changbin’s finished with one side, he lies you on your back and does the same to the other, your eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head for him to have more room to work.

You unintentionally tug on his hair when his teeth meet a particularly sensitive spot, and you would’ve apologized had he not groaned in delight from the feeling. You learned something new about him every time you were intimate, and this discovery in particular had your stomach flipping.

“Want you to take it off,” he mumbles in reference to your dress, pulling at the fabric that had begun to bunch up at your thighs. You hum, detangling your hand from his hair and letting him sit up, watching as he lifts his own shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside.

In all the times you’ve seen Changbin’s skin bare, you never stopped being amazed at how divine he looked. He was so big and strong, it always left you breathless, his cute, soft stomach a direct contrast from the bulk in his arms and chest. And then there was the small patch of hair that led from his belly button to the waistband of his trousers that always left you hungry to see the rest of him.

Still feeling a bit weak from your exertion prior, you ask Changbin to help you remove your dress, which he is more than happy to do. He’s careful with the fabric, though you’ve decided you don’t care about it at this particular moment, and he sets it aside with much more care than he did his own clothing. What a gentleman he is, you think, taking the extra time to care for your clothes even when he’s met with you bare before him.

Well, not entirely bare– you still have your undergarments on, and after deciding you’d see Changbin today no matter what, you purposely wore your prettiest pair. A beautiful, intricate and delicate white lace, one you might aspire to wear on your wedding night. He looks you over in awe, taking in all your details. You were always beautiful, but your choice in clothing somehow enhances it, drives his excitement even further.

“Fuck, you’re stunning. How did I get so lucky?” Changbin questions aloud and you smile, a soft giggle escaping you as he leans back down to kiss you. “Take your pants off too, otherwise it isn’t fair,” you playfully complain and he grins, letting out a giggle of his own as lifts himself back up.

“Maybe I spoil you too much, giving you everything you want so easily,” he responds to your complaint with one of his own, trying not to smile so that he appears serious– though you are easily able to read that he’s playing around, just as you were.

“You give me everything I want because I’m a good girl for you though, right?” you ask and he whines audibly; you admitted early on in your sexual relationship that you were curious about being called such things. When he tried it out, it was discovered that he liked saying it just as much as you liked being called it.

It’s not just saying it to you that he likes either– hearing you call yourself one, saying it’s just for him.. that’s what really gets him going. And while he doesn’t want to be presumptuous and say you belong to him, especially not after all you’ve suffered through, he definitely belongs to you.

You don’t anticipate Changbin pulling his underwear down with his trousers, but the sight of his cock is never unwelcome. It’s already hard and leaking, and when he leans down to you once again, you can feel it pressing against your bare thigh, smearing its fluid on your skin. It always excites you how hard he gets from your body, always enjoyable watching him get riled up just from looking at you bare or from saying a few sweet words.

“You’re dangerous,” he says with a small huff, and before you can come back with more words to make his cock throb, he’s kissing you again, this time with much less softness, quickly shoving his tongue past your lips.

You welcome it, opening your mouth for him, letting his tongue lick yours. The feeling always makes you light-headed in the most delicious way possible– it’s intoxicating to put it simply, and you would kiss him for hours and hours if given the chance.

His hands come to your bra, unhooking it easily after all the practice he’s had, and though he could easily toss it aside, he breaks away long enough to set it down gently. You giggle at how he’s still treating your clothes with care even while this hard and eager, but that’s what makes you love him so much.

Returning to your mouth, he nips and sucks at your bottom lip, and you mewl at the sting, which Changbin always gladly soothes with his tongue before repeating. His fingers roll, pinch, and tug your nipples, not too hard, but enough to have you whining and squeezing your legs together.

They were always so sensitive in Changbin’s rough, calloused hands, and there were times you felt you could cum simply from the stimulation of them alone– especially when he used his mouth at the same time. And he did just that when he pulled away to stop kissing you, though not right away.

He kissed all over your chest, leaving love bites and sucking small, almost delicate bruises onto the sensitive skin of your breasts, not yet touching your nipples with his tongue and teeth. You told him to mark you, and it seems he was determined to do it everywhere– not that you had any objections. It was a bit strange, seeing your chest bitten and the color of your flesh changed, but you equally enjoyed it, loved the physical proof that Changbin was on you.

When his tongue finally swirled around one of your nipples, you let out a breathy moan that quickly turned into a drawn out whimper when he used his teeth. He made sure not to hurt you too overtly, to just give you enough of that sweet sting you found so enticing and pleasurable, and in return you gave him that same delicious feeling by tugging on his hair every time you felt good.

Your panties were soaked by the time he stopped giving your breasts attention, and though you hadn’t reached your peak from the stimulation, you felt so close. Resuming his path down your body, Changbin’s cock throbs and twitches when he’s met with evidence of your excitement, your white panties darkened by how damp they’ve become.

He doesn’t pull them down right away– he kisses your legs first, and then your thighs, leaving behind the same kisses and marks he gave to your chest and neck. Your inner thighs are especially sensitive, and it causes you to jolt and whine when he sinks his teeth into the meat of them.

He’s got you so impossibly worked up, you feel like you could cry when he finally gives your neglected heat the attention it craves. He praises you before he slides your panties down your legs, and there’s a relieved sort of noise coming from your throat that makes Changbin chuckle.

You keen when his tongue finally slips between your folds, licking and sucking up everything you have to offer him. There’s an enthusiastic hum that leaves his lips when your fingers tangle in his hair again, followed by a moan when you pull and tug. Your legs are trembling and twitching so much, constantly threatening to close around his head, that he has to push them down to keep you how he wants you.

It’s when his tongue meets your clit that you really start to lose yourself, your hips jolting up and back arching, legs quivering when he wraps his lips around it and sucks. You’re panting, begging him for more, incoherently mumbling and babbling about how close you are, and within seconds you’re seeing white, eyes rolling back as further arousal gushes on his face.

He licks your release up with another eager hum, dragging out the feeling until you’re a quivering, overstimulated mess beneath him. You release your hold on his curls when you finally come down from your high and your body relaxes, opening your eyes to see Changbin grinning at you, evidently proud of the fact that he got you to cum so intensely.

He kisses you softly, quick and chaste, not trying to hinder you from taking any of the breaths you need, just wanting to show his affection. “What do you want next, darlin’? Since I’m givin’ you everything you want,” he asks, rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he awaits your answer.

“W-Want to be on top but.. I’m still feeling pretty weak. Especially after that,” you reply with a slight blush, and he giggles again, cooing at you as if you’re just so sweet and cute (and to be fair, you are– you always will be, at least to him.)

“S’okay sweetheart, I can help you,” Changbin says sweetly, giving you one more kiss before he’s lying down on the makeshift bed and pulling you on top of him. Your legs are on either side of them, his hands on your hips, looking up at you with pure affection.

“This good? Comfortable?” he asks, and you hum with a nod, smiling just a bit as you lean down to kiss him again. Normally, given how thick he is, Changbin would prep you before having you take his cock, but given how wet and excited you are, he doesn’t think the prep is as necessary (and you might not be patient enough for it after all the build up to this point regardless.)

He helps you line yourself up with his cock, both of you letting out your own shaky noises as you sink down on him. “Atta girl, keep goin’, just like that, sit on me all the way,” he encourages you, and you do just as he asks.

Your hands tightly gripping his biceps to ground and support yourself as you sit flush with his body, the back of your thighs meeting the top of his. He rubs your thighs and legs, trying to show soothing affection as you adjust and settle, listening attentively to all the trembling exhales and noises you make.

You look so beautiful atop him, illuminated in the gentle, warm glow of the fireplace, your hair having fallen in a way that messily, yet somehow perfectly, frames your face. He can see everything– your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, beautifully painted with all the marks he left behind. You can feel him twitching and throbbing inside you, but he doesn’t rush you along, lets you take all the time you need.

You feel him twitch again when you lean down to kiss him, and it’d make you giggle if it also didn’t make a wave of pleasure shoot through your body. You move your hands to his chest to support your own weight better, rolling your hips as you coax your tongue into his mouth.

He lets out a moan from deep in his chest as you move, his tongue wasting no time in meeting and dancing with yours, his fingers squeezing at the already tender meat of your thighs. You lift yourself back up to begin moving in earnest, your hands still planted firmly on his chest for support as you slide yourself up and down his length.

The slow pace, while it still feels good, isn’t enough for either of you, and soon enough you find yourself practically bouncing on his cock, the sound of your thighs repeatedly slapping down on his echoing into the room. Changbin curses, biting his lip as he watches you, using his hands to help guide you up and down, trying to ease some of the ache in your legs.

He thrusts upward into you when your pace starts to stutter and lose rhythm, and you gasp, eyes rolling back as he hits the perfect spot again and again. It reaches a point where his hands simply hold you in the right place while he exerts all his effort, feet planted firmly on the ground while he does all the work from below. Your nails dig into his skin, head falling back as you feel your release building up again.

Changbin effortlessly flips your positions, though he is careful not to hurt you in his haste. He just wants to make you fall apart again, and it’s easier to do that if he doesn’t have to control your movements– just his own. He resumes the pace he held from below, bringing two of his fingers to your clit and rubbing in quick circles, unable to help the way he moans when he feels you clench around him even tighter in response.

“B-Bin, please, Binnie, so close,” you babble and whine, your hands twisting the blankets beneath you. “I know sweetheart, let go, be a good girl and give it to me,” he grunts out, and again, you feel white hot pleasure coursing through your veins, your vision blurring and mind growing fuzzy as you let go.

“Good girl, just a little more, just need you to hang on for a little more,” he both instructs and praises, pulling out just long enough to flip you to your stomach, pushing back into your heat just as quickly as he left it. You whimper loudly, fingers clutching desperately at the pillow your head rests on, Changbin bringing a hand around your body to lift your hips ever so slightly.

He was hitting your spot deliciously from this angle, the pleasure so great that tears once again pricked the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall with each gasp and whimper you released. You turn your head back as much as you can, delighted in the visage of Changbin’s head thrown back in pleasure,

He always got rougher when he started to get close, his hands always tightening their grip, his thrusts, while growing less rhythmic, became harsher and faster, almost desperate, and it was always a treat to experience. You loved watching him lose himself to the pleasure, loved that it was you and your body that brought him there, loved how his grunts and moans transformed into higher pitched whimpers and whines.

You bring your own fingers to your clit, wanting to let him enjoy and focus on his release since he already spent so much time on your pleasure. He leans forward, his chest pressed into your back, his hot breath hitting your ear, his whines and praises pouring directly into it.

“Fuck, sweetheart, feel so good, ‘m gonna- fuck, gonna fill you up,” he stammers out, and it sends a shiver down your spine, your stomach erupting in countless butterflies, driving you to speed up the motion of your fingers.

You release again with a strangled cry, gushing around his length and on your fingers. Changbin follows closely behind, the feeling of you clenching and squeezing around him as you cum for the third time sending him over his peak. He releases in long, drawn out spurts, both of you breathless and exhausted when he collapses next to you.

You both know you should get cleaned up, but you’re both too tired to care, and he can always clean up his messes in the morning. For now, he just wants to stay close, here in front of the fire, with you. This very well could be your last night together, but he doesn’t want to believe it is. He wants to believe that the two of you can find a solution somehow, that after all the hardship, you’ll be smiling at him in the end.

There’s a part of you that doesn’t even want to fall asleep at all– you want to stay up all night, to not waste a single moment you have left, to stare and feel and love until the very last second, so that you’ll remember him clearly always. You do your best to not become teary eyed again, having promised yourself you wouldn’t spend your night with him wrapped up in your sorrow and dread.

But oh, how you wish there was more time, how you wish that your mother would understand you, that you could have just this one thing. But you suppose for a girl with immense responsibility, happiness is too much to ask for. You sacrifice your happiness so that others may have it instead– as noble an act as any, but you selfishly wish you could have both; the people’s happiness and your own.

The idea of running away still leaves you torn, even after all this time. You don’t want to let anyone down.. but still, you have to ask yourself, is doing what’s right for your kingdom and future worth all this heartache? If it’s what is right, why does it make your heart feel as if it’s been shattered like glass? You’ve been told in life that the right thing to do is never the easiest, but you can’t imagine that in this case, walking away from either side is right.

You want both. Is that truly so wrong? You want to be a ruler worthy of her name and title, and you want Changbin. Why must you choose one over the other? As far as you’re aware, even now, Changbin doesn’t know you’re the princess.

He’ll likely find out soon– every knight in the town will be floundering to find you come morning, once they realize you’re gone. You should slip away before then, lest your lover be met with undue scrutiny and unfair treatment from your mother and other nobles if you're found here.

But looking at him now, even still.. you don’t want to leave. You’ll never want to leave. “Sweetheart,” Changbin calls softly, his hand reaching up to leave comforting, lingering touches to your head. “I can tell what you’re thinkin’. But don’t be sad yet, not ‘til we’ve said goodbye.”

You blink away the accumulating tears with a nod, swallowing down the lump in your throat the best you can and burying your face into Changbin’s welcoming body. You’re so, so tired, and you know he is too, but he’s trying his best for you. And he’s being the strong one despite how much his heart aches with yours.

He rubs your head, kisses your temple, tells you he loves you. Your heart breaks and mends all at once; how bittersweet this moment is.. If you’re lucky, you'll have about 7 hours until anyone realizes you’re gone. Maybe you can sleep for just a few, just enough to get some of this ache out of your body, and then you can spend the rest with Changbin.

You’ll cry, you know, as soon as you depart back home. You’ll cry when the hole in the castle’s defenses is completely sealed. You’ll cry when you look to the fields his home sits on from the bedroom window. Still.. you do your best to uphold your promise to yourself, and now to Changbin.

You won’t cry, and you won’t be upset– not yet, anyways. Not until you’ve actually parted ways. For now, you’ll continue to lie in his arms, continue to express your love for him, continue to smile and laugh as if this isn’t the end, until morning comes and reminds you painfully that it is.

How beautiful it was to love Seo Changbin, to learn and to grow and to really live with his help, patience, and care. How fondly you’ll miss him in every moment, how lovingly you’ll always hold his memory. Brief though your love together is, much shorter than it should have been, it has changed you for the better, and you’ll never regret it, even should your heart ache.

And maybe Changbin is right; maybe there is room for hope, and maybe you’ll see each other again much sooner than you allow yourself to think. But no matter what lies before you, there is one thing for certain; Changbin is and always be will your first love, forever be etched in your heart– your lover, your deepest connection, your closest confidant. And how grateful you are to have known him.

#skz x reader #changbin x reader #skz smut #changbin smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

136 notes · View notes

euphoricfilter · 2 years ago

Text

like crazy ~ part one

☆ﾟpart one of four

pairing(s): namjoon x reader, seokjin x reader, yoongi x reader, hoseok x reader, jimin x reader, taehyung x reader, jungkook x reader

genre: fluff || smut || angst || non-idol au || reincarnation au || strangers to lovers || established relationships || regency era au || gang au ||

summary: the story of why you loved to dance in the rain.

word count: 14k

tags/ warnings: duke! taehyung, jimin, fluff, so much love, angst, death(s)/implied murder, mentions of blood, mentioned suicide, mentioned puking, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, smut in the forms of: implied loss of virginity, unprotected sex (don't be stupid, this is fiction), oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, cum play, talks of pregnancy and babies

notes: this mini series is very loosely inspired by an au idea i wrote a while back about an immortal m/c. i'm going to try and keep updates every other week but i am moving home really soon so if there's any change in the schedule then i'll post about it!! and as always, feedback is always encouraged <3

‘like crazy’ mini series masterlist || my main masterlist

🪐 🌠 ∘₊✧─── *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ───✧₊∘ ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 💫

“A lot has happened since we last spoke” You look down at the gravestone, moss and mud having found home over unnerving death, “Sorry it took me so long to visit” Maybe it helped that the sun was out, tears that were meant to fall soaked up in golden rays of light that warm your cheeks rather than wet them.

You place a bouquet of red chrysanthemums before the thick slab of stone, closing your eyes briefly. Not a thought in your mind as you revel in the peace of what was once a roaring home.

“Now, where should I begin?”

The day you remembered your first life, it felt as though your world had tilted off its axis. That everything you thought you’d learnt about yourself was nothing more than a singular star in a galaxy that sat in the vast universe. A mere atom in the formula that builds you as a person.

It was like a never-ending spiral. Little pockets of a past life you were never supposed to know, hidden between rouge pieces of space rock and black holes of a different time. Where one misstep had you slipping down a rabbit hole of the unknown with nothing to grab onto. Spiralling down like you were Alice, except you were far from Wonderland.

You weren’t even sure if you were in denial, or if it was all a far-fetched dream crafted by a wild imagination. Perhaps it was something more like guilt, because as much as Jimin was most definitely the love of your life; he was simply the love of this life.

Strange, heart-wrenching emotions had weighed on your shoulders as you remembered a past lover, who had held your heart ever so delicately in soft hands. And you’d held his, cradling it to your chest until your hearts had beaten in unison. Where wild fantasies had painted a forever, that was never going to be forever.

Your skin had crawled as fingertips that no longer exist had danced over your body, and burning lips, kissing you in places that should only be Jimin’s. A touch not that of your lover’s, digging into sacred places, secret places that you had only ever worked up the courage to show Jimin.

The sudden force of having to re-live grief when you yourself should also be dead had sent you into a frenzy. With too many sleepless nights, and too many harsh words sent Jimin’s way as you tried to navigate so many new stimuli at once. This love for another man was like a phantom hand latching onto your heart and squeezing, pulling, and sinking you further down. Sinking down, down, down until a whirlwind of emotions had flushed over you. Joy. Excitement. Sorrow. Heart-ache. Hatred. Love. Too much love. So much more love. A different sort of love you had never felt. Love love love.

There were too many secrets. Secrets you didn’t truly understand, a jumble of words that melt into slush and clog your brain, sparking against neurotransmitters and mingling with more information than you knew what to do with. Secrets that go away when Jimin is stood before you, and you’re reminded of who your heart now belongs to. The world finally silent, and hands stop grabbing you, and you can finally breathe again. It was as if Jimin had become a catalyst for your fraying feelings.

The story of Jimin had bloomed in spring.

When the sky felt as though it were at the tips of your fingers if you were to reach up high enough. And the world smelt of flowers and herbs that sat on window-sills of rundown houses. Where skin was sun-kissed, tender and pink on the back of your neck. And all the evils of the world were taking a nap for the afternoon with the cats that lounged in the shade under trees.

“Excuse me”

You perk up, squinting when the sun hits your eyes.

The memory of your first encounter with Jimin will always be one you find yourself going back to. Vivid enough that when you dream of this day, you’re often tempted to reach out and touch him as if he were really there.

His name on the tip of your tongue, tickling the back of your throat and mind, though nothing comes out as the scene replays itself for the thousandth time.

It’s like a well-practised play, where you pose as the main cast while simultaneously being the audience. (Maybe it was more of a tragedy, a shame when you know how this one ended.) A little jarring that you have no control over your own body, lips moulding around words so many times you could recite the first conversation the both of you had over and over again.

Sickly regret holding you in its palms, because there are so many more things you want to tell Jimin, words that he’ll never get to hear.

It mustn’t have been very long after midday when you’d met. Sweat tickling the back of your neck and untamed grass pocking at your ankles and between bare toes.

The air smelt of burning wood, crackling fire nothing but a whisper in the wind as footsteps crunch over gravel, and children thump into the tall grass and crush delicate flowers under the weight of their tiny bodies.

The dress you were sewing is dropped into your lap in favour of cupping your hands around your eyes to see the face of your visitor. Your cheeks dusting the lightest shade of pink when you finally get a look at his face.

You knew of Jimin, as did most on your estate. The other seamstresses never knew when to close their mouths, always tittering away about everyone and everything that lived in the area. Mindless gossip that you always found yourself turning away from when their giggles would get too loud, or opinions too crude for your liking.

Jimin had become somewhat of an enigma since turning into an adult. Names were thrown around like he weren’t ever to hear them; though you know his mother works in the building next door. Sure to have heard what her friends had been saying about her son behind her back. How much of a shame it is that he has such a nice face but no money. That no woman would ever want to settle for a man with nothing to his name, even if their babies were to be beautiful.

Or how their daughters had wandered into the city and found wealthy bachelors, who bought them dresses lined with thread made of gold, and jewellery that weigh down their necks. Who eat like royals, and prance around well-kept gardens into their husbands’ arms.

Thoughts ever so shallow you never found yourself stooping to their level when they’d nudge you for your opinion. The bitter remark that their children had abandoned them had always clung to your lips, because surely if they cared they would have lifted their parents out of commoner status and housed them in luxury.

The rumours of Jimin’s beauty were true, that much you now knew. Whatever child-like innocence you had left inside of you dubbing him as something akin to a garden fairy; just as you imagined them when you were young.

Not quite dainty, yet not thick muscle, something a little softer around the edges. And with his overgrown hair haloed by the sun as he takes a step to the side, blanketing you in shade, you think he looks like a dream.

“Yes?” your head tilts, gaze flitting to the scarce bouquet that he holds. Tips of his fingers evidence that he’d dug them up himself, wet soil clinging to his skin and boots; just as rough and old as the rest of his clothes. Though really you find you have no place to judge when you, yourself are dressed no better than him.

“These are for you” He thrusts the flowers into your face, entirely too eager as dirt falls into your lap, though you find yourself laughing. Uncaring that your mother’s dress bears the brunt of his enthusiasm.

You clear your throat when he avoids your eyes, “From you?”

And he nods, watching from the corner of his eye as you take them in gentle hands as not to let any of the smaller flowers fall out of place. You lay them delicately over your lap, feeling around the grass for your thread.

You snap it with your teeth, tying the stems of the flowers together so you wouldn’t lose any of them. A pot already in mind that you keep beside your mattress in the bedroom. Dust had collected around the rim, and lime scale clung to the insides, though you think the flowers would look lovely beside you as you slept.

“And–” he rubs his hands over his pants, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, “And this” He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket.

The tips of your fingers brush against one another as you take it from him. Curiosity wins over the heated flush that threatens to dust over your cheeks at the accidental contact.

‘I think you’re pretty’

“Would you like to join me?” you smile, patting the space beside you, Jimin’s own lips curling up at the corners.

“I’m Jimin”

And you refrain from telling him you know. Because the Jimin you knew was the one that had been tossed from mouth to mouth, built on flimsy lies and stupid expectations. Entirely built by rotten imaginations and women who had nothing better to do than chatter about other people’s lives when their own was crumbling just as much.

“Y/n” you giggle, outstretching your hand for him to shake.

Jimin’s eyes curl into little crescents as he smiles, a laugh bubbling up his throat “Nice to meet you, Y/n”

“Nice to meet you” You nod, “Oh! And, I think you’re pretty too”

“Do you think I can take you on a date? Tomorrow?” he turns to you, and you blink up at him.

“So soon?”

“Too soon?” he winces.

The corners of your lips turn upwards, busying yourself with finishing mending your mother’s dress, “No, I quite like how straight to the point you are”

Jimin’s chest deflates as he sighs, “I thought it might have scared you a little” he admits.

You hum, “No one’s ever asked me on a date before” you admit.

A wave of ease falls over the both of you, a unanimous understanding that there weren’t any expectations between the two of you. That as much as love was thrown onto the table, it didn’t have to be what the two of you got out of this.

Friendship, when you’re alone, is just as precious as a lover. Another human being with very human emotions and morals that match yours is just as special as something a little more than platonic.

“No way” he laughs, shoulder knocking against yours, you bite back a smile, “A girl as pretty as you?”

“Mmhmm”

“Then it’d be an honour to be the first” feeling bold, Jimin’s arm slips across your shoulders, “And hopefully the last”

“Ah is that so?” you drop the dress onto the grass beside you, pushing yourself to sit on your heels as you turn to face Jimin.

He nods, eyes flicking from your own to your lips, then back up again. Perhaps only mapping out your face into his mind, carving out every little crevice that makes you, and burning it into his brain. Or maybe it’s something a little less innocent.

You lean forward, a chaste kiss pressed to Jimin’s cheek before you pull back; a shy smile mirroring his, flushed cheeks probably matching his too. Though you find yourself liking the feeling, something ever so foreign yet welcome, you can’t help the airy laugh that spills from your lungs.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been the incessant tapping at your window that had woken you up like a little bird was pecking at the old glass. Understandably, fear had settled in your heart, it wasn’t often you were woken up in the middle of the night like this.

The floorboards creaked under the weight of your body as you slipped off your mattress, socked feet barely making a sound as you plan an easy escape without your uninvited visitor knowing you were going to find your mother.

You almost trip over your own feet when the tapping stops, Jimin calling out your name.

You scuttle over to your window, tugging your curtains open, “What are you doing here so late?” you whisper when you unlatch the window, pushing it open.

“I forgot to give you this” he raises his arm, a singular sunflower clasped between his fingers.

“You came all the way here to give me this?” you ask, baffled.

“Yes, I forgot to pick you a bouquet before our date this afternoon” he nods, “That…and I just missed you”

“Would you like to come in?” you take a step away from your window.

You see the unfiltered surprise on his face, “Too soon?”

He shakes his head, “I just wasn’t expecting it is all”

You pluck the sunflower from between his fingers, turning to place it in the vase with the other flowers he’d gifted you over the last week.

You turn back to Jimin as his boots thump against the floor, he kicks them off, shuffling in one spot as you take a seat on your mattress.

“Come here” you hide your smile, biting your bottom lip. He’s ever so careful as he takes a seat beside you. The both of you fall onto your backs like you often did in the grass at the park.

Soft silver moonlight spills into the room from the open curtains, cool night air washing over the both of you as you stare at the ceiling.

“I really like spending time with you” Jimin breaks the silence, though his gaze remains trained on one spot of your roof.

“I really like spending time with you, too” You tilt your head to look at him, unexplainable happiness filling your body until you felt like bursting.

He hums, next words barely above a whisper. “I hope we can be together for a long time”

“I would like that”

Jimin turns his head to face you, the softest smile on his face, “I’m glad”

Love with Jimin was pure. The both of you were young enough that it didn’t matter if it were rough around the edges, imperfect; though you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. It wasn’t hard to fall in love. Not when it was Jimin.

For every date he took you on, he would spend hours in the park picking flowers for you.

His mother had always adored them and could talk about anything botanical for hours. She knew all their meanings and all their worth. Her love for one of the world’s tiny treasures brushing off on Jimin growing up. Over the years the reason for his love had changed, something special to his mother was now something special to him.

Because flowers now reminded Jimin of you. Where soft petals between the tips of his fingers felt like your skin under his hands, always reaching out for you, holding any part of you he could. How the world around you smelt of flowers as he braided them into your hair or you made promise rings with wilting stems that needed a little bit of love; a new life, a new purpose.

And of course, Jimin had heard all about the men in the city who bought acres of land for their lovers. Gardens tended to with warm hands but barely there love. And Jimin’s dream was to spend afternoons in a garden, your knees brushing as he plants flower beds and vegetables. So he could wake you up each morning with a new bouquet and a letter as to why he loves you so much.

“What’s this one?” you tuck Jimin’s hair behind his ear, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“A red chrysanthemum” He tilts your face, thumb caressing the skin behind your ear.

“Yeah?” you breathe, eyelashes brushing against your cheeks as his lips barely brush over your own, and Jimin hums.

You smile into the kiss, “And what do red chrysanthemums mean?” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“I love you”

You pull back, eyes widening a fraction. Three words that felt like they should be whispered, a secret that the two of you shared but never spoke about. You knew you loved Jimin in some capacity, you weren’t stupid. And you knew he liked you back, he’d made that known; and yet those three words had you feeling as though love was the only emotion that mattered. That the only thing you could ever do was love Jimin.

“Too soon?” he smiles, thumb running over your bottom lip.

You shake your head, “No, not at all”

“This is for you too then” His free hand slips into his pocket. Piece of paper tucked between two fingers, he drops it into your awaiting palm.

‘I love you ♡”

Young love didn’t have to be rushed. You didn’t have to stagger after Jimin as he pulled you along, or him chase after you as you sped ahead. It could be late-night talking about all the seemingly insignificant things in life. How hard growing up was or the insane expectations for success that neither of you had a chance of grasping.

Marriage didn’t have to be your only reason. Not when Jimin had become many of the reasons you liked waking up in the morning, or making lunch for the both of you to share on scarce breaks at work.

It could be slow dancing in the moonlight, as Jimin hums and crickets chirp. Or afternoons spent lounging in the sun with pinkies intertwined and breaths in sync. Or, now whispered ‘I love yous’ melting into soft kisses to cheeks and lips and noses. Or pink flushed cheeks and smiles that hurt your face, the good kind of hurt that makes you giggle and want one more gentle press of his lips to your own.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You dip your fingers into the shallow edge of the lake, “It’s pretty cold”

You peek over your shoulder as Jimin pulls his shirt over his head, lithe muscles flexing under the motions of his movements. Every sharp line and soft ridge of his body was illuminated by the silver light of the moon.

“Guess we better warm up then” he grins, eyes raking down your body. They then linger on your face, and it’s not often you wonder what Jimin’s thinking. He usually speaks his mind, clingy shyness about his feeling for you never holding him back when it came to his thoughts.

You laugh, “Perv” your own shirt haphazardly shucked off your body, thrown into a pile with the rest of Jimin’s clothes.

His arm slips over your waist as you kick your panties off, goosebumps prickling the skin of your arms as your boyfriend takes a step into the lake.

His chest opens as the initial shock of the cold crawls up his spine. Jimin watches you fidget, arms wrapped around your bare breasts, “Come on, baby” he reaches a hand out for you, walking further until he’s waist-deep in the water.

An easy smile is on his face as he beckons you over, wading closer to you when you work up the courage to slink into the water. Your breath hitches as you take Jimin’s hand, legs wrapping around his waist. He throws your arms around his shoulders, murky water rippling around the both of you as he spins you around. Your bare chest pushes up against Jimin’s as you pull him closer, your body easing a little at the extra heat.

“You’re pretty” he murmurs, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs, hoisting you up a little higher.

You push his hair from his forehead, lips lingering over warm skin when you lean down to press a kiss over his hairline; your hands cupping his cheeks, eyes flickering across his face. You weren’t sure how to explain how you felt, Jimin had always been better at words than you had been.

It’s just, Jimin in the moonlight always felt right. Because for once the world fell silent, it felt like it finally belonged to just you and him. He looked ever so pretty dusted in silver, honeyed skin kissed by the wonders of the sky. Blemishes nothing but pretty places to kiss, each moment your lips touch his skin another reason for you to wonder how you even ended up here.

“I love you” you whisper.

But that never felt like enough. Three frail words that you utter over and over again, that should really lose their meaning over time, are the only words that ever seem to come to mind when it’s Jimin. Nothing fancy. Nothing poetic. Nothing that’s more than an ‘I love you’ because no matter how many times you seemed to say it, the weight of your words is always understood by Jimin.

And he laughs, “How abrupt of you”

You bite back a smile, “Sorry, it just came out”

“I might love you more, you know” His eyes close.

You press a kiss over his eyelids, “I think that’s impossible”

He hums, “I don’t”

He peeks an eye open, smiling when he sees the frown on your face.

“Every breath I take, and for every beat of my fragile heart, I will love you. Until the day I lay on my deathbed, and we must part ways, my love will be yours.” his eyes meet your own, “Though I know we’ll meet in the sky, and I’ll hand you my heart once more”

“And I’ll hand you mine” Your eyes search his, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders.

“I’m glad, my love. And I’ll cherish it for as long as you’ll allow me”

“Forever.” you say, wondering if his eyes really held galaxies or if they simply reflected the sky, “It’ll be yours forever”

“Then I have something to tell you”

Your eyebrows crease, and a strange sense of dread and excitement mixes inside of you. And you aren’t sure if you’re jittery from the cold or nerves or fear.

“What is it?” you urge.

Jimin swallows, hands travelling over your bare back and down your waist, “I’ve put down two gold coins for that house we had been talking about”

Your chest deflates, lungs wringing themselves out of all the air you had until you’re laughing. Almost falling backwards into the water if Jimin hadn’t pulled you closer to his body.

“Have you really?” you breathe, hand tangling into the hair on the back of his head, “Park Jimin, don’t lie to me”

He smiles, chest shaking with his own breathy laughter, “Never, my love. Truly it is going to be ours”

You shake your head, “How did you find the money for it”

“You know I have been working double shifts as of late” he hums, wet hands pushing your hair from your face, eager to see your blooming happiness.

“Yes, but I thought it was for your mother”

“She earns enough to feed herself, and I wanted a place of our own. And I know how much we’ve both dreamed of this moment, I had to do it”

“You’re perfect, you know that?” your lips mould into his, a moan of appreciation swallowed as you tilt your head; tongue poking at the seam of his lips.

“I do now” he huffs, pulling you in for another kiss by the back of your neck.

“We’re really going to have a home”

“Yes” he laughs, “Forever ours”

“I can’t believe it” you whisper, “Pinch me so I know it is real”

A moan gets caught in the back of your throat as Jimin’s teeth nip at the tender skin behind your ear, plush lips kissing over your skin, saliva slicked and heated.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You think you can find your and Jimin’s love in the little wonders of the world. Because as much as he wanted to hand you the universe, both of you knew that was impossible. That your love was tucked away, safer when hidden in dreams of a shared future. Tucked away in a home that was now yours forever, because neither of you had plans of going anywhere.

As selfish as it may seem, you’d stolen spring to be your own. You’d met in the spring and found a place for yourselves as flowers bloomed. You were Jimin’s spring flower and he was the sun and the moon and all the pretty things in between.

It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine, your lives were like clockwork, never stopping. It had always been that way, except now you’d stay within the precious walls of your home, and Jimin would return to you before the sun slipped behind the horizon and dinner was finished cooking on the fire.

Most mornings the both of you would wake up before sunrise, and you’d eat near-stale bread on the chairs Jimin had made outside the front door. Where once or twice a butterfly had come to kiss your nose in good morning, and then Jimin would kiss the same place over and over until you’re both giggling like it was the first time you’d kissed.

And for the days he slipped out of the house before you woke, he would leave little letters around the house for you to find throughout the day.

‘Last night I saw a star as you slept, and it reminded me of your eyes. Briefly, I thought to wake you but after seeing you so at peace, I decided to join you instead ♡’

He’d always had a secret liking towards poetry and found himself sitting with a quill and paper as the moon sat in the sky, thinking of poems about you. And only the ones that made him smile, and made his heart jump up and down inside his chest did he ever leave on his pillow for you to wake up to the next morning.

You’d clean the floors between sewing as Jimin worked as a blacksmith, lithe frame bulking up over the last couple of months. And he would make sure to leave you a note before leaving the house, with every little thing he would find that he loved about you.

‘Today’s reason is your smile ♡’

Evenings were your favourite, as were Jimin’s. Both your bodies ease into one another’s as you sit on worn-down cushions while playing checkers that your father had carved for you as a child.

Or you’d simply lay your head over Jimin’s thigh as he sings for you under the stars. Bellies almost full and hearts the most content as the universe writes your love in shooting stars, its ink the soft glow of the moon.

“I have a surprise for you next week, so take the day off” Jimin’s fingers rake through your hair, tucking it ever so delicately behind your ear.

You peel your eyes open, “And what about your own work?”

“I have already asked for a day away, no problem” He smiles down at you.

“What sort of surprise is it?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper, carried by the wind to Jimin’s ears, who hums.

He runs his thumb over his bottom lip, “I mustn’t say, it will ruin it”

“But I’ll be curious” You jab a finger into his stomach, lips curling into a smile when he leans down to capture your lips.

“Poor thing” he whispers, stealing another kiss.

‘A clue to your surprise: It reminds me of you ♡’

“I still don’t know what it is” You slide Jimin’s most recent note across the table, and he shrugs.

“Your final clue” He hands you another piece of paper.

‘Think of when we first met’

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited” Jimin laughs, arm slung over your shoulders.

You skip ahead a little, walking backwards as you smile over at Jimin who takes one of your hands, helping you twirl as if you were a princess and he was the prince. You’d spent every night sewing a new dress with leftover fabric from the tavern; a special occasion called for a special outfit.

And Jimin had smiled and laughed so much he’d almost fallen off the back of his chair as you’d spun for him. He’d called you utterly beautiful and then tugged you over his lap for a kiss, maybe two.

“Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been eager to know what your surprise is”

“Happiness looks good on you, my love” Jimin stops walking, pulling you to his chest.

“Then I must look good all the time, with you around”

“Where do you learn these things” His hand covers his mouth, a lame attempt at covering his smile.

“You”

Jimin raises his eyebrows, astounded, “When have I ever been cheesy?”

“All the time. I’ll show you when we get home, I have all those letters you’ve left me”

“You kept all those?” he gapes, footsteps falling in time with your own as you both start wandering back down the gravel path.

“Of course. I still have the first ever one you gave me, and then all the ones that came after that”

You bite your bottom lip, willing yourself not to laugh when you catch sight of Jimin’s rose-dusted cheeks.

“Then you may think I’m extra cheesy today” he announces, fingers interlacing with your own.

“Is that so?” you hum, shoulder knocking against his arm.

Jimin turns to you, “Do you trust me?”

You blink.

“Of course”

“Then please close your eyes”

“Right now?” your head tilts, eyes squinting to gauge how far away the end of the pathway is, “It doesn’t seem like we’re anywhere that a surprise could be”

“We are” he turns to you, “It won’t be a surprise if you keep looking though”

You nod, eyes narrowing; sceptical.

“If this is where you secretly murder me then I swear on my grave I will come back from the dead Park Jimin”

He laughs, “It would be impossible to live in a world without you, I wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you if it weren’t for your own pleasure”

You bring your hands to cover your eyes, back straightening when Jimin takes hold of your arm, turning you in the direction of the forest.

“Careful, the path is uneven this way” He pulls you further under the blanket of trees.

“Are we almost there” you stumble, amused laugh shaking your shoulders as Jimin’s other hand falls onto your waist to keep you steady.

“Almost”

The both of you stumble to a stop, your eyes squeezing shut behind your hands as you wander into the sun, out of the shade.

“Are you ready?”

And you hear the unease in his voice, a week of pressure building up. Bubbling until it’s now fizzling out of him in nervous rivulets, hands clammy as they run up and down your arms. His feet shuffle against crunchy grass, and this might be the most jittery you’ve ever seen Jimin.

“Yes,” you tell him, keeping your eyes closed as you take hold of his hands, squeezing his fingers between your own. Jimin swallows, Adams's apple bobbing under the weight of it.

His eyes wander over your face, “May I kiss you?”

The corner of your lips curl up at that, “Yes” you nod, leaning into his touch when he cups your cheeks.

The tension in both your shoulders releases as your lips mould together, ever so slowly, neither of you rushing as Jimin’s tongue teases into your mouth. He laps up every little noise that slips off your tongue, sweet like nectar.

Your eyes slip open, entirely focused on Jimin’s. “I really hope you like it” He keeps your focus on him, foreheads still touching, noses knocking against one another.

“May I be honest with you?”

And he hums, “Yes, of course”

“If it’s from you, then I will always love it”

“That seems a little extreme” he laughs, though unease still chews away at his mind.

“I don’t think so. Surely you would like anything I gifted you”

He nods, “Of course, I would”

“Then it’s no different for me, so please don’t worry” you whisper, eyes slipping closed once more as you press a featherlight kiss to his plush lips.

“Keep your eyes closed for a moment” he whispers back, and you hum.

Jimin’s hands fall away from your body, shadow slipping away from behind your eyelids as he steps away from you.

“Open them”

And you do.

“Oh Jimin” you whisper, a twitch of your lip the first sign of a smile.

As far as you can see, there are just flowers. The most vibrant you have ever seen, almost glowing under the warm light of the sun. For all the flowers Jimin had given you over the years, you think there must be every colour he’d ever thought to bring you; all swaying in tandem as if it were the most beautiful ocean.

The field stretches until it meets the sky, land completely hidden by a blanket of wildflowers.

You don’t know where to look, so many places to look but only two eyes. Your head is pulled in every which direction, mouth falling open in awe.

“Where did you find this place?” your voice comes out breathless, gaze only briefly meeting Jimin’s before you’re drawn back to acres of untouched land. A whole ecosystem thriving on its own, untampered with by human life.

“On the way back from a job. It reminded me of you, and I knew I had to bring you here” he steps closer to you, fingers brushing against your own.

You turn to face Jimin, “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Thank you for sharing it with me”

You slip your fingers through Jimin’s, “Would you like to dance with me?”

“Right here?” his eyes widen.

You nod, tugging him towards the sea of flowers, “Yes”

“But we have no music” his resistance nothing more than a show as he makes no move to stop you.

Wild grass tickles both your ankles, delicate petals of smaller flowers caressing your bare legs as you hike your dress up.

“That doesn’t matter” you laugh, pulling him further and further until overgrown flowers dust over your waist like gentle fingers, and a butterflies’ wings tickle your cheek.

Jimin watches as you twirl, hands outstretched for him to come closer. Your body knocks into his as he pulls you into his chest. Both of you fall in sync, as curious hands wander over arms and backs, down to waists and hips.

You flinch when something wet hits your nose, Jimin turning his face to the sky.

“It looks like it’s about to rain,” he says, and you tilt your head to look, “Perhaps we should go home”

You shake your head, “But we only just got here”

“But the rain, my love” he takes your hands, taking a step back, though your feet stay planted in their spot.

“A little bit of rain never hurt anyone” You pull him back into your body, eyes squeezing shut as a raindrop collides with your lashes.

The both of you are washed in a gust of shade, the sun hidden behind dark clouds that bleed into the horizon.

“Won’t you dance with me?” you look up at Jimin, clothes starting to mould into your skin as the sky rains more unshed tears.

“I suppose” he grins, arm falling around your waist.

Your hair clings to your foreheads, sodden leaves wetly slapping against your arms and legs. Rouge petals that had plans of rotting on the soil now hanging on to your dress and Jimin’s pants.

Your dress doesn’t fan out like a royal’s would when Jimin spins you, neither is he really dressed like a prince but the both of you feel as though you could be of that status in that moment.

Your eyes fall shut, smile never leaving your face. It’s as though your body evaporates, that the world around you fizzles upwards in little bubbles and you follow their lead. Chasing after the light that shines down on you like a beacon.

Something strange tugs at your heart, sinking you further and further into the darkness as you kick upwards until you’re spinning and the world is spinning with you. And the darkness feels all too familiar, your footsteps practised perfectly as if a routine.

Hands roam your body. Both yours and his laughter muffled underwater, a whisp of a soul slipping through your fingers when you turn towards the deep timbre of another voice, a voice far deeper than Jimin’s. His laugh vibrates in your chest as phantom hands graze against your naked skin. And he’s calling your name, your mouth opening to call back except nothing but air puffs past your lips; air bubbles caressing your cheeks as they float upwards.

Your feet move on their own without much thought as you turn in every which direction, only to ever be met by darkness; feet caught in quicksand that has you sinking further away from the light.

There’s something on the tips of your fingers as you reach out and an awful pressure squeezes at your chest and the echo– the echo of a voice you’ve heard before. Everything is awfully jumbled, words shoved down your throat, acidic in your stomach– poison as it absorbs into your bloodstream.

You stumble over your feet chasing after where the stranger’s voice had come from and suddenly your eyes are open as you collide with the floor. Brain rattling within the confines of your skull and your whole world shakes a along with you.

Jimin’s arms cage your head, chest heaving as he holds himself up over your body.

You feel puddles of water and sodden soil soak into the back of your dress as you sink further into the ground.

“Sorry” he whispers, droplets of water from his hair falling onto your cheeks.

“It’s okay, I forgot where I was for a moment” you admit, a smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

“I could tell” he laughs, falling back onto his heels.

Jimin tugs you up by your arms, pushing your wet hair out of your face.

“Maybe we should go home” he murmurs, “I’d hate to have another accident”

You nod, “I think that’s a good idea”

“Let’s go home, my love” he pushes himself to stand, and you glance down at your hands.

“Did you hear another man’s voice?” you blink away the rain from your lashes, Jimin’s eyebrows furrowing.

“No? It’s only the two of us here” he takes your hands, helping you up, “Did you hear someone?”

You shake your head, “No, it must have been something else”

“You know” Jimin starts as you trek out of the flowers, “I’ve never met anyone that loves dancing in the rain as much as you”

“I can’t explain the feeling” You turn to him, the smallest of smiles on your face.

“Then should we dance every time it rains?”

“I always dance when it rains” You pull him closer to your side, a futile attempt to steal some of his body heat.

“Yes, but I always watch. Maybe I’ll join you from now on”

“I would like that” you hum.

And that should have been the end of it. A conversation left in the past where its only leeway into your future is Jimin joining you the next time it decides to rain. Except, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

It was rotten how for those few moments the world hadn’t been yours, and Jimin hadn’t been Jimin, and you hadn’t been you. Or that the other voice that had definitely been in your head, a whisper in your ear, an echo on the other side of the dark plane. A siren’s song pulling you further into your own demise, forbidden land you should have never passed over.

It shouldn’t have been anything more than how much you truly loved dancing in the rain, where it was just something you had always loved and always done without thinking much about it.

You turn your head to look at Jimin who lay beside you, finally asleep after the both of you had taken a bath. So at peace with himself and the world, as the weight of emotions, you’re unfamiliar with breathe down the back of your neck and you lay awake.

It’s when you close your eyes, you start to fall. And the eyes that meet yours when you open them aren’t Jimin’s.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

For every life you lived after this one, the love you had here will cling onto you forever, sticky like you’d dipped your fingers in molasses. And maybe it’s because this had been the first time you’d learnt what love truly was, or maybe Taehyung had carved such a large hole in your heart that only he could ever truly fill. So even in life after him, he continues to burrow inside of you as his soul finally rests.

Pure love was an addicting feeling. And maybe Taehyung had made you greedy, grabbing onto such a wonderful feeling over and over until it destroyed you. It wasn’t fair to blame him, but surely your greed had stemmed from somewhere.

And love could only ever be as magical as you’d imagined it if it begins with Taehyung.

And so, the story of your first life, and therefore your first love starts with Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung and Jimin had been the most similar of your loves. Both of them had always liked the more delicate things in life.

Taehyung liked to read how whimsical the ocean was, white seafoam as gentle as clouds, and waves that caressed ankles that wandered the shore. Or how the stars always seemed that little bit brighter when you were in love, the universe shining its approval of something so perfect. He liked the idea of faeries that danced under the light of the moon, or reading forbidden love stories and poems that hurt his heart. Only to be mended with stories of truer love and lifetimes dedicated to another being.

Taehyung’s sole purpose in life was to become a duke and run the estate after his father passed. Except he had never liked to be shoved into a mould, crafted by hands that had no care, rough as they shaped him. He despised the fact his life was gifted to him just so he could be chained to a role he had no purpose of fulfilling.

His spirit had always been that of a wild bird, curious about things he had no business knowing, and wanting to wander where forbidden.

He loved the freedom that birds had, how beautiful their feathers were, gliding through the sky without a care in the world. They had something he didn’t, and maybe his admiration had stemmed from some weird sense of jealousy. But, that never stopped the look of pure joy on his face whenever he caught a glimpse of a dove dancing on the waves of the wind.

One of Taehyung’s hobbies had become complaining about his classes. The both of you giggled under one of the trees outside his window, shoulders knocking against each other’s as he told you stories of how his politics tutor was surely a witch, and there was no doubt in his mind that his literature teacher was a ghoul.

The world felt as though it were crumbling at his feet on the days the two of you couldn’t meet. And so, he’d send you letters in secret, asking to meet at the front gate of the estate; where he’d hand you flowers through the bars, or kiss the back of your hand, only to beckon you closer when that doesn’t feel like enough. His plush lips warming your cheeks until he finds your lips and the both of you are melting into cold metal bars, the shyest smiles on both your faces when a maid catches the both of you.

Most days were spent in the garden, or the drawing room where the both of you could talk for hours. You liked flicking through catalogues of dresses for the coming seasons, always asking Taehyung what he thought. Wondering if he’d like a new broach for his jackets, or if a new waistcoat would suit him. How wonderful the both of you would look matching, with a handkerchief you’d embroidered for him sat in his breast pocket– every gentle prick of the needle through fabric and each delicate line of tread, laced with love that lays beside his gently beating heart.

Taehyung liked to recount all the things he adored about love, reciting poems and lines of novels he’d read before bed, and then telling you everything he adored about you. Because ‘love’ and ‘you’ should always fall in the same sentence in his eyes. Love would never truly be ‘love’ if you weren’t in the picture. Your silhouette was painted within each frame of his life, tucked in corners of the canvas or slipped far within his heart and mind.

Taehyung and love were perhaps a synonym of one another.

He was the epitome of love.

All things romance and passion, and all things special between two people that have you shy and kicking your feet. Every moment feels like the long-awaited kiss after chapters of build-up and tension, where you have to look away from the book for a brief moment to recollect your thoughts and then bite your nails to hide a smile.

If you had to describe Taehyung in one word, you think you’ll always gravitate towards eccentric.

“I think the reason I was born, was to love you” he’d told you one evening, the stars like a halo around his head as he’d taken your hands into his own.

You hadn’t known what to say, the corners of your lips quirking up at the sides because, of course, he’d utter such sweet words while the both of you laze in the gardens. Not quite ready to part ways just yet. Even if your carriage had been sat outside the house for over an hour, and your supper was probably sat on the table at home.

“What a sorry reason to be born” you’d whispered back.

“I don’t think so. The opposite, in fact” he tugs you a little across the grass, closer between his legs, “What is the point of life if it isn’t for unconditional love? And a mind that functions with the sole purpose of loving another?”

Maybe it was that moment that you realised you loved love. That you loved loving Taehyung and you loved that he loved you just as much as you loved him, if not more.

“Then, you’re my reason for living” It had fallen off your tongue quicker than you had thought to catch it. Though the smile that had stretched onto Taehyung’s face is one that will forever be etched into your mind, it had been innocent, content.

You’d seen him smile so many times and yet, something had shifted in your mind, any qualms you had about letting go and succumbing to the purest form of adoration had fizzled out in both your hands.

Because life wasn’t so bad when you had someone to love.

“Just as you are my reason to live” he says.

“I hope the both of us live forever so I never forget this feeling” you’d interlaced your fingers, cheeks flushing the lightest pink that’s veiled by the silver moonlight. Though he probably feels how warm you are when he cups your face, pressing a kiss over the tip of your nose.

“Forever?” he hums, “Even if you were to forget, I would remind you over and over for as long as we’re together, and every life after that”

“I’ll remind you too then” you promise, though Taehyung laughs, chest vibrating under the weight of his voice.

“I could never forget, not when it comes to you, my love”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You don’t remember when you’d met Taehyung, you think he’d always just been there.

Perhaps the both of you had snuck out of a ball back in the day, two rowdy children giggling on the balcony as you whispered about guests. Which ones you liked, or the ones your mothers’ would mutter about under their breath. The both of you had done it so many times that it would be fitting for your first encounter. A habit the both of you would keep up as you grew older as well.

Or maybe the both of you had camped out under the tables while your mothers flitted from group to group, and you’d stolen cakes from plates and perfectly cut sandwiches from unattended trays. Where you’d exchange slices of tomato for his pieces of cucumber, and you’d both share squares of cake from one fork.

Friends from childhood had started bleeding into something a little more as the two of you grew and realized that maybe friendship wasn’t enough for either of you. And maybe that had been the little seedling from where your never-ending greed stemmed from. A constant feral need for constant love that was depicted in careful strokes of paintings and well-thought-out words bled onto a page with dark ink.

Taehyung had known early on that it was always going to be you he married. There was no doubt in his mind that you were going to wed. It was not often he put his foot down when it came to the choices made for him in life, and making it a point he had no interest in any other woman than you, had always been a point he’d made extremely clear.

Marriage hadn’t been something you’d put much thought into until Taehyung would bring it up as you drank tea together of an afternoon. And after the little seed of possibility had been planted in your mind, you knew you wanted to marry Taehyung.

And you’d never second-guessed yourself, because if it was going to be anyone, then it was going to be your best friend.

“If I were to wear a white dress, would you wear a white suit?” you lay the magazine over your chest. Taehyung pushes his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose when he tilts his head down to look at you; head resting over his thigh.

“If that is what you want” he hums, “White flowers may be too much, so let’s add colour”

You run a finger over your bottom lip, “Purple?”

“Of course” he nods, “I’ll braid them into your hair too” his fingers tickle over your hairline.

You push yourself to sit up on your elbows, “I think it’s bad luck if the groom sees the bride in her dress on the morning of the wedding”

Taehyung runs his thumb over his bottom lip, “To hell with tradition”

“Your mother isn’t going to be very happy” you smile, “All she ever talks about is the perfect wedding”

Taehyung smiles, “Yes, but it isn’t her wedding. I think I’d be beyond miserable if we weren’t to see each other, I must tell you how beautiful you look before we meet at the end of the alter”

“It would only be a few hours” you press, eyebrows raising.

“A few hours too many. Who is supposed to help me with my tie if not you?”

You fully sit up now, “You’d have a maid or two aiding you”

Taehyung frowns, whatever paperwork he was reading long forgotten on the couch as he tugs your legs over his thighs, fingers dancing over the bare skin covered by your skirt.

“But they don’t do it as you do, and I have to look my best the day we tie souls and vow to be lovers for the rest of our time alive. It’s an important day”

“I suppose you’re right” you hum, brushing his hair from his forehead, “I too, would be lonely if we were to part on such a joyous day”

It hadn’t been long after the both of you had entered adulthood that Taehyung’s father had died, and only a few months after that the two of you had gotten married.

You’d worried for Taehyung, knowing that even though his relationship with his father had never been the best, at least a small part of him should have been sad that his soul had left to rest. But no matter how much you lightly prodded, and made sure to ask if he were okay, Taehyung never shed a tear.

He never truly found a way to articulate his feelings; losing someone he never saw as a father left the smallest hole in his heart. A pinprick, because Taehyung wasn’t heartless and knew the old man had brought him into this world, something he will forever be grateful for– but that was it.

For the thousands of days you and Taehyung had spent together, the day he had proposed would be your second favourite of them all. He hadn’t made it extravagant, nor did he make it a huge point by proposing at a large gathering. He knew you despised those sorts of events, so he had asked you to be his bride at your favourite spot.

The pond in Taehyung’s gardens had always been your favourite. It felt as though the world only belonged to the two of you when you spent evenings alone, sat on the bench, where fireflies danced over the water, their reflection like little stars scattered across the pond, the moon so much larger in its reflection than it looked in the sky.

The day of your wedding, and all the days after that would forever take the top spot.

Taehyung had always loved your soul. He knew you were pretty, of course, you were; you were the most ethereal being he had ever come across.

The faeries and pretty little wonders he read about, he always pictured you in their place. But it wasn’t always about the way you looked that had Taehyung coming back for more, or his heart thumping ever so hard against the skin of his chest whenever you were around.

He thought you had the most wonderful soul that he liked to dip his fingers into, gentle like the softest waves, or cradle it to his chest. The most delicate part of you, ever so precious, the rawest form of yourself that he’d hold on to for as long as he was allowed. Because if one day the two of you were to ever part, he’d find the path of your soul, trace his fingers through every dip and curve he’d memorized, and make his way back to your side.

The night of your wedding, the night the both of you had given yourself to one another fully, was never a moment Taehyung thought he’d be ready for. It’s not that he was second-guessing his choice– sometimes in life the moments we’ve been waiting for feel like a lifetime away. So many hours and even more minutes between now and then, that when the day stumbles before you in all its joyous glory, no amount of falling into your mind in silent preparation had ever truly prepared you for this.

Taehyung had worshipped your body like you were his only goddess, you were his religion, his reason for life and death and everything he breathed and consumed in his fragile mortal body. Your souls knotting as your lips pressed so gently against one another, their pinkies forever intertwined as they melted like candle wax and hardened as one lifeform.

Taehyung particularly loved the feeling of your nails digging into the delicate skin of his shoulders. A feeling forever ingrained into his mind, sending a shiver up his spine when his mind wanders to how you looked in candlelight, spread bare for him to defile.

The both of you felt as though the honeymoon phase was nothing but lies, an easy scare for those who fell too fast, drowning in acidic love that dragged two people away from one another in harsh waves. Because for you and Taehyung, it never ended.

Every day that you woke up to Taehyung beside you, had you burying your face in your pillow, smile so hard to contain you covered it up with a kiss to Taehyung’s lips as he slowly woke up.

“I love you” he’d murmur, eyes barely open.

“I love you more” a hand cupping his cheek, you’d press a kiss to his jaw; sometimes tickled by the stubble that had grown in.

Something ever so mundane, yet it always seemed to bring you so much happiness.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

For a week during the summer, Taehyung would hand his duties over to his assistant and take you away for a short vacation.

You liked the little house the both of you owned on the other side of town, secluded from the rest of the world.

It had been one summer when your love for rain had started. You often found yourself reading by the window when the summer showers would pay you a visit, dousing the garden in muddy puddles and the gentle pitter-patter of the world’s tears hitting the ground easy white noise as you danced across pages of books. Or simply watched Taehyung sits on the piano bench, only so he could sit in your company.

Taehyung had always loved playing the piano, one of his many loves that he’d buried with the immense amount of work that had piled on to him since taking the seat as head of the household. The grand piano that sat in the far room of the house was his secret door of salvation.

“Will you play me a piece?” you motion towards the piano, doors to the garden hooked open. Sure to slam shut with the wind picking up. The air was a little sweeter that afternoon, a gentle breeze raking through your hair, licking at the tops of the pages of your book.

“I haven’t played for a while” Taehyung closes his own book, “But if it’s for you, I could never say no”

You take a seat beside Taehyung as he flexes his fingers, gently running his hand over the ivory keys.

“Would you like me to get your music book?” you lay your head on his shoulder.

He shakes his head, “No, it’s alright. I doubt I’d remember how to read much of it anyways”

“Do you remember my favourite piece?”

Taehyung’s tongue wets his bottom lip, “I should hope so”

Your eyes close as the first note penetrates the air, your head jostling slightly as Taehyung reaches the other end of the keys, his cheek knocking against the top of your head. The tips of his fingers dance elegantly, gentle with each deep hum of the piano’s song.

You perk up at the first sound of rain, barely there, almost concealed by Taehyung as his movements become bolder, each thick note more pronounced, each deep hum vibrating through your skin.

You lift your head from his shoulder, “I didn’t think it would rain today”

You take one look at Taehyung, the smallest smile teasing at his lips when you stand. You kick your slippers off by the open door, toes curling into the damp grass as you step outside.

You blink as a raindrop falls on your nose, slipping until it’s wetting your lips. You turn back to look at Taehyung, waving when he lifts his head to look at you; and he winces when he presses the wrong note.

You wander further into the garden, hiking your skirt up so it won’t drag across the wet soil.

As the rain gets heavier the sound of the piano is slowly drowned out, the world yours for the moment before you’re turning back to Taehyung.

“Tae” you call back inside, beckoning him over when he turns towards you, “Come dance with me”

The piano is left and forgotten as Taehyung pushes himself to stand, shoes piled with your slippers as Taehyung steps into the garden. He slinks towards you, hair starting to cling to his forehead as the rain gets heavier.

“You’ll catch a cold” he takes your hand, tugging you into his chest.

“But the world is so beautiful when it rains”

“Just this once I’ll indulge you” he presses a kiss to your forehead.

As much as the world looks wonderful in that moment, Taehyung outshined it all. Your clothes stuck to the both of you like a second skin, your hair tickling the side of your face, clinging to you like sticky wet vines down the back of your neck.

Taehyung’s hands wander your body, pulling you closer when you start to drift away– your hips finally falling in sync. All those hours of classes on how to dance are washed away by the rain as the both of you stumble, almost falling over each other’s feet.

“Look” you point towards the back of the estate, “there’s a rainbow” you laugh.

Taehyung follows your line of sight, “How pretty” he hums, his hands falling to your waist.

Your fingers tease over his chest, heart hammering under his skin, mere seconds away from jumping out of his skin. Taehyung’s hands wander further down, a surprised moan catching in the back of your throat when he grabs the meat of your ass; tugging you into his body. And you can feel his growing erection against your stomach.

“Not in the garden” you whisper, fingers trailing lower until you’re gently tugging at his belt.

Taehyung leans down, warm breath fanning the side of your neck. He presses a wet kiss to the unblemished skin, “I wouldn’t give the serving staff the pleasure of seeing you fall apart for me” he whispers, sodden hair falling over your shoulder.

You take his hands from where they’re teasing over the top of your thighs, “Let’s go” you take long strides back towards the house.

“Where to, my love?” he trails after you, the most giddy smile on his face.

You look at him over your shoulder, “Our bedroom”

Your feet slap wetly against the tile floors, muddy footprints trailing behind the both of you. Youthful joy thrums throughout your body, giggles hard to keep down as the both of you stagger through the hallway towards the bedroom.

Taehyung’s overzealous in the way he opens the door, and you both wince when it bangs against the wall. The briefest clarity grazes your mind before lust sets back in, and all you can focus on is the incessant throbbing between your legs, and the man stood before you.

You kick the door closed, Taehyung pulling his wet shirt over his head when you turn back to him– your dress is soon to follow.

“Would you mind helping me?” you turn your back to Taehyung, shoulders curling inwards as his fingers trace over the intricate ribbing of your corset.

He’s gentle as he tugs at the ribbons, and you heave a sigh of relief, muscles finally easing a little. Dull throb sinks out of your ribs as you heave a deep breath.

You turn around, Taehyung’s eyes trailing to your bare chest, curving down the slope, fingers itching at his sides to sink and dig his nails into the plush flesh. He swallows, Adams's apple bobbing under the weight of desire.

“My beautiful wife” he whispers, hands running up the length of your arms before he’s teasing the edge of your breasts. You trace over his belt, tugging impatiently as he pulls you towards the bed.

You fall backwards onto the mattress, air momentarily punched from your lungs. Taehyung’s arms cage your head, thigh nudging your legs open for him.

Your wet hair sticks to your neck, small droplets of water falling over your cheeks from Taehyung’s own hair as his eyes wander over your face. Windows to his soul wide open as sickly sweet love dances within his eyes, adoration you know you’ll never get from another man bared naked, yours for the taking.

You rut up against his knee, damp cotton panties dragging deliciously against your clit.

Taehyung’s arms flex as he leans down, plush lips trailing down your jaw, gently plucking soft moans from the back of your throat with every mean nip of his teeth over delicate skin.

Your thighs clamp around Tae’s leg, arms slithering around his shoulders as you use him for your own pleasure, short bursts of pure arousal wracking up your body with every purposeful tense of his muscles.

“Good girl” he groans, falling to hold himself up by his elbows as his lips map out the rest of your body– kissing over your neck, the underside of your breasts, down towards your stomach. You whine as he kneels before you, hips bucking upwards to try and chase the slowly fizzling pleasure.

He kisses your mound over your underwear, tips of his fingers barely brushing over your clit as he trails them down towards your covered folds. Thumb splitting your labia, guttural groan rumbling from his chest as he feels your slick heat.

He can’t seem to stifle the chuckle that slips past his lips either as you whine, the most pitiful pout tugging onto your face as he teases you.

“How needy” he croons, adding a little more pressure over your entrance, “I’ll make sure to make you feel good”

You lift your hips, a silent invitation for him to tug your panties off, and he does, dropping them beside him; forgotten as he looks at your slick soaked pussy.

“Tae” you whisper, impatient as your fingers tangle into his wet hair, careful as you try and tug him closer to where you needed him most without hurting him.

“Hm?” he hums, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he pushes them open a little wider, making it easier for him to slip closer to his favourite place.

Your toes curl as he bends, placing the lightest kiss over your clit, “Want you”

“Want you too, my love” he murmurs, hot breath fanning over your folds.

He licks a bold stripe from your entrance to your clit, tongue dipping past your walls before he’s pulling back, wad of spit dribbling over your already sodden cunt.

Your thighs threaten to twitch closed, and when Taehyung notices this he tugs them over his shoulders, dragging you a little further to the edge of the bed.

His thumb teases over your clit, thrumming at the sensitive little bud as he pushes his tongue back inside of you. The moan you let out is sure to have echoed down the halls, your embarrassment only amplified when you feel another dribble of slick gush past your walls, sure to coat Taehyung’s chin shiny.

“M’ gonna cum” you hiccup, hips frantically bucking upwards as Taehyung further smothers his face into your pussy.

He hums, a new wave of arousal coursing through your body at the unexpected vibrations.

It’s a haphazard flick of your clit that has you tumbling head first into your orgasm, thighs quivering as they clamp around Taehyung’s head, though that doesn’t seem to deter him as he licks into your cunt, swallowing down your release.

“S’ too much” you sob, hands pushing your lover from between your thighs. He kisses your knee, head flopping across your leg as he looks up at you.

Your stomach clenches at the dopey smile on his face, thumb running over his bottom lip, still shiny with your arousal.

“Are you tired, my love?” he asks, fingers curling around your wrists, kissing your palm, then the tips of each finger.

You shake your head, “I can still go if you’d like”

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you”

You swallow, unexplainable love swelling inside your chest.

“Please make love to me” you whisper, pink hue deepening in shade on your cheeks as Taehyung stands at full height, shucking off whatever clothes he still had on.

You can’t help but wet your lips, watching as he runs a gentle hand over his length, slicking his cock up with pearly beads of precome.

You push yourself up further on the bed, legs falling open as Taehyung kneels before you.

He runs a finger through your folds, barely dipping a fingertip inside of you before he’s pulling out, pushing your thighs further apart.

He guides his cock to your entrance, slicking the head with your cum before he’s gently pushing into you. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, cunt clenching around Taehyung’s length as he gently rocks into you.

He groans, barely pulling out before feeding you another inch. His hands roam up the length of your body as he finally bottoms out, hips rutting into you by habit.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss which he melts into, eyes fluttering shut as he tilts his head, tongue teasing over the seam of your lips.

He licks up into your mouth, concoction of your saliva clinging to his tongue when he pulls back.

“Ready?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Mmhmm” you hum, muscles falling lax as Taehyung pushes your thighs up to your chest. He almost pulls out, the air punched from your lungs as he snaps back into you.

Unabashed, you moan, Taehyung’s name tumbling from your lips like it were the only word you knew as he thrusts into you.

It’s wet when Taehyung’s thighs meet your ass, sticky with arousal that clings to both your skin and moans a harmony with one another.

Your hand snakes down the length of your body, between your thighs, teasing over your clit as Taehyung throws his head back, utterly consumed by unadulterated pleasure.

“Together” he groans, hips losing their calculated pace.

His cockhead nudges over your sweet spot, a whine dripping off your lips that Taehyung catches, kiss messy, teeth clashing.

You pick up the pace on your clit, fizzling pleasure slipping down your spine, slick gushing from your hole, so many feelings, so many emotions– all amplified as endorphins buzz at your brain, a shockwave of dopamine setting you alight.

You feel Taehyung twitch between your walls, your pussy clenching sporadically around his length as he nears his orgasm.

Taehyung tips over the edge before you do, creamy white cum painting your walls in thick ropes. Your own orgasm following as you feel another wave of Taehyung’s seed flood your cunt.

His hips twitch as you continue to clench around him, pushing his release further into you.

Your chest stutters as you try and catch your breath, fingers splayed over your mound as you fall back into reality.

Your moan as Taehyung pulls out, a hiccup following as he presses a kiss to your cheek. His fingers gather up the dribble of cum that follows his cock, pushing it back inside of you. And you twitch at that, overstimulated.

He reaches behind your head for a pillow, your thighs falling to the bed, to which Taehyung tuts.

“Lift your hips up for me, darling” he soothes, singular hand gathering both your ankles, pulling the lower half of your body from the mattress so he can slip the pillow underneath you.

“You’d look awfully pretty baring my child” his hand trails down your stomach, over your womb.

“I hope this time we are lucky” you tell him, finger interlacing with the ones over your stomach.

“Me too, my love. Our child would be the most precious little thing”

You smile, eyes slipping shut as you paint the image of what your baby would look like, “I hope they look like you”

“I’d always wished they’d look like you. Their mother holds all the beauty of this cruel world”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your chest, “Then how about they look like the both of us, as their father shares all of that beauty”

“That would be wonderful” Taehyung pushes himself off the bed, slipping on a robe that had been forgotten on one of the chairs that morning.

“What if they aren’t a boy?” your hands fall over your chest, watching Taehyung as he gathers the bowl of water and towels.

He turns to look at you, “What would it matter if they were a girl?” his eyebrows furrow.

“Wouldn’t you need an heir”

He wets his bottom lip, “Boy or girl, I’m not bothered, my love. If we were to have a son then I would never subject them to the horrors of becoming heir. And if we have a precious little daughter, I would love her all the same, and if one day she decides she wants to take over the estate then I would let her”

The corners of your lips tug up into a smile, “Then I am glad” Your hand finds his as he takes a seat beside you on the bed, dipping the towel into water, gently dragging it over your sweat-slicked skin.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Falling in love with Taehyung had made you a lot of things.

Juvenile had never been on top of that list, though when you think about it, it really should have been. Or that somewhere written in the fine print of your story, neither of you would die, that you’d both freeze in time and continue your lives for the rest of eternity.

Some days when you’d sit alone, you wish Monet had been around during your life with Taehyung. His paintings as beautiful as the love you shared. Paintings full of purpose, the world through the eyes of a man– impressionist paintings that had so much raw colour, so much more vibrance than the real world.

You wish he’d have been able to put paint to canvas, where every gentle stroke of his brush was a piece of stupid, young naivety put into breath-taking art. Meaningful, purposeful, and beautiful. Because your ignorance would have made a beautiful collection, a series of a time when the future wasn’t as perfect as his art. Bringing both you and your lover to downfall.

Your life was not the art of Monet, nor was it as mesmerising as Van Gogh’s Starry Night. You weren’t frozen in time like you were part of history, forever documented on paper and hung for the world to see.

You were naive enough to think that with Taehyung’s new rise to power, somewhat unexpected in high society, he wouldn’t have one or two enemies.

The end of your first life hadn’t been what you had wanted it to be.

As much as you remember the day you had gotten married or all the afternoons you and Taehyung had spent in the garden, dancing in the rain, under rainbows and the sun that peeked through the clouds, there to celebrate your love just as much as the both of you were; what was supposed to be the perfect ending like all the far-fetched stories Taehyung read, this was more of a tragedy.

Because that’s what it was– farfetched.

You remember the afternoon that the perfect life you had, had crumbled. Sand slipping through your fingers, falling to the bottom of the hourglass.

You lay on the couch, your foot tapping against the arm, Taehyung’s quil tinking against the bottle of ink. In recent months you’d found yourself reading Taehyung’s favourite books, all of their spines worn down, loved and read over and over.

“Do you smell that?” you push yourself up onto your elbows, the book laid over your lap.

“Smell what, my darling?” he takes off his glasses, hand running over his tired eyes.

Your eyes meet Tae’s, “Something smells as though it’s burning”

The both of you sit in silence for a moment before Taehyung pushes his chair back, peering out the window. His fingers try and pull at the latch, finding it stuck, and he turns back to you.

“Maybe I’m imagining it” you tell him when you see his eyebrows furrow.

“I can definitely smell something” he turns back to you, “I can’t tell what. Go and call someone to open this window, it’s jammed”

Your book is dropped onto the couch as you push yourself up, you go to open the door to Taehyung’s office, only for the door not to open. You push a little harder, shoulder knocking uncomfortably against the hardwood.

You press an ear to the door.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asks, stalking towards you.

“It won’t open”

Taehyung makes a noise from the back of his throat, and you step out of the way when he takes hold of the door handle.

He mirrors your earlier action, shoulder knocking against the door.

“It won’t open” he turns to you.

“I know, my love” A gentle smile moulds onto your lips.

You press your ear to the door again, “Do you hear that?”

Taehyung follows; ear pressed to the door, “Burning?”

“Burning?” you stand straight.

You crouch down, fingers feeling over the gap between the floor and door, “Hello?” you call out, hand flinching away as heat licks over your fingers.

“Is anyone there?” Taehyung shouts, fist banging against the door.

“Taehyung” you tug at his shirt, trying to pull him away from the door. He relents, taking a step forwards, “Taehyung, it’s a fire” You take his hand.

“What?”

“It’s a fire” You show him your fingertips, hands shaking slightly as the reality of what was happening settles in.

“You’re hurt” he murmurs, “If one of the staff would just answer we could treat your wounds” his lips barely brush over the burn.

“Taehyung it’s barely an injury, not when we’re locked in here with a fire right outside that door”

He swallows, “We’ll find a way out”

“How?” you dare ask, “We can’t go out the window, that’s suicide from this high up”

His foot taps against the floor, hand running over his jaw in thought.

Your focus is snatched away from your lover when something creaks, burning flames slithering under the crack under the door, molten snakes with no goal in mind.

Taehyung pulls you further into his office, the door crackling as the flames start to chew it up, an onslaught of heat spilling into the room. You can smell the gasoline, splintered wood glistening in it as the door creaks off its hinges, flinging the fire further into the office, and you watch as it singes over the carpet.

The flames dance before you, a mesmerising dance, crawling up the walls, heated footsteps stalking across the rug, heady puffs of carbon monoxide smoking into the air.

Your hand flies to cover your mouth when a thin wisp of smoke slips down your windpipe, tickling your throat and searing at the inside of your lungs.

Taehyung pulls you into his chest as you back into the wall furthest away from the fire, “It’s going to be okay” he heaves, his own hand covering his nose and mouth, dry cough spluttering past his lips.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the fire slinks closer to the both of you, dangerously close, teasing as it flicks at your ankles, its amble arms chewing up the bookcases, rage only amplifying with each novel it consumes.

You catch sight of a silhouette standing outside the office, body veiled by thick flames that continue to slink into the office. Another splash of gasoline only makes it burn brighter, sweat tickling the back of your neck.

Your arms slip around Taehyung’s waist, and he helps you both sit on the ground, arms now holding your shoulders. A lame attempt at holding you away from the blazing fire that creeps closer.

Your lungs can’t seem to get enough oxygen, panic setting into your bones as you heave for a full breath. Your eyes water as you choke on what should have been a rush of oxygen, only your lungs burn with the ash that settles inside of you, clinging to your windpipe– coating the inside of your mouth.

“Try not to–” Taehyung coughs, hand lifting to clasp around his throat, cheeks flushing a deep red “-breathe it in too much– cyanide”

A yelp gets caught in your throat as the flames flicker too close to you, singing the hem of your dress. You try and kick it away, hand flapping down to make sure the fire doesn’t chew at any more of your clothing. You try to ignore the prickly burn to your bare skin, eyes squeezing shut as you try and curl in on yourself to make you smaller.

You tug on Taehyung’s shirt, dry cough lurching your body forward that Taehyung tries to catch only to heave.

“I love you” you whisper, the both of you cornered. Nowhere to run.

The figure stood outside the office long gone, fire now out of their control. A wild beast that had no plans of stopping until it had chewed and gnawed at your home, until it had nothing to fuel it anymore, leaving behind piles of ash and broken dreams– charred bodies and guilty minds to the ones who had started this.

You flinch backwards when Taehyung’s desk folds in on itself, flames spitting out its joy as the planks of wood slowly char under the heat; a warning for your own destiny.

His fingers lace into the hair on the back of your head, pulling you into him, “And I love you. When the both of us are reborn, I will find you, and we can fall in love all over again” he manages, the flames looking like hellish wings behind his back, slowly licking at his shirt, sizzling the fabric– more chemicals sifting through the air and into your fragile lungs.

Taehyung curls further into you when the fire licks at his shoes, easily chewing through the leather, deft fingertips tracing up his legs, and over his body.

“Don’t say that” Your fingers loosen their grasp on his shirt as you heave for another breath, mind entirely gone as you spin, the world spinning with you. Your brain felt as though it were being flushed out with helium, pressure so much you think it might explode.

Your eyes squeeze shut.

And when you open again, Jimin’s there.

His eyes still wide with shock.

You feel bile rise up your throat at the sight of him, blood smeared across his perfect face, puncture still oozing red from his neck soaking through his shirt fully. Your floor is in no better shape, though you think there's as much of your own blood as there is his.

“Jimin?” you whisper, vision momentarily veiled by salty tears that fall down your cheeks like pitiful pearls, mixing with the crimson the drips from a gash in your head, dull ache migrating to behind your eyes.

“Jimin you have to wake up now. Please”

He doesn’t move, not when you hear footsteps from the other room– heavy boots that clatter against old wood– not when you call his name. Not when the front door creaks closed and the world is silent once more, or when your chest stutters out another breath and you feel another wave of blood gush out of your stomach, adding to the puddle below the both of you.

“Jimin” you call again, choking on your own sob, fists balling up, “Jimin, please don’t leave me. I’m scared”

You look into his eyes. Nothing. All signs of life spilt onto the floor.

In a sick and twisted way, you’re glad Jimin had gone before you.

You’d have hated it if he had to watch you dead on the bedroom floor while he slowly follows you. At least now you could be with him a little longer, even if you couldn’t tell him goodbye for the last time. Or tell him how much you love him, or how happy he’d made you, or how grateful you are.

So many words left unsaid, that you swallow back down with a sob. And they mix with the bile that singes your throat, so close to spilling onto the puddle of red as you make eye contact with your dead lover.

You drag your body through the blood on the floor, closer until your chest is pressed against Jimin’s and your body falls lax against him, arm slung over his side.

You press the palm of your hand against your open wound, what little hope you had left inside of you, the smallest voice whispering that maybe you could survive. Though somewhere deeper down you know that your soul will soon follow Taehyung’s, and now Jimin's too.

You push your head into the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, tangy, metallic blood staining your lips as you kiss over the tainted skin.

He was still warm, skin still very much his as your fingers skim over his back. Ever so gentle as though he would crack if you weren’t careful. And you would have gathered him up in your arms if you’d had the strength.

And at that final moment when it settles within your mind and your heart that your body can no longer hold onto the slither of life still inside of you– the easing thump of your heart mellowing inside your chest. You remember the little note Jimin left on his pillow for you to wake up to that morning.

“When you and I hug, our hearts are locked behind our ribcages and touch through our skin. Always beating in sync. And for as long as my heart beats beside yours, it will belong to you. For those moments we part, perhaps it falls out of sync, and when we reunite, my heart may just be reminded who it beats for. And we will be in sync once more ♡’

☆ﾟ thank you for reading!! reblogs are always appreciated, and please let me know what you think!!

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc

325 notes · View notes