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clubdionysus · 2 days

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[BAD DECISION #61] Jinxing It

warnings: (1) mention of toe socks, chess talk, showers, a lil bit of titty luvin, lots of kisses, oral (f&m), fingering, ass play (m), whimpery koo <3, a lil cum swapping, the starluvrs are v cute!!! lots of lil clues and hints about upcoming chapters!!

a/n: there's an authors note over on a03 so I'll you spare you my nonsense! but hi, welcome back!! sorry for the wait on this one <33 if you're only just discovering bd, hello---this is part of an on-going story and includes an established relationship, to be read in context with the rest of the story, it's not a oneshot ^^. for kofi subs, there'll be a BD 62 teaser in a few hours!

wc: 13.7K

bd total wc: 560k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Life dissolves with Jeongguk. Days merge into one.

Like a tablet in water, or stardust into the atmosphere, time melts.

So does Jeongguk, though. He sinks into the bliss with you. Crumbles. Collapses. You’d go as far to say he turns into a supernova, like stars often do when they collapse.

He lets himself merge into a shared identity that he’s certain isn’t normal of such a fledgling relationship.

Two weeks from the auction, and days have rolled on by without much fuss. Deals have been finalised on winning bids, and Jeongguk’s had meetings with realtors, Yoongi by his side every step of the way. Everything has happened without much thought. Life has just been accepted; new plans and opportunities integrated into the trajectory you’re on. No meteors to throw you off course nor cosmic calamities to falter your future.

Your name is on the interview list for Shinwon’s position, and Jeongguk’s due to be accepting the keys for the building tomorrow. Everything is as it should be.

It’s terrifying, in a way.

You spent so long fearing the rug being swept from beneath your feet, but with Jeongguk’s help, carpets have been laid. They’re not budging.

And nor is he as he sits across from you, legs crossed, his chessboard keeping you apart. It’s a rarity to be on his bed not wrapped up in one another—but he’s almost as serious about chess as he is about you. Almost .

“You know what to do,” he grins, adamant that his crash course in the game was easy to follow. In reality, he’d moved a few pieces, said a few words, and promised with a smile that you’d be able to beat him.

His belief in you is sweet, but entirely misplaced. You’ve not made a single move without his gentle encouragement, most times resulting in you giving the match up on a silver platter.

The correct terminology evades you, and so do the rules. An app sits on your phone unused, a subscription running up a small fortune from a membership never used. It was set up back in the early days of knowing Jeongguk. You swore one day you’d be able to beat him—but life got busy, and quite frankly, chess is not your chosen way to unwind.

But spending time with Jeongguk is, and so you’ll take him in any capacity you can have him.

“Which one should I move?” You pout, utterly transfixed on the chess pieces. There’s a bewildered panic to your expression, brows furrowed over your glittery eyes, hand hovering to and fro over your side of the board.

You single in on the bishop. Look his way with hopeful, wide eyes. He shakes his head.

“Diagonals only,” he reminds you of how bishops move, at which point you realise it’s blocked in by pawns. Your hand moves to one of them, and he shrugs. “I mean… you can .”

“But should I?”

“You wanna capture the king,” he says, reaching across to dictate your movements. He secures your grip on the pawn, and gently pushes it up a single square to free the bishop’s pathway. “Shift this one up, just one space. Clear the diagonal if you want to move the bishop.”

You do as he says, putting the pawn back in its original position so that you can be the one to place it. Slowly, you repeat his instructions, pushing the pawn up the board while Jeongguk nods.

And then he grins in such a way that you just know you're about to curse him out.

He lifts his strategically placed knight. Knocks your freshly moved pawn. Claims the tile as his own.

“Rule number one,” He smirks, lip ring flipping in the corner of his pretty little mouth. “Never trust your opponent.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” you whine, looking at him with a faux sense of hurt and a very believable pout. “You’re my boyfriend . You’re supposed to help .”

“No moaning,” he dismisses your stropping, knowing he’s lost brownie points for his deception. He also knows he’ll earn your favour back soon enough, so whatever. “Now, what's your next move, baby? Go on.”

You study the board, and assess how different the opposing sides look.

This time, he’s going easy on you. Kind of. You’ve almost exclusively been guided by him for the last half an hour, over a string of short games, all of which have ended with your very quick and immediate defeat.

Jeongguk is too competitive for his own good. Jimin never wants to play against him, ‘cause he knows he’ll lose, too.

This is an indulgence for Jeongguk. He ought not to waste the opportunity—or worse yet, convince you never to play against him again.

He likes the idea of chess being an heirloom; the kind of skill he’ll teach his kids in the future. It’s integral to the very depths of his brain—how he works, and how his logical mind can jump and switch sometimes at the flick of a button—yet he rarely shares it with anyone else.

It’s only apt that you’d get an all-access pass.

Hovering over your now-free bishop, you narrow your eyes as you glance towards him.

He nods.

And so you move a pawn instead.

“I don’t trust you,” you tell him, because he told you not to. In a way, you are trusting him—just trusting that he’s a bullshitter.

What you don’t realise is that you’ve just moved the very pawn that’s been protecting your King, and preventing Jeongguk from getting an easy win.

“B,” he sighs, looking helplessly at the move you just made.

He couldn’t love you any more if he tried, but— fuck —he’ll never understand your brain.

“What?!”

He picks up his queen. Places it diagonally across from your exposed King. There’s nowhere for your King to go, other than in the direct line of his queen. He’s gone and fuckin’ done it again.

Check.

Mate .

Groaning, you realise what's happening and flop down onto your back. Your brain is fried. There's no way Jeongguk actually enjoys this.

"Not again," you whine, pretending to sob a little as you look up at Jeongguk's ceiling. It's without birds these days, but there are a few rogue strips of tape that remind you of your history within these four walls.

"B," Jeongguk laughs, clambering around the board to flop down with you. His arm rests over your tummy as his face aligns with yours. Might not have any birds above you, but the way you melt into his touch is just as deadly as it was the first time. You'll scorch a hole through his sheets with even the most innocent of encounters. His lips are a little pouty, smirk prevailing as he teases, "What did I tell you, huh? Protect your king."

"I tried!" You insist, your over-dramatic, distressed expression far too cute for him to care about playing anymore. He enjoys chess, but he enjoys you more.

"You left him wide open for me to take!"

"You could have gone easy on me!"

"I was!" He defends with a laugh, adamant that he could have taken you out in, like, two moves if he really wanted. "I swear you didn't listen to a single thing I told you—"

"I did! Listening to you is how you got that stupid pawn in the first place," you huff, putting your hand against the bottom of his throat to stop him from getting any closer. He doesn't deserve niceties in times like this.

He'd argue that the feeling of your sharp nails against his throat is incredibly nice.

He ignores your moaning. "I'll make you a deal."

"Go on."

"Strip chess."

"Pervert."

"For every move you make, I'll take an item of clothing off," he suggests with a glint in those starry eyes of his, ignoring your remark.

You assess the situation. Mentally make a checklist of his clothes. Sweats, a shirt, a (toe)sock on either foot, and underwear — that's only five moves, but then again, Jeongguk normally has your king trapped by that point.

"I think you're just trying to get me naked."

"I'm always trying to get you naked, B," he shrugs into his sheets, before tearing himself away and getting back into position on the opposite side of the board. "So are you gonna make it a challenge or not?"

"What happens if I take out one of your pieces?"

"If you do that," he hums, as if he's contemplating it. "I'll let you do that goddamn paper plane you wanna try out so bad."

Instantly, you sit up, like a puppy with a treat being teased in front of its snout. Your eyes are wide, smile incredulous.

It's been a while since Jeongguk made those paper planes in your bedroom. Only one has ever been done, and quite frankly, you think it might have been the catalyst to your friendship's demise, because how you could ever go back to 'just friends' afterwards was beyond you.

It's not like you didn't try to remain totally neutral about cock warming with him, but the way your heart swells whenever you do it now just goes to show how your bodies were made for one another. Like a turning of tides, or the cyclical rising and falling of the sun to make way for the moon, it's just as nature intended. He was made for you, and you him.

With a glint in your eye, you lean over to the chess board and swipe up one of his pawns at random. With a gasp, and a smile twitching at your lips, you exclaim, "Oh look! I won!"

"B," he laughs, but your expression remains entirely serious despite the light nature of it all.

"Lemme fuck your ass," You grin now, pleading ever so softly. "A deal is a deal."

"You didn't win."

"Says who?"

"Anyone who has ever played chess?"

"I've played, and I think I won. C'mon," you grin, positioning yourself on his lap. The chess piece is still in your hands as you lean down to nudge your nose up against his. "Face down, ass up for me, baby."

"You're in my way," he says.

"You could throw me across the room if you wanted to. I'm not stopping you."

"And I'm not throwing you across the room."

"Please," you pathetically beg.

"You really it want it, don't you?" He grins against your lips. "Huh?"

"Just wanna make you feel good."

"You always make me feel good," Jeongguk whispers, quietly deflecting the real reason why he hasn't let you do it yet.

Truth be told, Jeongguk is a little scared.

While yes, he's always been curious about pegging, he's never taken it that far before. Has never had the tools, shall we say, to explore by himself, and none of his exes or flings ever seemed too interested in it.

He wants it. Wants it with you. Just doesn't know how he'll react. Doesn't know what his body will do. Worries that things will take a turn for the worse and that you'll be so repulsed by him that you'll never want to have sex with him again, or that maybe he'll like it too much and that it'll be all he ever wants and it'd ruin just how good things are at the moment.

His thoughts distract him as your lips press feathery kisses against the thick column of his neck. Something about you, and how delicate you can be, just makes him melt into your touch. His hands come to clutch your hair, a pretty little smile forming on his lips.

"You don't have to do this," he quietly says, nails lightly scratching at your scalp. Your lips graze against his skin, before he gently pulls you back by the root of your hair. The sensation makes you want him even more than you already do. There's a love-drunk look of lust to your darling eyes, all glittery like they so often are as you look at him.

Reaching to cup his jaw, you marvel at how a man who looks like him can be as tender as he is. The world would give him permission to break hearts, if he wanted it, but he doesn't. All he seems to want is to adore, and be adored in return—and how lucky you are to be on the receiving end of it.

A slight guilt settles in your stomach. You know he'd give you the world if you asked for it, but he isn't giving you this.

"I'm only teasing," you tell him, which isn't strictly true. You do wanna do it, but your incessant begging is what you're joking about. It's not like you'll die if you can't fuck his ass (maybe). "I'll respectfully stay out of your ass unless requested otherwise."

He shakes his head. Laughs. Kisses you, 'cause he just can't help himself, then pulls you down into the sheets with him. "I give it a day until you're asking again."

Secretly, he wants you to ask again. It doesn't feel like pressure. Feels like validation; as if you want this even more than he does.

The thing is, you can't say no to a challenge. "Wanna bet?"

No.

But he can't resist either. "You're on."

Yoongi stands with his shoulders pressed to glass front door, keys looped on his fingers. The streets in this area are always quiet until the evening, minor hustle and bustle from delivery drivers dropping off stock to businesses down the alley disturbing the peace.

A small hotteok stall sits lopsided, supported by the building's exterior wall, red tarpaulin covering it from the weather and any inquisitive eyes. An elderly man runs it during the weekends, but for the rest of the week, it sits derelict. It's an eyesore, to say the least. Not the kind of thing that screams 'hot new restaurant' to anyone walking by.

It's as Yoongi's contemplating how to solve this problem, figuring the stallhand probably had an agreement with the previous owners, when Jeongguk comes into his line of vision. He tweaks a brow in Jeongguk's direction, almost as if to ask: what time do you call this?

Jeongguk's right on time. It's not a minute past twelve, which is exactly the time Yoongi told him to arrive.

Sale finalised, paperwork complete, Yoongi got given the keys this morning. It's a done deal. The building is his, and in turn, the restaurant is Jeongguk’s.

Despite his nonchalance, when Yoongi sees Jeongguk grin, he can't help but smile too.

"Shut up," Yoongi tells him. "We're serious businessmen. Don't get giggly with me."

"I'm not!" Jeongguk laughs, hands up in defence, until Yoongi puts his own hand out for Jeongguk to shake. Naturally, Jeongguk uses Yoongi's hand to pull him in for a hug instead. Patting his back, Jeongguk is almost fighting the urge to cry. He's waited so long for this. Worked so hard. Doesn't think any of it would be possible without Yoongi, but Yoongi would disagree.

"You better make the best fuckin' samgyeopsal this city has ever seen," Yoongi threatens with all the love in the world, breaking from the hug. Passing over the keys, he nods towards the doors. "Do us the honours."

Yoongi is fatherly in the way he never takes the glory for himself. Will be the kind of dad to build a lego castle and let his kid put the flag in place at the end of his labour.

Jeongguk doesn't mention it, but he's noticed the way Seoyeon has been the designated driver for the past few weeks; how she didn't drink at auction, and how Yoongi's been even more attentive than he usually is.

Could be nothing at all. Could just be a change in the weather.

But it could mean everything, and Jeongguk knows better than to intrude before being welcomed in on the news.

Pushing the key into the lock, Jeongguk is quietly enamoured with the fact the premises has a lock and key instead of the typical keypad locks that are usually in place. The metal grates against itself as he twists the lock open, and pushes the door open.

There's a separate side entrance for access to the upper floors.

The floors Jeongguk intends to be the restaurant already have a connecting staircase towards the back of the room, which will make it infinitely easier for staying out of Yoongi's hair whenever he's in the workshop.

In the light of day, the furniture from the previous owners now removed, it's so much easier for Jeongguk to envisage how everything will look; where the signage will hang, where the bar will go, and, most importantly, where the disco balls will hang.

"It's really happening," he exhales, as if he hadn't realised it at any earlier stage in the process.

Yoongi doesn't berate him. Instead, he takes a deep breath, too. Nods. "It's really happening."

Though he smiles, Jeongguk wishes he had a hand to hold as tightly as his lips press together. Wishes you were here. Knows you're busy with work, making up hours to account for the fact you'll have some time off at the end of the week for your interview at the Ryu.

Why you need an interview is beyond him. He thinks they're being ridiculous. Thinks that even entertaining the idea of hiring someone else is an insult. Got so wound up about it, ranting to Jimin while he was making dinner, that he burned his sauce a couple of nights ago. Is now on a talking while cooking ban. Jimin says Jeongguk can't be trusted to multitask. Jeongguk says Jimin is a little prick.

The day is lost to making plans; sketches drawn up on Jeongguk's ipad, discussions with Yoongi about how to go about getting liscences for the premises, and back and forth over what should be done with the top two floors.

The idea of Taehyung using the fourth floor as a studio is considered, but both of them know how much he adores his current place.

"Think he'd live there, if he could," Yoongi muses picking up a slice of napjak mandu with his chopsticks, dipping it into the tteokbokki sauce. They'd ordered from the place near his current workshop, and it makes him lament the idea of leaving it behind.

Perhaps he can keep them both. Use the smaller space as his own little sanctuary, and the third floor here as his public-facing premises. Might be a bit of a waste, but if he can afford the rent, then why not?

"Tell you what," Yoongi hums as he swallows down his food. "If you don't add something like this to the menu, I'm kicking you out."

"I'll put it on the secret menu," Jeongguk offers, knowing that it definitely won't be what he offers to punters. He makes a mean tteokbokki, but it doesn't fit the vision of what he wants for this place. "Well, what about Jimin? He could start up his own interior place, if he wants. He's got the money for it, and I know the office he's in at the moment has been stifling him. Lost out on, like, three big commissions in the last quarter because the boss went with some other prick's ideas. Jimin's wasted there."

Yoongi hums in agreement as he swallows down his food. "We could always get him to help out with the design of this place. I reckon he knows all the tricks for good energy."

Nodding, Jeongguk laughs. Picks up another rice cake and chows down on it as he adds, "Should have seen him when we moved into our current place. Man had a compass out to align a sofa with the right energy."

"Sounds about right," Yoongi grins, resting his chopsticks back down against the edge of the bowl. "Well, what about your missus, then? Would she want gallery space? Somewhere for curation?"

Jeongguk chokes on his rice cake, and it's not because of the spice.

"She's not my missus—" he corrects, but then decides he doesn't want to "—at least, not yet. And she's got a big interview with The Ryu this week. I'm not sure opening her own gallery is on her agenda, but I can put the feelers out—and like… I don't know. Wouldn't it be a bit much? We spend so much time together, already. She'd get sick of me if I was working two floors below."

"Would you get sick of her?"

"Don't be stupid. No."

"Exactly," Yoongi says as if it's obvious—which, in all fairness, he thinks it is. "The pair of you are in a perpetual honeymoon phase."

Jeongguk shakes his head, as if he isn't beaming. "Shut up. Just got a good thing going—and hey, you're hardly one to talk. How's Seoyeon?"

"Good, yeah," Yoongi nods, but doesn't divulge any further. As much as Jeongguk is dying to ask, he holds back. "She wants you all round for dinner soon, so expect an invite in the group chat."

"For any reason?" Jeongguk baits Yoongi, cause he just can't help himself.

Unlucky for him, Yoongi is as stoic as can be. "You know Seo. She loves any excuse for a dinner party. Has started making her own pasta and I think she wants tasters."

"B makes a mean pasta," Jeongguk says, because his thoughts so often wind back to you, and he just can't help himself. "I'm sure she'll be buzzing to try Seoyeons."

A sense of pride washes over Yoongi's features. "Gah, when did you grow up, Jeongguk? Practically married, aren't you?"

Dismissive in how he shakes his head, Jeongguk can't help but let a bashful smile grow on his face. The soft lights overhead glimmer down him, putting those stars Jeongguk adores so much right back in his eyes. He'll never get rid of you. Will eternally carry the evidence of how utterly smitten he is.

Should you ever leave him, Jeongguk thinks he'd simply die of a broken heart. Wouldn't know how to walk if it weren't in the direction of you. Would stumble and fall until he inevitably wound up back at your door like a wounded puppy.

So perahps Yoongi is right. Maybe it would make sense to offer you the space—but you've got your own agenda. Your own dreams. Jeongguk can't just entrap you in his.

The thing is, once your shift is up, and you're heading to the restaurant premises to see Jeongguk, you can't help but feel like this is a dream come true for you.

His ambition and drive have rubbed off on you; encouraged you up a career path you once thought was overgrown with thorns and rubble. Has shown you that all you need is a little bit of elbow grease and a pair of secateurs to go after what you want.

It's dark by the time you arrive. Lights from the other establishments flood the streets, but the blinds are closed on the restaurant for a little privacy. A handwritten 'under new management' sign is taped to the front door in Jeongguk's signature penstroke. A little smiley face accents it; a show of how he feels, you presume.

Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you dial through to him, 'cause you've no idea how to get in, nor if he's even actually there. The building is just on the way home from the art cafe, and you'd left Jeongguk's place that morning to a very smiley boyfriend instead of his usual 'don't go' pout, so you figure he's spent all day busy with exciting plans.

"Sorry, not interested," Jeongguk's voice purrs through the speaker, as if you're some kind of cold-calling saleswoman with nothing half-decent to offer him.

"What if I told you I'm outside the restaurant and that I'm naked under my clothes?"

"Aren't we all naked under our clothes?"

"Just open the door," you grin down the phone as he comes into view through the glass doors.

He's got the kind of look on his face that you'd expect: pouty lips with heavy-lidded eyes. Softening ever so slightly when he notices the bunch of wildflowers poking out from the tote bag you've got hooked over your shoulder, his eyes are incapable of ever hiding his true feelings.

Mild confusion ( did someone get you flowers?) dismissed with easy understanding—they're from the stall he always buys you flowers from, so he knows you got them yourself.

It's very conflicting to adore you and to also want to fuck you into next Tuesday, but it garners you a gaze nobody else is ever lucky enough to receive from him. You cherish it. Think about it near-constantly whenever he's not by your side.

"You're a terrible saleswoman," he scolds so softly it feels like praise.

"And yet here you are, answering the door for me," you shrug with a knowing smile, sure that'd he take whatever you sold him. Would buy sand, water, air from you. Would let you swindle him.

"And yet here I am."

Hanging up, you mouth 'open it' through the door, and he does as he's told—kind of.

Blocking the now half-open door, he childishly asks, "What's the password?"

"I love you?"

"Ew. Gross. Get a room. No."

"Fuck you.”

"Not the password either, but I'm more than willing."

"Ew. Gross," you imitate him, gagging a little for an extra immaturity. "Hmm… Byeol is the best?"

"Ddaeng."

"Jimin sucks?"

"Ddaeng… but I approve. Good guess."

"Gimme a hint."

"It's the name of the restaurant."

The confidence that comes with the restaurant being his now is nothing short of a miracle. He's so certain of everything these days, in a way he never was before—but why shouldn't he? He got the girl. Got the dream. There's nothing he can't do. Statistically, he's two for two. A winner by all counts. A gold medalist in his very own Olympics.

"You've never told me what you want to name it!" You protest with a whine, thinking he's being entirely unfair.

It's not like you haven't asked a million times over. He's just been keeping it underwraps. Was scared that speaking it into existence would jinx it. Would refuse with a coy grin, and assurance that he'd reveal it soon enough.

Truth be told, Jeongguk's gone back and forth over names. It's probably changed ten times since he's known you, but then you said something at the fundraising auction, and everything sort of clicked into place.

A name was coined and it wouldn't stop embossing itself into Jeongguk's dreams; the branding, the signage, everything. A new vision of what he wanted spawned like lava onto a mountainside. You sparked a volcano he didn't even realise existed, and it's solidified into molten rock.

"I'll cut you a deal," you offer, knowing that you'll never get it and he'll never ease. Shrugging your shoulder to gesture towards the bag, you begin your enticement. "I've got cold beer and hot burgers from that place you like down the road. They're all yours in you let me in—if not, I'm going home and Danbi will—"

"Say no more," Jeongguk pushes the door open and grabs your hand, pulling you into the vacant restaurant with him. The door clicks close behind you, and Jeongguk spins you around so that you're stood infront of him, facing the large room. Arms wrapping around your waist, Jeongguk rests his chin on your shoulder, gently pressing a kiss to your neck. "Welcome in."

It's a lot to take in all at once. The room stands empty, save for the camping chairs and table Yoongi and Jeongguk had coversed around earlier, Jeongguk's ipad resting on the table with a low battery warning on the dimly lit screen. There's paperwork scattered on the surface—old utilities letters that they were using to sort out the new bills—and a bag of trash tied up on the floor from their lunch.

"I don't smell burgers," Jeongguk mumbles against your neck.

"I was lying."

"You've no shame."

Turning your head, you let him raise his nose to yours, a feathery kiss greeting your lips.

Whenever your doe-eyed boy greets you like this, you always feel a bit like snow white; as if a dozen tiny creatures will flock to you and bestow their love upon you.

It'd be fruitless, mind you, for none of them could even come close to how deeply Jeongguk adores you. He'd sit in the corner, jealous and bratty as they fawned over you. Would hate not being the object of your affection. Would strop until your focus was back on him.

"I'll order some," you promise, but Jeongguk shakes his head.

"Won't be here much longer. We can pick some up on the way home."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, baby," he tenderly whispers, punctuating himself with a slightly firmer kiss, before pulling away from you. Walking into the middle of the room, he holds out his arms. Grins. "Welcome."

"It's a pleasure," you grin, freely stepping into the space now, looking around with awestruck eyes knowing that this is his . "Holy shit, Gguk."

"Yeah," he agrees with your sentiment. "Mad, innit?"

"Just a little."

When you think back to the Jeongguk you first met—the one who spent hours upon hours studying for his exams, all the while working at the bar of an admittedly shitty club—you can't help but feel overwhelmed with pride. He worked himself to the bone for his dreams.

The space is large enough for Jeongguk to go wild with it. There's no end to his possibilities. He's got an arsenal of weapons in his back pocket in the form of his friends—Yoongi can fit the place out, Jimin can help with the design work, Taehyung can make a central art piece, and Namjoon can get it featured in the paper. Of course, he won't take advantage of his access to them, but knowing how willing his friends always are to help out, it's kind of like a no-brainer. He's got all the tools needed for success.

"And right here," he points up, standing in the middle of a square marked out with tape on the floor. It's large and in the centre of the room—the intended space for a central bar and banchan preparation spot, flipping the conventions of traditional barbecue places on their heads. Wants the food to quite literally be at the heart of the restaurant. "Is where the disco balls will be."

For a second, you think you miss-hear him, but the way his smiles grows when confronted with your confusion only proves you heard perfectly fine.

Sitting on one of the camping chairs Yoongi and Jeongguk had set up earlier, you've been watching him talk you through his vision for the place. It sounds incredible—just like him, but in restaurant version.

"Is that not a health and safety hazard?" You giggle, desperate to get up and stand with him, but feeling the need to maintain distance. He's having his moment. He doesn't need a shared stage—and yet here he is, announcing that the very embodiment of you will be centre stage for the foreseeable.

Jeongguk shrugs. "Haven't thought that far ahead. There's gonna be disco balls here whether they like it or not, though."

Realistically, if the health and safety inspectors tell him no disco balls, there'll be no disco balls—but he won't be happy about it. Will be pouty. You both know he's just being facetious, and that he'll comply with whatever is asked of him.

"It's my restaurant, baby," he reminds you, holding out his hands, cause he wants you closer. Naturally, you do ass requested, and join him in his square. His arm slips around your waist, a kiss firmly being pressed to your forehead before your chin leans on his chest. Looking up at him, it's a wonder that you're able to have conversations that last more than a single back and forth. A miracle, even. "I can do what I want."

There's something so incredibly sexy about this cocksure arrogance. He's not the same guy you met back in the confines of Dionysus, and while you adored him back then, you adore him even more now.

"You're sexy when you talk business," you hum, as his hand dip a little further south to squeeze your ass. "Home?"

He nods, a pretty smile hanging off his lips. "Mine or yours?"

"Yours is closer," you tell him, pulling away, linking your fingers with his as you do so, dragging him with you. Hooking your bag up over your shoulder, you're reminded of the flowers. "Oh—these are for you, by the way."

Passing them over, you're not surprised by his confusion.

"For me?"

The bunch of wildflowers looked pretty big in your hands, but remarkably small in his. You have to make a considered effort to not groan.

"Mhmm," you nod with a sweet smile. "A congratulations."

Jeongguk's head pushes back a little into his neck, shoulders broadening as his smile forms. He quickly tilts his head to the side and then back again in the way he often does whenever his brain is processing something new.

"Never had flowers before."

"Nice, isn't it?" You grin, knowing that nothing beats fresh flowers when it comes to small pockets of expressed admiration.

With a bashful nod, Jeongguk feels like he should feel emasculated, but can't quite work out the way he actually does feel. All he knows is that he likes it. And that he wants to get home. And that he wants you in his bed. Naked, preferably.

His thoughts dart back and forth to the last time you were in his room. Gets him hot. Blushing.

Thankfully, you don't seem to notice—or if you do, you don't mention it. Why would you? It's cute.

"What time is your interview tomorrow?" Jeongguk asks as he makes sure the door is locked behind you both.

"One in the afternoon," you reply with a certain nonchalance, as if you're unphased, which Jeongguk knows is absolute bullshit. "Hobes said he'll work my shift if I buy him a month's supply of Sprite, so I've got, like, 48 cans arriving tomorrow."

He would have done it for free, but he's a tough bargainer and you're just an easy sell when it comes to making the people you care about happy.

"His blood will turn into sprite," Jeongguk laughs, linking his hand with yours once more as you head down the road to the nearest subway entrance. "How are you feeling about it? We can practise interview questions later, if you like."

Shaking your head, you smile. "It'll just make me nervous, and at the moment, I'm pretty calm about things. Thank you, though."

"Well, if you change your mind," Jeongguk reinforces the offer, before you redirect the conversation and get him babbling about the restaurant—projected timelines, contractors, suppliers. There's so much to do, and yet it doesn't feel overwhelming in the slightest. Not yet, at least.

With a pit stop at the burger place as promised, the journey home is effortless. Intrinsic by this point.

Shoes off by the door, Jimin is out for a company dinner, so it's just the pair of you.

"Has he spoken with you about Nabi, yet?" You ask as you grab some condiments from the kitchen, while Jeongguk fills a vase with water.

"God, no," Jeongguk laughs. "He used to tease me all the time about you, but now he can't even look me in the eyes 'cause he's worried I'll ask about it. Idiot."

"He used to tease you? About me?" You hum, a little smug at this little snippet of information.

"You know what he's like," Jeongguk reminds you, 'cause it's not like you've ever been spared from Jimin's teasing. "Doesn't know how to not be irritating. Character flaw. Think he was born that way."

Despite his annoying tendencies, Jimin is adored by pretty much everyone he meets. Jeongguk doesn't say such things to be mean, but rather because he views him like a sibling.

"If anyone knows how to handle him, it's Nabi," you muse, thinking back to Pohang. "He'd have driven me insane organising the Jilympics."

"Don't call it that," Jeongguk smiles at how ridiculous his best friend is. Delicately arranging the flowers, Jeongguk's sense of perfectionism comes out once more. "He's a little narcissist. He'll sense his ego being inflated from miles away, and then his head won't be able to fit through doors." Tweaking a yellow flower to move it more centrally, Jeongguk shakes his head. "And to think the first time you were in this apartment—"

"Shut up," you groan, not wanting to be reminded of it. "Everybody makes mistakes."

"Alright, Hannah Montana," Jeongguk teases you. "It's just kinda wild, isn't it? How everything has just worked itself out?"

"Don't," you say with a glint in your eye. "You'll jinx it."

Perhaps it's foolish—naive, even—but he doesn't think it's possible. Thinks that this is all set in stone. That your names have been etched on a cliffside somewhere, and that's where you'll remain forever more.

He forgets that cliffs erode. That the weather is unpredictable, and life even more so.

He's always been cautious. Reluctant of counting eggs.

But he’s hungry. Ravenous. The first at the dinner table, and the last to leave. Bites off more than he can chew. Chokes and splutters in the wake of it all, every single damn time.

It’s a flaw he’ll admit to having, but why can’t vices be virtues? Why can’t he be optimistic? Why shouldn’t he hope for the best? He spent so long living in a perpetual state of fear, and it never did him any good. Wasn’t until he started opening himself to the idea of things working out okay that they actually started heading in that direction.

“I’ll do no such thing,” he assures you, reaching for a pan to start with his second course. Again, he’s hungry in all aspects of the word. Hasn’t even had his burgers yet, but he’s a growing boy, or so he’d have you believe. Better to just get it cooked first, and save him the hassle of getting up again later. “You want some?”

He nods towards the empty saucepan, but doesn’t need to explain what he’s making. You know it’ll be instant bibimyeon.

“A little,” you nod, knowing that this relationship is gonna be terrible for your waistline. Opening up his fridge, you pull a can of soda from the fridge. Jeongguk doesn’t really ever buy soda, unlike you and your minor peach soda addiction, but take-out places always chuck a complimentary can of something in with your orders, so he’s got quite a stockpile now.

“You want a beer or something instead?” He asks, as he begins to prepare the instant noodles in the most embellished way he possibly can. Spices, sauces, you name it, he’s always adding something—and it’s always delicious.

Cracking the can open, you set it down and swipe the camera of your phone up to snap a picture of him; to document him in his element. “Nah, it’s okay. Want a clear head for tomorrow.”

Jeongguk smiles, hearing the synthetic shutter of your phone clicking. “Obsessed.”

“So?” You grin, immediately swiping across to open up Instagram and preserve the moment on your story. “You love it.”

Though he doesn’t reply, he does look in your direction with a smile that would only confirm your words.

Together, you fall into a casual rhythm, you perched up on a barstool while he cooks. Conversation darts from A to B, Y to Z. There’s no topic of conversation too obscure nor taboo for you to realm into the depths of, but there’s also something comforting about how you can just natter about the weather, how he should get his hair cut, what’s on at the cinema.

By the time he’s eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, you’re already in the shower. It’ll be an early night. You’ve both been working today, and both have important things to get done the next day.

There’s no objection from you as he taps on the door and asks to come in. You hadn’t locked it deliberately. Jimin’s out, and even if he’d have come home, he’d have heard the shower going—or Jeongguk would have told him. There’s no real worry there.

“Been looking forward to this all day,” Jeongguk admits as he grabs his shirt by the nape of his neck, pulling it over his head in that boyish way he so often does. Neither of you really care about being naked—it’s a daily occurrence at this point—but seeing him get undressed makes your heart feel all jelly-like and void of structure. The chambers melt, and so do you.

It’s not just attraction, but affection. Acknowledgement that he doesn’t mind being vulnerable with you. That the things humans do to renew themselves — eat, shower, sleep — are things he wants to do with you. He doesn’t want to be full if you’re hungry, sleep while you’re starved of rest, nor wash away the traces of you. Renewal without you just doesn’t make sense to him.

“Me too,” you quietly say as he joins you. The water pitter-patters down on you both, his hair wetting before laying flat against his forehead. When his deft hands push it away, it always falls back.

Instinctively, your arms wrap around his waist, his around your shoulders, the embrace akin to coming home.

“We should both just quit our jobs and do this forever,” Jeongguk muses, almost sleepy in how he mumbles his words against the top of your head.

“Someone’s gotta pay the water bill,” you smile against his bare chest.

“That’s why I live with Jimin,” Jeongguk replies, tone cheeky and warm.

The smile on your face sweetly settles into something a little more neutral as you outwardly consider your own living situation. “Lease is up soon, yanno. Mine and Dans.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, wet hair tangling over itself against his skin. He holds you just as tightly. “Haven’t started looking for new places, yet.”

“I’ve still got a few months left on mine,” Jeongguk says, pulling back to reposition the shower head. Just wants to hear you a little more clearly. “My bed is basically yours anyways.”

It doesn’t take a genius to work out what he’s insinuating—but it also doesn’t take a genius to know that it wouldn’t be the right thing for you both, yet.

Your eyes are soft as you shake your head. “I’ve a whole apartment's worth of stuff, Gguk. I can’t just move into your room. Need my own space.”

He frowns, reaching for the shampoo. “You can. And I’ll even move my statues.”

“You mean your action figures?”

“Oh my god,” he groans, and then you’re giggling, and any negative thoughts Jeongguk could have about you saying ‘no’ dissolve into nothingness, like water running down the drain. He passes you over the shampoo once he’s gotten himself some, and adds, “People pay good money for a collection like mine.”

“You mean you spent a fuck ton of money on them?”

“We’ve all got our weaknesses,” he protests. “You’ve got so many clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever been into your room when there hasn’t been an avalanche of clothes on the chair, wardrobe and dressers bursting at seams—”

“Exactly,” You laugh. “Now imagine all of that in your room.”

He takes a second. Visualises it as he lathers up the foamy shampoo in his hair and almost hisses. “Yeah. You’re right. I take it back. Get your own place.”

Rolling your eyes, you flick a little water in his direction, as if it makes a difference.

He grins, teeth on show, lip ring doing the thing that just makes you melt.

“See,” you grin right back. “I’m always right.”

The rest of your shower is littered with dumb conversations and stolen kisses between shampoo rinses. In fact, it’s how the rest of the evening continues. Some dumb action film plays on the tv, and then Jeongguk finds a dumb youtube quiz, and you giggle into the early hours over some other dumb shit. Dumb, dumb, dumb and oh so totally in love.

The apartment issue lingers in the back of Jeongguk’s mind, though, and questions dance on the tip of his tongue. He tries to brush them away, but the mint of his toothpaste isn’t enough to erase them. They taste sour, and he knows the only way to rid the sensation is to speak them into existence.

Gone midnight, the city is still alive. His curtains are open, because you’ve started to get used to the way he likes to sleep, and find it far easier to wake up early when the sun is giving you a warm welcome to the day. Funny, how things change. How willing he was to change his habits for you, and how seamlessly yours have changed to fit him. You’re better for knowing one another, or so it feels.

The light pollution gives his bedroom a soft glow, and with every change of advertisement on the billboards across the street, the hue changes. Like his own personal mood lamp, it’s become a staple of his home. It’s blue, now, and so is he when he considers the fact that you haven’t yet reached the stage of sharing a home.

Your arm is looped over his waist, ‘cause he’d decided that the role of the little spoon would be going to him. Fingers interlocked with yours, he has no interest in ever letting go.

“B?”

“Mhmm?”

“Is Dan definitely moving in with Tae?”

“Think so.”

Jeongguk doesn’t immediately reply, but you leave space open for him. A question like that didn’t come out of the blue. It’s something he’s been ruminating on, no doubt.

When he finally does speak, the weight of his soft, if not somewhat pouty, words crush down on your chest in a way that you can’t quite explain. Hell, in a way you don’t want to explain, because it would mean admitting that a man has such power over you (even if said man is Jeon Jeongguk).

“They’ve always been one step ahead of us,” he laments.

And then he leaves silence for you. Knows that you always have a response of some kind that will settle his woes. Feels guilty that you’re always cleaning up the messes of his loose lips, but would be a liar if he said he didn’t crave the sweet nothings you soothe him with.

“They’re on an entirely different path, baby,” you gently press a kiss into his shoulder. He’s so warm and powder-fresh from his shower that you can’t help but want to cling to him like a koala bear. Most importantly, though, you don’t want him to move away. Space to talk is fine, but physical space? God, no. “There's no use comparing.”

But Jeongguk is a glutton for punishment. Will continue making himself feel small for the sake of his perceived flaws.

“Loved you before Taehyung even knew who Danbi was,” Jeongguk pouts, ‘cause he’s in his head again, going round in circles when he really needn’t be. You know he does this, though. It doesn’t surprise nor concern you. If anything, it reassures you, because his willingness to share these thoughts just signposts how far you’ve both come. He used to stew and sour over things like this. Now, he shares his burdens “But they’re doing all these big milestones first. They were a couple, went on vacation, and now moving in together. All before us.”

“It’s not a competition,” you sweetly laugh. “Their relationship couldn’t be more different to ours. Plus I hardly consider a weekend in Jeju a big vacation—we can literally do that this weekend, if you want.”

You’re not sure why you’ve never been away together. Busan is always lovely, but it’s a short drive, and is somewhere Jeongguk still considers to be home. It’s not a holiday. Perhaps you should rectify that. It's better spoken about during the daylight hours, but always a little nicer to dream at night. Make silly, fantastical plans that you could always turn into reality, if you really wanted.

“Gguk,” you softly continue. “As much as I love them both, we’re literally so different from them. Our relationship was never gonna be like theirs.”

“You think?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, lips brushing against the bare skin of his shoulder. “Well, I mean, he lets her peg him for starters—”

Jeongguk turns so quickly it’s a miracle he doesn’t fall out of bed. Even in the darkness of his room at night, the open curtains mean his shock is easy to make out. “Does he actually?!”

Giggling, you roll onto your back, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. Truth is, you’ve no idea. Just said it to be a dick.

“Probably,” you say, admitting that you don’t know. You just knew it would cause a reaction. Ease the tension, somewhat. “He’s like, obsessed with her. Would let her do anything she wants.”

Sinking back down into the sheets with you, Jeongguk wraps his arm over your body now. Pulls you close. Presses a kiss to your neck, and says, “You lost the bet, y’know? Can’t even go 24 hours without thinking about fucking my ass, can you?”

It sounds like a complaint, but the way his lips seem unable to stop pressing wet kisses against your throat would prove otherwise. Your hand tangles in his hair, scratching his scalp in approval.

“Cute that you think I haven’t been thinking about it all day,” you tease, biting back the small murmur of a moan that’s just begging to escape from his touch.

You often have thoughts about him throughout the day, both pure and impure. It’s not like you mean to—it’s just that there’s something about Jeongguk that is impossible to forget. Like a class-A drug, you linger from high to high, using thoughts about him to sustain your comedown until you can see him again.

He is your boyfriend, though. Would be weirder if you weren’t a little obsessed.

“Liar,” he scolds. “I picked your clothes up after our shower. Your underwear were dry.”

“You were inspecting my underwear? Freak,” you tease, because quite honestly the idea of him studying your underwear in the hopes of finding arousal is kinda hot, even if a little perverted. “And maybe it’s because you don’t get me excited.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk ignores your insult. Instead, his hand creeps down the mound of your pussy, pausing before he sinks his fingers between your thighs. “So you’ll be dry right now, then?”

“I’ll be just like the Gobi,” you assure him with that tone of defiance he's grown to adore. “Try me.”

You don’t know why you’re offering yourself up like this, ‘cause you know it’s only gonna end up one way.

“You’re such a fuckin’ liar,” he smirks—and then is proven correct as his fingers slide between your slick folds with ease. A gasp escapes from your lips as he casually brushes past your clit, paying it no attention whatsoever. “And even if you weren’t, there’s like, five bigger deserts than the Gobi. Sounds like it’s a pretty easy drought to rectify—but fuckin’ hell, B. My pretty girl and her filthy mouth. Full of lies, isn’t it? You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

“No,” you purr, hips languidly rolling to intensify the sensation he’s facilitating. After all, he’s right. There’s nothing dry about the situation between your legs. “Never told a lie in my life.”

His teeth nip at your neck as his body presses up against your side, the thick ridge of his cock letting you know that you most certainly get him excited.

“You’re so full of shit, B,” he quietly says, lips from a pretty little kiss against the edge of your jaw. “Told so many lies, haven’t you, hm? Like when you used to tell people we were just friends?”

The desperate sigh that escapes your mouth only fuels him on even more.

“You remember the first time I touched you like this, huh?” He husks against your ear. “Those pretty eyes of yours watching us in the mirror. You can see us now, can’t you?”

Nudging his head against yours, he encourages you to look in the direction of his mirror. You always sleep on the side of the bed closest to it, but you rarely pay it any attention these days. The pair of you are obscured—bed sheets and shadows hiding what he’s doing to you—but the eroticism is just as potent as it always was.

“Gguk,” you rasp, back arching when he strokes against your clit just right.

Restraint is something that you wish you had been gifted with, but alas—you are just a girl, and he is just the sexiest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of sharing a bed with. Of course you melt with every little thing he does.

“What is it, baby?” His index finger pushes into the seeping entrance of your cunt, just once, twice, to really get you moaning. “You like it when your boyfriend touches you?”

Something about Jeongguk referring to himself like that always gets you hot, but it’s partially because of the way he almost growls when he does it. You know it’s a turn-on for him. Know that his cock is throbbing. Know he loves calling himself yours.

Tugging on his arm, you encourage him to move on top of you. It’s late, and you should both be getting a good night's rest, but whatever. In half an hour, you’ll both be away with the fairies. If anything, this will help you fall asleep quicker.

“Thought you wanted an early night?” he husks against your lips, finishing his question with a kiss that lasts far longer than any words spoken. His firm lips part yours as your legs wrap around his hips as they grind up against yours.

“And I thought you said whoever speaks about fucking your ass next loses?” You smile against his lips, knowing that he definitely must have a twisted idea of what punishment is. “How is this losing?”

“We never set out terms,” he reminds you, unable to stop himself from kissing you between sentences. “But maybe it's not about losing. Maybe it’s about winning.”

“Okay?” You entertain his flirt, giggling between those kisses he just can’t seem to stop giving you. “So what are you winning?”

He pretends to give it thoughtful consideration. Squints his eyes and looks away as if contemplating one of life's great questions. Why are we here? What is the point of life? How do I want my girlfriend to make me cum tonight?

Jeongguk presses a kiss to your neck, nose nudging against your skin. He’s feline-like. Purry. Pathetic. Just how you like him.

“You haven’t sucked me off in a while,” he whispers, teeth nipping at your earlobe. Your hand laces in his hair, a soft moan humming from your lips. There’s a softness to the slow movements of your bodies. A comfort. A desperation. Unadulterated devotion. “So maybe that?”

You laugh at his shamelessness. Press a kiss to his temple, still scratching at his scalp. “I gave you a blowjob, like, two days ago, baby.”

“I know,” he whines like a wounded puppy, all docile and dejected. “It’s been so long I might die.”

“Hmm?” You hum in response, pushing on his waist ever so slightly until he gets the message to roll onto his back. He does as he's told, because he really is just a puppy dog beneath it all. Well-trained and desperate for a treat.

Following the movements of his body, you naturally ease into position on top of him. Legs straddled either side of his waist, you raise yourself up into a seated position, earning you a grunt of approval from Jeongguk.

The way his hands immediately reach up to play with your chest is curious, considering he still plays himself off as an ass guy. Strong with his movements, he grips the softness of your tits, his hips gently pulsing up against you.

“These might help prolong my life expectancy,” he says. “Best stress balls known to man.”

He seems quite content like this. Eyes closed, a smile hangs off his lips like he’s in a serene state of bliss. You cock your brow, unable to fight a smile, too.

“Did you just call my tits… balls?”

One of his eyes cracks open. “No?”

“You definitely did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Did—”

“Byeol,” he reprimands your diversion of the topic. “C’mon. Business, baby.”

“Is that all I am to you, huh?” You say, reaching for his wrist so that you can pull your hairband from it. He lets you do so and looks on with salacious curiosity as you begin to tie your hair up in a ponytail. “Just a transaction?”

“Mhmm,” he nods, his own hair tangling against his pillow as he does so. “A bird for a bird, remember?”

“Are we not past the point of the birds?”

“Well, yeah,” he says as if it’s totally obvious. “Thought we were gonna do a plane?”

Jeongguk’s reference back to the paper planes that he crafted in your bedroom makes your heart seize. You know what he means by that. Knows that it’s permission, in a way. That he wants what you want, even if he doesn’t outwardly say it.

“Are we?”

“Well we’re not gonna do anything if you keep up with the small talk,” he fondly teases you, pulling you back down so your chest is against his. One of his hands wraps itself in your ponytail and tugs ever so gently. A soft moan escapes your lips, much to his enjoyment. “I like your hair like this.”

In all honesty, he just likes being able to pull on it. Loves your hair no matter how it’s done.

“You’ll like it even more in a few minutes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw before you embark on your journey south.

It’s intrinsic, how you work his body. A routine so well learned it’s not even given a second thought anymore. You know how to make him tick. The way he groans when you press pretty kisses down his collarbones and the way his hips roll when you drag the pink of your tongue over his pebbled nipples.

His hand clutches in your hair, keeping you in that position, encouraging you to pay a little extra attention to his nipples for a change. It’s not often that he wants too much focus on his chest, but he’s so turned on that even the slightest touch is making him go feral.

“Shit,” he hisses when your teeth gently press down around his nipple before you suck it ever so gently. “You’re so fuckin’ good at that.”

He’s never cared for it before. In all honestly, he actively didn’t like it when previous partners did it. There’s something about you that subverts all his desires. You’ve changed him. Altered his understanding of his body. Opened him up to so much more than he’d ever considered before.

Still, you’ve got an agenda, and unfortunately for him, it doesn’t involve his chest. He lets you move down, one hand lazily hanging by your head, the other resting over his chest. His thumb strokes over his pebbled nipple, still wet from your tongue, the pleasure of your touch sending him into a state of ecstasy.

Your body shuffles down, and you both reposition yourselves. No longer are you straddling, but rather you’re between his legs. His thighs are dappled in kisses from you, before your palms rest flat to his inner thighs, spreading him just right.

Alternating between slow kisses and languid drags of your tongue, you teeter ever so close to his thick, solid cock, but never quite touch it. Every time you get close, he whines, cock twitching.

There’s a satisfaction to be found in the way his body responds to your touch. His desperation is painful. Visceral. All he wants is you.

And because you can’t bear to see him in pain (whether or not because he’s so turned on he might just die), you concede. Give him what he wants.

Hands on his thighs, you let a little spit pool on your tongue before slowly dragging the tip of your tongue up his shaft.

“Fucking hell,” he curses, writhing from the contact.

You smile, and the lightness of your breath against the wet streak of your tongue makes him shiver.

The tip of his cock is already leaky with precum, his eagerness to be inside you so pathetically obvious. You avoid it, instead opting to repeat your previous moves. Slowly, you lick up his fat length, tongue flat as can be. You want him to feel as much of you as he can. Want him whining— begging —for your pussy.

If the precum seeping from his tip is a sign of desperation, then heaven only knows what the fuckin’ mess between your legs is. Every stroke of your tongue against him only serves to make you want him just as badly as he wants you.

Your hand reaches to wrap around his shaft, gently stroking his foreskin. Your tongue flicks against the base of his tip, right where you know he’s the most sensitive.

It’s no surprise when his grip on your ponytail tightens.

But it is a surprise when he lets go.

“Hm?” You chirp, looking up, just to make sure he’s all good.

He is—he just isn’t looking at you to confirm it. Instead, his upper body twists ever so slightly as he reaches for his bedside drawer.

You know it’s got a host of indecent artifacts—his sex toys, condoms, polaroids of you that are for his eyes only—but don’t give it much thought. Figure maybe he’s after a condom to make himself last longer, until you feel him tapping at your shoulder with the side of a small plastic bottle.

He doesn’t say anything.

Not immediately, at least.

What he wants is something he can’t really bring himself to ask for. Hopes that you’ll work it out for yourself.

As you take the bottle from him, a small chirp echoes from your throat, as if you’re asking for clarification. Again, Jeongguk hopes you’ll work it out. That he won’t have to shamelessly tell you what he desperately wants, cock twitching and leaking precum on his stomach.

The way you pause as you study the bottle, trying to read the text in the dim light of Jeongguk’s room, only adds to his apprehension—until he hears a soft smile exhaling from your lips when you realise exactly what it is: lube .

Never usually required, thanks to the fact Jeongguk makes you resemble a waterfall from just a look in your direction, you know the lube isn’t for you. It’s for him.

And given the state of conversations around sex over the past week or so, you know what he’s asking for.

After all, he’s the one who wrote that damn airplane in the first place. Told you straight up that he liked ass play way back in the days of the sticky notes (some of which remain on his wall, yet to be conquered).

His drawer only really has his things in it, though. You’ve not got any of your toys at his place. This is a preliminary. A follow-up, almost, to the night spent in the Min’s garden, doing things that probably scared a few dozen nocturnal animals.

“Yeah?” You encourage, lips pressing to his upper thigh. His body adjusts ever so slightly, as if he’s shy. Your hand wraps around his shaft, slowly rolling his foreskin up and down his length in just the right way to get his hands gripping his sheets.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he rasps through the pleasure of having you touch him. “Just want you to do it.”

“Talk about what?” You tease, ‘cause there’s no way he’ll actually enjoy what he’s asking for if he keeps being this uptight about it all. Relaxation is key.

“B,” he groans, this time out of frustration—and so you know you need to be the one to take the lead.

It just doesn’t feel right to take the lead, knowing he’s a little bit tense. You’ve always been so clear and consistent with each other when it comes to consent, and while you know what he wants, you wanna hear him say it first.

So you leave the bottle of lube next to his thigh and clamber up his body. Legs straddling his waist, you’re pleased that his hands come to stroke your thighs without a second thought. Conversely, your hands softly hold his cheeks, bringing him in for half a dozen pretty little kisses.

“Words are important. I’m not gonna be crude about it,” you tell him, ‘cause it makes a change to the way you joke around with one another. “I just love you, and I want to make you feel good.”

Jeongguks nose nudges back up against yours, as if to plead for more kisses (of which you give him, willingly).

“I love you more,” he argues into your lips, earning a giggle from you that somehow melts all of his worries away.

“Chess is always an option,” you remind him, but he shakes his head.

“Just… Fucking hell,” he groans as if it’s some sort of laborious task he really can’t be bothered to see through, which couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s just embarrassed. It’s all rather cute. Or at least it is until he continues. “Just finger my ass.”

He bashfully half whimpers, half laughs, and then adds a pouty, “Please.”

A smile sinks into your lips, and the way he seems almost shy makes your tummy feel all funny. He’s disastrously cute like this.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” you promise, lips brushing against his ear.

He nods. Knows you will. Lets his hands stroke up and down your back, bringing them around to cup your boobs. Squeezes. Smiles. Can’t resist himself when he questions, “Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” You nod, pulling back to sit upright just for his viewing pleasure. His hands are still holding your tits, gently caressing. He’ll never not love the sight of this. Of you. Of the way you respond to his touch.

“C’mere,” he grunts, pulling you back down, ‘cause he can’t let you go just yet. Your hands grip onto his bedframe as his lips eagerly latch onto one of your nipples. One of your hands drops to tangle in his smooth hair, a pretty little moan escaping your lips.

He takes it as a sign he’s doing something right. Switches up his sucking motion to flick his tongue against your hardened bud. Get you moaning all over again, the position of your legs spread over his waist, letting him know just how pleased you are to have him like this.

And while Jeongguk might have been asking you for favours, all he can think about is returning them.

Tapping on your ass, he’s a little breathless as he lets go of his latch on your nipple, and husks, “Up, baby. On my face. You before me.”

“Hm?” you languidly hum—not because you don’t know what he means, but because it goes against what he was asking for just minutes earlier.

Still, Jeongguk doesn’t care to explain his thought process (mainly because he doesn’t have one (he just likes having you in his mouth in any and all capacities)). Instead, he just continues tapping your ass until you get the message.

“You’re so impatient,” you lightly scold him while you do as he requests, but barely have time to position yourself before his arms are hooking over your legs, pulling your pussy to his mouth. “Oh fuck.”

He wastes no time suctioning his lips around your clit. He doesn’t care to be quiet about it. Eats you like it’s his last fuckin’ supper. Laps up against you.

It’s not just his tongue, though. It’s like he wants his whole fuckin’ face in your cunt. His nose rubs up against your clit, while his tongue greedily licks your entrance. There’s no such thing as perfect, but the way he’s proportioned is as close as it gets, you think. Your hips grind, a hand tangled in his hair, the way you both move entirely primal.

Hands squeezing at your ass, he encourages your movements. Wants you all over his face. Loves nothing more than being coated in you.

His tongue begins to focus now, though. He positions himself just right. Flicks against your clit at such a speed it’s hard to comprehend—and then he’s moaning. Vibrating against you. Delivering a sensation that could never be replicated.

“I’m close,” you rasp. Whine. Moan. “Don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”

And while he wants you to, Jeongguk knows why. Knows you wanna fuck him. Knows you wanna cum around his cock instead of on his face. Multiple orgasms have never been an issue, but it is late. You do need a somewhat early night.

He nods, easing up his tongue, slowly sucking on your clit. The movements of his head as he sucks only serve to make you feel like you might cum regardless, so you shakily (and regretfully) pull away.

When you reposition yourself, he pulls you against his lips for the messiest, most obscene kiss possible. It’s all tongue, and little else. The taste of your cunt. The sweetness of his whines. The filth of how much he loves sinning with you.

There's nobody else he could be like this with. Only you. Only ever you.

Straddled over his hips, you grind gently, his thick cock perfectly snug between your lips. Wet and swollen, they feel like silk against him. Jeongguk knows, given the chance, that he’d be able to cum like this. Easy.

That’s not what he wants, though, so you retrace your steps. Sink back down. Don’t fuck around this time. Instead, you take him in your mouth without hesitation. Return the favour he’s just bestowed upon you.

Head bobbing up and down his fat length, your hand wraps around the base of his cock. Pulling back, you spit against him, using your hand to spread it, gaining momentum. Loose with your grip, you focus on the tip of his sensitive cock, jerking him until he’s whining. Whimpering.

And then, you let your tongue stroke against his balls.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines, his hips pulsing beneath you.

It’s all the approval you need for your hand to get a little tighter, and for your lips to take one of his balls in your mouth. It’s a sensation Jeongguk fuckin’ loves, if done right—and of course, you know how to do it perfectly for him.

You take his ecstasy as a chance to move things along. Know he’s feeling good. Know he wants more.

Pulling back, you sit on your heels. Neither of you speak, but Jeongguk does slowly nod when he sees you reaching for the bottle of lube next to his body. Trepidation hangs in the air. This territory is uncharted, and it’s been a little while since you last ventured so far south—but you’ve got a roadmap. Know the way. Even if you didn’t, you like to think intuition would guide you, regardless.

Warming it a little bit in your hands, you’re slow. Cautious. Careful, knowing that he’s probably feeling a little more vulnerable than usual.

Hands slick with the gel, you wrap a palm around his shaft. Ease him into the feeling. It’s not like it’s a new sensation, but the pair of you rarely ever use lube. You’re always wet enough. He nods. Lets his eyes close as your other hand gently massages against his balls.

A little further south, you venture. He’s not a stranger to your tongue against his taint, but your fingers are less frequent. He's not as well acquainted with the sensation, but he likes it. Legs spreading a little further, Jeongguk makes himself available for you.

Smiling at just how cute he looks, you’re a curious mix of enamoured and outrageously turned on. Just like nobody could ever make him feel the way you do, nobody could ever make you feel the way he does.

“You’re so hot,” you tell him, gently wanking his cock as two of your fingers stroke up and down his taint. You apply a little more pressure. Replace his bashful smile with a wanting gasp.

Slick with lube, you let your middle finger go lower. Slowly, you press against his rim. Watch him closely as his brows furrow. There’s that look of desperation once more, and the assurance that yes, he wants this. Wants you.

You count in your head. 1, 2, 3… make sure he doesn’t stop moving his hips. If anything, he’s edging himself down. Encouraging you to apply more pressure.

And so you do. Slowly, eyes trained on his pretty, pathetic face, you push your middle finger against his tight hole, until the muscle eases.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, the penetration of a single finger overwhelmingly pleasurable for him. His eyes flicker open, landing on yours as your finger begins to curl ever so gently. Just a little. Just enough.

Chest heaving, Jeongguk looks beautiful in a way that’s hard to put into words—and when you slowly pull out, he looks ruined in a way that’s also hard to comprehend.

His lips hang slack, chest heaving as his eyes burn into you like the heat of a thousand stars. Face dewy with sweat, hair sticks to his forehead, the storminess of his gaze quickly triggers a whirlpool within your stomach. There’s a neediness to him as he swallows back a breath, lips coming together so that he can lick them, before his pout forms that pretty little o-shape once more.

Breathless as he speaks, Jeongguk rasps, “Again.”

The corner of your lips twitch into a smirk. “Yeah, babe?”

“Yeah,” he pathetically nods, fucked out but somehow still painfully desperate for more. Of course he is, though. It’s you. No one gets him like this. No one ever will. His brows furrow together, his tongue flicking against the silver hoops in the corner of his mouth, as his eyes drop to his pathetically weeping cock. He’s so hard. So keen. So needy—and what he needs right now is you. “Please, B. More.”

You tease against his entrance, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp. It’s like a reward, to hear him like this. As if you’ve done something truly remarkable.

Your other hand wraps around the base of his cock, adding to the electricity surging through him. He reaches down. Wraps his hand around yours. Encourages you. Wants more. Needs more. And so you give him more.

Finger pushing into his tight entrance, you’re slow. Painfully so, though you aren’t causing any actual pain. Jeongguk just wants you to hit that spot.

“Yeah?” You check in.

Breathless, nodding his head even though his eyes are closed, he says, “Yeah.”

Your finger curls. Strokes. Searches. Finds.

And Jeongguk moans in a way you don’t think you’ve ever heard before. It’s a whimper, almost. A plea. Or rather, a confession, maybe.

Your hands work in tandem, your finger stroking right against the spot that makes him whine, while your other hand strokes him in tempo. He’s stimulated in a way he isn’t used to. In a way he never really thought was possible.

There’s a vulnerability that comes with penetration. Far easier to fuck someone than it is to get fucked.

When he looks down towards you, it's like looking through a telescope; galaxies in his big brown eyes. Wide and wanting, he'll give you all the stars in his eyes, no questions asked, no fee charged.

It’s when your head dips to press wet kisses against his taint that his whines really begin to get desperate. Has always loved your mouth. Loves it when it does things it shouldn’t.

A girl like you shouldn’t have your nose pressed to a ballsack or her tongue mere millimetres away from an asshole, but the way you focus on delivering him pleasure would suggest otherwise. You’re made for this. Made for him.

It’s when you whine, though, obsessed with his body's response to you, that he really begins to get twitchy. His hips pulse ever so gently, encouraging the movements of both hands.

“Yeah?” you breathlessly whisper, smirking at how a man so strong is just absolute putty in your hands. “You fucking yourself with my hands, huh?”

Jeongguk is beyond the point of pride. Has no need for dignity. Just wants to feel good.

“Yeah,” he admits between desperate breaths. “Gonna make me cum so fuckin’ hard.”

Everything is moving in the same chaotic rhythm: his chest, his beating heart, his pulsing hips. Jeongguk’s cock is twitching, the sensation of you massaging his prostate taking him closer and closer to the point of release. He isn’t gonna last, and you don't want him to.

Your hand grips even tighter around the base of his cock, the stimulation impossible to fight against. There’s only so much he can take.

“B,” he whines. “Oh, fuck.”

“Cum for me,” you tell him, not even caring for your lost orgasm from earlier. He can make it up to you later. You keep the pace of your finger consistent, but wank him off faster. He whimpers and he writhes, but he doesn’t ease up. “C’mon, baby. Show me how good I make you feel, yeah?”

If there’s one thing that drives him wild, it’s when you call him sweet little names.

“Please, baby,” you beg, because you know just the right buttons to press. His hands grip his bed sheets, eyes struggling to stay open. He’s seconds away from death, or so it feels. A little death, at least. His legs begin to twitch. The onslaught of what is about to happen is unmistakable. “That’s it, baby,” you coo. “Show me how good it feels.”

“B,” he tries to speak, but can’t. All he can do it succumb to the pleasure. Whine. Mewl. Moan.

And then it’s happening; the evidence of how fucking good you are for him painting his abdomen. His cock is pathetic as it spurts ropes of thick, hot cum onto his belly. White and wet, it’s never-ending. He cums and he cums; gasps and gasps.

It’s not until he begins to twitch, chest heaving, cock spent, that you withdraw from him. Immediately, you gently begin to trail your tongue across his hard abs, cleaning up the evidence of how much he likes having you in his ass. You're keeping his secrets. Promising you'll never tell a soul.

“Shit,” he curses, all breathless and fucked out, one arm over his chest, while his other hand reaches down to stroke the side of your head. “Fuck.”

Giggling now, you clamber up to join him, and Jeongguk cares not for the fact your cum is still on your tongue. In fact, he deliberately stokes his against yours, swapping the evidence of his pleasure between you both. Moaning into your lips, he’s spent in a way he never has been before.

“God, I love you,” he whines into your mouth. Gets needy all over again. “You know that, huh? You know how much I love you?”

With a bashful nod, you find yourself giggling. “You know I know.”

“Good,” he nods, pulling away to face the ceiling, eyes closed, trying to get a little breath back. You snuggle into him, all rather sweetly considering what you’ve just done. “‘Cause I do. And I mean it. You’re literally, like, the love of my life.”

“Who knew all it would take was a little ass play to get your saying such soppy shit,” you tease him, pressing a kiss against his chest. “Should have done this months ago.”

He laughs now, too. “Just cause I didn’t say it back then doesn’t mean I didn’t think it.”

The pair of you descend into a comfortable warmth, giggling and joking, until you get up to wash yourself up a little. Jeongguk protests. Says he needs to return the favour—but ultimately agrees to wait until the morning.

“Need to sleep at some point, babe,” you tell him as you both meander to the bathroom. Jeongguk makes a mental note to get a place with an en-suite when he moves out. In a pair of boxers, he watches you fondly as you wash your hands in the bathroom sink, all love drunk and bleary-eyed.

You’re in one of his shirts, and it drapes over your body in a way that it would never drape over him. He likes it better on you. In fact, he likes most things in his life better with the addition of you. Thinks life would be impossible, if he were ever to lose you.

“I think I’d die, yanno,” he mindlessly says, watching you plait your hair to stop it from tangling in the night. “If we ever broke up or weren’t together, I’d think I’d just die.”

You laugh, because it’s absurd. Both the concept of dying of a broken heart, and the idea that you would ever break up.

“Don’t speak it into existence, then,” you tease. “It’s a full moon, Gguk. Can’t be manifesting things like that on a night like this.”

“I’m not,” he assures you, because if anything, he’s trying to do the opposite. Not once does he think to tell you that the full moon has nothing to do with it, or some other belittling remark about believing in the stars, like you know most guys would. Why would he though? A star is the closest thing he knows to religion, and he’s looking at it right now.

“Well, good,” you hum, turning to face him, hair now secure. “Let's just agree to not break up, and that way you won’t die.”

“Sounds good,” he sleepily smiles, tugging on your hand, guiding you back to his bedroom.

It’s a ridiculous conversation for a ridiculous concept.

Or at least, in the warmth of lust-drunk night, it is.

In the cold light of day, stark and sterile, everything has the potential to change.

After all, bad decisions are your forte, are they not?

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #jungkook fluff #non idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan ff #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #bad decisions #dappleddaisies

323 notes · View notes

yayll · 2 days

Text

~ a little something about Dazai surprising you on your day off ~

Dazai's not by any means an early riser... That is unless he gets to see you that day.

It's 8 AM and he's tapping his fingers against his pant leg lightly, but he's actually really anxious and impatient. He’s waiting for you to open the front door and flash him that life changing smile of yours he’s been coveting for all week. Today’s your day off and he's decided to come over and spend the day with you so he can cherish every single moment, totally not because he’s slacking off work and wants to do the only other thing he does with his life other than avoid his responsibilities: Be the bane of your existence. You also have a nasty little habit of being a workaholic and he's here to break that once and for all. He's completely spaced out now, lips pursed and brows slightly furrowed in thought when suddenly-

You finally open the door. His angel, his everything. He immediately switches his whole demeanor, eyes twinkling as he scans your figure. You’re still in pajamas, and your hair looks messy. You look absolutely delectable for someone who just woke up to 3 missed calls and 10 texts. Dazai smirks as he leans in, wiggling his brows in an exaggerated manner.

"Well look who’s finally awake! What a sleepy little thing you are. Makes me jealous of that stupid bed of yours… Did you get my text? Come here"

He looms over you in the middle of the doorway, kissing you softly, tenderly and hungrily.

You blink, and before you can catch your bearings you’re interrupted by the softness of his eager lips. If your mouth opens, he’s pouncing. After a few moments of uninterrupted bliss, you pull back, eyes still drowsy and breathing a bit shallow. You yawn, running your fingers through your bedhead.

“Sorry. I, um… was still asleep until now. I was trying to sleep in-”

He gasps, and tilts his head, as if baffled by this.

“Now why would you do that when we have plans today?”

“... We don’t, though?”

Dazai laughs, dismissing your rightful confusion. He knows you guys never discussed plans, he just doesn't care. He lightly pinches your nose in between his fingers.

“We do! It’s why I let you sleep in for a few extra hours before coming over.”

You lazily swat at him, crinkling your nose. He’s swooning! Dazai feels a jolt of electricity through his body upon seeing the way you respond to his doting. Making you flustered is his favorite entertainment, besides suicide of course.

“But it’s 8 AM.”

“Exactly! That’s like half the day."

"... How long have you been up for?”

He rolls his eyes affectionately as he buffs his knuckles on his tan coat, replying with a nonchalant hum.

“Hmm, not important— What’s for breakfast?”

He lets himself into your apartment and you sigh into a defeated smile that somehow still holds affection for this ridiculous man. You follow him as he strides to the kitchen and fold your arms across your chest.

“You know, I’m kinda grumpy right now. It’s too early, Osamu. I need my sleep."

“And might I say you look absolutely stunning when you’re grumpy? How ever did I get this lucky…”

“Keep it up and I’ll get even worse, you goofball.”

Dazai smiles, it’s sly and dangerous. A challenge, he hears? He pretends to think for a moment, his finger placed on his lips as if really contemplating something. He’s just picturing what you’d look like yelling at him. Heavenly, of course. He flashes you a tender smile as if you just said the most romantic thing and curls his arm around your waist, whispering.

“Ooh, then I can’t wait to see worse.~”

You roll your eyes, unable to help the pink hue spreading over your face. Maybe you're still half asleep, maybe you’re just hopelessly in love with him. Either way you’re screwed. You whine with a hint of annoyance.

“Osamuuuu…”

Oh how he loves when you say his name like that. Maybe it’s time for you two to skip breakfast, he already does anyway, but he knows you actually need nutrients to function. He replies in a singsong voice.

“Yeeesss?”

“I’m making pancakes and you are going to sit down and wait.”

You point at the kitchen counter trying to be stern, and of course, failing miserably.

He looks back at the stool and then back at you. He leans within inches of your face, his nose poking yours. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly and winks.

“No can do, cutie~”

You two spend the morning making breakfast, or at least trying to. YOU are trying to, anyway. Everytime you go to gather ingredients, he’s already handing them to you. When your back is turned to him, you feel his arms snaking around you as you flip pancakes unevenly due to the distracting trail of kisses he's leaving down your neck. You secretly smile to yourself whenever you’re not feigning irritation, you know he loves the banter… Why not indulge the poor man?

You serve two plates and sit down, along with two mugs of coffee. Dazai isn’t allowed to have caffeine around you, but once again, you took pity on him today for some reason… or is it his mystifying persuasion manipulation at play here? He takes a sip of his mug and a satisfying ‘Ahh’ releases soon after. He flickers his eyes towards you as you're about to sip yours as well, and it’s like the world stops. His pupils dilate and he watches intently as the rim reaches your lips, resting his chin on his palm as he leans lazily over the counter. He’s like a dog watching its owner adoringly. During his trance-like state, he thinks about how if you lived together this would be his every day routine. He could get used to watching you drink coffee and eat food. You'd wake up next to each other and hold hands as you watch the sun rise. He would tell you how breathtaking you look with bedhead and make you late for work after failing to keep his hands to himself. Maybe then you wouldn't think he's such an impenetrable wall of secrets. He wonders if there's a future where all of that happens... He snaps out of it, and murmurs.

“Can I have a taste?”

You perk up and look over, tilting your head to the side, amused.

“What, the coffee? You have your own.”

He’s so focused now, staring at your full lips, thinking of a proper answer. He wants to tell you that he's never had intimate moments like these with anyone else and he doesn’t know how long it’ll last before his luck with you runs out, that he’s afraid you’ll see right through his one dimensional facade and leave him for good. That you won’t follow him to his untimely demise should he ever fall, so he has to capture every second of it so he can keep you in his mind forever. He has to lock you up in his heart and throw away the key, otherwise becoming a man of virtue loses all its meaning.

Instead, he opts for the less complicated route, the corners of his lips curling up into a coy smile as he places a gentle hand on your thigh.

“No, your lips, dummy. I want to taste the coffee off of your lips.”

There are no words for the audacity of Osamu Dazai and the feelings thrashing inside you when he says things like that. You smile bashfully and look away, unable to accept his shameless flirting.

“You’re so weird, Osamu…”

“Mm, I'm so yours. No takesies backsies.~"

You slowly meet his gaze, his watchful eyes that ooze devotion practically holding yours hostage… God, you are so beautiful to him. Before you can even register it, Dazai scoops you up bridal style and carries you to the living room, laying you down on the soft couch. His eyes darken as he looks down at you, his fingers tracing the outline of your lips. As soon as you show him the look of love that gives him the consent he’s looking for, he doesn’t think twice about it. He grabs your chin and pulls you into a messy kiss. He kisses you rough, his tongue almost immediately sliding into your mouth as he moans into you. His moans turn into whimpers, like he's been starved of touch for far too long and you're satiating the hunger. He needs to taste the coffee you just drank, and he wants you to know exactly how much he's been aching for this moment. For your much needed day off. For you.

He keeps his hand at your chin, pressing you down deeper into the couch with his hips grinding against yours as he tastes the acidity of the coffee along with the honey you sweetened it with.

Finally, when you literally cannot breathe, you pull away with your dazed and blissed out expression, all red in the face just like he loves. You mumble in between pants.

“Wait— So... What exactly was the plan for today?”

He looks up from running his tongue along your jawline and flashes you that infamously deceptive smile he perpetually keeps on his face, tapping his index finger on your cheek. His voice comes out in a breathy whisper.

“Breakfast.”

“.. But we already had breakfast.”

He sighs deeply and his finger ghosts its way from your cheek down to the waistband of your pajama bottoms as he needily mumbles in your ear.

“Still hungry.. I’m a growing boy, you know.~”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head.

"You're going to tire me, Osamu.. Work wears me out enough as is-"

He wiggles a finger at you, face full of sickening desire as he carefully lowers his head down by your stomach, resting his cheek on your soft flesh. He murmurs in that soft pleading way that drives you insane when he combos it with his reverent touch.

"Listen to me, please. No more work talk... No more stressing out your pretty self, okay? I haaaaate demanding jobs. It only takes you away from me."

You look down and simply nod, your eyes trained on on the way he looks at you from under his lashes and the soft brown hair that frames his face. Your heart races with anticipation as a smile slowly creeps up onto your lips. You don't need words for what comes next.

For the rest of the day, he makes sure you have the best time off, it's the least he can do as your incredibly attentive and not selfish at all boyfriend! A day where you can shut out all thoughts of work... along with literally anything else that doesn't relate to him.

Unfortunately for you, there is no resting involved on said day. Fortunately for Dazai, you look so cute as you writhe under him for hours on end. That'll get it through your pretty little skull not to work so much.

196 notes · View notes

cry4mina · 2 days

Text

Heaven

(Nayeon x Fem!reader)

Word Count: 6.9k

Fluff/Smut

Summary: After being with Nayeon for a while, it's clear that she is your future. You both decide it's time to move in with each other, this fic takes place on move in day!

TW: Fluffy, cute, oral, fingering, a little nipple play, strap ons, teasing, lots of almost moments. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: @dovveri (the precious angel) had asked me to expand on this MONTHS ago and I took my sweet ass time (I stalled bc fluff is not my strong suit.) BUT it here now and I hope you enjoy it!<3

Also! Happy 6 Months to Cry4Mina! I know I say I'm grateful for all of you all the time but hitting 600 followers AND it being my 6 months of writing has really just been amazing.

Thank you all for taking the time to read my works, the support you've given me and all the love! I'm really looking forward to writing a lot of the drafts that I have, and interacting with everyone! I hope you all have such a lovely day/night and get you a little sweet treat! <3

The walls are blank. Every place where art once hung, now patched with tack and smoothed over. Boxes lining the small living room and parts of the kitchen…reliving some of the sacred memories built here when your phone chimes, interrupting the sweet thoughts. You to pull it out of your pocket to check the notification.

Nay: I’m outside baby (9:45am)

Not even bothering to reply, you just pull the door open to see a U-haul truck backed into the parking spot closest to your soon to be old front door and Nayeon no where in sight.

Looking around in confusion, you hear the clattering of the big metal rolling door on the back of the truck.

Eyes meeting the sound as it rattles, ascending upwards and stopping in place. A petite Nayeon lifting it and climbing into the back to push it all the way to the top, revealing the empty truck she rented just for the things you decided to bring along with you.

She leaves you completely breathless, per usual…but today, being the day you were moving in together, your heart throbbed with love and affection for your beautiful girlfriend.

White sneakers with long white socks up to her knees, black shorts that were intentionally too short, a top that had hints of purple and a trucker hat to finish the look off. Appearing as if she just got out of a photoshoot or filming a video or something more extravagant than helping you move.

Your jaw hit the floor as she half jogged up to you, and jumping into your arms and wrapping her legs around you, expecting you to hold her up while her forearms found their place on your shoulders and her hands were interwoven with themselves.

Being sure to catch her, providing some support from under her, she lean back and grabbed your cheeks, kissing them one, two, three times before completely beaming at you from the few inches she had of height on you in this position.

“Hi, baby!,the ” another kiss, this one on the lips, to taper off her sentence while her hands found their way around your neck once more.

“Hi, my love, you look amazing.” absorbing her like flowers take in the sun, feeling her skin on yours was magic.

“Only for you.” watching as her eyes convert to a half lidded seduction, her tone emanated a specific type of want that could only be translated privately, very very privately.

Nayeon reverts the seductive face, unwrapping her legs and stand on her own, keeping her hands connected around your neck and pulling you into an even bigger hug, fingers tapping on your shoulder blades to the song she was humming, before shimmying in your arms.

Both of you start giggling before she finally lets go of you, very obviously excited about this adventure you were going on together. Her hand finds yours, lightly gripping it and swinging it around while she talks.

“Okay, so the movers should be here any minute - we are loading what you’re keeping into this truck” pointing to the one that she pulled up in.

“And anything we are going to donate will go in the movers truck, they will drop it off and then we will go…home, the movers will meet us there and we will get everything organize. Sound like a plan?” the loving look she gives you when she says home made your knees weak, jelly filled joints fighting to hold the weight of the love you held for her every thing she did, but especially when she said something sweet or looked at you a certain way.

“Sounds good, babe.” uttered over the squeaking of the brakes from the truck of movers that just pulled up and her squealing at the sight of them.

The 3 men come over, asking you for detailed instructions on what to keep and what to put in the “donation” truck. Most of the things you were keeping was in boxes but you were keeping your king sized bed, Nayeon was too in love with it to even think about getting a new one.

“But it’s already broken in on my side, I don’t want to do that again. Don’t you like sleeping on a cloud? I can’t believe you’re considering a new one…” argued a few weeks ago when you half way discussed what furniture you wanted to keep.

Both of you decided the living room would be the focus first, you’d want a new couch if anything. Wanting to pick out the decorations together for each room would be a fun bonding experience and that was something you were very much looking forward to.

“Alright, we will get started.” One of the men said, walking into the living room and starting with the couch you weren’t going to keep, taking it to the donation truck while you and Nayeon focused on the boxes.

Slowly removing everything from the apartment until it was completely empty, you couldn’t help but have a little moment of sadness, not that you were upset about this new chapter in your life with Nayeon, but more so the memories of this apartment and what it meant to you.

Nayeon sees you staring at the bare walls and taking the last walk through of the place to make sure everything was taken care of. Waiting for you to have your moment, she doesn’t rush you, simply leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed, silently watching the emotions change across your face.

It’s an emotional transition, even if it’s a good one. This place was where you built your relationship, the foundation of the steady and healthy bond you and her shared. Moving in together was a massive step that you were more than ready to take, but you couldn’t help allow the nostalgia consume you for a moment as a few tears roll down your cheek.

Feeling her eyes on your back, the edges of your mouth turn up knowing the exact look she’s giving you before you even see it.

“I can feel you watching me” giggling through the droplets that threatened to drip down your chin, you try to wipe them before she can see.

“Don’t try to hide it, I know you’re crying!” she walks up behind you, giving you a hug from behind and resting her head on your shoulder blades.

Sniffling while trying to gain your composure again, Nayeon just holds you until your breath smooths out more. Rocking you from side to side in attempts to comfort you.

“Don’t worry, baby” spinning you around carefully so you can face her; she likes to make eye contact when she speaks.

“This is going to be great! And do you want to know the best part?” leaning into you, putting her weight on you to make you hold her back.

“What’s the best part, my love?”

“We get to do it together!” Nayeon practically tackles you to the ground, smooching you all over the face and tickling you in the process.

Rolling around and trying to avoid her hands as you both laugh, you love how playful your relationship with her is. She always knew how to make you smile, in every single way you could imagine.

Once she put a halt to the tickle fest she brought on, she was straddling you on the floor, hands resting on your stomach and your hands were on her thighs. You sit up, placing your hands on her ass and scoot her into you.

Faces so close you can feel her breath on your lips, you can tell she’s riled up from the way you’re looking at her and your hand placement, it was easier to get her worked up - easier than she would like to admit.

Reaching your hands up from your girlfriend’s thighs and trailing them up her chest, watching as her breath hitches when you pass her collarbones.

Gliding your digits up her neck and to her cheeks, you feel her flush - a noticeable wave of heat rushing through her.

Sight going from her lips, up to her eyes, and then back down to her lips again, you bring her mere centimeters from your mouth.

Her breathing speeds up.

Feeling her heart race through your fingertips, the way her eyes were locked in on you, and the way she held you close without an inch of wiggle room…you knew exactly what she was thinking about…and what she wanted.

“Baby” breathed to her, teasing her with your whispers and the distance between your lips.

Nayeon’s is completely enthralled, looking like she wants to beg for you to touch her. Eyes returning to their half lidded state from earlier, she starts rocking her hips on your lap, you stop her immediately.

“Not yet, baby. We still have work to do…and I want pizza for dinner.” kissing her forehead before standing with her still attached to you.

“You’re like a koala, you know that?” chuckling at her for not letting go of you, bringing her outside with you and locking the door.

She whines really loudly, “Fuck you, ugh”

“Whyyyyyyy? What did I do?!” gasped back in fake shock, you knew exactly why she was saying it. She rests her head on your shoulder.

“Because, you did that on purpose!” Pouting at the state she’s in.

“Did what on purpose, honey?” kissing her cheeks while walking her to your car that she was planning on drive to the new place.

Nayeon gets down off you and sticks her hands out for your keys with a fake attitude, you dangle them in front of her. She attempts to snatch them, but you’re too quick and she misses.

“Did what on purpose?” poking her chest lightly just to get a little rise out of her.

She leans into your ear closely, playing with the collar of your shirt before she speaks soft sultry words right into you.

“For making me wet and making me wait to feel you.”

Jaw dropping for a second time tonight, she kisses your check tenderly. Winking at you while she bites her lip. She takes the keys out of your hand and replaces them with the U-Haul keys.

“Last one home buys dinner!” rapidly getting into the car and backing out of the driveway.

Still standing in the same spot, unable to stop yourself from smiling at how goofy she is. Shaking your head while giggling, it’s impossible not to fall deeper in love with her by the day.

Turning around one last time, admiring what was home in the afternoon light before getting into the truck and going to what was your next chapter of life.

—

The drive wasn’t too long, maybe 30 minutes at most. Driving in silence, you’re excited to get settled in your new place. Living in the memory of when you and Nayeon toured the apartment you’d be moving into.

Hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, massive windows that were floor to ceiling, and the lighting fixture in the dinning area that Nayeon fell in love with.

Remembering the way she exclaimed “baby, look at this!” At every turn, around every corner, you both knew this was the place you were going to start the adventure of living together.

The island in the kitchen was what you were particularly excited about, having more room to cook for her when you had a moment. She didn’t know that was the intention, but being able to surprise her with it some night would be great.

Turning the corner to the complex, you already see your car in the assigned spot. Nayeon is leaning on the drivers side door, scrolling through her phone when you back the truck in next to her.

“Ha! Dinner is on you tonight!” Happily skipping over to the drivers side door as you hop out of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah!” waving your hand and rolling your eyes before smirking at her.

“Pepperoni and extra cheese, please!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s go check out the place!” putting your hand out in front of her with puckered lips, waiting for your keys and a kiss, she’s happy to give both.

—

As you reach the elevator, you notice the weight of your keys is different. Looking down while stepping into the metal box what was going to get you to the floor you apartment was on - you notice a light blue key with an N and a heart on it.

Toying with the key in your hand, you look up at her to see she’s distracted and doesn’t know that you’ve noticed the cute little surprise she’s placed on your key ring while she was waiting for you to arrive.

“Baby” called to her softly from a foot away.

Nayeon looks over at you, eyes looking directly into yours and then down at the keys in your hands, showing her the one she placed on your keyring.

She smiles, pulling her keys off her belt loop, flashing you a key with your initial and a heart next to it, in your favorite color.

“I thought it would be a nice cute little surprise for our move in day.” intertwining her pinky with yours.

“Thank you, it’s so cute and thoughtful.”

The elevator dings, sliding the doors open and allowing you and your girlfriend to step into the hallway.

Taking the corridor to the right, Nayeon basically pulling you to the door of your new home. The door was black with shiny brass numbers reflecting back to you.

She slips her key into the door, the heavy lock turns and clicks into place. Nayeon looks over at you and smiles before pushing the door open and squealing in excitement, jumping in place. Gosh, she’s so cute.

Grabbing her hand before she can run inside, you pull her close to you, pressing your body against hers. She’s going to take this as you teasing her, but really you just had something you wanted to do.

“Wait a sec, I think we should be a little traditional about this.”

“Traditional?” Scoffed at you while her hands are wrapped around your waist.

“Yeah, traditional…” placing your hand behind her legs and scooping her up into your arms, bridal style, before she can protest.

Nayeon squeals at being lifted up but her arms instinctively wrap around your neck. When she realizes what you’re doing she starts giggling at the sweetness of the moment.

Unable to take her eyes off you as you take your step over the threshold into your new home. One of her rather large hands descends to your chest, placing it flat under your collar bone.

“Home.” said lightly under your breath but loud enough for her to hear you, panning the emptiness of the apartment you were about to fill with not only your physical things, but the love you had for each other.

Removing her hand off your chest, she uses her fingers to turn your head towards her and kisses you softly.

“Home.” Pointing one of her fingers into your chest, bring her lips back to yours.

Resting your foreheads together, you lower her legs to signal her to stand on her own. She whines in protest, leaning against you as she fights against regaining her balance.

“Are you ready?” Grabbing her hand, looking her in the eyes and smiling.

“Never been more ready, actually.” Kissing the top of your hand, grabbing her phone and checking her messages to see the other team of movers was outside and ready to move the furniture into your new space.

“They’re here!” Gleefully jumping in place again before heading for the door.

“Let’s go!” Following closely behind her and slapping her ass playfully.

Nayeon lets out a soft moan. Whipping around to look at you to see if you’ve heard, covering her mouth with her hand trying to hide her own shock and the flushing in her cheeks.

Eye widen as before you let out a thunderous laugh.

“Don’t worry, baby. We can take care of that later.” Kissing her forehead and leading her down to the elevator by her hand, with her trying to cover the flushed cheeks she now wears in embarrassment.

—

“Hmm…maybe a little more to the left? This doesn’t feel centered to me.” Nayeon is pensive, finger on her cheek as she asks the movers, yet again, to move the bed over so it’s perfectly centered in your new bedroom.

“Babe, it looks fine where it is!” Chiming in from the closet where you were hanging all of the clothes you had smartly packed on hangers so they’d be easier to deal with.

Organizing the closet so the left side was hers and the right side was yours, you could hear her sigh from the other room.

Picturing her exact movements in your minds eye, you knew she was shifting her weight from one leg to another, biting her pointer finger with her other arm crossed over her chest.

“Okay…I hear you…but what if we scooted it over just a little bit to the ri-“ sneaking up behind her and silencing her with a soft bite to the neck causing her to stifle a whine.

“I think it’s perfect where it is, Nayeon.” kissing her cheek before you turn your attention to the movers.

“Thank you so much for your help today!” shaking their hands as they leave the room and walk out the front door.

“Baby, I really don’t know if I like the bed in this position or not.” Nayeon’s hands are on her hips again, trying to figure out if it would look better centered on the other wall.

“Honey…we can rearrange any time we want. No worries, let’s just get the rest of the house together, okay?” you throw the sheets at her for her to make the bed she was scowling at and head back to continue what you’ve been doing in the closet.

Nayeon followed you into the closet, sheets in hand, with a pout that would make anyone drop what they’re doing to please her.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Pausing the organizing of your clothes as you spoke to her.

“I’m hungry and the bed is crooked.” she sighs and give a playful little stomp, throwing the cutest tantrum you’ve ever seen.

“I’ll order the pizza now then, okay?” pulling your phone out to send through the order you already prepared for the two of you.

“But what about the bed?”

“We can fix it later, okay? Just put the sheets on it and we will worry about it after dinner.”

Nayeon rolls her eyes and heads out of the closet to complete the task at hand.

After about 5 minutes goes by, a frustrated grumble echoes through the room, followed by shouting and sighing.

“Ugh! This bed is crooked! It’s not freaking centered!” Nayeon huffs as she finishes putting the sheets on, trying to scoot the heavy bed and frame over an inch or two to make it “centered”.

She’s so dramatic.

You adore this part of her.

“Let me see.” Finishing up the last of the closet and stepping out to see what she how “crooked” it was.

The bed was straight against the wall…there’s no way it could’ve actually been crooked. Giving her a side eyed glare, you lightly push her shoulder.

“It’s perfectly straight, what do you mean?” Chuckling at her while you put your hands up in confusion.

“No, it’s not! Look!”

Nayeon squats down in front of the bed, point and explaining how it’s not lined up with the floor boards and all you can do is admire how passionately she’s making her case about something so silly.

Just smiling, you walk up to her as she continues on her rant about the bed.

“So you see, that’s why it’s not straight because this is…not…” tilting her head up, eyes lacing every part of you as you step up to her and place a finger under her chin.

“I think it looks good, don’t you?” leading her to stand, her eyes still not leaving you.

Nayeon stutters through her mentions of now suddenly agreeing with you.

“O-oh, uhm…y-yes, I don’t t-think we should move it at all.”

She’s so cute.

Hooking a finger into on of her belt loop, tugging it so she somewhat falls into you. Using that to your advantage, swiftly turning and falling yourself. Landing flat with your back on the bed with her strategically on top of you.

Her surprised face hovering over yours, she hoists her leg over your torso, straddling your hips instinctively and putting you right back where you were only a few hours ago at your old apartment.

“Oops, wow! I can’t believe you would trip like that. So clumsy of you! Even if I do love meeting you like this…” tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

“And what if I meet you like this” leaning in and brushing her lips against yours, the warmth between her legs gives a flash of familiarity, and her sultry tone brings a rush of endorphins, melting your heart and ruining any sense of composure you had.

“I can feel your heart beating…do I still make you nervous?” whispered against your lips before connecting them completely.

Soft and slow turns into passionate and needy very quickly.

The steamy make out session escalated into you tugging Nayeon’s shirt off, trying to minimize the time your lips spent apart.

Nayeon’s tongue tracing your lips before she stood up and started undoing on your belt, the clattering of her impatience matching the buckle as it hit the floor.

Hastily unbuttoning your pants, tugging them down without hesitation. She needed you, rapid movements serve as proof of her hunger, the way she doesn’t care how aggressively she’s ripping the black denim off your thighs.

Haphazardly tossing each piece of clothing as she rips it off you, first your belt, then your pants, and your shirt following very closely behind, your hands helping discard the unwanted fabric.

“Finally…I get to have you how I’ve been wanting you allll da-“

The doorbell cuts her sentence off.

“You’re kidding…” Nayeon’s body tenses, sighing as she runs a finger down your stomach as she rolls her eyes in disdain at who ever just pushed the button that caused the chime that stopped her from taking you the way she had been imagining.

“That would be dinner.” Giggling at her frustration, only adding to it.

Nayeon just rolls her eyes and stands up, grabbing her shirt and throwing it on while mumbling to herself and mindlessly flicking off the front door before opening it.

You opt to just slip on a pair of black sweat pants and walk around in your sports bra, leaving your bedroom and hearing her say thank you to the pizza delivery boy before latching the door shut and locking it.

Grabbing some paper plates from the kitchen, bringing them to the empty living room and sitting on the floor next to Nayeon, and turning the TV on to put on a random YouTube video while you guys eat.

Taking a few bites and then looking over at her, you see she’s scrolling through her phone with an annoyed look on her face.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“What do you think about this?” Flipping her phone around to show a coffee table with a glass top made of light wood and gold accents.

“Oh that’s cute!” Leaning into her and scrolling to see if it had any matching sets.

“So I was thinking” she starts, “what if we did like a sage green with gold accents and with like light wood and a lot of plants for the living room.” taking a bite of her slice of pizza and doing a little happy dance now that she’s finally eating.

“I love that idea but let’s do a little contrast.” Clicking on the black version of the gold laced table and showing her.

“Wait…you might be on to something here.” Scrolling down and seeing the matching furniture that goes along with the table.

“I did save a couch I saw, let me find it.” quickly pulling up the lighter green couch she had in mind and showing it to you.

“Oh, babe, that’s perfect!” Leaning over and kissing her cheeks before taking another bite of your pizza.

“I think it would match so well with the gold accents and…” she rattles on about

Spending the entirety of dinner talking about placement and furniture, you find yourselves tired from a long day of planning, organizing and moving things around.

Taking it upon yourself to pack up the left-overs from dinner in the kitchen, you can’t help but wonder where your girlfriend has gone off too.

“Nayeonieeeeeeeee!” called out when you hear her cackle from the master bedroom.

“I’m in here, baby!” echoed off the walls to the empty living room.

“You better not moving that bed again!” Sliding the pizza box into the fridge, laughing to yourself about the joke you just made.

“I’m NOT! Ugh!” you walk into your new shared bedroom to see Nayeon on FaceTime with Momo, talking about the moving process and how smoothly it went with the company she recommended.

Catching her attention was fairly easy as you were still very shirtless and the sweatpants you wore to cover up were a little big on you, falling off almost so the waistband of your underwear was sticking out for her to see.

“Momo when you come over tomorrow, we will give you a tour! Besides we still have some…things to…” she’s staring right at you, eye shifting from your exposed waistband up to your bare torso.

An idea pops into your head, an idea that would bring her to her knees and back to where you were an hour or two ago.

Making eye contact with her while she zones out, you tug on the string that is keeping your sweatpants anchored on your hips, letting them drop to the floor before you step out of them. Her jaw drops at how suddenly exposed you are with only your panties and your bra covering you…for now.

Slipping your fingers under the hem of what was covering your chest, you slowly pull it off over your head, leaving you in just your underwear. Twirling the bra by it’s strap around your finger, you fling it at her, it lands on her legs.

Nayeon’s eyes bugged out of her head, like a cartoon character, as she sat up - readjusting her position out of what seemed to be a little bit of gay panic mixed with anticipation.

“….hey, uhm…let me call you back.” Nayeon quickly hangs up the phone as Momo’s protest began through the speaker.

“Wait! Nayeon we have to talk abou-” click.

You have her right where you want her.

She stands, hastily making her way over to you. Hands reaching out to make contact, she’s pulling you in close, laying her hands on your hips and tracing small circles that travel to your lower back and to the waistband she was just staring at.

“You have all my attention, honey.” kissing your cheeks, trailing feather-light kisses down your jaw line and onto the side of your neck before bringing her lips back to yours.

Within minutes of this sweet dangerous kiss beginning, you’d devolve into a melted version of your former self with only her name stuck in your throat and the flavor of her lips at the tip of your tongue as it familiarizes itself with hers again, noting every predicted movement and sway of her as she holds you in front of her.

Arms raising up and resting on her shoulders, your fingers weave with her hair, pulling her into your further and pressing your chest against her same purple shirt from earlier.

“Take this off.” parting from her for only a moment to give her the command to remove the article of clothing that was in your way before returning your mouth to hers.

Maintaining eye contact, she rips her shirt over her head, tossing it somewhere else and continuing on the entanglement you were creating with her, unsnapping her bra and letting it chase her shirt to else where.

Now shirtless with you, chests pressing up against each other, she takes charge. Leading you to the “crooked” bed and pushing you down onto the sheets, playfully.

“Finally,” she breathes, unbuttoning her shorts and letting them fall to the floor and kicking them out of the way.

“I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you this morning. And when you carried me over the threshold?” clenching her entire body at the memory, a familiar shutter cascades through her body.

“I never wanted you more than in that moment…except for maybe right now.”

Watching as she relaxes again, her hands on either side of you, and she’s making half lidded eye contact with you when she brings a hand down your stomach, ghosting it over your underwear and reminding your body of what it was feeling earlier.

Leaning down to kiss you again, she’s intensifying her touch on you. Rubbing your clit through the now damp fabric of your underwear and letting you moan and whine into her mouth. The touch is fueling every fire you’ve felt in the last 12 hours.

“Fuck…Nayeon” whined into her mouth as she pulls your panties to the side, drenching her finger in your slick, coasting it up and down your slit while you match her movements with your hips.

She spends a moment kissing and toying with your chest, flicking your nipples with her tongue, lightly grazing her teeth over them. She slithers back up to your face and kisses you again.

“Finally touching you after a long day of wanting to feel you like this…” bringing her hand up to lick your essence off her long digits.

“To taste you like this…” bringing her lips down to yours, kissing you deeply and letting your own taste linger on your tongue.

Usually being the one that maintains composure, you were finding it difficult to keep the pace steady, after all the “almost” moments earlier today, you were having thoughts of just flipping her over and doing all the work.

Intense bodily reactions that are out of your control fling you into desperation, body begging for more of her touch, and gripping her harder to make sure she knows what you want, though it was obvious, your body language gave you away.

The rocking of your hips, the repressed moans, the less than pure lust that burned you from the inside were shinning through every single motion you made.

Nayeon noticed.

Her teeth graze your ear before she descended down your body with small bites, intentional swipes of her tongue and soft sweet pecks in between.

It wasn’t long before your ass was hanging off the edge of the bed and she was on her knees between your legs.

Without even looking at her, you can feel the smirk she has as she tugs on the elastic that was holding what was in her way up, and removes it - almost ripping it in the process.

“Damn, baby. You look so fucking good like this.” running her thumb up and over your clit a few times, teasing your entrance with every few passes.

Brain glitching under her touch, the cravings were too strong and you were too addicted to contain yourself any longer. Thrusting your hips down on her next tease of your entrance, her thumb slips inside you causing a guttural moan to leave your throat.

“Someone is eager.” giggled at you before removing her thumb, licking your slick off of it.

Whining in protest, you are about to beg for her when you feel it. The warmth of her tongue, starting at the bottom of your entrance and snaking its way up your folds and over your clit before latching onto it.

“Nayeon, ple- ooooh fuck!” hissed out in pleasure, hands flying up to the back of her head, wrapping her hair up in your hands and holding it into a makeshift ponytail as her tongue made work of you.

A delicate dance that she was more than good at, teasing and flicking at your sensitive bud before finally starting the pattern that she knew was what was going to keep you right where she needed you.

Sucking and smacking while she whirled her tongue in tightknit circles around your clit, completely focused on the way your back was arching, body twitching underneath her, and the sounds you were making for her.

Moaning her name, the breathy “oh fucks”, and the unprovoked “please please please” always made a mess of her underwear. She loved to hear you in this way, loved to have you in such a vulnerably delicious position to which she could bring you every ounce of pleasure you could ever want.

The build up ensues, the tightly woven tension in your core was stacking like tetris on the want that had been taunting you all day. Deep, primal yearning for your partner was all consuming and it was apparent that the feeling was mutual.

That’s when you feel it, her long pointer finger teasing your entrance, waiting for you to do exactly what Nayeon knew you would. Thrusting your hips down onto her finger and grinding onto it, doing the work for her while she quickened the pace of her circular movements on your clit.

The vibration of her chuckling with her mouth still attached to you was excruciating. Giggling at your neediness only made the desperation worse, vibrating and stimulating the very sensitive bud causing the pot to boil over, burning the coil that threatened to snap at any moment.

“Baby…oh fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum” pulling her head closer to you and grinding harder down on her finger.

Nayeon smiles, curling her finger up one, two, three times and then rips herself away from you.

Completely dismantling everything she just built, ruining the orgasm and sending you into a spiral of desperation and anger.

“Fuck, WHY would you do THAT?!” panting out furiously as you sit up on your elbows so you can glare at the cheeky smile she’s got plastered on her face.

Rolling your eyes and slamming yourself back down on the mattress, you hear the sound of leather sliding across the wooden nightstand. Nayeon stands, stepping into the harness of the all too familiar strap-on that was very present on nights like this.

The actual strap was different than your usual one, noting that the rings were more angular, the color of the leather was slightly darker, and you couldn’t help but notice the new attachment that was fixed to the strap that would go between Nayeon’s legs.

Slipping it inside herself with ease, a whimper leaving her lips while she buckled herself in and prepared for what was to come.

Feeling yourself drip in anticipation, the pooling of slick underneath you was rapidly growing out of control as Nayeon tugged your hips closer to the edge of the bed.

You could feel the tip of the familiar toy pressing against your folds as she leaned down and softly bit your chest. Shivers of anticipation radiated through your bones as you patiently waited for her to make the initial thrust that would turn into you becoming undone underneath her.

Breathing picking up for both of you, the tension so thick between you that every touch from her felt like jolts of static electricity that had the power of lightening.

“Baby…” unable to wait anymore, you had thought about her this way all day, on top of you with that half lidded smirk.

“Please.” Cupping her face, bringing her closer to you while lifting your legs up and wrapping them around her hips.

Taking the hint, she eases her hips forward, sinking her strap into you painstakingly slow, inch by inch until she was completely bottomed out inside you.

Moaning into her mouth as you continue to passionately make out, she takes it slow with you. Sensually rocking her hips gently and letting her hands wander your body while your tongues explored each others mouths.

Hardly any words shared at all, the moment too intense, and all too intimate to even think of exchanging witty banter. Hushed moans and whines filling the minimal space between the you and her, mixed in with the pure pleasure and the eager pants from Nayeon.

Bliss drapes your body with each thrust Nayeon made, you gave a small gasp at each stroke she laid into you. Paired with her own sounds of pleasure, you were consumed by her.

“I’m gonna cum…fuck” whispered to her with intense eye contact that has her breath hitching. Her thrusts speed up, a steady crescendo building up higher and higher in both of you until finally hit the point of pure ecstasy.

Your vision blurs as your body trembles, moans escaping your throat in rapid succession. Drenched in ecstasy, you twitch and buck your hips, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm.

Nayeon glistens with a thin sheen of sweat as she maintains her rhythm. Despite your body clenching around the strap, making it challenging for her to continue, she perseveres undeterred, chasing her own pleasure while overstimulating you.

A stream of passionate words accompanies the matching sounds as you both murmur intensely to each other. Nayeon grasps your hands, pinning them above your head, her hips snapping faster and faster.

Watching her closely through your post orgasm haze, you observe her brows furrowing—a sign she's nearing her peak.

As her rhythm falters, you seize the moment. Using your legs, you swiftly roll her over, positioning yourself on top of her.

Grinding down on the strap, now building another orgasm as it rubs against all the right spots, you can feel her body tensing under you.

“Cum for me, baby. I know how much you wanting this all day.” Sultry tone sensually whispered to her as you begin to slam yourself down on her, letting the attachment do the work.

Her eyes roll back, body tensed, back arched as she releases- a mess created on the sheets. Her whimpers loud, hands grasping at you, trying to tug you closer to her and successfully doing so.

Her nails dig into your hips as she guides you up and down on her, mouths connecting, your hand crawling up to weave into her hair.

“Oh fuck…feels so fucking good” breathed against her lips, her hands snake under your thighs, stopping you from riding her.

Thrusting up into you, holding you up while you drape your body over hers, allowing yourself to untether and get lost in the moment.

“Give me one more, honey. I know you want to.” Followed by a few bites to your neck.

The want in her words were enough to send you over the edge once more. She wraps her arms around you, holding you into place while continuing to trust up into you, creating a plethora of sounds that would put any adult film to shame.

Slowly coming down, you bury your face in her neck and smile into her.

“Ugh that was so worth the wait.” huffed into her skin as she draws little pictures with her nails on your back, writing words like “I love you” and your name and her name with hearts.

“Are you writing poetry on my back?” quizzically asked with a hint of sleepiness as you sit up on her.

“I don’t need to write poetry on what already is poetry, my love.” sitting up to deeply kiss you and hug you, all while the strap is still inside you.

Standing up to go and grab another set of sheets, Nayeon takes a moment to clean the strap in the bathroom, dry it off, and put it back in the drawer.

Returning to the bed, you pull the sheets off, walking through your house to place them in the washer and flick it on before you return to the room.

Nayeon and you make the bed together, changing the pillow cases so they match the new sheets you just placed on them.

“Do you want to take a quick shower with me?” after finally placing the comforter on the bed.

Nayeon walks over to you, putting her arms around your waist and kissing you again.

“Absolutely” leading you to the bathroom so you can wash up together.

Turning to her after she turns the shower on, you smirk at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she scoffs, pulling out some towels from the linen closet for you both to use.

“I just love you…also, I think the bed IS crooked…at least it is now…” giggling at her.

Nayeon just glares at you, you can almost see her eye twitch with rage when she finally exclaims:

“SEE, I TOLD YOU IT WAS CROOKED!”

#twice x reader #twice #twice nayeon #twice im nayeon #nayeon smut #im nayeon #nayeon #nayeon fluff #twice nayeon x reader #nayeon x you #nayeon x fem!reader

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hawkinasock · 2 days

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haiii pls spill abt ur chimera yq ideas... i have my own (https://www.tumblr.com/waterfrontcomplex/758520749229277184/dunmeshi-chapter-37ep-17-spoilers-look?source=share)

i also drew my own idea of him (swallow + abundant deer)

Yes ofc!! I'm so happy that someone else has had this idea too, it has so much potential. I want to see all the chimera Yanqings.

Mine looks like this. I actually didn't have a design drawn out for him initially, so I had to whip something up quickly. That's why it took me so long to answer </3

Originally, he had a more swallow-based design.

I still really like it, but I changed the lore a lot, so I made the new one, the current au, which goes something like this:

(CW for blatant body horror, descriptions of digestion, as well as brief details regarding real world animal death)

Here's my idea. Like most aeons, Lan The Hunt has emanators that carry out their will. One of these emanator's is currently unnamed and without a solid design yet. It has an animalistic appearance in my head. Imagine Feixiao's inner beast, or the Mourning Aix from WuWa. That'll give you the best reference.

It travels the cosmos, tracking down and eliminating the Abundance. it does this with the use of extremely powerful olfactory cells. Even with galaxies separating them, the emanator can detect abominations through smell alone, and when it finds one, it will consume it to ensure it cannot possibly regenerate.

Suffice to say, it's very good at its job, and Yanqing, unfortunately, is not an exception to their heightened senses. Surprisingly to no one, Abundance Yanqing coexists with this au, and he is immediately recognized as an abomination when the emanator is in proximity of the Luofu. Yanqing is unaware of his status as an spawn of Yaoshi, so when the devourer of monsters (working title) visits the Luofu, he never would have expected it to turn its eyes onto him.

To say the Luofu is thrown into chaos when one of Lan's emanator's eats a Liuetenant of The Hunt is an understatement. The emanator insists no mistake has been made and it is justified through Lan's divine will. It actually shifts the blame onto Jing Yuan for assigning an abomination as his Lieutenant in the first place, citing incompetence on his part. Kind of a shitty thing to do after eating the man's son but okay...

Not long after, the emanator starts to... change. It begins experiencing sudden and visible signs of mara: bouts of aggression, delirium, and eventually flora and fungus sprouting from its flesh. It's incorrectly concluded that Yanqing's death was a result of early unset mara in the emanator, and Jing Yuan decides the emanator has to be killed via decapitation, such is their duty as followers of The Hunt.

You can probably guess where this is going.

So, you know how bones are capable of fusing together or into other objects during the healing process? Like that deer that was shot by an arrow and the ribcage actually fused itself with the arrow? That's essentially how chimera Yanqing is born.

As an abomination, Yanqing is capable of postmortem regeneration, and as an abomination that is particularly favored by Yaoshi (in my delusional mind) his regeneration capabilities far exceed that of the average denizen, and one this emanator's digestive system was not capable of overriding.

Much like how that deer bone fused with the arrow, Yanqing's body begins the process of fusing back together after partial consumption, and during that process, he inadvertently fuses with the emanator's body, which triggered those mara symptoms. Additionally, because there had also been remains of other denizens in the emanator's stomach, they were unintentionally included in the revitalization process. This, in the end, gave the chimera's body the claws of a Borisin, the wings of a Wingweaver, and the head of a human (his body structure is also the same as the Houyhnhnm, but that's obviously a coincidence on my part lol).

The flowers and mushrooms don't really serve any other purpose besides looking pretty and emphasizing his connection to the abundance - his power is so palpable that life is literally sprouting through his skin. I just think it's kinda neat.

Anyways, in terms of psychological aftereffects, Yanqing himself is still there. However, his sense of self is muddied and most of his memories suppressed. Because he's at the head, he's in control of his own movements and actions. Usually, he's completely docile, but in the face of people currently trying to kill him, he becomes confused and scared, and fights back in self-defense. He's also experiencing prolonged dysmorphia from his new form, which causes him greater confusion and even pain.

For Jing Yuan? I think everyone would agree he wouldn't want to kill Yanqing. He believes there's still a way to reverse Yanqing's affliction, even if the Ten Lords insist otherwise.

Currently I don't have an detailed outline of what happens next. My current ideas are similar to yours actually, where the disciples take an interest in Yanqing for whatever reason, be it desperation to stop the Luofu from killing him and seeing him as blessed by Yaoshi, what have you. It could honestly go a similar route as Dvalin's manipulation by the hands of the Abyss. If I were to give this au a happy ending, I could incorporate the Viscorpus' ability to shapeshift and have Yanqing hone that ability, allowing him to regain his human form.

That's all I have for what was meant to be a short, detailed summary </3 All these asks always end with me yapping, forgive me. I've had this au cooking in my head for so long now, and I'm glad I have an excuse to spurge about it now.

(p.s. pls make more of your chimera au, I would eat it up)

#the design might change. we'll see #ask #honkai star rail #hsr #yanqing #chimera yanqing au #abundance!yanqing theory #i dont really like how i drew the fungus tbh #i wouldve made it more detailed but that wouldve taken forever #long post #btw the suspicious amount of notes with no users isn't a bot #my friend's account is just scuffed to an abnormal degree </3

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mysteryshoptls · 2 days

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Leona Kingscholar Shared Lines

Tutorial: Hey, time to go. Follow me.

Level Up 1: Feels nice gettin' tributes.

Level Up 2: This ain't bad... But it's not nearly enough.

Level Up 3: Gaining more power never hurts.

Level Max: Hah, I feel as though everything is now in my grasp. If you're going to keep working hard for me like this, I guess I can throw you a bone.

Vignette Level Up: Never thought I'd be up to hangin' with a herbivore... But this is getting pretty interesting. As long as you don't cause me any issues, I'll keep lookin' after you.

Spell Level Up: You're probably the only one who actually would want to practice magic with me. Most people'll just tuck their tails and run away.

Friendship Level Up: I don’t like being constantly disturbed. So in that sense, this place is perfect and quiet.

Friendship Level Max: I don’t mind coming by this guest room once in a while. Make sure you have a place to nap and some food ready for me.

Uncapped: I can do it so long as I put my mind to it, ain't it obvious? I just don't want to.

Groovification: You want to see what I can really do? Heheh... A herbivore like you wouldn't nearly be ready to handle that.

Lesson Select 1: Hey you, sit in front of me. I'm gonna sleep behind you.

Lesson Select 2: It ain't that hard of a decision, is it? I'm tired of waitin' around.

Lesson Select 3: Time for a peaceful study time with everyone all buddy-buddy, huh. No thanks.

Lesson Start: Ugh, this sucks.

Lesson Finish: Yaaawn. That was a boring class, I already knew all that.

Battle Start: I can fight with more than just my fists and fangs.

Battle Won: Did you really think you could win against me?

GIFT CALENDAR 2023: “How will you be spending the day?” No plans worth mentioning. What, not what you were expecting? Well, too bad. The campus is completely covered in snow, so the best thing for me to do is just to get back to my dorm room and relax while solving some chess problems.

Birthday Story 1: My birthday isn’t anything special. It’s just the day I was born. …Well if you’re really saying you want to celebrate it, I won’t forcibly stop you. Presents are always welcome.

Birthday Story 2: What’d you want? …Ah, you came to celebrate my birthday. Then, I guess I’ll have you grill some meat for me, or something. You’ll have to make it exactly the way I want it. You said you wanted to celebrate me, right? I’ll let you keep trying until you get it down pat. I look forward to see how much I get to eat.

Birthday Story 3: So, you came to wish me a happy birthday, huh? Well, ain’t that admirable of you. So, what did you bring me, then? At the very least, you are presenting a gift to royalty. As such, I’m sure you’ve prepared a very fine gift. …Hey, don’t freeze up on me. Sheesh, jokes just fly over your head, huh. I’ll take it off your hands, so show me what you got behind your back, already.

Birthday Story 4: …Ugh. As I’m sure you can tell, I’m in the middle of a nap. If you need something from me, ask me later. If you just wanted to celebrate my birthday, a card woulda been plenty… But, fine. Here, hand it over. [Yuu startles] Whaddya mean, hand what over? …Obviously, I’m talking about my gift. I’m expecting it to be something good to make up for the rude awakening.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #leona kingscholar #twst leona #twst translation

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astr0n0va1 · 2 days

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𝐌𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 - 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐬 - 𝟒

Previous parts: Teaser , 1, 2, 3

Sorry about the long wait but heres pt.4, and I loved writing this part please share your thoughts. Thank you for your patience 💗.

2,148 words

Monday arrived quickly and as you all made your way into AMMO headquarters everyone seemed to be in a good mood.

“So how was it?” Rita asked.

“Eventful.” You replied while making your way to your desk.

“Damm no details, you don’t even want to elaborate?” Rita said.

“No or at least not right now, maybe during lunch.” You commented.

“Fine but you better keep your word.” She said before picking up some files.

As the day went by, you luckily hadn’t encountered Armando. You saw him walk by a few times and then get called upstairs for something. Everyone watched as he got up and left. Kelly looked towards you, raising her eyebrows, you simply shrugged your shoulders and went back to your station.

“Okay, guys, Y/N and I are going out for lunch. We will see you all shortly,” Rita said, grabbing her keys.

You grabbed your bag and headed towards the door.

“Rita, Y/n where y’all going?” Asked Mike.

“To run some errands,” Rita responded.

“Okay, whatever. Y/N, we start training today at 6, don't forget.” He reminded you before walking off.

Skip to lunch

"Wait, so you guys kissed on the same night he disappeared from the house?” Rita asked, trying to understand.

“Yes, that's exactly what happened and now I’m not sure what to do. I can either ask him what’s wrong which I feel will make me look obsessive, or I can just pretend it never happened.” You say before taking a sip of your lemonade.

“It’s weird but if you like him ask him if you don’t then treat this as a small one-time hookup.” She added while staring out into the street.

“Rita, are you ok you keep staring off?” You state while trying to get her attention.

“I don’t know, do you ever get the feeling you’re being watched, I feel like that right now and my intuition usually doesn’t lie?” Rita explained.

“We can go if you want, just give me a second while I get Kelly’s order. I’ll meet you at the car.” You said before getting up.

You walked towards the register and waited in line while they finished the order. Some girl walked past you and dropped her card holder.

You tried to get her attention but she didn’t turn around, you ended up losing her in a crowd so you looked through the cards trying to find some sort of identification.

Her name was Rosanne Cabral, you admired her picture for a second and then looked for any useful information. You then found her address on her driver's license, and decided that you would go drop it off at her mailbox.

You picked up Kelly’s order and made your way to the car.

“What took so long?” Rita asked.

“They were understaffed.” You replied lying.

You didn’t want to lie to Rita but she was on edge and you didn’t want her to worry more. It was an act of kindness nothing bad could come from it. ——————————————————————

You arrived at the gym a little bit earlier than Mike and started stretching before warming up. Once Mike got there you both got started.

“Okay today we are going to train a little easy for the test so let’s start with push-ups until failure, then we’ll move into the 1.5-mile run practice and we’ll finish up with some pull-ups,” Mike said with an enthusiastic clap.

“Mike, I thought you were preparing me for the test, not war.” You said dramatically.

“Your test is in like 3 weeks. By the end of next week, I’ll have you ready but you need to follow my plan and stick to the routine.” He replies.

“Plus everything you do I’ll be doing along with you.” He said trying to motivate you.

You started up well but by your 30th push, you gave up. Mike just kept going, then during the 1.5 mile run Mike stayed behind you pushing you to go faster which made you hit your time for your mile.

For the pull-ups, you only got to 15 as you were exhausted by then. Mike looked at you as you laid on the floor.

“Girl that was nothing, you being dramatic.” He said while taking a sip from his water.

“Mike, I'm more of a yoga girl, I'm not a gym rat.” You explain while taking a sip from your water.

“Y/n I’m just messing with you, but your mile timing is good, and we will work on the rest. That’s what I’m here for.” He noted trying to encourage you.

“Thank you Mike but I’m debating about taking that test, we have enough people I don’t need to be out there.” You explained.

“What if one day the whole team is in danger, you’re going to have to go out there eventually.” He remarked trying to talk some sense into you.

“You’re right but that’s a what-if thing, I don’t think you all will ever let that happen.” You said.

You both started walking out towards the parking lot. You noticed Armando’s motorcycle still parked at the other end of the parking lot.

“Christine is making dinner tonight. Do you want to come over for dinner?” Mike asked while placing his bag in his trunk.

“Mike you know I never turn down dinner but…” He cut you off before you could finish.

“Great, we will see you there shortly,” he said before getting in his car and driving off.

You decided to just go in your gym outfit since you didn’t plan to stay for long. And you still had to go drop off the wallet too.You made it there 10 minutes after Mike got there, and by then they had set the table and were waiting on you.

“Hi Christine I’m sorry for dropping in your plans at the last minute, but Mike insisted I come for dinner.” You said before hugging her.

“Y/n you’re such a sweetheart, of course I don’t mind you coming for dinner.” She replied while leading you to a seat.

“Did you want to wait until Armando gets here?” Christine asked Mike before setting him up a plate on the table.

“He’s coming late, we can start without him.” He replied.

You felt relieved to hear that, your goal right was to leave before Armando got there.

Dinner flowed well and you all conversed about day-to-day life, your family, and other things. As you all finished Christine started clearing all the plates from the table, and before you went over to help Mike asked you something.

“So Y/n… still no boyfriend?” Mike asked in a curious tone.

You wiped your mouth and responded, “Sometimes our job makes it hard to settle down.”

“Come on Y/n be real with me. You and I know some people in the AMMO squad have had their eye on you, and not only just there.” Mike said.

“The only thing I know you might be referring to is the Louis thing, and honestly that was embarrassing.” You replied denying most things he implied.

“As far as I can see you have some good options. You have Rafe who’d do anything for you, Louis who just happens to be the mayor’s son, and a little somebody I know.” He said with a smile.

“Rafe and I are more platonic than anything, Louis has his head too far up his ass because his dad is mayor, and I don’t know who else you might be referring to. Now if you’ll excuse i’ll go help clean up.” You said before getting up to help Christine clear the dishes.

You helped her clear the dishes and wipe down the table. After that, you started getting ready to leave, and as you said goodbye to Christine and made your way over to Mike he offered to walk you out.

“My bad if I was being too nosy, and overstepped some boundaries Y/n.” He said apologetically.

“Mike it’s ok you have been like a father figure to me ever since I started this job, so I understand where you are coming from.” You clarified.

“Father figure..me? I’m honored. But just remember you’re always welcome to come by.” He said.

You hugged him and made your way to your car. As you walked closer to your car you noticed that Armando had just arrived. He took his helmet off and got off the bike, still not noticing you there.

You gathered your courage and went up to him.

“Hey, Armando.” You said trying to get his attention.

“Y/n” He replied, still not looking at you.

“How have you been?” You asked, trying to ease up into what you wanted to ask.

“Busy.” He replied now, finally turning to face you.

“Umm yeah definitely, I was wondering why did you leave Saturday night?” You asked.

“Had something I needed to take care of.” He replied dryly.

“Oh ok I was just wondering, but I do have something else to ask. I don't know how to say this but I’ll just try to spit it out. “ You explained while trying to put your words together.

He simply stared at you implying for you to talk.

“I just wanted to know where we stood after last weekend.” You asked trying to keep yourself together, and not let your nerves show.

“It was a kiss and we will both get over it. You should just go on and forget that anything ever happened, " he replied, seeming annoyed by the question.

Your throat felt dry and your eyes started to string with the feeling of tears you were holding back. You managed to keep yourself together and respond,” Oh ok Yeah maybe it is for the best.”

After that, you both stared at each other for a few seconds. But then just you made your way into your car, and he walked up the driveway and into Mike’s house.

Once he was out of sight, you started to lightly cry and started driving away. After a few minutes of driving, you pulled over on the side of the road and wiped your face. You sat and thought about it all, but what bothered you the most was how it just changed all of a sudden

How one day you were both trying to open up to each other and he’s just saying it’s best if you both forget everything.You took a deep breath out and tried to calm yourself down, but then you remembered that you still had the cardholder.You decided to drop it off before going home. The drive would help you clear your head and would also keep you from going home and sulking in your bed.

The drive took around 20 minutes from the side of town you were on. By the time you arrived, it was a little over 9:30 and the street was a empty.

It was a nice apartment building, but because the mailbox access was private you had to go to the apartment itself.

You walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. After a few seconds, a girl opened the door.

“Hi, can I help you?” She asked.

“Hi you dropped this earlier today and I saw it on the floor but when I tried to get your attention I don‘t think you heard me. I did have to look at your license to get here so I hope you don’t mind.” You explained.

“Oh my god thank you so much you’re a lifesaver, but it’s all good at least you got it back to me.” She said, expressing her thanks to you.

“No problem.” You responded before almost turning around to leave.

“How can I repay you?” She asked before you could leave the front of her door.

“No, there's no need.” You said trying to kindly deny her generous offer.

“No, I insist I’m new here in Miami and it’s been a rough start. Please let me at least invite you to brunch or something.” She said insistently .

“I’ll accept your invitation but only because I know how hard it can be to make new friends here in Miami. But this is not you repaying me because it is not necessary.” You said finally accepting.

You then gave her your number, and before you left you realized you hadn’t gotten her name.

“I’m sorry but I never got your name?” You asked before leaving.

“It’s Rosanne but I go by Rose.” She replied.

“Ok then just let me know for brunch and I’ll get back to you.” You said.

“Ok, I will thank you so much.” She said before going back in.

You walked back to your car and got in. It was only monday but the week had just started off strong.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @cardi-bre91, @believeinthefireflies95, @blackgirlmagicforever , @bootlegroach , @mentalidrainedfangirl , @lotusunique, @thesizzler , @marissa53115 , @yeahnohoneybye @housewifewithnohusband22

______________________________________________________________

#armando aretas #jacob scipio #armando aretas x reader #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life #armando x reader

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sencrose · 2 days

Text

— WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?

pairing: naoya zenin x f!reader, implied feelings involving naomaki

tags: dead dove do not eat. dubcon, angst?, reader is described as having a similar appearance to maki (mostly in hairstyle), incestuous undertones, physical abuse (against maki, sorry queen) established relationship, throatfucking, no prep, rough sex, pain during sex, (condescending) praise, hair pulling, internalized misogyny

wc: 3.2k

summary: You do not know what your husband sees in you. For better or worse, you learn.

a/n: back on my writing horrible things about naoya bullshit!! ngl this was weird to write but i also had a lot of fun with it. big thank you to @blueparadis for beta reading this for me <3 please read the tags and proceed with caution. ao3 link here

tagging: @pixelcafe-network @jellyfishsart

You do not know what your husband sees in you.

It is not that you are without merit, but you are, simply put, plain. A weed in a field of flowers in full bloom. The diet that follows after a bad bout of the stomach flu. A satellite in the night sky that might be mistaken for a star — until it glides past far too quickly to be one, much to an onlooker’s disappointment.

You know what power the Zen’in clan holds. The kind of power where even the most upstanding of sons will poison their fathers just for a taste. The paranoia that comes with it, the rumors of potential traitors whispered between paper doors is enough to keep anyone on edge.

With all of that in mind, you know in your heart of hearts you are not the type of person the next head of the clan would pursue.

Yet you were told he picked you out by hand, out of the dozens of matchmaking papers given to him. Applicants that began and ended on ink, their names, birthdays, and occupations, were discarded without a care of who they were, or who they could have been.

What an honor, you were told.

So you packed up your things with a judgemental eye, preparing yourself for the worst when you arrive. Would they let you keep a stuffed animal that was a birthday gift from a friend, or is that too childish? What about this shirt — is it conservative enough or will it bring unwanted attention?

You left most things behind.

—

Every now and then, you recall a conversation you had with your mother shared over a plate of cut fruit, shortly before you received the news from the Zen’in clan. It comes to you whenever you see the young girls rushing through the corridors, hands holding a stack of sheets that tower over them.

“Do you have any dreams?” she asked, carving the skin of an apple, the crimson peel spiraling under her skillful thumb, “Ambitions?”

She tended to ask this now and then. It’s natural, you assumed; a mother’s desire to know anything and everything there is to know about their child.

It’s hard to remember or keep track of all the answers you’ve given her. All you know is that they’ve become less ambitious over the years. From huffing your chest out and saying you’ll be an astronaut who lives out in the stars with the profound confidence only a child could have, to something less spectacular, more mundane.

You didn’t have much luck becoming a sorcerer, which shrunk your options. Maybe you’d go to school. Maybe get a degree, get some kind of corporate job, waste your life away in a gray office cubicle.

But none of those are dreams. Obligations, perhaps.

“No, not really,” you replied, detached from the conversation. It was the truth.

She patted you on the back, comfortingly. “Ah, that’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.”

You still don’t know what she meant by that, but you also made no effort to ask for clarification. The words simmered low and steady until it burned and branded itself in your head.

As if to pull you out of your thoughts, your mother handed you a slice, an offering. Despite her words, you wondered if it was consolation.

—

Even after some time has passed since your arrival, you do not know what your husband sees in you. You’re not sure he sees you at all.

His touch is few and far between.

To your surprise, on the night of your wedding you did not consummate your marriage. It happened two weeks after, and it was not what you expected from someone who had supposedly picked you out on his own accord.

It was anything but gentle. You learned quickly that Naoya Zen’in is not a patient man.

Rough hands were grabbing anywhere, everywhere. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to devour you.

Nothing placated him. When you gazed up at him teary-eyed with soft pleas to go slower, you only made things worse. Hands grabbed onto your form to flip you over, push your face into the sheets so he didn’t have to hear your protests. Fingers pressed deep into the dip of your waist, so hard you worried about bruises forming (they did).

Once he got what he wanted out of you, he tossed you to the side. As if you were some random girl he just happened to pick up for the night, someone he hoped would be gone come morning.

As if you weren’t his wife.

It was the first time in a long time that you realized, maybe, you had wants. Desires. To do something instead of having something done onto you.

But your mother’s words haunt you.

You don’t want to be greedy.

—

For the first time since arriving at the estate, you have a hint of what your husband sees in you.

You don’t think you’re supposed to see it. You don’t think you’re supposed to be here at all.

A girl lies on the floor of the open courtyard, her head underneath Naoya’s heel.

It’s like looking into a mirror, though a bit distorted. The image is similar, but the puzzle pieces filling in the gaps are all different.

Her hair is much like yours, though the strands that frame her face hang like blades, sharpened, ready to cut anyone who gets too close.

You don’t have that type of intensity around you. The pieces of hair that frame your face soften your features. Wispy, uncertain shapes that blow away with the slightest puff of wind.

The similarities start and end there.

Though she’s younger than you, she wears a hardened expression, one you always thought would come to you with age. You realize now that you must’ve had it easy when you see how she wears it like it’s all she’s ever known.

Although you go unnoticed by your husband, the girl acknowledges your presence. Her gaze meets yours, fury ablaze in her eyes, along with something else you don’t recognize. Your legs react before you even realize, taking a step back.

Even with her body pressed into the ground in submission, you can tell she is anything but. It’s written candidly on her face, teeth bared to the world, begging for flesh to dig into.

Your husband must be a blind fool. Even you can see from a distance that she’s a wild animal in human form, just waiting for a chance to break the chains of her enclosure. You feel it in her stare, how she strips you down to a state even Naoya hasn’t witnessed. You don’t like it. How her eyes hone in on you like a lion staring down its prey.

Then again, would you even be considered prey? Even a rabbit has a fighting chance at running away. You do not know how to run. Not towards a goal, and certainly not away from danger.

But you can still walk. Walk while you can and you can forget you’ve ever seen this. Stuff it back in the recesses of your mind, back where you wrote off wants and desires and greed all those years ago.

You don’t walk away fast enough.

When you hear her name slip from your husband’s lips, your stomach freefalls.

You haven’t been at the estate for long, but you know of her. Everyone does. You just never had the chance to put a name to a face. Maki Zen’in, one half of the clan disappointment, alongside her twin sister. It goes without saying that you also know of the ties that connect them.

You know your husband is a cruel man. He has to be; it’s practically a requirement for someone of his power and status. But it’s hard to watch when it’s laid out so plainly in front of you. Even so, you stay.

You watch with a tightness in your chest as he pulls her up by the base of her ponytail before throwing her back onto the ground, gravel and dust dispersed in the air from the impact.

Anger lights a fire in his eyes. No matter what he does, he doesn’t seem to get the reaction he wants, or much of a reaction at all. She takes it in stride, only emitting hushed grunts when he kicks her. While you flinch at the volume of his voice rising, she boldly sneers at his frustration.

You meet her eyes again.

She laughs.

It isn’t to piss off Naoya. No, it’s directed at you. The bystander who’ll go on with her day like nothing ever happened, even after witnessing the horrific abuse doled out at the hands of her husband.

Even though she doesn’t hold an ounce of cursed energy in her veins, you know what she thinks of you. You hear it in the dry chuckle she lets out before Naoya kicks her again.

You��re cursed.

How pitiful.

—

You’re sure he’s ranting about something, maybe something Naobito did, but you can’t bring yourself to listen to him. All you can think about is the girl in the courtyard, with an ire in her eyes you’ve never seen before. When was the last time you looked like that? Felt something so intense it radiated off of your very being, so bright and radiant it couldn’t be ignored? Have you ever had that kind of fighting spirit in you?

A stagnant silence brings you back. You vacantly stare back at your husband. It was your turn to speak for once. You perk up at the opportunity, though you’re unsure how to seize it.

“Sorry. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? You don’t need to say anything. C’mere.”

He pulls you in closer, his hand petting your head. It’s the only time he shows any semblance of gentleness, a cruel way of lulling you into a false sense of security. You know what comes next. His hand presses against your head, lower, lower, until you’re nestled against his crotch. Naoya looks at you, expectantly.

Your fingers wrap around the cotton ties that hold his hakama pants, pulling with a tug. From there, the fabric falls easily, more so once you reach around his waist to undo the tension from the straps.

You steel yourself to do what you’ve always done, though something sits in the back of your mind.

You get him to groan with a long stroke of your tongue on the underside of his cock. Build yourself up to taking his entire length into his mouth, inch by dreadful inch, but it’s hard. By the time you swallow him whole, you can feel his tip pressing against the back of your throat. You do your best to service him at a pace he’d be satisfied with, one you know is out of your skillset, dribbling spit and coughing softly whenever you go too deep.

But Naoya isn’t satisfied. He’s impatient, his fingers weaving through your hair, pulling tight before he quickens your pace to his own liking. It’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. The burning in your eyes, the gross wet sounds that leave your mouth as he bobs your head up and down like a toy.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. Take me in so well, don’t you?” His grip around your hair tightens.

He continues recklessly fucking your throat, ignoring all of the choked cough and garbled yelps you let out whenever he hits the back of your throat. All you can do is take it, ball your fists and fold your thumbs in, and hope that trick you learned about reducing your gag reflex isn’t just some urban legend.

Naoya removes yourself from him as roughly as he places you onto him. The rush of air is both a welcome one and sudden change, and you gasp and cough at the sensation.

“Wife,” He brandishes the title like a weapon, the blade of a dagger pressed against your neck.

“Tie your hair up for me, won’t you?” he poses it as a question, but you know you have no choice in the matter.

Time freezes.

Your eyes shift and you find yourself fiddling with your fingers, hoping he will change his mind if you look up at him with a disarming plea in your eyes, but his gaze does not falter. His eyes only get darker, a dangerous amber that glows like a warning sign in the lowlight of your shared chamber, as he awaits you to fulfill his request.

Maybe your husband doesn’t see you, but you have always seen him for who he is, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It shines more than ever, when he tilts his head and the corners of his lips upturn. A snake carefully wrapping itself around a rat, just one good squeeze away from keeping you in his clutches forever. Once again, you’re trapped and frozen with nowhere to go. Unfortunately, you play your part well without trying.

You shouldn’t be surprised. It probably runs in their blood.

Slowly, you tie your hair up, strands spilling between your fingertips as you pick them up again, gathering and pulling through the hair only halfway through the elastic, an unstable, floppy bun.

You don’t want to be greedy.

A ghost of unspoken words from your mother whispers against your ear, and maybe if you caught on a bit sooner, things would be different. What was she trying to tell you? What did she hold behind her tongue so cautiously?

Because that’s not how I raised you?

Because that’s not a woman’s place?

Because that’s not what makes a good wife?

But none of it sounds quite right.

And though the thoughts swirl and cloud your head, something else rings bright and clear through the murkiness.

You want. You want to be wrong. You want it with an intensity you’ve never felt before in your life, a desire clawing its way out of your chest, desperate to see the light of day.

It’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.

Naoya gently tugs on the loop of hair with his fingers, almost intimately, and it makes your stomach curl. He pulls apart the strands in half to tighten it, until a ponytail reminiscent of the one you saw earlier today sits on top of your head.

It is only in this moment the clouds in your mind disperse, the addendum your mother wanted to add clear as day.

Because all you will be left with is disappointment.

Even though you’re filled with unease, you follow his lead because it’s all you’ve ever known. He pulls on the waistband of your skirt before pushing his hand against your back, getting you in position to arch for him.

His fingers drag against your slit, before sliding two of them inside your hole, ignoring any initial resistance. Another thing you learned about your husband is that he’s a determined man; to your dismay, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t fit, he’ll make it fit. Even the stretch of his digits is uncomfortable, scissoring them inside you just to hear you whine under his touch. You wince when he withdraws them, tighten up when you feel something hot and hard pressed against you.

There’s no getting used to his size. Even if he took the time to prepare you properly, you’re sure it would still hurt – if not at the initial penetration, then at the frenzied thrusts that come shortly after. His plump cockhead nudges teasingly against your hole, poking and proding before pulling away. He likes to keep you on your toes, hear you whimper when he surprises you a rough thrust.

Something about him seems more impatient than usual.

He pushes himself into you, and you bite down on your lip as he splits your walls apart in one swift movement. Over the course of your marriage, you’ve learned to wait out the pain, keep your breathing steady until he starts to move. But his pace never stays slow for long. It’s only a short moment before his hips slam into yours faster and you have to weave through the sheets and grip for stability.

“Naoya, ‘s too much,” you whine, voice high pitched and on the edge of sounding needy.

Without warning his hands wrap around your ponytail and he pulls tight. The sharp pain makes you wince, arch your back until you’re pressed flush against his chest.

“Talking back, are we?” he quips back.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, hushed and quiet.

You don’t think he accepts your apology, not when he tugs a bit harder and gives you a thrust so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs. Whether he accepts it or not, he’s still enjoying himself. You hear it in the groans he lets out whenever he hits you deep inside and you moan at the impact, feel it in the way his other hand kneads your breast before giving your nipple a tug.

“You like this, don’t you?”

You wonder if his words are actually directed towards you, but you don’t think too hard about your response, falling back on your default mode of placating him.

“Mhm,” you hum softly.

“Then you won’t mind if I go harder, right?” he asks, but he doesn’t give you a chance to respond. There’s no smooth transition, he simply goes straight into fucking you harder.

His pace is dizzying, the slap of skin-to-skin echoing throughout the room as he fucks you.

He only gets louder and more desperate as his hips slam into yours. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this before. It makes your mind race, makes you wonder if he’s holding back his tongue to call out another name whenever he hums a bit too long in pleasure. Each sound he makes causes your heart to skip in terror and anticipation, but you never hear it. Still, it trembles.

“Be a bit louder for me, ok?” he whispers in the shell of your ear. His hand traces down from your chest to your waist, lower until it reaches your aching clit. “I’ll even treat you tonight.”

The unexpected contact pushes you further into him, sends a shiver of tension up your spine. You don’t want to admit the pleasure boiling up in you, not like this, but your body doesn’t give you much of a choice. Your lips are the first line of defense to fall, high pitched moans you don’t recognize spilling so easily, naturally, as if it’s water leaking from a faucet.

Maybe he thinks you’re enjoying yourself just a bit too much, because the grip on your hair tightens once again. But it doesn’t stop the rush of warmth building up in your stomach, from your muscles tightening to prepare for your impending climax.

“Nao, I’m close, I’m close-”

Shame washes over you along with your orgasm, walls fluttering against his cock, as he fucks you through it. Naoya’s own climax follows shortly after yours, his hips thrusting harder until he stills with a shaky groan.

Only once he removes himself from you, you collapse on to the bed, body spent. You cautiously reach for the hair tie, looking over at Naoya as you pull it out with a soft tug. He doesn’t stop you.

You know what your husband sees in you.

You wish you didn’t see it too.

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